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  Sucy HP: 3 Glory: 16 Skill: Mushrooms After the warlord had laid out their strategic options, Sucy grabbed a mug of the mushy brew that Magda was offering and set down next to Neebs. "I hear you've been looking for me, sorry, I was busy digging through the labs to see if there's anything of value left, but no dice. So, where do you think we should head next?" Sucy took a big gulp from the liquid that could very charitably be called ale as Neebs laid out her reasoning for going to Föstis. "Yeah, I agree, the Old Guy tech sounds like it could be a complete game changer, so we definitely should Head back to Föstis. Just looking at how durable the Olivite here is promises a lot for the contents of the vault there. Though we should be very careful, I saw how easily it's defences severed Biggo's and Tharbad's legs first hand, and we can't be sure that the pin/key we found will be sufficient to disable them all." At this she looked down at her mug and let the conversation shift to less depressing topics. sheep-dodger fucked around with this message at 21:00 on Nov 20, 2017 |
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Nov 20, 2017 16:04
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   Pythag HP: (3) of (3) Skill: Math Equipment: Armor (+5), Iron Shield Glory: 1 Vote: Head to Noostra. (don't pull the nail).
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Nov 20, 2017 16:33
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On her way to somewhere else, Snödis is struck by an idle thought triggered by some random hordemate whistling. The Sonicore! She has almost forgotten it in all the excitement. She still had no idea what it did, or what it could be used for. Such a valuable asset she could not afford to have remain mysterious, and so she went in search for anyone who might be knowledgeable enough about the treasures of the earth, hoping they might shed some light on it.  "Gado, gado, gado.... Gado was it? Yes, At ease soldier. I hear you are the man in the mines, so to speak. How many eyes are you hiding behind those goggles, anyway? Ah, but I digress. Here, what do you make of this?"  "I found it in the Fostis mine. Sonicore if i'm not mistaken. Reacts to whistling, but I know little else. There has got to be more tö it. I want a full report However.. if you could figure out how to weaponize it? Yes, that would be even better. Tell you what, why don't you go find the local eggheads. Humbug and Pythag, I believe. See what you can cook up together. I am counting on you, soldier. Don't let me down, and I'm sure the Neötype Squadron can return the favour."
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Nov 20, 2017 20:03
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     Gado!!! Skill: Digging (+20), Mining (+10) HP: 3/3 Glory: 1 "Yeaaaaaah" Gado pushes the Sonior back into Snödis' grip "You're probably gonna want to work on that approach if you expect people to do you favors in the future." Having dismissed the poet he turns his attention back to a divot in the ground he's been scratching away at to pass the time before the horde leaves. Lifting his head for a moment he offers a small shrug "maybe you try again next time we make camp. Hopefully by then you'll have rustled up some manners, or at the very least some glory in place of vague promises if you're not going to work on your people skills." Totally willing to help out with identification during downtime, but just rolling up and ordering Gado around is a bad approach haha, or at least it is for someone who doesn't have the power to kill us all in their pinky finger. 
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Nov 20, 2017 20:33
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   Name: Hat Skills: HP: 3/3 Equipment: Spear (+1), Leather Armour (+1), Sikatris Scarf Glory: 18 Her vote cast, Hat stepped away from the centre of the Horde's gathering and tried to seek out Pythag, to apologize for the lack of Mutamesh progress and to discuss ways to improve it. She was wandering through the crowd with the sample in her hand when Snödis suddenly approached her. What would the Horde's most outspoken Monsterist say if she knew Hat had just been working on a way to avoid contracting the ailment/"blessing"? She quickly stuffed the sample under her armour with her left hand, while trying to return the salute with her right. Swedish Thaumocracy posted:
"Yes, our first promotion! Firstly, congratulations. I'm sure you'll do us all proud. And you'd like a hat? Wonderful, now, if I may, please..." Hat conjured up a tape measure and wrapped it around Snödis's head. "23, that's great. Leave it with me, I'll get right on it!" Hat shook her new customer's hand and walked confidently away to an empty cell... ...where she almost collapsed in panic. Her skillcore! She'd expended a lot of hat-making energy helping Pythag, and the knowledge she needed was only coming to her in fits and starts, a sure sign of overwork. It still needed some time to "cool down", as some Töans put it. How could she produce a hat without her skillcore? Think, Hat, think... Fifteen minutes later, Hat took a deep breath and approached Magda, a small sheet of paper in her hand. "Oh hello, hoarder," Magda said, her tone dripping in sarcasm. "Have we met? Yes, we had a few of your kind in the Asskickers, never spending their precious Glory. And where are they now, eh? All that Glory bleeding out their corpses on some lovely Fröan hill. No good to anyone. Now, what'd you want?" Hat put the piece of paper on the counter. "One official Töan Uniform Requisition Form. For one hat, Peaked Cap with Visor, red crown, black brim, for distribution to those of Captain rank. Not sure why Snödis didn't come here first, as Quartermaster I'm sure you've got a few stored away." Magda snorted. "I was rescued from enemy captivity. Why would I have any regular Army clobber here?" "C'mon, you must have something," Hat pleaded. "I'm sure they didn't just send Grimper out here with only 100 pointy sticks and a mission to fulfil. He'd have some more regular army gear stashed away, which is now in your stash. Yes?" Magda looked closely at the form, sighed, and disappeared into her caravan. A few seconds later, something came flying out of the open door. Hat caught it: a hat! Peaked cap, black brim, but black crown. She looked at the inside label: 23. "This'll do! Thank you Magda!" she cried, and ran back to her  Ta-da! It's probably not fair to the others if I roll for hat-making while everyone else is only voting, so I made the best hat image I could! Cloud Potato fucked around with this message at 00:55 on Nov 21, 2017 |
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Nov 20, 2017 21:38
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    Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Precision HP: 3 Glory: 21 Ritual Glory: 1 Noggins stood outside the prison, hefting a small roundish stone in her hand, tossing it straight up and down a few times experimentally before throwing it off to the side, watching it come to a halt some ways away from her. She watched it, judging the distance. Fifteen paces, two foot lengths and... three? No, four finger widths. With careful, measured strides, she walked over to the stone and picked it up. drat. Three finger widths after all. She was definitely improving as she got more used to her new skillcore, but it was hard to tell whether that was because she was getting better at actually judging distances, or if she was just getting more accurate with her throws. Not for the first time, Noggins reflected that not having depth perception really sucked. No, if she wanted to compensate for that deficiency she was going to need a little help, and... wait, was that... "Hey! Gabber! Mind lending me a hand?" Noggins yelled, waving at the distant figure. "Just a little game of catch, I need the practice!"
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Nov 20, 2017 23:49
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"  Name: Neebs Skill(s): Sales (+10) (on cooldown), Drinking (+10) HP: 3/3 Glory: 3 sheep-dodger posted:After the warlord had laid out their strategic options, Sucy grabbed a mug of the mushy brew that Magda was offering and set down next to Neebs. "Hey Shooshy...yeah, hey, yeah...have a sheat," Neebs slurred. Neebs wasn't drunk, but it was obvious she'd had a few. "Yeah; don't you worry about thoshe guys. They're gonna be fine. Did you shee the way they ended up running here from Foshtis? Anyone that can do that without any legsh is going to be justh fine." Neebs smiled an idiotically warm smile at Sucy. "No...here'sh whut I'm thinking, " Neebs said with some emphasis on the whut. "Sho...I'm no brewer, but I've been noticing a lot of different flavors recently, and I think you and I, I think we should try to brew our own beer. You sheem to know a lot about mushrooms; and I'm thinking with just the right mushrooms we can make a beer that tastes nothing like any others...but better of course! I'll have to shave up some glory to buy some Fostis Ale to get a good keg, and we'll have to empty the keg together, of course; but then we should be able to make something worth drinking that help us wash down thesh meals. No...no, I don't need an answer now. Just...think about it. It'sh a, longer term plan, if you will. If you do decide to help...and if you happen to shee any good batchesh of mushrooms while we're travelling that will add a...shpicy tang...try to grab them for me or show me where they are so I can grab them. You won't be disappointed."
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Nov 21, 2017 00:48
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   Bully Skills: Oratory, Climbing HP:3 Glory: 17 Bully declares that 'Noostra should be the next target! If we march quickly and strike decisively, then we can have taken the place before Sikatris will catch up to us, and ideally unlike the previous inhabitants, we will know that an attack is coming!'
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Nov 21, 2017 01:04
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  Name: Dack Skills: Athletics, Ą̀͠c̵̢͡͠͏r̴̸̛͝͡o͘͢͜͡b͜à̵̡̕t̷̢̀͜i̸̸͞c͘͟s̀͜͟ HP: 3 Glory: 9>10 Doom Clock: Four rounds remain Swedish Thaumocracy posted:
Finally, Dack is being noticed by literally anyone! You know, for reasons besides his impending Doom. The Neötype Squadron sounded like the perfect place to prove how useful Dack could be, and Snödis, while very abrasive to others, was clearly smarter and more ambitious than Dack. Also, it sounded like everyone in the squad got a free hat, which was a nice bonus, considering how long it took for Dack to get any actual equipment. As for what the Unexpectables should do next, Dack was inclined to head to Fostis. The vault seemed like a big deal, and Captain Snödis seemed to agree. Now all Dack had to do was find some way to communicate his vote that didn't involve making vague gestures in front of the Warlord. That hasn't really worked out for Dack yet.
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Nov 21, 2017 02:04
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 Name: Gloff Skills:Lifting, Swimming, Smithing HP: 2 Glory: 8 The Horde was battered and bruised, in need of supplies and rest still. Fostis was a (mostly) secured place to accomplish that. Mostly though, that vault could hold anything.
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Nov 21, 2017 03:09
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 Skill: Sleuthing , Science (used) HP: 3/3 Glory: 3 ----> 4 The sleuth wandered up and down the hallways in mock patrol. The care Zapanda and her healers had given him had put Humbug's last few aches to rest, but her answers had given him much to think about. The hostility she'd received him with was unsurprising, and in a sense it was even deserved. It was mostly to his credit that Nägel had been hit by the Unexpectables as he'd been the one to put the Warlord on notice about the place. If this had 'put monsterism research back 50 years', then he had been the root cause of it. Yet this was Frömen research, done on Frömen terms, and while it could be argued that it might have been very effective - and even somewhat humane - Humbug knew that story wasn't quite adding up. The Sleuth had two tales from this very horde that Töans had been brought into the facility without consent. Admittedly, one was a subversive rapper who glorified Monsterism and the other could supposedly 'breathe fire', so either could fit the (far too loose) distinction of being 'a possible danger to society'... if it weren't for the fact it was the wrong society. Frö caring for the well-being of Tö? The fact that both of these individuals been within the borders of Tö at the time of their kidnapping was telling as to the true nature of the project. Indeed, if Frö cared so much about eradicating monsterism, why had they not revealed the existence of the cure for low-level Monsterism that Zapanda said she'd found? Why had they instead used it to lure all of these desperate people to be experimental fodder for Nägel? However pure Zapanda's pretensions were, something, politics had definitely gotten in the way somewhere. Nägel might have been built to study Monsterism, its dark reputation mere myth and rumour-mongering, but it hid a darkness regardless. Those notes had detailed literally hundreds of prisoners being moved to Inhabitation, with a staggering zero refusals, going back - and this was significant - to the days before the current war. Whether the prisoners had volunteered in truth or not, and the degree to which they'd been 'obliged' or guided into the role, perhaps as a way to pay off their 'debt' to the society that had spent all the time and effort on curing them... It might have been a choice of serving, or of rotting away in a jail cell, being experimented on until Wendigoism's cure. Better than turning into a wendigo. Better than dying or becoming useless from some monsterist malformation. But not good. He and Zapanda would not see eye to eye this, the Sleuth suspected, so it would be difficult to confront her on the issue, and really, it depended on what kind of angle she was playing. The way he looked at it, the ex-administrator was either a patriotic realist, a liar, or so well accustomed to coming up with excuses for the questionable uses of the research she'd been performing that the distinction became moot. The greater good, and all that. Funny how it seldom seemed so great or good to those upon whom it was used poorly. For one, inhabitation sounded a lot like the Nailing performed on Fostis citizenry, just more directed towards one task and less expensive (heck, was it some Nail Ritual variation, perhaps?). The Inhabitation program was, in its own way, monstrous, and compared both favorably and unfavorably against the conscription that had seen him and many others come under Grimper's command. At least he could still get something out of this war - be it scars or glory. Thinking of getting things, Humbug felt like a few more pieces had fallen into place for his Big Question. Zapanda's reaction to Whodunnit was curious - from her 'official' perspective it seemed the queen's death was an insulting sideshow that Frö had no part in - at least compared to 'after what you did'. Humbug had been stumped by that comment - he did not think she referred to the current attack on Nägel, but could not remember anything big going down on the border before the Queen's assassination. Yet, he lived in the Capitol, close to the center of power in Tö, and if something was not deigned to be of importance to the general populace it wasn't uncommon for the story to slip from the official newsheets entirely. Especially if it was something that would embarass or disrupt more powerful Töans. Censoring was the priviliege of the influential. Of course, there were any number of historical events Zapanda could be referring to - Tö and Frö had storied histories, and a storied rivalry - but she seemed like a modern woman, and 'after what you did' sounded comparatively new. Was this the hot vintage sock odour of another mystery? Maybe he should ask Gelia, the Frömen historian who obsessed over Tö's long and glorious history. If anyone knew anything about big, recent events that hadn't been subject to Tö censoring, it would likely be a Frömen. But he would have to see her later. --------------------------------------- Humbug found himself near the monsterism pens, where Portha was working on rounding up the sickly and badly monsterised. The Rummager was the only person, bar the crazed Bamboo (who he still hadn't figured out a good way to approach), that might know a speck of truth about what might have happened in the Queen's palace that fateful banquet. "Oh! Hello Portha! Thank you for the fine soup - very hearthy! Reminded me of my father's cooking, but less sawdust seasoning. Hum. Actually, before I forget... do you mind me asking you a couple of questions? In private would be good," he said, looking around a little self-consciously, as he lead her away from the patient-prisoners and other members of the Horde. "Look, I don't expect much, and I don't want to rip up any bad memories, but I've heard you were just about to be employed at the Royal Palace at the time of the Queen's death - bless her memory. If you don't mind, would you tell me a little about what you saw when you went to the Palace that day? Did you see anyone important-looking? Anyone that you knew that were acting... oddly, considering the situation? Any odd turns of phrases, or overheard conversations? Or were you just shut out at the gates? You don't have to humour me if you don't want to, I just have something of a... professional curiosity in the case." ------------------------ Voting Fostis.
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Nov 21, 2017 03:51
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  Name: Gryph HP: 3 Glory: 4 Skill: Bandaging/Medicine Gryph will vote for Noostra
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Nov 21, 2017 04:27
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Dog Kisser posted:“Oh, that’s rich. You’re laying that on the Frömen? After what you did? Here’s a word for you.”  Dog Kisser posted:She performed a rude gesture until Humbug left, and even afterwards.
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Nov 21, 2017 07:27
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Just posting to say my available glory is up for grabs if dogkisser allows it. This Thread is loving great but I have too many complications IRL to keep track of everything going on given the multitude of other posters and OP things to keep track of. Once my poo poo is sorted I will recheck the thread and if I'm still around I'll see about getting back in the swing of things but as it is just use what I have available to forward the horde.
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Nov 21, 2017 07:33
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Blasphemaster posted:Just posting to say my available glory is up for grabs if dogkisser allows it. Bamboo would like your Glory please, if DK will allow it.
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Nov 21, 2017 07:54
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Unless a direct response from the original poster is given I imagine cornbread's Glory would be given to the horde in general as something in reserve for a future ritual, or to strengthen one already existing. I honestly have no preference just giving my perspective about the current situation.
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Nov 21, 2017 08:12
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CourValant posted:Bamboo would like your Glory please, if DK will allow it. Bamboo posted:”Glory. Is. Earned! Baskets. Are. Made!! Bamboo. Not. Horde!!!  I say we toss it towards the next level of Harvester. The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 14:41 on Nov 21, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 14:37
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   Name: Gabber Skill: Mimicry, Listening {cooldown}, Night Vision HP: 2/3 Glory: 4 Gabber found himself leaning against a tree just outside the prison, kicking rocks with his new boots. A bit of time had passed since he'd fled topside, the air outside doing his disposition a bit of good. He still felt a bit illl at what he'd done at the vote....and the shoes....but he knew himself well enough. Give it a day or two, those feelings would be gone as well and it would all be forgotten in the past. He had to admit, despite being a bit too tight these new boots felt great on his blistered feet. He'd been wandering around for a bit outside before plunking himself against his current tree. Some other members of the Horde had been mulling about outside as well, trying to escape the tomb that had become the Oh-Gee vault at Nägel, but he'd been giving them a bit of a wide berth so far. He scanned around to see what the others were up to. A few seemed to be foraging nearby for anything useful; a few others were trying to disguise the giant trench by the door with branches and leaves to mask the pit in case anyone did try attacking them here. Another lone Horde member appeared to throwing roc- The Lord of Hats posted:"Hey! Gabber! Mind lending me a hand?" Noggins yelled, waving at the distant figure. "Just a little game of catch, I need the practice!" He froze, the events below coming back to the forefront of his mind. He'd seen the look Noggins had given him after his vote...but she didn't seem to be mad. Maybe....maybe he'd misread the look she'd given him? Regardless, he couldn't just turn her down, so he pushed off the tree and began walking towards her. Plastering a smile on his face despite the turmoil still felt inside, he nodded to her as he walked, putting out his hands in a cupping motion as he began to walk closer. Edit: The Lord of Hats posted:I say we toss it towards the next level of Harvester. Agreed.
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Nov 21, 2017 14:49
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  Name: Vist HP: 3 Glory: 2 -> 3 Skills: Jousting, Guarding Sorry, haven't had time to write a post up to my standards, just gonna vote for Fostis
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Nov 21, 2017 15:33
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 “Back to Fostis it is. I pray this isn't a mistake, but sometimes you just have to pick between two crap options. We'll just have to hope that whatever's on that vault is with worth it. Either way, we're done here. It was a fiasco and a half, but we got some recruits, some intel, that vault key, and a bunch of hostages! Not all bad, eh, my Horde!?” The applause and cheers that followed drown out the sound of Zapanda’s colorful objections but as it died down she kept going strong. “-t think you'll get away with this? My people will be looking for me and they won't stand for this sort of treatment! You can't possibly think we'll cooperate with you!? You fu-” “I not only expect it, demand it. Whether or not you like it, you are bound to us now, Nail or no. Select two dozen of your best; they're coming with us. They, and you, can work on the cure on the road, in addition to tending to our wounds. The rest are staying here, in the vault.” “No! You can't leave them down here with the Wendigos!” “Don't worry, I won't.” Roaring, he tore one of the heavy steel doors off one of the abandoned cells, vaulted into the air, then slammed it like a guillotine through a beast's heavy mesh enclosure. The bisected thing twisted in shock and agony, but Grimper brought the door down again and again until it stilled. Zapanda cried out in alarm with the first strike, and thereafter just watched, hands clapped over her mouth, as he crushed them all into muck. “Problem solved. Pack up, my Horde!” --- Things went relatively smoothly after that. Zapanda selected her twenty four, too shellshocked to even grieve with the rest of them for their separation. Magda had already packed all their equipment and supplies with the brusque carelessness of one who had better things to do, and those that were to remain behind clung fearfully to the 1 Ration that the Warlord had graciously seen fit to bequeath them. It would have to last them until they were rescued. After forcing more than a few tearful embraces apart, the Horde managed to maneuver their entire number up and out of the vault. The hostages dutifully allowed themselves to be loaded into a spare wagon waiting outside, which Magda padlocked with a grin. Now for the tricky part. Warlord Grimper cracked his knuckles, then reached for the pyramidal key projecting from the console. His hand stopped just before touching it, then he whispered “Stand back, I don't know what will happen.” The Horde scattered like cockroaches, peering nervously around the corner. He gripped the thing and yanked, easily breaking the magnetic resistance. Several things happened at once. Grimper shouted as though he'd been stung, and he tossed the key from hand to hand while grumbling. The Olivite Pin tore its way out of Gawp’s pocket, then plunged through the intervening concrete wall like a pencil through water. The metal fragments of the hinges shuddered and reassembled themselves, incorporating the missing Pin without skipping a beat. The great hatch slammed itself down onto its moorings with a ferocious force. And, finally, in the fraction of a second before impact, a great scream of terror poured out of the depths - then fell silent as they were sealed within. Grimper watched the proceedings, blinked, then shrugged. “Not my problem. Let's go.” (Well done! Nägel is yours - insofar as an abandoned prison is something you'd want. In addition to reconnaissance, a few items, some recruits, some budding Wendigos (yay?) and a Vault Key, you've also taken Nägel Researchers hostage. As seen, they'll provide 10d100-10 healing during Downtime, but they can also be interrogated for lore. They may also provide simple missions during Downtime, if they're feeling up to it. Their morale is currently incredibly low, but they're holding out hope they'll be rescued or traded. Fat chance, right?) --- As they walked, an unspoken grief hounded them. Qwäg the Risk Assessor walked as though in a daze, scratching at her right arm. The Horde gave her a wide berth, but her friends among them stayed close as they dared, giving her water and dabbing away the sweat pouring off her. Suddenly, she stumbled, falling to her knees. Splut rushed over to her immediately, feeling her forehead (and ignoring the sudden burning pain where he touched her) and tried to help her to her feet, but the Grimper was there, face neutral. “Leave us, it’s time.” Reluctantly, the Horde pulled away, continuing with their march as Grimper carried Qwäg out of sight. He dropped her, then crouched down to look into her eyes. “You’re past the point of resisting this. It’s coming whether you want it or not. Let go, and we’ll deal with what happens when it happens. Her breathing came faster and faster until it seemed like she would burst, and then
Wendigo Conversion Initiating  She rose on powerful limbs and followed him, mind full of colours. (Qwäg has become a Branded Wendigo. Her Risk Assessment Skillcore is corrupted, though Amputation remains untouched. Her base roll becomes 1d500. In addition, R̴i̵̷s͟͝k͢ rear end́͢͟e̕͢s̢͠s̶͢m̴̕e҉̧n͜͏t̛͏ becomes +50 - but if she rolls a 1 while using it, she either attacks her allies or dies instantaneously. It goes without saying that her use in social situations is also extremely curtailed! Finally, her armor is now fused to her body, preventing her from replacing it with another piece, though it can be upgraded. Also, a successful survival of the change gives the Horde a better idea of what to expect: while Branded, a roll of 1-7 will result in a Wendigo, a roll of 8-9 will result in death, and a 10 will result in only minor mutation. Unbranded is similar, but the range for death increases, and turning Wendigo will result in loss of player control.) --- The day’s march was easier than those in the past. It wasn’t as though the terrain was easier, no - but they felt stronger. The Horde was growing in power as well as skill, and things that would have seemed impossible a scant two weeks ago were becoming almost routine. The Unexpectables still basked in the afterglow of their second real victory, but Grimper refused to show even the slightest scrap of pride in them. “What, I should congratulate you every time you wipe your own rear end, too? You are doing what is expected, and nothing further. And you, Poet, don't get too big for your britches. Your captaincy is strictly provisional at the moment, and you're acting like I handed you your own Warlordship!” Snödis knew he was just ribbing her. He trusted her implicitly, which is why he’d conferred upon her the great honour. And indeed, the Neötype Squadron was a great honour, crewed by only the best of the best. And surely they stood out above the others in the Horde, because they had the nicest hats.  The Milliner had done an excellent job of securing them and modifiying them to the Squadron’s purposes. With the caps on their heads, they could do no wrong. “I’m serious, Snödis, if you let your imagination get out of hand and waste my people in some shenanigans I’m going to beat you half to death.” Oh, that Grimper. Such a kidder. (As said last time, Snödis can select five people for the Neötype Squadron - once those picks are solidified, you get HATS in addition to your other bonuses. Oh wow!) --- Fostis came into view by daybreak, and what they saw shocked them… it looked exactly the same. “What, were you expecting it to be swarming with our hated foes? We still have a hell of a head start, and almost certainly they think we’re heading for the Thumbscrew in Noostra. They probably don’t know about what we have hidden here, and if they do they wouldn’t need to send an army… they’d just bomb the tunnels to force us to waste time digging it out. Jeez, I hope they didn’t think of that, I’d be PISSED if we came here for no reason. And I’d blame, I don’t know, Gigs for it.” Gigs raised an eyebrow at the monumental unfairness of the proclamation, but was otherwise Unflappable. The Nailed townfolk all halted their autonomous tasks as the Horde walked into town, turning to face their master. Hatred and fear warred on their faces against their vapid smiles, but Grimper passed one gauntleted palm over the buried Nail and they returned to their duties. “Alright, while I don’t sense any negative presences right at the moment, we have to assume that we could be attacked any time. So I need ambushes, I need scouts, I need absolute knowledge of the surroundings. We can’t dig in here forever, but if they send anyone we need to wipe them out then get mobile as quickly as possible - and we need that Vault open.” He tossed the Vault Key into the air end over end then caught it. “So, impress me.”
(There’s a lot of choices here, but you don’t NEED to cover all of them. If you have an overall strategy for defending against external attacks while you access the Vault AND escaping afterwards, go right ahead and lay that down!) Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 05:27 on Jan 8, 2018 |
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Nov 21, 2017 17:31
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Gado!!! Skill: HP: 3/3 Glory: 1->2 "We did a decent job digging our through down there before, so it shouldn't be much trouble to retrace our steps. Though We'll probably have to widen some of the tunnels down there for our esteemed Warlord to fit though." Back down into the earth! Let's [Head down to the vault] 64 Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 18:15 on Nov 21, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 18:12
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Hob votes to go to vault, will edit post after work Edit: Quote is not edit, so instead have an out of date arts- oops 
WereGoat fucked around with this message at 19:54 on Nov 21, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 18:29
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Pythag HP: (3) of (3) Skill: Equipment: Armor (+5), Iron Shield Glory: 2 It sure was tempting to just guard the wagons, but Magda's recent admonishment played with Pythag's thoughts. He had to try something brave. Besides, his Math might be useful for any puzzles or codes they might encounter. Action: Head to the Vault - 1d100+12 = 59
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Nov 21, 2017 18:35
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  Extra Skillcore: Sitting Quietly HP: 3 Glory: 15->16 Ritual Glory: 4 "Neötypes, Assemble!" Ah, it felt good to have a hat. She had been surprised at how quickly the Millner had completed her requisition; but she should not have worried. Hat had produced only the finest quality headwear and Snödis was positively beaming with pride. She would have to thank her properly at a later date, some time when they wern't just about to break into an Old Guy Vault. "Qwäg!" "You look amazing. Glad to see you among the living. What did the ascendancy feel like? Can you speak? Can you still asses risk? If so, excellent. Will you do us the honor of following us down into the Vault?" "Trinh, Hob, your utility. We need your skills to make sure only the right people get hurt." "Gawp, you are the forward scout. Head into the mines ahead of the team and figure out whats what. See if you can figure out anything more about the door before Grimpner gets there, and don't touch anything. Other then that, I leave it to your initiative. "Dack, I need you to keep Zapanda on the straight and narrow. Yes, the torture-scientist. We need her around should any of you turn during the excavation, and it'l be easier to keep an eye on her if she is right there with us. Anyway; make sure she isn't hurt and that she doesn't get any bright ideas we haven't asked her for. I'll be joining you for this, helping you escort her down into the mines." "Understood, Comrädes? Excellent. Hat up and get ready for anything; Those Old Guys were wilier then a greased up Slinker." -- Escorting Zapanda to the Vault: 1d100+15 = 43 ooc: remember, if you follow my orders you get a +10 to your action! Of course, you don't actually HAVE to follow my orders, but I figure going to the vault is a good use of our increased power.
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Nov 21, 2017 18:43
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Claiming a spot on the Vault team for Sucy, will put down an in character post in a bit.
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Nov 21, 2017 18:44
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  HP:3 Glory:20 Lying Whilst abandoning Qwäg in her direst moment was the last thing he wanted to do, the direct order from Grimper was obeyed swiftly, and he contented himself with insisting that his hand didn't hurt after that scalding contact, to distract from the worry and foreboding. He took in her altered form on her return with profoundly mixed feelings, but sought her out swiftly, mindful as to how abandonment might feel in the circumstance. He offered her a smile, and said, "You're alive, you're still yourself, I could ask for nothing more." Onto Fostis. After what he'd been through before in the town, he was only too eager to lead the effort to Interrogate the citizenry, revving up his cores to full. "Oh, don't worry. I'm sure you're not to blame for what went down on our last visit. You can trust us to use anything you tell us with discretion, there's no chance of any misfortune befalling you, your family or the town. Of course, we'll need to know what's up, but I'm certain you have no reason to keep it from us, do you?" Lying to the Fostisians to milk them for information: 79
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Nov 21, 2017 18:47
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Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Precision HP: 3 Glory: 21->22 Ritual Glory: 1 Previously... "Thanks!" Noggins judged the distance and tossed the rock, coming up short of Gabber. "Sorry! It's kind of a work in progress. I make up for it where I can, but it's not always quite the same. You know how it is." The return toss came, and Noggins reached for it with both hands, fumbling a bit but ultimately holding on, tossing it back a little more accurately than before. "You mind if I ramble a bit? I've got some stuff on my mind, and, well, you're really easy to talk to. And I don't just mean that because of the... uh, mouth situation. You really listen. So... did you hear that Snödis is a captain now? Sounds like she's asking all of the... well... wendigoes... to join her squad. Good for her, but she also told me that I should ask Grimper for permission to do the same thing, and, well... I think I'm going to give it a go. I don't think Vist would forgive me if I didn't invite her, and I think Pythag and Flitter would be good on the team as well... I'd ask Hob, but... I think he's going to be with Snödis..." She caught the next throw, and paused. "Ugh, I'm just beating around the bush. Anyways, if I manage to convince Grimper, would you be willing to join? You don't have to, and if you did it'd be on your own terms--if you want to take up archery, go ahead. The point is, you're a good person and I'd feel better knowing that you were there to back me up. Think it over, it's not like I've got permission yet." She caught the next rock one handed, snatching it out of the air. "Ha! Getting there!" In Fostis... Impress Grimper, ask for captaincy. Impress Grimper, ask for captaincy. Noggins repeated the mantra over and over in her head. But while she seemed to rapidly be getting a reputation for fearlessness, the prospect of an active Old Guys vault was something else entirely. In the end, she wound up towards the back of the group headed down into the mines, pushing a minecart along to carry back any loot they found. Well, maybe not any loot. Any loot that would fit in a minecart, at least. Into the Vault!: 1d100+21 27 
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Nov 21, 2017 19:14
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Skill: Sleuthing (using), Science HP: 3/3 Glory: 4 ----> 5 Humbug had considered heading down into the vault to apply the use of his new science core, but the spots were filling up fast. Instead he headed off to go look for clues and signs of rebel activity - they'd have had to have some kind of non-verbal method of communication, like sign language or grafitti or similar - that was one of the more likely loopholes for Grimper's commands. Sadly, his search turned up very little, and the detective had to admit that the Fostisians were a wilier lot than he'd given them credit for. Sleuthing to help the interrogation crew: 1d100+14 25
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Nov 21, 2017 19:22
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Name: Vist HP: 3 Glory: 3 -> 4 Skills: Jousting, Guarding Vist was struck by a quasi mystical awe. She had never before seen something so clearly supernatural before - her comrade in arms mutating before her very eyes into the purest example of HUGENESS that the Long could ever inspire. She took it as a sign. There were a few of the Horde who had the makings of Yousters, born for the saddle or shoulder, weapons aloft as they overran the foe. She could forge them into HARD, sterling knights, fit to flank the Horde's enemies and run down the survivors. She would! With this sign of the Long's favor, she would for sure! But a cavalry was nothing without trusty mounts. Despite being a mining town, Fostis was oddly bereft of animals. The Fromen themselves, although barely above livestock themselves, would confer no advantage of speed if she were to ride them. And Vist wasn't sure she trusted them, Nail or no Nail. So she had to come up with something else. And something else occurred to her...perhaps the Long had provided? -- Elsewhere, Qwag was recovering from her transformation. Vist felt a stab of pity, but war waited for no To. She found Qwag, told her about her idea of riding the Wendigos into battle, and let her think on the decision. She left to look for Noggins. She knew who she wanted for a second in command, and the former carpenter had all the making of a fine Knight of the Long. Vist will be Going out and looking for trouble. She'll ride Qwag if she agrees, but otherwise will just be fleet of foot. I'll post again later with the roll. Sorry not much time!! This is a super lovely post and I want to apologize to everyone who read it. I've also moved my roll to a later, better post. Thanks for understanding, or if you cannot then f*ck you man ive got a lot going on right now and i'm heck of busy! leave me alone! dont push me!! WOW I'M TELLING gowb fucked around with this message at 03:28 on Dec 15, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 19:27
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  Nam̠̥̱̥͚e̯͕͡: Hob HP: 1/1 Glory: 8>9 Ri͞t̲͠ua͚̝̹͉̟͇l Glory : 3>5 Skill: Bee keeping, Contortion, Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛(used) D̵̻o̼̦̜̗͕o̧̭̻̭̤͕̺m ͓̖͚͎̟̮͠counter: 3>2 When Snödis barged into the space with Qwäg, Hob was a little confused. A Monsterist squad? Hob shrugged, whatever. Later though, as they travelled back to Fostis, the idea grew on him. If he was in a monsterist squad, then at least Noggins would be spared of having to be there when he died. Or monstered out. But probably died. Yeah, she wouldn't want to see that. Yes, it was for the best of he stayed away. He was Fated for Death. The vault was calling. He just needed to find a way to convince the rest of the monsterists to... Swedish Thaumocracy posted:"Neötypes, Assemble!" Oh, that was easy. Of course it was, it is fate. Just need to get to the vault now it w͡a͏͙i̳͖̱ts҉̯. The singing was harder to suppress now. L̮͉̼̟̪̗̘͔̀̕͜a̴҉̘̰̳̣͎͍̱͢ͅa͏̨̟̩̙̲̺̯̀ạ̶̻͎̱a̸͖̗̙̲̰̺̳͚͘a̛̙̥̘ ̡̹͔̮̩̺̠̖♪͕͙͉͙̙̹͡ but it was almost time. He was in the story now. The hero Noggins woud emerge at the end, yes, but had a place in it. Hob joined the Neötypes walking towards the vault. Walked towards his death. A slightly crazed smile on his face. They should know what awaits them. But Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛ was not an option. Not yet. Not until the vault. But he had such a song to sing. Perhaps... The skillcore he had used to suppress the singing completely could be used differently? He focused his Contortion abilities in his vocal chords again, but this time a wavering note emerged. Not Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛, just... Singing. A simple folk song. Motivating then to get into the vault, to crack it open. But as the song progressed it became clear that Hob was not keeping the Ş̀̕̕͜on̢g̸̵̨ contained. The Ş̀̕̕͜on̢g̸̵̨ changed, new verses conjured from the aether, from what they had learned of the vaults, what the stories only implied. All was laid bare in the Secret Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛, provided insights to how to open the vault from the legends and folklore of the Töans. Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨ the story of Gorbet the cunning: 1d100+18+40 from wrong skillcore used 103≥143 As they approached the console, Hob Ş̀̕̕͜a̷n̢g̸̵̨ out the culmination of the song, the tune that had haunted him since he first ingested the Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛ skillcore, with each warped note he pointed to a different button which it appeared to represent. His bow writhed on his back, the string Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛ along with him. After the Ş̀̕̕͜on̢g̸̵̨ ended, Hob sidled up to Grimper. "There was another part t the story, sir." Ignoring Grimpers dismissal, Hob continued. " Gorbet fled the vault forever, taking the key with him but sealing the beast within. We should be wary of Fröan scouts (or Zapanda) who may want to emulate Gorbet." The Lord of Hats posted:Into the Vault! H͏͏̝̤̟͉ḁ̶̗̟̘͉̬͜h̴̳͍̘̙̰̝̙̼a̶̷̙̦̝͉̥̻͞h̫̼̲̪͔̕a̛͇̫͖̳̖͔h̦͙̫͠a̵̬̯̰, faaaate Hob hadn't realised she was in the vault group. He felt a pang of regret and worry at the risk the vault posed. But of course. How could a hero emerge if she wasn't there to begin with? WereGoat fucked around with this message at 23:17 on Nov 22, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 19:53
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   Name: Bamboo HP: 3/3 Glory: 19 + 1 (Action Glory) > 20 Skill: Basket Weaving [Ready] -[Fostis]- As the Horde finally arrived back in Noostra, Bamboo wordlessly hopped off the wagon she had been riding on and walked towards the mines; she had only one location in mind. Listening to the Warlord as he gave them their options, Bamboo called out, "Must. Take. Vault! Unfinished. Business. There! Bamboo. Must. See!" Action > Head Down To The Vault: 1d100+19 37 [1d100=18] ***** OOC ***** The Lord of Hats posted:
I don't have an issue with that, and, there is a difference between Bamboo the character and CourValant the poster.  
CourValant fucked around with this message at 04:45 on Nov 23, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 20:04
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  Name: Trinh Skills: taxidermy, jumping HP: 1+1/1 Glory: 3 -> 4 Ritual Glory: 1 Status: Skinkekelomas, Mutation Time left before mutation: 0 During travel Trinh tried not to look back when she heard Qwäq collapse. The seconds dragged on. She must have just tripped. Trinh stood in place desperately waiting for confirmation. Then finally, the heavy uneven footsteps. So this is what was waiting. She barely managed to stop laughing. Good thing they had brought the good doctor along, otherwise things might have looked grim. She clutched the offical Neötype squad hat. But now that wendigoism was as good as cured getting infected had been purely a good thing. She was really moving up in the world. Time to smile and march onwards. She was sure she would work up the nerve to look at Qwäq any minute now. Fostis quote:"Trinh, Hob, your utility. We need your skills to make sure only the right people get hurt." "Y̿̃̅͗̽̍̓̊̚̚e͒̐̑̀̊͊̽̈́̿͆s̽͒̂̆̀̎̾̈́̿͘!̛͐̑͒͒̈̉̈́̿͘" The mystery of the vault had been haunting Trinh since it's discovery. So much that she'd been set on heading there even before Snödis asked. Sure it was dangerous but she had hard time caring right now. The worries of the world, and also her feet, felt so, so far away. Must be the captain's enthusiasm catching on to her. JUMPing over the legslicers and other nonsense: 1d100+10+3 110 Another good roll! Edit: forgot glory from the roll. Jvie fucked around with this message at 23:45 on Nov 21, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 20:07
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  Skill 2: Amputation HP: 1/1 Glory 13 Qwäg staggered under the drastic changes to her balance, and the flood of new stimuli pouring over her. The additional eyes didn't help, so spread throughout her chaotic anatomy that her brain couldn't compensate like Snödis's or even Gawp's could. She trudged, dragging the hulking mass that was once her right arm along behind her, its eye giving her a constant rear-view that threatened to send her legs in different directions. But she was adjusting. Faster than she'd expected. Faster than should be possible. She was adapting. Becoming. There were Colors, now. Everywhere. New Colors. Colors she didn't have words for...Not yet. And the smells. She could smell the life around her, especially the potential seeds of rebirth within the monsterists among the Horde. She felt an obligation...some twisted maternal urge to protect HERS. AJ_Impy posted:He offered her a smile, and said, Qwäg knew better than might be expected what she looked like. The extra eyes gave a certain added perspective absent the run-of-the-mill Tö. She felt a pang of bitter disappointment as she looked at Splut, for what might have been, but oddly, no shame, no anxiety. Not anymore. She saw the tangle of conflicting emotions surrounding Splut...she called the smear of color Spläg. "Y̫͚͓͓O̠̣͎̰͡U̷̵͇͍̯̩͇̮'̤̠͓͇̹ͅR̨̻̤͘͞E͎̦͖͕̻̞͍ ̜͈̹̺A̪͈̦̰̱̕͢͝ ͖̗̰͙̻͕̼̘̼̀͡G̷̞̩̭͓̘̯O̧̻̫̗O̧̯̱͖̘̦̺̮͟͞ͅD̵͇͈͚͈ͅ ̵͔̠̻͉̱͓̪̦͓F̶̡̜̠͎̘̖̦R̯̠͍I̴͚̩͍̺̬̬̠͘É̶̶̯̗̦̹͕̖̮̜N͚̯̼Ḏ͓̗͚͞ ," she rumbles, lips twisting into a broad, toothy semblance of a smile, reaching out with her more normal left hand in an affectionate gesture. "N̠̱̘̟̭͟͜͞O̘̪̭͉̱̤͝͝ ̷̠̦͚̰̕R͓̰̳͓͖͔E͏͈̜͜G̬͕Ŗ̲̗̞̻̰̖̺̀E̲̘̤͉̖͘͡T̺̼͙̲͙̥͠S̠͖̺ , Splut, O̘͎͎͠K͔͓͜Á̛̟͎̟͇͟Y̷͉̟͉ ?" gowb posted:"I have a proposition for you. I am going to form a cavalry squad to supplement our forces, similar to Captain Snodis' Neotypes. I would propose to you that our cavalry ride upon Wendigos! Such a force would descend upon the enemy like thunderbolts! It would be glorious!" Her eyes shone with the possibilities. "We could at least try it, while intercepting any incoming forces. Think it over, I beg you!"  Qwäg stared at Vist with every moist, staring eye she could bring to bear. She suppressed the urge, the need to peel open her gaping maw, settling for letting just a few errand fangs peep from her lips. What were once fingers, now boneless, striving things at the end of a writhing column of tumorous flesh squeezed the handle of her Bōnsaw until the wood creaked. Staring at the creature before her, the colors swimming in her vision coalesced along the fault lines of Vist's anatomy, and Qwäg felt a surge of icy resolve rise in her belly, lifted on a wave of hot, acidic gorge. Then it passed. "N̵̴̨̼̤̟͉͝͝Ò̞͉̤̟͉͚͔̰̹͟͡ͅ ," she stated, then simply stared, unblinking, until the smaller Töan left. Swedish Thaumocracy posted:"Qwäg!" "You look amazing. Glad to see you among the living. What did the ascendancy feel like? Can you speak? Can you still asses risk? If so, excellent. Will you do us the honor of following us down into the Vault?" "ǸI͜C̶̸͟Ȩ ̧͡H̴͝A̷T̵́,̀ S̕͘͢Ņ̸͝U͏R̵̨̨D͘S̶҉ ," she replied, her new mouth and surplus of teeth giving her a bit of difficulty with the Monsterist Captain's name. "Ỳ͡E͟͞S̷̷҉,́ ͝T̢͜O ͟T͜H͘͞E͠ ͜V̶͝À͜͏Ư͠L͡T̵̨.̶̵ ̕I͡ CÀ̛͢N̸̵̢ ̴̴͢S̴͜T҉̕IL̴Ĺ.̡͡.̵̧́.͟ " She reached down with the left hand to stroke the cover of her Riskbook. Peering at Snödis appraisingly, she watched the officer's fault lines and morbidities, listened to the whispers of probability enveloping her, and Qwäg smiled. With a dozen too many teeth. "I͟͡ ̛D̸̨ON'̷͡T ̕N͘EED̡͘ ̕T̶̨͟HE̛ B̨͞ÓO̕͟͞K A̢N̷̕Y̢MO̵̵͡R̢͘͞È͠,̛ ͞S͜N͜U̕͝R̸̀͡D̶̸̢S͟.͡͠ ͜TH̷͏̨E̷̵ ̨R̵҉̨Į͢S̶̷K̸͞ ̀͝S̸P͜E҉̢AK̸S͏.͞ ̢I̧͢ ̷͘҉L͞Ì͞S̶͞͝T͠͡Ȩ̡N̵͘..̧͜.̢͢͜ " Following SNURDS into the Vault! (+Risk Assessment, +Officer Buff if applicable) : 1d500+73 180
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Nov 21, 2017 20:09
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 Name: Dack Skills: Athletics (Using), Ą̀͠c̵̢͡͠͏r̴̸̛͝͡o͘͢͜͡b͜à̵̡̕t̷̢̀͜i̸̸͞c͘͟s̀͜͟ HP: 3 Glory: 10>11 Doom Clock: Three rounds remain Swedish Thaumocracy posted:"Dack, I need you to keep Zapanda on the straight and narrow. Yes, the torture-scientist. We need her around should any of you turn during the excavation, and it'll be easier to keep an eye on her if she is right there with us. Anyway; make sure she isn't hurt and that she doesn't get any bright ideas we haven't asked her for. I'll be joining you for this, helping you escort her down into the mines." Well, that seemed simple enough. Just escorting Zapanda didn't really make use of Dack's new ability, but it was important. It also meant Dack would be close to Warlord Grimper so he could be branded on short notice. Dack hesitated before, due to how painful receiving the brand looked, but he's going to have to go through with it eventually. Then again, Dack had heard others talking about how the Vault was heavily trapped, so maybe it would be best to hold off on the brand for a while longer, just so he wouldn't be distracted by pain while surrounded by OG traps? Wait, Dack is part of a squad now, he doesn't need to figure this out on his own! As he and Captain Snödis prepared to escort Zapanda, Dack took off his hat and tapped between his eyes, shrugged, then pointed to Snödis. Hopefully that was enough for the Captain to understand the situation. With that distraction taken care of, Dack could focus on his assigned task: escorting Zapanda, which meant making absolutely certain that the mad scientist didn't "accidentally" flip a wrong switch or touch the wrong panel and activating an OG trap. Which meant Dack needed to stay on his toes at all times. _______________ Dack is staying on his toes to make sure he can stop Zapanda from "accidentally" activating a trap: 61, and that's with the +10 bonus from Snödis. Astus fucked around with this message at 22:46 on Nov 21, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 20:55
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Name: Gabber Skill: Mimicry, Listening {cooldown}, Night Vision HP: 2/3 Glory: 4->5 The first rock came his way - a bit short, but not by much. He'd made a half-hearted attempt to grab it, but it hit the ground, bouncing a few times to rest near his feet. The Lord of Hats posted:"Sorry! It's kind of a work in progress. I make up for it where I can, but it's not always quite the same. You know how it is." Nodding politely, he picked up the rock and sent it back Noggin's way. He didn't know what only having one eye was like, but he certainly knew that adjusting to new skillcores could take time; he'd heard through the chatter of the Horde she'd just picked up her first besides the one she started with recently, one dealing with Precision. The rock arced into her hands, with her briefly bobbling it before sending it back his way. A much better throw this time - he took a few steps to his left, but was able to grab it this time without much fuss. She was already getting better at it. quote:"You mind if I ramble a bit? I've got some stuff on my mind, and, well, you're really easy to talk to. And I don't just mean that because of the... uh, mouth situation. You really listen. Gulping slightly and fearing the worst, he nodded again. Here it comes, he was so stupid to have voted that way, and now he'd have to deal with hearing Noggins' disappointment in him firsthand... quote:So... did you hear that Snödis is a captain now? Sounds like she's asking all of the... well... wendigoes... to join her squad. Good for her, but she also told me that I should ask Grimper for permission to do the same thing, and, well... I think I'm going to give it a go. I don't think Vist would forgive me if I didn't invite her, and I think Pythag and Flitter would be good on the team as well... I'd ask Hob, but... I think he's going to be with Snödis..." Sweat began to bead on his forehead, but he was far enough away he didn't think she'd noticed yet. He had seen Snödis stomping around earlier, making her way to what appeared to be half the gathered Horde, mostly those who'd been touched by some form of illness or monsterism. She hadn't made her way to Gabber, but that was fine by him. Honestly, the woman intimidated him quite a bit. Something about that stare of hers - all four eyes seeming to examine one not for who they were, but what use they could be. He'd been trying to steer clear of her, and been successful so far for the most part. Noggins continued, bringing up her own desires for a captaincy. She'd be perfect!, he thought to himself. The most deserving out of all of them given what he'd seen so far. As she rattled off the various names of people she planned on inviting to her squad, he couldn't help but quickly think of each in turn. Vist was a great warrior, even if the tenets of her Order did seem to be a bit...odd. Pythag certainly looked the part with his suit of armor, and his head for numbers would be invaluable. If Flitter could grow her butterfly to the right size she'd be a terror from the back of it's wings; and Hob.....he would have been a great addition, but.....yeah. He threw the rock back to her and she caught it deftly. Her group would certainly lead the Horde to great things! quote:"Ugh, I'm just beating around the bush." quote:
Her next throw was even more accurate than the last, thudding against his chest and dropping to the ground. He'd made no attempt to catch it, too stunned by her words. If his mouth wasn't sewn together, he imagined his jaw would be hanging open. He pointed to himself, pausing; then pointed at himself again1. Not only did she want him for her squad, it seemed based on her discussion so far that she'd asked him first. A smile went over his face from ear to ear, his earlier fears of being called out for his cowardice evaporating. He'd had no plans of seeking promotion himself, self-preservation being his only real goal so far beyond finding new and interesting pieces of loot and obtaining as many Nails as he could. He'd surely be put in more danger if he went where brave Noggins trod, but she'd succeeded so far - was there any place safer or more interesting to go than beside her in the Hordes ranks? Was there anywhere he felt like he did more good, than at her side besting their foes? He pointed at Noggins, then began strutting around as he'd seen Snödis doing earlier, puffing out his chest as he did so. He stopped, turning back to Noggins and giving her a double thumbs up while emphatically nodding his head.2 He then pointed back to himself, unsheathed his sword and dropped to one knee, holding it at the tip with the handle pointed towards Noggins.3. Standing back up and sheathing his sword, he threw the rock in the air towards her as high as he could manage, it arcing back down as she managed a stunning one handed grab. If she was promoted, she could have his sword if she wanted it. --------------------- The choice had been made, and they'd be returning to Fostis. Gabber couldn't help but be relieved that Grimper hadn't actually killed all those in Fostis as he had voted for. It would have made things easier, but it was wrong. Kill the enemy combatants, Nail the populace, but to be so cruel - he couldn't be that way, wouldn't, he decided. That reminded him too much of the cruelty of the Oh-Geez, and he wanted as little to do with them as possible - especially after his second visit to an Oh-Gee vault again ended in terrible screaming and things that shouldn't be possible occurring. The march felt a bit easier than the last one. Time seemed to fly by, and before he knew it they were back! His new boots had held out well during the march, and none from Nägel had raised any alarm over some missing boots, so his guilt had quickly abated. People were lining up to delve into the secrets of the vault at Fostis, and Gabber was more than happy to let them. He'd had enough of what the Oh-Geez were selling, and he'd be wary to journey far into any of their death-traps again unless directly ordered to. He did see that Noggins had also made her vote known for journeying into the vault as well. He knew she was hoping to make herself stand out so she could obtain rank, and Grimper was going as well - there'd be no real chance she'd skip out on it, even if he asked her to. He hoped as hard as he could she and the rest of them journeying below would be alright. Thinking over the remaining options, he saw Vist,the Youster of the Long, volunteering to head out and bloody the noses of any enemy marching on Fostis. It'd be dangerous, but if it meant more time for the Vault crew to do what they needed to do, he needed to be brave. Would he rather guard the wagons, especially with his head still bandaged up? Sure. Now was not the time for the easy choice though, as lives would depend on delaying what came for Fostis. It'd also give him a chance to get to know Vist better, given Noggins' words on planning on inviting her friend Vist to join any group she might form was she to be promoted. Gabber fell in line with Vist, making his choice to Go Out Looking For Trouble known. Reina help him, he was going looking for trouble. Going Looking For Trouble, Using Night Vision For Early Warning: 1d100+14 26 Well that's just wonderful. Spoilers for Gabber's attempts to speak sans words: 1) "Me....you mean, me?" 2) "You would be a great Captain! You should absolutely do it!" 3) "If you want me to join, I would be honored to serve you." ------------------------------------ gowb posted:Nvm made the roll. I think the most you could add to your roll there is +13 (10 for one skill + 3 glory you had before the roll), right? Don't think we can use more than one skill at once - if we have been able to I'm a fool because I'd be rolling +30 every chance I got! Task Manager fucked around with this message at 21:38 on Nov 21, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 21:29
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   Name: Ringo! HP: 2/2 (Crippled) Glory: 10>11 Skill: Lockpicking, Ventriloquism (using now), Whistling (cooldown) Ringo saw the Vault Party sally out. They looked mean and ready to kick rear end. With Grimper there, they'd all probably get out alive. For his part, he followed Vist and the others off into the outskirts of Fostis. "Everyone, play it cool, and let me take the lead. I've got a scheme I've been thinking over for a bit. Get ready to rush in when it's time." Ringo skirted ahead of the rest of the group, and darted from cover to cover. As he went, he threw his voice, trying to make it appear that there was a lone sentry lost outside Fostis. With luck, any advance scouts would think he was 20 or 30 feet from where he really was. Easy Ambush, Easy Life. Looking For Trouble using Ventriloquism to set up ambush opportunities. Go Looking for Trouble: 1d100+20 81
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Nov 21, 2017 22:01
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Neötype Squad Assemble!   Also man you guys have bumpy flippin' heads.
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Nov 21, 2017 22:42
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HP:3 Glory:20 Lying Bee Bonk posted:Qwäg knew better than might be expected what she looked like. The extra eyes gave a certain added perspective absent the run-of-the-mill Tö. She felt a pang of bitter disappointment as she looked at Splut, for what might have been, but oddly, no shame, no anxiety. Not anymore. He took what had once been her left hand in one of his own, reassuringly firmly, and nodded his assent. "No regrets", he lied.
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Nov 21, 2017 23:11
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 Name: Harlee Skill: Clowning (Used this turn) HP: 3/3 Equipment: Really Puffy Yellow Collar (Armor +1) Glory: 3 Harlee didn't like the sound of any of these options. Where was the fun? The humor? The laughs and pie fights and acrobatics and balloons? Man, joining this horde might have been a bad idea! Oh well, best to make the best of the situation. There was that group of Wagons holding those jerks that kept her as Wendigo bait at Nagel. She always loved to captivate an audience, and what better audience than a captive audience? HAHAHAHAHA the puns were already flowing. Oh, did she have plans for that group. They involved stand up routines. They involved balloons. They involved indeterminate watery substances. And, of course, it involved slapstick. And well, if she got bored or her "volunteers" became unruly, she would be happy to laugh along with any Fostisians dropping by the cart. Guard the Wagon: 1d100+13: 20 [1d100=7] Hopefully she hadn't gotten too rusty during her captivity.
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Nov 21, 2017 23:54
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  Skills:Spreading Disease, Cursing HP: 2/3 Glory: 10 Grumbus opened his bag of pets, a look of pure delight passing over his face as he got a good look at the contents. Magda had given him the good rats! These weren't your cute pampered rats that most people kept as pets. These were filthy, mangy sewer rats. Mean-son-a-bitch-fightin' rats! Grumbus stuck a lesion covered arm into the bag, letting out a gleeful giggle as his new friends sank their horrible little teeth into his pestilent flesh. These rats would do nicely. Grumbus left Madga with an excited, "theseratsareperfectthankyousomuchmadgayourethebest!!!!!", and went to go play with his pets. Once he was away, Grumbus reached into the bag and pulled out what felt like the biggest rat. It was easily the leader of the bunch; Grumbus could tell by its size and bitchin' scars. Grumbus thought for a moment and spoke to the rat, "I think I'm gonna name you Augustus." Grumbus, however, faced a predicament. He had a bag full of rats and for whatever reason he was having a hard time coming up with names that didn't have swearwords in them. So he decided ask the rest of the horde. "Hey, fellas, I got some pets! Would you guys like to help me name them all?" Speaking of swearing, Grumbus was still stressed out from the Wendigo encounter, so he decided to take it out on some hapless Frö guys. He approached a group of them, bellowing, "HEY SHITPUPPETS". "That's right, I called you shitpuppets, because you moronic pisshogs are going to loving dance for me. TELL ME EVERYTHING YOU KNOW OR I'LL SIC MY PAL AUGUSTUS ON YOU FUCKS" He reached into the bag and dangled Augustus by the tail just out of reach. Interrogation by Verbal Abuse: 1d100+20 = 34 Despite his crusty demeanor, Grumbus was actually quite mild-mannered. Perhaps his heart just wasn't in it this time? paper bag with a face fucked around with this message at 00:06 on Nov 22, 2017 |
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Nov 21, 2017 23:57
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