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Cloud Potato
Jan 9, 2011

"I'm... happy!"

Name: Hat
Skills: Millinery (+15), Backflips (+10)
HP: 3/3
Equipment: Spear (+1), Leather Armour (+1), Sikatris Scarf
Glory: 22
Ritual Glory: 1

Hat landed back on the ground. Getting ever closer to the Archers. She wasn't sure if she was knocking any arrows out of the sky like she planned, but at least none had hit her yet. She tensed up for another jump-

-and the immense shadow of Trinh passed overhead, soaring higher and further than Hat ever could, an entire tree held in her hands, catching the vast majority of the enemy arrows. Hat knew better than most how terrifying it was to face a Wendigo in battle. The sight of one- no, there were a few now- backing up her side filled her with a sense of confidence. She jumped again, following in Trinh's wake, just trying to keep up.

Another landing, and something felt wrong, deep in the chest. A belch of pink smoke escaped Hat's lips. Resonation? Now, of all times?! Hat thought, before shaking her head. No time. Later. Fight now.

One final jump and Hat was now alongside the Fröan Archers. As she moved to engage them in combat, she could see Snödis offer them a challenge. Using her hat as a target? She hadn't even paid for it yet! As one of the archers nocked an arrow, Hat cleared her mind of all the battlefield noise, raised her spear, and charged.

Attacking the archers!: 1d100+22+1 94 :black101:

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WereGoat
Apr 28, 2017



Name: Hob

HP 1/1

Glory: 12

Ritual Glory : 6

Skill: B̴̷̛́̀é̸̡͠è̴̛͞ ̶͜Ķ̕e͝͡è̢̢̡̨p̵̢̛҉͞i͏͠ń̷̡g̷͘͝(used), Contortion, Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛(cooldown)

The bees nesting in his face, it felt whole now but wrong wrong wrong. No time to adjust, no time to panic. A familiar voice shouted over the noise.

Swedish Thaumocracy posted:

"Hob! "I Knew you'd make it. Do not despair, the bees must have heard your song. It was lovely by the way. Do not fear your power, embrace it. Use it. Destroy the drummers!"

The drummers. Hob ran on unsteady legs, confidence growing as he approached. Sword gripped in his two thin hands. Shield held high. Drummers balked to look at them, as they would. His sword bit deep. But there was more to follow.

Unleash the beeeeees: 1d500+50+11+1+10 106!

The bees swarmed out of his face. It was almost like having a thousand eyes at once, his connection to each drone was so strong. Sting Sting Sting.

AJ_Impy
Jun 17, 2007

SWORD OF SMATTAS. CAN YOU NOT HEAR A WORLD CRY OUT FOR JUSTICE? WHEN WILL YOU DELIVER IT?
Yam Slacker

HP:3
Glory:23
Lying on cooldown
Ritual Glory:1

He looked upon his handiwork and that of his hordemates in the ruin and confusion of the Drummers, and was well pleased. The briefest of moments to assess the chaos of battle and his heart sank: Grimper was getting pummelled by the enemy commander! Going against him alone was suicide, and en masse wasn't much better, but perhaps, perhaps he could arrange for a strike from an entirely unexpected direction. It would take a hell of a bluff, but that was his stock-in-trade, and if it gave their warlord a fighting chance, it was worth any risk.

He used the chaos of the battlefield to go from the drummers, trusting his Hordemates to finish them, across to the Stringslayers, lashing out with his swordcane where necessary, doing his part in the melee. As the opportunity arose, he directed his potent deceptions upon the enemy ranged warriors,

"Agenou is faltering! We have to bolster him, he can get repowered by our projectiles if they touch him! Loose everything we've got on Commander Agenou, it's our only hope!"

Reckless assault! Attacking the stringslayers, Bluffing to try and get them to fire at their own Commander: 121!

Half-wit
Aug 31, 2005

Half a wit more than baby Asahel, or half a wit less? You decide.

Dog Kisser posted:

Alright, took a look at math - it's all fine, with the exception of a few typos and some shoddy coding on my part in the spreadsheet. As Half-wit pointed out, I had the 'total soldiers acted' cell counting >0, and some actions had gone negative. Woops! I think everyone is accounted for in the previous update. Now, to see what I missed narratively! The best part of all!

Hooray!

Dog Kisser posted:

Also yes Hob is gross now and I love it!
Hooraaaay! :captainpop:

Slaan
Mar 16, 2009



ASHERAH DEMANDS I FEAST, I VOTE FOR A FEAST OF FLESH
:rip: Harlee, peparoni and chez pizza

New gal time



Face: H7



Name: Gränï
Main skill core: Cross Stitching
Secondary skillcores: Spinning (mook on excel cell 71)
HP: 2/3
Glory: 0 > 1
Free equipment: Rolling pin +1 (Iron bar as stand in)


Gränï had it with these whippersnappers. The other To were bad enough. All they wanted was for her to bake them cookies and sew up their wounds. No respect for their elders.

But these drummers and dancers and musicians? Rubbish! Why couldn't they play the nice music of the older days? It was just too loud for her old bones and the rhythm could hardly be called rhythm! One couldn't even waltz to it with a strapping young lad, now could one?

Time to get these dancers off of her lawn. She just could not countenance all that hip thrusting and twërking and all. She needed to teach them a lesson so she could finally settle down and finish up her current project: Grimpner's head sewed onto a cute little scarf.

GET OFF MY LAWN!1d100+1: 29 [1d100=28]

Oh, but her hip was acting up in this weather!

Slaan fucked around with this message at 01:38 on Dec 2, 2017

Jvie
Aug 10, 2012


Name: Trinh
Skills: taxidermy(+50, corrupted), jumping(cd)
HP: 1+1/1
Glory: 5 -> 6
Ritual Glory: 1

"So you think he will like it?" Trinh looked over her shoulder. What a question. Then again Valeria had never had an eye for the arts. "Of course he will. Its exactly as he ordered." She turned back to her desk. Still enough time to put in the eyes. She picked the tiny glass bauble with tweezers and raised it against the window. She paused, gazing at the sun.
The false eye fell from her grip and rolled across the floor. Her friend crouched to pick it up. "I just think you are... taking it too far this time." She reluctantly gestured towards Trinh's latest project. A diorama of pair of rats dressed as royalty pulling a wheelbarrow filled with their own bones.
Trinh snatched the eye from Valeria's hands. "No. How could he complain? It is social commentary, humor and a pet memorial all in one." She opened a drawer and drew out a small rock. One step was still missing. "I would have never gotten this far if I just did what my customers think they want." She slammed the pebble into the other rat's mouth. Stuck. With a twist the the teeth flew off and she could ram the rock down it's throat. She had to hold on to the rat with other hand to keep it in place while she pushed as hard as she could. The stiches broke one by one, and the filling spread all over her work table. Another rock went in, this one much easier than the first, then another. And another.

archers: 1d500+50+10+5+1 152

Bee Bonk
Feb 19, 2011


Skill 2: Amputation
HP: 1/1
Glory 16
Ritual Glory 1

Qwäg nods absently as Snödis encourages her and orders her to support the Unexpectables assaulting the ranks of archers, running a long, ribbon-like tongue along the serrated blade of her bōnsaw. She can hear the rippling strings of the long-ranged instrumentalists, and the incessant plucking itches the backs of her eye sockets. The Wendigo Risker narrows her eyes until the physical shapes of her foes blur into a smear of gray, lurching forward with only the burning lines of their interconnected segments to guide her. Her saw screams across the stone, leaving a trail of sparks as she rushes the massed archers with dismemberment on her mind.


Attack the String-Slayers!: 1d500+16+10+10+1 75

Bee Bonk fucked around with this message at 05:33 on Dec 2, 2017

The Lord of Hats
Aug 22, 2010

Hello, yes! Is being very good day for posting, no?
You'll never see it comiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin'.... you see/that my math is/too fast for eyes...

Lone Goat
Apr 16, 2003

When life gives you lemons, suplex those lemons.




Face H13



Name: Somnö
Main Skillcore: BIGNESS
Secondary Skillcore: Snoring (poached from row 71 but people in discord said it was ok to take it from them and put it on a fresh mook)
HP 3/3
Status ailments: none
Glory: 0
Free equipment: Ball and Chain +1




Somnö was tired. Somnö was always tired. It took a lot of energy to move her massive frame around. The doctors at Nägel were convinced it was a type of Monsterism that provided her bulk; rather than giving her extra eyes or appendages, it gave her extra thick bones and guts, and enough muscle to carry them. They said they were trying to help her, but Somnö was never afforded a choice in the matter. The doctors had captured her and performed a battery of tests on her to determine if she actually had Monsterism, but Somnö knew deep down in her enormous heart, this is just the way she was.

Somnö idly flicked the Nail embedded in her shoulder. When the Unexpectables had raided the Nägelese prison, Somnö thought that she would be free, but instead was conscripted into the horde. The Tö had offered to remove her shackles, but Somnö declined. She knew she wasn't truly free, yet.

Somnö inspected the opposing force to determine where her bulk was best applied. She saw the masterfully crafted Violins and the bows used to both play them and fire their arrows. They looked fragile. Fragile enough to Crush. She hefted the ball and chain still attached to her leg, swung it over her head, and bashed it into the String-Slayers with all her massive might.

Using BIGNESS to bash the bows into bits!: 1d100r1+10: 96


edited with profile and weapon~

Lone Goat fucked around with this message at 08:37 on Dec 2, 2017

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.
Welcome to the party!

Have some stuff!

Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 08:03 on Dec 2, 2017

Lux Anima
Apr 17, 2016


Dinosaur Gum

simplefish
Mar 28, 2011

So long, and thanks for all the fish gallbladdΣrs!


Since the Wendingoes have posted, gonna update my previous post - Börk keeps going for the archers, not Agenou

Barbed Tongues
Mar 16, 2012






Pythag
HP: (3) of (3)
Skills:
* Math (cooling)
Equipment:
* Armor (+5)
* Sharp Stick (+0)
* Iron Shield (1 hp)
* Mask (+50 Disguise)
Glory: 5

Pythag posted:

"Shield and Ranged hordelings, to me! The Archers, they fire to a melody, to a rhythm! Look at the pattern, we can use that to our advantage. Let's go!"

He focused on the music, measuring the tempo. Beat, beat, pause, bridge, turn, beat, fire. Okay... Beat, beat, pause, bridge, turn, beat, fire. Right. Beat, beat, pause, bridge, turn, beat, fire. Ok, one more and then I go. Beat, beat, pause....

His mind went blank. As his senses returned, it was in the mid-swing of battle. Ho, haha, guard, turn, parry, dodge, spin, ha, thrust! His wooden stick bonked an enemy across the face, leaving a wicked bruise. Yes! Er, no... that wasn't an enemy. That was Dummy! He'd been overcome by the music and choreography and was fighting his own people. The next rhythm came down... Ho, haha, guard, turn, parry, dodge, spin, ha, thrust! With all his might Pythag pulled against the musical patterns, his stick swinging wide, barely missing Sucy.

Pythag stumbled out of his ensorcelled formation, catching his breath and his wits. My lord, he thought, How many had I whacked?

First a coward, now a traitor... He was slightly de-panicked as he noted that others in the horde had succumbed as well, harming the team rather than helping.

Shadows of arrows rode over him, and he held his shield up as he considered. Maybe he could still turn this around. He knew the music, he knew the feelings, he had the tempo... He had a mask.

Back on it went, his skin warping and the mask merging with his face. Back to the music he moved, falling into the ranks of the dancers as if he were just another enemy choreographer. If he was successful, who knows what opportunity he might have on 'the inside.'

Convert to Attack String-Slayers if the below isn't kosher
Action: Reckless Infiltration (Assault) vs. Dance-Fighters - 1d100+50+5 = 122 or 72 vs archers

Barbed Tongues fucked around with this message at 17:07 on Dec 2, 2017

Mithross
Apr 27, 2011

Intelligent and bright, they explored a world that was new and strange to them. They liked it, they thought - a whole world just for them! They were dimly aware that a God had created them, was watching them; they called out to him, thanking him in a chittering language, before running off.

Name: Patsy
Skill: Baking
Skillcores: Regeneration
HP: 2
Self-Esteem: 0
Glory: 5

Stumbling through the melee, Patsy was shocked to find himself relatively uninjured... and the drum beats no longer pounded his failures deeper and deeper into his head. In fact, the off tempo scattered pounding seemed to be causing almost as much trouble for the enemy as it did for the Unexpectables. And the String Shooters didn't seem to have strings anymore... Patsy turned to where the fighting was worst and the potential for catastrophe was greatest. At this point, he decided, the best way out of bad luck was through it, and if he failed so be it.

Attack the Dancers: 1d100+6 = 36

paper bag with a face
Jun 2, 2007


Skills:Spreading Disease, Cursing [CD]
HP: 2/3
Glory: 13

Grumbus fell into a coughing fit, throat raw from the lambasting he had given the Drum Corps. It seemed to have worked out alright, over the din of battle he could swear he heard a hint of sobbing. Though he admitted that it could also be wishful thinking on his part. Either way, the drummers were severely weakened, so Grumbus decided to turn his attention elsewhere. Like those dancing jerks. Grumbus untied the drawstring on his bag of diseased rats/adored pets and upended it near the dancers.

Let's see them try to dance with The Unexterminable Horde nipping at their heels.

UNLEASH THE RATS on the dancers: 1d100+24 = 93

Astus
Nov 11, 2008


Name: Dack
Skills: Athletics (Used last round), Ą̀͠c̵̢͡͠͏r̴̸̛͝͡o͘͢͜͡b͜à̵̡̕t̷̢̀͜i̸̸͞c͘͟s̀͜͟ (Using)
HP: 1
Glory: 13>14
Doom Clock: Time's Up!

The pain was getting worse, and Dack knew his time was up. In a few moments, he'd either transform or die. He had expected to feel fear or resignation like the others did when their time came, but instead Dack just felt happy than he was finally being useful. Or maybe he was just delirious from the intense burning of his brand combined with the changes already happening inside his body. It didn't really matter to Dack, he had more important things to think about.

Swedish Thaumocracy posted:


"Dack! "You are on the very edge of your ascendancy, use the burn to drive you, make them pay for your pain! I leave who at your discretion, as long as they bleed blue!"

Like validating the Captain's trust in him, for one. With all of his sprinting around, Dack had also managed to close the distance to the enemy archers, who seemed like a perfect target in his eyes. And since there was a chance he could fall over dead any second now, there really wasn't any reason to hold back, was there? Charging along with the other Töans, Dack gracefully flipped over, around, and under the enemy's arrows, before leaping on one of the archers. Holding on to the enemy, Dack swings his own body around, unbalancing the archer and sending him headfirst into the dirt. That's one, still an entire army left to go...

(Regular) Attacking the String Slayers by flipping out: 103

Kyyp
Jan 14, 2007


Name: Doc
HP: 2
Glory: 8
Skill: Surgery (Resonated. +15), Bonegineering

hello im very tired have a roll

Surgically remove the drummer's faces: 1d100+20 = 113

Lux Anima
Apr 17, 2016


Dinosaur Gum
Current Attack Spread Against Agenou's Forces (as of this post):

Total Hordelings accounted for: 27/115

  • Attack The Commander - Difficulty ??? Threat 15 Deadly
    1/1 Warlord, 0 Soldiers
  • Reckless Assault The Commander - [Difficulty ??? Deadly]
    [1]/1 Soldier

  • Attack The Dance-Fighters - Difficulty 50 Threat 30 [Effect - Choreography]
    5/50 Soldiers
  • Reckless Assault The Dance-Fighters - [Difficulty 1+++ Damage 2] [Repeatable]
    [3]/1 Soldiers

  • Finish The War-Drummers - Difficulty 18 Threat 18 [Effect - Off-Tempo Pounding Beat]
    7/18 Soldiers
  • Reckless Assault The War-Drummers - [Difficulty 1+++ Damage 2] [Repeatable]
    [0]/1 Soldiers

  • Attack The String-Slayers - Difficulty 20+++++ Threat 20 Damage 2
    8/20 Soldiers
  • Reckless Assault The String-Slayers - [Difficulty 1+++ Damage 2] [Repeatable]
    [3]/1 Soldiers

  • Fall Back To The Traps - Difficulty 10
    0/10 Soldiers

Lookin' good you guys! :black101::banjo:

Lux Anima
Apr 17, 2016


Dinosaur Gum

Bamboo posted:

Bamboo took a deep breath. She pushed herself off the ground, and knelt on her good knee. Placing one wooden handle of the garrote between her teeth, she bite down hard and grunted as she ripped one, then the other, arrow out of her thigh.

Standing up, she straightened her back despite the shooting pain in her injured leg. The wound didn't matter, not anymore; most likely, the remainder of her life would be measured in mere seconds.

"Yes. I remember."

Pulling the garrote taunt, she launched herself once again at the Archer Commander. Bamboo would 'weave' again, in this life, or the next.

sheep-dodger
Feb 21, 2013



Sucy
HP: 3
Glory: 20 -> 21
Skill: Mushrooms

Traveling, so have a roll
Attack the archers: 1d100+20+1: 95

CourValant
Feb 25, 2016

Do You Remember Love?

:love::love::love:

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.
Go check out the last update! I added really gross art! Hop on over to see guts come out!
edit:

Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 01:59 on Dec 4, 2017

CourValant
Feb 25, 2016

Do You Remember Love?

Dog Kisser posted:

Go check out the last update! I added really gross art! Hop on over to see guts come out!

Ummm . . . anyone feel less secure about sleeping next to wendigoes?

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.

CourValant posted:

Ummm . . . anyone feel less secure about sleeping next to wendigoes?

That's prejudice!

Well, post-judice. Judice. I guess that's not an unreasonable opinion!

CourValant
Feb 25, 2016

Do You Remember Love?

Dog Kisser posted:

That's prejudice!

Well, post-judice. Judice. I guess that's not an unreasonable opinion!

I'm on to you Mister; one night, them brands are just gonna poof and we'll have to face down unleashed monsters.

Good thing Bamboo has that garrote now.

Green Intern
Dec 29, 2008

Loon, Crazy and Laughable

Consider that Grimper is holding the leash on these Wendigos. Let's not abandon him to death by dance-fight.

gowb
Apr 14, 2005


HP: 2/3
Glory: 6 -> 7
Skill: Jousting+15 (on CD), Guarding+10 (being used)


Noggins posted:

"I've got your back, Vist! Let's show them just how HARD we are!"

Though her strength was flagging, Vist heard her friend's warcry and felt her spirits rise. They had overcome much worse than this! Her grip on her lance tightened, and she drew back until she could sense Noggins behind her. With a yell of affirmation, she thrust her lance foward and spit in the face of death, guarding her friend's back as surely as she guarded the fate of her horde.

Attack the Dancers!: 1d100+10+6+1 33

Lux Anima
Apr 17, 2016


Dinosaur Gum

The Lord of Hats posted:

Noggins rode high on the wave of adrenaline, raining powerful, percussive blows down on the drummers, smashing drum and bone alike, enemies driven into the dirty like so many nails into wood.

Yvonmukluk
Oct 10, 2012

Everything is Sinister


Green Intern posted:

Consider that Grimper is holding the leash on these Wendigos. Let's not abandon him to death by dance-fight.

I'm doing my part! (And I suppose I will soon be in parts).

Sax Battler
Jul 31, 2007

Another bloody customs post,
Another fucking foreign coast,
Another set of scars to boast,
We Are The Road Crew.


Name: Gloff
Skills:Lifting+, Swimming, Smithing(using)
HP: 1
Glory: 11

Reeling, Gloff quickly snatches up two pieces of metal, striking them against each other.
Close enogh to smithing, he hoped as he neared the drummers.
Having absolutely no rythm, his beat is terribly off, hopefully throwing them off.

1d100+21=91

Bad Seafood
Dec 10, 2010


If you must blink, do it now.


Name: Gigs
Skills: Unflappability (+15), Triangulation (+10)
HP: 3
Glory: 18

Strategy: Attack the Dance-Fighters

Spurred awake by the influx of violence, groovitude, and fighting spirit, Gigs yawns and stumbles into the fray. Due to his unsettling ability to sleep upright with his eyes open, it seems none of his companions thought to rouse him from his (presumed) observational neutrality. Ah, well.

"Hmm..."

Taking stock of the amateur hour unfolding before him, Gigs - unmoved by the rhythm of the fight - decides to break a leg. Specifically, someone else's (1d100+34 = 122).

Bad Seafood fucked around with this message at 19:58 on Dec 4, 2017

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.


Despite the blood spilled on both sides, the music still rang out across the battlefield, and the Slinker Flag still snapped and fluttered in the breeze. Commander Agenou faced down a battered Grimper, looking almost disappointed. “Hmm, at least your men aren't as shameful a display as you are. Almost a pity to kill the-” It was here that Bully the Orator struck the Commander in the ankle, drawing his attention and rage. “How dare you interrupt, you worm!”

“Now, where was I - ah, yes. Once I defeat you, I'll bring your corpse back to-”
Agenou howled in pain and rage, clutching at his ruined face and blazing with barely controlled power. Grimper brushed his hand off against his thigh, spat out boiling blood to sizzle against the earth, and took a fighting stance. “Enough talking. Let us settle this, one way or another.” Agenou, poise forgotten, launched himself at the Warlord.

(Bully's dead - but his distraction proved enough to allow Grimper to get a solid hit in! Agenou's Aura roll takes a cumulative -25 penalty, making his Aura 66 - 25 = 41!)

---
The Dancers visibly rocked under the assault on Agenou. Their synchronization was too strong, their training too firmly enforced, for them to easily break it - they steadied themselves, but they were shaken and confused. They evidently weren’t used to losing, or to seeing their allies and master rocked by losses and blows. Ha! The Unexpectables had them beat there - they were veritable experts at being beaten and confused! Noggins the Carpenter banged Nailbreaker against her shield and charged the Dancers, who smoothly dropped back into their routine. She swung her hammer - and it bloomed like a metal flower, the pattern on the face of the striking surface spreading out slightly. She was easily as puzzled by it as her opponent, but it didn’t matter; when all you had was a hammer, everything looked like a nail - and Nailbreaker knew exactly what to do with those!
    52d100 = 3211 [OFF-TEMPO POUNDING BEAT subtracts all Odd/<30 rolls from total!] = 3075
    VS
    50d100 = 2497
    [CHOREOGRAPHY BONUS raised all rolls below 66 to 66!] = 3543
    [CHOREOGRAPHY BONUS raised all rolls below 41 to 41!] = 2848
    [OFF-TEMPO POUNDING BEAT interferes, subtracts all Odd/<20 rolls from total!] = 2520
The Dancers broke before the charge, their steps out of synch with their neighbours, spreading disarray through their ranks. Their tactics depended on a unified mass, one body bristling with weapons brought to bear against a rabble. Now that they were rabble themselves, they were easily scattered and brought to ruin! The Drums were no help, as diminished as they were, and their attempts to enforce order merely sowed chaos through their own ranks. The Dancers fell back, cowering behind the bulwarks of Agenou’s armor and the strangely armored figure that fought among them. Pythag the Mathematician slammed them off their feet with his shield and smashed their confused faces into nothingness. He felt a profound empathy for them, and he wasn’t sure how much of it was the mask. It was difficult to keep himself straight. One way or another, those he killed reacted to his blows with puzzled betrayal, and didn’t attempt to defend themselves until it was too late. Were there tears on his face, or just blood?

Ringo the Pick performed his own sort of dance, his lingering wounds forgotten as he dodged and wove amongst the swinging Reedblades. His own weapon wasn’t meant for such small fare - he cast a wary eye at the Wendigos on his team - but it seemed to work well enough against the Dancers. And all along, he whistled and whistled, and they couldn’t touch him, and their frustration made them make mistakes. While they were distracted by his antics, Gryph rushed in with clever hands made brutish and heavy by bandages and reckless force and forced them into the Wendigoad’s spikes. The survivors spread out, giving them a wide berth, and the Unexpectable Horde rushed to fill the gap!

(A resounding victory, my Horde! Despite their musical magic, your forces proved more than a match for them! They drop to 34 Difficulty, and additionally are split into two groups - one at 19 Difficulty, and one at 15 Difficulty! Their morale is wavering, and they look to their Commander for support!)

---
Agenou was apoplectic with rage, but Grimper wouldn’t let up his assault. “Looks like your Dancers aren't quite as well trained as you thought! What a waste of your ever-so-valuable time that must have been! I bet you’re glad you spent time with that instead of just whipping a bunch of vagrants into ‘good enough’ shap-”A savage kick scythed through the air to smash against the Warlord’s injured hand. With a sound like a marble column exploding, the hand was torn from his body and destroyed. Grimper rocked backwards, his eyes rolling momentarily back in his head as flame gouted from the stump. Agenou lowered his foot slowly and wiped his bloodied face. The time for talking was over.

(Well poo poo! Grimper doesn’t have HP in the way that you guys have HP, but if he did he lost some here. The consequences won’t be known just yet, but he’s certainly not getting that hand back. It’s okay, he’ll just drink with the other hand…)

---
The War-Drummers struggled to maintain their composure as the Horde pressed their attacks. The drumming must continue or else all would be lost… but it must pause or else their own lives would be! The drums were weighted and armored, the beaters hard as maces, but there were so many coming for them! Something had to give. Something did.
    21d100 = 1309 [OFF-TEMPO POUNDING BEAT subtracts all Odd/<30 rolls from total!] = 1250
    VS
    18d100 = 813 [OFF-TEMPO POUNDING BEAT subtracts all Odd/<20 rolls from total!] = 762
Doc the Surgeon drove her hungry blade into an unprotected kidney, across a pulsing neck, slit important tendons. The only drumming she heard was the pounding of the hearts of her foes, the pounding of their feet as they fled from her. Even with her world half-dimmed by a bruised iris, she could see them twist ankles as they ran, watch cartilage crunch against bone. Such fine bone, wasted by the flesh encircling it. Soon enough she’d make use of it. Her breathing was altogether heavier than it needed to be, and even her allies glanced askance at her. It didn’t matter - crush the Drummers!

(Drummers are toast! Their Difficulty drops to 8---, and Pounding Beat now affects only rolls below 10 - and enemy rolls below 40! They wish to flee!)

---
No talking, now. Agenou and Grimper circled eachother, though it was clear the Warlord was faring the worse of it. He felt self-doubt and frustration creeping up within him, and not for the first time he regretted being forced into this position. He swallowed it back down, along with the very possible fear that he may be killed or at least severely diminished here. What use would he be then. Agenou raised his leg for a kick, and he braced for the impact - but then the dancers who’d mimicked him slammed their legs back to earth and he reacted. Fool. Damned FOOL he wa-The curled boot struck him like a runaway wagon, smashing the air out of his lungs and cracking his internal anterior plating. He felt Esprit leaking like steam from a kettle and he forced his muscles closed around his organs. This was going very poorly indeed. He vomited a hot gush of bile, skeletonizing a groaning Fröman unfortunate enough to have fallen nearby. Agenou said nothing, only watched him and approached. Grimper cracked his neck and forced himself to his feet.

---
The String-Slayers operated best from a distance, so they kept skipping away from their opponents, forcing them to choose between one group and another and always, always moving. Trinh the Taxidermist continued her rampage, spearing those foolish enough to stay within her range with a knife that seemed comically small next to her massive limbs. Her writhing hair caught arrows sailing towards her and cast them earthwards seemingly of their own volition, and unease as much as fear sent their shots wide. She laughed and wove towards them almost in a daze, and such was their focus on the obvious target that others escaped their notice.
    20d100 = 1568 [OFF-TEMPO POUNDING BEAT subtracts all Odd/<10 rolls from total!] = 1565
    VS
    20d100 = 1197
    [OFF-TEMPO POUNDING BEAT interferes, subtracts all Odd/<40 rolls from total!] = 1144
Bows were split, arrows were broken, and immaculate armor soiled with ichor in a rainbow of colours. The undefeated String-Slayers, the melodic backbone of the Dancers, were riven by a crashing wave of Töan might! Splut the Bluffer walked amongst them, poisoning them with audacious lies that could not possibly be believed and yet crushed their faltering morale and wasted their diminishing stocks of ammunition. Bamboo the Weaver found her way behind one important-looking Slayer and looped the length of wire around her neck doubly. The woman fought and struggled with berserk ferocity, and Bamboo was certain that she would break free… but then she went slack, blood coursing from between her lips and ruined neck. Bamboo unwound her with a flick of the wrist and moved on.

Snödis the Poet watching the happenings with the hint of a smile plain on her face. Everything was going according to plan. She felt so comfortable in her victory that she sat, peacefully as though she was at tea, in the midst of combat. She opened he mouth to taunt the cowards with knife-edged words - but found blood spilling out instead of verses as a trio of arrows sank into neck, shoulder and thigh. She gasped out a bubbling cough and fought to keep her eyes from blurring. In her pocket, the spool of Wire vibrated and rotated of its own volition, tearing itself out to float before her. She blinked at it vacantly, then it-

She wheezed, the sudden shock of cold metal piercing her skin replaced instantaneously by numb nothingness in the affected area. Her wounds bound up, she felt completely fine despite the damage she'd taken. She also felt like something was terribly, terribly wrong!

(Uh oh! Snödis takes 2 Damage! The Cursed Wire activates in response to her injury! It lashes the wounds shut, leaving them numb and insensible but healing the damage. Unfortunately, the loss of sensation slows her reflexes, permanently lowering her roll by 3 for each HP of damage suffered. There also doesn't seem to be a way to... turn it off. Anyhow, you stomped the String-Slayers! Their Difficulty decreases to 9--, and they are on the verge of fleeing combat - towards the traps, for what it’s worth!)
---
Dack the Athlete was pouncing among the String-Slayers when he saw Snödis fall and felt a jolt of pain rocket through him that took him off his feet. It was happening to him too, and the stress and bloodlust of combat was making it worse. He felt hot and cold and swept his tongue across his lower eyes to clear them of sweat. His muscles felt too tight, like his entire body was flexing, and all he wanted to do was jump!
    Dack’s Fate = 1d10 = 5
    Wendigo Conversion Initiating
His armor suddenly felt tight, so he ripped at it with heavy claws until he could breath again. Standing upright was difficult, so he dropped to all fours on elongated forearms and felt significantly better. A short, muscular tail protruded from the base of his spine, and he felt powerful and fast. His tongue, significantly longer and now forked at the base, lashed through jagged, grinding teeth. He felt fast. He felt strong. He could break these things, easily. He could break them, and they couldn’t catch him if they wanted to. Couldn’t escape him if they wanted to. He roared, or laughed, unleashing a strangled cry that chilled the bones.


(Dack has become a Branded Wendigo. His Athletics Skillcore is corrupted, joining A̢̢͢͢c̶̨̢͘͞r̵̡̨̢ǫ͠b̛͏͡a̷̵̸t̷̷̡i̴͝͏̡ç̶̀͞ş̕͟. His base roll becomes 1d500. In addition, A̵̕t̷͢͡͏̡h̷͟͡͏ļ̵̶̧̀ę̷̢͡t̨̧͘i̵̕҉̴͡c̢͘͜͠s͏̨́̕ becomes +50 - but if he rolls a 1 while using it (or A̢̢͢͢c̶̨̢͘͞r̵̡̨̢ǫ͠b̛͏͡a̷̵̸t̷̷̡i̴͝͏̡ç̶̀͞ş̕͟), he either attacks his allies or dies instantaneously. It goes without saying that his use in social situations is also extremely curtailed!)

---
Agenou broke off from his highly disappointing conflict with Grimper the Breaker - more like Grimper the Broken! - and assessed his forces. He scanned the melee for the tags he’d associated with his warriors and grew increasingly dismayed to see that things were going rather a lot worse than he’d thought. He’d been toying with Grimper for so long that he hadn’t noticed his own men being savaged by those… Wendigos. They’d have to be eliminated, but he couldn’t deny there was skill to be found among the Warlord’s rabble, and bravery besides. Perhaps he’d spare some of them. Re-educate them, explain what was really happening in this war. But first, a lesson.

“Dancers! Follow my footsteps and return to the dance. Things are not yet so dire as all that, are they?” He danced a few questioning steps, and many of those fleeing paused. Another round of footwork, and the music perked up. Soon, those running away were running back, taking up their position in the choreography! Most of them. Those who kept running would have to be dealt with. Later.

Grimper was wracked with pain and shame, but he saw his men watching and drew himself back up. Though his split and bruised flesh arced and sparked with tiny flares of plasma and blood, and though his crown was askance, and though his missing hand stood out like a painful reminder, he still loomed large in their minds. “Unexpectables! Finish this.”
  • Hold Agenou Back - Difficulty 1d5000 Threat 20 Damage 2
    “Agenou will act to protect his men! Keep him on the back foot until we can break him!”
  • Finish The Dance-Fighters - Difficulty 19 Threat 19 [Effect - Choreography]
    “Don’t let the Dance-Fighters form up! Keep them seperate and crush them!”
  • Finish The Dance-Fighters - Difficulty 15 Threat 15 [Effect - Choreography]
    “They’re weak! Get them out of the way!”
  • Squash The War-Drummers - Difficulty 8--- Threat 4 [Effect - Off-Tempo Gentle Beat]
    “The Drummers are so scattered they may be doing more harm to their cause than good! Even so, they need to be killed eventually!
  • Squash The String-Slayers - 9-- Threat 9 Damage 2
    “They’re still a pain in the rear end, and I certainly don’t need arrows in my back. Kill them!”
  • Reckless Assault - [Difficulty 1+++ Damage 2] [Repeatable]
    “You better have a drat good plan if you’re going off on your own right now!”
  • Attack Agenou With Grimper - Difficulty 1d5000 Threat 10 Deadly
    “Support me! Form up and let’s cut him down to size!”
  • Force Cowards Into The Traps - Difficulty 5
    “See those deserters? If we don’t stomp them out now we’ll have to worry about them later. Then again, maybe we should ensure we get a later first!”
(This is it, ladies and gents! Well, unless Agenou survives, in which case we have bigger problems! Both Agenou slots NEED to be addressed - due to Grimper’s many (many) failures, he has the momentum necessary to launch a pre-emptive attack. Good luck!)

Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 22:12 on Dec 5, 2017

Mithross
Apr 27, 2011

Intelligent and bright, they explored a world that was new and strange to them. They liked it, they thought - a whole world just for them! They were dimly aware that a God had created them, was watching them; they called out to him, thanking him in a chittering language, before running off.

Name: Patsy
Skill: Baking
Skillcores: Regeneration
HP: 2
Self-Esteem: 0
Glory: 6

Patsy once again survived a melee, despite his relative inexperience (ok, complete inexperience) and his rather poor showing. The horde had his back at every turn, it seemed. But now Grimper was suffering from the same luck. If the Unexpectables had Patsy's back, it was only right that he follow that tradition and get Grimper's back. At the very least, he could buy the Warlord time...

Hold back Agenou: 1d100+7 = 33

Mithross fucked around with this message at 23:57 on Dec 5, 2017

Successful Businessmanga
Mar 28, 2010


Gado!!!
Skill: Digging (+20, Used this turn), Mining (+10 available next turn)
HP: 2/2
Glory: 5->6

Continuing his mad scramble underneath the earth, Gado moves on from puncturing drums and their drummers, Gado burrows his way over to the larger of the two groups of dance fighters and begins to pop out from the earth, taking vicious swipes at their ankles as the stumble between dance steps

Attacking the Difficulty 19 Dance Fighters- 83

Swedish Thaumocracy
Jul 11, 2006

Strength of >800 Men
Honor of 0
Grimey Drawer

Extra Skillcore: Sitting Quietly
HP: 1/3 actually 3!
Glory: 20-21
Ignomity: -6
Ritual Glory: 9


Lying motionless in a pool of her own lingonberries, Snödis squints three out of four eyes in annoyance at Agenou antics, whilst still clutching to her miracolously cured neck-wound with one hand.

"From the tips of your no-stache
to the glam of your rude flash,
ain't no move we can out-smash
you brash pompous slink-rash!"

Disapproving Poetry to diss Agenou: 1d100+20+15 = 115 - 6 = 109

"lets see how you handle clashing
with a herd of friendingoes, crashing
right into your body, thrashing;
with bonesaw and claw and more."

Orders: ATTACK THE WARLORD!

Swedish Thaumocracy fucked around with this message at 16:20 on Dec 6, 2017

Bee Bonk
Feb 19, 2011


Skill 2: Amputation
HP: 1/1
Glory 17
Ritual Glory 1

Qwäg isn't particularly patriotic. Enlisting with a non-combat administrative unit to escape an unsatisfying home life, only for a clerical error to thrust her into a loser's vanguard isn't something to foster trust in one's nation. Her transformation didn't change that.

Qwäg, however, is possessive. Seeing how everything could fall apart only made the nervous, retiring Töan that she was hold on all the tighter to what she could. Classmates could take away her painstakingly labeled notebooks. Ambitious nepötists could take away her positions in the Actuariad. Her own mother could take away her fiancé. But seeing Grimper brutalized, and Her Horde subjected to Frömen cruelty merely solidified one thing in her eerily-faceted mind.

No one was going to take away H̴̶̵̝̞̗̗͔̞͇͢É͇̟̻̯̫̞̯̯̪̯̜͞R̯̱̠̲̣̙͔̩͔͓̳̠̗͍̣̬͝͝͞ ҉̧̢͙̰̤ͅH̴͔͇̖͔̤̼͡O͏͏̶̪̯̻̞̬͝R̴̢̫̝̰̜͚̺̫̝͖ͅD̶̵̶̗̼͇̕͜É̷̬̪͎̙̰̝̮̰͇̳̼͓̳͍̹̖̩̩͘͟͜ͅ.̷͏̢̢̣͔͉̞ .



Her eyes focus in concert on Agenou, her cores marking up the enemy Commander in her vision like a butcher's diagram. Her writhing right arm stills, handle of her bōnsaw groaning and creaking in the force of her grasp like an old house in a storm.

She couldn't change most of the things that had gone wrong in her life.

But this guy?

gently caress this guy in particular.


Attack Agenou With Grimper: 1d500+78 577

vorebane
Feb 2, 2009

"I like Ur and Kavodel and Enki being nice to people for some reason."

Wrong Voter amongst wrong voters
Name: Cause
Skills: archeology
HP: 3
Glory: 3 -> 4

Riding the high of a victory he had marginally contributed to, Cause had seized upon the drumsticks of fallen drummers and was enthusiastically if somewhat regretfully poking them in eyes.

Getting an actual weapon would be nice, but Cause set his odds of safely disarming some mook of a dancefighter or archer at approximately between 'effective method of suicide' and 'squirrel vs bear.'

Attacking the drummers: http://orokos.com/roll/574284 1d100+3 = 50

AJ_Impy
Jun 17, 2007

SWORD OF SMATTAS. CAN YOU NOT HEAR A WORLD CRY OUT FOR JUSTICE? WHEN WILL YOU DELIVER IT?
Yam Slacker

HP:3
Glory:24
Lying
Ritual Glory:1

He watched the broken archers scatter for a moment, before turning his attention to to battle of Warlord against Commander. It was not going well, any fool could see that Grimper was getting the worst of it, that was, unless someone told them what they were seeing. Poor Bully had died bravely, so in his memory it was time for some stirring oratorical lies. He held his blade aloft, stood atop a handy pile of slayed stringers, and roared,

"Unbreakable Horde, to me! Look upon our enemy! Look at that ruin of a face, Grimper did that, tore his moustache clean off and with it his pride! He's faltering, he's feeble, he's not even really dancing any more! Now is the time! Now is the moment! Everyone, with the Warlord, let's bring this chump down for good! For the Queen! For Tö! FOR GRIMPER!"

On that, he led the charge, his every movement a comforting lie exuding confidence and the surety that the mooks of the Horde were with him.

Attacking Agenou with Grimper, using stirring lies to rally the horde to the attack: 85

Theantero
Nov 6, 2011

...We danced the Mamushka while Nero fiddled, we danced the Mamushka at Waterloo. We danced the Mamushka for Jack the Ripper, and now, Fester Addams, this Mamushka is for you....


Name: Stårn
Additional skills: Butterfly Beastmaster
HP: 3
Glory: 24 -> 25

"SUPPRESSING FIRRRREEEEE!!", Stårn roared as he furiously fed rocks, bent nails and bits of battle rubble into his trusty Portapult and let loose towards the enemy Warlord. He did not expect to hurt him, not really. Not with the SUBPAR Sieging Munitions he had been supplied with. However, that was not really the intent. Let Grimper and the heavy Wendigo Shocktroopers do the actual hurting.

All Stårn wanted to achieve was to distract him by constantly pelting him with assorted crap, hopefully cramping his style just enough.


Holding back Agenou with SUPPRESSING FIRE from my Siege Weapons (using Portapult): 1d100+34=90

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Slaan
Mar 16, 2009



ASHERAH DEMANDS I FEAST, I VOTE FOR A FEAST OF FLESH


Extra Skills: Spinning (used this turn)
HP: 2/3
Glory: 1 > 2

If there is one thing Gränï had learned in all her years, it was how to give a young'un a good hidin'. And this Angenou fellow was quite the young delinquent, believe-you-her! Now, Gränï preferred a nice switch herself, but she'd make do with her rolling pin. This whippersnapper was large enough to take the beatin' anyhows!

Gränï huffed and puffed and spun her arms up for her first whacks on that bad boy's upside!


Tannin' his hide! (Kill)1d100+1+1: 30 [1d100=28]

+10, I forgot to add the skill

40



Her old arms just weren't what they used to be

Slaan fucked around with this message at 23:24 on Dec 4, 2017

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