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       Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Precision HP: 3 Glory: 26->27->28 (+1 Glory for facing Agenou) Ritual Glory: 3 Noggins stood on the battlefield, breathing heavily with exertion. That last blast from Agenou had really knocked the wind out of her, and everyone else for that matter. It had been hard, and messy, and some people had come out worse for the wear... or not at all, in the cases of Harlee and Bully and... where was Cornbread? Had he fallen too? Must have... but once again, the Horde had pulled through. They'd faced an army--an actual, real, army, a Warlord's personal forces--and they'd come out the other side victorious. She grinned, despite herself. War and bloodshed were far from desirable, she knew--she wasn't Tharbad, after all--but she had to admit, the thrill of a hard-fought victory was unlike anything she'd ever known as a civilian. Successful Businessmanga posted:Having made up his mind about seeking out the Wendigo mutation, Gado has a few errands to run before resigning himself to his fate. The first person he approaches in Noggins "Howdy." Gado grabs at the scarf wrapped around his neck, his fingers rubbing across the luxuriously soft material to ease his discomfort "Uh... Things got kind of dangerous today but you kept a level head and I wanted to let you know I appreciate you keeping folks from harm's way." Gado pulls a small satchel from his waist, the jingle of metal on metal as coins and rings clatter against each other singing out from inside "Figure I'd just show some appreciation for your good work. I wanted to let you know you’'ve inspired me to be better for the horde." With a somewhat forced smile and a wave Gado moves onto his next task. The gold would have been nice to hold onto, but it wasn’'t like he'’d be able to use it if things went according to plan. Noggins' eyes widened at the unexpected gift, and she smiled... but that smile soon faded as Gado spoke. His choice of words, the way he was holding his hand... did he glance at Snödis just now? It was clear what he was thinking of. Pocketing the coins, she sighed. "Look, Gado..." she started "I'm not going to stop you. You know what you're getting into, and it's your choice to make. But... well, will you humor me a moment, listen to a story? There was a... well, there was a carpenter. And someone she cared about very much had put themselves in a bad situation, and... money was needed to get out of it. A lot of money. Now, she was a successful carpenter--she was very good at what she did. Maybe too good. It would have taken a long time, and a lot of hard work, but she would have been able to earn what she needed to. But... she had another idea. To earn it all in one go, you see, with an idea she'd been working on. So she rushed the project, trying to push it out quickly so that she could get her f..riend, her friend, out of trouble. And she got the money, too. But it turns out that the project wasn't ready, and she hadn't done her best work, and she'd cut too many corners, and she got herself into even worse trouble." She smiled ruefully. "Not very subtle, is it? The point is, Gado, there are no shortcuts. There's only ever the long way. And I know being badly injured sucks... believe me, I know. But it can be worked around. But at the end of the day, it's your decision to make. One way or another, I hope it works out."
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Dec 7, 2017 00:07
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  Skills: Cross Stitching (using), Spinning (cooldown) HP: 2/3 Glory: 2 > 3 >4 (attacking Aggy) With the warlord well smacked for being such a naughty boy, it was time to take care of her little grandbabies' booboos. She took up her stiching needles and closed up their wounds, kissing them on top when finished to make it better. "Gränï is going to make things better. Don't worry little grandbaby. You'll be up and playing in no time. I hear Uncle Patsy might be making cookies later!" Medicine: 1d100+14: 15 [1d100=1] Well. Kissing cut off limbs doesn't seem to help much. Reroll from ritual 1d100+14: 113 [1d100=99] Luckily, hugging poor hurting grandkids does! --------- With the wounded taken care of Gränï headed over to the coprse of Agenou. She was in need of a new hat as her old hat had blown off on the way to the conscription rendezvous. It just wasn't right for any Proper Lady to have her head uncovered in such a manner! What were her gals think of her if they saw her? For shame! Luckily, Agenou's curved shoes were the perfect color to bring out her eyes and would match wonderfully with the red and gold threads she had been carrying around. She was going to use her sewing skills to transform one of the shoes into a wide brimmed hat, use the remaining fabric to make flower to sew onto it, and then embroider some roses around the top. She would look absolutely marvelous, wouldn't she? All those old grumblers at the parlor would be asking her to dance in no time. Boots to Pretty Hat +1 1d100: 57 [1d100=57] Slaan fucked around with this message at 01:48 on Dec 7, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 00:09
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   Gado!!! Skill: Digging (+20), Mining (+10 Used) HP: Glory: 2 The Lord of Hats posted:
Gado goes to reply, but his voice cracks between his nerves and the difficult of drawing shallow breaths through his mask. Composing himself he gives a small nod "I appreciate the concern." Noticing the attention Noggins' had given his hands, he tucks them away at his sides and continues on "I'm not taking this particularly lightly if it seems like I am. The Horde needs the help and it's not like I'll be left dangling in the wind once we win this war. My Mother has the quarry back home that I can help out with and I imagine once she gets over the shock having an industrial strength digger around will be pretty helpful." Gado's injured fingers twitch at his side as he goes silent for a while, contemplating if he should even bother explaining himself, it's not like Noggins' was going out of her way to stop him. He repeats himself for emphasis "I'm not taking this lightly. I know that my core, the Core of my whole life is going to become dangerous, so I won't use it ever again if things go as planned. I wouldn't risk going crazy and hurting the people who I've come to rely on and who've come to rely on me." Giving another little shrug he simply says "Thanks again for all the effort you put in for us. Be seeing you around I hope."
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Dec 7, 2017 01:10
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  HP: 2/3 Glory: 8 -> 10 Skill: Jousting+15 (being used), Guarding+10 (being used) Vist heaved away from her companions and dropped to her knees, her bloodied lance falling to the ground as she noisily emptied her stomach. She thought she had gotten past this, but that battle had been brutal, utterly surpassing even the fight in the darkness under Nagel. For as HARD as she thought herself, she was still new to true combat, the clash of steel and bone. It didn't help that she had admired the enemy commander - he was HUGE and handsome, and she felt more than a little sad that he had been born red. Her grandmother's voice echoed in her ears. If wishes were horses, we would all joust. She steeled herself, rose shakily to her feet with the aid of her lance, and limped over to Noggins, to make sure her friend was okay. The wound in her side made her wince. Her first injury, it stung with the fierceness of Hob's bees, but it wasn't as bad as she had thought - she'd had worse pains from being knocked to the ground by an errant lance. Vist hailed her friend and slapped her on the shoulder, both Tö grinning wide. They had made it through their first major encounter with their true enemy. It wouldn't be their last, but they had been forged in fire now! Successful Businessmanga posted:Having made up his mind about seeking out the Wendigo mutation, Gado has a few errands to run before resigning himself to his fate. The first person he approaches in Noggins "Howdy." Gado grabs at the scarf wrapped around his neck, his fingers rubbing across the luxuriously soft material to ease his discomfort "Uh... Things got kind of dangerous today but you kept a level head and I wanted to let you know I appreciate you keeping folks from harm's way." Gado pulls a small satchel from his waist, the jingle of metal on metal as coins and rings clatter against each other singing out from inside "Figure I'd just show some appreciation for your good work. I wanted to let you know you’ve inspired me to be better for the horde." With a somewhat forced smile and a wave Gado moves onto his next task. The gold would have been nice to hold onto, but it wasn’t like he’d be able to use it if things went according to plan. Vist nodded appreciation at the digger - her friend was one of their finest, after all. She embodied several of the Virtues very seriously, and from their late night talks seemed open to the religion. This openness surprised Vist - she was more used to the locals disdain and the general pagan attitude of her country. In turn, she was fiercely devoted to Noggins now, and knew her friend felt the same way. So when the carpenter picked up on something unsaid, Vist was surprised and then suspicious. Had she heard right? "Ye be planning on becomin' a wendigo!" she snapped in accusation, after Noggins had finished her story. Her hand rose from her friend's shoulder and she pointed at Gado. "That's fuckin' madness, and ye know it. Snödis might buy intae that doolally liberation theology, and tha Long knows she be more charitable than most with tha poor bast'ids - but puttin' our friends tae work their sorry states issa FAR cry from PURPOSELY infectin' yeself! Ye've multiplied our risk, not made us stronger!" Her eyes grew icy SLICK and HARD. "Ye should think about wha Noggins be sayin'. She might nae try to stop you, but I WILL. For ye own safety and the safety o' our horde." Without waiting for his reply, Vist stalked away from the madman in a fury. Loosing another wendigo when they already had four! How could he possibly be that stupid? What sort of madness had come over Gado, that he would consider living his life as a mutated abomination, shunned from society and exiled to the fringes of the civilized world? She wouldn't kill one of her countrytö, but she could and would subdue him if he tried anything so suicidal. She hoped he would come to his senses before things went that far. Bringing her rage to a low simmer, she began to traverse the battlefield, inspecting the pieces of armor left behind by the fearsome Agenou. He had been mighty, but his HUGENESS had diminished greatly when he abandoned his armor. Maybe he would have lived longer had he kept it donned. It was of incredible workmanship despite his casual tossing it around, and although much too big for her, Vist was optimistic that something could be salvaged from the pieces. Perhaps it could simply be cut down to its original shape? She stood sentinel over the helm as she surveyed the other remnants of the suit, using her knowledge of jousting and the Impact to locate seams that could be shorn, plates that could be salvaged, hinges that could be cut to fit. It was a big project. She needed help, and she knew who to go to. Noggins had crafting knowledge beyond her own - woodworking was certainly different from metal, but she kept up her own armor remarkably well so maybe she could help. Even if not, her friend's Precision skillcore would help find some way to pare the armor down to size. Hat could assist with the helmet - a helm was a sort of hat, right? The quiet Fröman, Somno, knew something of Bigness - it wasn't quite HUGENESS but knowledge of size would be very helpful with a set of armor this large. And lastly, but most importantly, she would need Gloff's help with the metallurgy. She truly liked the stout smith, and grieved with him in the loss of Bully: she knew how she would feel if Noggins had suddenly been taken from her. It would hurt far more than the wound in her side. She approached each of the Tö she needed for the job, promising each what meager glory she could afford for their help. And the armor was massive, perhaps there was enough for a set for all of them? Vist will prevent Gado from turning wendigo, if she can do so without killing him. Also, asking for help from Noggins, Hat, Somno, and Gloff to make some HUGE armor out of Agenou's old set! There should be enough for everyone, but Vist wants the helm to herself. Assuming Noggins is fine keeping her own armor, that should be 1 HUGE ARMOR SET (with helmet) and 3 regular sets. Guys, I can hook you up with 2 Glory each for this favor! For her own, Vist is using Guarding to guard and secure the loot, and then her knowledge of Jousting to trim the armor down to size while retaining its ability to take a hit in a tilt. Looting HUGE armor!: 1d100+10 103 Making HUGE armor!: 1d100+15+8 89 I think that's it, I'll post again when the loot table is dropped! Edit: unless this counts as looting?? Edit 2: gabber is definitely welcome to help! But the helm is MINE!  Edit 3: Okay, I made my first roll the loot roll and the second one the creation roll. I guess this is how it works. I am bad at downtime please send help. gowb fucked around with this message at 03:44 on Dec 15, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 01:10
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   Name: Gabber Skill: Mimicry, Listening+, Night Vision HP: 2/3 Glory: 9 -> 11 (1+ bonus 1 for holding off Agenou) Three times. As he lay there in a daze, wind knocked out of him, the only thing Gabber could think of was how many times he had fully flipped in midair while blasted back by Agenou. Three times. As the battle raged on and slowly made it's way away from him, he looked downwards towards the rest of his body. All in one piece. He'd actually faced an enemy Commander and survived. He even stabbed him once, right above the ankle! A story his grandkids would surely quickly grow tired of, if he was lucky enough to survive this war and actually have kids, who then had kids. Groaning and slowly getting to his feet, he readied himself to join the ongoing assault against Grimper. However by the time he had steadied himself the deed had been done, and Grimper, their Warlord Grimper, had melted Agenou's face off. Gabber gave a quick fist pump. There had been deaths, and there would be many more battles before they were done, but for now they had victory. Scanning the rest of the Horde, he took account of who appeared to have survived, and who was among the missing. As he did so, his eye caught a slight glow off to one side of the battle. Was that...Agenou's helmet? The Commander's armor had been flung all about the battle field at the start, and he'd never gathered it back up. Gabber knew that soon the looting, the glorious looting, would occur. Most would beeline for Skillcores, but he had no more room for any - he was after something more material. Beelining for the ginormous helmet, Gabber prepared to throw his arms about the far too large for him helmet. If he could claim it, maybe Magda could chop it up and turn it into some sort of battle mask for him? His head still throbbed from his injury in Nagel. Any extra protection for his head would be grand! Edit: ffs, beaten, by post and by roll. Blargh. See my next post for my new action. Task Manager fucked around with this message at 07:24 on Dec 7, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 01:19
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Oh dear, Grimper is going to be even more of a tyrant to deal with his own incompetence.
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Dec 7, 2017 01:30
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vorebane posted:Oh dear, Grimper is going to be even more of a tyrant to deal with his own incompetence. I dunno, we really gave him a hand. He has to hand it to us, we did a great job saving him. We showed him that we're extremely handy to have around. He owes us hand over fist for this. He could promote one of us to be his strong right hand!
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Dec 7, 2017 01:44
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Ok, but don't do posts like that in game, I don't want to find out how Grimper feels about puns at his expense.
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Dec 7, 2017 02:06
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     Name: Portha Skills: Rummaging (in use), Cleaning (in use), Imagining HP: 2/3 Glory: Portha felt stronger after helping fight Agenou, but with the battle largely over it was time to see what treasures the dead were carrying. There was also the matter of that vault she'd been hearing about. It might be handy to have a few enemy soldiers to serve as test subjects, so if any were still alive but knocked out it'd be simple enough to haul them back to camp. Even if there weren't any, the broken gear on the corpses could probably be melted down to forge new gear or torn apart to use as patching material when it couldn't. A lot of the gear had been rendered into broken garbage from the fighting, but one of the Slingers' bows still looked kind of useful. Portha decided to grab it since it was better than a terrible stick. If anything, she deserved to take a bow after killing a Warlord; she chuckled to herself at the thought of that pun. Loot a bow 1d100=66 Also claiming a quiver to go with it and spending 4 glory to trade in the Fröman Cuirass for some slinger armor. On the way back to camp, Portha spotted a group of mooks looking at a Töan corpse. ...Cornbread, the most disgusting guy in the camp. Someone had done her dirty work for her. At first Portha was content to leave well enough alone but then her cleaning skillcore started going berserk. That disgusting core of his was still inside the corpse. If she hadn't maxed out her core space with the imagining core she might have taken the filthy thing and tried to use it to better help weaponize the garbage she'd been scavenging and throwing around the last couple battles, if the literal meaning of the core hadn't been far too disgusting. No, there was only one thing she could do to make the world clean again, destroy the core. She grabbed her old pointy stick and screamed as she plunged it through Cornbread's corpse. Skillcore roll (kind of) 1d100+10=44 Her search for unconscious Frömen had proved futile as all the enemy horde who hadn't run away were definitely dead. Dejected, Portha went back to camp to see about getting some better armor and wait in line at the medical tent before going back out to the woods to search for any survivors who might have gone into hiding after the battle. That night, while Portha was looking under rocks and fallen logs to see if anyone was hiding there, she saw a figure sneaking through the woods. When she called out and they bolted, Portha assumed it was one of the Frömen trying to escape and decided to aim for the leg. If she hit the mark, whoever it was would be volunteering to test the Old Guys' machine. Encountering and trying to catch Flitter while trying to search for enemy soldiers. 1d100+22=82 super sweet best pal fucked around with this message at 13:22 on Dec 11, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 02:17
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Flitter Flitter couldn't do it. The war. The fighting. The wendigos. She just... she didn't have it in her. Grimper would kill her if he ever caught her running off, so she waited until the middle of the night. She left her sword and armor; someone else could use that. She wanted to bring flutter, too, the beautfiul butterfly, but... If she got caught, Grimper wouldn't think twice about smushing them both, so instead, she left it with the horde. She was sure noggins or someone would take good care of it. And then, under the cover of night... She snuck away.
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Dec 7, 2017 02:21
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   Name: Trinh Skills: taxidermy(+50, corrupted), jumping HP: 1+1/1 Glory: 7 -> 8 Ritual Glory: 1 Agenou's hollow eye sockets stared at Trinh. She raised her hand. Even now the cooked skull was radiating enough heat to be painful to approach. She scraped the exposed... bone? The color reminded her of the olivite vault beneath the mountain. A connection? She shrugged. Probably state secrets, better to not speak up about it. Still, she wasn't going to pass up a chance to desecrate a dead warlord. The skull had certainly captured her imagination, she really wanted to take it with her. No, too large. But maybe a finger, or a rib, or, or... Lost in a haze she took out her knife and started wildy swinging, tracing out cuts in the air despite several hordelings being right in front of her. Just cut the tendons there and... She slowed down. No, her heart wasn't in it. Something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong. She stared at the knife, held precariously between two nightmarish claws. Too small. ... That's right. It wasn't the tool for such an immense job. But maybe... Trinh brushed the tattered remains of hair sticking from Agenou's head. Someone so concerned with appearences wouldn't leave his shaving to someone else. Haha, yes! She flicked the tiny knife over her shoulder and madly leaped at Agenou's pockets. Looting Agenou, hopefully taking his RAZOR: 1d100 63 Only doing looting now. I'll add other stuff later. Jvie fucked around with this message at 16:11 on Dec 8, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 02:56
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gowb posted:Edit 2: gabber is definitely welcome to help! But the helm is MINE!  All's fair in looting and scavenging! It also works out well character development wise for Gabber to yet again be bested by Vist. I like their slightly at odds relationship!*Loot ONE free Skillcore (didn't used to be free, but now is) *Take ONE action, which can be: healing, cooking, looting, or something else (write-in). Now, I very well could be wrong (maybe DK can clarify, or someone can ask on Discord? It's kind of all over the place with people's rolls - some people are looting and taking an action, some just looting, some taking actions and not looting, with glory sometimes being added and sometimes not?), but therefore I think your roll to claim the armor and craft it into something useable would just be a straight loot roll (1d100), similar to how I was trying to claim the helmet and have Magda make something useful out of it. Then you can ask others to give you their downtime roll as outlined to try and make it even better (Similar to how Starn got his bad rear end battering ram). Even without your added glory, Vist's roll still trounces Gabber's, so I'll be posting shortly on how he decides to go for easier loot. Edit: Don't listen to me - see Prince of Space's post below for an accurate breakdown! Task Manager fucked around with this message at 17:52 on Dec 7, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 02:59
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Name: Gabber Skill: Mimicry, Listening+, Night Vision HP: 2/3 Glory: 9 -> 11 (1+ bonus 1 for holding off Agenou) quote:Beelining for the ginormous helmet, Gabber prepared to throw his arms about the far too large for him helmet. If he could claim it, maybe Magda could chop it up and turn it into some sort of battle mask for him? His head still throbbed from his injury in Nagel. Any extra protection for his head would be grand! Before he got halfway there he skidded to a halt. Vist. The youster had beaten him to the juiciest bit of the haul, the helmet. Turning on a dime, Gabber quickly began moving in the opposite direction. He knew better than to get into it right now with Vist, especially since he was hoping she wouldn't end up mentioning their little issue earlier in the day. As much as he wanted that helmet, it wasn't worth it right now. Maybe after this had all cooled down he could have a word; er, a conversation, and try to clear the air. Not now. He still needed to try and grab something though. He wasn't interested in his repeat of coming up empty handed like he had in Fostis. How embarrassing. Taking a second look around, he was confident he could find something among the wreckage - plenty of people had lost their lives today, and loot was abundant. Making his way amongst the downed, Gabber kept his eyes open for anything intriguing. It seemed several of the fallen army wore face coverings: hankerchiefs, bandanas, or other masks befitting their dual roles as soldiers and performers. Maybe he could find something that covered the lower half of his face and offered some minimal amount of protection? Loot a lower half face covering: 1d100 16  Even worse. Hopefully you are feeling generous with the loot, DK!
Task Manager fucked around with this message at 17:53 on Dec 7, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 03:31
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Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Precision HP: 3 Glory: 27->28 Ritual Glory: 3 After Vist's outburst, Noggins watched her and Gado head off in different directions. She certainly agreed with Vist--sure, wendigoes were strong, but recognizing that was a far cry from wanting to be one. She wanted to protect the Horde just as much as Gado, but the idea of purposefully infecting herself? That was just... wrong. Already the symptoms seemed terrible enough, and hadn't Grimper said something about Madmist? What would that do to a wendigo? No. It was just unthinkable. But what could be done? It wasn't like they could tie Gado down until he gave up on the idea. They just had to hope that he'd rethink it. Or that Zapanda would manage to produce a cure. Shaking her head, Noggins walked off after her friend, discussing Vist's plan to craft armor. Metal really wasn't within Noggins' wheelhouse, but surely there had to be some way she could help. When Vist mentioned Hat, Noggins' ears perked up. Hm... hadn't she mentioned one time that if you wanted to make a really good hat, you used a wooden form to work from, to shape the actual hat around? Sure, armor wasn't the same thing as millinery, but the same principle seemed like it would apply. Build a wooden form, hammer the metal around it. That sounded pretty doable! Holding up a thumb for comparison, Noggins took an estimate of Vist's proportions... yeah... this could work! Help With Armorsmithing: 1d100+10+27 55 ((...or I could roll an 18, that could also happen)) Later, as she put the finishing touches on the forms (which weren't perfect, but they were something, at least), Noggins contemplated what Gado had told her, and what Snödis had said to her back at Nägel. If she was going to form a squad, she wanted it to have a purpose. A real meaning. The Neötype Squadron made sense... they were bound by their common affliction, and would know how best to support one another, especially with Snödis leading them. But what would she offer as a leader? What kind of example... Hm. The wendigoes had made quite an impression during the battle. A vicious impression, but an impression. Obviously that wasn't all that Gado had based his decision on, but it probably did have something to do with some of the murmurs she'd heard around the Horde. Wendigoes were strong, yes, but that came at a price. And infection was not... was emphatically not the only path to strength. Hadn't they just seen what warlords were capable of? But that kind of power felt out of reach, and distant. No, the Horde needed people to inspire them, to be a shining example among their ranks. And there was a word for people who did that... Later still, when she approached Grimper with a handful of hand-carved badges, Noggins had a clear mental image in mind of what she wanted to accomplish. "Sir, you approved the Neötype Squadron, and they've shown how effective they can be. But I want a chance to show that that's not the other way forward. I know we're not remotely worthy of the actual title, and I don't really know if Warlords can grant it anyways, but... I want to form a... well... an order of knights. Or as close as the Horde can get to knights. My friends in the Horde are made of stronger stuff than they know. I want a chance to show them what they can be." I tried drawing the badges several times, but I couldn't settle on something I liked! I'm lazily trusting this to you, DK/anyone who wants to try The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 03:49 on Dec 7, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 03:47
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 Name: Börk Skills: Kissing (available), Listening (available) HP: 3 Glory: 6 +1 -> 8 Holy moley it worked! They'd held back Agenou and Grimper had finished him off in fine style! The old warlord was missing a hand, though... He looked around at the destruction. And after a battle invariably came the looting. Grabbing a String-Slinger seemed like a good idea - the horde did seem terribly short of ranged weapons. He noticed one of his hordemates had already had the same idea. Then there was tending to the wounded. The old granny who rolled with the horde was doing a fine job. Or was she doing something with Agenou's boots? Börk's eyesight wasn't the best. The granny's companionship surprised him - what was an old lady doing fighting in a war? - but with a glance at the Slink flag flapping in the stiff breeze, he reminded himself that they were the Unexpectables, and he should unexpect the unexpected. Speaking of which, he saw a quiet Tö slipping away. Desertion before or during a battle was understandable, as was after a defeat... But after a victory? Börk briefly considered looting what she left behind... But figured the other butterfly guy could probably make better use of it. And what about Grimper's hand? Börk remembered Agenou casting down some complex gauntlets. Had Börk seen some of the horde tinkering with one of them? With both of them? Had Agenou even had two? Or was it one? In the fray of battle, he couldn't be sure. Probably best to leave that to Grimper to figure out getting a new hand, from Agenou's gauntlet or not, for himself; although the fleeting thought of being the one giving Grimper a new hand, the hand of his enemy no less, and the obvious warmth the act would be met and rewarded with did tempt him briefly. Yes, there was a lot on Börk's mind, but soon he would decide what to do. In the end, he resolved to nab a String Slinger, head back down to the elderly grandmother and help his wounded horde recover, keep his senses alert for any skillcores along the way, and maybe [b]stop by and see Magda if he had time, and when she showed up. OOC: Rolls in my post after next Running raw dice stats: 5 rolls; min 12; max 95; median 32; mean 38.6 Historical glory: 6 simplefish fucked around with this message at 06:38 on Dec 7, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 03:49
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Cause HP 2/3 Skills Archeology (using) Glory 4 -> 5 Cause was only mostly exhausted, and now turned a keen eye to the fallen dance fighters. Looting was basically finding the most valuable bits out of a mass of confusion, and that was extremely archeology, no matter that Cause didn't intend to let the stuff age any. http://orokos.com/roll/574871 1d100+4+10 = 33 There had better be something here better than drumsticks...
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Dec 7, 2017 03:53
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  Name: Beco Skills:Cowardice [c/d], Screaming[using] HP:3/3 Glory:1>2 Everything's dark, badly injured? No, no pain. What then? Dead!?! Wait a second, hold on... Beco slowly opened his eyes and unpacked himself from the fetal position. He couldn't believe it, he was alive. All around him lay dead and dying Fröman, but he wasn't one of them. He wasn't even hurt. He patted his hands up and down his body unwilling to believe the evidence of his senses. His spear was lying on the ground next to him, the second head stained with that weird, glowing blood. Amazing! He must have actually have fought in the battle, and he stabbed a warlord. He didn't just hide like he did with the wendigos at the Nagel. Probably, he couldn't be fully sure, things get kinda fuzzy when he's excited. The momentum of what had happened swept over him, and involuntarily, he balled up and let out a noise somewhere between a squeal and a sob. Then he did it again. After a few moments of this he could finely start thinking clearly. There was still much to do, but what was the best use of his skills? After all, he's great at just about everything, that's why everyone likes him so much. What about the beaten Frö? Some of them must have survived, and surely after the beating The Unexpectables handed out they would see the benefits of joining up. All they needed was a friendly Frö face to reassure them it was the right choice. It would only help that he was so handsome. Mind made up, he bellowed with the full capacity of his powerful lungs, conditioned from a lifetime of running, screaming, and crying. "Fröman survivors to me. Those who can't walk, just lift your heads and pay attention. It's time to join the winning side..." Recuit survivors: 1d100+10+1 72
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Dec 7, 2017 04:19
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Is this what the Old Guys looked like?
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Dec 7, 2017 04:20
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Gado!!! Skill: Digging (+20 Used), Mining (+10 Used) HP: Glory: 2 Gado's guts twist when Vist rolls up on a semi-private conversation and immediately begins to berate him, but he bites his tongue until the tirade is over. It's not like he'd been expecting no backlash for what he was planning on doing, it was just that he just hadn't expected it to be so immediate. After Vist departs and he's gone his own way, Gado lets his hand relax, the weak fist he'd been trying to make releasing the tension that had built up during his dressing down. First he'd go see Grimper about officially approving the plan, it'd put the horde at ease hopefully, but that remained to be seen. This would be over before anyone really knew it in any case, for better or worse.
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Dec 7, 2017 04:35
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  Skill: Sleuthing +20 (using) HP: 2/3 Glory: 9 ----> 10 As Grimper crashed into the ground, Humbug rose from the piece of Agenou's armour he'd been leaning against, amidst the blood-churned mud of the battlefiel. With no-one left to cover behind it, it had made do as a place of rest. The Sleuth's neck wound throbbed. His arms ached. His throat was sore from all the yelling and heavy breathing. Nevertheless he cleared his throat meaningfully in the settling dust. "And that, ladies and gentletö, was The Unexpectables!" he rumbled, gravelly voice carrying over the battlefield. A smile crossed his features, tired arms lifting, clapping at a show well ended, he himself laughing as if the Unexpectables' victory was the funniest thing in the world. --------- The detective chuckled some more, wiped a few tears from his eyes - it was better this way. Laugh so hard that you cried, get it out of your system... he'd needed to get something out, for sure, after getting so close to death over and over. Spite, at those who'd seen him jailed and conscripted. Gratitude that he was not dead. Amazement, at all that happened. In that final part of the battle, he had directed himself and his fellow Tö against Agenou's elitest knife-wielding dance-maniacs, using nothing but wits, tricks and well-aimed street brutality - and had come out on top of a pile of Frömen corpses, survival at the edge of a blunted knife. He had witnessed the Frömen Warlord die, brought low by a band of the Horde where old Grimper himself had failed. Poor ol' Bully and that utter clown Harlee were avenged, and then some! Even the Warlord himself had been 'saved' - though it seemed like one should never count that one down and out. Whatever else, their Horde entered legend today. Those who'd been brave enough to face the Warlord directly, lead by Gigs the Unflappable were being showered in glory. As much as he wanted to rest his tired muscles, Humbug knew the Horde would be busy, now. There were wounds to tend, armies to feed, stuff to loot, corpses to toss, prisoners to finish off, interrogate or, apparently, recruit? Not to mention a few other matters to investigate and deal with. Doc and Cornbread. Bamboo and her sudden eloquence. Zapanda and her damnable reticence to answer straight questions. He was still wandering the battlefield, poking at this body and that and peering at the crushed, fallen body of the enemy Warlord when Gado approached him. Successful Businessmanga posted:Magda is the next stop on Gado’s tour. It's a brief exchange, but a fistful of Glory is forked over to the Quartermaster and then Gado is off to find Humbug with a jar of Strange Red Goo in his grasp. After locating the humble Sleuth Gado starts in on his pitch "Heya Humbug! Wanted to pay back your kindness before something untoward happened." Snapping the Bone Tö Pick down into the soil, he proffers the jar of red goo "You're pretty good at sniffing out what the secrets are behind things, so I figured you might wanna take a stab at this one. I know Zapanda apparently wasn't much help with it back when we picked it up." With a grin Gado leaves, the Bone To Pick still handle up in the ground posed for Humbug to easily grab it up. Humbug accepted the glass bundle and stared at the digger for a long moment while Gado turned his back and began to walk off, heading straight in the direction of Snödis and the Neötype squad. The digger heard the detective sigh, then the sound of the pick being lifted from the ground. "You're a rare gem, Gado. Hairdo of a mad mole and the brains of one, too. Best of luck, maroon," said the Sleuth at the Digger's back, voice hoarse and wry. He could have said more. He could have spoken about the Outbreak in Old Tö-Town five years ago - about the men and women, good guards, good friends, that had gone down fighting maddened wendigo. About the disdain and outright hate a Branded might face, even in such a cosmopolitan place as the Capitol, thanks to events like that, and some might say rightly so. Humbug knew better. Sure, even Branded wendigoes could go berserk and start killing and spreading their condition, and there was hardly any stopping them except for with pain, misery and sacrifice. Sure, there was the danger of Madmist on top of it all. Sure, there was the loving Wendigo Cascade Hypothesis now rolling around in his brainbox. But... the Sleuth had always been nosy. Back in the days after The Outbreak, he'd dug up the stories of the Branded wendigoes that had gone into the breach, fighting for Tö in that very fray. Of the civilians, the poor, the thieves, the beggars, monsterized or not, who'd tossed their poo poo, heaped barricades down narrow alleyways and battled for their neighbours and neighbourhoods as the Watch hemmed and hawed and considered burning the place down just to be sure, before finally being browbeaten into committing to a less scorched-earth cleansing by Watch Captain Badbrass. Good people had died that day... but it could have been worse if ordinary people and local branded wendigoes hadn't sought the fray. The scales had balanced strangely, painfully, that day, but balanced they had. If Gado thought he could handle being a Wendigo, power to him! If Grimper would let him be - was in any shape to let him be. Of course, if the Digger thought it wouldn't come at a cost, now and in the future, he was a massive idiot... it was just that Humbug didn't have to be a part of that price. ---------------------------------------  The Sleuth looked the weapon over. Something seemed a little strange about it now that he had it in his hands again, but he just couldn't put his finger on it - perhaps it was the fact that the Bone Tö Pick had been, directly and indirectly now, responsible for the deaths of two Töans? At least it would come in handy for what he wanted to do next. The Sleuth walked closer to Agenou's giant corpse, and began to hack at its rocky exterior. Something inside had been crushed and broken, in a giant flash, by Grimper's final attack. A giant core? Something else? Whatever it was, Humbug was morbidly curious enough that he figured making his way inside to see if there was anything left to retrieve Inside Agenou's Body couldn't hurt. Loot action: Picking through Agenou's body parts: 1d100 53 --------------------------------------- Once he'd finished with his ghoulish excavation, and with the Red Goo burning a hole in his pocket (actually, a Reedblade had probably done that pocket in), Humbug decided to get started on investigating the goop's true nature. If Zapanda had not wanted to be forthcoming. "Grumbus! Just the Tö I was looking for," he exclaimed warmly, staying at an arm and a half's length. "I've heard you keep rats, and I just happen to need some. See, Gado was kind enough to procure me the Red Goop from Nägel, and since Zapanda told me to lick it to find out what it does, I'd rather see what happens if a small animal gets a whiff. Maybe it'll give me some clue as to what it's really all about." Downtime action: Sleuthing at the Red Goop 1d100+29 42
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Dec 7, 2017 05:38
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Hiya! I am back home from my Christmas party and noticed from comments on Discord that I accidentally had the Drummers hit everyone, which wasn't the case - only the four lowest. I'll fix that tomorrow, as well as writing up a mini-update with possible things to loot as Magda comes over to see just what the gently caress is going on over here. Then I'll be 'taking a break' until next week, where the break involves drawing the ten billion new items you guys will probably fine.
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Dec 7, 2017 05:40
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Oh good, loot! Don't work yourself too hard just cause we want to cuddle with our new shinies.
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Dec 7, 2017 05:48
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simplefish posted:I would like that clarification on the number/type of actions allowed during downtime. Downtime and You: A Primer on Using Your Free Time to Best Benefit the Horde After battles and missions, Downtime can be declared. When in downtime, Hordemembers can do a lot of things for their round's action, such as: A) help the medics through healing, entertaining, or cooking for the wounded, B) help the cooks through cooking, hunting, or foraging for food, C) do something to interact with the environment for self-improvement D) do something help others/the army. (Note: contributing help to another hordemember's project increases the chance of success!) In addition to rolling for one of the above actions, Hordemembers can also interact with each other, trade items or Glory, and buy things at Madga's Shop. FUN FACT:  You can take an action and buy things from Magda's shop using the Glory you've just earned, all in the same post! FUN FACT: Skillcores "refresh" their cooldowns both before and after Downtime! ^^^ The above rule can be circumvented in the event of an Ambush. Don't let your guard down! Healing Healing is a Conflict between the healers and the wounded - their combined roll is rolled against d100 rolls representing the wounded. Success heals each wounded by 1 HP - and each 100 over heals an additional HP. The Horde has ten captured doctors in tow, meaning they automatically will have 10 Healers available during Downtime. If the initial Conflict roll of the Healers versus the Wounded fails, the healers will attempt to heal only the most gravely wounded (those with 1 hp). Currently, the Unexpectable Horde has 114 Soldiers. 61 of them are injured, and 23 of them are at 1hp. FUN FACT: Mooks and inactive players do not help out during downtime. Those dirty freeloaders! Cooking Cooking is a Conflict between the cooks and the number of Rations they are preparing. Soldiers may choose to roll against any d100 amount of stored Rations in an attempt to prepare them. On a success, each Ration can be traded for one of these effects at the cook’s will:
Currently, the Unexpectable Horde has 5 rations. Note: All the following has nothing to do with Downtime: Loot Rolls All Loot Rolls use a raw 1d100. As of this Downtime, Glory points and skillcores are not applied to loot rolls - this keeps things more balanced for new players. As a Free Looting Action, hordemembers can roll for any one available Skillcore at the time(s) they become available. Mooks will claim any available skillcores (and surplus items) that are not rolled for in such a way.If you have any further questions, go ahead and join the Discord to ask away! Lux Anima fucked around with this message at 20:59 on Dec 8, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 05:55
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Prince of Space posted:So, you've found yourself in a Downtime! Here's a handy-dandy field guide for what you can do while on downtime: Thanks Prince, that's really helpful. I'll update my post. For my own reminder in future: per downtime - heal or cook or some other project, choose one and only one - shopping doesn't count as an action - one looting action if downtime comes after combat - skillcore acquisition rolled separately to looting as soon as they become available, choose only one to roll for Healing works as xd100 healing vs yd100 injured Success = 1hp for all injured + 1hp extra for every 100 points we beat the "injured" roll by Failure = reroll xd100 (healers) vs xd100 (injured) prioritising critical wounded Cooking I'll have to get my head round later, still not 100% sure I understand that.
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Dec 7, 2017 06:19
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  Skills:Spreading Disease, Cursing HP: 2/3 Glory: 15/16(?) Grumbus cheered as Grimper finished off the other warlord. His profanity laden pep talk worked! He briefly considered helping out his sleeping boss, but concluded it was better to let the Big Man sleep. Warlords doubtless had all sorts of weird stuff going on inside them, so Grumbus instead joined his hordemates in looting. The horde's resident plaguebearer walked through the battlefield gathering up loose rats, giving each an affectionate pat or scratch behind the ears before he returned them to the sack. The Unexterminable Swarm were all very good boys and girls; Grumbus didn't hear a single Unexpectable complain about rat bites! So he decided to reward the mangy rats by tossing a loose Fröman arm into the bag. The sack convulsed in an orgy of feasting/violence in response. As he sat down to wait for the Unexterminables to calm down, something caught his eye. Loot to be edited in later. - - - Grumbus gingerly took the Red Goop from Humbug with a smile, "Humbug, you've come to the right Tö!" Before he did anything else, Grumbus removed a thick pair of gloves from his case. Normally he relished in touching strange and disgusting substances with his bare hands, but the Goop came from Nägel. Grumbus was quite happy with himself as he was and had no desire to be a Wendigo, so a bit of extra caution was warranted in this case. "Unfortunately, I don't have a microscope so I can't tell you what it looks like up close. Maybe talk to the three-eyed fel-oh...right." An awkward moment passed before Grumbus continued, "So, we're just gonna, uh, skip to the fun part." He removed a pipette from his case and took a sample of the Goop, setting it aside for now. Then, he reached into The Bag and removed a lethargic rat, gently setting it on the ground. "Alright, this here is Mango. Now Mango's not the ideal test subject on account of having mange, a whole host of parasites, and, like, three different kinds of pox, but she'll have to do. Sorry, Mango." Grumbus picked up his pipette and squeezed drops of Goop into Mango's many open sores and lesions, choking back a sniffle as he did so. Grumbus threw the empty pipette into a nearby fire when he was done. "All that's left to do is wait. Be ready for anything, Humbug." Spreading Disease to conduct animal testing with a possible pathogen: 1d100+26 = 111 paper bag with a face fucked around with this message at 07:26 on Dec 7, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 06:28
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For those considering loot, with Flitter doing the desertion routine these are now up for grabs.
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Dec 7, 2017 06:36
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   Name: Bamboo HP: 1/3 Glory: 24 + 1 (Downtime Glory) + 1 (Agenou Bonus Glory) > 26 Skill: Basket Weaving (+15) [READY] -[ Fostis Outskirts]- Bamboo slowly walked towards the triage area while trying to clean off her garrote as best she could. She had survived yet another battle, this time, against direct action on an enemy Warlord. What further madness did this war have in store for her. Still, things could have been worse; at least she was herself again. First things first, she wasn't going to be much good to anyone if she couldn't get healed up; becoming crippled wasn't an option. Bamboo was hurt; she did her best to get medical care from the assembled doctors for both herself, and, the rest of The Horde. Action > Assist with Healing: 1d100+24 44 [1d100=20] Clearly, she was still much better at taking life than adding to it. Taking stock, she did feel clearer, sharper, stronger, as if her skill had evolved. Better still, it felt as if some of the 'dust' had been wiped off, that the veil had partially lifted. She wasn't just the Basket Weaver anymore. OOC: @Dogkisser, if you don't object to the idea, I'd like to 'convert' Bamboo's skill from 'Basket Weaving' to just 'Weaving', following with her character development. Seeing the rest of The Horde paw over the dead, Bamboo roused herself and joined them in their grisly business; no sense being squeamish anymore. They all needed to get Stronger, and there was still much more killing to be done. First things first, she had taken too much damage in this last battle, she needed better protection. The String-Slayer Garb was a good start, except it was too recognizable. She scrounged around, looking at the various bits of detritus from the fight, determined to make it more 'Non-Descript'. Action > Bamboo claims a set of the String-Slayer Garb +2 as 'free-loot'. OOC: @Dogkisser, if its not too much trouble, can you please make a 'Non-Descript' set of the String-Slayer Garb +2 for Bamboo? Agenou held an unbelievable ten skill-cores within him; no wonder he was such a tough b*stard to bring down. Of the set, one held her interest, Fashion. After all, what was a 'Weaver' without some 'Fashion'-sense? Action > Bamboo rolls to claim the Fashion skill-core: 1d100 1 [1d100=1] Wow. Just, Wow. Luckily, we get to re-roll on ones, yeah? > Bamboo rolls to claim the Fashion skill-core - Re-Roll on 1: 1d100 9 [1d100=9] The Hell. Looks like Bamboo will never get another skill. Finally, she needed a better garrote. She had lost her last one in the Palace, during that Long Night. What she had now, this simple bit of wire and wood, just wouldn't do. She would make a better one from what was here in this blood soaked forest. Action > Bamboo rolls to make a Garrote +2: 1d100+24 50 [1d100=26] What are these rolls? Apparently, unless Bamboo is fighting for her life, the dice simply won't care about her. ***** Later, she went out looking for a very specific someone. And indeed, she wasn't the only one; it seems like The Detective was quite popular at the moment. Bamboo walked by the small crowd assembled around Humbug, ever so slowly, ever so casually. Drawing his eye, she nodded ever so slightly, then inclined her head ever so gently towards the nearby woods, before walking off in that direction. The implication was clear; "Walk with me Humbug, we have much to discuss." ***** Edit ***** Added loot and skillcore rolls (and poorly at that), plus addressed some bookkeeping issues. CourValant fucked around with this message at 05:52 on Dec 11, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 07:10
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You're a prince, Prince! While Discord is surely quicker, I think a good summary like this in the actual thread is a huge help, especially given how many new players have recently showed up. Not everyone has easy access and/or time to hop on Discord! I myself seem to have some how mistakenly thought I could loot OR take downtime action, but not both, so this summary was a big help!
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Dec 7, 2017 07:12
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I will detail cooking a little more when I get home in a bit
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Dec 7, 2017 07:12
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  Sucy HP: 3 Glory: 23 -> 24 Skill: Mushrooms+15 Sucy decides to commemorate their victory over Agenou by looting his cape and tailoring it into fashionable sashes for the horde members, with those who stood against the warlord getting dibs. Any help would be appreciated Item loot roll: Create Agenou sashes: 1d100+23: 33 Skill core loot roll: Claiming Kicking +25 skill core: 71 Free weapon or armor: Taking free string slayer armor Downtime action: Heal the wounded: 50 sheep-dodger fucked around with this message at 09:50 on Dec 8, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 07:41
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Name: Börk Skills: Kissing (using), Listening (using) HP: 3/3 Glory: 8 Börk looked around the archer corpses of a suitable weapon. Some of them had had their strings slashed by the Unexpectables seeking to disable the String-Slayers, but he hoped he could find one intact. Even better would be to find an officer and take theirs, he thought. Didn't posh boys always have he best stuff? Börk listened to the pitch and reverb, the decay and attack of every instrument-weapon he came across choosing the best quality . Loot a String Slinger : 1d100+10(listening) = 89 After that, Börk headed back down the hill, to where the wounded were gathering. "Hi Gränï," he greeted, then set to work helping. He saw her trying the old 'kiss it better' approach to field medicine, and while nobody seemed to respond well to her sloppy smooches, her hugs did help. Börk knew a thing or two about kissing, himself (and kissing himself) and joined in, aiming to heal his hordemates with a gentle kiss on their forehead and some compassionate words.. Healing: 1d100+8(glory)+10(kissing) = 32 ...It seemed that a little TLC was not a particularly effective treatment for puncture wounds and blunt-force trauma. Running raw dice stats: 7 rolls; min 12; max 95; median 32; mean 40.86 Historical glory: 8 simplefish fucked around with this message at 08:37 on Dec 8, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 07:42
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    Extra Skillcore: Sitting Quietly HP: 3/3 (2 wire) Glory: 21->22 Ignomity: -6 Ritual Glory: 9 After the battle, Snödis had a lot on her mind. She took a seat on the enemy warlords fallen Baton, easily the size of a quarterstaff for someone of her stature, that in a pinch would make for a mighty fine bench for relaxing on, as she considered the possibilities that lay before her. Sitting Quietly on the Baton to loot it: 1d100+10 = 64 The battle had gone swimmingly, from her point of view. Sure, her neck was now partially cold, unfeeling metal, but she wasn't using it for much besides blood transfer anyway. Not with Tö-Päin temporarially out of the picture. At any rate, her Squad had performed wonderously and she was sure their efforts as well as that of her own would be enough to secure her place as a Captain, when the gentle giant that was their Warlord would deign to once more awaken. She would have to make sure to put a word in for the valour of Noggins as well, not that the chivalerous Tögirls actions could not speak for themselves, but it never hurt to have Rank on your side. It was around this time that Gado approached her, notes in hand, raving about her precious Sonicore. "Ah, the report. Thank you, I'll review it later when things calm down a bit. You've done a good job Comräde. Was there anything else?" ... Her eyes shone with unremorsefull glee as Gado explained to her his plan, elation plain on her otherwise stern features. "You have made a wonderful decision Comräde Gado. One that only a few Brave souls ever elect for themselves. Volountary Ascendancy has been, shall we say, frowned upon by the Ignorant Public, who in their blind fear see only monsters. But we know the truth of things, am I right? It is the way forward. The only way forward. To shed your baseline skin like the cocoon of a venomous cobaltwing catterpiller, emerging a Butterfree. There will of course be objections. As much as it pains me to admit it, bearing the Slave-Mark of the Warlord might be your only chance to survive out here on the battlefield, where Open Minds Like Ours are sadly not as prelevant. I can hear the grumblings of the anti-monsterism crowd already, grabbing their torches and pitchforks. But do not worry, the Neötype Squadron shall oversee your transförmation. None shall dare interfere with Prögress." With that she stood up, (hopefully) taking the Baton with her, and escorted Gado over to Trinh 'Trinh my girl! Simply amazing performance out there. You should be commended. That said, could I perchance trouble you to help this man? He has realized the folly of the Old Ways and wishes to Ascend, to be as you and the others. With the warlords <and here she grimaces, leaning heavily on air-quoutes> blessing, there should be nothing stopping us. All the same, if the others could be roused from their downtimes, it would not hurt to have the whole crew on site, just in case." Ordering Trinh to help with Gados Ascendancy - The other Neötypes are free to help if they so desire, but I will spare them my orders for now. For her own part, Snödis kept watch around the small gathering, shooting angry glares and bitter words at those that looked even remotely likely to protest. Disapproving Poetry to Keep Away Interlopers: 1d100+20+21-6 56 "Not another step you racist interloper! Gado's mind has been made up, he sure is a real trooper!" Don't you dare come any closer, do not even think to interfere, for what we do is Prögress, you should be glad to have been here!"
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Dec 7, 2017 07:59
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    Name: Verika HP: 3/3 Skills: Accuracy (active), Perception Equipment: Fröman Cuirass (+1), Sharp Stick (+0), Shield Glory: 4 -> 5 Ritual Chits: 23 -> 26 (artwork bonus) Fostis (Post-Battle): Verika gingerly stepped over the field of dead and dying soldiers, seeking out the enemy's archers with an intense, feverishly precise look in her eye. She was on the prowl, intently scanning the battlefield for her prey. She was far too focused in her task to bask in the customary post-battle afterglow, not here - not now anyway - not when time was of the essence. She had only moments to spare to find it before someone else would: the perfect bow. Finally, with a heart-fluttering moment of shock and relief, she found it: Looting a Quality Bow: 1d100 90 Unblemished, untarnished, and not sign of wear-and-tear, it was the perfect example of everything that a bow should be, and then some. The corners of Verika's mouth curled into a smile for the first time in a very long while. She plucked at the bow's string and practically thrummed with delight at the musical tone that erupted. She unslung the dead Fröman's quiver and loaded it up with as many of the fallen archers' song-arrows as she possibly could. When she couldn't cram any more of the String-Slayers' unused ammo into her quiver, she grabbed another dead man's quiver and kept going. It wasn't until she found herself meandering around the battlefield clutching at two armfuls of song-arrows, with three full quivers and an arrow-laden shield strapped to her back, that Verika realized that she probably had enough arrows on her to go out hunting for game. She fired off a practice shot and admired the way the arrow sang as it arced across the sky and made a ringing tone when it struck the dead center of a distant tree, right near where Börk's head happened to be. Whoops! She waved at the Töman with oblivious glee, and shouted "Sorry!" after him. She preferred her arrows to be silent for obvious reasons, but she'd have to admit it was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard, much less made all by herself. The fact that she might've scared the crap out of Börk in the making of that sound was simply icing on the proverbial cake. She was glad he hadn't died in the battle, anyway. Verika gathered up her things and bounded off into the forest. In Morrskag forest there were all kinds of animals that were good to eat. Verika had seen signs of them when traveling through the forest before. Verika was starving for something other than bread, and her predatory instincts were beginning to take over. Time to unleash that hunger on some brush-hoppers and tree-flitters, or maybe a delicious tuskbeast or antlerbeast will happen past her sights. No matter her prey, she was coming back with some kind of wild game for cooking. Verika was thrilled. Finally, she had found a way to help out the Horde with her excellence in markstöwomanship.  Hunting for Meat (Preserve Rations): 1d100+14 83 When she came back to camp, meat would be on the menu again. Lux Anima fucked around with this message at 10:18 on Dec 9, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 09:28
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  Name: Hob HP 1/1 Glory: 14>1>2 Ritual Glory : 6>0 Skill: B̴̷̛́̀é̸̡͠è̴̛͞ ̶͜Ķ̕e͝͡è̢̢̡̨p̵̢̛҉͞i͏͠ń̷̡g̷͘͝, Contortion, Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛(used) Action Summary posted:
Hob tipped some more Froan corpses into the pits handily created by Gado's burrowing, being sure to leave ther lootables out for the rest of the horde. He could pick over the remains later. The dead hordemates were receiving makeshift funerals elsewhere, but something needed to be done about this mound of bodies. There were wounded to see to, but Hob kept his distance. Who knows how infectious he was? No, until he got a chance to ask Grimper about transmitting Wendi-seases, he would keep away. Same for food, acually. Hob's primary purpose in the horde had been subverted. "What's that? Oh." It seemed the balancing of his cores had restored his vocal chords. No more weird notes bursting out of his mouth. "F̪ǫ̝̩̫̤͕ͅc͎̭̼͉̣͇̜u҉̺̩͖s̢̜ͅ,̘̘͙̰̘͚̼̕ ̵̺̩̤̥̪w̫̦h͞a̯̹͖̼̤͉t̘͖͓͚ ̣̝͚̙̟͞is̹̪̝̪͎̩̤ ͈̞͍̤͚͇̩t͎̣̠̣̟̩h̥á̩t̛̜̰͕?̦̝̰̖̼͉̯̕" Hob's stomach mouth growled. The cobalt wing!? The butterfly hovered near the mound. Hob looked around frantically for Flitter, but seen nothing. Hob looked at the grave. He hadn't been looking at each one closely, there were so many... Could she be down there? Dead? No, they were all Froans, wearing the Froan uniform. Flitter must have left the butterfly behind while she visited the docs or something. Hob moved on to the next grave, but watched the Cobalt wing. would anyone come to take care of it? Thankfully, Gränï and Stårn were nearby, Hob waved at them with bug hands. ---- Once the battlefield was cleared up a little, Hob picked through the remains. The horde had grabbed all sorts of useful things, and more still lay broken underfoot. But nothing jumped out at him. A broken bow. A drum with the skin punched out. No, Hob thought, picking up chunk of warlord fist and droping it in the growng pile of hand-shards next to Grimpers sleeping form - No the only thing that had jumped out on them was Agenou. Agenou the dancer. Hob looked at Grimper, asleep, at his cracked body and broken hand. Agenou the monster. Hob stood over the dead giant. His body picked clean of armour, clothes stripped off to make cloaks and scarves. Someone had even gutted him, looting his bones. He would be buried here, and forgotten. Agenou the dead. It wasn't enough. With his three arms, Hob grabbed Agenou's neck bones and twisted them just so, breaking them away from his head. Even knowing the precise places to contort, it still required some Wendigo strength to twist off. Loot Agenou's skull: 1d100+10-10 65(skillcore use removed). The flesh scraped off easily enough. --- Magda watched over, giving out some of the collected loot. "Oh! A drum, that'll do nicely, something musical to sing along to." Picks up a war drum as free pick. Hob tried to stay positive. --- Back in town, Hob stopped the nailed Fostians one by one. "you will tell me who in this town knows most about ores and mining". No questions, statements that detailed very specific orders. He had heard that the nails allowed them to lie, or to give opinions that concealed the truth, and had to be careful. Eventually finding an experienced miner, Hob ordered him. you will tell me the properties of Regentrock. Oricalcum. and Sonior. You will tell me where you find them. You will tell me how you search for new veins. You will tell me any current known locations, veins, or suspected sources of these materials in the mine. You will tell me your mining songs. If the nail wasnt compelling them, being confronted by a horrible wendi-beast carrying a giant skull certainly was. Hob took his knowledge into the mine. Others were venturing back to the OG vault, but that held nothing of interest anymore. No, Hob was lookign for ore. Oricalcum was his primary goal, but he wouldn't sneeze at some regentrock. Actually, could he sneeze anymore? What exactly has happened to his nose? "F͕̼o̡̯̖̹c̟̣u̪̱͙͕̰͓s̻̹̲" said his second mouth. Yes, that's right. Hob took the miner's knowledge, and their songs, and Ś̙̥̯ͅan͎g͎̪̗̺ͅ. It echoed through the mine. The song guided him, as it had to open the vault, but Hob was in control now. Not being led but leading. The noise echoed off the rock, and slight dissonance entered teh song in response ot the changing feel of the stone. Led by the Ś̙̥̯ͅon͎g͎̪̗̺ͅ, Hob began to Mine for Oricalcum (or regentrock): 1d500+50+1 245. --- Taking what he had found in the mine, Hob approached Magda. Dropping in his 6 ritual glory to the pot for Monsterist's enervating brew, Hob laid out his requests. He thought about giving her the skull to fashion into armour, but no, it was more intimidating as a weapon. A great crushing mass. Sliding over 4 glory, Hob asked "Please, could you make me a metal eyepatch? Protect my face and cover this." Hob gestured to his missing eye, completely ignoring the disgusting mass to the right of his ruined eye. "if that would cover some kind of hooded cloak as well... No don't worry, I can save up come back later." UPGRADE REQUEST- 4 glory> ARMOURED EYEPATCH "Next", Hob slides over 8 more glory "I'd like you to make some armour, with this ORE passes over the mined ore. Hob shuffled his feet a little. The rumours had been flying about Noggins captaincy bid, and he had seen her doodling on some bark. It was clear what her plan was. "It's gonna be a gift, I would really appreciate it if you could engrave that logo Noggins came up with just here on the chest". Hob slid over one more glory, in the hope that this minor aesthetic change would be incorporated. "oh wait, yeah it's for Gabber, not Noggins. You know his size, about the same as I was before this, i think he found a guard for his lower face but that's it. UPGRADE REQUEST- 8 glory+ORE(+1glory request)> GABBER's ARMOUR. Yeah, rumour had it that Gabber was one of Noggins's picks. A good guy. Someone that would have her back. Hob nodded to himself. Yeah, Gabber was the guy. But he had been running about unarmoured for ages now. All it would take would be a stray blade to the ribs and the poor guy would be gutted like a fish. Hob waited for Gabber's armour to be passed back from Magda, humming a tune as his bees buzzed along with him. Yeah, this would make things safer for him. WereGoat fucked around with this message at 01:22 on Dec 10, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 10:55
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Skills: Cross Stitching (using), Spinning (cooldown) HP: 2/3 Glory: 4/3 > 2/1 (if attack with Grimper gets the +1 or not) While doing her healing rounds, Gränï stumbled upon the Flutterwing floating around the dead near Hob. She always had a love for murderous house pets and kept a whole host of cäts at home, but never felt comfortable intruding on the animal's obvious bond with its previous owner. But with the wrangler MIA after three battle, Gränï was eager to meet the creature. "Here little one. Gränï loves you, yes she does! Have a tasty treaty wheaty from granny!" Giving 2 glory to the battlefly
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Dec 7, 2017 12:58
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Potrait:  Naim: Mason Skillz: Mason Hootin' an' Hollerin' Mason Masonry HeeP: Mason Mason Mason Glury: Masonx17 -> 18 Mason decides to yell at all the dead corpses hoping to find a weapon out of it! Mason Holler's for a Weapon!: 1d100+10 17 ...It's not very effective! more to come later, i guess!
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Dec 7, 2017 13:13
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  Name: Neebs Skill(s): Sales (+10) (used this turn), Drinking (+10) (on cooldown) HP: 3/3 Glory: 8 + 1 for surviving the commander -> 9 + 1 posting glory => 10 - 5 purchase of Fostis Ale -> 5 She'd...made it out of the battle without a scratch? That didn't seem right. Grimper was looking to be in bad shape, but the rest of the horde? The wendigos back at Nagel had done worse. All the horde needed was a pick me up. There probably wouldn't be anything worth looting in this rabble; so Neebs decided her first stop after the battle would be Magda...she plopped 5 glory down and said, "Hey, before you run off to see the aftermath of the ruckus, I need one of those kegs of Fostis Ale. Thanks, peach, you're a real doll."  Neebs then proceeded to roll the keg to a good spot near the entrance of town where she knew the Unexpectables would pass when returning from the battlefield. She took off her armor, and set it by the keg; she'd need her exposed skin for her sales-pitch; to show how she had no wounds. She kept the scarf on, however, fashion was necessary for sales. She then proceeded to hawk free rations of Fostis Ale to any passing Unexpectables, marketing it as "Neebs Miraclous Wonder-Brew". "What ails you, fellow Unexpectable? Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew can fix it. Why, back at Nagel I was one of the worst hit by the Wendigos, but look at me now, hale and hearty, and not a scratch on me! My wounds were healed before we left Nagel and my skin has toughened so I didn't take any damage at all in this latest battle, all because I drank a little of this little draught right here! For you? Free of charge, just tell your friends of the wonder of Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew." "You maam, you seem to be in bad spirits? Need a pick me up? Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew can fix it. Here, please; just have a taste; you won't regret it. You'll be skipping back into town in no time; singing praises to our creators. No, no. No payment necessary, gentle-lady, this healing tonic is being distributed for free for the good of the horde. Leave any donations to make future batches of Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew in the armor by the barrel." "You sir. Please, have some of this healing draught. Your wounds concern me, and I couldn't sleep tonight if I didn't provide some of this to help you recover. Supplies of this healing tonic run out when this barrel is empty; so I wouldn't recommend waiting on your wounds to get worse before having some. Remember, preventative healing in advance is better than healing after it's infected. Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew can prevent the sniffles, and with the open wounds you have on display, you need a double-dose to prevent infection, my friend. No no, you don't pour it on the wound (though that won't hurt), you drink this, my friend!" Healing the wounded with Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew: 1d100+10+5 105 (all praise the placebo effect) (Note: Any who take a free sample of Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew gain +25 Camaradery, whatever that is. It goes without saying that Neebs has to take a number of drinks throughout the hawking process in order to demonstrate the wonderful benefits of Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew. Neebs also gains +25 Camaradery, I assume with everyone else who drinks the Fostis Ale that is marketed as Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew) After she'd emptied the barrel, she held onto it.
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Dec 7, 2017 14:16
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   Name: Ringo! HP: 2/2 (Crippled) Glory: 16>17 Skill: Lockpicking (using now), Ventriloquism, Whistling(+15) Part 1 Ringo grinned from ear to ear. Agenou lay crumpled and dead before the horde, and the enemy was scattered and broken. And through it all, he had barely a scratch on him. “We’re going to be legends, Chufty.” He said, without a care for who heard him. As the battlefield cooled, Ringo saw the looting and camaraderie beginning which had become something of an Unexpectables custom. All the loot on field was fine and good, but it took someone well-seasoned in the art of subtle wealth procurement to find the really good stuff. Agenou wouldn’t carry his most valuable or powerful weapons and possessions onto the field, not when he was so arrogant and sure of his chances of winning. No, he’d leave them in the rear, with his supplies. Probably locked up in some big chest with a gaudy lock shaped like a big band hat or something. Heh. He pulled his hood up, and slipped off to ply his trade before anyone else could waylay him. Who knows, maybe he’d find Agenou’s embarrassing yearbook photo or something. That’d cheer Grimper up! Loot Agenou’s Personal Supply Chest (+lockpicking): 1d100+10+16 85 Part 2 On his way out to pilfer some valuables, Ringo eyed The quickly growing pile of skillcores. Sure, it was a bit greedy of him, having three already, but he wondered if there was a way to force a resonation. His lockpicking felt a bit shabby these days, and it was his namesake! A few Toans were squabbling over Agenou’s Timing core, including Marra. Ugh, that settled it. It wasn’t worth pissing her off for a longshot. Not from experience, no. Instead, he slipped on by the lesser cores, and made a big for one of the less developed Timing cores. Loot Roll: Get a Lesser Timing Skillcore: 1d100 63 Edit: Planning on asking Magda about this forced resonation plan. Green Intern fucked around with this message at 20:46 on Dec 8, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 14:28
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Half-wit posted:(Note: Any who take a free sample of Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew gain +25 Camaradery, whatever that is. It goes without saying that Neebs has to take a number of drinks throughout the hawking process in order to demonstrate the wonderful benefits of Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew. Neebs also gains +25 Camaradery, I assume with everyone else who drinks the Fostis Ale that is marketed as Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew) It's an extra +25 to your roll, actually! In my opinion, Camaraderie is quite compatible with Sales!
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Dec 7, 2017 16:54
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Name: Gabber Skill: Mimicry (using), Listening+, Night Vision HP: 2/3 Glory: 11->10 Downtime, Part 2: Sometime after the initial looting had worn down, Gabber found himself mulling about town again. Truth be told he was a bit aimless at the moment. Grimper was still very much worse for the wear, which was upsetting. Normally the Warlord was there to reassure them of their next steps with his gentle, guiding hand. However, he had lost his gentle, guiding hand in the battle (or was that the sinister hand that was gone? Guess he'd have to wait til he woke back up to find out). Summarily, things were uncertain moving forward. As he mulled about and began heading towards the town square, he soon heard the calls of the Horde's resident Salestöwoman, Neebs and made his way over: Half-wit posted:"What ails you, fellow Unexpectable? Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew can fix it. Why, back at Nagel I was one of the worst hit by the Wendigos, but look at me now, hale and hearty, and not a scratch on me! My wounds were healed before we left Nagel and my skin has toughened so I didn't take any damage at all in this latest battle, all because I drank a little of this little draught right here! For you? Free of charge, just tell your friends of the wonder of Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew." Gabber did take a look - Neebs did seem hale and hearty, whereas his own headaches from the Wendigo battle had stuck with him for days now. He had considered going to Doc to get looked at as he feared he very well might be concussed, and Zapanda's crew had done nothing for him so far; one look at her janky eye and he'd decided he'd rather not right now. He'd heard wonderful things about herbal remedies over the years, so he gladly took a cup to see what it would do. Having received the cup, he paused, staring at Neebs. After a few seconds of silence, Gabber turned a slight shade of red and raised his right hand, using his pointer finger to make a circle motion requesting she turn around. Once Neebs did finally turn for a moment, there was a sudden loud slurping noise. Turning back around, Gabber handed the empty cup back to her, rubbing his stomach with the other hand. That was pretty good! Only time would tell if his head felt better, but already he felt his spirits lifted a bit. He'd have to try organic remedies more often! Reaching into his belt pouch, Gabber plucked a single glory token out and flipped it to Neebs. Glory: 11 -> 10, 1 glory given to Neebs for the healing brew! Making his way off again, he felt a little pep in his step. As he journeyed onward, he stumbled across Vist and Noggins appearing to be working Agenou's armor, trying to turn it into something a bit more useable for the Horde. He recalled his conversation outside Nagel with Noggins - her desires to acquire a Captaincy, her invite for Gabber to join, and her mentioning wanting to include Vist in whatever group she formed. Earlier he'd been a bit apprehensive of approaching Vist given his attempt to flee earlier in the day, but for some reason those worries seemed to be somewhat dulled after drinking Neebs' brew. Finding courage of a liquid variety, Gabber made his way over to them as they poked and prodded the Dancer's armor. Clearing his throat slightly to get their attention, Gabber sheepishly waved at the two warriors. He wasn't aware of their exact plan or what they were attempting to do, but maybe he could smooth things over by offering to help. If Noggins did become a captain, they'd all have to get along, right? He pointed at the pieces of armor scattered about, pointed at both of them, pointed at himself, and then began mimicking what he had seen the two of them doing a few moments ago - pretending to swing a hammer like Noggins, and closing one eye and giving it an appraising gaze like Vist had. While it was true he had not the first clue on how to work armor, what he did have was invaluable for all sorts of situations - the ability to do a good job faking it! Offering Assistance to Vist & Noggins - Mimicking their efforts to make the armor GREAT again: 1d100+10+10 35 As long as Vist accepts, Gabber is willing to chip in his efforts to make something of Agenou's armor. I'l leave it up to you if you accept or not, and offer him anything in return! He hopes at the least it will help smooth over their earlier dust up - though with that roll he might do more harm than good! Task Manager fucked around with this message at 18:50 on Dec 7, 2017 |
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Dec 7, 2017 18:47
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