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       Skill 2: Amputation Skill 3: Spinning HP: 1/1 Glory 13 Zapanda's cruel words would once have stripped Qwäg's resolve bare, sending her scurrying to her room to brood and second-guess herself. But when the wendigo looked at the ex-researcher, she compelled herself to focus on how pathetic and, ultimately, breakable Zapanda was. It was pointless to be intimidated by a creature who so desperately struggled against her own impotence in whatever way she could, and whose limbs were attached so...tenuously, and so Qwäg simply left. Hordelings passed her by, nibbling of pieces of delicious-looking cake and talking animatedly about this and that subject. None gave Qwäg any notice or regard, save to alter, not-so-subtly to her enhanced analytical process, their trajectories to give her a wider berth. Qwäg, the old Qwäg, was no stranger to the experience, though the evasion was a new wrinkle. It came as no great surprise, either to the anxious Qwäg of before, nor to the calmly analytical Qwäg of now, when upon reaching the mess, the cake was entirely gone. She felt the beginnings of a lump in her throat, and before her eyes, ghostly lines of severance began to spread out to cover everything and everyone before her. But the wendigo took another breath, a ragged one through a too-wide mouth, and simply left. Hob begging off to pursue a more glamorous project would once have plunged Qwäg into simmering resentment, sending her deep into her actuarial tables in an attempt to find interactions that made sense. But when the wendigo looked at her hive-riddled squadmate, she felt no real animus; his advice had been quite sound, after all, and it was well for all members of Her Horde to pursue projects of passion in those fleeting moments between life-threatening conflicts. She gauged Hob's chances of success quite high, so as the armor crew set about their tasks, Qwäg simply left them to it. Sitting alone at the edge of camp, watching hordelings scurry hither and yon, Qwäg considered her lot. She could attempt to monsterize her weapon, as Hob had suggested, but she figured that it was better to avoid rampant displays of monsterism for now, given the matter of Gado, and general sentiments of the moment. She could join the Vault crew again; the last excursion had granted her a fleeting moment of usefulness as something other than a weapon. But R̵is͏̨͝k̀͢ Á͞ss̶͘e͠ss͏̴m҉̸͜e̶͡n͏t́͢ screamed against it, and she doubted it would be allowed, anyway. The risk of contaminating the delicate workings of the Old Guy artifice with her contagion would be deemed too great. Perhaps Zapanda was right, the miserable wretch. Perhaps it would be better if she simply sheathed herself, until Grimper needed something else destroyed. Idly Spinning her savagely-toothed weapon in precise, deliberate orbits, Qwäg waited.
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Dec 15, 2017 06:13
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      Name: Portha Skills: Rummaging, Cleaning, Imagining (in use) HP: 3/3 Glory: After Grimper woke up, Portha decided to report her discoveries, but he somehow already knew. He seemed in a bad mood anyway, so Portha ran off as soon as possible. Portha had already done so much for the Horde that if anyone deserved some much needed downtime it was her; unfortunately, her overactive imagination had other ideas. As she was going through the notes Gado had left on the town's minerals (damned fool, he was one of their best soldiers and an all-around good guy, why'd he decide to throw his life away like that) the notes on Sonior stood out as particularly interesting. A poisonous mineral that could be used as a narcotic. It seemed like the perfect thing to turn into a chemical weapon or at least a battle stimulant for the Horde. All she needed was a sample to experiment with. Snödis had some she hadn't been using, but if she said no then Portha could always dig through the mine tailings for some. Time to go over to Neötype squad's hangout and see if the captain was willing to share her Sonior for a cut of whatever came of it. "Hey, I was thinking of mixing up something with Sonior. If you let me borrow yours I'll give you a cut of whatever the result is." Problem number two: What to mix it with? What if... yes, the fragrant Cowardclaw flower. Its pungent chemistry had to be good for something more than warding off enemies. She'd extract its essence and use Fostis' alchemical supplies to combine it with powdered Sonior. This was probably illegal, but hey, Tö's courts had no jurisdiction out here and what would it matter what Fröman law thought about unlicensed Sonior alchemy since Portha was pretty much marked for death just being here. Alchemy: Sonior + Cowardclaw 1d100+24=82  The real problem was going to be finding someone dumb enough to test it on. Maybe one of the more charismatic Horde members could convince a Fostian to try it after it was finished. Story vote: Thumbscrew! What is this thing we'll be fighting for? super sweet best pal fucked around with this message at 22:41 on Dec 19, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 08:36
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Quick list time, IC post to come later. I have missed a lot of skillcore rolls I think, I was mainly looking for the seating plan. Probably missed some of those too. If anyone wants to copy, correct, and tidy up the list, please do, also maybe if we are selecting things from a list in future we could fill it in as we post? Might be easier. Smashing, (Somnö 94) Dancing x6, Jumping x3, Kicking x4, (Noggins 96, Sucy 28, Ringo 49; portha 7) Impatience, Fearlessness, (Pythag 94) Balance x2, (Vist 50, also vist 71? Is that allowed?; Cause 56) Performing x5, (Marra 19) Virtuoso, (bamboo 59) Sniping, (Verika 95) Slamming, Flipping, Yelling, Clowning, Climbing Table seats: 1 - Ringo! 2 - Börk 3 - Gräni 4 - verika 5 - 6 - 7 - snorkis 8 - Burnie 9 - Bamboo 10 - Pog Börk sits in seat 2 simplefish fucked around with this message at 15:39 on Dec 15, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 10:24
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simplefish posted:Balance x2, (Vist 50, also vist 71? Is that allowed?; Cause 56) I'm using my free skillcore roll to grab one balance, then my downtime action to take the other one. I'm pretty sure that's allowed? If not hopefully dk will tell me before he updates so I can avoid wasting an action
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Dec 15, 2017 11:20
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   Name: Gryph HP: 3 Glory: 8 -> 9 Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10) Gryph sighed as Zapanda berated Qwag. He'd already told the orderlies that Wendigos weren't to help, or at least weren't allowed contact with the wounded, but Qwag had wanted to help and the orderlies didn't have the heart to stop her. She really did just want to help. Which was more than could be said for Trinh. Her smile may have been rictus, but Gryph know that Trinh had been happy with the train of events. Now Gado had been hurt and he hadn't come into the healing tent.he was probably... Gryph knew he had to get answers. Zapanda had wandered off, as was her due, and Gryph still had questions for her. Making sure that the orderlies had the prisoners under control, and making sure that the tent could survive without him. Gryph prepared to leave for what felt like the first time since the fight. but, as he passed Doc, merrily cutting her way into a wounded Tõ, he was interrupted by Humbug,who burst through the curtain. Humbug posted:"Doc! Doc, hooh, glad to have caught you... Gryph's eyes narrowed as Humbug finished talking, his mouth going at a mile a minute. Humbug wasn't usually this talkative with Doc. And he certainly wasn't that touchy-feely either... But he definitely wasn't friendly. As Humbug left, Gryph decided to follow him. Clearly something the detective thought important was happening, and Gryph was tired of always missing out on the things happening in the camp. The first thing he found out the door was a runner who shoved some bread into Gryph's hands, before stepping into the tent. Taking a bite, Gryph enjoyed what were probably the best rations the Unexpectables had managed to cook. Maybe Patsy had actually resonated or picked up a cooking knack. Whatever had happened, Gryph was glad for the change. Humbug had moved on, heading to an inn that bore the marks of Grimper stumbling in. As Gryph watched, Humbug dodged a flagon before shouting into inn and scurrying away. Gryph guessed that he'd asked the Warlord a question. "Uh, what he said!" he shouted into the darkness, unwilling to deal with the drunken Grimper. Turning, Gryph followed Humbug past a Tõ clad in dancer's garb and carrying a gaudy iron pole, lost in thought. OOC: Voting for Unity Lattice. As he passed the pile of weapons and spare skillcores, Gryph remembered the Wrestling skillcore he'd taken, even now in his pocket. "Well, now's the time." he fished it out and swallowed it, moving to the stash and looking for a weapon. He picked up a bowharp non-committedly and made a tentative move for one of the remaining skillcores. Rolling for the Slamming Skillcore: 1d100 33 Humbug had purchased a container of the blue goop taken from Nagel, and was now holding what appeared to be an almost-full bottle of the red goop. Was he experimenting? Trying to discover the secret of the goop? Wouldn't he do better interrogating the scientists and Zapanda that were generally in the medic tent? And had someone already used the red one? Gryph really needed a better handle on the goings on in camp. Wounded care had taken so much of his time,and then there was the skill cores and Old Guy Vault, the sheer number of Tö who gleefully tried to murder themselves somehow... When they weren't being murdered themselves. Zapanda posted:“Agenou's Dancers… Agenou himself. You've done a great evil this day, not that any of you care about that! Agenou was a showboater, but in peacetime his troupe were artists of the highest caliber. Your war turned them into killers, and now into the dead. Fröman art may never recover.” Gryph grimaced as he recalled the outburst she'd laid against them. He knew enough to realise that there was no "good" side, just his side. But he did everything he could to keep the Unexpectables safe, and Agenou had come to kill them all. War hadn't turned them into killers, not any more than they were before it. And they'd killed plenty of Tö, who could have done great things. Gryph wanted the war ended, and knew that he was conscripted. The higher ups wouldn't settle for a peace, and the soldiers would just have to do what they did. Agenou and his men came to kill us, they knew the risks and took them, and we were the better men on the day. No hatred or enjoyment of the men's lives taken was for Gryph. He just wanted to get home, and hopefully do it without losing most of the people near him in the process. But Humbug was on the move, and as Gryph followed him, he made his way back to the medic wagon. A full circuit of the camp? As Humbug neared the wagon, Gryphs eyes widened and then he was running. Zapanda was there, talking with Gado. And Humbug was offering her the red and blue Goop! Skidding to a halt, Gryph started treating Gado. Heart rate fine, wounds clear... Gado was sweating and his flesh rippled slightly. He's infected all right. Gryph was testing Gado's response to light when ice ran through him. poo poo! Gado's mask covered him, but it was obvious that the Miner was unbranded. Either he hadn't gone to Grimper, or Grimper wasn't in the mood or state to brand him. Either way, Gryph knew that if Gado mutated, someone would have to deal with him. And Gryph was the only medical personnel on site. Humbug posted:"Zapanda. I understand you're looking to do a trial run of the Cure, and now have the perfect opportunity to do so. We have the serums. A Cure benefits us all, so Gado will probably happily let you experiment on him given his recent, hum, life choices. I'm here to make sure that doesn't backfire on us all. Before I let you have these, though, I'll want answers to a few more questions." As Zapanda and Humbug conversed, Gryph resolved to make sure this happened. Whatever needed to be done, he was there. Both Tö and Frö needed a cure, and right now, the Unexpectables needed a way to avoid losing more of them. And if worst came to worst, and Gado would go Wendigo... Gryph wouldn't let anyone else do what was his duty. Assisting Humbug and Zapanda with their Experiment: 1d100+15+8 65 Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 07:41 on Dec 18, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 11:38
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 Little Snödis was thrilled that Noggins had decided to help her, and became even more elated at the news that Qwäg might come over later! What fun, perhaps the friendingo could even spin the colourful cloth into the mighty banner of her dreams, or maybe, just maybe, she could be persuaded to spin Snödis around herself, like in one of those carniväl games! And then Portha arived with a beautiful flower, asking if she could have the Sonior that Snödis had collected earlier, for to make a drink. Why, of course you can Portha! She said. Mixing strange tinctures is a staple of any good sleepöver! And if you stay longer we can even bräid eachothers hair! Transfering Sonior to Portha When Verika arived with her dire news, little Snödis took the hat with a trembling lip. "Oh... you mean he won't be coming back, huh? Is he gone forever, like my parents?" Neötype Beret re-aquired
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Dec 15, 2017 12:16
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        Name: Stårn Additional skills: Butterfly Beastmaster, Timing +25 HP: 3 Glory: 26 -> 27 Stårn was nothing if not monomaniacal. Indeed, he hadn't taken his eyes off the Önäger even whilst waiting in line for Sucy's neat little sashes (such a nice lady, that one! He'd have to look one of those skillcores she was after at some point). Indeed, so focused was he on this task that he only responded to Grimper's decree with a snappy little salute without really listening what was said. Only after a bit did the gears in his head start to turn. A Captain? Him!? Stårn blinked, once, then twice, three times. A siege team of his very own. Could it really be? Pa would be so proud..! With completely newfound vigor, Stårn set about to form the venerable Siege Team Six -- Grumbus was not the most popular töan around, what with being gross and terrible and carrying around a bagful of monsterist rats. But where most sensible folk would balk, Stårn saw nothing but potential. "Grumbus my friend", he spoke as he strode forward to meet the man, "Did you know that Sieging is the most brutal, most uncompromising form of conflict? Where no lesson is left unheeded, and no means left unused? Sieging is the sort of warfare where you don't think twice about seeding the enemy's well with eastern wart-pox. With your skills, we could lay blight upon whole garrison, no, depopulate entire cities. Sieging is where someone with your aptitudes belongs! It's an art where you would excel." -- "Mason!" Stårn hollered at the man, "Did you notice your head is carved on the Ram? Clearly you belong in this team!" Simple arguments for a simple man. A man too simple to disobey orders, and loud enough to attract attention away from Siege Weapons being maneuvered into position. A natural fit! -- Stårn sauntered over to the forge, giving the heavy-set Töan within a nod. "Gloff", he begun, "We have a Siege Team now, Warlord's orders. And that means a bunch of heavy equipment that needs making, maintaining, and of course lifting. A strong tö with the skills we require, you would be a most welcome addition to our efforts. Our efforts for ever stronger Sieging techniques. Think about it, will you?" Stårn gave a wink, a wave, and continued on his rounds. -- Poor, accursed Gado. Stårn watched from some distance away as Humbug confronted him with strange bottles, before making his move towards the man. "Nothing's forbidden in Sieging or in making Siege related accessories, you know", he said, "My pa used to tell me that he did. I took that lesson to heart, I did, and it's because of that that I can really appreciate what you tried to pull there. Not many would have the guts to throw the dice like that for more power, to be better at what they're supposed to do at the expense of the rest of their life. That's a real sieger's attitude you know? The sort of attitude I could use as much as I could use a professional sapper", Stårn looked to the side for a bit, "A real shame things had to end up like this, but there's a place in Siege Team Six for you if you want it. And if you manage to pull through this." Stårn nodded once, and left without further word. -- And last but not least was Burnie. "You know what's better than fire, friend", he intercepted the man during his rounds, "Fire that is launched from a siege weapon in great quantities on top of enemy troops!" Stårn slammed a hand on Burnie's shoulder in a somewhat overtly familiar way, "Fire and Sieging have been good friends since the dawn of time, friend, from the moment the first Sieger noticed that it's far easier to Siege a settlement if it's been reduced to ashes. And for that reason your presence would be welcomed in Siege Team Six." -- As the day dragged onward, but before the expedition to the Vault could leave, Stårn carried the Cobaltwing Metalarva with him to the central camp area, glancing about conspiratorially in a somewhat unhinged manner. "Now listen up everybody", he started, "The cobaltwing needs food. But not just any food, no, special foods. Important foods. Well, just really importants, the food part is less relevant. ***** LISTEN UP, HORDE! Big butterfly related decisions need to be made! And since you all were so nice about feeding the thing, you should have a say on how we EVOLVE it. Here's the three choices I am personally partial to: Agenou's Skull!  as hell. Tough, metallic, also Warlord bits are bound to be powerful. Stårn is convinced this would make a strong and tough Butterfly for sieging purposes (I cast my vote for this for what it's worth, Hob willing) [Current votes: Theantero, Green Intern]Sonior! Butterfly learned Poison Powder. At least that is how it will go if DK isn't SUPER LAME [Current votes: 0] Grimper's severed hand! (or Strange Mechanism since it's the Grimperiest bit we have) hahahahhahahahahha [Current votes: Swedish Thaumocracy, gowb, Slaan, sheep-dodger, Prince of Space, Astus] Trying to loot a Kicking skillcore for Sucy: 1d100=83 Theantero fucked around with this message at 01:11 on Dec 16, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 12:32
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On her way back to Fostis' alchemical storage after that really weird conversation with Snödis (the Unexpectables really needed to loot a therapy skillcore), Portha was approached by Sucy. Apparently, she was offering glory to whoever could find extra Kicking skillcores. "I'm not a doctor but I'm sure you'll explode or something shoving all those in," Portha replied, "but I'll take a look." Portha was already potentially enabling several other hordemates' future addictions, what would one more matter? Grabbing a Kicking core to give to Sucy 1d100=7 Unfortunately, Sucy had already offered the same deal to a lot of people who were busy fighting over the cores. Better to just go back and finish weaponizing the Sonior, let someone else take the blame if this went wrong. super sweet best pal fucked around with this message at 13:27 on Dec 15, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 12:44
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    Name: Ringo! HP: 2/2 (Crippled) Glory: 17>18 Skill: Lockpicking, Ventriloquism, Whistling(+15) Other: Timing Core > To Marra Part the Second, wherein non-chronological events occur Sucy had been making noises about Kicking. Lots of kicking. All the kicking cores. Well, not too vocally, but word had been going around that she'd pay for kicking cores, and that suited Ringo just fine. He made sure to stop by the pile on his way through camp. Kicking Skillcore, to give to Sucy: 1d100 49 --- Ringo stared at Marra, her hand outstretched for the timing core. Or a handshake? Marra. She was bad news, at least to Ringo. It should have been simple. Chufty watching one side, Marra the other, and Ringo going right down the middle. Except Marra disappeared at some point, and then the guards came in. Ringo didn't know if he should be insulted or relieved that she didn't remember him. "A favor of my choosing? Against my better judgement, sure. You'll know when I come to collect." He held out the core firmly with both hands. "Lets both remember this one."
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Dec 15, 2017 13:10
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Green Intern posted:Ringo stared at Marra, her hand outstretched for the timing core. Or a handshake?    HP: 3/3 Glory: 3 (Actually 4, but that's for the next turn) Skillcore: Backstabbing (cooldown), Timing Notes: Slinkellomas Immune 'Thanks! You won't regret it.' Good, he didn't seem to bear a grudge. Although he clearly remembered her, so that was information to file away for later. Well, if he didn't try and cause her problems, then she was willing to do the same. Whatever he'd done to her, or she'd done to him to merit their parting of ways in the past clearly hadn't been serious enough to note for later. Marra watches Starn wander past, apparently recruiting for another squad. He'd taken that skillcore that she'd seen first! Granted, there had a surprisingly large number of people going for that skillcore, and it wasn't even her first choice, but it was the principle of the thing. 'Do they just let anyone have a squad?', she wonders aloud. She decides to follow Starn and let Ringo ponder that thought. She couldn't really see herself as a sieger, but knowing who was might be useful information. The fact he calls on Gloff is interesting. That might be worth noting for later. Ah yes, Gloff. She supposes she should make at least a token effort to try and track down the late Bully's belongings. It's not like there's anything of his that she'd want for herself. Unfortunately, she was rather preoccupied to note who had actually taken it, and instead just winds up watching the horde to note who might possibly have a new scarf... Yvonmukluk fucked around with this message at 15:05 on Dec 15, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 15:02
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 Skill 2: Amputation Skill 3: Spinning HP: 1/1 Glory 14 Qwäg's rotary meditation was interrupted by a small, extremely hesitant throat clearing; little more than a marmöt's cough. Tracking the noise with one of her eyes, she saw a wide-eyed hordeling, a scrap of paper clutched in one trembling hand. "F-from N-n-nog-nog--" Qwäg delicately plucked the note from the Töan's fingers before they could stammer themselves to death. She quickly scanned the document with the eye sprouting from her hand, though to the hordeling, it almost certainly seemed as if she hadn't read it at all. With a faintly murmured, "Th̶anķ ̶you̡" to the bewildered messenger, she stalked past them into the camp. Snödis, now, this was something. Qwäg's first impulse upon seeing the state of her Captain, was to look around for bottles, pipes, or other paraphernalia of recreation chemistry; she'd lived with her mother for long enough. She even smelled the air for any whiff of liquor fumes, but her analytical core quickly discerned the matter to be psychological, rather than pharmacological. A mental break, Mög and Göm knew she'd seen enough of those already. Even regressions weren't all that uncommon, but those tended to involve curling into a ball and whimpering, not...was Snödis frolicking? Qwäg frowned. Snödis was already a somewhat unstable narcissist (not necessarily a bad thing in her position), but apparently her problems ran deeper. She wasn't sure if Noggins expected her to apply a bit of logical cold water to the fugued-out officer, but she didn't like the odds of that approach. The wendigo didn't want to inadvertently turn a disassociative episode into outright catatonia; she wasn't an alienist, but the Risk spoke to her, whispering harsh negatives. An alternative, then. Hunching down to a less threatening stature, Qwäg approached, curling her broad mouth into a clownishly-exaggerated smile. "Ś̡ŅU̵̸R҉̶D͏S̵̛," she muttered gently; given the predilections of the person in question, playing up the wendigo affect a little more than was strictly necessary might actually put Snödis at ease, rather than frightening her. "I ͏li̡k͠e̡ ̷y͝our b̀a͝t̴on. Can ̶I h͢ȩl̡p yo͟ù ̡d̢ec͞oraţè ̢ít?" Taking a bit of looted cape, she loosened the fibers with her sharp nails, and began to SPIN them apart, and into a new configuration. Spinning cloth for a battle standard: 1d500+39 343 Perhaps the best way out for Snödis was through. And perhaps Qwäg could briefly be more than a weapon.
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Dec 15, 2017 15:35
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 Jvie posted:"Hey, Dack, Hob, Snödis." He called them over hoping that they'd have a minute. Not that the captain seemed to be paying attention. "It... sure has been a crazy day." She absent mindedly wiped the red Töan blood off her hands. "I just thought I'd like to thank the captain properly for the medal, haha. And the rest of you, good work in the battle back there." Another nervous laugh. "So umm, do any of you play cards? Poker, Go Fish?" Get to know the others in the squad "I've played a little" Hob flipped Agenou off his head and pulled up a log seat, a makeshift table. "I think I seen a pack of cards back at the bar, be right back" Snagging a set without complaints, Hob checked they were all there. Yeah, good, a complete set, butterflies, bees, ants, termites. He shuffled them as he walked back. His mentor had taught him a little, but as a young Töan he had just kept all the bee cards he could get. A poor strategy. Are the suits really called that, or was that just something to interest a kid beekeeper? Never mind, not important. Returning to Agenou, he passed the deck of cards for Trinh to check, and waved to Dack to see if he was joining. As she checked and shuffled, Hob laid out 4 glory and explained what each was (after all, without the meaning behind them they were just empty trinkets). "This is a broken piece of beehive, from when I smashed it to get honey for the runners. This is a dead bee, from when I turned wend-neotype. This is a twist of oricalcum and regentrock alloy, from when I crafted armour. And this is a broken arrow, from fighting Agenou." Hob watched respectfully as Trinh laid out her glory to-OH-GEES WHO'S FINGER BONE IS THAT Proposed Downtime Wendi-gambling posted:1d100 unmodified each, highest wins WereGoat fucked around with this message at 21:25 on Dec 15, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 17:15
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   Gado!!! Skill: HP: 1/2 Glory: 3 Mutation: 3 turns starting next update Gado had been pleased his reports were being disseminated throughout the horde. Sharing his interests with others was always a joy and it took some of the edge off what he'd be going through later that day. It takes a good while for Gado to wake from his trauma induced nap, but once he's recovered some semblance of motor function again he hauls himself off to speak with Grimper about a branding. Unfortunately for the Digger the Warlord had another narrative in mind. Gado disappears into the camp for a time, harried by judgements in some directions and pitying stares from others, Mutation Fever making the private conversations he's overhearing seem much more directly accusatory. After a time he begins to settle down in a thicket outside of the Horde's sight line. In his panic Gado has failed to actually look at the work done under Trinh's care, his hands seem more taut, his fingers extending outward crooked like the claws of the Mad Mole he'd shoved into the guts of a Wendigo. Hours pass as Gado idles by himself, his mind set to the task of burning off some of the restless energy the fever he has been affected by has put into him. It's hard to ignore the wriggling feeling of a Wendigo's Ichor trying to take root, but the way his new hands simply slide through the soil and force it out of the way goes a long way towards fending off intrusive thoughts. The body can only work for so long and eventually Gado stumbles his way back into camp, the last of the fresh soil on his coat crumbling away. Seeing the pile of still unclaimed skill cores Gado shuffles up and gives a few a gentle boot out of the way as he examines what is still available. The Climbing Core reveals itself after a few half-hearted rummages through the pile and Gado releases a bark of slightly maddened laughter, perhaps if no one snatched it out of his hands he'd be able to use it to climb out of the pit he'd dug himself into. At some point Stårn approached Gado with an offer of serving on a sieging squad of sorts, having consigned himself to a life of safer pursuits it certainly seems like a decent faction to join up with, plenty of digging tunnels to be done for siegework. "If I manage to live out the next couple days I'd be happy to join up with your Squad. Hopefully I can pull through this and we can work some magic together." Sighing Gado moves on to his next task, Zapanda had offered to help with his condition, and while Gado didn't exactly trust the mad scientist he didn't have much hope outside of accepting her offer. Humbug was several steps ahead of him it seemed, while Gado was going to try and approach the Sleuth with a repayment plan in exchange for the return of the red and assistance with purchasing the blue, he'd already been covered. Having done everything he can think of that he could achieve, Gado settles down where it's indicated he should be and does his best to follow instructions, filtered from Zapanda through Gryph and Humbug Rampant Monsterism= 3 rounds to live as of next update Looting the Climbing Skillcore=58 Having read what's going on in full changed from doing Healing to Participating in Zapanda's Toan testing on me. 51 Thanks Weregoat for doing my rolls while I was away. Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 00:39 on Dec 18, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 17:19
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Gado!!! Skill: Digging (+35) HP: 2/2 Glory: 3 Hi, I'm Gado, I like digging, scarves, and long walks in the rain. Rampant Monsterism: 1d6+1 3 Digging medical waste pits: 1d100+37 86
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Dec 15, 2017 18:03
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 Trinh WereGoat posted:Proposed Downtime Wendi-gambling Sounds good. I'll probably keep rolls as 1d100 for everyone for consistency. Everyone's free to join up as long as you have 4 Glory to offer. Currently we stand at:
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Dec 15, 2017 19:59
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 The deserters were a problem, one that Portha the Rummager intended to solve. They were all in this together, no matter how bloody and harrowing the experience could be, and people breaking off the Horde put the rest of them at risk. She rounded up a posse and went out to seek them out. Four Töans, one of them whom she knew personally. Such a shame, but it had to be done. At least she knew she'd be thorough. She followed their tracks, still relatively fresh, out of camp. She lost them a few times, but thought she was on the right track. Then they split up, doubtless too ashamed of their cowardice to bear to look at one another any longer. She kept going. The first one was moving slowly, trying to stay hidden. From the enemy, or from her?
(Well done, you caught all of em’! +1 Glory for Portha! The escapees are available to be slammed into the open chairs at the --- Beco the Coward lived up to his name, and yet he had helped take down a Fröman Commander. He shook in remembered terror, but went among the dead and dying Frömen to look for any cowards like he who had managed to avoid death. The brave, naturally, would all be dead. Only cowards were left behind, but even coward’s could help. Why, see his spear? See how it glistened with Agenou’s blood! Yes, it was his blood, definitely, and not mud that had fallen nearby! Lo and behold, there were a handful pretending death among the piles of bodies, weeping silently and piteously. Beco wept right along with them, but it wasn’t all bad, was it? They were alive, after all! They could, as they said, live to fight another day! And why not fight for the winning side? When the alternative was certain death, the coward would always choose the wise path! He was almost surprised when they agreed, letting themselves be taken prisoner. (Beco finds 5 Frömen survivors who are willing to join the Horde! Naturally, Grimper will want to ‘discuss’ a few things with them first…) --- Snorkus the Pigilante could smell evil-doers in the air. That rear entrance! Zounds! Their flank was completely open to attack! He refused to allow his allies to fall prey to perfidious villains who attacked from behind and below! He took up the guard of the tunnel mouth, trusty Pigarang in his hand, and watched, unblinking, for hours. Anything to keep the Horde safe! They’d be coming through the mine gate any minute now, and he’d be ready for them.  Aaaany minute now. (No they won’t they did a frontal assault, but good hustle!) --- Grimper was just staring at a bottle when they found him, sitting cross legged and hunched amid a pile of broken bottles just like it. He glanced up at them as they walked in and snorted. “Is a bottle any use when it's empty? Really, a bottle is only its contents. Once that's gone,” he blew a raspberry, “it's just a shape.” He flicked his eyes towards his stump, then dropped the bottle from shoulder height, letting it shatter. “Let me guess - you’re here for stories. Let me guess again - you want to know what was up with that rigamarole with Agenou’s guts? Hmm? Fine, let’s talk. Warlords - and Commanders - have more Skillcores than the rest of you. I think one of you tried to take in a fourth; moron. I warned you against it and now you’re Destabilized. It’ll wear off, but you can’t just fill yourself up with Cores. If you tried really hard to hold it in, refused to let the Destabilization force you to drop it, you’d just end up Corrupt, like if we screwed up a Ritual. Not pretty, not fun. Nothing as glamorous as those Wendigos strutting around. Don’t try it in my sight, I’m already sick enough of looking at you as you already are.” He stood up suddenly, tearing a hole in the low ceiling of the destroyed bar. He walked forward as though he was walking through underbrush, leaving a Grimper-shaped outline in walls and floors until he was on the streets of Fostis once again. He picked up an iron pole, heated it red-hot in his good hand, and drew on the sandy street. “His core looked like this, right?” He drew ten circles around an empty, central space. “Each of these circles was a Core, a developed one. And here, right in the middle?” He slashed a complex symbol, glassing the dirt under the heat and speed of it. Once it was complete it was difficult to look at - something about it made the Horde’s eyes swim. “This thing was the Unity Lattice. An artificial device implanted when he was chosen to become a Commander - just as I had one implanted when I became a Warlord - that among other things allows him to wield ten Cores. With it, they each become more than the sum of their parts, and over years of training they made him ‘big and strong’, as you’d say. The Lattice ends up imprinted with a particular specialty - in this case 'Dancing'. Disgusting.” “It’s more complicated than that, of course. Not everyone is suited to be a Warlord. The Cores chosen matter, too. In Frö, they tend to be more… permissive about the end results of their Commanders. If you can believe it, some of them chose to specialize in mundane crap like Carpentry or Statesmanship. No use in a battle, naturally, which is why those cowards are back in their capital getting crushed by our glorious armies! Warlords? Warlords are built for war. For breaking. For Breaking. I am a living weapon, and each of my twenty Cores was specially selected and grown by the Royal Authority to ensure consistency across the other twenty Warlords!” He raised his arms reverently as he spoke, then trailed off before continuing ruefully, his eyes hard and bitter. “Yes, twenty Cores… and yes, the number doesn’t necessarily map to more power, as my skirmish with Agenou showed. But he’s dead, and I’m not. I killed him, finally, and stole his Lattice for myself. A portion of his power lingers in my belly, ready to be released at my will, and at no further cost to me. Other Commanders we should encounter will steer clear of me, knowing this, because they do not wish the shame of being crushed by the stolen spirit of their former brother. Too bad. I will kill them as they come for us, and I will take their power for myself!” He was shaking now, flaming spittle flying from his lips. He blinked suddenly, as though waking from a dream, then walked off without another word. He had a Ritual to prepare, after all. (Downtime resolved next week - including that Nail Ritual - but keep filling the slots in the table, unless you want to put some poor Mook in there!) Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 21:30 on Dec 15, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 21:24
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Alright, onto the fun stuff - DRAWING! Here's the missing portraits for our newbies:   Gradually working on portrait updates for the other million folks, including random armors on our Mooks so our first post doesn't have a bunch of naked dudes anymore! edit: Assorted updates to items too:        
Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 22:35 on Dec 15, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 21:52
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    /// Cosmetic Items: ///  Name: Gabber Skill: Mimicry {cool down}, Listening++ (using), Night Vision HP: 3/3 Glory: 12 Dog Kisser posted:“Let me guess - you’re here for stories. Let me guess again - you want to know what was up with that rigamarole with Agenou’s guts? Hmm? Fine, let’s talk. Warlords - and Commanders - have more Skillcores than the rest of you. I think one of you tried to take in a fourth; moron. I warned you against it and now you’re Destabilized. It’ll wear off, but you can’t just fill yourself up with Cores. If you tried really hard to hold it in, refused to let the Destabilization force you to drop it, you’d just end up Corrupt, like if we screwed up a Ritual. Not pretty, not fun. Nothing as glamorous as those Wendigos strutting around. Don’t try it in my sight, I’m already sick enough of looking at you as you already are.” Hearing the Warlord's words on multiple cores....Gabber was now worried. The Warlord seemed to be indicating that if anyone of the rank and file tried to consume a 4th skillcore, the results could go one of two ways - Destabilization, or Corruption. He clearly meant Ringo when he mentioned some moron inhaling a fourth, the Lockpick's attempt having resulted in a very public display of half-digested Agenou cake getting spewed everywhere. Gabber, despite his minor bout of hearing voices, felt fine now. He clearly wasn't destabilized - but did that mean he was Corrupted? When Grimper walked outside to continue his speech, Gabber hastily made a quick exit the opposite way, towards Magda. There was no way he was asking the Warlord for clarification and outing himself publicly as a moron, so the next best bet was Magda. The Nagel scientists might have been more help, and he'd go to them if Magda was clueless, but he didn't trust an unailed Zapanda to be honest with him. Reaching the Nailsmith's wagon, Gabber helped himself to some nearby loose parchment and writing utensils. As Magda watched, he began furiously writing out his question for her. After several minutes of painstaking effort which she surely was getting tired of waiting for, he handed over his piece of parchment, and looked at her with worried eyes:  He couldn't be any clearer about what was going on! During Downtime, Ask Magda if she can explain why Gabber took in a fourth skillcore and isn't Destabilized or Corrupted! yes I can draw better than that yes it is supposed to be intentionally lovely Task Manager fucked around with this message at 23:04 on Dec 15, 2017 |
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Dec 15, 2017 22:36
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   Name: Dack Skills: A̵̕t̷͢͡͏̡h̷͟͡͏ļ̵̶̧̀ę̷̢͡t̨̧͘i̵̕҉̴͡c̢͘͜͠s͏̨́̕, Ą̀͠c̵̢͡͠͏r̴̸̛͝͡o͘͢͜͡b͜à̵̡̕t̷̢̀͜i̸̸͞c͘͟s̀͜͟, Laughing +25 HP: 1 Glory: 18>19 [Risking 4 on gambling]  ...Dack may not be smart, but even he knows that Grimper would probably be very, very upset if he knew Dack had...whatever this is. But wait, could he just give it back? No, Grimper was incredibly drunk by this point, and Dack likely wouldn't have enough time to explain himself if he just walked up to the Warlord with the thing. Which meant Dack needed to find a way to hide this gizmo now. He tried to force himself to calm down, after all, it's not like anyone ever approached him even before he was a Wendigo, so he should have plenty of- WereGoat posted:
Dack almost jumps as hard as he can when Hob sneaks up on him, but manages to restrain himself at the last moment, instead only making a small hop. Everything's still fine, it's just another member of the Neötype Sqaudron. And also a giant skull, which didn't really bother Dack as much as it should have. He did try to loot part of a Warlord's body too, so Hob's line of thinking made sense to him. Even if Dack could talk (can he talk?) he wouldn't be able to keep up with the Beekeeper's rapid fire questions, but at least in the end Dack now had a shield. An idea pops into the Athlete's head, and he quickly hides the mechanism under the shield before strapping it to his back like Hob suggested. That should keep it hidden for now, although that still left the question of what to do with it. Actually, he was part of a squad, right? So why not trust the Captain and have her figure out what to- Actually, maybe he should just take some time to figure this out on his own. Yeah, that's a much better plan. Actually, there was that colbaltwing everyone had been feeding earlier. It probably wasn't a smart idea, but feeding the creature the weird thing would at least get Dack off the hook. But before he could decide on whether or not feeding a mysterious artifact to a creature he knew nothing about was better or worse than letting Grimper see he had it, someone else called out to Dack. Jvie posted:
Dack really wanted to refuse. Not because he wanted to be rid of the tablet as soon as possible, or because he was nervous about hanging out with others, or because he was against gambling. He wanted to refuse because he was the absolute worse at any form of gambling. His entire life he had trouble actually communicating to people, but put some cards in his hand and suddenly everyone could read him like an open book. But as Hob also tries to get Dack to play, he feels it would be rude to just walk away. Well, maybe being a Wendigo made it harder for others to read him? Sitting down with the others, he matches Hob's bet and tries to put on a neutral face as he looks at his cards. ______________ Hob's rules are fine with me, and I'll also throw in 4 glory to the pile. And I'm also fine if people vote to feed the Strange Mechanism to Flutter. ______________ Regardless of how the game goes, Dack had a feeling of intense joy spreading out through his chest. It was confusing at first, surely just hanging out with two other members of his squad wouldn't affect him that much, right? But then he remembers Snödis, and it suddenly dawns on him: the Laughing core. Dack's head is slammed with blurry memories of someone (possibly the enemy Commander) hanging out with some Fröman soldiers, telling them stories in a way that was similar to Grimper's story time, but also different. The person wasn't drunk for one, and he didn't throw anything at anyone, and he was even careful to not stand up to full height so he didn't destroy the building he was in. Which didn't make much sense to Dack, but then maybe that's why Agenou's skull was just a few feet away. By now the feeling in his chest is too much to contain, so he vents in the only way he can think of: laughing. Not giggling or snickering, a full-on belly laugh. There's probably some people who're staring at the strange Wendigo laughing his head off, but Dack doesn't notice. Even as Agenou's infuence starts to fade away and Dack's own cores begin to reassert themselves, he can't help but laugh. Maybe the laughing would help others relax, or maybe they'd join in and laugh at the scene of a trio of Wendigoes playing cards while the skull of Agenou watches, or maybe it'll help others realize they just had their first actual battle against another army led by a Commander and won. But really, Dack just wanted to laugh because he felt like laughing. ______________ Just gonna Laugh over here for no reason: 491. I have no clue what mechanical effect this roll could possibly have, and I'm fine if it does nothing.
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Dec 16, 2017 00:20
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Hi folks, just doing a little housekeeping of players' Downtime actions here. Hopefully this post will help some of you to get a better handle on how downtime works!Cast_No_Shadow posted:Pog The What ^^^ Cast_No_Shadow/Pog, you're rolling for too many things this round! Using your Sighing skillcore is all well and good, but unless you're actually trying to achieve something beneficial with that Sighing roll then you're better off not rolling for it! Also, the Agenou Cape Sashes are free to take (so be sure to thank Sucy)! gowb posted:Vist ^^^ Gowb/Vist, I know we talked about this on the Discord but I wanted to make sure that the ruling made its way into the thread. The official word of Dog Kisser is that each person gets one (1) skillcore roll per round when skillcores are available. You can't sacrifice your downtime action to try for a second skillcore roll. You CAN, however, use your Downtime Action+Glory+Skill to to rummage around for items that may be of use to you. vorebane posted:Cause ^^^ Vorebane/Cause, you're also rolling for too many things! Cooking and Foraging are both incredibly similar downtime actions that essentially achieve the same effect. In cases like these, it's the first roll that will get used. Question: did you want to Preserve the Ration with your Cooking/Foraging, or did you want to add a different Cooking effect? Lone Goat posted:Somnö ^^^ Lone Goat/Somnö, you're also rolling for too many things! This round, it's been a single Downtime Action and a single Skillcore Roll only - there's simply no more loot left to grab*! Thankfully, what you're asking for is a cosmetic change to an existing armor, so I'm sure Dog Kisser will have you covered! * Aside from the following dropped items, which are still up for grabs:  x1,  x1,  x1, x1,  x1Also, last but certainly not least:  Looted Items!Dog Kisser ruled that anyone who tried to loot a mundane item last round (bows/shields/garb/etc) successfully received one if they rolled above 20! That means: Hat looted a String-Slayer's Garb. Gigs, Bork, and Portha each looted a Bowharp. Cause looted a War Drum. Grumbus looted a Tuned Shield. Noggins looted an Arrow Flatpack. Lux Anima fucked around with this message at 01:43 on Dec 16, 2017 |
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Dec 16, 2017 00:38
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Prince of Space posted:Hi folks, just doing a little housekeeping of players' Downtime actions here. Hopefully this post will help some of you to get a better handle on how downtime works! Prince of Space, you're all sorts of awesome for this thread, thanks for the cool art and the bookkeeping!
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Dec 16, 2017 01:39
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  HP:3 Glory:27 Lying Charm +25 Ritual Glory:0 He thanked Hat for her kind words: It was gratifying to have one so well versed with needle and thread affirm that his efforts had not been in vain. He accentuated his appearance with one of Sucy's sashes, making sure to acknowledge the hard work of the Mushroomier and give due credit. Seeing the success of the brave Beco, he opted to turn on the charm and see if he could round up any more of the survivors. Charm to track down and beguile former Agenou Troupers into the Unexpectable Horde: 102! Should he obtain any recruits, he would proceed to lead them to Grimper. If he could subsequently get a moment with the Breaker, "Warlord, the successes of the Neötype Squadron, together with the creation of Siege Team Six and The Order of the Nail are something of an inspiration. A number of the Horde have proven very adept at tricking the enemy and strengthening the forces under your command as a result. Those on the mission that enabled us to equip the horde with the weapons meant to Fostis, those who were able to recruit our former foes as turncoats, those whowere able to get useful information on the enemy through interrogation, discussion or subterfuge, those who were able to sow panic and discord in the foe as we bested Agenou and his Troupe. If it pleases you, I respectfully request your leave to form a team of Infiltrators, those who have proven adept at sapping our enemies strength and adding it to our own one way or another." Later, if he had the opportunity, he sought out Zapanda. "I heard what you said upon the field. You're right. It is a terrible tragedy that those who dedicated their lives to culture and to the betterment and entertainment of others were snuffed out when Agenou's Troupe sought battle with Grimper's Unexpectable Horde. That people who in peacetime could greatly contribute to culture and joy could be forever silenced, forever lost to us all. People like Bully. He was an orator, and his words could bring you to despondent tears or rapturous joy, could convince peöple by the dozens to take up common cause with him. Agenou ground him underfoot like an uncultured savage muddily tramping on a book of poetry. People like Harlee, who dedicated her life to japery and merriment, who challenged the Dancer to a dance only to have the brutish thug kick her so hard she exploded. War is tragedy upon tragedy, the loss of so much that is of worth and of potential. But your words ring utterly hollow if you only see those who share your nation of origin as worthy of mourning." Finally, he heard word that some in the Horde were engaging of games of chance. They knew of him by now, and the appellation of 'Splut the Bluffer' was itself a dead giveaway in terms of 'people to not gamble with', but perhaps they needed a dealer... AJ_Impy fucked around with this message at 10:19 on Dec 18, 2017 |
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Dec 16, 2017 03:46
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Splut posted:Finally, he heard word that some in the Horde were engaging of games of chance. They knew of him by now, and the appellation of 'Splut the Bluffer' was itself a dead giveaway in terms of 'people to not gamble with', but perhaps they needed a dealer... 
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Dec 16, 2017 08:33
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Burnie Equipment: Froman Cuirass, Froman Sword, Tuned Shield Skill: Cooking, HP: 3/3 Glory: 2 After his fire had gone out, Burnie started following the more important hordlings around, convinced that inspiration would strike him. He got attached to the siege group, and pitched in with their project. But, when he saw that there were still empty seats in the Old Guy's Vault, he knew that was the chance he'd been waiting for! I'll take a dancing core if there's any left. Looting!: 1d100+2 67 Sit in Vile Mechanism Chair 8, X-TREME CHAIR SITTING: 1d100+2 75 Siege construction: 1d100+2 50 Capfalcon fucked around with this message at 17:37 on Dec 19, 2017 |
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Dec 16, 2017 18:56
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Chair sitters - make sure you give me an extra 1d100 when you sit!
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Dec 16, 2017 19:53
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Name: Stårn Additional skills: Butterfly Beastmaster, Timing +25 HP: 3 Glory: 26 -> 27 "Now listen up, maggots", Stårn stated with newfound authority that had rapidly risen to his head as he paced around a gaggle of loafing mooks, "I've seen you lot stand around, being generally unhelpful at camp. But no more! Not when Captain Stårn is around. I'm organizing you into a working party." A handful of groans could be heard. "No whining! You will invest your time for the sake of better Sieging instead of wasting it! In that you will be building an Önäger for Siege Team Six to use. Scavenge for supplies, and look carefully what I am about to show you", Stårn showed the mooks his Tiny Önäger, all the parts that made it up, and how to properly scale it up. Each one was granted a punctual schedule too. "And don't lollygag around, I keep a tight schedule." ***** At camp, whispers and grumbling among the Horde had been fairly unanimous among those who voiced opinion at all: it would be really funny to feed the Cobaltwing some Grimper bits. And Stårn really couldn't disagree with that. However, there was a slight problem in that the hand itself had already burned to so much ashes, which Stårn refused to feed his little baby. However, he had heard some idle rumor that Dack might be in possession of what little was left of him. And taken that he had not told anyone about it, it seemed like he didn't want the Warlord to find out. Sensible. Maybe he should help the poor Wendigo out? "Psst, hey", Stårn told the wendigo, having snuck up behind him in a way that was very conspicuous in how inconspicuous it tried to seem, "So I heard", he shifted his eyes first to the left, then to the right, in a way that was extremely shifty and very conspiratorial in appearance, "That you might have something you don't really want to have, yes? You know, I could get rid of that for you. For the sake of better Sieging and better Butterflies. Sound good?" Stårn grinned widely, staring at the Wendigo. He didn't seem overtly concerned about the card game he was interrupting. Stårn was not very good at being discreet. Timing to organize a tight working party of Mooks to make Siege Team Six cosmetic item: golden epaulettes with a 6 pictured on the left field, and a likeness of the Ram on the right field, and cool fringes like epaulettes are supposed to have. My other roll this round posted:Trying to loot a Kicking skillcore for Sucy: 1d100=83 Also, Feeding the Cobaltwing GRIMPER BITS seems to be crushing the vote, so we're feeding it the Strange Mechanism (I believe Astus already consented to this on Discord). Cobaltwing Breakerfly is a go
Theantero fucked around with this message at 01:17 on Dec 17, 2017 |
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Dec 16, 2017 20:37
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Without getting too spoilery about anything, I'll mention that I somehow didn't consider you'd feed that to the butterfly! This isn't a gotcha or an 'oh poo poo' on my part, it's more like an 'oh right, I guess they could do that'. You guys are fun. Working on portrait updating for the foreseeable future, update coming this week. Probably the following week I'll take off for Christmas stuff, but I'll try to leave you a suitable cliffhanger... And a weird silly art piece I'm working on to bring in the new year!
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Dec 16, 2017 21:13
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Dog Kisser posted:I somehow didn't consider You keep making this mistake. I hope you never learn 
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Dec 16, 2017 21:17
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Dog Kisser posted:--- Ha, this is incredible, thank you! I edited actions and rolls into my previous post.
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Dec 16, 2017 22:01
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Looking forward to Grimper’s new battlesteed.
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Dec 16, 2017 22:39
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   Cosmetic: Name: Hob HP 1/1 Glory: (4 being gambled) 8>4>0 Ritual Glory : 1 Skill: B̴̷̛́̀é̸̡͠è̴̛͞ ̶͜Ķ̕e͝͡è̢̢̡̨p̵̢̛҉͞i͏͠ń̷̡g̷͘͝, Contortion (in use), Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛(cooldown) After the game, Hob was buzzing. And not just literally this time! "That was great fun, best idea Trinh, yeah. Good game Dack. Thanks for dealing Splut, maybe we can get a game in next time?" Transfer 4 glory as a thank you to Splut "Hey guys, could you watch this for me for a bit? Hands are pretty full with old Agenou here, I'll get it off you next game" Transfer remaing glory to Trinh and Dack, 1/2 each, for "safekeeping" Giving three thumbs up to everyone, Hob flips Agenou back onto his head and turns. The skull wobbles for a moment, before falling and rolling down the street a short way. One hand shoots out of the skull's eye-hole, giving thumbs up again. "I'm OK!" Picking himself up, weaving through the town, wandering up the hill, dragging Agenou through the mine, Hob made his way to the oh-gee vault. He wasn't just feeling good, he was feeling lucky. Most of the seats were filled already, so, setting the skull down as an impartial observer, Hob sat down in the one closest to him. Hob claims seat 5 at the table. Slightly intoxicated from the gambling table, Hob smiles cheerfully at the others sat around, forgetting momentarily about his appearance. Before enthusiastically- "Lets do this!" - Hob puts his hand out onto the table. Vile mechanism: 1d100 78 WereGoat fucked around with this message at 23:22 on Dec 16, 2017 |
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Dec 16, 2017 22:59
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Trinh
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Dec 17, 2017 00:45
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Dog Kisser posted:Working on portrait updating for the foreseeable future, update coming this week. Probably the following week I'll take off for Christmas stuff, but I'll try to leave you a suitable cliffhanger... And a weird silly art piece I'm working on to bring in the new year! Thanks for the awesome game so far DK!! And I swear, if you hurt a hair on Bamboo's head . . . I'm going to be all sorts of Blue Christmas. Let that sit on your SOUL!!! 
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Dec 17, 2017 01:18
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 Name: Trinh Skills: taxidermy(+50, corrupted, cd), jumping, Dodging(+25) HP: 1/1 Glory: 21 After the game Trinh roamed the campsite in high spirits. The only thing that could have made the day better would have been if- There it was. An uneaten platter of cake. She couldn't even remember the last time she had eaten anything but plain army rations, and now that there had been a cake she had only gotten a tiny, tiny piece. At least that's two tiny pieces now. Stårn posted:"And don't lollygag around, I keep a tight schedule." Jump on onager arm: 1d500+10+21 381 --- Everything was well but Trinh couldn't stop wondering where Gawp was... Jvie fucked around with this message at 23:58 on Dec 22, 2017 |
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Dec 17, 2017 01:51
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HP:3 Glory:31 Lying Charm +25 Ritual Glory:0 He exchanged pleasantries with the three Wendigoes as the game ended, gratified to see them enjoying themselves and determined to treat them all as the equal hordemates that they should be considered as, no matter the barbed words of some and the fear of others. He nodded graciously to Hob as the living hive bestowed a stipend of Glory, but on being asked to play next time, "As much as I'd love to, it needs to be a level playing field, a fair game, equal for all players, and not only do I have the potential to warp that, it would be impossible to tell if I was or not. I will not bilk or cheat any member of the horde, wittingly or unwittingly, for much the same reasons as I joined up in the first place. I'm always happy to help, might even run some lessons on techniques for everyone, but playing against me is a bad idea for all involved. Unless I'm playing against our enemy, that is." AJ_Impy fucked around with this message at 10:17 on Dec 18, 2017 |
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Dec 17, 2017 04:07
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paper bag with a face posted:"HEY SHITBARN I SAW THAT FUCKIN' THING FIRST, FRIG OFF" 
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Dec 17, 2017 19:36
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  Name: Gloff Skills:Lifting+(used), Swimming, Smithing(used) HP: 2 Glory: 17 Nodding contently at the finished armor, Gloff gives a firm handshake to everyone who worked on it. A fine piece of craftstöship, if unconventional. Yvonmukluk posted:'Hey, Gloff. Had any luck tracking down I realise you're busy and all, but I was sort of thinking-' she holds up her knife '-this doesn't really cut it (no pun intended), does it? I'm familiar with knives, this is...serviceable, but really, I need an upgrade. I've heard about special knives, made special for stabbing, could you maybe make me one?' Gloff grunts in confirmation. "My core is exhausted for now, I'll see what I can do when there's time. I have a scarf to trade for Bully's, if you need it." Theantero posted:Stårn sauntered over to the forge, giving the heavy-set Töan within a nod. "Gloff", he begun, "We have a Siege Team now, Warlord's orders. And that means a bunch of heavy equipment that needs making, maintaining, and of course lifting. A strong tö with the skills we require, you would be a most welcome addition to our efforts. Our efforts for ever stronger Sieging techniques. Think about it, will you?" Gloff nods in acknowledgement. He's wait and see who else joined the squad. I could get unpleasant if a wendigo, or worse, Grumbus took part. - Entering the chamber, Gloff nods at those gathered. Risktakers all, but perhaps oppertunity as well. They'd see soon enough, now that all chairs were filled. Sitting in seat 6. Vile Mechanism: 1d100 23
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Dec 18, 2017 00:51
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    Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Precision, Aiming HP: 3 Glory: 36->37 (+2 Glory from Vist, +4 from Pythag, +2 from Sucy (I assume)) Ritual Glory: 0->4 With Qwäg keeping Snödis entertained for the moment, Noggins excused herself to handle a responsibility she'd been putting off. There'd been a battle, there'd been fatalities. It wasn't a pleasant fact to face, but if she didn't do it now, who would? They couldn't just allow themselves to forget the fallen.  Gawp's sign she'd had ready for some time now, ever since Nägel. After Qwäg's branding, she'd made sure to get the infected all sketched out before... well, before the brand disfigured them, or the disease warped them further. Snödis would probably disagree, but Noggins felt that it was the best state to remember them by. Those signs largely sat unused, of course--the transformation hadn't proved as lethal as Grimper had warned, but it was best to be prepared.  Bully was a bit difficult. He'd had a bad case of Slinker Pox ever since the first time they were in Fostis, and that definitely wasn't the best way to portray someone, so she wound up relying heavily on vague memories. And then his skillcores had been a touch on the abstract side. Well, Climbing was pretty concrete, but it wasn't especially easy to represent simply.  Harlee was the sign she was least satisfied with. Somehow, no matter what she did, it just didn't come out right. She hadn't had long to get to know the Fröwoman, but in that brief time, she'd certainly showed herself to be quite good-natured. But when Noggins tried to paint her, it came out... was it just too gaunt? Were those distinctive eyes just a little off? There was some detail that she couldn't seem to capture. Well, it would have to do. She wasn't exactly a practiced portrait artist, after all, and given the circumstances she really hoped she didn't end up as one.  Finally, there was Cornbread. What had happened to Cornbread? The word around the camp was that he was dead, but nobody seemed to be able to say who he'd fallen against. Had Agenou simply stepped on him at some point? Noggins wasn't really sure how she felt. On the one hand, losing an ally stung. But on the other hand... well, Cornbread. She didn't particularly like the part of her that felt relieved that he was no longer around, but she couldn't deny it was there. As she hung the signs, Noggins swung by the medics, grimacing at the number of injured. She should have helped, but... there was just so much that needed to be done. Even now, she really should be getting back to Snödis. Still it shouldn't take long to find... ah, there. "Gryph! I know you're busy, I won't keep you. But I saw you picked up a bow, and I thought you might want a quiver to go with it. We really can't let you be getting injured, after all. Stay safe!" That done, Noggins headed back to her fellow captain. Hopefully the 'sleepover' was still going well. Giving the Arrow Flatpack I picked up to Gryph
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Dec 18, 2017 06:09
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 With the potion nearly done, Portha decided it was time to collect a sample and figure out if it could be used as a combat drug or a poison. Since she'd managed to capture the deserters, it only seemed right that one of them be used for her experiments. Time to ask for a "volunteer" to help with poison testing.
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Dec 18, 2017 10:09
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  Skills:Spreading Disease[CD], Cursing HP: 2/3 Glory: 3 "Yeah, okay, I'll hang with your siege krew.", Grumbus replied to Stårn, "I've hung out with weirder. I dunno about depopulatin' places since those jerks from Health and Safety took all the really bad stuff from my collection before they conscripted me, but, uh, I'll see what I can do." Grumbus spent the rest of downtime helping his new boss (sub-boss?) build a siege device. He really didn't know much about sieging, but his profanity laden tirades kept the mooks from slacking off! Cursing to keep Stårn's mook krew motivated and working hard: 1d100+13 = 42
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Dec 19, 2017 02:38
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