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     Squad: Infiltration Skill: Sleuthing +20 (used), Watching +20 (using). HP: 3/3 Glory: 9 ----> 10 "Hmm..." Humbug commented to himself, frowning at the furore and the clamor as numerous people raised their arms and armour and raced to their mounts and horses and pig-boar charges. He'd manage to put himself in a position to survey most of the battlefield. Jaune the Wall was moving to face Grimper. Forgemaster Pendelo was being duelled by Ringo--and hot drat, was that a pitch-perfect 'come hither' whistle? Meanwhile, the Knights of Öxnyard and their War Boars were quick to mount and charge, attacking the Unexpectables still out in the fields. Worse, the Soldiers of Öxnyard were Fighting Fit and had numbers on their side - as the Many-Stepped Plan hadn't really done anything to weaken their defenses or forces. Things weren't looking too good for the Unexpectables, despite the drop they had on the enemy. He could, of course, leave all of this behind. Grab Hat's disguise, Snödis' forgery and take that damned horse poison pill to Noostra to spread some panic and misery. There he would be free of the Horde, free to do some snooping around, maybe investigate the Frömen angle on the Queen's Assassination. Assuming he wasn't caught, assuming there was an army to lay siege to it still after this battle. There probably would be - as long as Grimper and Magda survived they'd just keep Nailbinding more Frömen - grab some more clean slates and pit them against their countrymen until one side ran out of luck or bodies or Nails. He could escape for a little while, pursue his own interests, away from the watchful eye of Grimper. He shook his head, grimacing. He would not do it. It was not right - the niggling feeling he'd built during his tenure in the Watch screamed as much. He might've aided and abetted the Plan - but there was no way he could lead a Wendigo vector to Noostra. He stayed where he was, watching for the perfect moment to interfere, for his cue to step in. After all... nature abhorred a vacuum, and with Jaune, Pendelo, the Stablemaster and the Tö leader taken care of or already busy, the Öxnyardites were stepping on each others' toes, all ready and angry and so, very, very undirected. The rank and file soldiers weren't the brightest or strongest, but they were plentiful - and Humbug knew the power of weight of numbers, as long as they turned their attention on the right thing. To blunt their response time, to distract them, split them up, he'd have to keep a careful watch to step in at a right moment, with the right group of rudderless soldiers, to nudge them in the right direction. Like, that group, charging up the streets. He ran towards them, waved his arms and hollered at them, pointing southwards, a tone of authority to his voice. "What are you doing?! We've been encircled! The Unexpectables will be coming around from the back of town - Noostra's direction! Someone needs to shore up the southern flank!" he shouted at the leaderless soldiery. If he could get soldiers out of position in relation to the rest of the fight... he grit his teeth and ran past them, heading through town. Sabotaging 'A Whole Bunch More Guys' by watching for the right moment to step in and interfere with their command structure and shout contradictory orders and intel. Watching for the perfect moment to step in 1d100+29+10 (order) 67
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Jan 11, 2018 18:58
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Potrait:      Naim: Mason Skillz: Mason Hootin' an' Hollerin' +15 Mason MasonryMasonFlailing +25 HeeP: Mason Mason Mason Glury: Masonx22 -> 23 Mason Hollerin' on the Önäger!: 1d100+48 102
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Jan 11, 2018 19:29
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    Gado!!! Skill: Digging (+35- avaliable next turn) Climbing (+10) HP: 1/2 Glory: 6->7 Mutation Countdown: [ ] [ ] [ ] At Starn's declaration of a target Gado leaps into action. Siege Team Six hadn't exactly done drills with the Onager, nor really had any idea on how to operate the strange fragile siege weapon, but doing things on the fly was The Unexpectable way and the Digger was happy to do his part. Tightening his grip on the pick he'd been gifted, Gado goes to town on a nearby boulder, smashing away the excess stone to make a more appropriately shaped piece of ammunition for the Onager's maiden firing. quote:Mining up some ammo to fire at the boars via Onager- Spending Mining pick+glory+orders=72
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Jan 11, 2018 19:31
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      Name: Portha Skills: Rummaging, Cleaning, Imagining (in use) HP: 3/3 Glory: 14 The pigs were on the move. Ham for dinner. Strips of bacon for breakfast. Porkchop sandwiches for lunch after that. They'd be fed for a long time. There was one big boar that looked extra tasty. Portha ran off on her own and lined up a shot, thinking about dinner. Solo action: snipe the biggest tastiest boar: 1d100+29+10 113 e: forgot to add the banner bonus to the math. super sweet best pal fucked around with this message at 04:16 on Jan 13, 2018 |
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Jan 11, 2018 20:01
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Updated portraits in first post with a bunch of new stuff, so if you got new stuff that would show up in a portrait go get it! Also here's some item cards that I don't have a better place for:   edit:also added a picture (two pictures, actually) of Jaune if you want to see who you're going to be beating up soon! Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 22:29 on Jan 11, 2018 |
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Jan 11, 2018 21:51
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     HP: 3/3 Glory: 4 -> 5 Skill: Jousting+15 (on CD), Guarding+10, Balance+10 Eager to put her new armor to the test, Vist charges the warboars hungrily, her lance held straight ahead and her eyes peering wildly from beneath her visor as she looks for a chance to mount one of the fearsome beasts and bend it to her will. With a warboar she would be both HUGE and SCINTILLENT, fulfilling two of the Virtues of the Long at once and blinding her enemies with her brightness. She would do it! Charge the Warboars - It's Time to Ride!: 1d100+4+15 33 Trying to mount a warboar and tame it.
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Jan 11, 2018 22:09
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     Name: Jö, the Nailed Fostis Butcher Skills: Butchery, Impatience (Using), Clouting (CD) HP:3/3 Glory: 3 > 4 (???) Roll Modifiers: -10 all rolls Must obey all orders: Immune to orders from Hob Items: -Shield of Meat (free Fostis caravan, iron shield as stand in) -Drum (Battle loot) -Froman Sword +1 -Belmysut Guard Uniform +1 Jö was terrified. He had been looking around at all the animals near him for quite a while when a bunch of nice Fröman militia from the Oxynyard garrison came out, yelling about an evil, rampaging, genocidal army attacking the town! He ran towards town, and he ran fast. Jö didn't want to be anywhere near this army when they fought the militia. He was a butcher, not a militia member or hordeling! There noise of the animals was too much, and he couldn't hear anything. All he knew to do was run. Suddenly, a Commander appeared out of the gloom. He felt a ping of familiarity. Hadn't he seen here before? Sold her meat from his shop a few times in the past? She would know what to do! He ran at her, yelling for attention, for her to save him! His forehead started pounding more and more as he got closer, sharp pain lancing through his brain. But he couldn't stop. He wanted to see her. Wanted to ask her for help. He was out of patience. He was tired, scared and alone in the middle of a battlefield and his head hurt. Why couldn't he get there faster?! He didn't feel his arm moving by itself, drawing his sword. Jö also didn't feel his shield get taken off his back or hear his mouth screaming a war cry. All he felt was pain; he hoped that The Commander could help him, save him. If anyone could, it was her. He head hurt so much. Commander! Save him, kill him, or... die?!: 1d100-10+10+1+3 26 Will Commander Jaune the Wall notice that Jö is enslaved and needs help? Will she just murder him as an enemy? Will Jö stab her from mind control? Who knows? I don't! Is a 26 good or bad in this case :vv:
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Jan 12, 2018 00:38
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 Raaaar! WereGoat fucked around with this message at 16:55 on Jan 12, 2018 |
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Jan 12, 2018 00:40
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   HP: 3 Glory:2 Skill: Angry screeds (using) Spanks awoke with a start, mid-charge. Wha... wh... how... was I a mook?!? WHY DID NOBODY WAKE ME UP?! HEY! HEY! I'M TALKING TO YOU PIGFUCKER! Action: Angrily plink at the Forgemaster: 1d100+14 30 Crazycryodude fucked around with this message at 05:05 on Jan 12, 2018 |
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Jan 12, 2018 03:32
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WereGoat posted:Eeeh, colours washed out, will scan and reupload tomorrow but  I love it so much it is fantastic! 
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Jan 12, 2018 03:40
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    Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Precision, Aiming (in use), Leadership (Unconsumed) HP: 3 Glory: 40->41 Ritual Glory: 4 It was the most intense and complicated rush of emotion that Noggins had ever felt. At first, as she was led inside, there was an almost religious reverence. She was no blacksmith, but she had a craftsman's eye for quality, and clearly so did whoever was in charge here. Not just the smith to whom the shop normally belonged, although they clearly had a deep and abiding love for the place, but whoever had lead the conversion effort as well. It wasn't fancy--it conspicuously wasn't fancy--it was perfect. Joints and fittings, the very very guts of the building were on full display, and every single one was achingly beautiful in its precision. "Look at me," the walls seemed to say "This mortar is going to hold for hundreds of years. You couldn't fit a piece of paper between these boards. I could have been built yesterday, but you know I wasn't. I could have been built yesterday long before you were around, and I could have been built yesterday long after you're gone." The tools and weapons being worked on spoke the exact same story. It was all she could do to focus on her story and not request a magnifying glass and a paper to take notes. There was the relief that her story had passed inspection, disappointment that her armor could not be repaired in the time she had--if you wanted something done right, it would take time, how could she have forgotten--and then an elation that turned into fear as Jaune stepped in. She was, unmistakably, a Commander. Not as big as Grimper was, or as Agenou had been, but too large to be anything else. Noggins had come to know--as had most of the Horde, to varying degrees--that Grimper could see more than a normal Tö could understand. What if Jaune saw right through her? Even with Nailbreaker, it would clearly be hopeless. This had been a mistake, a terrible greedy mist-- Shock and pride soon followed. Jaune believed in her. Grimper had recognized her as a useful asset, a leader to delegate to, but Jaune understood. She had looked deep into Noggins' very core, and approved. Noggins was about to thank her, to try and give voice to what she was feeling, but her mouth was soon left slack with awe. Watching the fight back at Fostis had been one thing. Yes, Warlords had access to truly incredible destructive power. But destruction scaled easily. There were swords, there were siege weapons, there were explosions... it was easy to accept something more destructive than what you had seen before. But to see something created at impossible speeds... and made well at that... There were just no words. Noggins bowed in thanks--there was nothing she could possibly say that would be adequate, donned the armor--a perfect fit, because of course it was--and headed out into Öxnyard in a haze of warm feelings. But then the alarms sounded, and Noggins almost sprung into action on the spot. Enemies! There was battle ahead, but she was ready. More ready than she had ever been. Her hand gripped Nailbreaker tight and she turned to meet the invaders-- Oh. Oh no. Oh no. Her heart dropped through her stomach. She was on the wrong side. She was supposed to be coming in and attacking this place, this town that was everything she could possibly have dreamed of. She was supposed to be coming in and despoiling it. She was supposed to be fighting Jaune. Her mind raced, as she stood frozen, searching for alternatives. Could she negotiate a surrender somehow? Find Jaune, explain everything, hope for the best? What if she just fled? What if she just turned and fought alongside Jaune, tried to protect this dream? It would be so easy, it would feel so right, there was still time... I promise. I promise to you, and to the Horde that I'll do all that I can to bring everyone home safe. I won't be able to save everyone The lines I won't cross will make my life harder But I promise that I'll never stop trying. Noggins stared down at her feet, and then walked out of town. She had made a promise. More than that--an oath. She had given her word. And as painful as it might be, as painful as it was, she would not be the person that Jaune had respected if she turned her back on a promise. There would be time for mourning afterwards, time in which she would feel keenly the pain of what she had lost here. But the Horde--her friends--were fighting. And it was her duty to protect them. The clash was already starting. Noggins strode into the fray, projecting a confidence she wasn't sure she truly felt as she swung Nailbreaker straight for the piggy eyes of a mighty boar. "KNIGHTS OF THE NAIL!" she shouted. "HEAR ME NOW! Pythag, get the Önager on target! Gabber, keep Pendelo busy! Everyone else, to me! Let's show Frö that beasts are no match for our valor!" SLAY THE BOARS!: 1d100+40+10+5 81
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Jan 12, 2018 07:03
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WereGoat posted:Also, for your orokos rolls, if you click in the bb code button below your roll, you'll get a copy pastable text box that will display your roll like this: I need you to develop a time machine and make this the second post in BDTG.   Cause HP 2/3 Skills: Archeology, Balance Glory 8->9 I'm not feeling up to writing I will make archeology jokes next time. Fighting A Whole Bunch More Guys: 1d100+9+2 62 That's really snazzy, thanks WereGoat.
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Jan 12, 2018 08:56
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    Held by a nailbound mook (only accessible during downtime, but in her possession):  Sucy HP: 3 Glory: 22 -> 23 Skills: Mushrooms +15 Kicking +45 Fishing +10 Theantero posted:"It is decided, men! MAN THE ÖNÄGER!" Making mush room on the Önäger: 1d100+15+22+10 97 After the payload had been launched, Sucy pulled out the ring once more to check something she had seen earlier: quote:There was something else in there with her though. She had no idea what it was, but it looked vaguely familiar? The same but different as something else she'd seen. If it turned out that it was, then she had resolved that she would try to send a message to the shape, if that was even possible through the ring. Earlier, while loading the Önäger, Sucy had noticed Jö setting off at a mad dash for Jaune, and it was likely that this would not end well for the Fröan, but perhaps if she could find a way to let Jaune know that he was nailbound, then maybe a life could be saved today. So Sucy began to try out several forms of communication with the shape, first screaming, then signing and ultimately trying to write it on an imaginary piece of paper and throwing it to the shape. Try to communicate using the ring: 1d100+22 34
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Jan 12, 2018 14:32
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   Cosmetics:   Skill 2: Skill 3: Spinning+30 HP: 1/1 Glory 17>18 Qwäg pensively chewed her orders and frowned. The burning lines of Risk blossoming in terrible fractals from Snödis's atrocious plot made her head throb...Resources were being pulled away from vital offensives for the sake of setting epidemiological brushfires, and they were all going to get burned. She had played along with her Captain's delusions and bizarre fugues for the sake of cohesion and results, but if the ends no longer justified the means... Qwäg realized that for the Horde to thrive, she might have to do a bit of judicious pruning. An assessment for later. First, she had lines to defend, and what better way to protect her own than to hurl herself in a whirling cyclone of blade and sinew into the massed ranks of the enemy cavalry. Taking heart in the snapping cloth of the Slinker Standard, she was confident enough in her survival, and blunting the charge was imperative. The bōnsaw screamed and sparked along the ground as monstrous muscles propelled her toward the charging horse in a Spinning counter-charge. Her maw open to reveal entirely too many glistening teeth, Qwäg's throat gave rise to a terrible, croaking, horse-bolting bellow. RECKLESS ATTACK against Horsemen: 1d500+30+17+2+10+10 131
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Jan 12, 2018 15:47
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    || Name: Trinh Skills: taxidermy(+50, corrupted, cooldown), jumping, Dodging(+25, in use) HP: 1/1 Glory: 23 -> 24 Ritual Glory: 3 And that's one animal prepared. One out of three is not so bad for someone who hasn't even worked on live creatures until recently. It was surprisingly easy once again. Just get the, uh something and... use the Whatever! There was an alarm, people were yelling. The battle had begun. She grit her teeth and ran for the enemy. As she dodged blurry shapes coming for her, more reveries surfaced. Visions from high above the ground, immaculate performance halls, the cheering of the crowd- She screamed in rage. No. No more confusion. There was just her and more animals to process. RECKLESS ATTACK on boars: 1d500+23+10+25+1 107 That's without the banner. If its still at +10 the final result would be: 117 Jvie fucked around with this message at 17:37 on Jan 13, 2018 |
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Jan 12, 2018 23:22
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   Name: Dack Skills: A̵̕t̷͢͡͏̡h̷͟͡͏ļ̵̶̧̀ę̷̢͡t̨̧͘i̵̕҉̴͡c̢͘͜͠s͏̨́̕ (used last round), Ą̀͠c̵̢͡͠͏r̴̸̛͝͡o͘͢͜͡b͜à̵̡̕t̷̢̀͜i̸̸͞c͘͟s̀͜͟, Laughing +25 (using) HP: 1 Glory: 20>21 Proud of having not messed the plan up by grabbing the wrong person, Dack was feeling good about himself. And the Captain's orders in the letter were much simpler this time, so he should do even better! Swallowing the orders in one gulp, Dack moves up and over the buildings, leaping from roof to roof without touching ground, searching for a target. Eventually he saw Hob in his bright pink harness in the midst of a stampede before his fellow Neötype managed to escape to a nearby roof. As Hob sang out a warning, Dack looked around and suddenly Hob's "plan" made sense. One of the Frömen, dual wielding hammers with a look like she knew what she was doing, was in the way of the stampede. There's no way she isn't some sort of priority target! Although, Dack couldn't shake off the feeling that maybe it'd be a bad idea to try to attack her... Instead, Dack climbed onto the roof directly above the Fröman and started to laugh, hoping to distract her from the battle. If possible, it'd be good to draw he up to the roof before leaping to the next, but she seemed a little too smart for that. Still, with both the stampede and Dack's antics, it's not like she could just ignore it, right? Distracting Jaune the Wall: 209. I forgot the +10 from the banner, so this would actually be 219 instead. Also, for Dack's +1 weapon, I would like to request a steel chair or something similar. I was about to do a chair shot out of nowhere against Jaune, but I'm going to hold off on doing any suicidal actions for now. Have to protect Babi and all that.
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Jan 13, 2018 01:03
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Marra   HP: 3/3 Glory: 6 Skillcore: Backstabbing, Timing (cooldown), Performing Notes: Slinkellomas Immune, Sharp Knife 'just in case'. She's in. And judging from the commotion, some idiot managed to get discovered and ruin the whole plan for everyone else. Still, she'd overheard that some people were willing to apparently very disheartened by the Unexpectables' recent victory, and that presented an opening for her skills. She spots Humbug already working to undermine the enemy response, and decides to provide her own spin upon it with the benefit of her disguise. 'THEY'RE HERE! THE BLOODY-HANDED HORDE! THE BUTCHERS OF AGENOU! FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES!' She screams. 'They're not-I can't face them again - I-I'm just a musician! They're insane! Please don't make me fight them again! I can still hear the screaming!' She wails. She hopes that her mock hysteria will further demoralise the enemy. Or at least, they'll think she's just a traumatised survivor and not an infiltrator. Attempting to sabotage A Whole Bunch More Guys with a demoralising performance: 1d100+16 43 Would be 53 with the banner or order bonus applied, 63 with both. If nothing else, she'd caught their attention...
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Jan 13, 2018 12:28
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   Name: Somnö Skills: BIGNESS +20 (cooldown), Jumping +25 (using), Smashing +10 HP 3/3 Gear: Ball and Chain (+1), Drummers Garb XXXL (+2), Iron Shield, Mushbrëwm, Jerky (not pictured) Cosmetics: Nail and Fist Token Status: Captain's Orders (+10 to attacking Warboars) Glory: 10 Ritual Glory: 1 Pigs can't look straight up, right? Or am I thinking of dogs? I'm sure it's one of them. What they can't see, can't hurt me. Somnö jumps high in the air and tries to crush the warboars on their right, flanking them in towards the önager's firing range. RECKLESS Assault on the warboars, using Jumping +25, following orders A Precipitous Pounce onto the Pack of Pigs: 1d100+25+10+10+1 144
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Jan 13, 2018 19:53
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     Name: Brumble Skills: Taking (used), painting(using) HP: 3/3 Stuff: Dance-Fighter Garb, Reedblade, Tuned Shield, Mushbrëwm, Agenou’s Cape Sash, Basker Cloak, Valuables Glory: 14 "Well then", Brumble mumbled, panting from his escape. "If we can't do this the easy way..." Turning back towards the enemy, he twirls his sword in a flourish. "I'll just have to paint the ground with their blood." Walking forwards, he begins to hum again. Attacking The Warboars - Difficulty 40+ Threat 40 [Effect - Goring Tusks] Painting with red: 1d100+10+14+10 Odd roll, so +3 52
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Jan 13, 2018 21:31
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   Name: Gryph HP: 3 Glory: 12 -> 13 Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10), Gryph smiled grimly as the ragtag team dragged the first patrol off the road. One without a hitch. Everything else going smoothly so far... And then the shouting began. And the alarms. Someone had screwed up, and now Oxnyard was buzzing, it's troops rapidly mobilising. Gado began banging on the wagon, screaming about it working, and Gryph's heart perked up. The digger was alive and unwendigo'd, although Zapanda had said a reprieve, not a cure. But she'd been true to her word. As Gado sprinted off to the newly formed ST6, Gryph took stock of the situation. An enemy commander on the field, her troops arrayed and ready to fight. The Unexpectables disorganised, without formation or direction. His work would begin soon. But a burning need to test his new skillcore overrode him, and Gryph found himself standing near Somno, the Fro of BIGNESS, facing down a rampaging boar charge. Wrestling a boar is like wrestling any other large four-limbed beast, right? Wrestling a Boar!: 1d100+10+12 115, 125 with banner.
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Jan 14, 2018 00:54
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           Name: Verika HP: 2/2 Skills: Perception +15, Keen Sight (cooling), Sniping +15 (active) Equipment: Fröman Cuirass (+1), Iron Shield, Arrow Flatpack, Ornate Bowharp (+2), Fostis Ale Cosmetics: Nail and Fist Token, Agenou's Cape Sash, Sikatris Scarf, Basker Cloak, Telescope Glory: 10 Ritual Chits: 18 (artwork bonus) Öxnyard (Part 3): From her sniper's perch atop the horse-tree (the tree with all its branches laden with dead horses), Verika had a much better vantage point of the battlefield than most of the other Unexpectables. She saw the battle formations of the enemy shifting and forming and assembling itself from a disorganized rabble of rural peasantry and forming into semi-competent squadrons of trained soldiers mounting fearsome beasts of war. She saw how the horsemen, the knights, the squires and boar handlers all calling to arms, how the masses of bodies flowed through the town's avenues and around the armory, the foundry and the stables of Öxnyard. From her lofty spot Verika saw Captain Stårn flying up high in the air astride his magnificent warbeast, the breakerfly. Captain Stårn was loudly directing orders at his siege team, ordering them move the onager into just such a position so as to let them fire upon the approaching herd of war boars. Verika didn't have the time to explain to the captain why the mobile, hardy warboars would make an unsuitable target for their mighty siege weapon. From the top of the horse tree, Verika shouted to Captain Stårn: "Sir, Captain Stårn sir!" She didn't want to interrupt his thoughts just before the first big battle test of the onager, but the Captain had a habit of monologuing to his troops when he was seized with his seiging fervor, and they didn't have time to waste! "Don't aim the onager at the warboars, sir! We've got them covered already - what we need help with is them." Verika emphatically pointed across the field at the hundred or so Fröman foot soldiers, pages, and squires that were haphazardly assembling around the town armory and arming themselves. "We have enough men to handle the horsemen and the boars. We need the onager to stop the rest from arming themselves! Shoot at that huge bunch of other guys!" Her tactical opinions thus shared, Verika realized that both the Captain Stårn AND Captain Noggins were staring at her, likely due to the blatant breach of command structure etiquette she'd just committed. Verika tried to make up for the faux pas by turning and yelling down at those even further down below her in rank and status. "You there, Nailbound, shore up our defenses against the horsemen before they strike our flanks! Get ready - they're approaching fast!"
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Jan 14, 2018 10:40
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        Name: Stårn Additional skills: Butterfly Beastmaster, Timing +25 HP: 3 Glory: 32 -> 33 Stårn lifted an eyebrow as Verika addressed him. And for a moment, he managed to keep his stern, officerly tone, snapping a harsh "You do not give me orders. See that it doesn't happen again or I will have you lubricate the Önäger during downtime as punishment." But soon enough his grimace faded, to be replaced by Stårn's ever present manic grin when it came to anything Siege related. "But other than that, good points, Verika! Great points! Why, you'd make a great sieger yourself, with well-reasoned opinions and skillcores useful to the trade to match, haha!", he lifted his finger, a glint in his eye, "But see, don't presume ol' Stårn didn't give this any thought! Let me explain..." Stårn retrieved a sheet of paper and started scribbling all sorts of strange tactically relevant troop movement vectors on it, "See, first of all. The enemy mob is large, very large! And neither are they really a coherent unit, more of an eclectic mob, like we the Unexpectables. And mobs like that? Usually they do not fight in tight formation, indeed, they would not really WORK in tight formation, an eclectic mix of battle skills and weaponry makes such a bit difficult for them. No, no, mobs are loose. And as you probably know, a shot into a loose target deals far less damage than to a tight target! Know what moves in a tight formation?" Stårn winked, "Heavy Shock Cavalry. Like the warboars!" Chuckling to himself a bit, Stårn continued, "Furthermore, whilst they are faster than the mob, they are not all that fast. That is to say, hitting them at the speeds they're capable of is within the realm of reasonable possibility. Besides, their movement can in a way work to our advantage. The reason being, that anything both relatively speedy and massive also has a lot of momentum. Momentum makes it hard for them to change their movement vectors. The mob? They are light, they can just scatter out of the way once we launch. The boars? They are committed to their charge. All we have to do is look at their speed and lead our shot a bit, and we have the horde's best mathguy here", Stårn nodded at Pythag, busy scribbling calculation, "to do that for us." "Other reasons to target the boars exist too. Mainly that they're elite troops, each individual kill is worth more for us. They are tough and harder to beat in close quarters, but personal armor is irrelevant against siege-grade munitions. And also, and I feel this is very relevant, the horde is moving to deal with them. You claim that this makes the mob a better target, but I disagree! The mob won't be particularly phased by a few casualties, especially since they can easily regroup with nobody trying to really hinder them. The warboars though? A shot from the Önäger is certain to disrupt any charge they are attempting. Thus we will not only kill a bunch of them, we will also deprive them of their greatest weapon and tactical advantage, which will directly result in the horde getting fewer casualties." Stårn tapped his chin, and then grimaced. "I do admit that we're perhaps overcommitting to them. The knights in particular might try to outflank the siege position with nobody capable on intercept course", he sighed, "Nevertheless, I a confident my targeting logic is sound. If you disagree, feel free to make your thoughts known. I've loved Siege optimization problems ever since pa gave me the first one when I was tiny after all, haha! "
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Jan 14, 2018 13:55
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  ;Name: Hat Skills: Millinery (+15), Backflips (+15) HP: 3/3 Equipment: Spear (+1), String-Slayer Armour (+2), Tuned Shield, Lucky Pearl; Sikatris Scarf, Mushbrëwm, Wagnag Jerky[?] Glory: 30 -> 31 Hat reached down and grabbed a spare carröt, and offered it to the doomed horse, who accepted it happily enough. The poor thing seemed oblivious to the things fate had in store for it. Hat was feeling quite different. Another battle, another Commander! Was the Horde ready? Had anyone managed to patch themselves up after Agenou? This frenetic pace was going to be the death of some of her Hordemates. If she was unlucky, it might be the death of her. Hat eyed the uniform hanging on a nearby hook. The plan would work, there was no doubt about that. Just get on the horse and ride. The uniform would get you to the city limits; the forged paperwork would get you in. Then say goodbye to the diseased horse, find a cheap pub and lie low until the screaming started. Almost certainly a war crime. Frö had unleashed Wendigos onto them, and you could argue that this was just returning the favour; but there were no civilians in Nägel, just prison staff and some captives, protected in their cells. Hat shook her head. She was a killer, now, but every one of those kills had been a soldier, or something trying to kill her. She couldn't be the one leaving a poisoned horse in an unsuspecting city. That left sabotage. Hat quickly looked around the ranch. A lot of Frömen were running into one building in particular, presumably the armoury, to gather their armour and weapons. Hat found a wooden torch smoldering away on the side of one of the buildings. She took it and threw it at the door to the armoury, hopefully trapping some soldiers inside and delaying their arrival on the battlefield. That done, she tried to regroup with the rest of the Horde. Sabotaging A Whole Bunch More Guys Starting a fire to block the armoury: 1d100+31+10 97 +10 if Flag bonus applies.
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Jan 14, 2018 20:15
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   Skills:Spreading Disease (+15) [CD], Cursing HP: 3/3 Glory: 7 Grumbus sniffled and wiped some sweat from his forehead. Here we go again with this poo poo. Siegeboss wanted the Onager used on the boars, so Grumbus was going to give him what he wanted. His glazed over eyes settled on the Nailbound manning the mighty siege engine. They had no idea what they were doing. "Hey, poo poo-for-brains! The hell are you guys doing?" Even after he corrected their mistake, they were still loving Up, so Grumbus continued to wrangle the Nailbound mooks with foul language. Cursing to Wrangle the Nailbound: 1d100+29 129 ! ! ! + 69 = 198 He had to thump a few of the braindead goobers with his sack, but Grumbus was pretty sure they "got" it, as much as any of the Nailbound can "get" anything.
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Jan 15, 2018 22:29
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 Name: Hob Ritual Glory : 3>4 Caterpillar aside, things were not great on the roof. He had shouted at an enemy warlord! Crouching in fear amongst the thatch, on the side of the roof away from Jaune, Hob looked back across at where he had left Agenou's Skull, where the chargers they had captured had been led back, waiting for... waiting. What's that in the tree? Beneath Verika? Hob pales a little as he realises the fate of the chargers. His eyes drift away, and settle on the surviving charger. At least that one was safe. Safe that is, until it turned. Turned, sprang on unsuspecting villagers. Mutated against their will like Qwag and Trinh. Changed irreprably like Dack. Killed like Gawp. Or warped like the singer who's core was now Hob's. Hob shook his head. No, he might have been part of this plan at the start, unthinkingly following Snodis's orders, but that charger needs to DIE. And what if it went wild early? More friends dead? No. Unless... Splut had a plan already in motion. he had said before that it woudl be near impossible to see if he was bluffing. Maybe his intentions all along would be to "dispose of" the horse. Hmm. Splut had been sneaking ahead of Hob, and was in the building below him... Was there a way in? Peeking over the roof, there was Jaune. And there was Noggins!? looking sad, upset even as she fought off the boars. The way she kept looking over as she spun her hammer, her gaze resting on Jaune for a fraction of a second longer than you would exect, there was some kind of energy between the two. Despite their marked differences in appearance, it was almost like looking at someone next to a mirror, the way they both moved, the way they held themselves. An image flashed ino Hob's mind, and he hoped, Oh Gees he hoped that Noggins would not end up facing off against warlord by herself. 
WereGoat fucked around with this message at 09:24 on Jan 17, 2018 |
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Jan 16, 2018 20:00
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 But before the alarms sounded, before the warriors took the field, the Unexpectables were already among them. Hidden among them or above them or just out of sight, they took the opportunity to act and cripple their unsuspecting foes. --- Splut the Bluffer wore the Mask as though it were the face he was born into, and walked among the Frömen like he was meant to be there. Not only did they never question him… they joked with him, talked to him like he was an old friend. A close old friend. When he first saw the Forgemaster, he hatched an audacious plan to lessen his contribution to the upcoming battle. He grabbed a hammer and brought it to the giant man, extolling its secret virtues and disparaging his too-obvious warhammer. Forgemaster Pendelo did not, on the face of it, think it was a good trade. 
(Unfortunately the hammer Splut gave him is magical, and causes - no I’m totally joking. He bought it hook, line, and sinker. His Damage drops to 1, and his roll drops from 10+++++ to 8. He’s still a strong dude, but a tiny hammer isn’t much of a weapon at his scale.) --- The Knights were a big problem, but the rest of the Fröman forces couldn’t exactly be ignored. Bamboo, Humbug, Marra and Hat were in position to act against them, and they did so precisely as planned. Hat, wanting to avoid direct bloodshed (if she could help it) opted to set fire to an important looking building. Ideally it would look like an accident, but it hardly mattered at this point. She tossed it in a door and closed it.
Humbug ran out among the already disorganized troops as they went and shouted conflicting orders in a confident voice.
(Mixed bag, here. Hat and Bamboo succeeded in sowing chaos, reducing the Difficulty by 20 to 80 and the Threat by 10 to 40! They’re confused and spread out, but they’re still coming! Humbug and Marra aren’t so lucky: Humbug takes 1 Damage and a -10 to rolls next turn; Marra, on the other hand, has infiltrated so successfully she’s stuck in their ranks! Next turn, she may only attack the Bunch Of Guys, and - if she’s very, very unlucky - may be hit by a stray blow from attacking Unexpectables!) --- Snödis, having one of her ‘episodes’, sauntered into one of the stables and began to help polishing saddles and cleaning shoes and brushing horses, and generally being a strange nuisance. While no one there knew who she was or what she was doing there, she clearly belonged there, had been sent by one of the Knights, because… well, why else would she be there, exactly? She did her stuff well enough, and the Squires stayed out of her way because it was uncomfortable to listen to her child-like mumbles. So, she worked.
(Threat is reduced to 30, and sabotaging the straps means that should any of them roll below a 15, they’ll fall straight out of their saddle, reducing the Difficulty accordingly.) --- Dack and Hob watched from the outskirts, up on the rooftops. Both flagged Commander Jaune instantly, despite her small size, and tried to distract her. Dack pulled at the roof tiles with his claws, snarling and laughing loud enough to carry over the din.
(She was distracted, but it’s not apparent that that DID anything. Either she’s no-selling it, or there’s something else at play here.) --- quote:Once the loss of the three patrols was noticed and the would-be thieves spotted, a great alarm went up, like a dozen screaming cats. Immediately more lights snapped on and half dressed soldiers began pouring out of the various buildings - one of which was on fire, a smattering of hands desperately fighting against it with buckets of water.. One of the lights illuminated a flank of the hidden mass of the Horde, sending up a cry, and Grimper cursed. Careful planning, undone by the vagaries of chance! Well, it couldn't be helped - and besides, they only knew that some enemies were here, not how many - and that their own troops had been compromised. He called for an advance, and many ran out to meet the defenders… but the real impact would come from those who’d already embedded themselves, unexpected and unseen by the distracted guards. He trusted that they’d sort themselves out. --- Knights of Oxnyard Special Technique - Lightning Charge! The Knights can attack ranged attackers as though they were using melee weapons - the range doesn’t matter if you’re moving that fast. Also, should they win an exchange, any roll of theirs above 85 deals an additional 1 damage to someone who’s been hit! --- But the Knights weren’t the only ones to field beasts in combat! Qwäg the Risk Assessor launched her way towards them, beastly saw leading the way, roaring and whinnying in mockery of her fragile prey.
(Wendigo Bonus! Horsemen lose 3 Difficulty and take a -5 penalty per roll due to their terror!) --- Sucy fiddled with her ring even though she should have been fiddling with the Önäger. It had to do something, and she wouldn't have a better time to test it than now. She slid it on while facing Jaune. Everything dropped away except for the light and shape of the Commander's... whatever. Whatever the hell she was seeing. Shapes, rotating and flashing, but only when she wasn't *looking*. She couldn't turn away, but... it heard her head to think, so she didn't think. She looked. Whatever she was looking at was unmistakably Commander Jaune, but also unmistakably Commander Agenou. Something in common, something buried skin deep and somehow also integral to who they were. She didn't think she could see her watching, but who could know? Was she revealing herself just by looking at her? She snapped the ring off, took a breath, and tried again. The Commander's shape was subtly different - enough. She wanted to test something. She spoke. Nothing happened. She mimed writing. Nothing happened. She imagined words forming. Nothing- oh, hold on. A squiggly, curling line of light coiled out of her... head? Into her line of sight at any rate. It didn't look like words, but it was something. She repeated the message, and got another flash of squiggled light. It was sort of fun, actually. She sent messages into the ether, enjoying the play of light and shapes against the utter black. She lost track of time, and was momentarily terrified that the battle had continued without her... or that her body had died out there, leaving her trapped in here. She ripped the ring off... And found that nothing had changed 'outside'. Jaune was no more looking at her than she was before. If she'd received the messages, she wasn't letting on. It wasn't that simple, though. She was sending something. She felt - she knew - that Jaune should be receiving them, somehow. She slipped the ring back on once again and sank into the dark. It was quiet there. No blood or death. No anything... except for the light of her words. --- Rik the Soloist stood at the head of the Horde, for some reason, and watched the Knights close in. Someone had to blunt the charge, and Grimper had chosen a select few to go ahead and do so. He tried in vain to think of something cool to say before the Knights hit them like a ton of bricks.
Terrified Horses (-5 per roll) = 2068 Sabotaged Saddles (Remove rolls below 15) = 2028 Subtract Horde Armor = 1993 FINAL 30d100 = 1600 VS 39d100 = 1993 (Ouch! With the sabotage earlier, only 30 people take 1 Damage, but due to their Lightning Charge 9 of them take 2 Damage! So, going from lowest rolling to highest: Spekz and Tix take 2 Damage each (killing Spekz), and seven Mooks take 2 Damage (killing two). Everyone else (because, hell, there were only 30 people in there to begin with!) take 1 Damage. This kills Doc (ignominous death!), Pog the What, and two other Mooks, as well as breaking Burnie’s and Biggo’s Shields. Let me know if I missed any casualties!) --- Undaunted by the death in his own ranks, Ringo the Pick vaulted over the Knights and whistled for Pendelo’s attention. He had no idea why the giant was wielding a tiny hammer, and he didn’t need to know. The Forgemaster smiled widely as he saw him and whistled back. “Whistle yourself, my man! You think you can take me on just because you’re a little bigger than the rest of those vermin? Come to die, then your bones will feed my FORGE!” He moved faster than Ringo expected in that heavy armor, bringing the hammer up in a lightning-quick uppercut.
Fake-rear end Magic Hammer (Reduce roll to 8d100, reduce Damage to 1) --- Forgemaster Pendelo Special Technique - Tough As Nails! If he is defeated, his roll drops to half its total and he survives. The lost d100s become d10s and are added to his roll. This continues until he dies after being dropped to 1d100. --- “Y-you can’t beat me that easily.” He slammed a meaty claw around Ringo’s neck, lifting him clear off the ground. “I’m going to enjoy seeing if your skin is as tough as it looks. Maybe I’ll make myself a hat out of your thick-rear end hide. Of course, you won’t live long enough to see -” He grunted as a sword slammed solidly into his thigh. Gabber the Mimic stared up at him, eyes gleaming like a night predator’s.
(Tough As Nails halfs his roll again from 4d100+4d10 to 2d100+6d10, but he’s in pretty rough shape. Well done!) --- Commander Jaune watched the fighting around her but didn’t intervene. She looked sad and frustrated, but what she did instead was gather piles of material. Stone, wood, scraps of metal, all tossed into several neat piles. She kept her eyes on Grimper, but for his part he seemed pleased as punch simply to watch her from the darkness, leering infuriatingly. She ignored him and kept working. An unfamiliar Fröman broke away from the Horde and charged towards her, shouting. His eyes looked strange, and the Nail in his face marked him clearly enough for what he must be. Her face twisted in rage, and she spat, but she didn’t stop working. When he got too close, she moved.
(Jö takes 1 Damage and is out of the fight for the moment! Jaune built a coffin around him before he fell over! Neat trick!) --- The Warboars were vicious, angry looking beasts, about as far from a regular boar as a sword was from a butter knife. They squealed and roared and pawed the earth, advancing like a tide of death on four legs.  They also looked delicious and Somnö the Big was all too eager to get a TASTE. She spun her ball and chain and leapt into the air, sighting out the biggest, meanest looking brute to fall upon. And fall she did.
(All four of you succeeded! Warboar Difficulty drops to 25, and Threat drops to 15! In addition, you scared some of them off instead of killing them - they may be available as mounts later on!) The rest of the boars drove for the army, where Verika the Perceiver was waiting for them, bow in hand. They didn’t look so tough! She fired half a dozen arrows in an instant, striking vulnerable joints and sending the pigs tumbling.
(Delaying consequences for failure becauuuuuse…) --- High above, shivering on his Breakerfly, Stårn cackled. He saw her signal, but he knew in his heart that conditions were right even before that. The lumbering mass of the boars, slowed and corralled by their injuries, were a perfect target. And they said he was a fool for wasting the Onäger's power against a moving target! They weren't moving very fast right now, were they!? He cackled once more, then tugged sharply on Flutter's antenna. The Breakerfly chirped, and its wings began to pulse with rose-fuschia light. On cue, his men tripped the guide lever, bringing the Onäger to destructive life. Even from here, he could tell that the tension, torsion, torque and weighting were perfect, and the beast of a weapon let loose its deadly rain.
(Wuh oh! Jaune blocked the Onager, preventing the attack from utterly obliterating the pigs. Splash damage from the attack still reduced their Threat by 5, bringing it down to 10. However, they still managed to get past and beat the attack, which means that group takes Damage! Flipit, Valthax, Gopher, Gorb and 3 Mooks take 1 Damage, and Vist, Brumble and Waesh have their shields break.) He could feel Jaune watching him, and in that moment he hated her with an incandescent flame. She'd wasted his opportunity with a cheap trick! Even knocking her wall down hadn't been cathartic - it broke on impact, but it broke into shapes that had clearly been designed to break that way. Impact absorbing design on the fly… one thing was for certain - he needed her Cores! --- Grimper slapped his palm into his face as the Onäger failed - failed because of Jaune's damned Speciality! He'd underestimated her because of her pacifistic nature, and she’d HUMILIATED him! Well, enough of counting on his MEN to do things on their own. He burst out of his hiding spot, whipping a handful of gravel at the oncoming soldiers. “Alright you lazy jackasses, I’ll show you how you this is done.” He stared directly at Jaune, who panted from the exertion she’d just undergone, then stomped into the fray with his men.
52d100 = 2555 VS 100d100 = 4885 (Grimper took losing poorly and helped the Mooks slap down the army. Many die, others scatter. Their Difficulty drops to 60, and their Threat drops to 30.) Things had looked bleak, but now their Warlord walked among them! And he was actually kinda kicking rear end, despite some gently mutinous thoughts people may have had in the past! He was also screaming commands to whoever would listen.
Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 08:14 on Jan 20, 2018 |
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Jan 17, 2018 05:39
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Name: Hob Hob dropped from the roof into the shadows beside the door. The door lay open a crack, so in a swift movement he kicked out open, bow taut. Pointing it at the Fröan inside wearing a fancy... "Splut?" The bow was lowered as Hob closed the door behind himself. "I'll keep it quick, does your squad have a plan to sabotage the infected charger? Not an accusation, I just don't want to kill it if there's already a plan in motion."
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Jan 17, 2018 09:34
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 10->25 As the horde won (by my count) fifteen bouts in the previous round, the Hoarded Glory of the Golden Slinker Standard increases by 15 to a total of 25. Please only apply this bonus to the end of your roll if your action fulfills the following criteria: * Is a Solo Mission (ie: Reckless Assaults, Sabotage, etc) * Is within Line of Sight of the Banner - In this case: as long as Snödis (the current banner-holder) is present on the battlefield. Additionally, the Banner Bonus will be automatically applied to Group Missions, where it will act as a one-time bonus to the final tally of the individual-non-banner-bonused rolls, meaning the final roll would look something like this, assuming a 30 member strong, non ringo-wendingo force: 30d100+glory+weapons+skillcores+banner bonus vs Enemy Group Total - horde armour ± special effects.
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Jan 17, 2018 09:59
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    HP:3 Glory:36 Bluffing +20 (cooldown) Charm +25 Ritual Glory:0 Infiltrator Captain The Infiltrator Captain removed the mask as he was made, nodding curtly to the former Neötype. "Twice I let it be an option amongst my orders, twice it was not taken up. It seems my squad feel the same way as I do about it. Less of a plan, more of a mutual understanding that some steps should not be taken. For now we have a battle to win: I'll speak with your Captain afterwards, we'll come up with a better plan that does not cross that line. Kill the enemy as a priority, the charger must wait." He headed over to the massive hammer he'd bluffed from the Forgemaster and hefted it as best he was able, getting a feel for the weight of it. "Better yet, get the enemy to kill themselves." He looked at the mask, somewhat conflicted. He'd spelled out the precautions that he'd thought were necessary, but that was before he'd experienced what it could do. rewriting the memory of those around him, implanting matching memories so he could dip in and exploit them to the maximum... So very dangerous, both to its wielder and, given the right hands, those set against them. As a tool for an infiltrator, it was fantastic - provided they were used to dealing in lies and false identities, scams and assumed personalities. Becoming the mask was what you always tried to do, but you always, always had to take it off afterwards. For now, for Tö and for the Horde, he needed to see what happened when he really pushed it. With a final brief gesture of salute to Hob, he re-donned the mask, stepped outside and looked for the most poorly-led enemy unit. It was gratifying to see Ringo battle with the Forgemaster and his dinky little mundane hammer, though the huge Frö seemed annoyingly persistent. He let the mask-inspired tide of memory and emotion wash around him, a constant Tö rock in a river of Frö, as he saw the bulk of those on foot driven forth by Grimper and the Horde, his heart emboldened to see the Slinker standard billowing. By comparison, the Frö were scared, disheartened and fleeing, perfect. "Frömen, to me!" He held his new hammer aloft as symbol and token of the authority he was trying to claim, and called out, "We've been infiltrated! Our own horsemen have betrayed us! All of you, as many as can manage, we have to stop them taking any more Frö lives! Flee the Horde if you can, we don't stand a chance against a Warlord that powerful with our own commander not engaging, leave them to each other! You know me, you know who I am, for the sake of all that, believe me when I say we have to stop the traitor horses, and we have to stop them Now! Chaaarge!" Something Else: Charm as many of the Whole Bunch More Guys as will obey into attacking the 'traitor' Horsemen, using the OG mask to help convince them: 1d100+111 124 +25 Banner bonus He thought he saw Marra within their number, and tried to meet her gaze for a moment. He had to hope that she and the other infiltrators heard the Orders he was giving and backed him up, either through supporting his gambit or their own reckless actions. AJ_Impy fucked around with this message at 12:31 on Jan 17, 2018 |
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Jan 17, 2018 10:37
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    Extra Skillcore: Fashion +25 HP: 3/3 (2 wire) Glory: 20-21 Ignomity: -6 Ritual Glory: 1->2 Hoarded Glory: 25 Snödis stumbled out of the stables, clutching her head and wafting away memories. This was not the time for daydreaming, this was a time for action! She was apparently behind enemy lines, far, far behind them by the looks of it, with little backup and even less enemy formations to engage with. No matter, she could still do plenty of damage with the right amount of leverage. Looking around her, she spied the Öxynyard Townhall left almost undefended, most of the people present already having joined battle with Taking advantage of the spectacle of battle, she snuck up to the sandstone abode and began climbing its facade, hoping that the guards that did patrol the area would be otherwise occupied, so that her planned act of sabotage would go undisturbed.  From the apex of the Öxnyard Townhall Clocktower, the Golden Slinker Standard waves in triumph, bolstering Unexpectable forces and sowing yet more confusion into the ranks of the enemy, with the aid of a few carefully chosen words. Disapproving Poetry to Sabotage Enemy Morale By Replacing Their Flag With Ours and Also Taunting Them: 1d100+20+30-6 118 + 25 banner bonus = 143 "Hey you Frömen Soldiers, Knights and warboars, rabble all! Kneel before your betters, or soon you on our swords shall fall! With our Wendingoes rushing into battle; and siege munitions raining heavy 'pon your heads you are surely better of just fleeing; lest you end up broken, dead! But before you think to take resolve, know just this one thing, We are already beside you, traitors hidden amongst your kin!" -- [Standing orders: Join the battle as necessary.]
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Jan 17, 2018 12:15
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Name: Portha Skills: Rummaging (in use), Cleaning, Imagining (cooldown) HP: 3/3 Glory: 15 The enemy was halfway broken but the real threat still remained. If Jaune was allowed to continue building things unopposed... well, Portha had no idea what would happen since her imagination was worn out for now. Jaune had proven immune to minor distractions, so Portha knew there was only one thing to do, attack head on! She shouted an attack command to any nailbound in earshot and prepared to fire. There was one arrow in Portha's flatpack that was slightly better than the rest. Free of damage from the last big fight and sharpened better than the other arrows. Acting on pure instinct, Portha reached back and grabbed it without even looking, then took careful aim and fired at Jaune. Shoot an arrow at Jaune!: 1d100+25 95
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Jan 17, 2018 12:59
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Name: Jö, the Nailed Fostis Butcher Skills: Butchery (using), Impatience (CD), Clouting HP: 3/3 Glory: 4 > 5 Roll Modifiers: -10 all rolls Must obey all orders: Immune to orders from Hob Items: -Drum (Battle loot) -Froman Sword +1 -Belmysut Guard Uniform +1 Jö was in pain. His head hurt. His feet hurt. He was cramped in a box, though a very comfortable one. And trying to flail around to get out was just aggravating the pain in his head and feet. So? Might as well as take a nap. He was good at taking naps in awkward positions and places. Once, he took a nap inside a battleboar because he got too cold while butchering it in the freezer and warmed himself up by climbing in for a bit. No biggie. Jo mumbled, "Good night" and went off to dreamland for now. Zzzzzzzz: 1d100-10+10 38 Slaan fucked around with this message at 00:07 on Jan 18, 2018 |
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Jan 17, 2018 13:58
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Name: Stårn Additional skills: Butterfly Beastmaster, Timing +25 HP: 3 Glory: 32 -> 33 Stårn smacked his tongue in irritation as the Önäger's shot was intercepted. Well, at least they had kept the enemy Commander busy for a bit, even if it was a somewhat hollow consolation. "Well that's all from the big gal for today, Siege Team Six. Disperse from the Önäger, we start combat support protocols now." Too busy for proper post currently, but giving ST6 ++10 for Combat Support actions (suppressing fire, PLAGUE RATS, whatever you come up with really) for now.
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Jan 17, 2018 14:10
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Marra HP: 3/3 Glory: 7 Skillcore: Backstabbing, Timing (cooldown), Performing Notes: Slinkellomas Immune, Sharp Knife 'just in case'. Well, this was not quite according to plan, but Marra was nothing if not adaptable. Once the Fröman lines engaged with the enemy in the crush and confusion of melee, she could go to work - a subtle knife here and there on the key lynchpins of the line, and well, they would hopefully break nice and quickly. She'd probably be in more danger of being killed by her hordemates than by- AJ_Impy posted:"Frömen, to me!" That magnificent bastard. Oh, he was almost certainly flying too close to the sun by directing them against the horsemen, but this she could work with. 'He's right, there are traitors everywhere! See in the enemy ranks? Comrades of mine, traitors, who foreswore their oaths and turned upon us! They brazenly wear their former colours as an insult to our slain leader!' She spits on the ground to emphasise the point. 'There are traitors everywhere! Spreading defeatist talk! Starting fires! Setting traps! Spreading phony orders!' - Humbug's misfortune might come in handy, here. If he survived and felt angry later, well, he should have been a better infiltrator. Not her problem. As for the others? They'd done their jobs right, so they had nothing to fear. At least, in theory. She's an expect at reassigning blame and causing suspicion. Granted it was usually 'who stole the loot' or 'who sold us out to the guards', but this, this was her element, as surely as it was using a blade. She singles out loners, the unpopular, anyone that looks like the others might be inclined to mistrust. If anyone speaks up against her guilt slinging - 'Oh, I see! You're all in it together!' - keep them off balance, no time to think, just run them over like a runaway wagon. 'Those smug horse-riding bastards! They always look down on us poor bloody infantry at the best of times! Why do you think the enemy came here instead of going straight to Noostra? It's to pick up their traitorous cavalry-and butcher us in the process! We have met the enemy, and HE IS US!' Starting infighting among the enemy!: 1d100+10+10+25 54 (Forgot to include glory! That should be +7 for 61!) Hopefully the sheer audacity of her wild claims will, if not convince the enemy that they are true, at least let her keep her cover as a traumatised and hysterical survivor. But if it works...well, getting out of these situations is her other speciality.
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Jan 17, 2018 14:11
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  Name: Waesh Skills: Piracy, Grappling (using), Yelling (cooldown) HP: 3/3 Glory: 4->5 As the armies prepare to meet, the (extremely loud) voice of Stärn rings out over the massed Tö, excitably yelling as the Onager is ready to fire upon some of the approaching boars. He mutters a quick prayer to himself that siege team can successfully demolish the approaching war beasts, leaving them easy pickings for the readied Unexepectables. Under Stärn's watchful eye, they launch a promising barrage of stones, arcing through the air towards the horde, when Juane appeares in a blur of movement. It would be quite the astounding sight if it weren't an enemy commander. "Neat trick, that," Waesh mumbles. It was different from the other warlords he'd seen. Grimper was all bluster and force, and while Agenou's army was graceful, sure, killing on a beat is still killing. He grimly sets his feat and readies his sword. It is all Waesh can do to hold the line with his fellow soldiers against those boars. Vicious creatures, they were. He only barely keeps a hooking pair of tusks out of his vitals with a panicked interjection of his shield, which is quickly shattered under the beast's weight, Tuned or no. His attention is drawn out of the crush of gobline and porcine bodies by a familiar sight atop the Öxnyard Townhall Clocktower. Atop it, Snödis jeers and taunts, her signature poetry directed with venom at the Öxnyard troops. 'Lass has a way with words, she does,' thinks Waesh to himself. Emboldened, he pushed forth again, wrestling with another warboar. Wrestle some warboars: 1d100+17 101 Captainicus fucked around with this message at 14:33 on Jan 17, 2018 |
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Jan 17, 2018 14:14
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    /// Cosmetic Items: /// Name: Gabber Skill: Mimicry (using), Listening(+30), Night Vision {cooldown} HP: 3/3 Glory: 16 -> 17 His heart pounded in his ears as he made the charge towards Pendelo, a small group of rallied attackers rushing with him towards the large brute with the comically undersized hammer. While his weapon of choice seemed foolish, Gabber knew better than to judge a book by its cover. The Captain's Hammer wasn't all that impressive looking either, save for some intricate designs on the front. However, he'd seen how effective it was in combat. It would do no good to underestimate the large man in front of him. As he made his charge there was a sudden shrill whistle, and he noticed with a speedy blur that Ringo the Pick was rushing to meet the large foe as well. Gabber's heart beat a few beats faster - Good. Having the Horde's own super-soldier fighting by their side would be invaluable. He liked the odds his small group had against the brute, but with Ringo? No way he could withstand them. As he neared ever closer he watched the battle unfold; watched the brute make a haymaker uppercut swing towards their top-knot-ch fighter; watched it shatter to pieces against the Wendigoad, a brutal series of sweeps and kicks from Ringo; then finally, watching the brute rally as if he had nine lives, clutching Ringo in a sturdy grip. They were almost upon them, hold on- Putting on a last effort burst of speed Gabber crashed into the melee, swinging with all his might into the armored thigh of his foe, staggering him. Yet still he stood clutching Ringo, and now he made a grab for Gabber as well. Trying to dodge out of the way he found his armor pushing back against him heavily. It was no use, and he was soon in his grasp as well! However, he went no where, and with a shock watched as the man's muscles bulged with the effort of trying to lift him. His armor! It was too heavy, he couldn't pick him up! As the brute continued in vain trying to lift him, Gabber kept swinging as hard as he could at his armor, and watched as the remaining number of his group crashed into the scrum with whoops and hollers, also now beginning to rain blows on the large foe. Surprise turned to shock turned to pain, real pain - they had him on the ropes. If they could take him out their morale would shatter! As the man continued to try and lift Gabber and his face had begun sinking lower and lower towards the ground, a sudden idea came over him. Yes, if he would hit it would work - no one would get back up from such a blow. Steeling himself and waiting for the perfect opportunity, Gabber attempted to break free of the brute's grasp and took one step, planted his foot, and with a sharp twist of his body swung his word in a low arc with all his might behind it, stepping forward with his other foot and driving his sword upwards in what he hoped was a deadly uppercut swing that connected right in the man's chin - an imitation of the exact blow he had tried to just put on the Dekatö. Forgemaster Pendelo - Mimic a Deadly Uppercut Swing!: 1d100+16(glory)+10(skillcore)+1(sword) It wasn't his best effort - but hopefully it would be enough to put the man down for good. Task Manager fucked around with this message at 15:36 on Jan 17, 2018 |
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Jan 17, 2018 15:32
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Potrait: Naim: Mason Skillz: Mason Hootin' an' Hollerin' +15 Mason MasonryMasonFlailing +25 HeeP: Mason Mason Mason Glury: Masonx22 -> 23 Mason is legit pissed! "de shootey thang wurked dammit! Ladee Grimpy knucked et awai. Dis steenks." Mason, of course, always relishes explosions and destruction. At the direction of Captain Stårn, Mason decides to take his frustration out on some jerk in the other army. Stårn pointed Mason at Forgemaster Pendelo's way, although he attempted to correct Mason's pronunciation of the Forgemaster's name for several minutes before giving up. Therefore Mason is now Flailing with his Brutal Reedblade towards Forgemaster PeePeeDooDoo, screaming the name all the way. Well, he probably deserved it or something. Flailing through to Pendelo!: 1d100+57 84
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Jan 17, 2018 15:50
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Not updating today (obviously!) but want to do some book keeping - is there anything that needs art done, item or otherwise, that needs doing or that you want? I also want to update the fanart page with the several pages of it I've missed. Alternately, is there any general backstory or lore that you want OOC expansion on? I'm feeling creative but not like writing a whole update :P
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Jan 17, 2018 15:54
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Dog Kisser posted:Alternately, is there any general backstory or lore that you want OOC expansion on? I'm feeling creative but not like writing a whole update :P Flashback about young Grimper.
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Jan 17, 2018 15:58
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| # ? Apr 25, 2024 01:57 |
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Barbed Tongues posted:Flashback about young Grimper. Eh, I'm not going to say no, but I'm not sure I want to delve into potentially spoilery stuff... But on the other hand it would be really funny!
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Jan 17, 2018 16:01
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