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Dog Kisser posted:ill just write 'you all died' 
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Feb 26, 2018 20:11
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Dog Kisser posted:ill just write 'you all died' My plan worked!    Cause HP 2/3 Skills: Archeology (cooldown), Balance (using) Glory12->13 Cause beat a desperate tattoo into the skulls of the closest Inhabited, but even those he hit solidly didn't seem to react. If he'd known that Fro was just as capable of depersonizing its citizens... Maybe he could hide in the woods somewhere. Cause's feet were steady, but his mind reeled, even as he struck at his chosen foes. fighting the nearby Inhabited!: 1d100+10+2+13+25 62 Consistent mediocrity was looking real good right about now...
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Feb 27, 2018 02:09
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  There were so many of them. So many. Surely Sikatris hadn't forced the entire city into her service, but it certainly seemed that way. As far as they could see, down alleys and byways of the city, more Inhabited were clambering out of doorways and windows. They weren't in any particular rush - they simply methodically and casually made their way towards the Horde. It was only when they drew into melee range that they exploded into violent motion. They never spoke, never made a sound except the wooden creaking of their limbs as they rained blows on the invaders. So many, and yet… they were slow, and - for all their precision - strangely clumsy, as though whatever animated them wasn't used to the physical laws of reality. More than once the Horde witnessed them attempting to, for instance, catch an incoming blade, only to appear vaguely surprised when their speed wasn't up to the task. Because of this alone, the Horde was able to stem the flood - but how long could they last? --- The sniper was a big problem. They couldn't afford to split their attention any further - between the blue threads and the Inhabited they already had their hands full, but looking down, forwards AND up was unacceptable. Grimper whistled and pointed up at the source of the air shot, delegating a handful of men to distract him. The Warlord watched as the flower bloomed in the chest of the Mook who had been stricken, examining it as it wilted before his eyes. Foul Oh-Gee tech, for certain! Gabber the Mimic fixed his eyes on the source, invisible from this distance - though he imagined he could see a glint of light half way up the Thumbscrew. Had the Sniper rappeled down there to give himself a nearly unassailable shooting platform? He shook his head as he saw Snödis dragged off - no time for idle thoughts. He kept his eyes fixed up ahead, pretending as though he were confused and overwhelmed, mimicking the perfect target.
(Knock is distracted, disabling his Tap Root ability this turn and dealing no damage. This won’t last, but you’ve probably saved at least one Horde member!) --- Bamboo the Virtuoso scouted their possible options. One thing she did not want to happen was for them to get forced into a single corridor, where they'd be swamped by superior forces in no time. No, they needed to spread out, to derive multiple access points to the Thumbscrew so Grimper had a choice and wouldn't be pigeonholed and pulled down. Whatever the rumblings in the Horde, the Warlord couldn't be allowed to fall. If he did, surely the Unexpectables would go the way of the Pawns. She shuddered, then gathered a crew to push out, breaking away from the central mass of the Horde and running down one of the side streets.
(Bamboo, Valthax, Gelia, Tharbad, Gorb, Spleen and four Mooks take the hit, breaking Bamboo’s shield and dealing 1 Damage to the others!) --- The Inhabited came from all sides, pouring down on them like they were at the bottom of a funnel. Evidently, despite their lack of speech, they had some means of communicating… or else were being controlled by something else. The idea boggled the mind - what could control so many sources of information, see through thousands of eyes? No, surely the Inhabited themselves had some sort of… later, later! The Inhabited couldn't be allowed to close distance! Grimper barked orders, demanding that bows and ranged weapons be brought to bear against those further off. “I don't care if you have to throw rocks, stop those bastards from coming in!” The Horde obeyed.
(In any combat with the Inhabited, they will take some damage, win or lose. This will be reflected in a -d100 penalty added to their ‘roll’. Naturally, they will take far more damage on a loss, but either way they’ll keep coming until they’re destroyed. This distant group is getting closer, and will be within melee range next round due to the failure to stop them!) --- All things considered, Stårn the Sieger had been having a pretty good day. The Onäger had worked great - the wall was still burning and sagging in places, what a rush - he had Resonated again, and now a whole giant pile of dumb, slow enemies had arrayed themselves in a neat line. The Sniper was distracted, and up here those threads couldn't touch him. It was time. He wiped a tear of joy from one corner of his eye, then smiled savagely and spurred Flutter into motion.. He heard a drumbeat from below, and the Breakerfly chirped in excitement. He patted its head and pointed.
 A beam of blinding pink flame leapt from his mount’s jaws, blasting the advancing line of Inhabited into burning corpses. Those that kept their feet continued their advance, but soon the degradation of their bodies slowed even that. The blazing pink energy faded quickly, leaving behind shattered remnants and a smattering of mundane fires, and the Horde advanced through it, taking down the rest. Stårn's smile faded as cracks began to spread through his mount's carapace, lines of light from its blazing core peeking through. Despite his efforts, he was losing altitude, too. He took it down gently on a flat residential roof overlooking the battle. Hopefully his creature needed only a moment's rest, because this was not a great time for this! --- Down below in the melee, Dack the Athlete indulged in some curiosity. He slammed a creature off its feet with his chair, then folded it open and sat on it. It struggled to free itself, but he was far too heavy and far too strong for it to escape. He reached down with one beefy claw and pulled on the mask. It felt like trying to pull a face off. Well, it wasn't as though he'd never done that either. He pulled harder.  The mask came off, though with rather more resistance then he'd expected. The faceplate broke around the rim where it connected to the rest of the carapace, then a flexible underlayer streeetched, like thick sap, until it snapped off. The lights in the eyes faded immediately, and the mask looked totally inert. As for the face underneath…  The man looked as though he were walking through a park, or dreaming a pleasant dream. Though he breathed, he appeared completely catatonic… and even as Dack watching the breathing slowed and stopped. The man died in his hands, smiling as though he died among his family. Dack dropped him, unnerved beyond reason.  (Weird! Dack gains a cosmetic Inhabited Mask - whatever magic animated it appears to be gone… probably) --- Grimper actually laughed, giddy as a child with a new toy. “Would you look at that! Watch them fall beneath the holy might of Tõan ingenuity! Come, let's press our advantage! Make way towards the Thumbscrew!” The Horde surged through the fields of battered, burning bodies, eyes locked on their target through the endless number of enemy forces and the Commander herself. Grimper was the spearhead, swatting aside Inhabited soldiers to splatter against nearby buildings, but Trinh and the others did their part, pushing ever onwards and leaving behind scores of dead and dying. Even so, another few of their brethren were snagged by the threads and pulled away screaming. Would they be enough?
(Success! You pushed closer, which will be reflected on the updated map in a bit. Mechanically, that means you can strike at the Commander directly now without having to go crazy trying to get to her, and also means you’re within a crazy sprint distance to the entrance to the Relay if you want to be super reckless. It also means getting OUT of here is way harder, so maybe start thinking of that?) --- Further into the city, hanging upside down around the Commander, the Unexpectables that had been caught by the threads wriggled desperately. Every motion dragged the threads inexorably tighter around their skin. But the Horde was coming, and every moment they hung here they were wasting time! They struggled all the harder.
(Oof, that was one hell of a roll! 12 of you got caught, and only Splut and Hat escaped without damage. Honorable mention to Humbug, who rolled 122. Alas, the attack ignores armor and shields. Those who didn’t escape take 1 Damage before breaking free, which kills a Mook. Between the broken lines (including the one Marra broke, though I can’t find a clever way of writing her into the text proper (sorry!)) and her regenerating 2 of them this turn, the threshold for Slipknot Tango is now 9. It’ll go back up to 11 next turn, though using an action to cut the lines will decrease it by 1 regardless of roll! But wait, there’s more…) Those who escaped fled the square, unwilling to face the Commander one on one - not to mention the Inhabited even now coming towards them. Only Captain Splut the Bluffer hung back, wearing the guise of Craic - or was it the other way around? It was getting tough to tell. Either way, presently another Artifact had his attention - painfully. The Hat he wore on his head wouldn’t let him look away from her, and she turned her head to face him. He knew he should leave, but something was wrong here. More than the obvious. He could see a falsehood, and the Hat shielded him from the burden of his expectations. Why wouldn’t Sikatris be here? They had expected her to be. And, look, here she was. Only… was it her? She hadn’t moved, not really, only twitched and stretched an arm or tilted her head. He’d never seen her face, none of them had. It was more like she was…  ...A puppet. Holy poo poo! He scrambled backwards, but the shambling thing ‘stood’ awkwardly, clearly being lifted by some invisible line. It spoke, but the voice came vibrating out of the web of lines criss-crossing the area. “Ah, well spotted. Oh well, time to move up my time table.” Its head turned a full rotation until its ‘eyes’ took him in. “Little traitor, whatever you are under all that stolen equipment… Hold your breath.”  The puppet inflated insanely before billowing out a glittering crimson cloud that filled the square. He hissed in terror as he realized what it was, realized it was coming from all over. Releasing Madmist into their own city!? Those monstrous, insane fools! Their own citizens would be… only, no, he saw the Inhabited lurching through the fog. Their faces were well covered, the fog barely disturbed by their passage. They didn’t need to breath in there. They were totally immune to its effects! His mind spun as his tactical predictions scattered into nothingness. This changed everything. He looked back to see Grimper looking back at him, looming over the fog several hundred metres away. Splut shook his head slightly, but he heard the Warlord shout. “Onwards, my Horde! This changes nothing! We need to claim the relay or else all is lost!”
Madmist is an environmental condition that causes and/or exacerbates Monsterism and/or madness. It’s not fun stuff - any action that would bring you in contact with it will be tagged [MADMIST], but it’ll be pretty obvious if you ever see it. It looks like a dense red cloud that sparkles a bit in the light. If you come in contact with it, follow the following instructions: 
Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 22:15 on Mar 8, 2018 |
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Feb 28, 2018 21:38
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Ringo is going for the puppet. Can’t post until later. Editing in my rolls. Flavor later Destroy the Puppet (Accuracy): 10d100+10+2+28 542 Destroy the Puppet (Reroll That 4): 1d100 98 636 total! I got it!  Brace for madmist roll Madmist: 1d10 3 Green Intern fucked around with this message at 22:12 on Feb 28, 2018 |
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Feb 28, 2018 22:01
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      Name: Portha Skills: Rummaging, Cleaning (cooldown), Imagining HP: 3/3 Glory: 13 The crossbow seized up with a loud sharp boom from the drum. Field test results proved that the weapon still needed a lot of work to reach its full potential. Fortunately, this was a good time to test the drum's unjamming mechanism, which worked by bashing it against something, in this case the wounded inhabited. Bash the ammo drum against enemy skulls: 1d100+13 52 e: edit does not equal quote. super sweet best pal fucked around with this message at 06:36 on Mar 7, 2018 |
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Feb 28, 2018 22:19
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Potrait:       Naim: Mason Skillz: Mason Hootin' an' Hollerin' +15 Mason MasonryMasonFlailing +25 HeeP: Mason Mason Mason Glury: Masonx4 -> 5 Flailing through the nearby Inhabited!: 1d100+29 +1 from Reed Blade 129
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Feb 28, 2018 22:39
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     Squad: Infiltration Skill: Sleuthing +20 (Using), Watching +20 (Used), Submission Holds (). HP: 2/3 Glory: 5 ----> 6 Humbug tore himself loose from the threads, flaying the skin from his arms as he wriggled and struggled with all his might. As Crai-Splut, dammit, confronted the doll, Humbug knew his gut instinct had been right. This Sikatris was a fake. "Humph. Thought so." Of course she hadn't been personally present - it was why she'd used her mental messages. Besides, she'd not struck him as dumb enough to be similar to Grimper, staying at the front of the battlefield whenever possible. It was why she'd seemed to focused, so distant. The sight of madmist seeping from her pores and mouth made him break out into a cold sweat, however. It was confirmation of his worst fears - the very thing he'd tried to wrangle out of her - the truth. Frö HAD weaponized Madmist. The Inhabited were immune. They were even working on a Cure. Every single damning fact pointed at them as being the Queen's true killers. No wonder she'd mocked him. Even so... what of The Outbreak in Tö-Town? Getting this news to the relay was more important than ever. But his own mission, too, seemed starkly important. "Listen! Stay clear of the Mist at ALL COSTS and Let Ringo handle the vector!" he screamed at his fellow Tö as Ringo - that reckless, magnificent bastard - charged in to bash the puppet to pieces before it could jump around the place and spread its deadly load. Seeing the situation handled, if not contained, he ran up to Cr-SPLUT and patted him on his back, his voice running a mile a minute. "Splut. The Queen's Palace - it was struck by Weaponized Madmist the night she died - Regency Council quieted it up. Frö has Madmist - drat them - but remember the Outbreak in Old Tö-Town? Something happened back then. If I go down here, find out what the Queen's Relic is - it was the only clue I could draw from the Commander. Here, my notes." He shoved his notebook into Craic's-SPLUT's- hands, then pulled out something else. The bottle of Makeshift Sacrifire, safely stuck in a padded pocket until now, came into his hands. He shook his head at the Captain's expression. "It's not for me. Sikatris - she's run her esprit all over town. This damned stuff lights it up, burns it out. It'll probably hurt if it empowers her but - fire and madmist, and her blowing herself to pieces... I have to at least try," he said grimly, then doffed his hat and ran for it. "That's right, Commander. If you want to have us kill ourselves..." he hissed, uncorking the brew and taking a final gulp of air as he ran off down the streets. He knew her threads would seek to contain and bind them up in the mist, even as they fled it. He needed a nexus point - a knot - and his mind ran a mile a minute to figure out where she'd hide such a thing. There. Several of her threads interconnected, shimmering blue with the fire of her esprit. "... then let's see if we can't have you join the fun," he finished furiously, waving the bottle threateningly, its contents sloshing. Sacrifire lit one's esprit at a gruelling personal cost - and Humbug intended to make that cost Sikatris'. Those many threads, full of her esprit, winding all around - with the Madmist flowing across them, an ignitable, burnable gas... this was beyond reckless - Ringo would applaud - but it was the only move he had left against someone who'd pull out this kind of a trump card against them. It'd surely hurt Sikatris more than it could hurt the Unexpectables. At least, that was what Humbug hoped as he attempted to pour the liquid out over the length of exposed thread, trying desperately not get tangled up in it before he could douse it fully. Set Sikatris on Sacrifire: 1d100+25+10(order) Scribbleykins fucked around with this message at 21:11 on Mar 1, 2018 |
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Feb 28, 2018 23:17
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         Extra Skillcores: Fashion +25, Secretly Murdering Innocents HP: 3/3 (3 wire) Glory: 23->24 Ignomity: -9 Ritual Glory: ->1 -- The puppets thread burned a mark into her skin, which was immediately and painfully replaced by one of her own, the OG artifact spinning her a new covering of fleshyarn. She hobbled away, then ran as she saw the telltale crimson doom spread all around her. "Neötypes! Madmist! Regroup! We push for the Thumbscrew, but avoid the mist at all costs!" Orders barked, she clambered up a nearby building, spiked boots again proving their worth, part desperate to get out of the streets and away from the madmist, and part in turn to get a better position from which to use her bow. She sighed. Inhabited, all of them. Hey boyfriend could be anyone, anywhere. And by the looks of the mask Dack was carrying around, there was no way to safely turn them off, either. Fine, if it had to be this way, she would go all out. Pressing against a nearby chimney, her four eyes surveyed the battlefield, until she found a target - arrow knocked and released - and another, knock, release. And another. Fashion to climb a nearby building to get into a sniping position!: 1d100+25+23-9 = 100 vs Pushing For the Thumbscrew.
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Feb 28, 2018 23:32
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     (d6+3)Gado!!! Skill: HP: 2/2 Glory: 5->6 Mutation Countdown: [x] [x] [x] [ ] [ ] Gado's claws clacked together in fear as the Madmisy spread out among the city streets. This wasn't looking particualry good for him, the mist would absolutely devastate any chances he had of surviving this encounter. Given a lack of options in the short term and a rapidly spreading hellmist, Gado goes with his first instinct. His claws had a rough go of getting through the street, but it was only a matter of moments before he'd made some headway and began frantically digging toward the Thumbscrew. quote:Pushing toward the thumbscrew: 60(20+35+5)
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Feb 28, 2018 23:52
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      Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry +35, Precision, Aiming, Leadership (Unconsumed) HP: 3 Glory: 48->49 Ritual Glory: 4 They were making progress. It was hard, bloody work, but the Horde was keeping it's momentum, pushing inexorably forward through the forces arrayed against him. As Gabber survived his close call with Knock's bolts, Noggins allowed herself to feel relieved. It was working. They were going to do this, nigh-impossible though it seemed. They would get out of this quagmire that Grimper had carelessly rushed them into with only minimal-- quote:"poo poo!" Noggins shouted as she rotated her skillcores. As bad as things had seemed, they had just gotten so, so much worse. Sikatris had planned all of this. The Inhabited, the Strings, the puppet, the Madmist... every single piece of the deathtrap working perfectly with all the others. She gritted her teeth and kept swinging, even as her arms ached with exertion. No, there had to be a way out of this, something she could do to keep everyone safe. There had to be. She would make one if there wasn't. She stopped, eyes scanning the scene, and then jumped back as a bolt from Knock clattered at her feet. She couldn't afford to stop again, but she'd already seen what she needed to. "TO THE RIGHT! THE MIST IS THINNER THERE!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. "Verika! Their sniper's still too far, try and keep the Inhabited from closing on us any further! Gabber, you take the--" she spotted Humbug out alone, doing something with the threads. Whatever it was, he was vulnerable. "Scratch that! Cover Humbug, he's going to get shot otherwise! Pythag, Somnö, we need to keep pushing! We've all got each other's backs here! Go!" Nailbreaker was roaring as it crushed through bone and carapace alike. She could work with that. She had to. Push Towards the Thumbscrew!: 1d100+48+35+5 139
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Feb 28, 2018 23:58
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     ||   Name: Trinh Skills: Taxidermy(+50, corrupted, using), Jumping(+15, cooldown), Dodging(+25) HP: 1/1 Glory: 15 -> 16 Ritual Glory: 1 Work was really piling up. Trinh could barely find enough sharp objects to hang all the head trophies on. Push For The Thumbscrew!: 1d500+10+15+50+2 405
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Mar 1, 2018 00:12
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            Name: Verika HP: 2/2 Skills: Perception +30 (active), Sniping +15 (cooling), Smithing +55 Equipment: Fröman Cuirass (+1), Iron Shield, Arrow Flatpack, Ornate Bowharp (+2), Ruddy Charger, Blixthäst (+5) Cosmetics: Nail and Fist Token, Agenou's Cape Sash, Sikatris Scarf, Basker Cloak, Slightly-Cracked Telescope, Jaune's Broken Nails Glory: 15 -> 16 Ritual Chits: 2 (artwork bonus) Noostra (Part 6): When the marionette of Commander Sikatris released the noxious red plumes of Madmist across Noostra's streets, Verika's Perception skillcore flared up in response. As her vision cut through the sparkling clouds, the Perceiver's mind was flooded with valuable information, her senses immediately inundated with precious combat data in the heat of battle. Verika could see all that was set before her in this urban battlefield, and it wasn't looking particularly good for the horde either. Between the endless onslaught of the Inhabited soldiers and the encroaching crimson Madmist, the Unexpectables were slowly but surely getting surrounded on all sides! Without more Tö-power or a good escape plan once they hit the Thumbscrew, Grimper and his horde would soon be overwhelmed... A rallying cry from Captain Noggins rang out through the streets, clearly perceptible to Verika's well-trained ears. Captain Noggins posted:"Verika! Their sniper's still too far, try and keep the Inhabited from closing on us any further!" "Röger, Captain!" Verika called back. She would follow her Captain's orders to the ends of the earth, wherever that may be. In one fluid motion, she readied her bow even as her steed Blixthäst leaped over a thick entanglement of bright blue threads. Verika was build to ride and to fire at the same time - here she was in her element. Verika rode a tight perimeter around the horde's main mass, firing arrow after arrow at all those Inhabited Noostrans who had the bad luck to be closest to the Sun Gate that day. Poor, wretched souls! Verika could see their movements, see how they were controlled like puppets by an unseen hand. At the very least, Verika could offer the Inhabited a swift and painless release from the struggles of this world. Verika let out a battle cry to bolster her comrades' confidence and charged along with the rest of the surging horde. It was time to push back and push forward! Verika Versus the Nearby Inhabited - Pushing Back with Panache!: 1d100+30+15+7+10 116
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Mar 1, 2018 01:58
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   Name: Gryph HP: 3/3 Glory: 19 => 20 Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10) The light from the tower flashed, but no red flowers bloomed. Gryph smiled. He missed. That's one shot down. Every shot that didn't hit was one more that the Horde didn't take and they had enough to deal with, given the Inhabited. But as the Horde cut their way through the masked throng, Gryph's eyes slid forward to the form of the enemy commander. Sikatris. Everyone said she was smart and capable. Even Grimper seemed afraid of facing her. Gryph's eyes narrowed But this isn't a fighter. She wouldn't beat Grimper's made for breaking. She wouldn't... be here... Gryph's eyes widened as the puppet of Sikatris ballooned out, and then started leaking red. MADMIST! Gryph hadn't had the time to develop a gas mask for working in it, and he knew for a fact that the Horde wasn't ready. Luckily, as he broke the window and climbed to a roof, he could see the Madmist spread. high above it, he catalogued the spread, the position of the Inhabited, and despaired. With the Inhabited immune and pushing the Horde in, the Mist itself would corral and trap them in the city, making them easy meat.Or just leave the mist to take care of us. Then the light from the sun dimmed as Starn pulled up from his attack run, and inspiration dawned. "Starn! Hob! Bring your mounts down low over the Horde, You'll keep the mists back from us! I'll handle the sniper" And then he was moving, his bow firing vaguely at the Thumbscrew, with no attempt to hit, merely to look like the most dangerous thing for the sniper to aim at. Vaulting over a roof, ducking behind a wall. And then he started trying to pull up a shield of tiles. He needed cover, dammit! Wrestling tiles out of the roof for Cover: Distraction!: 1d100+10+19 129 NATURAL 100! Natural 100 Roll!: 1d100 75 Final Distraction Roll: 204! Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 04:52 on Mar 7, 2018 |
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Mar 1, 2018 05:35
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      /// Cosmetic Items: /// Name: Gabber Skill: Mimicry {cooldown}, Listening(+30, using), Night Vision HP: 3/3 Glory: 14->15 Truthfully, he hadn't even really seen the sniper's shot - he'd been foolish to even think he'd be able to get his shield up in time against such a weapon, and such a shooter. No, it was the sound of it he heard a split second before lunging out of the way, no time for him to raise his shield arm. An all too fast *fwwwwht!* before a sudden pain shot through his face, and he clattered to the ground and off his charger in a heap. He felt pain, but far less than expected. Looking around he saw the missed bolt disintegrate into nothing, and quickly raised his hand up to his face, drawing away his own blood. Grazed. Could have been far worse. He was lucky. What was he thinking?! Posing as a target had been foolish, and he'd been inches away from his own death. Gathering his wits and scrambling back to his feet, Gabber raised his shield to watch for any follow up shot. Blessedly none came. Maybe the shooter saw him tumble from his saddle, and moved on to a new target? Whatever the reason he wasn't complaining, as he clambered back up in the saddle with all haste. Desperately looking around for Captain Noggins, he spotted the warrior shouting orders to the Knights and attempting to rally the troops forward as Noostra was consumed by madness - Inhabited by Madmist. Her eyes soon met his from across the way: The Lord of Hats posted:Gabber, you take the--" she spotted Humbug out alone, doing something with the threads. Whatever it was, he was vulnerable. "Scratch that! Cover Humbug, he's going to get shot otherwise! Humbug? Wasn't he suspended in the threads moments ago? Looking to where the Captain was pointing, he saw the unmistakable sight of their resident sleuth hovered over a dense tangle of threads, unmoving, and far from the grouped up Horde about to make a move down the street. Gabber wasn't sure what he was doing, but he knew Humbug had been their advance scout here - he had to imagine whatever he was doing may have been the result of some knowledge gained during his time here. Kicking his charger into gear, Gabber galloped towards the exposed Unexpectable with all haste. Dodging mooks and Inhabited fighting to the death as he went, he managed to reach the sleuth in quick order, deflecting a stray arrow from harming the man with his shield just in the nick of time. Humbug hadn't even flinched, too focused on what he was doing. Hadn't he noticed how exposed he was here?! Just what was he doi- Gabber's eyes widened as he ordered his horse a few quick steps backwards. Humbug was hovering over a dense knot of the the threads, uncorked bottle of Sacrifire clutched in front of him. Was he going to drink it?! Screaming out, "Nooo!" ("Nrrrr!"), Gabber got over his momentary shock and was about to charge forward to knock the bottle out of his hand, when he saw the sleuth begin to angle it forward, away from his mouth and towards the shimmering strands. Lighting the threads on fire! It was reckless, and Gabber had no idea if it would even work and/or work too well and blow them both up in the process; but was Gabber any safer out there among the Inhabited, a sniper, or the Madmist? Humbug was smart, and needed protecting, so he would do what he could to allow his plan to proceed. Dismounting his horse, Gabber ran up closer to the sleuth and readied his sword and shield. They'd do this together. As he got closer he watched as Humbug's hands shook badly - he appeared injured too, and given the circumstances anyone's nerves would be on edge. Gabber reached up to wipe away more blood from his face, feeling the fresh tear of his Drummer's Wrap in the process. Wait, drums..... With no close threats around them for the moment, Gabber sheathed his sword and swung his War Drum around to the front, having rigged it up with a makeshift contraption on his back. Agenou's forces had used the power of music to synchronize their actions - he'd only ever had one jam session with Rik before, but maybe, just maybe, it would help in this time of need? One hand clutching his shield and attempting to deflect any blows making their way towards Humbug, Gabber' tapped his Listening skillcore to help him keep a beat. Taking a deep breath, with his other hand he began a slow, steady drumbeat, increasing the speed slowly, trying to remember what he could of how Agenou's Drummers had done it... Using the War Drum - Aiding Humbug with a Beat!: 1d100+30(skillcore)+14(glory)+10(orders) 126In the midst of the chaos of battle, those nearby may have suddenly heard cut through the battle what sounded like an amateur drummer banging incoherently on a cheap drum. To Gabber, and hopefully Humbug, it sounds like the greatest drum solo of all time. quote:Actions: Task Manager fucked around with this message at 06:00 on Mar 1, 2018 |
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Mar 1, 2018 05:57
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     Cosmetic: Name: Hob HP 2/2 Glory: 9≥10 Ritual Glory : 1 Skill: Singing, Contortion+15 (using), Butterfly Riding+20 (cooling) Get the archer! Inch towards him through the sky! It was so slow, Hob couldn't wait for the Darter to hatch. Not only matching pink to his harness and bow, but much faster too! Focus! There was flying to do. Aagh, why were they releasing mad mist!? What was wrong with them? It was easy on a flyer to stay away from the billowing clouds, focus on Gryph posted:"Starn! Hob! Bring your mounts down low over the Horde, You'll keep the mists back from us! I'll handle the sniper" Of course. Hob want alone, his friends were down there on the ground, unsafe. Dipping low above the horde, tendrils of madmist blown away by the flapping wings of Gawp, Hob pushed forward towards the centre with the rest. He twisted himself in his harness, contorting his body out to one side before snapping it back in, sending Gawp swaying from side to side, blowing more mist away. He held on tight, it was harder flying like this but it could give his friends below more space to maneuver past the mist. push for the thumbscrew: 1d100+15+10+9 46 Aw rats rats rats too low! Hob pulled up sharply, away from the building he had almost careened into. To tight down in the street with Gawps turning circle. WereGoat fucked around with this message at 14:23 on Mar 1, 2018 |
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Mar 1, 2018 14:18
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     Name: Waesh Skills: Piracy +20, Grappling HP: 3/3 Glory: 4 -> 5 "Blast that Silkatris, what is she thinking," yells Waesh. "What is she going to do with Noostra once it is full of angry wendigoes!?" He hoped there wasn't some second trick behind the madmist trap. Some kind of device specifically aimed at incapacitating or controlling wendigoes? Would they fall back and let them tear each other apart in a frenzy? He sure hoped his fellow friendigoes would come through alright. He was initially superstitious about fighting along side such creatures, but he'd come to understand that the people were still there, underneath the extra limbs, eyes, and growths. "Forwards! We've got to get to that thumbscrew and end this!" All he could do was follow his orders, and hope Grimper could take care of Silkatris. With any luck, she wouldn't be able to hold up to his brutality in combat, given her penchant for manipulation and traps. Push towards the Thumbscrew: 1d100+12+5 57
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Mar 1, 2018 15:19
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      HP:3/3 Glory:43 Bluffing +20 (Cooldown) Charm +25 (Using) Camouflage +10 (Rebooting) Ritual Glory:0 Infiltrator Captain In his career with the Unexpectable Horde, Splut had been face to face with an apparent enemy commander three times. He had swarmed Agenou along with the bulk of the Horde, in a desperate gambit after the mutilation of their warlord. He had faced Jaune, previous owner of the helmet forcing the latest confrontation, alongside a mere dozen other hordelings in a sealed room and suffered for it. Neither of them came close to the sheer terror of the Commander that wasn't even there. He retreated at speed ahead of the billowing mist, removing the mask as soon as he was clear. He'd been made, by the enemy commander no less, and between Her and the Inhabited, there was no further use for Craic at present. Had she Inhabited the whole city, every man, woman and ch... Splut went white. He looked at the Inhabited, all of them at adult sizes. He looked at all the broken windows, some already wreathed in crimson gas. "You monster. You utter, utter monster. Everyone! Look out for very small unbranded Wendigoes!" It wasn't all unmitigated horror: Splut could not hide his relief as Humbug, worse for wear but alive and free, approached. He briefly embraced his fellow infiltrator, then listened intently to the debriefing. Scribbleykins posted:"Splut. The Queen's Palace - it was struck by Weaponized Madmist the night she died - Regency Council quieted it up. Frö has Madmist - drat them - but remember the Outbreak in Old Tö-Town? Something happened back then. If I go down here, find out what the Queen's Relic is - it was the only clue I could draw from the Commander. Here, my notes." Splut accepted them and tucked them safely away with a nod, about to comment on returning them after the battle when the other item caught his eye. Sacrifire! No! Don't do it! His face fell, his expression conveying shock and dismay... quote:"It's not for me. Sikatris - she's run her esprit all over town. This damned stuff lights it up, burns it out. It'll probably hurt if it empowers her but - fire and madmist, and her blowing herself to pieces... I have to at least try," he said grimly, then doffed his hat and ran for it. Relief, pride and admiration as Humbug clarified his plan, nodding curtly with a smile. "Then light that city-killing psychopath up, that's an order." Seeking out Hat, Marra and Gigs, he ordered, "Avoid the Mist, don't get entangled, cut yourselves free if you do, act on your own initiative to aid the Horde." Hefting his hammer, he waded into the wounded Inhabited, swinging precise headshots to end their... Creepy lack of the suffering they should be feeling? It was brutal work, so he turned on the charm to inspire the rest of the horde. "Civilians. Already dead, but the evil forced upon them tries to keep them moving. No-one deserves this fate! End them, end them swiftly, and with every swing and every breath curse the one who did this! Sikatris, poisoner of cities! Sikatris, enslaver of the innocent! Sikatris, unleasher of Madmist on every civilian who refused the mask, or was too young or frail to enslave! Remember her crimes! Remember her evil! This is why our fight is just and righteous!" Charm to inspire everyone to kill the injured inhabited: 1d100+71 131
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Mar 1, 2018 18:30
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    Cosmetic Items:Name: Neebs Skill(s): Sales (+15) Drinking (+20) (used this turn) Surgery (+15) (on cooldown) HP: 2/3 Glory: 11 + 1 posting glory => 12 Ach, those threads hurt; and she was dangerously close to the...madmist everyone seemed to be calling it? Nothing to do but continue pushing on towards the thumbscrew: (1d100ro2e100)+11+20+2! 73. Neeb's mount picked her up and she grabbed a nice bottle of brèw off of the saddle. She went somewhat wildly careening through some nearby inhabited swinging her brüm in one hand and quaffing her beverage with the other. All in all, not the most effective of tactics, but not a terrible effort either. She took a moment to air-toast Splut after he yelled out to everyone to kill the Inhabited.
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Mar 2, 2018 00:37
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   Name: Bamboo HP: 2/2 Glory: 40 + 1 (Action Glory) > 41 Skills: Virtuoso (+10) [COOLDOWN] Interior Decorating (+20) [ACTIVATE] -[Noostra]- Bamboo fell back from the onslaught as she backed away from the side street; her bent and broken shield testament to the ineffectiveness of her contributions thus far. They had been waiting for her; between that and the release of the Madmist, Bamboo’s worst suspicions had been confirmed; The Horde was being lead to their very own ‘kill-floor’, where the noose would close, and the slaughter would commence. “We can’t play their game, can’t play their game, need to change the rules, change them right now; Sikatris is palming the ball, she’s not even in-play right now!” Grimper’s right; the only way out is through, except it had to be by an exit of their own making, and not the baited lure that is a frontal assault up the main boulevard. There’s no other way for it; Bamboo’s had to brave the Madmist; if Humbug was right, this wouldn’t be the first time for her either. She charged once more down a different side street, taking the deep inhale of the Madmist in her path. If this was her ‘Doom’, then so be it; this time though, Bamboo’s would use the red fog as cover, and ‘rearrange’ the side streets to her advantage. She would ‘interior decorate’ her way through. Action > ‘Spreading Out’ and ‘Interior Decorating’ her way through the Madmist: 1d100+40+20 113 [1d100=53] > Madmist effect roll (1): 1d10 3 [1d10=3] Bamboo gains a minor mutation and -10 next roll.
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Mar 2, 2018 00:39
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   Name: Jö, the Nailed Fostis Butcher Skills: Butchery (CD), Impatience +15 (using), Clouting HP: 3/3 Glory: 5 > 6 Roll Modifiers: -9 all rolls Must obey all orders: Immune to orders from Hob Wife: Söndra Daughters: Ewön: Age 5, Ami: Age 3 Items: -War Drum (STOLEN, meant for Ewön  )-Froman Sword +1 -Belmysut Guard Uniform +1 -Killer Koffin +2 -Baby Boarlet "Argh, I hope nobody goes breaths in the mist over there near the thumscrew! That would be bad news!" shouted a random hordeling. Jö hadn't been paying attention up until now (he was having a great time buying his choice cuts at the market!), but someone about this person's tone got to him. What was the big deal? What mis---- Oh. That mist. It looked like bad news. He would just start heading back to the Sun Gate to get out of to- Random Hordeling posted:I sure hope some [muffled] Joe Tö doesn- [muffled] BREATHE IN THE GAS NEAR THE THUMBSCREW! That would be terrible. He wouldn't [muffled] into a monster! Poor Joe better go! Oh, hey, it looks like there are some cool things happening over near the Thumbscrew. Wow, look at the crowd! Jö hurried on over, as fast as he could go! RECKLESSLY head toward the Thumscrew party!: 1d100-9+5+15+1 87 Mad-missed?!?!: 1d10 8
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Mar 2, 2018 01:12
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       Sucy HP: 3 Glory: 32 -> 33 Skills: Mushrooms +15 Kicking +45 Fishing +10 With her drum performance finished, Sucy packed the mushroonome back up and handed the drums off to Grumbus, just as yells were starting to go up from the main market square. Apparently Sikatris had released Madmist, in order to funnel the horde to where she wanted them. Thanks to Grimper's idiotic lack of planning, they were outnumbered in a hostile city and were only going deeper and deeper into the traps Sikatris had set. Sucy grit her teeth and cursed their warlord under her breath. Still, she wouldn't get out of here without the rest of the horde, so time to try and flip the script on Sikatris. She pulled out her ring, slipped it on and began searching the city for the large quantities of Esprit that was contained in Commanders and Warlords. Though the many strings that criss-crossed throughout the city made finding her difficult. ------- After she pulled the ring off again, she was quickly reminded of the mortal danger that they were all in, as a sniper shot impacted in the street close to her. That sniper was a threat they could not do much against at the moment, but the OGs had given her a tool with which she could distract him in relative security. She slipped her ring on again and began writing: quote:Dear Sir: While it took quite a while to write this all out using the ring's strange interface, this was the one resource she had plenty of, thanks to the time dilation it provided. Having finished the first, she set off to write more, the constant scrolling text should distract the enemy sniper something fierce. In a short break in between messages, Sucy spotted Bamboo breaking away from the main body of the horde, running head first into the madmist. She yelled after her: Bamboo, stop running off on your own, we need to maintain cohesion if we want to push through to the Thumbscrew, splitting up and spreading out will get us picked off piecemeal! Summary Find out where Sikatris is using the ring Phishing Knock: 1d100+32+10+10 129 Tell Bamboo to stay with the Horde sheep-dodger fucked around with this message at 15:20 on Mar 2, 2018 |
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Mar 2, 2018 03:05
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          Name: Stårn Skills: Siege Weapons +20, Butterfly Beastmaster, Timing +25 HP: 3 Glory: 11->12 Stårn patted the head of his mount affectionately, inspecting the cracks to its exoskeleton meanwhile, "You did well, boy", he whispered to it, "But we're not out of the woods yet. There is still Sieging to be done..!" Torchlighter posted:
Stårn grinned as he heard the plan. Not a bad plan at all! "Sucy", he yelled, "Help out Gryph in distraction detail! We don't want our fliers shot out from the sky!" With a pat on the side, Stårn guided his mount from the rooftop over the horde, the giant flaps of its wings hopefully helping to keep the worst of Madmist from advancing on them. He loaded ammunition into his portable Önäger to launch towards the enemy on their way meanwhile. "As for the rest of you, Siege Team Six", he bellowed, "HOLD THE LINE! Our advance CANNOT lose momentum!" Too bad that his mount was still a bit wobbly after taking its wounds, and Stårn noted he had remarkable trouble avoiding the threads. Not good for his Sieging prospects. "Sucy", he yelled, "Hand over those drums to Grumbus! I feel flutters here still needs some rhythmic assistance to get his bearings!" Siege Team Six (except for Sucy and Grumbus) is ordered to engage the Inhabited or push towards the Thumbscrew, and they gain +10 to that regard, except for Sucy who has a special task to distract the Sniper. Also, Grumbus is to DRUM my poo poo roll so that Threads won't own me, they get +10 to do this Siege Weaponing the Nearby Inhabited with my Tiny Önäger: 1d100+41=46 roll is 45 but I forgot to account for +1 from my weapon Theantero fucked around with this message at 14:20 on Mar 2, 2018 |
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Mar 2, 2018 13:57
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Update is coming 'eventually'™, no sense rushing while many people haven't posted yet. Word of caution: The Slipknot Tango still applies to those who roll 9 or below on their base rolls, only this turn it'll be dragging you through Madmist too! As for how that interacts with Ringo having pasted the puppet - we'll see!
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Mar 2, 2018 20:24
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Squad: Infiltration Skill: Sleuthing +20 (Using), Watching +20 (Used), Submission Holds (). HP: 2/3 Glory: 5 ----> 6 Humbug's bloodied arms shook with anger and pain as he raised the bottle of Sacrifire, but movement out of the corner of his eye had him freeze. The sleuth swore loudly as a loop of string closed around him and he cursed himself for a fool. It was only natural for a node of threads like this to have some-string protecting it, but he'd rushed and committed himself before spying the danger. Taken by surprise he could only let the thread close in around him, a yarwning beast, ready to swallow him whole. A frantic tam-ta-ta-ta-tam-ta-ta put a sudden jolt of electric motion in his body and roused him from his despair. It wasn't over yet, it seemed to communicate. Humbug cried out, realizing the truth of it, and dove towards the thread, narrowly falling beneath it and hitting the cobblestones. He rolled away while cradling the open Sacrifire bottle with both hands, stoppering its open top with a thumb during the tumble and shielding it with his body. It sizzled and stung unpleasantly, the liquid churning and bubbling as a stray drop of blood burnt itself out within, but the pain would be worth the contents' preservation. Clambering back to his feet, eyes wide after the close call, the Sleuth glanced behind himself to find the source of the rousing beat. He hadn't suspected to see Gabber the Mime, in his familiar alloyed armour, pounding his stolen war drum with furious abandon. Humbug laughed and gratefully saluted with a free hand. "Hmm! And here I thought you were supposed to be the silent one!" he commented, heartfelt gratitude thick in his voice. Revitalized by the Mime-knight's support, the sleuth moved to their rhythm, darting back and forth to avoid getting wrapped up by the loose thread and get back at the knit-node. He knew from harsh experience against Agenou's Band how hard it could be to predict a person moving to someone else's beat - and hopefully the tune would not be as familiar to the enemy commander as to Humbug, who at least knew how to walk his beat. Set Sikatris on Sacrifire is now at 107
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Mar 2, 2018 21:47
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  ;Name: Hat Skills: Millinery (+15), Backflips (+20) HP: 3/3 Equipment: Knightly Spear (+3), String-Slayer Armour (+2), Tuned Shield, Lucky Pearl; Glory: 38 -> 39 Ritual Glory: 1 It felt like Hat had only been in the thread's evil cocoon for a minute, but the battlefield outside had changed considerably. Plumes of red gas were wafting up from Sik- the puppet, as Ringo valiantly jumped into battle with the balsa-wood replica. Overhead, the butterfly-riders tried their best to divert the poison away from the Unexpectables. Inhabited bodies lay on the floor, and more and more seemed to be coming out of the buildings to replace the fallen. The occasional arrow still flew over the heads of the Horde, none thankfully finding their targets for now. The Horde seemed to be split in two large bodies, one pushing for the Thumbscrew while avoiding the Madmist, the other fighting off the closest Inhabited citizens. After her recent close call in the puppet's strings, Hat was more than ready to spill some blood. A shame she'd left her scarf back at camp with the hat-making gear; it didn't feel right leaving her mouth uncovered while that vile stuff was still in the air. Hat tensed her legs, and jumped to the nearest building, overlooking the nearby Inhabited. Readying her spear, she picked her target and jumped. Using Backflips to push back nearby Inhabited: 1d100+39+20+3 131 Nice!
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Mar 3, 2018 00:37
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Name: Verika HP: 2/2 Skills: Perception +30 (active), Sniping +15 (cooling), Smithing +55 Equipment: Fröman Cuirass (+1), Iron Shield, Arrow Flatpack, Ornate Bowharp (+2), Ruddy Charger, Blixthäst (+5) Cosmetics: Nail and Fist Token, Agenou's Cape Sash, Sikatris Scarf, Basker Cloak, Slightly-Cracked Telescope, Jaune's Broken Nails Glory: 16 Ritual Chits: 2 (artwork bonus) Noostra (Part 7): Verika had rounded to the back of the horde, acting as its rearguard. She and the others were keeping the nearby Inhabited at bay, killing those who strayed too close from the side streets and alleyways. Some stragglers in the horde had opted to stayed behind, finishing off the maimed and wounded Inhabited before they could get back onto their feet and become a problem later on down the road. It was grim but necessary work, and Verika aimed to protect those fighters from her mobile vantage point. From atop Blixthäst, Verika could see over the heads of most of the horde as they advanced through Noostra's streets in their professionally-organized-moblike fashion. They were going to do this, clean and by the book. All the horde needed to do was to stick together. If it shaped itself like the head of a spear or the shaft of an arrow, the horde could pierce the city through and and make an exit for itself on the other side. They would go in through Sun Gate and go out through Moon gate, easy! It would be perfect, Verika thought, we just can't get separated- Just as Verika was relaxing in her saddle, she spotted the Tögirl Bamboo split off from the main group and run directly into the Madmist, clearly giving in to some kind of panic attack. Hadn't that girl just tried to do the same thing mere moments ago, and failed? Only one block prior, Bamboo the Vituouso had suddenly broken off from the horde to charge down a side alley - a charge that had done nothing but split up the horde and injure the hordemembers she took along with her. Now she was doing it again, only this time she'd be running a bunch of misguided mooks through some Madmist, too. It was as dangerous as it was ill-advised. "Nobody follow her in!" Verika commanded, to any of those who might consider following in the girl's reckless footsteps. Those who had joined Bamboo on her last charge were too injured to do it again. "You three-" Verika pointed to three healthy Nailbound. "Bring that Tögirl Bamboo back. She's going to get herself killed if she keeps this up. Defend her from the enemy if you have to." Verika watched as the three Nailbound leapt into the Madmist, dissatisfied. "Hells, you six-" Verika picked out six other lightly-injured Nailbound from the crowd. "Join the others - help them bring Bamboo back in one piece." There: nine Nailbound to accompany Bamboo. Hopefully that should be enough.
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Mar 3, 2018 04:49
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    Skills:Spreading Disease (+15)[CD], Cursing, Patience(+25) HP: 3/3 Glory: 4 Grumbus reluctantly accepted the war drum from Sucy. Uh oh, Cap'n Stårn must not have known that Grumbus's sense of rhythm was burned away in the Indigo Fever outbreak of '43! But Grumbus resolved to try his best because the Boss needed him! He experimentally slapped his palm against the drum's surface, stopping after a few beats because it sounded like utter trash even through the feverish haze that Grumbus experienced life through. But the boss was in trouble, so Grumbus kept trying. Patiently Drummin' for the Boss: 1d100+10+25+6 92 After a few false starts, Grumbus finally managed to settle on something that he thought sounded alright. As an afterthought, Grumbus look the long end of his scarf and wiped away the stains his grubby hands had left upon the drum's surface. He was pretty sure this was the drum Jö intended to give to his kid or something. Even though the Nailbound's vacant stare kinda creeped him out, Grumbus thought he was alright.
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Mar 3, 2018 07:30
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   Cosmetics:  Skill 2: Amputation+15 Skill 3: Spinning+30 HP: 1/1 Glory 22 Qwäg's many eyes and many-er teeth gleamed in the sanguine glow of flames diffused through murderous banks of Madmist. If any part of her bestial self longed to simply let go, to throw itself into that cloud and let come what may, it was firmly locked away behind the steely discipline of the Risker. Instead, hearing the signal from her Captain, Qwäg peered into the smoke and chaos, and let the luminous threads of risk coalesce into a clear course forward, plotted to take her toward the Thumbscrew without encountering any Madmist. Anything else she encountered? Well, they'd quickly discover what it was like on the business end of a Wendigo on a mission. Push for the Thumbscrew!: 1d500+50+22+10+2 482
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Mar 3, 2018 16:49
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     Name: Dack Skills: A̵̕t̷͢͡͏̡h̷͟͡͏ļ̵̶̧̀ę̷̢͡t̨̧͘i̵̕҉̴͡c̢͘͜͠s͏̨́̕ (Using), Ą̀͠c̵̢͡͠͏r̴̸̛͝͡o͘͢͜͡b͜à̵̡̕t̷̢̀͜i̸̸͞c͘͟s̀͜͟ (used last round), Laughing +25 Unused Skillcores: E̸n͜҉̛͡ģ̛̕i̡̕͟͡͠n̢͘͢e̶͝e̵̵̡͢ŗ̕͏í̶̧͞͡n҉̴̢́̕g̷̛͢ HP: 1 Glory: 24>25 The longer the battle went, the more Dack came to understand why Grimper would go so far out of his way to try and kill Sikatris. And worst of all, she wasn't even here! She had turn the city's people into Inhabited, released Madmist in Noostra's streets, but never bothered to show up personally. Was Sikatris really that scared of the Unexpectables that she would sacrifice so many just to slow them down? If she had wanted to kill Grimper and his horde, this didn't seem like the best way of doing that. Well, if there was still more to Sikatris's plans, it's not like Dack could figure it out, so might as well focus on clearing a path for now. After switching Boarealis's harness over to the front side, Dack picks up as much speed as he can. Once he had a clear path to the mass of Inhabited, he flopped onto his back, spinning on his shield while barreling through the enemy horde. Push for the Thumbscrew, Turtle Style: 1d500+50+24+10+1 569 Astus fucked around with this message at 22:27 on Mar 8, 2018 |
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Mar 3, 2018 22:48
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Aiming for a tomorrow update. Hold your breath so you don't mutate!
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Mar 4, 2018 17:34
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  Pythag HP: (3) of (3) Skills: * +10 Math (available) * +10 Headshotting (using) * +15 Fearlessness (cooldown) * +10 Honor (uninstalled) Equipment: * +5 Armor * Iron Shield * Bowharp * Arrow Flatpack * +10 Feral Warboar Cosmetics * Nail and Fist Token Glory: 16>17 Ritual Glory: 1 Push Towards Thumbscrew: 1d100+46 = 86
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Mar 4, 2018 17:42
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Dog Kisser posted:Aiming for a tomorrow update. Hold your breath so you don't mutate! Which button is that? One of the bumpers?
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Mar 4, 2018 21:02
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   Name: Somnö Skills: BIGNESS +20, Jumping +25 (using), Smashing +20 (cooldown) HP 3/3 Gear: Ball and Chain (+1), Drummers Garb XXXL (+2), Iron Shield, Armored Charger Cosmetics: Nail and Fist Token, A shitload of Jaune Nails Status: Captain's Orders (+10 to Push Forward) Glory: 18 Ritual Glory: 1 do whatever Noggins said Springing to Secure the Screw: 1d100+18+10+25+3+1 132
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Mar 6, 2018 23:47
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The air was red and thick. Tiny particles suspended within caught the light and scattered it, giving the entire haze an unearthly glow. The killing fog, responsible for so many lost in the outbreak in Tõ-Town, now threatened the Unexpectable Horde. And it also threatened Noostra itself. Though the populace had apparently 'agreed’ to wear the masks (some choice, given the alternative), what about the plants and animals in the city? Hells, what about the children? Though the Inhabited were all shapes and sizes, there was a marked absence of juvenile figures. Horrifying visions of mutilated, monstrous infants flashed through the minds of several of the more compassionate Unexpectables, some of whom were parents themselves. Those monsters. And why, to hold back a handful of Töan soldiers and their Warlord? This was worth consigning these fragile bodies to a living hell? No… it had to be in defense of the Thumbscrew, had to have something to do with the report Grimper wished to send. If it was important enough to drive these people to such suicidal acts… press on, Horde! --- The Inhabited were tenacious, the Horde had to give them that. They fought inexhaustibly, without care for injury or morale, until they were brought down - and even, as Splut ruefully discovered, afterwards. Unless their masks were wrenched off or their heads pulped, the uncanny things kept coming. So, first order of business was to do just that. He rallied his neighbors and together they set about the grim business of squashing resistance.
 It wasn't enough. The masked creatures overwhelmed them, inflicting massive damage with their sheer mass before they were damaged enough to be thrown off. The Horde retreated, pressing in towards their brethren pushing for the Thumbscrew… something had to give, or they'd be surrounded and crushed under the hammer of an entire city. In the distance, in every direction, more came on. (Wuh oh! Even though they're not individually all that dangerous, there's a lot of them - and failure to hold them back means it'll only be worse next time. Dofro, Rik, Shiny, Otter, Beco, Spleen, Spanks, Tix and 22 Mooks take 1 Damage!) --- But not everyone was trapped. Bamboo the Virtuoso charged into the mist, calling for the others to follow. Her allies shouted caution as she left, but she knew better. The mist was a known danger, but wasn't it just as dangerous to stay in a single mass? What if the enemy had something as fearsome as the Breakerfly? She grimaced. If they'd come to Noostra the first time it had been suggested, like she'd wanted, they could have caught the enemy off guard. Now the whole city was falling down on them. Now she, the little Pawn (the last Pawn - don'tthinkaboutit) needed to cross the board under fire to become something more. Alone, if need be. Only she wasn't alone. Nine others - Nails throwing off the ruddy light they reflected from all around - stood around her, reaching out for her. They'd come to stand by her. She smiled and ran through the mist as they chased her.
 (Bamboo and nine of the Nailbound (hey didn't Grimper say he needed those guys for something?) successfully break away from their pursuers and get away. Only slightly mutated ...and one infected with a terminal mutation disease! You'll get special options for what to do next with your little crew, stay tuned.) -- Sucy the Mushroom Farmer searched the city. Now that she knew what she was looking for, it would be easy... right? She slipped the ring on for a pulse of strange vision. It gave her a headache because the lines crisscrossing the city were all dimly visible, giving her private world a hell of a lot more light than she was used to. They were at once straight as an arrow in a grid and curved inwards on themselves like a weight holding down a sheet. It wasn't an illusion or a trick of the eye, it was simply both at once, and it made her nauseous. Instead, she focused on the nexus, the point where they all met - Sikatris. Only, no it wasn't. In the 'real' world, that mapped to the puppet. She frowned, then ducked. Right, the Sniper. She spent so much 'time' in the dark world that she sometimes forgot time passed out here. She fired off a 'quick' message to him, hoping to blind and distract him, but it looked like the others had it well in hand. She slipped the ring on again and looked at the nexus. There was a line leading away from it. Several, even. She looked this way and that, at a web of connections she somehow hadn't seen before. She knew somehow they were all within the city limits - all part of her local network, whatever that meant. So Sikatris was within the city... but appeared to be untraceable. Appeared to be. She had all the time in the world in here, and nothing was stopping her from pulling on the threads to see where they lead, and then to see where those were attached, and so on until she found her. She hadn't found her yet, but she'd keep trying. --- Gryph did not know what he was doing up here. An impossibly accurate sniper, with an improbably long ranged weapon, was taking shots at the Horde… and here he was, putting himself in harm's way. On the other hand, for a medic this was actually proactive - anyone he saved here was less work for him later! That didn't stop his heart from pounding in his ears. He fixed his eyes on the Sniper’s nest, partway up the spire, and took a deep breath. He glanced at the others, nearby, and nodded. Then he… waved his hands like an idiot. Jumped around. But, miserably, he wasn't shot at. He felt briefly offended that the fiend would pass him over, then grew serious. People would die out there, touched by these fingers of death, unless he could stop them. His Nail burned in his side as it activated, and he pulled a reflective roof tile up and flickered light at him.
(Poor Knock can’t seem to hit the broad side of a barn! Sucks to be him!) --- Ringo ignored everything else. Though his vision crazed with half-glimpsed warnings and proximity alerts, he found he could dismiss them with a measure of will. Or at least silence them; whatever the OG had done to his body had left him with an instinctive distaste for mutagens that he could not entirely forget. The puppet. The damned Commander had played them, not even bothering to be present as she casually consigned the city to ruin. He clicked his tongue and charged the callous thing, blasting through the mist that enshrouded it before colliding - Goad first - with its midsection.
 (Ringo mutates lightly, but he’s a strong boy! He’ll be okay! His reckless action also gives +1 to the Banner! More on the effects of killing the Puppet later!) --- All the while, the Puppet's threads pulled people in, dragging the inextricably towards the Madmist - but Humbug had a plan. Sacrifire triggered something on contact with Esprit (a small portion of which, he inferred, was present in everyone, just a hell of a lot more in Commanders and Warlords and whatnot), and these lines were infused with it. What might happen if the two contacted one another? Only one way to check. He dumped a drop of Sacrifire onto a nearby line and watched. The ruby liquid dropped viscously on the line and exploded, showering him with pebbles and bits of fluff. Interesting. He dumped the whole mess on another and hauled rear end, jumping through a nearby store window.
When Humbug chanced a glance at the scene only grids of scorches remained of the Slipknot Tango, and the Madmist above the square burned slowly, twisting violently like a thing alive. He shuddered, then nodded. Those who'd been caught by the Tango were freed - they were burned and raw from dragging and laceration, but they were free. He gave them a brittle thumbs up and they blinked at him as though to say “what the hell was that!?” He shrugged, as though to say “it was an experiment, and a rather successful one, if I do say so myself.” The Unexpectables were very talented at saying quite a lot with very little context. (With the Puppet down and the lines blazed up, Slipknot Tango ends. Due to the success here, the effect ended soon enough to prevent damage or infection! In addition, most of the Madmist around the square is burned away.) --- With the traps and most of the mist cleared, the Warlord led his troops cautiously into the square. A great cloud yet remained between them and their destination - and a contingent of unharmed Inhabited besides. Grimper laughed. “How many more of these bodies are you willing to throw against me, Weaver? With my Horde, I can-” Jö ran into the cloud, yelling. Grimper’s bravado trailed off as they watched him.
Jö rerolls for Madmist Infection! 1d10=6! He is unharmed!
The few Nailbound that did nearby downed their Sacrifires dutifully and doubled over in pain. Grimper blinked in confusion. He looked around as though for the first time and counted. “Where the HELL are the other 'Bound?” A few murmurs indicated they'd been ordered to follow Bamboo in her mad attempt to spread out their forces to gain another line of entry. “Ordered by whom!?” Awkward silence. Verika slid out of sight. “drat it all, I should have locked them off from your commands! Fine - you nine, unleash your rage! The nine former Fostisians dropped to hands and knees, their eyes bleeding molten droplets of magenta flames, luminous drool (or blood) flecking their lips. They stiffened as they listened to his words, then sprang, rushing at the gated entrance to the Thumbscrew’s base.
 They blurred through the air, the horrid flames burning their bodies from within. They pounded against the heavy iron door, the force of their blows denting it even as their fragile bodies shattered under the impacts. Cracks appeared in the Bound, light blazing through the fissures like water through broken crockery. With every gobbet of flesh boiled off their bodies, they moved faster, until they were a bright blur of fire barely maintaining Fröman shape. And then, one by one, they burst, their energies expended in a directed blast that stove in the gates and sent the doors clattering down a wide hallway beyond. “Advance, my Horde!”  --- (Alrighty, you heard the man. Nine Nailbound down, but that saved you an update cycle to break that interior gate - worth it! Twelve of you (eleven and Sucy, rather) volunteer to go inside. Ideally you ought to do this if you're a frequent poster since being AI rolled might be dangerous. The rest of you can entrench yourself - you'll probably be fighting overwhelming odds for a few rounds, so hold on tight! Bamboo’s Dangerous Adventure Jamboree Bamboo and nine Nailbound, alone in the city! Alone and surrounded by baddies, rather. But you are a small group, and you’re not completely awful at stealth. Maybe you can find another route out? Maybe you can find some hidden clues? Maybe you’ll die? Naturally, you can delegate your Bound as you want - they’ll do anything you ask without question. Caution - one of them has contracted Rampant Monsterism (countdown at 4 turns starting next turn), and the others got mutated slightly. Madmist will be unpleasant for them, and for Bamboo too, for that matter.
Like Grimper said, twelve of you (eleven including Sucy). Techincally Sucy doesn’t need to come, but he’s insistent your ring does. Up to you.
Those left behind. Don’t let your Warlord down, soldiers!
Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 22:31 on Mar 8, 2018 |
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Mar 7, 2018 04:53
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Art tomorrow, wrote this on my phone at work today - also expect some small additions (as usual) as I notice individual character notes when I reread your posts. I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to shine!
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Mar 7, 2018 04:55
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HP:3/3 Glory:44 Bluffing +20 (Using) Charm +25 (Cooldown) Camouflage +10 Ritual Glory:0 Infiltrator Captain The entire point of the Infiltrators was to go in deep and make sure the enemy's trickery wasn't going to work: Splut duly volunteered as the second of the Dozen after Sucy, and ordered his squad to do likewise if they felt they were up to it. "Infiltrators! Tasks like this are our bread and butter. If you're willing to volunteer, then come on in, keep your eyes open, and learn what we can. If not, make sure our escape routes are clear and aid the Horde as best you are able on your own initiative." He waded in to battle alongside the Warlord, primary skillcore whirring into use as he swung his hammer in a direct, blunt and frank manner at Inhabited heads. Killing everyone on the way in, using the hammer in a direct, blunt and frank manner (bluff): 1d100+67 75
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Mar 7, 2018 05:25
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Cosmetics: Skill 2: Amputation+15 Skill 3: Spinning+30 HP: 1/1 Glory 23 Something in Grimper's command resonated with the Assessor's senses. The relay tower shone with threads of Risk, beckoning her onward. Without taking so much as a moment to flick the Fröman blood from her saw, Qwäg shouldered her way past the thronging Unexpectables and rushed inside. As the Inhabited inside rushed her, Qwäg grinned with dark relish and began her whirling dance of ending. KILL EVERYONE: 1d500+30+23+2+10 392 Bee Bonk fucked around with this message at 20:53 on Mar 7, 2018 |
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Mar 7, 2018 05:30
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Name: Waesh Skills: Piracy +20 (using), Grappling HP: 3/3 Glory: 5 -> 6 With the valiant push and subsequent shattering of Thumbscrew gate via nailbound, Waesh quickly volunteers for Grimper's backup. "Interiors are much more of me speciality, mateys." It just happened to be a coincidence this would keep him closest to the most powerful warrior in the horde! As the warlord stomps his way forwards, Waesh and co quickly follow him inside. He'd never been inside a Thumbscrew Relay before! Who knows what kind of booty might be ripe for plunder here? Important places like this had to have something good lying around, and surely with the warlord here, they wouldn't need every man fighting... Grab anything important or valuable looking: 1d100+20+6 EDIT: Field promotion to The Infiltrators gives an order bonus of +10 for 124. Captainicus fucked around with this message at 06:25 on Mar 8, 2018 |
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Mar 7, 2018 05:32
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Name: Portha Skills: Rummaging, Cleaning, Imagining HP: 3/3 Glory: 14 Portha had been angry at the jerk in the tower since the start of the fight. How dare he upstage her shiny new crossbow with his fancy artifact bullshit. Time to line up a shot. Imagine where the right position to fire from could be, imagine what the proper trajectory was, think about what he might do while other people are firing or trying to distract him, then finally imagine the sound of an arrow hitting a Fröman skull. Take out the sniper: 1d100+37 117 Dog Kisser posted:Porth - Imagining Self-Resonates! +15 Dog Kisser posted:Portha's Imagining has Self-Resonated - it increases in power to +15. Cooldown is refreshed, also.  20? I'm just going to roll 15 until I get a ruling on this. e: 20 it is. super sweet best pal fucked around with this message at 06:19 on Mar 9, 2018 |
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Mar 7, 2018 06:33
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Cause HP 2/3 Skills: Archeology (using), Balance (cooldown) Glory13->14 Taking Notes had been the exclusive subject of 2 classes each of every year of Cause's education, and he'd been good at it. Not as much joy in it as punching invading fascists, of course, (Cause's mind scurried past several uncomfortable implications) but an important subject nonetheless. Taking in every detail of a site was no less important, and so Cause scribbled madly. Taking Notes!: 1d100+14+10 105
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Mar 7, 2018 06:36
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