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Damnation - North Jungle Damnation nods as their invaluable doctor patches up the old priest. "Thank you, Butterfly. As always, your assistance is greatly appreciated." He then turns to Never-Within-Reach. "Would you mind ensuring we aren't spotted by enemy spies, Never? It'd be best that no one be allowed to give Brother Cleansing Tide advance notice of our position, and I highly doubt his spies can dodge or survive your arrows." Thinking about having his best archer range away from him, he thinks of one more thing to mention. "Are you linked to the minds of Wyrm and Watcher at the moment?"
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Jan 13, 2013 22:01
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Jackal Face Master - Rehearsal within the Ship "Mwahahaha! Isn't all of life but a play? 'Tis so, that I, Jackal, will play such a part on that amusing scheme, so be it. It will make for good entertainment for me as well to delude those fools with my glib! Surely, my royal appearance and mighty presence will be enough for the uneducated maggots on that island to think that I, Jackal, am but an Imperial Noble." The Moonshadow says as he gives a haughty guffaw. "Very well, let us depart to this smelly island and give these people the show of their lives. Harbour Carried by four submissive-looking men dressed in gray wool robes is Jackal's throne, an elaborate seat of red silk and gold, each part of it adorned with small rubies and adorned inscriptions on the golden edges, making it teeter on the fine line that divides gaudiness from elegance. His expression atop the throne as he looks at the men in the harbour is one you'd normally see in someone observing ants from atop. He knows he's superior than you, and makes no effort to hide so. He gives Wyrm a sly look as he speaks. "Now, now, dear, let us start this incredibly droll charade. Carry me below, you yellow-bellied reptiles! Let these fools on port know that I, Regal Unbowed Dragon, have arrived at this mudball they call Petraya!"
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Jan 13, 2013 22:57
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Never Within Reach -North Beach Never frowned. She was quite interested in the injured shaman and wanted to see what he had to say once Butterfly was finished with him. But a scout's work was never done, apparently. "The harbor is too far for communication." she admitted. It was a limitation she was unhappy with, and would seek to remedy as soon as possible. Watcher was of course nearby but he seemed to be somewhat distracted with his new skeletal minions and Damnation was the one keeping the group focused. She tilted her head at Damnation and let her mind touch his. He answered immediately and the link was cleanly established. <I will be in touch.> She spoke through the bond, and set off. Never flew low, skimming the tops of the trees with her essence sight on, looking for any curious spirits, gods, or Dragonbloods foolish enough to attempt to spy on them. She did a quick pass around the beach, kicking up sand with the beats of her wings, before heading a short ways inland. Might as well attempt to find any hidden villages while she was at it. There hadn't been time to do a comprehensive sweep on her first flyover. Keeping the sun at her back and riding the warm thermals that pocketed the area, the Abyssal was as silent as a hawk and near to invisible to anyone looking up. Not even the leaves on the trees shifted in her wake. Activating Screaming In Silence with Damnation (5m) Per+Aware = 5 sux, + Superior Sight Mastery (3m) for 2 autosux, gives me 7 sux on spying out the immediate area. Dex+Stealth+1spec = 10sux (on 9 dice!) 2nd Stealth Excellency (8m) for 4 sux = 14 sux. I am the goddamn Batman.
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Jan 14, 2013 04:53
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Watcher at the Gates of Sorrow The admiral cackles maniacally as he trudges on the shore, surrounded by shark cartilage. Sickeningly large footprints in the shape of fins collect small pools of water in his wake; naturally, he is a bit distracted. The other boat's scout disappears completely, which prompts an approving nod. He gives a sidelong glance at Damnation, who seems to be handling things well. Even better, it means I don't have to share my head. He gives a smile. This is going to be fun.
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Jan 14, 2013 05:20
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Daughter of Onyx & Silver A gurgling in what used to be Onyx's stomach demanded attention. Empty night, she was hungry. First things first. The crew might be off-limits except as emergency rations, but nothing of the sort was true of the islanders. Or the animals on the island. Or something. Reluctantly, Onyx leaves her Swift Rider on the ship: for a stealth mission, it was far too ostentatious. Her part in this was simple. Stay out of sight, gather intelligence, and let the flash bastards do their thing. And both Wyrm and Jackal were so very flash and pretty. Her tongue runs over hidden fangs, a faint smile on her lips. Yes, the people of Petraya would undoubtedly have something distractingly pretty to observe while she went digging. She stands in the shadows of the palanquins, her voice low. "So. Think you two can keep this lot distracted for a couple hours while I find out what the hell is going on here?" Activating Deception-Piercing Stare, 3m; if anyone lies for the remainder of the scene, I'll know it. I have 11 XP to spend; gonna burn 8 and buy Cloaked in Shadows Technique, meaning I get "an artificial +3 specialty 'In Darkness' for Stealth, though this bonus is not cumulative with normal specialties. Furthermore, whenever this artificial specialty applies to an action, Shadow Cloak Technique also doubles all bonus dice and/or successes received from stunts or Stealth Excellencies, although Excellency use remains capped by the usual limits for bonuses added by Charms." Onyx IS THE NIGHT. Muahahaha.
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Jan 14, 2013 18:19
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It's Never Lupus Before the Daybreak's eyes, the shaman's skin fades into translucency, then transparency. Superimposed on the veins and bone and musculature are false-color renderings denoting the man's condition. His afflictions are represented as swirling patches of beautiful entropy, while revolting swaths of healthy tissue glow with a nauseating light. Butterfly's search for signs of infestation yields some very interesting results. Flaking skin, muscle tremors, and other symptoms of Chakra Root are in evidence...yet his body is free of the loathsome flora. If she had to guess, her diagnosis would be that he had, at some point, contracted the infection, then was quite recently cured. From the width of the root channels left in his flesh, it's probable that he was afflicted by the purestrain orchid, not Cleansing Tide's modified version. Beyond that, he suffers only from blood loss and dehydration, both of which are easily treated by a physician of her caliber. A short time later The shaman's eyes flutter open and he beholds his saviors. He opens his lips, and his voice is thin and raspy. "Praise...praise be to the ancestors...knew you would come..." Meet Voice-of-Ages, chief celebrant of Petraya's ancestor cult. Ghosts in the Darkness In the wan sunlight of the shadowland, something flits from treetop to treetop, a specter lurking at the very edge of vision. Suffused with the energies of the Underworld, the jungle appears perversely lush and vibrant...and yet, to mortal senses, somehow off. It's a rare soul that would dare put down roots here. Speaking of roots... Never's search for the plant (what had Wyrm dubbed it? Chakra Kudzu?) proves fruitless (ba-dum-tish!) at first. Try as she might, the Essence signatures of the infestees escape her. Curious - she knows she saw some earlier; how far could they have gone in a scant three hours? Moreover, why would they have gone? Locating Petraya's wayward divinities is far simpler. Although some have taken steps to conceal their auras of power, spirit courtiers are sociable types, and where one is found, more are sure to be nearby. Skirting the canopy, Never catches sight of an inhumanly-tall woman clad entirely in assorted bones and rainbow-hued feathers (and from the time she's spent with Bolt and company, those look to have come from thunderbirds). Spiny fins like a marlin's protrude from the goddess' calves and forearms, and her spear is tipped with a siaka's fang. Her hazy, ephemeral appearance suggests that she's currently immaterial, visible only through the Abyssal's magitech monocle. Presently, she begins walking to the east, and Never follows. In short order, spirit and Exalt come upon a wooden stockade built around a flowing creek. The warrior woman enters, and Never darts overhead to survey. Inside, the situation looks desperate: hundreds of people packed into this cramped space, cold and shivering, none daring to light a fire. Most are Smaragdi and their god-blooded kin, but roughly a quarter appear to be Cyanin; cordoned off from the rest and forced into a squalid corner, they look to have suffered more than any. From the overpowering stench of fear and offal, it's likely they've been here a while. Seated in tiny, makeshift temples of wood and palm leaves are half a dozen minor deities, distinguished from the mortals by their hazy immateriality and their inhuman features. The warrior woman takes her place in the central shrine and materializes with a splash and a cloud of mist; at once, a ghost and a very put-upon-looking water elemental (a spring maiden, if Never's guess is accurate) hurry over to attend to her whims. If the bloodstains on a stone pedestal are any indication, these holy houseguests have hardly been denying themselves. A quick search of the jungle nearby indicates that the situation is much the same in the nearest village, and presumably the one nearest that. It's not until her return sweep that she spies signs of hostiles. Their Essence profiles almost indistinguishable from the surrounding flora, shadowy figures creep through the jungle below. Roughly bipedal, the creatures resemble the flower-things found in the hold of the Jewel, but plainly grown to maturity. Nearly a full scale of the things in all, lead by a figure in green, hooded robes. There's some magic damping its aura, but the leader is clearly something similar to Cynis Xúlan. Gradually making their way westward, they appear to be searching for...something. Holy crap mistaya you found a lot of stuff. With that Stealth roll, there's pretty much no chance of you being spotted; specific details of your scouting are available on request. Wealth and/or Taste If the functionary and his guards find anything about Wyrm and Jackal's spectacle in poor taste, they hide it well. The fireblood steps forward from his entourage and bows politely. "Sir and Madam," he begins in the most courtly of High Realm, "I welcome you to our humble island. Regrettably, for our records, I must ask the purpose of your visit." Onyx: They appear to be fooled by the act, but that's not to say their intentions are pure. Right now, they seem to be trying to decide how to deal with you. Watcher: Your compass is pointing SOUTHEAST.
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Jan 15, 2013 19:29
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So, the first act starts now. Jackal gives a cruel smile as he looks down at the functionary, his face wavering between annoyed and amused. "Well, look at that, my dear. This one asks us our reason to stay here. As if we from the Imperial Court have to give satisfaction to little bureaucratic beetles like him. Now listen here, you twerp! I, Regal Unbowed Dragon, Count of Juche, answer to only the Empress herself! But if you want to learn the reason why me and my beautiful wife are on this chamber pot you call an harbour, 'tis because of a fancy of my wife, who desired much to see the so-called 'Sunny Petraya' for herself. Now, tell us what is there to do on this depressing place before I, Regal Unbowed Dragon, die of boredom. And if i die of boredom here, a reckoning unlike any other in Creation shall hit this place. MU HA HA HA HA HA!" Rolling Presence+Manipulation to bullshit, spending three motes on first excellency! 7 Sux!
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Jan 15, 2013 23:36
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Last Damnation of Atlantis - North Jungle Deciding to have a little fun by playing the part, Damnation replies to the old man in the archaic language of deities that he speaks. "We have indeed come, priest, though we have no need of your prayers at this time. Death has nourished and sheltered us for this journey. Instead, we have need of something else. We come to this island because the natural cycle of life and death has been disrupted by some monster. We gave one the final death aboard a sailing ship, and now aim to cleanse this land and capture the one responsible so he may be brought before the Lords of the Underworld. We have need of the tale of what happened here, why and how these plants have disrupted the cycle of death, who is responsible, how to find them, and what has become of those who might join us in battle against the enemies of death." In a rare moment of sensitivity, the Death Knight crouches down and stretches out a hand to help the old man into a sitting position. "Please, tell us the tale of this island, and spare us not even the most minute detail, for we have been far away, and while death knows all, it speaks only in whispers."
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Jan 16, 2013 03:31
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Never Within Reach -North Petraya Shadowlands Never hovered for a moment over the large group of plant-men and considered her options. Damnation would be waiting for a report, and a group this large traveling at that slow pace should be very easy to pick up again if she was quick. She turned back towards the beach, pumping her wings for pure speed. She whirled as soon as she felt the rough touch of Damnation's mind against her own, scanning the jungle for the group so she could watch them while she spoke to him. She did not bother with salutations, there wasn't time. <There are at least two small encampments nearby, probably more. Simple wooden palisades, easily taken. Locals have been herded inside but do not appear in good health. They are being segregated and devoured rather than left for the plant creatures. Godlings in command, keeping elemental and ghostly servants.> She rattled off a quick description of the fish-like goddess she'd first seen. <More disturbing, two scales of full grown plant-men of the type found in the Jewel's hold. Led by something greatly resembling Cynis Xulan under Essence Sight. They appear to be searching for something to the west of us. I will follow and report back.> She bit her lip, unsure of her next words but feeling them right nonetheless. <Consider sending Bolt west, I may need his help. Tell him to be discreet.> Message delivered she shot like an arrow back towards the column of plant-men. Overshot them, actually, and began to scan the jungle ahead of their search lines. If they were looking for something, she wanted to find it first and keep it out of their leafy fingers by whatever means necessary. Per +Aware +1st Ex (7m) = 6sux, +2 autosux from Superior Sight Mastery(3m) = 8 sux Total
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Jan 17, 2013 19:20
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Watcher at the Gates of Sorrow An eyebrow shoots up as Damnation asks for the entire story. Watcher waves off and begins leading the shark-corpses into the dense jungle, calling back that Damnation could "Give me the summary later, or have our winged friend connect if there is some immediately useful information. Feel free to catch up whenever you finish--oh, and make sure to ask what he knows about the village and what he thinks the plant-people are looking for." With no further ado, the squelching sounds of rotting shark-tails sinking into the sand are replaced with the wet slaps and snaps of dense foliage meeting unyielding skeletons.
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Jan 17, 2013 19:47
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Damnation - North Jungle Damnation looks from Watcher to the distance where Never lies. First things first. <Never, I plan to send Bolt to back you up shortly. We will be moving into the jungle as well, though I expect we will be slower than you. Your information had been received.> As he thinks to Never, he thinks about Watcher's strange break from the group. He shouts after him "I'm coming with you, captain! Never Within Reach has reported there is another plant-monk in these woods, and I will not let it strike you before it strikes me down." The old priest was about to tell his story, and Damnation was happy to hear it, but unfortunately there simply wasn't time to sit in a circle like good ancestor cultists and have him do that sort of a telling. The Last Damnation of Atlantis looks down at the sitting figure and beams with a fanged smile. In Old Realm, he entreats him. "Sir, before you took form in your mother's womb, it was foretold you would be carried by an emissary of divine power in your time of need. I did not know it was meant so literally." Bending over, soulsteel plates clanking, he sheaths his Daiklave and picks up the old man, carrying him in his arms. "There is no time to waste in saving this island and cleansing it of evil. You will have to tell me your story while I carry you." Grinning like the bastard pirate he is, Damnation falls into step behind Watcher and his sharks, nodding for the others to follow him. As he continues, he turns to Bolt, curious. "Have you ever heard of a goddess, significantly taller than I, clad in the feathers and bones of your people? And, if you don't mind, please make your answer brief, as Never has requested that you come to her aid in the west without being seen."
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Jan 17, 2013 20:46
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The Waves, Ceaseless and Unending, Devour the Shore, North Jungle Sword out, Ceaseless follows closely behind Watcher as the old man charges off into the jungle. While the shark zombies certainly appear formidable, the engineer doubts both their ability to protect his captain from less obvious dangers and Watcher's ability to resist throwing himself into whatever danger might be available.
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Jan 18, 2013 04:53
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Ghost Stories Bolt's expression at Damnation's description of the goddess is a mix of rage and bewilderment. "Koko'Ino?" He spits. "The gently caress is she doing here?!" Spark-of-Inspiration mutters darkly, and even the normally-chipper Herald has some colorful words to say on the subject. "She's the west's Senior Undersecretary of War," Bolt explains. "Reports directly to Siakal. Seriously nasty piece of work - she's not a fan of quick or painless death. No loving clue what a Celestial is doing here, but it can't be good." As the thunderbird speaks, his flesh turns cloudy and translucent. "Be careful," he warns Damnation before fading out entirely, "she's more about the creature comforts than doing her job, but she's still a drat good fighter." At that, he vanishes altogether. Spark and Herald fill you in further; the short version is, it'll be a tough fight if you try to take Koko'Ino directly. Doable, especially for a combat-focused Abyssal, but tough. Voice-of-Ages feels light as a feather in the Dusk's arms. His words still come out in a harsh croak as he begins to tell the tale of Petraya. "Once, we were greater. Squalus, Smaragdi, Tautoga, Porphura: from Cormorant to the Cowries, all bowed to the Cyanin. We were greater...and foolish. Proud of our godly blood, we forgot our mortal ancestors, and in time they grew angry and rightly smote us for our insolence. Now, we keep the Old Laws, and are holier for it. Until now, the dragons did not begrudge us our faith, although they did speak ill of it. But then..." The look on the priest's face is that of a man who's seen far too much. "...first came the missionaries, who named our ancestors false idols, defiling their graves and scattering their ashes to the wind. Despite their blasphemies, we endured...until he came. The Cleansing Tide. "At first, he was content to speak with our ancestors and our holy men, as men of learning do. But then, he found something - what, I do not know - and from that day forth he was our enemy. He took away our singers, and our speakers for the dead. He took our old, our wise, our Keepers of the Old Ways...and then, he began to take our ancestors themselves. He took them to his temple of black stone, and they were never seen again. "In time, a strange spirit came, and asked of us hospitality, and though she was a woman and not of our ancestors we welcomed her, for the Old Laws demand that none be turned away. But when the Cleansing Tide sent his warriors, and his monsters, and his vile plants that ride the living and devour the dead, she told us that we must honor her as we do our dead, or she would drive us from our homes to perish. And when the Smaragdi came, fleeing the dragons, they too asked for hospitality, and they too repaid us with treachery, for they are a fickle people and not to be trusted. "And so it was that I left my village for the holiest land remaining, and with the strength lent by my ancestors I moved the standing stones until they called out a message. And when that plea went unanswered, I prayed to the Lords of Death, pausing only to regain my strength when my blood ran thin. And now..." He smiles weakly. "...now you are here." Hide and Seek Back and forth, Never glides over the treetops, careful to not let her shadow pass within sight of the mob of plant-things. It's one thing to follow someone, but quite another to keep ahead of them when one doesn't even know where they're going. Diligently, the Day caste begins to consider all of the things they might be searching for. Runaways? No, they aren't following any tracks. Spirits? Never's monocle is turning up zilch in the immediate area. Buried treasure? Good luck finding any without a map. It isn't until her fourth pass that she realizes that there's something off about the jungle. Not that it's a shadowland - if anything, that makes it feel safe and homey - but there's something subtle that's giving her a migraine. It's like having a vice around her temple, like staring into a bright light, like... Like trying to look directly at something that's magically veiled. Straining her vision and channeling the full power of her Exaltation, Never wills herself to look past the illusion and sees... ...a stand of trees. But wait. Coming from inside the stand is a deeper, bitter chill. It's colder than the surrounding shadowland, cold enough that even Never shivers slightly in passing. Tentatively, she peers through the gaps in the foliage. As she breaches the bounds of the illusion, the greenery turns a solid, noxious black and the trunks of the trees take on a mottled, diseased-looking texture. Scratched into the dirt of the jungle floor is what was once a perfect circle, now smeared and smudged from weathering. Pulling back, the Abyssal spies a hazy figure of blue and gold light racing towards her position from the northeast. Scant seconds later, it resolves into the incorporeal form of Bolt-from-Brightest Day. Silently, the elemental waves to her in greeting. ETA of plantmen: about 20 minutes. The Lying Game "But of course," the Sesus official replies smoothly. "You will find us quite agreeable and accommodating in nearly every regard. We will be only too happy to provide you with a tour guide, a native who can tell you of all the attractions our little isle has to offer. The Twin Springs monastery is, of course, off-limits to non-Immaculates, but the rest of Petraya is your oyster -" he offers an easy smile and a wink, then withdraws a quill, an inkwell, and a roll of paper from his robes. "- just as soon as all of you state your names and the specific nature of your business for our records." He seems to have been fooled by Jackal's lie, but he's quite insistent about getting more information out of you before he lets you past the pier. Onyx: You get the distinct feeling that he's trying to decide how much you'll be missed, and what sort of bullshit he should feed anyone who comes looking for you. Thesaurasaurus fucked around with this message at 10:28 on Jan 18, 2013 |
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Jan 18, 2013 10:25
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Damnation - Traveling Behind Watcher in the Jungle Damnation pays rapt attention to the old man's story, but before asking questions, addresses the Thunderbirds and his companions. "I don't want to fight Koko'Ino head on if I don't have to. I'd love to, but we have a job to do, and it'll go faster if I can just get her decadent rear end out of my hair without a pitched battle. I see two options. My first choice would be that we find a way to goad her into striking at Cleansing Tide. From what Never Within Reach told me, the humans here are sick, malnourished, and demoralized. They'll make a poo poo fighting force. If we want anyone to lead the vanguard, it's Queen Bonehead and her spirit cadre. Well, I would be even better, of course, but I have more important things to do." "My second choice would be to capture her in the Yasal Crystal and force her to help out that way. The downside of this method is that I have no idea if she'll fit. Maybe Butterfly or Watcher can puzzle it out and give me an answer one way or another, but if not, the only way to do that would be to try. If we fail, she's probably going to try to kill us. Especially me. So, then we'd have to kill her. On the bright side, if she's killed or captured, it should be easy to press-gang all the subordinate ghosts and gods into our forces." With a chuckle, he notes one final point. "Oh, it seems she and Bolt have a bit of a history. If I decide to tell her I ate Bolt and took charge of his remaining Thunderbirds, would you be willing to go along with that? I think it could have some juicy intimidation value as a tactic." Finally, he turns back to the old man. "When you say he took your ancestors, what do you mean, Sir? Were you no longer able to speak to them? Were their ghosts literally taken away? Did you see any of your ancestors after he had taken them?" Unable to scratch his chin in contemplation due to carrying the man, he ponders one final thing. "How old is the temple? Did Cleansing Tide construct it, missionaries before him, or does it date back even further?"
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Jan 19, 2013 03:37
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Unmasked Winter, - who, by grace of sovereign elements as passed to man from Gaia by the blood of holy dragons who through The Scarlet Empress (Ever May She Reign) guide all lesser souls down the Immaculate Path to enlightened service of Creation's harmonious Five-Times-Blessed prosperity, shall soon act as befits her as one of the lineage of her progenitors who bind the world's foundations by, with great sound and fury of her undeniable nature of natures, sweep her hand across this land that in its wake it shall be ever changed, leaving only peace and fortune. V'neef Auling has been trapped at sea long enough to know at sight when Wyrm is thinking, when said thoughts amuse her, and such amusement can't end well. So when he sees the painted lady smiling faintly, breathing deeply, flourishing her fan in little practice sweeps, he knows a speech is brewing. He moves to intervene. To this point his strumming was at best a distraction, a way to calm his nerves. The warm-up was over. He matches her natural rhythm, and when the proper moment comes the song begins. First, Wyrm listens. Then, Wyrm reclines. Then, she sings. Perform time 5m, 1wp, for 10sx + whatever help from Auling - get everything in earshot loving the thought of having Wyrm around. Personal 11/16, Will 9/10 A_Raving_Loon fucked around with this message at 20:48 on Jan 19, 2013 |
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Jan 19, 2013 20:44
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Daughter of Onyx & Silver Still cloaked in shadows, Onyx murmurs to the singing captain of the Envoy. "Do be careful. That slimy lizard's trying to figure out how best to feed you all to the crows. Meet you after nightfall." With that, she's gone, trusting the skill of her fellow Deathknight to keep anyone from looking too closely. If anyone does, though... well. That's what the shadows are for. She frowns at the dappled patterns between her and a proper alleyway, concentrating. Her skin and gear darkens and lightens to match it, rolling smoothly in unison with the changing light. It was time to get down to business. No rest for the wicked, after all. Onyx grins to herself. Once she figured out how this festering rat-hole worked, she could make time for a decent meal. And maybe a drink or three. Only 3 sux on my Stealth roll; supplementing with Just Another Branch Deceit (4m) to add another 3 successes, for a total of 6 sux on the slipping away attempt. Gonna go Investigate this town, see what's going on. Maxing 1st Excellency (8m) & channeling Temperance for a total of 19 dice for 9 sux. MadcapViking fucked around with this message at 02:44 on Jan 22, 2013 |
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Jan 20, 2013 00:03
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"Beautiful, most beautiful! Oh, my beloved Unmasked Winter, to waste your voice in the ears of those unworthy wounds my sense of aesthetics! If I, Regal Unbowed Dragon, had the means to pierce the eardrums of all those here, for there won't be more any more of a pleasant song than this one. Hmph, i might even arrange for that later." He gives a quite intimidating stare at the human helpers and the Dragon Blooded official, but his words of praise are indeed sincere. That WAS an artistic display beyond anything he has heard before. Perhaps his 'teammates' are more worthy of following him than he thought previously. Still, this distraction is not enough for keeping that pencil-pusher from keeping his nose where it shouldn't belong. Perhaps some more cajoling is needed to keep his annoying self out of the Deathknights' business. "Oh, you fool! Haven't I, Regal Unbowed Dragon, introduced myself to your insignificant self? Or do you wish for the name of my divine consort, Unmasked Winter? Perhaps the need to name our servants is needed as well? Because unfortunately I, Regal Unbowed Dragon, care about them enough to actually know what kind of servile monikers that they use. You shall only know that the only reason we grace our great presence on this port of yours is because of the fancy of my beloved wife, who wants to know more of 'Beautiful Petraya'. Have that noted on whatever scroll you use and summon your drat guide so we can finish this tour already! My skin is starting to blister with the sun and the bites of mosquitos." Well, that's seven successes to keep the masquerade up and pressure the Fireblood into accepting Jackal's demands.
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Jan 20, 2013 01:51
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The Everlasting Butterfly of the Decadent Garden Hi-ho, Spark, AWAY! Personal Motes: 18/19 --> 4/19, Peripheral: 31/31, Blood-Rose: 7/7 Butterfly listened to Voice-of-Ages' story, feeling strong sympathy for the frail mortal man. Before they left, she made a mental note to make sure he would join his ancestors as a ghost. For all of his devotion, he could do great to guide the future of this island when the removed the threat of the Orchid. So she was a little upset with Damnation's interruption with a report from Never, but the news was interesting. "We need to send someone to investigate whatever it is that has Never so nervous, but that could take plenty of time we don't have with the Orchidmen on the way. Watcher, if you go to investigate, I can slow them down, or at least distract them. Spark, I'm going to need your wings." --- gently caress Subtle Once she was in the air, the Daybreak used her vision to pierce the canopy and find the Orchidmen below. She had Spark-of-Inspiration try to stay as dim as possible to avoid giving away her position. All she knew was that the Orchidmen were near, and there were plenty of other unwelcome living things out there as well. If they knew several Abyssals were on the island, it could disrupt their mission, so she had to do it carefully. And by carefully, that meant leveling a large section of the forest with obsidian butterflies. Death Butterflies! (Perc+Occ+2xSpec) dice and 3 auto-sux.: 10d10x7+3 6 (area is 30x10x100 yards. Trying to get the Orchidmen in the middle-ish.) Krysmphoenix fucked around with this message at 23:03 on Jan 20, 2013 |
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Jan 20, 2013 22:51
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Watcher at the Gates of Sorrow Half-heartedly listening to the cultist's monologue, Watcher continues slapping away undergrowth with his fins as he trudges through the jungle, trying to move at speed so they could beat the plant-men to whatever their destination was. He smiles as Butterfly leaps onto the thunderbird and urges his shark-covered legs to greater speeds so he could get to the strange circle as quickly as possible--stealth was not an issue with a sorcerer blasting his enemies from the sky. The captain focuses when he gets to the site, using all three pairs of eyes at his disposal to create a three-dimensional mental map of the area. If there's anything to be found here, we'll take it before the plants recover. And then we'll kill or subvert that shark-goddess. Yes, this is shaping up nicely. Takin' a gander
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Jan 20, 2013 23:55
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Bad Religion Spark and Herald listen with thoughtful expressions as Damnation considers their options. They seem less-than-enthused about the first proposal, convincing Koko'Ino to strike at Cleansing Tide. "...don't know whose side she's on," Spark grumbles. "...all we know, she could be working with him. We could try asking her -" the look on his face at the word 'try' is not unlike what one would expect to see from a man who'd just found half a worm in his apple "- but it'd be a gamble." At that, he assumes his raptor form, allows Butterfly to mount up, and takes off in the direction of the Kudzu patrol. The remaining bird's face lights up at the prospect of trapping the goddess in the Yasal crystal. "Ooh! That!" he exclaims. "Let's do that!" Herald raps his knuckles against the gemstone. "I'm sure - well, pretty sure - that it should be big enough. I don't think that she'd buy that you killed Bolt, though...I mean, not that I'm saying anything about...just...she's paranoid. She's gotta strict policy about not counting a kill unless she has the body and has it in pieces." Voice-of-Ages elaborates at the Dusk's request. "The monks took their very shades; ensnared them in nets drenched in seawater and woven with spells. Pray as we might to the ones who were stolen, none have answered; I fear for them. The temple is old, older than the mission itself. How old, even we cannot say, though our eldest ancestors spoke of it having been there before the Judgment." From context, it seems likely that this "Judgment" refers to the Dowager's Contagion. -------- Further into the jungle, Bolt materializes with as quiet a snap of electricity as he can manage. "Hey," he whispers to Never. "You said you found something?" I Love The Smell Of Obsidian In The Morning Soaring low over the canopy on birdback, Butterfly soon spies the warped Essence patterns of the ambulatory orchid-men, damped by a thaumaturgical veil, but distinct from the surrounding flora nonetheless. Hanging well back from the patrol, Spark and his rider both began to chant incantations, shaping raw energy into material form. The Daybreak finishes first. As she utters the final syllable of the spell, a rushing noise is heard, as though the wind had picked up behind them. Hundreds of tiny, tinkling chimes ring out, shortly before a torrent of black glass swarms underneath the pair, diving into the trees below. Caught unawares, the arboreal creatures are helpless before the onslaught, scraps of leaf and chips of wood flying in every direction. Within seconds, half the trees in the line of fire are severed at the root, many of them fallen on the wounded plant-men. Their robed leader, bearing a nasty gash itself, hastens to the rest of the group and begins hoisting palm trunks off of its pinned comrades. At the thunderbird's command, a shimmering chain of emerald energy, studded with razor-sharp spikes, flashes into existence and whips towards the alpha, spinning like a bolas. The garrote just barely misses the creature's neck, wrapping instead around its right shoulder and biting deep into the armored wood before vanishing. Spark coughs. "Umm...we staying or going?" Butterfly's butterflies do 3L to the mooks and 1L to the leader. Spark casts Flying Guillotine and gets 9 sux on his attack vs. the alpha's Dodge DV: hit! 6L! Both the mooks and the leader are pretty badly hurt by the spell barrage - if you're going to stay and fight, roll JB, otherwise describe your GTFOing. As a point of clarification, I'm introducing a houserule: In order to bring Sorcery/Necromancy in line with other options, they are no longer completely incompatible with other charms. They can be used with Excellencies and ONLY Excellencies. I Put A Spell On You Marching ahead while the others discuss plans, Watcher reaches the circle a few minutes after Bolt, his army of zombie sharkmen lumbering some ways behind. So, what exactly has the Day caste found here? Whatever it is, it's giving him a nasty headache... ...no... ...not just a headache... ...the voices are trying to tell him something... Watcher: For the sake of not risking spoilage, the results of the scan were disclosed on IRC. If you're not OldMidgetWillow and you're reading this, then shame on you :P All The Port's A Stage... The inhabitants of Petraya's eastern harbor slowly cease their regular bustle as Wyrm begins to sing. Accompanied by Auling's soothing instrumentals, her voice becomes, for a few brief minutes, the center of their world. By the time it ends, tears are rolling from the eyes of the customs officer and his men. Wyrm: Except that these don't look like happy tears. From their postures and expressions, it seems like these guys are in pain, and one of them is absently massaging his right shoulder. The tribals, on the other hand, appear a bit more genuinely enraptured. Shortly before the captain finishes her song, Rose quietly slides a hand mirror underneath the window of the litter. With a quick glance, Wyrm checks the reflection. Beyond the obvious thing worth seeing, the view out through the north window is quite a thing. Nearby, the slope of the majestic volcano; beyond that, the verdant jungle rolling out to the horizon; above that, nearly invisible at this distance, a flock of birds glittering in the breeze... ...wait. Glittering? Looks like Butterfly's decided that the situation called for some violence. Wiping his eyes, the official begins to clap his hands; his guards follow, and soon, the rest of the town. "Bravo!" he cries, "Bravo! That was...well, nothing like we've heard in a great while! Please, follow me, if you will. You'll find we have the most decadent accommodations awaiting you." Carried on the backs of Jackal's manservants, the litter leaves the skiff and makes its way through the black cobblestone streets. Awed and fearful, the laborers dare glimpses at the angel in their midst before their overseers poke and prod them back to work. You can either do stuff in the streets or go straight to your posh and luxurious townhouse and proceed with scheming - your choice. ...And Here's Your Backstage Pass Yesss. That's it. Look at the prima donna in her fancy box. Pay no attention to the shadow creeping through the alleyways. Following the hubbub back to its epicenter yields some disturbing information. En route, Onyx takes note of the number and caliber of the guards posted along the path trod by the coolies, carefully placed to be all but unnoticeable from the ocean, and comes to an unpleasant conclusion: there are far more troops here than Sesus Rosene estimated. Judging by the wide variation in their skin tones and armaments, most of these are not House Sesus retainers, but sailors who put into port and were press-ganged into the collective. And those are just the ones she can see. In the corner of her eye, she catches movement and ducks into the shadows, and not a moment too soon. Obscured by a pane of frosted glass, a blurry silhouette drifts past the window of a nearby shack. From the outside, the homes appear deserted, but Onyx knows better than that. Searching cautiously, she peers through doorways, pulls aside curtains, and peeks into the dark corners of the town. Her assessment: this place is lousy with pod people. All of the activity seems to be centered around a great warehouse at the outskirts, on the opposite side of town from the waterfront. Like a trail of green-haired ants, the workers ferry crates from the compound's gates to the ships berthed in the harbor. A half-dozen carts laden with unlabeled boxes are parked by the outer wall, their mules hitched to a nearby fence...but no drivers are in evidence. And then, as one, the beasts turn their heads in Onyx's general direction and begin sniffing at the air. Well, this sure is a cozy little Thesaurasaurus fucked around with this message at 05:03 on Jan 22, 2013 |
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Jan 22, 2013 01:39
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The Everlasting Butterfly of the Decadent Garden Float like a butterfly, sting like a thunderbird Personal Motes: 4/19, Peripheral: 31/31, Blood-Rose: 7/7 Butterfly tried hard to restrain herself from giggling like a little girl holding a magnifying glass over helpless ants. She smiled in approval of the guillotine spell Spark-of-Inspiration used, but was disappointed that it didn't actually kill the leader. Nor did it rip off his arm. The whole thing could have been a lot more delightfully bloody but it all ended up being pretty mild. How disappointing. "No, if we stick around longer, they'll probably notice us. We'll just have to kill them at some other time, but for now we can't let them know who we are." (GTFO!)
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Jan 22, 2013 03:15
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Watcher at the Gates of Sorrow "...Out. Everyone out. Everyone get out!" It takes several tries before the inchoate mumblings of an apparent madman finally are understandable as actual words meant for beings outside the old man's mind. "I need some time to think...why...why would they be going here? Do they know? Who does?" He seems to shudder, all over, and finally comes closer to sanity, if a man wearing a pair of sharks could ever be called such. Even inside the necrotech monstrosity, he seems simply old and frail, like someone had punched him in the gut. He turns to Damnation. "We have a choice, and both carry terrible risk for ourselves, our crew, and all of Creation and beyond, possibly. We can protect this...area...and somehow assassinate our enemies without them knowing what killed them, possibly framing the War God. Or, we can cover our tracks as best we can and retreat to observe what the plants wanted to do in this place, hoping that none of them notice the path we have already made in our haste to arrive first. We would need to keep enough firepower on-hand to instantly kill the alpha if their purpose must be stopped. I admit, this is not my element. Can we even readily accomplish either feat?"
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Jan 22, 2013 07:11
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Damnation - Creation!? Damnation's eyes go wide. First, the old man in his arms, but now the Old Man of the Sea was spouting craziness as well. But this was Watcher, the ship's rock of dark pragmatism and stability; Whatever is at stake must be painfully serious for him to be acting this way. Fortunately, his first mate feels confident enough to reassure him. "We can defend this area against all the plant creatures sighted in the area. One alpha and fifty dumb ones, no doubt with injuries from Butterfly's occult magic. Never and Bolt are nearby and I have no doubt a well-placed arrow from Never could prove deadly for the alpha. Even if the remaining plant zombies do not prove useless in its absence, the thunderbirds should be sufficient to mop up the remainder without tying the rest back to us. The assassination plot seems better." The pirate rubs his forehead, trying to ponder just what the constraints on their operation were. "I don't think we can get out of here without being spotted. We were too hasty and our forces are too numerous. The first option is the one which must be taken. We kill the alpha before it can relay information to the main hive. Never and Bolt, specifically, perhaps with more help from Spark and Butterfly. Without it, it might not be possible for the hive to retain control of these infected. It's risky, yes, but based on the constraints you've provided, I think this is what we have to try." With that, he begins to relay information to Never. <Watcher has informed me the alpha of the pack of plant zombies must be killed without realizing what killed it. This is not our forte, nor that of Ceaseless, and I think even Butterfly is unequipped to orchestrate such a thing at this time. If you would so kindly prepare the most terrifying single arrow Creation has ever seen, I will make up a drinking song about your exploits and order the entire crew of both boats to sing it at the first available opportunity. If you think this is beyond your abilities, it sounds like we may need to delegate the task of fighting this opposition to the thunderbirds. Watcher is adamant that our involvement be unknown. Ready yourself and inform me of your decision.> He continues to think about this option. "The thunderbirds and Never have both suggested the possibility that Koko'Ino is in league with Cleansing Tide, at least as some sort of collaborator. The only way we can ensure blame for the attack is laid at the feet or her and her forces is to make her disappear by placing her within the Yasal crystal. In order to draw her out, I will probably have to be seen by the forces at one of these wooden palisades. I don't know how that relates or factors into your worries, Watcher. I just don't know all of the constraints under which we need to operate." Ultimately, he deems it necessary to address the elephant in the room. "Watcher, until now, I have assumed you had a good reason for not telling me what was going on, and I don't doubt that you do have one. That said, I am beginning to wonder whether your justification is really good enough to keep information from me if realms beyond creation are at stake." Incredulity oozes from that last bit. "What do you know, and what are you worried about them knowing? If you can't tell me, at least tell me why. Why is it so important to keep others from noticing our presence here?" MiltonSlavemasta fucked around with this message at 07:53 on Jan 22, 2013 |
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Jan 22, 2013 07:35
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Never Within Reach -North Jungle Canopy Never glanced at Bolt and gestured silently to the circle. The blackened trees and ground unnerved her, and they shouldn’t. What would cause this feeling of unease? It made her curious, but she was no sorcerer. She felt a great deal safer with Bolt beside her, this ranging had turned from a simple scouting flight to an extended stealth mission and she was getting tired. “This place is rotten.” she whispered to Bolt. “Can you feel it?” Damnation’s rough voice came through the link, warning her of an impending blast. Never pulled Bolt away from the blighted ground and up into the boughs of a nearby tree to watch Spark and Butterfly rain down sparks and butterflies (she smirked at that,) on the approaching plant-men. As the debris settled she kept close watch over the chaos. The lead plant was vulnerable and she had a clear shot. She considered executing it right then, but with her energy levels so low it was risky. A missed shot would alert not just this group but the whole hive. She wasn't ready to risk that. Watcher stumbled into view below the tree, wearing that ridiculous shark skeleton armor. Damnation and the rest were just behind him. Never watched him closely as he started to ramble and she immediately recognized that he'd been visited by the Whispers. They’ve been silent ever since you lost your memory. Have they forgotten you? Forsaken you? Never shook her head, not wanting to think about that. Damnation began speaking to her mind again, not realizing she was within earshot. She considered refusing to take the shot, but Watcher’s voices were not to be disregarded and she was really their only option. She needed energy to accomplish the task set for her, and there was a shining beacon of it sitting on the branch beside her. She sighed. It wasn't something she wanted to ask of him. He would think of her differently afterwards, and she didn't want to change anything about their easy friendship. She was already skirting lines she knew better than to cross openly. Of course, if it was all in service of the Neverborn, how could they punish her? Lies and excuses won’t save you. “I have been tasked with destroying the lead plant-creature… But I haven’t the strength left to guarantee the kill.” Just admitting that annoyed her. She didn't like to appear weak to him. “I need two things from you, Bolt of Brightest Day. A lightning strike to mask the shot and ensure the creature’s destruction, and… a taste of blood to power it.” She did not blush, nor did she look at him.
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Jan 23, 2013 01:33
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Friends With Benefits "Yeesh," Bolt agrees. "I'm no wizard, but that thing is giving me an ugly vibe." Then Never explains her predicament. Bolt raises an eyebrow. A moment of silence, and then... "Heh," he chuckles playfully, "knew you just wanted to use me for my body." He removes the bronze bracer on his left wrist and extends his arm to the Abyssal. "Just make sure you let me have some time to get my strength back after this." Alpha strike is a go.
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Jan 23, 2013 01:52
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Watcher at the Gates of Sorrow The admiral turns on Damnation, the first tinges of...fear? drowned out by indignation--it's not clear if this is intentional. "...I don't know! There are so many variables and unknowns and the stakes are so high that I need to think." After several long seconds, where it seems like Watcher is being knocked around by an invisible hand from the force of whatever ideas he is grappling with, he finally comes to a decision. The tension leaves his body, as if once he has made this choice, all else follows. "We cannot allow them to reach the circle--any one. There is...information...here, which is our only hope of keeping this all from escalating. Though we might be able to gain more knowledge from there presence here, the risk is too great that their mere presence would degrade some of what we need--and then we would need to destroy them at a suspicious time and place. It reveals our hand too much--and that would be simply ruinous. I am sorry that I cannot speak more of this--it is not that I don't trust you." Buying up a point of Whispers
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Jan 23, 2013 04:55
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Never Within Reach -Taking Initiative Her head snapped up at the joke and now she did blush. She couldn’t deny the charge. She was using him. That he was allowing it did not change that simple truth. She took Bolt’s hand in hers and ran her fingers lightly over the bare skin of his wrist. The tips of her fangs pressed against her lower lip as they extended. She could feel the gentle pulse beneath his skin, the strength of the essence in his blood. It was perfect. She raised his wrist to her mouth… And hesitated. This was meaningless, impersonal. A theft of essence and no more. If this was all he could expect of her, then what chance had they ever had? None, and you know it. Never cast the voice aside. Ever since she took her name her life had been a series of meticulously calculated steps. She considered every word before speaking. She weighed every action before taking it. But long before… Once there was a woman, and she would rush outside to dance in the rain. Never Within Reach let her past reach through her and found herself in Bolt’s arms. She kissed him then, not the gentle kiss of an asked question but the hard kiss of a demanded answer. She took his lower lip in her teeth and her fangs pierced skin. He wouldn’t feel it. She wouldn’t let him. When she finally pulled away they both had blood on their lips. “Thank you.” She said, letting herself bask in the freedom of the moment for the first time in so long she couldn’t remember. -- <I look forward to hearing the songs.> Never told Damnation from her perch. She called forth her bow, and Midnight’s Gentle Caress formed in her hands, sleek and shining. She drew the string to her cheek, and the arrow that formed between her fingers crackled with dark lightning. She smiled. Her last shot had drawn on the Thunderbird’s pain, but this one was purely his… and her… pleasure. It would not linger and leave scars, as the last had, but that was hardly necessary when all that would be left behind after the hit would be a smoking crater. As a spark of his own power, Bolt’s lightning would be drawn to itself unerringly. She no longer had doubts about this course of action. Her monocle zoomed in on the alpha plant as if she was standing directly beside it. She waited, not breathing. There was no wind, and Butterfly had completely destroyed any cover her mark might have had. It was perfect. Her grin widened enough for her fangs to show. Perfect. Cold sudden pain tightened around her chest like a vice. Her sight dulled and her fingers shook. She loosed. NO! --- Kisses for motes, draining 4L off Bolt and letting him regen. Alpha Strike on Alpha Plant was bloody godawful, 8sux Specialty: 2 dice Conviction Channel: 3 dice Charms: Relic Bow- 5m, 1wp Relic Arrow- 1m Splinter: Bloodthirty Arrow- 4m Max 1st archery ex- 10m pre:Power Longbow: (vs living target, +2 acc+2 damage) Speed 6, Accuracy +1, Damage +3L, Rate 3, Range 350, Tags: 2,B,O Target Arrow: Strength +0L as base damage, Piercing, treat lethal soak of armor as half true value rounded down when damage is applied. Bloodthirsty Arrow: -2DV 
mistaya fucked around with this message at 05:55 on Jan 23, 2013 |
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Jan 23, 2013 05:26
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Damnation - Outside the Circle "Watcher, that is enough to satisfy my curiosity. We will keep anyone from reaching this circle. For now, we can destroy those coming for it without revealing our presence. We can make it look like the actions of vengeful thunderbirds, which it is, to an extent. You want to keep them out of the circle? You say it has sufficiently valuable information that could keep all of Creation from some terrible fate, presumably worse than the fate desired by our masters? Very well. I am loyal to the Deathlords and the Neverborn, I am loyal to the captain of my ship, and I am not scared of the unknown." He draws a line in the dirt with his foot and looks outwards towards the approaching force of Chakra Orchids. <May your arrow strike true.> MiltonSlavemasta fucked around with this message at 05:37 on Jan 23, 2013 |
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Jan 23, 2013 05:34
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The Power of Love? For the first time since her memories were taken, Never hears the whispers of the Neverborn in her mind. They are somewhat less-than-pleased. Her chest caught in an icy grip, her arrow strays from its target, heading for the shoulder instead of the heart, and it's not going to be a killing shot... Still perched in the tree branch, Bolt leans back and gasps, his eyes unfocused and distant. "Wow," he rasps weakly. Absently, he flicks his hand in the direction of the infested Immaculate. When sight and hearing return and the dust settles, the alpha is lying in a blackened crater, the silhouettes of four of its brethren visible as un-scorched patches of soil. The creature itself is lying quite still. As one, the wounded orchid-men pick up their pace, stumbling into something that could almost be called a charge if it weren't so haphazard and uncoordinated, aimed in the general direction of the circle. I Taste Key Lime Pie Carried through the eastern harbor, Wyrm and Jackal can't help but notice that there's something off about their escort. Maybe its something about their posture. Or their complexions. Or maybe it's the way the official and his guards stumble in perfect unison, or the way the fireblood ceases his stream of prattle to gasp in pain, or how they don't seem quite as chipper after they recover and try to play it off as "just a spot of muscle cramps". Likewise, Onyx notes a number of the guards she's watching double over in pain before resuming their vigil.
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Jan 23, 2013 06:10
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The Waves, Ceaseless and Unending, Devour the Shore, Outside the Circle Ceaseless watches Never's spectacle with Bolt with narrowed eyes. When the dust clears, he shakes his head slightly to himself. "Our mistress may not be pleased with her, but you've got to admit she gets results," he murmurs. As the plant zombies begin their charge, Ceaseless takes up his place at Damnation's side amid the shark zombies. Whatever the nature of the circle behind them, the engineer has no qualms about killing plant zombies now that their leader is hopefully out of contact with the rest. Joining Battle=2 sux pre:Wavecleaver Daiklaive: Speed 4, Accuracy +1, Damage +5L/2, Rate: 2, Defense: +3, Tags: O
Health Levels: 0 [ ] Soak: 19B, 18L, 17A
1 [ ] [ ] [ ] Hardness: 11L, 11B
2 [ ] [ ] [ ] [ ] Dodge DV: 5 Parry DV: 5
4 [ ] Dodge MDV: 8 Parry MDV: 4
I [ ]
Conditional:
If attacked in melee, activate Vengeful Riposte
If attack can be parried and it is known/appears to be really nasty, activate Death-Deflecting Technique
If attack can be parried and DV penalty is < -1, activate Elegant Flowing Deflection
Willpower: 10/10 Conviction: 4/4 Temperance: 1/1 Compassion: 2/2 Valor: 2/2
Personal Pool: 19/19 Peripheral Pool: 11/40 (Attuned motes: 29)Bouquet fucked around with this message at 20:23 on Jan 27, 2013 |
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Jan 23, 2013 08:56
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Well that is a good enough explanation. NOT! Still, the strange behavior of the escort, although fishy, is not Jackal's problem for now, specially since they don't appear to have uncovered their disguise yet. In any case, 'tis for the better to just keep the noble masquerade up for the moment. He guffaws with sadistic scorn at the peasant's pain while tapping his finger on the litter impatiently, sometimes giving light kicks at his carriers' heads. "If you have the time to complain about aches and gape at nowhere like complete morons, you have time to walk faster, you bunch of useless wastes of flesh! Hurry and take us to our accomodations before I, Regal Unbowed Dragon, have your skins flayed and woven in a new litter!" He growls at the carriers and the escort alike.
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Jan 23, 2013 15:32
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Daughter of Onyx & Silver Onyx frowns at the spasm that sweeps through the pod-people following the distant glittering thunderstrike. What in Oblivion was the jungle-team doing? She shakes her head, focusing on her own part. Tracking the guard perimeter, she follows the clusters of zombies back to a warehouse, out of sight of the guards until she spots the loading zone. Well, well, well. Look at what we have here... The lines of death and murder, cause and effect, overlay themselves upon her senses as she draws on the power of Oblivion. First Investigate Excellency, 8m out of Peripheral, plus Crime-Unveiling Wickedness, 5m out of Personal to reduce the difficulty of the Investigation roll by 1, spending a mote of Personal to prevent this from pinging my anima. 9 sux on getting more info from the Warehouse Scene. PersEss: 1/19, PeriEss: 16/24
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Jan 24, 2013 20:44
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Watcher at the Gates of Sorrow It is all inevitable, now. Nothing for it but to ride it all out. Watcher gives one last warning to "Try not to have any anima fun-times", then began to cackle in glee as he gets a simply unique way to test out his new creations. The shark mouths on his hands gnash their many rows of teeth in anticipation as he rushes towards his planty foes, interposing his zombies in the way from their rampaging, mindless hordes. Apparently sharks are not that speedy on land. pre:Health Levels Soak* DV -0 O Bash 18 Parry 6 -1 OO Lethal 13 Dodge 3 -2 OO Agg 11 MDV 8/3 (DDV/PDV, +App mod) -4 O Hard 11L/11B Incapacitated OOOO Essence 3 PersEss: 19/19 PeriEss: 33/37 (4 committed) Will 10/10 D-d-d-DOUBLESHARK Speed 5, Accuracy 11, Damage 10L, Defense +1, Rate 3, Tags: N If brutalized using Dark Will Triumphant(5m, 1WP) to bring DDV up to 10, 11 if being a stubborn bastard. It's scenelong so it will just stick around. If attacked by something scarier yet, using Heart of Darkness(6m) to boost up to 14/15 (if needed a second time to 17/18, as it hits dice caps then). Again, scene long. OldMidgetWillow fucked around with this message at 20:31 on Jan 27, 2013 |
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Jan 25, 2013 04:54
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Last Damnation of Atlantis - Weed Killer "I'm sorry I could pull out anything better for this whole cloak and dagger plot. However, if the senses of the lowest-level plant beings are dulled from rage and pain at losing their commander, there is still a faint chance we will not be detected. If we are? Well, I promise you anyone else who comes to examine this damnable circle is going to have one hell of a time. And, poo poo, I don't need essence to kill these ninnies. They're less than human and much less than my old friend Cynis Xulan." Thusly, the cocky bruiser strides obviously towards the plant-men, soulsteel boots crunching twigs and branches underfoot. Don't know what to roll here or if we're hashing the entire combat out. Basically, Damnation is excited for the chance to wade in and kill people. For a baseline, Damnation is 9 PDV, 11/11 Hardness, 16 Acc without using any charms. Hoping that's enough to stomp these guys unceremoniously, but you never know.
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Jan 25, 2013 06:31
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Unmasked Winter - Whose deeds, unerring, ignite Creation's passions in all things. For hers in but the nearest, and in this time of need the sweetest verse in the grand chorus terrestrial, the hallowed legacy of form and spirit whose coils preserve against all foes our history, whose claws rend to barest elements all present who oppose it, and whose eyes gaze ever up and onward to the most serene and tranquil continuation of the age of man, in Gaia's care, as passed down through the Empress (Ever May She Reign), eternal and unyielding, the line of holy dragons. Ah yes, dear mortals, do go on. The Spawn of Wyrms could not hope for more dear and true applause as these - to hear you sob in anguish as you stand helpless victims of your race's atrocities, prisoners of your own feral flesh gone mad its innate desire to persevere and propagate, terrorized not by the spectres ever screaming out the verse of your destruction - oh no - fear now that they have left you at the mercy of your beating heart. Fear that you will live to see final consequence of all that gave you birth. Writhe in the shared agonies of your kin and know that you do envy their release. Know that when the time arrives you will grovel and my feet and beg to be the next to hear the hammer fall... Another change of song keeps Wyrm at bay. For now. For now, there is work to do. The launch bore little not meant to go ashore. Crewmen eleven through fifteen, under temporary designation of directions, see their lady's extensive luggage brought to the expected hands of local carriers before seeing to she, herself. The extensive pile of cases stands to the height of a warhorse, easily seen Servant East leads the majestic beast ashore. Immaculately cleaned and brushed, it wears decorative barding suited for parade or formal hunt. It suits as well to hide the thing's protective mask. Throughout the process Poem is omnipresent, darting about with smiles and bows and pre-stamped letters of registry and explanation between the brutal roar of her Lord and the waking dream that is her Lady turns this vital cog. The pleasant whirl of her voice easily slips from mind in moments of import, such as any time her masters speak, but as quickly as they fade she returns to fill the vital gaps in the display. "...so when, as said, her duties afford time to experience any of the innumerable territories of The Realm Eternal, my lady will without fail drink most deeply of its pleasures, that she may become closer to the Emerald Mother and from this enlightened state reveal to all the innermost beauty of creation, that all may know the rightness of the Realm, the Empress, and the Blood of Dragons. From each such epiphany she returns renewed, empowered, and prepared to better serve The Realm. In her kindness, she sees fit to share the bounty of this wisdom by returning with some great symbol of her revelation which may endure to spread the Dragon's will, as revealed through her, to future generations." "To that end," Another scroll is at the ready. "My lady issues, above all else, this order of business." Within, a list of demographics. Age, sex, ethnicity, ranges of height and weight, and with each some quantity. "In her studies of these lands, My Lady has witnessed that the people of the west are blessed with certain regal hues most pleasing to the alignment of the sovereign elements. She finds this most auspicious. That despite the debasement of these poor savages by heathen spirits, Gaia waits with open arms, for her chosen soldiers shall soon deliver them from evil. So it is, My Lady shall take those among them who clearly carry nobler souls into her protection, and bring them into the light of civilization. She will survey your stock in person and make final choice by hand." The standard would ensure none would offend her. It would fall to them to impress. A ledger arrives from somewhere out of sight, already open to a most fortunate set of facts, figures, and legal codes. "Be it known that such an order of export, set forth from such a place, in such a season, in answer to a sacred vision and in service of the state would stand as greater tribute to The Realm than simple weight of coin. As such would it be duly counted. As is right." Among other things, we're here to buy a whole lot of slaves with government money, and make it tax-deductible for everyone involved!
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Jan 25, 2013 19:06
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Rumble in the Jungle As the orchid-men approach, it becomes apparent that they aren't entirely lacking in coordination; rather, they segregate themselves into distinct "packs", leaping and bounding like wild beasts. Two of these groupings surge ahead, moving to engage the Abyssals and their minions, while the other two continue on their path towards the blighted circle. Plants roll 3 sux on JB. Milton, just need a JB from Damnation, then I'll try to get a real fightpost up later tonight. BIGASS NOTE FOLLOWS: As I read over the new mass combat system, I realized that 1) it's not complete, since a lot of charms and such still need converting, and 2) it's really best suited to much larger fights, especially since the general's ability to participate in combat beyond just making War rolls is diminished. So, we're winging it a little. This will function as a regular combat, BUT instead of individual enemies, you'll be fighting stacked groups (in this case, four groups of about a dozen mooks each) a la Heroes of Might and Magic. Likewise, your own mooks will be grouped into stacks; larger stacks hit harder, and make for easier management, whereas smaller ones can spread out and work with Coordinated Attacks. To retain their increased effect against clustered enemies, AoE attacks such as Unfurling Iron Lotus are more effective here; based on the area covered, you can choose to either deal increased damage to one stack, or to target more than one stack. The way this will work is, I'm assigning multipliers (which indicate either the maximum number of stacks you can attack or the post-soak damage you can inflict) to different AoE attacks); these multipliers are capped by the actual magnitude of the group you're fighting (you can't hit more enemies that aren't there). For now, Unfurling Iron Lotus has a x2 mult, while Death of Obsidian Butterflies has x4 (offset by its low base damage). END BIGASS NOTE Mission: Improbable Well, doesn't this look like a hub of shady activity! Even in a suspicious little town full of suspicious characters, the warehouse manages to stand out. Clearly, Important Things are happening here, and it won't do at all to just report back now! Not without poking around a little first. Observing from a safe(ish) distance, Onyx applies a little mojo and the bulk of the world's color palette drains away. A few hues remain: black for the parts that aren't dying as quickly as they should, and various shades of red for things that have been kissed by violence and death. A faint ringing noise identifies the people and objects most likely to do harm in the near future. The place is splashed and splattered with crimson, and with all this ringing, you'd think someone was getting hitched. Leaving aside all the noisy red on the guards and their weapons, Onyx's eyes are first drawn to the crates on the wagons. Devoid of any labeling or iconography, these can only have come from the Immaculate mission. Inside...yep, that sure is some evil zombie root! And yet, the Day caste's Murder-o-Vision tells her that most of the stuff is innocuous. Which is strange, because Onyx knows from personal experience that it's anything but. Indeed, even as she watches, another driverless team of mule-carts rolls in from the west, and her power tells her that their cargo is perfectly deadly. If only she could find out more. If only there were a way to sneak into the building, like that window on the second story with the broken latch... ...oh! Why hello there! Scaling the curtain wall and nimbly ducking the sentries, Onyx eases the window open and slips inside, no-one the wiser. The place is dimly lit, where there's any light at all, and partitioned into wraparound hallways and adjoining offices, with a large, central storage area and a loading dock that opens to the outside. The perimeter is largely deserted, with only a few, token guards, but further in... From a ledge overlooking the floor, Onyx observes a team of tribals carrying the newly-arrived packages to the work area, where a group of infested sailors opens them and begin to pore through the contents. As she watches, the workers remove the dried orchids and their attached root structures from the boxes and begin to sort them by color: reddish-brown, bright yellow, electric blue, dark green, pale fuschia...all are cataloged, repackaged, and carried off into a side room. Dropping down without a sound and creeping through the shadows, Onyx follows. Inside, a figure in the robes of a wood-aspect waves the others out, then returns its attentions to the crates, oblivious to the figure in the dark corner. Giving each of the boxes a cursory inspection, it casts a furtive look about, then quietly moves to the wall opposite Onyx and removes a wooden panel. Withdrawing a clay vessel from the secret compartment, it moves from box to box, carefully sprinkling tiny portions of the contents over each type of orchid in turn...each, save for the fuschia. Gradually, the ringing noise recedes from the dusted flowers as their infectious spores die off. The monk-thing replaces the jar, the wall panel, and the lids on the boxes, then signals for the labor crew to return. With a whispered word (whisper? Since when do these things talk? Didn't Butterfly say they had some sort of tele-whatsit like Never?), the workers carry the boxes out to the loading area. Onyx is just about to sneak back out to report to Captain Wyrm, the alpha turns its head, then briskly strides into the central chamber, where some sort of commotion has started. Back in the storage area, the slaves and infected have begin to rearrange the crates, positioning them into a maze of chest-high walls, and Onyx can feel the distant vibrations of impending violence. The guards are grabbing shortbows, and four more Terrestrials are moving to join the alpha. All told, a perfect fang. One, an air-aspect judging by his pristine, white robes, carries a bucket of white paint, with which he begins to draw a pair of occult diagrams on the floor in a spot that looks to be set up as a kill-box. Onyx is no sorcerer, but even she knows a binding circle when she sees it. And what are those Old Realm characters he's painting into the margins? Spark-of-Inspiration. Bolt-from-Brightest Day. In Good Faith Born to power and well-versed in the Realm's myriad forms of bureaucracy and negotiation, Poem neatly enumerates Wyrm's desires, and the numerous benefits of complying therewith - tax breaks, good press, the patronage of the rich and powerful, with tantalizing hints that a particularly generous show of hospitality could lead to better, brighter things, such as not being stuck on a backwater hellhole of an island with a bunch of primitive chucklefucks. The fireblood official smiles politely throughout her pronouncement, and when she ceases her speech and hands him the itemized list, he clears his throat before answering. "But of course, my honored lady, we will at once begin preparing the festivities in celebration of your master and mistress and of course the Realm Eternal and her Empress, ever may she reign, and we can assure you that none will be disappointed by the refreshments, from the epicurean to the...holistic. Should ever your nimble fingers tire for the briefest of moments, our scribes will be only too happy to relieve you of your burdens and take up your quill. "Now, as for the matter of our colorful locals, such a request is surely within our means. Of course, as Petraya is home to only two of the five tribes, it will take some time for us to acquire a variety of specimens suited to your specifications. Furthermore, we will need to vet them thoroughly before presentation, to ensure that none are tainted by miscegenation with the indigenous spirits, lest we give offense to your Lady's sensibilities with an unworthy tribute. There are forms to process, receipts to be handled, receipts of receipts to be witnessed, cataloged, sent by messenger bird to Amphiro for archival, signatures and countersignatures, permission from House Cynis waiving their controlling interest in the trade of indentured persons..." It's impressive, even to the trio of Moonshadows, the number of ways this functionary manages to say "no" without actually coming out and telling them to gently caress off. Poem goes all-in with an Excellency and rolls 10 sux on Bureaucracy to get Wyrm what she wants. Mr. Beancounter cockblocks with Thrashing Carp Serenade: 13 sux hahaha godDAMN. Looks like they won't be bringing your revolution to you anytime soon. Thesaurasaurus fucked around with this message at 22:36 on Jan 26, 2013 |
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Jan 26, 2013 22:33
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Last Damnation of Atlantis - Battle Preparations! "So, to be clear, Watcher, I'm to keep these plant creatures from crossing this line without letting my anima flare. Sounds enjoyable." His massive daiklave somehow draws itself. Black veins emerge all over the soulsteel and begin to burrow through Damnation's armor into his flesh. He's completely suppressing any show of his anima, but the Death Knight is clearly doing something to prepare himself for the coming onslaught. Join Battle vs. Zombie Plants: 5d10x7 2 Using personal essence to activate Infinite Mastery of Melee (6m, 1wp) and Fluttering Moth Defense (3m) before we engage. Infinite Mastery of Melee should add 3 dice to all melee dice pools. Fluttering Moth Defense adds one to the Soulsteel Grand Daiklave's Defense and Damage, as well as eliminating any DV penalties from using the weapon. The passive charm Death Well-Remembered is adding a static +2 to my Parry DV. COMBAT BLOCK posted:
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Jan 27, 2013 04:11
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Plants vs. Zombies Whiplike tendrils extend from the orchid-men's limbs as they leap at their quarry, flailing tangles of vines. One of the packs encircles and attempts to ensnare Damnation. Not. Even. Close. Attacks against Damnation whiff entirely. Ceaseless, emboldened by his comrade's example, slices one of the offending creatures to ribbons as it dares to lay a vine on him. Its packmates, however, fare better, entangling the engineer and attempting to throttle him. Evidently, no-one ever told them that Soulsteel doesn't dent that easily. Pack #2 attempts to grapple Ceaseless, and although he kills one with Vengeful Riposte, they still get a grip on him. Their first crush attempt fails to overcome his armor's hardness, but in the long run, the mathematics of grappling favor them. The third grouping, skirting the flanks of the encircled Deathknights, makes all haste for Watcher, only to find their raking claws and grasping whips deflected by the sheer unholy power radiating from the Daybreak. Dark Will Triumphant = plantmen can't touch this. The last of the orchid-men, the vanguard at the front at the time their leader fell, ignores the fighting entirely, pushing forward in the direction of the circle, heedless of the chaos about them. 3 sux to oppose Blockade Movement; if nobody interrupts them, they'll reach the circle in 10 ticks. Okay, now's as good a time as any to explain how stacks work in this little kludge. Effectively, the Magnitude of a given unit translates into a number of extra attacks it can make without suffering multiple-action or DV penalties. In exchange, soak only applies the once to attacks made against them - high-damage hits will splatter a good number of mooks. Splitting minions into multiple stacks will allow more attacks overall, but also render you more vulnerable to AoE hits, as the total magnitude on the field will be higher. Furthermore, since this generally gives the advantage to the multiple-stack approach, your ability to coordinate multiple stacks is limited by your War - total manageable number is 1 + 1/2 War, including specialties, rounded up. After this, each additional stack imposes a cumulative -1 external penalty to all actions - this replaces the whole "relays" concept. Having multiple characters with War, therefore, allows you to extend your forces further without suffering a penalty. Turn Order posted:0: Plants (acted) Thesaurasaurus fucked around with this message at 21:33 on Jan 27, 2013 |
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Jan 27, 2013 21:23
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The left eyebrow of Regal Unbowed Dragon is raised after the Fireblood's excuses. He really wanted to get down from the litter and slash his throat from end to end and then feast on the delicious liquid that would flow down the wound, but he was a hundred percent sure that it would most likely ruin his current disguise. Very well then, there are other ways to inflict pain, shame and violence upon others. And now he was about to show them one as his expression turned sour and his fist shook in the sky, tilting the litter forward. "And i am sure you will handle those bureaucratic details as quick as possible, lest you suffer the risk of incurring the wrath of those who are clearly superior to you. Do I, Regal Unbowed Dragon, give an absolute poo poo to the procedures of those insignificant pissants from House Cynis? We are talking about the demands of my beloved wife, and mine as well, not a request from a scummy Guild slave-trader from a backwater port. Your defiance starts to bore and annoy me, and when I, Regal Unbowed Dragon, am annoyed, those around him... Ohhh, you'll see what will happen. You see, twerp, We come in good spirits to bring this mudhole many gifts from the Realm and the glory of our superior civilization and that is what we get in return? The disrespectful words and denials of someone who should be grateful to all the Gods for the presence of those who are before him! Perhaps there might be a transfer of functionaries here in the future. Bring some men from the icy North to work here... And vice-versa. Would you be content working on Cherak? Or will you stop dilly-dallying and get those drat savages as soon as possible!" He yelled at the official with a tone in his voice that showed an impressive amount of bald contempt and unbridled anger. The Moonshadow then stares at the poor servants who carried him, his eyes like daggers... Well, not like the actual eye daggers that he could throw from his eye canals, but this metaphor still holds. "And I TOLD THE LOT OF YOU TO HURRY! SHOULD I, REGAL UNBOWED DRAGON, SUFFER THE INDIGNITY OF HAVING TO WALK MYSELF? ON SUCH UNCLEAN EARTH? drat EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!" Presence+Manipulation, well that might work? Plutonis fucked around with this message at 00:02 on Jan 28, 2013 |
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Jan 27, 2013 23:54
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Watcher at the Gates of Sorrow Grinning maniacally, Watcher lashes out with his shark-hands, using them to bite large chunks off of the plant-men who are trying to run past. Wherever they try to find a path through, he is there, ripping into their planty flesh and dropping the chunks to the jungle floor through the exposed throat of his skeletal sharks. And as he harrows his foes, the admiral realizes something, some spark of connection: this was great fun. In trying to corrupt the servants of his enemy, he may have allowed some access into her thoughts or feelings. It's hard to blame a shark just for doing what it's built so…magnificently for. Another hunk of plant-flesh tears away from its host at the behest of a razor-sharp row of teeth. Flurrying. Eatin' my veggies(10L damage) and keepin' 'em from running away. pre:Health Levels Soak* DV -0 O Bash 18 Parry 6 -1 OO Lethal 13 Dodge 10/11 -2 for flurrying -2 OO Agg 11 MDV 8/3 (DDV/PDV, +App mod) -4 O Hard 11L/11B Incapacitated OOOO Essence 3 PersEss: 14/19 PeriEss: 33/37 (4 committed) Will 9/10 D-d-d-DOUBLESHARK Speed 5, Accuracy 11, Damage 10L, Defense +2, Rate 3, Tags: N If attacked by something scarier yet, using Heart of Darkness(6m) to boost up to 14/15 (if needed a second time to 17/18, as it hits dice caps then). Again, scene long. OldMidgetWillow fucked around with this message at 01:29 on Jan 28, 2013 |
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Jan 28, 2013 01:24
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