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 The wet sand of low tide crunches underfoot as you cross the beaches north of Codcliffe. The weather has been calmer recently, and a chill, skirling wind is all that remains to remind you of the events of the past few days. With the sunset hitting the rocks like that, you could almost believe Codcliffe was still a sleepy little village where nothing ever happened. So, yes, this little stroll is fairly nice, all things considered, but you're not sure exactly why it's necessary. The priest insisted you stay off the main road and instead weave your way along the rocky coastline to his little makeshift storm-shrine, even though he must have known it would take you twice as long. If this task of his is so urgent, such a waste of time must mean he needs to avoid the eyes of the Senator-Captain's guards -- but why? Whatever the reason, the sun is nearly on the horizon, and this is no place to be out after dark. Already you can hear the buzzing, bone-deep music of the seadwellers, gathering in the surf below as they prepare to emerge for a night of scavenging on the strand. It might be a good idea to pick up the pace. It's been two days since you pried Hobart's men from the cave near the beached HMS Dauntless. The infamous pirate himself remains at large, and the villagers whisper that the Senator's fruitless search is slowly driving him over the edge. On the other hand, much of the recaptured treasure that had filled the Dauntless' hold has been re-recaptured (though like as not you'll never see a copper chip of it). With the Senator apparently no longer requiring your immediate services, well, here you are: tromping through mud, possibly about to be eaten, on the word of an odd old priest that your help is needed. So much for glory. Unto the breach!  Everyone: Your mission was... technically a success, but you wouldn't know that to hear the Senator talk about it. So, what have you been up to the last few days? In other news, Codcliffe's non-human neighbors will be emerging to disembowel you in a few moments. Assuming you wish to avoid said disembowelment, now's the time. It's not far to the shrine -- you might make it if you run, and seadwellers rarely venture onto the rocks. What do you do?
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Jul 24, 2014 02:29
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(first post below character sheet) Sia of the Black Hand Initiate  Sia is a young woman of singular focus, and unique fury. She was found as a baby at the front steps of the Shrieking Winds Martial School, and soon rose to prominence as soon as she could walk. As she grew, so too did her fury and the power of her strikes. She could split steel plates with ease, and kill with a touch, as she demonstrated upon her schoolmates and mentors one fateful day. Now she wanders the world in search of greater challenge. Sia is boisterous, brash, and foul mouthed. What she lacks in book smarts she makes up for in street smarts and dogged determination. 1.) What do you search for? I search for fortune and challenge, and I'm not picky as to how I get either. I'm gonna be a legend and/or live forever! 2.) Do you support the Imperials? Why or why not? I'm fairly ambivalent, my school 3.) What do you fear? Never carving a place for myself in history. quote:Look: quote:MOVES: Sia of the Black Hand - So over this poo poo! "Not even a handful of coin to repay us for all that...that...motherfucker ripped us off!" I'm complaining to no one in particular. What had been supposed to be a milk run where we paste a few pirates then get completely shithoused spending the gold turned into an absolute clusterfuck of epic proportions, losing us almost half of the group we started with (Willem, Erik, Cormac, Miller), not counting the soldiers Mr. Senator sent with us. "Shoulda headed back to town after those fuckin golems, y'know?" I'm walking straight, head held high, but I'm looking just as beat up as the others, bruises, scratches, my left arm bandaged from my fingertips all the way to my shoulder. Acid burns. Fuckin bastard acid-spell-slinging mages! I'm assuming we just did a "time jump" from where the last game left off, and I'm running with it. Yell at me if I'm wrong. Also, do you want us to blank out any XP we already earned so that we start fresh? Third, I'll go with the group on whether we keep the current OOC thread or make another. 
Error 404 fucked around with this message at 00:31 on May 30, 2015 |
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Jul 24, 2014 03:15
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Sammi Cubrick - I swear I'm not a thief!  Sammi groaned quietly as she walked, a large blackish bruise that extended across a third of her lower back the main source of discomfort. A token of being body slammed into a large pile of gold coins by an angry murderous sadistic pirate. A pirate who is very dead now. Very very dead. After the attacked had had his internal organs forcibly rearranged by Rags (literately) in a murder rage and a very impressive blast by Icarus, who was in the middle of his own fight at the time. Sammi had found that some of the coins and one or two gems had managed to sliver inside of her clothing. She hadn't had time to disrobe and remove every one. She wouldn't have the confidence ether to take her clothes off in front of everyone. Given how open the place was she wasn't going to get any privacy. It wasn't until later that Rags convinced her to keep the treasure. Mainly by taking them, hiding them inside his body and refusing to give them back. She'd been worried that the guardsmen would notice the missing coinage, but they didn't. Sammi approached the understandably pissed off Sia and tugged on one of the sleeves. The one attached to the none burnt arm. "U-Ummm... I-I know it's not m-much... B-But I m-managed to k-keep some of the g-gold" She held up a small pouch containing 17-26 gold coins. It was a rough estimate, she'd not counted them properly and she was pretty sure Rags was still hiding more of them. "I-I was going to give it back! B-B-But Rags w-wouldn't let me h-have them until w-we left!" She added hurriedly, Sammi wan't a thief, her slavery days had instilled in her a strong dislike of getting into trouble. What worried her more was that Icarus would think less of her for it. She'd found herself becoming very fond of the inventor during their adventure.  Rags - check out my sweet poncho  It had been a while since Rags had played a walking purse. He'd hung onto a few coins, ten of them all told for a rainy day. Coin was useful. Not to him, but who knew weather Sammi would need it. He'd also hung onto the two gems. Fine quality, one of them somehow had managed to have no flaws. Might make a nice present to a certain inventor. Gems like this could work as wonderful focus emitters. Rags could feel the shifts in the ground, the locals were waking. "We may want to pick up the pace children. Unless anyone fancies being kibble." He called lightly. His disguise was of a poncho wearing wanderer he and Sammi had met roughly three months ago. He'd turned out to be a bandit. But he'd had a lovely rugged look that Rags had taken a liking too. After he'd fed the man his legs he'd started habitually wearing it for low key travel. Have a picture of the kinda look Rags settles on when murdering dudes. 
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Jul 24, 2014 11:58
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 Vimmen | HP 25/25 | Armor 2+1 | XP 1 The Senator-Captain's obstinance in the face of their valorous defense of Codcliffe comes as no surprise. After all, it would mean having to admit that his once-trusted Apothikos Keer was nothing more than a slippery snake-rat with delusions of grandeur. Fortunately, Keer's predations reached their end on the end of Vimmen's sword not days ago, and the paladin took due time to post bills around town revealing Keer's true nature, such that the Light of Bolt's pure truth may spread across the land. He cared not for the material rewards such as gold, knowing that Bolt smiled upon his dedication and purity, but he did take time to give the fallen members of the party a proper, Boltean burial. "Let Bolt's light guide you home, lucky ones," he intoned, pounding a metal rod into the dirt at the head of each grave. After that, a big meal and a nice long rest, his thirst and hunger restored something fierce after successfully defending Codcliffe from the threat of marauding corsairs. What Vimmen could really use now is good, hard rain to wash to blood, dirt, and soot from his arms and armor. He had hoped to earn such grace from Bolt on this trek along the coastline. The priest, of course, is one of the order of Bolt - a man named Freshly. He had been a paladin like Vimmen in his youth, but Bolt allows no paladin to remain ignorant of the ravages of time. So, like most, he laid down his armor and donned the vestments of Bolt's priesthood. Instead of the roving proselytizing that the youngsters get up to, the priests are more focused on research and deep communion with Bolt. They have many secrets they do not share with outsiders of the order - not even the paladins. Spout Lore: 2d6 5 I hope taking the narrative agency here is okay! If not, I can retcon it out. Either way, Vimmen's not as knowledgable about Father Freshly as he thought he was... It made perfect sense to Vimmen that Freshly would insist they take the coastal path. The sea and storms are close companions, and where storms brew, so stirs Bolt. But if Freshly wanted them to avoid Imperials - not usually enemies of the good - then whatever he's up to must be dangerous for someone. Probably us! Picking up his heavy, armor-clanking stride, Vimmen beckons the others onwards with a sweeping, gauntleted hand. "The darkness is creeping, and so is the sea! Let us make to the shrine before we're set upon again!"
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Jul 25, 2014 00:08
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Sia of the Black Hand I look down at the small bundle of coin Sammi's offering, it takes a second to catch her meaning, I smile at the gesture, and snake an arm past hers to tousle her hair before she can dodge. "Nah, that's yer haul and you should keep it, Shorty. I'm just pissed on the principle of the thing, y'know? To be entirely honest I'm looking forward to taking out my aggressions on something...or someone, so I hope this storm'll pass quickly and we can get on with things." Mentioning the storm reminds me to keep a lookout, this whole area's been a clusterfuck since we got here, who knows what could pop out at us. I use my focus to sharpen my senses, hoping to see, hear, maybe even smell trouble before it starts. I give Rory the signal to be on guard as I search our surroundings. Discern Realities 10 What is about to happen? What should I be on the lookout for? What here is not what it appears to be?
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Jul 25, 2014 00:28
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Vimmen Father Freshly was there to greet you when you arrived, of course, but he's quite tight-lipped, even for a priest, and you can't recall having heard of him. Why might he have been given such a distant posting? Sia You've tangled with merrow before. They're dully intelligent, but have no known language beyond the singing. They generally form two groups, with one team driving their prey into an ambush. If I were you, I'd worry about being surrounded. It's rather strange for them to be so aggressive, though. They shy away from large groups of humans unless they're provoked or desperate. Perhaps something is driving them?  The surf boils, and soon dozens of milky eyes are glaring at you out of the half-dark. The seadwellers are clearly hesitant to attack directly -- they know armed humans are dangerous. But as they creep forward, their song is rising, a dissonant howl, loud enough to make your teeth hurt. It reaches a crescendo, and a few of the larger beasts break into a sudden, lurching sprint! The rest of the pack will be close behind. What do you do? Anyone who wants to get in close to the pack will have to Defy Danger due to the ear-splitting noise! As you guessed, I'm eliding whatever happened in the cave -- we cut to the intro credits instead. You can keep your XP from before. And narrative agency is allowed and encouraged! megane fucked around with this message at 14:28 on Jul 25, 2014 |
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Jul 25, 2014 14:25
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Rory Watchtower HP: 27/27 Armor: 1 XP: 1/8 Awash from the feeble payout of the last job, Rory was hungry for more action. The only condolence that he had received was when he was able to stand beside Vimmen as he ended the wretched worm Keer's life, he was just sad he was too busy cracking skulls to do so himself. He'd seen enough snakes like Keer to know he'd correctly called it when he said that the soldiers would end up fighting them before the end. Unfortunately, the lack of a reward was a staggering blow when he could not front a pub bill anymore. Seventeen heads, the number of corsairs he had robbed life from in the caves including the witch crushed under the boulders, would have mad a large reward from the numbers that they were promised. His shoulder still ached from the cave-in, smashing into the columns was just as devastating as he could have hoped. Rory just wished the jagged sea-rocks had not done such a number on his arm when he plowed through them; it was far worse than the cuts and nicks the pirate's blades gave him. It was a shame Wilem was cut down the way he was or he could have recounted the story into the tales they would tell about Rory Watchtower. Things only got worse when everyone else got split up in the caves. Most everyone made it out, at least the ones who didn't die earlier, like Erik, especially when they could have used his a healer's hand. Back in town it took selling one of the gems from the golems to take care of the damages and medicine healers, but the remaining ones were still in the pot in case anyone ever caught Hobart, the slippery eel he was. With the bounty gone and all the loot claimed by the Senator-Captain, it was really the only thing left in the pool. Now, on the beaches of Codcliff, they were following Vimmen's lead again, as it had served them well in finding their way out of the sea-caves without Miller's help. Where their hunter had disappeared to was a mystery, though his fate was likely sealed when the unnaturally high tide filled the cavern; likely the work of the Octopus-folk who they'd seen, always lurking in the distance. Cormac seemed to have a hard-on for hunting them, probably when he was doing now, since he wandered off on his own afterwards. Rory didn't know this Freshly fellow, but Vimmen vouched for him and it seemed like he had work for them to do. Never one to pass up an adventure, Rory and Sia were all over it and it was kind of cute how this troupe had adopted Sammi and 'Rags.' He was uncertain how much further they needed to go, but in the murky light of twilight, Rory watched the shapes of the sea-beasts crawling from the waves. He was ever so glad Sia pointed them out as Rory licked his teeth and drew his great-sword from his back. The glinting blade still remembered the taste of blood the corsairs had gifted it, and it was starving for more at this point. "Everyone, you should take a walk, I'm going to have a 'break' here. I think I need to stretch my muscles out a bit." Falling to the back of the group, Rory interposed between everyone else and the charging merrow, blade held straight up, ready to draw crimson from his eager foes. Defend the group from the charge: 2d6+1 10 Hold: 3 As a reminder, I have reach as well. Edit: Forgot to Defy the screeching; Defy Danger (CON): 2d6+1 7 Teonis fucked around with this message at 18:33 on Jul 25, 2014 |
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Jul 25, 2014 16:15
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Sia - Smashing Squiddies! HP: 23/23 Armor 0/0 XP 3/8 "Of-loving-course!" I throw my hands up in exasperation as the aquatic rear end in a top hat storm the beach. Rory stomps past me to act as bulwark for everyone else. "Ok, everyone, I've tangled with these bastard fish-people before, they always try to outnumber and trap you with two groups" I gesture at the surf, "that's group one, group two will be somewhere between us and the temple. I suggest you all run, fast, before you're cut off." With that, I turn back to the first group of Merrow, using my years of body control, I attempt to block out the sound. I bound up to Rory, up his back, and use his shoulder as a springboard, flinging myself at the Merrow. Defy Danger +CON 5(6 with racial move) +XP! This is gonna hurt... I stick the landing, but even my training can't block this wailing, it's...it's like knives in my brain, can barely focus... However now I'm in the middle of a group of Merrow, welp, fight or die girl. With a shuddering breath I drag the scraps of my focus together, blood drips from my nose and ears, but I finally attain the detached awareness so necessary for me to do what I do. I step forward and strike. Hack and Slash +DEX 12 H&S damage +d6 7 (Reminder: All my attacks are Piercing 2, Messy, and Forceful) I am purposely leaving myself open for an attack Error 404 fucked around with this message at 20:22 on Jul 25, 2014 |
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Jul 25, 2014 17:31
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Vimmen | HP 25/25 | Armor 2+1 | XP 2 Vimmen recalled meeting Father Freshly in Codcliffe... Even then he'd seemed strange. He's energetic for his age, all his hair stands on end, and it appears that over half his body has been subjected to intense burns - it looks as though he's spent quite a good deal of time under the finger of Bolt. He didn't say much, apart from urging the party to join him at the storm-shrine after they'd had their rest, but if Vimmen had to guess, he's been posted out here at the end of the empire because the Order of the Holy Bolt central authority is scared of him, and what he may know. The paladin's hair stands up just as well when the merrow begin to emerge from the sea. Their buzzing song pierces his armor like it isn't even there, waves of pain shooting through his bones! Vimmen grits his teeth and draws his sword, banging it against his shield with a clanging CRASH, again and again! This was an intimidation and distraction tactic he'd been taught, to demoralize his enemies, but perhaps it can disrupt their auditory assault as well, if he's loud enough... DD (STR): 2d6+1 9 The clattering of sword-on-shield is overpowering enough to drown out the merrow's noises at least long enough for Vimmen to get in position by Rory, readying himself for the fight. He looks back at Sammi, Rags, and Icarus - "Keep back! These monsters will chew the flesh from your bones if they get too close!" Of course Sia has leap ahead of the fray, striking out wildly at the fish-creatures... Something Else fucked around with this message at 19:57 on Jul 25, 2014 |
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Jul 25, 2014 19:54
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Sammi Cubrick - Aaaaahhhhh!!! Wyrd: 2, XP: 2 Sammi made a slight attempt to dodge the ruffling, but it was clear from her reaction she enjoyed the sensation. It was nice to have someone approve of her. Hell it was just nice to having something... nice happening! She placed the pouch back into her satchel and secured it tightly. Just in time for the song to start. The sound was indescribable. Sammi's mutated arm eyeball saw it first. A wave of sound, shifting the sand aside as it rushed towards them. "U-Uhh..." She started saying. BOOM. Pain. Sammi cried out and clutched at her ears. She wavered, stumbled, saw the approaching monsters. Tried to move, and instead started to fall. Rags caught her under her arms with one of his. He seemed unconcerned by the sound, instead watching the creatures with a dull interest. His form shifting to the 'tune'. She felt his threads against her ears then the world became muted. Rags had blocked her ears up! Gods it felt weird. It felt weirder when the whisper of his voice came from the ear plugs. "Run" So she did. Sammi ran, ran as fast as she could. Looking back for the others, hoping they would be okay. She prayed she wasn't the only one running. She knew Rags would be angry, but she channelled the Wyrd. Empowering her guardian as much as she could, consequences be damned! --- Channelling the Wyrd to bring it up to Wyrd: 3 Power of the Wyrd 2d6+Wyrd (2): 2d6+2 12 Oh god, this is going to hurt... Mr GM man! You now get to pick two mutations from the move of the same name. The only real question is that given the roll is reversed from the normal (The best result is a low one, the worst result is a high one) Do I mark XP on a 10+? I'm still in the processes of playtesting this playbook and it makes for valuable info! Rags - I laugh at your fish song. Rags was unimpressed by the song, it tingled along his threads, vibrated along his patches, shivered along his strips. But he'd listened to harsher, more dangerous melodies, the jagged sword song of the Sha'kqua was renowned for its cutting edge. That had tickled. He hissed as the Wyrd flowed into him, a face weaving from the back of his head to look at the fleeing Sammi. Stupid girl! They would be having words after this. Sia like always, charged right in. leaking blood from her face. She'd struck but left herself defenceless. Well that wouldn't do, Sammi would be upset if Sia got herself hurt. With a sigh Rags bit down on a biscuit he'd lifted from Sammi's bag while he'd muffed her ears. This was going to be amusing. Rags rushed forward, throwing himself in the way of the presumably incoming attack. Hoping that it would sink it's jaws into his fabric body. Giving him much greater access to the soft innards of the Merrow. --- Do a Thing! - Protect Sia Do A Thing! (Protect Sia): 2d6+3 9 Marking one use from the Object of desire (2/3)
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Jul 25, 2014 21:35
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 Icarus HP 19/19 Armor 1 XP 1 Charge 2/3 Defend: 1 Hold Icarus walked a short distance from the others, a grim look on his face, which was bandaged on the left side from the ear to chin. It had been a bad idea, rushing that acid mage. Icarus had underestimated how quickly he could get a spell off. It hadn't really been foresight or ingenuity that saved him then, only dumb luck that he'd thought to coat his armor as proof against the caustic reagents he often worked with. Some had splashed him in the face, but it could have been a lot worse. He could have ended up like Erik. Icarus had paid that mage back for Erik. His hands still tingled with the sensation of the whisperblade's shudder as it caught on bone and gristle before scything through flesh like soft cheese. He'd spent most of the time in his workshop since they'd been back, pausing only when Sammi came by with sandwiches and asked him about his work. His answers had been terser than his normal technical ramblings, and his preoccupied mind barely registered what they talked about. The whisperblade's gyroscopic balance mechanism's were clearly miss-alligned, he now realized. It was supposed to compensate for impact. The defect had to be addressed. When he cut someone down, he should feel nothing at all. The merrow's approach snapped him out of his thoughts, but otherwise the inventor didn't much react to their charge. Icarus was a local, he knew this beach and what hunted here. He had made himself ready. Icarus flicked a toggle on what looked to be a bulky pair of ear muffs, and instantly a tone rang out in his ears, somehow mixing with the notes of the merrow's song to create silence in an odd bit of auditory alchemy. "Sammi! Let's break for ta' high ground 'for they cuts us off! I got yer back!" Field Test! Anti-merrow ear plugs: 2d6+2 9 Icarus' Anti Merrow Earplugs protect him from sonic attacks, like the Merrow's song. However, they drain 1 charge and the sound they make drives the Merrow crazy, likely putting someone on the spot. Defend Sammi: 2d6+1 8 Hold 1 Also, since we've had some downtime, rather than carrying his Pyromatic Beam Cannon, Icarus has a bandolier of Cyrogenic Explosion Flasks (near, elemental: ice, 1 wt) Baby Babbeh fucked around with this message at 01:29 on Jul 26, 2014 |
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Jul 25, 2014 22:07
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The merrow shriek -- is it fury, or terror? -- as they scramble across the sand. On land they are awkward, but just as muscular, and driven by some vicious madness. Sia, as you hurl yourself into the fray, the buzzing seeps into your mind, and the world twists around you. Chitin shatters satisfyingly beneath your fist, spraying you with stinking black ichor, but then the ground decides to turn sideways for some stupid reason. A rubbery claw whacks you in the back of the neck, and you find yourself sprawled facedown on the sand -- on the wrong side of the monsters. You splatter one of the beasts, but take 5 damage, and end up separated from the group! Rory, the song echoes in your ears as the beasts surge towards you -- and try to run right past! They're headed for Icarus; that weird whistling noise his little gadget is making must be annoying them. On the other hand, he seems unaffected by the drat song, lucky bastard. Rory, whenever you spend a hold, you'll take 2 damage from the song, but you're otherwise ready to bust some fishy heads. Icarus, your earplugs work, but oh my god they're coming right towards you! And Sammi's having some trouble running... Vimmen, the shield-banging drowns out the song to some degree, and you can think clearly. You move up to assist Rory, but that puts you directly in the way of one of the bigger merrow. Sadly, fish people have terrible manners, and it decides to go for a tackle instead of politely stepping aside! It probably weighs twice what you do -- are ya hard enough? Oh god, Sammi, now you've done it. Your veins burn, like they're filled with salt instead of blood. If your companions were in any doubt as to your unnatural gifts, they won't be after this; blood seeps from your eyes as your sclera go dead black and your veins ripple. It's bad, worse than ever before. ...no, I'm lying. The very first time was worse. What happened then? 13 damage, and a nasty mutation. Ew. As for marking XP, I'm cool with marking on a 10+, since it's sort of a strange move. Rags manages to sort of fold himself up and slide through the merrow's ranks. He makes it to Sia's side... but now what? megane fucked around with this message at 01:16 on Jul 26, 2014 |
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Jul 25, 2014 23:32
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Sia HP: 18/23 Armor 0/0 XP 4/8 I spit sand, and with a practiced grace I'm up and moving again, The one weakness of my style is that I have to keep up the momentum, always stay moving, or else I can't build up enough energy to make my strikes penetrate. The best defense is a good offense and all that. I spin and weave now, with Rags at my side. After what we've been through I trust the monster enough to put my back to him as I face the other Merrow. I step forward, focusing my energies into a pinpoint at the end of my knuckles, but suddenly I get overwhelmed once more by woozy nausea. I miss the Merrow and wind up on my knees in the sand, puking my guts up. Hack and Slash +DEX 6 Welp...+XP I manage to keep enough composure to see the Merrow I'd missed turn towards Rags, on my knees like this I can't summon up anything like my full force, but I still swing my arm out to trip up the Merrow so Rags can hit it quicker and harder. Aiding Rags +1 8 Rags gets a +1 Unfortunately, the weight of the Merrow throws me off balance again, and it takes me a distracted second to find my footing... Error 404 fucked around with this message at 01:01 on Jul 26, 2014 |
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Jul 26, 2014 00:56
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Vimmen | HP 25/25 | Armor 2+1 | XP 2 Vimmen clangs his way to the front lines, effectively keeping the buzzing din at bay. But when he lowers his makeshift drum and stick - Wilem would've been so proud, the poor bastard - he sees a huge angry merrow heading straight for him! The paladin plants his feet, bracing his shield with both hands. When the merrow hits, he drives the shield up and away from Rory, without stopping the creature's momentum. DD STR: 2d6+1 8 The merrow slams down onto the rocks on its back! It wasn't knocked unconscious by the blow though, as Vimmen had hoped. He tries to pin it with his shield, but the creature's frenzy is making it lash out frightfully with its claws and teeth! He gives the fish-thing one more bash with his shield, then drives his sword into its heart, hoping to end its miserable, heathen life once and for all! HnS: 2d6+1 12 Damage v Merrow: 1d10+1 10
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Jul 26, 2014 02:32
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Ah Jesus! Like a moron I forgot to point out that due to the choice of Wyrd Warped monster origin Sammi only takes d4 damange from the Wyrd. I'll stick with the 13 for now, because oh god. But I thought k should make you aware. I'll post my move later. On phone in work.
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Jul 26, 2014 09:10
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Rory Watchtower HP: 27/27 Armor: 1 XP: 1/8 As much as he wanted to brawl with the sirens, everyone else insisted on getting in on Rory's fun. Now this workout was turning into a screwed up mess. If it was just Sia and himself out here, they could have booked when things turned ugly, but he had to keep an eye out for the whelps, lest they, too, are struck down before they can leave a mark on the world. Bringing the long, heavy sword around, Rory stopped the remaining marrow with a broad swing, forcing the ones passing him to consider him as their only source of food for the time being. "You can't leave now, not when I'm getting excited!" spending as much hold as I need to to redirect attacks from Icarus to myself, I'm not sure how many Merrow there are. Is that all you've got?: 2d6+1 10 Reduce any damage taken by half and take "block next attack with ease." This will immediately be used on the next attack. It really seemed like these guys were no longer a fan of Rory, what a shame. They raked and clawed at him, but with thw reach of his sword he was able to keep them at bay. With their attentions on him now, Rory got to work with the giant blade, whirling it high over his head before it came down in its deadly arc. Cutting through meat and bone, he began to filet the fish monster in front of him. Beyond the Merrow he faced, he could see Sia stagger, having difficulties with the disorientation these things cause. He'd have to cut down the ones here first before he could lend a hand. He was sure she could handle herself, but he certainly didn't feel like loosing another comrades on this poo poo coastline, especially his favorite drinking buddy. "I know you not the type to be taken down by bad seafood, get up and send them back into the brine." He egged her on. [I]Hack/Slash: 2d6+2 7 Damage: 1d8 6
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Jul 26, 2014 09:48
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Sammi Cubrick - AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!!! HP: 10/23 Wyrd: 3, XP: 3 She burned. Oh god, oh god it hurts. She couldn't see, she couldn't- Ahhgk! Sammi's scream was somehow louder than the song of the monsters chasing them down. Sammi ran a little way spurned on by little more than the momentum she already had going. Then she hit the sand. Hard. The air rushed from her lungs, but that didn't matter, it hurt too much to breath. She spasamed, her muscles twitching and jerking as she nearly blacked out, but that didn't matter. Somewhere in the midst of it all she vomited. It might have been blood, or that might have just been the blood from her eyes getting mixed in. It didn't matter. She'd suffered worse than this. That night. The night they'd escaped. The night that bastards mansion had burned to the ground. She'd burned then too. But it hadn't been LIKE her blood was on fire. Her blood had BECOME fire. And so had she. She'd writhed and screamed and burned and destroyed and at the end of it all. When Rags pulled her from the ashes, she knew that nothing she ever experienced could hurt as badly as that had done. Sammi managed to get her hand under control and started to push herself to her feet. The arm gave out once, then twice, but held firm the third time. Sammi didn't have time, those things were bearing down on her. "I-Ic- Ahhck, Icarus, h-help-!" She sputtered. Hoping the inventor was close enough to see what had happened. She would need his help if she was going to be able to run. Rags - The Monk was struggling, that much was clear. But she was still fighting. What a wonderful little example of humanity's tenacity. With a grin that stretched far beyond the restrictions a normal face should grant, and eyes glowing with inhuman enjoyment. Rags swung both his arms upwards, weaving the ends into sickle blades, and slammed the blades deep into the flesh underneath the Merrow's jaw, sinking his claws in and pulling it up towards his head. Stealing its attention away from the flagging Sai forcefully. --- Do A Thing! (Attack): 2d6+4 7 Damage to Merrow: 1d8 4 Consequence - the Monster draws unwanted attention. Arashiofordo3 fucked around with this message at 20:59 on Jul 26, 2014 |
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Jul 26, 2014 20:56
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Sia, this just isn't your day, is it? You must be out of practice -- how long has it been since you had a real fight? Your confusion is broken by a pair of clammy almost-hands clamping onto your shoulders. Rags manages to stab the thing as it lifts you off the ground. The beast flings you away with a shriek of pain, then turns to tear its attacker asunder. There's a brief moment of blissful weightlessness, then you're shocked back to full alertness as you plunge into the freezing water a few feet offshore. Strange lights play beneath you, far off in the deeps. Odd... beneath the water, the merrow's song sounds... so... beautiful..... Wouldn't it be so wonderful to just stay under here forever? Sia will have to do something (Defy Danger, possibly) if she wants to break the song's effect. Who needs air anyway? Rags finds himself alone, tangled around (and inside) a merrow that's trying to pull him apart! Vimmen and Rory, you're having a bit more luck, thankfully. Vimmen tilts his shield and heaves the huge seadweller off to one side, where it crashes to the sand. Before it can react, he drives his gleaming sword down into its eye! With a wail far too close to human, it dies messily at the paladin's feet. Its brother makes a mad dash towards Icarus, but finds itself confronted with a quarter ton of unimpressed northman. Rory looks down at it as it scratches ineffectually at his armour, then casually smashes it across the face with his backswing, sending the whole wave of attackers sprawling. Their two largest members out of the fight, the smaller merrow falter, backing nervously towards the sea. If benthic horrors can look worried, these certainly do. Vimmen, you've killed the bastard, but your sword is currently jammed into its skull. It'll take a strength check or similar to pry it out. Rory, you take 2 damage for spending a hold, then 3/2 = 2 more from the first attack, but block the next. The sirens look stymied and ready to break! Sammi slumps to the sand; Icarus stands guard, unable to help against the demon inside her. As Sammi's vision slowly clears, the two see a dark shape rise from behind a nearby dune between them and the path to the shrine. Though clearly a relative of the seadwellers behind them, it is smaller and sleeker, with eyes far more focused than its brethren and a long, barbed spear clutched in one claw. Even more disturbing are the tattoos: alien curves, marked in deep crimson, cover the creatures' hide. Icarus knows that merrow can barely use tools. Only the octopus-men could have applied these. Sorry about getting the Wyrd damage wrong! You might want to change it on your sheet in case I forget in future. megane fucked around with this message at 00:38 on Jul 27, 2014 |
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Jul 27, 2014 00:33
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Sia HP: 18/23 Armor 0/0 XP 4/8 I'm going to assume I defy danger with Wis rather than Dex here, because it's about noticing rather than moving quick. This is just not my fuckin week. I think to myself as I contemplate the lights...ooh shiny... Defy Danger +WIS 8 The cold finally gets to me, and I snap out of it. Oh poo poo! I surge back onto the beach and leap once more into the fray, gotta stay moving, gotta keep going... Hack and Slash +DEX 9 H&S damage 4 damage, Piercing 2, Messy, and Forceful I grab hold of the closest Merrow (the bastard that threw me). With a graceful spin I lift it up, pirouette, and then slam it down so hard I hear a satisfying crack. I let the other smaller monsters return to the sea, how nice of me. "Hahaha!" I crow, waving to the others, "Merrow only know one language, blood. That makes me the loving alphabet." I throw up my hands and smile, soaking wet, freezing, covered in ichor, and ignorant of the newcomer behind the group. I lean on Rags a second, catching my breath and flipping my sodden hair out of my eyes. "That was fuckin fun!"  this new guy seems tough.
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Jul 27, 2014 01:22
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Vimmen | HP 25/25 | Armor 2+1 | XP 2 The heavy sea-beast's skull has bitten down on the paladin's blade and refused to let go. No matter! Vimmen lifts his foot, rearing back while holding the sword's pommel, then slams his foot into the creature's head, hoping to crush its skull to free his sword. DD STR: 2d6+1 4 ...but something goes wrong.
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Jul 27, 2014 04:26
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Rory Watchtower HP: 23/27 Armor: 1 XP: 1/8 "If you wanted to get pitched into the ocean, you should have had me do it. By the looks of it, these mud-crawlers were giving you a lesson in speaking blood, too!" Rory didn't even take a break from beating the tar out of fish-folk for fun as he quipped at Sia's messy brawl. These things were mostly a joke, he was going to be sure to break their backs well for his workout. Reaching out with his mitts, his titan's grasp clenched on the face of the fallen merrow in front of the group of weakling. It only took one heave to lift the entire thing off the ground, rag-doll body hanging limp below as it was suspended off the ground by its head. "Is this your best?" He roared at the sirens, unsure if they even could understand him. "This is all you can offer? If any of you beasts have a real challenge, step up; or else I want to see every one of you lovely sea-creatures off my beach!" Unceremoniously, he dropped the limp merrow at his feet. If words don't get through their salt-filled ears, his boasting surely put on a show none the less. Though he didn't know about the advanced threat further up the beach, his bravado was large enough to be seen from space, and surely the clever, sand-digging merrow knew a threat when it saw one. Parley; Get off my 'plane!': 2d6+1 12 to scare these fuckers off the beach, my leverage is: not brutally murdering every last one of them. Inadvertently, I also feel like I could invoke this effect: Showboat: 2d6+2 10 When you perform a feat of strength in front of an audience, [on 10+] keep their attention as they watch in I figure I can startle the other attackers by chance as well!
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Jul 27, 2014 07:26
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Yeah, I should have made that clearer for you, my bad. Sammi Cubrick - still AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHHHH!!! HP: 10/23 Wyrd: 3, XP: 3 Oh good, more of these things. Spear wielders too. Sammi croaked out a warning to Icarus. She tried to make it loud enough for Rags to hear, but it felt as if her chest was being crushed in a vice. She could barely suck in enough air as it was. If these monsters didn't kill her she might just suffocate. She tried to draw her dagger, but her swollen hard just wouldn't close enough to hold it. She coughed and tried desparatly to gulp down air. She needed to stand, stand up. Stand up! God damnit stand! Rags The creature were fleeing, pity. But there was always fresh dangers lurking somewhere. Rags sniffed the air. "I suspect we will have more fun before the day-" One scent. The smell of Sammi's blood filled him. Eyes erupted along his entire frame. Where was she? Then he saw it. Sammi on the ground. Some other monster standing in the way of her escape. She was wounded. Rags's jaw unhinged, his form unwravaling and re-knitting itself into something decidedly inhuman. All fangs and thrashing tendrils. Blades and spikes. It let out a roar of fury and changed. Flowing towards the attackers in the back like a force of nature. Pitiless, and filled with infinate destruction. --- Rags is moving over to the other group with his wicked fast and shapeshifting. If you want me to roll anything I will.
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Jul 27, 2014 11:01
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Sia HP: 18/23 Armor 0/0 XP 4/8 "Holy gently caress!" I'm caught off guard by Rags' roaring and his going apeshit. gently caress, this must mean Sammi's been hurt. I react on instinct and grab a strip of him-cloth, borrowing some of his momentum to carry me along in his wake. Likewise, let me know if I should roll, otherwise I'm just gonna arrive with Rags.
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Jul 27, 2014 17:24
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Error', Sia should totally be sand surfing in Rags's wake, pulling sweet stunts and sick flips all the way.if you like he can even launch you into the fight. It would be all like -insert fist bumpping smilies here-
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Jul 27, 2014 17:56
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Good plan! Launch away
Error 404 fucked around with this message at 18:23 on Jul 27, 2014 |
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Jul 27, 2014 18:20
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Icarus HP 19/19 Armor 1 XP 2 Charge 1/3 Defend: 1 Hold Icarus planted his feet and squared himself to approaching merrow, (Was it a merrow? It seemed different than the others, and Icarus had never bothered to make a close study of the beasts, having mostly accepted the common Codcliffe wisdom that anything that comes from the sea that can't be made into fish pie should be given a wide berth.) Those markings, though, those seemed familiar — the whorls and vortices reminded him of the octopus folk script on the stones the fisherman hung on the prows of their ships for good luck, relics of a time when the town and the seadwellers were on closer terms. Spout Lore: Any significance to that tattoo script?: 2d6+2 10 It didn't matter, anyway. If what Sia said was true, and he had no reason to believe that it wasn't, these things were ambush predators — and that meant the one he saw was probably drawing attention for two or more that he didn't. Blindly rushing the thing would just separate him from Sammi, who was clearly in no condition to fight. That thing that travelled with her would probably come to her aid, but Icarus rather hoped that it wouldn't. He remembered that time in the cave, watching what he thought was an Imperial functionary somehow... unfold, remembered the brutal efficiency with which it dispatched the corsairs that had cornered them. That was horrible... so much blood. But worse was after, Sammi doubled over and puking black ichor into the sand. Icarus didn't know much of demonology, but the two were linked somehow, and it didn't seem Rags could help her without hurting her. So he squared his hips and waited for the thing to charge, removing a long glass phial from the bandolier across his chest and twisting it's cap, breaking a thin film inside it which was the only thing stopping two powerful alchemical reagents from mixing. Instantly, the phial began to glow. Frost formed across its surface as its temperature dropped low enough to fast freeze the moisture in the air, and Icarus' hand began to go numb where he clutched it. That's another stupid defect of this armor, he thought as he tossed it at the charging merrow. When he used ice, he really should wear gloves. Volley: Cyrogenic Explosion Flask: 2d6+2 6 Spending 1 charge to roll with Int instead of Dex, but it's not enough to make it a successful roll.
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Jul 28, 2014 05:34
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Phoneposting from Barcelona; sorry for any typos etc. Rory, these weaklings know their number is up, and that number is "Rory." In the face of your howling, their cautious retreat turns into a full blown panic and they scuttle madly towards the sea! They are, at least, smart enough to give Rags and Sia a wide berth. The poor fool they dismembered is left for dead. Monk and monster share a glance, then take off across the darkening strand. Sia, you've known Rags is somehow unnatural for a while now. What's your best guess as to what he really is? Icarus, you've never seen this in your lifetime, but old fishermen love telling unlikely stories about the good old times. These tattoos remind you of a local folk tale called the Painted Siren; the merrow in the story is a cowardly witch that places a curse on the village after town hero Captain Maers seduces its wife (this was one of those stories your mother disapproved of). Young John told you that one; he's dead, but his grandchildren probably remember more about it than you. Anyway, thinking about this must have distracted you: your phial sticks to your hand just enough to throw off your aim. Instead of freezing the newcomer solid, it explodes against a dune, producing a (quite impressive) cloud of freezing fog. Your invention works! Now if only you could solve the problem where it completely blocks your view of the enemy. This is precisely what the spear-fish was waiting for. It moves like silk on glass, faster than seems natural. Vimmen finally manages to wrench his sword free just in time to feel six inches of black iron pierce his breastplate and slide into his shoulder. 4 damage for Vimmen. The smaller enemies are fleeing before the shouts of Rory, and Sia and Rags make it over to where the tattooed fishman is. Sammi, you're feeling strong enough to move again. Learned our lesson, have we? e: I didn't miss Rory's Showboating, it just hasn't had a visible effect yet. megane fucked around with this message at 00:23 on Jul 29, 2014 |
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Jul 28, 2014 23:29
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Vimmen | HP 21/25 | Armor 2+1 | XP 3 I had a feeling that low-effort failurepost would net me some damage... Vimmen is about to thank Bolt for freeing his sword from its brief imprisonment when he feels a cold metal spear drive into his shoulder - adulation would have to wait. He grabs at the spear's shaft with his shield-hand and rips it from his shoulder with a roar of anger, forcing himself to act through the intense pain. DD (CON): 2d6+1 9 The weapon is clearly of fishman make, but Vimmen didn't see whoever stuck him - maybe a glimpse, but the damnable thing was moving too fast. Throwing the spear to the ground, Vimmen raises his sword and shield and hunkers down. He turns in a low, slow circle, trying to get a bead on the aggressor. The other merrow are diving back under the waves, and a fog seems to be rolling in over the dunes... But where is the spear-stabber? Discern Realities: 2d6 8 What should I be on the lookout for?
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Jul 29, 2014 00:23
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Sia HP: 18/23 Armor 0/0 XP 4/8 I hang on tightly to the torn cloth that makes up Rags' true form as he races toward the new enemy. I dig my heels into the soft sand, using my own abilities to keep myself upright, I even manage to show off a little bit as i sand-ski, and with an unspoken glance, Rags and I reach an understanding. He suddenly skids to a stop, and I turn with the acceleration, gaining even more speed, suddenly the slack on the cloth strip tightens and I'm flung through the air...    !And I collide, feet first, with the tattooed fishman's chest, all the combined energy of monster, monk, and Newton's First Law focused into an area smaller around than a coin. Hack and Slash +DEX 11 H&S damage +d6 10 damage Piercing 2, Messy, and Forceful My strike lands solidly, making a sickening crack, spraying thick gouts of ichor, and knocking the fishman back a dozen feet or more. I use the sudden transferrence of kinetic energy to propel myself into a backwards flip, landing myself lightly in the sand, I'm buzzing with unrestrained potential energy at the ready. The fishman is laid out before me, several of whatever it uses for arms hanging useless on one side, many of them mangled or even severed from the sheer power of my attack. quote:you've known Rags is somehow unnatural for a while now. What's your best guess as to what he really is? Whereas my personal style is all about focusing and redistributing (kinetic, centrifugal, inertial, chi) energy in the most damaging and spectacular ways possible, Sammi's past abuses and lack of confidence have created a sort of split in her personality. Her light side, her cheerfulness and sweetness are plagued by doubt and suffocated in fear and self-loathing, she keeps herself wrapped up in the anguish of her past. The confident side of her is also her darkness, which is where she draws her power from, but since she cannot yet face that side of herself, her power manifests as this 'other' to which she has given form through her unconscious will. It protects her, avenges her, cares for her needs. That is what Rags is, a split personality and imaginary friend given form by a potentially scary powerful mystic initiate. She uses her own power to punish and disfigure herself for letting herself (Rags) give in to the lust for battle, the need to test yourself against a greater force and come out victorious or dead. I look forward to the day when Sammi realizes all this and embraces her power, one way or another that would be one hell of a fight. (Yes, I know Sia is completely wrong about what Rags is, but this fits her world-view and what she's observed.  )
Error 404 fucked around with this message at 06:02 on Jul 29, 2014 |
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Jul 29, 2014 05:57
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Sammi Cubrick - Slightly less Aaaaaaaaaggggghhhhh!!! HP: 10/23 Wyrd: 3, XP: 3 Sammi managed to push herself to one knee, her limbs shook so much she worried that she would fall again. With an effort of will she stood up, her body screaming at every moment. She reached for Icarus and lent her weight against him, gasping for air. She trembled from the pain. But she could stand. As Sia might say, 'Ha ha, fuckers!' Speaking of Sia this was the moment that a lot of things happened. The creature stabbed the paladin, Icarus's flask exploded into a wall of ice between them and the monster, and Sia flew through the air like a arrow and kicked it a good couple metres. Then Rags- Rags - SKREEEEEEIIIIII!!! And other such noises. Rags scooped up Sammi and Icarus, surrounding them with his fabric-like form. Hissing and screatching at the crab thing. If it dared to come near Rags wound destroy it. Inside Rags tendrels investigated Sammi checking for wounds and finding only mutation. A side effect of a poor channelling. He'd warned her about pushing it, it seems like they would be having another conversation- Rags noticed that Sammi was still hanging onto Icarus, what was more it seemed like she had no intention to let go any time soon... His form swooshed around them, a tempest of cloth. He would guard both of them, until the danger had passed. Arashiofordo3 fucked around with this message at 18:08 on Jul 29, 2014 |
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Jul 29, 2014 16:19
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Rory Watchtower HP: 23/27 Armor: 1 XP: 1/8 Screaming insults to add to injury, Rory kicked sand at the retreating merrow. With the fish-men routed, he spat on the sand and the body of the slain merrow at his feet. It was only at the end of his ritual of disrespect that he turned to see Vimmen roar in agony as he withdrew a spear-tip from his shoulder, his assailant unknown. Did this thing just slither away after the stabbing or is it still sticking around? whats the situation look like?
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Jul 29, 2014 17:27
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Sia, your flying leap is quick, but not quite quick enough. Your victim surprises you by twirling its jointless arms in an impossible pattern, weaving magic that brings sheer pain, like an icy knife in your heart! But pain is nothing to you. You slam into the merrow's... let's call it a "shoulder"... with tremendous force, force enough to shatter bone. Tendons tear free beneath your pinpoint strike, and the beast goes flying, crashing into a nearby rock formation. One of its limbs is sort of stuck to your shoe, uck, it's even still twitching. Pulling itself back to its feet, it screeches something that almost sounds like words -- a sound that will haunt you for days. The counterattack deals 8 damage to you, but squidface is not looking good! Vimmen, as Sia connects, the merrow loses its grip on its spear, and you manage to painfully extract it. It's of a strange make; octopus-folk make their weapons out of obsidian, so it's not one of theirs, but it doesn't look like human make either. And... oh good. There's a slight oily residue on the head. Of course it would be poisoned. Normal healing will fix your HP, but poison might require a more specific treatment. Rory, the last of the normal merrow disappear beneath the tide, leaving you to look for Vimmen's assailant. It's glaring at Sia, obviously trying to decide what to do: its allies have fled, it's bleeding heavily, and all of its potential targets are well defended, but it almost seems like it wants to fight anyway. Then it suddenly turns and looks up at the cliff. Following its gaze, you can pick out the figure of the priest, silhouetted against the early stars. His arrival seems to be the tipping point; your tattooed opponent decides discretion is the better part of valour, and tries to slip away into the night! It's trying to get away; you can follow if you wish, or go up to speak to the priest.
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Jul 31, 2014 11:19
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Sia - Ow! HP: 10/23 Armor 0/0 XP 5/8 I get a split second to admire my handiwork before I feel a cold so deep it burns, it's like my veins have flash frozen, I gasp for air but nothing comes of it. 'Oh no you are NOT shooting that magic poo poo at me!' I stomp after the retreating squiddie, and once I close to within a few feet I launch myself at the Merrow once more... Hack and Slash +DEX 4 (+XP) Aaaaaand I miss by inches, getting a second faceful of sand in as many minutes.
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Jul 31, 2014 12:59
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Rory Watchtower HP: 23/27 Armor: 1 XP: 1/8 Rory can't help but laugh as Sia misses the mark yet again, "Let me show you how it is done!" He calls out, determined to make a show of force in front of his counterpart. Shoving the blade of his greatsword into the sand, looking much like a gravestone sticking up, Rory crouched down, bunching up the tendons and muscles in his legs. Like a catapult snapping back upright, Rory launched into a great leap, hurling himself into the air with incredible force. Sailing through the air, Rory had a brief moment to glance over at the priest perched on the cliff. What he was doing climbing around on the cliffs at such a dangerous time of day was a mystery, but Rory didn't like the implications of it. If the old man was going to come all the way out here with them, why make them walk on the beach if he was going to just climb the cliffs? Time to ponder was short lived, as the ground was fast approaching again. Clasping his fist into his other hand, he jutted his elbow forwards, driving the hardened bone into his fleshy opponent as he dropped onto the poor beast's broken back. Leap, on the merrow: 2d6+2 13 Damage with fists (Blunt): 1d8 5 Thanks, I misunderstood where everyone was, I thought Sammi and Icarus were far away from Vimmen and I for some reason.
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Jul 31, 2014 14:53
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Vimmen | HP 21/25 | Armor 2+1 | XP 3 The paladin shudders with pain as Sia's flying kick sends the slippery fishman flying, leaving his spear thrumming deep in Vimmen's shoulder. He pulls it out, examining the black iron spearhead. Black iron... Bolt and his allies use weapons made from shining steel, the better to reflect Bolt's light and channel His power - what enemy of good could have created this weapon? Just then, a flash of lightning illuminates the silhouette of Father Freshly on the clifftop, as well as reflecting off the sheen of oily poison that remains on the spearhead. Spout Lore: 2d6 5 Marking XP... 3->4 As Rory throws himself into an impressive leap to catch the retreating merrow, Vimmen wipes some of the residue onto his fingers, tasting it. "Poison..." Vimmen snaps the spear in two and throws it to the ground. It's not a strain he recognizes, and already his head seems to cloud - though whether it's the poison acting already, or merely anxiety, it's impossible to tell. "Icarus! To me, boy! Have you anything for poison? I... I've been infected!"
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Jul 31, 2014 19:18
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Icarus HP 19/19 Armor 1 XP 2 Charge 1/3 Icarus bends down and helps Sammi to her feet, doing his best not to shudder at the black magic aberrations that have formed thanks to her "friend." "Ye alright there? Looks like Rags and Sia did for that fishman. Safe now, ah?" he said. He didn't have much time to chat, however, because Vimmen apparently needed his help. There was a first time for everything, he supposed. "Gimme that here," he said. "I'll do me best." The spearhead was of a make he didn't recognize, but the oil spread across the blade needed no introduction. Poison. There were any number of reagents that could be used to make a good blade oil in the area around Codcliffe, which was bad. Treatment depended on knowing what had been used. Icarus touched the tip to his tongue. Bitter. Slight taste of rotting bananas, a smell not unlike lamp oil. That could be... Bitterblight? But no, that would have caused sweating and muscle spasms already, even for someone as large as Vimmen. Perhaps extract of Skull Ray bile...? Using Let Me See That. Asking: What can I do to fix this.
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Jul 31, 2014 19:33
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Sammi Cubrick - Getting this poo poo under control HP: 10/23 Wyrd: 3, XP: 3 Rags's examinations were comforting, like the cool soothing hand on a feverish brow. Well, if the hand was made of cloth, and the fever was massive internal pain and bleeding from the eyeballs. Okay, so she sucked at metaphors (was it metaphors? Pain made thinking hard) She murmured her thanks into Icarus's chest as he gently helped her. She would have said it to his face, but she lacked the ability to look up right now. She'd have to save her thanks for later. But she needed to focus. Her weakness could be endangering the others. Icarus was safe, surrounded by Rags as they were. But what about Sia? What about Rory and Vimmen? They could be dying right now and here she was clinging to Icarus like a scared school girl! Sammi let go of Icarus and Rags caught and supported her immediately. He clung to her tighter than usual, clearly she'd worried him. This was confirmed when she felt a hand press against her cheek, she pushed back against it. Whispering "I'm o-okay, I'm all right." The shout from Vimmen went up, poison! Sammi limped painfully to the wounded warrior, Rags following around her like an angry swarm of bees. Agitated and looking for any excuse to attack something. She bit her lip, trying to keep the stabs of pain from becoming vocal. She picked up the spear as Icarus had and dabbed her finger in the goop, sniffed it, rubbed it between her fingers, and finally with a grimace tasted it. Green Bite, she knew that flavour, she'd had it pumping through her before. Her master had delighted in testing poisons on her, most in a low enough dosage to not be lethal. It had given her ample time to become intimate with the contents of his apothecaries store room. The Green Bite had been one of his favourites. He'd nearly killed her with it twice! An antidote existed, she'd been given enough of it. "G-Green Bite, I-I'm sure of it. I-It'll start as light headedness, next come hallucinations. A-After that vomiting and an unquenchable thirst. T-Then... u-uhm, ...d-death..." The question was, what was the antidote? And could she focus enough through the pain to remember how to make it? --- Spout lore - poison: 2d6+2 9 Rags Sammi was walking again, good. It would only worry the others if he'd had to carry her. He couldn't help but feel a sliver of smug satisfaction as she let go of Icarus and fell into his hold. She was his, his! Not this upstart inventor with his fancy gadgets and actual blood...! ...Okay, that was strange... Yep, what the hell. Not normal. The bond seemed to be having an effect on him. Stronger than he'd expected too. That flash of possessiveness brought on by a combination of worry over her wounds and simulated human envy, could be dangerous if left unchecked. Especially to this boy. He'd always known that the bond could create strong feelings of attachment to the bondie, but the subtleness of it had caught him off guard. Well, it wouldn't do so again. Rags reasserted himself on himself. Sticking close to Sammi and supporting her movement. Making note of Sia's ostrich impression for later on. He would enjoy replaying that for Sammi's amusement and teasing Sia with it. Although he might have to hold onto it for a while. The paladin was poisoned, pity, he'd started to enjoy having the man about. Anyone who through getting struck by lightning was a good thing was the exact kind of person that Rags enjoyed hanging around. Well, he would leave this one to the humans to solve. Arashiofordo3 fucked around with this message at 20:37 on Jul 31, 2014 |
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Jul 31, 2014 20:23
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The retreating merrow makes it over only a few dunes before Sia catches up. They lash at each other, but though Sia's fury is matched only by her enemy's desparation, they are both heavily wounded. Neither is able to land more than a glancing strike. But when it sees Rory hurtling through the air, it knows that this is the end. It can't fight both of you, and with its injuries it'll never escape. It ceases its struggles, staring at you with grim resolution and... it that... a smile? "Sssssiiiiiah," it hisses. Then the northman lands upon it, and it moves no more. No injuries for Sia, but the merrow is dead. I'll post about the poison when I get back home in a few hours.
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Aug 1, 2014 09:39
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Sia HP: 20/23 Armor 0/0 XP 5/8 quote:"Sssssiiiiiah," it hisses. "What the gently caress!?" I shout just as Rory lands on the fuckin bastard. my vision gets obscured for a moment as more ichor splashes into my face. ew. I smell like a fish-cannery. I start scooping foul goop and sand off of myself and stand up. "Thanks for the backup Amicus*, but I woulda had the guy, I swear. Also that fucker knew my name, what the gently caress y'know?" I say, patting Rory on the chest plate, making sure to smear a little merrow-juice on his much-cleaner-than-me armor. I sigh wearily as I root around in my pack, I pull out a small ceramic bottle**, topped with wax. with a swipe of my thumb I break the seal and quickly down the contents, it tastes like rear end and burnt hair. I make a face at but I can feel my wounds closing and warmth and strength returning to my body. Marking healing potion use. I look around, there's the fucker priest, I'm not sure but I think he may have set us up. but everyone else is gathered around somethi- poo poo! I sprint towards the group, just in time to hear Sammi proclaim the name of the poison. I kneel next to the (possibly) insane and rambling paladin. I try to smile reassuringly "Heya there, remember when you healed me way back on the road with those golems? I-I told ya I'd get ya back..." I start grabbing carefully wrapped supplies out of my pack, setting them gingerly down in the sand beside me as I inspect Vimmen's wound. I search my memory for anything the old masters at my school had taught me about herb lore and poisons, especially green-bite: Spout Lore +INT 7 I'm going to use that knowledge to try and cure, or at least slow down, the poison using my poultices and herbs. So just go ahead and describe that if that's what happens and I'll mark that use later. *Amicus means friend in latin, which is the archaic Imperial dialect Sia grew up speaking, because lol, everyone expects a kung fu monk to be asian. But we have a roman-inspired empire, why not speak "roman"? haha. ** A Healing Potion is awful tasting and highly concentrated. one dose is about the size of a shot (1.5 fl oz u.s.)
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Aug 1, 2014 20:09
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Sammi Cubrick HP: 10/23 Wyrd: 3, XP: 3 Sammi was thinking through her options when Sia made her apperance. She was overjoyed to see her friend was in one piece, though it was a short lived feeling when the stench hit her. Oh god, fishman guts. Ack. Sammi covered her nose with both hands and tried to hold her breath against the nauseating stench of dead whatever-the-gently caress-that-was, but even so it was still strong enough to make her eyes water. She hoped that she just looked worried, her large eyes wide with the hint of tears forming at the plight of the paladin. She really hoped that was how it looked. Sammi didn't think she had the heart to tell Sia she stank of gross dead thing. She was far to shy to say anything. Rags Rags offered Sia the use of one of his many arms to wipe some of the remaining gunk off. It was only polite after all.
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Aug 1, 2014 20:39
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