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CourValant posted:Honestly, I don't know how we're going to get out of this one. This I guess. Hail Mary on the mist of the alchemist. Outrail fucked around with this message at 02:32 on Mar 20, 2019 |
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Mar 20, 2019 02:27
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I think a better question might be, do you want to play this Defensively, keeping the Vespids of off the Alchemist, or Offensively, going after the Royals directly? If so, which one will you focus on yourself?
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Mar 20, 2019 13:11
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Defensive: there's a billion bees around us. Only chance we have is to trust the alchemist knew what he was doing
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Mar 20, 2019 14:13
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Slaan posted:Defensive: there's a billion bees around us. Only chance we have is to trust the alchemist knew what he was doing Agreed
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Mar 20, 2019 14:23
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Slaan posted:Defensive: there's a billion bees around us. Only chance we have is to trust the alchemist knew what he was doing
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Mar 20, 2019 15:01
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Defensive
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Mar 20, 2019 16:10
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D+🤺
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Mar 20, 2019 20:43
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Swedish Thaumocracy posted:I think a better question might be, do you want to play this Defensively, keeping the Vespids of off the Alchemist, or Offensively, going after the Royals directly? If so, which one will you focus on yourself? Not sure if I should vote again or if my previous post counts. Vote: Defensive
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Mar 20, 2019 21:34
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Swedish Thaumocracy posted:I think a better question might be, do you want to play this Defensively, keeping the Vespids of off the Alchemist, or Offensively, going after the Royals directly? If so, which one will you focus on yourself? What this guy/girl/arthropod said.
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Mar 21, 2019 01:36
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Bee Fence wait
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Mar 22, 2019 05:29
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Circle the Wagons.
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Mar 27, 2019 11:27
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Slice of Life - The Contract Courtroom, Interior. A Mrs. Willson stands accused of murdering the late Mr. Whittaker. The woman denies all wrongdoing and her defense attorney is adamant that all the charges against her should be dropped. The Lawmaster residing, one Liam Bellsworth, a young dwarf with dark official robes and black-trim framed yellow glasses sits on the High Chair with an expression of some annoyance plain on his features. The trial had already taken three hours more than it had any right to take and the defense was pulling out all the stops to get his client off scot-free, arguing that the woman had filed the appropriate forms for Freelance Work with the local Guild of Assassins affiliate two weeks in advance and that it wasn't her fault that the Watch had not been notified, or that the paperwork had gotten lost somewhere along the way. Just before the thin veneer of civility is about to give in to shouting and violence, the prosecution chimes in with a last ditch, desperate display of oneuppersonship.  "Fine. If you insist on on mocking our system with your obstruction, you leave me no choice. The Defense would like to call to Witness: She Who Glimmers, Whose Dominion is Commerce and Trade, She Whom In Whose Radiant Shadow We Bask, mortal, fallible, Deity of the Imperial Triumverate; the Right and Honourable Lady of Heaven: the Goddess Quackeen."  <Sweating slightly.> Is this really necessary?  "Objection! Come now, let's be reasonable here, surely the word of the Guildmaster would be enough?"  "<Sigh.> Objection dismissed. Motion granted. Bailiff, please remove the necessary wealth from the defendants designated bail fund." An anxious looking man with sand-blonde hair and the official uniform of the Imperial Courthouse Clerks nervously makes his way over to a large chest sitting in one corner of the room next to a wheelbarrow, which he quickly fills to about one forth's full of various coins, proceeding to bring them to an open pit in the middle of the courtroom whereupon he dumps the metal currency deep into the monetary well, ceremoniously returning it to whence it came and removing it from circulation. A nearby, hiertoo unoccupied seat is suddenly occupied, though no other movement occurred within the scene.  <Yawn.> What is it now? No, don't tell me. Another Trial? Very well, get it over with quickly. Time is money." "Your Grace, this trembling soldier of the Empire would humbly ask Your Divine Service in rendering Imperial Justice this day; would that thou show us the mercy of thine wisdom and aid in our judgement on this day." "Please, get on with it already." "The Right and Honourable Lady of Heaven will follow protocol." <Delivered somewhat sarcastically> This One, Equal Amongst Three, Hears Your Prayer and Extends In Service Of The Empire Her Judgement.> "Your Grace, this trembling soldier of the Empire would humbly ask if in your Infintie Sight you have knowledge of the identity of the killer in question." "Yes." "The Right and Honourable Lady of Heaven will follow protocol." "<Dejected.> "Fine. Yes. This One, Whom Resides On High, Your Lady of Overflowing Splendor, responds in the Affirmative to your inquiry." "Your Grace, this trembling soldier of the Empire would humbly ask that the identity of the murderer be known." "This One, the Invisible Hand of the Market, She Who Guides the Empire to its Fortunes, confirms that the requested identity is indeed one and the same as that off the accused. Can I go now?" "Do not make me repeat myself again, Oh Right and Honourable Lady of Heaven." "Thank you Sir, one more question if I may?" "It's going to cost you." "Bailif!" <The anxious clerk scuttles away again, bringing another fourth-filled wheelbarrow of cold, hard cash over to the pit where he repeats the same pouring procedure as before.> "Thank you, Sir. This trembling soldier of the Empire would humbly ask if You Who Rule Over Road and Lane, Overseeing Our Growth and the Stability of Our Upward Trending Graphs, would in your Capacity as the Goddess of Deals have born witness to this supposed contract?" "She has." "Ahem." "This One, Whom Layeth and Nurtures the Golden Egg, Whom To All Is Owed and Owns All, Whose Features Are Golden As Dawn; Has." "Thank you oh bountiful Goddess, Our Lady of Greed. This trembling soldier of the Empire would humbly ask, if the contract was thus written, where is it now?" <Smirking.> "Eaten by dire-rats, invited to feast through poor maintenance and ill-equipped, lazy layabout Watchmen." <Grumbling even more.> "The Goddess has spoken. The Heavens have replied. On the Charge of Unsanctioned Murder, the Defendant is proven Innocent. On the apparently new charges of general incompetence, the Prosecution is proven guilty; tasked with repaying the missing two fourths of the defendants bail, and another fourth for wasting everyone's time. On the equally new charges of not taking the proper precautions to rat-proof and duplicate the documentation necessary for guild-approved freelance inhumination, the defendant is sentenced to two years of hard labour. Case dismissed." "Finally. Later, losers."
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Mar 27, 2019 15:00
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Hard work and all that is great but Quakeen is the tits.
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Mar 27, 2019 15:28
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'bout them bees tho... We dead.
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Mar 27, 2019 19:12
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Outrail posted:Hard work and all that is great but Quakeen is the tits. Truth
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Mar 27, 2019 19:23
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Swedish Thaumocracy posted:Slice of Life - The Contract You really do bring us the best Heresies. Cornuto posted:'bout them bees tho... Yeah, probably.
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Mar 27, 2019 19:35
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So was the defendant responsible for the rat proofing and duplicating the documents that the Watch allowed to get eaten?
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Mar 28, 2019 02:25
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They should have filled out their forms in triplicate and kept backups
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Mar 28, 2019 03:02
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Hexenritter posted:They should have filled out their forms in triplicate and kept backups LOL just lol if you only make a mere three copies of any document in a bureaucratic society.
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Mar 28, 2019 06:07
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Apocron posted:So was the defendant responsible for the rat proofing and duplicating the documents that the Watch allowed to get eaten? The murder defendant was released, the prosecutor became the new defendant.
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Mar 28, 2019 06:10
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Makes sense, if a citizen follows through on their end they shouldn't be held responsible for the actions of the other party. If the record keepers failed to follow up on their end it's on them. Still, this whole thing could've been expedited by asking for a receipt.
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Mar 28, 2019 07:05
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Trouble on the Rim, Book 2, Chapter 5 A Bounty of Vespids Huddik hills, The Krills, east of the City of Whale The Fifth of December, 347 A.R. Part 10: Zeal Calm. The unnatural stillness of absolute focus, as the warriors regain their bearings after the initial clash. Though visibility is rapidly declining, you can still see Royal, Vespid shapes through the growing mist. The Princess, backing up into her corner, contorting her body in a way impossible for even the most nimble of drow, focus clear in her features though her strategy alien, unfathomable. The Queen whom at the moment you regard as more inconvenient but expensive furniture than any real threat, undulating but unmoving. Does it comprehend the threat you pose? Has she even noticed? The Arch Beeshop to the other side, now clutching his curiously decorated pole in the manner of a veteran martial artist. In between them, keeping it's distance, the Beetlord. Dripping ichor, clearly wounded but somehow capable of ignoring the pain. Its beady yellow eyes never leaving you, glowing like embers over the background of midnight blue carapace. From behind you you hear your companions gathering up in a protective circle around the Alchemist, with Skvababt loosening a few arrows into something soft and crunchy. A hit? A sharp whistling follows, dopplering, khamis chains forming strange vorticies in the smoke all around you, whipping up a storm. Out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of Gwendolyn bent over the corpse of your former Vespid escort. The first wave of vespids hit you through the mist, like the sun breaking through a springtime rain. Stingerless drones divebomb your position in an attempt to knock you off balance, but with your small frame and solid gauntlets you stave them of for the moment. Khami catches two dive-drones in mid air and they go flying of to the sides in pieces. Skvababt loses her aim as they close on her, and she is forced to bat at them using her bow as a club, giving the guard outside the chamber the opportunity to vanish completely. By this point, the Arch Beeshop has reached the Beetlord. Putting one of its hands on a bulky shoulder, it's black and iris-less eyes utterly expressionless. There is a flash of cold pain from your left hand, as if you had just dipped it in the freezing river. You try to shake the numbness from it, but instead find your gaze transfixed to your palm. The pattern of lines that criss-crossing it, familiar-but-also-unfamiliar due to your recent merging with Kvelar, begins to shift, the blood beneath boiling up to the surface and coagulating instantly into thick, dark lines, forming an intricate design.  The darkness creeps up your brachial artery, disappearing under the fabric of your cloth and material of your armour, though you feel the chill spread further still. A second later, the pattern fades and the chill with it, replaced with an intense surge of adrenaline. You feel pumped. You feel angry. You feel watched. The details of the world are fuzzier, muted now. The problems of the world* mean little to you, a distant concern when compared to the glowing, pulsating sores in your field of vision that correspond to the forms of the Royal Vespid Troupe. Those problems are much more concerning. They threaten you, your family, your companions, your way of life. You bare your teeth, hissing at them, instinctively grasping your axe, waving it rhythmically in your right hand, ready to take on all comers. --- *Looking less desiccated by the minute, the Ghast Head Trophy has dropped to the floor. It continues billowing smoke from every scratch and pore. ---  1: You have four obvious targets. But which one is more pressing?  The death of the monarch will surely cause a route. . Fearsome rival. Slaughter it for Lolth! Foul Heresy! Bring it back alive. Heir Apparent? Bathe in the end of this particular bloodline. Stick to the plan! Do Something Else? If so, what?
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Apr 16, 2019 14:28
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Blood for the blood queen! Think we're going to need some divine backup on this one.
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Apr 16, 2019 15:02
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Apr 16, 2019 15:05
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though not because we suddenly need to swiftly smite the enemies of Lolth, but because we 'owe' Lolth for previous unpaid offering evaluations. Somewhat. Maybe not technically owed, but it couldn't hurt.
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Apr 16, 2019 15:18
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make them defend the future so we can steal the past
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Apr 16, 2019 15:37
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100%
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Apr 16, 2019 15:55
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Vote: Stick to the plan! For those voting , do you want us to wipe? Because the thread ends if we wipe.
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Apr 16, 2019 19:53
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CourValant posted:Vote: Yeah.
Dr Subterfuge fucked around with this message at 20:04 on Apr 16, 2019 |
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Apr 16, 2019 19:56
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CourValant posted:Vote: Protect beekeeper dude.
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Apr 17, 2019 03:34
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Kill the tough guy and the rest will fall in line. Lolth will aid us in doing her work if we prove worthy.
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Apr 17, 2019 03:41
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Sell the dead and cheat the living!
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Apr 17, 2019 05:38
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Do as the Huntress Bids us and grant her salvating request. The servants have the rest in hand.
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Apr 26, 2019 21:11
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Trouble on the Rim, Book 2, Chapter 5 A Bounty of Vespids Huddik hills, The Krills, east of the City of Whale The Fifth of December, 347 A.R. Part 11: Seal  Tick. Tock. Tension. Your heart throbs, your veins pulse. You see, if not red, then at least all the other shades of colour, muted. This time, you leap, leaving a hole in your defensive perimeter but catching the Vespid Royals offguard. Your axe slams down into a heavy chitinous shield and you feel something crack within. The creatures does a full body shiver and pulls the shell away, fresh gash adorning it like heraldry. The beeshop pushes away from you both, it's touch on the beetlord broken for now. As they step back and you ready for a follow up strike you can see the wound you inflicted previously to its stinger arm is more than halfway mended. If the knightly beetle warrior had a face with any sort of discernible features you are sure it would be grinning. As it is, all you sense from it is an acrid stench, all you see is the yellow of its eyes, smouldering like tiny embers in the remains of an abandoned campfire. With alacrity it lunges at you, wielding the stinger as a daring swashbuckler would a rapier, all finesse. A move that takes you by surprise considering the sheer size and weight of the blade. In the split second between strike and impact, as the tip sinks about an inch into your flesh clean through the interwoven straps of leather that should serve to protect you from harm, you theorize that the adaptability on display must be a perk of having the stinger-blade be attached to its body. A weapon as efficient as a limb, a superb advantage for any warrior. Blood pools in the corner of your mouth. You spit it out. The pain is nothing. You move to break the stinger with your bracer-clad forearm but you strike a thicker point than earlier, and the bug is ready for it this time. Still, it is forced to disengage lest it loose the blade entirely to such efforts on your part repeated. Off to the side, the Princess does something you have no words for. It moves, it dances, it stings your nostrils. It smells weird but you are hardly in a position to do anything about it. There is no effect that you can notice. Besides being answered by two arrows whistling past you, of course. Courtesy of Skvababt. One arrow hits a wing and pierces it, the other goes wide, leaving the Princess only a little worse for wear. Khami stumbles in his swinging, letting a few more divedrones through to harass the alchemist, but Gwendolyn is there to knock them away before any real harm can be done. Heedless of risk, you chase after the knight, striking into its front carapace and cleaving through to reveal empty cavity beneath through the gap you rendered. Hollow, or just sparsely gutted? To many other humanoids, the blow should have been lethal, but Vespid anatomy is far more alien. For the slight, you are headbutted away upon which follows a trifecta of blows from the bladed arm, now stanced spearlike, upon your armour. You feel the heavy impacts rattling your ribs through your protective leather haubergeon, and hear the tanned and cured hides rip as the stinger is torn out, now freshly stained with a liquid you are pretty sure is supposed to stay inside of you. From behind you hear a new kerfuffle as Khami finds yet more foes to deal with. The latest addition far stronger than divedrones, it appears one of the Guards has reached your position, and things are getting serious. Skvababt spins around (the very picture of elegance) and unloads into the Guard, striking it in the thorax and abdomen. There is a twing♪ as the first arrow ricochets of off the silvery material covering its upper body and a squelch! as the other buries itself in flesh. The guard swings its polearm against Khami, who barley manages to dodge it, sacrificing the rest of his momentum to do so. Unable to gather the the kinetics required for a return-strike with his chain, he instead kicks at the guard to very little effect.  More divedrones appear through the fog, bumbling into you from all sides. You swing at them and manage to land a killing blow, but the others continue pushing you around, giving the Beetlord the advantage. It brings the stinger up as an axe this time, and swings for your torso. You again bring up your waspable gauntlets in an attempt to parry, but the Beetlord is wise to your tricks and has angled its arc, meaning the strike is reflected to your upper arm rather than deflected entirely. Another deep cut into the leather, again drawing blood. You attempt to counter, but one of the divedrones takes the fall in its master stead, throwing itself into the way of your axe. The beeshop sweeps his staff low in an attempt to push you prone, but your low centre of gravity and keen senses make sure its efforts are futile. The princess keeps doing her thing. Well, as long as she isn't actively engaging you, you suppose it could be worse. You hear a 'tunk' of metal upon dirt behind you and the catch and release of more arrows, but by this point the fog from your Ghast-Head has obscured nearly everything. There is another lull in the battle at the Beetlord retreats back to its Queen, divedrones running interference. The Beeshop likewise dances away into the background. 1: Cant be long now before the alchemist finishes, but none of you are out-of-danger. Khami is again fighting in close quarters, Skvabat is mostly shooting on instinct and sound and Gwendolyn is on the ground somewhere. You have taken a series of injuries that you do not have time to assess, and your foes are fighting defensively. What is your priority? Go for the Beetlord. Don't let up until it is dead or disabled. Go help Khami. The Princess is doing something weird. Stop her. The Beeshop is still conscious. Deal with this affront to Lolth personally. Fully abandon your position and attack recklessly. Stick with the plan.
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Apr 30, 2019 08:48
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Our Queen Commands
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Apr 30, 2019 12:32
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... also yell to Skvabat to put an arrow in the princess. Cornuto fucked around with this message at 15:13 on Apr 30, 2019 |
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Apr 30, 2019 12:40
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Destroy the enemy! Destroy them for Lolth!... And mutter a hasty request for Lolth to give the kid a bit of protection from the bee-swarm. Safe kid, easier to focus on paying our debt to Lolth.
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Apr 30, 2019 14:43
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Cornuto posted:
Yep. Once the alchemist is done we can go offensive.
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Apr 30, 2019 16:21
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The Princess may be countering the smoke, which is the only thing that's going to save us from being overrun.
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Apr 30, 2019 16:52
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The Princess is doing something unknown. I hate unknowns.
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Apr 30, 2019 17:11
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