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 Stathis Argyle Not pictured, the spider parts of Stathis. They're there. The rain was coming down like someone upstairs was trying to wash away a mess, torrents of liquid regret trying to scrub out the stains of past mistakes. The kind of weather where you just want to stay inside and drink. I reached for the bottle of courage I kept in my desk and found out I had needed an awful lot of courage earlier. It was then, while I was ruminating on my need for more of that fortifying brew, that my office door swung open and I knew with one look she was trouble. Most would say it's the one in low cut dresses with legs that go on forever that bring the most trouble, but I know that's a lie. Trouble comes in all kinds of shapes and sizes, and what opened my door that dreary night was trouble the size of a drunken braggart's tall tale. "Stathis! Where the hell's the rent?" I gave a flash of my winning smile and a half hearted shrug, knowing full well the sisyphean task I was undertaking. "Well Ellen, work has been as dry as the day's been wet." She shook her head and wagged her finger, her mind already set on what was happening here tonight. "Don't try it Stathis, I want my money, not your excuses. It's already been a month since you last paid and I'm not gonna give you any more extensions." "Look, Ellen, they're not excuses. But you're right." I reached into my desk once more, pulling out all I have left. Looks like a new bottle will have to wait. "Here. This is what I have now. I know it doesn't cover it all but, I just need a job to come in, or anything at this point. Something to make some money so I can pay you." She considers this. Rolls around the idea like a cat playing with a mouse, deciding if its hungry now or if it wants to have a bit more fun before finishing off the mouse. She looks at me with those piercing eyes and I give my best pathetic pleading look I can muster. She knows it's an act, that I'm stalling for time the best I can. She knows me as well, maybe better, then I know me. But it's that I bother to try is what cracks her resolve to throw me out into the pouring rain. "Fine, Stathis. But you look for work! If you can't find someone with a 'case' I've heard the Duke's paying out the nose to anyone who can find out what happened to Aqualantis, which sounds right up your alley of finding out who did what and all that." And with that hammer blow of a stay of execution, I had at least another week to find a job. pre:Stathis Argyle (Drider Playbook) Look: Sharp Eyes, Styled Hair, Leather Uniform, Lithe Body Str 9 | Dex 16(+2) | Con 12 | Int 8(-1) | Wis 13(+1) | Cha 18(+3) Damage: 1d8 | HP 18/18 | XP 6/10 | Level 4 Alignment: Neutral Defeat another in a noncombat contest of skill or strength Half Spider: Jumping Spider You can jump anywhere within Near range with ease. In addition, as long as there is room to leap around in, you can use Death From Above anywhere, at any time. Moves: Wall Walking: You can climb along solid walls and ceilings as quickly as you can walk or run, regardless of their texture or composition, as long as it can support your weight. You may carry someone with you while you are Wall Walking, but you cannot use your hands while you have a passenger. Death From Above When you drop down on an enemy from above, roll +DEX. On a 10+, choose three. On a 7-9, choose two: • Deal your damage with a Hand weapon • Kidnap them - you retreat to somewhere nearby, taking them with you • Your target doesn't notice you in time to make a move against you • No one else notices you dropping in, and your target doesn't make a sound No One Looks Up When you cling to a ceiling without talking, moving, or attacking, NPCs will never notice you, if you haven't been spotted already. If the ceiling is high enough that you're above their natural line of sight, they won't notice you even if you move. You can always ask the GM if you are above their line of sight before moving, and the GM will answer truthfully Black Magic(Cha) When you weave a spell to inflict pain, choose two tags from the list and roll +INT/CHA. If you do not pick any Range tags, the Range defaults to Hand. On a hit, deal 1d8 damage. On a 7-9, also choose 1: • You draw unwanted attention or put someone in a spot. • The GM removes a non-range tag of their choice, and you deal -1 damage. • The casting saps your energy. You take -1 ongoing to Black Magic until you have a few minutes to clear your head. Tags:Reach, Near, Debilitating (Half Damage), Elemental (Fire), Forceful, Piercing 1, Two Targets (-1 Damage) Level 2: Flaunt Superiority (Cha) +1 Dex When you insult and threaten an intelligent creature, roll +CHA. On a hit,they're angry at you and all their focus is on you. On a 10+, take +1 ongoing against them until they calm down. Level 3: Battle Mage +1 Cha Add the following tags to the Black Magic list: Close, Area (-2 Damage), Messy (+1d4 damage), Piercing 2. In addition, selecting a range tag for your Black Magic does not count as one of your two tag choices. Level 4: Spider Traits +1 Cha Gain another move from the Half-Spider list: Biting Spider You have a venomous bite. You can use your bite as a weapon with Hand range that deals half damage, but if it connects you fill the bite location with a localized paralyzing poison, which renders the bite location useless. Your venoms wear off after about a day. Bonds Gear Load: 3/6 Dungeon Rations (3/5 Uses 1 weight) Wicked Dagger (Hand 1 weight) Chitinous natural armor (1 Armor 0 weight) Invincible V.I.P. Pass (0 weight) Machine Pistol (close, reach, silenced, 1/3 ammo, 1 weight) ArkInBlack fucked around with this message at 12:59 on Feb 10, 2017 |
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Jan 17, 2016 05:39
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I'll take the case! Stathis is ready to investigate the crime of "who sunk an entire city" which of course will tie into his other ongoing case, as they tend to do.
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Mar 31, 2016 07:55
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quote:[16:39] <alumnus_ghost> DR if you spend time exploring and getting the lay of the town A post will happen Soon(TM), and I have some thoughts and wanted to hammer some stuff out before things get rolling. 1)should Stathis come in at a different level than when I first posted 2)more for the party let's hash out some bonds, I'm putting up the two I want for sure here -I think I'll have to kill Ramona one day, but not today. -01 doesn't think very highly of me. How foolish of them. thoughts and ideas for the rest, the final base bond for Drider is ______ impresses me, for a lesser creature.
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Apr 14, 2016 15:01
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Madi Keller, Golem Doctor(linked for statue nipple) The feverish eye-straining incandescence slowly began to fade, the circles and circles of runes slowly siphoning the energies into the focus. Slowly, the robed figure standing at the edge of the ritual circles draws a handkerchief from a pouch and wipes the sweat from his brow as he watches the circles arcane glow slowly leave the runes, flowing into the wooden humanoid figure before him, alighting the varied runes and lines painstakingly carved over almost every square inch of wood. Finally two blue embers begin to form within the eyeholes, becoming steady orbs of blue light. They dart around, taking in the room before focusing on the golem's creator standing before it, breath held. A single step forward. "Hello master, how is your health this day?" "Heh ha!" All his breath used in a single exclamation, the wizard raises his arms triumphant as finally, finally his labor bore fruit. Drawing himself up he looks at his creation "Golem, I feel fine. What is your diagnosis?" "Patient is exuberant, shows signs of strain, likely from performing the ritual finalizing my own creation. Might I recommend sitting down and drinking some water, sir?" Observant. No signs of complications in the movements of the golem. If it had even had a fifth of the knowledge the ritual should have imparted, Steele would certainly be humbled, his tin can automatons barely able to function without a real person carefully watching them for any sign of error or complication. ~~~One Month Later~~~ The confidant smile had never left his face since that night. How could it, with each passing day only reaffirming that the ritual had gone perfectly? Now here he sits across from his worthy adversary Steele. Here and now, surely, he would see the full breadth and power of the arcane arts. Perhaps even be delivered a blow so devastating he would seek apprenticeship. But for now there was only waiting for the verdict from Doctor McCoy on the golem's capabilities as a doctor. Ah, but to think of the bound devil and he will appear. Steele, in his pinstripe suit and an expectant look speaks first "Well, McCoy? Is Silverado's golem all he says it is?" "...More so, mister Steele." "What?" "Blasted thing caught me making more mistakes than I caught it. It's twice the doctor I am, more than capable at handling drat near any medical procedure known to exist, including diagnosing and differentiating magical from divine afflictions. I still can't grasp the difference myself and here it's doing it as casually as breathing!" Hands folded together, Steele thinks for a moment before asking "Surgery?" only to see McCoy nod yes. "Minimally-invasive surgery?" "Hell Steele, it can even do autopsies, something your auto-doctors can't manage. If it wasn't for your bet or rivalry you two have I wouldn't think twice of leaving it unattended to work, more than I can say for the autodoc." "Those quirks will be ironed out with time, doctor McCoy-" "The golem has them ironed out now Steele. It's even speaking less stilted and, well, robotic after the psychiatrist talked to it. I've since stopped getting complaints about it being unnerving from patients, even." Finally, Steele lets out a big sigh, unable to look at Silverado's smug grin. "Alright, Silverado. I'm big enough to admit when I've been beat. Your golem's beyond anything I can make." Steele makes eye contact with the wizard. Slowly and painfully, Steele says in a forced level voice "Magic can still outperform technology." "Really, mister Silverado, I'll-" Finally Silverado says his first words since the doctor entered "Magister Silverado, please." That earns an eyeroll from the doctor. "Magister Silverado, how long would it take you to make more golems? And how much?" And finally the wizard's smug grin is replaced by something else. "...Ah, come again?" "How quickly can I get even one more med-golem and for how much?" "...I, suppose I could, but I'd need to find a large enough non-aspected aetheric crystal to act as a core, acquire some more powdered dragonscale, that'll be a couple months if I could find someone willing to part with what they already have, likely longer. Then get into talks with the Dominion about acquiring more of their shaped wood-" finally he catches McCoy's eyes and the unblinking, expectant gaze. "Ten thousand gold and about a year?" At this Steele perks up. "Y'know Doc. I could have you an autodoc for half that in a month. And I'm sure the programmers will have the bugs worked out soon. Three months, tops. And warranty covers updating their software." The doctor glances to Steele and back to the wizard. "Well, if you get the materials together Magister, give me a call and we'll talk about it then." Silverado was left with his mouth agape as Steele shot him a wry smile. "Sorry Silverado, looks like there's something tech has over your magic still." ~~~Many Years Later, on the Raft~~~ "Doctor Keller, I've already said no for religious reasons. The scriptures say a person must be whole if they are to be accepted into the beyond. Transplants prevent salvation for two-" Both hands grip the footboard, the stiff expressionless metal face letting out a long sigh before facing the bedridden orc. "Well I'm a doctor, and we believe that without a transplant a patient in your condition can suffer from a sudden onset of death." Just then a nurse pokes her head into the room. "Uh, doctor Keller you have a phone call, line three." "...Rightio." Looking back to the orc the golem continues. "Miss Ryley, think about the transplant as a matter life or death. Specifically yours, because that's exactly what it is." As she walks back out of the room and to the nearby nurse station phone. "Doctor Keller speaking." "I heard you're looking for an escort to Aqualantis. Just so happens I'm looking for a healer to take to Aqualantis. Bring a resume and references to the Whole Horse Hotel if you're interested." And with a click the line went dead Shaking their head Keller looks to Angela "Apparently my job listing landed me an interview. Tell Doctor Johnsen to cover Miss Ryley and let Security know that if I don't get in touch by tonight to report me as a missing person." pre:Madi Keller (Medic Playbook) Look: Impatient Eyes, runic filigree, Sterile Gloves, Sarcastic Attitude Str 13(+1) | Dex 9 | Con 16(+2) | Int 18(+3) | Wis 8(-1) | Cha 12 Damage: 1d4 | HP 22/22 | XP 6/10 | Level 4 Alignment: Good Go to great lengths to aid or comfort the dying and infirm. Specialization: Mark of Healing Once per day, you may instantly and magically heal 5 HP of any living creature within Far range. Moves: First Aid: When you take a moment to see to someone's physical wounds, roll +INT. On a 10+ the patient may hold 3, on a 7-9 hold 1. The patient may spend hold to: • Recover d8 HP (1 hold) • Be cured of one know poison or disease (2 hold) • Remove one debility (3 hold) General Practitioner You always count as a healer for the Recover move, even for yourself, and you take +1 to Spout Lore when diagnosing diseases. Not On My Watch! When a nearby ally with whom you share a bond takes his Last Breath and you are able to administer emergency medical attention, they can reroll one d6 and must use the new total. First Do No Harm You have taken a professional oath. As long as you have not injured a living creature through intent or negligence, your professionalism gives you +1 ongoing to all Defend, Defy Danger, Parley, and Aid or Interfere actions. If you injure a living creature, you take -1 ongoing to all rolls until you have reaffirmed your commitment to your oath. Level 2: Bedside Manner +1 Con You always have leverage to Parley with anyone under your medical care, and may use +INT for the roll. Level 3: Worldly +1 Int Gain a move from a playbook none of the other players are currently using. -Logical:When you use strict deduction to analyze your surroundings, you can discern realities with INT instead of WIS. Level 4: General Anesthesia +1 Int Oil of Tagit loses the Dangerous tag in your hands. When you have time to gather materials and a safe place to brew, gain 3-doses of Oil of Tagit and a syringe. When you would normally deal damage with a syringe, instead apply one dose of any Applied poison or potion you possess. Bonds • Patient Serenity Greymist is suffering from a serious chronic condition, but doesn't know it yet. • Patient Nori Maki has proven an able assistant; I will teach them what I know about medicine. • Patient Ramona de Sahagún is not nearly as sick as they think they are. Gear Load: 5/8 Dungeon Rations (5/5 Uses, 1 weight) Bonesaw (Hand, Messy, 1 weight) Leather Armor (1 Armor, 1 weight) Bandages (2/3 uses, Slow, 0 weight) Oil of Tagit x3 (Applied, Dangerous, 0 weight) Syringe (Hand, no damage, 0 weight) ESCO riot shield (+1 armor, 2-weight) [Gains the clumsy tag when underwater.] ArkInBlack fucked around with this message at 10:37 on Aug 27, 2017 |
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Feb 12, 2017 21:49
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Because I'm fickle as hell here comes yet another character ~~~  Branwen McAlister, Battle Sister of Bombarda In Armor "Soup's on!" Branwen calls back as she ladles some into a bowl. As she moves towards the table she calls out "Ma!", looking to the front door. When there's no replay she sighs as she sets down the bowl on the table and moves to the front door when suddenly the sharp crack of wood and a scream pierce the quiet. Now with an edge of panic Branwen calls out "Ma!" again. Bursting through the door the front patio's broken railing telling the entire story. Without stopping Branwen leaps off the side of the raised deck and into the swamp water below her mother's home. But the expected resistance of the slick muck failed to appear and Branwen sinks, or perhaps more accurately fall into inky blackness. She flails trying to do anything to slow her descent, before finally she grabs at her holy symbol, pulling it to her chest. After a moment a metallic tink echoes through the pitch black, followed by an explosion of light and warmth, banishing the unwholesome blackness surrounding Branwen to reveal the impossible. She falls towards a city extending past the horizon, tendrils of the same putrid black foulness that had enveloped her snaking through the streets and choking every building. As she looks up Branwen sees roiling clouds swaying and rolling as the surface of the ocean. More worrying were other figures in the distance, falling towards the tainted city dominating the landscape. And then the sirens start. Low at first, but growing louder and louder. Matching the growing noise a mass of the foul tendrils rise up in a singular mass in the shape of a head as an inhuman howl bursts forth from it. Just as suddenly, a skyscraper topples over, crashing into the rotting black skull scattering its form to the nearby buildings and throwing up rolling clouds of dust. Branwen's breath catches, the towering humanoid's presence instilling a sense of dread more potent than anything previous. Suddenly lashing tendrils erupt from the dust towards the figure as the reformed mass lurches up from the ground. In response the figure draws back, dragging the mass towards it before lunging forward and suddenly, a towering building breaks Branwens view of the fight between monsters and she looks down, the cracked stone and writhing tendrils of the city's streets rapidly rising to meet her, the sirens wailing drowning out all noise, all thought as Branwen falls out of control to her death. Branwen opens her eyes, breath catching as the sight of the plane's cargo bay greets her, the red lights and short siren alerting the squad of Battle Clerics. That nightmare again. "One minute to drop!" the airwoman shouts over the planes engines. Each squad member stands, checking one another's gear before the jump. "Are you well, Sister Branwen?" Only McKinnin would fret so, Branwen can feel his gaze from across the bay. Wouldn't do to appear shaky before the mission, she had to shrug it off. "Just impatient, Brother Superior. Nearly nodded off waiting." A few chuckles from the rest of the squad as Branwen goes over the briefing again to clear the last remnants of the nightmare from her mind. ~~~ High Chapel of the Bomb, an hour earlier ~~~ The deacon entering the room silences the members of Order of Smoke and Ash; Fourth Squad's quiet murmuring, each bowing to the deacon who returns the gesture and begins. "At ease. As you are likely aware, three days ago at oh six thirty the acolytes of the Chapel of the Lady's Atoll received communication through their sonar equipment. This communication was from the Triton clans, who had united and were declaring war upon the nation of Aqualantis. The call was made by the College of Bishops to send envoys in an attempt to lend our aid to their cause, that we might give worthy worship to Our Heavenly Lady and find a more welcoming place within the City-State going forward. Two days ago the envoys met with and negotiated passage with the Triton Clans and submerged at twelve fifteen, heading towards the sunken city. There has been no contact since." At this the assembled shift and murmur before the deacon continues. "The Tritons claim to have no knowledge of what happened to the envoys, or whether or not they had even arrived at the city. It has been decided that the Church will not be intervening on Aqualantis' behalf in this war, but we will see our own home safely. As I speak our forces are marshaling at the Chapel of the Lady's Atoll and will engage in skirmishes along their lines. This is intended to draw their attention as Fourth Squad approaches Aqualantis from the west and investigate what happened to our missing envoys. Brother Superior McKinnin, this folder here has all pertinent information on this operation. The floor is yours." ~~~ Outskirts of Aqualantis; Sea Floor ~~~ The muffled hiss of speargun fire breaks the water around Fourth Squad, broken by the war cries of tritons as they circle and close. "Think ya pissed 'em off there McAlister." "If the eejit didn't expect me choosing a hand grenade he shouldn've challenged me." "Clear coms! Two riders, ten o'clock and closing." Branwen raises her gun and fires into the charging hippocampi-mounted tritons, spearing one in the shoulder. His fellow, roaring furiously at the wounding of his ally, tries to skewer Branwen who narrowly manages to dodge the forked head of the trident. However she doesn't manage to get out of the way of the mount fully which plows into her and drags her off with it, her speargun falling to the seabed. The rider brings his trident to bear once more, his first stab glancing off the metal of Branwen's armor, the second is caught by her gauntleted fist. Dragging herself up the length of the trident she punches at the triton in the chest, who shoves back with the haft of his weapon, shoving Branwen free of him and his mount. Branwen, for her part, points at the rider earning a glare and another war shout. As he grabs the hippocampus' reins, he spots a grenade attached to his chest. The dull thump of the triton's messy exit from life is felt by Branwen as she lands and stumbles on the seabed. Recovering, she looks around before her eyes fall on an opening on the wall of metal nearby. An open airlock door, on the dome of Aqualantis! "McKinnin, I've found an entrance to the city." As she starts to report her radio crackles to life, hearing half static and half "Enemy reinforcements, two o'clock high!" "Brother, I am pinned here!" The voice of Brother Smith cuts in. Headstrong as always, let himself overextend into a bad position again. "Smith-" The static rises, drowning out McKinnin. "-Copy McAlister, we-" another burst of hissing static "-Provide covering from your position." Branwen swears under her breath, must barely be in functioning range for the radios. drat salt water makes them barely better then just shouting, water be damned. And of course her speargun was nowhere to be seen. Squad would be dead by the time she'd find it... "Negative McKinnin, I'm empty here." "drat-" The hiss is starting to get to her, seemingly choosing the worst times to drown out the voice of the Brother Superior. "-Alister, get in that city. Find our people and get them out. The rest-you form up on me." She was torn. She could try and find an angle, call upon Bombarda's grace once more, divide the tritons attention and get the rest of the squad in... But she didn't know how many there were, and would be isolated and easy pickings for any riders she didn't see coming. "If you die I'm kickin' yer rear end McKinnin." And with that Branwen lumbers over to the airlock, leaving her squad to distract the tritons as she enters the city. pre:Battle Sister Branwen McAlister (Cleric) Look: Sharp Eyes, Common Garb, Toned Body Str 16(+2) | Dex 16(+2) | Con 12 | Int 8(-1) | Wis 16(+2) | Cha 9 Damage: d6 | HP 20/20 | XP 2/12 | Level 5 Alignment: Lawful Endanger yourself following the precepts of your church or god. Race: Human Your faith is diverse. Choose one wizard spell. You can cast and be granted that spell as if it was a cleric spell. Spell Chosen:Fireball Moves: Turn Undead When you hold your holy symbol aloft and call on your deity for protection, roll+Wis. ✴On a 7+, so long as you continue to pray and brandish your holy symbol, no undead may come within reach of you. ✴On a 10+, you also momentarily daze intelligent undead and cause mindless undead to flee. Aggression breaks the effects and they are able to act as normal. Intelligent undead may still find ways to harry you from afar. They’re clever like that. Deity: You serve and worship some deity or power which grants you spells. Give your god a name (Bombarda, Goddess of Explosions) and choose your deity’s domain: • ArkInBlack fucked around with this message at 11:55 on Dec 13, 2017 |
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Aug 13, 2017 05:47
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