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Wind whips over dusty ruins, creating great swirling storms of debris. The shadows of cities long dead cast their baleful gaze onto the devastated land. The Empire is dead and a thousand divine scavengers flock to its corpse. Welcome to the Fallen Empire. Claire the Sage Your temple is situated at the top of a small hill, the most defensible position for miles. However your Lightbringers huddle around small campfires in the empty great halls, most of the large building ruined and slowly decaying. Your people are hungry too, the stockpiles have run out and scavenging the nearby ruins can only get you so much. Grand Moff Slam Hardacre The Gnomes of your tribe struggle to survive in the great forests. Most of the trees are petrified pillars, offering little in the way of food or shelter. Human brigands have been seen on the edges of your lands, seemingly peaceful but who knows with humans. Worst of all strange beasts have been spotted near the heart of the forest, great monsters with mouths full of needle sharp teeth that seem to distort reality itself. Sahvonne, Mother of Darkness Your Cult strikes out across the empty wastes, fleeing their former stronghold. A horde of twisted creatures was birthed from one of the great cities and fell upon the countryside, burning everything in its path. Even with your might you were not able to stand up to them. Now your Cult huddles in a small valley, momentary sanctuary from the winds. Saint Ozma The Shar grow restless in their warcamps, unsure of the strange man-thing among them. Normally they would have taken or eaten you long ago, but you hold a strange power over them. The Chieftain calls you his "Bright Daughter" and calls upon you to help with his every decision. Right now the Shar are at an impasse. Food is running low and the warriors wish to fight, but they're not sure if you would appreciate their raids. The Chief has called you up to him to hear your advice. Kyris The Relv wander aimlessly in the shifting sands of the east, feet dragging in the dirt as they search for something. Occasionally one falls face down, the march halting for a second to check him and help him up if he still lives. They look to you, Solider's Bastion, to help them in this arid place. ~M The Carnival pulls itself out of its hiding places to look at the destroyed wagons. A horror with too many limbs and breath like fire had attacked them while they were unaware. Most had managed to hide but the wagons and supplies had been destroyed. Now they're stranded in the ruins of a small hamlet, deep in Shar terrority. Tarvan The Free While other races would struggle to even last a day in the underbelly of the Spire Citie's, but the Canix thrive. Deep in the dark they wind their way down passageways unused even when the Emperor still lived making nests in maintenance closets and ventilation shafts. All good things end though, a abomination has been seen in the depths, a great thing of some liquid that engulfs entire nests whole. Food is becoming a problem too, the underbelly is full of magitech but little in the way of edibles and fresh water. Cin-sae Your Supplicants lurk on the outskirts of one of the great graveyards of the Empire. Once a stately place it has fallen into disrepair, giving the dead an undignified resting place. Your Supplicants would like nothing more than to give the dead the honor they deserve, but deep in the graveyard a tall mausoleum stands. From it pours hordes of twisted bodies, creatures distorted by Mana. Evidently a Necromancer once held court here, ad with the Emperor's death his spells failed and let raw Mana into the world. Z'kt! The Vespid cling to the rock canyons, driving back the most implacable foe: thirst. The ancient cisterns that watered their lands for millions of years have run dry, cut off by some shifting in the very earth itself. Now most of the great Hives lie dead, killed either by flesh things or lack of basic resources. Your group clings to life in a small outpost, most only keeping on through the knowledge that they may be the only hope for their race.
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Feb 15, 2016 18:23
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Z'kt! - Arid Canyon The harsh sun glittered across the gleaming carapace of the Vespid God. Staring out across the wastes, it sat in rumination over the problem the Nest now faced. Water. The Nest had need. Without it, all was lost. A Source must be found. People must be sent to search for signs of life. But in the meantime, Z'kt! would focus on a more immediate solution; a stop-gap for these uncertain times. Collecting a clawful of hardy grass seeds, it poured its power into them; like everything else, they would be given purpose. They would serve the Nest. Using Plant [+2] to create and rapidly grow a new form of cactus that will collect and store water from the air. If possible, also sending out scouts to search for any sign of water sources. Rhjamiz fucked around with this message at 03:34 on Feb 18, 2016 |
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Feb 15, 2016 19:16
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Grand Moff Slam Hardacre - Überwald Forest In a not so distant place, inside the stump of a great fallen tree, sat a bunch of gnomes around a map drawn on what used to be a piece of the famous tapestry of some battle long ago. Well you make do with what you can grab and you don't think about it when you are making a spirited effort to get as far away from a place as possible. There was a large gnome, he had a spiffy hat on, this was Slam Hardacre "Alrrright yer wee buggers" He declared, "I am calling the first council of war- Yes what is it Flem!" "Is this really a council of war your Moffship, we aren't actually at war with anyone are we not?" Said a rather peevish Councillor to his left, this one had been a refugee from the city, made his home in a bank vault and counted pennies for a living. "We're at war with bloody every one Councillor Littlefoot, or have you not noticed the END OF THE WORLD that has just happened around us." "But no one has actually declared war on us, per-say your Moffship we jus-" "Alright alright fine! Have it your way" Slam sighed, he had the elders of the White Foot clan here in front of him, people who he assumed were appointed there because they were intelligent and made good decisions. But now it seems what they were really good at was debating, reconsidering and re-debating a subject until 2+2 ended up as 4 and a bit. Changes would be made, but right now this was the best he had. "I call the first council of 'Continuous Unfortunate and Negative Things' open." He looked around for objections, there were none. He looked at the items on his list and decided how they might be solved. pre:1. This forest is bloody empty and there's nothing living in it any more 2. 'Bloody bigjobs A nervy Councillor that had been in charge of the collecting stuff committee flinched at the sudden mention of his name. "There is, uhm there-there is... Not a great deal actually your Moffship." "Nothin'? Can we use the wood?" Asked Slam "It either won't take our axes or it crumbles to bits when we try to use it." "Can we grow mushrooms on them?" Said Slam, with an increasing amount of hopefulness in his voice "They won't take to them sir." "Is the soil any good? At all?" He pleaded with a sigh. "Barely usable sir." Moff stood in strangulated silence as he let this problem sit in. If only there was someway he could directly manipulate something so that they might be able to grow some usable things! And then he remembered, he did have something like that. Moff clapped his hands together, green sparks emitted from them. "Well then we just have to make do with what we gots don't we? Now if I remember correctly there was a tree over there..." --- Before we do anything else we need a base! There is a little way away from here a big tree, it's leaves are mostly gone and it's already dead, but what is a dead tree to a god, especially a god with [+2] Nature to hand, they just have to bring it back. And possibly with some encouraging we can grow it into a shape, that would allow us to easily set up a sort of forward base whilst we plan our next move. In short let's grow a tree house where we can use it as a forward operating point. And just to make sure it won't get bowled over when the next storm rolls by, we'll be riveting it the tree itself and shoring up weakpoints. We have some bits of old metal taken from a destroyed cart a while back, we'll be shaping it with hammers and reinforcing our treehouse ([+2] Artifice makes this a little easier). Let's build a house! TheNabster fucked around with this message at 21:52 on Feb 15, 2016 |
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Feb 15, 2016 21:32
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Kyris Kyris looks over the Relv, they are wretched and weak, barely surviving in the harsh desert, the wages of the weakness their old lives encouraged. He sees them look to him, look for salvation. Well if they wanted to be saved, it was time they begin to change. So Kyris signals to them to stop and gather. He stands head and shoulders taller them them, his hardened muscular form everything they are not. When he speaks his voice is deep and booming, "It is time. Time for you to take the first real steps into your new lives, your first real steps to becoming the Relv. In order to do so, you must first cast off your old lives, your old weaknesses. So those of you that wish to become step forward, publicly cast aside your old lives and your old names, become my children and I will make you strong." He was true to his work, for any who would step forward, who would chose to pledge themselves to him and his teachings and be reborn he would grant them great strength. His power would flow freely through them, their bodies would fill out with muscle, their skin would toughen, they would become hardier able to survive on a fraction of the food and water they now required. They would be able to march for hours upon end, and then break whomever and whatever they found even when they were on the edge of starvation. It was the first change of many to come, the first step in reforging these weaklings into warriors, survivors. Using Strength[+2] to improve any of the Relv who agree to Kyris' conditions. Making them stronger and more muscular, but also far hardier so they can take a beating as well as survive on a small fraction of the food and water they currently need.
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Feb 15, 2016 21:46
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Cin-sae, Graveyard Cin-sae approached one of the distorted creatures, grabbing its head in a soft embrace and speaking in a soothing, angelic voice. "Shush now, there, there. I can see your suffering. It pains me so much. Poor, poor thing. Calm down now. Go into the peaceful darkness. I love you." With a soft whisper, Cin-sae quickly let it go, and started singing a beautiful song, a musical embrace for the pained, warped ones, a warm blanket of voice that would restore their proper death, make their agony cease. Singing a Lullaby of Eternal Sleep for these poor creatures with Death +2 to restore the proper cycle of death or cause it as necessary, and Sound +2 to carry it in a nice song. It would be nice if they died painlessly as if they went to sleep but if it ends up being a hellish shriek that makes their heads blow up that's also fine.
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Feb 16, 2016 00:06
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Ozma It was difficult to agree with the chieftain. The land was unpredictable, and Ozma knew little of the threats that lurked out there; be they man or beast or other. Yet they had to eat. The young especially were growing weak from hunger. Shar custom held that the males and warriors ate first, and they rarely left anything but the barest scraps for the rest. Her own protests had fallen on deaf ears, or been acknowledged only with the terse suggestion that she perform a miracle for them to alleviate the concern. She sat beside the chieftain, head bowed as she thought the matter over, turning a small talisman over in her hands. She could feel the stares of his mates from afar, the slowly building resentment towards her for taking up his attention so often these days. She was not one of them, and their lifestyle permitted no concept of altruism or benevolence without payment. To their eyes, she was a threat. No matter. She would shoulder that burden and prove her intentions. So long as she could aid them in surviving she would accept their scorn with a glad heart. The talisman she held would hopefully aid in overcoming that problem, however. It had, until the day previously, belonged to one of the women of the tribe. It was a small finger of ironwood, delicately carved and wrapped in thin leather strips. Teeth and long, brightly colored feathers adorned it, with a small chunk of rough amethyst affixed to one end. The chieftain had caught Ozma eyeing it, and assumed she coveted the thing. He had summarily declared it to be hers, and his demeanor brooked no argument from anyone present. It was an unfortunate situation all around. Thankfully he had lost all interest in the matter not long afterwards, and so Ozma would return it to the rightful owner. With a bit of magic worked in by way of apology. At last, she glanced up. "M'lord. The warriors are right. You must send out hunting parties to find game, or at least their spoor. We must also learn what threats lurk, and where suitable shelter can be found. This Calm will not last. I beg you, though. Should other peoples be found, let them be, or permit me to speak with them. We are all trying to survive in this world and too many have died already." Her voice was quiet, but firm. She had an idea just how far she could push the chieftain before he became irritated, and she also knew that hesitation or indecision would almost certainly cause him to dismiss her words out of hand. So she would stand her ground, politely. "I could accompany one of the bands if you wish. Lend what small aid I can to the effort." Healing +2 to work her healing magics into the talisman, warding its bearer against sickness. Shardix fucked around with this message at 19:23 on Feb 16, 2016 |
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Feb 16, 2016 01:30
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Claire - The Sage - Temple of Lights Innumerable Reascending the many, many steps up the tower towards her study - her Lightbringers had insisted on giving her the tallest of them to honor her - Claire was almost grateful for the ridiculous number of floors she had to walk up and down every time she needed to access her study. It gave her an opportunity to think on things for a while, and she certainly had enough to think about, but it was an awful lot of work nonetheless. Still, her new clerics had just been trying to be nice to her... she didn't have the heart to move her personal library to somewhere more practical, in case it might make them think she hadn't appreciated the gesture. Speaking of her clerics, she'd just been down to visit with them in the main hall. The poor dears, hungry and cold, in a temple falling to ruins. She felt so incredibly at fault for their condition - they'd renamed this place the Temple of Lights Innumerable for her, and look at them now. Shepards without a flock, with a crumbling roof over their heads, and barely a scrap of bread to be shared between them. No, no this wouldn't do at all. They were relying on her - it was time for her to hold up her end of this Divinity thing. A Goddess should provide miracles for her faithful. Halfway up the steps now. "Food first then?" She mutters to herself, having found it helps her think sometimes. "But this place is safe, I don't want to send any of them out into the cold..." For a moment she considers making magic lanterns for all of them to make the job of hunting for food easier, but dismisses the notion. Too impractical, and there were other dangers than the cold lurking out in the darkness. "But if I can't, then... hmm..." Perhaps she could create a great light within the temple, suffuse it with magic to sustain the spell, use it to strip away weariness and worry? "The last thing we need to be doing now is relaxing, though, even if they deserve to. Ugh, what do to?" Deep in thought for a while, she's almost to the top when the lightbulb goes off. "Eureka!" Snapping her fingers, the now quite cheerful Claire practically races to the top of the tower, arriving in her study with a triumphant grin on her face. If she couldn't send her followers out to gather food and attract new worshipers, well, she'd just have to bring the worshipers and food here! Searching through her library for a particular tome, the Goddess gets to reviewing the spell she had in mind. It was more or less the magical equivalent of creating a lighthouse, or beacon, and she'd honestly wanted to try it out for a while. Concentrating deeply, focusing her power and will on the task at hand, letting her light intermingle with the air while she chants the incantation carefully, Claire was going to create a Shining Temple Upon a Hill. Using Light [+2] and Magic [+2] to try and transform the tallest tower of the temple into a magical beacon. Basically trying to turn the porch light on, see if I can't get some merchants / travelers / other wayward souls to start heading towards the Temple. Maybe they'll even have food. Light covers the appearance and welcoming aspects of the effect, Magic to make it visible in the day and as a power source.
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Feb 16, 2016 03:38
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Sahvonne, Mother of Monsters - Wasteland Valley In those days, Sahvonne's worship was restricted to a handful of harried cultists, half mad from persecution even before their Mother's arrival within the world. They had followed the Beautiful out of their stronghold, for while she was all that was resplendent and good, her might had been winnowed by the long eons spent in exile, and she could protect them not from the strange creatures that breathed flame that had besieged them there. The Mother knew that for her people to live, they would need to learn the lessons that the unforgiving wilderness could teach them, but she was not without love for her children. So she bid them rest within a valley to find succor from the wind. The ground there was barren and without water or vegetation that her children could eat, but pain and treachery had taught Sahvonne that one could survive on less than even the dust of the ground upon which she and her followers stood. While her powers were as of yet a fraction of what they once were, she gave life at a whim, and so, she deigned to stoop and, plunging her fingers into the soil, brought forth a great many things that crawled blindly. Each was the size of a strong man's thumb, and though they were covered in haphazard spines and uselessly thrashed upon the ground, Sahvonne picked one up and, ignoring the pain of the thorns, brought it to the mouth of one of her supplicants. "Eat." She commanded. "Eat and live." The supplicant did so, and while the grubs' spines hurt, the man was relieved to find that after just one grub, his belly was full and his thirst quenched. "The blessings of the Mother are innumerable!" He proclaimed from broken lips, and offered a grub to another. Soon, her followers will full, and strong enough to continue. The blood they spilled was the first lesson of the day - by accepting pain, one may be succored. While her followers ate their fill, Sahvonne had examined the valley. She returned to her people when their meal had finished. "We must find you shelter before long." She said, and pointed at the wastes. "There is stone enough to build a shelter. Place it in the shadow of the overhang, and I will conceal it from those who seek to harm you." So it was that the grubs provided another lesson: in a blanket of shadows and earth, one is safe from those who seek you harm. Going to use Fertility +2 to make sure that the Cult is properly fed (in a gruesome manner, of course) and then Darkness +2 to hide the camp she's ordered them to construct in a pall of shadow.
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Feb 16, 2016 06:13
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~M - Hamlet Ruins M looked at the savaged wreck of what remained after the beast's rampage. "Woof, that may be a new standard for a hostile audience. Everyone still here?" She looked around as dozens of creatures, great and small, slithered and reformed out of the cracks. Some preferring a human form, some something more animalistic, and a few nothing recognizable at all came forth and looked onward expectantly. M brushed aside a few accusatory jeers, chirps and caws and dusted off their goofy, overdone hat. "In your typical tale, what's rarely covered is how the characters have dinner. Presumably at some point they eat, but that's usually glossed over unless someone's getting poisoned or people bust in and stab the diners or another interesting thing happens. The food is found as a function of something else, a prelude to a set piece, digging too deep and too greedily, etc. What I'm saying is, we need to do something to find what we need, and we need to move quickly. Get what you can up and running and forage through the hamlet, myself and...you, you, you, and the tentacle snake guy, no no, the purple one, you're with me. We need to do the first type of tale to ensure we ever get to play a part in one of the second ever again. Stars above, we might even need to ah, make acquaintances with those wolf-bull-bear-things that are running around. The show must go on." Using [Athletics+2] to scour/scout the countryside quickly while using [Storytelling+2] to try to find supplies and food in the places where it would make the most narrative, if not logical, sense. ("Hey, this abandoned cave seems like a perfect place to store a chest of X") Ronwayne fucked around with this message at 04:24 on Feb 17, 2016 |
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Feb 16, 2016 16:30
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Tarvan the Free The power to call storms was curtailed in underground warrens. In large enough caverns atmospheric pressure and disturbances were possible, but the space required for this would have been huge. Larger than a city. These shafts and tunnels could not possibly support that. But that did not mean that storms and calling water could not save them, it just meant that it would be more involved. Care needed to be taken such that drainage from the surface could reach down. He gathered together several of the canix to him with instructions. While they had their own names and tongue, which he knew and had learned, Tarvan had given simpler names based on personality or appearance for the notable Canix in his mind (and to make my and your life easier, Mcclay!) Skitter was a smaller canix who could fit through narrower and smaller shafts and gaps. She was quick on her feet and alert. While she was not without fear, she was also currently not without thirst and quite happy to go crawling if it might lead to getting more to drink. (Just assume that when Tarvan speaks to any of the Canix, he's using their proper names and not his mental nicknames) "Skitter, the tribe grows thirsty and while I can call down water from the heavens this is not helpful when we cannot see the heavens. I need you to go forth and explore, to see if you can find connecting shafts or tunnels that lead to a passage to the surface. If so, we can gather water at a point near to us. There are ways to clean dirty water so that it is clean to drink. Even if you can drink muddy water without getting as sick as other peoples, the Canix also deserve clean water. I will give you a sense of the way the builders of this place thought, so you can better find the right passages and shafts, if they exist." Then he touched the small canix on the head and gave her knowledge. Not discrete facts and theory, but a general design sense and an intuitive idea of when she would be on the right and wrong tracks. Her pup, a small mottled Canix named Peeper to Tarvan for his feeble voice looked concerned. But Tarvan had a task for him as well. "Peeper, go fetch me Legs, Jumper and Bullseye and tell them I need to speak to them." Using Building [+2] to give Skitter a general and intuitive construction sense for drainage and piping. If we're deep underground in warrens, tunnels and maintenance access, then surely there should be even a crude drainage system in place so water does not pool in one place and flood regions. That's what Tarvan is thinking and banking on.
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Feb 17, 2016 03:31
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Year 1, Month 1 AEF Months of Calm: 3 Vespid Scouts: 2 turns remaining Temple of Lights Innumerable Beacon Z'kt! The Nest buzzes with activity as it gains a task for the first time in years. Scouts fly out from the Nest everyday, sweeping over the rocky canyons and defiles for any source of water. They expect to be back in two months, just before the next Storm is supposed to hit. For the cactus things don't come so easily. The resulting creation does indeed collect and store water from the air quite effectively, perhaps too effectively. While it grows quickly it is not fast to reproduce, instead taking many weeks to even start on seedlings. They are huge, bloated things, more like the great trees of Überwald than any desert plant. Near success: The cactus catch and draw in the water but reproduce extrmely slowly. On top of that they are huge plants, more like the redwoods of our world than anything else. The Scouts will be back in two turns. Grand Moff Slam Hardacre A patch of green bursts too life in the Überwald, standing out from the sea of grey and black around it. The tree grows strong and healthy with Hardacre's magic, branches sprouting leaves and flowers. Its trunk shifts and shapes at his command, bulging out in little hollows inside. The White Foot quickly colonize those empty spaces, building homes and storage rooms deep inside. As burrows are being constructed inside a team of artisans under the Grand Moff's careful eye rivet the old metal to the trees roots, sinking spikes deep into the infertile earth to prevent Storm from taking this home. Theres even enough left over to shore up the main structure, allowing for recessed view areas to be built. Success: The tree is fully alive and the gnomes are moving inside of it. Thanks to the metal its unlikely to blow away in a storm, and theres enough for view ports. Kyris The Relv stare up at Kyris, gripped with terror. The twin fears of death and the unknown battled within them, keeping them locked in place. Finally a young man, barely an adult, steps forwards. "I am called Franz and I, for one, am tired of dying in this desert. Change me, make me strong. I will not fall now, not until I see my home. The Warrior God reaches out and touches Franz, letting his divine Strength flow into the boy. When the changes are done something almost inhuman steps away. Taller than any man, arms capable of ripping an armored man limb from limb, eyes like shining diamonds and the ability to exert himself to feats no human could ever achieve. This was a totally new creature, no longer a simple human being. The Relv crowd in afterwards, each accepting Kyris's gift to be turned into something greater than human. Great Success: You've created a new race of incredibly strong and tall humanoids. Cin-Sae A haunting song wafts across the graveyard, soothing the waking sleepers back to their dreams. The twisted creatures slowly stop their shambling, sinking down to rest on marble slabs and the hallowed ground. Soon the only thing breaking the peaceful oblivion are the noises coming from the central mausoleum were the screams of the true monsters lying within. Pure, unfiltered Mana flowed from it, twisting the very landscape, creating warped hills, mazes of graves and open crypts that lead down through unending staircases.  The woken dead have been put to rest. Only the mausoleum remains, and its full of spooky funtimesOzma The Chief glares down at the Bright Daughter with a mix of contempt and curiosity. Her power was clear, all wounds or disease fled at her touch. But she was not of the Shar, not willing to give sacrifice to the War Father. Perhaps it would give her chance though. "You will go with the next war party. Your primary task will be to provide healing to our warriors. If there is a chance to speak you may take it, but you will not endanger my warriors. You have one chance little daughter, do not disappoint me." The female Shar takes back her talisman with open distrust, holding it out at arm's length. But as Oza is about to head off with the warrior's a few days later she comes up and thanks her. "One of my children caught a cough that should have ruined his lungs, but the talisman protected him. I thank you, Bright Daughter. I will tell the other females about what you have done for me. Success: You're allowed to go with the warriors to heal them and talk to other races if it doesn't endanger the raid. Your talisman has gained you an ally among the females Claire The tower blazes with a light unseen since the Empire fell. For thousands of miles around it can be seen, reaching the edges of the former Empire at night. Over the next few days a stream of refugees stream up towards the temple, bringing with them supplies hoarded over the long, dark years after the Fall. The Beacon seems to provide a sort of palpable comfort, making the ruined Temple feel less drafty. Order scouts report that the twisted creatures that usually stalk the landscape seem to be wary around the temple, driven under rocks and into shallow caves. Great Success: Your Beacon brings in people from miles around, their supplies helping triage the food crisis. As an added bonus the horrible monsters of the world seem to really not like being close to it. All other players can see the light Sahvonne, Mother of Monsters The Cult digs in to the grubs, devouring them in massive quantities. Blood streams from their hands and lips, the spines cutting deep as they feed. Few seem to care, taking the Dark Mother's lessons to heart. Soon a bustling camp is formed, small stone huts erected in the secluded spots that dot the valley. For half a month the veil of darkness covers the valley, hiding all activity within from sight. But then a bright light to the east appears, ripping the veil to shreds. All thats left is a thin, dark mist, providing only half the concealment of the all encompassing darkness. Near Success: You have a hidden camp but your pall of darkness has been destroyed by a pesky light. Whats left is a mist that makes things kind of hard to see into the valley ~M The Shadow's cover the land, delving into places that the more solid races wouldn't even see. The ruins of the village are quickly searched, coming up with a few chests of non-perishables and a few bags of gold. But better than all that is what one Shadow finds in a house on the outskirts of town. A child cowers in the basement, clutching in her hands a book of stories. She stares up at ~M as she pulls open the basement door, eyes wide with wonder. "Are you a Hero?" Success: You found some supplies and a bit of gold. You've also found a small child holding a book of stories, powerful storytelling stuff. Tarvan The Free Deep under the City the Carnix stir. Old tunnels are reopened, pipes cleared of waste by claw and crude tools. Under Skitter's eye slowly clean water begins to flow again, flushing out the dirt and grime of the old pipes. It still tastes kind of funny and has a strange yellow tint, but its clean water nonetheless. The water all comes from underground cisterns as the Carnix refuse to break out into the surface. If there are monsters down below then up above, where magic was practiced flippantly, the horrors will be much worse. Because she spent so much time staring at the workings of the cisterns Skitter had time to work on a project of her own. As Tarvan gathers more Carnix she comes up to him, beaming brightly. "Looked at how the pipes flow into the cisterns, saw how the dirt got muddy and things grew on it. Looked at village, saw how there was holes for pipes. Saw big hole in middle of village. Built pipes down from water place to village. Replaced pipes in village. Filled hole with water. Green started to grow around hole. Green tastes good." She beams up at her good, waiting his praise. Great Success: You've unblocked and diverted a good potion of the old drainage system. Skitter has a head for innovation and has started very basic agriculture in the village center.
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Feb 17, 2016 20:46
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Grand Moff Slam Hardacre - Camp Bigfoot, The Überwald "Alright, we got somewhere to stay, now boss, why are we here exactly." Slam was gazing out of the new viewing holes in their new camp, named 'Camp Bigfoot' by those who built it towards the setting sun, and turned back to the speaker. "Yer see this hat on mi' head Dorful?" "Yeah your Moffship, it's the Moff hat, every Gnome would recognize the Moff hat." "Exactly, and there is the issue, none of the other Gnomes recognize it because they don't actually know I have it yet. And this is a problem, because I want to save the Gnomes, but I can't save the Gnomes if I can't find the Gnomes." He reached into his pack and splayed out a map in front of him. "So I'm choosing to start here, one because it's where I lived for most of my life, and two is that I know this is where I can find a lot of Gnomes, and they will know where to find a lot of other Gnomes and we can go from there to the capitol. For the plan, remember?" The map was a crude map of the Überwald, it only had a few landmarks and the general shape of the area because of what it showed, namely territory. The clan of the White Foot had the 2nd largest chunk a little way in from the edge of the forest, a tree had been drawn onto it representing Camp Bigfoot and also recently, a very large black spot drawn around what used to be the College of Green Magic. They never went near it before if they could avoid it, and they will certainly stay far away from it now. Various blobs of other colours were dotted around the landscape, Slam motioned to 3 of them. "The only other clans about as large as us are the Silverspoons in the old mines, and I doubt any of the Bigjobs have dug them out yet we'll need their iron and tinkerin' know how for the road ahead, and the Red Caps-" At the mention of this last name followed a huge uproar. Slam irritably waved them into silence, "Yes yes! I know our clan feud has gone way back before I was born, and yes I know what a bunch of sneaky untrustworthy buggers they are, but they're also the biggest clan aside from us and all the clans that don't have alliances with us have alliances with them. We may not like 'em but if we are gonna get out of this forest we'll need them and if they won't respect my hat they'll get a good kickin' up the arse until they do!" The uproar turned to grumblings, and then back into silence under the pressure of Slam's steely glare, "And to that end, I'm thinking of talking to them boys of the Warf Rat clan near Rathaus, they may not be big but they have boats, I ain't particularly fond of a cross country trek on foot to the capitol, too many things to go wrong." "And they wouldn't go wrong on a boat too yer Moffship?" "Course they will but, here is the important bit Hamish, it's a drat sight faster then doing it on foot! Now I want the scouts I selected earlier here, and we are going out sight seein', and whilst we're doing that I want you boys to try and find any of the minor clans that swore fealty to us if yer can, and remember to stay away from the bigjobs and the 'orrible beasties. Hop to it!" "Aye boss!" --- Slam and the boys had done this ever since they were wee bairns, grapnels made from old fishing hooks and string, climbing spikes, little small parachutes from finely woven cloth, and natural Gnomish agility to navigate the forest from the tree tops. It keeps them away from anything that resides on the ground, and falling from that height isn't so much of an issue, since most Gnomes are light enough to bounce harmlessly on impact with the ground. No magic, no spells, just good old fashioned Gnome [+2] Artifice and a bit of [+2] Tricksy, and we will scout the territory of where we last saw the other clans, keeping away from the the ground and anything on it. Hop, skip and jump your way through the canopy and stay out of sight, that is the Gnome plan right now. TheNabster fucked around with this message at 09:34 on Feb 19, 2016 |
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Feb 17, 2016 22:00
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Tarvan the Free Tarvan had been surprised by Skitter's results, not unhappy but just surprised that she had exceeded his expectations. "Yes! You did very well. Growing food takes time and patience, but it means you don't have to go somewhere dangerous just to survive." He said approvingly of the smaller canix, while he waited what plants she had found that grew in artificial light. Maybe it was just a kind of algae, he would need to check it later to satisfy his curiosity. Meanwhile, Peeper still hadn't brought the three he'd asked her to get. Probably she had been distracted and wrapped up into his mother's endeavours. No matter, he made his way through the tunnels and shafts until he rounded up the three canix. Legs was a lanky male who was fast at running. He lacked some of Skitter's agility but as long as he wasn't going through an obstacle course he'd come out ahead of her. Legs also had some dyeing on her legs that seemed to be a similar purpose to tattoos. Jumper on the other hand was not only the best jumper in the tribe, but he was pretty good at crawling around in strange and hard to reach places he'd gotten to by jumping. He was one of the larger canix, but this just meant he was also one of the stronger ones to support himself while climbing. Bullseye was a female canix who had incredible hand eye coordination and was a fantastic shot with her shortbow. Tarvan suspected she'd do very well with a larger bow or a gun of some kind as well, but such weapons were hard to find or make when resources were scarce. She had a lot of piercings and makeshift jewellery. None of it that moved or made noise of course. "Now, I am sure you know that there's some kind of monster moving around down here." Tarvan said to the trio. "A monster of liquid that seems to eat things. We need to know more about it, so I need you to go and annoy it and prod it with things. You're all nimble and able to move around to avoid touching it. What we need to do, is see if it's a liquid that eats things. Sometimes it looks like water, but it will eat you until you disappear. Or it can be different. If you start feeling funny in the head or weak, move away quickly. I want to try and build a drat around it and trap it, but I need to know if there is something here it can't eat. Try poking it from a safe distance, or throwing or shooting things at it. Rocks, bones, wood, stone, metal, shiny things. Just pick small pieces that won't be needed. And remember you must keep away from it otherwise it might eat you. It might follow you, so make sure you take a long way to trick it into thinking you're going somewhere else first before you come back. And if any of you get hurt, come back straight away. This is already dangerous, and I don't want you to get hurt." Using Building [+2] to teach the trio about acid and materials getting eaten by it (in case the liquid creature is some kind of acidic ooze) and relying on the Canix's Scavenging [+2] to get them the materials, to test it and keep them safe.
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Feb 18, 2016 03:14
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Kyris - Desert Kyris nodded in satisfaction at the Relv, their new forms quite pleasing to him, "You have taken the first steps today, the first steps to your new lives, the first steps to strength. You possess it now, bodies to make any man tremble with fear, but without knowing how to use them they are as useless as a sword with no edge. Now, pay attention." Kyna was a war-god, and he had been around long enough to know that war was fought first and foremost with information, knowledge of an enemy's movements, their composition, their morale, these were all crucial ingredients in planning for any battle. So, the first lesson of war he would teach his Relv was the gathering of information, how to scout and track, for there was little point in knowing how to fight an enemy if you could never find him. That this would also help them hunt for game, as well as locate any settlements out in the desert was an excellent bonus. Kyris is going to begin his lessons in War[+2] Lesson 1: Scouting and tracking, an important skill for any soldier.
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Feb 18, 2016 03:45
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Z'kt! - Arid Canyon Z'kt! tasted the air as a dry wind blew through the canyon, causing a soft howling as it whipped over the rocks and through tunnels. Familiar tastes. Familiar sounds. A familiar warning. Leaving the new, towering cacti to their water-collection duties, Z'kt! turned its attention to the matter of food. Vespid were less picky than soft humans when ti came to food; little went to waste in the Nest. But with a Storm coming, Z'kt! knew they would need a stockpile. Just enough to last till the next Calm. Then, migration, provided the scouts return with promising news. While the other Vespids set to work constructing and reinforcing their cliff-side shelters for, Z'kt! gathered a small party of hunters; they would venture out, and bring back anything and everything that could be eaten. Taking a small group of hunters with me and using Bug [+2] to basically buff/bless them to the pinnacle of Bugness while we all go out hunting/gathering for enough food to last us and the larvae through the Storm. Enhanced senses, speed, strength, etc. MEANWHILE, the Vespid spend their time digging out/constructing mud/rock pueblos to weather the coming Storm using Industrious [+2]. Rhjamiz fucked around with this message at 04:08 on Feb 18, 2016 |
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Feb 18, 2016 03:52
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Ozma Ozma nodded her assent and stood. There was no anger or defiance in her eyes, only a quiet resolve. "When I return and your people are well fed, think more kindly of me, Father." --- "I know you disapprove of my coming with you, but be silent. Everyone in camp has grown weary of your complaints." She looked up at the massive warrior, hands clasped behind her, and stood her ground. Even among Shar, Vanguard was a giant. He could crush her in a single blow if he so desired. The Chief would be sorely angry, and none here yet really trusted she would not strike back with her powers. But Vanguard could very easily break her, regardless. "Think of your position. The other warriors look up to you. Will you let them see you acting like a petulant pup? Either swallow your tongue or act. No more of this mewling." The rest of the war party was finishing their preparations some distance away, out of earshot of this discussion. "Now. I respect that these are harsh times, and they call for harsh measures. I will not second guess you. I will do my duty and lend aid however I am able. If you will teach me to walk silently and conceal myself against prey, I will learn. I will hunt the beasts of the land at your side and bring food and skins back to our home. I am not so foolish as to think high-mindedness can alleviate the needs of the body. But should we meet with other peoples, you will allow me to attempt to speak with them. As long as you and your warriors are not put in danger, you will permit it." She stared him dead in the eyes. "Now hit me if it will make you feel better, and let's get to work. And don't feel obligated to keep a slow pace on my account. I may be small, but I wager I can put one foot in front of the other for far longer than you." She could tell the warleader was very unhappy with her words. No doubt she'd be paying for her attitude for quite a while to come. So be it. She meant what she said, and would not recant. Preparations complete, the band headed out. They were searching primarily for food and battle, but with an eye for potential shelter or scavenge. So it was among the Shar. Ozma will keep the war party hale and healthy with Healing +2. When hunting game, she will not interfere, except when it is obvious their prey will escape. In those cases, she will utilize Lightning +2 to quickly end the creature's life. In her mind, there is a large distinction between hunting for sustenance and killing people, and right now they need the food badly. Shar all have proper names. Similar to HiKaizer and his Canix, though, I will name them for their obvious role for the sake of convenience and ease of remembering,
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Feb 18, 2016 22:59
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Sahvonne, Mother of Monsters - Wasteland Valley The light had risen in the east in defiance of the perfect darkness that had settled upon the valley. Those who dwelled within were displeased, but none moreso than the Dark Mother herself. For a day and a night, Sahvonne raged at the impertinence of the tower glittering in the distance, that had ruined her beautiful works and stolen her darkness from her, as the Mother felt sorry and righteous indignation when the things she made were spoiled before they were intended to be. When she gathered her people to her again, none spoke of her displeasure, but everyone felt it. A woman had been with the cult for some time, and it had been discovered she was with child, though she could not say who the father was. Sahvonne set a special place for her when she called together her followers in the shade of one of the buildings they had made, and spoke. "Look and see what we have made in so short a time, and see how others seek to despoil it." She said. At once, she put her hands upon the woman's stomach, and the woman cried out and grew still, but the life within her stirred angrily. Sahvonne's cult knew it was a blessing that the woman had been granted, a blessing that would be given to all of them. "The child shall lead us beneath the earth where the foul light can no longer touch us. It will carve for us a path to retribution. Patience is required, for true vengeance requires thought and deprivation. Suffering and extirpation. One cannot exist without the other." The Mother said, and her followers knew she was correct, as she was in all things. "Assist my child, provide for it in all things, and it shall lead you to blessed darkness again." Ok, to counteract that annoying light, I'm going to use some of that +2 Fertility to create a burrowing abomination of some sort and use it to carve out a labyrinthine Necropolis under the ground for my followers to use and get away from that gross daylight stuff. I'd like to contract my followers' +2 Devoted to make sure the child gets all the care and affection (and proper offerings and sacrifices) it can get to grow big and strong.
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Feb 19, 2016 06:29
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Claire - The Sage - Temple of Lights Innumerable Claire's as surprised as anybody that her Beacon enchantment is as powerful as it is. Not that she's complaining mind you - it was actually a really complicated spell and she'd nailed it, she was really proud of her accomplishment! Especially since it was bringing so many people to her temple (which she was about kicking herself for not having restored first, inviting these poor people into the dilapidated temple was embarrassing). Well done Claire! Still, even as more and more of the women and men arrive at her Temple, she's delighted to see those who've already gotten situated share their carefully stored supplies with the needy in exchange for her temple's safety. So many people getting along together - it was uplifting, true proof that this world and its peoples could be helped - and what's more, help each other! Which, not to brag, driving away monsters for thousands of miles had probably made possible. Just saying. Though she has bigger priorities, like trying to secure a sustainable food source for her followers and soon-to-be followers or repairing the crumbling exterior buildings, Claire can't resist personally greeting as many of the refugees as she can. She may not be terribly good at impressing mortals, but at least she's trying - and her Lightbringers are there to make up for her relative incompetence at winning converts by proselytizing on her behalf. While almost all of the travelers and wayward peoples she's gathered doubtlessly have memories of worshiping the Emperor, it's at least obvious to all that she's the one that crafted the Beacon that had gathered them - had filled a temple that used to shine with Imperial power with her own light - so maybe they'd respect that and worship her? Using Light [+2] and Clerics [+2] to try and win converts among the recently arrived refugees. Also applying Nerd [-2], since this is exactly the sort of interaction with mortals that Claire is particularly bad at. Maybe she'll succeed despite that?
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Feb 19, 2016 09:16
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Cin-sae, Graveyard Cin-sae walked through the windswept graves, pausing to gently tuck in the tortured corpses into what it felt were more comfortable sleeping positions. As it did so, it was glad to have brought peace. These warped energies were a terrible thing, reshaping body and mind in a way too painful to even imagine. Cin-sae's task at hand in this fading world was now clear. But, right now, it did not know the land, or even the extent of the mausoleum before its eyes. So it was that Cin-sae instructed its Supplicants to set themselves to the task of laying the bodies of the dead to proper rest, while it hobbled along onto one of the entrances to the fathomless depths of the mausoleum, set its bony hands upon the bare rock, and started proferring a low, mournful hum. The wordless reverie would spread and return, and in so doing Cin-sae would know the layout of the place. Using Sound +2 to send a pulse down into the rock and map it out via echolocation while the Supplicants bury the dead
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Feb 19, 2016 18:25
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~M -Blasted Lands "Well dearie, you could call me that. I prefer to think of myself as the Narrator. You, you're still here after all this happened. Tell me your name and tell me everything that you saw here...You're a survivor, how would you like to be a hero?" Over the next few weeks, M takes the carnival across the land. Even with the large, angry creatures about, they had to keep moving, the ruins of a single thorpe was not sufficient to keep dozens of non-euclidean quasi-beings going. They made quite the show when they set up shop each night. M had figured if someone had set up the light on the horizon, making their own would suit her as well. You don't need to be original, or even bigger, just better. The storybook was vital, while tales everywhere tended to fall along the same general ideas, the individual details varied enormously, and reflected local beliefs, prejudices, fears, and hopes. When the carnival made camp nightly, M made sure to go through it with the kid and whatever carnies could spare the time. "See, so then the Emperor cornered Bushbeast the Trickster, after Bushbeast had chucked a wad of his own..." M's selection of tales was deliberate; the kid needed hope, and most worlds had a tale of some nobody of obscure origins growing up to curbstomp whatever gets in their way. It was best if they thought of you as a mentor figure. Not 'The Mentor', of course. M didn't want to turn evil and/or die, which is what the role usually required. Using [Athletics+2] to cover as much land as possible and explore the land, trying to meet up with something out there, heading in the general direction of Claire's light pillar. Using my groups [Phantasmagoria] to set up a local lightshow equivalent to draw attention. Using [Storytelling+2] to try to start empower the kid with monomyth style early childhood powers. Hoping for more Starwars/Harry Potter but will settle for hilarious Ender's Game outcomes as well. Ronwayne fucked around with this message at 06:05 on Feb 20, 2016 |
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Feb 20, 2016 02:11
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Year 1, Month 2 AEF Months of Calm: 2 Vespid Scouts: 1 turns remaining Temple of Lights Innumerable Beacon Digger's Birth: 2 turns remaining Grand Moff Slam Hardacre The journey through the forest takes more time that it should have. The great trees of Überwald are pitiful, wretched things, leaning against rocks and trees that still stand like tired old men. Despite this the gnomes still make good time, finding their way across the forest without too much trouble. When they reach the mines of the Sliverspoon's fires can be seen, surrounded by many shadows. A camp of humans has taken up residence around the mine entrance, many of them heavily armed. A few gnomes can be seen scurrying about, cowering whenever a human so much as looks at them. The Silverspoons look emaciated and tired, most filthy and hurt looking. Success: You got the the Silverspoon's camp Tarvan The Free The three Carnix nod and head off into the damp underbelly of the city. A few weeks pass before they return, Bullseye dragging along a wounded leg. Legs steps up and begins the report of what happened. "Went into deep tunnels, tracking monster. Found and damed up, like said. Had Jumper and Bullseye trow rocks at, see if rocks get eat. Thing does not like and sends bits of self at them. Bullseye gets one too leg, beings screaming. Run away fast, dam started not being soon after. When next saw it it was with slime people skeletons." Success: Your Carnix traveled into the deep and found out that yes, the monster is acid and that acid hurts. Kyris The Relv take to the new skill with ease, quickly scouring the desert sands for food and shelter. Strange ram like creatures with clawed feet are found and killed, taken back to camp to be butchered. For shelter the only things are the massive light burning far in the distance and a glimpse of stone one of the younger scouts said they spotted in a low valley between dunes. Success: Found food and possible shelter. Also Claire's beacon, but everyone can see that. Z'kt! Z'kt!'s attempts to strengthen the Vespid to the point of perfection do not go as planned. The traditional view of a better Vespid was a bigger Vespid, and Z'kt! would be damned if he went against tradition. The problem came when the new Warriors were found to be too big. They were slow and clumsy in the air, unable to hunt effectively using their old tactics. In the end they brought back half as much food as would be expected for a hunting party of this size. On the home front the Vespid dug out small holes in the rock, more hovel than home. They would be just enough to survive a glancing gale of the Storm, but if It came on top of them their occupants wouldn't stand a chance. Near Success: The buffed Vespid are big and bulky, the Vespid standard of greatness, and unable to hunt effectively. Invoking Stubborn -2, enjoy your BP. The pueblos are more like holes in the wall, unable to withstand Storm directly. Ozma Vanguard simply snorts and continues on, keeping his contempt for the Little Mother unhidden. The hunting trip passes relatively uneventfully, thanks in part to Ozma. The normal wounds and injuries are dealt with and any wounded prey that might have fought back killed by her lighting. The Shar hunters gain a grudging respect for the Saint's abilities as the trip progresses, though many think she is too soft. Eventually the party comes across a small settlement, a rival Shar clan making camp out of an old way station. Vanguard comes to her and points her to it. "Go, do what you said you would. I will be moving my warriors into position, if you fail we will slaughter them." Success: You heal the warriors and murder the poo poo out of some mutated beasts. Sahvonne, Mother of Monsters The Cult falls to their knees and prays to the woman who Shavonne has blessed. Over the next few weeks they expand one of the caves into a little breeding nest for her. The second best parts of every kill, the best going to Sahvonne, are given to her, along with many other luxuries deemed too plain for the Mother of Monsters. Despite the attention the creature is slow to grow in the mother's belly, screaming and kicking whenever its host is touched by that damned beacon's light. Because of the light the digger's birth will take far longer than expected, coming into the world just before Storm begins. Partial Success: The Digger is placed within the mother's body but due to the Light it will be slow to grow, taking until the last month of calm Claire The refugees dutifully listen to the Sage's words, giving a little back to the woman who let them in from the wasteland. Its clear, however, that her overbearing personality and abstract ideals alienate some of them, though not enough to make them leave. The Order begins to report a rise of refugees coming to their services, the rough-spun folk adding a little bit of flavor to the mostly austere religious gatherings. Crude rose necklaces and symbols are becoming more and more common among the parts of the Temple inhabited by refugees, even if their version of worship is slightly different. They mostly ignore the Magic part and worship her as a goddess of Light. Academics are mostly forgotten as every night they light a fire and ask that Claire keep its light from going out until the next grey morning Success: Many refugees are starting to worship you, even if it is as more of a goddess of light and warmth rather than magic and study Cin-sae The Supplicants spread throughout the graveyard, starting the monumental task of even putting the dead back in the ground. The comforting one goes to the edge of the darkness and begins to bemoan the pain of this world, letting its sorrow guide its vision. The depths are a maze and a half, and that was before the apocalypse. Now tunnels loop back on themselves, downward passages open in higher chambers and reality generally binds and burns around the seams. However all lead to one place, the black void that is below the mausoleum. This allows Cin-sae to chart a path through the undertomb, ensuring that it and its Supplicants will not lose themselves. As it steps back its hum is repeated back from somewhere. Its eyeless face turns to look through a small crack in the wall behind it. A short push is all thats needed to reveal an ancient system of tubes and horns, once used to spread messages all throughout the graveyard. Great Success: You now have a way to get through the horrible passages underneath the graveyard and into the mausoleum. You also found a room that has pipes leading to every part of the graveyard, allowing sound to be sent through them. ~M "A-Alith. My mummy calls me Ali." ~M's carnival travels across the barren land, one of the few bits of color and noise in the wastes. Survivors stopped and stared as the woman with a small child and a trail of shadow beings passed them by, the leader telling the child story after story. Every night they camp around a settlement the Shadow's put on a show, wowing the few people that leave their walls to watch the strange group. After a week Ali begins to make up her own stories. They're...pretty terrible honestly, but ~M can feel the hints of power within them. Around the same time the Carnival halts under a bridge over a dry river bed. Storm is coming and Claire's tower has only grown slightly closer. The older Shadow's want to hunker down in one of the next few settlements and wait out the bad weather. Success: You wow most of the local people, ensuring that your own story will start to spread. Ali has the glimmers of power, even if her stories kinda suck. The Carnival is worried about horrible magic death storms and wants to settle somewhere soonish
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Feb 24, 2016 04:30
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 BP: 1 Location: Temple of Lights Innumerable Claire's positively touched by the signs of devotion from her new worshipers - she actually drew an amulet one of the refugees was wearing, a simple cloth cord with a crude metal rose dangling from it, into her journal. And then circled that drawing several times, adding the words 'Best Present Ever' underneath it. And then stared at the drawing for about five minutes with a contented look on her face before finally putting her journal away under her pillow. Still, more worshipers meant more responsibilities. While the Beacon she'd put up was certainly impressive, it was probably the only part of the once-Grand temple that was. The rest of it was in a state of disrepair, with many of the outer buildings more accurately described as ruins, surrounding walls certainly included. It was hardly a worthy temple for her, or home for her Lightbringers (permanently) and refugees (temporarily). She'd need to fix that. With her plan in mind - and some late nights spent cramming on Reconstruction effects in her spellbooks - Claire set to work restoring the Temple of Lights Innumerable. Her talent with magic would be useful for repairing the physical structures themselves, while her light would suffuse the place, replacing the resonance of decay and ruin with hope and inspiration. Her Lightbringers were there to assist her, of course - they happened to be pretty practiced at maintaining temples from their days spent in service to the Emperor, and here was the perfect opportunity for them to put that to good use for their new Goddess. Using Magic +2, Light +2, and Clerics +2 for a total of +6 towards fully restoring the temple and making it fitting for a Goddess, more habitable for my followers, and easier to defend against potential enemies. Plus, no more leaks in the roof damaging my books. EDIT: If you feel like making a nameplate - since they're fun - here's a link to a convenient generator. Rauri fucked around with this message at 07:59 on Feb 24, 2016 |
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Feb 24, 2016 07:37
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Kyris - The Desert The storms would be coming soon, Kyris could feel it, that meant that the Relv needed a place to shelter away. The only place nearby would be the rocks the scout had spotted. So, Kyris lead his people there. As they traveled he continued to teach them of war. This time, he focused not on scouting, but on the act of battle itself. How to kill, how to avoid being killed, how to leverage their new strength on attack or defense. They had taken the first steps towards becoming warriors, it was time they take the next. As they head towards the stones that were spotted before, War lesson 2: Teaching the Relv how to fight, War[+2] to fight and survive in battle, Strength[+2] on how to effectively use their monstrous strength.
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Feb 25, 2016 06:02
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Cin-sae, Graveyard Cin-sae draped itself over the myriad brass pipes, giving them playful flicks, testing the deep bass notes they sang with their resonance. A Supplicant walked into the room, bowing his head in reverence. "Tell me, child", Cin-sae asked of him, "how go things? Are you all well-fed? Do any in your number hurt?" They would all die in due time, of course, especially in a world such as this, but Cin-sae needed their help to bring the release of death to those that needed it the most, first. It was a matter of priorities, and so it was that taking care of its Supplicants was important. While waiting for the answer, Cin-sae prepared to cast a message into the pipes: a question to all that would hear, a question of a divine nature, an appeal to the core of things that knew death, be it by its presence or absence. Cin-sae would ask them all, that they would tell it whether they yearned the release it brought. In their answer it would know where they waited, all the better to deliver their most deserved eternal sleep. Using Sound +2 and Death +2 on the pipes to ask everything in range a powerful question appealing to the core of their being: "Do you yearn for death's release?". The answer is obviously "Yes" because of Death-bent -2 though, no matter what they say, but hopefully I will know -where- they say it. Also asking the Supplicants how things are going on their end.
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Feb 25, 2016 21:16
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Ozma Hmph. Vanguard was, in the end, a coward. He was a strong and cunning hunter, and he talked a big game. But when she had challenged him, he had opted merely for spiteful words. It was unbecoming of a warrior. One of his fellows would eventually put him in his place, she was certain. It was not that she looked forward to it or wished him ill. That was just how his people were. Though Ozma herself kept to a certain standard of behavior, it was not her place to dictate to others how to live their lives. She would simply provide an alternate example, and if they saw worth in that, so much the better. She rather had her doubts that it would ever happen, though. This hunting trip had gone well so far, but the looks she got proved that she was still an outsider, beyond even the difference in species. That she prayed for the spirits of the slain and did not permit the wounded warriors to suffer for their mistakes has marked her as a softhearted fool among the pack. So be it. This softhearted fool was going to keep them alive to the best of her ability, whether they liked it or not. Ozma reflected on this as she made her solitary path towards the way station. There were a few guards visible, and they watched her approach with a wary eye. A single human was nothing to get worked up over, though how she had come to be out in this wildness by herself was no doubt a question they were asking themselves. Stopping a respectful distance away, she pulled her hood back and spoke. "I am called Ozma. I am an envoy from your rivals, the Crag Wyrm tribe. I come as a peace offering, to heal your sick and injured. I ask nothing from you in return, except that your chieftain consider my words: The world has been broken and it is time to set vendettas aside! As a united people, we can weather the storms and find a land where we can build something for ourselves. Divided, we will die slowly, one by one." She was not built to speak the Shar tongue, yet she managed it well enough, if one discounted the occasional lisp. As she spoke, the cracked ground at her feet began to subtly change, revitalizing at her touch. Thin blades of grass erupted from the earth, spreading slowly but noticeably outward. "Please grant me the opportunity to prove my good will. I swear on my Ancestors that I would sooner slit my own throat than harm any one of you." She hoped they would heed her. Invoking her ancestors would ideally convince them of how serious she was; Shar did not call upon them lightly. Nevertheless, it all felt a bit duplicitous. Vanguard and his warriors waited, hoping she would fail, and these people had no idea. Yet she could not in good conscious say anything. That would only lead to even more death. No, the only choice she had was not to mess this up. Healing +2 to bring life back to the earth around her in a display of power to accentuate her words and reveal her divinity. If this tribe is willing to heed Ozma and give her a chance, she will utilize her domain to mend the ill and the injured. It is her hope that once they realize their rivals have such an individual at hand, they will agree to negotiate and perhaps join forces.
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Feb 26, 2016 02:23
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Grand Moff Slam Hardacre - Silverspoon Mine, The Überwald Slam's default state of being could best be described as 'thunderous' at times, dark skies over head that occasionally explodes in thunder and lightning. But the state he reached when he was told of the conditions in the mines and of the Silverspoon's own village was at that point closer to 'volcanic'. "Slaves?" "Aye sir, they're getting them to dig up stuff the mines, they've got em in cages and threatenin' them if they don't work." The look on Slam's face could have melted iron. He leans forward. "I think it's time for our friends in the Silverspoon to find time away from home, don't you? Alright, here's the plan. --- Slam Hardacre's three step plan to freedom 1) Tunnel through the undercroft. The Silverspoons always had little tunnels here and there and it seems like the plant life has worked it's way through their mine. All it needs is a little [+2] Nature to open it up a little and we're good. 2) Locate where most of the Silverspoons are being kept, if they are in cages, get the keys, if not, tell them to make ready. This needs to be done quietly without the humans noticing, [+2] Tricksy 3) Get Slam to talk to them and show them his Moffship stuff
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Feb 27, 2016 17:05
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~M, at the start of something grander? With the carnival pulled over at a fork in the road, M takes some time to listen to the kid as she tries to come with her own stuff. She's definitely trying. "And then what did he do?" "He pulled out his sword and hit him so hard he exploded like a sack of blood sausages hitting the floor!" "That's certainly...vivid, but lets try something else. Its certainly okay for the hero to just slice the villian in half, but only at the end of the story. The hero has to go through a struggle. He can't just win right away, that might be short, but there's not much of a tale behind that. Let's try to flesh it out more, shall we?" "Okay, he has a sword in each hand and they look kind of like big sharp keys." "Oh dear gods-ahem, where did the hero come from, Alith? Everyone needs a home and-oh jeez, please no, don't start crying I didn't mean to remind you of that. Hey, lads, its time to move beyond the big top and into something more sturdy." M gestures around herself. "See, the most common place for a hero to come from is some place small and out of the way, but safe." M ignores all the tales about the hero's home town being vaporized by assorted disasters and bad guys. "We should have one, too. It takes a village to raise a hero, after all. Now tell me, what do you think a home should have in it?-" Using [Storytelling+2] and the carnival's [Phantasmagoria+2] to sing a RPG starting town into existence. Small, comfortable, and while surrounded by horrible yet conveniently weak monsters and natural disasters is rarely under direct threat itself. Ronwayne fucked around with this message at 05:51 on Feb 29, 2016 |
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Feb 28, 2016 21:34
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Tarvan the Free It was an acid creature. How strange, that something made of acid could be animate and alive in that manner. Tarvan was curious about the creature, but also wanted to avoid killing it or hurting it greatly if it could be avoided. Maybe the creature could be contained, and eventually moved or cared for. A living creature of acid could make for a useful waste disposal mechanism after all, and such a plan would avoid hurting it. Tarvan had been responsible for enough pain and death already. He gathered around many of the Canix, Skitter, Bone Grinder, Sparks, Powder Claws, Bright Eyes, Slouch, Skinner, Groove Maker, Fix and others. About a quarter of the tribe, or at least those that would fit into the largest meeting space. He told them about the nature of acid, how to deal with it and how they could contain it without it eating through the cage. Tarvan explained about the possibility of using it as a waste disposal unit, and how it would be useful to keep it alive but carefully watched. The Canix wanted to feel safe, and a few wanted to hurt it for the hurt it had caused them. Tarvan talked slowly and tried to carefully convince them away from that path. It would not sway all of them, but if it swayed enough then he would be happy. The plan was simple, to find enough glass that they could and to make a big cage out of it. Once that was done, they were going to lure it into the cage and then shut it in. Using Builder [+2] to try to teach the Canix about acid, storing it in glass, and coming up with a plan to store it. Hopefully they can Scavenge [+2] enough glass and of sufficient size to be useful to do this but if not I'll have to come up with another material or another plan.
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Feb 29, 2016 03:08
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Z'kt! - Arid Canyon Failure! Complete and total failure. This could not be tolerated. This would not be acceptable. In every aspect, efforts would need to be redoubled. When it had been chosen to become the God of the Vespid, it promised that all things Vespid would once again be theirs. It had no intention of breaking that promise. And so a new group was chosen, and once again, they set out to secure the future of the Vespid; food and shelter were paramount. Taking a DIFFERENT group of hunters with me and using Plant [+2] create some TEMPORARY grasses and plants that are aromatic and pleasant enough to attract animals into a trap. MEANWHILE, the Vespid continue to reinforce their shelters using Industrious [+2]. "Good enough" isn't good enough.
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Mar 1, 2016 01:49
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Year 1, Month 3 AEF Months of Calm: 1 [/i] Temple of Lights Innumerable Beacon Digger's Birth: 1 turn remaining Skitters Construction: 2 turns remaining[/i] Claire the Sage The temple repairs start out smoothly, most of the lower walls surrounding the main building completed within a few days. However things start to slow down when the supplies begin to run out. While the Temple was well stocked with food, building supplies were in rather short supply. Anything more than minor repairs would exhaust the current stockpile, and there was another problem. Claire began to notice that her power over magic was slowly waning. A massive force was rising far to the west, a great gathering of mana that overshadowed all other magical hotspots. Close success: A few repairs can be made but anything beyond that will require more resources than the Clerics have on them. Claire is also feeling the effects of the massive Storm forming to the west Kyris The Relv take to their training easily enough at first, their new forms quickly adapting to combat. However as the power of War seeps into them something snaps. Brutal beatings become more common, violent fights break out almost nightly and the number of injured skyrocket. The Relv quickly descend into petty bickering that lead into violent brawls. When they reach the stones, a low cut stone building that seems to lead deeper into the sand dune, a battle breaks out that ends with two Relv dead and many more injured. Close Success: Kyris’s training goes too well. The Relv are violent and quick to argue now, and this takes a toll on their cohesiveness and numbers Cin-Sae The Supplicant smiles up at his God. “We merely ask to serve you Lord, that is all any of could ever want or need. We have gone above mortal needs, anything more than the bare minimum needed for survival is wasteful. All we ask is to serve you and have those basic requirements meet until we can sing the world to sleep.” A few days after the Kindly One’s question something rumbles back through the voice tubes. While it is low and garbled enough so that no mortal could hear it Cin-Sae understands it just fine. It is an affirmative, coming from the lower depths of the crypts. Success: Your cultists only wish to survive well enough to serve you. Also something from the deepest parts of the crypts has taken you up on your offer. Sain Ozma Around Ozma’s feet the ground darkens, nutrients returning to the soil. Living grass quickly followed, on its heels the odd bush and stunted tree. For twenty feet in either direction the plains returns to its former glory, looking it would at the height of Spring. The Shar are mixed between shunned silence and quiet prayer. Their leader regains his composure and cautiously moves closer. “You will come with us, tell the Chieftain of your gifts. It is not human witchery, it is something else. You are powerful like ancestors.” Success: A wide patch of prairie is fertile again and the Shar are willing to take you to their leader. This has more than likely had a positive effect on Vanguard’s perception of you. Grand Moff Slamhardace The earth around the mines is weak and crumbles beneath the efforts of Gnomish ingenuity. Once inside the warren of tunnels finding the Silverspoons is easy, all one needs to do is follow the trail of chains. In a side cavern near the top is the Silverspoon’s prison, a dank pit with manacles in the walls. The gnomes rest here when they are not working, pressed up against one another at all times. It is not hard for them to recognize Hardacre’s Moffship, their Moff is dead and Hardacre is clearly coming to save them. Their elder, Franzweiss, tells of how they came to be like this. “After the drat humans broke the world we hid in the mine, riding out the worst of the storms. When we came out the forests were gone and the sky was grey, all that was left was smoke and ash. A few days later this band of bastards showed up and besieged the mines. Their leader is a mage of somesorts, has a gem in his personal chest that summons things from the Beyond. Calls himself a God he does, his men seem to believe it. You’re strong but hes got some power of his own, if I was you I would smuggle us all out and come back smash his fat head in later. Success: You’ve saved the Sliverspoons and learned what the humans have against you. Game Tip:You guys aren’t the only gods. Be wary against fighting those who have similar powers. ~M As ~M talks her shadows move about, setting up backdrops and facades around the empty plain. Slowly the empty wooden shells begin to take definite form, becoming stone and timber as she weaves her tale. Rabbits and mice walk out of their new homes, grow and stand upright; beginning to gossip about their neighbors with one another. Off in the distance a tribe of stunted wolves begin to discuss waylaying travel on the road passing by the town. In the hills south of the place a lone Shar shaman begins to have dreams of building a tower and binding earth spirits to it. When ~M is done a bustling village is around the caravan; pastoral human houses standing next to oversized burrows. Ali giggles and claps her hands as a small mouse boy runs past. Great Success: Your story telling has a made a village of animal people, more Redwall than furry, spring up in the landscape; complete with bandits attacking the road and a powerful “wizard” looming over the settlement Tarvan The Carnix report back to Tarvan a few hours later, minus most of their glass. On their way to the things lair they had been ambushed by what looked to be skeletons covered in the acidic slime, around fifty of them. While glass had worked well as a shield against the attacks the sheer number of horrors had thrown back the expedition. However on the way back Skitter had seen something in the dark and became inspired, rushing off to her den when the party returned home. She now refused to come out, yelling that it would be done “soon”. Close Success: The expedition has been thrown back by spooky scary skeletons but your resident engineer has been struck by inspiration Z’kt! The temporary groves drawn in the scaly animals that lurk in the cliffs, easy prey for the Vespid hunters. By the time Z’kt! returns to the nest they’ve brought in enough food to last through most Storms. The nests themselves are also more prepared for the oncoming Storms. The hovels were deeper and better reinforced, some even had tunnels linking them, allowing movement without risking the outside world. Those that do have tunnels link up to one, large central room where they have put one of the great cacti and most of their food. As Z’kt! directs work on connecting more tunnels the scouts finally return. “To zeeee north and eazzzt the moutainzzzz stretch on farther than we can zeeee, nothing but mist and rock. Zzzzouth and wezzzt is a huge dezzzert. We zzzaw zzzome mammalzzz in it. Far beyond that zzere izz a huge light. Success: You a bunch of food from the hunting and when you come back the warrens are much deeper and some are even connected to a central room. The scouts report that there is seemingly endless mountains to your north and east, desert to your south and west and a light far in the east
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Mar 18, 2016 23:17
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Kyris "Enough!!!" Kyris' voice sounds across the assembled Relv like the crack of thunder. "It seems another lesson is required, a lesson in discipline, so I will teach it to you. From this moment on you will live by My rules and My orders. In battle your current attitudes will simply lead to your slaughter, so I will forge you into soldiers, My soldiers." So it was that Tign let his power flow and began to implement a regime of iron discipline. He established rules for anything and everything, from when to awaken, how to eat, how to address one another and him. Any disobedience or disrespect was punished instantly and harshly, for Kyris had strength that far outclassed even all of the Relv combined much less any one of them. Two rules were established as the most vital. First, God was due absolute respect and obedience in all things. Second, to raise a hand against another Relv without God's permission was a grave sin. Both were enforced even more harshly than any other of the rules Kyris established. In the end, Kyris knew that wars were lost and won on the discipline of the troops fighting. He had seen more than one of his followers in the old days die in vain due to the lack of it. So, in his zeal to protect them from such a thing, Kyris attempted to instill an absolute and iron-clad discipline in his followers. Perhaps he was going overboard, but there was no way he would risk losing his Relv to such wild impulses and violence, regardless of the cost. Tign is trying to instill absolute and unquestioning discipline in the Relv. War[+2] to grant them supernatural discipline and using Strength[+2] to try and enforce it. Father to His Tribe[-2] as he's seen followers in the past harmed from the lack of discipline so he's gonna end up going way overboard. If we start with a Bonus Point, I'll also spend one.
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Mar 19, 2016 04:47
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Ozma As she was brought before their leader, Ozma knelt and paid due courtesy. Powerful she might be, but she had no desire to lead or to subjugate. Only to ensure these people could survive. To that end she was entirely willing to discard pride and metaphorically bare her throat. Literally as well, perhaps, if necessary. "Great hunter of the Swamp Kraken. I am called Ozma, unblooded initiate of the Crag Wyrms. I come to you on behalf of my lord to extend a branch of peace. Long have your tribes warred, rightly, as nature and necessity demands. Yet a new era has come upon us. The world is dying. Those that survive the hunts and the battles live only to be culled by the storms or made sport of by bandits and outlaws. Our scouts tell us the southern tribes are utterly destroyed, and no doubt your own say the same. In these troubled times, when great change sweeps across the land, you must change as well." She lowered her head deferentially. "I beg you, humbly. Put aside your hatred. Join with us. Aid us in convincing others to band together. Help us find a future before everything is lost, forever." Looking up, her eyes flashed not with defiance, but conviction. Whatever this Shar lord may think of her proposal, it was obvious this human believed in her own words wholeheartedly. "As a gesture of goodwill, I offer my own services to you. I have been gifted the arts of healing, and I will put them to to use if you will grant me leave. If you require a demonstration, I will happily do so." If the leader is willing to humor her, Ozma will use Healing +2 to demonstrate that she is no liar. If he requires other tests of her, she will accede - provided it does not involve harming others.
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Mar 21, 2016 22:51
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BP: Claire could hardly stop from fretting - this wasn't good at all! She'd messed up and hadn't thought to count the supplies, it wasn't her Lightbringer's fault at all. That's why the repairs on the Temple had halted. Making things worse, there was a massive storm on the horizon - and, personally distressing, she had to watch herself somehow get worse with magic in the days leading up to it. Claire adored all the spells she knew*, considering each a triumph of imagination and knowledge - and not being able to utilize many of them was like having to cut off one of her arms. Still, now wasn't the time for self-pity. There was a storm coming. If she didn't do something to help, her poor followers and those that believed in the worthiness of her protection would suffer. She couldn't allow that, wouldn't let herself fail that way. They'd come to her Temple seeking protection, and that's exactly what she was going to provide for them. That's why, right as dusk falls, Claire's out at the perimeter of the temple, mumbling words ancient even to the stars. It's not a complicated spell, she knows she doesn't have the ability for them at the moment. No, what she's casting is practically the oldest spell, the oldest prayer, to ever have been uttered. "Please, oh please, let the storm fall somewhere else." Using Light, Magic, and a Build Point to shield the temple and the storm inside against the manastorm as much as possible, with a total of +6. Did we start with a BP? If so, I have one and not zero. *Claire's never learned dark magic, because it's not real magic, it's cheating. Rauri fucked around with this message at 06:04 on Mar 22, 2016 |
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Mar 22, 2016 06:00
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~M "...and that's how Mr. Wifflebottom learned never to mix Tanner's Bleach with Ammonia, ever!" M nods and smiles as the assorted shadows and animals critters chortle and giggle at the thought of the fictional koala bear's horrific respiratory scarring. "Who's up for one more tale before bedtime? Everyone? Okay! Ali, I'll start this one, but you take over from there. Remember what I said, there's two main stories, 'There is trouble in the village'" M raises one hand and an image of the village appears in her hand, smaller and with little lines pointing in. "And 'A stranger comes to town.'" in her other, the same vision, but with lines pointing out and just a single one coming in", its pretty quiet right now, so how about we do the second? Ahem, "With Storms on the horizon and bandits harrying the roads, tension has seized the little hamlet," M brings her hand together, a single image of the village glowing in her palms, with all sorts of tiny gribblies surrounding it while the sky in the background thundered and churned. "Fortunately, brave heroes had heard of this, and braving the dangerous challenges in their way they-" tiny figures appeared on the horizon, just ahead of the incoming foul weather." Okay Ali your turn, GO!" Ronwayne fucked around with this message at 03:56 on Mar 23, 2016 |
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Mar 23, 2016 02:25
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Tarvan the Free They apparently had some kind intelligence, the slime, which surprised and confused Tarvan. Or maybe it was operating on instinct. Was it possible for it to be aware and intelligent? While it seemed unlikely, given it was acid and slime which should logically make for poor neuroconducting and storage of memories and thoughts...he was still skittish. His sins did not so easily slide off of his back and their weight was a constant and oppressive memory. But the Canix needed his help, and it was the nature of the world that things died so that others could live. He tried to tell himself this and cast away his doubts, which he knew most likely to be untrue. They needed a way to fight back at the creatures and to defend their homes, but options were limited. Perhaps if a basic substance could be found, it could be used to neutralise the acid. Surely the slimes would wish to avoid such harmful, or at least uncomfortable situations and they could be herded. Any more deliberate intent on the part of the slimes would likely indicate at least rudimentary intelligence, but Tarvan needed to deal with that as it came. "Quick nose, let me tell you about something. I need you to find something, it will smell a bit like this, but you need to be careful not to breathe in too deeply or you will become sick. You might be able to find it in places like..." Tarvan's going to try and see if they can find cleaning supplies with basic solutions and then use that as a deterrent or improvised weapon to chase away the slime creatures. Building [+2] makes the most sense for knowing what the stuff might smell like and where to find it. Also I feel like being underground it's hard to use my Storms domain. Do you have any suggestions or thoughts on this?
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Mar 25, 2016 01:08
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Cin-sae, Graveyard Cin-sae sat by a stone block in the dead of the night, humming a lullaby to itself, awaiting an answer from the deep. Finally, it came, and Cin-sae was overjoyed. "Gather your things", it said to its followers, "we are putting one last soul to rest in this place before we march again." Cin-sae's shrouded feet danced to an unheard tune - what answered was to be a soul weary of the dread of existence, accepting of the final embrace of oblivion. These were the cases Cin-sae enjoyed the most. Using Sound +2 to navigate the tunnels and head towards the -something- that answered.
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Mar 25, 2016 17:15
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Grand Moff Slam Hardacre - Silverspoon Mine, The Überwald "Don't you worry Sir, I have a list of grivences a mile long already, but me thinks I can make space for a bloody wizard." He adjusted his belt gathered the Silverspoons together and pointed towards the hole. "You lot get out there, me men will take yer to Camp Bigfoot, everyone else we're gonna stick around for a little while longer and make sure the big jobs will be, preoccupied." "They'll be wonderin' why the caves are so quiet soon, and they're gonna want to investigate." He smiled, as he said this, a group of gnomes carried through a selection of saws, drills and hammers, and began making some adjustments to the mine-shaft. "Boy are they going to be surprised." --- A parting gift from me to you, some tampered mine shafts and weakened support structures to make good on the ingredients for caving in the mines on some unsuspecting big-job buggers. That'll teach em. If we knew how to make Gunpowder this would be easier but I am not sure I can, so I'll make do with what I gots. [+2] Artifice of course, we are making somethings and modifying other things (mainly sawing through supporting structures and removing the nails from key structures). All in the best and very [+2] Tricksy traditions of the Gnomes. If you can't fight evenly, fight dirty. The plan after that is wait until as many get in the mine as possible, and then light the fuse and leg it. Dangerous, but all the best plans are.
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Mar 26, 2016 16:47
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Z'kt! - Arid Canyon Z'kt! only nodded. Good. Everything was prepared. The Vespid could do little else but hunker down and wait out the storm. Meanwhile, however, Z'kt! had a mistake to undo... Using Bug [+2] to undo the blessing put on those other vespid hunters and return them to normal. Sorry for the short post, been struggling with energy these past two weeks.
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Mar 28, 2016 15:52
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Year 1, Month 4 AEF Calm's End Temple of Lights Innumerable Beacon Skitters Construction: 1 turn remaining Everyone Storm clouds grow in the west, heavy with mana. The winds become howling gales, some say that they're the voices of those killed when the Emperor died. Life retreats into the cracks and crevices, hiding in old ruins or beneath the earth. The very sky seems to bend and buckle, taking the strange black-rainbow like a film of oil on water. Raiders prepare their strongholds and the nomads retreat into scared places. The whole world seems to be holding is breath, waiting for the Storms to come BP opportunity: In your turn post, from the PoV of another player's tribe on how they feel about and deal with the Storms. Do they worship it, propitiate deadly gods to stave off the worst of it, just try to bunker down and ignore it? Kyris The Relv stop their fighting to listen, pliable minds taking in everything Kyris tells them. The commands of their god take hold in their mind and they begin to write down the rules among their camp, scratching them in the sand and copying them down on their skin. The Rules take precedence over all things, setting up a strict chain of command with Kyris at the top and the least able members at the bottom. Difference is shown between ranks and any deviation from The Rules is punished by being separated from the main group. When enough of the Rule-Breakers have accumulated they are told to go into the building and tell the rest of the camp whats inside. Days pass before a quarter of the original number return. The building is the first in a series of rooms that lead deep into the earth, crawling with mutated horrors and deadly traps. The Storm is coming and there is little time to seek other shelter. Success: The Relv have learned discipline well, but they are close minded and worship your Rules almost as much as they worship you. Also the building leads to spooky ruins. Gain a BP Ozma For the next month Ozma stays among the Swamp Kraken, healing their wounded and easing the passing of their dead. While initially suspicious the Chieftain honors the Saint, welcoming her to the great feasts after each hunt. The warriors she brought are likewise getting a warm welcome, several marrying into the tribe and swearing blood pledges. The Shar here look to Ozma with respect, there is murmurings that she walks with the Ancestors as their kin. Old stories, about a time before Man, when the Shar were united and strong, are told for the first time in centuries. As Storm approaches the Kraken make ready to move to the safety of the hills, their Storm land deep in a canyon. Many among the Saint's entourage suggest that they make maps to the Crag Wyrm's Storm holds, trade during the deadly season can strengthen the bond between tribes. Success: You become very close to the tribe you're staying with. Some of your guys want to open up Storm-time trading routes with them Claire the Sage Claire's magic flares up as it surrounds the temple in a brilliant light, a grand beacon in the dark before the Storm. The Lightbringers and refugees watch in wonder as the sky becomes a second sun, softly streaming light down upon them. As the month wears on the farmers become used to it, thinking it another thing to add into their simple prayers. The Lightbringers count it as a divine miracle. Each day they go out to the site of the casting and leave offerings of books and make prayers, calling out in thanks for your divine magic. Soon the spot has a small wooden altar and is ringed with rocks, the best they can do with limited materials. While both groups are in prayer a scream is heard from the outskirts of the site. When a crowd arrives them find a woman dead on the ground, her throat ripped out and pure mana in the air. Only one thing and leave a rip in reality so strong, only one thing could be attracted to the massive show of magical power like a moth to a flame. The crowd wisphers out the most feared creature of all "Demon". Close Success: No BP to start out with, but you do make your shield. However it attracts demons due to the massive magical force involved, and demons are not to be hosed with. Also the Lightbringers and farmers are steadily growing quite different in how they worship you. ~M The animals smile and laugh the live-long day even as Storm looms on the horizon. They village was in a dell, sure to be sheltered from the gales. Sure a true squall would rip the village in half, but who thought about that. The Townsguard, thats who. A few of the strange creatures had set up a small shack on the outskirts of town where they held weapons and trained each other, forming a small militia. The steady stream of wanderers looking for a place to hide from the Storm were accepted into the order, learning how to fight with simple wooden and stone weaponry. Their first forays are to strike at the bandits robbing the road, and they soon push the brigands back into the hills to wait out the Storm. But as the town begins to hunker down they become more restrictive. Guards are every entrance, a full patrol in the central square. Its not quite a tyranny yet, but the period of peaceful anarchy is over. Close Success: The "Heroes" are little more than jumped up militia with delusions of grandeur, but they get the job done. However they seem less interested in going out on adventures during the Storm and more inclined to enforce order on the town. Tarvan the Free The Carnix already cleaned out a few caches of cleaning supplies, even before Tarvan intervened they were quick to tinker, and they know where to find more. Soon scouting parties are reporting that there is a cache above the main camp, in a massive chamber. Such places are the size of whole cities, most having their own weather and ecosystems. Carnix and other scavenger tribes fight for control of food and other necessaries, often feeding the trash and carrion eaters. This place is no different, and getting the cache might be tricky. More worrying is that the scouts gossiped with hunters from another tribe and heard news about the slime. A few smaller tribes had been consumed by the same slime-skeletons Tarvan's tribe had seen. The largest force was commanded by a massive being of slime and flesh that dwarfed even the largest Carnix. Success: Your Carnix find a cache of cleaning supplies, though getting it will be a little bit tricky. They also learn some new information. Cin-Sae The tunnels below the cemetery are deep and dark, filled with the worst horrors that could be birthed from the central mausoleum. Cin-Sae's followers are picked off one by one, dragged into the deep dark by unseen foes. The singing keeps back the worst of the monsters but every so often one breaks through and dwindles the party further. A general halt is followed by camp in a chamber dominated by a dry fountain and a destroyed statue. If this pace continues the Kindly ONe will be left with only a handful of followers by the time they reach the place below the center, where the voice was calling from. Close Success: You're making good progress but bleeding followers due to hit and run attacks. Grand Moff Slam Hardacre Supports are weakened, trip wires set and cave walls mined. Two hours after the last gnome leaves the mine a band of humans enter with fire and steel. A minute after that the mine rumbles and collapses, killing all those inside. The leader comes out of his tent and begins to scream at the humans. One of them, what looks like his second in command, suddenly starts screaming in anger. He rushes a rock and tries to punch it and smash it with his head. The rock ends up winning in a bloody display of defense. The rest of the humans cower and begin to start working on clearing the mine, any shelter is good during storm. One of the gnomes turns to the Grand Moff and points at a few sacks and boxes they managed to get out. "While we were setting the traps we managed to get some silver out. Not a lot, but enough to do something with. If we pack it all up now we can get home before Storm hits." Great Success: You collapsed the mine and witnessed some bullshit. You also got a fair amount of silver. Z'kt! The reversal of the curse seems to do something to the hunters. Instead of returning to their normal state they grow and shift, multi-faceted eyes shining bright. When they're done a group of exemplars of Vespid kind stand before Z'kt!. Strong and proud, quick in the air and able to burrow through the ground. If the Vespid species species had an Adonis then he would look a lot like them. They quickly integrate into potions of leadership and control, taking the best rooms and guiding digging efforts. Under their command the tunnel network grows to stretch out under the cliff, filled with storage rooms and protected holdouts for egg chambers. They even make a large room with a few giant cacti and throne for you. Great Success: You get what you originally wanted, but better. The hunters are the perfect examples of the Vespid species, magnificent in every way. They help turn the few tunnels into an actual living space. Mercury Salahan The fighting has stopped for the Storm. The remains of the Imperial Legion has retreated back to their armored barracks and walls, content to ride out the monsters and gales of the coming season. The pirates and brigands hold the docks and rotting ships, brooding in their seaside taverns. That fool militia roosts in the governor's mansion and raids the countryside around the island. From the Coral Temple out on the bay, a single island off from the main city, you can see it all. The bridge is in ruins from the last assault, one of the few functional ships is crashed on it. Through the flooded halls of the Temple the Merefolk shove driftwood into cracks and ready their weapons. They call upon Mercury, Goddess of the Sea, to help guide them through the season of white water and horrors from the deep Welcome to the game! mcclay fucked around with this message at 23:20 on Apr 12, 2016 |
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Apr 12, 2016 23:13
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| # ? Apr 25, 2024 07:29 |
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 Mercury, for the first time in quite possibly eons, opens her eyes. ... and Immediately gets blinded by a bright light in the distance. She shields her eyes from the light... and notices her followers kneeling in awe below the raised platform that served as a makeshift bed for the elemental form of their deity.. Apparently, they did attend and guard her as she slept. Good. But... this place... it's in shambles! There's holes everywhere! Just... what happened? "My faithful... I have returned. Thanks to you all, no doubt. But..." Mercury starts to look at the damaged parts of the building, as well as the blinding light that her sleepy eyes to even look at. "I seem to have missed much. Tell me of the current times, if you may." As she listens to her attendee's explanations, she walks through the temple, talking stock of everything. Food, building materials, weapons and gear... uh oh, looks like we need everything. Food will probably last for a bit, though. Her attendee assures her it'll last through the storm. What storm? Oh. Oh... that's not good at all! "Thank you. I think I have a decent grasp on things, now... if what you're saying is correct, we still have some time until the storm arrives. I would urge you to scavenge for some gear beneath the waves - corals you might use as armor or weapons,, or simply lost equipment. It does seem like we are going to need it once the storm passes. Worry not - I will make sure the currents are kind. My light will guide you and ward of the horrors below. Now go, and make sure you return before the storm arrives. I could not bear to lose any of you so soon after awakening, but it seems like we are going to have to battle soon." The Merfolk will use their [+2] Amphibian nature to try and gather or scavenge material or gear left below the water, and Mercury will assist them in doing so with her power over [+2] Water to calm the waves, and [+2] Astral to provide an eerie, warding light to keep away the horrors of the sea and provide light at the same time. ---- Meanwhile, in the Temple of Lights Innumerable, Claire's followers look at the brewing storms with ever-growing worry. Sure, the Sage's feats were quite impressive, but she appeared so human. Perhaps, too human. The nagging doubt never quite left them, even as the temple continues to shine brighter and brighter - largely because the gales start howling louder and louder as they approach. While most simply hunkered down best they could, a few couldn't help but wonder - is there perhaps an intelligence behind these storms? What, if the storms... are merely angry? And such, a small, but growing number of people have began to perform all kinds of strange rites, in secret, attempting to appease the storms with some sort of directionless worship - mostly harmless, thankfully. It is a bit worrisome, however, as the desperate are known to attempt increasingly extreme methods... Yami Fenrir fucked around with this message at 00:54 on Apr 13, 2016 |
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Apr 13, 2016 00:48
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