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 Cat AI action: Claim things as your own. If it is unsafe, stalk from the shadows. HP: 6/10 (1/1HP, 5/9 lives) Skills: Feline instincts 5D6, Haughty disdain 3D6 Powers: Stalking 2D6 Defences: Cat reflexes 5D6 Initiative: 18 Vanilla Talent: I meant to do that. Cat stood aloof from the goings on. She had been totally missed by the silly light beams and unscathed by the dangers so far (some ghostly cat spirits wailed nearby in anger, unseen, unheard). Ignoring the adulation and appreciation of the delivers who- Hey! Cat's feline instincts detected- someone was disinterested in Cat! Vivienne! Too wrapped up in some spell or other. That won't do. Cat approached Vivienne, mewed for attention, and leaped onto her shoulder, nuzzling her face in a display of affection (and utter disrespect for boundaries). Vivienne was filled with warmth for this friendly feline, instinctually extending her aegis's power. Cat senses-detect person disinterested in cats. Bother them! (Buff aegis): 5d6-4d6 6- success! Of course, the second she paid any attention to Cat, Cat leaped from her shoulder, escaping to the opposite shore. Leap to safety!: 5d6 22 WereGoat fucked around with this message at 13:27 on Feb 9, 2018 |
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Feb 9, 2018 12:48
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 Name: Vivien Lumičre Initiative: 16 Health: 7/10 HP Background: Vivien is a high disciple of the Divine Order of the Pristine Depths, a healing-based faith devoted to Morgan Le Fey, the Lady in the Lake and High Enchantress of Arthurian Legend. AI Actions: Heal allies, Defend weaker creatures, Cure the sick and maimed, Enchant party's weapons and defenses, Eliminate dangers Skills: Enchantment:5d6, Curative Magic: 4d6 Powers: Holy Smite: 2d6 Defenses: Aegis of Camelot: 4d6 Talent: Vivien found herself in the middle of an impromptu swamp that had spontaneously arrived beneath her feet. The illusion felt all too real - it was complete with looming trees with clinging branches that were thick with hanging moss, their rotted trunks mired in the murky black muck that extended all directions. Was that a floating log drifting her way, or something far more nefarious? Best not to find out - the only way out of this place seemed to be forward. Vivien gingerly stepped upon the rocks and roots and partially-overgrown pathways that brought her closer to her destination. There was a rope bridge that overlooked the deepest point of the swamp, and waiting for them all at the end of that bridge was a hydra. Vivien consulted her arcane knowledge of hydras from ancient lore and legend, and she knew of their mythic weakness: fire applied to its wounds. Vivien realized far too late that Stefania (the imp-witch with all the fire powers) should be the one here for this challenge, not her. If anyone could survive being submerged in a vat of corrosive acids, it would be Vivien, and if anyone could defeat the Hydra with fire, it would be Stefania! It stood to reason that this setup was completely unsuited to Vivien's talents... Nonetheless, she had to try or Stefania would die. Just as soon as Vivien had closed her eyes and extended her arms to begin her incantations, the Cat jumped from a height and onto her shoulder and mewed in her ear. Aw, poor kitty! Vivien couldn't help but be completely distracted by the thing. We're those las-gun scorch marks on its dusty, furry flank, or was she just imagining things? The cat seemed none too worse for the wear, but she extended the bubble of her Aegis around the small companion just the same. Vivien protects Cat this round! That sorted, Vivien realized with sudden clarity that the shades and spirits that had been lurking in the shadows all this time were none other than Stefania's imps! The realization was immediately reassuring to her. Suddenly she had cat to protect and an entourage of expendable allies to bolster her offenses against the hideous hydra! Vivien tapped into her impish compatriot's connection to their master. There was a hidden trick to them of course - Vivien couldn't control them, but just as she could banish them back to the hellplane they came from she could also bolster them from the hellplane they came from. It was a matter of activating their innate potential, as determined by their creator's mana sources. Casting this enchantment from Stefania's mana pool was the closest Vivien would ever bring herself to casting a "hell"-class spell, and deep down she relished the opportunity. Source-Buffing Hellfire Aura on Stefania's Imptourage: 5d6-4d6 5 - Success! Hellfire was just so much better at burning things than regular fire, and they were in a swamp... Vivien looked down and realized that the floating log she'd seen earlier just winked at her. It was closer, too. Casting Levitate on Self (and Cat on shoulder): 5d6 20 "Better yet, lets just walk over and around this muck, Cat. Let's keep our little boots dry." Vivien's Actions posted:Action 1:
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Feb 11, 2018 01:36
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Molriir Hearthstone HP: 6/10 Initiative: 7 Skills: Educated Dwarf [3d6], Hearthstone [4d6]. Power: *Superior Quality Repeating Crossbow* [3d6] Defense: Unbelievably Stubborn [5d6] Inventory: Backpack o' stuff (delicious rations, oil, rum, etc.), Hearthstone Shield (+1d6 to a Defense against physical dangers - any nearby stone receives increased durability and tensile strength).  As the last pieces of reality clicked together, obscuring and locking away the Drone, Molriir fell to his bum and let out a gasping breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding in. He'd thought himself done for, the moment the Drone shrugged off his blow. Now, instead, he found himself in the same spot he'd been prior to breaking reality, in the middle of trying to set up a camp. Vividly, he remembered struggling and fighting and dying in infinitesimal fractions, but the only evidence of it ever having taken place was the Lady's words and the pile of... the devil's Tools? What had even happened there, at the end? His burdens had been strangely, and unaccountably, shed after the Drone had leveled its leveler against him. It had seemed confused by the result, so perhaps nothing of the sort had been intended. Molriir nodded to himself. That was good. The bound thing had failed to capitalize on the damage left over from his time in the long and lonely Path. The dwarf looked at the Hearthstone shield, still hot, but cooling fast, and glanced around. With reality re-asserted he didn't feel too good - it seemed as if he'd been further bled of his meagre energies - but even so he felt more like himself than he had in a... long while? Molriir wasn't sure how long it'd been, in actuality, since he entered the Dungeon. The Path and the interminable, damnable stairways had made his sense of time's passing horribly twisted, and although it felt as if he'd entered the Dungeon years ago, he'd checked and double-checked his supplies and rations and nary an item had gone to rot or wear as of yet, nor had hunger ever been an issue. The Dungeon seemed to work in mysterious ways, either preserving them, and him, or stretching out time's passing... or some other such fanciful Magi-born solution. Molriir picked himself up from the floor just as Emille reappared. She came in oddly, a little after he had, like something had made her flicker in late. The dwarf wasn't sure what that was about, but he let out a sigh of relief at the sight and rushed over to the woman's side. "Emille! I'm sorry fer pullin' ye into tha' mess! I was tryin' some mental trick t' draw th' veil offa th' Lady - but tha' veil was... everythin'? I would nae have done this if I knew it'd collapse th' realm about us and summon some bound devil o' the Tower Magi. Leastwise we know th' Lady's an actual bein' now, and a couple o'er things besides - like th' fact the Dungeon be tied t' a Tower, if the yellow-helmed devil spoke true - and a damaged one at that - though it was a stiff prize t' pay fer such simple ken." The dwarf eyed the Drone's tools on the floor, and eyed the Lady, as best he still could, curious as to her sudden generosity. Looking back to Emille, he took the opportunity to point out a few of his hard-earned lessons. "Right, well... th' Leveler there appears t' do things t' one's state o' bein'. Th' Helm's got some manner o' incredible defence. Th' Hammer applied enough force t' disable me shield, which makes it one o' th' more dangerous things o' th' lot, in me humble opinion. Th' Measurin' Tape appears t' aid in whate'er ye want t' do. Th' Saw... well, th' Saw just bleedin' hurts. That's th' best I can figure o' these tools. Yer welcome t' have yer pick." He smiled at Emille and turned to the Lady. "Since I don't want any o' these, and ye ken yer Ticket's more o' an insult unless ye return me clan and home as well, I'll 'ave th' Question. I'd still like t' know more about ye, after all. 'twas th' whole point o' puttin' eyes on ye in th' first place! Unless ye truly want t' sit down and answer such things in plain, I'll spend me boon on a straight answer." The dwarf stroked his beard. The boons were an interesting twist on the Lady's style of... 'play' so far. The more useful ones were, for survival's sake, at least, likely to be the Tools. Meanwhile, freedom or a question answered were rare gifts, to be spent well. Both could tempt, in this situation. Those who were in over their heads and whose desires were not worth the pain they'd gone through would take the ticket. "Yer toyin' with th' lives o' an uncountable number o' beings, most o' them helpless t' understand what yer doin'. I reckon ye must 'ave a reason, so... What is yer Heart's Desire, Lady?" -------------------------- "So I'm t' offer Tears, and I can do whate'er about it?" Molriir spent a minute or so thinking, then retrieved a few pieces of colorful fabric from his pack, before proceeding to tear them up. SHRIIIIIIIIP  The dwarf seemed quite serious about his sudden crafts project as he set about grabbing a spare tent pole and some string. "Honestly, while it's stupid bein' so literal," he began, by way of explanation, "I 'ave a hard time feelin' old hurts or tearin' up in the first place. Ribbons with tears will jest have t' do instead. Nae that I'm bein' original. Th' idea's from me journeys through th' Trimannic city-states, where th' humans tend t' put up these high stakes along th' slopes o' the Cresting Wastes, all colorful pieces o' cloths dancin' in th' wind. They're s'posed t' be warnings to travellers and memorials t' all them what don't come back from travellin' the snowy valleys and peaks. Also s'posed t' ward off evil from comin' down th' high plateus, but that's jest local superstitions far as I ever could figure - go far enough up and plain ol' nothin' lives there. Anyways, it seemed a fittin' enough tradition t' copy. Fer those hopeless, hapless folks what die goin' down here, I'll make a little memorial full o' tears."  "Now, I'm goin' t' pack up me stash, and then... I 'ave t' go down ano'er damned set o' stairs where I lose all sense o' what's up down or rightways again, don't I?" ---------------------------- Arriving before the new doors, the dwarf paused, swaying and sweating. He looked cross-eyed over at Emille, opened his mouth, clamped it shut again, then slowly sank to his knees and hugged the floor. "Signs can mean anythin' at this point," he groaned from his prone position. "'s all th' same t' me. I had th' pick o' the last floor. Ye choose this time. I'll follow. Jest give me five minutes' t' savor this solid feckin' ground." Bit of a cop-out on the tears bit, but I didn't want to write a big thing for it. Molriir's still having a tough go going down the stairs. If Emille just wants to chat for a bit, Molriir's in the mood to go nowhere for a while. Scribbleykins fucked around with this message at 23:13 on Feb 13, 2018 |
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Feb 13, 2018 22:55
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Emille HP: 5/8 Initiative: 10 Defense: Parry[3d6] Pyromancy [3d6], Acrobatics [2d6], Adventuring Knowhow [1d6] Ignite/Quench [3d6], Radiance [2d6], Arquebus [1d6] The Master's Mark (chocolate): [spent/unspent] Items: +1 Ring (+1 to a single action every turn), Miniature Planet (Plop a full sized planet somewhere) Prides: Proud of Being Mentored The body of Marius awoke with a start, noting with some annoyance that the bloody manticore decided to have a go at his unconscious flesh. After shouting a few choice words at it, he retrieved the feed bucket and left the beast's chambers. He climbed the stairs back to his home proper, yanking the barbed spines from his skin and removing the empty phial of manticore antidote from his auto-injector. A few hundred thousand years ago, he had no need for such things. Hell, the manticore would've been lucky if even one needle pierced his hide. - - - "Take a deep breath and clench your toes. On the count of 3, unclench them. Hold perfectly still otherwise" Emille did as her master ordered. Apparently, reattaching shadows to the Unaware was harder than it looked. She stared at the floor and watched Marius's silhouette poke and prod at her shadow. It turned to look at her, "Can you do a jumping jack or something? I need to make sure everything's properly tethered." Emille obliged him and performed a full twisting layout, noting with some relief that her shadow didn't seem to do anything out of the ordinary. "Excellent. Everything is in order. How is your head?" "Much better, thanks.", she replied, "I think seeing that whole mess like you do helped me sort it out." "Good, good." With the matter of her lost shadow resolved, it was time for the best part of any adventurer's day: loot time. She briefly considered ways to subvert the Lady's demands, like poking herself in the eye or choosing to hear the wrong word, but screw it. Real tears came easily enough. She took a moment to weep tears of relief. The relief that came from dodging being permanently bonded to her adopted grandfather, the relief that came from narrowly avoiding being trapped in the Void like The Falling Man, the relief that came from having something that was lost returned. Things were looking up, so tears quickly turned to laughter. The toll paid, she looked carefully over the drone's leftover tools. "Marius.", Emille whispered, "What should I get?" "Get what you please, you did all the work. I'm not going to tell you what treasure to get." A pause. "And to head a potential hypothetical question off, I would get answers, but I doubt my questions would be answered." Hmm. Emille didn't really have any questions, and she could tell Marius wasn't interested in relaying his. The ticket to any plane was tempting, but she wasn't done here yet and she was pretty sure Marius could somehow set that up himself. The Vacation Beach Plane would have to wait. Eventually, the swordswoman's eyes settled on the automatic drill. When she first saw it in the drone's hands, it took her a second to figure out what it was. The drill bit was there, but where was the crank? Inside the device's housing, perhaps? She gingerly picked it up and pressed the button on it, the bit span wildly. Neat! There was something else, something she forgot to follow up on. "Master, when I first entered the floor, you said we both went through some strangeness. Are you alright?", she asked. "Hmm? Oh, right. I intended to wait until you were feeling better before I told you. On the Path, the thing I did, I think I somehow touched the *Source*. I've been getting younger by the day!" Emille blinked in disbelief; it was kind of hard to imagine Marius as looking anything other an almost completely desiccated husk, "That's incredible! So, how young are we talkin'?" "Still an old man, but at least a normal one. You have no idea how much I missed being able to eat regular food." Oh thank the gods. During her training, Emille always made sure to give the part of Marius's home that contained the nutrient solution vat a wide berth. "Now, is there anything else? I have a massive venom headache and I would like to lay down." "I'm not even going to ask. Those are the worst. Hope you rest well." "Before I do, I have one last thing to do." Marius's shadow peeled itself from the floor. It leveled a mailed finger at the spot he saw Her true face. It spoke calmly, with barely disguised contempt, "You. It seems my attempts to avoid your notice were futile, I shall hide no longer. I have a great many questions to ask when we next meet. I hope you are prepared for an accounting. But for now, I have only one question. Have we met before? When I saw your face, you seemed familiar to me. But everything feels familiar to me, in one way or another, so I will ask. If it aids your memory, you might remember my rather...distinct appearance. Such as having a massive scar down the right side of my face, like someone tried to cut me in half. My remaining eye is black as pitch. My skin is solid white, like paper. Some would say I have a few too many teeth. Does that ring any bells?" - - - Emille stumbled out onto the staircase after Molriir. She had to agree with the dwarf, walking around on solid ground was much less confusing than walking on nothing. "Don't worry about it. Messing with dungeons and turning their logic and devices against them is half the fun. Sometimes it turns out great and sometimes it turns out weird and you just sorta roll with it. What's this about Tower Magi?" She considered the signs in front of them carefully. "Well, I don't think I want anything to do with this one.", she motioned at the drowning sign, "Water makes it really hard for me to do any magic. And this one? I'm not sure if we'll have to save a baby from a monster or feed it to the monster. I want nothing to do with the latter. What do you think of the one with the giant bug?" tl;dr: looting the automatic drill
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Feb 16, 2018 22:10
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Molriir Hearthstone HP: 6/10 Initiative: 7 Skills: Educated Dwarf [3d6], Hearthstone [4d6]. Power: *Superior Quality Repeating Crossbow* [3d6] Defense: Unbelievably Stubborn [5d6] Inventory: Backpack o' stuff (delicious rations, oil, rum, etc.), Hearthstone Shield (+1d6 to a Defense against physical dangers - any nearby stone receives increased durability and tensile strength). Molriir rolled over and gazed blearily up at Emille. "Ye ken nae of Tower Magi? I suppose yer from some world where ye donnae have t' be frugal with yer powers. Or ye got yerself a right powerful patron. I'd quite like t' ken what's up with That Shadow what jumped out o' ye an spoke t' th' Lady - I sure hope ye 'aven't... atch, actually, I'll answer yer question afore we discuss that. Nae need t' be rude." Molriir propped himself up on his elbows and shuffled over to sit with his back against the wall with the doors. "Me homeworld - th' Orth - has got its ambient essences, much as yer place must. But they take stupid amounts o' effort fer most t' grasp. Outsiders t' our world like ye humans have it e'en harder. Ye'd have t' spend years practicin' jest t' see if ye got th' potential, and then decades more t' be able t' do more than conjure parlor tricks if ye don't specialize in particular ways. Them what manage t' successfully train themselves past that stage become Magi. Of these Magi, there's some what go farther and specialize in buildin' these Towers ta gather and channel essential energies, harvesting an' harnessing 'em. Th' Towers be a sort o' cheat. They act as a shortcut, or booster, or somethin' th' like, and lets Magi train Magi faster, empowers their spells, lets 'em pull off all sorts o' unusual and powerful castings that ordinary Magi would ne'er be able to pull off in a hunnerd lifetimes. It gets e'en more ridiculous if several Towers cooperate." The dwarf retrieved a flask from his hip and took a deep draught, then offered it to Emille - if she accepted it, she might be disappointed to find it mere spring water. "There's a land on Orth that's jest lousy with Tower Magi - they're pretty much in charge o'er there. Other than that, they're mostly a non-entity. Oh sure, some can be found in scattered settlements here an' there across th' three continents, but for the most part they tend t' stick to their main realm. Losin' most o' yer power and influence when away from home will do that to ye. Most of th' Tower Magi I e'er met in me travels jest kept t' schoolin' and book learnin', or researchin' magical matters both practical and theoretical t' become better Magi. They're a mixed-bag lot. Not bad or threatenin' fer th' most part, but a tad arrogant as they ken themselves t' be th' most powerful Magi on th' Orth, at least in their element. Some are fool enough t' still, say, experiment with exceptionally poor ideas, thinkin' themselves wise an' powerful enough fer it. Somethin' th' like must've happened here, with th' creation o' this Dungeon - only on a far larger scale, given th' way it seems t' be piercin' a thousand thousand realms and have excessively powerful bound devils servicin' it." A bit unsteadily, the dwarf climbed to his feet and turned around. He frowned at the signs, then shrugged and turned back to Emille. "I've still nae preference fer one or th' other, t' be frank. Th' signs be nae worthy clues t' the challenges within, and I feel we're gamblin' on assumptions either way. I will only say tha' bugs don't bother me, big or small."
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Feb 17, 2018 03:01
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[Emille, Molriir, Marius] Floor 5 - The (repaired) Halls of Sorrow  [Molriir] Molriir, emphatic to a fault, when granted a boon from a wealth of treasure both mundane and mystical, enlightening and cosmic in its span, chose instead of self-utility an answer. Not to mysteries arcane or personal, no, but to the nature of the The Lady and her motivations. A question to which, to the surprise of none, the reply was nothing, but this nothing held his grain of truth inside.  He faced nothing, saw nothing, was... something. A voice, his own, echoed his question though naught was there to echo it off. What was her hearts desire? What did she truly want?  "I don't want this." <Her words vibrated in nothing and the vibration took colour as it moved. Blue and red as the waves drifted apart, returning to the not-light as the words faded.>  "I'm tired, and it's all too much of a bother." <The thread of colour shook and spun into an impossible shape with far too many angles, every part of it shifting in hue and intensity with a palette beyond comprehension.>  "But I don't have a choice, now do I?" <Molriir, helplessly, paralyzed, existing, looked upon the least unpleasant facet of phenomena and felt undue familiarity. His gaze was drawn inward until the surface expanded to encompass the everything that he had ever known, in colours he had only dreamed of imagining, every moment of his life happening at once every decision ever taken leading up to the moment he entered the dungeon and then nothing, the vision fading back to the dark and the light and the pattern, in rhythm with his breath and heartbeat.>  "Because I can." <The shape of shapes exploded into shards of glass, each a fractal of the whole, each a puzzle piece fitting nowhere, containing one of everything, slightly different.>  "I also must."  "Lest what is missing be returned." --- [Emile] Emilie picked up the drill and as she waved it about was filled with certainty; that what she held was but was not what it had been; the memory of an ideal. The Drill That Would Pierce the Heavens. [Success! You have obtained the memory of an artifact. When in the future you decide you want to attack something, roll a 1d4. On a 1, it loses a charge without any benefit to you. On a 2-3, you deal one unavoidable damage together with whatever your attack does, even if it fails, and you lose a charge. On a 4, you deal one unavoidable damage in addition to your attack, even if it fails, and instead gain a charge. The memory has two charges. If at any point you should reach four charges, the piecing effect will instead become permanent, negating the need for rolls or charges. If at any point the charges reach 0, the memory will fade away.] -- [Marius]  "I mean, yeah, obviously, haven't you been paying attention? I'm like, omnipotent and stuff? Why wouldn't I know who you are? The real question is, do y-- No wait that's dumb, the real question is why should I care?" -- [Emillie, Molriir] The tears they shed or ripped floated away on a sudden breeze, setting themselves up solemnly around the hall. The flags of mourning silently flapping in the newly formed wind that was the adventuresses cry of of relief. Some time later, well away from the Hall of Sorrows, they pick the door marked with the sign of a giant, flying insect and are whimsically whisked on fluffy clouds away from their makeshift camp and into the general vicinity of... [Emillie, Molriir] [Floor 6 - The Face of Oblivion]  >> Tiny morsels of sustenance; fuel for flight, ruined! Ruined by the teeming of impulses of thought and the vibrations emitted from various orifices. The Mandibles are stayed from their crushing force, most vexing. Instead the offer is given; will they join the coming airing, to be one of the sky-is-maw, a chittering tooth or many-eyed vanguard? Or will they willingly submit to the Force, giving their juice to the new-spawn? << The message tickles in your brain, bypassing your ears entirely, but no sooner have you reeled from its delivery than you are forced into another double-take as a human-shaped figure steps out from behind it. This new creatures head is covered by a helmet and mask combo, and his words are accompanied by static, but still they are at least understandable and not nearly as intrusive.  "Ah hey, fresh recruits! Ready to bug out? Haha! My little attempt at humour, a real ice-breaker usually! Eh? eh? Anyway, moving on-, the Big Guy - oh don't mind him, he doesn't talk to your kind much - he is organizing an outing and you are invited. We currently have openings in scouting, hunting, guarding and being a snack - which will it be? -- Would the deepdelvers take the creatures offer, or would they resist? Only time will tell! Swedish Thaumocracy fucked around with this message at 19:11 on Feb 17, 2018 |
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Feb 17, 2018 16:45
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Cepi Yu, Proud Knightcerer of the Warped Table  Initiative: 13 HP: 10 Skills: Glitchweaving [5d6], Proud Knightcerer [2d6] Powers: Spear of Corruption [3d6]; Defense: Shield of Lag [5d6] Talent: Spent Items: Pocketful of Glitchies [3d6 Pet], Laser Cannon Voucher AI: Be suitably knightly, try not to die. Ah, it was SO CUTE! "So CUTE!", Cepi Yu proclaimed, "It couldn't possibly be a creature of EVIL!" Cepi focused hard to rectify this clear error. Swedish Thaumocracy posted:H̳̹̼͎͚̱̞̉͘Ả͎̣͕̬̜̗H̡̭̙͈̻̜̮ͣͤ̉̂̒͆Ạ̴͈̮̮̻͙̾͊ͪͫḢ̼ͯA̰̹̪͚ͨͬ̔̄̓̎̚͢ ̠͔̩̗͙̜͍̽ͣͭͮ̒ͥ̚N̸̪̗̳̥̣ͥ̔̓̚O̱̫͚̻ͣ͛̀͊ͯͅP͎͓͑̊̾E̝̭͔̳̞̐̆ͣ̎̔ͬ Wait that wasn't right. The knightcerer scrunched up her face for a bit, before settling down in a defensive posture whilst summoning some of her emancipated allies to push through the bridge with. Rewrite the Matrix: 1d4= 1 Buffing Shield of Lag with Glitchweaving to avoid a horrible fate: 5d6-5d6= 1 SUCCESS! Pet Action: Pocketful of Glitchies will secure our advance through the bridge: 3d6= 8
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Feb 17, 2018 19:01
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Emille HP: 5/8 Initiative: 14 Defense: Parry[3d6] Pyromancy [3d6], Acrobatics [2d6], Adventuring Knowhow [1d6] Ignite/Quench [3d6], Radiance [2d6], Arquebus [1d6] The Master's Mark (chocolate): [spent/unspent] Items: +1 Ring (+1 to a single action every turn), Miniature Planet (Plop a full sized planet somewhere), The Drill That Would Pierce the Heavens (2/4 charges) Prides: Proud of Being Mentored Emille leaned against one of the stairwell's walls, taking a swig from Molriir's flask. It was just ordinary water, but that was fine; it was refreshing and friends don't let friends dungeon delve drunk anyway. "Thanks. Catch!", she tossed him the flask, "In exchange, want a smoke? You look like you could use one." Regardless of his answer, Emille took one out for herself, lighting the tip with her will. She took a puff and explained the subject of her teacher to Molriir, "The shadow is my teacher and granddad, Marius. He knows this shadow magic that lets you be in two places at once, so he's both here and not really here. Sure, he looks and, hell, even dresses pretty sinister, but there's nothing to be worried about. He's mostly here because he's got some past history with this place and he wanted to look after me because I don't have a talent." She smirked at the last bit, "Not that I need it, but I'm not the type to refuse help if it's offered to me." She nodded through the dwarf's tale of his home plane, keeping some of her lessons on metaphysics in mind. "Sounds like you come from a low magic world. I'm guessing your Magi build their towers to tap and amplify ley lines. I don't think this mess has anything to do with them; this is bigger. When the entrance appeared in my world, each and every single ley line in the area suddenly changed direction and converged here. That is something that is Not Supposed to Happen." She lowered her voice conspiratorially, "Plus, Marius claims to have come here or some place like here when he was young and that there are stakes of enormous magnitude. What exactly they are, he didn't elaborate. But, I could hear an undercurrent of dread in his voice when he spoke of them. That's...rare from him." "That reminds me. You zoned out for a while after you asked the Lady that question. What happened?" - - - Emille marveled at the Big Guy. She'd never seen a bug this big! Well, there was a giant scorpion that was almost as big a few years back but it technically didn't count anyway. "Ooh, can I be a hunter?", she asked. Providing for it couldn't be too tricky; she was pretty sure giant insects ate most anything. However, whatever her quarry, it apparently would have to be enough to feed a swarm. As she looked around the new 'floor', the first question that came to mind was one of scale. Were she and Molriir really small or was everything else really big? From what she could tell, they were on a concrete slab perched on the branch of an impossibly large tree. A staging area, perhaps? She turned around, looking for the tree's trunk. In the distance, she could see it. The swarm's hive. It looked like an amalgamation of several different kinds of bug's nest, with the occasional artificial light or addition jutting out. She could hear a faint hint of buzzing and chittering even from far away. She took a confident look down, towards the ground. They seemed pretty high up, but since neither she nor Molriir seemed to be having problems breathing, it couldn't be THAT high up. Emille was practically giddy with excitement; she had heard from other adventurers that getting shrunk down was quite an experience. A rare one at that, as there is almost no practical reason to do such a thing, as nobody wants tiny treasure or to be stepped on. To make the most of this, the young pyromancer decided to hunt at ground level. She addressed both Molriir and the Big Guy's humanoid friend, "I'm going to see if there's anything on the ground. If I find something, I'll send a flare up. Got it?" She set off towards the trunk, passing under the Hive. Although there seemed to be a lift down, she decided to do things the hard way. She slowly and carefully climbed and jumped her way down the bark of the tree. Action 1: Acrobatics[2d6] to jump down the tree!: 2d6+1 8 Once she was at the bottom, she rested for a moment before looking for tracks. It wasn't long before Emille found some long, spindly tracks that seemed to drag along the ground in some places. A giant beetle, perhaps? She performed some pyromancy to aid her in the hunt, attuning one of her eyes to be able to see in the thermal spectrum and quenching her scents and the sound of her footsteps. Action 2: Pyromancy[3d6] to start the hunt: 3d6 11 paper bag with a face fucked around with this message at 08:53 on Feb 18, 2018 |
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Feb 17, 2018 23:23
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Stefania, Queen of the Curse Imps Initiative: 16 HP: 8/10 Skills: Imptourage [4d6], Penumbral Sorcery [2d6] Powers:Hellfire [4d6]; Defense: Demonic Destiny [5d6] Proud: Cooperation [1d6] Talent:Available Items:None AI: Solve tasks with imps, if someone tries to hurt her or a friend, use Talent to flip that. Alright, enough was enough. There was a point where 'trusting in your friends to save you' turned into 'trying to let them do all the work", and that just wasn't going to fly if she was going to become the Demon King. She believed in her friends, but it was clearly time to show them why they needed to believe in her. The time for subtlety was over, and it looked like Viviene had the same idea. Stefania stared at the overhead view of the map that was currently displayed on the screen, small icons denoting her fellow delvers' locations close to the entrance. Sticking a tongue out in concentration, she transmitted the image, and an intense mental command, to her imps. BURN IT ALL! BLAZE A TRAIL STRAIGHT TO THE BRIDGE! REDUCE ALL THAT WOULD OPPOSE YOU TO ASH IN YOUR WAKE! Message sent, she exhaled. Nothing left to do but watch what came next. She had a feeling that there was going to be a lot of burning involved. BLAZE A TRAIL: 4d6+5d6+1d6 40
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Feb 18, 2018 00:43
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Molriir Hearthstone HP: 6/10 Initiative: 15 Skills: Educated Dwarf [3d6], Hearthstone [4d6]. Power: *Superior Quality Repeating Crossbow* [3d6] Defense: Unbelievably Stubborn [5d6] Inventory: Backpack o' stuff (delicious rations, oil, rum, etc.), Hearthstone Shield (+1d6 to a Defense against physical dangers - any nearby stone receives increased durability and tensile strength). Floor 6 - Before the Doors "Powerful gramps ye got, gel. T' travel across th' gulf o' realities, e'en as a shade o' yerself, be th' stuff o' legends and th' domain o' absent gods - and devils. And nae talents? I'd say ye've talents aplenty," commented the dwarf, gesturing at her casual use of fire magic and revealing his lack of knowledge of true Talents. He grimaced as she countered with a question about his question. "What happened? Hooh... I suppose I'll try t' process it fer ye," responded the dwarf, scratching at his beard. He accepted a cigarette from Emille with a grateful nod, and seemed to appreciate the smoke flowing from his nostrils while he sucked on the cig and gathered his thoughts. "I heard th' Lady's voice, echoin' across all o' nothin'. A vision came afore me eyes or in me mind. I saw somethin' - a mess of colors that I think was s'posed t' be all o' everythin'. Somehow I found meself within it, and I relived me life - everythin' - e'ery last immaculate detail, like a gem polished t' a mirror sheen. 'twas as if I hadn't truly lived it th' first time. Then th' pile o' everythin' shattered, or exploded, into a mess o' shards - like wha' we jest went through - an endless variation o' them, each seperate, but once part o' that whole. Last, I saw a great Tower risin' above it all, bursts o' colors bleedin' into it." He sighed, letting a stream of smoke sidle past his lips. "I can only begin' t' guess, but I think based on what I heard an' saw that th' Lady reckons herself some sort o' God or Authority o' all - one tha' is tired and o'erwhelmed. She donnae want t' do her thing any more. Yet she's worried o' lettin' go, on account o' that Tower comin' back if she does - or somethin' returnin', at least. That's all she told me, in her strange manner. I can hazard a guess that all o' this Dungeon stuff might jest be her lookin' fer a solution t' her dilemma. Eggs and omelettes, p'raps - throw enough sorry sots at enough challenges across all o' the realms and maybe one - or enough - o' 'em will rise t' whichever occasion is required. I'm sort o' surprised. Nae gonna lie - I was expectin' a somewhat more sinister motivation." He stumped the cig and rose to his feet, grinding the fallen embers to dust beneath a boot. "Though it be a tall tale, so who can ken th' truth o' it? Especially when gods be so fond o' makin' their own truths. That said, th' whole thing seems enough o' a match fer yer gramp's words that I think I'd like t' hear more o' these 'enormous stakes' he spoke o'." ------------------------ Floor 6 - The Face of Oblivion "A Host?" Molriir's eyebrows rose slightly, before he stepped up to offer a half-salute to the helmeted man. A wry smile cut across his cheeks. "Greetings, ye cricket's coldcracker. I'm Molriir Hearthstone and me and me friend be strangers t' this land, as if ye cannae tell. Mind tellin' us aught of th' situation we been dropped in? I can reckon ye serve, or serve with, th' bug-mind, and that our choice, on th' face o' it, appear t' be simple - service for life or a life-givin' death. Unless yer big friend's bein' facetious, and if they are, I apologize. It's been a long journey and I'm nae at me best, so feel free t' bite me head off if I speak out o' turn - or don't, as tha' was a joke. Ye'd find me rather tough and stringy fare, anyway." Hearthstone to encourage either bug or man to speak more of the sky-is-maw, their goals and methods: 4d6 17 As he spoke, he gazed about at the impressive hive-colony towering in the background. Then he snorted, his smile broadening as Emille quickly and curtly settled on her job, and simply leapt off into the jungle, all a-eager to test her mettle on a Hunt. He cut his conversation short soon enough, claiming he'd Join Emille in her Hunts, and that he hoped to be able to aid her with the weight of his own skillsets. Dwarf Educated to Buff Emille's thermal Pyromancy: 3d6-3d6 -1 Failure!
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Feb 22, 2018 22:34
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[Cat, Nezera, Cepi-Yu, Vivienne] The Trial of Challenges   "Wait, what was that you said, Kommander?"  "I said It may "... Are you sure that's safe?" "Absolutely not, Yim. That's why I'm locked in this box and why the deep delvers are out there, fighting it!"  *Raahr* "Right! You heard the man, Lady and Gentlentities, deep delvers and fellow Kobolds! Without further ado, lets play the Trial Of Challenges!!!" --- The Deepdelvers tensed, nerves on edge as the swamp boiled around them. Cepi Yu looked almost apologetic, but took courage as her people flowed out from nowhere to aid them. But before any of them could act... You Are What You Eat: 1d4 1 vs Cepi Yu Involuntary Surgery: 1d4 4 vs Target Choice: (1) Cat, (2) Nezera, (3)Vivienne: 1d3 1 Sugar Coat It: 1d4 4 vs Target Choice: (1) Nezera, (2)Vivienne: 1d2 2  Quick as lightning and twice as ferocious, a storm of snakes lashes from the churning waters. No, not snakes. Hydra. Three heads upon long necks, wholly independent yet intimately connected, all brimming with ill understood power. The first smashed into the Knightcerer, swallowing her whole. The second detached from its previous host, shrinking beyond sight, entering the cat's left nostril if the sudden pawing at its cute, button-like nose was anything to go by. The third caught Vivienne in a constricting grip, its every pore exuding an orange, sickly-sweet smelling liquid, until she was entirely encased in it. -- [Cepi Yu] The first head opened its jaw to find no succulent meats in between its fangs; the fairy was somewhere else entirely. Had been there all along. It was sure it had caught her, and that certainty proved its downfall. Without mercy, a stream of Glitchies swarmed over it, removing the head from the neck and cauterizing the wound to boot - the Glitchies were well aware of mythical beasts and the dangers they posed, and disposed of the remains post-haste. [Successailure? Multiple mint talent failure interactions - in the end you do nothing much, but neither does the Hydra. Your people capitalize on this blunder by removing one of the heads permanently, reducing the Hydra to two!] -- [Cat]  Its in your blood. The pest, the predator, whatever it was. It is inside you and it is never coming out. It is in your mind, whispering to you, mimicking your inner voice of reason. Telling you dark secrets. Taking control. Whatever your prior ambitions, you may now count yourself amongst their illustrious band. Replace a skill with any skill held by a previous member of Project Hydra. There may be other effects down the line. -- [Vivienne]  You shiver inwardly as you feel your chakras invaded, turned and tuned from their original balance to an extreme; you wail and gnash as years of experience in the arts of combat and destruction are pushed way from you with unassailable force, though part of you relishes the incoming mercy. From this point onward, you will no longer be capable of inflicting harm. -- With one head down and two to go, the Deep Delvers shake of the invading Hydra and try to push onwards. [Vivienne] Still soaking wet, befuddled and squeezed, the Enchantress tried to weave stronger the flames of the fire imps under Stefanias control. Alas, fire no longer did her bidding and so her spell fizzled away without fanfare. Unsure what else to do, she called upon the winds to carry her and Cat to safety, and found that they were much more accommodating to her commands then ever before. Casting Levitate on Self (and Cat on shoulder): 5d6: 20 vs Swamp Traps: 3d6 = 10 = 1 rank of Success! -- [Cat] It was imperative that the Cat - and the project - survived. Its flight from this floor would go unopposed, at least if the other boardmembers could help it. Sinuous humps rose from the depths, and the Cat leapt from shore to shore without issue. Leap to safety!: 5d6 22 + Leap Assistance: 1 = 23 vs Swamp Traps: = 16 = 1 Rank of Success! -- [Nezera] The Vampire pounced at the weakened target, but found no purchase for her fangs. In its stead, she found a body receptive of wailing, and she took the opportunity to beat out a few frustrations that had built up along the way. Bop a Hydra out of the way when it gets close with Unnatural Strength=19 vs Made of Snake: 11 = Success! 2 damage dealt! With steelhard claws she ripped and tore into the beast, removing flesh and bone and muscle and organs in a shower of gore. The Hydra for its part seemed equally adept at her at regenerating, and to her horror she saw a new head forming in betwixt the miasma she had just so recently created. It rose to meet her [Success! You deal two damage to the hydra! Reversed! From the wound another head is sprouted! The Hydra once more has three heads! On the bright side, it doesn't immediately kill you. So there is that. -- [Stefania] You encourage the imps to *burn* and they do so with glee. You feel the heat even inside your metal prison, and the liquid below you bubbles menacingly in response. BLAZE A TRAIL: 4d6+5d6+1d6 = 40 vs Swamp Traps: = 8 = Success! Overkill! 5 ranks of success!  -- "You smell that?" "What, sir?" "Napalm. Smells like... victory." "For the deep delvers, perhaps! With 9 additonal points scored, they make it through the second round without issue, giving their companion a precious second shot at life. But will it be enough to carry them through the final round?" "I sure hope not, Yim, or I'm in serious trouble! Fortunately for me, the third round is all about getting *them* into trouble, and me a chance at escaping!" "Indeed it does, Kommander. For whilst they navigated that treacherous swamp deftly enough, they have still to deal with the Hydra! And might I say it looks especially angry today, after being denied a meal and being torn to shreds!" "To right, to right. But we have something for our precious baby deep delvers, to even the playing field!" "And what is that, pray tell?" "One War-Hound Class Imperial Titan, fresh from the assembly line at the Forgeworld of Mars!"  "This wondrous machine comes equipped with every killing-thing you could possibly dream of, and many more besides! The only thing it doesn't have is a machine-sprit, leaving it utterly useless unless the delvers can figure out the manual controls in time!" "Giving the Hydra enough time to recuperate and attack?" "And me enough time to skedaddle with the keys!" "An ingenious plan, Kommander. But what about that city?" "Couldn't very well have a giant mech/monster battle without an interesting backdrop, now could we? Seeing as the swamp has been so thoroughly eradicated, I saw fit to have the tech-wizards over at magengineering whip up a quick portal to none other then our very own Nezeras home-plane! Smack-dab in the middle of her capital city no less."  "How gruesome! But what makes you think the Vampire will care one whit what happens to her mind-slaved populace?" "Ah, but we made sure to drop the Hydra right next to her biggest wardrobe-warehouse. The one were she keeps all her best outfits!" "Devious, Kommander. Utterly devious." "Thank you, Yim. It has been a pleasure. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll just activate this timed explosive and run off into the alleyways below, secure in the knowledge that I have once again bested that dreadful bloodsucker." "I'll be sure to put those words on your tombstone, Kommander. These delvers are growing on me! Now, lets see what they get up to!" -- [Cat, Cepi-Yu, Vivienne, Nezera] You find yourself in a world much like the ones you came from, a city filled with life and laughter. Well, so much for that laughter. People cower in fear as you materialize out of thin air, and run for cover as they see Nezeras blooded form stride out carrying an armfull of guts. They instantly regret fleeing, as a truly ginormous Hydra comes crashing out of the sky into the middle of town, and instead prostrate themselves before you and their previous, current-even, Empress.  "Please! It will kill us all! Do something!" -- Welcome to the third and final round of the Trial of Challenges! You may go about this as you please, but I would not recommend fighting the Hydra unless you are safely within the War-Hound Titan first. To operate the War-hound, simply state your intention and use your actions as you would normally do, except flavoured for giant-mecha Kaiju antics. Be aware that collateral damage is a thing, though not one you should be especially concerned about unless you really care about that sort of thing. You may also spend your time tracking down the Kommander, whom has hidden himself somewhere within the city. The Hydra will actively oppose this, however, so for best results you may want to consider keeping it occupied!
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Feb 28, 2018 00:22
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 Countess Nezera Amaris Initiative: 11 HP: 3/10 Skills: Supernatural Movement [3d6], Charming Gaze [3d6] Powers: Unnatural Strength [5d6] Defense: Traumatic Regeneration [4d6] Talent: Items: None Prouds: Bootstraps(+2d6 when taking charge) AI: Non-hostile- Charm non-PC targets to do tasks for me. Hostile- Punch the hell out of enemies. The Countess Nezera Amaris let out the deepest of sighs, the ever familiar grovelling of her subjects an all too poignant reminder of why she'd left to go have fun elsewhere. She'd be happy to let this monstrosity rampage through a city, after all what was a few more hundred years of raising up a new one to someone who could live forever? But while she was here she figured she may as well make use of the resources afforded her. Having made her decision Nezera wanders off from the gathered Delvers and approaches a nearby square of her city, a mass of begging thralls in tow. In the common square she speaks, the masses hanging on every word "The whole and untested must gather, attend and serve your Countess, I must speak with the city." The crowd around her grows quiet and the people begin to sort themselves out. After a moment it's clear this is a scene that has happened many times before, the edge of the square is lined by those missing extremities, while each corner of the square has a mass of fresh limbed people, all sitting around matched basins. Without any more words Nezera goes to the grim work of hacking at her people with the small blade on her back, unnatural strength severing limbs left and right at a brisk pace. Within moments blood has begun to fill the basins and trickle down into grooves carved in the streets, funneling toward a platform in the center of the square on which Nezera now stood. Once Nezera confirms that the enchantments laid into her speaking platform have been powered, she gestures to a handful of nervous attendants "See to it that the donors are tended to." Thralls dismissed she places a hand on a pillar jutting from the ground and places her forehead to it and issues commands, her orders transmitted across the whole of the city "Your Countess has returned and you will obey. There is a Kobold invader hidden among our city and I desire his head. You will find him and you will destroy him." She gives a pause as she lets the supernatural weight of her commands sink in before continuing. The Kobold is in possession of a key that I must have, you will bring it to me by any means necessary." Her demands made, Nezera holds out a hand as she moves to sit on open air. Without missing a beat her citizens have places a goblet filled from the basins in her hand and a seat has been commandeered from a nearby home and placed perfectly beneath her so she doesn't fall. Sipping languidly from her goblet, Nezera stretches out her other hand expectantly, awaiting the delivery she has so kindly requested. quote:Action 1: Charming Gaze vs my populace: Ordering them to hunt down and kill the Kobold Kommander: 18
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Feb 28, 2018 01:15
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Cat A wave washed over Cat's mind, twisting, changing, altering her very being to something else. Something greater. A part of a greater whole. Shadows of concepts offered themselves up, engineering? What is is that. Missile tubes? No. A whispering. God of darkness and secrets... Pah, what secrets did a cat care for! What darkness was not already reflected in her midnight fur! No! Maybe... they could come to a deal?  Ambitious Business-Cat AI action: Claim things as HP: 6/10 (1/1HP, 5/9 lives) Skills: Feline instincts 5D6, Dele-Gating 3D6 Powers: Stalking 2D6 Defences: Cat reflexes 5D6 Initiative: 18 Vanilla Talent: I meant to do that. From her seat in the captain's chair of the mech, Cat addressed the board in her mind space. "Thank you for the opportunity to join such an illustrious organisation. I am pleased, no, honoured to accept the position of CEO and Chair-cat of the HYDRA project. We must move rapidly to business, we are suffering from a major dilution in brand identity from highly visible competitors entering the marketplace of ideas. I believe a direct approach is needed, to ensure continued market penetration." Cease and desist the HYDRA with a piercing magitek laser: 9d6 32 Some grumblings, dissent from the others in the board room mind space. CEO? Chair-cat? Who authorised this? A predatory grin crept across Business-Cat's face. "Oh, I'm sorry, you though this was a merger? No, this is a hostile takeover." Feline reflexes to quickly seize control of project HYDRA: 5d6 13 WereGoat fucked around with this message at 17:36 on Feb 28, 2018 |
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Feb 28, 2018 14:07
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Name: Vivien Lumičre Initiative: 16 Health: 7/10 HP Background: Vivien is a high disciple of the Divine Order of the Pristine Depths, a healing-based faith devoted to Morgan Le Fey, the Lady in the Lake and High Enchantress of Arthurian Legend. AI Actions: Heal allies, Defend weaker creatures, Cure the sick and maimed, Enchant party's weapons and defenses, Eliminate dangers Skills: Enchantment:5d6, Curative Magic: 4d6 Powers: Holy Smite: 2d6 Defenses: Aegis of Camelot: 4d6 Talent: Status: Sugar-Coated Chakras: Cannot inflict harm. In one moment, Vivien had been facing down the fearsome Hydra with Cat sitting upon her shoulder, both of them poised for anything. In the next moment, everything wrong seemed to happen all at once. The multi-headed beast lunged precisely in their direction just as Cat leapt from Vivien's shoulder. Cat was somehow snagged out of the air by one of the hydra's many mouths just as another hydra head lashed its neck out past Vivien and looped itself around her, wrapping her up in its constricting grasp. As the snake-like appendage tightened itself around Vivien it exuded a thick orange syrup that seeped from between its scales that was gooey and incredibly sticky to the touch. The adhesive, sickly-sweet fluid began welling up in volume and growing thicker around her, even as she suffocated from the hydra's vice-like grip. Vivien's entire body was soaked through and through with the stuff, and as the thick liquid swelled over her head she took a final, crushing breath and made a fervent prayer to the gods above for a painless release... Encased in that sweet, sticky darkness, Vivien could feel the life being strangled out of her just as something terrible happened to the hydra that caused it to thrash and flail and let her go. With a wet sound, she fell to the ground in a viscous, sticky heap and took a deep, rasping breath to fill her lungs. The Hydra was gone, vanished or else moved elsewhere. Judging from the paved roads beneath her, they had been magically teleported somewhere else. Another part of the Dungeon floor? Vivien pulled herself to her hands and knees, coated in the tacky orange goop. She coughed and sputtered and gagged, ultimately spitting up a glob of thick syrup that was trying to slide its way down her throat. Her chakras had been utterly defiled by this orange sickly-sweet viscous goo and - was all this caramel? Vivien dragged a fingertip across her sticky cheek and gave the goo and an experimental taste. Her eyes lit up - delicious! Vivien's chakras are Sugar-Coated! She is so sweet she cannot harm a thing, even through indirect means! Vivien took stock of her new surroundings. She grabbed a goggle-eyed passerby by the shoulders with her sticky hands and asked the man a couple questions. With some magical assistance, things became plain: She was in some kind of city filled with a healthy population of vampiric thralls - she could tell that by the empty gaze in the man's eye and the sunken pallor in his flesh alone. They were all running about in a semi-panic, fleeing one thing and searching for something or other. The Hydra and the Titan were to be avoided at all costs and the Kobold Kommander was to be apprehended. The thrall's leader was the Countess, named Nezera Amaris... now where had Vivien heard that name before? Vivien tapped into the magical links of the mindthrall standing before her and quickly realized that the vampire he served was none other than that Vampire girl that Vivien had been traveling with all this time. Small world! Even though they'd never been formally introduced, Vivien realized she had a newfound respect for this undead being named Nezera. After all, it's not every day you get to say you've fought alongside a Countess! Where had she gone, anyway? Vivien had last seen Nezera limping off in the direction of the city center. Vivien decided to send some of her restorative healing energies in the vampire's direction. The girl had been seriously injured over the course of this Dungeon's delving, and here she was, no doubt standing before her people as their leader having just returned in the middle of a cataclysm. Maybe the Countess could benefit by having a little more bounce in her step! Curative Magic: Restoring the Health of the Vampire Countess Nezera: 4d6 12 Vivien turned suddenly at the sound of the Titan approaching from behind her. As soulless machines go, its scale was staggering. When the pilots' hatch opened and she realized it was full of friendlies (and that there was a seat inside for her) she eased somewhat, but only slightly. Vivien, still soaked in the sticky sugar-sap, climbed the column of rungs along the side of the titan's leg and pulled herself inside the hatch that led inside. She plopped down on a leather seat and swung herself in front of her section's sigil console. It reminded her of the magitek buttons in the war room. Everything was going to get sticky if she touched anything, though... Oh well - there was no helping it: there were lives at stake! From her console, Vivien decided to cast a spell designed to effectively increase the Titan's evasion. "Here goes nothing!" she cried as she flipped the switch. Enchanting: Shimmering Aura on the War-Hound Class Imperial Titan: 5d6 22 All at once, the Titan gave off a shimmering haze of refracted light that disguised its exact position of the mighty mech. The magical aura gives off a series of confusing, distorted, and scrambled images, which makes it hard for enemies to score precise hits.
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Mar 2, 2018 03:11
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Cepi Yu, Proud Knightcerer of the Warped Table Initiative: 13 HP: 10 Skills: Glitchweaving [5d6], Proud Knightcerer [2d6] Powers: Spear of Corruption [3d6]; Defense: Shield of Lag [5d6] Talent: Spent Items: Pocketful of Glitchies [3d6 Pet], Laser Cannon Voucher AI: Be suitably knightly, try not to die. Ah! They were inside a GIANT Knight! Well, it was true that to Cepi and her three inch tall self almost everyone was giant, but this was particularly giant. A GigaGiant. A GigaKnight..! "Giganight!" Cepi loudly proclaimed inside the cockpit, "I impart upon you a KNIGHTLY QUEST to accompany me to fight a FELL BEAST! Take my lance and my shield, and carry them as your own for this ordeal!!" The, Cepi accessed her Inventory, as well as the Titan's Inventory, and swapped the lance and shield she was carrying to the Titan's weapon slot. Somehow, they were the perfect size. Well, to Cepi it made perfect sense, since obviously all the gear you equip is the right size. That's just how it works! Well, currently it wasn't working particularly well (The Gigaknight was apparently now very used to spears...) but still. Perhaps he should focus on defensive combat, for now? Buffing Spear of Corruption with Glitchweaving: 5d6-3d6= -8 FAILURE! Buffing Shield of Lag with Glitchweaving to fight defensively: 5d6-5d6= -9 FAILURE!
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Mar 7, 2018 20:43
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[Emillie, Molriir] [Floor 6 - The Face of Oblivion]  Whilst the vast countenance of 'Big Guy' by its very nature demanded their attention, it is what 'Pilot' said that was truly crucial for for their survival. Molriir took diplomatic point, engaging Pilot and his... cohort in friendly conversation. Scribbleykins posted:
Hearthstone to encourage either bug or man to speak more of the sky-is-maw, their goals and methods: 4d6 17 vs Telecommunicative Hive Mind: 3d6+1d6 17 = Draw! Draws go to players! Success! Molriir heard a not so strange buzzing and saw a few lights blink on Pilots helmet, lights which seemed to caus the man to freeze up for a second, as if lost in thought. When his reverie ended, he patted his own bug on its thorax emphatically as he started to explain... "Oh yeah haha, forgot you guys used air vibrations for coms there for a second. Imagine the buzz THAT one generated! Aaaaanyway, as Big Guy said; we're the 'The Sky-Is-Maw'. We're a photon-wave based telecommunicatively hive-linked collective of cyberbiotechnological symbiotic omnivores. Big Guy over there is the local designated Nexus and the rest of us are 'technically Nodes' - what that means is, we all have a say, but Big Guy makes the decisions. Capiche? Anyway, I'm your basic troubleshooter (find trouble; then shoot it) but we take all sorts yeah, as long as whatever you're doing worth its weight in fuel. Efficiency is a big thing around these parts, especially after the last sundering, though that was zero dot six megacycles back now that we think about it. Anyway that's way out of RAM, what we have planned for this cycle is a big push against the technorat / cyberhawk alliance over in the Sea of Lights Refracted, targeting mostly their organic refineries, though spectroanalysis indicates there might be some valuable salvage in the area as well. So, you said you were hunters yeah? That's good, last cycle ended in a near deadmate when 47.967% of the collective voted to eat the other 52.033% should the ruinous period last longer than expected. Suffice it to say secure sustenance became priority 1 after that! First wing will need to bag a mole of foodbugs just to feed the crystal chrysallisi, so whatever you can scavenge will be a great help. Since your new and all you get to fly chipper over there, a drone. Now he ain't the fastest bug in the bin but hes got an eye for treats, and that's what you'll be looking for - don't get in over your heads now, roger? Over and out." His strange, static filled voice ceases almost as soon as it began, and he turns around and grabs his own giant-insect by the scruff of its abdomen, revealing a seamless, if extremely gross looking quasi-metallic-doorway with the tap-tap-tap of his fingers. You shudder and look over to where he indicted your own bug would be..  You are pretty sure bugs should have heads and not windows, but the Dungeon has been very strange so far and you think little off it beyond the initial shock. Entering the bug proved much easier than anticipated, as it let down a meat-ramp from its posterior the moment you came close enough. The insides are frankly just unpleasant; there are metallic walls covered in living veins that pump what appears to be liquid ice through the entire... ship? bee? The entire thing, and the whole thing stinks something fierce. Perhaps the reason why Pilot wore a gasmask? You pass a few translucent membranes on your way to what signs indicate to be the central processing unit, and you get the distinct feeling that it sticks to you on the way. Like you are suddenly wearing another micron-thin layer of skin, covering your entire body, armour and all. You take a seat on what can only be described as meat chairs, sinking into their soft structure via some very loud, organic suction. Thusly grossed out, you turn your gaze at the window in front of the chairs, and as you do so it lights up and becomes see-through, though various lights play across its surface akin to what you saw on the consoles in the War-Room. Statistics, and lots of them. Acrobatics[2d6] to jump down the tree!: 2d6+1 8 vs Biomechanical Control Station: 2d6 6 = Success! Being already aquatinted with the symbols and runes, it does not take you much time to get the rest of the systems going, and soon you are rewarded for your efforts with the hum of the exterior plasteel wings revving up to '1364 rpm' whatever that means. Forcing the 'chipper' of the branch, you take a dive downwards, for the first time seeing what sort of a place you have ended up in this time.  Action 2: Pyromancy[3d6] to start the hunt: 3d6 = 11 vs Made of Shrubbery: 3d6 16 = Failure! ...and almost immediately your ship-thing starts shaking uncontrollably, as a roar the volume of a volcano erupts from nearby. Your window lights up with a thirteen different warning runes and soon a picture-in-picture display pops up with detailed description of the local disturbance:  SNAEK.EXE: 4d6 = 16 vs... ? The giant serpent, a two-story townhouse compared to your cart-sized-ship hurls itself at you; Emillie scrambles to fling a firebolt but finds the floor too unsteady for aiming, and so she must make a quick decision. Do you A; Perform a daring mid-air snake-tackle, taking the brunt of the attack onto yourself [16 vs Parry, with one damage guaranteed?] to ensure Molriir and Chipper get away safely? Leaving you stranded. Do you B; Let 'chipper' take the incoming hit whilst you dive back at the controls, hoping the ship survives the encounter long enough that you can both get away? (16 vs Chippers Armour: 3d6: 2 health.) Do you C; Abandon ship; taking no damage, letting chipper take damage un-opposed and leaving Molriir to his fate? (16 vs Chippers Armour: 3d6: 2 health.) After you have decided, you may take your next actions as normal. If Chipper is destroyed; anyone still inside will take unavoidable damage depending on height-above-ground (currently 1 damage worth) and any overkill damage dealt by the SNAEK.EXE As for Molriir; you must decide wether you: A; Stay at the controls, hoping chipper survives and preparing evasive or offensive maneuvers for the next turn as you see fit? B; Abandon Ship, taking no damage, but becoming stranded. C; Perform a counter-charge, guaranteeing 'Chipper' is destroyed but also netting you one free attack against SNAEK.exe during the next turn?
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Mar 10, 2018 21:26
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Stefania, Queen of the Curse Imps Initiative: 16 HP: 8/10 Skills: Imptourage [4d6], Penumbral Sorcery [2d6] Powers:Hellfire [4d6]; Defense: Demonic Destiny [5d6] Proud: Cooperation [1d6] Talent:Available Items:None AI: Solve tasks with imps, if someone tries to hurt her or a friend, use Talent to flip that. Stefania frowned a bit as the other delvers ran about. The tiny one... Cepi Yu, was it? She'd had the sense to try and make the giant... golem... start fighting, but by the look of things she wasn't meeting with too much success. Not that people were lazing around, exactly, but it really felt like they were missing the point. Now, Stefania didn't have any idea how to make the golem go, and the imps had even less of an idea, but there were an awful lot of buttons around. Surely, one of them had to get it started, right? It stood to reason if you just pressed them all you'd get there eventually. Hopefully it'd be in time to save everyone else (and by extension, herself). IMProvised Controls: 4d6+1d6 14 (5 from proud if this doesn't qualify as helping. Not the greatest roll!)
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Mar 15, 2018 23:37
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[Cat, Nezera, Cepi-Yu, Vivienne] The Trial of Challenges The City of Neles As the Hydra rears its ugly heads, raging at the heavens and crushing buildings underfoot, the Deep Delvers hurry to put their plans in motion. Somewhere along the calamity they know a single kobold is hiding, holding in claw clenched fist the object of their and captured Stefanias salvation. In the centre of town, the hub of the Imperial Bloodworks stands, a deep scarlet fountainious monument to the pinnacle of vampiric civil engineering. At the base of the grandest statute of herself, surrounded by ever pouring life rushing to her from all corners of her realm, the countess Nezera stands monologueing triumphantly over her subjugated mind slaved people. What mortal folly, to invade the very heart of her realm, the seat of her power! What crass unblemished idiocy! The sheer gall, of Kommander, of Hydra, of Dungeon, of Lady to so callously challenge her rightfully conquered place!! Her merciless eyes, pupils like fangs, veritably screamed with all the colours of magic, her ravaged form rebuilding itself from the lives of her citizens with a little help from the magic of her unusual ally, the noble Camelotian Arch Enchantress and Healer, lady Vivienne. There she stood, once a barley sentient beast barley holding back her primal hunger, now a radiant noble woman in flowing dress and perfect stature. Her jaws aligned, her chest unholey, even the torn, burnt, melted, ripped and shot up fabric of her royal gown returned to a state much better than new. With a flick of the wrist, those same evil eyes the only signifier of the truth hidden behind elegant surface, Nezera summoned a glass and a throne from thin air, (in actuality, her people scrambled to preemptively fulfill her unspoken order) and sitting upon it, spoke, voice filled with malice echoing across the cobbled streets and looming tower amplified by orders of magnitude from her arcane machinations.  [Healing: 12 = Success! Nezera regains two hitpoints, but her max is reduced to eight.] A populace at war is a terrible thing to behold. But one united in purpose, their every move coordinated with supernatural precision, every breath in synch and every step in rhythm, an unnatural heartbeat pulsing through the streets that are as veins throughout an entire city? Such a thing is beautiful and grim. There would be nowhere for the invader to hide. -- Above the streets, larger than even the fortress castle that overlooked the countess' domain, a mechanical war machine of ginormous proportion stood, it's many alloyed scared shell glistening with protective wards and magics, powered by the sheer goodness of heart and sweetness of intent leaking from the ever sticky enchantress at its core. Beside her, an armour-clad fairy, fiddling with controls twice her size of such complexity as to be meaningless without decades of drill and ritual in their maintenance. The pure and innocent face of the glitchie knightcerer, marred by a frown, spoke plainly of the trouble the interface presented her. Clearly the sacred engine of destruction had been constructed to be all but tamper-proof, and despite her skill at overcoming all such logical limitations, in this instance there was nothing she could do. The ginormous battle bot had been purged of programming, not a scrap of code remaining for her to sink her corrupting lancewand into. The third occupant of the great machine was a feline well versed in both dynamic synergy application of rapid photon deployments as well as whyzedex hyperliminal relocation procedures, the later of which she applied with her trademark gusto in the gravitic gimball at the core of the colossus, ensuring an exponential increase in forward momentum that was sure to see the audience, and thus also future investors, thrilled.With fusion engines purring and plasma conduits bulging with potential, the Warhound Class Imperial Titan strode from the carcass of the ruined neighborhood it had been summoned into. With each step, another five buildings were utterly demolished, the shockwaves from gigatonnes of metal touching down rupturing critical infrastructure for miles in every direction. Whatever happened next, it was clear that some major refurbishing must need take place, before the city could hope to win any more beauty awards from best-selling critically acclaimed magazine catering to megalomaniacs everywhere, Inter-dimensional Despot™ (subscribe today!) --  The battle began with a bellow from the three headed beast, ear-shattering, stone-cracking, relentless. Brick and mortar that had stood for generations dispersed at its passing, like the last remnants of ice and snow melting in the early days of spring. The Titan rushed (albeit ponderously) to meet the monster head-on, the delving crew trusting in its powerful armour and enchantments to keep them safe. Below the main event, tens of thousands of serfs rushed down every alley, every nook, into every home, grabbing everything from lizards to dogs to poorly washed urchins, all in the hope that it would sate their mistresses request for 'kobold' in as expedient a manner as possible.  For his part, the Kommander stuck to the shadows, scuttling, climbing and creeping through the streets as soon as the searching peoples backs were turned, taking care never to stop in one place for to long or ever to cross his own path. He knew in his cold-blooded heart that he would eventually be found, but was determined to waste as much of the deep delvers precious time as possible, hoping the Hydra would take care of his problems for him. --- There was a flash.  For a moment, the mourning cloudscape that signified a Vampiric Stronghold were speckled with a million dancing shadows, and even as the darkness rushed into to reclaim its violated territory, flames arose to taunt the sky further, having been ignited by the ludicrous heat and violence emitted from the Oblitelaser anchored to the Warhounds right gun-arm. [Cease and desist the HYDRA with a piercing magitek laser: 9d6 = 32 with one damage guaranteed vs Made of Snake: 2d6 = 9 = 4 damage!] The Hydra wailed at the onslaught, pushed back by the sheer power that radiated from the deep delvers mech. Before it even had a chance to react, the Hydra found itself with one head less than it started with, the fresh wound sealed tight by plasmatic cauterization. Suffice it to say the two remaining heads were less than pleased, and so the counter charge began. [Reflexes to Grapple: 13 VS Ssssswiftnesssss: 5d6 = 20 Ssssswiftnesssss: 20 vs Enchanting: Shimmering Aura on the War-Hound Class Imperial Titan: 22 = Failure! No damage dealt!] The first head went straight for the kill; easily lunging past the lumbering mechanoids predictable interfereatory movements to stab its multitude of fangs into the head of its adversary; only to be thwarted at the last moment by the shimmering clang of a forcefield. The deep delvers, who had already wisely braced for impact, still fell on their backs as the mythological beast slammed into them, pushing their robot backwards and destroying yet more of the city. A quick glance at the internal gauges noted that all systems were nominal, but that most of the wards had burnt out in the attack - they could not tank another such blow without taking structural damage and all within shuddered to think what that might entail. -- Action 1: Charming Gaze vs my populace: Ordering them to hunt down and kill the Kobold Kommander: 18 vs Kobold Stealth: 3d6 = 11 = Success!  Meanwhile, far below on the busy streets of Neles, a group of pitchfork wielding townspeople had just had the breakthrough of a lifetime; they had found the Kommander as he was clambering into a corner store and surrounded the place, making sure to set every nearby building on fire so as to prevent his escape. They raised their arms and arms in celebration, for surely their mistress would reward them for their victory. The Kommander sighed as he pulled out his Heavy Bolter: 5d6 14 vs Charming Gaze: 18 = Failure! When the noise and pain subsided, the Kobold Kommander was stunned to see that the majority had survived. How could mere humans withstand the ferocity of his magitek weaponry? The answer of course was obvious to the omniscient onlooker; with every movement controlled by the Kobolds nemesis, the people were hardly their normal, baseline selfs, instead an extension of the will of the vampire. As one, the mob rushed into the now burning store, stabbing and thrusting with bladed implements at anything inside that dared to move or not. The rifle was wrested from his hands, his hands from his body, his from from his self and with it, the Key from his possession. With his last breath, the Kobold Kommander uttered Talent: Kobolt Chant: 1d4 2 A single , blood curdled word; hail and then he was no more. -- Buffing Spear of Corruption with Glitchweaving: 5d6-3d6= -8 + IMProvised Controls: 4d6+1d6 14 (5 from proud if this doesn't qualify as helping. Not the greatest roll!) = 6 = Success! Just as the Glitchie was about to give up, she was joined by the most unlikely of companions. Imps! With a summoning circle spontaneously appearing beside her, they spawned in great number and with great eagerness, all willing and able to help her with her cause. After a number of failed attempts, together they managed by coincidence to press the exact sequence required to unsheath an energy sword to be held in the Titans left hand, with which they could Smite at the Hydra. [IMProvised Spear of Corruption = 6 vs Made of Snake: 2d6 2 sssnake eyes! Success! One damage dealt!]  With a mightly awkward blow, one sure to be embellished by the history books, the Titan dealt a horrific wound to the monster Hydra, scoring a gash across its long neck and gaining enough traction to recover from its previous stumble. The Hydra answered with another realm-shaking cry, gathering its vast reserves of magic for one last devastating attack. Talent: Rescue: 1d4 = 4 ... Or so they thought. For the last head of the Hydra did not bullrush them as had the others; instead it flew across the city, neck stretching impossibly long, impacting where the pitchforkers had just so recently plucked the Kommander from his mortal coil. Whilst it was too large to tear them limb from limb, it could still crush them into paste, and it did so effortlessly, rising again from the rubble with its prize.  The Key! It had the key! Nezera stood mouth wide open, screaming, rage spitting out of the corner of her befanged mouth - the key was hers by right of murder! It had no right to claim it as its own! Yet there is stood, unvanquished in her rapidly decaying homelands, threatening all she did not really hold dear and defying her by its very presence. The vampire huffed and fumed, her surviving people quivered. Where would it end? Would anything be left standing? Only time could tell. -- Back in her cage, Stefania gulped as her chair lurched another one-step forward, the Gunge beneath boiling in anticipation. If her fellows did not defeat the Hydra in time... she dare not think what would happen to her.
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Mar 16, 2018 01:03
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Countess Nezera Amaris Initiative: 11 HP: 5/9 Skills: Supernatural Movement [3d6], Charming Gaze [3d6] Powers: Unnatural Strength [5d6] Defense: Traumatic Regeneration [4d6] Talent: Items: None Prouds: Bootstraps(+2d6 when taking charge) AI: Non-hostile- Charm non-PC targets to do tasks for me. Hostile- Punch the hell out of enemies. Once she's finished with her emotional outburst, Nezera smooths her outfit of any rufffles and lets out a disappointed sigh, which echoed across the city as her voice still linked to the town square's projectors. Citywide her subjects flinch in anticipation of their Mistress's scorn and it isn't long until she delivers. Nezera's next projected words have a heavy magical weight behind them that causes a good portion of the population to fall to their knees Attend! I had expected more from my loyal citizens, but I will give you a chance to redeem yourselves before my disappointment comes to a head and I decide to tear this blasted city to the ground." Gesturing toward the impact point of the hydra's face Nezera continues "If one of you manages to bring me the Kobold's weapon I may show mercy, but for now the Fall Harvest has begun early. Approach and be devoured." While some of her stronger willed subjects fled in the direction of the Kobold Kommander's smashed corpse, the weaker or just zealously dedicated members of her flock began to approach the Countess. With ruthless efficiency she tears out throats and plants her teeth into arteries, leaving only husks of meat behind in a unnervingly clean swath of violence. It doesn't take long for Nezera's quantity over quality approach to fill her to the brim with stolen energy. Not one to wait for the iron to cool, she drops into a sprinting position and with no fanfare takes off like a bullet, barely visible as she races the wind toward the Hydra's remaining mouth, intent on snatching back the key that is rightfully hers. quote:Action 1: Charming Gaze w/bootstraps to buff Supernatural Movement is a success! Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 19:06 on Mar 16, 2018 |
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Mar 16, 2018 02:01
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Emille HP: 5/8 -> 4/8 Initiative: 14 Defense: Parry[3d6] Pyromancy [3d6], Acrobatics [2d6], Adventuring Knowhow [1d6] Ignite/Quench [3d6], Radiance [2d6], Arquebus [1d6] The Master's Mark (chocolate): [spent/unspent] Items: +1 Ring (+1 to a single action every turn), Miniature Planet (Plop a full sized planet somewhere), The Drill That Would Pierce the Heavens (2/4->1/4 charges) Prides: Proud of Being Mentored "Marius, do you have any idea of what's going on here?", Emille asked with a sigh. Hearing the pilot guy talk was a lot like one of her teacher's lectures on advanced magidynamics. The shade of Marius tore itself from the floor to reply, giving Moriir a small wave, "None at all." The Lady knew he was there, no point in hiding anymore. "What, really? I know you've done a bunch of planeshopping. You've never been anywhere like this?" "Wellllll, kind of. If I had to guess, you're somewhere that has a tech level of around 9 or 10 on the Jackson scale. Almost all of the planes that technologically advanced that I've been to stopped believing in Gods at some point. When that happens, things get very uncomfortable for me. At least 18 hours of sleep and 15000 calories a day just to sustain my body and a constant feeling of inescapable doom. It is tough to get anything done like that, much less learn how all their wonders work.", Marius stated, a hint of sadness in his voice, "A shame." --- Choosing A. When the snake automaton reared back to strike, Emille's adventuring instincts kicked in. She bolted out her flesh-seat and took a running jump through Chipper's membranous 'window'. She effortlessly unsheathed her estoc as she soared toward's the snake's flashing fangs. There was a screech of metal on metal. RULESSSSSSSS OF NATURE (Parry[3d6]): 3d6+1 18 Success! The starmetal held. Emille could not help but let out a haughty chuckle as the glyphs of deflection engraved upon the sword's length flared up. The poor bastard had no idea what was coming. With a deafening 'THOOM', the magical glyphs released the accumulated force back from whence it came, sending the snake reeling. Emille took advantage of the mechanical monster's moment of weakness and dove onto its body with help from a well timed explosion. Emille held on for dear life, as the creature thrashed around. While she waited for her window, she stared at Radiance, from its tip to its hilt, willing it to Ignite. Buff that sword! (Pyromancy[3d6] - Radiance[2d6]): 3d6-2d6 10 Success! A self-assured smirk spread over Emille's face as the blade went from a dull orange to a searing red to a white hot before being utterly consumed in coruscating flames. Even through Radiance's tungsten hilt and her asbestos lined gloves, she could feel the heat of it in her hands. She grasped it in both hands and drove it into the snake's back. As the automaton roared in pain, her opportunity appeared. Emille rose unsteadily to her feet and performed a series of death (and physics!) defying stunts along the length of the snake's body. She stabbed wildly at all of the interior hot spots, visible only to her thermally attuned eye, which she assumed were vital to its operation. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the shadowy form of Marius clapping. "Yes! Yes!", he cheered, in between peals of maniacal laughter, "Split it wide open!" Radiance[2d6] buffed with Pyromancy[3d6]: 2d6+3d6 13 The Drill that Would Pierce the Heavens: 1d4 2 -1 charge, +1 unavoidable damage paper bag with a face fucked around with this message at 06:09 on Mar 18, 2018 |
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Mar 18, 2018 06:03
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Ambitious Business-Cat AI action: Claim things as HP: 6/10 (1/1HP, 5/9 lives) Skills: Feline instincts 5D6, Dele-Gating 3D6 Powers: Stalking 2D6 Defences: Cat reflexes 5D6 Initiative: 18 Vanilla Talent: I meant to do that. Cat hooks a wine glass of milk with one paw and looks at the array of unmanned consoles, the assets which were not being realised! Clipping a Feline reflexes to boost dele-gating: 5d6-3d6 7 They pop into place, and look at cat expectantly. "Well, do you need me to explain everything? Man the controls, boot up the cannons, launch the missiles, kill that off brand Hydra! Fire everything!" Dele-Gating to man all of the weapons, fry the Hydra!: 8d6 33 Cat swirls the glass of milk. It was so hard to get good help these days.
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Mar 18, 2018 15:20
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Cepi Yu, Proud Knightcerer of the Warped Table Initiative: 13 HP: 10 Skills: Glitchweaving [5d6], Proud Knightcerer [2d6] Powers: Spear of Corruption [3d6]; Defense: Shield of Lag [5d6] Talent: Spent Items: Pocketful of Glitchies [3d6 Pet], Laser Cannon Voucher AI: Be suitably knightly, try not to die. She was getting a hang of the controls now! And the beast was on the run! All she would have to do was bunny-hop a bit for massive speed and airtime, and then drop down on the beast and pierce it with her KNIGHTCERERLY FURY! She was being so cool! Buffing Spear of Corruption with Glitchweaving: 5d6-3d6= 12 SUCCESS! Buffed Spear of Corruption: 8d6= 29
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Mar 25, 2018 02:56
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Molriir Hearthstone HP: 6/10 Initiative: 15 Skills: Educated Dwarf [3d6], Hearthstone [4d6]. Power: *Superior Quality Repeating Crossbow* [3d6] Defense: Unbelievably Stubborn [5d6] Inventory: Backpack o' stuff (delicious rations, oil, rum, etc.), Hearthstone Shield (+1d6 to a Defense against physical dangers - any nearby stone receives increased durability and tensile strength). Floor 6 - The Face of Oblivion Molriir nodded at the Pilot's explanation and resisted the urge to ask for further clarifications. Something as alien-seeming as Sky-is-maw's hive-like intelligence might look increasingly unfavorably on anything wasting its proxies' time, and he'd gotten the feeling he'd pushed it just there - although been fortunate enough to get answers anyway. For now, he'd just have to mull over the words - and those of Emille's shadowy mentor, who got a wave back and a raised eyebrow at the strange things he said. Molriir kept a smile on his face and his outlook bright, however. He would figure things out as he went, until the next opportunity came to get clearer answers. At least their task seemed simple - contribute to the survival of Sky-is-maw's many beings. As an Orthn he understood perfectly the desire to improve the lot of one's own - it was a primal urge in his kind to work and excell to the benefit of their clan and people - so it was a task he had some empathy for. More worrysome was the fact it seemed as if things in this world had, at some point, gone way out of shape to make the area - this level of the Dungeon, or this particular reality accessed by it - what it had become. A hungry hive-minded group, fighting an alliance of others, strange and unusual ways and means employed to do so. The way the local beings seemed to meld flesh and mechine and used technical language he could only begin to guess at wasn't exactly a new experience to the Orthn, however. He well understood it to be technology - or magic - beyond his ken, for the moment. Certainly, 'sundering' was not a good term to hear used in the context of a world, especially not something that happened with a certain regularity. He'd have to ask how long a megacycle was to get some feeling of whether the last such sundering been in the last few years or decades or even longer. To Molriir's limited point of view it seemed possible that this world was under the sway of competing Hosts, but he'd have a hard time adressing it without something to verify his suspicions with. As for the challenge set by the Dungeon - it was an elusive one. Were they meant to aid Sky-is-maw survive? Or perhaps one was simply meant to survive on one's own. Those were two obvious answers, but perhaps, like the last challenge, the choice of what to do and how to complete the challenge was left entirely to the judgement of the participants. Entering the drone's foul-smelling interior only seemed to verify his suspicions. Suppressing his gag reflex with the ease of one who'd suffered worse nasal assaults, the dwarf seated himself in the flesh-chair and went over the series of control runes, which were clearly readable, understandable, and manipulatable even by his slight form and smaller fingers. Either the drone had shaped itself to him, or it'd been made with an operator of his size and frame in mind. He stared at it suspiciously for a few moments, before sighing and reach out to tap on some of the runes. "Arright. Let's find out what fresh new challenge awaits," murmured the dwarf softly as he familiarized himself with the runes and got the drone to lift off. SNAEK.EXE posted:
A - Molriir stays put Though his eyes narrowed at the sight of the beast, the dwarf seemed strangely undaunted by the prospect of the drone being chowed upon by a giant snake-machine creature. "That's somewhat like a Mechimun, far as I can tell," he mumbled as he tapped rapidly on a segment of writing that seemed to indicate that it would make 'Chipper' to go into a 'flyby' mode. His eyes stayed on the weird window-screen. "Wildlife or mindful enemy, though? Harder t' tell in strange lands than you'd think. Assumin' animal mindlessness won't do us any good. Back home e'en th' smallest mechimun - metal critters of varied size and shape - had somethin' of a mind o' its own, although anyone'd have a hard time understandin' their line o' thinkin'. Ye'd imagine a giant bronze centipede-ish thing was hostile when it charges into yer camp, tearing down tents as it goes, but then it turns out it jest urgently wants yer cook's kit fer some kind o' abstract piece o' artwork. Heh. Ne'er got that back." The dwarf chuckled at the memory. The expedition cook, Hega, had been PISSED at losing her gear, and they'd all eaten poorer for it, but meals prepared in helmet-pots was honestly a small price to pay for remaining unmolested in a territory that contained such inscrutable beings. Smiling to himself, he looked to Emille where she stood on the drone's back ramp, ready to leap off and take the snake-mechim head on - the woman was brave, alright. He pointed to the blade she was raising, readying. "Ye've got somethin' like a national treasure there, don't ye? One that's right good fer facin' a foe like this, if I catch th' glint o' it and its metals right. Aye... with somethin' like that, it does nae matt'r how large th' creature be or how thick its metal hide, it'll seem like th' softest leather if use th' weapon's qualities with confidence. Such a sting will teach it t' be wary, so make use o' it, wield it like a shield. Th' critter be large, but will nae want t' suffer pain or damage, so as long as ye get yer blade ready and 'ave proven its worth, I hope it will hesitate. Best o' luck, brave lass!" Molriir had something of an advantage in this land of oddball giants, for the Orthn remembered their Origin and the time that followed. They had chiselled their runes early, and in lengthy prose recalled the harsh conditions that made them favor carving out safeholds along the sides of rocky valleys and mountains and secure their hearths in deep underground halls. It was the thunderous charge and clash of their titantic kin, the struggle between the greater numbers of the Elderkind, that drove them down below. To be so small in such a dangerous world had made the Orthn like worms of the earth for a time - but also mindful keepers of lore and dedicated defenders against those of far taller stature. Molriir had read and listened to the old accounts of battle against gigantic beings - when such things had been necessary - and knew a few of the weaknesses such enemies commonly held. Knowing that, he would try to maneuver the drone-thing close enough that he'd tempt the creature into exposing its weak points to Emille's attacks. Fixed post. Hearthstone to Buff Emille's Parry: 4d6-3d6 -4 failure! Dwarf Educated to debuff Snaek's Defense stat: 3d6-??? 11 Scribbleykins fucked around with this message at 23:31 on Mar 30, 2018 |
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Mar 25, 2018 05:06
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Name: Vivien Lumičre Initiative: 16 Health: 7/10 HP Background: Vivien is a high disciple of the Divine Order of the Pristine Depths, a healing-based faith devoted to Morgan Le Fey, the Lady in the Lake and High Enchantress of Arthurian Legend. AI Actions: Heal allies, Defend weaker creatures, Cure the sick and maimed, Enchant party's weapons and defenses, Eliminate dangers Skills: Enchantment:5d6, Curative Magic: 4d6 Powers: Holy Smite: 2d6 Defenses: Aegis of Camelot: 4d6 Talent: Status: Sugar-Coated Chakras: Cannot inflict harm. Vivien found the jostling, jerking, and jarring motions from being inside the guts of a gigantic mechanical being to quite the unnerving experience. Although, once she had her safety restraints properly affixed and fitted in place it didn't seem nearly as bad. The safety video's visual aids had been rather helpful in instructing Vivien how to attach the seat's belt buckles to each other to keep her from moving about too much. "I think I'm getting the hang of this~!" she declared triumphantly to her copilots seated elsewhere within the machine-beast. Vivien's console lit up in a series of familiar glyphs. She selected one and prepared the proper incantations. "I'm going to set us up with an illusion spell - it should increase our defenses while we attack!" Enchanting: Buffing Mirage on Aegis of Camelot: 5d6-4d6 5 - Success! Vivien extends her Aegis of Camelot to protect the War-Hound Class Imperial Titan and its crew. An illusory set of refractive, reflective, shimmering mirror-shields appear around the Titan and the Hydra in all directions. From this magical haze, the Titan should be able to strike with its weapons unopposed. Once the battlecraft's defenses had been raised, Vivien found herself looking at a colorful panel detailing the health readouts of the Titan's riders. What was that about the Cat that seemed... different? Vivien casts a curative spell on the Cat sitting in the captain's chair of the Titan, just to be safe. Curative Magic: Restoring the Health of the Cat Sitting in the Captain's Chair: 4d6 16
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Mar 25, 2018 07:00
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[Emillie, Molriir] [Floor 6 - The Face of Oblivion]  -- From the drone-ship springs an acrobatic adventurer with no regard for its own safety; star-metal rapier in hand whipping up a shower of sparks all along the terrifying mechanovipers body. Between the constant explosions and death-defying stunts, the whole audience, if there was, would surely be captivated. [Emillie Takes 1 damage! Radiance[2d6] buffed with Pyromancy[3d6]: 2d6+3d6 = 13 vs (Made of Snake: 2d6 4 vs Dwarf Educated to debuff Snaek's Defense stat: 3d6 = 11 = Success!) = 13 vs Made of Debuffed Snake: 2d6-3d6 -9 =13 vs - 9 = 3 damage +1 from drill = 4 damage Overkill! Damage to Emillie Negated!] The droneship zigged were it should have zagged to escape the Snaek, yet this suicidal counter-charge proved just enough of a distraction for Emillie to deal the finishing blow before the beast could truly come to its senses. The whole conflict was over in seconds, leaving the capable delvers with enough time to regroup and set of for greener pastures. -- And what greener pastures they were. 'Chipper' speeds away the miles beneath you, crossing a vast forest, or as you soon come to realize, the lawn beneath a tree. What at first you thought were mighty red-wood equivalents, in actual fact are but straws of grass. Now wether it is you who are tiny or the world that is huge, that is for the philosophers to deal with. What matters is the task at hand. 'Big Guy' required sustenance for Sky-Is-Maw, and you are the Hunters that will seek and plunder in its name. You consider your options... The Lawn  Aside from that one Snaek, the area closest to the Sky-As-Maw staging grounds are eerily quiet. Whilst you are certain that something must still be alive here, it is probably well hidden to have avoided the swarm for this long. Still, with your skillful handling of the Chipper-Drone and new tactical awareness you should be able to avoid any similar incidents in the future, allowing you to focus on your designated task. A hunt here would be safe-ish. A hunt here would be difficult. - The Sea of Glass  The Mighty Ruins of the Civilization that once stood here, before whatever calamity occurred 0.6 megacycles ago. Between the charred skeletons of a million steel and concrete towers - the ground is littered with machines long since dead, but in betwixt it all remnants still sputter and churn, powered by ageless zero-point powerplants. It would take an eternity to look through it all, fortunately you would not have to, as the grave-like monument to What Once Was is also filled to the brim with myriad living constructs, creatures big and small seeking shelter in the ruins. A hunt here would swiftly find enough bounty to bring back to the Sky-As-Maw. You would also swiftly be found. - The Wedge  You see a massive shape in the distance, a wedge that reaches towards the stars. It is truly enormous, larger than the largest mountains of your respective homeworlds. Strange behemoths roam the skies around it, diving into to it to eat their share of electromagics. They have probably been at it for millennia, and yet there is ever more on which to feed. If you wanted to find something truly, truly, truly outrageous, there could be no finer location to scout. Would the behemoths even care if you snuck in, your miniscule vessel not even a gnat against their Vastness? Perhaps. Perhaps not. To hunt here; what could you find? As to the dangers, who can know? - Technicolour Marches  Whatever happened here has caused the very air to melt and burn, a field of corrosive gasses and liquid poison - but beautiful to behold. Any creature that could survive here is sure to be tough, but might also be of great use for the Sky-As-Maw if you could capture it. You can be quiet certain that there are no predators here; the prey such that it is is far to tough and scarce. However, the environment will still do its best to kill you, and there is the additional issue of how exactly you are supposed to trap whatever has managed to survive in such a hostile biome. --
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Apr 6, 2018 19:57
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Molriir Hearthstone HP: 6/10 Initiative: 15 Skills: Educated Dwarf [3d6], Hearthstone [4d6]. Power: *Superior Quality Repeating Crossbow* [3d6] Defense: Unbelievably Stubborn [5d6] Inventory: Backpack o' stuff (delicious rations, oil, rum, etc.), Hearthstone Shield (+1d6 to a Defense against physical dangers - any nearby stone receives increased durability and tensile strength). Floor 6 - The Lawn After a zip-by and a loop of the scene to ensure everything was safe and clear, Chipper landed on the ground to let Molriir pop his head out the rear hatch. The dwarf gave Emille a relieved smile and a thumbs-up as their eyes met. "Well done, Emille! Was a sight t' behold - and apparently ye can, too. There's some manner of recordin' device fer images in here, and it seemed t' snap up th' highlights o' yer fight. Runes are talkin' up a bunch o' nonsense about ye scoring yerself an S-rank somethin'. Hafta agree that yer an impressive gal, at least! Ne'er seen a human perform such wild feats o' acrobatics while throwin' magic around like it was nothin'. Hah, well... afore I ferget why we're here, now that th' critter's slain we need t' settle on where t' Hunt. Chipper's been puttin' up images from its long-range optics and it seems we've got a range o' options t' choose from. Get in and I'll show ye." Once the both of them were safely ensconced into the stinky interior of the drone, Molriir pointed at a particular interior screens and its associated runes and pictures. "There they are. While I'd like t' explore any part o' this great big fallen world, I favor th' Lawn first of all. Home territory, almost, fer th' Sky-Is-Maw, and a safe place t' familiarize ourselves with th' realm and its creatures. It must've been hunted extensively, but as th' snake-mechim proved, it's nae devoid o' danger. Huntin' might be harder, and won't pay off as well fer th' SIM as o'ers are probably huntin' around these parts too. Still, there's somethin' t' be said fer startin' out small... assumin' the SIM won't resort t' eatin' us fer nae bein' productive enough, that is." Molriir chuckles and cuts a grimace at Emille over the fact this appears to be a distinct possibility. "Me second choice would be th' polar opposite - the Wedge. Dangerous, p'raps, but also interestin' - somethin' that large has t' have significance, and I donnae fear the size difference. Th' only thing I've ever seen that could be its match in size and scope would be the Cresting Wastes back home." Molriir looked over at the sub-divided screen and the four options on display and tapped down on the rune that would let the drone automate their next flight course. "What do ye think, lass? Ye lead the Hunt here, so as far as I'm concerned ye can make the final call." Molriir has preferences, but is open for any of the four options.
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Apr 9, 2018 01:44
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[quote="The Lord of Hats" post="482197946"] Stefania, Queen of the Curse Imps Initiative: 16 HP: 8/10 Skills: Imptourage [4d6], Penumbral Sorcery [2d6] Powers:Hellfire [4d6]; Defense: Demonic Destiny [5d6] Proud: Cooperation [1d6] Talent:Available Items:None AI: Solve tasks with imps, if someone tries to hurt her or a friend, use Talent to flip that. Right. Not much longer, not much longer, not much longer, they were definitely going to get her out of here and she wouldn't fall into the acid and die a horrible death. That would be a terrible story! No, she had a destiny to fulfill, and it wasn't going to end here. Still... even though it looked like the key was going to be in good hands, there were an awful lot of people in the way between her box and the key. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to open things up a little bit. You know, make things easier on her friends as they rescued her. Definitely not because she was worried that they could run out of time in the process. Nope. Nope. Nope! Everything was going to be fine. Especially if the imps clearing a path had anything to say about it. Clear a Path!: 4d6+1d6 13
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Apr 13, 2018 02:42
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[Cat, Nezera, Cepi-Yu, Vivienne] The Trial of Challenges The City of Neles Boom! Crash! Onomatopoeia! Loud and scary noises permeated the land as the Titan and Hydra traded blow after blow. On the streets, bloodcrazed villagers scattered like rodents, searching every nook and cranny for hints of their mistress illustrious key or the fallen Kobolds weapon, suppressed survival instincts clamoring at the fortress in their minds to flee the mpire Countesses feeding frenzy. Above, demons filled the air, but no ancient Moloch or Demi-Gorgon, no. These where demons of the lowest order. Imps. Dumb as roombas unless carefully instructed, but far to clever for their own good all the same. Most of them fanned out to clear the debris and the rubble, to make a path through for the other delvers, though at at least two dozen of the unruleiest imps took advantage of the chaos and free flowing magic to get themselves assigned cushy summoning gigs at a nearby shoe shoppe/magicke emporium. Their escape was hardly noticed in the grand meleé. Inside the Imperial WarHound, spectres of an altogether different sort were gathering around the magitek controls - interns. Clad in white and black with a stylish logo emblazoned on their blazers. "Ready to go on your order, boss!" they chorused enthusiastically, eagre to show their superior they had what it took to be a real member of the team. Business-Cat beamed with power and pride and a very healthy looking, honey-coloured aura. [16/6= 2 health restored! Maximum HP drops to 8! You are now at 8/8.] Talent: 1d4 = 1 From a blood-seeping wound in the Hydras neck, another head swiftly spawned though one malformed and grotesque - even if the main body was still regenerating rapidly it was clear that the delvers assault were having some effect, and the new head mainly The main head spit gobs of acid at the great Titan, but shimmering shields made sure that the only thing that was struck was the village below, turning the streets into rivers of bubbling goo. Which, in hindsight, would probably not be very good for the economy.  Having successfully withstood the attack, the Delvers responded with one of their own, pressing every single button in the mechanical, bipedal fighter at once.  [Glitchweaving and Delegating: 29 and 33 vs Made of Snake: 2d6 = 8 = 3 damage! Overkill! 4 damage! Overkill! Hydra soundly defeated! Excess damage vented to city! City takes massive damage!]  High on the taste and power of blood, Nezera ran not through her streets but through her buildings, ignoring such petty mortal things such as walls - the whole place was going to need extensive remodeling anyway, if she didn't just write it off as a loss - all that mattered to her now was to grasp the key from the downed Hydra, before it grew another pair of heads to distract them or before that wretched kobold kommander decided to become spontaneously alive again like some sort of reoccurring antagonist. Being an ancient vampire had seeded in her a deep and burning hatred for narrative causality, and she often took steps to see to it that such things as 'uncertain fates' where avoided whenever possible. Idly she pondered to take a detour to his body, to turn it into an unliving chair or some other fitting punishment, before his soul could sneak away or the Dungeon saw fit to suck them all back to the gameshow floor. Supernatural Movement to snatch the key: 34 AND Townsfolk looking for stuff: 20 vs Made of Dead Snake: 4d6 = 15 = Success! Overskill! Before it even hit the ground, Nezera was there to snatch the key from the bloody remains of one massive jaw only barely attached to an even more massive but equally bullet ridden body - she cackled in victory, a grim laugh that turned into a pleased chortle when a gaggle of townsfolk approached her like raggedy puppets pulled on unseen strings. 'Yer prize, Mistress'  The man who brought it forward would be one of the few townspeople spared further ills that day. [Great Success! You gain a Heavy Bolter as an alternate weapon (power) - unfortunately you do not have the means to re-arm it, so what ammunition there is left in the ammo-belt, and your penchant for overkilling, will determine just how much use it will see! The Heavy Bolter has a total of (34+20-15=39) 1d39 ammunition left, and you can spend as much or as little as you want (representing single-fire, burst-fire, rapid-fire and >metal storm< settings respectively) on any one action. After the final bullet is spent, the weapon can still be used as a club for an extra 1d6 to any meleé attack until it breaks!] -- "And there you have it folks, a tragic end for the Kobold Kommander and a clear victory for our glorious deep delvers!"  "Thank you sign, yes. As is custom, the team will now be transported back to the stage and re-united with their fellow companion - Stefania! To what I am sure will be much rejoicing. But wait! There is more!" ---  "Behind one of these three doors is a prize, which any of the contestants might claim for successfully going through this Challenge! Behind the other ones? Well that would spoil the surprise! Of course, there are only three doors and five contestants, so they would have to make up their minds about who goes where, first. Or they could also just opt to use that key that they got to descend further, ignoring the doors all together! We've seen every variation throughout our time here on the Trial of Challenges, with some teams even going as far as killing each other for a chance to even peek at the doors! That wave didn't last very long, let me tell you, and now a suspenseful drumroll please as we watch and see what they will do!" -- [Cat, Nezera, Cepi-Yu, Vivienne, Stefania] [The Stairwell]  Tough the transition was jarring, (those of you that survived) found yourselves once more in the great stairwell of the dungeon, going ever downward. You walked for a timeless time making little progress, until far too suddenly you appeared before yet another three sets of doors. One door is barred, adorned with a strange black and yellow sign showing the image of a man being chased by... a cone?  One door is painted green, adorned with a strange black and yellow sign showing the image of a man choking.  One door is plain, adorned with a strange black and yellow sign showing an incomprehensible squiggle.  Your wave may only pass through one door. But which door shall it be?
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Apr 18, 2018 10:22
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Countess Nezera Amaris Initiative: HP: 5/9 Skills: Supernatural Movement [3d6], Charming Gaze [3d6] Powers: Unnatural Strength [5d6] Defense: Traumatic Regeneration [4d6] Talent: Impromptu Hors d'oeuvres Items: Heavy Bolter [1d1-39 variable ranged/d6 bonus on a melee attack] Prouds: Bootstraps(+2d6 when taking charge) AI: Non-hostile- Charm non-PC targets to do tasks for me. Hostile- Punch the hell out of enemies. Nezera's glee at the confirmation of the Kobold Kommander's death by her proxied hand is unsettling for her servants. The Countess wasn't prone to outbursts such as this in their experience and usually the unknown meant more people were likely to die. Imagine the surprise when Nezera took out a key of her own and handed it to the deliverer of her prize. Placing a hand on her new favorite citizen's shoulder, Nezera presses the key to her treasury into the man's hand. Nezera wasn't a fool and so her voice resonated with power as she laid new orders on the city's new temporary ruler "The vaults are open to you, my seneschal will know what to do when you bring her this key. See to it that the city is rebuilt once again." Without so much as another word, Nezera is walking away and rejoining the rest of the victorious delvers. There's a hint of Nezera's amusement still pulling at the corners of her mouth as she spots her fellow delvers "Excellent work on removing that irritant from the picture. I won't say my city is exactly hurting for gold, but it is annoying having to spend on a remodelling on this scale." She nods to Stefania briefly "Likewise I'm glad to know that you got out of that with only a few singes. It would be a shame for a young talent such as yourself to meet such a boring end as being dunked in some acid." When the matter of the theoretical prize doors appears, Nezera sits to the side "I'm still a touch light headed from being a touch gluttonous today. Between the heavy meal and my new toy here, I'll be fine to sit aside and let you sort that out amongst yourselves." In the aftermath of the prize doors and another ages long walk down some stairs, Nezera is pleased to have arrived at an new place where she can't hear the irritating mutterings of kobolds. Examining the doors for a time she settles on voting for the Choking Man door. She wasn't about to make any solid assumptions about what was to come, but on a surface guess simply being unable to breathe didn't pose much in the way of danger to her. As the assembled make their decisions and a few of the braver delvers choose potential prize doors, Nezera points "I'm happy to sit by and allow someone a chance at a prize, but if one of these does go unclaimed I believe I can shake off the fatigue for a moment to make sure we don't leave anything behind." quote:If a prize door goes unclaimed Nezera will open it, but first dibs at prizes/death traps to anyone who wants a go at them. Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 08:57 on Apr 30, 2018 |
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Apr 18, 2018 11:10
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Ambitious Business-Cat AI action: Claim things as HP: 6/10 (1/1HP, 5/9 lives) Skills: Feline instincts 5D6, Dele-Gating 3D6 Powers: Stalking 2D6 Defences: Cat reflexes 5D6 Initiative: 18 Vanilla Talent: I meant to do that. "Before we leave, I shall claim any assets behind the With no interns around, the business cat was forced to approach the door alone. --- Later, Cat looked at the door with the cone. The shame cone, chasing another victim... Cat made her choice.
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Apr 23, 2018 21:11
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[Emillie, Molriir] [Floor 6 - The Face of Oblivion] [The Wegde] Off into the vast technomagical wasteland did the little drone traverse, speeding over incomprehensible ruins, ducking and weaving betwixt shadows cast but unfathomable monsters of the sky. Frankly, the speed at which they were going was ludicrous. Molriir, having traveled far and wide in his long life, wondered if perhaps he would not be ten years younger, had he had the drone as his biosteed in his home-plane. Ah, but what would he have missed if that were the case? Surely the journey was of greater value then whatever destination he ended up at, a secondary worry for one already outcast. They came to a stop abruptly at the base of the Wedge, an edifice that towered above them to the point where it was no longer really possible to see where it came to an end. Beyond the clouds, certainly, as the storms raging around it could attest. Great waterfalls of brightly glowing coolant leaked from somewhere far above and the sparks from various Estate-sized panels, loosened in some ancient impact, made spirited attempts to compete with this worlds natural lightning strikes. To Emillie, a being intimately familiar with the Weird, thanks to her Mentor and his stories, it suddenly became very clear what they had come up against. A Spelljammer. If she remembered Marius's rambling anecdotes correctly, sufficiently advanced societies of planewalkers might construct such a vessel to aid in their dimension-hopping, or even to travel from one Sphere to another, having epic adventures versuses demi-gods and illithids along the way as was their wont. The fact that the ship was Giant-huge was as much an anomaly as the rest of this world. The running commentary of Marius in her mind told her it was likely an intended extra-hardship laid upon them by the Dungeon, that they had been shrunk for the purposes of the challenge. A theory as likely as any. Now then, as for their mission... Do you: A: Infiltrate the Spelljammer looking for star-vermin such as Clockroaches or Metroids? Please describe your encounter! Beat a target DC of 20 to get through the Spelljammer unscathed with a navigation-themed roll, or take one environmental damage for every six points below 20. For every six points you manage to roll on a combat roll, gain one Vermin-type food item to bring back to the Sky-As-Maw. B: Scout the exterior of the Spelljammer, looking for the cargo hold. Even if its the size of several mountains, your drone is swift and the ship itself is just a fancy boat. It has to have a cargo hold somewhere. Beat a DC 30 stealth check to avoid the notice of the Great Beasts, going on to loot the hold for 1d6 Giant Valuables and one Cold Storge-type food item per six points of scavenging-themed roll. If you fail your stealth-check, you must defeat 1 great beast per failed rank (6 points), with 4d6 Great Beast Body defense and a 5d6 Great Slam attack. C: Something Else???? The Spelljammer is very large and very weird. Surprise me! Make something up, do some rolls and we will make it happen, somehow.
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Apr 29, 2018 22:17
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Name: Vivien Lumičre Initiative: 16 Health: 7/10 HP Background: Vivien is a high disciple of the Divine Order of the Pristine Depths, a healing-based faith devoted to Morgan Le Fey, the Lady in the Lake and High Enchantress of Arthurian Legend. AI Actions: Heal allies, Defend weaker creatures, Cure the sick and maimed, Enchant party's weapons and defenses, Eliminate dangers Skills: Enchantment:5d6, Curative Magic: 4d6 Powers: Holy Smite: 2d6 Defenses: Aegis of Camelot: 4d6 Talent: Status: Sugar-Coated Chakras: Cannot inflict harm. Once the vampiric township, the hideous hydra, and the magical, mechanical monstrosity they were all piloting had vanished, Vivien Lumičre found herself staring at a trio of doors, curiously displayed before them in bright and enticing colors. The Trial of Challenges demanded that they each select a door, did it now? Unbelievable prizes were promised to the lucky individual who chose the right door... When in doubt, Vivien had always felt that she was morally obligated to "do the right thing, at all times," and so it came as no surprise that, when prompted, she chose the Green Door on the right. Whatever would come from that decision was Vivien's burden to bear. Vivien followed the rest of her companions outside the floor containing the Trial of Challenges, and found herself once again in the never-ending staircase, ever-winding downward. They were stopped at the next floor, where a second trio of doors beckoned their way. This time, the doors bore cautionary markings, as if hinting at the dangers to come. Vivien looked at the signs on the doors and she looked at her companions. A vampire, a witch, a sprite-knight, and a cat... "Surely the door with the winding paths would be safest for the cat." Vivien ventured. "Cats like squiggly lines, don't they? I say we take that door." Lux Anima fucked around with this message at 22:34 on Apr 29, 2018 |
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Apr 29, 2018 22:22
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Cepi Yu, Proud Knightcerer of the Warped Table Initiative: 13 HP: 10 Skills: Glitchweaving [5d6], Proud Knightcerer [2d6] Powers: Spear of Corruption [3d6]; Defense: Shield of Lag [5d6] Talent: Spent Items: Pocketful of Glitchies [3d6 Pet], Laser Cannon Voucher AI: Be suitably knightly, try not to die. Cepi nodded, with absolute conviction. "YES!", she exclaimed, "A squiggle is a noble shape! Thus we must follow the squiggle road!"
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Apr 29, 2018 22:29
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Stefania, Queen of the Curse Imps Initiative: 16 HP: 8/10 Skills: Imptourage [4d6], Penumbral Sorcery [2d6] Powers:Hellfire [4d6]; Defense: Demonic Destiny [5d6] Proud: Cooperation [1d6] Talent:Available Items:None AI: Solve tasks with imps, if someone tries to hurt her or a friend, use Talent to flip that. Stefania frowned as everyone went off in different directions. Weren't they supposed to be a team? Friends were supposed to stick together! Well, she'd just have to meet back up with them later. It would definitely happen, of course. Without a doubt, they'd all pull through their challenges without problem. But for now... She walked after Nezera, a train of imps following behind her. She couldn't just abandon her mentor, after all! Going to the Choking Man door.
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Apr 30, 2018 02:36
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[Cat, Nezera, Cepi-Yu, Vivienne] The Trial of Challenges Before Our Heroes ventured further into the dungeons, three of them braved the Garish Doors in hopes of prizes. Here is what each one received, in turn. -- [Cat] You reach the blue door, which opens to reveal... Good, Bad, Goat: 1d3 2 / How Bad? Somewhat, Very, Lethal: 1d3 3  A spacious, well lit conference hall filled with female servant-clad humanoids doting on members of your own (pre-uplifted) species. One such maid immediately picks you up and scratches you on the back of the head, shrieking the words "kawaii!!" to her fellow workers. Soon a delicious meal of grilled fish is brought before you, and in between the scents and smells of the food, the toys and the company, you soon forget you ever entered a dungeon to begin with. You have failed in your trials and have been ejected. -- [Vivienne] You reach the green door, which opens to reveal... Good, Goat: 1d2 2  A goat! Oh how the Kobolds laugh behind you, and the audience with them. Whatever will you do with a goat? Well, it is yours to care for now, as the magic of the dungeon transports you away from the Trial of Challenges and back into the stairwell. [You receive: A Goat. It has 1 hp with a 2d6 Made of Wool body, a 2d6 Headbutt attack and a 3d6 Eat It skill. It has one action per turn. It probably won't follow your commands unless you have some sort of animal husbandry skill.] [Nezera] You reach the red door, which opens to reveal [1=Good] How Good? Somehwat, Very, Great!: 1d3 2  Upon a pedestal covered i dust rests a simple potion labeled 'Universal Solvent'. The Kobolds i the audience cheer s you grab for it, and confetti rains from the ceiling. You get the feeling it is an earnest celebration, but the beast within you cannot help but to feel slightly mocked. Despite yourself, you are whisked away to the stairwell along with the others, where you face another choice of doors... --- [Stefania, Vivienne, Cepi-Yu, Nezera] The Stairwell  Solemnly you reach the next set of doors. As you cannot come to an agreement regarding them, you stand around awkwardly until one of you just reaches for a handle... What Door? Cone vs Choking: 1d2 1 and once more are whisked away... --- [Stefania, Vivienne, Cepi-Yu, Nezera] Floor 4 - The Pit  You arrive outside the dungeon, having been exil- no, wait. You succeeded in your trials, passed to the next set of challenges. Something must be off.. You stand at the precises of a large and foreboding pit. It is miles down, and a work-crew of Kobolds can be seen running up and down crude stairs dug into the soil. Above you is a Void, much darker than any sky you have ever seen, and from below you can hear the rumbling of magi-tek mage-chinery. Your breath-taking views are rudely interrupted a moment later, by the raspy yell of a sharply dressed Kobold Overseer, waving a clipboard in your direction.  "Ey! You lot! This hole ain't gonna dig itself. Get a move on ya doofs, lest you bring The Lady down upon us all! Now, I don't know why yer scales have gone fallen off, but that ain't no concern of mine as long as you stay away from me with your filthy smoothskins. If you can't dig, at least figure out whats wrong with The Machine, or if yer feeling up or it whip some of the other slackers into shape. In all honesty I don't care one whit what you do as long as this hole gets dug deeper, but if it ain't done yer in for a grimpin! Now go on, get!!"
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Apr 30, 2018 13:54
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Cepi Yu, Proud Knightcerer of the Warped Table Initiative: 16 HP: 10 Skills: Glitchweaving [5d6], Proud Knightcerer [2d6] Powers: Spear of Corruption [3d6]; Defense: Shield of Lag [5d6] Talent: Spent Items: Pocketful of Glitchies [3d6 Pet], Laser Cannon Voucher AI: Be suitably knightly, try not to die. A strange hole! It would suffice. But Cepi, true to her Knightcererly nature, was more concerned with a lost companion. Where was the mighty feline beast? Were they gone? That was not right! Such a great and noble entity should have stayed by their side! Cepi reached into the fabric of reality and tried to make things right. As per the results? She was not too confident. She dug in, and placed an order too for a hopefully helpful and very stylish accessory. Glitchy Initiative: 5d6= 16 Rewrite the Matrix: 1d4= 1 WHOOOPS Buffing Shield of Lag with Glitchweaving: 5d6-5d6= 7 SUCCESS! Using Laser Cannon Voucher to place an order for tiny laser cannons arranged into a cool Laser Angel Wing -backpack configuration
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Apr 30, 2018 14:44
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Countess Nezera Amaris Initiative: 8 HP: 5/9 Skills: Supernatural Movement [3d6], Charming Gaze [3d6] Powers: Unnatural Strength [5d6] Defense: Traumatic Regeneration [4d6] Talent: Items: Heavy Bolter [1d6 bonus on a melee attacks] Universal Solvent Prouds: Bootstraps(+2d6 when taking charge) AI: Non-hostile- Charm non-PC targets to do tasks for me. Hostile- Punch the hell out of enemies. Nezera's nails clatter lightly against the tiny bottle she'd retrieved from behind the red door, it's hard to push down her revulsion at the kobold crowd's incessant cheering, but treasures are treasures even if they were originally unwanted. The sudden disappearance of the small business feline is a touch upsetting, but what can you do? The dungeon was a mysterious place and starting to become interesting. The immediate appearance of yet another Kobold is particularly annoying, but Nezera manages to keep her cool for a moment. She'd managed to work out most of her ire on the Kobold Kommander and the Dungeon had a method to its madness hopefully. The facade of calmness doesn't last as the Overseer begins barking orders. Fist tightening Nezera stalks forward, bloodlust plain in her eyes "I have raised nations from nothing and forced Kings to their knees to watch as I tear their cities down around them. A pit is a trivial matter with the right incentives for your workers." Nezera stops in front of the Overseer, the tension in her hand releasing "But I'm here to find entertainment and you're putting a dour spin on that. I assure you the work will be done, but not under your supervision. I will take over your work for the time being. Her spiel spilt, Nezera lashes out with her free hand intent on ripping out the Kobold's throat and draining it dry. The Overseer, as all Kobolds have so far proven, is rather more irritating than expected and fortunately manages to dodge by a hair's breadth. Less fortunately for the Overseer, Nezera has the Kobold Kommander's bolter in her other hand. The small blur of movement as she brings her arm up and takes a firing position is completely overshadowed as the bolter's entire remaining stock of ammunition thunderously fires at the Overseer's face. quote:Initiative for the floor: 8 Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 17:21 on Apr 30, 2018 |
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Apr 30, 2018 15:06
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farewell broke rear end gun, I never really knew you. I could reroll/re-ration bullets, but this is real cathartic.
+ Proud of the Bootstraps?(
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Emille HP: 5/8 Initiative: 14 Defense: Parry[3d6] Pyromancy [3d6], Acrobatics [2d6], Adventuring Knowhow [1d6] Ignite/Quench [3d6], Radiance [2d6], Arquebus [1d6] The Master's Mark (chocolate): [spent/unspent] Items: +1 Ring (+1 to a single action every turn), Miniature Planet (Plop a full sized planet somewhere), The Drill That Would Pierce the Heavens (1/4 charges) Prides: Proud of Being Mentored Emille sat back in her gross meat chair, pondering their next course of action as she cleaned the last of the mechanical serpents unique combination of blood, oil, and coolant off her estoc. "Incredible! I've only seen these in books!" she explained to Moriir, "It's like a boat but it's for going up and *out* so you can travel between worlds." Marius made a hollow approximation of a whistle, "Been a while since I've seen one that big. Certainly not that technically advanced. It probably has an Artifurnace or perhaps some kind of fusion reactor don't ask. Both are practically priceless, though you'd be hard pressed salvaging them at this scale." "What about the cargo, Marius?", Emille asked. The shade could only respond with a shrug, "Could be anything. With a beauty like this, there's almost no limit to where you can go or what you can haul." The gears in Emille's head began to turn, the first stirrings of Adventurer's Greed. "Getting in either way is going to be rough. Can you help, master?" Action 1: The Mark[1d4]: 1d4 4 Emille felt a tugging within the core of her being, which spread out and subtly pulled...something from her surroundings. Marius's shadow suddenly seemed darker, more solid, "Absolutely. I am feeling clear of mind today and the area's noctum is nice and coherent." "Alright, what do you think we should hit, Moriir?" Banking Marius's action for later. Emille is currently leaning towards hitting the cargo bay.
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May 1, 2018 10:32
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Molriir Hearthstone HP: 6/10 Initiative: 15 Skills: Educated Dwarf [3d6], Hearthstone [4d6]. Power: *Superior Quality Repeating Crossbow* [3d6] Defense: Unbelievably Stubborn [5d6] Inventory: Backpack o' stuff (delicious rations, oil, rum, etc.), Hearthstone Shield (+1d6 to a Defense against physical dangers - any nearby stone receives increased durability and tensile strength). Floor 6 - The Wedge "So it's th' prow o' some sort o' world-sized 'twixt-the-worlds-liner?" responded Molriir. The Orthn seemed impressed, but was surprisingly unfazed at the revelation. He calmly brushed away a series of warning runes from Chipper's interior viewscreens. "I wonder what happened t' it... an' us. P'raps we have been shrunk. Or some things 'ave been made grand... although, if we 'ave, it's nae t' a truly meaningful level. Small or large, we're still as strangers t' a new land - and we'll hang on in our own way, won't we?" He looked to Emille with a smile - and then raised an eyebrow as the shadows seemed to deepen around her and her patron. Molriir wasn't sure what to make of that one - he spoke with a weary tone that reminded him, strangely, of the Lady's, and was clearly a Magi of considerable practice and skill - if not something more - but the Orthn had found Emille to be friendly enough and whoever this shadow-man was, he seemed in her corner, and also sounded like he knew things the dwarf would have an interest in hearing. As Emille stated her desire to explore the vast ship and loot its holds, then asked him what his own desire was, Molriir laughed and answered with an honest shrug. "Any part o' it seems interestin' to me, and if I had me way, we'd traverse it bow t' stern. If ye wish t' find and raid fer hill-sized fortunes, I won't be th' dwarf t' deny ye, though. We're fer sure gonna have t' run th' gauntlet o' them vast an' flyin' Vandebeasts, mind," he continued, and pointed at shapes starting to loom larger and larger on the horizon as Chipper brough them closer and closer to the Wedge. The dwarf patted the fleshy sides of the interior gently as he swept away another set of blinking warning runes. We'll try for the Holds. I'm too knackered to come up with something truly interesting.
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May 2, 2018 22:46
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Name: Vivien Lumičre Initiative: 18 Health: 7/10 HP Background: Vivien is a high disciple of the Divine Order of the Pristine Depths, a healing-based faith devoted to Morgan Le Fey, the Lady in the Lake and High Enchantress of Arthurian Legend. AI Actions: Heal allies, Defend weaker creatures, Cure the sick and maimed, Enchant party's weapons and defenses, Eliminate dangers Skills: Enchantment:5d6, Curative Magic: 4d6 Powers: Holy Smite: 2d6 Defenses: Aegis of Camelot: 4d6 Talent: Status: Sugar-Coated Chakras: Cannot inflict harm. Cohort: A Goat: Skills: Headbutt: 2d6, Eat It: 3d6 Defenses: 2d6 Made of Wool Huh? Where had that Cat gone? Hopefully somewhere safe, with any luck. A cat had no business being in an endless chaotic dungeon anyway! It was downright dangerous here! Without missing a beat, Vivien had another animal companion to concern herself with: a Goat. The Goat stared at Vivien with its curiously unsettling side-eyes as she muttered an incantation. Talent: Prismatic Refraction: 2#1d4 2 1 - Success! Vivien can affect up to 1+1=2 targets this floor! The remaining Dungeon-delvers had a hole to dig, did they? Well, Vivien and Stefania weren't the types to get their hands dirty, no - they were the kinds of magic users who preferred to delegate to others. Nonetheless, it helped to use one's skills to bolster those you'd have working for you in such a way. Enchanting: Buffing Invigorate on Goat and Stefania's Imps: 5d6 17 "Goat... can you help dig? Dig?" Vivien pawed and stamped at the ground to try and get Goat to mimic her. She hoped that this behavior wasn't an invitation for a Headbutt...
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May 3, 2018 01:37
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