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gowb
Apr 14, 2005

by zen death robot


Hey I would like to Participate! I was told to come here by a banner


Name: Vist
HP: 3
Glory: 0
Skill: Jousting, Guarding

Vist grumbled under her breath. She had never paid attention when her grandmother had tried to teach her about the theory behind Yousting and why they did what they did, and most of her brainpower was usually taken up by attempting to stay upright on her father's broad shoulders while balancing the Long and staying on target. Even the religious aspect of the ritual didn't really appeal to her - it was the thrill of the impact! But she listened when Grimper talked, even if it was more out of fear than anything else, and she found herself unwillingly learning something. This hording business was harder than she expected.

And more rewarding. She held the small, dirty skillcore up to the light. It didn't sparkle; it was too grimy for that.

If newcomers still get to choose, I'll take a free weapon! Some sort of lance would be amazing, but i'll take anything really. Also, assuming we can choose a mook to become, I'd like to grab the one with the Guarding skillcore please!

gowb fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2017 around 22:56

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ADBOT LOVES YOU

super sweet best pal
Nov 18, 2009



Lipstick Apathy


Only thing more terrifying than Grumbus is Cornbread.

gowb
Apr 14, 2005

by zen death robot




Name: Vist
HP: 3
Glory: 0 -> 1
Skills: Jousting, Guarding

The healers seemed to have everything taken care of, and Vist felt queasy at the injuries the others had suffered. She had yet to get bloodied herself and wondered when that luck would end. Long's length, it wouldn't be soon. In the meantime, she had other things to take care of - they were going to be sitting here for a bit with only the groaning wounded to tend to. She collared two sentries and set about patrolling the surrounding halls and rooms, looking for anything of interest, using her newfound knowledge of efficient patrol routes and gaol layouts to map the prison.

Exploring the area: 1d100+10 90

gowb fucked around with this message at Nov 15, 2017 around 02:50

Task Manager
Sep 5, 2008

A weird time in which we are alive. We can travel anywhere we want, even to other planets. And for what? To sit day after day, declining in morale and hope.


+ =

simplefish
Mar 28, 2011

So long, and thanks for all the fish gallbladdΣrs!



.


Name: Börk
Skills: Kissing
HP: 3
Glory: 0


.

simplefish fucked around with this message at Nov 19, 2017 around 07:13

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.


simplefish posted:

Came here because of a banner, I'd like to play!

Portrait: A2
Name: Börk
Skills: Kissing
HP: 3
Glory: 0

Backstory:
Börk spent much of his youth in his bedroom practising kissing on his hand. Too much of his youth. So much in fact that he sort of forgot to go out and put his skills to use. Ah well, he's here now.



I only read through the first few GM posts so far. It was enough for me to know I wanted a part of his, but need to catch all the way up now.

That's one hell of a useful skill, my man! You can also pick a weapon or armor for free due to unlocks that happened since the beginning.

simplefish
Mar 28, 2011

So long, and thanks for all the fish gallbladdΣrs!



Thanks. In joining, could I take over the mook from Line 98 in the spreadsheet (the one with the Listening skillcore)?

If so, do I come in at 3/3hp or do I need to get on the healing straight away?

I'd love a dagger if there's one going too please

simplefish fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2017 around 17:12

Swedish Thaumocracy
Jul 11, 2006

Strength of >800 Men
Honor of 0


Grimey Drawer



New recruit? What new recruit? Vist has always been here.

gowb
Apr 14, 2005

by zen death robot


simplefish posted:

Thanks. In joining, could I take over the mook from Line 98 in the spreadsheet (the one with the Listening skillcore)?

If so, do I come in at 3/3hp or do I need to get on the healing straight away?

I'd love a dagger if there's one going too please

Kissing AND listening?? Did someone say boyfriend material??

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.


simplefish posted:

Thanks. In joining, could I take over the mook from Line 98 in the spreadsheet (the one with the Listening skillcore)?

If so, do I come in at 3/3hp or do I need to get on the healing straight away?

I'd love a dagger if there's one going too please

I'll set you up such that you have 3/3 HP, don't fret. May as well give you a fighting chance! As for a knife, I think Doc has one that you can steal the item card from!

edit: Alright, added your portrait to first post. Also here's that knife:

Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2017 around 18:31

CourValant
Feb 25, 2016

Do You Remember Love?

gowb posted:


Name: Vist
HP: 3
Glory: 0
Skill: Jousting, Guarding

So, same question as before, are you choosing Jousting or Guarding as your beginning skill?

You want to claim the mook with the Grappling core, that's cool; you still only start with one base skill.

WereGoat
Apr 28, 2017



CourValant posted:

So, same question as before, are you choosing Jousting or Guarding as your beginning skill?

You want to claim the mook with the Grappling core, that's cool; you still only start with one base skill.

They picked a mook with the guarding skillcore picked up from before, so all good :-) they get their core plus the extra core the mook picked up, so now have 2/3 skillcores

WereGoat fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2017 around 22:49

CourValant
Feb 25, 2016

Do You Remember Love?

WereGoat posted:

They picked a mook with the guarding skillcore picked up from before, so all good :-) they get their core plus the extra core the mook picked up, so now have 2/3 skillcores

Wonderful, thanks for the clarification!

gowb
Apr 14, 2005

by zen death robot


CourValant posted:

So, same question as before, are you choosing Jousting or Guarding as your beginning skill?

You want to claim the mook with the Grappling core, that's cool; you still only start with one base skill.

Both!

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Cosmiq's entrant: Skipp Wiley Jr.



Dinosaur Gum

^^^ Whoops already resolved!

CourValant posted:

So, same question as before, are you choosing Jousting or Guarding as your beginning skill?

You want to claim the mook with the Grappling core, that's cool; you still only start with one base skill.

Gowb (Vist) has chosen to embody the mook who picked up the Guarding skillcore (instead of Grappling). Vist's starting skill is Jousting.

Similarly, Simplefish (Börk) has selected the mook who picked up the Listening skillcore, and chose Kissing as Börk's starter skill.

simplefish posted:

Came here because of a banner, I'd like to play!

Portrait: A2
Name: Börk
Skills: Kissing
HP: 3
Glory: 0

Hey, welcome! What's Börk's first action as a member of the horde? You can make a downtime action roll this round! (ex: Kissing the wounded to make them feel better)

e: vvvv Not if you do it right! :bigtran:

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2017 around 23:11

CourValant
Feb 25, 2016

Do You Remember Love?

Prince of Space posted:

Hey, welcome! What's Börk's first action as a member of the horde? You can make a downtime action roll this round! (ex: Kissing the wounded to make them feel better)

That's assault, Brother!

WereGoat
Apr 28, 2017



HiHo ChiRho posted:

After some careful trading, Mason was now the proud owner of another Mason skill. Nevermind that it was really for the building and setting of stone walls and structures, but this time it really had the word Mason in it - he even pulled over a few literate UNEXPECTABLES to confirm the letters! So Mason started slabbing mortar onto his various wounds and hoped for the best!

WereGoat fucked around with this message at Nov 15, 2017 around 00:47

Jvie
Aug 10, 2012



Grimey Drawer

Hello everyone, I'd like to participate.

Filling in the mook 61 with 1/3 hp, mutation, Slinkekelomas and [blank] + jumping we get...


Name: Trinh
Skills: taxidermy, jumping
HP: 3/3
Glory: 0 -> 1


Taxidermy can be profitable if you market it right. Trinh made a good living with agressive marketing until the local mayor took offense to being reunited with his pet dögg.
Granted, Trinh had dug it from it's grave without asking for a permission but reunions are supposed to be happy, not a cause for screaming and death threats.

After months of homelessness joining the horde was the least bad option available.

---

The room was still spinning, not that Trinh was sure how long it had been since the wendigo encounter. The warlord's latest drunken speech had been the only event to pierce her feverish haze in a while. before that it is just memories of pain and... digging through someone's guts?

Trying to claim science core
: 1d100 30

MUTATION: 1d6+1 7

After a few deep breaths she manages to push herself up from the corner and heads to what looks like an infirmary. Patching up people should be the first priority and healing is basically just taxidermy on the living, right?

Helping with healing: 1d100 80

Taking a weapon(knife) for my bonus item.

Jvie fucked around with this message at Dec 31, 2017 around 01:17

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.


So hey I know there's supposed to be an update here, but it ain't done yet! It may yet pop up tonight if I'm able to keep up the pace, but failing that I strongly recommend you get your goblin fix from:



It's basically Oregon Trail + Goblins and it's been running for years. It's fully illustrated (like, only illustrations and no text) and it's pretty rad! Read that instead of sending me death threats, because this update is gunna be a doozy!

edit:
jesus christ

Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at Nov 15, 2017 around 03:19

CourValant
Feb 25, 2016

Do You Remember Love?

Dog Kisser posted:

Read that instead of sending me death threats, because this update is gunna be a doozy!

I knew it, Queen Reina has come back to life, everything goes back to normal, and The Unexpectables get to retire to a farm Upstate.

HiHo ChiRho
Oct 23, 2010

Then you remember. You have a message to send.

Something everyone must know.

You have the power. You have the means.

Let it be known.





Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.




Administr- EX-Administrator Zapanda was having an absolutely wretched time of it. Sure, she wasn't dead, but Cleo? Jules? Balthazar? They lay splattered or gutted on the floor, their Cores torn out by grubby hands and consumed. Vile! But what else could she expect from the Töans? War had come to Nägel,a punishment for the Warden's crimes. Releasing those Wendigo probably WAS a war crime, and a coward's move besides. Their release had killed several of their own people and little else. At least some of the Horde bastards had gone down too.

And now here she was, arms deep in a sucking chest wound, trying to save one of them. She didn't have a choice in the matter, she wasn't a surgeon by trade, and she half-sarcastic to spit into the cavity - but she would save him, because otherwise she'd be killed herself. And she was going to live, drat it. The cure for Monsterism was closer than it had ever been, and she alone held the key to her country's salvation. That was later, this was now. “I need some more boiling water over here, now! Marlene, turn that funny looking one over, he's aspirating! Hold it together, you blue son of a bitch!”
“Don’t bother trying to cover everyone, there’s too many! Just pick the jackasses who are bleeding to death in front of you! And you! Are you trying to convince your friend that ‘he’s not dying, those intestines are just sausages you smuggled into the Horde’? Go and get me some clean bandages!”
    Healing = 1876 + 10d100-10 = 326 vs 35d100 = 1505
    Splut, Cornbread, Hat, Shiny, Otter, Rik, Neebs, Mason, Patsy, Spekz, Grumbus, Gopher, Gloff, Sucy, Gado, Gorb, Dofro, Klörf and 16 Mooks gain 1 HP! Splut, Hat, Shiny, Patsy, Gado, and Sucy gain an additional 1 HP!
Exhausted, everyone bandaged, they slunk away into their respective corners to lick their wounds. A handful were still grievously injured, and even more were mobile but still hurt. Too bad. Too much blood, too much bad blood between the groups of healers. They’d survive, and that would be enough. drat them, they’d survive. Curse their rotten guts!

(That went a good bit towards diminishing the sting of that last fight, but there were simply too many to take care of all at once. There’s none of you - the players, I mean - at 1 HP anymore, but if you ever ARE at 1 HP, you can choose to become Crippled, reducing your max HP to 2 but healing you up to that point. You’ll gain some kind of scar, possibly visually impacting your character, but it’ll make healing the others easier. Some Mooks opted to take that path, effectively deciding to pretend that they’re doing fine. It makes healing the others easier, but too much of that will weaken the Horde in general!)

---
As they passed through the healing area, the Unexpectables dropped their precious Glory off with their Quartermaster. Magda whistled through her teeth. Another Ritual, already. They were really burning through her stock. Fine, whatever - they'd pull spares off the dead, she had enough left over for this next Ritual, and beyond that she'd make due with iron bars in her smelter. Slightly easier than working from raw ore, but didn't have quite the same feel - and the feel mattered, which she knew better than most. With a booming sigh, she got to etching the new Sigils.

---
Grimper looked through the ‘army of monsters’ that sacking Nagel had gotten him. A miserable lot, a mere handful of useful bodies among them. There were forty eight of them left, but only fourteen of them weren’t so Monsterized that he could use them. What use was five legs when only one worked? What use were fangs so large they forced the mouth wide open? He left them in their cells, and took the others. Some of them looked less than keen to be taken, which was ridiculous. Would they rather stay in prison, surrounded by Wendigos and these cripples? Disgusting. No, they’d be better off fighting against the state that imprisoned them! He slapped them on the shoulder encouragingly, then assured them that they’d survive a hell of a lot longer if they perked up. They smiled warily, but he was already moving on.

(Hurray, fourteen new recruits! That offset the five you lost quite nicely, and they’re sure to be totally loyal and happy to be taken away from this awful, awful place!)

---
The Horde, having learned the secrets of Skillcores that they probably ought to have learned in their infancy, set about to trading and installing their newly garnered Cores with reckless fervor. Resonance favored like-aspected Cores, so trading like this became a normal and necessary part of every Horde's lifestyle sooner or later. What was decidedly out of the ordinary were the Wendigos’ Skillcores, which peeked tantalizingly out of their battered bodies, despite Grimper's dire warnings not to even look at them. As usual, between the lines that meant not while he was looking at you, so they merrily ignored him and plunged greedy hands into sallow flesh.

Neebs the Salestöan reached for the Ḿ̧͘͟è̸̸̛͝r̷̛͘͡c̢h͜͟͜a̷̢͘n͢͟͡͠t̸̡͠ Core and-
“Don’t touch that poo poo!” Grimper grabbed Neebs by the wrist and tossed her at the wall, then crushed the tainted organ with a lead pipe. “I knew I should have burned the drat things, but I thought I’d been clear about the danger!” He loomed over her then with the pipe, brought it up to swat her… then dropped it and walked off. She was under no illusions that she’d escape his ire forever, though...

Hob the Beekeeper was undeterred, however, the promise of a Wendigo’s power proving too much for his rational mind to bear. He made certain he wasn’t being watched, then brought the crystalline mass of the Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛ Core to his lips.

A rapturously loud note burst from his mouth, and he had to clamp both hands over it to stop it from spilling out. His chest felt hot and cold, and his bones creaked around the unfamiliar and unyielding mass that grew within. This was a mistake. This was brilliant. This was a mistake. He was excited. He wanted to sing! He wanted to Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨!

Dack the Athlete and Bamboo the Weaver had their sights set on the final Skillcore. Ą̀͠c̵̢͡͠͏r̴̸̛͝͡o͘͢͜͡b͜à̵̡̕t̷̢̀͜i̸̸͞c͘͟s̀͜͟ lay dangerously close, and they weren't about to let it slip away. They waited until Grimper was distracted and -

A brief scuffle, a fist to the nose, and then a break apart. One claimed it and one slunk away. Dack gripped it jealously, feeling its power filling him. He suddenly felt dizzy… or, no, not dizzy, the very opposite. Stable. He balanced on one foot, then on one toe, then on his toenail. As it collapsed under his weight, he caught himself easily, gracefully. He felt like leaping over his fallen comrades! He felt like juggling their organs of the dead. He felt like seeing how many flips he could do before crashing down to earth. It was great it was great it was great!

(Alright, Skillcores - Grumbus gets Cursing, Ringo gets Ventriloquism, Humbug gets Science, Gado gets Precision, Pythag gets Lying, Patsy gets Regeneration, Biggo gets Kicking, and Mooks get Snoring and Spinning. Hob gets Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛, which is +50… but also Mutates (roll 1d6+1, more on that later this update) and the caveat that if he rolls a 1 while doing it, he dies - or worse! Same deal for Dack with Ą̀͠c̵̢͡͠͏r̴̸̛͝͡o͘͢͜͡b͜à̵̡̕t̷̢̀͜i̸̸͞c͘͟s̀͜͟ . Neebs gets nothing but makes Grimper grumpy, and he’s already pretty flippin’ mad!)

---
Magda's back ached. This was supposed to get easier with practice, not harder, but each batch was burning something out of her. Age was catching up to her… she blinked back a miserable tear and tossed the last Nail into the pile. There - enough for the entire Horde, even given the… fluctuation in numbers. Luck’s Fickle Gaze was ready to be pounded into the very beings of the Unexpectable Horde. Now… for the others. She still had a pile of reject Nails. That would be good enough to hold them for now. Let the Frömen deal with them once the thing went Corrupt!

---
Gawp the Perciever, Vist the Jouster and a few others went exploring upstairs, in the hauntingly-quiet prison halls. The former examined the hastily excavated hatch and found it largely undamaged, even after the utter walloping it had taken from the Horde. The massive hatch itself was only lightly scratched, even as the concrete floor and the more mundane metal of the hinges was cracked and shattered. He scraped at the Olivite surface of the hatch and tunnel below, but it didn’t even strike sparks. He was about to give up when he found a tiny fragment, wrapped in baser metal. He smashed it with a stone block to break it free, and found himself looking at a small pin around the size of a pencil - part of the locking mechnism or a hinge pin, slipped free from its moorings? Whatever it was, it was apparently indestructible, and probably very valuable. He pocketed it.

Vist and her compatriots were planning to explore the silent halls to better map the sprawling facility, but she was distracted by the console set into a small pedestal near the hatch. She hadn’t been with the group who had seen the Old Guy vault in Fostis, but she recalled someone saying something about seeing something familiar.

She knew better than to touch the buttons, and while that narrow pyramid on the left would fit easily into her hand and was tempting to remove, she figured Grimper would probably want to be alerted to this. But, then again, he wasn’t here. He wouldn’t know if she just… took it.

---
Grimper toyed with some lab equipment he found. He wasn’t sure what it did, but it looked expensive. He bent it until it broke, then chuckled. Petty, but it helped. Now that things had calmed down, it wasn’t really all that bad. He had a net positive of soldiers, he’d learned a little about their operations, and he’d located another Old Guy vault. This one had been emptied of anything exciting years ago, and was clearly being used as a secure storage facility for high risk prisoners. Fascinating, but less useful for him. Directly, at least - the mere knowledge of its position and disposition was valuable to his superiors - but it wasn’t the same as an artifact or weapon. The one in Fostis, however… the crew hadn’t been able to penetrate it, but it was active and hostile, which means it was still full. He needed to get in there… but he also needed to send a message home, which meant taking Noostra’s Thumbscrew.

Also some of his little dumbasses had provoked a Monsterist Slinker of all things and gotten themselves infected like idiots. When they told him he had to bite his tongue and take an angry walk around the perimetre of the vault. What he wanted to do was beat them to death for their failure, but at some point beating a third of his army into mush would stop being cost-effective. They were getting better in a fight, even if their hunting was a little lacking. A lot lacking. Because a hopped up weasel got away with spraying them and they had literally nothing to show for it but cysts on their drat faces. He shook himself back to focus when he heard a small attention-seeking cough. That Zapanda woman; cheeky as hell!

“You have some nerve to-”
“Several of your soldiers are infected.”
“By Skinkekelomas, I know. I was just thinking about how I want to burn them to de-”
“By Wendigo ichor. You know what that means - we’re at risk just being in the room with them. Do something about them or it will cascade.”

He blazed up in a rose-fire fury, then followed her gaze. Gawp the Perciever, Trinh the Taxidermist, Qwäg the Risk Assessor “-the last one has it worst. She’ll turn before the others, and there’s not much I can do about it. I need my research, I need more time!”
“You have what you have. I haven’t decided whether to kill you or not.”

She sputtered and shook and he left her there, gathering up the three infected bodily and carrying them up and out of the hatch into the prison above. “Listen - you’re going to die. I don’t mean in the abstract, I mean soon. You were bitten or scratched or touched, and now you’re on a countdown until you either become a Wendigo yourself or just loving die in agony. This is what I’ve got for you - I can Brand you, which will hurt a lot, but let you be of use to the Horde after it happens. Or you can go out into the wild, as far as you can into their territory, and hope that you turn and gently caress up their poo poo before they take you down. It sucks, but there’s nothing that can be done. I’m not letting you put the Horde at risk.”

(Surpise! Mutation sucks a giant amount! Your 1d6+1 countdown is the rounds you have before you turn - the countdown starts the turn after you post your roll. When the count is up, one of three things will happen: you will either turn into a Wendigo, die… or gain a slight mutation in the vein of other Monsterist soldiers. Don’t count on that last one, it’s a ten percent chance. Now, if you are unlucky enough to get the Slinker Pox (a la Trinh, the unluckiest former Mook), the countdown for mutation is halved, rounding down.

You can accept a Brand - this sucks a whole lot, too. It will reduce your HP (and max HP) to 1, but allow you continue your life within the Horde as a Wendigo. More on that if any of you survive to that point!

To the collosal dorks who ate bits of Wendigo, this will apply to you too!)


---
Magda grimly descended from her Wagon with the pail and hammer and clanged the two together until Grimper arrived. He nodded at her, ignoring her exhaustion, and held out both hands for the tools. She handed them over and followed him down into the belly of the Oh-Gee vault. The Wendigos in their cages shied away from the Nails, falling silent as he passed. His soldiers walked or hobbled to their positions, the new ‘recruits’ put in place by the veterans. He passed the Nails out once again. They felt strange - when tossed experimentally, they landed on their tip, every time. It wasn’t a balance thing, it was-

“My Horde, today you will be pierced for the second time. Some lucky few new faces with be pierced twice. You will continue your path towards usefulness, and you will learn the secrets of luck. Luck is a beast to be wrestled with and defeated by Skill, but even a beast can be tamed. No longer will the mishaps of the lesser plague you. No longer. Take a Nail, each of you, in your right hand.”

They did so, then waited for their orders. “Take your Nail and hold it to your left kidney, in the back, like so.” They did so, bending awkwardly, some even painfully. They didn’t say a word of protest - it was too late for that. They felt the un-wind rustle through them, and they repeated his words in their minds before he said it aloud.
    TAKE THIS NAIL INTO YOURSELF AND LEARN, MY HORDE
He hammered it home, and they felt the Nails in their own grip slide through suddenly limp fingers and pierce their flesh. Again, images burst in their minds, equations and proofs and knowledge erupting like bubbles in their blood, erupting and sinking into their muscles, their nerves, their hearts. They fell to their knees as one.

“The Ritual is complete, Unexpectables…. And yet we have one more task.”

Grimper turned to face Zapanda and her crew. Magda proferred him another pail, and he clanged the hammer against it, then pointed at her. Her crew began to protest, and Zapanda spread her arms like wings to protect them. “NO! I need them! I need them unsullied and clean to do this job! You know what the Nails will do to us. drat you, you know we’ll never cure the drat demon sickness with those things in our brains! I REFUSE!”

Grimper seemed to consider this, then closed the distance in two loping strides and hoisted her into the air, strangling her. “Fine, die, then. You had your chance.”

[HORDE VOTE]
Let her die, or intercede? Why and how? Clearly they were helpful in healing the wounded, and they claimed they could cure Monsterism… but without a Nail they would never be truly loyal. What to do?

(Alright, second Ritual under your belts! This one effectively prevents you (and, crucially, Mooks) from rolling a 1, which is really just pretty irritating. We're still in Downtime, so feel free to do other Downtime stuff if you want, even if just to post your character's reaction to the poo poo that's happening. ALSO feel free to ask Grimper another bolded question - one way or another he's going to be all maudlin after this.)

Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at Nov 16, 2017 around 19:48

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.


Oof, that's a bit rough. I'll go over it in the morning to check all the stuff I inevitably missed.

Edit: oh yeah like the people exploring dddduh

WereGoat
Apr 28, 2017





Name: Hob

HP: 3/3

Glory: 10>6

Ritual Glory : 1

Skill: Bee keeping, Contortion, Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛

Dog Kisser posted:

Hob the Beekeeper was undeterred, however, the promise of a Wendigo’s power proving too much for his rational mind to bear. He made certain he wasn’t being watched, then brought the crystalline mass of the Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛ Core to his lips.
A rapturously loud note burst from his mouth, and he had to clamp both hands over it to stop it from spilling out. His chest felt hot and cold, and his bones creaked around the unfamiliar and unyielding mass that grew within. This was a mistake. This was brilliant. This was a mistake. He was excited. He wanted to sing! He wanted to Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨!

Hob was overcome with curiosity. The spellsingers in the tales, able to shut down foes with their cruel songs, the way the wendigo was "singing" was just like that! Yes! Hob too could be just like the Spellsinger Callas from the tale of Sir BlueHilt and the cave of horrors. If he didn't do this, he would spend his life wondering what could have been. No regrets!
Uh Oh: 1d6 3 +1=4, Hob doesn't explode in a ball of gristle or insta-Wendigo, yay!!

As the core took hold, Hobs chest swelled with air, he wanted the music out on the world, freed. He wanted to split his face open to let more noise out. He clamped his mouth shut. This core was overwhelming. More powerful than beekeeping and contortion combined. Contorting his throat muscles, he suppressed the tune. Repeating his beekeeper mantras in his head, he exhaled. In control. Still Hob the beekeeper, not Hob the Horror.

Dog Kisser posted:

She sputtered and shook and he left her there, gathering up the three infected bodily and carrying them up and out of the hatch into the prison above. “Listen - you’re going to die. I don’t mean in the abstract, I mean soon. You were bitten or scratched or touched, and now you’re on a countdown until you either become a Wendigo yourself or just loving die in agony. This is what I’ve got for you - I can Brand you, which will hurt a lot, but let you be of use to the Horde after it happens. Or you can go out into the wild, as far as you can into their territory, and hope that you turn and gently caress up their poo poo before they take you down. It sucks, but there’s nothing that can be done. I’m not letting you put the Horde at risk.”

Hob was kinda regretting his choices recently. No! It was A͕͈͕ma̭̜̕z̲̥͍̗͘i̜͖n̵̗͈g̠̘̥! Just like the S̡͓̮͎̞̠p͚̰̮͉̜̹̗e͎̪̳͉̣͉̞l̪̙̫͈̱ͅl̵̟̺̟̬s̢̤̹į͇̙̘̬̬͔̯n̸g̵̻̩e̢͙̮̤̣̪͔r̮̱s. But he really really didn't want to die.Detouring via Magda's cart, he grabbed a Shield, he was gonna need it after, and approached Zapanda.

I think I need a B͏̗̘̭̞ŗ͇a̱͇n͏̦͈̝d̵, I am not a fan of D͟͠҉̘̱̫̱̰͙̪̼̘̱̯̳̰̭̠̬́ͅY̸̧̧̯͕͔͕̬̗̼͍̥͖̤͖̭̝̲ͅI̛̙̲̭̬̦͘͠͠͝ͅN̛̛̞̺̞̲͖̤͍̜̖̮̜͇͙̟͇̰̜̗G̴̵̨̩̲̮̲̤̰̳̬̯͍̞͇̬̗̗̝͟ Thank you.

I will continue my life in the horde as a Friendigo.


Voting for Mercy

WereGoat fucked around with this message at Nov 16, 2017 around 19:47

Successful Businessmanga
Mar 28, 2010




Gado!!!
Skill: Digging (+20), Mining (+10), Precision(Held)
HP: 3/3
Glory: 0->1

Gado's cheeks blush, thankfully for his sanity concealed under his mask, as Grimper lifts him by the arm and proceeds to manhandle him in every direction in front of the horde, but his embarrassment is soon over as he's flung off into the distance, crawling back to his makeshift cot to be attended to whenever a medic had time. They'd learned some interesting facts about resonation that could be put to use immediately.

The Luck's Fickle Gaze ritual comes and goes in a flash, some seem to be still taken aback by the pain, but between his near death and subsequent return to health, having been hit and tossed around by Grimper and his miniature heart attack/resonation episode Gado seems to be coming to terms with pain disconcertingly well.

Since it seems like the horde isn't going anywhere in the immediate future, Gado takes a load off and unwraps the odd skillcore he'd pried out of the fleshy confines of the enemy. It was certainly pristine looking, more angular than any other core he'd seen in the past, but his gut feeling about it said it wasn't to be. He didn't exactly want to just give the thing away for free, it had taken a lot of work to get all the gristle off, so Gado wandered off into the crowds in search of a prospective buyer.

Noggins the Carpenter wandered into Gado's line of sight at some point during his stroll and inspiration struck. "Noggins! You look like a Tö who could use a skillcore! I happen to have a nice little Precision core here that could probably help with the whole, uh-" he gestures at her eye patch "-depth perception thing during your day to day." Rolling the core idly in his palm Gado gives a little nod "I know you like to hoard your Glory, so I wouldn't ask you for that, but if you have some stuff you'd be interested in trading you've got first dibs before I try and rustle up a little bidding war over this thing."

Later in the afternoon Gado eyes Grimper and Zapanda's confrontation. If he'd been in a better mood he'd have probably jumped to to her aid, but frankly the doctor had failed to help enough of his hordemates and now was delivering the bad news about the Wendigos in the horde. His patience was strained, and so Gado turned away and began to sift through Doctor Zapanda's research in an attempt to find something Grimper, or better yet the horde's healers, would be interested to learn.

quote:

For Zapanda Let her die who needs her when we can-

-go through her research and become better healers ourselves! Data Mining Zapanda's research for information we can use to further The Plot!1d100+10= 107

Selling the Precision skillcore to Noggins we worked out a deal ooc. Gado gains 1 BALLER rear end SCARF.


Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at Nov 15, 2017 around 08:26

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.



Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 4
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

OOC: Oh, this is so going to get me killed.

Gryph pulled on his brand new medic's cuirass, still chafing slightly around the arms and neck. At least it marked him as a medic, someone who could, theoretically, keep a To together. And so many were going to need his help. The injured list kept growing. At least the ex-administrator had pitched in. Despite her feelings, the ex-Administrator had been capable and collected, triaging and healing where she could. And from what Gryph had been able to parse from snatches, she and her science team were working on a cure for Monsterism!

Monsterism. Gryph knew that a few of the Unexpectables had been mutated. Worse still, Warlord Grimper had been injured by the Wendigos! Could Monsterism infect even the Warlord? And if so, when someone like Grimper turned, if he became a Wendigo...

Gryph was jolted from his thoughts by the clang of hammer on bucket. Magda had handed each member of the Horde a Nail. Even the three who had left with him to the prison above and returned, their expressions sombre. As one, the Horde were pierced the stinging pain of a new Nail Overcome by the flash of a new Ritual. With the others, Gryph sunk to one knee.

Another clang roused him. He heard the cries of the ex-administrator, her screamed explanation for why she and her compatriots should not be Nailed. And he understood. As Grimper began to choke the life from her, Gryph rose to his feet and bellowed.

Warlord! Please do not Kill her!

'We need her! And we need her working! Monsterism is a curse, one that threatens us all! I know, as well as you do, that there are members of the Unexpectables with mutation. More than a few. I don't need to tell you how disease spreads in an army Warlord. She is the only one that will give us a chance at a cure! Kill or Nail her, and The Unexpectables will die. As each person mutates, the spread will grow, until the whole horde, Your Horde, is nothing but monsters, so twisted and different that our name will be Stricken from the To records. We will win no glory, we will not stand as heroes, but as a shameful secret to the To, an army that never existed. You will fade into obscurity, Your victories uncounted.

But we have a chance to ensure that that may never come to pass. Our future, not just of the Horde, but of The Nation of To lies in her research, and I cannot stand by while you kill her. She kept your soldiers from the grave, not happily, but her expertise kept your horde alive. We owe her. And we gave our word. Snodis said no harm would come to her or her kin. Toans have honour, and here is where we will prove it! If you must, Nail one. But do not, I beg you, take away the future of our nation and make liars of us today.'

If I survive I will continue to attempt to heal more people.
Downtime 2: Healing Bugaloo!: 1d100+14 107


Torchlighter fucked around with this message at Nov 15, 2017 around 08:53

Swedish Thaumocracy
Jul 11, 2006

Strength of >800 Men
Honor of 0


Grimey Drawer


Extra Skillcore: Sitting Quietly
HP: 3
Glory: 13->14
Ritual Glory: 2

Grimpner posted:

“Fine, die, then. You had your chance.”


"GRIMPNER, NO!"

Her shout echoed down Nägels hallways, stopping hordemates in their tracks, all eyes looking to she who dared raise her voice against the Warlord.
But Snödis was never one to accept her mistakes as anything but the fault of others; and so she kept going despite the danger.

"Please, Sir, show these torturers your Mercy,
though they are the vilest lot and sow but controversy,
though their missive is misguided and their Science stinks of badness,
in their hearts and minds I know, there lay the secret our of madness.

These Neötypes, Friendingoes all, at least those who take the brand,
Let me be their champion, take up their leash and stand,
with them in their sorrows, for they are my Kind, my Band
Don't let corruption blind you, to the task at hand!

I take it all upon me, their achievements and their woe,
Just let them go, I plead with you,
and I shall make them grow!

Disapproving Poetry to claim Captaincy of the Neötype Squadron: 1d100+15+13 = 108
(ooc: If the consecutive downtimes to not refresh my skillcore, the roll is instead Uncored, spur of the moment Poetry: 93!)

Swedish Thaumocracy fucked around with this message at Nov 16, 2017 around 10:38

The Lord of Hats
Aug 22, 2010





Noggins
Skillcores: Carpentry, Precision
HP: 3
Glory: 19->20
Ritual Glory: 1

Noggins was working. The long pine boxes weren't exactly a pleasure to make, but it kept her hands busy, and that at least made it easier to stay composed after she'd heard Zapanda talking with Grimper about the wendigo ichor infections. That was going to mean more signs, she knew. Sure, they might not be dead exactly, but... having seen those things, death would probably be the merciful option. The person they were beforehand might as well have been dead, after all. Qwäg would have to be first, by the sound of it... Risk Assessment wasn't going to be an easy sigil to come up with, but it could be done. Gawp would be easier, of course--an eye wouldn't be too hard. And--

Her train of thought fell off a cliff as she saw Hob approach Zapanda, clutching a fresh shield in his hands. But... he'd said he had the bow instead when he'd given her his old shield, right? Why would he need the--no. No. Nonononono. He had been safe. He had been safe! HE HAD BEEN SAFE! Noggins felt her heart and stomach plummet. She felt like she was going to throw up. Why? Why did this always happen? Why couldn't she protect a single person? In a furious blur of activity, she hauled an old Stick Ogre off of the cart, stuck it in the ground, drew her sword, and hacked away at it. She sliced and she sliced until she was out of breath and there was nothing left but splinters.

It was an impressive display of pure mercantile courage that Gado was able to approach her with an offer, but while she stared blankly at him during his pitch, when he was finished she immediately unwound her scarf--fine wool, the most wonderful thing she had ever worn--and handed it to him. She didn't deserve it. Not right now. Not when she had failed so disastrously. No, if she wanted something that nice she was going to earn it. And this... well, it wasn't Guarding, like Vist was lucky enough to have, but it could serve. It would have to. She would just have to work harder to make up the difference.

"...Thank you," she managed to choke out, before swallowing the skillcore, feeling it work its way down an unfamiliar tube, slotting neatly into place. As it activated, the world didn't look any different, but as as soon as she moved, the change was obvious. She knew exactly, to the smallest degree, how she was moving. Where her arms were in relation to each other. How far her hands travelled. And when she stopped, she came to a dead halt, frozen like a statue, not shaking at all. Experimentally, she planted another Stick Ogre, carefully examined the grain of its main post and... there. With a single vertical slice, it was cleaved neatly in two.

"Thank you." she said again, this time more confident. She would succeed this time. And if not... the time after that. She wasn't going to stop trying. Not now, not ever.

-----------

At the nail ritual, Noggins didn't hesitate this time. It hurt, yes, but not worse than failure did. And when Grimper turned to Zapanda, Noggins was already striding forward across the circle, standing next to his towering figure--she'd been expecting something like this and she'd had time to really think this one through.

"Sir... I think I might you need to spare her. I don't mean to pry, but... I know you wouldn't be stuck with us if something weren't going on. But if you capture the cure for Monsterism? With nothing but a handful of men? I can't imagine how far that would go towards showing everyone that they made a mistake sidelining you, but I have to imagine it's a lot. And... if there's even a slight chance that we can save someone in the Horde... well, I think we owe it to them.

"This place is a prison. It's not like we've got a shortage of chains to work with, and Snödis has already shown that she can keep an eye on them. Just anchor them to one of the carts, make them tend to the... the... the wendigoes, and we'll have the extra medical help that we need. And maybe we get lucky. Imagine reverting all of Frö's wendigoes on the battlefield. Never having to fight something like that again. I think it's worth it."

She rattled off the plan as she stared up at Grimper. It wasn't comfortable, but if she looked forward, she'd see Hob, and she wasn't feeling ready to look him in the eye just yet.

The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at Nov 15, 2017 around 14:56

Mithross
Apr 27, 2011

Intelligent and bright, they explored a world that was new and strange to them. They liked it, they thought - a whole world just for them! They were dimly aware that a God had created them, was watching them; they called out to him, thanking him in a chittering language, before running off.


The Lord of Hats posted:

At the nail ritual, Noggins didn't hesitate this time. It hurt, yes, but not worse than failure did. And when Grimper turned to Zapanda, Noggins was already striding forward across the circle, standing next to his towering figure--she'd been expecting something like this after she'd heard Magda talk about the lack of Nails. She'd had time to really think this one through.

"Sir... I think I might have another solution. I don't mean to pry, but... I know you wouldn't be stuck with us if something weren't going on. But if you capture the cure for Monsterism? With nothing but a handful of men? I can't imagine how far that would go towards showing everyone that they made a mistake sidelining you, but I have to imagine it's a lot. And... if there's even a slight chance that we can save someone in the Horde... well, I think we owe it to them.

"The point is, we would only be doing this because we're out of good Nails, and there isn't time for Magda to make more. But I took a look around, and while this place got turned into a.... medical experiment...it was a normal prison. It looks like Fostis must have shipped spare ore here for smelting with inmate labor. It might be a long shot, but Gloff is a smith now, and while I'm not a metalworker, I've handled more nails than I can count, and I've recently improved my precision to boot. If we worked together, fired up one of the old forges, I think we might be able to make at least a couple of blank Nails for Magda to finish. And then we get to keep a medical team around without needing to worry about loyalty. Or corruption."

She rattled off the plan as she stared up at Grimper. It wasn't comfortable, but if she looked forward, she'd see Hob, and she wasn't feeling ready to look him in the eye just yet.

The problem isn't the lack of Nails, the problem is the scientists refuse to have their brains sullied by Nails at all

The Lord of Hats
Aug 22, 2010



Mithross posted:

The problem isn't the lack of Nails, the problem is the scientists refuse to have their brains sullied by Nails at all

No, Grimper was going to use fail-Nails for a corrupt ritual because screw them this is good enough for them I don't give a poo poo that they'll go insane.

Mithross
Apr 27, 2011

Intelligent and bright, they explored a world that was new and strange to them. They liked it, they thought - a whole world just for them! They were dimly aware that a God had created them, was watching them; they called out to him, thanking him in a chittering language, before running off.


The Lord of Hats posted:

No, Grimper was going to use fail-Nails for a corrupt ritual because screw them this is good enough for them I don't give a poo poo that they'll go insane.

Yes, but I don't think the Froman's know that. I think they are objecting to being Nailed at all, since they didn't actually look in the bucket or anything. They just saw Grimper pick up a bucket and started argueing.

If I'm wrong then gently caress it and nail them with the crappy ones!

Successful Businessmanga
Mar 28, 2010



WereGoat posted:

Name: Hob
Waiting in line at the carts, he wondered if he could Snag a nice scarf or if they would all be gone by the time he got to the front.
note; if Hob gets a scarf but Gado doesn't, transferring to Gado

The Lord of Hats posted:

Noggins
Her train of thought fell off a cliff as she saw Hob approach Zapanda, clutching a fresh shield in his hands. But... he'd said he had the bow instead when he'd given her his old shield, right? Why would he need the--no. No. Nonononono. He had been safe. He had been safe! HE HAD BEEN SAFE! Noggins felt her heart and stomach plummet. She felt like she was going to throw up. Why? Why did this always happen? Why couldn't she protect a single person?

It was an impressive display of pure mercantile courage that Gado was able to approach her with an offer, but while she stared blankly at him during his pitch, when he was finished she immediately unwound her scarf--fine wool, the most wonderful thing she had ever worn--and handed it to him. She didn't deserve it. Not right now. Not when she had failed so disastrously.

It took a while, but Hob is technically responsible for getting that scarf to me! Good job Hob!

Dog Kisser
Mar 30, 2005

But People have fears that beasts do not. Questions, too.


Yeah they don't know about the meh Nails being used, they just don't want to be mind controlled and forced to work menial poo poo! The leftover Nails aren't guaranteed to fail, either, they're just not the best examples of the craft. Anyhow carry on, just wanted to clarify~~~

Green Intern
Dec 29, 2008

Secret Art: Toxic Crotch Whirlwind!

Hooboy. Will post something later. Leaning towards Not Killing the scientists.

super sweet best pal
Nov 18, 2009



Lipstick Apathy



Name: Portha
Skills: Rummaging, Cleaning (cooldown), Imagining
HP: 2/3
Glory: 8

Portha woke up screaming, the nightmares were getting stronger. Dreams of everyone turning into monsters, an army of wendigos tearing through the world destroying friend and foe alike. Grimper commanding them to consume all that lie in their path. The Imagination core was resonating, but not like she wanted it to. It was getting stronger, the horrors getting more vivid. She'd taken it because she thought it would resonate with her own Rummaging core if it was used to think of places things might be hidden or ways to use the garbage she collected, yet it was growing independent of hers.

Time to put it to use then.

The horde was running low on food. Sure, the burnt bread made good ammo but it wouldn't save them from starving to death if they got caught out in the wild. There had to be something edible the prison set aside for emergencies, maybe the warden had a hidden safe room in case the wendigos got free; it was all a matter of thinking about where it might be hidden. If not, perhaps there were other ways.



Imagine what it'd be like if they were out of rations. What would an army that was starving eat? Assuming they were trying to avoid eating themselves as long as possible.

Grind up the last of the burnt bread, shred some prison records that didn't look important, raid the office supplies for paste, chip stone off the walls and turn it to powder, scrape up moss... anything. Mix it together and see if it's edible.

Think about where Nägel might have spare rations... or "rations" 1d100+23=118

Hope everyone likes eating papier-mâché bread, just pretend it's the real thing.

Horde votes
"They seem compliant and would be more use to us uncorrupted. Put them under guard while they help, until we can do a proper ritual."
Story time: Old Guys and their vaults.

Half-wit
Aug 31, 2005
Idiot savant or just plain idiot? You decide.


Name: Neebs
Skill(s): Sales (+10) (used this turn), Drinking (+10) (on cooldown)
HP: 1/3 -> 2/3
Glory: 1 -> 2

Neebs rested for a few minutes against the wall that Grimper had tossed her to, thinking about her actions. Had Grimper been clear about the danger of Wendigo skillcores? She didn't recall him directly saying not to touch Wendigo skillcores, but...perhaps that moment of hesitation when she went to pick it up should have been indication enough for her to know better. She was actually kind of relieved Grimper had saved her from integrating the skillcore if it was that much of a danger. He was his usual brusque self in stopping her, of course, but he hadn't actually crippled her like the time she saw him tear off Ringo's head-ring. That...could have been much worse, all things considered. She was more convinced than ever that she was on Grimper's poo poo-list (above and beyond the rest of the horde, that is)...but, what could you do? Divesting herself of all glory hadn't let her avoid Grimper's notice. She was pretty much doomed. She could really go for a drink about now. So...that's exactly what she did, get a drink; at least, until she joined the rest of the horde for the Luck's Fickle Gaze ritual.

After the ritual, Neebs had no pity for Zapanda and her crew. They had been the ones that released the Wendigos that had hurt a third of the horde rather severely. Grimper seemed to know a lot more about these things and for all his stomping about and Neebs fear of him, she had the feeling that Grimper had the best interests of the horde in mind. No, let Grimper grimp Zapanda and nail the rest of the Nagel-ites if that's what it took to keep everyone safe.

The atmosphere in here had gotten a bit too serious for her liking, though.

She decided to put together an entertaining sales presentation for the wounded about the wonders of a battlebrüm, and how, for the low cost of 4 glory, they too could be sweeping up the rotting bits of their enemies! Performing a sales pitch like this reminded her of her time before the horde; lifting her spirits a bit. It helped that she was a little drunk when doing the pitch, perhaps her antics would lift the spirits of the wounded as well.
Healing the wounded with an entertaining brüm sales pitch: 1d100+10+1 101(and if it convinces a few Mooks to use battlebrüms, all the better)

After her performance for the wounded, she tried to convince Noggins and Sucy to come drink something with her.

Successful Businessmanga
Mar 28, 2010




Gado!!!
Skill: Digging (+20), Mining (+10), Precision(Held)
HP: 3/3
Glory: 1

Gado is a little upset with himself for taking advantage of Noggins' shaken state, but the luxurious feel of the scarf as it settles around his neck if enough to soothe away his hesitation for the moment.

Meandering around and sifting through the the research documentation is getting a little dull and Grimper still seems to be in a talkative mood, so the Digger begins to wrack his brain for topics the Warlord might expound about. It's been a good few weeks since the horde has had so much time to just sit around resting and so Gado's mind drifts back to a surprisingly spotty past.

quote:

(Grimper is willing to talk about anything bolded in the text in this or earlier updates. I think I flagged everything interesting, but I’ll consider other topics that get traction.

Dog Kisser posted:

Gado the Digger

Dog Kisser posted:

Gado the Digger

Dog Kisser posted:

Gado the Digger

Dog Kisser posted:

Gado the Digger

Dog Kisser posted:

Gado the Digger



"Huh." Under his mask Gado's eyes narrow a touch and his brow furrows. Gathering up the few documents he's managed to rustle up, Gado slinks over toward Grimper and waits for an opportune moment to speak up "Uh... Warlord, sir. I know you're busy, but I was hoping you could fill in some holes. I'm not sure if it's the shock of being thrown around by you from time to time in combination with the Wendigo damage, but I'm having some trouble with my short term memory. If it's not too much trouble could you tell me about what you know about me?"

Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at Nov 15, 2017 around 13:43

Bee Bonk
Feb 19, 2011




Skill 2: Amputation
HP: 3
Glory 15

AJ_Impy posted:

Splut

He reacted instinctively, reaching out to catch and steady her, inwardly wincing as that compressed some of his bruises, but adeptly maintaining his poker face.

"Careful there, those things... they did not go to their ends cleanly. Are you all right?"

His poker face slipped a little, a touch more concern than would be usual overriding his cherished sangfroid.

Qwäg nodded carefully. "Yes," she decided eventually, "I̧͞'̵̷͢m ̕f҉̛iné͜͡.̨͟͞ " Eyes widening, she immediately tore herself from Splut's arms. Silence, then, and the knuckles of the hand clutching her notebook could be seen to blanch. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw Grimper approaching, no doubting the intent in his eyes. "̷H̨҉e͞heh͏͞é,͟҉"͘͜ " she bubbled involuntarily, before slapping a hand over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. "Splut," she muttered quickly, lips pressed together in an attempt to keep any more devilish laughter bottled up, pressing the Whistling skillcore back at him. "I don't want to...ć̵̴ò͠r̸r҉̵u̡͟͡p͘t͠͡ it. Give it to...Ringo; he's crime-adjacent enough to get some use from it." Looking back again, an unhappy Grimper loomed ever closer.
"I need to̵ ͏g͏̴̨ò,̶͢ ̸Ş̕p͏l̴ư͠ţ͜.̴͡. I'll...see you around." She quickly wiped away the tears with the sleeve of her uniform, but not without giggling faintly into the cloth. Lifting one hand, as if to reach out to Splut, but thinking better of it, she awkwardly converted the gesture into a hesitant wave, before turning to Grimper.

Facing the warlord, she steeled her face, even as the corner of her mouth attempted to quirk in laughter.
"I kno͞w͝ ͢t̷he odds, Warlord," she forced through gritted teeth, sweat beading on her upper lip. "Brand m̨e,́ bef͡o͜r̀e҉ it's too l̦̹à̫͈̼̺t̛͓͖̫̮̗e̯͈̮͉." An odd, pained look came over Qwäg's face, like she was struggling to hold in a sneeze or a cough, and she let out something between a snort and a chuckle, agony written on her features. "H̢̕̕͝a̷̵̴̡͜!҉̀̀ ̢͢҉́H̕͢͡͠u̡r̀͘r̸͜y̨̡!͘ "


Returning the Whistling skillcore to Splut, for him to give to Ringo.

Task Manager
Sep 5, 2008

A weird time in which we are alive. We can travel anywhere we want, even to other planets. And for what? To sit day after day, declining in morale and hope.



Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening, Night Vision
HP: 2/3
Glory: 2-> 3

After a few minutes of waiting, Magda returned Gabber's new shield to him. Gabber whistled through his nose in appreciation (a feat that had taken him years to master). What had once been a dinged and slightly worn iron shield was now heavily reinforced around the outer edges, the imperfections having been buffed out and a new coat of paint applied to the front - that looked like him! Magda had really outdone herself this time. Rifling off a quick salute, Gabber turned and bounded off back down the hallway towards the rest of the Horde. Wait til they saw this!!

...

Later that day Gabber was pondering the words Grimper had shared with them. He was definitely a bit ashamed he hadn't resonated yet, despite all assurances that it was totally fine and normal - he just wasn't ready! Maybe he could do something to try and jumpstart the process?The trick seemed to be using back to back alike skills. At the moment he'd gotten 3 skillcores: Mimicry, Listening, and Night Vision. Thinking back on the past few days, he'd most recently tapped Mimicry to raid the FFA; then Mimicry again for marching; and finally Night Vision when fighting the Wendigo. Did Night Vision and Mimicry complement each other? No, not really; Mimicry didn't really go with either of his other skillcores....but Listening and Night Vision, those surely did being two different senses, right? Maybe? Slamming his fist against the nearby wall, a jolt of pain suddenly shot through his still bandaged head. Too much thinking, and he was probably still a bit banged up despite the efforts of their healers. Just do what feels right, he concluded. What could he listen for?

Looking around, he saw several of the new "recruits" mulling about; there was also Zapanda's crew who were moving about and doing their best to avoid Grimper's mighty wrath. A plan springing to action, Gabber nonchalantly began weaving his way through and around the people of Nägel, trying to listen in on their conversations while unawares. Maybe he could pick up on some piece of information that the Warlord would find useful; or maybe he'd learn of a hidden cache of armor somewhere, given he was still sans even a shirt?

Listen in on conversations of the Nägel staff/prisoners, trying to pick up any info that would be useful to Grimper/a hidden cache of armor: 1d100+12 59

...

Eventually Grimper called them all back together, so Gabber ended his spying efforts for now. Magda performed the ritual and gave them their new Nail. A sense of pride (mixed with pain) filled Gabber as he got his second Nail in the short time. He knew their Warlord loved them, loved them so much he'd given them two Nails to prove it! Glancing around at the other faces of the Horde, Gabber checked to see how happy the rest of them were as well. However, that's when he really started to notice for the first time just how many of the Horde seemed to be infected, mutated, or worse; both. He would never call out any of his fellow Horde members for their disfiguring marks, but given he'd just almost ended up a snack for a mutated Wendigo....he slowly took a few steps away from any nearby Horde exhibiting outward signs of any issues beyond standard monsterism.

Snapping back to attention from his brief side train of thought, Grimper filled them in on the remaining task at hand - Nailing the staff of Nägel. Gabber's pride at having received his second Nail suddenly turned to anger at Zapanda refusing to allow it to happen. The nerve! A Nail was a thing of beauty, the Rituals themselves something that Gabber felt was life changing. While he'd likely not want his free will taken away from him like the populace of Fostis, Zapanda and her crew were the enemy. They'd released Wendigos on them; for Reina's sake! There was only one outcome for them: They would be nailed, and if Zapanda stood in the way of that she had to die. Gabber began clanging his shield with his sword, trying to egg on the Warlord to end the woman already!

...

Later on, when Grimper was in the mood to talk some more, Gabber also again tried to bring up the topic of Inhabitancy; maybe he could share a bit more about just what the enemy had been up to here?

-----------

Actions:
Listen in on conversations to find out info/location of armor
Vote to kill Zapanda
Storytime about Inhabitancy

Task Manager fucked around with this message at Nov 15, 2017 around 15:15

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Barbed Tongues
Mar 16, 2012




Pythag
HP: (3) of (3)
Skill: Math, Lying (uninstalled)
Equipment: Armor (+4), Iron Shield
Glory: 4

Pythag was curious about the lab equipment and treatment secrets this place had to offer. He overheard Zapanda's warning about the contagions the Unexpectables we spreading. This, of course, had been the case since the Sungazer - maybe even before with the state of some members. The longer Pythag stayed in the horde, the more likely he'd catch monsterism of some variety. There had to be a better way.

The glass cages of the Wendigos in this place obviously stopped the spread, or the clothes of the scientists, or some kind of spray-gel. Regardless, maybe it was something that could be co-opted. Some kind of fabric or mesh. The disease resistant component layered in-between a workable fiber, he could run the numbers of how many normal to medical fibers would be needed to function...

Action: Try and create a Mutamesh prototype 1d100 + 14 = 47

Hm. Not the greatest start, but maybe a launching point. Pythag paused as he realized he hadn't thought about how a monsterism-resistant fabric would have to be tested. In anycase, he took a trip through camp, looking for others who might be able to help with his project. Others who wanted to remain monsterist and wendigo clean. He approached the following: Bamboo for her Basket Weaving; Grag and their skill with Bandages; Grumbus and his disease knowledge; Humbug's scientific purview; and Portha's cleaning and disinfecting power. Many were already acting busy, but it was a place to start.

Trade: A swing by Magda's has him put in an order for his next armor upgrade. (+1 Armor [5], -4 Glory [0])

Vote: Pythag curls in on himself at the sight of Zapanda being strangled, but he doesn't have the wherewithal to threaten Grimper in any capacity, not after the berating for the scouting party. His cowardice is a default vote for death.

Storytime: Corruption

Barbed Tongues fucked around with this message at Nov 15, 2017 around 16:10

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