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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 (using), Night Vision {cooldown}
HP: 2/3
Glory: 5 -> 6

Gabber eyed the army marching down the road with wary apprehension. He was still in his spot a short distance from the others, but he hadn't needed to worry about missing any approaching forces; there'd been no attempt by the drumming army at masking their approach.

A warlord, he thought, eyeing the walking set of hulking battle armor. Is this Sikatris? Or someone else? Either way, they clearly needed to get back and warn those at Fostis of the approaching danger. With such a small group, there wasn't much they could do. Gabber scratched his chin, trying to think of a plan. They had the element of surprise - maybe they could silently slink off a ways, then quickly make their back once out of sight? There was no way they could infiltrate as their skin color alone would give them away, and their small group stood no chance against a group of this size. They needed the whole Horde - they needed Grimper.

He was about to leave his somewhat secluded position to rejoin the others and try to discuss a plan, when he spied Ringo whispering to those nearest his position, and then suddenly standing up and whistling as loud as he could. Oh poo poo. poo poo poo poo poo poo.

Green Intern posted:

"Holy poo poo! Wait till the boss hears about this!" Without waiting for anyone to get even a step up on him, he dashed off headlong into the woods perpendicular to Föstis, only taking enough extra breath to keep the alarm going. Now, if only the others had enough sense to scram and warn Grimper while the Reds' attention was divided.

Fight or flight kicked in, and his body began moving him in the opposite direction of Ringo with as much haste as he could make. He didn't wait to see if others were following, or charging, or frozen in place. Gabber began bolting in the general direction of Fostis and away from where Ringo was headed with all haste. Have to stay off the road. Have to use the cover as much as I can. Have to warn the Warlord. Oh poo poo poo poo poo poo poo poo. Tearing down the hill side and making towards Fostis with all haste he could muster, the brush and branches of the woods tore at him as he went. He'd eventually have to make his way into the road again, but he needed to put some distance between him and that army first. As he scrambled away from their lookout position, he tried to listen as hard as he could to see if he was pursued. Were they following him, or Ringo and the others?

...he hoped it was the others.

Running Back to Fostis Using Woods as Cover/Listening for Pursuers and Trying to Avoid Capture: 2d100+15 204 :vince: 89 and 100? Hot drat!

--------

Action:

Get back to Fostis, using woods as cover as much as possible. Ultimate goal is to tell Grimper directly, but will warn anyone else he passes on the way, specifically keeping an eye out for Magda.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 05:11 on Nov 25, 2017

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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 (using), Night Vision {cooldown}
HP: 2/3
Glory: 6

As he turned to bolt, Gabber suddenly felt an iron vise on his arm. Vist!

quote:

"WAIT," she hissed, "Don't let Ringo's gamble be in vain." Maybe the mute Hordeling wasn't as doughty a warrior as she believed. "We are going to watch and see how they react, and THEN we will move."

He was certain of it now - the Youster might be balanced of foot, but surely she must be unbalanced in the head. It was an army against ten! And Ringo hadn't moved off to a new position and whistled - he'd whistled from right where she wanted to wait! They'd be on their position in no time, they had to go, now. Had the stalwart warrior in front of him been Grimper or Magda or Snodis he may have listened, but Vist had no rank - he wasn't giving up his life to see what mad plan she had.

OOC: Per the most recent update this sounds like PvP, so Gabber is going to try and break free and proceed with the running. He won't resort to actually trying to harm Vist though - the last thing they need is a fist fight to give away their position.

Yank out of Vist's grasp: 1d100 13 :(

Well gently caress. I am guessing that will lose once gowb rolls - if so, I'll write a short follow-up with Gabber's reaction to the rest of the plan while locked in her grip.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 19:14 on Nov 25, 2017

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 (using), Night Vision {cooldown}
HP: 2/3
Glory: 6

Her grip was like iron! Despite his best efforts he just could not get his arm free of Vist's grasp. Fearing his flailing would draw even more attention to their position, Gabber allowed Vist to yank him to the ground, slamming his chin into the mud and lying still.


quote:

"We were ordered to BLOODY THEIR NOSES," Vist whispered through clenched teeth. She would not be thwarted by cowardice. "If we don't, Grimper will likely have our hides." She waited for the rest to settle down into hidden positions. The wagon, luckily, lay well-hidden in the trees. "Ringo has given us a chance. If they split, we may be able to take one of the groups ourselves. And if not..." she glanced at Mason, "We may be able to arrange a surprise. If we can't ride the wagon down this hill, we can still send it with something for them. An explosive something." She smiled without mirth, showing her teeth.

Trying not to hyperventilate, Gabber quickly jabbed at Vist to get her attention from their prone position. Once he had it, he clasped his hands together, then quickly expanded them outward. He repeated the motion several more times, each a bit more frantic than the last while still gently tugging at Vist.1


1) "Just send it down and blow it up! Send it down and blow it up!!"


Action:
Running Back to Fostis Using Woods as Cover/Listening for Pursuers and Trying to Avoid Capture: 2d100+15 204


OOC: Since Gabber lost the contested roll, he'll go along with laying low for this round to see what the enemy does. Gabber is fully on board with just lighting Mason's explosives, rolling the cart down the hill, and hightailing it out of here. I think we should just do that no matter what the enemy does. Under no circumstances will he get in the cart at this point, :lol: He'll have to be picked up and thrown in for him to ride down the hill at the enemy, trying to jump out at the first opportunity.

So! Count this as a vote for using our surprise round bonus to light Mason's explosives, throw it in the wagon, and push it towards the enemy. Depending on how far time advances, I also would like to run back to Fostis the second we push the cart down the hill.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 06:27 on Nov 26, 2017

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.
:lol:, Dubstep


Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry (using), Listening (+15), Night Vision
HP: 2/3
Glory: 6 - > 7

Picking himself back up after the resounding explosion of the wagon, Gabber risked a glance back towards the enemy. The wagon had done some damage, enough that hopefully Grimper would feel they'd done their part - but the damage wasn't what he had expected. Had it rolled off course at the last second? As the horrible cacophony of the marching...band? swept back into motion, he noticed the enemy Commander's gauntlet being brought back to him, having been found pristine among the smoldering wreckage. Could he fire pieces of his armor like a projectile?! As the giant began taking his helmet off, Gabber had determined he'd had enough fun for one day, and resumed his run back towards Fostis with all haste. Off to one side he noticed Vist running now as well alongside all the others, which he was very happy to see. Better than clamped to my arm charging headlong into battle, he thought. Catching her gaze briefly, Gabber flashed a big smile and gave her a thumbs up. He'd hoped the warrior wouldn't make any mention of his earlier attempt to flee when they got back to camp; hopefully Mason having been able to successfully flee caught her ire more than his failed attempt...

~~--Several Miles Later, Outside Fostis---~~~

Hunched over and breathing heavily, he'd barely had time to catch his breath after reconvening with the Horde before the enemy crested the hill towards Fostis. drat they were fast, and in such perfect order! He'd heard rumors while at T.R.A.M.P.S. of a Frö Commander who'd attempted to synchronize the arts with battle, but he'd assumed it was just that; rumor. To see such a display here today filled him with awe at the achievement, though that awe was quickly replaced by creeping dread at the fact he found himself at the receiving end of it.

Several various shouts went up. Pythag called for those with shields to charge the back line; Grumbus began spewing vile hatred out of every orifice; Noggins called for a rally against the drumline, leading the reckless charge herself and not waiting to see if any joined her. Gabber....Gabber hesitated, as was his wont to do. He watched, unsheathing his sword and shield. The motions of the dance-fighters, the beat of the drumline, the archers all in a line with their stringed slayers - there was a beautiful pattern to it all, as their Commander led the deadly orchestra upon them. Maybe the best way to avoid the wrath of the battle was not to rage against the symphony, but to become a part of it?

Experimentally, Gabber took a step, then brought it back. Another step, then brought it back. He watched Warlord Agenou's mouth as he conducted, mouthing the time out loud. One, two three, four, five, six, seven, eight; one, two, three, four, five six, seven eight; one two three four five six seven eight- now!

Suddenly, he was in motion. He knew Pythag had called for the shields to rally to the back, but he felt the Drummers were the bigger threat. Leaping forth to the beat of the drums, he attempted to close the distance between himself and the War-Drummers, aligning his own motions with that of the enemy dancers. He swayed to the beat of the music, weaving his way through the approaching fighters, and two stepped towards the ones keeping the whole beat going. In his own mind he was the dopest trip.

Mimic the Deadly Symphony - Dance Fight the War-Drummers!: 1d100+17 31 :moonrio:

It.....it was a work in progress. A Beautiful Disaster, if he was being kind.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 14:52 on Nov 30, 2017

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.

Dog Kisser posted:

Not an update, but some relevant info: I spaced on updating the people who Resonated! So let's go through the list because I'm too lazy to formally jam it into the last update.
    Vist’s Jousting has Self-Resonated - it increases in power to +15. Cooldown is refreshed, also.
    Ringo's Whistling has Self-Resonated - it increases in power to +15. Cooldown is refreshed, also.
    Hat's Millinery has Self-Resonated - it increases in power to +15. Cooldown is refreshed, also.
    Gabber's Listening has Self-Resonated - it increases in power to +15. Cooldown is refreshed, also.
    Gryph's Medicine has Self-Resonated - it increases in power to +15. Cooldown is refreshed, also.
    Humbugs’s Skillcores have Resonated - decide whether to keep Science or Sleuthing. The one you choose rises to +20, and the other vanishes, freeing up the slot. Cooldown is refreshed, also.
For those who still haven't Resonated... it'll come in time, sweeties! Don't worry about it, you're just late bloomers!

As Green Intern pointed out, taking somewhat riskier options does seem to help with speeding along things - the entire "Bloody Their Noses" crew (minus Mason, who ran early) all self-resonated. We didn't roll straight 100s either - they were all fairly good rolls, but nothing automatic. Seems that deciding to take a suicidal distraction effort, then roll a wagon filled with dynamite towards an enemy army led by a colossus may have aided the resonating.

Either way - Gabber's an adult now, yay!

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.
What?

GABBER is evolving!





Congratulations! Your GABBER evolved into BIG EARED GABBER...

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 {cooldown}, Listening+ (using), Night Vision
HP: 2/3
Glory: 7 - > 8

While an impartial observer may have been appalled at Gabber's lack of rhythm, he continued dance-fighting as if no one was watching. While this may have boosted his own self-confidence, it didn't stop him from waltzing right into a random mook of the Horde, sending them both crashing to the ground in a tumble of limbs. "Hey! Watch it!" Trying to disentangle himself before he received a drumstick blow to the head, Gabber pushed off the Töan beneath him in a less than elegant manner, reaching his feet and raising his shield to ward off any incoming blows. However, none came - peeking from behind his shield he watched as Splut, Dack, Noggins, and Qwag (especially Qwag) led the charge that began dismantling the drum-line piece by piece. Where did Noggins get that hammer?, he briefly wondered before he was showered in bits of viscera from Qwag's brutal display.

Seeing that his fellow horde comrades seemed to have the War-Drums at close to a rout, he tried to scan the battlefield to see if any other groups needed him more. While it was easy enough to see the duel between Grimper and Agenou, the sheer number of bodies throwing themselves about made it tough to determine which groups might be faltering. Tapping his Listening Skillcore to aid him, he suddenly felt a hot burning sensation from deep in his chest. That feeling rose through his lungs up to his mouth seeking escape; however, finding none through his sealed lips the pressure seemed to build further. Am I dying?! Panic gripping him, he was about to start clawing at his mouth, however suddenly the pressure seemed to *pop*, and he felt whatever it was seem to disperse through his nostrils and ears in a mighty rush. Suddenly finding himself surrounded in a vague reddish haze, panic turned to elation - he'd Self-Resonated!! His parents would be so proud!

There'd be time to celebrate later - for now, he focused his senses on the battle around him. His hearing felt even more highly attuned, the red fog having cleared up his ear cannals better than any Tö-tip ever could have. He suddenly heard a familiar voice cut through the music and sounds of battle.

Prince of Space posted:

"Argh no, let GO!" Verika pleaded, planting a foot in the offending archer's face and yanking with all her might.

With his (now enhanced) Listening skillcore he picked out what sounded like Verika shouting in alarm over by the String-Slayers. Making his choice, he charged headfirst towards where the Horde had stepped-up to the String-Slayers, bull-rushing the closest archer still standing near Verika and laying him off his feet. He then proceeded to start swinging away at any archers within his reach. Time to bring it on!

Listen to the Faltering Beat to Gain Courage/Bull-rush the Archers with Shield!: 1d100+15+7+1 98 :killdozer:


EDIT:

Once things calmed down for a moment Gabber realized that Verika had been trying to strip the String-Slayer nearest her of his weapon (instrument?). Thinking this a wonderful idea, he did the same to a fallen foe nearby.

Rob the String-Slayers of Their Bow: 1d100 61 :guitar:

Actions:

Tap Listening+, Attack the String Slayers, Rob a String-Slayer of their weapon/instrument

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 16:15 on Dec 1, 2017

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 (using), Listening+ {cooldown}, Night Vision
HP: 2/3
Glory: 8 -> 9

The String-Slayers were breaking! Smashing his shield into his current foe, Gabber quickly followed up with a jab of his blade while they were knocked off balance. He skewered the Frö archer in the gut, eliciting a sharp cry of pain and surprise from the man. Retracting the blade, he followed up with a downward slash which ended the fight. He again found himself a moment of respite, the Unexpectables having driven off or killed most of the archers for now.

He was covered in gore thanks to the efforts of Trinh - he'd need to go jump in the nearest lake with a bar of soap from fighting in such close proximity to the Friendigos. Wiping away the bits of blood and muck from his face, he focused back on Grimper - poo poo.

The Warlord was in bad shape, having been largely trounced by Agenou. The enemy Commander seemed to have...obliterated several members of the Horde who dared attack him. Nothing but blood splatters surrounded him. What....what chance did they have if Grimper had been bested?

And yet, the Horde rallied. Shockingly, instead of fear, Gabber felt his rage building. Our Warlord. The man who Nailed us, made us part of him. He saved you from the Loud Wendigo. He needs us - his Unexpectables!

Letting out a guttural scream from deep within, Gabber made a desperate beeline towards the Commander, doing his best to mimic the Brutality of the Friendigos.

Mimic the Brutality of the Wendigo - Redeem Grimper!: 1d100+10+8+1 41

His might paled to that of the full blown mutations of the Neotype Squad, but he hoped he could at least hold off Agenou for a few extra seconds - maybe just enough time for his friends to strike a killing blow. He began swinging franticly as he closed the distance, hoping he soon wouldn't be yet another blood smear...

Action:

Tap Mimicry, Hold Off Agenou

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 02:33 on Dec 5, 2017

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: 9 -> 11 (1+ bonus 1 for holding off Agenou)

Three times. As he lay there in a daze, wind knocked out of him, the only thing Gabber could think of was how many times he had fully flipped in midair while blasted back by Agenou. Three times.

As the battle raged on and slowly made it's way away from him, he looked downwards towards the rest of his body. All in one piece. He'd actually faced an enemy Commander and survived. He even stabbed him once, right above the ankle! A story his grandkids would surely quickly grow tired of, if he was lucky enough to survive this war and actually have kids, who then had kids.

Groaning and slowly getting to his feet, he readied himself to join the ongoing assault against Grimper. However by the time he had steadied himself the deed had been done, and Grimper, their Warlord Grimper, had melted Agenou's face off.

Gabber gave a quick fist pump. There had been deaths, and there would be many more battles before they were done, but for now they had victory. Scanning the rest of the Horde, he took account of who appeared to have survived, and who was among the missing.

As he did so, his eye caught a slight glow off to one side of the battle. Was that...Agenou's helmet? The Commander's armor had been flung all about the battle field at the start, and he'd never gathered it back up. Gabber knew that soon the looting, the glorious looting, would occur. Most would beeline for Skillcores, but he had no more room for any - he was after something more material.

Beelining for the ginormous helmet, Gabber prepared to throw his arms about the far too large for him helmet. If he could claim it, maybe Magda could chop it up and turn it into some sort of battle mask for him? His head still throbbed from his injury in Nagel. Any extra protection for his head would be grand!

Claim Agenou's Helmet!: 1d100 27

Edit: ffs, beaten, by post and by roll. Blargh. See my next post for my new action.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 07:24 on Dec 7, 2017

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.

gowb posted:

Edit 2: gabber is definitely welcome to help! But the helm is MINE! :hehe:
[/i]

:argh: All's fair in looting and scavenging! It also works out well character development wise for Gabber to yet again be bested by Vist. I like their slightly at odds relationship!

To answer your first edit, the way I've always thought it worked was you can do the following during a single downtime:

*Loot ONE free Skillcore (didn't used to be free, but now is)
*Take ONE action, which can be: healing, cooking, looting, or something else (write-in).

Now, I very well could be wrong (maybe DK can clarify, or someone can ask on Discord? It's kind of all over the place with people's rolls - some people are looting and taking an action, some just looting, some taking actions and not looting, with glory sometimes being added and sometimes not?), but therefore I think your roll to claim the armor and craft it into something useable would just be a straight loot roll (1d100), similar to how I was trying to claim the helmet and have Magda make something useful out of it. Then you can ask others to give you their downtime roll as outlined to try and make it even better (Similar to how Starn got his bad rear end battering ram).

Even without your added glory, Vist's roll still trounces Gabber's, so I'll be posting shortly on how he decides to go for easier loot.


Edit: Don't listen to me - see Prince of Space's post below for an accurate breakdown!

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 17:52 on Dec 7, 2017

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: 9 -> 11 (1+ bonus 1 for holding off Agenou)

quote:

Beelining for the ginormous helmet, Gabber prepared to throw his arms about the far too large for him helmet. If he could claim it, maybe Magda could chop it up and turn it into some sort of battle mask for him? His head still throbbed from his injury in Nagel. Any extra protection for his head would be grand!

Before he got halfway there he skidded to a halt. Vist. The youster had beaten him to the juiciest bit of the haul, the helmet. Turning on a dime, Gabber quickly began moving in the opposite direction. He knew better than to get into it right now with Vist, especially since he was hoping she wouldn't end up mentioning their little issue earlier in the day. As much as he wanted that helmet, it wasn't worth it right now. Maybe after this had all cooled down he could have a word; er, a conversation, and try to clear the air. Not now.

He still needed to try and grab something though. He wasn't interested in his repeat of coming up empty handed like he had in Fostis. How embarrassing. Taking a second look around, he was confident he could find something among the wreckage - plenty of people had lost their lives today, and loot was abundant.

Making his way amongst the downed, Gabber kept his eyes open for anything intriguing. It seemed several of the fallen army wore face coverings: hankerchiefs, bandanas, or other masks befitting their dual roles as soldiers and performers. Maybe he could find something that covered the lower half of his face and offered some minimal amount of protection?

Loot a lower half face covering: 1d100 16 :lol: Even worse. Hopefully you are feeling generous with the loot, DK!

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 17:53 on Dec 7, 2017

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.

You're a prince, Prince! While Discord is surely quicker, I think a good summary like this in the actual thread is a huge help, especially given how many new players have recently showed up. Not everyone has easy access and/or time to hop on Discord!

I myself seem to have some how mistakenly thought I could loot OR take downtime action, but not both, so this summary was a big help!

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 (using), Listening+, Night Vision
HP: 2/3
Glory: 11->10

Downtime, Part 2:

Sometime after the initial looting had worn down, Gabber found himself mulling about town again. Truth be told he was a bit aimless at the moment. Grimper was still very much worse for the wear, which was upsetting. Normally the Warlord was there to reassure them of their next steps with his gentle, guiding hand. However, he had lost his gentle, guiding hand in the battle (or was that the sinister hand that was gone? Guess he'd have to wait til he woke back up to find out). Summarily, things were uncertain moving forward. As he mulled about and began heading towards the town square, he soon heard the calls of the Horde's resident Salestöwoman, Neebs and made his way over:

Half-wit posted:

"What ails you, fellow Unexpectable? Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew can fix it. Why, back at Nagel I was one of the worst hit by the Wendigos, but look at me now, hale and hearty, and not a scratch on me! My wounds were healed before we left Nagel and my skin has toughened so I didn't take any damage at all in this latest battle, all because I drank a little of this little draught right here! For you? Free of charge, just tell your friends of the wonder of Neebs Miraculous Wonder-Brew."

Gabber did take a look - Neebs did seem hale and hearty, whereas his own headaches from the Wendigo battle had stuck with him for days now. He had considered going to Doc to get looked at as he feared he very well might be concussed, and Zapanda's crew had done nothing for him so far; one look at her janky eye and he'd decided he'd rather not right now. He'd heard wonderful things about herbal remedies over the years, so he gladly took a cup to see what it would do.

Having received the cup, he paused, staring at Neebs. After a few seconds of silence, Gabber turned a slight shade of red and raised his right hand, using his pointer finger to make a circle motion requesting she turn around. Once Neebs did finally turn for a moment, there was a sudden loud slurping noise. Turning back around, Gabber handed the empty cup back to her, rubbing his stomach with the other hand. That was pretty good! Only time would tell if his head felt better, but already he felt his spirits lifted a bit. He'd have to try organic remedies more often! Reaching into his belt pouch, Gabber plucked a single glory token out and flipped it to Neebs.

Glory: 11 -> 10, 1 glory given to Neebs for the healing brew!

Making his way off again, he felt a little pep in his step. As he journeyed onward, he stumbled across Vist and Noggins appearing to be working Agenou's armor, trying to turn it into something a bit more useable for the Horde. He recalled his conversation outside Nagel with Noggins - her desires to acquire a Captaincy, her invite for Gabber to join, and her mentioning wanting to include Vist in whatever group she formed. Earlier he'd been a bit apprehensive of approaching Vist given his attempt to flee earlier in the day, but for some reason those worries seemed to be somewhat dulled after drinking Neebs' brew. Finding courage of a liquid variety, Gabber made his way over to them as they poked and prodded the Dancer's armor.

Clearing his throat slightly to get their attention, Gabber sheepishly waved at the two warriors. He wasn't aware of their exact plan or what they were attempting to do, but maybe he could smooth things over by offering to help. If Noggins did become a captain, they'd all have to get along, right? He pointed at the pieces of armor scattered about, pointed at both of them, pointed at himself, and then began mimicking what he had seen the two of them doing a few moments ago - pretending to swing a hammer like Noggins, and closing one eye and giving it an appraising gaze like Vist had. While it was true he had not the first clue on how to work armor, what he did have was invaluable for all sorts of situations - the ability to do a good job faking it!

Offering Assistance to Vist & Noggins - Mimicking their efforts to make the armor GREAT again: 1d100+10+10 35

As long as Vist accepts, Gabber is willing to chip in his efforts to make something of Agenou's armor. I'l leave it up to you if you accept or not, and offer him anything in return! He hopes at the least it will help smooth over their earlier dust up - though with that roll he might do more harm than good!

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 18:50 on Dec 7, 2017

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 (using), Listening+, Night Vision
HP: 2/3
Glory: 10

Downtime, Part 3:

gowb posted:

Vist eyed Gabber suspiciously, then nodded once, curtly. "We can use ye, Gabs, if ye want a piece a' this armor." The silent warrior had acquitted himself well in the battle, almost making up for his earlier cowardice - in Vist's estimation, anyway. "I dinnae have any more glory to give ye, as ye well know I owe Mason for the boomstick, but ye'er welcome to another suit a' armor if we can swing it." There was more than enough to go around, in any case. She returned to working on her armor diligently.

Inwardly, he sighed in relief. It seemed he was back in Vist's good graces, for now. He set himself to work, beginning to try and make something of Agenou's armor, for the good of the Horde!...and maybe himself, as well, if he could swing it.

~~Later~~

Gabber's spirit was soaring! He hummed to himself as he walked down the street. Today had been quite a day so far. He'd learned about the wonders of herbal remedies; he'd done his part in trying to help Vist make some sets of armor while mending fences with their relationship; he'd even successfully stabbed a Commander! Agenou had been quite the foe, but thanks to the Unexpectables he'd never show his face around these parts ever again!

As he strutted around, he couldn't help but increase the volume of his humming. His tune continued getting louder and loude- he stopped suddenly. Wait - he wasn't actually humming any louder at all!

WereGoat posted:

Turning round, a giant skull confronted him, scuttling slowly towards him, a droning buzz enjoying from within.

"Ṭ̸̖̮H̬E̛̫͖̠̜̹̟̰ ̖͇̪͈̣̻͞H̞͕E̢̬̟͓̩A̶̗͈D̟̱̪͚̱͖ ͚͔O̱̖̺F̧ ̬̱͝A̫̯̫̞̲̰͜G̟̻̻̻Ḙ̭̞͖̝̣̕N̼̺͖͎̯͔͞O̲̣̹͘U͔͕̝͝ ̪J͔̯̟̟̫̻͘U̴̠̭̠̹D͏̙̹̻̞͕͈͖G̶͇̘͈E̴S̡̼͚͙̼̞͇ͅ ̪̘͉̻͍͇̤͘Ỳ͇̬̼̝O̮̭̘͖U̱̮ ̧̣̠͎͉͇͍Ą͖̰̮N̳̥͈͠Ḍ̣̲̻͞ ͚͜F̟͟I͈̺̺̤̹̰N̹̩̼̞D̨̩͉̘̳̣͖S ̧̻̦Y҉͎̟O͖U ̬̗̜̦͈̹͠W̙̖̩̹̦͙O̗̮̣͉͈R̲͈T̖H͜Y̙"

The skull doonks onto the ground.

Gabber recoiled in fear, trying to shuffle backwards but only managing to fall to the ground in a heap - undead Agenou was back for vengeance, his warbling voice coming to judge him guilty for his crimes! Raising his arms in alarm and having not had time to get his shield ready, he awaited his doom!

quote:

"Hey Gabber" Hob's voice called out cheerfully from the eye socket. "Nice mouth guard" a hand popped out from the eye socket, giving thumbs up.

Hob! Despite the macabre get-up he was wearing masking him hiding inside of it, Gabber recognized Hob's voice clear as day. The increased humming had been the buzzing of Hob's bees! Putting his hand over his heart, he took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself. All just a prank. Climbing to his feet, Gabber exaggeratedly wiped the sweat off his brow. He then pointed to the new addition to his face and returned the thumbs up.

quote:

"Your body is looking kinda unprotected though". Hands emerge from the nose of the skull, holding armour. "Take this".

Out of the skull's nose came the armor. Gabber noticed two things immediately:

1) The armor was one of the most beautiful things he had ever laid eyes upon. Clearly crafted with care and made out of a strange colored metal, Gabber had never been close to owning anything so lovely in his entire life. It was amazing.

2) The armor was clutched by what appeared to be two very insectile looking hands, which were not limbs he had ever seen Hob sporting before.

A mix of emotions and thoughts hit him all at once: Wha? It's amazing! But why? I didn't do anything to deserve this? !!! His....his arms....he's transformed...Wendigo... During the chaos of battle against Agenou's forces, he hadn't ended up by Hob's side at all, and therefore hadn't realized the bee keeper had successfully transformed into his new Wendigo; no, Friendigo form. He was glad his friend had survived his transformation, but so far his interactions with Wendigo - friend or foe - had all largely been consumed by violence. It had taken him an hour to scrub off the results of Qwag and Trinh's efforts on the battlefield. Was Hob still.....Hob?

He resisted the urge to try and get a closer look inside the skull, fearing his reaction depending on what he might see. Instead, he focused again on the armor in front of him - the beautiful, resplendent armor. For the first time he noticed the emblem on the chest, what was that design?

Suddenly, it hit him. He'd noticed it while helping out Vist and Noggins earlier. Noggins had been doodling the distinctive design in-between working the armor. Here he found it now on the armor Hob was so generously bestowing on him. Reaching out, Gabber accepted the gift, and the arms retracted back in through the nose.

quote:

"What do you think of the skull, spooky huh? Anyway, catch up later" the skull rose again and scuttled away, followed by some bees.

He watched as Hob scuttled away, the buzzing beginning to fade as he still held the armor to his chest. While Gabber was no longer a very talkative fellow, his years of silence and Mimicry training had made him very good at picking up on things left unspoken. Looking back down at Noggins' emblem emblazoned on the chest, it suddenly made sense why Hob had given it to him. He knew Hob and Noggins had been - were close, and he knew how difficult this Wendigo business must have been for both of them. How Noggins had clearly wanted Hob to join her crew when they talked at Nagel, but now he was with the Neotype Squadron....the emblem may have been Noggins' symbol, but the message it carried may as well have been written out in black and white right beneath it, plain for all to see.

Protect her. Looking back up at the departing skull, Gabber nodded once. He would.

~~Even Later!~~

He'd heard Magda had advised that due to their successes the Horde could grab up a piece of armor or weapon for free. Never one to shy away from free loot, Gabber perused what was available and hadn't been picked over yet. Two things really stood out at him: the Reedblade or the War Drum. He'd finally gotten some armor thanks to Hob's kindness - he'd need to find some way to repay the man soon enough; maybe he could ask Noggins at some point what he'd like? The reedblade was an upgrade from his trusty sword, but the war-drum would surely help morale if used correctly. Those War-Drummers kept the opposing army in the fight far longer than he expected them to. He briefly considered the Bowharp, it's benefit being staying out of harm's way - but no, he couldn't. Not any longer. He needed to honor Hob's wishes. No fighting from the back while Noggins charged ahead.

Making up his mind, Gabber grabs the War-Drum. It came with the rig the War-Drummers had used, allowing it to be latched to the front of him while keeping both hands free. It'd take a bit to get used to the added weight, and he'd have to learn how to actually play the drat thing, but he hoped it would make a difference.

Finally, there were the skillcores. He'd not had to do the actual corpse digging this time, as the Skillcores had been laid out prime for the picking. He saw they'd also been labeled - how nice! He wandered among them more out of curiosity than anything, and watched as fist fights almost broke out over Agenou's ripe cores. Making his way towards the cores with the least attention, Gabber did spy one lone skillcore that looked familiar - another Listening skillcore. Hm.....

Seeing no one rushing to grab it, Gabber decided to pocket the Listening skillcore. Maybe there was a way to force a self-resonation by adding an identical skillcore to the one he already had? He wasn't sure of the answer, but figured he could ask Magda once she'd tended to Grimper.

ACTIONS:

To summarize everything Gabber is doing this downtime, since holy moly did a lot happen:

quote:

1) Rolling for loot: Loot a lower half face covering: 1d100 16 -------- DK if this roll is lovely enough to not get anything actually useful, or if by claiming the War-Drum I can't roll for more loot, can you still please add a cosmetic item modifier to Gabber, giving him a stylish handkerchief like the War-Drummers wore in your one picture, covering the lower half of his face?
2) Downtime Action: Offering Assistance to Vist & Noggins - Mimicking their efforts to make the armor GREAT again: 1d100+10+10 35
3) :eyepop: Accepting Hob's wonderful, amazing, ore-refined armor :eyepop:
4) Free Loot: Taking a War-Drum
5) Free Skillcore: Claim the Listening Skillcore: 1d100 44 -------- DK - I'd like to check with Magda (you) when possible. Is there anyway Gabber can incorporate the Listening skillcore to the one he already has safely, to cause an artificial resonation? Willing to spend glory if needed, but Gabber won't try to integrate it unless Magda gives him the go ahead.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 20:22 on Dec 9, 2017

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening++, Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 10

Downtime, Part 4:

Task Manager posted:

Seeing no one rushing to grab it, Gabber decided to pocket the Listening skillcore. Maybe there was a way to force a self-resonation by adding an identical skillcore to the one he already had? He wasn't sure of the answer, but figured he could ask Magda once she'd tended to Grimper.

Gabber began making his way off towards Magda to ask about safely integrating his skillcore. It wouldn't do to be hasty about this. Rash decisions resulted in what he just witnessed happening to Gado - no sir, he did not want to face an angry Grimper over whatever might happen should he try to incorporate a 4th skillcore when Grimper had specifically told them not to-

He didn't see the tree root before it caught his foot, sending him sprawling towards the ground. Not wanting to smash the precious core underneath him as he fell, Gabber twisted his body sideways, thrusting his arms and precious cargo upwards - and right into the side of his head.

He hit the ground with a thud and saw bright flash of light - the skillcore was gone, and not smashed into tiny pieces around him. Uh-oh. He pushed himself into an upright position, shakily getting to his feet. Unsure of what to do, Gabber just stood there for a moment, arms slightly out to each side as if preparing for an assault from any angle. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. Nothing. His hammerring heart began to slow down, his muscles relaxed.

***Play this while reading the next section to try and set the mood for what I imagine Gabber may have went through for a moment before Listening ended up attaching correctly***
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afbKXWCQMvE

Suddenly whisperswhispers eeeeeeevrywhere from multiple peopleatthesametimeyou're worthless GABBERWho was that? Spinning around to confront the voice behind himNOONETHERE!im down here What was happeningBIGMISTAKE shouldn't have donethat! Clutching his headour head now he started running, he needed someonestupidstupidstupid he kept running but he actually wasn't runningBREATHE Clutching his headour head wetoldyouwetoldyou, he prepared for the worstcoward hahahaaaaaaaa

A slow, hazy cloud of red fog made its way out of his ears, nose, even his eyes - and as the fog left him, so did the voices, slowly petering out into nothing. Covered in sweat, he took in his surroundings - he was in the same place, right where he had tripped over the tree root. Had he even moved at all? What.....what had almost happened to him?!

Taking a few deep breaths to try and calm himself, he hoped that the worst was over. The voices had ceased for a good thirty seconds - his hearing seemed to be a bit better, and the red fog was a sure sign he'd resonated. Thank goodness - the worst seemed to be ov-

The Lord of Hats posted:

"Hey, Gabber!"

Spinning around, for a moment panic overtook him again. Thankfully, this voice was coming from an actual person. He saw as Noggins waved at him and made her way over. Not a disembodied voice - just Noggins.

quote:

"I know we talked about this before, but I spoke to Grimper and, well... he gave the go-ahead! I know that Snödis suggested it, but it was that chat with you a while back that really made me feel like this was a thing I could do. So... if you're still up for it..." she held out one of the sigils she'd carved "It'd be an honor to have you join."

Somewhat muted given the recent disaster he'd barely averted, Gabber nonetheless put a weak smile on his face and accepted Noggins' sigil with both hands. He was definitely still up for it, and gamely nodded at Nog- no, the Captain. Order of the Nail, it said. Without thinking he rubbed the nail on his shoulder, looked at his new sigil, then back up at his Captain, and suddenly felt much calmer inside.

Edit: There was something here - now there isn't! Action to come later!

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 23:56 on Dec 14, 2017

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry {cool down}, Listening++ (using), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 10-> 11 -> 12 (Action glory + Vist's glory)

Downtime, Part 5:

(As Hob noted, the retconned exchange we had is back from the dead! The below events occur after Gabber accepts the priceless gift from Hob and the giant skull)

The Lord of Hats posted:

"Oh, uh... I didn't have anything actually planned after the speech. You guys are free to do what you want, go ahead! Sorry if I kind of ruined the mood there!"

As the first official gathering of the Order of the Nail dispersed, Gabber took a look at the other "knights" of his Order. Noggins had gathered quite a capable and diverse group here, from what he could tell. The group had a charismatic and courageous leader in the Captain; a deadly duo in the form of the HUGE Vist(who had kindly given him a glory token for his help with her armor earlier - progress!) and the BIG Somnö; arguably the smartest (and most armored) member of the entire Horde with Pythag; and the stoic ranged specialist Verika.

Then there was Gabber. As he wandered off he wondered what role he filled, or what the others might have thought about his inclusion in the group. None could argue he hadn't held his own in battles so far (and he'd kindly accepted the sashes Sucy had been handing out to prove it), but he wasn't the warrior that Vist and Somnö were. He had been cunning at times, but surely Pythag could think circles around him. His ranged ability was non-existent, and he was sure Verika could turn a target into a pin cushion before he could even manage to string a bow. He knew from conversations with the Captain she was glad to have him aboard, and was fine with whatever he could bring to the Order; however, he felt he might be a bit more confident if he could carve out a better identity for himself within the group. With his Listening and Night Vision Skillcores he was already a pretty decent scout, however he knew he could do more - needed to do more.

One recent thing that had set him apart from his fellows was his selection of a War-Drum from the haul. The abilities of the War-Drummers had been fascinating, and if he could manage to get even half as good as they had been at dictating the tempo of the battle the Horde and the Order would be in great shape. He knew next to nothing on how to drum though, or what made the War-Drummers so special. He needed to find someone with some musical talent.

Without realizing it he had walked into the middle of the beginnings of a party while deep in thought. Mason had gathered some of the Horde for a, what had he called it before, a Hoot at Annie? Gabber hadn't met Annie yet, but he did spy Rik across the way setting up for one of his guitar solos. Perfect! The exact kind of musical talent he'd been hoping for. Making his way over, Gabber hoped he could convince him to teach him what he knew about music and keeping a beat. He would listen with all the attention he could give to whatever advice he offerred. Who knew; maybe some other musically minded Horde member would notice and offer their help at making him better at the drums as well?

Listen to Rik's Advice on Playing a Beat - War-Drum Practice: 1d100+20+11 48

quote:

Actions:

Try to get better at (upgrade) the War-Drum: in the vein of real life music, I'm hoping practice makes perfect - or at least, practice upgrades the ability of my War-Drum over time as I get better at it! Glory upgrades seemed like cheating for learning an instrument, so Gabber begins his occupation as a struggling musician with the goal of unlocking better drum abilities.

Ask Rik to help a la how we helped make Vist's armor -> adding his 1d100 to the effort: I know Rik is largely an NPC at this point, so I'm commandeering his assistance as the Horde's musician to help my efforts. It would be silly to do this every downtime with any NPC, but I'm hoping this gets an OK because Rik teaching Gabber music is the ideal situation. That being said, if anyone is looking for an action and wants to type something up about how they help Gabber get better at the drums, he'll certainly remember that when it comes time to upgrade some combat rolls...

Storytime: Commander Sikatris - totally forgot about this, so....uh...... "While learning the drums he heard from a random mook that Grimper was getting gabby again and was asking for opinions on stories, so he grabbed them and 1) Pretended to be sick, 2) used both hands to pretend to make cat ears, and 3).......drawing a complete blank, he quickly waves both his arms, motioned for a piece of parchment, and wrote down "Commander Sikatris", shoving it into their hand.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 16:25 on Dec 15, 2017

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry {cool down}, Listening++ (using), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 12

Dog Kisser posted:

“Let me guess - you’re here for stories. Let me guess again - you want to know what was up with that rigamarole with Agenou’s guts? Hmm? Fine, let’s talk. Warlords - and Commanders - have more Skillcores than the rest of you. I think one of you tried to take in a fourth; moron. I warned you against it and now you’re Destabilized. It’ll wear off, but you can’t just fill yourself up with Cores. If you tried really hard to hold it in, refused to let the Destabilization force you to drop it, you’d just end up Corrupt, like if we screwed up a Ritual. Not pretty, not fun. Nothing as glamorous as those Wendigos strutting around. Don’t try it in my sight, I’m already sick enough of looking at you as you already are.”

Hearing the Warlord's words on multiple cores....Gabber was now worried. The Warlord seemed to be indicating that if anyone of the rank and file tried to consume a 4th skillcore, the results could go one of two ways - Destabilization, or Corruption. He clearly meant Ringo when he mentioned some moron inhaling a fourth, the Lockpick's attempt having resulted in a very public display of half-digested Agenou cake getting spewed everywhere. Gabber, despite his minor bout of hearing voices, felt fine now. He clearly wasn't destabilized - but did that mean he was Corrupted?

When Grimper walked outside to continue his speech, Gabber hastily made a quick exit the opposite way, towards Magda. There was no way he was asking the Warlord for clarification and outing himself publicly as a moron, so the next best bet was Magda. The Nagel scientists might have been more help, and he'd go to them if Magda was clueless, but he didn't trust an unailed Zapanda to be honest with him. Reaching the Nailsmith's wagon, Gabber helped himself to some nearby loose parchment and writing utensils. As Magda watched, he began furiously writing out his question for her. After several minutes of painstaking effort which she surely was getting tired of waiting for, he handed over his piece of parchment, and looked at her with worried eyes:



He couldn't be any clearer about what was going on!

During Downtime, Ask Magda if she can explain why Gabber took in a fourth skillcore and isn't Destabilized or Corrupted!

yes I can draw better than that yes it is supposed to be intentionally lovely

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 23:04 on Dec 15, 2017

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.
Given that the OG cut off some legs for knocking at their front door, I think if it's not flat out death it has to be reduced to 1hp permanently/main skillcore gone. They've been painted as brutal assholes, so whatever happens should suck real bad and not be something one can recover from easily. A slap on the wrist isn't their style.

I'll be honest though, I wasn't expecting outright death for 9/10 people. It was clearly "bad news" for all involved, and I definitely thought the last place finisher was probably a gonner, but I didn't think 9 out of 10 were going down. If you're second guessing yourself and the people who sat at the table seem a bit raw about it, cripple them at 1hp, add a scar to their portrait, and take their main skillcore is my vote. That allows people to continue on with their character while showing once again that the OG do not gently caress around.

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.

Dog Kisser posted:

Not properly fixing things until I'm at the office (on job site currently), but this is what I settled on.
  • Ringo stays as is
  • The dead do not, in fact, die!
  • All their imperfections are removed (monsterism in all forms, Slinker pox, hang nails)
  • They take one of the two following penalties. EITHER:
    Lose Primary Skillcore/Drop to 1/3 HP
    OR
    Keep Primary Skillcore/Drop to 1/2 HP
  • Additionally, some sort of visible stigma in their portrait
That way it's still not pretty for the losers, but at least you're not out of the game entirely.

My two cents (so feel free to ignore, but you did ask for opinions) - that's pretty fair except I feel like it should really be Lose Primary Skillcore/Drop to 1/2 HP OR Keep Primary Skillcore/Drop to 1/1 HP.

Otherwise, Horde members who are happy to ditch their core skillcore almost seem like they're getting rewarded, and are a quick Mushbruwm/round of healing away from no lasting effects. I like Mimicry, but I also have run out of room for more skillcores - what's to stop me from hopping in a chair and rolling the dice? I either turn into a Super Soldier or take some healable damage and have an open skillcore slot.

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+20), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 12 - > 13

Magda posted:

Gabber had a question for Magda that he related through gestures and drawings. To his surprise, she replied in kind - though extremely quickly, her flabby arms flashing through gestures almost too fast to be understood. Sometimes you can force Resonating by taking a core matching one you already have attuned. The closer in Aspect, the better the chance, with identical cores almost certain. Otherwise you get sick and waste everyone's time like you're wasting my time. She punctuated the flurry by slinging a failed Nail at him, nicking his cheek and sending him scurrying away.

The failed nail did its job in driving him off. Gabber turned and bounded quickly away from Magda's tent, hand reaching up to wipe away the small trickle of blood that had formed. Gabber felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he wove his way back from the wagon. He was going to be fine! Or at least he thought that's what Magda had stated back to him. He had picked up on most of it, and he knew the High Nailsmith was a woman of many talents, but she appeared to be a master of the Spatial Arts even surpassing himself! Had she attended T.R.A.M.P.S as well at some point, he wondered? Always so nice to meet someone who speaks your language... Gabber's heart beat a few beats faster as he recalled the deftness and skill with which she had shared her message, the few precise shakes of her arms expressing the idea of Resonation as clear as day...stopping cold, Gabber quickly shook his head violently from side to side. No. Nope nope nope. Desperately seeking out something, anything to clear his current train of thought, he noticed Stårn puttering around with some sort of siege weapon. Stårn! My good good friend Stårn! Half walking half running towards Stårn's position, Gabber threw himself into siegework for the next several hours.

~Later~

Wrapping up his jam session with Rik, Gabber packed away his drumset for the time being. Rik had managed to impart at least enough for Gabber to pick up on the general idea of keeping a beat, but he'd been far more focused on trying to explain the intricacies of stage diving than making him a competent musician. It'd have to do for now - maybe he could pick up things next downtime and try again? As he left the site of the Hoot at Annie, Gabber walked past Sucy and Neebs peddling more of some sort of wondrous herbal remedy. Ever since drinking Neeb's Brew his head felt right as rain, so he scrambled to pick up a free sample of their next effort. Maybe they have a mailing list I can join for updates on their wares after the war?

~Even Later~


Gabber felt elated, having been lucky enough to receive his Third Nail. He wasn't all that worried about not being able to move afterwards; he trusted the Warlord to know what was best for them, his favored Horde. However, his eyes remained peeled as the 20 others gathered received their own Nail; a Nail he wanted no part of. The glassy look in their eyes, several asking aloud who they were....it was an ugly, ugly business. The Horde needed manpower, but weren't Zapanda and her group doing well enough for them unailed? Weren't the populace of Fostis staying well enough in line while remembering who they were? To utterly forget one's self...Gabber shook his head. No, too cruel. Oh Gee cruel, he decided. And Oh Gee cruel was where he now drew the line. Their Warlord loved them - they had 3 Nails to prove it - and he had brought his Unexpectables so high from where they had once been. How could a man who loved them so, be so utterly cruel, even to deserters and enemy combatants? Just kill them and be done with it, not this. He hoped the mean streak in their Warlord did not continue, and was a temporary result of having recently had his rear end handed to him by Agenou. Without Grimper they were doomed - but were they doomed with him as well? The whole situation felt futile.

As he contemplated his thoughts Humbug suddenly addressed the group, laying out his case for how their trusted surgeon had killed their trusted poop-chucker. lovely business, that. He didn't want to believe it, but Humbug's case seemed airtight. Gabber couldn't do anything to make the situation with the 20 Nailed people right, but he could do something here. Be brave. Be an example. Stepping up out of the gathered crowd, Gabber stepped in between the sleuth and the surgeon, unstrapping his shield (but leaving his sword sheathed, for now) and trying to keep the two at arms length. If what Humbug was saying was true, Doc might snap at any moment. He'd let the others talk it out and see what they believed, but he could at the least try to keep control of the situation and not let anyone come to harm undeservedly.

~Much Later~

The situation with Doc resolved (maybe), it came time to decide their next target. While he agreed with the Captain that war mounts would be quite the boon, he felt that going to Noostra was the bigger need right now. People back home needed to know what was going on out here - and maybe they could even get word to those in Command about Grimper's increasingly rash decision making.

quote:

Actions

Keep the peace between Humbug and Doc - more of a flavor thing than an actual roll, but depending on Doc's actions if it comes to blows roll Gabber's combat ability to assist Humbug.

Vote for Noostra

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 23:00 on Dec 21, 2017

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+20), Night Vision (using)
HP: 3/3
Glory: 13 - > 14

Dog Kisser posted:

Humbug’s accusation shook the Horde - those that were listening, at any rate. Doc was conspicuously absent, ostensibly busy elsewhere… but Grimper wasn’t. He considered the evidence carefully, tapping his finger against his lips. ”...We need all hands on deck. While you make a compelling case, your evidence is circumstancial. War is a messy business, and our enemies were extraordinarily precise. Could you tell me with absolute certainty that core removal was post-mortem? That Agenou’s men, hopped up on his magic, couldn’t have sliced it out as some sick game? Granted, the bone spears are a particularly egregious hint at malfeasance, but perhaps she worked with what she had? Now, I’m sure you were quite thorough, but I don’t have time to hold court.” He tapped Humbug on the shoulder paternally, then moved to leave and made his way back to Agenou’s corpse.

With Humbug's accusation having gone over about as well as a wet fart with the Warlord, Gabber placed his shield back on his back and walked off dejectedly. Yet another recent, questionable example of the Warlord having made a decision that didn't seem to line up with the Horde's best interests. War time necessities were one thing, but letting a potentially murderous surgeon continue with unabated access to those in dire medical need didn't sit right with him. He'd be damned if he let the Doc near him while conscious, but what if he were knocked out and put under the knife? Would he wake up minus one skillcore, or maybe minus a kidney, and be told again that it was necessary?

To further his frustration, the Horde was going to Öxnyard. Some of the more vocal members of the Horde had made their case well for why Noostra wouldn't have been the wisest choice. He still felt it was foolish not to try and report back home for various reasons, reinforced Noostra or not. They'd have to tackle the city at some point, and he'd rather they just get it over with.

Gathering up his meager items, he soon found himself on the long march to Öxnyard. At Noggin's urging he volunteered for the second shift, and also tried to keep the fast pace as best he could. Disturbingly, he found that the slower he seemed to move the heavier his armor began to feel. At first he just thought he'd not done well enough to keep up with his daily calisthenics, but after a good five minutes of a steady pace he was sweating through his undergarments and sliding his face wrap up onto his forehead as a makeshift bandanna to keep the sweat from his eyes. He knew Hob's armor was special and quite heavy, but was there something to it that increased its weight the slower he moved? He'd have to test it out as the days went on.

Actions: posted:

Second Shift Marching - Night Vision Assistance: 1d100+10+13 58
1) B - Second Shift
2) C - Fast Pace
3) D - Raid and Explore
4) Regency Council

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 20:01 on Jan 8, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+20), Night Vision {cooldown}
HP: 3/3
Glory: 14

Action to come later once we get orders from the Captain - for now, emboldened by his chat with Magda, Gabber is going to claim the Listening Skillcore and slam it to his ear.

Claim Listening Skillcore: 1d100 1 RITUAL POWER GO

Claim Listening Skillcore - RITUAL REROLL: 1d100 16 :smith:

Edit: L'sFG notes it works on "conflict and combat" rolls - I imagine if I'm rolling against others that's a conflict, but if not whatevs.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 16:36 on Jan 8, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+25?) (using), Night Vision {cooldown}
HP: 3/3
Glory: 14 -> 15

By the time their march was over and they'd finally reached Oxnyard Gabber was sweaty, muddy, wet, and just plain exhausted. During the day they'd marched and fought off all manner of foe both organic and natural. During the night he recuperated, when he wasn't on watch. He'd been thankful for any chance he'd had to take off his armor and just lay back, giving his aching muscles a rest. That beautiful magnificent, somewhat bizarre armor.

As the days of the march wore on and he became more accustomed to his new armor, it had become more and more clear that what Hob had made was truly special. The faster Gabber moved the lighter the armor would become. At first he thought it was in his head. However, he soon found rather than keeping a slower pace to conserve energy, it benefited him to continue moving as fast as he could. It made no sense, but as soon as he began to pick up his pace his armor became almost translucent, and it felt (and looked) like he didn't have any armor on at all. While that was wonderful for marching, he worried greatly about it's combat capabilities. Days later on his Second Shift watch his armor had it's first chance against an actual foe. While running down some refugees Gabber had tripped and fell, face-planting into the mud. Sensing a chance to strike back at the Horde, one of the refugees had gained some courage and took a swing at his prone form with a wooden club. The refugee's club had shattered on impact, with Gabber no worse for the wear and not so much as a scratch on his plate mail. It had taken everything he had to stand back up and strike down his foe as he now felt twice as heavy, but thankfully the poor soul had been struck dumb by the sheer stopping power of his hardened heavyweight plate and posed no further threat. The slower he moved, or possibly even the more he screwed things up, the better his armor protected him in battle. Quite bizarre!

Having received his orders from the Captain, he moved off to intercept the Second Patrol with the other members of the Order. He considered briefly ignoring Noggins' request and tailing her secretly, to try and make sure she didn't go and get herself killed alone trying to be a hero. His unspoken promise to Hob fresh in his head, he declined tailing her for now. This was the first real order she'd given them, and he didn't wish to upset her by disobeying right out of the gate. He'd check in on her later once the Second Patrol went down.

He'd recently gathered and incorporated another Listening skillcore, with himself having felt no worse for the wear. No evil voices this time. Putting his even more adept hearing to good use in ambushing the Second Patrol, he waited for the perfect time to strike.

Ambush the Second Patrol - Listen for an Opening: 1d100+14(glory)+25(listening)+10(Captain Orders)+1(sword) 76 --- Base roll of 26 - :siren: so add +10 to my armor for a total of +13 this round! :siren:

All that waiting resulted in him not giving the enemy his best strike - however, he could already feel his Heavyweight Plate increasing in resistance to counterbalance things. No way would an enemy unit be able to penetrate it!

Actions posted:


1) Claim Listening Skillcore - 1d100= 16
2) Attack the Second Patrol - 1d100+14+25+10+1 = 76 - however, base roll of 26 means Heavyweight Plate increases to +13 for the round

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+30) {cooldown}, Night Vision (using)
HP: 3/3
Glory: 15 -> 16

Under the combined might of most of the Order of the Nail (and friends!) the second patrol met their end with a watery grave. The dock had also been shattered into a million pieces by the sheer BIGNESS of Somnö; no one would be relaxing by the lakeside here any time soon. Their mission accomplished, Gabber passed out congratulatory high-fives to anyone who wanted one then ran back to reconvene with the rest of the Horde before they were discovered.

--------------------

Back with the rest of the Horde, an unlucky spotlight had unveiled their location as they had crept through the night towards their prize. Grimper called for the advance, and Gabber did not shy away from his duty, picking up speed towards the foes rising to meet them. The usual mix of fear and nerves were there, but he'd found they were now buried deeper and deeper after every successful battle, less a factor than ever before. He was a knight, he had three Nails, fantastical armor, a sturdy sword and shield, and a bottle of herbal remedy ready to go. He was getting full of himself, and convinced that nothing could stop the combined might of the Unexpectable Horde.

Scanning the advancing enemies he saw many formidable foes, however one seemed to stick out like a sore thumb due to his sheer size and large maul tiny hammer? He wasn't a Commander, or at least he didn't look like one. However, he was big, tough looking, and most importantly would probably crush their morale if he were to fall during battle. He'd be the perfect target.

The Lord of Hats posted:

"KNIGHTS OF THE NAIL!" she shouted. "HEAR ME NOW! Pythag, get the Önager on target! Gabber, keep Pendelo busy! Everyone else, to me! Let's show Frö that beasts are no match for our valor!"

Perfect. Blinking his eyes in the practiced pattern, Gabber switched on his Night Vision and began clanging his sword on his shield to try and gather the attention of those nearby. Whomever joined him they'd likely need stout defenses, so he hoped he could gather up those with shields to join his gambit.

Forgemaster Pendelo - Night Vision Assist: 1d100+15+10+1 98 +10 for Captain's Orders: 108 - Base Roll of 72, so armor remains at +3

He'd seemed to find a sweet spot where his combat effectiveness was as high as it could be, while his armor remained solid and non-translucent. Good. Time to take this big bastard down!

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 14:25 on Jan 17, 2018

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.

WereGoat posted:

Eeeh, colours washed out, will scan and reupload tomorrow but

Raaaar!



:aaaaa:

I love it so much it is fantastic! :bravo:

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry (using), Listening(+30), Night Vision {cooldown}
HP: 3/3
Glory: 16 -> 17

His heart pounded in his ears as he made the charge towards Pendelo, a small group of rallied attackers rushing with him towards the large brute with the comically undersized hammer. While his weapon of choice seemed foolish, Gabber knew better than to judge a book by its cover. The Captain's Hammer wasn't all that impressive looking either, save for some intricate designs on the front. However, he'd seen how effective it was in combat. It would do no good to underestimate the large man in front of him.

As he made his charge there was a sudden shrill whistle, and he noticed with a speedy blur that Ringo the Pick was rushing to meet the large foe as well. Gabber's heart beat a few beats faster - Good. Having the Horde's own super-soldier fighting by their side would be invaluable. He liked the odds his small group had against the brute, but with Ringo? No way he could withstand them.

As he neared ever closer he watched the battle unfold; watched the brute make a haymaker uppercut swing towards their top-knot-ch fighter; watched it shatter to pieces against the Wendigoad, a brutal series of sweeps and kicks from Ringo; then finally, watching the brute rally as if he had nine lives, clutching Ringo in a sturdy grip. They were almost upon them, hold on-

Putting on a last effort burst of speed Gabber crashed into the melee, swinging with all his might into the armored thigh of his foe, staggering him. Yet still he stood clutching Ringo, and now he made a grab for Gabber as well. Trying to dodge out of the way he found his armor pushing back against him heavily. It was no use, and he was soon in his grasp as well!

However, he went no where, and with a shock watched as the man's muscles bulged with the effort of trying to lift him. His armor! It was too heavy, he couldn't pick him up! As the brute continued in vain trying to lift him, Gabber kept swinging as hard as he could at his armor, and watched as the remaining number of his group crashed into the scrum with whoops and hollers, also now beginning to rain blows on the large foe. Surprise turned to shock turned to pain, real pain - they had him on the ropes. If they could take him out their morale would shatter!

As the man continued to try and lift Gabber and his face had begun sinking lower and lower towards the ground, a sudden idea came over him. Yes, if he would hit it would work - no one would get back up from such a blow. Steeling himself and waiting for the perfect opportunity, Gabber attempted to break free of the brute's grasp and took one step, planted his foot, and with a sharp twist of his body swung his word in a low arc with all his might behind it, stepping forward with his other foot and driving his sword upwards in what he hoped was a deadly uppercut swing that connected right in the man's chin - an imitation of the exact blow he had tried to just put on the Dekatö.

Forgemaster Pendelo - Mimic a Deadly Uppercut Swing!: 1d100+16(glory)+10(skillcore)+1(sword) 69 79 (forgot to include Captain's orders for +10) - Base roll of 42, armor stays at +3.

It wasn't his best effort - but hopefully it would be enough to put the man down for good.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 15:36 on Jan 17, 2018

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.

Dog Kisser posted:

Not updating today (obviously!) but want to do some book keeping - is there anything that needs art done, item or otherwise, that needs doing or that you want? I also want to update the fanart page with the several pages of it I've missed. Alternately, is there any general backstory or lore that you want OOC expansion on? I'm feeling creative but not like writing a whole update :P

Magda and her first Horde, Asskickers I think they were called? Let's hear more on them.

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry {cooldown}, Listening(+30), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 17 -> 18

What Room Am I In?: 1d6 4 - Spiked Room

Holding action and description until later tonight, no time now.

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.
No one wants to join poor Gabber in the spiky room? Bunch of pointy things, some angry knights, horesmen, some soldiers, and a lone mimic? Bunch of spikes? Anyone?

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry {cooldown}, Listening(+30, using), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 17 -> 18

The big man had fallen! He had fought til his last breath but in the end, like so many others, the Unexpectable Horde had proved to be too much for him. Time for the rout to begin!

Turning to face the nearest group of foes, suddenly he was encased in a whirlwind of noise, construction, and darkness. It sounded like a house had fallen on him, but in truth it seemed to have fallen around him instead. Gabber had raised his shield above him in alarm to stop any rubble from burying him, but soon the noise died down and he found himself unscathed, but in a room of nightmares. Spikes, spikes everywhere, and where there weren't spikes were mostly enemies. Not good...it seemed that Janue had placed them all in a dungeon?

Looking around Gabber spied a few familiar faces, and gave Hat a quick nod. It seemed they were outnumbered. Truthfully though, how often hadn't they been outnumbered? Clanging his sword against his shield a few times, Gabber joined in on Hat's charge towards the horsemen. They were the biggest threat right now, and maybe if they took them out first the tides would turn? While he squared off against them he peeled his ears for any indication of attacks from the flank or rear. Hopefully with his great hearing no one would get the drop on him, but to his horror suddenly his armor felt far too light...

Room 4 - attack the horsemen, use hearing to guard against flanking: 1d100+30(skillcore)+17(glory)+1(sword) 137 - base roll of 89, armor is -7 for the round...

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+30), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 18 -> 19 -> 11

As the walls of his temporary dungeon had begun to fade, spikes which had once held the pinned bodies of the enemy forces also faded to nothing as well. With several thick, meaty *THWACKS* the bodies fell to the ground, various fluids and organs beginning to seep out onto the grassy ground beneath them. Staring at the closest one, Gabber gazed long into the still features of the punctured horseman. If his lips weren't sewn shut maybe he'd have made some sort of crack; something about how it seemed that the enemy Frö had finally gotten the point, maybe. As he was though, no one liner came forth. Just Gabber, the silence, and the guts of his enemy spilling out as their death trap seemed to have backfired spectacularly.

Looking over he saw Hat still nearby collecting herself. It amazed Gabber that he ever thought the Milliner may have actually been some sort of Fröman spy - she'd proven herself many times over, and was instrumental in them besting the room's combatants here. After wiping off his blade and sheathing it, he gave her a big thumbs up, and then made his way over towards the rest of the Horde waiting in the ruins to find out the casualties, and begin the looting.

-----------------

Gabber frowned. There'd been losses; not as many as he had feared given the trap that had been sprung. Still more than he'd liked to have seen. The group stuck with Janue seemed to have suffered the brunt of it, with several people critically wounded - those among them the newly de-monsterized bee-kee--singer, Hob. A pang of guilt washed over Gabber as he witnessed the mangled form of his benefactor. He still hadn't repaid him for the marvelous gift. It was time to pay back that favor, with interest if he could.

Gabber stalked among the skillcores, searching for a match to one of the three he knew Hob already had. Hm.....no Singing or Contortion, but he did spy a Riding skillcore. Well, it wasn't Butterfly Riding, but Magda had said that skillcore integration had less of a chance of rejection the closer it was, right? Maybe the distinction of species wouldn't matter, or if he didn't want to risk it he could always trade it.

Claiming Riding Skillcore: 1d100 92

Pocketing the skillcore, Gabber made his way off to Magda with his bag of glory firmly in hand. After waiting in line for a bit given the demand for her services, he reached the front of the wagon and gave the High Nailsmith a polite bow befitting her esteemed position. He carefully set down four glory tokens on her cart, and proceeded to fill out the upgrade requisition form in front of him. He also then quickly scribbled a short message on another piece of parchment, pocketed it, and gives 4 glory to Magda, requesting that she upgrade Hob's butterfly harness to +2

Bowing even further after the transaction was complete, he quickly bounded away back towards the wounded. He had considered getting Hob a shield, but wasn't sure if the Singer would need it given his trusty bow and flatpack; wasn't sure if he could even use it now that he was back to only 2 arms and needing bow to use a bow and arrow. Finding Hob among the injured, he found he was a moment too late to catch him conscious, as they'd just finished placing a vial of medicine under his nose and setting to work on his arm. Asking for a moment before they started, Gabber walked up to his friend and gently place his hand on his shoulder. drat. He'd not seen him up close since the OG incident - while his Monsterism was cured, it had seemed that the machine had still done a number on him judging by the scarring. drat OGs... His arm was also fairly mangled, but Gabber hoped the medics would repair that quick enough.

Releasing his grip on his shoulder, Gabber found Hob's pile of equipment stacked gently to the side. He carefully removed the harness from the pile (quickly explaining to lookers nearby he wasn't stealing it, only borrowing it), and in it's place left the Riding skillcore and the slip of parchment. Noticing Hob's caterpillar eyeing him as well, Gabber had a momentary flash of inspiration. Digging back out his glory pouch, he proceeded to feed 4 tokens to the little bug and pat it gently on the head. Soon one day Hob would be terrorizing the skies!

Feed 4 glory to Hob's Crimsonwing caterpillar

He then left, bringing the armor back towards Magda. When Hob awoke and read the parchment, he saw in (fairly awful) handwriting:

"Hob,

I took your harness. Magda has it. Should be better than new. Just like your arm will be. I left a riding skillcore for you. You have a nice caterpillar there.

Thank you again for the armor. It has saved my life several times now. Get well soon.

-Gabber"


---------------

Having found Captain Noggins alive and well, but in no mood to talk, Gabber quickly set out to begin his guard duty as ordered. By the time he was ready to get started he had noticed several of the prized warbeasts were corralled back up and ready for the claiming. As he walked among them he saw several fine beasts, but knew he had found the perfect match when he came upon a sturdy looking Charger clad in heavy, sturdy armor. It was clear the animal was used to bearing a heavy load, and whatever beast he claimed would surely need to be able to with his Heavyweight Plate. Grabbing the reigns and hefting himself up into position in the saddle, suddenly Gabber had found the missing piece of the puzzle he never realized had been gone in the first place. It felt good on that horse. drat good.

Setting off at a gallop, Gabber began patrolling the outskirts of town, getting a handle on his mount while trying to mimic the imposing figure of the knight from old stories.

Claim an Armored Charger - Free Loot: 1d100 41

Mounted Guard Duty - Mimic the Knights of Old: 1d100+11(glory)+10(skillcore)+10(orders) 55

He'd get the hang of it eventually.


EDIT: Removing the "Guard" roll as my action - new loot below is too shiny to NOT tempt Gabber.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 14:29 on Feb 1, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+30), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 11

Task Manager posted:

Having found Captain Noggins alive and well, but in no mood to talk, Gabber quickly set out to begin his guard duty as ordered. By the time he was ready to get started he had noticed several of the prized warbeasts were corralled back up and ready for the claiming. As he walked among them he saw several fine beasts, but knew he had found the perfect match when he came upon a sturdy looking Charger clad in heavy, sturdy armor. It was clear the animal was used to bearing a heavy load, and whatever beast he claimed would surely need to be able to with his Heavyweight Plate. Grabbing the reigns and hefting himself up into position in the saddle, suddenly Gabber had found the missing piece of the puzzle he never realized had been gone in the first place. It felt good on that horse. drat good.

Setting off at a gallop, Gabber began patrolling the outskirts of town, getting a handle on his mount while trying to mimic the imposing figure of the knight from old stories.

Claim an Armored Charger - Free Loot: 1d100 41

Part 2

It was rough goings at first; the Mimic had never actually ridden a horse before. Trying to learn how to use the reigns and guide his warbeast took a bit of trial and error. While he did manage to get the animal to patrol the outskirts for a bit, it was clear that it knew Gabber had little idea how to actually command it correctly. It was likely the beast had been trained through spoken command, for the most part, and when Gabber's futile tugs at the reigns were followed up with silence, the horse decided to take things under his own initiative. After about a half hour of patrol, it begin wandering back to town at its own leisure, ignoring any further attempts to spur it onward. It cantered towards the nearest watering trough, drinking deep. It seemed done with attempting to listen to Gabber for the moment.

With a sigh, Gabber hopped down and waited patiently as he drank his fill. This is going to be more difficult than I thought. As the beast drank, Gabber began searching the saddlebags and packs loaded onto the horse's flanks. He hadn't really checked anything before hopping in the saddle, which was foolish. Fishing around inside the packs on his left, he managed to find some oats, which he quickly offered up to his new companion. Stopping his drinking for a moment and giving a tentative sniff, he soon began devouring the feed in record speed. Finished with that handful, he began nudging Gabber for more. Checking the right saddlebag, Gabber's fist hit something far more solid. What was that?

Reaching deeper into the bag, Gabber suddenly found a....

Does Gabber Find a Knightly Blade?: 1d100+11 36

(Probably not.)

quote:

Actions for this Round:

Free Skillcore: Claiming Riding Skillcore: 1d100 92 ---> Giving it to Hob

Give Magda 4 glory to upgrade Hob's Armor to +2

Feed 4 glory to Hob's Crimsonwing caterpillar

Free Loot: Claim an Armored Charger - Free Loot: 1d100 41

Action: Rolling for More Loot - Does Gabber Find a Knightly Blade?: 1d100+11 36

***If three people don't claim a Knightly Blade by Downtime being over, Gabber will take one himself. I'm trying to claim it with a roll, not my free action, so if others take the free action I move down the list. If 3 people do, then maybe I'll see what's left of the +3 weapons and take one of those. Otherwise, I'll see if a 36 (haha) is good enough to find an extra.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 15:03 on Feb 1, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+30), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 11

Sometime before Grimper Grimper-ing

Having newly equipped himself with trusty steed and a blade befitting a knight, Gabber suddenly found himself overloaded with things. Never had he ever had so many wonderful things in his life! However, at some point soon his warhorse would likely collapse under the sheer weight of what was asked of it. Regretfully, Gabber had to let go of some things!

Digging through his pouch, he came upon the bottle of Mushbrëw he'd been saving for a special occasion.



Part of him wanted to simply uncork and chug the thing - he really did enjoy the taste of these wonderful herbal remedies - but seeing some of his fellow Horde members still injured from the last battle, he decided to share the healing.

:siren: OOC: Gabber is overloaded and needs to ditch something. First come first serve on the Mushbrëw, however Gabber will only give it to someone who is actually injured. :siren:

Next up was his old, trusty sword. It had served him well all throughout his time with the Horde, but the merits of a sturdy shield had been proven many times over. Dual wielding was for those with little self-preservation, so out the sword went.



:siren:OOC: Next out is the sword. With all these +3 weapons out there I don't know why anyone would want it, but if you do speak up. Otherwise he'll donate it back to Magda for brownie points.:siren:

The Grimpering

Dog Kisser posted:

“Well. What do the rest of you think? Shall we abandon our duties to report to the Council and allow our enemy to reinforce their already advantageous position? Or shall we seek our Glory on the dawn?"

Gabber had recently had some severe misgivings about the way Grimper was running things. Sure, he'd always be grateful for the Nails he'd given them and how far he'd raised them, intentional or not. However, once where the Mimic had seen someone with their best interest always in mind, he'd more and more begun to see signs to the contrary. Throwing lives into the OG vault in a mad quest for power; erasing the memories of enemy combatants wholesale by way of the Nail; getting his rear end kicked by Agenou; not really giving any credence to Humbug's findings on the case of their demented Doc (RIP); and finally dressing down Captain Noggins, the most noble and heroic of them all.

Gabber had initially voted to go straight for Noostra in the hopes somehow they could get word of the Warlord's grievous injuries and poor choices back to command, to ensure the Regency Council knew just exactly what was going on out here. Nevermind it being a drat near impossible task to get a message off without Grimper knowing - they'd find a way, hopefully - but they were really out here without any sort of life preserver other than Grimper. Magda was past her prime, and the Horde was no longer slouches themselves, but if they went up against another Commander without Grimper? It'd likely spell complete failure. No, what they needed to do was get a message back, in any way they could. To find out if there was any hope of the Regency Council intervening. And if Grimper got word of any sort of mutiny, what was to stop him from just yanking his Nail and killing them all?

No....as much as he had his misgivings about Grimper, there was no way now was the right time to go against him. Better to get word back home and let the superiors deal with it.

Calling upon his years of silence to hide his feelings, when prompted Gabber gave a thumbs up and pointed in the general direction of Noostra. Given that Gabber was in agreement for going to Noostra with all haste, he therefore was not willing to fight Grimper on it should things come to a head now. In fact, so sure was he that this was not the right time to push the matter, should things become escalated he will try to hold back anyone attempting to actually fight Grimper, (with an opposed roll if necessary to try and de-escalate).

quote:

TL;DR

Go to Noostra
Will not fight against Grimper if it comes to it
Will actively oppose anyone actually attacking Grimper by trying to hold them back via opposed rolls

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 18:16 on Feb 5, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+30), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 11->12

Gabber inwardly huffed a sigh of relief that the standoff had (temporarily) not resulted in any bloodshed. As the Warlord so kindly pointed out, they were currently on the Grimper Rollercoaster and there was no way to exit early except by jumping off. If anything were to be done about their Warlord, it would have to be timed correctly. As much as they dragged their feet, the Unexpectables were going to Noostra to meet their fate, so Gabber was glad to see no actual physical altercation had occurred.

-----------------

By nature of his sealed mouth, Gabber largely stayed out of the discussions taking place on their course of action. He didn't get paid to talk - in fact, given he was conscripted he wasn't being paid at all right now. He trusted that the Captains would do what they could to guard the Horde as best they could. All Gabber could do was do his best, try not to get killed, and maybe, just maybe, find some way to get off some sort of message to the Regency Council about Grimper's continuing rash decision making. The fact that he was deadset on Noostra when two other Thumbscrews were possibly easier targets boiled the mimics blood, but what could be done about it now?

When the Captain gave her speech, Gabber nodded along. He hadn't really been seeing eye to eye to his Captain lately on attempting to dissuade the Warlord, but he admired her drvie to shield and protect the Horde in whatever way she could. He wasn't sure what the Captain may be planning, but if they agreed on one thing it seemed, it was that their trust in Grimper was waning fast. Gabber would follow Grimper's orders here as he had no choice, but if things came to a head in Noostra Gabber would give serious consideration to anything the Captain attempted.

------------------

Gabber doesn't have much to say (hah) about any of the various plans - he'll do whatever his Captain decides is the best course of action for the Knights. Regarding Humbug - Snoop, Humbug, Snoop!

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 17:17 on Feb 12, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry, Listening(+30, using), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 12->13

OOC: From what I can recall no one ever claimed that bottle of Mushbrëwm I offered up two votes ago - so what the hell, Gabber will chug it before battle to try and calm his nerves. You do not want to know how he does this.

Chug Mushbrëwm: 1d4 4 - +5 to next roll



-------------

So it had begun. Giving the Captain a firm salute from atop his steed (who still needed a name....Gabber would think of one if he survived Noostra), Gabber set off at a gallop in the opposite direction of Verika along the perimeter of the Horde. If Verika was the Eyes of Knights, Gabber was the Ears, and so he tuned his hearing as best he could to pick up on any advance threat bearing in on the Horde. This would surely be the most important battle of his life, and he would need all the luck and skill he could muster here if he was to survive.

For now though, he would protect. As he rode around the perimeter, he occasionally banged his sword against his shield as he was want to do, trying to keep morale high - but also to try and make himself a more tempting target. How far he had come from the cowardly mimic who would have rather feigned death than make himself such a target. A smile smile crept up his face as he rode along.

Hearing the Will of the Horde - Gabber is here! (Cover the Others!): 1d100+30(skill)+1312(glory)+10(orders)+5(mushbrewm) 58 :siren: NAT 1 REROLL :siren:

Suddenly his new Nail thrummed with a frightening energy, and Gabber felt his own morale boosted beyond it's natural state!

Hearing the Will of the Horde - Gabber is here! - 2.0(Cover the Others!): 1d100+30+1312+10+5+10(reroll bonus) 152 Muuuuch better.

Edit: I miscounted my glory - should have only rolled at a +12 this time. Amended the rolls above to reflect.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 14:30 on Feb 14, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry (using), Listening(+30, {cooldown}), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 13->14

Nail thrumming and with sword and shield raised, Gabber advanced forward towards Noostra alongside the advancing army and their mantelets. The Captain had yet again shown what a wiz she was with a hammer, as most attempts from the men on the walls to plug the Unexpectables with arrows met a resounding thud against their sturdy structures. Scanning the distance Gabber saw no army marching out to meet them; heard no flapping on the wind of advancing butterfly riders. The city was buckling down and trusting their walls to hold - blessedly that meant their advance would be a bit easier, but he wondered what awaited them inside should they manage to make it past the walls.

Closer and closer they pushed forward, Gabber trotting and wheeling about on his steed deflecting arrows that appeared to be in danger of missing some of their defenses. His shield almost felt like an extension of his arm at this point he'd been with it so long, and by the time they had reached the walls he could no longer count how many blows had been deflected by it. Still it stood strong - he could kiss Magda for the work she'd put in reinforcing it for him.

Splut and the Infiltration crew and Starn and the Siege Team had done their jobs well, taking what could have been a long drawn out siege and forcing the city to crack wide open under subterfuge and sheer sieging goodness. With the walls having been cleared as well he easily trotted into the city proper alongside the bulk of their forces, for the first time in his life taking in the Frö city of Noostra. And it was a ghost town.

As he rode about the streets of the city trying to corral some of the mooks of the Horde forward and away from straight looting (they had a job to do!), a single scream broke out through the still air. Snapping his head towards the sound, he caught the briefest glimpse of one of their own being bound dragged away by something - a rope? - as suddenly the still air was shattered by the sounds of countless windows being broken, almost as if in unison. The much talked about Inhabited had finally entered the fight.

Beginning to make his way towards the bulk of the enemy forces to meet them in battle, he soon saw Sikatris, saw the few suspended members of the Horde - was that Humbug?? - and saw in horror as a shot rang out from an impossible distance and took down a Nailbound, flinging him to the ground as if he was a ragdoll.

poo poo! His steed had spooked for a moment, but he quickly attempted to regain control. That was not good. The shot had reached its target before he'd even had time to react to defend his Hordemate. Whoemever was taking shots from the relay also appeared to be picking off the Nailbound. As distasteful as Gabber had found Grimper's use of the Nailbound here in battle, their sacrifice was something Grimper had banked on allowing them to succeed here today. If they got picked off one by one without loosing their explosives...

A plan soon began to form. The best way to get him to stop picking off Nailbound was to get him to focus on something else. As a tiny voice within his own head began yelling at him to not even think about it, Gabber did his best to ignore it as he trotted out in front of the nearest group of Nailbound. Striking as commanding as a pose as he could, Gabber began moving up and down the lines on his horse, making odd grunting noises and pointing this way and that as if he actually commanded any troops. In truth he was reciting and acting out the famous third act speech of Warlord Clapper from the seminal ROM2-period classic, Lord of the Monsters: The Twin Warlords; though given his mask, sewn mouth, and inability to talk anyone close nearby would likely have no idea what he was doing.

However, to someone far, far away, out of earshot, and possibly looking through some sort of scope? Gabber hoped he looked like a high value target trying to rally and give orders to the troops. Armored horse, mystical armor? He'd be a sweet target, one he hoped the enemy could not pass up. If he could draw the sniper's fire he was confident he could see & hear it coming in time to deflect it with his shield. And if not?

He gulped, once, single bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. Ears and Eyes, don't fail me now....

Mimic a Famous Commander - Draw the Sniper's Fire! (Distract Lieutenant Knock): 1d100+10(skillcore)+13(glory)+6(sword & steed)+10(orders) 129 - :siren: Base roll of 90, armor is reduced to negative -4 this round (3 Heavyweight Plate + 3 Armored Charger - 10 roll > 80 = -4) :siren:

He felt he had given what may have been one of the performances of his life. Which seemed like it may soon be in jeopardy, as he watched his armor quickly go translucent...

EDIT: Added plus 10 to roll for Captain's Orders.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 02:08 on Feb 21, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry {cooldown}, Listening(+30, using), Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 14->15

Truthfully, he hadn't even really seen the sniper's shot - he'd been foolish to even think he'd be able to get his shield up in time against such a weapon, and such a shooter. No, it was the sound of it he heard a split second before lunging out of the way, no time for him to raise his shield arm. An all too fast *fwwwwht!* before a sudden pain shot through his face, and he clattered to the ground and off his charger in a heap. He felt pain, but far less than expected. Looking around he saw the missed bolt disintegrate into nothing, and quickly raised his hand up to his face, drawing away his own blood. Grazed. Could have been far worse. He was lucky. What was he thinking?! Posing as a target had been foolish, and he'd been inches away from his own death.

Gathering his wits and scrambling back to his feet, Gabber raised his shield to watch for any follow up shot. Blessedly none came. Maybe the shooter saw him tumble from his saddle, and moved on to a new target? Whatever the reason he wasn't complaining, as he clambered back up in the saddle with all haste. Desperately looking around for Captain Noggins, he spotted the warrior shouting orders to the Knights and attempting to rally the troops forward as Noostra was consumed by madness - Inhabited by Madmist. Her eyes soon met his from across the way:

The Lord of Hats posted:

Gabber, you take the--" she spotted Humbug out alone, doing something with the threads. Whatever it was, he was vulnerable. "Scratch that! Cover Humbug, he's going to get shot otherwise!

Humbug? Wasn't he suspended in the threads moments ago? Looking to where the Captain was pointing, he saw the unmistakable sight of their resident sleuth hovered over a dense tangle of threads, unmoving, and far from the grouped up Horde about to make a move down the street. Gabber wasn't sure what he was doing, but he knew Humbug had been their advance scout here - he had to imagine whatever he was doing may have been the result of some knowledge gained during his time here.

Kicking his charger into gear, Gabber galloped towards the exposed Unexpectable with all haste. Dodging mooks and Inhabited fighting to the death as he went, he managed to reach the sleuth in quick order, deflecting a stray arrow from harming the man with his shield just in the nick of time. Humbug hadn't even flinched, too focused on what he was doing. Hadn't he noticed how exposed he was here?! Just what was he doi-

Gabber's eyes widened as he ordered his horse a few quick steps backwards. Humbug was hovering over a dense knot of the the threads, uncorked bottle of Sacrifire clutched in front of him. Was he going to drink it?! Screaming out, "Nooo!" ("Nrrrr!"), Gabber got over his momentary shock and was about to charge forward to knock the bottle out of his hand, when he saw the sleuth begin to angle it forward, away from his mouth and towards the shimmering strands. Lighting the threads on fire! It was reckless, and Gabber had no idea if it would even work and/or work too well and blow them both up in the process; but was Gabber any safer out there among the Inhabited, a sniper, or the Madmist? Humbug was smart, and needed protecting, so he would do what he could to allow his plan to proceed. Dismounting his horse, Gabber ran up closer to the sleuth and readied his sword and shield. They'd do this together.

As he got closer he watched as Humbug's hands shook badly - he appeared injured too, and given the circumstances anyone's nerves would be on edge. Gabber reached up to wipe away more blood from his face, feeling the fresh tear of his Drummer's Wrap in the process. Wait, drums.....

With no close threats around them for the moment, Gabber sheathed his sword and swung his War Drum around to the front, having rigged it up with a makeshift contraption on his back. Agenou's forces had used the power of music to synchronize their actions - he'd only ever had one jam session with Rik before, but maybe, just maybe, it would help in this time of need?

One hand clutching his shield and attempting to deflect any blows making their way towards Humbug, Gabber' tapped his Listening skillcore to help him keep a beat. Taking a deep breath, with his other hand he began a slow, steady drumbeat, increasing the speed slowly, trying to remember what he could of how Agenou's Drummers had done it...

Using the War Drum - Aiding Humbug with a Beat!: 1d100+30(skillcore)+14(glory)+10(orders) :siren:126:siren:

In the midst of the chaos of battle, those nearby may have suddenly heard cut through the battle what sounded like an amateur drummer banging incoherently on a cheap drum. To Gabber, and hopefully Humbug, it sounds like the greatest drum solo of all time.

quote:

Actions:

Using the War Drum to replace Humbug's roll - his 28 becomes a 126 *Gabber is not included in any combat rolls this round*

DogKisser - not a roll, but as an added action Gabber would like to step in and take any damage Humbug may receive this round. Consider this the protection part of my orders - since I felt the War Drum was more important to fix that nat 3, I can't actually try to stop any damage coming in, so Gabber will just take it to the face.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 06:00 on Mar 1, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry (using), Listening{+30, cooldown}, Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 15->16

His drum solo and Humbug's deadly dance sequence having ended in explosive success, Gabber emerged from his hiding place. The strands which had so vexed the Unexpectables were gone, and he and Humbug were no worse for the wear.

Scribbleykins posted:

Things had actually gone according to plan, thank all that was good and Tö... and Humbug knew who to thank for that. The sleuth turned to Gabber with a sharp gleam in his eyes.

"Hum! Gabber the Noblemime! drat glad you had my back there. I'm putting in a recommendation with Noggins and Grimper for you if I survive. Now let's get back to the fight!"

Turning a slight shade of red, Gabber looked at the ground and kicked feebly at a loose pebble before looking up and giving a slight shrug. "Aw geez, it wasn't that big a deal." Securing his drum behind him again and clambering back up onto his charger, he offered his hand to sleuth below. Once they were both in the saddle, Gabber quickly urged his steed back towards the group at large as they continued pushing forward towards the Thumbscrew...

~Sometime Later~

Having dropped off Humbug (who soon seemed to be wrapped in deep conversation with the Captain Snödis), Gabber made his way through the chaos and sacrifire explosions to his own captain, Noggins. She was doing her best to keep things together as he arrived at the new entrance to the Thumbscrew:

The Lord of Hats posted:

"Pythag! I want you to head inside, I don't know what you'll find, but I trust you to figure out how to deal with it! Verika! If you can draw a bead on the sniper, do it, otherwise, you're with me and everyone else to... to... urgh" a sudden wave of inexplicable nausea washed over Noggins, but she managed to keep her feet. "To hold the line! UNEXPECTABLES! HOLD FAST! LET'S SHOW SIKATRIS THAT WE KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT WALLS!"

She pushed herself back onto the front lines, trying hard not to let the strangeness she was feeling show, but it was clear to anyone watching closely that she wasn't at 100%. Still, even Noggins not feeling quite right was more than a match for an Inhabited.

As much as Gabber wanted to head inside and make sure the correct message was sent home, Pythag would surely handle matters far better than Gabber ever could. So it was that he once again found himself fighting side-by-side with the Unexpectables most honorable soldier. Had anyone ever had such an impact on the cowardly Mimic than the brave Noggins? Riding up next to her on the front lines and clanging the butt of his sword against his shield once to grab her attention, he fired off a quick salute, and pointed to the small Nail and Fist token he wore. Even if she began to falter, her Knights would keep her going - her first Knight would stand beside her when the burden became too much to bear alone.

Mimic Brave Captain Noggins - Hold On!: 1d100+15(glory)+10(skillcore)+10(orders)+6(sword&charger) 138 OOC: Been rolling absurdly lately. :siren: A Natural 97 means my armor is a -4 for this action (+3 Heavyweight Plate + 3 charger - 10 for >80 roll) :siren:

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 22:57 on Mar 8, 2018

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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry {cooldown}, Listening(+30, using) Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 16->17

Short on time this week, following orders and keeping Gabber's guard up.

Gabber Listening Gallantly - Keep Your Guard Up!: 1d100+30+16+10+6 146 - Heavyweight Plate is -4 this round.

The streak of high rolls continues!

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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.
/// Cosmetic Items: ///
Name: Gabber
Skill: Mimicry (using), Listening {+30, cooldown}, Night Vision
HP: 3/3
Glory: 17->18

A high whine reverberated in Gabber's ears as his Listening skillcore phased off again, increased senses slowly fading away as his hearing returned back to normal. The more he'd been using his advanced Listening skillcore, the more he found himself entering an almost trance-like state in battle. Ears highly attuned to the space around him, every scrape of metal on metal, every quickstep of an enemy advancing from a blindspot, every agonizing cry of another Unexpectable being cut down or shot came through clear as day; and his body reacted in response as if on auto-pilot. He was sure quite some time had passed as they'd mounted their desperate defense of the Thumbscrew, but it had gone by in a blur. Bashing another approaching Inhabited with his shield, he took a quick moment and reviewed the scene before him. His Nails thrumming with energy, a heap of slain foes before him, dead comrades left and right, and Gabber none worse for the wear. Truly he'd never felt more alive here at Noostra, half terrified and half unstoppable. Yet still Grimper hadn't returned - what was taking so long?! Suddenly he jolted from a familiar voice cutting through from nearby:

The Lord of Hats posted:

"Gabber!" she shouted, her voice slightly deeper and more resonant than before. "We've got some breathing room, try and secure a route out of here!

Turning to his Captain to acknowledge her orders, he suddenly felt dumbstruck. Noggins...Noggins had changed. She quickly turned to issue further orders to her other knights, but Gabber's gaze remained a few moments more, heart thudding in his chest. An odd feeling had overcome him as he looked upon his transformed Captain. She appeared more graceful and beautiful, and almost seemed to have a glow about her. He felt flushed, awestruck, wanted to obey the order of his lady Captain more than ever before; needed to accomplish her goals. For a moment he considered if he had fallen in love, but no - this feeling he had now was more akin to platonic worship than carnal desire. Her most loyal knight would honor her by accomplishing her goals no matter the cost. (Gabber Trait Gained: Courtly Love Go!)

Scanning the surrounding area, he soon found the opening he needed - a bit of breathing room procured by Portha and her prototype crossbow. Spurring his steed forward, he charged at the gap with as much speed as he could quickly muster. He would part the enemy with his own blood, sweat and tears. His arms would be tireless. He would be the point that drove the Unexpectables forth from the city, victorious, all in her name!

Mimic a Gallant Charge - Spread Out Down That Alley!: 1d100+17(glory)+10(skillcore)+10(orders)+6(sword&steed) 79 - Base of 36, armor remains at +3

...or die trying.

Task Manager fucked around with this message at 00:11 on Mar 18, 2018

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