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 Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 0->1 Backstory: Noggins was always pretty good at carpentry, but she overpromised by quite a bit on the prototype for the EZ-Build Insta-House Kit. Fortunately, joining the Horde was a great way to escape pending collapsing-house-related lawsuits. Noggins was late to the new conflict, but dammit she had gone to a lot of effort of building a ladder to get over that gate, she'd be damned if she was going to abandon it for some filthy hole in the ground. When she arrived at the field of battle, she couldn't believe her eyes. "This craftsmanship is terrible! The dovetailing on those joints are all wrong, and this is the shoddiest timber I've ever seen!" She pulled out her trusty claw hammer. She'd show them what "catastrophic structural collapse" really looked like. Aggressive Carpenting!: 1d100+10 108 The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 05:26 on Oct 18, 2017 |
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Sep 21, 2017 22:33
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 Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 2 "Awwwww yiss... sir. Yessir. Thank you sir." said Noggins as she received her kickin' rad reward, promptly getting a safe distance away from Grimper before engaging in the shimmies of the traditional "Hell Yeah I Just Got A Motherfuckin' SWORD" dance.That business completed, she examined her new possession more closely, testing it's edge. It was nice and sharp, but the smoothness of the edge confused her somewhat. How were you supposed to get a proper rend going if your blade didn't have any serration? Well, Grimper knew a lot more about war and swords than she did, and if he said this would do the job, clearly it would. Remember some previous curiosity, she wandered over to Stårn and his Precious Weapon. "How is that thing even holding together when the nails are only halfway in?" The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 03:31 on Sep 28, 2017 |
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Sep 23, 2017 05:51
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 2->3 Noggins woke up a bit sore, her limbs still tired from the previous day's anti-stick-golem frenzy. Sleeping while clutching a sword hadn't exactly been the most comfortable either, but if people had been willing to try and steal it from Grimper, they probably wouldn't hesitate to steal it from her, either. No, that sword was her ticket to not dying horribly, and they would have to pry it from her dead-but-still-warm hands. With her trusty blade strapped to her back, and her tools of the trade at her waist, she marched out to meet the day. The first order of business was getting that catapult actually built. She couldn't fault Stårn's enthusiasm, but his insistence that the shovel he was carrying was a catapult was just sort of sad. Still, it was a great idea, and she had the skills to build it. Unfortunately she didn't really have the greatest materials, but you start somewhere, right? Make That Catapult Not Imaginary!: 1d100+12 38 With that momentarily tended to, she stepped back to observe the camp, and... holy poo poo, it was utter chaos. Ringo had already slunk off with the poison, but there were still a half-dozen people who hadn't realized that and were still making their own horse-murdering preparations, others were wandering off for different plans, and overall people seemed to be going in a million directions at once, and Grimper appeared to be preoccupied with larger-scale strategy than this single operation. This was... not a promising indicator of her own chances of survival. Still, momma always said, if you want something done right, do it yourself. Noggins climbed to the top of a hill in the middle of camp, raised her sword in the air, and started shouting. "HEY! EVERYONE! See this? It's the sword Grimper gave me! It doesn't actually mean I'm in charge, but it's more than the rest of you have right now, and I'm going to milk that authority for all it's worth! The caravan's on it's way, and we need to get our poo poo in order, which means working together, or else Grimper's gonna be pissed!" Lowering her voice a little, she continued. "So here's the idea--I was talking with RIK, and he says he can put on a kickass concert as a distraction, and then we can ambush the poo poo out of the caravan, and have the catapult ranged ahead of time. I think that's great, but it's going to take some setup. I got a look at the map, and there's a big stand of trees a ways off--we can use that for lumber, and also for hiding the ambush. So what we do is, there's three groups for now: the people scouting them, the people intercepting them to slow them down and lead them to the concert, and then the rest of us who need to build a stage and get RIK some bandmates. Sound good? It better, because we've got poo poo-all else going on right now!" (Hopefully) rallying some fellow Horde members to join her, Noggins headed off to get to work. Build a Stage!: 1d100+2 95 The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 03:31 on Sep 28, 2017 |
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Sep 23, 2017 16:54
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 4->5 Noggins barely gave the skillcores a second glance as she rushed in among her fellow looters. Sure, yelling might be nice if she wanted to keep trying to take charge and impress Grimper, but it looked like Stårn was going for that one, and she didn't want to risk a Portapult to the face. She'd helped build the thing, after all, she knew how strong it was. She already had a weapon, too, no point looking for that. No, this was a supply caravan for a fortress, and that took more than just food and weapons. You needed to be able to make repairs in a siege, and that took tools and craftsmen... and if there was a good carpenter in this caravan, he wouldn't let his tools out of his sight. She passed by the more soldier-y corpses as she moved into the middle of the caravan, where people who'd needed protecting had sat, possibilities dancing through her head. She'd show Grimper that that training performance hadn't been a fluke. Looking for tools!: 1d100 89 The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 03:32 on Sep 28, 2017 |
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Sep 25, 2017 23:00
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 5 Noggins looked up from her search for a moment to see Ringo striding confidently (if somewhat twitchily) up to a caravan wagon and start loudly picking its lock while whistling, occasionally pausing to give a high-five to a passing horde member. She blinked a few times and shook her head, but it didn't stop being entirely real. She quickly ducked back down and considered her options while continuing her search. On the one hand, Grimper had explicitly said not to do that, and might look favorably on being told about what was up. On the other hand, Ringo was the hero of the hour, and the rest of the Horde probably wouldn't look kindly on anyone who snitched him out. Also, Grimper would probably get mad at her for pointing out the obvious. Or she could try and cover for Ringo, but... no, the natural conclusion of that really was just getting slapped into next week by Grimper, with no upside. Ah, well. Ringo was sneaky enough to poison horses, right? Clearly he must know what he's doing. Better not to interfere with his plan one way or the other. The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 03:32 on Sep 28, 2017 |
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Sep 26, 2017 05:08
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 5->6 "Did you know a full-grown Cobaltwing has the size and strength to carry up to three whole people at once? Some can even manage more!" Noggins winced as she watched Flutter's head get crushed like a grape, and again as Ringo got de-ringed. She hadn't spoken with Flutter that much--only really as a fellow member of the distraction team. But even in that short period, it was clear how much he had loved butterflies. Enough to risk his life for them. And, well... that was that. His blood was puddling on the ground, and people were already squabbling over his skillcore. That was no way to go out. No way to go out at all. Why did people even want the core that badly? It was useless without... without... there! Retrieve the Chrysalis!: 1d100 26 "What's funny is that even though they get so big, their caterpillar and chrysalis are no bigger than an ordinary butterfly's! They actually do almost all of their growing as adults! Noggins dove for the chrysalis, desperately throwing her body around it to protect it from the stamping feet of the mob of people trying to be the next great Butterfly Tamer. Flutter had died for this. Sure, technically he'd died stealing from his own side, directly against his Warlord's orders, but he'd died for it all the same. She wasn't about to let that get stepped on. "Speaking of the chrysalis, did you know they actually go into a stasis in there? They won't hatch unless they detect food nearby. Back on the ranch, we'd usually bring in a couple head of cattle and slaughter them to coax the Cobaltwings out of there! Shielding the cocoon with her hands, she went to search out timber for a casket. It'd be a pain to haul along, but the next Tamer would surely be willing to help once she explained herself. "Don't worry, Flutter." she whispered into her hands. "We'll have you back in the sky in no time." Horde Votes Fostis, and Tell Us About Yourself, Oh Mighty Grimper
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Sep 28, 2017 04:25
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 Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 6->7 Fostis! City of industry! Well, town of industry. Town of mining, at least. The point was, it had raw materials, and where there's materials, there's craftsmen. And where there's craftsmen, there's skillcores. Good skillcores, not crap like snoring. How sad did you have to be that that was the skillcore you developed? How desperate that you'd actually willingly stuff that thing into yourself forever? No, if you wanted to be as great as Grimper one day, you needed to pick your cores carefully, and be clever about using them. Speaking of which... Noggins' ears (just the two, she was Monsterism-free, thank you very much) perked up as Grimper mentioned the possibility of recruiting dissidents from Fostis's ranks. If having soldiers left while your enemy had none was a victory, and wiping out the enemy without any injuries on your side was a major victory, it stood to reason that wiping out the enemy and ending up with more soldiers than you started with was the best kind of victory possible. The only problem was, a horde of 99 Tömen, a warlord, and a Nailsmith wasn't the most intimidating force imaginable. Sure, the Horde would get the job done, but it wasn't enough to scare people into surrender right off the bat. But maybe that wasn't as insurmountable as it seemed... Noggins became a blur of activity, pulling stacks of lumber and buckets of paint from one of the carts, and ragged spare clothing from another, pausing only occasionally to reassure herself that the padded box containing Flutter's chrysalis was still secure at her waist. One by one, rank by rank, she assembled a veritable army of scarecrows--hastily put together, but reasonably well-crafted all the same. They wouldn't hold up to scrutiny, not at all, but that wasn't the point. The point was to look really impressive from a distance. Swell Our Ranks With Fearsome STICK OGRES!: 1d100+16 58
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Oct 2, 2017 20:58
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((With Flipit's action, Blend in, Avalanche, and Assassinate are now all full!))
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Oct 2, 2017 21:13
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 7->8 Noggins stepped back to admire her team's handiwork. Not bad, if she said so herself. Some of the back ranks were a bit sloppy, but they'd build a veritable forest of stick ogres, their ranks just disorganized enough to look natural. Yes, surely Grimper would recognize her cunning after the enemy was fooled into-- "Hey, They're just stick ogres! Get them!" Noggins froze. They'd seen through it already? How! They should've been too distracted by an avalanche, an assassination, and general poo poo-stirring to give her army a close look! Had everyone else just wandered off into the hills? Her mind raced for options. There wasn't any cover to escape to--she'd chosen a big empty space to make the army as visibly imposing as possible. And charging that rabble head-on was suicide... "Hide in the stick ogres!" Noggins hissed under her breath to her compatriots. "They won't be able to group up in there, and with the fog, they'll have trouble picking us out of the group!". Her hand went to the sword that Grimper gave her, feeling its comfortable weight in her grip. "And when their back is turned... well, you all know what to do with Fromen. Kill 'em dead!" Ambush In The Stick Ogre Jungle: 1d100+8 74 The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 21:49 on Oct 5, 2017 |
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Oct 4, 2017 22:08
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Prince of Space posted:The Goofball's Gambit: I said this in the Discord, but holy poo poo thank you so much for this.
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Oct 6, 2017 14:56
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 8->9 It worked. It worked. IT WORKED! Noggins cheered as the adrenaline left her, turning to face her grisly work. It was an ugly sight--strained splinters of wood driven into the ground from sheer rotational velocity, shattered stick golems, and of course, brutally impaled bodies, blue (and sometimes red) blood oozing out onto the ground. Her stomach churned a bit at the sight, but she took a few deep breaths and steadied herself. She'd hoped that the stick ogres would have let her settle this without violence, just scaring Fostis into submission, but as it had turned out... well, in the end, it had been her or them, and she had a job to do. No, a duty. "Get the bodies hauled out of there and get them set out respectfully" she instructed her comrades. "They're already surrendering, no reason to make this any worse for Fostis than it has to be. If there's survivors, let's try to get them patched up." Rolling her shoulders to stretch them a bit, she got to work, humming to herself as she picked her way through the carnage. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Again! Again! Tell me the one about Sir Occam and the Great Dragon Brarrg!" "No, Noggins, it's time for you to *sleep*. And besides, if I tell you too many stories you're going to start getting ideas." "But Dovetaaaaaail, I wanna be a knight when I grow up! Just like Sir Occam! I'll travel the land and help people and fight monsters and I'll be a hero!" "No, Noggins, you're going to grow up to be a carpenter, and you are going to thank me for it. That's a *proper* skillcore. A respectable trade! Do you know how many people there are out there with things like "Whistling" as their skillcore? What are you supposed to do with that? I'll tell you what you do, you starve in the streets. Now go to sleep, we've got a table to build in the morning." "Fiiiiiiiiiiiine." As the light was blown out, and the door closed, Noggins curled up under the blankets and waited in silence. After some time had passed, she started to quietly sing to herself. "Brave and bold Sir Noggins Rode out to face the foe, She was not afraid to fight, No, brave Sir Noggins! She was not afraid to fight, To protect the land of Tö Brave, brave, brave, brave Sir Noggins... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Some time later, her work at Stick Ogre Hill completed, Noggins finally walked, tired, into town, heading towards the craftsman's district. Predictably, the district was dominated by forges and foundries, devoted to turning Fostis' raw materials into usable product. And in a time like this, the implements of war would surely be in demand by royal decree, and that wouldn't just be junk for the foot soldiers. No, there would be a call for higher-quality stuff for the officers, and you would produce that... there. A smithy whose attached home was clearly of a higher quality than the others, with a showroom to go with it. This would be the real stuff was kept. Finding the door unlocked, Noggins headed in and began to search for something that would fit her. Something nice and sturdy. Something that would gleam heroically in the light. Finding Some *Good* Armor: 1d100 96
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Oct 10, 2017 19:38
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  Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 9->10 Noggins had trouble sleeping that night. A combination of excitement for her new acquisition and fear from seeing the Ritual of the Nail kept her up and full of a frantic energy. She’d checked her own body twice for any sign of the same stigma that the citizens of Fostis now bore, and part of her wanted to check again. The whole thing felt… wrong. She understood that it was necessary, that they needed Fostis’s full support in this campaign, and that there just wasn’t time to win their hearts and minds the old fashioned way, especially with the way they reacted when asked to join voluntarily, but… that wasn’t the same thing as being right. But then again, what was the alternative? Sending them off to a prison camp somewhere? Killing them all and bringing in loyal citizens to work the mines? Those really didn’t seem any better. So to take her mind off of it, Noggins worked. Sheet after sheet of sandpaper was expended, slowly grinding away at her new armor’s rust. It was hard, tedious work, but it was comfortably familiar, wearing away the imperfections to make an improved whole. She wondered how it had gotten to this point in the first place. It had clearly been quite nice armor at one point, and the previous owner had cared for it enough to hold onto it. But then why had it been shut away like it was? Why were pieces missing? Why had it been allowed to rust? Did it’s owner just not appreciate the importance of maintenance? Even the hardest wood would rot eventually, if you didn’t treat it properly, and the same went for anything else. The rust all removed, she retrieved a rag and a small pot of polish from the supply wagons, and on the way her attention was caught by Gado, frantically digging to save his life. And… was that Shiny? Why was she digging? Grimper hadn’t assigned her to be punished, and if he found someone helping Gado out… Noggins watched them for a while, thinking, and then walked off. No, too many people digging would attract attention, and she wasn’t any good at it in the first place. Instead, she tracked down Flitter, and pressed a small box into the Butterfly Rider’s hands. “This is Flutter. I don’t know how to take care of him and you do, so… it’s better that he’s in your hands. I know Stårn has Flutter’s old skillcore, but… I think he’s going to be too busy with other things to give Flitter the time he’ll need. Take care of yourself, okay?” Not waiting for a response, Noggins headed back to her workspot and got to polishing, eventually falling asleep draped over the cuirass. She had trouble putting into words why, but she felt a lot better about things now. When morning came, she gathered up her now-gleaming armor, and headed back to the supply carts. When she’d been building the stick ogres, she’d noticed a huge oak log in among the wood supply. She’d originally planned for that to be the core of Stick-Grimper, but had run out of time to implement that particular masterpiece. All of the stories of the past battle had given her another idea, though, and she set to work, getting other to help her pull it out, then stripping the bark from the log and laying out marks on it. There would need to be holes for handles here, and here, and holes drilled the hole way through for the chains, and a canopy to protect the siegers… “Hey Stårn! Give me a hand, here! I don’t think Mason’s head is going to hold up to an actual gate!” Building a Battering Ram: 1d100+19 40 ((As a note, if any new characters want to have been part of the Battle of Stick Ogre Hill, feel free, I'll go along with it! Also, voting Skillcores for storytime)) The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 19:32 on Oct 12, 2017 |
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Oct 12, 2017 18:17
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E: Quote is not Edit.
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Oct 12, 2017 19:31
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 10 Noggins stared at her scrounged bottle of wine. She'd gone back into Fostis to hear Grimper talk, but between learning about the nails, and the watchful gazes of the people of Fostis, she hadn't stayed for very long. Nails. Why did they bother her so much? She worked with nails all the time, she was a carpenter for Tö's sake! It wasn't like she hadn't accidentally jabbed herself with them a bunch of times as a child. It wasn't like it would it could hurt any worse than she'd felt in the past! So why? She took a sip. It was pretty good, all things considered, and it relaxed her just a little bit. The rituals weren't all the same. She wasn't about to lose her free will, or die suddenly when somebody pulled out a nail, or... who knows. It was just going to be like getting a little extra luck! Yeah, that was it, a good luck charm, Like a 6-leaf clover. Or even better, it would be like a pact of camaraderie with the rest of the Horde. Yeah! Yeah, it wouldn't be so bad. And in a way, it was only fair--if she was going to make Fostis get Nails, well, she couldn't just back down, especially when it was going to help her, and... and.. put them at risk. Yeah. She'd done that to them. She'd put them in danger. So now she had to help protect them. And that would take everything she had to give. No holding back. Just like the stories. Noggins watched Gawp emerge from Magda's wagon, looking just a little... duller? Smaller? Just... slightly less than he was when he went in, smiling, despite this. And smoke was starting to rise from Magda's forge... Noggins took a swig and then corked the bottle. Nerves or no, she wasn't about to let herself wind up like Dov--like Grimper. No, she could will herself through this. She had to.
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Oct 13, 2017 03:30
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I know I'm fine with it. Prince of Space has said that he intends to keep putting that bonus glory into rituals, if that changes your estimation of the effects on balance.
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Oct 16, 2017 14:44
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 Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 10->11 The nailing actually hadn't been as bad as Noggins had feared. Oh, it hurt like hell on the way in, make no mistake--but then it was just kind of... there. If she closed her good eye and focused, she could barely make out the faint pink glow of their bonds, crisscrossing with the hundreds of other pink lines leading to Grimper. She would have rather that the bonds be to the rest of the Horde instead of directly to the Warlord, but that just wasn't how rituals worked. Probably. Snacking on combat bread, she chimed in on the ration discussion--"We should only take Some Rations. We conquered Fostis, it's our responsibility now. It would be wrong to just doom the town. Besides, we can make what we've got last for quite a while." She took another bite of bread--it really was quite good--and continued "Besides, there's that supply wagon coming. If we head out now, we should be able to get to the crossroads with enough time to set up an ambush, and then we'll have all the supplies we'll need! Who's with me?" Not hearing quite as much enthusiasm as she had really been hoping for, she walked over to Tharbad "You know, given how valuable this is, it's probably going to be well-guarded. This would be a good chance for the Bar Association to show off what it can do." With a turn that sent her moth-eaten cape in a dramatic sweep (with some not-insignificant bits of it flying off in the process), she headed out on the road. It was going to take a while to get there, and hesitation would only mean less time to prepare. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There wasn't as much to work with out at the crossroads as she had hoped. Sure, there were trees around, but they were pretty much all pines, barren of branches until way too far up. Even if you climbed it and somehow hid in its branches, you would just be stuck up there, unless you really wanted to start out an ambush by jumping down and breaking both your legs. And while you were busy writhing in pain, the wagon would just get away from you, and the other delegations would show up to beat you into the dirt. Unless... Noggins pulled out her tools and started sawing the trees along the road. If the other towns paths were blocked, and you dropped a tree behind the supply wagon... it'd just be you and the caravan, and they would have nowhere to go but Fostis, and the ambush would go off without a hitch. Foolproof. Ambush the Supply Wagon: 1d100+24 29 Unfortunately, there was a lot of tree to cut through, and a single carpentry saw wasn't exactly the right tool for the job.
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Oct 17, 2017 18:21
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 11->12 (downtime bonus glory) Noggins was busy sizing up trees when Hat chimed in to express her doubts about the ambush plan. Noggins paused. That was a better idea, wasn't it? An ambush, even if it managed to get everyone from the caravan, was still going to be a massive tip-off that something had gone horribly wrong. Why had she immediately jumped to the most violent solution possible? Sure, this was a war, but it wasn't like this was some kind of glorious front for both sides to fight and die on. "Hat... your idea is way better than mine. Let's start with your plan. I still think we should block the other roads, though--the other towns will know we're strangers, and if they don't show up, maybe the caravan will let us take all the stuff to "distribute"." Switching to Plan Hat. That probably means my equipment bonus isn't applicable, so my total is 25, but it's not like the result wasn't poo poo anyways! The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 22:42 on Oct 17, 2017 |
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Oct 17, 2017 22:02
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 12->13 Noggins relaxed, tension she didn't even realize she was carrying leaving her shoulders. They'd bought it. There wasn't going to be any fighting unless they picked a fight... which was pretty tempting, given the loot laid out before them. Still, Hat had the right of it--attracting attention here would just lead to Fostis being retaken. And if that happened, Grimper would probably just pull out the Fostis nail to deny Frö the labor force. Now there was something that Noggins didn't want on her conscience. No, this situation called for Noggins the Carpenter more than it did the valiant Sir Noggins. "Yeah, that's Sikatris for you. Still, not like I'm going to say no to a free scarf." Noggins paused for a little while as she watched her Hordemates start shifting boxes of metallic supplies out of the battered caravan wagons and into their carts. "I'm surprised she's running you guys this ragged. I mean, no offense, but you look like you haven't slept in a week. And it looks like even longer since you've been able to do real maintenance on those wagons. Overburdened, undermaintained... I'm guessing the delay was that you busted an axle on the way here? You made great time, given the circumstances. Tell you what, I should be able to get things patched up so you don't have to go through that mess again. You'll still need to get a full fix at some point, and you'll probably want to lighten your load, but you shouldn't have any big problems in the future." Seeing that Skup was dozing off, Noggins got to work, patching what needed patching, replacing what couldn't be easily fixed, pulling some excess boards off of their own wagons to brace the damaged axle. Not bad, if she said so herself. It should hold for a good long while. Now to hope that Skup would be appropriately grateful. Wagon Repairs: 1d100+12 84 The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 18:30 on Oct 24, 2017 |
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Oct 19, 2017 18:09
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In a somewhat similar vein, using my masterful MSPaint skills-- This borrows a bit from the Cross of Burgundy, but the stripe edge is the pattern for dovetail joints from carpentry, a personal touch from Noggins to show how the Horde holds together despite itself. The crown is based on Grimper's crown, which follows the standard design for Töan crowns--you can see that the late queen (blessed be her name, may she rest in peace) had the same style. I think Töan regiments directly accompanied by a Warlord would probably typically use their Warlord's heraldry, but given that Grimper isn't forthcoming (possibly because of the shame that stuck him with us in the first place, possibly because he wants as little to do with us as possible), this is our nod to him. The nails symbolize the metaphorical bonds we share, and the literal power we get from them, and is also a bit of a nod to Magda. The red and blue, like Cloud Potato's design, represent the people of Tö, although given that our skin isn't a particularly vibrant blue, I opted to use a deeper one to make the red stripe stand out more, which would be important on the battlefield. The relatively simple pattern means it could easily be adapted to different shapes, allowing for hussar-like vertical banners for cavalry to carry into battle.
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Oct 20, 2017 22:56
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National: L Unexpectables: C
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Oct 23, 2017 15:53
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Curious about what Noggins thinks of you? Wonder no longer. This is what happens when I don't get my update fix, I get the shakes and then you get this nonsense
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Oct 24, 2017 16:13
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 13->14 Ritual Glory: 1 Noggins grumbled to herself as she escorted the shipment back to Fostis. Sure, Skup didn't know who she was, but couldn't he recognize good work when he saw it? Well, who would be the one laughing when the eyelets holding the axles on busted in the next hundred miles? Well, nobody, because she'd fixed that. drat. Well, even if Skup was an ungrateful bastard, at least things hadn't gone wrong. They'd gotten some information out of him, and they had the shipment. It would've been nice if Neebs had helped out a little more, but she had done a lot to make the plan work in the first place... Still, though... This was all forgotten as they actually arrived back at Fostis. Before they even had a chance to start unpacking, Gado came up and reported on what had gone down in the mines. The Old Guy team's encounter was horrifying, and Noggins silently counted herself lucky to not have gone along, but it took a backseat in immediate importance to the report of the Fostisian Free Alliance. They should have realized sooner that they might not have managed to get the entire town Nailed. Now everything was at risk--if the FFA managed to get word to Skitaris somehow, that would mean the full force of a real army would come down right on the Horde. Noggins couldn't let that happen. They might be a collection of misfits, oddballs, and sometimes the outright insane, but they were--some of them, at least--her friends. She had to protect them. That's what friends did. That's what Sir Occam would have done, right? She drew her sword and pointed it dramatically at the mines, another scrap of her cape flying off in the breeze. "If they have their way, they're going to get us all killed--and the rest of Fostis too, while they're at it. I say we don't give them the chance! Let's go down there and show them what Töans are really made of!" Taking the Fight to the Rebels!: 1d100+17 91 The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 01:52 on Oct 26, 2017 |
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Oct 25, 2017 17:51
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 14 Ritual Glory: 1 Noggins stood in front of the entry to the mineshaft, looking at the group assembled around her. Splut had already gone on ahead to try to compromise the rebels from within--if anyone would be able to sell the lies to get in, it would be him. Neebs was joining in as well, and Noggins gave her an appreciative nod. "See?" she told herself, "She's just overly cautious, that's all." Biggo and Tharbad coming along was more of a surprise. She even thought for a moment about telling them to stay put, but stopped herself. Legs or no legs, they were still some of the best fighters in the Horde, and they would need all the help they could get on this raid. "Alright! They're probably going to try and ambush us again, but this time we know it's coming. I'm going to take the lead here because hopefully this--" she knocked a fist on her breastplate "--will hold up against a surprise pickaxe to the chest if they do get the drop on us. Portha, you've been down there before and most of us haven't, so I want you up in front with me to show us where to go. Gabber, you've got Listening, right? I want you up front too, to help find them. Hat, you're the only other person with actual armor, so I think you should cover the back, in case the try to get us from behind. That sound good to everyone?" She waited for the response, and then continued. "Right then! Let's get this done!" It all seemed so clear as she said it, the pieces fitting neatly into place with no visible seams. Sure, once they were down there who knows how well it would hold up, but right now Noggins felt like she could do anything. Gripping her blade, she headed into the darkness.
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Oct 27, 2017 00:04
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Look out, FFA. Death comes for you silently.
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Oct 27, 2017 04:51
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 14->15 Ritual Glory: 1 Noggins took deep breaths as the carnage finally settled, blue Fröman blood dripping from her sword. It was over. Over. She took a quick stock of the results--they'd won with no injuries. That was... good. Yeah. This was never going to happen without casualties. Even if they'd somehow captured all of the FFA, what then? They clearly couldn't just be left free. Drive them all into the Old Guy vault to see what happened? Judging by what happened to Biggo and Tharbad, that would be even worse. Nail them, too? To who, without Grimper around? Magda? One of the horde? To her? No. No, this was the best that outcome that they could have hoped for. She had a responsibility to uphold. She felt a wave of relief when they found Splut, chained up and unconscious. Because he was alive, of course, because they'd saved him, but also because it lifted her guilt, to see what the FFA had done. They'd have done that and so much worse to her friends, if they'd had a chance. They had to stop them. And if this was the only way to do it, so be it. She'd do this as many times as it took to keep everyone else safe. That's what Sir Occam would have done, right? When they cracked open the supply crates, Noggins couldn't help but feel disappointed. Sure, it wasn't surprising that it didn't contain anything better than what she'd already had, but she'd had hope, and the skillcores had been similarly disappointing. The good stuff must've been in the boxes that Skup kept. Still, it wasn't all bad. Sikatris had done some good work on these scarves, and Noggins helped herself to one. It looked rather dashing with her armor, at least if you asked her. About to step away from the crates, Noggins paused, and grabbed another sword, handing it over to Hob. "Good work down there. And hey, eyepatch buddies gotta stick together, right?" She winked. Or at least, tried. It wasn't easy when you only had one good eye. Grab A Sweet Scarf: 1d100 48 Disengaged from the general looting as she was, Noggins had time to notice Biggo, still moving uncertainly on improvised gauntlet-feet, and Tharbad, left sitting where Hob had carefully set him down. It was heartbreaking, really. "Alright you two, get over here--sorry, no, Biggo, you get over to Tharbad, and I'll head over there--and I'll get you two fitted. It's not going to be the same as having your legs back, and I don't have the full workshop I'd need to make something really nice, but it should be a lot more comfortable than... well, that." Carve Prosthetics: 1d100+10+14 89 The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 05:28 on Oct 30, 2017 |
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Oct 30, 2017 05:25
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We can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to build the world's first bar-onic Töan. Tharbad will be that Töan. Better than he was before. Taller. Harder. Bar-er.
The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 05:58 on Oct 31, 2017 |
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Oct 31, 2017 05:51
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Noggins Skill: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 14->15 Ritual Glory: 2->4?->0 The prosthetics hadn't taken nearly as long as Noggins had thought they would. Tharbad's...unusual... request had been simple enough, even if it meant that she'd had to go to the same smith she'd tried to rob just a few days prior to obtain the iron rods. It hadn't been the most comfortable request to make, but the Fröman had lightened up somewhat when she asked for something other than weapons. He still clearly hated her--not that she could blame him--but he could at least do this without feeling guilty about arming the enemy. When she decided afterwards, on a whim, to request some fastenings for signs, he'd soured somewhat at the additional work, but had ultimately relented. She left a carved tchotchke as thanks, even though she knew it was doubtlessly headed straight for the trash once she was gone. As she worked, wood moving through her hands in relaxing, familiar patterns, she couldn't help but fall into memory. ----------------------------------------------------------- "Not bad work, kid. Stands out. I mean, I could do better, but it's good for a novice." Dovetail clapped her on the back as they looked up at the sign. "Noggins' Joinery" it proclaimed in bold, silver letters, "Construction, Furnishing, and Finishing". A small insignia of a hammer and saw sat at the bottom, quietly indicating that she was not merely trained in her craft, but Cored as well. "Hey, I gave you the chance to help out!" "And rob you of this? Never. That's more than just a sign to hang outside your shop, Noggins. It's a sign for your *craft*. A sign for *you*. When you and I are long gone, and it's your apprentices' apprentices working the shop, that sign's still going to be there. And people will look at it, and even if they know nothing else, they'll know that Noggins was one hell of a carpenter." "Couldn't've done it without you, Dovetail." "Without me? Hah. You're cored, kiddo. You'd've made it one way or another. I was just there to sand things down, smooth the path. And here you are." "Here I am." ---------------------------------------------------------- Noggins paused, and set down Tharbad's new leg, sticking the rod into the ground to let the finish dry evenly on the fitting. The horde had only lost two people, but already she was having a hard time remembering them. It wasn't like she'd ever worked with Flutter or Graxon closely--there hadn't really been time for that to happen--so she couldn't exactly speak to their character, but... they were people. Good people. And now all they had were unmarked graves in the middle of nowhere. They deserved better than that. And sure, Grimper wasn't about to let them stop for a big funeral every time, or even properly bury them. But that didn't mean there was nothing she could do about it. She was going to need paint for this, but it's not like it would be needed for something else...   Hours later, walking away from the wagon she'd nailed the signs to the side of, she passed the loot pile, and noted a wealth of skillcores still there. Sure, she didn't have a use for any of them... but that didn't mean someone else didn't. In fact... Spleen would be rather disappointed if he missed out on this one, wouldn't he? Claiming Blasting for Spleen: 1d100 93 Contributing 4 Ritual Glory to Luck's Fickle Gaze ((I really need to figure out how to get rid of all that excess space in GIMP. I'll get around to it!))
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Nov 1, 2017 00:32
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  Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Blasting (Not Consumed) HP: 3 Glory: 15->16 Ritual Glory: 0 Noggins was focused. On a task this difficult, this important, she couldn't afford not to be. She'd selected her tools and materials with care--some loaves, while nicely blackened on the outside, somehow managed to be almost-raw dough at the core. Others were simply cinders with too little structural integrity to properly hold a nail. She couldn't fault Patsy for trying, and part of her felt like doing this was almost akin to making fun of him, but... there was honey at stake. Even if that wasn't the difference that made it easier to get these things down, the Horde really didn't offer that many opportunities to satisfy a sweet tooth. Inconsequential Chairbuilding With Bread: 1d100+25 72 It was going pretty well, too, and Noggins was just putting on the finishing touches when Magda sounded the call to action. She lingered long enough only to pitch her tools back onto the lumber wagon before dashing down the road at a dead sprint. The Nägel crew needed help! What if they'd all been captured? Then they would need someone to come and rescue them and it would be dramatic and heroic and incredible and Grimper would tell her she did a good job and... and... and... Mad Dash!: 1d100+15 49 She'd just have to live with owing Hob a new honey dipper. Brave Sir Noggins would always ride to the help of those in need! The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 03:54 on Nov 5, 2017 |
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Nov 5, 2017 03:52
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Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Blasting (Not Consumed) HP: 3 Glory: 16->17 Ritual Glory: 0 The march had been long, and hard, and while her enthusiasm had initially put her at the front of the pack, the weight of her armor soon had her in the middle, moving at a still-respectable clip. It had been pointless to try and rush off like she had--it wasn't like the entire Horde with its wagons could follow suit, and what exactly was she going to accomplish running off alone? She'd have been caught out by the fleeing guards, that's what would have happened. In fact, as it was, they'd already arrived exactly on schedule, just as the Vault was about to be split wide open. She craned her neck as she jostled her way to the front of the group, trying to catch a glimpse of Spleen, let him know that she had something for h-- Her thought was cut short by the sight of Dack, fleeing around the corner. Had he escaped capture? Where there more guards on the way? What was that noi-- Oh. A wave of fear washed over Noggins as the Wendigoes turned the corner. They were even more horrible than she'd thought they'd be, worse even than the accounts of the twisted Sungazer. These had been people once, and Nägel had done... this to them. Infected them, twisted into these horrible, screeching monstrosities, so loud that Noggins felt like her head was going to split open. What would happen, if she got bit? Would she turn into that to? Lose her mind and become... become... Noggins ran, screaming... ..Straight at the tall wendigo, which looked to have once been a Fröwoman. She barely registered her own actions, almost guided by some unseen hand even stronger than the pull of the Nail ritual had been. With a mighty leap she lunged at the monster, grabbing a fistful of its awful, matted hair in her free hand, feet scrabbling to find purchase on its back as she plunged her sword into its neck, praying that there was still something vital there. "I WON'T LET YOU GET MY FRIENDS! DIE! DIE! DIE!" Attack The Loud One!: 1d100+17 111 The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 01:31 on Nov 8, 2017 |
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Nov 7, 2017 20:05
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Next time you crack open a pack of Unexpectable-brand chewing güm, make sure you hold on to your Horde Trading Cards! They're valuable collectors items featuring your very favorite Horde members, complete with stats and records of their most glorious deeds! Collect them all!
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Nov 9, 2017 05:50
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Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Blasting (Not Consumed) HP: 3 Glory: 17->18 Ritual Glory: 1 Noggins held on for dear life as the wendigo bucked underneath her, its already cavernous maw splitting even wider to somehow release even more noise. This wasn't going well, she knew. Her sword had gone into the thing repeatedly, and she could have sworn she managed to pierce all the way through the roof of its mouth once, but it didn't seem to matter. The silver lining that for as awful as this experience was, she was surprisingly safe from her perch, shielded from the worst of the sound by the creature's own head. Far above most of the battlefield, she was able to get a grasp of the situation. The ugly one was... oh god, it was trying to eat people, all struggling to get free of its horrible mouth before it crunched down on them. Grag was in the clear, dangling from the creature's ruined arm, but,Cornbread, Hat, Neebs, and Klörf were not so lucky. And Flitter... Flitter had almost disappeared straight down the creature's gullet, one hand desperately gripping a tooth all that was keeping her from death. The laughing wendigo was, thankfully, not eating people, but the wild thrashing of its tongue was almost as bad. Splut stumbled, avoiding a fatal blow only by sheer luck, although it was clear the next thrash, already in motion, would end him. Gigs, Qwäg, Bamboo, Dummy, Gelia, Spleen, Flipit weren't quite as poorly off, but they were still in dire straits indeed. What's worse, that tongue looked long enough to reach and hit someone who wasn't even engaging it. And as for the loud one... Well, as long as Noggins stayed up here she was safe, Gabber's careful strikes from the shadows had spared him the beast's immediate attention, and Hob was, smartly, firing from beyond the wendigo's reach, but that was where the good news ended. Shiny, RIK, Mason, Doc, Grumbus, Gloff, and Gado were all clutching at their bleeding ears, and Tharbad and Biggo had fallen over completely, still unsteady on their replacement legs. The wendigo shifted beneath her, its eyes all focused on their prone forms. "NO!" Noggins screamed, stabbing it again. "DON'T! DON'T YOU DARE!" ((Voting Push FURTHER BEYOND The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 15:52 on Nov 10, 2017 |
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Nov 9, 2017 19:57
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CourValant posted:
Well, since you insist... 
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Nov 10, 2017 01:35
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Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 18->19 Ritual Glory: 1 Slowly, groggily, Noggins climbed to her feet, sore all over, but blessedly uninjured--she'd still been gripping the Loud Wendigo's head when Grimper had torn it asunder, and the fall to the ground had knocked the wind out of her. All around her, other people were doing the same, taking stock of their injuries, and the injuries of those around them. Some didn't get up at all, though Noggins was unable to put a name to the faces of any of the fallen. But for awful as it had been, as bad as Noggins felt that she'd failed to protect the rest of the Horde, it was over. Grimper had saved them, roaring into the battle like a wrathful god, and showing that while he may be an aloof, angry drunk, he was still a Warlord, and that meant something. Noggins gave Grimper a sharp salute, and then hurried back out to the wagons to grab her tools and materials, and went to work cutting out splints and supports for stretchers. It wasn't pretty work, but it didn't need to be--needed not to be, time was important here... proper treatment in time could make the difference between a limb healing properly or not at all... --------------- "Well, I have good news, and I've got bad news. What do you want first?" the doctor asked, washing the blood from her hands. Noggins sat woozily, trying to focus on the shifting room. "Give me the... urgh. Give me the bad news." "Well, the bad news is you can say goodbye to binocular vision. Unless you want to try your luck with monsterism, but as your doctor I'm going to have to advise that." Reflexively, Noggins reached up to her left eye, her hand touching bundled gauze, only numbness underneath. "And... the good news?" "Well, I was able to get all the glass out, for starters, so you're not going to have any trouble there. You got in here fast, too, which helps--I've dosed the affected area with Cobaltwing venom... useful stuff. It's a numbing paralytic, so that should keep you from moving your eye before it's healed. You won't be able to see out of it, but at least you'll still have your own eyeball in there. Most people aren't that lucky." Nogglins flopped back down onto the table, staring at the ceiling. "Lucky... right. Yeah, I... I guess you're right." "Who's the drunk that bottled you, anyways? You should take that up with the law." "It was... it's not important. I'll be fine. Thanks, doc." ---------------- Eventually, there was a lull in the work, and Noggins was finally, finally able to rest. She would just have to trust the Horde's doctors, and... whoever it was that Snödis had captured. It was out of her hands, for now. She took a few breaths, and reoriented herself. The fight was over now, and while it had been bad, it could have been so much worse. This wasn't the time to be dismal and gloomy--there was victory to be celebrated. A hard-fought, almost pyrrhic victory, but a victory. "Hey Spleen!" she yelled, seeking out the demolitionist. "I've got something for you!" Finally tracking him down, she smiled and pressed the Blasting skillcore into his hands. "Figured you might like it--there was an un-nailed resistance back in Fostis before we cleared them out. Picked this up off of one of them!" With that taken care of, she found Gabber and Hob, helping with the medical effort. "Hey, guys. I know it might not feel like it right now, but... you guys did good back there. I just want you to know that... well, when there's a situation that you come out of alright, but other people don't... it's going to make you feel guilty. Like it's your fault somehow. But I want--I need to tell you that it's not. You aren't weak, you aren't cowards, and you definitely aren't to blame for anything that happened here. You guys had my back in that fight, you're some of the bravest people I've met, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather be fighting alongside. Now let's help get everyone patched up--we're going to need it before we kick Frö's rear end for what they did here, right?" She smiled as she got back to work. It hadn't been great, yeah... but with friends around you, things never seemed quite as bad. Making Splints: 1d100+28 62
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Nov 10, 2017 22:46
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Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 19 Ritual Glory: 1 As she walked among the wounded, providing what additional assistance she could, Noggins came across Mason, injured and nursing his side, but hanging in there all the same. She thought for a moment, and then fished the Masonry skillcore she'd received from Spleen out of her pocket, setting it carefully in his lap. "Got a gift for you! You... might have one of these already, but it just seemed fitting for you to get this one. You get better, alright?" Giving Masonry to Mason. Trade chains ahoy!
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Nov 10, 2017 23:00
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Guess who finally managed to figure out how to make actually straight lines without laboriously drawing them pixel by pixel? This guy! Note: By this guy I do not mean Gigs, as he is clearly too intelligent to blunder through as much as I have without looking it up. When I say 'this guy', I am referring to myself. Also, DK, how many cards per point of ritual glory, do you think? The first one I took a point for because I spent all the time making the template, but given that these are now basically a writing exercise... somewhere between 2-4 cards per point, maybe?
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Nov 11, 2017 04:24
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 Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry HP: 3 Glory: 19 Ritual Glory: 1->0 As she headed back to the wagons for another load of wood, Noggins noticed Gawp, standing near Magda's cart, doing his best to appear casual as he watched his surroundings, eyes point off in different directions, unfocusing and refocusing on who knows what... was he alright? Something about him seemed... off compared to before. Well, he didn't seem too perturbed, so it couldn't be that bad. Giving him a friendly wave, Noggins dug in her pocket and dropped 1 Ritual Glory into the Luck's Fickle Gaze jar, before scooping up a handful of failed Nails. They were still perfectly good nails, after all, and she could use all the nails she could get her hands on. The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 16:09 on Nov 12, 2017 |
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Nov 11, 2017 22:59
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The problem with making these is they become obsolete awfully quickly!
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Nov 14, 2017 03:48
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 Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Precision HP: 3 Glory: 19->20 Ritual Glory: 1 Noggins was working. The long pine boxes weren't exactly a pleasure to make, but it kept her hands busy, and that at least made it easier to stay composed after she'd heard Zapanda talking with Grimper about the wendigo ichor infections. That was going to mean more signs, she knew. Sure, they might not be dead exactly, but... having seen those things, death would probably be the merciful option. The person they were beforehand might as well have been dead, after all. Qwäg would have to be first, by the sound of it... Risk Assessment wasn't going to be an easy sigil to come up with, but it could be done. Gawp would be easier, of course--an eye wouldn't be too hard. And-- Her train of thought fell off a cliff as she saw Hob approach Zapanda, clutching a fresh shield in his hands. But... he'd said he had the bow instead when he'd given her his old shield, right? Why would he need the--no. No. Nonononono. He had been safe. He had been safe! HE HAD BEEN SAFE! Noggins felt her heart and stomach plummet. She felt like she was going to throw up. Why? Why did this always happen? Why couldn't she protect a single person? In a furious blur of activity, she hauled an old Stick Ogre off of the cart, stuck it in the ground, drew her sword, and hacked away at it. She sliced and she sliced until she was out of breath and there was nothing left but splinters. It was an impressive display of pure mercantile courage that Gado was able to approach her with an offer, but while she stared blankly at him during his pitch, when he was finished she immediately unwound her scarf--fine wool, the most wonderful thing she had ever worn--and handed it to him. She didn't deserve it. Not right now. Not when she had failed so disastrously. No, if she wanted something that nice she was going to earn it. And this... well, it wasn't Guarding, like Vist was lucky enough to have, but it could serve. It would have to. She would just have to work harder to make up the difference. "...Thank you," she managed to choke out, before swallowing the skillcore, feeling it work its way down an unfamiliar tube, slotting neatly into place. As it activated, the world didn't look any different, but as as soon as she moved, the change was obvious. She knew exactly, to the smallest degree, how she was moving. Where her arms were in relation to each other. How far her hands travelled. And when she stopped, she came to a dead halt, frozen like a statue, not shaking at all. Experimentally, she planted another Stick Ogre, carefully examined the grain of its main post and... there. With a single vertical slice, it was cleaved neatly in two. "Thank you." she said again, this time more confident. She would succeed this time. And if not... the time after that. She wasn't going to stop trying. Not now, not ever. ----------- At the nail ritual, Noggins didn't hesitate this time. It hurt, yes, but not worse than failure did. And when Grimper turned to Zapanda, Noggins was already striding forward across the circle, standing next to his towering figure--she'd been expecting something like this and she'd had time to really think this one through. "Sir... I think I might you need to spare her. I don't mean to pry, but... I know you wouldn't be stuck with us if something weren't going on. But if you capture the cure for Monsterism? With nothing but a handful of men? I can't imagine how far that would go towards showing everyone that they made a mistake sidelining you, but I have to imagine it's a lot. And... if there's even a slight chance that we can save someone in the Horde... well, I think we owe it to them. "This place is a prison. It's not like we've got a shortage of chains to work with, and Snödis has already shown that she can keep an eye on them. Just anchor them to one of the carts, make them tend to the... the... the wendigoes, and we'll have the extra medical help that we need. And maybe we get lucky. Imagine reverting all of Frö's wendigoes on the battlefield. Never having to fight something like that again. I think it's worth it." She rattled off the plan as she stared up at Grimper. It wasn't comfortable, but if she looked forward, she'd see Hob, and she wasn't feeling ready to look him in the eye just yet. The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 15:56 on Nov 15, 2017 |
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Nov 15, 2017 10:09
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Mithross posted:The problem isn't the lack of Nails, the problem is the scientists refuse to have their brains sullied by Nails at all No, Grimper was going to use fail-Nails for a corrupt ritual because screw them this is good enough for them I don't give a poo poo that they'll go insane.
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Nov 15, 2017 10:23
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Noggins Skillcores: Carpentry, Precision HP: 3 Glory: 19->20 Ritual Glory: 1 Noggins was taking a walk. She couldn't stand to stay near that place any longer. The unbranded Wendigoes down in the vault were getting hungry and restless, and the resulting shrieking was setting everyone on edge. And with all the lingering tension from the nail ritual, it was just unbearable. She'd always been more of a city-dweller--far more familiar with wood as planks than as trees--but it was still relaxing to be out in the forest. For a little while, at least, she could just... breathe. Just walk, and think, and listen to... the... singing? When she found the source of the music, tears welled up in Noggins' eyes. She wanted to turn away, to just leave him behind, but... no. She'd been down this road before. If she turned back now, she knew she was going to regret it for the rest of her life. So she stepped out into the clearing, choking back emotions, and quietly lifted the bow out of Hob's hands and went to work. He'd done remarkably well with it, all told, and as she pulled out a knife and started carving away at the excess, she started humming along with the music, uncannily calm hands carving tiny, intricate patterns into the wood, pictures of honeycomb and bees and musical notes. Finally, as the song reached its conclusion, on the still pristine grip, she carved, in simple script, "Hob's Lament" "There's still hope, you know. One in ten isn't the worst it could be. And... even if the worst does happen, there's a cure out there, right? Somewhere? There has to be. There has to be. I'll find it. I'll see you again. Like this. I promise. I promise, okay?" Improve/Engrave the Bow: 1d100+19+10 99 Voting to learn about Inhabited. We're probably going to learn the basics of Wendigoes firsthand, and I'd rather not be caught off guard by a new form of horribleness. The Lord of Hats fucked around with this message at 03:24 on Nov 16, 2017 |
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Nov 15, 2017 22:47
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