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Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Portrait A8
Name:
Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 0
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

Backstory: Gryph spent a lot of time poking things with a stick as a child.
Now he has a knack for knowing what should and shouldn't be inside a person.

Gryph is going to make sure Biggo and the diggers are covered. Die roll:
1d100: 98

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 12:03 on Sep 21, 2017

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Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Portrait A8
Name:
Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 1
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

"Splut, shut up. Talking ain't gonna make the pain go away. And Snodis, you're lucky he needs all of us, or you'd be dead right now. Same goes for you, Digger.'
Medicing up the wounded.
Die Roll: 1d100+11 82

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.
Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 2
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

Gryph joins in with rifling through the dead, stripping clothing and armour. He can be heard muttering, 'Medical supplies, bandages. Heck maybe one of them had a heroin problem and carried their gear.on them. Come on...'
Looking for Medical supplies.
Die Roll: 1d100 83

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.
Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 3
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

Gryph grimaced at the corpse of Flutter. Snodis and Digger had already tried Grimper's patience, and those noticed second had paid the price. The Unexpectables were now 99 strong; casualties before anything that wasn't an ambush.

And another injured. Ringo would never quite be the same again, but his bleeding could be stemmed. Gryph scowled at Splut again, whose approach to healing started with his mouth and didn't get much further. Still he kept Ringo quiet as Gryph tried to make sure that Ringo kept his bits.
Getting Ringo to 2 HP: 1d100+13 95 (forgot to add skill to the roll in the roller, adjusted)

Downtime
It's hard to medic without supplies. Whatever you can scavenge, borrow or steal from the area could save another Toans life. But you gotta make sure it's clean or infection'll kill more soldiers than the enemy. Better make sure he's well-supplied.

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 23:43 on Oct 4, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 4
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine (on cooldown)

Gryph added his voice to the general confusion. 'Get them ogres!' he cried, trying to stir more of the Fromen into leaving the town and abandoning their position.

Convincing townsfolk to attack the hated enemy!: 1d100+4 100

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 5
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

Gryph dragged the ragged, somewhat white tent around, looking with pride at the large red cross he'd painted on it. Finally, somewhere to assemble the wounded to try and heal their injuries.
And there were plenty of injuries to go around. Too many injuries and not enough Toan. He'd have to see about training some minions field medics.

Medicing! Get Chore Medicing He-are!: 1d100+15 86

Downtime
Gryph is going to give his 5 Glory to help with completing Harvester's Grim Duty.

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 0
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

Gryph sniffed the air as he walked through the prison. Death, blood, guts, standard battle smells. But something wasn't right. There's an ugly air when torture and hatred were the things that occurred inside things. the smell would sink into the stone and only time could fade it. Hatred didn't happen here. It was too sterile. If they tortured To, if people were butchered, it was with clean, clinical precision. They wouldn't hate To. They wouldn't even think of them as people.

And if they were efficient they would have already started. Gryph tried to find the To that had been taken prisoner. When Ringo, Shiny, Humbug and Otter rejoined the group, Gryph sighed with relief. but Snodis and Dack were still out there.

Trying to find Dack and Snodis
Investigating the Prison: 1d100 37

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 2
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

Gryph's blood chilled as the cacophony of noise echoed through the corridors. Wendigos! Someone in the prison had been storing Wendigos?! But there was no time for thinking. Gryph ran with the To streaming towards the sound, recognising faces from the contingent left at Fostis. Wherever the hell they'd come from, Gryph was glad for their help. This was further compounded as he realised the magnitude of the task ahead. Three Wendigos! Each of them blasting out noise and din, designed entirely to distract and disorient.

With no weapons or armour to his name, Gryph was ill-prepared to take on one Wendigo, let alone three! But the Fostis garrison, despite their obvious fatigue were heavily armoured. Sporting brand new shiny swords! Maybe, just maybe, only a few would die! But Gryph needed an edge; you don't throw yourself to death unless Grimper demands it.

Humbug posted:

:siren::siren::siren:*PHWEEE*:siren::siren::siren: :toot:

Of course! Gryph ran to Humbug and Starn the Sieger, grabbing one more part of the ram and joining them in swinging it with all his might. his mouth took up the same cry as Humbug. You adapt to not having half a face, and Gryph had long learned how to whistle loudly through his nose. He put all his might into using that now.

:siren::siren::siren:*PHWEEE*:siren::siren::siren: :toot:

Grab the Ram and Help Distract the Wendigos!
Distraction Time: 1d100+2+20(ram) 116

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 01:05 on Nov 8, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Scribbleykins posted:

Nice roll! It's the best distraction roll so far if you include the +20 from the ram!

Ram roll added! We'll need a 4th,although I guess a mook can help in a pinch.

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

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

Gryph dropped the siege weapon, his arms aching. No time to rest. The wounded needed triage.

He wished he had time to set up the white tent, but right now,people were dying. Or worse.

First things first, the dazed To in front of him. Gryph pulled Gabber free of the corpse. He'd seen the To get between the flailing arm and Biggo, sacrificing self for the horde. Crazy, but smart all the same. The shield had buckled, now hanging useless from his arm, but Gabber was alright, dazed but unbloodied. Gryph bandaged his head, directed him to form a queue that would make up the less wounded triage units, those who could still walk and weren't a danger.

Not that there were many. Bodies lay all over, many of them with limbs at wrong angles or with obvious wounds. But only a few lay still, and even those were obviously alive, their fellows quickly insuring their survival. Gryph swelled with pride. Charged with survival faced against a foe so vicious even the warlord had been marked, The Horde survived. Some animal instinct or shared will had saved them, bowed and hurt, but unbroken.

Medic! Setting Up triage and directing Aid!: 1d100+13 84 (forgot to add my bandage/Medicine skill)

Gryph grimaced as he heard Splut's 'encouraging' calls. Third time. Gryph tamped down on his desire to strangle Splut with bandages. Honestly, the morale might actually improved. Splut's calls were at least getting better at encouragement. All around him were To, making splints, Hauling wounded, and attempting triage. At least the basic skills were still learned. To looks out for To. Gryph kept moving, picking up to, responding to calls setting limbs moving within the ranks.

But bigger dangers reared their head. Gryph pulled out two unnamed To, only to drop them and as he watched their flesh surge, moving unpredictably. Scrabbling backwards, Gryph realised the danger. Mutates. The wendigos were contagious. Gryph quietly marked the two in his mind, making sure that their treatment should be kept separate from the others. No telling if it spreads, and the mutates might appreciate the extra privacy as they adapt to whatever had happened to them. Should probably make sure that others didn't have the same problem. Might want to spread the word.

Downtime
The hustle and bustle of a resting army echoed in the halls. Not that Gryph would notice. He was too busy triaging, doctoring, providing medicine, Whatever was needed to heal the Unexpectables and get them back on their feet and in fighting shape. He hadn't sat down since the assault began, there were still wounded to treat.
There would always be wounded to treat.
Downtime. Healing Roll!: 1d100+13 52
OOC:eeugh.

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

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

EDIT: This used to be a thing, but I accidentally edited it, and now I've lost the original. Whoops! Never mind, nothing important, all rolls were already accounted for etc. I just deleted a post. I think I grabbed armour and rolled for Skillcore Regeneration, but got beat by patsy.

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 09:35 on Nov 15, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Warlord! Please do not Kill her!

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

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

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


Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 09:53 on Nov 15, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

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

Gryph will vote for Noostra

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 4 -> 5
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

The train of wagons and troops marched upon Fostis, with Gryph squarely in the middle keeping check on a number of wounded members. Arriving, the horde splintered, some moving towards the vault while other still moved for townspeople, interrogating them. Gryph, however, lingered near the wagons, helping set up a perimeter and guard them against sabotage. He wanted a word with Zapanda...

Guarding the wagon: 1d100+4 91

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 20:52 on Nov 28, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 5 -> 6
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

As the guards took off in pursuit, Gryph slammed his fist in the ground. One had escaped, after Gryph and the rest of the horde had vouched for them. He quickly moved to make absolutely sure that there wasn't something going on. While the others could probably capture and subdue the escapee, there was now only him watching the wagons. A perfect time for those inside to try again, or an opportunistic enemy to make a move. This was not his area of expertise...

Watching the wagons: 1d100+5 76

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 20:53 on Nov 28, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 8 -> 9
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

The triumphant squad returned, bearing the escape artist between them. His teeth had been shattered, and a small string of blood drooled from his lips as they pushed him back inside. But Gryph followed him.

"That jaw looks bad. Lemme take a look." As he stepped up and began winding a bandage around the would-be escapees head, Gryph's eyes flashed across each of the captives faces. "You'll be drinking through a straw for a while." Half a face makes a good intimidation tool. "I've just about had it with you lot. I know you didn't ask for this, but you. Owe. Us. If Grimper had his way, you'd all be dead, brain or otherwise. Now I know he can slip his bonds, and I bet he could escape again if he did. But if you do..." Gryph tightened the bandage across the jaw, drawing a whimper, "I'll grab my friends, track you down, break both of your hands, and give you to Grimper." He tied of the bandage with bow across the throat and smiled grimly at the others. "There we go. All fixed." And then the doors shut, and the boards used to secure it were nailed back in.

"Does anyone hear... drumming?"

Here came the Frö. Dancing and drumming and firing as they went.

Pythag posted:

"Shield and Ranged hordelings, to me! The Archers, they fire to a melody, to a rhythm! Look at the pattern, we can use that to our advantage. Let's go!"

Pythag, the Hero of Nagel. He'd been in the Vault. But he was calling for others, shields, ranged units, anyone to take on archers. Not Gryph. Not yet.
The rythmic drumming of the advancing army rose up through the ground and shook Gryph, his skin and bones crawling. The last time he had heard a sound this powerful was fighting three Wendigos, and Gryph hated it even more.

Noggins posted:

“The drumline!” she shouted, pointing her weapon at the foe. “Their beat is holding them together! Smash them, and the whole thing will crumble!”

Noggins, another of the Horde to have earned notoriety. He'd seen her making coffins for the members who had already fallen, making anything she could with wood to help. And he'd seen her fight, put herself in front of everything to keep her friends alive. The last battle had probably cost her more than she wanted and yet she was throwing herself at the drumline commander with a fury unmatched.

"Welp, can't let her get all the glory. Let's Beat us some Drummers, lads!"

Attacking the Drumline: 1d100+8 46 (Glory Count Mismatch: going by Spreadsheet.)

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 21:15 on Nov 28, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

WereGoat posted:

Listen kids, maybe you are jealous of your hordemates resonating. You feel scrawny, weak. You want to be as good as them, strong, powerful. You want to take shortcuts.

That was me. When the dealer came round with performance enhancing Wendigo Ichor I said no, but then others tried it. The cool kids. I wanted to fit in so I swallowed a Wendigo core whole. Yeah, that's right, a whole core.

Now one of the Ichor guys is dead, OD'd on Wendigo juice, and I'm addicted to monsterist singing, doctors say I've only got days before I'm a gonner.

Don't make my mistake, just say No to Wendigo .

Astus posted:

As a counterpoint, before consuming a Wendigo core Dack was nothing. Didn't do anything cool, didn't have any equipment or items, and was never even mentioned in passing by any of the other Unexpectables. Now, Dack is part of a cool squad with his own cool hat, people actually recognize him, and he's got cool fan art! (Prince of Space is amazing, by the way)

Alright sure, there's a chance he just falls over and dies soon, but that's the risk you need to take to be successful, right?

As the medical specialist, or at least the last person, to make sure these two aren't dead, Please consult a medical specialist (me, definitely not Doc.) about whether or not Wendigo is right for you. (It isn't, and if you ask me, I will give you a retroactive concussion, since that's the only explanation for fooling around with Monsterism. Either that or being drat stupid, which, hey, you're in the Horde.)

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 9 -> 10
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine

Gryph's chest burned as he charged. The incessant drumbeat make the earth twist and shake, but the burning in his chest propelled him into contact. He swung his fist, barely missing another Tö before planting it squarely in the nose of a drummer. As he moved forward, his hands and elbows flying, Gryph realised. He could SEE.His medicine skillcore had Resonated, even now updating him on where the drummers were hurt. Where they could be hurt more. A repetitive strain injury became a broken wrist, a bad knee was given a swift kick, ribs were shattered. And then the Ş̀̕̕͜i̷n̢g̸̵̨i̸̧͜ņ̢̨͝g̛ started. Hob fell to his knees and shook. Gryph could already see the flesh reshaping.

Gryph was surrounded. The Tö advance had ground down the Drummers, but still they held. And then Qwag stepped forward and swung her saw. In one stroke, she broke the drummers, sending some flying and dealing with more in that stroke than any who had fallen prior. As the battle swept away from Gryph, he dropped to one knee, still reeling from the heat in his chest. A cough and some gas, and Gryph was recovered.

He was one of the few. He saw Bamboo and Gado go down, their bodies almost sprouting feathered shafts. Worse were the forces who had clashed with the Dance-Fighters. Gryph saw Biggo, Humbug, Glof, Vist, and more reel back, their wounds obvious and red in the light. Worse, Grimper was down, his enemy dancing and laughing as the cohort against them gyrated in time. Harlee, a new member of the Horde leapt forth. And then she was gone. A single boot and she flew back, her head twisted at an unnatural angle. Dead before she hit the ground. But even as she died, Grimper struck. His attack was clumsy, failed to land and was countered almost immediately by the enemy Warlord. But Gryph felt the rhythm pulse, saw the warlord shift, the dance slip for not even half a beat. And Gryph understood.

These pansy dancers couldn't stand a prolonged fight. If the Horde could get up, keep fighting, refuse to quit, their enemies would fall.

Looking down at his hands, Gryph saw the blood. His knuckles were bleeding, his fingers hurt. These hands were needed for the aftermath, for the time when the Horde licked their wounds. He'd have to stop them from breaking. Wrap them, keep them contained. A quick bandage and he was ready. With a yell, he charged.

Reckless Attack: Dance-Fighter Rumble!: 1d100+9+15(skillcore) 110

OOC: I have been on a Yakuza kick lately, and this pretty much describes the horde in my eyes.

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 16:00 on Dec 1, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 10 -> 11
Skill: Bandaging/Medicine (on cooldown)

The Horde hit the Dancers like a freight train, Noggins leading as they renewed their assault. With Pythag and Ringo next to him, Gryph punched and twisted, throwing everything he could into clearing a hole. He had seen Grimper get up and rip off Agenou's moustache, seen the pain and confusion ripple through the dancers, and he was here to take advantage of it. Further screams told Gryph that the horde was still swamping the drummers, still among the String-slayers. After a moment's confusion, after taking a hit first, it seemed the Horde had struck back all at once. And they were winning. As the Dancers broke, the confusion causing them to form into two units, hope blossomed in Gryph's heart. They could do this!

And then Grimper's hand exploded.

One moment there, the next gone. Grimper now resembled more closely the beatings his Horde had taken. A small part of Gryph, one given to questioning, idly wondered if the universe itself enforced the bond between Warlord and Horde, if fate had crippled Grimper for the beatings the Horde had taken. There were always more wounded, Nagel had yet to be fully healed, and yet, Gryph knew that this fight would add to the list. To be a medic meant working, Gryph knew. But as Grimper took another kick, Gryph wondered if he would ever, truly rest.

As Grimper vomited, Gryph knew he was hurt. What kind of medical treatment does a warlord have? But the Warlord refused to go down. As Gryph watched, Grimper unsteady as he was, rose to his feet. The Breaker, and not the broken.

Grimper posted:

“Unexpectables! Finish this.”

And so it was, that Gryph, who had avoided fighting in Fostis, who hadn't taken the prison, nor stood against the Wendigos in Nagel, stepped forward to hold a Warlord back.

Holding Back Agenou: 1d100+10 50

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 12(-5: 7) -> 8
Skill: Medicine

Gryph groaned, gingerly pulling himself to his feet. He had been lost in the crazy rush of the Horde, desperately holding back the Warlord. But as he looked around at the groaning and twitching bodies of his compatriots, Gryph realised that he and the others were alive. Not merely alive, but unharmed in their crazed defence. The sight was enough to bring Gryph to hysterical laughter, chuckles hurting his ribs. The stress of combat flowed off his back, the knowledge of a possible death and adrenaline fading from his body.

And then the Horde took stock. As Madga dragged the carts forward. Gryph began working, splinting, directing and triaging. His resonated core was ready for action and the deficit of wounded were still flooding in. As Magda directed the able-bodied to strip and stack the dead, a plethora of skillcores began to surface. Gryph had his eye on one in particular. If he were ever to find himself in a scrap again, he knew it would come in handy.

Wrassling!
Loot: Wrestling Skillcore: 1d100 19
Also I'll grab a free bow: Claiming BowHarp!

His thoughts however, wandered. Magda had already warned him against trying to help the Warlord, but there was still Healing to do. And Gryph was preparing to ensure the next battle would hurt less. So he picked up a Stained Bandage and deposited his Glory.

Pay 5: Glory drops to 7. Acquire Stained Bandages!.

Gryph idly wondered if he'd be able to fashion some leather handgrips out of the remaining armour. He could use some for combat as a weapon. But perhaps he'd have to talk to someone better at crafting first. He didn't really have the time. Making his way to the prisoners medics wagon, pried the nailed boards off the doors and stepped inside, cheerfully ready to knock someone out if the Escape Artist,or anyone else, had tried something,

"Good and Bad News! Good news is, you're not dead, and neither are we! Bad news, Wendigos are involved and there are casualties, so! We're going to work. We'll be treating Tö and Frö alike. Yes, that means enemy combatants, but if you see hide or hair of Wendigo infection, you need to alert us, or kill the Frö in his bed. I don't think I need to explain how dangerous having an infectious disease is in the hospital, and given that you'll be next to them if they Wendigo out, well... consider that motivation."

He turned to Zapanda.
"Madam! Walk with me. I need to talk to you, especially about your research and theories. I'm not certain that my anti-infection protocols are equipped or sufficient to deal with Monsterism, and I'm interested in your ideas about curing and the cause, of Wendigos."

"Oh, and if you see a cursing Tö with a pet rat who answers to Grumbus, keep him out of the medic tent. He goes for a 'survival of the fittest' approach and periodically tries to infect the wounded. Nothing life threatening, but he's... overzealous."

As he stepped down from the wagon, Gryph's eyes narrowed. What the hell were Snödis, Gado and Trinh doing over there? A sizeable crowd had gathered and...

Swedish Thaumocracy posted:

"Not another step you racist interloper!
Gado's mind has been made up, he sure is a real trooper!"
Don't you dare come any closer, do not even think to interfere,
for what we do is Prögress, you should be glad to have been here!"

Gryph's eyes widened. OH SHIIIIIII...
Downtime Roll: Healing!: 1d100+15+7 71

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 01:20 on Dec 9, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.
E:quote is not edit.

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 12:16 on Dec 8, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Welcome to the Horde! Here's a link to the Discord. There's a New Player Guide available on the discord. But Basically:

1. Feel Free to join in! We've just hit a downtime, so there's a fair amount to do, be it cooking, healing or helping outwith repairs, possibly even some looting.
2. The big thing is that you get :siren:Two free items:siren: DogKissers latest post deals with one set, and you get a free weapon or armour on top of that. you can also roll for another skillcore!

As for a flag, feel free to create a cosmetic item if you want to represent it!
Again, welcome to the Horde! Try not to piss off Grimper, avoid making eye contact with Doc, don't believe anything Splut says and if Snodis asks you just say AAARRRGHNONONONONNOnononononowurgleburglesplut to becoming a Wendigo.

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 8 -> 9
Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10)

Gryph sighed as Zapanda berated Qwag. He'd already told the orderlies that Wendigos weren't to help, or at least weren't allowed contact with the wounded, but Qwag had wanted to help and the orderlies didn't have the heart to stop her. She really did just want to help. Which was more than could be said for Trinh. Her smile may have been rictus, but Gryph know that Trinh had been happy with the train of events. Now Gado had been hurt and he hadn't come into the healing tent.he was probably...

Gryph knew he had to get answers. Zapanda had wandered off, as was her due, and Gryph still had questions for her. Making sure that the orderlies had the prisoners under control, and making sure that the tent could survive without him. Gryph prepared to leave for what felt like the first time since the fight. but, as he passed Doc, merrily cutting her way into a wounded Tõ, he was interrupted by Humbug,who burst through the curtain.

Humbug posted:

"Doc! Doc, hooh, glad to have caught you...

Gryph's eyes narrowed as Humbug finished talking, his mouth going at a mile a minute. Humbug wasn't usually this talkative with Doc. And he certainly wasn't that touchy-feely either... But he definitely wasn't friendly. As Humbug left, Gryph decided to follow him. Clearly something the detective thought important was happening, and Gryph was tired of always missing out on the things happening in the camp.

The first thing he found out the door was a runner who shoved some bread into Gryph's hands, before stepping into the tent. Taking a bite, Gryph enjoyed what were probably the best rations the Unexpectables had managed to cook. Maybe Patsy had actually resonated or picked up a cooking knack. Whatever had happened, Gryph was glad for the change.

Humbug had moved on, heading to an inn that bore the marks of Grimper stumbling in. As Gryph watched, Humbug dodged a flagon before shouting into inn and scurrying away. Gryph guessed that he'd asked the Warlord a question. "Uh, what he said!" he shouted into the darkness, unwilling to deal with the drunken Grimper. Turning, Gryph followed Humbug past a Tõ clad in dancer's garb and carrying a gaudy iron pole, lost in thought.

OOC: Voting for Unity Lattice.

As he passed the pile of weapons and spare skillcores, Gryph remembered the Wrestling skillcore he'd taken, even now in his pocket. "Well, now's the time." he fished it out and swallowed it, moving to the stash and looking for a weapon. He picked up a bowharp non-committedly and made a tentative move for one of the remaining skillcores.

Rolling for the Slamming Skillcore: 1d100 33

Humbug had purchased a container of the blue goop taken from Nagel, and was now holding what appeared to be an almost-full bottle of the red goop. Was he experimenting? Trying to discover the secret of the goop? Wouldn't he do better interrogating the scientists and Zapanda that were generally in the medic tent? And had someone already used the red one? Gryph really needed a better handle on the goings on in camp. Wounded care had taken so much of his time,and then there was the skill cores and Old Guy Vault, the sheer number of Tö who gleefully tried to murder themselves somehow... When they weren't being murdered themselves.

Zapanda posted:

“Agenou's Dancers… Agenou himself. You've done a great evil this day, not that any of you care about that! Agenou was a showboater, but in peacetime his troupe were artists of the highest caliber. Your war turned them into killers, and now into the dead. Fröman art may never recover.”

Gryph grimaced as he recalled the outburst she'd laid against them. He knew enough to realise that there was no "good" side, just his side. But he did everything he could to keep the Unexpectables safe, and Agenou had come to kill them all. War hadn't turned them into killers, not any more than they were before it. And they'd killed plenty of Tö, who could have done great things. Gryph wanted the war ended, and knew that he was conscripted. The higher ups wouldn't settle for a peace, and the soldiers would just have to do what they did. Agenou and his men came to kill us, they knew the risks and took them, and we were the better men on the day. No hatred or enjoyment of the men's lives taken was for Gryph. He just wanted to get home, and hopefully do it without losing most of the people near him in the process.

But Humbug was on the move, and as Gryph followed him, he made his way back to the medic wagon. A full circuit of the camp? As Humbug neared the wagon, Gryphs eyes widened and then he was running. Zapanda was there, talking with Gado. And Humbug was offering her the red and blue Goop! Skidding to a halt, Gryph started treating Gado. Heart rate fine, wounds clear... Gado was sweating and his flesh rippled slightly. He's infected all right. Gryph was testing Gado's response to light when ice ran through him. poo poo! Gado's mask covered him, but it was obvious that the Miner was unbranded. Either he hadn't gone to Grimper, or Grimper wasn't in the mood or state to brand him. Either way, Gryph knew that if Gado mutated, someone would have to deal with him. And Gryph was the only medical personnel on site.

Humbug posted:

"Zapanda. I understand you're looking to do a trial run of the Cure, and now have the perfect opportunity to do so. We have the serums. A Cure benefits us all, so Gado will probably happily let you experiment on him given his recent, hum, life choices. I'm here to make sure that doesn't backfire on us all. Before I let you have these, though, I'll want answers to a few more questions."

As Zapanda and Humbug conversed, Gryph resolved to make sure this happened. Whatever needed to be done, he was there. Both Tö and Frö needed a cure, and right now, the Unexpectables needed a way to avoid losing more of them. And if worst came to worst, and Gado would go Wendigo... Gryph wouldn't let anyone else do what was his duty.

Assisting Humbug and Zapanda with their Experiment: 1d100+15+8 65

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 07:41 on Dec 18, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 9
Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10)

Gryph started as Noggins threw the flatpack to him. He hadn't heard the new captain approach, so intent was he on Gado's health. The eyepatched heroine seemed lost in thought, and quickly left, no doubt to carry on her captainly duties. She hadn't visited the wounded tent before, as she had never been injured, and Gryph wondered if seeing the toll their recent fights had taken were a stark, nasty wake up call to Noggins, who's considerable personal success had landed her a well-deserved captaincy. Maybe leading Tö herself had made her wonder about the cost of command. Or maybe something else was bothering her. She had been close to Hob before his Wendigoism, and by all accounts was one of the first to accept the Neötypes. Hob himself had proven to be completely lucid, still very much himself despite his new appearance. But even now, another was struggling with what could be a very dangerous change for him. As Zapanda gave Gado the serum, Gryph eyes stayed on her,watching for any sign that she was telling them less than they needed,or lying to them...

But soon it was time for the ritual. As Gryph felt the nail pierce his shoulder, he wondered how many rituals were possible. Could Grimper sustain the entire Horde off multiple nails? Only time would tell. And then Grimper killed twenty people. Gryph watched in horror as the Nailbound rose. This was beyond Wendigos, well beyond the war and fighting. This was the erasing of 20 minds, twenty Frö simply... gone. Gryph resisted the urge to vomit then and there, tamping down on his rising gullet. Killing a man trying to kill you, using Branded, if willing, Wendigos as troops and subjugating a conquered town were actions of war, but there were some things that Gryph could not condone.

And Grimper would soon cross that threshold again. Naked anger burned in Gryph's eyes as he watched the Warlord.preen clearly enjoying... that. Never mind that it were his own troops, Grimper cared only about what he saw as the power to create his own salvation. They were all interchangeable in his eyes, stepping stones on Grimpers personal path. Gryph didn't like being stepped on.

But there were more important things to take care of. And one of them was Noggins. As Gryph followed her out of the Vault, carrying Hob's Lament to the training yard, he could see the strain that seeing it all had left on the captain. She planted a Stick Ogre and Gryph paused. Then Nailbreaker came up and flashed down. A scream tore the air and the ogre exploded, before Noggins flopped to the ground.


Gryph considered the question, rhetorical as it was. And answered.

"You lead us. The same way you've been doing since Föstis. Grimper gave you that captaincy because you impressed him. But people joined your Order because they believed in you, Nog. You've never shirked a duty or run from a fight. You've never led from anywhere but the front. And you've never considered your personal successes as separate from the Horde. That dedication doesn't come from training or a ritual, it comes from you. And The Horde responds to it."

"Look, Grimper's cored. He'll do anything for more power, and if that means sacrificing everything for his own gain, that's what he'd do in a heartbeat. I don't even know if he'd spare Magda if it gave him a chance at what he wanted. But you care. You've been tallying the dead, writing signs, making sure they're remembered. That's the work of a leader, someone who might, just might, get us where we need to go, and more importantly might get us there alive." Gryph unstrapped the Arrow Flatpack given to him by Noggins and put it on the ground next to her.

"I'm no soldier. I'm a medic. I don't care who wins this war. I just want to get home, preferably without losing everyone else on the way. But if that's going to happen, I need someone to lead me. Someone who cares about what happens to the Horde, someone who's not willing to let the dead go unremembered. Grimper's not going to do it, Snödis is power-tripping, and Trinh is feeding that. I got nothing against the Neötypes, but when the war ends, and it will, there's no happy ending there. We need someone who isn't just concerned for the heavy hitters. So you're it, Nog, until you die or quit."

"Gado's infected, and I don't know what he's planning. Maybe he's just gonna run away from camp and take his chances. Maybe he'll inject the syringe Zapanda gave him and be fine. Or maybe he'll panic and Zapanda played us, turning him faster and harder in the middle of the camp. If that happens, someone will have to put him down. I'm not asking you to do it. But if I'm not fast or strong enough or something goes wrong, I could really use your hammer."

Voting for Noostra

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 08:30 on Dec 21, 2017

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 10 -> 11
Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

On the road again, this time to Oxnyard. Gryph couldn't say he wasn't relieved. Noostra being dug in, meant they'd probably take more casualties,and the horde was fragile these days. There'd been too much hard fighting, without proper rest between them, and Gryph wasn't sure they'd even recovered from the beating at Nagel.

But the physical wounds weren't the greatest threat. An aura of distrust had settled on the camp, and morale was low. Ringo was the only one to emerge unscathed from the OG device. the other's had either died or...changed. Humbug had accused Doc, and Grimper had dismissed it. A crisis of faith had overtaken Noggins, although Gryph's words had helped get her head straight. He had been taken aback by having an oath sworn at him, but that was Nog. And she kept her promises. Hob being cured of Wendigoism would help her, and would have brought morale up, but Snödis was withdrawing from regular company, trusting in her squad exclusively, and Gryph knew she was doing... something. But the worst was Gado.

Infected and given something that might, might help stave off the effects, Gado had been quiet the whole time. Gryph knew the Digger was a good Tö at heart, that his infection had come as an attempt to help the Horde. But a million things could go wrong, and when the operation is this delicate, there's no room for mistakes. So when Gado volunteered for the first shift, Gryph followed him. When he climbed to the top of a wagon, Gryph followed him. And as Gado stared out into the scenery, Gryph took the stained bandages from his pack and attempted to clean them, one eye on the scenery... and one eye on Gado.

1.First Shift, watching with Gado
Bandage cleaning/Watching: 1d100+10+15 68

2. B

3. D

4. A: Corrupt Ritual, what happens and how bad does it get?

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 11 -> 12
Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

I'm a little indisposed for about a week, so there'll be smaller posts from me for a while.

Claiming a sprig of hookseed if it has medical properties. Or if it doesn't, really.

Ranged attack: Slamming an arrow into the first patrol!: 1d100+11+10 53

Oh, and for the 'enough' thing, I'll claim a +1 weapon if possible: a pair of handgrip/bandages for my knuckles.

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 05:46 on Jan 8, 2018

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 12 -> 13
Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

Gryph smiled grimly as the ragtag team dragged the first patrol off the road. One without a hitch. Everything else going smoothly so far...

And then the shouting began. And the alarms. Someone had screwed up, and now Oxnyard was buzzing, it's troops rapidly mobilising.

Gado began banging on the wagon, screaming about it working, and Gryph's heart perked up. The digger was alive and unwendigo'd, although Zapanda had said a reprieve, not a cure. But she'd been true to her word.

As Gado sprinted off to the newly formed ST6, Gryph took stock of the situation. An enemy commander on the field, her troops arrayed and ready to fight. The Unexpectables disorganised, without formation or direction. His work would begin soon.

But a burning need to test his new skillcore overrode him, and Gryph found himself standing near Somno, the Fro of BIGNESS, facing down a rampaging boar charge. Wrestling a boar is like wrestling any other large four-limbed beast, right?


Wrestling a Boar!: 1d100+10+12 115, 125 with banner.

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3
Glory: 13 -> 14
Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

The boars charging past him, the squeal as Somno landed and the sheer adrenaline of killing something much larger than him spurred Gryph onwards. But as the Onagar fired, the enemy commander moved, and the boars survived to wreak havoc on the Horde. Screams and cries of pain were already rising on the plain, and Gryph hurried towards the bodies of the fallen and wounded, already searching in his pack of supplies for bandages.

A bandage there, a splint, or a stitching, the tools of the trade overtook him. Now was a time of healing, there in the blood-soaked mud. The screams of people fighting and dying were simply drowned out by the thudding in his ears. Idly, Gryph realised he was staring at the back of Gado, still manning the Onagar...

Bamboo posted:

“My Queen, Oh Gees, or whatever else out there that may be listening, HEAR ME! I seek retribution for my murdered Family!! I will make a deal with you! NAME YOUR PRICE!!!

The screams of Bamboo cut through the fog, and Gryph was moving before he knew. The diagnosis wasn't good. Bamboo clearly bleeding from a wound on the side, yet still screaming to the heavens for someone, anyone to help. Sucy had granted her tuned shield to the hurt To and Gryph's brow frowned at Trinh, staring at Bamboo with a quizzical look And then Gryph tackled Bamboo, his fingers already stitching and bandaging her wound.

"The Oh Gees help those who help themselves, To! You want Vengeance? GET UP AND FIGHT!"

HEALING (using bandages): 1d100+15+10+13 82,107 with banner.

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 14 -> 15
Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

Gryph silently cursed as the bandages disintegrated, their long travel and exposure to conditions overcoming their healing properties. Next to him, Bamboo clung to Sucy's tuned shield. But as he looked into her eyes, he saw the spark. Her call had been one of desperation, a plea in light of the horrors before her. But that spark promised that Bamboo had not given up, that despite her wounds, she would still fight.

Gryph tried to grin. But as he prepared to tell her to follow him, to lead and protect her out of the battlefield, reality shifted. The enemy commander launched a storm of stakes into the air, and then...

BOOM!

Where did Gryph end up?: 1d6 1: Pitch Black Room

The world was black, and confused, horses, knights and To all mingled in the dark, unable to see and trying not to hurt their friends. Gryph heard the telltale draw of harpbows, heard the yelling of To as they got their bearings and realised: They needed light. So he grabbed the biggest, hardest thing he could find (a horse, with knight attached) and tried to slam it through the nearest wall, hoping to break it down and let in some light.

SLAMMING the knights. or more accurately, the walls with a knight.: 1d100+14+10 93, 73 with pitch black room.also, nice

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 15 -> 16
Skill: Medicine (15), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

The walls crumbled and Gryph knew that Grimper had killed the enemy commander. That didn't mean there wasn't enemies to still fight, but the battle was over. Timeto take stock. Bury the wounded. Find the dead. And Gryph knew one of the dead immediately. Only one other person wore the pink and brown cuirass of a medic, and she lay still on the ground where the boars had poured through the lines. Well, she won't need that armour any more, and mine's a little ragged....
Free loot: Medic's Cuirass + 2

Harvesting and finding skillcores was always a long and labourious prospect, but Gryph didn't linger. Luckily, the only thing he was interested in came up early.
Skillcore Claim: Wrestling!: 1d100 8

OOC: Welp.

Too bad he was in a hurry. His shouted request would probably be ignored. Didn't Humbug accuse Doc of murder? Gryph wondered where the detective had.... GADO!

Giving Gado more time wasn't enough. The high stress of combat would have supercharged the Monsterism, burning through what had been a few days in minutes. And so Gryph took off running to Zapanda.Zapanda luckily had already been informed of and treated Gado, so after making sure that Gado was okay, Gryph wandered into the medic tent, where Hob and Splut were waiting, already banged up. Splut was busy chatting, and Gryph mused about the captain. His newfound responsibility suited him, and he'd even managed to find the right way to calm those in the room. Only a few weeks ago, he'd been trying to convince another To that their arm wasn't broken and now he was a welcome sight in the healing tent.
Downtime Roll: Healing and taking stock: 1d100+15+15 35
OOC: Cripes! That is bad!

Lack of sleep, tiredness and stress had ground Gryph down. As dangerous and awkward having Doc around was, she was one of the few other medical practitioners out there, and Gryph was getting overwhelmed with the sheer volume of injuries. Supplies were running low and things were not looking good. But there were good people still visiting, including Bamboo.

Bamboo posted:

Gryph was busy healing the wounded at the aid station, which made him rather easy to track down; she approached him cautiously.

“Gryph, thank you for your help during the battle, if it wasn’t for the kindness of my fellow Hordlings, I doubt I would have survived that fight. Yes, the Oh Gees help those who help themselves, and, sometimes, we all need a little help from our ‘Friends’.”

She winced at using that word, waiting for Gryph to correct her.

“Anyways, I owe you one, let me know if you ever need help with anything.”

"Anytime." Gryph grinned "It's the only way we stick out this war. As for the favour, try not to stand out in the open when calling for help. But watch yourself, and stay alive."

A short time later, after contributing... meagerly to the healing of others, Gryph followed Splut as he and the other Captains gathered around Grimper.

Noggins posted:

"With all due respect, sir, moving out immediately would be a mistake. If you throw us against Noostra's walls as we stand right now, we're going to be crushed. We just have too many wounded right now. You said yourself that the enemy knows we're here, but that isn't the same thing as saying that they're going to rush us. I don't know Sikatris, but if she's a high-ranking Commander, she's going to be crafty, and we can't go into this half-cocked. She has to know that we were able to take down Jaune, and probably Agenou as well--she's going to take us too seriously to just send out an army immediately and assume that that'll do the job. She's going to take the time to make sure it's done right. But that takes time"

"If we leave right now, I think we run into the interceptors close to Noostra, and we're fighting their full forces. But if we wait just a little bit, treat our wounded and gather up the warbeasts, we can probably get past them, and hit Noostra while they're still poking around here. We'll be in better shape, they'll have fewer people... I like our odds a lot better that way. It'll still be a rush to get in and out before the interceptors return, but it'll be doable."

Snodis posted:

"Aye, and Neötype and Infiltrator Squads have together come up with a plan to grant us further intel on the city, if you but stay the Hordes hand a moment, that we may execute the final stage."

"Nog's right. The last time we had anything approaching a chance to heal was Fostis, and we've fought and killed two armies since then. We're running on fumes, and we've been doing that for too long. We still haven't fully recovered from Agenou, and this fight hurt most of our best taking on Jaune. Even Ringo, your NeoTo is banged up. And Noostra has known we're coming for weeks. Thy're already prepared for us.

Gryph looked Grimper in the eyes. "Do you want to break, Noostra, or do you want to break the Horde? Because if we attack now, you'll fail. And then your mission is over."

Privately, he wondered what Snodis had planned. The Neotype Captain had been less outspoken in recent days, but Gryph knew more and more that that wasn't good news. Whatever she had planned, Gryph hoped it didn't end with an outbreak of Rampant Monsterism. Now the only thing to do is get drunk with Zapanda and see if she has a working theory to fix this...

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Green Intern posted:

Ringo’s having an off day, trying to follow Gryph’s techniques.

Nah, you're following them fine. Gryph's techniques aren't up to it this downtime.

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 16
Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

Gryph looked around grimly at the horde as a chant went up. Noggins had made her position clear, and Gryph agreed with her. He'd told Grimper they needed rest, that taking their time would give the Horde time to recuperate, that the infiltrators scheme would work better the more time they had. And that Grimper's impatience, whatever burned in his heart was causing him to ruah headlong. He had led them to victory, but Noostra wouldn't be off guard. And they were already prepared for the Horde.


Taking the time to rest up and plan their attack was the safest option, the one that would keep the most To alive. But here the Horde was, eager to get to Noostra, eager to throw themselves at the walls and drat the consequences. Gryph knew that that reckless abandon, that aggressive action, had been at the forefront of Horde victories, that in many ways, it was the only thing that had kept them alive.

Certainly hasn't been our medicine. he thought glumly. Gado infected, supplies low and too many wounded. Gryph worried that disease might start spreading. They'd set up camp by procedure, followed rule and regulation, but with so many hurt, a single slip could multiply.

Gryph had already shown his misgivings about Grimper, and had Grimper been the only one to push them to Noostra, Gryph would have put his life on the line to stand up. But this was for the Horde. And he couldn't fight the horde to stop them doing something that could kll them.

He srill had that mushbrewm waiting for him at the store, right? Maybe he'd get drunk. Maybe buy another and try and actually talk to Zapanda. Gryph doubted she had any state secrets or information related to the war. No, he just wanted to talk to someone. Someone who knew the profession, someone who might actually be solving one of the worst problems in the world, or might have been, instead of patching up people who were getting themselves killed.

Olds, I need a drink...

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 16 => 17
Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

Noostra. The city rose above its surroundings, the large wall and spire visible for miles. Gryph had been eyeing it since it appeared, and as the medic wagon pulled to a halt, Gryph kept staring, his expression grim. The medic tent didn't need him to set up, and they were here for the long haul. Whatever happened, there would be more than enough work soon.

And the Fro medics were still locked up. Gryph had always wondered if they were planning another escape, but their first aborted attempt and subsequent pummelling seemed to cow them. Gryph worried about that, too. Not that he didn't sympathise with them, and were he in their position, he'd definitely be looking for the opportunity. But they'd seemed almost content to simply heal the Horde and put up with the fear, the cramped quarters, the strain of work. Maybe they were planning something, or maybe Zapanda had convinced them that they could continue their work. They had, and Gryph had seen Gado around camp, still quiet and infected, but alive and himself. That helped.

Grimper stomping up to the wagon and wrenching the doors open was a surprise to Gryph,as was the revelation that Zapanda was none other than the sister of Sikatris. But as Grimper laughed and stomped off, Gryph stared angrily after him, quietly seething. With a final glance at the Commander, Gryph lightly turned and knocked politely at the medic's door.

'Sorry 'bout Grimper, he's been in far too good a mood for a while. Seems to be elated that he might achieve something, even if he gets us all killed in the process. But I forgot to thank you. Gado's one of us, and you didn't have to help him. While we're here with nothing to do, can we talk? I want to know about Monsterism.'

Talking to Zapanda: 1d100+20+16 106

EDIT: OOC: Whoops, that should have been 16 for glory. Fixed in post.

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 17 => 18
Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

Gryph smiled wanly as the doors shut again, its occupants unwilling to risk being discovered or hurt in the ensuing conflict. Zapanda's last words echoed in his mind. 'Fro were never my enemy,' he whispered quietly, as he tucked the notes safely away in a pouch, making sure that the two copies were secure.

Sucy posted:

As the conversation finished, Sucy approached the pair. Zapanda, I think we can help each other here. I want this research passed on too, but just leaving it lying around somewhere is going to be risky. However, I've come into possession of an OG artifact that lets me send messages directly to people like this. I could send a message to your sister directly after we drop it off so it can be found by the right people. I need to know however if these messages can be intercepted by anyone, as we can't have Grimper find out about it. Your sister is a Commander and you work with a team that likely used OG tech, can you tell me anything about it?
After she had finished her request, she continued in a more somber tone:
And if you want, I can pass on a message for you to your sister, or if any of your colleagues want to pass on something to their families.

Gryph started as Sucy dashed up, babbling. Clearly she had heard the exchange but was willing to help.But before he could reply, Sucy dashed off, running as the camp mobilised.

Verika posted:

"Gryph. Keep watch over the caravan, won't you? We don't want our precious supplies getting ransacked!"

"On it!" he called to the travelling Knight. Hmm, guarding. He needed four non- interested, quiet and ignorant.... perfect! He didn't like the methods of creation but right now, he could use them. Quickly pointing at four of the Nailbound, Gryph ordered them. "Surround the Caravans and keep a close watch. We could be vulnerable to enemy sappers!" The Nailbound seemed to be messing with some sort of homemade... Is that Sacrifire?

Whatever. Gryph clambered on to the wagon and looked around. He needed to find somewhere secure and public, somewhere that the Fro would protect, but would pick over once the Horde was gone and examine things that were out of place. The Thumbscrew loomed over Noostra as he kept lookout, his thoughts constantly on what may become his greatest contribution, not jut to the war, nor the Horde, but the world itself.

Guarding the wagons: 1d100+17 35

He was not that adept at guarding.

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 18 => 19
Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

The wall fell. A crack, a boom and Noostra's gate fell. The Horde were in to the city. As Gryph watched Ringo and the Neotype's gain the wall, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. War had come to Noostra, and the Horde was in rare form. But the expected shouts of war and clashing of weapons didn't come.

Something's wrong.

The bulk of the Horde had begun spilling into the city, and Gryph came to his feet. 'Watch the wagons. And Stay Here! No Sacrifire or killing yourself heroically' He yelled to the Nailbound guarding the wagons. And then he ran for the gate

Dog Kisser posted:

All around them, down all the streets and byways, similar reports of shattered glass sounded. The Horde immediately drew in, heads turning this way and that to see the silent army walking down the street towards them. They didn’t seem to be in a rush, but neither were they slow. They were methodical, in an almost half-hearted way. They didn’t seem frightened. They didn’t seem excited. They looked, for all the world, like they were distractedly walking through a park, in a way that just happened to expertly bring them directly towards the Horde. The Inhabited. Did they turn the whole damned city!?

Gryph arrived to chaos.The shattering glass was the first in a chorus of sounds, and Gryph took little solace in the traditional sounds of war starting up. The screams of alarm and clashing of weapons rang as he finally gained the gate and looked down on the marching horde of grey, statue-like soldiers. No, not soldiers. Civilians. Gryph almost threw up as his memory of the Sacrifire wielded by the Nailbound flashed in his mind. The uncaring, vicious cruelty of Grimper was known to him... But for the first time, Gryph wondered if all Commanders were like that. If every one of them considered people as nothing more than tools or toys to be used against each other and then discarded.

Noggins posted:

"UNEXPECTABLES! ADVANCE!"

Gryph watched as the Captain hefted her hammer and waded in, the Coffin form of Jo next to her. But there were a lot of people missing from the front line. Pythag and Somno were next to her, but the Knights were busy with something else, and Gryph soon saw exactly what that was.

Dog Kisser posted:

A sudden streak of light flicked down from somewhere near the top of the Thumbscrew Relay and took a Nailbound square in the chest. They fell, clutching at a foot long, chalky spike protruding from their central mass. As they watched, the spike opened, peeling like a banana and blossoming into a chalk-white flower. The man shriveled as though drained of life, dying even as the white flower turned blood-red.

Gryph's eyes widened, and then he was head down and slamming his shoulder through the nearest entryway into the houses. He didn't know how fast that weapon fired, or how quickly it reloaded, its range or if its ammunition did anything more than bloom as it sucked the lifeblood out of its victim. He had no illusions as to the accuracy of its wielder. You don't take a shot from that far away without being confident and its effectiveness was clear. As he moved and started climbing to the second floor, he mentally tallied who would be the most vulnerable to the sniper. Noggins armoured and in the middle of it all, she's pretty safe. But Starn... The Siege captain was distinctive and flying. And as Gryph slid carefully past a window, the form of Hobs butterfly flapped into view, weaving and at least attempting evasive flying. If he was hit... Gryph's new uniform was snugger and had better padding, but the pouches were the same, and Gryph's hands automatically pulled a mirror out of his uniform. Alright, let's see if we can make him look...

Flattening himself against the wall, he very slowly inched the mirror over the windowsill, catching the light and deflecting it towards the tower.

Come on. Take the bait.

Distraction Roll! What's that shining in the window?!: 1d100+18 62

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 19 => 20
Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

The light from the tower flashed, but no red flowers bloomed. Gryph smiled. He missed. That's one shot down. Every shot that didn't hit was one more that the Horde didn't take and they had enough to deal with, given the Inhabited. But as the Horde cut their way through the masked throng, Gryph's eyes slid forward to the form of the enemy commander.

Sikatris. Everyone said she was smart and capable. Even Grimper seemed afraid of facing her. Gryph's eyes narrowed But this isn't a fighter. She wouldn't beat Grimper's made for breaking. She wouldn't... be here... Gryph's eyes widened as the puppet of Sikatris ballooned out, and then started leaking red.

MADMIST! Gryph hadn't had the time to develop a gas mask for working in it, and he knew for a fact that the Horde wasn't ready. Luckily, as he broke the window and climbed to a roof, he could see the Madmist spread. high above it, he catalogued the spread, the position of the Inhabited, and despaired. With the Inhabited immune and pushing the Horde in, the Mist itself would corral and trap them in the city, making them easy meat.Or just leave the mist to take care of us.

Then the light from the sun dimmed as Starn pulled up from his attack run, and inspiration dawned.

"Starn! Hob! Bring your mounts down low over the Horde, You'll keep the mists back from us! I'll handle the sniper"

And then he was moving, his bow firing vaguely at the Thumbscrew, with no attempt to hit, merely to look like the most dangerous thing for the sniper to aim at. Vaulting over a roof, ducking behind a wall. And then he started trying to pull up a shield of tiles. He needed cover, dammit!

Wrestling tiles out of the roof for Cover: Distraction!: 1d100+10+19 129
NATURAL 100!
Natural 100 Roll!: 1d100 75
Final Distraction Roll: 204!

Torchlighter fucked around with this message at 04:52 on Mar 7, 2018

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.

Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 20 => 21
Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

Once was quite enough. The bolt flashing through the tile he had pulled up was far too close for comfort, and Gryph took the time to find the nearest exit of the roof.which may have involved throwing himself bodily of it. The street was chaos, the Horde and Inhabited tangled in combat. Far before him, near the cloud of madmist and gates of the thumbscrew, The boom of an explosion rocked him. Sacrifire. Suddenly the bottle carried by the Nailbound clicked into place, the pit of Gryph's stomach simply falling. Another tool. Another group killed for an advantage. More people butchered for your victory. But the Thumbscrew was open! And Grimper needed volunteers.

Everything in Gryph's head told him it was trap, that worse things were about to happen, But he had to know. He had to know what Grimper was about to say. And if there was ever a secure, public place that the Fro would come back to in this cursed place, it was the Thumbscrew.And so Gryph took a deep breath, lowered his head and charged through the mist into the Thumbscrew.

Slamming into the inhabited in the Thumbscrew: 1d100+20+10 109

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.
\
Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 21 => 22
Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

They kept coming. Grimper may have toasted the first wave, but the Inhabited just kept coming. In the confines of the Thumbscrew, Grimper's team had the edge: Qwag's size and strength, Grimper and the battle-hardened were a force much stronger than simple To. But Gryph knew that the sooner they could finish this, the faster they could rejoin the Horde. And so he lunged forward, looking to tip the odds and help force their way through the Inhabited.

Fight Your Way Through: Wrestle the Inhabited!: 1d100+10+21 71

Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.
\
Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 22 => 23
Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

Finally, The Thumbscrew. Splut and Sucy had taken care of the technicians looking to cripple the messaging station, and the team hustled quickly into the control room. As Grimper began bellowing orders to hold off the Inhabited, Gryph began stealing glances around the room, looking for nooks and crannies. If there was anywhere public, secure and that the Fro would return to, it was here. But did he trust them with the all-important notes,any more than he trusted his own Commander?

Sikatris did this. She released the Madmist, made the Citizens Inhabited. They may have willingly put the masks on, but Sikatris lied to them. The Horde wasn't perfect. It had it's share of murderers and thieves, and Gryph knew that civilians who ran into certain members of the Horde would be dead. But they were a hundred strong. They couldn't kill the civilians enough to warrant the senseless, heaving tide of Inhabited that now roamed Noostra. No, those civilians had been told that the Horde were merciless, that they would butcher the townsfolk.Whatever was happening here, it wasn't for the good of To, nor Fro. It was Warlords, pure and simple.

So, in that tower, Gryph kept his eyes peeled, looking for a place to hide the notes, and a place where, in the mud, blood and pride of Warlords, a To could make a difference.

Slam those buttons; Follow instructions: 1d100+10+22 57

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Torchlighter
Jan 15, 2012

I Got Kids. I need this.
\
Name: Gryph
HP: 3/3
Glory: 23 => 24
Skill: Medicine (20), Wrestling (10), Slamming (10)

Gryph's head was low as the Commander raged, his ears barely hearing Grimper's rant as he pushed and worked the buttons. Sucy's messages worked their way through his head, every part of the conversation registering. Sikatris was here. In the conversation. Grimper pulled a nail from his clothing and Gryph's stomach churned as his epithets grew. We can't do this.

"Splut posted:

Purging the Inhabited is a message that needs to be sent.

Neebs posted:

"We must at least make them pay, even if we're bound to lose the war. As sick as this level of destruction might be; ultimately Frö started this war by killing our Queen; we must make them remember our nation somehow."

Gryph turned as they began speaking.

"You're wrong. The madmist hasn't spread throughout the city. The North is still clear. And the civilians wouldn't leave without their children. If you can promise me, without a shadow of a doubt, that there's no innocents here, then fine, kill 'em all. But you can't because there's still a chance. And I can't stand by."

The rest of his speech was interrupted as Humbug tossed a glory pouch to Gado. His shoulders squared, Humbug's walk was that of the condemned, yet determined as ever. He's going to get himself killed. Gryph's eyes widened and then he was running,his hands going for Humbug's back.
I've never done this before... only ever seen it.

But he had to try.

Sucy, I can't make you do this. I can't stop you. But I can't stand by. Modify or Unravel it, kill as many inhabited as you can near us, but don't let Noostra die.

To Nerve Pinch! Turn off Humbug non-lethally: 1d100+20+22 63

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