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Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Face: 6D
Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception
Glory: 0 -> 1 -> 2 (downtime + action)

Backstory: Gawp was born to a peasant family in a mountaintop village of miners. His childhood was spent keeping an eye on the townspeople, scanning the horizons for danger, and watching his betters at work in the mines. Being a bit on the scrawny side, Gawp was never well-suited for the backbreaking work of mining and hauling ore, but he WAS good at spotting veins of minerals from great distances. When he wasn't on alert on guard detail, Gawp was often sent on the village's scouting missions to conduct geological surveys for the bigger and stronger folk. Since he was often forced into doing all the "light labor" for his mining brothers, Gawp eventually made himself learn his letters and numbers so he could be more useful to his teammates when out on trade expeditions.
When the army recruiters came to his village seeking miners who were capable of swinging a weapon, Gawp was offered up instead.

~ ~ ~

Gawp awoke late in his shoddily-pitched pup tent, keenly aware that he was NOT DREAMING... yes, he was actually IN THE WAR - IN THE ARMY! He had merely gone through the motions all day yesterday, but nonetheless it had still left him drained and exhausted, and so he must've overslept...

Gawp quickly climbed the nearest tree and took in the scene of the war camp, his four eyes roving independently across the tentscape in multiple directions. Amid the relative chaos of the camp, Gawp could already spot several smaller war parties banding off and heading in different directions. The first group to leave was lightly kitted out and seemed to vanish into the forests - that must've been the scouting party leaving already! (drat, we missed it!) A second group appeared to be dressing themselves in the enemy's garb and was getting ready to depart. Yet another group could be seen carrying loads of shovels, spikes, and explosive materiel to somewhere deep in the woods. Yikes!

War was a messy affair, as usual. Gawp considered his options, and realized there was no point in dawdling further. He had to to join up with a team that can make use of his skills, and preferably it'll be one that'll keep him furthest from danger.

Gawp will dig. in times of war a shovel can be safer to hold than a sword.

Help the digging team: 1d100 77

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 6, 2017 around 02:25

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Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (active)
Glory: 2 -> 3

Backstory: Gawp had never fought another goblinoid before - Fröman, Töan, or otherwise. Well, actually, Gawp had his siblings, sure, and growing up they had gotten plenty rowdy and rabble-roused with each other from time to time, but never had things gotten truly violent. And sure, when the other miners would drink and get into their fisticuffs in the after-hours, Gawp knew better than to get in their way. He'd gotten socked enough times trying to break up their drunken antics. Even then, those bar-scraps never really turned deadly - well, except for that one time (but that was an accident that could've happened to anybody).

Battle: Gawp gripped the wooden spade tightly in his hands - its edge may be blunt but its hefty weight was reassuring. He peered through the bushes from his spot in the trenches, watching the faces of the enemy as everything went horribly wrong for them. He saw their dismay as panic, alarm, confusion and despair swept through them as they were slaughtered in droves, taken down from within and from behind. When the forward guard had all turned their backs to deal with the internal assault, Gawp and the others diggers in his team leapt from their hiding spots and joined in the fray.

His weapon raised in a full sprint, Gawp charged at the enemy's exposed backs, praying the whole while through pounding breaths that neither he nor his trenchmates would alert the forward guard's attentions, at least not until he'd gotten his first strike in. Throbbing with adrenaline, Gawp hurtled himself towards the nearest Fröman: an armored mounted rider who had just pulled himself up from being pinned under his mount. Gawp brought the wooden blade of his shovel crashing down on the helmeted skull of the enemy with an ear-splitting *THRACK* as shards of wood splintered in all directions. The Fröman soldier lurched bodily to the ground and rolled onto his back, and Gawp could just make out the skin of the neck showing through his armor, so he placed the cracked blade of his shovel against the throat of his dazed opponent and put all his weight against it...

When the guardsman started flailing his limbs, Gawp pinned them under his knees before a blade could be drawn and pushed harder on his spade. The shovel blade cracked and split, the ends splintering into the enemy's neck. Gawp gaped at his gasping foe, tears welling in his eyes. He held the handle of his shattered shovel firmly in place and pushed as hard as he could until he was absolutely certain that his opponent was thouroughly dead.

War was a messy affair, as usual.

~ ~ ~

When Gawp heard the Töan victory cries coming from further down the caravan train, a second wave of adrenaline suddenly struck him. Sweet mother of victory, is that what this sensation is?! A RECKLESS RUSH FOR LOOT overcame him, as his four eyes flitted in all directions he saw how the the other Töan warriors around him went from cheering and elated in the throes of success to frothing mad, stripping down all they could see for parts, bodies included.

Gawp saw that he had very little time to waste - if he wanted something rare off his dead guardsman, like a crossbow, a jewel, a magic pair of boots, or a key to the caravan's safe, he'd have to search with all his Perceptive might. Maybe he could find something useful for the Boss?!

Searching for Rare Loot: 1d100+10 44

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 6, 2017 around 02:26

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

/ /
Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (cooling)
Glory: 3 -> 4

Downtime: Gawp stared into his empty hands, raw and caked with dirt. They were still shaking from all the death and excitement. That was his first bloodrush, too! He hadn't stopped sizing everybody up as they donned their ill-begotten gains and slung their looted treasures over backs and shoulders. Those sly-grinning dogs! Gawp was glaring at the shield on Pythag's back when one of Gawp's eyes was met by the Mathematician's steely neutral gaze. Gawp noted just the slightest twinge of disgust erupt cross Pythag's face before the other Töman could tear his eyes apart. That was... okay! There had been worse reactions to Gawp's Monsterism before. The spindly four-eyed Töan suddenly felt quite naked and exposed, and itched to have something solid that he could call his own.

Gawp stood by and witnessed as several others gathered around the body of Flutter, each chipping their efforts into the rite of Extraction for the dead Töman's rare and precious skillset. Gawp considered being a beastmaster of butterflies...

Whenever Gawp had any dreams of flying, he'd always dreamed that he was zipping along on the back of a giant dragonfly that he'd named Scooter who was way faster but far, far smaller than how big the biggest butterflies and moths could get (potentially!). Gawp always loved those magical flying dreams, and recalling his imaginative childhood helped Gawp take his mind off the long slog that lay ahead...

~ ~ ~

When Gawp awoke from his reveries of high-speed aerial maneuverings, he was standing squarely before the stalls of the great and powerful Nailsmith Magda, a measly two Glory tokens scraping together in his coinpurse. He glowered with abject consternation as another Töman selected the very shield he'd been eyeing and bought it outright with his saved-up Glory points. Gawp's expression curdled with obvious envy. That lucky stiff!

Gawp decides to offer his services as a personal assistant to the great and powerful Magda. Maybe he could stand to make some extra Glory tokens on the side and gain a powerful ally in the mighty quartermistress QuarterMASTER in the process, yes.

As Gawp's mother always said, (that proud and haughty Töwoman) "If they're bigger than you, Gawp, you'd better kill 'em with kindness." Let's see if flattery can take Gawp places:

"Oh mighty and fearsome Magda, how might this lowly Töan servant best assist you?"
Offer Personal Services to Crusher Magda of the Asskicker Horde, High Nailsmith First-Class: 1d100+2 81


Horde Votes: (pending Gawp's survival)

"I know enough about Monsterism, myself... I want to hear more about the RITUAL OF THE NAIL."

"Mining towns mean mountains, and mountains are easier to defend if an enemy general decides to bring his army swinging our way. Besides, I've always heard that the mineral deposits at FOSTIS MINES are far richer than the ones back at home. I just hope that I don't get homesick if we go."

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 6, 2017 around 02:26

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

/ /
Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception
Glory: 4 -> 6 (DK bonus)

Downtime (part 2): Gawp arrived at the camp's central bonfire early enough to secure a standing spot among the frontmost rows of the horde. As the other members of the Unexpectables warmed themselves before the bonfire and stared into its seductive depths, Gawp took the opportunity to listen in on the conversations of those around him. You couldn't tell by looking at him, but Gawp was an unabashed looky-loo and an unrepentant eavesdropper.

All things considered, the horde's morale seemed to be quite high tonight.

When the General Grimper arrived (magnificently deep in his cups) and took his seat in the traditional place of honor (wherever he drat well pleased), Gawp found himself standing off and slightly to the side of the great General, just where he liked to be. Positioned so, Gawp could hear every word of the Boss's slightly slurred speech while still blending in safely out of sight - precisely where his Monsterism wouldn't be such a huge distraction.


Then again:

General Grimper posted:

"Every once in a while, people just grow up wrong - four eyes over here,” he hiked a thumb, “probably looked almost normal when they were born, and now they're a freak. At least all your eyes look functional."
For a brief moment, all the eyes and ears of the Unexpectables were on him, rather than the other way around. Gawp fidgeted with excitement. He hesitantly attempted to murmur, "Th-Thank you for noticing me, oh great leader," but it came out as nothing more than a stunned, stammering croak.

General Grimper posted:

"That's a thing with Monsterism, you know. Extra stuff. Eyes, mostly, but fingers, even arms. Mostly they're just dead weight. Not hooked up right, or whatever. Useless freaks. Don't none of you tell me if you have floppy weird bits that I can't see, I don't care."
Gawp blushed. He felt the heat rise to his sunken cheeks as he sensed himself being even more intensely scrutinized by his peers than before, for far more private reasons. He could feel the third ear on the back of his head burning bright from the onset of a blood rush. He felt like such a freak right now, but maybe it was in the good way that could be of help to the army...

General Grimper posted:

"All you can do is kill it and burn the bodies."
Gawp gasped with an audible squeak as Grimper snapped his fiery eyes back onto him - he'd been NOTICED BY GRIMPER AGAIN! Not good! There was a glint of true danger in the General's snarl before he cooled:

General Grimper posted:

"Oh, for Reina's sake, I'm not going to burn YOU. Your Monsterism is benign, or else you'd already be dead. Rampant Monsterism is where things get real ugly, and I urge you all to keep a close eye on your fellows. If they start to turn - and you WILL notice a difference! - let me know and I'll make it painless. The last thing I need is Wendigos tearing up my camp!"

Gawp glanced all around him to find any other Unexpectables showing signs of Monsterism and noticed that everyone else was doing the same. Deep down, Gawp had always known what it was that everyone was afraid of when it came to his Monsterism: it wasn't that he had four eyes and three ears, it was that people were afraid that he'd turn Wendigo and kill everybody. Gawp had always heard of the monstrous things in legends and hushed whispers, but even then the legends and whispers were usually directed at him, behind his back... where his third ear could hear them, conveniently enough.

For the first time, he realized that there were quite a few others with Monsterism, just like him! You could immediately tell who they were because they now stood in pockets of empty space created by the other horde-members suddenly keeping their distance. Gawp the Perceptive made a mental list of the other Tö showing signs of Monsterism that he could spot at tonight's bonfire:

Tix the Tumbler,
Dack the Athlete,
Mason the Mason,
Snödis the Poet,
Graxon the Bonegineer,
Bamboo the Weaver,
Neebs the Saleswoman,
and
Tharbad the Violent
.
... and that was just a list of those with more than two visible irises! Surely there were more, but Gawp's mental list of names and faces was incomplete.

Hopefully it would never come to uncontrollable Wendigos in the ranks, but if it did, it would help to know who Gawp needed to keep his eye(s) on, for the sake of the Horde.

The pervasive seeds of paranoia against those with Monsterism have been sown within the Unexpectables' ranks - Gawp fervently hoped that the tensions of war wouldn't cause those seeds to bloom...

~ ~ ~

When Gawp woke in his tent the next morning, he felt an extra jingle in his coinpurse he hadn't expected to find. Had someone slipped him an extra two Glory points overnight? Whoever it was, had they done this out of fear or respect for his Monsterism? Gawp could only imagine. He may be Perceptive, but he wasn't exactly a mind-reader when it came to selfless acts of charity like this.

He immediately wondered if it was possible to strike a deal with Magda. If the High Nailsmith Magda didn't need Gawp's personal assistance, maybe she could be convinced to haggle on prices?

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 6, 2017 around 02:27

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (active)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 6 -> 7

March to Fostis: The Unexpectables were Fostis-bound!

Gawp was taking a big bite from his hunk of Töan Combat Bread when the familiar scents of unearthed dirt, coal, sulfur, and smelted metals reached his nostrils, borne by some northbound wind. For a moment, Gawp had lost all track of where he was - he could've sworn he was nearing the old mining town he once called home. Grishög, it was called, but that old place didn't matter any more. Grishög was all the way on the other side of the northern mountain range, far beyond the Tö and Frö border. How deep into enemy territory had Gawp gotten himself, anyway? As he chewed through the savory chunks of baked tubers and grain, Gawp felt a welling of liquid in his uppermost eye. Undoubtedly this was from a pang of homesickness, and not at all to be confused with a stray fleck of fear-dirt. Gawp blinked the stray thoughts away.

Despite the distance, Gawp's old life in Grishög didn't seem so far away after all - not now that they were on the outskirts of Fostis!

Fostis was Gawp's here and now, and that was all that mattered. Gawp got a little giddy at the prospect of prospecting for a brand new mining town. Where would the veins be located? How deep did the mines go? How much Iron and Copper would they find, and how much Orichalcum, Sonior and Regentrock could a single Töan carry? Gawp had never encountered the stuff himself, and now he was undeniably curious about their metallurgical properties. Gawp also wondered what the miners in Fostis would be like. Were they well-treated? He'd heard that the Frömen at Fostis used Töan slaves as miners, but Gawp had always thought that that was merely a tall tale that Töan parents told their children to scare them into behaving...

Gawp was suddenly reminded of the cutting and booming voice of Magda, when she spoke directly to him:

Dog Kisser posted:

“Now stop wasting your time (and worse, MY time), and go pack, or I’ll show you first-hand what a Corrupt Ritual looks like!”
He shuddered at the thought. Right.

First things came first: Gawp needs to lend his eyes, ears, body and soul to the horde to scout out the mountains with the others!

"Mountains! I know mountains." Gawp declared. "I'm no expert in climbing but I've done my fair share." He added further, a little hesitant, "Also I can spot things from really far away. I should be useful on a scouting party!"

Scout the High Mountains: 1d100+15 90

Gawp noted that the Mathematician was in his party, too, with his shiny metal shield and all. Gawp could plainly see that Pythag had a good head on his shoulders, and so Gawp followed the stoic Tö's leadership as they searched the mountains together. In particular, they were supposed to be on the lookout for any back-passages or tunnels that the villagers might use to escape.

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 01:46

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


^^^ Hey - since you can't join the Avalanche-starting crew (that team's already full), what do you want your action to count as:

A) Scout The Foothills
B) Just Get Rowdy And Break Stuff
C) Something Else

???

Also, Blasphemaster, I hate to be a stickler like this but you've posted a total of 6 times in the thread thus far, so even with the extra Glory points that've been handed out sporadically I'm not quite sure how you could have 8 Glory points by now...

E: I just did the math.
if you've participated in every round since this game started, you should have earned 7 Glory points total by the end of this round.

Thus far, the rounds have been: 1.[Unmanned Gate] -> 2.[Stick Ogres] -> 3.[Downtime 1 ] + [ Caravan attack teams] -> 4.[Caravan/Loot] -> 5.[Downtime 2 & Fostis vote] -> 6.[Fostis attack teams].

Cornbread has been there since the start, so he should have 6 glory at the end of this turn. Please do correct me if I've made a mistake somewhere.

((Edited to reflect the number is actually 7, not 6 ))

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 6, 2017 around 02:29

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

CourValant posted:

There was a round where the top 6 rollers got an extra +1 Glory, Bamboo being one of them.

DK also granted someone an extra +1 Glory due to a story post.

Those are all well and good. I tried to keep those in mind when I was doing the tallying:

Noggins (who got a bonus Glory when she won her sword) has saved up 7 Glory right now.
Qwäg, (who got a bonus 2 glory for their artwork) holds 4 Glory and spent 4 on Rituals.
Gawp, (who got a bonus 2 glory for their artwork) holds 6 Glory and missed the first 2 rounds.

I guess what I'm getting at is that no one has 8 Glory - not yet!

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

CourValant posted:

Sounds good.

As a check, is my (Bamboo's) Glory correct? Currently at 6, going in to 7 next round.

Looks correct to me! I should have used your character as a metric - Bamboo's Glory-accounting is rather meticulous!

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Here are the current team sizes for approaching Fostis:

  • Blend In - [Difficulty 7]
    [7/7 soldiers, FULL]
  • Cause An Avalanche - [Difficulty 1+++]
    [1/1 soldiers, FULL]
  • Find Someone Important And Kill Them - [Difficulty 1+++++ Deadly]
    [1/1 soldiers, FULL]
  • Scout The Foothills - Difficulty 10+ Threat 10
    1/10 soldiers
  • Scout Up Higher - Difficulty 5++ Threat 2 Damage 2
    6/5 soldiers
  • Recruit Them - [Difficulty 30++]
    [7/30 soldiers]
  • Just Walk Into Town - Difficulty 50
    1/50 soldiers
  • Just Get Rowdy And Break Stuff - Difficulty 100 Threat 10
    2/100 soldiers
  • Something Else
    Noggins - swell army ranks with sticks
    Cornbread - rube shitberg machine

This info accounts only for the 28/99 hordemembers who posted before this.

Reminder: assume the horde's mooks will join your bandwagon if there's room.

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 3, 2017 around 11:48

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Gawp, Hat, Patsy, Pythag, Mason, Hob, and Flitter are....

Team Cliffhanger~!

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (cooling)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 7 -> 8

Fyndberg Mountain Range: High above the town of Fostis, Gawp leaned on his small wooden spear and took a deep breath. His nerves calmed only the slightest as he watched the hot steam of his breath escape into the chill air. From where he stood, Gawp could just make out the summit of the mighty mountain that loomed over Fostis, wreathed as it was in a swirl of clouds and mist. The views were so beautiful from up here - if only it was possible to enjoy them. Gawp tried to ignore the sounds of riotous commotion echoing from far down below, but he found the task nearly impossible. If the alarm bells ringing from the mining town were any indication, things weren't exactly going according to plan.

Gawp fidgeted nervously as his other teammates set off to work. He simply watched, incredulous, as the other members of his scouting party hoisted the stalwart Mason off his feet and launched him toward the door of the locked storeroom, ramming his helmeted head against the heavy wooden slab. Gawp gritted his teeth with every *CRACK* and *THUD* they made, expecting the worst of outcomes for the simple Töman. They should have waited for Ringo the Lockpick to arrive, but as far as Gawp could tell, the crippled rogue was still climbing his way up to their position. The door's hinges started to rock and buckle under the team's redoubled efforts. Soon they would be inside the miners' explosives cache, and then they would have all the firepower they'll need to take over this wonderful little town!

When the hinges on the door finally busted and gave way, Gawp was one of the first Töans inside the storeroom. "Stand back, everyone! I know what this is: this stuff is highly, uh, "voll-uh-tile!"... that means it could go off at any moment and kill us all if we're not extremely careful!"

Gawp explained to the other mooks, "If we're going to threaten the town properly, we need to carry these crates of explosives further down the mountain path. Do what I do - and do it VERY CAREFULLY - as if you're walking on eggshells!"

Gawp gingerly hoisted a small crate packed with sawdust and dynamite, deliberately showing the others how delicate and careful he was being.

Guiding Mooks with Crates of Explosives: 1d100+6 51

Paired off two-by-two, Gawp began directing the other Töans as they slowly made their way down the mountain path.

~ ~ ~

When Gawp returned to the storehouse for a second batch of explosives, he noticed that the dull-witted Cornbread was milling about just outside the supply shed with a foolishly fiendish grin plastered on his face. Gawp remembered what the rowdy Töan liked to do: he liked to raise hell by throwing stuff.

In that moment, Gawp knew - from the bottom of his heart - that Cornbread was probably going to steal some dynamite and throw it downhill, no matter what Gawp said. So Gawp lead the giant Töan to the cliff's edge and pointed at a spot on the mountains, further down and far, far away from everyone else.

If a rock slide or avalanche were to start there, it would likely cause a rockfall that would block the main entrance to the mining village...

Gawp pointed to the spot dramatically and told the other Töan, "If you're gonna do it, light the fuse and chuck it in that direction with all your might."

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 01:47

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

E:^^^^ thank you Cornbread

Just take one look at Gawp's sweet, darling face and tell him that he doesn't deserve to live. Just try:

You can't. You just can't.

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 5, 2017 around 13:04

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Gloff Bully

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

^^^Thank you, Blasphemaster!

Here are the current team tallies:

Mountainside [22 Soldiers]
  • Sort Out That Locked Door! - Difficulty 2
    4/2 soldiers *DOOR OPENED*
  • Threaten The Town! - Difficulty 10 (req: Open Door)
    4/10 soldiers
  • Blow EVERYTHING! - Difficulty 10++++ Threat 9 Danger 2 (req: Open Door)
    0/10 soldiers
In Town [68 Soldiers + 10 Recruits]
  • Fight Back - Difficulty 50++ Threat 10
    1/50 soldiers
  • Kill The Mayor - [Difficulty 10+ Threat 10 Danger 2]
    [4/10 soldiers]
  • Give Up - Difficulty 0 Threat 100
    0 soldiers
  • Redirect The Mob - Difficulty 40
    6/40 soldiers
  • Search The Mine - [Difficulty 5+++ Threat 5]
    [4/5 soldiers]
In Jail [3 Soldiers + 1 Recruit]
  • Break Out of Jail - Difficulty ???
    [2/4 soldiers]
Stick Ogre Goofballs [5 Soldiers]
  • Ambush! - [Difficulty 5 Threat 5]
    [1/5 soldiers]

Other notes:
CourValant/Bamboo, you forgot to post your roll for your plan to Kill the Mayor.
Barbed Tongues/Pythag, there was an error in your favor and you actually weren't injured!

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 5, 2017 around 23:05

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (cooling)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 8 -> 9 (Pythag gift)

Fyndberg Mountain Range, part 2: Gawp stood by the entrance to the supply shed, absentmindedly nodding with critical approval as another pair of mooks slowly shuffled out the broken doorway bearing a load of explosive materiel between them. Gawp reeled at the amount of dynamite and blasting powder he was seeing here. How many of these crates had they brought down by now, and how much "boom" was there per box?

Gawp was silently counting to himself, mouthing out his numbers, when a familiar figure limped in Gawp's direction. One look into the Töan's staggeringly-mellow face and Gawp was immediately relieved. Pythag~! He had gotten separated from the mountaineering team when that snow-covered cliffside collapsed.

He saw the way Pythag was leaning on his spear like a crutch. Gawp had seen the Töan's fall - both Agile the Acrobat and Ringo were similarly wounded in the same mishap - Gawp had seen it all with his own four eyes. He was surprised the others could walk and climb at all, given how far they'd tumbled into those snowy depths...

Pythag posted:

"Sir, reporting for duty, sir."

"You look like you have a good eye for, er.. four eyes for, urm. I'm making you my squad leader, Gawp."

Give 1 Glory to Gawp (if allowed).

"So, where do you want me? I'd prefer not to handle explosives until I'm healed up."

Gawp simply stared at the other Töan, incredulous. "S-Sir?" he stammered, unfazed by the errant eye comment. "I don't know anything about 'Sirs,' sir, I'm just trying to make it out of this alive!"

Gawp's eyes snapped to a spot over Pythag's shoulder. He bellowed, "Watch out for that patch of ice!" at the two mooks as they engaged in a murderously tense moment of slip-n-slide before they righted themselves. "Ingrates... Anyway-"

"You bring up a good point Pythag, really. If you can't trust yourself to carry the explosives down with the others then we could use some help in other areas... how good are you at throwing?"

Pythag raised an eyebrow. "Nevermind-" Gawp shot out, as the fiery glint of chaos departed from his eyes.

"We're going to threaten the town with their own explosives, but I don't know how much of the blasted blasting stuff we have."

"Pythag, friend, I need you to count the crates, count the sticks of stuff inside (carefully!), and count the barrels of powder we've got, and from those numbers you can give us an idea of just how much of this town we can blow to smithereens."

"Use your math to help us threaten the town with pinpoint accuracy."

Gawp didn't tell Pythag how important this number would be for the future of General Grimper's campaign.

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 01:47

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

The Goofball's Gambit:



'Witness me, Grimper.'

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (Active)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 9 -> 10

The Hills Above Fostis: As soon as Grimper stopped talking, some mook excitedly dropped an armload of whatever he was doing and sprinted past Gawp muttering something about how "all the drinks are on the house," but as far as Gawp could see, there wasn't a single roof with a cup or bottle sitting out...

Gawp was climbing back up the winding stepstone paths that lead to the explosive supply shed. One last time, Gawp promised himself. He paused in his ascent to lean against the wall for a moment.

Gawp lightly slapped two sweaty palms over his four-eyed forehead and rubbed at his many temples before pushing four sets of eyelids downward in a slow movement of exhausted resignation. After all his hard work keeping everything prim and proper among the ranks of the fire-keepers, the bomb-ferriers, and the bombadiers, Gawp realized that it had been that beast of a Töan "CORNBREAD" who had utterly stolen the show. Gawp would admit: the giant odoriferous Töman had an amazing throwing arm and a uniquely intimidating... presence. You could smell him and the results of his foul work everywhere - despite all the smoke, the bombpowder, the saltpeter and the sulfur... Gawp grimaced at the heavily tainted fragrance that seemed to permeate rock itself, not to mention his clothes, his nostrils, and all the way into his deepest thinking parts... On second thought, Fostis had turned out to be a lovely little mining town - not like home after all! Oh well-! Gawp continued on his way uphill, taking the climb step by step.

A victory was a victory! Fostis was a solid foothold in the foothills for Grimper's great cause, and that was all that mattered to the four-eyed Töan.

Gawp searched his pockets and drew out a small scrip of paper the Mathematician had given him with some big numbers scrawled on them: "Pythag's Big Boom Numbers," Gawp considered them. This little ticket would get him in good with the General Grimper, he was sure. If not, what he hoped to find at the top of this final hike certainly would!

After all, Gawp wasn't making the long ascent back up to the Explosive Supply Shed for no good reason. He'd seen something in there, earlier. Something that could be just as important to Grimper as Pythag's Big Boom Numbers are. Charts and plans and diagrams amid all the explosives crates, he'd seen. Maybe maps, maybe blueprints? Certainly there was bound to be something good for him still up there...

When Gawp reached the supply shed, he checked all the usual spots, and even a couple of unusual ones thanks to his advanced Perception:

Looting the Mountain Supply Shed: 1d100+10 93

On his way back down, Gawp finally got to enjoy the views over Fostis as the sun began setting. Gawp wondered if he'd still have time to join up with his hordemates in the town's drinking establishments later. After all, a pub or a tavern's practically the only place where you'll find anything clean to drink in a mining town like this, and Gawp had gotten mighty thirsty from all this hiking and hauling and hefting and hucking of explosives in this acrid mountain air. Besides, Gawp had heard that at times like these, it was best to get to the bars early before things got too rowdy and Grimper had to shut things down...

As Gawp broke into a downhill jog to rejoin his hordemates, he recalled how the great General Grimper had actually shared from his own personal booze supply with them the other night. He was warmed by the memory, and he picked up the pace. He hoped the General would appreciate this Töan's unerring commitment to duty.

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 01:48

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (cooling)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 10

The Hills Above Fostis (part 2):
On his way down the mountain path, Gawp prepared himself for the possibility that he wasn't going to find anything useful in the town of Fostis for himself. What a pity! He'd hoped that a stiff drink would sate his thirst and ease his strained leg muscles. Fostis was still a bit further down the trail from him, and dusk was already settling in.

To pass the time, Gawp had been keeping one eye on the trail while the rest scanned the streets of the town below. He was trying to see where other members of the Unexpectables had gotten off to.

By his incomplete tally, Gawp made a mental list of all the Töans he could still recognize in the dimming light:
  • Mountain Supply Shed: 5 soldiers were just up there (including himself)
  • Mayor's Offices: 4+ soldiers were still gathered around the dead mayor's offices in a crowd of skillcore seekers.
  • Miners' Guildhall: 3+ soldiers were last seen heading off towards the miners' guildhall together.
  • Craftsmans' District: 5+ soldiers are currently trying to ransack the general store and village armorer.
  • The Mines: As far as Gawp could tell, only 1 soldier he'd seen wander off into the mines...
  • Patrol: Gawp could see that there was a Töan patrol in the streets, but at this point in the darkening light he could only make out 1 familiar face...
Gawp licked at his chapped lips in the crisp mountain air and wondered when he'd get to wet his whistle.

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 01:48

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (Active)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 10 -> 11

Fostis, After-Hours: When it came time for Gawp to divvy up camp duties for himself and the other mooks under his shaky grip of command, Gawp realized that he had an important choice to make. Once everyone else had been sorted out, what was he going to do with all his free time? What would best serve the Unexpectables?

He reviewed his options:

Gawp saw that there was a Guard Patrol that had begun fanning out among the campgrounds and recruiting posse members, and Gawp realized that his advanced monsterism eyesight might best be put to use watching for enemies in these dark hours. Sensibly, some of the locals at Fostis might still be rather unhappy about their current state of occupation, and so they could be planning an ambush...? It was best to be prepared, anyway!

Next, Gawp looked to the tents of the Field Medics, and saw that they were busy bandaging the wounded and strapping splints onto injured legs. They weren't necessarily swamped as far as Gawp could tell, but surely they could use another pair of hands and two pairs of eyes on deck! Heck, Gawp had realized that it had been far too long since he'd gone over his remedial first aid training... plus, the extra help couldn't hurt (too much)!

Third, Gawp turned to the groups of Foragers, who were heading off into the town's foothills to find fresh food like berries, mushrooms, livestock and meat. On his mountainous climb, Gawp had seen a couple of mountain goats frolicking along the cliffs, and oh my did they look ever so majestic and mighty - mighty tasty! Gawp didn't have a bow and arrow to hunt with and he was terrible with traps... but maybe Gawp could serve as the team's spotter?

Finally, Gawp remembered something - a fourth thing! He reached into his pocket and retrieved the folded, tattered page of charts and figures which Pythag the Mathematician had given him earlier: "Pythag's Big Boom Numbers." Supposedly, this page contained a fairly accurate tally of all the explosives the Unexpectables had available to them. Gawp considered the big, underlined numbers at the bottom of the page. It was important for the army. He knew that this was his one-way ticket to getting in good with the Boss, General Grimper, but his timing in the matter would have to be perfect if he didn't want to get on the General's bad side...

What to do? Choosing an option for himself became too maddening for Gawp, so he flipped a coin-token two times and followed the end result. Both times, it was Queen Reina's lovely face that came up (may she rest in our vengeance):

1 = Approach Grimper, 2 = Join Foragers, 3 = Join Medics, 4 = Join Guard Patrol: 1d4 1

Deep down, Gawp knew that helping out the General was the right thing to do.

Steeling himself for a face-to-face encounter with the Big Boss himself, Gawp hovered at a spot within eyeshot and earshot of the General Grimper's war-tent, waiting to Perceive the best possible time to interrupt the great General in his business.

Approach General Grimper with Pythag's Big Boom Numbers: 1d100+20 76

When the General Grimper stepped outside of his giant commander's tent, Gawp approached him, haltingly, and belted out, "Sire, Mister Big Boss Grimper, General, SIR-!"

He snapped a salute a bit too hard and poked himself in the uppermost eye. He could feel that one's gonna sting and water-!

"Sir! I- I know how much boom-powder and bamsticks we've got - it's all here on this slip of paper. They're Pythag's Big Boom Numbers, sire. For you, mister General - sir!"

Gawp offered up the piece of parchment to the General on one knee, closing his eyes and craning his neck as though he were handing over his life.

When Gawp snuck a glance at the General with his teary and bloodshot uppermost eye, this is all he saw:



Huh. There was a certain shimmer about the General tonight. Was that from the Ritual of the Nail? Gawp had seen it with his own eyes, but maybe the General would want to share more about what just happened to the Fostisians.

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 01:49

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

I think the lowest roll by an active player character in the second Fostis round was Mason - and we all know how that turned out!


Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (Cooling)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 11 -> 3

Fostis, After-Hours (part 2): Moments after the General had swept out of the bar, Gawp sat back in his barstool and belched. Gawp had been lapping hungrily at the froth from the bottom of his mug, and now he was feeling quite full. After a heady cup or three of this delicious Fostisian Mountain Ale, Gawp was already feeling incredibly light-headed. Maybe it was the altitude, maybe it was the silty, hoppy flavor that reminded him of his childhood growing up in the mining hills... in truth, Gawp was still reeling from his terrifying encounter with the great General Grimper.

He felt like he could use another drink, but by the time he got to the front of the line the taps had already been drained. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, at least!

On his way back to his tent Gawp moseyed by Magda's shop, making sure to glance at the Iron Ingot that the Nailsmith kept her Glory tallies on. One of their Rituals was only eight tokens away...

What would be best for the horde?
What would Grimper want?

He places eight precious Glory tokens in the slot of the receptacle marked Harvester's Grim Duty and walks off, too drunk from his selfless act of charity to notice that the Quartermaster had just taken up a stock of Gawp's new most favorite beer.

Harvester's Grim Duty: 50/50

E: there was a miscount vvv

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 01:48

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

CourValant posted:

What's the exact count? Are we at 48, or did Prince of Space bump it up to 50?

In the last downtime, 28 Glory was spent total among the horde. Two people purchased items (at 5 Glory each), however, so only 18 Glory was actually put toward the Harvester's Grim Duty (rather than 23 or 28 like it was previously thought).

This round (thus far), 8 Glory has gone to Luck's Fickle Gaze, and 32 went to the Harvester's Grim Duty. 18+32=50 ~!


(Look, Gawp really wants to make sure that there's no Corrupt Ritual.)

The next time you're looting a Skillcore for yourself, think about all the soldiers with less Glory than you that made all this possible!

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 13, 2017 around 20:48

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Mithross posted:

i won't make that mistake again! I will make that mistake again

I should have clarified and told somebody what the original numbers hiccup was rather than just blindly slapping down coins on the table and saying "the bill's been paid!"

CourValant posted:

Yes, which was was why I asked; if we were missing 2, I was going to top off the buy.

Thank you for your service but the deed is already done.

HOWEVER, if you're really feeling generous:

Dog Kisser posted:

Downtime
In between fights, and particularly after victories, the Horde will take downtime. During this period, Glory can be exchanged, healing and repairs can be performed, and punishments carried out.

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 13, 2017 around 08:43

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

The Lord of Hats posted:

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...

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (Cooling)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 3

Fostis, After-Hours (part 3): Despite the deep ache of his legs and the warm bubbly beer still settling in his belly, Gawp was having a hard time getting much sleep. He was tossing and turning in his pup-tent, tormented by strange dreams where he revisited vivid scenes of the day's carnage and bloodshed.

In Gawp's dreams, he was in the town square with the others, watching the face-off against the Mayor and his men. The mayor took a hit square to the jaw and went down and the others followed soon after in the chaos. Grimper appeared to call the fight for the Unexpectables and then suddenly Töans were scrambling everywhere!

In this dream, Gawp looked down and saw that he was no longer Gawp - he was a very important doctor person - a surgeon even! He was performing post-mortem surgery upon the corpse of a fallen comrade using a dull flint knife - one has to be careful, after all, there are precious Skillcores inside! Bonegineering in particular was a rare and infinitely useful skillset in the hands of a capable doctor, to be sure.

As Gawp / Doc worked a cutting tool over the dead tissues of Graxon, there came a sound of barbaric Yelling, distant at first but growing increasingly in volume as though it were coming directly their way. There was no avoiding it; there was no ignoring it. It was primal and fearsome and dangerous, and it was coming from the giant Töan named Cornbread.

Dream-Doc froze in instinctive terror when the figure appeared, yelling his own name with excessive volume. Cornbread stove in Graxon's chest with a sharp rock and drove his huge and messy fist deep inside the cavity of the dead Bonegineer, rummaging around and plucking the Skillcore out like it was nothing but overripe fruit. The Skillcore was Cornbread's now. There was no fighting it.

Blasphemaster posted:

Coooorrrrrnnnnnbrrrrrrreeeeeaaaaad!
Gawp snapped awake. He could still hear the crazed Töan yelling out his own name, again and again...

Echoes of the dreamworld... Gawp thought he was going mad, that he must be experiencing symptoms of Rampant Monsterism, so he started making plans to run into the hills when he glanced outside his pup-tent. Sure enough, this is what he saw across the way:



Hours passed, and Cornbread was still going at it. What could he possibly want?

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 01:49

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Another moment from the past:

DivineCoffeeBinge posted:

In the end, Shiny cannot refuse this gift. She's just not built for it. But what she can do is provide a gift of her own, and you know what isn't shiny? Flowers aren't shiny. So she scurries up to the Quartermaster, humbly requesting to purchase some provisions - namely, some Cowardclaw. This will be discreetly stuffed into Humbug's pack at some point during the night.


Shiny Humbug

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 16, 2017 around 08:52

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Blasphemaster posted:

...poo poo I posted a bit late.

So can we roll with that as Cornbread being a crazy bastard who doesn't pay attention or something?

DogKisser still has a couple more things he wants to add to the latest update...

I think you might be safe adding a Glory to your tally for trying to do something during downtime (even if nothing else comes of it other than flavor). Then you should certainly make a new action at 9 Glory based upon what's in DogKisser's latest update.

e: I hope you liked your drawin'

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 17, 2017 around 05:31

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (active)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 3 -> 4

Horde Vote: Take SOME Rations. Let's see what foodstuffs we can take from the intercepted shipments before we starve the people who mine our iron supplies.

Warlord Grimper's Encampment, Fostis: Gawp heard the day's assignments and he was utterly flabbergasted; heartbroken all at once. Gigs the Unflappable gets to lead a team all on his own? Him? How?

Gawp just couldn't see it happening, refused to believe it. After all, it was Gawp who made sure no one got exploded messily yesterday, it was Gawp who discovered the Makeshift Sacrifire Recipe using his eyes, tongue and nose, and it was Gawp who brought the great General Grimper the Mathematician Pythag's Big Boom Numbers! It was - quite obviously - Gawp who deserved to be in charge of the team of miners who were setting off to make dig-science history!

How often do you find a buried relic of the Old Guys like this, anyway?! Seven hells laughing, everyone back in Grishög knows about the Old Guys! Gawp'd be the hero of his hometown for sure, if only he could claim the dig as his own, then he could... he would...

It just wasn't fair. If Gawp was in charge of the dig then he could then call DIBS on whatever he wanted for once. He sighed and took stock of his meager belongings. Gawp had in his possession... a half-finished loaf of Töan Combat Bread, a pair of frayed footwraps, a pair of shorts held up by a cord, a kinda long sharp stick, a pocketful of rocks, his underwear and eleven... no, wait, that's only three(?!) glory tokens?!?! Ugh...

Gawp shook a hazily-registered memory from his hungover state and found that his right hand had instinctively wandered up to the new Nail that was embedded in his left shoulder. Ah, that's right: the Ritual called Harvester's Grim Duty had been performed - and with great success, too! Gawp flexed the arm experimentally. All seemed good to go for Gawp! Metals are Magic, Gawp reasoned.

All the same, Gawp felt a little disgusted by his newfound memories if he thought about them too long or too hard. First off, he was ashamed that he'd spent eight Glory tokens in a single night due to his drunken generosity, and then again he was further horrified by the vivid lessons in Töan vivisection he'd been given with the rest of the Horde through the magic of the Ritual.

All Gawp could feel at the time was disgust. Disgust with himself. Disgust with others, with the nature of war. Disgust that he couldn't seem to please Grimper or Madga in the slightest. Gawp didn't want to disappoint his family by avoiding the mines altogether, but at the same time he was in a bit of a mood about being passed over for the mission's leadership.

So Gawp did what he always did when he felt like being alone with his thoughts: he walked away from the sleepy mining town full of dullards and blowhards and traveled into the forested foothills to see what kind of danger adventure he could find. Sometimes (if he brought the right weapons and tools) he could find something tasty to kill and bring back home!

Gawp set off for the forests, using his sharp stick as a walking aid. In one pocket he held his throwin' rocks, and in the other pocket he kept the rest of his Töan Combat Bread just in case he needed some bait. Gawp put his Perceptions on high alert, taking in the sights, sounds, sensations and smells of the forest, searching for fauna to admire and possibly kill for meat.

If some other Töans wanted to join him on the scouting party, he wasn't going to stop them. More than anything Gawp just needed to get some fresh air.

Scouting Around Fostis: Investigate the Wilderness: 1d100+13 63

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 01:44

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (active)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 4 -> 5 (downtime teamwork bonus)
Ritual Chits: 7 (artwork bonus)

Morrskag Forest, Fostis: Gawp hadn't wandered very far into the wilderness by himself before a cadre of other Unexpectables had caught up with him and made party. Gawp noted that they all shared a similar lean and hungry look to their eyes: hunters and carnivores, all. Good, that meant that they might get to enjoy some fresh meat tonight!

Gawp relaxed a little bit. The stark beauty of the forest and the unexpected addition of companionship had soothed his frazzled nerves some. There was just one thing about Gawp's new group that set off distant warning bells in the Töan's mind:

In particular, Gawp was put off by the sight of an eerily familiar face, Doc the Surgeon.

He froze when he saw her, caught between a salute and a bow. He then shook her hand vigorously during the rounds of introductions.

"I just had a dream with you in it..." Gawp muttered, before he thought twice about how he must sound. "Only I was you but then there was Cornbread, see, and he was yelling and screaming and I just wasn't fast enough..."

From the way the Töwoman looked at him Gawp could tell Doc must surely think he was going mad. "I'm sorry," Gawp explained, "I didn't get much sleep last night."

Echoes of the dreamworld. Surely, a portentous omen - one best left un-shared. Gawp steeled his nerves for something bad and gripped his sharpened staff even tighter. He didn't want to let the others know he was afraid.

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 18, 2017 around 15:12

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Current counts:
Uncover Old Guys Relic: 6 Soldiers (+ Gigs) = 7; 1 slot left!
Scout Nägel: 7 Soldiers
Scout Noostra: 0 Soldiers
Investigate Mines: 2 Soldiers
Investigate Wilds: 2 Soldiers
Intercept Shipment: 3 Soldiers

Reminder: Unless otherwise noted by DK Skills recharge both before and after Downtime!

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Dog Kisser posted:

Stårn literally vibrated with excitement when it was finished. He hauled the enormous thing away on his back, laughing hard enough to fleck his chest with spittle as he imagined bearing down on an unsuspecting door with the weight of a mountain. Crash! Bang! Aaaaaaah! Such lovely dreams would become reality the very first instant he thought he could get away with it.



Stårn Terrible Ram

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (cooling)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 5 -> 6
Ritual Chits: 8 -> 9 (artwork bonus)

Morrskag Forest, Fostis (part 2): Gawp cursed under his breath. He had been so close to befriending that first slinker, too, when some errant movement from one of the others must've caught its eye and made it panic. Gawp's four eyes rolled in their sockets as he stalked through the forest, his bag at the ready for the first sign of movement. When their chase of the slinkers had begun, Gawp had dumped out all the fruit he'd been collecting on their way there. Now his sack was empty and it was waiting to be filled with the wild chittering things. Slinkers! He silently cursed again - He'd been so close!

Nearby, a couple of joyous exclamations rang out among the trees, and Gawp navigated through the brush in their direction. Gawp wanted to stick close to his group before they fanned out too far, and clearly some of the other Töans were having success at catching the squirrelly monsters. Gawp knew that if he stuck close by to the others in his team he might get a couple pointers on how to grab the little biters and stuff them in a sack - all without letting the others escape or claw too much. At the very least, Gawp could help out the more seasoned trappers by carrying their sacks for them? There were possibilities!

Gawp hadn't gotten very far into his options for servantship before he chanced to happen upon a slinker with four-eyes, standing alert and very still atop an outcropping of bare rock. Huh. They locked eyes. Gawp blinked and the four-eyed slinker blinked right back in return, its eyes winking in the same order. It was... shockingly cute! Gawp gaped in amazement of the thing. It looked a little like this:



Gawp immediately felt a special kinship with the four-eyed slinker, and he wanted very much to be its friend.

The moment, however, was quickly ruined when Gawp shifted ever so slightly to grab for the rind of Töan Combat Bread he'd kept in his back pocket for just such an occasion. The monsterist slinker snapped out of its reverie and leaped off the rock at a wild angle. Gawp was shattered. Thinking only upon the stings of abandonment Gawp gave chase, scrambling into a sprint.

"You. will. be. my. friend!" Gawp uttered between breaths, his bag whipping in his hand.

As Gawp bore down on the slinker, he watched it as its four eyes swiveled wildly in their sockets, seeking an apparent escape. Suddenly, just before the bag came down over its head, the creature's eyes snapped, each locked onto the same destination. The slinker shot off like a bolt from a crossbow as it joined up with a slew of other strangely deformed slinkers - all heading in the same direction together! How curious!

Gawp didn't know if this was odd behavior or not, but he knew that there was a trick to herding animals that stuck to groups. Before he could get too far separated, Gawp shouted back to the others.

"Pythag, Doc, Bully - quick! The monsterist ones- they're acting like a herd! Follow me, follow my voice! We can round them all up!"

Chasing after the Monsterist Slinkers: 1d100+5 76

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 20, 2017 around 04:11

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Added art to my last post:

Gawp Slinker

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

CourValant posted:

Paging PrinceOfSpace; this one is all you buddy.

Please express the Cluster Eff that is The Unexpectables in banner form?

To be honest, I was thinking of taking a backseat on this one-

It's not that I don't want to design something fun this weekend, it's just that I wouldn't want to discourage other people from also sharing their banner ideas!

Furthermore, Gawp may have keen eyesight but he's terrible at sewing.

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

CourValant posted:

Well, someone put a banner together showing this Cluster of a Horde then.

Behold! Some Flags and Banners! (presented in the order I made them):

1. 10-Nail-Eye Banner


2. Grimper/Reina Crowns Vs the Red Menace Flag


3. Gold Bordered 100-Dot Nail-Eye Flag


4. "The Unexpect - Ables" Banner


5. "The Unexpectable Horde" 100-Patch Quilt Banner

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Dog Kisser posted:

Gado the Digger was in his element, here, tearing through the stone in half the time it took the others. His chest burned with pride as he drove a pick through the- it was really burning, yeah. Oof, maybe that wasn’t pride, actually. He hit the stone once again, then slumped to his knees, gasping and clutching at his heart. The Nail in his shoulder felt red-hot, too, and between the two of them he couldn’t focus. His eyes blurred and he felt something click and grind inside his chest, like stones abrading against one another. He rose again, pink smoke pouring from his mouth, and hit the wall a final time. It fell, and so did he.

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

One last flag (because hey, why not?):

6. The "Expect Nothing" Flag

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

For reference, here are the current tallies for this round:

Scouting the Mines:
Free Fostisian Alliance Difficulty 15 - Threat 5
2/13 Soldiers have acted:
Attack/Defend - 2 Soldiers

Scouting Morrskag Forest:
Monsterist Slinkers Difficulty 10 - Threat 1-Infection
4/14 Soldiers have acted:
Follow Them! - [3/5 Soldiers]
Catch them all! - 1/10 Soldiers

Intercepting Shipments:
Caravan - Difficulty 30 - Threat 20
4/34 Soldiers have acted:
Ask Some Questions - 2/1 Soldiers
Say Thanks and Leave - 1/1 Soldiers
Conduct Repairs in Lieu of Bribe - 1/? Soldiers

Investigating Old Guys Relic:
Old Guys Relic - Difficulty ? - Threat ?
6/8 Soldiers have acted:
Push Buttons - [0/1 Soldiers]
Push Buttons Differently - [0/1 Soldiers]
Jam Something in the Hole - [1/2 Soldiers]
Force the Door Open - [1/4 Soldiers]
Blast Your Way In - [0/1 Soldiers]
Leave - 0/1 Soldiers
Take Notes THEN Leave - 2/4 Soldiers
Do Whatever Gigs Tells Them - 2/? Soldiers

Scouting Nägel:
Nägel Prison Defenses - Difficulty 50 Threat 50
5/41 Soldiers have acted
A Better Idea: Midnight Ramming Ambushes - 5/? Soldiers


*Note*: If you were absent for the last round and are just catching up, you may not know where your character is supposed to be! For cases like these, DogKisser has ruled in the past that you can put your character into any group with mooks in it (so that includes all the current teams except for the one at the Old Guys Relic). If you want to know where DK auto-sorted you please speak up or join the Discord!

Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum

Töan National Flag: L

Unexpectables Flag: C

Prince of Space fucked around with this message at Oct 23, 2017 around 14:56

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Prince of Space
Apr 17, 2016

Went Full Retard, killed 14 dudes. Pride of the 69th Awful Company. R.I.P.

Dinosaur Gum


Name: Gawp
HP: 3
Skill: Perception (cooling)
Equipment: Sharp Stick (+0)
Glory: 6
Ritual Chits: 9 -> 11 (artwork bonus)

Morrskag Forest, Fostis (part 3): Gawp had shouted to the others and the others had listened! What a glorious feeling - what a triumphant day!

Gawp was tromping through the forest at a breakneck pace, chasing after a coursing river of panicked slinkers as they darted and dove through the underbrush. Errant branches and reaching leaves whipped at his face and eyes, but Gawp didn't care. He was downright giddy.

Gawp burst through a thicket and half-stumbled into a small clearing just as several of the other Töans he'd called out to did the same: Bully, Doc, and two others whose names he'd forgotten. They'd all seen the monsterist slinkers' running off with their herd mentality (or was it a pack?), and now they were all in this together, giving chase to round them all up! Gawp flashed a toothy smile at the Töan who was keeping pace with him. This was exciting - he was leading a team!

"Where's Pythag? Where's... Patsy?" Gawp hollered to the Töans next to him, loud enough to be heard over the din of pounding hearts, hurried breaths, and the crackle of underbrush. He got a blasé shrug in return, and they resumed their chase of the slinkers in earnest. Whatever. Pythag'll just have to miss out this time. All that means is less people to share in the Glory of Gawp- that's for sure!

Gawp hadn't had this much fun in ages.

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