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Alehkhs
Oct 6, 2010

The Sorrow of Poets



1 Harm | 1 armor | Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 1 keep | XP ○○○○○» (1 Adv.)

I am certain now that we have somehow been bound to this place by this hag. The relentless cold, the unending darkness - is it a realm of her creation? And my crew - are they beyond hope? No, I must not give up on them. 'Twas my personal vendetta that lead us to this end.

"What have you done to my crew?!" I scream at the approaching witch, my voice fighting against the frigid wind howling before her approach.

Shrugging off the bedding so as to have full movement, I raise the iron poker above my shoulder. Swinging down to both strike the woman and deflect her path as she approaches, I command, "Release us!"

-----

Do single combat against the Witch (Hard): 2d6+2 7
You suffer little harm (-1 Harm)

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quiggy
Aug 7, 2010

[in Russian] Oof.






Drowned Tikorn

You bring down the iron poker with a fierce stabbing motion, digging deep into the woman's flesh. The moment the poker strikes her, however, you feel a blast of icy cold rush up the poker and through your arm, forcing you to drop your makeshift weapon as your arm screams in frostbitten pain. Nevertheless the woman recoils in pain, faces you and shouts.

"Very well! You wish to be released, then be released! But this curse I lay upon you: a day will come when your men rise against you. On that day, you will be faced with a choice, and if you choose wrong, you shall be forced to languish in this hell for all eternity. And you will know that I, the White Woman Thrumvejr, have had my revenge!"

Her threat complete, you watch as the woman's skin transforms to ice, and then your ears are pierced by the sound of her whole form shattering into millions of tiny ice shards. The moment that the ice shatters, two things happen simultaneously: you hear the storm outside abate, and you hear the sound of bodies hitting the ground behind you. Turning around, you see your crew here, in physical form, on the floor of the barn. They are barely breathing and unresponsive, but they are alive. Whether Thrumvejr lives or not, you do not know, but for now, you are safe.

You take 1-harm armor piercing from the frostbite that climbed up your arm after stabbing the woman.

We'll pick this up next session.

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

MY PAPER SOLDIERS
FORM A WALL
FIVE PACES THICK AND
TWICE AS TALL



0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot-2 Sharp+1 Weird+2 | 1-keep | XP ●●●○○

I ignore the state of the inn - I've certainly been in worse places before. I keep my eyes on the guard, sizing the man up. A fighter, to be sure, but hardly a great warrior. "Two who wish to be beyond the walls before first light," I reply.

quiggy
Aug 7, 2010

[in Russian] Oof.






Siroko

The man smiles, if you can call that facial contortion a "smile". His breath reeks of bad tobacco and rotting teeth. You watch as his hand slowly makes its way down to rest on the hilt of a long knife he carries on his hip, but he makes no motion to draw the weapon.

"Iunno how you's learned-a this place, but I ain't seen yer faces afore. You know the cost, yeah? Fleein' the lord with a whore on yer arm brings more trouble down on us, I don' care if'n you love 'er. You's gotta pay the price if'n we're to let ya pass. Blood or gold, yer choice, but make it quick."

He draws the knife from his waist and shows it to you. It's a surprisingly nice blade for a man so rough, primarily iron but inlaid with veins of silver, runes of some sort carved along the hilt, and the edge sharpened to a razor's thinness. He places the knife in one hand and displays it to you, palm open and upright, seemingly offering for you to take it. He extends his other hand, again palm open and upright, but empty this time.

What do you do?

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

MY PAPER SOLDIERS
FORM A WALL
FIVE PACES THICK AND
TWICE AS TALL



0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot-2 Sharp+1 Weird+2 | 1-keep | XP ●●●○○

Blood or gold - or steel, the payment he's forgotten. I consider it, but I wish to be quit of this place and cutting my way free here is not the quickest path. The blade is not worth consider - blood and magic in the mix promises unseen and unspoken obligations. So it's the empty palm I choose to fill this time, with the Lord of Entremar's gold.

quiggy
Aug 7, 2010

[in Russian] Oof.






Siroko

You are surprised at how much gold the man asks before he lets you pass--every coin the Lord Entremar left you, which was not an insignificant amount. With the last coin placed firmly in his palm, he turns around and motions for you to follow. Down a quiet hallway he comes upon a small trapdoor in the floor, which he opens up for you. "The path is 'ere, girls. Stay safe afield, and tell no one of this place."

You can feel a cool rush of outside air come up through the trapdoor, and dropping down, you see the low tunnel that leads out of the city. Ena leads the way, but you follow close behind, and soon you find yourselves standing outside of the walls, just as the sun begins to crest over the horizon.

We'll pick this up next session.

quiggy
Aug 7, 2010

[in Russian] Oof.




The Lady of Greycrag posted:

Perhaps the greatest mystery of all is who inhabited this land before we arrived. Has this land always been a purgatory of sorts, or did it become one somehow? Who built all these ruins we now inhabit, and why? Do these questions even have answers that we can comprehend, or are we doomed to languish in this world never understanding, never knowing, only continuing to eke out what miserable existence this is in fear of a worse place after it?

Session Two



Remember to pay your keep. If you have a move that triggers at the start of a session, it triggers now.

Drowned Tikorn

Several weeks have passed since the incident at the witch's hut. At the insistence of your crew, you have abandoned your quest for the city in the east for now, instead returning to the coastline to the west, to the settlement of Greycrag. When your band arrives, weary from the travels and on the verge of breaking, you find the worst possible news: the city is on lockdown, with guard patrols tripled at all hours and the gates not opening even for the most trusted of envoys. Outside the city, a number of travelers have erected a small temporary tent settlement to wait out the turmoil, although nobody knows how long that will be--or even why the city is locked down in the first place. There are rumors of course: an attempt on the Lady's life, rumblings of war to the south, or the mysterious disappearance of the lord of Broken Tooth, to name a few, but nothing solid.

As the realization sets in that it may be some time before your band is allowed to enter Greycrag, you begin hearing rumblings from your crew. While some are willing to wait here among the tents, others wish to make for the town of Broken Tooth to the south, still others want to try to either force or sneak their way in, and a few are too sickly from the trials you have faced to want anything more than a healer's bed. In addition, your wounds from the ill-fated journey to Rockreach still burn, and you fear that without treatment you may never properly heal from them. As the leader of the group, and as their savior from the witch-woman, the decision falls on you.

What do you do?

Mistral

For the past ten days, no one has entered or exited the town of Greycrag. Although the Lady trusts you very deeply, she has not made known why she closed the borders to you or to anyone else. In the meantime, there is work to be done.

Without contact with the outside world, the town has fallen into turmoil. Every night there are riots against the leadership of the lady, swiftly quelled by the still-loyal guards who serve her, and every morning there are new wounded from all sides of the unrest at your doorstep. If your goal was merely profit this would be the best possible scenario for you; your sacred healing space is overflowing with patients. Even the still-room, which you usually reserve for those most sanctified of healing rituals, now serves as a space for two more beds. You've even been forced to bring on some temporary help in the meantime, as several townsfolk have offered their assistance to your operation in this trying time.

It is while you are overseeing one these new helpers (what was their name?) that you hear a sharp rap at the door. You assume at first that it is another patient, but instead a perfectly healthy man walks in. His face is dirty and tired, his beard scraggly, his body lithe and hungry. He bows formally to you after getting your attention.

"My lady Mistral," he says, his voice baritone and weary. "My name is Edward of the Amber Fields. I represent, well... I represent the interests of the people of this town."

"I know and have known for some time that you and the Lady of Greycrag trust each other deeply, but look around you. Every day the suffering grows worse, and every night the violence increases threefold again. Our city cannot stand this lockdown much longer."

"I know that you and I would likely not see eye-to-eye on many issues, but I ask that you set aside the evening and come talk with my companions and me. At sundown, meet us at The Weeping Horse--you know the place, I'm sure, near the merchant's quarter. For the good of Greycrag and all the people who dwell within, we need your help, Mistral."

The man smiles, but does not wait for a response. Before you can say anything, he has turned and left the building, leaving you with your patients again, and several hours to think about what he said.

What do you do?

Pentaviso

For a time, existence itself seemed to cease as you slipped into the darkness of The Sky Illuminated With Stars's magic. You saw only flashes of images, scenes poorly-remembered from your past life and imagery that you cannot wrap your mind around. The kiss of a lover on a warm morning. Your magic, flowing around your arm. The swing of an executioner's axe. A single eye, bloodshot and watching. A corpse infested with maggots. Fine wine and finer company. Bile and poo poo. Your own head, separated from your shoulders. A tower crumbling. A raven crowing. Fire and smoke.

When you came to, The Sky Illuminated With Stars took some time to examine your body and your wounds, and was pleased to see that their work had been successful. You are mended now, as if your wounds had never even existed in the first place.

In the time since, you have found a place to stay here in Broken Tooth (where?) while you get your head right and decide on what to do next. Broken Tooth itself has fallen into chaos in that time, spurred on by the disappearance of Lord Albrecht and the massacre in the great hall. The situation has not yet boiled over into outright violence, but different organizations and individuals have sought to fill the power vacuum left behind, and most people assume it is only a matter of time before the city fractures entirely.

One evening, as you seek a drink to ease your mind, you happen to run into Katarin of Bolevar, the merchant who brought you here in the first place. She seems pleased to see you, and more pleased that you have recovered so well. Nevertheless, she seems on edge, and over glasses of ale, she explains why.

The merchants of this land are scared. Turmoil and chaos have come to both Broken Tooth and Greycrag here in the west, and war has broken out to the east. The houses of Entremar and Telbatin meet in open conflict, and the death toll rises daily. Trade has effectively stopped, and among the merchants there is chatter of forming a guild of some sort, or perhaps a militia. Something to ensure their well-being, at the very least.

"The woman who seems most likely to lead this group calls herself Alana Golden," Katarin slurs over yet another drink. "She's bad news, Pentaviso. She doesn't want security for the merchants, she wants blood and power. Blood, mainly. I need your help. I need to stop her, whatever that means. I have a plan to... eliminate her. Will you help me?"

She's too drunk to explain more details, and based on her body language she seems more interested in taking you home with her than explaining what her plans are.

What do you do?

You owe 2-keep to The Sky Illuminated With Stars, either pay it now or owe them a debt to be paid later.

Siroko

The journey west takes several weeks, especially as Ena is not particularly adapted for long overland journies by foot. "I woke up within the walls of Fort Entremar some years ago, and I never left that city," she explains one night as you settle down to rest. Still, you do eventually make it safely to the town of Broken Tooth, which you are dismayed to find teeters on a knife's edge. It's hard to piece together a coherent narrative from the townfolk about what happened: the lord Albrecht Donnerfeldt disappeared without a trace at the same moment as a bloody massacre involving townsfolk, guards, and envoys from House Entremar in the great hall. Some people speak of a warrior sorceress there as well, or an ethereal man in red armor, and the stories about their roles in the conflict and what followed it are conflicting and inconclusive. Regardless of the truth of the matter, this city now stands poised to collapse in on itself if no strong leader emerges.

Ena seems paritcularly on edge here, no doubt in part because she has by her own admission not left her last home for the years since she died. She confides in you not long after arriving that she is scared that you will leave her here, and continue on whatever path life's winds takes you on, leaving her to rebuild her life here as a fugitive in a strange city. You are on edge as well, but for an entirely different reason. After so many years in your past life fighting alongside the other Thunders, you have come to recognize the ways they impact the threads of fate, and you can feel in your essence the handiwork of one of them, somehow influencing the situation here in Broken Tooth. You cannot be certain who or how, but you are certain nonetheless that if you dig deep enough, you will find another of your marks.

In the meantime though, there are other things to deal with. You need to find a safe place for yourself and for Ena, and you need to be sure that House Entremar does not find her when they no doubt arrive seeking answers about the massacre. For now, however, your path is your own to choose, and your priorities your own to set.

What do you do?

Xie

Although you had initially planned on helping get Broken Tooth back on its feet after the disappearance of its lord, the past few weeks have seen you abandon that plan. The first inkling that you would need to change plans came just the morning after the incident in the great hall, when you heard a repeated rumor throughout the city that a particularly high-ranking member of the Entremar envoy, known as Teme Soon-To-Be, had escaped the massacre and fled back home towards the lands of her house pledging revenge against the presumed assailants who lived here. Not long after, word began to spread that house Entremar was seeking a temporary armistice with their enemies at house Telbatin and the bulk of the army would be redirected here in retribution for what transpired. With no one else willing to investigate the truth of the matter, you volunteered to go and left that very night. You had a selfish goal too, of course: perhaps someone involved with this whole mess would know what to make of the symbols of eyes that keep following you, or the mysterious map that Katarin gave you. After all, no one in Broken Tooth seemed to know, but the answers have to be out there somewhere.

It is late one night as you make your way across the scrublands towards the east that you first encounter a sign of trouble. Your first indication is a smell of smoke and the faintest sound of human voices and screams on the other side of a hill. Climbing to the top, you find yourself staring down at a small village nestled along the muddy banks of a small river. As you watch, you can see assailants from some unknown force laying waste to the place, setting fire to the thatch-roofed huts and capturing or executing any villagers they find. It's hard to tell where precisely you are--you are no navigator, and while you can read the stars you can never quite exactly pinpoint your location--but you suspect that these lands are a neutral land, unclaimed by any great lord or lady. The people burning the village bear no standards, and you do not recognize the war cries echoing up towards you.

You recognize that you are faced with a choice: either enter the village and attempt to save whatever villagers may be left, very much endangering yourself against a force far larger than you alone, or skirt the village, letting the violence carry out as it may, and continue your quest towards Entremar.

What do you do?

quiggy fucked around with this message at Apr 16, 2018 around 14:52

LogicNinja
Jan 21, 2011

...the blur blurs blurringly across the blurred blur in a blur of blurring blurriness that blurred...



0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●●●●

I leap high, above the houses, above the trees, and come down amidst the raiders like a thunderbolt. They scatter from the shockwave, sent flying; my wyrd comes down with the great force of my displeasure, pinning some of them to the earth like bugs, and fire gathers behind me like a cloak. I turn to the rest, weapon in hand: an unfair fight, however many of them there are.

That is how it would have gone, in the Shining Kingdom, when I was Xe, Who Is Undefeated.
My blood sings for it still. I can not afford to indulge it. I move into the village, darting from shadow to shadow, my ur-silks dark and rippling, an outline against the night: in the chaos and fire and darkness, I'll be able to pick bandits or soldiers or whatever they may be off one or two at a time. I keep my eyes out for leaders, men directing the carnage rather than merely partaking of it.

---

Paying 1 keep at the start of the session; spending what I got from Katarin, leaving me at 3.
Rolling +Sharp since I'm reading a charged situation: 2d6+1=6. Boo.
Asking - What (besides the obvious) should I be on the lookout for? and expecting the worst.
In case I need to act under fire to get into the village or in response to something that happens: 2d6+3=13

LogicNinja fucked around with this message at Apr 13, 2018 around 00:34

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

MY PAPER SOLDIERS
FORM A WALL
FIVE PACES THICK AND
TWICE AS TALL



0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot-2 Sharp+1 Weird+2 | 1-keep | XP ●●●○○

Broken Tooth is a city at war with itself, and House Entremar will soon fall upon them. If it were not for my certainty that the other Thunders were still here, I would push on, as soon as Ena could continue. But with them so close...

Keeping my promise to Ena and finding my prey lead me to the same place. I am a warrior, and all that I have ever I had I won at the tip of a spear. It will be no different here. There are still those with power in this city, and they will have need of fighters. Or, should I dislike their offers, I will have a name to rally others against.

Either way, the name Alana Golden is on many tongues. She will be a power here soon, one way or another. So to her hall I have come, so that I can see what sort of power she would be.

Spending 1-keep.

Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at Apr 12, 2018 around 04:05

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




0:00 Harm 0-armor | Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 1-keep | XP ○○○○○

The violence takes its toll. The sweet curls of incense wafting through the temple warding against grief, fear, and despair in equal measure do little to hide the charnal scent that accompanies so many injuries in one place. The Lady holds her own counsel, as is her way, but even I have begun to wonder what threat could require such measures. Still, it is heartening to see the people of Greycrag rally to the common good. Of those that have offered to be my hands while the situation continues, I have taken to training two. It is best to take the young. The grown carry too much superstition within them to heal as I do, or even to follow directions without question.

One is the blacksmith's boy, Small Tom, as his master lies on one of the beds a club took Large Tom from behind a few nights past, cracking his skull and the forges are not lit. The other is an urchin. She does not seem to have a name, nor a tongue. A fine touch with needle and thread, though, and I find her disposition pleasing. I've taken to calling her Needle. Perhaps I will train her more fully, should she remain after the lockdown lifts. Perhaps I will investigate her, too, when the Still-Room empties of patients.

The visitor, this Edward... I do not trust him. Let alone that he will not reveal who holds his loyalty, this seems a clear invitation to lend legitimacy to a plot against the Lady. As I perform my afternoon ministries, directing Small Tom and Needle about the temple while I clean wounds and change wrappings, I have plenty of time to consider the possibilities. If this is a plot against her, she deserves to know. If they know some hint as to why the Lady has taken these steps, I need to know. I would not break our pact without great reason. I doubt they can provide that, but...

It seems I will need to have Small Tom and Needle watch the temple this night. The doors are sturdy and the violence has not touched this ground, but I will caution them to let none in but me until the morning light shines. The patients will likely not trouble them overmuch, the incense keeping the pain from driving them to mad action.

Spending 1-keep at the start of session, Mistral lives among her flock.

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

devil on your shoulder





Clever Betty


0-Wound | 0-Armor | 0-Keep | x x x o o >
Cool-1, Hard=0, Hot+2, Sharp+2, Weird-1


I have been staying at various inns and taverns, often trading a place to stay for a few nights for a show or two for the establishment's patrons. Easy trade, but boring. Rather unexpectedly boring. I have grown accustomed, it seems to swapping stories and intrigue with the power brokers in the cities, and not the working class. Grown accustomed. That was the life I knew before, though, and it was lucky(?) that I was able to fall into again, after I died. With the city in chaos, there's no hub of power, no one in control, no court to hold that I may entertain. Anarchy. And yet anarchy at the highest levels seems to matter little to the city's blood. The tension is building, and soon people will have to choose sides. Hopefully, we will be able to leave before then. It begins with the ladies and lords, and trickles down. The highly educated, and then the merchants, and then, only in the end, the trades and artisans.

And then the merchants, which brings me here. The merchants are moving. Katarin tells me so, and while she may be a bit distracted tonight, she knows her livelihood well. I consider all she's told me, and start rolling a plan over in my head. If the merchants want to form a power bloc, then they'll need a leader capable of leading it from all directions. Soldiers they are not, and a bloodthirsty guild leader won't help. But I'll need more information from Katarin, more detailed information, and it doesn't seem like I'm going to find it tonight. What I have found, though, is a much more pleasant bed, and much more pleasant company, than I've found the past few weeks. I finish my drink and let Katarin tow me to the door.

1-keep on lifestyle, and paying off The Sky Illuminated With Stars.

Alehkhs
Oct 6, 2010

The Sorrow of Poets



2 Harm | 1 armor | Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 1 keep | XP ○○○○○»

We cannot wait, there are those among us who need medical attention. Looking over my crew, currently setting a crude camp in the mud, it's clear to me that we can not afford to head south - especially if the rumors of war are correct. So we will need to gain access to the city and look for aid there.

Perhaps there is someone amongst this belayed crowd that could help us. Pulling Cerlen aside, I inform her that I am going to take a walk through the tent city to see if I can find anyone that may be of service to our needs. "Once the men have settled," I tell her, "I would like for you to scout the city perimeter. If I cannot find help out here, we will have no choice but to try and make our way inside."

Leaving the crew in her command, I turn from Cerlen and begin making my way through the crowded tents - looking, listening, and hoping to find something or someone worthwhile.

quiggy
Aug 7, 2010

[in Russian] Oof.






Tikorn

You work your way high and low through the makeshift town, gathering information, and trying to find something, anything that might help you enter the city. You learn a few scraps and pieces about what's going on: you hear stories of unrest in the city at night, you hear that the lockdown has only been for a week or so, you hear an agitation in the voices of the people here that you suspect could boil over into violence at any moment. Eventually you come across a man speaking to a small crowd gathered around him. He is loud enough to be heard by the crowd and to gather more around him, but quiet enough that without joining the crowd itself, you can't make out what he's saying. Asking someone nearby, you hear his name: Hlaford Axton. He has the cadence and affectation of a priest, but he is not giving a sermon.

Axton claims that he has found a way into the city that a small group could take under cover of darkness to open the gates to the rest and end the blockade. He is looking for a few good men--or women, he quickly adds--to follow him tonight. Preferably people who have fought alongside each other for a long time, not merely random members of the tent city fed up with their treatment. In making this request, however, he accidentally reveals the knowledge of the entrance, and you realize that if you wanted, you need not follow him at all. Still others argue that it is not right to force their way in, and yet more believe that soon the violence in the city will no longer be contained.

What do you do?

Mistral

You make your way to The Weeping Horse as Edward directed. On arriving, a man standing guard recognizes you, nods, and opens the door wordlessly. Already a good thirty or so people have gathered, and are listening to Edward speak. He sees the door open, and nods at you as you enter, but continues talking to the crowd.

"I tell you the truth! Not two fortnights ago Lord Albrecht of Broken Tooth was vanished by some ill magics. They say a man in red armor slew a room full of his men and men of House Entremar, and they say only a woman clothed in living silks drove him off. And then, just ten days ago, the man in red armor was seen here! The Lady fears this man, as well she should, but she takes these drastic measures without the consent of her people or the wellbeing of anyone but herself!"

Edward steps down and motions towards you, Mistral. "Lady Mistral, you are a trusted member of this community, both by the common people and by the Lady of Greycrag herself. I beseech you, meet with the Lady and give her our list of demands--to open the gates, or to give us a good explanation for the lockdown and commit men to helping us survive it--and report back. I know you and she are close, but we must save Greycrag. Her people come before her ruler."

What do you do?

Siroko

After a few days afield, you find your way to the place where Alana Golden's merchants have gathered. It is hardly the place you might have suspected, but a small village commandeered by the merchants either by gold or by iron. Golden's hall, such as it is, is no more than a repurposed tavern, thatch roof and all.

A few merchants eye you suspiciously as you walk through the town, an unknown entity with a spear at your back, but none say anything. Eventually you come to the entrance to the tavern, guarded by a single woman with a fine steel sword.

"I do not know your face. Speak quickly, outsider. Golden listens where gold speaks."

What do you do?

I've added Alana Golden to the map in the first post.

Pentaviso

Morning comes all too soon, and your head pounds with yet another hangover. You swear that not only are hangovers worse here than they were in your last life, but they get worse with each subsequent hangover you have. Beside you, Katarin has already woken up and fetched a pitcher of water. She pours you a glass and hands it to you. "Drink up, Pentaviso. I'd imagine you're thirsty."

She brushes your hair aside and plants a single kiss on your forehead, then climbs out of bed and walks towards a table set up next to the door. There's a few papers and what appears from the bed to be a map set up there that she begins rifling through. "When you have a moment, I'd love to talk to you about what we discussed last night. Alana Golden-"

Her words are sharply cut off by the sound of an explosion outside. Quickly you pull yourself out of bed and look down to see a horde of men wielding anything from well-crafted swords and axes to cheap iron pitchforks meeting the guards of Broken Tooth in fighting in the street. Across the way, the tavern where you and Katarin shared a drink last night is now a smoldering crater, likely the site of the explosion you just heard. Downstairs, you hear commotion as some of the men force their way in and begin to ransack the common room of the inn. Katarin screams and begins fumbling for her sword, but she can't find it amidst her panic.

What do you do?

Don't forget that your special move triggered with Katarin, so choose one of your options.

Xie

Keeping to the shadows, you manage to work your way through the town, searching for any sign of who might be in charge here. Eventually, you find someone who could only be the leader: a woman in fine leather armor, flanked on either side by similarly well-dressed men, not partaking directly in the carnage. With them, you see something far worse than any man with a sword: two war dogs, ravenous and angry, barely restrained from their own desire for bloodlust. You are Xie, Who Walks Again, no sword or spear frightens you, but a dog with razor-sharp teeth, a killer instinct, and reflexes far beyond those of any human? That's something to truly watch out for.

Of course, it is at the same moment that you see a dog that it sees you, and it begins barking and growling in your direction. Its handler draws a sword and looks in your direction, and you're not quite fast enough to duck back into cover before she sees you as well. With a quick moment she unleashes the hound, who rushes towards you, teeth bared, violence its only instinct.

What do you do?

I'm intentionally ignoring your Act Under Fire because I want to know how you react. That being said, if you do something that falls under the trigger for that move, feel free to use that 13.

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

MY PAPER SOLDIERS
FORM A WALL
FIVE PACES THICK AND
TWICE AS TALL



0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot-2 Sharp+1 Weird+2 | 1-keep | XP ●●●○○

"And where gold speaks, steel shouts," I tell the guard. "I have heard that with the lord of Broken Tooth missing, Alana Golden gathers power to herself. However much coin she has, not every foe can be bought." I let the my spear slide from where I've carried it in the crook of my arm, and plant the butt of it in the earth. "She'll need other means to pay off the rest. And in that, you'll find none wealthier than I."

LogicNinja
Jan 21, 2011

...the blur blurs blurringly across the blurred blur in a blur of blurring blurriness that blurred...



0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●○○○○ | 1 advance

We did not have war dogs in the Shining Kingdom.
Some kept guard dogs, to be sure, which would bark to alert; we hunted with hounds at our sides, our loyal companions, swift and strong, able to bring down prey with flashing fans and howl in triumph.

But we did not turn them to war. I did not see such a thing until I awoke here. When I did, I was repulsed.

War dogs are a heresy, a blasphemy. They are made with cruelty and violence; twisted until they know nothing but the fight. You do not have to teach a cat to kill out of spite or pleasure, but dogs are different. War is not in a dog's nature. Hound and men--and hounds and my people, as well--have a bond that predates written memory and even oral histories. A cat may imprint on its owner and treat them as a parent, but dogs know we are not dogs, and they love us still.


My wyrd is gathered around me, prepared to strike, to smite the hound and its handler both.

I do not unleash it.

With my wyrd wrapped around me like a cloak, smoke and dust pulled in and frozen in the air around me, I can see the Shell of the hound, its swirling aura, just as I saw my own in Broken Tooth.
What I do--simpler, smaller--is the opposite of the spell I fought there. I reach for the red skein of violence threaded through the hound's aura, and I undo it.
Men can make dogs transgress. They can bury their nature underneath beatings and starvation and violence. But they can not get rid of that nature, which is devotion.
I release my wyrd--a halo of smoke rushes outwards from me--and with it, I draw the scarlet flow of hurt and rage out of the hound's Shell and scatter it.

"Come," I tell the hound, holding my ground. "Sit."

Underneath it all, under any hurt or pain, any betrayal by men, all dogs are good dogs.
---

Seduce or Manipulate - Hot +1, +2 from reading a charged situation (with Perfect Instincts) 2d6+1+2=10

LogicNinja fucked around with this message at Apr 20, 2018 around 19:48

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

devil on your shoulder





Clever Betty


0-Wound | 0-Armor | 0-Keep | x x x x o >
Cool-1, Hard=0, Hot+2, Sharp+2, Weird-1


I slam down the glass, mouth still full of water, then swallow. An explosion? Bombs? "Easy easy easy, Katarin;" I say as I move to calm her. "We're safe in the immediate," which is true. Not our building that exploded. I don't know how long we'll be safe, but for the moment, we're ok. The possibilities billow like the smoke pouring up into the sky across the street. "Your sword is in the chair." Might have had to pay for that, but not after this morning.

Then I realize that they're scrabbling in the inn as well. Are they looking for us? For Katarin? I strain to listen, but it is a bit hard to hear...

Read a Sitch: 2d6+2 7 What's our best escape route?
Special: I take +1 forward

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Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




0:00 Harm 6-devotion | Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 1-keep | XP ○○○○○

I recognize no little sense in Edward's words. If this information is true, it does explain much... and, yet, little. The Lady has faced the threat of assassins before. It seems part and parcel with the role of leadership. While this one is alleged to be particularly skilled, even unnaturally so, it hardly seems enough on its face. Either there is more to the story, I've misjudged the Lady, or some combination of the two. I pay careful attention to the way his body speaks, particularly if it matches how his mouth moves. I'd not be some patsy in an attempt to unseat the Lady. Her rule has been harmonious with my own purposes. I suspect that, no matter how this ends, new leadership would not be interested in maintaining the current accord.

I say, "I can make no promises, you understand. The Lady sees none. Perhaps she will see fit to confide in me, but perhaps her guards will turn me away at the door." I shake my head. "My own resources are stretched, my temple full to bursting. I would see an end to this madness as eagerly as you, but I fear some of this talk would only lead to more blood filling the streets."

My eyes take in those filling the Weeping Horse, searching those who would meet my gaze, and I finally sigh and say, "I will do what I can. I will attempt to speak with her. And, in turn..." I look seriously at Edward. "It would help us all were the streets to be calm tonight. Can you and yours agree to that?"

Read A Person: 2d6+2 8

Spending my hold to ask Edward, "What does your character intend to do?"

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