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  I am chained. I have been chained before, more than once. It never lasts. I am Xíe, the Unfettered! These fetters, too, will fall away. Yes, my body aches--the manacles were set into the wall at a height meant for the average man, not for my full seven feet of height--but I endure, uncomplaining. When the soldier comes, my eyes, golden and wild, meet his, unflinching and unblinking. I have met a basilisk's eyes and had it turn away: this soldier is as nothing. What sets me apart, besides everything? I am Xíe, of the Shining Kingdom! My people knew no afterlife. My people were to sleep the Great Slumber eternal, dreaming the world as it passed--on shields, on biers, in tombs, in ziggurats. And yet I am here, and I am Xíe, Who Walks Again, and not all the rhetoric in the world is enough form a bridge that can span the gulf between this man and I. I don't even need to answer him: I just stare at him, taking his measure. Not my father! I smile at that, an incongruous wolf grin, and keep smiling as he walks away. If such a man could sire a hero of the Shining Kingdom, this world would be a better and grander place. My esteem of the Lady of Greycrag, though, has just improved. All of my possessions are there: my sword-staff, with its haft of black wood and its impossibly keen edge; my jewelery, gold for wrist and throat, arm bracelets set with scarlet stones. My ur-silks are, as always, unstained: neither blood nor filth clings to the ancient material. They wrap me, moving of their own volition, cream-white cloth tight against my shape. I stride out of the prison, stooping through doorways, and emerge into clean air. The man I killed deserved it, and had his knife already drawn as he died. The Lady of Greycrag has released me--but not with an apology for holding me. That meant that whoever this man's family was, their displeasure was worth weighing against my considerable wrath. I like this city, as well as I can like any city here. I have no wish to snap it in half like a man's spine with a blood-feud, and with the damage I'd do putting it to rest. Two options, then: pay the Lady a visit (unlikely that these people would pursue trouble in her very court), or leave and return to Broken Tooth, see how things have gone in my absence. Maybe linger for whatever passes for khaf or wine here. Then again, perhaps best not. Pentaviso is in the city, isn't he? He'll likely know this family. May as well pay him a visit. I doesn't need to know his exact lodging to know where I'll find him: in the finest room in the tallest tower. Like a stalking panther, I head for Greycrag. --- -1 Keep, prison's no luxury. Keep left: 3 LogicNinja fucked around with this message at 06:46 on Jan 21, 2018 |
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Jan 20, 2018 01:43
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ○○○○○» His scent is unmistakable. He's lithe, and pretty, and he has a certain lethal cunning, but so often I am reminded that Pentaviso is not nearly as subtle as Ai Night's-Daughter, or any of the shadow-weavers of my land. And he is, of course, right where I expected him to be. Or he was, at least. "I am not Pentaviso," I tell his latest pastime, already turning to go. "But I will see what the Lady wants with him." I shut the door behind me and head for the Lady's palace. My face and the look in my eyes are enough to get me past the first set of guards. Time for a little more formality, then. My ur-silks shift and lengthen behind me, forming a cape, darkening to scarlet. I head for the audience chamber. The Lady deserves a visit, and Pentaviso might be a helpful intermediary there, too. LogicNinja fucked around with this message at 10:00 on Jan 21, 2018 |
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Jan 21, 2018 07:24
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ○○○○○» I see it all: which of them has too tight a grip on their polearm, not truly used to the weapon; which of them takes this seriously and which slouches, looking only to pass the time without incident. Treat the group as one man, and it remains to be seen which attitude will win out. "I am Xíe, Who Walks Again," I tell him, as though he did not already know, "and I have come to meet with with the Lady of Greycrag and her guest, Pentaviso. Let me pass through, and you will not regret it." I let a little something of what burns inside me out into my voice: it is not the wyrd I have lost, the power I once wore like a cloak, but it is something that affects men and women here nevertheless. And besides--it is almost certainly true, and it lets each of them take from the statement what they will. This one may not want to risk his life by getting in my way; that one may think the lady invited me to join them; a third may assume a future reward. The minds of men are more easily guided than pushed, and that much is as true in this land as in mine. --- Seduce or manipulate, roll of 9, +1 Hot = 10. LogicNinja fucked around with this message at 02:23 on Jan 23, 2018 |
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Jan 23, 2018 00:02
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ○○○○○» "Do not be angry with him. He was between a rock and a hard place. I am difficult to deny, and for good reason." I let her see a bit of that fire as well; just a hint. She has dropped in my esteem for this, but not far: I have learned what it means to have incompetent help, since I awoke here. "I come to offer you my thanks for dealing with unpleasant events fairly and in good faith. Thanks--and a gift. I also seek the advice of Pentaviso on that event, as it seems you seek it in other political matters." From within my ur-silks' scarlet cloak, I produce what I prepared on my way earlier: a gift for her. Few bear a piece of my jewelry, that which was placed beside my on my shield to accompany me into the Great Slumber, and the work of the great craftsmen of the Shining Kingdom is beyond peer in this realm. I extend to her a hand which bears a bracelet, twelve delicate snakes wrought from gold twined together, each of their mouths clamped onto a different facet of a ruby. Close examination will reveal a wealth of incredibly life-like details. If she knows me, she knows that those who bear my gifts may return them to ask a favor of me. I do not always do as they desire--but I am inclined to. --- Spending 1 keep for... either "tribute to a warlord" or "the bribes required to turn someone's eye or secure someone's complicity", whichever.
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Jan 24, 2018 09:50
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ○○○○○» I incline my head. I had thought Roderick beneath notice, but ignoring the offered wine was a misstep, and she is dealing with it fairly. That doesn't mean that I don't give him the full force of my gaze, golden like a wolf's or tiger's, and show my teeth as he approaches. Let all men be wary when dealing with Xíe, Who Walks Again, whatever the right of the matter is! But then: Diplomat. Pentaviso is no ambassador. He is an enspelled blade in a sleeve, a silk garotte. I say as much. "I am only hearing the end of this, Lady, but I can intuit some of the matter. Pentaviso is many things, but a straightforward ambassador of goodwill, he is not. Perhaps he would be better received by the targets of his diplomacy if you and he had an apparent falling-out." I give the men about to usher Pentaviso out a look, no gentler than the one Roderick got. "If you'd like, we can put up a fight--just for show; we'll leave your men unharmed, but word will spread to make it seem as though you and he bear each other no good will. Perhaps that will be a good pretext for him to seek another's hearth, and to be received without the suspicion that he acts on your behalf." That would put me in the same position--but with the Lady's promise backing my side in my own matter of unfriendly diplomacy. A good blade to have up my sleeve; my others are more literal. LogicNinja fucked around with this message at 04:22 on Jan 25, 2018 |
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Jan 25, 2018 00:36
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ○○○○○» I hide the smile that threatens to cross my face at the sight of Pentaviso getting punched. It's not that I dislike him, far from it--there's just something about him that makes seeing him get hit particularly entertaining. I beckon a pair of guards. "At spear point," I advise them. "And hold me--no, not like that. You can't grab my arm like I'm some tavern wench. Here, hook it around my armpit--" I show him a simple hold, and pull him along, the other one leveling his polearm at me as we go. I pull free once we're out, and give them a good cussing-out as I dust myself off and stride away, my cloak billowing behind me. When it's time, I head for the south gate. Pentaviso's trip; he can secure the transportation.
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Jan 26, 2018 09:08
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ○○○○○» Mostly, I watch Pentaviso work, my height and bearing and the gleaming, ancient metal of my staff-sword doing the work of showing that we'll make reliable couriers. This is something men like him do that does not come natrally to me: taking a journey we were going to pay for, and turning it into something others will pay us for. I don't object in the slightest.
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Jan 30, 2018 11:50
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ○○○○○» I size her up--openly. Let's see if she shrinks or straightens her spine when confronted with amber eyes and night-dark braids and seven feet of height. I suspect she won't shrink. A bold, enterprising woman. Something to be admired. "More than your usual haul, then? A woman coming up in the world. Albrecht will be glad to have these, I don't doubt."
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Jan 31, 2018 08:27
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ○○○○○» "A thing?" For a moment, I don't understand, but the way in which men and women here tend to leave their relationships ambiguous and to hide their intent behind coyness makes it plain. "Ha. Pentaviso has had the honor and good fortune of my bed a time or two in the past, but there is no commitment there. He left a soft young man in a tall tower when we departed from Greycrag, but you will need to ask him if he has sworn exclusivity to the lad." I leave it at that for now--let her push if she wants--but do take another long look at her. I hadn't considered this possibility; there are many great tragedies of the Shining Kingdom, both historical and fictional, that drive home the peril of couplings between lieges and vassals, employers and those they employ. But Katarin is no great lady, and I am Xíe, Who Walks Again, not a lovestruck servant, and she is shapely enough, with striking eyes and, most importantly, a daring and enterprising character. Looking down at her, I lean a little closer. "Most merchants would wait until the end of a contract, with a soft bed nearby and a high wall between them and the wild." It's neither chastisement nor compliment, but it is truth. She can grapple with that or ignore it as she chooses. LogicNinja fucked around with this message at 21:04 on Feb 1, 2018 |
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Jan 31, 2018 23:08
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ○○○○○» So she took it amiss. Even if it had been a rejection, that would not be the best reaction: when you make an invitation, you should be prepared to have it be declined. I rise and shake myself off, braids flying every which way, my ur-silks responding and shifting from the silk-soft of sleep to a stiffer texture. Staff-spear in one hand, the morning sun at my back, I emerge from the tent and lift a hand in greeting. "Men of Broken Tooth! How is Albrecht? We bring him a merchant, who brings supplies!"
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Feb 2, 2018 21:59
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ○○○○○» I take a smooth step backwards as the weapon comes up, a reflex honed in countless battles. "That comes to a surprise, since I have not murdered anyone in Albrecht's territory recently, nor even been there in weeks. Did you get your orders from the Lord directly?" My weapon is still in hand, but I don't level it. My ur-silks stiffen around me, preparing to defend me. This is not something Albrecht would set in motion, I think. No, this smacks of interference. Who is pulling your strings, little guard? --- Read a charged situation: 2d6+1 = 4. Oops. I get to ask 1 anyway, but be prepared for the worst: who's really in control here?
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Feb 7, 2018 21:45
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ○○○○○» She is fast, and skilled. But I am Xíe, Who Walks Again. I have outmaneuvered quicksilver swiftlings from the Chaos Beyond. She may expect me to be shocked, to fall back. I step to the side and bring my staff-sword into a battle-grip even as I bring its blade forward and down. Combat is geometry as surely as rune-magic is: a slight change in angle means the difference between having the advantage and having a blade at your throat. She's coming at me at a very smooth angle, but that sidestep makes it a bad one. I can put my blade inside hers, able to thrust if she steps back or cut her in half if she moves to the side. "Drop it, or be dropped!" I tell her, and there is no concealing the hot triumph in my voice. There are strings being pulled here indeed, but a string can be cut, and from that broken thread an entire tapestry unraveled. --- Go into danger, if necessary: 2d6+3 = 9 Fly at someone (+cool - Ice Cold): 2d6+3 = 11
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Feb 9, 2018 00:43
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ●●○○○» From that broken thread.... It's almost Pentaviso's thread snipped short by the Weaver at the Loom. The woman is gifted, fierce, dedicated. She is used to being faster, better, more decisive than her enemies. She's good enough she tries not to underestimate me. She's so used to being better that she does it anyway. When I get her, it's not a matter of subtle angles--it's her taking a gamble, thinking she can fool me. My height and strength mean that she doesn't want to try to grab the shaft of my weapon and close to grappling distance. Instead, she takes a risk that seems smaller, and her reward is pain and death. My staff-sword affords me extra reach compared to her traditional blade, which means that I don't have to fear a counter-stroke when I strike. Just like that, she falls. What a shame! I would have told her of the Shining Kingdom that once was and could be again. I would have bound her life to mine. Instead, she falls to the ground and to whatever after-afterlife or greater darkness may await her. As soon as she falls, I'm already sprinting for Pentaviso, charging the spearman. He's good, too, if not as good as the woman. I leap for him while he's striking and my staff-sword flashes in a short, shining arc. Katarin gets there first and I shift mid-air so that I don't strike her. I land in a crouch, make sure the spearman is dead, and then look Pentaviso over for wounds. He'll live, though he'll need attention. I turn to Katarin, crouching down to lay a hand on her shoulder. "Well and bravely done," I tell her. "A risk you were not obligated to take, and a life saved."
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Feb 13, 2018 00:50
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ●●○○○» I hold her hair as she throws up. Was I really so young and new to the world that I retched after killing, once? An aeon and another aeon ago. "The first time is the hardest," I tell her, though not unsympathetically. "You've learned that you're someone who can do this, when it is needed. Three ways to go from here: try to reject that part of you, try to find peace with it, or understand it and save it should it ever be needed again. When we get to Broken Tooth, I will show you the rudiments of self-defense." I glance at the guards, then at Pentaviso. "Traitors, or agents with stolen uniforms? Either way, we should stash the uniforms with the goods. The bodies... I will make a caern for the woman, at least. She was gifted. It hurt to kill her."
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Feb 14, 2018 12:06
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 2-keep | XP ●●○○○» "I meant hide them," I tell him, "but they're not exactly intact, are they? Bury them with the bodies. We have time enough to dig, and they fought well." I pick up the sword with the eye in the hilt, test its balance. "This symbol... someone threatened me. Hinted at it. I think I'll have to have a stern conversation with him eventually." I consider the two corpses, thinking this through. "If they were agents in Albrecht's ranks, there will likely be more. We can stop outside of Broken Tooth, slip in like shadows, clear things up with Albrecht in person."
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Feb 16, 2018 12:30
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●○○○» I keep an eye on Pentaviso as he hisses and groans with pain. I change his banadages, but I am no healer: I know that which a warrior needs to know to survive. By the time we get to Broken Tooth, I've largely abandoned my plan: sneaking in would mean abandoning them, and he's in no condition to stand guard. I have the sword with the eye-hilt, though I've wrapped it in cloth to hide it: no need to draw attention from those who know the symbol. "No. I'll ride in with you. Something is rotten here, and Pentaviso is wounded. I have no wish to leave you undefended." I pocket her coin--we're here, payment is technically due--but.
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Feb 16, 2018 22:18
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●○○○» I keep my eyes and ears open as we roll in, though I glance at the tower: Albrecht will need to know what happened on the way to Broken Tooth. There is treachery afoot, or worse. I look Pentaviso up and down before I answer the merchant. Yes, he should be able to get to a healer. I shift focus to Katarin, and nod. "Not far. I'll accompany you." Once we're alone for a moment, I imitate the gesture the guard performed at the gate. "What did that mean, Katarin? I have not seen it here before."
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Feb 21, 2018 12:30
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●○○○» I give Katarin a nod, and reach out to grasp her shoulders in farewell. "Thank you for the map. The next time we meet," I tell her, "I will tell you of the Shining Kingdom." I return the salute of her homeland. She has honored me with a piece of herself. I examine the map once she is gone, to see if I can make sense of it--do the lines map to geographical features?--but then I put it away and start for the castle. Albrecht has waited for this news; he should not wait longer. LogicNinja fucked around with this message at 00:05 on Feb 24, 2018 |
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Feb 23, 2018 13:01
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●○○○» My teeth clench together until I feel like they might crack. Fate! The threads of Fate were to be my cradle, my cocoon! like all of our great heroes, I was fated to rest in the Great Slumber, dreaming on my bier, until the Tuatha could reclaim the lands Under the Hill from the chaos that had consumed them and bring us back home in glory. Every seer who could speak prophecy, every oracle in the Shining Kingdom, heard that spill from their lips as their first pronouncement when the Sight claimed them. And yet, I am here. I walk again in this place, not across the sea and Under the Hill. My fate was denied me: why should I not deny Fate what it desires? The figure disappears before I can vent my sudden rage, and I push it aside, stooping to examine the slain men. I check their weapons, their wounds, their surroundings, to see if I can reconstruct what happened here. --- Read a Charged Situation: 2d6+1=9: What should I be on the lookout for?
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Feb 26, 2018 22:03
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●○○○» I take a deep breath in. My heart pounds like a smith at his forge, harder than it does in actual battle. This isn't right. A spell? A curse? It could be responsible for all of this, violence out of nowhere in a place for audience and discussion. I exhale, and push my presence outwards with my breath. A ring of dust and blood-droplets expands outwards as I call upon my wyrd and grasp outwards into the world, seeking something--to feel the shape of whatever enchantment is doing this, to pull a vision of the past out of the air, something. --- Grasp blindly outward: 2d6-1 = 9
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Mar 5, 2018 12:07
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●●○○» I pull my breath in and tighten my focus. My wyrd is a weapon, a shield, a smith's hammer, a thief's garrote. I am no spell-weaver like the great mages of the Shining Kingdom, the ones who maintained our amenities, sent our messages, spun our wards. But I have the scent of it, now. It is a dark, twisting thing, a weaving beyond my understanding--but I have hunted dark and mysterious things before. I exhale again, dust and blood and plaster rushing away from me, the columns creaking under the weight of my wyrd, and I pursue it, seeking either a link to something here, or to something or someone elsewhere. The focus, or the originator. So long the spell persists, it should be able to guide me to one or the other. --- Holding my course despite danger: 2d6+3 = 10 LogicNinja fucked around with this message at 23:09 on Mar 8, 2018 |
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Mar 7, 2018 12:17
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●●○○» I gather my wyrd back with a shudder. As always when I muster it, my eyes light up amber-gold, and, I can see my Shell, my aura--a translucent swirl of obsidian and black opal, sparking with multiple colors. I can see the spell reaching out for me, its energy filtering into my Shell, trying to twist the energy to give it overtones of fear and rage. I block it out. I was expecting an object or a sigil, the focus of a spell. But this does not work like the sorceries I am used to. Either that figure in red armor was truly here and stepped through empty air to depart, or he can strike from a distance. I leave the room, and shut the door behind me, listening for the sounds of life, checking the rooms. Someone else will be in charge, now. They need to know what happened here. And I need an angle. I need to know more about who has done this--and what they might do next.
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Mar 12, 2018 08:00
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●●○○» I scowl at Tristan's story. Only when I realize I'm scaring the lad do I show him empty hands and a reassuring smile. Well, maybe reassuring--teeth just a little sharper than the people of this place, a wolf grin from a forgotten age. Faerie, the people dwelling in huts on the edges of the Chaos Beyond called us when the Tuatha arrived in our shining ships from Under the Hill and across the sea. Emere. Tien. It was a tumultuous time. So is this one, though it is dirtier, smaller, far less glorious. I put my smile away, but nod to Tristan. "You did right to flee. That man in red armor--I saw him when I entered the throne room, nattering about Fate. He has spirited Albrecht away somewhere, but I do not know if he laid the spell on those in the throne room or if he was merely there to save him. I will find out." I look at the gathered few. "Are you all that is left? Bar the door to the throne room. Do not enter--the spell is a live thing yet, seeking more victims. Then find whoever is left alive in this keep and gather them. The danger is mostly passed, but we must forge a way forward, and the keep will need someone to be in command."
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Mar 14, 2018 11:09
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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 Xíe, 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 01:34 on Apr 13, 2018 |
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Apr 10, 2018 21:53
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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 20:48 on Apr 20, 2018 |
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Apr 20, 2018 09:30
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●○○○○» | 1 advance Two choices: to flee, or to do battle, here and now, outnumbered (though by one less than before--time enough to tell the hound now sitting, confused, in front of me that they're a good dog, before I spring into action) even as I draw my staff-sword and rush to meet the leather-armored woman, the apparent leader. What she's going to do is obvious. The hound will leap first: who would want to be the first into danger, or to risk lunging first and having their war-hound accidentally bite them, or collide with them? No, she will let the hound leap, then strike. And the hound, of course, moves in a straight line: charge, then spring--either at my legs or at my face, depending on training. It all goes right for them until it doesn't. I'm rushing to meet them until I'm not: I direct my momentum sideways, springing just as the dog leaps, to let it rush past me--and then get my blade at the throat of the leather-armored woman before she can correct her course of action. "Stop. Call them off. Who is your band? Why do this?" --- Fly at someone, presumably; maybe go into danger 2d6+3=8, +2 for 10 for acting on the dog-related answer. Assuming I need a second roll (e.g. if this is 'go into danger' before I can 'fly at someone', here's a Go Into Danger of a whopping 2d6+3=14. Hot drat!
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Apr 26, 2018 03:44
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●○○○○» | 1 advance She's stubborn, hotheaded. I reach down and grab her wrist, twisting it behind her back until it creaks, keeping the blade at my throat. I've choked up on my staff-sword with the other hand, keeping her at her throat. "I am Xíe, Who Walks Again," I tell her. "And this is no war. This is something baser." I put her between myself and the leaping dog. "Last chance. Call it off and surrender, or die." She is skillful enough I would hate to snuff her light out, but there are other skillful women-at-arms in the world. If she does anything besides what I said, I will end her. --- Go into danger, maybe, to show her that This Is It, and if she doesn't do what I say, cut her throat: [url=http://orokos.com/roll/619437]2d6+3=12. Great rolls lately... LogicNinja fucked around with this message at 10:24 on May 6, 2018 |
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May 3, 2018 12:10
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| # ¿ Apr 23, 2024 15:11 |
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0:00 Harm 2-armor | Cool+3 Hard+0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 3-keep | XP ●●●○○» | 1 advance I hit the ground and fling myself to the side, rolling away from the body of the foolish woman who'd tried to face me head-on, and turn the roll into a kip-up that gets me back on my feet, weapon in hand. My wyrd finds this hound, too, and reaches out towards it; touches its scarlet-streaked Shell. Good dog. Those who used you as a weapon are gone. Come. Heel. Sit. This is getting out of control, and even as my blood sings in my veins, my gaze flashes around the burning village: who has come? What are they about to do? A good warrior can view a force as a singe opponent, an entity at scale, and understand its design and what it will do next. --- Go into danger (+Cool): 2d6+3=11 Seduce or Manipulate (+Hot): 2d6+1+2=12 If it applies and isn't too much for one post, Read a Charged Situation (+Sharp): 2d6+1=8 --the question: What is my enemy's true position?
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Jun 1, 2018 03:51
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