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This is incredibly fascinating! I'll sink my teeth into this later!
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Feb 4, 2018 01:50
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I'm down to be a GM when my turn comes! For now, voting plan Magnusth
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Feb 5, 2018 19:54
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Nyaa posted:As current GM i declare removal of the room size limitation. It cull creativity of the newer gm and restrict them to the original rule, which is going against the spirit of the thread letting the next game master decides what he want to do. First and most importantly, you can draw a dick with 6 blocks just as easily. Second, don't be a butt.
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Feb 5, 2018 20:02
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CE, eat the soup
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Feb 6, 2018 15:16
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Nyaa posted:All room might reset when the MC dies and we will never made it to last boss. Zybourne Clock posted:I'm the GM. The players just voted to do something incredibly stupid/suicidal/both and They Must Be Punished. Can I kill the main character?
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Feb 6, 2018 16:38
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Nyaa posted:Choose your death till you auto win dracula. That is the game you signed for, yeah! Permadeath isn't part of the arrangement from minute one. Not being able to lose doesn't at all mean this story is guaranteed a happy ending, though, and the journey is the fun part.
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Feb 6, 2018 16:55
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BG
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Feb 8, 2018 01:20
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Come on now, C. Obviously.
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Feb 9, 2018 19:42
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Well used to supernatural attacks on your person, you don't rise to the Doppelganger’s bait. Instead, without even pausing to wipe the flecks of vomit from your mouth, you fire off a straight right jab, skin smouldering with contained energy. While generally you kept your distance in your battles with the legions of the dead, you'd been fortunate enough to receive training from a master of close quarters combat.
A wiry brute of a man, he'd taught you long ago that in a fight, nothing was disallowed. Your strikes are reckless and brutal, rendering them particularly effective against creatures slow enough for you to pound. 1B. Alirute the Zephyr A shrivelled old crone, she'd long ago been a master of the Path of Thirty Steps, a flowery, distracting martial art based on speed and precision blows. 1C. Kingol Sharkbeard A man - if you could call him a man - that fought the darkness and lost, and yet refused to quit. Massively warped and corrupted, his strange body has led to the development of an equally strange set of techniques. 1D. Bruce A drunkard you first encountered after he single handedly beat down a room of challengers. His techniques are simple, but undeniably effective.  Whichever you'd studied under, they hadn't prepared you for this. Where your fist would have made contact with the skull of an ordinary creature, it sank into the surface of the smiling demon's too-familiar face. Her skull split open like a flower, drawing your hand deeper before clamping shut around your lower arm. You reel in agony, but you close your fist around the fleshy tendrils within its distorted skull. It has the grace to look concerned as it realizes you are no mere layman, and now it tries to pull away from you - too late. You speak the words, invoking in your trapped fist the spirit of the Martyr Cleon, who perished in the Shrinking Box. His insane, claustrophobic ghost rages against the confines of the shapeshifter’s jaws, expanding its head grotesquely. And then, at last, the pressure is too much, and it bursts, releasing the howling soulflames to disperse into the hall. You crush the twitching remains of the Doppelganger then slump back against the wall. It had been one hell of a day, so far, and things weren't going quite as you expected. You never thought this would be easy, but you also didn't expect to be under attack so quickly. Dracula surely wished you dead - and yet, he hadn't killed you back there, and he could have. Well, that would have to be a matter for later consideration, because you had more pressing problems in the meantime. For one thing, that Fallen nun. To hear her speak, she was the one who had infected you with that parasite, for which she was duly apologetic… but on the other hand, you felt weaker and hungrier now than you had before her ministrations. It grieved you to think that your singular ally could be another fiendish trap of Dracul’s.
She'd tried her best to feed you, using whatever she could scrounge up - it wasn't as though she needed to eat, after all. Her kindness would sate you for now. 2B. Harden Your Heart A trick, or a foolish ghost trapped by the dark one. Either way, she could not be trusted - no one here could. Leave her behind to her dark fate. 1C. Vanquish Her That had been deliberate, for how could it not be so? Find her and end her unlife - you should have done it earlier.  Tidying yourself up as much as possible under the circumstances, you continued your exploration. Another door opened to reveal a cross-shaped room with alabaster pedestals in each alcove. Four in all, their surfaces concaved into shallow bowls filled with water. Peering through the crystal-clear surface of the liquid, you spied a crystalline disk at the center of each bowl. Going counter-clockwise from the door, the disks were topaz, ruby, emerald, and jet, and they caught the light as though a strange energy moved within them. Between them, in the center of the room, were four shallow, disk-shaped indentations. It didn't take a professional monster hunter to know that the disks had to be fitted into the divots in a particular order to trigger some mechanism, but it DID take one to know that it was highly suspicious. You paused a moment to consider your plan of action.
That was it you'd learned about the properties of gems again? Were the specific materials important, or merely color coding? 3B. Put Them In A Random Order Well, why not? What's the worst that could happen? 3C. Summon a Wraith with The Remembered Flame Avenges No one said they had to be used to kill. Consult an ancestor or a wise predecessor. 3D. Twist the Magic with The Ember Ignites a Thousand Flames Seize the innate magic and set it ablaze, then see what happens. 3E. Drink The Water It looks clean and pure, and your mouth is feeling sore and acidic from your earlier trials. 
Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 19:14 on Feb 11, 2018 |
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Feb 11, 2018 08:24
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This is fun! I enjoy how your choices are very different than I expected. edit: Also added art just for fun Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 18:49 on Feb 11, 2018 |
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Feb 11, 2018 17:56
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1A2A Reckless is my middle name. One of my middle names, anyhow.
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Feb 12, 2018 23:28
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Prince of Space posted:1B "Swear fealty to me, Rat King." Sure!
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Feb 14, 2018 21:05
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1A2A
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Feb 16, 2018 04:39
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Rockopolis posted:I can't loving write. I believe in you!
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Feb 20, 2018 04:25
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CFIL
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Feb 22, 2018 03:32
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You slumped against the cool stone of the hallway, rubbing a makeshift poultice against your wounds. You’d heal quickly - your training had given you that much, at least - but that didn’t do a lick for the pain. You pulled still-wriggling tendrils from your forearms, still wriggling and exuding a thin lime ichor. You crisped them with a thought. --- -amn thing was feeding on you! You caught a glimpse of the core of the thing, a bulbous white flower pulsating as its roots pushed you back under, driving the breath out of you. You couldn’t make your fire down here, not when you were so drenched, not when you couldn’t breathe! A fire needed air! A fire needed dryness! You gripped the vines and pulled, but your hands slipp- --- You stared up at the ceiling. Drowning would not be the way you wanted to go. Better to die in a fight, better to burn out in a blaze of glory than a slow, blue death. Sharkbeard had taught you to hold your breath anyhow, had made you learn to fight under water. Easy for him - he could survive down there for ages due to his… stigma. “Winny”, he’d called you, despite your annoyance, refusing to back down until she could beat him in a fight. By the time you could, you’d gotten rather used to it, and allowed him - and only him - to use it. “Winny,” he’d said, “You won’t always be fighting from a position of comfort. Sometimes, you’ll be short on breath. Sometimes, you’ll be wet. You can’t always depend on your magic, and when you can’t you’ll still have this. Come, once more.” --- -focused your will into your chest. Your lungs were the bellows of the great furnace of your rage, and they couldn’t stoke it with these vines lashed around your ribs. Your body screamed for air, but your body was stupid. You knew, precisely, how long you had left to live with the air already in your bloodstream, and you also knew your instincts were betraying you. Instincts had their place, but even instinct bowed before force of will. Your eyes snapped open, searching for something - anything - you could use. You were thrashed out of the water for a split second (add a split second of air to the tally) and, before you could be drawn back below, you saw a strange dagger through the roiling surface of the pond. You resisted the pull as long as possible, then pushed with it, guiding you to your goal. With your arms pinned to your sides, your options were limited - but you’d make do.  Bubbles of incadescent fury steaming between your clenched teeth, you got to wo- --- You chuckled as you recalled the scar Kingol had given you during one sparring match. During an especially heated exchange, the old bastard had bitten you. He’d apologized profusely, despite your reassurances, but for weeks afterwards you hadn’t seen him. You immediately assumed your mother had had something to do with it, but she’d denied it. Your relationship with your parents had been… fraught, at the time.
You were a teenager then, full of frustration and uncertainty and mistrust. You’d grown a lot in the intervening years, and your bond to your clan was stronger than ever. 1B. ...And They’d Only Gotten Worse Your mother was a taskmaster and cold besides. She had been the former Red Specter, and she expected nothing less of you. She worked you to the bone to get you to be what you were now, and she’d burned away every scrap of affection in the process. 1C. ...But That Was Life Your parents had been bossy and bothersome, but so were all parents. You weren’t bothered by much of that sort, and certainly not while you were working. 1D. ...But They’d Died Soon After The Whitegraves are ever casting themselves against the darkness, and one night they did not return. You grieved, but that was long ago. Only, nobody could find him. --- -writhed and shrieked in pain as you tore through its vines with your teeth-held knife until at last you were free! You leapt from the water, streaming blood from a hundred tiny cuts, and paused for a single heartbeat to get your grip on the situation. The white bloom had doubled again in size, gaining a labyrinthine tracery of red veins - no doubt filled with your blood. Cheeky! Knife still in your mouth, you launched yourself towards it. The bloom opened, revealing a polished wooden skull that rattled its jaws ominously at you. You slid your feet into a wide, heavy stance and spread your arms wide, fingers curled into claws like the teeth of a great beast. You slammed them together, the blood rushing in your ears like the roar of a great shark.  With the flower destroyed, the vines immediately went limp. Your fists still blazing from the heat of your last attack, you made your way through the Conservatory with a hideous purpose, crushing and burning through everything that moved, as well as the many, many things that didn’t. No clump of lettuce, no winsome flower could be trusted here. You cut down a tree with a stroke of your- --- Well. All things considered, that could have gone worse. You considered the parcel of plant extracts you’d managed to scavenge when you’d calmed down. The one nice thing about carnivorous plants was the curiously magical elements that allowed them to behave in such a predatory manner. You’d scooped out everything that looked reasonably interesting, though in truth your herb lore was somewhat lacking. Your teachers weren’t here right now, and you didn’t have access to books, so you’d simply have to work with whatever your memory provided and hold onto them until you had the means to properly process them.
2A. Kelo Nuts You were pretty sure these palm-sized brown seeds were Kelo Nuts - these could be mixed with water and boiled to make an invigorating potion… or heated dry until they burst into shrapnel. 2B. Rigwurst Anther Ground into dust, the pollen could be used to slow a heartbeat - or stop it. You’d been taught how to use a potion containing it as a powerful sedative, but raw it was risky to use. It was so light that a gentle wind could blow it dangerously off course. 2C. Carnivorous Vine… Vine The vine had been tough and aggressive, and even dead the thing maintained some useful properties. In a pinch, you could use it as a rope. You were certain that if you treated it you could enchant it to entangle things on its own. 2D. Carnivorous Vine Petal Waterproof and stiff, the pale ivory petals still gleamed with veins of your own blood. If nothing else, it was good to remove such things from circulation - it would be a shame to have them used against you - but you felt certain with time you could affix them to your armor for another layer of protection against magical attacks. 2E. Carnivorous Vine Skull Fragments When the flower had bloomed, you’d glimsped this skull, slick like green wood under the bark, traced with crimson tendrils feeding it your blood. You hadn’t the foggiest what it was trying to do, but you had the oddest notion that if you managed to replace a skeleton’s head with it, it would follow your commands. That grazed the surface of foul Necromancy, but The Remembered Flame Avenges was surely close enough, and you’d made good use of that already. 2F. Scramboo Shoot A long spear of the stuff, it was stiff and iron-hard. It still bore its drillseed at the tip, good - with judicious application of heat, the seed would be projected outwards by a puff of ignited gas. In a pinch, it was as good as a rifle - though only for one shot.
The dagger’s edge wasn’t just sharp, it was sharp. You weren’t sure what else it could do, but it could sure as hell cut stuff. 3B. Particularly Balanced The balance on the thing was unreal - it felt like an extension of your hand. When you dropped it once experimentally, you felt as though it were attracted to your hand… but then gravity took it and it fell. Worth experimenting with. 3C. Particularly Heavy Your teeth still ached from when you picked the thing up. What was it made of, granite!? Through some trick of the enchantment or internal mechanism, when held in your hand it felt a little lighter, but still much heavier than it ought to have been. Wha? 3D. Particularly Adequate Your vast knowledge of magic and weaponry lead you to believe… that it’s merely a very well made dagger. Perfectly useful in a fight, but not magical by any means. Oh well. You awoke after a fitful dream, clutching a talisman you’d been given in your youth. A shark’s tooth. Kingol had come back after a long absence, looking worse for the wear. He looked haunted, and he couldn’t meet your eyes. You’d hugged the old fellow, glad to see him, and then - mischievously - you’d bitten him, your teeth scoring against the patches of denticles that marred his skin. He’d laughed and thrown you into the air, and you had a teacher again. One day, after a particularly exhausting session, he’d given you the talisman - one of his own teeth, ‘broken off when he’d bitten your rangy hide’, he said. You didn’t know if it was true, but it didn’t matter. It was a comfort, in this gloomy place. You stood up, stretched, and cracked your knuckles - enough lying around. You considered the tower once more. The Forest Green sigil could have meant “Knowledge” or “Corruption”, but it seemed preeetty clear that the correct reading was Corruption in this case. You cast your eyes upwards at the Blood Red sigil and shrugged. You’d go through all of them, in time, but the blacked out entry lay in that direction anyhow. Two birds with one stone. You began the climb, dagger held loosely in one fist. You passed the landing with the Violet sigil - later - and at length stood before your destination. “Sustenance” or “Slavery”, along with the crimson fire limning the gate, gave you an ominious sensation. You sensed a great evil beyond the gate, the likes of which that made the creatures you’d encountered so far (apart from the Great Evil himself, naturally) seem like mere housecats. And yet, you’d come here to vanquish evil - you weren’t stopping now. Your closed a cautious hand around the over-large, iron doorknob, and twisted. Locked. You stared at it dumbfounded for a second before belatedly noticing a keyhole tucked below the doorknob. You twisted it again, annoyed, your fists heating in frustration, but although it glowed a cherry red it did not relent. It was locked tight. Somehow, of all the irritations Dracula had ladled upon you, this seemed the pettiest. Why would he lock the door? He lived (“lived”) alone, and everyone else within these walls was his servant. What was behind this door that he could possibly be hiding that he couldn’t have put behind heavy iron grating - he could turn to mist! He had no need of mundane locking mechanisms! You kicked it, and were rewarded with naught but a sore foot for your efforts. A sore foot, and a deep bass growl and the clink of chains from beyond the door.
It was a very heavy lock, and you were without proper tools, but you were clever. Maybe you’d sort something out. 4B. Blast The Door Off Its Hinges Strike out with directionless power - none of your spells were particularly well suited towards sieging a stubborn door. 4C. Head to the Violet Sigil of “Weaponry” or “Preparation” Instead There had to be a key somewhere. May as well start nearby. 4D. Cast The Flame Knight’s Steed You didn’t need to unlock this bloody door. You could simply teleport through it! You assessed your location versus the marked location of the blacked out entry - it could work. 4E. Climb Higher The staircase of the tower went even higher - you couldn’t see the peak through a deep fog. Perhaps you’d find a key up there? 
Dog Kisser fucked around with this message at 03:11 on Feb 23, 2018 |
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Feb 22, 2018 22:09
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Posted art - might do a Sharkbeard picture later just for funsies
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Feb 23, 2018 03:12
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A B Argh I forgot to vote earlier
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Feb 25, 2018 15:36
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1b2c
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Mar 1, 2018 04:28
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D yeah that's pretty cool
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Mar 5, 2018 17:01
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CG
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Mar 7, 2018 19:47
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Bee Bonk posted:Chaotic
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Mar 7, 2018 20:37
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Bee Bonk posted:F: The only song for a vampire dance-off is Johannes Brahms' Hungarian Dance No. 5. Yeah, that's a good one!
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Mar 16, 2018 16:48
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See, our mistake was fighting him on his own terms. Of course he's an amazing dancer, and those shoes just make him even better. We should fight fire with fire: Do we have any wraiths that are good dancers?
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Mar 18, 2018 05:49
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