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[Xantalos]

Actually, I will from now on. This instance was done more out of habit.

Hell, if you're going to do that, why not hide every roll outside of combat?
Actually nah. How about hiding every roll to do with observation? Any kind of observation. Seeing whether there's traps, whether the bomb you made works, stuff like that.

[Harry Baldman]

Pretty much what I'm going to do, yes. When you get an observation roll, you will not see it from now on. You won't even know that you got a roll in the first place in most cases.

[killerhellhound]

write
"upgrades to your body and magic items follow me"
lead him back to the castle
if I get him to the castle "now any specific upgrades you want?" do the upgrades he asks for

[Harry Baldman]

In the streets of Emlocke...

Mark gives a note to Tom describing his potential offerings.

[Tom reaction roll: 6]

"Cool. I'll gladly follow you, weird tree-man! I have always wanted death ray eyes!"

He follows Mark back to the tower and into his room, at which point Mark writes a query related to his wishes.

"Well, I want death ray eyes! Woo! And giant metal claws!"

Well, the customer is always right.

[Mark medicine roll: 4]

He doesn't seem to have any metal claws around that he could use, but there is a jar with two death ray eyes lying around in the lab. Mark carefully removes Tom's old eyes and puts the death ray ones in. When Tom gets up, he tests his newfound abilities on the nearby wall. They work great, blowing out a significant chunk of the wall in a split second.

"Well, I'm kinda sad about the lack of claws, but I guess I'll manage. Thanks for the death ray eyes, dude!"

Tom then proceeds to leave quickly, getting out of the room and diving through the wall he came in through.

[killerhellhound]

I run out and grab tom dragging him back in to melt the snakes down for claws for him and a set of claws for me (dont attach my claws)

[Onyxjew944]

Check how my memory of those books is. Do I actually need them to continue my foci-making?

If not, and I'm presuming not, crawl to the dining room.

"Come on... Just a little farther... I can become anything I want to be... Just need a little bit of dead flesh..."

[Harry Baldman]

Inside the Tower of the Artiste...

Mark is about to run after Tom, seeking to provide more services unto him! However, as he attempts to pursue his runaway test subject, he is stopped in the basement room by the Artiste.

"Wait, Mark! I have something urgent for your attention! Come here!"

He smiles at the tree-headed skeleton, beckoning him.


In a magical library...

Tom thinks about the books. How well does he remember them, truly? Well enough to recite at will? Well enough to keep to its spirit? It's a rather good question, really. If he had to guess, he'd say it's well enough to remember the juiciest bits, and at the end of the day, is that not what truly matters?

[Will roll: 1-2]

He laughs at his own joke, his lack of lungs making it a soundless gesture. He tries to crawl forward, but a curious wave of powerlessness and apathy assails him. Why does he need to go anywhere, anyway? He's perfectly fine right here. Exploded and mostly dead, but perfectly fine all the same. Moreso, perhaps. There is a certain lack of urgency about dying that one can grow to appreciate. So Tom, rather than get bent out of shape about it, lies back and enjoys the ride, closing his eyes.

As his eyelids fall shut, the angelic sounds of flames consuming vast swathes of land and the shrill screaming of a thousand burning people fill his ears. His spirit lifts at the sound, abandoning the humble shell of a body it formerly inhabited. Carried on the wave of a mighty backdraft, Tom leaves the mortal realm with all possible haste, the cries of the dying and mutilated escorting him on his blazing trail across the aether. Floating across infinite expanses of impenetrable, shimmering mist, Tom's soul, contained in a cradle of crackling flames held together by mystical chains, eventually comes to a rest, and the tortured screaming in his mind eventually lulls him into a perpetual sweet dreaming.

Tom has suffered a death by exploding crystals. You don't see that every day!

Spoiler: GM Note (click to show/hide)

Damn it all, dice, why do you insist on killing my players so much?

[Tomcost]

((I smell a new chapter soon!!!. If Mark Survives, I want him to be a ĦĦDoctor!!, but I don't know if I will let my character to "improved" by him. Anyway get the ĦĦMedicine!! perk))

[killerhellhound]

listen to the demon lord

[Harry Baldman]

In the Tower of the Artiste...

Mark listens to what the Artiste has to say with some curiosity. The Artiste tilts his head and smiles coyly.

"Aw, look at you. You thought we forgot, didn't you?"

Uhm... forgot what?

Suddenly, the rest of the mages, Bernie included, jump at Mark and yell "happy birthday" a bit more loudly than Mark is strictly comfortable with! Colorful streamers pour from the ceiling down on him, and the mages all give him a nice group hug.

"Happy birthday, Mark! We'd never forget your birthday. After all, we're your friends. Friends remember each other's birthdays! Look, we even got you a nice cake! It is rich in nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium, so I'm sure you'll love it!"

And there is indeed a very odd-looking cake standing on a nearby table that seems to have materialized out of nowhere. In addition, balloons and a giant banner commemorating this event have similarly appeared from thin air.

[Tomcost]

((Wait, what??. Killerhellhound, is today your birthday?))

[Onyxjew944]

((Heh, and I was about to attach about sixty pounds of mutilated lunchmeat to myself to become a pseudo-frankenstein, too. What a bother.

Still, death by explosion is probably how I would have gone out anyway.))

Spoiler: waitlist (click to show/hide)

Name: Chanticleer
Gender: Male
Archetype: Vampire
Biography: Chanticleer is the son of a dairy farmer and a harlet. This union worked out about as well as expected. That is to say they are happily married to this day. Chanticleer was the thirty-third son of questionable parentage. His early life was spent as a child could be expected to. His undeath came at age thirty-two after fifteen faithful years of being a bum. Who would have thought allergies to cheese could possibly be fatal? Chanticleer didn't.

((Oh, and Mark, I do believe all of those things are explosive when exposed to air or water depending on the metal. Well, except for the nitrogen. I think that is just poisonous. No, no wait. It's only a compound of many poisons. Also many explosives. Convenient.))

[killerhellhound]

In the Tower of the Artiste...



Suddenly, the rest of the mages, Bernie included, jump at Mark and yell "happy birthday"

! Look, we even got you a nice cake! It is rich in nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium, so I'm sure you'll love it!"

Mark writes "What is nitrogen, phosphorous,and potassium?"
((GM why are you trying to kill me I dont want to die ))

[Tomcost]

In the Tower of the Artiste...



Suddenly, the rest of the mages, Bernie included, jump at Mark and yell "happy birthday"

! Look, we even got you a nice cake! It is rich in nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium, so I'm sure you'll love it!"

Mark writes "What is nitrogen, phosphorous,and potassium?"
((GM why are you trying to kill me I dont want to die ))

You are a metal skeleton with a tree for a head, just say that you can't eat it because you don't have a mouth.

[killerhellhound]

In the Tower of the Artiste...



Suddenly, the rest of the mages, Bernie included, jump at Mark and yell "happy birthday"

! Look, we even got you a nice cake! It is rich in nitrogen, phosphorous and potassium, so I'm sure you'll love it!"

Mark writes "What is nitrogen, phosphorous,and potassium?"
((GM why are you trying to kill me I dont want to die ))

You are a metal skeleton with a tree for a head, just say that you can't eat it because you don't have a mouth.

why can I never think of great stuff like this do it