(Fair enough. Is the idea of keeping things abstract extended to, say, the contents of the caravan? Are we allowed to take inventory of that? I get the impression we wouldn't be allowed to define the outside world too much- at least not without your permission, but right now it seems like anyone can just 'find' whatever they need, to a certain extent, in the caravan. TL;DR: are we allowed to lock the fort inventory stuff down by defining what we do and don't have? Am I allowed to become a bookkeeper? Of course, you'd decide what we actually have, being the GM... Sorry for not knowing what's going on ._.)
(My character is currently doing inventory, so this is soon going to be abated.)
((Is there a GM? I thought this was more freeform.))
(Kind of, I know more about the outside events, so I could be classified as one for knowing when various 'random' events should occur, and more details about some of the opponents, so I could know when they act, but that is it. Hugo's probably going to be coming in from time to time to do the same thing, and possibly control a couple NPC's from time to time.)
(However, since individual plotlines will develop, each person will be the GM of their own little plotline, though you may want to contact me or (possibly) Hugo to see if we can help get it tied into the main plotline.)
(Also, after taking a glance through the old thread, I seem to find we may be a bit lacking on the descriptive side in comparison to the old thread(s).
Corai charged, and plunged his microsidian spear through the Master's chest where the heart should be, telling the kobolds to get up. None did.
"It....wont...come...OUT!" he said, trying to pull out his spear. He eventully gets it loose, forcing the robe to fall off.
Corai passes out again.
Deep in the earth, Roead awoke in his tomb. Cursing the darkness, he wished he had been buried with a match. Then he thought striking one would probably light him like a torch now, so he thought no more about it. Roead fumbled along the wall, feeling for the hollow spot. It had felt like someone had been digging down here, so that woke him up. After a few minutes of knocking, he finally found the point. With one hard punch he smashed a hole through the thin wall of rock. "Bloody poor masons," he grumbled.
Dim light from the fortress hallway streamed in, but to him it was plenty bright, having been in absolute darkness a moment ago. He looked at his hand. It was brown-yellow, and extremely shriveled. "Gugh. Not too eager to see what my face looks like."
Looking back into the tomb, he saw his burial presents. A small, crude clay pot and 3 rabbit skeletons. "Well, what was I bloody expecting. Honestly, though, one'd think ANYONE could do better than this." With a half-hearted, resigned gesture he animated these pets. Right, lets go see who the bloody hell caused all this racket. Man can't bloody well sleep, can he?
Kofthefens heard footsteps. His heart skipped a beat when a mummy clad in shoddy clothes came around the corner. "Anyone tell me what year it is? Be quick about it damnit! I am very cranky."
Eric jogged excitedly up from the depths, and climbed the stairs along the exterior of the massive pit, and headed for the dining hall. Along the way, he couldn't help but notice he was about the only person in the fortress who was in a good mood. Everyone he passed was stumbling haphazardly through the halls. One dwarf who had been considering heading down the stairs around the pit had stopped at the top of the stairs and lay now on their belly, just hanging their head over the edge and staring into the abyss below with dead, uncaring eyes. Eventually Eric stopped to ask a woman what the hell was going on.
"T' m'ch buz"
"Too much buzz? What, mosquitoes get'cha?"
"Beooze..." The dwarf then promptly vomited on the wall beside her, which was actually much better communication than anything else she could do.
"I... Suppose we don't have to worry about a massive surplus any time soon, then..." He said as he sidestepped around the dwarf who was now throwing off her vomit-soaked overcoat. She slumped against the wall and watched him jog up the hall, making her dizzy again.
Eric finally found somebody he fully recognized; slumped outside the dining room was Hugo, accompanied by an unfortunate gathering of bad-tempered individuals such as Roead and Vemini.
"Guys! Guess what?! There were 10 people down in the lower sections of the fort, and they're all in good health. They, uh, did leave somebody to die under a pillar on their way down, though, and buried her down there. They'll probably be on their way up soon, too. Lots of extra supplies, which is good since you probably wiped out the alcohol last night..."
Roead spat back without skipping a beat, "We didn't do anything! It was these damn dwarves getting piss-faced drunk. Do you have any idea how much damage they caused?"
"Ah, alright then. Suppose I'll probably have no crew to work with today..."
"That and you need to do something about the ruffians that punched Hugo here in the face, and crashed the damn party." Vemini said, accompanied by an accusing glare.
"Why me? Didn't you volunteer to deal with criminals? You leaving?"
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Topic: If Bay Forum were a Mountain Hall Part 3: the Second Group... (Timeskip done) (Read 79318 times)