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Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written  (Read 258896 times)

penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #930 on: April 09, 2016, 05:14:55 pm »

Holy fuck, I jump!
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Toaster

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #931 on: April 09, 2016, 07:29:32 pm »

((Now you dun it))

"Fair enough, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and all that... say, I should probably get some myself.  Shouldn't I be hungry by now?"

Am I hungry?  Betting no, but go look for some grub anyway.
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #932 on: April 10, 2016, 01:37:43 am »

"See, that magic word is so unreliable I can't bear it. And I wasted perfectly profitable relationship for it."
Leif grabs the wine bottle.
"Yeah, I guess we can postpone it a bit. It's not like your death now or later will make any difference. Who's One, by the way?"
He eyes its content with disdain.
"This tastes like shit. I really prefer my minded vodka. So much better."
Enjoy my own fruity drink variant.
"Right, so what we were doing? A raport? Where do I start from? Death of minders, or how I slapped life out of the last one? The hungry thing in the well and how it made us? Is that Jack Daniels who I'm hearing?"
Wonder where to begin, be distracted by Mr. Daniels shouting good questions.
« Last Edit: April 10, 2016, 01:39:15 am by AoshimaMichio »
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Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #933 on: April 11, 2016, 12:29:54 pm »

"Thanks, guard person guy or perhaps woman, I'm not really paying attention."

Jack lifts the trumpet up to his mouth.

"Ahem. STOAT PEOPLE! WHY EXACTLY DO YOU WANT TO KILL EVERYONE IN THIS CASTLE? I ONLY JUST GOT HERE AND I'M A UNSURE AS TO YOUR REASONS."

Loud speaking trumpet-assisted question asking!

[Stating Your Words With Clarity: 6]

You see a considerable response among the stoats. First of all, a volley of bolts to answer your acoustic sorcery. You duck behind a parapet, largely safe from the bits of wood and metal peppering the battlements. You get back out and repeat the request. This time it seems to occur to them that you are not using some terrible words of magic on them, judging from the lack of horrible death coming their way, though they're not sure yet, clearly, as another bunch of warning shots bounce off the walls near you. You try a third time, and a stoat steps forward, shouting something back at you.

[Sharp Eyes And Keen Ears: 1]

Fuck if you know what that one's on about, though. You think you hear something about fear and surrender and blood. Then that one gets cut off by a different one, screaming something else about death and terror. Then that one gets slapped upside the head by another one that starts banging on about peace. And then there's a bunch of other fellows sprinting over, looking very armored and quite pissed off at the response of these obvious underlings.

Holy fuck, I jump!

[Between Us And Perdition: 2]

You don't think you'll make it, faltering before the jump. You could have made it, you realize immediately afterwards. You're not sure you can make it now, however. The distance has grown at this point, uncomfortably so. Bubbles pop into impressions of high places, drops that have menaced you in the past. It grows further still.

Oh dear, you need to move quickly. Perhaps... you can catch onto something else? There is rather a lot of rubble around here, some of it floating in quite unusual patterns, emerging from and flying into obscuring light in turn. Maybe it could be helpful. Maybe it'll drop you into the sea, where you will fall forever into nonexistence.

((Now you dun it))

"Fair enough, breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and all that... say, I should probably get some myself.  Shouldn't I be hungry by now?"

Am I hungry?  Betting no, but go look for some grub anyway.

[Hungry Are The Damned: 3]

You could go for a bit of food, yes. Getting a mite peckish. You suppose the kitchen ought to have something for you.

[Spot of Lunch: 6]

And they do! You ask a restless chef if they have something for you, and they seem incredibly pleased. They do have something for you! Something quite wonderful, in fact. Wait right here!

The chef sprints off, and a little time later returns, your breakfast in hand. It seems to be a black matte bowl filled with an equally black matte, slightly fuzzy substance. At the base of it is a small knob. The chef hands it to you with black-stained fingers, then when you give him a suspicious look hands you a spoon. Eat up, he says! 100% nutrition guaranteed or your money back.

"See, that magic word is so unreliable I can't bear it. And I wasted perfectly profitable relationship for it."
Leif grabs the wine bottle.
"Yeah, I guess we can postpone it a bit. It's not like your death now or later will make any difference. Who's One, by the way?"
He eyes its content with disdain.
"This tastes like shit. I really prefer my minded vodka. So much better."
Enjoy my own fruity drink variant.
"Right, so what we were doing? A raport? Where do I start from? Death of minders, or how I slapped life out of the last one? The hungry thing in the well and how it made us? Is that Jack Daniels who I'm hearing?"
Wonder where to begin, be distracted by Mr. Daniels shouting good questions.

A report, yes, indeed you are making a report! Start from whichever event is earliest and... bloody hell, what's that racket? The knight pops his head out of the tent, then looks back in. Looks like there's some more business out there.

[Wise Course of Action: 4]

You stay there, good fellow. Explain the whole and unadulterated version of events to the memorizer. He'll meanwhile go off and take a look. Don't do anything silly, now. That would be most inadvisable. Most inadvisable indeed! The knight runs off and you hear heavy steps as he sprints away, seemingly terribly interested in Mr. Daniels' shouting.

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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #934 on: April 11, 2016, 01:07:54 pm »

"Allright then. Now listen well, boy, because I'm not gonna repeat this. Daddy is gonna beat you if you forget anything. In the beginning..."

Being comfortably drunk start telling the tale. Very abridged version of Brief History of Time, starting from Big Bang and ending with what I know/think I know about the situation here. Because everything is relevant. If I leave out dinosaur extinction then how I can explain my existance? It's very relevant for my existance.
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penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #935 on: April 11, 2016, 01:19:49 pm »

Gah, I think I need to loosen the laws of physics a little more. "CHAOS!" Then I whip out the sword arm and try to use it to cimb my way up.
« Last Edit: April 11, 2016, 07:13:54 pm by penguinofhonor »
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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #936 on: April 11, 2016, 01:57:31 pm »

((It's almost sad how much you have gotten 2's lately.))
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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #937 on: April 11, 2016, 02:04:42 pm »

"Ah good, some clarification hopefully."

Wait for these superiors to explain the siege situation. If needed, repeat my request. Don't get shot or anything, obviously.
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TopHat

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #938 on: April 11, 2016, 03:36:16 pm »

"Ah, so they've moved? Do you know where they've gone?"
A lead amidst the tragedy?

In this event it's best to leave a plan of action behind, which will then be fully resolved upon your return.
((I'll keep that in mind in the future, though it's a bit late now. In any case, 'a few days' was a bit of an overestimate so no harm done.))
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I would ask why fire can burn two men to death without getting hot enough to burn a book, but then I read "INEXTINGUISHABLE RUNNING KAMIKAZE RADIOACTIVE FLAMING ZOMBIE" and realized that logic, reason, and physics are all occupied with crying in the corner right now.

Toaster

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #939 on: April 11, 2016, 04:15:45 pm »

Uhm.  Well.  Uhhh... fine, sure.

Om nom nom
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.

Harry Baldman

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #940 on: April 12, 2016, 01:30:29 pm »

"Allright then. Now listen well, boy, because I'm not gonna repeat this. Daddy is gonna beat you if you forget anything. In the beginning..."

Being comfortably drunk start telling the tale. Very abridged version of Brief History of Time, starting from Big Bang and ending with what I know/think I know about the situation here. Because everything is relevant. If I leave out dinosaur extinction then how I can explain my existance? It's very relevant for my existance.

[A Comprehensive Report: 1]

Where to start? In the beginning, say you, there was an event they call the big bang, and boy was the name apt. All the gods got together and then they-

Where'd the gods come from, asks the guard. You blow a raspberry at him for so rudely interrupting. The gods, you sneer! They came from lots of places. Some popped out of frost giants. Some were frost giants. Or are frost giants. It's not really clear how a god and a frost giant differ, physiologically. And then there's a lad or two who went and got themselves licked out of blocks of ice - by a cow, actually. But the point is, they got together and then they-

Skip ahead, the guard says. To the relevant bits and whatnot. Fuck you, you reply, who's telling the story here?

[Disciplinary Measures: 4 vs. 4]

You lean forward to smack the fucker upside the head for his insolence and he aims a foot square at your nuts - being incredibly drunk, you kind of just fall on him before he can execute a proper kick, and after a short tussle you both sort of whirl toward different corners of the room. He lands on a vase, breaking it. You upset a small pile of pilfered garbage. He takes a moment to get himself into proper order. You don't really bother, just giving him a fist of honor as you sit up and stumble to your feet.

Okay, he says. Let you and him start over. You quit being cheeky, y'hear, and he'll not have the moral obligation to punt you in your cheeky nuts, eh? He's got places to be. Real soon, you know.

Gah, I think I need to loosen the laws of physics a little more. "CHAOS!" Then I whip out the sword arm and try to use it to cimb my way up.

You don't suppose it could hurt to get some more sorcery in here. Looks like the environment ought to be amenable to it, anyway, having little defined shape at the moment.

CHAOS

[Word: 2]

SEA

You don't feel this is quite productive as the response comes from the bright void. The sea below emits a powerful musical tone, another spray of annihilating light going past you.

CHAOS

An echo, you believe. A restating of the founding facts of this little mouth of uncreation. It is shockingly coherent for something so haphazardly thrown together. You should probably leave now.

[An Inconsistent Reach: 1]

Whipping out your blade arm, you try and hook it onto a nearby piece of rubble, but one of the light bubbles interferes, nicked by pure accident. Regardless, the arm stops in place, immovable by your hand for a long second as it begins to recall a history of sorts. Two centuries of its original purpose come flooding out as a wave of blood, ichor and fear. It feels right at home in this strange atmosphere, splitting into rich red and black ribbons, gore serpents forming with the final expressions of unwary plunderers and witless pilgrims on their faces, their last screams repeating over and over again like vicious bloody birdsong.

Thirteen and a half lives claimed. The first one, executed with perfection, humanity excised with a single stroke. It laughs, freed of an eternity of being forgotten. The tenth, once garbed in steel. The first sign of dullness. He died for hours, unable to move. Its suffering is well-aged indeed, and well-recorded by stone and iron alike. The others, their memories less clear, form a choir of similar screams, a backing for the others.

And then there is the last one, a half-serpent. Stunted, what little features of it can be discerned are undoubtedly yours, its alien blood giving rise to the most hideous screaming of all. It circles you aggressively, much closer than the others and with no doubt about its intent. You sense a burning desire for completion emanating from it.

"Ah good, some clarification hopefully."

Wait for these superiors to explain the siege situation. If needed, repeat my request. Don't get shot or anything, obviously.

[Opening of Negotiations: 1]

It takes a while for the superiors to get their shouts in order, and for someone to fashion a speaking trumpet out of a particularly oddly-shaped plundered helmet on the spur of the moment, and for a few stoatmen to make a stoatman pyramid for one of the commanders to stand on so that their voice may carry better, and then about a minute more while everyone quiets down and a basis of communication is established.

Human, shouts the tallest stoat commander present from atop the pyramid, having established her supremacy over the others through cunning argument, physical presence and slight violence. Your queen bears the weight of the crimes of the old state, ones that can only be repaid by her gruesome execution. Similarly, the people of this castle are responsible for harboring the last of the royal bloodline, and have thus incurred the everlasting wrath of the new state. Surrender and die with efficiency.

If you do not, you will be starved to helplessness within the month, at which point your walls will be breached, your men and women will be captured, fed and nourished to fullness and good health, then tortured to death over a period of months in order to excise their crimes from this world. Their corpses will be fashioned into preserved works of sculpture to be set up in Anglefork in order to commemorate the victory of the new state for the next fifty years. Any of their descendants and relatives will suffer the same fate at a time of their local governor's choosing. Their names and legacies will be stricken from record afterward, and their existence will be invalidated forevermore, as will yours.

If you do surrender, however, your deaths will be quick and painless and your bodies will not be put on display, and no examples shall be made of any of your relatives or potential loved ones (aside from the ones that really ask for it).

Furthermore, any further minder interference will carry dire repercussions for the remnants of their order both in the new state and abroad. Surrender now, lest you fall under the shadow of the One.

That is all.

"Ah, so they've moved? Do you know where they've gone?"
A lead amidst the tragedy?

He does not. It would be desirable if someone were to find out for him. If you do happen to discover anything on the topic, report back to his office immediately for a reward. Incentivizing such initiative is a vital part of guard captaincy. The girl perks up a little at this. What if she were to bring this information and a full ring of castle keys to his office, she asks. Compound incentives, the captain replies, awarded according to a strict tier system.

Now, if that will be all, he still has seven minutes and twelve seconds of walking to attend to before he can return to work.

Uhm.  Well.  Uhhh... fine, sure.

Om nom nom

[Treats of Mystery: 3]

It tastes salty-sweet, with a touch of moldiness. The chef watches with incredible curiosity, urging you on to eat quickly. Best to force as much of it down before your stomach realizes something's up in their experience.

Quite a few servants gather round as you eat, seemingly also very interested in your dietary habits. Some pat the chef on the back, whispering to them surreptitiously as you get to the bottom of the bowl and feel absolutely no richer or poorer for it (or, rather, you feel simultaneously as full as your queasiness allows you to be, lingering on the very edge of nascent nausea).

You thank the chef for their offering mostly out of politeness, eliciting a hoot of approval from the servants a few seconds afterwards. The chef raises their arms in what is obviously a victorious pose after a few seconds. The kitchen comes alive with rising cheers, and is followed by the chef and quite a few servants running off in a group. You're not really sure what that's about, to be honest.

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penguinofhonor

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #941 on: April 12, 2016, 02:04:42 pm »

Why. Why why why.

Okay, time for desperate measures. Maybe some moderate personal injury. I produce an explosive cyst. Then I throw it directly down and jump at the same time, in hopes that the explosion will propel me upward and toward the tunnel.
« Last Edit: April 12, 2016, 03:10:40 pm by penguinofhonor »
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AoshimaMichio

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #942 on: April 12, 2016, 02:50:18 pm »

Spoiler: You glorious bastard (click to show/hide)

Action later.
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Xantalos

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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #943 on: April 12, 2016, 04:25:09 pm »

"If I give you the Queen will you agree to not kill me? I could go get her right now if you want. But if you're just gonna kill me anyway I don't see any reason not to butcher the lot of you and dress myself in your skinned faces." Not that I really want to or anything, you see, but if you're gonna kill me anyway I'm not gonna sit back and let you.
...
Oh, I'm technically not a resident of Anglefork, and in fact I might not even be human. Would you still kill me?"


Friendly negotiation!
« Last Edit: April 13, 2016, 12:07:01 am by Xantalos »
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Re: Our Salvation: What I Bring Is Light
« Reply #944 on: April 12, 2016, 11:52:35 pm »

Just don't think about it.

"Yes, yes, I have most certainly had my meal now.  Thank you, but I must depart."

Abscond mightily.  Try not to think about it.  Maybe some water to wash it down?
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HMR stands for Hazardous Materials Requisition, not Horrible Massive Ruination, though I can understand how one could get confused.
God help us if we have to agree on pizza toppings at some point. There will be no survivors.
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