Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 262345 times)

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1380 on:** July 27, 2016, 04:14:41 pm »

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on July 26, 2016, 05:21:14 am

Time to get my concert gear ready, because soon I'll have audience of ages: jötnar, Æsir, Vanir, dwarfs and other monsters.

Burning cathedral, check.

Mammoth speakers, check.

Excellent playlist of crowd-pleasing metal on a respectable laptop hooked up to mammoth speakers, check.

Studded Norse-chic harness suspended in front of the speakers for your use during the concert, check.

Electric axe hooked up to speakers but muted so you don't make a fool of yourself flailing around with it, check.

Yep, you're just about ready. Maybe you should set it to play so that the gods/other gods/frost giants/more things than your philosophy can possibly account for have a grand entrance.

Quote from: TopHat on July 26, 2016, 11:50:46 am

"Not exactly. Given the nature of his disappearence, it seems highly likely to me that paranormal forces were involved. We have also discovered a connection between recent magical events and something beneath this castle, which I am currently preparing to investigate. Worryingly enough, it seems the impact on this... thing below us, could pose a threat to everyone living here. Is there anything I've forgotten, Ms. Deirdre?"
Report.

Deirdre seems very much content to let you field this one, especially since your version of the events involved seems better than what she could think up.

[The Inquisition: 1]

The captain seems to take slow and careful note of what you say to him, and slowly nods. This is acceptable. There is no need to investigate the areas beneath the castle. Far too dangerous for civilian investigators. Considerably too dangerous for professional investigators. Especially if something is stirring down there.

As for paranormal forces, do elaborate. There are many that could be responsible. Have you more precise information?

Quote from: Xantalos on July 26, 2016, 01:35:42 pm

Oooh, I remember him being very afraid of me. Good.

"Hey majordomo! I've a question for you! You can even keep your clothes this time!"

Ask majordomo about the guard lady. He commands servants and stuff, he probably knows or at least suspects something.

You walk up to the man and pose your question, and he doesn't even look in your direction. You wave a hand in front of his face. He fails to react. The red-haired guard next to him suggests that the majordomo is somewhat busy at the moment. So you step in front of the majordomo and give him your best murder-glare, your sharpened thought tapping on the back of his skull as you angle and widen one eye in your best imitation of a half-blind murderhobo. He scratches his head with an expression of mild annoyance.

You know, this is starting to get a bit ridiculous.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on July 26, 2016, 05:11:13 pm

So many places to go. If only I knew what any of them were.

And they're all so far away! Distance is such an inconvenient concept. If I could disrupt spatial order for just a minute, maybe "further" and "closer" wouldn't be so strictly defined. Good thing I can do that!

I would like to contact my travel agent, CHAOS.

You're not sure that's exactly within your power to do, but what could the harm be in trying it out anyway? It's great to be pure

CHAOS

[Word: 3]

The sign vibrates as you invoke the power of disorder and entropy upon it, spinning three times around in its position. When it comes to a rest, you find it is now pointing in considerably different directions. Well, that and the measurements are now an admixture of feet and meters, and the letters are jumbled.

On the bright side, now you know the way to Necwarkity. Straight north, 4321 meters and about 16.8E5 feet. The rest are a little hard to decipher.

Quote from: Toaster on July 26, 2016, 05:27:56 pm

"Wait! I have a... messenger from the castle. He's in this sword, see?"

Show them the sword. Try to do so non-threateningly. Maybe also run if the other two do that.

[The Sword We Fear: 6]

You show the sword in a way you've seen in a great many poses from terrible fantasy art, pommel forward, blade turned downward. Its grayness reflects in the eyes of the stout fellows. They stare at it, faces frozen, mouths hanging open. This lasts for a few moments.

Wait, brothers, says one stout man in armor, the sword speaks well! But is it the one? Look at the unworthy intruder holding it! How would one such as he defeat the one? This does not make sense, he says, dumping the other stout fellow he was carrying on the ground to step forward. Have no fear, says he. This is clearly some minder trick. Look, he says with a gleam in his eye, the other stout fellows following him with hopeful eyes as he places one of his stubby hands on the blade.

You hear the wind shift in a most unseasonable manner, ruffling your hair slightly as you feel a slight pull in your hands. You get the feeling something unusual just happened, but cannot quite place it before you notice that the stout fellow doesn't seem to be in front of you anymore. Or next to you. Or behind you. Or anywhere in the alleyway, in fact. Though his shadow is still on the ground, the reminder of your stare sending it reeling into the darkness of a more shadowy corner.

The stout fellows, meanwhile, are staring at the blade still. Well, except for the one on the ground. That one looks mostly unconscious still. You are tempted to congratulate them on their friend's impressive trick, but the expressions on their faces seem to indicate they are as surprised as you are.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)

Xantalos · « **Reply #1381 on:** July 27, 2016, 04:29:48 pm »

"Yeah, I've about had it with this bullshit."

Slap a bitch.

Action plan for while Xantalos is away:
-find guard lady, by extensive interrogation/intimidation of everyone in sight if I need to. Refrain from causing physical damage (majordomo aside) for now unless people are being really stupid.
-after guard lady is found, go on looting expedition with her. Attempt primarily to find a stoatman and absorb it, along with looting anything that seems really cool/magical. Do this for a few hours.
-after a period of a few hours has elapsed, make my way back to the blacksmith's place. Await my armor.
-if armor is not made and instead he made something else for me, take it and warn him not to be inconsistent with valued customers. Then make my way to the well and give it the stoat.
-if armor is not made and he didn't make anything for me, file a complaint in the form of removing his limbs and force-feeding him his own fingers. Then make my way to the well and give it the stoat.

Toaster · « **Reply #1382 on:** July 27, 2016, 08:14:56 pm »

((Poor majordomo.))

Thomas nodded. "Right, now, can we all get on with our business now? That was a lovely trick, but I'm sure you've places to be, as we do."

Can we all just move along now? Probably should put some distance away from the center of town now. Not running, mind.

((EDIT: I'd like to say I am impressed with how consistent you are with them being "stout" in Thomas's turn blocks.))

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #1383 on:** July 28, 2016, 01:12:42 am »

"Well, it was worth a shot."

I start walking south along the road, looking out for any forks or intersections.

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #1384 on:** July 28, 2016, 03:58:28 am »

Good, good. Ragnarök is good to go then. Welcome it and other members of pantheon with most badass metal music I can think of!

TopHat · « **Reply #1385 on:** July 28, 2016, 01:47:23 pm »

"Not exactly. Given the timing, however, I would guess that it had something to do with the arrival or actions of myself or the others created by the minders, or with the later destruction of the stone circle. But you mentioned something stirring? Has that happened before?"
Speculate.

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1386 on:** July 29, 2016, 09:23:59 am »

Quote from: Xantalos on July 27, 2016, 04:29:48 pm

"Yeah, I've about had it with this bullshit."

Slap a bitch.

[Disciplinary Measures: 2+1 vs. 4]

You swing a mighty backhand in a great sweeping gesture, only for the majordomo to suddenly lean back out of the way, some animal instinct driving him to react to things his mind has thus far failed to perceive. You look on in surprise for a second as that very same animal instinct forces a certain reply, that being to punch you in the face with a force that puts you on your back foot for a split second before you lose your balance and tumble down the steps.

The majordomo is silent for a second, massaging the light soreness that has suddenly developed in his punching hand, seemingly not quite certain as to what might have been the cause. The servants moving through the foyer have paused in their tasks to appreciate the artistry of your fall. The guard watches you with suspicion, hand on his sword, seemingly unfriendly to the idea of castle staff being improperly handled by naked strangers. And the minder girl regards you with a raised eyebrow. A few other royal guards look in through the doorways, alarmed by the sudden noise followed by silence.

You dust yourself off as you rise to your feet a little more bruised, a little more peeved, and consider your next move as the eyes of the foyer rest upon you, whispers from the servants reaching the ears of the royal guards gathering round.

Quote from: Toaster on July 27, 2016, 08:14:56 pm

Thomas nodded. "Right, now, can we all get on with our business now? That was a lovely trick, but I'm sure you've places to be, as we do."

Can we all just move along now? Probably should put some distance away from the center of town now. Not running, mind.

[Moving Along: 5]

Yes, says one of the armored stout fellows, they'll be moving along. Now. And then the group take off at a sprint in the opposite direction, their short legs carrying them with all the swiftness of fine men and women running for their lives.

You notice they left their mostly unconscious friend on the ground, in fact, so great was their rush. You wonder if he'll be all right. Looks like he's taken something of a beating.

That is a useful sword, the Worm-knight says, if a disturbing one. The guard goes over to the unconscious fellow and pokes him with a foot, then looks back at you. Seems very committed to this unconsciousness ruse, he comments skeptically.

Quote from: penguinofhonor on July 28, 2016, 01:12:42 am

"Well, it was worth a shot."

I start walking south along the road, looking out for any forks or intersections.

The night is long and dark, and you have quite the road ahead of you. So you start down the southern road, unmindful of the terrors that no doubt lurk in the forests of the inexplicable north.

[A Path of Angled Forks: 3]

Two hours pass as you walk along the empty road, counting the mile markers in the overall boredom of overland travel, occasionally passing a lonely darkened farmhouse or an overgrown woodland trail branching off from the road when the trees part for a short while, most of them looking somewhat dilapidated when not outright half-collapsed. Midway through you notice a small, yet bright light in the distance between the trees. It widens a little as you look at it, beams shining into your eyes momentarily before it soundlessly blinks out. You decide not to investigate.

At the sixth mile comes a fork in the road, and a roadside inn. Neither seem to be much of what they used to be.

The fork, in fact, isn't much of a fork, merely a trace of one, the stones of the other road seemingly removed and the roadside ditch dug through where it used to branch off, though the signs of a former road's elevation and the clearing of the trees in the area has proven impossible to mask. You see make out another signpost on the side of the road - this one, however, points only to Speaker's Bridge, 24 miles south, and Anglefork, 6 miles north.

The inn, meanwhile, is a fairly plain two-story affair of wood on a stone foundation, a small stable by its side containing a single rather nervous horse struggling with a case of insomnia. The inn itself seems to still be open if the dim light in the windows and the quiet, occasional sound of tableware clinking is any indication, though you don't hear any voices. You see a post on which a sign might have hung on once, but no longer.

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on July 28, 2016, 03:58:28 am

Good, good. Ragnarök is good to go then. Welcome it and other members of pantheon with most badass metal music I can think of!

[A Great Resounding Din: 2]

It's more a layering of all the metal you can think of, but it comes out perfectly all right, gods and monsters alike seemingly having a fine time of it as they get into the spirit of things, the sound of screaming, violence and mythic amounts of bloodshed creating a wonderful symphony to greet the impending end of the world. Garmr howls along to your tunes, some jötnar break out their own instruments to join the band during a flanking maneuver, Naglfari uses one of your speakers to moor itself and discharge hordes of the undead, and a good bloody time is had by all as the corpses start to pile up in mounds that threaten to touch the very sky. Níðhöggr seems to be having a blast.

Quote from: TopHat on July 28, 2016, 01:47:23 pm

"Not exactly. Given the timing, however, I would guess that it had something to do with the arrival or actions of myself or the others created by the minders, or with the later destruction of the stone circle. But you mentioned something stirring? Has that happened before?"
Speculate.

The ones created by the minders, the captain notes, those would be prime suspects. Yourself included, by your own admission. Do not disappear anywhere, he says, he will have a different investigator on the job soon enough.

And he can confirm suspicions that there is something stirring beneath the castle, but this is not anything out of the ordinary. The subterranean areas are a place of extreme danger for anyone foolish enough to wander into them unknowingly. As mentioned, someone else will take over the investigation from here. Do not trouble yourself with the particulars.

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)

Spoiler: Hot Tip of the Day (click to show/hide)

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #1387 on:** July 29, 2016, 10:06:56 am »

Man, I should have grabbed some gold from the well. Maybe someone in there knows the area, at least.

I enter the inn to ask for directions. Specifically, what lies down that old road.

((Will status pruning affect the amount of connections I have to offer?))

AoshimaMichio · « **Reply #1388 on:** July 29, 2016, 11:16:50 am »

That's how its gotta be!

Quick peek into reality if anything noteworthy is happening. If not, then back into our scheduled program, finale of this concert! Break out beer kegs!

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1389 on:** July 29, 2016, 12:54:33 pm »

Quote from: penguinofhonor on July 29, 2016, 10:06:56 am

((Will status pruning affect the amount of connections I have to offer?))

Yes, actually. I mean, you can hardly expect good deals for something entirely inconsequential.

Toaster · « **Reply #1390 on:** July 29, 2016, 07:31:43 pm »

Thomas prodded the prone stout man with his foot. Huh. "Well, let's take him along and find someplace to hide out. You two can try to ask him around... I think I need to rest. I'm not sure I've slept in days, now that I think about it."

Find a place we four can hide, and drag the stout man along. Rest.

TopHat · « **Reply #1391 on:** July 30, 2016, 03:27:44 pm »

"Ah. Good luck with that and good day."
Beg my leave and find somewhere quiet to sit.
"Well Deirdre, that's given me a bit of time to kill, so there are a few things I've been meaning to ask if you don't mind. Firstly, is there anything you'd rather be called? I never did get your name."

Harry Baldman · « **Reply #1392 on:** July 30, 2016, 05:14:04 pm »

Quote from: penguinofhonor on July 29, 2016, 10:06:56 am

Man, I should have grabbed some gold from the well. Maybe someone in there knows the area, at least.

I enter the inn to ask for directions. Specifically, what lies down that old road.

The door of the inn swings open with creak, and you come into the main room, a woven mat crinkling beneath your feet as you take in the surroundings.

The room is quiet, but not empty. Several tables are arranged in a semicircle around the hearth, which is currently lit and filling the room with gentle firelight. Trophies from animals you do not quite immediately recognize line the far wall, their unusual heads and strange glass eyes staring out at you. You smell food - roasted meat, herbs, quite a few other things.

At one of the tables sits a stoatman, halfway through a dinner of bread, meat, potatoes and no doubt quite a bit of wine that could easily feed three grown men. He seems rather drunk as he waves to you, dressed in noticeably ill-fitting clothes. Hello! Welcome! Fantastic night to be alive, innit?

You hear a stirring to the left. Another stoatman stands at the bar of the main room, leaning back against it while polishing a glass with a newfound urgency as... she, definitely she, you sense with uncommon certainty, looks you over with narrowed eyes. Greetings, she says in a slightly stilted manner. Human, she continues, then thinks for a moment longer. What brings you out on the road tonight?

Quote from: AoshimaMichio on July 29, 2016, 11:16:50 am

That's how its gotta be!

Quick peek into reality if anything noteworthy is happening. If not, then back into our scheduled program, finale of this concert! Break out beer kegs!

You open your eyes. It's kind of dark. The light's gone out by now. And the others seem to asleep. You're not missing anything, you'd say. Back to a dream of a more interesting world!

[And They Fight And Dance 'Til The Morning: 6]

As with all conflicts, beer does not at all go amiss here! You know your audience if you know anything at all. Skulls crack to the tunes of your well-shaped imagination, and you swing your axe to play a fine song on the Midgard Serpent, and also some of the other guys and gals at play, probably nobody that important since you don't really remember much about them other than them being at play. You spin in a magnificent dervish axe solo through the hosts of gods and monsters for the grand finale as the world comes to that most glorious of ends.

And finally, as the dust settles, all is as it should be - FUBAR, just as the prophecies predicted. The World Serpent is dead, and the ocean looks lopsided as a result, and may or may not be draining somewhere judging by the lowering water levels. You hit your head on the vault of heavens as you step over the collapsed body of Thor. Hey, wait a minute, he's actually alive - luckily, you can swiftly correct that. After that, all is as it should be! The sun stares at you like the universe's very own black eye, and a couple of huddling, barely surviving and inspiringly drunk Aesir are presently playing a board game with a couple of late arrivals (son of a bitch, that guy over there, you think that's Váli) as they consider what they were planning to do after all this. The ocean is littered with corpses floating face down on the waves, which seem to be calming down now that the very notion of the wind has been killed in the fighting. Naglfari seems to have been impaled on your now merely smoldering cathedral by virtue of a particularly tall tidal wave, half-animate bones pouring out of its broken hold onto the rocky ground like a macabre rhythm section. Wolf sheddings, spilled blood and fingernails are absolutely everywhere. Steam rises from the ground and ocean.

[An Image Of Things To Come: 5]

You inhale the smell of ash as you consider your party. You'd say this was a job well done, but you think you'd be doing it a disservice. This is art. With alcohol as your paintbrush and mythology as your canvas, you have created a scene to end all scenes. You have fashioned the

APOCALYPSE

Quote from: Toaster on July 29, 2016, 07:31:43 pm

Thomas prodded the prone stout man with his foot. Huh. "Well, let's take him along and find someplace to hide out. You two can try to ask him around... I think I need to rest. I'm not sure I've slept in days, now that I think about it."

Find a place we four can hide, and drag the stout man along. Rest.

No better place, suggests the Worm-knight, than right out of town. And though the guard grumbles at taking your new stout friend along, he does fold after a smack to the head, so off you set!

[Getting Clear: 5]

Fortunately, since you seem to have run into most of the stout fellows at all able or willing to stop you on the way to get here, or at least enough of them that they've scared away the other ones, you run into absolutely no resistance as you extract yourselves from Anglefork Town, coming to the top of a bluff a slight distance away from the furthest outlying farms.

At this point you have to admit that you do feel a bit pooped, so you settle in for a bit of a rest next to a nearby tree. Shouldn't be too long until dawn, mentions the Worm-knight. The nights can occasionally be short around these parts. The stout fellow groans, having been dragged here a bit more roughly than he would have liked. The guard mentions that you are far from safe around here - the town militia could launch an offensive at any moment.

[Nap In The Face of Danger: 3]

Truth be told, all of this is a little hard to filter out. Especially since they don't seem eager to stay very quiet. Looks like they want to press on. Well, the Worm-knight and guard do. You're not quite sure what the stout fellow would like. Medical care, most likely.

Quote from: TopHat on July 30, 2016, 03:27:44 pm

"Ah. Good luck with that and good day."
Beg my leave and find somewhere quiet to sit.
"Well Deirdre, that's given me a bit of time to kill, so there are a few things I've been meaning to ask if you don't mind. Firstly, is there anything you'd rather be called? I never did get your name."

Leave is granted, and so you and Deirdre have a sit near the stone circle, which is quiet. Almost deathly quiet, truth be told, and somewhat unnervingly still, but you guess a bit of friendly conversation will pierce that well enough - place could do with a little bit of clearing of the air, you suppose as you put your back into upturning a doomstone for yourself to sit on and another one for Deirdre to occupy nearby.

Anyway, you ask if Deirdre's name is actually Deirdre once you've settled in - quite shockingly, the answer turns out to be yes. Yeah, her name is Deirdre. She guesses it's kind of weird that it never came up until this point. So, she asks with a smile, what were you calling her in your head until this point then, if you don't mind her asking?

Spoiler: Hot Tip of the Day (click to show/hide)

Spoiler: Status (click to show/hide)

Toaster · « **Reply #1393 on:** July 30, 2016, 08:59:37 pm »

((I guess that explains where ABSENCE came from, then.))

Thomas shrugged. He could use the nap, but he did suppose that now wasn't the time. "Fine then, we'll do it your way. Mrs. Worm-Knight, I'll follow your lead."

Follow her lead.

penguinofhonor · « **Reply #1394 on:** July 31, 2016, 10:25:54 am »

Ah. Human-stoat tensions might be high right now. Let's take this carefully.

"Just a traveller from far away, trying to see the world. I won't bother you for long. I was just wondering if anyone here could tell me about the surrounding area."

Bay 12 Games Forum

News:

Author Topic: Our Salvation: It Is Written (Read 262345 times)

Harry Baldman

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

Xantalos

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

Toaster

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

penguinofhonor

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

AoshimaMichio

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

TopHat

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

Harry Baldman

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

penguinofhonor

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

AoshimaMichio

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

Harry Baldman

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

Toaster

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

TopHat

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

Harry Baldman

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

Toaster

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond

penguinofhonor

Re: Our Salvation: Knights of the Far Beyond