"Right. Marcus thinks the mayor will be happy with this. Extra pay! Huzzah!"
"Do we even have a cart?"
"Bah, we have head. They can come find this. Maybe take a sack for proof."
"Alright then. Why do you have the gunmans head?"
"Mayor said he was paying for heads!"
"... just the wizards head though?"
Marcus looks creastfallen. "Not all the heads?"
"No. Take the damn head off, it's disgusting."
Marcus takes a bottle of fire and a bag of spice. Alanna takes the book of recipies and the flint and steel.
Time to head home! Alanna also attempts to learn recipies.
Name: Marcus
Backstory: Marcus gonna punch a bitch. Marcus gonna judo slam a bitch to the floor! Marcus gonna make earth swallow the idiot who thought he could get one over on Marcus! Marcus needs to do this for daughter. Marcus needs to earn money so daughter can BE SUCCESSFUL. Marcus doesn't know what little girl wants to do but SHE WILL BE THE BEST AT IT. Marcus lost wife in tragic wizard firestorm. Marcus also lost most of his skin. Marcus was left on the street with an adorable child! MARCUS WILL PROVIDE.
Strength: 13 (7)
Dexterity: 13
Mind: 10
Health: 5 (5)
Wizard Level: 0
Affinity: Earth/Metal. Basically an avatar Earthbender.
Inventory:
Caltrops (D4 damage against unarmored feet)
Hourglass in a metal frame.
Heavy Armor (Can't move AND attack in the same turn.)
Wooden Shield (5/5 HP)
Soldiers weapon: Axe 1d8 damage.
Vision fluid~ 10 silver. A green glass vial filled with clear liquid. If liquid is ingested or fumes inhaled, Str
save or spend 1d3 hours in catatonic, hallucinatory state. x2
Flame syrup ~10 silver. Glass jar filled with faintly glowing yellow-orange viscous fluid. Fluid ignites when
exposed to air and burns for 5 rounds. If thrown, sets 15ft diameter area alight and deals 1d6 damage to
anything in it each round. x1
Bag of Metal Acorns.
Bottle of fire.
Spice bag
Quirks:
Full body burn scars
Name: Alanna
Daughter of Marcus, she is sixteen years of age and desires to do something with her life. This mostly involves putting up with her father and making sure he doesn't go off too half cocked on some crazy adventure, usually by being smarter than him. Unfortunetly, she is also a bit weak and has the grace of a house being very suddenly introduced to a boulder at 50 mph.
HP 4 (4)
Strength 8 (8 )
Dexterity 5
Mind 12
Flimsy Armor (armor 1) ~10 Silver. Roll d10 every time the armor blocks some damage. On a roll of 1,
armor breaks.
Soldier's weapon: Rifle d8 damage. 5/6 ammo
Rifle clips (6 rounds each), x1
A dagger. D6 damage
Recipie book (
)
Flint and steel
Just gotta tank the hits, then Derm.
I'm having fun. Only worry mechanics-wise is that the enemies may always get last turn, which could lead to things being pretty easy, (especially if we kill a few and then they have to morale-check before getting even one attack off) but we almost got wasted last time, so who knows?
"I think we should keep one fire-jar and a rifle each, and just bring the rest back to town. Except the teeth, they're creepy."
In the proud tradition of one used to eating roach-bits for six month dungeon exterminations, cook up some of the food they were gathering, and try for a nice meal.
..And hope it isn't people. Damn teeth.
((Notice you're not taking the head off. Oh and the bottles of fire are flame syrup.))
"Ah yes, but what if we say wizard had two heads! AH! See! I am not as stupid as I look."
"I'm not sure how to respond to that."
"Praise is acceptable."
Marcus grabs a bottle of flame syrup and the little purple satin bag of spices. There are several different kinds of spices in there, all mixed together; little seed pods, powders, and dried leaves. They have a very powerful and pleasant smell that tickles and tingles his nose. He pushes aside a bloody set of armor and digs out the recipe book. He can't read the cover, no matter how hard he squints at the letters or which direction he holds it in. But it has pictures of some very tasty looking things on it, so he hands it to Alanna. Next to the book is a small tin box, about 5-6 inches long and 4 wide, very plain, roughly made and unadorned. He opens it and finds a good sized hunk of flint, a steel striker, and some kindling made of unraveled hemp rope, along with several intact bits of rope. He nods approvingly toward this box of fire starting implements and hands it to Alanna. The two of them are about to start walking back to town when Beethro shouts at them.
"Oi, Colossus and Negasonic, get back here."
"Marcus does not understand the reference."
"Whatever, just get back here. I'm making food and you've got the spices and the recipe book. And the firesteel."
"Marcus wishes to return to town and tell them about how he," He glances over at Bill's unconscious body, "With small amounts of help from friends, defeated the wizard!"
"Please. Your daughter killed more bandits than you. And took far less axes to the chest."
"He has a point."
"Not Now Alanna!"
"Food does sound good though."
"...Marcus accepts your proposal to feed him."
Beethro breaks up a few of the empty boxes and tosses the wood onto the charred section of ground that the bandits seem to have been using as a fire pit. It takes a few tries but he manages to get the wood lit using the flint and steel, and wedges the cooking pot in among the burning planks.
[8]
Alanna and Beethro spend a few minutes flipping through the recipe book, looking for something they can make with the ingredients on hand. Perhaps unsurprisingly the book contains very few recipes containing dried meat, corn, flour, weak booze, various vegetables of all manner and oddity, and hard bread. Eventually, they decide to make what amounts to a stew, albeit one made with a broth made using dried meat and alcohol. They hack up any vegetable that looks good and huck it into the pot along with the broth, more dried meat and a bit of the spice. It takes a bit too cook, and Beethro breaks up more boxes to keep the fire going, but after a good hour or so, it smells ready.
Gordon scootches two meters away from Sigh, leaving the music box in the same position, and tries to look natural while subtly observing Sigh.
((@Derm Use a ranged weapon. Then, you basically get no penalty for most cases. Alternatively, fight melee enemies, rather than the ranged spam that this group preferred. Also, haha, I was right--I knew the heavy drawback would cause issues for players back when I first saw it!
@GM Brick. The actual game file contains more information on how exactly the brick works. I found a way to mitigate it fairly reliably, and PW pointed out that he'd just make things even worse. But, by all means, abuse the Brick.))
Crawl over to the music box and just watch it for a little while. Maybe doze off next to it.
Name:syv
Backstory: This is the sound of safety. I haven't felt like this for so long...
HP: 6/6
STR: 14
DEX: 8
INT: 14
Wizard Level: 0
Affinity: FLESH
Inventory:
Bolt-action Rifle (d8 ranged weapon) [6/6]
Tire Iron (d6 melee weapon)
Flimsy Armor (Armor 1) (Roll 1d10 every time the armor blocks some damage. On a roll of 1, armor breaks.)
Cobbled together pistol (d6 ranged weapon) [6/6]
12 bullets
1 silver coin, 30 copper coins
Gordon stands up and calmly walks away from the music box, sitting down against a tree a few meters away. He watches as the skittish man very slowly approaches the music box. The man moves like a frightened cat, jerky and anxious but also very deliberate. He slinks over to the music box and sits down next to it, propped up on his arms with his head hanging directly over the box. He stares down at the disk as it slowly rotates, seemingly transfixed by the movement. Afer a few minutes he starts to slowly sway with the music, rocking back and forth while still staring at the disk. Then, after another few minutes, he settles down into a curled up fetal position next to the box and closes his eyes.
Gordon watches the guy with a sort of quiet curiosity. He wonders if food to could be used to attract the strange critter, or if music was the only thing he liked. Either way, it was something to consider for later. He closes his eyes and follows the man's lead, drifting off to sleep. He wakes up some short time later to the smell of meat and the sound of Alanna, Bethro and Marcus talking. Or more accurately, Alanna and Beethro talking and Marcus yelling.
((I meant what do you need me to do to my sheet, if anything.))
Sleep. Unless someone wakes me up.
Snakescorpion
Horse/Cow-sized
d10 HP: 10
3d6 stats
Str:16
Dex:14
Mind:11
Tarantula
Horse/Cow-sized
d10 HP: 9
3d6 stats
Str:12
Dex:16
Mind:5
Name: Bill
Backstory: Since the day he was born, Bill was raised to do one thing. He was meant to take over his father's butcher shop. When that didn't pan out (because a wizard blew it up), he turned to wizard hunting.
HP: 7
Strength: 15
Dexterity: 17
Mind: 18
Wizard level: 1
Affinity: Metal
Inventory d4: 4
Equipment 1: [6][9] A small lead bar
Equipment 2: [2][14] Meat cleaver (d6)
Equipment 3: [5][11] Standard Armor
Equipment 4: [6][20] Grimoire
Equipment 5: Magical Sabre of Cold (d6) (d4 Cold) (Loaned)
Money: [1][1] None
Quirk: [1] Nope
You wake up with an odd metallic taste in your mouth. You're slightly worried before you realize you've had your tongue laying out on the metal ground for who knows how long. You sit up and brush aside the gold foil flowers, getting shakily to your feet. You feel something here, surrounded by all this metal. Something...powerful. The feeling you first got when you held a sword; a feeling of destructive potential. Something about this place is mighty in your hands.
You're distracted from the feeling by the smell of cooking meat and Marcus shouting something about how heroes are remembered in songs, not dirty limericks.