This is bad. I'm up against a wall. The door is closed! How'd they get in? Can I escape the same way? It's not safe here, leave the hole and scurry after them in the dark, from a distance, watch them, where do they go? Make sure they don't come towards me!
Name:syv
Backstory: Torches! Why do people wish to see? It only draws death to you! Darkness is safety.
HP: 6
STR: 14
DEX: 8
INT: 14
Wizard Level: 0
Affinity: FLESH
Inventory:
Tire Iron (d6 melee weapon)
Cobbled together pistol (d6 ranged weapon) [6/6]
12 bullets
1 silver coin, 30 copper coins
You look around, trying to make out whats going on in the darkness. You can hardly see anything outside the illumination of the torches in the distance, just vague grayscale shapes and phantom lines signifying the black bulk of structures. You can't see how the raiders got in; the gate is still closed and there's no visible holes in the walls; at least nowhere you can see. It's not even clear where they came from, they could have entered from anywhere, you just happened to wake up and see them where they are now. Leaving the way they came is out of the question for the moment, so instead you decide to follow them. The wizard you have an eye on is better than the one that sneaks up on you in the dark and pulls your insidey bits out through whatever orifice is close at hand.
You slither out of the hole in the wall, lowering yourself down hands first, then onto your stomach, then finally onto all fours, crouched like a lizard on the tile floor. You slink through the darkness, over towards the torches, using their light to guide you. As you move towards them, it becomes increasingly obvious that the flailing shadow is the source of the scream. It looks like a young woman, but the shadows are all around her, so you can't get a good look. They seem to be restraining her, there are a half dozen hands pressed down on her face. You try to move in and get a better look, pulling yourself up and over a small wooden fence.
Stealth is a Dex action roll: [9]But as you do, one of the crossbars of the fence snaps, and you go tumbling to the ground with a high pitched squeal and a clattering of food against tile. You squirm on the floor for a few seconds before scrabbling up and looking back at the mob just in time to see the glint of something arcing in towards you. Whatever it is, it misses, hitting the building that this fence belongs to instead. You can make out the sound of glass breaking before there's a sudden FLOOOOSH! and the building erupts into flame. Everything around you is suddenly a blindingly bright orange-red, all flame and harsh flickering shadows, with you very clearly exposed.
"Early bird gets the worm! Hahahaha!"
Grab my shotgun and start sprinting through the dark towards the group. Them carrying lights just means that I can see them before they see me.
Try to pick out the leader of this bunch and put two shells worth of buck at point-blank into them before the rest can react, and then keep running.
Backstory: Nobody's quite sure where he came from, or who he is, but one thing is certain: he's not 100% sane. Also; not 100% harmless. More like 14%.
HP: 2
Strength: 11
Dexterity: 17
Mind: 10
Wizard Level: 0
Affinity: Shotgun
Inventory:
Double barrel shotgun (d8) (2/6)
Crowbar
Music Box + 2 music discs
10 copper
You grab the shotgun out of under your makeshift straw pillow and leap down from the hayloft, taking off in a dead sprint the moment your feet touch the ground. You're about halfway there when a house to the left of the raiders suddenly explodes in to a fireball with a flash that briefly illuminates almost the entire lower district. You swear under your breath, blinking tears out of your blinded eyes, and duck off the main road. You start making your way through the gaps between homes, crouched low.
Stealthy as a ninja on greased ice roll [5]You make it close to the raiders without them noticing, slipping through the thin alley between two stone walls and peaking out at the corner. You're behind them, or at least at their backs. They're all looking over towards the burning building, torches held high, straining to see through the dark.
Observation is for people without a shotgun roll [18]You squint at them. There are five raiders and what looks like one villager they've grabbed. The raiders are all dressed fairly similarly; hemp clothing in a variety of colors, clearly stolen, with bits of ironwood bark sewn on at various places to create makeshift armor. You can't tell which one is the leader, if any, so you instead heft the heavy metal barrel up and take aim at the only one who still has good hold on the villager.
Don't shoot twice, shoot nice roll [8, 1]You empty both barrels with a deafening roar and the raider loses his grip on the woman and staggers to the side, trailing red as he crumples to the ground. The hostage breaks free and runs into the dark, screaming at the top of her lungs. You slip back behind the wall and dash off into the darkness. Behind you, shouts and flailing torches as the raiders struggle to find their attacker.
"Aha! Alanna, come! There are mauraders afoot! COME! FEEL THE TITAN GRIP OF MARCUS!"
"Oh god damnit."
The chase is afoot!
Remember that part about putting your stat sheet in actions? I see a distinct lack of it here.
You consider, for a brief moment, sneaking in and attempting to get behind the raiders. Maybe snapping their necks like a ninja. But then your brain resets and you instead choose to do the much more reasonable thing: Running head first into combat and punching the armed raiders to death. You vault down off the hayloft and sprint straight down main street.
"FEEL THE TITIAN GRIP OF MARCUS! FEAR THE IRON COCK OF MARCUS! MARCUS USES BOTH EQUALLY AND BOTH ARE EQUALLY LETHAL!"
MUST RUN FASTER THAN BULLETS ROLL [13]
You charge straight into torch wielding mob before they can react and turn the force of your sprint into a flying superman punch.
Fists are generally not effective weapons and deal non-lethal damage, despite earlier claims roll [4]
The blow knocks your target out cold and leaves him face down in a puddle of blood with a broken nose. You stand over him, screaming.
"THE TITAN FIST HAS BEEN DELIVERED! NOW WHO WANTS THE IRON PHALLUS?!"
Follow Beethro carefully.
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: 6
Strength: 8 14
Dexterity: 12 16
Mind: 18
Wizard level: 0
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
"Ahh, dark, this is worse than trapdoors under tar. I can't see anything!"
Open the door to the hallway and see if I can see anything. If not, continue heading towards the exit until I'm out on the street.
Bill and Beethro scramble down the stairs in the dark and into the great room, where the innkeeper is blearily walking out of his room, holding a candle.
"Whats all thi-" He asks but Bill and Beethro are already out the door and onto the street. To their right they can see several torches held aloft by shadowy figures and a burning building. One of the torches suddenly goes flying and lands on the ground as another shadowy figure leaps into the crowd and knocks one of the torch wielders down. Both of them hear something about "Iron Phallus" and immediately intuit that the attacking figure is Marcus.
The three remaining raiders shrink back from Marcus, stepping away with their torches held out between them and him. They're looking at each other, arguing quickly in harsh whispers. Finally one of them yells, "It's blown, run!" and they ditch their torches and run off into the darkness, seemingly running towards the wall of the cathedral. They're out of sight in seconds. Back in the lower district, people are already starting to peak their heads out of their homes. Some have pitch forks, hammers or sharpened metal rods in hand and are moving toward the burning building, while others are simply poking their head out their door.