I love how it's always the seventh poster who tries to do something about the six players per turn limit.
Travel to the jungle dimension.
[5] Transplanting your physical form to the jungle dimension, you find yourself smack dab in the middle of the fucking thing. It really lives up to the name. Foliage, the hum of unseen animals, just really atmospheric and
green. Ah there! There's the greatest Coffee plant in the universe. Now it's just a matter of harvesting it without messing up...
Get my subjects to help me out with the healing.
[1] You don't have any subjects. At least not that I'm aware of. Realising this depressing fact is the final straw.
U Die.But hey, now that the rules have changed, you can just roll again! Provided you're fast enough.
Actually, I've pretty much achieved my goals now that I'm an Elder God. Go fuck off into the infinite dimensions and do inscrutable things for the rest of eternity like the wizardy God I am.
[6] ( wow )
Retreating back into the portal, you bask in the...feeling? of becoming completely beyond the concepts of material and immaterial. You are many things and nothings. Guided by your wizardly ambition, you become onemanyall with the everything.andeverythingjuststartstoloseallmeaning.causeNOTHINGmattersbutYOUandEVERYTHINGisDUSTBEFOREYOURFEETANDVARIOUSAPPENDAGEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES-.
Ahem. Well that was a fun eternity in a blink of an eye. You're kinda bored now.
You are about to vault over said counter and claim your hard won liquor when a patron near you grabs your arm.
"Buddy, he didn't mean nothing by that, we're all friends here right? Let's not take this out of hand, okay?"
"OH... RIGHT YOU ARE. I'VE LET MY TEMPER GET THE BETTER OF ME AGAIN. I AM SO SORRY."
GIVE A SORROWFUL APOLOGY AND LEAVE THE TAVERN, HEAD BOWED IN GUILT AND SHAME OVER MY ACTIONS
... THEN BLAST THE ROOF OF THAT VILE DEN WITH A FIREBALL AND COLLAPSE THE ENTIRE BURNING MESS WITH A FOLLOW-UP FORCE SPELL, PREFERABLY INTO A NEARBY DITCH, GULLY OR BODY OF WATER. OR OFF A CLIFF, IF I'M REALLY LUCKY
[6] You give the apology of your lifetime, completely setting the mood at ease, before making a fairly dignified exit.
The tavern is vaporised in a flash. Your pyromancy elevated to new heights by your hate, you burn the wretched place to the ground, telekinetically compress the ashes, and toss the whole damn thing of a small cliff on the edge of the town.
You smile, satisfied to yourself. Suddenly, you're hit by a blast of pure arcane energy.
It's PaPaj! He was knocked unconscious in your blast and his body has defended itself without his own conscious effort.
His body is now on autopilot, and will continue to blast you ( the hostile threat ) with magic until he actually posts a turn and decides to wake up.
Cast a spell onto the coffeeshop to ensure it gets the attention of customers!
[4] Weaving your magic, you create a psychic beacon around your coffeeshop, enticing people to enter. The villagers, already intrigued ( at least the ones that aren't terrified out of their minds by all the weird shit happening around them ) decide to enter. They seem quite interested.
You still don't have any coffee, and it's only a matter of time before these people realise there's nothing to buy yet.
Cast a healing spell on myself. Command Jormungandr to fucking destroy the militia.
[1] Your bloodloss is enough to weaken your hold over Jormungandr's mind, and the irate World Serpent bucks you off. Into the stratosphere.
U dead.Roll again?
Satisfied as I am with the death of not one but TWO wizards, I'm increasing the player cap to seven for the next few turns.
Author
Topic: MINIMALIST MAGE RTD (Read 81618 times)