Hmm, seems they've stopped paying attention to me. Go create a fortified reality in the furthest corner of the infinite realities, ie one that other people can't get into without me wanting them to.
Time to turtle up. [3] You attempt to create an impregnable, unfindable reality, but after all the shock and chaos from the previous few turns, you're eldritch energy is still rather drained. Anything you'd create at this point would be a half-assed plane at best, so you rest for a bit.
I have no money, I must make a arousing speech to stop his greedy ways
[4] Digging into the deepest part of yourself, you draw forth a speech on the slavery of capitalism and light of socialism, that keeps on going no matter how many times the Manager tries to stop you. Eventually, even he becomes entranced by your rhetoric.
"Wow, I never thought of it that way. I still can't just, y'know, GIVE you the hammer, but I can do something about those chains."
Grabbing a key from the wall, the Manager unlocks the Shackles of Capitalism, freeing your magic from bourgeois tyranny.
Okay way tooooooooo big,lets try this again become a 59 meters shorter
[1] ( now how should I interpret this )
You focus on the number 59, but your magic is still discombobulated by your massive size increase, and instead of adjusting physical dimension, it adjusts your biological age. You
have now aged 59 years in less than a second. -1 to physical rolls.
GO INSPECT THE SITUATION OUTSIDE WHILST DRINKING MY FRESH COFFEE
TRY AND REMEMBER IF THERE WERE ANY OTHER TAVERNS OR OTHER BITS OF NIGHTLIFE IN THE TOWN/VILLAGE AND WHETHER THEY WERE STURDILY BUILT ENOUGH TO SURVIVE THE RECENT EVENTS
DEAD MAGES NOT COUNT TOWARDS PLAYER LIMIT I HOPE, NOT EVEN NINJA DEAD MAGES
DAMN NINJAS
[1] Going outside to see if there any OTHER reputable establishments, you're shot. By a bullet. In the stomach. It hurts.
"You are under arrest for violating spatial reality laws. Tell us where your other rogue mages are and we will take your cooperation into account."
A policeman has just materialised in a flash energy, wearing what appears to be chrome coloured riot gear. Who the fuck is this guy?
wobble to the soul room and teleport away with all of them I can search for the correct when not bleeding to death or in enemy territory.
[1] You try and limp to the soul room, but the bloodloss is finally starting to get to you. Collapsing just before you reach the door, you keep trying in vain to turn the handle.
Roll a [1] on your next turn and you ded.
Amuse myself by turning several planets into coffee.
[6] Travelling throughout the cosmos, you turn several planets into giant cups filled with coffee. Bloody good fun. Unfortunately, you've kinda run afoul of a local galactic empire, who have begun bombarding your caffeinated form with plasma fire. Right now, they're missing like crazy, they have no idea how to aim at a coffee based pseudo-god, but give em time.
Fortify my mind shield!
[3] Try as you might, the jingle still keeps peaking through. You manage to hold the stalemate longer yet.
Author
Topic: MINIMALIST MAGE RTD (Read 81711 times)