Name: Kitsugare "Kit"
Animal Species: Snow Fox (Currently disguised as a dingy orange fox.)
Size: A bit small.
Job/Class: Spellcaster
Trait: Natural Spellcasting (Kit already has the basics of spellcasting down, and knows Mage Hand as a cantrip. This cantrip summons an ghostly hand that can interact with the world on behalf of its summoner. Who knows what else Kitsugare'll learn...)
Stats:
Mind: 3
Strength: 0
Dexterity: 1
Equipment:
Spell Book - A faded, pastel pink book, with a broken clasp where a lock would go. Normally tied shut with a long blue ribbon. Has straps so he can Mage Hand it to be carried on his back. Written in a code only he knows, or so he claims. (Contents: Magic Missile, Minor Illusion) "I can't tell you how aggravating it is to rely on paper to remember my spells. But at least I crammed Mage Hand into my skull..."
Focus - A really nice vape pen, long emptied of juice. "If you hold it in your mouth long enough, you can start to taste the knowledge of the old days... It's kinda fruity and sweet."
Melee Weapon - Mildly enchanted Bowie Knife with a faintly glowing 7 on the handle. "That's the number of people who've tried to touch my book... and failed. Care to make it 8?"
30 Monies
Whew, that was a powernap. But what else can you do after getting mildly impaled, and a bit shaken by how the parent's cry seemed to call you out?
...lupine jesus they can see the bird's cause of death was a Magic Missile. They'll be looking for a spell-slinger like me. And there's NO way I'm leaving my book behind.
Drop concentration, use Mage Hand to pull out the quills. Take a look out the window again - the main problem is how many guns are out there. Other police I can dodge, knock out, bamboozle. But guns tend to hurt.
I'm going to do a couple of rolls here, to see what happens to you.
There are lot of riot police out there. the neighborhood is in lockdown due to a bit of a riot having broken out recently. (1) you eventually slip up in your disguise, and some of the people in the building you are in call you out as an outsider. the group goes quite hostile quite quickly. (2) You look for an escape, but are cornered, and take quite a beating. (4) Fortunately, the violence attracts the cops, who drag your battered body out after delivering their own beatdown to the residence. tempers are up all round. (4) you get taken to a hospital and patched up reasonably well, spending a couple days in the ward. (2) But, you are unable to escape police attention - they are coming to get you from the hospital to take you into custody. you are restrained and injured. Time is short. Good luck! (If you get free, I'm sticking you with the beaver team.)
BEAVER TEAMKongor and Blarg take a bus out of the city and half way across the tri-state area. It takes about twenty hours to get where you are going, before you have to disembark and wait another five hours for a shuttle to pick you up and take you to the headwaters where the logging group is located. You are introduced to a Beaver in overalls and big, thick-rimmed black glasses. He slaps his tail three times on the ground, sending up a small cloud of dust to coat his fur and pants. "Come right this way. The logs are ready to go. We have a raft set up for you. You look tired." You are led to the riverbank. sure enough, the area is full of logs. two dozen yards out is the aforementioned log raft, complete with some kind of structure like a small cabin. Another beaver scurries across the logs to shore to greet yo uand lead you back across the logs to the raft. Let the comedic 'falling in water' scene commence!
PIGEON TEAMYou guys have the "pleasure" of an ocean voyage on a cargo container ship. it's nauseating. But at least you get actual people cabins - animal people of course. So at least you don't have to go across the ocean in a cargo container. When you arrive, you find yourself in a large, bustling port, full of boats, ships, and various other things of interest. Some houseboats are selling souvenirs and food dishes to anything that gets close enough - and they seem dangerously willing to get right up under the edge of the cargo container to hawk their wares - even though there don't seem to be any actual hawks among the sellers. The cargo container pulls into an industrial section of the port and you are unceremoniously let off on the long, concrete pier, surrounded by dock workers and metal containers. You look around for a contact or something, but you don't spot anby pigeons in the immediate area. Maybe over in teh commercial district?
Author
Topic: Wolfhound Incorporated (Read 24884 times)