Repeatedly cast dice storm at the mice when they're within range, until the only thing I can see is dice.
Name: Fluffy the Terrible
Appearance: Fluffy and black and terrible luck all over. Has blue eyes, and 13 white stripes on his back.
Things that make you the best: Fluffiness
Signature Spell: Dice Storm (causes 1d6 dice to fly at lethal velocity towards an enemy, flipping a coin and hitting enemies if the coin lands on heads.)
Strikes: 0
Stuff: Staff of Uncertainty (has a large d6 attached to the top, and a d4 attached to the bottom. causes spells with dice to roll an additional die on rolls of 6 or above, bonus dice can possibly get more bonus dice. also makes a good greatmace)
[4][2][5]
[3][2][2][2][5][1][1][1][1][1][5]
You manage to get off three castings, sending eleven potent cubes hurling in a cloud towards the enemy. The first two spells drain you considerably, but seeing most of your shots deflected by shields, you're enraged and find the stamina to fire off one more. In this last burst, almost every single die strikes true, landing directly on the result which drains your strength.
Gain [3]+[4]+[3]+5 =
16 strikes.
[14]
[9]
You lose consciousness.
Rush out in front of the group and start smashing the mice with my hammer.
Name: The Claw
Appearance: A plain black cat
Things that make you the best: My strength and claws!
Signature Spell: Shield wall
Strikes: 3
Stuff: Big ass hammer, and a helmet
Dice guy managed to land a couple of good hits against the enemy formation, softening them up. Good job, dice guy! You rush in.
[9]
You swing your hammer horizontally, aiming to plow through the whole formation in one go. Then you... stop.
The two mice at either end of the formation aren't holding a needle and shield like the others, but what looks like a little two-pronged tuning fork. The one you were aiming for held this up to your hammer and it magically sapped away all the momentum. Develry!
[13]
Put off-balance, you're struck in the leg by a couple of legionnaire's needles.
Gain [3] strikes.
It's annoying, but you can keep fighting!
Spread out a little more than we already naturally are, then let my predator instincts guide my hunt. Use the glock of course, and if I can find a stick to whack 'em with should it get into melee, that'd be swell.
Name: Mr. Whiskers
Appearance: a proud and pretty kitty
Things that make you the best: the whiskers!
Signature Spell: [DATA NOT FOUND]
Strikes: none!
Stuff: tiny whisker comb, quality whisker oil, a glock
[4]
Predator's instincts, you say?
A
real predator could take down this prey without any weapon! Watch this!
You close your eyes, closing out visual sensation and focusing on your ears and whiskers. You can tell where they are, you can smell them!
You put your front paws down and
sprint, four-legged, towards the enemy, and pounce!-
Gain [2] strikes.
Ow! Ow! Pokey! It's like you jumped into a cactus! You're pushed off the formation by the mice's shields, and tumble prone, covered in pinpricks.
[11]
A lone, unarmored rat at the back of the formation glares at you. Her eyes briefly flash with a horrible malevolence! She somehow launches into the air, soars over the formation, and over you, leaving behind a durable thread. She's tying you down!
Name: Slowpaw
Appearance: A black cat with a missing left eye - Probably related to the dent in his head on that side. Might be a bit dense, but he's kinda buff...
Things that make you the best: A really big stick to smack anyone who says otherwise.
Signature Spell: "Hit it with a stick.": Not actually a spell, as Slowpaw isn't actually a Mage. But few can argue with his stick-swinging prowess...
Strikes: 2 (Cannot be reduced below 1)
Stuff: A really big stick, and some chainmail. He's a fighter, so he doesn't need anything else.
Wake up from the mildly drowsy state of multiple turns AFK. And then who are we kidding?
CHARGE.
The sun is shining bright, casting the battlefield in glorious light. A gentle, mercifully cool breeze blows between your ears. You feel... no time for that! You were made for this!
[13]
You bounce forwards, bringing your stick to bear. That hammer guy made a mistake swinging horizontally, and you learn from it, making a vertical strike down onto just one of the shield-mice, outterly obliterating its shield and puny body between your stick and the harsh ground!
[11]
The mouse next to the one you obliterated panically swings its needle at your leg, landing a pathetic scratch.
Gain [1] strike.
Roll eyes. Walk forward with the other cats until the mice mages are within range. Mind control one of them, and make it fuck up the other mouse mages with magic. Wild magic. Have it drain its little soul dry in a blind effort to kill the others.
Name: Snowfoot
Appearance: Dark brown, with a white line running from the left side of her mouth and down her chest. Each of her paws is also white. Somewhat large, but thin and a little lanky.
Things that make you the best: Snowfoot is *always* calm and aloof, wise and reserved. She does not allow her emotions to control her, and always thinks of things until she reaches the ideal decision. Once she is certain she knows what to do, she immediately enacts that plan, and directs her foolish inferiors to enact her plans.
Signature Spell: Mind control.
Strikes: 0
Stuff: Detection collar: allows Snowfoot to always be aware of minds that are anywhere near her, to a great degree of precision. Blink bracelet: A band of metal around her right ankle, which allows her to teleport a short distance, though it literally removes her from reality for a second while she makes the transfer. Faux fang: A magical replacement fang that she stole from an artifact collector. Does... something, when she bites a sapient being. She has no idea what, though. It's probably harmful.
You cast your spell and the end of it reaches out searchingly to the mice. Soldiers, no. You want one of the nerds.
[12]
What you feel on the other end is... disconcerting. The foundations of magic are there, sloshing through the thing's mind like an expensive tea through a dirt cup. But around the edges it's different. Angular, simplified. In an affront to grace and efficiency, this creature has learned magic
wrong.And you will teach it.Gain [6] strikes.
No more cats are able to enter the melee, it's too crowded now. You may be larger and stronger, but the mice's small size is an advantage in that more of them can fit onto the front line at one time. Individually they may be weaker, but they are able to react to more things at once when fighting as a group.
The mages attempt to cast a spell, but something causes it it fizzle!
Author
Topic: Special Cats: end (Read 9252 times)