TURN FOURTEENAwaken, oh master,
Whom forges the mountains,
Whom weaves the clouds,
Whom pours the seas.
- '?' - &
- Hood -FATES COLLIDE! - ENTROPY & NOTHINGNESS - DESTRUCTIVE BEAM -- 1d10 + 3 (Might) + 2 (Primary Aspect) + 3 (Elemental Absorption)=
13!ABYSSAL RAY -- 1d10 + 5 (Might) + 2 (Primary Aspect) =
13!Still the twin beams of nothingness and destruction intertwine over the land, cracking and blasting apart the earth below were their great might struggles. With each moment that passes, ever more power is poured into the spells by either side, engorging the singularity where they meet, growing ever more to a frightening degree that would ward off even those who deign themselves as 'gods'. Despite the incredible push back where hope seemed dim, Hood manages to hold on, all of his malice, all of his anger are abosrbed by the entropic beam, engorging it and padding against the focusing abyss that intends to pierce straight through, after not too long, the Destruction Elementals meld into the necromancer's spell, disappearing in the process but feeding it just enough to prevent the man's anhilation. No progress is made on either side, onlyproving to further shake the Nameless World.'?' CONTROLS THEIR SPELL -- 1d10 + 3 (Skill) + 2 (Primary Aspect) =
11!FORGOTTEN RESIST OBLITERATION -- 1d10 + 2 (Hardiness) =
9BARROWHOLD RESISTS OBLITERATION -- 1d10 + 3 (Hardiness) =
12!With the advantage now, the Onyx skinned mystic from her Keep of Black Apathy refutes the place's very name, focusing all her power not to turn all before her to nothing, but to protect the ones whom care for her. Off the twirling beams, little bubbles of non-light seep out, enveloping the Beastkin, Soldier, and the Chrome Bits to temporily protect them from death as they charge.FATES DESCISION - GIANT SMASH! - 1d10 + 5 (Might) =
12!FATES DESCISION - RESIST VOID FIELD - 1d10 + 3 (Hardiness) =
10!(( You're right, this Giant rolls stupidly well. ))
The massive skeleton seeks to destroy their foe's vessel, even as the crew charges across an arm, nearly reaching the titan's chest. With a mighty heave, the megalithic undead smashes a bony fist into the pulsating hull of the stone ship. A reverberant cry echoes out from the enchanted void-skin of the ship, yet its retalitory tendrils of inky darkness are cast off by whatever magick animates the Barrowhold Giant. The Abyssal Sailor falls to the earth below meteroically, losing its loft in the attack. With a great crash, it cracks the weakened stone below.FATES COLLIDE! - BEASTKIN & SOLDIER VS. THE FORGOTTEN - BEASTKIN CHARGE -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) =
8LONE SOLDIER -- 1d10 + 3 (Skill) =
9FORGOTTEN DEFEND HOOD -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) =
4Unable to be shaken from their charge, the crew of the Abyssal Sailor reach the chest cavity of the giant, their blades outstretched. Surrounding the mystic, even as the twin spells work to deteriorate their bones, the few remaining Forgotten stand firm with their shields and spears pointed forth as the final bulwark. Voidblades meet bone with a great cry and squealing roar from the beastkin. The armaments that they'd been given slice easily through the enchantments surrounding the ancient skeletons, rendering them as mere piles in a few swipes. The Soldier does not relent herself, sending her estoc straight through the skulls and spinal columns of these dusty old bones, together their mighty onslaught renders naught but a single Forgotten solider left to defend Hood. The circumstance growing more dire by the moment as that red-mystic's eye gazes at the intruders before him. But. . . Would could he do? Release the spell and deal with them? And be consumed by it? Or continue to struggle back, hoping to overcome the enemy, yet with his felled skeletons save one, what would stop these foes from running him through?Destruction Elementals -- Population: Few (2) -> Extinct (0)[/b]
Chrome Bits -- Population: Few (2) -> Solitary (1)[/b]
- Maria 'Habitat' Violet - FATES DESCISION - CONNECTING MINDS - 1d10 + 2 (Primary Aspect) =
4You place your forehead gently against the massive verdant ray, borne of all the seeds you'd sowed thus far. Within it runs the essence of your magicks, perhaps this connection, this intrinsic mother and child relationship is what brought a certain docilility to the monster's heart. As your flesh graces it, all the rile that was left within seems to fade away, and it lets out a deep, soothing coo that echoes throughout the forest of grass. To this end, you speak a few kind words into the Graminaceous Ray's head, and place a plam thereon, a short burst, a glow of vibrant green and blue entwine over it and seep into the beast. Yet. . . After a few moments more you find no errant thoughts that are not your own, and neither does the creature seem to react to yours. Sadly it seems no convergence of your two minds had just yet occured. However, as you're lamenting this fact, the Ray sweeps you up by way of its mossen tail, placing you softly upon its back and letting out something of a trilling purr. Perhaps something in your spell got through at least? The Ray appears ever more epathetic by the moment.Meanwhile, the Red Dwarf above truly rises above the clear skies now, casting its warmth down below, casting that red ominous glow. As you observe the isle from your perch, you can't help but notice among the forest of tall grasses that a deep crimons colour has taken root, flowers! The seed you'd planted so long ago has bloomed, a number of oversized red flowers not too unlike rafflesia have appeared! They drink in the dim light from on high and seem to give off an earthy, yet most assuredly mystical scent. The flowers seem to reproduce by way of runners, so in effect every one that grows is a clone of the original. The first name that pops into your head is quite simply, 'Mana Flowers', for the magick that they give off. Even better, the large clutch of eggs that were awash ashore have begun to hatch under the grace of the sunlight. Baby crabs that will one day grow into might armored beasts skitter along the coast.
- Clesydros - FATES DESCISION - STORED SPELL - 1d10 + 2 (Secondary Aspect) + 1 (The First Slate) =
9Feelings of awe, of wonderment reverberate through you as the childlike Kosmites continue to be amazed by your workings. Some of the Crystalline creatures watch as the Razorwings take their flight true, while others huddle about you, almost joing you in meditation as you all ruminate on your next moves. All together, this perspective, this increased flood of emotions new and old sting deep in your heart; hardened by the ages of travel through time and space. Eventually, the nascent eyes of the Razorwings cast brief images back into the collective; first of the many pillars standing tall out of the ocean and new land surrounding the center, where you bore witness to the other seven whom now battle in these lands. Then you note that the twisting veil of starlight seems to have vanished from the central plataeu, now all that remains is the indomiatble slate stone of the Throne itself, and before it a titan of basalt in mock-human form, merely siting and pondering. Far below a cascade of carnage echoes into the collective's mind. a good number of strange horned creatures rip and tear into one another, spilling their own blood which in turn stains the soil below an awful pink-red. Whatever concotion it is seems to spring up a gnarled and chaotic life within the earth. Before you can internalize it all, you feel the rushing whirr of unrefined spatial magicks zooming past you and Anassa, south by way of the Throne land. Were it not for you expertise in the aspect, you may not have noticed such minor distortions in space. . .
Regardless, for now there is naught you can do but focus on your next task. Formulating the spell, some of the Kosmites join you in enacting your movements, though of course they've no ability to manipulate magicks of their own. You condense the space 'neath and about Anassa nad the Razorwings who each and all understand its purpose in simple terms at least. A boon in dire circumstances, when need arises, drawn forth but little more than a thought. None of which attempt to test out your theory, seeming to fully put their trust in this shared mind. Not long after, much of the sea is behind you, through the Dragonfly's crystalline eyes, you see the land encircling the marble pillar, where those chaotic beasts roam. There is an ominous air about the place as you grow closer.
- % Amon % - FATES DESCISION - TELEPORTATION - 1d10 =
6Your voice booms over the ocean, over the land, and over the many pillars that surround the Comsic Throne. Yet far be it from you to know whether or not your words had any effect true on the chaotic beasts that roam the Bedlam below, tearing one another apart for sport just to drink their own blood dry. It's difficult to say, not as if you haven't created horrible monsters before that wanted nothing more than to consume you like any other, such things tend to happen when manipulating the fabric of reality. So, as your words fall at the very least upon the ears of BoB and Gazey, you begin to focus in on the voice and emotions of the Yellow Pixelated mystic whom sent you treating before. Their concentrated joy is as a beacon now that you've shared words, not to mention the fact that they're making no attempt to conceeal their power as the battle goes underway to the south. So, you begin to channel your magicks, the stars above granting no purchase to this spell, no the rest of your aspects, realizing that teleportation is more aligned with the realm of 'spatial' magicks, or more specifically 'translocation'. Though, you are not exactly that studious kind of mage so much as you one of raw potential. Such things do not perturb nor dissuade you from casting this spell. So with a few strong words, and the weaving of your magicks, you blink out of existence in a mere moment. Gazey does just as well, leaving only the Beast of Basalt sitting upon the marble plateau as your spell finds no grasp with the distant land below nor the Methuselah in kind. In that split of time as your body, mind, and spirit travel the slipstream, you pull with all your might about the Throne, yet it does not even so much as budge, more so the spell singes you as you dare such a cosmic transgression. . .
- Shapeless Apparition - FATES DESCISION - DRILLING - 1d10 + 2 (Skill) + 3 (Equipment) =
9FATES DESCISION - AUTOMATED BUD GENERATOR - 1d10 + 1 (Secondary Aspect) =
2The Shapeless Apparition's many children immediately perk up and do as they are told, Major Buds rolling forward to the walls of the ancient colosseum, their movements rotating the gears of the equipment that your buds had manufactured earlier, in turn twisting the colourful alloyed drill heads in haste. The iron and bronze together burrow deeper and deeper still a handful of tunnels away from you, increasing the area in this cavern for which you are to grow and consume further. Every so often, the earthen bloat Minor Buds come rolling up and out of the tunnels, regurgitating their rock and soil back onto their master's form before eagerly darting back inside for another load. There will be no hope for the mystics above the earth after your great workings, after your feast. Perhaps they'll have all murdered one another by now as mortals oft' do. Maybe you'll just consume this whole Nameless World if you're feeling up to it. . . And so to expedite that process, you struggle once more, condenseing that great mass and all the magicks therein to divide once more. It's difficult at first, perhaps from the magick strain of your many bulbs that continue to pump nutrient mass into your form, eventually you manage to pop out another little node. But it's anemic, far too underdeveloped to do precisely as you wish. Some work will have to be done to coax it further, to create a powerful factory.
- Dr. Unpleasant - &
- Yellow Pixel -FATES COLLIDE! - YELLOW PIXEL VS. DR. UNPLEASANT - HAPPY SNAKE -- 1d10 + 1 (Secondary Aspect) + =
7DR. UNPLEASANT EVADES! -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) =
12!FATES DESCISION - ENLIVEN CASTLE - 1d10 =
3Streaking out like lightning from dispirate clouds on high, a massive serpent sizzling with joy and electricity both descends down, flying with alacrity towards the good Dr. Unplesant, whom leaps atop one of the mighty stone steeds. With his bronze rod at his side, the Ruby-Eyed Staff still recharging from its prior casting, the horse of dark rock gallops onward through the clay barricades, bouncing over the trenches dug as the snake of lightning stalks him overhead. It strikes into the earth, singing mere feet from the horse as it does before dancing out still emboldened by its enchantment. It weaves in and out of the air and ground all about Dr. Unplesant as he rides, just barely missing the man with each pass until eventually it sizzle out. In that moment, the mystic in black casts out a spell of his own, flitting across the sky towards the banana castle were it seems to harmlessly dissapate on its joyful walls. Unable to catch the him, Dr. Unpleasant gallops back toward the Caldera temple, uninhibbited by the second bombing run as it begins.FATES COLLIDE! - BANANA BOMBARDMENT UPON UNPLEASANT FORCES - AIRIAL BOMBING -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) + 1 (Terrain Advantage) =
4DR. UNPLEASANT TAKES COVER -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) + 2 (Mounted) =
10!ASHEN IDOLS EVADE -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) + 2 (Mounted) =
6ENKINDLED ONES TAKE COVER -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) =
8HATEFUL DEAD TAKE COVER -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) =
8With another falcons cry, and the chattering of the .squirrels, they all take another pass over the battlefield from the west, still with enough happy-packed banana bombs for one more go. As the undead forces regroup and begin to move out, now unable to be surprised by the bombing they outmaneouver the oncoming force, using this moment to advance. Even so, once more the Falcons and .squirrels carpet bomb the lands west of the Banana Castle, yet their campaign this time does little more than destroy the makeshift cover that had been built up. Their accuracy or perhaps confidence, falls ths time, unable to halt Unpleasant's forces from entering the castle where he signed an entrance, and worse still, unable to keep the Hateful Dead from sending another scattershot their way.FATES COLLIDE! - HATEFUL DEAD VOLLEY THE FALCONS - ARROW VOLLEY -- 1d10 + 1 (Skill) =
10!PIXEL FALCONS EVADE! -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) =
3((Ouch, how the dice can be so fickle.))
Another storm of bony arrowheads fly upwards into the swerving falcons. This time, it's more than a few pokes. The greatarrows find their mark true, digging deep into the hides of the great two-dimensional beasts, pixelated blood rains down from on high just as the unconscious bodies of all but one of the flying steeds. It seemed this second would be their last bombing run, those that survived their falls were quickly finished off by the hateful dead as their mounted .squirrels darted off for cover and safety. But that wasn't the end of the brutality. . . FATES COLLIDE! - CHARGE THROUGH THE CASTLE - ASHEN IDOLS ATTACK -- 1d10 + 2 (Might) + 1 (Mounted) =
8ENKINDLED ONES ATTACK -- 1d10 + 2 (Might) =
8CASTLE TRAPS! -- 1d10 =
3.SQUIRRELS COUNTERATTACK -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) - 1 (Outnumbered: POP 6 < 7) =
3JUMPING SPIDERS COUNTERATTACK -- 1d10 + 2 (Skill) - 1 (Outnumbered: POP 6 < 7) =
8Stone hooves shatter trapped floors underneath, the ashen zombies and their armour warding off the blades and darts hidden in the ceilings and walls. Unabded, the forces of the undead storm into the Banana castle, swinging their armaments and sticking errant .squirrels working supply or those who dared to fight rather than run. The dead ones did not linger to overtake the structure, rather quickly they found an exit to the east and flooded out forthwith into the quiet fields of pixel grasses and banana trees. Countless squirrels crushed by their charge, at last they are met with a cadre of Jumping Spiders, leaping off the battlements to defend their homeland with fervour. With powerful kicks and unexpected maneuverability, the spiders leap all about and clash with the assaulting army, keeping them just at bay to the east as block legs slam into horse, and clatter across sheilds. But for how long?
As Yellow Pixel soars high above the land, nearly across the castle walls atop the last remaining Pixel Falcon, it bears witness to the horror of this war. To the horror of this Cosmic Game, as their creations -- The good, lovable .squirrels are slaughtered by the dead. Even as their master retreats to his mountain. As you seethe, thinking up your next spell, you can feel the air beside you begin to warp, then in the next moment a man bearing six arms, all wreathed in the night sky, as well as strange eyeball creature bearing rock legs materialize mid-air. You share the briefest of comical gazes before they begin to fall by the slight miscalculation of their spell. This must be Amon! Come when most needed.Pixel Falcons -- Population: Few (2) -> Solitary (1)[/b]
.squirrels -- Population: Numerous (3) -> Few (2)[/b]
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Topic: The Cosmic Throne: A Magic Battle Royale -- TURN 14 (Read 26551 times)