Frederick: {80}
Strike a medical pose. {5}
Triad: {73}
Get chain mail and a karate spear. {4}
Sleeper: {53}
FIND MORE BOOZE! CARRY AROUND AN EXTRA SUPPLY! {6}
Dragnar: {51}
(Auto:) I practice my swinging my sword around. {1}
Injury roll: {2}
Pain roll: {4}
Korbin: {19}
Clean off the blood, then stealthily make my way towards the nice gated village, looking for anything of interest. {3}
Turn 06: A Noseless Intimidator!?
Smell is important, too.
Water begins to trickle from the smoky-grey sky. Over the past hour, the colour of the sky has been shifting. A storm is coming. The people in the slums don’t care; their lives are soaked with despair. Rain needn’t affect them. The spontaneous group of adventurers, on the other hand…
The balding up-and-coming surgeon, Frederick, ignores the humid atmosphere! He walks out of the warehouse and onto the streets, and, noting the depressed peasants, decides to cheer them up. Tugging on his invisible gloves, he loudly states (in an offensive accent, no less),
“Anuzha successful procedure!” At first, it seemed as if the onlookers were shocked — horrified, even. Yet they did not let out an angry shout... their faces showed not anger, but awe. They were genuinely impressed with Frederick’s skills.
Perhaps the sight of a significantly bloodied Triad strolling out of the nearby warehouse, a leather patch clearly visible, sutured into her skin, was what truly drove the peasants to believe in Frederick. They had seen neither true surgery, nor true medicine before. What the priests had concocted over the years was hardly a science, be it blood-letting or leeching. Frederick’s prowess was godlike to them.
For the first time in the months since the plague had arrived, the citizens could honestly hope for a cure; a prodigy was there, right before their eyes! Incredulous looks followed Frederick everywhere he went, and in time, an orphaned child worked up the courage to speak to this brilliant man,
“Can… you save us? “, he stuttered, awaiting a response from Frederick. His siblings looked on with eyes that were blazing with aspiration.
While this heartwarming scene was happening, Triad was continuing on with her business; specifically, acquiring a weapon and armor. Perhaps she was fueled by revenge, or maybe she truly thought nothing of the recent attack from Korbin. Maybe her mind was too focused on violence to care about peaceful solutions to anything; the true motive behind her actions remains unknown. Entering into the armoury, she grabbed a wooden staff along with some chainmail. Spinning the spear as a baton, she realized that using it in combat was similar to the martial arts she had practiced earlier. It would be easy to adapt her learned techniques! She was, however, upset by a drunken fool master rushing out of the building quickly!
Sleeper hungered. He hungered for alcohol. Driven forth by just the burning passion in his heart (and fear of an alcohol-induced migraine), he broke out into a sprint! Within a minute, he had located a tavern! Though it was in disrepair, he didn’t concern himself with such trivial matters. Busting down the stone wall with his head, he entered and began to pound on the ground, attempting to determine where the cellar was. The floor collapsed! Amidst the rubble and dust, he couldn’t see much… but he did vaguely make out the glint of a bottle of wine.
Jumping to his feet, he charged at the bottle! By the time his eyes adjusted to the low-light conditions of the cellar, he was truly amazed at what he had found. Bottles of wine everywhere, all on racks; there must’ve been at least 90 of them. This was not what surprised him, however. Behind the wine, there were several large wooden kegs, undoubtedly filled to the brim with booze. Salivating madly, Sleeper tore a length of rope off the wall and picked up one of the kegs. He attached it to his back using the rope, providing a significant source of booze should he ever run dry!
Supply: secured. Engage refilling.
Sleeper was ecstatic about this turn of events, so ecstatic, in fact, that he decided to drain an entire keg. Tearing the lid off the closest, using all his might, he lifted it up to his lips and drained it. Every last drop. Yes, 50 liters of beer. No, this shouldn’t be possible. Enough said.
Dragnar is fortunately far away from this hell of impossibilities and unlikelihoods. He resides safely within the walls of his own mind. Perhaps his proximity to the armoury’s thick walls helps this. Closing his eyes, trying to pretend he’s not in such a terrible situation, he begins to swing his sword. Wildly at first, trying to get a feel for the weight of the blade. The word ‘caution’ doesn’t seem to mean anything to Dragnar, as he haphazardly lops off his nose. He now has an exceptionally scary face as well as a heavily bleeding hole where his nose used to be. Fortunately the nose itself is still intact, albeit on the ground. Dragnar grits his teeth and endures the pain quite well.
Meanwhile, a stealthy, ragged spearman sneaks around the city, paying great attention to everything he sees. His movements are slow, careful, cautious, and he slowly inches his way towards the only location with any sort of culture. He is, of course, stopped in his tracks by meters high stone walls, and an iron gate blocks the only entrance. Guards and crossbowmen patrol the walls regularly, so breaking in would be an uphill battle. Suddenly remembering the need to clean his spear, he checks it, only to notice that the rain has washed the blood off! What convenient timing.
Status: Ecstatic. Has recently discovered incredible medical skills. Is faced with a moral dilemma. Wet.
Inventory: Rusty shiv , sewing kit.
Skills: Skilled Paramedic (1/4 xp to rank up), Ambusher (0/3xp to rank up), Surgeon (1/3 xp),
Abilities: Impressive doctor, but still human.
Status: Good. He has made a decent armour acquisition recently. Covered in blood. Wet.
Inventory: Exceptional Steel Spear, bloody. Iron chainmail.
Skills: Martial Artist (2/3 xp to rank up), Searcher (1/3 xp to rank up), Spearsman (1/3 xp to rank up),
Abilities: Halfway towards learning Minor Prepared Concentration
Status: Injured. .Is starting to look like a traveller. Disliked by both beggars and looters. Has no nose. Is bleeding heavily.
Inventory: Engraved Exceptional Steel Claymore Iron chainmail.
Skills: Skilled Searcher (0/4 xp to level up], Dabbling Swordsman (1/2 xp to level up)
Abilities: 100% human.
Status: Impossibly intoxicated.
Inventory: Keg (50 liters) attached to back.
Skills: An unskilled laborer.
Abilities: Minor Intoxicated Agility.
Status: Mostly patched up. Wound may become infected, but symptoms will take time to show. Collapsed lung, but otherwise okay.
Inventory: Iron chainmail,, Staff.
Skills: Skilled Martial Artist (0/4 xp to next rank)
Abilities: Truly lacking.
A strangely out-of-place storehouse. Filled with boxes, booze, and exceptional weapons. Blood coats the floor.
A run-down street. Beggars and orphans litter the sides of the road. Frederick is here, involved in a moral dilemma with an orphan child.
An armoury filled with weapons and armour. Sharp spears litter the floor. Currently inside: Triad, Dragnar, Dragnar’s nose.
To the north of the streets. Appears to be surrounded by high walls, with a single gate being the only way in. Guards regularly patrol the inside.
A tavern filled with booze. Currently Sleeper is inside.
The streets surrounding the Town Hall and other important buildings. There is a high wall between the two places. Currently, Korbin is here.
Bah, this turn was a bit long. Do you guys prefer longer or shorter turns?
Author
Topic: Awakening: Turn 13: Blood. (Read 13591 times)