Dragnar: {75}
Consciousness roll: {4}
I will try to stop the bleeding while searching for some greaves. {4}
Luck: {3}
Triad: {66}
Go to the Street, And hire them some of the various orphans and homeless people to become my lackey- compadres with a rousing speech. Use connection with Fredrick to my advantage. {1}
Korbin: {43}
Kill a guard, take his uniform, then dump his body off the wall. {6}
Spear attack:
{6}Guard defense roll: {1}
Spear injury roll:
{6}Landing roll: {4}
Sleeper: {41}
Drunken master boogie over to the peasants, then impress them with tales of my intoxication. {2}
Frederick: {2}
Invent antibiotics. {5}
Luck: {4}
Turn 07: A Rousing Speech!? Hardly.
Some people simply aren't meant to be leaders.
Blood gushes forth from Dragnar’s face, covering his clothing. Undeterred, he tears off a piece of cloth and ties it around his head, covering the hole where his nose once sat. The bandage is quickly soaked with blood, but it seems to be doing its job. His bleeding has been substantially reduced. Searching from corner to corner, he looks for something to put on his legs; shins, specifically. He doesn’t find any greaves, but he does find a pair of leather pants and some shoes! He looks completely different now; chainmail, pants, shoes, and a sword — none of the beggars or thieves will recognize him. His reputation has returned to normal!
Triad smiles as she walks out of the busted-down door of the armoury, her staff slung across her back. She had a plan, a brilliant one. Killing the mayor would be difficult without an army, so then the logical thing to do was to gather one. She collects all the peasants and orphans she can find, gathering them around her in a circle.
“Now, peons. My name is Triad, and I will make you my meatshields and lead you to a GLORIOUS DEATH! If you serve under me, the brilliant patient of that doctor guy, then good things will happen! We can kill the mayor. Furthermore, if you don't die, and are simply injured, I will get the good doctor to patch you up! I bet he can even build robot arms. Don't you guys want to be robots?! Who's with me?!”
…no one is with her. The crowd quickly disperses.
Korbin takes action into his own hands. He examines the 30” wall, trying to figure out a way to get up on top. The wall was surprisingly smooth, climbing it would be impossible. You have to remember, though, that this is a man who viciously impaled his sparring partner, and then walked away to grab some armour, without a second thought. Walls aren’t going to stop him. Crouching down, summoning his latent energy, he focuses on his legs. Imagining the muscles in his legs all suddenly extending far beyond what should be possible, he let’s go of reality and jumps.
A rocket-propelled purple-haired man was later seen soaring over the stone wall that surrounded the city’s last refuge.
A slight smirk crossed his face. He had reached the apex of his jump, and within seconds he would begin to fall. It’s important to note something, however; he was prepared. Grabbing his spear, he pushed it out in front of himself, at first in an attempt to secure a safe landing. A better idea rushed through his head — he would impale a guard on his way down. He spotted an archer aiming at him; a perfect target. Reorienting himself towards the lone guard, he adjusted his flight path. Travelling at almost terminal velocity, the impact occurred. The guard hadn’t a clue what happened, for he didn’t live long. The spear had bisected him vertically and was now lodged in the ground beneath his feet. The guard exploded in chunks of gore!
Chuckling to himself, Korbin tore his spear out of the tower wall. Surprisingly, the tip was intact. Perhaps there was more to this spear than he first thought. Even so, the guard's uniform was far from okay. Rather, it was shattered into several pieces. Even more, the entire city guard had been alerted to his presence! Korbin realized this, and simply continued his laughter.
Sleeper began to walk over to the crowd which Triad had collected earlier, but in his drunken stupor, he tripped. Fortunately the alcohol was alright, but he was a little bit worse for wear.
Frederick has previously been established as the genius medical ex-lawyer prodigy, but his most recent accomplishment served only to further reinforce this simple fact. As the starving orphan child requested his assistance, Frederick wouldn’t dare refuse.
“I… can do it.”
“Really?!”, the children screamed in unison. Hope gushed through them, and even the beggars which had long since given up lifted their heads.
To be honest, Frederick had no idea where to begin. His limited surgical knowledge he had learned on the spot, but he wasn’t afraid to try. He gave it his best, and he set off. Corpses were everywhere, no matter which direction one looked. He had plenty of material to experiment on. Finding a suitable corpse, he began to drag it into a dryer area. Tugging it by its arm, the little-remaining muscle gave way. Letting out a curse, he dropped the dismembered arm and moved on.
A wave of realization hit him; not everyone infected with the plague died. He vaguely remembered reading history books that stated a miniscule amount survived, and that those who survived gained a higher chance of immunity to the virus, should it ever strike again. Approaching the nearest peasant, he asked if anyone had contracted the disease but then made a complete recovery. There was one, but he was within the section of the town reserved for nobles, surrounded by high walls. Contacting him would be impossible.
Any lesser men would’ve given up at this point, but Frederick was determined. Everyone in this town would eventually die if he gave up now. No matter what obstacles appeared in front of him, Frederick rose to the challenge — he would overcome them. Scanning the area once again, he located a church. It could hold what he needed to complete his task!
It was boarded up, but the nails were rusted and the wood wet. Tearing them off was a simple task. Once inside, he passed through the rows of seats, the pews, and entered the monk’s offices. Back here was where monks performed their duties not directly associated with the church; glassmaking, charting the stars. Finding a simple telescope, Frederick worked the lenses. He had a vague memory of microscopes from a particularly boring assignment in middle-school, and he was able to construct a ridiculously simple one.
Many corpses were scattered around the church, mostly people who had come to make their last wishes to God before their death. As there was decay, there were rats… and with rats, fleas which carried the hellish virus. None of this mattered. Frederick wasn’t concerned about merely curing the plague, his aspirations reached higher than even the gods themselves could comprehend. He aimed to recreate modern medicine in the 14th century without any equipment or modern materials.
With his rusty shiv, he drew his own blood and poured it onto a small glass sheet. Examining it through his makeshift microscope, he came to understand medicine as a whole. Poking and prodding, he introduced bacteria to it and watched them interact. Waiting for something important to happen, he searched his surroundings; the monks had materials for treating injuries — they studied medicine too, after all. With a bit of luck, he found a cabinet loaded with herbs of all sorts. With a mortar and pestle, he ground them to dust, drank them, catalogued their effects. He drew more of his own blood, tested it against various bacterias.
Through trial and error and hours of work completed in minutes, he had found a combination of herbs, that, when mixed, significantly increased the body’s rate of eliminating bacterial scum! It wasn’t perfect, and it may not even work against the vicious plague, but it was worth a shot. With vials and vials filled with his own mixture, he sets foot out into the rain once again, ready to hand them out to the countless infected civilians.
Status: Godly. Has recently invented modern medicine from scratch.
Inventory: Rusty shiv , sewing kit. Antibiotics.
Skills: Skilled Paramedic (1/4 xp to rank up), Ambusher (0/3xp to rank up), Surgeon (1/3 xp), Skilled Doctor (1/4 xp to rank up)
Abilities: Godly doctor, but nothing else of note.
Status: A little blood-crazy. Has caused an enemy to explode lately. Wet.
Inventory: Exceptional Steel Spear, bloody. Iron chainmail.
Skills: Martial Artist (2/3 xp to rank up), Searcher (1/3 xp to rank up), Skilled Spearsman (2/4 xp to rank up),
Abilities: Halfway towards learning Minor Prepared Concentration Minor Physics-Defying Jumping
Status: Injured. Looks like a traveler. Has no nose. Is bleeding lightly.
Inventory: Engraved Exceptional Steel Claymore Iron chainmail. Leather pants, shoes.
Skills: Skilled Searcher (2/4 xp to level up], Dabbling Swordsman (1/2 xp to level up)
Abilities: 100% human.
Status: Impossibly intoxicated. Has fallen and cannot get up.
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. Has alienated beggars and orphans.
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, ready to dispense medicine to everyone who is infected. Sleeper and Triad are also here.
An armoury filled with weapons and armour. Sharp spears litter the floor. Currently inside: 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. Currently Korbin is on the walls, and the guards are alerted to his presence.
A tavern filled with booze.
The streets surrounding the Town Hall and other important buildings. There is a high wall between the two places.
A decrepit old church filled with Frederick’s brilliant medical notes and equipment.
So… I’ve pretty much proved my ignorance regarding medicine, but yeah, I had to write something. That was painfully long, so feel free to skip the paragraphs involving Frederick.
Summary: He finds a church, makes medicine, and can now save the town.
Also, looking back, I’ve butchered the English language so badly… my tenses are inconsistent everywhere I look — it’s a wonder anyone bothers to read it.
I’ll try and hold off on posting such long turns from now on, it’s just surprisingly difficult to have a character do something ridiculously impossible in a paragraph without, “You materialize the vaccine in your hands!”
I’ll probably need to revise the rules sooner or later, since everyone is ranking up quickly; we’ll see how it goes.
Author
Topic: Awakening: Turn 13: Blood. (Read 13698 times)