Homebrew tabletop game system thread the II

[Kaelan]

Dirt looks at Hara and Replies in the orc tongue (at least its more fluent)

“What is it with you lot seeing magic every time an ogre picks up an instrument? If I blow down a stick with holes to make a racket does it make me a druid? How about a metal tube, a dwarf rock singer?
As for making a skeleton or ghost dance, that depends if they can feel the rhythm. I just hit this things for music as a hobby. In a good cave network the sound bounces round for miles. You really need to get more of a normal life when you get out of here. If you keep having days like this you'll end up mad.”

As for the plan Dirts goals are as follows:
a) Find dumb humans
b) Bash bad people
c) Get out of cave
d) Home for tea and sticky buns with medals all round.

[Panzersharkcat]

(OOC: Sure, why not. Will take a closer look tomorrow. I got back a few hours ago from a nine hour shift, which should only have been an eight.)

[Panzersharkcat]

"I have no disagreements with the plan as presented." If somebody translates what Dirt said, his response will be, "Just shut up and put them away. I prefer you in a state of not-being-stabbed-by-your-supposed-comrades."

[Kaelan]

OOC

OK, we’re getting at crossed threads here. Put what away? Dirt hasn’t actually taken the bongo skulls out yet. He was just contemplating how it could make matter worse given the amount of magic being thrown about the area, especially given the initial instructions to keep the magic down so as not to upset the delicate balance within the cave network.

Given how badly a bunch of ‘tolerant’ humans reacted to his last playing Dirt’s not going to chance his luck with the humans down here who are already hanging onto their sanity by a thread (playing in front of the orc would be a different matter though).

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

I thought he actually had; Hara is probably actually the most hostile to the idea- says to Dirt 'Using your enemies' skulls for bongos, yes it does, that's the whole damn' point of doing it, it is an inherently mystic gesture; you might as well be shouting 'Hello, I have spiritual powers.' Doing this at all is bad enough; playing with the bones and the meaning of the dead, especially someone who doesn't know that's what they're doing, is taking a risk we don't have to. He believes in taking risks, I don't- until you have a better idea of how the fort is going to react and how the undead we meet are going to react, safest not to, right?'

That part of the party moves on and back in to the fortress, it seems to glow very brightly for Aburon and Lisanna- no vision problems at all. Quite worrying, really. He seems to know where to go- get back to you in a bit.


The group staying behind has it's own problems when three men- in Kardren's colours- emerge a couple of minutes later from the gate of the fortress; all armed, one may be a squire- aprtial plate- and the other two men at arms in chainmail, the squire shouts 'Don't shoot, we're human'- one of the men at arms cries 'Asylum.' What do you do?

[Simon_Jester]

OOC:

Oooh, surrenders! I can think of some uses for that, but my guy...

IC:

Larric doesn't speak orcish and misses that whole byplay. Meanwhile he's trying to plan out his own response- and straining his ears, can he hear the sounds of fighting?

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

After some purposeful hurrying through the tunnels, there are sounds up ahead; but not very much of fighting. Screaming and sounds of panic, yes; and a reflected glow that looks like something very large and very fiery.

'Scarecrow one.' Aburon says- seeing through the bees. 'It's a fake baalrukh, it's a good fake but it doesn't have anything like the presence of the real thing. The ghost horse is on the left there,' pointing down the swooping double curve of one of the runes, 'the blob's on the right holding the attention of most of the people who would be able to resist the scarecrow.

The skeleton, the other scarecrow and the misery elemental are on the flank towards the centre, helping to herd this lot. One group at a time, good.'

Lisanna asks Larric 'What is it that you can do- what do you have to work with? Air, and-?'

[Simon_Jester]

IC:

"Insight, and... alchemy-magic, and anything else I've tried I wouldn't stake my life on, most of it didn't work. And, hm. Knock down the scarecrow and anyone it's holding off can run, or help us if they're strong- good place to start, no?"

OOC:

He's listing what's combat-useful; he's tried occasional feats that he knows would be classed as water magic, but wouldn't bet on it in a fight. The word we translate as "Substance" makes him nervous because it implicitly includes transmutation of the elements- not something he trusts himself to do, for reasons I'd have gone into if I'd had a chance to play more back-and-forth with Verone. So he says it the way I just described.

Just to be clear- the knight deVerett detailed to escort Lisanna is still with us? What about his retinue? And did Tamarin stay with her yeomen and Alfred?

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Ah, forgot to cover that part. Lisanna has no intention of being escorted- sees it as more of a chaperoning, and will not have it. 'Wait here.' she demands of him;

he objects- 'The baron asked it of me that-'

'That you do your best to keep me apart from any bad influences, that was what he meant and you know it. And after all the trials and troubles of the last few days, now he cares.'

He has the social grace to look embarassed. She relents slightly. 'Follow if you must, but don't get in the way.'

So yes, he is with you.

Tamarin wants to go, in the not wanting kind of way- she'd rather try to rise to the challenge of doing something she's actually terrified of than admit she doesn't want to go. May need to be persuaded.


Lisanna says to Larric 'Insight is good, if you can use it to show others- if you can persuade them that the scarecrow really is hollow. You can be quite subtle with air- it's the lightning side that calls to you, isn't it? Think of whispers on the wind, sounds, more oomph behind it pushes and pulls and pressures, stun, disorient, move, unbalance. There are a lot of complexities, options in that power.'

You're going to need them. That's when the glow brightens and the scarecrow approaches you.

[Simon_Jester]

IC:

To Tamarin, since there seems to have been more conversation going on during the "let's split up" phase than was covered at the time- "The band we have is... long on sword, short on shield. From the sound of it there's more fear than muscle out there; good shieldwork seems to count for a lot there." He glances at Tamarin's battered kite shield, which she seems to be having more luck with than with her actual sword.


Later on, when we actually encounter the first giant monster, he murmurs "So, this isn't as bad as the real thing... huh. If it's a copy of something nastier, what surely wouldn't the real thing do, or let be done? Ah."

Huge burning giant, big fiery sword/whip/both, yes? Significantly taller than human, or ogre for that matter? Larric tries fire-damping: Air and Substance, set up a Maxwell-demonic draft around it, draw away the oxygen, smother out the intimidating and shielding curls of magical fire around the creature's head and upper torso, while leaving breathable air at mere mortal altitudes. Make it look less impressive- doused, if you will.

A real balrog wouldn't let something that silly happen to it. Not by mortal hand, at any rate.

[Panzersharkcat]

Alfred's reaction to that reads, "Crap, I cannot just run in and smash that with my maul."

[Simon_Jester]

Er, Alfred (and Rohal) with the blocking force holding our escape route- he's encountering this:

The group staying behind has it's own problems when three men- in Kardren's colours- emerge a couple of minutes later from the gate of the fortress; all armed, one may be a squire- aprtial plate- and the other two men at arms in chainmail, the squire shouts 'Don't shoot, we're human'- one of the men at arms cries 'Asylum.' What do you do?

So that's your problem right there.

Now, if you were with us, having you try to charge in and knee-cap it with a sledgehammer might actually be a brilliant tactical move...

[Panzersharkcat]

(OOC: Ah, ignore that, then. I though we were still together and you managed to resolve that without me. In that case, my response comes.)

Deciding to be merciful, he declares, "Men of Kardren, I grant you asylum. Now get over here. I have a bad feeling something will happen soon and I may need your assistance."

(OOC: Any vagueness is deliberate.)

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

The scarecrow is fifteen feet tall, humanoid shaped with flesh of molten and semi- molten rock, smoke and steam wreathing it, wings of dark smoke and flame; sword and whip- there will be a moment of doubt as to whether it really is an illusion- it looms threateningly, devouringly, before Aburon says conversationally to Lisanna 'He hasn't got the head right at all.'

There follows an interesting magical duel, as it briefly brightens and looks much more present- the summoner, Hilarion, choosing to inhabit his creation, and realising he's been made. Larric's attempt to dampen it comes as he's trying to transform it into a more deadly form to get you out of the way.

The ghost horse is trotting towards you down one passageway; Aburon and Hara are moving to deal with that. There's a gurgling sound that indicates the blob is coming closer. Tamarin and Lisanna's escort are facing that way. Dirt?

How's Larric handling this- he's trytng to force through enough fire and earth into the illusion to make it a 'real' magical creature, and Larric's blowing it out and damping it down as it contracts- any tricks, any moves, bright ideas?



At the cavern entrance, there is a tinking sound- Fifi's trying to get Alfred's attention by tapping on his kneecap with her beak. Once Alfred notices, she shakes her head, meaning no. One of them doesn't smell right. Smells very, very wrong, in fact.

The other two notice. 'Tad- you're looking very...grey?' He's changing, and not for the better.

[Kaelan]

Bongo time!

Spoiler

(sorry had to get it out of the system. Will behave now. the bongos are fully away for the duration we are in the complex and won't be mentioned again - pending any special requests).

So, looking around dirt ‘see’s’ a fake daemon creature, a skeletal horse, and a strange blob.

And none of these are directly heading his way. It’s good to be non-magical in these situations. Well, if the horse is being crunched, the blob confronted (looks like magic would be better on that front), it looks like the best option is the ‘wrong headed’ scarecrow.

Dirt takes aim with his crossbow and looses a bolt at the head, thinking ‘one of these day’s I’ll learn how to wrap magic round these. Hmm maybe use a leaf based fletch or resin core. I’ll have to speak to fifi about it later’.

Bolt loosed, he will reload (if there’s time), otherwise Dirt will move in to the most pressed group that in actual combat. He’s not about to try and get between a magic will duel.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Good shot; hits it high and central in the chest as it's starting to change and sends a spray of rock fragments and fire out of it's back, and makes Larric's job of finishing it (hopefully) numerous points easier. It's reeling; there will be time to reload. Lisanna's doing the same thing, holding abck ready to abck up whoever's in trouble.

[Simon_Jester]

The scarecrow is fifteen feet tall, humanoid shaped with flesh of molten and semi- molten rock, smoke and steam wreathing it, wings of dark smoke and flame; sword and whip- there will be a moment of doubt as to whether it really is an illusion- it looms threateningly, devouringly, before Aburon says conversationally to Lisanna 'He hasn't got the head right at all.'

There follows an interesting magical duel, as it briefly brightens and looks much more present- the summoner, Hilarion, choosing to inhabit his creation, and realising he's been made. Larric's attempt to dampen it comes as he's trying to transform it into a more deadly form to get you out of the way...

How's Larric handling this- he's trytng to force through enough fire and earth into the illusion to make it a 'real' magical creature, and Larric's blowing it out and damping it down as it contracts- any tricks, any moves, bright ideas?

OOC:

Some of my statements are conditional because, again, I don't know how the rules work. Were we sitting around a table I'd do what makes sense mechanically; if the actions I describe thematically might not make sense mechanically, I throw out sheet anchors because of it.

IC:

Our melee types aren't barging into the thing like he'd thought might happen, so Larric feels no particular urge to ensure breathable air at ground level- if appropriate he'd sweep the zone of effect downward.

I doubt that would be appropriate; presumably concentrated effects are more potent, and I'd rather we end up with a fire monster that doesn't exist at all from the breastbone up than a damped-down fire monster that exists 80% of the way all over its body. Fighting a thing with no eyes or brain is easier.



Trick One- I guess it's just following advice and taking other people's word for it, but Insight. "You're not real, there's nothing really there and you know it- no one who's seen the real thing is impressed." The illusion is not merely disbelieved, it's unbelievable, the necromancer is pouring his will into a nonexistent cipher, a conjecture, a dream that lacks even the solidity of a proper prophetic vision.

Resist Magic may also be applicable; I wouldn't know.

The object here is to make this duel fought on two levels at the same time- the physical-magical "I want there to be fire here and you don't" plane, but also the memetic-magical "is there a "here" for fire to be?" plane. That makes it complicated. And complexity favors the man who's only got one thing on his mind. And right now that's Larric, because he's not the one trying to coordinate a horde of magic slaves scattered all over a bunker complex.



Trick Two- probably not to be used simultaneous with Trick One and less impressive- is that Larric does at least know a few cooling tricks, associated with Water magic. He'd never bet his life on them alone, but if it's at all possible (depends on details of ruleset), he weaves them in to accelerate the fire-damping process. That probably won't change things much one way or the other; Trick One is more important.

Verone would try this in a shot, even limited to Larric's skill set...

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

The short version is that the scale of the effect you can achieve, as well as the reach, is determined by your Power, and smaller effects cost less, larger effects cost more; more intricate effects are only possible at closer ranges, power is a given, skill has to be rolled against-

Resist would not be applicable, as it more or less directly contradicts what Larric's trying to do; like trying to accelerate out of trouble with one foot firmly on the brake. If the spellwork doesn't come off, then use it.

Also, description helps- not merely for information, but a good description gets things to bouce off of, ideas tp play with, and probable bonuses.

Hilarion lives up to his reputation; with only one sixth (at most- he still has to walk and beathe and things) of his mind on the job is is a wearying, brutal experience for Larric- every twist of wit matched, every move to dismiss met by a shift in defence, effort wasted on a crumbling image while a solid core starts to emerge. On the memetic- magical plane it is more or less a tie- a high scoring tie, but a tie nonetheless.

Larric can bring more of his power to bear, more of his strength of will, and that is what tips the scales on the physical- magical end. It billows and flares and spends itself, stumbling towards Larric attempting to devour him, but crumbling in a shower of forge- sparks and blastof hot air- not quite hot enough to burn.

Larric will be off Hilarion's godsday card list, for a start. Probably onto the enemies list, but that was likely anyway.

[Panzersharkcat]

Trusting Fifi's instincts, he calls out to the three he just accepted. "Halt!" Noting the one changing color and acting on instinct as to how to move hostile magic away, he tries to shove Tad as far away as possible by basically "spearing" him with the maul.

[Simon_Jester]

OOC:

A man like that has a long enemies list; maybe Larric will get mislaid in the shuffle.

IC:

"Whew! Hot work..." The alchemist turns around; what's happening on the other fronts?

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

The ghost horse situation is under control; Aburon is calming it and preparing it to depart to whatever kind of next life dumb animals get, and Hara's covering his back.

The blob is proving more troublesome, and Lisanna is heading that way- it does seem to be a real physical danger; kind of hard to disbelieve in something when you can feel it trying to eat you, and it is not easy to listen to the screams and cries for help of somebody being eaten and dismiss them as imaginary and illusory.


At the main gate, the grey- faced man at arms looks down- he gets pushed at first like a sack of turnips, stumbles abck but then there is real resistance, as if he suddenly weighs several times as much. He looks stunned, surprised by what's happenign to him; a little blood starts trickling out of the corner of his mouth, and his muscles seem to be moving of their own accord.

He's not about to take on beast form; the smell's wrong, very wrong- he smells more like a recent corpse than anything else.

[Simon_Jester]

Larric nods to Dirt, waves at the blob. "I'm going that way. You with me?"


All right, blob's real- a substance, apparently a corrosive one. Larric tries to size things up quickly, get answers to a number of questions:

-How fluid is it? Does it look like a bag of water held together by surface tension and magic? More like an animated lump of clay? Somewhere in between? You can cut up a thing made out of clay, where a watery target would just flow back together around the blade.

-Roughly how large is it- how much volume? The size of a man? A horse? bigger?

-Has anyone succeeded in chopping pieces off of it? If so, are the pieces animate like the main blob? That affects how easy it is to wear down the thing's mass

-How easily does it 'wrap around' obstacles such as shields? Can it extend long pseudopods? Does it have to maintain a relatively gentle surface curvature?

-Does it show any sign of sentience- awareness of threats to its well-being, which it might counter by doing things like trying to grab weapons away from their owners? Or is it just mindlessly flowing along trying to eat everything in its path?

[Panzersharkcat]

He decides that's enough for him and tries to take the guy's head off with his maul.

[Kaelan]

"I'm going that way. You with me?"

Hefting the crossbow, "Yep, Test shot".

Dirt will loose a bolt at the blob (to the side, not centre of mass just in case). Most likely won't do much, but at least it will give an indication at a safe distance of what physical contact will result in.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

The blob is large- larger than human size, about eight hundred pounds maybe, and it is looks as if it is more or less the consistency of muscle; whether that's what the creator thought of it as or what it was cobbled together out of, best not think too hard.
Small movements are fast, large movements are slow- it has more of itself than it really knows what to do with by the looks of it; it's reducing itself to three or four fighting pseudopods, it can reach far but the core of it moves at little more than jogging speed.
The outer surface is greyish- brown and tough, it seems to get redder further in.
Hitting it seems to make it slower and stiffer, and less agile; nothing's been cut off it yet, although that may be from want of sufficient hitting.
It is fighting competently- blocking, parrying, looking for openings, deliberate strikes and defences; even if it is intelligent, though, I doubt it's much of a conversationalist.

Dirt shoots it; not an easy shot, too much happening around it, he has to time it to avoid any of the people trying to hack and stab it- gets a hit, just; the thing spasms, twitches, sludges to one side- the bolt's embedded; the blob reaches a pseudopod up and pulls it out. Bets against that getting chucked back?
(A curious thought will just have crossed Dirt's mind; wonder what kind of potting compost that thing would make?)



At the front gate, Alfred swings for the man at arms; makes contact- but not where he was expecting. The target has swelled; burst out of his skin, in fact- and there's more of him in there than there should have been. Approximately ten feet tall, in fact, with five arms. From at least five different donors.
When you're putting together a fighting monster from the donated body parts of the dismembered, why stop at normal? Reanimated corpses; it's only harder if they look completely inhuman, not impossible. Unfortunately. Alfred's maul lands, breaks something- a good hit- but there's a lot more of it to go.