Homebrew tabletop game system thread the II

[Simon_Jester]

OOC:

'The ride took him

IC:

"You do need a doctor, milady; I'll see what I can work out. Dirt, could you help me keep straight what they're saying?"

OOC MK II:

(I'm very sorry, but I have to go now for a while longer. I'll post more when I get back)

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

The jittery one starts shouting- in elvish, but enough of it is understandable. If he had a shred of concept of where he is left to him, he wouldn't, because it is deeply, deeply unwise.

His friend starts trying to shut him up, but about half way through gives up and starts humming what you thik is probably a death song.

Home and harmony, gardens laid out in perfect cosmic alignment, nature into shape and pattern, life following the plans of order and order growing into life, wonder and grace- nd then the humans came and trampled on and destroyed everything.
Short, dumpy, smelly, blob- eyed and still half blind, greedy stupid, just like rats, big rats, no soul, practically interchangeable-

Fifi offers him one of her tidbits. He obviously needs it more than she does. He keeps ranting.

-made of mud and apparently spontaneously coming from same, they break and destroy anything they don't understand starting with each other, don't know why, they're simple enough, vermin, polluting the world-

Fifi stings him. Like a nettle or a thistle, she's prickly- not irritant, that wouldn't be much use to a carnivorous plant; anaesthetic. He has a hilariously bad reaction to it, as if his immune system decides it's not worth bothering about, and it really, really is. He makes a sort of 'eep' noise and falls face first onto the table.

He's probably still breathing, for the moment anyway.

Actions?


Oh, and I'm going to be away this weekend- heck of a moment to leave it on pause, but the show should be fun, assuming it's not underwater. Back Sunday.

[Simon_Jester]

OOC:

Sorry I took so long. Hmmm.

IC:

Larric glances at Dirt. "Is 'Fifi-' the elf- will he live?" Presumably the ogre knows his own plant's venom.

OPTION A:

If he gets a confident yes, he turns to the other elf. The alchemist is at heart a peaceable man, he tries to let it show. "Maybe you two will never believe it, but I'd be as glad for you and yours to live, if you'll stop warring on everyone around you. How long will anyone, any person, any creature, any time, anywhere, live if they lie and poison and lash and snarl at every living thing around them? There has to be an end to it, has to. If nothing else, we've got to learn to live like hedgehogs- honor each others' bristles, and deal square with each other."

OPTION B:

If he gets a giant hand waving back and forth with a "maybe" or some such, he calls over to Randolf and Tamarin "We've trouble here- can you save this one? He's a loony, but he's more trouble dead than alive."

[Kaelan]

Always knew that those medical and herbal skills would come in handy!
Using his knowledge of Fifi (bad plant) as well as herbs, surgery and mostrology (are elves monsters?) Dirt will render the required assistance to the downed elf. With luck the answer will be as follows:

OOC - below is pending ECR saying that Dirt succeeds. Otherwise I’m guessing all hell is going to break lose (not my fault this time).

Back IC:

Dirt checks out the sleeping elf, “Just sleeping. He OK.”
Looking at the other remaining (and hopefully sane elf) he will address him in own tongue.

“My dear sir. far be it for me, a mere humble servant of our most affluent and gracious lordship to cause you any distresses, but allow me to interject a modicum of my most limited foresight into you erstwhile situation.

This region where your peregrination has taken you though has had a minor altercation with your fellow kindred in the recent past. In light of this I would request, nay strongly urge you to review you current predicament. My companion who is currently engaging you colloquy has the capability to commute the current expected outcome should you decide to stay the current course you are set upon, though far be it for me to dictate what you are determined on. Though recent history has expanded the tracks of land attainable to those who are amenable to favourable discourse with his lordships envoys.

Suffice it to say that I would urge you to acquiesce unto him, and thus by extension his lordship, yourselves for safekeeping. They are both honourable in their discourse with those within their kind and those without. The situation within our current abode is tenuous with poor prospects for yourselves and kin.”

Recalling the initial look of confusion the party gave Dirt when he spoke to them, he will remember that he is no longer talking to a svartalfven where the wrong word will cause an internal war for several decades.

“In short, He is trying to keep you alive. Go with him and converse where it is safe, it will work out better for you and your people if you can reach a suitable accord. I will watch your companion”

[Simon_Jester]

OOC:

Dirt is awesome.

Which "his lordship" do you mean, Kaelan?

[Kaelan]

Which "his lordship" do you mean, Kaelan?

Dirt Left the Lordship vague for a couple of reasons
1 – Just in case there is real bad blood between the elves and our new found baron
2 – Dirt is still trying to get to grips with who the Lordship is given the number of contenders he has met (and the fact that most humans look the same to him).
3 – He doesn’t want to drop the countesses name just yet as that would probable make the matter here worse.
As Dirt knows Larric & Alfred (and to a lesser extent Lisanna) he’s willing to leave the ultimate allegiance of which lord they serve up to them as he only really concerns himself with what he considers ‘immediate’ leadership and has yet to truly grasp the concept of ruling from beyond view (he just knows that its and elf and human thing), though he is starting to slowly get there.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Well, that was pointless- I was supposed to be at this; http://www.kelmarsh.com/whatson/upcomin ... fault.aspx- but torrential rain and the subsequent flooding got the entire event cancelled. We got too bogged in to leave on the saturday, and also for reasons of beer. Made it away this morning- the organisers are going to take a big financial hit, no gate money. Not a good result at all. The really infuriating thing is that it was glorious sun today and drying out as we left; bloody weather.



The stung elf has gone into shock; he's going to need help. Would normally be more resistant, and the prickly spines are usually just a mild paralytic, but poor diet has compromised his immune system [that and the resist poison critical failure, anyway]- he'll probably survive, with medical attention.

Fifi looks confused; she was trying to help, stop him digging himself into trouble, calm him down a bit before he drew his swords- and the pheromones gave it away, he was on the edge- but she didn't expect him to flop completely and start fighting for breath. She's prodding him with her beak, which isn't spiny, trying to wake him up.

'You're wrong.' the other one says to Larric. 'There doesn't have to be an end to each against all, only a beginning- and you,' to Dirt, obviously starting out to snarl, call him something like an abomination for his mangling of the language, a walking ox, something like that, then composes himself and says 'Perhaps...it is not the world I know that you describe, but perhaps that is the issue. Shall we discuss this in cooler air?'

Are you going to trust him a far as you could spit him?

[Kaelan]

Are you going to trust him a far as you could spit him?

That's Larrics & Co. call.
Dirt is going to try to get started on saving the dying elf beside him. Based on his medical skills what's the diagnosis (and hopeful cure)?

[Simon_Jester]

Larric would normally trust the elf as far as he could throw him. The elf is probably better at hand to hand combat, and would most likely throw Larric. Thus, a negative distance.

Under present circumstances, Larric trusts the elf about as far as Dirt can throw him. A good deal farther, though still not out of eyeshot. He calls to Randolf- "Someone's in trouble over here! We need you!" If he can get Randolf over to help, he moves to step two- can Dirt leave matters to Randolf and come outside with Larric and the elf?


If so, Larric tries to bring Dirt and the elf both outside, telling the townsfolk: "I think we can settle this without anyone getting hurt. Just hold on."


If Larric doesn't have the big friendly cannibal giant for backup, he's first going to suggest that he and the elf both put down their weapons and leave them somewhere they won't be immediately at hand, while talking outside. Larric doesn't want to get filleted if Reasonable Elf decides that he likes Twitchy Elf's thinking.

Larric will be only momentarily surprised if the elf is reluctant to do this because oh, right, wizard.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Diagnosis is adverse drug reaction to Fifi's anaesthetic prickles, basically; treatment is alchemical- something stimulant, for a start, then once he starts breathing normally monitor him, and feed him when he wakes up. Can be done, and he stops twitching. Fifi is looking embarrassed, but her suspicions haven't really gone away- she thinks he smells like a hungry jackal. Not a nice being. (You know, she might be right.)

[Kaelan]

Dirt will pass on the information (he has no stimulants on him that he would trust to an elf body) and depart with Larric, at a respectable distance (but close enough to reach the elf). He picks up Fifi and his equipment as they leave.

[Panzersharkcat]

(OOC: OK, I'm back. Don't quite see where Alfred is supposed to be, though.)

[Simon_Jester]

IC:

Well, Larric's not leaving for outside until Randolf weighs in. I could assume he does, but I'd be more comfortable if Vehrec said so. We haven't heard from him in a while.

OOC:

Our handwaved justification for your not being around seems to be that Alfred doubled over with a coughing fit- leftover effects from the zombie powder. He might be all right now, mind you.

[Vehrec]

Randolf points at two farmers and yells at them to help him unload his mules-he can do it quickly or without making a mess of his luggage, but not both. Meanwhile, he takes a quick stab at treatment plans, figuring the odds that magic now will make this worse instead of better, or if he should administer something Right Now, and use the magics later.

Then he remembers that he has two farmers unloading his pack mules and hurries outside to yell at them some more to make sure they go to the right mule and help him get the right things.

(Do we need any rolls for any of this?)

[Simon_Jester]

The noisy physician is now in charge of that bit, and I think I trust him to get it right.

So, agree with the elf's suggestion, and take it outside into cooler air. Larric brings Dirt and the elf both outside, telling the townsfolk: "I think we can settle this without anyone getting hurt. Just hold on."

To the elf, as they go outside: "All right, you don't believe in ends to wars, can you at least believe in stopping to catch your breath? It wasn't too long ago I was packing up and moving away from a burned-out town. 'Go looking for trouble' wasn't the first thing on my mind. If it had, I'd not want it like this- it's a bad time for you to start up a war again with a new lot of enemies. You and us, your friend in bad shape, your people coming up, hundreds of the baron's troops coming down..."

[if the elf doesn't react to that, he's got one hell of a poker face]

"...Now, that doesn't mean you should be altogether out of luck today. Let's just deal square, all right? How much food do you really need, and how might you pay for it aside from bewitching it out of people and leaving them to starve?"

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Damn, lost a post there- to reconstruct;

Larric's not sure if it's a poker face or a thousand yard stare, but there really isn't much in the way of reaction. He's less touched in the head than his end-of-the-string friend, but there's something missing there too. Registers it, but calmly.

'What we really need is a new home, and a breeding herd of meat and wool animals is a step towards that foundation of a new community, up in the trees away from humans and the blood and misery you spread in your wake, vandals-

pay? everything we have is purposeful, or it would have been left behind- as so many things had to be. Their deaths from poverty would have been an acceptable solution.'

[Simon_Jester]

Larric is trying not to get too angry to think straight. It just got a bit harder, but he's pretty good at it, so he can probably still manage.

"Acceptable. How acceptable is it if it hundreds of angry men with swords are chasing you because you just walked off with their lunch? If I were in your shoes, I'd wonder- everything you have is purposeful, you said. More purposeful than the herd you're looking for? Or less? Which of it could matter, in the end, if you start off your new realm by picking fights you can't win on days you'd do lucky to break even?"

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

'We seem to have come to an impasse.' the elf says- and what happens next seems highly unreasonable. Yes, there is violence.

The elf goes for Larric- an attack and a dodge- it's not a very good attack and Larric should be half expecting it, but it's done without hesitation, by a being without options;

Larric is hit in the gut, then grabbed and hauled upright, a shortsword to his throat- the elf's trying to use him as a human shield from Dirt.

Actions?

[Simon_Jester]

Larric was, indeed, half expecting it- the shortsword was an unexpected bit though.

So instead of making like an electric eel he tries magnetism- a twist in the metal, out from himself- push that sword away with whatever combination of muscle and magic he can muster, and try to slip loose. Definitely a do-or-die: consider it overcharged, if that matters.

[Panzersharkcat]

He gets up, recovered from the zombie dust coughing fit. He sees Larric being held at swordpoint and swears under his breath. He looks around for Rohal. If he sees him, he'll give a nod that tries to imply that he should get behind the elf with a crossbow. If not, or he's not understood, either way he walks towards the elf and demands, "Who are you and what in the bleeding Hells are you doing with my alchemist?" just around the time Larric does his magnetism thing.

[Vehrec]

OOC: Where is Randolf during all this? Inside, outside, able to Shape that blade to loose it's edge?

[Panzersharkcat]

(OOC: I don't know where you are. I just assumed my guy just happened to be in the right place when he recovered.)

[Kaelan]

One word from Dirt, “Stop”, arms slightly away from his axe, fifi on the ground.

Then he goes on in svartalfven
“Not a very rational act. Now let’s take a breath and try again. We don’t want anybody to get hurt, nor start a conflict. Why don’t we recap what you need. You’re saying you need Food, seeding crops, livestock, and a place to settle. You know that this village can’t really provide what you need and taking it by force will only cause more problems. But we can reach a reasonable accord on this.
My companion there has asked what you could offer in terms of payment. You’ve told us that you have nothing spare but I think you have spent too long in this human village and are thinking short term. After all these years I am sure that you have skills that you could teach these humans. Show them how to increase their crop yield for instance.
Whilst this village can’t supply you with what you need, the Baron has a vast number to draw upon. A few hundred elves is not such a hardship that he can’t spare the effort to help. The chances are all that he would ask would be assistance in the future. If you can reach a favourable agreement he may even be willing to grant lands for you to settle in, even protection maybe?
But all this is going to fall apart if you slay his envoy. He can’t treat in good faith with you if you do this, nor your kin. So let’s slowly put away our weapons away and restart talking again.”

Dirt’s really hoping it doesn’t come to violence, but will take his next action based on what the elf does next. I don’t think he can cross the distance fast enough at this exact moment (Up to ECR to say how far apart everybody is and where we are standing).

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Locations; Randolf is inside, with the stung elf, Tamarin and most of the locals; Alfred went outside to get some clearer air, and is out there- on the elf's left, about ten feet away.

Rohal went to scout for the main body of them; and interesting things should be happening in that direction soon.

Larric tries to push the shortsword away, and can feel it starting to succeed- the elf doesn't have time and energy to wrestle him for it, essentially catapults him at dirt- and helps him on his way witha martial arts strike to the base of the spine.

'There is no rationality-' the elf says to Dirt as he draws the other blade, paired longand short swords 'only in peace, and there can be no peace, it drowned in an ocean of bad blood. Nobody listens, so why not join them?'

He;s about to go for Dirt. Actions?

[Simon_Jester]

Larric's hurting enough that unless sheer adrenaline is pushing him harder than would be typical for the nature of the man, he's a bit slow to react in any way other than "groan and wriggle around." (depends on the Resist Injury result, possibly Determination?)

I'm assuming from the description that the punches just hurt and don't involve that much long-term physical damage, so when he gets round to himself, he tries to roll over. If the elf is actively attacking at that point, Larric tries to tase him- another of those stunning arcs, like with the Zarthani bandit.