Homebrew tabletop game system thread the II

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Now that you mention it, yes- Rohal, Dirt, Tamarin make it. Dawn, already? Wait- the wrong colour, and from underground? (Alfred and Larric don't wake in time to see it.)

It's not purposeful; it's a flare, a side effect. Possible for Verone to tell that much, at least.

[Feralgnoll]

Rohal immediately clutches his bow and breaths deep of the air to figure out what it is.

[Kaelan]

It's a long way away, and dirt can't do anything about it. Back to sleep then, he's sure the humans will run about screaming if it becomes more important later on.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Sniffing the air causes Rohal to end up on his back, looking up at the stars, giggling and babbling about the colours and the sounds they make; it's fascinating, absurdly potent, not destructive- exactly the opposite, it's essentially the side effect of a healing, not a simple field rite, a full complex set piece; fantastically complicated, attention- absorbingly intricate and involved- the actual flare you saw was just the side effect.

Something very large and not at all simple, and probably not human, just got a lot better. You can watch and wait, but it doesn't repeat. Probably doesn't need to. Anybody doing anything else before morning?

[Simon_Jester]

Larric's curious but missed the magical release. He doesn't speak the same magical language as the only person who can explain it to him, so after a few unhelpful exchanges (of the same character as the one he had with Verone this morning before the murder was found out), he's going back to sleep.


Hm.

I know it's normally poor form to speak for other characters, so don't take this too seriously- but White Haven's something of a friend, and he's at best semicapacitated, so he may not have seen this yet or not been in shape to react.

If I had to guess, I'd think Verone is probably going to be up as much of the night as possible trying to figure out what was that and how did that happen, especially since he's got enough knowledge to be at least passingly familiar with healing magic himself.

It seems in character for him. If someone came up with a complex enchantment for summoning a forest fire, Verone'd probably be so busy figuring out how it works he'd nearly forget to run away before the fire got to him.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

If he's not feeling well, that's most important- pass on my good wishes to him, I hope he gets better soon.

Probably as well that his character is too absorbed in trying to analyse and reconstruct- and that does sound a perfectly in character thing to do; in the process coming up with the idea that the fortress' magic had trouble reaching out past the svartalfven wards and shields, only a sufficient pull, a sufficiently large group of people in sufficient need (roughly a couple of hundred maybe) could actually open the way to it.

Once the wards breached, a smaller group could come and go.

It's a good theory, and may even be right; just as well he's too busy doing that to concentrate on what Dirt and Fifi are doing in the morning. Tamarin isn't. She's appalled. Bongo playing. Where did he get those from? Ah...they have faces. Or used to. Two skulls, long- faced and quite refined bone structure. (If you like bongo drumming, it's really quite good. As long as you don't look.)

The pot's bubbling away, by the way. Don't ask about the herbs and spices.

[Feralgnoll]

OOC: Am I high?

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

There may be some effect (there were certainly supposed to be from the act that the flare was sent up by)- a large and alien mind, shattered and coming back together again, and diving into the radiance of it-a momentary loss of coordination, that makes sense, but uickly back in one mental piece. Although being slightly out of it for breakfast might be good.

[Simon_Jester]

Larric wakes up, teeth-gritting, to the sound of bongo drums. His mind briefly tries to integrate them into a dream about why light, and there's some murmuring about "sum over histories" in there, but it doesn't work and he wakes up.

"Wuh, whuh... who's that drumming?" He rolls to his feet and looks over at Dirt. He looks down at the drums. He looks up at Dirt again. Down at the drums. Up. Up, and away. The alchemist kneels in the dirt, concentrating for a moment on not going into dry heaves. He staggers upright, walks crabwise over to his pack, looking away from the drumming, and fiddles around until he finds a carefully sealed and wrapped metal flask. Working the cork out- this is one of the few flammable quasi-chemical things he managed to save from the wreckage of his old shop, he takes a cautious sip.

As the liquid, distilled to within an inch of its life by someone who is a master of chemistry but actually quite poor at making things taste non-atrocious, napalms its way down his throat, he smells the stew-pot. He pauses briefly to consider, then concludes that there's probably some journeybread still in the pack somewhere.

More rummaging ensues. He's quite non-confrontational about it, mind you.

[Feralgnoll]

OOC: ECR, does Rohal's altered state of mind change anything about him? Do I act loopy and just out of it? or does it make me let my guard down and have me shift?

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Tamarin walks over to Dirt.

'I'd prefer it if you didn't do that.' meaning the skulls. 'I understand why in your culture and theirs it may be an appropriate thing to do, but humans are more aware of our own mortality than that.

We try to treat the bodies of the dead more reverently, for the sake of the people they were and the living who knew them- and because we are all a little aware that it might be our turn next.

That tends to upset people. It makes them frightened, and shouty, and probably violent. It tends to make them think you really are a monster who should be stabbed to death yourself. Do put the drums away.'

She, too, starts rummaging in her pack for cured meat and rye bread to eat it on.


Rohal was only really momentarily affected by the flare; head's back on straight now and has been since a couple of minutes afterwards. If he wants to pretend otherwise, act it in order to get away with something, he can try that.

[Simon_Jester]

[blinks]

If Larric were less meek, and he is on the meek side, d'Avariel got that right to a degree even if she took it too far and managed to badly offend him in the process, he would probably have done that. He takes notes, metaphorically speaking.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Slight confusion of characters there- dame Selene d'Avariel is the steel bikini wearing showoff Krylanyan paladin, who would be prime suspect for the horrible murder if it was only possible for her to be in two places at once;
dame Tamarin Welbrooke is the court- bred noble lady who married a country knight and lost him in the war, and is now trying to carry her responsibilities to their people and dependents without him.
One of them would be happy if you confused the two of them, and it's not the one you've got with you on this trip.

Anything else happening at breakfast time- what's Dirt's reaction, for that matter?

[Simon_Jester]

OOC IRRELEVANCY:

Slight confusion of characters there- dame Selene d'Avariel is the steel bikini wearing showoff Krylanyan paladin, who would be prime suspect for the horrible murder if it was only possible for her to be in two places at once;

There is no confusion here whatsoever. I am referring to d'Avariel's analysis of Larric, which she made day before yesterday at court, and which I have not forgotten... in the context of Larric's own behavior, and in comparison to Tamarin's behavior.

I think d'Averiel is slightly wrong; Larric thinks she's very wrong- he disagrees with her more firmly because he's personally irritated with her even without the whole "suspicion of murder" thing.

But I am quite aware of the difference between the two characters; the key point is that Larric can learn from watching someone like Dame Tamarin, even though Tamarin doesn't know much herself and isn't really trying to teach anything. Whereas d'Avariel is eager to preach the gospel of politics and manipulation, but Larric isn't interested in learning anything from her. For one, because the Krylanyan... I want to say "speaks a different language," but it's more like "embodies a different discourse." For another, because he doesn't trust d'Avariel any farther than he can throw her psychological complexes, and he doesn't learn well from people he doesn't trust; he gets stubborn and standoffish.

Also, thank you for passing on her last name. And d'Avariel's first.

[White Haven]

((Still alive, feeling mostly human, but need to unfuck my sleep schedule so I can be worth a damn at work tomorrow. I should be back on deck then.))

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Good- don't force it, just get better.

Speaking of ill- is Sorchus still entirely missing? That can't be good.
I'm fine-ish but my car and computer appear to be ill, the first case I think just power steering fluid, the computer- hm. Internet keeps cutting in and out, so this might be spotty.


and I did wonder what the point of mentioning d'Avariel as at that point, which is why I assumed there was confusion, when there wasn't, it was just me. I keep referring to her by her surname incidentally because of her long, complicated and massively disruptive history as a character as "Selene", she looks like the clyde caldwell picture not the vampire by the way, I'm trying to dissociate in my own head what she may be capable of (and is known to be capable of) later from what she's can and is willing to go far enough to try now.


So- what's happening at the moment? Flare happens, moving towards it as soon as it gets light, waiting to see what else happens, Dirt's reaction, everyone else's reaction to the bongos, what's the plan?

[Simon_Jester]

OOC:

While I'm happy to have more stuff on the breakfast/bongo thing, I'm going to put this up too.

Assuming the whole breakfast/bongo thing doesn't degenerate into pistols at dawn or the like...

IC:

Larric says: "That thing that woke everybody up in the night? Powerful magic... what did it smack of to you?" He looks at Verone. "We only know one person moving about these parts who might make that big a flash and bang, but this was healing magic, you say... hm." He shrugs.

"Fair bet she knows where that hidden fortress is at. Might just be coincidence, if it's her and she's about, or it might not." He looks around again.

[Feralgnoll]

Rohal gets up and sets around watching Dirt play the skull bongos, then put them away. Doesn't strike him as any weirder than some other things he has seen.

"I can follow the scent of the explosion to where we need to go"

[Panzersharkcat]

He groggily gets up and notices the party expressing some trepidation at Dirt playing his skull bongos. He walks over to him and says, "Would you mind putting that away? It's upsetting everybody else. I like you. You are useful to me. You will not be as useful if somebody here stabs you because he is convinced you really are just a brute on account of those." He starts sniffing the pot. "What is in that?"

[Kaelan]

With reluctance Dirt stops the bongo rift, and looks at the uncultured barbarians he is travelling with.

Indicating at the bubbling pot, “That food. Travel Stew. Give health for long walk.”

Then presenting the Skulls.
“Look, elf skulls. You are strange. Dishonour dead by placing in ground for animals to eat. Dirt place human in ground for you because your people, your strange ways.”

Placing the skulls carefully in his pack.
“You kill, you responsible. No time to make elf body ward totem, so must use heads to keep elf spirits away from dirt and party. Why you want bring bad spirit? Your way strange. Throwing friend to animal to eat is no way to be friend. Dirt eat friend who die, friend strength and spirit become same as Dirt. You promise eat Dirt when Dirt die, no throw to animal. Also, dirt have good head, make you lucky with lady if you play good song yes?

[Feralgnoll]

OOC: I had to wipe captain crunch off my screen because I was laughing so hard.

IC: Rohal nods a bit as he tracks Dirts line of reasoning. Wolves run a parallel course. He sniffs the pot, because he sure is hungry.

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Tamarin looks shocked and horrified by that for a second, looks almost about to cry before composing herself and telling herself firmly that a lady knight isn't supposed to lose it that easily (remember, she buried her own husband something about forty-fifty days ago- not that Dirt would know that or she would expect him to); and then says

'I- have had to bury people before, and why we do what we do- you talk of body wards. During the dark times, in the shadow of the black towers, the overlords would do that- would take the bodies of the dead to use against the living. Cremation was the better end, but it was a crime- and the smoke of a funeral pyre is hard to hide.
Being eaten was harder for the necromancers to detect and prevent, so it was a second best- if you could get yourself devoured by wolves you were at least leaving behind no trouble for your friends, your corpse would not walk again...

we bury our dead now, go to the land, because those times are over now- beaten back into the past- and the land is ours; in defiance of what once was and in celebration of what now is, we trust the departed to lie in peace, under the shield of the living.

More complicated than it sounds, isn't it? Most things are, including ogres. Although I'll still decline the stew.'

The stew smells- just how much elf is in there? Remembering that Ogres can eat just about anything, it smells quite tasty if you like exotic chemistry and spices.

In the dawn light (I'm assuming you're not wasting any more time than that, it's cold up in the hills) you can pick the valley that the flash probably originated from well enough.


Also; good news from Sorchus- not dead, at least. Let him tell it in his own way.

[Simon_Jester]

Wasting no time is good- let's strike camp and head off to the valley.

As they're doing so, Larric thinks about it...

[rolls dice]

Well, what he thinks about not-proper and proper is still largely unchanged, but he can stick to "just the facts" when it is (peripherally) chemistry. Something he might want to warn Dirt about if he's going to go around throwing things in the stewpot.

"I once heard a story of a Zarth- a man from Zarthan, human- who was so angry at a particular elf that after he killed the elf, he... ate the elf's heart. He got sick and died- poisoned by it. Something we'd have to worry about, even if we did things the same way you did. All you-think-this-I-think-that and spirit wards taken out of it, there's good reasons for me to stick to chicken and mutton and venison and the like."

[Kaelan]

There is no 'elf' in the pot, Dirt knows that humans can get funny about that sort of thing from past experience. The meat is game, and the herbs more mundane flavouring (at least until he has a better grasp of what the party can safely eat).

The elf 'bites' are for fifi.

[Simon_Jester]

OOC:

I actually figured it was something like that. Dirt's not stupid, after all.

IC:

That said, the whole thing made Larric nervous enough that he went for the journeybread after all before talking to Dirt, although once he finds out what you just said he'll... he'll still be disturbed, but he'll also respect the ogre's judgment a little more.

So, anyway, yes. Striking camp and heading for the valley of the Great Healing Kaboom.