Chase MaverickNaked Eagle (Recon +1) (Break +1) Hell yes, I know how nanomachines work. Kinda. I know they're real good at sharing processor power. Seems like adding some external hardware to the network and offloading some of my simulation onto it shouldn't be too hard to do.
Chase MaverickBroken Eagle (Recon +1) (Break +1)
In the med bay, the body once holding Chase Maverick sits quietly. Its thoughts are shallow, faint afterimages of the man it had been. Its fingers twitch slightly. Its eyes strain to focus.
In its mind, it sees itself trapped by thick walls of black.
Lily Black [Pretty+1] [Smith+1]
i: Smithing Hammer
She leans against the porch railing and smiles sweetly "C'mon Walt, listen to reason. We don't really want ta have to beat it inta ya. Just put the gun down, and we can talk."
Farmhouse: Held:-4
Walt eyes you suspiciously. The grip on his rifle tightens.
“You’re damn right I know about it. Every bastard here knows about it. You can’t have an entire valley go up in flame and not notice.”
He gestures to the porch with his gun.
“So what you thought you would just burn the first person you got ‘specious of? Think I wouldn’t notice you through my damned windows pouring gas all across my property? I’m sickly, not blind.”
He brings the gun back up to your face. His finger hovering over the trigger.
“The gun stays. If it weren’t for yer pretty woman over there you would have already had a one way ticket to hell. Now you got about five seconds to give me a good reason for ye to still be on my property before I change my mind.”
[Dom José Marcos Sempavor de Évora do Ouro (Zezé)] [Fiery +1][Noble +1][Missing Arm]
I: Cavalry Sabre
"Prezado Sr.McVey, if you feel I have been rash about my actions, "
José shrugs off the jacket draped over his shoulders to cover the bandages of his still crispy stump. The smell of overcooked meat still emanates from the dirty bandages. His gaze never drift down from the eyes of Walt, only wincing as the clothing brushes over his recent wound. His next few words are forced through grit teeth.
"Perhaps you could lend a hand?"
He takes a half step away from the door to glance towards the pillar of smoke creeping over the horizon, mixing with the haze of the mid afternoon. His grimace shifts to a forced grin.
"Your spirits are very popular senhor, the whole town is thirsty to find out where it's from. I'm sure your stocks are prepared."
Which is weird, because it's a rather crunchy system and usually that ain't my thing. All the options and rules and little bits and doohickies you can chain together into a character is giving me all kinds of nostalgic feelings about the days of playing D&D 3.5, though.
Which is also weird because I can't stand that system anymore. There's some odd rose tinted glasses shit going on here, and I'm not sure what to make of it.
I don't think anything is going to ever try me quite as hard as making a shadowrun character.
I made an Adept, which I'm pretty sure is one of the easier archetypes to build for, and that shit took me like three days of free time to put together. Just the items alone were probably half of that because goodness gracious there is like three books of that shit and it's just an unspeakable multitude of "gives you +1 die in this one, specific situation" and I was trying to buy up programs and rigger equipment and holy shit, I just could not believe that business at all.
Edit: And then none of it even mattered because 95% of the time I was just rolling my 12d6 hackin' dice pool all day, every day. The only thing that made it worth it was the one time I was the last one standing and I had no weapons whatsoever, or even a way to physically attack people because I was a straight hacker/rigger and my drones were trashed. People were flabbergasted that I hadn't bothered to even pick up a taser or something.
I think what I'm liking about Fantasy Craft so far is it's effortless to make a martial/casual character where I can't pinpoint, with exact precision, "I will become completely superfluous at level x" where x equals the level an optimized character gets an ability or spell that can more or less replace the character I just made. Pretty much everything appears to get downright ridiculous as it levels, and I'm a fan of balance through absurdity.
It's this funky mish mash of some of the bits I like about 4e with all the bits I liked about 3.5e, and that's a surprisingly potent combination.
[Dom José Marcos Sempavor de Évora do Ouro (Zezé)] [Fiery +1][Noble +1][Missing Arm]
I: Cavalry Sabre
"Prezado Sr.McVey, if you feel I have been rash about my actions, "
José shrugs off the jacket draped over his shoulders to cover the bandages of his still crispy stump. The smell of overcooked meat still emanates from the dirty bandages. His gaze never drift down from the eyes of Walt, only wincing as the clothing brushes over his recent wound. His next few words are forced through grit teeth.
"Perhaps you could lend a hand?"
He takes a half step away from the door to glance towards the pillar of smoke creeping over the horizon, mixing with the haze of the mid afternoon. His grimace shifts to a forced grin.
"Your spirits are very popular senhor, the whole town is thirsty to find out where it's from. I'm sure your stocks are prepared."
Tap [Missing Arm] to freak him out
So [Missing Arm] is going to be a +1 in this case, and will be a -1 whenever it becomes relevant.
This was going to end with a fight.
But woops now its sob story time.
And im terrible at those McVey looks at the stump in horror.
”No one was supposed to get hurt.”
The rifle drops his hand, clanking against the wooden floor. Morse very quickly picks it up and turns it on McVey.
“Do you know how hard it is to be a damn farmer with those consarn Animita growing all the crops you could need? I’ve got nothing, the cows are dried up, the wife left…..I just though…I just thought that if I could one good year it would get back on track.
(The scene can keep playing out, but there really isn’t much to do here but talk so. Scold him in size=1 text)
Morse’s face is stuck in an expression somewhere between anger and pity.
“I don’t matter why you did it Walt, I still need to bring you in.”
He pulls iron shackles from his belt, and lets the lock click on Walt’s wrists.
“Now to figure what to do with ya. Been awhile since the towns had need for the gallows. Usually folks get to ya first. “
He drags him up, and starts to walk him back to town, then turns back to you.
“I’m gonna bring him in, let the news spread that we got ‘im. If y’all could check the house that would be appreciated. God knows in his state he could have left any number of nasty surprises behind in case the Spits didn’t work out.”
Fuck it lets just keep this going. Plot hooks ho! Ya don't find much in the way of potential dastardly plans. Ya do find some crates full of Spit Fire, that clears up some loose ends.
The basement is another matter. You notice a blue light leaking through the cracks in the cellar door. The door opens without a sound, and you travel down the well maintained staircase. Its damp down here, it smells of must and mold. The first thing you notice is the large crystal sitting on the table in the center of the room. The crystal is a light blue that reminds you of the sky, and it radiates a warm light that fills the room. As you look deeper into it you see white fluffy streaks traveling across the inner crystal. They seem to appear and vanish as they reach the edges. And then you notice the rest of the room.
It looks like ol' Walt has been spending much time down here. Scraps of food and what you hope are jars of light liquor are scattered across the floor. Walt had another table set up off to the side of the crystal, with a few dozen parchments littered about its surface. God knows what he used to write on 'em.
Yay fun stuff
+2
Options
Caulk Bite 6One of the multitude of Dans infesting this placeRegistered Userregular
"Hoooooooooooooooooo-eee." Meyer wipes the sweat of a task well-done from his brow. Then he peers into the swirling pool, languidly taking a handful of coins for safekeeping as the rest disappear through what is presumably the scar in the shard. Can he see the other side?
[Dom José Marcos Sempavor de Évora do Ouro (Zezé)] [Fiery +1][Noble +1][Missing Arm]
I: Cavalry Sabre
José follows the rear after taking a minute to drape his shoulders with the coat he dropped. The illumination of the room is the first thing today that brings a smile to his face. He doesn't see a problem with the smith lady investigating, and he does a little investigation himself on some jars.
Jerry entered the basement expecting a fire. Instead there's this blue thing in the room and all this writing scattered around. Definitely looks like the no good the sheriff was worried about.
Geth roll 1d4-1d4+1 for !
Jeremiah swears under his breath as Lily reaches for the glowing crystal.
It's basic smithing knowledge that you don't reach out and grab anything that's glowing that bright.
So as she's reaching out for it he reflexively tries to swat her hand away.
See, I'm not saying that isn't perfectly good reasoning, but Jerry didn't get to be an old hand at smithing without both his hands.
Just because it might be sensible that this thing ain't hot, doesn't mean that these ruts aren't entrenched in Jerry already.
Posts
Hell yes, I know how nanomachines work. Kinda. I know they're real good at sharing processor power. Seems like adding some external hardware to the network and offloading some of my simulation onto it shouldn't be too hard to do.
Chase Maverick Broken Eagle (Recon +1) (Break +1)
In the med bay, the body once holding Chase Maverick sits quietly. Its thoughts are shallow, faint afterimages of the man it had been. Its fingers twitch slightly. Its eyes strain to focus.
In its mind, it sees itself trapped by thick walls of black.
It could break free.
It just has to remember how.
Its jaw clenches.
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Geth roll 1d4-1d4+1
Walt eyes you suspiciously. The grip on his rifle tightens.
“You’re damn right I know about it. Every bastard here knows about it. You can’t have an entire valley go up in flame and not notice.”
He gestures to the porch with his gun.
“So what you thought you would just burn the first person you got ‘specious of? Think I wouldn’t notice you through my damned windows pouring gas all across my property? I’m sickly, not blind.”
He brings the gun back up to your face. His finger hovering over the trigger.
“The gun stays. If it weren’t for yer pretty woman over there you would have already had a one way ticket to hell. Now you got about five seconds to give me a good reason for ye to still be on my property before I change my mind.”
I: Cavalry Sabre
"Prezado Sr.McVey, if you feel I have been rash about my actions, "
José shrugs off the jacket draped over his shoulders to cover the bandages of his still crispy stump. The smell of overcooked meat still emanates from the dirty bandages. His gaze never drift down from the eyes of Walt, only wincing as the clothing brushes over his recent wound. His next few words are forced through grit teeth.
"Perhaps you could lend a hand?"
He takes a half step away from the door to glance towards the pillar of smoke creeping over the horizon, mixing with the haze of the mid afternoon. His grimace shifts to a forced grin.
"Your spirits are very popular senhor, the whole town is thirsty to find out where it's from. I'm sure your stocks are prepared."
Tap [Missing Arm] to freak him out
approved
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Alright who was the last one to have a birthday
You get a free horse
Which is weird, because it's a rather crunchy system and usually that ain't my thing. All the options and rules and little bits and doohickies you can chain together into a character is giving me all kinds of nostalgic feelings about the days of playing D&D 3.5, though.
Which is also weird because I can't stand that system anymore. There's some odd rose tinted glasses shit going on here, and I'm not sure what to make of it.
I made a Pathfinder character recently and it was a test of my patience to finish the damn thing
especially when I got to equipment - their kit system is bad, and they should feel bad
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I made an Adept, which I'm pretty sure is one of the easier archetypes to build for, and that shit took me like three days of free time to put together. Just the items alone were probably half of that because goodness gracious there is like three books of that shit and it's just an unspeakable multitude of "gives you +1 die in this one, specific situation" and I was trying to buy up programs and rigger equipment and holy shit, I just could not believe that business at all.
Edit: And then none of it even mattered because 95% of the time I was just rolling my 12d6 hackin' dice pool all day, every day. The only thing that made it worth it was the one time I was the last one standing and I had no weapons whatsoever, or even a way to physically attack people because I was a straight hacker/rigger and my drones were trashed. People were flabbergasted that I hadn't bothered to even pick up a taser or something.
never even touched the tabletop
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It's this funky mish mash of some of the bits I like about 4e with all the bits I liked about 3.5e, and that's a surprisingly potent combination.
Dungeon World is pretty cool, but sometimes my players are dumbshits and I want them to have as little say in the narrative as possible.
So [Missing Arm] is going to be a +1 in this case, and will be a -1 whenever it becomes relevant.
Geth roll 1d4-1d4+1
But woops now its sob story time.
And im terrible at those
McVey looks at the stump in horror.
”No one was supposed to get hurt.”
The rifle drops his hand, clanking against the wooden floor. Morse very quickly picks it up and turns it on McVey.
“Do you know how hard it is to be a damn farmer with those consarn Animita growing all the crops you could need? I’ve got nothing, the cows are dried up, the wife left…..I just though…I just thought that if I could one good year it would get back on track.
Morse’s face is stuck in an expression somewhere between anger and pity.
“I don’t matter why you did it Walt, I still need to bring you in.”
He pulls iron shackles from his belt, and lets the lock click on Walt’s wrists.
“Now to figure what to do with ya. Been awhile since the towns had need for the gallows. Usually folks get to ya first. “
He drags him up, and starts to walk him back to town, then turns back to you.
“I’m gonna bring him in, let the news spread that we got ‘im. If y’all could check the house that would be appreciated. God knows in his state he could have left any number of nasty surprises behind in case the Spits didn’t work out.”
Ya don't find much in the way of potential dastardly plans. Ya do find some crates full of Spit Fire, that clears up some loose ends.
The basement is another matter. You notice a blue light leaking through the cracks in the cellar door. The door opens without a sound, and you travel down the well maintained staircase. Its damp down here, it smells of must and mold. The first thing you notice is the large crystal sitting on the table in the center of the room. The crystal is a light blue that reminds you of the sky, and it radiates a warm light that fills the room. As you look deeper into it you see white fluffy streaks traveling across the inner crystal. They seem to appear and vanish as they reach the edges. And then you notice the rest of the room.
It looks like ol' Walt has been spending much time down here. Scraps of food and what you hope are jars of light liquor are scattered across the floor. Walt had another table set up off to the side of the crystal, with a few dozen parchments littered about its surface. God knows what he used to write on 'em.
Yay fun stuff
Lily Black (Pretty +1) (Smith +1)
i: smithing hammer
Carefully walking up to the table, eyes fixed on the crystal, Lily reaches out to touch it. "What in the hell...?"
"Hoooooooooooooooooo-eee." Meyer wipes the sweat of a task well-done from his brow. Then he peers into the swirling pool, languidly taking a handful of coins for safekeeping as the rest disappear through what is presumably the scar in the shard. Can he see the other side?
I: Cavalry Sabre
José follows the rear after taking a minute to drape his shoulders with the coat he dropped. The illumination of the room is the first thing today that brings a smile to his face. He doesn't see a problem with the smith lady investigating, and he does a little investigation himself on some jars.
I: Wrench, Smithing kit
Jerry entered the basement expecting a fire. Instead there's this blue thing in the room and all this writing scattered around. Definitely looks like the no good the sheriff was worried about.
Geth roll 1d4-1d4+1 for !
Jeremiah swears under his breath as Lily reaches for the glowing crystal.
It's basic smithing knowledge that you don't reach out and grab anything that's glowing that bright.
So as she's reaching out for it he reflexively tries to swat her hand away.
Nothing to say of dangerous, just likely not hot.
i: handmade whip
"Ya know, we might want to read...whatever these are before touching anything strange."
Jennie walks up to the papers Walt had scribbled on and takes a look at them.
José detects notes of Jarate and an oddly pleasing musky aftertaste.
Name one glowing thing that isn't hot.
Cause I can't think of anything in the Wild West that glows and isn't hot.
But yeah, if Jerry succeeds he offers Lily a leather glove.
At least, that's my thought process.
Just because it might be sensible that this thing ain't hot, doesn't mean that these ruts aren't entrenched in Jerry already.
[ Cobin ] [ Old Gunslinger +2 ]
I: Revolver
Cobin takes a look at the writings. "I ain't sure this man was right in the head..."
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