Considering the offered piece of mirror, LaOs nods. However, seeing as he is more likely to harm himself as much as any foe if he were to wield it as a weapon, he carefully places the mirror on the ground and grabs a nearby rock. Standing, he squeezes the symbol in his left hand and judges the weight of the rock in his right.
Satisfied with the best stone he could find, LaOs stops tossing it in the air and concentrates on the mist. Where is it? There should be some sign...
I think I see something! Spot: The Mist Creature (1d20=3)
(Wait, no. It's just more fog.) It must be there... if only I could hear it. Listen: The Beast in the Fog (1d20=5)
(Ha... man, I'm going to be so surprised when it breaks the mist. There is obviously is nothing there--I don't know what Sharpe's getting all worked up about.)
"Don't abandon a weapon in the face of a threat!" I say angrily, hurriedly scooping up the mirror again and holding it ready. "There are plenty of rocks," I continue, gesturing at the rock-littered landscape. It seems I was right. This one will be trouble.
Sometime in the complicated transfer, I spot the symbol clenched in his fist. What's that? Maybe I should accuse him of this ritual he keeps mentioning.
I glare at the cowardly fool, considering, but then return my nervous gaze to the surrounding mist. He can't be that much of a threat.
Listening to what everyone has to say, I finally speak up.
"It is my opinion that we won't find anything out just standing round, talking to each other. I say we try to find our way to somewhere populated, perhaps someone there will recognize one of us, and give some direction to our broken lives." I advance toward the mist with the others, and see the one who now calls himself Victor stop suddenly, and talk of footsteps in the mist. Moving back towards the meadow some, I pick up the trunk I almost used earlier to hit Victor. Walking back to the mist's edge, I train my eyes and ears in the direction he indicates, trying desperately to pick out the footsteps he mentioned.
I shudder instinctively as I recognize the symbol. A coward and a worshiper of the sun. This one will need to be dealt with.
I look up as the red-haired one approaches, bearing a giant tree. This one is more promising.
"I agree, Mister...shall I call you Red?" I ask, as I use the glass to point out where I think I heard the footsteps from. "Do you see anything?" He looks competent.
My nervousness slowly leaves, replaced by calm calculation. That makes two. Will that be enough?
I wait to see if the other two join us, as I listen to the approaching footsteps. I stand slightly in front, flanked by Mr. Brown and Mr. Red. Blondie lurks to one side throwing his rock and catching it. I ignore him.
I look slightly puzzled and lean forwards slightly, trying to see deeper into the fog. "There's a man out there, he just stepped through a window."
With that, I step forwards. It's clear that the answer to the mysteries we're faced with are hidden in this fog. I acquire no weapon, nor do I ask for one.
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Gabriel_Pitt(effective against Russian warships)Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
She joins the others closer to the mist's edge, whistling softly, clicking a couple of the smooth stones against each other in her palm to the rhythm of the humming. She noticed most of the others had held or discarded a bone much like she had and she looked closer to see if they had all come from a feline like hers had. She let the sounds trail off, trying to focus and see what hiding from them out there.
She did not yet know what to make of the situation. That all of them suffered the same malady, awoke in a similar state, surrounding what had been impressive detonation gave support to the theory that they had been doing something, but to what end?
"There is no guarantee that anything we meet will be pleased to see us. Remaining here though, will resolve nothing, one way or another, and I am willing to accept the cold comfort of the company of those who don't know themselves over any who might be an even more complete stranger."
She turns towards the tree-woman after she speaks. "A window? There's a building in there?" As the other female steps into the mist, she takes a couple steps after, dress rustling.
I realize instinctively that the tree woman is not a threat.
"A...window? Maybe that's our way out," I say. "There must be something else out there, though. I can still hear it." A window in thin air? Or a window in a building? Either way, I must find it.
"Do you know what you are?" I ask the tree woman, at some risk of not being able to answer my own question.
I see the slight silken woman approach. "If we are to be in each other's company, what shall I call you?" I ask of her, not noticing any immediate danger. "Do you have a weapon?" I continue, offering the mirror shard. This one might be useful.
I turn to the assembled group, holding the dagger. "If there is a window out there, we should make our way to it," I suggest. "It might at least serve as shelter." And if that man went through the window, I'd like a word with him.
"I would also prefer to go and face whatever is out there than stand here waiting for it," I say, as I listen to the approaching footsteps.
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AriviaI Like A ChallengeEarth-1Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
Gabriel:
The bones are from different woodland and domesticated animals. Cat, squirrel, even a horse's knuckle.
Kuhlmeye:
You spot a huge black thing shambling towards the top of the hill, hidden from you by the fog.
By now, everyone can hear the loud noises.
KA-THUMP SHUFFLE KA-THUMP. KA-THUMP SHUFFLE KA-THUMP is the repeated motion of whatever's out there, and it's getting quite loud. It seems to be down the hill, and getting closer.
The mood is terrifying, and I hold my dagger at the ready. "If it comes at us, we attack it together! No holding back, and no stopping to talk." I'll stab it in the throat, then the big one can bash it with the tree.
My terror turns to determination, and I walk forward into the mist.
"Let us go after it. We'll see how tough it is when it is hunted!" I declare as I steel myself to do what must be done. Kill the beast!
"A sound plan." I haven't the slightest clue as to whatever is making its way toward us, but if it's large enough to make that much of a racket, I doubt that it's friendly. Assuming a more proper stance, I hunker down and muster up what confidence I can, praying to the powers that be that I am as competent of a warrior as I would appear to be.
The fool... LaOs frowns as Sharpe enters the fog. There is some creature approaching us, quickly, unerringly, and he wants to go in after it? The fool.
Quickly, LaOs addresses the others. "Look. You can follow him into the shrowd where we cannot see and will likely be at a disadvantage if you want. That creature is moving towards us through the fog--might it be able to see or navigate without the need of sight? Instead, if we wait where we can all see, perhaps we can gain the advantage of preparedness."
LaOs looks around the area surrounding his companions. They may be able to make tactical use of the terrain and gravestones in their battle against the beast. Taking up a position behind a gravestone, LaOs calls out. "Sharpe! Can you see the beast? And what of the window?" He tenses, ready to throw his stone at whatever may emerge from the mist.
AriviaI Like A ChallengeEarth-1Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
LaOs:
The gravestones here would give little advantage against such a large foe. But, running down the side of the hill is a narrow dell, choked with stones. You could hide (and run away from) it there.
Sharpe has not encountered either just yet.
Going out into the mist where I cannot see my enemy seems like unfounded strategy. The blond haired man has it right, I believe.
I quickly maneuver my way back from the mist, the log in my hands at the ready.
"That gravestone might be too small for you to hide behind friend! I say we take whatever this is head on!"
I take one final glance into the mist, trying to spot either Sharpe or the hulk I saw only a shadow of before, hoping desperately to be ready when it clears the mist.
"You are a coward," I say scornfully. "Go back to the crater and hide." He is challenging my strength, but without tactics or the means to back himself up.
"Mr. Black, Mr. Red: Follow me! This thing will not expect a sudden attack!" I say to the armed pair. We three are more than a match for any beast.
"Ladies, be careful, but I suspect you can take care of yourself!" I direct towards the unarmed two. There, a sop. We can all be heroes if we do not hesitate.
Turning to Red, LaOs confesses. "I do what I can, for now. That dell over there," pointing to the side of the hill, "looks like a good place to run or hide if we need to. It may be best to keep it in mind if things go sour. For now, though, I do agree that we should confront the beast!"
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AriviaI Like A ChallengeEarth-1Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
You all stand, waiting, as the thing continues its inexorable approach. Those of you who cannot see the shadow eventually do, as it narrows and strengthens into something a towering twelve-feet high. Its kneecaps are what you see first, lengths of wooden picket fence, rotting and broken, wrapped around tree-trunk legs with rusty barbed wire. The thick ends of the tree trunks act as lumbering feet; the old, pitted shovelheads strapped to the trunk scrape against the ground, causing the odd shuffle you heard before.
At the top end, the trunks bloom into withering limbs, which wind and root together to form the thing's open pelvis; more branches extend upward, knotting together into a facsimile of a ribcage. Lengths of fencing jut out for shoulders, reinforcing a thin core of vine and more posts, broken in half to serve as arms. At the end of the arms, unusually thick rakes stick out, reaching over long new-growth claws.
On top of all of this the vines come together, feeding into a narrow cone of fencing that comes to a point at the front. This top cone of fencing has a dirty blue piece of cloth stretched around it.
The monstrosity carries the skeleton of some animal in its claws, breaking it with little fanfare, causing thin bones to spill and bounce across the ground with hollow cracks. At the sight of you, it throws the skeleton halves away, causing them to roll down the hill, splintering as they go, until they stop or jump above gravestones. It lowers itself, the point of the head searching at each of you in turn. Upon looking from side to side, it seems to stop, the fence inside it shivering, causing a flock of rattling to echo through the air. Then it launches itself forward, running at you.
You all have surprise. You also must roll a d20 twice - once for initiative, once for a Spot check. Please label your rolls.
But wait! Seeing the sight of a hostile enemy awakens something new in each of you. Wait to post your surprise actions until after my next post.
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AriviaI Like A ChallengeEarth-1Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
Pygmalion:
You know that if you can somehow find the thing's face and match it glare for glare, you can still it in place. You know this because once someone lashed you to a rack, and lowered you again and again into a pit of screaming skulls. Their gazes taught you, for you had nothing else to shut out the agony. However, you can't see its face right now, just the fence-cone.
LaOs:
Seeing the dried wood that makes up the creature, something flickers into place. You remember how you once channeled the light of Taiia, Lady of the Sun. You remember taking that light and bringing it into a weapon to light it aflame, so that it might cut down those who would extinguish the sun. You also remember that you could only channel so much of her light before you became tired, and eventually fell to sleep.
kuhlmeye:
You remember someone, somewhere, talking to you on a hill like this. "Throw away your weapons," he said, and let go of his sword. You did the same, and leaped into combat once again. You fought well, but just once you gained advantage and he punched you - a solid move with all the weight of a mountain before it, that splintered your plate and laid you to the ground. Afterwards, he showed you just how to do the same.
Rainfall:
You remember, long ago, saying a single word to a man. Your voice was borne by tendrils of shadow, that brought it to his ears and burrowed in, and afterwards he was a slave to your word. You remember, once again, saying that word to a thing that was not a man, and it stopped in its tracks, the shadows holding it hostage for a brief time. You also remember, that if you held onto the shadows too long, they would speed you to their realm of the unconscious.
Gabriel:
You remember a quieter time in voice, but not in action. You were somewhere else, somewhere with light and real sound, and you remember touching the back of one of the Emperor's guards. His armor and weapons rusted, splintered, and fell, and you remember the Court laughing at the joke. You also remember that you could only do this once at the time, and that, exhausted, the Emperor's guards easily laid you down. But ever since you gained power, you've thought of revenge, of doing it to a second, a third...
Interrobang:
You remember a dark man, a cruel man. You remember being told to hit a dummy again and again, that you had to do it from all angles and all sides. The man wanted you to learn power over speed, saying that you were better suited to brute force. He had you practice hitting the dummy hard enough to break its stuffing out of a linen prison, and the next blow must be soft enough to not leave a mark at all. And when you didn't hit it right, he showed you how - by slicing open your side. You know, now, that harder hits are harder to land.
When you attack an enemy, categorize the power you're using behind the blow on a scale from 1-10.
LaOs moves to the side, hoping to avoid being trampled by the giant creature. The sheer size of the beast has him re-thinking his stone projectile, and he looks in a panic for some other weapon.
Gabriel_Pitt(effective against Russian warships)Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
She scooped a rough stone off the ground, sliding her sling out of its pocket and dropping the stone into the pouch and started swinging it in a circle, hoping to feel the guidance of muscle memory as she brought it up to speed. Memory came to her, but not the one she thought. She remembered metal and wood beneath her hand, then rust and splinters. She could do that to this thing, perhaps, if she dared to touch it. Which she did not.
As the thing charged, she dropped back and to the left, trusting her arm as she brought the sling up to speed.
This is an interesting development, but I knew it all along.
Victor Sharpe, Esq. stands with more confidence than he seems to deserve, his glowing knife held at the ready, his thin hairless chest bare to the charging creature.
"Prepare to charge, men. I will soon have this beast at my mercy!" boasts Sharpe. I need only find the face.
"Charge!" he says, preparing to leap to the side and stab the beast as it passes!
In the name of all that is holy... what are we dealing with?
I take a single step forward to bring myself closer to Sharpe, and ready my weapon. While I know that I am at least somewhat armored, battered leather will not protect me from that. I choose to be patient, to let it make its bull rush, scanning my eyes over its body to find some kind of weakness, some kind of opening... something, anything that stands out.
"Hrrragh!" When the creature nears, I heft my sword and swing it with substantial force. The blade carves through the air at a downward angle; the attack feels loose, unprofessional, and I mentally admonish myself for the error. I should know better.
This is something I've never seen before... but would I remember if I had?
Remembering a part of my past, I drop the tree trunk I've been carrying with me. I quickly look to see my compatriots, all of whom look more internal than they should be, faced with a monstrosity such as this. Looking back to the beast, I try to see if there could be any weak spots on the creature while trying to get a better look at what we are facing.
Moving forward towards the creature, I hope beyond all hope that my memory proves me true, as my fist swings towards the beast.
I stopped and stared at the monstrosity ahead of us, ancient memories flooding back. Fearful nonetheless, I found myself taking a few steps back, allowing others to take the initiative against this monstrosity.
Initiative - 1
Spot - 4
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AriviaI Like A ChallengeEarth-1Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
Everything slows down for a second, as you slip back into old habits and actions. The woman in silk slings a stone, which impacts itself in the thing's leg, while a chunk of stone flies wide and rolls down the hillside. The shaven man you all now know as "Sharpe" jabs at it, his dagger slicing vine, and the trunk-wielder steps up and simply punches it, the weight of his blow almost shattering one of its legs. A forceful two-handed sword strike does nothing, sparking against a shovel toe.
Some of you, then, back up a step in terror, the angle of your attack revealing a new horror.
Pygmalion, Kuhlmeye, Interrobang:
Inside the thing's ribcage, tied town with metal spikes and fishing line, is a man's face. Whoever he is, his mouth is ripped open in a silent scream, his cheeks wet with tears. He does look to be alive, somehow.
Initiative:
Gabriel
LaOs
Pygmalion
Kuhlmeye
Interrobang
The Thing
Rainfall
Gabriel's turn.
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Gabriel_Pitt(effective against Russian warships)Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
She scooped another rock off the ground as she continued to pull back from the thing. As she dropped the ersatz bullet into the pouch and brought the sling up to speed, she noted three of her erstwhile companions recoil suddenly from something only they were aware of. She couldn't see what had repulsed them, but was beginning to suspect this was not a foe they could directly face down.
Though some of his companions seem horrified at something close to the Beast, LaOs is bolstered by the silken woman's second volley. That is the spirit, woman. Fight on! Grinning, he grabs another chunk of stone from the ground.
"Have at thee, Beast!" LaOs calls out at the beast while heaving his stone. The thing is large, but LaOs has a new-found confidence based on their superiority in numbers.
Taste stone, Beast! Attack VS The Thing (1d20=10)
(Please? I worked so hard preparing this stone for you. You're never home for dinner when you say you will be. I'm tired of eating alone at night!)
"Ah, there is your face," says Victor Sharpe, oddly unaffected by the horrific sight. From mental fortitude gained by long association or mental procrastination prompted by danger?
Standing firm and gazing into the eyes of the pathetic head within the ribcage, Sharpe projects his will into the beast. "Be still in your agony!" he shouts, maneuvering himself to keep the face in view. I will pity you when I have secured your release.
What is he doing in there? Did this creature capture him? The sight of the human inside the creature sets me back, if only momentarily. Quickly regaining my composure, I get ready to attack the thing once more. Pulling back my fist, I uncoil my arm and propel my fist into the beast.
"Let's take this thing down!" I cry out, trying to rally those around me.
I feel my stomach turn as I see the farmer, and I falter just for a second. The realization that there is man inside this... monstrosity weakens my resolve. You poor bastard. I hope you find peace after we're through.
My recently-recovered memories flash in my mind and I remember what I've learned: harder hits are harder to land. The next swing of my weapon is more controlled, more restrained and hopefully more accurate.
Scale of 1-10: swinging at a 3
SWING-ANNA-MISS 1d20 = 13
AriviaI Like A ChallengeEarth-1Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
Another thrown stone rolls ineffectively off one of the thing's shovel-feet, while a sling bullet does seem to sting it a little bit. At a glance from Victor Sharpe, it seems to slow momentarily, but speeds up once again. The musclebound man's mighty fist is uneffective; but in a reversal of fortune, the two-handed-swordsman slices deeply into its ribcage, tearing out root-like ribs.
At the slice, the creature rears backwards and then plunges forwards as if becoming fetal. There's a series of popping sounds, and the creature sheds fenceposts like quills, wooden stakes driving deeply into all of you. The wounds are great, no one left without a length of wood entering one side of their body and pushing out the other. The silken woman is injured the most, the post striking through her stomach and staining her robes red.
kuhlmeye:
You lost your focus after throwing the first punch, and you're not able to put the same force behind the second. Something flashes back at you - you know that the force of mountains can be channeled only so much before you have to lose it, let it slip away, stand still or use a standard weapon blow; afterwards it will recover. You're able to tell yourself you have other tricks like these, but you'll need a weapon for them.
LaOs:
You remember holding Taiia's symbol aloft, channeling her sun, and feeling a warm blanket of healing light covering you and your compatriots. It is not immediately effective, however, better healing after a battle than in the midst of one.
I cry out a word as the fencepost pierces me, my flesh bleeding less than that of the others, staggering backwards even as I call forth the shadows with the strength of my will and a single word alone, hoping to slow the beast if not outright stop it. What is this thing?
1d20=15
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Gabriel_Pitt(effective against Russian warships)Registered Userregular
edited July 2009
She staggered beneath the hail of projectiles, doubling over the stake piercing her stomach. She grit her teeth, her breath hissing out, expression twisting into a snarl as she forced herself upright again. She remembered making wood and metal warp and crumble beneath her touch before, could she do so again?. The thought of that thing rotting and falling away beneath her fingers forced a smile to her lips, but she lacked faith that she could make the power answer her call.
Stumbling back, she let another stone fly, then took refuge in the dell, hoping to shield herself from any further barrages.
Recoiling from the blow, LaOs curses at the beast. Globes of blinding white pain flash before his eyes and he falls to one knee. Shaking his head, LaOs grabs another large chunk of stone, grits his teeth, and stands facing the creature.
Now I will show you blinding pain. Taiia!! Staring at the monster before him, LaOs raises the stone, readying a throw. A look of concentration comes over his face, replaced quickly by a wave of anger, hatred, and finally, determination. LaOs wordlessly hurls the stone, which ignites in a brilliant white flame before it leaves his fingers. His face his calm as he watches the stone fly through the air, but his eyes shine with Holy light.
"I will not die," Victor Sharpe, Esq. says as he pulls the stake out of his chest with a grunt of pain. "Or am I already dead?"
He spots the narrow cone of fencing with a dirty blue piece of cloth stretched around it. Does this veil conceal the beast's true eyes?
He looks up, up, up the twelve feet of the creature, seeking a handhold. He quickly drops to a crouch, preparing to make the prodigious leap to grab hold of the back of the creature's neck. Let us push the limits.
Landing heavily, but still maintaining a tenuous one-handed grip, Sharpe brings the knife down to try to slash through the blue cloth!
Acrobatics to leap and grab hold of the beast at some point near the blue piece of cloth = 17 1d20=17
Slicing the cloth = 5 1d20=5
As the posts pierce my body, I quickly realize what the pain of those injuries feel like. The post through my body, I try to regain fighting stance, realizing the limitations of my new-found powers.
If only my last attack had the power of the first. Perhaps dropping the weapon was a bad idea...
Looking around for the weapon dropped, I quickly pick the trunk back up. Steadying myself, I take a swing at the beast, hoping to do more damage than my fist could allow.
Posts
Satisfied with the best stone he could find, LaOs stops tossing it in the air and concentrates on the mist. Where is it? There should be some sign...
(Wait, no. It's just more fog.)
It must be there... if only I could hear it. Listen: The Beast in the Fog (1d20=5)
(Ha... man, I'm going to be so surprised when it breaks the mist. There is obviously is nothing there--I don't know what Sharpe's getting all worked up about.)
It seems I was right. This one will be trouble.
Sometime in the complicated transfer, I spot the symbol clenched in his fist.
What's that? Maybe I should accuse him of this ritual he keeps mentioning.
I glare at the cowardly fool, considering, but then return my nervous gaze to the surrounding mist.
He can't be that much of a threat.
1d20=7
"It is my opinion that we won't find anything out just standing round, talking to each other. I say we try to find our way to somewhere populated, perhaps someone there will recognize one of us, and give some direction to our broken lives." I advance toward the mist with the others, and see the one who now calls himself Victor stop suddenly, and talk of footsteps in the mist. Moving back towards the meadow some, I pick up the trunk I almost used earlier to hit Victor. Walking back to the mist's edge, I train my eyes and ears in the direction he indicates, trying desperately to pick out the footsteps he mentioned.
Sir Spots a lot (1d20=20)
Listen time (1d20=13)
Woo, I sure hope I see something!
A coward and a worshiper of the sun. This one will need to be dealt with.
I look up as the red-haired one approaches, bearing a giant tree.
This one is more promising.
"I agree, Mister...shall I call you Red?" I ask, as I use the glass to point out where I think I heard the footsteps from. "Do you see anything?"
He looks competent.
My nervousness slowly leaves, replaced by calm calculation.
That makes two. Will that be enough?
I wait to see if the other two join us, as I listen to the approaching footsteps. I stand slightly in front, flanked by Mr. Brown and Mr. Red. Blondie lurks to one side throwing his rock and catching it. I ignore him.
With that, I step forwards. It's clear that the answer to the mysteries we're faced with are hidden in this fog. I acquire no weapon, nor do I ask for one.
She did not yet know what to make of the situation. That all of them suffered the same malady, awoke in a similar state, surrounding what had been impressive detonation gave support to the theory that they had been doing something, but to what end?
"There is no guarantee that anything we meet will be pleased to see us. Remaining here though, will resolve nothing, one way or another, and I am willing to accept the cold comfort of the company of those who don't know themselves over any who might be an even more complete stranger."
She turns towards the tree-woman after she speaks. "A window? There's a building in there?" As the other female steps into the mist, she takes a couple steps after, dress rustling.
knowledge (nature) to suss out the bones. 19 + modifiers
listen to hear thudding from the mist: 3 + modifiers
spot to see things in the mist: 13 + modifiers
"A...window? Maybe that's our way out," I say. "There must be something else out there, though. I can still hear it."
A window in thin air? Or a window in a building? Either way, I must find it.
"Do you know what you are?" I ask the tree woman, at some risk of not being able to answer my own question.
I see the slight silken woman approach. "If we are to be in each other's company, what shall I call you?" I ask of her, not noticing any immediate danger. "Do you have a weapon?" I continue, offering the mirror shard.
This one might be useful.
I turn to the assembled group, holding the dagger. "If there is a window out there, we should make our way to it," I suggest. "It might at least serve as shelter."
And if that man went through the window, I'd like a word with him.
"I would also prefer to go and face whatever is out there than stand here waiting for it," I say, as I listen to the approaching footsteps.
Kuhlmeye:
By now, everyone can hear the loud noises.
KA-THUMP SHUFFLE KA-THUMP. KA-THUMP SHUFFLE KA-THUMP is the repeated motion of whatever's out there, and it's getting quite loud. It seems to be down the hill, and getting closer.
As the thumping sound approaches, I peer into the fog, attempting to discern a form.
Personal Insight=12 What am I indeed?
I'll stab it in the throat, then the big one can bash it with the tree.
My terror turns to determination, and I walk forward into the mist.
"Let us go after it. We'll see how tough it is when it is hunted!" I declare as I steel myself to do what must be done.
Kill the beast!
"I am ready."
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Quickly, LaOs addresses the others. "Look. You can follow him into the shrowd where we cannot see and will likely be at a disadvantage if you want. That creature is moving towards us through the fog--might it be able to see or navigate without the need of sight? Instead, if we wait where we can all see, perhaps we can gain the advantage of preparedness."
LaOs looks around the area surrounding his companions. They may be able to make tactical use of the terrain and gravestones in their battle against the beast. Taking up a position behind a gravestone, LaOs calls out. "Sharpe! Can you see the beast? And what of the window?" He tenses, ready to throw his stone at whatever may emerge from the mist.
Has Sharpe befallen our enemy or found the window? Listen: Sharpe/Window Stranger (1d20=17)
(Sorry for the double-roll--I forgot to put the right dice in the roller (1d0 instead of 1d20).
Sharpe has not encountered either just yet.
I quickly maneuver my way back from the mist, the log in my hands at the ready.
"That gravestone might be too small for you to hide behind friend! I say we take whatever this is head on!"
I take one final glance into the mist, trying to spot either Sharpe or the hulk I saw only a shadow of before, hoping desperately to be ready when it clears the mist.
He is challenging my strength, but without tactics or the means to back himself up.
"Mr. Black, Mr. Red: Follow me! This thing will not expect a sudden attack!" I say to the armed pair.
We three are more than a match for any beast.
"Ladies, be careful, but I suspect you can take care of yourself!" I direct towards the unarmed two.
There, a sop. We can all be heroes if we do not hesitate.
At the top end, the trunks bloom into withering limbs, which wind and root together to form the thing's open pelvis; more branches extend upward, knotting together into a facsimile of a ribcage. Lengths of fencing jut out for shoulders, reinforcing a thin core of vine and more posts, broken in half to serve as arms. At the end of the arms, unusually thick rakes stick out, reaching over long new-growth claws.
On top of all of this the vines come together, feeding into a narrow cone of fencing that comes to a point at the front. This top cone of fencing has a dirty blue piece of cloth stretched around it.
The monstrosity carries the skeleton of some animal in its claws, breaking it with little fanfare, causing thin bones to spill and bounce across the ground with hollow cracks. At the sight of you, it throws the skeleton halves away, causing them to roll down the hill, splintering as they go, until they stop or jump above gravestones. It lowers itself, the point of the head searching at each of you in turn. Upon looking from side to side, it seems to stop, the fence inside it shivering, causing a flock of rattling to echo through the air. Then it launches itself forward, running at you.
But wait! Seeing the sight of a hostile enemy awakens something new in each of you. Wait to post your surprise actions until after my next post.
LaOs:
kuhlmeye:
Rainfall:
Gabriel:
Interrobang:
When you attack an enemy, categorize the power you're using behind the blow on a scale from 1-10.
What exactly is that thing? Spot (1d20=11)
There has to be something that can do more damage... Search: What could hurt such a beast? (1d20=2)
(God damn it!)
Can the beast be hurt? Knowledge (Applicable?): What is the beast/How to fight the beast? (1d20=15)
[Edit]
After moving to the side, LaOs plants his feet and hurls his stone at the giant creature before him. "Take this, fiend!"
(Gah!
As the thing charged, she dropped back and to the left, trusting her arm as she brought the sling up to speed.
Spot 8
Victor Sharpe, Esq. stands with more confidence than he seems to deserve, his glowing knife held at the ready, his thin hairless chest bare to the charging creature.
"Prepare to charge, men. I will soon have this beast at my mercy!" boasts Sharpe.
I need only find the face.
"Charge!" he says, preparing to leap to the side and stab the beast as it passes!
1d20=16
Spot! 13
1d20=13
Readied STAB! 10
1d20=10
I take a single step forward to bring myself closer to Sharpe, and ready my weapon. While I know that I am at least somewhat armored, battered leather will not protect me from that. I choose to be patient, to let it make its bull rush, scanning my eyes over its body to find some kind of weakness, some kind of opening... something, anything that stands out.
"Hrrragh!" When the creature nears, I heft my sword and swing it with substantial force. The blade carves through the air at a downward angle; the attack feels loose, unprofessional, and I mentally admonish myself for the error. I should know better.
Spot! 1d20 = 19
SUTTON HOOOOOO 1d20 = 13
On a scale of 1-10: swinging at a 6
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Remembering a part of my past, I drop the tree trunk I've been carrying with me. I quickly look to see my compatriots, all of whom look more internal than they should be, faced with a monstrosity such as this. Looking back to the beast, I try to see if there could be any weak spots on the creature while trying to get a better look at what we are facing.
Moving forward towards the creature, I hope beyond all hope that my memory proves me true, as my fist swings towards the beast.
Spot (1d20=16)
A mighty punch, I say! (1d20=11)
Not as mighty as I had hoped.
Spot - 4
Some of you, then, back up a step in terror, the angle of your attack revealing a new horror.
Pygmalion, Kuhlmeye, Interrobang:
Initiative:
LaOs
Pygmalion
Kuhlmeye
Interrobang
The Thing
Rainfall
Gabriel's turn.
Spot check to see if the attacks seem to be having an effect on the thing. If not, she's probably going to bolt down the gully next turn: 5
Attack roll: 12
"Have at thee, Beast!" LaOs calls out at the beast while heaving his stone. The thing is large, but LaOs has a new-found confidence based on their superiority in numbers.
(Please? I worked so hard preparing this stone for you. You're never home for dinner when you say you will be. I'm tired of eating alone at night!)
Pygmalion's turn!
From mental fortitude gained by long association or mental procrastination prompted by danger?
Standing firm and gazing into the eyes of the pathetic head within the ribcage, Sharpe projects his will into the beast. "Be still in your agony!" he shouts, maneuvering himself to keep the face in view.
I will pity you when I have secured your release.
1d20=17
Kuhlmeye
"Let's take this thing down!" I cry out, trying to rally those around me.
interrobang
My recently-recovered memories flash in my mind and I remember what I've learned: harder hits are harder to land. The next swing of my weapon is more controlled, more restrained and hopefully more accurate.
SWING-ANNA-MISS 1d20 = 13
the thing
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At the slice, the creature rears backwards and then plunges forwards as if becoming fetal. There's a series of popping sounds, and the creature sheds fenceposts like quills, wooden stakes driving deeply into all of you. The wounds are great, no one left without a length of wood entering one side of their body and pushing out the other. The silken woman is injured the most, the post striking through her stomach and staining her robes red.
kuhlmeye:
LaOs:
Rainfall's turn
What is this thing?
Stumbling back, she let another stone fly, then took refuge in the dell, hoping to shield herself from any further barrages.
Spot has she seen the face yet?
Attack 16
Now I will show you blinding pain. Taiia!! Staring at the monster before him, LaOs raises the stone, readying a throw. A look of concentration comes over his face, replaced quickly by a wave of anger, hatred, and finally, determination. LaOs wordlessly hurls the stone, which ignites in a brilliant white flame before it leaves his fingers. His face his calm as he watches the stone fly through the air, but his eyes shine with Holy light.
(Ah damn it!!
Pygmalion's turn.
He spots the narrow cone of fencing with a dirty blue piece of cloth stretched around it.
Does this veil conceal the beast's true eyes?
He looks up, up, up the twelve feet of the creature, seeking a handhold. He quickly drops to a crouch, preparing to make the prodigious leap to grab hold of the back of the creature's neck.
Let us push the limits.
Landing heavily, but still maintaining a tenuous one-handed grip, Sharpe brings the knife down to try to slash through the blue cloth!
1d20=17
Slicing the cloth = 5
1d20=5
kuhlmeye
If only my last attack had the power of the first. Perhaps dropping the weapon was a bad idea...
Looking around for the weapon dropped, I quickly pick the trunk back up. Steadying myself, I take a swing at the beast, hoping to do more damage than my fist could allow.
Attack: Hitting with tree trunk. (1d20=15)