Oy! As requested, gameplay thread up for your dotting!
Dot
Dotting with my character now, gotta put the stat block in later
Neat.
Okay, shall we get started?
Okay.
All of you are on New Greyhawk station. It spins on an orbit that is between the asteroid belt and the nearest planet. It's the place where culture happens in the solar system and most ships stop here to get culture objects to sell on other planets. Like movies. Contraband isn't sold here: that includes guns, drugs, and slaves. The asteroid belt is mined by kobolds and dwarves, and both compete to get the largest asteroids to mine.
Life, for you, begins at the canteen or bar. There are a few people here to talk to. Including fixers, the bar man, and other people of interest.
Hesori hears a sound like a heavily armored dwarf seating himself heavily in a chair as a heavily armored dwarf seats himself heavily in a chair adjacent to her.
The dwarf tries, momentarily, to place his short and stumpy legs on the bar, but thinks better of it before actually putting the human carpentry to the test. Instead he removes his hermetically sealed gauntlets; the ponderous gloves are useful for deflecting laser beams and surviving the void of space, but by the dwarven gods are they heavy.
Placing a hand on either side of his Hidden Soldier helmet, he pulls the contraption off, lifting straight up in a manner that suggests he does not know the helmet can be loosened. He slams the helmet on the table, glad to be out of it, licks his hands, and uses his fingers to comb his close cropped helmet hair and neon blue-died beard.
His lumpy, almost ugly cute, face breaks into a wide grin as he notices Hesori.
"My apologies," he says in what he thinks is a suave and sophisticated tone, "I didn't see you there. No peripheral vision." He taps the side of his head, indicating what he can't see, even though he's taken the helmet with it's restrictive visor off and no longer has the problem. Noticing something, he leans closer, squinting under the lashunta's hood. "Hey! You're a lashunta, aren't you? Natural psionics, aren't you?" He looks excited and curious, like a boy who's found a stray cat and decided to pet it and is wondering if it's going to attack him or if it'll start purring and he can risk picking it up. "Are you reading my mind right now? What am I thinking?"
Testing, testing, one two three.
Working, 1...2...3...
The Goblin sat at a table in the corner, eating what appeared to be fried lumps of....something. He was humming to himself happily and not really paying attention to the world around him.
What really made him stand out, however, was the heavy armor that he was wearing.
The dwarf is happy to swap monikers. "Morgrymn Hafniumbeard, at your service, though my friends'd rather call me 'Cannon'." He runs a hand through his facial hair. "I haven't quite worked out whether it's a compliment or an insult, to be honest, but either way it lends itself to a great deal of puns." He stares into the middle distance, reminiscing, before he pulls himself back to reality.
"Well, the armor's pretty useful when it's useful, and worse than useless when it isn't. Still, I'd rather have it on and not need it than need it and have left it at home. Seeing as titanium plating doesn't fold up to fit in a backpack, I've little choice but to wear the infernal plate." Cannon enjoys complaining to anyone who'll listen, and it's evident on his face; a wide smile lets you know not to take his grousing too seriously.
"Besides! I'm a dwarf. Every species has something it excels at; lashunta get natural psionics, elves get a handy excuse not to go out for drinks, heh, and we bearded folk are good at carrying things." He leans in, hiding his mouth with a hand and dropping to a stage whisper. "At least, that's the common line. But my theory is everyone else just tells us dwarves as much so we'll carry their stuff when they don't want to."
Without looking up, the Goblin in the heavy armor sitting in the corner says "Goblin good at everything. It our curse."
The dwarf swivels his head as Frak! speaks.
"Woah. Is that a goblin in iridishell? There's a story there, sure as eggs is eggs. C'mon, Hesori, let's relocate." He stands up, awkwardly tucking his gauntlets under one arm and his helmet under the other, and makes his way over to Frak!
"Heya!" he enunciates. "I'm Cannon. What's your name?"
"Me Frak! and this Darkness!" he says, finally looking up. When Frak! mentions darkness, a small orb of pure blank rises up from the seat beside him, hovering in the air at the height of Frak's head.
The waitress comes around asking everyone what else they would like for drinks. So far nothing bad has happened.
(Roll perception for fun and giggles)
"Me am coming to floating village to pre-sent Goblins to Longshanks and Shortshanks. Me meet Darkness many times ago. We helps each other do lots o' tings."
Cannon's curiosity is piqued. "Do things like what?" he asks Frak!
"Darkness like to hackn slash! He is pointy, too!" as he speaks, the orb of darkness lands in his hand and transforms into a sword, the blade of which is a mirror of the night sky.
"See! Darkness like stabby stab!" as he talks, he swings his blade and then stabs a piece of meat, which he pops into is mouth. When he swings it, he makes a *Swish* sound effect.
Okay, Cannon and Hesori, both of you feel on edge as if something is going to happen. Frak! is his happy self.
Three figures enter the bar, cloaked except for their snouts pointing out of their cloaks.
After the demonstration, Frak! turns his blade of darkness back into a mote, that then settles back down on the seat next to him.
"Look at everyone who won't buy our products," says one cloaked figure.
"Lets show them the fury of the Dusk Scaled Tribe," said another. And the cloaked figures removed their cloaks to show that they are space kobolds. They all fire into the cantina, firing their laser pistols.
Surprise round, Frak! is surprised by the space kobolds.
Space Kobolds' fire:
Cannon looks up at the kobolds, bewildered at their sudden assault.
"Hold up!" he shouts, "Let's not do anything we'll regret!" But at the continued laser fire the dwarf turns grim.
"Damn it." He flips the table onto it's side, ducking behind it for the meager protection it provides. Moving quickly, he forces his helmet back on over his beard, locks his gauntlets into place
Cannon draws a tactical starknife.
"Hey!" he shouts, trying to attract the kobolds' attention away from less heavily armored customers. "Life's a meritocracy, ya crazy lizards! If no one wants to buy your crap, it's 'cause your crap is crap!" He throws his starknife at the closest kobold.
He then recalls the enchanted weapon to his hand.
They are targeting random people. So far they hit an android.
Watching Cannon flip his table, Frak! will scream "No! My meats!" as the tray of meat scatters across the floor.
"Shut up," says one of the kobolds, as one was hit by Cannon's knife. "What do you know of marketing?"
"More than you, evidently," the dwarf retorts. "Coming in here and massacring yourselves by pissing me off, that can't possibly help you, from a public relations standpoint."
The kobolds shoot again, this time only two, as one is injured. They shoot at random people in order to cause terror.
As Frak! begins to react to the situation, the area immediately around him dims a bit, as if he begins to radiate darkness. He again summons his blade of darkness, and with a battle cry of "MY MEATZ!" he uses a hand to vault over the table and move into melee with as many of the Kobolds as he can.
Alright, we need to do initiative. Already, Cannon moved in the first round, and now we are going on the second.
Second Round
Everyone roll initiative.
Okay, initiative now rolled, according to RAW, Hesori attacks first. However, this is pbp, so any of the players can go first.
OR
Yep, that was a miss. And no, the kobolds are not wearing any armor.