Eldritch: NetherWar (Inactive)

Game Master tumbler

Sinclair follows the smelter and uses magic to fix the smelter.

Gracie tries to parse Eoten's words. "Kuh-nikh-t... oh! Knight! No problem. Looks like there's a goat too."

The Hypnotist breaks a brief smile at Seven's plan. With age comes wisdom he thinks to himself. He assists where he can, feeling uncomfortable with anything that remotely seems like celebrating.

The conveyor belt that delivers the ore to the massive bucket like smelter is broken. To compensate, townsfolk are carrying the chunks of rock by hand, but the cannot move fast enough to keep the massive operation fed.

Sinclair reaches out, wrapping magic around each part, straightening bent iron, connecting broken joints. The workers watch in wonder as someone uses magic to aid them, rather than to grind them down.

When Sinclair finishes, a matter of minutes that would have taken days of work, the villagers, well, they don't clap, but one does place his hand on the young mage's shoulder and look into his eyes, nodding slowly. Then they go back to work, churning out weapons for Una's war machine.

Oops, somehow I miss this post earlier:

race is led out of town on a road that fades from cobblestone to dirt, only a half mile or so. The road stretches into the distance. On one side is a field of low plants, something like peanuts or soybeans, but with dark red-violet leaves. These are undisturbed, but on the other side of the road are some more violently violet plants that look like tiny trees. Not in the way that broccoli sometimes look like trees, but more like if potato plants were more serious about their attempt to emulate tree-ness.

These have been ripped from the ground, crushed, broken, pulled from the ground, and otherwise ravaged. The tubers look more like turnips or rutabaga, but a deep green color.

The farmer gestures in futility at the field, "These were near ready to harvest. Without the harvest, many won't make it through the winter."

She looks over the field and recognizes the situation is harder than simply replanting. Her mind goes through various things one does with tubers.

"Do you normally just store the tubers in a root cellar whole? Or do anything to preserve them? I mean, what I'm getting at is, the ones that are close enough to being dug up anyway, but have been half-crushed or can't be replanted... they're not in a state to be stored as they are, I get that. Plus if they're like our potatoes, they're nightshades so you have to be careful about growth stages. But if you, like, gathered the ones that are dug up and almost ready, you could peel, cook, and mash them into a paste. I reckon the cooking would pull out any solanins that would make them inedible. Then dry the paste into flakes or a powder, which should keep for a long time as long as you keep it dry. Then you can reconstitute the mash flakes with water later and eat them. It don't taste as good, but my gran cooked with mashed potato flakes all the time." She looks at the farmer and shrugs. "Sorry, maybe one of the wizards have a magic solution, but magic superheroes won't always be around to help out, you know? This way you could help yourselves."

Ignoring the plight of their vegetable patch or the mechanisations of the smelter, the ancient giant feasts upon the fare provided, then sated gathers back up his stone trophy of Cayrne's hand.

Grabbing some old rope, the brute binds the rock hand to his belt with a broad smile before jabbing his brick like thumb across the remaining space;

"Plenty room still for héafodbán of Una..."

The mood is far from festive. The townsfolk are fearful about food, meeting their production quotas, and what happens when Kada'vrus and company don't report in.

The factory soon begins churning out weapons again, something like late 19th century rifles, as well as more medieval implements. The weapons go into crates stuffed with straw, and the crates go onto a railroad car.

Those who aren't working in the factory work to gather what they can of the roots to process them. Someone suggests using the waste heat from the factory to dry them more quickly. Hot dry air they have in abundance.

Not really being the domestic type in even the best of circumstances, Briareus lights up a stogie and patiently waits to be about it.

He sidles up next to the Hypnotist and offers him a cigar. "You wan' one?" he asks.

When all is done and Gracie regroups with the others. "Look, we aren't really gonna help till we deal with Una. Shall we get on with it? Let's hope Silver Tiger's all right."

With grease smudged against his warm-toned black skin, Macallah gives Briareus a chuckle. "I've quit those, my friend but I appreciate the offer. How 'bout ya give us a hand loadin' these crates up on the carts, ye? I reckon with those arms of yours, we'd be done in no time!"

"Are we following the rail car to Una's citadel, or do you want to head there now? We can recon the defenses, and watch the delivery. Maybe sneak in." Sinclair suggests.

"The train would get us there quickly. I could fly all of us there with ease, but Una would see us coming a mile away. The train would provide cover..." Seven looks at each of you, searching for tactical acumen beyond her own training.

"Rail car seems like a good idea."

Gylfir seems to gain a faint tinge of excitement.

"I never got to ride one of these 'trains' I heard so much about when they were a fad not long ago."

Meanwhile...

Wanting to get a good view of his destination, Silver Tiger opted to climb one of the nearby buildings and then travel across the rooftops, as he did in the Monastery as a boy. There was something freeing about bounding across the open stretches between buildings, only now he did it as a ninja, moving stealthily and using the darkness to his advantage.

"Train sounds good," the Dunwich Horror adds, blowing out thick, spicy smoke.

The train is massive, a steampunk fantasy. It belches smoke and cinders that settle onto your skin and try to get into your eyes. There are no passenger cars, so you can cram yourselves into box cars or under a tarp on a flat bed if you want to stay concealed.

The road to Una's citadel, and the train tracks that parallel it, seem to have little connection to the terrain, and at times rises high above it on precariously thin struts, providing a dangerous view of the rolling hills and swamps of the Netherworld.

Strange silhouettes flap through the twilight skies on four wings, while odors of rot and brimstone waft up from the streams and springs you pass. Even the plant life has adapted to the hostile climate, with everything covered in vicious barbs and thorns, or snapping shut with the slightest touch. Here and there, shadows move near the roadside, only to dart away when you draw near.

Eventually, a sprawling metropolis replaces the harsh countryside. Dark clouds loom over the gray city, dropping an ashy rain on every street and surface. Above it all towers a wicked, writhing citadel of black stone and iron spires.

Una’s citadel towers high above the surrounding landscape, with her capitol city stretching outward from it for a dozen miles in every direction. A huge variety of strange beings—mutated and magical humans, elves, dwarves, demons, lizard-kin, and stranger—wander the streets, all representatives and traders from the 999 worlds the Queen of the Netherworld has conquered. You won't have to worry about blending in.

Am I understanding that Silver Tiger ran 50 miles to the city? I don't see any special movement, so you should arrive at about the same time. ST can do some recon in advance if he wants, but I don't want to linger too long on that.

That was the plan, ya. He assumed that they would be taking hours to help the locals.

I was going to post something about Eoten seeking to best the ironclad dragon but RL stymied me lol... probably just as well...

Eoten casts a hungry eye at the assortment of races and beings walking the city's streets;

"Ho-ho. What a béorscipe these burgas will macian!"

That was the plan, ya. He assumed that they would be taking hours to help the locals.

They do take hours, but the train moves quickly, and ST only moves at a normal pace. I don't think there are any rules for overland movement in the game, but you will only be there maybe an hour before them. What do you want to have looked at in that time. Make some skill checks that you think are appropriate (stealth, perception, etc.) and I'll tell you what info you have gathered.

The rest of you leave the train just before it pulls into the station, avoiding inspections upon arrival. Seven wiggles a few fingers and the dust of travel flies off of you. She dozed a few times on the trip, and looks refreshed.

She gazes up at the citadel, "There is is. It looks quite formidable. I don't think a direct assault is our best bet."

"I can create a portal to teleport inside or make us invisible. But I suspect that Una would be extra cautious detecting magic, right?"

"Let's gather some information about where people regularly enter the citadel and see how we can blend in." Sinclair suggests.

Eoten eyes the citadel warily, then shrugs;

"We should find Seolfor Tiger na?"

Fair enough.

Perception for various options to infiltrate the castle: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (6) + 20 = 26
Stealth to remain undetected while looking for said entrances: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (5) + 20 = 25
Athletics if needed to climb: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21

"Kid, Mac addresses Sinclair, "sometimes magic isn't the answer. A sheila like her will be snuffing us out in record time once she gets a wiff of our magic. Now, I don't mean to be belittle ye, but as she's claimed 999 realms, I'd imagine her strength would trump your ability to mask our presence. This one, might be best if we go it mundane."

Sinclair nods at Mac's advice, "you're right. I've a lot to learn. We need to find a way to use technology against her."

"I'm worried about Silver Tiger, but at the same time he didn't want to wait for us. And looking for him might blow his and our cover."

After Hypnotist speaks, she looks at the others. "Much as I like a quick in and out, I think the Hypnotist has a point. I can take off my armor... damn, should've asked one of those villagers for different clothes... but still, I can become less noticeable." She had likely already dismissed Calesvol on the train and was not being illuminated by her glowing sword. "My question is, what about the big guys? If we're not using invisibility, how do they become less obvious? Eoten could bring back the Prof, but what about Dunwich?"

Eoten continues to gaze hungrily at passing denizens, then turns a jaundiced eye down toward Gracie at her suggestion;

"Bring back the crypel? I think ne girl. Let one of the wiccan use scinncræft..."

The brute flexes his shovel-like hands, then returns his gaze to the distant citadel...

"Take a look 'round, Good Knight. These two look more at home than we do. Throw a cloak on us lot and we'd be a regular bunch-a bogans muckin about"

Hypnotist's words are true, Eoten isn't the only giantish creature walking about. They aren't everywhere, but there a few.

"As Kadavrus made clear, I am not the only undead monstrosity in this region as well."

Could I use a Hero Point to make my eyes turn purple as though I was controlled by Kadavrus still?

"Yea, I think sumpin lo-tek on this one might do that trick.

Ah, gimmesec."

With that The hundred Handed One wades into the crowd, a big smile firmly affixed to his face and his self-confidence at full power, double front.

With his phone out he starts working the crowd, trying to get the answer to some simple questions.

Can I make an Investigation roll to find out about food and other supply-related activities going to the castle? My plan is that we just hide in a truck bringing them their monthly supply of falafels or whatever, but if you're going to rule that I speak no languages that might not go far. ^_^ Also, can I continue to apply the Contacts benefit? With the literal entire pantheon of Mythology as his drinking buddies I would conjecture that a few aliens might not call outside the purview, but I don't know if that's something you'll allow.

Silver Tiger

The castle is a towering gothic confection. The main entrance is over a high thin bridge a hundred feet long. The building sits on a stone base, but it isn't clear what surrounds it, just more of that disconcerting grey red swirl that makes up the sky.

Traffic crosses the bridge. Horses, not horses, carts, wagons, knights on some sort of two legged dinosaur like creatures. Food, supplies, all Empty carts come back across.

There are many towers and windows. If you could cross the gap, you could enter one of those.

You could climb under the bridge. Other than the occasional flyby, no one seems to be paying much attention to that.

Deadman, if you can't, I'm sure Seven, Sinclair, or even The Hypnotist can give you some "colored contacts."

Dunwich, I'm inclined to say yes. It just helps me move things forward.

Investigation: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23

Dunwich Horror scans the crowd for a while before finding a familiar, if ugly, face. It is the face of a large black bull with downswept glistening horns. The bull head sits atop the body of a long thick snake, 20 feet long and 9 inches thick. His old buddy Ophiotaurus.

Wow! 1000 bonus points unto GM Supertumbler for the obscure mythology grab! Also, everyone, yeah, it's half bull, half snake, officially putting a voracious giant in the 'tame' category.

"Aye! Ophiotaurus, buddy, how'u'doin'! Ay can I get a round for my buddy here?

A'ight, well I got a flight t' catch. Good seeing you. You're ever by the old neighborhood we should...nah, you'll never be there. Wouldn't be safe. Well you take care."

Within a surprisingly short number of minutes, Briareus comes back to the group.

"So my buddy says that there's a big shipment coming in of of this special seafood, they call it 'breen'--some kind of salted sentient jellyfish, Idunno. So it figures that we can hitch a ride, and tell 'em we're special 'kitchen staff' that gotta prepare it just right or it's deadly. Or explodes. Whatever. Should get us in the doors, we talk it up good.

You guys in?"

"You are all entirely too loud." said Silver Tiger as he appeared among the group.

"And here's the Tiger. What do you have to report form your scouting? You've had hours to look around."

Grace slouches downward. "yeah, well, I'm... maybe I'm just having trouble takin' this in on, yeah? Never mind. I'll just shut up and go along then. Just point me in the right direction and I'll go." I have no idea what I'm doing and where I am. Why did I agree to this again? her eyes go over to the villagers, preparing Una's tribute. Oh, right.

She dismisses her armor for the time being as it is shiny and obvious, and if she is offered a cloak she takes it.

"I have found a few ways in, but I don't know that they would be useful for our...larger members. Perhaps a two-pronged attack would serve us best?"

"Thanks Dunwich, let's go find out who and how many can hitch a ride with seafood delivery. And, Tiger can bring the others his way." Sinclair suggests.

This is the kind of challenge that is hardest to run by PbP in my opinion. There is a lot of paralysis around making decisions, who is in charge, what is the best option. I'm going to show you the mechanics in hopes that will help you navigate the situation and move things along. Feel free to push the narrative. If you want to get up to something you think is really audacious, you can always spend a Hero Point to edit the scene.

The skills that you can use to get into the fortress and find the Alloy Adytum are: Athletics (DC 16), Deception (DC 15), Expertise: Magic (DC 20), Stealth (DC 20), and Technology (DC 18). You can also, of course, use powers related to those checks. I will respond to whatever you want to do/your check results as I can.

It sounds like in that case I could just hop over the walls with Leaping? Though that seems very unsubtle.

As the train nears the castle, the Dunwich Horror takes out his phone and starts a very particular application.

Around the time when William the Conqueror first touched England, Hephaestus, deity of all those that make things, created this device. Though it's ilk would not be seen in the hands of mortals for another thousand years, it has as much in common with a mortal's cell phones as the sun has to a candle.
Made with a smooth blending of magic and something not quite technology, the hand-held device transcends the phrase "internet of things".

It is a road. But not a road between two points. A road between all points.

"So the H-man sez t' me, he sez this thing will wirelessly find and connect to any piece of technology, creating a personal LAN--whatever that means. He sez I could interface with an editor's computer from the Washington Times as easily as I could a Russian Soyez capsule.

Time t' see if he knows his business."

Technology!: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (20) + 10 = 30

Hephaestus was a cripple, and his wife, Aphrodite, carried on an epic century-spanning affair with his rival Ares.

But he knew his business.

Eoten continues to balefully gaze at the citadel, he had stormed many motte and bailey fortresses and the like back in antiquity. This structure however was something different, its very sustenance challenged him...

"So Eoten hides in wægn until inside? Then we rendan them all asunder?"

The brute grins at the prospect of mayhem.

Sinclair adjusts everyone's appearance when they hitch a ride with the seafood delivery subtly using his magic. As with lying, it's better to lie as little as possible, in order to deceive.

Expertise: Magic (DC 20): 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (20) + 16 = 36

Let's go with wagons and minor disguises to get across the bridge and into the building.

The wagon rattles across the smooth stones of the bridge. There is a tense moment as you pause for inspection, Eoten passes as a pile of fish and the rest of you as fish mongers.

Some others may wish to climb/leap/sneak across, that's fine.

Once inside

Typically, things like what Dunwich and Sinclair are pulling there would require spending Hero Points, but since they are helping me move things along, I'll call it a wash. I do like the idea of a cell phone device that works anywhere. Might be a good way to connect Daedulus. Maybe a good upgrade for the future.

Once inside, you find that the fortress is filled with room after room of gothic vaults, dark corners, small side rooms, hidden passages. There is probably some pattern to the chaos, but it is not immediately apparent. Guards appear in armor, some as large as ogres and demon creatures fly in the vaults above.

Seven stops for a moment, staring into empty air. She releases a bit of magical energy and for just an instant you see a shimmer of violet energy flow over nearby walls. "Some sort of sensory net sniffing for magic users, but I have disabled it. For the moment, I believe we are undetected."

Somehow, Dunwich's phone finds a connection, and a map of the fortress appears. Then a message<Courtesy of the Defiant>

You needed to create 7 total degrees of success with those checks, and the two 20s knocked it out of the park, dodging a couple of tough guard fights.

With the help of an unknown source, you move through the fortress unnoticed. At one point, in the distance, you see a 10 ft orange demon, massive of shoulders and chest, with blue tattoos in dragon patterns on his arms and chest. He travels with 5 winged demons, red skin, upswept horns, the works. Based on the deference everyone seems to give him, you would guess he is in charge of something.

You work your way higher and higher, up staircases that wind and twist, finally coming near the peak of the citadel to the throne room itself.

Titanic pillars of black marble support this massive throne room near the citadel’s summit, while black-flamed candles shed a gloomy ambiance. Sparse decor in gold and red provides some color, drawing your attention to a golden throne of bone and twisted faces. A large mirror behind the throne reflects the room and the dancing flames of the candles... but not any of you.

Sinclair breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the throne room without violence.

He whispers to his companions, "The mirror behind the throne is a portal, probably leading to Una's Alloy Adytum. The room might not be empty as it appears. Step carefully."

Ex. Magic: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (7) + 9 = 16
Ah, the Alloy Adytum.
Mac keeps his eyes peeled. "Stay vigilant. There's no telling what could happen in her demesne."

Briareus reaches up and picks what he thinks is the last of the salted fish from Eaoten's hair and pops it into his mouth. It was a good idea just covering the guy with fish and hoping for the best. Might have to remember that.

"The Aye Tummy whatsis? And ya this the de main...castle, boyo," he replies to the odd words being tossed around.

"Aye, I got a great idea. If the mirror's a portal, howsabout The Big Guy just goes through and starts beating on things? Then the rest of us go and clean upwhatever's left?"

Greek Titans were not known for their patience, and having sliced through the outer defenses, he felt anxious to get this over with and be home in time for corn flakes.

"Oy! Eoten-baby! Go through dat dere mirror. I be right behind yous!"

Silver tiger followed along behind the others, opting to stay hidden as he moved.

"Perhaps before we go rushing off into a place without, say, air, we take a moment to prepare? Can anyone produce air for the group to breathe?"