Alsande's page

I'm really sorry for your troubles, and I completely understand how gaming can become a way to hide.

It is often said on these boards that real life must come first, so do not worry if you have to drop this or other games, and thank you for telling us.

"Looks functional. Take care that it's not occupied."

Hidden beneath several layers of raggedy headscarves and ponchos, Alsande speaks lazily. "Yes. We need a base, or we will not last that much. Some work, and if we're lucky we might even get ourselves water. And tomorrow, we lay out a strategy for mapping, patrolling and setting traps."

Alsande's face is level, in either utter seriousness or cutting sarcasm. "Could you ask God the best silver-to-copper ratio for solenoidal spires? I'm getting tired of reforging. I'm the tinkerer here, by the way. If you need your equipment set up, I can help."

Nezaquetzual, if you could write your cover name in the stat bar, it'd be easier. Also ugh, ALsande's made with an outdated version of SoM. I'll have to rebuild him soon.

"Ah, cold-forged iron. Famed for its disruptive properties against enchantments and fey magic. Likely not a bad idea."

Reporting in.

Alsande cocks his head. "So, I guess it was not his cup of tea. On the plus side, people will stop asking about that dead guy. So, are we riding out at dawn to hunt like in the best tales?"
The thin fingers of the Any-Tool reassemble the high-tech rifle and place it on the android's back. "I'll take cold water with salt and lemon, and a shot of the strongest liquor you have. Taste doesn't matter."

Moving to the main shop, Alsande buys an outstanding amount of trail rations, indulging in dried nuts. He then moves to the inn, where he finds a quiet spot to set up a large collection of small devices, assembling and combining them with the silvery, spidery arms of the Any-Tool peeking from his sleeves to help.

If anyone wants to RP a chat I'm here, otherwise I'll just buy 30 days of food rations.

"I could use some cash for materials. I'm in."

Alsande slumps back into the chair, muttering under his breath. "Typical. Never try to innovate, keep on the old solutions. No wonder the world went to hell."

"Oh? Now that is interesting. An unmanned garriage could draw electrical power from a rail, turining it into motion like my rifle does. Although someone should find an alternative way to avoid the sudden acceleration, well, killing everyone. And it can be done without magic!"

Alsande springs to attention at the apparently unexplained action, then slumps down as soon as he realizes it's magic. Not much he can learn from that.
"Bounties, hunting for criminals and bringing back proof of their demise. Although ears are a terrible marker. First, an ear can be cut off without killing the target. Second, it is hard to recognize an individual just by their ear, one can do using magic, I suppose, but it's quite more tedious. Then again, the only part of body that alone can provide suitable identification is the head, and a head is cumbersome to carry. But this could be avoided should you provide one of those extradimentional manifoldic spaces, I believe usually referred to as bags of holding? The last alternative is for us to bring one of your associates with us, assuming there is someone you trust to report accurately and that you trust us not to murder them, something you have no reason to do."
Someone should create some device for capturing definite proof. How could it be made...

Alsande moves towards the construction site, mentally taking notes on the tools and techniques. They add high-carbon steel for support, rather than tungstenum. Heavier but cheaper.

I am alive and operational.

As the discussion grows further from his own interests, Alsande twists and turns the spidery silver needles into a different configuration, prods and blades intertwining with his fingers. With the newly configured device, he starts working on the capacitors lining his gun barrel, discharging sparks with small popping sounds.
"By the way, I have ways of taking out someone without killing them, should you need to."

If Xocu's check can be an Aid Another, I'll take 10, +2 from healer's kit for a 20. 8 uses remaining. If successful, he recovers 2 HP.
Also, can I purchase a Traveller's Any-Tool? I forgot it at creation.

"Gods of yore, did a butcher teach you first aid? That's the most... ok, nevermind. Just stand still."
From the pockets lining Alsande's clothes come out slender blades and spidery metallic needles. His lean fingers working with clockwork precision, the android douses gauze with clear liquids, numbing the flesh and cleaning the wound before working on removing the bullet and mending the damage as much as he can. Finally, he stitches the cut with a clear wire and pockets his tools back after rubbing them in alcohol.
"The shot got an artery, and you almost opened it with that bloody knife. Dumb luck you didn't bleed yourself out. I gave you tendon stitches, so it shouldn't scar, but if you pull them I'll switch to barbed wire."

As trouble seems to have died down, Alsande walks out the front door and straps the rifle to his back. "Ah, being the Law. Sounds like quite the bother, to be honest, but I can appreciate a well-run society. Although I'm not sure this doesn't qualify as excessive violence. Oh well. Need a stitch as we wait?"
As a magician drawing trick dices, Alsande produces surgeon's tools and thread from one of his myriad hidden pockets.

With a groan, Alsande grabs his rifle, spinning and setting the coils in a complex pattern. A small spark moves through the copper barrel. "Is it always that loud around you folks? Or maybe it's a local custom, saying hi with a few shots?"
Twirling the gun over in his hands, he loads a small sphere in place of a bullet, sliding a small lever over the chamber. "Are we going?"

"Sure, why not. Could use the money." Of course, assumed they aren't trying to dupe us. Might very well be hiring us as thugs, for all I know. Eyes open.
Alsande never was a good judge of character, and he compensates this weakness through full-fledged paranoia.

Alsande crooks his head, watching the newcomer.

"Don't care much for notoriety myself. What is the pay?"

"I... didn't give it a name. Didn't feel the need to. Right now it's just a prototype magnetophoric gun."

"Corrosion works too." Alsande lowers the scarf covering his head and takes a sip of the beverage through discolored lips. All of his skin seems to have an ashen tone, fingering him as not human.
"That's a custom-made caliber forty-five longarm, never seen another like that." he starts explaining, evidently proud of it. "The barrel's copper, and that layer around it is a solenoidal magnetophoric inductor I made myself. Pulsed current is channeled through spiriform conductors, inducing a magnetic field that can accelerate a projectile with no need for black powder. It's still pretty loud, but it travels a lot further without losing velocity. Heavy load on the metal, though, needs constant maintenance."

Spheres of Might rules changed since I set the character sheet up, I'll update in the next days.

Clad in a dust-covered traveling cloak, a jury-rigged rifle sitting next to him, Alsande is intent on sewing back a gash on his left arm and speaking with a hint of irritation.
"Yes, it technically went well. I am saying it could have gone better. I understand that the situation was frantic, but either "Take care, Hobgoblin incoming!" or "Hello there, mind helping us with our quarry?" would have been nicer ways to introduce yourself than wild shotgun blasts. And it's nice that they weren't aimed at us, but assume it's explosive is a good rule of thumb. Anyway, all things considered, you contained the damage effectively, and we got what we were looking for. Drinks to a job well done?"
The android cuts the thread with a small, intricate gizmo, and covers his arm with several layers of light fabric.

Alsande is an explorer and a scavenger. Perhaps he joined some temple raiding group and then stuck for added protection.

Alsande reporting in.