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And though they knew it not, the beginnings of this strange relationship between Predator and Prey would be to the benefit of all. For in those dark days, the top of the food-chain was Death and no hunter was strong enough to evade him for long.
Anyone can take over at this point. I'll throw in a Bertram post.
You guys can spend them now. I don't have anything more planned really. I just wanted to get all you guys together, test out combat using the M6 system, and throw out the mystery of the metal-laced aardwolf as a hint of later things. :)
While eating the face of the beast, Turk notices something odd. Its skull appears to be partially sheathed in some shiny metal. It doesn't taste good.
It was a strange fellowship formed that day.
Hefting the strange and smooth device, Heist realises it is well-balanced for throwing... He hurls the object which spins like a blade. HIT: vs Dodge 12+10 (22) <-- HIT As always luck is a fickle friend that sometimes shows up when Heist needs it most. Lucky DAM: x2 = 36 vs Soak 18... 18 DAM <-- ROADKILL The strange apple logo'd object arcs up and then descends, smashing into the base of the aardwolf's skull driving it down, never to rise again.
The Aardwolf runs far and fast. But does it go far and fast enough? Heist can see the creature in the distance, and he still has a few objects to throw.
Flik watches the wounded beast run right past him and debates his options.
ORDER:
All good points, guys. Thanks. Let's be conservative (for the moment) and go with your defenses remaining static. If we decide after playing awhile that we'd like the try the lowered defense idea and see how that works... we can test drive it. Flik and Poe are up...
Prophet? Care to weigh in on the subject?
We feel no sympathy for the aardwolf but, nevertheless, we must pity the creature a little bit. It was efficiently bushwhacked by smaller creatures working together. I wonder what it felt in those last moments, pummeled from all sides by animals it only saw as game? ~Bertram the Elder, 22nd Keeper of Memories Heist channels the spirit of Big League pitchers and fires a rocket over the plate... The aardwolf focusing on too many small targets at once, doesn't see the hurtling ceramic kitty until it crashes loudly against its skull, stripping a chunk of fur away. It staggers sideways under the blow, giving Turk the opportunity he was looking for. The Honey Badger rolls in beneath the larger beast, locks onto its throat with his teeth, and brings his rear legs up to tear into the soft vitals. Only the persistent growling of the badger is heard... as if the aardwolf's stomach was raising a complaint. The aardwolf leaps spastically and yelps but can't shake the badger loose. The spry wallaby leaps to one side of the flailing beast and gives it the old Queensland Howyadoin'. Summoning the skills of The Master, Prophet delivers the goods. The beasts legs nearly go out from under it, but it manages to right itself. Heist ATT:
Turk ATT:
Prophet ATT:
ORDER:
OK, as I read the rules, in a game with NON-static defenses the -D for Wounded, Incapacitated, and the like would apply to the rolls for dodge, soak, etc. - essentially lowering all those defenses. The question is... do we want to apply that idea here? In other words, when an animal suffers a -1D (3 points in a static defense game), they would lose 3 points to Dodge, Soak, etc. This would make it easier to hit and damage a wounded target. The price is that the game becomes far more deadly for our animals as well. To give an example - with static defenses unmodified, Prophet hit but didn't hurt the aardwolf. If we choose to lower the defenses, the aardwolf will take damage from the kick which puts it unconscious and mortally wounded. I am happy to retcon that action, if that is the decision. Realistically, I think knocking down defenses makes sense... but it will make the game far more deadly. So, how do you guys want to play it?
DAM With his dextrous paws, Heist snatches up a strange globe. The odd sphere is filled with water, floating white flakes, and a string of miniature dogs standing on their hind legs for inexplicable reason. The raccoon barely notes the contents as he hurls it. The snow-globe shatters against the skull of the 'wolf. The creature shakes its head and snarls, trying to blink the water and white flakes from its eyes.
ORDER:
The aardwolf snarls and lunges at the valiant badger trying to catch Turk in his steely jaws. His teeth catch the badger's leg only briefly as Turk hisses and jumps free.
At the same time, the crazed wallaby tosses the fearless squirrel over both Turk and the aardwolf. As he sails over, Flik lashes out with his pointy stick. He creases the skull of the 'wolf but his weapon barely penetrates the dense fur. He lands in a ball, unfurls and runs for another 40' before stopping. ORDER:
I do want to burn rubber after the landing... create enough distance that the big guy can't even hope to keep up. Do you want me to roll the additional d6 for the size difference? I'm fine either way. Feel free to roll the die.
Ben, a couple of things which maybe you and Jimmy read differently... so I want to get a consensus on this stuff: As I read the rules:
Just as an FYI - the Aardwolf is BIG - considered a size up (scaling rules) for you guys... so consequently, you'll get a +1D on your ATT and +3 on your Dodge against him. Depending on how you want to play it... I'll adjust how your dice are spent to reflect what the attack would look like using your existing rolls. I just need to know how far you intend to move, etc. and then I can figure out the math from there. If you think I've got the rules wrong, lemme know and we can hash it out in email or here if you want this to be an all hands discussion.
Prophet tries to scoop up the little furry catapult missile but the aforementioned squirrel leaps dextrously to one side of the wallaby's descending paw... either that or the invisible boom mic operator got in the way.
ORDER: Map: Petshop Boys INIT Rolls:
Heist looks around and realises the best defensive positions are in the den itself. He scurries towards the door under a barrage of non-stop questions from Flik. Flik stops only briefly when he spies a sharp sliver of wood siding peeling loose from the den's wall. With a deft grab, he tears his impromptu pointy stick free. Armed and fabulous, the doughty little squirrel is ready. Prophet and Heist hit the door at the same time - the raccoon pushing to get in, and the wallaby (with invisible camera crew) pulling to get out. Under their combined efforts, the door swings open quickly tumbling the three animals into the shop. Heist releases his grip on the squirrel but maintains a firm paw on his prize rocket. He quickly climbs onto a counter in sight of the door and starts assembling a collection of small throw-able objects that defy description as they were created by crazy Two-Legs. Flik and Prophet size each other up... or down as the case may be. Poe hops to the edge of the cage and regards everyone. "The big aard..uh..vark is coming! He has 50% more black stripes than brown!" Turk, holding ground outside the door to his larder, sees the big slavering beast isn't going to stop. It smells strange - unnatural in some way... but it might make for a good meal. It's hard to say.
Prophet: During Prophet's obsessive TV watching he came across Discovery Channel (feel free to call it something fun) which often had specials on different types of animals. He recognizes the creature as some relative of the aardwolf, possibly a mix of aardwolf and hyena. As he recalls from the show, these creatures are found in Africa and Asia - so definitely not a local boy.
Poe's and Prophet's excitement is cut short by the sight through the window. A very large and nasty looking dog-like creature charges toward the pet store... or rather it charges at a badger that seems to be defending the store's door accompanied by a broken-eared squirrel and some sort of snow-white, albino raccoon.
Turk closes in on his target by nose, following the subtle whiffs of it as they float tantalizingly in between the Two-Leg dens; he's almost there. He rounds a corner and a stiff breeze reveals the smorgasbord must be in the den in front of him. Unfortunately, he might have competition. A white raccoon and some rusty little squirrel are standing near the half-open entrance to his larder.
It was a small and curious moment in our history. Could instinct be overruled? Could Predator and Prey find a middle ground despite inherent animosity? Could cooperation happen? Some scholars have said this moment never happened, that it is mere fantasy not fact. Who can say and does it matter?
Ascension Day, 221 PA
Heist rushes forward. His last second diving catch manages to keep both the rocket and the squirrel from slamming into the pavement. He rolls to a furry stop, still cradling both. Flik, expecting a bone-jarring stop, instead finds himself standing in the clawed palm of a large raccoon.
Heist races in the shadow of the broken-eared squirrel leaping from tree to tree - keeping pace with him. Flik exults in his power; the raccoon is beaten! He jumps from a thick branch onto the gutter of the building. He rockets along the gutter avoiding the sometimes sticky patches of roofing. He puts on more speed, looking to outdistance his pursuer now that he has an open path. He passes a window and sees the creepy squirrel running alongside him. And it looks like the creepy squirrel is carrying a bomb or something! Instinctively Flik dodges left, distancing himself from the other squirrel... and right off the top of the building. Heist sees the fleeing squirrel, for no apparent reason, dive off the roof. Tail windmilling, the crazed squirrel rides the rocket all the way down. If Heist had ever seen Dr. Strangelove, he'd find the scene oddly funny... but all he can think about is that beautiful tool of destruction getting ruined when it hits the pavement.
Turk is on the scent. It is an olfactory kaleidoscope of deliciousness - dead Two-Legs, dead animals, feces, fermenting vegetation, rotten eggs... a smorgasbord of goodness. Turk's mouth waters as he trundles his bulky body quickly towards the hive. The scents are mixed but while there are several buildings that have 'edibles', one in particular seems to have the most intriguing and varied smells. The Badger makes a bee-line for it...
Even a paid-off East German judge would have to give Flik a 5.9 on his landing. His sleek rusty body and the rocket loft through the air perfectly counter-balanced by his wildly whipping tail. He lands with a dull thump on the far tree branch which bends like a fishing rod under the weight of the falling squirrel and massive firework. The limb bends to almost 90 degrees before it recovers. Flik breathes a sigh of relief, mouths off to the raccoon, and begins scampering across the branches with his prize... heading for the low roofed buildings of the town ahead. Undeterred, Heist follows, tracking the wily little rodent and the prize he carries...
Prophet shoves his narrow arm through the bars and stretches to reach his delicate paw into the lock. He invokes the names of several Saints within the pantheon of his all encompassing faith... but even with their considerable help (Sanford and Son be praised), he isn't quite able to trip the lock, though he was very, very close to success. Prophet takes a hop back and considers his options... when another possible option appears outside. A large black bird flaps into view. It circles once and then lands awkwardly on the window sill. Its beady eyes take in the sun glinting off the empty golden cubicles right by the window. Its head bobs up and down with twitchy erratic movements, observing the metal cubicles from different angles. It taps tentatively on the glass, as if testing it.
Heist is nearly inarticulate with desire. He knows exactly what the tree-rat is carrying. It is a CBX-2025. He admires its stabilized stick-like tail and the sharply point head of the rocket itself. A design that says 'elegance' and 'BOOM'. It is similar to the bottle-rockets Heist has managed to find from time to time.... except it is about 20 times the size and packed with gunpowder (the 'go juice') and powdered aluminum, titanium, zirconium, and magnesium... and maybe a few other -iums that Heist has heard about but only somewhat understands. Together, they make the CBX-2025 explode in a cascading shower of speckly silver-white burning metal. It is a professional grade firework... all 2 lbs of it. And when it goes BOOM, it'll be big.
The large badger trundles along the narrow valley floor paralleling the winding black Two-Legs trail, following his nose. Since the bright fire in the sky his instincts have kept him moving along the isolated valley, avoiding the larger Two-Legs hives. But game has become scarce and Turk’s belly gnaws with hunger. As the valley widens, Turk catches the scent of a Two-Legs hive nestled on the shores of a lake. He almost turns aside but there is the delicious smell of rotten meat coming from their wood and stone caves and his hunger drives him to investigate… He passes a flat wooden plank on a metal stick. It is so bent that the plank nearly touches the ground. It smells of Two-Legs manufacture and is carved with the curlicue scrawl that they seem to put on every flat piece of wood or metal. Though he doesn’t know or even care about their Language-Scrawl… if he did then Turk would know the battered sign says:
Population: 616
Flik scampers along the nearly denuded branch of the poplar tree that stands in a line with others along the ‘road’ into the ‘town’. As a cityfied squirrel, Flik knows some things about the Two-Legs and their ways. He leaps from the thinning branches of one poplar to the more scrawny branches of another. The branch whips like a wire but doesn’t break. Clamping his teeth firmly around his odd prize, Flik spares a glance down at his pursuer… While Flik is a brave squirrel, he knows that squirrels don’t often tangle with raccoons. And this raccoon is strange. It is nearly all white and has been doggedly chasing him for a googatrillion trees, if not half that many! Flik doesn’t dare slow down. While he’s a better climber than any raccoon, poplar trees are an easy climb for anything with claws. And the raccoon has a long set of those. Flik races maniacally across the branches, heading for the tree on the far side. The meager plan in his small brain is to get to the town and hop onto something that only a squirrel could climb. That’ll show that raccoon! Flik almost stops short. The branch on the next tree is FAR away and down several body lengths. He estimates the leap will take several stabilizing tail rotations to stick the landing. But there is nothing else he can do unless he wants to share this tree with his strange pursuer. He backs up and takes a running leap, his tail windmilling wildly.
Heist is simultaneously repulsed by and attracted to the freaky looking squirrel with the mangled ear. Normally, he’d have nothing to do with the creepy big-eyed rodent. If the squirrel would slow down enough so Heist could get a better look at what it is carrying, he’d be happy to leave it alone. But he can’t ignore what his nose told him. When Heist saw the rust-color little bugger emerge from beneath the eaves of some Two-Leg dwelling, he was happy to head in the other direction but he caught a whiff of something intriguing… something potentially explosive. It called to him. Heist continues his reluctant chase of the squirrel, hoping it runs out of trees before he runs out of patience. Then, the squirrel pauses at a big jump. It turns its head for a moment, giving Heist a split second to examine the cylindrical and stick-like object in its mouth…
Prophet has achieved a new level of clarity due to his non-voluntary, lengthy fast in the pet-store/religious retreat. Oh, some would say that the automatic food dispenser in his cage running out of power was just bad luck or a death sentence. But Prophet recognizes the hand of God when he sees it. Unfortunately, several of his fellow ‘hermits’ weren’t blessed with the requisite faith to see themselves through the trial. The skunk in the next cage with the poor attitude and perpetual stink now reeks from decay… but at least he has stopped whining. The wallaby, armed with his holy scripture and sacred spigot debates whether he should leave his ‘meditation cubical’ or perhaps try to attain yet another level of clarity. Looking at his deceased and desiccated neighbors, Prophet decides that perhaps clarity should be experienced in moderation. He stares past the cages and out the window, wondering what providence may provide. After a few hours of waiting on the absent providence, Prophet tries to open the cage door himself. He is slightly surprised that God hasn’t opened the door since he is ready to leave his cubicle. Prophet considers this and reaches through the bars, trying to finagle the lock open since God is clearly busy elsewhere.
The raven’s shiny black eyes regard the open field from the safety of a nearby tree. He cocks his head to one side, to better examine the figures in the field. Seven sparrows… 5 male, 2 females… 26 body lengths from the treeline… hmmmm Poe’s ruff rises and he lets out three strident caws, hoping the small birds respond. They don’t. They were alive only yesterday. He had flown after them curiously… and saw them drop out of the open sky into the field - dead. Something had struck them down as it had many other birds in the area. Was it an invisible predator? Some Two-Legs trap? It got Poe thinking and carefully surveying the whole valley. This was one of seven areas where he’d spied the twisted forms of birds - 46 - in total. They had all been dropped on the wing, or so it appeared. He didn’t get more than a mile or two in any direction before he found a field just like this one. Trapped. Poe unconsciously makes a muted and dissatisfied chirp-growl in his throat then hops through the branches until he’s on the side of the tree away from the field of death. With a deft flap of his heavy wings he launches off towards the Two-Legs Rookery, staying below the tree tops… just in case there was some invisible hunter in the sky.
Geez, Gary! Take an evening off would ya?!?! :) Sadly the game thread for 'Roadkill' is also having a 0 Post meltdown.
This one is also stuck at 0 posts. It is a new OOC thread called Roadkill. |
