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Brother Attero cursed his gauntlets. As much as they allow him to dominate in GLORIOUS COMBAT they were not as useful in sneaking away as he would wish. "Okay, I think we could plan to--," is all he got out before the speedy pilot blitzed into the room. "Well I kinda wanted to do the same thing," he mumbles, admiring her initiative. After waiting an appropriate amount of time for her to gather all the attention of anyone in there, he hurls himself into the room, ready to crush something. Anything. Everything.
I think atm you're all together at the grate, about to move down the corridor to find the safe where your stuff is kept. Unless someone is going off on their own? Concur. I think you said we're all together and moving along, singing our song.
We shall know no fear. While the enemies of the Emperor still draw breath there can be no peace. Educate men without faith and you but make clever devils.
Phew! Okay, lost a day to football (soccer)No no, you had it right the first time - it's just "football" ;) If you use your hands and call someone a 'linebacker', then it's football. If there's a lot of kicking and you have to score all the points one at a time, that's soccer. ^_^ So, about these Flashbacks. Can we do those at any time for any thing?
I'm starting to lose the narrative. I might be a bad fit for this game. It seems there's a lot of players just saying what their complication is, rather than waiting for the GM to pitch one. Is this normal? Will we be expected to do this going forward? I don't think we did this in the one other game of FitD that I played and my fear is that I will always be either too soft or hard on the consequences I give to myself. Also, yes, the AKA's are getting me lost. Who is Lux? I thought Zen's AKA was Hex? Why use a character if you're not going to use their name? And if you want a nickname, just put it in the title. Same thing for wanting to use part of the name but not a different part. I am absolutely going to forget that at some point. It seems like the party is sticking together. And Zen is ambushing people. Except I can't stealth. So must not be with the party. So I don't know where I am or what to do.
I wasn't clear on what the numbers meant either, but I'm against hard science simply because of the debate that would follow on if that would really work. Imma all for some technobabble ending with "because neutrinos."
In order of preference: 1) Rescue Carl
I'm mostly in favor of getting Carl because lotsa cred is good, and it plays to my vices, and so that he won't eat our hands.
Attero sat peaceably in the cell, the model prisoner. He checked his gauntlets for the umpteenth time that hour. They had power, and were still interfacing with his ASN-7N wired reflexes well enough, but they kept making that odd grinding sound. If he ever turned them on, it might get a touch worse. If only he had a spanner he could fix them, but that's not gonna happen. "For all the things they could have gotten me on," he opines morosely his fellow inmates, "they didn't have to make something up. Which is why I think this has nothing to do with what we're here for, and everything to do with what we're -not- here for. We can't stay here," he states matter-of-factly.
"Victory is commended; Defeat, merely remembered." Before we get neck deep into Tiko Lux, are we sure we don't want a 5th? Sarah B has shown solid interest (changed her mind, one of her games died) and wants to be a pilot. FYI. Easier: The guards couldn't easily remove Attero's gauntlets, so they just let him keep them. They don't know that they're really WHM-6R Warhammer model powered fists. Harder: Once the Warhammers are activated, they give off a loud humming sound. Although quiet compared to the din of battle, they'll be a constant beacon to any guards looking for them, and make stealth all but impossible.
"You know what fascinates me, Attero?" the Officer, Emerald Dancing Wind, asked the heavy in hushed whisper. "What is that, Emerald?" the Heavy asked back. The two of them were crouched behind a row of hedges, where the beach ended and the scrub growth began. There wasn't as much cover to their left, but two Stag privates had managed to conceal themselves. On their right Cliff rode herd on the other brace of rookies. The full dark of the night made the nearby river look like a sloshing trickle of black oil. They needn't be as quiet as they were. The enemy was still on the far side of the river. The still-smoking remains of the bridge were near enough to give the air a slightly charred smell, but not so close as be a factor, either for or against them. "One man." The Officer stopped, and, as no further explanation was forthcoming, Attero was forced to pursue the lark. "Just one? What's the lucky guy's name?" he said, by way of a joke. He liked the big officer, and it was good to have someone tough enough to joke with. "No, not like that," he said, deadpan. Serious. He was philosophizing. "I mean, see those greyskins over there?" Attero nodded in the darkness. "Say they come over here. We fight. Much sound and fury. And then...what? If we all die, but so much as -one- man of theirs is left standing...they win. They own the field. The army comes over and kills everyone. Or, if we fight, and one of ours is left standing? -WE- own the field. We...he...she...us...burn their boats. Stop the landing. Our army lives. Longer. Today. Probably." Attero continued nodding. What he said _was_ factual. It made sense. But fascinating? He tried not to bother with such things. Philosophy was a cousin of hope. And hope...was the first step on the road to disappointment. "They're coming," Emerald said. It was five boats. That could be seen clearly enough in the wan starlight. Three men to a boat. That meant they only outnumbered them three to one. It hardly seemed fair. Attero and Emerald and Cliff and the Silver Stags waited as soldiers have waited since there was time to wait and soldiers to do it. The boats came closer, in the eerie quiet that undead and their cowed servants do. The undead screamed in battle, sometimes, but Attero hated their grim quiet even more. And then the waiting was done. The boat in the middle was within range, and that meant the hall was rented, the band was struck and...it was time to see if he could dance. One lumpy object soared through the air and landed with a thump in the boat. A few heads swiveled to look at it with curiosity. Then the boat exploded. Attero chuckled as his tossed explosive charge turned the rivercraft into firewood. The three occupants--two undead harrowers and an Oak Knight, not that he would ever know that--were killed instantly, and sank into the inky water without a sound. As was their way. That was the Officer's cue. "Fire!" Emerald shouted, raising his own gun. Six guns crackled in the night air and four more forms tumbled out of their dry spot and into the cool water. "Look alive on the left!" Emerald shouted at the two lone privates. Either they were aiming at the wrong side or they had both missed. An ill omen. Then they heard it. The undead scream. They leaped from their boats and charged ahead where muzzle blasts had revealed the soft, squishy humans. Without time to reload, the rookies swung their muskets like clubs as the unliving swarmed about them. Emerald shot then stabbed an Oak Knight in front of him, but another took his place. Attero crushed one skeletal skull before having to defend against another Knight to his fore. "AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" came a cry. On the Left. Of course. Two humans corpses hit the ground, their blood flowing freely into the thirsty sand. "Only cure for being stupid," Emerald breathed, but there was real concern in his voice. With the Left flank collapsed, it might very well be one greyskin that stands victorious over this battlefield. Hoping his faith in the Heavy was justified, he parried an attack and ran headlong toward the human death cries. Two undead stood over two swiftly cooling corpses, and the Officer took advantage of their momentary distraction to decapitate one. Then the other stabbed him. The skellie's broadsword scraped against his heavy breastplate, and he gave thanks that he took the heavier load. With the enemy committed to the missed disembowelment, he brought his own sword up and ran it through. Attero wasn't surprised when the Officer took off, leaving him facing two foes. Someone had to reinforce that flank. It's what he would have done. "Blessed is the mind too small for doubt!" Attero yelled, crashing Krieg against the chest of a Knight. The Knight had good armor, and a lesser hammer would not have smashed his chest so. Fortunately Krieg was no lesser hammer. And that's when the other knight stabbed him. Just as before, the enemy blade carved out a long, deep gouge in the fine plate armor, but left anything vital untouched. "The wise man learns from the deaths of others," Attero intoned as he killed the offending Knight. "Well done, I'll check on the others," Dancing breathed as he ran to the Right. He was too late, but in the good way. Three greyskins laid dead--again--in the grass, and three privates were alive and bruised, but happy. Emerald returned their smiles and returned to the Center. "Attero, if you would be so kind, you are ordered to set all boats on fire, and then all of us are ordered to drink heavily!" Attero grinned. This was an officer he didn't mind following.
So, you're comparing me to Jesus? Ha! Alright I'll take it I'll take it. :) And the d!ck measuring is all done now so I wouldn't worry about it. (I mean, it was like comparing a common house candle to a Tomahawk cruise missile, but we don't need to get into any details. ;) Um, there is a gameplay question for the Loremaster? Would you like to write up how our valiant troops wrought great slaughter at the bridge, or would you like me to?
Yep, I just got this message from him, which I choose to share:
I've found that there's a certain kind of person that claims to use fact and reason, while not actually using any, but does use lots and lots of insults.
this is not the first time that Atlas has annoyed me, though this is the most significant time. I am conflict averse, and try very hard to not be passive aggressive I had written a rather long post responding to this, but, upon reflection, I'll not. It's not worth it. If your love for an "obsession" can be undone by a single sentence that you can't be bothered to counter with fact and reason, then you're not mad because you're right. But because you're wrong.
the game is the enemy, the players are trying to beat it, and the GM is not a hostile. The fact that BoB is using the same ruleset as BitD distracts from the fact that it's a very, very different kind of game. The closest thing I can think of offhand is a cooperative board game like Pandemic (or better yet, Pandemic Legacy) (or maybe Arkham Horror) where the players are scrambling to finish a set of difficult tasks before the clock runs out, and the deck keeps throwing problems at them. With that having been said, do you want to run a character?
Aterro "so sorry, but for numbers reasons it's better that you failed in this mission than met with GLORIUOUS TRIUNPH" Atter stares balefully at the speaker of these words, so foreign to his ears, so grating to honor and duty and the sense of everything that he is. "Prayer cleanses the soul, but pain cleanses the body. ... It appears you need to be cleansed."
I agree with Karina 100% and I will absolutely need to be shown the rule that says this. No offense, dude, but I'm starting to think that some of your interpretations might not be RAI. (The fact that there's isn't a rule saying that someone else doesn't get to play your character is irrelevant. Seeing as how an RPG that thrusts all the characters into a collective commune is so incredibly divergent from common practices that any game that did that would definitely say that in black and white. There also isn't any rule that says I don't fly, but that doesn't mean that will happen. IMHO. YMMV.)
It seems like Kaviya and I were both looking at the Bartans. (I would playa Panyar, but they have the -weirdest- names.) Raghav Pakshi:
(Male, Bartan) Pious, Stoic. Jack of All Trades Insight: 1 0/6 XP
Prowess: 4 0/6 XP
Resolve: 2 0/6 XP
I guess one of us should pick the Cooking Kit, eh? Also, I assume we're all taking a medium load, since we get demerits for taking a heavy load, yeah? For my two utility load, I'm tempted to just take two loads of Black Shot. =3 Also also, no, Attero is not wounded.
I had thought it a good compromise. Since this is PbP where more usually means slower, for the price of only have 4 PCs in a system that quite certainly says it will need 5 specialists, we could have the advantage of swapping characters out, taking who we thought might be better on a particular mission. That way the PC's get a boon--the ability to pick a weapon of choice--and the GM doesn't have to mess with 5 characters. If that isn't the case--that we have to make do with only 1 character until it dies--which makes our 2nd PC not so much a secondary character as just a replacement--then we really should let Dean C get going on making a 5th specialist for him to play, since the system calls for that.
(there was a point where I basically only played male PCs) So many questions.... 1) Baseline question: Do you believe romance between two characters can ever be handled in such a way to enhance gameplay fulfillment, or are you of the belief that such a topic is either always detrimental to the role playing, or that such is always an ulterior RL tactic? 2) Have you ever had a female character hit on your male character? If so, how did it go? If not, can you imagine a scenario where that would be more productive?
I have found that PbP is the greatest, most "pure" role-play experience there is. The people on here only know anyone by their role play work-product, so there is motivation to make that the best you can. So to, isolated from almost -all- RL issues, one can step back and only experience life through the character's eyes. I mean, there are limits, of course. If you know some user as a weaksauce role-player, there's no way you would let yourself open up to them to try and get a deeper experience. It just wouldn't work. But for someone who has the talent for such a thing? It can really help develop the head-space a particular character occupies. IMHO. YMMV.
It looks like the support is for Recon. Now, you said we could use our alternate Specialists if it was called for, yeah? It seems like a Sniper would be better for this than a Heavy.
Um, if I could interject my n00b opinion.... I think the "squad refuses to go into the field" is one of the easier ones to field from that list. I'm imagining that they would...say they don't wanna do the thing, and then um, Attero...is Attero, and then everything would be unicorn giggles and puppy hugs. If instead we had "A fight breaks out over one Legionnaire stealing from another" I can see that turning into a quagmire...and not the good kind. It could be a lot of hard work, little information, and becoming like a Gordian Knot, or that thing about splitting the baby, and the GM easily saying "despite your efforts, half the team thinks it was the wrong call." But worst of all, IMHO, would be "After an undead attack the Legion must break camp and relocate." Then we have an attack AND we need to move, probably before we want to.
Imma concur with this. For people to go on a mission and not get any advancement of any kind ever would seriously rock my suspension of disbelief.
Continuing to dig in here. It looks like we don't have anyone in the Spymaster campaign role, so I would gladly fill that unless it is taken and I've just missed it.Welcome Tareth. Right now, one of us is playing the Lorekeeper, and a campaign can have either Lorekeeper or Spymaster. Right now, the one command officer position available is Commander. It actually tends to involve a bit less work than the other positions, and the rest of us can definitely help spell out the likely consequences of various decisions, and help with the role in general-- in fact, the game specifically encourages everyone to pipe up with the recommendations, Oooo. Seeing as how Tareth would be much much better at doing Marshall than me, I'll roll into Commander so we can be regaled with a plethora of high quality squaddies.
Thank you. Mind you, if stats are a 6-clock, I'm still confused on how Doyen increased a stat with 5?
Adding in 3 for threat and 1 for surviving, and I get 6 XP. I am going to put 5 in prowess to increase Shoot to 3 and bank the last XP in the ability clock. Can you please tell me where it says how we spend XP? I'm not getting any of this. It keeps talking about XP clocks, but I don't know how much what costs to advance what to where.
See pages 101-102. Once rookies have earned an SA -- any SA -- they are no longer a Rookie and are now a Soldier. Soldiers can keep gaining XP -- adding dots, more special abilities, and so forth. Soldiers can choose to become Specialists, but don't have to (and in fact, a non-Specialist Soldier can be quite effective). I knew this question would be more complicated than I thought. I mean, look at the Rookie Special Ability of "Home Cooking". How could any rookie possibly ever get that if they are only allowed to promote to a Soldier as soon as they can advance?
questions. 1) on recruit advances, how do they get multiple special abilities if the first one they have to pick promotes them to soldier? 2) Do all the grinning ravens get 6xp? are they all soldiers now? 3) is there a purpose to the sniper having two pistols? is there any benefit over having one? do you get extra potency for using two fine weapons? 4) as Marshall am I suppose to name and stat out each squad?
EVERYBODY GETS 1 EP. -- Your playbook-specific xp trigger. For example, the Heavy’s is “if you helped your squad through might or fortitude.” To “help,” your character should attempt to overcome a tough obstacle or danger. It doesn’t matter if the action is successful or not. You get xp either way. YOU DECIDE IF YOU GET 1 XP. Through GLORIOUS COMBAT and fortitude, I did indeed overcome many obstacles. -- You used a heritage trait. YOU DECIDE IF YOU GET 1 XP. I did indeed portray my Stoic manner. -- Per threat of the highest threat opponent. For example, if the highest threat of opponent you faced was threat 3, then you gain 3 xp. EVERYBODY WHO FACED EATER GETS 3 XP. I overcame both the Oak Knights and had a hand defeating Eater.
Are we able to change our character's Special Ability? The one I chose is butt and, knowing what I know now, a different one would be good. And, yeah, I'm sensing the 'you get a little bit hurt until you die' thing. With that in mind: We're gonna have Leon use his two Tonics on Dorian at the end of this mission, yeah? That power seems like the Medic's big whammy. It seems like everyone should take some armor with them, even using their 2 utility load points. It's like free Harm. Since Stress seems to come up a lot, I can see the QM being under pressure to use that one action that cures 3 stress a lot.
Attero, noting that all his armor has made the ultimate sacrifice to protect him from the enemy's harm, discards his ruined panoply and takes out his extra shield. Once again armored, he shakes his head at the medic's ministrations. "My hearty nature has saved me from needing thy art. Spend thy time on others made of...less stern stuff. I tried to get Doyen back, but the man obviously has some zeal for saving the civilian. Zeal can be its own excuse, so I suggest we establish a secure position here for him to come back to."
Reliquary: Spend to reduce corruption taken by 1 and +1d to resist it. Three uses. Fine: Reduces corruption taken by 2.
"Doyen. You can't help him. At least let him die with honor." Attero says this without emotion. It is simply good advice.Ah, we're going with links to metal videos... hmm hmm. Okay. Dude, bro. Bro, dude.
"Doyen. You can't help him. At least let him die with honor." Attero says this without emotion. It is simply good advice. Unable to see how dying himself could help anything, he makes his own way off the far side of the bridge. The Oak Knights can chase him and die trying. That would be amusing.
*Before* When the orders came down. When the team and mission were chosen, Attero sought solitude. The time for action would come, but for now, he knelt in the dirt, in the dark. It was what she wanted. He gathered up a handful of mud and added a splash of water. This he worked into mud. A stone, chosen well, he put in the mud, and unto the stone a drop of blood. No great arterial gush was needed, just a prick with a sharp dagger. The mud encased the stone, and he held it firm in one meaty fist, crushing it to packed hardness. Holding the odd ball in one hand, and Krieg in the other, he made his Oath. "I promise to lead the men into the zone of war, and conduct them to glory, no matter the ferocity or ingenuity of the foe. On this matter, and by this weapon, I swear." Thinking upon it, he made another ball. Normally one would do, but this was no longer normal. "I swear to crush the enemy, the mutants, and their servants, despite all they might throw at me. I pledge to do honor to the Legion and to the chosen." Both went into a cargo pocket. These were Oaths of Moment, and they were represented by the rock. The mud around it was himself. Such a talsiman, such a reliquary, would tell him that even though he, a fragile, flawed human, might crumble, the Oath, the rock, would ever hold firm, and could not be broken. ********************* *now* "More weight then applaud as I exit this is the happiest day of my life codeine bourbon this is no time to make enemies last words are for fools who haven't said enough it was a good idea at the time." The beast's words echoed in his ears even as its death throes tossed the last of its precious yet foul juices upon him. He could smell the corruption therein, and feel its icy talons clutching at his soul. 'I pledge to do honor to the Legion.' The Oath he had recently taken rang in his head, and he knew his will was proof against this pollution.
I've been thinking about this. Like, Eater isn't just a quiet sorcerer standing in passive meditation trying to squish somebody's sub-conscious. He's a ripping, tearing, fear-eating body-eating machine. So it's not something subtle and passive like Crown of Madness. It's a wave of Tangible insane -SOUND-. That's why he makes you resist with Prowess and not Resolve, because of how corporeal the destruction is. So, while the wave of crazy-sound floods after you, it seems like a shield, a fine shield, would be useful in acting as a barrier to slow down the wave, and, while it still gets to you, at least it's not an unadulterated stream. I even have an example of this. Who got attacked by sound and used a shield to help out?
Attero halted his progress and brought his hands to his head. The crazy images along with the equally insane gibbering was like a sledgehammer ramming repeatedly on his skull. Nothing made sense. How long had he been here? A minute? An hour? A day? Forever? "The fluidity of economics are that all gross irregularities are due to overactive restores happiness and gives the smackdown to sweating continually evolving, helping to resell dedicated I will not stand for Raining Cats and Dogs" He was lost. He felt like he'd been leaning over to the left for a very long time, and leaning to the left was all that was important anymore. Did any words ever have meaning? 'They shall be my finest warriors, these men who give of themselves to me. Like clay I shall mold them, and in the furnace of war forge them.' The words came back to him. Like bubbles struggling up through a pool of tar, the words returned to him and tried to give him Meaning. "My supporters know that I will protect fuses delightful rose essences and a hallucinogenic tobacco will constantly strive to research today’s market-driven Pilaf atop Stuffed Tortilla Drippings." And then it was lost. Lost lost lost to the swirling vortex of life without meaning. Does meaning itself have no meaning? Does purpose itself lack a purpose? To what end can the end be justified? 'They will be of iron will and steely muscle. In great armour shall I clad them and with the mightiest weapons will they be armed.' He felt his hands. They still held a shield, maybe. And Krieg. It was still there. He had not fallen off the planet. And that was something. "In the financial marketplace Ephratah did prepareth bushels of curvy swords palling around with overseas manufacturers, Washington elitists and overpaid Pie essences and a 150-proof cheese essence in their Dixkowski he’d better shoot the football doth foul ruin wash away thy kin’s agnosticism of clairvoyance." What was something? Was it important? Was anything ever important? Perhaps to become important something must first be unimportant. Yes. That was it. He must first walk. And then fall off this bridge. 'They will have tactics and strategies so that no foe can best them in battle. They are my bulwark against the Terror.' Bridge! He was on a bridge! And that bridge had to be destroyed. It all was coming back to him. 'They are the Defenders of Humanity. They are my Heavies and they--' he shouts, coming full out of his revelry. The foul Xeno's blast had ripped the shield from his hands but he gripped Krieg in both hands and descended on Eater like a blow from the Nine-Layered Heavens.
Attero spared a quick look behind him. Quite suddenly, without a word, the squad that had been holding his flanks took off. Did Alisa even give him one last glance before she left? He squashed a feeling of chagrin.
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