Impulse Brightstone's page

For a long moment, Impulse is shellshocked. They knew this moment was coming, this question would be asked and they swear they had a real prepared answer up until just about ten seconds ago when it the sounds of each word were spoke onto the wind as it birthed itself into reality.

They swallow, nervously. Never been one for speaking in front of people, and especially not with dozens of eyes on them at once. Not to mention the mind itself is hazier than usual, and likely visibly so to anyone who can notice the slight sway of their step.

"Impulse. Architect of Falcon House," they sputter out curtly, before taking in a deep breath and staring down at the ground to steady themself.

"Well, I'll stuck around this long. What's another turn of the seasons, after all? I just hope this coming spring I learn more weird things out here than I did the last."

They hold up their axe off their back in a motion of a slightly buzzed salute. "I'm here in all the Broken Tusks' service!"

And with a rousing look up attentively, they almost smile, even if a bit nervously before putting the axe back on their back and stepping back from the spotlight as quickly as possible.

"...And maybe I'd like to fit in around here for once. That might take more than just one spring, but... I'd like to see it happen."

Impulse nods, "Right. I don't really follow a lot of big cultural traditions, but I know that not having this festival would crush the spirits of the following, and we can't these Burning cousins of ours crush the Broken Tusk spirits... again."

They stand up, toss some dirt onto the fire, stopping its smolder and pick up their bag. "I'll get us all packed up. I can put together some extra self collapsing materials and quick closing bags that will also make it easier for us to get out of there the morning after the festival."

They step out and wander off to the nearby pop up tents and fires no longer occupied by families as the morning meals begin winding down and start breaking down structures, and bundling up their supplies for the move.

Crafting: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Crafting: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

Crafting: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Crafting: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

The morning is slow going, they find themself too distracted by the talk with Grandfather Eiwa to really be able to focus on the work, and it doesn't help that too much space is still being used, people cleaning and drying the last of their clothing and finishing up the last of their meals take up too much of the space to really effectively clear out. But as the day progresses and more people begin to give up on last minute preparation and scatter, the piles of tools and supplies finally go undisturbed long enough for the sizes of each to increase. And so Impulse wraps up bundles and bindles and sacks for the people and the mammoths to carry along.

Then, remembering their paranoia about the safety of the rest of the following in the now very present possibility of an attack, they decide to tend to the root spirits. While it is to their dismay to have to lower the strength of alcohol when they already have a significantly higher tolerance than most of the Broken Tusks, the sacrifice is worth breathing a little more reaction time and awareness into the following in the wake of a possible attack or wildfire.

Thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

Thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14

Thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

The mixing is easy enough, though they will never admit to the others that part of the process of reducing the liquid done was sneaking sips of it themself between some of the dilutions to get rid of the excess liquid without tossing it to waste in patches on the ground. Never good to waste a drink someone put the time and effort into fermenting. And given the gathering soon being both chaotic and potentially dangerous, Impulse could use a little bit of something to calm the nerves anyway.

"That explains how none of the rest of you had ever heard of them... I can imagine why you'd want to make sure most members of the following didn't have to learn of their existence for all this time. But I guess bad blood always comes back to haunt us, doesn't it?"

Impulse sighs, pulls off their thickly lined leather gloves and puts their hands dangerously close to fire, their face deep in thought as they stare deeply into the now fading flames.

"Well, I guess that means we better be on the look out for trouble tonight. We've already had a couple of encounters with these old cousins of ours." For a moment they pause, mid thought, as if their own phrasing to include themself in this shared history confuses them. But the shake away the thought and continue. "...We've already had a couple of encounters with these Burning Mammoths. If they're showing up now, I'm not about to let my guard down and assume they're not up to something. Especially if they're the ones causing those fires out there."

They pick up their heavily customized axe, finally scanning it over and place it over the firelight, light glinting off it as they check it for any kinds of nicks or blemishes. They slowly pick at small caked on piece of mud, still stuck on after their day scouting at the river.

"Well... maybe it's not my place to butt in about taking down the ancestors from the old country or whatever. But you know me, I've never been good at parties, and I'd sooner take out some troublesome fire starters than let any of these folk here get harmed on an evening of celebration."

Impulse sits alongside the small wooden bowl that once contained a filling portion of pit roasted porcupine and root vegetables but now lies empty by firelight.

They've always had a propensity for staying up around the fire past when most other members of the following do, and this evening is no different as they find themselves putting together smaller test designs of weaponry and other obviously dangerous devices. Their general about the Green Moon festival they manage to suppress back by keeping their technical mind occupied for the moment.

"Just as long as Pakano doesn't try to pull some shit at the festival again this year..." They mutter to themself.

Impulse doesn't respond. At least, not immediately anyway, though their response is implicit as they're immediately distracted, stepping over to the massive porcupine's body and forcefully pulling out several quills carefully enough not to snap them in the process.

"Hmmm, the hollowness makes them a bit light for typical javelin needs, we'll have to make sure they're stuff so they get some proper weight and don't snap immediately upon hitting something. But I've never seen a porcupine with quills long enough to turn into a thrown projectile. I never even considered the possibility of weaponry from such material, I wonder kind of other implements could make specific use of how lightweight and hollow these are. Might benefit a set of spiked gauntlets, or a very fine set of shield spikes from some of the smaller ones. I'll have to consider this further..."

They stand there thinking over the beast's body for a long moment, quills still embedded into their arms and torso in several places, but whatever pain they must still be feeling, seems to have been forgotten for the moment, anyway.

"Oh good I was just thinking how those spines could be really useful for Wipa's snares. And here I was thinking how I'd be able to harvest all those from another buddy animal but this is much easier!"

Impulse steps out into the clearing and rushes over to immediately back up Kala's show of force. Though realizing it's spikey nature, decides it best to try and subdue the creature with as little contact as possible, they turn the spinning dial on the axe and unleash a jet of excess battery energy into its skin.

Explode DC 17: 2d6 ⇒ (1, 3) = 4
Unstable Flat check vs DC 17: 1d20 ⇒ 15

They shake the device briefly before grumbling slightly at the creature. "I swear I must have this polarity shifter not nearly efficient enough because it still feel like its taking more energy to do it than it dishes out..."

Medicine: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (7) + 0 = 7
Lol, didn't think so but worth a shot.

"I guess these would be those "Burning Mammoths" I was remembering. At least, I assume so, anyway. This kind of bright red burn scar would certainly fit a following called that. But... why are they down here, instead of off in the mountains. This just keeps getting stranger and stranger..."

Impulse sighs, picks up the feather token and collects the spears from the two attackers to take back to the following. The last ones were well-crafted, at least. It wouldn't hurt to have some extras on hand for the younger warriors still in training.

"Well... let's keep the tapirs close, I'll guard the rear and you two stay up front and keep them close to you, since they listen to you better. No point in sticking around, we need to get these ones back before someone else comes checking up for a bite to eat."

Impulse steps into place on the other side of the blue tinted spear wielder. "Get away from them you slippery little suckers!"

Empowered by the perfect efficiency of their axe's mechanisms for the first time since its creation, they opt to just tear into this new challenger with it.

+1 Innovation axe vs FF Blue: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
Slashing Damage, Crit OD: 1d12 + 3 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 + 3 = 16

Their axe comes down, cutting directly through the spear wielder's neck and sound of their neck bones cracking echoes throughout the clearing, as Blue immediately slumps over onto the ground.

A hiss of hydraulic energy emphasizes their motion as they turn and lock eyes at the other one. "This is not your hunting ground."

They turn tail towards Red into the trees, cutting through the branches to get up within reach of the other.

"Hey! Any animal that I both to help out doesn't get to be immediately eaten by someone else." Impulse glares at the two scarred humans across the glade and grips their axe with a greater vengeance, moving to slide up the lever on their axe and kickstart its generator.

Overdrive vs DC 15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
Oh damn! Critical Overdrive let's goooo!

The device spurts but then quickly hums with a satisfying whir as the fuel hits the axe's internal gears and the weight of the weapon realigns perfectly in Impulse's finger tips.

They turn to rush forward, newly invigorated by this but Kala's words manage to flash in their mind.

"Fine, I'll hold back just a moment..."

Their eyes noticeably roll but they run forward, stop short and duck into the trees for just a moment.

Overdrive, Stride, Take cover for +2 to AC for this round.

Impulse gets a weird look on their face as they try to calculate through the information about these spines.

"I wonder... we hadn't planned to put any snares around here since we were looking to tame a bunch of these things. And... the spikes came from the mountains east of here. Do you think someone from way up there brought these traps down? But... that seems like a hell of a way to go. And for what, tapirs? Do they make for that much of a fine meat that someone would come all the way down from the mountains for them? Ugh now I'm just more confused!"

They frustratedly kick a fallen branch and it flies across the clearing, shattering in two as it collides with a large tree.

Impulse steps back from the others and turns around, weapons at the ready. They briefly consider also finding an excuse to wander off. Animal caretaking has never really been a strength of theirs. It's never been much of a hole for longing for one, though. Animals inside a workshop were too dangerous and messy even back when they were still doing work in artistic workshops.

They let out an audible sigh. But what kind of community member would they be if they just wandered away and something actually did go wrong as they have the last few days?

They stand around keeping watch, tapping the side of their axe's hefted handle, fiddling with its dials meaninglessly. Though the tapirs' movement behind them bumps the rest of the group into their back as they turn, seeing two long nosed creatures trundling up with a set of spikes in either foot.

"Oh those are nasty, even these sturdy creatures could get one hell of an infection from those. Fine fine, I'll come deal with it."

They put the axe back on its magnetic clip, and step cautiously towards the tapirs. When they don't immediately shirk away Impulse gets on a single knee and pushes their hands forward, cracking each knuckle with a strange quiet pop that sounds more like gears sliding up against each other than the space between joints cracking.

With their narrowed, slightly elongated fingers, they push back on one joint to get nail deeper into the tapirs' skin and pull out the violent splinters.

Thievery: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17

After a few moments, they drop the barbs back in one hand as simultaneously all their joints seem to de-extend and snap back into place. "That should fix it, I think. Though someone might want to patch up the holes some so they don't get any dirt or something in there."

Sadly, to Impulse's more mechanically inclined mind a lot of Imek's more relevant advice does kind of gloss over them running in one ear and out the other. Who knew there would be so much nuance in being an animal whisperer prodigy. Though they're happy to just let the child rattle on as they see fit, they prefer not having to say too much in a given conversation, anyway.

"I'm glad you're going with us, Imek. Beyond hunting, animals have never really been an expertise of mine. And it's good to see the following making space for one of their most promising get to stretch out their training in a less familiar environment."

Impulse shrugs. "Oh that? Sure, let me finish this weave work up and you can watch me transfer those, I guess. I have to warn you though, it's not really the most interesting work out there. It's like a very common baseline requirement to learn but like most of the job is making sure your salt solvent is applied right so you only break the bonds between the item and the runes and don't dissolve the bonds between the lettering itself. Then it's just a matter of tracing down a spot for it on the new piece and turning the magic's resonance back on. It's not a super exciting process just tedious and precise. Takes a lot of time more than anything else."

They finish one side of the woven bracelet piece and finish off the knot, putting the rest away to finish later. Then they take the spear from Kala and look it over again, slowly pulling their invention off their back and up next to it. "You can still keep the spear afterwards if you'd like by the way. Despite my attachments, it is a finely crafted little thing. Well, if you're still wanting to see the process despite all that, take a seat. Firelight isn't really the best medium for picking out details, especially so for most humans like yourself, so you'll have pay really close attention at this hour."

Impulse stands up from the ground, and carefully staggers back over to the hearth, trying not to draw attention to the bruises now forming on their face underneath the lengths of long blue hair.

They accept the small piece of malachite, with probably one of the most genuine smiles you've ever seen portrayed on their face. "Why thank you, Wipa. This is a finer reward than any plaque from the old academy. I'll make sure I take care of it."

Their expression immediately turns pensive, as they sit down and start rummaging through their bag again, pulling out a long ball of linen twine and begins to wrap a lattice of twine around the edge of the stone, seemingly tying it into some small wearable item, sized to be something like a bracelet, held around the arm by a loop and a knot.

While they work through the string project they do address Kala's question. "That seems fine to me. I might need a bit more practice before I can execute any of these snares on the regular, though. So the supplies might sit around in my bag for a while so I don't burn through the real stuff before I fully know what I'm doing."

They look up briefly and pause the string weaving to help split the supplies. "Nice job with that poison trap, by the way. Let me know if you ever want to practice together or something. That way hopefully at least one of us is able to get help if something blows up."

Impulse can't help but breathe a very obvious sigh of relief at Kala's snare building success. Their trust in the young animist is quite strong in most cases but they hold little faith in most members of the following when it comes to cases of fine building work, and (much as they hate to say it) for Kala especially so when it pertains to the dangerously explosive sort.

They look up at Wipa and nod. "Of course. Any creation should have its mettle tested, and I fully agree it'd be good sense to feel the effects of such a thing. After all, I wouldn't know how much I could get out of my own great weapon designs if I didn't get myself hurt a few times."

Impulse very slowly stands up and carries the snare as carefully as possible, making sure not to move it enough to set it off, then very lightly places it on the ground 15 ft away from the others. Their touch on the placement is light and calculated, in a way that is atypical for someone usually so impatient and aggressive.

They turn back to Wipa and take a deep breath, mentally preparing and adjusting all their armor to brace themself against the trap's propulsion. Then, after many more silent seconds, they step forward onto the snare's trigger.

Reflex vs DC 16: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Nonlethal bludgeoning (I want to see if this knocks me instantly unconscious): 2d6 ⇒ (3, 4) = 7
Okay good news I am not unconscious, I just have 4 HP left

Impulse intends to roll out of the way, but their thoughts are still too full trying to analyze the design and think up improvements to its placement that they hesitate, and fail to react to the loud crack of the small branch completely snapping in two. The flattened rock connects directly with the side of their head, smacking against their temple as they stand completely frozen in place for several seconds. They instinctively move their hands up to their head and grunt in pain as their vision spins before them, flooding their visual processors with useless information.

Eventually, they finally breathe again, as their vision stabilizes and the dizziness subsides. Completely winded, Impulse first sits themself down on the ground next to the former snare, then lays down on their back. They spend some time getting the breath back into their lungs.

...Before breaking out in a loud and manic cackle of joy that goes on for close to a minute.

Between laughing and tears they manage to choke out "Incredible! The snare did everything I could have ever asked for!"

You're not sure if the concussion is playing any part in their reaction, but they do seem genuinely thrilled and entertained by the result.

Impulse stares over at the batch of materials, waiting to see if anyone else moves for anything in particular before reaching out towards the most familiar materials, the heavy rock and spring branch. and sits down with them. Their hands casually move in experienced motions that look strangely effortless as their thoughts seem to wander.

"You know, Wipa. This reminds me of the old country. I doubt I've ever mentioned it but back home I was born in a more typical creche for my people, and I had a body like this with longer nimble fingers and a slightly smaller size so I could get into places and do precise repairs or something, I guess. But there really wasn't much around that needed doing, I suspect our society had gotten well past those days. You know, I wanted to learn more artistry, I wanted to really make something impressive and with meaning, so that's how I ended up in that city. And this honestly reminds me of lessons back at the academy. Although, most of that was sculpting, ceramic work and weaving. What I really like was making and working with tools and weapons, and sometimes I wonder if I should have gone into working the Black Sovereign's armory stuff but I guess I was too much of loose cannon to really gain much favor out there. But so far I've liked things simpler out here, anyway. I may not be the most trusted here, either but at least the Broken Tusks understand that tools of destruction, when held properly in check can be just as useful to any given society as just walls and artistry as well."

They put the last pieces of the snare together with a flourish

Let's go snarecrafting!: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10 Okay, no that's embarrassing I am definitely using my single hero point that I have left on that.

Snarecrafting, this time for real: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
[ooc]THERE WE GO

They hold the strange contraption up to Wipa and look towards her with a tiny grin. "I think this looks about right? Thanks for the lesson, Wipa."

Impulse shrugs, and puts their axe back on its magnetic back clip.

"Huh. Guess she got burned. Used to get scars like that on my arms when I made the first couple prototypes of this thing. Star machine propulsion fluids are extremely efficient when it comes to how long they burn but also... incredibly hard to get rid of by any means other than burning. I eventually gave up on that fuel source and went back to the drawing board after it got on clothing far too often and then would ignite on my own skin when I turned the device on."

Their attention quickly changes over from the woman's face to the woman's bulky armor. They stare at the talisman on the woman's hide, studying its means of attachment, before pulling it off her unceremoniously and digging through their own bag for a similar piece of leather to fashion into a small loop to rivet the very same piece on their own piece of armor.

The slight feeling of relief that Impulse feels upon the fey's defeat is immediately cast aside as this second creature speaks from the far end of the river. The exasperation is further compacted in realizing they have to barrel back through the ash filled river, caking their already battered clothing in damp soot.

"If I wasn't sure you were going to go the way of your little friend here, I'd make you help me get a new set of boots. You know leather like this can start to lose its insulating abilities when it soaks in too much moisture, so you'll just have to do as my grounding line here, instead."

And audible hiss goes off from their axe as they swing it down on the strange acid throwing creature.

Innovation Greataxe vs Blue: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Slashing, OD: 1d12 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 3 + 1 = 6

And sure, let's take a second attack, I got nothing better to do this round

Innovation Greataxe vs Blue: 1d20 + 6 - 5 ⇒ (3) + 6 - 5 = 4
Slashing, OD: 1d12 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 3 + 1 = 7
Yeah that's about what I expected.

Impulse rolls their eyes listening to this thing. "There's a fire going and this thing would rather sit here and delay us with pretending to be a spirit. I don't understand what goes through the heads of creatures like this. I should smash it just for wasting our time."

They put their hand back on their axe, step forward and... immediately step back as Eirthgim and Kala Dja try to talk it down. Though as soon as Kala reaches for her blade they almost smirk.

"Sometimes the right answer really is the simple one, isn't it?"

They immediately reach around to their wrists, trying to push down and flip the switch on them to activate the gravity influencing actuators that help their weapons swing with extra power.

Overdrive vs DC 15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

With those turning on with a loud alien whirr, Impulse then makes a rush out of the river around past Kala and Eirthgim to take a violent swing at the back of the creature's neck.

Innovation Greataxe v Red: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Do I dare to use one the cursed points? Here we go.
Innovation Greataxe v Red: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11
Slashing Damage, OD: 1d12 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 3 + 1 = 12

Impulse blinks, not sure if the voice is coming from inside their own mind or not, but quickly turns to see their companions all with equally confused looks.

Impulse stares at the river. "Um... are you another one of these 'nature spirits' I've been told about? Well, we helped out a raven spirit yesterday, I think... is this whole saving spirits thing usually an every day tasks for scouts?"

They dip their hand into the water, draping some of the ashy film onto their gloves and slowly rubbing it between their fingers while taking a long look at it.

"Jeez, I haven't seen a river run this murky since I left Numeria, though I suppose back there there's not much you can do, the strange chemically acidic rivers in the old land are far past any help. But I'd like to see if there's anything I can do for this one here before it gets that far as well."

Impulse flips through and finds a page far back full of different following of the region that they've been told about by various elders and through some early research and stop to point at "Καίγοντας μαμούθ".

"Burning Mammoths... That would certainly... fit this heraldry. But I don't know anything else about them. Though, it does worry me that, looking at this charred hand here the name might be more literal than I was hoping."

For a moment Impulse appears to actually shiver at the thought, before quickly returning to their usual muted show of any kind of expression. Then they stand there in thought for a while before turning back to Kala. "Oh right, the spear. Well I guess we both won it off Pakano but I'm rather... attached to this weapon I carry on my back already. So feel free to keep it if you'd like. I've got no strong need for it, and I think you deserve it more than I, anyway."

They turn back to their notes, deep in thought. "What kind of following could the Burning Mammoths possibly be and what in the world happened to this person who carried this spear."

The strange rush of momentary adrenaline takes a good long moment to subside but eventually Impulse shrugs and picks up the spear at their feet, taking a good long look at its make and design.

"Well I'll certainly give you that you have an eye for good craftsmanship. This is an exquisite ash wood spear with a serrated edge. Someone rune etched it, too."

They pause for a moment then hold it out for the rest of the group to see. "That said though... how in the world did you fail to notice the charred human hand hanging off this thing's leather strap?! Look, it even has wrist bones tumbling off of it like rocks when I move it!"

They slowly and cautiously remove the leather strap from it, holding it in one hand and letting the charred appendage hang just above the muddy marsh ground. The turn the spear in their other hand, giving everyone a clear view of the hide banner emblazoned with the silhouette of a wooly mammoth over the backdrop of flames. "Also, does this iconography mean anything to any of you? It's likely a clue to whoever this originally belonged to... And if I had to bet, whoever they were they're not in especially good shape right now."

They hand the spear to Kala for a moment to pull out their notes as well, and see if this image falls within their collected knowledge of the Realms.

Society: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

"Honestly I'm not sure I'm going to be much of a follow up to that absolutely brutal destruction. And they call me explosive..."

"I'd hold off on inviting him back into the fold before we see how much embarrassment he can handle. Honestly, Pakano I do not give a rat's ass whether or not you take that spear. But what I do care about it how you've just been an absolute piece of shit this entire time since we all started out as scouts. So you want a fight, Pakano, then you got one. Just remember when this is over that this was your idea, not mine."

And before Pakano is even able to dust himself off, Impulse grabs his other arm and yanks it twisting behind the young Kellid's back. "I will make you regret dangling your undeserved title inheritance in front of us. Show some respect to Grandfather Eiwa and act in a way he'd be actually proud of for once!"

Athletics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

They reach around, with their other hand, grappling Pakano around the front of his shin, slowly pulling up and lifting the taller Pakano cleanly off the ground, not faltering for a moment while the youth tries to struggle and wriggle free.

Athletics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

"You want to be on top and above the rest of us? Does that make you feel more secure in your position? Above rather than an equal like the rest of us? I'll show you what it's like up there."
Impulse accents this sentence by shifting their weight and lifting Pakano squarely above their own head, with the air nearly buzzing with anger and fear.

Athletics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

"Let me tell you one thing, dear Pakano. I knew a lot of guys like you who thought they were above others and could get away with not doing their jobs right and not doing their part for the rest of their team. Lot of people like that back home who thought they could push the little "Synth" like me around. You want to know what I did to them? Ah... I think it's better I just give you a small demonstration."

Impulse FLARES. It'd be hard to describe it any other way, like a pulse of blinding blue flashing across every one of their circuitry lines at once as they draw in every last burst of their strength to toss Pakano backwards down onto the ground as they bring their weight down falling over him.

Athletics: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

They let off a flash of stray static discharge into the ground as they quickly dig their hands into the muddy ground and push themself up. Their expression remains deeply twisted in frustration and anger, but they don't seem to say anything further.

Impulse squints at the scene before them and ducks down, keeping their head slightly below the reeds. Before Iskra has even spoken they pull the axe off their back, mostly on pure reflex. They don't move up to Iskra's position but keep an eye out for any movement around her.

"Now... who left this spear out here, and why?" The suspicion builds and rumbles in their mind. "Iskra, if you manage to get to it, see if you can bring that back my way. I might be able to glean some information from it."

"That is... assuming no one starts throwing more of them our way, first."

Impulse rolls his eyes at Pakano, but picks up a basket with ease and straps it on.

"I said would be fine, and I am completely fine. Despite what your eyes perceive from me, my body processes alcohol differently. Let's just get going then, hopefully you don't all slow me down."

Impulse trundles ahead but turns back to make sure everyone has properly strapped on their baskets, quickly sighing and stopping to help Pakano properly adjust his basket's straps in such a way as to not injure himself; before leading the way well ahead leaving the conversational folk to their conversations. They spend most of the long walk flipping through notes they have about the area, and about all sorts of other things. Their usual mood seems to have come forward again in the morning workout heading out to do further chores.

Impulse shrugs, they readily take one of the maple-mead mugs and lightly warms it by the fire. Still just early enough in spring for a warmed glass to be that slight bit more rewarding in the partially dimming light of a late afternoon soon to become evening. They look down at Agn, despite glaring at him for nearly making them fall over just a moment ago, the android lightly pours a couple sips worth of the drink onto the very edge of the fire before taking it and beginning to sip at it themself.

"I'll be fine, I know my limits." Which was, as Impulse had learned in this company, surprisingly high compared to most members of the following. They blamed the nanites... pesky little things.

But the cause for celebration is partially in their honor, so they try to enjoy the company as well as the drink this time around. The drink certainly helps some, loosens their stiffness a little bit. "She's right, this will be good practice for the celebration... because I do need to get used to this level of familial-ness."

They make it through celebration without once yelling at someone and storming off for a while, so perhaps you can label it a success.

Trying not to cringe over the previous display of accidentally tripping over the stone itself and clattering their extra side weaponry across the glade, Impulse now more cautiously steps around the object, assessing its design and the base from which it was removed.

They take off their pack, carefully and slowly digging down into the bottom of it to pull out a small set of rope rigging, chisel sets and most importantly, an adhesive substance that once applied is only visible to the trained eye. It was something used quite often in fixing up the broken brick work of an old house for people who couldn't afford to entirely rebuild their entire walls. How long had it been since they used any of these tools? Long enough now, that they have actually started to try and count the time in moons and springs rather than in years. And in all these seasons that have passed they still had so little to show for it. To give back to a group that were willing to take them in, even with their wildly destructive nature. Perhaps this would be the chance to prove that what they really enjoy is creating things with their own two hands, and those things didn't always have to be dangerous things.

They motion, Iskra over and place the adhesive on the on base, then help direct the two of them to perfectly place the heavy crow statue perfectly, then quickly rope it down in place to make sure it stays still for the time to set.

Crafting, Stonemasonry: 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 6 + 1 = 19

"That should do it. We need to give it a few minutes to fully set. If anyone else has any spiritual insight that they need to add to make it work for its intended purposes again, it should be fine as long as you don't need to move it to do so."

As they step back from the tied down stone, a glimpse of a rare happily satisfied smile appears on the android's face as they repack up the rest of their gear.

"Not my finest work, but hopefully it's enough to restore an important relic to its former glory. Even if I still haven't figured out what the significance of all these things are yet..."

Impulse's single awkward step forward is accented by an audible sigh of relief as Eirthgim steps and bring in some words of wisdom to appease the situation. They look up across the glade at the elder trying to mouth a "thank you" as visibly in their direction as possible.

They stay well back, not fully approaching the area but they do turn to look over at Kala with a quizzical look. "Surprising how much faith in me that one can have considering..."

After a long moment, pause they do step up and add. "Yeah I uhhh haven't really worked with statues much and it's been a good few years since I touched mason work but I'll certainly do everything I can to put this back the way it was. I'll even carry it out there if you're worried about the ravens getting you. I uh, like to think I'm pretty sturdy anyway."

Their delivery is visibly awkward as they try to skillfully extract themself from further conversation. They take a few steps closer to the statue half, hoping to grab it and take it back as quickly as possible, before they have to make a fool of themself any further.

Stealth to Skillfully extract myself from further conversation with this thing: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Impulse shrugs, trying to look nonchalant about the whole conversation, but clearly still troubled by the previous engagement. "I suppose we have been loud but it's possible they're far enough away to not have hear the commotion. That plan seems sound enough, I know it doesn't seem like the case but I am able to keep quiet when I need to. I've seen Iskra's stealthy prowess before too. You want us to stay slightly ahead then and see if we can't catch whoever this is unaware?"

They reset their axe back to its usual bladed form and attach it to their back on a magnetic clip, to try and emphasize their agreement towards a stealthier approach. "I should add, stealth will slow us down though, so we'll have to keep on the lookout for if this possible culprit starts rushing forward. We won't be able to keep up if that happens, and I'd rather have to go in loud as a back up plan than risk losing our only lead at all."

They step off from against the massive boulder and slowly approach Pakano, staring at him for an aggressively long moment before turning away and deciding against saying anything. "We already have a plan presented... now isn't the time to go poking the useless one for input, I suppose..."

Impulse shakes their head and sighs. "And yet as always that one gets off so easily. Are we okay, he asks, like some of us weren't having our eyes pecked till they bleed in the heat of it all, and the best this one could do was stay 40 ft away and throw a spear one time while laughing at each of us.

They take a moment to look back at the ground, staring back down at the tracks that lead them to this area. Despite everyone's frantic stomping around, the prints are still visible, leaving a still unsettled feeling in Impulse's stomach, still yet unresolved. "Whatever. Call me rash then. Next time you can all find the traces of someone running off with a precious spiritual artifact and not follow them on your own then. I just want to find this damn thing and get this over with."

However, seeing Eirthgim start tending to Iskra's eyes and covering other bruises, they do lean back against the large boulder and begin tending to their invention's critical failures. They twist the bottom cap of the axe off releasing an audible hiss, giving the steam a full minute to dissipate and release all of its heat, before pulling out the still faintly glowing tube and placing it in a thickly lined leather pocket of the pack. Then, from a second pocket of identical size, they produce a more strongly glowing tube that they slide back into the weapon and replace the cover.

"At least objects can just be fixed. If I try to fix myself or other people it's far more of an uproar every time."

They spend the next few minutes in silence, tending to spring systems and tightening certain moving parts with specialized pliers and other tools. The steady work and concentration having brought them down out of their state of aggression for the time being.

"Ah just leave him be. He's no help anyway even when he does try. He'll just slow us down and get someone hurt."

"Maybe I'll soon have a perfect test subject for this device's stun mode. Once this important cultural artifact is accounted for, anyway."

Impulse steps up, and swings their mace-axe upwards trying very much to prove their words by being more useful than Pakano's spear toss.

Innovation Greataxe (Blunted) vs FF Swarm: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Blugeoning Damage, OD: 1d12 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 3 + 1 = 12

Innovation Greataxe (Blunted) vs FF Swarm #2: 1d20 + 6 - 5 ⇒ (5) + 6 - 5 = 6
Blugeoning Damage, OD: 1d12 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 3 + 1 = 13

They make a grunt of frustration, as their hair starts to rise as if building up a static from their annoyance alone.

Impulse looks over at the young Kala Dja trying to get her bearings together. "You know what they say. Lightning never strikes in the same place twice! By which I mean... I wish I could but it's out of charge, that reverse of polarity took everything out of it, We're lucky it even has enough left to keep itself running."

"That said though I appreciate you insight because, I do still have some tricks left..." For a moment it almost seems like they give a smirk, but it's sudden and fleeting, before their expression glosses over again, focused on their innovation in hand.

Impulse, quickly lowers down the axe from the readied position, places one hand on the very top of it and pulls the capped section up, extending it upward, while the blade itself slides down out of position. From this angle, it becomes clear that the capped top of the terrifying contraption can double as a heavily weighted mace.

Then they rush in and around Iskra to unleash its wrath on the still vicious ravens.

Innovation Greataxe (Mace head adapted): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Bludgeoning Damage, OD: 1d12 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Impulse grits their teeth. "Okay maybe I was wrong. Maybe it doesn't have enough power to even stay on..."

Ref: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Ref: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

After taking several pecks directly to the face, Impulse's patience runs out and they spin a small insulated ring on the grip of their axe, releasing an intense burst of electrical energy, that fires off with a cacophonous CRACK.

Explode!!! Electric Damage, DC 17 basic Reflex: 2d6 ⇒ (1, 1) = 2
Unstable flat check vs DC 17: 1d20 ⇒ 9

"Well... note to self, next time change to a completely fresh μπαταρία before reversing the polarities again." The warning light on the top of the axe's handle starts to flash in the corner of their peripheral vision.

Rather than make a cunning retreat, the frustrated inventor just tries to see if the last sliver of power left can still make the axe sing.

Overdrive vs DC 15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

"Well at least that still works."

Impulse stands staring at the monument, assessing its every feature. "Huh. Something has tampered with the sacred monument. And from the looks of this deliberately, too. What an insult!"

Their hands briefly appear to ball into fists as they look around for any signs of a culprit, or any indication the missing portion could have been put nearby.

Survival: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

"Ooh I'll teach you a lesson for a stealing a sacred monument alright..." They say as they immediately pull out their not yet buzzing axe and run off following the tracks, only to let out a slightly frustrated scream when the tracks inexplicably end. Then they immediately turn their attention to the boulder instead.

Impulse nods in agreement, puts their puzzle cube back into a side pouch and pulls out one of their notebooks, flipping through it with a noticeable intensity.

"Have I read anything about Rockloom?"

Society: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

Impulse shrugs, briefly stopping their tinkering with a strange cube puzzle that they are carrying around, and holds it to their side in one hand, finally turning their attention to Grandfather Eiwa, proper.

"So first we have to kill a moose and now you just want us to capture tapirs? What a waste, but I'll pack some extra netting again..."

The sigh that escapes their synthetic lungs is almost strong enough to knock over a small bush, figuratively speaking, of course.

"Well anyway what can you tell me about Rockloom? Do we know anything about what's over there before we go scouting and getting our lights knocked out? And why's it so important anyway?"

Impulse peeks around from behind the bush at Pakano's incredibly bone-headed display.

"That one may in fact have some screws lose in his head. Sadly, I don't think I have near enough tools to fix that problem... and I certainly have a lot of tools. Including this one!"

Impulse slides down a subtle switch on the right hand side of their strangely weighted greataxe.

Overdrive vs DC 15: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

The familiar buzz of the axe's power source kicking in is all the motivation they need to rush the moose head on! "The hunter now becomes the hunted!"

Innovation Greataxe: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Slashing Damage, OD: 1d12 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 3 + 1 = 10

Overdrive, Stride, Strike

Impulse intently ties and weaves together ropes, branches and some spiky dried pine needles. Then they tie the contraption between two trees, and rub some extra pine resin on to cover its scent to the massive creature.

Crafting: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

They slowly back away and take a good long look at it, eventually nodding and rushing away for cover.

Impulse snarls, their unnaturally white teeth shining through the angry grimace. "What is with you hunters and your traps? I'm the one who always gets saddled with making them!"

They sigh, and start pacing around in a circle deep in thought. They slowly twirl a portion of their tied back hair in-between two fingers, with flat and blank expression. "Just give me that stick, I'll play along, fine."

They spend the next minute very quietly sketching out a surprisingly intricate lattice of rope with some extra barding to strengthen the attached sections and the center against a Realm level animal threat. "Something like this?" Surprisingly, the loner does look up and look back and forth around between the rest of the group, waiting for an approval of the design.

The design itself is well drawn, if any of the following had seen architectural blueprints in their time passing through various towns, it would immediately evoke a resemblance. Two or three labels point at the reinforced sections, one of which having a label above it written in odd blocky and nearly runic looking lettering that stops halfway, is scribbled over and then the common regional tongue written underneath it.

Impulse sits on a small rock, their attention deeply focused on fiddling with a spring-like metal piece that pulls down the back of their axe and turns the head of it to better pierce the hides of creatures about, after the last hunt nearly ended in a draw between the animal and the hunters.

Ever difficult to read, especially considering the eye wear they seem intent on using that blocks any view of their eyes, for once you can sense a kind of nervous air coming off the young android. As if they are distinctly trying to look certain about their position while being very obviously uncertain.