clanjos

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria

Takahara sat at the table, patting a Kuro footsoldier on the back as the mook sobbed into his Darkness-Brand Soda. The fellow mook had spent a good while explaining the recent fall of the Shadow Line, and how most of their rails were torn up and ruined by the Rainbow Line. "Man... that's pretty rough. I know it always sucks finding a new job after an employer goes under. I've had to do it enough." "Kuro. Kuro... kuro." Of course there was a wife and kid to feed. There always was. For some reason, a lot of people- especially "protagonists"- seemed to think that mooks had no life outside the organization. That was seldom true. Takahara sighed. "Look, I'll put in a call. I've got a friend who works at Florsheim. They've been thinking about expanding into train production, you'd be perfect for that. How long have you worked with the Shadow Line?" "Kuro." "Yeah, they'll be all over you. Experience is a really big deal to Count Vamp. He's got a habit of hiring monsters and cyborgs after the companies go under. Just be sure to read up." Takahara reached into the magazine rack provided for waiting customers, handing the Kuro a copy of the Florsheim company magazine. The company's employees often came here, and were generally the one exception to the "no bosses" rule- Count Vamp was surprisingly calm about the lax atmosphere of Freddy's. The Kuro left to read up with a few other members of the group as Takahara finally got his pizza. Really, it was surprising just how much he had to eat to fuel the cybernetics Shocker put into him as a combatman. Now THOSE were some good times. He took a slice of the pepperoni and began dialing his communicator. After the pickup, Takahara carried on the conversation in Japanese- after all, Florsheim was based out of Japan. "Good evening, this is Sentou Takahara. Oh, hey Muscle Mammoth. Got you working reception this week? Yeah, I hear you, Summer's a busy time of year in our line of work. Listen, I was wondering if I could talk with Vamp about getting some friends a job. Yeah, another employer's gone under. Yes, the Shadow Line this time. That reminds me, did you patch things up with Sunred? Ah, good to hear! Oh, right, the Kuros. Yeah. Yeah. No, not Shadow Monsters, just the footsoldiers. Yeah. Fifteen years of working on railroads, he says. Six o'clock tomorrow? Yeah, I'll tell him to make the call. Oh, let Armor Tiger know one of the Hydra boys is aiming for his high score on Galaga! Later!" After a brief, pleasant chat with the Florsheim receptionist, Takahara set to work on something pressing: Devouring a greasy extra-large pizza.

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Takahara was pissed, and with good reason. A week, at least- the last attack the monsters made on his base camp left the stone with his tally marks in rubble, and he remembered there being at least seven- without help from Shadow Eternity. Without a "hey, how's it going, did you unleash something you shouldn't have" or a search party or any form of support. They'd been abandoned. They'd died slowly and terribly. This was horseshit of the highest degree. But there was one plus about this world. Even if the soil was barren, the ashes created by the dying monsters were more hospitable to the fruits he was carrying. Even better, the ashes were highly magical- which is why there was a ripe purple fruit, glowing with mana. Hopefully, this would get him a way out. He reached forward, the fruit glowing brightly for a moment. This was it. The moment of truth. He inhaled, not daring to open his eyes... but when he finally looked at the object in his hands, he could have wept with joy. A lockseed depicting a man in golden armor designed to resemble an ancient magician's regalia. He was finally going to get out of here. He was going to leave this dump behind for good. He pushed one of the buttons on the side... and the lock called out "SORCERER!" With a deep satisfied breath, the salaryman unlocked the Poseidon seed on his belt and replaced it, bringing down the knife. SORCERER ARMS! THE ARCANE PATH- DOMINATION! THAT was promising. But for now, it was time to eat food that wasn't preserved, and drink something that wasn't rainwater. He held out his hand, and a golden magical array appeared before him (CONNECT... NOW.) uniting two points across the multiverse. Takahara stepped through, and...

Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria

...as always, the portal to this place, regardless of its point of origin or the rules by which it functioned, opened into the men's bathroom's handicap stall. From outside, he could hear the jaunty tones of the animatronic band. Which meant, now, he was safe. Nothing chasing him. Nothing trying to kill him. Nothing trying to stuff him in some horrible dark hole in its chest. He broke his transformation and walked over to the mirror, looking over the damage his week of roughing it had done. He'd lost even more hair for a start. He was sporting some wicked 5 o'clock shadow. Oh, and his suit was torn to shit and his shoes pretty much ruined. He sighed, pulling open the mirror like a medicine cabinet. He and his friends came here so often that they had little stashes like this all over the restaurant. This one in particular had a spare communicator and a change of clothes. He put on the old Shocker Combatman's gear, glad to get fresh clothes after a week, and put on the spare shoes he had in the stash. Washing his hands and face, he headed to the usual booth where he hung out with his friends and sat down, waiting for the pizza to start coming in. He typed out a text, sending it to a select few contacts. The "Hench List," the others on the bottom rungs of Shadow Eternity who didn't quite meet the level of power that would make many interpretations of the Judeo-Christian God flee in terror that seemed to float around here far too often. No officers. Nobody with the authority to fire him. Just friends like Cliff and the rest. Just people he could vent to. Guys, it's Takahara from the accounting department. We need to discuss something. Meet me at that pizza place with the smelly animatronics and free skeeball. Across the room, a number of mooks from across the multiverse enjoyed their break. Two soldiers from the Red Ribbon army were playing Street Fighter. AIM and HYDRA agents gathered around the DDR machine, cheering on members of their respective factions as they played. Some Zeon soldiers were hogging the pinball machine. Attention, Freddy Fazbear's guests, would the owner of the green Zaku, license number SE-005... Numerous ninja stood around, either waiting in line for various machines or getting pictures with the band. Two combine Metrocops sat, eating pizza and complaining about some guy who didn't help pick up litter. There were even a few Iron Masks milling about in the corner. And, thanks to Takahara's recommendations, there were some Shocker grunts singing at a karaoke machine. Yes, Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria had become a hotspot for the faceless henchmen of the multiverse. After all, the reason the robots had gone berserk was botched facial recognition software. So masked henchmen could pass unnoticed, but those who came to try to get them to actually work? Well, they'd have to contend with the absurdly strong animatronics. They didn't stand much of a chance, but the ever-mounting cost of replacing them lead most villains to leave minions at Freddy Fazbear's alone.

Massive Multiversal Crossover

Kamen Rider Fifteen, Client World 576143290-B On the surface, a number of pale, faceless lanky humanoids with long arms drew closer to a man with a spear shaped like a fish. This game of cat and mouse had been going on for about a week. The monsters would catch up to him, he'd run for a bit, then kill a few, then run more. Takahara had learned from their hunting tactics. One of the creatures' chest opened to reveal the empty black void of its mouth. Anatomically unfeasible, yes, but Takahara had seen stranger. "It's time for the curtain call, monsters." With that, he grasped the knife on his belt, bringing it down twice. His helmet glowed a brighter blue as the belt called out... "POSEIDON AU LAIT! SHARK!" With that, a number of sharks made of energy flew out, biting into the humanoids repeatedly and holding them steady, as the knife came down three times. "POSEIDON SPARKING! WHALE!" Though the sharks were losing their grip on the humanoids, Takahara had accomplished what he needed to. The tremendous ball of energy gathered above, a sphere of water held in place only by surface tension. The ball began boiling, and soon a whale made of plasma dropped onto the humanoid creatures, causing them to turn to ash. Takahara breathed a sigh of relief. Until Shadow Eternity came to rescue their operatives- which, honestly, wasn't likely after being stranded her for a week- it seemed it was up to him to make this world a little less of a shithole and a little more worth conquering. --- Dakro Shieldbearer, UMMA Vessel Tanngrisnir Dakro sat at a table in the ship's mess hall, going through more food. Summoning all those fyora had taken it out of him, and now it was time to recharge his mystical essences with delicious ornk steaks. The growing pile of bones next to his plate hinted at the guardian's massive appetite. The cafeteria didn't even bother trying to issue him meal tickets. If they did, he'd just summon, slaughter, and cook an ornk in the cafeteria. It seemed even time in the multiverse couldn't imbue a man from a semi-medieval mystical culture with an understanding of workplace hygiene or the concept of bacteria.

Dungeon-crawling Adventure RP

yeah, I'll keep going.

D&D 3.5- Grunts

You guys ARE the dungeon mobs, but those artifacts stolen from local merchants have to find their way to the lich's tomb somehow. I wasn't aware that you're shooting for trapsmith though- pretty fantastic choice if you ask me. The current head of the Trap Department might take an interest in you. Anyway, in my experience rogues work better in concert, and I'm liking the angle for Trapsmith. If you feel that the Kobold Rogue is the best fit for the character you want to play, I don't have a problem with it.

D&D 3.5- Grunts

I may have been unclear with some of the goals of this campaign. This WILL be a campaign involving adventure. You'll be stealing from museums and nobles, poaching pandas in the Japan analogue, robbing bandits, and trying to drive off Dungeon Lords trying to muscle in on The Dungeonmaster's territory just as often as you'll be beefing up security and dealing with the odd political structure of the dungeon. And while the kobold rogue ACF has a distinctive flavor unique to the kobold archetype, it looks as though your skill selection has some major overlap with Raineh's.

D&D 3.5- Grunts

Looks good, but you might want to consider the Artificer from Eberron, or the Master from Dragonlance for a trapmaker- they can both do some genuinely insane things with Craft skills. Such as +10 masterwork bonuses. Plus the Artificer opens up the wonderful world of magical traps.

D&D 3.5- Rise of the

The gist of the world's politics is, at the moment, that there are two parallel societies. The first is the typical adventuring society with the conventional humanoids, half-orcs, and the like. The aesthetics and government vary from place to place, but so far what I've got are a cosmopolitan Rome analogue near the dungeon the PC's call home, a Japan analogue run by hobgoblins, aztec lizardmen/reptile kobolds/muckdwellers, and what I can best describe as "Egypt, but more deserty." These empires require lots of money to function, which they can't bring in consistently due to economic fluctuations. However, if empires collapse, it weakens the forces of Law in the universe. Then you have the society of Dungeon Dwellers. This society resides in the tombs, catacombs, caves, and carcasses that honeycomb the world, stretching down to the Underdark. These are your atypical races- goblins, kobolds, savage lizardmen, gnolls, orcs, drow, undead, muckdwellers, gremlins, imps, etc. This society is fairly profitable, having access to powerful enchanters, skilled craftsmen, and cheap labor. Further income and minions are provided by the forces of Law (who like the ready source of income that loot provides to the empires), Evil (who like to have places for minions to rest, propagate, and train), Chaos (who like the freedom that a dungeon presents for adventures), Good (who just seem to fund everything), and Neutrality (who give funds to balance out their contributions to holy orders). In order to keep all their Law/Evil funding, however, the rulers of the dungeons- the Dungeon Lords- must meet certain quotas in terms of loot production, racial composition, and Evil Acts. The Dungeon Lord is the most powerful denizen of any dungeon, with a support staff meant to keep the wheels running. The setting hasn't been fleshed out that much, so feel free to contribute stuff. I'll look over that article later.

D&D 3.5- Rise of the

Would I be correct in assuming that, as we're working for the dungeon, our resident trapmakers could simply send them invoices for the costs incurred as part of building and maintaining traps? After all, if we're being hired to protect the dungeon, it just seems like bad business to ask us to pay for trap construction out of our own pockets. Just want to know since it'll determine how I spend my money.

@Primal Conundrum

When building traps for the dungeon, you'll have your materials provided. But when building for personal use you'll have to pay for materials. However, the guy usually doing the big, freaky traps is a kobold named Nak-Nak.

4d6 drop the lowest. I'm doing the rolls to ensure fairness.

@clanjos

Requesting rolls.

@Psyga315

10, 14, 16, 9, 14, 16

D&D 3.5- Rise of the

16, 17, 12, 15, 11, 9.