Vertigo

Potential D&D idea

I’m down! Thinking a Monk or a Cleric.

An Idiot's Dungeon Union [It's Monster Politik Time]

You know what, I’m game

The Wild Beyond Witchlight

Upon hearing her offer be accepted — and the lock of her door be turned thereafter — Sshizna nodded, her tone more satisfied than relieved. "Excellent."

What was less so was the woman's apology. There was hardly a need for one; it was just as Rory had said, she would've been suspicious herself, were their roles reversed. And no Rule of Reciprocity would've lured her into wasting her time on prisoners of any sort.

Sshizna couldn't help but hiss at the onslaught that assaulted her senses as the door finally flung open, releasing her back into the world. Through her rapid blinks, she could see a redheaded half-elf — her so-called saviour — and her companions. Another half-elf, though this one a man and quite clearly the one who's prattling she had already tired of. A little further away was a human with the greenest eyes she'd ever seen — talking to a plant.

... Perhaps Rory, rusty as she clearly was with fey etiquette, wasn't the worst candidate for a discussion, after all.

"Yesss, well, I'm quite curiousss asss to your ssstrengthsss," Sshizna replied as she stepped aside to allow the other entry. "Have you and yoursss come to ssslay the hag, perchance?"

She didn't even try to hide the scrutiny in her gaze as she looked the group up and down, already quite sure of the answer — or at least, the outcome.

"Do not touch thossse bagsss there, and whatever you do, I would advissse againssst sssmelling that concoction," she gestured at her scattered things in one corner, then waved her hand dismissively at the rest of the room and its contents. "Do what you will with the ressst of the junk." Then, as if just remembering, she added: "Ah, and leave the lornling. I'm not yet finissshed with it."

Daggerheart: The Witherwild

And so the night crept ever closer.

Capriccio wasn't sure how many hours he'd spent in his spot on the balcony, absentmindedly composing a song he was only half-serious about, but no amount would've surprised him. He'd downed his sickly sweet ale and ordered another, sipping at it while taking in every patron who'd come and gone since. None had seemed quite what he was looking for, and so he'd eventually focused his attention on the busy world below his perch, nauseous as it made him.

With nothing to keep his interest, the steady stream of people had eventually all become a hazy blur, and before long he'd dozed off. Every now and again a slightly raised voice or a fit of laughter tore him awake long enough to spy on a few more people passing by — then sleep came to reclaim him.

What awoke him now was not the sound of drunken merrymaking; it was a commotion somewhere far below. Distant and faint at first, the frantic shouting grew louder every second, until Capriccio practically had to lean over the railing and look.

What his eyes focused on first wasn't the source of the shouting, however. No, he hadn't even begun to look for that, when a particularly tacky hat flopped into his peripheral vision. Capriccio squinted, a weird, familiar sense rattling him fully awake. He... he knew that hat — or one very like it, at the very least, and surely there couldn't be multiple people walking around in such a— aaand the hat was rushing off towards the commotion with no regard for her own safety. Yep.

It was her. Thankfully, the hunting party didn't seem to pose a threat, exactly, so all the diminutive wizard had to do was not slip when climbing down and she'd be alright.

... But what was Pepper doing here? It'd been a while since he'd last seen her; the best way to find out would be to simply ask. She was nothing if not upfront, after all, sometimes — oftentimes — even to her own detriment.

Capriccio stood, just about to make his way down towards her, when he spotted one member of the hunting party making his way up and towards the bar in turn. Oh. Oh, so now someone worth his while decides to wet his whistle, and not a single moment before. With a defeated sigh, Capriccio glanced down to make sure Pepper hadn't yet slipped and broken a bone, hoped she would continue her lucky streak of not doing so, and pushed himself towards the bar instead. He swiped his own, almost empty tankard off the table and searched for a seat within earshot of the old simiah man.

Judging by the old man's vexation and the silence of the rest of the patrons, Capriccio suspected the newest patron would be quite eager to share what he'd just been through all on his own, without being prompted. So for now, all he had to do was stomach a few more gulps of his ale, and listen.

Daggerheart: The Witherwild

Welp, so there went Monday too, but have writing time again tonight, sorry for the wait.

Daggerheart: The Witherwild

@Vertigo Haven't heard from you here in a little bit. Anything you want to add before the next GM post?

@XxFellsingxX

Yuh, was gonna post today as part of the catchup, but been trying to fend off an incoming migraine for the last few hours, so might have to be tomorrow instead if it gets worse instead of better. Soon, in either case though!

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

Yiss, that's a 9 then! It does work better this way actually so 👀 looking forward to the oof.

Will add an ooc bit in too btw, realized I forgot.

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

__________________________________________________

Fellwing couldn't remember when she'd last run as fast as she did now, the seemingly impenetrable darkness ahead of her not an obstruction, but a guide. She couldn't see the bends in the tunnels, couldn't tell when to turn or duck or hop over debris, yet she didn't trip even once. She could feel where to go, guided by a purpose that made her chest burn. The absolute idiots. If they hurt — or worse, killed — each other now, she'd—

There, a familiar flash of yellow.

Fellwing came to a stop, and in the time it took her to catch her breath and take in the scene, Runa had already approached and called out to what must've been her brother.

Only to be met with violence.

That was the final straw. Fellwing stretched her small form out to as wide as she could muster, her midnight wings flaring. She stomped a foot on the ground, a gesture that would have by all means been pathetic, had Shadows not burst forth from underneath her claws.

"ENOUGH!" the Seer bellowed, her voice not quite her own.

Dark magic tore through the air in what Fellwing had intended to be an interception of the blow meant for Runa — that was, had she been able to control the sudden, powerful magic she'd called forth. As things were, it was very likely the destructive magic would do more than just intercept.

But, her anger whispered, perhaps that was fine, too, if that got the troll to his senses.

ooc

Fellwing momentarily gives in to the Darkness and with a 9, calls forth powerful Shadow Magic — "almost too powerful."

Epyllion: Beyond Moonlight's Reach

Hmm, so actually, a quick question that potentially affects the outcome of Fellwing's magic. 2d6+1 gave me an 8, but then I realized I was also supposed to add Fellwing's marked Shadows. She had one before this, and using Shadow Magic makes her mark another-- so would she get +1 or +2 from the marked Shadows? As in, does the mark get added after or before the roll? +1 doesn't affect anything, but +2 does.

Either is fine and my post isn't really affected since it's up to you to describe the effect and all, just wondering! With Anger marked it's gonna be bad anyway, but with a <10, OOF.

Symphony on High

💀

20 | Female | Maverick Alternative | So(ME)thing On Your Mind
Kiss & Make Up | Handgun | Physical | We Are But Dust and Shadow
Hellspawn | Streetside Devil
Friends on the Other Side | Shadow | Abyssus Abyssum Invocat
[Obfuscate, Intangible] Damage X (6), Restrain (4), Blink (4), Minor Heal (2), Summon (2), Enhance (2), Powerful (0), Homing (2), Avoid (2), AoE (2), Bend (0), Transplace (4), Quicken (0), Full Extend (4), Scatter (2)

[Gold Touch][Quicken][Bend][Transplace] = -192

DAMAGE: B | SPEED: C | SENTINEL: E | 1250
PHYSICAL: D | ARCANE: D | CHAOS: E | 688

Multiple things dawned on Ciri at once.

One, she wouldn't be getting any backup from the other Mavs anytime soon which, despite her being the one to break off from the gang without prior notice, Ciri firmly believed was everyone else's fault but hers. Great, thanks, just go get eaten by the cereal mascots then. Two, just as she'd expected, her melody had once again just managed to damage Viper's armour, which she had assumed to be somehow mega-giga-durable or something, until she saw a regular-ass bullet be just as effective. Which meant that damaging the damn thing was about quantity, not quality. Three, Maverick weren't the only ones with a dragon, except this dragon was apparently also Regina, somehow.

And four, she'd never sign up for babysitting duty again, because damn was this stressful.

She'd have to lament about that later though, because there were a lot of other things to think about right now, like the damn dragon busting through the wall. She didn't have much time.

Ciri aimed her first thoughts at Amanda, Get away from the dragon, and put those damn tigers to sleep. Got a plan.

Just cover the kid, Ciri instructed It right after, hastily, before trying to turn her sights on Viper — an easier feat, once the tigers fell.

"Yeah, just one slight problem with that plan," she shouted, partly as a distraction, partly because she could no longer hide how annoyed she was by Viper's implication that she was somehow a final boss in this mess. Bitch was high on her own farts, like really, final match her ass! Ciri didn't have time for games, much less an entire damn tournament of bloodthirsty assholes. "I'm really fucking impatient, and your mug is first on my list."

The dragon was going to swipe at Ciri any moment now. Except if this worked — and it'd better fucking work — she'd be standing behind two sleeping tigers with Amanda running towards her, while Viper would get to find out what happened to her armour if it was hit with something as huge as a dragon claw. Would it finally shatter entirely, if hit in multiple places at once? Or was one hit still one hit?

Either way, Ciri would be in a slightly better position to start dealing with all the bullshit thrown her way.