The SSRS Kostroma lies idle in the southeastern bay of Mended Horn Island. Only the front portion, the two forward masts and the front of the superstructure that sits in the center of the freighter's hull, is illuminated by a pair of dim lights that glow orange-red, a sure sign that the boilers of the Kostroma are dying, and the lights will soon go off. The remainder of the ship's funnel, and the mast behind the superstructure are visible only in silhouette. The gibbous moon and starry night that would have provided a clear backdrop to the black hulk of the Kostroma have been smothered by the overcast skies and light rain.
A sound comes, not from the Kostroma, and indeed, not from anywhere at all. A low, vaguely tinnitus-like sound that drains out the sound of silence. It calls to you. It calls to everyone.
"Come to the Kostroma, good soldier. Join us here. Come."
/vx/ - Videogames and Paranormal
1320 replies and 42 files omitted.
>>194056
>What does a god need with a ship?
"You refer it it as a 'god'... I was under the impression that Stalliongrad's propaganda had all but eliminated the pious types. Still, I would hold your speculations. Fear is the strongest weapon of the mind benders, and the Intruder surely seems to make you believe that it is stronger than it really is,God or not..." She says
"My masters before me once encountered a godling, or so they claimed. They described her to be so frail, delicate and helpless in appearance, like a newborn child, but the utter destruction she unleashed told its own story, an entity more than capable of wiping out entire civilizations as it arrived on earth. Its shrill scream shook the cosmos themselves. I can only imagine the glory." she ponders
She puts a hoof to her chest and grimaces in sudden discomfort, her chest heaving
"But it was destroyed all the same, after untold efforts and works of brilliance by an entire school of mages, even if fragments of it refused to st-stay b-buried." she continues, panting oddly
"My point is, whatever kind of entity the intruder is, it is still a creature with limits. As far as we can tell, it has been fully reliant on its summons and its flock for all of its activities, and despite its immense Conjuration abilities it seems to be incapable of teleportation, or else it would not still be here. If we know of its plan, we may be able to control its movements."
She looks up at Monstro above her head
"If the GRU vessel were to be compromised, it is possible that the Intruder would have no choice but to use this ship, if it ever wants to leave. That gives me an idea..." Posey says
>What does a god need with a ship?
"You refer it it as a 'god'... I was under the impression that Stalliongrad's propaganda had all but eliminated the pious types. Still, I would hold your speculations. Fear is the strongest weapon of the mind benders, and the Intruder surely seems to make you believe that it is stronger than it really is,God or not..." She says
"My masters before me once encountered a godling, or so they claimed. They described her to be so frail, delicate and helpless in appearance, like a newborn child, but the utter destruction she unleashed told its own story, an entity more than capable of wiping out entire civilizations as it arrived on earth. Its shrill scream shook the cosmos themselves. I can only imagine the glory." she ponders
She puts a hoof to her chest and grimaces in sudden discomfort, her chest heaving
"But it was destroyed all the same, after untold efforts and works of brilliance by an entire school of mages, even if fragments of it refused to st-stay b-buried." she continues, panting oddly
"My point is, whatever kind of entity the intruder is, it is still a creature with limits. As far as we can tell, it has been fully reliant on its summons and its flock for all of its activities, and despite its immense Conjuration abilities it seems to be incapable of teleportation, or else it would not still be here. If we know of its plan, we may be able to control its movements."
She looks up at Monstro above her head
"If the GRU vessel were to be compromised, it is possible that the Intruder would have no choice but to use this ship, if it ever wants to leave. That gives me an idea..." Posey says
Recognizing how long it had been, Silver gives Mala some more scritches.
>>194059
Blackheel looks back to Cavaliere, and exhales
"Well, I hope so, or like to think so. Yes, the aft deckhouse is sensible. It will have some kind of trick or surprise for us, I am sure."
>>194060
To Kira:
"I suppose we'll see if your snake god thing has any actual power to smite 'Our Fellow Traveller'."
To Silver
"The weapons would be with the Petrushkas. They were mostly for the guard. There were not as many weapons as ponies on the ship."
>>194061
Blackheel scrunches
"That is its best move going forward, I would bet."
>>194061
>>194055
Stained Sand speaks up
"Or, maybe it's a dumb monster and it doesn't know how to operate a freight ship, nor does it care to. Last night we noticed that the front part of the ship didn't turn off its lights. That was the part that you said was under the control of the mutineers. You knew to turn off the lights. Anyone should have. It let us track you easily. We may have lost you if they had turned off the lights, but they did not. That thing and its minions don't know any better."
Blackheel
"You did indeed follow it. You followed it right into the side of a mountain, and it got your captain in the process, and a few more. It may still get you. Don't underestimate it."
>>194075
The line of a god and a ship was spoken by Captain Weary Weeks, who is one of the airship ponies. He is/was the highest-ranking officer of the K19 and one of its pilots. He is at least partly under the influence of the Traveller. This is the one that Posey kicked in the balls.
>>194075
"Well..." Blackheel is silenced. "I can't say I'm familiar with any other instances of something like this happening. I know it is limited. But you should still be extremely grateful it can't even open its own eyelids.
More ships will come if they are given the time. The only reason the Fascists haven't sent their planes already is because of the weather. They'd be here already but for the fog. The Nova Griffonians are sleepier but they will be here by the dawn."
>>194076
While the long, black mane that runs down Mala's back is covered by his flak jacket, his neck, head, and ears are mostly open. Mala smiles and closes his eyes as he accepts the scritches.
Before Silver did this, he alternated between staring upwards into the dark windows of the midship, and across the deck to the aft deckhouse.
Blackheel looks back to Cavaliere, and exhales
"Well, I hope so, or like to think so. Yes, the aft deckhouse is sensible. It will have some kind of trick or surprise for us, I am sure."
>>194060
To Kira:
"I suppose we'll see if your snake god thing has any actual power to smite 'Our Fellow Traveller'."
To Silver
"The weapons would be with the Petrushkas. They were mostly for the guard. There were not as many weapons as ponies on the ship."
>>194061
Blackheel scrunches
"That is its best move going forward, I would bet."
>>194061
>>194055
Stained Sand speaks up
"Or, maybe it's a dumb monster and it doesn't know how to operate a freight ship, nor does it care to. Last night we noticed that the front part of the ship didn't turn off its lights. That was the part that you said was under the control of the mutineers. You knew to turn off the lights. Anyone should have. It let us track you easily. We may have lost you if they had turned off the lights, but they did not. That thing and its minions don't know any better."
Blackheel
"You did indeed follow it. You followed it right into the side of a mountain, and it got your captain in the process, and a few more. It may still get you. Don't underestimate it."
>>194075
The line of a god and a ship was spoken by Captain Weary Weeks, who is one of the airship ponies. He is/was the highest-ranking officer of the K19 and one of its pilots. He is at least partly under the influence of the Traveller. This is the one that Posey kicked in the balls.
>>194075
"Well..." Blackheel is silenced. "I can't say I'm familiar with any other instances of something like this happening. I know it is limited. But you should still be extremely grateful it can't even open its own eyelids.
More ships will come if they are given the time. The only reason the Fascists haven't sent their planes already is because of the weather. They'd be here already but for the fog. The Nova Griffonians are sleepier but they will be here by the dawn."
>>194076
While the long, black mane that runs down Mala's back is covered by his flak jacket, his neck, head, and ears are mostly open. Mala smiles and closes his eyes as he accepts the scritches.
Before Silver did this, he alternated between staring upwards into the dark windows of the midship, and across the deck to the aft deckhouse.
>>194077
Kira smiles proudly. "Of course he does! This is his realm, after all. His world, his children, all of it is from him."
Silver frowns, concerned about the force they may be walking into. He knows it must be done, but it still worries him. "What kind of armament should we expect?"
Interestingly, petting Mala seems to be having the same effect on Silver as petting a dog would, releasing serotonin in his mind and calming him down.
Kira smiles proudly. "Of course he does! This is his realm, after all. His world, his children, all of it is from him."
Silver frowns, concerned about the force they may be walking into. He knows it must be done, but it still worries him. "What kind of armament should we expect?"
Interestingly, petting Mala seems to be having the same effect on Silver as petting a dog would, releasing serotonin in his mind and calming him down.
>>194077
>The line of a god and a ship was spoken by Captain Weary Weeks
Oops.
Well, reimagine that post in a way that makes sense.
>This is the one that Posey kicked in the balls.
Posey putting the fear of god into stallions.
.
"Anyways, we should keep moving. I am mostly uninjured so I will lead the way. One of you sailors can tell me about the path and any upcoming turns as we go. We can debate the monster's capacity for tactical thought after the boiler is repaired." Posey says, stepping into the dark.
Does Posey see or hear anything of note as she proceeds towards the aft deckhouse?
>The line of a god and a ship was spoken by Captain Weary Weeks
Oops.
Well, reimagine that post in a way that makes sense.
>This is the one that Posey kicked in the balls.
Posey putting the fear of god into stallions.
.
"Anyways, we should keep moving. I am mostly uninjured so I will lead the way. One of you sailors can tell me about the path and any upcoming turns as we go. We can debate the monster's capacity for tactical thought after the boiler is repaired." Posey says, stepping into the dark.
Does Posey see or hear anything of note as she proceeds towards the aft deckhouse?
>>194077
Cavaliere questions, "Your cargo didn't include very many weapons, and you didn't sail under escort. What were your plans for repelling boarders? Did your superiors understand the gravity of what you were transporting?" He pauses for a second.
"I agree that we should be out quickly. This was why I suggested getting one of the boats of here so some creatures would have better chance of escape. What's important for us is dealing with this threat before any other groups come to meddle."
Cavaliere will follow the group if it's unanimously agreed upon to start moving.
Cavaliere questions, "Your cargo didn't include very many weapons, and you didn't sail under escort. What were your plans for repelling boarders? Did your superiors understand the gravity of what you were transporting?" He pauses for a second.
"I agree that we should be out quickly. This was why I suggested getting one of the boats of here so some creatures would have better chance of escape. What's important for us is dealing with this threat before any other groups come to meddle."
Cavaliere will follow the group if it's unanimously agreed upon to start moving.
The lights on the forward masts of the ship again shine their dim, reddish lights across the forward deck.
The portholes of the superstructure in the center are mostly black, though a small few have lights on within. Hard to say if anyone is inside. And if anyone is looking down on them...
The aft deck is overwhelmingly dark, wet with the mist and rain. The fog has reduced greatly, You can see from one end of the ship to the other. But the fog still blocks off the island, and the end of the harbor, as if the ship is isolated from all of space and time. The rain now forms larger droplets.
>>194079
Blackheel to Kira:
"Riigghht... That's what we're missing. A snake god."
He turns to Silver
"Mostly bolt action rifles, but there were submachine guns. Shotguns. Automatic rifles. Hard to say what is lying on the island and what is still on the ship."
Mala is pet
He opens up his eyes, still smiling. He seems calmed by it as well.
>>194080
A simple sound of steel bending, presumably from a wave moving under the ship. Waves may be picking up. Perhaps the weather is getting worse, perhaps the tide is coming in, perhaps it is the wake of an unseen boat.
There is a blood spot on the deck.
The portholes of the superstructure in the center are mostly black, though a small few have lights on within. Hard to say if anyone is inside. And if anyone is looking down on them...
The aft deck is overwhelmingly dark, wet with the mist and rain. The fog has reduced greatly, You can see from one end of the ship to the other. But the fog still blocks off the island, and the end of the harbor, as if the ship is isolated from all of space and time. The rain now forms larger droplets.
>>194079
Blackheel to Kira:
"Riigghht... That's what we're missing. A snake god."
He turns to Silver
"Mostly bolt action rifles, but there were submachine guns. Shotguns. Automatic rifles. Hard to say what is lying on the island and what is still on the ship."
Mala is pet
He opens up his eyes, still smiling. He seems calmed by it as well.
>>194080
A simple sound of steel bending, presumably from a wave moving under the ship. Waves may be picking up. Perhaps the weather is getting worse, perhaps the tide is coming in, perhaps it is the wake of an unseen boat.
There is a blood spot on the deck.
>>194081
"A dozen marines and many anti-air gunners. And we have more guns than that. That is enough for most threats, especially since the anti-air guns may be used against surface targets as well.
I don't know what my superiors thought. They didn't say much about what the cargo was or what they thought it could do. They said it was the corpse of a fantastic beast and that they wanted to examine it. They spent far more time talking about the cooperation with science elements and with foreign governments. That is more in line with what my duties were anyways. I am certain the Fascists intelligence officers in Trottingham were told more about the entity than I was by my superiors. But the Skynavians liaisons, by contrast, wouldn't shut up about it. They told all sorts of stories and promised all kinds of great things. Those who had actually been to the village and had been around the creature did not wish to say much about it at all and did not like it.
I was under the impression that it was some kind of hoax or salemanship to get us to send them items for free. I actually thought my superiors thought the same. Most of what we sent in payment was fuel oil. Basic heating oil for smaller structures, diesel for remote generators, bunker oil for larger heating systems and ships. In the Winter. We may have had to send it anyways for mercy. Most of the rest was land clearing equipment like bulldozers and front-end loaders. At least this way we could say we got something out of it.
Did they know it was this magical? With the number of science personal sent, maybe. I think they may know now. I certainly did not."
"A dozen marines and many anti-air gunners. And we have more guns than that. That is enough for most threats, especially since the anti-air guns may be used against surface targets as well.
I don't know what my superiors thought. They didn't say much about what the cargo was or what they thought it could do. They said it was the corpse of a fantastic beast and that they wanted to examine it. They spent far more time talking about the cooperation with science elements and with foreign governments. That is more in line with what my duties were anyways. I am certain the Fascists intelligence officers in Trottingham were told more about the entity than I was by my superiors. But the Skynavians liaisons, by contrast, wouldn't shut up about it. They told all sorts of stories and promised all kinds of great things. Those who had actually been to the village and had been around the creature did not wish to say much about it at all and did not like it.
I was under the impression that it was some kind of hoax or salemanship to get us to send them items for free. I actually thought my superiors thought the same. Most of what we sent in payment was fuel oil. Basic heating oil for smaller structures, diesel for remote generators, bunker oil for larger heating systems and ships. In the Winter. We may have had to send it anyways for mercy. Most of the rest was land clearing equipment like bulldozers and front-end loaders. At least this way we could say we got something out of it.
Did they know it was this magical? With the number of science personal sent, maybe. I think they may know now. I certainly did not."
>>194082
Kira scrunches slightly, but she knows it's not their fault. To them she's just some weird snake-pony hybrid monster from a faraway land worshipping a foreign god. But she'll show them. They're all Ouroboros' children, and he cares for them whether they worship Him or not.
Silver's eyes widen slightly. "Any specifics on those weapons? What models of weapons exactly are they armed with?"
Kira scrunches slightly, but she knows it's not their fault. To them she's just some weird snake-pony hybrid monster from a faraway land worshipping a foreign god. But she'll show them. They're all Ouroboros' children, and he cares for them whether they worship Him or not.
Silver's eyes widen slightly. "Any specifics on those weapons? What models of weapons exactly are they armed with?"
>>194084
A small pool of blood on the deck. It is wet, but the rain and mist has obviously disturbed it and it has run towards the edge of the deck with the water running off the deck. There is no trail and there is a single claw print stepping in it. Only a single second claw print of blood exists, going in the direction of the aft deckhouse.
Blackheel:
"You could say that. To keep morale, to act as a liaison between the multiple nations involved in the operation, and to make sure that operations were consistent with the interests and ideology of the Stalliongradian Communist Party.
>>194085
Well... He isn't fleeing in terror. So there's that.
Blackheel:
"SVETA rifles, PSH-11 submachine guns, a light machine gun, and a number of vlazhnyy rifles."
A small pool of blood on the deck. It is wet, but the rain and mist has obviously disturbed it and it has run towards the edge of the deck with the water running off the deck. There is no trail and there is a single claw print stepping in it. Only a single second claw print of blood exists, going in the direction of the aft deckhouse.
Blackheel:
"You could say that. To keep morale, to act as a liaison between the multiple nations involved in the operation, and to make sure that operations were consistent with the interests and ideology of the Stalliongradian Communist Party.
>>194085
Well... He isn't fleeing in terror. So there's that.
Blackheel:
"SVETA rifles, PSH-11 submachine guns, a light machine gun, and a number of vlazhnyy rifles."
>>194086
Obviously Cavaliere has to make sure he wasn't the one who stepped in it. Is he able to know? Also, can he get any more precise indication on how old the bloodstain is?
"Watch out for the bloodstain here. It's still fresh, but if it was left by a body I can see no signs of it."
Obviously Cavaliere has to make sure he wasn't the one who stepped in it. Is he able to know? Also, can he get any more precise indication on how old the bloodstain is?
"Watch out for the bloodstain here. It's still fresh, but if it was left by a body I can see no signs of it."
>>194086
Silver nods, though the concern shows through his expression. "Those submachine guns have frankly absurd rate of fire. If one of those gets bead on us it will shred straight through us."
Silver nods, though the concern shows through his expression. "Those submachine guns have frankly absurd rate of fire. If one of those gets bead on us it will shred straight through us."
>>194089
Silver looks to Mala with his fancy new shotgun. "I want to try to save all that we can, but if one of those petrushkas comes around corner armed with one of those submachine guns...well, you are best armed to deal with it."
Silver looks to Mala with his fancy new shotgun. "I want to try to save all that we can, but if one of those petrushkas comes around corner armed with one of those submachine guns...well, you are best armed to deal with it."
>>194089
I'm guessing Cavaliere did NOT step in it, then.
"It's possible this bloodstain was left behind by either Dr. Light Water or one of the pirates less than an hour ago. Something caused a large volume of blood to spill, but it was stopped by the time the victim moved or was moved."
I'm guessing Cavaliere did NOT step in it, then.
"It's possible this bloodstain was left behind by either Dr. Light Water or one of the pirates less than an hour ago. Something caused a large volume of blood to spill, but it was stopped by the time the victim moved or was moved."
>>194090
Mala takes the shotgun, which is slung over his shoulder, and with his right paw moves it forward. The shotgun is very large, with the bayonet the size of a short sword and making the weapon almost a polearm. Mala moves his head forward, evidently attempting a curt nod, though it doesn't seem quite right, perhaps because his head is lowered from his shoulders.
"Uh, yes, I can do that."
>>194091
It was not him.
The creatures take note, and Mala comes up and seems to sniff it.
Mala takes the shotgun, which is slung over his shoulder, and with his right paw moves it forward. The shotgun is very large, with the bayonet the size of a short sword and making the weapon almost a polearm. Mala moves his head forward, evidently attempting a curt nod, though it doesn't seem quite right, perhaps because his head is lowered from his shoulders.
"Uh, yes, I can do that."
>>194091
It was not him.
The creatures take note, and Mala comes up and seems to sniff it.
>>194092
Silver looks back to Black Heel. "It can happen that during mutiny one side will set traps. Did you and other survivors come across any as you made your escape?"
Silver looks back to Black Heel. "It can happen that during mutiny one side will set traps. Did you and other survivors come across any as you made your escape?"
>>194086
>a single claw print stepping in it. Only a single second claw print of blood exists, going in the direction of the aft deckhouse.
As in, like a hippogriff's claw?
Posey continues moving in that direction.
>>194088
>>194086
>>194089
What even is the rate of fire for machine guns in this game? How do they work? Do they interact with the rapid shot or burst fire feats? Are they AoE?
>a single claw print stepping in it. Only a single second claw print of blood exists, going in the direction of the aft deckhouse.
As in, like a hippogriff's claw?
Posey continues moving in that direction.
>>194088
>>194086
>>194089
What even is the rate of fire for machine guns in this game? How do they work? Do they interact with the rapid shot or burst fire feats? Are they AoE?
>>194078
^^
Vir rubs the back of her head with her hoof.
"I don't recall. It was some fancy pants stuff. She brought out just for me to sip. But don't worry about me, I'm already a moocher on the church's hospitality."
Then she smacks her lips.
"Then again, I could go for some milk."
^^
Vir rubs the back of her head with her hoof.
"I don't recall. It was some fancy pants stuff. She brought out just for me to sip. But don't worry about me, I'm already a moocher on the church's hospitality."
Then she smacks her lips.
"Then again, I could go for some milk."
>>194083
Posey scoffs
Transporting an unidentified magical cadaver without properly briefing the transport crew and taking proper containment measures, or even making sure it was fully dead? I have met smugglers and pirates who were more responsible with such cargo, and even they had a grisly margin of error when transporting Somnambulan relics without a seasoned Necrologist foal-sitting them. This would not be the first time the husk of dead demigod enslaved the crew transporting it."
Posey, still walking, turns to Blackheel
"Were you the only mage tasked with overseeing this mission? You clearly have other responsibilities aboard this ship other than commitment to practicing the arcane, so you could not have been the esoteric consultant on this ship. Does the Kostroma have any dedicated magewright we might run into?"
>>194089
Posey, ever the sanguine sommelier discreetly levitates a droplet of blood and samples it in the darkness.
Is that hippogriff blood?
Posey scoffs
Transporting an unidentified magical cadaver without properly briefing the transport crew and taking proper containment measures, or even making sure it was fully dead? I have met smugglers and pirates who were more responsible with such cargo, and even they had a grisly margin of error when transporting Somnambulan relics without a seasoned Necrologist foal-sitting them. This would not be the first time the husk of dead demigod enslaved the crew transporting it."
Posey, still walking, turns to Blackheel
"Were you the only mage tasked with overseeing this mission? You clearly have other responsibilities aboard this ship other than commitment to practicing the arcane, so you could not have been the esoteric consultant on this ship. Does the Kostroma have any dedicated magewright we might run into?"
>>194089
Posey, ever the sanguine sommelier discreetly levitates a droplet of blood and samples it in the darkness.
Is that hippogriff blood?
>>194096
Blackheel slightly narrows his eyes and his ears go down.
“Right….”
His ears go back up, and he relaxes his lips.
“You’ve repeatedly voiced frustration at your lack of understanding of how to kill it, what it can do, what its limits are, or even what it is, and you’ve been dancing with it the better part of a day. I think our scientists in Petershoof, who had never seen or interacted with it and still haven’t, can be forgiven for being unprepared. “
He looks down.
“Or maybe they can’t. Maybe they did know what they were dealing with. But no, I was not in charge of the scientific operations, rather morale and political coordination. The military command was split between Schattenwechsel as the military advisor and Captain Salted Watch in command of operating the ship.
He smiles
“But yes, we had an arcane scientific advisor, and I would venture to say that he quickly became more knowledgeable on the entity than anycreature else. I believe you’ve spoken to him.”
The blood is griffin blood.
>>194093
“No. We were in charge of the rear half of the vessel at the time, the half you now wish to go through.”
Blackheel slightly narrows his eyes and his ears go down.
“Right….”
His ears go back up, and he relaxes his lips.
“You’ve repeatedly voiced frustration at your lack of understanding of how to kill it, what it can do, what its limits are, or even what it is, and you’ve been dancing with it the better part of a day. I think our scientists in Petershoof, who had never seen or interacted with it and still haven’t, can be forgiven for being unprepared. “
He looks down.
“Or maybe they can’t. Maybe they did know what they were dealing with. But no, I was not in charge of the scientific operations, rather morale and political coordination. The military command was split between Schattenwechsel as the military advisor and Captain Salted Watch in command of operating the ship.
He smiles
“But yes, we had an arcane scientific advisor, and I would venture to say that he quickly became more knowledgeable on the entity than anycreature else. I believe you’ve spoken to him.”
The blood is griffin blood.
>>194093
“No. We were in charge of the rear half of the vessel at the time, the half you now wish to go through.”
>>194095
"Oh very well. Saves me the effort of boiling the water. Starting a fire." She gets up and walks towards a refrigerator in a not-actually separate kitchen area. "Oh my nephew hated the church. Never quite understood what his issue was. It's good to see little... big mares like you still appreciate it. Or at least their tea."
"Oh very well. Saves me the effort of boiling the water. Starting a fire." She gets up and walks towards a refrigerator in a not-actually separate kitchen area. "Oh my nephew hated the church. Never quite understood what his issue was. It's good to see little... big mares like you still appreciate it. Or at least their tea."
>>194097
>I think our scientists in Petershoof, who had never seen or interacted with it and still haven’t, can be forgiven for being unprepared.
"Oh, I can easily forgive the crew for being unprepared. It is the higher-ups who should have known better. I have seen enough times in my career." Posey replies
>But yes, we had an arcane scientific advisor, and I would venture to say that he quickly became more knowledgeable on the entity than anycreature else. I believe you’ve spoken to him.
"You mean Light Water? He was your leading expert on the Arcane? That comes as a surprise. I never heard of a hippogriff so precocious with the arcane. What sort of mage was he? It is better to know before we face him."
She looks towards the puddle of blood and squints
"This coagulation... Low PCV... This was the blood of a griffon, not a hippogriff. Unless there were griffons on the crew of the ship, the pirates went this way." She says
>I think our scientists in Petershoof, who had never seen or interacted with it and still haven’t, can be forgiven for being unprepared.
"Oh, I can easily forgive the crew for being unprepared. It is the higher-ups who should have known better. I have seen enough times in my career." Posey replies
>But yes, we had an arcane scientific advisor, and I would venture to say that he quickly became more knowledgeable on the entity than anycreature else. I believe you’ve spoken to him.
"You mean Light Water? He was your leading expert on the Arcane? That comes as a surprise. I never heard of a hippogriff so precocious with the arcane. What sort of mage was he? It is better to know before we face him."
She looks towards the puddle of blood and squints
"This coagulation... Low PCV... This was the blood of a griffon, not a hippogriff. Unless there were griffons on the crew of the ship, the pirates went this way." She says
>>194098
"Oh, I appreciate it more than for just its tea," Vir says and turns to display the faded sun emblem that covered her cloak's back. "I was raised on breast-wine and communion bread when I was tiny like a mouse. Squeak. Squeak."
"Oh, I appreciate it more than for just its tea," Vir says and turns to display the faded sun emblem that covered her cloak's back. "I was raised on breast-wine and communion bread when I was tiny like a mouse. Squeak. Squeak."
>>194097
>>194099
Cavaliere remarks, "Many unicorns believe they have a special affinity with arcane science, but there is nothing preventing another species from at least having a book knowledge of the field. In the end it doesn't matter how knowledgeable an arcane scientist is—the entity would have shown him exactly what he wanted, and a more skilled magician is only more dangerous under his thralldom."
>>194099
Cavaliere remarks, "Many unicorns believe they have a special affinity with arcane science, but there is nothing preventing another species from at least having a book knowledge of the field. In the end it doesn't matter how knowledgeable an arcane scientist is—the entity would have shown him exactly what he wanted, and a more skilled magician is only more dangerous under his thralldom."
>>194103
"I am well aware of the widespread and diverse practice of The Art. There are countless arcane traditions across the many creatures of this land; all of which are fascinating in their esoteric ways. We unicorns, however, have innate sensitivity to magic in our horns, and an ancient tradition of astronomy that formed the foundation of our eldritch prowess, which is why all of the mightiest mortal mages in history have been unicorns." Posey says
(This is not reflected in game mechanics)
He cannot be that skilled if he allowed himself to be enslaved. The results speak for themselves." Posey continues, turning up her chin
(t. is currently enslaved)
"A responsible arcanist would have taken precautions before the mission, and should have first determined if the cargo was safe to be transported at all with the given resources. It seems as though he got too enthusiastic believing he had found something special and forgot years of training in the blink of an eye. Not a mistake a trained and gifted unicorn such as I would have made."
(yeah, there was that thing with the cursed Tiara... but it was retconned :D)
"I am well aware of the widespread and diverse practice of The Art. There are countless arcane traditions across the many creatures of this land; all of which are fascinating in their esoteric ways. We unicorns, however, have innate sensitivity to magic in our horns, and an ancient tradition of astronomy that formed the foundation of our eldritch prowess, which is why all of the mightiest mortal mages in history have been unicorns." Posey says
(This is not reflected in game mechanics)
He cannot be that skilled if he allowed himself to be enslaved. The results speak for themselves." Posey continues, turning up her chin
(t. is currently enslaved)
"A responsible arcanist would have taken precautions before the mission, and should have first determined if the cargo was safe to be transported at all with the given resources. It seems as though he got too enthusiastic believing he had found something special and forgot years of training in the blink of an eye. Not a mistake a trained and gifted unicorn such as I would have made."
(yeah, there was that thing with the cursed Tiara... but it was retconned :D)
So, do we see anything in the deckhouse as we pass through it?
A detail of the stern half I forgot to mention:
A hatch on the cargo hold is open, but there is nothing remarkable. A boon has been lowered from the mast, but it isn't consistent with any clear intent, it seems like an accident.
The stern deckhouse is a single level. On top of it is a deck with railings holding a single, very large gun, elevated above the level of the roof. Likely a 4 inch gun. Somewhere behind it are two more guns, presumably 20's.
There are no lights on, inside nor outside. The door to the aft deckhouse is unlocked.
Inside, there is a small hallway with indistinct green painted walls to either side that stretches only 15 or so feet, and leads to a perpendicular hallway
A hatch on the cargo hold is open, but there is nothing remarkable. A boon has been lowered from the mast, but it isn't consistent with any clear intent, it seems like an accident.
The stern deckhouse is a single level. On top of it is a deck with railings holding a single, very large gun, elevated above the level of the roof. Likely a 4 inch gun. Somewhere behind it are two more guns, presumably 20's.
There are no lights on, inside nor outside. The door to the aft deckhouse is unlocked.
Inside, there is a small hallway with indistinct green painted walls to either side that stretches only 15 or so feet, and leads to a perpendicular hallway
>>194104
"Sure you wouldn't have"
Blackheel looks at Posey with a degree of annoyance and skepticism, like a child hearing stories told by his grandfather and doubtful of their veracity, or like a man listening to the fishing stories of his coworker.
>>194102
"Oh, you're a silly...." She leans forward and looks at the sun emblem. She is silenced by it, breathing out, then back in, slowly.
"Oh yes, he wouldn't have liked that. He wouldn't have liked that at all. i haven't seen a sun like that... In a while now..."
"Sure you wouldn't have"
Blackheel looks at Posey with a degree of annoyance and skepticism, like a child hearing stories told by his grandfather and doubtful of their veracity, or like a man listening to the fishing stories of his coworker.
>>194102
"Oh, you're a silly...." She leans forward and looks at the sun emblem. She is silenced by it, breathing out, then back in, slowly.
"Oh yes, he wouldn't have liked that. He wouldn't have liked that at all. i haven't seen a sun like that... In a while now..."
>>194129
Vir nods solmnely.
"It's the day star. I followed it from my homeland to this land, which we shall call... This land."
She looks out the window.
"I learnt at my home away from home that the equine egalitarians had told their statue of the sun goddess a joke so funny she lost her head."
Vir sat down in a chair at the table.
"The body without the head just did what felt right, and joined the rebellion. The head without the body didn't have anything to live for anymore, so it jumped off a bridge.
"I had to dive a thousand leagues and fight a furious amoeba. When I brought it back me and my sister's rejoiced with tea and biscuits.
"I set off after the body thinking a headless horse can't have walked too far. Expecting to find it repeatedly headbutt a wall. Sadly, it was not to be and I had to seek the aid of her assassins, the poners who dip their hooves in ink to hide her blood on them.
Vir turned her head to the mare.
"That's why I'm looking for that colt of yours. Its suspected that he fraternized with the body, saying something along the lines of, 'Sweet Celestia, you make me rock hard.'"
Vir nods solmnely.
"It's the day star. I followed it from my homeland to this land, which we shall call... This land."
She looks out the window.
"I learnt at my home away from home that the equine egalitarians had told their statue of the sun goddess a joke so funny she lost her head."
Vir sat down in a chair at the table.
"The body without the head just did what felt right, and joined the rebellion. The head without the body didn't have anything to live for anymore, so it jumped off a bridge.
"I had to dive a thousand leagues and fight a furious amoeba. When I brought it back me and my sister's rejoiced with tea and biscuits.
"I set off after the body thinking a headless horse can't have walked too far. Expecting to find it repeatedly headbutt a wall. Sadly, it was not to be and I had to seek the aid of her assassins, the poners who dip their hooves in ink to hide her blood on them.
Vir turned her head to the mare.
"That's why I'm looking for that colt of yours. Its suspected that he fraternized with the body, saying something along the lines of, 'Sweet Celestia, you make me rock hard.'"
>>194129
Posey puffs out her chest proudly as she passes, her perfect white chest fluff fluttering in the sea wind.
>>194128
Posey checks for any magical ammo in the guns before proceeding down to the hallway, furtively peering around the corner. She looks left and then right for any signs of creatures or other things of note, comfortable with her darkvision. She waits until she has made sure the coast is clear before waving the rest of the herd through.
Posey puffs out her chest proudly as she passes, her perfect white chest fluff fluttering in the sea wind.
>>194128
Posey checks for any magical ammo in the guns before proceeding down to the hallway, furtively peering around the corner. She looks left and then right for any signs of creatures or other things of note, comfortable with her darkvision. She waits until she has made sure the coast is clear before waving the rest of the herd through.
>>194131
>Posey checks for any magical ammo in the guns
Is the implication supposed to be that Posey will carry a 65 pound 4-inch shell if it is magical but will leave it behind if it is non-magical?
These are not machine guns. The 4-inch gun is an artillery piece weighing two and a half tons, larger in size than the main gun of a tank (but smaller in size than the main gun of a destroyer or heavy field artillery pieces) designed to shoot a 33-pound projectile accurately out to 3 and a half miles. The two 20-millimeter cannons are automatic canons that shoot several hundred explosive projectiles each four times the size of a .50 caliber bullet. The 4-inch gun is not directly on the deck but is raised on a platform above, and may move in most directions by a hydralic pump that isn't working at the moment. It may elevate straight up, but also below the horizon to allow it to shoot at submarines and fast attack craft. The two 20mm canons are not on the deck house, but platforms down and behind the main deckhouse on separate platforms. The guns are loaded, yes, but they are fed by an elevator from a magazine located below them. No, the ammunition is not magical. You have to take a detour to go on a set of stairs to go above the deckhouse to get to them.
>Posey checks for any magical ammo in the guns
Is the implication supposed to be that Posey will carry a 65 pound 4-inch shell if it is magical but will leave it behind if it is non-magical?
These are not machine guns. The 4-inch gun is an artillery piece weighing two and a half tons, larger in size than the main gun of a tank (but smaller in size than the main gun of a destroyer or heavy field artillery pieces) designed to shoot a 33-pound projectile accurately out to 3 and a half miles. The two 20-millimeter cannons are automatic canons that shoot several hundred explosive projectiles each four times the size of a .50 caliber bullet. The 4-inch gun is not directly on the deck but is raised on a platform above, and may move in most directions by a hydralic pump that isn't working at the moment. It may elevate straight up, but also below the horizon to allow it to shoot at submarines and fast attack craft. The two 20mm canons are not on the deck house, but platforms down and behind the main deckhouse on separate platforms. The guns are loaded, yes, but they are fed by an elevator from a magazine located below them. No, the ammunition is not magical. You have to take a detour to go on a set of stairs to go above the deckhouse to get to them.
>>194131
There are three dorm rooms, each with bunk beds. The beds and rooms vary from complete messes with even mattresses on the floor and clothes strewn about, to made up beds and clean rooms. The fourth room is an infirmary, with an empty bed and open, raided cabinets.
There are no creatures present, no locked doors, no lights turned on, no blood, and no bullet holes. There is a set of stairs going deeper into the ship.
There are three dorm rooms, each with bunk beds. The beds and rooms vary from complete messes with even mattresses on the floor and clothes strewn about, to made up beds and clean rooms. The fourth room is an infirmary, with an empty bed and open, raided cabinets.
There are no creatures present, no locked doors, no lights turned on, no blood, and no bullet holes. There is a set of stairs going deeper into the ship.
1769996603.png (361.1 KB, 640x536, look-ma-im-a-intimidating-pony-now-v0-yqsrfb8rg4df1.png)
>>194132
>Is the implication supposed to be that Posey will carry a 65 pound 4-inch shell if it is magical but will leave it behind if it is non-magical?
Posey would take it if it were magic.
>>194133
>The beds and rooms vary from complete messes with even mattresses on the floor and clothes strewn about, to made up beds and clean rooms. The fourth room is an infirmary, with an empty bed and open, raided cabinets.
"Somepony has been here. I suspect the pirates in the torpedo boat. The wounded griffin likely ransacked the infirmary for healing potions in desperation before moving on..."
>no blood
"And it seems he was successful, having stopped bleeding before he left here. I doubt there is anything left of value here, but those of you who are desperate enough could check." She says, strutting into the hallway
She proceeds towards the stairs, looking down the passageway as she makes way for the herd to enter the hallway and search the rooms if they do please.
I may as well roll to Search too, since I'm the one with darkvision. Posey searches the rooms for any items of value or interest.
[1d20+5 = (1+5) = 6]
I assume Monstro cannot squeeze into the deckhouse. Posey orders it to guard the entry behind them, and to slam its body on the deck to make noise in case a fight breaks out so that the herd will know they are being followed.
Pic unrelated
>Is the implication supposed to be that Posey will carry a 65 pound 4-inch shell if it is magical but will leave it behind if it is non-magical?
Posey would take it if it were magic.
>>194133
>The beds and rooms vary from complete messes with even mattresses on the floor and clothes strewn about, to made up beds and clean rooms. The fourth room is an infirmary, with an empty bed and open, raided cabinets.
"Somepony has been here. I suspect the pirates in the torpedo boat. The wounded griffin likely ransacked the infirmary for healing potions in desperation before moving on..."
>no blood
"And it seems he was successful, having stopped bleeding before he left here. I doubt there is anything left of value here, but those of you who are desperate enough could check." She says, strutting into the hallway
She proceeds towards the stairs, looking down the passageway as she makes way for the herd to enter the hallway and search the rooms if they do please.
I may as well roll to Search too, since I'm the one with darkvision. Posey searches the rooms for any items of value or interest.
[1d20+5 = (1+5) = 6]
I assume Monstro cannot squeeze into the deckhouse. Posey orders it to guard the entry behind them, and to slam its body on the deck to make noise in case a fight breaks out so that the herd will know they are being followed.
Pic unrelated
>>194134
>Nat 1 as she's walking towards the stairs in the dark
"W-woah!"
*Slips* BOINK CRASH "Owie..."
>Nat 1 as she's walking towards the stairs in the dark
"W-woah!"
*Slips* BOINK CRASH "Owie..."
>>194133
Search: Silver knows it's a long shot, but he checks to see if the ransackers left behind any combat drugs. Adrenaline, methamphetamine, etc.
[1d20 = 2]
Search: Silver knows it's a long shot, but he checks to see if the ransackers left behind any combat drugs. Adrenaline, methamphetamine, etc.
[1d20 = 2]
>>194134
>Posey would take it if it were magic.
It's a fuck off artillery shell. Either you want to use it as an IED or you don't want it at all. It's too big to carry. Also if there were magic shells, they'd probably be in the magazine below deck.
Posey does not find very much at all.
Monstro cannot fit inside the ship.
>>194135
clack
tick tick
tap tap tap
>>194136
Not even coffee or cigarettes
>Posey would take it if it were magic.
It's a fuck off artillery shell. Either you want to use it as an IED or you don't want it at all. It's too big to carry. Also if there were magic shells, they'd probably be in the magazine below deck.
Posey does not find very much at all.
Monstro cannot fit inside the ship.
>>194135
clack
tick tick
tap tap tap
>>194136
Not even coffee or cigarettes
>>194138
Oddly enough, Silver doesn't feel too bad about the lack of cigarettes. He hasn't felt the need to light up since becoming young again, though some coffee would be nice about now for himself and the others.
Survival: Somewhere in the darkness, a tongue is flicked out to try to pick out scents of hostiles.
[1d20+11 = (14+11) = 25]
Oddly enough, Silver doesn't feel too bad about the lack of cigarettes. He hasn't felt the need to light up since becoming young again, though some coffee would be nice about now for himself and the others.
Survival: Somewhere in the darkness, a tongue is flicked out to try to pick out scents of hostiles.
[1d20+11 = (14+11) = 25]
>>194138
If u find my post unrealisticly long and obnoxious, then I can write something simpler.
Vir slaps the old bat (not the one from before) and yells like batman, "Where are they?!"
"When did you see a sun like this last?"
Or something like that. ^^
I don't wanna make it too annoying for you.
If u find my post unrealisticly long and obnoxious, then I can write something simpler.
"When did you see a sun like this last?"
Or something like that. ^^
I don't wanna make it too annoying for you.
Roll initiative, guys. Seaponies are boarding the SSRS Kostroma. They be plunderin' you landlubbers clean, argh matey! Also, ahoy.
Meta note: This is a kill or be killed kinda encounter. Let blood spill! ^^
Meta note: This is a kill or be killed kinda encounter. Let blood spill! ^^
"Oh dear, look at me, flat-footed and prone at the bottom of these stairs, isolated from my party. I sure do hope some kind of horrifying monstrosity does not rush to the noise I just made and lunge out of the shadows at the edge of my infravision to attack me while I am vulnerable... I might lose my composure."
>>194246
This is an actual invitation to prompt serious, immersive, fear-based roleplay in the way DM expects based on whatever situation unfolds. Idk why I phrased it like a cheesy porno intro when I meant to say "I'm ready to take things seriously now", but multi-leveled irony is one hell of a drug.
This is an actual invitation to prompt serious, immersive, fear-based roleplay in the way DM expects based on whatever situation unfolds. Idk why I phrased it like a cheesy porno intro when I meant to say "I'm ready to take things seriously now", but multi-leveled irony is one hell of a drug.
I may not be able to play comfortably for about a week or so due to travel. I will try to check in anyway. If you can proceed without me, please do so and simply assume that Posey helps out in whatever way she can without expending spell spots.
My apologies for the inconvenience.
My apologies for the inconvenience.
>>194246
When I first saw this post, I was going to write something like the following:
Posey hears a clop, clop, clop growing slightly louder as she hears the sound of hooves clanking down the metal stairs. The sound pauses next to her, then continues. Blackheel comes into her peripheral vision, looking down toward her as he walks into the room.
“Honestly? Ask me later. When we are free of all of this mess, and can have time alone together.” He walks past into the room. More clopping, and Stainnd follows, though he does not stop to speak to her.
This would have been followed by a description of the contents of the room. The problem with this response is that something said in OOC
>these weeks long hiatuses are destroying my immersion
Is all too true. It would make more sense to back up the action
>>194248
> Idk why I phrased it like a cheesy porno intro
Yes you do
When I first saw this post, I was going to write something like the following:
Posey hears a clop, clop, clop growing slightly louder as she hears the sound of hooves clanking down the metal stairs. The sound pauses next to her, then continues. Blackheel comes into her peripheral vision, looking down toward her as he walks into the room.
“Honestly? Ask me later. When we are free of all of this mess, and can have time alone together.” He walks past into the room. More clopping, and Stainnd follows, though he does not stop to speak to her.
This would have been followed by a description of the contents of the room. The problem with this response is that something said in OOC
>these weeks long hiatuses are destroying my immersion
Is all too true. It would make more sense to back up the action
>>194248
> Idk why I phrased it like a cheesy porno intro
Yes you do
>>194263
>Is all too true. It would make more sense to back up the action
How far are we looking? I'd prefer if we have only a brief recap of "last time..." so we don't lose too much time.
>Is all too true. It would make more sense to back up the action
How far are we looking? I'd prefer if we have only a brief recap of "last time..." so we don't lose too much time.
>>194263
If it were possible for Posey's blood run any colder, it certainly would have as she realizes that she was being observed, the embarrassment worse than any monster that might have kept out of the darkness.
>would make more sense to back up the action
What do you mean by that?
If it were possible for Posey's blood run any colder, it certainly would have as she realizes that she was being observed, the embarrassment worse than any monster that might have kept out of the darkness.
>would make more sense to back up the action
What do you mean by that?
>>194265
continues scrunching
>>194268
What I meant by that was that after a long hiatus, the atmosphere needs to be reestablished. This takes or or two long posts to describe the sights, sounds, and other aspects of the environment. Ideally there should be two or three posts for the feeling to sink in, and then begin action. Or at the very least, the lead up to the action should not begin in the same post or at the same time as the reintroduction to the scene. The problem is that the party is entering into a new room, possibly one of only four before they reach the boiler, inclusive of the boiler room itself. Action can’t begin immediately in the room and the atmosphere be reestablished, nor would there be any time or room to build tension. Obviously not every room can or even should have any kind of action, but allowing the room to at least have the possibility of maybe not being empty like the last one is, I think, desirable. So I wanted to go back to the previous room to do the reintroduction, so that action could happen in the lower room, or at least, that the players should have some fear or concern or suspicion that action may occur in the lower room, and they don’t already know it to be empty.
continues scrunching
>>194268
What I meant by that was that after a long hiatus, the atmosphere needs to be reestablished. This takes or or two long posts to describe the sights, sounds, and other aspects of the environment. Ideally there should be two or three posts for the feeling to sink in, and then begin action. Or at the very least, the lead up to the action should not begin in the same post or at the same time as the reintroduction to the scene. The problem is that the party is entering into a new room, possibly one of only four before they reach the boiler, inclusive of the boiler room itself. Action can’t begin immediately in the room and the atmosphere be reestablished, nor would there be any time or room to build tension. Obviously not every room can or even should have any kind of action, but allowing the room to at least have the possibility of maybe not being empty like the last one is, I think, desirable. So I wanted to go back to the previous room to do the reintroduction, so that action could happen in the lower room, or at least, that the players should have some fear or concern or suspicion that action may occur in the lower room, and they don’t already know it to be empty.
>>194272
I second this. Two or three posts is nothing and they'll grease the wheels, so to speak. When would you like to start?
I second this. Two or three posts is nothing and they'll grease the wheels, so to speak. When would you like to start?
The fog that for so long had blanketed the island and smothered the field of view has retreated, if only somewhat, and instead forms a low hanging cloud that hides all light of the moon and stars. Should some creature look over to port, past the midship superstructure and towards the freighter's bow, they could see as far ahead as to the bow gun deck some 300 feet, illuminated by the dim and dying flood light atop the forward mast. But this orange and red glow is visible only past a haze, a white haze that from this distance looks almost like looking at the bow through fogged glasses. Or it would, were it not for the sheets of small, slowly moving raindrops that likewise crowd the field of view at far distances.
The bow is the only direction any one may see far. To port and starboard, and to the stern, there is only blackness. The bottoms of white tufted clouds sometimes dip into the field of view, reflecting the orange-yellow light, but not always, and they move out of view swiftly enough. Mostly the sky is just another dimension of black. To port, occasionally a small light of a cigarette lighter, or a flashlight will shine from the deck of the torpedo boat, and always a weak light shines through the dirty and half-blinded windows of the pilot house. They illuminate the black painted deck, the green wheelhouse, the grey sides of the freighter, and green-blue waves next to both vessels. But these lights only do so much to break up the blackness of the night. When any party member moves away from the side of the ship, and further onto the deck, the distant ocean becomes one with the licorice black sky, as does even the painted steel of the ship's railing.
The fog has retreated but it is not gone, and the surest sign is that the island shore, presumably only a third of a mile away - hopefully still only a third of a mile away - is completely invisible from the ship. Surely some activity of the GRU, be it the flashlights of search parties, campfires, or... something would shine through the darkness. It does not. Something must be obscuring their activities on the island from view. The Kostroma and the torpedo boat next it are alone in the night. Or at least, they seem to be.
But the party is not concerned with the horizon, even if what is beyond sight will soon enough concern them. Their concern is the aft deckhouse before them. The flood light on the aft side of the midship deckhouse, as well as the light atop the aft mast, are off. Only the silhouette outlining the stern of the ship, the aft deckhouse, and the gun and its platform above the aft deckhouse are visible against the black sky, when even that much can be discerned. But under the narrow cone of directed light from a flashlight, more can be seen. Little pools of water that trickle and flow towards the sides of the ship atop the dark-vanished hardwood deck, and still more small puddles of dark liquid. An open cargo hold revealing only a black, gaping rectangular opening in the deck. A crane lowered from the aft mast. A door cracked open at the entrance of the aft deckhouse. And droplets of falling rain reflecting the light everywhere the light points.
The wind picks up, coming as it often does in rain-laden gusts that roll over the hill of which the Kostroma is presumably still in the leeward, and bites at the wet fur and jackets of the party members. It creates the perception, if not the reality, of freezing temperatures that are one more inconvenience to ponies, griffins and friends who are surely already exhausted and tired from the day's events. The wind blows at the ears before just as quickly calming down, and small waves hit the side of the grounded vessel. But the waves are timid, calmed by the confines of the harbor, and even the sound of the wind does only so much to interfere with the calm of the night. The rain is too soft to make a sound as it settles upon every surface. Chatter from creatures atop the torpedo boat, or even in the boarding party, sometimes breaks through the silence and the wind. The clatter of a single wave moving with determination into the harbor overpowers the sound of so many of its smaller brethren. It must be the tide rising as it enters the harbor. It is this wave that is the best evidence that the Kostroma is still in its harbor only twenty miles removed from the mainland and not transported by some malign or mysterious will through a portal to some dimension where it is isolated in space and time.
The smell of salt water dominates. Salt, and the stinging smell of diesel fuel, though it is harder to perceive here. Most may not smell it at all.
The bow is the only direction any one may see far. To port and starboard, and to the stern, there is only blackness. The bottoms of white tufted clouds sometimes dip into the field of view, reflecting the orange-yellow light, but not always, and they move out of view swiftly enough. Mostly the sky is just another dimension of black. To port, occasionally a small light of a cigarette lighter, or a flashlight will shine from the deck of the torpedo boat, and always a weak light shines through the dirty and half-blinded windows of the pilot house. They illuminate the black painted deck, the green wheelhouse, the grey sides of the freighter, and green-blue waves next to both vessels. But these lights only do so much to break up the blackness of the night. When any party member moves away from the side of the ship, and further onto the deck, the distant ocean becomes one with the licorice black sky, as does even the painted steel of the ship's railing.
The fog has retreated but it is not gone, and the surest sign is that the island shore, presumably only a third of a mile away - hopefully still only a third of a mile away - is completely invisible from the ship. Surely some activity of the GRU, be it the flashlights of search parties, campfires, or... something would shine through the darkness. It does not. Something must be obscuring their activities on the island from view. The Kostroma and the torpedo boat next it are alone in the night. Or at least, they seem to be.
But the party is not concerned with the horizon, even if what is beyond sight will soon enough concern them. Their concern is the aft deckhouse before them. The flood light on the aft side of the midship deckhouse, as well as the light atop the aft mast, are off. Only the silhouette outlining the stern of the ship, the aft deckhouse, and the gun and its platform above the aft deckhouse are visible against the black sky, when even that much can be discerned. But under the narrow cone of directed light from a flashlight, more can be seen. Little pools of water that trickle and flow towards the sides of the ship atop the dark-vanished hardwood deck, and still more small puddles of dark liquid. An open cargo hold revealing only a black, gaping rectangular opening in the deck. A crane lowered from the aft mast. A door cracked open at the entrance of the aft deckhouse. And droplets of falling rain reflecting the light everywhere the light points.
The wind picks up, coming as it often does in rain-laden gusts that roll over the hill of which the Kostroma is presumably still in the leeward, and bites at the wet fur and jackets of the party members. It creates the perception, if not the reality, of freezing temperatures that are one more inconvenience to ponies, griffins and friends who are surely already exhausted and tired from the day's events. The wind blows at the ears before just as quickly calming down, and small waves hit the side of the grounded vessel. But the waves are timid, calmed by the confines of the harbor, and even the sound of the wind does only so much to interfere with the calm of the night. The rain is too soft to make a sound as it settles upon every surface. Chatter from creatures atop the torpedo boat, or even in the boarding party, sometimes breaks through the silence and the wind. The clatter of a single wave moving with determination into the harbor overpowers the sound of so many of its smaller brethren. It must be the tide rising as it enters the harbor. It is this wave that is the best evidence that the Kostroma is still in its harbor only twenty miles removed from the mainland and not transported by some malign or mysterious will through a portal to some dimension where it is isolated in space and time.
The smell of salt water dominates. Salt, and the stinging smell of diesel fuel, though it is harder to perceive here. Most may not smell it at all.
1774581400.png (916.8 KB, 3569x2214, d810i7z-5702b9ed-f32d-498f-ba85-0cd05a8be08c.png)
Hooray, I knew check-in my phone and 11:00 PM would be worth it.
>cigarette lighter
"No smoking until the oil is cleaned up!" Posey shouts
>lights go out
Posey pauses, alarmed by this development
"Either the generator on this ship has faltered, or it has been sabotaged. The only way to tell will be to investigate. Beware, the monsters summoned by the intruder can likely see in the dark, but meeting them down there barely more dangerous than waiting for them to pick us off up here..."
She gives a raspy huff and raises her head sticking out her chest, seemingly not bothered by the frigid winds. Despite her pose, a subtle hint of concern creeps across her stoic expression, betraying cautious uncertainty over how to proceed.
"... This is hostile territory. The enemy will surely be waiting to strike from around corners. Those who know the ship, keep speaking. The better we know the lower deck, the better prepared we will be for the eventual ambush. My nightvision spell can guide us forward, so stay beside me..." she says softly, slowly walking towards the center of the ship
>cigarette lighter
"No smoking until the oil is cleaned up!" Posey shouts
>lights go out
Posey pauses, alarmed by this development
"Either the generator on this ship has faltered, or it has been sabotaged. The only way to tell will be to investigate. Beware, the monsters summoned by the intruder can likely see in the dark, but meeting them down there barely more dangerous than waiting for them to pick us off up here..."
She gives a raspy huff and raises her head sticking out her chest, seemingly not bothered by the frigid winds. Despite her pose, a subtle hint of concern creeps across her stoic expression, betraying cautious uncertainty over how to proceed.
"... This is hostile territory. The enemy will surely be waiting to strike from around corners. Those who know the ship, keep speaking. The better we know the lower deck, the better prepared we will be for the eventual ambush. My nightvision spell can guide us forward, so stay beside me..." she says softly, slowly walking towards the center of the ship
The door to the aft deckhouse opens with a pull. Inside no light is on. Only darkness, and what is illuminated by what lights may be provided. The white paint of the steel walls has chipped away in some locations, though mostly it holds, darkened to an off-white by years of dirt, the marks of rubber soled boots, and soot from cigarettes and who knows what other sources. The floor is mostly dry, wetted in a few locations by tracks of what seem to be claw prints. Cabins dominate most of this level, deck three, of the aft deckhouse, which are on either side of a hallway that runs perpendicular to the entry hallway. At the end of the hallway is a set of metal stairs that go downwards. While the door is open, air moves through past the party and towards the blackness of the lower level.
Inside of the cabins, some beds are made. Some have covers pulled back and disheveled. And some have the sheets completely removed and mattresses cast on the floor. There are also lockers. Some are closed. Some are open. And some have clothing strewn onto the floor. One of the rooms - the one down the hallway to the far left of the entryway and the ship's starboard - is the infirmary. The bed is disturbed with the sheets partly pulled off. A couple cabinets are open. A few little brown glass bottles are empty and first aid kits are open. There are small rust-colored stains on the floor.
When the door is closed, only the hint of whistling wind can be heard, and this quiets deeper inside of the deckhouse. The same is true of the waves, which can be scarcely heard at all. Once or twice, the creaking of bending metal can be heard, and then the whole floor can be felt to push against your hooves and claws, pushing you upwards, before falling slightly. The vibrations or sounds of fans, or the buzzing of electronics that ought to drown out the sound of silence in any large vehicle are conspicuously absent. Instead, the party can only hear silence, occasionally broken by unknown sounds bleeding out from beyond the dark lower floor.
But of course, there is no sound of silence. Instead, there is always that dominating sound. That same sound, or rather pair of sounds, that have haunted the party since they first arrived onto the island. It's a sound most similar to a muffling effect, like being under water, combined with a high-pitched ring underneath similar in tone to tinnitus. It could be dismissed as the lingering effects of the machine guns earlier, were it the first time tonight it were heard. Instead, it is all too familiar. Two things, however, are different. One, the ringing sound is oddly quieter here than in the more quiet moments on the beach, or even on the deck. And second, the "muffled" sounds are less the generalized noise that has been so long heard, but are something closer to recognizable. Like the sounds of people talking heard through walls.
Inside of the cabins, some beds are made. Some have covers pulled back and disheveled. And some have the sheets completely removed and mattresses cast on the floor. There are also lockers. Some are closed. Some are open. And some have clothing strewn onto the floor. One of the rooms - the one down the hallway to the far left of the entryway and the ship's starboard - is the infirmary. The bed is disturbed with the sheets partly pulled off. A couple cabinets are open. A few little brown glass bottles are empty and first aid kits are open. There are small rust-colored stains on the floor.
When the door is closed, only the hint of whistling wind can be heard, and this quiets deeper inside of the deckhouse. The same is true of the waves, which can be scarcely heard at all. Once or twice, the creaking of bending metal can be heard, and then the whole floor can be felt to push against your hooves and claws, pushing you upwards, before falling slightly. The vibrations or sounds of fans, or the buzzing of electronics that ought to drown out the sound of silence in any large vehicle are conspicuously absent. Instead, the party can only hear silence, occasionally broken by unknown sounds bleeding out from beyond the dark lower floor.
But of course, there is no sound of silence. Instead, there is always that dominating sound. That same sound, or rather pair of sounds, that have haunted the party since they first arrived onto the island. It's a sound most similar to a muffling effect, like being under water, combined with a high-pitched ring underneath similar in tone to tinnitus. It could be dismissed as the lingering effects of the machine guns earlier, were it the first time tonight it were heard. Instead, it is all too familiar. Two things, however, are different. One, the ringing sound is oddly quieter here than in the more quiet moments on the beach, or even on the deck. And second, the "muffled" sounds are less the generalized noise that has been so long heard, but are something closer to recognizable. Like the sounds of people talking heard through walls.
>>194290
As Posey looks around her, in the little bubble where her eyes may pierce the veil of darkness, Posey realizes one thing, and one thing very well. Should the GRU appear through the fog with their long-range guns aimed and readied; should Our Fellow Traveler send another one of its "seraphs," or some other flying creation from beyond her bubble; should some pirate or Light Water himself snipe at her and her posse through the windows of the midship deckhouse - then Posey will have relatively little time to react. Posey's magical and physical talents are more favorable to her in closed spaces than on deck.
As Posey looks around her, in the little bubble where her eyes may pierce the veil of darkness, Posey realizes one thing, and one thing very well. Should the GRU appear through the fog with their long-range guns aimed and readied; should Our Fellow Traveler send another one of its "seraphs," or some other flying creation from beyond her bubble; should some pirate or Light Water himself snipe at her and her posse through the windows of the midship deckhouse - then Posey will have relatively little time to react. Posey's magical and physical talents are more favorable to her in closed spaces than on deck.
>>194289
>>194291
Silver grimaces, a mixture of the cold and the utter blackness of the hostile location they're about to enter getting under his floof-covered skin, but he stands back up straight and resolute, knowing that this is what he was born for. He is a warrior, a soldier, and just like his ancestors he will stand firm against the icy chill.
Kira, meanwhile, while having been born a Hunter in her clan, is more out of her element here. Salt and sea are a far cry from the tall grass and acacia tree which she finds at home in, hiding from both predator and prey. She grips her bow tightly and reassuringly, and continues to offer up thanks for the protection Ouroboros is granting her from the cold in this frozen wasteland. "Well, we're raw-dogging this ship, then...I don't remember it being this spooky when I was hiding in that crate of bananas..."
As they travel down the metal-clad hallways, Kira flicks her tongue in the air, trying to catch scents but mostly getting metal and oil. When they pass near to the infirmary she does catch the whiff of what the rust-colored stain is: blood.
>>194291
Silver grimaces, a mixture of the cold and the utter blackness of the hostile location they're about to enter getting under his floof-covered skin, but he stands back up straight and resolute, knowing that this is what he was born for. He is a warrior, a soldier, and just like his ancestors he will stand firm against the icy chill.
Kira, meanwhile, while having been born a Hunter in her clan, is more out of her element here. Salt and sea are a far cry from the tall grass and acacia tree which she finds at home in, hiding from both predator and prey. She grips her bow tightly and reassuringly, and continues to offer up thanks for the protection Ouroboros is granting her from the cold in this frozen wasteland. "Well, we're raw-dogging this ship, then...I don't remember it being this spooky when I was hiding in that crate of bananas..."
As they travel down the metal-clad hallways, Kira flicks her tongue in the air, trying to catch scents but mostly getting metal and oil. When they pass near to the infirmary she does catch the whiff of what the rust-colored stain is: blood.
>>194289
>>194291
Cavaliere's motions seem more deliberate than usual. One may ascribe this to fatigue, but the more perceptive will notice that he is paying close attention to his surroundings, listening to the air as he avoids the pools. "The creatures here left in a hurry, and I suggest we don't linger any longer than needed," he states softly. "Some of the lockers are sealed; if you want to break into them, I recommend being quick and quiet."
>>194290
"You are the only one of us with that uncanny ability. If we're not to stumble our way through this place, you have to describe everything to us. A light in a closed room isn't particularly dangerous regardless."
>>194293
Maybe Kira wouldn't know what "raw-dogging" is
>>194291
Cavaliere's motions seem more deliberate than usual. One may ascribe this to fatigue, but the more perceptive will notice that he is paying close attention to his surroundings, listening to the air as he avoids the pools. "The creatures here left in a hurry, and I suggest we don't linger any longer than needed," he states softly. "Some of the lockers are sealed; if you want to break into them, I recommend being quick and quiet."
>>194290
"You are the only one of us with that uncanny ability. If we're not to stumble our way through this place, you have to describe everything to us. A light in a closed room isn't particularly dangerous regardless."
>>194293
Maybe Kira wouldn't know what "raw-dogging" is
>>194294
Kira looks to the tip of her tail. "Well, I'm not really trained in it, but I could see if I could hit the tumblers."
You'd have to ask her about it to find out.
Kira looks to the tip of her tail. "Well, I'm not really trained in it, but I could see if I could hit the tumblers."
You'd have to ask her about it to find out.
>>194292
As a crypt-dwelling monstrosity and touch-spell specialist, Posey realizes this as her instincts kick in, and makes a more resolute pose, fondling her sword handle ready to draw it
"Come quickly. We are sitting ducks if we stay in the open." she says to the party, gliding through the aft deckhouse
>>194291
Nice description
>always that dominating sound
"That damn noise... What could it mean?" Posey grimaces, flickering her sensitive vampony ears
As the party occultist, Posey puts the gears in her head to work Jimmy Neutron style trying to figure out what this sound effect is. She pauses and closes her eyes to concentrate before she asks herself the following questions:
Is this a real physical sound, or an ambient psychic/telepathic noise?
What threats might it pose to Posey or her allies?
If so, how might she counter them?
Can she discern the source of the noise?
Could she discern any useful messages or information from the sounds like muffled speaking?
Arcana (knowledge check)
[1d20+11 = (15+11) = 26]
Listen (to make out the message/noise)
[1d20+3 = (17+3) = 20]
Sense Motive (to discern intent)
[1d20+1 = (16+1) = 17]
Concentration (to focus on any mental affects)
[1d20+13 = (8+13) = 21]
I guess I'll also roll Search to investigate the room
[1d20+5 = (10+5) = 15]
As a crypt-dwelling monstrosity and touch-spell specialist, Posey realizes this as her instincts kick in, and makes a more resolute pose, fondling her sword handle ready to draw it
"Come quickly. We are sitting ducks if we stay in the open." she says to the party, gliding through the aft deckhouse
>>194291
Nice description
>always that dominating sound
"That damn noise... What could it mean?" Posey grimaces, flickering her sensitive vampony ears
As the party occultist, Posey puts the gears in her head to work Jimmy Neutron style trying to figure out what this sound effect is. She pauses and closes her eyes to concentrate before she asks herself the following questions:
Is this a real physical sound, or an ambient psychic/telepathic noise?
What threats might it pose to Posey or her allies?
If so, how might she counter them?
Can she discern the source of the noise?
Could she discern any useful messages or information from the sounds like muffled speaking?
Arcana (knowledge check)
[1d20+11 = (15+11) = 26]
Listen (to make out the message/noise)
[1d20+3 = (17+3) = 20]
Sense Motive (to discern intent)
[1d20+1 = (16+1) = 17]
Concentration (to focus on any mental affects)
[1d20+13 = (8+13) = 21]
I guess I'll also roll Search to investigate the room
[1d20+5 = (10+5) = 15]
>>194296
>Arcana
>Listen
>Sense
>Concentration
It sounds muffled - some more normal sound disrupted and disharmonized by some physical impediment, or failure of the senses. She seeks to hear with greater clarity. And what she hears....
She knows it by analogy. This is not the form that the music takes, mind you, but the form molded by Posey's mind so that she may understand through analogy.
A filly walks in a clearing in the forest gathering the flowers that grow wild, and the edible varieties of mushroom. She hears music coming from the tree line. It is of an older style, maybe known to her ancestors, but not often played by the old folk of the village. At least, not outdoors. She knows what it is. She sees silhouettes dancing round through the tree line. She moves closer, and her eyes confirm. The Fair Folk dance to the melody, a melody so harmonious and full of whimsy that the filly wishes only to lope in and join their circle, dancing with them under the sun and moonlight for all eternity as the mundane world passes through its cycles around them. One of the fair folk takes notice and looks back to her with its black eyes, offering a hoof. It beckons.
But Posey isn't like that little filly. She is not a youthful mare full of lust and wonder. She has not sought the beauty in things for many years. She is old and tired. tired of the world. Stressed and pushed by needs. And neither does the melody passively reflect the rhythmic revelry of the old ones. It calls to her. Promises to her. Promises that she too, may be a filly again, with youth and wander for new things. That she may see a world - a wonderous, new world, free of woe and envy. No need to prove who you are. You may have peace in being, little filly.
Take my hoof. That reflection you see in my black eyes isn't you as you are. It's you as you could be. As you should be. Full of love and wonder, and hardly a care. Come with me little filly. We shall dance under the light even as all the world withers away.
>Arcana
>Listen
>Sense
>Concentration
It sounds muffled - some more normal sound disrupted and disharmonized by some physical impediment, or failure of the senses. She seeks to hear with greater clarity. And what she hears....
She knows it by analogy. This is not the form that the music takes, mind you, but the form molded by Posey's mind so that she may understand through analogy.
A filly walks in a clearing in the forest gathering the flowers that grow wild, and the edible varieties of mushroom. She hears music coming from the tree line. It is of an older style, maybe known to her ancestors, but not often played by the old folk of the village. At least, not outdoors. She knows what it is. She sees silhouettes dancing round through the tree line. She moves closer, and her eyes confirm. The Fair Folk dance to the melody, a melody so harmonious and full of whimsy that the filly wishes only to lope in and join their circle, dancing with them under the sun and moonlight for all eternity as the mundane world passes through its cycles around them. One of the fair folk takes notice and looks back to her with its black eyes, offering a hoof. It beckons.
But Posey isn't like that little filly. She is not a youthful mare full of lust and wonder. She has not sought the beauty in things for many years. She is old and tired. tired of the world. Stressed and pushed by needs. And neither does the melody passively reflect the rhythmic revelry of the old ones. It calls to her. Promises to her. Promises that she too, may be a filly again, with youth and wander for new things. That she may see a world - a wonderous, new world, free of woe and envy. No need to prove who you are. You may have peace in being, little filly.
Take my hoof. That reflection you see in my black eyes isn't you as you are. It's you as you could be. As you should be. Full of love and wonder, and hardly a care. Come with me little filly. We shall dance under the light even as all the world withers away.
>>194297
Posey grimaces before shaking her head and biting her lower lip with her fangs to rid herself of the feeling, letting out a low pained hiss. She knows better than to engage with the voices, but that doesn't make it any more pleasant to resist.
"Keeping moving, everypony. Keep talking too if you can, about anything. The enemy will appear out of thin air when it feels like it, so being covert is less of a priority. Focus on anything but that noise." she says to the group
she turns to Blackheel
"Which way to the boiler?"
Posey grimaces before shaking her head and biting her lower lip with her fangs to rid herself of the feeling, letting out a low pained hiss. She knows better than to engage with the voices, but that doesn't make it any more pleasant to resist.
"Keeping moving, everypony. Keep talking too if you can, about anything. The enemy will appear out of thin air when it feels like it, so being covert is less of a priority. Focus on anything but that noise." she says to the group
she turns to Blackheel
"Which way to the boiler?"
>>194298
Kira sticks a hoof in her ear, turning it around as if to clean it out. "Yeah, that noise is annoying. I wonder if it's just a natural passive result of the Traveler's presence or if it's an ability the Traveler is actively using to try to make us all go insane. It's kinda like that thing the kirins use, that water torture thing where they hang a bucket above your head and let the water slowly drip onto you, except this is sound instead of water. Can you even call this sound? It's like it just bypasses my ears entirely to try to mess with my brain."
Silver tilts his head. "You are hearing something?"
Это место занято, Демон.
Kira sticks a hoof in her ear, turning it around as if to clean it out. "Yeah, that noise is annoying. I wonder if it's just a natural passive result of the Traveler's presence or if it's an ability the Traveler is actively using to try to make us all go insane. It's kinda like that thing the kirins use, that water torture thing where they hang a bucket above your head and let the water slowly drip onto you, except this is sound instead of water. Can you even call this sound? It's like it just bypasses my ears entirely to try to mess with my brain."
Silver tilts his head. "You are hearing something?"
Это место занято, Демон.
>>194298
Blackheel points his hoof down the corridor perpendicular to the ship, towards an open door that is on the left relative to Posey's perspective and offset to port relative to the ship. Posey can see metal steps going down, out of her field of view. She could feel - before the door was closed - a draft passing by, from outside and down, inwards, into the ship. And she can hear the call reverberate up the stairwell, and out the open door.
Blackheel points his hoof down the corridor perpendicular to the ship, towards an open door that is on the left relative to Posey's perspective and offset to port relative to the ship. Posey can see metal steps going down, out of her field of view. She could feel - before the door was closed - a draft passing by, from outside and down, inwards, into the ship. And she can hear the call reverberate up the stairwell, and out the open door.
>>194300
Posey slowly proceeds towards the door, checking for any tripwires before she moves through.
Posey slowly proceeds towards the door, checking for any tripwires before she moves through.
>>194300
Rolling basic perception for what she finds as she proceeds:
Spot
[1d20+3 = (4+3) = 7]
Listen
[1d20+3 = (10+3) = 13]
Rolling basic perception for what she finds as she proceeds:
Spot
[1d20+3 = (4+3) = 7]
Listen
[1d20+3 = (10+3) = 13]
>>194295
Cavaliere shines his flashlight over to one of the lockers.
"You could try one of them. When it comes to these locks you want to match the numbers that were used to set the lock. There is a mechanism inside and if you have patience and sensitive feeling, you can tell what the right combination is. Sophisticated locks can take years of practice, but these look simple enough for a beginner to try."
Cavaliere shines his flashlight over to one of the lockers.
"You could try one of them. When it comes to these locks you want to match the numbers that were used to set the lock. There is a mechanism inside and if you have patience and sensitive feeling, you can tell what the right combination is. Sophisticated locks can take years of practice, but these look simple enough for a beginner to try."
>>194303
Kira slithers over to the locker, inspecting it and especially the lock which keeps it shut. She holds her pendent with a hoof and it glows with a slight golden light, which she uses to look inside the lock with her keen snake eyes.
Open Lock: Using the very tip of her tail, Kira tries inserting it into the keyhole and turn the tumblers with it such that it unlocks.
[1d20+1 = (11+1) = 12]
Kira slithers over to the locker, inspecting it and especially the lock which keeps it shut. She holds her pendent with a hoof and it glows with a slight golden light, which she uses to look inside the lock with her keen snake eyes.
Open Lock: Using the very tip of her tail, Kira tries inserting it into the keyhole and turn the tumblers with it such that it unlocks.
[1d20+1 = (11+1) = 12]
>>194304
Her tail is just a bit too fat and not quite dexterous enough to move the tumblers. It does not open.
Her tail is just a bit too fat and not quite dexterous enough to move the tumblers. It does not open.
>>194305
Kira scrunches, and stares intently at the lock. She grabs onto the locker and tries to shake it back, forth, and around violently, thinking that maybe she can tumble the tumblers into position if she just adds a bit of percussive maintenance.
[1d20 = 11]
Kira scrunches, and stares intently at the lock. She grabs onto the locker and tries to shake it back, forth, and around violently, thinking that maybe she can tumble the tumblers into position if she just adds a bit of percussive maintenance.
[1d20 = 11]
>>194307
The snake becomes scrunchier, and she even lets out a "reeeeeee" as she shakes it a bit more for good measure. Eventually she halts the shaking and slumps down with legs crossed and face frowning. However, she looks up and raises an eyebrow as an idea crosses her mind. She stares intently at the lock, sticks her legs out towards it and moves them in circles, calling out, "In the name of Ouroboros I command you to open!"
There's no magic actually involved in this act and her pendent doesn't glow, it's not even certain if she even knows a spell to open locks with, but there's nothing wrong with just seeing if either the power of the mind can cause it to open or if the universe decides to give her a freebee.
[1d20 = 13]
The snake becomes scrunchier, and she even lets out a "reeeeeee" as she shakes it a bit more for good measure. Eventually she halts the shaking and slumps down with legs crossed and face frowning. However, she looks up and raises an eyebrow as an idea crosses her mind. She stares intently at the lock, sticks her legs out towards it and moves them in circles, calling out, "In the name of Ouroboros I command you to open!"
There's no magic actually involved in this act and her pendent doesn't glow, it's not even certain if she even knows a spell to open locks with, but there's nothing wrong with just seeing if either the power of the mind can cause it to open or if the universe decides to give her a freebee.
[1d20 = 13]
>>194309
flicks tongue indeed, as she pouts at the locker. "Well, you're no fun."
Strength: With a sigh, Kira sees if she can force the locker open through brute strength.
[1d20+3 = (14+3) = 17]
flicks tongue indeed, as she pouts at the locker. "Well, you're no fun."
Strength: With a sigh, Kira sees if she can force the locker open through brute strength.
[1d20+3 = (14+3) = 17]
>>194310
Kira slams against the locker. It bends and folds in odd ways, clearly damaged. It hurts to hit, as it must be made of steel. Kira is making quite a bit of noise doing this.
Kira slams against the locker. It bends and folds in odd ways, clearly damaged. It hurts to hit, as it must be made of steel. Kira is making quite a bit of noise doing this.
>>194313
Kira smiles at the griffons concern. She drapes the end of her tail around the pretty catbird's shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just this silly locker." She looks side to side as if someone close by is listening in on them, before leaning in towards Garv and whispering, "I think the Traveler put an evil hex on the locker to keep it from being opened."
Kira smiles at the griffons concern. She drapes the end of her tail around the pretty catbird's shoulders. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just this silly locker." She looks side to side as if someone close by is listening in on them, before leaning in towards Garv and whispering, "I think the Traveler put an evil hex on the locker to keep it from being opened."
Sorry, I've been busy.
We're trying to open a door?
Posey attempts to bisect the lock with her mind samurai style using iajutsu focus. She rapidly draws her sword and strikes, taking 10 on her focus rule.
Rolling sunder against it's AC (5?)
[1d20+7 = (10+7) = 17]
Damage
[1d8+5 = (2+5) = 7] [2d6 = 4]
We're trying to open a door?
Posey attempts to bisect the lock with her mind samurai style using iajutsu focus. She rapidly draws her sword and strikes, taking 10 on her focus rule.
Rolling sunder against it's AC (5?)
[1d20+7 = (10+7) = 17]
Damage
[1d8+5 = (2+5) = 7] [2d6 = 4]
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