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[Harry Baldman]

"Bloody useless little bastard," Mr. Bird mutters.

Keep working at that arrow. Not really anything else to do, is there?

[AoshimaMichio]

[1]
The deathclaw baby yanks the arrow out of one wing, trips, and drives it straight through the other wing.

Baby deathclaw did nothing of the sort. In fact, he's been hanging on warbeast's side with broken leg a while, so Ryan climbs up and complains how they let his dinner get away.

"Where did the crabman come anyway?"

[piecewise]

Dream drunken dino dreams.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0K-Z2H_8vo
I watched this last night very late when I was delirious and it was rather dreamy to me

"Hah! Did you think that would work?!"

Loot the spear still stuck in the warbeast. Swing it around a little to test if it has any special properties.

[6]
You use all your psychic mind bullet power to tear the harpoon out of the beast. It probably has some special powers but none that are immediately obvious.

"The Law of Improbable Unfortunate Occurrences dictates that you are the Comedic Relief, Mr. Bird! If i try to help you now, we'll both meet an unfortunate end. There, there, my fellow. We'll patch you up in the denouement.

Huh. I wonder - the Law of Numerous Mooks dictates that the lone opponent is, in fact, the Hero and will inevitably succeed against said Mooks. I suppose I, as Primary Antagonist, shall met my fate at the Climax, probably by falling dramatically off the warbeast. Fortunately for me, I am the Unkillable Antagonist, and as such, will claw my way out of the rubble in the closing credits. Unless I escape early while the Dragon meets his fate. Which of you is The Dragon?"

Sebastian believes that Mr. bird's wounds are "just flesh wounds" and as such, rather harmless. Meanwhile, he returns to the crew quarters rubble and fetches his handball.

Handball? You may have to remind me.

Hand the group the note? Nah, that's just going with the other ones I have in case I have to use the shell of wishing. I forget what exactly I was writing on, but I had paper from something, I know. And I started with that pen from the beginning of the game.

"You make the mistake of assuming this is a story, my glass orb. It is not. Stories have arcs, rises and falls, beginnings and ends. These heavens are infinite in scope. There is no room for an end to my story, and therefore yours, in the vast infinitudes of this plane. The only absolute, the only thing of any tangible value, is the one I will inevitably grasp at the center. On my own blood, my own self I swore this. That could perhaps be a story. But not this obstacle. It has already been forgotten.

Continue the current path away from the crab thing for about a minute more and then see if it's following us.

Oh, I should probably help the bird. Go do that.

[5] You free mr. bird.

[1]
The deathclaw baby yanks the arrow out of one wing, trips, and drives it straight through the other wing.

Baby deathclaw did nothing of the sort. In fact, he's been hanging on warbeast's side with broken leg a while, so Ryan climbs up and complains how they let his dinner get away.

"Where did the crabman come anyway?"

Sorry, brain fart I suppose. As such, I'm gonna let you climb up, no rolls needed, in spite of your broken leg.

"Bloody useless little bastard," Mr. Bird mutters.

Keep working at that arrow. Not really anything else to do, is there?

Xan frees you from your predicament. What a nice insane power mad wizard he is.





The warbeast wanders for a few minutes and the crab man, despite the loss of his harpoon, doesn't follow. Its still quite a walk towards the mountian sized idols in the distance, though we could easily make it there if you want. Is that what you want?

[Ozarck]

Sure, let's go see the big gods. ((The handball was that gift from the crocodile man - the ball that Sebastian can crawl into to be petted infinitely if he wishes.))

[Toaster]

Sleep through the travel montage.

[wipeout1024]

Cautiously get out of my hiding place.

[Egan_BW]

Alright, let's get a more detailed description of this harpoon first. Bit of metal on a stick? Bit of chitin on a chitin? Flaming anger rod? Something's severed penis?

[Xantalos]

Alright! So lets dig out the map....

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

So...where to?

We travel now.

Looking at the map and remembering what was said about places, Dead Silence seems ... well, I could endure it but maybe not my Most-Beautiful guys. Therefore, head north from wherever we are until we get to the Domain of the Mount King. We're aiming to eventually get to the Black Sun Cult so I can subjugate them so I think heading north from there will be alright until we hit something worthy of attention.

While we're montaging, I believe John had a book on him about blood rituals before he went comatose. See if I can't find it and start reading.

Also, Imma try to create a sort of character sheet I can keep track of in between posts since Comrade's gone and therefore the wiki's not super up to date anymore. Probably edit it in.

Spoiler: Xankarvo (click to show/hide)

Name: Xankarvo
Needs: Regular (food, water)
Appearance: Generic Xan template (tall, bald, intense stare, slender)
Good At: Fire
Bad At: Not Being A Dick
Greatest Hope: Omnipotence
Greatest Fear: Irrelevance
Known Alterations: Flint and Steel Teeth, Crab-like Left Arm, Asbestos Hands, Fire Cape (possibly item?)
Known Powers/Abilities: Fire powers - varies depending on rolls/situation, but some common variants:
- Pseudo-fire breath (alcohol ignited via sparks from teeth)
- General fire manipulation (can make existent fire do various things - got fire cape from this
- Sacrificial Healing (can close wounds, reattach limbs, perform major healing, potentially bring back the dead (not tested) with the burning of a proportional amount of flesh, whether self or others)
- Sacrificial Flame Generation (correct me if I'm wrong, piecewise, but I think at one point I burned my fingers off to generate a blast of fire? I think I can probably do something like that.)

Inventory:
- 1 Olive
- 1 Toothpick
- Fancy Pen
- Wizard Robe (black, purple highlights)
- Wizard Tracksuit (same as above)
- Wizard Hat (grey, pointy, wide brim)
- Book about Faith, Godhood, etc
- Lamellar Chestplate
- Notebook
- Voice of the People (fist-sized seashell. Put note in, crush note to have effect written on note)
- Bag of Explosive Crystals - they appear to absorb energy proportional to their size before exploding, probably give sign when they're about to explode

[Egan_BW]

I want to head towards to Cemiac, so I can talk to a certain limb-dealer.

[Xantalos]

Sounds good, if all goes well we can head there after we pass through Black Sun territory.

[piecewise]

Sure, let's go see the big gods. ((The handball was that gift from the crocodile man - the ball that Sebastian can crawl into to be petted infinitely if he wishes.))

ah, by handball I thought you meant handball.

You crawl into your handball and get petted in circles.

Sleep through the travel montage.

*gurgle*

Cautiously get out of my hiding place.

You crawl out of hiding and look around. Everything appears safe. Man, your life has been one session of hiding after another lately.

Alright, let's get a more detailed description of this harpoon first. Bit of metal on a stick? Bit of chitin on a chitin? Flaming anger rod? Something's severed penis?

Its shaped something like a 4 sided, upside down Christmas tree, at least the "Blade" part. Looking straight down at it, it looks like a "+" and each side has several large barbs to keep it caught in the flesh of whatever it hits. The blade itself looks to be made out of some kind of silver metal mixed with black veins, while the shaft is pinkish red with an organic-looking pattern carved into it to act as a grip.

Alright! So lets dig out the map....

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

So...where to?

We travel now.

Looking at the map and remembering what was said about places, Dead Silence seems ... well, I could endure it but maybe not my Most-Beautiful guys. Therefore, head north from wherever we are until we get to the Domain of the Mount King. We're aiming to eventually get to the Black Sun Cult so I can subjugate them so I think heading north from there will be alright until we hit something worthy of attention.

While we're montaging, I believe John had a book on him about blood rituals before he went comatose. See if I can't find it and start reading.

Also, Imma try to create a sort of character sheet I can keep track of in between posts since Comrade's gone and therefore the wiki's not super up to date anymore. Probably edit it in.

Spoiler: Xankarvo (click to show/hide)

Name: Xankarvo
Needs: Regular (food, water)
Appearance: Generic Xan template (tall, bald, intense stare, slender)
Good At: Fire
Bad At: Not Being A Dick
Greatest Hope: Omnipotence
Greatest Fear: Irrelevance
Known Alterations: Flint and Steel Teeth, Crab-like Left Arm, Asbestos Hands, Fire Cape (possibly item?)
Known Powers/Abilities: Fire powers - varies depending on rolls/situation, but some common variants:
- Pseudo-fire breath (alcohol ignited via sparks from teeth)
- General fire manipulation (can make existent fire do various things - got fire cape from this
- Sacrificial Healing (can close wounds, reattach limbs, perform major healing, potentially bring back the dead (not tested) with the burning of a proportional amount of flesh, whether self or others)
- Sacrificial Flame Generation (correct me if I'm wrong, piecewise, but I think at one point I burned my fingers off to generate a blast of fire? I think I can probably do something like that.)

Inventory:
- 1 Olive
- 1 Toothpick
- Fancy Pen
- Wizard Robe (black, purple highlights)
- Wizard Tracksuit (same as above)
- Wizard Hat (grey, pointy, wide brim)
- Book about Faith, Godhood, etc
- Lamellar Chestplate
- Notebook
- Voice of the People (fist-sized seashell. Put note in, crush note to have effect written on note)
- Bag of Explosive Crystals - they appear to absorb energy proportional to their size before exploding, probably give sign when they're about to explode

You steer the warbeast back around and head north until you hit the barrier between hells and push straight through. The domain of the Mount king is not at all like you expected it; it is indeed a thin strip of land, maybe a few miles wide, with cloud borders obviously visible. But there are no mountains here, at least no natural ones. Instead, there are monstrous towers, each one the size and rough shape of a mountain. The stones of these towers are massive, hundreds of feet long, wide and tall, stacked like the bricks of a bulbous brick oven, wide and squat at the bottom, tapering upwards to a pointed peak, a grand smokestack spewing flame and ash. These towers are melded together at their bases, intermingling, stones meshed together. Windows dot the outside of the towers like the tiny holes of porous pumice, and from these holes, white heads bob up to stare at the war beast. 

[Egan_BW]

Unscrew or otherwise detach the javelin head, and test it on some wood to see if It's a passable drill.

[Harry Baldman]

Am I fully healed up from the trip?

Make sure that my plant is blooded thoroughly with the replenishing Xanblood of my corpus jar.

Spoiler: Mr. Bird (click to show/hide)

Name: Mr. Bird

Soul: Montgomery Merriwether Munroe, the virtually unknown butler/comfort killer/butler (he's more of a butler than a comfort killer, you see), a joyfully amoral individual who offered his services to a great many rich widows in his life, and only killed, like, three of them (a record low among his peers) to get some money out of it when he didn't have any other ideas. He died at the age of 89 in his sleep after consuming an almost legendary amount of prescription medicine and hard liquor (after about six hours of... extreme exertion for someone his age), surrounded on his deathbed by much younger, better-looking women in a high-class establishment of considerable ill repute. They inherited a considerable portion of his estate, as outlined in his will written earlier that week.

Incarnation: Mr. Bird looks almost exactly like a bearded vulture, to be perfectly honest, except at the end of his wings one can see small, clawed fingers that lead one to suspect he may secretly be some kind of dinosaur, disregarding the obvious fact that birds are, in fact, dinosaurs. For some reason he looks very expensive.

What you're good at: flying, extracting nutrients from tough bones, high altitude survival

What you're bad at: blending in or looking inconspicuous, unless it's in a zoo.

Your Hopes: to chew on the bones of a dead god and extract their wonderful marrow, to soar to the highest mountains and to check if he can perhaps sire a brood in this strange afterlife.

Your Fears: being old and useless, finding nothing in his search for greater thrills, having to butle again for some old hag until she kicks off or, ugh, he has to poison her for money.

What you need to survive: bones! Maybe a little water

Hellish Possessions:
Bladed wing armor (worn)
Corpus jar (presently containing blood of Xankarvo)

[Ozarck]

Sebastian climbs out to the front of the warbeast, where he is in as full view of the 'people' that are watching, and shouts: "Greetings, Fellow Beings, and denizens of the Hall of this rather industrious-looking place! We have come to make your lives interesting! Come, tell us your tales, and we will tell you ours. They are pretty neato, our stories. Especially mine. Butdon't let that intimidate you! We welcome stories of all kinds, and will spread news of your exploits, whoever small, far and wide!"

[piecewise]

Unscrew or otherwise detach the javelin head, and test it on some wood to see if It's a passable drill.

[2]
That proves a lot harder to do then you originally expected. Thing seems very well attached to the shaft. Like your mom on date night

Hey oh.

Am I fully healed up from the trip?

Make sure that my plant is blooded thoroughly with the replenishing Xanblood of my corpus jar.

Spoiler: Mr. Bird (click to show/hide)

Name: Mr. Bird

Soul: Montgomery Merriwether Munroe, the virtually unknown butler/comfort killer/butler (he's more of a butler than a comfort killer, you see), a joyfully amoral individual who offered his services to a great many rich widows in his life, and only killed, like, three of them (a record low among his peers) to get some money out of it when he didn't have any other ideas. He died at the age of 89 in his sleep after consuming an almost legendary amount of prescription medicine and hard liquor (after about six hours of... extreme exertion for someone his age), surrounded on his deathbed by much younger, better-looking women in a high-class establishment of considerable ill repute. They inherited a considerable portion of his estate, as outlined in his will written earlier that week.

Incarnation: Mr. Bird looks almost exactly like a bearded vulture, to be perfectly honest, except at the end of his wings one can see small, clawed fingers that lead one to suspect he may secretly be some kind of dinosaur, disregarding the obvious fact that birds are, in fact, dinosaurs. For some reason he looks very expensive.

What you're good at: flying, extracting nutrients from tough bones, high altitude survival

What you're bad at: blending in or looking inconspicuous, unless it's in a zoo.

Your Hopes: to chew on the bones of a dead god and extract their wonderful marrow, to soar to the highest mountains and to check if he can perhaps sire a brood in this strange afterlife.

Your Fears: being old and useless, finding nothing in his search for greater thrills, having to butle again for some old hag until she kicks off or, ugh, he has to poison her for money.

What you need to survive: bones! Maybe a little water

Hellish Possessions:
Bladed wing armor (worn)
Corpus jar (presently containing blood of Xankarvo)

[3]
No, but you're feeling better. Good enough to walk around and maybe glide a bit, but hard flying is still out.

The plant has actually grown a fair bit! Enough to sprout a single little grayish fruit the size of a fist and shaped like a human skull. On the other side there's the start of a fruit, a little femur, but its still very tiny. You feed the plant some blood.

Sebastian climbs out to the front of the warbeast, where he is in as full view of the 'people' that are watching, and shouts: "Greetings, Fellow Beings, and denizens of the Hall of this rather industrious-looking place! We have come to make your lives interesting! Come, tell us your tales, and we will tell you ours. They are pretty neato, our stories. Especially mine. Butdon't let that intimidate you! We welcome stories of all kinds, and will spread news of your exploits, whoever small, far and wide!"

[4]
The people seem to notice and take an interest in you, but it's hard to tell if they understand your language or if they're just staring at the noisy thing.