I'll take that fourth fate point. Next, I'll look for books related to The Machine. My brethren have come out stupid and damaged, and I'd like to keep it that way.
Name: Genesis
Description: Classic 80s action hero looks, kinda quiet. think Kurt Russel from the movie Soldier (only probably less mute)
Nature: Pureblood
Status: Newly decanted
HP: 10
Inventory: Robe, gloves, walking needle.
Fate Points: 4
[6]
You dig out a book called "On the operation of autonomous alchemical engines" and begin reading. Apparently the issue has to do with ambient magic interfering with the carefully calibrated settings somewhere in the deeper parts of the machine. You suppose that you could worsen it even more by having more magic cast in the area.
Oops, missed it.
What happened to the bird when the titan died? Did it also die by proxy, or is it still ok?
Name: Luta
Description: A short pale hairless woman
Nature: Anagramist
Status: Fit as a Fiddle
HP: 10
Inventory:
Robe
Needle (charged with Assassin)
Gloves
Grass Lad (friend?)
Grass sabers (3)
Fate Points: 0
The bird appears to be long gone. It was already long gone when the wolf died, so what happened to it is a bit of a mystery at this point.
Glad to see the locals are friendly. And it seems the noise has stopped, excellent.
Grey tries to convey to the humans that he wants a pen and something to write on, and if successful, attempts to establish a line of communication through the written word.
Also, do these robes have pockets or anything?
Name: Grey
Description: A hairless pink colored man with lacking facial features, little more than a pair of eyes, two holes for a nose, and a line for a mouth.
Nature: Verbomancer (Maintain)
Status: Okayish, arm splinted.
HP: 6
Inventory: Purple robe, white gloves, giant needle
Fate Points: 1
You check your robes. No pockets as such, but the sleeves are big and baggy enough to work like pockets to a degree.
[1] +1 fate point.
You attempt to convey your desire for a pen and paper to the people helping you but they only end up confused and slightly frightened by your unknown gestures.
Clearly this was all thanks to getting rid of the fur.
Drip finds a nice trophy. Even if it's just a hunk of ash.
Name: Drip
Description: Drip has memories of being water. Surely that's not a thing, but he insists it is. Water.
Nature: Anagramist
Status: Slightly squashed but triumphant.
HP: 9
Inventory: Purple Eye Robe, White Eye Gloves, Needle Spear
Fate Points: 2
Drip grabs a hunk of ash and stuffs it in one robe sleeve. Good enough!
Youare whistles through his teeth, surveying the ashy remains of the creature.
"That was quick. I guess being able to throw these needles is pretty useful. Great work all round, people."
"...that does give me an idea. Does anyone want me to try and turn their arm into a specialised needle launcher? I'm pretty sure I know a way to do it."
Take the function Protect from one of the sturdier looking structures (bunkers, gun emplacements, etc) and put it into my robe. If any humans come up, stare at them with my hood down until suitably cowed.
If there's any time after that, pull the function Launch from one of the artillery pieces, and put it in my left arm. Or in someone else's arm if they volunteer.
Name: Youare A. Homunculus
Description: a wiry man, elderly in appearance but still trim and strong, grey hair thick with alchemical medium plastered over his skull and down his back
Nature: Functionary
Status: robed, thin layer of frozen slime
HP: 10
Inventory: one robe, one pair of gloves, and one big ass needle
Fate Points: 0
[2]
You grope at the wall of one of the buildings but your fingers fail to penetrate it. Dang.
(My only regret is not making the belts into a bigger belt to smack the Titan across the snout while Bob shouted "Bad doggy!", but I'm much happier with the killing blow than doing that and getting squished.)
Seeing the Titan turn to ash, Bob's face broke out into a wide smile. "BEHOLD THE POWER OF BOB'S BELTS! BOB IS COMPETENT! GO BOB OR GO HOME!" He shouted to the sky, throwing his arms back and laughing. After managing to compose himself, he went to retrieve his Needle.
Retrieve Needle, anything in the nearby ashes that seems to be valuable, and any of the belts that carried the Needle if they're still around and not aggressive belt snakes. If there are not suitable trophies (like one of the belts he just used), Bob scoops up some of the ash. Maybe he can keep it in a small jar or something. Then...I dunno. See about helping the survivors maybe? Or just go back to the teleportation unit. Bob was summoned to kill a monster, not rebuild.
Name: Bob
Description: An average-sized human-looking male homunculus with a beard of belts.
Nature: Elemental (Belts)
Status: Healthy
HP: 9
Inventory:
Robe
Gloves
Needle (glowing a very bright gray after killing the Wolf Titan)
Fate Points: 2
Bob wanders over to his needle and yanks it out of the snow. The belts are still encircling it, squirming rapidly. The glow from the weapon is quite intense. He rests it on one shoulder and pokes at the ash with his foot. Inside the ash, near where the needle was stuck, is a small stone. Its really nothing special, just a dark green river rock about the size of his thumb and very smooth. He shrugs and sticks it in the sleeve of his robe.
“Shit.” The Speaker says in disappointment as he realizes the beast had been destroyed before he could do any more damage to it. “Well… it looks like it’s time to go home.”
Seeing the Titan turn to ash, Bob's face broke out into a wide smile. "BEHOLD THE POWER OF BOB'S BELTS! BOB IS COMPETENT! GO BOB OR GO HOME!"
“’Your’ belts? I think you forget where and from whom you took those belts. I suggest you leave them to their proper owners.”, The Speaker says as he walks past bob on his way back to the teleport column.
(Out of curiosity, does the die that you use for my rolls have the words “Property of Xantalos” anywhere on it?)
(((Our belts [Communist anthem plays very loudly])))
(My skeletal wife rolls the die, so maybe she's just very capricious.)
Speaker kicks the snow a bit, disappointed he couldn't be the one to perform the killing blow. He'd have to satisfy himself with serious maiming instead.
Head over to the ash pile, commence looting
Name: Master of the Lambent Flame
Description: A messy-haired albino with a desert kepi as an extension of their lifeforce. Keeps an aloof expression when not having a delusional outburst.
Nature: Pureblood
Status:
HP: 10
Inventory:
Fate Points: 0
The ash pile contains....ASH! You take a handful, just in case.
"Huzza it's dead!"
Grab a few of the bullets from the gun, then go look for a smaller abandoned gun I can take.
Name: Debby
Description: Looks like a regular human woman but with the head of a deer.
Nature: All-Tounges
Status: No longer flopping around a freaking out.
HP: 10
Inventory:
purple robe
white gloves
big ass needle
Fate Points: 0
You open the ammo box and pry a few of the 8 inch rounds out of the belt. [1] You search around for another gun, one that can be carried by you personally. You fail to find one, and worse yet, you somehow drop and lose the big ass bullets you just looted in the process! Bullshit!
A dull chime rings out across the plain. From the hilltop they teleported onto grows a great mass of undulating energy. Its a dark purple, but wreathed in pinkish flame, a truly bizarre and otherworldly thing against the white snow and black sky. The mass squirms and erupts, firing out thick tendrils. The tendrils curve down and extend at ballistic speeds, stretching all the way down into the valley and village in only a few seconds. They whip into the Homunculi one after another, expanding and swallowing them up. Grey is the last to go, snatched by a tendril that snakes its way downstairs, bursts open the door to the bunker, and engulfs him.
Those swallowed by the tendrils find themselves hurtling through that same kaleidoscopic shaft and appearing, moments later, back in the cavern. As they emerge they find their injuries begin to rapidly heal. For those with cuts and bruises this is quick and painless. For Grey, the process of his arm being re-socketed and healed is a bit louder and less comfortable. The plaque next to the portal reads
The Covenant has been fulfilled. You have done well. Your injuries are healed. Await your next command. The portal gate closes, the wall of black void snapping out of existence as though someone threw a switch and turned out a light.
Author
Topic: Magnum Opus: Welcome Home. (Read 124170 times)