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39552301 No.39552301 [Reply] [Original] [4plebs] [archived.moe]

Hello anons.

Storytime continues.

>Wut is Britbongsteros?
It's a homebrew setting our DM (with some help from me) devised. We played a lot in it and I've been telling stories of our adventures for a little while now.

As some of you may know, last time we got to the end of Britbongsteros, then I made the mistake of reminding /tg/ that we started the tales of britbongsteros in about the middle of the group's third adventure. Therefore at the request of /tg/ I shall start at the very beginning.

If you are a newfriend, you literally don't need to know anything about anything or have read any of the previous threads, but there is a wiki curated by an awesome anon.


That includes some general details about the setting.

Before I being properly, it is important to be aware that each Britbongsteros adventure attempted to out-do the last one for scale and insanity, so these will be smaller in their scope, but no less fun I hope.

For those who have been following storytime since the beginning, I will take us up to where the first storytime began, that should (depending on how I tell it) result in 2 or 3 more storytimes in total.

Oh and in advance for the grumpy-anon who spergs about Opus the Penguin being used as the OP pic, We love you man, get some help .

>> No.39552385

It may be best to begin with character creation.

As we know, the party consisted of five people:

Angus: an orc

The bard: a human

The wizard: a wizard (no shit)

The Navvie: a large angry human

Aldous: A dwarven knight, also me.

I will describe in a little bit of detail how each of us started out in the next posts, if there is anyone lurking, do feel free to ask who you want told about first while I make myself a drink.

As a reminder there would be five of us (there were eventually six players) during these adventures as the other player hadn't joined yet, though she did usually sit and drink wine on the sofa and listen (which is how she decided to start playing. There were a couple of her interjections which are worthy of note, so her player will show up every so often.

>> No.39552481

So, here's a question I've had about Britbongsteros. Each time you describe the Navvie, you describe him as "Glowing like the Union Jack". You also say "We don't know why yet"...

Did you ever figure out why?

>> No.39552555
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And now I have tea.

By the way, the DM is a dick. That's all you need to know about him.


I want to be an orc.

>Ok you're an orc. Good for you. What else?

Well Orcs in this setting live in Dundee right?


Nothing exciting has ever come out of Dundee right? So I should be boring, I should be something like...like a....greengrocer.

>You're a green-greengrocer?


>Ok, what would you bring to the party?

Well I should be inventive maybe, bring some technical skills, I can maybe do some social things right?

>Sure let's go for it.

We never actually worked it out, it was in part how we came to explain fate points, but we think it had something to do with excalibur and Pendragon.

>> No.39552634
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The Bard:

I've actually already talked about this.

Japan does not exist in this setting. Godzilla does. He will kill and eat anything even vaguely weeaboo. This was made extremely clear to the Bard's player in advance (he likes to be an edgemaster katana wielding trench coated sunglass wearing faggot)

I want to be a Samurai!

>Japan doesn't exist. No.

well ok I'm just the one samurai who was sent away to regain my honnah...


shipwreck samurai!


>magic samurai!


DM: look fuck it. Japan was destroyed totally. No survivors. The end.

>oh ok, how about I roll a bard?

>> No.39552678


The Wizard

The DM and Wizard's player had already had an extensive chat about the mechanics of wizardry in the setting, as Anon may already be aware, the wizard wasn't magic in the sense of your average time travelling D&D magic bastard, the idea being that he could only control metal, he could do whatever he liked with the stuff, but it would take time and there'd be DM fiat on his powers. He would receive a bonus to controlling anything iron based as that was his clan.

So essentially that was the Wizard. (They'd spent rather a while working it all out together).

>> No.39552746

The Navvie:

The Navvie's player is a simple chap who takes a simple approach to life.

Ok. What do you fancy being?

>I will have a hammer. I will hit things with it. We're done.


Well, firearms are a thing...so I'd like to play as a specialist with ranged weapons, maybe a brace of pistols...

>You're not playing that fucking elf again.

I'll be a dwarf, an angry one, a Dwarven Noble, bitter and twisted, someone who has suffered a great deal, and seeks for new meaning in life or a means to end it.

>Hmm...ok I like that, we're good.
It's worth mentioning we did work out little backstories for ourselves so we all had origins and backgrounds, but that's essentially it.

>> No.39552827

>How it all began...

The story begins when a god falls out of the sky.

He hits the marketplace in Dundee,

We all have our reasons to be there be it working, shopping, drinking or travelling through.

There's a light in the sky, people are looking up, it's looks like a comet, but it's low, it's coming down, it's coming down towards the marketplace.

It's coming down fast, running isn't going to help, nor is cover.

The comet isn't just coming down, it's screaming, actually screaming.

We can each make it out now, the shape of a man, wreathed in flame.

>> No.39552885

He hits the ground hard, thunderously so, People are knocked flat by the shockwave, people start to run, five people advance on the crater.

You five.

>> No.39553047

The five us look over the edge of steaming, smoking crater. The man isn't jam as you might expect. He also has a pretty large pair of antlers growing out of his head.

He opens his eyes and looks at the five of us.

He speaks in a language none of us understand.

Gesturing at himself he says what we can only assume is his name. Belatucadros.

At least that's we think it might be.

>> No.39553068

i am english and what is this

>> No.39553118

The five of us look at each other. There's quite a large crowd gathered behind us.

There are shouts of "What's going on? What's in there?" We decide to perhaps maybe talk to him. To try and do something a bit more positive than gawp.

We descend into the crater. On closer inspection, his legs are broken. He's rather a lot bigger than an ordinary man, bigger than the Navvie, at the very least twelve feet tall.

From behind us, the crowd are making different noises, screams, there comes a gun-shot, then more.

well I thought the OP explained it fairly well, but if I can help anon further, what are you not following?

>> No.39553237

The bard (remember none of have actually met one another at this point) looks over the top of the crater.

>Fuck this, I'm off.

The Navvie and I look at one another, Angus looks out as well.


The crowd are fleeing, there are undead making there way through, slaughtering as they go.

We are unarmed, The Navvie and I can't carry what must be 800lbs of god,

We can't just leave the fucker, Angus offers to help.

The three of us do our best to pick him up. to drag him from the crater.

We are surprised when becomes lighter, the fourth so far silent person in the crater, still hasn't touched the thing, but an iron bar supports the gods lower body, Enough that we can carry him. Enough that we can run.

>> No.39555131

Bump because I am reading this.

>> No.39555978

I am somewhat concerned about this thread's ability to stay up through the night seeing how there's a possibility many of the anons interested in Britbongsteros might not be aware that there was still some more story to be told.

>> No.39559466

Bump, because it's ALIVE!

>> No.39560574

Greetings anons, posting to resume about 18:00 GMT today.

>> No.39560727

Aw yiss.

>> No.39561047

holy shite, more britbongsteros awesome :D

>> No.39561361

So that's about 3 or 4 hours from now.

>> No.39562164
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¡Bump y olé!

>> No.39562658

Keep up the faith in Penguin.

>> No.39563840

We're in the time before the Penguin.

>> No.39563948

I think you'll find the adhesive postage stamp was invented by a Dundonian m8.

>> No.39564226


... I do not wish to speak of time paradox.

>> No.39564295


But I'm always here Anon.

>> No.39564396


So we pick up Belatucadros (who I'm now going to call Baz for short) and book it in the direction Angus points.

As we run we push past large numbers of terrified people, on the other side of the square we can see organized ranks of skeletons advancing line abreast. These skellies aren't your common or garden ones, they're clad in armour, they look like roman legionairres more than anything. (Couldn't find a pic of a roman legionarry skeleton so this'll do)

We get into what must be Angus's shop.

The Navvie suggests locking the door, which Angus does, The windows are small and easily boarded up.

The shop is semi-detached, next to it is the inn where the rest of us happen to be staying. The skeletons we can see are advancing on the crater.

Baz is asleep.

Clearly they want Baz.

We know that necromancery has been an ongoing problem for a while as general knowledge and they're probably evil for that reason.

We start talking to each other as we board the place up.

Introductions are made.

There's movement from behind the counter. We improvise weapons (a tack-hammer, my pen-knife, the Navvie's fists, and a couple of hovering chainsaws), the bard sheepishly pops his head over the counter. As does a tiny animated haggis.

>"Eep" said the Haggis

>"hi...guys" said the bard.

>> No.39564425
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forgot my pic.

>> No.39564471

Realising the bard probably isn't a threat, I mention that my weapons and armour are next door, as are the Navvies' things, and it turns out, the Bards pipes too.

Angus is already rummaging to try to find something to improvise as a weapon, remember he is a greengrocer, and therefore does not sell much in the way of threatening items.

Across the square the undead are beginning to break into buildings, clear them, obviously looking for Baz.

>How are we going to get our stuff?

The Navvie solves the problem by making a Navvie sized hole in the shelf, wall, and a couple of tables on the other side of the wall.

>> No.39564508
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Ah ha! Found some.

>> No.39564592

Undead haggis?

>> No.39564793
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We recover our acoutrements easily enough. The Inn is deserted, now armed and amoured, we see each other for the first time as potential warriors and allies rather than men caught in events we don't understand. Also the Bard is there and his familiar: "Haggis." (yes it was called Haggis).

Angus's shop is not as defensible as we'd like and peeking between the boards on the windows we can see that the undead are starting to turn our way.

The most defensible location nearyby is the Steeple Church, the (amazingly enough) Steeple of which is practically a tower, perhaps we can hold out there with Baz until the soldiers from Oliver Barracks or Marines from any of the RN vessels in the harbour can try to retake the town.

We decide to leave, Angus empties the register, leaving a "back soon" note on the counter, and guides us to the back door, which he makes a show of locking behind us (the hole in the wall he appears to have neglected). He is carrying a large sack of what can't really identify as anything other than "bitz". We also think grabbing some food and beer might be a good idea.

We slink through the backstreets toward the Kirk. (Pic related).


>> No.39564820
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Ahem, forgot to actually reply to you. The Haggis as many scots are fond of convincing American tourists has a reputation as a fearsome mountain animal.

This was one of those.

>> No.39565223

I thought he was just playing with his food.

>> No.39566632


We've become extremely adapt at this it seems.

>> No.39567965

that you have Anon. My thanks.

We continue...

>> No.39568501

Ok obtaining beer took longer than predicted. Where was I...

So we slink through the backstreets, we can already smell smoke and there is still the occasional scream, we can hear the Undead smashing down doors, it can't be long before we're spotted so we move as quickly as a group of men carrying 800lbs of unconscious god can, Angus directs us and we can already see the Steeple above the houses, but we can also hear the crackle of gunfire from up ahead.

>> No.39568608
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Just before we enter the square we decide to ditch Baz for a minute. Apparently the Haggis will keep an eye on him (ok Bard...)

We round a corner and see a detachment of Royal marines unloading into a Testudo of skellies. The Skellies are not going down easy and are slowly, surely, advancing on them. The Skellies have their backs to us, we could break their formation.

It's here we have our first defining moment as a party.

>Are we going to help them?

There's four fuck yeahs and a "sure whatever..."
There's four fuck yeahs

>> No.39568732
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Hmm what happened there?

Anyway, the "sure whatever" earns the bard a stare from the rest of us.

Fine you can stay here and watch...

This is also the first interjection from the sofa of
>Hah, faggot.

Ok I'm in!

At this stage we are all very very basic, some of us have fought before, others have literally no idea what they're doing.

The bard is extremely helpful in that the first thing he does, is start to play (this was our first experience of the Bard's music. the DM must have queued this up on his laptop, because as soon as the Bard says "I am gonna play an inspiring song, the DM slaps the space spar and https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdqoNKCCt7A - which was then followed by several already slightly drunk players singing along)

>> No.39568762

Of course what the DM didn't remind him was that we are the better part of fifty feet from the Skeletons, roman skeletons with perfect drill, the rear rank does a 180 towards us.

>Well shit.

>> No.39568830

That's fucking funny.

>> No.39568936


Once we got over the idea that the bard playing music meant that we actually got music, we are staring down a rank of 15 odd skellies with very big shields, which we are a tiny bit unsure about how to kill them.

The wizard goes first.

>Guyz, I have a plan...

He summons a 10lb iron ball. It hovers in mid air, it starts to rotate in place, gradually gaining speed, meanwhile the Navvie and I start to jog toward the enemy. Angus at this point as a self declared party face isn't really sure what he's gonna do, but he definitely has a sack of stuff, which he plops down and reaches into.

>OOC: Angus what are you doing?
>I'm a social character, I dunno I could...
>I pick up a brick and follow the other two!

>> No.39569162

At 25 feet or so I stop and open fire on them, the rounds from my revolvers punch through the shields just fine, but what they're doing to the Skellies behind it's kinda hard to tell. One falls and a couple are looking quite shaky. I keep firing, stopping to reload and then emptying the cylinder again.

Angus jogs past me after the Navvie. He stops, reaches into the bag (still holding the brick) and goes for a bottle, which he somehow fashions into a rudimentary molotov cocktail. It sails through the air. It shatters on a shield. Then the one who it hit is shattered into bits. Angus celebrates what he sees as his victory as the Wizard summons some rotary saws, the redneck cannonball does however zip into the main body of skellies, momentarily breaking their formation and buying the marines some time.

>> No.39569488

Well that explains how he began his pyromaniacy.

Burning things just kept solving all of his problems.

>> No.39569587

He never seemed to realise it was the redneck-cannonball that did it, but we didn't have the heart to tell him either. But yes, this is where it all began.


The Navvie is starting to realise that even with me firing at Skellies, Angus prepping another molotov and the Wizard keeping his flanks clear, him and his hammer are still running straight at ten or so skeletons.

He decides rather than run away, he decides to take the innovative decision of running at them faster.

>> No.39570122

The reasoning is easy enough to follow, they're in a single line, one skelly deep, if he can break their formation and keep going, they can't surround him.

He smashes one to the ground and gets a glancing blow on a second and keeps going.

Skellies may be tough but they are not bright, with some turning to follow him and others advancing on us, they are easy enough to mop up.

>> No.39571191

Mop up has always been a funny phrase to me.

It's like imaging a group of skillies getting hit with a bowling ball and then someone comes in and uses one of their bones to push them to the side.

>> No.39572544

Ok. I've got about an hour's posting in me so we will see how far we can get...

We have our first victory! Go us! We are heroes! Except there's still the least 75 more skellies.


The marines are doing a fairly good job keeping them back. Another wizard-cannonball (turns out its rather effective if your enemies are man sized and don't have guns, and just happen to be lined up) helps break the formation as we hit the Skellies in the rear.

The rest of the combat sees skeletons pinned between us and marines. When the dust settles there's us and about fifteen marines left.

We retrieve Baz and head into the church.

>> No.39572594

I was totally expecting Baz to be gone and there to be a replacement sack full of 800lbs worth of skeletons.

>> No.39572739

We also retrieved the haggis. By the time we get back the marines are starting to dig in, ripping up pews and smashing windows to make firing ports.

The rest of the city is burning, there are a fair number of huddled civilians within the church as well. The marines are lead by a sergeant with a very impressive tache. They are short on ammunition and are happy to have us with them.

Outside there do not appear to be many skellies about, yet.

Given the way the rest of the city is suffering and how quiet it seems here, we maybe sometime before we are relieved.

Baz semi wakes up. He doesn't look terribly well. Indeed he looks a bit worse than when we found him.

He sits up, looks around, vomits into the font and collapses on the floor.

Meanwhile our attention is drawn to the skellies beginning to file into the square.

>> No.39572885

We pool our knowledge, the marines seem happy to keep doing marine things and leave us to it. We decide to get away from the smell of Baz vomit and head up into the steeple.

On getting the height advantage we realise several things

1. Yup this city is fucked
2. Thats a lot of Roman skeletons.

Why are they Romans? Well necromancers like bodies/skellies that in life were trained (it sort of helps with drilling the skellies) and the Romans did actually do quite a lot of stuff around this area, don't put it past an intrepid go getting necromancer to have gone to Mons Graupius and raised the Roman dead for example. Then to have continued the theme with any other corpses.

It was about here that Angus decided he wanted to call them Zombans. We told him if he tried we would throw him from the tower.

>> No.39572910

If this was one of those skeleton threads /tg/ likes so much I'd point out he does have a God skeleton inside him.

>> No.39572964

The bad thing in particular about it being Romans is Romans are rather good at millitary engineering. We have a feeling if this turns into a siege, we aren't going to have a chance to starve to death.

We can also see larger shapes on the skyline, undead giants we think. The ships in port are streaming out to see while the RN vessels fire on the giants.

>> No.39573121

It's beginning to get dark. The skellies have surrounded the church but aren't doing anything else. Baz pukes again and we attempt further communication.

There's a lot of grunting, and some sign language. In the end, Baz makes writing motions, Angus dips into his sack and comes out with a stick of charcoal. He then ignores everyone else while tinkering with some bits.

Baz draws a picture on a flagstone. it's him and he has some other (what we assume are Gods) around him, surrounding them are lots and lots of little floaty things.

He then scrubs out the floaty things. Drawing them instead around a second picture, a skull.

He then pointedly draws a line through one God after another, until only Baz is left.

What the wizard and I construe from this (the Navvie deciding that alcohol is dangerous in a situation like this and is plugging down all the beer we brought to protect others from inebriation) is that all of the souls that were keeping Baz and his God friends going (I.e. folk who died in their territory) have been hoovered up by the necromancers.

Baz and co are not likely to have had a great many living believers and now he finds himself the only one left.

>> No.39573360

Baz then promptly passes out again. Angus is still tinkering. People are starting to get hungry (not a good time to be a haggis). The undead aren't coming because (we assume) church, but we are stuck in here without the forces to get out, we assume they are trying to keep us here until they can bring up something that will let them in. Be it siege engine or magic or something.

We are starting to ponder.

>why not give them Baz?

>> No.39573396

My first guess would be that the church is having an ill effect upon him.

>> No.39573426

We decide against it because giving then an actual God seems unwise.

It looks like stalemate for now.

Ok anon its time for bed here, I will try to appear tomorrow around 19:00 ish if not earlier. Will continue this or start new thread

>> No.39573494


Have a good night then.

>> No.39576080

Time to start the bumping.

>> No.39578697

Another bump.

>> No.39579593

I'll give it a bump before bed for good measure.

>> No.39580757

Bump in the morning

>> No.39582271
File: 331 KB, 1200x771, the-last-of-the-mohicans-9781442481305.in01.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Bump on a canoe

>> No.39583786

Late morning bump.

>> No.39584597

Hello anons. May be a short installment tonight. Should be around 19:30 GMT

>> No.39586326

Lunch time bump.

>> No.39588281

Only an hour late. Go me.

>> No.39588333

Having decided not to hand over Baz, we consider our options again, sadly our options appear to amount to die, or wait for them to break down the walls, then die. Attempts at finding catacombs or tunnels under the altar or other standard church type things prove fruitless. It looks like we are here for the duration.

There is movement outside.

>> No.39588483

It looks like whatever they are waiting for has arrived. A patch of darkness coalesces into a vaguely humanoid shape. If we had to guess, it's probably not a good sign at all.

The Necromancer (who to differentiate him from later apperances, we will call him "Frank") hisses and clacks his teeth together a bit before remembering how to speak.

>You have something we want...

>> No.39588547

Deciding we aren't going to lose anything by responding we ask 'what's that exactly?"

>You have my sacrifice. Give him to me and I will let you leave unharmed.

At this point we owe nothing to the country, we have no royal charter, and we have no purple penguin. This does not however mean that we believe him.

>Why don't you come and get him!?

>> No.39588584

The necromancer doesn't seem terribly amused. He makes no reply but there is an almighty thump from the doors as a a battering ram is deployed.

>> No.39588679

I'm almost picturing in my mind a skeleton making the Frank face.

>> No.39588788

We manage to get a look outside. We expected your common or garden battering ram, what we did not expect was (one lore check later) the iron man of gorbals (esoteric but it is on Google) to be clubbing at our door.

We have another problem. There is a commotion among the civilians. We decide the doors are our biggest threat and with the marines firing onto the skellies below as they try to get ladders against the windows, we decide this place may not be as sanctified as we hoped.

>> No.39588885

The iron man is...well basically a big iron and flesh construct. The wizard is definitely going to be able to do things to it, but he's going to need time.

We smash out the stained glass windows and do our best, he seems resistant to shot, hammer, and...Angus? Where are you?

>> No.39588938

Angus joins us with a large bucket of something flammable, from the smell it's whale oil (rather common as a means of providing illumination) he douses the iron man who although going up like a torch, otherwise isnt terribly bothered.

There's screaming from behind us now

>> No.39588940

>the iron man of gorbals
did some google seems he might be getting some free dentistry from the wizard

>> No.39588964

The iron man judders and stumbles, it seems the wizard is doing something...he collapses against the door. A large, flaming object, against the wooden door.


>> No.39589029

It's a strong oak door, toughened by the years, but if it fails we are beyond fucked. The iron man is still banging weakly at it.

The wizard does his best to shore up the door and simultaneously encourage bits of the iron man away from it, reasoning it is Angus's problem, the Navvie and I leave him and the bard to try and put the issue out while we see what is up with the civvies.

>> No.39589107

We are just in time to see a marine get his throat ripped out by a granny. She screams unlike anything we have heard before, a banshee wail. It appears the undead may not be inclined to come in without a necromancer like Frank to strengthen their animus, if you're in the church and happen to expire, as granny appears to have done, you're fair game.

Some of the civilian corpses behind her are starting to rise.

The marines at the windows are tied up keeping the rest of the undead, it looks like this is our problem.

>> No.39589233

The problem is that this is becoming an exponential issue as dying civilians rise and kill others, who themselves also rise, we get stuck in as best we can, but it's not long before the Navvie and I are surrounded, fighting back to back, thinning down what is slowly becoming a horde. At least we have their attention...or do we...It seems like some are making for Baz.

>> No.39589247

So Frank can just revive the dead into whatever he likes?

>> No.39589339


When some of the nearby bodies ignite we at least know help is on the way. Joined by the others we fight our way to Baz, just as a patch of darkness begins to form above where he lays. (n.b. a recently reanimated corpse in Britbongsteros is not a zombie, it retains all of the thoughts, feelings and emotions it did when living, but the will of the corpse can be subjugated, otherwise they just gradually go feral as the brain dies off)

Cù Sìth is what we would identify the thing as once it appears over Baz, but we settled on Giant Fucking Murder Dog.

>> No.39589476

Not exactly, the unread came in three (for want of a better term) tiers:

1. Zombies: the recently reanimated, still bearing the memories of life, uncoordinated, crap in combat, but excellent as a horde. If renanimated but not subjugated they would g on feral as the brain decayed, eventually becoming..

Tier 2: Skellies. Tough, violent and able to be perfectly coordinated by a necromancer, as there is nothing left to contest the body.

Tier 3: if you had sufficient angriness or something left to do, you could end up as a wight or revenant. Also falling into this category are banshees, who are tough, but the banshee "spirit" can possess a corpse where it knows there is likely to be a lot more death to follow (I.e. it is going to be able to do some wailing)

Tier 3.5 is ghosts which I will have to remember to tell you about later.

>> No.39589506

Dammit I have been trying not to let auto correct turn "undead" into "unread" since this thread started.

>> No.39589529

Yes I know I'm a casual for not having "undead" in my tablets dictionary.

>> No.39590154
File: 78 KB, 500x375, tumblr_nb3130ejKM1tqfyozo1_500.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

We stand together, there's a giant fucking dog thing (it's alive/demonic/who fucking knows but it's in here and it's the size of a bull pic related) and it's standing over Baz. It lowers it's shoulders and growls.

We look at each other, we look at it, it's do or fucking die now. Five men, one haggis. Let's do this.

The bard plays for us, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R044sleOW6I while the undead smash into the Kirk through the windows, marines retreating behind us, trying to keep our backs clear as the beast lopes toward us.

We can see light beginning to come in through the windows behind it, but it's by no means sun up yet.

We run to meet it, pistols and molotov taking it at close range, the harpoon now sticking out of its side impedes it, as it gets in close, the Navvie smacking it in the face as it goes to bite down on the noisiest target. The bard.

It gets a mouthful of Haggis instead.

(DM: That thing was retarded you can either lose that or lose a leg).

Bereft of the daftest member of our party, we club the thing to death.

>> No.39590180

The sun is definitely rising, but it's by no means light enough to give us hope, we turn and stand with the marines, of whom there are not very many left, the couple of surviving civilians do their best with candlesticks. It's about now that Baz wakes up.

>> No.39590230

We know Baz as an 800lb lump of useless, smelly, vomitting rubbish, what we do not know him as, is as a god, and he gracefully, slowly, pushes through our lines. The predatory bulk of him slamming into skeletons.

As impressive as it is, there's only one of him, and an awful lot of them. Also there's a Frank.

>> No.39590307

His skellies have opened the door, and as Frank drifts in, Baz is swamped, pulled down like a stag by hounds.

Frank wouldn't be any kind of evil necromancer if he didn't gloat a little, but he's also eminently sensible about it. As Skellies bind him and lift Baz out, he gives us an oddly cheerful wave.

>Goodness that was a lot of effort wasn't it? Why bother? You could have avoided this and all of these people wouldn't have had to...

The pistol bullet takes his jaw off. The Navvie speaks for all of us.

>We didn't ask to be here, but you know what, fuck you.

>> No.39590373

The party's mentality is starting to form up pretty nicely here.

>> No.39590528
File: 497 KB, 299x224, tumblr_ljkh2nIdDd1qbs8rso1_400.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Frank beats a retreat with Baz in tow, the rest of the Skellies push toward us, we retreat to the altar, using the stairs to hold them off as best we can.

The sun is up now, and in the distance we can hear the guns on the ships.

The shell that takes out the other half of the church makes life somewhat easier.

Eventually we collapse, weary, tired, and grumpy in the light of the early dawn.

We are taken aboard the HMS Victory, this by no means feels like victory, it feels like a beginning, after our story is confirmed by the surviving marines and civilians, we meet Dan Defoe, agent of the privy council.

He's quite a guy (pic related),

>Well you didn't quite do a perfect job lads, but we think we know where Frank went, it's not a job for conventional forces, and I have a royal charter here that offers you some excellent benefits to signing up.

What benefits are these?

>Revenge, money, arms, women, and being alive to enjoy it.

Angus looks troubled. What about my shop?

>Destroyed in the shelling, or if it wasn't I'll arrange it.

My...my...my family?

>See above, you signing or not me ol' green matey?

Five signatures are added below the extremely impressive signature of "Queenie - Love and Hugs. P.s. I'll chop off your balls."

>> No.39590570

Yes, it may be fun to read through all these in sequence one day, it may explain the outlook the party had on life.

Now I'll need to go and do some actual work, I'll either be back for a bit tomorrow or depending on how unable I am to sleep, later tonight. I'll dip into the thread every so often if there are any questions.

>> No.39590628

By the by, drawfag, if you happen to catch this, I'd like a chat if you get the opportunity.

>> No.39590637

It's weird and oddly refreshing seeing the start of the story after having already read through everything that comes after.

So the party was strong armed into signing that thing.
No wonder you were all so quick to go up north and deal with this shit when the motive presented itself.

>> No.39590704

by the by, just curious, how would anon have reacted if it was your Haggis? The bard saw the error of his ways, but I wonder if all would have reacted the same way.

Yes we were, it is why were also quite happy to bring about regime change, the idea was we were a bunch of (sort of) ordinary guys stuck in situations that we'd really not be in, Hellboy was quite a big inspiration as regards this and of course, the more useful we were, the more shit got thrown at us.

>> No.39591830

You were still in the first session when it happened, yeah?

Unless that Haggis was a necessary element in some big skill or ability, or a major part of the character's backstory, I don't think I'd have cared much either.

But if it WERE one of those, I would've found a new rodent to carry around.

>> No.39592360

Sure dude, hit me up on DA if you can't find me here http://bored-drawfriend.deviantart.com/

>> No.39594773
File: 46 KB, 336x425, The King of Memphis.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Bump for the king.

>> No.39596641

What would it even be called if another campaign in the setting took place in 'Murica?

>> No.39596776


>> No.39597143


I kid, I kid. I encourage all anons to expand their individual regions/nations under the Britbong framework.

>> No.39597299

Well, if I did it where I live, oranges would contain trace amounts of god blood (not sure which gods, but the land is soaked with their blood), there would be sun cultists who generate massive amounts of magic from sunlight and are trying to convert everyone else to do so, some storm wizards who live only to spite everyone else but are protected by a foreign power, and probably a new kingdom (or at least fiefdom) of elves who sell drugs that effect emotions rather than be all slutty.

I'd have to work out a time frame to base it around to get any more detailed than that, that way I'd be able to pull more from the local history.

>> No.39597693


>> No.39597713

You. I like you.

>> No.39597799

And whatever the native awfulness of Canada is, they migrate down there in droves every winter.

It's not uncommon to see the natives wearing windago pelts.

The storm wizards are actually the original natives who were driven to Cuba. They summon massive storms every summer to disrupt trade with the rest of Europe and kill as many of the whitemen as possible.

>> No.39599988

The immortal mad governor, Juan Ponce de León, the only living man who knows the location of the Fountain of Youth, must be included... as a reclusive old man in his fortress who goes into senile rants about how there wasn't any magic in the world when he was young.

The leader of the Sun Cultists, Thomas Edison has found a reliable way to bottle and transfer light as well as use it to power various devices that make life more bearable in the tropical climate (such as the air conditioner).
He is currently searching for any still active flesh eating robots developed over a century prior by Eli Whitney (originally developed to hunt down escaped slaves and troublesome natives) which were weaponized during the American Civil War and then later turned loose in the wild country side by the losing Confederates. He believes he can re-purpose them into doing non-violent farm work, or at least to subside on animal flesh.

>> No.39602558

Bumping before bed.

>> No.39605163

Page 10, we meet again!

>> No.39605781

Keep up the good fight, Anon!

>> No.39607225

Morning bump.

>> No.39608289

Evening bump.

>> No.39610006

Late lunch bump.

>> No.39612112

Getting to be evening bump.

>> No.39613192

Hello anons. I have had rather a lot more work dropped on me than I expected I think we are going to have to let this thread die and I'll make another when I get the chance.

Thank you all for the bumps and patience

>> No.39613706

Well, if you think so.

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