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40021805 No.40021805 [Reply] [Original] [4plebs] [archived.moe]

'Sup /tg/ we are long over due for one of these so here we go.

Usual copy pasta to start.
>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.40021879


The party are composed of five players these are:

Angus: an orc, enjoys pyromania, animal lover and flower arrangements.

The bard: a human, plays the bagpipes. Is generally a source of stupid (ly brilliant) ideas.

The wizard: a wizard (no shit). Controls metal and is generally fairly quiet. Source of brilliant(ly stupid) ideas.

The Navvie: a large angry human. He has a hammer. He hits things with it.

Aldous: A dwarven knight, also me.

>> No.40021959


>What happened last time?
We are still in our first ever adventure (all the stuff on 1D4chan comes after this because what started story time in the first place is a couple adventures away).

in the last thread we hung out in Dundee, met each other, then a God fell out of the sky (belatucadros - baz for short). There were rather a lot of undead, and following a siege, the undead made off with Baz for nefarious purposes. The party have been conscripted to serve the crown.

>> No.40022038

Actually this post summarizes it nicely and I can just follow on from here.
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.40022133


Phew, ok that's all the background done. Now to actually continue the story.

We sign the charter, accepting the Queen's shilling and agreeing to finish what we started.

Well that's not quite right. We didn't start anything. Some giant bastard with antlers fell out of the sky on us.

We are not best pleased, but given the choice of fighting further or being disposed of in some unpleasant manner, there isn't really a choice at all.

Dan Defoe (quite a nice bloke really) continues, giving us the best intelligence the crown has on what Frank (our local neighbourhood necromancer) is likely to do next.

>> No.40022244

>the short answer lads, we have no fucking idea.

Well cheers for that Dan.

>But we do know he (Frank) has a fondness for Romans. It's likely he may be camped somewhere near Battledykes (yes that's a real place)

>> No.40022320

Woo Hoo

No pic.
Frank was the necromancer, right?

Also, how long are you story-ing tonight, it's a little late start?

>> No.40022374

I get occasional bouts of jet lag related insomnia. I'm likely to be good for at least another ninety minutes to two hours. (Or possibly until dawn)

Frank was indeed the necromancer and our first BBEG.

>> No.40022475


Let the tale continue then

>> No.40022513

The party, and we are starting to think of ourselves as a party now, are at this point still aboard HMS Victory while Dundee slowly burns.

Battledykes is about twenty miles north of the city. If that is where Frank (not actually called Frank but it's easier than typing "the necromancer") has gone, then it's likely this is also where they have taken Baz.

>Hey Dan if we are servants of the crown does that mean we can get stuff?

The DM makes a fatal decision here.

>Well I'm sure the ships stores can be made available to you within reason.
>Roll some dice

>Angus beams
"I wonder if anyone will miss this flamethrower..."

We also make off with a quantity of explosives (dynamite) and ammunition.

One of the ships boats drops us ashore at Invergowrie (Down the coast a bit).

>> No.40022596

So our merry little band set off on our first adventure, we have a necromancer to slay and a quest. We feel like proper adventurers!

>it starts to rain. Heavily.
>It's also cold as fuck.

We try to push on, on foot, along a road rapidly turning to mud, downtrodden refugees heading in the opposite direction look more than worse for wear, they at least can take shelter in wagons. The bard begins to shiver.

>> No.40022651

We are barely two miles inland and soaked to the skin. Frozen, we start thinking of looking for a barn or similar to wait out the storm. We find a small cottage, there is smoke coming from the chimney and it looks warm and cosy.

>> No.40022738

We knock on the door hopefully. Starting to feel rather sorry for ourselves in this weather, yes we have some gear with us, but it's bitterly wet and cold, and we were up all night fighting the undead (if you can't tell we are being punished for our own stupidly here).

The tiny old woman that answers the door tells us that we can bugger off.

The offer of money gets us permission to stay in the barn and the offer of soup.

Feeling a bit happier (Angus seems to have a sniffle) we decide given we set off late that maybe we should settle down here for the night, warm up, and generally be of some use tomorrow.

>> No.40022772

The rain beats down hard on the roof, despite the well maintained farm there are no animals. We should perhaps find this odd but maybe they're all out to pasture. It also seems to be just the old woman.

After the soup we feel drowsy. Very drowsy indeed.

>> No.40022937

Oh this can't be good

>> No.40022965

We do our best to stay awake, deciding one of us should perhaps remain on watch, I try to stay awake with my pipe. I'm replaced by the bard, then the wizard, the wizard wakes the rest of us just after midnight.

There is something coming up the road. It's still raining so hard to tell what, but we strain our eyes in the darkness.

>> No.40023061

There are a number of them. A small force even. We can't make out much, they look from a distance like sturdy, wizened old men, each is wearing what (as the old woman opens the door to the cottage, we seen in the light to be) a bright red cap.

A little lore checking denotes the strong possibility that these might be Powries http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Redcap

>> No.40023142

A Powrie, or red cap as Anon will see from the link is a sort of species of dwarf, well armed and bloodthirsty, the titular hats are dyed red with blood and they must re-dye them regularly.

The Powries begin to deposit various dead things on the threshold (we note that they never cross it) these include the butchered carcasses of deer, a boar, and three or four concerningly human shaped things. It appears the old woman has been cooking for these things.

>> No.40023302

>a note on the powries of Britbongsteros
A native tribe or race, local to the Scottish borders, entirely mercenary, they prey on travellers. Each is armed traditionally with a long spear or pike. They are excellent woodsmen and incredibly fast over open ground.

There's also enough of them that we are totally boned if the old woman tells them we are....

>she points in out general direction.

>> No.40023395

What exactly do we do? There's not much we can do. We decide to wait until they get closer and see what comes of it.

About half of them walk toward the barn. The other half seem to have flat out vanished. As they get closer we can see the wicked talons on their hands, their fangs and the rain washes the blood dripping from their hats down their cheeks.

They open the barn doors below us. As the others have dissapeared we wait in. the hayloft. Ready at least to take some with us.

>> No.40024935


>> No.40027386

The game of bumps returns

>> No.40030784

Good morning anons. Disadvantage to me doing these when tired is I keep falling asleep...

>> No.40032963

Late lunch and I'm back

>> No.40032986

The Powries don't seem to have realised we are there, they are below us, collecting up tools, what looks like farming equipment.

Maybe we might get out of this without bloodshed?

>Probably not.

One of them sniffs the air. We do our best to stay quiet. It shakes it's head.

Seems everything turned out better than exp...

The other half of the Powries have been scaling the wall of the barn.

>> No.40033006

Everything goes crazy, there are Powries everywhere, there's gun fire and bagpipes, screaming, shouting and by the way. Did you know, using a flame-thrower in a wooden building is actually not wonderfully smart?

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