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41796194 No.41796194 [Reply] [Original] [4plebs] [archived.moe]

'Sup /tg/ we are gonna do this one last time. It's been a fun ride but this should be the last thread. Let's enjoy it and see where we go.

>Wut the fuck is this?
It's storytime and its the last one. Get in here.

>Something dies
>A new BBEG
>Queen and country

>> No.41796205

>I'm new
Have some pasta.
there is a wiki curated by an awesome anon.


It also contains links to the previous threads.

>holy shit that's a lot of words.

It is.

So a quick summary of who is who and what is what:
because I'm telling these tales by accident, we started later in the adventures than the chronological beginning. If you will, we have already heard episodes 3-10 but not episodes 1-3. So we have gone back to the start. We are currently ending episode 3 (3.5 really).

If this is confusing, just enjoy the ride.

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.

There was a sixth player later but she had

>> No.41796219

What has happened so far?

>a great big God fell out of the sky (Baz)
>We fought some Roman legionarry skeletons in Dundee.
>our God got nicked by a necromancer
>we were strongarmed into serving the crown
>we went to get Baz back, we sort of....totally fucked it.
>Baz and the necromancer are now joined in a fusion of total evilness.
>We met what we think might be a demon, he's called Donny. We liked him.
>He blew up quite of lot of stuff.
>We no longer like Donny.
>Instead we have decided it's an idea to kill Donny before we go after Baz.
>we accidentally killed old Greg
>we discovered that Donny remains a cock but he also owes us a favour.
>a discussion about the meaning of "pneumatic"
>we acquired the stone of scone and killed a Dragon.
>We killed Baz, we got rid of Donny and there was much rejoicing.

>> No.41796290


What's going on now?
The country is still teetering on the brink of totally fucked, but we, are alive.

We discover later that while we were fucking about in Dundee, the undead launched an invasion into the North of England. Necromancers and more alchemsists than ever seen on these shores.

Our new destination, Blackadder (our current quest giver and representative of the crown I.e. boss) later decides as we manage some small respite aboard the HMS Dreadnowt (yes that one) is the North of Englandshire.

The Alchemists have repeeating rifles, and we for one, will need those for the country, England expects, Scotland knows we have already begun to discharge our duty.

As the party do our best to lick our wounds aboard the Dreadnowt, Blackadder fresh from his new (self) promotion lays out our new mission.

We are to generally cause as much havoc to the invading undead as we can, but additionally the Alchemists (who are playing both sides and it is in their interests to have the war continue as long as possible) will not sell us the designs of those repeating rifles.

We are to acquire a quantity of them by any means necessary.

>Why us?

Three reasons. One you're still alive, you're still alive when our best problem solvers are all dead, and lastly, you can do your duty to your country, or all be shot.

>> No.41796312

It's rather hard to argue with the last point and as our little band of ne'er do wells have been forged in combat and tempered by victory, we for once (aside from the fresh bruises, broken ribs, stab wounds and need of a bath) feel almost keen to pitch in. Maybe we can make a difference.

>> No.41796326

The voyage back up the east coast (away from the big scary monsters) and down the west is mostly uneventful, sort of.

There are reports from ratings of a stowaway. Searches of the vessel and reduction of rum rations do little to prevent these reports, in fact they increase.

Nonetheless we steam for Liverpool and the new front in the war against undeath.

When we arrive in Liverpool the news from the front is not good. Although the Undead advance has slowed, it definitely has not stopped. The Dorfs have dug in and dug in hard. They've made a maginot line out of Yorkshire and lanacashire but won't do anything beyond that.

Someone (us) is going to have to try to get them to March north, hopefully in the north, we will also encounter some alchemists and be able to get some of those rifles by beating them up.

>Wut about all the Alchemists you killed before? Either they died in enemy territory or the stately home we visited was recaptured/reclaimed by the Alchemists.

The worst part is there are detachments of them acting within the country who are helping us. It has been noted that they have stopped carrying rifles and we can't (the country) throw them all in the tower of London quite yet.

>> No.41796348

Right now we have established what's going on, who is who and all that I can actually get on with the story assuming /tg/ wishes me to.

>> No.41796556


We have already talked a little about Dorfs. I'm one, and they have popped up elsewhere, the essential things to note is that they are Yorkshiremen first then Dorfs second (Britons third). For one thing in their view there should be a Dorf on the throne and they still have not forgotten the outcome of the war of the roses.

If geography were different they'd be quite happy chilling out near their mills and drinking beer while everyone else got slaughtered.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) they are between the Undead and a whole lot of the rest of our island home.

>> No.41796666


The dorfs (we discover mostly through spending some time in the pub) don't really see any of this as their problem, taking the approach that it's nothing to do with them, they feel that certain concessions, particularly on trade and taxes along with more representation down south might assist.

The issue being of course that down south in Lannndan, no one gives a shit

>> No.41796856


We decide to take in a bit more local colour first in Liverpool and then closer to home for me in the centre of Dorf-shire (Leeds). It also is where my (the dwarf) family home is - Harrogate.

>> No.41796936

The major political players in the area are the House of York and the Lancastrians. Now dwarves are dwarves but these two houses hate each other, the only thing they hate more than each other is people who get in the way of them hating each other.

The house of York is lead by the famously promiscuous Henry the 8th (not being the 8th anything except one famously having eight mistresses in one night) the other is the puritanical Duke of Lancaster, Dick (or Richard) Dawkins.

>> No.41797104


There are also rumours of bad goings on on Ilkley moor which we think may bear investigation.

So to summarize:
>get dwarves on board and moving
>obtain guns

Additionally there is a further consideration for me as a character. The trip back to Harrogate involves a little backstory which I'll go into in more detail shortly, but essentially I left under a bit of a cloud.

>> No.41797126


Now anons (assuming anyone is still reading these and the usual folk aren't all on holiday) it's nearly time for bed but I'll keep going until I nod off.

>> No.41797356


What we have heard about Ilkley relates to strange lights and decapitated (and also hatless) corpses.

It sounds like something we may wish to have a look into.

Now though the first thing the DM mentions as we travel by road to Harrogate is the distinct (and by now very familiar feeling) of being watched.

>> No.41799540

I'd like for the thread to be here later.

>> No.41802367

Not missing it this time.

>> No.41802557
File: 108 KB, 643x720, bloom county 2015 shirtless 1.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Because it really ticked me off last time when I checked for a Britbongsteros thread only to find it had already gone into the non-posting mode.

>> No.41803471
File: 52 KB, 720x261, bloom county 2015 shirtless 2.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Right now there's about a 4 and a half hour wait between time of last post and the bottom of page 10.

That time buffer is going to get bigger until probably six to eight hours from now, then it'll shrink back down to about two hours on average.

So for this thread to make it through the night, someone would need to bump it in three hours from now to be on the safe side.

>> No.41804282

This picture is more accurate than I care to discuss.

Ok anons it looks like this one is gonna fly so we continue (also I'm awake and tea is delightful stuff).

I'll do my best to post throughout today.

>> No.41804336

Travelling from Liverpool to Harrogate, Ilkley moor is on the way, we take our time, the lights are seen at night and so it seems prudent that we arrive about then too.

The moor is misty and the moon is full. We still feel eerily under observation but if Coliunn is still alive, well more power to him, he's taken everything the world can throw at him, including us.

Thinking back on it. Aside from our first fight, he has not been overtly hostile particularly, but he has followed us across the country tenaciously

>> No.41804354

>and also hatless
Somehow this is much more unnerving than just decapitated

>> No.41804726

It also makes them genuinely "on ikla moor bah tat"

>> No.41805100


>is Russian roulette a traditional game?

>> No.41806321

Oh no you don't.

>> No.41806333

By which I mean fall off the board

>> No.41807039
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Good morning bump.

>> No.41808002
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And for good measure.

>> No.41809436


>> No.41810365

And again.

I've just been having some minor computer problems is all.

>> No.41811419

This thread sinks to page 9 fast.

>> No.41811545

Hello, been ambushed by rather a lot of work today and have just left the office. Fortunately I don't have to do anything particulalry tomorrow morning so a late evening posting session shall occur once I've had some dinner. 23:30 should be kick off time.

>> No.41811710

That's 2 and a half hours from this post, give or take

>> No.41812278

Depressing lack of Bloom Country bump

>> No.41813515
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There are currently only so many new ones.

>> No.41814442

Haha! I'm on time (ish) for the first time ever.

Posting commencing until I pass out.

>> No.41814491

Let's see how far you get then.

>> No.41814548


For once as we wait for midnight near Ilkley we are on properly friendly territory. Our visit to the pub goes to plan though the locals all look into their pints when we say what we are here for. It seems everyone there has lost a son or a an aunt, a cousin or a husband. The village is a close knit community and they don't seem too keen to talk to outsiders beyond that. Even the reports of headless/hatless corpses came from a travelling government official who later went mad and accidentally killed himself while cleaning his fully loaded revolver with the back of his head. While sleeping.

We might be murderhobos but it makes us feel we are doing the right and proper thing.

For once...

We should notice and do something about the fact that the pub slowly empties as evening goes on until by closing time we are the only ones there and have been for a while.

>> No.41814664

Our first hint that something may or may not be right in the land of Yorkshire is that something appears to have happened to our truck. It was parked outside and appears to be suffering slightly from critical existence failure. It's simply gone.


Wouldn't we have heard it start?

>possibly it was loud in the pub...

Strong thieves who picked it up and carried it?

>that's just stupid bard.

Despite our missing vehicle we decide that we are here already and might as well be useful.

We are meant to be (notionally anyway) problem solvers and servants of the crown (whatever that means) if we are going to do anything we should to the right thing (again whatever that is).

Aside from the hatless corpses we haven't heard or know of anything particularly weird in this area.

We head out onto the misty and blasted heath. The moon provides scant illumination beyond making the mist seem silver. We have to watch our step carefully.

>> No.41814785

I get the feeling the bard is right.

>> No.41814796

The contrast of warm cosy pub and dewsoaked chill of the midnight moor puts us on edge. This feels like the all too familiar set up of small town and big weird magic problem.

We watch the mist carefully expecting skeletons or some supernatural horror.

We are taken entirely by surprise as an enormous hoof steps between the party, then rises and dissapears into the mist.

The Kilburn white horse is nearby, maybe this is it out for a walk or a visitor. As it passes over head Angus is pleased to report it is definitely a stallion. He can "tell by the way it walks" apparently.

The horse itself does not seem very threatening aside from being enormous.

We continue on into the mist.

>> No.41814892

Since ancient times mankind has felt compelled to draw giant dicks.

>> No.41814911


One of the reasons Yorkshire is famous for Dorfs is it's one of the places with actual mythology about Duregar (Dorf) which means I should really be knowing what's going on here, but as I stare into the mist I can make about as much sense of what we find as the others.

We see the shape of a man, but find it to be only the crudely constructed body of a green man, we approach other figures and find the same.

A great shape looms from the mist, and as we disturb a flock of dozing grouse (to their near immolation) we realise we at least have a bearing. We have found the cow and calf (famous big rock and smaller rock).

It's about now that we start to hear singing.

>> No.41815002

Something the innkeeper said comes back to us

>no one goes on the moor at night willingly

Well we aren't here willingly, we also aren't wearing hats (aside from the bard).

The haunting lyrics of Ilkley moorhttps://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_Ilkla_Moor_Baht_%27at are sung in the distance, it seems like just one lilting soft voice.

From previous experience this (Fuck you DM) is going to mean combat. The party ready themselves and tighten our formation.

>> No.41815109

The moor itself is known for ancient pagan megaliths and other odd goings on. Something is starting to feel very wrong indeed.

We pause at the edge of one of the many pools of still water on the moor.

Looking in we can only see reflected moonlight.

Then the stillness of the water breaks as something lands within it.

We look up and around, no idea what or where that came from.

It was a fairly decent splash. As the song continues the wizard coaxes the object from the water by dint of pushing it along with an iron bar.

The severed head has its mouth open in a silent scream.

The wizard visibly gulps. The rest of us take a knee, expecting a rush of slathering feral space jaguars at any second.

>> No.41815181

As the song continues (again and again, endlessly repeating) the head opens its eyes. They glow with an inner fire, it too starts to sing. The wizard (quite reasonably) freaks out and drops the thing in the pond.

We can hear more voices now. More singing. A choir entirely out of tune with each other but all singing that song and all a few lines out of step with each other.

We are starting to feel distinctly panicky now. We are slightly lost and totally surrounded.

We do our best to remember that severed heads probably can't hurt us as we watch the glowing eyes of the thing bob on the water.

The Navvie reminds us
>missing heads don't hurt but whatever cut them off might...

>> No.41815201

I think this is just a constant of human nature anon.

>> No.41815302


Alone on this strange and isolated heath surrounded by a cacophony of voices in the mist we decide (again quite reasonably I think):

>fuck this. Leg it.



We're lost aren't we?

>maybe but oh balls what is that?

>> No.41815360

What is definitely magical fire sparks and whips around the Neolithic carvings in the stones around us and across the moor.

The voices rise in volume.

We start to wish we had stayed home or at least made more of an effort with the villagers.

This is now totally beyond our skillset.

The mist begins to swirl as the wind gets up.

Imagine being inside a snowglobe as its shook and wearing headphones blaring white noise.

That is the kind of situation we are in here.

A shape begins to coalesce out of the mist.

>> No.41815379

We are sort of relieved (kind of) as the very familiar shape of the our truck lands in the pond behind us.

>Hello Coliunn

>> No.41815424

Something zings over coliunn's shoulders (or where his head would be) and he turns in surprise. We can't make out what it was but clearly there's more than just Coliunn out there.

You might almost feel sorry for the big lump. He only seems to want to beat us up and every time he does, something else intervenes.

>> No.41815532

Two more somethings zip over Coliunn. They are big almost bat like things. If we weren't mistaken they might be large enough to be humanoid.

The party hit the deck as they make the return trip. We decide to leave Coliunn to it and hopefully he'll distract whatever those are.

>> No.41815575
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This goes slightly wrong and we realise it does about the doubler stones. As I finally pass a lore check we realise those things up there are witches. (The doublers being a popular mythological hangout for them).

Come on DM that's boring.



>> No.41815607

He didn't remember what happened last time with the zombies, did he?

Or maybe he did and just felt like pushing the DM.

>> No.41815624

Coliunn catches up with us about here.

It's then that something peculiar happens. One of the witches (think bat/stingray/crow/harpy) goes for the wizard. Coliunn interposes himself between witch and wizard.


Coliunn then thumps the wizard hard enough to knock him over one of the stones.

>oh he wants to kill us himself...

>> No.41815756

There's still singing and plenty magical fire so things are well lit enough for ranged combat. As Coliunn is distracted with the witches, of which their only seem to be three, those of us who can fire indiscriminately on the lot of them.

Meanwhile the Navvie rather than charge into that lot goes to find the wizard and generally attempt to scrape up the mess.

>> No.41815826

The wizard seems mostly fine. As the Navvie bends over him to try and help him to his feet, something snatches him from behind.

The fourth witch. Talons dig into his shirt and the meat of his shoulders as he's lift from the ground and into the air.

Meanwhile Coliunn his having trouble with the witches. There are some large bits of him missing and his wounds are making him slower. The party find it much easier to shoot him than the fast hard to hit witches (though one is now on fire). As the Navvie dissapears into the sky, the wizard joins the rest of the party and we are somewhat more successful with his help in bringing down one witch then another. Coliunn is a known quantity, these things are not...

>> No.41815861

Several hundred feet up the Navvie is not enjoying himself. His hammer is down near where he found the wizard and this creature is showing no signs of doing anything helpful.

He is fortunate in having one arm free.

He considers stabbing it, then realizes it's a very long way down.

>> No.41815892

Hanging onto a talon with his free hand he manages the extremely painful process of pulling his shoulder free. The pain is excruciating but he now has both arms free. The witch however is very aware it's cargo is not playing along

>> No.41815939

The witch begins losing height, struggling to drop the Navvie, he hangs on for dear life, the thing also tries to get its beak/tendrils/maw engaged but the Navvie is fortunate in getting his hand round it's throat.

Struck between either being strangled or falling out of the sky while ripping its erstwhile prey to shreds with its talons, the witch decides on the latter.

The navvie can see ground now and it's coming up fast.

>> No.41815995

Yeah, I went to post one on the bumb and realized I don't have any saved on my phone. Such is life in the Zone.

>> No.41815996

You know, even though it's been done hundreds of times, I still never expect it when that "only I get to kill you" thing happens.

>> No.41816000

Back on the ground Coliunn falls onto his back. Wounds wreathed in magical flame. He doesn't seem to be getting any better. The witches however seem plenty fine. The ones we have brought down stay dead but there seem to be more and more. Taking cover behind the rocks we keep firing and ducking decapitating swoops.

>> No.41816049

The Navvie shifts his weight to the things neck. Those talons tear great strips from his back but the witch is also now pointing directly at the ground. Seizing his moment the Navvie seeing moonlit water below punches it in the side of the head and let's go.

The Navvie hits the water and comes up angry. The witch hits the bank and very shortly afterwards a large man comes up to it and caves it's skull in with a stone.

>> No.41816067

If it helps, Coliunn thumping the wizard made the most delightful sort of "poffff" noise.

>> No.41816119

The rest of the party can see that the numbers of the witches are starting to thin. They begin to retreat. Several of their number are on fire and we are able to track their flight to a nearby rise as the mist serendipitously (cheers DM) clears a little.

As we prepare to wipe out the nest, the Navvie rejoins us.

>what happened to you?
Fuck off Angus.

The wizard hands him his hammer back and away we go.

>> No.41816197

The nest/eyrie/cave thing is a short climb but it's then that we realise.


We are totally unsurprised when the big bastard isn't where he fell.

We are a little surprised when we discover he has only dragged himself a few feet and then collapsed again.

We feel almost sorry for him as Angus torches him. He makes long plaintive moans like a bull in distress. Angus keeps throwing fire until long after they stop.

We feel oddly sorry for Coliunn having grown somewhat fond of him.

As we climb the hill, the wizard looks back, a small, coliunn shaped figure rises from the ashes and slopes off into the night.

>I am groot.

The nest itself contains a number of witches and a whole lot of eggs. The decision to toss explosives in and the burn everything is unanimous.

>> No.41816265

We decide to spend the rest of the night on the moor (without hats - by the way the hats were being used to line the nest). The locals seem almost non-plussed when we report their troubles are over. We can't help noticing that (as we hitch a ride on a mail coach) the butcher, the stable-boy and the local priest can all be heard whistling Ilkley moor. It's only as we leave town that we notice the steeplecock on the church sure does look a lot like one of the witches....

We decide fuck it and try to get some rest. Meanwhile I am more than a bit concerned that, muddied, bloodied and entirely grumpy we will shortly be entering my hometown.

>> No.41816306

Right, that's Coliunn. Now for some Dorf fun. Or at least that's next. I think however it is time for sleep. I hope as always it all makes sense and that anon enjoys.

Goodnight anons.

>> No.41816320

Can't keep a headless wonder down.

>> No.41817371
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Are they even on topic without Opus in them?

>> No.41818188
File: 28 KB, 500x586, PurplePenguin.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

>Wut the fuck is this?
>It's storytime and its the last one. Get in here.
>Last one

>> No.41819419


>> No.41820852

Bumping from page 9.

>> No.41821602

Same deal as last night.

>> No.41823714

Bump of waiting for some vaccinations

>> No.41824276

Travelling to exotic climes?

>> No.41825116

Correct anon. Off to Sub-Saharan Africa for charity work so a lot of the next month is gonna be fundraising stuff - pleased to be finishing off my promised story to /tg/ before I go. Currently learning how the actual fuck justgiving works and why I should care.

Anyway, look for me about 18:00-19:00 today I'll see if we can do an earlyish story time.

>> No.41825659

Morning bump.

>> No.41827025

Leaning towards 19:00

>> No.41827816

Well, let's give this another bump, then. 'till the hour of the penguin.

>> No.41828072

Yes, he's getting ever closer to the turning point in the campaign.

>> No.41828163

Well the actual Purple Penguin is really not very far off now.

I'm not entirely sure if injections are meant to do this to ones arm, but well I'm typing one handed now.

The party travel to Harrogate aboard our new conveyance. There are plenty of other dorfs around and indeed it seems like there are a number of them in the livery of both noble houses (i.e. Duke of York and Duke of Lancaster).

I (Aldous) haven't been in Harrogate for at least forty years but Dorfs have long memories. The town does not seem to have changed much since I left, it does, in fact, seem to have gotten quite a lot worse.

Interestingly there's a new weathervane above the church, it looks a lot like a witch.

I am fairly sure a number of people have recognised their erstwhile lord.

>> No.41828197

>I'm not entirely sure if injections are meant to do this to ones arm, but well I'm typing one handed now.
Doing what, good man? Swelling, pain and the likes? That could be expected from vaccinations, at least to some degree. Or is it something else/worse? We kinda need you so I'd rather you not fall unconcious from anaphilactic shock.

>> No.41828217


For those who don't remember from last time:

"I was a merchant, I did well from my family estates, I married, I had a daughter, the very light of my life. She was taken from me by the then King, we never knew what happened to her, I turned to drink, my wife left, my business was ruined and I was in Dundee because it's where I washed up. The estates in Dorf-shire being run by my factor and younger brother."

Younger Aldous and I had never really gotten on (according to my backstory) and as the third son (middle son having been killed in his time in the army) he had joined the priesthood. The last I heard was he had given up his vows to return to Harrogate and clear the family name.

I'm a little surprised to see him in a very richly decorated cassock (priest gown) as he comes down the steps of the town hall with the Duke of York and Duke of Lancaster on either side.

On his chest is a very big medallion.

Your concern is received with gratitude anon, but one of the injections was tetanus which has given me the sensation of a very dead arm (this was fantastic at the gym) but is entirely expected.

>> No.41828247

If it helps, for the majority of the campaign my PC only had one arm anyway.

And on that medallion is a very shiny witch like symbol.

Little bro what have you been up to...

We roll past the town hall without him spotting us thankfully, but we are starting to wonder if I might not want to be wearing a disguise or something as we are fairly sure little bro is not going to be keen to see me.

We do have our Royal Charter which technically entitles us to anything we want, but will only actually work if we have either a very patriotic request or happen to be standing in front of an army. It's unlikely to be much protection.

>> No.41828271


Something very familiar and very witch like lands on the steeple of the church.


The party considers responding as we generally do to this sort of thing (with diplomacy and tact)

but decide it's probably best to relax and see how things pan out.

We note that the town square has a number of gibbety looking things on it, which are full.

>> No.41828285

>If it helps, for the majority of the campaign my PC only had one arm anyway.
Sure, but far as I know we can't build prosthetics on that level yet. I'm hoping to help change that someday in the future, but that's still a few years you gotta keep your arm, and you, safe and sound. But it's good to know that it's nothing that gives a reason to worry.

>> No.41828312


The gibbets are definitely full of headless corpses (bad). The local population being subdued makes even more sense now.

I think a crudely drawn map is in order.

>> No.41828523
File: 1.41 MB, 2493x2085, 21393.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]


One crudely drawn map later..

The white arrows are where the undead have gotten to so far. The purple lines are where defenses still hold. The Undead's plan is pretty clear. Make for London, kill everyone and the country can be mopped up afterwards. It's a lot like Bonnie Prince Charlie's plan during the rebellion and umpteen other Scottish Invasions.

Harrogate is smack dab in the middle of the route those Skellies will be taking, sitting as it does between the Yorkshire Dales and the North moors.

If the Dorfs are getting involved, it's going to be here.

We have a feeling little-bro is not going to want that.

Food time now so back in a bit/hour.

>> No.41828636

I forgot about that bag-pipe playing chucklefuck.
Did said chucklefuck ever try drowning out the music?

>> No.41828771

Nope he's still around. He's useful when you don't want him to be, and useless when you actually need him to be.

Also I'm back EARLY (my god).


As usual I'll give /tg/ the invitation and reminder that there's a lot to type and a lot to remember so if something doesn't make sense, tell me.

Trailing along behind little-bro is someone else. Someone I should definitely recognise.

My. Ex. Wife.

[It's never simple is it DM?]

>> No.41828859

The party beat a tactical retreat to the most obvious place of safety (after thanking the wagon-driver), the Old-Dragon's Balls hasn't changed a bit. Neither have the staff.

Including Neville the bar-keep who recognises me and performs what is very clearly meant to be a bow.

>My Lord, you still have a...
He reaches under the bar and blows dust off something.
>A tab to clear up.

>> No.41828916

The bard titters,

"Friend of yours Aldous?"

I'm fortunate in that we do have a small slush fund. I dump my share on the bar. There's a depressingly small amount left by the time Neville is finished counting.

He asks me why I'm back, and who my friends are.

We decide not to show him our letters, and instead explain it's a new business venture

>Travelling circus my Lord?

>> No.41828949

It's about this time the DM is tactfully reminded that he is on his fifth of my actual beers and he hasn't ponied up for drinks in a very long time.

Suddenly (and clearly unrelated) the plot-train pulls into the station

>> No.41828991

All this time, all this stories, and I still don't know what think of your GM.
Makes for good stories, 'though.

>> No.41829114

I think we used the term "Magical Autist" previously, I'd say it's rather apt.

What sweeps into the Dragon's Balls is my Ex-wife, who really hasn't changed a bit. Punching out Henry the Bouncer, and swilling down a flagon of ale that Neville proffers to her. We can see a big shiny gold witchy symbol sitting on the sizeable shelf of her decolletage.


(Cruella had great fun doing the voices again).

>> No.41829320

If you take the time to make up backstory, always expect it to come up in the game if the character manages to survive long enough.

>> No.41829646

It certainly came back to haunt me.

The party as my true friends and compatriots decide to stay the fuck away and sit back watch the show.

[A show which I hope to continue before bed. I'll try and post again some more about midnight]

>> No.41831123

Bumping while waiting.

>> No.41832874

Soon... possibly.

>> No.41832907

This asshole is back too!? What's with the unusually high amount of cancer tonight, /tg/?

>> No.41833432

Aaw Grumpy-Anon, you showed up for the last one. Nice to have you back. Still no therapy?

Also posting commencing...well nowish

>> No.41833555

Thank you for your patience anons.

>So you're here...I hope this isn't some foolish attempt to patch things up. It's been four decades and you should know I've remarried anyway.

(It had to be...3...2...1...) Yes little bro and I are very happy. Especially since he converted to the new church.

She armwrestles the Navvie as she continues talking (the Navvie loses to his -pick a word beginning with "a"-)

>so would this be something to do with these symbols we keep seeing around the place?

Yes it would. It's also why (the DM sneaks another beer) we are going to make sure the dukes see sense. Now you're not here to ask for money or something are you?

>> No.41833688

I have missed you you know. But it was never the same Talula died (Cruella who is doing the girly voices dissolves into laughter and the DM continues, she takes some time to recover).

Well I suppose I'll be off. Try not to overstay your welcome.

The party look to me, mostly stunned at the way the ex just swept in and out with all of the poise, grace and total irresistible force of a battleship (similar build too). The alchemists who have drifted in following her arrival suddenly all look into their beers as she departs.

Well it certainly seems we have our objectives laid out.
>little bro must be dealt with, then something must be done about the army. If possible. Finally, rifles.

>> No.41833718

My guess is this whole town is going to get burned to the ground.

>> No.41833775

As I say, here does not seem the place to discuss the matter. We are hesitant to start a fight with alchemists who may or may not be allies (who are we kidding they're all dicks but they are as far as the crown is concerned double agents, additionally they provided apparatus that heats Queenies bath so we can't slaughter them indiscriminately).

>> No.41833903

Well... Err...actually have we ever gone somewhere and not wrecked the place?

I'm drawing a blank here.

The decision is made to repair for a pie. There was and still is an excellent bakers around the corner. Neville waves goodbye, clearly pleased his practice of never clearing slates has worked.

It's a little later in the day now and there are a number of witches perched on the eaves of buildings now. They seem to follow our movements as we walk. The townsfolk seem to accept them as a fact of life.

While tucking into one of Mrs Miggins something and something else pies we plot.

We need to speak to the Dukes. The Dukes are meant to hate each other but little bro seems to have found some common ground.

Given that Henry has the reputation as a whoremonger we figure if we (as is unanimously accepted) visit the town brothel we will bump into him. The matter is met with enthusiasm (except the bard who the Navvie just picks up)

>> No.41834034

The Axe Wound (Yorkshire and Dwarves do not make for complicated names) is pretty much as I remember it. I'd not be too surprised if some of the girls are as well.

Henry is upstairs. Some of his bondsmen along with a human are drinking in the common room.

At the moment we look like smelly adventuring hobos (we are). We can't just walk up and start shouting.

The human we decide is our target. We don't recognise the musclebound shaven headed and scarred Percy Bryce Shelley but maybe we should. The human is most likely to be something to do with the privy council.

>> No.41834043

Let's see... that mansion was still standing when you left.

But this is more about the "how" though.
Sure, everywhere you go gets destroyed, but the method is usually different from place to place.

>> No.41834099

We inveigle ourselves through a number of consume alcohol tests and get involved in a game of cards with the bondsmen. Percy watches while the wizard chats. It is established that Percy is indeed our man, and that he is indeed an agent of the crown keeping an eye on Henry.

The letters of Marque which we show him are enough to get us an audience on the promise we bathe first.

A good brothel has such facilities and a short while later we are ushered into the presence of Henry

>> No.41834138

I suppose we also (usually) left the general area in a better state than it was before, if the central area was usually in ruins...

>> No.41834295

Henry is very much nouveaux riche and is also one for conspicuous consumption. He seems dismissive of us at first but Percy persuades him to hear us out and indeed usher the gaggle of whores out.

We establish Henry is not terribly keen on little bro, or the new-fangled religion he is espousing, he is mostly here because he doesn't want Lancaster getting his nose into something that he isn't involved in either.

The present administration (Queenie) isn't, as far as Henry is concerned, all that great but is better than nothing.

So as long as we "don't let that bastard Lancaster get a leg up, we'll smash these undead bastards our bastarding selves"

Little bro it seems has been mediating in the centuries long dispute between the two houses and Henry is quite happy to be rid of "I'm and 'is fookin bastard birds"

>that seemed easy...too easy...

>> No.41834382

Deciding we are done adventuring for the night, we spend an uneventful but very pleasant evening in the axe-wound generally causing mayhem and blowing off steam.

The next morning with sore heads and consideration given to bacon and fried eggs, we prepare to consider Lancaster.

Henry offers us one final consideration before leaving us.

"I won't be doing anything while that bastard still draws breath..."

So he wants Lancaster dead.

We are unsure how we feel about this.

The two Dukes lead sizeable armies but the two will need to work together or at last stand in the same place to hold off the undead until they run out of momentum.

>> No.41834560

Lancaster is very much the spartan hairshirted opposite of Henry. He swims in the frigid waters of the Oak Beck most mornings and then when not negotiating spends the day in contemplation at the fountains Abbey (very pretty building I should add).

The monks (yes there are still monks in Britbongsteros, the dissolution never quite came about with all the magical weirdness) anyway, the monks will at the very least see us repentant sinners and from there we might just get to speak to Lancaster.

>> No.41834685

We set off with plenty of those witch things flying over head. There must be at least thirty odd that we have seen so far. Littlebro is up to some weird magics we think.

Things go surprisingly smoothly with the monks and Lancaster agrees to see us.




Once we recover from this, we present our letters of Marque. Lancaster seems pleased.


Clearly Lancaster is a bit of a nutter but he's also on the right track.

We return to Henry and establish that he is also not astoundingly keen on Littlebro.

Our next task, littlebro must die.

>> No.41834711

Right anons, time for bed. I hope as always it all makes sense and remains fun. Tomorrow is a busy day and posting will be intermittent. Friday night however is dedicated to Britbongsteros.

>> No.41834907

Alright, sleep well then.

>> No.41836780

OK, that was too fast getting on page 10.

>> No.41838137
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>> No.41838796

I just realized it looks like he's cut the logo and it dies, with another one replacing it.

>> No.41841244


And what is going on in this gif anyway?

>> No.41842322

Then it'd probably be best to let this thread die and create a new one when you have the time. No sense in keeping it alive without content.

>> No.41842788

Nah, I'm gonna try to keep it up because that's just more hassle for me when it comes to editing the wiki page if we end up with multiple fractured threads.

>> No.41843485

Another reason why I'd rather it not die is because it would be difficult to locate the thread that would be made to further continue the story.
I'd rather not have a repeat of the thread that came right before this one which died before anyone found it.

There's also not that much left of the story (apparently) and this thread still had hundreds of bumps left in it.

So because of all that, I'm bumping it before bed and hopefully it'll survive another night.

>> No.41846026

Live you bastard!

>> No.41847737
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>> No.41848911

Morning bump.

>> No.41850381

Bumping it again.

>> No.41851972

I wonder what this installment should be titled.

>> No.41853790
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The Harrowing of Harrogate?

Depends how it goes really

>> No.41853847

We can't stop here, this is witch country.

But they stopped there anyway.

>> No.41855741

Bumping again.

>> No.41857871

And again, this time off of page 10.

>> No.41859327
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>> No.41861307


>> No.41862005
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>> No.41863314

C'mon, stay alive a bit longer.

>> No.41863377

It's going to need to stay alive for another 18 hours or so before the story resumes if Aldous keeps to what he said.

>> No.41863979

I'm gonna give it a bump before bed like I did last night and hope for the best.

>> No.41866143
File: 57 KB, 460x276, penguins.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Page 10?
How about no

>> No.41867746

Time for another morning bump.

>> No.41868676

Greetings anons. Beer obtained and chilling. Out for dinner then permission given for a posting session from approximately 21:00 on.

>> No.41868815

Me by the way.

>> No.41869826

Alright then.

We'll see how much farther you get this time.

>> No.41871220


>> No.41872199

One more bump, in hope and anticipation.

>> No.41872217

Ok, let's do this.

This thread hasn't really had any Germans yet so have some 4chan friendly ones: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8JDkdc246QQ while I start typing.

>> No.41872310
File: 142 KB, 1024x768, ripley_castle_wallpaper1024.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]


>Does Littlebro have to die?
Fuck yes. For a whole variety of reasons. If nothing else what is going on with these Witch things? It seems most un-dwarfy and definitely not something we want flapping around the countryside. Whatever it is, it's probably alchemical in nature and therefore double bad.

>Where is little bro?

He's in my house for one thing.

>Does the party like little bro?

>Do I like little-bro?

Nah, he seems like he's gone off the deep end.

>What's the plan then?
Convince the Dorfs to march to meet the Undead together.

>> No.41872487

Local reconaissance (pub) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f55CqLc6IR0 followed by a scouting mission led by the least pissed member of the party (the Navvie) results in the following information:

No one has really gone near the caslte recently without a very good reason to be there. Apparently strange lights are often seen around it at night. The servants have either taken to wearing masks or just up and left the area (or not been seen...)

Littlebro has been leading congregations at the local churches and gained an awful lot of followers, the most devout moving in around the Castle (pic above related btw).

>What's the this cult about?
No one but the followers seem to have any idea. It seems to involve giving littlebro lots of money and has gained a huge following among the local dorfs and some nascent adherents/satellite churches around Yorkshire, this is why the Dukes are paying attention to littlebro, their people are starting to follow him, they may not like him but as a representative of the third estate, he's got a very big say

>> No.41872558

n.b. the result of giving littlebro lots of money is "induction into the deeper mysteries" of the cult.

If this sounds at all like a contemporary religion this is entirely coincidence.

>> No.41872632

>entirely coincidence.
Of course it is, they'll sue you otherwise

>> No.41872672

What the deeper mysteries seem to involve we don't know, but according to gossip there's a lot of speaking in tongues
>also likely
Orgies and what have you?
>certainly not we're british.

Have Sir Patrick Moore (yes that one) talking to someone who believes he was from Venus while I dissapear for a second.


Posting it because it sounds a lot like the DM's impression of speaking in tongues.

>> No.41872750

Of course it is.

It has nothing to do with space dragons probably.

>> No.41872818

or 747s,

Now I'd better continue before we all get litigated to bits.

So, we think given the events of Scotland, we could quite easily just kick in the doors of my Dorf Fortress and kill everyone inside.

Then we actually consider that.

We do want rid of the cult but is slaughtering a load of people necessarily a good way to carry out our mission? Maybe we should get a bit closer, heavens we could even talk to littlebro and get his side of things.

>> No.41872884


After givng the matter appropriate thought, we get a bit closer to the castle, getting within the grounds.

The DM has us all rolling perception checks. It's about this stage the DM reminds us that our characters are all more than a little pissed.

I blame this for what happened next.

We come across a group of a dozen or so cultists of varying shapes and sizes. It seems there's some sort of ceremony going on in the castle and they're on their way in.

Although they're unarmed and as surprised as we are when we blunder out of a bush into them, without establishing anything beyond the fact that they are wearing silly costumes (think KKK) the party as one charge them and start knocking people out then getting them naked.

Shortly afterwards we are disguised.

>> No.41873040


Disguised as best as we can be, bearing in mind that the cultists (for want of a better term) are all dwarves... we approach the entrance to the great hall.

As a reminder, I am the shortest member of the party at a tall-for-a-dwarf 5'3. The lankiest being the wizard and bard who are well above 6'.

DM: What did you chucklefucks decide to do with all your weapons as you approach the doors?

Party: errrrrrrrrrrrrr

[extremely perceptive anons may have noticed that in later stories the party got much better at going incognito, this is why]

DM: It's too late now....

The Cultist at the front door has had a couple of drinks himself.

>Aren't you a little tall for a dwarf? What are those things you're carrying?

As the dwarfiest party member I get shoved forwards.

>The Church is a multicultural organisation and these others have as much a right to be here as anyone.

The guard thinks about this.

>And what's all that stuff?

A flight of witches passes over head, cawing and barrel rolling around each other against the night sky.

"Those are...those are props..."

DM: Roll for it.

The guard pokes at the "hunch" created by the fuel tank of Angus's flamethrower.

>What's this?

"Err...definitely a hunch, he's very sensitive about it, do you mind?"

(Angus for once cottons on to something and shies away)

>What's this thing then?

Navvie: This? Definitely a walking stick.

>And what has this lanky thing got under his robes Is that a skirt?

(He means the bard)

The Bards player does possibly the most worryingly good falsetto we've ever heard.

He squeals "Get away from me you beast! Unhand me! This dwarf is trying to steal my virtue! He is assaulting a lady!"

Heads are starting to turn.

The guard is making placating gestures.

"You can never tell with humans..."

The DM clearly slightly amazed by what just happened decides that the guard lets us in.

The session ended there, so sorry for the retardation of the above, but staying true to the source etc.

>> No.41873064

What followed on from the end of that session was essentially this:


>> No.41873230

The next session begins as we enter the hall.

There's quite a ceremony going on, lots of candles on a great big chandelier, littlebro is on an altar at the end of the great hall speaking gibberish (so at least that bit was right) and up in the rafters there's plenty witches.

We smuggle ourselves into the back of the crowd. Angus, Wizard, Bard, and Navvie all stand out like sore thumbs among the shorter folks.

It does mean however that we are there in time for the show. From fonts positioned strategically around the hall skulls slowly rise, eye sockets glowing and they sing along slightly out of tune with littlebro.

>this looks familiar.

The witches up above start to caw and crow as though they are either unsettled or very happy about the proceedings.

>> No.41873310

Ha ha, wow.

>> No.41873312

The ceremony continues with lots of singing (we don't know the words or language but do our best) and then littlebro delivers what actually sounds like rather a nice sermon.

Love thy fellow man, pay no heed to lords and ladies and most of all, pay no heed to the Queen or country, accept the "golden coin" (which we assume is the symbol he and wifey wear and everyone else has on) and donate your worldly goods for true wealth. Most importantly the church offers protection from undeath, allowing you to go to a better place at a time of your choosing and not rise again.

>This sounds less good.

Indeed from what we know of the Anglicans (English religious sect who in actual britain are all about tea and jumpers) they would burn the place down, then crucify the ashes, then burn those, then salt the earth, burn the salt, and then burn the ocean for producing the salt based on what we just heard.

>> No.41873418

The long and the short of it, is we listen to the rest of the ceremony then decide to have a chat with littlebro.

A very serious chat indeed.

>> No.41873520

This should have the air of some final showdown, lots of manly stares, of fingers twitching over holsters, a battle of wits and nerves.

The Bard speaks first (seriously he wanted to, we rolled for initiative and everything)

>So this cult, what's it all about?

>> No.41873852

I wonder if blunt logic will make him see how silly this all looks.

>> No.41873910

the bard or littlebro?

>> No.41874132

We already know it won't work on the bard.

>> No.41874232

being abducted, back shortly.

>> No.41874381

I have one question: How drunk were you? And yes, I mean the players, not the characters.

>> No.41874402

Take three guesses

>> No.41875087

Pretty sure at least a few players are scottish, which should answer your question

>> No.41877044

One of these days I should look up one of those bullshit pseudo-documentaries and see if location has anything to do with how much the average person drinks alcohol.

>select all drinks
And captcha is with the program.

>> No.41877119

It does. It really does.

I'm gonna assume aldous has gotten into a drinking game or something though,

>> No.41879278

That seems like reasonable guess.

>> No.41881874
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>> No.41881877


>> No.41884301
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All these random .gifs are me bumping btw. Keeping thread alive for same reasons as that other anon.

>> No.41884652
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And I'm the anon who likes to bump with Boom Country 2015 strips and also before bed.

So, time to see if it makes it through yet another night.

>> No.41884854

Highest beer consumption per capita is dependent on the country.

iirc chzech people have the highest with a tad more than 150 litres yearly, then the irish with a tad less than 150 and third germans with something a bit above 140.

You could probably find proper statistics easily.

>> No.41885518

So I listened to that song and then more, and hit on their hour long video of multiple songs. So much fun.

>> No.41886659

You seem to have a different definition of 'shortly', good man. But I hope you had fun.

>> No.41887009

It's all relative, right? Abductions for me tend to last several days.

>> No.41888183

What about per region within a country?

>> No.41889738


>> No.41890395

>Off to Sub-Saharan Africa for charity work

>> No.41891086

Hello anons, postan tonight should occur a bit late but I will be around soon.

>> No.41892169
File: 276 KB, 240x287, d2pkyrnivb5w3z3idsa5.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

*raves to Stayin Alive*

>> No.41893451

Alright, I'll bump to that.

>> No.41895075

Bumping again.

>> No.41895945

This is entirely correct.

Thank you for your bumps as always anons>

I learnt a word, and yes!

Nearly finished doing (other stuff) for the night so Britbongsteros should kick off in about an hour and go until I fall asleep.

>> No.41896010

Still waiting for OP to choke to death on all those dick he's sucking, so we can finally get rid of this cancer.

>> No.41896311
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Glad you've stuck with us til the end.

>> No.41896365

>I learnt a word, and yes!
Expect to hear it yelled at you a lot. Also, lots of grabbing/pinching.

>> No.41896910
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>Shows up every thread.
>Has said he reads the content
>Doesn't seem to have English as a first language.

I am actaully quite fond of Grumpy-Anon, and I like to think that pic-related is the truth and 4chan taught him English.

>> No.41898295

It amazes me that he's still around.

If that's even the same anon.

>> No.41900314

I guess he fell asleep.

>> No.41902576

Bumping it again.

>> No.41904758

Bumping before bed, as per usual.

>> No.41906615

Bumping from page 10

>> No.41907978
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Bumpin from 9

>> No.41909122

Also bumping from page 9.

>> No.41910586

Keeps happening.

>> No.41912311

Looks like I'm bumping this again.

I wonder if that drawfag from months ago still follows these threads.

>> No.41913030

Right anons. I'm sorry I fell asleep last night (though that does happen every night) nonetheless my apologies. Let's see what happens tonight from about 22:30? Sound good?

>> No.41913681

Sound good.

>> No.41913942

We haven't seen drawfag in ages. A shame really. I was looking forward to seeing rest of party.

>> No.41915022
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Rescuin from 9 before I go out for pizza. I mean, hookers.

>> No.41915705

I am here anons, just a bit tied up.

>> No.41916370

Well I've already waited this long.

A bit longer won't kill me.

>> No.41917571

Right let's fucking do this.

>> No.41917655

Littlebro at this stage has no idea who the bard is, or that I'm present, all he knows is that some weird looking people have turned up dressed as members of his church.

His eyebrows crash together as he processes the bards question.

>who the fuck are you?

>> No.41917732

Now the following is from Vox-DM as it were. As the party had left the last session in a completely retarded way some railroading was in order. We apparently should be grateful we were not just executed on the spot.

>> No.41917856

As I hope I have made clear we recognized just how dim we had been and so when littlebro, in front of the entire congregation who are milling about in the church gestures to a number of his retainers who we were all apparently too stupid to notice look decidedly shifty, and bids us be taken down to the dungeons (I used to live here and I didn't know we had dungeons) we have to balance our desire to remain free against our desire not to kill the still very likely mostly innocent congregation.

>> No.41917939

The long and the short of it, is that we are (without a great deal of fuss) disarmed and frogmarched to the "dungeons" actually the old root cellar.

We are manacled and left alone in the darkness except for the four of those retainers outside the door.

The retainers we note don't talk, they also smell funny, slightly spicy but also like rotting meat.

The manacles themselves the wizard can resolve fairly easily. Getting the door open isn't too hard for the wizard either (mastery of metal is amazing as powers go). However fighting hand to hand is going to be interesting.

>> No.41918078

Acknowledging we have been fucking stupid and that we are very lucky to be alive, we decide to (very quietly) make a plan.

We have all seen enough war movies to know that we should all wait behind the door then wait for the guards to rush in to the room when one of us feigns illness.

As the least useful of the combat characters, this is the bards job.

Go on bard. Perform.

>ow. I am sick. My tummy hurts.

Nothing happens.

>ow oh noes please open the door!


The DM kind of jerks his head at me and the Navvie.

The Navvie kicks the bard in the balls and I do the same a moment later.

The yelp of pain is convincing enough that we hear tumblrs turning in the door.

>> No.41918176
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Probably makes me a dick, but I'd kick the bard in the nuts IRL. Especially if we'd already been at the beer.

>> No.41918196

The retainers open the door. A shaft of light lancing into the room. One half steps in, looking at the bard. It has something which projects light in its hand. That something looks a lot like a soul cube.

It shines the blue light to where we should be.

It emits a hiss of alarm as it realises we are not where we should be.


What follows is a very undignified fight. We get a shock when the hood of one of the retainers falls back, revealing a half rotted skull. Black teeth wet with stinking slather as it bites for the Navvie. As we beat the hell out of them (mostly assisted by surprise and the wizard extremely helpfully summoning nice weighty crowbars) we realise the stink of death is all over these things.

>> No.41918308

He was very much our "that guy" but one who used his powers for good. Most of the time.

Now littlebro in his sermon said fuck all about necromancery but these things are clearly the work of some kind of corpse-fucker.

We prioritize regaining our weaponry, which thanks to my knowledge of the place and indeed logic, we find in a nearby storeroom.

As far as we know the alarm has not been raised. As we proceed through a (new) tunnel we hear footsteps. Ducking into a passage we hear and see littlebro and some retainers leading about a dozen members of the congregation past. Littlebro is explaining (we hear as they pass and as we follow) that as they have donated all their worldly goods, they are ready for the next level of the church.

>> No.41918628

We come into an entirely new room. It's not astonishingly well lit so we follow the group, hiding in the shadows as best we can.

Littlebro has each of the supplicants kneel. The retainers move behind them.

Behind little bro is a big...thing....like an ornate mirrorframe without the mirror.

He bids each of the supplicants open their palms with a knife. They oblige (mostly) without hesitation, each then making a bloody hand print in the book little bro offers them.

Littlebro then speaks some very odd words and the "mirror" shimmers as where before there was nothing there is now a tiny tightly bound ball of blackness. It bursts outward, slipping tendrils around the frame.

In the mirror a necromancer appears. One who will become extremely familiar (we blew up everything in Edinburgh - it's that fucker)

The supplicants are starting to look woozy. Their palms glow with light. They look very ill. Bowels evacuate and eyes burst.

The necromancer speaks.

>Hello littlebro. What news do you bring me?

The Dukes remain too busy loathing one another. Lancaster is obsessed with my "heresy" and amasses forces in what he believes to be secrecy. York will not commit himself unless he is sure Lancaster is not amassing those forces to attack him. Both must treat with me as they fear popular revolt. The plan has succeeded my liege (liche?).
>excellent. You are using the last of my experiments to good effect?
The witches breed well here, and are powerful allies my Lord, and the ghouls (retainers) are loyal and fearsome in my defence. All is well.

>Then a reward. Take these six as ghouls and a further six of the skulls to nurture into witches.

Half a dozen of the supplicants just straight up die. Decaying and mortifying before our eyes. The other six scream as the light from their hands pulses upwards, imagine if your skull suddenly became incredibly hot, like lava hot, and then just burnt through your skin. All the while emitting incandescent light.

>> No.41918735

My Lord I go now to commence the ritual. The congregation has grown to number in the thousands. They fill the great hall and the lands of the estate. With your permission I shall prepare and slaughter them. May they swell the ranks of your forces. For the route to London is clear.

>Very well.

Littlebro looks pleased and bows before "hanging up" the call.

Ok anons, lots of stuff just happened, is it all making sense?

>> No.41918769

Well at least this thread didn't die while I was busy.

>> No.41918913

If I follow, necromancer is plotting to attack London with an undead army. Littlebro cut a deal with him wherein littlebro provides him with bodies and keeps the local lords at each other' throats instead of the necromancer's. In return, littlebro gets his own undead servants, and presumably some boon from the necromancer after that plan goes through.
That approximately what you were trying to get across?

>> No.41919011

This isn't Frank again, right?

You already re-killed him.

>> No.41919178

I'll take that as a yes.

So, now we know what those skull things are about. Also we decide now is definitely the time to initiate some combat.

>why didn't you do it earlier and save those people?

It took us some time to get to grips with what was happening and by then everyone was dead. Also we know exposition when we see it.

As little bro has the ghouls collect the skulls and beckons them upstairs we engage.

The violence itself is quick and very messy. My weapons make the most noise so I elect to follow the Navvie, stabbing things rather than alert the entire building.

Littlebro definitely recognizes me in between pieces back together ghouls. Indeed littlebro seems to have learnt an awful lot from his master. We have to fight step by step as bits of ghoul knit back together and go for us. We are very slowly making for littlebro and he can see we are getting there.

He is clearly thinking about running. Those floating skulls are doing a merry little orbit around him. He bolts. We can't make for him but I'm fast enough to quick draw and get a bead on his running back. It's then I think about what I'm doing. After all, littlebro is little-bro. By the time I get over my thoughts (and roll) he's nearly out the room. The wizard having no qualms flings a harpoon at him and misses. My shot wings him. Making him stumble.

Underground the shot is incredibly loud. Littlebro has been hit but keeps going. Setting in motion whatever inexorable process will come next to serve his master.

The ghouls are still getting back up, but now each time they are slower, as littlebro's attention shifts they grow weaker. It's not long before we are able to follow in his footsteps.

>> No.41919290

This would be Frank-en-Baz's boss. We later fight him at Edinburgh castle subsequent to the acquisition of the purple penguin.

>> No.41919501

Also yes this is correct.

Angus torches the twitching pile of bodies that the ghouls have now become to ensure they won't be following us.

We make for the stairs. The trail of blood from littlebro makes clear we are heading in the right direction.

As we get back to ground level we can hear the screaming and cawing of witches but otherwise things seem "normal"

That is until a cultist runs past us, panting from exertion as a witch follows him, ready to decapitate him.

The wizard puts paid to the witch.

The cultist (once we calm him down) says that a minute or two ago there was a sound like a gunshot and the witches went insane, not wantonly slaughtering but methodically tearing apart people. Limb from limb. Collecting bits and piling them up. Also hats. Apparently the exwife was the first so that's something

>single gunshot
>couple minutes ago
>Aaw shit.

>> No.41919640

We get into the main hall and the scene is as described. The remaining ghouls rush us as do those witches still within. The combat is desperate. We are all injured and very very damaged by the time the last one drops.

We start hunting for littlebro. He doesn't seem to be in the pile of bodies but it's hard to tell.

Outside the rest of the cultists are still being hunted. As the search for littlebro is proving fruitless we decide its best to save lives and head outside, hunting witches through the night.

By morning the witches are all dead, as are a large chunk of the local population.

We still haven't found littlebro.

In the distance from both south east and south west we can hear drums. The drums of both Lancaster and York's armies. They're both marching toward us. Clearly having heard of the events of the night.

>> No.41919687

Right anons. Nearly there but time for bed here. Should (unless I've forgotten something) finish up tomorrow night.

>> No.41919771

We shall see.

Good night.

>> No.41920877

>By morning the witches are all dead, as are a large chunk of the local population.

I'll stand by first choice of name for this chapter >>41853790

>> No.41922216

>Apparently the exwife was the first so that's something
Feels like wasted potential almost.

>> No.41924062


>> No.41925513

Bumping again.

>> No.41927224

Bumping before bed.

>> No.41928119
File: 1.79 MB, 315x177, I'll be in my bunk.gif [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Also bumpin before bed. Runnin out of gifs to bump with, how worrying.

>> No.41930948

Page 10?
Hell no

They are a really fun band.

>> No.41931170

Postan will be late again tonight. 23:00 ish.

Have some light music:

>> No.41932431

Morning bump.

>> No.41934227

I guess this is a lunch time bump.

>> No.41935739

That is a shame.

>> No.41936655

I, for one, am going to miss seeing Opus in a place that isn't my comic books from the 80's.

>> No.41937870
File: 53 KB, 720x261, bc2015 25.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Since I don't trust facebook enough to even visit the site, I have a heck of a hard time finding the new strips in anything larger than this.

>> No.41938175

Be about 45 mins or so folks.

>> No.41938833

Bump because I am a fag.

>> No.41939746

Posting time.


>> No.41939818

Where were we...

Littlebro is still awol. Which is bad.
Lancaster and York are lining up their forces on the field outside the castle. There are bodies and bits of witch everywhere. As the party shyly approach the two armies. Who are about three hundred yards apart we can see cannons and other dwarven artillery being unlimbered. This is gonna be a bloodbath. Lancaster and York can be herd arguing with each other in the centre of the field.

We decide we need to make an entrance.

>> No.41939918

and however we make that entrance, it'd better be good.

The castle itself wasn't too smashed by the night's fighting but there's still some smoke billowing across the field. The haggard remnants of the followers of the church are gathered in small, stunned clumps. While we did manage to save a few, there are not very many (think XCOM terror mission with "poor" in every category).

Lancaster can be heard haranguing York.


Before York gets his reply in, the bard hops up onto a bulletmarked wall as the party walk forwards the bard pipes.


It does exactly what we want it to, we definitely have everybody's attention.

>> No.41939947

From one of the little knots of refugees, some of which are dotted between the armies a voice rises to conflict with the pipes.


Hello Ex-wife.

>I thought she was dead?

>Apparently the exwife was the first [to die] so that's something

>> No.41939975

Yeah, that figures.

>> No.41940107

Lancaster and York do not react very well to this. The party and Ex-wife meet in the centre of the field with Lancaster and York.

The argument is loud if not particularly articulate.

>They started this, they shot Littlebro! They are the reason all these people are dead!

York seems to believe her (she is technically correct) Lancaster takes the slightly more sensible tack of asking us

>did you do this?

Wellllllllll yes sort of....

>Those flying things were you?

No. That wasn't us.

>Them killing everyone was?


>Why did they kill everybody?

Because Littlebro was shot! (screams ex-wife)

Because Littlebro was in league with the necromancers! (we shout)

Neither of the Dukes look convinced and they are clearly looking for an excuse to disagree with one another.

>> No.41940140

As was said, unlike DM to miss an opportunity

Don't believe anything my ex-husband says!

>you're ex-husband? You're that Aldous?


>Why should we believe the drunk?

The Navvie and Wizard speak up or try to. (thanks guys)

>Shush you ceilingscrapers, this is dwarf business.
(fuck you DM).

>> No.41940200

York asks
>what have you done with Littlebro? The de-facto lord of this manor? You said you shot him didn't you?

Lancaster is starting to realise that although there's not many followers of Littlebro around, York might be choosing a side, if York is choosing a side, Lancaster is damned if he isn't going to be on the opposite side. He bristles.

Clearly there was some taint here...they have wiped it out, as I ordered.


>> No.41940246

Technically, Lancaster is correct, he did ask us to do this (sort of). The dumb bastard is also spoiling for a fight.

York's normally big smiling face goes stone cold.

>As. You. Ordered.

Ex-wife is pretty good at turning a situation to her advantage, standing by York now, she takes his hand in hers, YES! THEY DID THIS!

We have one chance before this turns into a total complete and utter mess, the armies here could very easily wipe each other out pointlessly, then there goes London and there goes Britbongsteros. We really are not qualified for this.

>> No.41940364

Really, "not qualified for this" could be the slogan for more than half of your party's escapades.

>> No.41940412

Now I come to think of it, you're entirely right.

There's some quote about the British army which I am trying very hard to recall. Something about improvising victory from defeat?

>> No.41940472

York turns on his heel. Ex-wife is very careful to make sure she stays exactly in step with him (no flies on her) Lancaster mirrors the motion.

>Argh fuck fuck fuck quick do something!

The DM gives us all a moment. We all talk over each other.

Ok lads, whoever rolls highest gets a go to save the situation.

Dice are rolled.

Angus gets the highest roll.

>> No.41940498

And the situation's chances of going up in flames just increased.

>> No.41940569

The fate of the nation hangs by a thread.

>Angus quick do something!

Fuck errrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

DM: Hurry up Angus....

Oh cock.....

DM: Hmm? Did you say that?

Oh cock, oh fuck, no yes what? Ahem I mean...

>If you stick your cock in an arsehole, makes sure it's wiped first.

Lancaster turns first. SODOMY? WHAT? WHERE?

York turns back, "That is...that is actually quite good advice...."

>Angus you glorious green bastard

>> No.41940600

It figures he'd solve this with dick diplomacy.

>> No.41940676

I won't go into enormous detail on the social stuff that followed but we were able to convince the two Dukes that if they were going to fight, they should have a nation to fight over first. If the Undead took London, then they were next anyway, the two aren't very happy with each other's existence, but they do agree to march to meet the undead together.

The issue remains, where the fuck has littlebro gone?

We have a little party conference and it is decided that it's probably best not to let the two Dukes march together without the party as mediating influence, especially with ex-wife around.

It will however take a few hours to get both armies ready for the longer march, and (hopefully) they can be trusted to do that themselves.

The hunt for littlebro is on.

>> No.41940755

Taking a moment to reply to things which I haven't done yet.

I think this or blowing something up was generally our go-to.

I agree, I'll never look at a Penguin in the same way after all this.

What the hell was this?

>> No.41940803


We descend into the tunnels of the castle again and pick up the blood trail easily enough (there's not much actual blood down in the lower level - plenty upstairs). We follow the congealed blood to a door, the Navvie "opens" said door and we come into a small store-room. Again I should remember this being here. I don't.

The blood trail stops in the centre of the room.

Examination of the room shows a lack of secret passages or revolving fireplaces. The boxes and shelved items do not indicate an obvious hiding place.

We theorize he may have stopped here to try to bind the wound and at least staunch the flow of blood.

We don't know if he would have died without medical attention but he is also some sort of necromancer's pet. So it's also possible he was mostly dead anyway.

>> No.41941002

This still clearly begs the question of where the fuck has he gone?

Further investigation doesn't turn up shredded clothing or similar indicators of first aid. We have learnt our lesson and looked up as soon as we got into the room sooooo....Where is he?

We decide to get some light on the situation. With the lantern lit we start to notice the ants.

Ants are ok right? Little tiny things. Harmless in the UK so who cares? There's a little trail of them going from the blood to a eeeeny little hole in the wall.

The bard who is interested entomology has a closer look.

>those aren't ants.

>> No.41941129

I'm guessing they're all sporting little beards like the one littlebro has.

>> No.41941178

Well if they aren't ants what are they? Beetles? We have learnt that anything Even slightly weird is generally to be construed as a bad sign. We hear a vague tapping sound from behind the wall. The bricks shift and strain. We get the sensation of a cocoon or seeing a pregnant belly move.

There comes what I like to think of as a defining moment for the party.

We back out of the room.

The Navvie still has a couple sticks of TNT. With assistance from Angus he lights one and rolls it in. As we retreat to a safe distance we can hear masonry fall.

We were being watched.

We cover our ears as the blast rocks the building. Entirely deafening in the closed quarters.

Angus doesn't look into the room he just torches it. Playing fire across the smoking wreckage.

When we finally look into the room a vaguely animated skeleton takes half a step toward us then falls to the floor. It's wearing a medallion. The medallion seems to have spread tendrils of gold through the chest of the wearer. Like a second nervous system almost.

The DM seems rather annoyed that we just took off and nuked the site from orbit rather than stuck around.

I take a moment to pay my respects, crushing the skull with my boot to make sure he stays down.

>> No.41941261

So with an end to littlebro, we rejoin the armies. York and Lancaster have already argued twice but haven't gotten into any fights yet.

The party are careful to stay between the two of them on the march north. We avoid any real confrontation mostly by dint of keeping Lancaster amused by Angus and the Wizards antics. York is a bit more bothersome as ex-wife is hanging around like a bad smell. She has however worked out that York is too much of a womanizer to tame and is looking for her next victim. The only eligible batchelor as such amongst the party is Angus. So she doesn't really bother us either.

>> No.41941380

Through several arguments it is decided we will meet the undead between Thirsk and Snape (yes it's a real place). Our objective is simple survival. To re-dead as many corpses as we can. This won't be a conflict of manoeuvre and guile, this will be standing and holding the line against the wave of bodies coming from the north. The more we put down, the more likely it is to weaken the necromancer and make this push on London fail. If that happens it'll be enough to buy time for a counterassault or at least to shore up defences.

Fortunately this is the sort of warfare the dwarves excell at. York deploys on the left of the valley and Lancaster the right. If Lancaster didn't insist on calling the marching undead "Yorkshireans" we might feel good about things.

We entirely expect the two to double cross each other.

>> No.41941485

A little note on Dorf millitary forces:

Much like Warhammer really. Staunch ranged infantry who are not bad in melee either. Heavily armoured and armed with rifles, pistols, heavy cutlasses, there are a large number of grenadiers. The most potent things are their gatling guns, spigot mortars and rifled cannons and the rest of the artillery train. The elite of the army are very heavy infantry who practice a weird form of the highland charge. They have heavy tower shield which will more than stop a bullet. The shield has a device like a claymore mine on the front. A regiment will advance behind these, at a set distance ignite the mine, causing an enormous and hugely deadly spray of musket balls, then charge from behind those shield with greataxes. It's a dated form of war but a nice touch I thought.

>> No.41941570

Right anons, sleeping time here. I will leave you all with a choice, I can gloss over the battle or take my time tomorrow night. One means keeping it all in one place and the other means a second (but truncated thread) after.

>> No.41941606

Additionally, anons who like history may find themselves thinking of a certain historical battle as we get into this. I'll leave it open and if anyone wants to play along, I'll see who guesses first.

>> No.41941984

>take my time tomorrow night.
If you don't mind

I'll try and think of >>41941606, my first though was Culodden, but that doesn't fit at all.

Two commanders who don't like each other, with the goal of simply holding, and all the guns - Balaclava?

>> No.41942159

Seconding. Especially Balaclava.

>> No.41943290

Right, so we should expect at least three more threads somehow then.

I don't know how, but you've pulled it off before.

>> No.41945390


>> No.41947575
File: 129 KB, 604x720, bc2015 26.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Bumping before bed.

How appropriate.

>> No.41950061

Bump for noon.

>> No.41952069

Bump before work

>> No.41953708

Afternoon bump.

>> No.41955375
File: 52 KB, 720x261, bc2015 27.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]


>> No.41956513

Greetings anons.Posting time about nowish.

>> No.41956783


Well you got it in one guess. That was clearly easier than I thought.

Taking mah time then.

There's only so much to tell! I hope. Though given this came from a quick post while drinking a cup of tea, we're not doing too badly. Of course the setting itself ended with a veritable baitshop of plot hooks.

>> No.41956923
File: 1.56 MB, 3456x2304, press-map-reading-on-barden-moor.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google] [report]

Ok this isn't the exact valley but it's Yorkshire and close enough.

Triangles are artillery, squares are line infantry, diamonds are elite infantry, white and red is York, and red and white lis lancaster, the purple blob is us.

The big white arrow is the dead.

>> No.41956994

I'm thinking I'll just crop the picture when updating the wiki page.

I tend to include any crude MS paint edits you include, albeit resized if they're massive.

>> No.41957132

Cropping would have been really smart, thanks anon.

>What is actually in the undead army?

We have no real idea, necromancers are limited by their own imagination (and to a lesser extent resources) If they want to make a giant magic bone based tank, then they can. It's often more useful though (and easier to control) loads of skellies. They will however definitely have giants. Fortunately we have dwarven artillery.

On this scale (and at the level) the party are not able to just cleave through an entire battle line however so our role will be as problem solvers. Perhaps to shore up the line where it waves, or to take out anything particularly big and nasty (again that thing about being woefully underqualified...)

>> No.41957217

Bone based tank...

Reminds me of the skeleton centipede armored train.
Tireless, goes fast, miniature models modified to look like carriages (but actually skeleton spiders) used to plow snow.

>> No.41957539

We have had the luxury of the day to entrench our positions but we know full well that the undead needing neither sleep or light will come with the darkness.

A peaceful late summer evening becomes a late-summer night, clouds roll lazily across a harvest moon.

We (or the dwarves anyway) have set up a killing field and we've filled ditches with tar out across that field to provide illumination and further funnel the undead.

Zombies and skeletons are not smart, necromancers however are, and we full expect some sort of ruse or surprise attack, anything to break our lines or give those skeletons the advantage.

There are enough scouts that the troops are able to sleep in shifts, dozing in their armour where they lie.

The mood is one of determination not jubiliation. We are here to stop them, not to conquer, not to plunder, but to stand firm, a bulwark against which the tide of bodies will wash.

The fate of the land and the ungrateful, uncaring nobility, the mass of downtrodden peasantry, this wonderful weird land hangs in the balance.

Victory here will not end the war, it will not even greatly weaken the undead, but it will stop the advance for now.

>> No.41957744

Fuck. It ate my entire post.

Have some unrelated and yet entirely related music.


Lancaster has been seen sermonising, speaking out against sin, debauchery and other veniality which (according to him) lead to undeath. He has whipped his followers into a frenzy several times. He has not however been doing anything greatly useful, like siting his guns. This task was left to us.

York, in response to Lancaster proceeded to get steadily more and more drunk. It doesn't seem to have impaired him but so have his troops. He and they are more obstreperous than usual. We do our best to sit between the two camps and break up fights before they turn too serious.

The Undead have (according to scouts) advanced slowly during the day, but with the night have increased in speed significantly.

The first real notice we have of their approach is a swarm of beasts of the field, live rats, mice, hedgehogs, even some deer, they scuttle through the grass and heather, birds fly over head as though escaping a wildfire.

What follows are those creatures that were too small to turn to the necromancer's will but which have still reanimated, tiny crushed and broken bodies, crawling and yet still driven by the imperative to flee in their decaying minds, in this wave also come those refugees who fell by the wayside, those who were too broken in body to fight with the skeletons, and yet still convinced that they are alive. The first task as our forces muster is to put down the old, the sick, and the young. We do not check too closely for signs of injury, knowing what is coming.

>> No.41958078


These are all things we had expected but it puts the mind on edge. Fear is one of the greatest advantages of the undead. They have none and the living have plenty reason to be afraid.

There is a scent...or maybe a taste to the air.

For everyone it is different.

The scent of the cakes grandmother used to make before the illness. The way your father's hands used to hold you before the accident. The way your little brother laughed before the horse kicked him in the head. The way your best friend always would smile before you killed him in a drunken rage.

>The way your wife was so happy before your little girl was taken away.

>> No.41958097

We can feel it ourselves, the troops can feel it too. For everyone a private sadness, the sort of thoughts that come to a man when he confronts the cosmic infinite in his own bed, knowing that every act, every small moment of happiness ripped and hoarded from the great darkness will run through his fingers like sand. All good things must fade. No happiness is eternal. The sweetest flower will wilt, the most beautiful of women will die, and all is dust.

Think anon of yourself, you for all the comfortable certainties of your life, you yourself will one day die. That is the cosmic inveitability, we all will. We tell ourselves that Tuesday follows Monday, but for you, the ultimate reality is it will not. Think of each and every man on that field confronting that with none of the warm reassuring thoughts of home, of those things we tell ourselves will make the night seem less cold.

Feel that creeping knowledge that every heart beat in your chest is entropy, ticking down to a death that is all the more certain with every passing second.

It saps morale, men look into the darkness and there, just as the tar-pits are lit, can be seen ranks of the undead stretching into the horizon. Look into that anon, and see death and try to cling to the tiny bead of light that you are in the uncaring darkness of the universe.

>> No.41958172

So, anyway, got a bit carried away there.

Now is clearly the right time for some sort of inspiriation. Lancaster is praying all the harder, York is staring into a tankard.

Well...looks like our job.

The party stand in front of the two armies and turn to them. They know fine well who we are and why we're here. We have some small reputation now and maybe we are worth listening to.

The bard does his best to perform, and kicks into a song.

It's not quite the roll we hoped for.


but it's good enough.

DM: Whoever wants to speak, get rolling.

>> No.41958242

We split, deciding two different speeches are probably better than one.

The wizard speaks to Lancaster's troops.

>You follow a God who will usher you into the light when the time comes, until then, what you do on this mortal earth is what will count in the final reckoning. Make it count.

The Navvie is a man of few words but when he speaks, they generally follow one another in a logical fashion and carry some weight to them.

The cosmos and the human condition are not for him.

>The dead are dead. That's all they are. One day you will be too. It's what you do before that happens that counts, and between now and then I'm going to fuck as many fat arsed girls as I can. and I'll slaughter any bony fuck that stands between me and them.

This goes over surprisingly well with York's forces.

>> No.41958373

It's not long after this that the guns on the hills start to roar. Mortars spitting flame and fire into the darkness, cannons firing more slowly, tracking and trying to target the giants that can be seen amongst the ranks of the undead.

The undead meet the line infantry in the centre of the field. The Dwarves make them pay for every step before they meet their lines with shot and shell, but when the two forces do meet it becomes a slow meatgrinder of a combat, the two lines press, ebbing and flowing, neither army will break and neither will give quarter.

The party have taken up position between Lancaster and York as the two watch from behind the lines, about fifty odd yards apart. The Undead press hardest on Lancaster's troops.

Orders are taken from this command post (that we are at) to reserves or gun batteries, each of the Dukes commanding forces that are thrown into the general melee. The death toll is enormous but the Dwarves hold.

Lancaster commits his heavy infantry in a flank charge that twists the undead line back.

It's about now that we see the undead creatures (ghouls maybe?) scaling the cliff toward Lancaster's now unprotected guns.

York orders some of his reserves to engage, to protect and retake the guns if necessary. The men begin to slog up the hill, as it evens out breaking into a run.

The undead have not just taken the guns, but turned them.

York's force charge straight into the teeth of the guns and the few that make it fall to the ghouls atop the rise. The loss of the guns not only reduces our firepower but as the ghouls turn the guns on Yorks across the valley, we are in a lot of trouble.

The party are volun-told to do something about them.

>> No.41958459



Whatever we do it has to be fast.

We plan as we run for the guns.

The Wizard is able to smooth our ascent with summoned pitons and then as we scale the rise, we engage the ghouls at close range.

The fighting is extremely messy indeed. The ghouls are tenacious and there are a lot more of them than we expected. The rest of York and Lancaster's reserves are meant to follow us up once we distract the gunners and by god do we make enough noise and raise enough hell to do that.

The Navvie tosses TNT, the Wizard is able to man an organ gun, Angus and I run interence with shot and flame. The bard is the bard as usual.

We form a knot of resistance in the gun battery. They are still getting some shells off but we suppress, distract and ensure they are focussed entirely on us.

We steal a glance back down the hill.

The reserves have been engaged by what look like cavalry.

We are cut off.



>> No.41958491


Fuck it, there's ten posts left in this thread. I'm tempted to end on a cliffhanger (ok you all know we live) but these are fun.

One more thread?

>> No.41958513


But only if you're going to be around for long enough tonight to make the new thread stick.

>> No.41958784

I was more thinking another thread this weekend/next if that is ok with anon?

>> No.41958884

Might as well start updating the 1d4chan page now.

That's gonna take at least an hour or more I guess.

>> No.41958900

Alright, but if you make it on a Thursday again after saying weekend you can probably expect the same results as the thread this one was made to replace.

It's hard keeping up with them when you don't know when they're coming.

>> No.41959095

Haha, it is a bit tricky knowing when to start them. Anon has a point there.

>> No.41959847

Just before I go, one final thing, most sincerely, thank you wiki-anon.

>> No.41960694

I just looked at the wiki. Is all of this worth reading?

>> No.41960739

I've enjoyed it. You don't have to read it all at once, if that helps.

>> No.41962700

That took much longer than I thought it would.

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