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42423996 No.42423996 [Reply] [Original] [4plebs] [archived.moe]

Greetings anons.

A big fight.
A trip to an island
A new friend
Mongoose or mongeese?
Typing up loose ends.
Meeting the purple Penguin

So, if /tg/ still likes these and because I leave the country in a couple weeks, let's go out with a bang.

>I have missed 20 threads, wut is this?
It's storytime. /tg/ seems to like it
There is a wiki curated by an awesome anon, this may help you.


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. Currently we are marrying up the pre-penguin tales with the tale of the purple Penguin.

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 yet to join in properly. She pops up every so often and figures fairly largely in this current adventure though.

>> No.42424065

>where the fuck have you been?
Planning and organising three months in another hemisphere is complicated.

>what's going on?

We are in the middle of a very big battle.

As always the fate of the nation hangs in the balance.

I'm going to post the last couple posts from previous thread as they're the most efficient way to bring everyone up to speed.
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.42424091



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.42424184

Now that that is done, we can continue.

So basically, we are boned.

Down the valley the dorfs don't seem to be doing too well either.

Our immediate issue is ghouls. The more havoc we cause the better.

We don't know if we should be spiking the guns but we settle for doing what we do best.

>Kill everything.

>> No.42424286

Of course indiscriminately tossing explosives about and using a flamethrower in an artillery battery is extremely unwise.

We realise this shortly after the enormous explosion which knocks us off our feet.

Fortunately we are unharmed. Mostly.

We didn't set off the ammo dump but we did take out a fair number of the guns and of course lots of ghouls. Which is good.

Shortly after we are starting to thin their numbers.Looking down into the valley things look very warhammer has dorfs and skeletons fight, the necromancer can be seen hovering over the ranks of his troops, sucking souls from those stupid enough to face him. The undead giants plough into units of dorfs.

We could man a gun or two, which might help, or...we could help the reserves.

Man (and orchandling) a gatling gun toward the melee slightly down the hill we are able to assist somewhat. Though indiscriminate fire into a melee does lead to some friendly fire...

>> No.42424424

The dead dorfs however are starting to rise. The undead horsemen don't seem to be staying dead either.

It's DM decision time.

Ok. If that lot get up here, we are dead.

Can we save the dorfs?
Err...We could charge down there...
>there's five of you...
We could...
>tick tock
>sixty odd dorfs left, couple hundred skellies...they're right below you...

There is a hint here, an obvious one. Question is, are we going to go for it...

>> No.42424486

>Can we/should we kill the dwarves to save ourselves?
We don't want to but...We are gonna have to...

We are all complicit as we prepare kegs of gunpowder with fuses, lighting and rolling them off the cliff face and down. The series of large explosions brings very little room for screaming but we can definitely smell something like bacon.

>Bard: is anyone else hungry? Lets get pizza.

>> No.42424540

We concentrate now on spiking the guns. If we can't have them, neither should the enemy. The battle proper seems to be about even. We think a little cannon fire might assist there. We leave one of the the most accurate and modern looking weapons untouched

>> No.42424645

Several minutes of ooc discussion about pizza interrupt things. Giving the DM more than enough time to plot. N.b. he's a vegetarian. Not terribly relevant but I think it somehow goes to the root of his bastardry.

Looking down over the field with a crew served weapon and aiming over open sights we reckon we must be able to pick off some high value targets.

We start sniping giants which actually goes reasonably well as even a miss sends bits of skeletons everywhere.

The necromancer doesn't take long to notice however. The first bolt of lightning is a near miss. The second we think probably won't be.

We aim carefully and...entirely fucking miss.

We get off another shot at him which crosses paths with the actinic bolt of lightning that arcs toward us. We dive for cover as the shell explodes below.

>> No.42424681

Looking down, we seem to have very definitely pissed him off.


He starts to float up the hill toward us.

>Less good.

>> No.42424763

On further consideration of this issue...

We notice the DM has actually written out an actual speech. A real, live, BBEG speech.


We pile up some shells and powder. Angus and the wizard light a fuse. We obscure the whole lot with a tarp just as our new necrmancer friend pops over the edge of the cliff.

We retreat back into the and turn to face him.

The DM is a bit miffed that the necromancer fails to notice our trap as he levitates nearby to it.

>> No.42424841

>and now is the winter of your discontent!
The sky darkens as the necromancer flings his arms wide.

We can see the fuse is just about to hit the kegs.

>Now is the end of the world of the living. I shall allow you mortals to fight me, to make one last effort in the face of the inevitable.

As we collectively jump backwards into the shellhole we have at our backs. It can only be one last statement.

>Get fucked you bony bast...

The munitions go off and once earth stops falling and we can hear again. We peek over the lip of the crater.


>DM: I have got to stop giving you cunts explosives.

>> No.42424897

We look down into the valley, the battle still rages but the dwarves are regrouping and seem to be turning the tide. The necromancer isn't dead but seems to be at the very least retreating. He is also on fire.

It seems we have accidentally broken another campaign.

We feel oddly pleased about this.

>> No.42424943

As regards the rest of the battle, there's not much else to note in detail, we get stuck in but without the necromancer nearby to micromanage the skeletons are weaker and soon the field is ours. This is excellent. Casualties have been extremely heavy however. The victory is phyrric for the dwarves.

We on the other hand have "saved" London and gotten the attention of the Queen.

>> No.42425034

The necromancer has returned to Edinburgh to lick his wounds. So for now the invasion is off.

A short trip to London later sees us meet Queenie herself for the first time. She is in the bath when she receives us. She still has a small rubber duck.

She doesn't seem particularly enamoured of us, originally thinking us to be 'some sort of variety act? Possibly the Aristocats?'

Once she is informed who and what we are, she decides she has a mission for us. A very special mission, she says, idly signing another death warrant.

>I am very fond of smoked herring and something seems to have happened to the isle of Man. Fix it.

We are not stupid enough to tell her she already has us doing something. This we assume takes precedence.

Now I originally wasn't going to bother with this story as its silly but at the end of it, we fall off the boat and five minutes later are exactly where we started (as in the first screencap). So, if anon wishes I will tell the silly story.

>> No.42425186
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Please do tell.

I was beginning to wonder if I'd missed the final, and ultimately connecting, Britbongsteros

>> No.42425229

As I never time these well, I will see if this gets any bites, but if nothing else, that is technically, me finished. Though in saying that...Well fuck it. It is a fun story. If mildly stupid. I might as well carry on.

>Smoke me a kipper, I'll be back for breakfast

>> No.42425399

No, I'm just terrible at timing these. Still it'll be nice to give you all a complete saga from start to finish. Which this will be. Annoyingly though the epilogue I typed out reminded me of so many plot hooks I kinda want to investigate this world again.

The Isle of Man: chief exports - kippers. The north end of it is populated. The south end (due to what used to be a research institute with links to Aberdeen and various other magical folk) is now entirely uninhabitable since said institute went full Chernobyl about fifty years back. The north end however has a thriving fishing and kipper smoking community, of which, Queenie is very fond of their produce when it comes to breakfast.

Though being a faerie she probably has them done in blood or something.

No one has heard much from the Isle of Man in a couple of months, and no kippers have reached the mainland either.

Reports from ships say the harbour was empty and that there was an air of foreboding such as the crew would not venture ashore.

The Isle of Man is of course near Ireland, so it is assumed Cthulu has eaten everybody, Queenie however likes kippers from there and this is why we find ourselves aboard the armed trawler, HMS Irrefutable, being battered by the worst storm the Irish sea has seen in a good number of years.

>> No.42425453

We discover that the Navvie gets sea-sick in bad enough weather, as does the Wizard. Angus is already green so he's fine. The bard according to his rolls is loving the situation.

The rest of us mostly alternate between wishing we were dead or praying that the boat doesn't sink and kill us.

>> No.42425596

The crew of the vessel are largely laconic and generally uncommunicative but will be back for us in a week. Which as we stand, alone on the quay in Ramsay makes us feel rather isolated.

>> No.42425725

Last post before bed.

The port is entirely empty. No signs of fighting. Also no one around. It's very eerie but also a situation we are already familiar with as this happens to us a lot.

We start cautiously searching. Expecting to find hordes of zombies or a seething mass of tentacles or a shoggoth or something. Instead. Nothing. It's clear there's something up but this time there's no clues as to what. We do note however the animals are gone too. No dogs, no cats, not even flies. It's all very odd.

>> No.42428347
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Caught it live, my shitty week suddenly just went better!

>N.b. he's a vegetarian. Not terribly relevant but I think it somehow goes to the root of his bastardry.

>> No.42428452
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>Annoyingly though the epilogue I typed out reminded me of so many plot hooks I kinda want to investigate this world again.
please do.

>> No.42428552

Oh here we go.

>> No.42429381
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I wish I could find these in better sizes.

But I need some bump fodder, and this is the best there is.

>> No.42430562
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>> No.42430700
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Now I'm gonna go to bed and hope that the thread is still here when I wake up.

>> No.42430901

Good morning anons


As I say the place is empty but we treat it as though there's a dire cazador around every corner.

>Angus: maybe they've all gone for lunch?

On a more sensible not there are no boats in harbour, which is to be expected for a busy fishing village. Except staring down into the waters it seems like a number have been sunk. So that's probably not good.

We are in the midst of arguing when we spot movement from within a chandlers. Naturally we drop all pretense at thought and give chase

>> No.42432196

Yay, it's back. Also, bump.

>> No.42432572

For those of you who like live posting I will be posting intermittently through the early evening and then about nine-ish we will go through this adventure and get it all neatly tied up.

>then no doubt someone will remind me I've forgotten something.

>> No.42432723

And now here we find ourselves at the end, the glorious last stand. I'm glad I caught at least part of it live otherwise the Playlist I put together for this would have gone entirely to waste.

>> No.42433725

I'm going to post this now as a postscript to tonight's adventure.

>London. 2015. September. A wet friday afternoon just as the clocks strike pint o'clock.
Deep beneath the earth, in the darkness of the world, behind steel and stone, the final portal is swung aside.
Shaking hands lift a box in an archive which has not been opened in decades. Ancient weapons and mouldered leather within. Blowing dust brought down from the ceiling by another bomb blast, cracked lips moisten by a tongue stained with blood. Wizened hands reach within the box. Into the half light rises a tiny purple toy. It's button eyes catch the light in a stare that would melt steel beams.

>your time has come again little one... >Your country needs you.

>> No.42434095

I imagine he'd be somewhat miffed having been kept in a box for over 100 years.

>> No.42435665
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>> No.42435829

Good afternoon anons. Still on course for posting about 21:00 unless my mild addiction to Wargame Red Dragon gets in the way.

>> No.42437610
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Keeping it up then.

>> No.42438378
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>> No.42439303

Bump of storytime commencing shortly.

>> No.42439528
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Shortly being now.

We pursue whatever it was we just saw. It's small and fast as all hell. It is however our only lead. It was definitely watching us and bolted as soon as spotted.

The door of the Chandlers is no obstacle to large hammer.

Searching inside turns up lots of sails, no people and something small and very very fast.

We point various weapons (and some bagpipes at it) the wizard is able to wing it with an iron ball which knocks it flat and over a box. Surrounding the little fucker, it seems we've cornered a large weasel.

>> No.42439571

It very slowly raises its hands.

"I surrender..."

Dafuq DM?

No furfaggotry in here.

"I'm Gef"

Suddenly something clicks for the Wizard.

>Aah it's a Mongoose

The fuck are you talking about?


>> No.42439720
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The back door is kicked in. A large chap with a most impressive tache points an extremely big rifle at us.

>I'm Mary. You have a problem with that.

>DM shows us a picture.

>Pic related.

That is definitely a punt gun.

>> No.42439809

Well...this just got slightly mad.


>Hello err...Gef...and hello ...Mary....

Goodness that is an entirely stupidly big gun.

"What have you bastards done with all the people?"

>We just got here! That wasn't us...

"Then where is everybody?"

The Mongoose has scuttled up to sit on his shoulder.

The Navvie, sotto voce utters
>Who is this nutter?


>> No.42439863

Time to kill some dirt dragons.

>> No.42439930

>Where did you come from?
On closer inspection, he looks like he's been living rough for a while.
"The south side of the island"
>No one lives there. You're lying. Was this you?
The punt gun goes back up, aiming at us
>Ok obviously that was the wrong question...

>> No.42440026

We ask him if (assuming we believe him) he knows where everybody went, or at least how long they have been missing for.

Apparently he and the rat come to town once a month or so, and this being the day of the month they do, he has as much idea as we do.

He does however seem pretty keen to help out. We offer to enlist this looney.

>> No.42440248

I'm having brain problems right now I think.

Who is saying they came from the south end of the island?
Mary or the party?

>> No.42440573

Usually it's best to assume anon, that if anyone is being retarded, it's me.

Mary is saying he lives at the South end.

>> No.42440821

>Why is he called Mary?
According to the DM - Well the Mongoose of (the wiki link) talked to someone called Mary. Not everyone could see him, but he always spoke to her, and apparently "I needed a name"

We ask him about his pet.

>Wizard: Fits at rat aboot?

What rat?

>The whin on yer shoolder?

What. Rat?

>Furrae thing, next tae yer heid?

Is this a trick?


Ok so it seems like he is unaware of it. Which is...odd...

The Mongoose gives us a wave.

Shortly afterwards, we decide to head southwards and see if we can find the rest of the folk. Mary says he won't come with us, but he will be around. (DM avoiding DM PC) and will be keeping an eye on us, so we don't steal anything apparently.

>> No.42440839

The more perceptive anons amongst you may recall on some of the crudely drawn maps, the Isle of Man is marked as something along the lines of "NEVER GO HERE" well what follows is why.

>> No.42440944

The party have, for the most part, seen Tremors, so we are entirely sure that if there's something going underground, we already know what we're doing.

The DM is very shortly afterwards sick of us looking for holes where someone might've been sucked down, and carefully analysing the ground beneath us to ensure we are walking on rock.

Such meta-knowledge is frowned upon in Britbongsteros.

>> No.42441055

We're well into the island and a good distance from the sea when the DM has us all start rolling.

Balls. Probably not a good sign.

We are on a road with plenty of vegetation either side, but lots of stones beneath, so we're probably fine.

We think.

Then several things happen at once.

The wizard is on point, he is told he can sense "something out of the ordinary nearby" being a prudent man, he sends a ball bearing slowly hovering down the road in the direction he can sense. He is somewhat surprised when it simply dissapears about ten feet in front of us.

Off to one side, something moves in the bushes.

>> No.42441188
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The rustling sees the party prepare for a fight. The wizard is however much more curious about what's going on ahead.

He sends an iron bar to follow the ball bearing. Noting that it seems to dissolve at a fixed point about ten feet ahead of us.

Meanwhile, Angus helpfully says "Make yourself known or we will shoot."

The rustling continues.

"Last warning."

Rustling comes from either side of us now. We think this is definitely some sort of ambush.

The party open fire on either side of us.

>Pic related occurs.

>> No.42441269

With the ferns shot flat (and a large amount of the west side of path on fire) we eventually stop firing.

There's no bodies. Nothing.

Closer inspection reveals some larger plants which are leaking an unusual colour of sap (bright green) but beyond that, nothing.

The Navvie makes to move forwards and off the trail.

The Wizard grabs him by the shoulder as he passes him.

The Wizard tosses another ball bearing. It dissapears like the first.

>dafuq is that about?

The Wizard take a step to the right, and does the same.

Then another.

This process repeats, until a ball bearing lands on the ground with a satisfying thud. We advance a few steps, and do the same. The wizard's innate abilities and ball bearings leading us around the anomaly.



>> No.42441327
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>> No.42441358

So the DM shows you a picture of Burt and you all just assume you'll be dealing with Graboids?

I can't believe Tremors 5 is being released October 6th.

>> No.42441399

Some distance away, we hear an enormous gunshot. It can only be the punt gun. So that must be Mary.

We decide to make for it. He must've been making for us following the fusillade of fire we just unleashed. He may be in trouble and that thing doesn't reload fast.

The Wizard's detection doesn't ping so we make fairly good speed, we hear another blast from the punt gun followed by a hell of a lot of pistol fire.

We're PCs. We are...simple creatures. It should be noted, that the DM had originally planned Graboids. Our meta annoyed him.

>> No.42441414

Also. Pure joy. I love the tremors movies. Mostly for the (hilariously anti-gun) patron saint of /k/

>> No.42441556

We crest the small rise, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EVWESrIt3uk and find Mary standing with a revolver in each hand, smoke rising from both barrels. The punt gun a good two feet shorter than it started out lying on the ground in beside him.

He spins to face us. Holding up his hand.

The wizard detects another anomaly in front of Mary. We are starting to theorize what may have happened to the townsfolk (we did not investigate the town very closely did we... and if walking into an anomaly dissolves you...then it's possible that's where they've all gone).

Mary holds up a pistol in front of his mouth in a clear "shush" motion.

>> No.42441589

Apparently Tremors 5 will be set in Africa and the Graboids there are much meaner.

Well at least you forced him to do something less predictable.

>> No.42441686

There's definitely something in the bushes.

Lots of somethings.

The plants move and sway.

Angus decides defoliation is a very sensible notion.

As plants burn movement can clearly be seen. We unload on it. Meanwhile from our flank, something rustles a bush next to Mary.

Mary manages "Clever girl" before it leaps.

The thing looks like a velociraptor with mouth full of tentacles. As Mary goes down, he screams "Kill the beastie!" which helpfully provides us with a taxonomic classification.

There's also a lot more of them.

>> No.42441787

Now I'm having trouble finding specific reference to this thing online, but according to the DM's sources this thing had a pedigree having been seen in 1910 (in our world) a couple times on the Isle (or at least a large lizardy thing)

In any event, we do what we do best.

The dead creatures soon litter the road. Mary it seems is pretty severely wounded, he asks we leave him there, he'll catch up.

We do our best to bind his wounds and prop him up. Leaving him with his weapons reloaded and head southwards.

>> No.42441852

As the mongoose reappears from wherever it was hiding, we leave them be. As we head onwards, the anomalies become more frequent. The beasties can be heard moving around, but none attack. The countryside starts changing as we proceed, the ferns and heather giving way to windswept trees, a small forest. The anomalies are easier to spot (half a tree for example).

>> No.42442128

Half a tree... so the anomalies are recent and not because of the magical metldown mentioned earlier.

Or at least have started spreading recently if they were caused by that.

>> No.42442705

Perceptive anon, very perceptive indeed.

Of course this is lost on us as a party.

Just because the anomalies are easier to spot, doesn't make them any less dangerous. The weirdness starts to ramp up the further south we go. Though it's still light, the woods seem darker, stranger.

We're somewhere near Stony Mountain Plantation (so named because there's a great big stoney mountain surprisingly enough, no really, it's on the map) when the familiar rustling comes again.

There's no bushes or shrubs for them to be hiding in.

We look up.


They're not quite in the walls, but they are in the canopy.

The combat, although were I a drawfag, would be awesome, is not very exciting to describe, aside from the Navvie successfully intercepting a flying leap and smacking a beastie in the face with his hammer, sending it back the opposite direction, it should land in a small stream. Instead it explodes. Which is new.

>> No.42442910

Usually when something explodes after being hit with a hammer, it's as it is being hit with it.
Being able to pull of that delayed damage thing you see so often with swords in video games (and other stuff) only with a hammer would be a spectacle.

>> No.42442917

There's still plenty of beasties coming for us when a crack like thunder rolls across the sky. The beasties all pause, their heads snapping upwards. Looking into the distance and the source of the sound.

>blowout stalker

>> No.42442946

For clarity, it hit an anomaly, a different one to what we've seen, and detonated.

>> No.42443085

We haven't been on the island long enough to know what this is, but we already know this is probably fucking terrible.


We can't dive into the ravine because anomaly. We search for what cover we can find.

The beasties have begun to retreat, plainly with the same plan.

We search about, well really the Wizard picks a direction and starts running, we follow as best we can.

He stops dead occasionally and we skirt more weirdness. Areas where gravity isn't right and the ball-bearing shoots into the sky, others where the ground bleeds, a particularly interesting area which appears to be a vertical pond, before we hit on a small swine-herds cottage (or at least that's what we assume it is) the thing is still standing so that's something.

We dive inside and prepare to wait out the storm.

>Angus: I hope Mary is ok...

>> No.42443091

I kinda figured that, but the thought of sending something flying with the swing of a hammer and then have the impact damage happen while it's still in mid air is a funny mental picture.

>> No.42443141

Ah, apologies anon, I misunderstood you.

The thunder grows in frequency, lightning strikes across the landscape, smashing trees and sparking off anomalies. We hunker down, powerless in the face of the storm.

>> No.42443537

Right anons, going to dissapear for an hour or so, then back to post some more before bed.

>> No.42443816
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Alright then.


>> No.42444356

Sorry anons, I think I'm going to have to pass out, it's been a hell of a week. If anon is still enjoying, we will continue tomorrow late afternoon?

>> No.42444753
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I'll try to keep the thread up then.

>> No.42446397
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>> No.42450352
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I only have so many more of these to bump the thread with.

>> No.42451620
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Time to do the thing where I hope the thread hasn't dropped off page 10 by the time I wake up.

>> No.42453536

Your watch has ended, and mine starts.

>> No.42454929
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Don't know if that's a gun or a small artillery piece...

>> No.42456290
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>> No.42457061

bit of both anon.

still here, woo

Ok anons, back, having some dinner then posting before I go out and while on way out. Give me about fifteen minutes to place various types of meat between slices of bread and also have a shower.

>> No.42457450

Mmm food.

As the storm rises there is nothing we can do but try to wait it out. Something that certainly isn't rain batters down on the ground outside. It's more like hail, it rattles off the roof. Hundred and thousands of...seeds? Thats what they look like anyway.

They sit innocously on the ground as rain falls. Flashes of lighting come faster and faster, all coming from the south. Rising to a climax. It feels like sitting in the middle of an artillery barrage. Thunder makes communication impossible.

>> No.42457549

If Mary isn't dead already, he's probably some kind of Swamp Thing by now.

>> No.42457654

Thunder. Lightning. Thunder. Lightning.
The wizard has done his best to seal us in here. We hunker into what has become a bombshelter.
It's like the world is spinning. The storm is a physical thing. We dig deeper into the earth as a shockwave of force blasts northwards toward us.

When we are able to get our heads about us again and look out, everything is changed.

The earth has been blasted clean, nothing biological stands above six inches tall until at least the mountainous peak of the Isle.

On the ground fresh seeds sit. As a multicoloured rain hit them they germinate quickly, where before the storm there were ferns and small trees, now there are redwoods and cycads. We can even see the remains of beasties, at least everything below the ankle anyway, slowly growing into new forms. Instead of tentacles and velociraptors these are furry, low slung, vicious looking lobster things.

It's like the entire island has just been reset.

As we step outside, the new plant growth (already swelling into a forest) and still with those recognizably oddly coloured sap plants (above) which are starting to flower.

We hide within the cottage. The Navvie elects to venture outward. As he does, the plants belch a visible cloud of pollen. He gets a good lungful of it and falls coughing to the ground.

The rest of us elect to make crude gasmasks as last time and follow him to try and help.

He is up on his feet before we reach him. Lumbering like a sleepwalker southward.

His eyes are glassy and blank. We can't stop without hurting him and instead do our best to follow and make sure he doesn't fall into any anomalies.

As we pass a beastie slowly being on the one side frozen and on the other slowly peeled by gravitational forces, we are very thankful for the wizard.

>> No.42457704

Our "gasmasks" aren't perfect and we can all feel our perceptions altered slightly. I for one conduct an inner monologue with dwarvish saint Geoffrey Chaucer, Angus seems...different somehow, he lovingly caresses the trees and calls out to the beasties that he "will be gentle with them!" The wizard makes himself a little orrery of cannonballs and has great fun with them. The bard...somehow...is totally fucking fine.

>> No.42457806


We navigate slowly, moving like drunks, giggling as we blast the odd inquisitive beastie.

The DM insists that if we want to communicate with anyone but him we must speak backwards to replicate the difficulty of communication under the fug.

"Reeb a em evig" etceterea.

It's a very odd little dynamic, it makes coordination impossible. We lurch along between two anomalies, one a simple whirlwhind, the other appearing to be slightly out of time as its autumn in there, here it's midsummer.

>> No.42457826

Mary was already somewhat odd, but don't worry, he comes back...

>> No.42457918

As the still growing redwoods tower over us, the bard attempts to talk sense into us. We can see and hear him, but somehow his words and actions seem to just flow over us without sticking, we can definitely hear him, but we just don't process his words at all. If I'm not describing this well, think "pyrovision."
It becomes a struggle to keep each other alive as the DM will warn someone that a hazard will occur to another member of the party, but the one at risk as no idea.

For example
Pots sugna!
Yhw? (You try pronouncing it)
And Angus has no idea he's a step away from a fifteen foot drop.

>> No.42457979

Anyway this fun continues as the Navvie seemingly unerringly follows a safe path, and we stumble around him. Eventually, we come to the lip of a crater, and at the centre of that, sits what can only be the institute. A converted monastery which seems perfectly fine despite the size of the crater in which it sits. The earth has been baked by the blowout and is barren. A small cloud of magical energy boils above the building. In there is the source of whatever the fuck this is about and given what happened to the Navvie, the possible location of the locals.

>> No.42458180

>the plants belch a visible cloud of pollen
Oh, and next there will be a tribe of orange people worshiping a giant angry rock face that demands they feed it bombs?

>> No.42458317

Not quite where we go with this one but..

>Lion - bard
>Tin man - wizard
>scare crow - Angus
>Dorothy - aldous
>Toto - Navvie

Cannot unsee.

>> No.42458393

Unless I went to the wrong place with that reference, anyway.

We are either adjusting to the pollen or just starting to sober up, but by the time we knock with a boot on the front door and exclaim
"By England and St George we are here to fuck you up...You"

Everyone except the Navvie seems to be mostly back to normal. Within however the place seems almost entirely like a research institute should. The reception area seems like any other reception and aside from the little piles of salt everywhere, untouched.

Angus cannot resist putting his finger in one and saying "yup that is salt" after tasting it.

Last couple of posts before taxi by the way.

>> No.42458419

We decide obviously, that we must go deeper. The corridors are empty, though the piles of salt in one direction seem to have been disturbed as though trodden by oh so many feet.

We follow that path (and the Navvie) the wizard can definitely sense magic ahead.

>> No.42458453

We start to hear moaning. Which in our experience is never good. Except it sounds happy. Which is probably doubly bad. There's also something that can be heard moving behind us. A slow dragging noise. We are going to have great trouble wrestling the Navvie to a halt however.

>> No.42458477

Taxi time anons. I told you this one was a bit silly but I hope it's fun. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon then we can finish off this last arc.

>> No.42458499

While I'm away, can anyone guess what the piles of salt are?

>> No.42458788

Well, I was referencing an episode of Star Trek.

Then again, they did that pollen thing at least twice in original trek.

>> No.42458827

This is Aperture Science, or one of its many alternate dimension counterparts, isn't it?

>> No.42459281


>> No.42461157
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>> No.42462920
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Only so many more of these left.

>> No.42463673

You win some variety of points anon

>> No.42465556
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Oh shit, page 10 sneaked up on me.

>> No.42467293
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>> No.42470570
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And that's the last of the Bloom County 2015 strips I have.

Now to go to bed and hopefully someone else will keep the thread from dropping off.

>> No.42473810
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That'll be me then

>> No.42475198

Hello anons. Postan from about eight tonight if that suits?

>> No.42475278

That's fine with me.

Let's see if you'll be able to bridge the gap today.

>> No.42476610

Bumping it.

>> No.42477895

Hallo anons. Let the posting commence!

>> No.42477959

We can't slow down the Navvie without great trouble. He's by far the strongest of us, and though not in full control of his actions or very coordinated right now, no one really fancies trying to grapple with him.

The wizard (as wizards sometimes are) is able to be useful, weighing him down with bands of iron around his legs, then Angus takes the simple expedient of tripping him.

This slows him down enough that we can wait for whatever is behind us to catch up. We use doorways (leading off the corridor and into what are clearly offices) as cover as we prepare ourselves to meet whatever is behind us.

>> No.42478031

What's behind us isn't immediately recognizable as...anything really...it's mansized but in the gloom of the building and our one light (no other illumination in here) its clearly human sized.

We wait for it to get closer....and oh...hello Mary.

At least we think it's Mary.

Burnt, blackened and blasted, he wheezes for breath, he limps, dragging a foot behind him, using his gun as a walking stick. It seems he decided to follow us and didn't have as good a shelter in the blowout as we did.

>> No.42478075

I'm still expecting him to turn into some kind of plant man.

>> No.42478172

The mongoose however is perfectly fine. It asks us for help. It seems Mary has had a dose of the pollen too but he doesn't react to it like everyone else, instead going slightly crazy (more becoming even more unhinged than when he started out).

Gef shouts (squeaks?) at us to stay back, it's too late however. Mary has definitely seen us, and that punt gun is coming up.

We have only a couple seconds to respond and that huge gun will turn the lot of to paste if he fires it.

He slurs something about demons and voices in his head.

The DM has us all say what we're going to do at the same time and then roll to see who does what first.

I try to speak to him, Angus prepares to immolate him, the wizard attempts to pull the gun up and move his aim to the ceiling, the bard dives for cover.

The chain of events goes as follows

"Mary it's us!"
>Mary struggles with his gun
>The Bard hides under a table

>> No.42478235

Now the Mary going crazy because pollen thing explains how he seems to be the only islander that was vaguely normal. Regrettably, Angus has just torched him and his pet.

The flaming corpse falls to the ground. Angus spits.
>You're welcome.

The mongoose seems to have been torched too. We don't feel great about ourselves but...there wasn't much else to be done (DM, you're a cunt). The Navvie is still a few feet away and still not entirely with it. He's started to cough however, bringing up mucous and spores, if anything it seems like he might be shaking it off slowly.

>> No.42478307

From up ahead, we can still hear moaning and the occasional scream. Whatever has happened to everyone else, it is certainly not good.

We decide that using the Navvie as a homing pigeon is fruitless and we need some way to get him back on his feet and helping.

The bard is the most medically minded and assisted by the wizard they decide on a course of action.

>Whisky. Lots of whisky.

They figure if the Navvie's mind is under the influence of sometihng (i.e. the pollen) then what's needed is something to scramble it. So if they get him good and drunk, it might "jam the signal" as it were.

>> No.42478366

With the still smouldering corpse of Mary behind us, the two of them persuade Angus to part with some of his stash and pour Tomatin 12 into the Navvie without a great deal of trouble.

To my surprise (not theirs) it works, as the Navvie goes from waving his arms ineffectually and generally slack-jawed to purposeful movements, reaching for the bottle and finishing the rest. By the time he's finished, he's smiling.

>Hi guys

He tosses the empty bottle behind him. It should smash. It doesn't smash...

>> No.42478411

Instead it goes "twomp" (as though hitting something soft) and can be heard rolling down the hall. This is out of the ordinary enough that we stop walking. The long low growl from behind us is definitely not good.

>> No.42478458

We turn in enough time to see the now standing Mary's ribcage split open as flesh melds and flows, mutating, running like water, reforming.

>Oh fuck.

Whatever it's doing we decide to go full Thing on it and let Angus torch it again. This time he keeps playing fire until there's nothing but a smear left. The flames are starting to lick over furniture and walls. It seems like we've also set the building alight - oops.

>> No.42478522

Well we're here for a reason, there's no point trying to put the flames out and it's probably for the best that the place burns down (if we had a motto it'd be "leave nothing standing")

With whatever happened to Mary in our minds, we head onwards into what looks like laboratories or at least places where science got done. We can't be far now from whatever happened here.

No one knows a great deal about the institute beyond it being somewhere where something bad happened, and that no one really wanted to investigate after whatever accident occurred.

>> No.42479007

Know your enemy is intel 101.

But since this setting has pretty much nothing but enemies, I guess it's almost understandable that no one knows everything.

>> No.42479080

We pick up some clues as we proceed. The facility is fairly big and we are going down flights of stairs and deeper into the facility. We expect violence or threats around every corner, but there's nothing (yet) just that sound, that constant low sound of distress and ecstasy.

We are able to piece together clues as we go, finding notes or simply using logic, there was an experiment here, a grand, grand experiment. Sanctioned by Queenie's Dad, it was a magical investigation into the very building blocks of all life and all other things. The theory so it seemed, was that if man was composed of small tiny things (cells), then perhaps those smaller things were themselves composed of smaller things, and then those smaller things...could themselves be separated into smaller things. Eventually, through this splitting of components, the signature of god or the maker of our world must, logically, be found.

Therefore, the goal was to

>Split the atom.

>> No.42479134

>You were building bombs?
No, this was (for Britbongsteros) pure science, an investigation into the world itself and how man came to be.

>What the fuck went wrong?
We have no idea.

>Why didn't anyone come to look?
Combination of bad-juju, weirdness, and the feeling that maybe, just maybe, God doesn't want us looking too closely.

>What was going to happen next if it worked?
Man would eventually find the very building blocks of life, and could, in theory, make it himself.

>> No.42479159

>Making life
This was actually a theme of Britbongsteros itself which the more perceptive anons may have noticed throughout the setting. Everyone is up to it somehow. (Or blowing it up).

>> No.42479191

I get the feeling the Germans did something similar and that's where the wunderwaffe came from must later in this story.

Would've been interesting if your DM had tried to link to the two, but he probably thought it be lost on everyone.

>> No.42479612

We proceed onward and downward. The facility seems to spiral around one central chamber, which we can't seem to find a way into yet but it's the source of the sound. We haven't seen or felt an anomaly in a while but the Wizard thinks (as though it weren't obvious) that the source of the weirdness is in there.

Eventually after a couple of logic puzzles (one using displacement and the other an interesting attempt to have us use common sense that resulted in the Navvie simply smashing the Gordian knot with his hammer) we come to the doors of the chamber. We get down to what must be the lowest level. There are still piles of salt but there aren't any monsters or anything. We find a large pair of blast doors that just have to be the centre of the facility.

We prepare ourselves mentally and physically and boot them in.

>> No.42479816

Of course, kicking in blastdoors doesn't work very well. Aside from hurting Angus's foot, so we open them instead.

We know from the signs of the passage of people through the facility that we should be expecting something bad. We are not quite ready for what we come across though.

Naked bodies of the couple thousand islanders are piled together below what looks more like an altar than a device of science. There's something on top the altar that looks like a reactor or...something. There are the friend remains of a skeleton clutching a lever. We decide the only thing to be done here is smash the thing and bug out, if that's what's creating the blowouts, then it's what needs done. It's only as we get closer to the islanders do we realise that they are fused together, a single mass of humanity, moulded and warped, and they're still very much alive.

>> No.42480174

Smashing the machine is easy enough, giving it a whack with his hammer sees the thing break down into component pieces. So that was easy... Too easy.

The moaning, shifting mass of bodies that we just clambered over starts to flow, to alter, to tremble, component parts make for us...

[I will be back shortly anons]

>> No.42480235

Al those people stuck together and moving like that sounds like something I've seen before... somewhere.

I just can't place it.

>> No.42481972

My internet is being really shitty right now.

It need to get over itself so I can see this thread through.

>> No.42483642

You and me both anon. At least I seem to be back online now.

>> No.42483841

Hmm you have me thinking now. I want to say Dead Space.

We are in the centre of the room surrounded by a slowly shifting (but getting faster) sea of bodies. What we thought was the wreckage of the machine sparks and sputters. Something that looks like a van Der graaf generator flashes into life. The apparatus seems...angry.

The facility rumbles and shakes. We seem to have woken something.

We decide the most important thing here is
>leg it.

The Navvie drops a few lit sticks of dynamite and Angus burns us a path to the door. The bodies are slowly mutating. By the time we are out of the room we can see individual critters with partially human attributes lumbering after us. They also have a mix of wicked looking bone scythes or claws, exposed suppurating muscle glistening wetly. The human parts chant nonsense words and phrases. The faces seem horrified, as the DM puts it, as if they are aware of their condition.

We don't have enough explosives to detonate the facility but fuck it, time to go. We can get out alive then worry about the rest.

>> No.42483900

It's impossible to describe in detail the confused violence of our journey upwards. It took long enough to get down there but now as we leave the place, pursued by the creatures (DM called them villagers which somehow felt worse) they are faster than us and explode from vents or simply chase us, we do our best to mow them down but we have to fight for every desperate step. The wizard thinks there's another blowout coming soon and if we aren't out of here and in cover by then we are extremely dead.

>> No.42483903

The Man Island Meltdown is what this has turned out to be.

>> No.42484019

The villagers howl or scream inarticulately, managing a few words and phrases, some cry or whimper. Terrified seemingly of what they have become.

We want very much to run as fast as we can but instead it's a slow, steady pace, we have to be methodical as villagers leap, crawl, slither and slop towards us.

In the darkness they loom, slashing and biting. We will be joining them soon. Thunder can be heard as another blowout becomes a certainty.

It seems the researchers here certainly made life, but oh wow did it go wrong. If the piles of salt are anything to go by then they weren't around to know it.

>> No.42484172

Sometimes, not knowing is worse than knowing. We don't know exactly what or why these things exist. The machine seems to have been created to split and transform life on a grand scale. Whether what we face is what was intended we just don't know, and as I frantically thumb shells into my shotgun, I don't care.

We have been lucky so far but as the Navvie batters down one assailant, another gets good slash into the muscle of his shoulder. The bard is grabbed from behind moments later. Nearly eviscerated before the wizard can drive a stake through the villager. The villager herself gibbering deliriously about mending nets and why the hens have stopped laying.

From the rantings of the villagers more of what happened can be pieced together. A big storm followed by animals doing strange things and people walking away (pollen) some villagers scream or shout things like "Stop walking father please! Come back!" Or "Edith please...don't go...why won't you wake up?"

>> No.42484282

The building is still definitely on fire (Angus's further actions haven't helped) and as we get back to ground level the place is full of flame and smoke. Outside lightning flashes, that blowout is going to be soon. Very soon. The villagers are harder to spot in the choking smoke and the fire slows us further as we have to rely on the Navvie making new doorways for us to get around it. We finally come to an exterior door. It's already open. A small thing, but at the door sit two child sized knapsacks. It might be making a leap of deduction but it seems whoever those belonged to were the first people to enter here and started this chain of events rolling by accident somehow. That small skeleton holding the lever would on the machine would have been about the right size...

>> No.42484438

We get outside, still pursued and now having to deal with beasties too. The redwoods and cycads will be gone soon but they provide plenty of cover to lurking packs of them. We make for the coast, wizard in front as now we have beasties, anomalies and villagers to contend with. In the distance we can hear a ships horn, something must have seen the smoke. The thunder and lightning is becoming more intense, we are not going to make it to the coast before the blowout. We need shelter. The wizard spots a small dip in the ground. It's not much but it's enough for him to make a sort of Anderson shelter with, and for us it's going to be our Alamo as if we stop all kinds of mutant hell is going to catch up to us. In the rain and lit by sheet lightning we look at each other. This is going to be a hell of a fight.

>Bard has the biggest shiteating grin.
"This is jolly good fun isn't it!"
...shut up bard.

>> No.42484500

Dang meddling kids.
Always bringing about localized mini-apocalypses.

>> No.42484634

We dig in as the wizard slowly and carefully constructs a shelter. Big fat drops of green rain splash down around us. The woods are alive with mutated creatures and they howl, as though knowing the hunt is at a climax.

The report of my shotgun is joined by that of the wizard riveting boilerplate together. The shelter slowly takes shape around us as villagers rush us.

It all feels very zulu.

Slowly the world begins to shrink, as plate after plate are joined around us, finally with creatures battering at the structure from all sides, there is just one window sized gap through which they all try to boil at once. I rapid fire into it as the rest of the party try to help the wizard push the last plate into place.

When it's secure, we lie panting in the darkness. Listening to the tattoo of creatures beating on the shelter. The iron deforming under the blows almost faster than the wizard can fix it.

The noise is incredible but eventually it is subsumed into the rumbling howl of the blowout.

>> No.42484868

Later with our fresh "gasmasks" firmly in place we emerge from our cocoon into a new world. Strange tropical looking palms and beautiful black roses cover the island. The beasties are much bigger now, rhino sized centi-octopus-pedes. They take some killing but we manage to make it to shore. There is the oh so beautiful sight of a battleship. HMS Rodney. We manage to signal it and shortly afterwards, we convince the captain to empty the entire magazine on the smoke of the institute. We don't know if this is enough to put the machine out of action, or if we have fixed anything but seriously, fuck the Isle of Man.

Later, Queenie is more understanding of the lack of kippers than expected but having discovered Peterhead Smokies, she's actually not terribly bothered by the plight of the Isle of Man.

We on the other hand are told to get on and do some work. Getting those rifles is what we should be doing. The necromancers have been on the move again and are up to something new in the villages and towns around Newcastle. Plenty of alchemists have been seen with them. It would be even better if we could capture one and learn something about the metallurgy of the guns rather than just grab a sample to reverse engineer.

The privy council are however persuaded to part with a motor vehicle to assist, and thus in the jalopy 2 we head northwards.

>> No.42484891

And...actually...that's it. My god anons.

>> No.42484981

Just can't trust the little bastards.

>> No.42485056

Hell of a ride

>> No.42485199

It took just about six months to get here but here we are. Thank you very much anons for letting me share it with you. I for one have been very pleased to get some original content up on /tg/

>> No.42485312

Well damn, let's see if there is ANYTHING else to say on it while we're all still here.

I know how you are, we get to what we think is the end and then there's still more to tell.

So I have to ask you, are you sure this time?

>> No.42485331

Also, my thanks to wiki anon and all the others. I am now pondering what to with rest of this thread, it seems a shame to let it fall off and be replaced by another "excuse me Comissar" thread

>> No.42485372

Ha, it's usually wiki-anon (at least I think its him) that reminds me I have forgotten something but I'm pretty sure this time.

>All done.

>> No.42485526

Yes, I'm that anon and I am reminding you.

I want to be absolutely certain since we've had "the end" 3 or 4 times now and then there was still more.

No regrets and that sort of thing, Aldous.

>> No.42485661

That's us. As far as I can tell anyway.

>> No.42485752

Righto, I don't have anything going on tonight so I'm going to get that wiki page squared away.

>> No.42486188

As someone who came into this tale about 12 threads late, seriously thank you, anon.

Also, thank you. It's a great story, and it was something to look forward to seeing in the catalog.

>> No.42486616
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>> No.42488098

Oh... I'm getting a picture of Envy's big form from FMA in my mind now.

>> No.42488788

OK, with this I've finished updating the wiki page.

Give it a once over at your leisure to see if there's anything you want to fix, re-word, or whatever.

>> No.42490891

It's funny, going back and reading the first story you told again.

I get the feeling it would've been much longer if it had been told later after you got into the swing of this.

>> No.42493306
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I am going to bump this thread before bed because

1. Another new Bloom County strip was made
2. So more anons will see this thread.

>> No.42495951

On that logic anon, I'll bump it too.

I will try to hang around in the thread over the next little while so if anyone has anything they want to ask or I've explained something badly and they want clarification, ask away.

>> No.42497545

I will bump this because I feel like doing so.

>> No.42500577

This was a lot of fun.

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