Welcome to The Lost Island Quest. Last thread our hero, Alan Rodain, contracted a disease from a mummy, had a weird dream about Hell and improved his stealth skills. Now, he prepares to defend Seaside from attack.
http://pastebin.com/W5vqnRBU (Character Sheet)
http://pastebin.com/3LPDLd9u (NPCs)
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=lost+island
The pealing of the bells subside, leaving naught but echoes and ghost sounds lingering in the air. You peer between the trees of the grove out at the city skyline and listen, muscles tense. Pascala perks her ears and listens for danger, piqued by your concern. Kyra begins to slowly pace deep in thought. A mood of uncertain confusion grips you as you ponder what to do.
You listen for the sound of distant combat or the sight of Seaside guardsman frantically moving. For a few indecisive seconds you hesitate, caught between a dozen different actions as ideas flow through your war-conditioned brain.
Kyra angles her face to look back towards you. She starts to speak.
“We should –”
You feel Pascala's animal instincts build into dread in what seems like minutes before you hear the rumbling growl from her throat. Kyra stops her curt advice mid-sentence as she notices. Kyra almost imperceptibly shifts her stance. You focus on your surroundings.
The chittering warnings of an agitated familiar at your side.
The feel of hard wood as you grip the hilt of your saber.
The faint whiff of rotten eggs overpowering the fresh scent of the grove.
They're coming alright.
>Attack where they'll appear
>Run
>>45802751
>>Run
He who fights and runs away gets to run away another day
Writing!
>>45802751
>Run
>>45802751
>Run
>>45802751
>Attack where they'll appear
Our quiver should still have holy water in it.
Not this again. You rush forward and grab Kyra by the wrist, practically wrenching her off her feet as you drag her out of the grove, Pascala galloping beside you. By the time you make it back onto the stony road of the street you hear the war cries, uttered in that inhuman bass tone of the Barbazu. Sounds like maybe four or five of them.
“Can't run. Can hide,” Kyra opines. She has a point. There doesn't seem to be a range limit on their ability to teleport. But seeing as they aren't immediately on top of you right now, maybe they actually have to know where you are to appear before you. Perhaps you could duck down an alley way or –
BOOM!
Your train of thought is interrupted as the ground shakes. Your head snaps up in the direction of the explosive sound. A giant hole has been opened up from what looks like an internal blast on the eastern side of either the 5th, 6th or 7th floor of the Circle. You can't really tell from which floor, seeing as all three are exposed to open air. You spot twinkling arcs of lightning and other magical bursts from what you assume is a series of close quarters conflicts on every level visible to you.
Shit. Eve, Ed, Quissonce. . . . Rowe. They're all most likely in the thick of whatever is happening there right this second.
Before you have time to recover you spot a contingent of guardsmen running at full speed, armed and armored. They're heading in the exact opposite direction, obviously preoccupied with some other issue. They had to have noticed that explosion.
You begin to hear the sounds of gunshots and distant yells. Seaside is most assuredly under attack.
Kyra tugs quickly on your sleeve to capture your focus once more.
“We have problems of our own.”
Everybody is having problems today.
>Follow the guardsmen, see if they're more informed about the situation
>Go for the Circle, save your friends and lover
>Prepare an ambush for your devil ambushers
>Something else? (write-in)
>>45803533
>Prepare an ambush for your devil ambushers
>>45803533
>Other
Go to the Circle, in order to get Eve and the party's Super Holy Soaker 9000 in order to ambush the Devils.
Well it's a tie right now, anybody wanna chime in with a tie-breaker vote?
Writing!
“Eve still has the decanter?” you ask. Kyra puts her finger to her chin in thought.
“Think so,” she guesses.
“Well then the Circle's problems are our problems. If we're going up against a squad of Barbazu I want that weapon and spellcaster back-up would be nice too.”
Kyra nods and then the two of you rush off towards the Circle. You're probably faster than her, but she takes you through some side streets and alleys that shortcut your way across Seaside. What you would consider a ten minute full sprint, even with your enhanced speed and Expeditious Retreat, is accomplished in roughly the same amount of time with the added bonus of stealth. You keep your eyes, ears and nose on the ready for signs of devilish activity, but it seems you've lost your pursuers. Hopefully they're still looking for you and haven't disappeared to ruin someone else's day.
You spot the rushed movement of soldiers and civilians alike through the city streets, heading in multiple directions. Fires have begun to sprout intermittently throughout Seaside, marked by large plumes of smoke. You haven't spotted an enemy combatant yet, but something's going on. It's hard to tell if whoever is assaulting the city has actually made it through the walls. It feels odd.
You make it to the marble staircase and spot that bookish individual with the thick reading glasses who was watching the door on the day of your very first visit to the Circle. He is staring intently at the door to the 1st floor with his hands on his hips, tapping his foot in a peeved manner.
You ascend and he turns around at the sound of your footsteps. He makes an 'ah' sound as he recognizes your face. He gestures to the door with his thumb.
“It appears to have been magically locked,” he explains. “Simple spell, but I unfortunately lack a proper countermeasure.”
Kyra approaches the door and spots the key in the lock. She jostles it a bit to make sure it's lodged in there. You cast a quick Detect Magic and detect an abjuration aura coated to the door.
“What happened?” you ask the wizard.
He shrugs. “I don't know. I heard an explosion and then when I checked the door I discovered someone had magically locked it. I've been hearing noises ever since. I've knocked and yelled but obviously people are too busy to answer right now.”
Kyra inspects the lock. “May be able to pry the lock off. Take some time, but doable. Or . . .” Kyra takes off her pack and opens the flap to show you a grappling hook tied to a silk rope. “We hope they overlooked the windows.”
>Let's go through the door
>Enter through a random window on the 3rd floor
>Enter through a window on the 4th floor (Your room, Eve's room, Rowe's room, Random room)
>Something else? (write-in)
>>45804829
>>Enter through a random window on the 3rd floor
Alright Wrenloft, it's you and me buddy!
Writing!
>>45804829
>Enter through a window on the 4th floor
Our room
“Alright, let's do it.”
“What about me?” the bespectacled wizard asks you. “I refuse to traipse around like a burglar.”
You rolls your eyes. Kyra begins walking around the side of the tower, looking for an optimal entry point. “Stay here and watch the door. Keep your head down and don't die.” you tell the man. If he was competent at all a simple locked door wouldn't have rendered him useless.
You find a busted out window on the 3rd floor with nice sharp jagged edges to cut yourself on if you aren't careful. You attach the grappling hook to an arrow and arc it gracefully into the bedroom the window looks into. Kyra climbs up first and then beckons you up. You're a skilled enough climber and the maneuver is quite simple.
You gingerly make your way over the jagged shards, stepping into the room and into the brain matter of the caster who must have lived in this room. His roommate, also deceased, is lying in bed. Blood pools around his neck where his throat has been pierced by dagger wounds. Their door is busted off its hinges.
You hear the screams of panicked casters from the left accompanied by the familiar whoosh of magic missiles and scorching rays.
Kyra peeks her head out and then gestures for you to come forward with two fingers. You crane your neck around the door frame and spot . . . that horrific monstrosity. Magical blasts glance off its skin as it meanders down the hallway.
It picks up a robed man who fell in its path, paralyzed with fear. It crushes his head like a ripe grape. The three casters watching in horror as their friend perishes run away in abject terror.
You think you recognize the man who died. He played the flute quite loudly and quite badly too often for your liking. You found him annoying. And now he's dead.
The lurching fleshy mass begins to pursue the three targets who escaped further down the hall.
>Ignore the monster, go to the fourth floor
>Sneak attack it from behind
>Something else? (write-in)
>>45805614
>>Sneak attack it from behind
>>45805614
>Ignore the monster, go to the fourth floor
>>45805614
>Sneak attack it from behind
Writing!
Roll me 3d100, best of 3.First is for attack, with a bonus of 23.
Second is for stealth, with a bonus of 35
Third is for defense, with a bonus of 13
Also,
>Use saber
>Use shortbow
>Use fists
Rolled 66, 81, 13 = 160 (3d100)
>>45805883
>Use fists
cast fist.
>>45805883
by the way, will you be running over the weekend as well?
>>45805959Just today for this weekend.
Soon I get a break from some of the more boring shit in my life and will have time to run much more frequently.
Rolled 35, 46, 20 = 101 (3d100)
>>45805883
fisticuffs
Rolled 39, 65, 3 = 107 (3d100)
>>45805883
>Use saber
You need to kill this thing. It appears to be resistant if not entirely immune to spells and thus everyone in this building is just a helpless scholar before its wrath. Someone must have placed this thing here to murder all the casters in town.
You stalk your way down the hallway towards its towering figure. God, it's huge. Bulky and large. Eight feet tall and it must weigh hundreds of pounds. Strong too and those claws and teeth look nasty if they catch you. Thankfully it doesn't seem to be the most perceptive of creatures as an upside. You and Kyra are in its literal shadow without it noticing you.
A closer gaze reveals to you the artificial nature of the thing. It appears to be an amalgamation of different body parts judging by the radically different skin tones that make up the creature. They appear to be sewn together with wires and stapled in place. Dried blood is still crusty around the stitches. The composite form of this constructed nightmare smells rank.
You lock eyes with Kyra and she raises three fingers to help coordinate your attack.
Then she holds up two fingers.
Then she holds up a single finger.
And then she pumps her fist.
You jump forward and unleash a flurry of strikes into the creature's back. The punches sink into the monster's flesh, leaving bruises and ripped skin. Its mind seems to barely register you have attacked it as it stops dead in its tracks with no real reflexes to speak of. Before it can turn around Kyra runs it through with her katana. You attack again as it stomps its feet to swivel towards you.
You strike it maybe a dozen times before its facing you, both claws menacing. It swings to backhand you and you jump away. Unfortunately you misjudge how fast it can move its appendages and the range of the attack. The hard knucles bulging beneath the skin of its massive, fleshy claws hit you in the side. The wind is knocked out of your lungs as your feet leave the carpeted floor. It feels like you've been headbutted by a rhinoceros.
You fly across the hall and slam into the door of a nearby dorm. Your battered body breaks through the light doorway and you collapse in a pile of broken wood. The womanly screams startle you and you quickly search the spartan bedroom for the distressed lady. It turns out to simply be a rather high-pitched halfling hiding under his bed.
You look up from where you've been flung and see Kyra dancing away from the golem as it lumbers after her. You wipe dust and wood chips from your hair and face as you think of what to do next.
>Ask the halfling for some help
>Try to learn from the golem
>Try a new tactic (write-in)
>>45806583
>>Try to learn from the golem
Alright, roll me 1d100 + 44
Rolled 87 + 44 (1d100 + 44)
>>45806776
Writing!If someone else rolls and rolls higher, I'll incorporate it
Rolled 68 (1d100)
>>45806583
Rolled 73 + 44 (1d100 + 44)
>>45806776
Rolled 62 + 44 (1d100 + 44)
>>45806888
You pick yourself up, door chunks dripping off your form. Your forehead feels a bit fuzzy and the excruciating pain in your side informs you that at least one of your ribs is broken. Your arms are also sore and you feel a hurt pulsing from them. You're in a pretty sorry state right now, staggering to the door frame.
This isn't your best moment, but hey, as a friend once thought: Even at your worst you still look pretty fucking cute.
. . .
Paraphrasing that line of thought of course. Alright, time to analyze and integrate. From a surface glance it appears to just be a giant, lumbering mass of stupid, putrid flesh. Not a lot of qualities there that you want to emulate let alone incorporate for the rest of your life. But surface glances are for suckers and fools. As Kyra tosses a throwing dagger into the golem's eye, which seems to have had no effect on its martial prowess whatsoever, you cast a nice, distracting detect magic while you wait for your internal organs to settle down and your arms to stop burning.
Necromancy. Yeah, you figured. Some Enchantment in there. Alright. And . . . transmutation. Centered in those bulging, massively muscled arms. It seems familiar too . . . Ed!
That's right, that spell he'd use to make himself stronger. That's why this thing hits like a fucking truck. It's muscles have been transmuted to ridiculous proportions. Ugh, how did Ed do it?
You quickly try to scan your memories of Ed casting that spell to see if you can settle it into your bones.
You feel like your arms are on fire. God, your arms didn't even get the worst of the beating from being thrown. Yet they hurt like . . . like . . . like they're growing?
. . .
Oh yeah, they're growing. Wow. You flex and see your toned biceps bulge almost obscenely. Holy shit is this what Ed feels like every time he casts this? Is this what it feels like to just be Gabby? This is amazing. You feel like you could box a tiger.
Oh yeah, adrenaline's pumping. Second wind coming to you. Testosterone coursing through you.
Kyra misses a step – nobody's perfect – and the golem manages to grasp her around the hand with one of its massive claws. She screams in pain as you hear the popping of fragile bones. She sinks to her knees.
You bull rush the disgusting piece of shit and manage to land a haymaker right in its guts. Your fist sinks through the flesh and you hear the burst of skin and feel the viscera surround your upper arm. You grab a hold of something and rip your arm free. You drop the heart or lung or whatever the fuck that is that you're holding onto the carpet.
Well you definitely obtained the monster's attention. It let go of Kyra's hand as it stumbled back from your forceful attack. She cradles her ruined fingers as she rises back up to her feet and leans against the wall.
Whatever you pulled out of the construct certainly wasn't too important, seeing as the thing is still coming at you.
Now might be a good time for a plan. Or an exit strategy.
>Run
>Hold your ground
>Use your superior intellect to defeat this foe . . .and gravity>Suplex?
>Something else? (write-in)
>>45807717
>>Use your superior intellect to defeat this foe . . . and gravity
Writing!
>>45807717
>Use your superior intellect to defeat this foe . . . and gravityYou're not alone now
Wrote something. Didn't like it. Rewriting it entirely. Please bear with me.
Even with the muscles and the build up you can't put much of a dent in this thing. At least not without it hitting back harder and stronger and much, much deadlier. There isn't a weapon around strong enough to kill this thing.
. . .
Actually, . . .
You've been hiding under your bed since you heard the screams and the explosions. Donald thought he was being brave rather than stupid, when he ventured out with his staff and his bravado.
Humans! Why do they always throw themselves into situations that will kill them? You're confident you heard him die yourself. You felt a bit sorry for the dumb bastard as he screamed for you to let him in. You told him you were locking the door. He chose to risk his life against your advice, you weren't going to risk yours for his. He's dead and you're not because you're smart.
Of course then that other human had to ruin everything. He had to crash through your door, didn't he? No, what would your life be like if crazy humans weren't doing stupid things. And he just got back up and rushed right outside, as if whatever was out there wasn't simply going to murder him like all the rest! You had the urge to bolt at that point, but maybe whatever is out there won't notice you if you make yourself small.
Someone rushes into your room.
“AHHHHHH!” you bellow at the surprise, startling the figure. It takes you a moment to see through your panic-induced blindness that it's that insane human from earlier. He stops in his tracks and looks at you, grimacing.
“Sorry,” he tells you. Why is he –
OH WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” you involuntarily bellow once more as a massive, bleeding monstrosity ducks through your door frame, stretching and cracking its edges as it tries to fit its massive bulk through the smaller entryway.
Thanks be to random chance that it seems more focused on killing the human than you. The monster follows him. The human backs himself into the wall of your room, trapping himself. This is your chance to flee!
Except your legs are shaking too much and you're too scared to move! The monster swings its massive claw to bisect the poor fool. He miraculously ducks it and the monster ends up destroying a good portion of your wall and window.
You cover your ears with your hands to protect your hearing from the loud noises. You shut your eyes tight, but then realize that would be very bad if the monster turns on you.
You open your eyes to see that the human has managed to dislodge himself from the corner he was trapped in and get on the other side of the monster. He's going to run out the door and leave you to die in this room with this thing!
The monster grabs for him and after ducking the swing he goes and RUNS INTO IT! HE'S INSANE!
He swings his fist and clocks the monster in the chest. It actually recoils from the blow. As it staggers he uses both his open hands to push it as hard as it can and . . .
It disappears. It tumbled through the broken part of your wall and fell. To splat on the ground three stories below.
He did it. He managed to kill it. He looks over the edge and nods his head in approval, pleased with the most likely gory results of his efforts. You aren't going to check, you'll take his word for it.
He turn around and goes to leave your room, walking out as calm as if he was merely getting a drink of water. Before he exits he gets a puzzled look on his face and turns to you as if he was just remembering you exist.
“Sorry again about that,” he tells you.
You faint.
You can't believe that fucking worked. That is the second thing you've killed via gravity at the Circle. You leave the unconscious halfling to his broken room that is entirely your fault is broken.
Kyra had walked her way to a spot where she could view your epic battle with that golem, apparently. As you lock eyes she gives you a thumbs up with her broken hand.
Which looks like a thumbs down with the angle her thumb has been bent at. Ouch. You grasp her hand and begin channeling positive energy. Kyra stops you when she realizes the bones are being healed in the position they're currently in rather than the position they should be in.
The next five minutes are a painful series of bone settings that Kyra endures with a minimum amount of screaming.
“You're doing great,” you offer as comfort.
“Fuck off,” she responds cheerily.
When Kyra's hand is finally fixed in the right way and your own ribs are healed, you find yourself with a choice.
>Ascend to the next floor, find your friends
>Descend to the bottom floor, clear out anything between you and the exit
>>45809160
>Ascend to the next floor, find your friends
>>45809160
>>Ascend to the next floor, find your friends
Writing!
>>45809342
Dropped my trip.
>>45809160
Huh kinda surprised we didn't need a check to shove him from the roof.
You ascend the stairs to the fourth floor. It's a lot less pretty and much less noisy. There are bodies everywhere. Some obviously killed by a monster akin to that golem you slew. Others seem to have been slain by magic. A few have been felled by arrows. You remove one from a corpse to confirm they're Rowe's.
“In-house conflict?” Kyra asks. You look from body to body of people you vaguely recognize. A good six of these corpses were made by Rowe.
“Well, Chant was a bad egg. Blackburn was talking about how there was a chance he wasn't alone,” you explain.
“Traitors,” Kyra states simply. You also manage to find two more of those golems, deceased. One is riddled with the handiwork of your lover and the other seems to have had its head ripped off and smashed into pulp.
You find that your room is currently on fire. You rush into Eve's room, the door into which is wide open. It takes you and Kyra some moments of frantic searching to find the decanter.
Kyra checks the rest of the rooms on the fourth floor while you put out the fires in your dorm. All your clothes are ruined. Your oni mask has melted. Again. You can't even find a trace of that bow you got from Zar'kov or your military uniform. This is going to be a very bad day and you don't feel like it's close to being over.
Kyra returns to you and tells you she couldn't find a trace of Rowe, Ed, Quissonce, Sif or Eve. No corpses either.
“So they're probably alive. Let's check the next floor up then.”
“Stairs are collapsed, filled with debris. Impassable, most likely when the fighting started,” she tells you.
“Then let's climb the wall with your grappling hook.”
“They had a grappling hook?”
“Eve can fly.”
“Eve can carry them?”
“Ed knows feather fall.”
“Would have run into them then.”
“Then where are they?” you ask, a bit infuriated at the probing questions. Kyra shrugs.
“Dunno.”
>Well I don't either
>I have an idea where they are. (Do you?)
>>45810027
>>I have an idea where they are. (Do you?)
Quissonce's mirror plane thing?
>>45810083
worth a shot
Writing!
Maybe they went to the lower floors? And skipped past the creepy rampaging golem? Doubtful.
There is a chance they might have feather falled themselves down to the ground and ran away for some reason, but then you think that book worm type outside would be a little more aware or have noticed them.
They could have been on the upper floors for some reason. Maybe . . . Oh. Of course.
“Quissonce's mirror world. They're there.” Kyra frowns when you say that. Then she shrugs.
The two of you scour the floor. You go from unbroken mirror to unbroken mirror. You check all the ones in the hallway. They all prove to be a bust and you feel disheartened.
But then Kyra gets the idea to check the dorm rooms.
“Some of them rich snooty types like those big vanity mirrors. Could see a coupla these wankers being rich wankers.”
With a bit more hope you start checking the dorms on this floor. Sure enough, you find inside a hastily barricaded room a full length vanity mirror. You approach and reach your hand out to touch it.
Before your fingers make contact with the glass, a familiar gloved hand appears from within the mirror to grasp your own. The small ripples formed by this disturbance are quickly replaced by Rowe's exit from the mirror and entrance into your embrace.
She hugs you tight.
(ALAN!) she thinks loudly into your brain. (I'm surprised you're. . .)
She stops hugging you for a second as she pulls from your embrace to give you a puzzled look. She squeezes your arm, confused. You chuckle as you realize some of that muscle you gained has remained despite the spell having worn off.
(When did this happen?) She asks.
“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago,” you answer honestly. She scoffs, amused again by your special talents. Although there seems to be something else in that smile. An undercurrent expressed solely by the expressiveness of her eyes. “Do you like it?”
(It's sorta hot.) She admits as she reaches up with her other hand to squeeze your other arm. She moves them up to your shoulders and utters a very audible “ooh” with the discoveries she's making.
Eve jumps out of the mirror at this moment to make sure you see her express her disgust as she faux-gags at your shenanigans. Ed exits next holding . . . oh praise be to the Great Will!
You pull him into the tightest hug you can manage.
“Good to see you too Alan. Sorry I couldn't get anything else out,” he apologizes. You pull back from him and take your uniform and the bow from Ed's hands. You pull the heavy mace from your quiver and hand it to Ed, replacing it with the longbow. Ed tests out the weapon with a practice swing before thanking you.
Quissonce exits the mirror right after this exchange, followed by Sif and . . . three other guys who you don't really know.
(Have you encountered a giant, smelly, fleshy monster?) Rowe thinks to you.
“Yes, and we killed it,” you answer.
Rowe sighs out and begins to explain the situation. “Good. Ed's out of magic muscle and I'm out of arrows. We fought those assholes as long as we could manage without it being suicide. How're the rest of the floors?” (I'm taking half your arrows by the way.)
As you fish twenty arrows out of your quiver, Kyra talks. “Third floor pacified. Fourth floor clear. 1st and 2nd unknown. 5th through 7th floor suffered a massive explosion. 8th floor also unknown. Rest of the city is possibly under attack. Alan and I were being pursued by Barbazus, lost them in a grove.”
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu–” Eve is smacked over the head by Quissonce before she can finish her swear.
Quissonce coughs. “We're together. We're armed. We're informed. And we're no longer stuck in a mirror. I believe we're in a much brighter spot than we were mere moments ago. Alan?” she asks.
You look at Quissonce, waiting for the follow up to that question. “What?” you're eventually forced to inquire.
“What do we do next?” You look around at the rest of the expectant faces in your midst.
Right. That uniform you're holding shows them all that you're the closest thing to a military authority these people have right now.
This isn't an adventure.
This isn't an excursion.
This is a war.
And you're the commanding officer.
>End of Thread
I will most likely run this next time this coming Friday. https://twitter.com/TrickQM
>>45810925
see you next week
thanks for running
>>45810925
>wat do
IMO we should clean up the upper floors of the circle first, then the lower floors. That way we free up magic users and everybody can go to the fight in town without another front behind us.
