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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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Hello Anons. Yesterday I was persuaded to tell various tales of our adventures in Britbongsteros.

I have various connecting flights today and will be sat around on the company dollar doing fuck all. Therefore if anon wishes, I shall continue to tell tales.

pic related. What would anon like to hear about first?

Sinking the notbismarck? The Irish Barbarians? The Welsh beastmen? Saving the Queene assassinating the same queene?

I can also chat about the setting if anon has any questions. I'm planning on turning it all into a novel one day so it's all useful to have typed out.
Just to keep things moving. I shall explain that the party of five (+purple penguin) became six for most of these adventures. We we're joined in the "wee fantasy adventures" by my then (and now again) girlfriend (that's another story and /tg/ had a hand in it) who played basically herself.

So the wizard, Angus, the Navvie, Bagpipe bard and I were joined by Cruella (yes I know) of the same species as our Queene, a faerie. Long of limb, beautiful, and fuelled by the blood of our enemies. She had two long knives which she used to maim. She had bonuses the more cruel she was to her prey.

I'm afraid we shouldn't have let her character in but
>muh fetish.


We left the now silent ruin of Edinburgh. We were victorious...weren't we? The necromancers had been broken. Some would remain But the threat in the North was over. For now. it still felt like a loss. A shameful filthy loss. I couldn't meet the eye of the purple Penguin.

We moved on. Sailing the Nautillus from inchgarvie back first to Newcastle (the shell torn industrial country still burning. The locals working for drink to forget the work they must do. Rendering down the undead armies or the remains of them into magical components for the artillery, smelting rusted swords down for bullets. Tearing apart their once great city for total war) There we met cruella with a letter from our Queene.

The Brunnmigi had been spotted off the South coast. We were to sink it.

The Brunnmigi (Google it) was the pride of the Kaisers fleet. A battleship of enormous power, row after row of guns, pure industrial might. Crewed by the Kaisers elite bearmen. It could sink a dozen ships before they even got in range.

We had a fight on our hands.

We had an unexpected surprise however. At Portsmouth we were met by the Thunderchild. A destroyer. Nothing on the Brunnmigi but crewed by the stoutest most valiant of men.
Once again. The bard went to the prow As we set sail. (Don't ask) but we left Portsmouth dock to his rendition of Lynyrd Skynyrds Simple Man (DM again).
We knew the brunnmigi was moored off Jeresy. The Kaiser wanted those islands and was using the ship as a show of force. What better thing to occur then for it to sink in British waters.

We would be dropped off the coast of Jersey, travel overland and sneak aboard.

It all went perfectly. We lowered a boat. Then suddenly the deafening scream of the attack siren aboard the Brunnmigi sounded. She knew the Thunderchild was here. There was no running for the Thubderchild. There was never any question of running.

We rowed ashore as that little ship. Outclassed by twenty times in tonnage alone. She turned. She made straight for the Brunnmigi.

Never a question as shellfire hammered that brave little ship. The aft turret was hit first. Then taken admidships. Fire licked up the funnels. The bridge was next. Still she carried on. Fire from the fore turret rebounded from the flanks of the Brunnmigi.

The Thunderchild was low in the water. None could be left alive but she came on. She rammed the Brunnmigi on the portside.

We didn't think she even scratched the paint. The proud ensign of Her Majesties royal navy was the last thing to slip below the waves as we watched from the shore. (Fuck you DM)
The people of Jersey were honest hobbit types. We were taken in by a farmer loyal to the Queene, but we were not unnoticed. The party was woken by the barndoors being kicked in.

Brunnmann. A party of twenty marines from the Brunmigi. Each huge bear given the form of man. We could stand against them. We could. But it was likely to cost us.

They had hostages. The farmer and his family. So small against their black uniformed bodies.

We couldn't fight. We shouldn't fight.

I laid down my shotgun. It was joined by hammer, flamethrower, knives, and bagpipes. The wizard laid down his backup revolver. No one else saw him wink at me.

The marines chained us. Binding our wrists and ankles with cold iron. No magic could effect those locks.

The wizard was of the iron clan. With complete mastery of steel. He practised no magic. He did however bend metal to his will.

The hobbits were released. Watching us go sadly. The farmer sung Gods Save the Queen until one marine cuffed him.

It was the distraction we needed however The wizard brought up the bayonets of each marine. All twenty lay dead. His own bayonet through his throat. The chains fell away.

The wizard collapses. He would not be able to do that again for some time.
Keep on posting, OP, I'm listening.
Thank you anon.

I'm going to be flying in half an hour but I'll keep going until then. It's a short hop so I can also update on landing.


We have a large pile of corpses. We suddenly realise that had we been taken aboard *then* broken free that might have been smart.

Nonetheless we proceed across Jersey. taking the truck that the marines had used. We come from les Mellies to St Hellier. We wait for nightfall in a derelict warehouse. The new plan is simple. Wait for the wizard to recover then sneak aboard.

At least that was the plan.

Cruella was to take down the sentries the on the gangplank. Then she and the wizard would find the magazine. Meanwhile the rest of us had the easy bit. Raise all hell on the bridge. Kill as many as we could then leave gtfo.

Cruella gutted one bear, licking blood from her knife then decapitated the other from behind.

We were aboard.
We split up and make for the bridge. The bard signals our attack with motorheads ace of spades on the bagpipes again.

He starts to play outside the entrance to the bridge. The bears run straight into Angus and his flamethrower. Those that survive meet the shotgun.

We have taken the bridge. There is no sign of the captain however. We estimate we have about two minutes before they counterattack. We have agreed the bard will play a song when that comes and another when we bug out. It's Steve Earles copperhead road that comes as the bears swarm our defences.
Meanwhile. Cruella and the wizard are in the magazine. Stacking shells. The wizard priming timers. They give us five minutes. Firing a flare as they jump from the rear deck into the sea. None of us on the bridge roll high enough to see it.

Time is ticking down and we don't even know.
Last post for an hour or two Anons.

The bard stops playing eventually. We don't know it but we have maybe two minutes left.

The ship is crewed mostly by bears. Except the captain. The captain is a fucking gryphon with a pickelhaube. In he comes with the rest of the marines.

Plane time. back soon anon
We'll be waiting
like I said short connecting hop.

So. Time is running out. Then it runs out. The bears are all dead. Only us and the bloodied captain still standing. He is an enormous winged gryphon.

The explosions from the magazine rock the ship. We are screwed, shells cook off. The small dent in the hull from the thunderchild now becomes a gaping hole. The ship is taking on water. We are either going to burn or drown.

We look at the captain. He looks at us. We nod. He nods.

Seen from where Cruella and the wizard are (on shore now)

The explosions rock the ship. The smoke and flame obscures so much. The ship lists heavily to one side.

As far as they know. We're dead. The purple penguin no more.

Then the glass of the bridge shatters. A dwarf, an orc, a navvie and a bard are on the back of a howling gryphon.

The bard plays the song we agreed.

It's meatloaf. Bat out of hell.
While we are on the ground I can round off the story.

The Captain should have gone down with his ship. Instead he was given a pardon and allowed to stay in Britain. He later joined our navy.

We returned to London to report our success.

We were a bit surprised when the Queene had us imprisoned on our arrival.

That is where this story ends, and the next begins.

I agree, this is the best storytime there's been for a while.
Well I've landed again so have an hour or two. Is there anything I've mentioned that anon wants to hear more about or shall I just continue from where I left off?
10/10, would manly cry again.
I think just carrying on is best.
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This is back! Also someone else cap this today.
Alright anons. I'll get my bags and a pint. check back in half an hour.

I know no one cares but I've just landed in the home of the techno-wizards.
Hello again anons.

>The Court of the Faerie Queene

Ok so before I launch into this properly there are some things you need to know. If you've ever read or heard of Edmund Spenser's Faerie Queene (it is not as gay as it sounds) you'll be fine. If you haven't, what you need to know is that royalty in Britbongsteros are all faeires. We've mentioned already that this means they're vicious, cruel, capricious, and very childish at times. Now we have a Queene who for reasons of her choice to remain "virgin" and not produce heirs, has pissed off a lot of people. It got worse when she banged a French Elf (because then we'd have French Elves on the throne) and so the other nobles had said French Elf killed.
She then took a demon succubus as a lover. More people were pissed off but at least no French Elves.

Her court is a place where there is great wealthy, silk, gold, pearls, diamonds, and blood. Lots of blood.

We are imprisoned almost as soon as we arrive in London. We aren't told the charges, just surrounded by royal guards (automatons built by Sir Issac Newton the century before) and reluctantly we lower our arms.

We are taken to the cells beneath the Old Bailey. Cruella is removed from the party at this point. We are not told why (Fuck you DM and your notes).

Escape is out of the question. the Mistress we serve is scarier than anything we've faced so far.

Finally, we are (after the Navvie and I beat up several prisoners) we five are lead into court. We still have the Purple Penguin.

It turns out that as our resident Faerie, Cruella is to be our defense counsel.

The charge?

Killing the little girl.

The evidence?

One stuffed purple penguin

The penalty?


Oh shit.
We are lead before the judge. Regrettably because of my actual day job I try not to cringe too much as the DM makes a hash of Criminal Procedure but I'll stick with his version.

The charges are read to us, and the prosecution set out the case against us. We maliciously by our own omission failed to save the hamlet (from the original post). We deviated from our mission. We allowed the Thunderchild to be sunk.

Cruella manages to have our sentences cut to *just* death.

>Fuck you DM

We're a little pissed at this point.

We are to be hung in the morning.

We spend our last night in the cells.

We are woken by torches in the corridor. Hushed footsteps.
It's Cruella, and not just Cruella, but the Queene.

"Hello boys."
"The good news is, you're not going to die. Yet. I've had five criminals "agree" to take your place. People are very amenable when I eat their children I find. Very strange."

She flashes her serrated shark like teeth.

"I have plans for you, and we need my enemies to think you're dead. Do you agree boys? Or of course you could just stay here."

We agree.
>Don't ask
I'm sorry, you can't say something like that and not expect us to ask.
We know what's coming. Or we thought we did. We'd all be thought dead. Then we'd be able to kill some noble or end some plot.

It did not occur to this dwarf that there was a very good reason the Queene was still in power. She was about the scariest thing in the setting.

No, what the Queene needed of us was far worse.

She wanted an excuse to wipe out a noble house.

We were to invent a plot. Then pin it on the other house.

The penguin did not approve of this. He approved even less when we discovered which house.

The third wealthiest, and by far the most philanthropic in the country. Faeries were all fucking horrible, but this house at least weren't that bad...really...it was the difference between being a free range chicken and a battery chicken.

They were a mediating influence on the other houses.

This was not good.
Well the DM imports his taste in music into games, it's actually basically my taste in music too. So as we set sail, you never know what might be getting played on the bagpipes.

I can actually start linking to the songs as I go if you like? Some of them are bretty gud
Our first thing to do was agree enough with this psycho bitch to get out of jail.

Of course she knew exactly what that was about. "I'll be sending Cruella along with you of course, as my observer" (Cruella's player smirks) "and she'll tell me every little thing that happens, and don't even think about coming back without her..."

We agree. We are given our gear back, and ushered out of the city in a covered wagon. We are somewhere on Cruella's estate in Kent when we start to plan.

We need to do the following:

1. Not die.
2. Keep the Queene happy.
3. Not let the Dansons (the nice - relatively) Faeries be not wiped out.
4. Not die.

2 and 3 appear to be mutually exclusive however.
> 3. Not let the Dansons (the nice - relatively) Faeries be not wiped out.

I assume you mean don't let them be wiped out.
just found this thread and I'm glad I did, keep them coming OP this is gold.
The discussion in character took about an hour so I'll summarize.

Cruella: sits in the corner idly ripping the legs off mice and eating them bit by bit. (Fuck Faeries).

Navvie: Save the nice people.

Angus: Lets not die

Wizard: Kill them and then we won't have to die.

Bard: Mostly noodles - Sabbath's Planet Caravan (no I don't know how you play it on the bagpipes either) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSWsLADAYSw

Me: Can we do all of the above? Not die, kill them, but also not kill them?

More thinking occurs. Cruella is feigning disinterest.

What the Queene really wants isn't the Dansons dead. She wants their lands. If they're all dead or traitors then the land and money go to her as the reigning monarch. So really the Queene wants cash.

Can we conceivably get her a large pile of money quickly?

No. Not Danson large.

Could we just get them exiled?

No. Some of their lands are overseas. The Queene will want them too.

Do we have to kill all of them?

(Fuck you DM) Yes. I think we do.
thank you, yes I should have typed this all into a word document. I am instead using a tablet in an airport bar.

For clarity. We want the Dansons to live.
Cruella is beaming like the cat that just got given the deeds to a cream factory.

The bard is playing (the actually quite fitting) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cP1xwJLPWRE [Court of the Crimson King - Saxon version]

then suddenly he stops.

"What if...what if we persuaded the Dansons to, in exchange for their lives, pay the Queene an amount each year, so that in five years, she gets even more than she would have?"

The Bard player occasionally is quite useful.

"But how will they get the money together? They'd need to be making even more money that they have now? All their cash is tied up in land anyway."

Angus: Lets just fucking kill them. (I should add that Angus's full name was Angus, McAngus, of the Clan McAngus, from Anguston)
I've got you again
"So we're stuck then. We kill them, or we get killed?"

"Pretty much"

The purple penguin is not pleased by this.

"How many Dansons are there?"

Cruella pipes up "Three left. An old Dowager, a young maiden, and a knight."

I feel a plan coming on.
Sorry anons back shortly

So what followed from this discussion was a lot of scouting, sneaking, research, it took about a week of time in game.

We established the following:

The Dowager was in rude and excellent health.She also had an excellent right hook. Laying Angus out cold when she found him in her flower beds. She spent all her time running a hospital for sick and injured ex-servicemen.

The maiden assisted in this. The maiden was also in love with one of the Queen's favourites. That could be awkward.

The Knight was eager now that the necromancers of the north were ended as a threat. To crusade into the wilds of North America.
What we did was this.

Angus and Cruella took the dowager. They had her donate her share of the family fortune to the hospital. This made the Queene look bad. Except for one thing. Other nobles started to match the donation. Not wanting to be seen to be ignoring the poor. The Queene then won a massive PR victory in creating the "Thunderchild Memorial Hospital for the Heroes of the Nothern Campaign."
She was immensely pleased with this.

The knight she agreed to fund an expedition for. He would sign over his lands until he came back, and if he did, what he found was hers. The Navvie and the Wizard were able to organise this.

That left me, and the maiden.
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Yeah what's happened to this thread, we need more I've been background lurking for ages
>pic semi-related tell us the stories
I am return. I am very sorry anons. Work had to occur.

>The maiden

So DM wants to give us all little solo missions. You already know how the rest of the party got on. I can give you a little more detail on mine.

We know the maiden loves one of the Queene's favourites. Thing is. We didn't know if he loved her back.

We also didn't know how the Queene would react to one of her favourite boy toys shacking up with some younger woman. Like the original Elizabeth I, we expected it to be pretty badly.

After discussing it, we decided two things had to occur. The favourite (who I'll describe in the next post) had to either fall in love with her, or man the fuck up and do it.

Secondly, we had to get the approval of the Queene.
So. I'm left to my own devices to resolve these. I am not a social character. I do plans. I do leadership well. I shoot things. That's about it.

>The favourite: Baron Harcourt, another Faerie.

The Baron likes two things. Hunting and fucking.

Obviously I can't really do the second (or don't want to) but I can get involved in the first.

I get invited along (with a little help from Cruella) on one of his hunts. It's a hunt for a great English Wildcat - the beast of bodmin moor in fact (google it).

He would obviously view my shotgun as unsporting (and it won't leave much of the beast left), so I am given (by the huntmaster whom Cruella knew) a halbred.

>What the fuck do I do with this.jpg?

There's two things I can do, I can try and watch him kill the thing, and maybe talk to him, or I can kill it, and definitely talk to him, but he might be a bit fucked off.

There can only be one option.

It turns out, that if you load a dwarven shotgun with very large flechettes, it looks a lot like you killed something with a halbred.

So I get the beast alone, (lucky rolls) and delete a large chunk of it with the gatlingshotgun (Bessie by the way). The Baron is actually quite impressed with my hunting skill (as I stand with the halbred, my doomcannon tactically hidden in a bush).
He invites me to dinner in his tent. This is going well I think.

Now a little note on Faerie speech here. It is very very very rude (like stabbed in the face rude) to come out and say something directly.

So there are many consume alcohol tests, I regale the Baron with tales of our adventures (much as we are here) including those of the Stuffed Purple Penguin, and the Baron is a little bit drunk.

I ask him, "My Lord, affairs of the heart are bothersome, but perhaps a man of your wisdom can assist me"

His ego inflates a little.

"I have a good lady friend, [I describe the maiden] and her love for another is under a great shadow."

He knows who I'm talking about. He asks "Who is the man?"

"He is a fine strapping gentleman, of great estate, great munificence, and most of all wisdom."

The baron knows full well who I'm talking about. I also think mostly to prove a point he guts a retainer for spilling a little wine.

The baron is a lot more drunk than I thought. He stands. "Come! Let us ride to the maiden! I shall show her every inch of my love!"

I now have to get this drunk posh fool persuaded that he won't get far with vommitting on her and then trying to put it in her pooper.

"My lord, another drink to celebrate!"


"And to the great wisdom of the Baron!"


"and to the great wealth of the baron such as he would not need a dowry!"


"And to the Queene!"

"The Queene!"

(continue through many consume alcohol tests)

The baron finally passes out.

>the next day

after a cold bath in the nearest stream and a breakfast of raw lamb (for him) bacon sandwich for me, we ride to the maiden. The very hungover baron proposes, and she accepts. The baron is too shy to mention dowrys.

>great success

Now we just need the Queene on side. That shouldn't be hard.

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Now to persuade the Queene that not only is there a good reason the relevant Danson isn't dead, but also that there is a good reason why they should be getting married.


She is fairly pleased with the PR and what happened with the knight (we waited a bit to tell her). So when we approach her as a party, to request that the baron be permitted to take a bride. She is fairly reasonable.

We find her bathing in the blood of virgin maidens. Because...yknow...faeries. (fucking Faeries). She has a small rubber duck.

"Ah brave dwarf, what news bring you?"

"We beg a favour my lady"

She listens.

"Very well, but there is but one thing I want from thee before I acquiese."

Wondering what this insane bitch could possibly want or need.

"Dwarf you wear something upon your belt most unique."

Oh no.

"My pouches Milday? My axe? My..."

"No fool. The purple thing. Give it to me."

"Milady surely we would not sully your court with such a childs toy, it is dirty, bloodspattered, your seamstresses could create such a fine recreation, golden stitching, eyes of..."


(Fuck you DM).
I'm sure everything will be fine, anon.

I retract my earlier statement.
The Navvie looks distinctly thunderous as we hand it over. (it's that or die right there and then).

That closes this episode.

Would Anon like to hear how a stuffed purple penguin brought about regime change?
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fuck man everything went bad fast
Someone plz make another img of this, i need this in my PC for the ages...
already on it don't worry friendo
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We continue. So after retreating back to Harrogate (my Dorf Fortress) we decide that perhaps we really are not happy with how this country is being run.

We fight for a Queene that is...in all fairness, kind of a bitch.

We decide to begin research on taking her down, and most importantly. GET THE PENGUIN BACK.

So while we've discussed Scotland a fair bit. I've brushed over England. So as a reminder. The south is all peasants ruled over by very unpleasant Faeries (one of whom is in the party I might add) the north is half DwarfYorkshire and the other half working class humans (like the Navvie). We have various sundry populations like the halfings of Jersey and mythical bits and bobs here and there.

The Queene has those worryingly big automatons. We also know that the country is still being assaulted by the barbarians of wales and Ireland. We need to take her out and do it without a civil war.

The fact we've just given a huge pile of money to her war chest along with some very positive PR does not help.
Being from Leicester myself this alternate U.K is amazing
I just read everything.

What's the big deal about the Purple Penguin? What does it do?

I missed that bit.
Now, a little on the Royal family. There's the Queene, she hasn't produced much in the way of offspring (see above). There's also not much of her family left. In fact next in line to the throne is her bumbling and not terribly astute (but really quite nice) brother Algernon. After him, there's two half brothers who are both as bad as her.

The reason Algernon is still alive is an early warning system, in case one of the half brothers bumps him off with a view to killing the Queene.

Now if we simply kill the Queene, we might cause those two brothers to kill Algernon, and also put the nation into a state of civil war.

We need to kill Queene and both the half brothers.

OP picture friendo
Now anons I'll have to actually get some sleep soon but I'll keep going for a bit longer.

So, we know we need to kill three of the greatest people in the land, and do it in a way that doesn't make it look like anything more than an accident.

That's gonna be tricky.

We think it'd look less suspicious if we went for the brothers first.

It'd be almost reasonable if they were to try and kill each other, in fact we're a bit surprised they haven't....

>Bard: Hey that's not a bad idea guys...
Your bard has excellent taste.
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Just went and read it.

Oh god. Oh god...
It's only quarter past nine in England...
>The wizard collapses. He would not be able to do that again for some time.
Why? Does his magic harm him too?
pretty sure he was just exhausted
I put it all into one, is this better do you think?
and the first flight I got on today was at 06:30, your point?

Now, we know the brothers never meet, never see each other, they are never in the same place at the same time. They hate one another, so it makes things a little simpler.

The hard part is getting to them.

We take stock of our skills:

Thing is, it's actually not that hard to butcher people if you have a wizard that can control flying chainsaws. The hard part is getting him in range of something he can affect (or summon).

Then we have Angus. It's probably not going to be Angus.

The bard could...



Cruella seems like the obvious choice. However she's linked to the Queene and very recognisable. That leaves me and the Navvie. Our special powers are gun and hueg respectively.

We consider our targets.

One, Balthus, is immensely fat, he loves food, and is always eating. We may have an in there.

The other is Carus, he loves books, painting, and torture. So he rarely leaves his dungeon, unless it's to paint on the battlements.

We go for Carus first.
>and the first flight I got on today was at 06:30, your point?
Fair enough, I was just saying
Heh, don't worry. I'm just tired and grumpy. I play characters that are basically me and thinking back to all this reminds me of thinking like a Dwarf.


We approach the castle of Carus. It's in Bath. A spa town, lovely place. His castle itself is beautiful, well decorated, well appointed, even the dungeons are the nicest this side of the channel.

He's also a sick bastard.

Now we learn (via the bard impressing the locals in the tavern with https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T65rW_SIzg0 [Blue Oyster Cult, Godzilla] )

that Carus has recently been painting sunsets.

Now if we had a snipah we could end this easily.

We don't.

More planning occurs.

Suggestions include:

Poisoned paints, a meteor strike, a cannon, metal plates in his shoes which the wizard takes over, summon Cthulu.

In the end, I bash a guard over the head. The Navvie nicks his uniform, and upends carus over the battlements.

That was easy. Too easy...
>Like the original Elizabeth I, we expected it to be pretty badly.
'merican here, I'm not versed enough in your royality to know the significance. Mine spelling it out?
I did already reference the Faerie Queen but ok. Basically Liz I never took a husband but she hated her favourites getting married. There was some speculation that Dudley (one of her favourites) wives was murdered for the reason, it's most likely baseless but anyway.
urgh I'm tired.

I mean that Dudley's wife might have been murdered.
multiple image is better.
It gives people a break while reading them.
Ah, good to know, thanks.
will keep them seperate then
OK, I'll finish this off for my faithful anons.

Next up is Balthus.

Balthus lives in Knightsbridge. He is, as mentioned, an immense glutton. He is also involved with the British Museum. We decide to off him at one of the dinners. It's public, it's perfect. With a little help from Cruella, we grind up some metal splinters, very small, and add them to his soup.

About desert time (the 18th course) the wizard excites those splinters, one massive case of internal bleeding and unknown cause of death later, all we have left is Queenie.
Queenie we think must be onto us by now. She must know something is up. Both her brothers dying in explainable but mysterious circumstances a few days apart?

She has to know.

The question is, does she know it's us?

We hope not. We request an audience. We have to remove all suspicion from Algernon, so this has to be complicated, messy, and so not his style that it couldn't possibly have been him.
The plan is best kept secret. It makes a better story that way. We are brought into her chambers. As we bow obeisciance before her bathtub (blood again) the bard offers to play her a song. Queenie is delighted.
Hmm. It ate my post. Ok.

The song isThe Godfather Theme - Guns and Roses (Slash guitar solo) Instrumentals: http://youtu.be/7cUAflfhIqw

Queenie loves it. We amuse her as a distraction. The bard plays on. Angus sets parts of himself alight (she finds this wonderful) and the Navvie lifts the tub with her in it as a feat of strength. Meanwhile as the wizard juggles chainsaws, he plants a bomb. Cruella replaces her face cream with acid (and also the detonator) and I snag a small purple object. We leave when she is bored of us.

There is a scream then a bang.
We make for France. We miss the coronation of King Algernon but we also are alive.

Next episode tomorrow if I have time.
Great read.
thanks for the story op. Are you going to use this thread or start a new one?
If it's here (hopefully drawfag might drop in) I'll use it. Otherwise just search catalogue for britbongsteros
Argh live you bastard!
Sorry about the wait friendos I've been doing other stuff, and trying to fit this into two columns. Glad I could cap these threads, hope I don't miss the next one and that the drawfag comes back
This is way too much for one image.
holy shit
It's one thread, and basically one story I think breaking it up would be bad, however obviously if you want to edit it go ahead
Also because of the limitations of ms paint You can't make the resolution bigger length ways so I couldn't just have it as two longer columns, even though I'd find that preferable

I'll come back and draw the rest of the group in the next storytime, provided I'm awake.
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did you get word if the brother blamed your party for the murder?

also why did cruella agree to the assassinations?
>why did cruella agree to the assassinations?

That's something I wanted to know myself. I was surprised she didn't try and kill you all as you discussed your plans right in front of her.
thank you anons. I've missed a bit of the story. I'll come back to that when I get a chance to update properly.

he was actually quite pleased but what happened next is part of the next story so when that starts you'll find out.
Your answer better involve 'dorf cock' as the factor that caused her to switch alliances
The answer is basically yes. her player and I were already dating as mentioned above - and thanks to /tg/ her and I got back together at Christmas. It was kinda taken as read that she switched alliances after the PCs also started banging.
Ha! Fucking called it. I don't want to derail the thread, in like, two or three sentences, what happened with your girl and /tg/?
>and thanks to /tg/ her and I got back together at Christmas.

Wait, what?
Thats a different thread entirely but let's just say /tg/ reminded me why I missed her.
Good enough. On to Britbongsteros, my good man.

Also, seriously, write this shit up with your GM as a systemless sourcebook, a setting book people can adapt to their system of choice. Even just as a short document that outlines the races, the geography and the history.

What system are you gentlemen using anyway?
I'll have to get DM to give you details of the system in full but it was fairly simplistic as a D20 system (I believe it was closest to D&D 3.5 but it's been a whIle now), it'd adapt to just about any system I think.
>a simple D20 system

That's good enough, I was just curious, seems like the popular choice for homebrew campaigns.

>systemless sourcebook

Don't make me inflict a doitfaget.jpg image macro on you, m8. This needs to be a thing.
>>37813079 https://archive.moe/tg/thread/36938245/#36941742
here's the thread if anyone cares. Search for DEldar but seriously lets not derail britbongsteros


it's just when I get time to do it. Like I say I'd like to set a book in the world of britbongsteros
Ok. Updates today are much slower but hopefully anon can ensure the thread lives.

>Britbongsteros visits France

after assainating the Queene we were in a slightly awkward position legally and generally. Admittedly it was unlikely that we had this pinned on us (technically we were still dead and it was a secret audience in her chambers, Algernon was unlikely to give a shit anyway) but we figured we should probably lie low. We had enough in the way of funds to live more than comfortably in Paris for a couple months and it was easy enough to hop on the next boat across the channel.

France as previously mentioned was elves. All elves. And they were French.
So naturally we set up camp in a Parisian whorehouse. Because what else do you do in Paris?

I was safely taken though (and if your girlfriend is like Cruellas Player you don't do anything silly) the rest of the boys quickly acquired favourites among the whores and we passed a very pleasant week drinking, eating, whoring and drinking more.

We didn't do much until people started turning up dead.
as long as they dont come back to life.

business as usual in lè francè~
Elfs that are French..... but that is like elfs^2 or something
dont let it die
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bump bump bump
Even elves had peasants and local virgins had been turning up exsanguinated. This is where we met our one and only 'Murican. He was a vampire hunter and from Nuuw Yaaawk. As mentioned previously those in that region had to eat constantly to sustain their magical metabolism. So they were immensely strong and tough but also immensely fat. he would have a crossbow in one hand and a bag of whole fried chickens in the other.

(Sorry America)

Anyway so he barges into the whorehouse and I do mean into. He leaves a 'murican shaped hole in the wall.

The party fumbles for weapons as he shouts "I need your" munch munch scromnomnom "help!"
The bard launches into Team America's America Fuck Yeah for no particular reason as he explains that he needs our help. He can't identify the problem and people are dying all the time.

Our first priority is to get paid. There is almost unanimous agreement. We consider the poor peasants. Downtrodden by the local aristocracy, French, and now being eaten.

We feel a bit bad. The purple Penguin reminds us of our duties.

Our new friend tosses a bag of money on the table. Resolving the issue.
Now our DM about a month before had asked us all to write down our fears. Not our characters fears. But ours.

If I recall rightly the list was:

Angus: failure.
Cruella: clowns
Navvie: Leeches
me: snakes (because indy! Also fuck telling our cunt of a dm what it was)
wizard: spiders
bard: heights and confined spaces.

The purple penguin doesn't join in because it fears nothing.
So we get a lead. The last victim was seen being dragged into the catacombs of Paris. (Google it. It's a giant mauseoleum of skeletons I'm serious).
So that sounds good....
The catacombs extend for miles and miles of bones, unmapped, untrodden, home to gods knows what.

The 'Murican suggests he takes on entrance, we take another and see what we find.

We tentatively agree.

So we are heading into the dark. Armed as normal with gas lamps as well. We're already lost after about five minutes. The DM is playing a YouTube clip of what I can only describe as "howling cave noises"

>roll for initiative

We do. Nothing happens. Huh?

>a few minutes later, roll again

Nothing happens. This is probably bad.

>roll again

Ah excellent. something drops from the ceiling. It's fast. It slithers, it has loads of teeth, it has a tail, it honks, and it escapes from our fire/shot/bagpipe/knife/hammer/chainsaw attack through a tiny little hole in the wall.

I am having good feels. We start finding drained corpses of children and teens shortly after. Then the Murican has been drained dry. His once huge body now like an empty chip wrapper.
It's about now we started hearing slithering and squelching and honking just out of range of the gaslight. Just out of sight. That fucking clown honk was the worst. Sometimes from above. Sometimes below. DM had the cave noise down low and the clown honk stupid loud. Cruellas player is edging closer to me. Everyone is on edge. Except Angus who is nipping from his hip flask.
So to recap we are lost, it's dark, and surrounded by fuck knows what.
We are not just in caves but caves literally full of skeletons.

>this is going great

Retracing our steps isn't going to work (lost) we can sit here and wait for the fuel to run out on the lanterns, we can push on maybe getting more lost.

we decide to push on. Critters all around us in the dark. Just on the edge of vision
as we enter a larger cavern they rush us from all sides, again the same rush of nightmarish images, fangs, claws, teeth, black segmented bodies, the sound of grinding slithering and honking.

We must kill some, we take damage, cookie cutter like chunks taken from exposed flesh.

Suddenly we remember what the DM did with that list of fears.

Snake-spider-clown-leeches-in confined spaces.

When they vanish all that's left is green ichor on the ground and rapidly decomposing hunks of what might be black leather. It's impossible to tell exactly what these things look like or how we'll get back to the light and whores of elf paris
god damed clifhangers, well at least i have time to study inbetween the parts

I like your DM
At this point we didn't.

We push on. Running low on ammo, the wizard low on mana (basically it recharged a bit per round and each spell/action had a cost + DM fiat). The Navvie is injured, Cruella is (like her player) freaking the fuck out (yes my waifu hates clowns). We start finding eggs. Big ones. The navvy smashes each as we go. We come under attack again.

From up ahead there is an earthshattering honk and the sound of rushing water.
It's the queen. There is light filtering through the ceiling, a grate. The floor is littered with corpses and eggs. She's huge. Thirty feet or more of our worst fears. Half snake, half spider, half leech, and with a bright red nose. (That should be funny. it made it much worse)

We engage. The rotary shotgun chewing into HP. The bard fires into Warren Zevons lawyers guns and money, the navvie dives into a pile of smaller deathleeches, Angus just torches everything, Cruella vanishes.

She reappears atop the thing. She uses knife after knife stab to climb up it. She fumbles. Falls. And the maw comes down.

She's gone.

The penguin begs us to fight on.
pump for the penguin
Now there are certain things fa/tg/uys love. Dice, children, food, and women. Especially ones that play with them.

Cruella and her player had become a group favourite. Having her arbitarily eaten seemed so cruel. a random act of the dice that made those neckbeards sad.

Our efforts redoubled. Bits of deathleechsnakeclownthing flying in all directions.

Then the queen stops, gulps,

>Cruella roll some dice please

The queen's gullet splits open. A slender arm holding a wickedly serrated blade sticks out. The queen falls. Cruella squelched her way our. Her normally elaborately made up self, her hair never out of place, well now she's drenched from head to toe in green slime and looks oh so pleased about it.
>French honking clown Xenomorphs
My sides.
Angus torches the bodies. Cruella does her best to clean slime off herself. The rest of us bind wounds. The bard plays
Don't Come Lookin: http://youtu.be/SEF8aBxvyt8

Meanwhile, the Navvie and I find some stairs. We ascend. A barred door, and a smell, a very familiar smell.

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I know I'm late the when ever I think of the Queene I imagine her like this
Tapping these out between client phone calls so using breaks when I can.


Why should that be familiar? Because France. Duh.

We break down the door and ascend more stairs, eventually we come to a very worried looking priest. He's surrounded by clove after clove of garlic.

>le power of Christ compels you!
He splashes us with holy water, Cruella is glad to use it to get some more gunk off.

"Youre...you're not demons?"

"Unless you tell us what that thing was, we're your worst nightmare padre"
If this was appropriately written into a book, by OP I mean, would /tg/ read it?
The Padre explains he was hoping to excorcise the clownleeches himself (good luck) but we are happy to return with him to the whorehouse (he doesn't seem to mind going in either). Turns out we are somewhere near the river seine when we get back to street level. (The sound of rushing water being the river)

We ask the padre about the leeches.
bump for epic threads
you alive mate?
Still here but no judge in the land will accept me saying "no my Lord these papers were late because storytime." Fear not though anons more to follow.
ech foolish men, all will one day see the importance of story time i hope
If only some judges would apreciate story time, let them take it back to their childhoods. The world might be a better place then.
people need more story time overall, i bet if every world leader had mandatory storytime every week there would be less wars
The leeches (the padre tells us) have been appearing slowly for months. What we just killed was not the only queen. He believes someone is feeding them. Bringing food (I.e. people) to them and somehow corrupting them to grow and mutate. He suspects two people.

The local mysterious Warlock (for obvious reasons) and concerningly the head of the Bishop of the other local faith. (Imagine we are talking to a Catholic and he suspects the local protestant).
and a nother bump
Thank you various anons for bumpan and keeping ball up in air.
So. Naturally expecting DM to have expected us to go for the warlock first, and then expecting that he'd expect us to do that, and expecting that he'd expect us to expect him to expect us doing that. We triple bluffed and went for the warlock.

Navvie and I perform surveillance as labourers near his tower. Cruella and bard go to local taverns for gossip. Angus is on a mini quest to upgrade his flamethrower with the wizard (more on that later).
We meet back later In tavern so as to compare notes.

We have discovered that the Warlock is receiving large shipments of slaves. Especially female and young. Sounds like our target.

We collect Angus and his upgraded flamethrower and go full murderhobo.

The enchanted door locks don't do much to resist dwarven solid shot. A good boot later and we are in the den of the warlock.

Adrenaline pumping. Pipes skirling (Saxons Crusader). We are ready for this. The purple penguin abides.

The Warlock looks up over his book. So does the class of female slaves he is teaching medicine to so he can free them to become midwives as this country has terrible pre and antenatal care.

Sheepishly we retreat.

Fuck you DM

>A dwarf, an orc, a navvie and a bard are on the back of a howling gryphon.
>Meatloaf - Bat out of Hell

fucking yes
And at that very moment the combined facepalm of god, queen and country could be heard all around the world (not author just a randome annon)
Hope you do a better job with reconnaissance for the next suspect.
Ok. Take 2.

The bishop lives in (amazingly enough) the cathedral. Or at least the manse near it. what cathedral? Notre fucking dam of course.

We decide we need to be a bit more tactful this time and actually do some research.
This time,

Cruella and I join the congregation for a service. Angus and Navvie sneak in the back, (yes Angus can be quite sneaky despite being an orc with a flamethrower strapped to him), and the wizard and bard stay outside to see what they can see. We plan to meet back in the street after the service.

The service is bretty gud actually, lots of love your fellow man, do unto others etc, and Cruella and I meet Wizard and Bard back in the street.

We wait for Angus and Navvie. We wait some more (DM has been passing notes).

We see smoke rising from a manhole. That's probably not good...
One wizard crowbar later and we're in the sewers. I realise I have no shotgun (it being a bit less than subtle to carry into a church). Cruella is basically a Dark Eldar Wych wearing clothes so she's fine, as are wizard and bard.

I do have a revolver however, and Wizard lends me his spare one.

The Penguin says lead on!

We pelt through the sewers, moving as quickly as we can without falling in, following the smoke and soon the FWOOSH and hammering.

I did mention that Angus had had something done to his flamethrower right?

What I didn't mention was that he'd had the option of using it as a THERMAL LANCE installed.

So as we round a corner expecting who knows what, we're greeted by the Navvie and Angus back to back, smashing and slicing to bits a pack of clownmurderleech things.

"Looks like we're in the right place then" adds the wizard as we get stuck in.
The leeches don't last long against the full party. Angus fills us in. Turns out they found a grate in the stables and decided to have a look. They've been fighting leeches almost ever since. Seems like we're in the right place.

We decide to head the way most of the leeches came from, heading east and away from Notre Dam, we run into more leeches but just enough to let us know we're probably heading the right way.
We start to hear chanting up ahead. That sure seems good.

Advancing slowly, there's a circle of cultists, they force a brightly glowing green fluid into a woman's mouth, (and I mean a lot of it). They draw symbols across her exposed belly (which is now glowing green too) and suspend her over a pit.

They probably aren't up to anything good so we dispense with hello and go straight Bad Company's Bad Company and do what we do best.

The cultists aren't a match for us, but there sure are a lot of them, the cult leader lets his hood fall back. It's the fucking Padre. The one we saw first. He raises his arms and chants all the louder.

From the pit emerges what is basically the Dune Worm version of the murder leeches we've been fighting. It gulps down the poor sacrifice and most of the scaffold she was suspended from.

I relax my shoulders, drop into a shooters stance, and dammit I'm gonna do it right. I look it straight into what are probably it's eyes and say,

>>And then the entire party was eaten by the worm

>>The End
I should point out that wasn't me (OP). I am in fact on the phone.

Quite funny though
Keeping the thread bumped.
god damit i got a midterm tomorow and there is no way im going to sleep before this ends
You, go to bed.

Everyone else I'll be free in about an hour.
thanks for the good advice but its 20:42 here atm and i got my exam at 13.00 so i might get in on some before sleep
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one for bump for the queen and the fascist regime
>The catacombs extend for miles and miles of bones, unmapped, untrodden, home to gods knows what.

"Stop! Here Begins the Empire of Death"
>empire of death
>not empire of skellys
Greetings Anons.

I return.

Now the death worm? Mega worm? Huegworm? That thing.

It doesn't take kindly to being shot. I'm trying to go for anything that looks like a weakspot. Each round from the revolver a hefty lead dum-dum round, it should be blowing great chunks in it. They are. It's not slowing down.

Cruella goes for the Padre.

Angus runs in, and starts carving holes in it, taking off a leg here, a ravening tentacle thing there,

The Wizard does his thing, sawblades whizz over my head, streaking down its flanks.

The Purple Penguin attempts to out stare it.

The Navvie hefts that glorious hammer, and something weird happens. As the bard plays: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=obhWReCBOdQ [Hammerfall, Hammer of Justice] the Navvie begins to glow.

Not like the sacrifice, not green, not with an earthly light either. No.

Like a flaming union jack.

>this is new
I always imagined her as a sharp toothed Queen Bighead from Tim Burton's Alice in Woderland. CBF finding a pic.
He goes for it. A leap that brings his hammer down on it's forehead. A leap that should kill it. A leap that should shatter the earth and rend space and time asunder.

It keeps right on coming, smacking him aside. With a sickening crunch, he slams into a pillar. Out of the fight.

Spent shells rattle off my hobnails. Followed by two speedloaders.

The bard shifts gear, he might be fucking useless but my god does he know what he's doing when he plays. DM fiat says: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hVcmwQANMk [AC/DC, gone shooting]

I am for the mark of the hammer, just as Angus gets the thermic lance into it, ripping it open further, and I empty both cylinders.

It comes to a halt in front of my boots.

Meanwhile, Cruella is playing connect the dots using knives and the Padre. He's decided he wants to talk.

We decide to introduce him to the Purple Penguin.

>what does Queenie look like?

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The Wizard goes to check on Navvie (he's gonna be fine)

Meanwhile Cruella borrows the purple Penguin.

"This Padre, is the Purple Penguin. Purple Penguin is annoyed you killed all those people, and every time you don't answer the Purple Penguin, the closer you become to being a eunuch understand?"

"You'll nevernyyyyyyaaaaaaaaaargh!"

"I said answer the purple penguin, do you understand?"


"How many of those things were there?"

"I can't teaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh!"

"What do we say to that Mr Penguin? [She speaks in a falsetto pretending to be the penguin] 'bad padre' now you've fed all these people to those things. How many of the big ones are there?"

"No pl...wait wait WAIT! Not again! Three!"

"Good Padre, aren't you pleased Purple Penguin? 'Yes!' Now we've killed two, where is the third?"

"We...we sent it to England, to Guy Fawkes...In time for the coronation"

[Players: Oh come on...]

[IC] "How long do we have!"

"You have no time! It will be oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh! Tomorrow!"

"Thank you Padre." [Stab]
There ends this episode. There was some arguing with the DM at this point who reminded us coronations get delayed all the time (which they did historically). For the sake of a good adventure, we agree.
OP, this is so freaking awesome... 10/10 already, and it isn't even over yet!!
Since you're also answering questions, any idea what happened to England's colonies? India, Australia etc?
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You're welcome anon, like I say it'll be a book one day. It's nice to relive it all.

I'll go on for another hour or so.

>P for Pendetta

We make for Calais as fast as we can. We don't know if it'll be fast enough. We ride through the night. Catch the overnight ferry and are in Dover for dawn. A steam train sees us into London 11:00 am. We have barely an hour until the coronation when we find ourselves heavily armed, probably persona non grata, and in Westminister.

We don't know what Guy Fawkes looks like, but we do know he's beneath the palace of Westminister.
India: Elephant men and four armed hindu martial artists
Australia: Escape from Absolom with magic.
We never really went into this, but we know there was tea, curry, and Kedigeree. The Indian Mutiny happened at some point.

Australia got a throwaway mention as literally the most terrifying place on earth. We kept sending criminals, one in a thousand survived, but those that did became the hardest, craziest men on earth.
thank you Anon for assisting, I think I may namefag at this point to make it clear who is who. Please forgive me for doing so.
I wonder what happened to capbro, but anyway.

So, remember those automatons that Queenie had? Well there's a number of them around Westminster Abbey, so this is gonna be fun.

It's also worth mentioning:
>why leechclownthings in London?
The Padre and his church were pissed that we were crowning another [not]Protestant King. They'd rather we were [not]catholic.

We decide stealth is the best option here. Bard pipes up with one of his actually pretty sharp ideas. "The thing in Paris was fucking huge. I wonder how they'd get it under the palace? Unless they grew it here?"

Additionally some relevant V music for you
>"The thing in Paris was fucking huge. I wonder how they'd get it under the palace? Unless they grew it here?"
I was about to ask. Unless they'd shoved it through the Magical Chunnel disguised as a train.
capbro? meaning who?
The bro who was capping these adventures nigga
this shit has been going on for two days mate, probobly at work or sleeping
I get that faget, I was replying to this nigger >>37821540
thats me gay man, now stop acting like a /b/tard
Where was I?

Ah yes, so there's no big holes, therefore it could literally be fucking anywhere under the palace. He could have been feeding it on stocks of royal food, or wine, or diverted a sewer, we have no idea, it might even have laid eggs.

(we did later let the French Embassy know they might want to have a look in the catacombs and under Notre Dame)

There's some discussion. The DM, being a cunt. Goes into his bag (we played at my place) and takes out an old fashioned alarm clock and sets it for 45 minutes time from now. (Fuck. You. DM).

We can get under the palace and *maybe find it* or we can get into the palace and wait for it to come up from out of the floor or whatever.

The river side is least defended. Now the automatons would be an issue. Would. Except one thing. They're steel.

Wizard decides to have a go, we might even get some troopers to assist us if he can charm it. Well at least he didn't role a 1. He does however manage to get the thing to walk straight forwards, into the river, setting off in the direction of Brussels. It was later heard of in Munich, then Istanbul, then Hyderabad, then Brisbane, I still wake up in the middle of the night worrying it might be spotted in Chile, making the return trip. Pissed as hell.
>The DM, being a cunt. Goes into his bag (we played at my place) and takes out an old fashioned alarm clock and sets it for 45 minutes time from now. (Fuck. You. DM).

>I still wake up in the middle of the night worrying it might be spotted in Chile, making the return trip. Pissed as hell.
Automatons from hell, even scarier than some leech-clown-spider-thing.... It's real now, and it's coming to get you!!
thanks for the epick thread mate, i hope its up tomarow so i can look it over after my midterm and catch up, its 23.00 here so nighty night to you mr. dwarf and to all the /tg/ bros lurking
I just want to point out that would have been fucking epic. Shame we didn't think of it first.

So, the way in is clear, we get in fast, going for a balcony, we acquire some vestments (priest clothes). Cruella's knives do our bluffwork for us "I am not a girl. Am I? Good. No."

Now for those non British Anons, the pic is of the interior of westminister abbey, and we wait. Guns, knives, hammer, (I don't know how either, but bagpipes and flamethrower too) under our robes.

The ceremony is beautiful. Dottering mad King Algernon forgets what he's doing, falls asleep, doesn't remember the words, tries to give the crown back to the archbishop.

Then suddenly, there's a rumble. There's a honk. and right in the middle of that pic, up comes the biggest murderworm yet.

We let our vestments drop.

The whirring of the gatling shotgun is drowned out as the bard launches into https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSH0eRKq1lE [Scotland the Brave] [Note to the Americans, this is hilarious.]

and as the Navvie leaps, he starts to glow again (I make a mental note to look into that), Cruella follows, Angus goes nuts, and the wizard and I light the fucker up.

Algernon is under the throne, the archbishop is being eaten, and the great and the good run for cover.
The fight is not over quickly, nor is it bloodless, but by god do we do our country proud. When the smoke clears, when my gatling runs dry, and with most of Westminster Abbey ablaze (careful Angus) the King is crowned atop the body of one giant fucking scary French clownworm and we get a royal pardon.
There is more, but unless you all are desperate for more right now, I do need to actually sleep.
We really need to archive this... For OP, and for the ages...
Please continue tomorrow, you're a credit to our great nation
If I get the chance, I will, I must ask Anon to try and bump through the night
We should archive this.
I concur.
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I see this but with a large red nose, and the back spikes turn into spider legs.
>going for the warlock
You know its going to be the padre who found you right?
Shush satan

Bumping for the glory of britbongsteros
Does anyone know how to archive stuff?
Bump for Queen and Country
Good morning Gentlemen. I will attempt to update throughout today. If it falls off the board I may be able to continue on Sunday.
well here is a free bump
I just want to tell you anon, I love your setting.
It's fantastic.

I have to ask though, why is Dundee Orcs?
Afraid the only answer I can give you is "because it's Dundee of course" we never really questioned it.
Ah, okay.
I've not been to Dundee, but from what little I know it doesn't sound too out of character.

What's Birmingham like?

Will you be in a position for a storytime today about your battles with the Sheepmen and the Irish?
Though if we have any anons from specific countries or regions I am happy to let you know what your place is like.
all right ill bite, whats in poland
Birmingham: humans. Between the Dwarves to the North, the Welsh to the west and the Faerie run weirdness of the south it serves as a reasonably healthy industrial and trading town. When it's not surrounded by angry Welsh people.

Poland doesn't exist as it does in the modern world. It's more the Poland of 18th century. The Lancers (actual eaglemen) war with both the Germanic bear people and the Russians who are (like the Germans mostly human but with plenty bears and also wolves. They also have literal bear cavalry).
How bad is Milton Keynes, OP?

What about America? New York is FATSTRONG, but what about the rest? How kickass is George Washington and did the Mount Dagon/Mount Merryweather settlement survive against the Puritan attacks due to Judeo-Pagan battle magic and/or the intervention of the actual Dagon?
Milton Keynes is at the centre of numerous leylines, these are channelled into numerous stone circles, therefore MiltonKeynes is used as a centre for Faerie magical research due to its great number of roundabouts.

as mentioned we didn't go near the place but from what I recall and am in part making up on the spot now.

America is a magical place (like /k/) and each state or couple of states has something weird going on. The eastern seaboard is reasonably normallish with crusades being mounted from the area into the middle and western regions. Numerous native American nations hold territory throughout the area. The Native Americans are famed for their aerial prowess with Apache Dragons being particularly feared. The Chinooks strike deep in American states and have excellent logistics. The Cherokee are famed as air cavalry.

The Americans would be pushed into the sea were it not for European Crusaders attempting to push through to get to the supposed holy land which for (insane Mormon reasons) is somewhere in Utah.
this one might be bigger. But what's up in africa? Colonis on their way or still not there yet? How is Greece, did the gods asend and start fucking every one like they did in the good ol' days? Are Welsh people a hybrid of humans and labrador retrivers in your setting?
So. For the next episode we must skip forward in time about six months. Algernon has proved a weak king (no surprise) and the Welsh and Irish are preparing to invade. We have our royal charter and the party reconvene in Harrogate
central Africa is still marked as here be (literally) dragons. There are European colonies on the coast and a little into the interior. North Africa is much as it was in Roman times (I.E. quite civilized).

Greece is 18th century Greece. The gods ascended 1500 years ago and now it's a shithole full of poets wondering where the majesty of Greece went.
(Sorry Greece-
>Milton Keynes is at the centre of numerous leylines, these are channelled into numerous stone circles, therefore MiltonKeynes is used as a centre for Faerie magical research due to its great number of roundabouts.
So full of honorific vortices of unnatural power and experimentation by inhuman rulers.
Nice to see somewhere in the UK is an improvement in Britbongsteros.
now I gotta wonder, what are all the viking lands like, fi they are not eternally pillaging each other, Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Sweden, all those fun neighbors?
Might as well try and cover the rest of the world.
Middle East? India? (You talked about the Indian Mutiny happening, anything else?)
How's China and Japan holding up?
I assume South America is a complete and total shithole?
How's Spain, and did it colonize a ton of the new world? Italy?
I don't know if it's possible not to improve Milton Keynes
King Algernon I has been persuaded to lead an army into Wales. Armed with the new Martini Henry rifles (remember way back at the start of this? Thats what we got from the alchemist) they march confidently into Wales. Initial skirmishes go well. Welsh barbarians chucking spears, then melting back into the bush at the first volley. The army marches on to Harlech. Algernon leads an assault on the castle of King Rorke and his men of Harlech. Algernon is captured and the army massacred. Failures in the supply train (the army have boxes of ammo for those new rifles. The boxes are screwed shut. No screwdrivers) see the army butchered to a man.
Horrific. And now I'm disgusted at what my autocorrect has learnt.
....holy fuck that's a stupid and completely believable oversight.

Also, how's New Orleans? In our world it was were all the non-worthless french went, hunters and trappers and pirates. So is it like wood elves or something?
wait dosent the army have knifes? And dont they have meatl controling wizards?
Huh, didn't know that.
Our mission, when we choose to accept it. Is to get into Harlech, possibly kill king Rorke and rescue Algernon.
I'll just remind you about this real quick. These stories have inspired me to seriously consider DMing a campaign in this setting, probably in a different region of the world. Any information you could give would be helpful, this is already amazing. I just would like to pay homage to it.
>new Martini Henry rifles
Oh, this is gonna be a world of hurt for some barbarians...

>army marches on to Harlech
Wait, what? My spider-sense tingles...

>King Rorke and his men of Harlech
>King Rorke
>men of Harlech
[spider-sense usuthuing internally]

>boxes are screwed shut
>No screwdrivers
I. Love. Your. DM.
My advice is read some local mythology for the relevant area, a bit of history on Wikipedia and then just go nuts. It's what we did. I will however try and fill those areas in for you later.
I'm sure he'd love to hear it, but I have a confession. I wrote this campaign for him.
As in the one in Wales, I'm not that creative for the rest.


First it's necessary to lay out exactly what the Welsh are (sorry Wales). They're a mix of satyrs, half man, half goat, centaurs, and similar. All with the top half of a man and the lower half of some form of Ungulate. They're tribesmen, smart, cunning, and well organised.

Harlech is remote, a large isolated castle. Definitely not something the six of us (+ penguin) can storm by force.

King Rorke is half man, half bull. There are also rumours of the Welsh being supported by a wizard, one who calls himself
> Half man, half goat
> Not Half man, half sheep

Actually, I suppose that would've been too easy.
>why are the Welsh so annoyed?

Queenie ruled that they weren't human and therefore English settlers could claim their lands by force.

Godzilla'ed with no survivors. The group loathes all things weeaboo.

ruled by king Quixote, a noble and honest knight who won the support of the peasantry through his charm and chivalric deeds. Spain is a haven of peaceful learning and culture.
The those Spaniards who didn't fit in with the chivalric ideal were exiled to the nightmare of South America. The Aztecs and Mayans hold strong in mountain strongholds.

The terracotta armies hold back the Mongol horsemen (I.e. actual centaurs) along a towering great wall. Some trade now occurs with britbongsteros, tea for opium.

no one has heard much of the place but rumours of a second Roman empire have been heard.
>middle east
Arabian nights + huge reserves of magic oil. A clusterfuck waiting to happen. A britbongsteros citizen (Orrance) advocates for Arab self rule. Britbongsteros has plans to annex the place once trouble at home is resolved.
Additionally, anyone who even mentions the country, or swords, or weaponry, or Tasmanian shadowpuppetry summons Godzilla, and Godzilla will annhilate them and only them
(I refer to Japan)

>New Orleans
Underwater. The mermaid elves are probably pretty happy. Except the sentient sharks. And the voodoo.
I could live in this world of yours.
I just want to add GW if you're reading this I'd happily give up the bar and unfuck warhammer for you. DO NOT DERAIL THREAD
bump for GW
So. We are in my Dorf Fortress. Six months have passed and the party have used them well.

has learnt to weaponise the bagpipes. He may now damage enemies with them
Invented napalm. Runs a successful shop. (He is a greengrocer at heart)
Is now Sir Wizard, got married. Has further developed his powers.
Now officially consort of Aldous. Has obtained a wicked looking bastard sword. Talks to it. It may talk back.
The spirit of the Union (the magic glowy thing) defies all research. Still likes hitting stuff.
I have some new titles, a waifu, and the gatling shotgun has gone tacticool.

>Purple Penguin
already at level cap.

So we unfurl the map again. I light my pipe. The bard helps as usual by humming a tune. Everyone leans in and we start to plot.
Going overland seems more than a little dangerous. The army was lead into a trap and it seems the party would be ambushed if we tried.

We could go by sea however. We'd have to be careful and lucky to avoid the Irish.

Or we could go south through the much safer channel and then up and round. It is still likely that we would meet pirates.

We decide to sail from Liverpool and see what happens.

We provision ourselves and move on from Harrogate to Liverpool.
>ruled by king Quixote

All thanks to the steady hand and suspicious mind of Prime Minister At Large Sancho Panza, and no mistake!
Obliged, how could I forget?

So we arrive in port. There are three ships we can take:

1. The "HMS Invincible 2", a battlecruiser. Not exactly subtle.
2. The tramp steamer - "Matilda," subtle, not exactly fast. Looks inconspicuous
3. The gunboat - HMS "38 Minutes," small, fast, and exactly the sort of thing the pirates would love to steal if they can catch us.

We favour the gunboat for the stealthy approach, reasoning we may also need to run away quickly.
The royal charter (a very handy document, I should say we are described as "Adventurers By Appointment to [s] Her Majesty - Queenie hugs, kisses and I'll chop off your balls[S] His Majesty Algernon I, for services rendered" on the charter)

Anyway, this document sees us aboard the 38 minutes and sailing south at great speed. The Bard pipes us out of harbour as is tradition. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WLYT0NR8ZLc [Saxon, thin red line]

>DM: roll some dice please Bard


>you kill three bystanders.

>Oh, I forgot about that.I'll play a bit more quietly next time.
it turns out I cannot do BBS code. that is meant to be a strikeout between the [s] [s ] and the [s]. [/s]
aah fuck it, you get the idea.

Anyway, we make good speed southwards.

As we round a headland, the shout comes "BOARD THEM."

We've run straight into an ambush. Two pirate ships sling grappling harpoons at us.

We look at each other. We split into two groups and shout. "BOARD THEM BACK!"
[s]does strikeout even work on 4chan?[/s]
Guess not.
4chan doesn't have strikethrough.
The pirates don't last very long, at all. The 38 Minutes rakes them with machine gun fire before we board, and the party commit all sorts of unpleasantness to the crew.

The bard looks around.

>Guys I have an idea

>We take these sails, and well there's six of us, Wizard, Cruella and Me are the tallest so we could sort of cover each other with sails so from a distance we'd look sorta like centaurs and...


Angus: I have another idea, lets take one of these ships.
unanimously agreeing that Angus's plan is less stupid, we decide to leave the 38 Minutes moored in a cove near Harlech, and take the "The Revenge of the Purple Penguin" in closer for a look at the castle.
You the guy who had a gf but didn't know until we told you to talk to her?
Cause I'm you're still together if so.
>Aztec and Mayans
>South America
Both the Aztec and Maya lived in Mexico, m8. There were no "mountains" to hold their lands, only swamp and jungle. Only the Incan EMPIRE lived in South America, ruling with a just, kind rule all throughout the Andes.
They were also the only ones with stone and land that ISN'T utter shit.
Its an alternate reality. Bear people exiist, and battleships are captained by Griffons. Isaac newton built automatons that guard parliament and Alchemists pilot weird giant nautilus beasts. You have an issue with a small error in the placement of a culture? Perhaps they just realized that the Fuckhuge volcano near where they live is a Fuckhuge, and went to somewhere with better defensibility and resources?
Thank you.


I did make a mistake
Well, my apologies.

Shit, I need to do a Maya Civ.
The Inca could have mountain fortresses.

The castle.

See pic related. Because, well it's fucking Harlech Castle, we sneak ashore in just before dawn, using the dusk for cover, and get a little closer. We set up on a little hill nearby and decide to observe the situation. There's thick mist. Really thick. We use the cover of it to get on the hill into a copse of trees.

The bard and DM are passing notes. Nothing is on fire yet, so we're probably ok. But that's a really bad sign,

We settle in and wait for daybreak.
We can just make out the torches on the castle walls and not much else. When the sun starts to get rid of the fog, we start seeing more detail, and hearing things. All around us. We appear to have followed a stream (to avoid being tracked/scented) straight into the enemy camp.

We're surrounded by tents and dozing centaurs.

Alright. Plan B. Lets wait for nightfall.

We pass the day sleeping and observing as best we can.

Observations include:

- That's a fuckton of Welsh
- Let's not go out there for a bit
Archived for future generations. Keep going mate, we're all waiting in anticipation.
What's Canada like in this world? If it isn't full of moose and bear cavalry with ninja beaver people I'll be mildly disappointed until you likely top my ideas.
We wait for nightfall. The bard starts getting twitchy about dusk. He goes into his bag and removes a small sail.

>guys guys we could...
>Shut the fuck up (bard player)

We think and discuss (quietly). We are pretty sure our king will be held not far from King Rorke. We also know they want his ransom so they haven't killed him. Our best bet is to get into the castle at night, and get out again King in tow and a knife through Rorkes heart. Now aside from Cruella, none of our weapons are exactly stealthy.... We need a diversion.
>wouldn't a disguise be really useful here?

No shut up bard.

As fog starts to come up, we have a thought. The baggage train includes a lot of hay (because centaurs dont like pulling carts so there are normal livestock), surely a small fire would become a big one pretty fast. A technowizard bomb in amongst all that ammo they stole from the kings army would also sure be handy.

We reason with enough flame and smoke, Rorke will have to send his bodyguard, or at least some out, to help deal with things, and they'll have to come through the main gate.
And the ammo dump cooking off should give us enough sound and random richochets to cover us if we have to go loud.

Angus gets given the job of starting the fire, and Wizard of assembling the bomb. We split up. Bard and Angus with me, and Cruella and Navvie with Wizard.
This was of course the plan.

They say no plan survives contact with the enemy. Well...

The wizards team set off in the fog and darkness, with Cruella with them they should manage to be stealthy enough for the wizard to set off a timed explosion with limited disturbance.
Well team wizard snuck through rows of tents and with a couple of guards getting a second smile, they did just fine. Setting off to wait in the ditch next to the main gate for us.

Our stealth team has: a dwarf in plate armour. An orc with a full on flamethrower, and a bard who normally contributes to the war effort by bagpiping. We are ninja.
We get surprisingly far with our efforts before Angus trips on a guy rope. Falling into a rack of weaponry, making enough racket to wake up the Welshmen in the tent nearest.
I and Bard have decent social skills. We could, but neither of us speak Welsh.

> start shooting?
Retarded for obvious reasons

They'll raise the alarm

>silent takedown?
Cruella is the only member of party able to do that usefully.

>"guys we could..."
>shut up bard.
Hiding is our best option though. We duck into some barrels and Bard tosses the sail cloth over us. In the dark and the mist it's just enough.

>Bard player is positively beaming at this point.
We wait, holding our breath, we look innocous enough against the background of mist and tents, in amongst the baggage train we are just another half shape in the darkness.

We listen to the beastmen bicker and pick up spears.

We wait.

We peek out. We got away with it.
We continue on. Angus is delivered to the hay bails. He has so many fire related skills that him buidling a small fire which won't be seen but will burn very very fast into the bales (after about five minutes) is easy enough for him.
(IIRC he used a stub of candle, a lantern, and some thick rope soaked in oil as a sort of fuse - it was enough though)

We snuck on. Dm perhaps recognising we could all die really easily is likely to have fudged several rolls here and a lot of the camp were passed out drunk which was useful.
To the fourth day and onwards!! Everybody hails our great OP!!!
>spirit of the Union
God damn this is so fucking awsome.
Overnight Bump
I just sat up in the middle of the night.I had the weirdest feeling that something was wrong. Britbongsteros needs me!

Anyway, The fire gets going into a good blaze and down comes the drawbridge. Hooves thunder over us as we wait. Then the ammo dump goes up. Perfect.
Bump for Fae-King and Country!
Live, damn you, live!
I'm in the middle of reading this thread and it appears to be low in the page listings.
And now I've finished reading what's been posted so far.

Good stuff.

Hopefully the thread will still be here when Aldous has time again, but if not then I'll just keep an eye out for the continued adventures in Britbongsteros on Sunday.
here is a early morning bump
The thread is archived guys, go and vote on it.
Greetings Anons. Slow updates today but I shall do my best. While I'm here I can answer a question or two.

Remember there's lots and lots of Canadian mythology to use. Think of the logging camp stories, the wendigo, Bigfoot. Don't forget you've also got a mix of French, British and Indians deep innawoods.
We wait until the hooves stop. The portcullis starts to fall. Wizard creates tension in the chains and we get up, over and under the portcullis as the drawbridge starts to rise behind us. We are in and it seems no one is any the wiser. The wizard causes the iron of the portcullis to splay out into the cobblestones. No one is getting in or out without our say so. (We do know there is a sally port on the far (seaward) wall.
It suddenly occurs to us we don't really have any idea where the king is, but as Rorke is up on the walls (along with everyone else seemingly) we make for the cellars (And hopefully) prison
Where is it archived? suptg? I can't find it in the search, what tags did you use?
tags include purple penguin
We get into the cellars relatively easily and as far as we know, unseen. What we find in the cellars is impressive to say the least. Cask after cask, barrel after barrel. Out of curiosity it we find an open one. It's guiness.

>Guiness is Irish!


It appears Harlech is what has happened to what the Welsh used to trade with the rest of britbongsteros (along with tin and mutton).
We go onward, getting deeper into the innards of the castle. We find a locked door, and after lockpicking it (with hammer) find a surprised looking pair of guards and a large number of cells.
If this isn't here later I'll start another when I get a chance
It only has about 9 bumps left in it.
Good point. I'll try and return on Sunday.
>Thunderstruck on bagpipes
I think I just found your bard: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K-Op1Mng4oY
Thanks, got it. It's only got three votes, guys get in there this is much better than endless quest threads.

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