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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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Stat them, draw them, greentext them, anything goes
>inb4 "how do they poop"
>This kills the meme
They poop/piss from the middle, right?

Problem solved.
No, dummy, they have a portal in the middle of their body
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Are horseshoes made for traveling backwards? It seems to me like the most efficient way for them to move would be jumping, with the rear half pushing off (especially if pushmis are smaller and lighter than centaurs; built off a gazelle or a goat e.g.)
If we assume that they're Large, and something like +1 STR, +2 CON, -2 DEX, what would be good mixes of classes for the two halves?
+3 WIS, since 2 heads
+3 sounds like a little much. I was going to argue against +wis entirely, but I can see how they'd need to learn to collaborate and compromise to get anywhere, literally and culturally. How long would we reckon they'd live, esp. compared to centaurs?
Since they're a magically created race, I'd say they're more peaceful and wise. Maybe more civilized than centaurs.
like, really though, they can't exactly give birth to more of their kind. No genitals
Not birth per se, I suppose. Even after some wizard or lich (accidentally?) created them though, it's entirely possible they'd have piqued the interest of some god or archfey willing to create more of their kind in exchange for their service/worship as favorite pets.
I like that. Maybe it could fit in with that story a writefag did last thread, where they were created by a god who heard the pleas of a dying man who wanted a war to end.
Their culture may be centered around the fact that they're always conjoined twins, maybe learning of compromise and accepting differences at a young age?
Based on the fact that they're a magical race, I'd say they're long lived, maybe up to 200 years or so
Bump out of interest
Maybe there could be some variation in the story? Maybe it wasn't a god but a very powerful magic user? Maybe he created them out of sheer humour, an experiment, or even to fulfill a certain roll?

They story told in the last thread was just a story, maybe it only contains hints of the truth.
It could be a magic user, maybe a wizard who artificially extended his life and made the race as an experiment? He could be making more of them as a way for them to "give birth" since he feels responsible for their existence
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>Wizard making a new race out of boredom
>Gets a sense of right and wrong and tries to atone by making EVEN MORE
Sounds about right
Anyone got the greentexts from last thread?
>be newly-minted archwizard
>fucking around with earth-shattering arcana because why not, the owlbear guy did it
>wind up with pushmis
>cute and great for a laugh, stumbling around and bickering with themselves
>decide to keep them as pets instead of throwing them out into the wilds
>as they grow up, decide to make them useful, doing chores around the tower and such
>take them along in jaunts to civilization as menial assistants and showpieces, to the amusement of city-dwellers
>they grow up learning the values of cooperation and hard work
>decades later, they've fully matured, but have become alternately morose and driven to the point of obsession
>they're still getting fucked up with hormones, but can't reproduce
>feel pity for them
>decide to take samples from pairs and grow them into new pushmis in arcane laboratory, to tears of joy
>eventually take one of the new generation on as an apprentice
>receive a call for aid to save the world from some catastrophy
>have to leave the Prime Material and the tower behind
>leave apprentice with the secrets of progenation
>over the years, they gradually create their own society around the tower
>youths venture out for adventure or to live among other civilizations
>most eventually make a pilgrimage back to have their children in the tower's laboratories
>smaller and more affable than centaurs, they have sylvan senses but are abominations to nature (like said owlbears) so they tend to be urbane
>many find work in human cities as labor and entertainers
>with their ability to bound over obstacles and immunity to being flanked, others become couriers or watchmen
>while no more than 1 in a pair ever has the talent for magic, wizard, alchemist, and apothecary are held up as noble and even sacred professions
I like it
>They hop around to travel quickly
That's kinda cute
The monk's pose in this one cracks me up every time.
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>Monk & Cleric
Monk & Cleric obvs
Thanks, anons. Admittedly, since my initial post, I've been imagining them looking more like >>62836204 (which would probably actually quality is Medium-sized) than of, say, >>62964795
Their language would probably depend on the race of their creator-- if it was a gnome, say, they might speak Gnomish and write in Dwarven by default. Faith would probably be towards the local God of Magic or a cult venerating their father-creator, if anything?
Might change their stats to +Int instead of Con or Wis

Apparently, the healer in the 'heal' post was supposed to be a dwarf cleric, so either she's unusually tall or the Monk is sort of the D&D version of Little Mac.
Well, a post last thread was a statblock for Pathfinder, and they got additional Wisdom, but had to make two WIS checks
I suppose the biggest question there is whether you would run each half as a separate character (with both players taking their turns at the same time and agreeing on their actions) or as a unit, because it could easily work both ways.
I actually really want to play (half of) one.
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No, but really though, how do they even eat? There's not enough space to have two fully-formed digestive systems. Hell, there's barely enough for two sets of the organs that keep you alive. It'd mean that hitting them pretty much anywhere in the lower body would be a guaranteed kill.
Really? Each humanoid torso, ending at the waist, has plenty of space for... all of the organs you'd find in a humanoid torso. The digestive tracts just aren't coiled up so much, extending down into the equine body (and leaving more room for larger stomachs, for their caloric needs), while the equine body has room for shared/backup organs (e.g. spare lungs, third heart).
They don't need horse digestive systems, necessarily, because they're eating people food in something close to people quantities, not horse food in horse quantities.
oh neat, can someone convert this to 5e?
Actually working on something like that right now. Probably won't finish it until tomorrow morning, though.
Oh man, that sounds pretty cool
Hey! Nice to see some one capped that!
Wouldn’t they need to eat more than a horse if they’re horse sized?

My problem with this is that it forces you to make a completely combat centric character.
>forces you to make a combat centric character.

How do you mean?
Kinda janky, but I managed to piece it together.
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Got the other one here.
little less janky
I think that a few of the rules need fleshing out a bit more. Interesting idea though.
Each half is technically half horse sized
This thread feels very fetishy
Two-parter incoming; for 5e, but it's my first time homebrewing, so please be gentle.

Pushmi Traits

>Ability Score Increase
Your Strength and Intelligence scores increase by 1, your Consitution score increases by 2, and your Dexterity score decreases by two.

Due to their nature, maturity in Pushmis is difficult to gauge, but typically occurs somewhere between 15 and 20 years of age. Scholars speculate that they should expect to live somewhere between 100 and 200 years.

Pushmis tend towards Law and Good: Not only are they affable and industrious, but the ideals of cooperation, fair play, and conflict resolution are baked into their very biology.

Pushmis stand 5 to 6 feet tall, and typically weigh 500 to 800 pounds. While substantially smaller than the centaurs they resemble, their Size is still, in most cases, Large.

Your base walking speed is 40 feet.

Pushmis speak their own language, and most pick up a magical or trade language, such as Common, Dwarven or Draconic.

Not as bad as the first thread.
Every Pushmi possesses two sentient humanoid upper bodies, each of which has her own character sheet-- for obvious reasons, both halves of a Pushmi are of the same age and gender. In addition to their individual attributes, a Pushmi may occasionally need a shared attribute (Strength for carrying a passenger on their back, Constitution for resisting a disease, etc.); use the average of both halves' relevant arrtibute.

Both halves of a Pushmi have individual actions and bonus actions in combat, but take their turns at the same time and share a movement action-- if a Pushmi's halves can't agree on where to go, both halves roll 1d20 and move in the winner's chosen direction, but their speed is halved for that turn. Because of this coordinated movement, if a Pushmi is forced to react (rolling Initiative or a Reflex save, for instance), both players roll, but take the lower roll. Halves of a Pushmi may always pass each other items as a free action, however, cannot be Flanked, only take Sneak Attack damage if both halves are unaware, and have advantage on Will saves against any mind-altering effect that would cause them to harm their other half.

While each half of a Pushmi has her own Hit Points, if one half is injured, the other must make a Fortitude save (DC equal to the damage taken) or take half damage from sympathetic shock. If one half dies, the other is automatically Stunned for 1d4 rounds, has their Speed reduced to 10 feet, and automatically fails Athletics checks (as she's forced to drag along her inert half), but as long as one half survives, the dead half behaves as if under a Gentle Repose spell. One Resurrection or similar spell will affect both halves.

>Natural Weapons
You are proficient with using your hooves to make unarmed attacks. If you hit with them, they do 2d4 + Strength modifier in bludgeoning damage.
>Equine Body
While two heads are better than one, your shared body can occasianally be rather awkward.

You are unable to wear humanoid armor below the belt (leggings, greaves, or boots e.g.), though both halves may share barding. Unless your hooves are muffled, you have disadvantage on Stealth checks when walking on hard surfaces, such as stone, brick, or glass.

Based it partially off of https://www.dndbeyond.com/characters/races/1260-centaur
I have to catch a bus though, so I won't be able to modify it until later this afternoon.

They reproduce through mitosis. Once they get to a certain size they pull apart at the middle, each half coming away with a new foal/child on their back end. Each one then basically raises their new back half until its old enough to raise children of its own then it splits again.
At least we're getting some proper worldbuilding
Paladin is the patrician's choice
This seems like it'd be really awkward re: moving and fighting and such.
Inclined to say no to this one.
Good job.
Now all we need is for someone to build a character with this.
that's fucking stupid
bump because I'm still stuck phoneposting
Looks like I was the slower half, too
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>Pushmi-Pullyu posting in fantasy 4chan
>They keep samefagging, arguing, and replying to each other, unaware of what the other's doing
God, imagine them in some modern fantasy setting
Read the first thread and honestly enjoyed the writing that was done. I’ll keep watch on this one and maybe try my hand at writing something after work.
I'm digging the idea of a magically created race, but I would remove from them the potential of some grand pocket colony of them. I like the idea of this race of what are essentially children abandoned to the world by an indifferent parent who creates them when he needs and casts them aside when they've served their purpose.

I like the though of these creatures wandering the planes trying to hunt down this mythical "absentee father" that they can't help but feel some connection to, due to him being the closet thing to a parent that they may ever know and possibly the only source of answers as to the purpose of their existence.

Them meeting in the wild would be rare occurrences, and any time it would happen wouldn't so much be celebrations but important moments when they could share information and exchange stories of the little time each of them had spent with their creator.
>modern fantasy setting

The only place that I can see these things existing would be operating a god damn vegan bistro in Vancouver, which would automatically make me want to strangle them to death.
>parental abandonment issues: the race
What classes or occupations would a Pushmi-Pullyu be best suited to?
They'd definitely be good guards, since you can't backstab them or sneak behind them. Maybe caravan defenders
That makes sense. I could imagine them as watchmen and light guards, given that they’re smaller and less robust than centaurs but aren’t easily surprised or caught off guard. They also seem fairly friendly and personable, if more than a bit odd, so putting them into service roles or making many of them traveling merchants, entertainers and messengers would make sense.
Definitely guards of all stripes, entertainers. I could see them as inn keepers or maybe smiths.
Any job requiring one or two quick, clever and observant people would be a good fit I wager.
I could see a dozen or so of these things atop a castle wall, one armed with a bow and the other armed with a pole arm to push over ladders.
Being a guide, either across the countryside or through a town or village, would probably be a good job for a Pushmi-Pullyu. They have one head to look forward, watching where they’re going and for approaching hazards, and one head looking backward, watching their charges and making sure they’re not sttacked from the rear. They seem like they’d have to be good-natured and have good interpersonal skills so they’d be able to keep the people traveling with them upbeat and entertained too.
good-natured and have good interpersonal skills so they’d be able to keep the people traveling with them
That is until they start arguing with themselves.
Even arguing with themselves is kind of ebtertaining
>Be Cleric
>Passing through a small town.
>Got word of some shady goings on.
>Livestock slaughtered in the fields
>Fields of crops burned.
>Children going missing in the nearby forest.
>The usual.
>Arrive alone, heard that there would be others in the area that I could team up with.
>Been looking around this village for hours now.
>Haven't seen anyone besides these frightened villagers.
>I ask around about others who might have come.
>Whenever I ask the person starts looking worried.
>Same answer every time:
“Well, someone...something... did come, then it went into the woods.”
>Decide to wait it out.
>If they're alive, they'll come out before nightfall.
>If they're dead, then I'll just wait for others to arrive.

>Sitting on a stump, staring at the trees where the villagers tell me the other person entered the forest.
>The people seem happy to have me here.
>Free food, half-decent wine.
>Makes the wait a little easier.
>Movement in the trees.
>Whatever it is, it's not afraid of making noise.
>Don't hear footsteps, only a dragging noise.
>Stand up from the stump.
>Grab my mace and holy symbol.
“The Lord of Light ensures that I may never walk in shadows.”
>Symbol begins to glow.
>A stream of light casts forth upon the wall of trees.
>Whatever's coming through isn't that tall, just large.
>A shape emerges.
>It's human.
>No, it's a centaur.
>Pretty short for a centaur.
>Half breed?
>She doesn't look like she's in the best condition.
>She sees me, squinting her eyes at the light I am casting.
“Is this the village?”
>She looks behind her back quickly.
>Did something follow her?
“Yes, are you okay?”
“I'm fine. Are you a cleric?”
>She doesn't look fine.
“I am.”
“Can you heal?”
“I can, do you need aid?”
“Ye- no- I mean, I don't-
>Looks behind her again.
“But she does.”
>Does she have a rider? Is she carrying someone?
>Is she even strong enough to carry someone?
>Rush to the trees where the centaur is standing.
>She's rigged up a crude stretcher from some thin logs and branches and mounted it on her back so she could drag it behind her.
>She carrying a woman.
>She's bleeding from her temple.
>She's breathing, but non-responsive.
>This woman looks just like the centaur.
>A satyr?
>is the centaur dragging it's hind legs and this woman?
“Bugbears, one of them leapt from a tree and struck her with a club. I couldn't wake her so I had to drag her back. It hurt a lot. Please heal her.”
>Why does it look like this woman is connected to her?
“They have an encampment deep in this forest. We managed to route them after killing a fair few of them, but I can't guarantee that they didn't follow us. Please heal her. It hurts greatly.”
>Must be the dark playing with my eyes.
“How do you know her?”
“She is me. The pain is immense. Please heal her.”
“What about-”
“Heal her, please!”
>She looks distressed.
>She doesn't want to speak anymore.
>I place my hands upon the thing on the stretcher.
“All pains and wounds are soothed under the Lord of Light's hand.”
>The Lord of Light's warms flows through my fingers into the creature.
>The bleeding stems.
>The wounds close.
>I look to the centaur.
>No, that's not right.
>I don't know what she is.
>I look to the one that's awake.
>A look of relief has spread across her face.
>The scratches on her cheeks fade.
“She'll probably be unconscious for a while yet.
“No. She won't.”
“Trust me, I've seen this many times before. We should get her to a bed where she can rest.”
“No. I will not.”
>The one standing didn't say that.
>The voice came from the stretcher.
>I look down.
>Its eyes are open.
“Are we back?”
“We're in the village.”
“Our enemies are dead?”
“Only the ones we killed.”
“So there's many left to go.”
“We're not yet done.”
>I can't help but gape at the sight of these two talking amongst themselves.
>Don't know if I'm supposed to say something.
“You, Cleric.”
“Hey, Healer.”
>Are they talking to me?
“Thank you for your service.”
“Your skills are much appreciated.”
“The pain was very great.”
“I feel much better now.”
>This has got to be the oddest show of gratitude that I've experienced to date.
>Even weirder than that gnome who offered me his daughter.
“Are you here to fight?”
“Were you planning to help?”
>I suppose that's what I'm here for.”
“Yeah... I guess.”
>They look at each other for a moment before turning back to me.
“Will you be joining us then?”
“Would you be willing to assist us?”
>They must be the “something” the villagers were talking about.
“I think so...”
>They smile.
“We leave tomorrow morning.”
“Into the trees at sun up.”
“We've got a good amount of ground to cover.”
“The bugbears are located quite deep in.”
>This might just become something I didn't quite sign up for.
“For now we rest!”
“To the inn!”
“You're a follower of Solom?”
“A Lord of Light disciple?”
“Does your order know any good songs?”
“I'm told I'm a wonderful singer.”
Real good shit
Very good! You’ve got a good writing style and I like how bafflingly sing-song you’ve made their speech patterns. I’d be very interested in seeing you continue the take, if you have a mind to.

Thanks dudes.
>Derrel took a half-stumble as the loose stone slid out from under his foot, nearly sending him falling forward into his face for the third time in as many hours.

>Throwing one arm back, the burly mercenary managed to keep himself from tumbling forward onto the bath but not without loosing a couple choice curses at the rock as it went rolling down the mountain.

>As steady and sure-footed as Derrel found himself in a fight, he was a flatlander born and raised, and was finding the high trails with their steep inclines and unstable terrain more trying than he had expected.

>His guides, on the other hand were having no difficulties whatsoever, practically prancing up the slope on those cloven hooves, leaping nimbly from ledge to boulder in search of the best vantage points upward and downward as they ascended.

>"Let us hold up a moment."

>One said, frowning softly with concern as she watched the man regain his balance and swear to himself on the trail below.

>"Shall we hold up a moment?"

>The other replied in slightly more bemused tone of voice, looking back over her shoulder to regard both her charge and her sister.

>"It's nearly time for the Noonday meal, and perhaps he is tired."

>The first explained, looking over her own shoulder and back up the mountain to her sister, her expression one of mild concern while the second smiled a somewhat cheeky sort of smile for the Derrel's benefit, nodding in agreement.

>"He is tired, and perhaps it is nearly time for the Noonday meal."

>Not feeling like arguing the point, the merc nodded and planted himself on a nearby slab of stone, watching as his guides leapt up onto a nearby outcropping to survey the mountainside around them with keen eyes, their weapons at the ready.
Has there been any discussion of the Pushmi-Pullyus having a culture or a nation, or are they more like a kind of wandering fey folk?
Good Start

I like the thought of them being wandering cast offs from a powerful (but indifferent) magic user or the creation of a god (for what purpose, only it knows).
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I actually like those options, and the idea that Pushmi-Pullyus have something of a multiple choice past with no real recorded history.

Some may say they're the chosen children of a trickster god, or that they were created as an ill-conceived warrior race, or that they were centaurs caught in some bizarre magical accident, or that they're fey from a far off land.

They're wanderers and travelers and it is very rare to come across more than one in a very long time.
And when you do find one, you better be a fan of songs and overly drawn out conversations that you won't be a part of.
Thanks. Not sure what this will become, but I wanted to start writing something like I'd said.

Wandering cast-offs is a good angle to take, like they were the "happy little accidents" of some wizardly Bob Ross.
>wizard Bob Ross
And we'll just give them a second little head here, because everybody needs a friend.
Those seem to be the two main interpretations, actually.
Perhaps Pushmis and Doubletaurs (Pullyus?) could be separate things?
>doubletaurs created by a wrathful god's curse, per anon's excellent writefaggotry, while pushmis were created by a archmage trying to play god
>doubletaurs are Large, being built off horses
>usually either proud and obstinate or mysterious and feylike, tending neutral and/or chaotic
>pushmis are Medium, being built off a smaller animal like a deer/goat/llama, and more docile
>both extremely rare, doubletaurs lost their civilization and are trying to find their place in the world, while pushmis were thrust into the world and are trying to find roots in civilization

I think that, no matter what, we can all agree that Bard is an excellent class choice for at least half of them.
Maybe they don't so much share a culture, but a set of inborn traits that seem to be shared amongst them for no explainable reason (like their speaking habits).
I do like that about them, that they're always "thinking aloud" together, and that anyone speaking with them is always speaking with both of them at once. It adds to that feeling that they are a strange, magical race that doesn't quite act as we do.

Those are interesting ideas. I think that there very well could be Pushmi-Pullyus that are more horse-like, and others that are more goat-like or deer-like or llama-like, though I'm not sure about having more than one "race" of them necessarily. I'm growing more fond of the idea that they might not know much about their past as a species and might not much care, as they may live more "in the now" and focus more on the relationships they have with their other halves and the people they meet.
I feel like doubletaur would be a nickname or weird insult, like knife ears or something
That could be good if you wanted to go with the idea that they are fey creatures not quite of this world.

>They all share the same odd speaking habits.
>They're all skilled in singing songs and telling tales.
>They all have peculiar names that sound alike.
>They all know of each other, even if they've never met.
>They a
Yeah, "Doubletaur" sounds like something someone would call them if they didn;t know their real name and were struggling to come up with a quick description.
>>They a
>They all share some sort of vague connection?

For some reason, I'm imagining that Pushmi-Pullyus don't mate and reproduce like normal beings, but have just come into existence. There are only a certain number of them out in the world, and they all have certain roles and titles that they have adopted over the years.

>Jharlin-Jharlon the Storytellers
>Perri-Pirri the Explorers
>Dolk-Dalk the Blacksmiths
>Halla-Hella the Healers

And so on.
>There's exactly 200 pushmis in existence
>If one dies, another is born somewhere else, already matured
>They all have vague memories of their "previous" lives
Dem names.
Does titles
Totally cannon.
>They may not have been the very strangest creature that Derrel had come across in all his years as a mercenary, but they were definitely the strangest he had come to travel with and rely upon.

>A pair of women they were from their waists up, slim and sprightly of build and possessing those elfish features sometimes seen among the fey-touched.

>Below the waists, however, both sisters were joined as one, their lower extremities resembling something almost like a deer in its sleekness and a goat in its alpine agility.

>Seeming satisfied by their scan of the slope around them, his guides lowered themselves onto their stomach and folded their legs under them, one continuing to keep watch as the other began searching their saddlebags.

>"There don't seem to be any dangers nearby."

>"There are no nearby dangers, it would seem."

>They said, echoing each other as they so often seemed to do.

>Derrel grunted as he likewise made himself more comfortable atop the stone, twisting his back and rolling his shoulders until he was able to loosen some of the tension the morning's climb had worked into his muscles.

>Rummaging around in his rucksack, the burly merc ruminated on all the mountaineering left to go before they made it through Shadestone Pass and down the other side.

>And what then, after he'd descended? The journey he was on was not a pleasant one, and he had no guarantees that what he sought would be worth the hardship.

>"You look worried. Do you want to talk about it?"

>One asked, the one that was most often in the lead and wore her hair short and unbraided, the one with the smirking smile, Perri.

>"He doesn't look like he wants to talk about it, even if he is worried..."

>Her sister replied, the one that was more often the follower and who wore her hair in looped braids, the concerned one, Pirri.

>"It's none of your concern. Either of you."

>Derrel rumbled, seeking to quiet the talkative creature's questions before they began in earnest.
They all have names, and titles, and a purpose out in the wide world.
If they're all unique, they could each have a different horse/goat/deer/etc. body.
Maybe the majority have horse halves, but some have other hoofed creatures, with a very rare dozen having the halves of canines & felines.
With these ideas that there are always a specific number of Pushmi-Pullyus in the world that have each have a unique name, title and skill set, it sort of sounds like whatever created them did so with the specific aim of helping people.
fuck off, furry snowflake
We’ll see where this goes, if anywhere, tomorrow. Night folks!
>Hallu-Halla, the huntresses
>They have the lower halves of wolves instead of horses
>Famous trackers & hunters in the villages they live near, their combined archery skills have slain countless beasts
>To come across them means they must truly trust you, as it is near impossible to track them down
>If hunters are not careful in their territory, they may become the hunted.
Sorry meant to quote >>62991663
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these didn't get many pages in the comic, but hey
They end up feeling more magical and more like fey or spirits when they’re unique.

Nice job!
Thanks. Not much of a writefag, but I hope I can inspire one into writing something about them.
I might even make them an encounter in a future game
Okay folks, here's another one!

>Front doors of Helmscraig.
>Ancestral home to countless generations of dwarves.
>From a distance the place looks like a flaming anthill than a mountain fortress.
>Then again, dwarves always had funny ideas of what constitutes a “fortress”.
>Be warrior.
>Travelling with wizard and rogue.
>Came at the behest of some lord within this mountain.
>Apparently he's under the impression that someone is trying to kill him.
>I personally think that most dwarves can stay in their little holes and hammer away at their junk until it shines.
>But it's always hard to say 'no' to dwarven coin.
>Especially the kind of coin offered by a dwarven lord, even if it's a minor one.
>Been waiting at this doors for hours.
>They stand more than 30 feet tall with no guards post.
>Guess they must have a watch tower somewhere and they either figured that we're too few to start a problem or not dwarven enough to even matter.
>That or they think we're trying to sell them something.
>Just think of the fucking coin.
>Rogue is practicing his knife juggling.
>Wizard is trying to translate the runes on the door.
>I've got nothing better to do but listen.
“It says here that his son, Trundle Bonzeaxe, after killing several ogres managed to capture a living beholder. He then gilded the beholder alive in copper, had it mounted above his bed, and kept a stash of jewels in the beast's hollow eye-socket.”
“I forget, was Trundle the second or eighth son of Ogden Bronzeaxe?”
“He was the fifth actually. The second was Trunchuck, the eighth was Burdle.”
>Dwarves always has a funny idea of what constituted “important historical facts”.
>Dwarves have the best history.
>Better than those gods damn elves.
>Hear footsteps.
>Look up the road.
>A dwarven miner saunters along the path, an empty bag slung across his back.
>Either returning from selling something, or throwing something out.
>Tap wizard on the shoulder.
“Yes? I was at a very interesting part.”
>Point at the dwarf.
“Maybe you could ask him to let us in?”
“I guess I can do that.”
>Rogue pipes up.
“Tell him we're here to see Lord Dulsfur. Might get us in a little quicker.”
>Shrug my shoulders.
>Couldn't hurt.
>Wizard approaches the dwarf.
>Dwarves in this part of the world are rather isolated, so very few of them speak one of the common tongue.
>Wizard is the only one who bothered to learn how to speak Dwarven.
>Wizard explains things to the dwarf.
>Dwarf shrugs.
>Wizard speaks again.
>Dwarf nods his head.
>Dwarf approaches the door and knocks.
>Doors open just a crack.
>Dwarf steps into the opening.
>I start to move towards the doors.
“I wouldn't do that!”
>Look to the wizard.
“He said that he was going to tell the guards to let us in.”
“So we can go after that?”
>Rogue catches his knives and sheathes them.
“Why not?”
“Helmscraig is a massive undergound city. If every floor was laid out flat, the whole of it would be larger than the capital. He told me that we should only enter once we have a guide.”
“But we don't have a guide.”
“He said he'd send us one.”
“I don't know about that.”
>A look of concerned confusion spreads across the wizard's face.
“What's wrong.”
“I told him we were here to see Lord Dulsfur.”
“And he said that he would be sending a guide in Lord Dulsfur's employ.”
“That's great.”
“That's what I'm not sure about. The dwarf said we should wait for the 'Buldairn'a'.
“No, Buldairn'a.”
“Who's Buldairn'a?”
“It's not a 'who', it's an 'it'.”
>It's my turn to be visibly confused.
“In Dwarven tongue, Buldairn'a is not a proper name. Proper names in Dwarven are usually a touch longer than six syllables. Buldairn'a refers to a creature.”
“What kind of creature?”
“I'm not sure, but the closest I can translate it to would be 'the Pit Pony'.”
>Hear hoofbeats.
>Turn to face the door.
>A head pokes out of the opening.
>Pointed ears
>Fair hair.
>Gods damned elf?
>It steps out.
>Not an elf.
>Keeps walking.
>What in the 666 hell of Carceri am I looking at?
>Four cloven hooves and body like a deer
>Two heads, one on either end.
>It's face is covered in soot.
>It's wearing forged steel plates and has dwarven toggles hanging from its hair.
>Both sides turn to look at us.
>They start speaking at the same time.
>Can't understand a damn thing they're saying.
>Look to the wizard.
>He's nodding his head.
>Mouth wide open.
>They stop speaking and smile at us.
>We don't say a gods damned thing.
>Look to wizard.
>Still nodding his head.
>Give him a firm poke.
>Wizard give a startled jump then composes himself.
>Speaks to the creature.
>Creature nods.
>It turns to face us again.
“We apologize for the confusion.”
“We thought you all spoke Dwarven.”
“Our mistake.”
“A little error.”
“We were under the impression that you were capable travellers.”
“Lord Dulsfur did request accomplished adventurers to aid him.”
>Did this thing just insult us?
“Let's just hope you can hold your ale better than speak.”
“A mouth no good with words should be better put to drink.”
>Something in me says I should be insulted, but I'm too confused to properly react.
“When you're ready, we'll go in.”
“Any questions before we start?”
>Rogue lifts his hand.
>The thing points to him.
“What, in the great black shadows of the god dragon's treasure trove, are you supposed to be?”
>Both the heads laugh.
“It speaks!”
“And cleverly to!”
“A lovely phrase!”
“A splended turn!”
“Introductions are in order!”
“Allow me to state my name.”
“Though the dwarves have taken to calling us 'Buldairn'a'”
“A nickname we are quite fond of.”
“But you are not yet our friend.”
“We're not fond of you yet.”
“We would appreciate it if you would call us by our proper name.”
“As only expected in respectful societies.”
>The wizard raises his hand.
>The creature points.
“Wonderful to meet you Barren and Bairn-”
>The wizard sputters.
“Barren, Bairn?”
“Are you even listening.”
“You're supposed to be the smart one here?”
“He's still young.”
“Not enough experience.”
“Once more.”
>The wizard stands with his mouth agape.
>Guess I'll give it a try.
“Okay, Barren-Bairn.”
>They clap their hands.
“Maybe you should be the one in the robes?”
>They laugh again.
“I'm sorry, but you didn't really answer my friends question. What are you?”
>They look at each other then back to us.
“Isn't it obvious?”
“We're the chief guide of our Lord Dulsfur!”
“Hurry now!”
“We're going in!”
“The Lord awaits!”
“To the halls of Dulsfur!”
>They turn towards the door.
>They don't run.
>They do a sort of hopping gallop.
>With nothing better to do, we follow.
“So, Barren-Bairn, how did you wind up here.”
“It all started at an inn.”
“We were staying the night and decided to visit the tavern.”
“We decided to make a few extra coins from trilling the crowd.”
“We were entertainers of a sort in younger days.”
“We were performing one of our most popular feats.”
“Drinking eight tankards of ale each while alternatingly singing the dwarven classic 'The Hammer of Peltskol and the Maid of the Ninth Forge'.”
“Little did we know, a vassal of our Lord Dulsfur was in the audience that evening...”
Or that whatever created them created each one to fulfill a specific task only to abandon it when the task was completed.
What kind of lazy fuck makes over 200 creatures just to fulfill menial tasks
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Ok so let me get this straight
>Archwizard of great ultimate power creates a pushmi out of boredom
>Specifically made them facing opposite directions so they can argue about which way to go, as a joke
>They get their act together and actually start cooperating
>Get bored, kick it out of your bitchin' wizard tower, make another one
>Repeat this 199 more times, halfway through deciding to experiment with lower halves
>Suddenly kinda feel bad for the little things
>Enchant them so when they die, they're reborn somewhere safe
>Finally fuck off for good, never telling your creations where you went
>Now they wander the world, looking for you while also doing the same job you assigned them when they were first made
This is quite possibly the ultimate case of "wizards, no sense of right and wrong"
Maybe make their creator some sort of high fey. It would fit the somewhat fey like nature of the race and explain why someone would have both the power and alien mindset to create 200 or so fully functioning rencarnating sapient beings and then discard them on a whim.
That could work, yeah.
Not sure I'm overly fond of the reincarnating aspect. Almost seems to cheapen their value as unique creatures of extraordinary rarity.
I'm just not sure they'd do well if they didn't have at least some sort of insurance to keep their race going. Plus, it would make the genocide of their race literally impossible
I think the only way to play these is two have two players and each plays 1 half.
Another good story! I like that Pushmi-Pullyu are so rare in this collective setting that no one has heard of them and no one is prepared to meet one. They're wonders and curiosities whenever they go, and they accrue names, titles, legends and oftentimes employment from those they encounter. I'm also rather fond of the way that they always seem to view everyone else as the odd ones for their bafflement.

I could imagine that some Fey Lord or Lady, curious about the mortal races and their many interests, decided on a whim to create a race of craftsfolk to see what all the fuss was about. Of course, being Fey, they didn't want to just create plain old normal folk, and got a little bit creative when putting them together. Also being Fey, once they felt they'd learned enough about the craft or occupation for which they'd been created, they let them loose upon the mortal world and created a new one to explore their latest curiosity.

I sort of feel the same way about not making them reincarnate, though I do see the utility of it if there are only a finite number of Pushmi-Pullyu in the world.
It would definitely be a fun challenge.
It could explain why they seem to eager to please and be helpful.
>Nothing if not obliging, the strange creature let the subject drop and spent the rest of their short rest chatting to themselves, keeping watch, and annotating their maps as seemed to be their wont.

>When introductions had been made at the outset of their journey, they had called themselves “Perri-Pirri the Explorers,” a title they apparently took quite seriously given how highly their services had been recommended.

>Watching his guides as he ate, Derrel considered the long road ahead of him and what he hoped and feared he’d find at its end, found speaking once again to be better than entertaining his doubts.

>”You call yourselves explorers. You carry maps and charts with you. How far have you traveled?”

>”Do you see Piri? He does want to talk after all.”

>The one called Perri said as she glanced over to their charge and smiled that soft smirk of a smile, arching one curious brow.

>”I do see, Perri. He does want to talk after all. But, please don’t pester overmuch.”

>The one called Pirri replied, frowning softly back at her sister as she carefully rolled their map up and put it in its case.

>”I won’t pester overmuch. To answer your question, We have traveled very far indeed.”

>”Indeed, we have traveled very far. East to the Glistering Sea, North to the Starfall Mountains, West to the Affira Ocean and South to the Stony Wastes.”

>”East, North, West, South. We have been most everywhere on this continent.”

>”On this continent we have been most everywhere, yes.”

>The creature’s sing-song manner of speaking was somewhat bewildering and tiresome to the man, but he nodded, seeming pleased that their answer affirmed what he’d been told of their exploits.

>”Well. I’m not going nearly as far as that. Not this time.”

>He said, eyeing the pair as he stood with a grunt, shoving the leftovers of his meal back into his rucksack as the creature completes its own packing, standing back up on its hooves.
These things really do show the difference between CAN and SHOULD where magic is concerned. At least they’re friendly.
>Rotello-Rotallo the Alchemist
>Mira-Mara the Merchant
>Bova-Bavo the Gambler
>Yulli-Yillu the Dancer
>Yulli-Yillu the Dancer
I'd pay good money to even see how they'd dance
There’d be lots of fancy legwork, I’d imagine, and twirling moves. I'm imagining a dance that’s like something you’d see in India.
>As the sun goes down, fairgoers are let into the dusky tent that had been set up on the far edge of the field, in which Yulli-Yillu the Dancer would be performing.

>They sit on cushions arranged in a semi/circle on the ground, before a curved curtain depicting the dusk or maybe the dawn, spangled with stars.

>Once all have been seated, the curtain opens to reveal a young centaur woman, lithe and willowy, laid down and dressed in a flowing gown of crimson and gold.

>As the music of unseen players rises, so does she, spreading her arms wide so as to mimic the rising of the sun and the spreading of the light across the land.

>She dances, her movements imitating the growing of wheat and the frolicking of creatures through the fields and the prosperous work of the peasant folk.

>She starts to turn, almost imperceptibly at first, her movements becoming slower and sleepier as she lowers her front half to a crouch while raising her back half.

>As her back half swings into view, a second woman is revealed, causing the crowd let’s out a quiet gasp of astonishment as the dance of day turns to one of night.

>This second woman, the “centaur’s” other half, is dressed in a flowing gown of her own in navy and silver, and her dance is no less beautiful than her sister’s.

>She moves as if she were the moon sailing through the clouds and spirits flitting through the darkness and stars raining down from the heavens above.

>As she lowers herself again in at the coming of the dawn her sister, the sun, rises and the cycle begins again, and eventually the two are dancing as one.

>Around and around they turn and twirl, day to night, night to day, separate and unique in their differences but connected most intimately in a never ending dance.

>When the pit does finally stop, the crowd is silent for a long moment before applauding, enchanted by the performance they’d watched and the performers both.
Not bad...
I’ll give the thread a bump in the hopes for an after-work influx of writing or discussion.

Something to think on, is that it seems that Pushmi-Pullyu are always traveling and never permanently settle down in any one place. While I don’t think that this was something we decided on, I do like the idea that Pushkin-Pullyu are nomadic by nature and are somewhat compelled to wander.
Writefag here. Thanks dude. I'm going to try to pump out a few more pieces on some of the characters that have been already made. Noteably:
The fighters with the cleric (>>62977836, >>62985835)
The bards (>>62977671)
The pit pony (>>62993190)

I'm hoping to develop them to a point where I might actually have them meet.

Good call on the bump.
I’ll look forward to seeing what you come up with, especially since we haven’t seen any Pushmi-Pullyu interact with members of their own race yet.
Having the Pushkin-Pullyus be nomadic wanderers makes sense, with all the brainstorming we’ve done on their rarity, fae natures and multiple choice pasts. It makes meeting them a very lucky encounter and makes meetings between Pushmi-Pullyus extraordinarily special.
>Two pushmis meet
>It's an awkward family reunion
I’m very curious about this, because I can imagine all Pushkin-Pullyus knowing and remembering each other even if they haven’t seen each other in a long time or have never seemingly met at all .
Pushmi. Damned autocorrect.
Pushkin could be what people call their race in general. Like, "the pushkin are a nice bunch, if a little odd."
They may have a few names and more than a few rumors circulating about them, depending on how well-known they are around the world.
>yuppie pushmis working at cafes
Kinda cute
You know there’s definitely a Pushmi-Pullyu in our setting that pulls around a food cart.
>Pretentious vegan laughing in stereo.
Kill me now

>sweaty pushmi-pullyu in a classic diner, alternating it's sides contantly between taking/serving orders at the counter and working the grill
Take my god damn working man's dollars
>Party is weary after a long and arduous trek across country.

>Town is still a day’s journey away and all you have is trail rations.

>You catch a wonderful smell on the breeze and make for it.

>Around the next bend someone has set up a traveling food cart.

>It seems to be run by some bizarre, two-headed horse person.

>They both wave you over.
>>Pretentious vegan laughing in stereo.
that's kinda hot
Pushmis sound like a great option for when you want your PCs to come across a strange or mysterious merchant on the road that has what they need. These threads have really gotten me wanting to have a couple in a setting as NPCs or a PC.
I'm not terribly sure I should continue with this. The writing's gone fine enough, but it feels a bit aimless so if any of you have any I look forward to see opinions or perhaps requests, I'd like to hear them. I'm also eagerly awaiting what our other writer has in store.
I love the feylike pushmis that've been in all of the writefagging so far, but they seem like they're more optimized for NPCs.
I'd writefag myself for a different interpretation (or even to finish fleshing out that stat block), but I've been short on time lately, so I couldn't make guarantees as to when I'd post anything.
The fey angle as been a pretty fun one that really seems to work well fora species that doesn't make a whole lot of sense by design. What sort of interpretation are you thinking on? Even if you don;t get the chance to do much writing in this thread, it would still be good to hear about another way to present these creatures.
In your own time dude. This won't be the last thread.
True enough. I was just curious to hear his ideas, seeing as how we had some time. I definitely don't want to rush anyone.
Try something for >>62992465
>Hallu-Halla the Huntresses

Okay. I'll see what I can do.
Nice, thanks
WE'll have to make sure that this thread gets archived in its time, like the last.
I'll archive it when we reach 300
Keeping it alive.
At least bump with some content, like names & stuff
I'd also agree that Pushmi-Pullyus is probably a race optimized for NPC duties. I would only trust a player to take on the role of one if they had proved themselves capable of handling the roleplaying aspect and shown that they would not abuse any mechanical benefit.

Honestly, they would probably make some really killer NPCs in just the right game. I could image running an evil campaign where the players are chasing after one in the hopes of either killing it for rare spell components or trying to capture one alive at the request of some wealthy dick of a lord.
Where to these threads get archived to?

I ask because I haven't seen them on notatrueending.
It might just be me showing off how much of an oldfag I am, but I'm surprised no one has come up with the idea of Crazy Hassan popping up to sell "Two-headed camels" to an enterprising group of adventurers.
Still have to work on the huntress piece. Sudden work has kept me, but I will have something written.
I have to imagine that Pushmi-Pullyu are more inherently magical than most of your standard fantasy races, given how nonsensical their physiology is. They’d probably be full of all manner of strange and potent spell components for any unscrupulous enough to kill for them.
I remember Crazy Hassan, and could imagine Mira-Mara the Merchant accompanying him, assisting him in his camel sales as he jokingly tries to sell her.
What drawfag is this?
>Samira should have turned back when she’d lost her quarry’s trail, but she’d always been a headstrong girl and she was unwilling to return to her village without the great bear’s paw.

>After all the boasting she’d done at the tavern the night before, she couldn’t face the jokes and jeers that would greet her if she came back empty handed and beaten.

>Trudging through the snow, belly empty but for the fire burning there, Samira glared sullenly up at the sky and the falling flakes that had obscured her prey’s tracks from her.

>She had been so sure she’d slay the problem beast, so cocky and ready to prove herself to the other hunters, that this change in fortune had greatly soured her thoughts.

>Quietly cursing the weather and her own bad luck, she cast her gaze about the silent woodland in search of someplace she could take shelter for a time, build a fire and cook one of the rabbits she had managed to catch.

>Spying a small stand of firs amidst the expanse of barren wintertime trees, Samira made for the promise of a few hours’ rest, stewing in her mind all the things her friends would say of her if she failed.

>Distracted as she was, the young woman approached the fir grove incautiously, booted feet crunching through the ice-crusted drifts, thought the dangers of the hunt lost amidst her own ruminationsas she pushed her way in through the evergreen boughs.

>Her intrusion was greeted by a grunting that turned into a bellowing roar as she let out her own shout of fearful surprise, human and giant bear both caught off-guard by the other.

>Unluckily for Samira the bear was faster to recover, rearing back on its hind legs and lunging for her with fangs and claws bared, knocking her to the ground before she had the chance to raise her bow and knock an arrow.
>Raked by those large claws, her layered clothes and light armor spared her a goring but did less good for the bite that accompanied it as the beast’s jaws clamped down on her shoulder, it’s teeth puncturing her flesh.

>Hollering in pain, the young woman groped one-handedly for her dagger and stabbed at it with as much strength as she could manage while trying to keep the full weight of the great ursa from crushing her with the other arm.

>Pinned and hurt though she was, Samira’s aim was true enough and her blade found its mark, plunging into the bear’s neck and producing a gout of crimson and a bellow of pain from the creature as it recoiled from the strike.

>Grievously wounded but not wounded so grievously to take it down, the bear reared back again, raising its claws to strike a killing blow on its foe, red running in rivulets down through its fur and mixing with her own blood in the snow around them.

>Time seemed to slow and those terrible talons hung in the air above the young hunter, poised to end her life, before two arrows appeared as if by magic, piercing the bear’s eye and heart at the very same instant and killing the beast before it could land its attack.

>”An arrow to the heart to kill the beast.”

>Said a gruff female voice.

>”An arrow to the eye to kill it.”

>Replied a voice of equal gruffness and femininity.

>”To pierce the heart of such a beast is a feat of strength.”

>Observed the first.

>”But to pierce such a beast’s eye is a feat of accuracy.”

>Countered the second.

>Head swimming as the mighty animal slumped atop her, Samira fought her growing wooziness, struggling weakly against its weight to catch a glimpse of her rescuers before she slipped into a fitful unconsciousness.
>Samira awoke to a crackling fire and a stinging, warm stiffness in her should that she could not place before memory of the earlier attack flooded her mind, filling her with a shame and frustration the likes of which she’d never felt before.

>”Ah, she is awake.”

>That first voice said, its husky timber sounding off from somewhere to the woman’s right, followed immediately thereafter by an affirmation from the second.

>”She has awoken, yes.”

>Groaning through gritted teeth, the young woman reached for her shoulder and finding her bite-wound bound and dressed, looked toward the source of the voices she heard, seeking again sight of her saviors.

>Despite mire than a passing familiarity with both mundane and magical animals, what Samira saw bewildered her and stilled her tongue as she tried to make sense of the creature that sat calmly beside the fire.

>It was in some ways like a centaur and in someways not, with two female figures sprouting from either end of the large, shaggy, wolf-like body in the middle in a way that struck the woman’s foggy mind as almost funny in its absurdity.

>The creature’s womanly torsos looked as strong and rugged as her lupine body, clad in leather armor and animal pelts not unlike those that the human wore herself, well-worn and well-mended from years of use.

>”You nearly died, you know.”

>Said one, glancing languidly at Samira over her shoulder as she butchered the bear that had nearly killed her, looking scarcely older than her despite their grey hair, although appearances were often deceiving when it came to fae beings.

>”You know you nearly died.”

>Agreed the other, roasting some of the meat they’d already harvested over the fire that she tended, favoring the wounded woman with a more pointed look than her other half.
>”The wound you inflicted would have killed the bear, in time, but not before it killed you.”

>”It would have killed you before the wound you inflicted killed it, if we hadn’t come along and shot it.

>The one cleaning their kill echoed, passing strips of bear meat backward to her other half to dry smoke over the fire, sounding a bit less concerned for the young hunter’s safety than the other did.

>“But we did come along and we did shoot it, and you live, having learned a valuable lesson on vigilance I wager.”

>The butcher let out a short laugh, sharing a drole look with it’s other half and replying in a tone of voice that expressed a fair bit of incredulity.

>”And I wager she hasn’t learned her lesson, but she lives all the same. We came along and shot her bear for her.”

>Baffled by everything she saw and heard, Samira slowly and painfully pushed herself up into a seated position by the fire, trying to keep her injured shoulder still as she inspected the pungent bandages the creature had applied.

>”Were we Halli-Hilla the Healers we would have mended your wounds with magic.”

>The cook remarked, pausing in her task to regard the confused human woman with a level, appraising gaze before the other spoke as well, following the odd back-and-forth rhythm they’d established since the hunter awoke.

>”But we are Hallu-Halla the Huntresses, so bandages and salves will have to do.”

>“They will do well enough.”

>Said the other, nodding as she reached out toward Samira, offering the suddenly famished woman a skewer of fresh-roasted bear as her other half continued harvesting the great beast’s meat, commenting as she worked.

>”They should do well enough.”

>”They will do well enough.”

>The cook reaffirmed as the young hunter took the sustenance, giving her snider side a mild warning look before she turned her gaze again to Samira, her expression seeming both curious and disappointed as she spoke again.
>”So. We have offered you aid and food and have told you who we are. Please. Tell us who you are, and why it was that you were so reckless.”

And done, I think, for now at least. Hope it was worth the wait. Also, are we not bumping anymore or is my thread view just messed up?
That was great, thanks for sharing
Thanks! I feel like it came out a lot better than my other attempt because I had a more concrete goal in mind for the story.
Maybe you can continue with this one, too.
perhaps with some romance
I probably won’t have time until later tonight after work but I might be able to continue, and I would not be opposed to suggestions.
Pretty good. I’d read more if you wrote more.
Maybe continue with Hallu-Halla taking care of Samira, Hallu growing fond of the girl
I had considered taking them back to Samira’s village where the Pushmi-Pullyu trains the girl in hunting skills and self-confidence.
That works, too
Which one’s Hallu and which one’s Halla? What makes them different?
Hallu is probably the one who was cooking the bear meat while Halla cut up said meat. From the story, Hallu seems to be nicer, or at least, more openly caring about others.
Makes me curious about how similar and how different the two halves of a Pushmi can be. It seems like they must resemble siblings at least if not identical twins, and have complimentary personalities if not a single shared personalities expressed in different ways.
They'd definitely be almost like a single entity, but with slight differences, enough that you can tell one head apart from another.
While I didn’t specifically choose one name or the other for either of them while I was writing, I’m onboard with the idea that Hallu is the cook and Halla is the butcher in that story.

In regards to how the two are different, in my mind Hallu is more supportive while Halla is more aloof. Hallu would set a good example and teach Samira with patience and understanding, while Halla would let Samira make her own mistakes and the offer smart-aleccy commentary to show her how she messed up.

I think Pushmi-Pullyu are in a magical state where they are more than just siblings or twins, but where they do have their own personalities and wants even if the differences between those personalities and wants are very minor.
>Erri-Erro the Herbologists
>Bende-Bunde the Shepherds
>Jalila-Jolila the Painters
>Cidt-Cadt the Tinkerers
My day’s almost over, so I should be able to resume writing soon. Any more Pushmi-Pullyu ideas are welcome as well while we wait on writers.
>Rinta-Rinti the Teamakers
>Kollhun-Kullhun the Sailors
>Kecca-Kecci the Couriers
>Goh-Ghen the Woodsmen
>>Kollhun-Kullhun the Sailors
I'd definitely like to see how they'd sail
Maybe I can write something short about them after continuing with the Huntresses. The idea of a Pushmi-Pullyu courier is also pretty appealing.
I've been thinking about the armour setup for a pushmi-pullyu. I realize that it may heavily be based on situation and context where the armour may be needed, but i still can't help but wonder.

Say, if one were to march into war, would the front one be armed in full plate with a sword and shield while the rear one would be armed only in breast, a helm, and a bow? Or should both of them be fully clad?

In game, if a player would to be playing one of these things, would they be expected to purchase two sets of armour? That seems pretty reasonable.
Considering how in one ADnD setting minotaurs were sailors, and that in one Dr. Dolittle book he traveled by boat with his pushmi-pullyu in the crow's nest, they'd fair probably well.
On one hand, it would make sense realistically to armor both halves of this thing equally because both halves are more ore less equally in danger in a battle scenario.

On the other though, armoring the two halves differently could allow for some potentially neat stylistic and tactical decisions, especially if two players are playing one of these creatures.

Either way, seeing one of these things shopping for armor that fits them sounds like a pretty fun scene in and of itself.
I think part of the fae-like charm of the Pushmi-Pullyu is how unsuited they seem to many of the occupations at which they apparently excel.
Maybe it's some weird fey magic that makes them so skilled
>Makes me curious about how similar and how different the two halves of a Pushmi can be
>Jundi-Bendo the conflicted
An unfortunate pair who mainly share the trait of never being able to make up their mind.
That or they're such a novel creature that we haven't really thought of a job they would be particularly bad at...besides fighting goblins...because that potentially could have ended badly.
Ya know, they probably wouldn't make for the greatest rogues.
Pushmi-Pullyu Rogue definitely sounds like a comedic PC idea if I ever heard one.

>"We are quite inconspicuous, are we not?"
>"So very inconspicuous and sneaky."
>"We are so sneaky, aren't we."

Though, like >>63027067 suggests, it could be part of their fey nature to be skilled in things that they aren't, which could make the concept even better.
They're also each uncommonly eloquent and possessing a philosophical bent, and so often end up embroiling those around them in their debates like a pair of horsey Diogenes or a conjoined Statler and Waldorf.

I rather love this idea. A young Pushmi gets it into their heads to become rogues and actually manage to do it as their fae nature makes them uncommonly good at whatever they put their minds to. I'd like to take the statblock that was made for them in the last thread and try to roll one up.
Oh god, we need to design them a magical item that allows them to use their Wisdom or Charisma modifier in place of their Dexterity modifier when making a Stealth check so long as they keep talking about how sneaky they are.
Hell, just make "Fae Nature" a racial trait or a feat in and of itself that allows them to substitute the those stats as needed.

>"We have to be especially sneaky, Ralee."
>"We certainly do Rilee, especially sneaky."
>"Uncommonly sneaky."
>"So incredibly sneaky."
>Ralee-Rilee the Sneakthieves

>Shorter and scrawnier then most Pushmis
>Goat-like lower body made for climbing
>Somehow supernaturally inconspicuous
>Impish and impulsive by nature
>Fancies themselves master thieves
>Twin Amulets of Loquacious Confidence
Allows the wearers to use their charisma stat rather than their dexterity stat for stealth checks so long as they exchange remarks on their stealthiness at least once for each check attempted.

And of course, given that they're a Pushmi-Pullyu, they will probably have to make each stealth check twice.
Alright folks, got another one here! It's another long one, but I'm quite happy with how it turned out.

>Early morning, just outside the village
>Be Cleric
>Waiting for my...
>Whatever it is to join me.
>Nursing a slight hang over.
>Spent the previous evening being forced to drink by one head while the other belted out song requests from the other people in the tavern.
>I silently beg the Lord of Light to delay sunrise by just a a few more minutes, just to save my headache.
>Hear hoofbeats.
>Look towards the village.
>It's here.
>The head facing me gives a wave.
>Wave back.
>It picks up the pace, stopping beside me.
>Both heads turn to face me.
“I hope we weren't too hard on you last night.”
“We don't often get to enjoy ourselves.”
>Could have fooled me.
“I'll be fine.
“Good to hear.”
“Before we get to far, we must apologize.”
“We're so very sorry.”
“We neglected to introduce ourselves last night.”
“We don't even know your name.”
“We will start. I'm Torae.”
>Their names sound a little too similar.
>Probably makes it easier if I start speaking to the wrong head.
>Better just say both names all the time.
“It's an honour to meet you Torae-Tori. My official title is: Brother Ivor Jaquline Demorian, Third of the Fifth Order of the Sactuary of His Guiding Light. But you may call me Ivor.
“A pleasure Ivor.”
“Ivor, quite nice.”
“Are you ready?”
“Well prepared?”
>I still haven't overcome the feeling that this is all some sort of dream or part of some overly elaborate trick arranged by some bored archmage.
“By the Lord of Light, I hope so.”
>They laugh.
>The closer one slaps me on the back.
>I think that one was Tori
>They march into the trees.
>Whisper to myself.
“By the Lord of Light, I certainly do hope so.”
>I follow.
>Been making our way through the trees for the past five hours.
>Still haven't reached the Bugbear encampment.
>Been chatting with the Torae in the rear while Tori takes the lead.
“-and that's basically how I became an acolyte.”
“Wonderful; good story.”
>Speaking to only one of them is a touch strange.
>It's almost as though she's trying to speak for both of them.
>She almost repeats herself upon occasion.
>As if she's trying to fill in the portions of the conversation that Tori would be providing if she wasn't busy.
>Still, best conversation partner I've had in years.
>Folks brought up in churches and cloisters aren't exactly well known for their breadth of conversation topics.
“You've had me talking about myself for the past two hours, would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”
“Not at all; nothing to mind. Go ahead; ask away.”
“Why are you carrying only one sword? Wouldn't it be best if both of you were armed?”
“We used to carry both a sword and a bow; the bow was dropped when she was knocked out. I didn't have time to search for it; I was too busy fighting off the few that decided to stick around. Didn't have time to find a new one in the village; their blacksmith isn't exactly setup for making weaponry.”
“Oh, that's unfortunate. If that's the case, then why is she carrying the sword?”
“It's her turn; we like to share.”
I guess that makes sense. What do you plan to do now?”
“We'll come upon the encampment soon enough; we'll either find the bow or I'll take a weapon from one of the dead.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“A plan it is; and a good one to have.”
>A moment of silence.
>I want to ask more, but I'm afraid of getting too personal.
“You look like you're worries; a question?”
>I was never good at hiding things.
“I'd hate to bother you.”
“No bother; we appreciate you.”
“I mean, I have a question but would hate to offend.”
“Questions are welcome; ask away.”
“Okay. I'm sorry for asking this, but what are you?”
“We are Torae-Tori; we journey and battle those who would be our foes.”
“No, not that.”
“Not what; not us?”
“No-I mean... Okay... I'm a human.”
“Yes; of course.”
“Yes. I am a human. What are you?”
“Oh; we see! We didn't understand; we aren't usually asked.”
>I find that hard to believe.
“We are Pushmi-Pullyu.”
>Never heard of that one before.
“Where are you from?
“We don't know; we don't care.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“We simply are; we don't need to know.”
“You weren't told by your parents.”
>Torae looks at me slightly bemused.
“Why would we ask; why would it matter?
>I don't know how to respond to that.
>I've never really thought of it myself.
>The Lord of Light has given my life purpose, but does is that really affected by the fact I was born in the capital?
“Well, what were your parents like?”
“No 'parents'; only 'parent'.”
>It's going to take me a while to wrap my head around that one.
“Okay. What were they like?”
>Torae closes her eyes and concentrates.
>Suddenly, tori stops.
>She's quiet.
>Waves her hand to me, wanting me to step ahead.
>I move forward.
>Tori points through the trees to a clearing.
>Empty lean-tos
>A cold fire pit.
>Several dead bodies.
>Animal bones strewn all over the place.
“This the place?”
>Tori whispers to me.
“We go in quiet. Watch for traps”
>I nod.
>I follow.
>The camp has been cleared.
>Anything of value has already been removed.
>No traps, guess they left in too much of a hurry.
>Torae-Tori found their bow.
>It had snapped at one end.
>They weren't bothered about it. They managed to find a half decent short sword underneath one of the dead bugbears.
>They seem happy enough with the find.
“It looks like they've moved on.”
“Can't blame them.”
“We would to.”
“Someone finding their secret camp.”
“Possibly bringing others to ensure its destruction.”
“They had to abandon it.”
“Probably not gone.”
“Went deeper.”
“Will come back.”
>The way they said that tells me that they might have a plan.
>And I'm not going to like it.
>I see them lean a few of the dead bugbears, pulling things from the bodies.
>I busy myself trying to see if they left any trace that would indicate which direction they were heading.
“Heads up!”
>Turn around.
>Get hit by what feels like a weighted belt.
“Sorry, did that hurt?
“We thought you would catch it.”
>Look down.
>They threw a bandoleer at me, containing several daggers daggers and knives of different shapes.
“You should carry it.”
“Might come in handy.”
>I'm not exactly thrilled by the idea.
“I think you'd be better with these.”
“We aren't exactly the best as getting close enough to use them.”
“Hooves aren't exactly great for stealth.”
>Point taken.
>I don't like it, but I'd hate to offend them.
>Reach down, pick up the bandoleer, sling it around a shoulder.
“Are you any good at tracking?”
“Can you find their trail?”
>There are some things the Lord of Light cannot help me with.
“Sorry, I'm not exactly the guy to ask in this situation.”
>They take a quick look around the clearing once more.
“There's no reason for us to stay here then.”
“If you can't find a trail we won't do much better.”
“Let's head back to the village.”
“Maybe someone else will be waiting there who can help us.”
>Sound like a decent enough plan.
>We start on our way back through the trees.
>Not exactly the most exciting adventure so far.
>But quite possibly the most interesting.
>Middle of the forest.
>Stopped to take a rest.
>I'm seated on a fallen tree, my pack open beside me.
>They're kneeled on the forest floor.
“... So, not to sound like the bad guy, I wound up having to pay the merchant 500 gold to not only take the gnome's daughter back to the town, but also to ensure that he wouldn't simply take her in as a slave.”
“How did you know you could trust him?”
“Merchant's aren't exactly the most trustworthy sorts.”
>They did it again.
“I trusted his desire for my money.”
“Seems like a lot to pay.”
“Must have been quite the expense.”
>They got me talking about myself.
“The Lord of Light provides everything I need to fulfill my mission.”
“Solom sounds like quite the generous god.”
“A very giving fellow, your Lord of Light.”
>It's usually not polite to talk about religion.
>But I can't help but be curious, considering my company.
“Might I ask something personal once again?”
“As we said, you are welcome to ask.”
“You may ask, but I might not answer.”
>At least I don't have to feel bad about their openness.
“So do you follow any of the gods? Are you a member of an order?”
>They gaze at me blankly.
>Almost as though they are unsure about the meaning of the words I just said.
“Do we have to follow a god?”
“Is that really necessary?”
>Not exactly the answer I was hoping for.
“I guess you don't have to follow a god, but you should consider it.”
“How so?”
“Well, the gods look favourably upon those who give them worship. They may grant you their favour in your endeavours, grant you their blessings, and may reward your devotion with a place by their side in the great hereafter.”
>They look to each other.
>A moment of silence passes.
>I don't know what to do in this situation.
>I usually spend my silences either praying or trying to hide from things that would kill me.
>They look back to me.
“We see.”
>Well, that was lacklustre.”
“So, do you think you would ever worship a god?”
“We don't know.”
“How does one find a god to worship?”
>It's almost like trying to explain religion to a child.
>Except children are usually more awestruck.
“Well, there are many gods, and each of them appeals to different sorts of people. Most worship the god of their parents, or they join an order to try and gain the favour of a god who's ideals align with their own.”
“Why did you choose Solom?”
“What appeal does the Lord of Light have?”
>They did it again, but considering the context of the conversation it might be helpful to provide an example.
“I have devoted myself to the Lord of Light because he is the god of my homeland. I was born and raised in a small town that wasn't too far from the border of a neighbouring kingdom. The kingdoms were always battling over land rights, so the borders changed frequently. My town only knew which kingdom we belonged to every season when a tax collector would arrive or when an army would march by. Despite all this, the presence of Solom was a constant in our town. The church became a cornerstone of my family, giving comfort and guidance when we feared for the worst. When I came of age, I found purpose in the church and decided to show my thanks to Solom by devoting my life to his tenets.”
“A good reason.”
“A good story.”
>Now to put this conversation back on track.
“So if you were to choose a god, what kind of god would you like to follow.”
>They look to each other once again.
>I don't have to wait as long to receive a response.
“Our creator.”
“The one who made us.”
>I don't know how to follow that.
>I can't respond.
>They seem content to sit out the rest of our break in silence.
>Nightfall has come.
>We are still trying to passing through the forest.
>Getting close to the village.
>The conversation waned after our little chat about religion became a little too heavy.
>They seemed content to talk to each other.
>Didn't know if this was their way of keeping silence, or just refusing to talk to me.
>Don't blame them.
>I probably touched upon a tender subject.
>I'm already used to being in silence with others around.
>Though it's not exactly quiet.
>Hear some commotion in the distance.
>A celebration? Town festival?
>Squint my eyes, and look through the trees towards the village.
>Catch a bit of an orange glow in the distance.
>Hear screaming.
“Oh no!”
“We were wrong!”
>Torae-Tori leap away through the trees.
>I can't catch up to them.
>Have to yell.
“What's going on?”
“The bugbears didn't go deeper into the forest!”
“They followed us here last night!”
“They most likely reconvened with others!”
“They formed a raiding party!”
“Let's hope we're not too late!”
“To battle!”
>She bounds around the trees and over the brush and roots.
>She'll be in the thick of a fight long before I can catch up.
>I better be ready to assist.
“The Lord of Light shows me the path.”
>A little prayer never hurt in situations like this.
>I'd like to say that it was an overwhelming success.
>I'd like to say that we slaughtered the bugbears and saved the village with minimal losses.
>I'd like to say that the villagers were helpful in the fight and were supportive of our efforts.
>I'd like to say a lot of things.
>The Lord of Light illuminates my mind with the truth that is in my heart and mind, casting out the darkness that would bring me to lie.
>Half of the village has been burned.
>Including three of the five storehouses, the inn, and the smithy.
>Numerous deaths.
>Corpses in the only well.
>Livestock butchered.
>Anyone still alive is either busy mourning their dead, or packing the little they do have in preparation for a journey to someplace a little safer.
>Anyone who tried to help us in the fight was cut down too quickly for their efforts to matter.
>Anyone who ran from the fight simply prolonged their deaths by seconds.
>We killed the bugbears.
>They won't be coming back.
>I hope they won't come back.
>Lord of Light, please ensure they won't come back.
>Lost all the daggers that were given to me.
>Most of them were lost in bugbears
>I tried to heal as many as I could.
>Apparently I didn't do enough.
>No one says thanks.
>The survivors just give knowing glances and move on with trying to figure out what to do with the little bits of their lives that they have left.
>I situate myself in front of a smouldering house.
>Pray for those who once lived there.
>The Lord of Light shows the path to those freed from their suffering.
>Hear two voices.
>They're arguing.
>Finish my prayer.
>Walk towards the heated exchange.
>This is not the time for people to start fighting one-another.
>Voices come from a small field on the edge of the village.
>Torae-Tori is kneeling in the charred remains of a field.
>Her heads aren't facing one another.
>They're yelling.
“We should have done the thing!”
“We didn't have time to do the thing!”
“We could have tried!”
“And what good would that have done?”
“The Bugbear would have died that much quicker!”
“It would not have died!”
“It would have!”
“At best we could have stunned it!”
“It would have given us time!”
“For what? For it to recover and kill again?”
“The thing would not have helped!”
“You don't know that!”
“It would not have helped!”
“Shut up!”
“You just don't want to accept it.”
“I said shut up!”
“We failed!
“Shut up!”
“We were impatient.”
“Shut up!”
“We didn't think things through.”
“Shut up!”
“And we were not enough to save them.”
>They both turn to face me.
>Beneath the dirt and blood, their faces are red. Their cheeks are stained with thin trails of tears.
>Again, I'm at a loss for what to do.
>I don't exactly have the best track record with situations involving crying women.
>Especially when there's two of them.
>Especially when both of them are attached end-to-end.
>But I do have some experience dealing with arguments among those who work together.
>Maybe that applies here?
“I know that saying this will probably touch upon a area that you aren't quite comfortable with, but I'm going speak nonetheless. I am a disciple of Solom, and he has found it fit to have me act as his hand in this world. My god has blessed me with but a portion of his power and wisdom, but he knows that I am nothing but a man. In all his infinite wisdom and ability, he has placed his trust in mortals. From the spark that was his first flame, until the darkened day when it might fade, the Lord of Light has placed his lot with mortal creatures. Weak, grasping, foolish, insufferable, selfish, obnoxious, cowering, senseless, clumsy, and flawed beings. The Lord of Light does this with full knowledge that we will fail. He gives us his might and guidance, knowing full and well that the day will come when we might fall upon our swords and bring disgrace to his name. It has happened countless times before and will happen countless times again. Trust me, I know; there are great tomes to be found in the churches of every god, listing the follies and failings of their followers. The Lord of Light knows we will let him down, so why does he grant us his blessings? Why does his give us so much when he knows we may prove ourselves undeserving?”
>I kneel down beside them.
>I place my hands upon their shoulders.
>I stare at the ground at my feet.
>It would be too difficult to tray and look them both in the eye at the same time.
“Because all he asks us to do with his power is the best we can. That is all he asks; that we accept his gifts and do with them the most we can do to bring his light into this world. Yes, this fight was not the grand victory that we may have hoped for.”
>Stand up.
>Look to the sun.
“But the Lord of Light has seen my efforts, and he would let me know if I had erred in any way.”
>Look back down to Torae-Tori.
“And I'm sure he'd let me know if he was displeased in my choice of partners.”
>The Pushmi-Pullyu looks back up to me.
“That was a lovely speech.”
“You're quite the delightful talker.”
“You're sure you're in the right career?”
“You might consider trading your mace for a pulpit?”
>The Lord of Light warms me.
>Later that day.
>Walking down the road towards another town.
>Following some of the villagers who did not have horses to hitch to their carts.
>Torae-Tori walks beside me.
“Thanks for the Daggers.”
>Felt like a good thing to say.
“You're welcome.”
“We hope they were useful.”
>That almost sounded pleased.
“So where are you going now?”
“Returning to your church?”
>They've cleaned themselves up.
>They're in much better condition.
“I hear that the next town has a guildhall. I'm going to make use of their courier service to send a message back to my brothers. Maybe while I'm there I'll see if there's any other places where I might lend my assistance. I might possibly end up joining with some other folks on their travels.”
>Another moment of silence.
>This is becoming an all too common thing between us.
“That's interesting.”
“We were thinking of doing something similar.”
“We need to get ourselves involved in something.”
>Sounds like she's feeling a better.
“As for joining with others.”
“That's always been a bit of a hassle.”
“Would you mind if we joined with you?”
“Care to join in association?”
“We already know each other so well.”
“Would save on a bit of the hassel.”
>Look up to the end that's beside me.
>Look over my shoulder to the end behind me.
>Both are staring at me.
>Talk about pressure.
“I don't see why not.”
>They start grinning like madmen.
“We're thinking this is the start of a grand partnership.”
“To think of the adventure's we'll have!”
“Do you know how far it is to the next town?”
“We hope we won't have to camp along the road.”
“We're in need of a nice, hot bath.”
“We could go for a decent meal and a strong drink.”
“How would you like to pass the time?”
“We're in the mood for a song. Would you mind if we sang?”
>The Lord of Light shows me my path.
>I can only trust that the Lord of Light knows what he's doing.
I have to say that yours is a damned good tale! It's well written and well paced, and has done a great job incorporating so many of the things we've discussed in the past two threads like hinting at the origins of the Pushmi-Pullyu and how often they agree and disagree with each other. The way you write Torae-Tori's dialogue continues to impress with its amusingly alien cadence and sincerity, and the character of Ivor feels believable and a welcome addition to the "trio."

Thanks for your hard work! It's been well worth the wait.
Very good read!
Still working on something for Hallu-Halla and Samira involving a least a suggestion of romance. Going is slow though due to having real work to do.

Jobs. Damnable things.

Will also try, I think, to write something up for a Pushmi-Pullyu rogue if I can spare the time. The idea really amuses me.
>Phi-Lhi the Poets
>Domak-Demok the Gladiator
>Solla-Sallo the Soothsayer
>Andos-Sondas the Writer
It was mentioned earlier with regards to the Pushmis’ absent Creator that they all seem to be wandering the wide world, making use of their particular talents and searching for something or someone. I really like that, as it gives the race a kind of poignancy and pathos that compliments the silliness of their physiology.
There is an appeal, isn’t there.
I can say that I've really warmed up to them
I really enjoy the vague history we’ve spun for them and how we’ve made them fae creatures to explain their outlandish appearances and personalities.

They’re dumb, but in a fun and fantastical way.
I'd say they'd have the lower body of a cat.
Like a cat burglar

I think that’s the right word. So much has become commonplace in our games, elves, dwarves, orcs, halflings, etc., but our Pushmi-Pullyu feel genuinely fantastical.
This entire thing is fucking retarded, and the involved fetishes that are the only reason for its existence are gross.
You guys are currently occupying a tier of sexual troglodytism not even reached by scatfags.
Interesting. I hadn’t considered that. Just how small would this Pushmi be? Would their torsos be Halfling or Gnome sized rather than human sized?
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Could you be baiting any hatder?
Probably halfling sized. No more than 4 feet tall, very lanky, very shady
First, that's not a crow, that's a fucking grackle. Stop masturbsting to furry abominations and learn your common cosmopolitan passerine birds, you pathetic deviant.
And don't fucking come at me with that "B-BUT WE WROTE OC, I-IT'S ON TOPIC AND NOT A FETISHTHREAD" bullshit. Every time degenerate fetishists on /tg/ assault us with their disgustingly malformed sexualities, they try and justify it with the most inane, hollow, bullshit attempts at worldbuilding. And it's just so transparent, and it's just so sad.
Drown yourselves in the nearest toilet, at your earliest fucking convenience.
Having some like that would really emphasize the idea that they’re not a race, as such, but a collection of unique individuals. If we’d allow for a cat-bodied Pushmi, I’d almost think to go Gnomish so that their body would most closely match a cat’s in size
They probably have the lower half of some relatively large cat, like a panther or cheetah. Not lion sized, but still relatively large
Oh, when I’d read “cat” I’d been thinking “alley cat” to go along with the “pickpockets and street urchins” aesthetic I always end up associating with rogues.
It coud be larger alley cat. Like, about 2 feet tall or so
That could work out, I think. The image of a Pushmi with a large, mangy alley cat body with a halfling (ish) at either end awkwardly skulking about is a fun one. While I do think that the majority of Pushmi bodies are horses and hooved animals, having a few stranger outliers does emphasize their “abandoned oddity” status.
Dude, last I checked, no one's requesting "oc purn of muh dubble-heeded wifu".

If you're gonna insist on trying to attempt the first mission to mars with the force of your ass exploding out the back of your sister's levis, I'd suggest finding a 'alternatives to DnD' thread to defend Gurps on.
>Party jokes that the rogue(s) are a real “cat burgler.”

>The joke flies completely over their heads.

>Complaining about fetishes on /tg/

Thanks dudes

Just re-read it. I'm hating myself for all the spelling mistakes. Just goes to show that I shouldn't be doing all of my writing at 1 am.
>"I love your catlike reflexes"
>"You really are the cat's meow"
>"What's new, pussycat?"
>"Feline fine?"
"I think they're mocking us"
"They're mocking us, I think"
She attracts all manner of cat puns, short jokes and thief flack in addition to being a Pushmi, though it sounds like she doesn’t catch most of them.
It’s been a good story.
Definitely going to try and write something for cat-rogue after Hallu-Halla.
Neat, can't wait
>Leva-Vela the Fisherwomen
>Marco-Macco the Farmers
>Fila-Lifa the Sweetsellers
>Londo-Dolan the Bounty Hunters
I'd say Londo-Lando sounds better
You’re right, it does.
Poor gal(s), can't catch a break no matter how much they steal
Form some reason I’m imagining them as fairly unlucky but happy-go-lucky at the same time, and perhaps just a little dumb as they don’t seem to understand puns and maintain their Pushmi talkativeness even while they’re trying to sneak around.
I imagine them being pretty serious about their job, really good (but not the best), smart, but not witty. Jokes go over their heads, yet details never do.
Also a good route. Single-minded. Or maybe double-minded.
Could have a bit of a Napoleon complex, trying bery hard to be serious and be taken seriously.
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>Napolen complex
>Just so happens to be very short
Poor Ralee-Rilee. She's probably takes the brunt of her party's jokes, too.
Makes you wonder how they met their adventuring group and why they stick around despite the jokes
>”They’re our friends, but they do not take us seriously.”

>”They ought to take us seriously, even if they are our friends.”

>”They ought to! We do not-oh, have a care Rilee, I think I heard movement downstairs!”

>”Downstairs Someone is definitely moving. I heard it too Ralee.”

>”We will need to be even more sneaky now, Rilee.”

>”We will need to be extra sneaky, Ralee.”
I figure that the rest of the party are good people otherwise and treat them well, but the jokes are just so easy to make and Ralee-Rilee just keeps setting themselves up for them and they just can’t help themselves.
>Sneaks into a heavily fortified keep, all while singing a two-part harmony about how sneaky they are.

I can't stop thinking about this.
oh shit horse pussy the thread. ima go get /b/
>They hear another pair of voices chime in from the dungeons deep below.

>Another Pushmi-Pullyu?

>Whatever their party had sent them in to steal will have to wait.

>They'll have to be even sneakier now.

>And maybe sing just a little quieter.
>All pushmis have an innate connection to each other
>They can tell when another is close
Any art is good art
They do, at the very least, all know of each other and seek each other out. The odds of someone ever meeting a Pushmi is very, very small, but the odds of meeting ANOTHER Pushmi while already traveling with one is unusually high.
I'd also say that I don't really agree with the idea that they can naturally sense the presence of one another.

We aren't really dealing with psionic beings here.
>The day had grown late while Samira has lain unconscious, and despite her protests the peculiar creature that had saved her would not allow her to begin the journey home as the sun was setting, insisting they set off together in the morning.

>Hallu, the half of that peculiar creature that had tended to the fire and to her wounds had wanted to speak with her, to know why she'd pursued so dangerous a quarry alone, to the point of exhaustion and distraction, through such terrible weather.

>Samira, never good with words without at least having a few drinks in her first, had offered a few half-hearted excuses about showing up the boys down at the tavern, which were met with knowing looks and a few quiet admonishments.

>Halla, the other half of the unusual duo that had cleaned their kill and kept watch, was a bit more vocal on the matter, calling the Human woman a young fool for her bravado while mocking her ability as a hunter for the embarrassing way she’d lost and found her quarry.

>Despite their differences in demeanor, both agreed that it was a very good thing that they had been trekking toward town that day, as she most certainly would have been dead if not for their timely intervention and skills as huntresses.

>Each side of the strange creature having spoken her piece, Hallu-Halla continued cleaning and skinning the giant bear's carcass, smoking the meat and tending to the fire in silence, leaving Samira to think about what she'd done.

>As the day turned truly to night, the women sharing the wolf's body between them settled themselves before the fire and motioned for the young hunter to leave her isolation on the far side of the blaze and join them for warmth.

>Embarassed and mistrustful though she was, Samira obliged, crawling wearily over to sit with her back against Hallu-Halla's grey-furred middle, the thought of how comfortably warm it felt the last thing to run through the human's mind before sleep took her.
I wish I was better at writing so I can make a bar tale/ cryptid story about these oh well I'll try anyways...
>I know what I saw, it wasn't a centaur with a rider or some drunkern illusion, but a centaur with another centaur attached...it happened when I was walking between towns late at night, wary of any highwaymen. Or at least I should have been, but I was jumped by a small group. I tried fighting back as well I could but I was outnumbered and certain doom awaited. Before they could kill me a voice cried out "cease claim jumpers," while another voice followed "prepare for judgement.." the robbers ran away chased by....by....that thing...

>I know what I saw....don't look at me like that...
[Spoiler]how bad is it.
Today wasn't a great day for writing, so please take this small suggestion of connection as an apology.

I also agree that they shouldn't be able to sense each other or be drawn to each other in any definite way, though I could maybe get on board with the idea that there is a lot of coincidence involved in the way that Pushmi-Pullyu meet and interact with others of their own kind.
That was fine for a twice-told kind of tale, and the only way to get better is to keep trying, anyway. Thanks for sharing it.
It was good monetheless
Writefag here. I've got something in mind, but I can't guerentee that I'll have it up for tomorrow (especially if I'm not going to stay up until 2 am writing). I'll try to deliver, but I make no promises.
It's all good my man. Whatcha writing, anyways
How the hell would Psionics work with these guys anyway? Would it even be possible for them?

Inb4, "Psion is a broken class and should never be played by anyone."
Who needs Psionics when apparently we've been developing a race that functions purely off of positive attitudes and excessive dialogue.
Thanks. I should have more free time tomorrow so I'll try and write another more substantial follow up and maybe something for our new rogues too, if the thread is still around.

We're edging closer to the bump limit, and having a little difficulty keeping the thread going so we might want to think about how we want to proceed. Starting another new thread with a slightly re-worked opening post showing the worldbuilding we've done and putting down ideas that these threads are fetish-driven might generate a bit more interest.

We could also wait a few days till we have more writing and ideas built up before starting another thread.

That is pretty much the Pushmi-Pullyu way, isn't it? Positivity and little fae luck working together to ensure that everything will eventually work out okay.

There's something rather endearing about their eternal optimism.
Might be a good idea to wait a few days. We should try to screencap as much of the greentexts as we can and keep hold of those archive links.

It would be much easier to boot this up every few days to see if the writefags to post their progress rather than try to keep a thread alive for the lone purpose of hoping that they post something.

Still, some good ideas are being thrown around.
We should still try to get this thread up to 300 posts so it will archive.
Agreed to both suggestions. It might be good to wait until Monday or at least Sunday afternoon for a reboot, give folks the weekend to do some more thinking and writing.

We should also definitely screen-cap and archive.
I can archive the thread on Sup/tg/ with the other and / or start a new one when the time comes.
>Food cart has worktops and magical food/utensil storage so the head that isn't pulling it can make stuff on the go.
I've been searching "horse-drawn food carts" and trying to imagine what this rig could look like but so far have not come up with anything that looks like it could fit the bill.

I want to say that it has a U-shaped or O-shaped counter with stools all the way around, with the Pushmi working in the middle.
>I want to say that it has a U-shaped or O-shaped counter with stools all the way around, with the Pushmi working in the middle.
I'd go with the U shape myself.

Course the tricky part would be designing a reasonable storage setup, I'd tentatively suggest that there's a rack of Bags of Holding for utensils and ingredients but I wouldn't know where to put it on the counter.
The cart could have a roof, with the storage lifted up under it in cabinets above the counter space.
Huh, makes sense.

Maybe there's also a catch for one of those weird "building parasols" (I don't know the real name, they're those things that unfold from cafes to give the people outside somewhere cool to sit.) in the roof.
A sun-shade or awning, yeah, that would definitely be welcome.
I’ll be looking forward to it in the next thread of not in this one. Your writing has been very enjoyable, and has definitely motivated me in trying my own hand at it.
I had this rather hilarious idea for the Wizards

>"the building was on fire and it wasn't our fault."
>"It was not our fault that the Building was on fire."
>”We learned the spell correctly.”
>”It was the correct spell we learned.”
>”There was no chance that it backfired.”
>”There is no chance that it set fire to the back of the building.”
>”Nearly no chance.”
>”Perhaps a small chance.”
>”A small chance, perhaps.”
>”We probably didn’t burn down the building.”
>”The building didn’t burn down because of us, probably.”
>”We should go.”
>”We have to be leaving.”
>Ezzi-Ezza the Wizards
>One has a sense of right
>The other has a sense of wrong
More like
>One has the wonder of curiosity and experimentation.
>The other has a sense of Awesome.
>They set things on fire a lot.
>We do mean A LOT.
>It's like 77% fire
>18% accidental summonings of abominations from the deepest pits of Carceri.
>5% good stuff.
>Even then, the good stuff usually involves fire.
>And was likely an accidental byproduct of something else.
>God fucking damn it.
Do they share a spell book, or does each have their own?
This is a GOOD question.
They each have their own spellbooks, obviously.
And they debate which schools of magic are best, I’d imagine.

Though, it is fun to imagine them bickering over who gets to hold the spellbook at any given time.
Their combined spell list is gonna be ridiculous. Especially if they both use the same School of Magic.
Admittedly this will only be relevant when you consider the various non-spell things each School has open to it.
I imagine them having different spellbooks that contain the same spells, just that they each wrote their spells in slightly differently.
>One of them has amazing calligraphy skills and has each page devoted to spells, incantations, and other magic info
>The other has shitty chickenscratch writing and doodles around the margins
>She uses the doodles as her way of remembering all her spells
>As she adds new spells the doodles get more complex.
>sometimes the doodle has been added to before she knows she's learnt a new spell.
You could get a good neat perfectionist versus messy creative type dynamic between them.

>An argument erupts when one discovers that the other doodled in their spellbook when they borrowed it.
>They're able to combine their skills despite their differences
With that, the thread begins to fall. I'll make another one tomorrow to allow the writefags to get their ideas down and the rest of y'all some time to come up with more ideas. Maybe we can even get a drawfag or two here, who knows?
As much as I want another thread, I think we maybe ought to wait at least until Sunday, to give those of us with creative ideas some time to do something with them, and to allow for some board turnover. Creating a new opening post that shows off our worldbuilding efforts might be a good way to attract some more people and shut up those who would say we’re just fetishists.

Also, we have to archive the current thread on Sup/tg/

Better to work together than at cross purposes.
Thanks for the great thread everyone! I’ve had a lot of fun and look forward to the next one, whenever it might appear!
Thanks folks
Seems someone has posted the thread to Sup/tg/ so feel free to vote it up to keep it safe:

Really tempted to turn off my filters if it keeps me from seeing things like this.
It can be a crapshoot sometimes. These threads could have been awfully fetishy, but it seems like most of us just found the Pushmi-Pullyu to be funny and fantastical. I hope we can explore their creation and history morenin the next thread.
Do it, you'll miss out on the next thread

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