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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: 1384808913318.jpg-(193 KB, 640x509, 409434134_fd5df40359_z.jpg)
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You are ghost, and right now you are high above the ground, floating in the chill winter air. Several other of your compatriots in death are drifting close to you. Beneath you lies a countryside covered with snow. Cutting the sheet of white in half is a road, a wide dirt road surrounded by trees. At the base of one of those trees lies a branch, broken off by the weight of the snow, a man, blood flowing from a head injury, and a large number of footprints in the snow. You feel oddly compelled by this man, and begin to descend towards him, followed by your fellow spirits.

As you approach, the man begins to stir, rousing himself to consciousness. He blinks around blearily, and touches the injury on his head, withdrawing his hand quickly with a wince. He rubs the back of his neck, and mutters “Ahhhhh, Gods damn. That hurts.”

Suddenly he stops, and his eyes go wide. He whispers into the air, “Wait… Who am I?”

>Really? One knock on the head and he forgot his own godsdamned name? Better remind him, its…

><

Any name works, but a medieval name with a germanic or russian feel would be awesome.
>>
>>28362262
Jacob Mortimer Frost
>>
>>28362262
>Any name works, but a medieval name with a germanic or russian feel would be awesome.
Ivan Nickonovitch.
>>
>>28362419
ahh good old Wrenloft, when aren't you in a quest?
>>
>>28362444
lab work
>>
Gottfried Ivanov.
>>
>>28362432
>>28362419
>>28362493
Alrighty, three votes for three names. will roll d3 in next five minutes to determine which one we go with.
>>
Ahmed ibn Razzafraz
>>
>>28362713
'Sup, Ivan?
>>
Rolled 2

A chorus of answers from an invisible audience answers the man’s largely rhetorical question. Still, despite the varied responses, Ivan Nickonovitch sounded about right. Ivan rubs his head, wondering what the hell kind of name Ahmed ibn Razzafraz was. Clearly he was wallopped pretty hard to think of something that odd, let alone to start hearing voices.

>Hey jackass. Hey. That was us. We told you that, cause somebody was too much of a wuss to take a hit to the head without forgetting how to wipe his own ass.

Ivan kicks against the ground, skidding on his ass until he backs right into a tree.

“Who… Who said that?!” he cries out in shock, eyes glancing around, seeing no one.

>You don’t need to shout dumbass. We said that. Don’t you know those old stories about the dead speakers?

Ivan rises to his feet and presses some dirt against his still bleeding head wound. “Yeah… yeah I do… You’re ghosts right? Da always said that they-you would appear to some in our family.”

>Yeah, usually we show up when somebody’s attained some kind of enlightenment. First time anyone has ever seen us after they got their ass whooped by falling shrubbery.

Ivan scowls at that. “I thought that the dead would be more like wise advisors, and less like snide assholes.”

Clambering to his feet, Ivan begins to wander around the tree, looking for his travelling pack, which has left its usual position on his back. As he looks around the trunk, he groans loudly. The pack is torn open, whatever he had kept in there scattered around the field. As he gathers the remaining supplies together, you can’t help but notice a leather thong sticking out of a snow bank.

>Hey Ivan, check this out.

>What does he find?
>Sword?
>Axe?
>Bound book?
>Prayer beads?
>Other?
>>
>>28362863
oh shit, I guess Ivan just got double confirmed.
>>
>>28362863
>>Bound book?
>>
>>28362863
>>Other?
The necronomicon
>>
>>28362955
Yes, this one.
>>
>>28362970
>>28362955
>>28362920
>>28362908
Votans closed.
>>
Ivan might not be able to see you, but he sure can hear you. He wanders roughl in your direction until he sees the leather thong sticking out of the ground. Leaning over, he yanks on the strip of leather, revealing a large book, bound with leather. Thoroughly brushing snow off the book to ensure none of it would later melt onto it presumably expensive pages, Ivan cracks it open and begins to flip through it.

>Hot damn. Is that the Necronomicon?
Ivan’s brow furrows in confusion, “The Necro-whaty-what?”

You float over Ivan’s shoulder and look down at the book as he slowly flips through it. The pages seem to detail a variety of symbols and ritual circles, all annotated in small scrawled handwriting. Suddenly, the writing style changes to a large graceful cursive, lists of ingredients and many expertly drawn images of plants and animals neatly organized on each page. Further on, the style suddenly switches to a series of crude illustrations of men punching, with what you presume to be fire blasting out from their hands. At this Ivan snorts loudly and closes the book, only about half way through.

>What the fuck was with that last section?

Ivan shakes his head, and answers, “I have no idea. It looked like something a moonbrained child would draw.”

>Which section interests you the most?
>Rituals?
>Nature craft?
>FIST?
>read further?
>>
>>28363254
>>Rituals?
We necromancer now.
>>
Rolled 50

>>28363254
Read further, all about dem undeads man.
Ivan for lich-hood!
>>
>>28363254
>Rituals
Peasant farmers looking beyond the veil of reality.
>>
>>28363254
>>FIST?
>>
>>28363254
>Rituals?
>>
>>28363413
>>28363351
>>28363348
>>28363319
>>28363304
Gimme a moment guys, I'm drawing up Ivan's stat line for rolling purposes.
>>
You look down at the book in Ivan’s hands, intrigued.

>Hey Ivan. Fucking, like, look at the Rituals section again. Be necromancer. Fuck Liches, get Money dude.

Ivan cracks open the book again and flips through to the rituals section, looking at the first one detailed. It has a fairly short list of ingredients and what seems like a relatively simple ritual circle. All it requires is some blood, two silver coins, a candle, and a stick of charcoal made from a yew tree. “Hey this doesn’t seem too hard,” says Ivan, as he turns the page, where a skeleton is depicted with strange symbols drawn on its skull.

>Shit. Where the hell are we going to get that?

Ivan frowns as he rifles through what’s left of his pack. “Or the silver coins for that matter. I don’t seem to have my purse any more. Or any food. Or really anything much at all.”

Ivan yanks out an iron dagger, and looks at it gloomily. “I suppose this is something.”

>Dude. There were footprints around you. I bet somebody stole that shit.

Ivan nods unhappily as he returns to the road, the midday sun shining overhead. The road stretches on in both directions, with no discernable end point in either direction. However, the footprints that surrounded Ivan go back to the left, while the snow to the right remains undisturbed.

>Which way shall we go?
>left: follow that trail!
>right: whatever man.
>>
>>28363703
>>left: follow that trail!
AND SO BEGINS OUR DAMNATION!
>>
>>28363703
>follow trail
>brutal snowscape knife fight between peasant farmers
>loser is left to die in the snow
>winner takes belongings
>quest begins anew with loser
>>
Rolled 50

>>28363703
>follow
>kill guy
>obtain skull for ritual
>get stolen shit back
>>
>>28363703
>>left: follow that trail!
>>
to the left we go!

>writing
>>
>You’re not gonna let some asshole take all of your money right? Go left.

Ivan grunts as he turn to the left, somewhat unwilling to pursue his robbers. “What if they were the ones who knocked me out? I could be wandering into a world of hurt here.”

>Don’t be a pussy dude. You probably got konked on the head by that branch and some dick stole your shit while you were knocked out.

Ivan sighs and begins to walk down the road. As he walks he pulls out the leather bound book, and opens it to a random page, this time ending up in the section you have privately come to call FIST. There is a man punching, with a crude speech bubble with the word “Eldschlag” and a large number of exclamation points written inside of it. Chuckling slightly, Ivan draws back his hand and lashes out while shouting “Eldschlag!”

A pitiful burst of fire emanates from his fist, which is sufficient to startle you and Ivan severely. Ivan falls backwards into the snow and you recoil violently, not that anyone could see it.

>What the shit.

Ivan gets back onto his feet, patting off snow once more. “Well I guess this means I can use magic now.”

>Fuck yeah you can. This’ll be awesome. You should use your necromancer magics to resurrect us up some bodies.

“I doubt that would be a good idea,” Ivan answers, concerned. He buries his nose back into the book as he walks down the path.

Time passes achingly slowly when suddenly…

>Roll d20!
>>
Rolled 2

>>28363972
oh shit man
Hes going to bump into a naked girl whichs totally going to fuck him and give him money and the skull for the ritual.
>>
Rolled 7

>>28363972
Zombie carnival!
>>
Rolled 16

>>28363972
Hoping for whismical adventure in grim peasant farmer land of hunger, ice and untrustworthy wizards.
>>
Rolled 41

>>28363972
>>
File: 1384815593877.jpg-(43 KB, 400x299, my hovel.jpg)
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>There once was bitch on his rear
>Surrounded by undead he could hear
>He was struck on his skulls
>Now he loves suckin’ balls
>Now he’s called Ivan the Queer!

Gods, you are so funny. Ivan seems less amused though.

>Don’t be lame Ivan. The Muse of dirty limericks is a fickle mistress. We almost weren’t able to rhyme those middle two lines. And honestly, repeating the word now was kind of lame, but we’ll take what we can get.

Ivan simply scowls and turns back to the road before stopping suddenly. In the distance you both can see a small hut at the bottom of a hill, surrounded by what you assume would be a small field if it weren’t being covered up by the winter snow. Ivan runs behind a large oak tree, and glances out at the hovel from behind its thick trunk.

“Hey, you guys have any ideas how we should approach this?”

>Bless his with your tactical acumen anons! Should he:
>Charge to the house screaming bloody murder?
>Wait until night fall?
>Walk up like a normal human being and knock?
>Other?
>Feel free to ask questions too.
>>
Rolled 13

>>28364346
Spirits will help ivan and scout into the house, if we help him enough ivan should get us bodys for being bros.
IvanForLichHood1942
>>
Rolled 20

>>28364346
>>Walk up like a normal human being and knock?
>>
>>28364346
>Other?
find hiding place near by and watch and listen.
>>
Rolled 15

>>28364346
>Other
Wait and watch, if all seems normal, approach like normal human being.
>>
>>28364527
>>28364466
>>28364436
>>28364425

We're gonna go with scouting, followed by a normal entry.

>writing

also you rolled d20 for the dirty limerick, roll higher next time if you wanna do better

Also! Is everyone enjoying themselves thus far?
>>
>>28364589
Quite intrigued, OP, quite intrigued.
>>
>>28364589
yes, fairly funny
>>
>What do you mean? Why are we freaking out right now?

Ivan gestures at the ground agitatedly. “Look! The footprints lead straight to the hovel! I bet that’s where whoever stole my stuff is staying.”

>Shit son. You should probably sneak up and see what’s what. Wouldn’t want them kicking your teeth in, now would we?

“Yeah,” mutters Ivan as he licks his lips, “Yeah that sounds like a good plan.”

The dagger wielding peasant scurries out from behind the tree, and runs back down the path until he’s at the hovel is out of sight. He runs to the hill the hovel is situated beneath and scales it gracelessly, slipping on the snow. He reaches the top and you are both relieved to see that hovel doesn’t have a window facing the rear. Ivan stumbles down the hill, and sneaks as well as one can in deep snow, behind the hovel, listening carefully. Through the thin walls you can hear two voices, male and female, arguing loudly.

“Woman, I am tha man of this here farm and you don’t got a single say in whether or not I go to the tavern!”

A shrill screech answers the man’s rumbling voice, “An’ I say, Borris, you dickless wonder, that I was the one who found the damned money, an’ its mine to spend!”

“You watch yer tongue woman!” the man bellows furiously. Ivan blanches as the sounds of a scuffle breaks out behind the wall.

>Class act there. You should totally knock on the door. It’ll throw them for a crazy loop.

>[1/2]
>>
Rolled 9

>>28364858
MWAHAHAHA
Lets kill them and then raise the corpse. At will it will fix their couple problems.
>>
Rolled 3

>>28364897
THIS
BUT: Forge corspes together, make them share together for all eternity as one so they learn not to deal with ivan the russian soon-to-be-lich necromancing peasant
>>
Rolled 18

>>28364929
Question: what kind of farmer were we? Beet farmer? Potato farmer? Wheat farmer?

We could become the Ivan the Beetlich!
>>
>>28364974
I initially didn't plan for Ivan to be a farmer period, but since its a pretty fun idea, he was a cabbage/beet farmer whose family at one point were wizards of some renown until a hex brought their good fortune to an end. However, that was centuries ago. That's how Ivan got the Grimoire, its an heirloom.

While you wait for my next update, vote on the name the spirits will use when referring to the Grimoire
>>
Rolled 12

>>28365030
One is actually the spirit of jesus who possesed a bearded guy and fucked with people like walking on water. Ending with his own religion.
>>
Rolled 10

>>28365030
The incredible Zauberbuch von Ziegen
>>
Rolled 10

>>28365030
Shadow lords manuale
>>
Rolled 17

>>28365143
drop the E
>>
Ivan swallows convulsively and begins to walk to the front of the house, dagger in hand. He holds the weapon behind his back and knocks on the door just as the woman’s irate shrieking reaches its zenith. On the third strike the door slowly creaks open, revealing the interior of the hovel. The floor is covered in a carpet of hay and animal shit, undoubtedly left by the pig that is sitting stoically in the corner, observing the domestic dispute taking center stage.

The peasants themselves are both extremely unattractive, in the way that one is when your parents were little too closely related. The woman is holding a pan in one hand and Ivan’s purse in the other. The man, Borris presumably, has one hand in the woman’s mouth and another restraining her pan wielding arm. Both slowly turn to face the ragged man standing on their door step.

Ivan smiles awkwardly.

The woman is the first to recover. “That’s ‘im Borris! Get ‘im afore he takes back what we got!”

The Borris lunges forward, hands outstretched to deal with the interloper. Ivan screams in terror as the Borris rushes towards him, and lashes out blindly with his dagger.

>Roll 3d10
>>
Rolled 7, 7, 9 = 23

>>28365180
CAST FIST!
>>
Rolled 9, 1, 3 = 13

>>28365180
>>
>>28365215
I rolled at home for Ivan and got 7,8,9 for 24. I think the dice Gods like him.
>>
Rolled 19

>>28365030
Name the book Mortemonsign.
>>
Rolled 5, 4, 9 = 18

>>28365180
IVAN USE YER MAGIC
>>
The Borris continues forward and topples into Ivan. You circle about the two, curious to see what happened. Ivan’s dagger is hilt deep in the Borris’ temple, which is fatal more often than not. For an instant nobody moves, then the smell of shit emanates from the Borris’ leggings as his body takes care of some final housekeeping. Ivan shoves the corpse of the Borris off of his chest and gets onto his feet. The woman stares at him for a few seconds, before her pug face screws up in a look of fury.

“You sunnuva bitch! Borris was mine to knife dammit!”

Just as she was about to charge forward to deal some nasty cranial damage with her pan, the pig squeals loudly and bolts forward, smashing into the woman. The hefty animal knock her legs right from underneath her and she drops her pan. You watch, the scene unfolding in slow motion, as her head descends towards the ground, and her neck striking the pan at just the right angle to unleash a sickening crunch.

>Bad. Ass.

>So now that Ivan and a pig have managed to kill two peasants, what should he do next?
>>
Rolled 8, 2, 3 = 13

>>28365441
Investigate pig.
>>
Rolled 8, 7, 8 = 23

>>28365441
>>So now that Ivan and a pig have managed to kill two peasants, what should he do next?
Raise them from the dead, united even in death.<

Also, make the pig our familiar.
>>
>>28365441
Shit I left off the suggestions.

>We must acquire bones for the dark ritual, boy!
>Loot everything!
>Run away from the scene of the Crime!
>All hail based pig!
>other
>>
Rolled 5, 8, 6 = 19

>>28365557
>>We must acquire bones for the dark ritual, boy!
>>Loot everything!

And make the pig our familiar.
>>
Rolled 2, 3, 8 = 13

>>28365557
>other
Investiagte pig.

Then loot.
>>
>>28365673
>>28365542
>>28365584
>>28365554

Investigation of the pig shall commence momentarily. Then looting.
>>
You drift over towards the pig, which has settled back down on its haunches and is drooling in an indifferent fashion.

>This. This creature. It has potential.

Ivan wanders over, somewhat shocked at the sudden loss of human life he just caused, and kneels next to the pig, scratching behind its ears gently. “Can you guys see something about the pig’s, I dunno, aura or something?”

>No. But it did just totally wreck some peasant lady. So that’s pretty impressive.

“Alright then. Well I’m going to leave you to that, there’s stuff to be looted.”

You continue to drift around the pig while Ivan digs through the farmer couple’s hovel, looking for supplies. Ivan returns several minutes later, his pack full to bursting with foodstuffs and various travelling gear, a sickle in one hand, a purse in the other, and a satisfied grin on his face. “Alright, I just know you’re still fixated on the pig. What are you all thinking?”

>Dude. If you want to be a proper necromancer, you’re gonna need a familiar. This pig seems like a great fit.

“Aren’t familiars, I dunno, like cats or bats, or dragonlings, or something?”

>Yeah I guess. But fuck that fancy wizard bullshit. You’re Ivan the Peasentmancer. A pig is freaking perfect.

“I suppose,” Ivan says rather doubtfully as he flicks through the Ritual Section of his spellbook. “Ah, here. This seems to be a binding spell for familiars.”

>Should Ivan’s familiar be a pig?
>Yes, and if so, give a name
>On second thought, no, its a dumb idea.
>>
File: 1384821290595.jpg-(173 KB, 900x675, Familiar.jpg)
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>>28365848
Shit I forgot to include a picture of the pig
>>
>>28365848
>>On second thought, no, its a dumb idea.

Ivan should get a huge wild boar as a familiar. One that he can ride.
>>
>>28365848
>Yes, and if so, give a name

Once this doesn't hurt the pig, I'm all for it. I want to enchant this pig with magical powers.

Name the pig Black Maw.
>>
Rolled 4, 9, 1 = 14

>>28365848
Can you have more than one familiar? If not then no.
>>
Rolled 1, 8, 4 = 13

>>28365848
>>Yes, and if so, give a name
Call it Piggy the Cuntslayer.
>>
>>28366025
>>28366010
>>28365921
>>28365875
Oh shit son! Its a tie! Gonna roll be a d2 in five minutes unless we get a tiebreaker

While we're still here, is everyone still having fun?
>>
>>28366055
yea, it is still pretty good
>>
>>28366055
I'm enjoying myself quite a bit, OP.
>>
>>28366096
>>28366156
I'm glad to hear it anons. Also!

into the hands of fate!

>1: the pig is familiar now.
>2: we can do better.
>>
>>28365848
>>On second thought, no, its a dumb idea.
>>
>>28366182
>2
>>
Rolled 2

>>28366185
Tie breaker! Rolls invalidated, my apologies pigbros.
>>
Rolled 7, 6, 8 = 21

>>28366182
>>1: the pig is familiar now.
That pig has a body count as high as ours
>>
>>28366213
>>28366210
Tie reestablished, but unfortunately, the dice gods went against the pig.

>writing.
>>
>>28366182
THE PIG IS FAMILIAR DO IT
>>
Rolled 1, 7, 8 = 16

>>28366237
We can have bacon then.
>>
File: 1384822775578.gif-(47 KB, 300x200, Brutal.gif)
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47 KB GIF
>>28366249
>>
Several spirits speak up at once in response to Ivan’s discovery of the familiar binding ritual. Eventually they fall quiet again and a new consensus is formed.

>You know what? Screw Baron Von Porkenstein. We can get something way nastier. Like a wild boar or something.

Ivan looks up from his Book, surprised at your sudden shift in attitude. “Well I mean okay. To be honest, I’m not sure how I would feed a pig anyway.”

Ivan looks back at the pig, still indifferent to the life altering events that barely passed it by, and turns to leave the hovel. Ivan stands on the doorway one last time, before turning back to look at the pig, which is now sniffing at its dead owners in an enterprising fashion.

>Oh that’s messed up.

You and Ivan hurry out of the house, but not before you manage to hear a sickening chomping sound coming from the hovel. Hurrying back to the main road, Ivan stops to catch his breath as you float around his head. Its now about mid afternoon, and you all look down the road. to the left, there is the beginnings of a forest about a mile down the path, while going to the right will take you back in the direction Ivan was initially travelling before he was delayed by a falling branch and the obnoxious undead.

>Which way shall we go?
>Left and into the woods!
>Right and in the direction of probable civilization!
>>
>>28366483
>>Right and in the direction of probable civilization!
>>
Rolled 5, 10, 5 = 20

>>28366483
>Right and in the direction of probable civilization!

More people = more chances to raise undead.
>>
>>28366483
>>Right and in the direction of probable civilization!
>>
>>28366483
>>Which way shall we go?
>>
>>28366483
>the woods damn it
>>
>Dude, considering your recent history, the last place you want to be is an area with more trees, we should go to the right and get back on track.

“Okay yeah, that sounds about right,” answered Ivan as he begins to walk to the right. “Although, to be completely honest, I have no idea where I was going before that branch struck me.”

>What the fuck ever dude. Its gotta be better than some random ass forest.

Ivan trudges along the road, followed by his cohort of ghosts, for several hours, until he runs into the first real signs of civilization, some small houses, much like the one they had just escaped from, although in much better repair. Quickening his stride, Ivan hurries forward until, less than an hour later, he sees a large town situated on the other side of a river, surrounded by stone walls. He slowly walks forward and queues up in a line of people and animals waiting to enter the town.

>What do you suggest, oh wise ghostly advisors?
>Get some information from fellow line-waiters?
>Sit in silence?
>Fuck this, we’re cutting?
>Other?
>>
>>28366880
>>Other?
Check the book for anything that could get us in.
>>
>>28366880
>Other?
fucking hide the book on our person, that shit is some real dark magic. Then talk to the people in line.
>>
>>28366880
>>Get some information from fellow line-waiters?
>>
>>28366880
>Other
>hide book, get info from folks
>>
>>28367066
>>28367022
>>28367003
>>28366902
Hiding the book and asking for info are our winners.

Also, gonna try to stick to a 10 to 15 minute voting window, to keep things organized
>>
>Dude. You need to hide the Grimoire dude. That is not some shit you should just leave out in the open, shit could get you arrested man.

Ivan gulps and nods vigorously as he hides the Grimoire in his pack, wrapping it in his sleep roll. With that taken care of, Ivan pulls the hood of his sheepskin cloak over his head, walks forward and taps on the shoulder of a large man carrying a woodcutter's axe standing in front of him.

“Oi,” grunts Ivan, trying to sound tougher than he actually is, “I ain’t from around here. What’s this town called?”

The man slowly turns to face Ivan, giving the ragged traveler a once over before answering, “Drezna. And yes, they are collecting a toll. The dvoryanin is a bit of a dick like that.”

“Shit. How much are they charging?”

“Three bronze pieces, and that’s for entry and exit. It’s highway robbery with a please and thank you.”

Ivan reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his coin purse, pleased to see that he had enough for entry and, presumably, lodging.

“So, uh, are there any cheap inns you know about in Drezna?”

The man grunted dully, “Yeah. The Micturating Stallion is passable. And the innkeep lowered his prices after they started collecting toll. Good man, but weird name. Calls himself Jack. He’s a little strange in the head, so we call him Jack the Off.”

Ivan looked like he was about to open his mouth and ask more, so you hurry in and shush him.

>Okay there Champ. Let's not bother the large man anymore than we have to.

>Alright, we figured out quite a little bit from there, what now?
>Wait in line and cough up the cash
>Fuck this. The Peasantmancer pays no tolls.
>Other
>>
>>28367497
>Fuck this. The Peasantmancer pays no tolls.

PEASANTMANCEEEER
>>
I'm gonna extend the voting window another 15 minutes or so, and if not, we'll do as >>28367705
says
>>
>>28367705
No tolls at all.

We the POWER!

We just need the respect that goes with it.
>>
>>28367497
>>Fuck this. The Peasantmancer pays no tolls.
Lets use sorcery to summon a swarm of elemental chickens!!
>>
>>28368017
>>28367824
>>28367705
it seems like the no tolls no problems crowd has won out

>writing

Where did everyone go?
>>
>>28368062
Dunno, man. I wanna see where this goes until I gotta leave.
>>
>>28368062
Might be that you took too long, and everyone else is checking other tabs.

Also, it might not be late for you, but it's nearly two in the morning over here.
>>
>>28368161
Nearly 3am for me, actually.
>>
Rolled 36

>>28368062
Made a cake
>>
>>28368062
Timezones, you started early and probably got the european crowd, which are going to sleep right now.

Also, other popular quests may have started.

Don't be alarmed, that happen all the time unless you are the likes of Shadow Quest or AoPH.

>>28368262
What kind?
>>
>>28368198
Good God, man, get some sleep, we'll keep the thread alive for you.
>>
File: 1384830228757.jpg-(1.44 MB, 2592x1936, image.jpg)
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>>28368354
Strawberry with vanilla frosting. Pic related.
>>
>Ivan. This is your chance to be somebody worth haunting. Use your new fangled powers and tell these agents of the man where they can stick their toll.

“Which new fangled powers,” Ivan mutters under his breath, “the one where some guy impales himself on my dagger, or the one where a startled pig accidently makes a lady break her neck?”

>I was thinking more along the lines of flaming chickens or something.

“What.”

>Okay nevermind that. Maybe use that fire punch spell.

The line moves forward and Ivan follows. You become slightly more desperate.

>Come on you absolute pansy. Wreck some people with your magic.

Ivan seems to be ignoring you now. Its time to Limerick the bastard.

>There once was a mage named Ivan
>Who sucked every dick in his clan
>When he fell with the clap
>He was expelled with a slap
>To work the docks with his can

Ivan grits his teeth but otherwise seems unwilling to bend to your wishes, regardless of the potency of your Limericks. Ivan is now at the bridge. The guard, a chunky man in mail, grunts in greeting and demands three bronze.

>C’mon Ivan. It’s your last chance to make up for not sewing those two peasants together into some undead abomination.

Ivan drops the three coins into the guard’s extended hands and crosses the bridge unmolested.

>What a fucking wuss.
>How shall you mock Ivan for this shameful display?
>>
>>28368449
>>How shall you mock Ivan for this shameful display?
Make him remember every humiliating mistake he has done in his youth.
>>
>>28368449
There once was a wizard named Ivan
Who gave all he could to the man
He took a thick cock up his asshole
(Need one last line)
>>
>>28368432
oh hot damn I want me some of dat.
>>
>>28368544
He took a thick cock up his hole
Cause he had no copper left for the toll
>>
>>28368544
He became forever addicted to the nasty pole.
>>
>>28368596
>>28368544

Excellent, excellent work anons. One final line rhyming with the first two and It will be complete.

Also Limericks will always be a viable option in this quest, should a sequel occur
>>
>>28368617
For his powers were just a great sham
>>
>>28368449
You give him the silent treatment.

And every comment afterwords, you give him a female pronoun.

If possible, you use your ghost-magic to make him look like a female.
>>
>>28368671
We could resort to calling him every female name in book and give him terrible advices.
>>
>>28368727
We already do one of those things
>>
>>28368727
So, something like
>Ingrid.
My name is Ivan.
>Catherine, we need to talk.

That doesn't seem very fun, though.
>>
Voting's closed, moving on to writing
>>
>>28368788
God fucking dammit. We could have a ghost orgy in his head then.
>>
>>28368832
That sounds awful. And yet, utterly hilarious.
>>
>There once was a wizard named Ivan
>Who gave all he could to the man
>He took a thick cock up his asshole
>Cause he had no copper left for the toll
>For his powers were just a great sham

Fucking badaboom. Best limerick yet. Truly the great Muse was with you for that one.

>So Ivanna. What did you think of that one? I think I speak for every single member of the conglomeration of ghosts currently haunting you, when I say that was pretty damned good.

Ivan merely snarls in response, frightening several small urchins playing nearby, and earning censorious looks from a few fishwives manning the stalls. The aspiring necromancer stalks along the main road, looking for the Micturating Stallion.

After several minutes of walking, Ivan has ended up in the docks district of Drezna, a generally poorer part of town. After wandering along the waterfront for a few minutes you all come across a rundown looking tavern with a pig iron sign depicting a horse standing on its hind legs and unleashing a stream of urine. “Welp, it does certainly live up to its name,” grumbles Ivan as he opens the door to the tavern.

The tavern is mostly empty, except for a few lonely drunks sitting at various stools and a strange group of people huddled around something in the corner. As Ivan looks around and large and grizzled old man with an eyepatch waves at him from the bar.

“Ahoy laddie! Don’t just stahn’ in the door lettin’ all the cold air in nah! Come up front and hae a drink!”

Ivan walks forward, and gratefully accepts the man’s proffered ale. “They call me Jack the ‘Off’ laddie,” the man says with a smile, “Here, take a drink, this one is on the house. Ye look like ye coulda use it.”

With that Jack gives a significant look at the air around Ivan’s head, before turning his back and drawing some more ale.

>What shall you tell Ivanka to do?
>Talk to Jack?
>Fight a drunk for fun and profit?
>Attempt to spy on those weirdos in the corner?
>Other?
>>
>>28369066
Talk to jack
>>
>>28369066
>Talk to Jack?
Not like you could do anything else without fucking up Valerie.

T
>>
>>28369113
>>28369097
Time to talk to the man with a stupid nickname! Now writing.
>>
File: 1384834456026.png-(452 KB, 775x560, Innkeeper_(Amaranthine).png)
452 KB
452 KB PNG
You and your fellow ghostly compatriots quickly scatter and re-coalesce behind Ivan’s back. Did that one eyed coot see you?

>Hey Ingrid, that old man seems like a cool guy. Maybe he’ll give free room and board in exchange for “favors”?

Ivan merely clenches his jaw in response and says nothing. However, Jack the ‘Off’ leans forward, and mutters to Ivan, “Ach laddie, me heart goes out tae ye. They seem particulahly obnoxious fae the dead.”

Ivan looks up and the old man, a smile forming on his face, “So I’m not crazy?” he stammers happily. “They only showed up today, after I hit my head, I thought I might’ve been losing it.”

“Yer not losin’ it laddie. Yer just being haunted by some bored spirits. Which may be harder tae resolve than a bit’a moon brain.”

Ivan’s face falls at that, hopes of a quick and easy resolution dashed at the old man’s words. “Is there anything I can do about this?”

Jack grunts as he cleans a tankard, “Perhaps… maybe if you entertain ‘em enough they’ll up an’ leave ye alone.”

“Entertain them?”

“Ya. Ye know, make ‘em unbored. Maybe then they’ll leave ye alone.”

“So what should I do?”

The old man tilts his head towards the strange people sitting in the corner. “Those hooded fellas hae been staying in the inn fae three days nah. And e’ery night they sit around tha’ table plottin’ somethin’ fierce.”

Ivan looks over at the group of hooded figures sitting around the table, and sips at his ale contemplatively. His ma probably told him something about not consorting with hooded people in taverns, but she probably didn’t forsee this exact situation.

>Sure you have an opinion about all this?
>Voice it!
>>
>>28369888
You heard the alepusher. Entertain us. Go shake your hips at those nice, brooding men over there and see if they'll dungeon your dragon, or whatever.
>>
>>28369888
DO IT STACY!

Go entertain the hooded guys with your juicy tits.
>>
>>28369888
>Get drunk.
>>
>>28369888
Look Carly, master your magics and bring us back, or at lest make us solider and we will leave you alone.
>>
>>28369888
Fuck that noise. Bind our collective ghost ass to a skeleton. You know the spell you little bitch.
>>
>>28370138
>>28370087
Two for solid bodies (I think)

>>28370065
One for alcoholism

>>28370020
>>28369991
Two for doing as the alepusher says

Anyone willing to break the tie?
>>
>>28370202
I'll change my vote from doing what Jack suggested to binding the voices to a body. Probably a skeleton with a top hat.
>>
>>28370202
bodies now
>>
>>28370202
Thirding >>28370087
>>
>>28370269
>>28370259
And the bodies have it. Carefully consider what your skeleton name will be, for it needs to be hella dank.
>>
>>28370299
Boneshank. That's hella dank.
>>
>>28370299
Dick.

Just Dick.

If that doesn't work, GoatBones.
>>
>>28370299
Zhukovski
>>
>>28370299
Bonaparte.
>>
>Hey I’ve got a faster solution for you, sugartits. Bind us into a skeleton and you’ll probably never see us again.

Ivan jerks up at the mention of that. “Are you serious,” he whispers desperately.

>Yeah we are. Probably. Now find us a morgue or something and get ritualing.

Ivan leans back and pounds down the ale Jack gave him. He proceeds to do the same with two more, and then gets up and leaves the bar, earning a concerned look from the barkeep, who probably overheard everything. He makes no move to stop Ivan, however, and allows him to leave the Micturating Stallion unimpeded.

Standing out on the docks, Ivan digs through his pack to see what exactly he has for casting the skeleton binding spell. Out of the needed ingredients he lacks only a candle and a skeleton to bind. Hurrying to the main road Ivan searches for a chandler’s shop, which he locates after several minutes of desperate searching. He pulls on the door handle only to discover that its locked, the proprietor probably shut down for the night!

>What will Ivan do?
>Sneak in?
>Wait until morning?
>FIST.
if sneak or FIST. roll 1d20
>>
>>28370538
>>Wait until morning?
>>
Rolled 20

>>28370538
Sneak in
>>
>>28370573
Neat.
>>
Rolled 17

>>28370538
>>Sneak in?
>>
>>28370599
>>28370573
good sneaking team. writing now

Are you all still enjoying yourselves? And if so, would a sequel be of interest?
>>
Rolled 13

>>28370789
I am enjoying myself, if a bit sleepy.

I would certainly enjoy a sequel.
>>
Rolled 18

>>28370789
Yes but must sleep soon, now will get six hours of sleep.
>>
With the sort of grace you thought impossible, Ivan gently pushes a panel of glass free from its place in the window, creating a small hole he could stick his hand through. Working quickly, he unlatches the window to the chandler, and slides inside, landing with cat-like grace on the wooden floor of the shop. Moving silently, the peasant turned peasant-with-a-grimoire snatches up a few candles and exits the shop just as silently as he entered it.

Stealing away from the scene of a new, and substantially less serious, crime, Ivan looks around, trying to figure out where the graveyard would be. You leave the peasant behind and fly up into the night’s sky. Looking around you quickly identify where the graveyard is located, and descend back down to Ivan to give him directions.

>Alright Stacy, I know directions are tough for you, so we’ll say this real slowly. Take a left, another left, and then go straight until you reach a small gate. Then follow the path for a mile and you’ll reach the graveyard.

Ivan nods grimly and begins to run in the direction you specified. After about 20 minutes he reaches the gate, just in time to see a guard shutting it for the night.

>What will Ivan do?
>Reroute?
>Reason?
>Fuck this, I’m so close to being free?
>>
>>28370965
Murder him Ivan, kill him!
>>
>>28371050
Depending on his shape, maybe even use his corpse. Saves us the time and effort of digging up a grave.
>>
Rolled 4

>>28370965
Kill the guard, use his corpse.
>>
>>28371069
See? Everyone Wins Ivan
We get a body
you (may or may not) get rid of us
he doesn't have to go home
we get to have sex with his wife
>>
Rolled 13

>>28371089
>get rid of us
hahahahaahahah
hahahahahahahaha
hahahahaahahaha
>>
>>28371089
>>28371088
>>28371069
>>28371050
It seems like there's a strong proto-sociopath route up in here

>implying that isn't the best route
>>
Rolled 11

>>28371129
Are you implying the voices in his head should be sane and nice?
>>
>>28371167
I'm sorry, I should be more clear. Sociopath route IS best route. Let's all strap in for a wild ride.
>>
No. Not fucking cool man. You didn’t have to listen to those stupid shitty limericks. You can’t do that shit to me and think that you can just get away with it.

Ivan pulls the iron dagger free from its sheath and begins to walk up to the guard, hiding the weapon inside his sheepskin cloak. The guard finally notices Ivan when he’s about ten feet away. “Hey sorry kid, gates clos-”

The guard stops talking as Ivan drives the iron dagger deep into his throat.

>Holy fuck Ivan. You just re-earned boy name privileges. That was fucking brutal.

Ivan grabs the guard from underneath his armpits and begins to drag the body away, into an alley. After dragging the body back past several corners, Ivan drops it fully onto the ground, and pulls off the helmet. “You guys mind getting bound into this guy?”

The guard was a handsome man in life, with strong features, clear blue eyes, and a strong jawline.

>Shit yeah dude. We’ll be knee deep in wenches with a body like that!

Nodding like a man driven by limericks beyond mortal comprehension, Ivan begins to set up the soul binding ritual, drawing a large ritual circle in the alley way, lighting some candles, and placing a silver coin over each of the dead man’s eyes. For the last bit, Ivan cut his own hand and mixed the blood with some charcoal, drawing a strange symbol on the corpse’s forehead with the mixture.

Ivan looks up from his work momentarily, and asks, “So, overlooking the fact that I’m an amnesiac who has never used magic before, and the fact that this is a soul to skeleton binding ritual, are you ready to go?”

>What do you say?
>Fuck yeah, we wait any longer and all that’ll be left of this guy is a skeleton
>Hang on son, let’s not be casting anything on three ales here
>Other
>>
>>28371378
You need to check if he's hung Ivan
I'm not getting bound to some limp wrist kitten dicked guy here
>>
Rolled 6

>>28371378
Do you want us to go back to girl names? Cast that shit already.
>>
>>28371378
>I think you might need a bit more ale in ye to get through with this
>But Ill let it slide. Lets get me some loins. And the body that comes with it.
>>
>>28371495
>>28371487
>>28371447
Well its time to drop dead guy trou, and bind souls to bodies. Writing
>>
>Yeah… wait no we’re not. Check his dick.

“Excuse me?”

>The last thing we want is some cockless wonder. Check his dick.

Rolling his eyes and groaning as loudly as he thought prudent, Ivan lowers the dead man’s pants and undergarments.

“Holy shit.”

>My God. Bind us, right now.

Ivan steps back and begins to read off the mystic words written in the Grimoire. As he recites the last words, there is a bright flash of light. That completely fills your vision.

You’re lying on the ground. You can feel the hard packed earth through your clothes. Wait. You can FEEL it. By the Gods, could this have really happened? Are you alive once more?!

You clamber upright and let out a shout of joy. After a few moments of uncontrollable laughter, you look out at Ivan who is lying on the ground once more, blinking blearily. You raise your hands to your face, overjoyed. Only these aren’t your hands. They’re bones.

Fucking Gods damn it. You’re a Skeleton now.

>GIVE ME YOUR SKELETON NAME WORM!
>>
File: 1384841159674.jpg-(15 KB, 229x200, TheRideNeverEnds.jpg)
15 KB
15 KB JPG
>>28371884
Mr. Bones
>>
>>28371939
The ride is eternal, our wrath as well.

I do think Boneshanks from earlier was good too. And now we can get that pig as a familiar and name him Hamshanks.
>>
>>28371884
>Daniel.
>>
>>28371939
this is the only choice
>>
Anons, know that I am absolutely not lying when I say that this has been an absolute blast for me. And in case you were wondering, this is a total derailment from what I initially had planned, and it looks like it'll be beautiful.

Unfortunately I've also been running this Quest for like nine hours and I'm getting pretty tired, so I'll probably call it a night here.

If there's any interest in a sequel, let me know and I'll try to get another quest up and running tomorrow.
>>
>>28372063
absolutely op
night m8
>>
>>28372063
archived for your future viewing pleasure


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