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/tg/ - Traditional Games


File: First night.jpg (158 KB, 800x447)
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Your father, Danar Tulleson, son of Tulle, is dead; your fingers run through his blood; your cheek is pressed against his forehead; your tears roll down his body. His chest does not heave and his cold limbs do not move. No breath runs through his lungs. There is no sound of voice or breathing: Your father has nothing left to say to you.

Your father is dead, and the pool of his blood is red against the white of the snowfall and the green of the grass. You numbly raise a soaked hand up to the light as you sob, choking on tears yet unspilled. You scream and your scream echoes. It echoes through the vast wood of the Cold Forest and you dare the Sharval Wilds themselves to feel your pain. "Father,” your hands pound on cold ground. “FATHER!" Again you fall into hysterics, crying and sobbing as your fist pounds against firm, cold earth. You part your lips to yell out again when you are silenced.

A Howl. And a scream.

Shortly after your tenth winter Arabella lost her daughter, Sarah, to the shivers. You remember her wailing into the night as she sat by her tiny gravestone. You had hoped to never hear it again, but the scream that floods the air around you dredges up those memories as a shiver involuntarily runs down your spine. You push yourself to your knees, and wipe the wetness from your cheeks with the rough sleeve of your jacket.

You look left: nothing. Right: emptiness. The light is fading fast, but you know it's out there. Demon. Already killed the others. And it's coming for you.

>cont.
>>
>Hours Ago...

Your name is Adrien Danarson, Son of Danar before you, and you are a young man of 18. It is a cold autumn’s night of the 9th moon and winter is well on its way. Its cold fingers drag against your skin like needles, and you pull yourself tighter against the wall of the old wagon. Turning toward the fore, you raise your voice against the creaking of the beams and the howling of the wind: "When will we reach the others, father? The light is fading fast and I'm dying of cold back here."

A slow silence follows, and you doubt that he heard you when-

"I can see their fires now. Just settle in tight and get your things together back there." You can hardly settle in tight back here in this damned wagon. You’ll be plucking splinters from your ass for nights yet. Still, you settle back against the wagon and look over the supplies from town, as well as your own possessions.

Your father had gathered you at your apprenticeship and stated that you were "…going hunting. Today. We head to the Cold Forest." At first, you agreed. You don't say no to your father when he has that certain glint to his eyes and sets his chin just so. You couldn't stop yourself from asking him why, though. Most didn’t go hunting into the Colds this time of year, after all. Also, why the short notice? He only said one word after that.

"Felbeast."

>cont.
>>
Even thinking back to the conversation you wince, and fear stings the back of your throat like a summerwasp as you sit on the cold planks of the wagon.

You turn to your possessions. Time to keep your thoughts busy and tied, lest they continue to tear at your spirit. For such a hunt, you brought tools of combat, with which you had moderate training. They lay before you:

> 1. Your blade, shield, well-worn leather jerkin, and your personal holy talisman.
> 2. Your personal set of warmest furs, a sturdy double-headed axe, a collection of useful odds and ends, and a sprig of ritual holly for luck.
> 3. The bow you carved last year, your dark hooded overcoat, and the crystal focus for the various cantrips that you know.

Everything seems to be in order, and your check of the supplies runs the same. Everything in order - now only to kill a murderous hound spawned from the very depths of Hell itself.

> Let’s get this straight underway. In the future, I'd like to go with majority consensus for decisions.
> Choose one of the options, please. For this first vote, it's first one to reach 3 votes that wins.
> Otherwise, welcome and thanks for playing. If you have any questions feel free to ask away.
>>
>>35960329
Can we go with
> 2. Your personal set of warmest furs,
+
A spear & shield
+
>and your personal holy talisman.
>>
>>35960329
>> 1. Your blade, shield, well-worn leather jerkin, and your personal holy talisman.
>>
>>35960364
Your creativity is my fuel. If I can get two "I second"s from different anons we can go with this.

For the sake of understanding your choice better, and because it's quiet as balls in here, what made you pick those specific elements?


Also, thanks for joining. Welcome. etc.
>>
>>35960448
>what made you pick those specific elements?
> 2. Your personal set of warmest furs,
Snowfall, it sounds like a cold setting, and it's probably the best clothing we could get. Something like a demon should be able to rip through clothing.

>A spear & shield
Reach + Zoning + Defense, best option in general.

>and your personal holy talisman.
Honestly just personal taste, but I feel that it'll be cool to have it.
>>
>>35960329
>>35960364
Seconded, Spear and sheilds are easy to easy to sue and damn useful in tight corridors of a dungeon. That holy talisman will probably save our ass as well.
>>
>>35960364
I second
>>
>>35960501
>>35960488
>>35960487

I should have known /tg/ would go for the spear... Every time.
So, thanks to spear-anon and his silver tongue you guys are immediately leaving the tracks. I applaud this.
> Furred clothing, spear, talisman, and shield it is. Let the wilds come, you will fend them off.
> Writing next post.
>>
>>35960488
wow i can't type for shit today.

>>35960557
Sometimes spears are just that useful, besides i like having a little distance if a horde of greeblies heads our way.
>>
>>35960214
>Danar Tulleson, son of Tulle
I can't get over this. It sounds so silly.
>>
>>35960577
Issue with spears is if someone gets within the reach we're screwed. We at least have a hunting knife for backup, right?
>>
>>35960329

Your short-spear is of a solid dark wood, and its heft is good and balanced. You polished the steel head of it on your way to the camp, and even now you can see it gleam in the faint light. Your father had seen to it that some basic runes had been carved onto both metal and handle, keeping rust at bay and cracks reduced. You lift it to better catch the light, and can’t help but smile in spite of yourself. You may soil yourself when you meet this beast, but at least you’ll look intimidating while doing so.

Tracing your fingers farther down the hilt, you come to a stop. Where steel meets wood sits a series of tassels in red, white, and yellow tied to small beads you have carved with runes over the years. You take one, lift it to your lips, and utter a small prayer. There are villagers who see such spiritualism as folly, but you know better. There is protection to be found in belief. Settling back, you watch the runes, dancing with each shake and sway of the cart, and think on how they match those on one of your must prized possessions:

Taking out the talisman done in your family’s style, you hold it against the wood and metal of your buckler. You imagine it is but wishful thinking, but the way the talisman vibrates and hums just seems so real to you. Nonetheless, it serves as a reminder of the light that pervades you and the world. Even in times as dark as these.

> cont.
>>
>>35960618
Yeah, it seems as though everybody takes their father's names (at least us and our father does). Why is the "son of ___" needed?
>>
>>35960741
shield bash is an awesome skill.
>>
>>35960802
Yes, but it's not lethal, and doesn't provide near as much distance as a spear requires, even a short spear, unless you're a hulking brute.
>>
The wagon comes to a stop in short order. Getting out, you glance around at the sorry excuse for a hunting expedition before you. “Nothing to do about it now…” You mutter to yourself.

After you and your father clasp hands and trade salutations with the men of the camp – you joined 6 men already here – the whole party begins unloading supplies. Torches, lamps, arrows, and simple tools for trap construction. Various necessities. Food, importantly. Some alcohol, to be used, as your father says, "sparingly."

Reddard, a colorful fellow, finds that notion funny. "Hah! Sparingly. Torch my arse a'likely as sit here in snow without a good bit o' drink in me." He has an unusual way of talking, but the plain sentiments are shared by most of your group. The weather and scenery are unwelcome and no man here tonight wished to find himself in the Cold Forest at this time of year. Little chance while sober. No chance with such a beast roaming the woods.

"'Say we kill this beasty, roast'im, and head home rightquick!” He’s going to pull his beard off twisting it like that… “Sods alloya', I'll do it myself if it gettings me out of this blasted cold." The rest of his cursing is lost on you, as Reddard wraps his head about in a scarf and turns towards the small campfire now blazing. You spy some small pieces of meat dangling over it, likely dry by now. But, it does remind you that you haven't eaten in a spell.

As for settling into camp, are you….

>Of a helpful sort? You help the men unpack the rest of the supplies and ensure everyone is in good shape for the hunt ahead of you. You’ll get through this together.

>Of the ambitious sort? You scout the campsite and surrounding area, and ask around about the terrain or signs of the beast. The demon must die.

> Or of the cunning kind? You set to work preparing trap materials and analyzing the strength of your party. You’ll survive this, somehow.

>Respond to Reddard?
>>
>>35960748
>>35960618

Listen up, Anon Anonson, son of Anon....

I appreciate the pokes and prods at my writing, honestly. I'm a new QM, so b-be gentle....
>>
>>35960875
Oh. I was wondering about the culture of the society, not prodding your writing.
You're doing an awesome job so far, already hooked.
>>35960842
>Of the ambitious sort? You scout the campsite and surrounding area, and ask around about the terrain or signs of the beast. The demon must die.
This is where we blame ourselves for everybody's death for not being there.
>>
>>35960982
>>35960842

I will go ahead and continue once we get 2 "second"s, same as last time. Thread's a little slow. I might have to introduce a waifu soon.

Hey, anons, if one of you could waifu your spear and get some activity going that would be great.
>>
>>35960842
>>35960982
seconding
>>
>>35960842
>Of the ambitious sort? You scout the campsite and surrounding area, and ask around about the terrain or signs of the beast. The demon must die.
Spears are great for hunting, so let's get to it.
>>
>>35961148
>>35961101
>>35960982

>writing
>>
>>35961074
Oooh, spear-kun~ you're going inside!? ...be gentle~

But, really, I think we should waifu Reddard
>>
This entire narrative is now in Deckard Cain's voice.

You're welcome.
>>
>>35960842

You have never been one to sit back uselessly while others work. Especially when there’s a demon dog on the loose threatening to kill you all. Your perimeter is pretty loose, but there are no immediate signs of the beast. Your eyes run over snow, brush, trees, and more trees. There’s little here, but you take note of the important features of the landscape. Your campsite is in a clearing, with the nearby brushwood cleared for the fire and otherwise cleared of snow and debris. Comfortable enough. Footing is fine. As part of the plan, a kid goat has been brought along to be used a bait. It’s tied up some paces outside of the camp. It worries you having the “bait” so close, but better the beast attack the bait first and warn you all. A slight pang of sympathy runs through you at the sight of the thing, but you toss it aside.

Looking outwards, the land has a gradual slope downwards from east to west, and you know from talking to the men that a stream running northwest towards the North Shore lay to the west of your camp. There are trees young and old around you, with some of the deciduous trees still bearing leaves and a variety of conifers providing shade and blocking much of the wind. Trap-making material is good, but no use for shade right now… That sparks an idea, however…

Talking to the men reveals that the only signs of the beast are a deer carcass, relatively fresh, about 2 hour’s travel away from the camp towards the north following the stream. The prints were hard to track well due to the snowfall, ground quality, and wolf scavengers adding their own prints, and the men didn’t want to stay in the area of the corpse long. Still, you know it roams close by and by the telling of the print size it’s going to be a tough hunt.

>Now I want you guys to take agency. Imagine you're Adrien, and you have this killer demon out there. What do you do? Ideas that are seconded once will be thrown in. First idea to be thirded takes priority.
>>
>>35961372
Climb a tree or find another high point to see if you can spot it or a cave it can use for shelter.
>>
>>35961372

As a reminder, you have 6 men with you not including yourself and your father.

For future reference, they are Owen, Terrell, Reddard, Elric, Ned, and Caldur. They will be introduced (while they still live) in the story, but if you would like their loadout and skill information I can provide that as a sort of OOC comment.
>>
>>35961372
Take three men with us, and form a scouting party. Sweep further out into the perimeter, looking for dens, caves, burrows, or wherever this thing would live. Keep within sight of each other, so no one can be picked off silently.
>>
>>35961372
seconding >>35961479
except take everyone
and the bait
>>
>>35961479
Seconded
>Father, Red and Ned
>>
>>35961479
>>35961594
>>35961737

Going to write an update to address the noncontroversial bits. Please keep discussing, guys, and thanks for sticking with me.

>writing
>>
>>35961871
Wish I could stay up but I have work tomorrow. Make sure the thread is archived for my procrastination!
>>
>>35961929
Hope to see you in the future, Anon. Godspeed.

Your thoughts drift towards the beast, and thoughts meld into images. The beast in a cave, honing its claws and waiting until nightfall. A familiar taste in your mouth and tightness of your gut embrace you, but you shake it off and set yourself towards more productive thoughts. A cave, yes – are there any around? You know who to ask.
“Ned.” The spindly man is currently sharpening some sticks while his brother, Caldur, works on what wattle fencing you have. They’re both a bit pig-like in their own ways, but they know these woods well and how to trap in them even better. “Are there any caves in the area? Anywhere the beast could hide?”
The scarecrow of a man doesn’t look up at you. “Well, yeah, yeah there’s some caves upstream and higher up in the foothills. Didn’t go up that far. Never do. Too many beasts. Why, shit, the wolves have been holed up in there for ages Adrien. You know the mayor said nobody’s to go up there.”

You cross your arms, and give a long stare at the man while he keeps whittling. Eventually, he looks back up at you, and when he sees your smile he can’t help but crack himself. You’re laughing, but you start into him. “I know hells-damned well you shitheads go up there every spring to hunt the rockbirds. Everyone knows that.” Ned starts laughing, and Caldur, the oaf of a man, chuckles to follow him. They’re quite a pair, those two.
“Yeah, there are some caves up there. A big one in particular that would probably be a good place to look. You reckon we should go?”
“Yes, I do. You saw yourself what the thing did to the farmers, yeah?”
“Aye. I don’t want to think about it. Not here, nor again.”
“Well we need to stop it while we have the chance and we know it’s in the area.”
“I… I don’t particular want to see this thing that did it to those people, but yeah. I think you’re right.”
>>
Hey anons, I have to drive home, vote, and eat dinner. Give me an hour, maybe 2? I'll try to keep the thread bumped. Please help me bump it if you find it dying. I will return.

Your spear-waifu needs a name, in the meantime. Tina is already taken.
>>
>>35962054
Lol at the PGQ ref. Um how about Freya?
>>
>>35962054
Hmm. I'm thinking... Hasta is Latin for spear. How about...Tasha. It's an anagram, and it's a good name.
>>
>>35962381
I can get behind this.
>>
>>35962447
I can get behind you.
>>
I hope we get some palladin levels
>>
>>35962054
bump
>>
>>35962381
I can third this
>>
>>35963177
>>35963303
>>35963345
>>35962678
>>35962447

There shall come a day when OP does not return, and is a fag.

>This is not that day.
>>
>>35963906
It's tomorrow, isn't it?
>>
>>35963934
The prophets have said that tomorrow is indeed that day.

I like the name Tasha. Good on you, anons.

>writing
>>
>>35963978
Yay, I did a thing!
>>
>>35962001

Then, your father surprised you. He turned to you and asked your opinion. “Adrien, I know you’ve been party to some hunts in the area not too long ago. You’re of age, now, and I’d like to know if you have any ideas.”

You picture the area at large in your head. South: mountains, foothills and caves; north is the rivermouth and the shore; to the west are the scattered settled areas, including the attacked farm. You came from the east.

“I think we should go after the beast immediately. We know it’s in the area, and it seems likely it has holed up in the cave system. If we wait, we may lose it. Or it may come after us in the night.” Your voice holds steady, and your father gives you a respecting nod.

Elric is a bowyer in the village, and a respectable man. After lifting his hand and receiving a nod from your father he speaks from his sitting position by the fire. “I want to kill the beast like all of you. However…” He runs a finger over one side of his crimson mustache, thinking. “I do not like the thought of fighting this thing at night. We put up watch, we should be fine through the night. There be dangers in the dark. We all know.”

“Aye, we all know. Thank you, Elric.” Your father gestures his thanks to the bowyer, who nods, and then looks back to your group. “What do the rest of you say?”

Reddard pipes up: “Killit now so I can go home! Git out of this cold, I say.” And there are grunts of agreement to that.

“That settles it. Pack up. We leave immediately."

The fear rises in your chest again.

>Please give me 5 rolls of 1d100.
>>
>>35964395
Luck!
>>
Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>35964395

HOLY HAMMER SPAM
>>
Rolled 38, 33, 54, 25, 85 = 235 (5d100)

>>35964395
>>35964463
reroll my dropped luck
>>
Rolled 20 (1d100)

>>35964395
Let's hunt us some fellbeast.
>>
Rolled 72 (1d100)

>>35964395

LETS TRY AGAIN, HOLY HAMMER SPAM
>>
Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>35964395
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>35964498
Does this count? Pretty sure he only wanted one per post.
>>
Rolled 49 (1d100)

>>35964515

WOOOHOOO EAT SHIT EVILDOER, I STILL HAVE SOME MANA LEFT


HOLY HAMMMMERRR
>>
>>35964489
>>35964501
>>35964515

Going to take these as MC's rolls, because they were the first three 1d100 rolls.

>>35964498
And these will be for npcs / the enemy.

Thank you, you glorious motherfuckers.
>writing
>inb4 hue
>>
>>35964547
You doing alright, buddy?
>>
>>35964568

Aye, been a while since I played D2
>>
>>35964559
Your motley group of demon hunters stands as a few small flames in a cold, dark forest.

Thankfully, the woods are relatively quiet this evening and the snowfall ended shortly after your arrival. Ned and Caldur, the experienced trackers that they are, lead the way and find the trailblazing easy enough. The rest of you silently plough on, with some of Reddard’s more colorful complaints regarding the weather punctuating the silence.

It might have been hours since you left the camp and not much had been said, when you begin thinking again of the beast. Your grip tightens around your talisman and spear each, and you say your prayers a bit more quickly under your breath. You are on your third round of the first Passage of Light when a hand clasps your shoulder.

“So.” It’s your old childhood friend, Owen. And next to him is the village newcomer, a boy your age named Terrell. “We’re hunting the beast, yeah?” You notice Owen’s voice is a bit shaky, but he steadies it out. “… You praying that we don’t find the ‘demon’ you ol’ pussy?” Owen’s cocksure grin shines out beneath layers of clothing, even as he pitifully tries to slap his arms warm. “I mean, you think it’s real? Think we’ll die like that unlucky sod of a farmer and his family? Saying not any bones left, and the rest was scorched. Scorched, friend.”

>Going to continue writing next part
>Wat say to Owen and Terrell?
>Any questions about your loadout or groupmembers?
>>
>>35964732
Hm. Readership may have died.
However, I stand with my ship until the end.
>>
>>35964732
"If we do die,We'll atleast die like men"
>>
>>35964732
If we do, we do. We're taking that thing with us either way.
>>
>>35964988
>>35964970
>>35964732

Owen’s not a bad sort, but you know he’s over his head. That’s the real danger here.
“I’m afraid, yes. We should be. But I’m not afraid of what comes after – if we die, we die in the light. We will die as men.” Owen, for his part, actually seems impressed and claps you on the back but says nothing more. It’s Terrell that speaks up.

“Spoken wisely, Adrien. I would do well to die fighting alongside you tonight. May the light work over us.” His thick, accent and demeanor are very foreign to you, but his sentiment is not.

“And may the light work through us, brother.”

It’s another turn or two until the silence is again punctuated. Your eyelids have been getting heavier and heavier as the night went on, and the babbling of the nearby stream was very soothing. Thankfully you had some sprigs of herbs that, once rubbed under your nose, helped to pick you up again. Thankfully.

You had just perked up a bit when you noticed it out of the corner or your eyes – movement. Quick. Large.

“Stop. Stop.” Your whispers only grazed everyone’s number attentions. “STOP!” Your harsher tone woke everyone up that time, and the men came to a bit of a stumbling stop, “Over there, to the left – I saw a large shape moving amongst the trees. It darted ahead!”
The men draw bow and weapon, and look about the area. Some of them turn towards your father for instruction.

“Alright, spread out a bit and ready yourselves. It was probably a wolf, but we can’t take chances. Owen, Terrell: light up those extra torches. Caldur, Ned, come with me. The rest of you cover us.”

They’re hardly three paces into the brush where you saw the thing when Elric shouts out.

“To the right of you! The right!” You watch the arrow fly from his bow and ahead of your father. Where it strikes the bushes a loud, angry roar emerges and a figure runs out, just past your torchlight. But you saw it, you all did. It was no wolf.

>cont.
>>
>>35964732
>>Going to continue writing next part
>>
>>35965164
Sorry for the confusion, anons.
I'll be more clear next time I want input for the continuation of the scene.
>>
>>35965195
The beast circles around and then heads towards your father’s group. It lunges at Ned, and you can see the razor sharp teeth in the moonlight. So many teeth, by the light! Caldur meets the beast mid-strike and is able to divert it away with his large axe. The beast gnashes and roars at Caldur, forcing him away, but does not notice your father coming from behind. With a yell your father swings his longsword into the beast’s back. There is a ringing at the hit, but the steel slides off its armored shoulders, and the beast turns to regard your father.

“Come on, you sonuvabitch!” Your father drives a heavy boot into the beasts back haunches, and it drives its shoulder against him, knocking him prone. A ripping of the air, and it howls in pain as an large arrow from Terrell hits its foreleg, accompanied by a yellas Caldur charges the beast again.

This time, it’s the second beast that takes him by surprise.

The large man is knocked off his feet as a second beast joins the fray, frothing at the mouth. Steam rolls off of the body of the demon as it regards you. Its large tongue lolls around in its mouth.

“Shit! Shit! There’s two of them!” You can hear Owen’s voice behind you, but you let it roll of you like so much fallen snow. Ever since the appearance of the first beast a fire has filled your chest, burning out the stinging fear. Adrenaline pushed your legs forward, to help your father. To help your friends. Your talisman felt like it was burning a hole through your chest and you could swear you could hear it singing, now. The beast reared up to strike at your father but all it met was the head of your spear, jammed underneath its deadly limb. Screeching, clawing at the air you pushed it aside where it scrambled in the dirt. You helped your father up, and took stock of the situation.

>Please give me five rolls of 1d100
>Strategies? First vote to get thirded wins.
>>
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>>35965583
Forgot mah pic.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d100)

>>35965583
Shield up, don't get bit or hit, and stab the shit out of it.
Preferably when it tries to lunge, set the spear, and let it stab itself.
>>
Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>35965583
Rollan.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d100)

>>35965583
>>
Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>35965583
We gonn die.
>>
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>>35965624
>>35965640
>>35965643

>Those rolls
>mfw
Even if I didn't plan on killing people, anons would have done it anyways.
>>
Rolled 94 (1d100)

>>35965583
Don't worry I can still save the d- or who am I kidding dis gun be gud
>>
>>35965722

You set your back to your father’s; spear. Shield. Breathe. As you hone your mind for combat you can feel each ragged breath as he drinks in the air in greedy gasps. Finally, with a heavy sigh he sets his shoulders square and plants himself solidly. “Set your spear like I taught you, watch your flanks, and hit the bastard right in the eye if you can manage.” His voice awakens a bit more hope in you, and you need it right now.

You watch the beast as it paws at the ground, pacing back and forth, watching you. Its eyes are an inked, starless night sky. Evil. You you’re your soul deflated just looking in them. The beast just looks hungry, and you can tell its sizing you up. You thrust your spear out at the damned thing, shouting your fears away. You’re surprised that the arrow fire hasn’t bothered it m-

Shit.

Where are the arrows? There’s a scream, and you glance to your right to see a third beast being driven back by Reddard and Terrell. You look away. Have to watch the beast. Another yell, and you look again. The old man drives forth like some crazed beast himself, daggers lashing out at the eyes and claws of the beast. Terrell has circled around the back, and looses a solid arrow on the beast when – he’s dead. A fourth Felhound, as if it appeared from the shadows itself, sinks its claws into him. He yells out, but the beast sinks his jaws an-

You can’t look. No time to look, the first beast is coming at you. Fuck, fuck! You set your spear at waist level, and watch each heavy, bounding step it takes. Drool whips forth from its ivory-death filled jaw. Breaths. Seconds. The roof of its mouth hits your spear and you brace, you thrust forward and pray to the Light. Weightlessness. Nothing. Your spear takes the weight and then like a wave it crashes into you, pushing you back and into your father. You find yourselves knocked back from the beast, with your father shouldering your weight.

>cont.
>>
>>35966188

This is not good. This is not good at all. There is another scream. You get off of your father. More howling. “Father, there’s more of them. Fuck. Fuck, Terrell! He’s dead.” Your shoulders are against your father’s again, and you survey the grim scene.

“I need you to run, Adrien. I need you to run. Now.” Your father’s tone is colder than the snow underfoot.

>What do you do, Adrien?
>First action to be seconded twice wins. Give me 1d100 roll with your post, regardless of action.
>>
Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>35966212
"Not without you."
>>
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>>35966212
>Stand an fight like a man
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SyZD6G1EiZQ
>>
Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>35966212
Holy symbol don't fail us now!
>>
Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>35966212
>>
Rolled 19 (1d100)

>>35966256
Woops,Forgot my roll
>>
>>35966258
>Holy Symbol don't fail us now
>Rolls a 6

Bruh
>>
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>>35966268
>These crazy ass rolls
>These crazy ass anons think they can pull this shit on me?!
>I'm onto you, you motherfuckers.
>>
>>35966256
>>35966268

>+5 awesome background music bonus
>99
>Critical success
>muddafuckas get rekt

>writing
>>
>>35966329
Th-thanks for throwing us a bone, QM..
>>
>>35966308
At least you're not deity quest.
>>
>>35966373
Yeeeeaaaah i feel bad for Nano.....
>>
>>35966393
I do as well, im waiting for the triple 100 and him bursting into flame.
>>
>>35966428
I suddenly want this.
>>
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>>35966453
>>
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>>35966212
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uzIdc4sFzsI

>>35966329
“No.”
“Adrien, you must live! Let me buy you some time –“
“No. I stand. I fight. We fight. They,” You pull your spear from underneath the carcass the beast you fell, and swing it around as the second comes to meet you. The wood strikes the meat of its jaws, stopping its teeth just inches from your face.
“They die!” Your father’s longsword erupts in a spray of blood and viscera from the top of the beasts head, and a long whine announces its death. “We rally!” Your father pulls his sword from the beast and swings its clear of blood.
“Rally to us!” You meet his first cry with your own, kicking your spear free of the second’s jaws and joining to meet your father on the trail once more. The remaining 2 beasts howl as Caldur, Reddard, Owen, and Elric scrabble to you. There you stand, a tight circle, arms at the ready. Blood dripping to stain the snow beneath you. Hot breaths burning your throats.
“Come on you sons of whores! Fight me! You can’t kill me!” You roar your challenge out to the two beasts, circling in the darkness. Eyes and teeth gleaming. Do they thirst for blood? They shall not have yours. “You can’t kill me! I am Adrien, son of Danar before me – and you meet the light today!”
The men raise their voices to meet yours, and your chorus of swears and shouts raises your spirits. The beasts grow impatient, and the third – Terrell’s slayer – lunges towards you. You raise your spear to snap its jaws up. It whimpers, but the steel head of your spear shoots into its left eye. You lean into it, grinding the metal at its skull. “Fuck you, and tell your master’s in hell who sent you.” A quick thrust of Reddard’s blade into its throat and the beast is done.

>cont.
>>
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>>35966696
>>
>>35966696

You collectively turn to the last beast. It howls. In fear? Begging for mercy? It will die. There will be no mercy. You will make sure of th-

There are no howls to meet it. Instead, there are screams. Shouts. Words. But they are in no tongue that you have ever known.

>In true Diablo fashion, the enemies keep coming.
>Roll me 1d100 everyone. I'll throw this in the update of the next thread.
>>
Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>35966765
Well shit, Keep fighting!
>>
Rolled 3 (1d100)

>>35966765
Ohh shit nigga
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>35966765
"This is where we fight! this is where they die!"
>>
Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>35966765
>>
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>>35966809
>>ohh shit nigga

>Ohh shit is right, anon. Oh shit is right.
>mahfaceeeewhen

----
----

Alright, well that's it for thread 1 of (maybe?) many! I would like to thank the one anon that I believe stuck around for most of the thread, especially the beginning. I salute you.

That said, I would really appreciate any general questions, concerns, or insults you guys would like to throw my way. If this sucked, please tell me so and I will waste my time elsewhere. If it can be improved, tell me how! I'm a novice writer.

I had a lot of fun, though. Hope you did too.
>>
>>35966953
You did good, QM. Spear waifu was the right choice.
>>
>>35966953
You have piqued ny intrest see ya next tine
>>
>>35966953
Good job herald.
For the record, everything is still in Deckard Cain's voice.
>>
>>35966953
Twitter?
>>
>>35966953
Thanks for running Herald, also is that 3 a critfail or are you just scaring us?
>>
>>35967058
Tasha best waifu? Washa best waifu.

>>35967068
Good night and godspeed, anon.

>>35967088
Thanks anon. Couldn't have done it without you. Also - Deckard Cain is my muse. My sexy, sexy muse.

>>35967109
I will make one now!

>>35967117
Yes.

Hue.
>>
>>35967133
Well crap we're gonna die then. Well thanks in advance for the 2 parter!
>>
>>35967176
>>35967133
>>35967109

https://twitter.com/TheHeraldQM

There you go. Part 2 should be sometime this week!
>>
>>35967228
Awesome, thanks herald. Have a good night.



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