>>2833270
>Wraith, the shadow of oblivion, the eater of dreams. The minds of mortals are your playthings, to devour and possess as you see fit. But beware the rays of the sun!

>>2833270
>Skullknight, the fallen hero, the osteomancer without peer. Your strength accrues by the eating of bone, might without limit. But beware the burning touch of silver!

>>2833270
>>Skullknight, the fallen hero, the osteomancer without peer. Your strength accrues by the eating of bone, might without limit. But beware the burning touch of silver!

>>2833270
>Skullknight, the fallen hero, the osteomancer without peer. Your strength accrues by the eating of bone, might without limit. But beware the burning touch of silver!

>>2833411
>>2833461
>>2833481
The fallen knight then. So be it. Writing.

File: Skullknight.jpg (68 KB, 564x798)

68 KB JPG

The flames of fallen valor burn like two candles within the lidless sockets of your skull. They see the world in muted grays and reel with hatred. Yes, once you were a man, a fleshling that clung to honor, courage and mercy, as though they would save you from the true treachery that lies in the hearts of men.

But you seek no such salvation now.

You rise from the stone altar and survey your surroundings. You are in a light wilderness, a forest of evergreens and dark mosses. A cool river runs westward, whose waters you can hear though cannot see. Above you a curved slice of a moon and a million stars bathe the night in pale blue.

You flex your bony fingers, bleached white by the purifying rays of the sun. You are naked, merely covered with a tattered black cloak. A blade so rusted it is fused to the scabbard, rests on your hip. Yet you can feel dormant power lurking behind your eyes, waiting to be unleashed. An eternal hunger pervades your stomachless insides, the craving for bone, for the assimilation of it into your mass.

>Go searching for wildlife, fresh bone to feast on
>Seek out civilization, an undefended village will make for a fine feast
>Seek out shelter, you will need a lair to call home

>Go searching for wildlife, fresh bone to feast on

>>2833559
>Go searching for wildlife, fresh bone to feast on

>>2833603
>>2833621
Bone appetit. Writing.

File: cff6ffaa68777460143ffbe66(...).jpg (65 KB, 564x564)

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You move among the firs and brambles, your old bones clink like dice in a gambler's cup. You follow the sound of the river until you reach its bank, dark blue waters in gentle motion north. A lone burstag laps at the waters, a fawn-like creature with gently curving horns and white spots on its otherwise tawny fur. Horns of bone.

You slide down to the river bank, too far away for the beast to notice you. You pick up a small stone, about the size of a mouse and hurl it as hard as you can. It hits the burstag in the mouth, taking the entire lower jaw with it. It trots to the side a moment, astonished to face death so suddenly. Then it falls over and its blood stains the clear waters of the river.

You walk over to the corpse and tear apart the corpse. Scraps of sinewy flesh come away easily in your hands, leaving behind blood-soaked bone. You pull the skull away from its neck and crunch down on the horns. The fragments instantly vaporize in your maw and you feel a rush of fire to your eyes.

>+1 Bonemass*

Choose one:

>Osteogenesis: You can now restore minor injuries to your body using Bonemass
>Bonesword: You can generate sharp shards of bone from your wrist to use as a retractable/extensible weapon
>Additional +1 Bonemass

*Bonemass acts as a passive modifier to certain rolls as well as HP. If you hit negative Bonemass you are destroyed

>Bonesword: You can generate sharp shards of bone from your wrist to use as a retractable/extensible weapon

>>2833718
>Bonesword: You can generate sharp shards of bone from your wrist to use as a retractable/extensible weapon

>>2833718
>Bonesword: You can generate sharp shards of bone from your wrist to use as a retractable/extensible weapon

>>2833718
Osteogenesis: we can use normal weapons, no need for that yet.

>>2833718
Additional +1 Bonemass

>>2833718
>>Bonesword: You can generate sharp shards of bone from your wrist to use as a retractable/extensible weapon

>>2833742
>>2833879
>>2833973
>>2834234

Sorry about that fell asleep waiting for votes.

Bonesword it is. Writing.

File: Renwulf.jpg (89 KB, 564x811)

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The crown of the skull collapses inward from the force of your jaw, opening up the brainmatter. You take gobs of it in your hand and throw it away, having no use for flesh. Once the bones are picked clean you crush them in your mouth and as before the pieces vaporize as they fall through the nonexistent gullet.

You feel the hunger diminish though not quite subside. A sense of power floods over you and intuitively, you squeeze your fist, causing a long blade of bone to erupt from your arm. The weapon is fused with your skeleton and grows and retracts per your pleasure, albeit slowly. It's shape is sword-like, tapered to a point at the end and cut into an edge on either side.

Something howls in the dark forest. A sound that blasts through the river and makes the leaves shake. The scent of blood has attracted a predator. Renwulf, who the wolves call king.

>Remain and face what comes, test your new weapon
>Flee, conserve your strength
>Hide and wait in ambush

>>2834384
>Remain and face what comes, test your new weapon

>>2834384
>>Hide and wait in ambush

>>2834384
>>Hide and wait in ambush

>>2834433
>>2834508

You slip back into the forest, hiding behind two trees that are fused at the base. Minutes pass with only the sound of rushing water. Another howl, closer this time. The earth begins to shake.

Renwulf, king of the wolves, lumbers on four limbs of coiled muscle. Bigger than a full grown bull elephant, with eyes of glowing blue. It's fur is singed in places, burnt and torn out. It's body is covered in innumerable scars. Proof of battle. Proof of survival. The corpse of the burstag appears a doll next to him. He slits a claw across its belly and splits it open and feasts greedily on the steaming ropes of intestine, staining its mane and mouth with black blood.

Now is your chance! The bone blade slicks out from the back of your wrist as you leap and charge from the shadows.

>Roll 1d20+6 (+1 Bonemass, +5 Surprise)

Rolled 19 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>2834553
>Show him who the true king is

>>2834585
>25
FATE FAVORS THE BONE OVER THE DOG

Rolled 6 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>2834553
give him more rolls

Rolled 12 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>2834553

Rolled 18 + 6 (1d20 + 6)

>>2834553

>>2834585
>>2834756
>>2834760

25, 12, 18 vs. DC 16: Regular Success

You land on the creature's back, driving the point of your bone-blade into its side and then immediately pulling it across. You can feel the point penetrate only a few inches past its thick fur. Little more than a scratch, though you're certain you pierced an organ. The beast rears and spins, kicking its hind legs like a mule and throwing you off its body.

You land on your kneecaps and quickly roll away as the beast's snout lunges down toward your head. It hits a large stone that was sitting behind you, crushing it into pebbles and dust from the force. Renwulf howls again and the stones tremble. It's a show of dominance, but without bite to its bark. His breathing is ragged and you can see the steadily reddening fur on his side.

He'll die if you can stay in the fight a little longer. Run now however and he'll surely heal.

>Flee, you've lost the element of surprise
>Stand your ground and face him, you can survive
>Write-in

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>2835352
>>Stand your ground and face him, you can survive

>>2835352
>>Stand your ground and face him
>>Write-in: Rattle and Scream while doing so, asserting dominance

>>2835352
>>Stand your ground and face him, you can survive

>>2835368
>>2835380
>>2835487

Battle to the death.

>Roll 1d20+1 (+1 Bonemass)

Rolled 15 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>2835510
>survive

Rolled 16 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>2835510
>We beat death once, we can do it again

Rolled 15 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>2835510
Rattle Rattle

>>2835519
>>2835525
>>2835526
16, 17, 16 vs. DC 16: Critical Success

You could run and have him give chase. He'll tire eventually, his wounds will bleed out and then you can land the finishing blow.

But this is coward's path.

You will not run. You are SKULL. Your purpose is domination. You will slay this monster and gorge yourself on its bones.

You bend at the knees and take a fighting stance. Your bone-sword lengthens to three feet, enough to skewer Renwulf's head through and through. He releases a low growl and circles you, first left. Then right.

Then he leaps, paws aimed to crush your head to bonemeal. You roll to the side and the trees groan as his huge bulk hits the earth. He turns and is upon you in the next instant, before you can even recover from the roll. He pins your ribcage with one enormous paw and rears the other back to deliver the final blow.

But it is all too slow and well within your calculations. You stab upward with your bone-sword, piercing the throat until your fist is almost inside his esophagus. A quick flick of your arm severs several arteries and nerves and shuts down everything below. His arm falls limp to his side and you have mere seconds before the legs fail and the weight of his body crush you anyway.

Using the bone-sword as a stint you crawl out from under him and watch as he bleeds out, never to rise again. As before with the burstag, you rip the body apart revealing the unspoiled bone beneath. You feast for what seems like hours yet your hunger never truly dies.

>+1 Bonemass

Choose one:

>Osteogenesis: You can now restore minor injuries to your body using Bonemass
>Rapid Ossification: Abilities that require bone growth (e.g Bonesword) occur much faster (nearly instantaneously)
>Skeletal Dysplasia: LOCKED (Requires: Rapid Ossification, Bonesword)
>Additional +1 Bonemass

>>2835633
>Rapid Ossification: Abilities that require bone growth (e.g Bonesword) occur much faster (nearly instantaneously)

>>2835633
>>Osteogenisis: You can now restore minor injuries to your body using Bonemass

>>2835633
>Additional +1 Bonemass

>>2835633
>>Rapid Ossification: Abilities that require bone growth (e.g Bonesword) occur much faster (nearly instantaneously)

>>2835633
>>Rapid Ossification: Abilities that require bone growth (e.g Bonesword) occur much faster (nearly instantaneously)

>>2835657
>>2835686
>>2835711

Writing for bone cancer.

You wash your hands by the river, watching the chunks of gore and viscera float away. The pale moon casts long shadows on the stones but you can also see the first threads of sunlight on the horizon. Day and night make no difference to you, who neither sleeps nor fears the light.

Feasting upon the Wolf King has strengthened you, but there is yet more might untapped within. The bone-sword at your wrist now grows and retracts at blurring speed, like the flashing tongue of a frog. It is a formidable weapon, though brittle. If Renwulf were armored in metal, or if his powerful jaws had clamped on your blade, it would've shattered like chalk.

You turn to the fallen king now. Already there are ants and mice tearing at the loose flesh. Seeing his fur gives you an idea. If you can strip it off it would make for an excellent cloak, far better than the rags you wear now, more regal, more befitting.

On the other hand, perhaps you should spend these last few hours of darkness searching for shelter. You may not fear the sun, but the civilized races wield silver and it is the bane to your bones.

>Fashion a cloak from Renwulf's fur
>Seek out shelter before sunlight

>>2835993
>>Fashion a cloak from Renwulf's fur
Always do this.

>>2835993
>Seek out shelter before sunlight
>But take Renwulf's head, at least

>>2835993
>>Fashion a cloak from Renwulf's fur

>>2835993
>>Fashion a cloak from Renwulf's fur

File: ff71a1cc78be5beaa588f98a6(...).jpg (136 KB, 590x590)

136 KB JPG

>>2836023
>>2836029
>>2836032

You toil for hours in the reeking heat of pre-dawn. Your bone-blade slicks through the flesh, separating the meat from the fur. It goes hard, because Renwulf's skin, even in death, is tough and unyielding. You start by slitting around the throat, then cutting across its side, trying to unfurl the whole thing like the skin of an orange. It does not go quite so smoothly, but as the sun pulls full beyond the horizon, you have your cloak.

>+1 Armor (Armor negates damage)

Unfortunately you have lingered too long in the light and can now hear the voices of menfolk approaching.

>Flee this place
>Hide and watch them
>Remain where you are, you fear no fleshling

>>2836108
>>Hide and watch them
If they look too strong, I say we go ahead and leave. If they're unarmed, I say it's easy pickings.

>>2836108
>>Hide and watch them
I agree with >>2836112

>>2836112
>>2836116
>Stalk mode

>Roll 1d20+1 (+1 Camouflage Armor)

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>2836178
Rattles in silence

Rolled 5 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>2836178
>[Is sneaky in skeleton]

>>2836200
Fuck. Can someone roll better than this?

Rolled 7 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>2836108
>Hide and watch them

Rolled 4 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>2836178

Rolled 13 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>2836178

Rolled 20 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>2836178

>>2836952
Nat 20 baybee.

File: uff.jpg (62 KB, 362x447)

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>>2836952

File: Bandits.jpg (152 KB, 958x1522)

152 KB JPG

>>2836189
>>2836200
>>2836464
11, 6, 8 vs. 11: Regular Failure

You slink behind the cover of a fallen log and a boulder not five yards upstream. Watch these men, these fleshlings and crush their bones in your maw if they be weak. And if they wield silver, hide and wait. For the undying are truly patient.

The voices grow louder, closer. Footsteps and the scent of roasted ermine skewered through the brain. You see a man approach the river, his clothes are spotted with mud and the dried tracks of rain from distant oceans. His lips are cut off, curled in like a puckerfish and scabbed over. He is a liar, a slanderer and a scoundrel.

Six men are in his company, equal to him in disgrace and dishonor. Bandits, outlaws, thieves of cattle and chastity. To destroy these men would be a justice, though you care for no such concept. You obey nothing, no principle but the bone-hunger that consumes you like a universal law, like gravity, like the fierce coronas of ten thousand suns.

The one with no lips has found the slain body of Renwulf and he marvels at the gore. He whistles for company and three of the men break from the camp to share the sight. One of them looks in your direction. He sees something, a movement, a bony hand out of place, a part of the cloak that lands past the stone. He shouts warnings and his partners draw their weapons. Iron and iron and bronze, an archer, one with a spear, but not the familiar shine of silver among any of them.

They approach cautiously and you emerge casually and they cower commonly, for yours is a sight they have never seen, never heard of but in whispered ghost stories round the campfire--nor will they see, nor will they hear, ever again.

>Roll 1d20+2(+2 Bonemass)

Rolled 18 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2837049
Time to get spooky

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>2837049

Rolled 8 + 1 (1d20 + 1)

>>2836178

File: Silver Knight.jpg (81 KB, 564x772)

81 KB JPG

>>2837055
>>2837057
>>2837062

20, 19, 9 vs. 12-2 (-2 Terrified): Regular Success

The nearest one is mere meters away, fixed to his spot like a candle whose wax has dripped and fused with its holder. Your bone-blade shoots out like the ascent of the zerot bird, gores his brain through the ears and slips back into your wrist in a white flash. The spear falls from his hands and he falls to earth with eyes caught in an unending surprise. His brains fall out in flat glops and trail to the river water.

An arrow hits your shoulder, then another, then a third. Trapped in the thick furs of your cloak, harmless. You snap them off and throw them aside. This has an effect upon them. Lip-less drops his weapon and runs. Archer backpedals still keeping aim. His eyes are true, and you realize the first three marks were measurement. The next will crush your skull.

You duck. The arrow flies past the crown of your head, embedding in the loam behind you. You pick up the spear and hurl it at him and it cracks through his breastbone like a needle through an egg throwing him backward against a tree. Now remain four. No-lips shouts more warnings to the others and you can hear the sound of mounts and beasts of burden. The haws of mules and donkeys.

You hear a voice above you, to the west and beyond the river. There, on the edge of a small cliff over the waters: a knight whose mail shines like jarred fireflies in the absolute night. "Villain! I am GALEAS, knight of the Sun and the Moon. I have tracked these outlaws for many days and though you have brought a few of them to justice, you are an abomination and both you and they shall be destroyed here, by my hand."

And he bends and leaps from the cliff-face, a fall at least of 30 meters and lands on his feet with neither scratch nor bruise nor hindrance of any kind. He draws his blade, pure silver, white gold of the moon, smashed into an edge and given a name.

>Parley, if he fights you he loses the bandits
>Run, you can't win this fight
>Stand and fight, you can take him

>>2837094
Parlay, if logic does not appeal to him, run as fast as we can. Everything else is secondary, since he is apparently superhuman.

>>2837094
>>Run, you can't win this fight
We bide our time. Let him tire himself either by chasing dead men or the undead.

>>2837094
>>Run, you can't win this fight
Stalk the knight when he sleeps we'll take him down.

>>2837107
+1.
We rattled in self defence

>>2837094
>>Run, you can't win this fight
Parleying will loose precious time that could've been used to run. There's no chance in hell he'll agree to parleying

>>2837094
>Run, you can't win this fight

>>2837094
>Run, you can't win this fight

>>2837094
>>2837107
+1

>>2837094
>Run, you can't win this fight

>>2837119
>>2837120
>>2837227
>>2837321
>>2837370
>>2837407

Tactical retreat. Writing

File: 1522999902100.jpg (352 KB, 797x1200)

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Fight a silver-wielder and die; battle a blessed knight and perish. Retreat is not cowardice here, but strategy, for the undying alone know patience. You throw your head back and face him square.

"I am SKULL. Remember my name, knight of Sun and Moon, for we shall meet again."

You run. The silver knight follows for six long bounds then breaks off, for he sees the other bandits flee to the east, towards deeper woods and he sees that your feet are fleet and the chase will take hours and days and he will tire, but the dead do not tire.

"I will come for you again, abomination! Live in fear of that day." He sheathes his named-blade and disappears behind pine and spruce.

The sun is liquid upon the clouds, blood scarlet and chrome, colors of dawn. The knight, if he speak true, will come again and if he meets you as you are, your bones are dust. You must find shelter, a place to hide, rest, to test your abilities. Past the river west are wooded hills and caves and dark holes too and to the east are lands afire with cypress and spruce and fields of holly and shrines to the horned gods of the Green. Follow the river north and the scent of flesh will overpower everything; smoke, commerce and commonfolk. South and you shall come into the Craglands, a place of mountains and stone; still-standing ruins returned to the very rock, pregnant with ancient materials and histories and knowledge better left forgotten.

The broken bodies left behind call to you too, by a limitless hunger. Neither the bandits nor the knight will return there soon.

>Return to the river and feast on the slain
>Seek shelter among the caves past the river
>Explore the ruins of the wasted Craglands
>Go east, deeper into the wood
>Follow the river to civilization

>>2838188
>>Return to the river and feast on the slain.
Society and knowledge can wait. For now we feed, we grow stronger. Perhaps the dead will draw more flesh-laden beast to consume as well.

>>2838188
>Go east, deeper into the wood
He could expect us to come back

>>2838188
>>Return to the river and feast on the slain

>>2838188
>Return to the river and feast on the slain
After that, I'd say we head to the ruins. There's always necromantic shenanigans going on in those, 'knowledge better left forgotten' could refer to that. Might be a away to power ourselves up quickly, maybe get minions.

>>2838912
Agreed getting some good gear would probably help us and taking over the ruin would also give a good base to hide in.

>>2838912
>>2838962
+1 for rattle ruins post-feast

>>2839822
>rattle ruins

That is what our base's name will be, also +1 for this plan.

>>2838257
>>2838677
>>2838912
>>2839822
>>2839993
>>2838962
Writing for second breakfast.

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Waste not, want not. Though your hunger will always be wanting. The surf of the river sounds among a howling that grows greater the closer you come to the river. Round the body of the slain king: three great wolves and each are the size of bulls. They mourn for their lord. They nip at his soiled flesh and scream at the rodents and the flies and the maggots that are the advocates of death's devouring.

They turn and see the naked skin of their master on your shoulders. One in his rage paws the earth and growls at you, but the others bite his fur and pull him back. You pay them no mind, for the strongest of them has been felled and like the trunk of a great tree cut down, they are but dead branches.

The archer and spear-man remain where you slew them. The first bowed over against a tree and the other partially merged with the river. You crack open their bodies and remove the delicate threads of their spines, you rake the skin from their skulls and femurs and swallow them whole. The wolves watch this and cower, both anger and sorrow lost to fear.

The men make but a small meal, not nearly as filling as Renwulf's bones, but nevertheless there is the familiar flush of power, something granted from the old dark.

>+1 Boneflesh
> You have +3 Boneflesh

Choose one:

>Osteogenesis: You can now restore minor injuries to your body using Bonemass
>Skeletal Dysplasia: [-2 Boneflesh] You can now grow bones from any part of your body (works with Bonesword)
>Additional +1 Bonemass

>>2840497
>Osteogenesis: You can now restore minor injuries to your body using Bonemass
Patented fast acting calcium formula

>>2840497
>Osteogenesis
After this, let's go to the ruins.

>>2840497
>Osteogenesis: You can now restore minor injuries to your body using Bonemass
seconding ruins visit

>>2840497
>Osteogenesis
SKULL will visit the ruins.

>>2840506
>>2840508
>>2840516
>>2840527
Writing for even more bone cancer.

>>2840497
*Bonemass not Boneflesh

The bone you eat assimilates into your own skeleton, repairing chipped and fractured places instantaneously, restoring your old bones to new. You marvel at your fleshless hands, at the old yellow replaced with clean marble white. Satisfied, you turn southward. Follow the river to the Craglands and seek out the tombs of the ancients, there your purpose lies. Dominion of the dead.

The wolves whine and cautiously they approach you, heads bowed. Their king is laid waste to the law of Nature and by its decree they would crown his slayer. They make obeisance to you, stretching their front paws out and touching their snouts to the wet earth.

>Accept their allegiance
>Devour them
>Let them go

>>2840621
>>Devour them
Their king died to easily to be worthy subjects of the new bone overlord.

>>2840621
>Accept their allegiance
They will make fine pets

>>2840621
>Accept their allegiance
We will eat the weak and the old, and they will make themselves useful, else they will find themselves in the same situation as their former king.

>Accept their allegiance
We could have wolf guards.

>>Devour them
Their king died to easily to be worthy subjects of the new bone overlord.

>>2840630
>>2840634
>>2840810
Give a dog bone. Writing.

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You reach for their heads and draw your bony fingers through their fur. They whine and lap at your hand. It is an effort to stave away the hunger that rears, but they will make good pets and are worth more alive then dead.

"I am SKULL. Obey me and aid my domination of these lands."

They yip and yelp. An assent of a kind. One of them tugs at your sleeve, wishing for you to come with them to the east, into the forest They want you to meet their pack, their families, but your eyes burn for other places. You bat the snout away and move on, letting them follow you if they wish, or return and keep order among their tribe.

One does follow and commands the others to return. You give him a name, "Senwulf, will I call you." You scratch his shaggy neck. "For you are most loyal among wolves." He licks your hand, approving the name and your beneficence and you mount his body and set off for the Craglands, which they call the desolation of stone.

For many miles you wander, keeping the river beside you, stopping occasionally to let your beast slake his thirst. The woods soon clear and give way to a vast field of rock and sand and naked earth. The river tumbles down a cliff into a clear pool, an oasis sheltered and shaded by flat mesas of limestone.

A troupe of men rest here, cleaning their feet in the water and exchanging jokes and chewing tobacco. They are dressed in the free flowing shawls of the Crags, which do not hide the tanned flesh of their shoulders and arms and they wear headdresses of white and gold which they call kafyah and samdan and dastmali yahdi. Their sails of their small desertships are culled and folded, hooded with cloth to keep out sandladen winds. They have cages to hold their spoils, young women of many shapes, flowing hair and eyes like the noble doe when she looks upon the moon. Men in chains, beaten and helpless who will serve as slaves until they die. They carry great urns of dry spices, scrolled paper and dyes whose colors will not fade in thirty lifetimes.

Men of Crag, hard men. Merchantmen. Traders of human chattel, spices and secrets. The instinct to destroy them is immediate, yet something holds your hand. Their ships are cannoned with balls of moon-gold, silver armaments, likely to destroy the spirits that wander in this waste, but they will tear you with equal efficiency. Yet the men of Crag are trading men, fearless of the unnatural. They would not shrink from you unless you met them with violence.

>Go down and greet them, advice and trade would be welcome
>Avoid them and move on
>Kill them all before they can mount a defense

>>2841053
>>Kill them all before they can mount a defense
Best to get the drop on them, why settle for some when we can have all?

>>2841053
>Avoid them and move on
We aim for greater things

>>2841053
>Go down and greet them

File: skeleton.jpg (46 KB, 800x450)

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>>2841144
>Negotiations with fleshbags

>>2841053
>>Avoid them and move on
We and Senwolf have forgotten knowledge to fuck with. Forbidden power ups now, meatbags later.

>>2841158
>>2841144
fair fair, changing vote.

>>2841158
+1-ing this idea, can we make a note of this location so we can come back later?

>>2841053
>Avoid them and move on
wait not for any inferior meatbags. regardless, we likely have nothing more than the fur on our back to trade.

>>2841349
boneblades(totally not soul corrupting)???

>>2841352
oh shit- how could i have forgotten the eternally damned boneblades

>Avoid them and move on
We've already had one close-ish fight, best not risk another.

>>2841352
>>2841401
Note that you cannot detach the boneblades from your skeleton yet

>>2841321
The oasis is easy enough to find, but it's only a pit-stop for the Cragmen. They're unlikely to be here when you return.

>>2841110
>>2841158
>>2841161
>>2841321
>>2841349
>>2842426

Let me get an encounter roll.
>Roll 1d100 (higher is better)

Rolled 13 (1d100)

>>2843427
Come on something good

Rolled 100 (1d100)

>>2843427

>>2843466
Huh

>>2843466
No one's going to be beating this. Writing.

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Today shall you spare them. For there is no mercy within you to save the race of men, but prudence and greater rewards cry upon the wind, from the dunes. Even bone-hunger must bow to the ache of ancient knowledge.

Thus you turn from the Cragmen and their sailships and you ride eastward, deeper into this rock until the skies tear and they were so from a primordial age when the nameless masters hurled the very stars upon the earth and their postage were craters pearled with moon-gold.

And what remains? Holes. Plucked voids upon this flatlands and this white sand. And all conflicts, blood and humour spoiled in their name, are homogeneous with dust. So shall it be forever, till the last star is dissolved. Yet it perturbs you not, death is nothing to the endless rage.

Above you, purple and green aurorae billow like cosmic flags. Without the blue of the sky, the sun's blows go unhindered. It does nothing to you, a creature without flesh or feeling. But Senwulf, your loyal steed, buckles from thirst and heat. His eyes are crusted over and come sunfall his tongue is lolled and spotted with boils and scabs. He pushes on and even as his eyes close, the night stars appear and the moon shines upon a temple standing amid the rock. You are arrived.

You lead Senwulf to the shade of its walls and it lies, collapses, to its rest. , Without water or nourishment, it will be of a final kind but perhaps this place promises both. You walk its perimeter.

It's walls are submerged in sand, its main entrance. Senwulf could perhaps dig it out, though it would surely tax him. A tower stands above the ruin, sunk enough that you could climb to its parapets and enter there, thirty feet from the surface. There is a third way: a flat fissure in the earth which leads an incalculable depth into the very bowels of this place.

>Let Senwulf rest, then have him dig out the entrance
>Drop through the crack in the earth
>Climb the tower
>Write-in

>>2843717
>Climb the tower

>>2843717
>Climb the tower

>>2843717
>Write-in: Tell Senwulf to rest while you climb the tower

>>2843717
>Write-in: Find water for Senwulf to drink & then hunt for animals, consuming the bone & giving the otherwise useless flesh to Senwulf.

>>2843817
+1

>>2844177
+1
It saved us from walking in the desert

>>2844393
Which isn't a big deal considering we're bones

>>2844395
just save the doggie ;_;

>>2844177
>just save the doggie ;_;

+1 Switching to help doggo, because what's the point in undeath without doggos?

>>2844408
No we don't really care about fleshbags its just a beast nothing more.

>>2844413
What kind of king leaves his subject to die.

>>2844432
A King who obvious doesn't care about ruling and wants to devour

>>2844436
This beast has use to us. For instance, the ability to scent and provide a tactical advantage.
>>2844411
>>2844177
I am also switching mine to +1 save Senwulf.

>>2844177
>>2844393
>>2844411
>>2844460

>>2843728
>>2843797
Combining these two, since technically you are searching for vittles inside the temple. But it will now be your main focus.

Writing.

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Close to the lying beast you stoop and touch his face. "Do not die, my most loyal, for I will find you water and flesh." He whines and sniffs your hand, blind by sand and swollen eyes. You reach behind his ears and brush a beetle from his hair. "I will return."

Thus you leave him and circle the spire twice before climbing the base mountain of sand till your hands strike brick and mortar gapped by time. You loose the great cloak from your body, naked bone alone against the rounded wall. Climb arm after arm, feeling neither tire nor having any breathe to lose. At twenty meters the fall would snap a leg, at thirty, near the edge of crenelations the fall would crumple you completely. Yet there are no such things as fear or apprehension in you, human faults all discarded with death and not renewed by undeath.

Small gaps between the limestone brick masoned by time and patient wind and corrupted stone where sand has agglutinated like grains of sugar in a bowl. These are holds for you, for your thin fingers and feet as you mount yourself arm over arm, foot over foot. At last you hoist yourself above the balustrade and look upon the stone ocean. Far, far south are shadow-shapes of mountains and north, the evergreens you left behind. To the west nothing. To the east nothing. A vast gulf of black, unpeopled by light, fire, stars.

The roof of the tower is half-destroyed and beneath what remains there are a set of stone steps spiraled into the unknown. Set opposed to this is a nest of dried reeds, dead tree matter and animal bones, huge and toroidal and enough to accommodate a bird with wings as large as the Cragmen's sails. Only one such creature floats in this waste: the mighty Zerot bird, who carries water in her head-hump from distant rivers and oasis and drips them to her children when they cry.

There are three eggs in the nest, each the size of funerary urns, and the color of rust, and the remains of three more and beside them, the sleeping chicks that emerged. Each one is a pale white color, nearly transparent, as big as a grown dog. Bodies freshly molted, skinless, featherless, flightless, sightless, senseless. Eyes shut by sleep and dried egg matter. To destroy such innocents seems almost revolting and will surely incur the wrath of their mother, when she returns. And they have few and hollow bones besides.

Nevertheless, their blood and flesh would be welcome nourishment for your steed. And your own hunger calls eternal.

>Kill the chicks and throw them down
>Bring the eggs down but spare the chicks
>Leave the chicks alone, wait for the mother
>Head down the stairs deeper into the temple

>>2844812
>Bring the eggs down but spare the chicks
The eggs will be enough for the puppy.

>>2844812
>>Leave the chicks alone, wait for the mother
Can we make some sort of trap for the mother?

>>2844830
I dunno...Senwulf is big enough to be a mount. I think wolves do eat a substantial amount. And who knows how long we may be out here?

>>2844849
Hmm, true.
You think we can take on the bird?

>>2844849
Changing my vote to this incase no one else posts before OP comes back

>>2844854
Depends on how we ambush the bird. We could pretend to be just another pile of bones and when Mama lands we can shank her with boneswords.

She'll be so boned.

>>2844812
>>Head down the stairs deeper into the temple

>>2844812
>>Leave the chicks alone, wait for the mother
He deserves a better meal, and we want some better meals. Once we get the mother, we bring down everything else.
I support >>2844849 in that a trap should be prepared, somehow.

>>2844812
So this bird has water in it's head-hump & is described as being nice 7 plump eh? I say we lay a trap.
>>2844923
I like the idea of pretending to just be a pile of bones, then jumping up, 7 I say that we should wait right next to the nest so we can sneak attack by extending our bonesword into the animal's chest since we have the ability that makes bonesword extension near instantaneous.

After Senwulf has had a meal & a drink, I think we should have him dig out the entrance while we look for a stream of some kind so we won't have to keep on hunting these Zerot birds.

>>2846199
Whoops, the random 7s were meant to be &s.

>>2844849
>>2844906
>>2844955
>>2846199
Set a trap card in face down defense position.

>Roll 1d20+8 (+3 Bonemass, +5 Surprise)

Now would also be the time to add any additional details to the trap setup. So far your plan is to
>huddle up in the nest
>pretend to be a pile of bones
>bone the bird at high speed when she gets close

>>2846821
>huddle up in the nest

Rolled 14 + 8 (1d20 + 8)

>>2846868
I forget how to roll

Rolled 3 + 8 (1d20 + 8)

>>2846821
>huddle up in the nest

Rolled 9 + 8 (1d20 + 8)

>>2846821
>pretend to be a pile of bones

Rolled 18 + 8 (1d20 + 8)

>>2846821
>Bone the bird

>>2846908
ez

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>>2846871
>>2846873
>>2846895

22, 11, 17 vs. 18: Regular Failure

Amid the waste of sleeping children, you wait to slay a mother. You lie among bones. The night passes by the rising and fall of desert winds and in their echo are voices of lost spirits. Deep blue fires with flickering tails float freely among the Crag, searching like thirsty mosquitoes for sweet flesh to possess.

They sniff out Senwulf and gather around him like a swarm of tadpoles around a breadcrumb. Because he still breathes and they fear to challenge him, they keep a safe distance. Then she comes. She grips the notches of the tower wall with two massive claws, strong enough to crack the brick. Her beak is thin and spooled like a butterfly's, a rope, a barbed straw to suck moisture and blood. Her eyes are large and black without seams, her wings are crow-colored and rough. On her head the true prize: a headhump, an oblong protuberance like the headpiece of a priest, bereft of feathers, translucent and crisscrossed with veins, shelled in bone and sheltering enough water to feed a man ten days. A veritable flying well.

She peers down at Senwulf, and a moment passes where she considers plucking him from the earth. Seeing him incapacitated, she delays the decision and moves to inspect her babies. Her huge bulk strains to duck beneath the tower roof. The chicks cry at the smell of their creator, a strong ammoniac stench that would burn the nostrils of more fleshly things. The zerot bird unloops its narrow mouth and like a living tentacle the tube searches for undeveloped beaks to source with life.

In all this, it has not noticed you and when its mouth finally meets its child's, you strike. You aim for the eyes, the head, to bring it down in one blow--but this is a mistake. The creature shifts its face in a practiced, defensive motion. Downward, exposing the hard marble surface of its head-hump to your bonesword and shattering the latter into pieces.

>-1 Bonemass

It unpuckers its mouth-tube from the child with a pop and delivers a snakelike blow to your neck. You narrowly avoid the shooting rope of what now you see is pure, pulsating muscle. It hits a pillar behind you, boring several inches into the stone like a rigid steel rail, before snapping back and wrapping around your neck. You breathe no air, but the tightness of the hold threatens to collapse your spine. You grow another boneblade on the back of your forearm, and try to cut the mouth-tube but the bird sees through your tricks and tosses you from the nest, protective instinct overriding everything.

You hit the stone floor and feel bones chip and creak. The creature grants you no quarter. It hops from the nest and bounding across the tower floor, hooks your ribcage in it's claws and attempts to take flight.

>Try and sever the tendons in her foot before she can get airborne
>Hang on to something and try to shake free
>Let her take flight, then use the opportunity to climb her

>>2846946
>Try and sever the tendons in her foot before she can get airborne

>>2846946
>Try and sever the tendons in her foot before she can get airborne

>>2846946
>>Hang on to something and try to shake free

>>2846946
sever tendons

>>2846946
>>Try and sever the tendons in her foot before she can get airborne

>>2846946
>>Try and sever the tendons in her foot before she can get airborne
It is time for her to learn that she has made a mistake.

>>2846946

>>2846973
>>2847043
>>2847839
>>2848086
Gotta cut loose. Footloose.

>Roll 1d20+2 (+2 Bonemass) vs. 18

Rolled 13 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2848563
This dumbass bird is going DOWN!

Rolled 2 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2848563

Rolled 14 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2848563
Pls RNGesus deliver us from getting destroyed

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>>2848631
>>2848973
>>2849202

15, 4, 16 vs. 18: Critical Failure

When the talons snap off your ribs, you feel no pain. There is only a slight sensation of loss, the knowledge of the wound without its physical consequence. Even as the bird beats its wings your boneblade slicks out from the side of your wrist and hacks at the scaled base of the ankle.

It does nothing. The blade simply bounces off, whatever the scales are made of they are tougher than your bones. The bird grabs under your left armpit with its other claw, and leaps off the edge of the tower. The brute strength of its hands are such that a slight squeeze separates your shoulder joint from the torso, severing your arm. It loses hold of you in the same instant, and both you and your arm fall to the earth.

At this height the fall will turn you into powder, yet still you feel no fear. Calm, almost meditative, you strike out with your remaining arm on the tower wall releasing yet another boneblade to try and catch a crack or gap. It skitters uselessly and the night lights up with sparks from the friction, then the blade slips into a hole and your fall suddenly arrests, 15 feet above the ground. Below your lost arm smashes into the sand and comes apart.

The zerot bird is on the wing, and cries again in that strange high voice. It curves around for a second pass. Broken, battered and with only a single arm (and that wholly occupied with keeping you aloft) you will be no more if it catches you.

>Slide down and face it on the ground, where you have the advantage
>Climb back up and take one of the chicks hostage
>Call to the lost souls and admit them into your bones for power--but also a curse

>>2849377
>Slide down and face it on the ground, where you have the advantage
in hindsight we should've let the doggo to die

>>2849433
+1, but don't you ever say that shit about Senwulf

>>2849377
>>Climb back up and take one of the chicks hostage

>>2849475
+1

>>2849433
>>2850558
>>2849475
Ground the bird.

>Roll 1d20+2(+2 Bonemass) vs. 18-2(-2 Fighting on Ground)

Rolled 2 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2851651

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>2851651

For the love of God some one roll before OP comes back

Rolled 17 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2851651

>>2851855
Oh thank fuck

>>2851855
Yes! Unlimited bone works

>the rolls are probably going to get averaged together
[nervous rattling]

>>2852004
They're not averaged, we get to roll a number of dice and the number of rolls above the DC determines degree of success. We still fucked this one p hard I think

OP here, won't be able to to post till Tuesday unfortunately. I also plan on having sessions at some point instead of sporadic posting.

Rolled 11 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>2851651