Penny

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

@Naril you are welcome to make shit up but it will appear that the goo covered man came down from the roof. You will also find the camp of the homeless man abandoned amid the dumpsters

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

@Atalanta Any local you speak to will be able to tell you that there was a loud crash at around 11pm the previous night, followed by screams and then a squeal of tires. You might also learn that there is a homeless man who normally lives in the alley but is currently missing. You could track him down for more eye witness details.

Penny's Pencils

Fortune & Glory: Grimdark Pulp RP

"Uhhhh..." Jocasta replied, inspiring little confidence in her allies. She wracked her febrile brain for something that would be more useful than coat the enemy in a liberal splash of bacon grease. The screaming mass of beasts hurled themselves against the barricade. If the obstacle had been on flat ground they would have swarmed the defenders in seconds, but the steep climb up the stairs and over the bodies of the fallen was hampering them. Jocasta saw a clawed talon grab the top of the stone in an attempt to pull its owner over, only to see Buri's axe take the appendage off at the wrist in a spray of blood. The thing hissed hatefully and Jocasta's ear twitched as she tried to figure out the syntax of its language.

"Any time now!" Beren shouted as he drove a bare palm into the face of one of the creatures, smashing its nasal bone up into its brain. Jocasta put her hands on her hips to retort that she wasn't a battle mage but trailed off as her eyes fell on the jagged sword that lay at her feet. The ugly weapon was the jawbone of some kind of giant bettle, black and glossy except where it had been sharpened against bare rocks. She picked it up, wincing at the lice ridden grip, and began to etch patterns in the ground infront of her. Arrows were falling around her now, the angle was too steep for a direct shot, so the beasts were trying to drop the points on them by bouncing them of the roof.

"Don't be so impatient!" Jocasta shouted back, making a number of small adjustments to the sigils she had scratched on the floor.

"I'm not, but I cant speak for our other guests!" Beren shouted as he seized on of the creatures, lifted it over his head and pitched it back into the mass of its fellows, carrying score of them to the bottom of the steps in a snapping hissing heap. Jocasta made a few more scratches then dropped the sword and began to chant. There was a sudden crunching sound followed by screams of agony the flow of monsters slacked but the screams of rage and pain redoubled.

"What did you..." Beren asked and peered over the barricade. The narrow corridor was now crisscrossed by ribbons of black insect carapace each one extended from a sword or spear tip to form a glittering lattice of sharpened chitin. The gundarogs at the rear of the pack were still trying to surge forward, unaware that their weight was forcing their companions into the net of blades in much the same way that cheese is forced against a greater. Within a few moments the panicked front ranks had turned their weapons on those behind them to avoid being forcibly dissected the internecine fighting continued for a minute or two before the penny dropped and the whole group of them fell back in snapping frothing fury.

"Why didn't you do that before?" Buri asked gruffly, cuffing blood from a superficial cut above his eyes.

"Maybe I just have a flare for the dramatic?" Jocasta suggested peevishly.

"Can they get through that?" Beren asked, partially interested, partially trying to diffuse an argument.

"If they have wizards, or they get hammers or something to break it out of the way," Jocasta admitted. Chitin wasn't really very strong, especially if you came at it laterally.

"But we might have a few minutes to catch our breath..."

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Let me know if you want any information for your posts.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

@nightmare medx You can absolutely find camera footage if you have an approach to one of the local bussinesses, if you decide to get it ill let you know what you find.

Also you can find traces of the black ooze along the alleyway but not beyond it.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

Also you are probably a little freaked out from that time someone cut her off in traffic and she grew a tail.

The Sunday Group - Seeds and Harvests

You are welcome to know as much or as little about each other as you like but you likely have some notion of everyone's capabilities. For instance you might or might not know Blythe is a demonhost but you would know some of the broad outlines of what she can do.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Emmaline appeared in the doorway a bottle of Brettonian wine in one hand and staff of bread in the other. She lifted the bottle to her lips and drank directly from the neck in what was doubtlessly a sin against good liquor. Her mouth twisted with distaste as she saw the corpse sprawled across the floor with its accompanying splash of gore and brains.

"That is going to ruin my floor," Emmaline complained petulantly.

"Your floor?" Neil asked in amusement. Emmaline made a gesture with the bottle that defied immediate interpretation. She opened her mouth as though to order Neil to remove the corpse but subsided before speaking at his arched eyebrow.

"Well... we can only stay her for a day or so," she admitted, "I suppose if we close the door he wont have time to stink the place up." Even as she said it the freshness of the corpse began to bother her, the murder could not have happened more than a few hours ago judging by the lack of rigor.

"I suppose at least we know it wasn't a beastman," she admitted, no beast man that she had ever heard of was sophisticated enough to use black powder weapons, even if they were looted from Imperials. She wondered who this man had been and why, when the staff and family were fleeing before a chaos invasion, someone had chosen to murder him in such a fashion.

"I'm going to go look for gold," she declared, taking another swig of wine.

"There is plenty of food in the larder, we can spend the night and stock up before we leave tomorrow." She was less sanguine about staying in the manor house with the dead man, but it was infinitely preferable to stumbling around in the woods at night with the beastmen on the prowl.

At The Edge of The World

Bemused, I watched Beren go. When I turned back to the window I was surprised to find a half dozen sparrows lined up on the windowsill. Another songbird had had landed infront of them, a red streak of feathers giving it the look of a sergeant leading a troop as it whipped its tail back and forth to correct the dressing of its feathered cohort.

"Alright, alright," I said throwing up my hands and wondering just what that strange diamond had done to me. The birds all took off in perfect formation and wheeled away into the afternoon sky, not exactly easing my concerns. Though I wouldn't have said no to some wine I wasn't particularly hungry so I stood up and headed back in the direction Beren had gone. As I reached the hallway a handful of adventurers lead by a woman exited, all but shouldering me aside. The woman didn't give me a second look, though several of her companions did look at me with frank appraisal. I wondered what business brought them to this place. Perhaps Beren would know, he certainly seemed to have the local connections here.

"Lady Emmaline Von Morganstern," a supercilious voice called from the door. I turned slightly to see an older man in elaborate servants livery that had been out of style for a decade back home. Judging by the sweat running down the fellows face, the layers of cream and scarlet wool was sweltering. He even wore a floured periwig, which must be at serious risk of insect infestation in this hellish climate. He held wax sealed paper in his hand and I surmised he was from the Enclave I had heard about earlier. Without conscious thought I ducked through the door before I could be recognized or pointed out. The likelihood was it was an invitation to some get together or another, a constant preoccupation of the nobility, particularly in such far flung outposts like this where a manufactured social scene was all that relieved the boredom. In any case, it never hurt to play a little hard to get.

I opened the door to the bath and looked in, letting out a low whistle at the mostly submerged Beren, my eyes dancing wickedly.

"Fancy meeting you here," I teased.