Zeroth

Why Were We Reincarnated as Orcs!?

@SubjectVision Thanks, same to you! Welcome aboard!

@Crusader Lord Will do, good to have you!

@Kazemitsu Another subject returns to grovel at the feet of the true Demon King! *laughs maniacally while posing*

@Unkown58 Yep, just in time! Welcome!

We are currently at NINE players interested, if my count's correct, so I'll be making the OOC and linking it here shortly!

EDIT: And it's up! roleplayerguild.com/topics/190247-why…

Why Were We Reincarnated as Orcs!?

If this is still open i'd love to join.

@Such A Birch

Yep, just started so come on in!

@ERode Welcome, welcome! I actually did debate whether or not to do goblins, but I figured Orcs have more of a "society" to play around with. That and I just really really liked the Nemesis system from the SoM/W games, lol.

GENERAL UPDATE: I'll get some work done on the Character Sheet after all the family Easter festivities have been taken care of!

EDIT: The Character Sheet info is up, along with an NPC who is both an example of the CS, as well as a peek of what a later Orc form and skills might look like!

Why Were We Reincarnated as Orcs!?

@Guy0fV4lor@King Cosmos@ReusableSword

My loyal subjects return! Hope you guys've all been well! Hopefully, this time I've got things streamlined out so I won't drive myself crazy keeping up with the Skills lol. It also helps that I've changed careers since the last time the Demon King summoned you all.

Hopefully we'll get some more interest soon, and I'll get to working on the CS!

Why Were We Reincarnated as Orcs!?

Orcs.

The ancient enemy of Elves, Dwarves, and Men alike. Why does it seem that every story told about these often brutal, oafish, or downright twisted mockeries of muscle and cruelty treats them as such a menace to all life around them?

Is it perhaps that, like every other Enlightened Race--those capable of forming their own societies, harnessing magic or technology, and sharing distinct cultures--they are bipedal pursuit predators, omnivorous (though perhaps with a preference for meat, and perhaps less emphasis on the preparation of foodstuffs than its consumption), and capable of altering their surroundings to suit themselves rather than relying on their natural adaptations? Does this biological niche simply force them into competition with every other creature that fulfills these same criteria?

Is it because they are prone to being rallied under the flag of an even greater evil who forces them to follow through sheer force or magical coercion, whether or not they will it so?

Is it because their cultures crave violence, or because their brains are less inclined to intellect? Are Orcs naturally born evil? If an Orc became good, would it cease to be an Orc?

Perhaps the answer is more simple. Perhaps Orcs are seen as a threat because of a singular ability, or as this particular World calls it...a Skill.

Ingestion - The ability to absorb certain types of Skills from a given amount of consumed biomass.

Every creature in this World possesses at least one Skill. The Enlightened Races are unique in their capacity to learn as many Skills as their lifetimes and efforts allow. The Demon Races, however--including everything from Greater Devils to the lowly Slime--merely draw Skills from a process of Inheritance, and their innate natures limit the amount or types of Skills they can use. Orcs, for instance, often Inherit the Skills [Berserk] and [Dusk Vision]...and [Ingestion] allows them to, much like the Enlightened, learn new Skills they would not normally have.

In addition to this, Orcs are one of the Demon Races with the most prolific Evolution Potential--that is, a young Orc Runt may show significant variance from the rest of their species by the time they reach adulthood, and adult Orcs may even evolve further into stronger Demons.

Theirs is a rough lot. Only the strongest and most capable have a chance of surviving--and even they will face danger from all sides. Can you imagine, Human, what it would be like to be reborn as an Orc?

How would you fare...?

---

Greetings, Runts! I'll be your friendly Demon King tonight!

---

In this RP, Players will take the role of characters from "our" world who have been ISEKAI'D during Truck-kun's latest rampage. Before they can truly pass on, however, it seems a force beyond human comprehension had the great idea to use their souls for an experiment: Are Orcs all that different from the other intelligent species they constantly find themselves battling? If members of those same species, such as say, Humans, suddenly somehow coincidentally became Orcs, what would happen?

Your journey, your decisions, and how or even IF your actions shape this world will provide the answers they seek.

I'm looking to cap this at between 7-10 players, for the sake of my own sanity. GM posts would likely occur on a once-per-week basis, most likely on weekends. The game would begin with the Players being soul-swapped into the bodies of several Orc Runts (you'll choose the specifics yourself, of course, during character creation) and awakening in a brand new world full of magic and fantasy. Players will "progress" through the game in typical Open-World-RPG fashion, building on the Skills they start with in various ways and, over time, possibly becoming something much greater than a simple Orc.

"But wait, Zeroth," I hear you say--And by the way, that's Zeroth-Dai-Maou-Sama to you!--"What's an Orc Runt? What kind of Orcs are we even talking about--Tolkien's? Blizzard's? Da Boyz!?" So here's a quick rundown:

Orcs and Progression

In this setting, Orcs are one species within the umbrella of the "Demonic Races." Many Demons have the ability to Evolve, such as a Goblin who becomes a Hobgoblin. Evolution, Level Ups, etc in this strange LitRPG-verse are determined by a collection of factors like age, experience, environmental pressures, and so forth. Orc culture divides their hierarchies in a similar manner. Their skin tones range, based on their habitat and tribal heritage, across mostly earth tones of green and brown, occasionally producing an orange or a blue here and there, sometimes with mottled textures, stripes, what have you. They tend towards a more primitive mirror of early human cultures, typically not showing a lot of metalwork, agriculture, or industry unless they've been particularly successful in establishing their territory or have found themselves a rich pool of natural resources to draw from (or, you know, stolen it from someone else).

An Orc Runt is functionally the "childhood stage," between 3 and 4 feet tall on average and roughly equivalent to an Adult Goblin in ability--indeed, the strongest forms of Goblinoid may be capable of Evolving into Orcs themselves. The faster a Runt learns how to survive, and the more resources and power they accrue, the faster they'll move to the next stage in their lives--something that holds true at every stage.

From here the ladder progresses to the Orc Grunt (2 Images here btw), also known as the "Good Runt," the largest and hardest to control part of any Orc army. Then they become an Adult Orc, (2 more images) gaining roughly a foot in height and other things like muscle mass, body development, etc at each stage. From here, they may take on different roles within the tribe like Warriors, Scouts, and so forth. The Orc Brutes and Shamans are the apex of prime Orc specimens, and beyond that...Well, you'll just have to find out, won't you?

As an Orc Runt, Players would all start the game with the following Skills:

• 1. Ingestion - After consuming a required amount of biomass from a particular Creature, 1 of that Creature's Skills can be copied at its lowest Rank.
• 2. Isekai Skill - Based on the Player's past life, chosen by them from among a pre-set of Skills I will list.
• 3. Empty Slot
• 4. Empty Slot

But, with any luck, you won't be a "runt" for long! As Players reach certain milestones (such as defeating enemies, surviving and thriving within the world, completing quests given by NPCs) they will "Level Up," which won't have anything to do with stats or rolling dice but will rather unlock new Skills, new Skill Slots, new Evolution options, and so forth! This is meant to serve to help Players self-motivate, as only by pushing the limits of what this new world has to offer them will they be able to take their rightful place as OP Isekai Protagonists!

If you didn't read the run-down, or you're still not clear on the flavor of Orcs I'm going for, here's some references to various other works that have inspired this RP that will hopefully instill the "atmosphere" I want:

• Shadow of Mordor/War
• Skyrim
• Re: Monster
• Goblin Slayer (but not QUITE so brutal and grimdark)
• Slime Tensei (but not QUITE so sugar sweet and happy)

"And what about these Skills, then?" I now pretend to hear you ask! "Skills" in this RP simply refers to the "special moves," "magic spells," or other terms for unique feats, traits, and so forth Players and NPCs alike can use to try and accomplish their goals. Something like The Legend of Zelda's [Spin Attack], a Dragon's [Fire Breath] and so on. They'll consist of both magic and melee, actives and passives, all that jazz. Once a Skill is gained by Ingestion or any other method, its Rank can be increased to make it more powerful or versatile. Much like Skyrim, practice makes perfect--but don't think your character can just spam the Skill willy-nilly and level up without any further effort! Diminishing returns, the inherent dangers of the skills themselves, and...maybe some unforeseen side effects...will quickly put a kibosh on that!

In addition to all this, there will be a grand world full of other species to slaughter discover, civilizations to conquer explore, and all sorts of other fun stuff I've spent quite a bit of time preparing! So, feel free to field me any of your own questions or concerns, but I have just ONE left for YOU!

---

Would You Be Interested?

---

Character Sheet Information:
Feel free to change the aesthetics, colors, formatting codes, etc if you like to spruce up your CSs! Also, it's completely optional, but consider adding a Theme Song somewhere in there!

Non-Code, Explanation

[Insert Character Appearance Here]

Name: Feel free to include your past name, the name of the Orc you've swapped places with, or even an "Orcish" name your character chooses for themselves.

Current Stats: Use the List tags or some other nice formatting, and remember to update this as the RP goes along. At the beginning of the game, it'll look something like this:
Level: 1 | Form: Orc Runt | Tier: 2

Level is just like it would be in most other RPGs. Form is the species or subtype of creature you currently are. Tier is the rough measure of that creature's potential on the "evolutionary spectrum." For reference, a Slime, a Goblin, a Dire Rat, etc would all be Tier 1 Creatures, and an Adult Orc is a Tier 3.

Current Skills: The List tags are strongly preferred here. Everyone starts with 4 Slots, one of which is [Ingestion] as described in the opener. Once your character's draft has been looked over, I'll give you a list of Skills you can choose from based on your character's past life that'll carry over and you can edit that in.

Equipment and Inventory: Orcs have a tendency to carry whatever they find useful on their person at all times, often wearing numerous belts and pouches made of rough leathers or plant materials. Keep track of it here. You can start with the following items, and use them as an example to describe things you'll obtain in the future:

• (Item's Name) Swaddling Pelts - (Item's Category) Equip, Clothes - (Item's Description) Old animal skins used to keep an Orc baby warm as they sleep. Once the Runt is old enough to start hunting, these are usually just enough to cover the parts that need the most covering.
• Wooden Stick - Equip, Weapon/Tool, Material Component - A wooden stick. From a tree. That's...that's all there is to it. Can be thrown.
• Sharp Rock - Equip, Weapon/Tool, Material Component - A rock with a slightly sharp edge. Useful as a primitive knife or chisel. Can be thrown.

True Age: Whatever your character's name was pre-Truck-kun, plus about 5 months. That's how long it takes newborn Orc Runts to mature to the point they can freely hunt for themselves.

Past Life: Give us a synopsis of what you went through before Truck-kun ended it all. By the way, it doesn't LITERALLY have to be Truck-kun that Isekai'd you. Maybe you passed from illness, or violence, or any number of things. But who were you, before all this? And how will it color your perspective on this new chance at life you've been granted?

New Life: As the game goes on, you'll likely find it useful to record important events that happened here. It's definitely recommended that you keep track of your Evolutions, and major Skill Upgrades. For instance, something like:

Day 1, Orc Runt > Day 10, Orc Grunt Variant
Day 5, [Fire Bolt] > [Flame Lance]

And so forth. Use it like a quest log or journal as well if you want.

Code

[img]Insert Character Appearance Here[/img]

[u][b]Name:[/b][/u]

[u][b]Current Stats:[/b][/u]
Level: [b]1[/b] | Form: [b]Orc Runt[/b] | Tier: [b]2[/b]

[u][b]Current Skills:[/b][/u][list]
[*][b]Ingestion[/b] - [i]After consuming a required amount of biomass from a particular Creature, 1 of that Creature's Skills can be copied at its lowest Rank.[/i]
[*][b]Isekai Skill[/b] - [i]Not Yet Chosen[/i]
[*]Empty Skill Slot
[*]Empty Skill Slot[/list]

[u][b]Equipment and Inventory:[/b][/u][list]
[*][b]Swaddling Pelts[/b] - Equip, Clothes - [i]Old animal skins used to keep an Orc baby warm as they sleep. Once the Runt is old enough to start hunting, these are usually just enough to cover the parts that need the most covering.[/i]
[*][b]Wooden Stick[/b] - Equip, Weapon/Tool, Material Component - [i]A wooden stick. From a tree. That's...that's all there is to it. Can be thrown.[/i]
[*][b]Sharp Rock[/b] - Equip, Weapon/Tool, Material Component - [i]A rock with a slightly sharp edge. Useful as a primitive knife or chisel. Can be thrown.[/i][/list]

[u][b]True Age:[/b][/u]

[u][b]Past Life:[/b][/u]

[u][b]New Life:[/b][/u]

NPC Example

WARCHIEF

Name: Agronak

Current Stats:
Level: 18 | Form: Adult Orc (Warrior) | Tier: 3

Current Skills:

• Ingestion - Unranked -After consuming a required amount of biomass from a particular Creature, 1 of that Creature's Skills can be copied at its lowest Rank.
• Berserk - Rank II - Orc Inheritance. At the cost of suppressing one's intellect and awareness of their surroundings, an Orc enters a savage fury that increases their physical strength and numbs their sensitivity to pain. Lasts 1 minute.
  • At Rank II, physical speed is also increased, though reflexes and perception remain unenhanced.
• Dusk Vision - Rank II - Orc Inheritance. One's eyes need less light to see by, allowing them to see normally in dim light conditions and half as well in darkness so long as it is not completely black. Color perception is half as accurate in dim light, and in darkness the perception of color is lost. This Skill does not apply to other vision-related Skills.
  • At Rank II, color perception is returned fully in dim light.
• Danger Scan - Rank I - Ingested Skill. Detect non-living threats within 10 feet, such as hazardous terrain, traps, etc. Remain acutely aware of them for 1 minute.
• Slash - Rank I - Ingested Skill. Powerful Bladed attack to enhance a weapon or claws, etc.
• Windsprint - Rank II - Ingested Skill. Increase Speed for 30 seconds.
  • At Rank II, the skill can maintain Rank I speed for 1 minute.

Equipment and Inventory:

• Reinforced Leathers - Equip, Armor - A fur lined jacket, a set of faulds, and pants made from leathers and layered with bits of metal plating and spikes. The leather is of rough quality and the metal is low quality iron.
• Old Iron Boots - Equip, Armor - A pair of boots plated with iron sabatons, shin guards, and an attached knee pad. The iron is of low quality and the boots are well-worn.
• Iron Greataxe - Equip, Weapon/Tool - A large axe requiring two hands to wield, even for those who are proud of their strength. It is a sturdy, if unaesthetic weapon. Can be used to fell trees without too much damage to the blade.
• Steel Dagger - Equip, Weapon/Tool - A well-made knife of good quality steel. It holds an edge much better than iron and is somewhat lighter. Long enough to kill a man, useful enough to clean game or most other tasks for a knife.
• Treasure Pouch - Storage Item - Agronak's treasure pouch. Only he and the person who takes it from him will know its contents.

True Age:
14 Years

Past Life:
The Warchief of the Players' tribe. He has only recently attained his position, and killed the previous Chief when they had already started to grow old and past their prime. His challenge was legitimate and followed all the required rules, but there are still murmurings that "he could have never beat the Chief in the ol' days," and Agronak sees this as a black mark on his pride as a warrior. Thus, he has a heavy hand towards insubordination and is trying to get the tribe ready for a big raid or fight of some kind where he can really prove himself as their leader.

New Life:
Orc Runt > Orc Grunt > Adult Orc, became Warrior

Echoes of a Moonless Night

Kyozan

Between a Fire and a Hard Demon...Wait no not like that--

---

“Hrm. So it’s one of those types that just squish when you try to flatten them…” Kyozan grumbled as he fell. Then the blob sent several tendrils careening towards him, and he snarled. The first one to lunge at him was sliced to pieces with one sweep of his claws, and he went into a spin through the air. The next tried to wrap around his waist, but was met with his iron grip then bitten in two–this time, he spat out the foul tasting substance. A third seemed less like an octopus tentacle and more like a mass of human hands growing more hands on the end of its fingers. This one Kyozan kicked away with a blow strong enough to burst it like a balloon–but he had no more leverage in the air, and the tendrils were all around him now. One wrapped his ankle and pulled him back through all the twists and turns it had made, only in reverse, before slamming him into the earth near the reformed hive. The others lashed to him–his wrists, his knee, and one managed to get around his torso like a shoulder strap. But still the Rakshasha’s sheer muscle kept him upright as he roared his defiance.

A surge of spiritual energy seemed to distract literally every being in the park for an instant. Kyozan stopped wrestling at the same time the giant grudge-mother stopped trying to strangle him, and he looked at the rather voluptuous “new” ally that had appeared. This was the Resonance technique that had replaced the old school of Familiar Contracts? Was it always so…tantric, in nature? Not that he minded that idea, necessarily…

Sato-squared told him to keep the giant blob from running away, and he started to ask what was going to make it run, if it hadn’t already fled from the mere sight of himself? But when the fused woman released her flames, he saw through the strategy to cut off its movement.

And sure enough, when the writhing creature tried to get away from those encroaching flames…it would find itself anchored to the spot by a tall demon, pulling on its tendrils with every muscle in his huge body as taut as piano wire. Veins and sinew bulged beneath Kyozan’s skin as he cackled.

“What’s the matter, coward?! Got yourself caught when you tried so hard to catch me!?” He let out a warcry, and twisted with all his might. His feet cracked craters as he sank into the earth under all the weight, but he dragged the Grudge Hive right back into the heart of the flames. Kyozan closed his eyes and concentrated…

---

Mika

Prep Phase

---

”It only deforms against blunt attacks! Can you cut it from a distance?!”

Mika opened her eyes as she nodded. Her partner would feel her affirmation even if they couldn’t see each other. Still watching the laptop screen for any changes, she flipped open her bag and drew out a standard sized notebook and a calligraphy pen. As she gathered energy, the notebook floated open in front of her and its pages began to flutter as if turned by the breeze.

“Keep fighting, Kyo-chan! Something that can travel over that distance will take me a bit!” She whipped her pen across the pages, the pink tip of her tongue poking out as she concentrated. Whenever she completed a sigil, she placed her hand on the paper sheet. It separated itself from the booklet, and began to orbit around her. One sheet at a time, she began to build something that seemed like…a paper airplane? But it was more like paper-mache than a single folded sheet from a notebook. Its shape, too, began to resemble something like a stealth bomber–a continuous straight edge in a V shape over its nose and wings…

“Kamigetsu-Ou!” She recited, pen and hands still working in tandem. “Great Sparrow Sword…”

Echoes of a Moonless Night

Mika

Please Don't Break, Please Don't Break

---

“Eh? Wa-wait, I’m not–!” Left with the laptop, Mika had not expected to find herself so quickly face to face with one of her great nemeses–technology. She could manage the basics, of course, but being from an old fashioned family out in the countryside and having a…somewhat different…upbringing from many of her peers, she had never quite caught on to all the latest media trends. She looked from side to side as if expecting someone to take the burden off of her…but with Kaeru, Nyoko, and both Satos gone, it seemed like she had no other options. She approached the device with all the caution of one whose home only contains plastic plants when asked by a friend to care for their prized azaleas.

Okay. Okay, she could do this. She didn’t have to touch any buttons, did she? The screen didn’t look that bad. The large image was clearly a map of the park. That other window in the corner seemed to be displaying several…charts? Wavelengths? Some kind of data being measured? Could spiritual energy be analyzed by non-magical means? It certainly seemed to be peaking in regards to the large mass at the park’s center. Mika furrowed her brows and leaned closer.

This wasn’t like the torii gateway of a sacred site, was it? Or a demon’s personal domain, where their powers could alter the surroundings inside their lairs? Was this a passage that the Grudges were coming through, or some kind of giant “mother” Grudge that was spawning the others? Either way, it had to be destroyed–research could come later.

“Kyo-chan, destroy it!” she ordered, holding one hand in the rin seal to direct her thoughts through their link. His answer was immediate,

Don’t gotta tell me twice!

---

Kyozan

I'm Gonna Break It

---

He slashed and bludgeoned his way through the enemy, roaring with centuries of pent up fury. But the Raskhasa pulled back in surprise for an instant as ghostly hands lunged from the earth to grapple with the Grudge’s limbs. Though the amorphous beings tried to escape by shifting in a variety of ways, the grasping hands waved like grass in the field wherever they went. Kyozan lunged with his claws outstretched–

“Ha! If you pathetic wretches can’t even escape spirits of that level, I should’ve just–!”

And immediately tripped to slam face first into the dirt, his huge frame completely stretched out flat. He could almost hear a certain feline femme’s purring laughter as the ghostly hands released his legs. His own throat let out a rumbling growl–but when he lifted his face up, he had a wry smile and licked his lips.

“I shall play with you later.” He muttered. While he climbed back to his feet, the other Contracted pair joined the battle. That tall human woman packed a surprising stiff punch, and her demon followed it up with flames that blew apart the rest of the Grudge’s head. As Kyozan resumed carving his swathe of destruction, Suzume asked him if he knew what they were looking for–and not a moment later, he received a message from Mika. The image flashed in his head, and he leaped up to the top of a nearby swingset. As the metal creaked under his bulk, he peered over the dark throng and saw the larger, pulsating mass from whence they came.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice!” He looked down at the crowd again–given how much space he’d cleared, the cat’s restraints, and the fiery female pair, he didn’t think they’d have any trouble with the remaining Grudges. And all the mewling human peasants had been evacuated. So now he could really cut loose!

Kyozan leaped as high as he could, straight up–and then, as if kicking off the air, he flickered away like a black-and-blue flame through the sky. As he lost speed his form reappeared some distance over the crowd, but now he fell at an angle towards that disgusting hive.

“Behold my wrath!” he said, followed by a maniacal, howling laughter. He raised one clenched fist, and an enormous ball of azure fire blossomed over his shoulder. As he fell, accelerated once more by gravity, the mass of spiritual power took the form of an enormous fist. “Rokusho-Ken!”

The disembodied limb, easily bigger than Kyozan himself, hurtled down at the black mass with incredible force…

Fallout: Montana (Accepting new characters)

A Lotta Talkin'

---

Town Hall
Whitlash
The next to enter the Hall was the Ghoul, and Walker noted the man's own position across the way. Far as he could tell, he and Sam Smith shared a lot in common--"old men" by everyone else's definition, wanderers who simply stumbled into town one day and then stuck around. And he had seen the mutant hit a crack shot more than once...but then, the way the rumors went, he'd had over a hundred years to practice. Walker felt confident that he'd gotten just as good in less than half the time. But other than that...

He'd never let it show, and thus far hadn't said anything. But to be perfectly honest...Walker thought of Ghouls like time bombs. So far as he knew, they always went Feral. It was just a matter of when. And anyone who claimed they weren't disgusted with the mutants' looks were lying to themselves out of social virtue, in the old Texan's point of view. Sure, it didn't mean you had to treat the man any different...but human beings had a tendency to avoid or feel uncomfortable around stuff like that for a reason. So, when he couldn't help thinking like that...it seemed the more polite and honorable thing to just avoid Sam where he could, and keep interactions short when he couldn't.

More of the Mormons entered the old church as well, filtering between the pews. Aside from them, Walker saw Eliza take a back row seat in front of Sam. When she pulled out the .45 and swiftly checked the safety, Walker once again admired the weapon. Not enough people really knew how to take care of their equipment anymore, at least not like the girl did. Wherever she was from, she'd clearly been trained and educated. The same was true of Elijah, who came close to blocking the doorway as he placed a hand on his weapon. Walker mentally took back his last thought about the man's education, and blew out the edges of his mustache. No need to put hands on a gun if you weren't about to draw--the last thing they needed in this crowded little matchbox was for someone to get jumpy or an itchy trigger finger.

Raven, and those three dunderheads he called a "militia," were next through the doors. Alexander, the northerner whom Walker suspected had just come back from a patrol, also took up a position on the wall like many of the others but not at the back of the room. Instead he posted up about halfway across the room. Whitlash had accrued itself quite a little posse for itself over the past few years...a lot of combat experience, it seemed, for a little out of the way gaggle of farmsteaders.

Finally, Mayor Nicholas and that little croney of his, Johnathan, climbed onto the podium. After a quick and pointless thanks and assurance that they had, indeed, rung the bell for a reason, the fisherman got to the reason.

Dammit, shoulda bet somebody. Would've won the caps. Walker rolled his mouth as if he were going to spit, but held back for the sake of the old church's floorboards.

So Raiders had captured one of the outlying facilities Whitlash operated, along with everyone working in it--including one of Nicholas's daughters. When Walker heard that, his lip curled and his nose wrinkled...like a dog with its hackles up. In his mind, an old scene played out--

A little girl was screaming. He was trying to get through the door--it finally gave way with a vicious kick. Smoke was starting to fill the house. He saw the man standing over the girl and cocked the hammer back--

His name was called, snapping the man out of his flashback. Somehow, he was able to replay what Nicholas had said despite disassociating for a moment. So the mayor wanted him, and some of these other rag-taggers, to take on the Helena Raiders Legion? Walker had heard of a Legion before, but for some reason these didn't seem like the same varmints. The rest of the town was told to disperse--but Walker had an iffy feeling about things.

Nick should've called our names from the get-go, then told the rest of 'em to leave without any more details. What if someone from the town decided to try and play hero, or do something else equally stupid and risky? What if the Raiders had a man or woman on the inside? Or some thick browed idiot decided they wanted to run away from home and live the criminal life, and decided to give the Raiders a heads-up as a way of ingratiating themselves to the gang?

Well, he was stuck in it now. Best to pay attention. The mayor outlined the rest of the situation, and again Walker rolled his mouth. His eyes never left the map from the moment it was unrolled, as he committed every squiggle to memory. That was something else he was proud of, at his age...although it also made sleeping difficult, some nights when the memories he didn't want decided to pop back up...

When Nicholas asked if there were any questions, Walker knew it was going to open a damn flood gate. Conor wanted to know the enemy's numbers--a smart question, but one that Walker imagined would be useless. Even if Nicholas had a scout or two setting eyes on the factory, they were apparently dealing with a "legion" of Raiders. This group might be able to call reinforcements--or said numbers might've already arrived. Any report they were liable to get couldn't be treated as gospel, only speculation. And you could spend all day speculating and never get anywhere.

Elijah was confident--too confident, for Walker's taste. And he immediately laucnhed into a plan for a stealth operation. The Texas didn't like the repairman's body language; like Elijah already felt in charge of the situation.
Then Sam chimed in, in his gravelly voice. Walker's brow furrowed. He understood the point the Ghoul was making--but felt like Sam had it backwards. Raiders weren't the type to keep to deals, and sure as hell wouldn't give up the hostages and leave first. To Walker's mind, if they did give in to the thugs' demands and deliver food, supplies, and so forth, the raiders would simply take the hostages with them until they were far enough away to escape pursuit, then release the hostages to run back home. And that was only best case scenario. Given Walker's experience...the Raiders would just take everything and demand more.

The whole "kill 'em all," bit, though, that he liked. And even the staked bodies part. The Ghoul's methods were as gristly as his face, but that didn't have to be a bad thing.

Raven wanted to know about the Raiders' weapons, armor, and tactics. Again, smart questions--if somebody worth a damn would teach these boys, Whitlash wouldn't be short on leader-types. But having too many chiefs and not enough indians would be a problem in itself. Then, though, the conversation turned to soemthing about drugging the food, sniping, negotiations, and then Walker tuned it out.

"Stop." said the old man, raising his voice in a loud growl for the first time that morning. He looked at the others, then directed his gaze at Nicholas. "Who's leading?"

If there wasn't a leader, someone to say "ten hut!" and have the rest snap to attention, then this whole damn thing would turn into arguing over the best way to do the same damn things over and over. Whether all these different suggestions were feasible or not--Walker had no idea where Raven expected to get a damned "delayed action sedative" in a podunk town where the closest thing to a hospital was a tent full of Mormons--was one thing, whether their group could agree on who got to do what was another, and Walker didn't have the time or patience to put it all to a vote.

Neither did those hostages at the factory.

Echoes of a Moonless Night

Kyozan | Mika

Assignment Understood

---

@Rune_AlchemistKaeru responded playfully to Mika with a cheeky grin as he introduced himself and his partner. Kyozan noticed the nekomata's intense stare, which her master tried to wave away with her earlier antics. Maybe that was the case--and maybe not. The Rasetsu chuckled suggestively as the cat protested.

"Maybe she's just looking for someone to scratch under her chin, eh?" A prompt *slap* from Mika's side echoed in the vehicle's limited space.

Luckily, their transport lurched to a stop in the parking lot. Suzume moved and talked like a real professional, immediately earning the Aomori heir's attention. Kyozan watched Lily as she activated her charming magic, displaying a great deal of fine-tuned control to draw the fleeing civilian's attention. Interesting, that an ability meant to make slaves and willing partners of Humans could be used this way...Was this how the Youkai of this era managed to "fit in" to Human society?

"Nakanishi, Nyoko... honestly, try not to invite yourself next time, but you know what to do; keep the grudges away from civilians." Nyoko leaped out of the van and stretched her legs, which Kyozan observed eagerly with his thumb and forefinger on his chin. Before he could appreciate the invention of "dolphin shorts," however, Mika curled up in her seat before slamming both feet into the small of the demon-man's back. He grunted as he allowed himself to be propelled out of the vehicle, and as his own feet stomped the ground like a wrestler taking position he heaved a deep breath. Blue fire once again outlined his form as his muscles swelled and joints cracked, restoring him to his full height.

"New hires... well, I don't know what you can do," their driver admitted with a shrug. "Priority is to keep people safe first, then exterminate the Grudges. Don't get tunnel-visioned into killing them before we know if we missed someone." Kaeru, too, warned them not to "cut loose" too much...before saying something about raising the dead?

"Aruji, these modern standards confuse me."

"For once I'm as lost as you are." Mika tossed her hair with a sigh as a light tension built up around her temples. "I'm hoping the Nekomata's ability doesn't require fresh corpses." She opened her schoolbag and withdrew a binder, before speaking to Suzume.

@Raineh Daze"I can create a barrier around us, so that we have a safe fallback--and a place to render first aid!" The last part she called out more loudly, so that Lily could hear her and guide any injured civilians to them if need be. Four ofuda tags, bearing graceful calligraphy, were drawn from the binder and clutched between her fingers like playing cards. As Mika closed her eyes for a moment as if in prayer, her Ether--or "Ki" as Kyozan had known it in the old days, before this strange "science,"--began to ripple across her body. An unseen breeze lifted the girl's hair, and when she opened her eyes again the power within them flashed.

"My orders, Aruji?" Kyozan stepped up alongside her, slamming his giant fist into an equally big palm.

"Make sure no Grudge escapes the park." spoke his contractor, before she tossed the tags into the air. As they circled her once, then darted off in four directions, so too did Kyozan charge towards the gentle green hills now dotted with amorphous monstrosities. A wild, maniacal grin split his features. Behind him, Mika performed a swift series of hand seals.

"When the world was born
Desolate and chaotic
Heaven and Earth split."

The four tags attached themselves to the asphalt on the lot, forming a perfect square with the team's car at its center and a sizeable space on each side--a large enough footprint for a small scale medical tent. Each one burst into a flame, with four different colors: Black, sea-green, purple, sky-blue. A dazzling scarlet flame took shape in front of Mika as well, as the centerpoint of the shape.

The first shapeless mass of hatred turned its attention away from the terrified Humans, towards a large source of spiritual energy that began to collect nearby. White, empty eyes, unstable in their shapes like the mass within a lava lamp, peered out of a wide circle made from a mire of black mud. But another large mass of power was heading directly towards it--the other Grudges, too, began to twist their hideous forms as their noxious forms salivated. When they felt killing intent, their limbs curled into blades and bludgeons.

"Kyozan No Rasetsu shall join the fray! Let me taste your blood!" roared the demon as he spread his arms.

"Mountain, Sea, Wind, Rain, And Flame!
Amahara Seiritsu!"

With the completion of the renga, Mika spread her arms and a ripple of power pulsed outward from her. A shimmering barrier, colored like paper thin amethyst, shot up from the four tags and converged as a sharp-edged, solid cube over them all. As each pieces locked into place, the barrier became thicker, stronger. The eerie feeling even non-spiritually sensitive humans got from the Grudges--like a prey animal aware of the predator in the brush--was cut off immediately as if by a knife, and even sound outside the force field seemed muted. Through the translucent screens they could still see everything, as if through a TV with an improper color balance.

"Our side...can pass freely!" Mika put her hands on her knees as she panted. "But nothing else, haah, aaah, should get through!" With four tags to draw ambient Ether from the environment, a full recital, and the power she could draw from Kyozan, this barrier should prove self sustaining against any attack...unless she had greatly underestimated their opponent. But no--she clenched her fists in her skirt, and forced herself to stand up straight. This barrier was just...a precaution.

Her Guardian would not allow any of the beasts near them.

---

Bloodshed

---

The first Grudge leaped at him much the way any human would, but rather than swinging a fist or sword it thrust forward an arm that had become a thick, deadly lance covered in barbs. Kyozan leaned to one side and the cruel weapon passed under his arm, inches from his ribs. From his great height, the overhand haymaker came down like a meteor. The creature tumbled across the ground like a ragdoll, but its brothers were undeterred. Their shapes took on new forms even as they attacked him with abandon.

A head burst open like rotten fruit to release numerous tentacles, each tipped with a pendulum-shaped blade. Kyozan's hand shot out and grabbed the tendrils like catching a nest of snakes. As the next leaped into the air, its arms and torso shrinking to produce long legs with ankles shaped like halberds, the blue ogre yanked his prisoner in front of himself. The axe kick split his body shield in half--and lined them both up perfectly.

"DOSUKOI!" The demon man's palm shot out with the force of a battering ram, and the impact rippled through both Grudges before blowing a hole through their backs. Both began to dissolve into mist, and Kyozan flexed his claws as he turned to a small group of the creatures. "Weaklings! You call yourselves demons!?" As if he were ripping the very air itself apart he swept his talons at them. "Tanban-Kugi!"

Like a whip his spiritual energy followed the lashing arm, and multiple cerulean blades materialized. They whistled through the air before tearing more of the Grudges to shreds. Before the bodies hit the ground Kyozan had leaped in among them again, crushing a foe underfoot before grabbing another and using it like a club against its brethren. After smashing it against the earth for good measure, the monstrous Guardian opened his fangs wide and took an enormous bite out of the creature's shoulder, actually severing its arm as he tore away his vile mouthful. Moments later he grimaced as black ooze ran down his chin.

"You don't even taste good! Where's the fun in this!?" In his wrath, he launched the corpse over his shoulder. It collided with Mika's barrier like a fly hitting a windshield--or a bug zapper, considering the energy that repelled what remained with a sound like crackling flame.

Fallout: Montana (Accepting new characters)

My Empire of Dirt

---

Walker's Farm
Whitlash

A blade bit the earth with a hungry crunch, chewing the dirt in a mindless rhythm. The hoe swept the little pile of pebbles and sand to one side, shaking it out over evenly spaced mounds. Crunch. Atop the mounds, tall stalks of corn shivered in the chill morning breeze. The sun would soon warm them, but only a few sparse golden ears would receive the life giving light this late into the season, maturing just in time for one last harvest. Still, the fields had been kept free of weeds and Mole-Rats all this time, no matter the yield. Crunch.

Walker paused when he reached the end of the row, leaning one elbow on the hoe as he turned to look over his handiwork. A half-acre of corn, the mutant hybrid fruit known as tatos, the modified Razorgrain wheat, and carrots stretched between him and a quaint little farmhouse. This was his home, now, and one could see by the orderliness of the rows, the trimmed bushes and a single pruned Mutfruit tree that he spent a great deal of time taking care of the place. He had never understood why, more than a century after the bombs dropped, so many houses still looked like collapsing, half-rotted trash heaps. Over the last five years, he'd taken an axe to the plentiful forests around Whitlash--a single solid oak could get you well over a hundred board-foot of lumber--and by hand split, sawed, and sanded enough planks, posts, and trim to replace parts of the porch, the stairs, the floor, and a big hole in one of the walls. With slaked limestone and a few bits and bobs, he'd whitewashed the whole thing too--after a good, thorough scrubbing, and sweeping out all the dead leaves and piles of refuse. Sure, maybe the average folk--except maybe Vault Dwellers--didn't have education or proper tools much anymore...but why not just learn things the old fashioned way, through trial and error?

Too busy surviving, probably. On that thought, Walker spat and picked up his hoe again. But before the crunch, he heard a new sound...the rumble of a truck, coming back from the river. The leather-skinned man watched them from beneath the patched rim of his old hat. Ol' Nicholas don't usually come back that quick... Then again, they didn't need as much fish as the "mayor" usually hauled back anymore--with the last harvest on the horizon, the farmers didn't need as much Indian-style fertilizer. Walker thought it wasteful, but who was he to deny someone their hobbies? He knew perfectly well the need to take one's mind off things--and with that thought, he spat again.

Not long after he started down the next row, crunching away, he heard the truck stop near the town hall. He also heard that dang-blasted generator start up. Walker was as carnivorous as the next red-blooded American, but he didn't know why David insisted on using that fuel-drinkin', noise-makin', foul-smellin' contraption instead of salting or smoking his kills. Nonetheless, he continued to plough. Best not to concern himself with what other folk did or didn't do. Best to just take care of his own, as best he could. His own little farm, his own little house, his own rickety, no-good, little-older-every-day self...

His empire of dirt. Best to just take care of it...because no matter how much he'd like to trade it, no price could soothe the hurt...

---

Town Hall
Whitlash

A few hours later, Walker entered the town hall among the rest of the townsfolk. David, still covered in blood, sat up front with a sour look on his face. Had the hunt not gone well after all? The boy could've at least dunked himself or wiped off before he came over. Another young fella, Conor, stood near a row of seats with a book in hand--no, not a book, the Book. Good, at least he had the right one this time. But that meant the rest of those Mormons couldn't be far behind him. Walker's lip curled, but he took off his hat as he crossed the threshold and took the sweaty handkerchief off his neck, hastily shoving it into a back pocket. Unlike the missionary who wanted for others to be seated, and the hunter who wanted to be right at the front of the action, Walker moved to a corner at the back of the hall and stood against it with his arms crossed. From here he had a good view out of the windows on one side of the building as well as the whole of the interior--and anyone who walked through the doors, while they might not see Walker himself unless they turned their heads. Most would probably be offput by his silence and expression. Some of the more experienced folk, who had seen a gunfight or two in their lives, might also realize the significance of such a position.

If I had the caps to bet, it's Raiders... The old man tapped his foot. He needed to start taking his late-night walks again--even after all these years, he couldn't let himself get complacent.

Fallout: Montana (Accepting new characters)

<Snipped quote by Zeroth>
Yeah thats fine. Small question, would the offer to have a coffee be earnest or "trolling" the lad if discernible? (If you weren't aware, Mormons aren't allowed to drink caffeine).

@Bugman

Earnest and ignorant, if he were told such Walker's response would be to raise an eyebrow, then add "...Whiskey?"

XD