RPG on Skype

[Black Death]

only days I have off is Friday and Saturday ... I can roll if it those days

[Jennifer]

From the journal of Monette Clockwise

Difficult to write after all this time. A lot has happened.

Though I might wind up going home or staying in Triskellian. Had an offer from the city guard to join up with their academy, get sponsored through training, come out the other side with a qualification, a career. I can't say I wasn't tempted. Respectable, would have prospects.

But you know, I have my own way of doing things, my own style of fighting, such as it is. Would have hated to have to relearn how to do it all from the ground up, and Triskellian is a long way from home to commit to.

Was still thinking it over when I got a message from I'asaac. Meet him at the usual spot. Last time I took a job from him, I died. Made me wary.

Some of the others were there. Brother Bullivar, Talos, that squirrel, Flint, who still wouldn't say his name. His actual name, not the nickname I gave him. I'asaac wanted us to head on out to a nearby town, check up on a contact of his who he hadn't heard from in a while. I still hadn't really made up my mind about what I was doing, so I figured that hey, it wasn't far from Triskellian and if I decided to go home, it was in the right direction for Bisclavret.

So we set off with a wagon, headed to the township. Cosy place, probably got decent traffic from being along a road. Right away we noticed the monastery on the hill overlooking the town... turns out it was home to Pentient monks, whereas the people of the township were adherents of Hyperdulia. Still S'allumer either way, but a little odd to see them in such close proximity. Back home it's Orchomency all the way. Share and share alike. Love life, live it loud, live it with laughter. I don't know if I can still hold onto that. Can't find my smile any more.

The nightmares haven't stopped. Floating bones, shattered bodies, heads that spill blood. You. You. You. Haven't spoken about them to anyone because what's there to say? I'm having bad dreams? I can't forget about nearly dying, actually dying? I can't forget that I've killed people? They wanted to hurt me, would have done, same as the others... but I tore them apart. Gun and hands and feet. Maybe the nightmares are all I deserve.

Looked for clues of I'asaac's informant but we couldn't turn anything up. Decided to check the monastery out, seenas we'd already exhausted what we could find in the town for now. Worth having a look, right?

Door was locked. Knocked. No answer. Not normal, Bullivar tells us - monks are supposed to be the welcoming types. He gave me a boost and I climbed up the building's wall to a window, squeezed through.

Dead. Dead everywhere.

Someone had rampaged through here, tearing out throats, slaying monks left and right. The blood was so bright, glistening, making abstract patterns across floors, clothes, fur...

According to Bullivar some of the dead had the symbol of Eteignoirs, a heresy, scrawled all over them. They were responsible? Or...

We heard movement upstairs - a figure fled from us, scrambling out of a window. I jumped out onto the rooftops after them, gave chase. Talos charged down the stairs and joined me. The pursuit went on for some time as we tried to catch up, and eventually we ran them down. A squirrel. Tried to interrogate him, demanded to know what he was doing here - even pulled my gun on him. I was frustrated, angry. I wanted to see blood.

Flint mentioned our contact. Turned out the guy was Nael, I'asaac's nephew, of all things. Kept rambling about spirits and such. Beyond my understanding. He told us he'd head back to Triskellian and talk to his uncle, maybe give us a better idea of what's going on.

If the Eteignoirs come back, I'll be waiting. We'll see how well their skulls take bullets.

[Jennifer]

From the journal of Monette Clockwise

Everything turned into a bloody mess.

We let the township know what had happened to the monastery; obviously they were stunned, couldn't believe what had happened under their noses. We headed back up there in the morning to help with the funeral rites and take one last look around. I took a look through their ledgers; something didn't add up about what the monks had supposedly sold and what was actually in their gardens, but I didn't get the chance to follow up on the lead.

Bullivar attended to the dead with prayers and burial. Not sure how restful their slumber will be after dying like that.

Wasn't time to get philosophical. Beastmen attacked us on the route back to the town. It got brutal.

They cut down the townspeople
so
much
blood

We fought back, fire and blade and gun and fist. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Flint ran away. I took a bite to the shoulder. Bullivar struck a beastman's head off so hard that it hit one of his fellows.

We won, thought that was the end of it.

No.

Following day, Bullivar goes out of town. We spend some time keeping to our own devices. I check out the farms, trying to work out the problem with the ledgers. Flint and Talos do their own thing. Flint's been spending a lot of time with Nael. Wonder if there's something there.

Eventually we reconvene at night, Bullivar still hasn't made it home. That's a worry. He wouldn't just leave for a whole night without telling us, surely?

Hold the thought. More beastmen. Yes. More.

I took a dive straight out of the inn's window. Reckless, they're calling me now. But why not? Something needed to be done and I did it. People were dying out there, people that I could be protecting.

With force. With my own violence.

Once again we fought. I didn't even have time to don the scorpion's tail. Strange to just fight with my fists again, up until I swung a kick and kicked a beastman's head so hard into a wall that it cracked his skull.

Yes. That part I do remember.

They came several times in the night. We rebuffed them, somehow. I was wounded again. What's another? I do worse to others. Much worse.

Bullivar returned in the morning and things got muddled. Apparently the mayor had asked us if we wanted to hunt beastmen and we'd said no. We'd, of course, done nothing of the kind. Someone had wanted Bullivar out of the town, and they'd pulled the wool over his eyes to do so.

Answers. We wanted answers.

Nael had a lead for us. We headed for the mayor's estate - they were moving people out the back, it looked like. People covered in some kind of white sheets. The more I heard, the less I liked it.

I went on ahead while they were discussing things. Why must we always spend so much time talking instead of doing? While we were hanging around debating, our only point of information was getting away. I crested the hill behind the mayor's house and there they were... people from the village driving the sheet-people along, and at the front of them all, the mayor.

I played it off cool, tried to. It gave them some pause anyway, long enough for the others to show up. They'd caught Nael snooping, had him captive.

The interrogation went nowhere. Typical fox, thinking that noble blood means he's above anyone else. Would never get to throw his weight around like that back in Bisclavret. Bullivar invoked his church authority, the fox ignored it, the fox lied through his teeth.

I pointed my gun at his head and told him that my friend was getting impatient. Talos stopped me from shooting him right then and there... and then everyone pulled weapons.

Stupid. Stupid. Could have ended it, could have cowed all the others easily, if he'd just let me put a bullet in that man...

The sheet-people got away during the struggle, Nael took a knife in the side, went down. Under the sheet of one that got caught in the crossfire... an emaciated woman, looked like she'd been through a mill. That mayor...

We fought off the village-people. Fierce, but they weren't beastmen.

And I put.
My tail.
Through.
That fox's.
Throat.

Turns out nobles bleed just like anyone else. He had it coming. He deserved to die for what he'd done.

Not sure the others saw it that way. Found a letter on him addressed to a baron in Bisclavret - I recognised the name, Afligeant, been around a while. Suppose that's our next lead.

We tried to check out the mayor's place, but guards from the town happened by before we could make it beyond a weird hidden passage beneath the house. No evidence in our favour there, either. Bullivar wanted to turn ourselves into the authorities. I said screw that, but it took the guy being attacked before he'd finally back out. Myself? I kicked a guard in the crotch and ran.

Bisclavret. My country.

Afligeant's lands aren't far from Harrowgate.

Should I... visit home?

[Jennifer]

From the journal of Monette Clockwise

Harrowgate feels different. It's only been a few short months, but these same streets don't seem like they used to.

No. I've changed.

I went to the family shop. They replaced the big clock up above the entrance with a fancier one, though it probably would have been weirder if they hadn't changed part of the shopfront. Got to keep looking fresh in the arms race of Bisclavret commerce.

Father was there, bent over that workbench of his just like the day I left, messing with - what else? A clockwork watch. The little bell behind the door rang, and just like always, he called out that he would be there in a moment without even looking up.

I said hi.

He jumped up, fastest I've ever seen him move, crushed me in a huge hug, and then called for mother.

'Monette's home, Sibéal!'

He sounded so happy. I felt... numb.

I'd sent letters, of course, made sure to write, but there weren't a lot of couriers doing the route from Triskellian to Bisclavret, and what with how often I was out in the field, there wasn't always time. They wrote me back a couple times, making sure that I was okay, checking that I didn't need anything.

I never said all the details. I could see the worry in father's face when he took a look at me and saw the scars, saw the bandage still wound around my shoulder, where I got bitten by that damn beastman.

Mother sat me down and gave me The Look. Capitals. She wanted to know just what had been happening while I was away from home.

I was evasive. I let her know that I'd got into scrapes - several, really, but that much kind of went without saying, given all the injuries. I mentioned the bandits, what happened on the North Road. I withheld the Scorpion and the beastmen. I most definitely withheld what happened with the mayor. I think she believed me for the most part, was mostly all upset and worried that I'd been fighting when I was supposed to be doing research, maybe odd jobs. Got the guilt trip treatment... which I probably deserved; made me wonder what would have happened if I'd gone with the constabulary job after all.

Then father put his hands down on the table and asked the question.

'Monette, have you killed anyone?'

Mother was appalled, asked him what kind of question that was. I couldn't look him in the eye. Couldn't even answer. How are you supposed to respond to your father asking you straight out if you're a killer?

Because I am. Many times over. Sometimes not even because it was them or me, but because I could.

Silence said more than any number of words. Father just nodded, said 'I see', and then asked whether I was going to be staying, or if I was heading out again.

I told him enough. Mentioned that I was with some friends - neglected to mention what kind of friends, given how Adavists and mages are regarded around here. Said that I'd be staying a short while, but that I was in the middle of a job for a Professor back at the college in Triskellian. Made it suitably vague and suitably impressive sounding that I think he took it at face value. I'll have a chance to rest, clear my head, maybe practice a little with my two flintlocks.

I'm leafing through the pages of this journal right now, reading all the old entries, reading how... how I was when I started this thing out.

What am I going to wind up becoming?

Is it going to be something my parents can be proud of?

I don't know if I can answer that any more.

[T-Bonizzle]

SO

I was given a D&D campaign book for Christmas. Running it for you guys is a possibility. Anyone interested?

[Black Death]

depends on the day ... my hours are out of whack for least another month ... than it stable from there .

[Stoner]

What Edition?  And the only days I can't are Friday through Sunday.  Otherwise you know I'm down.

[T-Bonizzle]

5th edition, I received a mid-level campaign for Christmas.

[jagilki]

I'd be open almost any time.

[Black Death]

well . starting mid jan my days off go to sun and tues ... at the moment it  Saturday and Sunday  until jan 15 ...

you know I am down , just got to get the days right ... 

on second thought my shift does change to morning shift on the 15 of jan ... so when that happens , any night would be fine after 6 pm my time ...

[Black Death]

starting Jan 4 , my shift starts in the morning , so I can do an evening game ... so when do we want to get started

[T-Bonizzle]

It'll be after the New Year if we do it.

[Stoner]

So this is a thing: World Wide Wrestling Role Playing Game

I may or may not have bought and downloaded it.  And it may not be in this dropbox link...

https://www.dropbox.com/sh/l2vdur7ptfr55rr/AACQ6QGsERPGiLnUXfE9iq-La?dl=0

[T-Bonizzle]

Figure out how to run it and let's play!

[Stoner]

I've been reading it for a while since I got it.  It seems SUPER easy to play.

All dice rolls are 2d6.  You may or may not get a bonus based on the four stats in the game, and whether or not you have any momentum.  I definitely suggest downloading it and giving it a once over though.  I think Fast Action Grappling may be ready to return in a new format...