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[Wednesday August 25th, 1875]

The problem with the wells at Hope’s Water did have something to do with the demonic, but it was little more than an irate Naiad complaining about horse manure stinking up her water source. Nothing too malicious that didn’t call for any sort of overt action. All O’Donnell had to do was convince the locals to dump their crap somewhere else, and the demon had been satisfied enough to let her waters run again.

Two days and one discreet reward later from the mayor, and the four Devil Busters went riding off into the wilderness again. O’Donnell mentioned that he had another job lined up a few miles down the river. Blindpoint was apparently experiencing unexplained disappearances that couldn’t be pinned to the local wildlife.

It’s the final stretch of the trip to Blindpoint. You wake up to the warm sensation of the New Mexico sun kissing your face, and the smell of sausages being fired over an open fire. Robbins was crouched by the fire pit, gently rolling the links along a cast iron frying pan with meticulous aim.

You do your best to even out the unruly mess of your hair as you stretch out the kinks in your back and neck. “Good morning…Doctor Robbins,” You say, stifling a yawn as best you can. “This is a nice surprise.”

He makes a small jump of surprise before turning towards you with a smile on his face. “Oh, good morning to you too, Miss Turner! Ah…how are you doing?”

You wave your hand and return his smile with one of your own. “Pleasantly enough with the stiffness in my back, and even better with what you’ve got on the fire.”

“This is going to be our last meal before we take on Jonathan’s next job. I figure that it may as well be one that fills both the heart and the soul with good feeling.”

(cont.)

File: Txiv Neeb.jpg (199 KB, 955x1300)

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“Amen to that…” Wait a moment. Frowning, you take a look around the camp. Neeb’s scribbling something in one of his many books, but O’Donnell is nowhere to be found. “Where’s Mister O’Donnell?”

Robbins shrugs as he passes you a wooden plate with sausage links and two pieces of biscuit. “He said he went to go check the surrounding area. Something about making sure that it’s just us on the dusty plains. Guard duty, I imagine.”

“Ah. I see.” Very good for him. There’s no such thing as being too careful, especially in the wilderness. Even without the threat of demons, there were still plenty of unsavory things lurking around in search for easy prey.

Digressing from that, you accept the meal with polite thanks and try your hardest not to voraciously dig into your breakfast. Compared to nothing but stale biscuits and dried beef for the last two days, this is certainly a treat.

But before you can go any further with the biscuits, Neeb stands up from his position and moves to stand in front of you. Seems like he’s got something to say. But he better make it quick. No matter how hot it was, the links weren’t going to stay hot forever.

He smiles, and you try your best not to wince at his yellowed teeth. Muttering something in his oriental tongue, he gestures towards several images within his little book that he presents to you with dramatic flourish. He points to you, then to all the sketches and art as if inviting you to choose one…

(cont.)

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You raise your eyebrow, but comply, squinting at the creatures depicted on the paper. Baring the mystic script that decorates nearly every blank space of the, the pictures are some of the finest that you’ve seen outside of a formal museum.

You can’t quite explain how or why, but it feels like there’s some sort of…life-like quality within the images.

Still, you shrug and make your decision with a pointed gesture of your finger. The image that appeals to you the most is…

>An armored fairy with a coquettish smile on her face.
>A unicorn with eyes of determination, rearing for battle.
>An enigmatic creature with a pair of antennae and wings.

>>46226548
>An armored fairy with a coquettish smile on her face.

>mystic script
ISWYDT

>>46226548
>An armored fairy with a coquettish smile on her face.
Armored fairy...High Pixie or Morrigan?

>>46226548
>>An armored fairy with a coquettish smile on her face.

File: High_Pixie_04.jpg (9 KB, 275x355)

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>>46226592
>>46226654
>>46226867

You’re not sure why you chose the fairy. Maybe it’s because it’s the most human-looking of the bunch, barring the wings. It might have been the fact that it looks the least-threatening of the three. Or maybe it’s because fairy tales were Taylor’s favorite type of bed time stories.

As soon as your finger comes into contact with the paper, the image of the fairy glows softly with a warm light. But before you can retract your finger, the image flashes and leaps off of the paper. Bathed in white light, you only have time to register your facial muscles forming into one of abject shock and Neeb’s hum of approval before the light shatters and breaks away.

The creature that you picked out of the book hovers right in front of you, living, breathing and suffused with flesh and blood. Standing no higher than a foot, her eyes shine with mischievous delight as she thoroughly inspects you from head to toe.

“I’m High Pixie of the Fairy Clan!” She says with a polite bow. “Master Neeb says that you’re in need of my service, so I guess you’re my new master now! It’s nice to meet you!”

You do your best to try not to stare at the…interesting choice of armor that girdles her torso. Or the shock blue hair that stands up on her head like blades of grass.

>“Nice to meet you, too…I guess.”
>“…what in tarnation are you wearing?”
>“Can I get a refund?”
>Custom option.

>>46227102
>>“Nice to meet you, too…I guess.”
>>“…what in tarnation are you wearing?”

>>46227102
>“Nice to meet you, too…I guess.”
>“…what in tarnation are you wearing?”

>>46227102
>“Nice to meet you, too…I guess.”
>“…what in tarnation are you wearing?”
>It's not often I see blue hair.

>>46227148
>>46227179
>>46227242

You’re not sure whether or not to offer a handshake. Your mind is still trying to reconcile the fact that Neeb is carrying a literal book with demons inside of it to be summoned at a gesture. No wonder O’Donnell had trepidation to using demons unless absolutely necessary. There’s more than a few towns that would lynch the old man if he did something like this in public.

Still, you have a new…friend to greet. “Nice to meet you too…I guess.”

If her smile got any brighter, you’d wonder whether or not her teeth are shinier than the sun. “Great! I’m going to be your demon now, so let’s have lots of fun together, Master!”

“Please don’t call me that,” You intone firmly. “I’ll accept ‘Ma’am’ or Miss Turner, but that’s it, understood?” You're not the most progressive of folks, but that time and age is long gone.

“Yes, ma’am,” the demon dutifully recites back.

You grasp for conversation topics. Unable to do so, you blurt out the question that’s been burning a hole in your tongue. “…it’s not every day I see blue hair. And pardon me for asking, but what in tarnation are you wearing?”

The fairy doesn’t seem to take any offense. “It’s standard for all of my species. The armor is a symbol that a pixie has reached greater power and is given command of smaller fairies. And the hair is just my natural coloration! You humans are so limited in your hues and shades.”

You decide not to dignify that with an answer. Good thing too. Neeb places something into your outstretched hand…some kind of talisman or something attached to a bit of twine. He says something to High Pixie, who then nods and turns to you.

“As long as you’re carrying that talisman, you can call upon me any time you want. And when you don’t need me, I’ll just be resting inside of the medallion, okay? It’s super convenient for Devil Summoners and the demons that come along with them!”

(cont.)

File: Blindpoint.jpg (449 KB, 1280x718)

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With that, she disappears into the talisman in your hand. It pulses briefly before settling down to comfortable warmth. Neeb pantomimes putting on a necklace, and you figure out that it’s where the amulet goes. With a quick toss of your hair, you slide it down your face and around your neck to settle peacefully on your lower collarbone.

>You finish your breakfast in pensive silence.

O’Donnell eventually returns, regarding you from his horse with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Time to head out. Eat on the road if you can, but we have to make it to Blindpoint before noon. I’ve got word that the Sheriff’s waiting for us to meet him.”

You all respond with affirmative noises and strike down the camp. Within a few minutes, the four of you are on the road again, riding your mounts as hard and as fast as you can towards your destination.

>No encounter roll.

It takes you the better part of an hour, but you make it to Blightpoint without any sort of incident. It’s a small town, with simple wooden buildings and structures dominating the territory. Men and women go about their business, whether it’s loading supplies from a wagon, or shopping at the general store.

Your entrance into town doesn’t go unnoticed. There are people hanging along the porches and edges of the saloon and other buildings who whisper to themselves with as much discretion as a town crier. A few of them note how dangerous O’Donnell looks, and how green Robbins looks. Some malicious comments are directed to Neeb, but he doesn’t seem to care.

You on the other hand have no desire to repeat what they said. You’re halfway tempted to shoot the varmint that suggested that you were a bedwarmer, but first impressions last forever. Lead wasn’t the only way to get them to shut up.

(cont.)

File: Sheriff.jpg (69 KB, 1191x670)

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Two men on horseback guide their mounts towards you, both wearing badges of office identifying them as men of the law. The elder man looks almost too old to be a sheriff, but he certainly has the gait and swagger of a man assured of himself. And behind the wrinkles and grey mustache, his eyes shine with the color of tempered steel.

“Took you long enough to get here,” He says in a raspy voice. “Any longer, and me and my boy would’ve gone out by ourselves.”

O’Donnell smiles. “Patience is a virtue, old man. Said it yourself way back when. Can’t just go running off half-cocked and fly by the seat of your pants.”

“Not when it’s costing me two men every week it isn’t…”

The sheriff and O’Donnell continue to exchange words, leaving you, Neeb and Robbins quietly doing your best to remain inconspicuous. At least, you try. The deputy, who cannot be anyone else than the sheriff’s son, saunters up towards you.

His windswept hair gives him the appearance of a man who spent a long time in the saddle of a horse, chasing after bandits in the pursuit of justice. The brown duster on his shoulders shows signs of wear and experience, and the occasional bullet hole. A silver revolver hangs in a holster by his hip.

With a polite smile and wave, he says to you, “Pardon me for askin’, ma’am, but if I may…”
You regard him with a look that indicates permission to continue.

“…what’s a pretty lady like yourself doing runnin’ around with these here gunslingers? It’s a bit strange to see a woman dressed up like a cowboy.”

>“I’m hunting the one that killed my family.”
>“Well that’s none of your business, now is it?”
>“I don’t believe we’ve been introduced…”
>Custom.

>>46227952
>“Well that’s none of your business, now is it?”

>>46227520
>“It’s standard for all of my species. The armor is a symbol that a pixie has reached greater power and is given command of smaller fairies. And the hair is just my natural coloration! You humans are so limited in your hues and shades.”
I can't wait until Adrian's High Pixie meets some standard High Pixies.

>>46227952
>“Well that’s none of your business, now is it?”
Seems like something she'd say.

>>46227952
>>“Well that’s none of your business, now is it?”

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>>46227984
>>46228020
>>46228075

The look on your face goes from indifference to mild irritation. “Well that’s none of your business, now is it?”

Seemingly surprised by the dry reply that he received, the deputy raises his hands in supplication. “I meant no offense, ma’am. Just wonderin’ is all. O’Donnell brings in unusual folks with him to Blindpoint, that much is a given, but it’s the first time he’s brought a woman.”

“And is there a problem with me being a woman?”

“None at all. Only an observation. But where are my manners?” He offers his hand to you with a grin. “I’m Deputy Adam Vagun. My old man over there? He’s Sheriff Vagun. We’re the ones that keep the peace here in this town from all sorts of brigands.”

Your smile is thinner than ice come springtime as you shake his hand. “Oh, I noticed. Your badge does its job quite well.”

To your surprise, instead of losing his temper, he laughs. “You’ve got more spirit in you than most of the men around these parts, ma’am. I’m looking forward to see why O’Donnell brought you along.”

As soon as Vagun is out of earshot, Robbins approaches you, and says distastefully, “What a rude man.”

“It wasn’t anything that I couldn’t handle,” You mutter, flexing your hand. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Still…he is the deputy, after all. Is it wise to make him cross?”

“The sheriff holds the power. And even though Vagun is a bit of an ass, he’s dedicated to his job. I can tell you that much.”

Robbins scratches his head. “If you say so…”

(cont.)

>>46228474

O’Donnell and Sheriff Vagun finish talking and turn towards the four of you. Judging from the looks on their faces, it’s time to get down to business as usual. Time to go hunt a demon. Hopefully this time it involves something you can shoot.

Clearing his throat, the old man says, “We’ve got two places to investigate. Malloy farm’s been reporting of something with huge claws taking their cattle, and one of the couriers reported some kind of disturbance in the Flint Arrow caves by the ridges. Might be a beast of some sort. O’Donnell’s hitting the caves, and I’m getting the farm. We’ll split ourselves up to cover more ground.”

You should go to…

>Malloy Farm [Sheriff Vagun]
>Flint Arrow Cave [O’Donnell]

>>46228508
>Flint Arrow Cave [O’Donnell]
Probably where the most action will be.

>>46228508
>Flint Arrow Cave [O’Donnell]

>>46228508
>>Flint Arrow Cave [O’Donnell]
The deputy is playing us like a fiddle, right?

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>>46228540
>>46228583
>>46228618

“Seems like you’re gonna need some extra help with that cave,” You say as you nudge Bolt to saunter up to O’Donnell’s horse. “No way in hell am I gonna let you go into some monster’s den without my guns backing you up.”

O’Donnell is silent before he nods. “That’s comforting to know, but how good of a shot are you in the dark?”

“Enough to shoot the hat clean off a rustler in the middle of the night.”

“Glad to hear it!” Deputy Vagun says. “’Cause I’m the one that’s gonna be taking you to the caves. You’d be surprised how many people get lost out there.”

You’re not one to curse explicitly, but you can’t help but make give voice to your reaction inside of your head.

Fuck.

Robbins looks somewhat crestfallen at the fact that the Sheriff wants him with him on the Malloy farm to treat some injuries, but he does a good job of hiding it. Neeb happily follows the doctor and the lawman on his own horse out of town and towards the farm. Within a few minutes, the only sign that they were there was a dust cloud already fading in the breeze.

Vagun checks a pocket watch from his jacket. “Well, time’s a wastin’. Let’s head on out.”

“I still know how to get to the caves, Adam,” O’Donnell says with a dry look on his face as he spurs his horse onward.

“You’d be surprised how quickly things change in ten years,” He replies with a roguish smile.

“I know. Like this goddamn country!”

Choosing to stay silent for the duration of their banter, you follow both men at their moderate gallop.

>Roll 1d100 encounter.

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>46228878
Ah, piss.

Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>46228878

Rolled 47 (1d100)

>>46228878
Rollin

File: tumblr_ng5j5nGwdM1r7qac9o3_500.gif (1.73 MB, 500x281)

1.73 MB GIF

>>46228918
>>46228991
>>46229017

“So who’s the girl, Johnny?”

“My latest recruit.”

“No kidding, huh? You still are doing that…”

“The Devil Busters, yes. I am indeed still, doing ‘that’.”

“I mean, I figured that you were given the oriental. Guy looks like a verified shaman.”

“That’s because he is. Straight from the mountains of China.”

“Long way from home. What’s he doing here?”

“You’re gonna have to ask him yourself, Adam.”

“I can’t speak Japanese.”

“Then you’re in luck. He speaks Chinese quite fluently.”

“I can’t speak that either.”

“Then you’re shit out of luck.”

“Real funny. But what about your lady friend, hm? What’s her story?”

“That’s for her to tell you. I can’t speak for her.”

“Well aren’t you a gentleman…”

“Has nothing to do with it. All you need to know is that she’s proven herself to me.”

“With the guns on her back or the guns on her-”

“Finish that sentence and I’m going to throw you off a cliff.”

“You wouldn’t do that to your best friend, would you?”

“Friends can be replaced.”

“Yeesh, you’re in a real sour mood today.”

“You could say that I didn’t get enough sleep last night...”

You can’t hear much of what they’re saying due to the sudden pick-up in the wind, but you still manage to catch a few words. Something about how time flies, how things change, and a lack of sleep. Nothing much to worry about.

Eventually, the three of you come to the base of one of the mesas in the shadow of the mountains. There are enough rock formations and nooks for tons of critters to hide in, whether mundane or demonic.

The three of you dismount your horses, drawing your revolvers and guns with well-practiced motions. Vagun looks like he’s doing some kind of sideshow act with his guns before an exasperated look from O’Donnell causes the man to stop.

(cont.)

>>46229357

“This should be the place that they told us about,” Vagun mutters. “Keep your eyes peeled. The courier was literally scared shitless when he came to us. Must’ve been something real big too get a hardened runner to turn their white trousers brown.”

O’Donnell frowns. “Doesn’t have to be a big one either. There are plenty of small demons capable of using some kind of fear-inducing spell-”

>Roll 1d100 Perception.
>Best of three

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>46229394

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>46229394
nat 1

Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>46229394

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>>46229402
>>46229432
>>46229455

You can feel and hear it more than you can see it: the displacement of air as nearby rocks tumble out of position a dozen feet away from you, and the sound of rubble shifting under something’s weight. Something is here with the three of you, and you have to quickly find out where the sound was coming from-

There. On a rocky formation far off at least a dozen feet away, something is trying it’s best to hide away from the open sunlight. Even from this distance, you can make out a few general features. Green skin, wild, unruly hair, and a body built like a brick house.

Then you noticed the necklace of human skulls that runs around its neck and what looks like a pair of legs sticking outside of a struggling burlap sack…

>Tell the others, shoot later.
>Shoot first, tell later.
>Custom option.

>>46229760
>Shoot first, tell later.

>>46229760
>Shoot first, tell later.

>>46229760
>Shoot first, tell later.
No point in wasting time.

>>46229760
If I remember right those guys are weak to Lightning I think.

Might be time to test out our new Demon soon.

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>>46229813
>>46229829
>>46229831

There’s no time to waste. A single second of time was more than enough to tip the advantage towards the demon.

You holster your Peacemaker and slide the Henry repeater onto your shoulder. Breathe deeply, relax your heartbeat. A marksman doesn’t pull the trigger; he squeezes it.

You’ve done your best to line up as good of a shot as you could without risking a bullet hitting the sack. Right now, the only thing that’s down the barrel of your gun is a hulking monstrosity of green, bulging flesh.

You’re more than in range for the bullet to fly true. But a prayer never hurt, especially quick, silent ones to unknown deities as you squeeze the trigger.

>Roll 1d100 + 10 to hit.
>Best out of three.

Rolled 4 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>46229980
Praying to the Trio

>>46230021
I said the Trio. Not just you Petra.

Rolled 93 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>46229980

Rolled 86 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>46229980

Rolled 38 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>46229980
Shoot to kill, Nyalarhotep.

>>46230054
More like it.

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>>46230021
>>46230054
>>46230063

>93
>Critical hit!

CRACK!

The smell of powder smoke fills your nostrils as you fire at the demon with precision aim, and the high-pitched VREEE of the bullet dominates your range of hearing. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see O’Donnell and Vagun running towards you and shouting something. But you don’t really care, even if you did hear them.

Your attention is completely focused on the monster.

The .44 round catches the brute right where it hurts, specifically right in the unmentionables. The demon reels back violently, completely uncaring of the sack that hits the ground as it bellows in unbridled rage and pain.

>Roll 1d10 + 4 Damage
>Multiply result by x3 for Critical Hit!

Rolled 8 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>46230317
Here's some music
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wQ9q8DwBBus

Rolled 1 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>46230317

Rolled 10 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>46230317

>>46230344
>>46230346
Dammit anon, you canceled out my 10. At least we got a 36 total.

>>46230395
Damage rolls don't have critfails.

>>46230346
>>46230317
10+4=14
14x3= 42
42x1.1= 46.2


46.2 damage

>>46230395
...I should make a rule sheet for dice and Pastebin it, but just to clear the air, there are no penalties or bonuses for rolling a natural 1 or 10 when it comes to damage rolls.

Every other role though is fair game, whether you're trying to talk down a demon, last out against Alger's Fanatical Fitness Hour, or give Alyssa one hell of a night to remember you by.

Writing...

>>46230515
I hope we "policed our brass" after spending the night with her. Don't want her saddled with our kid and all.

>>46230572
I dunno, Lucifer's baby daddy is a pretty cool title.
We could brag about it to people.

File: Annette Turner.jpg (90 KB, 600x858)

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>>46230343
>>46230344
>>46230346
>>46230450

With little more than a pathetic squeal, the demon teeters perilously on the edge of the cliff before losing all sense of balance and plummets straight down from the overhang. You can’t help but wince slightly as the sickening CRUNCH-SPLAT of bones shattering and viscera splattering all over the ground echoes throughout the area.

O’Donnell’s only reaction is to stare for a few seconds before sprinting up the mesa. It’s more than likely that he saw the burlap sack once you dropped the demon. He’d probably have an easier time getting up there than you would. There are still some sore spots in your body that have yet to recover.

As for Vagen…

With his revolver limply hanging by his hips, his mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water before he speaks in a subdued and hesitant tone. “…what did you say you were before you joined up with Johnny’s Devil Busters?”

You regard him with an amused look, and say...

>“Just another cattle rancher.”
>“A goddamn housewife.”
>Custom.

>>46230773
>“A goddamn housewife.”

>>46230773
>“A goddamn housewife.”

>>46230773
>"Still none of your business"
but this time without hostility in the voice

>>46230773
>>“A goddamn housewife.”

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>>46230773
>“A goddamn housewife.”

>>46230828
>>46230835
>>46230842
>>46230849
>>46230928

“Oh, it’s still none of your business, Mister Vagun,” You say without any sort of hostility in your voice, “But if you must know…a goddamn housewife.”

With that, you slide the Henry repeater back onto your shoulder and briskly walk towards O’Donnell and the person being carried in his arms. In your wake, you leave a sputtering Deputy Vagun even more confused than he was before.

You help O’Donnell and his victim down gently from the steep rocks and lay him down gently. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, with boyish features and a small amount of baby fat still clinging to his cheeks. Dressed in clothes little more than bloody rags, his breathing was shallow, but even on the average.

O’Donnell tears a strip of his shirt off and wraps it around the head wound. “Just a superficial scratch, but these are the ones that bleed the most. He’ll be out of it for awhile, so it’s best to get him back to town and into a proper bed.”

You blink. “I was unaware that you were a doctor, Mister O’Donnell.”

He grimaces. “You don’t need a degree from some medical school to know when someone’s hurt or not. It helps in most professional spaces, but it’s unnecessary in this kind of environment.”

Vagun eventually catches up to you and does a suitable job of recovering his composure. “Be that as it may, someone’s gotta get this kid back to town. And fast. Poor bastard shouldn’t have to stay out here any longer than he has to.”

>Stay by the caves and keep on looking.
>Volunteer to take the kid back to town.

>>46231257
>Stay by the caves and keep on looking.

>>46231257
>Volunteer to take the kid back to town.

>>46231257
>Stay by the caves and keep on looking
I got the best eyes and am the best shot.

>>46231257
>Volunteer to take the kid back to town.
this'll be good for her.

insert joke about her kill, her loot

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Rolling to break the tie...

>>46231281
>>46231304
>>46231541

As much as you want to help the kid and go back to town…you can’t. There could be more of the demons out there, and you’re not about to risk falling back now that you’ve already brought down one of them. Momentum of the moment and what not, even if you don’t want to mention that you’re the best shot out of the three of you.

When you or O’Donnell move or make any sound, Vagun throws his hands up into the air. “Fine. I’ll take the kid back. Just try not to die while I’m gone, okay? And save some for me as well, will ya?”

Together, you manage to prop the kid on Vagun’s horse as gently as you can, tying him upright in the saddle. The deputy hops on his mount, and with a ‘Hiya!’, sets off back to town at a moderate speed with the kid firmly nestled between him and the horse’s neck.

You wait for him to clear the area safely before you and O’Donnell return your attention to the puddle of demon that’s rapidly watering the desert ground.

>Roll 2d100 for Loot.
>Best of three wins.

Rolled 77, 49 = 126 (2d100)

>>46231961

Rolled 81, 87 = 168 (2d100)

>>46231961

Rolled 19, 41 = 60 (2d100)

>>46231961
Lootcifer

File: 1458696691217.jpg (108 KB, 762x796)

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Rolled 92, 26 = 118 (2d100)

>>46231961

>>46231997
>>46232020
>>46232033

To your great surprise, there’s a surprising amount of things that didn’t break upon impact. It goes without saying that the necklace of skulls is completely powder, but other than that…some of the things on the demon’s belt managed to stay in one piece.

>You managed to recover…
>700 Units of Magnetite
>4 Life Stones (Restores 20% of max health)
>2 Zio Stone
>2 Patra Stones

O’Donnell sharply reaches for the bloody pouch that’s glowing, snatching it out of your reach before you can even blink twice. He whistles, and five seconds later, his horse comes trotting along to join you. Two seconds later, and the bag’s inside one of the saddle’s many compartments. Then and only then does he breathe a sigh of relief.

…you aren’t confused as much as you want an answer. With an eyebrow raised sharply in an inquisitorial stare, you give him the look that says you aren’t moving until you get an answer.

He eventually relents. “That’s raw magnetite,” He exhales, a worried expression on his face. At your tilting head, he continues, “It’s a kind of byproduct of human biolo...perhaps a simpler method is to say a material that’s of great value to the demons. You know how we had the gold rush way back in ’49? This shit is that for the demons.”

You regard the saddlebag with a wry look. “Okay? So the thing’s demon gold. What makes it so valuable to them? Why the freak out?”

“It only composes the physiology of their bodies and allows them to take form in the physical realm. The more powerful the demon, the more magnetite you need to summon it. And the sack we just picked up was enough to bring a whole lot of them into our realm.”

There’s a tense silence eventually interrupted with your neutral, “…well that can’t be good.”

He wrings his hands together. “Why would a run-of-the-mill ogre have so much of the stuff on him? It makes no sense...something else is going on here...”

(cont.)

>>46232601
I think its hilarious that this fight netted more utility items than our entire Rookie team has.

>>46232669
It's all about inflation. Demons could afford to be more carefree about their stuff back in the day. Now? They just leave it at home, or wherever else they make their domicile.

Besides, it's not like Brenda had any loot on her. And the demons in the hospital and in the forest? Stingy. Very stingy. And perhaps we need to have more wild encounters with demons in the next mission. That's something I plan to rectify.

Writing...

>>46232725
Task Force doesn't have a stockpile? I know we got medkits, but those don't help against the slew of status ailments demons throw at us. Well at least we have High Pixie. She's our Cure-All right now.

>>46232725
So what you're saying is Magnetite Smoothies?

>>46232601

Halfway through his rhetorical question, you see what appears to be some kind of revelation strike him. His mouth parts in horror and the grip on his gun tightens dramatically. “Oh no. They aren’t taking them away to be eaten…”

O’Donnell practically leaps up from his squatting position and takes off into a brisk run. You stumble in your haste to follow him, eventually catching up after ten seconds of flat-out running. And even then, you’re already feeling slightly winded from the run. “Hey, hey! What’s wrong-”

“There are only two known ways to extract magnetite,” He mutters, drawing both of his revolvers. Scrambling up the rock, his eyes dart across the area, searching frantically for something you can’t see. “The first one is to set up some kind of magic circle to harvest it from the air over a set period of time. It’s the most efficient way to get the substance, but it takes a long time to do it.”

“And the second method?” You ask, already dreading the answer.

He grimaces. “Kill a whole bunch of humans, or take them alive and literally suck the magnetite out of their bodies. Depending on how much you siphon per session, you can pump them dry for days. Like batt…” Here he pauses as if searching for another word, “…beehives. Beehives being harvested over and over again.”

In spite of the midday sun, you can feel a literal chill go down your spine. “The missing people-”

“That’s correct. And Old Man Vagun said this has been going on for at least a few weeks before he sent word to me. That means that whoever’s doing this-”

“Has gathered enough of your mag…magnetite to bring a whole lot of demons stampeding across the west,” You conclude as you reach for your own firearms. “Oh dear. Well we have to stop them-”

(cont.)

>>46232910

“Or…”

“There’s an or?”

For the first time since you’ve met him, O’Donnell’s voice shows only the slightest trace of fear. “…or use it to summon a singular and very, very powerful demonic entity.”

>Roll 1d100 for Encounter.
>Best of three.

========

>>46232842
Yes they do. With that said, all I'm doing is blaming myself for doing a poor job of managing the inventory and loot. Something I plan to fix next mission along with encounters.

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>46232945
Lucy?

Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>46232945
Come on Nat 1!

>>46232910
>Like batt…
Someone's been time travelling. Or is from a more advanced world on the Network.

Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>46232945

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>46232945
uh ohs

>>46232910
what does O'Donell's look like?

>>46232945
>“…or use it to summon a singular and very, very powerful demonic entity.”
We have debuffs...right?

Neeb's High Pixie

+ High Pixie (Lv. 17) [100% Loyalty]
--Race: Fairy
--Alignment: Neutral
--Personality: Friendly, Optimistic
--MP: 187

>Media (Restores smile amount of health to all allies)
>Zio (Weak lightning spell, 20% Shock to one foe)
>Rakunda (Lower's enemy's defense by one level)
>Sukukaja (Raises all allies' agility by one level)
>Mazio (Weak lightning spell, 20% shock to all foes)
>Healing Pleroma (25% Boost to healing spells)
>Paraladi (Removes stun from one ally)
>Me Patra (Removes bind, sleep or panic from all allies.)

========

>>46233054
What does O'Donnell's what look like?

>>46233177
See the above. Neeb and O'Donnell still have more demons that you haven't seen yet. Keep in mind that as second banana in the Devil Busters, you're still a bit green in terms of the whole demon aspect.

Writing...

>>46233285
>What does O'Donnell's what look like?
what does he look like in general, I'm wondering if time shenanigans have not taken place.

>Still green
Can still shoot an ogre in the dick with the best of them.

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>>46233327
That more than definitely put you in a higher and more respected light.

Writing...

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High Pixie(Kimono version) a best.

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>>46233431

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>>46232961
>>46232969
>>46233009

“…when you say ‘powerful demon’, just how powerful are you talking about?” You try your best to keep your voice as level as possible, but it doesn’t stop the faint shaking of your hands.
“It all depends on how much magnetite they’ve got,” He admits as he continues to check every opening and cave entrance within walking distance. None of them are more than six feet deep, just natural openings caused by erosion. “But given how much that ogre had…they’ve got a lot of it. Enough to bring down a high ranking angel from the Seraphic Choir, at least a Throne…”

“Can you speak in an intelligible language?” You snap. “I can’t make a heads or tails of what you’re trying to tell me.”

O’Donnell grimaces. “Let’s just say that they probably have enough magnetite to summon a demon to permanently change the state, if not neighboring ones as well.”

“…and when you say change…”

“I’m talking about a localized apocalypse. Flooding, hellfire and brimstone, the whole seven seals, bowls and trumpets. At the minimum, thousands of folks are gonna lose their lives. At the worst...millions."

The sheer weight of what he just said to you causes your feet to tangle up. You almost stumble, but O’Donnell grabs onto your arm and keeps you steady. “Don’t fall now,” He mutters. “We’ve still got a lot of work to take care of-”


“Shh! Take a look over there!”

You can see it. Way back where the ogre had been perched before, another one of the demons had come to take its place. From the way it’s moving its head, it appears to be either sniffing for something or searching for whatever it was that killed its fellow monster on the ground below the cliff face.

Or maybe both.

>Roll 1d100 to stay hidden.
>Best of three.

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Rolled 74 (1d100)

>>46233519
Sneak king

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>46233519

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>46233519
Ghosting

>>46233532
Only if we can give it a Whopper.

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>>46233532
>>46233542
>>46233560

The two of you are lucky. Even though you’re both pressed as far back against the cave wall as you possibly can, the risk of being sniffed out still remains. That was until a sudden gust of wind blew your scent east and completely out of the demon’s scent range.

Seemingly (un)satisfied with what it saw or smelled, the demon grunts to itself before trudging off to the distance. It eventually disappears out of sight after passing under another overhang.

You let out a breath of relief that you didn’t know you were holding. “…so that’s how it feels to be hunted. Huh. Quite the experience, isn’t it Mister O’Donnell?”

For a moment, there’s only silence from the other man before he turns to you with a fierce look in his eyes. “Okay. Miss Turner, here’s what’s going to happen: you are going to take that horse of yours and ride as fast as you can back to town. Hopefully, you’ll run into Adam. If not, ask for directions to Malloy farm. We’re going to need all hands on deck for this.”

You’re about to nod on instinct when a suspicion in your gut holds the gesture back. “Hang on…what about you? What are you going to do while I’m gone?”

O’Donnell smiles thinly. “I’m going to follow the ogre. Hopefully it’s heading back to wherever it came from. If I'm right, then the green bastard is gonna lead me right to his little main hideout.”

>“Are you insane? I’m coming with you.”
>“…I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t die.”
>Custom option.

>>46233285
>Restores smile
top tier healing spell right there

>>46233788
>“…I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t die.”

>>46233788
>“Are you insane? I-
>Damnit I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t die.

>>46233788
>>“…I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t die.”
leave a sign for us to follow by incase something bad happens.

>>46233788
>>“…I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t die.”

>>46233843
Supporting.

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>>46233834
...okay, that made me laugh, but I'm still hitting myself for making such a stupid mistake. Shitcock...

Gonna go get something to eat. Have this while I'm gone.

===========

Victoria "Kimiko" Yamane

Age: 22 [Born December 1st 1992]
Gender: Female
Height: 5’6”
Weight: 128 lbs.
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Black
Race/Ethnicity: Asian (Japanese)

Division: East Coast IV
Commander: Landon Alger
Team: Rookie III
Roster: Active Field
Psyche: Stable

[She stands up straight from the hood of the vehicle, wincing as vertebrae and bones crack and pop. At your entrance, she directs a wave and smile with a face streaked with grime, and politely asks for the socket wrench. At your error of handing her the spanner by mistake, she laughs good-naturedly and points to the correct tool with a hand covered in motor oil.]

General: Victoria is a local from North Virginia, and is one of the best mechanics in Arlington county. From a young age, she’s demonstrated a sharp proficiency with power tools and mechanics, eventually finding her niche in automobiles and her father's car repair shop. Victoria recently graduated from UVA with a Bachelors in Engineering when her job searching brought her to the Task Force. [FURTHER CONTENT RESTRICTED TO COMMANDER RANK AND HIGHER]

Personality: Victoria is generally upbeat and optimistic for the most part, and is more often than not finding silver linings in all sorts of bad situations. She is very amicable with her comrades and demons alike, and seldom talks back to her superiors. However, she does have a tendency to show a more sardonic and dry sense of humor whenever something bothers her in particular.

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Gryphon is cool and all but Cerberus when?

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>>46234485
You mean Pascal, right?

>>46234485
>Three Headed SMT Cerberus

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>>46234536
Pascal is Hero's specifically. He ain't working for anyone other than his master.

We want our own Cerberus.

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>>46234571

>>46234588
>He ain't working for anyone other than his master.
He joined both Aleph and the Protagonist of SMT:If...

>>46234651
Oh....

Shows how much I know. I haven't gotten around to SMT2 and can't play If... cause I don't know Japanese.

Late night dining hall food is best dining hall food.

Typing...

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>>46233834
>>46233838
>>46233843
>>46233959

For a moment, you just stare as you try to process the idiocy behind his so-called ‘plan’. You’re tempted to open your mouth, and shout at how his strategy was idiocy of the highest order and how he might be mentally handicapped to make such a plan. Without him, there was no chance of you chasing down Taylor and Danny’s killers, and like hell if you were about to let your only lead go chasing after…

Then again, he was able to talk the Naiad into fixing Hope’s Water the last time you went out without even having to summon any of his demons…did he even have any demons in his employ? You’ve always assumed he did, but you never actually saw them. Still, your trust in him has gotten you this far…

Sighing deeply, you whistle for your own horse. Bolt responds in kind and you can hear him trotting over. “…fine then,” You mutter. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Don’t die.”

He grins. “Oh, I don’t plan on it, Miss Turner. After all, I haven’t helped you track down that fire demon. It would reflect poorly on my soul if I went to the afterlife without helping you.”

You hesitate halfway into the saddle as you pull yourself up from the ground. “…yes, that is right. It would indeed. You don’t have my permission to go to heaven until the demon that took Danny and Taylor is dead.”

Oddly enough, all he does is sigh. “I don’t deserve heaven, Miss. Not after-"

You make a dismissive clicking noise. “Oh stop that, you pessimistic man. We have both of our jobs to do, so I suggest we go and do them. And when I come back here with the others, I’m expecting you to leave some sort of trail for us to follow.”

O’Donnell nods. “You’ll know it when you see it. Godspeed, Miss Turner.”

“I’ll be seeing you later, Mister O’Donnell.”

With that, you spur Bolt into a fast gallop as you take off into the desert, traveling as fast as you can to…

>Malloy Farm
>Blindpoint

>>46235514
>>Malloy Farm

>>46235514
>Malloy Farm
Wouldn't do to get flanked

>>46235514
>Malloy Farm
Eh Heaven is overrated anyways O'Donnell. It's really stuffy up there.

>>46235514
>>Malloy Farm

>>46235514
>O’Donnell nods. “You’ll know it when you see it. Godspeed, Miss Turner.”

inb4 dead ogres

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>>46235544
>>46235579
>>46235597
>>46235640

You do your best to remember the path that Sheriff Vagun and the others took when they rode out of town. They took the left road leading out of town after heading past the crossroads…so then you have to take a right as soon as Blindpoint is visible from at least the mesa shaped like a thumb.

Directions are something that you’ve always been good at. No cattle rancher worth his or her salt lacked a proper sense of navigation. Comes with the job of having to ferry a bunch of bovine herd animals from one nearly-empty field to another-

Suddenly, the medallion around your neck begins to shake. At first, you thought it was an effect caused by the gallop you set for Bolt. But as you slow down to catch your breath, you realize that it’s doing it on its own without any sort of visible input.

Frowning, you pick it up and hold it in your open palm. The blue sheen of the metal has completely turned cherry red, and the amulet itself wobbles in your hand. Maybe it’s trying to tell you something…

You shrug, and tuck it back into your shirt. You could ask Neeb through High Pixie to give you a further explanation of what the talisman does. Even better is that you can do it as soon as you reach the farm. It’s just after this mesa, and that’s the second thing you decide to tell them after letting everyone know about Mister O’Donnell.

With a relieved sigh, you turn the bend to find a veritable hellscape.

Flames lick at the edges of the barn as little red demons dance maniacally around the structure. Sections of the main house have suffered extensive damage, with whole rooms and walls being torn down from their foundations. In the yard, a horde of ogres bellow in broken English and in their demonic tongue about what they plan to do to the humans trapped inside.

(cont.)

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>>46236126

For the briefest of moments, your heart sounds like a wardrum in your ears, spurring you onto kill as many of them as you can. They are not the ones responsible, but kill them anyway. Kill the ones that create fire. Kill them all and leave nothing left-

If this were any other sort of situation, you’d spur on Bolt as hard as you could and open fire as soon as you were within range. That’s not the case, though. These aren’t cattle rustlers. They’re demons. And they require a calmer approach.

The sound of gunfire coming from the residence alerts you to the fact that the defenders are putting up a fight. And they’re giving no quarter, sending bullet after bullet at any demon that got too close to their perimeter. Something’s working, because all the little ones do is sneer and make rude gestures. They dare not throw fire at the structure.

But that’s not what’s got you or them fixated on with your undivided attention.

Standing in front of the house like the archetypal wizard, Neeb’s robes flutter around him as the wind howls violently. Chanting in a tongue you’re fairly sure isn’t Chinese, Japanese or any other oriental language, he raises his hand and snaps his fingers. You feel your eyes widen to the furthest extent they could when tendrils of lighting come out of his fingers and strike three of the ogres charging at his position.

Even from far away, you can smell the scent of burnt flesh and hear their gurgling screams as Neeb’s magic cooks the demons from the inside out. They collapse, two turning into ashes upon impact and the other little more than a charred lump of ruined flesh.

>Choose one:
>Shoot the demons.
>Summon High Pixie.

>Choose one:
>Immediately assist Neeb.
>Immediately ride to the house.

>>46236176
>>46236176
>Summon High Pixie.
>Immediately assist Neeb.

>>46236176
>>Summon High Pixie.
>>Immediately assist Neeb.

>>46236176
>Summon High Pixie.
>Immediately assist Neeb.

>>46236176
>>Shoot the demons.
>Pick them off from a distance
Look like a regular human with good aim so they think we're an easy target, THEN summon High Pixie.

>>46236259
Then we'll be cut off from the house as they advance on us and be shot at by the fire demons. For some reason they aren't attacking the house with fire so we also need to use that advantage.

>>46236301
we're on a horse. Better to pick off the first few imp things and get away with burnt fields than to let them prevent the people inside from escaping.

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>>46236214
>>46236228
>>46236230

You tear your eyes away from the casual violation of your reality, physics and (to some extent) your faith. He can actually use magic. The kind of ‘burn-you-for-witchcraft’ magic. No, not even that. You’ve never read or heard any folk tale about a witch actually performing feats that would make electricians and physicists collectively froth at the mouth.

Still, you can’t just leave him out there. As far as you can tell, Neeb is the oldest man you’ve ever seen alive, and more than likely had all the frailties that came with age. One bad hit was all it was going to take for their only line of defense to go down.

But there is something you can do.

Touching the medallion on your neck, you squeeze it tightly, pray to God for forgiveness, and summon the demon bound within the amulet with a thought.

“Hello again, Ma’am! It’s good to see you…” High Pixie’s energetic greeting fades away at the sight of the carnage around her. “Oh my goodness! What’s going on here?!”

You grimace as you ready your Henry repeater, sliding one more round into the mechanism before setting one in the chamber. Fifteen rounds ready to go. “Demon attack on the farm. Neeb is going to be in trouble if this keeps going on. We need to go help him.”

“Understood! I await your orders, Ma’am!”

You tilt your head in confusion. “…orders?”

“Oh, this is your first time using a demon! Well, no problem. Here’s a quick run-down…”

>High Pixie quickly explained the finer points of Demon Combat
>High Pixie quickly went over her spell list.

“Understood,” You nod, grabbing Bolt’s reins with a firm grip and your repeater in the other. “I need you to…”

>Blast the ogres with lightning.
>Blast the imp-things with lightning.
>Custom.

>>46236569
>Blast the ogres with lightning.
Ogres are weak to lightning.
We can shoot the Ukobachs.

>>46236569
>Blast the imp-things with lightning.
Neeb is doing just fine dealing with the ogres

>>46236569
>Blast the ogres with lightning.
Clear the field of ogres. Hopefully Neeb has some Ice somewhere for the Ukobach once we give him some breathing room.

>>46236569
>>Blast the ogres with lightning.

>>46236569
>>Blast the ogres with lightning.

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>>46236599
>>46236673
>>46236710
>>46236712

>Blast the ogres with lightning.

“Yes, ma’am! Mazio!”

You can feel your hair stand on end as electricity gathers in the palm of her tiny hands. With a grand gesture of throwing her arms out, lighting arcs from her hands and strikes three of the monsters at the rear of the horde. Taken by surprise, they have no chance to dodge or even take up a defensive position as the magic spell hits them full on.

It’s nowhere near as powerful as Neeb’s flesh-broiling attack, but it gets the job done. The ogres are struggling with the electricity coursing through their bodies. Sparks and tiny coils of lightning jump from their bodies as their limbs lock up and their bodies teeter precariously off-balance.

>Roll 3d100 for Stun
>Best out of 3.

Rolled 7, 63, 3 = 73 (3d100)

>>46236968

Rolled 74, 11, 22 = 107 (3d100)

>>46236968

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Rolled 33, 98, 78 = 209 (3d100)

>>46236968

>>46237011
Best Pixie = Best luck

>>46236986
>>46236998
>>46237011

>74, 98, 78

Two of the ogres manage to recover from the attack, grabbing their weapons and roaring at you in rage. But one of them doesn’t, and promptly collapses onto the ground like a brick house, unmoving and completely immobile save for the occasional twitch.

At the sight of your new arrival, the little demons begin to laugh. Some of them break off from the main formation harassing the house, whooping maniacally as they dash towards you. The spoons in their hands begin to conjure up great balls of fire, casting macabre shadows on their bulbous noses and green skin.

>You have one free turn before the surprise round is over.

But they're still quite a distance away from you. Maybe it's their size, but they can't lob their magic as far as High Pixie can. You still have enough time to do one last thing before they get into their firing range...

>Shoot the paralyzed ogre.
>Shoot the fire demons.
>Ride around to the back.
>Custom option.

>>46237382
>>Shoot the fire demons.

>>46237382
>Shoot the fire demons.

>>46237382
>>Shoot the fire demons

>>46237382
>Shoot the fire demons.
Does High Pixie need to secure herself for a wild ride, or can her flight keep up?

>>46237473
Flight should be able to keep up. Outside of game mechanics, a purely lore-based Pixie is insanely fast.

Writing...

>>46237398
>>46237411
>>46237416
>>46237473

Compared to the Chupicabras you had to fight a few days ago, the imps are laughably slow. You think that it doesn’t help to be carrying spoons the size of their full bodies.
But you digress. You could talk about the finer parts and anatomy of demons with Doctor Robbins when all of this was over and done with. There’d be plenty of corpses for him, Neeb and you to go over with collection jars and scalpels.

You raise the Henry repeater to your shoulders and bring one of the demons into the sights. Its eyes go from glee to confusion, finally settling on panic as it realizes that you’ve got a bead on it. Emptying your mind and body of all thoughts and air as you move your finger, you squeeze the trigger and let the bullet fly.

>Roll 1d100 + 10
>Best out of three.

Rolled 68 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>46237809

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>46237809

Rolled 86 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>46237809

Rolled 83 + 10 (1d100 + 10)

>>46237809

>>46237821
>>46237852
>>46237915

The lead flies true, catching the demon right in the chest. It’s even lighter than you thought. The impact causes the little critter to drop its spoon and bowl over tail-over-teakettle. You’d be laughing if the circumstances were a little different, at the fact that something that’s supposed to go bump in the night just fell over like a rag doll.

You pump the handle, spitting out the spent round and priming in another as you check the demon as to whether or not it’s going to get up from the wound you inflicted on it…

>Roll 1d10 + 4 Damage
>Best of three.

Rolled 1 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>46238020

Rolled 9 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>46238020

Rolled 2 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>46238020

Rolled 5 + 10 (1d10 + 10)

>>46238020

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>>46238027
>>46238052
>>46238056

>13 Damage

It isn’t getting up. As far as you can tell, the only thing that the demon is doing is watering the Arizona desert sands with its blood, with the occasional twitch in its death throes.

Some of the imps don’t make it to hit you. You blink, and crystalline shards of ice the size of trees emerge from the ground, violently impaling the ones too slow to dodge or get away. In the distance, a bird emanating electricity from its body rains magic lightning down upon the ogres trying to close the distance between you. They are turned to ashes.

Even from this distance, you can see the grinning face of Neeb as he waves with a hand coated in permafrost. And just when you thought you had him figured out...he can make ice in the middle of summer.

Clearly the stars were right, or some god was smiling when Neeb was born. That's the only way you can explain it at this point.

But you digress. There are more immediate things to worry about at the moment.

“Alright,” You whisper, breathing in deeply as the remaining imps launch their spells at you. Magical fire screams through the air as they fly towards you position. With a flick of the reins and a stirrup to the side, Bolt unleashes a powerful war cry as he rears up on his hind legs. “Shall we dance?”

===========

And that’s it for tonight. I have a film gig in a few hours and I have to wake up early.

Next thread, we shall…
>Return to Adrian in the present.
>Continue with Annette.

>>46238297
>Return to Adrian in the present.

Thanks for running.

>>46238297
>Return to Adrian in the present.
need to test out dem fusion mechanics, iron things out for streamlining.

>>46238297
>Return to Adrian in the present.
In all honesty, I could not care less about Annette

>>46238499
This is going to shape something in the present though apparently.

>>46238533
Probably. I'll just trust you guys to handle that.

ANNETE WILL SPLIT OFF INTO ALL 3 ASPECTS: MOTHER(she was a mom), MAIDEN(being courted by 1, maybe 2 guys), and CRONE(losing her husband and continually learning the truth)

>>46238643
Eh not sure about that. They just seem like Neo Paganism demons that are faith starved. She's probably the ancestor to one of the cast and there is some bloodline bullshit.

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“Okay, so who’s doing what now?”

“It’s your turn, Brady. Are you going to attack?”

“Erm…yeah. Think it’s the only thing I can do at this point.”

“Could use a little help over here. One more hit and we’re up the creek.”

“Not my fault you charged in without second thought, Fitz.”

“Shut it.”

“Rolling to attack…”

“…snerk…”

“Oh dear.”

“…that doesn’t look good.”

“Thanks a bunch, guys. Goddammit. Missed again, right, Adrian?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Your arrow goes right past the orcs, who don’t bother looking at it.”

“Well that’s just great. Hmmm…I have a Move action left. I could move around the altar to get behind the cultist…give Victoria…what was it again?”

“I’ll get a Flanking bonus if you do that. With True Strike cast on me, I have a guaranteed hit.”

“This Desna lady is bullshit and you know it.”

“Simmer down, Fitz. Okay, so Brady spends his Move action to flank the cultist, right?”

“Sure. May as well.”

“Just gimme a second to move that piece there…okay. MacKay, it’s your turn.”

“Deus vult!”

“…”

“…ow, my ears.”

“…okay, seriously? What were you trying to do there?”

“I was attacking the cultist with my spear. The one that’s over…here. Trying to gore Fitz with a polearm.”

“…two things: let us know what you’re going to do before you throw the dice. Second…I know this is everyone’s first game and a lot of people are excited, but its best to tone it down a little bit.”

“Ah, right. Sorry.”

“Still, I’ll take your roll. A flat sixteen. More than enough to bypass the kobold’s AC. You pierce it’s trachea with your spear. With a pitiful girglue, it slides off your weapon and crumples onto a twitching mass of flesh on the ground.”

(cont.)

>>46239601

“…well that killed my appetite.”

“Just because you have an anatomy fetish doesn’t mean you have to share it with us, Sawbones.”

“What is it going to take for me to convince you that blood and guts are not a part of my magical realm?”

“What’s that mean?”

“Nothing you need to worry about, Victoria. Nothing you need to worry about that at all…”

“Be that as it may, the kobold is dead. There are only three left in the room, including their leader standing on top of the alter. We return to the top of the initiative for the Kobold King’s turn.”

“…pleasedon’thitme, pleasedon’thitme…”

“Huh. According to the module, it says he wants to go after the weakest looking one. Sorry Brady, but the Kobold King directs his magic missiles at you. This might sting a little bit…”

“…”

“You’re in luck. It only did five damage. Barely a dent in your health, right?”

“Thank fuck. Two more and my guy would’ve bit the big one.”

“He still can. There’s archers coming from behind those pillars, but they spent their entire turn moving to get into cover.”

“Silver linings, sliver linings…um…I’m going to try to slice the cultists’ head off now. Doing more good than harm at this point. No bounty alive that’s this dangerous for such a low price is worth our lives.”

“Clearly you need to adventure more, Vicky. PCs thrive on being perpetually pore murderhobos. We’ll take any job available and make a rediculous plan to conform with our alignment.”

“Just be grateful we aren’t playing Dragonlance.”

“Oh gods, dude, don’t remind me. Loved the books, don’t get me wrong. But those tables were hell.”

"Rolling to slice the demon’s head off with my star knife-“

“It’s a piercing weapon-”

“Whatever. Did I hit it?”

“…yes,…and it looks like you critical’d. Good job.”

“Yatta! The dice are in my favor!”

(cont.)

“Be really careful when saying that. These things are just as likely to turn on you as a voter on election day.”
“Sounds like someone needs to git gud.”

“Have you ever seen a table flip? It’s not a pretty sight.”

“Tone it down. Fitz, it’s your turn.”

“Finally! Okay…hmm…I have a sword…not much to work with here…”

“You could always try grappling-”

“NO/ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

“I’m…sorry?”

“Just…/It’s…”

“You go ahead.”

“Thanks, Brady. Look, MacKay, as useful as grappling is…it just tends to devolve into a hot mess of calculations and rules-lawyering.”

“Ah. Then disregard that notion, Fitz. May I suggest stabbing the kobold?”

“That was always the plan from the beginning. Rolling to hit the guy that pricked me with the damn thing.”

“…again?!”

“…oh fuck.”

“…that’s not good.”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

“…let me go grab the natural failure table. This might hurt you more than it does me…”

“What the fuck is up with these dice, Sawbones! I demand a refund! You loaned me crooked dice!

“I’m inclined to agree with her. Three natural ones in a single session is bullshit, even for me!”

“Sorry. Rules are rules. And the card says that…”

"Next time we have game night, we're playing something without bullshit critfails."

"Anything but Monopoly. I lost friendships because of that godforsaken game."

"Don't forget UNO. That plus-four card can really ruin someone's day."

"Fitz, you drop your sword."

"...shit."

"And promptly take a polearm to the face..."

"...I can't take the suspense. Am I alive?"

"...and you somehow managed to shrug it off for only one damage. Well done."

"Damn right I did a good job."

Had to leave you guys with a stinger. Can't help myself.

If the thread's still open when I wake up, I'll answer some questions if you have any.

===================

Gonna archive it in a few minutes.

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Hope y'all have a good night/morning/day/afternoon wherever you based anons are.

LAST POST! I WANNA FUG MOH SHUVUU!

>>46239956
FUCK YOU, HIGH PIXIE FOR LIFE