Against All Odds - Fantasy Post-Apoc/Genesys RPG (CLOSED)

[KamiKahzy]

Act 1 - Chapter 1
Location: The Wastes

Story Points
PCs: 5
GM: 2

The winds groaned along the desolate plain, causing the short, amber grasses to sway against the cracked soil. The darkened sky above was stained magenta from the sickly rays of the black sun. Clouds were gathering overhead, and the distant booming heralded the rain and wind on the horizon. What light there was would soon be gone as the clouds billowed thick and black against the noon sky. There wasn't a landmark to be had for miles around, so vast was and desolate was this particular plain. Except for one. A single tiny hill sloped above the brown plains, barely more than a mound by all accounts. On one side there was an opening, presumably some burrow to beasts unknown. Here was a place one might take shelter. And it was a good thing too, because this mound was almost a mystery to those that didn't know it.

And it was a curious thing that a strange few wanderers had found it at all. They had all made pilgrimage to this place, not even truly knowing why. They might have heard a rumor at a dive in whatever settlement they hailed from, or perhaps they answered the odd tugging at their chest that told them to follow. But for whatever reason, these disparate souls had managed to converge at this most unlikely of spots, and were steadily making way towards the only shelter to be had on this blighted plain.

As they approached they began to see another detail of the mound laid out beside it. A ragged tarp had been erected against the mound and fashioned into a shade, and beneath it was a figure wrapped in fraying sackcloth. He sat huddled in his rags, cross legged and clutching a gnarled wooden staff between his bony hands. What remained of his hair was wild and unkempt, falling about his shoulders in long, wispy strands. His skin was sallow and sagged about his face like old cloth. Yet there was a fading alertness to his one good eye, the one without the raking scar across it, that twinkled with acknowledgement as he saw the ragtag group approach him. His face crinkled into a smile that revealed the scant few teeth he had left in his head. His arms shook as he lowered his staff into his lap and looked up at the individuals who graced his vision. He spoke with a raspy voice that marked his age, his experience, and likely a lifelong habit of chewing thornweed.

"Weeell now, wot a sight be this. Le's take a look at'cha, eh?"


GM Note: Players, please introduce your characters as they come face-to-face with the mysterious force that has unknowingly drawn them together on this blasted frontier.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

A gaunt looking man slowly walked across the amber sea of dried grass. With each step he took, a quiet crunch broke the constant hum of the groaning wind. The earth, cracking under the pressure of the man's weight, became closer to being sand than soil. The man, in one hand, held a spear... but truly it had become more of a walking stick as the man's feet blistered and swelled from his long journey. No longer did this man stand proud at attention as a guard, but rather his shoulders sagged and leaned forward, a common ailment of deserters. Perhaps, this wanderer had finally arrived at his destination? Josef asked himself if he had walked far and long enough. How long had it been since he left? His clothes were still in tact, which... to him was a sign that he had not traveled far enough. Yet, he needed some respite... yes... he deserved it... or so he lied to himself.

Ahead, a small hill stuck out like a pimple on the flat plains. There... he told himself. There he would lean on the earth and take a break. There was a spot good as any for him to stop. Why that spot? The man didn't know. He did not care. It was there. That was his destination, yes. Yet, as the tired man approached, he noticed that his oasis was not alone. Nay, a tarp, betrayed his dreams... there was someone else here. The man tensed and gripped his spear as he walked to the tarp. As he took cautious step after step, the man saw an older, weathered man, sitting under the tarp with a toothy grin. From that same mouth a tired breath came out

"Weeel now, wot a sight be this. Le's take a lok at'cha, eh?"

Summoning the practiced authoritative voice he had long used in his past, the man tiredly replied "Hail! What is your business being here?" as he kept a grip on his spear. His past was always trying to catch him... he would not let that happen no matter what form his past took on.

 

[Red Shadow Claws]

He had heard the call weeks ago, coming to him in his dreams. At first, it was just a distant dream, but as the months went by, it became more urgent, and more common. Always he had run, pursued by demons, and hounded at every corner by people who seemed to know his secret. As the months went by, he would lose much sleep, as he'd wake up at night from the nightmare, covered in sweat, even in the chill of the night.
Those who knew him thought he was sick, or possessed, and stayed away, until he was forced to leave the place he had known behind, and seek to find this mysterious hill that haunted his dreams.

He did not know how much time has passed, as it seemed that the dream had taken over him even in daytime. It felt like days, but could well have been months. And then, when he neared the place, he saw from a distance, another figure making it's way there. Was that another person haunted by such dream? or maybe one of those who knew his secret, and they were also converging here to trap him? Nervously, he glanced about, doing his best, and failing, to remain hidden.

With a sudden energy, the fat man jumped and started running towards the hill, hoping against hope to reach it before the other figure did. His breathing coming heavy, even a few steps into his run, and his sweat pouring out. He run like he hasn't run in years, and yet, he still fell behind. And his feet got him to the place where the tarp was seconds after the gaunt man, bursting like an elephant in a china store. "By all that is holy! drop your weapon, or I will be required to harm you!" All this was said while he was wheezing, and he felt like he could vomit right here and there.

 

[KamiKahzy]

Act 1 - Chapter 1
Location: The Wastes

Story Points
PCs: 5
GM: 2

The old man that sat before the two strangers raised his hands in a shaky, calming motion. "Whooooa brothers. Le's no' be drawin' blood. Not when ye both came lookin' fer somethin'." The old man's smile was disarmingly honest, but it only held for a moment before a coughing fit came over him and he doubled over in pain. His back arched and shook violently, and the spasms that came forth were loud, forcefully, and decisively painful in tone.

Once the man got hold of himself he carefully raised himself back up to his sitting posture, and stared up at the two men with a knowing glint in his tear-stained eye. "Ye be lookin' fer change, aye? A drop a' 'ope in an 'opeless land?"

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Josef looked at the rotund man stumbled towards him. His grasp on his spear tightened. Clearly this man was someone of importance to the demons seeing his privileged stature. Was he here to catch Josef? He was wary of the rotund man until the old man started to cough and wheeze. Once the Old Man ceased his fit, Josef heard the question that he posed. "Hope?" Josef spat out in response. "Hope has no purchase in these lands. Hope won't keep you fed in a famine. Hope won't stop a disgusting Lord from taking your daughter by force. Hope is worthless. You can keep it and let disappointment replace it in due time... if you even have enough in you." Josef stopped his little tirade and closed his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, he sighed and said "My apologies Old Man. I've been on a long, tiring journey and the last thing I want is someone sprouting out stuff about chance and hope. Words don't mean much to me. Only action does." Josef then approached the Old Man and said "Let me take a look at you Old Man... I'm more used to bandaging up my men and trying to keep their guts from spilling out, but I know a thing or two about helping someone in pain." (Medicine Roll/Check?)

 

[Red Shadow Claws]

Pashad stayed a wary distance from the man holding the spear, but he burst out laughing "Spoken like a lost one. Hope is the only thing that can give meaning to our lives at the moment. It is true that it might not help with all or most of the scenarios you mentioned, but it is the one thing that drives us humans to achieve things greater than ourselves."

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

"I have my health. I have my spear. Those are all I need to drive me. The only thing that you can rely on is yourself, not hope or meaning." Josef responded as he continued to work on helping the Old Man with his symptoms and trying to determine the cause of his illness or poor health. "Tell me. What are you all called from where you're from? I am known as Jo."

 

[Red Shadow Claws]

Pashad shakes his head. "Your health and your spear may be enough to drive you, but for man to achieve his potential, he must have hope, he must dream of a better future. I am pleased to meet you Jo, my name is P.." And then he stops for a moment. Dare he give this stranger his name? What if he is a servant of Mara? She always seeks to squash hope, and this one seems without it altogether... "Gelvan" He finally says.

Rolling Cunning + Deception against Jo's Willpower + Vigilance. (As an example, to see whether jo should believe his words.)


The dice rolled: 2 successes, 4 advantages, 1 failure, 1 threat

The end result: 1 success, 3 advantages

 

[KamiKahzy]

Act 1 - Chapter 1
Location: The Wastes

Story Points
PCs: 5
GM: 2

Roll Results:
Heyitsjiwon
Josef's time as a fighting man had taught him a few tricks about medicine, and the Old Man's symptoms seemed to be related to something with his breathing. Josef gently began to rub the Old Man's back and instructed him on a breathing technique that was meant to help soldiers with a punctured lung survive long enough for a patch job. It seemed to work, and after a few moments the Old Man's coughing died down and his breathing steadied.

Moreover, as the Old Man was coming around, Josef took stock of his symptoms and noticed a few signs that worried him. The specks of blood on his lips, the telltale whinge in his breathing, and the hoarseness of his voice were pointing to a long-term illness that the Old Man was somehow staving off. Josef couldn't be sure if it was Thorn Rot from his obvious habit, or if it was perhaps Black Lung from being worked in a mine. Whatever the case, something had gotten into the Old Man's lungs and could very likely kill him in less than a year if he wasn't given the proper medicines.


After catching his breath the Old Man looked up to Josef with a smile and thanked him. "Weeell, aint this a kindness. Nice to see summa that these days."

The Old Man looked like he was about to speak up again, but then his eyes lit up as he looked beyond Jo and Gelvan to fields behind them. "An' fortune o' fortunes! Wot a blessed day be this. Come along friends! Don' be shy!" The Old Man's grizzled cackle nearly set off his coughing again, but he remembered the breathing techniques and was able to control himself shortly.

Behind Jo and Gelvan, three more souls began to wander in from the Wastes. As varied as they could be, yet each was moving with purpose. They too didn't quite know exactly why they were here, but they gathered all the same at the lone hill in the middle of nothing.


GM Note: Crocodile Northless Crumbli , please introduce your characters now.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Josef shrugged at Gelvan. He could see his point, but didn't agree. Regardless, it was pedantic. Josef returned his focus to the Old Man and soon came to a disturbing conclusion. It was clear that the Old Man didn't have much to live... not without substantial medical care. He considered telling the man, but... he didn't have concrete answers as to what his illness was. The Old Man himself probably knew as well, so it was all wasted breath. So, Josef kept his mouth shut and continued to ask the man "What are you doing here, Old Man? These lands are not good for a older man like yourself. You should be in the comfort of a room and a bed."

 

[Crumbli]

KamiKahzy Heyitsjiwon Red Shadow Claws
A fair haired woman wipes her forehead in defeat. Her abnormally cloudy perspiration converges on any dip or ridge across her soft face and quickly races to fall from her. With her mouth slightly agape and an itch in her throat, the woman surveys the area one last time for any signs of her purpose. After spying nothing but flats of dead grass and sand she spits a thick mass of saliva onto the ground with a groan. "Mikael, you stupid binder." She stands for a moment trying to assess her current options. All she had to go off was Mikael's word on where he intended to go to gather supplies. He wasn't one to be late with his routines and even when he was two days was unheard of. She knew something was wrong, either he'd gotten lost or had been taken captive. He'd mentioned a nagging in the back of his mind about heading this way but she'd thought nothing of it. If he'd been manipulated by a demon under her watch, and she'd allowed it, she would never be able to forgive herself. These possibilities upset her to her core. Her stomach tightens and begins to do backflips. She couldn't return to her group empty handed and risk allowing her fellow freeman to fall into the hands of demons, and so she decides to rest the night and tackle the search again in the morning.

No place seemed suitable for her to rest however. The dead earth underfoot provided little in terms of shrubbery for her to hide inside. The only chance she had at reasonable shelter was to start digging or to head towards what appeared to be a distant mound and pray something lived there with room to share. At best it was a fellow waster who had cast off their shackles and empathised with her cause, and at worst it was a half demon lair. A gamble she was willing to make in this exhausted state. With a deep breath and a theatrically large step in the direction of the hill, she starts her new journey.

The trip was far shorter than the rest of her trek out into this middle of nowhere. Her feet ached and in the back of her head all she could see was the imagery of Mikael being tortured, or left dead after a robbery, or willfully submitting himself to a demon. These thoughts, she told herself, were nothing more than her mind playing tricks on her. That when she finds him he'll be fine and he'll have a perfect explanation for everything. Before more doubt can creep back in she finds herself staring at a tarp and what appears to be three men. In a moment of confusion she looks over her shoulder to witness two shadowy figures in the distance and returns her gaze to the three before her.

Panting heavily, she opens her mouth and announces her demands to the group. "Water. Names and water. I need both." She swallows down a mouthful of thick saliva and opens her mouth again. She taps her chest and introduces herself as politely as an exhausted defect slave could, making no effort to cover the large brand on the side of her face. "Silvia."

 

[Crocodile]

Marius had been coming this way for a time. The arena had only freed him a few months ago and he'd managed to do some violent work to get healing and food to recover from what wounds he'd taken in the Grand Melee at the Ironhand Pit. His helm was distinctive and many were surprised to see it outside of the arena. There they had seen it often spattered in blood or roaring out at the crowd, coaxing on cheers or boos for himself in grand spectacles of brutality and violence. He was a performer in his mind, his skill set was just more unique than some traveler with their stories and music. His performance was a show of ego and power in defiance of the odds set against them, crushing all foes before him but always in grandiose manners to keep the crowd coming back. You had to give them a show. Making them cheer and boo you. Play the champion and the fiend. It was the way of the arena. It kept you fed and tended to if you were good and he had shown talent.

His frame showed that well enough as he walked along through the grass, enjoying the sight of even this bleak plain. He was tall and built powerfully in a way only the wealthy or a well kept slave could manage. Gladiators might not get the best food, but they got plenty to make them large and strong for the Pit. They were practically bred for it, Marius himself born in the Pit creche just like his father had been before. Performing well got you better food and he'd done damn well, grown into one of the Pit's most impressive performers despite the efforts of the Pit Master to get him killed in matches several times. Now the massive man was free and he walked along happily. He broad chest bore the recent tattoo of a freed man next to the Ironhand tattoo he'd gotten young marking him as property of the Ironhand pit.

He sees the others as he approaches, looking like some hulking marauder though those who'd been to the pits would recognize the size and swagger of a gladiator. It was just odd to see one out. They were freed now and again for a major performance but most died in the Pit eventually instead. Marius' helm was imposing, a glaring skull but one few who'd been to the Ironhand pit couldn't forget after years of his fights. On his back was the handle of some large weapon, his broad frame concealing the head of an immense granite maul. He stops before the others and regards them, chuckling some at the mixture of figures.

"Well now, I find myself wanting to walk this way and find a meeting. It's either fortune or trickery but really I'm in too good a mood to care. Who stands before Marius Ironhand before he might have to spill blood? I like to know such things," Marius notes as he brings around his maul but the rather than wield it, sets its head on the ground before him to lean on the shaft for support in a typical display of gladiatorial bravado that was second nature to him.

 

[Northless]

Reah heard the storm brewing and remembered she was walking. She couldn't decide wether her thoughts were becoming too immersing or the scenery was too dull to pay attention to. She felt sweat sticking her shirt to her back and wondered how long has it been since she left the city. Two days, probably. She recalled having stopped to sleep at least once. It might have been two days.

Her stomach grumbled, and she took out a set of different thin keys and began to spin them between her fingers, one by one, until she had done it with all of them. Then repeat. It was a nice distraction. She inevitably ended up thinking on the one who gifted her the set: An old bald man, part of a travelling group. She never learnt his name, but they spent most of the time talking about many things, namely how to survive alone had the case arise. It was a sort of parting ways kind of gift, and Reah had hold onto it since then. She wonders where the man is.

A hill in the deserted place brought her back to reality. She hurriedly put her tools back and approached the place, a group already gathering. Would they be travelling? She listens to some of the introductions, flinching at the giant man's voice, and feels compelled to do it herself by the old's man one-eyed stare. "Reah, I am called. Water, could you spare? The way here has left me without any," Not that she actually had water, but good impressions foremost. "Are you on your way to a city? May I come along? My group has been disbanded on the way here. Any odd jobs you may need, I'll do."

 

[Red Shadow Claws]

Pashad looks at the newly-arrived figures. He visibly flinched when Marius introduced himself, but was curiously standing in some form of a guard stance, ready to take action. The other two disheveled figures, while less impressive, didn't present a direct threat like this Marius and Jo. He'd have to be careful, nobody knows who might be an agent of Mara, or one of the other demons. "My name is Gelvan, and like you, we have just arrived here, so if there are water to be found, you'd have to ask the old man here..." and he turns to look at him and says "I don't recall you giving us your name..."

 

[Crumbli]

Silvia watches the hulking figure of a man who dwarfed her by a foot throw his maul around. All of this confidence while in the armour of a rich man's toy. All of this confidence, and boasting, while willfully carrying a surname like 'Ironhand.' He was nothing but a slave still in bondage. A man yet to cast off his shackles or one who'd amused his demon masters into letting him waste what little life he had left as a 'free man.' He was nothing more than a symbol of how worthless our lives meant to them. His power wasn't scary, it was pitiful. Like looking at a lion kept as a house cat. Others may have quaked at his sight but she didn't fear him. There was no glory to be had in harming any of them, unless he was somehow the toy of one of these figures around her. She sucks in her cheeks and spits at the man's chest, the projectile falling short due to weight she'd failed to take into the equation. She takes a shallow breath and quickly spends it on an accompanying insult. "Binder."

She turns her back on the gladiator and looks to the woman who now proclaimed herself to be Reah. She spoke in a strange, fragmented way. She stops listening after the woman begins to talk about being left without any water. Perhaps she was a slave too once. Perhaps she still is. Silvia takes another look around at the group around her. Had she stumbled into the middle of a slave deal guarded by a gladiator and a guard? She stares at the pale guard for longer than she should trying to see anything that might give him away. She finds nothing on him. He had what appeared to be a few scars and he was lean, normal features of a free person or a guard. A wave of panic washes over her and yet she chooses to remain calm. If she'd stumbled on a slave deal, she would use her brand to find her companion Mikael and they'd find a way to escape.

Silvia looks to the most common, yet ironically the most well to do, member of the assembled band. If anyone was selling the slaves or arranging the slave deal it would be him. He didn't look strong. If anyone joined her at all he could be dead in seconds. Slaves freed, mouths fed from the coins in his pockets. Yet there was something about the story she'd constructed that didn't sit right with her. He couldn't be a slave seller. In her overthinking she finds herself confused and lowers herself to sit down on the ground beside the old man. Perhaps the lack of water was getting to her more than she'd realised. She looks to his old, wrinkled face and asks, "Water and name?"

 

[Crocodile]

Marius turned his gaze towards the woman who had insulted him, regarding her for a moment before he took in the tattoo on her denoting her as a slave. A runaway perhaps? One of the few with enough willpower to bother trying to free themselves? He was a prideful man, but she was not worthy of his wrath. A laborer mewling at one who'd dared to free themselves with the skills he'd had not choice but to develop to survive and thrive. Marius gives a booming laugh.

"Binder am I? Says the one who was likely always so close to the Masters they could have slit their throats. I was a performer, giving people some form of release to keep going. As if I had choice. Bet you gave the Masters true delight, made their lives soft and easy," Marius snidely said as he just held his stance before looking to the others now as if the slave wasn't worth his time to even get angry.

 

[KamiKahzy]

Act 1 - Chapter 1
Location: The Wastes

Story Points
PCs: 5
GM: 2

The Old Man gently raised his hands up in a submissive gesture to try and disperse the rising tensions building within the group. "Peace... Peace, friends. No one here wants harm on any o' ye." There was that odd twinkle in the Old Man's eye again, and for any that cared to look they would feel the sense that he spoke a deep truth. An unknowable truth, but a truth all the same.

The man let his arms rest again in his lap as he began to answer the group's collective curiosity. "You'se can call me Opta. Or gramps. Or 'old man'. Don't matter to me, I fu'get what I'm called most days too." The old man's laugh came back and shook his tiny torso, much more controlled this time but still with a hint of a wheeze near the end. Opta cleared his throat before continuing, "An' iffin its water ye seek..." He shakily gestured towards the cave entrance, which was just large enough to let a man like Marius duck his head to enter its depths, "...then there it be. But there's a trick." Opta then took his staff in his hands and, with great effort, managed to raise himself up onto his feet. Or rather, his foot. Even beneath his tattered rags it was clear to see that the old man was missing the lower half of his left leg, and those that peered closer would see a knot of old scar tissue bunched up just below the kneecap.

Still, even though Opta's hands shook he managed to hop himself over to the entrance of the cave and made a passing wave towards it with the hand that wasn't clutching his staff for support. "Other things live in there what need the water. Might be a beast or two, but the leech bats be the worst of it." That name would strike a chord with anyone halfway familiar with the tales of Redfont and the vampires that lorded over it. Leech bats were a special brand of lesser demon that were designed and bred by vampires as a means to expand their power against neighboring rivals. They were 'bats' in the sense that they were warm blooded and used membranous tissues instead of feathers to attain flight, but their bodies more resembled leeches with a long, elongated body and several tiny appendages they used to latch onto their prey while their circular mouths tore into the flesh and allowed the blood to flow. They flew in swarms and could drain a man dry in minutes while hunting together.

Opta motioned towards his lean-to tarp before addressing the group at large, "I've done fooled 'em by hidin' under me cloths, but iffin you'se wants the water you'se best be drivin' 'em out. 'Specially 'fore the rains keep 'em bottled up in there." The old man spoke the truth, the rains over Leth were sour and seared any skin that was left uncovered. Most demons even preferred to remain indoors during a storm, and beasts of all kinds knew better than to leave their shelter during a storm.

Opta's eye twinkled once more as he hopped over to his seat under the tarp and spoke in a nonchalant tone, "Might be you'se can do it... Iffin ye work together."

Heyitsjiwon Red Shadow Claws Crocodile Northless Crumbli

 

[Red Shadow Claws]

Pashad eyed the strange man suspiciously "So this is a test of sorts. And if these demons get out, we'll be in a lot more trouble than we hope. So I, for one, would prefer to destroy them, and let none of them escape." He looks around the others. trying to gauge their reaction.

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Josef sighed as others showed up too. The situation was just odd. A deserter, a rotund man, a gladiator champion, a run away slave, and jumpy street rat... what an ensemble they had here. Why they had all come to the middle of nowhere, with no food or water. Perhaps this was fate like the old man mentioned. Or, maybe they were just a ship of fools, stultifera navis. Mad men who were cast out of whatever godforsaken city, and destined to be expelled and contained away from society. For the mad are dangerous and ambiguous figures as they speak the truth in fables. After all, at the very core of reason was folly. Regardless, it was clear to him that they were all fools, drifting away from civilization and landing on a remote island.

"I don't know about the rest of you, but I haven't seen a single source of fresh water for almost a week at this point." Josef spoke out as he lifted his empty waterskin. "Unless yall want to try and drink the rain... I don't think we'll find much water around here." he continued as he walked around a bit, making the dry grass and cracked earth crumple beneath his feet. "We really only have one choice... if the Old Man is right, then we're going to need that water if anyone is going to continue their journey or keep living for the next few days." Josef took his spear and walked towards the mouth of the cave. "Anyone else going to keep fighting for their lives? It would be a shame to die from thirst after what I imagine we all have been through. Might as well die fighting. It's quicker."

Josef then began to look around the mouth of the cave to see if he could find any hints about the animals that lived in the cave, foot prints, and even droppings. They could all be helpful and let Josef know what to expect inside the cave.

1

2019-04-11 00:28:31 UTC

1 Ability, 1 Proficiency, 1 Difficulty

2 successes, 1 threat

 

[Crumbli]

Silvia goes to snap back at the gladiator, her irritation noticeable from a glance. As the old man tells her to calm herself however she can do nothing but follow his instructions. He seemed an agreeable soul and as such he likely meant the words he spoke. She frowns as he tells the group that he himself had no water and follows his finger towards the cave entrance. If she'd learned anything she knew that cave provided good shelter and likely bad company. She quickly looks to her left as she hears the old man move around and continues watching him as he pulls himself up on his old gnarled staff. His missing leg meant little to her short of a painful story he'd have to share with either encouragement to her cause or a wisdom to the wastes. Both she was willing to pass up on at this point in time.
Then he mentions the leech bats. Silvia slowly rises to her feet and stares unwavering at the entrance of the cave. She'd heard of them, knew that they could only do painful things, but had never actually seen one for herself. Her group made a conscious effort to steer clear of them and most other harmful beings - lesser demons taking the top of those lists. She looks at the old man once again and hesitates a second. "Thanks for the warning, I guess."

Silvia considers turning but the rains would harm her the same as the leeches and while she didn't like the idea of sharing a cave with them she liked the idea of hiking in the rain even less. She'd done it before and it was never an enjoyable experience. She hears a one of the party members speak and looks at the commoner. His heart was in the right place, and she agreed with his ends but now wasn't the time and they lacked the most basics of essentials. She looks out on the plains and back towards the most polite man of the two with weapons. His speech was lost on her. Death wasn't something she aimed towards. She wanted to live and that water let her live. "No name. Not dying here. Drink the water, not hunting." She points towards the gladiator with a smug grin. "He does it. Dying is what he was bred for. Make it entertaining, binder."

 

[Northless]

Reah took a moment to realize none of them were joking, and had to remind herself to breathe. Judging by their reactions, whatever a leech bat was was a serious deal. A mortal deal. She drummed her hands on her leg, let every worst case scenario pass though her mind before straightening herself up and walk towards the thin stranger, a cautious tone in her voice. "Not dying sounds good. Could we, if I can ask, fight against them, and win?"

Not that Reah would've be too confident of the odds of that, but she had to try to show them she wouldn't be a load. She needed the water, too. And the storm was still brewing, cold and distant, in the background.

 

[Crocodile]

"Pull your own weight, house slave," Marius sneers back at her but looks to the others as he seemed to dismiss her presence.

"If we need the water and shelter, I'm all for killing the damn things. Better now to drive them out before the rains keep them here. I'm not afraid of battle, just don't feel like having all my blood leeched out inglriously. If you lot are going int for it to, you have my help," Marius stated simply and shrugged his broad shoulders as he stood up and put his maul on his back. "Going to have to do this probably the hard way, I won't go swinging my lovely around with potential companions in the way."

He'd fought on sides before, it was a type of match the Pits liked at times. Teams of different colors battling it out for the victory. Sometimes to the death but just as readily to incapacitate as the arena was sometimes frugal and didn't like loosing local favorites to the chaos of group battles.

 

[KamiKahzy]

Act 1 - Chapter 1
Location: The Wastes

Story Points
PCs: 5
GM: 2

Roll Results:
Heyitsjiwon

Looking into the cave Josef notices the subtle signs that small, flying creatures might have left. The scores of tiny scratches left in the roof of the cave mouth and the faint remnants of white/red fecal matter left in the dirt beneath his feet. But looking down is when Josef notices something else he wasn't expecting, a stray paw print left behind leading up to the cave's entrance. It was faint, and the only reason it hadn't been washed away by rain or wind is because it had been made in the exact spot where the overhang of the cave mouth offered a modicum of shelter from the heavens above. The print was large, about the size of a man's hand, and had four distinct pads with claw marks above each that had dug into the soil. Possibly canine, but Josef couldn't be sure due to the deteriorated nature of the print. It was an old print by at least a week if not more, and there were no prints that seemed to match it leading back out of the cave. Whatever had made it could still be inside.

Unfortunately as Josef leaned down to inspect these prints further he leaned a bit too close to the cave's mouth and accidentally knocked a rock loose. It rolled forward down the slight incline that led further into the cave, rattling and cracking against other stones on the way down. A tense moment passed, and from within Josef could hear a faint rustling and a small chorus of a chattering, screeching sort. Thankfully the noise died down after a few moments more, but now Josef was sure that he had almost awoken something within the cave.

 

[Red Shadow Claws]

Pashad looks at josef "What is it you see there?"

 

[Heyitsjiwon]

Josef would turn back to the group and tell them of his findings. "Those bloodsuckers are around, for sure... but it looks like a huge wolf... maybe a bear? Might be in the cave too." as he pointed at the large foot print. He didn't like the idea of going into the cave... it would be dark and cramped. Rather, he always believed in being in an advantageous position where the enemy must attack while he sits in a prepared position. He would speak up "Given what I saw... I think it might be best if we could get a large fire going. Use the smoke and force whatever is in the cave to come towards us where we'll be ready with an ambush... walking in a dark, cramped cave... doesn't sound too good. Regardless, we're going to need some fire no matter what we choose to do. It'll probably be too dark in there for us to see without any light."