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File: Title Card 29.png (2.02 MB, 4360x2008)
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You are Purps, a Starborn. You don't remember much or feel much. But with how hectic your recent life has been, you've rapidly developed certain emotions and grown in power and enemies.

Between your weird dreamwalking abilities, flashbacks and being told by a crazy past self. You've got some puzzle pieces that you can try and fit together, which has brought you to Murillo. A derelict estate that you used to own two identities ago. There, an ancient wolf girl awaited you.

Continued From: >>1161492

"It's good to meet you."You say with a forced smile. You have to bite your gum a little to bite back the tears,"This place is quite a mess isn't it?"

"It is, frightfully so."She says, pulling herself up to her full seated height with obvious discomfort,"Poor Butler can't keep up with all the cleaning." She covers her hand like she said some scandalous joke.

The golem in question shakes to life at the mention of his name and blinks for a second before stomping over to Zelam's side like a well trained dog. "At least he seems very obedient. I'm afraid my companions aren't quite so." You find yourself making the same mouth covering gesture.

"Vell Ve don't all follow ze glorious Starborn master race." Hona quips sticking out her tongue.

"I don't recall having done anything particularly bad Purps." Luc protests furiously as he clenches his fist and frowns.

"We are in polite company."You growl,
"I can remind you later."The temperature sharply rises as you intimidate the child.

"Speaking of these matters, Purps.You have yet to introduce your companions." Zelam councils.

"This is Seargeant Honamurei,Grinnsmon's finest sword."You gesture grandly and your friend has the manners to half bow."This is Luc Maddison-Remy. Attendant to Captain Matthieu Maddison-Remy of Grinnsmon."

Luc bows low,"It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Zelam, I am honoured by your hospitality."

He finds his hair being ruffled and you stifle a chuckle at the outrage on his face."Such a polite boy you are." Zelam coos,"And for a guardswoman you carry a certain air of class yourself Miss Honamurei."

"Vell we can't all be Ladies and Lords can ve?" She offers.

Zelam cackles,"Are they still calling me Lady? Like I'm some lost princess?" She practically shrieks before being racked by coughs.

"Vell you vere introduced to us by that name."Honamurei says stonefaced, ever hating be the butt of a joke.

"Well I guess I should smack my Felicia one." She adjusts the fur aorund her ears, "But we are just dancing around the true subject aren't we, ""Purps"" She steers conversation back to you.

"Yes. We are."You admit, not really wanting to end the small talk.

> Could we have some privacy Luc, Hona?

> [WORRY] Are you sure you two want to be here for this?

> [RELIEF] It''ll probably be best to get this out in the open.

> Write-In
>>
>>1163749
> [RELIEF] It''ll probably be best to get this out in the open.
Awoo.
>>
Shill Stuff and Character Sheets:


Tw: @StarbornQ
Cs: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1csg7vC-Yz10aAqk9ZwdCNv24obLGTtM5p6bKkPq1Pgc/edit#heading=h.74gk3dg6mvjp
Discord Invite: https://discord.gg/xM2aCYq

Starborn Thread 0: https://yuki.la/qst/486356
Starborn Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Starborn
Cabin Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Cabin
What Came Next Archive:
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?searchall=what+came+next
Lewd Pastebin: http://pastebin.com/u/StarbornOP
Discord Commands: ?rank [StarbornQuest][CabinQuest][WCNQuest]
>>
>>1163749

> [RELIEF] It''ll probably be best to get this out in the open.
>>
>>1163749
> [RELIEF] It''ll probably be best to get this out in the open.
>>
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>>1163787
>>1163783
>>1163755

"Well it'll probably be best to get this out in the open." You take a deep breath, "Pull up a chair guys." You offer.

Luc just settles on the floor, Hona steals the arm of the armchair you've sat down on.

"It's been quite a while since I've had an audience." Zelam says wistfully, "Let me see if I have one more story in these old bones."

The door behind you creak open, "Felicia either get your little ass sat down or I'll get up and kick it!" Zelam suddenly screeches.

The little girl from earlier """Eeps"""" and scampers into the room before sliding onto the floor next to Luc.

"Now then.... I'll start, at the end." Zelam says sadly.

You are Laurelai

Dinner is cut short by a scream

You are Laurelai, mother of twenty pups and right now the fastest woman on Munis. rumbling into the hallway you here crashes upstairs, one of the boys is shouting and cursing out into the yard. Your husband isn't home, his co workers are probably still at the table where you left them.

Need to do something. Need to do something.

> Get your son in the yard

> BUTLER

> Continue runnign towards scream

> Write-In
>>
>Run
>>
>>1163815
> Continue runnign towards scream
Screams are usually a bad thing.
>>
>>1163815

> Continue running towards scream.
>>
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>>1163834
>>1163824
>>1163851

You sprint down the hallway and turn left, toppling a vase given to you for your birthday in you flight.

You think that was Marie, you hope to Octavius that wasn't Marie. If that was Marie then Gabriel will be on the prowl and that means that he'll have his swords on hand.

You hear a gunshot from outside, roars in the dining room you just left. The whole world seems to explode into noise, like the very wood of the estate has awoken from a great terror.

You burst into Marie's room with all the strength of a Mama Geer defending it's den. There you see your sweet pup, Marie. Her purple fur is bloody, torn and ragged from where cuts have wormed their way between her unnaturaly thick fur, but all fades out of focus as you process the knife in her chest, with a blonde human standing over her. A path of blood lies between your daughter and her assailant, from where your daughter had begun meekly crawing away.

The stranger looks over her shoulder at you, eyes dull and disinterested. "Oh, another one of you." She says. "How lucky for me."

She turns her back on Marie, moving her arm out to the side and filling her small tender hands with a fistful of knives.
Your hands begin shaking and your eyes tear up, this monster is in your home. She hurt your pup. She dares. She dares. If Athur were here he'd -

She steps closer slowly, navigating the remains of Marie's desk, "Maybe a human will be more sport than an animal." She muses.

> Lead her away from Marie

> Lunge at her

> BUTLER

> Write-In
>>
>>1163861
> Lunge at her
Yell "BUTLER" while you're at it
>>
>Lunge
RIP AND TEAR
>>
>>1163863
Second.
>>
>>1163871
>>1163869
>>1163863

Roll 1d20 pls.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d20)

Punch wall
>>
Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>1163874
Here goes.
>>
Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>1163874
>>
>>1163886
>>1163882
>>1163878

You find your blood boiling and lunge right for this assasin like some kind of beast. You fly through air and are prepared to bring golem-y wrath upon her "Bu-"

A fist collides with your sternum and you crumple to the ground, The girl's eyes haven't even changed expression as she delivers a follow up kick to your ribs, sending you across the room and into a wall with a sickening thud.

"Mother!" Marie screams.

You manage to open your eyes and see one of Marie's suitor's gifts sprawled on the floor next to you. You manage to roll over, ignoring the the large spike of wood in your leg as best you can.

Adrenaline thrums in your veins as you lasp your fingers around the ice cold metal. You rise to one knee, bleeding profuseley as you glare at the lady.

"Get away from my daughter you bitch." You spit between gasps.

"No." She calmly replies, flicking her wrist. The knife flies faster than your eyes follow, but judging by the sickening squelch and the sudden end of Marie's panicked sobbing and heaving... she just killed your daughter.

> BUTLER

> Weep

> Throw disc

> Flee

> Write-In
>>
>>1163893
>Tactical retreat
>BUTLERBUTLERBUTLERBUTLERBUTLER
Golems are kinda strong right?
>>
>>1163899
This.
Nice dubs by the way
>>
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>>1163946
>>1163899

Your mind goes blank and you flee, legs hammering on the floor as the house erupts in warfare around you.

A knife whistles behind you and you through yourself into the doorway next to you, your wouonded leg buckles from the change in direction. With a small cry you tumble to the ground, blinking your eyes back into focus and you find yourself in a small foodstore. Light falls into the room from a lantern, the kicked up dirt and must of this room spinning in the artifical sunbeam.

The lady's calm foosteps follow you, as you cower and retreat further into the storeroom. "nononono." You whisper as the light is obscured by a busty and slender frame.

"Any last words." She asks with a tired smile.

"BUTLERRRRRR!" You scream.

You feel a sense of outrage fill your mind and the ground shakes.

She smiles wider, "Foolish. You think a butler can-"

The wall to your right explodes inwards and a fist larger than a cooling box plunged into your assailant's face. Your ever faithful Butler's hook sends the bitch through the wall with the sound of a whip's crack.

He looks to you with concern in his glowing crystal eyes. Madame his voice says inside your mind.

> Kill Her

> Get me to the radio room

> Protect me

> Write-in
>>
Murder
>>
>>1163962
>Kill her so hard she'll die to her death!
>>
>>1163962

> Kill Her

Man those rolls earlier nasty
>>
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>>1163977
>>1163967
>>1163966

"Rip her fucking head off." You order. Not even pausing as your beloved Butler charges through the wall roaring a challenge. You pull yourself to your feet, the shrapanel embedded in your leg making the action longer and more painful than you'd like.

But you soldier on, adrenaline keeping you on your feet where normally you would falter. The serrated edged disc clutched depserately in one hand as you exit the sotreroom.

Automatic gunfire screams out fromt he first floor, the yard sounds like there are scores of combatants and you can hear your maid screaming a challenge down in the wine cellar.

It's all too much. What do you do? you're a housewife... you sing and nurse children... what are you to do? You're not a soldier.

> Wine Cellar

> Yard

> Upstairs

> Find Gabriel

> Head for Radio Room

> Write-In
>>
>Be a soldier
>>
>>1163995
>Be a soldier
>>
>>1164021
>>1164010

I need expanding on this idea.

I read it as; find someone to murder.

So yeah, pick a direction and we'll be ready for war when we get there.
>>
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>>1164045
We're all soldiers now
Go through the Wall hole into the cellar
>>
>>1164051

If nobody chimes in we're going with this.
>>
>>1163995


> Wine Cellar

I mean can we make fire bombs out of the wine?

Also when we fight we should be talking to the bad guys how rude there are been in this house, house wife mum sculd them
>>
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>>1164051
>>1164021
>>1164010
>>1164165

But you are a mother.

You look down at the wood embedded in your leg, bracing yourself and sliding the serrated disc into your mouth you bite firmly.

With one hand you press the skin of your thigh apart, widening the wound slightly to allow your other hand to pull the wooden spike free of your leg in an agonizing trial. Screaming into the metal clenched between your teeth you retrieve the bloodied wooden spike.

It take tremendous force of will to convince your hand to loosen, allowing the bloodied shrapanel to fall to the ground with a clatter. yo lean heavily on the wall for a moment, returning the dic to your hand ready for combat even asr leg continue to scream it's pain in your mind.

Each step is a task, but you pull yourself through the hole in the wall. Dropping to the ground ungracefully, you find the floor sporting the scars of Butler and that bitch's battle.

More than that, you find one of you beautiful boys. His eyes, as bright blue as his father's stare at you sightlessly while you find your feet.

In the centre of his pale tender young face a crimson circle. Marking his fate as a small line of blood runs down to the floor.

The fury in your mind is red hot, burning and tearing at the edges of your mind. Your wound is forgotten as you stride past Julien, everyting forgotten in lieu of revenge. You will make these barbarians pay.

You navigate the hallways, a normally simple task suddenly a challenge as your adrenaline soaked brain finds the passage labrynthine in their complexity. But soon you are in the wine cellar, where your loyal maid, Wassen is wielding a hatchet.

Behind her the triplets all huddle in terror, staring with wide eyes at the young woman before them. Draped for a funeral, all in black; she wear garb befitting a noble. Her only eccentricity is a black top hat like Arthur wore for his business meetings - listing slightly to the left as she studies the bodies surrounding your wounded maid.

"I apologise for not ending your life quickly. I thought allowing you a last stand would ease your dying soul. I now see objecting you and the children to a longer life was cruel." From behind you see her wipe at her face.

"Feck off Corpse whore." Wassen shouts, "To Hell with you."

"So rude." The woman solds, a wave of her hand bringing the two corpses Wassen had cut down back to life and to her side. "Soon all of your children will be mine." She bends down locking eyes with your babies as the zombies restitch magically. "I bet you three will be my favourites." She coos.

> Disc to the head

> Tackle her

> Distract her

> Write-In
>>
>>1164183
> Disc to the head, and the SPIN KICK
>>
>>1164183


> Distract her

Wine to the face
>>
>>1164183

Seconding >>1164200 because muthafuckin' SPIN KICK
>>
>>1164215
>>1164200

With our fucked up leg?? Or the good one?
Ether way not going to end well for us
Also we are not fighters so distracting and ordering is better for us
>>
>>1164225
Hmm...fair logic.

Changing support to >>1164209, start throwing shit.
>>
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>>1164228
>>1164225
>>1164215
>>1164209
>>1164200

With a flash of inspiration, you begin fumbling at the rack of wine next to you. Needing time, you shout at her, "What kind of lady doesn't introduce herself to the mistress of the house?"

She turns to you.

"Mummy!" The triplets shriek causing the intruder to giggle in amusement.

Until you hit her in the face with a bottle of wine.

"Reprobate!" She screams, directing one of her corpse servants towards you as she rapidly begins trying to pull glass from her bleeding face.

Wassen screams a battlecry and the creature opposite her emits a low keening sound.

Your foe is silent as it steps towards you on dead and rotten legs.

> Flee

> Throw the disc at it.

> Tackle the intruder

> Tell your babies to flee.

> Write-In
>>
>Tell babies to flee
>don´t we have a lighter or something? she´s covered in wine.
>Throw the disc at it, tackle the intruder.
>>
>>1164263
>>1164290
I support the doll man.
>>
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>>1164336
>>1164290

Going to need a 1d20. Best of 3.
>>
Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>1164371
>>
Rolled 18 (1d20)

Be a badass
>>
Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>1164371
>>
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>>1164396
>>1164384
>>1164375

"Ko, run with your sisters!" You scream as you throw the bladed disc underarm at the zombie. hearing it stick with a satisfying schlick.

The monster maker see your kids running and is about to point at them with some kind of hex on her lips. You tackle her, and ram her head into the gorund with as much force as you can muster.

She squeals and tries to rake at your eyes but you clench your fist to punch and.

With the sound of ripping and tearing you're doused in zombie blood. A thin trail of wire returns the disc to your hand, giving you a weapon with which to end this bitch's life.

Your momentary wonder allows her to get her feet under your chest and kick you back, you roll with it, coming up on your feet in the entranceway to the cellar again. Wassen and the zombie tussling against the far wall while the necromancer glares at you in rage.

It grabs her around the throat and squeezes, she kicks at the beast feebly as her strength saps under that unholy unnatural grip.

"You'll regret that." The woman growls under her breath drawing a short umbrella.

> Wassen is lost, flee

> Fight the necromancer

> ???????? ????

> Write-In
>>
>>1164423
>> ???????? ????

Because mystery box, I don't want to leave Wassen, and if we just up and fight the necromancer, I think we'll lose.
>>
>>1164423
>?????????????????
MYSTERY BOX
>>
>>1164448
>>1164444

ROLL 1D20
>>
Rolled 14 (1d20)

*Insert Shilling Doll Quest*
>>
Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>1164476
Mm.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>1164476
No worries
>>
Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>1164476
>>
>>1164485
NO WORRIES
>>
>>1164423
I hope we find out who these people are so we can hunt their descendants down and sow their legs to their shoulders and their arms to their hips.

>>1164290
>>1164165
Wine didn't have a high enough alcohol content to catch on fire.
>>
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>>1164491
>>1164487
>>1164485
>>1164482
>>1164481

"OCTAVIUS" You invoke your god's name feeling some fire within you, but your foe is a trained killer despite her eccentricities.

At the sign of power from you she makes a gesture and barks a command word, ending a streak of black light hurtling towards your left arm.

It stings for just a moment, but it is a moment of agony that forces you to scrunch your eyes. With a sickening snap her zombie finishes it's dreadful work depositing the corpse of your maid in a heap in front of it's master like a cat with a dead bird.

Looking down, you see your left hand. Severed at the wrist; spurts of blood spring forward even as the red liquid pools and stains the wine cellar.

You move your arm and stare at the surgically clean cut, her magic having been as precise as it was powerful.

"I see we have left you doubly shorthanded." The woman says lifting her dress as she walks past the rapidly spreading pile of blood. "So I will allow your beloved hound to be your final companion while I hunt the vermin who have sprung from your womb."

It is taking everything you have not to go into shock as the blood continues to pour.

"Goodbye, Lady of the Deadhouse." She intones as smoky tendrils begin to wrap around the corpse of Wassen. Some part of your mind is screaming at you to get up, to fight, to run to act.

But at the fore are images of your family's extinction at the hands of these monsters. You, dying alone from bloodloss in this wine cellar. The triplets butchered and reanimated. The knife in Marie's chest.

Arthur... returning to a Deadhouse.

> Use the disc on Wassenstein

> Flee from Wassenstein

> Break the lantern and burn the wine cellar

> Write-In
>>
>>1164635

It's weird. It's like I foreshadow shit isn't it?
>>
>>1164639
> Break the lantern and burn the wine cellar
Fire is fun.
>>
>>1164639
> Break the lantern and burn the wine cellar
>>
>>1164687
>>1164681

1d20 please?
>>
Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>1164736
Are you sure?
>>
Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>1164736
Fine...
>>
Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>1164736
>>
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>>1164740
>>1164739
>>1164737
>>1164687
>>1164681
>>1164644

You managed to make it to your feet, backing off from your zombie maid. You can't face her, not like this.

throwing the disc at the lantern the metal bursts the glass and spreads the flames to the wall.

There is a small explosion, followed by liquid fire spilling onto the ground between you and the zombie. Wine bottles shatter from the sudden spike in temperature, the more voltaile dwarvern and reptillian brews adding to the fire.

The undead screeches at you, as you beat a slow retreat up the stairs. Cradling your arm, you can't help but feel that you're on borrowed time. Even with the disc clenched in one hand, the slowly revving saw can't get you out of every predicament.

You emerge in the hallway to find Ko, an axe still lodged between his shoulder blades. Another wound lies beneath right at the base of his spine.

Your tears fall freely, but you press on. You have to press on for those who are left.

Help... radio room.

There's fighting outside still.

Upstairs, screams. So many screams.

The edges of your vision blur from bloodloss.

Must do something...

> Radio Room

> Upstairs

> Yard

> Dining Room

> Write-In
>>
>>1164763
> Radio Room
Gotta listen to our favorite radio program before we die.
>>
>>1164763
>Radio Room
We are clearly useless, better call someone else to solve our problems.
>>
>>1164763
>> Radio Room
>>
>>1164763

> Radio Room
>>
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>>1164883
>>1164804
>>1164797
>>1164769

You stagger towards the stairs, making for the radio set Arthur installed underneath it; you lean on the wall that makes up the main stairs more with each step. The sound of your footfalls and the sound of your heart slowly doing it's job are all you hear.

You get your remaining hand on the door and feel a hand on your shoulder.

Arthur. He's home. He's home. Heshomeheshomehehome.

Tears come to your eyes and when you try to speak you feel glass against your lips. Warm thick liquid fills your mouth and runs down your throat as a strong grip tilts your head back.

You swallow the drink, your mind clearing of the fog that gripped it and your sight returning to normal.

"Thank Goodness you're alright Mother." Alexander says as he examines your stump. He reaches into a pounch and presses some kind of barbed vine to it; it itches like a devil's haircut but you know your son's alchemy and medicine skill is unparalelled.

"I think you saved my life Alex." You mutter, scratching behind his one wolfen ear while he works gauze aorund your stump.

"Gabriel is holding the yard on his own. He sent me to radio for help. I'm not sure who's upstairs, but Butler was stomping up there with a hundred knives embedded within him."He babbles as he works, his hands steady from battlefield experience.

"Kat and Kit." you realize, "where are Kat and Kit?"

"I didn't see them outside, were they not hiding in the basement?"

"Wassen was protecting them. She's gone." You say sadly, "Ko too. I had to set the wine cellar on fire."

"We don't have much time then Mother. Radio for help. I'll search upstairs. I'll move Zelam to the hidden study." He checks his gauzework once more.

"I love you Alexander, I'm so proud of everything you are." You admit through tears.

"I love you too Mother. Thank you, for everything." he says, tears in his eyes as he gives you a big grin. "St-" He begins before thinking better of it.

You enter the radio room, a small closet of wires and metal protrusions. It is quite possibly the greatest feat of technical prowess your husband has manufactured behind his unique golemcraft. The signal can reach the capital with luck; but it is all constructed by hand. No other soul had any input, not even his apprentices and not even his tinktress daughter, Hulla. But now you had to use it.

Wave Set - Tinton.

You turn the crank to wake the machine from slumber, never quite appreciating how much you needed your left hand until this point.

Sending Microphone - Active

You pick up the bell shaped object, point the wide opening to your mouth. "This is Murillo. Help! Help! We're under attack! Please! Someone! Susan! Marcus!" You beg into the microphone, the polished brass as cold as it is silent. You look to the recieving speakers, but nothing is coming. "Please. Please." You begin sobbing, "They're klling my children."
>>
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You hear a small almost imperceptible noise on the other end.

"Helllo? Hello! You can hear me? Send help! Get the guards or the garrison! Please.Please.Please, you need to save my children!" You practically scream.

"I'm sorry. Lady Deadhouse." A voice, smooth as silk and deeper than the pit in your stomach responds. It is female, though you can't help but imagine it is the voice of a older butler. "But there's nothing I or anyone can do to save your family."

Your hand shakes ad much as your voice as it clenches the microphone. "Wha- What are you saying?" You stammer in disbelief. "You have to help us! Please, my children!"

"Have been ordered killed." The woman interjects, "The paperwork is official and the orders are clear."

"N-No..." You counter.

"Yes. I'd advise spending your remaining time withy our loved ones Lady Deadhouse. The Vipers' Bite is deadly, but nothing is more cruel than a lonely death." You hear her take a drag from a cigarette, "My girls are quite efficient, so I doubt you have long." She notes as if she were ticking off an item from an intinary.

"Wh-Who ordered this! Who would have babes murdered?" You say in a state of shock, barely able to comprehend.

"The Senator orders and his servants obey." The voice responds.

You drop the microphone with the sound of dull metal. This... is a purge. The Republic has trned on your family. None of you are rebels, Gabriel and Alexander thought for him? Why would....

Slumping to your knees, you clutch the serrated disc to yourself and are overcame with emotion.

> ????

> ???????

> ??????

> Write-In an emotion.
>>
>>1167230

> ???????

Oh his so royaly fucked now, befor we didnt care what he did but now his getting a saw in his dickhole
>>
>>1167230
> ????
We lost [RAGE] when we died yeah? I can't think of anything else this would be.
>>
>>1167364

Remember you're flashbacking to Pre-Violet days right now. Laurelai hasn't ever been anything but a sweet girl who can sing and dance and raised a big family.

She hadn't taken a life until Wassenstein.
>>
>>1167364
>>1167286

Going to wait 20 more minutes and then roll between these 2 if nobody votes.
>>
>>1167230
> ????
>>
>>1167230

> ???????
>>
>>1167230
>????
breaking tie
>>
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>>1167399
>>1167364
>>1167286
>>1167404
>>1167406

FURY

You blood boils, every part of your mind is engulfed in a boiling sea of fury. Finding your feet is far easier than you would expect, the disc in your hand expands once, twice, thrice, beocming a giant whirling blade of death.

But it doesn't stop there, it attaches your arms; both the stump and the intact one. Long tendrils of thrumming metal extend from them.

You step out of the room and see a woman wielding a spear, with a thought your tendrils of bladed death streak towards her and entrap her. A bladed cocoon that rips and tears her flesh from her bones without any chance for resistance.

You see one of your children run to your side, one of the earless ones. Maybe Lucas.

But you weren't interested, you were an inferno, blazing out of control. You would burn, burn bright and furiously, you would consume all in your path.

> Yard

> Upstairs

> Dining Room

> Write-In
>>
>>1167417
> Yard
>>
>>1167417
>> Upstairs
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>1167430
>>1167422

Tibreak roll
>>
>>1167417

Yard
>>
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>>1167430
>>1167422

You stride up the stairs, every bit of fatigue in your body forgotten as you hunt. A scream nearby elicits an increase in pace and you stand in a grand hallway.

Gunfire sings out as you see two of you boys cut down while your Manservant Hans is emptying the rounds from a machine gun. But the lady at the other end of the hall is unfazed. She is a spitting image of your dearest Weiss, oldest of your girls.

The bullets seem to bend around her and embed in the portraits around the hallway. One of the rounds bends into the chandelier above and sends it crashing to the ground.

It stops in the air, it's careening tumble stopped by an unseen force and it drops to the ground behind her. The lanterns and candles all burst and flames rise behind the blue haired assasin.

She silently begins walking towards Hans.

> Tendrils of death

> Stand between her and Hans in challenge

> Say something to her

> Write-In
>>
>>1167623

Sorry dude, after the tiebreak roll.
>>
>>1167631
> Tendrils of death
>>
>>1167631
>> Tendrils of death
>>
>>1167631
> Tendrils of death

Although I get the feeling this may not end well.
>>
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>>1167670
>>1167645
>>1167637

1d20 please.
>>
Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>1167674
rip
>>
Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>1167674

Have we seen enough hentai to know where this is going?
>>
Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>1167674
>>
Apparently not.
>>
>>1167683
>>1167686
>>1167687

Your tendrils pounce forward and are halted by an invisible force. With a wide eyed look your tendrils are all bunched together, you are pulled off your feet and through the makeshift table barraicade.

Splintres stick in your face as you are lifted into the air with your tendrils tangled above you like some warped baby's mobile. The assasin looks at you without registering your existense. She tilts her head as if she's hearing someone speak to her, but there is no noise beyond the muted yard battle and the fire rapidly engulfing the hallway behind her.

You feel a slap across your face with no hand there, followed by an invisible punch in the sternum.

The room begins to spin as you ar whirled around by your tendrils like some child's toy - colliding with the cieling then the walls before, like a dart you are tossed back the way you came.

You bounce on the floor once, twice, landing in a heap where Hans stood before fleeing at your diversion.

You stand before the grand window, struggling to get to your feet after the pummeling. The strange girl starts her approach once more, the fire which had overtaken her submitting to that strange nullzone around her your tendrils and you were so easily dispatched by.

> Tendrils

> Say something

> Calm down and hope your disc does something

> Flee

> Write-In
>>
>>1167701
> More tendrils
Telekinesis is bullshit
>>
>>1167701
>> Tendrils every where
>>
>>1167701
>> Tendrils
>>
>>1167759
>>1167736
>>1167706

Give me a 1d20 again gentlemen.
>>
Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>1167769
>>
Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>1167769
>>
Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>1167769
>>
Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>1167769
>>
Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>1167769
>>
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>>1167870
>>1167813
>>1167809
>>1167800
>>1167779

You send you tendrils forth once more stopping just short of the affected area of her null zone. You yank up the floorboards as you run forward, using the debris for cover.

The wooden planks you tear up seem to be caught by invisible hand which you take as your queue to slide your tendrils under neath. Keeping them low to the floor they rise up and lash outat the last moment.

You hear a sharp intake of air but no other noise as the wooden planks shatter under great force, as if one of your golems tumbled upon it.

The girl looks at her hands and touches them to her face, looking at the blood in confusion. She seems uncomprehending of the wounds you have inflicted - she turns her attention to you impassively.

Tilting her head once again, you hear whispering and you wish your eyes were no longer working.

The girls blood coagulates in the air and a horrific monster appears in her shadow, a large spectral monster with spindly arms and ridiculously large hands delicately embraces her filling the "null zone"

Apparently your wounding of this soulless killer revealed what we're dealing with.

> Flee

> Attack with Tendrils

> Attack with Disc

> Write-In
>>
>>1168030
> Attack with Tendrils
Now we know what to aim for.
>>
>>1168030
>> Attack with Tendrils
>>
>>1168030
>> Attack with Tendrils
>>
>>1168030
This is scarier than the xeno outbreak in cabin. I thought senator was mind controlling then but what is this thing?
>>
>>1168068
>>1168053
>>1168034

1d20s friends.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>1168106
>>
Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>1168106
>>
Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>1168106
Right.
>>
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>>1168125
>>1168116
>>1168112

You begin to weave an intricate web with your tendrils, your long fingers keeping the creature bonded with the girl on the defensive.

The tendrils seem to have a life of their own as one embeds itself in the monster's eye. Only it seems like it has no bearing on the girl, she continues to stride forward, shielded by the creature's long spindly arms.

A knick on her shoulder is met with the same impassive gaze as you back up before her strange advance, the symbiotic abomination comes closer, forcing you to back up until your back is to the large glass window.

She seems unfazed, the creature seems unfazed even with a tendril embedded in it's eye socket. The smoky flesh seems to be choking the very air around it as it is framed by the licking and hungering flames.

> Give no ground

> Make for the stairs

> Out the Window

> Write-In
>>
>>1168140
If we were healthier, I'd say out the window for epic exit. Since we're kinda busted up, though.

>Make for the stairs.
>>
>>1168140
>Make for the stairs
Ok, if you say so. Remember the building is on fire though, we might get stranded upstairs and have to jump down.
>>
>>1168140

> Out the Window
And pull the girl outwith us to cusin the landing with trendals in here
>>
>>1168178
>>1168154
>>1168141

1d20 please children. This is easier than the other rolls but let's see what ya got.
>>
Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>1168210
>>
Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>1168210
Roll for ignoring the pain in our leg.

>>1168178
You mean the one we are running away from?
>>
Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>1168210
>>1168235

And yes
>>
>>1168222
>>1168235
>>1168291

Lest the next life we got shit done
>>
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>>1168291
>>1168235
>>1168222
>>1168299

Not wasting anymore time you leap to the side, moving past the creature and the girl as they both sluggishly look at your passing with as much interest as a lazy housecat.

You take the stairs four at a time and immediately duck back down as a bullet takes a solid eight inches of wooden bannister clean off the support strut.

"Howdy. Weiss ain't takin ya fancy huh?" A female voice calls from the hallway, "Hope ya don't mind, but I'm not one fer face tah face."

You peek up and see nothing except a thin trail of smoke at the far end of the corner.

> Move up

> Stay Put

> Go back down to fight the other girl

> Write-In
>>
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Calling it for the night.

I am exhausted.
>>
WITH EVERY FADED PAGE
A CONTRACT IS SEALED
BUT THE MAGICAL CANNOT REST
UNTIL EVERY WORLD IS HEALED
>>
>>1168331

Night.

Hmm just make new doors though the wooden walls
>>
>>1168329
>Write-In
Disk based suppressing fire and move up into nonconsentacle range.
>>
>>1168386
>>1168338

Vote between

> [FURY] Break through walls

> Distract with Disc to get close
>>
>>1169852
> [FURY] Break through walls
very angry purps running at incredibly hihg speeds
>>
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>>1169854
>>1168386
>>1168338

"This power makes me stronger right?" You mutter convincing yourself, "So surely I should be able to..." You trail off sprinting up the stairs, evading a chunk of hot lead.

You don't slow your pace, or even turn into the main body of the portrait hall like the gunwoman expects. Instead you ram into the wooden wall at full tilt, your tendrils wrapping around your arm and stump protectively as you crash through.

Wood sprays all around Jordan's bedroom. His bookshelf teetering and falling in front of you like a darkwood bridge as you charge throughthe wall ahead into Millie's room. Your mind barely processes the slit throat and bloodstained silks in it's haze of narrow minded, vengeful fury.

One more wall and you see a green haired girl wielding two massive guns. Speed propels you into the air and past her, she looks shocked at your sudden appearance form the wall - pivoting as you sail through the air.

Flipping around so your feet collide with the wall, your whole gravity re-arranges in the first combat use of your enigma.

You push off and lunge into the air at the girl like a human dart. It feels as if everything moves at a crawl as she frantically tries to bring her weapons to bear against the furious Mother of Aerial Death.

> Tendrils 1d20

> Disc 1d20

> Fist 1d20

> Write-In I guess (Prob 1d20?)
>>
Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>1169898

We cast
>Fist
>>
Eyooooo ahm on da radiooo
>>
>>1169921

You dropped your dice buddy.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d20)

Attempt 2 of infinity
>>
>>1169926

Were you backing, Fist, Disc, Or Tendrils?
>>
Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>1169898
> Fist 1d20
Ora ora ora etc etc
>>
Ima fist whatever it is
>>
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>>1169938
>>1169936
>>1169926
>>1169921
>>1169900

You pounce at her and manage to hit a solid one two punch with your right, making use of the revving blades coating your arm to slice up the gunwoman's pretty face.

You scream and growl incoherently as she escapes your reach and stows her weapons with a smirk. "Well shit lady, that stung." She drawls.

You charge again, angling for a killer bladed uppercut. But she slips inside your guard and delivers two quick jabs of her own.

your eyes tell you the blows should have been light, yet each one has the force of a hammer blow, sending you stumblinb then rolling back.

Fighting to your knees amidst the eyes of your husband's ancestors, you regain focus and block her next strike despite your arm and leg threatning to relent and buckle before her power.

"Been good boxin' with ya ma'am but time to die I reckon." your foe says kindly, pulling back her knee and striking towards your midsection. You manage to bring your remaining arm to block, but her face reveals she was counting on that, first a lightning quick hook slams across your cheek - dazing and confusing you.

Then follows a straight so hard you fly down the corridor, past the staircase, through the wall and out into the open expanse above the yard.

Gravity begins to lay claim on you for a heartbeat before time itself seems to stop. The stars go out and across the entirety of the sky, the face from your nightmares appears. His eyes pink moons in the blackest void that is his skin. You see the wrinkles and cracks of his otherworldly hide as sure as you had seen the full moon before his appearance.

"Laurelai... give me your magic and I will spare you from dying to this fall." The Dealer croaks as you stare at the still flames as they pause in the consumption of your house. "Tick. Tock. Tick Tock." He intones.

> Deal [No Magic - Get 2 more emotions]

> No Deal [Die]
>>
Have to admit, I'm a bit paralyzed. On the one hand, don't want to die. On the other, fuck the Dealer.
>>
>>1169958
> No Deal [Die]
Just accept the sweet embrace of death.
>>
>>1169958

> Deal [No Magic - Get 2 more emotions]

>>1170109
>>1170113

Im going with loseing magic since prubs vant do it anyways ( thanks dice) and was thinking this would be a good lore reasion we sucj at magic.

Star was this what you planed?
>>
>>1170109

We are going to die anyways just how soon?
>>
>>1170262
>>1170113
>>1170109

One of several options that could have No Magic Purps.

1 for deal one for no deal.

I'm still at the D&D table.
>>
>>1169958
Hm. Alright, I'll say deal, I guess. Laurelai might be the type to sacrifice whatever it took to save her family.
>>
>>1169958
> deal
There is still a couple of family members left that we might be able to save. If we get time for exposition though I wanna ask why he is saving us and not our lovely children, also what magic?
>>
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>>1170281
>>1170278
>>1170263
>>1170262
>>1170113
>>1170109

Forgive the wrong trip there.

"Just help me." You plead.

"Gladly." It replies.

Time lurches back into motion, throwing you downwards with a jolt. You can feel your teeth rattling as you plummet to the ground.

Terror fills your soul as you witness your own death running to meet you. Your death being the battle scarred yard that you had spent many a summer afternoon maintaining.

Your eldest; Gabriel holds both of his swords as he dances between the blasts of magic, gunfire and attacks. HIs blue hair a cyan streak as he shows why he was so valued in the Republican Army.

Splitting into five black bulbs of goop you seperate and become one with the breeze. Arcing outwards and then together to reform on the ground on one knee besides your son.

"Mother. I did not expect you to drop in." Gabriel drily remarks. You find your feet, standing shoulder to shoulder with your boy, a moment of pride and joy tainted by the circumstances.

Three enemies stand before you, The Necromancer - The Knife Thrower and a pale girl with hair darker than night flowing down to her heels.

"These girls can't touch me but I can't deal with them alone." Gabriel says, sounding mildly amused. "How's Marie?" He asks.

"She's gone." You say quietly, "Knife thrower did it."

Gabriel is never one to wear his emotions on his sleeve, for thirty years he has held an aloof air towards everyone except Marie, Alexander and his father. "She's dead then." He simply states, his hand shaking for a second and steel in his voice. "I know you hate fighting Mother, but blood begets blood."

"For once Son." Blinking back tears, you hold the disc saw at the ready before your stomach, ready to fight to the last. "We agree on something."

"Let's not be hasty - we can talk about this." The assasin you haven't seen before says.

> It can't hurt to let them speak

> Disc to the face

> FURY

> ?????????????

> Write-In
>>
>>1170827
> ?????????????
God damn it Star.
>>
>>1170827
>> ?????????????
WHAT IN THE BOOOX!?
>>
>>1170842

That's a reaction I wanted for this whole set piece.

>>1170109
This too.

>>1167286
But mostly this.
>>
>>1170827
>?????????????
That's a long one. I hope it isn't a talking option though because they didn't give our family that option.
>>
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>>1170868
>>1170852
>>1170842

[DETERMINATION]

The saw slams into the ground with a smack, a pole ha ssprung out of nowhere - turning the sawdisc into a giant polearm capable of rending the head from a horse like it were butter. It's impact, so easy and effortless cannot help leaving a miniscule crater in the wet ground. "Why should we talk. We were not allowed to speak."

"Marie cries out for revenge." Gabriel continues

"Your trangressions will be paid for, in blood. To the best of our ability." You add,

"So long as one of the Lupus Clan may stand, we shall seek our debt." He says brushing hair out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

"We won't take one step back no matter how you push."

"Here we fight and die. Mother and Son."

"Even when we have hostages?" The assasin counters stopping you in your tracks just as you were set to charge.

Kit, Kat, Bobby, Art, Laura, Lisa.

Six of your youngest on their knees before the gate facing away from safety and have been forced to watch Gabriel fight and their home burn in the night. All of them cry heavily as they are forced to kneel and beg with guns pointed at the back of their skulls.

> [DETERMINATION] Charge

> [FURY] Kill the captors

> [TERROR] ... Don't. We'll surrender

> Write-In
>>
>>1171017
>[FURY] Kill the captors
Tentacle rush!
Thre is no point in surrendering because they are going to kill us all anyway.
>>
>>1171017
>> [FURY] Kill the captors
move some tentacles through the ground to strike them from an unexpected direction
>>
>>1171017


> [DETERMINATION] Charge

Youl just kill them after
Yell out to the kids, bite the ankles and run
>>
>>1171048
>>1171032

Mybe try to do a prototype tentacles flying out of every hitting all of them at once?
>>
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>>1171122
>>1171113
>>1171048
>>1171032

1d20 for tendrils.
>>
>>1171048
Yeah I'll second hidden tentacles crouching starborn too, if we can do that.

>>1171113
And the warning the kits so they can dodge when the fighting starts.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>1171144
>>
Rolled 4 (1d20)

>>1171144
>>
Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>1171144
Saved!
>>
>>1171168
>>1171157
>>1171154

Okay taking a few seconds to try and work out how this is going.
>>
Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>1171144
>>
>>1171177
>>1171168
>>1171157
>>1171154

God damm all kids and us are died,
Y you do this dice
>>
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>>1171183
>>1171177
>>1171168
>>1171157
>>1171154
>>1171145

"Run children!" You scream as you send your tendrils low to the ground and up at the captors of your babies. Gabriel has engaged with the black haired girl and the knife tossing bitch in a flurry of movement so beyond your level you can't even comprehend.

Six Bangs.

Your heart Stops.

Kit. Kat. Bobby. Art. Laura. Lisa.

All gone.

You were too slow.

Too weak.

Pathetic.

You hear the necromancer's odd laugh, "Hohohoho you thought you could save them?" She says mockingly as your son beats back her comrades, "Foolish for a woman your age."

The zombie that was approaching you stops and returns to it's mistress. Her magic reaches out across the yard as your mind goes totally blank.

> ????

> MORZHEN

> DEALER

> Write-In
>>
>>1171250
>> ????
oops?
>>
>>1171250
>> MORZHEN
>>
>>1171250
>????
What the fuck did you say about my age?!

Who is Morzhen?
>>
>>1171250
>> MORZHEN
>>
>>1171250
>> ????
>>
>>1171250
>> ????
>>
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>>1171310
>>1171298
>>1171280
>>1171273
>>1171257
>>1171336

Everything is Red

The polesaw in your hand merges into your arm and seperates into plate metal, each plate revving and menacing with spikes of deadly steel.

Soon you are encased in it.

All is Red

Red is All


Your left stump is encased and then expanded past, you are ambidextrous once more, though you have no capacity for relief or joy. There is only red

A helmet comes up over your face, you have becom the saw. The visor slams into place and lights crimson.

EVERYTHING IS RED

You charge in and a zombie is sent to intercept you, tackling it to the ground you roll foward - tossing it into the air with ease.

One hand catches it, ramming your hand into rotten and undead guts; your other hand punches the zombie's chest and it explodes into gore.

Your eyes lock with the necromancer who is taken aback at your barbaric assault.

Red

> RED RED RED RED RED

> DIEEEEEEEE

> SUFFER LIKE THEY DID

> NO WRITE-INS ONLY RAGE
>>
>>1171367
>> DIEEEEEEEE
DIE DIE
>>
>>1171367

> SUFFER LIKE THEY DID

Unleash the animals thats inside

Ears, fingers, get bitten off, then jam fingers in eyes, show her own heart to her as you eat it
>>
>>1171367
> SUFFER LIKE THEY DID
>>
>>1171367
>RED RED RED RED RED
>>
>>1171436
>>1171433
>>1171404
>>1171390

Roll 1d20 for SUFFERING.RAGE
>>
Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>1171491
>>
Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>1171491
Is this DC20?
>>
>>1171497

We're rolling for how fucked necro bitch is. Right now... she gets a wound.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>1171491
>>
Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>1171491

We are the ones suffering
We should just die now
>>
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>>1171545
>>1171497
>>1171496

Like a black beast of legend you charge forward ignoring limbs, craters and enemies alike in your assault. The woman's lackeys through themselves at you - one's head i punches clean off; two are torn apart by the edges of your armour as you bodily collide.

With frenzied clawing you tear the last apart but as you rise to destroy the murderer who took your family....

Kat blinks up at you. Her arms are spread to be held, just like she did whenever she had scraped her knee.

The black armour begins to fall from you.

Kit approaches you tugging at your leg for attention, her smile is wide and welcoming as she does.

Your gaze sweeps over your children as they welcome you. Bringing them to you they snuggle in, you feel your heart trembling and your skin tearing around them.

You carry them back to the house as best you can with one arm. Gabriel calls from somewhere behind you confusion in his tone before he cries out.

Art nibbles at your breast and suckles blood, as if he were even younger than Zelam. You try to brush his hair back and coo him, but your hand is currently occupying Kit and Lisa.

The girls are ever so rough with you, soon you can feel distant pain as crunching of chicken bones fills your ears. It is hard, but you make it to the well - settling back and letting your babies play on you.

Your ears sotp working as Bobby and Laura lean to tell you secrets. The messy little brats covered in sauce form their meals; at least they're enjoying. You did good, you're a good mother and housewife.

Kat's eyes roam over your body as her siblings' handiwork is taking place, the little laying an ear to your womb - maybe you're prgenant again! Arthur will be thrilled, maybe the children will be able to help you break the news.

That'd be wonderful.

You look down and see Kat and Bobby pulling large strings of... something loose and your vision is blurry.

Looing at this sight, of your children happy playing and full is great at lulling you to sleep.

But they leave you, back off with red hands, mouths, faces and outfits. Leaving you alone, "M-My-b-bes" You gurgle, unable to speak past the blood in your throat.

"I took them savage." The necromantress growls, nursing some scratches. "they're happier now."

"N-gi-back" You cry red tears as a high heeled boot kicks out - piercing your left eye neatly and propelling you through the bricks of the well and down into the reservoir contained underneath.

You die, alone, half eaten by the children you devoted your life to, forgotten and wiped from history like the rest of your clan.

3 days later

You awaken. Trapped under rubble with nothing save for a saw. Your family are gone. You take the saw to your throat after struggling for hours.

The Next day

You scream until your throat gives out. Trapped. Denied Rest. Trapped. Pathetic. You hack at the rubble when you can't scream.

You Starve again and again.
>>
>>1171620

Noo the 20 was too late.
Well this explains way the next girl was batshit kill carzy
>>
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>>1171620

3 months later

You don't know who you are. You have a saw. You are in a tunnel. You dig. You dig and dig and dig.

Except when you find a bug. Then you kill.

Killing brings you life.

Life lets you dig.

The dark, the digging, the killing.

The voice.

The motivator.

He reminds you how to speak.

He tells you to keep going.

You starved again today.

1 year later

No dig.

Big thing.

Loud. Brown. Fluffy.

Killed me.

Killed it.

Ate it.

Voice say make clothes.

Made clothes.

Hunt.

Kill.

2 years later

The people have found me once again, avoiding them has only worked for so long. The bandits, far too bold. They noticed the lack of scum preying on the caravans. The gold man is relentless, big hammer - hurts. Can't stop need to keep moving.

"Now why is a Starborn living in the woods and running from the law." He asks form in front of you as he blocks your attack easily.

"Leave me. Don't want talk."

"Well don't talk to me. Fight me." He offers, making a taunting gesture and smiling.
>>
>>1171620
I worry about you star.
>happy family reunion episode with awoos!
>die miserably having visions of your children playfully slaughtering you
I hope I don't have nightmares.
>>
>>1171800

He just finshed cabin quest i think.
Thats dark
There naver a happy ending
Say this quest is like almost dark souls
>>
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>>1171800

Sorry man, had to punish that 1.

I was fully prepped for going down swinging.

But the dice decided, Laurelai just didn't have that rage in her needed to maintain the rage form.

Some interesting way this flashback could have gone - Morzhen is the name of the gate golems. The badass fuckers you saw.

That would have escalated the conflict, but you could have taken some down with you before their trump arrived.

In terms of where this leaves Modern Purps - I have mentioned The Vipers before in canon, they're the knives in the dark. If inquisitors are the secret police; then Vipers are 40k Inquisition.

In terms of the Lupus Clan?

Gone from history. Like the names of all the nobles The Senator killed and The Senator's true name.

>>1171822
I supposed you could look at this as dark souls esque.
I'm not done with Cabin, just roatting so I don't burn out on it. That ritual just wont end.

I'm hoping I hit the hopless frantic and pnaicked tone of that flashback. Please give me as much feedback as possible here, always want to improve. Also, so many fucking typos this thread.

My bad.


39: Ancestry.Awoo END
>>
>>1171843

The stage.

A powerful Thing.

Music is your armour.

Dance your banner.

Singing your sword.

Now what if I told you that the magic of the theatre, was real.
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>>1171843
Thanks for running. I think the feeling of hopelessness and really not being in control came through well. I was a bit confused with who was doing what and what our possible options where. Like who was in the house at the time, how far away town was. But I was hung over during most of it so that might explain that.
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>>1171843

Ok damm we forgot about them, but lest there working for the prubs now.
Sorta good couse that can work with in lore way they are still there since i dont think anyone can remake them.

Its a bit dark souls in that when you get fucked your fucked, and then you come back but you lose things until you work your way to get them back
And in the lore if you doe and lose too many souls humanity you go carzy and kill all the things

I liked this i mean i know we wore going to die but was at lest hopeing taking some woth us but since we arnt a fighter and we did do a few cool things, keeping with what we found as purbs i fill this fits nicely.
Though can we finsh story time and soo thr looks on everyones faces?
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You've made me sad
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I just could not believe the level of dice failure.
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>>1171999

The dice kewn
Also when ever we try to do magic
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I didn't even have to type "easy" for that 1
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>>1172029

Sadly my 20 was just too late
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>>1171915
I'm not sorry. This flashback would never have a happy ending.
>>1171999
Welcome to Starborn.
>>1172014
Whenever you try to do anything which is not DBZ esque
>>1172040
Not gonna lie, that made me pretty mad too.




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