Homebrew system thread II, part 2

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Presumably no-one's daft enough to actually cross into the circle, then- the locals are certainly being kept out of tampering distance from it.

What happens - most of the people go 'oooh', but you've been around enough horrendous explosions of late to be a little more relaxed about it all. So evidently has Lisanna, because her definition of 'safety distance' is, charitably, minimal. She does say 'Look away, everyone'- about two seconds before she completes the final sign.

The circle implodes, and everyone starts screaming. It's bright- bright enough to leave you blinded for several minutes after looking directly at it, bright enough to make you turn away if you value your eyeballs- there's the first enormous crack and crash of thunder, and it would not be a good idea to fall over at this point, becuase that's when the round starts shaking and the column of fire roars out of the hole.

Objectively, compared to the tower letting go, it's actually not as big an explosion, but the looney responsible for that one had the sense to get you about ten times further away and behind something solid. Yes, bush man is sensible and safety conscious by comparison.

When it all starts subsiding again, she turns to Larric and says 'It would have been easier if you were able to do that in place- I think I have the message you want to send, that de Berrey has acted irresponsibly, abominably, has been terrorising and oppressing the locals and is now on his way to Qulan, yes?'

With some kind of affirmative- probably- she sets about it. Larric mostly won't recognise the abilities she's using- not particularly out of his field, but definitely out of his cast of mind; mostly very 'magical' magic, Sense and Divination and Insight and a little Entity even.


'Should work. Oh.' Looking up. That- whatever it is- has been reported in half a dozen places, an unfamiliar kind of sky demon- know anything about it?'

Actually, you do. It's triangular, ish, heavily kitbashed together, metal in various grades and stages of dilapidation and oxidisation, and the pilot is proibably wondering what the zog that explosion was. Any suggestions?

[Panzersharkcat]

"That's the gist of it, yes."

[Simon_Jester]

When it all starts subsiding again, she turns to Larric and says 'It would have been easier if you were able to do that in place- I think I have the message you want to send, that de Berrey has acted irresponsibly, abominably, has been terrorising and oppressing the locals and is now on his way to Qulan, yes?'

"That's the gist of it, yes."

"Aye. And... if I could have done that in place, I'd be a rather different man."

'Should work. Oh.' Looking up. That- whatever it is- has been reported in half a dozen places, an unfamiliar kind of sky demon- know anything about it?'

Actually, you do. It's triangular, ish, heavily kitbashed together, metal in various grades and stages of dilapidation and oxidisation, and the pilot is proibably wondering what the zog that explosion was. Any suggestions?

Larric waves at the pilot and smiles broadly. "A very strange artisan. We've met- wait." He stops and thinks.

[Did we actually talk to Hara during events at the First Age fortress?]

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Did bump into her briefly, yes; didn't say anything at the time, though- she was down in there being medical and getting people in fit state for you to carry up the spiral. I think that was a missed connection at the time, although it's possible the characters are only putting two and two together now.

She came looking for her brother, who's playing in the sky for the Authrani army- and yes, thinking about the two of them there is a family resemblance. Hm.

[Simon_Jester]

OOC:

Yes, but Larric might not even remember the name, or make the connection- "Strongarm" is certainly a reasonable name for an orc, might be their equivalent of, hah, "Smith."

[rolls general intelligence check: 19]

Nope.

IC

"-no, never mind, sorry, thought I'd remembered something. Anyhow, met him on the road to Qulan from the south, he is an artisan of sorts, builds flying machines. Sort of... kind of part of the Striking Phoenix-" a name which makes Larric shiver a bit, and most of the locals probably more- "but I think they aren't sure where he is for some reason. Not dangerous if you don't go pick a fight with him."

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

'I'm not thinking about picking a fight with him, I'm wondering about getting a lift from him. Would you describe him as remotely reasonable? Apart from the obvious fact that he's a dangerous mainiac, of course?'

[Simon_Jester]

"Actually yes, he's a very reasonable orc. Helped us deal with that rogue elf-ranger down by Caer Edric. If you speak, he just might listen- if we speak too, a shade more likely."

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

The thing- showing some changes already from the last time- circles slowly and at relatively low altitude; waving in its' general direction, it seems to be interested.
Twenty- five armed men are a bit of a deterrent, though. Not that it takes much to get them to go away- they're looking at the thing and in a state fo advanced panic, fight or flight. It's one of them. Attack for revenge, flee in terror? Willing to do either- or both.

If Alfred is willing and able to lead them out of the way- out of bowshot, at least- and assuming that he is, the following occurs. The thing, more rounded (and dented) than last time, manages to go from being in the sky to being on the ground with a combination of aerodynamics, magic and landing skids. Must be great fun on snow.

An orc emerges, looks around, takes his flying hat off- says to Lisanna, 'That looked quite interesting from the air, could you do another one in slow motion so i can take notes this time?' adds 'Oh, hallo.' to Larric.

[Simon_Jester]

"Hi there. We've got a lie to outrun, could we ask you a favor?"

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

'Hm.' He thinks about it for a second, then has an idea. From the evil grin that accompanies it, it involves something horrendously dangerous. 'Wouldn't exactly call this thing safe, you know,' he says in a vague attempt to appease his conscience, 'and I'd lose a popularity contest with the pox, around here. There is a way it could be done, if you're willing to take a risk- in the interests of aviation pioneering, of course.'

[Simon_Jester]

Larric makes a leap of intuition into the unknown-and-pessimistic. "Does this plan mean jumping out of a moving sky chariot?"

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

'Considering that people where were decent enough to run away when they see a madman in an- well, the important ingredient of a chariot is the animals pulling it really and you have to get very mythic at that point; I've tried swan propulsion, looks wonderful but they just haven't got the- anyway, I'm not sure it could be called a chariot really. I've been calling it an avantura.

So no, it doesn't involve jumping out of a sky chariot. It involves jumping out of an avantura. Trust me, there's a difference. Most of the people here had the sense to move away when I came in to land, wise precaution, wish I could. What happens when I land in a human town, and there are enough of them to support each other, and they run towards? Probably with pitchforks, spades, and murder in mind, baying for vengeance?

My appetite for blood is overfull of late, but I would defend myself, think about the magic that went into this and you can guess how. I'd probably still lose, though, and I don't think anyone would go away happy. Think of the logic of trying to take you to a place I cant go.

I have this idea about how to escape from a plummetting avantura, involving riding a small balloon down- big enough to slow you but not to carry you away. Kind of hard to try it out myself, it did work on the test goblins. Well, the ones that had the presence of mind not to freeze up or go wibble anyway. What'd you say?'

[Panzersharkcat]

"I say it sounds crazy enough to work."

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

'Tell me that after it actually works- how many people are you thinking of here? I can fit perhaps four unless I, hm.'

[Fiji_Fury]

OOC: So... to re-cap here, we have a charging Ogre and an amnesiac murder-minded priest (not usually, but deBerrey's forcing an exception) hurtling toward 15-1 odds on foot, and a Knight and Wizard are preparing to paratroop into a castle unannounced. We are coming close to official mayors of crazy town. Love it.

[Simon_Jester]

Larric's response to Njal? He is very intuitive about physical systems, and therefore deeply, deeply aware of just how many ways there are for this to be a very bad plan.

"Alfred? Before we go on board with this-" he looks at Njal- " ah, meaning no disrespect, but I'd like to take a look at that balloon first."

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

'Curses, foiled by common sense.' he mutters in Orcish, adding in Kuquani 'I'd like to persuade you that there isn't time, but you do have a point.' reaching into the avantura and handing Larric something that looks like a bedroll with straps.

'This is one folded up. There's a trick to it, and that's how to get it to start to unfold so it catches the air and billows open- obviously you don't just leave the thing lying around, it'd catch and tangle on everything, it'd be like carrying a bed around with you. Never fit inside properly and probably be shredded when you needed it.

You basically wear it as a pack, and when one of the prayer wheels falls off or has a small rukh try to fit down the inlet, you jump out of the craft and release these clasps that the cord here is tied to. Pull on the cord. Eight times out of ten, when something went wrong, it was because the test goblin forgot to pull the cord. The other two times it was the same dozy goblins who folded them in the first place.

I used to use test anvils; not ideal because they fell all right, but it's hard to tell how hard they landed, whether it would have been endurable or not- they couldn't exactly report on conditions encountered, could they? Gobbos are marginally more sentient.

Their packing improved a lot once they realised they'd be depending on their own work, too.'

Lisanna says 'Is that not cruelty to goblins?'

'I can imagine few more futile, thankless causes than defending goblin rights, they have all the barbarian vices and none of the virtues.' Njal says. 'I'll encourage a dozen to run away in your direction if you like, you can see how you get on with them. In the meantime, are you coming along on this?'

'Hm.' She says, and looks at Larric.

[Simon_Jester]

Larric listens to the orc's whole spiel, sifts it past his intuition and finds that it... barely passes checksum. Then he fires off at the end to Njal: "Maybe- was this one folded by a goblin?" gesturing to the... backpack.

He realizes Lisanna is giving him a Look. Turns, looking a bit surprised. "Ah, yes? I mean, it makes sense, I don't think it's really mad as such, it beats trying to flap your arms. Landing where you want sounds tricky, you can't reason with..." something dawns on his face "Come to think of it, maybe you could. Still... did you have in mind anything about the idea of a magic message, or was it about the flying-jumping-off thing?"

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

'The message is sent, as much as such things can be; but it is the disadvantage of these things- matter of mood, and luck, whether it is heard and recieved as it was meant, garbled into something completely unhelpful or written off as a bad reaction to an over- heavy lunch. I would like to see this thing in motion, though- if goblins weren't involved.'

Njal says 'Three of you I can cope with, all what, twenty? I doubt it. Next model, maybe... no, these weren't folded by goblins. Come on, then.'

[Simon_Jester]

"All right, then. Should work- ah, we're going to have to leave the heavy things behind, aren't we..." looking pointedly at Sir Alfred's armor, then tapping his own pack.

Parachuting in full armor might be possible, mind.

[Sir Alfred has courage bordering on stupidity as far as Larric's concerned; Larric is willing to try it because he's counting on being able to steer the thing a bit with a magically conjured wind, or artificially slow his descent if that turns out to be a problem. He assumes Njal feels the same way, but may be mistaken.]

[Eleventh Century Remnant]

Njal himself is no lightweight- average orcish size and strength is well above human, Alfred would make an only a shade above average orc; Njal probably weighs about as much without his armour as Alfred does in his, and as a forgemaster and shipwright, has strength to give most people. If they're sized to him- and he does comment that 'If the worst happens and I have to take to the open sky over somewhere that doesn't appreciate progress, I want to be able to do it with more than a pair of skivvies and a pocket knife'- not an issue.

The problem isn't weight, it's physical space; the rune-turbines are bulky objects, they take up a lot of room and the rest of the thing is essentially a flying workshop, the space behind the pilot cluttered and crowded with all sorts of odd bits and pieces including a portable forge, altar and anvil. Couldn't fit many people in anyway, and comfort is not to be had- he probably has more sense than to do anything wild. There is a hole in the roof at the back, for an observer, archer or some such; basically be sitting on the housing for the engines. There is a hatch fior it if nobody wants to stick their head out.

Alfred, Larric, and Lisanna all clamber in, and hold on to something. It turns out that Njal's pilot pod consists of a hammock, slung at an angle; in front of him is a faintly glittering ceramic thing that looks as if someone hit a lump of clay with a large mallet, froze it in time in the very instant of splashing to bits, and fired it in that state. Lisanna insists on looking over his shoulder. She's fascinated by this.

'Everybody, shout 'up' on the count of three. Yes, this actually helps.' He says, and starts playing with the control ceramic. A glow starts to form in the middle of it. 'Ah, Sir Alfred, could you tell your people to get out of the way? Standing to the sides is all right, standing behind is bad, standing right in front is really bad.' he mutters to himself in Orcish, I'm going to have to fit the next one with steel teeth at this rate.

Leaving the ground is a little on the bumpy side- the thing works better with airflow, but it heaves it's way into the air with only a few screams and a small grinding noise. Once up, it is indeed like being at sea but much worse. 'If you feel your stomach starting to go, look out, That helps.' A sufficiently powerful air mage probably could levitate on a column of air, but it wouldn't feel like this. The thing is buoyant but deeply unsteady, to begin with- lurches and rolls about the sky, and if anyone does lose lunch, it would be now.

As the turbines behind and in their shell start to draw useful loads of air in and through, building from a low rumble to a roar, the ride eases out, but the wind howls past- and anyone who is looking out can see that you're doing four, five times the speed of a galloping horse. It is clearly not built with luxury in mind, the wind is freezing and deafeningly loud, but this will be faster than anyone has ever moved before.

'You see why I need a glassblower?' Njal yells to Larric. 'I don't know how fast this thing can actually go. The practical limit at the moment is basically my face- if you feel the air going past, through the impellers, it's almost lazy. Nowhere near the peak of what it can do.'

Anything else being said or done or speculated on along the way, before you get to Qulan?

[Panzersharkcat]

Nothing else beside ordering the people around to get out of the way. Well, OK, he's tempted to do this but he's not quite that recklessly brave.

[Simon_Jester]

Njal himself is no lightweight- average orcish size and strength is well above human, Alfred would make an only a shade above average orc; Njal probably weighs about as much without his armour as Alfred does in his, and as a forgemaster and shipwright, has strength to give most people. If they're sized to him- and he does comment that 'If the worst happens and I have to take to the open sky over somewhere that doesn't appreciate progress, I want to be able to do it with more than a pair of skivvies and a pocket knife'- not an issue.

The problem isn't weight, it's physical space; the rune-turbines are bulky objects, they take up a lot of room and the rest of the thing is essentially a flying workshop, the space behind the pilot cluttered and crowded with all sorts of odd bits and pieces including a portable forge, altar and anvil. Couldn't fit many people in anyway, and comfort is not to be had- he probably has more sense than to do anything wild. There is a hole in the roof at the back, for an observer, archer or some such; basically be sitting on the housing for the engines. There is a hatch fior it if nobody wants to stick their head out.

Alfred, Larric, and Lisanna all clamber in, and hold on to something. It turns out that Njal's pilot pod consists of a hammock, slung at an angle; in front of him is a faintly glittering ceramic thing that looks as if someone hit a lump of clay with a large mallet, froze it in time in the very instant of splashing to bits, and fired it in that state. Lisanna insists on looking over his shoulder. She's fascinated by this.

'Everybody, shout 'up' on the count of three. Yes, this actually helps.'

Larric accompanies "up" with a surge of will, actually trying to help meaningfully or at least get close enough to the act of raising the craft that he learns a bit more about it.

Leaving the ground is a little on the bumpy side- the thing works better with airflow, but it heaves it's way into the air with only a few screams and a small grinding noise. Once up, it is indeed like being at sea but much worse. 'If you feel your stomach starting to go, look out, That helps.'

Larric does not- quite lose it- and takes advantage of the idea of looking out the window. He's half-rapt, this is brilliant and he's trying to think of ways to help.

'You see why I need a glassblower?' Njal yells to Larric. 'I don't know how fast this thing can actually go. The practical limit at the moment is basically my face- if you feel the air going past, through the impellers, it's almost lazy. Nowhere near the peak of what it can do.'

Larric shouts back: "I'll see what I can find!" Maybe some games with lampblack, there's a lot of unexplored possibilities there...

Anything else being said or done or speculated on along the way, before you get to Qulan?

Larric is so busy just taking it all in that he doesn't worry much about anything else.

[Kaelan]

OCC - attempting this for Map 1

[Kaelan]

Map 2