For the rest of the winter, you are consumed by the thought of having your own pack of wolves. There's so many advantages, not least of which being their capacity for hunting. Wolves can track their prey for miles, keep watch while you sleep, even provide warmth and companionship, if not an extra set of hands. In a pinch, they might even be able to pull a travois for you.
Of course, there are risks too... They might never see a human as their alpha, or if they do, they might attack others. You feel sick to even think about what might happen if a wolf took a dislike... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
The hiss of your door opening up alerts you. “Hey, Rhys.” You turn around in your chair, looking back to see Misri in the doorway. As dirty as ever, wearing only a tanktop and the jumpsuit pants. “Breakfast time. Uncle Kuvasz is making some weird tingle casserole or whatever for breakfast, he says it’s good,” she says, trying to coax you out of your room.
Truth be told, in the past several days you’ve been in hyperspace, you’ve rarely left your quarters... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
He nods, wiping his hands on a rag then running his hand through his grey hair. “Certainly. Cooking is an important skill that all Mandalorian children learn when they’re being raised by their mothers, that and hunting as well. Hunting is something do with your father, but cooking is the matriarchal thing.” He steps over to the table and sits down, then notices Misri tearing up as she chews on the casserole. “For goodness sake, Misri. You don’t need to eat it if you don’t like it.”
She spits it out onto the plate. “It’s so hot!” she whines. “Why do you make these things so spicy?”
He blinks. “Oh?” He looks down at the casserole platter in the center of the table. “My wife always told me mine were unbearably mild.”
“This is mild!?” she squeaks.
“It actually kind of is,” you say. “But it’s got a bit of kick to it, initially at least.” Misri grumbles, drinking her blue milk to sooth her tongue.
Vikker grunts. “And you eat Tiingilar everywhere?” he asks. “This is considered a breakfast food?”
“It’s considered an everything food, very simple to make. The recipe especially is designed for the possibility that you don’t have an oven but do have a flamethrower,” says Kuvasz. Kuvasz tilts his head, looking to you as you eat carefully and quietly. “So, Rhys. Since you’re finally eating in the galley with the rest of us, I assume you’re feeling much better now, correct?”
> “I won’t feel better until I get Misri’s pudding.” > “Much better.” > “Not really.” > Other
As promised yesterday, I will host a small Q&A session, hopefully I will be able to clarify some points to you. If you're new to the quest just on board, we'll fill you in.
>Where can I read what already happened? http://pastebin.com/pnhkdKeQ This latest version of the pastebin has been optimized: grammar and spelling mistakes have been fixed, sentences were made more understandable, and all in all those mistakes that happen when you're narrating an interactive story have been fixed.
>When... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>44094576 >How do we win? You still have his arm, use it wisely. I can't say more without making spoilers. And yes, you might actually end up losing the war. There were a couple of bad endings you guys dodged, but plot armor will only get you so far. >Who was he Hisao Nakai. AKA the guy who died before your arrival.
Your people have always been a simple folk. But you are smarter and more cunning than your brothers and sisters. Once your father died you claimed the title of chief, no one opposed you because of your skills as a Hunter and Tactican You are J’amp Guud Big Chief of the bullywugs. You will lead your tribe to control the Swamps, or die trying. Prior threads: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/44036558/
Majority vote for actions, then roll d100 after action is decided. All decisions by me are final. Have fun and conquer the swamps
Work is started on a place for the hoppers to stay it will be done in 2 turns. The scout who first rode the hoppers is named [name him], and put in charge of future scouting missions because J’amp looks for creativity and inventiveness in his tribe. (hero unit bonus to scouting) While observing the now docile hoppers, you find they seem to eat vegetation.
The special spears are ready. We call the ones for trees axes and the ones for digging shovels. -20 wood and stone.... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>44094003 I am writing a book with this sort of premise. Most of it takes place in the Not! Holy Roman Empire.
Cool part is, WW1 had a lot of crazy tech alongside more traditional equipment. Like early tankers with chainmail meshes and half-plate. I would suggest focusing on geopolitics, as the tangled mess of aggrements and alliances is what started the war. Prussia is awesome, especially in a fantasy setting, include Not! Prussia. If you want dogfights, The Luftwafte considered themselves knights,... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>tfw when you organize a tg game >eight hundred replies >take forever to set up >only two ready for game time >run them through hastily cobbled dungeon instead of campaign >it was beautiful
We worldbuilt, checked skills, killed minions and slew a miniboss AND a regular boss. They even tried to make friends with a random encounter hobgoblin. They might have been some of the best... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
>Join a /tg/ game >spend hours chatting with the GM and the other players, putting together a massive sprawling continent to explore and learn about, plot hooks everywhere and everyone's looking forward to game >no one shows up on game day >game ded
Welcome to A Song of Revenge and Gold: House Malroy Quest. In which you take the reins of a House of storied glorious past since Aegon’s Conquering, but whose fortunes have taken a turn for the worse in the doom that Robert’s Rebellion brought. Taking place in 284AC a year after the Rebellion has ended you are Brynden Malroy, second son to Lord Vamos Malroy and Lady Esemella Hayford and the last living heir to Steadhold and House Malroy.
House Malroy is a pre-genned House designed around the idea of a story within the Crownlands of a House fiercely loyal to the Targaryens... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
Steadhold had become busy in your short time away from her, exceedingly busy almost. Wesley’s Melee had drawn quite the turnout from the local regions and more than a few had already arrived for the event, from your solar in the castle proper you could see the sea of colors and standards from across the realm. It was surreal, mere months ago the yard was nothing more than mud and broken wood, a memory of its former glory. Now it was beautiful, freshly sodden, alive with the sounds of merriment and jest. Gawen had his hands full with all of the horses that had come along with their masters but it served his purposes as well, coin passed hands to examine pedigrees, receive his stamp of approval, in some cases if the colors and blood were strong he would pay for a round of studding of the horse. Every evening one of his stablehands would report a sum to Maester Benjin and he would tally it with the ever increasing list. Gawen’s services to your family had been invaluable for decades, but now it truly spoke to you his worth, the opinion of such a master of his craft, there was worth in your horses to be certain, but their keeper knew how to pull every penny. Your cousin to say the least was nothing but smiles, his months of hard work having finally paid off, the ever growing lists, nearing two hundred now, made the young man giddy. But he handled it all with a seriousness, he understood there was more to this than the martial prowess of Knights, there was an element of posturing of your own purpose. Across the bridge you would stare, hard, unflinching, and dare him. Dare that bloody bastard to respond. Would he be so bold? You had no idea, but in your heart of hearts you wished for foolish action, a single misstep.
Having finished dressing yourself you decide it is time to attend your monthly meeting, it was hardly a matter of importance this month, simply a quick recap and your signatures and blessing of the decisions Ser Mason Flowers had made. Your old friend had settled into his role with a quick easiness that almost startled you, he had made purpose to gather as much wealth as he could and was on a constant recruiting mission, the Sons of Gold and their patrols about your lands had drummed up support from more than a few sources. The smallfolk, meager as they were, had been happy... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
The trip to the great hall was short as it always was from your chambers, before opening the door you took a deep breath, steadying yourself, grounding. You were a Lord. The Lord of Steadhold and her domains, this was your home, these were your people. They were your focus now, the grand games of the Realm could wait a few months until your betrothed arrived, until such time you need make your name not one to be trifled with, nor so haphazardly thrown aside. You push through, a wave of quiet rippling from your point, all eyes turnt to you. Your small council already waited,... Comment too long. Click here to view the full text.
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