Log:Broken Dolls: What Vorpal Saw

Broken Dolls: What Vorpal Saw
There's an abrupt about-face, and he starts back the other way fast as he can go.
Participants Vorpal with Elia as ST	30 November, 2017 The God of the Hunt decides it's time for him to go have a look down one of the narrow trods the dolls leave. Part of Broken Dolls.
Location The Hedge
->> +Fruit <<- Vorpal uses 1 of his pow Coupnettle. GAME: Vorpal regain 1 Willpower ->> +Fruit <<- Vorpal uses 3 of his pow Catseye Clover. GAME: Vorpal regain 6 Glamour ->> +Fruit <<- Vorpal uses 2 of his pow Wyrmthumb. GAME: Vorpal regain 4 Glamour GAME: Vorpal rolls dice for: Wind 1, Elements 2 (at home, catch met), Separation 1, Wind 1 again, Sep 4, smoke 2, smoke 3, smoke 5! Also Element 1. GAME: Vorpal spends 9 Glamour -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 6 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 2 2 2 3 4 4 5 5 5 6 6 6 7 7 8 8 8 9 9 10 > ================================-> >> Dexterity + Wyrd 9-Again << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 15 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 4 5 6 6 7 7 7 8 8 8 8 9 9 9 9 9 10 10 10 10 10 10 > ============================-> >> Dexterity + Wyrd + 6 9-Again << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 14 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 1 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 5 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 8 8 8 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 10 10 10 10 > ============================-> >> Dexterity + Wyrd + 6 9-Again << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 10 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 3 4 5 5 5 5 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 7 7 9 9 9 9 10 10 10 10 10 10 > ============================-> >> Dexterity + Wyrd + 6 9-Again << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 12 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 4 4 4 4 5 5 5 5 6 6 7 7 8 8 8 8 8 9 9 10 10 10 10 10 > ===========================-> >> Dexterity + Wyrd + 10 9-Again << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 3 Successes < 1 1 1 1 1 2 3 4 5 5 7 9 10 10 > =============================-> >> Wyrd + Intelligence 9-Again << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 3 Successes < 1 1 2 4 5 5 6 7 7 8 8 9 > =====================================-> >> Wyrd + Wits 9-Again << <- GAME: Vorpal spends 1 Willpower -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 2 Successes < 2 2 2 3 5 5 6 7 10 10 > ===================================-> >> Wyrd + 2 - 3 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 1 Success < 1 2 2 3 3 6 7 7 10 > ===================================-> >> Wyrd + 2 - 3 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 1 Success < 1 2 3 4 6 7 7 8 > ===================================-> >> Wyrd + 2 - 3 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 4 Successes < 5 6 8 8 8 9 > ===================================-> >> Wyrd + 2 - 5 No Flags << <- Is this the wisest thing in the world? No. But the God of the Hunt is not known for his wisdom. He's known for hunting down the things that threaten his flock, and sundering their ability to continue to do so. The first step to doing that in this instance? Is finding where the Dolls operate himself. He's not willing to take help this time. He knows their firepower, he knows he can withstand it for what he thinks is long enough to escape, and he doesn't trust that he'll be able to remove anyone else if things go south. So. When he stands before the charred foliage of one of the forcemade trods leading into the Looptrod? He does it alone. He studies the tracks, considering them, before concluding that he'd have an easier time tracking a deer without snow- which is to say, not much chance at all. Instead of following their tracks, then, he decides, he'll just -turn- the tracks he can see... into what he needs. The darkness surrounding him starts to seethe and pulse, corruscating around him as he directs his will, his Wyrd, at the remnants of their pathways. Light dies around him, the only gleams in the darkness those of the thorns, sharp as daggers in his presence and power. And then the darkness floods forward along the ground, through the underbrush, starting to leap and jitter and jump, hunting the bits and pieces of the piecemeal trod, linking them and coaxing the thorns aside to prepare a way for the Godling to approach... wherever it is they lead. This is not the wisest thing in the world, no. But it is, at least, an action. So, there is that. it takes a long time for him to do this, and the first piece of opening the trod and creating it is only part of it. It's a process. One and another and another, he links together the bits of the deer-trail-like trod winding thin and careful through the thorns. It isn't so thin and careful by the end of it: it's a casual hallway through the thorns, painted in dark shadows, bearing the unmistakable thumbprint of the godling. But, hey, at least he ain't fall off the trod into the thorns, he just, you know, made a nice big hallway. Of course, as he continues to widen the trod, it's entirely possible that he'll catch the attention of... something. Anything. Such is the wont of Vorpal's footprint in the Hedge. Seven hundred and fifty thousand square feet of dark, edge forest declaring that at least for the moment, it is the traveling domain of the Shadowed Hunt. Not the barking, rampant charge through the thorns that the Wild Hunt provides, no- this hunt is dark, and frightening, and uncertain. There's a comfort in the knowledge that the Wild Hunt WILL claim you. The Shadow Hunt offers no such guarantees, and it's this wash of shadows and thorny blades that spreads with the hallway Vorpal carves for himself as he heads towards his goal. He's focused, but not inattentive- the Wyrd tells him of those things it empowers that heads his way, so long as they do not themselves hide within the Wyrd's protection, and that, hopefully, should allow some warning should things come to meet him en route. -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 1 Success < 1 1 3 3 6 7 7 8 > ================================-> >> Clarity + 1 + 2 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 5 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 2 3 3 4 4 5 7 9 9 10 10 10 > ========================-> >> Wits + Composure + 1 + 2 8-Again << <- -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 7 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 2 3 3 5 6 6 7 7 7 7 7 7 8 8 8 8 9 10 10 > ==============================================-> >> 13 8-Again << <- -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 5 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 2 2 4 4 4 4 5 5 6 6 6 7 9 9 10 10 10 > ==============================================-> >> 13 8-Again << <- -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 5 Successes for an exceptional success. < 2 3 3 3 4 5 5 5 5 6 7 7 7 8 9 9 10 10 > ==============================================-> >> 13 8-Again << <- There's ... something. Before Vorpal can get to the end of the trod. No doubt the place has its sentries, and the mild mental itch that comes with knowing there's something nearby. Something in the -- Just out of the corner of his eye, the godling catches sight of -- something. A movement, at the corner of his eye. Twenty feet up in the trees that he's melded into shadow-stained thorns? Two shadows, moving through the trunks and the thorns as if they were born to it. Which, maybe they were. Vorpal flicks his eyes, lost in the shadows of his mien, of his armor and helmet, upwards. Two movements, quiet, sneaky, almost lost in the darkness he commands. -Almost.- But then, this isn't the extent of fading from view. Vorpal's flesh already does that without command, under assault from light sources. But now? Now he commands it, demands his form fade from sight, invoking the final clause of the contract of Smoke, sending the light that would strike his form wandering through it instead as he moves to climb into the trees to engage the pair of wicked things playing guard dog for the camp. -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 3 Successes < 1 2 2 2 2 3 4 5 6 9 9 10 > ============================-> >> Intelligence + Wyrd No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 4 Successes < 1 2 2 2 4 4 4 4 4 5 6 6 6 7 8 8 9 10 > =========================-> >> Dexterity + Stealth + 3 8-Again << <- -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 2 Successes < 1 3 3 5 5 5 5 6 8 10 > ===============================================-> >> 8 8-Again << <- -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 5 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 2 2 2 5 5 5 7 8 9 9 10 10 > ===============================================-> >> 8 8-Again << <- -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 9 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 1 2 2 4 5 7 7 8 8 8 8 8 8 9 10 10 > ===============================================-> >> 8 8-Again << <- They don't know exactly where he is, that much is clear. No one can, because it's Smoke, and seeing him is, well. Not a thing. Perhaps it's the shaking of the trees as he moves -- light as an ounce of weight or less -- that is minutely perceptible to one of the two that he can see. Perhaps it's the sound of his breath. Perhaps it's -- He'll never know. What he does know is that the two shadows -- ugly things, now that he can see them better, as if briarwolves had half a junkyard stapled onto their faces and contracted bubonic syphilis of the everything -- turn, one after the other, and both of them tilt their heads like curious puppies. One of them howls. The other does. A third howl follows, and a fourth, and a fifth: or maybe it's just the echo of the first howls, going off through the thorns and briars. 'Ah, hells.' Vorpal is, to be blunt, more than a little aggravated. These are some impressive modifications to be able to pierce the myriad magicks he's put to work limiting his presence- but then, one can only be -so unnoticed- with a footprint three quarters a million square feet in total. Rather than bemoan the limitations of his magicks- time enough for that later- he pulls free the stained butcher's blade and prepares to silence the sentries before more than necessary can be communicated. GAME: Vorpal rolled 4 + 2, putting himself on the initiative roster at 18. GAME: Elia rolled 6, putting "Wolf 1" on the initiative roster at 14. GAME: Elia rolled 10, putting "Wolf 2" on the initiative roster at 18. GAME: Elia rolled 2, putting "Wolf 3" on the initiative roster at 10. -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 9 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 4 4 5 5 5 5 6 6 6 6 7 7 7 7 7 7 8 8 9 9 9 9 9 10 10 > ==============-> >> Dexterity + Brawl + 1 + 2 + 2 + 10 8-Again << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 3 Successes < 1 1 1 2 2 3 3 3 4 5 5 5 5 6 6 7 7 7 7 8 10 10 > ==================================-> >> Dexterity + 10 8-Again << <- GAME: Elia removes "wolf 1" from the initiative roster. -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 2 Successes < 1 1 3 5 5 6 7 9 9 > ==============================================-> >> 9 No Flags << <- -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 2 Successes < 2 2 4 5 6 7 7 7 9 10 > ==============================================-> >> 9 No Flags << <- He'd missed one. That's unsettling for the Godling. So, when the howling starts, and what might be a relay chain communicating information back towards Camp Dollenheim and Kennel Wolfenstein, it's that third one, the one sneaky enough to evade notice, that gets Vorpal's first attentions. Vorpal flits through the branches, less concerned with stealth now that he's exposed enough to report about it, and descends like a thunderbolt, delivering a chain of vicious, bladeknuckled strikes that throw the cybriarwolf off the tree limbs and down into the thorns below to impale and explode, leaving the Godling with two more immediate threats to silence before moving further in. When their compatriot falls out of the thorns, the other two begin to retreat -- they howl their communications but act almost in concert. They are, after all, a pack, something that the God of the Hunt understands very, very well indeed. The thorns around Vorpal grow quite sharp, glistening hungrily and extending in length -- not an unformidable barrier. And then the trod that he made? Begins to close over, sort of. A wall of brambles bursts up behind him, around him, crowding him, attempting to block his way through. GAME: Vorpal spends 1 Glamour GAME: Vorpal spends 1 Glamour with reason: Wind 1 refresh -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 14 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 1 2 2 2 3 3 3 4 4 4 7 7 7 7 7 7 7 8 8 8 8 8 8 9 9 9 9 10 10 10 10 > ==========================-> >> Dexterity + Wyrd + 10 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 14 Successes for an exceptional success. < 1 1 1 2 2 2 3 3 3 3 3 4 4 4 4 5 5 5 6 6 7 7 7 8 8 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 9 10 > ======================-> >> Dexterity + Athletics + 14 9-Again << <- ->> +Fruit <<- Vorpal uses 1 of his pow Stabapple. GAME: Elia removes "wolf 3" from the initiative roster. -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 0 Success < 6 > ==============================================-> >> 1 No Flags << <- -> >> Elia to Here << <-============================================== Rolled 5 Successes for an exceptional success. < 3 3 3 5 6 7 8 8 9 10 10 > ==============================================-> >> 9 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 2 Successes < 4 6 6 7 8 9 > ===================================-> >> Wyrd + 2 - 5 No Flags << <- Augh. This wasn't quite his sort of Shaping. This was clumsy. Brutish. Fitting for these monstrous wolves, this enforced mass of thorns trying to dissuade his path. Vorpal's having none of it, though, and plows through, heedless of the thorns sipping at his glamour as he looses one of his -own- thorns from its place at the small of his back. The length of Stabapple whips to hand in a heartbeat, and flies loose in another. What Vorpal THINKS is going to happen is that the spike lands home, the cybriarwolf tumbles down and dies, and the path of briars ceases. What happens INSTEAD is that the spike lands home, the cybriarwolf tumbles down and dies, AAAAAND the path is suddenly a violent, abhorrent MESS of thorny baloney. There's a temptation to fling one of his remaining thorns after the last wolf, but that would be risky- if it even hit, he'd have to risk his grip to even attempt it. So. No. Instead, Vorpal takes a moment to regather his Wyrd and ply it to the trod again, shoving aside the wicked, nasty thorns and making a path for himself again. He's got a couple minutes left to ply his invisibility, and he intends to make use of it as he continues towards his destination, ego pricked but body intact. And while he's doing that? Smoothing out the thorns so that they're more shadowy and to his liking? The other wolf disappears. All gone. No howling, no calls, not yet. Apparently seeing two of its fellows plummet to their death from an unknown assailant is enough to shut the cyberwolf up and make him fuck right off. GAME: Elia may be clearing initiatives at this location. GAME: Elia clears the initiative roster in this location. So be it. Vorpal makes all invisible haste down the trod. He has reconnaisance to complete and consider. He's putting a bit more effort into remaining covert while moving, despite being invisible. Three quarters of a million square feet is a lot of space to search for one sneaky godling. It's a ridiculous amount of space. And, having been chased off? The wolves aren't coming back... yet. Yet. The key word must be yet. There's a wide-open space at the end of that trod, buzzing with activity. Dozens if not hundreds of the littler soldiers that Vorpal handled with ease prior swarm across the ground, a hive of activity which pools and puddles at various places around the half-acre of cleared ground deep in the Hedge, and flows up the walls. Efficient use of space means that the dolls walk on the ceiling far above him as well, along paths on the walls, down to the ground again. -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 1 Success < 2 3 4 4 5 6 6 7 9 > ========================-> >> Wits + Composure + 1 + 2 8-Again << <- They seem to be clustered most around something that's suspended on one of the far walls. It's shiny and chrome, but that's about all Vorpal can see from here. That's enough to start going on. He keeps to the shadows- easy, what with his effect on things, spreading his personal darkness in streaks along the edge of things, a safer path to travel and vanish into, once his invisibility fails. -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 4 Successes < 1 2 2 2 4 7 8 9 9 10 > =======================-> >> Dexterity + Athletics - 4 9-Again << <- Slowed, but able to go forward. It is disorienting to climb along the walls here, like the gravity works on a switch that's in the hand of a hyperactive toddler. Up? Down? UPDOWNUPDOWNLEFTRIGHTUPDOWN! It makes getting to where he can see what the shit is going on a process. But he gets to a vantage point where he can see this chrome thing. It looks like the fever-dream cross between an octopus and a War Boy's rig: long, sleek tubes extend out toward the walls, moving of their own accord. They pick up the dolls and put them back down, moving them from place to place. -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 0 Success < 2 2 6 > ============================-> >> Wits + Medicine - 1 No Flags << <- GAME: Vorpal spends 1 Willpower -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 1 Success < 3 5 7 8 > ========================-> >> Wits + Medicine + 3 - 3 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 3 Successes < 7 7 8 10 10 > ==========================-> >> Wits + Occult + 1 - 3 No Flags << <- On observation, Vorpal can see something being fed into the top of the machine. A bit more squinting, and a bit more watching? That sludge looks an awful lot like the amaranthine slurry that Czcibor prepared for Alonso to deliver to the capitve that was rescued during the Ashen Hunt. GAME: Vorpal spends 1 Willpower -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 4 Successes < 2 3 4 5 7 7 7 9 9 10 10 > ================-> >> Wits + Composure + 1 + 2 + 3 - 4 8-Again << <- Back on the ground, there are a few small tents surrounded by a grouping of the tanks that Vorpal knows the dolls use. It's relatively quiet over there right now, but there's also a door behind those tents. It doesn't look like that door's been opened in a long time; the Hedge is slowly growing back over it. 'Perhaps,' thinks the Godling, 'That there is either feeding or... repairing. The dolls. Keeping them active. The proper fruit mix could sedate or destroy.' That, though, is thought for another time. He counts his blessings, pushes his magicks back through his form to keep him hidden for just a little longer, and- And wait. That- there. In the tents, or the midst of them. A door. A -door-. Being slowly reclaimed by the Hedge. Tanks be damned. That's something needs investigated, at least cursorily before he leaves. GAME: Vorpal spends 1 Glamour GAME: Vorpal spends 1 Willpower -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 2 Successes < 3 3 4 5 5 6 6 7 7 7 9 10 > ============================-> >> Intelligence + Wyrd No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 4 Successes < 1 1 1 5 6 6 8 9 10 10 > =======================-> >> Dexterity + Athletics - 4 9-Again << <- ->> +Fruit <<- Vorpal uses 1 of his pow Coupnettle. GAME: Vorpal regain 1 Willpower That said... cursory investigation becomes more and more concerning as Vorpal attempts to work his way nearer. The distance between himself and the doorway doesn't shift proportionally to the distance travelled. And the last place he was that worked anything like that... Vorpal stops dead. Just like that, he wants nothing to do with that door anymore. There's an abrupt about-face, and he starts back the other way fast as he can go. It's time to leave, with the information about the... doll-juicer, and the... door. -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 3 Successes < 1 3 6 6 8 8 10 > ===================================-> >> Wyrd + 2 - 5 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 1 Success < 1 3 3 6 7 9 > ===================================-> >> Wyrd + 2 - 5 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 0 Success < 1 3 3 5 6 7 > ===================================-> >> Wyrd + 2 - 5 No Flags << <- -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 0 Success < 1 3 4 4 6 > ===================================-> >> Wyrd + 2 - 6 No Flags << <- GAME: Vorpal spends 1 Willpower -> >> Vorpal to Here << <-============================================ Rolled 3 Successes < 1 2 5 6 7 7 8 10 10 > ===============================-> >> Wyrd + 2 + 3 - 7 No Flags << <- The trip back is, for the -most- part, smooth. Vorpal's magicks keep him cloaked well into his departure onto his own Trod, and his thorough paranoia leads him to weave the trod shut on his heels. He stops three times- twice en route and once upon arriving back at the Looptrod. It's then, at the end of it, that things start to sour. Vorpal turns as he arrives back at the Looptrod, his shadows already bunching with the collecting of his will and Wyrd. The shadows slip into the trod and weave between trees and brambles, stitching the path shut- or trying to. The shadows pull, and- fail. They snap, the discordant sound boiling down the path like the world's least appealing crescendo. A frown crosses the godling's face, and the shadows darken even further as they intensify, more shadowthreads weaving across the trod while others snap from the tension- until they all do. So here's Vorpal, standing on the Looptrod, staring into what WAS a faint, barely open trod that he pried open to go gallivanting off on his own, now standing wide open a full third of the way to a bristling enemy encampment. He curls his lip and starts to swear, before pausing, caught off guard. "You know. I don't even know how to swear anymore. What am I supposed to say, "Me dammit?" He chuckles once, then- as if trying to catch the trod itself offguard- snaps back towards it, dead blackness swallowing the area as he slams his utmost against the resistant Trod. It's not threads this time. It's chains, woven through thorns and branches and bushes, and- on his cue- they all rattle at once, and SLAM the trod gone. The shadows flitter and fade, leaving him standing at the perfectly normal, no-long-a-trod patch of the Hedge. "... well, that's that, then. Time to get this news where it needs to go." And Vorpal wanders off, as if he didn't just dive into the Deep Hedge alone, carve a trod for his own convenience, get caught by their security and STILL wander through their camp to return with what he hopes is vital information including a point of interest and a point of "seriously you fuckers don't even get close to that thing" before coming very close to FAILING to shut that trod behind him. You know. Like you do.