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Sypon rolled 2 6-sided dice:
5, 3
Total: 8 (2-12)
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 Posted: Sun Apr 17, 2016 1:02 pm
9/20 HP Regen: 2/3 Off B Trink: 1/1 Military +1 (4 damage and GANYMA'S POWER LEVELS UP!!!! Obviously next battle the mechanics will change but HERE WE GOOOO!) Ganyma’s gaze went wide, feeling a blossoming rush of pain that pushed against the back of his eyestalks. He howled. All of the struggle to release Kursha’s grip was to no avail, with Ganyma gritting his teeth so hard that he could feel them give with the pressure. Through his clenched jaws, he hissed out a dire response. “You’re…. Not…” His eyelids squeezed shut and he made another attempt to jerk away, loosing a torrent of teal from where Kursha was mangling his bullet wound. “You’re not worth it!” It was a choking gasp, but the power behind his words were evident. Ganyma had changed his mind – what else was new? Kursha was no worthy opponent. The only important mission he had now was to keep the caravan safe. At this point, survival would suffice. With some effort, Ganyma focused on a quick retreat – or at least a skin-saving regenerative miracle. Ganyma found himself unable to separate himself from Kursha as pain lanced through him. Suddenly, a familiar sensation arose. Twitching flesh, reorganizing bone... And then something else. Ganyma opened his eyes and wailed. His regeneration had flared up without warning. The writhing of his shoulder grew more intense, but unlike before his flesh wasn’t arranging into its original healthy position. It tightened and cracked, wavering across the surface as Ganyma’s exoskeleton hardened into a protective chitinous surface which encased his wound as well as his aggressor’s grip. It was a craggy mess of toughened material, jutting from the surface of his skin in organic disarray. The sheen and seams in this new regenerative coat looked somewhat like armored plates – but by a certain stretch of the imagination considering its current permutation. Traces of shock lined Ganyma’s face at its grotesque entrance.
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Green Minuet rolled 1 6-sided dice:
1
Total: 1 (1-6)
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Posted: Thu Apr 21, 2016 5:13 am
Health: 3 Eagle Eyes: Active Agility B Trinket: 0 As Ganyma writhed and screamed, Kursha felt no small amount of satisfaction. Ganyma may have been impervious to lasting damage, but he could still feel pain. Sneering, Kursha tightened his grip, and honed in on amplifying the effect. It was only when the tealblood choked out a response between grit teeth that he let up with a rattle of laughter. “You just can't do it,” Kursha cut in at last. There was a squelch, as his thumb found the metal cartridge. Leaning in, Kursha forced eye contact, his pupils swirling into crosshairs. He pushed. “You're exactly the same as back then,” he continued. “No guts, no...” His voice trailed off suddenly. Ganyma's flesh began to ripple, a sure tell sign that he was about to regenerate. Snarling, Kursha tried to rip his thumb free. Then something unusual happened. Even as he pulled away, the skin in Ganyma's shoulder tightened and expanded. The surface turned glossy. Within moments, Kursha's entire hand was encased in the hard, chitinous material. Too preoccupied by his entrapment to notice Ganyma's own shock, Kursha focussed on getting his hand free. Aggressively tugging on his own arm, he struggled against plates. The barbed edges bit into his skin, resisting his retreat. Then with a fierce yank he escaped, letting out a yowl. His hand was free, but bloody and mangled. In the mists behind the tree line, wavering silhouettes faded in and out of sight. [ Kursha does 2 damage. ]
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Sypon rolled 2 6-sided dice:
5, 5
Total: 10 (2-12)
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Posted: Fri Apr 22, 2016 10:09 pm
9/20 HP
Regen: 1/3
Off B Trink: 1/1
Military +1
(Using another charge of the power for RP effect)
Ganyma's shoulder was a hard, glossy spaulder. He took a few confused steps back, head in utter dissarray. He was in no mood nor mindset to fight - not any more, not now. Scattered as he was it was no wonder that Ganyma would have rather fled than continued to fight. But there was another reason.
His vision leveled out, ripples from the terror of his pounding shoulder and Kursha's viciousness fading into the murk of the swamp. There was something in the distance, and it was coming closer. Trollish shapes crept closer to the duo. Half-melted grey figures.
"Kursha. Kursha!" Ganyma barked. He took a step back, his bloodpusher pressing against his chest. "We have to run - now!"
6 damage.
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Posted: Tue Apr 26, 2016 2:17 am
Health: 0Kursha's voice died down to a hiss. Clenching his fist, he dove for the rifle while Ganyma stood stunned. Landing in a crouch, he hefted the stock up by his shoulder. Suddenly the tealblood barked his name. Kursha hesitated. His finger itched against the trigger, and he raised the muzzle. Ganyma had taken a step back however. His gaze was elsewhere. Eyes narrowing, Kursha followed his stare. It did not take long to see what held his attention. He rose to his feet, breathing shallow. Distant, misshapen figures approached through the tree-line. They moved in stilted steps, limbs jerking out of time. Kursha's jaw tightened. With any luck, they would descend on the rebels and finish the job for him. The Phoenix Initiative was as good as gone. But... He glanced back towards Ganyma. “Coward,” Kursha spat. “I won't run.”Sypon Kursha, now is not a good time. :I
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Posted: Tue Apr 26, 2016 10:48 pm
You won’t run? Ganyma stood still in place for a moment, feeling his boots sink in a patch of particularly loose mud. Kursha was perplexing. In survival, things weren’t so complicated. He cocked his head.
“Okay.”
Ganyma backed up a few steps, and looked over his good shoulder. They hadn’t emerged from the direction they’d come. There was still a chance he could get back to the Mother Grub… But no. Kursha could easily hunt him. If he lead him to wherever the rebels were going, he was a goner. Ganyma had no idea where he was, but Kursha had to know the way out.
“Then you can try to kill me before the daywalkers get here, or the sun comes up, or both. I doubt you can.” He growled. Ganyma clenched his fists, feeling the chitin creak and shift organically on his shoulder. “Or, you can take me back with you.”
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Posted: Mon May 02, 2016 6:51 am
Whatever response Kursha had hoped to hear from Ganyma never came. Panting, he turned his gaze from the tealblood back to the daywalkers. They were close enough that he could make out their deformed silhouettes even without the use of his crosshairs. Much closer and he would lose all opportunity of escape. He did not have a lot of time to weigh his options. All but grinding his teeth, Kursha mulled over the tealblood's words. His pride stung at the insult, but with the battle rush fading, some clarity returned to him. As repulsive as it was to admit it, Ganyma had a point. He could not afford to keep playing around with the tealblood. He would have to force a strategic retreat... that, or die where he stood. Kursha licked his lips, feeling the weight of indecision. He lowered his gun. The answer was obvious. Still, he did not move. Running away was bad enough as it was, but to do so at the behest of his opponent? He would almost rather die. No one told him what to do. No one. Inwardly he cursed. Ganyma had set him up to lose either way. He either admitted defeat and fled, or he perished in the swamp with a false victory. s**t. Kursha squeezed his eyes shut. His thoughts were a hurricane of disjointed imagery: the mother grub, Regina, the daywalkers, Ganyma, the caves, a ribbon, Alifax, the Colonel... The corners of his mouth tightened. He did not want to make a decision. No, he knew his decision, but he was stalling. Stalling in the hope that somehow he would be excused from the responsibility of deciding. It was why he had responded in the way that he had. So that he could not be held accountable for his loss. He had failed to consider any alternate outcome however. Even with his eyes closed, they still burned. Fine. Fine. FINE. So, he lost. Big deal. That did not mean anything. His failure did not have to be a permanent indication of his worth. He could come back from it. He could do better. But he could only do that if he decided to act. And he needed to act now. Exhaling, Kursha opened his eyes. His mind was made up. Reaching under his jacket, he unhooked a grenade, the very last from his assault in the caverns. It had been doused numerous times throughout his hunt in the swamp, but he had no doubt it would still work. Military grade stuff did not ruin so easily. Gun still in hand, he pulled the pin with his teeth. Then, drawing back his arm, he chucked it as far as he could towards the rebels. In the distance he saw a small splash. “Let's go!” Kursha hissed, making for the thick of the trees. With any luck, the explosion would draw the undead away from him and Ganyma, and guide them towards the remains of Phoenix Initiative. If not, then at least it would give the rebels a good scare. Either way, he could not afford to sit around and wait for the results. He glanced back over his shoulder at the tealblood. “Don't make me shoot out your kneecaps,” he drawled. Just as a gentle reminder that this alliance was only temporary. Sypon Stop breaking Kursha. Also apologies for the wall of internal dialogue.
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Posted: Mon May 02, 2016 8:59 pm
Ganyma’s throat tightened as the explosive lobbed over the bushes. Kursha didn’t have to do that. He didn’t have to throw the first explosive those many sweeps ago, but he did. It was an image he couldn’t fully get used to. “They’re long gone by now,” Ganyma grumbled. He braced himself for the explosion and heard the cracking of trees in the distance. No screams. Good. The shambling dead behind them stalled for a moment and Ganyma didn’t waste any time. “You’re the dummy if you think I have any reason to slow us down. Or run.” He sniffed. Ganyma began to stalk towards the greenblood, feeling all of his joints ache. His shoulder pulsed, and being right next to his spongeclot he could hear the chitin cracking and straining with every movement of his healing bones. Experimentally, he flexed his arm. The armor-like substance was thick and still somewhat malleable, like the plates of a hornbeast. In its thinner sections it sharpened into edges, and where it had set it seemed more like a shell. It almost reminded him of the spiked imperial armor of a drone. Ganyma wrinkled his nose. It was so… Strange. The sense of overwhelming danger with Kursha was pushed to the side momentarily as he pondered this new development. Ganyma quietly pushed on, looking at Kursha with disdain. A thought popped into his head. This would be the second time he was considered to be “saved” from the rebel side by a royalist commander. Differences aside, the aftermath of the failure that was Old Hemisect on the military’s part struck him. “If you don’t take out the Mother Grub, you gonna end up like Captain Puchen?”
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Posted: Tue May 03, 2016 6:03 am
Thankfully Kursha still had enough energy to scoff at the tealblood's asinine reply. He almost snapped out a retort as well, but caught himself just in time. As far as he was concerned Ganyma was his prisoner. There was no need to treat him as anything but. Conversation would be unnecessary. Still, under his breath he could not help but mutter, “You didn't have a problem stabbing me in the back before.”Disregarding the tealblood, Kursha kept his eyes forwards and surveyed their surroundings, searching for a familiar landmark. He had the rising sun to orient himself, but the swamp had proven treacherous thus far. He was loathe to cross unexplored territory... especially with daywalkers on the move. Selecting a gap in an arrangement of trees that looked familiar, or at least passable, he shifted their course to the east, grateful for the tealblood's silence in the meantime. It allowed him to focus on forging a path that bypassed the undead. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that they still followed, though their numbers were less than before. That was something at least. He could lose them in the wood ahead. As they passed through the tree line and into the thick of the forest beyond, Ganyma broke the quiet with a simple question. Kursha bristled, attention snapping back to the tealblood. His lip curled at the mention of the captain, but something else flickered across his features as well. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? As far as Regina is concerned though, this mission has been a success,” he said with pointed finality. End of discussion. No matter his own doubts, and the dread waiting in the back of his mind. He could never let that show. Even so, the very existence of the question left him feeling exposed. Time to redirect. “Anyway, you should be more worried about yourself,” he continued with cool indifference. “Strike two, and you can't be worth that much.”Suddenly there was a splash. Looking down, he stepped saw that in a deceptively deep pool of water. No, not a pool; a bog, several hundred meters wide, the surface littered with lily pads and other aquatic flora. The trees had thinned here, only a few of the more adventurous varieties electing to grow in deepest parts of the water. Kursha surveyed the shore. Going around would put them right in the path of their pursuers, something he wanted to put off for as long as possible. As soon as they engaged, they risked getting surrounded and he had already made up his mind that today he would not be dying. He took another step. The water lapped up several inches above his ankles. Another and it reached his knee. He took a third step. The water rose no higher. It was passable. He breathed a sigh of relief, and waved Ganyma over. “We can lose them in the thicket on the other side after we cross. It's not that deep,” he explained. A thought occurred to him and he turned back to regard the tealblood. A smile quirked at the corners of his mouth. “Well, for me. You might have to swim.” Then, without further ado, he turned as quickly as he could in the mud, and began to wade through the water. The ripples made by their progress jostled the lily pads, and the swamp water gurgled and belched.
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Posted: Sun Jun 05, 2016 10:22 pm
“Sure.” Ganyma responded. His tone was clipped and tired. In the back of his mind he imagined the woods, and a funny thought passed through his thinkpan: Kursha as the hunted. It was only bittersweet because the greenblood was wily enough to wriggle out of it. Ganyma himself had already steeled himself for the worst. He could do hard labor – he’d already fought as a criminal once. Already escaped the woods, already proven himself as worth living. So long as he kept fighting, he would stay alive. Even if he didn’t have anything to fight for, he could always fight for his life. Ganyma nodded silently as Kursha explained the plan. He was not sure how his arm would hold out in the water – but in the same breath realized his wounds had already partially closed. He was too thankful for his life to bother responding to Kursha’s petty retorts. Ganyma drew his injured arm close to him and stepped into the depths. He was, fortunately, not so deep that he was entirely submerged. Head above the water, Ganyma followed the form of the greenblood slowly and deliberately. As unpleasant as the bog was, it was a wet reprieve. Ganyma felt the armor on his arm and was surprised to feel a number of hairline cracks across its surface.
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Posted: Sat Aug 13, 2016 6:43 pm
Happy to have silence at last, Kursha pushed on ahead through the bog, gun held aloft. He occasionally glanced back at Ganyma, who waded just within his peripheral vision, to mark his progress as well as to watch for any sign of treachery. Ganyma would be an idiot not to try something, and though he had oft proven himself as such, if any of his lessons had sunk in Kursha could not afford to be complacent. Once the tealblood was up to his shoulders in water, Kursha returned his attention to the shoreline, plotting their escape and thinking no further. He had limited his train of thought to a severely narrow focus. Anything prior to or following their survival was off-limits. He needed to stay emotionally detached if they were to survive this, and every other thought might as well have been gunpowder. Halfway across the bog, Kursha's gaze flickered back to Ganyma once again, eyes passing over the reeds, the melted shape stalking just behind, the shadowy trees along the shore... He did a double take. The rotting figure had risen out of the swamp so suddenly, so quietly. A fissure opened in what must have once been a face, bloated beyond recognition and and a swarm of flies poured out. A forked limb with dangling tendons reached. “Duck!” Kursha snapped, whirling as fast as he could in the water. The muzzle of the rifle flashed, and the crack of gunfire boomed out over the water. The creature fell back, a second hole in his head. Even as it did, the swamp water gurgled. More shapes reared out of the bog, wet and dripping, awakened from their slumber.
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Posted: Sat Aug 13, 2016 7:42 pm
Kursha’s alert split through Ganyma’s subconscious and before he was even aware of what he was doing he dove into the water. The small explosion above him made him open his eyes, the dark murk of the swamp lighting up with the firing of Kursha’s weapon. Instinctively, Ganyma looked down. Even in his swimming vision, the horrific form behind him came into view. Melted limbs slowly dragged a daywalker along underwater. Ganyma resurfaced with a wet gasp, his stomach churning with fear and nausea. He had to rely on the marksman – getting too close in his tired state, with his strange new arm covering, in this deep bog, was too risky. “Kursha! I see a clearing. Follow me.” He put a hand on Kursha’s shoulder and gave him a solid nod. If they didn’t join forces now it would be the death of them both. Ganyma kicked up his knees, ridding his soiled boots of the muck that sucked them into the mushy undertow. His charge was sure to attract some of the walkers, but there wasn’t much choice in his decision. Getting to solid ground gave him a fighting chance. As he splashed through the water, he felt a peculiar tingling sensation in his armored arm. Please don’t let that mean you’re falling off, Ganyma thought darkly to himself.
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2016 2:30 pm
Kursha bristled under the hand on his shoulder, but did not swat it away. Instead he met the tealblood's gaze, expression contemptuous. Then he clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Tch.” His eyes darted back to the daywalkers. He gave no nod in return, but it was as close to agreement as he would get. As Ganyma ploughed ahead to the bog's shore, Kursha followed several paces behind, picking off any of the shadowdroppers that came to close. Bang! One dropped with a shot to the head. Bang! Another. Bang! Then a third, with a hole in its throat. Kursha winced. The recoil of the rifle bit into his shoulder. Blood smeared over the stock. Clenching his teeth, he lined up a fourth shot. The daywalker came into focus, shambling through the water towards Ganyma. Its head came within his crosshairs. Exhaling, Kursha pulled the trigger... and flinched. The bullet flew somewhere off into the trees. There he lost track of it. s**t. No problem. Try again. One eye closed, he focused in on his target. Nice and steady... His finger squeezed the trigger. Nothing. “s**t!” Frantic, he reached into his breast pocket for ammunition. All the while, the daywalker staggered closer. All around them, they closed in. “Ganyma! On your right!”
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Posted: Sun Sep 11, 2016 3:15 pm
There was a lag in Kursha’s series of shots. A walker with features so receded Ganyma could piece together its skull under the thin covering of membranous skin stalked quickly towards him, and he laid it out quickly. Snatching wiry hair in one hand and thrusting a push dagger with the other, the spine severed messily under Ganyma’s grip. He whipped back to Kursha, eyes wide, movement as fluid as they could be in the invading swamp. “Got it.” He turned to his right – uppercut. Sickening squelches emerged from the mutilated corpse as Ganyma drove his knived fists over and over into their weakpoints. He turned on a heel and backed up to Kursha – a particularly quick shambler reached out for the greenblood’s shoulder and was met with a piledriver filled with muscle and chitin. Ganyma’s back clenched. He felt the sharp scrapes of claws as armor responded in turn, pushing up and tearing at his shirt to join his armored shoulder. He was reacting instinctively now – a new form of defense beyond what he could have imagined. His previously injured arm’s plating had begun to chip and crack, the skin underneath looking thankfully healthy and shockingly unblemished. Ganyma would not look this gift-hoofbeast in the mouth. With new energy, he huffed through his nose and slammed a hardened fist into the chest cavity of the living corpse that had risen behind him, flattening it before planting a steel bootheel on its head. Dry land was ahead of them, but so were who knows how many shadowdroppers. “I’m putting you on my back. You shoot. I can take the hits.” Without another word, Ganyma hauled his temporary ally onto his shoulders. Thanks to his plating, the weight of the man hardly made a difference.
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2016 5:10 pm
Kursha slid the fresh cartridges into the chamber as quickly as he dared. As he did, his eyes darted up over the top of the gun to where the daywalker closed in on Ganyma. His pump biscuit pounded in his chest. Any concern he felt for the tealblood stemmed from the interest of survival. That was all. Yet somehow his finger still managed to slip when Ganyma delivered a brutal uppercut that resounded with a crunch. He caught the cartridge just before it splashed into the swamp. Internally cursing, he returned his attention to his gun. Focus, he chided. He loaded the last of the cartridges into the chamber, and then set it back in the barrel with a snap. A half-vocalised hiss sounded beside him. His thumb swept across the safety. The stock of the rifle met his shoulder, and he looked up just in time to see the pitted face of a walker. Then a pair of arms squeezed around it, and drove it head first into the bog. Ganyma. Kursha bit back a retort. Turning away, he fired off a fresh round as the tealblood punched a window in the chest of another shadowdropper. Both corpses dropped. Suddenly, he heard Ganyma speak. Kursha glanced back over his shoulder. “Huh?” he drawled, expression irate. What idiocy was...? He never finished the thought. The tealblood lifted Kursha off his feet. “Hey!” Kursha snapped. Uneasy, he settled on Ganyma's shoulders, one hand on his gun and the other on Ganyma's right horn. The chitinous armour encasing the tealblood's flesh left him unbalanced. He crossed his ankles across the tealblood's chest to better secure himself, all the while poignantly aware of the powerful mass beneath him. As Ganyma shifted on his feet, he could feel the ripple and pull of his muscles. The sensation left Kursha electric. Several bizarre scenarios flashed through his thinkpan, including riding the tealblood like a bull charging into battle, and... His bloodpusher beat a little too quickly. The momentary weakness filled him with fury. He propped his rifle up, his left forearm resting on the tealblood's horn. Face flushed, expression dark, and stomach clenched, he set his sights on a target. “You got it, partner,” he murmured, as he zeroed in and his pupils turned to cross-hairs. His legs squeezed a little tighter to brace for the buck of the shot. He pulled the trigger. A loud crack sounded over Ganyma's head and near the shore, a melted figure toppled. He fired off four more rounds with similar results, and began to reload. “You're clear, so get a move on!” he called out, scanning the edge of the forest.
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Posted: Mon Sep 12, 2016 11:43 pm
“Understood.” Ganyma responded. He shifted to accommodate Kursha on his shoulders and tested a firm step forward. So far, so good. The adrenaline and whatever was propelling him forward biologically was working wonders. Half-deafened from Kursha’s shots, Ganyma could hear the pulsing in his spongeclots and nothing else. It was practically a relief from the grotesque sounds emerging from the dark swamp. The troll lowered his head, keeping his sights on the path ahead and preparing for the worst. Quick as possible – out of the woods for the second time. This time against the dead, not the living. It would be a piece of cake compared to the hunting grounds. He padded forward, using Kursha’s eagle eyes as his own in his short bark of directions. The underbrush was thick and verdant, and Ganyma called out occasionally when he was about to vault over a fallen tree or stray stump in the jumbled woods. Suddenly, a pair of walkers sprung from the foliage like fiddleferns, lunging from either side of the pair with tangled gaits. Ganyma dispatched one swiftly, grasping it by the side of its caved-in skull and tugging it out of the way with such force that it crumpled before stuttering back to “life”. The other managed encroach on the tealblood, sinking its teeth into his armor. To no effect. Slowed down but otherwise unharmed, Ganyma released a few sharp jabs from his quick right first onto the creature and it too toppled to the ground. “Two targets prone,” he announced through gritted teeth. An invitation to open fire, though he was still hesitant to use the words in earshot of Kursha. More walkers began to materialize, many freshly risen with the power of the morning sun beginning to fog the Dark Swamp with steamy humidity. Ganyma was suddenly aware of his bloodpusher. He took a steady breath, breaking from his jogging pace, and braced his arms against Kursha’s legs. “Hold on tight; use my horns if you need to.” Ganyma warned. He took off in a heavy sprint.
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