#char: team cockroach | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noonmutter · 3 years ago

Text

Hellraisers Pt. 3.5: Hell in Heaven (cont)

DWC August 2022 Day 5: Fluff/Shiver

Cay sighed, a fizzle of crackling purple energy rolling from their head to their feet. "I'll- I'll tank then. T-try for the boxes."

Speaking with a voice that seemed sourceless, an invisible Ansul said simply, "On it, boss." As the rogue began to move away, a flare fired into the glittering sky overhead, and a few seconds later, a dull thoonk from the same spot as the gunshot sent a small, ominous cylinder hurtling toward the wildseed. Thankfully, it wasn’t incendiary, but the resulting explosion coated everything it touched in clinging dust of an unpleasantly bright greenish tint.

Unable to do anything about the dust and sure that Ansul wasn’t hurt, Cay focused on the more immediate threat. They inhaled and let out a silent, deafening scream, hoping to scatter the worgen or draw all their attention.

They succeeded in making sure all five of the frothing worgen advancing on their position were focused entirely on them and not remotely interested in the crystal behind them. Unfortunately, they were suddenly and sharply reminded of how terrifying it was to have five frothing worgen focused entirely on them and heading toward them. For just a second, all Cay could do was whimper.

As much as Caythaes believed themself to be a bit of a cockroach, they hadn't actually ever fought more than one person at a time before, but it was too late to do anything besides deal with it. They picked one of the worgen from the center of the pack and lifted their hands, red anima gathering at their fists and around the beast's head.

Tactically speaking, Ansul knew it was the wrong choice not to pursue the sniper. But for all that he didn't care about the controlled worgen, he couldn’t leave someone in a robe to be swarmed. Swearing under his breath, he reappeared in dulled Alliance blue and grey armor above one of the worgen. As he fell onto the beast, he sank a pair of stiletto-style knives into its neck as casually as one might box its ears. Worgen didn't typically yowl that way; it was more of a cat thing to do–particularly a cat who'd been set on fire–but sudden knives in the neck had a way of changing the status quo. As Ansul's worgen collapsed in a thrashing heap, a second one turned to tackle him off its comrade with a vicious snarl.

As their spell took hold of their chosen attacker and it slowed its own charge, Cay shouted, “No! Attack the BOXES!”

"They are trying to kill us!" Unable to disappear again thanks to whatever was in that dusty green shit, Ansul fell back on dodging and backpedaling while he pulled something from a pouch at his belt.

Cay's chosen target, now firmly under their control, had time to stop running and wind back for a swing at one of its two remaining fellows before its collar erupted in crackling blue. An electric surge brought it to its knees, howling in pain. The other two paused at the sight, and their collars likewise crackled to life until they made their final pounce at the caster.

As they watched their would-be minion fry, Cay breathed, "Shock collars..." and then threw up a shield before they could be bowled over. The attacking pair crashed into the shield and scrabbled at it with long, dull claws and sharp, yellow fangs screeching and gnashing uncomfortably close to their face, but thankfully, it held.

They focused their attention on the collars, throwing out a volley of fireballs in the hopes that one would score a hit and break them. The impact sent the worgen flying backward, and they seemed inclined to stay where they landed before their collars jolted them back to their feet to try again. The controlled one on the ground had no chance to dodge the flames, and while it was also very unhappy from the impact, the collar did end up charred and fizzling around its neck, apparently ruined.

Taking advantage of the mayhem, the last furry assailant finally drew first blood for Team Furball when it lunged forward to swipe both sets of claws across the rogue's abdomen. It wasn’t quite the disembowelment the beast had been hoping for, but it was certainly a start, and it stung like a bitch regardless. Ansul dropped and rolled backward with the hit, coming back up on his feet and launching himself into a tackle against his assailant. There were no knives in his hand, just a small jamming device he slapped onto the worgen's collar as they tumbled across the grass. For a second, it seemed like Ansul’s gadget successfully shut down the collar before it crackled to angry life and gave them both a good hard jolt before they separated.

Utterly terrified by the sheer amount of snarling worgen in their face, Caythaes swallowed thickly before shouting, "Hanged man! Th-they're being controlled!" and throwing out a hand. Golden bolts flew forth, and one struck true, leaving one more worgen reorienting itself without a collar motivating it. That done, Cay’s attention shifted, throwing another shield around Ansul while reinforcing their own.

Almost like a reminder that it was there, another gunshot rang out from the trees, and Cay's new shield shattered like spun sugar practically the instant they put it up. The last worgen standing by Cay saw the opportunity it was given and clamped its teeth down on the elf’s fleshy arm to give it the worst kind of nomming imaginable. Dark magic wreathed Caythaes's arm, significantly dampening the amount of pain they felt, but it still staggered and frightened them. They let out a soft whimper before pulling their prosthetic hand back and aiming a punch at the worgen's face.

Hot off the heels of a profoundly uncomfortable equipment failure he’d barely managed to save himself from thanks entirely to Cay’s shield, Ansul hollered and swore up a storm. He didn’t have time to examine that failure right then; instead, he pulled another of those devices and a dagger as he charged toward Cay and their bitey little friend.

Bitey paid for that brief victory, first with a punch from a mechanical fist right to its delicate snoot and then to a dagger and a thing on its neck that made the collar go zap and--... then the zapping stopped, and oh yay! But then there was the matter of that dagger... The worgen didn't want to be stabbed, no matter what was going on, so it made a desperate grab for the knife. Ansul let the knife go and skittered back; he had more and could replace them if they went missing. "No more biting means no more stabbing!"

Caythaes dropped onto their rump with a soft grunt, chin wibbling as they steadied their breathing. For the moment, they trusted Ansul to deal with the worgen, and they closed their eyes, searching for the sniper's mind.

The worgen flung its newfound knife into the woods now that it was no longer being stabbed, then sat down to lick its palm. The other worgen (that weren't slaughtered) had lost whatever will they had to fight now that their collars were not creating an external source of it...

...and the giant, furry hand holding the remote control for that source irritably crushed it as Cay focused through his eyes. They could see him pick up an impressive, heavy rifle and step toward what seemed to be a handmade mortar tube, picking up a belt of very standard-looking explosive grenades. They heard a low, sneering growl practically curl into a purr of "Gotcha" before their connection to the gunman fizzled out.

"Ooookay," Caythaes murmured, their fingers drumming on the ground as they took a mental inventory of what was on them. A pistol probably wouldn't be enough, given the size of that rifle, and maybe their shields would hold up against an explosion, but they didn’t want to risk it. Scrambling to their feet, Caythaes ran to Ansul and made a grab for his bicep. "We- we need to get away? I- I don't know if he's going to aim for us, or Shedwyn, but- but I don't want him hitting both."

Ansul looked at Cay like they were bonkers for a moment, but he had a very good idea of where the sniper was because he saw him just before this all started. After half a second to orient himself and say, "Okay, go!" he took off in that direction, zig-zagging because sniper and stupid fucking green dust.

Just as Ansul broke away, Cay noticed an odd shimmering along the tree line that they recognized but couldn’t quite place. It clicked into place at the same time the sound of a rifle cocking reached their ears from about ten feet behind them. The same voice cheerfully piped up, "Wotcher, knife-ear? Li'l off th' top?"

The cock of the rifle had Cay staggering to a halt almost before they started running. They sighed, taking a moment to collect themself before whirling around and throwing out their hands. A pillar of fire burst to life over the gunman's head and dropped down towards him. Even in a heavy, oiled duster and covered in a nigh-Liefeldian number of pouches, pockets, and bandoliers, the decidedly unferal worgen moved fast, tucking and rolling as soon as he saw the elf's hands move.

Once again swearing a blue streak (they really shouldn't let him out of his office with that kind of potty mouth), Ansul slid to a stop and sprinted back toward Cay. Throwing knives out in one hand and the pistol based on Terry’s Babygirl in the other, he unloaded all his shots as soon as he thought he was remotely in range.

The gunman was a guy with survival instincts and obvious training, though there was only so much he could dodge with almost no cover before he ran out of luck. One of the bullets ripped across the duster, grazing his back and making him swear before he took a couple potshots toward the pair to keep them from volleying more. "Tha' slag can't be tha' bloody important t' you!"

As the gun went off, Caythaes reflexively raised their hands, creating a wall-shaped magic barrier in front of them and Ansul. The rogue barely pulled up short of face-planting against it.

Cay shrugged. "I- I feel like at this point, it's- it's a bit more self-defense, really. I- I have no idea what's going on."

Ansul almost didn’t respond at all but came up with, “Just don't like racists," as he moved to put himself between the iceblocked wildseed and the gunman. His pistol was empty, but he still kept it pointed at the worgen.

"Good! Then I'll get rid o' that'un for you an' we'll both get what we want, an' I won't 'ave t' kill you both. Ev'ryone wins!"

"I-I think M-Miss Shedwyn and Terry's children lose," Caythaes mutters to themself, their ears tipping back.

The gunman poked his head out, just barely, from behind the rock he'd chosen for the moment, jerking his thumb at the crystal. "Lotta people want 'im dead an' I bet you know 'ow much 'e deserves it."

With a shake of their head, Cay raised their voice and said, "Actually, I don't! So, um- as far as I'm concerned, y-you just started attacking for no reason!" They paused, flicking a hand towards Ansul, imbuing him with haste. "A-anyway, y-you called me knife-ears, so. Y-you've been more racist to me than Terry." They wondered if they could keep him monologuing long enough for Terry to hatch.

"Wh- hey, I- ..." Ansul looked away like he was running some calculations in his head, "Actually nah, I just wanna shoot him myself!" He didn’t use that speed boost to make a beeline for the guy, but rather for another spot of cover safely away from Cay, the gunman, and the hunk of crystal containing the wildseed.

The latter of which was starting to glow blue.

The gunman was annoyed and done talking once he heard running that was much too fast for his liking. Instead of opening fire, he lobbed a grenade out after Ansul. When Caythaes saw it, they released a tired sigh and dropped the barrier, switching back to a personal bubble. There was some relief when they managed to catch the remnants of a void-based, directional teleport after the explosive went off. It was accompanied by the flailing of someone trying to hide their glowing greenness behind the cover they managed to reach.

They squeaked and ducked their head reflexively as the gunman took aim to fire at the stammering elf that was still too close to his actual target. The shot pinged off the shield, so Cay took off running right at Mister Shooty McShooterson. They pulled back their left sleeve and popped a panel on their prosthetic, pulling out a small pistol. They didn't take the time to aim, just providing cover fire.

Cay's pot-shots did save them from being hit by the gunman’s retaliation, but not from the absolute whoopin’ of a furry wall slamming into their much smaller frame. They didn’t know how else to handle a full-on tackle, hitting the ground flat on their back and gasping for air. The best they could do was roll out of the way before the worgen gunman trampled them.

Blue light began to swirl inward and around Shedwyn within the crystal, taking on green tones, then gold tones as it became downright painful to look at. Fortunately, the only one trying to look at it was the gunman, who solved his problem by looking down at his rifle to reload it as fast as he could. The protective rock cooked off in a final, brilliant flash of light, dissipating back into motes of arcane energy and hanging in the air around Shedwyn’s floating body. The wildseed it had been protecting alongside the wee mage had practically burst open, not unlike a popcorn kernel, from the top.

Shedwyn raised her head, looked directly at the gunman, and growled, "YOU," with a darkly satisfied sense of recognition that reverberated through the trees. She wasn’t expecting the worgen to snarl the same word right back at her in response, though he was furious rather than pleased. Staring up at her in nearly frothing hate, he planted his feet, took aim, and fired straight at her face.

The motes around her snapped into a wall of spinning 2-dimensional shapes, like glowing shards of glass. She stared at the bullet as a few shards enveloped it, then reached for it. The rest turned 90 degrees and launched at the gunman almost as an afterthought.

As soon as Caythaes realized the gunman was ignoring them, they rolled to their knees and clawed at the air, summoning red anima to their hands once again. It swirled around the worgen's head, trying to take control of him long enough that one shot was all he got.

A low, ominous growl rumbled up from within the burst wildseed. With a final flash of green light and the briefest glimpse of Eonar's smirking visage in the air above it, a black-and-tan worgen erupted from the pod, entire body aglow in golden circuitry underneath his thick, bristly fur.

Terry reached up with one massive hand to grab Shedwyn by the ankle, snarled "Mine!" and threw her, shield and all, straight at their enemy.

Shedwyn was a tad more in practice with this particular move than the last time she was around Terry's worgen form–It turned out Kyrian could be pretty disrespectful once you gave them the idea and permission. Still, the joy that lit her face at the sound of his horrible voice became panic, and she yelped, "No, not-!"

The gunman was too busy shielding his face with his duster and trying to stave off the intrusion of another mind to see the freight train coming, but he could hear it. This, unfortunately, meant only that he was aware of how fucked he was in the couple of seconds he had before Dwyn crashed into him like a tiny missile.

Caythaes had been concentrating with all their might on keeping the gunman distracted. So, when Terry weaponized his wife, they weren't paying any attention, and the impact of wife on wolf caught them off guard, making them yelp and scramble to their feet as the worgen skidded towards them.

Shedwyn curled nearly fetal as she slammed down into the gunman, so she wasn’t too stunned to immediately pull her shield shards back in and backhand him across the nose with all the strength her rage could bring to bear. Smacking a dog with a rolled-up newspaper got the same sort of yelping noise that being straight-up bitchslapped did. She wasn’t weak, but he was a furry tank, and the noise was mainly because he wasn’t expecting her to slap him, of all things. A slap was something he could recover from, though it took a lot more effort when she kept fucking slapping him.

Eventually, he managed to wriggle his rifle up between them enough to shove hard and get the screaming little banshee the fuck off of him.

And so arrives Terry, given ample time to crawl the rest of the way out of his cocoon…seed…thing…and shake out the cobwebs. His lip curled back to reveal every single crooked nightmare tooth, and he stomped steadily faster toward Dwyn and the gunman with nothing but murder in them glowing golden eyes.

He wasn’t fifteen feet tall like in Revendreth anymore, and he wasn’t controlling six armored minions. But a nine-foot-tall worgen empowered by a Titan and full of pent-up aggression was more than enough.

Ansul, finally recovered from his close brush with a grenade, staggered out of cover and took in the entire messy scuffle. Nope. He then decided to stagger over to the nearest feral worgen that he didn’t know was feral. "Hey. Sup? We cool?"

Caythaes took one look at what was about to happen, then watched Ansul stumble out of the bush and decided, "Mmm, yeah, Miss Shedwyn's got this." They likewise staggered over to Ansul, eyeing his chosen worgen before saying, "Ah, good, you're in one piece. Uh. As- if he doesn't bite, I need you to catch me."

The feral stared at Ansul like he had seven heads for a minute, made a confused 'baroo?' sort of sound, then finally scrabbled to its feet and ran like hell into the trees. The others took this as their cue and followed. They would be very confused when they couldn’t figure out where Darkshire was.

Ansul shrugged, bringing up a lighter to a cigarette. Caythaes watched the beast run for a bit, hummed, nodded, then said, "Falling now," and swooned. Ansul leaped to catch Cay without dropping lighter or cigarette.

Shedwyn reeled back as she was levered away. Looking up at the stomping, she immediately realized that it was Terry, but it was not her husband. She glanced toward Cay and Ansul and, frustrated, grabbed the gunman by a finger and shrieked, "I said NOT NOW!" With a faint blong noise, both of them were contained in a sphere of energy that was just slightly too small for them. The gunman, unable to easily move and not a complete idiot, silently thanked his lucky stars he was inside the sphere and didn’t fight anymore.

Might’ve also peed a little.

Terry rammed into the sphere with a very frustrated "NOOOoooo" that practically screamed petulant four-year-old and suggested Dwyn had denied him things this way many, many times. Clawing and scrabbling at the sphere ineffectually, he was just an angry dog instead of a psychopath just looking for something to devour like the first encounter in Revendreth.

He was also completely unprepared for a full-grown, bellowing bull moose to come storming up the path and barrel into him at full speed. The glowing worgen went tumbling, briefly stunned but thankfully not gored. After he got to his feet and saw what hit him, his ears pinned back, and he thought about it. Even a nearly-feral giant of a worgen understood the implicit threat of a moose. Especially Terry’s own well-trained, extremely loyal moose.

The glowing worgen finished doing math and, with the signature sounds of bones snapping and organs squishing, decided he was done too, leaving a very wobbly, glowing, naked man standing there in his place.

"DWYN! DO I NEED T' KILL ANYBODY OR ARE THIN'S IN 'AND NOW?!" echoed across the grove after silence fell.

Ah. Leon. That explained where Toffee came from.

The sphere split just a little so Shedwyn could answer, "NEED HEALING, MANACLES, AND CLOTHES, PLEASE."

The shouting snapped Cay out of their swoon, and they came to first by tensing, then by letting out a groan that said they really wished they hadn't woken up and going limp in Ansul's arms. Dwyn's call for healing made them groan even harder.

"Noooooo," they whine, twisting as if they were going to try and roll to the ground. "I don't wanna yet.... need juice and a nap."

Hearing whining settled Leon's nerves some; whining wasn't screaming or wailing, so there wasn't necessarily an emergency. That meant it was safe to come up the rest of the way with the rest of his so-called cavalry: Lucien and Praecormu. "Well, if you can't, th' boy could use th' practice..."

Terry, for his part, went back to the wildseed and sat down before the kids saw his junk.

"No, I can," Caythaes sighed, holding up their mauled arm. "But-but probably I should have- have someone else heal me first." After a pause, they added, "And after some juice. Or tea. Is- is the teapot still upright?"

With a little frown of concentration that made him look exactly like his mother, Lucien bore down on Cay and Ansul, hands out.

A bit gravelly, which made sense since he hadn’t had occasion to speak much in the last few years, Terry answered, "Teapot fell in. S'not cracked, though."

"Oooh, tea~" Caythaes cooed, sounding a bit (or perhaps a lot) like Theotar at the moment. Someone was tired and woozy. They started to extract themself from Ansul but decided to behave for Lucien. "Um. Y-you can- yeah, just- I can sit."

Lucien’s head whipped around at the sound of Terry’s voice, and he hesitated. The little troll boy accompanying him–presumably Praecormu–placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him gently toward Cay, then split off and moved toward Terry. As soon as he came within reach, Terry eagerly scooped the boy up–troll or not–to hug him. There were too many people around, so Prae didn’t say anything that might embarrass Terry, just folding himself up against him.

Lucien nodded his thanks to Cay for being a decent patient, and after a quick once-over to assess, he placed his hands on either side of that crazy bite wound on their arm. "What did this?" He didn’t wait for a response before the sweet relief of holy magic started pouring into their arm.

Caythaes had had enough uncooperative patients that they were not going to inflict that on a novice. Plus, the pain in their arm was extraordinarily distracting, and the feeling of the holy magic was a relief. "Worgen bite. Not your father! A- another one that's uh. Probably very confused right now. Anyway-"

They paused as a thought occurred to them, scowling down at the bitemark. "Oh. Uh. Sh-should I worry about acquiring the affliction? I- I don't know how well that's going to, uh. Mix? With the whole, um... phoenix thing."

Lucien closed his eyes and concentrated. "Terry's bites are far messier than this. And the curse is largely broken, so it can no longer be transmitted. I was very worried about that when I first found out about him!"

Half-wearing his armor and carrying the rest over his shoulder, Leon brought up the rear, going to Shedwyn and the gunman to investigate them. "Luv...are you aware yer bleedin'?"

Dwyn glowered up at Leon from basically the gunman’s lap. "I was shot, but Eonar healed me." Leon was a touch skeptical since he could see flesh through that exit wound in her chest, not just skin. Before he had a chance to question her, she went a bit cross-eyed, leaned toward the sphere's edge, and the bubble popped as she passed out. Leon sighed a little bit, leaning down to carefully pick Dwyn up. He looked down at the glaring gunman, said only, "Stay put," then whistled softly at Toffee. Though the moose desperately wanted to go to his poppa, Toffee also recognized a threat when he saw one, so he trotted over and sat down on the gunman's chest. Leon heard a few bones crack, but for some odd reason, he couldn’t find any sympathy to spare for him and walked away.

The gunman, if he'd been planning to do any talking, was briefly very, very loud as a moose sat on him and then very, very quiet. He was definitely not dead, but he was now nursing a broken rib or two and disinclined toward further upsetting the moose.

Terry was utterly unconcerned with anything but the little boy in his arms. After a minute, though, he dragged himself to sit up again and stare out at Cay. "...I know you?"

Caythaes looked over at him and flashed a smile. "Nope! I'm, um- I'm with Leon. I'm helping!"

Leon approached the wildseed, looking down at his brother and Praecormu for a minute. He leaned down, thumped his forehead gently on Terry's, muttered something only Terry and Prae could hear, then dropped a pair of pants and a tatty linen shirt on his big brother's head. Terry didn’t even care that he was crying a little bit; he just put the frickin' clothes on.

Caythaes looked at the moose with a concerned expression, then decided they didn't care enough and returned their attention to Lucien. "Th-thank you for the healing. I- I can take care of Mister Ansul and Miss Shedwyn, if- if you want to go hug your father."

Leon padded up alongside Lucien and touched the boy's shoulder, "It's fine. I've got 'em now, hey?"

Lucien was, for several moments, torn between his duty as a healer (which he was trying to take very seriously!) and the offer. But y'know what, he hadn't seen his papa since his little brothers were born. So with a quick bow, he excused himself and went to tackle Terry and Praecormu.

Caythaes smiled softly as Lucien took off, humming a warm note before they got to their feet and followed him over. "I still want that tea!" They chirped, ignoring Terry as they grabbed the pot from the seed and found a cup from the ground. Terry, in turn, ignored Cay in favor of his eldest son throwing himself bodily toward him, hugging the kid while muttering an awful lot of Thalassian comforts to him. "Kept my promise" was easy to catch before Cay left with the teapot.

After pouring themself a cup and taking a sip, they hummed happily and returned to Leon. "So! Th-that could have gone worse. How are you?"

Leon leaned back on his hands once they settled. "Briefly terrified, but all thin's considered, seems I missed all th' fun... yer all right, then?"

"Th-the bite was the worst of it. M-Mister Ansul had- had a grenade thrown at him, but- but given that he's up and about, he- I presume he dodged it well enough."

Ansul grunted and continued to not mention the pounding headache and throbbing pain all along his back and belly. Finally, he lit his damn cigarette and went for a walk. He could get his own round of healing later.

Cay sipped their tea as they sat down and leaned heavily against Leon's side, their eye closing briefly. "T-tired now, mostly. A- a lot is catching up with me."

He cradled Cay's head a little bit, patting their cheek and watching the others with a faint smile on his face. "This's rather a lot more'n I ever intended t' ask o' you. Thank you."

"Mmm, b-but you know me," Caythaes murmured, melting even more against Leon as they reached up to give his hand a squeeze. "I- I'm always ready to help. And- and I was here, anyway. Wh-what was I supposed to do? L-let Terry be murdered after- after all I did to put him back together? Nope."

"Tch. Spoken like a Meddler, luv." Leon huffed a soft chuckle, rubbing Cay's hand with his thumb. "'Ope yer ready t' find out wha' it feels like t' 'ave a debt this big repaid."

(YES THE REST IS COMING THIS ONE TOOK THREE DAYS TO EDIT I JUST HAVE RAID NOW )

( @daily-writing-challenge @mekandawn @shedwyn )

#modified chatlog #rp stuff #and so arrives terry #the light in lordaeron #caythaes #shedwyn #dwc

3 notes · View notes

imx-doomer · 7 years ago

Text

HERE'S HOW TO FIX THE FINAL SEGMENT OF WOLFENSTEIN II: THE NEW COLOSSUS:

(I talked about this previously in a post of mine, but back then it was just a single sentence. This is a (much) more fleshed out post about that subject.)

(This is a semi-long post, but it won't be hindered behind a Read More because of reasons).

(Click here for full image)

Okay so, we all know by now that the way Engel died at the hands of B.J. Blazkowicz sucked major cow ass. Not only compared to the previous game of the franchise (The New Order), but also compared to other games of the franchise and many other similar games of the genre.

I am willing to admit that I'm not that much of a fan of Wolfenstein as I'm a fan of DOOM (as you can definitely perceive by my username and the name of this blog), but as far as my knowledge about the franchise goes, I believe The New Colossus was the very first game of the franchise ever since the original game from 1991 to not have a proper final boss fight.

Actually, let me double-check before continuing any further...

Okay, I'm done.

Now, let me list all the Wolfenstein games so far with their respective final bosses:

Wolfenstein 3D - General Fettgesicht Spear of Destiny - Angel of Death (a literal demon from Hell) Wolfenstein 3D: Original Encounter - Hitler (this was more of a compilation/rearrangement of the original game) Return to Castle Wolfenstein - Heinrich I Wolfenstein: Enemy Territory - A multiplayer game, originally intended to be an expansion pack of RtCW Return to Castle Wolfenstein: Tides of War & Operation Resurrection - Console ports of RtCW Wolfenstein (2009) - Hans Grosse Wolfenstein RPG - Cyberd --- I mean, Harbinger of Doom Wolfenstein 3D Classic (iOS) - A port of the classic Wolf3D game Wolfenstein: The New Order - General Wilhelm "Deathshead" Strasse (MechaDeathshead) Wolfenstein: The Old Blood - The Monstrosity (literally a freaking golem) Wolfenstein II: The New Colossus - Frau Engel

So...yep.

Ignoring the console/mobile ports and the multiplayer-only game, The New Colossus is indeed the first game of the franchise where you don't engage in a final boss fight of sorts.

And no, no matter how hard you pretend and try to say otherwise, the fight with the Zerstörer(s) does not count as a "final" boss fight.

"But it happens near the end of the game!". You know damn well what I'm talking about.

Are people afraid of boss fights now , or what?

Are people afraid of the challenge of a final boss fight?

Do you realize Wolfenstein is a first-person shooter game, right? And not only that: along with DOOM, Wolfenstein established the damn genre. Boss fights in FPS games are a must, and final boss fights are more than welcome.

So what the hell happened with The New Colossus? What made MachineGames go "nah, you don't need a legendary encounter against Engel to remember"?

I can't answer that question myself, but with this situation in mind, this is my small suggestion/proposal about how the final segment of the game could've (or should've) went:

The game tries to sell us the idea that Engel is a sadist, much like Deathshead was. I mean, of course it's a given considering that she's a damn nazi, but you get the idea. She treats her own daughter like shit, and she might as well won't give a damn about anyone else other than herself.

Now let's look back at how they initially planned the infiltration and assault to the Ausmerzer (the big ass flying nazi fortress) and how they planned the attack against her life.

- First they deactivated the system that enabled the nazis to locate and terminate any group of people trying to revolt. - Then they traveled to Los Angeles, California to the Jimmy Carver Show where she was invited.

Here’s when things change.

Once inside the studio, they attempt to kill Engel, but oh surprise! She manages to escape, not before she gets her forearm chopped by Blazkowicz. She manages to reach the rooftop of the building, and with her surviving hand, pulls a remote control and presses a button.

The Ausmerzer then proceeds to activate the BRÜNNHILDE protocol, a well hidden and fully autonomous defense system that only Engel knew of its existence, and drops a gigantic metallic box from the very inside of the Ausmerzer to the rooftop, almost causing the building to fall down.

Blazkowicz barely manages to stretch himself to the top, where the final fight will take place. It is then revealed that inside that metallic box there was an upgraded mecha/power armor of the original mecha that Deathshead used to fight you a long time ago.

And on top of that, the motherfucker can actually lift off and fly effortlessly!

Engel is now inside a goddamn flying mecha. Eat fucking shit Deathshead, they appropriated your plans and improved your own invention.

Engel yells: "Die, allied schweinehund!", and the final boss fight begins.

There's a good bunch of ammo in the rooftop of the building where you start, but you'll definitely need more, that's why in order to continue you must jump from one building to another to collect more ammo and weapons to fight her. And she's not alone, a good bunch of nazi helicopters start showing up and they start attacking you too!

Once you progress, the game will tell you that Grace, Horton, Fergus/Wyatt and Anya will help you fight her and the remaining nazis. And here's the fun part: excluding Anya, there is a chance that either one or all of them will die during the fight. Depending on which one survives, the final cutscene will change accordingly.

Anya cannot die because dammit, Blazkowicz has suffered enough, and I won't have her die in The New Colossus after all the previous mid-game shitshow.

In the first face you manage to fuck up her flying system, but in the second face she will activate an emergency backup which consists of kangaroo-like jumps from building to building, hoping to crush you like a cockroach.

After an intense battle, you deal a severe, lethal damage to the mecha, and it starts exploding with Engel still inside! She yells in extreme agony, and you stop shooting entirely.

Tired, Blazkowicz falls on his back, and during a small “flashback”, he's seen in a beautiful green field filled with flowers while a grown up Billie (the African-American girl from the early days of Blazko) and B.J.’s mother Zofia (visibly old) approach him and extend their hand to him. Blazkowicz does the same, but then he realizes it's Anya herself which is actually the one helping him stand up.

"It's over", Anya says, while embracing him. "It's done".

"No. It's not over yet". Blazkowicz mutters, as Anya stops hugging him, not knowing what he's talking about. Then she turns her back and sees what Blazkowicz was seeing this time.

A fatally damaged Engel, barely trying to get outside the mecha, dragging herself out of it.

"I hate you, William Joseph Blazkowicz!", she screeches. Anya hands Blazkowicz a double barreled shotgun.

"Take this. It's a gift that I forgot to give you on your birthday", she says. Blazkowicz nods.

Cutscene ends, and you're brought back to land the finishing blow on Engel, but all out of a sudden, she pulls a grenade out of fucking nowhere, pulls the safe.

"Oh...you are so gull---ghhhhhkkk!"

A cutscene plays. And you can't help but watch a flash of light while Anya jumps on top of Blazko, trying to protect him.

He opens his eyes, but the first thing he sees is not the aftermath of a grenade blast, but Sigrun brandishing your hatchet in one hand, and Engel's lifeless head on the other, chopped from her charred body, with a visible blow in the middle of Engel's face.

A tape starts rolling back (just like the one from the infamous mid-game scene), and you're shown how Sigrun was waiting for her mother to attack, as she lands a perfect hatchet throw on her face, while the grenade starts flying near Blazkowicz and Anya.

"Nazi scum", Sigrun mutters. Then she starts crying.

Back to reality, Blazkowicz and Anya are astonished by the scene, and approach Sigrun to comfort her. The surviving members of the Resistance do the same, and help her get back up.

"A dud", Sigrun says. "A what?" "It was a dud. The grenade was a dud that she always had on her to scare me."

(If Grace survived, she'll look at Sigrun, and then she'll hug her in the verge of tears).

Blazkowicz turns his back, and looks at the dud. He grabs it, and throws it near Engel's remains.

And then as he turns his back again, it explodes.

The team can't help but chuckle and laugh, as they start leaving the rooftop. Then the final cutscene of the original ending where they look at the main camera of the Jimmy Carver show starts playing with all the surviving members of the final fight...

The End.

I mean, you might say that my idea sucks ass, and fighting a "MechaAntagonist" again is a cheap and rehashed idea from the previous game, but you must admit that it's waaay better than what we got, which is basically pressing a button to win.

That was genuinely some God of War bullshit.

My decision of having Sigrun land the final blow on her own mother is to serve as the climax of her complete turnaround from her roots as a daughter of a nazi general to an ally of the Resistance, in all the proper goddamn sense of the word.

And also, rooftop fights will always rule no matter what. We need more rooftop fights in videogames dammit.

Thoughts? Comments? My inbox is open! As always, thanks for reading!

#gaming #wolfenstein #Wolfenstein II: The New Colossus #machinegames #bethesda #videogames #video games #offt #b.j. blazkowicz #anya oliwa #sigrun #grace walker #horton boone #irene engel #fergus reid #Probst Wyatt

33 notes · View notes

headfirstintothefallout-blog · 8 years ago

Text

Episode One

Enter; Headfirst, into the Fallout!

[An introductory episode setting the story for our sole survivor.]

There’s something to be said about the symphony of unbridled rage and fear that sprouts from within the soul as your stomach doubles over and knots itself, blood filling your ears with a cacophony of hissing static, throat clenching like a vice as your vision starts to become spotted. An onslaught of memories clamoring to be at the forefront of your mind as if they had missed their cue when the symphony started and were now trying to steal the limelight of the stage as you try in desperation to piece together each specific part of the events that had already unfolded, recording everything in detail to tell if you were blind to it all or if you could never have known, to begin with. Everything else seems to slow down to an insufferable pace, nearly taunting as the world snaps into sharper focus. Questions brandishing torches and burning down the curtains of the theater and setting your mind ablaze with shrieks of anguish and terror, demanding recompense by way of answers but fearing what they may hear as a result. Nails biting into the flesh of your palm, the body’s way of bringing the mind out of itself, the digging pain nearly a comfort; sending a rigid chill throughout your bloodstream and with it, an electricity that threatens to strike down any who stand before you. Copper on the tongue, a bitter taste that drags acknowledgment out of its preoccupied state, the rage has set into a growing crescendo through clenched teeth. I wish I could say I wasn’t familiar with this song, but truth be told, it was one I had sung many times in my life before. Even now, as my fists slammed against the glass of the cryo-chamber I had been encased in; staring towards the slumped over figure in the pod across from mine, I found the song tearing through me. A scream erupted from my throat but cracked half way through from lack of use, hot tears threatened to fall freely from my eyes but the anger welling inside pushed them back with reminders that there may be hope yet. The lid clicked and I scrambled against it, trying to speed up the process. Panic had me fumbling and as the lid lifted, I fell through and collapsed on the ground in a heap. The pain hardly registered with me, my body was too cold and my heart was beating wildly against my ribcage, urging me forward. My breaths came through in ragged intervals as my eyes flicked up towards Nate’s pod. Gods....please let him be okay. A violent cough sputtered its way out of my mouth and I hissed, clenching my eyes shut as I half crawled toward the pod. My shaking hands clambering for a button, a switch, something! There had to be something, some way to open up the damn pod...I bit my lip and slowly rose to my feet, slamming a fist against the controls. I gripped the edge of it, tears threatening once again as I dared to steal a glance at Nate. He hadn’t moved. Hope was dwindling like the dying remnants of a fire. Fire...memories flashed in my mind of a campfire, the smell of burning wood wafting upwards and with it, floating embers that illuminated the air within the trailing smoke. Nate’s wide grin and bright eyes as he laughed, the sound sparking a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the fire. “Oh come on, that can’t be your biggest fear. You, Miss headstrong soldier girl who isn’t even afraid to look death in the eye, are afraid of a gurgling, giggling, drooling, baby?” My cheeks flushed red and I cast my vision elsewhere, my hand resting on my swelling belly as a wry smirk tugged at the corner of my lips ever so slightly. “I’m not afraid of the kid, or even the idea of having a kid....it’s more like...I’m afraid I can’t be a good mother. You know? I’m afraid that I won’t be able to love him like I should or care for him like a mom should or....protect him.” Nate’s hand found my chin and lightly guided my face to meet his attention, his thumb rubbing my cheek gently as he stared at me with a soft smile. “You’re going to be a great mother. I know you are. You are going to love him because he is the embodiment of us, our love.” He shrugged playfully and dropped his hand, tilting his head up with a cocky grin. “I mean, you’ll probably freak out the first time he gets sick or falls over or something and we should probably get one of those Mr. Handy’s just so that you aren’t smothering the poor kid...but,” He paused and drew his full attention back to me, his smile faded and his eyes genuine. “He will be resilient because he has your blood too. And for those times when you freak out or worry that you’re doing something wrong, you’ll have me there. I can protect you from yourself, just like I always have and you’ll protect us from everything else....but no matter what, we will do it together, because we are a team. We are a family. Always.” A guttural sound escaped from inside me and I pounded my fist against the glass, hoping that maybe Nate would wake up and tell me that we were going to find who did this, that we were going to get Shaun back...together...that we were going to be a family again. He didn’t move. Tears started to fall but my mind refused to think about the what-ifs. I looked back at the controls, my eyes spotting a lever. I nearly tripped over myself as I pulled it, the sound of the Cryopod mechanics clicking their release drew out a breath I wasn’t aware I had been holding. “Come on....C'mon, c’mon, c’mon....don’t you be dead, damn it.” My words were barely even a whisper as the lid slowly rose. I rushed forward, a hand immediately going to Nate’s cheek as my vision blurred with more tears that I rapidly blinked away. “Nate? Nate, c’mon....don’t do this to me....don’t leave me here alone...Nate? Open your eyes, come on, open your eyes, I’m right here....I’m right here...please? Nate!” My voice shuddered and I shook him but he was limp with no signs of life. “No....no, no, no, no!” I was screaming, I didn’t care who heard me, I didn’t care if that man came back, in fact...I wished he would, I wished he would so that I could kill him myself for taking the only things I had left in the world. My hand slipped from Nate’s face and clenched on to the stiff fabric of the vault suit he wore. I couldn’t stop the grotesque shrieks that emanated from me as I sobbed into his neck, hoping beyond hope that he would rest a hand on the back of my head and smooth my hair comfortingly. But I knew better, I had seen people die before, I was in the war...I knew from the start that he was likely dead...but I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted so desperately to hear him laugh and call me silly because I was crying. But he wouldn’t, he wasn’t going to, he was never going to do that again...I knew that. And sobbing into his lifeless shell wasn’t going to change that. My hands loosened and I sluggishly stepped away from his body, tears still falling as I caught my breath. A gold glint caught my eye and drew my attention to his hand. His wedding ring... My throat clenched and nausea threatened to make a sudden appearance, my hand reached out to his without me realizing it and I slipped the ring from off his finger with some effort. I stared at it in the palm of my hand, remembering our wedding, the day I gave birth to Shaun, every date we went on before all that, the plans we made for Halloween, every breakdown I had that he consoled me through from PTSD and nightmares, the day that we came to the vault...the moment just as it was descending after passing all out neighbors who were shrieking and begging to be let into the vault....and then, the moment when the bomb fell. The wave that washed over us... Comforting Shaun before getting into the pod, smiling nervously at Nate, hoping that we’d somehow be able to make it through all this together... I clenched my hand into a fist around it held it close to my heart as I looked up at his lifeless corpse, “I'll find who did this. And I'll get Shaun back. I promise." Getting out of the vault proved to be a bit more of a task than getting into it, passing pods of long-dead neighbors and fighting off huge mutant cockroaches with a security baton and later, a 10mm pistol. There were moments where I was certain that I was going to start losing it, seeing skeletal remains of the workers and reading the logs on the terminals to try and gain some bearing...nothing quite made sense to me but it was clear that a lot of time had passed since we had first come here...that thought alone made me sick from unanswered questions and worry. Evidentally, we were never meant to live in the vault. We were meant to be part of some sick experiment. The reasoning was unclear but the thought alone made that song of anger start to hum in the back of my mind. I could find no trace of the man who killed Nate and took my son, I had no leads as I kept searching within the vault, somehow calm despite all that had happened. Having nowhere else to turn, I made my way out of the vault, securing a pip-boy off a lone skeleton near the entrance that I had come through, what felt like maybe a few minutes or even hours earlier. It seemed to come in handy as I used to open the entrance, given the unknown state of the world, I figured I should keep the pip-boy permanently, in order to at least record anything I found and keep track of things while I hunt down whoever did this. I found myself rubbing Nate’s ring in my pocket as the vault platform slowly rose and I braced myself for whatever waited on the surface above. My anger present but dwindling into a controlled fire inside me. It seemed like an eternity before I could finally see the surface again, the light was blinding and took me a few moments to adjust. Whatever I had been expecting, it could never have prepared me for what I saw. You never really think of the prospect of what the world will look like after a nuclear explosion. The trees, what were left of them, were charred or broken, their colorful leaves long since gone. The ground little more than a desert in comparison to what it used to be... and...Sanctuary. Houses lay in ruins or half collapsed into themselves, some proved to be still standing but as I looked out at it, a sick feeling twisted itself into my stomach. I couldn’t go back there, not yet...I couldn’t go back to my home and face all the reminders that I had somehow failed to keep my family safe. The odds of Shaun just being at the house were astronomical given that I saw him be carted off by some woman and that man...they had come into the vault on purpose sure, but if they were smart enough to kill Nate in order to take Shaun, surely they were smart enough to leave the area entirely. No, I needed answers...and I wasn’t sure where to look, but I wasn’t quite ready to go back there just yet. U didn’t need to put myself through more of that pain. I had to keep it together, keep going, I had to...do...something! Anything! Anything other than pour over my failures and lament in my sorrow, thereby getting nothing accomplished aside from the world’s most pathetic pity party. There was an odd static coming in from the pip-boy that now adorned my wrist. A signal.

For a moment, I half debated even trying to tune into the frequency, but curiosity got the better of me...I would need to know the state of the world I was left in and maybe, just maybe, if I looked around, helped some people, I’d get some answers....at the very least, it was better then sitting in the shell of a home that promised little more than more heartbreak. I would return to Sanctuary someday, but that day was not today.

To Be Continued [A note: the upcoming stories of our Sole Survivor; Kaeshara Crowe, will deviate from the main storyline for a series of episodes. It should be noted that I am basing this off of one of my playthroughs with one of my oc’s...In which I have the mods ‘Tales from the Commonwealth’ and ‘Wild Wastelands’ along with a few others but those two will alter the storyline for Miss Crowe quite a bit. Companions will also be featured in the episodes to come and as this one was more of an introductory, expect much more in-depth episodes that dive into emotions, thoughts, actions, etc. in the future]

#fallout 4 #oc #my oc #original #writing #commonwealth #fallout #kaeshara #crowe #kaeshara crowe

5 notes · View notes

shonikado · 8 years ago

Text

Warning: Contains "Shonikado Does Tabletop: Episode 6"

I waited all week for this, this was basically my experiment with doing D&D fights in a more engaging way (with mixed results, good feedback though)

First up, there's some stuff that the human barbarian went through that wasn't RP'd out, but instead I just sent the player the stuff that happened so we could get to the next session where another player would be joining in. Here's what that all was:

The barbarian and the frogs traveled onwards, reaching the mountain range between them and their destination. But a magic storm hit (those happen this time of year) and they took shelter in a cave to wait it out. She got bored waiting in the cave though and explored, and found a peaceful cult town full of blind cultists and bat-winged beholders. She didn't really care to find out what was going on, although the cultists were niced and offered her the opportunity to trade her standard eyesight for the ability to have a vague psychic sense of the whole continent. But standard eyesight is useful, so she declined

The storm passed and the party continued onwards, a day behind schedule, taking with them an old dwarf cultist who was meaning to go on a supply run later anyway. There was a tribe of orcs-and-miscellaneous that watched the group from afar but they didn't make any moves, they just scared the frogs a bit. But the mountains were left without issue, at which point the party ran into a giant who collects the toll to enter the city. They paid the toll, but the giant saw the merchant frog's amulet and was like "hey gimme that too" and it was reluctantly handed over. And then they went onwards

So then they arrived in the city, at which point the frogs and cultist departed and Ulyana went to the giant-hunters guild. There was a giant who seemed to be helping run the guild, which was confusing, and also he was a bit condescending. Anyway, Ulyana learned that the guild only accepts 100 members total and they're careful about who they pick, and the most convenient way to tell them "hey I'm a good pick" would be to win the Azure Tournament happening in a few days. So Ulyana was like "sure I'll go have fun fighting people to prove I can fight even more people" and went off.

OKAY SO THAT'S WHERE THE SESSION BEGINS

Started off introducing an elf monk, who used to be a sailor but got into boxing. He's very old. He wanted to enter the tournament so he was tasked to fight three little anima (my world's word for animated constructs, pretty much simple robots) and display his fighting prowess. He used flurry of blows or something to destroy them all in a single turn.

Later in the day, the barbarian applied, and smashed one with an axe and had her displacer beast destroy another, and then finally tore the last one apart. Which was maybe excessive but definitely displayed ability.

But since a lot of people had been applying to the tournament and they didn't want to overdo it on applicants, they were both asked if they'd be cool with partnering up, and ended up getting teamed up with each other. So a monk, a barbarian, and a displacer beast all show up to kick some butt

but first they were like "hey let's spar" which gave me an opportunity to do a silly joke regarding the arena I had prepared, and then I sat back and let two players basically drive things for me and get some character development going on. (The monk won because the barbarian forgot to rage and dodge and stuff at first and the monk is GOOD at damage-dealing.)

so at this point I introduced the system where they got double EXP for going into a fight without researching their opponents prior to the fight, the idea being "figure it out on the fly" is more challenging than "know what you're getting into". To start off, the monk went off to try and figure out who they'd be doing their tournament-entry-culling match against (there were too many applicants still so they were being pitted against each other to determine who the public-audience-getting fighters would be), and ended up finding a place where bets were being put on the fights. The person running the betting booth said it wouldn't be fair to divulge that sorta stuff to a fighter but offered to tell in exchange for a bit of gold. As it turns out, the monk is very cheap and immediately walked out of the roleplaying closet. (We went into the closet so the barbarian's player wouldn't know what went down.)

they needed 3 EXP blocks to reach level 4, 7 to reach level 5. Going in blind meant 2 blocks, going in prepared meant 1.

i gave them half a block for their spar since neither of them tried to actually kill the other

Anyway, having failed to research their opponents, they went in blind and encountered a bugbear who seemed dressed for much colder weather than was actually present, wielding a malicious-looking green longsword. The other creature was a new race they didn't learn the name of, that looked somewhere between a lobster, a cockroach, and a fish, with eight arms and totally decked out with weapons. The bugbear was super nice and said hi.

then they proceeded to curbstomp them both, meaning I never got to even show off the bugbear's special abilities and the other combatant just barely got to hint at what their moveset was

ALSO the bugbear looked at Ulyana weirdly but then decided it was probably nothing. That was before the fight. The bugbear was unconscious after the fight. So was the monk, which was fun!

Also, some extra stuff about the arena: there's some height-advantage parts of the arena, also you can only have as many potions as you have team members, also there's these clerics called the "angels" who are there to let you fight lethally because they prevent anyone from dying. The way it works is that they focus protective magic on people, and if they'd die, they instead go into a sort of near-dead state that it takes a few weeks to recover from. So they'd be out of the tournament, but not out of life in general.

anyway, the party won, the monk didn't die so he got to continue fighting (I basically explained the death rule to the barbarian in an effort to convince her to stabilize the monk since he made two death fails)

ANYWAY they went on to the next round, and the barbarian decided to investigate who the opponents were - she ended up interviewing drow twins who had been in the entry-to-actual-tournament fight against two dragonborns (the next opponents) and lost. They explained one was a paladin with healy stuff, and the other was a warlock with spooky spells. The barbarian nodded and half-understood and then left.

when they got to the arena the next day I introduced the fact that the grass in the arena has flowers planted in it to make mosaic ads, the first of which was "Rope! You Can Never Have Enough" which was a reference to a character I made for a campaign that never really happened, in which my char owned I think several miles worth of rope because we were given a lot of starting money and I didn't know what to spend it on.

anyway so the fight happened, the paladin proved to be ridiculously hard to kill, and also made it very hard to target the warlock because of two tiers of protective stuff going on. So the paladin got downed, then was revived by the warlock's potion, then the paladin was downed again and the warlock revived her with her own potion, and then she was downed a third time and the monk was very mad about the whole thing and curbstomped her face. Seeing defeat was already gonna happen, and not wanting her to get dead'd or himself to get curbstomped, the warlock surrendered and the party won.

also the warlock cast a spell that had a bunch of grabby tentacles that was supposed to do damage but when the drow twins were explaining it they were like "oh but it doesn't do damage it just grabs you" SO WHOOPS I FORGOT. WHOOPS. WHOOPS. I don't think it would have been more fun if it did do damage though, maybe just more frustrating

anyway the party was like yaaay we won and then they leveled up and it was too late to move on to the final 8 fighters (so 3 more fights, although the final fight is gonna be a bit weird) so the session was ended, more like paused but basically ended.

~DING~ SO WHAT WENT WRONG

missing happens a lot and it's frustrating for the players. Also I didn't really get to show off what made most of the fighters cool because they immediately got pummeled by the rush-and-deal-all-the-damage team.

My current ideas are this: since everyone begins at the same time, the first round of combat lacks any movement, and is just what you do IMMEDIATELY as the fight begins. This means my enemy characters can set up any fancy interesting fun fight-changing stuff that they've got (for instance, the warlock had a weird spell that would deal a lot of damage but required casting it/some prep time, and the paladin was gonna defend him while that happened, but then the party rushed up and immediately attacked so he was like "I'm getting out of here" which was not the best tactical decision maybe. There are things I could do differently.)

My second idea is that, if you miss, you can choose to automatically hit instead, but this invokes an opportunity attack. I don't know if the attack would happen before or after (so miss -> opportunity -> autohit, or miss -> autohit -> opportunity?) and this would just be a mechanic in the world. I think I'll consider it the "baiting" mechanic, like, you get the opponent to strike at you, giving you a chance to land your own hit.

Maybe I'll make it so the opponent can either opportunity attack, or take half damage. Maybe make it so that you can respond in one of the following ways: 1. Defensive. Take half damage. 2. Neutral. Opportunity attack, then take full damage. 3. Aggressive. Opportunity attack. Take half damage if you land the hit, get critted if you miss.

Both of these ideas are things that ANYBODY can use, player or enemy, making it fair but also making it easier for me to deliver on better experiences overall.

also I think I'm gonna inject a bit more roleplaying into the sessions. I was planning on skipping it to mostly experiment with combat, and it was mentioned this hurt things a bit - the fights were largely just "okay we're fighting these people now". I have ideas on how to make the fights more engaging on a narrative level (basically having the party MEET the other combatants, though learning what they can do is another story entirely and retains the EXP thing).

overall I think it was decent but I'm definitely glad it ended earlier than expected because that gives me time to refine what I have coming next.

1 note · View note