The Return of Adventure (IC, Closed to non-EHers)

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Character Name: Saint Alia Christina of Windhoek
Primary Skill: Charm
9+1=10 (I'd tell you how cool this was if I weren't busy fapping.) (+2 on charming sentient beings, -1 on intimidating)
Secondary Skill: Tentacles!
5-1=4 (Though you were once a master at tentacles, recent events have sapped your power and left you with only one sticking out of your back.)
Third Skill: Flying
7-1=6 (Again, YOU CAN FUCKING FLY)
Job: Goddess
Chosen Weapon: Rapier
10 (It's a good sword, but every three turns you go without wounding or killing someone and giving the sword blood, you lose -1 Charm while you still have the sword. Putting away the sword restores your power. +2 on attacking)
Chosen Armour: A sexy toga
2 (You don't have clothing. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but it does decrease your defence. (-1 on natural defence). )


Character Name: Sir Winthrop Eddleton the Younger
Primary Skill: Steampunk/clockwork mechanisms. He makes them, and runs them. They explode often.
8+1=9 (You are the renowned expert in your field, helped because most other people die very fast. You can build shit easily. +2 on that)
Secondary Skill: Whacking unpleasant creatures with his walking stick.
10-1=9 (+2 on hitting people with your stick)
Third Skill: Part-time corpse reanimationist ala the good doctor of Frankenstein lore.
3-1=2 (I fudged this because a necrophiliac Winthrop is funny. +2 on undead being able to charm you)
Job: God-Emperor of the Reanimated Desiccated Imperium of Makina-Golar, now on sabbatical to find inspiration for his creations.
Chosen Weapon: His Walking Stick nicknamed "Whacky" - heavy ironwood contraption with gold trim and a heavy iron hound's head at the tip, the crest of the Eddleton family. It also has genuine pump shotgun action, because booms occasionally come out of the end when Winthrop leans on it.
7 (THIS IS YOUR BOOMSTICK. +1 on shooting people with it)
Chosen Armour: A Silken Waistcoat over a strange exosuit that belches flames and smoke at random intervals and serves no apparent function.
10 (The exosuit gives you a +2 on defence. It is also permanently attached to your body and is sentient. Also, made of an undead corpse, so it can charm you. It calls itself Sally).

Character Name: Dame-Cardinal Willias Victoria Beatrice Lillia
Primary Skill: Healing
8+1=9 (Skilled healer. +2 on healing rolls)
Secondary Skill: Tentacle mastery
8-1=7 (Has a dozen tentacles to attack and 'attack' with. +1 on tentacle use)
Third Skill: Catholic conversions
10-1=9 (You are very good at finding new followers. +2 on converting)
Job: Knight of the Sovereign Order of the Cardinal-Knights (Cardinal Beatrice Lillia founded it)
Chosen Weapon: Fire longsword
8 (A longsword, on fucking fire. +1 on attacking, +1 on fire attacks)
Chosen Armour: Sexy kevlar knight armour
8 (+1 on seducing, +1 on defence)

Character Name: Barnaby Lamar
Primary Skill: Sex (1+1=2). (You are so repulsive at sex that it actually helps you. Nobody wants to fuck you at all. -2 on any rolls when people try to seduce you, -4 when you try to seduce others. If you do manage to fuck someone, they take a -1 to all later rolls for two turns due to trauma and regret).
Secondary Skill: Persuasion (8-1=7) (You're a normal person at this stuff. +1 to convincing people to do things).
Third Skill: Drinking (10-1=9) (You're extremely good at being drunk. When you're intoxicated, you get +2 to all rolls).
Chosen Weapon: His self-proclaimed wit and charm. (5) (OK, have fun without a real weapon).
Chosen Armour: Typical 18th century dress, with a black longcoat and powdered wig. (7) (+1 to convincing people to do things.)

Character Name: Professor Ian Duncan
Primary Skill: Drinking (2+1=3) (Being intoxicated makes him take -1 to all rolls).
Secondary Skill: Psychology (10-1=9) (He can accurately sum up everyone's current deposition almost to the point of mind reading. +2 on all psychology rolls).
Third Skill: Acting (8-1=7) (+1 on all acting rolls).
Chosen Weapon: Umbrella. (5) (This is an umbrella).
Chosen Armour: Being too pathetic to hurt. (8) (-2 on all damage attacks against him, because he frankly is not worth it).

Character Name: Benjamin Chang
Primary Skill: Crazy (10+1=11) (+1 on all rolls that hurt someone physically, emotionally, spirtually and so on.).
Secondary Skill: Evil Laugh (7-1=6) (+1 on scaring people when you laugh).
Third Skill: Dance (5-1=4) (You have feet and occasionally they do something like dancing).
Chosen Weapon: A total lack of human morality or sanity. (8) (+1 on all rolls that hurt someone physically, emotionally, spirtually and so on.)
Chosen Armour: Benjamin Chang can never die. (At least, that's what he thinks.) (10) (It is true. Ben Chang is immortal to everything. But he can still be severely, severely, severely injured.)

Character Name: Dame Yuzuki Kurayami
Primary Skill: Engineering machinery. Mostly dieselpunkish to a degree, though she can work with any level of technology. (9+1=10. +2 on all engineering rolls).
Secondary Skill: Transformation (7-1=6. +1 on all transformation rolls into a humanoid).
Third Skill: Magic bullets (1-1=0. +3 damage by all bullets that hit you.)
Chosen Weapon: Naginata (7. +1 on all damage done by this sword.)
Chosen Armour: Power samurai armor (8. +2 on defence.)

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Welcome to Windhoek.

Before the End, this city had been a small city in a godforsaken country called Namibia, a country that was so bad off that even South Africans went "we don't want you anymore, go away".

However, after the End, Windhoek began to rise up as a new civilisation and a centre of a developing world. Though all men died, the remaining women learned to reproduce asexually. A Pope and a Queen worked together to create a new, peaceful world.

Then The Others came and fucked shit up. First, those of Hentor converted and became intimate with the townsfolk, turning them to their own vicious cult. Winthrop, the Father of the Golems, left Namibia with his servants and went to other parts of the continent to practise his art.

More men began to enter this world from other universes, returning the gene to the universe. One hundred years passed and my brother and I discovered a new Avatar the world started picking itself back up. Windhoek became a thriving if hedonistic city, worshipping Alia as a sacred prophet of Hentor.

Winthrop's name was heard in whispers in Namibia, as the man had began to take over other places in Africa, his name feared and respected.

For now, however, there was a meeting for Alia and Beatrice in the Dean's office of Windhoek University. "Hello, Queen Alia." said Professor Duncan politely, the British man very obviously staring right at Alia's boobs. "My name is Professor Ian Duncan, though you knew that already. I was here to discuss whether we could potentially get a raise for the classes here...? I've called up legal representation for the University to help us represent our case. Mr. Lamar should be here shortly."

---

Meanwhile, elsewhere...

Sally caressed the body of its wearer, clearly getting Winthrop very pleased, when suddenly the creasing stopped. "A message for you." she whispered in his ear, a voice only he heard.

Suddenly, he heard a new voice speaking in his mind, the message redirected by Sally to him. "IS THIS WIN-THROP? WE ARE THE DAL-EKS. WE HAVE AN OFF-ER."

[Constaniana]

Grand Saint-Cardinal Beatrice Lillia rolled her eyes as the Dean stared at the bosom of her queen. She would have slapped him for such an act, but Duncan's overwhelming aura of patheticness convinced her such an expenditure of calories was utterly worthless. Instead she decided to comfort Saint Alia in her time of need as she struggled to endure a conversation with Duncan.

ACTION: Lovingly feel Saint Queen Alia up with tentacles for moral support.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Winthrop's name was heard in whispers in Namibia, as the man had began to take over other places in Africa, his name feared and respected.

For now, however, there was a meeting for Alia and Beatrice in the Dean's office of Windhoek University. "Hello, Queen Alia." said Professor Duncan politely, the British man very obviously staring right at Alia's boobs. "My name is Professor Ian Duncan, though you knew that already. I was here to discuss whether we could potentially get a raise for the classes here...? I've called up legal representation for the University to help us represent our case. Mr. Lamar should be here shortly."

Benjamin K. Chang, keytar expert and head of the local Klingon club, peered down at the proceedings from a grate in the Dean's office with great interest.

Not because Chang actually cared about Alia, or any human being for that matter. No, Chang was interested because he had noticed earlier this morning that Duncan had brought in a turkey sandwich for lunch. (Or, as Duncan called it, a "wicket".) If there was anything in this world that Chang truly loved, it was a turkey sandwich. If there was a second thing, it was stealing from Duncan. If there was a third, it was popular televisual actor Nathan Fillion. If there was a fourth, it was stealing turkey sandwiches from Duncan.

Not that Chang loved anything, if we're to be honest.

Getting to the sandwich was made problematic by the fact that, if there was anything in this world Duncan loved, it was beating the shit out of Chang. This meant Duncan had to be distracted, which would be great difficulty in a room with Alia in it. For a normal man, this meant patience and attempting at a later time. Luckily, Benjamin Chang can't define the word "patience". (Or "later".)

Chang picked up a canister of spray paint, stolen from a random student seven months ago. He pulled a rubber band around the nozzle and the body, before removing a screwdriver (stolen from the wood-ship) from his pocket.

"Get ready to get Chang-ed!" Chang proclaimed to no one. With that, he drove the screwdriver into the nozzle and pulled it loose, spraying a stream of spray paint out. The rubber band holding the nozzle open, Chang lobbed the canister out of the (gratuitously large) grate and at Duncan's head.

Action: Throw a canister of spray paint at Duncan.

[G-Tech Corporation]

Through the pane of sparkling diamond Winthrop stared, out at the empire forged of men of clay and ships of steel. Graceful spires of black metal stabbed the sky, their glistening obsidian rising from the sands of inner Rhodesia as an ancient forest once graced the slopes of the familial estate of the House of Eddleton; a blissful history left far behind. Through time and space he had walked, slain a moose with a drop-pod, slain fundamentalists with a moose, devoured the Nine Hells- it was a tale indeed, too long to tell here, for Winthrop's fucked up existence even he didn't know the entirety of.

What was once the dapper gentlemen was gone, replaced perhaps in eons past-or perhaps in ages yet to come- by a fearsome fusion of man and machine, of what some termed corpse-flesh, others brute machinery. To Winthrop it was merely himself, the evolved Dracula, the animator of the Monster that whelp Mary Shelly wrote about, the traveler to the Yuan Dynasty, the Man in the Iron Mask. His name was Winthrop, and he had a call. The great edifice that was the Lord of the Dissant Machine Empire turned from the stark vistas of NeuHar, and with a whizzing of gizmos and some belches of flame, in the cacophony of the voices of the slain and the pleasant gurgle of stolen organs, he opened a line.

His deep voice, full of the whirring of gears and seeming almost as if two other voices spoke with him, one a whisper, one a shriek of steam, echoed back through the link.

"I am Winthrop, Daleks. Speak, and I shall listen."

As Sally cooed softly in his ear and the static of the channel through space and time frittered on, the God-Emperor made his way to his workbench at the rear of the room. Daleks. Not a word he had heard before, but if they knew of him and he knew not of them, things could get dicey. A memoy, or perhaps a prophecy, a vision of the future past tugged at him, and Winthrop grinned. A bit of blood trickled from lips not his own as steel teeth glinted behind a sewn-together face.

Action: Construct coal-powered clockwork time anchor out of bits and bobs. Preferably one that emits flames when started and whistles on the hour when working. By coincidence, it might look exactly like the Antikythera Mechanism.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Grand Saint-Cardinal Beatrice Lillia rolled her eyes as the Dean stared at the bosom of her queen. She would have slapped him for such an act, but Duncan's overwhelming aura of patheticness convinced her such an expenditure of calories was utterly worthless. Instead she decided to comfort Saint Alia in her time of need as she struggled to endure a conversation with Duncan.

ACTION: Lovingly feel Saint Queen Alia up with tentacles for moral support.

Roll: 6+1=7. Alia is feeling quite pleased with you. (+1 on all charm/persuasion rolls on Alia for two turns).

Winthrop's name was heard in whispers in Namibia, as the man had began to take over other places in Africa, his name feared and respected.

For now, however, there was a meeting for Alia and Beatrice in the Dean's office of Windhoek University. "Hello, Queen Alia." said Professor Duncan politely, the British man very obviously staring right at Alia's boobs. "My name is Professor Ian Duncan, though you knew that already. I was here to discuss whether we could potentially get a raise for the classes here...? I've called up legal representation for the University to help us represent our case. Mr. Lamar should be here shortly."

Benjamin K. Chang, keytar expert and head of the local Klingon club, peered down at the proceedings from a grate in the Dean's office with great interest.

Not because Chang actually cared about Alia, or any human being for that matter. No, Chang was interested because he had noticed earlier this morning that Duncan had brought in a turkey sandwich for lunch. (Or, as Duncan called it, a "wicket".) If there was anything in this world that Chang truly loved, it was a turkey sandwich. If there was a second thing, it was stealing from Duncan. If there was a third, it was popular televisual actor Nathan Fillion. If there was a fourth, it was stealing turkey sandwiches from Duncan.

Not that Chang loved anything, if we're to be honest.

Getting to the sandwich was made problematic by the fact that, if there was anything in this world Duncan loved, it was beating the shit out of Chang. This meant Duncan had to be distracted, which would be great difficulty in a room with Alia in it. For a normal man, this meant patience and attempting at a later time. Luckily, Benjamin Chang can't define the word "patience". (Or "later".)

Chang picked up a canister of spray paint, stolen from a random student seven months ago. He pulled a rubber band around the nozzle and the body, before removing a screwdriver (stolen from the wood-ship) from his pocket.

"Get ready to get Chang-ed!" Chang proclaimed to no one. With that, he drove the screwdriver into the nozzle and pulled it loose, spraying a stream of spray paint out. The rubber band holding the nozzle open, Chang lobbed the canister out of the (gratuitously large) grate and at Duncan's head.

Action: Throw a canister of spray paint at Duncan.

Roll: (6+2=8)

Duncan was whacked on the head by a can of spray paint, which then sprayed red all over his hair. The can also erupted, sending paint onto Alia and Beatrice's bodies, as well as inside Chang's eyes.

Fortunately, since he had slanted Asian eyes, it didn't make a huge difference for him.

(Duncan suffers -1 on all persuasion rolls until he gets cleaned).
(Alia and Beatrice now have -1 charm until they get cleaned).

Through the pane of sparkling diamond Winthrop stared, out at the empire forged of men of clay and ships of steel. Graceful spires of black metal stabbed the sky, their glistening obsidian rising from the sands of inner Rhodesia as an ancient forest once graced the slopes of the familial estate of the House of Eddleton; a blissful history left far behind. Through time and space he had walked, slain a moose with a drop-pod, slain fundamentalists with a moose, devoured the Nine Hells- it was a tale indeed, too long to tell here, for Winthrop's fucked up existence even he didn't know the entirety of.

What was once the dapper gentlemen was gone, replaced perhaps in eons past-or perhaps in ages yet to come- by a fearsome fusion of man and machine, of what some termed corpse-flesh, others brute machinery. To Winthrop it was merely himself, the evolved Dracula, the animator of the Monster that whelp Mary Shelly wrote about, the traveler to the Yuan Dynasty, the Man in the Iron Mask. His name was Winthrop, and he had a call. The great edifice that was the Lord of the Dissant Machine Empire turned from the stark vistas of NeuHar, and with a whizzing of gizmos and some belches of flame, in the cacophony of the voices of the slain and the pleasant gurgle of stolen organs, he opened a line.

His deep voice, full of the whirring of gears and seeming almost as if two other voices spoke with him, one a whisper, one a shriek of steam, echoed back through the link.

"I am Winthrop, Daleks. Speak, and I shall listen."

As Sally cooed softly in his ear and the static of the channel through space and time frittered on, the God-Emperor made his way to his workbench at the rear of the room. Daleks. Not a word he had heard before, but if they knew of him and he knew not of them, things could get dicey. A memoy, or perhaps a prophecy, a vision of the future past tugged at him, and Winthrop grinned. A bit of blood trickled from lips not his own as steel teeth glinted behind a sewn-together face.

Action: Construct coal-powered clockwork time anchor out of bits and bobs. Preferably one that emits flames when started and whistles on the hour when working. By coincidence, it might look exactly like the Antikythera Mechanism.

"WE WOULD LIKE TO AID YOU IN DESTROYING WIND-HOEK!" one Dalek screeched.

Roll: 4+2=6. Close, but not exactly. You did make a fantastic clockwork coffee maker though.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Alia leaned back on her throne, which had been carried over to the office by her worshippers and servants, as she listened to the Professor, who was essentially asking for more money for the university. Usually she wouldn't really refuse, but she figured she might as well also hear what this Mr. Lamar had to say. It wasn't like she had a whole lot to do, after all, and she figured this could be interesting.

Not that waiting was much more entertaining than doing nothing, mind you.

What was entertaining was what Beatrice was doing. It was nice enough that she didn't really mind the spray paint all over her. It did, however, make her loyal paladin less dignified, so the Queen decided to do her a favor.

ACTION: Clean Beatrice. Thoroughly.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Alia leaned back on her throne, which had been carried over to the office by her worshippers and servants, as she listened to the Professor, who was essentially asking for more money for the university. Usually she wouldn't really refuse, but she figured she might as well also hear what this Mr. Lamar had to say. It wasn't like she had a whole lot to do, after all, and she figured this could be interesting.

Not that waiting was much more entertaining than doing nothing, mind you.

What was entertaining was what Beatrice was doing. It was nice enough that she didn't really mind the spray paint all over her. It did, however, make her loyal paladin less dignified, so the Queen decided to do her a favor.

ACTION: Clean Beatrice. Thoroughly.

Roll: 8

Alia's tongue cleaned off Beatrice extremely thoroughly. No square inch was left uncovered. Of course, this meant Beatrice's armour was removed.

Duncan no longer paid attention to his hatred for Chang, instead focusing on Alia and Beatrice with great interest.

"Um, can you clean me off?" He asked.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Roll: 8

Alia's tongue cleaned off Beatrice extremely thoroughly. No square inch was left uncovered. Of course, this meant Beatrice's armour was removed.

Duncan no longer paid attention to his hatred for Chang, instead focusing on Alia and Beatrice with great interest.

"Um, can you clean me off?" He asked.

Alia, enthralled in her task as she was, and about to move onto something far more interesting, stopped and looked at Duncan when he spoke. How long had that man been there? Oh, right, he was the one they were meeting with. Well, no matter, a Goddess owed her faithful subjects as much as they owed her for her gifts and teachings, after all, and, as one such Goddess, and as the Queen of Windhoek no less, she had the same duty with her people.

ACTION: Clean Duncan.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Roll: 8

Alia's tongue cleaned off Beatrice extremely thoroughly. No square inch was left uncovered. Of course, this meant Beatrice's armour was removed.

Duncan no longer paid attention to his hatred for Chang, instead focusing on Alia and Beatrice with great interest.

"Um, can you clean me off?" He asked.

Alia, enthralled in her task as she was, and about to move onto something far more interesting, stopped and looked at Duncan when he spoke. How long had that man been there? Oh, right, he was the one they were meeting with. Well, no matter, a Goddess owed her faithful subjects as much as they owed her for her gifts and teachings, after all, and, as one such Goddess, and as the Queen of Windhoek no less, she had the same duty with her people.

ACTION: Clean Duncan.

Roll: 10

Not only do you clean off Duncan (and render him nude), you also do the same with yourself. (Now also nude.)

Duncan, for his part, is transfixed now and immobile. He had caused a bit of a mess as you cleaned, but you fixed that for him too. And he was grateful.

(+2 on persuading to do anything for five turns.)

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Roll: 10

Not only do you clean off Duncan (and render him nude), you also do the same with yourself. (Now also nude.)

Duncan, for his part, is transfixed now and immobile. He had caused a bit of a mess as you cleaned, but you fixed that for him too. And he was grateful.

(+2 on persuading to do anything for five turns.)

Alia, confused as she was regarding the possibility of being doubly naked somehow, was glad that once again she had fulfilled her duty as the Queen, Goddess, Prophet and several-more-such-titles of Windhoek. However, just as she owed her people, so too did they owe her for everything she did for them, and so, the Queen tried to think of ways in which this subject could repay her.

Anyway, he seemed compliant, and she decided that she'd try something just for the hell of it.

ACTION: Convince Duncan to restore her power.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Alia, enthralled in her task as she was, and about to move onto something far more interesting, stopped and looked at Duncan when he spoke. How long had that man been there? Oh, right, he was the one they were meeting with. Well, no matter, a Goddess owed her faithful subjects as much as they owed her for her gifts and teachings, after all, and, as one such Goddess, and as the Queen of Windhoek no less, she had the same duty with her people.

ACTION: Clean Duncan.

Roll: 10

Not only do you clean off Duncan (and render him nude), you also do the same with yourself. (Now also nude.)

Duncan, for his part, is transfixed now and immobile. He had caused a bit of a mess as you cleaned, but you fixed that for him too. And he was grateful.

(+2 on persuading to do anything for five turns.)

Chang couldn't help but exploit this - if only he could get down there.

ACTION: Rip the grate off.

[Constaniana]

Beatrice purred like a content kitten as her queen cleaned her off, only without the darkness and lust for genocide waiting to blossom within that kittens had. Beatrice would have continued "cleaning" her queen, but she sensed possible danger, and decided to don her sexy armour once more to be prepared.

ACTION: Equip sexy kevlar paladin armour

[G-Tech Corporation]

Winthrop had been distracted. Not distracted by the sexy, as was usually the case, or the fleshy, as also happened, but by the coffee.

It was delicious, even with the Daleks- whoever they were- screeching in his ears.

"Daleks, your aid would be most appreciated. Soon, soon, the scourge of Windhoek will be purged from the face of this blasted Dark Continent. White man's burden, stiff upper lip, all that."

Action: Imbibe coffee from steampunk coffee maker.

[Nude East Ireland]

Barnaby left his office, sniffing the air and sighing as he did. "Fuck this shit," he muttered quietly, as he began to walk down the street. His office - Lamar Law Offices - was a shoddy little building in a middle-class part of the city. And, it was right down the street from the best bar in Windhoek.

Action: Go get shitfaced at the bar.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Winthrop had been distracted. Not distracted by the sexy, as was usually the case, or the fleshy, as also happened, but by the coffee.

It was delicious, even with the Daleks- whoever they were- screeching in his ears.

"Daleks, your aid would be most appreciated. Soon, soon, the scourge of Windhoek will be purged from the face of this blasted Dark Continent. White man's burden, stiff upper lip, all that."

Action: Imbibe coffee from steampunk coffee maker.

Roll: 7

You drink the coffee happily. It's quite tasty and lifts your mood.

Behind you, a sound of clattering is heard as a very confused Yuzuki falls from a portal that opened up in the air, closing right behind her.

[Rupudska]

Thankfully for Yuzuki she landed on her ass, which was further cushioned by her large, fluffy raccoon tail.

"Ughh... where the... hell am I?"

She looked around, noticing Winthrop.

Well this certainly isn't Elfen High, she thought to herself.

Wait. My spellcards!

ACTION: Check pockets for magic bullet spellcards

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Thankfully for Yuzuki she landed on her ass, which was further cushioned by her large, fluffy raccoon tail.

"Ughh... where the... hell am I?"

She looked around, noticing Winthrop.

Well this certainly isn't Elfen High, she thought to herself.

Wait. My spellcards!

ACTION: Check pockets for magic bullet spellcards

Roll: 5

You find the cards, but they're wet.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Roll: 10

Not only do you clean off Duncan (and render him nude), you also do the same with yourself. (Now also nude.)

Duncan, for his part, is transfixed now and immobile. He had caused a bit of a mess as you cleaned, but you fixed that for him too. And he was grateful.

(+2 on persuading to do anything for five turns.)

Alia, confused as she was regarding the possibility of being doubly naked somehow, was glad that once again she had fulfilled her duty as the Queen, Goddess, Prophet and several-more-such-titles of Windhoek. However, just as she owed her people, so too did they owe her for everything she did for them, and so, the Queen tried to think of ways in which this subject could repay her.

Anyway, he seemed compliant, and she decided that she'd try something just for the hell of it.

ACTION: Convince Duncan to restore her power.

Roll: 4+2 = 6.

Duncan tries his best, but fails.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Beatrice purred like a content kitten as her queen cleaned her off, only without the darkness and lust for genocide waiting to blossom within that kittens had. Beatrice would have continued "cleaning" her queen, but she sensed possible danger, and decided to don her sexy armour once more to be prepared.

ACTION: Equip sexy kevlar paladin armour

Roll: 9

You equip your armour, but much too well. It's now firmly stuck on you and will be difficult to get out of.

Barnaby left his office, sniffing the air and sighing as he did. "Fuck this shit," he muttered quietly, as he began to walk down the street. His office - Lamar Law Offices - was a shoddy little building in a middle-class part of the city. And, it was right down the street from the best bar in Windhoek.

Action: Go get shitfaced at the bar.

Roll: 9

You walk into a local bar, trip and your face falls upon a mound of dog shit.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Roll: 10

Not only do you clean off Duncan (and render him nude), you also do the same with yourself. (Now also nude.)

Duncan, for his part, is transfixed now and immobile. He had caused a bit of a mess as you cleaned, but you fixed that for him too. And he was grateful.

(+2 on persuading to do anything for five turns.)

Chang couldn't help but exploit this - if only he could get down there.

ACTION: Rip the grate off.

Roll: 8

You rip the grate off. In fact, you even fashion the grate into a sword somehow.

[Nude East Ireland]

Barnaby left his office, sniffing the air and sighing as he did. "Fuck this shit," he muttered quietly, as he began to walk down the street. His office - Lamar Law Offices - was a shoddy little building in a middle-class part of the city. And, it was right down the street from the best bar in Windhoek.

Action: Go get shitfaced at the bar.

Roll: 9

You walk into a local bar, trip and your face falls upon a mound of dog shit.

"Jesus Christ," Barnaby muttered. He lifted himself up, wiped the dogshit off of his face, and proceeded to the bar.

Action: Flirt with the barmaid - the one with the huge breasts.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Alia, confused as she was regarding the possibility of being doubly naked somehow, was glad that once again she had fulfilled her duty as the Queen, Goddess, Prophet and several-more-such-titles of Windhoek. However, just as she owed her people, so too did they owe her for everything she did for them, and so, the Queen tried to think of ways in which this subject could repay her.

Anyway, he seemed compliant, and she decided that she'd try something just for the hell of it.

ACTION: Convince Duncan to restore her power.

Roll: 4+2 = 6.

Duncan tries his best, but fails.

"Oh well."

ACTION: Order Duncan to fetch a pizza.

[Constaniana]

Beatrice fidgeted a tad, noting how uncomfortable her breasts, heels and hips felt in her armour now but she supposed it was her fault. Anyways, the Queen's safety and comfort came first, not hers. If Alia wished for pizza she would no doubt wish for something with which to wash it down once she was done eating. Surely the Dean was an accommodating host, willing to provide the queen of the land and her faithful paladin with refreshments?

Action: Order Duncan to fetch them drinks.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Chang couldn't help but exploit this - if only he could get down there.

ACTION: Rip the grate off.

Roll: 8

You rip the grate off. In fact, you even fashion the grate into a sword somehow.

Chang suddenly had a much better idea. By which I mean, a much worse, much more out-of-touch idea. Thus, better; at least, more likely to succeed.

"EXCALIBUR, BITCHES!" he cackled. With that, Chang scampered off.

ACTION: Assemble your own personal Knights of the Round Table.