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Old May 28th, 2024, 09:14 PM
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Adventure Skeletons!

The start of an Adventure, skeletons!
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Lovely spired castle-like manor on a cliff overlooking the ocean with a winding cobblestone path lined in greenery and flowers. Below is a beach with an archway that leads into darkness under the manor
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Two skeletons, one wearing a lovely hat, playing cards at a card covered table by candlelight in front of a bookcase, whiling away their time
Something is wrong in your world.

"Something is amiss," you finally say. It’s up to you to say it, after all. You are their leader. You are Doc. You tap two phalanges on the crooked card table. You stare hollowly at the skeletal Dwarf across from you. It’s the only way you can stare. You are a skeleton.

“Amiss,” you repeat, with a slight hiss between your well-spaced teeth.

“Yes!” hisses the Elf skeleton. “Someone needs to go and find out what’s going on!” The Goblin skeleton chimes in, muttering about that hidden passage that leads “upstairs.” The Human skeleton, sprawled out on a velvet chaise, reminds you all that yesterday, faint music was heard coming from the long white stone hallway that leads to “out.” The Orc skeleton paces the salon, oversized and clunky. "I smelled the sea!" The Orc skeleton had been boasting for weeks how he traveled further than anyone down the hallway and approached a gap-in-the-wall-door and snorted moist air.

You are all at least one hundred years beyond age. Your world has been a gilded cage, a very fancy prison far underground. Whoever you all were, you died here, and you forgot. You rose again, animated by magic, to defend this dungeon against what invading adventurers may come. And come they did, in regular waves, into this room. The elegantly carved chaise lounge seating, marble floors covered in silk knotted rugs in golds, greens, and cranberry -- all are now bloodstained, scorched by fire, and torn from nearly a century fighting adventurers who want your treasure. The white hallway is stained with blood, ashes, spilled potions, and pocked with acid splats from an exploded gelatinous cube named Blobby.
But that all stopped, months ago. The white hallway that dead-ends into your little world has gone silent. The last group of meddling adventurers ransacked the salon, moved your favorite and most beautiful painting, solved the puzzle, found the hidden door, and BAM. Gone, leaving you to pick up your pieces, literally. And that was it. No more balanced parties. No more puzzle and door. And no one has added gems or scrolls or anything in just forever.

"We have been abandoned!" the elf skeleton cries, rattling the few inches of rusted chain that remain shackled around the left ulna and radius. “Are we to just stay here, waiting, with no treasure to protect, no adventurers to destroy, and nothing to do?”

“Yes!” argues the Dwarf. “We’re meant to stay here. We don’t go out. We die, we respawn, we fight. Adventurers come, and solve the puzzle, and find the door. That’s it.”

No, you’re meant for more. Doc, you know what the world looks like “upstairs” beyond the secret door. You know what is out at the end of the white hallway. Don’t you? You’ve seen the paintings of elegant rooms that glitter in sunshine, a wide expanse of blue and a long beach. Maybe everything that has been stolen from you and your other skeleton friends… could be up there or out there. Gems, scrolls, magical doodads are waiting to be won. Legends waiting to be written. You’ve got supplies. A stack of busted armor and weapons. A shiny treasure chest. A pile of clothes and an assortment of ridiculous hats.

You’re going, Doc. But who will go with you, out of this forgotten place, off to an adventure?


 
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Last edited by lostcheerio; Jun 29th, 2024 at 04:34 PM.
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Old Jun 1st, 2024, 09:53 AM
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Where does the origin story of a skeleton begin? Our hero came into existence as the support system, calcium reservoir, and erythrocyte factory for a dwarven battlerager known as Zeffo the Foolhardy. Unsurprisingly, Zeffo threw his life away in a futile assault against the Tower of Grom-Xax-Yor the Animator. That was when independent existence truly commenced, under the name Minion #7. But animated skeletons will outlast even the most determined of necromancers, and in the ages that came after, our protagonist spent year in and year out defending the tower ruins against waves of adventurers and plunderers, under the tutelage and ministrations of the wise old skeleton called Doc.

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Then one day the dungeon was invaded by a group of human treasure-hunters, one of whom was a luxuriously tressed and scantily dressed Cleric of Love. This priestess, as luck would have it, had brought the wrong amulet and, instead of turning the skeletons, had turned on all of her own companions. Doc’s gang had no problem rending the overwhelmingly amorous intruders limb from limb, and our hero claimed from the hapless cleric’s corpse a lovely blonde wig and a ruby heart-shaped amulet engraved on the back with the word "Aphrodite." Having acquired, in one gore-filled afternoon, both an adventuring kit and a name for herself, Aphrodite the Skeleton, erstwhile Minion #7, erstwhile the innards of Zeffo the Foolhardy, was more than eager to volunteer when Doc proclaimed that he was looking for one brave sidekick to accompany him out of the secret door once and for all. To blow this joint (skeletons always intend the pun) at last. To follow the lure of the briny, moist air and the sound of the sea that entered their dungeon beneath the tower ruins every time it was broken into. "The world is full of all manner of small humanoid villages," Doc had said, "each one a boundless opportunity for feats of legend!"

On the night they were ready to depart, Aphrodite joined her friends, the Orc Skeleton, the Goblin Skeleton, the other Dwarf Skeleton, and the Elf Skeleton in one more round of pouring wine through their lower jaws onto the floor. Then, with Doc leading the way with his scimitar drawn, the two intrepid undead pushed their way into the open air for the first time in countless centuries and took their first steps toward a life of Adventure.



 
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Last edited by lostcheerio; Jun 29th, 2024 at 04:34 PM.
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Old Jun 2nd, 2024, 02:35 PM
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Doc, the wise skeleton who has outlasted the rise and fall of multiple civilizations, leads Aprodite, whose undeadness is new enough that she's still getting used to it, out of their home, the Tower of Grom-Xax-Yor the Animator. Their bones can not detect the pleasant crisp breeze of a spoopy Fall evening. Apparently the wonder of bone conduction alows them to hear the rustle of dried leaves blowing. Some combination of magic, and the ancient hatred of their animator, and a couple of bored crickets hanging around their cervical vertebrae allow them to communicate verbally in a clear but unsettling manner.

Doc points Aphrodite towards their destination: the nearby dungeon of Hollypoppins-on-the-Stiggywick. Aphrodite, when still enfleshed, had come from far away and so did not know this place. Doc informs her that it is rumored to be infested with the loathsome wretches known as "gnomes". They alone will be troublesome, but they keep their war-bred brutes the humans close at hand. These gnomes, it is said, re-create the homey charm of the dungeon is twisted mockeries they call "basements" and "root cellars".

And that must be their destination, Doc instructs Aphrodite. Monsters will always hold their loot where safest and best protected. The gnome towers will be made of feeble twee boards and sticks and straw. Do not be distracted by the blasphemous colors in their window-boxes or their rabbit-ridden vegetable-beds or the doleful tones of the wind-chimes under their eaves. No, beneath is always where true rewards wait. You must go in, and down.

After an hour or so on the road, they come to an ominous sign that sends a shiver down their spines:

"Welcome, friends, to the Village of Hollypoppins-on-the-Stiggywick!
A Sustainable Community
Home of Fighting Weasels rowing team, national high school champions 3456, 3478, 3479, and 3491."

In the dungeon, the road splits and leaves many options to approach their raid. There are some houses nearby, where children and parents move about (are they always out and about after dark on a mid-Fall day when skeletons walk the earth? And... are they mocking you? Is one of them wearing a mask like a skull?). There is a building taller than the rest that sits deep in the center of town, which is surmounted by a tower and a bell. It looks old and rich. And near the river, there are a series of docks where long narrow boats are moored, next to a long building with a sign that says "HotS HS. Go Weasels!"

Doc looks to Aphrodite: where to begin their quest into the depths of this grim place?

 
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Old Jun 2nd, 2024, 07:49 PM
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The aged Doc and the young Aphrodite rattle along the moonlit village outskirts to the large building with the docks and narrow boats. It forms eponymously the precise point where Hollypoppins sits upon the Stiggywick. The sign identifies it as 'HotS HS' which means, Doc assures Aphrodite, this is a barracks where the town's militia, the Fighting Weasels, are trained to start their rows. Probably, he says, there are few gnomes within and instead it houses the human brutes who do their fighting for them.

Had the skeletons eyes, they would gleam thinking of the treasures that must fill the building's root cellar. "In and down" they remind themselves. They approach and, finding the steel doors propped open, enter.

Within, brick walls are painted a sickly yellow, eerily square flagstones pave the floor, and the flickering light of fluorescent torches bathes the foyer of HotS HS in a glow as cold as that of grave worms. To the left, one wall is lined with prison cells, each barely large enough to fit a single skeleton. On the opposite wall hang half a dozen skeletons, their bones pressed flat like flowers in a scrapbook. Flattened bats and paper-thin spiders surround them, and it is only due to the absence of a flat-xidermied chimera that Aphrodite concludes these trophies weren't taken from the Tower of Grom-Xax-Yor himself.

A gnome woman perched on a stool behind a plastic table greets the pair. "My, what exquisite costumes" she squawks, collecting her papers "What's the last name?"

A coded couplet for which the skeletons lack the countersign. "Leave it to me" whispers Aphrodite, clattering up to the table.

"Last name, please?" the gnome repeats. Then she notices Doc's scimitar and continues "Oh, and your brother will have to leave his weapon with the 'Quartermaster'" she tinkles a sardonic laugh as she indicates a dread figure behind her.

Aphrodite's jaw vibrates, a blood-chilling mockery of innocent laughter as she answers. "Oh, we didn't realize. Since we've come all this way, maybe you can make an exception?"

Meanwhile, Doc approaches the 'Quartermaster' who expects to claim his weapon. She is a young human woman resting, chin collapsed on folded arms, on another plastic table. Her black-painted eyes are the sunken sockets of a shambler, her face (despite its flesh) is more expressionless than Doc's, and she is dressed all in black. Her masters have placed a thin black collar with metal spikes around her neck, but where a nametag should go, a silver skull sits instead. On the table are tubs, which contain a number of curious weapons. A foam-bladed axe, a handgun with an orange tip, and a telescoping tube that glows red and makes a "nyeom beeouw" sound when a button is pressed.

Doc is disinclined to compliance, though this human warrior woman strikes an intimidating figure. Instead, he draws his sword, and challenges "After my blade? Duel me for it. Win, and she's yours. Lose, and I'll take these weapons you've collected!"



 

Last edited by lostcheerio; Jun 29th, 2024 at 04:35 PM.
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Old Jun 5th, 2024, 02:11 AM
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Doc and Aphrodite stand mute for several moments. Docs jaw hanging open in quiet confusion while Aphrodite finally calms her own jittery jaws from clacking. Thoughts of In and Down cross their thoughts, they were in but saw no way down. Not yet anyway. Aphrodite checks the wall behind the gnome. She sees another paper banner for Hots HS. A similar banner hangs crookedly on the opposite wall behind them.
Names please, the gnome asks again while pointing to the other table with the young black leather dressed human woman.
Doc stands in front of the intimidating woman warrior and draws his scimitar. After my blade? Duel me for it. Win, and she’s yours. Lose, and I’ll take these weapons you’ve collected. Aphrodite turns her head, looking over her shoulder at the long hallway with the narrow, strangely quiet prison cells.
The gnome looks up from her scribbling and stares at Doc for several moments, his words still echoing in the foyer. The square flagstones of the floor gleam a dull yellow from the fluorescent torches lining the dirty wall behind the gnome. A slow gust of wind rattles the narrow cells to their left. No sounds, no scratching or moans come from the cells. The flattened bats, paper thin cats, and mushed skeletons on the wall to their right, flap like puppets on a string. The gnome taps her pencil against the plastic table and shifts on her stool. The gnome stares at Doc, then at the human looking girl resting at the other plastic table. The gnome called the woman with black-painted eyes “The Quartermaster.” The young woman remains resting, her chin set on folded arms. Her eyes rise to the top of her sunken sockets and a cat like smile spreads slowly across her once expressionless face. She sits up, her back cracking as she straightens. Dressed all in black, she fades into the darkness of the room behind her so they have a hard time making out her form. Thin black leather pauldrons adorn her shoulders and slinky dark chains drop to her biceps. Red tattoos, shapped like cat claws move up and down her arms as she stretches and flexes. She lowers her arms, placing her hands protectively and possessively over the plastic tubs on the table. As she leans over, they see more of her. Just below her pierced navel is tawny hide rather than human skin or more leather wear. Claws clicking against the flagstone floor cause them to look down and see two large lion like paws underneath the table. Seeing them see her full form, she gives them a canary eating smile. I will take your play, she whispers while picking a foam-bladed axe from one of the tubs with her left hand. With her right, she lifts the handgun with an orange tip from the second tub, leaving the telescoping tube that glows red and makes a “nyeom beeouw,” sound when the yellow button is pressed.
The gnome stands up on her stool and though she is still shorter than the Lammia, there is an unmistakeable tone of command in her voice, Leucra! Play nice. Leucra rises up herself, stretching her powerful hind legs, but why Fum? Fie makes such sweet pie from freshly powdered bone. The gnome’s bushy eyebrows twitch and seem to point at the Lammia. The thin black leather collar Leucra wears tightens and the silver skull, where a name tag should sit, glows an eerie pale white for a moment. Leucra lets out a long, deep sigh and settles back on her haunches. Leucra says in a whisper of a voice, [B] Answer me these riddles three and that your duel shall be. "What is that drink I drank yesterday? It was neither wine nor water, Mead nor ale, nor any food, Yet I went from thence without thirst.

Singing all night in the church's steeple
they build a fire on the chapel lawn
Dance around til the crack of dawn
When the mists are parted you will find them gone With horse and cart and a family fire,
The spirits here couldn't get much higher
Of land and sky, they love it all
Proud to stand, but honor a fall
For living life is the highest call

I have a little house
It's windows number plenty
It's full of flowers no man picked
And you may have it when it's empty


 

Last edited by lostcheerio; Jun 29th, 2024 at 04:36 PM.
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Old Jun 6th, 2024, 12:10 AM
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The Guardians at the Gate of HotS High
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Two noble and adventurous skeletons confront contentious high school jail combat secretaries.
In and Down was the mission. In to HotS High School, and Down, down to somewhere unknown inside the forbidding educational dungeon.

Showing up armed seemed reasonable and wise, a well-known and perfectly socially acceptable way of knocking at a prison school's door. Aphrodite and Doc Bones were In. It was almost too much to hope that a way Down would follow. Much to their dismay, what followed was Fum and Leucra, a grim gnomish woman and a human-ish tattooed leather goddess, two of the meanest high school secretaries the skeletons had ever had the misfortune to meet.

'Secretaries', thought Aphrodite, recalling that few noticed the word originally meant 'keepers of secrets'. She surveyed the office. Some people had an odd hobby of pressing leaves and flowers between the pages of heavy books. The school wardens seemed to rejoice in squashing bats and cats and even small skeletons. Grisly trophies were pinned all over the walls, morbid mementos of their horrifying cruelty.

The two women sat behind a desk separating the noble bonefolk from a silent hall of barred cells, sipping tea in an ominous way. They took menacing notes, filed forboding papers. "Names, please." Leucra, "The Quartermaster" as Fum called her, offered to hold Doc's scimitar for safe-keeping. She gestured at dusty plastic tubs containing other confiscated items, a bouncy axe, a squirty gun, a bladeless sword of some advanced alien technology that went 'voom-wiv-whirrr'.

Aphrodite leaned on Doc's shoulder, whispering "Don't do it! They'll take our names!" Doc hesitated, then sheathed his sword. "After my blade? Duel me for it. Win, and she’s yours. Lose, and I’ll take these weapons you’ve collected." Leucra slunk back into the shadows behind the tall desk, her form ever less human and ever more feline, chains clinking on her leather armor. She drew a bouncy axe and a squirty gun from the tubs, passing over Wacky Wall Walkers, puffy stickers, lonely Tamagotchis, and the vwooving sword. "I will take your play."

Even Fum took offense. "Leucra! Play nice." The Quartermaster snaked out of the office, a thin chain trailing after her. She was now fully transformed, a Lamia in body and face, hissing as she eyed the skeletons. "But why, Fum? Fie makes such sweet pie from freshly powdered bone." The gnome glared and Leucra pulled up short, settling sphinxlike before the desk. "Answer me these riddles three and that your duel shall be." A skull on her collar flared and the skeletons were dazzled.

Dice Aphrodite - Charm save:
1d10sh4 3

Dice Doctor Bones - Charm save:
1d10sh4 9


Leucra recited three riddles in quick succession. Doc shook off the light. "Really? Is this a quiz?" The sparkle remained in Aphrodite's empty sockets. "Sounds fair to me, Doc. We're smarter than a catsnake, aren't we? And really I do like the look of that foamy axe." Aphrodite's bony face somehow conveyed an acquisitive look, Leucra's leonine smirk spread like a Cheshire cat's smile, and Doc thought 'Oh, no.' He'd been a doctor of something in life, he just wasn't sure quite what. Could have been something useful like osteopathy. Could have been a sort of honorary degree, perhaps he'd been a master philatelist and been honored for it. He hoped they could outriddle a cat.

'What is that drink I drank yesterday? It was neither wine nor water, Mead nor ale, nor any food, Yet I went from thence without thirst.'

The skeletons went into a huddle, whispering to each other. "Got to be milk, right? Builds strong bones and teeth." "Oooh, milk is sort of food though." "I've heard this one, it's dew!" "But dew is water, right?" "Shh, shh, she's a cat! Like cats know what dew is." "Dew, it's dew!"

'Singing all night in the church's steeple
they build a fire on the chapel lawn
Dance around til the crack of dawn
When the mists are parted you will find them gone
With horse and cart and a family fire,
The spirits here couldn't get much higher
Of land and sky, they love it all
Proud to stand, but honor a fall
For living life is the highest call'

Doc scratched his head, which made a loud skreeky-skronky noise. "Do you think this is, um, metaphorical?" Aphrodite's teeth ground together. "Oh lord. It's those sort of people, you know, festivals, them who listen to Hawkwind and Gong even if they don't have to." There was a pause. "Er. I rather like Gong." "Didn't know that about you." "Well, not that one stretch..." Aphrodite cut Doc off and barked an answer at Leucra. "It's bards, isn't it?"

'I have a little house
It's windows number plenty
It's full of flowers no man picked
And you may have it when it's empty'

Aphrodite's wig clonked against Doc's skull. "Um. Little house. Lots of windows. Bird nest?" "Do birds pick flowers?" "I don't know. Who picks flowers? I guess you can have a bird nest if it's empty." "We got two out of three already, right?" There was another long pause. "Evicted bird florist. Give us the weapons and get out of our way, Leucra."



 
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Last edited by lostcheerio; Jun 29th, 2024 at 04:36 PM.
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Old Jun 6th, 2024, 02:48 AM
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A skeleton dog sits in a long hallway lined by rows of shelf cubbies, each holding a skull. The image is executed in black and white as if sketched.

A bell rings, and the waves of its clanging pass through you with a pleasant vibration--both of you feel it in your bones.

As two skeletons, this is how you know things. You have no brains. You have no heart. You have no bizarre strings of eely fettucini packed inside of you that go by the name of intestines.

Absent these vital organs, you cannot store things long in your memory. You do not hold torches for long-lost flames. You cannot listen to your guts.

But who needs all that? Who needs anxiety, grief, or gnawing worry?

You are free from those--because you feel things in your bones.

And as the bell stops ringing and your body's resonance returns to its normal frequency, you sense a wave of short flesh-pots flowing from numerous siderooms down a central hall, circulating, congregating, and dispersing in dozens of directions all at once. And before you, you sense two scowling figures yielding a path they had barred, allowing you to move forward, to continue the direction to which your kneebones point (because your bones know).

As you move along the pathway, your bones repeatedly crunch their purpose to you in a grating, persistent creak ...

"You are Doc. You were seeking a high place. An academy of sorts. Now within it, you must go low to find a fabulous treasure, a richness that fits you like skin on bone," it rattles again and again to one of you.

"You are Aphrodite. Once so doughty. You know this place, just as you were bred in these bones. And you, too, seek treasure," the bones of the other grind on and on.

As you walk along the pathway, you sense it is lined with what you feel are things called "portraits," but which your bones tell you hide the true skull essences of ones you once knew. There is a slight sympathetic vibration that starts within you and continues as you walk until you come to another creature, one on four legs and with a rotund barrel of a chest that you find yourself wanting to rub. You sense you have known this creature before as Oss, Faithful Oss.

"This is the way of bones, boss," it barks to both of you. "Give a good Oss a bone, each, and I can lead you further. I will be your good bone boi."

And having said that, it waits. As it has for so many centuries. While other bones have come and been ground to dust, it waited for you to return with your tired bones for one more walk.



 

Last edited by lostcheerio; Jun 29th, 2024 at 04:37 PM.
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Old Jun 6th, 2024, 07:13 PM
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A hallway stretches before them. Shortish flesh-pots skitter away and vanish behind slammed side doors, different from the equally fleshy but smaller rats and crawly things that so helpfully set skeletons such as themselves free from the corruption of flesh.

The dusty marrow of his bones tells Doc he belongs here, in this place of mortal learning. And somewhere ahead is a fabulous treasure he must have. With each grate of femur against tibia, it calls to him.

Aphrodite knows she belongs in this place. Inside her skull beneath the lush blond wig, are cobwebs and the wispy forgotten tendrils of memory. Nestled among the cobwebs is the dead carcass of a once friendly spider, and the egg sac she left behind.

The two make their way down a narrow corridor past rectangular pigment representations of the pre-skeleton fleshy creatures that infest this place. There is one such portrait that both skeletons feel compelled to stop and contemplate, for there is something familiar about two of the figures.

Doc is moved to reach out one distal phalanx as though to touch it, but then senses a faint vibration – a voom-wiv-whirr! - as if from a distance, and pulls his hand away in disgust. What a relief it is to know his metamorphosis from that caterpillar-like beginning is ancient history!

As Aphrodite regards the portrait amid the faint vibrations, the cobwebs in her skull are disturbed. The spider's egg sac breaks open, and a hundred tiny spiders emerge. A strange motherly impulse threatens to overwhelm her, something she's certain has never affected her before, not even in her distant fleshy existence. This alien compulsion triggers bone shaking shudders that resonate with the vibrations, until her right arm suddenly breaks down into dust before her. "My arm!" she cries.

Doc considers his feisty companion's predicament with alarm. Broken down to dust as her arm is, even his bone glue was unlikely to help. "Don't worry, Aphrodite, we'll find a replacement," he soothes.

The two tenacious skeletons reach the hallway's end, drawn by the treasure that calls to the core of their bone beings, into another corridor. This one is lined in shelves of skulls, and they are confronted by the source of the rhythmic vibrations. It's a creature like them, evolved from the confines of flesh into the purity of bone, to reveal its true, faithful nature and skeletal canine capacity for unconditional love that transcends mortal existence, tale bones slapping happily against the floor. Aphrodite and Doc greet him in unison. "Oss!"

Oss barks, "This is the way of bones, boss. Give a good Oss a bone, each, and I can lead you further. I will be your good bone boi."

Doc knows in his bones that Oss truly is a good bone boi, and does not hesitate. He detaches his right arm and hands it over.

But Aphrodite balks. "I only have one arm left! If I give it up, I won't be able to throw rocks." She won't be able to defend her spider babies or attack any fleshy creatures between her and the treasure.

Doc replaces his right arm with his scimitar and regards Aphrodite with as much thought as the empty space inside his skull can support. He can't help but notice the strange wig disguise she wears on her skull is somewhat more appealing, covered as it is now by a wriggling swarm of tiny spiders. Gallantly he declares, "I feel deep in my marrow dust this is the right thing to do and the best way forward. Aphrodite, I will gladly offer my remaining arm to you as replacement, if you give your arm to Oss."

Aphrodite nods her acceptance of Doc's plan, and yet... Many tiny voices whisper in her skull suggesting that Aphrodite attempt to negotiate first. "Why two bones? You have only one mouth, Oss, and no way to carry a second bone. Will you agree to help us if I promise to give you my bone after we reach the treasure?"


OOC Player Dice Rolls and actions
Aphrodite encounters a portrait of her mortal self
Dice Roll:
1d10 2

Since she got '2', one of Aphrodite's bones crumbles to dust. Which one?
Dice Roll:
1d10 5

her right arm.

Doc encounters a portrait of his mortal self
Dice Roll:
1d10 3

he does not lose a bone in the portrait encounter.

Doc chooses to give his right arm to Oss, and replaces it with his scimitar.
Aphrodite attempts to negotiate with Oss, promising to give Oss her remaining left arm after they find the treasure. But if she fails to convince Oss, she will go with Doc's plan to give Oss her left arm and accept Doc's left arm to replace it.

Aphrodite attempts to persuade Oss to wait for her bone
Dice Roll:
1d10 5

Maybe the spiders give her a +1 ?
(I did not update the stats with the Oss bonuses, and am leaving the good boi resolution to the next DM - jbear )



 
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Old Jun 8th, 2024, 05:11 PM
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ICThe empty orbits of Oss the bone hound and all round good bone boi stare at Aphrodite as her question echoes down the dusty hall. Doc's arm hangs from either side of Oss' jaw. The silence that follows when Aphrodite's question finally fades could be because Oss dislikes the question or perhaps because Oss has their mouth full.

Oss begins to chew Doc's arm. Snapping. Crunching. Crushing. Chewing. All of that proceeds Oss' deep sigh of pleasure as he tastes the delicious marrow hidden beneath the chalk white casing.

The newly born spiders which have crawled from Aphrodite's eyesockets and scamper over her lustrous blonde wig do little to convince the good bone boi that having one mouth is a convincing reason to receive a single bone, especially now Oss' powerful jaws have made short work of Doc's offering. That is until the spiderlings resonate with the whispering in Aphrodite's skull and their haphazard scampering takes on a surprising deliberateness.

The spiderlings gather around Aphrodite's own orbits and move in unison, like fluttering eyelashes long since corroded into dust.

Oss snorts.

"There are three bones in an arm. And more than three in a wrist. Too many to count in hand. I only asked for one because Oss is a good boy! Oss only needs one not three! Not more than three, nor too many to count." His 23-piece bony tail wags and then Oss leaps forward and bites off the first phalange of Aphrodite's big toe.

Savouring his new treat with more care than Doc's much larger and freely given offering, the bone hound speaks with the phalange inside their mouth, like a bony gobstopper which muffled Oss' speech as he led the pair down the dust past the shelves filled with skulls.

"The place past the hall is beautiful. Terrifying but beautiful. "The Smith's Bridge they call it. Can you hear that ringing? That's the hammers on the bridge! So long as you don't get crushed beneath one of the hammers... or fall off into the Pit of Despair from the vibrations... it's the fastest way to the treasure. Otherwise you have to go the long, safe boring way... through Bonecrusher and Skullchomper's lair. Those big fleshies are mad about bones... disgusting trollbags are usually always sleeping though. So keep your clackers shut if we choose the boring way!"

Oss' boney paw presses a magical glyph at the end of the hall and the towering doors that sealed the hall grind open. A vast cavern lies beyond. A flat smooth metal bridge extends above impenetrable shadows that cloak a fall of unknown distances below into what Oss called 'the Pit of Despair.' Two gigantic dwarven statues carved into the right wall of the cavern move a singular arm, the huge hammer in their hand falling one after the other. 'Clang... clang... ' The whole room vibrates with the impact, your bones jiggle and skittle a little.

right-aligned image
To the left a pathway encircles the cavern a short distance before being lost to the gloom of a cave that flickers with some dim light. Light snoring can be heard between hammer falls.

Oss wags his many-boned tail. "Who would build a thing like this right next to an Osuary, am I right? So ... which way are we going to reach the
Dice Random Oss Secret Roll:
1d6 3
(3)God? Oh wait did I forget to tell you about the God? Nevermind, that can wait till we reach the other side of the Pit of Despair!


 
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Old Jun 12th, 2024, 10:36 PM
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One toe down, Aphrodite scowled. Or she would have scowled, had she possessed any of the required facial muscles. Aphrodite stared blankly, but her pale, osseous visage nonetheless managed to convey her dissatisfaction with one of the options. "Trolls are disgusting." Then one of the spiderlings nesting inside her head crawled across her wig and seemed to scuttle in agreement.

Doc scratched at his beard thoughtfully. Or he would have, had he in fact possessed a beard. Being a skeleton was all around difficult in terms of body language. He briefly wondered if he might be able to borrow Aphrodite's wig later and turn it into a beard. It would definitely help with looking thoughtful. But for now, they needed a decision.

"Trolls may be disgusting. But hammers are skeletons' natural predators. I'm sure we can sneak past th-" He cut himself off and looked down at Oss. The skeletal dog was wagging his tail with such ferocity that the sound produced was not unlike a band of caffeine addicts at a castanet festival. "Must you do that?"

"Do what?" Oss cocked his head to one side, then started following after Doc, his claws and bony feet against the stone only adding to the cacophony.

Doc blinked (except for the whole no eyelids thing) and turned back to Aphrodite. "Nevermind. Let's go take a look at that bridge, shall we?"


left-aligned image
The Smith's Bridge spanned the Pit of Despair with an aura so grim and foreboding that our skeletal protagonists felt quite at home. Giant stone automata flanked the passage, rhythmically pounding the structure with their gigantic hammers.

"Okay," said Doc. "All we have to do is time ourselves." He didn't swallow heavily, because... ya know. Skeleton. Aphrodite went first, bouffant coiffe flouncing immaculately as she strolled across the bridge. Despite her missing toe, she seemed to have absolutely no difficulty getting across. Turning back, she watched as Doc also effortlessly threaded himself between the Smiths' hammer blows, riding the bridge's vibration like a seasoned mariner striding the boards of a wave-tossed caravel. Oss, for his part, didn't even seem to notice as he bounded along behind the two skeleton adventurers.

Safely across, Doc took a moment to peer down into the Pit of Despair, wondering what exactly was down there. He shrugged as expressively as he could. Now they'd never know, but at least they were that much closer to the treasure, and... He turned back to the skeletal hound that now accompanied him.

"What was that about a god you mentioned?" He crossed his arms... well, arm plus scimitar-arm-replacement, across his chest. "Speak."


 
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Old Jun 14th, 2024, 06:47 PM
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The cadaverous canine trotted to Doc’s heel before dropping to a sit with a clack. “Oh, that,” he began abstractedly, before quickly rising again to sniff at the air. “You know, gods? Deities? Superhuman beings”sniff sniff“or spirits”sniff“worshipped as having power over nature and human affairs?” Oss’s orbitals almost appeared to narrow, so absorbing was his sudden interest in the olfactive qualities of the air beyond the Smith’s Bridge. “Do you smell that?” he asked, and unceremoniously loped away, leaving the good Doctor and Aphrodite to follow in his tail’s clattering wake.

The Pit of Despair safely behind them, the sound of the automata’s great hammer-blows dropped from a bone-rattling clang to a gentle, increasingly distant tolling. The perilous sense of yawning space that had characterized the Pit narrowed as the skeletons dogged their companion, proceeding down a long, stony hall. Oss scampered on, pausing every few moments to sniff cautiously at the air. The passage terminated abruptly in a spiral stairway, coiling tightly up and away, its upper landing out of view. Oss continued absently, “Set in righteous opposition to all manner of nastiness—imps, demons, and—”

“What the devil?!” An unfamiliar voice, hushed and urgent, came echoing down the stair toward the skeletons. A weak, orange glow rounded the curve and stopped, wobbling over the steps. Another voice hissed, “Extinguish the lamp, quick!” The first replied in a harsh whisper: “Oh, boy. Here we go. Yes, yes, we all know you have darkvision, but I need the damn lamp!” Oss and the skeletons froze, waiting expectantly at the foot of the stairway.

From above, Doc and Aphrodite could make out snippets of conversation—a contentious back-and-forth regarding marching order and the strangers’ relative powers of dexterity, mostly. At length, the lamplight began to ooze closer. A cluster of humanoid faces, stacked one atop the other like some fleshy totem, followed, inching around the stair’s central column. The party gaped at the skeletons.

right-aligned image
There were four of them in total, each decked in pristine armor and encumbered (if anyone bothered to track such things) with absurd bundles of kit. Affixed to their bulging packs Aphrodite spied, among other things, rope, bedrolls, pots, steel mirrors, waterskins, collapsible ladders, pitons, and—inexplicably—a 10-foot pole.

“I wanna rage,” grated the largest of the bunch, running a calloused thumb over the blade of his wicked-looking axe. “Leeeeeroy Jenkins.”

“If we double-back,” muttered another from beneath a shock of limp, greasy bangs, “can I sneak-attack from the shadows?”

The robed half-elf at the bottom of the pile consulted a battered tome bearing the gilded inscription Complete & Unabridged Book of Rules Law. “Well, actually,” she groused, “you don’t need advantage if another enemy of the target is within five feet.”

“Shut up, all of you!” barked the last, carefully producing a finely-crafted platerspiel and wetting his lips. “I roll to seduce the one in the wig.”

It seemed Doc and Aphrodite weren’t the only fledgling adventurers in this dungeon. Village. Whatever.


 
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Old Jun 19th, 2024, 11:00 AM
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A tale of two parties
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Doc and Aphrodite looked in amazement as the cocky half-elf took his platerspiel in one hand and a coin in the other. "Here goes nothing!" he announced while given the coin an impressive spin as it described a mesmerising arc through the air. Before it had time to land on the stones at the bottom of the spiral staircase, the platerspiel started producing some kind of sound, while the player was contorting himself to look at the coin. "Heads!!" he somehow tooted through his instrument, and then, "Why aren't they dancing?"
Far from answering his question, his three companions started discovering that dancing uncontrollably while standing on a spiral staircase is not the best of ideas. Startled, the bard stopped playing. "It wasn't supposed to be this way. But I stopped playing; you can stand still now."

Flipping pages while boucing down the steps the greasy-haired one nodded his satisfaction to a beat that only he could hear. "Another 30 minutes it says here. And also, the platerspiel only affects living creatures. They look ehhh is that dead or undead?" More pages were flipped but his turn in the limelight was over. The barbarian danced up with an axe-dance that was as impressive as it was destructive for stairs, central column, walls, and floor alike. "Next time listen and just attack!" he roared, " or else it's chop-chop ... for you!"

"I'm liking this adventure," said Doc, "These performers are highly entertaining. But I think we should try to get that ... thing that makes sound. It seems useful." Aphrodite nodded her agreement and caught a cervical vertebra that came loose. Doc pushed it in its place casually as he flexed his ... well, no, as he straightened his limbs. "Let's get it while that human axe-mill is far, I don't want my femur ground to bonemeal."

Doc clacked up to the musician, said "Booo!" and slashed him over the chest with his scimitar. "That hurts!" wailed the bard, not used to being booed. Seeing that he still stood, Oss and Aphrodite came to doc's support. She punched the man where it hurt, in his heart, and just like that he fell over, his Platerspiel tumbling on the ground. "Run for your life!" they heard behind them as the remains of the living party waltzed off the scene, accompanied by heavy axe blows.
right-aligned image

Aphrodite picked up the instrument, shrugged and gave it to doc. "Stop looking at that creatures bones, there's ... there's ... flesh on them," she said with disgust. "Better take this, I can't blow it, I have no lungs.". The bard also had a nicely wrapped package, tied so securely that she couldn't open the knot for lack of fingernails. This package she brought with her. "Yes, adventuring is fun," she said, "Now let's go up those stairs and see what wonders await us there."



 

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Old Jun 20th, 2024, 10:48 PM
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Skeleton adventurers Doc and Aphrodite traverse the dungeon with their skeletal dog Oss


Well, it looked like you'd be fighting the fleshies but now, they're dancing? No skin off your eh, never mind. Still, they stand in your way out of your dead-end job standing guard over the Wizard's treasury while he's off on amazingly-exciting adventures. This is what you want too, is it not? To find and traverse a human dungeon, gather strange and dangerous artifacts to win you fame and renown. So, Doc, you slash your scimitar arm across the chest of the one making all the noise through the thing this rival group called a platerspiel. Disgusting fluids began to drip from him.

Aphrodite, you give the wounded bard a fist-bump that proves to be far too much for such a soft, squishy being. He crumples to the ground and makes a reddish puddle amongst the mold and lichen. You grab the dropped instrument, it looks like a flute of sorts with a funny sack attached. Hard to play without lungs but you've got a head full of spiders to help figure it out. You also snatch a neatly wrapped package while the other three lament their sudden loss through intricate footwork and lurid shimmying.

You could stay and pummel the others until they stop gyrating but that isn't much of an adventure, is it? Besides, flailing around like they are the traps will handle them. As you turn to continue your journey, ever onward and upward, you hear the short one in the dark cloak sob, "He was the only man I could ever love." The bearded one with a pointy hat and hefty tome cries, with a shaky voice, "He was too beautiful for this world, I swear when this stops I'll burn it all down!" The big woman with the axe continues thrashing around violently and screaming incomprehensibly. Best to keep moving.

The stairs curve up, up, and up. It's slow going but you don't hear anyone following. The bearded fleshie said thirty minutes, if you had the knowledge and means to tell time that might be helpful.

right-aligned image
The entrance to the Wizard's Dungeon is a great yawning skull, how original

Finally, you reach the top of the stairs and find a large chamber. It's the first room of the Wizard's dungeon and it's strewn with piles of ash and various bits of viscera and gore from the zombies and rats that once resided here. Humans are always making a mess. That's none of your concern now as you're going on an adventure! Oss clacks out a bark and trots toward the antechamber that leads to The Outside.

Sunlight pours in through the opening, and motes of dust dancing lazily suspended in the beams are ignorant of your presence. The three of you step out together, feeling the sun's warm touch on your old bones. If you had eyes, you'd need to shade them from the aggressive rays but you don't. The entrance itself is a great and yawning skull, becaause of course it is. Your Wizard likes what they like. A vast blue ceiling hangs far overhead with soft clouds moving slowly across. In the distance you see shapes. Structures. The Human Dungeon!

The bright ball of fire hangs just off-center in the sky, if you knew human measurement of time you'd think it was afternoon. You'd also expect the dancing party to be snapping out of it right about now. As you rattle and clatter closer to the Human Dungeon, you notice several smaller structures dotted along the edges with bigger ones inside. Smack dab in the middle is the largest "room". Probably the vault, no? There is movement in the fields of growing things near the smaller "rooms". Humanoid shapes going about the tasks of maintaining their dungeon. Where do you go now, Aphrodite and Doc? Oss will follow you wherever.
Do you go directly to challenge the Boss, like some maniac adventurer? Or, do you creep in to look at the minions and plot, like a crafty thief?


 
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Old Jun 23rd, 2024, 10:03 PM
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Skeleton adventurers Doc and Aphrodite
on an adventure with their skeletal dog Oss
Doc would have whistled if he had the appropriate accoutrement, but he didn’t so he mostly just rasped in appreciation of the human dungeon beyond the horizon, his big-boned partner Aphrodite and loyal but lazy boned hound Oss in tow.

"Bleedin’ dumb ta put a forge up inna bleedin’ ceiling, eh Doc," rattled Aphrodite.

"Hmm, I believe it's called a Light Orb, my dear. Good source of calcium, or so I've heard," remarked Doc sagely. He had after all skimmed through some of the Wizard’s books before they were burned in the fireplace.

"Anyway! You realize we’re bone-afied adventurers now, yes? Ha-Hah!"

Aphrodite grunted, meaning she ground her teeth for a few seconds. Guess she didn’t find the joke very humerus.

left-aligned image
The bustling human dungeon,
several humans tending to their various dungeony workings
"Ahem. Do you see that big room in the center there? Just a little to the left of the fleshies tending to their plots of fauna? Yes, that tall one that's blowing off smoke at the top. Why, I daresay that would be the vault, yes? Where all the treasures are kept, of course! How should we approach then, hmm?"

"I ain't got eyeballs but I ain't blind, Doc. Hrm... Too many meatbags. Can’t have all of ‘em dancin’, pity. Think we should use th’ amulet?"

"I think that would have an even much narrower area of effect, Aphrodite. Oooh. See one of those small um… rooms? I guess they’re rooms, right? With their own roofs, how odd. Yes, well, I think those are human clothes hanging outside. We should grab some and disguise ourselves, blend in with the crowd, yes?"

"An’ Oss?"

"Oh, I’m sure the intelligent little creature can find nooks and crannies to hide behind. Well, shall we then?"
"
Raid th’ dungeon fer costumes? Ah whatever. We can jis’ use th’ bagpipe if yer little plan fails anyway. Heh."


"Ficklespiel," corrected Doc absently as they made their way through the dungeon.


 
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Old Jun 25th, 2024, 09:29 AM
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With these disguises the fleshies won't suspect a thing!
Being such a worldly and wise skeleton, Doctor Bones would surely have been gladdened by the proof of what he had known all along; skeletons were naturally superior to fleshies. As he and his long-time friend, more recent accomplice, Aphrodite, stole stealthily into the human dungeon, with its oddly open aspect filled with rooms each with their own individual roofs, the proof was all around him. Far from being locked safely in trapped chests, guarded by faithful oozes or highly-trained attack spiders, the human treasures had been left out in the open, some dangling tauntingly from bits of rope strung criss-cross over open patches of mud and green-stuff. The first time our intrepid duo made to snatch a pair of britches from one of these lines, they spent a good while examining the area for traps, certain that the humans must have concealed a crossbow or some kind of explosive device nearby. Far from it, however, the items of clothing were simply left there, perhaps discarded… or perhaps part of some kind of fleshy ritual? An offering to their squishy gods? Doc tapped his skull in thought until Aphrodite politely nudged him onward. Soon afterward both skeletons were clad from skull to phalanges in human clothing. They would blend right in!

But what about Oss? The faithful hound watched them dubiously, head cocked to the left and the remaining cartilage of his ears dangling disgustingly. The plan was for the dog to sneak, fitting his small frame into any available shadow, but as they approached the vault in the centre of the dungeon, this was proving ever more tricky. The problem was the blasted 'light orb' which the humans had positioned high above, way up in their blue ceiling. No stone that either skeleton threw could reach the damned thing, and Oss got so excited trying to find and return the first few they tried that they very nearly got discovered.

"Oss, stay!" Aphrodite commanded. The dog humphed, but he would do as he was told. For now. "I reck'n we 'ave 'bout five minutes 'fore he comes a-lookin' fer us."

"Long enough," Doc replied confidently. Surely with these disguises they would be in and out of the vault in far less time!

Approaching the large room in the centre of the dungeon, both skeletons were given pause by what they could hear from within; a wild screeching overlaid with the shouts and jeers of a crowd. What were they walking in to? Girding their pelvises, they pushed open the rude wooden door and strode in.

left-aligned image
Oh no! The barbarian, rogue and wizard are here!
Inside they found a large open room, filled all around the edges with humans. A space had been cleared in the centre where small groups of the fleshies were throwing each other around in some kind of mad frenzy. At the far end of the room three humans were making some form of 'music' with rude instruments... and in front of them, glinting in a ray of light, lay their prize; the sacred Scroll of All Knowledge, without which the tribe had no way of generating infinite pictures to colour-in, dooming them to centuries of endless tedium. They would soon reclaim it from these foul fleshy thieves!

"BAH HA HA HAAA!" a booming voice rose over the cacophony. A familiar voice, one they had heard only too recently. It could only be… Muscles McGee, the fleshy barbarian. And if he was here, that had to mean… yes! On the cleared floor and spinning closer they came; McGee, Skinbag John, the rogue, and the devious wizard, Encephalous! Fortunately they were either so caught up in their manic gyrations, or so fooled by the skeletons' cunning disguises, that they had so far failed to notice the intruders. It was also fortunate that their other henchman, Tresses O'Gould, had already been dealt with as she would likely have been sitting with the rest of the band, with a perfect view of the door. This good luck could only hold for so long, however; they would have to make their move now.

Quickly assessing the situation, the duo could see that they had two options; fight… or dance!


 
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