[ORP] Nothing to Sneeze At (MINIBOSS PG 18!!)

[medigel]

Beejoux

"I trust these spores will be absolutely harmless to us? Even the most helpless of us?

It was only then that Shik took notice of what Nergui held in her arms. Eyes narrowing as he looked the scareling over, he finally leapt off his stone perch and alighted on the sandy floor.

"What do you take us for?" he asked in return, snorting. "If you are so concerned about your charge, consider a sitter. Or will you now always be burdened by her wants and needs?" The horseman didn't strictly dislike children--only the fact that they tended to be distractions. It was one of several reasons he and Shaheen had never really chosen to create one of their own: out of well rooted, ambitious hunger that these things (and indeed Shik viewed the foal as such) could not satisfy.

Catching Shaheen's eye, he nodded in return. Now was as good a time as any to proceed.
 

[Yayoi]

It took an awkward second or two of dead air to realize the Death Priestess was talking to her. Falair had been scribbling away so intently that she had perhaps intentionally blocked out what was going on.

Her head jerked up in Nergui's direction, moving from her face to the outstretched hand and back to her face. The mare was never good with introductions. They were always awkward and the last thing that generally came about with any new interactions. She could hold an entire conversation if she wanted without even uttering who she was until the very end.

Reaching out to take the Priestess' hand she gave a small nod of acknowledgement. The beads of bone and gold in her blue hair clinking together with her movement. "Falair Saab."

Seussi

Eight

Beejoux

 

[Eight]

The relief in the way Na'ima sighed when clarified that Valdis was not Wrath's spawn was clear. But then she was frowning again, leaning in to whisper, "why are you so excited to be holding a filly who is not yours?" Could it be...Wrath liked children? Ugh, no. Did he want them? Please, no.

Seussi

 

[medigel]

Shik crossed his arms as well, bristling at the interruption. "Do you presume to think we aren't prepared to contain them? That an Elder of Famine isn't?" he asked with a glare. "Take yourself and your child elsewhere if you have such doubts about our operation. We have neither time nor patience to coddle your new broodmare priorities, not if it means these inane questions."

Beejoux

 

[medigel]

Shaheen touched his shoulder before more could be spat out, giving him a firm look before she turned to the group. "We will remain here for now. The Elder will guide you."

With a motion, the aforementioned Famine alchemist, a tall pile of tan rags and golden bells, stepped into the scattered light with a soft chime. Beckoning the group to follow, they disappeared into one of the many winding tunnels. The stench that grew the longer they walked was overwhelming for those not used to wading through Famine's halls: overripe meat, rotten plants, and all manner of living, dead, and suspended somewhere in between items that were stored there filled the area with a unique odor. Soon enough, however, the smell began to lessen.

The Elder awaited them at the entrance to one of the many rooms available at the oasis observatory where, as its name implied, a large oasis filled most of the space. Various other Famine horsemen were busy with their own projects, though they passed a glance at the odd group assembled there as they made their own way. It was almost reminiscent of a quaint marketplace with the foot traffic, ambient noise, and one-minded focus to gather, control, and toy with.

The alchemist gestured for them to enter the burrow they would be borrowing for the day. The same fetid stench lingered in the room from long past experiments, though unlike the tunnels, the shelves were bare. For the volunteers today, someone had already set up many stations, each equipped with surgical mask of thicker substance than most, gloves, assorted small tools to cut, dice, excise, and so on, and a clear bowl of what looked like dust but which shifted ever so slightly; each was currently sealed so that it remained undisturbed. Near one corner was a coat rack of long, well-worn work coats, for those who preferred to work more bundled up.

The Elder waited expectantly until all were properly prepared before beginning their lecture.

STAGE 1

GATHER MATERIALS

Creating spores is a delicate process, the elder Famine alchemist reminds you. Too much Fear, and you might create a plague; too little, and your creation may not survive long enough to find a host. A careful balance must be struck between the two to create what the War horsemen ask for.

The beginning of any great endeavor, of course, begins with resources. And in the conservatory, there's plenty to be found and experiment with. If there's one thing Famine prides itself on, it's finding scraps and creating a masterpiece from them. The spore will accept a great variety of additions, thankfully, due to its neutral nature; thus it falls upon the horseman to decide what would best suit their vision.

Roll 1d12 five times to see what you gather. You may choose to roll all 5 in one post. You may also trade with others if you prefer other materials to work with, and you may also gather more than 5 materials if you wish.

1. A handful of moist algae
2. A jar of grounded minipet bones
3. A vividly pigmented plant that fits in your palm
4. A colorful bottle of crushed insects
5. A vial of human blood
6. A small bag of minipet droppings
7. A rotting claw/talon/finger, gladly given by a Scavenger on the move
8. A pouch of sand from the Sahara
9. Tree sap still clinging to the bark it had been scraped from
10. A forgotten flask of venom (extracted from a snake/spider/etc.)
11. A discarded scrap of animal pelt with flecks of dried blood
12. A handful of fresh seeds

Once gathered, return to your the observatory room station. The Elder provides you with a large mortar and pestle to mix and crush your materials, should you wish. They leave the exact measure of each component to your discretion, as the materials are less a necessary specific and more a medium for your Fear to act through, meld, and form. It is also up to you if there is any additional needs for you to better meditate and focus, such as a mantra or your own personal addition to the mixture.

Then, unseal the bowl and carefully add your materials to the budding spores. Consider what you have gathered and their purpose--what it is to create disease and set it upon the world, to spread Fear and paranoia like an infection--and pour your Fear into your concoction.

Famine Clan rolls 1d6. All others roll 1d10. You have unlimited rolls.

Upon rolling a 1, your particular mixture begins to react to your Fear and changes color. It seems to shudder, contracting and expanding slightly like a living heart as it puffs out pollen at the lightest breeze or breath. The Elder walks over, gives it a sniff, and after a small cough they nod at you in satisfaction. It's probably best that neither you nor your neighbor breathe it in...

This is the last chance for people to enter the thread! Simply assume your horseman was at the gathering in time for introductions/to be led along.
THIS STAGE WILL LAST FOR ~72 HOURS

show spoilerhide spoiler

xxlurks beneath

xxYayoi

xxchirigami

xxEight

xxSmerdle

xxBaneful

xxkuropeco

xxEnoh Love

xxCarhop Cavalier

xxhanging gallow

xxProlixity

xxbaby_gwing

xxBeejoux

 

[Seussi]

One moment it seemed as though they might be ready to move on and actually begin, but in the next, with Nergui's question, things began to derail slightly. Shaheen bristled at this, though kept her discontent in check with features that were schooled to remain smooth and blank when need be. While at first she was confused by the disagreement between Shikoba and Nergui, it did not take long for her to piece together just what was going on, and while she did agree with her mate, she also knew that this disruption needed to be resoloved quickly if they were going to be making any headway, thus the hand to his shoulder, and the firm way she bid him to cease.

As the other horsmen began to file out, she leaned in close to him to hiss in his ear. "Perhaps a bit unwise to pick a fight with a new mother. They are often viciously overprotective, and more than a little hormonal." She smirked, while an arm slid around her partner and she leaned against him, lightly butting her head against his.

"Otherwise I think this is going well."

medigel

 

[baby_gwing]

Wan Ru blinked. While Jin's aloofness, disinterest and disregard for everything other than his precious insects wasn't new to her by now, learning that it extended to even those of the Famine clan that he belonged to was new and intriguing. Even more so to one from the Conquest clan like herself which had its own set of rules, hierarchy and customs that she had to be mindful of at all times.

"Is this how you and your family have always lived? Does nothing else at all matter if it isn't an insect or associated with one?"

She might have wanted to say more but stilled her tongue when both Shaheen and Shikoba appeared to introduce themselves to all who had gathered and provide some preliminary information on the deviousness of what they had in mind. A special spore that would infect the very humans who had the means to oppose them and meddle with their plans. How lovely. She would of course want to be a part of this.

Smiling sweetly at Jin, she tried to take hold of one of his wrists, intent on keeping him close lest he found himself a chance to slip back to his quarters. "Come along now. Don't you want to see how this wonderful spore is going to work on those hunters after we've successfully helped with creating it?" She chirruped, a slight bounce in her gait as she tugged the Famine horseman along after the alchemist who was leading the group through the halls to the burrow where everything that they would need had been prepared for them.

Wrinkling her nose at the putrid stench that she would probably never get used to, she released Jin to head towards the coat rack to help herself to one of the work coats, tugging on a surgical mask that thankfully allowed her to breathe more easily before slapping on a pair of gloves and grabbing a bowl to begin retrieving the materials from what was avail to them.

Materials Gathered

3. A vividly pigmented plant that fits in your palm
8. A pouch of sand from the Sahara
9. Tree sap still clinging to the bark it had been scraped from x 2
11. A discarded scrap of animal pelt with flecks of dried blood

hanging gallow

 

[Eight]

Wrath was too absorbed into the foal's presence to even answer her. Even the hand flick had her backing off with a look of confusion. Why was he acting like this? Her eyes narrowed. She'd figure this out later, for now she had an Elder Alchemist to follow. One last look was cast back in Wrath's direction before he was out of sight.

It wasn't difficult for her to find ingredients she was pleased with. Though the pelt was useless to her. She'd find something to do with these..

((Human blood x2
Crushed insects
Bloody pelt
Minipet droppings))  

[Yayoi]

Finally.

All this standing around and introductions and baby nonsense was over. Falair was glad and eager to follow along in the group. Na'ima would probably be along soon enough once she was done being preoccupied with the Death mare's filly that her Death stallion was holding.

She was ready to cast aside these frivelous things and get down to work. Living in on the Famine floor she was used to the smell. It didn't even register to her. But most smells didn't now a days. Her mask was always heavily scented and worked as an air filter comparative to a human gas mask. The mare had designed it that way so that while attractive to look it, it served a dual purpose.

Once they were turned loose she quickly went into work mode. Gathering her resources. It brought back many memories of late nights working with her past mentor. Somewhat bitter sweet. But there was no time to dwell on that now.

Returning to the station she placed all her materials into the mortar and began to grin it down. This was all second nature to her.

Quote:

A colorful bottle of crushed insects
A rotting claw/talon/finger, gladly given by a Scavenger on the move
A small bag of minipet droppings x 2
Tree sap still clinging to the bark it had been scraped from

 

[Smerdle]

Mmur wasn't stupid exactly. He just had his own moral code that included commandments like scaring humans is fun, killing humans is mean, and hunters should die as often and painfully as can be managed. Seeing as how no one had actually mentioned using the spores on regular old cattle, he wasn't opposed to helping, for now.

He followed along silently, faint dragonfly wings fading in and out behind him as he strolled. He would try his best at this alchemy business, and if the war clansmen ended up using his results on regular humans somewhere down the line, he'd deal with the consequences then.

Heading into the conservatory, Mmur gathered the items he felt were particularly potent for no other reason than they felt right. He supposed it was as good a reason as any? He then brought his ingredients to the mortar and pestle, grinding the miscellaneous talon and minipet bones to a fine powder, then adding the bright red plant and mashing until he was left with a chalky pink paste. The venom came last, its acidic qualities smoothing his viscous glop. Mmur hoped they had a good way to hide this. He had a feeling magenta slime would be a little obvious.

Quote:

a rotting claw/talon/finger, gladly given by a scavenger on the move; a jar of grounded minipet bones (x2); a forgotten flask of venom (extracted from a snake/spider/etc.); a vividly pigmented plant that fits in your palm

 

[Carhop Cavalier]

Uttam leveled the heartiest glare he could muster at the War pair, sneering and recoiling when Shaheen passed by him, her wings brushing up against him. Vile, murderous things, drenched in innocent blood. He was a dissenter to most of them, and his opinions on the humans were largely unshared, but there were some few among the clans who could see the big picture. Some of them saw that genocide was a short term solution to their long term problem; the FEAR source would be completely eradicated, should the clans continue on their path.

Shaheen and Shikoba were not those kind of people. Narrow minded, high seated pawns of some mare who claimed herself a god. Their little speech through and the time for questions over, Uttam ignored the summons of the Elder and stalked to the couple, taming his expression to neutral dissatisfaction.

"A word, may I?" The soldier leveled a crimson eye at them, continuing before given permission - he didn't need their's. "I know you intend this spore for the Hunters, a fine thought. They are not innocents, but murderous fiends." Like yourselves, Uttam didn't add. "But, you see, they go out into the world. Among the humans, often. Can you know that this spore will only affect them?"

He paused, tapping his feet, bangles and bracers clanking and tingling. "If the cattle are infected as well, then I'm afraid I cannot be a part of this. A good farmer doesn't infect his herd." Uttam's voice grew more quiet, he stood upright, face complete stone. "I know you have plenty of pawns to blindly follow you, brainwashed into thinking only of death and destruction. But poison the herds, touch the innocents, and I promise you - it will not go unforgiven."

medigel

seussi

 

[Baneful]

(( Just addressing the things to bring me up to date, will roll next post ))
Liang look absolutely pleased at the other horseman's approval of his hobbies, always a little anxious that a famine clan member would be completely vindicated in telling him to mind his own business and keep his nose out of their specialities. To find himself encouraged only heartened him greatly.

He laughed at the bright playful insult from Falair and smiled at Salbei's excusing of this, used to very serious formality and not used to much jesting and as a result finding it pretty hilarious and difficult to resist the urge for further laughter. He suppressed it out of a desire not to be rude down to just a big smile.

The black beetle was taken with nimble and elegant claws and inspected with open fascination. "Beautiful." he said with approval. "It should make a most elegant formal necklace or the centrepiece of a sweeping robe."

The meeting got underway and he simply listened as politely as he could, asking no questions of his own but listening to the others. It was one thing to speak to other horseman kin and another to speak up in front of those with authority and draw attention to his ignorance.

A familiar voice spoke up a little further away from where he stood and he let out a quiet little huff of disapproval, of course Xala would say whatever she liked, whether or not it made any sense at all.

The planning going on all sounded very elaborate and lethal and he should likely have been pleased at the brutal mental images of suffering and pain that the hunters would have to go through, and he certainly tried to be, remembering the pain at losing everything he had ever had and ultimately his sister, but it was hard to take pleasure in something which veered so sharply from beauty. It sounded like a necessary thing but perhaps not something he wanted to idolise or something which would make a glorious tapestry.

The ongoing argument only made him aware of the rising and falling of his chest.

The conflict was short lived as an alchemist elder arrived to lead the collective group through the tunnels to the oasis where they were encouraged to get a hands on experience in crafting a spore. This interested and excited the young Artisan of Conquest, alchemy was simply another art form and this at least would not be ugly.

Enoh Love

Prolixity

Toshihiko Two

 

[Baneful]

(( Ignore this post, I accidentally made a new post instead of editing. ))  

[Toshihiko Two]

Xala whickered in disappointment, but made an A-OK sign. "Right, just want us to whip up a billion batches. Got it."

Still, it seemed like they sure were leaving a lot of ingredienting up to the general populace. She squinted suspiciously at the Elder, surprised they were even letting that much go up to interpretation. Maybe they wouldn't mind a...little more interpretation. How much time did they have? If only she could just...pop out for a bit. Fetch a clay oven to bury in the sand, get a little sugar and eggs...

She got the most floury stuff she could find, taking two jars of wholemeal bone, a little sand, and a plant for coloring. The pelt hadn't been cleaned very well, and she could still scrape a few hunks of meat and blood off.

Xala tied an apron into a perky bow behind her, only regretting they didn't have anything fresh to work with. No super cute organs. No flustered squeals. Everything was dissected, dry, and already carefully separated.