BlazeStryker
<Confirmed Contradiction>
- Location
- Roanoke, VA
- Pronouns
- Him/He/Dude
You would say that, lol!Just ask Ianthe to do it. Problem solved
With her luck, of course, Amy would end up visited by The Amy.
Scaling Up
- Thread starter Kryslin
- Start date
With her luck, of course, Amy would end up visited by The Amy.
GuesssWho
To Assemble A Name From Scars
- Location
- People's Republic of Treacle Mine Road
- Pronouns
- She/Her
So if you guys could become a dragon hybrid like this Taylor did, what would you go for? I think I'd choose black/silver, I like the cold and blacks have the whole amphibious thing going for them. Plus I have this image of jet black scales with silver edges that's really cool in my head.
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
For a somewhat amusing take on the subject, read Bahamut and Tiamat Answer Their Mail.
The initial premise was "You've become a dragon, you have questions. What are they?" I redacted the names to protect the guilty.
The initial premise was "You've become a dragon, you have questions. What are they?" I redacted the names to protect the guilty.
GuesssWho
To Assemble A Name From Scars
- Location
- People's Republic of Treacle Mine Road
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Very cool! I still don't know who wants to be what, mind youFor a somewhat amusing take on the subject, read Bahamut and Tiamat Answer Their Mail.
The initial premise was "You've become a dragon, you have questions. What are they?" I redacted the names to protect the guilty.
BlazeStryker
<Confirmed Contradiction>
- Location
- Roanoke, VA
- Pronouns
- Him/He/Dude
The back of my mind had the background change to festive hues with mariachi music playing as I read this.
Conventions 15 - Down to the Wire...
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
Kryslin was down on the ground floor helping take care of the wounded. Several people had been beaten, an even split between convention goers whom the terrorists didn't consider human (or human enough or were just in their way) and terrorists who'd run afoul of convention goers, like the two practitioners of Ansatsuken Karate who were enjoying the convention and had disagreed with the terrorists. The two showed significant restraint, only dislocating shoulders and breaking bones.
There were some of the other unusual attendees down there helping as well. The young British man and his daughter were going around, either using military first aid training — Kryslin had done enough teaching of those courses to recognize it — or the girl's power, which made people relax, sleep and remain calm. The five tail kitsune, his wife, was also going around, helping where she could, getting information from people, or helping hand out snacks and drinks.
Spirit, currently busy stitching up a particularly bad wound on a young man, was the one who first sensed that something was about to happen. Kryslin tensed and followed Spirit's line of sight when the latter's head came up to lock on one of the entryways. That was when a bunch of gun toting idiots came in from the parking ramp and sprayed automatic weapon fire into the air.
"Everyone DOWN!" one yelled.
Everyone except three lay down on the ground. Kryslin stood and faced the men. Lieutenant Potter stood and faced them as well. Spirit kept stitching up the patient she was working on.
"I said DOWN!"
And with that, he aimed at Spirit, along with six of his cohorts.
From Harry's point of view, there was a blur of motion and gunfire; 9mm from the MP-5 knockoffs the terrorists were using, and something that was close to the 5.56mm that he'd used in basic training for the JMSDF. Seven men dropped and lay still, and Kryslin looked pissed, her sidearm still smoking and her body armor showing several hits.
It was at that point he got his shield charm up, cast without wand or voice.
From Kryslin's viewpoint, she could see everything in slow motion. By the time the lead goon's finger pulled the trigger, she had her sidearm out, safety off, and selector over to full auto. She had also moved to interpose herself between the incoming fire and her mate.
Superhuman speed and reflexes allowed her to place one shot, and then adjust her aim as the weapon cycled. She didn't flinch as the first rounds hit her armor, a couple hitting unprotected areas but doing nothing more than flattening against her skin.
She knew exactly where she'd hit each of the seven men, and knew that none would be getting back up again. The leader had a neat hole between his eyes, a couple were bleeding out from where the bullet had opened up the jugular vein. Another had the round penetrate the roof of the goon's open mouth. The remainder had taken the shot to the heart or aortic arch.
Seven men were dead in seconds.
There was a shout in some strange tongue, and suddenly Lt. Potter had all the guns formerly in the possession of the surviving terrorists.
And then those attackers that remained alive fell over. This was accompanied by the frightening growl of Harry's daughter. "Mou, I made them forget they were awake." Her voice was far colder than any Kryslin had heard from someone that young.
The authorities chose that moment to come in from the street and take control of the situation.
Kryslin sighed. "Great, more paperwork."
"At least you were doing the right thing," Spirit said as shi finished hir work on the young man before hir. "And it looks like I owe you another one."
"Who said we're keeping track?" Kryslin answered. "I'd better go and give my statement and my camera footage to those PRT people before they get pushy."
Naurelin was in the air, soaring in the night sky above the violence happening below. Cheetah had given her a list of options that would keep her helping, but out of the fight – theoretically. As a Ward, she was supposed to not be involved in altercations like the firefight happening below.
Which pretty much described the usual, day-to-day life on the streets of Brockton Bay. Or, perhaps, the slightly overenthusiastic night life of her hometown. At least she wasn't getting shot at…
Too late. She heard the dull sound of a copper jacketed round flattening against one of her scutes, the large scales that protected her somewhat more vulnerable underside. A quick word or two and she brought her Bullet Ward up, and then her Mage Armor, giving her the effective protection of a tank.
"Console, this is Naurelin," she called in. "Taking small arms fire from a parking ramp one block east of the hotel."
"Console copies. Team seventeen is on site and engaging."
From her vantage point, she could see and hear the idiots on the top of the parking garage become distracted from the dragon flying overhead. The two dozen PRT and Atlanta Police officers were a more pressing concern. Like pressing them face first into the concrete, law enforcement having no fucks left to give anymore.
"Naurelin, Console. Be advised, there have been sightings of technicals with heavy weapons in the downtown area." Technicals were a modified truck, usually carrying a heavier weapon in the bed of the truck, kind of like one of Squealer's monstrosities except not as ugly and more lightly armed and armored. The ABB had fielded a few during Bakuda's rampage.
Still dangerous though.
Soon enough, she saw and heard the pair of trucks, and saw them point the very large machine guns in the back up towards her.
A quick push at her Power, and she was in a vertical flight profile, and about 2,000 feet higher. As she reached the apogee of her flight, she cast Invisibility on herself then nosed over into a dive. The use of another spell, and she had two massive steel darts in her forepaws.
She was soon screaming down at better than terminal velocity. Tracers from the heavy machine guns went whizzing by her, the gunners firing blindly and her Power giving them slight nudges away from her as she descended. At about 500 feet, she released the darts, used her Power to translate her vertical flight into a horizontal one, kill most of her forward speed into something her wings could handle, and to guide the darts, each half the size of a telephone pole, through the hoods of each of the trucks.
The first one hit on target, which caused the truck to come to an abrupt stop and push the front end into the pavement, causing the men in the bed of the truck to get violently thrown forward over the vehicle.
The second dart landed just ahead of the other truck, which proceeded to wrap itself around the article with an almighty crash as the driver had slammed on his brakes as soon as he'd seen Naurelin reappear, too late to avoid the collision but early enough to avoid being skewered. Again, the occupants of the vehicle were thrown, but nothing caught fire.
Performing a wingover, she lined up for a pass at much lower altitude. At the right moment, she exhaled, covering the street with her strength-sapping breath weapon. Men began dropping while trying to flee, because she wasn't suppressing her aura.
"Console, Naurelin. Technicals have been suppressed. I may have made a bit of a mess, and the crews of the vehicles plus other perps nearby may need medical assistance."
"We saw, Naurelin. A couple of holes in the pavement is nothing for Atlanta's DPW," the console operator replied. "And good on ya for not using the fire breath."
"I figured you'd appreciate the distinct lack of fire in the downtown area."
Anne found herself in a plain room with warm ambient lighting. There was a rather old style table with a pair of very comfortable looking chairs next to it. On the table was a lacquered tray, upon which was a crystal decanter filled with a golden liquid, and two matching glasses.
Sitting in one chair was a young, attractive woman of average height, pale complexion, and slim build. Her hair was pitch black and rather unkempt, and had something painted under her right eye. At her throat, a silver ankh hung on a leather thong.
Her ensemble was casual, a black tank top and tight fitting jeans, and comfortable looking boots.
"Hello Anne," the stranger said. Her voice was kind and compassionate. "Care to sit for a moment or two, and share a drink?"
Anne closed her eyes and began laughing. "I'll be damned, that Gaiman fellow was right." The laughter soon stopped, and she took a seat across from her host. "Death of the Endless, I presume? Or would you prefer Teleute?"
"Teleute is fine," her host responded, and poured a measure of the golden liquid out of the decanter into the glasses.
Anne took the glass, looked at the beverage within before speaking. "So, If I'm here, talking with you, that means I must have…"
Teleute took a sip of the liquor in her glass. "Yes, and no," she said, setting her glass down. "You're at a point where you'll have to make a choice. And it's not often I get to sit and talk with an author whose books I've enjoyed and share a drink."
Anne took a sip of the liquor in her glass. "It's been a long time since I've had a whiskey this good," she stated. "Thank you." Anne took another sip. "So what is this choice I have to make?"
"I can't say that I don't know," Teleute said, "because I do know what it is." She got an impish grin on her face "I know all and see all. You'll be asked what you want to do by an acquaintance of mine who should be along any minute now, and your answer means you and your daughter either go back to the mortal realm, or succumb to your injuries and move on to what awaits you, whatever that is. Your daughter might choose differently from you, but I doubt it." She took another sip from her glass. "It's quite simple."
Injuries? Oh wait, those unprintable bastards who were looking for anything that didn't meet their definition of human and decided to kill them or anyone who gave them trouble, Anne thought to herself.
"Indeed," Teleute said. "The commotion in the hotel had woke both of you up, and stray fire came through your door. A bullet caught you in the abdomen, and another caught your daughter alongside her head.
"You'll be happy to know, though," she said with a smile, "that everyone involved in creating this horrible waste will get what's coming to them. The ones they were looking to murder are being less than charitable, but still showing great restraint."
"Naurelin," Anne said. "I heard her grumbling about idiots lining up to try and kill a dragon. Don't people know that for every successful dragon slayer, there's a mountain of dead ones?"
"Oh, I know," Teleute agreed. "Ah, our guest has arrived. Hello, Mystra."
"Hello, Teleute," Mystra said. "And hello, Anne."
There were some of the other unusual attendees down there helping as well. The young British man and his daughter were going around, either using military first aid training — Kryslin had done enough teaching of those courses to recognize it — or the girl's power, which made people relax, sleep and remain calm. The five tail kitsune, his wife, was also going around, helping where she could, getting information from people, or helping hand out snacks and drinks.
Spirit, currently busy stitching up a particularly bad wound on a young man, was the one who first sensed that something was about to happen. Kryslin tensed and followed Spirit's line of sight when the latter's head came up to lock on one of the entryways. That was when a bunch of gun toting idiots came in from the parking ramp and sprayed automatic weapon fire into the air.
"Everyone DOWN!" one yelled.
Everyone except three lay down on the ground. Kryslin stood and faced the men. Lieutenant Potter stood and faced them as well. Spirit kept stitching up the patient she was working on.
"I said DOWN!"
And with that, he aimed at Spirit, along with six of his cohorts.
From Harry's point of view, there was a blur of motion and gunfire; 9mm from the MP-5 knockoffs the terrorists were using, and something that was close to the 5.56mm that he'd used in basic training for the JMSDF. Seven men dropped and lay still, and Kryslin looked pissed, her sidearm still smoking and her body armor showing several hits.
It was at that point he got his shield charm up, cast without wand or voice.
From Kryslin's viewpoint, she could see everything in slow motion. By the time the lead goon's finger pulled the trigger, she had her sidearm out, safety off, and selector over to full auto. She had also moved to interpose herself between the incoming fire and her mate.
Superhuman speed and reflexes allowed her to place one shot, and then adjust her aim as the weapon cycled. She didn't flinch as the first rounds hit her armor, a couple hitting unprotected areas but doing nothing more than flattening against her skin.
She knew exactly where she'd hit each of the seven men, and knew that none would be getting back up again. The leader had a neat hole between his eyes, a couple were bleeding out from where the bullet had opened up the jugular vein. Another had the round penetrate the roof of the goon's open mouth. The remainder had taken the shot to the heart or aortic arch.
Seven men were dead in seconds.
There was a shout in some strange tongue, and suddenly Lt. Potter had all the guns formerly in the possession of the surviving terrorists.
And then those attackers that remained alive fell over. This was accompanied by the frightening growl of Harry's daughter. "Mou, I made them forget they were awake." Her voice was far colder than any Kryslin had heard from someone that young.
The authorities chose that moment to come in from the street and take control of the situation.
Kryslin sighed. "Great, more paperwork."
"At least you were doing the right thing," Spirit said as shi finished hir work on the young man before hir. "And it looks like I owe you another one."
"Who said we're keeping track?" Kryslin answered. "I'd better go and give my statement and my camera footage to those PRT people before they get pushy."
= = = = - - - - = = = =
Naurelin was in the air, soaring in the night sky above the violence happening below. Cheetah had given her a list of options that would keep her helping, but out of the fight – theoretically. As a Ward, she was supposed to not be involved in altercations like the firefight happening below.
Which pretty much described the usual, day-to-day life on the streets of Brockton Bay. Or, perhaps, the slightly overenthusiastic night life of her hometown. At least she wasn't getting shot at…
Too late. She heard the dull sound of a copper jacketed round flattening against one of her scutes, the large scales that protected her somewhat more vulnerable underside. A quick word or two and she brought her Bullet Ward up, and then her Mage Armor, giving her the effective protection of a tank.
"Console, this is Naurelin," she called in. "Taking small arms fire from a parking ramp one block east of the hotel."
"Console copies. Team seventeen is on site and engaging."
From her vantage point, she could see and hear the idiots on the top of the parking garage become distracted from the dragon flying overhead. The two dozen PRT and Atlanta Police officers were a more pressing concern. Like pressing them face first into the concrete, law enforcement having no fucks left to give anymore.
"Naurelin, Console. Be advised, there have been sightings of technicals with heavy weapons in the downtown area." Technicals were a modified truck, usually carrying a heavier weapon in the bed of the truck, kind of like one of Squealer's monstrosities except not as ugly and more lightly armed and armored. The ABB had fielded a few during Bakuda's rampage.
Still dangerous though.
Soon enough, she saw and heard the pair of trucks, and saw them point the very large machine guns in the back up towards her.
A quick push at her Power, and she was in a vertical flight profile, and about 2,000 feet higher. As she reached the apogee of her flight, she cast Invisibility on herself then nosed over into a dive. The use of another spell, and she had two massive steel darts in her forepaws.
She was soon screaming down at better than terminal velocity. Tracers from the heavy machine guns went whizzing by her, the gunners firing blindly and her Power giving them slight nudges away from her as she descended. At about 500 feet, she released the darts, used her Power to translate her vertical flight into a horizontal one, kill most of her forward speed into something her wings could handle, and to guide the darts, each half the size of a telephone pole, through the hoods of each of the trucks.
The first one hit on target, which caused the truck to come to an abrupt stop and push the front end into the pavement, causing the men in the bed of the truck to get violently thrown forward over the vehicle.
The second dart landed just ahead of the other truck, which proceeded to wrap itself around the article with an almighty crash as the driver had slammed on his brakes as soon as he'd seen Naurelin reappear, too late to avoid the collision but early enough to avoid being skewered. Again, the occupants of the vehicle were thrown, but nothing caught fire.
Performing a wingover, she lined up for a pass at much lower altitude. At the right moment, she exhaled, covering the street with her strength-sapping breath weapon. Men began dropping while trying to flee, because she wasn't suppressing her aura.
"Console, Naurelin. Technicals have been suppressed. I may have made a bit of a mess, and the crews of the vehicles plus other perps nearby may need medical assistance."
"We saw, Naurelin. A couple of holes in the pavement is nothing for Atlanta's DPW," the console operator replied. "And good on ya for not using the fire breath."
"I figured you'd appreciate the distinct lack of fire in the downtown area."
- - - - = = = = - - - -
Anne found herself in a plain room with warm ambient lighting. There was a rather old style table with a pair of very comfortable looking chairs next to it. On the table was a lacquered tray, upon which was a crystal decanter filled with a golden liquid, and two matching glasses.
Sitting in one chair was a young, attractive woman of average height, pale complexion, and slim build. Her hair was pitch black and rather unkempt, and had something painted under her right eye. At her throat, a silver ankh hung on a leather thong.
Her ensemble was casual, a black tank top and tight fitting jeans, and comfortable looking boots.
"Hello Anne," the stranger said. Her voice was kind and compassionate. "Care to sit for a moment or two, and share a drink?"
Anne closed her eyes and began laughing. "I'll be damned, that Gaiman fellow was right." The laughter soon stopped, and she took a seat across from her host. "Death of the Endless, I presume? Or would you prefer Teleute?"
"Teleute is fine," her host responded, and poured a measure of the golden liquid out of the decanter into the glasses.
Anne took the glass, looked at the beverage within before speaking. "So, If I'm here, talking with you, that means I must have…"
Teleute took a sip of the liquor in her glass. "Yes, and no," she said, setting her glass down. "You're at a point where you'll have to make a choice. And it's not often I get to sit and talk with an author whose books I've enjoyed and share a drink."
Anne took a sip of the liquor in her glass. "It's been a long time since I've had a whiskey this good," she stated. "Thank you." Anne took another sip. "So what is this choice I have to make?"
"I can't say that I don't know," Teleute said, "because I do know what it is." She got an impish grin on her face "I know all and see all. You'll be asked what you want to do by an acquaintance of mine who should be along any minute now, and your answer means you and your daughter either go back to the mortal realm, or succumb to your injuries and move on to what awaits you, whatever that is. Your daughter might choose differently from you, but I doubt it." She took another sip from her glass. "It's quite simple."
Injuries? Oh wait, those unprintable bastards who were looking for anything that didn't meet their definition of human and decided to kill them or anyone who gave them trouble, Anne thought to herself.
"Indeed," Teleute said. "The commotion in the hotel had woke both of you up, and stray fire came through your door. A bullet caught you in the abdomen, and another caught your daughter alongside her head.
"You'll be happy to know, though," she said with a smile, "that everyone involved in creating this horrible waste will get what's coming to them. The ones they were looking to murder are being less than charitable, but still showing great restraint."
"Naurelin," Anne said. "I heard her grumbling about idiots lining up to try and kill a dragon. Don't people know that for every successful dragon slayer, there's a mountain of dead ones?"
"Oh, I know," Teleute agreed. "Ah, our guest has arrived. Hello, Mystra."
"Hello, Teleute," Mystra said. "And hello, Anne."
Oh boy, the dragoning spreads! (Well less dragoning, more magical rebirth as the literal Weave has dicided to get herself a physical herald)
I literally have squeeling going off in my brain at what's happening with Anne!
I really didn't expect Mystra to be the one involved in the choice, though.
I really didn't expect Mystra to be the one involved in the choice, though.
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Sakuya's Butler
A refined Butler to a knife wielding Mistress.
- Location
- ↓, ↘, → + Punch
Which dragon is it that is is one of the extra-planar one that is downright terrifyingly powerful as a mage/sorcerer/etc? One even an aspect of Tiamat or Bahamut would actually be a bit wary about facing?
Crystal or something?
Crystal or something?
Given those at the convention, I'm surprised that several haven't also been eaten.
Technical thoughts on this:
1. While the machine guns may be able to physically fire that far up, depending on how high she was to begin with, it's enough to make hits, even against a large target, a bit like winning the lottery.
2. Even if they manage a hit, a large portion of energy will be lost just climbing that high
3. Invisibility is handy regardless
4. Steel might not be as nasty as, say, Depleted Uranium or Tungsten, but the dart form is nasty enough. Especially from like a kilometer up. Even more so if you're using full freaking telephone poles. Hint: 2k pound bombs aren't that big in diameter or length because steel is heavy.
"Better than terminal velocity" would only be possible if she has thrust - it's just that terminal velicity is higher the heavier you are, the more streamlined you are, etc... And the weight and aerodynamics of telephone pole size/shape darts may result in terminal velocities above the speed of sound.
With the energies described, I'm surprised they're not reduced to mush by shrapnel.
Casket service is more likely.
BlazeStryker
<Confirmed Contradiction>
- Location
- Roanoke, VA
- Pronouns
- Him/He/Dude
Ken and Sakura, or did Masters manage to drag Ryu there? (Normally, he's way too monomaniacal to take a break voluntarily)
Edit/Postscript: As dragon-rich as this thread is, my hypothetical money's on the latter.
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- Location
- Mt. Holly, North Carolina
Huh... The Goddess of The Weave decided Anne McCaffrey was a good stand in for her locally. There are a lot worse choices, and as an author she probably brings her own unique spin to things. Plus, her thoughts on dragon bonding, her experience with psychic races and people, and her willingness to incorporate new knowledge in her world view...
FaerieKnight79
Verified Pixie
- Location
- The Internet
None of the above. That was Death of the Endless (DC Comics) and Mystra, goddess of magic and mistress of The Weave (arcane magic's source in Forgotten Realms).
Heh. You could already be in one. How could you tell, considering the only way you'd be in a situation to meet her?
M. H. Fuzzball
Aperture Science-certified Horrible Person
- Location
- Sector 2814
Hugs Kenshou. It's alright, Kryslin, she's a bit older than she looks. Just be glad her mother's not here.
Naurelin: "My civilian name is not Sherman."
No, Naurelin was very carefully nonlethal. The only way these guys are dying is if they have heart attacks from Naurelin's dragonfear.
Sakuya's Butler
A refined Butler to a knife wielding Mistress.
- Location
- ↓, ↘, → + Punch
Ummm, I wasn't talking about Mystra or Teleute.
I'm talking about what kind of dragon in D&D is extraplanar and is renowned for being total BS as a spellcaster.
Those are not the same.
shrapnel from the dart impacts, broken necks/bleeding out/impalement from being tossed from the technicals at speed and slamming into local terrain... plenty of possibilities for those guys to be terminated.
FaerieKnight79
Verified Pixie
- Location
- The Internet
There are meta-magic feats one can apply to their spells to make them non-lethal. And Taylor can control energy, which includes kinetic energy. Flying shrapnel? Not if she doesn't want it. Broken necks from being sent flying by the vehicle's abrupt stop? Only if Taylor allows it.
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Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
The terrorists in the technicals did not get off uninjured. Severely injured describes the two in the cab of the trucks, They guys thrown from the truck are merely heavily injured.
The one thing that's not being taken into account is one of the powers of the ring Tamara (you know, Draconic goddes of Healing and Mercy) gave Amy is that it applies Spare the Dying over a very wide area to those who weren't instantly killed by their injuries. Also, every time Amy heals someone, either by spell or by Power, everyone nearby (30' radius) gets healed a little. If Amy's powers for healing were Hax beforehand, they've now gone into the "Helbrede OP, plz nerf." realm.
The one thing that's not being taken into account is one of the powers of the ring Tamara (you know, Draconic goddes of Healing and Mercy) gave Amy is that it applies Spare the Dying over a very wide area to those who weren't instantly killed by their injuries. Also, every time Amy heals someone, either by spell or by Power, everyone nearby (30' radius) gets healed a little. If Amy's powers for healing were Hax beforehand, they've now gone into the "Helbrede OP, plz nerf." realm.
M. H. Fuzzball
Aperture Science-certified Horrible Person
- Location
- Sector 2814
Except nobody who's ever heard of her would ever actually say that.
For those of you thinking the Telephone Pole Darts would shatter on impact, they're pointed. The'll go straight through an engine block, and probably further, but given that they're probably 20ft long, they'll stop at maybe 5-6ft above ground and absolutely displace the road & materials below it.
Think lawn dart, on a gigantic scale.
correct me if I'm wrong @Kryslin
Think lawn dart, on a gigantic scale.
correct me if I'm wrong @Kryslin
Kryslin
[Has Delusions of Authorship]
- Location
- Mythic Iowa
I think I know what dragon you are talking about, though it could be one of three : Force, Prismatic, or Time. I don't think it's the last, but I'm having very little luck hunting down a stat block / Monster Manual page for them to be certain.
*edit* : I think it's the Prismatic Dragon. At Naurelin's age bracket, they're casting 9th Level spells.
That's about right. 10" in diameter, 20' long, three fins. Think big dart.
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