Whispers from the Deep - Biplanes & Bisexuality

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  • Informational


    • Character Sheet
    Isabelle Morgenthau
    A Fisher

    Isa (right) and her boyfriend Arren (left)

    Hard Keen Calm Daring Wild
    +4 -2 +4 +1 -1
    Moves
    Creepy: When a comrade sees you perform a ritual, overhears your prayers, or sees signs of your alienness, they lose Trust in you. Once they learn one of your Moves, they are no longer affected, but they gain Creepy as well.
    Deep Ones: You can call on your patrons to Help you on a roll. On a 1, you Break after this mission.
    Blessing: When you dab fresh blood on a piece of working equipment, roll +Calm. On a 16+, take both. On an 11-15, choose 1.
    • Take +1 Ongoing with this item this Routine. (+1 Handling for a plane)
    • The item cannot break or be lost this Routine. (+1 Armour on 1 Section of the Plane.)
    On a miss, you need a bigger sacrifice. Don't disappoint.
    Ideomotor Response: Your plane effectively has a programmable autopilot. It does not have to be switched on and off; it "knows" when you are behind the controls.
    Soul-Bound: When you paint a rune in blood on an aircraft, you are linked. While in flight, you can take incoming Structure damage as Stress, 1-1. You can take a hit that would strike a Component as Injury, or give incoming Injury to your Engine.
    Bond: (Witch move learned from Wulf) When you hold an object of significance and make an emotional connection to it, take 1 Stress. The object becomes a magical Focus, and you learn it's Nature (Earth, Air, Water, Fire, Iron, or Blood).
    Contemplation: When you draw a ritual circle and stay within it, roll +Calm. On a 16+, you come out of it about an hour later refreshed; strike 3 Stress or 2 Injury. On an 11-15, it takes the whole night, and you're unreachable in that time.

    Mastery
    The Bushwack
    Ambush Predator: When you strike an enemy who is unaware of your presence, roll with Advantage.
    Forced Evade: When you fire to scare an opponent off, spend 1 ammo and roll +Hard. On a hit, instead of dealing damage, choose one: Target dives 1, target climbs 1, target loses speed in a forced turn. On a 16+, roll attack dice on them anyway.
    Momentum: When you dive onto a target, add +1 AP.
    Scissors Snip: When you disengage, give an ally +3 towards dealing with your target.

    Familiar Vices
    - Drinking
    - Prayer
    - Dancing

    Vice Progress
    - Breaking Stuff: ☑☐☐
    - Cannabis: ☑☐☐

    Intimacy Move
    When you are intimate with another, choose one of you to get a hold. They can spend that hold to give the other a command: if followed, then forward to their next +Stat move, they will always score at least a partial hit, regardless of what the dice say.

    If you use this move in the air, there are two holds, and they can be distributed however you agree.

    The Company
    People
    • Isabelle (Fisher): The PC. She's out to find her way in the world. 1 thaler per Routine.
    • Arren (NPC- Confidant/Observer): Your cute fish boyfriend. Artist and recently trained observer. 1 thaler per Routine.
    • Wulf (Witch): Former bandit leader. Actually half wolf. Hot as hell. Ex-Goth. 1 thaler per Routine.
      • Hard +3, Keen +3, Calm -2, Daring +0, Wild +3 (Avenger)
    • Minna Hammerl (Soldier): Inexperienced but highly trained soldier and passionate duelist. Speaks all formal-like. The most beautiful woman in the world. 1 thaler per Routine.
      • Hard +4, Keen +1, Calm +2, Daring -2 (Professional)
    • Heinrich Engel (Student): Political science student working on his thesis-slash-manifesto.
    • Anny Meldgaard (NPC - Mechanic): A young half-Fischer, half-Himmilvolk woman from Piav, trained by the mechanics there. Looking for adventure and her origins. Blushes red?
    Aircraft
    • Isa & Arren's Plane: A Teicher Möwen seaplane. Steel frame, liquid-cooled engine. Deeply possessed. 1 thaler per Routine.
    • Fang Howl: Wulf's helicopter. An experimental pre-war model. Liquid-cooled radial. Three wolf moon. 1 thaler per Routine.
    • Pup: Wulf's Kreuzer Skorpion prototype retrieved from a sealed hanger. Gets a lot out of an underpowered engine.
    • Minna's Kobra: An inline-engine powered, wood framed fighter. All around an excellent machine. 1 thaler per Routine.
    • Heinrich's Reconstruction: A canard plane with a 30mm cannon in the nose. Awkward and unstable but hits like a train. 1 thaller per Routine.
    ​
    Stress XP
    3 7
    ​
    Cash Expenses
    41 10.5
     
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  • Informational
    • open_sketchbook said:
    "Isa, your boyfriend is really scary." She gasped. "And really hot."
    Click to expand...
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    How does that meme go?
    Perception of Flying Circuses: Watch as these amazing heroes take to the skies in death-defying adventures
    Reality of Flying Circuses: Watch as this adoptive family of pansexual disaster maniacs bumbles about, flirts with everything, and lights way too much on fire.

    [X]Ask around the Skyborn caravan for news about the raiders.
    [X] Talk with Wulf
    - [X] Teach Wulf the basics of how our rituals work/what effects they can have/what can go wrong with them.
    -- [X] Specifically try and teach Wulf the Ideomotor Response move, to allow her helicopter to fly itself while Wulf shoots things.

    brmj said:
    I mean, aren't summoned Lovecraftian entities how helicopters normally fly?
    Click to expand...
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    No, they fly by being so ugly the ground is repelled and doesn't want to touch them.
     
    7734 said:
    I'm willing to bet Isa knows about it, since at the time of this Quest it's about the only way to execute a semi-accurate level bombing run without a dedicated bomber with dedicated bomber things.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Okay but why would Isa know about how to execute a semi-accurate level bombing run?
     
    Crasian01 said:
    Tell me of your mental images, I wish to see.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    A pig, recently dropped from a bomb rack, wearing a balute like a skirt to slow it down.

    Of course, a balute may be a bit much to ask, so a slat fin kit designed to be strapped onto livestock is a reasonable alternative. As as a conventional parachute, but that's a bit less fun.
     
    Wiadi said:
    Okay but why would Isa know about how to execute a semi-accurate level bombing run?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Because the same manuvere is also how you get a package from your plane to where it needs to go as close as possible. Back in this rough time period when the USMC was involved in the Banana Wars (a sort of Latin-flavored pre-Vietnam) the normal method to deliver supplies and orders to Marines out in the jungle was a forty pound sack with the material in it filled with hay and with a rough canvass parachute tied to the end. The parachute wasn't for slowing it down relative to the ground- testing proved you couldn't really make one work with the forces involved- but it did slow it down relative to the forward motion of the plane so the package went where it was supposed to go. The hay filling was what kept things in the sacks from breaking, and when doing drops from sub-hundred feet ABG, worked rather well.
     
    If you need a justificationfor why Isabelle would be familiar with bombs. Maybe her village used depth charges to scare schools of fish into the nets of the balloons or they were used to stun larger prey like giant squids or whales. The village had access to parachutes and maybe they needed to be precise in the placement.
     
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    4-23: Magic Stuff
  • Threadmarks
    • "- right there, in the back of the plane?"

    "Uh-huh."

    "Damn girl. Does he know how lucky he is?"

    You and Wulf were currently engaged in an old pilot ritual, reloading your belts. Like packing your parachute, it was one of those things you always tried to do yourself instead of trusting it to somebody else. Wulf had pulled an old box of 7.7mm out of storage, and the two of you were reloading the belts (for your plane) and pan magazines (of her copter) while shooting the shit. In between you was a metal bucket, into which any defective or suspect rounds were thrown. At the end, you'd head to the gunsmith with them and trade them in for some cash.

    "So everything's going to be okay between you two?" Wulf asked, cranking the loading spiral around and dropping in rounds one at a time.

    "I think so. You might want to give him some space though." You replied. "I think he's more upset with me than you, though."

    *plink!* You dropped a round with a bend on the extractor rim into the bucket.

    "Fine with me. I've heard some shit about you fishers, I don't want to end up getting sacrificed or whatever." She threw a round into the bucket with a spin on it and it rolled around the inside with a ringing noise. "Fuck yeah, ringer. We used to have stories about you guys back home. I've met some fischervolk since then, but mostly like... you know, folks with family inland. Never full on tattoos and robes and shit."

    You'd heard of inland fischervolk before. The word "apostate" was thrown around a lot by the High Priest.

    "Well, now you've met some. Still scary?" You asked, fitting another round into the cloth belt. These weren't as nice as the shiny new ones Irma had given you, but they weren't as terrible as the originals, and there were some barium salt tracers mixed in that'd have a nice green glow.

    "Girl, you have shark teeth. You're fucking terrifying." Her next round missed the bucket, skipping off your rainboot and landing in the grass. "Damnit. And your boyfriend? He's a cutie for sure, but I thought he was going to deck me through the fucking wall and like, I dunno. Turn my skin into a book. You guys don't do that, do you?"

    You thought about the book on the back of your belt which was definitely bound in human leather. "Uh, no comment."

    "Fuck. Really, blood sacrifice and all that?" She winced. "What have I gotten myself into?"

    "It's not all that." You said. "I mean, yeah. A little blood, just to get some attention. And... yeah, it's all a little morbid. Honestly, half of it is bullshit, just for show. There's a reason I left home." Your turn to throw a round (missing primer) into the bucket. It skipped off the rim and bounced inside.

    "Oh? Not fully on-board with the fish gods?"

    "Oh, no. I'm fully committed." You showed her the scar on your hand, deep from repeated cuts. "Else this would have been a lot of pain for nothing."

    "Huh. Why do you do that?"

    "Blood gets their attention. The Gods, I mean. If you want them to talk to you more closely, a little blood in some salt water is a good way to do it."

    "Is that why..?" She indicated around the edge of her mouth, where your scar was.

    "Oh, no. That was... that was the asshole who claimed to be our High Priest. Though... it did end up having that effect. After he cut me, I bled into a saltwater pool, and the patterns told me what I needed to do."

    "Patterns? Like reading tea leaves? I was never any good at that." Wulf asked.

    "Tea leaves?" You laughed. "Why would that work?"

    "I dunno. My mum was really good at it. Me... I can tell you if it'll rain, sometimes? Maybe? Nevermind that. Why would you want your gods' attention? Aren't they like, evil monsters?"

    You'd let that slide, she was learning. "They're... they're not evil. They watch over death and decay but... it's not evil. It's natural. Necessary. They like us, and they want to protect us. They just don't really understand us, any more than we understand them. It's why the sea is dangerous. They'll embrace you, because they don't really understand the difference between life and death. It's all the same to them."

    "Oh." Another case, this one missing a bullet entirely, ricocheted off the inside of the bucket. "But they help you?"

    "They try to, if you ask them. But... not all of us really get that. My people... my village, they were scared of them." You explained.

    "Fuck, I'd be too."

    "I get that. But... they made the same mistake you did. They got thinking the Gods were malicious, that they would take us unless we appeased them. That the blood was to satisfy them so they wouldn't take more. But... that's not it. They love us, and they want us to join them." You snapped two belts together and slid to the next section. "And we will. There's a city under the sea down there, where we'll all rest. The river goddesses will take us down to the sea, and we'll rest under the waves. Like my mum."

    There was a solemn silence. "How do you know?" Wulf asked.

    "They told me." You explained. "I've seen her. In my dreams."

    More bullets sorted. More dings against the metal bucket.

    "I... I think your faith is really cool." Wulf said. "Scary, but... cool. It must be nice, to have somebody in your corner. Even if they're a horrible squid monster."

    "You don't have anything looking out for you?" You asked.

    "No. The fae don't really do that. You can make deals with them, but they don't care. They're using you the same way you're using them, and they'll turn on you in a fucking second." She snapped her fingers, and a little spark leapt off them. "You get what you need from them and you get out."

    "How'd you do that?" You asked, amazed.

    "What, snapping? Okay, put your thumb and middle finger together... maybe wet them first, and-"

    "Nono, the spark!"

    "Oh, it's just... it's just a little magic trick. Uh, I can teach you, it's really simple. Do you have an acorn?" She said, looking around.

    "Um... let's get this done first." You said, throwing away another round, this one with a giant dent in the casing. "You can show me later."

    You kept working a while. It was slow work, especially Wulf's magazines, which required the feeder to be turned between each round. You were leaning close to help her load the last rounds in when she spoke again.

    "What's with the tattoos, anyway? Why do they glow?"

    "Oh! Well, there's a squid we pull up off the coast, its ink glows. The tattoos though, they're... milestones, kinda. Story of our lives. When you were born, who your family is, people you've lost, oaths you taken, that kinda thing." You pulled up your left sleeve, revealing the sleeve of purple tattoos, a weave of spines, waves, and tentacles crawling up your arm. "Um, it's different for every town. For us, it's a way of knowing one another, and knowing yourself, but... there's this place out to sea we traded with, Regensee, who... they take the skin off the backs of their dead relatives and preserve it in family books, with the tattoos on, so you can learn their life story."

    "Holy fuck, that's hardcore." She leaned in to study the tattoos, tracing the pattern of rope rigging up to your elbow. "This is so fucking cool. You have these all over your body?"

    "Wouldn't you like to know." You teased, pulling your sleeve back down. "Come on, let's get these loaded up. Then we'll find an acorn."

    ---

    After you'd loaded the belts in your plane, the two of you walked out to the outskirts of town, near the edge of the moutainous forest. Faerie lights played in the shadows inside, and the trees rustled with small animals. Wulf traced a circle out with her foot in the soft dirt, planted an acorn in the center, and the two of you sat cross-legged inside. (It took you a few tries to arrange your legs right.)

    "Okay, what next." You asked, feeling a little silly.

    "Okay. Here goes. This is... this is really minor stuff, it shouldn't be too dangerous, but... please don't mess around too much, okay?"

    "Got it." You understood the concept of a dangerous ritual well enough. "What are we doing here?"

    "Well, alright. We're all magic, right? Under all... this-" She waved her hands sort of vaguely around her body, "-we're the same stuff as the forest and the air and the underground. Same as the fae and the sky-whales and the dragons. Same as Rhona, Elba, and Doana, same as Sigvird, same as the old Titans. Maybe even the same as the Skyborn. Magic stuff."

    "Magic stuff." You repeated.

    "Right. But us mortals, all that magic is packaged up in our soul, which gets out after we die and fucks off to who knows where."

    "I know where." You said.

    "Cool, yeah. But, in the meantime, we're basically juicy morsels of magic stuff for all those things out there who want a bite. And what we're going to do is make a contract with them for their power, with a bit of our soul as collateral."

    "That... sounds really fucking bad." You admitted.

    "Yeah, but it's okay. Thing is, we're actually coming to the table with all the cards. A human soul is more magic than anything. A sliver of a sliver of it is more than in all the life in this valley. It's why the fae keep fucking with us; they want it so bad. Which means they'll give up a lot just for a chance to get some. We're dangling that carrot in front of them with this, but like... a soul can't actually be split apart unless something goes really, really wrong. They're paying in advance for something that won't be sold unless you really fuck up."

    "What does really fucking up look like?" You asked.

    "Um... well, this will sounds weird to you, given your whole deal, but don't ever bargain in your own blood." She explained. "Or your kids, even if you never plan on having any. They'll ask, but tell 'em to fuck off."

    "Got it." You said. "Anything else?"

    "Nope. The fae are pretty simple, people are just fucking stupid around them. You ready to get magical?"

    "... yeah, I think so." You said.

    "Okay, cool." She stepped out of the circle and kneel behind you, a hand on your shoulder to steady you. "Put your hands palm down, around the acorn, and think about light."

    You did so, your hands against the damp dirt, eye closed, picturing the light that filters through the top of the water, that reflected off the sea outside your home. The whispers perked up, hissing warnings. Something was coming.

    You opened your eyes to find a little ball of light in front of you. A greenish-blue, it bobbed over the acorn. It was... it wasn't speaking, there was no words, but you felt something happening inside you.

    Not my blood. You thought. Not my flesh, not my children, not Arren or Wulf or your father or sisters. Just a peek at the light.

    The little glow bobbed and faded from your vision, and you released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You realized you were damp with sweat, and every muscle in your body was screaming in protest.

    "Gods, what just happened?"

    Wulf leaned close, grinning widely. "Babe, you just got magic."

    ---

    You walked back to the tavern with Wulf as night started falling, snapping your fingers over and over to try and summon the spark. It just wasn't happening.

    "I felt it! I felt something!" You insisted. You had, like a little jolt inside your fingers, but nothing had happened.

    "Isa, don't worry. You're not going to get this in one day. Look, you need... you need a focus, is all. What's something that's important to you?"

    You looked down at the bronze symbol of your patron around your neck. "Uh, would this work? I feel like it's crossing the streams a little..."

    "No, that'd work great! Hold it tight, and think about what it means to you. Every feeling. Think about what it would mean to you if you lost it, and lost what it represented. Then..."

    She snapped her fingers again, and that little spark shot out.

    "Okay. Okay, let's give it a shot." You gripped the symbol hard, the sharp points digging into your palm. You thought about your patron, the glimpses you'd seen in your dreams, the face of your mother under the waves. Smiling at you with a thousand eyes inviting you to join her.

    You snapped.

    Roll 2d10-1.​
     
  • Threadmarks
    • 4-24: Vomiting Fish & Skyborn
  • Threadmarks
    • Nothing happened.

    "Aww." You said. "I really though that was going to work."

    "Um... Isa? Are you okay?" Wulf said. "I think, uh, I think you should lie down."

    "Huh? Why would you- oh."

    At that point, you doubled over and threw up all over the grass. A lot. Not those delicious lamb sausages, but instead about three gallons of seawater and several small minnows.

    "Oh Gods... what the fuck." You finally managed, weakly, lying on your side, water still dribbling out of your mouth. "What the fuck."

    "Yep. That was me the first time too, but more fire. Um... just a channeling error. You'll get better at it." Wulf explained. "You good down there?"

    You nodded weakly. "I think so. Give me a few minutes." She sat next to you, stroking your hair until you felt better.

    "So, I think I know why this happened. My bad, sorry. You were trying to make the spark, right?"

    "Mmhm." You said, face down against the grass. "Just a little spark."

    "Yeah, well, your symbol there isn't exactly, uh, related. Magic is sympathetic. Like to like. Uh, broadly, it's easy to think of it like the elements. Did you ever learn those?" Wulf asked.

    "Earth, water, fire, air, iron, and blood." You listed.

    "Right. So you want your sympathetic token to channel one of those. Broadly. You'll get better at knowing what's what over time, just be careful until then. If you feel up to it... try again, but this time, instead of picturing a spark, think of something small which is related to the sea."

    You almost refused, citing the case of you vomiting up several live fish, but you did kinda want to impress this girl. You gripped the symbol and let your mind drift to the sea, like you were under the waves, bubbles rising from your mouth...

    You snapped your fingers, and a perfect little bubble floated off them.

    "Holy fuck. I'm magic!"


    ---

    You made it back to the tavern in good spirits that evening, meeting Arren at one of the tables for dinner. You showed off the bubble trick eagerly, perhaps a little too much so, snapping your fingers until they were raw and creating a curtain of little saltwater orbs that hovered between you, which he took to puncturing with his fork. Wulf sat with you, and the three of you talked warmly, mostly. You could tell Arren was still a little sore, but he was doing his best to ignore it and be open.

    After dinner, Wulf wished you good night (with a wink, eeeeee!) and left to round up her crew, and you and Arren discussed the day's events. Arren had a series of new maps from the local print-shop, which included courses to a variety of local villages and some spots of interest.

    "So we know the area. We should probably find out more about these Goths, though, shouldn't we." He said, and you nodded your agreement. "Who'd have information, though?"

    "They probably would." You pointed to the Skyborn crew, still keeping to themselves in the back corner. "Mum always said they could tell you anything, for a price." You lay your last thaler on the table between the two of you.

    "Why would they know, though?" He asked.

    "The barkeep said they came down from the north-east. That's where the Goths are from, right? The old imperial capital. Maybe they've traded with them or something?"

    "Wouldn't put it past them." He whispered. "Alright. You go, I'll keep an eye from back here."

    You picked your coin off the table and headed over to the ground. They were an eclectic assortment of individuals, with strange, bright clothing and jewelry hanging off their bodies. The Skyborn had come to Himmilgard hundreds of years ago in massive balloons, bringing strange foods and goods with them, and they'd never left since. They just flew from town to town, living on their trade balloons, trading here and there, staying above everyone. They looked unusual, like nobody you'd ever seen before, and they spoke a different language even. Nobody trusted them, and they returned the favour.

    They stopped talking as you approached, standing near their table and waving a hand nervously. "Um, hello?"

    "What do you want?" One of them said without looking at you. She was a tall woman with a shaved head, covered in little golden scales that *clinked* as she moved her head.

    "We... um. I'm your escort tomorrow, to fly out of town-" You started to explain.

    "We'll leave on schedule. Don't you worry about that." She snapped.

    "Oh, no! Um, that's not my worry. We're going to be going through Goth territory, and I was... we've never faced them before, and we were wondering if you knew anything about them." You said. "If you'd run into them before."

    There was a short conversation in their strange language, and then a chair was pulled out and offered to you. You took a seat among the foreigners, trying not to look too nervous.

    "We know the Goths." One of the men explained. "They're a bunch of your stupid inland cousins, hyped up on the words of dead men. Lost children, fanatics and murderers." He spat each word. "They want to bring back all the things we're glad died with the Old World. The factories, the armies, the hunting parties."

    The bald woman took over for him. "They raid villages for... 'recruits'. They'll find a use for anyone they can get their hands on. Young men for their armies..." She glanced at Arren, who was staring them down from across the room. "And... girl, buy yourself a pistol." She said, eyeing your belt.

    You shifted your poncho to hide your belongings. "To defend myself?" You asked.

    She formed her hand into a gun shape and put it against her temple. "If they try to take you." She said.

    Cool. "Thanks for the advice. Do you know anything about how they fight?"

    "They're disorganized. A mess. They have different tribes, armies led by different old general." The other man took up explaining. "More bodies than engines, so they put together anything that flies, and put as many young killers on them as they'll carry. They like grappling hooks and knives, sharpened shovels and the like. They'll throw away twenty men to take a plane intact."

    "So fly clear." You said.

    "Yes, stay as far away as you can, attack from a distance. Their planes are heavy and sluggish. But don't underestimate them. They have weapons left over from the last days, and all their planes can fire in all directions. Stay cautious, stay mobile." Another woman spoke. You thought she might be a pilot, from the intricate brass goggles hanging around her neck.

    "Okay, that works for us, but what about you? You can't exactly run..." You said. "How can we keep you safe?"

    They looked at each other puzzled, speaking in their strange tongue, before the bald woman spoke again. "Stay above us, keep them threatened. They'll need to slow to our speed to board us..."

    "... and that's when I'll hit them." You grinned. "That'll work perfectly. Thank you!"

    You pushed your chair away and headed back to Arren.

    "You find out what we need?" He asked.

    "I think so." You said. "They were really helpful, actually."

    Arren paused, looking over your belt, patting you down.

    "Huh." He said. "Well, alright. Life's full of surprises, I guess."

    You talked for a few more minutes, then headed up to bed. There was a long day ahead.

    Roll 2d10 for stress.

    Also, as you might have noticed, people don't like the Skyborn. Like... look, people might not trust the Fischervolk because, you know, you have a bad-but-slightly-earned reputation for blood sacrifice and such, but... nah, with the Skyborn is just straight up racism, and there's no reason for it other than the fact they aren't from here.

    In regular Flying Circus, the assumption is that any of the very special episodes your characters might have needed to learn Racism is Bad happened off-screen before the game began. But... I have control of the narrative here, so I can be a bit more nuanced. Isa is a good person. Arren is a good person. Wulf is... half a person. But they all grew up with prejudices that they haven't really confronted yet.

    But... you had a really good roll here, so I took that as Isa being open and friendly, despite what she's been taught. It didn't exactly solve anything, but it got you some useful information. If you act on it well, it might also get you some allies.l

    As for your Magic, Wulf taught you her core move, Bond, which gives you access to the Wild stat, used to cast magic. For you, this stat starts at -1. You can use Bond to tie yourself to an object of great importance to yourself or another, and then use the Element of that object to cast relevant spells. Bonding yourself costs you 1 stress, because you have to emotionally invest yourself into it. Your first Bond is with your unholy symbol, which is a Water bond.

    When you cast a spell, you target something with it, pick one of your Bonds, and roll +Wild. On a success, you can choose an effect from the Bond's element and have it happen; for Water, that's "bridge a gap of understanding", "restore life or movement", and "induce sympathy". On a partial success, this also transfers one of the effects of the target's nature to you or your Bond, GM's choice. On a miss, I get mean.

    The two special Bonds are Metal and Blood. Blood is cast from yourself and your family as a focus. As a Witch, Wulf can also cast it using her lovers, just FYI. Blood has really powerful effects for healing destruction, or insight, but its also by nature dangerous because you are always the focus. Metal is anything made by industry, especially planes and guns and stuff. Metal can't be used as a Bond, it can only be a target, and metal does terrible, terrible things to stuff. So be careful about casting spells on aircraft, weapons, or the products of industry, it can rebound on you hard.    ​
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • Hmmm. Rolling.

    Edit: Shame this isn't 40k, which is the only time that's a good set of rolls.
    7734 threw 2 10-faced dice. Reason: Stress Total: 4
    1 1 3 3
     
    I think I don't understand how bonds/spells work, so uh. Dumb questions ahoy.

    Are "spells" narrative as usual, or is there a list of spells somewhere that we have not seen? (I'd be surprised if it's the second, but hey may as well ask)
    For example, say Isa's engine is jammed. Do we say "hmm yes let's channel some water to clean out our engine" or do we find the Clean Engine spell from the sourcebook?

    What, generally speaking, are spells capable of?
    Presumably we're not talking conceptual absolute (dur hurr I target the earth's crust to get a techtonic plate moving again) levels of silliness. But that still leaves a lot of room between "can heal a twisted ankle" and "can restore a missing leg"

    Are bonds also capable of more blunt/simplistic effects, or does anything significant have to be an effect from the bond?
    Like, say, Isa wants to put out a fire. Conjuring water (perhaps orally) is clearly within our purview but you'd have to really stretch things to make "'bridge a gap of understanding', 'restore life or movement', [or] 'induce sympathy'" relevant.

    What exactly do you mean by 'transfers one of the effects of the target's nature to you or your Bond'?
     
    InterstellarHobo said:
    I think I don't understand how bonds/spells work, so uh. Dumb questions ahoy.

    Are "spells" narrative as usual, or is there a list of spells somewhere that we have not seen? (I'd be surprised if it's the second, but hey may as well ask)
    For example, say Isa's engine is jammed. Do we say "hmm yes let's channel some water to clean out our engine" or do we find the Clean Engine spell from the sourcebook?

    What, generally speaking, are spells capable of?
    Presumably we're not talking conceptual absolute (dur hurr I target the earth's crust to get a techtonic plate moving again) levels of silliness. But that still leaves a lot of room between "can heal a twisted ankle" and "can restore a missing leg"

    Are bonds also capable of more blunt/simplistic effects, or does anything significant have to be an effect from the bond?
    Like, say, Isa wants to put out a fire. Conjuring water (perhaps orally) is clearly within our purview but you'd have to really stretch things to make "'bridge a gap of understanding', 'restore life or movement', [or] 'induce sympathy'" relevant.

    What exactly do you mean by 'transfers one of the effects of the target's nature to you or your Bond'?
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Okay here's the basic explanation.

    Spells are freeform, and the main restriction is that whatever scale you choose to operate at is the scale I fuck you if you roll a miss. That's a pretty simple way of reigning it in.

    So yes, you absolutely can say "i want to use water magic to restore my engine". You have a simple justification: restore life or movement is something you can do.

    So you     could try to restore a missing leg, but get trying-to-restore-a-missing-leg sized consequence for fucking it up. You try to make some sparks and fuck it up, you throw up fish!

    The consequences are usually targeted at your focus, not you, if you mess up, but it can still be bad. We had a witch die in combat during a playtest because the ember from their family's hearth caught light and eventually burnt her whole plane when she was trying to light an enemy plane on fire.

    These consequences aren't always going to be destructive; the GM is supposed to get creative, and people all have their associated elements too. You and Arren are probably Water, Wulf is probably Air, for example. If you tried to attack Ewald with magic, well, he's probably fire, which means if you miss I'm supposed to look at Fire and pick a suitable consequence for you or your focus from it. Yes, it might be the focus catching fire in your hand. It might be driving the holder to a rage. That kind of thing.

    As for raw capabilities, yeah, your magic can generally create or manipulate the element you're using as a focus. Again, scale of consequences applies.
     
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