/tg/ - Traditional Games

A mysterious trader coming from a far off land some say he is the last of his people or beings but that is besides the point his wares are extraordinary miscellaneous items ranging from enchanted rope to enchanted musical boxes.

>>223332

The geopolitical struggle between Russia and America over who gets the arctic oil was reaching its peak, and Putin despite his age wasn't above bringing a whole platoon with the newest tech far past Siberia as a show of force. However, they end up dealing with much more than just bears and snow.

>>223388

That's a sword.

>>223425

That's the fabled goat of peril. It serves as an omen that one's life will soon become one of adventure and if one studies how the goat stands usually they can gleam some knowledge of a future danger imposed on them.

>>223388

In the beggining there was light, and darkness. A creation of perfect balance, but as time passed evil spread over the land like a plague. Slowly consuming everything in it's path…in the final moments before light was lost to the shadow for all time, a weapon of infinite power was created, thus restoring the balance to the universe. So it was, and shall always be, when ever the need is great they call on the power of…THE MAGIC SWORD!

>>223432

Fugg, forgot my image.

>>223433

Every night the same dream. A seemingly endless plane of water, some normal and some flowing strangely sideways. Sometimes you could walk along it as though it were simply glass, sometimes you were swept away by the conflicting currents. Sometimes the water was empty, other times whole shoals of dead fish floated past.

Over the insane, whispering ocean, the alien sun squatted evilly in the sky.

>>223451

We were the last, the few, tired hungry and broken. We had made it to the safety of the castle walls hoping for food, shelter, at the very least some warmth only to find it a charnel house, everyone dead, the food and fuel burning in the central courtyard.

Then we heard the enemy outside the walls, laughing, mocking, telling us that we were already dead.

We dressed for war and limped out to face them, one last time. may the gods forgive me for my sins. All men die.

>>223460

We were the last, the few tired and broken. We made it to Greece, hoping to find rationality, intellect, and Europe, only ro find it a third world nation, it's culture destroyed, the protesters yelling in the streets.

Then we hears the enemy outside the gates. Yelling obscenities and 'muh dick'. Telling us we were cucks.

I dressed for war and charged them, one last time. May the Pantheon forgive me for betraying my race. All cultures die.

>>223463

How elves do holiday road trips.

Fucking smug assholes don't care it takes three years since they don't die.

>>223464

The wizards have taken clever idea to dispose of the bodies they steal organs from. They polymorph the poor sap into a goat or other farmyard animal, and sends them to a small village where they would not be abnormal- and surely eaten.

The victims often struggle, or steal human clothing, to indicate they were once human.

>>223465

Sir Archibald Elgin used to be a clever business man who made a fortune through his revolutionary pocket watches. When he was cursed by a gypsy to become a terrifying half-human, half-crow he used it to his advantage. 2 and a half year later he had set a trend of cosmetic magic, with himself as its pioneer.

Pls no double post

>>223465

I am somewhat perplexed regarding my walk home from the bank this evening. As you know I have been working in the offices of the central bank for some time now, and you become accustomed to seeing all sorts wandering in to see the chairman, or at least you get used to walking past them in the waiting room.

Anyway, today I was just leaving the office about to return home for the evening, when I bumped into the strangest creature. Picture it as a crow, standing 6 feet tall and walking on its hind legs, talon like fingers protruding from the edge of its wings, and dressed in a rather dapper suit and topper, I believe it was even wearing a monocle and a rather fetching pair of spats. As I stand there, staring at this animal from a fever dream it looks down the length of its beak at me and asks, in the clearest cut glass Windsor accent "I say, my good man, do you know if the chairman is available? I was rather hoping to talk to him regarding a proposal for new nest construction in the north-east."

>>223426

Experimental force projection fields might keep the fortress of Maidan protected for now, and hides the country's inner strife from prying eyes, but the battle outside rages on with such fury it could summon the devil himself. And the black guard of Azov and Rada can't hold their ground forever.

>>223515

Anon should get a life.

The end.

>>223475

While Succubi are banned from holy ground, they have taken to a particularly cruel trick.

They will moan and whine in pleasure, tempting abbots and clerics inside the church- or at least, tempting them to look out the window to see what the noise is. For even curiosity at anything except for the noise of a suffering mortal during times of rest is a sin.

>>223515

> This is an unfortunate coincidence but

During the Plane-Wars, many MindFlayers feasted on the minds of the damned. While most MindFlayers gained occult knowledge and twisted it further, those that targeted succubi and inncubi learned new abilities. They began to alter their form- but even this new beguiling form would not be enough to tempt anyone sane. Their hideous faces would repel them. Unfortunately, the Mind-Flayers also learned how to create auras and charms, even reading their targets mind to perfectly seduce them.

>>223569

Lightning has always been and always will be the result of magical discharge. Any mage will tell you that. The energies involved simply do not build up in nature.

So how does a lightning storm happen? Simple.

The mighty beluga levitas, or flying whale, survives off of the latent magical energy present in aerial leylines; however, as with any magical energy, it has byproducts. The leyline contains both the energy of life, channeled by the birds who cartwheel through the air, and the energy of destruction, as evidenced by electromancers. By using one form of energy, the whale naturally builds up an excess of the other; and it has to go somewhere. Mages learn various techniques for expelling excess magic, mostly via the tried-and-true method of channeling it into the ground, but beluga levitas have nothing so easy to conduct energy into as the ground beneath their feet, nor the training required to discharge safely. Well, I say they don't have the ground; they just have to reach further.

TL;DR: Within every thunderhead is a flying whale, which literally shits lightning.

>>223586

have you ever heard of binary explosives anon? this unfortunate alchemist did.

alternatively

these are the famed sheep that drove away the good people of wigglyshire, a local wizard was attempting to re-create a dragons breath but in a form carry-able and usable by the common folk. he got the formula for making them down but couldnt convince the townsfolk to build an alchemy lab in there home to make them and tried a stab at making them more familiar and easily produced.

yes of course he made bomb shitting sheep, no, he didnt know anything about sheep or have a sheep dog, that was for poor folk.

unfortunatley they didnt shit bomb containers, so the slightest tremor once they settle and off they go!

it really is too bad, every wetnurse and farmer haveing easy access to the power of a wizards fireball would have changed the face of warfare and de-throned a few tyrants. BUT its good for you young adventurers, you merely have to scoop deadly and volatile shit off the ground and this power could be yours!

>>223628

Bro you broke the chain. Forgot your pic

Anyways…

>>223621

Sometimes when things get dire on a Tireme, a soldier would cast aside anything heavy they were wearing in order to keep from sinking under the weight of what they had on. Once in a while a seacritter would end up the inheritor of a soon to be dead mariner.

>>223621

Worshippers of X sea god will ask for his blessings and protection when being seen off for sea-based warfare, in return, X sea god uses the creatures under his dominion to transport the armouries of the fallen to the shores they once left to tell their loved ones of their passing, or to return heirlooms lost at sea.

The dead are left to become a part of the sea's ecosystem, bu those who win the god's favour may possibly be returned to their homes, or in some cases, taken to the god's palace itself to be entombed in his hallowed and sacred halls so that one day their spirits may be reborn as kin to his realm to defend in his name and cause.

>>223685

It was surprisingly windy in the Forest of Vagrant Souls tonight. As they walked, hand in hand, the boy's ghost regaled her of of his life before the Unlife. But Remayla could hardly hear him over the billowing of her cape. "At least I probably look badass right now", she thought to herself.

>>223732

The sun had already pierced the horizon. In its descent into dream, the noble giant left behind a bloodied sky. Ash fell like snowflakes across the barren soil, a goodnight gift from ghastly mountains a world over.

And so to does Henrit fall into dream. For even in this vast wasteland, a hellscape upon such little life may flourish, Henrit is not in fear. For this lizard, such a nightmare world is his waking dream, and it is home.

>>223759

Fortress Galbar looks out on the Trine River, complety blocking any access to the dwarven capitol. The wetlands beside it the only safe means of approaching the fortress, save fending off packs of giant wolves and foxes that roam the field plateaus, and then climbing over the mountains that nestle the capitol in its breast.

One word is engraved on the inside of the battlements facing outwards onto the river. It is ancient dwarven for "no further." Not only an inspirational message or warning meaning no enemy of the dwaves should ever get beyond this fort (lest the repeat of the Hilguard Massacre occur), but that no drawf would have any desire to leave the kingdom, as all beyond it was wet, infested with danger, and devoid of anything desirable.

>>223777

One time, a mad scientist declared that all existed for his own personal entertainment.

Everyone laughed at him, until his game-show hosts showed up. The title of their show? "To Catch a Degenerate". They rounded up anybody who so much as picked up a hammer wrong, forcing them to partake in psychotically-deadly tests of wit for a chance to live.

>>223803

The Battle of Jilden-su was the turning point of the decades long Ursine-Aleuvian War (known by the bears as the War of Simian Aggression), Where Proconsul Colbox, using the impressive psionic abilities he had achieved through a full week of meditation at the steps of Gibin-ei, decimated an entire platoon of Ursine berserkers with pinpoint accuracy.

>>223834

The sprawling warrens of Aur-el, where anything can be bought and sold. Slaves of all kinds, anti-slaves, the scent of a rose, the concept of scent, the concept of symbolic thought.

Everything's for sale.

>>223856

it was always alone, unloved. The paintings never judged it, instead they quietly watched and talked amongst themselves. On some nights it would sneak out looking for new friends, but no matter how much company it kept, it was always alone.

"You misunderstand." The illithid rasped the knives of its thought across the brain of the bound prisoner as they walked side by side. The slave behind pushing the rack, long divested of its cranium and now powered by alchemist solutions, only quivered in the necrotic spasm of palsy. To the sapient captive, it felt like a jagged finger dragging across the fleshy surface of a cake before the real cutting even began. "We do not merely consume the brains of intelligent creatures here, just as we do not require these crude lights to 'see' as you do."

The double doors yawned wide and as the Illithid continued around the long arms that flanked the main table, the human was pushed forward into the center, side by side to a dozen such humans with their backs to the well apportioned dining hall and instead facing each other. Each had wide, terrified, eyes and gnawed at the leather bits in their mouths. Those with the courage had already died to the guards or swallowed their own tongues. The mortal remainder were cowards.

"We sample flavors of intellect," the Illithid continued. "gourmands as well as aesthetes, scientists in the art of self improvement through observation." It made a flurry of real, disgusting, slapping sounds with its tentacles that were by now readily recognizable as laughter. "After all, you are what you eat."

Seating itself, the host of the Salon nodded to his fellow mind flayers who sat as well in arcane robes and fine silk. "And what we shall consume this night," it remarked. "is your terror. First in the fear you carry within yourself, then in the fear you hold watching others as they are consumed."

The other illithid nodded and after twisting their fingers outstretched into the sign of the unutterable way, began to groan arrhythmical. This continued for what was either an exceptionally brief or exceedingly lengthy period as the anxious repast heard but could not see. Then the host rang the bell once for the meal to begin, and the last human to arrive could only quail in horror as she watched the first tentacled maw descent on the bowed head across the aisle from herself.

She heard the cracking.

She heard the slurping.

She saw the eyes pulled clean from the skull on the nerve endings, and swallowed like ripe grapes.

And she knew she was to be next.

Here, let me get this thread back on track.

>>223996

For what seemed like the eightieth time that day, Mönkhtsetseg lifted the fur of her hat away from her eyes and gazed into the infinite, snowy expanse before her. Her grim face showed no signs of yielding to the cold or the mounting sense of desperation that gripped her, but as she began her descent of the mountain she was forced to admit that she was in trouble.

She was not in trouble because of the cold - like all natives to this part of the world, she was possessed of steely constitution and will enough to power through the chill. Nor was her danger getting lost - the GPS locator in her giant mechanical companion had so far maintained a strong connection, despite the howling blizzard. Mönkhtsetseg's real danger was, in fact, the robot itself.

She'd warned them. She had cautioned and objected and protested but the committee had ignored her each time. BDF-012 was barely complete; it shouldn't even be outside the lab, let alone outside the compound. It certainly shouldn't be deep into the mountains in the middle of winter hunting a local terrorist cell with half it's software patches either missing or non-functional. All she'd been able to get out of it was the GPS, the thermal control system and a couple of others - but they were failing one by one. Another flash of fear shot through Mönkhtsetseg she turned to look at the robot, knowing that if she didn't get back before the sun set then BDF-012 would freeze up and shut down. And then she was truly fucked. Although not as fucked as she'd be if the thing's FOF cogitator failed and the robot tore her to pieces.

Perhaps the committee would be more willing to act with patience in the future if the search teams found a ruin and a frozen corpse. Letting this image impel her further, Mönkhtsetseg took another step and focused her mind on getting back to base.

>>224012

"The Order of the Hard Boot". This was what the rebellion in some duchy or another called itself. A few hardy peasants, but nothing worth scribing to paper. Slaughtered in an ill attempt assaulting a Duke's heavily guarded manor. However, one bard sympathetic to the rebellion had an idea.

He told tall tales of them, wrote great songs and stories. Eventually the Hard Boot became a symbol of rebellion, justice, and most of all success. Some corrupt leaders played their hand early- demanding any discussion or material relating to the Hard Boot being outlawed. It only sparked rebellion. Others chose to bide their time. They knew such a powerful symbol could be used, with the right charismatic people and a target portrayed just right. And even if it fails, the in-fighting will crush the hopes resting on the Hard Boot under a much harsher iron fist.

>>224031

Sla'tuun. terror of the wastes. a wizard who has achieved immortality by assuming a form made out of animated sand. His apotheosis complete, he rules over the desert land of Shra-gatha and expands its borders fervently.

>>224070

"Now, what we have here is the results of some poor sod toying with polymorph magics without properly performing the somatic component of the spell. This is why ye never tamper with magic above yer ken, lad. Horrid things can happen. You may think 'Oh! I'll just turn meself into a cat and sneak on into the lasses bathhouse for a quick peek!' and then ye end up suffocatin' in the middle o' the forest cause ye changed yer organs in the wrong order!"

>>224076

What the elves had mistaken for a guardian of the forest was actually a research probe from far, far beyond the stars.

The AI played along of course, studying, calculating. Gathering every scrap of information it could. Should the information lead to a conclusion that the Council would not need to debate in depth, the probe could even take the next steps itself. Diplomacy. Resource Gathering. Clearing out hostiles that would prevent resource gathering. Annihilating a future thread in the cradle.

>>223916

"what can we do?" Said a concerned fa/tg/uy "how do we turn the tide of such faggotry and poor writing, this drought of imagination?"

It was a simple thread, a writing exercise where anons make up stories based on images posted by other fa/tg/uys. However, one of them was being a selfish cunt and refused to post his own images while writing cliche babbling by rolling his face on his keyboard. Did he not have his own /tg/ folder? Was there a reason he couldn't just fucking google something? The considered fa/tg/uy's mind wandered to darker thoughts; he could be on the verge of becoming a trip fag! the fa/tg/uy rolled for initiative, bracing himself for the worst heresy.

seriously, can't you read the fucking op

>>224139

Having fed my cat enchanted meat from a great many hunts along mystic territory over the years, he has slowly gained quite unusual properties, and a surprising size. His breed should be haggard and infirm at this age, but not a grey hair can be found. Perhaps one day I'll leave him behind past Black River, the magic in his blood making a feline more suited there than here. Already he's become a fearsome predator, in a few years he could be hunting fauns.

>>224139

With a subtle glint in her eyes, the cat finalized the trade, materializing an item of immense power in front of the bewildered human. Little did he know that in his efforts against the demonic offensive, he had consorted with a demoness himself. The God of Deceit smirked as she diminished her form, eventually dissipating with a puff of smoke. As the human upheld the wicked black blade, he caught sight of his reflection. Was it his imagination, or were his eyes now a more vibrant shade of green? As he sheathed the blade, he could have sworn he heard the distinctive sound of a purring kitten…

>>224144

It was a simple mission. Get inserted behind enemy lines, scope out the opposition, take down any VIP that became a target of opportunity on the way out. Sadly as with all plans it went awry. The plane went down in a swamp a good kilometer from the encampment, probably alerting everyone there. The second problem? It was quickly discovered the swamp marsh was being used as an experiment. The pilot was quickly dispatched by the creature, as well as the team medic and the co-pilot. All that were left were the two recon scouts, back to back as blades of long grass moved…

Was that beady eyes or some sort of bug sitting on a grass blade?

>>224148

her mission was clear, infiltrate Tumblr space and spread fear, uncertainty and doubt over their ability to resist an onslaught of trolling from chan space. Her tall tales of entire fleets approaching the outer rim caused entire systems have their economies collapse in panic over a horde of racists and misogynists who never came. They believed all of it because it never occurred to them a "women of color" was not only the enemy, but doing it for the lolz.

>>224169

"When do we get to fight, mistress?"

Tilan heaved a sigh "When Marcus and Yellow-Eye come back, then we can meet up with the Guild and get a mission."

"But I wanna fight now!" weather the headache she was feeling was a natural reaction or a side effect of her companion's displeasure was uncertain.

"Be patient, there will always be more enemies to kill, you can wait for a few more minutes." though to be fair, the Paladin and Kobold were taking their sweet time getting here.

"Fine! But we are going to take to bloodiest mission there is!" Tilan felt her headache get worse.

Sometimes, having a sentient weapon was a real bitch.

>>224142

Life ain't easy in the professional world of giants laying. When ace assassin Slick "Sunglasses" McLoafers took the job, he figured it was a mere typographical error on the job notice.

>Needed: Giants layer

Now, Slick is about to be up to his neck in trouble if he can't find a way to get his client exactly what she paid for.

>>224483

FUCKING CHRIST CRIPPLE-CHAN

>>224484

The second coming of the lord was a rather… Interesting affair. Born onto Twiggy-Anne-Marie, the Lord had a troubled upbringing. Yet, as visions plagued his minds in his early teens- he assumed it was the effects of pot and magic mushrooms. But as these visions continued long into adulthood, he learned what he must do.

Get ready to kick ass when the Anti-Christ comes.

>>224484

You know what? Fuck it. That's right, I said 'fuck it'.

The last time I came down here I did exactly what Dad said I should do. I came down to his favourite people, the ones he was trying to take care of, and brought them the last bit of the message he had been giving them in stages for thousands of years. I was super nice to them, I tried to get them to act like decent people, and what did those fuckers do?

That's right, they turned me over to the people kicking the shit out of them and got me tortured and killed.

So, yeah, fuck it, fuck them. This time I'm not telling Dad I'm going back down there and shit is going to be different. We're doing it my way. I'm bringing the angels, and I am swapping out those old school 'flaming swords' Dad gave them for rifles and shotguns (I'm actually kind of impressed at how far you guys brought weapons in only two thousand odd years).

This time we're doing it the hard way. I tried to get you to sit the fuck down and be decent to each other. I tried to treat you fuckers like adults. I tried that whole 'prince of peace' and 'lamb of God' stuff, and look where it got me.

It's the end of the world, and I do not feel fine, thank you very much.

>>224573

Bred in the mountains of Akarhun, the elusive Sun Stag was once the choice mount of the Elves of the Wood. Named as such for the blazing Gem upon their breast, shining light even in the darkest of places. Preternaturally quick and fierce temper surpassing even that, true-bred Sun Stag's were a status of symbol for the Wood Elves. Even owning such a prized creature elevated one's position to nobility. It was often the dream of low born Elves to capture a wild Stag, boost their status and bring honor to their family.

This was long ago, however. The constant wars of East Fire and her hordes have since brought this creature to extinction - though some Elves, their wizened and old faces seemingly carved from the woods in which they live, hold out that the beautiful creatures have merely hidden themselves away. To come back to the Elves in days when they truly need them.

>>224594

I got a little tired of seeing everyone not take me seriously at the magic academy. All of the personalities, all of the rampant disregard for discipline. All these self-important little ingrates cared about was their status.

So yeah, I changed every boy's uniform into girl's uniforms. And I'm not ashamed one bit!

>>224745

It turns out hammers attached to flails- despite being classes as an exotic weapon, is still OP when said hammer has a rune of devastating explosion attached to it. That was supposed to be a major battle with the BBEG, fuck you Craig and your weeb ass characters.

>>225210

whoops/

>>225216

>>225226

>>225236

I was on mobile. Pic and a Webm to make up for it.

>>225211

What the fuck were you thinking?

That's what they asked me when I showed them the plans, I could only just scrape together the funds. Fortunately the plans involved scrapping most of the cars structure and that covered the cost of the last few bits and pieces.

So there I was, I'd sold 90% of everything I owned, mortgaged and pawned the other 10% and taken out every penny of loan I could find, but it didn't matter - no other shadowrunners ride was as awesome as mine.

>>225241

Startup Sequence Initialized;

Loading…

…

…

Systems Ready;

Beginning General Diagnostic…

Servo Motors… Operational;

Audiovisual Sensor Array… Operational;

Hydraulic Ramjets… Operational;

Ballistic Missile Launchers… Operational;

Antlers… Pointy;

All Systems Operational, Awaiting Input;

"Finally! Twenty years of research and countless government grants have all led up to this moment. This refined deer-based weapons system will usher in a new era of cervine cybernetics."

"Rocket Deer, commence test flight plan V-Delta."

Verbal Input Received;

Activating Ramjets…

Liftoff Successful;

Commencing flight plaaaaaaa///-/!

!Error! Hostile Combatant Detected;

"What!? Rocket Deer, I command you to stand down!"

Cannot Comply: Hostiles Have Been Detected In The Area;

Civilians Are Advised To Seek Cover;

Firing Missiles;

"No! I created you! I gave you life! How can you betray me like this?"

Commencing Pursuit Of Hostiles;

"Damn it, Edward, you were right! Man was not meant to play God!"

>>225261

"Hail, steadfast guard! Fear not, for Mathrania comes to partake in the selling of trinkets. Many marvelous artifacts has he recovered from the far corners of-"

"Fuck off, you sauropodic faggot. We don't allow dinosaurs in the city. If I had it my way, I'd smash all you fuckers to oblivion with a god damn meteor."

—

"No, commander, you don't understand. These wood elves are backwards fucking savages. Every third full moon they sacrifice a newborn in order to ensure good harvests. I say we come back here with the cavalry and raze this village to the fucking ground."

—

Every 27 years the Palagonites emerge from their slumber to feast on the crops of the local farming towns. But this time around, the farmers were able to make up their lost profits by selling Palagonite pelts to travelers.

—

"Damn you, Manos! You won't get away with this!"

"Oh, but I already have. Come midnight, my many-fingered warlocks shall perform the ritual, and all the severed hands that I have collected shall be reanimated and under my command. My army of hands will be nigh unstoppable!"

>>225241

>For the webm.

"Good evening sir, madam, I hope you'll excuse me and my brother here interrupting you on your walk through the underhive - but have you heard the good news about Chaos? Well we have all the information you could ever want in these handy pamphlets! Would you care to join us at our weekly sacrifi - I mean discussion group? This week we're addressing how much we hate that accursed corpse emperor and the fools who serve him. We'll have warm milk and cookies, you'll have a whale of a time! Shall I sign you up for our fun and friendly "Introduction to Slaanesh Worship Workshop no1 - Mindshattering Multidimensional Orgies and you" now sir?"

>>225210

That actually sounds like a great justification for any dark/rough city. Sort of like a Drow civilization but less subtly.

>>225262

No one did yours, so I'll fill in.

The Mothmen of the far east couldn't be further from the frail insect they partially resemble.

On my diplomatic visit I saw one of them take a nasty fall that would have cracked a mans ribs. Instead, it got up more embarrassed then hurt. The thick fur that covers its body seems to protect it from harm- or perhaps the powders mixed within its coat?

And while I imagined a moth bouncing off a lantern or caught in flame, these beings worship light perhaps moreso than our own religion (high-father forgive me for this blasphemy). They have a great respect for fire and the sun. Attacking so the sun blinded your enemies was considered cowardly, and the thought of using fire to raze enemy camps was amount to "the greatest dishonor".

This is not to say they don't use fire. In fact, I would argue they are on par with Dwarves for their knowledge of explosive powders, flammable materials, fire resistant materials, and keeping a flame stoked.

During a hearty feast in my honor, the head priest explained how the sun's warmth should only reach those worthy- those who are good- just as the flame should only embrace those worthy- those who are evil. One of my spies managed to get a look at their army. These are not the spiritual country bumpkins we were lead to believe! Bombs capable of creating great fires like a magic spell. Horseless carriages that carry a spout that spews fire like a dragon. The spy also recounted one of their own they had captured. He assumes that it had performed an abhorrent crime if the punishment is anything to go by. The criminal was almost drouned in a thick black tar, and then set alight. Its corpse was still burning as it was dragged away. My spy is shaken to his core over the screams it made.

It is my advice that we treat these "people" like we treated the Dwarves. Make them an ally as soon as possible- before they realize we are out-manned.

>>225277

The lizardmen of the deep south stand at nearly 10 foot tall. Their gangly frame belies their strength and durability. Savage and simple, yet their long legs mean they can run many miles in a short time. They rival even the best horses of the empire.

>>225278

The cover story of LSD is holding, but witnesses make matters complicated. Whatever this substance is, it seemed to have the effects of LSD for an hour an a half. Then 15 minutes later, horror began.

The men became paranoid, looking all around for the enemy. The man who went to feed the birds was now convinced said birds were "working with the enemy". A few minutes after that the men remembered this was a training exercise- and yet became infuriated they had not been given ammo to fight the enemy. After that, they became frenzied. Rapidly switching between fury and bloodlust toward the enemy, terror from the enemy, and hysterical laughter akin to the depths of depression.

At 3:45PM, all the men had collapsed out of exhaustion. All the men were recovered back to base, and placed under medial observation. At 9:16PM, the men awoke and began to scream. As orderlies tried to restrain them, they were beaten back by the men, now somehow far stronger than any mortal man.

Reports after this are sketchy at best. It is claimed by the survivors that the men had "turned into monsters"- with conflicting reports of all manner of mutation- tentacles, fangs, elongated limbs, and sharp teeth.

While the escapees are a setback, results have potential- either as a bioweapon or (if the risks are dealt with) a chemical enhancement. The gentleman who left earlier due to sickness may have some form of immunity. We will use his blood as need be.

Priority 1 is the recapture of the escaped test subjects.

Operation Nyarlathotep: Highest Security, Top Secret, For No Eyes.

>>225302

The meteor was running its intended course (as rough as we could mark it), and half the country was evacuated. Only the collision supposed to make Tunguska look like a wet fart never occurred. Blurry bitch entered our atmosphere, losing nothing on entry, and then gone. No explosion, but a long series of seismic waves. Since then, the area's been a total dead zone. Satellite imagery bugs out, areal transport can't get ten miles in, other wavelengths hit a solid wall. Everything's still hush-hush, but piercing this veil has become the #1 priority.

Two months ago, we sent a guy in personally with survival gear and a fucking painter's master set to get as close as possible and make detailed visuals on the meteor, the seismic activity, and anything in the area. He comes back in two weeks with this drawing and nothing else.

Apparently, it's coming this way.

>>225341

The Mayor was dead- assassinated. Nobody could've seen it coming- everyone from the baseball teams to the executives to the Bubastis-lookalike things loved him.

His funeral was being held at the station he built - it was his baby. Look over there- that guy, with the limo and chauffeur? His company owned half the buildings here in the city.

Whoever killed the mayor was still at large, and all of the city's biggest players were there. That's where we came in.

-Intro to "Observe, Report, Protect: The Untold Story of George Vanhard"

The movie/radio serial would be a thriller, with him scanning the enormous crowds for any wrongdoers. In the last fifteen minutes, he finds a bomb, calls the cops, and doesn't actually hurt anyone directly.

It's a success among critics for the lavish set/sound design and tension, but audiences were disgusted, expecting a thriller where he was fighting off anarchists and communists in a battle for the fate of the city.

>>225349

The grand knight only wanted to acquire curatives for his upcomming journey. The stubborn alchemist, however, had different tastes.

He disliked the traveler and wouldn't sold him a thing even if he was the last of warrior around.