• The Bard in GreenA
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    71 year ago

    Rifts: Your spell doesn’t do MDC, so the darkness is unaffected. Rolls dice. But it looks like the Coalition detected your use of magic…

    Nobilis: You have inflicted a wound on Alissa Cavanaugh, Bearer of the Six Daffodils, Walker of the Western Circle, Viscountess of Darkness and Sister of the Familia Vortarax. From out of the darkness falls a white glove, holding a crushed daffodil. It lands at your feet, and from it’s empty fingers spills a scroll that unrolls in front of you, written in letters that are somehow legible, despite being inscribed of Darkness itself. The scroll reads “I know not how I may have wronged you, but this strike against my Estate shall not stand. If you and your Familia be not without honer, meet me on the night of the full moon on the steps of the Great Citadel in City Back, for by the laws of Angels and Devils, shall I have my satisfaction.” It is stamped with the Viscountess’s seal. What do you do?

    WEG Star Wars: Spend a Force Point and roll Will. Wait, isn’t your Willpower currently “Battered?” Subtract 1D. Nope, it STILL seems as if the presence of the Dark Side is strong here. But also, you now sense a disturbance in the Force. As if someone, or something, has been alerted to your presence.

    MERP: Critical hit. Roll a d100. Um… hang on let me find the table… 97? The darkness is ripped to pieces, it’s body parts scattering in a 2d10 meter radius, covering everything and everyone in dripping gore…

    Dark Heresy: You attack the darkness. Gain a corruption point and roll WP or take 1d6 Insanity points. You hear demonic whispers in your head, it sounds like they’re screaming “Blood for the blood god! Skulls for the skull throne!” Also, you’ve alerted the Orks to your squad’s presence. You see a BIG ork come out in front, carrying a really big, red gun…

    Tingleverse: The Darkness stares at you in surprise, then smiles. “Is that what you want?” he asks, “Do you want to be rough with me?” From out of his black depths his eyes glow with passionate intensity as you feel him yield before you. “Yes,” says the Darkness, his handsome voice husky with barely suppressed desire. “Yes! Take me! Pound me!” His beautiful asscheeks, darker than the depths of space, part before you. “I want you,” he whispers, “Yes. Show me that love is real, buckaroo!” What do you do?