The white city.   Posted by Failed GM.Group: archive 0
Failed GM
 GM, 210 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Mon 15 May 2017
at 00:26
The white city
quote:
I see the mighty city through a mist—
The strident trains that speed the goaded mass,
The poles and spires and towers vapor-kissed,
The fortressed port through which the great ships pass,
The tides, the wharves, the dens I contemplate,
Are sweet like wanton loves because I hate.


The white city looms larger every minute in the visors until Home is under it. The splendor of the high walls and towers is replaced by murky waters and close canals. The silent artifact delivers the group to port, unnoticed as far as Fin can tell. The nanospirits are directed to wait until dark to open the tunnels that will lead up and out.

Things are silent now, in the dead of night. Only some anbaric flames and cheap torches light this section of Astaria. It's a closed harbour they have navigated under, a deep water coming almost right to the shore, like it had been excavated for some unknown purpose. Sensors haven't noticed defenses so far, which is not at all what you would have expected.

The exit tunnels are now open, and the group could exit now. What do you do?
Final Command
 player, 175 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Mon 15 May 2017
at 16:19
The white city
Fin hesitates upon seeing the tempting exit.  Was this too simple?  Or were they just not looking closely enough?  This was supposed to be Ormakal's stronghold, and certainly there was better safeguards than this...

Or better ways in.  If the nanospirits' stealth was superior to their detection abilities, then perhaps they could take the chance on getting more information on their opponent.  Molfeen didn't want to go in blind, no matter how strong the nanospirits seemed.

"Let us see if we can find connections to the city here, information strands or light codes, security procedures or even sustenance protocols.  We need to talk to the city automatons, to see if we can learn more of Ormakal and what dangers surround him."

[Private to GM: 11:18, Today: Final Command rolled 20 using 1d20.  Communicating with city automatons (S).]
Failed GM
 GM, 212 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Sat 1 Jul 2017
at 20:39
The white city
After what it seems an eternity trying to jam into the city's admin cables, a seemingly random connection, almost an afterthought, allows access. After that, it's just a simple matter of programming to get the infodumps. A huge morass of transit laws, timetables, etiquette manuals, but thanks to the ability of the nanospirits, all those together yield vital clues on Ormakal's activities. Fin is fairly certain of the times Ormakal will be parading themselves through the main streets of Astaria, including the changing of the guards, the schedules for stops, minimum distances before their enforcers... well, enforce, usual long-range protector nests, protocol for approaching, and much, much more.
It also describes the Main House, where Ormakal... yes, let's go with "lives". It's a giant organometallic mind somewhat attached to a mechanical body. Who'll argue? Fin now knows who the guards are, where the barracks stand, and what that particular little room... No. Weird, the system does not want to yield that.

And it does turn out that the underwater proximity sensors in this particular sector should be working, right now. But it seems not to be. Weird, that. Maybe the security system has a different way to protect the city than just swarming with guards. Who knows.

[OOC: for the major effect, you have three assets you can use regarding any access/sniping/silent murder/etc. plan you come up with. You can tell me what those assets are at any point. This is the nearest thing to a get-out-of-jail-free card I can think of.]
Final Command
 player, 176 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Fri 28 Jul 2017
at 14:38
The white city
Molfeen considers the information carefully, tension humming through her like too much power overloading a wire.  She was closer now, very close to the one who had sought her, sought the Weal, had attacked her family, had caused untold misery.  She knew how to thread through the mazes of his protection, if not precisely where the being itself resided. Though the fact that the systems did not want to give her the specifics on one room in the Main House told her nearly as much as if she had had the full specifications.  One only refused to yield secrets about the most important things.

And while considering important things...  What would she do to Ormakal?  If she was able to find him, catch him, keep him from harming her or bringing the power of his city to bear upon her, to save the Weal, help Taerenai?  She had seen what Ormakal could do when he wished, what destructive forces he could unleash.  And he had chosen a much more insidious weapon to attack the Weal, perhaps because of its distance from Ormakal's city.  The nanospirits had their own agenda too, though for now it resonated with Final Command's.  And Molfeen's.

Between their help and her own knowledge, she would see Ormakal and his wanton destruction and greed turned to another use.  More than likely Ormakal would have to surrender to permanent deactivation.  Death.  He was not likely to accept change in his status, nor to give up his quest for power.  Power shared powered many.  Power hoarded powered no one.  This had been neophyte's wisdom in the Weal.

"C40arla?  Spirirts?  We're going to find Ormakal's chambers and find his plans.  And then we will neutralize him.  He will take all the power for himself eventually, and has no reason to stop.  We will stop him."  Molfeen pets Hound's smooth head, and looks into its eyes.  This must be strange for the animal; as strange as the world outside the Weal had been for Final Command.  "Hound, I hope you don't mind coming with me.  If we can aid the Weal...  I know places there I think you will like."

Those were all the promises she could make for now.  Now it was time to act.

She didn't know why the sensors were off here: coincidence, malfunction, maintenance, hostile enemy action, deliberately as a trap, the possibilities were legion.  She could not take the sphere into the Main House, not without likely triggering a war.  But perhaps...

"We must go between the gaps in the security sweeps, and attempt to locate Ormakal's sanctum with the information we have.  If he is not in the Main House, then we can mine it for plans and his current location."  She pats the two remaining cyphers at her side.  If she could not find enough information inside, then she could ask more of the datasphere, if need be.  Or even an organic source, should one be handy.  "Let us begin."

[Private to GM: OOC:  Sneaking into the main house, bypassing the security sweeps, hopefully like a boss.
09:37, Today: Final Command rolled 9 using 1d20.  Stealth.  Trained in Stealth, also that's going to be by Flex Skill for the day, so that makes me Specialized.  And I'll use one of my major success assets. Whee!
]
Failed GM
 GM, 213 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Sun 30 Jul 2017
at 23:20
The white city
As the group sidles carefully through the mechanical walkways and automatic lifters, they are reminded of the "white city" moniker. The buildings are of an almost unnatural shade of pale. Fin is almost repelled. This should look darker, there should be stains. But the walls are pristine.

The Main House is closed. Not as in "doors are closed", but as in "there's absolutely no entrance to be seen". It's a huge faceted hemisphere, its shade of white a bit darker than the pervasive milk tone, with seemingly random rivulets streaking it now and then.

Only they're not. As Molfeen observes with one of the cyphers, the wake of the rivulets is thin. That's the key to getting in. So she holds Hound's mane with one hand, has C40arla linked by her hip, and uses the same cypher to pinch the surface as one of the streaks passes. And they're suddenly inside.

This is a corridor of large columns, this is a huge open space of columnades, all alike, this is a large dome built, as Fin knows from her exam, in concentric figures: circle, icosagon, dodecagon, decagon, octagon, hexagon, pentagon, square, triangle, point. This is the Main House, its floor covered in fresh grass, its ceiling shaded in night lights. At the center Ormakal waits, dreaming. Fin did not expect the walk to be so grandiose, though. As the eyes adapt to the difference in light, details become more noticeable. The huge columns are not only that. They're also dwellings. Soft light can be seen coming out of some of them.

Nobody's noticed the group, and nothing seems to have given you up yet. Hound is distressed, though, sniffing and growling softly at something unseen to your left side.

What do you want to do now?
Final Command
 player, 177 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Tue 29 Aug 2017
at 16:39
The white city
Ormakal, who else did he have in his house?  Who else dwelled in this place?  Allies?  Willing allies?  Those captured to serve his ambitions?  Ormakal did not seem the type to share power, but why keep potential enemies close?  Unless, of course, he was certain of their actions and loyalties.

That, Molfeen did not know.  To go straight to her goal would be to expose herself to anything living here.  As secure as the Main House was to most outside interference, a being like Ormakal did not cause as much trouble as he had by being careless.  Other security measures would likely be in place.  Like, say, misdirection.

She turns to Hound to see what it is looking at, or scenting, or perceiving in some fashion.  She also concentrates hard on the flow of nanites around her, any that are here, not just those she brought with her.  Because now, of all times, she needs to be certain of her direction, and certain of her target.  She is in the reactor core of the behemoth, and there is no room for error.

Where is Ormakal the most vulnerable?

With that question in mind, she waits to see what Hound has found, and what, if anything, the datasphere can find for her.

[Private to GM: OOC: I want to use the Connected ability of my Bazian descriptor - I get to ask the datasphere a question once per day.]
Failed GM
 GM, 214 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Thu 7 Sep 2017
at 09:56
The white city
A group of children pop into existence in front of Molfeen, all clad in blue-white, transparent. In a sing-song voice, they recite words long forgotten:

Dear child, dear child, Ormakal the Mind is heavy and dark
Their soft, red thoughts cling to you and reach down
Down inside you where the wild things are found
Don't let yourself fret, don't let yourself down
Just wait 'til you're in them and then spook them out
Ormakal is vain, but their mind is so clever
It's inside of them where you'll find the lever


The vision vanishes. Fin's connection to the 'sphere was cut abruptly.

The place Hound is watching has changed. Where there was a patch of damp grass now exists a field of red flowers, all pointed at the group. The columns there have also warped somewhat? Maybe. Fin can't tell for sure if they were ever any other way. She's almost sure they were not that awful mauve, though. Nor did they have spikes.
Final Command
 player, 178 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Tue 12 Sep 2017
at 16:07
The white city
Molfeen considered the rhyme, and it seemed that the best way out was in, so to speak.  To let Ormakal think he had won and then defeat him from the inside?  The idea appealed to her greatly, particularly to the part of her who had grown up as Final Command.

However, it seemed that Ormakal, or his security system, had found her.  Was it an organic alarm system?  She didn't have time to study it, but maybe later, if she didn't die...

Paying attention to what the datasphere had imparted to her, it seemed that in the midst of Ormakal's thoughts was where she'd find her goal.  Which meant, and she had known it was going to come to this eventually, she had to get to him, close enough that he'd want to pick her mind apart rather than kill her.  And if she could... Well, she had a cypher to read his thoughts.  In trying to get rid of her, thinking of his own weakness could easily cross his mind.

"C40arla, let's get to Ormakal before he becomes bored and has the flowers try to stop us" Molfeen says.  She had other truths to impart, and indeed, many "wild things" within her, when Ormakal made his move.

Molfeen focused on the central pillar, Ormakal's home, then flicked her eyes over to the lights on the other dwelling-columns.  Do not dare try to stop me, she thought fiercely.  You do not know what trouble you will unleash.  Looking back at the central dwelling, Molfeen began her run, trying to dodge from one pillar to another if they started to change, trying to stay ahead of the changes (the "alerts") if at all possible.  She wanted to get to Ormakal's while he still dreamed, because she had a dream of her own to share...
Failed GM
 GM, 215 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Thu 21 Sep 2017
at 14:12
The white city
C40arla shakes its head, its voice grating
I have a bad feeling about this, 'feen
with a new, darker tone. But it does start walking, clicking its fingers at Hound for it to follow.
The seskii has its tail between its legs, and starts trembling and whining with fear.

The flowers rise on little synth legs and feet, and start walking towards the group. The huge mauve columns also rise on little synth legs and feet, unsuccessfully, and start falling to block the path of the group. The soft lights of the dwellings in the columns blur in circular sections and then are puffed out of existence. The mauve turns to blue as the columns accelerate in their fall. Some columns start to break from the strain.
[OOC: Trying to run past the falling columns is a L6 base task, or you can suggest alternatives.]
Final Command
 player, 179 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Thu 28 Sep 2017
at 14:58
The white city
If you have any suggestions, C40arla, I welcome the advice!” Molfeen says tightly and quietly, feeling she’s made a terrible mistake.  She’d hoped to finish this quickly, but now she might finish this early, and dead.  Could she conceal herself from the falling pillars and flower-sensors?  Make Ormakal think his security had worked while hiding?  If she could avoid getting crushed to death, maybe that would give her an opportunity.

She tried to turn and run parallel to the line of columns, not trying to get past them, but to use their falling forms to hide her own.  Given a moment to breathe, perhaps she could find a place to reprogram and redirect their parameters.  Maybe.  Possibly.  Highly unlikely...


[Private to GM: 09:55, Today: Final Command rolled 9 using 1d20.  Stealth (T).  Using second asset from the city.  And maybe an asset from the confusion of falling pillars?]
Failed GM
 GM, 216 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Sun 12 Nov 2017
at 19:12
The white city
Fin manages to hear C40arla tweet
"I don't think we're in Astaria anymore..."
among the roar of the falling columns. Most of the sensors are obliterated as Molfeen Sebsen jumps from column to plinth to spire to falling column, and then...

For a few incredible moments, all is quiet. Molfeen perceives clearly that something is searching for her, looking all around for her shape, but she is safe. For now. On the other hand, the same cannot be said of the rest of her group, which has split from her in the confusion. What to do? The way forward should be short, but C40rla and Hound are behind, somewhere in the rubble.

[Private to Final Command: You have been successful at hiding Molfeen, and this will last as long as she doesn't do anything to call attention to her, or 5 minutes. Finding the way forward is a L5 task, and so is regrouping without being found. Each of those actions will take a minute if successful, more otherwise.]
Final Command
 player, 180 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Fri 17 Nov 2017
at 15:32
The white city
Molfeen tries to slow her breathing as she glances back at her companions.  She was close, so close, but to leave them behind now...  The most logical part of her said to find her path now, use the distraction of her lost party members to confuse the search for her.  It was the safest, perhaps surest path to the safety of the Weal.

But it was not just the Weal she was saving.  Not anymore.  There was so much more...

Moving more slowly than she wanted to to pick her way through the wreckage, Molfeen turns to find her friends and bring them with her.

[Private to GM: 09:20, Today: Final Command rolled 6 using 1d20.  Finding the path (1E).
09:11, Today: Final Command rolled 6 using 1d20.  Regrouping (1E).
Well... at least I'm consistent?
]
Failed GM
 GM, 217 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Sun 19 Nov 2017
at 23:18
The white city
Ticks and ticks pass inexorably, like raindrops, as Molfeen tries to find her companions, her friends, under the rubble. It's something like synth, at the same time hard and light, so lifting column pieces is not as hard as it would seem. Finally, after an interval which is surely too long, Hound's quiet whimper guides Fin to their location. C40arla is temporarily deactivated, or so it seems.

As Molfeen lifts her automaton companion out of danger, the hairs on the back of her neck bristle. It has found her. As the columns recompose around them, in a huge slow dance of synth, blood, and stone, a pathway opens and a figure advances: a small humanoid, with a floating detached head and a birdcage full of song.

How did you enter my abode? he asks Molfeen. This was supposed not to happen.
[Private to Final Command:
What do you want to do?
]
Final Command
 player, 181 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Fri 15 Dec 2017
at 17:26
The white city
"Many things are not supposed to happen.  But this is," Molfeen says, easing out the smooth metal sphere cypher from her pocket, and depressing three of the seven divots on its surface.

[Private to GM: OOC:  Activating I am in you (Occultic): L8, Allows you to read the surface thoughts
 of a visible living target within long range, for a number of rounds equal
to the cypher’s level. Will not work if the target is wearing a metal helmet
 or hat.
]

"Maybe your abode wanted me inside.  Maybe it is you who are not longer welcomed here, you who reached for too much and tried to take what is not yours.  You turned the nano-spirits against their own nature and took them from their home.  And now all you have wrought is coming apart."  Molfeen speaks slowly as the cypher activates, hoping to pick up what she can from the approaching figure.  As she speaks, she tries to revive C40arla.  There is the slim possibility that within this tangle of shattered home is something to communicate.  If Molfeen could contact her mother with C40arla's help...  This was exactly the sort of thing she'd been asked not to do, but that was before she had the nano-spirits and the pyramid on her side.  What had once been entirely impossible had now been downgraded to merely mostly improbable.


[Private to GM: 11:24, Today: Final Command rolled 15 using 1d20.  Repairing automaton (S) .]
Failed GM
 GM, 218 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Tue 19 Dec 2017
at 12:57
The white city
As the creature bristles and snorts I am my home, and my home is me, Molfeen notices its mind, its enormous, gigantic mind. It actually spans the whole space around her. The columns, the flowers, the people living here are just visual manifestations of this enormous consciousness, virtual neural connections that will not be bound by simple matters of flesh or space. Thoughts arrive, like those little creatures that flutter in the wake of the red wind hitting your vital organs. The words just uttered are a microscopical particle of the whole, and Molfeen starts unveiling the symbols for their true meaning, and quickly notices some memories that are important to this being right now. The concoction of sabotage at the Weal, GSCDC being promised that this would mean a new start without flesh. Ceara Saeles, traversing the land like a steel spider on its net, each segment a bit of a plan, each node a bit of pain. The dodecahedron and the gut-wrenching, senseless death of so, so many visitants. The attacks on the pyramid town, and Home. Places that Fin has not been to: a city underwater, with crumbling walls, and a deal she cannot understand right now; a place where the stars are strange and the land flows like purple wine. This very moment, at the top of the heap. It is genuinely puzzled. The walls should not have opened: nobody knew how, but the mind.

[Private to Final Command: OOC: For the remaining 7 rounds, or for about 10 minutes, the cypher gives Molfeen an asset for intelligence attacks and defense against, or for interaction with this creature.]

This message was last edited by the GM at 14:35, Mon 15 Jan 2018.

Final Command
 player, 182 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Thu 28 Dec 2017
at 11:36
The white city
Molfeen feels a hard pang of triumph, tempered with sorrow and anger, that her suppositions had been right, that this vast mind of Orkamal, greedy and far-reaching, had truly been the author of her misery and that of countless others.  And for what?  Power?  Ways to gain him more power?  For whatever dire dangers he courted from his places Beyond?

No.  Not on her life, saved and shaped and shielded and sent out again, the one he had missed.  The factor he couldn't understand.  He understood power.  He did not understand...

Guardian.

Her mother.  Her father.

The Weal.

C40arla, saved from the devotees of a mad, many voiced god.

Hound, saved from fire.

He did not understand.

"You opened the door to me a long time ago," she whispered.  "You made your own downfall."
Failed GM
 GM, 219 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Mon 15 Jan 2018
at 14:34
The white city
As the enormous consciousness experiences perplexity for what might very well be the first time, the vast enclosure starts looping on itself. Where there was a vast, luminescent ceiling now there is more floor, and the horizons all around are just more vast prairie, more columns and flowers.  Fin can see the small people and homes above her, far away, just as she can see others in the distance to the sides. A loud howl reminds her of what she was doing a while ago. But Ormakal questions.
What exactly do you think you are doing? Why do you think you can be this insolent to me?
And then it strikes. With the help of the cypher she just activated, Fin sees a mental wave designed to flatten small countries is coming. Everything stops.
[Private to Final Command: Fin has entered a state of meta-time, where she can try to avoid this attack and strike, or try to stop Ormakal from launching it by talking or other means. Interacting successfully with Ormakal is a L8 task (you can use the asset from the cypher for 7 rounds).
I also just noticed I made a mistake in the OOC message in my post above; that's what "the asset from the cypher" means.
]

This message was last edited by the GM at 14:36, Mon 15 Jan 2018.

Final Command
 player, 183 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Thu 25 Jan 2018
at 12:09
The white city
There is a part of Molfeen, a part that knows she and countless others, organics, non-organics, and machine beings will be destroyed in the wave, and that part knows the stiff, cold feeling of fear.  It hadn't been until she'd left the Weal that she'd been able to name the physical sensations and connect them to what she was feeling; she hadn't thought she'd felt at all, a fault in her vocabulary, in her raising, that her mother never meant for her.

But even as she knows she is afraid, the fear feels as frozen as the time around them.

"You ask why I am insolent to you.  You saw something, a threat, or some need you had, in my parents, my family.  You came to destroy me and everyone who loved me.  You didn't succeed.  And now you see some other need in my home, in the cities here.  You'll destroy them, and for what?  Great power?  Great knowledge?  In destroying them, you will destroy what you most wish for.  Those you have tried to kill, those you have tried to subvert, they are coming back to you.  You don't want that."  Molfeen tries to hear the nanospirits who'd come with her, but she's not certain they were in this place of no-time.  "You ask what I am doing?  You have worlds beyond world you can travel to.  Places your mind can expand to.  I have beings who will have to remake my home after what you have done, and it will never be the same, like I will never be the same.  But you can also change, travel, go and find something in yourself and your new world.  It might be wonderful.  It might be awful.  I have found both.  And you can see more, find more, be more.  But not if you destroy.  Not ever, then."

[Private to GM: 05:40, Today: Final Command rolled 20 using 1d20.  Interacting with Ormakal, E2 (two levels of Effort).  Using both another city asset and the asset from the cypher.  If Numenera would help, I'm specialized.  If he is an automaton, I am specialized in interacting with them.  If he is a human, abhuman or visitant, I have an inability.]
Failed GM
 GM, 220 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Wed 7 Feb 2018
at 18:44
The white city
Everything cowers in fear from the fury and the roar of the enormous tsunami. Almost: Molfeen Sebsen, the tiny human girl who will not yield, becomes a small fish in the currents of Ormakal the Mind, embracing the wave of ending, flowing in it, on it, and through it, until it is no more. All that there is now, is her. The gigantic consciousness has gone past, and as the frail old being is searching for what should be her pulp spread across the grounds, she is ready, just as the mind is busy searching. This is her moment.

[Private to Final Command: Slow clap. Standing clap. Cheers. Confetti. Also remember a nat 20 does not expend Effort. As for your question, Ormakal is an abhuman for the purposes of this discussion.]
Final Command
 player, 184 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Sat 10 Mar 2018
at 11:24
The white city
Molfeen sees the wave and marvels at it, and a part of her is curious at the frail old thing that is seeking her.  This is what separated her family, killed her siblings and father, drove her mother to hide herself behind barriers of death, brought a human child to the Weal.  The wave... is naught but energy, the energy that Ormakal sought from the Weal, the knowledge he craved, the power he wanted to absorb until he was supreme over all.

And there was so much of it, so much more that she had ever realized, more in the world than even Ormakal knew.

He was so small.  A babe wailing at the foot of the Dragon.

Not even Final Command had done that for long.

Ormakal had unleashed the wave in her world, could she set him adrift on it?  Push him out to the otherworld with naught but his own mind, his own consciousness?  Taken from the vastness of the city that was form to him, he would be forced to prudence and frugality.  Or else face nothingness.  Having had all, could he strip himself to the smallest of fractions?

He might find out more about himself.  If he could live with it, that was.

[Private to GM: OOC: Redirect Ormakal's wave to the other place?  Or internalize it so he instead breaks down his own "body?"  If I have any assets left, I'll use 'em!
05:24, Today: Final Command rolled 11 using 1d20.  Redirect.  Numenera? S, 2E.
]
Failed GM
 GM, 221 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Sun 11 Mar 2018
at 19:41
The white city
[Private to Final Command: OOC: Of course Molfeen gets an asset after that 20.]
A tiny mouse, a little red mosquito, a quick tadpole flutters fast, almost invisible circling the great Mind, whispering words of wisdom to her nemesis. As she thinks aloud, the columns around the pair start rebuilding, and life in them flickers again.

As the white city blinks back into existence a furious howl is heard nearby, and Molfeen can see Hound running determined towards the Enemy, jumping precisely, biting Ormakal and shaking. White blood spatters the ground, and the Mind tries to hit back, not thinking ahead. The small girl is now right there, right where she wanted. All she has to do is give the old man a gentle nudge for him to lose footing and fall towards its own wall of death, while Fin jumps, hugging Hound out of the way.

...

The flames and the roars die down after a while. And Ormakal rises. It is too powerful to be vanquished by one single hit, but it looks severely diminished. Something in its frailness is now more pronounced, more evident. But the anger in him is unbound now. It has been defied. Its weakness has been made evident. It wants revenge. And it has seen Molfeen. A white warhammer materializes in its hands, a shining armor suddenly covers its body. The White Knight runs, jumps, and attacks.

[Private to Final Command: This is still a L8 defense, and Fin still has the cypher asset from before.]
Final Command
 player, 185 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Mon 12 Mar 2018
at 02:32
The white city
Molfeen sees the blow coming, but braces herself to take the strike, a little too stunned to run from a single figure after all of this mental fencing through strange images.


[Private to GM: 21:29, Today: Final Command rolled 2 using 1d20.  Defense! 2E + Asset.  This is gonna hurt...]

In pain, Molfeen shout encouragement to Hound, to Car40la, and tries to spin and push Ormakal and his armor right into the teeth of his own wards.


[Private to GM: 21:32, Today: Final Command rolled 18 using 1d20.]
Failed GM
 GM, 222 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Tue 1 May 2018
at 18:07
The white city
The hammer strikes Molfeen right in the center of her chest in a flurry of sparks and a huge BOOOOOM. The shockwave alone feels like it could flatter a small town, and in fact it does: it's now raining little bits of masonry all around the group. C40arla and Hound are still here, though, and run to assist their small comrade in arms.

It is a strange help they give, strange indeed: C40arla takes Molfeen up and spins with her, while Hound bites at the legs of the White Knight, setting it all up for what we in this age would call a "Fastball Special". And it is successful: as Fin impacts him, Ormakal trips on Hound and falls back  right into a nest of his own spikes. C40arla runs and jumps on him, impaling him further. The white armor is now covered in black and orange spats of blood running in rivulets from the Mind. Everything starts to crackle as he tries to shake free.

[Private to Final Command: Ormakal's hit does 8 Strength base damage (unless you have an ability that says you can take Speed Damage).
Ormakal is now blocked on his own spikes for a turn, and while he frees himself you can do another action. What do you do?
]
Final Command
 player, 186 posts
 Bazian Jack who
 Battles Automatons
Thu 10 May 2018
at 08:48
The white city
Molfeen reels back, pain cascading through every part of her.  She has little left to give, and feels what she has might not be enough.  But she will try with every part of her left working to show the Mind, to show Ormakal that lives and power were not his to take.  There is a chance that weakened as he is, those once under his thrall might be able to seek their own lives.  That the other world he used would have to be enough because this one was far too much for any one Mind to encompass.

There is one last thing she can do for those she loves.

"C40arla, if this is where I stand, then you shouldn't die with me.  Go to my mother, find another way, and live if I can't.  This is my final command," she says softly, a echo of a loving directive said many years before.

Defiantly, but with reverence, she takes the last thing she has from her pockets and holds it before her.  It is no cypher, no weapon, no artifact, but a red synth sphere that hold captured images.  Her father, her mother, her sister.  Herself.  Guardian.  She presses it to her heart, and shows it to the Knight.

"This is what you wanted.  The world.  This world.  All of it is in here, all that made me who and what I am.  You could try to take it from me, but I don't think you will.  The other world you've found, that is the only world you could take.  This world is not right for you.  You've tried before.  Try something else now."

She presses her fingers into the orb, willing him to be distracted, wounded as he is, to consider the impact of her story, so different from the lives likely both of them have known.  And she searches, as she speaks, for the lever the city had spoken of to defeat Ormakal.  She had Hound with her still, and if the Mind did not accept her emotional logic as true, maybe Hound, her faithful organic friend, could provide the simple solution in the face of other worlds, families, and destinies....

[Private to GM: I'm Impaired right now:
Pools and Edge
Might: 0/14 (Edge 0)
Speed: 2/12 (Edge 0)
Intellect: 4/16 (Edge 2)


03:41, Today: Final Command rolled 3 using 1d20.  Numenera (S) + asset vs Ormakal.
Well, spit.

03:44, Today: Final Command rolled 9 using 1d20.  Perception?
]
Failed GM
 GM, 223 posts
 A struggling GM who
 Turns Coffee into Story
Thu 10 May 2018
at 10:32
The white city
The seskii walks up to the young woman and starts licking her hands. A small gesture of affection that soothes the enormous pain and focuses her. And she remembers the words of the nanites:

You will be *crucial* to that task. You will be imbued at the right time. Yes. We will have a new home. And so will you.

The red orb in her hand starts shining brighter and brighter, and the crystals on Hound's back start burning with colored light. Hound starts a howl that Fin has never heard before, a longing, a worry, a relief, all together in a single sound. C40arla stops in its tracks and looks back, its body bright and diaphanous. The blood on Ormakal is fire, dripping and kindling the ground.

A wind starts whispering all around you all, then clamoring, then howling, focusing on the impaled White Knight. Pieces of white armor start breaking away as the nanites ram it from every direction, a thousand thousand pincushions and a giant warhammer at the same time, again and again and again, with furious anger that will not stop.

In the end, all that remains is a wizened body ravaged by years of neglect, and a naked, spent Mind that is no more. And here is Fin, in the middle of the White City, with her friends. C40arla approaches and hugs her, and the soft mane of Hound rubs against her legs. It is done.

[Private to Final Command: ...And scene!]