Office

woofhound

You are the most feared Warlord of the Seven peaks, the small woman infront of you informs you in a hushed tone. This seems true, judging from the leatherclad psychos braying what is ostensably your name - oh, and the flayed skulls.

This is strange, because 30 minutes ago you left work - an office job, boring - went into a normal doctors office for extremely minor surgery. Now you're the leader of the "ExecuKillers" according to the woman (who also informed you she's your concubine).

"So... Lord of Skulls..." You frown, and she smiles slightly. "Sorry, Nigel. Right. So..." she looks over her shoulder at the tent-flap, beyond which you can hear the drums of war and bellowing hores of warriros - your warrirors, now.
"This, uh, incident... well, bad timing. The Execukillers are about to go to war with the Bloodletters... and you need to rile them up. Quickly, too, because everyone's ready to leave."

[Continued below.]

>>5980057

She grabs your arm - thick and musclebound, slightly tanned. Not the flabby, weak arm you're used to - and drags you outside. A huge crowd is assembled, and as you're led onto a raised dias, the numbers start to sink in. There must be hundreds of cars - Frankenstein vehicles bristling with weapons - and thousands of men, all dressed in black leather and carrying weapons from spiked clubs to sniper rifles.

She steps infront of you, raises her arms and shouts.
"Glory to the lord of SKULLS! Glory! Glory!" - each man drops to his knees, chanting in your honour as she gestures you to step forward.

>[System Information]
Rolls are a D10, rolled by me IRL.
You have two skills - Office Worker and Warlord. These are self explanatory. As you lean in one direction, you will lose points in one and gain those lost points into the other. You can ignore this and try to forge a third path, if wanted - like a diplomat or something. Mechanical alterations will be made if and when relevant.
You start with 5 points in Office and 5 points in Warlord.
Not everything you do will require a roll.
Creative write-ins are encouraged, although I may provide pre-written paths for inspiration.

This is my second quest, please be forgiving if this sytem sucks.

>Anyway... :

You see the men looking up at you, waiting for your words of inspiration. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Just like the mindfulness exercises you were taught in the mandatory staff party.
You begin...

>[Office] - "So... team. We've got a goal, a deadline to reach... deadline, hah. No pun intended. Those Bloodletters. Just, yknow. Team spirit, and work together. We can do this, guys. ExecuKillers number one!"
>[Warlord.] "I... I won't mince words - instead, we will mince the enemy. Let none survive."
>[Write-in speech.]

>>5980057
Please disregard the spelling errors. I had this wiped out by captcha fail twice and was rushing to rewrite it.

Anonymous

>>5980061

>[Office] - "So... team. We've got a goal, a deadline to reach... deadline, hah. No pun intended. Those Bloodletters. Just, yknow. Team spirit, and work together. We can do this, guys. ExecuKillers number one!"

>>5980061
>Double Warlord: "Today we will inflict suffering that will be remembered for generations. The Bloodletters actions will not go unanswered. Let's live up to our name: Exukillers!"

>>5980061
>[Synergy] We are one team of the deadliest butchers to ever roam the wastelands... the Bloodletters will choke on dust & blood when we're done with our quarterly quarterings! ExecuKillers!!!

>>5980272
Beautiful use of cross discipline team building to build or corporate culture sir. Has my support.

woofhound

>>5980272
>>5980335
>>5980389

>>5980272
Your speech starts with a stutter, sending a ripple of confusion through the crowd. You clear your throat - the quarter's profits rest on this speech, you tell yourself. If you fuck this up, Mr Murphy will be at your desk in 30 sec- Okay, you're overdoing it.
"'We're the deadliest team on, uhm... the scene. Nobody can stand against us." It's a rough start, but a current of excitement ripples through the crowd. Your crowd. "Yeah! You guys make this compa- warband! Without your
blood reaving, skull taking, without you signing their severance notice... we're fucking nothing!"
A couple cheers ring out, but most still listen intently. A few are nodding.
"But... you know that. I'll cut the shit - you get out there and cut *them*. Make this our best quarter... by chopping them into quarters! Buy those fuckers out!"
They erupt into jubilation. Guns are fired into the air, banners are raised in your name. The footmen begin to form up, and final vehicle preperations are made.

All the energy goes out of you the moment the crowd's attention leaves you. Legs go limp - but you stay upright, barely. The concubine tugs on your hand.

"That was... confusing. But you got into it, huh? The men seemed to enjoy it, and that's the important bit.
Anyway..." She leads you back into the tent.
"...I hope your, uh, hate to share bad news.. but you're to lead the main charge. Or, rather, the Lord of Skulls usually would. You can stay back, but some of the men might accure you of cowardice.
Your call, boss. Your Murder-Rig awaits." She grins at you, and sits on a plush chair, waiting for your decision.

>[Actions:]
>Ask for more information. (About what?) [This action can be repeated a few times without advancing.]
>See the Murder-rig and prepare for the battle.
>Refuse to go. Fuck that.
>Explore the tent, meet your other slaves.
>Write-in.

Anonymous

>>5980444
>Meet with our slaves & find out their skillsets/uses, then inspect our kill-dozer & prepare for battle

>>5980446
I'll agree with this. We are in a strange situation and need to be aware of everything.

>>5980446
+1, even if it looks dead already

woofhound

>>5981489
I was asleep then at work. Letting your quest die is a moral failing.
>>5980446
>>5980789
>>5980824
You glance around, "I'd better... meet my staff, first. Before I figure out what's going on."
The concubine stands up, bowing low. You get the feeling it's a sarcastic bow.

"Cynthia. No honourary, no family name. Concubine to the Lord of Skulls for 2 years, and now apparently... your advisor." - you look ehr up and down again. The woman must be in her early 20s. She's waifish and uncannily pale, with sunken eyes. When she talks, you can see her teeth are stained red.
Cynthia rings a little bell next to your bed, and a little while later - three men (?) walk in.

The first is tall, and muscled, wearing a mechanic jumpsuit. Mostly unremarkable, execpt for the black-metal rectangle replacing half his face. Three blinking lights shine out from it, and the edges where it connects with the flesh are mangled, burnt and tumerous. Beneath the skin, you can make out pulsating cables. His remaining eye refuses to meet yours.
"Johann. Your Murder-rig's custodian."

The second's wiry, standing hunched with too-long arms, giving him an ape-like appearance. He wears tight leather suspenders, and a dirty shirt with a faded graphic of a tuxedo printed on it. He smiles, teeth filed into points.
"Your personal butler, Fetter." - you find him unsettling, but make an effort to nod to him anyway.

The last man is, somehow, the weirdest. Bald, the top of his head has a collection of metal studs sticking upwards. Electricity arks from stud-to-stud. Each arm ends in disproportionately-large clawed metal hands. His legs are a black plastic with metal accents, ending in hooves - the legs connect to his abdomen, meaning he has no waist or groin. His lower stomach is malformed and spotted with rivets and staples, connecting the mechanical to the flesh.
"Satan, your body-guard. He, uh, it... is a Eunich Android. I think they're made by the Wanga Mountain Meat-crafters. He's utterly loyal to you, and other than regualr bodyguard stuff - he also tests your food for poison. He can tear even our biggest lads to shreds with those claws, and I once saw him vomit a kinda poison all over a dude. Melted his face away. Gross shit."

"These three men are the three who, well, have the best chance to murder you. The rest of your staff are managed by these three, and tend to get replaced quickly. Weakling slaves, meathead warriors... There's also the rest of your, ah, harem.." She exhales through her teeth, body langauge changing. "I had them murdered while you were freaking out. It was a snakepit, and I didn't want any of the other bitch- girls, even... to try to give you bad advice." - you look over at her and she flinches, body tensing up. It seems she expects some sort of punishment. Fetter licks his lips.

>[Actions:]
>Inquire about your other staff further, talk to your three main guys.
>View the murder-rig.
>Lie down and have a cry. This is horrid.
>Write-in.

Anonymous

> murder-rig babyyyy

What kind of wheels we got

>>5981647
>View the murder-rig.
Eh, power-plays are inevitable with harems. I'm not sure if Nigel would be down to lay with somebody he just met, if he's an office-worker, he's probably a bit of a weenie.

>>5981647
>Inquire about your other staff further, talk to your three main guys.
We need to know about our forces. Vehicles. Weapons. Food. Fuel. People. Where the fuck is our logistics guy? These three are just personal assistants, and i wouldnt be suprised if they were part of the power play, except for android guy, maybe. Go back to our bureaucratic roots

>>5981779
I think we'll have to be the logistics guy.

>View the murder-rig.

After the cool truck

>>5981779
+1, then we need to get on with leading our sales campaign-pillaging

>>5981779
Support

Well, sounds like a restructuring was needed in any case, now to restock the harem with more pliable women.

woofhound

>>5981779
>>5982003
>>5982245

"RIght. Nice to... see you all again, I guess. Where's the logistics guy?"

Cynthia chuckles, Fetter grins wider and speaks. His voice is gutteral and strange. "My liege truly has changed, new memory, new man.... Very weird, very weird." He licks his sharp teeth, drawing blood. "The Lord of Skulls... you... saw no need for logistics... a, ah, formal system, at least. The worms outside pick what they need, and..." He looks over at Satan, who is staring blankly. "...myself and your Android, and the men he commands... would go out and demand tribute. So it goes."

You sigh. "So... it's every man for themselves?"

Fetter grins even wider. "Quite. Although they, your worms, tend to form into little groups. Clans and family groups, to help eachother. The weakest focus on gathering loot, pass on most of it to the stronger... And then the stronger take what they need... and the rest is taken by the stronger... But most are clever enough to save the best for, ah... you, my Lord."

So... no formal logistics. Strength rules. Absolutely brilliant, truly.

>>5981670
>>5981710
>>5981994

"Okay, cool. Right, uhm... Mister Johann?"
The mechanic perks up, saluting. "My lord!" He says. "Glory to your rei-" you wave a dismissive hand at him.
"Just... don't do that, okay? Can you show me the car? I mean, the rig? Murder rig?"
"Yes, my lord. Lead the..." He pauses, frowning. "If you would follow me, m'lord."

The rig is parked at the back of the Palace-Tent, in something of an improvised garage. The room is made up of tarps and corregated metal, and dimunative slaves scatter as you stride in. It is an alien vehicle to you, having driven a Smartcar for the past few years. It's... a tank? No, an APC? You think?
You walk around it, taking it in. It's a huge armoured truck, about 3 meters tall and 8 meters long. Three wheels sit on each side, with one at the front and two larger wheels close together at the rear, causing it to sit strangely with the vehicles nose pointed floorwards. Where you assume some sort of turret would've been on the base model - now sits a second vehicle... Some sort of Muscle car, welded straight onto the top. The car's roof is stripped away and a throne rises from the back. Various minor and major armaments are attached pretty much at random.

"The killblade is removed for repair, m'lord." Johann tells you, gesturing across the room to a modified bulldozer's bucket, festooned with spikes and barbed wire.
"It'll be readded immediately. We were repairing it and making your desired alterations."
You nod, and decide to enter your Murder-rig. A series of foot-holds lead up to the throne, and once sat down a feeling of power washes over you. This isn't as rough as you thought... but there are problems to deal with.

[Cont.]

>>5982485

Sat in your throne, you tally up all the problems.

You don't actually know who you can trust - Satan and Cynthia seem the best, but Cynthia openly confessed to slaughtering who-knows-how-many people just so she could "advise" you alone... and Satan's not said a single word, but is reportedly loyal to you.

The logistics situation is, obviously, another problem. You've seen compaies in roughly analgous positions and they tend to collapse, sometimes even going down for fraud when it becomes clear someone was taking from somewhere they shouldn't.

But that's a long term problem. Right now, you're expected to go into a battle pretty much blind. You don't know anything about these Bloodletters. Their numbers, their abilities, their resources. Everyone else seems confident, but you're still without almost all information.

So... what's the next step?

>[Actions:]
>Go into battle as expected, murder and kill.
>Go into battle but lead from the back.
>Avoid fighting.
>Write-in

Anonymous

>>5982525
>Tell your henchmen that you want a full accounting of every slave, warrior, & weapon in your warband to be prepared by the time you return; head into battle

>>5982625
I like this but there's no real way to do a census or inventory when a bunch of bodies and metal are about to vanish in the coming fight. Whatever numbers we get may also be inflated by those who seek to present themselves as stronger than the rest.

The idea of inventory taking is good but we should do it after the battle. We need our henchmen with us to help command or to ensure we make it out if things go bad.

>>5981647
>Letting your quest die is a moral failing.
Where the hell you think we are?

>>5982682
This guy has the point, the other two anons are missing the fucking point and also meta-fagging

>>5982525
>Go into battle as expected, murder and kill.

>>5982525
>>Go into battle as expected, murder and kill.

>>5982682
>>5983056
Agreed, we take inventory after the battle.

>>5983130
>>5983056
>>5982682

A census is impractical at this time. It's vital, though, but best left for further down the road.

"Cynthia."
She looks up at your throne, "Yes?"
"Bring me my weapons. Whatever's... the most spectacular. So others can see I'm in the battle."
She nods, then looks to Fetter. The two stare at one another, before the butler leaves.
"They're being brought, m'lord. So, you ARE fighting?"
"I don't see much choice. Tell me what's expected of me. How battles go down. That sorta thing."

"Satan and your Killboys can do all the actual work - driving, manning the guns. You just need to sit there and shoot at stuff, yell, try to avoid stray shots..."

You nod. "What did the Lord of Skulls do?"
"Similar. Sat there and made a show. Generally tried to get into a scrap with the other warlord, if he could. But once we're fightin', there's not much coordination. E'rryone shoots at whoever they want, even friends. Though most 'all have banners to minimize the chance of that by accident."

Fetter reenters, carrying an old military-style crate. Or, rather, old now. The sleekness of it and flashing lights make it look like a sci-fi prop.

"Master's phaseon cannon."

The crate opens with a hiss, and a strange gun sits inside. The grip and stock are, well, typical. Look like any old gun from 'War Duty X' - but the main body is covered in metal tubing, honeycomb-pattern wires, and flashing lights. The barrel is a thin tube with concentric circles decreasing in size down it's length. It looks like a Ray-Gun from a shitty B-movie.

Taking it from it's box, the gun's lighter than you thought, and comfortable to wield. You pull the trigger, aiming down at the sand, and it vaporizes a sphere about a half-meter in radius. Gone. The sand at the edges is glowing white. Holy shit.
Cynthia laughs, and Fetter grins wide.
"...If Master would like a slave to try it on... just to reaffirm master's great skill before the battle..."

It was just getting fun, but reality hits you. You are going into *battle* to KILL. To kill humans! To vaporize them! You've never killed before! You're an office worker! How are you...
"Master, you appear pale." Fetter tells you, snapping you out of it.
"Strange indeed, my liege, my master. To balk at bloodshed. Unlike you, truly. If I may be so bald, I daresay you'd not want to behead an upstart slave?" He bows deep.
 "Excuse me, of course. How could I say that our liege would be so cowardly. Master loves such violence. It must be an error, truly. A mistake on the part of Fetter, indeed. Forgive me." - a subtle, sly smile sits on his face. The first time he hasn't been grinning wide. A glance at Cynthia reveals concern.

"So, my lord. The slave...?"

>[Actions:]
>Get it over with - shoot one of the mechanic slaves.
>Prove Fetter wrong. Behead the misbehaving slave.
>He's baiting you. Hurt him.
>You don't have the time or the desire to kill someone here. Get ready to go out.
>You can't KILL- Return to your chambers

>>5983233
>Have Fetter and the slave whipped for insubordination
>Go into battle
We aren't weak, but we won't be killing people for no reason.

>>5983270
+1, but have Fetter whip himself & the slave, at the same time

>>5983233
>>5983270
He should be whipped for the implications of cowardice, + 1 to this.

>>5983270
>>5983233
Better idea, whip em both raw and make slave person the logistics guy. They're always hauling stuff so we'll make em keep count of the shit they haul!

Also we need to work out who's going to be the head of our new HR department to handle some on these unruly workers and get ready to hire new talent. I'd consider Cynthia since she already fired our harem but I think she's a better secretary, I like that venom. Reminds me of someone...

woofhound

No update today. Thread's not dead.
Big update tomorrow.
c+c welcome at this juncture.

>>5983684

Something changes in you as you look down at the apeish man. You feel colder, more distant. A passenger in your own body. A voice that's not quite yours speaks.

"Fetter. You will whip the slave until he is punished, but still able to do his duty. You will then whip yourself the same number of times. Do not bait me again."

He bows, smiling wider. Strange man.
"Of course, my lord. Forgive me for my... insolence." - he leaves the garage-area without another word.

[Stat Update: Warlord: +7. Office: +3.]

Now, to battle. Satan awaits with a crew of enormous, muscled men - you didn't see them enter.
"My lord." - the Android speaks. His voice is tinny, like an old phone connection, and he is trying to maintain a monotone, but it sounds difficult. Strained. - "This is your battle crew. May we board, and fight for your glory?"

You nod, and the crew lurch into motion, practising a well-rehersed dance of minute adjustments and preperation. Satan drives, testing the clutch and listening to the roar of the engine as he cycles through gears. A bald man on your left pushes his augmetic hand into a port, bringing a gun-array to life. An overwight man with dreadlocks is forward-right of you, checking the internals of an enormous speargun. Behind you, a darkskinned warrior does much the same - adjusting weapons.

They continue the process as the Kill-Rig rolls forward slowly, leaving the garage-tent behind. It picks up a little speed, but maintains about 20mph going towards the head of the massed forces - a spectacular sight. Two columns of vehicles, hundreds in number, sit ready. Between them, formed-up ranks of warriors mill about, jostling with one-another as they try to board improvised troop carriers or taking up firing positions on vehicles.

The Kill-Rig pulls infront of them, and a horn finds it's way to your hand.
BwaaaaAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRHHHHH!!!!!<wbr>!!!!!! - engines and men roar, and your force strikes out into the desert....

>>5986725

You're clinging onto the arms of your throne, rarely feeling safe enough to actually try to participate on the fight. The sound is deafening - gunshots, steel-smashing-on-steel, tearing and crashing and collisions. The screams of men maimed. Your kill-rig rolls over a spiked motorbike, sending the pilot flying under another car. Satan whips the wheel to the right, revving the engine almost to the point of failure - the whole 'rig launches into a drift, side-swiping an enemy car and sending them flying into a mass of infantry. Accelerating forward out of the drift, you're brought face-to-face with a triple-raised truck, the front festooned with skulls! Speeding towards you, the co-pilot opens fire. A chunk of your throne's blasted off, one of your gunners takes a bullet! The hostile driver steers towards you, a direct collision course.

Mere seconds before the impact! You...

>Leap left, letting your 'rig crash and burn.
>Charge forward and leap, trying to board them... but you'll still crash.
>Start shootin'.
>Write-in.

Anonymous

>>5980066
write it in a text document, or use google docs or writebox, then copy paste
This was a lifesaver for my quests after so many fucking captcha wipes

>>5986738
>Charge forward and leap, trying to board them... but you'll still crash.
cant show any cowardice in the middle of battle now

>>5986738
>Charge forward and leap, trying to board them... but you'll still crash.
Let the anger and hatred for our former boss fuel this battle!

>>5986738
>>Charge forward and leap, trying to board them... but you'll still crash.

>>5986738
We have a fucking phaseon cannon, blow them the fuck up (to minimize resource expenditure, lending itself to increased profits)

>>5987156
>>5986852
Shit you're right! Changing to blast the bitches away.

Still not dead. Started a new job. Update tomorrow, please forgive the slowness.

>>5990049
>still not dead
>update tomorrow
>that was 4 days ago
Just give up, fag

woofhound

>>5993306
I gave up. I feel so bad :(
I started a new job so I have sorta an excuse, but I'm still disappointed in myself.

Anonymous

Try again when you have developed some writing discipline. Just write a bit every day.


Ramel Evo

Ramelnon

A narrative evo game. Pick a creature, make a single iterative change to it that helps it to adapt to its environment.

Your creations may antagonize other player's creatures, defend themselves, adapt to an environment, or meet change through periodic "evolution table" events.

1. Always save your picture as a .png, and never use a soft edged painting tool. This allows other players to easily edit your creation should they wish, and lets less experienced people without developed artistic skill join in.

2. Any player can edit any creature. If two players edit the same creature that creates a split in the evolutionary line, which is great for biodiversity.

3. If a shitpost emerges, instead of complaining, try to herd it full circle back to plausibility. It's fun.
--------
The Cast:

The titular Ramel, a sort of warm blooded repto-insect with a blade on it's face and tail. An omnivore with a preference for delecious ragas berries or the occasional bord. Stupid, territorial, and asocial. A patrician choice for a sensible player.

The noble Ragas. A semi mobile plant that reproduces via berries. A mild acidic secretion allows it to break down soil for maximum extraction of nutrition, as well as any tough carrion, or incapacitated organisms it comes across.

The VILE Bord. Clearly a fucking bird with the audacity to be named bord. The Bord are more intelligent than the Ramel and will steal berries, or as a pack, attempt to take down the Ramel. Only a sick fuck would evolve this creature.

The Setting:

Borgas Alter 1: A near idyllic planet, with only three organisms.

Endless rolling hills and flatlands with a balmy, if humid environment are all that exist at this time. The closest it comes to rain is the morning and evening fogs, with no seasons. There are other, lesser, organisms, but pay them no heed.

>>5980223
Genesis: roll a 1d5 to drive your next evolution
----
Borgas Alter 1 was at it has always been. Placid. Calm. Predictable. This changed the day an errant series of explosions ripped through the atmosphere, and a strange mist fell to the ground.

----
1: Speedy- Get leaner with slightly longer limbs.
2: Tough- Get a better defense
3: Tusk- grow tusks, horns or spikes.
4: Brainy- Get a little smarter
5: Nasty- Become poisonous

Anonymous

Rolled 3 (1d5)

>>5980231
quick question, OP
do rolls and edits count as separate evos, or do I roll first and then have to draw the outcome?

Rolled 2 (1d5)

>>5980231
>The noble Ragas

Ramelnon

>>5980378
Mighty 3VNSttI0, your question is as wise as you are powerful. You can either draw a picture and roll, then draw another picture for your next evo, to incorporate that change.

or

Just roll and draw a picture.

The choice is yours, and I welcome it all.

Anonymous

Rolled 1 (1d5)

>>5980231
What will by my Bord gain...

>>5980223
The Bord has grown longer legs to better outrun the pathetic Ramel using it's new long beak to pierce through the tough hide and more easily pluck berries from the ground.

Rolled 4 (1d5)

>>5980231
One of the toxic waste disposal canisters hit a ramel straight in the head. It survived, if a little... dented.
This dented Ramel actually proved to be a success with the lady Ramels, as the density and width of its head plate made it resistant to the blades of its rivals, while still permitting a "shield bash" maneuver.
Its weakness is that its SMASHED and SLAMMED nature makes it difficult for it to breathe.

>>5980597
It seems the impact had also caused a mutation that drastically increased the Ramel's intelligence. They are born with a very high IQ, however this high IQ very quickly drops as they keep engaging in duels and using the spongy brain tissue as a shock absorber.

Ramelnon

Rolled 2 (1d5)

>>5980231
any the GM thought to himself "Why shouldn't I?" and so he played his own game. It was very masturbatory.
---
Some Ragas fields began to have fruit with spikey berries. Nothing too terrible, but it did give pause for the ramels who would choose to eat the less pokey fruits first. The bords just poked open the tougher skin of the berry all the same and feasted....like bastard bitches.
---
Overhead a container exploded onto the field.

Anonymous

>>5980607
The spikes become hooked. This doesn't stop Bords from pecking apart the larger berries... But this does mean the smaller ones sometimes get stuck in their feathers, being carried and spread around by the loathsome flightless bipeds.

Ramelnon

>>5980607
The hydraluic motion the plant used to slowly move around was now driving a new motion. Flailing when disturbed. The Flailberry Ragas will swing it's berries around like little clubs, and the most ripe berries will simply splatter on impact to proliferate seeds.

Most animals prefer the more nutrient dense immature berries.
-----------
>>5980378
>>5980380
We await you, for your seat at the table sits empty.

>>5980576
Some of the Long Bord became, well, longer. A Flexible spine and neck allowed the Bord to viciously puncture through the Ramel and Ragas with little problem. Mate length became important to this subspecies as, size did indeed matter.

Sometimes during mating duels, the defeated bord would be exsanguinated by the victor.
----------

For my players, these evolutions are exactly the pace of the game. Light, easy, snippets of story as you desire. Maybe a little cause and effect, its up to you how much effort to invest.

I made this Evo to fit my own life, where I can just do a quick edit between moments at work or home, because we don't always have the time we used to. I figure now there are enough examples for people to figure it out though.

Anonymous

>>5980504
many thanks
>>5980378
some of the utterly disgusting Bord in their reprehensible desire to dominate, grow a dysfunctional second beak at the top of their heads, with which they can stab the brave heroic Ramels trying to rid this world of these abominations.
Thus is born the Horny Bord, which would have been called "Horned" had it lived in a better world where Bords didn't exist

>>5980651
The hated redguard, Blad the Impaler, whose numerous crimes have tinted his coat crimson. His name is a sort of ironic joke, because instead of impaling things like other Bords do he just bludgeons them to death. Little jokes like these add a little spice to the brutal farce that is life.

Defeating him will yield one(1) Plot Point.

>>5980658
Amazed by Blad's violence, a flock of Horny Bords join his cause, painting their horns red with the blood of their enemies and allies alike.

>>5980662
Mohawk Bords have multiple beaks all over their head. By stabbing them into enemies they can color them red, and by eating sugary foods they can color them orange. These bords color their beaks as a fashion statement, and no two bords have the same color scheme. This is because when two bords with the same sequence of horn colors meet, they are bound by fate to duel to the death.

>>5980657
Horny Bords that somehow had the sense to not join Blad have grown slightly bigger from their more peaceful (but still violent) lifestyle, granting them enough intelligence to not immediately try and kill all life on sight.

Rolled 3 (1d5)

>>5980231
Rolling for the base Ramel(and rerolling if I get brainy again)

>>5980662
Blad's most loyal, and powerful followers have absorbed so much blood into their horns that nutrients have actually seeped into them making them both grow and permanently reddening them.
the enormous horns of Pike Bords enable Blad to [i] actually [/i] impale stuff

>>5980677
It was too big to be called a Ramel. Massive, thick, heavy, and far too rough. Indeed, it was a heap of raw horn. Although nominally a blade, the Heavy Ramel's horn is more correctly classified as a portable, readily applicable tombstone.

Ramelnon

Rolled 5 (1d5)

>>5980223
In response to the explosive population growth of the hated Bord, some Ramel became even more aggressive and territorial. Those with the most weaponized horns would go on to breed, and those that could not fed off the Bladdites, bladdies if you will, simply perished, going on to become simple chopping tools for the fiendish creatures.

>>5980695
The Poison Ramel is a based retard who sprays toxic mucous at it's enemies. A mild irritant at this point, in time it may grow to become ever more deadly.

Though one would hope the Poison Ramel would use it's newfound powers for good, it is just as content to spray other ramels in the face as it is a lowly bord. What a prick.

>>5980687
The Heavy Ramel gains thick, powerful hindquarters, and an ass that will not quit. This allows it to propel it's considerable bulk for short sprints and violent charges.

It is also now hungrier, a hungry, hungry, ramel...

Anonymous

Rolled 3 (1d5)

alright, ragas time
let's see what the roll gods give me

>>5980605
In a freak accident a Flat Ramel is born with it's faceplate and is unable to engage in duels causing it intelligence to remain high. With it's greater intelligence it found success breeding through trickery and cuckolding of the less intelligent Flat Ramel. Through breeding they have lost many of it's defensive measures and instead relies upon hiding to avoid predation.

>>5980796
some Ragas just develop thorns, for funsies, or because of radioactive waste, same thing really
these Thorned Ragas aren't as mobile as the normal ones, but because they're unpleasant to eat, they get to live longer and spread more berries.

>>5980658
>>5980679

The result of Blad the Impaler mating with his Pike Bord underlings to create a new subspecies. Perpetually caked in blood these new Gorebords are hyper aggressive to all not of their bloodline predating on Ramels and Bords alike. This most vile of creature has grown more corpulent due to its constant gluttony but did not carry over the interesting tool use of it's father.

>>5980801
Lumpy Ramels develop longer, stronger legs, becoming the taller and faster Glumpy Ramels who are better at running away from predation if their hiding efforts seem to have failed.

>>5980576

Despairing at the vileness among their fellow Bords and disgusted by the wickedness of Blad, the remaining Long Bords vow to reform and pick up sticks to defend themselves and protect other hapless creatures, becoming the noble(er) Bordladdins.

>>5980576
>>5980874
Sharing the sentiments of his fellow Bordladdin, Bord-Aladin would become a spiritual leader and renowned scholar in his quest to secure a virtuous future for the Longbord race. Through his studies, Bord-Aladin advanced Bordladdin craftsmanship, developing new methods of shaping wood and metal into tools and arms. As he discovered properties in raw materials and substances, he realized that a standardized language would be needed to spread word of his findings. Thus, he united the common elements of the balkanized Bord dialects under a new language called Bordanese. Simultaneously, he codified his spiritual and natural observations into a set of guidelines for Longbords and his Bordladdin brothers to live by. Bord-Aladin defined laws for Bordkind to develop organized society and morality around, proper ways of dress, what shall and shall not be eaten, and how to respect and worship what he referred to as the "Allbeak," the creator of existence and embodiment of good. His ideology would come to be known as Islong.

As Blad, Pikebords, and the Gorebord offspring spread destructiong and despair across the lands, he came to view Blad as an agent of the "Unbeak," archenemy of the Allbeak and embodiment of evil. Upon this conclusion, he rallied the Bordladdins and led a jihad, calling for the death of Blad, his followers, and his unholy offspring. However, Allbeak was merciful, so all Horny Bords and who were opposed to Blad would be embraced, and Gorebord young who were not yet guilty were made to repent for their race's evil and undergo thorough reeducation. Bordladdins would refer to this holy mission as the Great Jihad.

>>5980651
>>5981103
>all Horny Bords and who were opposed to Blad would be embraced
Longerbords were treated similarly.

>>5980801
>>5981142
The Hardback Ramel gets a tougher less flexible backside. While the weight makes it slower it also offer defense against the more aggressive Bord species

>>5980231

After a time the great meteor* shower ended, and for an evening all was calm. Then once more, it began anew, this time with increased vigor.
-----

Roll 3d5. The first roll determines what you get, the second two determine the intensity of the first and second trait within the roll.

1- Your environment was generously enhanced with solid waste fertilizer. Heaps of it. Loads. Just huge steaming dumps all over.
-Develop some form of digging
-Your creature smells bad.

2- Bulk medical waste has been spilled across the landscape, and with it exciting new synthetic hormones and stimulants.
- Grow stronger
- Die faster

3- semi functional e-waste lays embedded in the ground, flickering and offering light and noise in the night, at least until the radioactive batteries go inert
- Develop enhanced night vision
- Suffer from lethargy during the day and albinism

4- Powdered metallics and silica released high into the atmosphere, blotting out the sun for a bit, its fine. a little cold, but fine. The rain will eventually wash it away.
-Grow some form of fur, denser feathering, hibernation, burrowing, or other method to combat the cold
-Suffer from tumors

5- A swarm of neural modifying nano machines (son), have been released. A little too defective for their original users the life forms of this planet find them to be fine, even with that weird side effect.
-Just be a better version of yourself
-Hunger for the flesh of your own kind.

Rolled 5, 3, 3 = 11 (3d5)

>>5980673
the peaceful Horny Bords, subsisting now mostly on berries and the occassional Ramel meat, grow ever so slightly taller than before, now having a stable and nutritious diet.

>>5981252
>>5981152
empowered by the foreign machines, Horny Bords grow larger brains, becoming more intelligent, their evil emotions easier to control, but also far more intense than before.
The disgusting, reprehensible, abominable, disgusting Horny Bord now not only desires the flesh of its kin literally, but also carnally.

>>5980804
Instead of growing several berries the Extra Thorny Ragas grows one single large berry leaving more room for protective thorns on it's vines

>>5981281
something tries to eat the berry, is instead killed by the plant, and then it uses it's bones as armor

>>5981152
>>5980874
>>5981300

>Grows far stronger then Bordladdins.
>Only dies a little faster, dies doing what it loves.
>Beats down Blad and the Gorebords without breaking a sweat.
>Doesn't even care.

>>5980857
Stuck in massive amounts of waste the Glumpy Ramel has developed a modified digging claw to tunnel amongst the waste. With the horrific stench warding off many predators the Stunky Ramel has evolved a sac at the tip of it's tail that emulates the stench.

>>5980629
Due to the decreased temperature many creatures have retreated into caverns with the flailberry ragas following them. To avoid most creatures the ragas has burrowed into the ceiling of the caves using it's now singular tumorous flail to bash any creatures who enter it's domain. It will then crawl down the walls to collect the corpse to consume before returning to it's nest in the ceiling.

>>5980857
>>5981302
Because the Glumpy Ramels lack spikes of any form, the Bordchaddins have started mounting these majestic beasts as steeds. To bond with a steed, a Bordchaddin will suplex it directly on its soft head, giving it devastating brain damage and making it largely docile, if prone to sudden and violent rage.

>>5981439
This Ragas has devised a new, more effective bashing strategy that does not endanger its seeds; it picks up a rock from the ground, crawls onto the ceiling, then waits until an animal passes under it. It then drops the rock directly onto the animal's skull, killing it instantly

Ramelnon

>>5980808
>>5981144
>>5981299
HOT NEW FEATURES
You may link and evo multiple creatures in a single turn, either as separate events, or a tangled narrative.
---
>>5980808
The Gorebord is successful in what it does, unperturbed, bothered, in it's lane, and gorging. It has grown more corpulent to be sure, and can often be seen utilizing springs of dried plant or even bone to assist in it's journey towards the next meal.
>>5981144
Hardback Ramels have grown a shear like maw and a rocky texture to their hide. These Ramels will use their tongue to bait dumber or juvenile bords towards their mouth where the shearing action of their jaws takes care of the rest. 80% of the time, it works every time.
>>5981262
Horney bords nanomachines (son), continue to proliferate in their bodies, enhancing their horn into something more deadly.
>>5981299
This needed a picture and is too fucking dope to pass up. The bones are held in place with secretions. irresistible secretions. forbidden secretions. mostly sap though.
>>5981427
This fucker right here grows a large pheromone laced tail that just sinks to high hell. Fucking bad. real bad. The head is also crested to protect from rivals goring them with those nasty little claws.
---
AN EVENT, for those that dare to read this far....
!!!Hybrid speciation!!!

Pick two organisms from the same starting lineage, and attempt to cross breed them. Roll a 1d5 to determine the success and then draw.

1. A deformed and hideous horror made of the worst traits of both parents, kill it with fire, likely to be a parasite if it is to survive it's wretched existence.
2. Sickly, a bit thin even, maybe sort of short, but otherwise serviceable. Neurotic, paranoid. Skittish. Prone to fleeing or hiding.
3. Average at best, maybe a little disappointing. It lacks vicious instincts and may be somewhat kindly, however it does feature both parents features equally.
4. An improvement, it boats the key features of both parents, but elevated, a natural predator, it is driven by instinct and a profound need for violence against it's ancestors.
5. The Ur-Organism, the Giga Chad. A perfect synthesis of the best traits and then some of the two constituent organisms. Smarter, Stronger, Faster.

Anonymous

>>5981942
>>5981926
>>5980707
While the Heavy Stonecutter Ramel features traits from both it's parent species, it's diet isn't able to fully support it's blade armor and tail. As a result it has lost the blade like tip on it's tail, it's armor is missing pieces and the blade has become slightly jagged. Luckily it maintains the hunting methods of both it's predecessors allowing it to feed both on juvenile Bords while preservering energy by using it's tongue as well go after bigger more dangerous Bord species

>>5981940
>>5981926

When a Horny Bord first took carnal knowledge of a Gorebord the most horrid creature ever known was created. The Horny Gorebord is a truly vile creature that exists only to consume others and enjoy the carnal pleasures of life. In pursuit of greater kills has lead to them forming primitive tribal groups where they adorn themselves with the stinky secretions of the gorefruit.

>>5980874
Woborddins are those Bordladdin's that emerged victorious in combat against their hated kin, the Gorebords. Replacing their stick with a horn, the bords could be found dueling and endlessly battling, as if under a malign influence from the gorebord horn. dark things indeed.

In the end they would find themselves falling to profound need for slaughter and rallying around Blad>>5980658

or

They overcame their desires, and found solace in the teachings of Bord-Aladin.
---

Within this word, there are emerging prototribes.

-Bladdite Unbeakers
-Allbeakists
->>598145
and the Chad outriders

>>5982000
>>5981926
>>5980808
>>5981958
The questionable compatability of Horny Bord and Gorebord did however not only produce good results. Some specimens ended up with deformed beaks and horns, their feathers unable to properly absorb blood, leaving it to oxidize and leave a hard brown crust all over them. Their legs are short like their horny bord parents, and their bellies fat like gorebords.

Though they inherited the great violence of their gorebord parents, they use it exclusively to satiate the carnal desires of their horny bord parents ancestry.

These evil, disgusting, reprehensible, vile, abominable, foul, horrid, repulsive, atrocious, nasty, dreadful creatures are known to us only as Ugly Bordstards

>>5982006
The Scramel. What it lacked in any form of intelligence or ability to breath without gagging and wheezing, it more than made up for in pure aggression, stamina, and...well, it was pretty stupid and angry, but it also had quite the tail blade, hammer head, and ability to spray a vile toxin.

Scramels would compete against Heavy Stonecutters for prime grazing territory, and against the smarter bords, who were eyeballing it for parts.

>>5981926
Walking on claw tips isn't very fun, or stable, so the Stunky Ramels have found some solutions to this problem. The Stinky Runmel simply stops using its forelimbs for locomotion, now using them exclusively for digging. All its weight is concentrated on its two back legs, which have gotten stronger and larger to compensate. The Runmel's gait is balanced by its enlarged tail, the armored tip of which hides its soft and vulnerable scent gland when not in use.
The Buff Stinkmel, on the other hand, adopts a "knuckle-dragging" posture, its armored "hands" now taking the brunt of the walking off its claws. To increase its digging capacity, the Stinkmel's muscles have monstrously grown, as did its pungency. Even one of these creatures is enough to make the surrounding area smell of sweaty jockstraps and protein powder for MILES.

>>5982011
The Scramel's tail slightly elevates on its body so it can take wider and stronger swings with it.

>>5980857
Some Glumpy Ramel just get taller. It is unknown if this is because it is harder for Bordchaddins to ride these taller specimens, or if Ramel are being bred taller by Bordchaddins because Bordchaddins to prefer to ride the more difficult tall Ramels just to show off their Swag.

I have nothing to add, but I am enjoying the view. Thank you for your efforts.

Ramelnon

>>5985263

The sky above Borgas Alter 1 (henceforth A1) was oddly hazy today, streaks of what were nominally contrails crisscrossed the sky while the creatures noticed the water tasted funnier, and that the air itself was full of some sort of buzz just below an audible level. It was all quite disturbing. More disturbing were the earthquakes, shifts in weather, and changing temperatures.

Well players, shit is only going to get weirder from here on out. It is encouraged to create species that will be useful to you in the future. What you define as useful is entirely subjective. Surely this game will not end in a series of violent genocides between player tribes. surely.

--------------------
General
1- Omnivore
2- Geophagia
3-Evolve to forage Ragas
4-Evolve to hunt Ramels (specifiy a prey organism)
5-Evolve to hunt Bords

Ramel
1- Spiked + armored Carapace + Tusks
2- Amphibious + digging
3- Fur + warmblood
4- Extendable tongue + enhanced vision +
5- Prehensile tail + primitive communication + pack behavior

Ragas
1- Become Tree + gigantic
2- Become fungal
3- Become parasitic
4- Become Mobile
5- Become Sapient

Bord
1- Flight + enhanced vision
2- Swimming + electromagnetic sense
3- Running + nocturnal
4- Tool making + Fire
5- Family social dynamic + primitive language

>>5985446
Roll a 2d5 for your organism. 1st table applies to all, second table applies to the organism you choose.

You may post multiple organisms in one image.
--------
"Sweet fucking mother of egg!"
-Hugo Package Bord Sr.

Anonymous

Rolled 3, 5, 4, 5, 4, 5, 1, 3, 1, 5, 4, 3 = 43 (12d5)

>>5981926
>>5981958
>>5982007
>>5982297

Rolling for (in order)
Gorebord
Hornybord
Hornygorebord
Fat Bordstard
Gore fruit
Stinky Runmel

>>5985652
Having run out of prey to hunt in some of their habitats, some Gorebord populations have instead turned to vegetarianism, growing longer arms to more easily pick ragas. This peaceful life has made them more social, to the point that they form small family units that stick together for life, becoming Vegegorians.
To facilitate better communication with one another, Vegegorians have developed little holes on their beaks, covered by skinflaps, to create a variety of whistling noises. These peaceful creatures have little need for weapons violence, returning their once blood crusted feathers back to their original color.

Hornybords are becoming increasingly more intelligent, and in the process, more violent. Having begun hunting Ramels exclusively, by forming packs and ramming their huge horns into them, these malicious carnivores have developed a horn-covered forehead to protect their bigger brains during charges, as well as a fashionable air-sac with which they can communicate longer and louder to coordinate their attacks

Horny Gorebords as well have taken to the hunting of Ramels, but they have little need for nerd shit like "tactics" and "talking" they instead use their newly acquired pack-instincts to turn hunts into competitions of strength.
No longer fighting among one another, the survivors the hunts become buffer and buffer until they are so buff that they can communicate with their fellow hunters solely by the flexing of their muscles.
Because of their impressive physique, these creatures are simply known as Gorelords.

Constantly struggling to survive, the Ugly Bordstard has taken to simply eat whatever it can get its hands on, fighting lesser creatures for their kills, powering through the pain of ragas defense mechanisms, and using its misshapen beak as a weapon to substitute for its dysfunctional horn, resulting in a strong all-purpose beak.
Driven into the night by stronger creatures, the Ugly Bordstard's naturally brown coloring has made them nearly invisible in the dark, and being constantly on the run has given them short, but powerful legs.

(cut)

>>5985701
(cont)

Because of their great success in killing its own predators, Gorefruits have grown larger and managed to save up enough nutrients to develop a large nutrient-bulb underneath, which distributes both stored nutrients as well as nerve signals through the plant's body, effectively making it a miniature brain.
In large numbers, they can interlock and become more than the sum of their parts, developing so much intelligence they become not just self-aware, but fully sapient, earning these plants the name Brainfruit.
Using their enormous intellect, Brainfruit can and will try to kill everything that isn't a fellow Brainfruit, so that they may grow and become even smarter.

To stabilize their bipedal running even further, Stinky Runmels have grown long tails with which they can remain upright without falling over. Their stinkgland has moved at the end of this tail, which has become bright red like a ragas berry so they can sit down and lure stupid Ramels in, so that when they try to eat these "berries" a powerful stinkblast instantly kills them and the Runmel can feed on them.
This bizarre lifestyle has caused them to grow fur to better blend with the environment, but also become warmblooded to survive the winters more easily.
Being as stinky as they are and now also having fur, Stinky Runmels are now Stinky Ratmels

>>5985446
OP, could you compose a lineage tree / mark some of the early versions as extinct (as in there are no more left because all of them evolved to something else), please?
>>5985504
very cool image

Ramelnon

Rolled 1, 3, 2, 3, 3, 4, 3, 3, 4, 1, 3, 2, 1, 1, 5, 2 = 41 (16d5)

>>5985760
Anon, at first I was going to be a better QM. Then I realized I am pretty much a shit QM, and I said "everything is still alive to evo, but fucking up the latest renditions of things is usually most fun, however some people might like the classics."

Also that chart....man...I am tired. T i r e d. Not too tired to run this quest, but too tired to do things that feel like my regular job.

>>5982007
>>5985137
>>5985207
>>5981947
>>5982005
>>5980668
>>5980658
>>5980624
My contribution to this event.

Anonymous

>>5986879
as If a greater intelligence in a far away basement laboratory of some forsaken space station observed the planet, the creatures evolved towards future uses.
----
The Rockwool Ramel was an offshoot the glumpy ramel. It's asbestos like fur prevented Bordchaddins from mounting it due to the VICIOUS jock itch caused by such hair. This growth was in turn fueled by the ramel's propensity to eat dirt and rock.

The Scrammel. Another dirt eater, also hairy, but unlike it's cousin most of it's mineral content is deposited on it's hide and bones, so much so that over time the Scrammels will rust. It does not perturb them one bit as they graze the land. (and spray blinding acids into the faces of their harassers)

The Shedding Ramel looks ferocious, but its actually a pretty good dude. It sheds it's exoskeleton over time, always growing more. A long tongue allows it to snatch ragas berries away from the host plant without dealing with their usual bullshit of poison, spores, spikes, or other misery. Even with spikes, a powerful and bony maw makes short work of the countermeasures. fuck ragas plants. all my homies hate ragas plants.

Sporefruit Ragas fill their fruits with deadly spores and when disturbed emit a lethal cloud of choking and parasitic spores. Bords that survive the interaction are infested and if weakened, will succumb to the spores. Their bodies mark the ground where a new ragas field will soon grow...

The Ugly Bordstard has adapted to night stalking, it will mate with the unwary then quickly flee before they rouse.

The RamelBord is aptly named as it hunts ramels. It's large and flexible wings allow it to confuse the simpler beasts before it delivers the killing blow with it's modified beak.

The pockbord dwells primarily in shallow lakes and along freshwater beaches. It's body is covered in electrosensitive pockmarks which it uses to hunt smaller organisms.

Blord. A cruel evolution of the Blad. It can fly. Blords will often patrol their territory killing anything they can, like some sort of avian hornet.

yeah, i know whats it like to be a lazy OP
anyways, here is the bord tree
i may or may not make the other species, but dont count on it

>>5987244
no offense but there's some mistakes in that tree that I just had to fix

>>5987244
>no offense
im actually glad you did

>>5985703
The Brainfruit has developed an advanced network of nutrients and hormones. The network uses its advanced intelligence to observe how individual Brainfruit perform at their given task, and then diverts nutrients from worst Brainfruit to best, essentially culling the unfit and boosting the already strong. Through this process of artificial selection, the rate at which this plant is evolving has been greatly increased, as was the purposefulness of the evolution.
Sometimes they include other breeds of Ragas in the network. While these can't contribute to the colony's intelligence, they often have other useful traits such as toxic spores.

>>5987227
Darkblad was one of Blad's many descendants. Initially overlooked as a flightless cripple because of his missing wings, Darkblad quickly proved himself as a coldblooded killer when he massacred an entire pack of Gorelords at age 1. At some point, he has acquired the cursed longsword of legend, Demonbordt, which pierces the heart of anyone it strikes. Allegedly, this sword had fallen from the skies themselves. Ever since then, Darkblad has become obsessed with "Reunion" and "the will of the world", and he will stop at nothing to achieve them...

Rolled 4 (1d5)

>>5980223
Rollin for Ragas

Bloud Strife<br>he's a big fan of Darkblad

>>5987383
Was smart. Got one-year plan. Started looting corpses and exchanging gold for diamonds, the latter being DENSLY PACKED in nutritious carbon. Some say it found its jewish roots.

Ramelnon

>>5987398
>>5987386
>>5987382
>>5987372

I eagerly await developments. The world is changing. Times are changing. Can you feel it? In the air tonight?

It feels like the stirrings of greatness, the call to a new stage. a new map needs to be made for this shitheap. We need to evolve the world.

Anonymous

>>5981926
The Gorefruit's vine limbs become longer, more dexterous and more covered allowing it to easier kill anything that tries to eat it and becoming the Killerfruit

>>5980223
The Poisonous Ragas has stared its acids in its berries making them less tasty and more likely to hurt anyone trying to eat them.

>>5981530
Having had a lot of succes with dropping rocks the Blade Berry Ragas has grown a stronger and longer flail and now drops the blade of a Heavy Ramel. Unfortunately while this is more deadly it is also easier to spot to its succes rate when hunting dropped

>>5985207
Eventually, some of them become so tall, they can be categorized as a new species: the Glumpier Ramel.

>>5982007
a genetic fluke has granted it more intelligence enough to see that the world is ugly its UNEVEN

>>5981926
>>5990849
The longneck Ramel grows a longer neck to easier reach Ragas and water without having to bend over.

For both camouflage and to appear better protected than it is the complete body of the Stonebody Ramel takes on the coloration as its rockyhide like armor