A baby wiki warrior lands in the Forever Winter world. Get out of there, stupid!
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A Randomizer in the Forever War (SI-OC in THE FOREVER WINTER; multi x-over later)
- Thread starter Trieze
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Statistics (2 threadmarks, 1.8k words)
User Total Trieze 2 Threadmarks Reader mode
1.1 - First Steps
New
Trieze
The man from Nowhere, next stop Anywhere.
- Joined
- May 24, 2018
- Messages
- 898
- Likes received
- 8,372
A Randomizer in the Forever War (SI-OC in THE FOREVER WINTER; multi x-over later)
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1.1 - First Steps
A violent headache snaps me awake, and that's how I found myself in what looked like some underground complex. Stabbing pains lanced behind my eyes, bright spots bursting in my vision as I gasped quietly, wincing as I tried to nurse this God-awful pain in my head. Finally, I managed to blink away the bright spots in time to notice a blinking dot of light in front of me.
Rolls? What is this, all of a sudden? For that matter, where in the Hell am I? Why is it so damn cold?
...looking down, I find myself relieved that I have my clothes on, plus the feel of the thermal underlayers under my shirt and jeans. Fortunate, considering that the last thing I remember was going to bed in my underwear as usual, and that there were ice-cold winds whipping up a bunch of SAND in my face at that very moment! Can't I get a break?!?
Just like that, a new window pops up, and the blurb read;
And with that, the beachfront seemed to ripple before taking on a distinctly tropical look, with coconut-bearing palm trees growing at accelerated time-lapse speeds until fully fruited. The sky was now bright and sunny, and the climate was pleasantly warm and balmy, but more than enough to get me to start sweating in my clothes. Summer clothing, they most certainly were not.
With that, another window appeared. With one glance, I could tell whatever was happening to me decided to add a feature that directly attacked my fragile self-esteem.
And so I ran. Into the underpass behind me, and on and on until I reached what was left of a parking lot. But I was never in any good shape, and it showed as I nursed a stitch in my side, wheezing as I found myself maybe twenty-five feet away from the transformed beach, and the weather was the piercing cold that I had initially experienced upon waking up.
I ended up taking in the stereotypical post-apocalyptic feature of burnt-out cars, with one or two of them even featuring a skeleton or two. More alarmingly, there were corpses that seemed fresher by comparison scattered all over the place. These bodies drew my gaze, considering they looked a lot like soldiers from two distinctly different polities.
I couldn't help but say the Simpsons line, "Jeez... what's with all the death?" (Hey, I love that show, sue me.) This, even though I had a pretty good idea of what had happened at some point in the past. But I didn't recognize the soldiers off-hand, and the strange-looking designs on the flag patches didn't twig my memory, either. It reminded me of that old Eighties movie with that terrible remake, but the bodies were numerous enough that I couldn't count them off-hand at a glance. Tropes being what they were, however, I reached down to pick up what looked like some random AK-type from one of the soldier corpses before reaching out to paw at the body itself, looking for supplies and extra ammo.
I got lucky, considering that the soldiers' combat webbing had specific pouches containing the AK's equally iconic sickle-curved mags and that my puffy jacket had some pockets big enough to hold them. I ended up stripping nine full mags from three different soldiers before the big pockets felt full to bursting, not counting the AK mag already loaded in place that I had filled up from other half-spent mags. I could be a bit obsessive about that sort of thing, even though I'd never shot a gun in all my life.
As I worked my way through the pockets of the other dead soldiers, I found a box of cookies that I scarfed down, followed quickly by two bags of potato chips and a half-full canteen that I quickly drained.
Then, as I was inspecting my new weapon, my head flared with another splitting headache, and that familiar text window opened up in my mind's eye. God help me, was the pain going to be a feature of this strange new power of mine?
True to the window blurb's word, a book suddenly popped into existence. It looked well-read, and the title on the cover was a long string of French that I couldn't translate, only recognizing the name "Châtillon" in it . But, having no use for the book, I simply slipped it into some random burnt-out car husk on a whim. I mean, what the Hell was I gonna do with some book that I couldn't even read?
This post-apocalyptic world that I'd been isekai'd was just raring to kick my teeth in, though. I hadn't gotten that much further away from the beach, and while it was nice to load up on supplies and a much-needed weapon and ammo, I really had to get moving.
So I squared my shoulders and started walking up the closest path. Ultimately to where, I still hadn't figured out yet...
**********************************************************************************
TBC...
*******************************************************************
1.1 - First Steps
A violent headache snaps me awake, and that's how I found myself in what looked like some underground complex. Stabbing pains lanced behind my eyes, bright spots bursting in my vision as I gasped quietly, wincing as I tried to nurse this God-awful pain in my head. Finally, I managed to blink away the bright spots in time to notice a blinking dot of light in front of me.
Rolls? What is this, all of a sudden? For that matter, where in the Hell am I? Why is it so damn cold?
...looking down, I find myself relieved that I have my clothes on, plus the feel of the thermal underlayers under my shirt and jeans. Fortunate, considering that the last thing I remember was going to bed in my underwear as usual, and that there were ice-cold winds whipping up a bunch of SAND in my face at that very moment! Can't I get a break?!?
Just like that, a new window pops up, and the blurb read;
15 - 16
Roll for permanence: 1d20 (18)
The poisoned shoreline that was once beachfront property for the city of Lost Angels has now been transformed into the Emerald Hill Zone,
Because of this high roll, this effect stretches from Crystal Cove to Topanga Beach and will permanently be unaffected by any ecologically-devastating weaponry or industrial pollution from this point forward. Not that you know where exactly those specific locations are placed...
The offshore waters will remain eternally pure and uncontaminated, but a nat20 roll would've allowed the water-purification effect to eventually spread across the worlds' oceans.
Roll for permanence: 1d20 (18)
The poisoned shoreline that was once beachfront property for the city of Lost Angels has now been transformed into the Emerald Hill Zone,
Because of this high roll, this effect stretches from Crystal Cove to Topanga Beach and will permanently be unaffected by any ecologically-devastating weaponry or industrial pollution from this point forward. Not that you know where exactly those specific locations are placed...
The offshore waters will remain eternally pure and uncontaminated, but a nat20 roll would've allowed the water-purification effect to eventually spread across the worlds' oceans.
And with that, the beachfront seemed to ripple before taking on a distinctly tropical look, with coconut-bearing palm trees growing at accelerated time-lapse speeds until fully fruited. The sky was now bright and sunny, and the climate was pleasantly warm and balmy, but more than enough to get me to start sweating in my clothes. Summer clothing, they most certainly were not.
With that, another window appeared. With one glance, I could tell whatever was happening to me decided to add a feature that directly attacked my fragile self-esteem.
ATTENTION IN HIGH PLACES
Reward: one (1) roll series
Congratulations, dillweed, you've officially managed to get the attention of figures that no one with any brains wants to draw. Get out of there, stupid!
Reward: one (1) roll series
Congratulations, dillweed, you've officially managed to get the attention of figures that no one with any brains wants to draw. Get out of there, stupid!
And so I ran. Into the underpass behind me, and on and on until I reached what was left of a parking lot. But I was never in any good shape, and it showed as I nursed a stitch in my side, wheezing as I found myself maybe twenty-five feet away from the transformed beach, and the weather was the piercing cold that I had initially experienced upon waking up.
I ended up taking in the stereotypical post-apocalyptic feature of burnt-out cars, with one or two of them even featuring a skeleton or two. More alarmingly, there were corpses that seemed fresher by comparison scattered all over the place. These bodies drew my gaze, considering they looked a lot like soldiers from two distinctly different polities.
I couldn't help but say the Simpsons line, "Jeez... what's with all the death?" (Hey, I love that show, sue me.) This, even though I had a pretty good idea of what had happened at some point in the past. But I didn't recognize the soldiers off-hand, and the strange-looking designs on the flag patches didn't twig my memory, either. It reminded me of that old Eighties movie with that terrible remake, but the bodies were numerous enough that I couldn't count them off-hand at a glance. Tropes being what they were, however, I reached down to pick up what looked like some random AK-type from one of the soldier corpses before reaching out to paw at the body itself, looking for supplies and extra ammo.
I got lucky, considering that the soldiers' combat webbing had specific pouches containing the AK's equally iconic sickle-curved mags and that my puffy jacket had some pockets big enough to hold them. I ended up stripping nine full mags from three different soldiers before the big pockets felt full to bursting, not counting the AK mag already loaded in place that I had filled up from other half-spent mags. I could be a bit obsessive about that sort of thing, even though I'd never shot a gun in all my life.
As I worked my way through the pockets of the other dead soldiers, I found a box of cookies that I scarfed down, followed quickly by two bags of potato chips and a half-full canteen that I quickly drained.
Then, as I was inspecting my new weapon, my head flared with another splitting headache, and that familiar text window opened up in my mind's eye. God help me, was the pain going to be a feature of this strange new power of mine?
4 - 7
Roll for permanence: 1d20 (11)
A book written about the history and members of the long-extinct French noble House of Châtillon of Champagne. Because of the middling roll, it's in worn condition. Besides, you can't even read French!
Roll for permanence: 1d20 (11)
A book written about the history and members of the long-extinct French noble House of Châtillon of Champagne. Because of the middling roll, it's in worn condition. Besides, you can't even read French!
True to the window blurb's word, a book suddenly popped into existence. It looked well-read, and the title on the cover was a long string of French that I couldn't translate, only recognizing the name "Châtillon" in it . But, having no use for the book, I simply slipped it into some random burnt-out car husk on a whim. I mean, what the Hell was I gonna do with some book that I couldn't even read?
This post-apocalyptic world that I'd been isekai'd was just raring to kick my teeth in, though. I hadn't gotten that much further away from the beach, and while it was nice to load up on supplies and a much-needed weapon and ammo, I really had to get moving.
So I squared my shoulders and started walking up the closest path. Ultimately to where, I still hadn't figured out yet...
**********************************************************************************
TBC...
Last edited:
1.2 - Slow Moving
New
Trieze
The man from Nowhere, next stop Anywhere.
- Joined
- May 24, 2018
- Messages
- 898
- Likes received
- 8,372
1.2 - Slow Moving
Walking this path was a slog and a half. Snow crunched beneath my sneakers and I could only wonder how they'd last before they'd inevitably fall to pieces, especially since it didn't look like I could get my hands on another set anytime soon. Well, aside from stripping the boots off of some soldier corpse,, but there's still time before I have to go that far.
Heh. That far. It is to laugh. I liked to keep at least somewhat aware of myself, and whatever passed for my morality slide.
I'd already robbed a bunch of dead soldiers of a gun and ammo, plus food. What's stripping boots off bodies by comparison? As for eating them? As in cannibalism? God only knows when that would happen, or even how. But I recognized the trope as one of those dark cliches that tends to pop up in boilerplate post-apocalyptic stories as a sign of the species' degeneration into feral barbarism. Between that old saw about mankind was three meals away from anarchy, and the fact that this new world around me was some kind of fresh Hell on Earth... well,, I have no intention of dying.
Just like that, however, a familiar agonizing twinge in my head made me flinch, just as a new text box opened up in front of me, all augmented reality-style and everything.
Oh, brilliance. Even my cosmic patron, whoever the Hell that might be, was apparently feeling just enough buyer's remorse that I could twinge that skinflint's pity-bone.
And with that, what looked like a sheet of parchment slowly fell into my sight, like leaves falling off of a tree in autumn. Grabbing it for a closer look, letting my new AK rest on its sling for the moment, I frowned at the sight of faded colors blurring out whatever features of physical landmarks that might have lead to whatever mythical untapped oilfield that pop-up box had been going on about. Never mind finding it, but tapping it? Yeesh. I folded up that surprisingly solid-feeling sheet of vellum before stuffing the small square into an inner pocket.
Now for roll number two. Fingers crossed for a game-changer... hey! It's not hurt-!
...and just like that, a man of unremarkable looks suddenly appeared. He looked like he was in his sixties, and he was dressed as one would of a man his age looking to spend the night indoors at home - a comfortable robe over a set of pinstriped pajamas and thick slippers on his feet. Looking around him in bewilderment, he exclaimed, "What the Hell-?!?" When he noticed me, he made a beeline for me. "You!" he demanded. "Where am I? What am I doing here?"
I just shook my head. Another dud. My nonexistent experience with Dungeons and Dragons notwithstanding, I was on a fairly poor roll streak. "Relax, dude, you'll be back at... home, I'm guessing, given your outfit. After that, it'll just seem like a really weird dream."
He opened his mouth to say something, but then disappeared. I wish I could go back home the same way. I didn't even know what this cheat power of mine was even doing, because it was so random.
Wait. Maybe that was the point. The sheer randomness of it all. Neither good, nor bad, just chaos.
The fact that I was so hard up for a turn in my personal fortunes meant that I actually welcomed the sheer condescension of my illusive patron's generosity.
True to the blurb delivering my patron's word, a village just appeared out of nowhere. Doing a quiet Curly whoop to myself, I made a break to my left, climbing over the low barrier and scaling the bent and warped chain-link fence with some difficulty (owing to my weight) before jumping down to the other side. Knowing that the inhabitants would probably get killed as a result of what I'd just done was unfair to them, but I just couldn't trust myself to be able to help them. That, and I couldn't speak Spanish, either.
I finally stopped running after making a right behind one of the rundown buildings and let myself breathe for a few minutes.
...I might as well see what I've done to myself this time while I was at it.
So, effectively, a dud. Got it. Ignoring the unnerving sound of the wind that now sounded like bullets just barely keeping from grazing me that now kept whistling in my ears, I rolled again.
As if to accentuate the infobox's assertion, a loud shotgun blast can be heard. Followed by another, and then a third. The sound of people shouting, "¡Es un demonio!", which was obviously translated as, "It's a demon!" in English, could be heard amidst the additional shotgun blasts.
Needless to say, I left them to their fates, whatever it might be.
True to my patron's word, a pamphlet for something called "capy games" appeared in my hands. I leafed through it, found out that it was some small, independent game development studio in Canada who had made some title that I'd never heard of, and then tossed it.
Gee. thanks a lot for nothing, my cheat power.
That unhelpful summary heralded the town's Wikipedia article, sans reference, engraving itself into my memory with a searing-hot stabbing pain in my forehead that drove me to my knees from sheer agony. It took all I had just to keep from screaming at the pain, but by the time that fresh migraine had faded away, I was staring down the barrel of a gun.
***************************************************
TBC...
Walking this path was a slog and a half. Snow crunched beneath my sneakers and I could only wonder how they'd last before they'd inevitably fall to pieces, especially since it didn't look like I could get my hands on another set anytime soon. Well, aside from stripping the boots off of some soldier corpse,, but there's still time before I have to go that far.
Heh. That far. It is to laugh. I liked to keep at least somewhat aware of myself, and whatever passed for my morality slide.
I'd already robbed a bunch of dead soldiers of a gun and ammo, plus food. What's stripping boots off bodies by comparison? As for eating them? As in cannibalism? God only knows when that would happen, or even how. But I recognized the trope as one of those dark cliches that tends to pop up in boilerplate post-apocalyptic stories as a sign of the species' degeneration into feral barbarism. Between that old saw about mankind was three meals away from anarchy, and the fact that this new world around me was some kind of fresh Hell on Earth... well,, I have no intention of dying.
Just like that, however, a familiar agonizing twinge in my head made me flinch, just as a new text box opened up in front of me, all augmented reality-style and everything.
4 - N/A
This is the second time you've rolled a bad one. Might not be your last, but it certainly doesn't bode well for you, now does it?
Tell you what, you get two (2) pity rolls because I feel sorry for you.
This is the second time you've rolled a bad one. Might not be your last, but it certainly doesn't bode well for you, now does it?
Tell you what, you get two (2) pity rolls because I feel sorry for you.
Oh, brilliance. Even my cosmic patron, whoever the Hell that might be, was apparently feeling just enough buyer's remorse that I could twinge that skinflint's pity-bone.
And with that, what looked like a sheet of parchment slowly fell into my sight, like leaves falling off of a tree in autumn. Grabbing it for a closer look, letting my new AK rest on its sling for the moment, I frowned at the sight of faded colors blurring out whatever features of physical landmarks that might have lead to whatever mythical untapped oilfield that pop-up box had been going on about. Never mind finding it, but tapping it? Yeesh. I folded up that surprisingly solid-feeling sheet of vellum before stuffing the small square into an inner pocket.
Now for roll number two. Fingers crossed for a game-changer... hey! It's not hurt-!
5 - 1
Roll for permanence - 7
Andrew Parks, veteran actor of stage and screen but not of any particular celebrity, gets summoned here. Calm your man-boobs, dude, he'll go back in half a flash.
Roll for permanence - 7
Andrew Parks, veteran actor of stage and screen but not of any particular celebrity, gets summoned here. Calm your man-boobs, dude, he'll go back in half a flash.
...and just like that, a man of unremarkable looks suddenly appeared. He looked like he was in his sixties, and he was dressed as one would of a man his age looking to spend the night indoors at home - a comfortable robe over a set of pinstriped pajamas and thick slippers on his feet. Looking around him in bewilderment, he exclaimed, "What the Hell-?!?" When he noticed me, he made a beeline for me. "You!" he demanded. "Where am I? What am I doing here?"
I just shook my head. Another dud. My nonexistent experience with Dungeons and Dragons notwithstanding, I was on a fairly poor roll streak. "Relax, dude, you'll be back at... home, I'm guessing, given your outfit. After that, it'll just seem like a really weird dream."
He opened his mouth to say something, but then disappeared. I wish I could go back home the same way. I didn't even know what this cheat power of mine was even doing, because it was so random.
Wait. Maybe that was the point. The sheer randomness of it all. Neither good, nor bad, just chaos.
YOU'VE GAINED WIS!
Congratulations! You've learned something important about your very own isekai cheat!
You've now earned FIVE (5) free rolls! Yaaaa~~y!
Congratulations! You've learned something important about your very own isekai cheat!
You've now earned FIVE (5) free rolls! Yaaaa~~y!
The fact that I was so hard up for a turn in my personal fortunes meant that I actually welcomed the sheer condescension of my illusive patron's generosity.
15 - 20
Roll for permanence - 16
...how the Hell did you manage this particular combination? The Spanish village of Godán is unexpectedly ISOT'd to the Moro Campgrounds and now occupies two square miles of land along its upper trail. But there's no telling what'll happen to them in this grimdark world you've landed yourself in. But there's no fixing that, I'm afraid. Just be comforted that the people are all spontaneously-realized temporal uncertainties, i.e., space-time clones. What happens to them from now on won't have any impact on the people back in your world.
Roll for permanence - 16
...how the Hell did you manage this particular combination? The Spanish village of Godán is unexpectedly ISOT'd to the Moro Campgrounds and now occupies two square miles of land along its upper trail. But there's no telling what'll happen to them in this grimdark world you've landed yourself in. But there's no fixing that, I'm afraid. Just be comforted that the people are all spontaneously-realized temporal uncertainties, i.e., space-time clones. What happens to them from now on won't have any impact on the people back in your world.
True to the blurb delivering my patron's word, a village just appeared out of nowhere. Doing a quiet Curly whoop to myself, I made a break to my left, climbing over the low barrier and scaling the bent and warped chain-link fence with some difficulty (owing to my weight) before jumping down to the other side. Knowing that the inhabitants would probably get killed as a result of what I'd just done was unfair to them, but I just couldn't trust myself to be able to help them. That, and I couldn't speak Spanish, either.
I finally stopped running after making a right behind one of the rundown buildings and let myself breathe for a few minutes.
...I might as well see what I've done to myself this time while I was at it.
So, effectively, a dud. Got it. Ignoring the unnerving sound of the wind that now sounded like bullets just barely keeping from grazing me that now kept whistling in my ears, I rolled again.
5 - 3
Roll for permanence - 18
...okay, you've gotten some seriously bad luck on your part, don't you, boy? Your high roll means that this latest spectacle makes this sentient mutant tapeworm abomination is three feet tall and materializes right in the middle of Godán. Lucky you, though; had you rolled a nat20, that creature would've been invulnerable to shotgun fire.
Roll for permanence - 18
...okay, you've gotten some seriously bad luck on your part, don't you, boy? Your high roll means that this latest spectacle makes this sentient mutant tapeworm abomination is three feet tall and materializes right in the middle of Godán. Lucky you, though; had you rolled a nat20, that creature would've been invulnerable to shotgun fire.
As if to accentuate the infobox's assertion, a loud shotgun blast can be heard. Followed by another, and then a third. The sound of people shouting, "¡Es un demonio!", which was obviously translated as, "It's a demon!" in English, could be heard amidst the additional shotgun blasts.
Needless to say, I left them to their fates, whatever it might be.
True to my patron's word, a pamphlet for something called "capy games" appeared in my hands. I leafed through it, found out that it was some small, independent game development studio in Canada who had made some title that I'd never heard of, and then tossed it.
16 - 2
Roll for permanence - 7
Welp, you now know a little more about deformation stressing on physical objects than you did before all this started. But it won't last. You'll forget all about this in seven (7) hours.
Roll for permanence - 7
Welp, you now know a little more about deformation stressing on physical objects than you did before all this started. But it won't last. You'll forget all about this in seven (7) hours.
Gee. thanks a lot for nothing, my cheat power.
5 - 4
Roll for permanence - 20
Jaqué is only know as a tiny town near the mouth of its namesake river in Panama, on the Pacific coast of the Darién Gap.
Roll for permanence - 20
Jaqué is only know as a tiny town near the mouth of its namesake river in Panama, on the Pacific coast of the Darién Gap.
That unhelpful summary heralded the town's Wikipedia article, sans reference, engraving itself into my memory with a searing-hot stabbing pain in my forehead that drove me to my knees from sheer agony. It took all I had just to keep from screaming at the pain, but by the time that fresh migraine had faded away, I was staring down the barrel of a gun.
***************************************************
TBC...
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