#RPG – Youtube CYOA – StarLost


I’m doing a poll-based ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’, weekly on Youtube, based on my Machinations of the Space Princess game world.

Some other things from the ‘show’ so far…

Boxleitner AP7 Starhopper – 8900gp 3.95

A favourite of mercenaries and bounty hunters as the cargo bay allows it to carry loot or can be repurposed as a (barebones) prison cell. A one man vessel, it’s a tough little ship but can’t really stand against dedicated fighters.

Scale: 2
HD: 4 (18)
Crew: 1
Attack: +1 (3)
Armour: 1d6
Defence: 10
Speed: Fast
Toughness: 5
Reflexes: 8
Power: 5

Armour Plating, Cargo Storage, Escape Pod, Basic quarters, Solid, Warp Drive.

Skalton Medium Blaster Cannon: Scale 2, d8 damage, Medium Range, Ammo Save 14, Autofire 2, Energy Damage

Sheldonic Spheric 9487.5gp

A fragile, but stealthy, vessel, the Spheric is an ambush fighter, using its stealth and rapid-fire to close in tight and hose down enemy vessels. A favourite of unfair fighters with a rapid space drive, allowing it to make effective hit and run attacks.

Scale: 2
HD: 3 (13)
Crew: 1
Attack: +1 (3)
Armour: 1d4
Defence: 11
Speed: Racing
Toughness: 5
Reflexes: 10
Power: 5

Faster, Quarters, Improved Reflexes,  Light Shields, Stealth 1.

Gonzalarms Rapidoblaster: Scale 2, d4 damage, Close Range, Ammo Save 18, Autofire 4, Energy Damage, warp drive.


New Poll Game?

Would you like another poll game? Provided I can keep it going this time?
Yes please – ’45 Psychobilly Retropocalypse.
Yes please – Agents of SWING
Yes please – Setting Sun
Yes please – @ctiv8
Yes please – Invaderz
Yes please – Urban Faerie
Yes please – Bloodsucker: The Angst
No thankyou.
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Poll Game: Zombie – Overdue conclusion

At the tunnel mouth the soldier sits behind the barricade. It’s been a while since they’ve had any orders but they’re supposed to stop any of the dead coming out, even though they’ve already escaped the city. Out of the dark comes a stumbling shape… a young man, a boy really, dragging his foot, pale as death, with more of the dead following in his wake.

The soldier, little more than a cadet, lines up his shot carefully and squeezes the trigger, just as he sees a flash of sanity, of humanity in the lead dead’s eyes. The corpse falls and the rest of the dead fall upon it, tearing it to pieces… it wasn’t one of them… they were alive. A single tear tracks down the soldier’s cheek as he lines up the rest of his shots, picking off the feeding dead one after another – if only to make him feel better…

The End

Poll Game: Zombie -At the banks of the river

You emerge from the bowels of the snake, fingers clutching at you, hands pulling at you, out onto a road of skulls that stretches ahead of you, crunching underfoot as you drag your swollen, broken foot behind you, stumbling and hobbling forward, bit by bit. Looking back behind you, you see an endless tide of the grey and shuffling dead all following your lead onto the road of skulls, like lambs to the slaughter and you their Judas goat.

The road lights up, bright and stark, the light of heaven itself flaring up in front of you, throwing stark shadows and making you turn your head away as you shuffle on towards it…

What do you do?
Scream to the lights for help.
Drop to your knees and pray.
Give up and turn into the seething mass of the dead.
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Poll Game: Zombie – Feet of Clay

There’s no way you can get anywhere with your foot still in this mangled condition, in desperation you gulp down as many painkillers as you think your body can handle, upending an entire bottle of antiseptic onto your foot even as your fingertips start to numb and your vision swims. Antibiotics will have to wait, and you’re no doctor, just a maimed schoolkid separated from anything, everything you used to know. You shake your head and try to chase away the demons, the fear, the sadness.

You scramble to your feat as the baying, moaning dead draw closer, too close for comfort, speeding up and chewing the air as they move in on you. Even hobbling, you’re just a little faster, stumbling, dragging your wounded foot, leaving damp and sticky patches of fluid, antiseptic and blood as you drag yourself along, more and more of the dead seeming to appear out of the broken shop windows and side streets all the time. The painkillers take the edge off, make you issue a strangled giggle, fleeing in a haze as subdued pain, drugs and infection turn the horrifying world into a nightmarish hallucination.

What now?
Run into the mouth of the snake?
Pull the duvet over your head until the monsters go away.
Get your mother and father to help carry you away.
Turn into a cloud of butterflies and escape into the wind.
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Poll Game: Zombie – Double or Nothing

In desperation you scramble back down, landing painfully on your feet, trying to take most of the hit on your healthy one. It takes two… three tries to toss your bag through the window and then you have to try and climb up again, still injured and with the dead drawing in on all sides, outside and inside, scrambling and clawing at the door, dislodging the shelves, boxes and seats bit by bit.

You manage to haul yourself up, just as one squirming undead, once a child though you don’t let yourself think about that, writhes through the mess and throws itself at you.

You black out for a moment and come to out on the street, vaguely scrabbling for your bag as your gorge rises in your throat from the pain. Your injured foot is hot… wet… when you look down the back of your shoe – and your ankle – has been torn away in a bite… there isn’t time to worry about that right now, the dead from the street are almost on you.

What now?
Crash into the nearest building you can get into and deal with your foot, drastically.
Pause long enough to fill your foot with painkillers, antibiotics etc again and then hobble for it.
Stand and fight.
Take cover in an abandoned car and use the lighter to cauterise the wound.
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Poll Game: Zombie – Crawl for it

You pull and drag the shelves, hopping on one foot, dragging some down to crash against the doors and keep them out, dragging others to pile up against the wall. You grit your teeth and sling your backpack on again, smashing the security window and then try to scramble up… it’s hard going, you fall more than once, jarring your foot and making yourself scream in pain, a scream that is answered by the things tearing at the door with patient tenacity.

On the third attempt you manage to scramble up through the window and then get stuck… it’s narrow, as much weight as you’ve lost through stress and not eating properly you still can’t fit through easily with your backpack. Twisting your head you see shambling figures, noticing half of you sticking out into the street. You need to think fast and make a snap decision…

What do you do?
Tear off the backpack and squirm through.
Climb back down inside, throw the backpack through and climb back up.
Force through and hope for the best.
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Poll Game: Zombie – Hot Foot

You wedge the door and window shut as much as you can, wedging chairs and racks against it and curling up in a daze as the pills take effect, numbing the shrieking pain in your foot down to a dull mumble as you curl up on your coat and some plastic sheeting and bags as a bed.

Your sleep is weird and disturbed, images from school and your family swimming together with everything you’ve seen since. It all comes together into a nightmare about your mother chewing off your foot and stripping away the flesh while you watch. When it comes down to the crunching of bones you wake up with a girlish shriek, jumping out of your skin as you realise the only light that’s coming is coming through the security window, high in the wall, the power’s given out overnight. You also realise that the crunching you heard is them… the dead, scuffing and shoving at your propped together barricade – and it’s already starting to fall down.

Your foot is still ballooned, though not as bad as before, that’s going to severely limit your options…

You’re trapped… what now?
Pile things up and try and drag your crippled leg up, out of the security window.
Get your clubbing stick and try and brain the dead as they writhe in through the door.
Pile up the barricade and try and reinforce it so you have more time to think.
Scream for help through the security window.
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Poll Game: Zombie – Kiss my boo-boo?

It’s not easy manoeuvring yourself down from the tracks with your mangled foot, it takes you a very long time and every movement is fraught with pain. You’re shuffling like one of the dead yourself and jealous of their ability to not feel pain. The afternoon is wearing on now, getting into the evening and the dead seem to be ‘waking up’ as it gets darker and the sky begins to take on the red and gold hues of the setting sun.

You find a pharmacy, tracking in on its green cross but find it broken open and mostly looted. There’s a storeroom and motivated by desperation you smash the lock off the door with a fire extinguisher and batter it down, in so much pain you don’t care too much how much noise you make.

Inside the store room you wedge the broken door shut and overturn trays until you find some high powered, prescription painkillers, gulping a handful down like candy and laying flat on your back until the pain in your foot begins to fade and you can start trying to tend to your foot… though you have no real idea what you’re doing.

What’s best?
Lay up here overnight, trying to fix your foot on instinct.
Limp out to try and find a bookshop or something with first aid information.
Grab armfuls of drugs and look for somewhere else to hole up and – hopefully – heal a little.
You THINK you saw an abandoned ambulance at the end of the road… maybe you can hole up there.
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