Mid-Range Game 5: Competing Realities

[Gamma Fiend he/him]

Huh. Looking back through mine, It looks like i had about 32, including game PM with Alv. O.o And only a few of those were the Troll PMs, it seems.

[Gamma Fiend he/him]

Sorry for the double-post, but finally finished the Interview RP! This one got a little bit away from me, as sometimes happens.
 

"GRAK! GRAK! GRAK! GRAK!"

 

The chanting of the crowd continued, a thrumming beat, punctuated by the thunderous applause and cheers for their champion. A monster who had survived against all odds, defeated death itself, and delivered the final bloody spectacle that had been promised for the fans. Figgldygrak. The creature that haunted the dreams of nightmares and feasted on the terror.

 

It's name was chanted, and it was beckoned and summoned, but still, the monster did not show itself. The curiosity of the mindless fans eventually took over all sense of precaution, and the watcher's flooded the field of the arena in a frenzied rush, searching for their Champion. To congratulate. To adore. To idolize.

 

They finally found him.

 

Figgldygrak was sitting atop a mound of mutilated corpses, with limbs and body parts strewn about, covered in the gore and innards of the fallen contestants. The aura of death hung around It like a shroud, the fetid stench of rot and decay heavy in the air, the gargantuan beast looming over all, it's giant shadow encompassing all and blocking out the sun. Grak was mindlessly humming a tune to itself as it feasted, occasionally rooting around at it's feet with the one arm it had left, and bringing up an indistinguishable chunk of human remains and chomping down on it with either a sickening slurp, or a bone-chilling crunch. It finally noticed the crowd as they circled around him in awe and wonder, keeping a small distance. Figgldygrak began to lick the juices off of it's fingers, savoring the flavor, and then giggled. A depraved, abhorrent laugh, void of mind and sanity.

 

The Crowd clapped and cheered, whooping and hollering, reveling in their Champion's glorious presence. And they rushed in on him.

 

One person made it to Figgldygrak first, getting a headstart advantage and beating out the rest. An upstanding gentleman, wearing the finest tailor-crafted suit, carrying himself with an air of professionalism and respect, who happened to have one suit pocket bulging in a suspiciously coinpurse-shaped obtrusion and jangled with the clinking of coins with each step.

"This is Al Vron here, reporting live from THE Arena floor. That's right fans, I am standing right next to the monster known as Figgldygrak. The fans demanded his attention, they couldn't wait to show their adoration. We're right here, Sennti fans, in the Lair of the Beast." The Announcer wasted no time in smoothly taking control of the situation with grace and finesse. "Now I'm sure our fans at home want to know a few things. Like, where did you even come from? How in all the worlds did you even come to be?" Even the tactful GameMaster was finding it hard to keep his revulsion well hidden.

Figgldygrak sat there for a few moments, staring dumbly past the Announcer into nothing. Slowly it's eyes came into focus, growing from two dim, crimson pinpricks, flaring up into acknowledgement and recognition. The monster slowly lumbered to it's feet, displacing the pile of corpses, unleashing a new wave of putrid, putrescent odor that smote the senses, driving even the restless crowd back a few paces. Al Vron held his ground, his eyes only slightly watering, his arm upraised as high as he could hold it, uselessly offering the microphone. He plugged one of his ears with the other.

"I. AM. FIGGLDYGRAK!" The monster roared it's predictable, singular motto. "GRAK! GRAK!" It yelled once again, looking around wildly with a primal and savage gaze.

"Can you at least try to tell us what's next?" Al Vron tried to shout over the clamor to be heard, getting in the last of his essential questions.

"Perhaps I can tell you what's next," A sly voice said from behind Al Vron. The Announcer turned to see Gambles standing there, dressed in a sharp, immaculate white suit and pants, with a black dragonskin belt and matching shoes, polished to a shine. His beard was shaved close to his angular face, his hair starting to pepper gray, wearing a fancy hat, almost like a tophat, but shorter, and more narrow, with a dipped, grooved center and a long, fiery red feather tucked in around the cap. In one hand he held a slick, polished wooden cane, ornamented with a smooth, faded stone head.

 

"What happens next is easy," Gambles said, waving his hand in an easy shrug. "Figgldygrak feeds."

Figgldygrak seemed to roar it's approval in response. "BRAINS!!!" It's babaric yawp was then cut off by choking, gurgling sounds, as masses of slimy and bloody chalkings poured forth from it's gullet once more. The Crowd screamed in disgust and mild panic, slowly beginning to back up a few more steps as the horrible flat creatures made their way over the pile of corpses and slowly skittered towards them. The wild chalklings reached the front lines of The Crowd as they started to scream and shout, trying to scramble over each other to get out of the way, trampling and tripping over each other in their trepidation. That was when the explosions started, sundering and rending the masses violently apart. Figgldygrak roared once again, and leapt down from it's perch and down into The Crowd in a single bound, landing among the panicked spectators, and instantly the monster began to reach in and grab victims, tearing them apart or taking a couple bites from them before discarding them and moving onto the next. Grak was in a full bloodlust frenzy, and unstoppable, relishing in it's triumph.

This was how a monster celebrated.

"Don't worry, we're safe," Gambles said, talking to Al Vron. "Even Grak knows not to bite the hand that feeds, or even the feeder," he added with a grin. Perhaps I can explain some things while It tires itself out." He took a deep breath and coughed once to clear his throat, also a well-known, cheap trick used to build suspense and annoy your audience simultaneously.

 

"What you see is what you get. Where did Figgldygrak come from? Don't mind if I paraphrase, but what happens if somebody -- or something -- starts off as a concept? What if you can give them that concept, that purpose? Take a man apart, piece by piece, bloody chunk by bloody chunk, and put him back together. What do you get? Figgldygrak. Gibletish. Nonsense. But what happens if you want to create a Monster?" Gambles paused and waved towards Figgldygrak as the monster grabbed up two faceless fans and whirled them about it's head like streamers until their arms were torn off from the force, sending their bodies flying through the air.

"What happens if you succeed even moreso than you intended? Figgldygrak started off as a concept for these games. A Monster. A beast to be reckoned with and feared. But something happened that wasn't anticipated. Grak stole his identity for himself! When the monster died, it actually gained it's spark of consciousness. Of sentience. It recognized Itself for what it was supposed to be, and what it is. Consumed with it's Identity, and embracing it's egregious nature, it only compounded from there. Fueled by it's Identity as a horrible monster, a nightmare returned from the grave, Figgldygrak's consciousness was once again swallowed up by it's Monstrous Intent. I'm afraid there's no stopping it."

And indeed, as Gambles trailed off, some of the corpses that had been bitten or partially eaten by the monster Figgldygrak began to reanimate and rise back up from the dead to pursue the living and eat their flesh. The poor, senseless crowd were trapped within the arena they had clamored and rushed to storm earlier, in their foolish adoration and fandom, as they were hunted down by the legions of the undead, led by their insatiable, abominable leader, The First Zombie. 

 

The cries of terror, pain, and horror rang throughout the arena, slowly fading over time, replaced with the groans of the undead, while the mad laughter of a creature beyond all imagining rang out in the graveyard that was once The Arena. And faintly, barely whispering on the winds, a raw, primordial warcry could still be heard echoing in the night.

_{"I AM FIGGLDYGRAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKKkkkkk!!!}

[phattemer]

Yay! Rithmatists win! Even though I didn't... oh well!

[Gamma Fiend he/him]

Alright, it's getting about that time! LG:11 is up and running and well underway, and things seem to have settled down quite a bit for the aftermath of this game, so this is the Official Heads-up that this game will be being wrapped up and locked shortly, so get any last minute comments or thoughts down now! Once again a big round of applause for Alvron, our fearless GM, for creating and running such a wonderful game, and all the players for signing up and making it so fun!

 

Oh, and long live the Zombie Apocalypse!

[phattemer]

Long live(die?) the Undead Rithmatist.

[Alvron]

Thanks to everyone for playing.  I hope you enjoyed all the PM madness as much as I did.  I WILL KILL YOU ALL!!!!!

[Surgebound Rainspren he/him]

Thanks to everyone for playing.  I hope you enjoyed all the PM madness as much as I did.  I WILL KILL YOU ALL!!!!!

now that the games over my inbox feels so much empty. And bigger, I think it stretched. 

[Metacognition he/him]

Well, it looks like since this game hasn't been closed before I finally got everything back up and running, it falls to me to close it out! Considering I didn't get a chance to play in this one, I can't really comment too much, but everything I did see was phenomenal! If this game ever runs again (or if something similar gets made), I'm going to have to make sure that I get a chance to join!

 

A very special thanks to Alv for GMing this game. As he said in the Dead Doc, over 200 separate PM messages! You guys were brutal to him!

 

And also congrats to Gamma for pulling of the win for both the Undead and the Rithmatists! Well played! 

 

As always, if anyone would like to try your hand at running a game, please get a hold of Gamma, Wilson or myself. Not only will we get you added to the list, but I'm sure we'd be more than willing to help out in any way we can as well!

 

You can also ask questions and get some hints and feedback from everyone over here in our Art of Game Creation thread as well. With all the games that we've run so far, we have plenty of experienced GMs that can help you refine any game you're thinking about!

 

Thanks to everyone that played! If you haven't had enough and you missed sign ups for the current LG, you've still got a little bit to be able to sign up for the next QF! We hope to see you all there!