The Konvergence: Last Hellhunt of the Nehellenium
Posted: Sat Dec 14, 2019 6:52 pm
[Author’s Note: I’m aware this is pretty late, and it might technically be a retread of the other two battle reports that have covered the Konvergence event so far, but I had A LOT of photos from the event I did not want to go to waste, so while N_B might have the *fastest* battle report, and Ken’s is by far the most *brootal,* I figured the easiest way to differentiate mine from the others would be to lean into my niche as the forums’ resident lore nerd and deliver the most *narratively comprehensive* report of this huge spectacle. As a result, I’ll mostly forego the usual commentary on game mechanics (except where absolutely necessary) as well as the normal turn-based structure, and just sort of treat the whole thing as a really big magic soap. Hopefully this will allow it to flow a little better, and if you’re interested in the mechanical side of things, feel free to check out the other two excellent reports. That’s all, enjoy the carnage ]
PREVIOUS EPISODE: (~X~)
(Recommended Listening:)
THE STORY SO FAR: The end of Ragnablok is finally here! The Brikverse, previously brought to a tipping point by the khaos of the Brootalz and other agents of Ragnablok, has finally reached the point of no return. A critical failure rolled by the hands of the Brikverse’s Chosen One was the straw that broke the multidimensional universe camel’s back, and as a result, the whole world is breaking and the Four Horsemen of the BrikPocalypse are at its center. Capitalizing upon the weakened Brikverse, the Horsemen intend to swing the pendulum of apokalyptik destruction from the beneficial, renewing cycle of Ragnablok to the other side; ending the universe not with a bang but a whimper, as everything Ossum is stripped of its uniqueness and infected with the elements of Peace, Stability, Authority, and Poop, leaving the new Brikverse in even worse shape than it began. Now, the only hope for the remaining free minifigs of the Nehellenium lies in the hands of General Blueguy, and the four surviving QuantumSurfers left following his misguided rampage.
Just as the prophets of old foretold, the shadowed silhouettes of the four figures materialize fully from out of the Nexus, riding forth onto a battlefield of broken shards to revel in their newfound power. Upon a fiendish horse of sparkling white, Pacifass looks over the battlescape with an air of condescension. This vile bloodsport is beneath him, but sometimes even Peace needs a little violence to back it up. Upon a primary colored Blokbot steed, QuantumStalker Colette coldly surveys their surroundings. All is proceeding according to the plan, and only one obstacle stands between them and universal Stability. Upon his Fun Police stride car, Chief OneEye589 scans the environment for lifeforms. The QuantumSurfers and their creations have flouted the rule of law for too long, and now the time has come to bring them all to the proper Authority. Upon a brown, buzzing Puplo horsefly, Frobo the Swaggins boggles vacantly at these shenanigans. He’s just happy to have a hella fresh new posse to chillax out with. Maybe he’ll dump some Poop ‘n shit into the mix too. If he feels like it or whatever. Who knows.
The four raise their weapons in unison, and four structures emerge from the battlefield. A Sapling of Surrender sprouts at Pacifass’ behest, white flags flapping proudly in the wind. A Blokbot Monolith pierces out of the ground, raised by Colette’s mechanical hands as it assembles itself and spreads onto the ground around it. A whistle from OneEye causes a Phantom Tollbooth to materialize, the arm raising ominously to allow all manner of abominations passage into the world. Frobo lets out a fart he’d been saving just for this occasion, a Nega-Sphinkter ripping open the battlefield as he lets it rip, gross brown tendrils lashing about as the blasphemous hole opens. The ground begins to tremble as the rally structures begin to pulse with BrikPocalyptic energy.
At the center of the forming battlescape, a spire of khaotik energy lances out of the ground, pouring into the inky singularity floating over the ground, and with a noise like the catastrophic annihilation of a glass warehouse by a fourth dimensional earthquake, the corners of four realms of existence collide together into a massive konglomerate mishmash of buildings towering over the landscape. A hastily erected Brootal watchtower suddenly appears spliced into a lovely townhome, instantly obliterating the inhabitants of both structures into spare parts, the only survivors the screaming prisoners chained to the outside of the Konvergence. A Grand Galactic Empire beacon station crashes into the old wizard Phyzwik’s sanctum, further entangling the buildings beneath the baleful eye of the black hole. Atop the swirling nexus of void, the hunched form of Blueguy looks out over the fractured battlescape as he strains against the pull of the vortex. The Hill looms before him, as he turns to see the horsemen approaching from the side. He will need to remain here, at the Konvergence, to keep it from collapsing while the Horsemen still remain here to corrupt the seed of the new Brikverse. He hopes that it will be enough.
All around, more shards begin to collide, chunks of terrain suddenly crashing together into a mosaic, and armies begin to make their way onto the battlescape.
On one end, the combined might of the Grand Galactic Empire and its expansive navy pours forth, responding to the mysterious signal from their beacon, activated by a certain bespectacled QuantumSurfer. They quickly make contact with an already assembled coalition of smaller forces, led by RoC and a detachment of his 45th Union. They have all been drawn here by the appearance of a fortuitous omen; the fabled Laser-Eyed Useless Kat, known as a harbinger of Ossum and good luck. The two groups quickly assess the assembled Horsemen, and tentatively agree to a ceasefire for the moment so they may focus on a shared foe. Before both groups, a fiery portal tears open, offering a window of view to the other side of the battlescape. In the distance, the sounds of alarm and mustering soldiers can be heard coming from a section of a Dew mine that has suddenly appeared into the midst of the khaos. The Almighty Benny Gesserit radios his men to prepare for a fight.
On the other end of the landscape, the signs of Brootal occupation are scattered about. This is the battle they’ve been waiting for, and they are nothing if not prepared. Rectangular missiles bombard the earth, creating makeshift fortifications where they don’t immediately turn the ground into craters. Nearby, a small outpost is constructed by a detachment from the Deadly Space Master Builder Academy as they quickly get to work erecting a drone control tower to survey the landscape and allow their Master Builder Primus to locate them in the midst of all the impending chaos. As the world shatters and the sky falls around them, the inhabitants of several small areas of medieval landscape suddenly find themselves in the midst of the end of the world. The peasants and magical creatures have little comprehension of the forces at work here, but are willing to make do with the circumstances they have found themselves in, and go about their business as usual despite the reality bending singularity located a few shards over. And right in the thick of it all, the black robed form of Zuppon stands atop an altar of kalcium, other patrons of the Hellhunt at his side. This is to be the greatest Hellhunt in the history of the Nehellenium, and if everything is to go according to plan, then he and his minions have a very important job to facilitate.
The air ripples with a whorl of multicolored flame as a huge wooden craft glides through the dimensional membrane, a few Traveling Company troops following close behind.
Loremaster Navigator: Realmshift!
The rest of the Traveler’s Society passes over onto the battlescape, Galeo Cantwell at their head, with the Partisan adventuring group accompanying him along with several squads of Traveling Company pawns and a trained Amphisbaena.
Galeo: *Muttering* What in the Author’s name… Alright men! Things might get weird, but stick to the plan! The sanctum is just up ahead, scope out the area and gather anything that might help us understand what’s going on right now! And if you see anything that stinks of aberration, put it down with extreme prejudice!
Loremaster: Master Cantwell! Possible hostiles to port! They appear to be ogrish or goblinoid in nature!
Galeo: Keep them off our tail, we’ll keep forging ahead!
The two pawns in the star-sailer’s crossbow tower turn their attention to the greenskins, their blank stony expressions placidly locked on the Brootal encampment as more scouts begin to pour onto the battlescape.
Galeo and three adventurers begin sprinting towards the nearest cover. The menacing visage of a Brootal warbanner looms over the adventurers.
Loremaster: Wall of Flame!
A barrier of twisting flame spurts out of the ground between the Traveler’s Society troops and the cracked asphalt of the ruined road near the Brootal encampment.
Another loremaster begins the process of calling up more allies.
Loremaster: Conjuration Warp!
On the deck of the Leviathan, the navigator prepares to drop the mana spire to the ground to make way for heavier firepower.
With nothing more than a muted humming, the alchemy-powered sailer glides towards the Konvergence, the rest of its allies not far behind, including the newly summoned allied Ordo Lux battle monks.
At the other end of the battlescape, the GGE ground forces surge forward towards the Blokbot Monolith, a Chickadee zipping overhead to make contact with the enemy air support.
Opposite them, the Laser-Kat Coalition also make their way to the center of the khaos, as the 45th Union, Assyrians, and Space Navy forge ahead while the USA, Arctic Expedition, and militia troops keep a wary eye on their GGE neighbors.
Meanwhile… A lone cache of Maniak Beer sits near the Konvergence, unaffected by the reality shattering events happening all around, simply biding its time.
Then, with a sudden flash of GT energy, a figure materializes next to the liquor spoils clutching a roast chicken, and looking around in mild confusion. It’s Kastrenzo! Back from the dead!? But how??? Stay tuned to find out!
PREVIOUS EPISODE: (~X~)
(Recommended Listening:)
THE STORY SO FAR: The end of Ragnablok is finally here! The Brikverse, previously brought to a tipping point by the khaos of the Brootalz and other agents of Ragnablok, has finally reached the point of no return. A critical failure rolled by the hands of the Brikverse’s Chosen One was the straw that broke the multidimensional universe camel’s back, and as a result, the whole world is breaking and the Four Horsemen of the BrikPocalypse are at its center. Capitalizing upon the weakened Brikverse, the Horsemen intend to swing the pendulum of apokalyptik destruction from the beneficial, renewing cycle of Ragnablok to the other side; ending the universe not with a bang but a whimper, as everything Ossum is stripped of its uniqueness and infected with the elements of Peace, Stability, Authority, and Poop, leaving the new Brikverse in even worse shape than it began. Now, the only hope for the remaining free minifigs of the Nehellenium lies in the hands of General Blueguy, and the four surviving QuantumSurfers left following his misguided rampage.
Just as the prophets of old foretold, the shadowed silhouettes of the four figures materialize fully from out of the Nexus, riding forth onto a battlefield of broken shards to revel in their newfound power. Upon a fiendish horse of sparkling white, Pacifass looks over the battlescape with an air of condescension. This vile bloodsport is beneath him, but sometimes even Peace needs a little violence to back it up. Upon a primary colored Blokbot steed, QuantumStalker Colette coldly surveys their surroundings. All is proceeding according to the plan, and only one obstacle stands between them and universal Stability. Upon his Fun Police stride car, Chief OneEye589 scans the environment for lifeforms. The QuantumSurfers and their creations have flouted the rule of law for too long, and now the time has come to bring them all to the proper Authority. Upon a brown, buzzing Puplo horsefly, Frobo the Swaggins boggles vacantly at these shenanigans. He’s just happy to have a hella fresh new posse to chillax out with. Maybe he’ll dump some Poop ‘n shit into the mix too. If he feels like it or whatever. Who knows.
The four raise their weapons in unison, and four structures emerge from the battlefield. A Sapling of Surrender sprouts at Pacifass’ behest, white flags flapping proudly in the wind. A Blokbot Monolith pierces out of the ground, raised by Colette’s mechanical hands as it assembles itself and spreads onto the ground around it. A whistle from OneEye causes a Phantom Tollbooth to materialize, the arm raising ominously to allow all manner of abominations passage into the world. Frobo lets out a fart he’d been saving just for this occasion, a Nega-Sphinkter ripping open the battlefield as he lets it rip, gross brown tendrils lashing about as the blasphemous hole opens. The ground begins to tremble as the rally structures begin to pulse with BrikPocalyptic energy.
At the center of the forming battlescape, a spire of khaotik energy lances out of the ground, pouring into the inky singularity floating over the ground, and with a noise like the catastrophic annihilation of a glass warehouse by a fourth dimensional earthquake, the corners of four realms of existence collide together into a massive konglomerate mishmash of buildings towering over the landscape. A hastily erected Brootal watchtower suddenly appears spliced into a lovely townhome, instantly obliterating the inhabitants of both structures into spare parts, the only survivors the screaming prisoners chained to the outside of the Konvergence. A Grand Galactic Empire beacon station crashes into the old wizard Phyzwik’s sanctum, further entangling the buildings beneath the baleful eye of the black hole. Atop the swirling nexus of void, the hunched form of Blueguy looks out over the fractured battlescape as he strains against the pull of the vortex. The Hill looms before him, as he turns to see the horsemen approaching from the side. He will need to remain here, at the Konvergence, to keep it from collapsing while the Horsemen still remain here to corrupt the seed of the new Brikverse. He hopes that it will be enough.
All around, more shards begin to collide, chunks of terrain suddenly crashing together into a mosaic, and armies begin to make their way onto the battlescape.
On one end, the combined might of the Grand Galactic Empire and its expansive navy pours forth, responding to the mysterious signal from their beacon, activated by a certain bespectacled QuantumSurfer. They quickly make contact with an already assembled coalition of smaller forces, led by RoC and a detachment of his 45th Union. They have all been drawn here by the appearance of a fortuitous omen; the fabled Laser-Eyed Useless Kat, known as a harbinger of Ossum and good luck. The two groups quickly assess the assembled Horsemen, and tentatively agree to a ceasefire for the moment so they may focus on a shared foe. Before both groups, a fiery portal tears open, offering a window of view to the other side of the battlescape. In the distance, the sounds of alarm and mustering soldiers can be heard coming from a section of a Dew mine that has suddenly appeared into the midst of the khaos. The Almighty Benny Gesserit radios his men to prepare for a fight.
On the other end of the landscape, the signs of Brootal occupation are scattered about. This is the battle they’ve been waiting for, and they are nothing if not prepared. Rectangular missiles bombard the earth, creating makeshift fortifications where they don’t immediately turn the ground into craters. Nearby, a small outpost is constructed by a detachment from the Deadly Space Master Builder Academy as they quickly get to work erecting a drone control tower to survey the landscape and allow their Master Builder Primus to locate them in the midst of all the impending chaos. As the world shatters and the sky falls around them, the inhabitants of several small areas of medieval landscape suddenly find themselves in the midst of the end of the world. The peasants and magical creatures have little comprehension of the forces at work here, but are willing to make do with the circumstances they have found themselves in, and go about their business as usual despite the reality bending singularity located a few shards over. And right in the thick of it all, the black robed form of Zuppon stands atop an altar of kalcium, other patrons of the Hellhunt at his side. This is to be the greatest Hellhunt in the history of the Nehellenium, and if everything is to go according to plan, then he and his minions have a very important job to facilitate.
The air ripples with a whorl of multicolored flame as a huge wooden craft glides through the dimensional membrane, a few Traveling Company troops following close behind.
Loremaster Navigator: Realmshift!
The rest of the Traveler’s Society passes over onto the battlescape, Galeo Cantwell at their head, with the Partisan adventuring group accompanying him along with several squads of Traveling Company pawns and a trained Amphisbaena.
Galeo: *Muttering* What in the Author’s name… Alright men! Things might get weird, but stick to the plan! The sanctum is just up ahead, scope out the area and gather anything that might help us understand what’s going on right now! And if you see anything that stinks of aberration, put it down with extreme prejudice!
Loremaster: Master Cantwell! Possible hostiles to port! They appear to be ogrish or goblinoid in nature!
Galeo: Keep them off our tail, we’ll keep forging ahead!
The two pawns in the star-sailer’s crossbow tower turn their attention to the greenskins, their blank stony expressions placidly locked on the Brootal encampment as more scouts begin to pour onto the battlescape.
Galeo and three adventurers begin sprinting towards the nearest cover. The menacing visage of a Brootal warbanner looms over the adventurers.
Loremaster: Wall of Flame!
A barrier of twisting flame spurts out of the ground between the Traveler’s Society troops and the cracked asphalt of the ruined road near the Brootal encampment.
Another loremaster begins the process of calling up more allies.
Loremaster: Conjuration Warp!
On the deck of the Leviathan, the navigator prepares to drop the mana spire to the ground to make way for heavier firepower.
With nothing more than a muted humming, the alchemy-powered sailer glides towards the Konvergence, the rest of its allies not far behind, including the newly summoned allied Ordo Lux battle monks.
At the other end of the battlescape, the GGE ground forces surge forward towards the Blokbot Monolith, a Chickadee zipping overhead to make contact with the enemy air support.
Opposite them, the Laser-Kat Coalition also make their way to the center of the khaos, as the 45th Union, Assyrians, and Space Navy forge ahead while the USA, Arctic Expedition, and militia troops keep a wary eye on their GGE neighbors.
Meanwhile… A lone cache of Maniak Beer sits near the Konvergence, unaffected by the reality shattering events happening all around, simply biding its time.
Then, with a sudden flash of GT energy, a figure materializes next to the liquor spoils clutching a roast chicken, and looking around in mild confusion. It’s Kastrenzo! Back from the dead!? But how??? Stay tuned to find out!