Caber Moves:
Caber Toss: Hamish McHaggis throws his caber forwards, crashing any enemies foolish enough to get in its way
Plant a Tree: Hamish does a pole vault style manoevre with his caber, enabling him to jump over large gaps - also very effective against single enemies.
Clothes line: Hamish charges forward holding the caber in the middle, knocking over anyone it hits.
Other moves:
Sporran Spin: Hamish turns on the spot very quickly, knocking over nearby enemies with his spiked sporran.
Haggis Hurl: Hamish pulls out a haggis and throws it hard at an enemy, immediatly knocking him senseless and showering neaps and sheeps guts all over anyone nearby (splash damage)
Glasgow Kiss: Hamish headbutts his opponent
Glaswegian Rant: Hamish hurls a string of abuse at his target in incomprehensible Rab C. Nesbit speak, completely confusing his opponents who stand confused trying to figure out what he just said for several seconds
Bagpipe Ballad: Hamish cranks out a tune on his trusty bagpipes, causing anyone nearby to flee in abject terror.
Scottish Salute: Hamish turns his back on his opponent, bends over and pulls his kilt up, presenting his arse in all its bearded glory. His opponents either pass out with shock, or are so enraged that they immediately charge and attack in melee.
Next: The story
Game design game thread
...falls out of his chair pealing with laughter...
Who needs a story when you have a guy that can heave ballistic haggis and moon people before headbutting them?!?!
-----------------
-WarMage
...I''d venture to say that I would walk five-hun-dred-miles then-ah I would walk five-hun-dred-more just to play this game.
Who needs a story when you have a guy that can heave ballistic haggis and moon people before headbutting them?!?!
-----------------
-WarMage
...I''d venture to say that I would walk five-hun-dred-miles then-ah I would walk five-hun-dred-more just to play this game.
im sorry, i mis understood what you meant! please forgive my stupidity at times. :\
im sorry, i mis understood what you meant! please forgive my stupidity at times. :\
Author
No problem. Anyone with a story idea? (this is getting too damn weird for me, I can''t come up with anything to rival the weirdness.)
Ohhh yeahhhh...
Hamish McHaggis, First Order Son of Scot, has been called upon by his clan to watch over the flocks and fields as young, strong (smelling) Scots have done since centuries before the Treaty of Union. All is not well in the quiet misty moors as Hamish and his trusty (but noseblind) sheepdog, Hoond, stand over the craggy clifftops and watch their four-legged money-makers wander about to graze on the wet, emerald grass.
Hamish is overcome by the beauty of a particular ewe in season, and tromps down the hillside for some good lovin''. Done it dozens of times, right? Whereupon he returns from the wooly bleats of passion to find no trace of Hoond. And so! Calling out over the shadowy depths, our hero begins a quest to find his poor mutt, "An'' ther bah-stid whot ran off wi'' me fam''ly''s heirloom pinannula'' round Hoond''s neck!"
Hamish picks up his caber, his clean kilt, his Haggis (pipes), and his cleadh moir (claymore), and makes his way out of the mountains, engendering trust (tee!) and good nature (hee!) wherever he beats the tar outta some smartass tourist on his arduous journey to find Hoond and the Mystical Pinannular.
Except he never had a clean kilt.
Next: Commerce system!!
---------------
-WarMage
...a little dab''ll do ya...
Hamish McHaggis, First Order Son of Scot, has been called upon by his clan to watch over the flocks and fields as young, strong (smelling) Scots have done since centuries before the Treaty of Union. All is not well in the quiet misty moors as Hamish and his trusty (but noseblind) sheepdog, Hoond, stand over the craggy clifftops and watch their four-legged money-makers wander about to graze on the wet, emerald grass.
Hamish is overcome by the beauty of a particular ewe in season, and tromps down the hillside for some good lovin''. Done it dozens of times, right? Whereupon he returns from the wooly bleats of passion to find no trace of Hoond. And so! Calling out over the shadowy depths, our hero begins a quest to find his poor mutt, "An'' ther bah-stid whot ran off wi'' me fam''ly''s heirloom pinannula'' round Hoond''s neck!"
Hamish picks up his caber, his clean kilt, his Haggis (pipes), and his cleadh moir (claymore), and makes his way out of the mountains, engendering trust (tee!) and good nature (hee!) wherever he beats the tar outta some smartass tourist on his arduous journey to find Hoond and the Mystical Pinannular.
Except he never had a clean kilt.
Next: Commerce system!!
---------------
-WarMage
...a little dab''ll do ya...
The commerce system should quite obviously be based around fist size and muscle mass. Law of commerce = If you''re big enough, take it.
To further your wealth you would undergo severe training sessions to expand your muscle status. This obviously also improves with the more people you thump the shit out of.
Next: Enemies you can encounter
To further your wealth you would undergo severe training sessions to expand your muscle status. This obviously also improves with the more people you thump the shit out of.
Next: Enemies you can encounter
This topic is closed to new replies.
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