Dr Archeville

Okay, Fulcrum's putting her Terminus Array into her Quickness/Speed, race to and around the castle (and take 20 on Notice checks as free actions [28 total]), and still has enough movement to zip back to Cyclone (if she decides to come back to Cyclone). She sees... well, pretty much everything you described. She sees Slick running about, and can tell she's a lot faster than him. She sees the hole in the courtyard, and can just peer inside enough to see Blackstar and Radium running around (Radium's blasts are very bright!). She sees Dok on the 3rd floor, and Binder on the 4th floor. She does not see Thunderbolt; she doesn't know how to get to where he is. Will she stop back at Cyclone, or somewhere else?

Ah, forgot to check if Colt's paralysis wore of the Mysterious Apartment-Bombing NPC Fort save to shake Paralysis off (DC 19) (1d20+6=11) :argh:

The passage continues, still just wide enough that walking side-by-side would be possible but tight, so they continued single-file. After about fifteen feet, the tunnel turned sharply to the left; after another fifteen feet or so there was a fork. From the right, darkness and silence. From the left, more flickering lights, and louder chanting, and the sounds of people moving about. Something else, too, something large and angry, pacing in a cage and straining against chains.

"All vegetarian dishes!," he replied with much enthusiasm as he stirred two different pots. "I just got back from Oktoberfest last night -- the 200th one! -- and I had sooo many meat dishes! I need some veggies to balance me out... and, I have been wanting to try my hand at Indian cuisine for a while... so I thought, why not now?" "You were going to ask me to run some tests? Ha!" His laugh was one of true amusement, no hint or snideness or anything else. "That is funny, as that is part of the reason I had asked you here!" He turned to one of the ovens and pulled out a few covered dishes, using his force field in place of pot holders. He seemed to pull out more dishes from the oven than should fit -- like his home, it was also bigger on the inside! Once all were out, he did a quick scan of everything, then began carrying things into the dining room. "Would you mind helping me carry some of these out?" When Lynn looked again into the dining room, it had undergone a remarkable change. The table was made, pristine white china atop a red and gold tablecloth; the chairs had lower backs and were of a darker, lacquered wood. Red and blue silk sheets decorated the walls, and the chandelier shone with a golden light.

Archeville looked about the room and smiled. "I vish to dank you all for coming," he began, raising a mimosa in toast, "to vhat I hope can be a semi-regular meeting of some of Freedom's best und brightest minds. Minds vhich I feel are up to de task at hand, vhich is, to put it simply und broadly, to identify und begin to vork on solutions to de many problems vhich afflict society, both from mitout und mitin." "Before ve can begin dat, dough, ve need to know mit whom ve are vorking. Many of you had de chance to talk mit each ozher before I invited you to sit, but I vould like some formal introductions to be made. Name, specialties, und so on. Dose of you here in a heroic persona," he nodded towards Dragonfly, Miss Americana, and Rift, "are of course free to keep your identity secret."

added Gabriel's vignette.

Freedom City, South Freedom, Southside, Corner of Shelley and Colorado October 28th, 2010, 6:45pm It was looking to be a good night in Southside. Gabriel had already completed one patrol in the deepening gloom, and was currently situated on the roof of an apartment building at the corner of Shelley St. and Colorado Blvd. He had picked this location due to the rally going on down at street level. Already it looked like a couple thousand people had showed up, with scattered police presence to help direct foot traffic and such. 'This is the sort of thing that makes me feel like my fight is worth it. If these people can keep this kind of thing going, I'm going to feel better about having to spend more time fighting the more powerful foes in the world.' In this instance, the rally was one for concerned parents of Southside. The focus was on the risks of drug use and gang membership, both areas that had notable impact on children. Parents from all over were attending. Couples and single parents, mothers and fathers, all races and creeds; all of them united in their desire to find ways to improve their children's lives. The current speaker was emphasizing the need to engage in discussion with teenagers, to better understand what was going on in their lives. “They turn to these things because it makes them feel like they belong. Because they don't think they have any other choices. Parents, we need to give them another choice. We need to show them that they belong at home. We need to find ways to encourage our kids to spend time with each other in constructive ways. What does it say when superheros are doing a better job of giving ordinary advice for our kids, day in and day out, than we are? When their teachers are doing a better job of raising them than we are?” Murmurs of agreement went around the crowd as Gabriel smirked. The speaker wasn't angry at him, and she had something of a point. He just hoped the message sank in. It was one thing to get fired up at a rally, and another entirely to live it day to day. But he held onto the hope that for many of them, the ideas presented here would stick. The organizers were mainly some of the more proactive parents, with a small number being members of non-profit organizations that worked on issues like teen drug use and such. The fact that Freedom City had comparatively lower usage rates, and that gangs weren't quite as prevalent, didn't make their impact any smaller to the affected families. 'Hm. The police look to have thins under control. I suppose I should get back to--Wait a tick. What's that little crowd back there?' Gabriel leaned forward a bit and squinted his eyes slightly. Indeed, there was a group of about 20 or so people in dark hooded coats. Their gait seemed...off...somehow. And they were moving in what almost seemed to be a military formation. Only the one at the front seemed to have a more natural gait, and even then it didn't seem quite right. The hero in white frowned, and started to lift himself into the air, the nigh-undetectable hum of his power surrounding him. “Hey! What do you think you're-” cried out the current speaker, before her voice turned into a panicked scream. Gabriel whirled his attention to the stage. Five people stood there; four of them wore heavy coats and large hats, disguising any details beyond “very large people”. The fifth was...odd. He had on tattered pants, a button-up shirt that he hadn't bothered to button, and his face had white and red paint smeared on it in odd tribal patterns. He himself was dark-skinned, and seemed to be leering at the people on stage with ill intent. The 2-foot-long wooden rod in his right hand, crackling with sick green energy, didn't help matters any. “Listen up! Da Red Devils don' appreciate ya message! Ya see, we need ta make money and get more membas, and ya kids are better for dat than ya old folks! So we gonna give ya one chance ta give up dis rally, or else!” The speaker regained some of her courage as two police officers stepped onto the stage, hands resting on their pistols. “And what if we don't comply?” The man in face paint gave a grin fit for a demon. “Then we're gonna hurt you. Real bad, real slow. I think we'll start with you. My friends here will show these cops what for, while we have a chat.” The green light jumped like lightning from the rod to the four hulking figures. As one, they threw off their coats and hats with a roar, revealing huge undead creatures. They seemed more intact than one might expect of a zombie, and their mouths were filled with overly long fangs. Claws over 8 inches long sprouted out of their hands as they hunched down and stalked forward, predators through and through. They seemed to be preparing to leap at the police, as the tattered man slowly walked forward... “STOP!” Everyone, including Gabriel, turned to face the source of the shout. It turned out to be the man leading what looked to be some sort of gang. His appearance was more shocking than the Tattered Man. He looked like someone barely living; his flesh stretched tight over his skeletal structure, his hair entirely gone, his eyes sunken into his skull. He was clad in a medieval-style robe and held, of all things, a short sword in one hand. His other glowed with crackling black energy. “The Red Devils hath no claim upon this ground, for it belongs to the Black Devils! Forward, my soldiers!” With that, the 20 men shook off their outerwear to reveal 20 animated skeletons clad in the armor styled after ancient Roman soldiers, their armor and weapons (mostly swords, with a couple wielding spears) in pristine condition. The necromancer took to the air as the people screamed, trapped between two groups of deadly gang members. When the “super-ghouls” turned to start charging the skeletons, and the Tattered Man ran after them, raising his crackling rod towards the Necromancer, the people panicked even more, pressing to each side as the undead forces clashed. By some miracle, no one was caught between the two groups, but people were starting to get hurt in the mad press. Suddenly, the crowd and attendant police officers heard a voice whispering in their ear. “Officers, please get between the civilians and the monsters. Everyone, please remain calm. I know this is a scary situation, but if you follow my instructions, we should get you out of here safely. Now please everyone head for Colorado Blvd as quickly as you can. If anyone stumbles, please help them back up. Don't let anyone get left behind. That goes double for you officers. I'll hold off the monsters and their masters.” As those last words were spoken, a single loud note sounded right in the midst of the melee now occurring o n the street. All but one of the ghouls clutched their heads, shaking them as if to get rid of the sound. The Necromancer gritted his teeth in pain, falling back from his current position to land on the ground behind the skeletons. The source of the note was quickly spotted as Gabriel, white coat flapping in the air as he descended, hovered over the street. The people, already somewhat calmed by his earlier words, gave off a ragged cheer as they worked to run away from the monsters. In moments, the man in white was calmly floating 10 feet above street level. “Normally, I give people a chance to surrender. Not today.” He raised his left hand and snapped his fingers. One of the ghouls froze for a moment, before attacking its fellows. Gabriel raised his right hand, the air shimmering with compressed sound waves, and suddenly one of the skeletons was blown backwards, falling to pieces. The hero opened his mouth, and began to sing. “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: His truth is marching on.” As he sang, Gabriel blurred forward in flight, giving a passing slap to first one ghoul, and then another. Each of them froze in place. The one that seemed crazed quickly took them out of the fight, having already dispatched another 4 skeletons, leaving 15 skeletons, 2 ghouls, and the controllers. Both of the men wielding the power of death were busy trading arcane blows that did little; whenever one or the other turned to try to stop Gabriel, his rival attempted to press the advantage. “I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps, They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps; I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps: His day is marching on.” Several skeletons in the rear of the formation ended up paralyzed, while more of them manage to take down the out-of-control ghoul. Gabriel flew in and shoved against it, not really moving it, but it also fell prey to his powers as it freezes in place, its decaying muscles clenching tight, rooting it in place. His voice increased notably in volume as he rose higher into the air, before suddenly it crashed upon the whole group with a mighty sound. This time, both necromancers recoiled, and all of the undead were momentarily baffled. “He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat: Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on!” His voice still ringing up and down the street, the angelic-themed hero stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, and gave a mighty cry. “BEGONE!” He shoved both of his hands forward at the same time, and a veritable wall of compressed sound waves raced through the air. In moments, they struck the remaining skeletons and ghoul, crushing them to the ground, leaving a messy ruin. Gabriel took several calming breaths, before turning to the two men who had started this whole encounter. They were both looking at him with deep hatred in their eyes. The old Necromancer spoke. “For one as thou art, we shall set aside our quarrel and strike thee down with all our power and malice.” The other man simply nodded. As one, they lifted their implements to fire bolts of horrific energy at Gabriel. Through a combination of wits, reflexes, and a bit of luck (or was it divine favor?), he managed to avoid being struck by either man. In return, two blasts of sound were sent in quick succession. Both necromancers were hit, but neither was knocked out. They shook off the pain and pressed the attack. Desperate, Gabriel took to the sky, flying high at nearly his max speed, until the street was only a faint line beneath his feet. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he concocted a rather daring plan. Taking a moment to mutter a prayer beneath his breath, the hero dove back downwards, into the fray. Within moments, he was at street level. He'd been gone long enough that the two men had resumed fighting. Before either could react, he was already beside the old man. Gabriel reached out with both hands, and poured ultra-high and -low frequency sound waves into the man's body. Within seconds, his muscles (what was left of them) were locking up, and his stomach was roiling with the worst sickness he'd felt in a long time. He fell to the ground, unable even to clutch himself. Gabriel delivered a quick burst of sound to the man, rendering him unconscious. With a cold expression on his face, Gabriel turned to face the Tattered Man. “Your turn.” The Tattered Man only grinned. “Is it now?” Gabriel recognized that something was wrong. That was the only thing to save his life when a 5th “super-ghoul” sprang from the shadows to slash at him. He narrowly dodged the blow, sending another sonic bolt at the Tattered Man. This one left him standing there groggily, shaking his head. Unfortunately, the ghoul was still active. Its next attack sliced Gabriel's arm open. He fell back a step, clutching his left arm, before looking up with determination burning in his eyes. Another bolt to the Tattered Man left him barely standing. The ghoul grazed the hero's back this time. Finally, a third bolt left the second necromancer unconscious on the ground. Unfortunately, this left Gabriel open enough that the super-ghoul gave him a wicked wound across his torso. He wasn't in danger of being disemboweled, but that was about the best he could say at the moment. Through the pain, he glared at the final foe before him, its jaws wet as it looked hungrily at him. “I say thee...NAY!” A moment's concentration sent a solid line of sonic energy roaring out from his hand, pushing against the ghoul...before smashing it against the far wall, cracking the brick and taking the monster out of commission. Gabriel fell to his knees, unable to even clutch all of his wounds. No one else was around, not even emergency personnel; a metahuman fight was ugly business for them. Slowly, the young man collapsed to one side, moaning in pain. His voice came out in a whisper, too weak to reach the people he knew couldn't be too far away. “Someone...help. God...help me!” And he slipped into the darkness of unconsciousness.

"I... do not know vhat dat is," the Doktor replied with a slightly befuddled look, "and besides, if the thing really was both so dangerous and so easily used, then she should have had it put up in a safer place, not just lying out here." "Ready vhen you are," he said to Kid Cthulhu as he finished the last of the adjustments to his Belt. He was clearly uneasy about and sorry for all of this, and eager to stop it before it got out too out of hand.

"Heh, no, but I would rather not populate my home with something that looks like rejects from The Jersey Shore." The Kammerdieneraffe led Lynn down the left hallway. They first came to a parlor, with numerous chairs (some with plush cushions, some with slim ones), small tables here and there, an an assortment of periodicals scattered about. A log burned in the fireplace, and windows with the drapes pulled back looked out upon a panoply of scenes, most of which were nowhere near Freedom City. Over the fireplace, and on the wall opposite it, was a matched set of large mirrors. Cabinets in the corners held mysteries -- games, perhaps? Next was the dining room, with a table and high-backed chairs for ten. It was bare, and the two small chandeliers above it were dimmed, but she could tell it would not take much to make this place really pop. Her attention now, though, was on the smells coming from beyond, a heady blend of the spices and sauces used in Indian cuisine. The kitchen was the next stop, and despite there being only one man present, it was bustling with activity. But when that one man was Herr Doktor Viktor Archeville, Genius of Science!, well, one was all you needed to fill a whole room with action. He was flying about the room, tending to several different dishes on two stove ranges and in three ovens, and still pulling things out of the fridge for even more dishes! "I hope you brought your appetite!"

A young and very perky blonde woman at the reception desk wave her over. "Hello, Ms. Americana!," the receptionist said in a voice as perky as her appearance. "Doktor Archeville is expecting you, in his office on the twelfth floor. Here," she continued, holding out a VISITORS ID badge attached to a blue lanyard, "you'll need this to get around." Gina briefly wondered which had a higher percentage of plastic, the ID badge or the receptionist's chest. "There's an elevator right down that hallway," she went on, pointing to the largest of the hallways behind her. "Have a super day!" Elsewhere, on another floor, Doktor Archeville was going over some test results from one of ArcheTech's latest experiments, a new version of their blood substitute. "This is good, very good, ja, but those clotting factors are still troubling me. If we could get that section of the protein to fold the other way, then-" A silent alarm from reception alerted him of the arrival of the young (and attractive) genius. "Ladies, gentlemen, please excuse me," he said with a short bow before leaving, "I have been reminded of another appointment."

Colt's second blast did succeed in smothering some of the flame, but he could see it still raged in places. Grim's directions get people away from the interior door and either to her evac slide or to the stairs out back, but a few had already gone down those interior stairs. It would be a few more seconds before everyone was out. Jack of all Blades was busy getting folks out (all of whom, mercifully, were able-bodied adults or teens, all reasonably willing to listen to his orders), when a guy and two girls raced down from the apartment above, panicking and shoving their way through. Jack could also hear Grim's voice coming from the apartment above. Colt turned to the man he'd paralyzed and saw... that he was still there. And still quite limp when he handcuffed him to the lamp post.

Were the gnomes watching her? No, no, just her imagination, surely. Moments after she'd touched the doorbell, the door swung open, seemingly of its own accord. Beyond was a nice foyer, well-lit by a golden chandelier. The stained wood panels along the walls lent an air of elegance to the place, while the colorful mandala design in the tile floor hinted at an appreciation for the exotic, the esoteric. Three hallways, left, center and right, branched off from the room, and simple doors between the halls were, she might assume, coat closets. It suddenly hit Lynn that this foyer alone should, judging by the outer dimensions of the house, take up half the ground floor! "Ah, Lynn, welcome!," the Doktor's disembodied voice greeted from everywhere and nowhere. "So glad you could come on such short notice! Have you had lunch yet? I am in the kitchen; the Kammerdieneraffe can show you the way. I hope you like Indian!" One of the closet doors swung open, and out of it lumbered a silvery gorilla in a butler's suit! A moment's examination revealed that it was in fact a robotic gorilla, and not some sort of mutant; it looked at Lynn as if awaiting for some command.

Not quite: the Super-Breath power feat -- as well as Bracing and Groundstrike and Shockwave and Thunderclap -- are themselves essentially an Alternate Power feat, using your Str mod as the "base effect."

The trio of zombies, receiving no orders from their comatose masters, stood frozen against the wall. Dead Head walked up to them, quickly looking over each one. "Jes' empty shells..." he whispered, "nuthin' there... cain't risk 'em bein' activated, though, coming up behin' us once we pass... " He unslung the shoulder from his back, and held it up like a baseball bat. "Sorry, fellas, but it's th'only way..." He swung at the rightmost one, with enough force to send it crashing into the one next to it, and then both into the third. They fell into a heap, and the faint glow in their eyes was snuffed out.

Cultists are KO'd. Zombies, lacking anyone to give them orders, and not having and contingency orders ("if X, then Y"), stand there. Dead Head takes 10 on his attack with his shovel, power attacking for +/-5 (getting 16 total), easily enough to hit. The zombie would face a DC (15 + 9 + 5) 29 Toughness save, which it cannot make. Takedown Attack 2 lets him mow through the others.

"I can teleport us all to von spot," Archeville said as he began fiddling with the controls on his circuitry-styled belt, "den drop von off und carry de other to de second." "Will that be sufficient?," he asked, looking up. "Or should ve team up against each thing? How tough are dese things?"

Archeville's ears were sharp and they did pick up the sounds coming from Victory's limbs. He smiled as he shook the cyborg's hand, "Oh, I am sure I could find someplace suited to test your speed. Perhaps Doktor Volk vould permit me sometime... ?" he glanced coyly at the AEGIS genius. "Ah, do excuse me, please," he said as he went on to another guest, touching Volk gently on the arm as he went. He mingled very briefly with everyone, slowly making a circuit of the room, stopping by the food bar long enough to get an omelette made and then made his way to his seat at the head of the table. He scanned over the room, getting a sense of the ebb and flow of the myriad conversations taking place; when it reached something approaching a low point, he tapped the water glass with his knife. "Ladies und Gentlemen, please attend carefully! I believe de time has come to start dis meeting in earnest, so if you vould all take a seat, ve can begin."

Oh, fudge it, I don't want this dragging on, and you've got enough pp in the Array to stunt enough ESP or whatever to get what KC wants. (And, I should've been clearer in my PM.)

Kid Cthulhu's mind reels through dimensions untold before snapping back to this plane. When he points, he does so in two directions, east and south. To the east, about half a mile off shore, one of the Squrms darted about over thee water, as if looking for something... or calling to something. Along the shore, several people -- an elderly couple out for a moonlit strolls, some teen hanging out, a few joggers -- all stood at the edge, looking to the creature. But they did not look out of curiosity, or stare agape in terror -- it was a more worshipful look. Or a dominated look... To the south, the other Squrm was circling a castle-like five story French country-style estate situated on the seaside bluffs overlooking Great Bay in Port Regal. A place redolent of history, madness, and magic: Providence Asylum. A few faces peered out the asylum's windows, looking up plaintively at the creature.

Awww, man.... "Hey!," he called out, waving cheerfully and walking towards it. "Yer a big fella, ain'tcha! Now... oh, hol' on, hol' on..." He paused, took a half step back, "y'ain't gonna tell me yer playin' t'all th' negative sterotypes'a ghouls, are ya? Bro!" He slapped his thigh, "how're we ever gonna get Equal Rights fer Undead if we keep actin' like the murderous beasts the Live-Man makes us out t'be? Ya wanna prove Fulci an' Snyder right? We can be better'n that!" I really hope this guy's still got a mind in there!

Visiting family this weekend, won't be on much Sat morning-Sun evening.

Yes, and yes. And sitting guard is now flat on his back.

Ironclad's vignette, and Breakdown's & Muse's joint vignette, have been added.

It's a Thriller Night Tonight Breakdown / Muse THIS VIGNETTE ADVERTISES NO SUPPORT, OF OR BELIEF IN, THE OCCULT. October 15, 2010 - Just outside Freedom Cemetary, 11:52PM Two figures walked down a lonely street during the middle of October. The air was crisp and cold. It had the type of chill that sent shivers down your spine, if you let it get to you. To their left, beyond the sidewalk stretched Freedom Cemetary. About one hundred yards into the property passed the wrought iron fence, a low hanging fog spilled across the grounds. Eddie Ozan and Elizabeth Skillman had been out for a while. Their Friday evening was beginning to come to a close. They had met earlier that night, gotten coffee, and gone to see a movie. A movie that would prove quite interesting for the upcoming events. You see dear reader, it is October; near midnight. And strange things happen during the month of October. For October is the month of witchcraft. The month of ghosts and gouls. The month of monsters! There was also some sighting of said ghouls in the community, but tonight, these youths, unaware of their surroundings, would tempt fate. There was a silence as the two walked arm-in-arm, trying to fight off the cold. Talk of the movie was taking their minds off of the chill. "Elizabeth, stop for a second." Eddie began hesitantly. Still holding her hand, he stopped walking and turned to face her. His back toward the fence - and the cemetary. Though Eddie wasn't the tallest person, he was still able to look down at the slightly shorter Elizabeth. "I've got something to tell you," he said. Elizabeth smiled, nothing really could make this night better. Maybe Eddie was really something more than he was projecting to be. Boy, how little she knew, "What's up, Eddie," she said with a light nudge. "I like you, Liz, but you should know..." Eddie hesitated, "I haven't had the best luck with women. I'm telling you so that you can make a fair judgement of who I am. I..." Eddie stopped short as he felt something pinch his arm... Elizabeth happily listened, "oh boy he's gonna tell me about the psycho ex," she thought as he mentioned the luck and judgement. She smiled, "If you have anything you need to get off your chest I'd be glad to hear it." She hugged him, "I'm here for you, Eddie.". Elizabeth's words and hug were nearly an afterthought, as Eddie looked down to see five hands. Two belonged to him, two belonged to Elizabeth, holding his own. A fifth had a tight hold on his upper right arm. It was grey, and mottled. With pieces of skin hanging off in places. The nails were either cracked, broken, or missing. Even in the chill October air, it reeked. Suddenly, the hand jerked him backward, and he was torn from Elizabeth's grasp to slam into the fence. Elizabeth gasped at the sight! This was just like the film they had watched! TOO MUCH like the film they had watched! "Ahh!" Eddie cried out, as more hands began grasping at his clothing. He was able to turn his head slightly to see the creatures behind him. They looked human, but the hollow deathly hunger in their eyes was decidedly not! Elizabeth could only watch in abject horror. She could not move. The scene was very much more real then the movie! You know, you always say "I could totally be in a monster movie, that looks stupid" but when it happens to you, you stand dumbfounded looking at the zombies eat your date. The rungs of the iron fence groaned against the force of the zombie's undead strength. "Elizabeth!" Eddie cried out, "Help me!" Elizabeth tried to call upon her divine power but it was useless against the dead things. The golden smite of divinity shrugged off. and yet... No sooner had the words left his mouth than the iron rungs behind Eddie's back snapped. Elizabeth finally found her voice. Though her mouth produced no words. A shrill cry of horror escaped her lips at the sight of it all. Eddie quickly disappeared into the inky black of the cemetary under the cover of the growing fog... Elizabeth could not believe her eyes. Eddie... was alive...He had to be alive. He couldn't just have taken off to be food. She hoped in her heart that he was. Else this would have been a really stupid idea to chase after him. But stupid was what you did when you cared for others. Getting carried off by the undead was something you really don't stand for. The graveyard was empty. Giant tombstones of people long past, but no zombies or Eddie. This whole lapse of common sense thing spurred her on, "Eddie?" she questioned the night air futilely, "Eddie?!" Suddenly, a hand burst out of the soft earth, and grasped her ankle. The hand pulled, and soon the ground was bursting open. "Elizabeth!" Came the muffled response, as Eddie's head burst through the ground. Encrusted with dirt, he clambered out of the hole he'd been buried in. He lay panting on the ground for a long moment, finally able to say, "You've got to run! It isn't safe!" She picked him up and cradled him, "You're coming with me." It was no use, Eddie was dead weight in her arms. The undead abominations were besetting upon them and she couldn't save him, but that didn't mean she wouldn't try. She pulled him as best as she could the monsters slowly lurching toward them... "Elizabeth, stop." Eddie managed to scramble to his feet. "I'll hold them off. I'll give you time to run, but you've got to go now!" Elizabeth looked to the zombies and then back to Eddie, then back to the zombies and then back to Eddie. The poor brave... HEROIC fool. She couldn't let him die, but he was right. She held him tight, "Thank you for the awesome night tonight. I'll remember you as a hero." She sprinted away. Unfortunately for her she had no idea where she was going and was running further into the graveyard. Eddie set his jaw, and turned to face the growing crowd of abominations behind him. He'd said all he could. Now it was time to dance. (oh god. such a bad line. I'll come back to this). All of the molecules in Eddie's body began vibrating. A song began wafting over the graveyard. This song was very familiar to the things that spent their time in darkness. One by one, the zombie's lurching gait slowed, and came to a stop only feet from where Eddie was standing. They stared at him with dead, unintelligent eyes. They were his, now. The music demanded their obedience. [groove]22864567[/groove] Eddie began walking. Step by step. One by one, the zombies fell into synch behind him. Their synchronized footfalls were in time with the music, creating a loud stomping sound whenever they moved. Elizabeth did not know where she was, the rows and rows of graves were winding. She had gotten herself lost. Though... was that music? Where was it coming from? She stopped for a moment to slowly look back... What she saw could only be described as an army. The undead were assembled behind Eddie, following him, hanging on his every movement, his every gesture. The terror, it was back. They had gotten him. She didn't know how they did it but they did She froze in terror before the sight. She was paralyzed! "Eddie," she thought, "no." Well that's not all she was thinking, but beyond the fear was regret that she could do nothing for her fallen hero. The army drew closer, and closer to the girl who was paralyzed with fear. They came within ten feet of her, and stopped. Suddenly, Elizabeth could see something in Eddie's eyes. There was a clever determination there, much unlike the cold dead hunger the zombies behind him held in their eyes. Suddenly, Eddie began walking sideways a few paces, and the zombies followed. He reversed direction, and still the Zombies followed. He halted in place, and drew his arms up into the air forming a mockery of the zombie's cold dead claw like hands. The army of undead behind him mimicked his every movement, all in time with the music. Elizabeth was in shock. She was happy that Eddie was... fighting it, but still did not know what to think of the matter. There was a pause in the strange dance, all of a sudden. Eddie's head snapped toward her, and so did the heads of the rest of the walking corpses some of which lost theirs in the process. His eyes were wide, "Elizabeth, run!" he called out, "'Cuz it's a Thriller night, tonight!" She was still driven by the fear. She was driven by a desperate instinct. And run she did. the momentary lapse in fear resulted in more fear for her safety. She hoped Eddie was OK. This couldn't end well for him. She ran This graveyard seemed endless! There was a building up ahead. maybe she could lose them in there. Because that always works, right? hiding from the monster. She didn't know what to think at the moment. The building was actually a crypt. It was full of coffins! "Great," she thought. "they'll never think to look in here." Unfortunately for her the things knew exactly where she was. And Eddie was the one unknowingly leading them straight towards their... midnight snack. As Elizabeth ran, Eddie gave her the head start he'd promised. He snapped his neck back, and lurched forward. A few of the zombies following along lost their heads in the process, and collapsed to the ground where they stood. The others were completely oblivious. "It's working!" Eddie thought. He took a few more steps, and the zombies followed along. Then he stopped, and spun in a circle. A few of the zombies that had little fine control over their limbs ended up knocking into other nearby zombies. Even more damage was done to the horde as these victims were sent sprawling. The following dance routine was a series of agile moves that the zombies could not follow. Many tried, and many failed. More zombies ended up with snapped bones and unusable limbs for trying to follow the dance moves of their leader to which they were bound by the enchanting music. By the time the song came to a close, Eddie was the only one left standing in what was a previously large crowd of undead. Many were left lying on the ground, legs unusable. Others had lost arms legs and heads entirely. Without a word, Eddie ran off after Elizabeth. Elizabeth remembered an older film Though it probably wouldn't help her now, her sanity needed it. When dealing with zombies you gotta think of something or you'll be left a shreiking wreck. "That's it! Hide in here until morning. They'll even find me and i can just walk home." she mumbled to herself, "I just hope that they're all gone. All gone." She sighed, "Eddie." "Elizabeth!" Eddie burst through the doors of moseleum. Elizabeth heard his voice, was it real? She had to see! She stood up. He ran to her side and and held her. "It's okay, they're gone!" She hugged him, her voice was teary, "You're alive too. That's what matters. I thought you were dead." "Not dead," He told her. Behind them the doors burst open and a surge of zombies entered the room. "Undead!" Eddie's eyes flashed and Elizabeth screamed! But wait! She was in her bed. She remembered the night clearly, but her dreams had appended on a... an eighties zombie music video? Really? It was all so realistic She would have picked up the phone and called Eddie, but what would he say? No, she would wait until the morning and call him She scrunched under the cover. "Silly nightmares." Eddie gasped, and sat bolt upright in his bed. He was sweating, and the sheets had been thrown everywhere. It looked like he had been running in his sleep. He held his head with his hand. "I think I had a little too much to drink on that date..." Eddie rubbed his temple, and laid back down. He pulled the ruffled covers back over himself, "And too much pumpkin pie..." Before long, he was asleep once more. Deep inside every one of us lurks... The Thriller! Muahahah HAhaha HAHAhahaaaaa.

Sorry, neglected to mention one very important thing: all five guys here are treated as Minions. Standing Cultist... is no longer standing. Got anything else to add? If not, roll initiative. If so... roll initiative at the end. Cultist: Initiative (1d20=11) Zombie Minions: Initiative (1d20-1=8) Dead Head: Initiative (1d20+2=6)