Dr Archeville

Scene: My sister (and her fiance) & I went to our Mom's house for Thanksgiving weekend. Mom's in the spare room checking her email, while my sister & I are in the living room; she's reading a magazine, I'm watching tv. Me: [flipping through channels, finds Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King is on Encore] "Ooh." [it's one of the big battle scenes, and an Orc just took a big bite out of some human's neck; Encore was showing the trilogy all weekend] Sis: "Tch." Me: "Hrm?" Sis: "So you can watch this, but not Twilight?" Me: "..." Sis: "It's all the same, right?" Me: "..." Sis: "There's killing, and vampires, and a guy and a girl who can't be together, right?" Me: "... I..." [i turn to the spare room] Me: "Mom, I have to kill [sister], okay?" Mom [deadpan]: "Don't kill your sister, she's the only one who'll give me a grandchild." [i turn back to my sister, who's sticking her tongue out at me] Me: "..." [sis gos back to her magazine, I watch the movie. A few moments later...] Sis: "You know, the latest Twilight movie was more sci-fi-y..." Me: "..." Sis: "'cuz the wolves talked! It was crazy!" Me: "..."

We :love: U, Sorus

:eye2: :Batman:

If it's able, Dead Head will have it crawl/roll after him. Is Gorsky carrying a bag it might roll in to?

They're Pinky and the Brain, they're Pinky and the Brain...

As soon as his 'bug' was in, Dead Head hightailed it off the hospital grounds, running faster than any of the security guards could hope to move. After all, they had to worry about muscles tearing or misstepping and spraining something, whereas an undead sprinter did not. And misstep he did, owing to the decreased depth perception due to having only one eye in his head. Man, years of doin' this, an' it still gets disorientin'. He followed as best he could, trying to identify what pieces of landmarks his remote eye could spy. He breathed a sigh of relief (one of the few times he took in a breath) when the car stopped and Gorsky got out at the cheap motel, but now he had to try to find it. Is he just runnin' scared? Is he leavin' Freedom fer good? Or is he jes' panicked? I'll trail him for a bit, see if he doubles back to his house, or if he calls anyone t'come meet him here.

Thursday-Saturday I'll be up at my Mom's for Thanksgiving/Christmas decorating/furniture moving (she's getting her kitchen ceiling replaced, so everything has to be moved out of there). Internet access will be sporadic.

FjQr3lRACPI EVOLVE!!!

Downsizer strikes again!

Cubist is Cube, and Cube is Cu!

Need to get my bearings. Seems the ziggurat is constructed in such a way that the sun will passed through the crown at the top. So I am to the east of it now. I was carried from some sort of merchant's area, which would be to the north; south is some manner of... arena? And a golden tower beyond. And a huge mountain range behind the ziggurat, to the west. I- Archeville's brief scan was interrupted when the giant who carried him flung him to the ground with dozens of other conscripts. With surprising speed and callous efficiency, more giant guards manhandled them, stripping them of all clothes and tossing them to piles along the sides of the procession; more black cossacked officials sorted through the clothing, pocketing or distributing whatever seemed interesting before ordering the rest to be tossed onto bonfires. What protestations were voiced -- which were less than Archeville expected -- were either ignored or met with a strong backhand. Have to get my Belt and Screwdriver back from them, but I cannot do much in this condition. Perhaps I can persuade the guards I would be of more use outside the slave pits, in some manner of scholarly position. "Ah, yes, excuse me," he began, trying any guard or official who might listen, "I think there has been a mistake. I am a Doktor, you see, and would be much better suited-" The naked slaves -- including Archeville, now sporting a nasty black eye -- were marched and shoved towards another set of giants, flanking a trio of bald, short, stocky humanoids (dwarves? they lack beards, though), who proceeded to shave off all hair from the head and face, using oil and razors made from obsidian. My hair! Yes, I am in shock, as I am trying not to dwell on how damnably familiar this all looks! My labcoat! Oh, wow, they are going through every single pocket in it. And seem really, really taken with all the metal and weapons. Once done, the freshly-shorn slaves were shoved towards another set of giant guards flanking another trio of humanoids, who handed out simple clothing (loincloths or shrifts), a blanket and small waterskin, then they were herded into the slave pits proper. Here, taskmasters assembled the slaves and assigned each to a work crew commanded by an overseer. Maybe those officials will pull me out of here, ask about my gear? Even shorn and dressed in these rags, I should be easy for them to pick out, given my pale and un-scarred skin.

The great ziggurat towered hundreds of feet in sharp-edged splendor above the squalor of the sun-baked city. Each level of the terraced pyramid was finished in glazed brick of a different color: gleaming violet at the base, then indigo, azure, green, yellow, fiery orange, and, finally, scarlet. In the center of the huge structure, a pair of mighty bastions marked each of the seven levels. The bastions flanked an enormous staircase, which ran straight from base to summit, reaching for the flaxen moons that hovered over the monument's lofty crown, infusing the crimson skies with an amber blush. Not but darkness could be seen inside, though how much of this was due to the obsidian covering the interior walls, ceilings and floors, and how much was due to Kalak's malign presence, none would dare say. When Archeville came to, they had reached the slave pens and pits, immediately east of the great ziggurat. The surrounding brickyards and the high eastern sandstone wall of the city created the perfect enclosure for keeping slaves. The pens themselves, where slaves rested between workshifts, were surrounded by a 20 foot tall wall, with guard towers located in each corner. He spied six pits along the western side of the pen, which he first thought were lavatory pits, but the pitiable moans from within indicated there for disobedient slaves... and excrement. A templar's platform and gibbet (a gallows for execution and display of the bodies as a warning) were set to either side of the narrow gate, the only way in and out of the slave pens. Outside the gate the kitchens and water trough had been constructed for the meager needs of the slave workers.

I cannot make it through! I am sorry I failed you! No, no, you didn't fail me, boy! Ya done good! Ya did! Go'on back to the window an' keep an eye on things there, let us know if'n that taureau starts doin' somethin' else. Dead Head shook his head, "looks like it holds both ways, Mutt couldn't get through from outside. Looks like we'll have t'drop it t'get anythin' done. Sooo," he looked out with his one eye at the officers and others around them, then turned back to his two co-mages, "we get them all t'move back, one of you brings down the ward, I do the rodeo clown bit t'distract it while the others ropes the sucker?"

"I must correct you, Friend-Supercape," it said, tone still flat and even and lacking any emotional inflection, "that I am far from 'unthinking'. My cognitive processes are different from yours, but they do exist. I shall bring tea and light snacks down," it added without pause, "and would enjoy observing sub-atomic particles with you." Moments later, the elevator doors slid opened, and Protectron's metal footsteps echoed through the halls. It carried a small picnic basket on one arm, filled with an assortment of teas, a small electric kettle, a few bottles of water, and an assortment of protein bars and trail mix. "What manner of particles have you been observing?"

Who would imagine such an unfortunate series of events! There's ample warning of the coming nastiness, so no one is surprised. Quick & Dirty Stats: Torban, Half-Giant Commander (PL 7) Assistant Templars, 2 (PL 3) Half-Giant Soldiers, 6 (PL 5) Eramas, Human Gladiator (PL 5) Dok's initiative (1d20+7=22) Torban's initiative (1d20+1=16) Assistant Templar's initiative (1d20=4, 1d20=11) Half-Giant Soliders's initiative (1d20+2=11, 1d20+2=6, 1d20+2=17, 1d20+2=7, 1d20+2=4, 1d20+2=5) Eramas's initiative (1d20+1=8) Initiative 22 -- Dok -- unharmed, 6 HP 11 -- Half-Giant Soldier #3 16 -- Torban 11 -- Half-Giant Soldier #1 11 -- Assistant Templar #2 08 -- Eramas 07 -- Half-Giant Soldier #4 06 -- Half-Giant Soldier #2 05 -- Half-Giant Soldier #6 04 -- Half-Giant Soldier #5 04 -- Assistant Templar #1 ROUND 1 Dok is outnumbered. But they're just simple thugs, easily intimidated by a show of advanced technology, right? Surely no match for him! Free Action: Realize Movement Systems of his Belt aren't working. Move Action: Adjust Electromagnetic Screwdriver Stun 10 (taser-'blade') {20/20} Standard Action: Intimidate to Demoralize Intimidate check (1d20+6=22) Trban's Will save vs. Intimidate, +2 bonus for not wanting to displease his tyrant (DC 22) (1d20+7=26) passes Assistant Templars' Will save vs. Intimidate, +2 bonus for not wanting to displease their tyrant (DC 22) (1d20+5=24, 1d20+5=12) #1 passes, #2 fails Half-Giant Soldiers's Will save vs. Intimidate, +2 bonus for not wanting to displease their tyrant (DC 22) (1d20+6=23, 1d20+6=25, 1d20+6=10, 1d20+6=12, 1d20+6=11, 1d20+6=10) #1 and 2 passes, #s 3-6 fail Half-Giant Solider #3 (demoralized/shaken [-2 attack/saves/checks]) Move Action: Moves to Dok Standard Action: Swings with obsidian sword Attack vs. Dok (Defense 20) (1d20+2=13) misses Torban Free Action: Activates "Flesh Armor" Move Action: Moves to Dok Standard Action: Swings copper club Attack vs. Dok (Defense 20) (1d20+6=14) misses Free Action: Shouts orders Half-Giant Solider #1 Move Action: Moves to Dok Standard Action: Attempts to Grapple Attack vs. Dok (Defense 20) (1d20+4=14) misses Assistant Templar #2 (demoralized/shaken [-2 attack/saves/checks]) Standard Action: Casts Silence spell on area, centered at Dok's feet. Move/Free Action: Continues ordering the homeless and indigent. Eramas Move Action: Springs forward to... Standard Action: ... attack Hal-Giant Soldier #4 Attack vs. Half-Giant #4 (Defense 14); DC 21 Toughness save if it hits (1d20+3=20) Toughness save, DC 21 (1d20+6=22) passes Half-Giants #2, 4, 6, 5 (4-6 demoralized/shaken) Hold action until all can act as one Move Actions: Move towards Dok Standard Actions (#s 4,5,6): Attempt to grapple Dok; 4, 5 and 6 Aid #2 Aid Another attack (DC 10), with -2 penalty for demoralized (1d20+2=19, 1d20+2=4, 1d20+2=16) 2 wind up helping, so that's +4 to the aided one's attack Standard Action (#2): Attempt to Grapple Dok, with +4 bonus from Aid Attack vs. Dok (Defense 20) (1d20+8=11) Attack vs. Dok (Defense 20); Fiat re-roll (1d20+8=18) That 10 becomes a 20 (though not a Natural 20), so 28 hits Dok Half-Giant's Grapple check, with +4 bonus from Aid (1d20+11=31) oh yeah! Dok can't beat that, but we need to see how much he fails by: Dok's opposed grapple check (1d20+8=23) fails by 8, so he's bound & helpless! Assistant Templar #1 Sees Dok's belt glowing the same as his force field/'magic aura', so he steps forward and removes the Belt (Which he can do since Dok's helpless). ROUND 2 Dok (bound, helpless, 7 HP) Dok's grapple check to escape (1d20+8=16) Half-Giant Soldiers' opposed grapple/escape check (1d20+11=30) he's well and truly held And cannot plead, because they're in an Auditory Obscure field. Half-Giant #3 (no longer demoralized) Full Action: Works Dok over, i.e., delivers a coup de grace (with his fists; the pale stranger could make a useful find). No attack roll needed, treated as a crit hit, so it's a DC 23 (15 + 3 + 5) Toughness save, followed (if he's still up) by a DC 18 Fort save or be KO'd. Toughness save, DC 23 (1d20+4=10) Yeouch! Fails by 13, so Dok's KO'd! When Dok awakes, he'll find he's lost more than his Belt...

Archeville tried to speak, but the strange silence field was still up. The woman strode forward, satisfied smile on her lips, and looked Archeville over. She did not know what magic this man had, but she saw the aura around him matched the glow of the strange belt her wore. She traced her fingers over it, and soon it was off, leaving him largely defenseless. Archeville struggled to get free, but his efforts failed, even when amplified by the adrenaline rush at seeing a fourth giant approach. It looked down on Archeville, and grinned, then rammed one giant fist into his stomach. All breath (and his breakfast) fled him, but before the giant could pull back for another blow, it was clear the foreigner was unconscious. One giant flung Archeville over his shoulders, like a sack of potatoes, while others rounded up the new slaves, or scooped up metal detritus from the ground. Soon the streets were cleared, left to the merchants and few nobles, and the pres gang headed back to the ziggurat that dominated the center of the city.

From among the indigents lined up against the wall, one man -- clad in grey scaly leathers, with a set of bone blades strapped to one wrist -- charged forward. He ran for one of the giants, and would normally be heard shouting exuberant challenges to them all if not for the mystical silence upon the field. His presence was not unnoticed, not by the giant he attacked, as he slashed at the slaver's legs, but the armored plates on his shins held strong. The giant paid no attention to the man, and instead did as his commander ordered, charging towards Archeville, along with three other giants. They practically dove for him, kicking up dust from the parched unpaved roads; in moments Archeville was solidly held by them, one leg each by a giant and a third holding both uppers arms. No! This cannot... this is not how-

The giant nearest Archeville -- who had been shaken by his threats -- drew a wicked-looking sword of obsidian and charged forward, but his swing missed Archeville by a wide margin. The club-wielding one concentrated a moment, and his flesh warped and hardened, taking on a slightly warped appearance. He then charged forward, club held high, intending to bring it crashing down on the stranger's head, but Archeville proved too nimble. "" the giant growled out. He turned his head slightly and bellowed to the other soldier, "" Another giant charged forward, arms wide to tackled Archeville, but the Doktor was still too agile a foe to strike. "" the bald man called out, then began chanting. Archeville could not make out what he said, but he did recognize the name 'Kalak' uttered again and again... and then he heard nothing. No chants, no grunts, no murmurs or cries, nothing -- the entire area fell dead silent.

Not how I was hoping this would start. Still, I can easily- ah, no, my Belt's movement systems are out! Must have been a minor overload from the Defensive systems that shorted it out, or- oh, I can figure it out later! Odds are good these people have never seen technology like mine, so a show of power should make them back off, at least enough for me to escape. Archeville was quick on the draw, reaching into his labcoat to draw out his trusty Electromagnetic Screwdriver. A blade of blazing blue electricity sprang from one end, which he held up in a (he hoped) threatening pose. "Keep back! One blow from this shall cause neuromuscular incapacitation sufficient to cause immediate and unavoidable incapacitation! Back! Back!" Many eyes turned to Archeville. The bald man actually did take a step back, causing his female companion to snort derisively. Four of the armored giants shifted on their feet, but three -- including the biggest one, prodding people around with a great club -- seemed unfazed.

Language seems vaguely Phoenician... Slaves? I- crap, they have already spotted me! As more and more people were lined up against the walls, the two bald figures and two of their giants approached Archeville, and the remains of Wells's craft. "" the man called out, " Best watch what I say, or they will conscript me for this ziggurat project. Perhaps my title would grant me some leeway. "I am Doktor Viktor Archeville," he began, or that's what he hoped he'd said. "" the man spat. "" he said, almost off-handedly, to the giants. Two of them stalked towards Archeville.

As Archeville moved to shoo away a beggar tentatively reaching out for a piece of Wells's craft, another ruckus from down one street began to draw people's attention. Two bald humans, a man and a woman, both in black cassocks with purple sashes, covered by gray scaly leather corsets, marched down the street, surrounded by seven giants nearly eight feet tall in armor made from the chitinous plates of some giant insect. Shutters and doors slammed as they passed, and the streets quickly cleared, the rabble darting behind stalls and tables, or running down alleys. Some of the giants peeled off from the group to chase the runners, hefting them up and tossing them into the center of the road, then stood to block the alleys so no more could flee. "" the human man shouted, "" "," a slightly portly merchant in a loose blue tunic protested as two smaller figures huddled behind him. "" The man faltered at the withering gaze of the bald woman, but he quickly rallied, "" The woman turned to the man; a few furtive gestures passed between them. They knew the ziggurat project needed slaves... but their pockets needed lining. The woman turned back to the merchant, "" The merchant sputtered, "" His protests were cut off by a giant's hands closing on around his head. "" she said, voice dripping like tainted honey, "" Some of the giants chuckled at this. The merchant shook his head (as much as he was able), and motioned for his two slaves out. They emerged, one a short and stocky man, bald but with a full beard, and the other a young, thin woman. Both wore little more than loincloths and a vest, and the girl looked like she'd not eaten a good meal in days.

A figure moved about the cafe on level 1, in precise, inhuman efficiency. The cafe's automated systems worked with the figure, dancing about each other like a finely choreographed ballet. At one end of the room was raw foodstuffs, fruits and vegetables and lean meats, but once they passed through the steel dervishes, they occupied another section of the galley as ready-to-eat meals and gift baskets. Protectron enjoyed the work, making sure the Lab staff and its visitors had the nutrition they needed to see them through their activities in the building, pausing only at the interruption from the Lab's systems. One of the monitors in the Particle Smasher lab on sub-level -4 flared to life, and was filled with Protectron's golden head and blazing green eyes. "Greetings, Friend-Supercape," it said in its flat, electronic voice. "How are you this evening? Do you require sustenance? I can prepare a wide variety of dishes for you, but I regret I am unable to bring it to you there; as you know my access through the Lab ends at sub-level -1, three levels above you."

Those are important parts, yes. :approved: