Ecalsneerg
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Arrowhawk took a step back as the figure collapsed at her feet, surprised at how brief a fight that had been. She brought a hand to her mouth, smearing some of the blood trickling from her nose across her cheek. "That was... unexpected," she conceded, glancing at the other figure... who seemed to just be standing there. She let out a long, hard sigh. "Well. Undead in the streets of this city. It would be churlish to expect you to contribute." She rolled her eyes and ignored the other man's searching of the car and general... spaciness. Bending at the waist to peer down at the corpse's curious wound, her fingers prodded the edges of it. No blood. Curious even for the undead. "It definitely wasn't human!" she said a conversationally.
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Search: 1d20+1 3 Searching again: 1d20+1 14
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Before Osla could even react there was a fist in her face and in her gut. The draugr was scarily fast and strong, and she was in melee range with it. It was all she could do to bring up her bow, pushing back with it like a quarterstaff as she put a couple of paces between her and the monster. "You think I'm the killer?" she asked incredulously, paying no heed to the man behind her urging them to be sensible and just talk it through. Why would she do that? She was fairly sure her nose was bleeding. "You eat people," she continued incredulously, sounding more weary and confused than anything. Stepping back in, she delivered a quick snap kick to the draugr's stomach to put it off balance, before hitting it open palmed in the face. Only between its face and her palm was an enchanted length of wood, and on her hand gauntlets giving her preternatural strength. Her bow hit the creature in the head with an audible thud.
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Toughness save, DC24: 1d20+8 12 So she fails by 12 and is staggered and dazed. I'm not one for using Hero Points on PvP, but honestly... being staggered before we even fight the bad guy is less fun. Reroll, min roll 11: 1d20+8 20 So she's just Bruised and has 2 Hero Points. She will also All-Out Attack for -2/+2, using her Strike on Mister Strix. This will leave her at Defence 18 until her next action. Face punch [DC 23]: 1d20+12 20
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Arrownitiative: 1d20+8 15
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Arrowhawk frowned at the new man's approach. This was all too unusual. For one thing, generally people took a telling when she threatened them. Secondly, it seemed a lot of capes had converged on this one spot. Thirdly, things were fogging up and freezing. Taking a sharp breath inwards, she decided to simply the situation. "Elsewhere, you say?" she asked, before a small smile formed on her lips. She swung the bow downwards and let go of the string, the arrow scything towards the white-clad man's knee. She was no Tyr, or John Fraser, but she could certainly shoot a stationary target, and shoot it she did, the arrow penetrating just below the knee joint. "Does there work?"
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So. Um. Accurate Attacking for 3: 1d20+14 34 Um. Sorry for critting your PC? DC24 after the -3 DC but +5 crit DC.
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I mean, I'm sure if you threw us a roll, we'd give you what we'd give you if we had written a Rep table
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Arrowhawk rubbed at her temple, teeth gritted. She'd had gods try to do this to her before. And this... thing... was no Loki. It was there, rummaging through a car. And it looked like it'd done something to Donaghy. The outline looked like a caped man. Another caped crusader? A mob enforcer? He was in all white. A member of one of the supremacist gangs? It didn't matter much to her, she'd need to find out. Either way, Donaghy wasn't getting his money tonight. She stepped off the facade, wind in her face, eyes closing for a moment before she turned, grapnel in hand, smoothly gliding to the pavement at a much more reasonable pace, boots lightly touching the asphalt without very much of a sound. The sound came when she leveled an arrow at the back of the white figure's head, eyes tracing down the wooden haft to the cold, metal head as she sighted. "I can see you."
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Notice check, Will save; Stealth check: 1d20+10 19 1d20+9 28 1d20+15 32
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Sorry, didn't see this until now. I'm in.
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DICE: 10#1d20 1 19 1 13 20 5 19 15 5 14 Eeeh. Well, currently Arrowhawk has 5 HP, 3 base, 2 because you awarded in the first fight. This means she's going to triumphantly going to do her final act ass kicking. Arrowhawk will use her actions to attack, Power Attacking for -2 to hit, +2 DC each time. If it's at range, she's Blast it, if it comes in close, she'll Strike it with the bow. If she misses, which she will with her initial 1 to hit, she will use a HP to re-roll (which I assume slides it along to the next roll in the chain). Obviously if the 1 lands on a Toughness save for her, she'll re-roll that too
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"Daylight," said Arrowhawk confidently. She turned and looked at each of the three in turn. "They won't hunt in the day. Too risky for them. Even with connections, even with guards, anonymity fades in the daylight. They'll rely on anonymity. Trust me," she said, standing before them in a costume and cloak. She inclined her head to Moon. "We get her to that 'Jazz club', hide out until noon, leave the city then. All we need to do is stay hidden and safe until then."
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Arrowhawk nocked an arrow, pointing it in the direction of the living room. She began to slowly edge back out of the building, fluidly moving toe to heel with each foot before raising the other leg to edge backwards. "Come forth, creature!" she called, slightly irritated Wadjet had decided to cut off all visibility inside the building. "Are you a coward? Do you not wish to fight a being that can fight back? COME OUT AND FIGHT ME!!"
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Initiative: 1d20+8 27
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Arrowhawk took a quick glance at the large hole in the glass. Something of formidable size must have made this, and a sick feeling twisted in her stomach as she realised the short list of things that size, and the likelihood of just what had made it. "Then the guards are in grave danger too. We should have arrived sooner." Osla grasped Orheidr firmly in one hand as she strode into the house. "Stay behind me." She let her boots clatter on the floor as she drew in a deep breath. "SHOW YOURSELF!" she suddenly yelled, voice booming through the house. "AND PERHAPS I WILL GO EASIER ON YOU IF YOU DO!"
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Arrowhawk tilted her head as she looked at the other woman's strange weapon, before tutting. Her voice carried a note of exasperation as she turned and began to stride out of the room and the building, not waiting to see if Wadjet was following behind. "Would it not have made sense to have sent one of those who can fly on each team?" She reached up, adjusting her hood, reaching beneath it to ensure it was still clipped to her braids. "We're going to have to make double time. I hope you can keep up." Despite her annoyance at Lady Horus, Arrowhawk had not encountered this newcomer yet, and given what appeared to be a similar modus operandi to hers, didn't harbour any immediate entity to the other half of the Sunhawk's strange double act.
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I feel like no one else has addressed this; but it is an important point. This site uses the 2nd edition version of Mutants & Masterminds (albeit with several house rules), not the 3rd edition book, so you'll need to make your build using the 2nd edition book.
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Arrowhawk snatched up the photo of Bedlam's Ladies Academy, lightly tossing it up and down in her hand as she paced over to the kneeling woman. As usual, Lady Horus had just barged in and ignored the photograph with the exact name they were specifically here to look for. She held it up as she crouched down, most of her face shadowed by her cowl. "A woman was magically compelled not to say this name. Bedlam Ladies Academy." She leaned closer, smiling widely. It was like the grin of an alligator, utterly lacking in any form of humour whatsoever. "Who are they really?"
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Arrowhawk sighed and rolled her eyes. Lady Horus did not have any measure of patience or hesitance in simply storming buildings. She let out a deep sigh, shouldering her bow and she strode through the open door confidently, staring straight ahead, eyes taking in the rooms ahead of her without looking quite directly at anything or anyone. She kept her eyes and ears out, alert to anything Lady Horus may have missed in her great haste.
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Arrowhawk knelt down besides the fallen woman. "Tyr's fell hand, I should have known. Someone has laid a geas on her. I am unsure if it will be fatal, but well..." She shrugged, glancing over at Wadjet. "She is compelled to conceal the source from us, or else death will claim her. Or at least agony enough to make death preferable." She tilted her head to glare at the Sunhawk from beneath her cowl, one piercing blue eyes fixed on her. "I do not know what power you have, discount Álfröðull, but only magic or the gods can intervene here." She gestured with one metal-gauntleted hand. "Do you have the skill to?"
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Arcane lore: 1d20+5 20 Give me the skinny. Is she cursed; under a geas, under a goose... ?
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Arrowhawk broke off from her glaring to look at the woman in the bedraggled clothing. "Chick who wrestles?" she asked, a mix of disbelief and wry amusement in her voice. A smile briefly crossed her lips before turning back to the old woman, baring her teeth once more. In all this, she hadn't once let her grip on the woman waver, supernaturally strong grip clasped on her shoulder. "I was born to death," hissed Osla. "I grew up in a realm of death. And I walked straight out. I do not have the patience left for riddles and enigmas, for gods and for monsters." This was true, she did not have the patience to deal with the Sunhawk's mannerisms today. Her nerves were fried. "I want this done with. Now."
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Arrowhawk looked at the man compassionately. She knew he'd try to fight them. He'd maybe get a few. But he was one man with a gun. "Steve, I don't think this place is secure enough. There's too many of them. Too well armed." She glanced back at the detective and the homeless woman, before leaning in closer, speaking in a quiet voice. "You must have somewhere else you know, somewhere more secure."
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Intimidate!!!: 1d20+10 23 Scary Batman is scary