Ecalsneerg

Arrowhawk frowned under her cowl, bemused at the Nose's odd mannerisms. Clearly something was a little off with this one. "And is not being able to tell me how to save that girl and stop this hunt a form of power and protection? If I did not think you'd help me, I would have brought you low with the others." She still made no move to advance, but she was wasting time she did not have. "Be better, Nose. Where I come from, there is a man of preternatural sight, just as you have preternatural smell. He is a living legend. People speak his name across the many worlds. So many people. I know you can help me, if you just tell me."

I like it, but I'm going to expand on it a bit. Basic overview: The Pact was created in the First Century CE by Simon Magus, that era's Master Mage. Before the Pact the gods walked freely on Earth and all too often victimized or manipulated mortals. Simon Magus ensured that divine and infernal forces would need human permission to enter the Earth's dimensions, changing the fundamental structure of the Omniverse to do it. Attempting to break through the metaphysical barrier would destroy the would-be invader and, if they held the monumental power of a god, the mortal world itself. Ever since then the Pact has protected the Earth and its inhabitants from unasked-for intrusion by outside powers. The gods have no desire to lose their followers and they have to be inventive to protect the Earth from other forces. Even the ill-intentioned ones, like Baron Kriminel, Loki or Hades need mortal permission to do real harm. (Un)fortunately their worshipers do exist and plot to this day. Atop this, there are often additional obligations and deals in place. After the Nazis co-opted the Norse pantheon's might in World War Two, Odin agreed to not interfere even directly in mortal affairs, in addition to the restrictions already upon him from the Pact. In game terms, it limits outsiders to roughly PL15 at maximum and requires very specific circumstances for PLX characters from other dimensions to appear in threads. Who it applies to: Gods, demons, their otherworldly servants, spirits, the Djinn and the Fairy Folk all rely on human say-so to be physically present in the mortal world. The realms of divine and quasi-divine entities are vast and confusing, and this list is not exhaustive. The Unspeakable One defies definition, but it too is constrained by the Pact and a need for cultists to summon its power forth. In game terms, any kind of other dimension whose inhabitants have a Magic, Divine or Infernal main theme and power descriptor is affected by the Pact. How to get around it: Gods that use spiritual possession, like the Loa of Voodoo, can simply transfer their power to a willing mortal recipient. Certain artifacts, like the Ankh of Horus, can be used as conduits of otherworldly might that bring not just the power of the entity but their consciousness as well. Mortal supplicants can perform rituals or make prayers that, if explicitly enabling the named being to enter their world, opens the way for that specific being or group of beings. Portals, dimensional conjunctions and explosions of energy that tear down the barrier between worlds are also known exceptions. But these are rare, often dangerous, hard to replicate and even if successful can have adverse side-effects. The beings can choose to leave most of their power in their home dimension. This both poses no risk when colliding with the Pact's barrier and makes the resulting intruder easier to negotiate with or defend against. A recent example is Sekhmet the Lady of Slaughter. Finally, the children of otherworldly beings pose a unique challenge to the Pact: they have access to great power, and some can even become gods themselves, but are usually mortals or else very like them. Most often these children remain either on Earth or in their non-human parent's home dimension. In game terms, you can't be a god, but you can have their powers, their attitude and be related to them. The Pact on other worlds: Some Earths never had a Simon Magus, the conditions under which the Pact was created, or it was undone by another Master Mage or a corrupted Dark Lord who wished to commune more easily with their otherworldly allies. In these cases a god can manifest physically and at full power. But if they wish to travel to an Earth that is protected by the Pact, then they must gain permission to do so. In game terms, you can play otherworldly-focused characters from other universes, but the rules of the Pact still apply so long as you're in Earth-Prime.

Arrowhawk tilted her head to one side, frowning at the Nose. Unlike the man in the metal mask, his sob story seemed a little more plausible. And she would be much less able to find them without aid. Her ears were ringing a little. And she was starting to really feel the pain now she'd stopped moving and the adrenaline was draining. She took a step back, boot crunching on glass as she left the confined cabin of the truck. "I can promise not to strike you. I can make no promise on anything else, Nose. I'm sorry." Her voice was quiet, and less harsh. "But I think you know something about bad men thinking it's alright to hurt those they see as lesser. Am I wrong?"

SWIFTED AS A COURSING RIVER by HGM Edits to Arrowhawk II +2 Constitution [2PP] Increase saves: Fortitude +1 [1PP], to Fortitude: +9 (+5 Con, +4) Increase skills: 16 ranks = 4PP Acrobatics +2 ranks, Knowledge (Arcane Lore) +4 ranks, Knowledge (Streetwise) +4 ranks, Notice +1 rank, Sense Motive +5 ranks New scores: Acrobatics 2 (+6) Knowledge (Arcane Lore) 4 (+5) Knowledge (Streetwise) 4 (+5) Notice 9 (+10) Sense Motive 9 (+10) Edit to her Arrowhawk costume device [net 0PP change] Device 1 (5PP Container, Flaws: Hard to Lose [-1]) [4PP] (Arrowhawk Costume) Protection 3 (Feats: Second Chance [Toughness save vs bullet damage], Second Chance [Toughness save vs piercing damage]) [5PP] (armour)

Arrowhawk looked at the man coolly. If he stabbed her, she was in no shape to keep standing, wounded badly enough as she was. But then... if he stabbed her. She was clearly a much better fighter than he. But... he could get her to the woman. And if she could get to the homeless woman, she could hopefully get her to safety, and take down the Nose as an afterthought. "The woman you're chasing. I need to get to her. Tell me where she is," Osla said levelly.

Good point, I forgot about that! Hit him in the Nose: 1d20+10 11 She misses anyway, so it's moot

Flying? This is falling with style!: 1d20+8 23 Try her. So, move action: Move into the cab. Standard action: Same as before, the mercs can't stop her melee attacks with Takedown Attack. So it's just her and the Nose.

Time seemed to slow as the truck suddenly crashed. Despite the precarious situation, Arrowhawk found herself thinking how on Earth people on Midgard functioned with so little control over their vehicles. If she rode like this she'd fall off the horse every few minutes. As the truck tipped on its side, Arrowhawk let herself get thrown, pushing lightly into a jump, flipping around in mid-air. She landed with her hand on the cab's door handle, clinging to it for dear life as the vehicle grinded to a stop... at which point she flung herself through the window, glass shattering around her. She drove her knee into the driver's chest before smacking him in the face with an open palm, and drove her bow into the throat of the other mercenary, leaving her alone with the man with the distasteful nose. "This ends," she snarled at him.

Arrowhawk smirked as the men in the truck began to panic. Good. Bullies always panicked when a fight happened, because a fight meant they could lose. They'd come out tonight looking simply to beat someone, not fight them. She pushed off the knife, leaving it embedded in the pick-up, as she swung Orheidr round. It clipped one of the two men in the back of the head, yanking him downwards to meet her rising foot. He slammed backwards into a heap against the back of the cab. Her hand reached out and grabbed at the other man's head, squeezing a little. He let out a cry of pain as Arrowhawk vaulted, pushing down on the man as she slid into the roof of the cab, roughly throwing him to collide with the pick-up's bed.

Get onto the roof: 1d20+4 23

Osla is just going to beat the hell out of as many of them with her fists as she can. Extended Reach Strike 2, taking 10, and not using trade-offs is 20 to hit, and DC23 Toughness rolls. Move action, get up onto the top of the pick-up cab.

The truck was just ahead of her, picking up speed even as she did. Arrowhawk's feet hurt, her thighs burning, a painful stabbing sensation in one lung. But she had them. She knew she had them. Arrowhawk lunged forward, leaping into the air and onto the back of the pick-up. She landed in a crouch, driving the knife into the bed of the pick-up, an almighty screech of metal filling the air as she slid backwards several inches before the knife finally held.

Catch the pigeon, catch the pigeon: 1d20+4 24 Praise be unto our Lord and Savior, Captain Sara Lance Arrownitiative: 1d20+8 15

"Get indoors," said Arrowhawk curtly, not bothering to respond to anything the woman had said. She didn't have the time for niceties. Instead she turned to face the direction the woman had pointed, gritting her teeth. She tightened her grip on her weapons, the handle of the knife creaking from the pressure applied to it. She broke into a sprint, the enchantment of Sleipnir spurring her on, accelerating to a quick run, then to a faster run, then to a speed akin to a racehorse moving all-out. And, as her cape moved up to be perpendicular with the ground, she sped on faster than that.

Arrowhawk wheeled on the woman, holding her arm over her stomach. The Nose. He was on the move. She resisted the urge to grab the woman and demand to know where they'd gone, clenching her teeth. She took a couple of slow breaths to steady herself, every heartbeat a moment she didn't have. "What direction? How many? Weapons?" she gasped out. Arrowhawk's voice was coming in ragged gasps, out of breath. She was visibly only kept standing by will and rage.

Intimidate: 1d20+10 14 Man, unless she gets a circumstance bonus, clearly looking like she's been run over isn't a boon to her Intimidate

Arrowhawk slowed her pace, torn between the car screeching into the distance and the woman clearly at great risk of being assaulted. She stopped, bloody knife in one hand, longbow in the other. Her armour was in tatters, blood oozing out of it, what little of her face was visible smeared in blood and grime. They probably wouldn't kill that woman, just steal her belongings... but that kind of cold maths was beyond her. She paused for breath in front of the woman, fixing her eyes on the two street toughs. "Try... it..." she forced out, voice coming out ragged and pained.

Notice check to find these goddamn guys: 1d20+9 14 The dice hate me.

Arrowhawk bent low, snatching up the man's vicious knife in one hand. She didn't know where her axe was. Somewhere behind her, she guessed. It didn't matter now. She had to keep moving. There were too many time limits in play, how long before they found and killed that poor woman, how long before the police got here and complicated things, how long before she passed out from blood loss. She forced herself into a run, sprinting in the rough direction she thought the hunters had gone. Everything hurt, so she tried to block it out, forcing herself to look into the night, to hear the sounds of the city, desperate for something, anything...

Arrowhawk rolled her eyes, one hand clutching at her stomach. She was in so much pain. "Follow through with your threats or not at all. I would be delighted to see how you leverage politicians and judges against an illegal vigilante, how you leverage accountants against a woman who is legally a dead child. How you leverage the mafia against the Arrowhawk." She crossed the space between them in a blur, moving like smoky lightning through the night air, despite her labored breathing and visible injuries. "It hardly seems a threat at-" Osla pinched at the brow of her nose and let out a weary sigh. "Oh, there is just too much pain to banter tonight." She pivoted smartly on one heel and whipped him around the head with Orheidr again.

Move Action: Cross the distance Standard Action: Smack him with the bow again: 1d20+10 24 That's unmodified, so it's just DC23 Toughness.

Arrowhawk staggered back, her armour in ribbons, her torso in even worse shape underneath it. Even through the bravado and the battlelust, she desperately wanted to go home. She wished her father was here. He'd be able to stop this guy, surely. Then they could get pizza, perhaps see that movie with the American fleeing the German prison camp on a motorcycle. She'd liked that one. She shook her head, and forced out a laugh, the action sending shooting pain through her ribs. "Two bullets. An axe. Three knife wounds. And I am not dead." She locked eyes on Metal Head, aware she just looked pale and queasy, her chin wet with what she hoped was blood. Saliva was less dignified. She spat on the ground. Yep. Definitely blood. "I thought you were going to kill me?" Summoning the last of her strength, Osla lunged forward, leaping into the air. She twisted as she did so, her bow held like a baseball bat, before bringing it around with a resounding clang against Metal Head's metal mask.

DC19 Toughness save: 1d20+3 15 She's up to 6 injuries, but our girl's still going. She's going to just straight-up Charge this dude and All-Out Attack for 2, and Power Attack for 2. That's a net -4 Defence, +2 Attack, and +2 DC when she uses the Strike on Orheidr. That's Defence 18, Attack +12, DC25. I choose to invoke the holy Sara Lance for this roll: 1d20+12 24 Suck on that, buddy.

Arrowhawk managed to block several of the unexpected blows, fists and blades clanging off her forearms and gauntlets. Eventually, she felt her guard get slipped past and... she staggered, one hand onto the masonry, letting forth a primal bellow of pain. The serrated edge of the knife drove into the small of her back, and it was all she could do to keep standing at this point, knuckles turning white as she clung desperately to her bow. "If they kill that girl..." she forced out through gritted teeth. Osla could taste blood. She'd bitten down on the tip of her tongue. "I will hunt you to the end of the Earth."

How many knife holes does one woman need?: 1d20+4 8 ... oh come on. SERIOUSLY DICE: 1d20+4 6 + 10 = 16 Osla is now bruised x5, injured x5, and dazed.