Ecalsneerg

Restrain him!: 1d20+17 20

The axe slammed into Arrowhawk's shoulder, cutting deeply. She glanced at it and casually pulled it out, dropping it to the ground as she continued her advance. "And if you said the sky was green, you could mean what you said, but also be utterly, utterly wrong. Where are your women mercenaries? Judges and bankers have daughters too." She walked into striking range of Metal Head and contemptuous. She lashed out with her knee, aiming not to injure but to force the man off-balance, knocking him back a little before driving her bow into his clavicle with one hand. "Perhaps the woman you call a parasite, perhaps she was beaten. Or burned." Arrowhawk leaned in, directing the strength of the jormungandr to drive the man to the floor. "That is why I do not need to know you. You think other's hardships make them lesser but make you something more. And even when it is pointed out you call people foolish for merely seeing what a fool cannot see for himself." Her teeth were gritted, spit forming at the corners of her mouth, eyes open in an unstaring rictus as she added her own strength to the already overpowering force pushing down on the villain's neck.

Who needs an axe: 1d20+5 11. Who needs a second Hero Point? Reroll! Resist axe: 1d20+5 23 Other than being up to 4 bruises and injuries, we good, we good. She finishes her move action up to him, and moves to grapple. She'll all-out attack for 2 to make sure it hits, which it does, Grab him!: 1d20+12 27 and Shove him to the floor: 1d20+17 35 Stitch that, mate.

Arrowhawk laughed, a hearty peal of genuine mirth. "Oh. Oh, how very droll. You see, I grew up among men like you. Men who thought their prowess made them somehow better. Somehow more valuable. That they somehow mattered more, simply by tearing down others of other circumstance." She reached to her belt, hefting her bow in her right hand, and took one deliberate step forwards, moving slowly and with a surety of purpose. "Peddle your flimsy rationale to your clientele. I can spot a cur motivated by greed and egotism anywhere. Don't mistake that for contribution." She let out another laugh, this one more bitter, more dripping with acid.

Arrowhawk tried to keep a hold of the axe, but her grip faltered, the haft slipping between her fingers as she ducked backwards to evade any retaliatory strike. A flicker of annoyance crossed her features and she circled around to the left, bringing her fists up into a boxing stance. She weaved forward, striking towards the man's shoulder, but her punch was blocked on the haft of her own axe. Osla bobbed backwards, hoping she wouldn't have cause to break her own weapon. It was hard sourcing axes these days. "You seem like a competent warrior," Arrowhawk said with begrudging respect. "You could bring honour to yourself were these much less vile circumstances."

Resist disarm: 1d20+6 22 Oh well, she drops it. Standard Action: Punch him in the face because seriously who cares about the axe. Accurate Attack for 2. Punch to the face: 1d20+12 15 NOOOOPE. She doesn't use her move because if she stays in melee she is harder to shoot with bullets.

He moved alarmingly quickly, managing to lunge in just as Osla brought the axe down, letting out a yell of pain as the knife drove into the existing wound in her side, spiking in through the hole in her armour. Spurred on, she slammed the haft of the axe down with immense force onto his shoulder, letting the impact reverberate through the man's body before spinning away, rotating the axe in a circle. "Finally, one of you with any backbone," Arrowhawk snarled, keeping close, knowing if she moved out of melee range then the man's supporters would be very able to shoot her up. As it was, he'd make a convenient shield against anything they'd try.

DC 21 Toughness save: 1d20+6 14 Ouch, so she's Bruised x3, Injured x3, and Dazed. She blows a HP to clear the Daze, bringing her down to 2 HP, and hits the guy with an axe: AXE ATTACK: 1d20+10 23 That is a DC23 Toughness save Her move action, she tries to Intimidate (demoralise) him as a move action, probably ineffectively, but eh. Raaar: 1d20+5 6

Initiative roll: 1d20+8 17

Osla Readies an Attack action in response to Metal Head attacking her with the knife.

Arrowhawk kept her mouth shut. This man could see her, somehow. She didn't know how, and didn't know why. Maybe he had the same technology on that metal head that the mercenary had in his eyes. Maybe it was something else. Practically speaking, it didn't matter. But only he seemed to be able to, and she could use that. Shaking her head and letting a warrior's grin cross her face, she slid the axe down her hand, gripping it tightly near the base of the haft so she could achieve more momentum on the downswing. She slowly brought it up, raising it into the air just above her right shoulder, making no effort to conceal the motion.

Snekky snek: 1d20+15 23 Sense Motive: 1d20+5 17

Arrowhawk immediately slipped back into the shadows, cloaking herself from sight and smell. Especially smell. The mercenary hadn't been lying. There was something unnatural there. Metahumanity being hired out for bloodsports? Was there nothing the wealthy Midgarders couldn't pervert? But they were going to soon discover they weren't able to get far. She kept crouched and quiet, holding her axe still and ready, trying to ignore the pain in her side and shoulder. There were a lot of men here. She wasn't sure a frontal attack would work.

Arrowhawk slid out of the truck, a hand sliding behind her back and under her cape. It came out holding a wooden-hafted axe, gripping it in the middle of the haft. Slowly, making sure she was unnoticed, she hacked it into the rear tyre of the truck, and then moving forward, into one of the front ones. She kept low, moving slowly and silently, ducking in and out of shadows, to give the same treatment to the other trucks. She was grossly outnumbered, and didn't know if the man in the metal mask was a mere mortal or not. She suspected this may not be the case. Normal people didn't have heads like that. Or if it wasn't his head, normal people didn't wear masks like that. Keeping one eye watching him warily, she cut into another tyre, and moved on to the next.

Stealth. Stealth. More stealth.: 1d20+15 29

Arrowhawk seized the opportunity. She waited until the men had got into their vehicle before sliding into the back of the pick-up, gingerly avoiding sitting on the sniper she'd previously knocked out. One hand clutched her bow closely to her, wanting to avoid it clacking off the metal of the truck. Even invisible, she wasn't inaudible. The other gripped on tightly, knowing she wouldn't get an opportunity like this, to perhaps see where the base of operations was. Assuming, of course, the base was where they took their injured. She sat tight, watching and listening keenly, almost motionless. She had all night to wait this out.

https://orokos.com/roll/607104 Woo, 32!

Sneaky sneaky: 1d20+15 17; also use Concealment to hide from normal vision and all olfactory senses.

Arrowhawk decided to get a closer look. Two men were unlikely to arrive in two vehicles, given the previous team had been working as a three. And in any case, her shoulder was still aching from the bullet wound in it. She pulled her cloak around her, fading into the night as she crept forward, taking care not to make a sound, edging up behind the two men to inspect their armament, and to inspect any potential backup. She daren't breathe, lest she end up in another one-sided fight.

Survival check: 1d20+10 22

Arrowhawk cocked her head, an eyebrow raised. "Help you? You just revealed your identity to me. Your mercenary shot me, and it didn't prevent me chasing down your vehicle on foot. I am not one of the police. I know what crimes his son has committed. He has no influence over me." She bent over to get closer to the prone man. "How exactly will be help you, I wonder?" Satisfied that he wasn't going to go anywhere, she began to stride off towards the cab of the truck that the vehicle had collided with. "An ambulance and the authorities. Call them," she instructed the driver.

Galvanic was reclined back in her chair, slumped backwards from the console, looking mildly bored. She was a Praetorian, but had never had much stock for a formal chain of command and procedure. Besides, she didn't like to touch the controls too much. If startled she could potentially blow our the circuitry. Every so often she'd flick her eyes down, taking in the data and readings with a trained but disinterested eye, before resuming being bored. "Sensors clearempty," she said to Magnetar, sweeping her eyes over them for what seemed like the five hundredth time. She fiddled with some buttons and dials, double checking, but still coming up with nothing. "Been too many sols since eventsanything happened."

Arrowhawk sneered down at the man. She was going to phone for help anyway, but there was no sense throwing away perfectly good leads. "What judge?" she asked with cold indifference layering her voice. It'd be good to know what judge would be happy to know what his son was up to. Especially if it would act as leverage to get him to actively do his role properly. A corrupt judicial system was a constant thorn in her side.

Arrowhawk shook her head in contempt. "You really had this all planned out. A nice little arrangement. Low men wanting to hunt for sport, but not wanting to actually get a battle from it. So dishonorable." She stood up, callously letting the man's head drop, rapping off the cement for a moment. "How do I find them?" she asked, eyes scanning the distance, only half paying attention to the defeated man sniveling on the floor.

"Hmm." Chris looked pensive, biting into the apple and chewing obnoxiously loudly as he thought over it. "I'm skeptical, but I see the argument." He looked at the two sincerely, hands spread wide. "Look, I can keep it fairly quiet, but I can't make promises on people figuring it out. Alex will find out. I'm sure of it." He leaned back against the wall beside the TV, having lapped the room a few times. "Plus I suppose there's some insurance in it protecting us from the current administration. What's the kid like, anyway?" He took another bite of the apple and kept talking with his mouth full. "She freaked out by all this? Can't have been an easy one for her."