Avenger Assembled

Sea Devil led the way, the green joints of her armor glowing as she disappeared into the darkness below. The truth was that while her armor did tell her things, she had long since learned to ignore most of it - and had actually enlisted Jessie's help to paint over or otherwise seal off some of it. After all, her armor had been created by enemies of the Star Knights, unknown criminals who sought to bring war and violence to the Sea of Stars, painting the beautiful blackness of the sky with the blood of sentients. Such a thought wasn't necessarily frightening - but these were criminals, not agents of the Gods Below! So she'd learned to ignore her armor's lies, and instead to sharpen her own senses. To one who listened to the songs of between the worlds and heard the voices of those Beyond, it was no matter to find what was lost, to uncover hidden secrets, or to find those who hid. Closing her eyes as she flew, she sang out loud in a soft voice - which sounded distinctly like the barking of a large crocodile to most of those who heard her.

All right, let's get on this - I can certainly poke at it if needed.

All right, I think we need an IC post from @Electra - Giz, did you want to shake the dazed or post a reaction to the hit, or should I move down the initiative to Red?

Leviathan saw the blow strike home - and felt aquatic-adapted flesh bruise beneath his fists. But his blow caused a flare of eldritch energy along Ikatere's body, a miniature version of the golden sign on which they fought acting like a force field to deflect the blow. "Foolish Surface-Man," hissed Ikatere in what Leviathan recognized as heavily accented English. "Do you think your blows can hurt a champion of the Gods Below? I have been marked with their sign!" Naia and Sea Devil squared off again, a fight that for the moment (despite the latter's armor) appeared to be evenly matched - as Leviathan watched, the former's metal trident scraped against the latter's electrical one as their blades locked together; a shower of steam and bubbles coming from where the two were locked in combat but nothing more dramatic than that. Their Lemurian was coming a little too fast for Leviathan's translator but what he could make out sounded like scatological curses from both Deep One females - there was far more profanity in the ancient tongues of the deep than anyone on the Surface might have guessed. Of course, there were other profanities. "You've hurt me, but not bled me yet," hissed Ikatere. "When this is done," hissed the Keeper, "we will see who bleeds! We will not cower before the light of the Surface. Let the Light you love so well be your undoing!" And then came another blast from his trident - this one that struck Leviathan full in the face.

That does hit (the DC to hit him is 27) - and I'd already decided to make him a Glass Cannon. D'oh! Tou vs. 27: http://orokos.com/roll/571100 25! He is also bruised! Sea Devil: Attack vs. Naia: http://orokos.com/roll/571101 = 15! A miss. New round: Naia Attacks Sea Devil - 15! Another miss! http://orokos.com/roll/571107 Ikatare: Blasts Leviathan again - this one is a Dazzle effect http://orokos.com/roll/571105 = DC 22 Reflex save this round vs. a visual Dazzle, then a DC 22 Fort save next round

"Few are interested in my tongue," admitted An-Guis, said forked appendage flicking briefly. "My companions speak the common tongue, which I think rose from Grue and Lor when both had the Communion worrying at their backs, and everyone else in space does the same." He cocked his serpentine head towards the others, then asked, "Frankly, great one, do these others," he gestured to the mammalian hominids all around, "speak to you in your own tongue? Or do they prefer that the outlander adapt? It is the same all over," he pronounced. "My people rarely leave their world." - "We should have," admitted Pharos apologetically, "but some races take such messages as a sign of weakness - or the sign of a coming invasion. We thought it better to appear in your sky as friends, rather than as distant voices on the radio." He kept up his end of the conversation on the way back to Mayberry with Stesha, telling her how he'd come to join the Ochlocracy's expedition when recruited by Sancta, who was busy in an animated conversation about theology with Gabriel. "Truthfully, I saw an opportunity to leave behind my homeworld, and I took it. New Etrigan is a beautiful place, full of beautiful people that treat each other with nothing but compassion and respect, through ancient systems of courtesy and politeness....and one can only guard perfection for so long before it honestly grows rather tiresome," he admitted, a wry smile on his rugged features. "I have not had your luck; to plant such deep roots." - Petra carried on an intensive and fairly technical conversation with Tarrant all the way back to Mayberry, sharing some of her personal experiences with tectonic exploration. She'd visited planets with a wide range of geological systems, ranging from artificial worlds of computronium and plastic, vast enough that sentients lived in the tunnels and holes carved by parasites as large as a city, to unformed masses of debris held together by artificial gravity, so that journeying from 'plate' to 'plate' meant actually crossing empty space heated only by the internal magma at the core of the planetary agglomeration. It was obvious she was a trained scientist and geologist, one who took Tarrant's own expertise as excuse not to hold back.

Ah, okay! Woodsman moves thirty feet or so, staying behind cover the whole way. Then he shoots Quarrel with a stinkbomb. http://orokos.com/roll/570539 Ugh, a disappointing roll. Let's try again with an HP. http://orokos.com/roll/570544 = 22 All right, that's a 22 now with the HP, which should hit if she's PL 10. That's a DC 21 Reflex save vs. being dazzled both visual and olfactory.

Hmm - doesn't Quarrel get an action in there?

"The breaking glass earned Matt laughter. "Good! Very good, young psychopomp. Break the bonds I give you, even as you break all others. But be wary - you might not like what you find!" Suddenly a door opened in the cell behind Matt, one of the panels sliding away entirely. Through the newly-created opening, which led into a sterile, brightly-lit tunnel lined with the same panels as his cell, he could hear things - distant screams and babbling voices in too many languages to make out, unholy growling and chewing. "I give you a riddle. There is a door. A door to murder - and a door to safety. One has been opened; one can be opened. What do you do?" --------------- "I'm afraid he's no longer your colleague. If you want to see him again, you need to give me something better than this." A faint electronic click as the signal was cut. Across the hall, Winifred's counterpart abruptly stopped laughing - and began slamming its fists against the glass and calling her name, its shouts growing in definition and dropping in pitch, until the last bellow was a good octave lower than Fred could have shouted comfortably. Winifred! Winifred! WINIFRED! It stared balefully at Fred - then turned and began moving back to the seat on the far side of the cell. Watching closely, Winifred could see that her other 'self' wasn't moving of its own accord. The metal and plastic driven into inhuman flesh was moving her like a puppet with no strings, pulling her first backwards into the cell, then down into her seat. Fred herself would have transformed under that kind of stress - but perhaps the largest of the flexible spines, the one driven directly into the back of the other Fred's skull, had something to do with that. The infant in her cell wailed still - and her equipment awaited.

"Nor should they be," Keith replied evenly. "Not safe for 'em." He moved quickly, almost in haste, to pour the tea for the two young women - then took a seat again at the table. "Not safe fer the likes of us, either. Phaedra, I'm here to tell ya that yer in grave danger. Things 'r about to get a whole lot worse around her for people like you and, uh, what was your name again, honey?" he said apologetically to Frostbyte. "Didn't quite catch it." Turning back to Phaedra, he went on, "I know you ain't welcome back home thanks to the powers-that-be, but there are some places you'd like a lot better than this. I know this realm over by the Yama boys where there are these hot little Yakshini numbers lookin' to take a walk on the wildside. Get you some of that for a hundred years or so, come back here when it's safer."

Here it is

Across the gulf of time and distance, Peyton and Riley stared at each other before the former put her good hand to her mouth, eyes wide and brimming with tears. "...RILEY!" she called out and ran for her son, throwing her arm around him and hugging him tight, Riley's arms going around her by reflex as she pressed her forehead against his. They were of comparable height and build up close; with her shorter hair and muscular build, it was much easier to see how this Peyton was related to Riley. "Oh my God, look at you - look at you, my boy, you're a man now..." She ran her hand down his face and the fuzz of dark whiskers along his chin and cheeks. "Oh, my god..." Riley stared at Peyton, murmuring back, and for all that had happened, and for all that would come later, they held each other, weeping, the rest of this world forgotten. "Mom, what happened?" Riley finally asked when they pulled back, the shock of her missing arm burned into his memory. "Your...your arm..." "A lot happened since you left," said Peyton quietly, only Merlin's hastily rigged-up connections to Riley's mic letting Robin hear what was going on below. "Things got bad for a while. But now my boy has come back to me from the grave, and none of that matters." She turned her head and called across the room. "Woundmaker, you have yourself a deal! I'll make it happen!" "A deal? What?" Meanwhile, across the room, another reunion was taking place. "...Raina!?" Raina's mother looked no less surprised to see her daughter - though she did shoot a look at her husband, whose grin was somewhere between self-satisfied and delighted. "Fate-binding?" he said cheerfully, earning a sigh that brought a look Raina herself had seen in the mirror. "Fate-binding," her mother replied, before guiding her descent. "Don't land in the ash patterns, dear" she said carefully, the hellish red light of the still-open portal casting an odd glow on her features. "There's too much life bound up in it! Come here, come to your mother!" She hugged Raina as the latter touched down, perhaps a bit more physically affectionate than Raina was used to - but nothing that was out of character, given how long it had been since they'd actually touched. "Oh, thank all the spirits! I can't believe you found us so fast!" "I don't recall you mentioning that your daughter _and_ her friend would be showing up," the man in black commented to Raina's father, sounding more amused than annoyed. Evidently he was the titular Woundmaker, barking orders at the troops in the warehouse who had leveled weapons in the direction of Riley and Raina for just a moment. "Secure the scene! Make sure they weren't followed." "And we won't even raise our fee for the free addition of a third caster," replied Eric Sanderson, pushing back his robe's hood, also looking pleased. "Come on, W.M., celebrate! We opened your portal, regained our third soul, and we brought you the boy you wanted!" He patted the man in black on the back before going over to join his family. "Look at you, my baby girl! I told your mother you'd find us the first chance you got, and I was right!" he hugged Raina, then added more seriously, "You and your friend, how did you get away?"

Woodsman squeezed off a shot past Quarrel's head, a faint curse echoing inside his head. He'd gone for the dramatic shot to end the fight quickly, only to miss critically. From his position he couldn't tell if he'd actually hit her, but he'd certainly done no more than scratch her along the side of her neck. Knows where I am. Oh well - maybe it would keep her from joining in the fight that was going badly for Facsimile. And it would make her cocky. He could use that. She's pretty cocky as it is. He dropped down behind the cover of one of the rooftop's airvents and began the quick process of reloading.

Woodsman shoots Quarrel in the back. http://orokos.com/roll/569351 = 25 I believe that hits, given that she's flat-footed. AP: Blast 6 (poison, Extra: Linked [Drain], Flaw: Unreliable [5 Uses/Day], Feats: Improved Crit 2, Incurable, Variable Descriptor 1 [Chemical]) + Drain Dexterity 6 (Extras: Linked [Drain], Secondary Effect, Flaw: Unreliable [5 uses/daily]) {10 + 6 =16/16} DC 26 Toughness save, DC 21 Fortitude save there. She makes the same DC 21 Fort save next round, I believe, given the Secondary Effect.

From "The Th'emme Years" by Terbor Orac, Imperial Year 278 "It was a deal that would have fundamental repercussions across the Galaxy - and beyond. Imperator Th'emme's electoral victory was among the narrowest in the history of the Lor Republic - as well it might be, given the chaos that had marked the demise of her predecessor and the subsequent near-collapse of the Republic. With her famous grasp of realpolitik, she recognized that claiming the throne without finding a place for her former rival would only shatter the fragile bonds that she had worked so hard to build during her election. Would an investigation into the Coreward worlds show an electorate truly united behind galactic peace - or would it show corrupt local governors currying favor with the civilian they feared less than the soldier? If it came to a real struggle, would the military and law enforcement side with the Senator they had fought with (legitimate winner or nor) or the leader whose friends and allies ran through the ranks of the uniformed hierarchy of the Republic? These questions are impossible to answer with the remove of nearly three centuries and the degradation of even quantum records of those days - they could have been no easier in the moment, in the midst of her enemies and in the wake of a recent assassination attempt by the Light of Truth. So in private conversation in the aftermath of the attack, in the moments when the holocams were off and the rescuers were cleaning up the debris, the Grand Bargain was struck, peace between the worlds and peace between the two factions, as the Grand Nauarchus bowed her head and submitted her resignation to the Imperator of the Republic. It was a grand moment for the mundane setting of a tavern-cum-business establishment in the Coalition Victory Station - and one that would immediately be recognized as a key moment in Galactic history. "No, Grand Nauarchus, your service to the Republic has been too valuable. I won't waste sixty years of service because you happened to lose an election. Because you dared to be - a patriot." And so Bucklin Frankan assumed the place that she had truthfully coveted in the old days of the Republic - Minister of Defense in the first Imperial Cabinet. Layers of civilian bureaucracies would shield her from thet troops so loyal to her, and time spent serving the Imperator would unite the legacies of the two women on behalf of their people. Or so it was hoped. Did Th'emme know then the peace she brought would come at a cost - the Uplift Crisis and the Praetorian War, the Great Secession and the Grue Unification? As ever, with this most opaque of politicians, her thoughts are hard for us to find - but we do know that it was she who coined that once-famous phrase from early in her reign. "'Only Frankan could go to Terra.'"

That hits! That'll give it an injured. Go ahead and post!

"Poor boy. You still think something is listening." Deathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeath-a city?-deathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeath-a nation?-deathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeathdeath-A world? "Men die. Realms fall. Gods perish. The purity of death claims all. You bathe in holiness, child, and I would see you know its smell. Do you feel the death around you? This is a single day!" The voice above was laughing, half not-believing its own words. "A single day, in a single place. Oh, you're going to love it there. For twenty years they've bathed in murder and it sticks to their very skins. Will your dogs still love you through the stink of it?" --- "There's my girl," came the sound of amused pleasure from above. "Just remember, no one is coming to save you. Everyone knows what the Alkahest did last night. And if you fail me, that infant isn't a trap for the Alkahest. It's her dinner." Winifred? Looking out the glass revealed that the other Winifred was awake. And smiling. It pressed two bloodied hands flat against the glass, then its face, looking for all the world like a child peering through a candy store window. Rheumy yellow eyes fixed themselves directly on Reagent as it drummed fingers on the glass, one after the other, then faster, loud enough to get her attention. Winifred. It traced a finger down the glass, slowly, leaving a faint trail of gore - and suddenly threw back its head and laughed and laughed, whole body shaking with mirth, a hysterical childish Hee hee hee!

Merlin took this opportunity to share with Sparkler that he'd found the mind control devices - they'd been moved against the far wall near the warehouse's loading dock. Evidently they were going to be moved soon, though he still hadn't found their destination yet. Sparkler's magical gestures had already caught the attention of those below - the Sandersons were looking up, shading their eyes against the darkness above with looks of mixed shock and recognition. "Raina?" called her mother, something like dawning hope in her voice. Evidently not understanding the situation, the Peyton Smith of Riley's homeworld looked around with concern on her dark features, hand automatically going to the gun she wore at her hip. As the man at her side automatically took a protective stance, the guards around them readying but not actually aiming their guns. Woodsman looked down, then up at Nighthawk. "I love you," Riley whispered to Robin, gazing into her eyes with tears in his own. "If this _is_ an illusion, you get them," he said before crawling forward, enough that eyes on him wouldn't be eyes on Raina or Robin. "Friendly!" he called with a wave down below. "Friendly!" And with that, he hooked the line on his belt to the balcony, and jumped.

Yup. Everybody's crazy - it's a crazy day. From his perch on a nearby rooftop, having brazenly taken up the same position that Quarrel had recently vacated, Woodsman cooly loaded his crossbow. OK, figure Facsimile's got powers - he can take care of the ladies for a second. Consideringly, he took aim at his bow-wielding counterpart, carefully lining up his shot at the small of her back. He didn't know what powers Dawnfire had (outside of what he could guess from the name and what she'd demonstrated) but typically people with bows and arrows and other gadgets were just people. People that if you shot them in the back with a bomb, or poison, or just a really sharp point right in the vitals, tended not to like it very much. Honestly seen crazier stuff than this.

Woodsman: Woodsman is going to take the full-round action to aim at Quarrel, guessing that his colleague can keep the two ladies busy for a round.

http://orokos.com/roll/568454 = 27

Avenger had crossed the house by the time the echoes died - and for a moment found himself standing there with absolutely nothing to do, nothing to think, other than mortal dread and loss. He could smell the empty room, the empty house, and knew by now the faint aftereffects of magical travel and how utterly helpless he was to do anything about it. This was an enemy he couldn't fight, couldn't fix, couldn't buy off or intimidate. But the great thing about the life he'd built for himself in the past decade was that he didn't _have_ to do any of those things - he had friends who could. Standing there in the middle of his wife's lair (as he so often thought of it), he slowly and carefully took his brand-new phone from his pocket and sent the wordless "Emergency - Come Here!" signal to the two people he knew and trusted the most to deal with magical threats like whatever had made his son disappeare. Comrade Frost - and his son.

Naia moved, fast and agile in the water, after her mother. Using her trident to keep her distance from Sea Devil's armored grip, she thrust at Aquaria, the trident's sharp prongs glancing off Aquaria's Spectrum Knight armor. She growled and hissed, stamping her feet against the muck as they fought, sending up a cloud of silt that partially obscured them from Leviathan's view. He could hear them, though, their moving bodies partially illuminated by the green glow that came from the joints of Aquaria's armor. "Run-tun-tun! You hide behind your space armor, female?" "Brek-ek-ek-ek-coax-coax! I fight with every advantage!" Aquaria croaked in defiant return, striking the ground with her lower limbs too. "So that all might survive!" Leviathan had his own problems to deal with, though - Ikatare was sketching in the water with his trident, marking a golden sign that sizzled with arcane power, the water around it literally boiling. "Great Carcosa! Give us the Eye That Burns!" Sure enough an eruption of brilliant yellow light erupted from his trident and struck Leviathan in the mid-section, burning hot enough that he felt even his super-tough flesh sizzle - but only sizzle.

It does! Okay, Leviathan is up, then Sea Devil.

Woodsman uses his extremely high ranks of Stealth and Hide in Plain Sight to disappear during this conversation, moving to take up a position to the rear of the two ladies. (i.e., you guys go ahead and continue the conversation)