Avenger Assembled

Knightfall's arrival brought a change to the warped version of Midnight Manor, though not an immediately sinister one. At her arrival, the white floor beneath her feet and Hematite's feet flared up with a bright, steady light that stood out from the surrounding white by its sheer opalescence - forming two pathways of light that led the way out of the room they were in and around a nearby corner. (Luckily, the magical seals that Hematite had detected showed no such sign of renewed activity) There was no sign of what lay around the corner if they followed the paths. After she'd had a few moments to collect herself and take in the new scenery, on the wall over the pathways another symbol had flared to life as it seemed to appear directly out of the wall - two red As, flashing silently on and off with an insistent glow that was obviously meant to be seen - after all, they were the only lights in the room that had any color!

"I'm Clock Queen, the fastest woman alive," said Clock Queen with great firmness, giving Cho a suspicious look that softened quickly into maternal softness. "Man, maybe one of those guys clocked you on the head...listen, honey, I like a little smashing of the pigs too, but South Africa's not like America." She looked around with a sour look on her face. "Their 'heroes' are a bunch of racist thugs who we wouldn't let into the Crime League on a good day, and they'll beat you down into the pavement if they see you walking around on the street. If we didn't have friends in their government, we wouldn't be anywhere near this two-bit operation." She was zipping around as she talked, as if even in the middle of maternal concern she couldn't hold still "At least let me take you back to the hotel and get you something to eat and a shower," she offered, extending a hand Cho's way. "Those flashes of light, were those your friends? Somebody's teleport get screwed up?" She smiled. "C'mon, we'll pick them up on the way. I'll introduce you to my boy." - "I've seen what the police do to coloured boys they pick up on the street," said the imam. "If you haven't killed anyone, or hurt a woman, then I will talk to them while you do what you need to do." He gave him a serious look. "But no fighting in my neighborhood, super or otherwise. Remember what the Christians say - a soft answer turneth away wrath." And with that, he headed outside to speak to the police, who met him on the lawn of his sanctuary. Errant could just pick out the words and watched as Abdul seemed to fall into a set 'character', greeting the police with 'sahib!' and smiling too broadly, like an ethnic stereotype made flesh. Just the thing to make racists happy. Just then, a voice broke into his head - a cheery, feminine one that he had never heard before. <Hello - I couldn't help but notice your psi-transmission. Don't worry; I'm on your side! Just tell me where you are, and someone can be out there to help you in a few minutes.>

The Money Clock Queen - Fast-Forward Somewhere in south Florida "Oh, jeez, Basil, that's gorgeous!" Anna Cline put a hand over her mouth, looking down inside the gold-and-diamond encrusted music box. "Whaddja do, put a whole jewelry store in there?" She looked across her coffee table at the Maestro, who shrugged, a smile playing across his lined face. "I like the clock...jeez, this really is something." Rather than a conventional dancer, the inside of the music box was a cunningly worked clock with a pearl base and obsidian hands that slowly ticked through the seconds while the tune played. She set the box down carefully, the wooden feet hardly making a sound as they settled on the surface of the coffee table. "The tune is my own arrangement of Fantasy in F Minor, a piece Mozart composed for an organ clock. Anyway, happy birthday, Anna," he said with a smile. His voice was deep and faintly British, and reminded Anna of Jonathan Harris, that actor from that old space show. "Or should I call you Clock Queen again? I heard about that little incident with the false Baron Samedi, where you and little Dickie teamed up with Set..." His hands moved as he spoke like the conductor he was, and though they were more lined and liver-spotted than the last time she'd seen him, she had to admit Basil looked pretty good for a man who was at least twenty years her senior. "Nah, nah," Anna said with a little laugh, leaning back as she put her hands on her bare knee. She'd come straight from the tennis courts and was still in her whites and sneakers, Freedom City cap set aside on the couch next to her and long hair spilling down her back. "Don't get me wrong, Basil, I do miss the game - but I spent twenty years in Blackstone last time I had a falling-out with the League. I missed a lot of good years with my boy and my grandkids, and I don't want to lose that again. Even for you and me, twenty years isn't something you just get back. Can I get you some tea?" She zipped over to the pot and flipped the switch, rapidly finding herself shifting from foot to foot. "Hope you still like darjeeling!" "Of course," said Basil comfortably. He leaned over and studied a picture on the coffee table - the Cline family, right down to that lost little Psion lamb, posed at the St. Louis arch. From what he'd seen of Anna's son and grandchildren, it had to be no more than two or three years old. "But those days are ancient history, Anna. August's biggest problem these days is..." He pursed his lips. "paying for his bran flakes with the proceeds from hooligans murdering each other, and Sebastian is, well..." He sighed indulgently, raising his hand to the heavens as if asking for mercy. "Sebastian. You know how it is with those inventor types. But now, with a real conductor for our little orchestra, we can finally do everything we once dreamed. There's always a place for you in my organization, Anna. You and your son." Anna laughed. "Oh, not likely. The clock ran out on my son's criminal career a long time ago. C'mooon..." She finally put a finger against the teapot, zipping through the brewing phase in an instant, and poured for Basil and herself so fast that she was back across the table before the sound had reached his ears. "At first I thought it was just that Psion girl. Can't blame her for wanting to get out of the life, I guess, but geez, did she have to pull him out so hard too?" She shook her head. "But he's really happy. He says he likes having a steady roof over his head, and he likes being there for the kids whenever they need him." She frowned at that, then admitted, "Admittedly, I wasn't the best mama in the world..." "Oh, well, I'm hardly in any position to complain there!" said Featherton with a rueful chuckle, and they both shared a laugh over the memories held in common. He had forgotten how likeable Anna was, and, if he was honest with himself, just as beautiful. "Are you sure I can't convince you to come away with me, just for a little while?" he asked her with his most charming smile. "We can find another costume for you if you like, and I can at least show you the new headquarters. There are some beautiful women in the new League, but they're all..." "Old enough to be your great-grandkid?" asked Anna with a playful wink, rather enjoying the attention from her old friend, even if she knew it wasn't going anywhere. Basil might have been fancy (for all that he'd never actually admitted it), but he knew how to treat a lady. Sometimes it had been very handy, in the old days, to have a man in her life whose only interest in her was in her company. "Quite," replied Featherton with a polite chuckle. "The women of a certain age are either cold, mad, or some combination of both. But with a virtuoso like you taking first chair in the new League, we could make some beautiful music together." He extended a hand, an open invitation, and after a moment's hesitation...Anna kept her hands firmly, albeit regretfully, on her lap. "Maybe if I didn't have a kid and grandkids out there," Anna admitted. "But they're building a life as heroes, and even if I don't agree with it, I'm not going to do something selfish that would jeopardize it." She hesitated a moment, then zipped up until she was standing directly over Basil Featherton, who was still seated on the couch. "And Basil Featherton, I see that look in your eye. There is to be no mind-controlling, no mental influencing, no crazy crescendos or savage symphonies! You stay out of my kid's head, and out of his wife and kids' heads too, all right?" "All right, all right," said Featherton equitably. "Let us enjoy our tea, and talk of more pleasant things." He sipped his tea and looked up at her. "Press the amethyst on the lid four times if you change your mind," he finished with a warm, friendly smile.

Roland was silent for a few moments, taking long, deep breaths as he tried to calm himself. When he could speak again, he focused on Erin. "And I struck with hasty, mortal intent at your sister. The fault was mine. If I would be your enemy for that, or hers, then let me be your enemy." His jaw tightened as he looked at Erin. "Whether done for good or for ill, the deed cannot be undone." - "No, nothing," said Cleary, who had discreetly returned while the heroes were occupied. "At least, none the conventional authorities were able to find." Like many regular citizens of Freedom City, he was evidently comfortable letting superpeople handle super problems. "It's such a tragedy; but perhaps now there'll be some resolution. I wonder, if he is from an alternate universe, if the French authorities would any better at finding his double." He relaxed. "The good news is, Jessie White is unpacking her bags and her suitemate is helping repaint her room."

Errant found himself sitting inside a building that was obviously a religious shrine, even if he didn't recognize the faith immediately. His host, who introduced himself as "Abdul Sultani, imam," sat him down on a simple wooden chair and brought him a glass of water. "You're lucky. Two years ago, I'd have had to send you back to work the pump, heh-heh-heh." Poverty in the outside world was something Errant had seen some of during his time at Claremont, but Abdul's shrine didn't look poor, just...empty of things Errant had come to expect from places outside of Earth-Prime. Outside, Errant could hear sirens, and Abdul sighed softly as he glanced out the window. Looking up, Errant could see a police car that had stopped outside, with "Capetown Police" on the side, and two officers stepping out. "Listen...what's your name, my son?" asked Abdul. "We may not see the Jet Patrol here much, but I know what it means when you show up here in a costume and with flashes of light. You with those Yanks down in the city?" It was a serious question. - The mountainside proved to be steep and wet, slowing Thoughtspeed nearly to that of a speeding racecar. It was abundantly clear he was nowhere near Freedom City; there shouldn't have been any mountains this big closer than the Applachians - or maybe the Rockies! He was still able to get away from prying eyes, finding himself in a ravine labeled "Dark Gorge" that was free of hikers - for the moment, anyway. There were big rocks scattered among scrub bushes on the steep slope, enough that this was probably slow glowing for tourists. He could hear distant sirens from the direction he'd come, perhaps police cars that had come up an access road. He could hear the rush of a distant waterfall over the siren, and the noise of birds in the air; and see an unfamiliar animal like a big mountain goat munching contentedly on a nearby bush. - The officers went for their guns, but suddenly time slowed to a crawl as Cho felt something brush her arm. At first Cho thought it was just the effects of adrenaline, but then she realized things really had slowed down all around her. And she wasn't alone! Standing between the two officers was a tall, glamorous woman in what looked at first like Renaissance Faire garb; until Cho looked closer and saw the tight-fitting, modern spandex costume under the furred cape and the jewels - adorned with a gold-printed clockface set at 10 and 2. The golden circlet on her head, crowned with a ticking clock of its own, was adorned with shiny jewels that glittered in the sunlight; the swords she wore under her cape at her sides just visible. "Well, well, well," said her rescuer with a curious look, glancing around at the two officers. "It looks like pigs get wound up over a girl on her own wherever you go," she said before reaching down, taking the two officer's guns, and pointing them, moving their arms like posing animatronic dolls at each other's crotches. "Now, let's talk, shall we, honey? The clock is ticking." She smiled, practically bubbling with enthusiasm, and zipped around just out of arm's reach of Cho; a moment before her voice suddenly snapped back to an almost maternal concern. "Did those Dutch pigs take your mask? Bastards. I've got a spare if you need one." She reached into her pocket and produced a black domino mask. "It's my boy's, but he's about your size. What are you doing in Capetown, crashing the party?"

"I know well the finest mind in this world. Her genius could penetrate these lies like fire burning through ice. For myself, there is only the use of force, while who knows who suffers in return!" Caradoc punched the wall in frustration, the obsidian concrete that faced the wall crumbling like broken drywall beneath his armored fist, and exposing - a door? Sure enough, he peeled away another layer, this time with his fingers, and the heroes were faced with what was clearly a sealed metal door built right into the structure of the skyscraper. "There must have been some secret switch, or some cunning panel..." He picked up his pike and snapped open the blade, jamming it between the sealed hatch doors, and with a grunt of effort as bloody pain pulled against his ribs, slid the doors apart to reveal a closed elevator shaft opposite. He looked back at the others and said, "We cannot let normal men, even armed, enter the realm of an entropic cultist. We must go on."

"...aye, by the grace of God. Any guild has enemies, especially one with wealth and power, and ears in every fine court." said Roland, staring oddly at Trevor. "I guard their vaults and defend them against their enemies, as I have sworn to do on behalf of the blessed Saint himself and Mother Mary. I have not the craftsman's art myself, but I have had the blessings of St. Eligius since the accident with the blessed orrey ten years ago. I can run, and fight, and heal my own wounds. I have not the speed of your friend the circus freak, but I have speed enough for all that. But I am no saint, sir," he went on. "If you think to buy me with some guild now. The oaths I swore were for men now gone and in a place now lost to me."

The Space People returned early the next morning, appearing scattered through the camp around the time the sunlight reached the camp. An early riser since he'd become a father, Richard was up early to greet them. "Hello, visitors! Come in, make yourself at home; we're gonna have a totally radical day together!" Explaining that particular turn of phrase, something he was happy to do with great and elaborate enthusiasm that never actually broached the subject of what planet they originally hailed from, helped make sure nobody was taken by surprise by the new arrivals. Friendly aliens or not, they all had a job to do - even if that job had just gotten a whole lot bigger (since aliens, especially these aliens, was just as big a story as sentient dinosaurs.) When everyone was all together and had 'eaten their diurnal cooked meat and vegetable products', Irdonozur asked to make an announcements. "My friends," he said in that mechanical translator voice, "the homeworld weeps with joy at the news that we are not alone in the universe. All our hopes have been proven true by you, my friends." It was hard to tell if weeping was a translation artifact or not, given the way the Space People's voices (and faces) seemed to work. "After you have left this planet, we would invite you to our own. We can be there at great speed with gravitic drive, and you would be hailed as beacons of hope for the future." His snaky hair-tentacles waggled around his head excitedly at the thought.

All right, kids - how do you want to handle this?

"...never mind that!" replied the Psycho-Collective, and if an unholy abomination could sound embarrassed by Stronghold's question, that unholy chorus of a million voices did. Now that he had learned to dismiss the unpleasant image of Gina's face swarming with cybernetics, Caradoc was able to focus on the more immediate threat. "If you are a mighty threat, why did you warn us away before?" "...We are a mighty host of Periplaneta americana, our minds empowered by the very Element 38 and Element 77 you discarded!" shouted the psionic swarm, evidently completely blind to Somnium's illusion. "Insects outweigh humanoid biomass by a factor of billions! We are a serious threat to all humanity, and you will take us seriously!" The psionic abomination it had created loomed over the heroes, now taking the form of a single shifting mass of pinkish humanoid flesh with four heads that matched the illusory ones it had tried to frighten them with earlier. "Rarrr!" It waved tentacles at them menacingly and began to advance on them.

Damn. I do owe Trevor and Erin. Luckily, Mark's bad thought was short-lived, and within seconds he was smiling again. Hey, maybe I can get Nina to go with me to Tahiti after this. "Well, we'll be happy to get you back to Geneva," offered Mark, looking around the table for reactions. The gizmo was interesting, but it wasn't really his niche. His parents, old-fashioned sorts, hadn't raised him with a lot of technical know-how one way or another. He was lucky to know how to charge his iPhone some days. "Or whatever lab you want this taken to. We have some personal connections in Freedom City as far as super-oriented labs." He shifted in his seat, brain tumbling forwards like an avalanche. "Midnight, Wander, what do you think about this?" he asked his friends, who were usually able to surprise him by knowing something interesting.

Outside and inside, all was quiet with the destruction of the shadow demons. There was no sign of movement from where broken masonry and uprooted pipes had buried and battered the gigantic assassin that had come to murder the Hunter-White family, but enough bulked visibly underneath the mass hurled by Mystery that it was clear he hadn't escaped either. But the marks left by their passing certainly hadn't gone away; not the superficial damage done to the house where shelves and masonry had cracked and fallen, nor the more serious spiritual damage. With the destruction of the shadow demons, six greasy stains had been left on the face of reality itself, stains that seemed to be more like windows as they showed something hazy and indistinct beyond! The inside group could hazily make out Hematite as he explored a blurry space that was beyond their ability to make out; while the outside group could see the dark outlines of a blurry room lined with regular black rectangles.

Gargantua stopped in its, no, his struggles and stared balefully at Hologram, wrapping gnarled fingers around the bars of his cell. It was clear he understood her thoughts, and perhaps her words as well, and he had definitely lost all interest in Edge at this moment. <You are not the first who has been able to talk to me, woman,> he thought, hostility rough in his mental voice, hard armor grown over old pain like the scars that covered his body. <They have played the game of releasing me, then hunting me, before, and though I have repaid them for it in blood you might be doing the same thing! If you have come to let me out, open the lock!> He pointed with a gnarled, cracked finger to the lock that held him in. <Let me stand freely among you and then we will see what help it is that can be given.>

"I called you a bloody China doll, you stupid git," said the younger of the two officers, his accented voice hard as nails as he glared at her. "You know what? I don't give a damn about your papers. We're taking you down to the bloody station." He pulled out a big, heavy billy club - a heavy metal baton that looked nothing like the non-lethal instruments carried by Freedom City cops. (Come to think of it, these guys didn't seem to have belt radios either.) He advanced on Cho, the look on his face one of a man expecting trouble with gleeful anticipation. The other officer, a little older, was not friendlier as such, but a little more cautious. "Don't get your broekies in a knot, Hendrick. I think she's a Yank..." But his partner didn't look ready to back down. "Yank or not, it's against the bloody law to get drunk in the middle of the street! Not to mention blow up a bloody bomb. Bet she's one of those bloody Reds comes over and helps out the blacks. Come on, girl, get down and put up your hands!" He hit her with the club, and not gently.

The Collective is a sentient amalgam of radioactive cockroaches that's been bedeviling the heroes of Freedom on and off for about ten years now. It's an energy vampire that gets smarter and stronger the more energy it drains - it's usually been a problem for the Atoms and other heroes who rely heavily on technology. It can't really talk, only mimic human speech through the buzzing of insects. You've never heard of it having psychic powers, or of a "Psycho-Collective."

Let's call it a DC 15 Gather Info/Streetwise check to know what the Collective is. Harrier/Caradoc knows nothing about this, but he bets it's a jerk

"This is no recent struggle. This is the Battlefield station," replied Caradoc in a voice utterly devoid of his Renaissance Faire quality medieval accent. "During the Terminus Invasion of 1993, a hellborer dug its way into the G-Line tunnel and infested it with Omegadrones. The structural damage to the area proved impossible to fix, even for Dr. Metropolis." Realizing that he'd fallen 'out of character', as Gina put it, he fell silent for a moment before going on in that stilted accent, "Ye insects have lured us here for some grim purpose. I suggest we-" Suddenly, from behind him, there was another explosion of psychic energy visible only to Somnium - one that rapidly transformed itself into a shifting, hideous illusion that was terrible to behold. It was many things at once, as if finding it impossible to hold a form for too long; a woman beset by a cybernetic transformation, a sneering gangster with bloody hands, a hideous spectre stinking of brimstone, and a saintly-looking man with bulging, maniacal eyes. Before it could speak, Caradoc turned and shoved his glowing blade through the shifting mass of the abomination, but this time the illusion proved impervious to attack. "Fools!" it laughed in an unholy chorus of voices. "Genius, refugee, monster, ringbearer, we have brought you here that you may bring tidings of our approach to the surface. The Collective is gone, overthrown by a new and superior race! There is only the PSYCHO-COLLECTIVE!"

APPROVED

Have an HP, Rob

June 19, 1981 Capetown, South Africa Devil's Peak Thoughtspeed awoke face-down in the dirt, only his helmet saving him from a mouthful of earth as he sat up. He was in the middle of a small burned patch in the center of what had once been a pretty field of pink flowers, overlooking a coastal city he had never seen before in his life. It was daytime and a bright daytime at that, but downright chilly as a cool breeze came rolling in off that vast, blue ocean. As far as he could tell, he was alone, but there were a few hikers he could see elsewhere on this mountain, and they all seemed to be pointing towards where he was. He had plenty of time, given his speed, but they were coming this way. Lion's Head Errant heard the thoughts before the words. <Ah, look at him. He's John's age> He opened his eyes to see a man bending over him, a dignified figure in his late sixties in a brown suit with a broad red fez on his head, his copper-colored skin showing the marks of much sun on his face. "Kid, you speak English? Afrikaaner? Melayu? We've got to get you out of here before the damn kêrels show up. They see you passed out in the cemetery, they'll think you're drunk and throw you in the hoosegow - or maybe think you had the bomb, eh?" Sitting up, Errant found that he was indeed in a cemetery, and an old one at that, the tombstones engraved with Malay interspersed with English, the stones long since worn smooth. "Come on, I'll get you in the rectory." Zonnebloem "It's some bloody colored girl." The kick to her ribs roused Cho as she opened her eyes - she was lying on her back in a vacant lot, looking up at a blue sky and the scowling face of a police officer in an unfamiliar uniform. "Hey, China doll, get up!" Sitting up, she could see there were two officers, both of them wearing heavy mirrorshades and glowering down at her. She was in an unfamiliar neighborhood on a cool, albeit bright day, in a vacant lot that looked to be wedged between two recently demolished buildings. "What'd you do, blow up your still?" the first officer who'd spoken sneered. "Where's your papers, girl?"

Cho tucked her body at the last minute so she didn't pulp the man she'd struck against the asphalt, leaving her straddling his midsection as he looked up at her. Cho couldn't see him (and it definitely was a he), but he evidently could see her through black patches on his nearly featureless masked that were evidently eyeholes. "Schiesse! You!" There was recognition in that voice, and pain from what had to be at least one cracked rib, even if he was no one she had ever seen before in her life. Suddenly he was gone, teleporting out of the crater and out next to Downtime, cradling his ribs in obvious pain. For his part, Downtime was facing down Thoughtspeed with an aura of annoyance. "Oh, for pity's sake, kid, are you really calling out the fastest man alive?" Hopping from foot to foot, Downtime zipped over next to Cho and raised a fist. "Well, after I kick your friend's ass, we'll see if you can keep up with-what the hell!" He'd left a long trail of glowing energy behind him, one that crackled from Thoughtspeed to Downtime like two points of a Jacob's Ladder. "What the hell, kid, did you take a showerrrrrr innnnnnn" his words were stretching out as the lightning crackled out again, this time reaching his still unnamed partner, before bouncing back to Downtime, forming a triangle that neatly enclosed the three superheroes as Errant came down off the fire escape. "chrrrrrroooooooooonnnnnnoooooo...." And then there was another flash of light, and a sound like thunder - and the three heroes were elsewhere.

I like this build, and concept, a lot - one thing I would do is drop one of the less useful feats (like Weapon Bind) for Challenge (Fast Acrobatic Bluff). That'll let you do your Acrobatic Bluff as a move action. I would also get Skill Mastery for your Acrobatics, so you can automatically get 10 on that Acrobatics check (and three other skills - maybe Perform and Profession too?). You should also pick up some Sense Motive, since as it is he's _very_ vulnerable to being bluffed or startled via Bluff or Intimidate.

Abilities: 4+4+6+0+0+14=28 pp STR: 14 (+2) DEX: 14 (+2) CON: 16 (+3) INT: 10 (+0) WIS: 10 (+0) CHA: 24 (+7) Combat: 12 + 12 = 24 pp Initiative +2 Attack +6, +10 w/ Mark is Magic Grapple +8 Defense +10 (+6 Base, +4 Dodge Focus), +3 Flat-Footed Knockback -6 Saves: 6+6+8=20 pp TOU: +20/+10 (+3 Con, +7 Protection, +10 Defensive Roll) FORT: +8 (+2 Con, +6) REF: +8 (+2 Dex, +6) WILL: +8 (+0 Wis, +8) Skills: 80 r=20 pp Bluff 13 (+20) SM Diplomacy 13 (+20) SM Gather Information 13 (+20) SM Knowledge: Civics 5 (+5) Knowledge: History 10 (+10) Knowledge: Pop Culture 10 (+10) Languages 6 (Arabic, English [base], French, German, Grue, Lor, Russian) Medicine 5 (+5) Notice 5 (+5) SM Feats: 67 pp Attack Specialization (Genie Magic) 2 Beginner’s Luck Benefit (Security Clearance [uNISON]) Connected (UNISON) Defensive Roll 5 Dodge Focus 4 Evasion Fearless Inspire 5 Interpose Luck 7 Quick Change Seize Initiative Sidekick 30 [Nina al-Darsah] Skill Mastery (Bluff, Diplomacy, Gather Info, Notice) Well-Informed Powers: 12 + 53 + 2 + 13 + 3 + 7 = 90 pp Enhanced Feats 4 (Ultimate Save 4 [Fortitude, Reflex, Toughness, Will]; Extras: Affects Others, Range 2 [Perception]) [12 pp] Mark is Magic 24.5 (49 PP, PFs: Alternate Powers 4) [53PP] BE: Blast 20 (genie magic; PFs: Indirect 3, Variable Descriptor 2 [any magic]) {45/49} AP: Create Object 12 (summoning; Extra: Duration [Continous], PFs: Innate, Precise, Selective, Variable Descriptor 2 [summoned objects]) {41/49} AP: Damage 15 (catastrophe; Extras: Area [General, Burst], Selective, Flaw: Action [Full]. PFs: Indirect, Variable Descriptor 1 [any accident]) {47/49} AP: Teleport 10 (transportation; Earth to Moon/1000 ft, Extras: Accurate, Affects Others, Area [burst], Flaw: Long-Range Only) {40/49} AP: Transform 7 (genie magic; any non-living to any non-living, 100 lbs, Extra: Duration [Continous]) {49/49} Immunity 2 (aging, despair effects) [2 pp] Luck Control 4 (cancel GM Fiat, cancel HP expenditure of others, give someone else HP, spend HP for someone else; PF: Subtle) [13 pp] Protection 7 [7 pp] Abilities 28 + Combat 24 + Saves 20 + Skills 20 + Feats 67 + Powers 90 = 250/250 pp PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 4 + 4 + 4 + 0 + 4 + 6 = 22 pp STR 14 (+2) DEX 14 (+2) CON 24 [14] (+7/+2) INT 10 (+0) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 16 (+3) Combat: 16 + 16 = 32 pp ATK: +8 (+9 Melee/+12 Noahic Array/+15 Dessication/Swords) DEF: +13 (+5 Dodge Focus, +4 flat-footed), +4 Base Init: +2 Grapple: +11 Knockback: -3 Saves: 0 + 5 + 8 = 12 pp TOU +7/+2 (+2 Con, +5 Enhanced Con) FORT +7/+2 (+2 Con, +5 Enhanced Con) REF +6 (+2 Dex, +4) WILL +10 (+2 Wis, +8) Skills: 56 r=14 pp Bluff 11 (+14/+18), SM Diplomacy 7 (+10/+14), SM Gather Information 2 (+5) Intimidate 10 (+13), SM Knowledge (History) 4 (+4) Languages 2 (Arabic, English, Base [soqotri]) Notice 4 (+5) Sense Motive 12 (+14), SM Swim 3 (+5) Feats: 21 pp Attack Focus: Melee 1 Attack Specialization: Swords 3 Attractive Benefit (Status) Challenge (Fast Taunt) Dodge Focus 5 Environmental Adaptation (Underwater) Equipment 1 Evasion Skill Mastery (Bluff, Diplomacy, Intimidate, Sense Motive) Takedown Attack Taunt Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Equipment: 5 ep Scimitar (Strike 3, PFs: Improved Crit, Mighty) [5ep} Powers: 10 + 4 + 3 + 32 = 49 pp Enhanced CON 10 (to CON 24/+7) [10 pp] Flight 1 (10 MPH/100 ft per move action) (PFs: Move-By Action, Subtle) [4 pp] Immunity 3 (drowning, environmental cold, pressure) [3 pp] Noahic Array 13 (26 points; PFs: Alternate Powers 6) [26+6=32 pp] BE: Move Object 8 [Effective STR 40, Heavy Load: 6 tons] (Extras: Damaging, PFs: Accurate 2) {26/26} AP: Blast 8 (Extra: Alternate Save [Fortitude], PFs: Accurate 2) {26/26} AP: Damage 5 (Extras: Alternate Save [Fortitude], Vampiric) {16} + Drain Fortitude 5 (PFs: Accurate 3) {8} {16+8=26/26} AP: Fatigue 8 (Extra: Range [Ranged], PFs: Accurate 2) {26/26} AP: Move Object 8 [Effective STR 40, Heavy Load: 6 tons] (Extras: Damaging, Targeted Area [burst], Flaw: Range [Touch], PFs: Accurate 2) {26/26} AP: Paralyze 8 (Extras: Alternate Save [Fortitude], Range [Ranged], PFs: Accurate 2) {26/26} AP: Stun 8 (Extra: Range [Ranged], PFs: Accurate 2) {26/26} costs abilities 22 + combat 32 + saves 12 + skills 14/56 + feats 21 + powers 49 = 150 pts

Background: The youngest of twelve and raised primarily by servants after her mother’s disappearance, Nina al-Darsah was spoiled as only the daughter of a king can be. She learned early on to poke people around her to see how they’d react, sometimes with her dawning powers but sometimes with her words, but soon found it was dull, tedious stuff. Servants feared her, as well they should, but that was no more satisfying than squashing an insect - and her siblings were far too old, with the exception of her brother Kirogi, who was just young enough to be vulnerable to a little sister’s taunts and manipulations, which in retrospect, she admits, may be why brother Kirogi left when he turned 18 to lend his tidal manipulation powers to the forces of Japan’s revanchist Imperial Resistance Army. He always was soft. But then Kirogi was gone, and what was she supposed to do with herself? She supposed one day she’d strike out on her own to seek her fortune as her siblings had, or maybe marry someone very wealthy and very handsome, and in preparation for the former she began studying the so-called heroes who had so often bedeviled her father, figuring they would one day be her enemies too. Deciding that the best way to learn about her future enemies was to go among them; she successfully begged her father for permission to study in America (and learn about its ‘superheroes’, all the while planning to sample some of that decadent Western culture. As fate would have it, she got a chance to do both when Mark Lucas, aka Edge, was assigned as her bodyguard during her first trans-Atlantic plane flight. Mark was a dalliance at first - he was good to her, and very handsome, and everything she was looking for in her first real lover. When she realized just how powerful he was, that was a source of a deeper attraction - what could she accomplish if a man like that was hers? But Mark proved hard to tempt, at least with offers of fame and power, and so she kept pushing, looking for the same weak spots she’d found in so many people over the years. But there was nothing - he wasn’t frightened of her father or of her, he didn’t seem to want anything from her except companionship that she rather enjoyed providing, and he had no ambitions to wealth and power. But he wasn’t a coward, either; calling her out when she stepped beyond the boundaries of Freedom City etiquette, but defending her right to believe and say what she wanted at the same time. His friends, when she got to know them, were the same way - and it was baffling to her! Beings who were clearly her equal, at least in some ways, who saw their power as a duty to serve others while expecting nothing in return. It was baffling! It was like entering a realm of madness, or a realm of people speaking a language she didn’t quite understand. She fought alongside Mark a few times, but her interest wasn’t in superheroing. Of course, the more she thought about it, she wasn’t sure _what_ she was interested in - her history major had made her a better writer and more comfortable in a library, it was true, but those weren’t really skills she could see herself using back in Socotra, and she had no desire to live the tedious life of a scholar. But her life as an aimless aristocrat idly toying with the other aristocrats and her father’s hangers-on now seemed duller than she wanted to live, and almost as bad - purposeless. But as it happens, fate has a way of finding purpose for those who seek it out - even if it’s not what they might have wanted. Complications: Complication: True Power, The Divine Right To Rule, Is Something You're Born With. Nina’s getting better about this, but she still has a lot of issues understanding why people are so jazzed about freedom and democracy. Why should the masses be in charge of their own destiny, anyway? Complication: Together, you and I will be the strongest couple in the entire world! We will dominate the Earth! Nina loves Mark, for all that they see the world very differently, but still thinks she can get him to lose what she sees as naivete. Complication: It's Terrible When You Can't Trust The People Who Are Closest To You. People have a way of not trusting the mad despot’s daughter, for some reason - and she has her own issues with trusting them. Complication: Do The Tides Command This Ship? Nina will not accept defeat in water-related matters - ever! Complication: Well, That Sounds Pretty Shallow And Stupid. Let's Try It! Nina’s not exactly a hedonist - but she’ll try anything once. Complication: Are You Sure? I'm A Pretty Good Liar. Nina’s inner life is her own business, thank you. Complication: No, YOU Miscalculated! Having been the baby of the family her whole life, and now the partner of a very powerful superhero, Nina al-Darsah is eager to prove she’s just as tough as anyone else - even when she most certainly isn’t. PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 4 + 4 + 4 + 2 + 4 + 4 = 22 pp STR 14 (+2) DEX 14 (+2) CON 24 [14] (+7/+2) INT 12 (+1) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 14 (+2) Combat: 16 + 16 = 32 pp ATK: +8 (+12 Noahic Array/+15 Melee) DEF: +13 (+5 Dodge Focus, +4 flat-footed), +4 Base Init: +2 Grapple: +17 Knockback: -3 Saves: 0 + 5 + 5 = 10 pp TOU +7 (+7 Con) FORT +7 (+7 Con) REF +7 (+2 Dex, +5) WILL +7 (+2 Wis, +5) Skills: 56 r=14 pp Bluff 11 (+13/+17) Diplomacy 7 (+9/+13) Gather Information 8 (+10/+14) Intimidate 8 (+10) Knowledge (History) 4 (+5) Languages 2 (Arabic, English, Base [soqotri]) Notice 4 (+5) Sense Motive 8 (+10) Swim 3 (+5) Feats: 21 pp Attack Focus: Melee 7 Benefit 2 (Status, Wealth) Challenge (Fast Taunt) Dodge Focus 5 Environmental Adaptation (Underwater) Equipment 1 Evasion Move-By Action Takedown Attack Taunt Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Equipment: 5 ep Scimitar (Strike 3, PFs: Improved Crit, Mighty) [5ep} Powers: 10 + 4 + 3 + 32 + 2 = 51 pp Enhanced CON 10 (to CON 24/+7) [10 pp] Flight 2 (25 MPH/250 ft per move action) [4 pp] Immunity 3 (drowning, environmental cold, pressure) [3 pp] Noahic Array 13 (26 points; PFs: Alternate Powers 6) [26+6=32 pp] BE: Move Object 8 [Effective STR 40, Heavy Load: 6 tons] (Extras: Damaging, PFs: Accurate 2) {26/26} AP: Blast 8 (Extra: Alternate Save [Fortitude], PFs: Accurate 2) {26/26} AP: Move Object 8 [Effective STR 40, Heavy Load: 6 tons] (Extras: Damaging, Targeted Area [burst], Flaw: Range [Touch], PFs: Accurate 2) {26/26] AP: Damage 5 (Extras: Linked [Drain Toughness], Penetrating) {10} + Drain Toughness 5 (Extras: Affects Objects [+1], Linked [Damage], Penetrating, PF: Slow Fade [5 rounds]) {16} {10+16=26/26} Super-Senses 2 (Darkvision) [2 pp] costs abilities 22 + combat 32 + saves 5 + skills 14/56 + feats 21 + powers 51 = 150 pts

Flying that she was, Stronghold arrived first at what turned out to be everybody's destination - an unused section of sewer accessible to the heroes if they blasted, pulled away, or jimmied one of several rusting iron gates that blocked the way and bore warning placards that dated back to the early O'Connor administration nearly thirty years earlier. Past the gate, through a few broken 'canals' that were long since dry at the bottom but for dried ordure and scuttling cockroaches, the heroes (all arriving from different directions) found themselves actually leaving the sewers behind entirely. It looked as though someone, or something, had broken right through the wall of the sewer system and into a new space - what turned out to be a long-abandoned subway station. Stronghold's light cast an eerie orange glow as she took in the scene of what looked to be been a war even before decades of neglect had set in - there were scorch marks on the walls and a torn-up subway car still on its tracks, and tiles and bricks all torn up wherever she looked. And everywhere, everywhere were the cockroaches, scuttling and nesting together like a mobile, hissing carpet. It was really very good she couldn't smell. Down below, the owner of the footsteps showed himself as Caradoc walked in, the faceless shining knight an odd contrast indeed to the infested scene all around him. Still not wanting to risk his jetpack in this area no doubt laden with sewer gases, Caradoc looked up at Stronghold, remembering Erin's stories of a hero who wore a colored ring with special power. "Ringbearer!" he called in a tinny metallic voice. "Didst you follow yon cockroach swarm? We were brought here for ye same purpose!"