Avenger Assembled

"...that is a doomforge," said Harrier, as appalled as he would at the too-familiar sight in this unspoiled place, one of the few true blasphemies the misotheist former Omegadrone recognized. "It is not a weapon or a portal the League's sensors would recognize. They are not portable. None would have been built here in 1965 or 1993." His hands tightened into fists as he gave Gina a wide-eyed look, only just noticing her condition amid his own extreme focus. "It is part of the Omegadrone assimilation process. Without a connection to the Coil, it could not actually transform a person into a drone, but it could certainly kill anyone put inside. We must destroy what is happening there!" He was already turning and all but running for the door as he spoke, but at the sight of Gina's condition he bent low. This was too important for him to delay, but neither could he sacrifice Gina on the altar of urgency. "Gina? Gina, speak to me," he asked urgently. Behind him on the monitors, she could make out the construction process. For a trained engineer and scientist like Gina, the workers were decidedly odd to watch, moving with a singular purpose and with uncommon skill as they climbed and walked around the growing structure, which they seemed to be building out of car parts, scrap computer parts from a nearby donation bin, and even metallic items from the park itself. They didn't seem to be communicating with each other; instead moving with the unity of army ants as they went about their construction. When she looked up at Steve, his face was white, save for scars that had flushed red.

"Oh, you are from outside?" replied Keres, a look of cold amusement on his falsely-human face. "How remarkable! Rogue warned me her little boyfriend might bring in outside help, but I was expecting Miss Americana and Dragonfly, not teenagers with attitude." Keres stood up in his cell and stretched, looking relaxed despite his confinement and the glowering guards outside. "You might as well leave now, little boy. What's coming is going to be tough enough for the natives and machines like me, but you organic projectors are going to be in for a world of hurt. You might even get sucked right out of that meat sack of yours and into something more interesting." He grinned. "But you look like the type to get really offended by the loss of your flesh, so you may want to run home first."

The shapeshifter visibly flinched at Wraith's terrifying mien; evidently knowing what a Kinigosi was was no armor against fearing them. if anything, it seemed to make matters worse. "You...you can't actually hurt me," she said defensively, shrinking away as much as her bonds allowed. "Even if you tear this avatar up, I'll just wake up in my crib and you won't have a hostage anymore. You may have your little computerized friend here who makes you think this place is real," she went on with a nod towards Citizen, "but nothing you people do to me is going to stick once I'm out of here." "Well, then," said Citizen, turning to face his antagonist directly, "if we can't permanently hurt you, then we don't have any good reason to hold back," he said sharply, bending down next to her on the floor and giving her a steady-eyed glare behind his shades. "So you'd better start talking, or maybe we'll see how my friend here likes the taste of you?" Her teeth set, the shapeshifter reluctantly said, "Look, I'm not even supposed to be here. I'm just paying a debt I owe the Foundry." She slumped in her bonds. "Your friend Rogue's one of Talos' top people, and he's backing her play on her own turf. That's where all of us came from." "Wait a minute," Sharl went on, frowning. "Why would Rogue want to destroy Tronik? She's a technosupremacist, she knows killing us is just like killing a human-" "She doesn't want to kill the people, kid," said the shapeshifter irritably. "She wants to kill the city."

Lemme know when you finish editing. The flaw is just (Limited: When Denied Dodge Bonus). It basically does what you want, but also does so in a way that doesn't give you flaws you don't want.

Rayford's eyes widened at the sight of Rene's message, and involuntarily he shot a glance down towards his daughter. He didn't say a word, but his meaning was obvious to all the heroes. For her part, her eyebrows narrowed suspiciously at the look on his face, and she turned her gaze back at the heroes with a new look of suspicion in her eyes. She hadn't seen the message, that was for certain, but she still seemed wise to the idea that something suspicious was up. Though she let her father talk, she stepped back behind him, where she could watch all of their conversations. "I, uh, have just had a really hard time, is all, with everything that's been...happening." The civil servant ran his hands through his hair, tension, pain, and not a little fear clear on his face now that his daughter couldn't see it clearly. "Tell me why you're here?" he said, his voice almost a plea.

Harper looked thoughtful at Lady Laser's words, surprisingly so given the swagger the dictator had displayed so far. "All right, Lady, Gateway, we'll try it your way. Take him back to his cell," she said with a dismissive wave to her guards. "And get a psychic ready to interrogate him. Perhaps we can get more out of him if we squeeze him hard enouh. I'll give our guests a personal tour of the city." For his part, Citizen signaled his assent to Miss Americana and began a slow, careful hop from computer to computer that kept him close to the geologist-turned-prisoner. The technician, who the guards now addressed by name, Karl, certainly looked inordinately relieved: whatever cell he was going back to was better than whatever dire fate had been in store for him out here. Sharl and Karl wound up in a concrete blockhouse on the surface with iron bars in the windows of all things, Sharl himself in an old desktop computer a room away from the prisoner. He kept his ears open, the system around him reading to his eyes like standing in rooms full of dusty Earth filing cabinets, waiting for his chance to step out through the attached screen and explore the room beyond. For Gateway and Lady Laser, accommodations were far more pleasant inside the heated jeep-cum-limo that was the Patriotic Colonel's choice of transportation. If you were light on conscience, New Freedom did look like a fine place: private homes were mansion-sized and more as they drove beneath them, the Colonel assuring them how deep each went, while even the proles had access to hovercars and jetpacks overhead, with the powered people flying around under their own power like lords of the air, given a wide berth by the black-clad humans in the sky and on the ground. The hospitals and computer centers proved more advanced than the rest of what they'd seen there; the people were certainly in good health, looking well-fed and strong, while in the schools children learned from holographic teachers amid starscapes, projected laboratories, and a dozen other scenes designed to entertain and educate children. Truthfully, even the proles didn't seem to have it that bad: they all had access to technology not available to most people in the outside world, and they looked healthy too: it wasn't until one saw a street full of people ostentatiously look away as their lords and masters (notable because they didn't have to wear the black jumpsuits everyone else did) passed by, that something of the reality of the place began to sink in. For her part, Harper was eager to interrogate both women as much as she could get away with. "Now, as far as what we can do for you as new arrivals, there's plenty of space. If you can clear your own land and build your own house, anything you want is yours; if not, we can give you people for it, you'll just have to find your own ways to pay the nation back. We have our ways." She winked at that, and added more seriously, "Bring in what you want; no one's going to bust you for some coke or max here. As far as what you produce here, whether it's from scientific studies or anything else, you have total license to do as you please. We can arrange equipment, test subjects, anything else that's necessary for you, without having to get approval from some bureaucrat. All we ask is that you be there to defend the country when necessary, and that you put ten percent in to keep the operation going."

"Thank you," said Steve, nodding seriously at her words. "They have few advocates, and a word from Miss Americana will carry much more weight than a word from me. I have been a poor guardian," he confessed, remembering the long hours he'd put down in Antarctica as teacher for the refugee children and advocates for them with the Freedom League. "Sometimes they see me as the monster that took them from their families; other times, what I say on their behalf is dismissed as just one monster speaking on behalf of others. But they have done well despite that." He took a moment to sort his thoughts, putting them into words like this an unaccustomed effort. "The scars on their bodies and minds may never fade, but they can learn that there is a world beyond what they have endured, here in Freedom City." He fell silent after that, watching the television news and musing on their situation. He was aware of Gina's discomfort, but if she could stand to be so close to him, he would take it for all that. If they were both isolated by their pasts, whatever Gina's past had been, at least they were isolated together. He looked down at his hands, acutely conscious of the metal inside them and scars across the skin, but took handfuls of popcorn to eat. Their silence was finally interrupted, not by their own initiative, but by the news. Trish Tucker, a cheerful young cub reporter for one of the local newstations, Steve couldn't remember which one, was just reporting on a fascinating new development at nearby Hayes Park. Perky, blonde, and in her early twenties, it looked like Tucker was just starting out in the news business as she stood outside on the unusually warm February afternoon. "And on the lighter side, this "Flash Mob" has been at work in Hayes Park all day, building this contraption," she said, gesturing behind her, where some two dozen people from all walks of life were working together to build something: a half-finished contraption that looked a bit like a giant globe: a half-built sphere mounted inside a semi-circular frame with all sorts of glowing lights inside. "The organizers won't say what it's for, but they say it'll be a big surprise for the people of-" Steve was on his feet, his eyes widening at the sight, flushing red along the lines of his scars. "With your powers, can you see that spot again?" he murmured urgently. "That place in the park, and what they are working on there?"

Mandragora, Dragon of the Terminus Mandragora, Dragon of the Terminus, is uncomfortable around Omegadrones. Personally, they offend what remains of the sensibilities of Techno-Chivalry deep within his breast, strategically, they are tools created by his enemy Shadivan Steelgrave and their use lets Steelgrave sink his formidable talons into Mandragora's breast through the network of favors that is how Annihilists negotiate amongst themselves. When assigned to command them, he takes pains to use them up, happily sacrificing millions to snuff out a few hundred resistors. He prefers to rely on his dragons in combat, whether the heart-sworn servants who are descended from his old retainers or even better, the black-hued dragons raised in the heart of the Terminus itself. Perhaps because of this, his conquests tend to be a of a very different flavor than his rivals among Omega's vassals. When Mandragora lays siege to a world in Omega's name, he doesn't come to break the will of their heroes or transform their population: he comes to cleanse that world's surface in the ultimate flame of the Doom Coil. He makes his jaunts from the Terminus aboard his great dragon-headed starship, bombarding worlds from orbit before descending into the atmosphere to cleanse their surface in fire and flame. The dragons that are his vassals these days breathe black Terminus flame instead of true fire, their scaly hides obsidian black as they stalk dying worlds, incinerating all life in gouts of terrible black flame and gleefully devouring the ashes left behind. Mandragora himself only descends into personal combat when a conquest is threatened or when he has been personally challenged; after all, that's the time when he truly feels alive, when he can allow himself to believe that he is still the warrior-born he once was rather than the servant of gigagenocide that he has become. His retainers, generally clad in red lacquer armor bearing his golden dragon seal, their faces hidden behind masks, spend most of their time in his tower on Nihilor when they have not been deployed into battle. Their humanity has not led them to mercy: rather, they are intimately aware of the price of failure, and know that should they betray their master he will slay them with his own hands before the eyes of their family rather than allow them to weaken the others (and thus him) with other Annihilists through 'softness'. Carefully kept away from the proles, many of Mandragora's retainers believe that with the death of their world, they and the surviving dragons have become guardians of Hell, punishing the wicked and destroying worlds that have fallen into sin. He lets them believe this; knowing the alternative would be far worse...

Earth A-Green-90 (Draft) On Earth A-Green-90, superhumans stayed out of the public eye for many, many years. There were instances of fantastic stories throughout history; bears mystically empowered to battle dark sorcery during the Anarchy in England in the mid-1100s, another sorcerer whose wars against azure-skinned gnomes became legend in the Renaissance, and a great many others, but true superhumans first appeared in the public eye in the late 1980s. It started small at first: the Serpent People Warriors of the New York underground, the super-soldiers of Action Force and their nemesis the Terror Tarantulas, spiraling wider as wormholes were discovered to alien worlds after Halley's Comet struck a gateway and exploded in space, in one an American astronaut became a warrior queen, in another cyborg warriors battled a world-conquering tyrant in a future age of awe and wonder. Though the period was one of grim darkness on Earth-Prime, on Earth A-Green-90, the 1980s and 1990s were an age of fantastic wonder and imagination. The greatest of all the new age of heroes were the Guardians: six teenagers selected for greatness by the psychic gestalt spirit of Earth itself, Gaia. Wearing mystic armor bonded to the elemental forces of the world, they became the champions of a new age. There was Burton, the American, with the power of wood, Joey, the Australian, with the power of metal, Gina, the Brazilian, with the power of water, Pavel, the Russian, with the power of earth, Elizabeth, the Kenyan, with the power of fire, and Li, the Laotian, with the power of the Void. Guided by Gaia's wisdom and with the power to combine into the mighty giant Planet, the avatar of the elements united, they remade the world. Forests sprung up again where they had been clear-cut, scrapyards and junkheaps cleaned themselves up, mountains torn up by mining grew up again, rivers flowed into the desert, elemental fire heated homes and buildings, and the power of the void brought rain and snow across the planet. Those were good years. But as the Guardians aged, things grew more complicated; the mystic power they'd tapped with their armor spilled out across the world in a gradual corruption even more insidious than the polluters and dark wizards they'd fought as young people: lab animals gained tremendous and terrible intellects, whole towns of people were mutated into jaundiced sociopaths, and three terrible _things_ rose from downtown Los Angeles on the old Warner lot to wreak havoc through California. Though the Guardians did what they could to save lives and help, their powers only amplified their world's growing magical blight. They finally resigned their posts, leaving behind Planet, when one great blight swept across a seaside city, transforming millions of people into avian humanoids the like of which had never before been seen on Earth. Things did get better after they retired, only using their elemental powers for emergencies and to save lives, but there would be no easy solutions for this magical contamination: the very soul of the planet had been corrupted. At least, that's what it seemed until just a few months ago, when Li called the Guardians back together for one last great adventure. She had tapped deeply into the Void in retirement, going deeper than the others in her mastery of the element that had always been hers to control, and she had found something wonderful there: a clean, pure energy that could burn away the magical contamination of the world, giving the Guardians a chance to resume their old work as heroes and guides of the world, while not incidentally making life better for all the people of the globe. Only Burton was suspicious; the American had never been terribly bright or terribly observant as a teenager, but as an adult he had taught himself to think things through more carefully: where had this power come from? Had they practiced any in its use? But the others, eager to resume their old lives and save people again, made the fateful choice to go on without him. Burton left Gaia Island behind and headed home to his native New Jersey. And so the Guardians gathered together, once again wearing their armor, and opened up a portal to the very heart of the Void at the center of the magic of their world. And then the Omegadrones came.

Vampire Ape With A Power Ring PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 12 pp STR 30 [22] (+10/+6) DEX 14 (+2) CON n/a INT 10 (+0) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 12 (+1) Combat: 20 pp ATK: +5 [+4 w/Growth, +8 w/Ring blasts] DEF: +10 [+4 w/Growth, +6 w/Ring shield] Init: +2 Grapple: +14/+16 Saves: 7 pp TOU +14 (+10 Protection, +4 Ring) FORT n/a REF +5 (+2 Dex, +3) WILL +6 (+2 Wis, +4) Skills: 44 r=11 pp Climb 4 (+10, Skill Mastery) Intimidate 13 (+14/+15, Skill Mastery) Knowledge (Arcane Lore) 2 (+2) Language 1 (English; Base: Romanian) Notice 8 (+10, Skill Mastery) Sense Motive 8 (+10, Skill Mastery) Survival 8 (+10) Feats: 5 pp Challenge 2 (Accelerated Climb, Fast Startle) Power Attack Skill Mastery (Climb, Intimidate, Notice, Sense Motive) Startle Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 103 pp Comprehend 2 (speak to and understand animals) [4 pp] Device 9 (Power Ring, Hard to Lose, PF: Restricted [apes]) [36 pp] Blast 12 (PFs: Accurate 2) [26+1=27 dp] AP: Move Object 12 (Heavy Load: 48 tons) (PFs: Accurate 2) Feature 7 (Buys Off Sunlight Drawback) [7dp] Flight 1 (10 MPH) [2dp] Protection 4 [4dp] Shield 2 [2dp] Super-Senses 3 (Detect Magic 3 [visual]) [3dp] Growth 4 (Extra: Duration [Permanent], PF: Innate) [13 pp] Immunity 30 (Fort Saves) [30 pp] Protection 4 (Extra: Impervious, Flaw: Not Vs. Fire/Silver/Magic) [4 pp] Protection 6 [6 pp] Regeneration 6 (Recovery Bonus +0, Resurrection 1/week) (Flaw: Source [blood]) [3 pp] Speed 1 (10 MPH) [1 pp] Super-Movement 1 (Swinging) [2 pp] Super-Senses 3 (Acute Scent, Darkvision) [3 pp] Drawbacks: -10 pp Weakness (Holy Symbols; dazed by charisma check vs. holy symbols) [-3 pp] Weakness (Sunlight; destroyed in 1 minute) [-7 pp] costs abilities 12 + combat 24 + saves 7 + skills 11/44 + feats 5 + powers 103 -drawbacks 10= 150 pts ----- Design Notes: Look, I think this one is pretty self-explanatory.

A tiny edit for Harrier: He needs Eidetic Memory Sent down the Doom Coil by Trollthumper.

APPROVED

Ah yes, you're quite right about that. (I had forgotten your TK wasn't Damaging) So you're good there, but you do still need to fix the other stuff. Don't forget to put in his Grapple with it. Oh, and 16's the minimum age for PCs.

Perception range powers are capped at PL, so his TK can't be over 7. He should have a Fort save higher than +0. You forgot to put in his TOU! I would definitely _not_ use Ablative on his Force Field; that's not a good flaw at all to put on your only source of Tou, instead you should use the Dodge Bonus flaw from our sample Psychic build. He'll be denied his Tou altogether if caught flat-footed (it's basically Enhanced Feat: Defensive Roll) but v. good. Same cost, but much more effective! His super-senses are a bit costlier than you really need; consider something more like for TK radar.

KD: Keres is the name of an infiltrator and sophisticated corporate saboteur. Because of Corbin's superheroic connections (and his nat-20), Corbin recognizes that Keres is a robot, and an agent of the Foundry!

The guards are still unfriendly, but they're willing to give Corbin some rope here. Give me a...Knowledge: Business check. DC 20! Sage, Papercut?

Between the two of them, Citizen and Gal Vanic managed to calm down the frightened journalists. Gal Vanic also managed to calm down Sharl too, though maybe it was just because her obvious joy at her pun was infectious. Bad as this was, for him and everyone else in Tronik, at least he wasn't alone here the way he'd been in earlier crises. "Thanks. Hope you don't mind your face on the holos," he joked weakly to Kimber before turning back to the news crew. He wasn't very good at ordering adults around, but he could give it a try: these were his people. "We'll get through this. Tronik's faced a lot worse than some alien frea...invaders and a traitor with an ax to grind," he said decisively. He wasn't going to play Rogue's game anymore, and that meant not talking like that about people from Earth to their faces. The shapeshifter was just now drifting back to consciousness, and she gave Wraith a jaundiced look through a bloodshot eye. "I know you. What's a Kinigosi doing in a human simulation, anyway?" --- The militia didn't look mollified by Corbin's words, but they didn't look angered by them either. "We have captured another alien in the city," replied the militia commander evenly, his face still hidden behind his mask. "But you look like a person." Evidently for these people, that was enough to win the early stages of trust. "Perhaps he will talk when he sees you." With the militia's guns at his back, Cobalt Templar was escorted deeper into the militia headquarters. Corbin could easily see what a crisis he was walking into; armed militia occasionally ran back and forth through the narrow hallways, an alarm was blaring from somewhere, and everyone was obviously on edge. The walls looked decidedly odd to Corbin, as they would to any human: there was no sign of doors, the walls simply irised open to reveal rooms on the other side buzzing with activity and heavily-armed alien soldiers. Finally, they reached what at first looked like a blank wall, and then transformed itself into an open cell door: inside a figure in shockingly human garb lounged, a red-eyed man in a red jacket, white tee, and blue jeans. As the door opened, he turned and smirked at his captors, who looked ready to go in there and whip the smirk off his face. "Alien! This man would have words with you." "Are you going to beat me up, superhero?" asked the man with a wink. "I don't think we've met. My name is Keres."

In the kitchen, while the microwave popped and as Gina channel-surfed, Steve allowed himself a moment to relax. He'd worked very hard, over a great many weeks, to find himself back in this place with Gina, and now that he'd accomplished that...he had no idea what to do next! He had a feeling the lessons he'd learned about dating and relationships from television and movies weren't going to help him much here, and the personal relationships he'd learned about in his youth weren't going to be of much assistance. Maybe he would have to turn to friends after all. Back in the other room, he joined Gina on the couch with a bowl of popcorn that he carefully set between them. Sharing food was an easy romantic gesture; it was also a convenient barrier between the two of them. He still didn't know what experience had made Gina so fearful of others, but he wasn't going to pry; this quiet moment, for all the stress and fear behind it, was one of the best he'd had in a long time. He sat bolt-upright on the couch, occasionally looking from the television to Gina, when he wasn't eating the cheesy popcorn. After a few moments, he settled on the easiest sort of conversation: their work. "The children in Antarctica will be transferring to the Nicholson School. They might appreciate a visit from Miss Americana when they arrive. They have grown accustomed to my face."

Ugh, I have repaired some of the math errors (Supercape caught several of them) that I had mentioned to correct but somehow never actually got edited. My apologies, fellow Refs. (I'm fine with the Abrahamic God (or whatever passes for him) existing in-setting, because we've said so!) Shofet, take a look at how I've changed up some of your powers and drawbacks. If they meet with your approval, we'll go from there. I dropped the vulnerability and power loss and replaced it with a drain; so that he eventually becomes paralyzed after spending ten minutes or so on a holy site, and with a vampire-like aversion to crosses being waved in his face with hostile intent. He now actually meets caps with many of his powers, others where he doesn't are at least point-balanced. I dropped his basically useless disintegrate power to let him afford the level of communication he had, fixed the math on his Comprehend, and fixed his healing as well.

Vampire Infernalist PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 4 pp STR 30/14 (+10/+2) DEX 14 (+2) CON n/a (-) INT 12 (+1) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 18/12 (+4/+1) Combat: 16 pp ATK: +4 (+8 Hellfire Array, +10 Overrun) DEF: +8 (+2 flat-footed) Grapple: +6/+18 Initiative +2 Saves: 10 pp TOU +12 (+10 Protection, +2 Defensive Roll) FORT n/a REF +7 (+2 Dex, +5) WILL +7 (+2 Wis, +5) Skills: 15 pp=60 r Bluff 14 (+15/+18) Disguise 0 (+1/+4/+24) Drive 8 (+10) Intimidate 14 (+15/+18) Knowledge (Arcane Lore) 4 (+5) Knowledge (History) 4 (+5) Notice 4 (+6) Sense Motive 4 (+6) Ride 8 (+10) Feats: 11 pp Defensive Roll, Dodge Focus 4, Fast Overrun, Move-By Action, Startle, Taunt, Ultimate Save (Will), Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 102 pp Obfuscate Array [8+1-1=8 pp] (Drawback: Not in Sunlight [-1]) Concealment 4 (all visual) AP: Morph 4 (any humanoid) Presence Array [6+1-1=6 pp] (Drawback: Not in Sunlight [-1]) Enhanced Charisma 6 (to CHA 18 (+4)) (PF: Fascinate [bluff]) AP: Emotion Control 10 (Flaw: Limited [Fear Only]) Hellfire Array 12 (PFs: Accurate 2, Alternate Powers 2) (Drawback: Not in Sunlight) [24+2+2-1=27 pp] BE: Blast 12 AP: Damage 10 (Extras: Selective, Targeted Area [Trail], Flaw: Action [Full], PFs: Accurate, Progression 3 on Area) AP: Enhanced STR 16 and Super-Strength 4 (Heavy Load: 12 tons) Immunity 30 (Fortitude Saves) [30 pp] Impervious TOU 6 (Flaw: Not Vs. Blessed/Silver/Wood) [3 pp] Protection 6 [6 pp] Protection 4 (Extra: Impervious; Flaw: Not Vs. Blessed/Silver/Wood]) [4 pp] Regeneration 6 (Recovery Bonus +0, Resurrection 1/week) (Flaw: Source [blood]) [3 pp] Speed 5 (250 MPH) [5 pp] Super-Movement 3 (Wall-Crawling 2, Water-Walking) (Flaw: Only While Moving) [3 pp] Super-Senses 5 (Darkvision, Detect Evil 3 [visual]) [5 pp] Drawbacks: -7 pp Vulnerable (vs holy) (uncommmon, major) [-3 pp] Weakness (Repelled by Crosses; stunned by Charisma check vs. holy items) [-4 pp] costs abilities 4 + combat 16 + saves 10+ skills 15/60- + feats 10 + powers 102 - drawbacks 7 = 150 pts ------------------------------------------- Design Notes: Based on the Baali bloodline from Vampire: The Masquerade, Nicholas Cage's role as the titular character in the recent Ghost Rider movies, Doc's Vampire Gadgeteer build, as well as the recent online meme about Nicholas Cage being a vampire (based on the 19th century picture above that does bear a striking resemblance to the actor in his younger years) I present a vampire infernalist! He's a powerful character with a lot of strong abilities; a master social manipulator and sneak who can easily hide himself, present to be almost anyone, dominate most social settings, and also hurl flaming chains to batter his foes. (Bludgeoning unholy damage, anyone?) His ride is some sort of demonic horse or motorcycle, take your pick, one that can easily run up walls or across bodies of water, that can break the sound barrier when he goes fast enough. He can also just punch people with enhanced demonic strength, though he's only PL 7 in melee with it, and may be better off using that strength for carrying people around on his ride. His infernal powers provide some protection against sunlight (though it does weaken him significantly) at the cost of making him extremely vulnerable to the holy symbols that are the usual bane of vampires and demons alike: if he runs into someone who knows what he is, he's screwed. He's not particularly vulnerable to fire, either, another gift from his infernal influence. Note that Detect Evil is not recommended for a superhero game, but given his nature I think it's likely that most of the bad guys he'll fighting will be very evil indeed. My take on this character is that he was a criminal; either an Old West outlaw or a modern-day biker, betrayed and left for dead by his so-called allies. He cursed God in his despair and was found out by a particularly cruel, cunning vampire skilled in the arts of sorcery, one who transformed him and taught him the rudiments of the black arts: he realized he had no desire to follow his 'master's' path, though, and fled as soon as he could into the night. He despaired for a while, living in secret, but decided he could do good in his new life to make up for his many sins: maybe it was too late to make up for all the bad things he'd done and pacts he'd signed, but perhaps he could make sure no other unwary souls fell down the path he had! With his Startle and Taunt, he's great at social manipulation and debuffing his enemies, his devil's tongue letting him tear down even those foes who are tough enough to stand up to his scary powers. If you don't like the vampire infernalist angle, this character is a decent enough build for a vampire mage with some tweaks to his abilities and feats. You could invert the concept entirely: Perhaps he's a vampire who has reached some inner peak of enlightment and now uses his abilities to free his brethern and humans from sin, firing beams of holy. healing light out of his third eye, with the downside of being especially vulnerable to infernalism and dark magic thanks to his blessed nature.

Patriotic Throwing Master PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 38 pp STR 16 (+3) DEX 18 (+4) CON 18 (+4) INT 18 (+4) WIS 16 (+3) CHA 12 (+1) Combat: 24 pp ATK: +6 (+12 Ranged) DEF: +12 (+4 flat-footed) Init: +8 Grapple: +9 Saves: 13 pp TOU: +8 (+4 Con, +4 Defensive Roll) FORT: +8 (+4 Con, +4) REF: +8 (+4 Dex, +4) WILL: +8 (+3 Wis, +5) Skills: 88 r=22 pp Acrobatics 11 (+15, Skill Mastery) Bluff 4 (+5) Diplomacy 9 (+10, Skill Mastery) Knowledge (arcane lore) 11 (+15) Knowledge (civics) 11 (+15) Knowledge (earth sciences) 11 (+15) Knowledge (life sciences) 11 (+15) Languages 6 (Chinese 2 [Cantonese, Mandarin], German, Japanese, Russian, Spanish; Base: English) Notice 7 (+10, Sense Motive) Sense Motive 7 (+10, Sense Motive) Feats: 29 pp Acrobatic Bluff Attack Focus: Ranged 6 Benefit (Status) Challenge (Fast Acrobatic Bluff) Connected Defensive Roll 2 Dodge Focus 6 Eidetic Memory Evasion Improved Initiative Power Attack Precise Shot Skill Mastery (Acrobatics, Diplomacy, Notice, Sense Motive) Sneak Attack Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 25 pp Throwing Stuff Array (PF: Innate, Drawback: Power Loss: Medium [-1])[24+1-1+1=25 pp] Blast 6 (Extras: Autofire, PFs: Improved Crit 2, Indirect 2, Ranged Pin, Variable Descriptor 1 [bludgeoning/piercing/slashing]) AP: Damage 6 (Extras: Targeted Area [shapeable], Selective, PFs: Ranged Pin, Variable Descriptor 1 [bludgeoning/piercing/slashing]) costs abilities 38 + combat 24 + saves 13 + skills 21/84 + feats 29 + powers 25 = 150 pts ---------------- Design Notes: Polymath agriculturalist, political progressive, and Vice-President of the United States, Henry A. Wallace was probably the smartest VPOTUS of the 20th century. A member of the Wallace family of Iowa, his grandfather and father among the most important agriculturalists of the 19h and 20th centuries, Wallace had a long and distinguished career; editor of Wallace's Farmer, inventor of modern strains of hybrid corn and chickens, he became FDR's Secretary of Agriculture in 1933 and Vice- President in 1940. A genius and polymath, Wallace was a man with contacts everywhere, a restless soul who moved from hobby to hobby whenever the mood struck him. (His most famous interest was his dabbling with European mysticism in the person of Russian emigre Nicholas Roerich, a man with whom Wallace would later break vigorously). Wallace had the misfortune of being too advanced in his ideas; in 1944, he was too honest for Northern political bosses and too anti-racist for Southern Dixiecrats, and was dumped in favor of Harry Truman as FDR's VP. He badly misjudged the tenor of the times afterwards, and in 1948 ran as a candidate of the anti-Cold War Progressive Party, never quite realizing why all these people with Russian accents were supporting his campaign, and returned in disgust to his business, Pioneer Hi-Bred Corn, afterwards. (For those interested in learning more about Henry Wallace's remarkable life, check out John C. Culver's American Dreamer: The Life and Times of Henry A. Wallace [2002]) So, naturally, after seeing the above picture of Henry Wallace practicing with boomerangs in 1940, it was a natural step to build him as a patriotic marksman, a skilled shot who can pick off a target with a well-thrown boomerang or knock down a horde of enemies with a storm of thrown objects. What the heck, I just missed Presidents' Day, and Wallace just missed being President. This works fine as a build for a marksman hero who has gone into semi-retirement and pursued a career in politics, one who is a little out of shape but is still a good man to have on your side in a fight. He also makes an interesting NPC in a Golden Age game, perhaps Vice-President Wallace seemed so flaky and unreliable to outsiders because he was busy leading the secret arcane war between the US and Germany!

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The shapeshifter's unconscious, her secret is out. Seemed prudent to end the fight there! She needs restrained, and interrogated; she'll wake up as soon as she's bound. Sharl's fatigued. Couple of possible routes for the recycler and militia crew to go.

Following the militia got Corbin to a helipad along the side of a massive black building bristling with armaments, looking something like a cross between a huge police station and a military installation. It didn't take long for his hosts to come hustling out of the building, stormtroopers in heavy black body armor and full face masks, each carrying impressively huge blaster rifles glowing with a visible plasma charge. The leader, his rank denoted by blue stripes on his sleeve, approached Cobalt Templar with his men's weapons aimed and boomed, "Who are you? How did you come to this city?" "" He hesitated, then went on, " seized from an alien the militia captured during their battle with the . It is a large black sphere, reflective on its surface. If you can it with your ring, you can prevent the " The mental voice, which had been getting shaky, suddenly went out entirely, leaving Corbin to face the militia!

There was no sign of foul play on the old man's body, nor any clear indications of how he died to the two high school students. Old being the right word, on closer inspection he appeared to be a centenarian or more, though it was tough to tell with how long Sharl had mentioned people lived thanks to the advanced technology hereabouts. There was no sign that the workers on the floor beneath them had noticed anything suspicious, with their focus either on restarting the stalled antigrav line or concerns about the terrifying message from Rogue that had been broadcast all across the city. Suddenly, there was a distant bang from outside the building's thick walls, and the overhead lights flickered and cut out, plunging the massive recycling center into a gloom cut only by glowing red emergency lights along the walls. "Circuit's blown! Everybody out!" a supervisor yelled, and beneath their feet the workers began a hasty, if obviously well-rehearsed, evacuation. Distracted as the workers were, they failed to see what the heroes noticed, a black-clad figure standing at the top of the big recycling unit, seeming to survey his work with a satisfied posture.