Avenger Assembled

Initiative time.

"We're in deadly earnest, Cannonade," said the Unifier, a Southern accent creeping into his voice for a moment. "Delmar Higgins," he called, standing up and hefting his shield. "The United Nations has found you and your Klan brothers and sisters guilty of crimes against multiculturalism and of attacking our secular society! What do you have to say in your defense?" Higgins at least didn't lack physical courage, he responded with a foul oath about the racial origins of his accuser, while his boys hastily went for the .38s they'd been concealing. At that, the Unifier hurled his shield into the crowd. Mark Lucas didn't hesitate, throwing himself in front of the projectile and taking the hit on his shoulder, feeling the crack reverberate through his body as the Klansmen went for their guns and the 'heroes' on stage went into action. Talking was over! As the shield came rebounding back to him, Unifier hurled it at Cannonade, the spinning projectile bouncing off the patriotic powerhouse's chest before it came whirling back to him. "Not even smart enough to get out of the way! I expected no less from Legionaire's whelp," he hissed, audible only to Cannonade and the thugs behind him. From the middle of the crowd, Edge stood up, his costume having fallen into place around him as he rose to his feet. "You're not UN anything," he shot at the quartet of super-thugs, pointing at all of them in turn. "And I should know, because _I_ am a UN agent! You're just a bunch of goons in Halloween costumes who are playing to these people's fears and hatreds! And they have a lot of fears! And a lot of hatreds! There are little kids here, for goodness' sake! Take them down, Liberty League! Hard and fast!"

He's not that far. He's in a trailer park near Wharton State Forest about twenty miles away, getting on via some kind of homemade wi-fi network using the local cable line. Pretty sophisticated stuff, if you're not Cyberknife.

Citizen cocked his head as if listening to invisible voices for a moment, something his team-mates were getting used to by now. "He's...Doug Malick, I think," both into the commlink and to his colleagues. "He's Freedom City-born, going to school at some place called Dunwich Prep in New Hampshire," he said, pronouncing out the shire like it was an English province. "He came back to Freedom City for the parade. Unfortunate." He hmmed. "Parents seem normal enough...Dunwich is, uh, old for you guys, it dates back to the 1720s. They talk a lot about how students should learn to unlock their true selves." He hmmed. "Their website sounds a lot like Claremont's. Headmaster's name is Samantha Collins..." He drummed his fingers on his thigh for a moment, then added in a low whisper, "She used to be called Mercurielle. Active as a hero in the 1960s and 1970s. Got very rich making cosmetics, is that a thing? She's a graduate who bought the place in 2003." He frowned. "Mercurielle was a shapeshifter."

Yes, yes you can! DC 40 Computer check, if you dare!

DC 33 Online Research check.

What, are you saying they don't look like legitimate agents of the UN-ZOG? (You can just see through them)

Though he was concerned about being found out, Sharl wasn't particularly worried that week. This was hardly the first time he'd snuck away to go exploring, even if it was the first time he'd done so from Claremont rather than his parents' home on Tronik. Time in the computer lab gave him the email address of the head librarian at the small library annex in the Fens, while time visiting the mail room got one of his backup projectors sent there in a box of donations. The local librarian was overworked, by the time the donations were processed, Sharl would already have acquired the piece again. And from the library to the church was only a few minutes with as fast as he could fly. The Old Fens Mission turned out to be a big, complicated building, the product of several different architects (and styles) over many years before having finally been abandoned and locked up some years earlier. The only map online was a decade and a half old, having been done by the assessors before they locked the place up. It was theoretically owned by the city, since no one had put any payment on the property in years. Getting in would probably be doable: there were several possible entrances, either in the roof or one of several doors at ground level.

Citizen flew along in Miss Americana's company, his projector tucked away in an artfully concealed pocket in her costume. Geology wasn't really Sharl's science, much less the terrestrial variety, but he was still impressed at the elaborate cave network they were passing through. Tronik had none of this; the volcanic rock that the island sat on (and that the 'new island' would sit on when it was discovered) had few internal features. There was more light than he'd expected, but Gaian Knight had positioned the burrow well to catch the sun overhead, and of course Miss Americana was carrying light bright enough for all of them. When they were deep, he judged, deep enough that someone not raised beneath billions of tons of steel might be feeling claustrophobic, he heard a sound. When they paused, everyone else could hear it too. "Is that...singing?" Sure enough it was, coming from beneath their feet (inside a massive lava tube that dated back to the Jurassic period), with a tunnel down below showing where the beetle had gone. Sharl didn't speak Sub-Terran, but it was certainly no language he knew. Peering down below, they could see inside the cavern a group of two dozen Sub-Terrans surrounding the beetle and two figures atop: one slumped over the beetle, another, a hunched, squat-looking man, waving his arms at the Sub-Terrans: the Terra-King himself!

No sooner had the Aryan Angel disappeared than new players entered the scene: a gout of black and red fire erupted from the center of the small stage, instantly recognizable to Erin and Mark as the true flames of Hell itself. When the hellflash cleared, a quartet of sinister-looking figures appeared, leering menacingly at the crowd like villains from a 19th century melodrama. One was a tall, muscular figure in UN white and blue like a UNISON agent, his face hidden save for a goatee and handlebar mustache, strapped to his arm a triangular shield emblazoned with the UN symbol. On his left was a slinky-looking woman in a skimpy black outfit that showed lots of generous bosom and stomach, flames dancing around her fingers. In front of them was a crouching, hairy canine humanoid with long, sharp claws and dripping spittle, and next to him was a big, bulky man with long black hair and a giant hammer over his shoulder. As the crowd cursed and screamed, the shield-wielding man stepped forward and addressed the crowd. "Listen up! All you so-called Aryans are getting a visit from the United Nations Liberation Force! We're here to liberate you from your old-fashioned American values and your bigoted Christianity!" He hefted his shield. "Roll call!" The quartet introduced themselves: Unifier, the Flaming Feminist, Dog of War, and finally the Hebrew Hammer! The Unifier extended a hand to Cannonade. "Would you care to join us on stage...brother?"

Midnight and Wander: When Aryan Angel walked into her trailer, there was no sound: the trailer didn't rattle or move on its shocks, there was no sign of her moving inside. It was as if she walked in and suddenly wasn't there anymore.

I read this and I thought "Oh God, Sage!" :shock:

Is Koshiro going to follow the others into the keep, or stay out talking to Hannibal?

The crudely-lettered sign hanging from the stocks said "APE-STEALER." At Koshiro's question, the prisoner gave him a thin smile. "I dared give a runaway serf bread and bed for a night," he explained in a low whisper. "And covered for his escape when my lord's men came lookin for him. This makes me a stealer of apes and a thief, outlander. This is our justice." On closer inspection, while the chimp didn't look happy, he wasn't as beaten-down as he'd looked from far away: he was stoutly-built and healthy, with strong, intelligent eyes. "Worry not. I will be free by dark." He grinned again, showing an ape's pointed teeth. "I am Hannibal." At Corbin's words, the gorilla-knight actually looked abashed for just a moment. "Bonda's road is a harsh one," said Connor as he watched his squire do his tasks. "There are few chimps with the valor to rise to a knight's squire...and few gorillas with the courage to admit a chimp may do even that. If I am harsh in my discipline, it is so all may know he has earned his position." "So is it like this everywhere?" asked Sharl as they headed for the central keep, where the king waited to greet them. "Gorilla warlords, and chimp serfs?" "Not everywhere," said the great ape with a shrug. "The gibbons have their towns, and the orangs their churches, but this is how the rule is in civilized lands. I have heard the macaques have their own ways, but they are unbelievers and one cannot trust what you hear about them."

Do we need anything else done before we head off to shenanigans?

The underground cave system beneath the island is fairly typical for seaside caves; limestone and other sedimentary rocks, many areas partially flooded, and the like. It's easy to follow the beetle's trail down down and down, until you're a good 100 meters below the surface: one area of concern is that the tunnel also leads out to sea, so you guys are currently under the shelf: it's 100 meters to the surface, and probably another 50 of ocean water up there.

Giz and Electra?

Though he was still worried about Papercut, Citizen didn't comment on the other boy's injury: if he was fine, he was fine. Teenage boys shrugging off injuries a little too easily was one thing both Earth and Tronik culture had in common. "It wasn't anything Devil Ray did," said Sharl, studying Bastion with some concern. "I went through all his systems and he wasn't carrying any kind of mutagens." He thought for a minute, then shot a look at Papercut. "And Orion looked just as surprised as we did when everything started going crazy."

Khery-Heb PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 22 pp STR 10 (+0) DEX 10 (+0) CON 14 (+2) INT 16 (+3) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 18 (+4) Combat: 24 pp ATK: +6 (+10 Egyptian Magic) DEF: +10 (+3 flat-footed) Init: +0 Grapple: +6/+20 w/TK Saves: 17 pp TOU +10 (+2 Con, +8 Force Field) FORT +7 (+2 Con, +5) REF +7 (+0 Dex, +7) WILL +7 (+2 Wis, +5) Skills: 14 pp=56 r Bluff 6 (+10)* Concentration 5 (+7) Diplomacy 6 (+10)* Gather Info 6 (+10)* Intimidate 6 (+10)* Knowledge (Arcane Lore) 7 (+10) Knowledge (Theology and Philosophy) 7 (+10) Languages 4 (Akkadian, English, Hebrew, Phoenecian) (Base: English) Notice 3 (+5) Sense Motive 3 (+5) Survival 3 (+5) Feats: 5 pp Luck Ritualist Skill Mastery (Bluff, Diplomacy, Gather Info, Intimidate) Ultimate Save (Will) Well-Informed Powers: 68 pp Egyptian Magic Array [33+1=34 pp] Move Object 10 (Heavy Load: 12 tons) (Extra: Damaging; PFs: Accurate 2, Precise) 'summoned avatar' AP: Damage 10 (Extras: Selective, Targeted Area [shapeable]) (PFs: Accurate 2, Progression on Area) 'summoned swarm' Flight 1 (10 MPH) [2 pp] 'barque of the Gods' Force Field 8 [8 pp] Light Control 4 (100 ft) [8 pp] 'sunhawk' Shield 4 [4 pp] 'ba guardian' Super-Movement 1 (Duat) (Extra: Portal) [4 pp] 'doorway to the underworld' Super-Senses 10 (Detect Magic 3 [visual], Magic Awareness 3 [visual], Precognition [Flaw]) [8 pp] 'portent' cost abilities 22 + combat 24 + saves 17 + skills 14/56 + feats 5 + powers 68 = 150 pts ------------ Design Notes: This is my build for a Khery-Heb, the new Egyptian mystic class from the Green Ronin supplement Testament. I haven't been quite as faithful to the book class as I was with my previous Testament builds, since the khery-hebs gave me a little less to work with. The general idea is that khery-hebs are the wizards-priests of Egyptian society, acolytes of the various gods and goddess of Egyptian culture who can cast powerful arcane spells in their name. I've tried to build the khery-heb thus as a charismatic mystic with strong people skills, but who doesn't have the raw arcane might or powerful theological connections of a more focused wizard or priest. He has enough social skills that he can either talk down or scare off most interlopers against the throne with his powerful magics, but antagonists with high Charisma (perhaps thanks to divine backing) or Fearless will give him trouble. I've simplified the various khery-heb spells down to the basic idea of summoning: khery-hebs summon the mystic avatar of whatever god they worship (or of their signature animal) and said avatar strikes their enemies, moves heavy objects, or does whatever needs doing. Thus a priest of Thoth would summon a sacred ibis, while a priest of Horus a falcon. (Note that the famous incident with the staff would here be represented as Moses and Aaron winning a countering check vs. the khery-heb's Move Object effect. Contrary to what pulp Hollywood would tell you; those were probably not priests of Set, since the association of Set and serpentry comes from modern pulp fiction: Set's priests would have summoned a jackal to his service.) You could represent that summoning with the actual Summon power, but Damaging Move Object covers a great deal of ground. Said summoning isn't Subtle in this case, since the priest is standing right there calling on Imhotep or whatever. Though khery-hebs appear as villains in the Old Testament, that's more a matter of who they were facing: khery-hebs, male or female, make fine heroic PCs; either as time-travelers (having taken the long way or the slow way) from Ancient Egypt to the modern era (Perhaps he or she sealed themselves away until Tan-Aktor rose again to lay waste to the world, or until Prince Heru-Ra returned in his glory!) or as modern-day people inspired by ancient Egyptian sorcery. Another possibility: the 1930s coincided with a flowering of Egyptology (though the mania of the 20s had died down somewhat) as well as with the first superheroes: perhaps the PCs are a legacy of an Egyptian-themed mystic of the Golden Age!

APPROVED

APPROVED

APPROVED

Caradoc took off into the air, his dragon-faced jetpack roaring with 'magical' heat that luckily no one around seemed to be able to analyze, as he narrowly evaded the robot's clutching grip. He preferred to engage his enemies in melee, but the giant robot's glowing electrical body bespoke dire consequences if he tried to engage it in combat: power like that could come scorching right up his pike if he wasn't careful! So instead, he aimed his glowing blade at the robot, its tip glowing brighter and brighter as it whined with suppressed power, until he opened fire in a series of carefully focused, devastating blasts. Left knee, right knee, and it collapsed, midsection and the coruscating power failed, head, and the robot fell in pieces.

OK, we're officially out of combat (for now!), since this is just a hologram being projected in from who knows where. Since the EMP was all Miss A did that round (and we're out of combat), I'm fine with her specifying that it had the Selective extra and Action [Full] flaw: the last thing we want is for her to tag the two tech-wielding heroes alongside.

Caradoc kept a tight grip on his glowing sword, being experienced in the ways of mad geniuses. Sure enough, a secondary system sprang to life from the depths of the broken robots, projecting the holographic image of a blotchy-faced man in elaborate clown makeup: he seemed to favor the Emmet Kelly look. "C'mon," the image said, seeming to peer in the window. "Where's my little boy? You've been a very bad mommy Arleen..." "Don't...don't you come any closer!" yelled Arleen, pointing at the hologram and seeming to draw strength from all the nearby heroes. "You're not ever going to get your hands on him, you clown-faced freak!" "Cmon, baby," said the former Clown Constructor, winking at her and sticking his tongue out at the heroes at once; his Tim Curry impression was not very good. "Don't be like that. You know I can find you eventually, but you can't find me! Just let me have my boy and I won't need anything from you anymore."