Avenger Assembled

APPROVED

APPROVED

APPROVED My apologies for the delay.

APPROVED My sincere apologies for the delay.

Are you still interested in this character, Arichamus?

OK, I'll stunt the same thing but with the Alt. Save Reflex extra. Same cost, but now it'll actually work on him.

Christmas Crusader PL: 10 (150) Abilities: 34 pp STR 16 (+3) DEX 18 (+4) CON 16 (+3) INT 16 (+3) WIS 14 (+2) CHA 14 (+2) Combat: 32 pp ATK: +8 (+12 Ranged) DEF: +12 (+4 flat-footed) Init: +8 Grapple: +11 Saves: 11 pp TOU +8 (+3 Con, +5 Costume) FORT +6 (+3 Con, +3) REF +7 (+4 Dex, +3) WILL +7 (+2 Wis, +5) Skills: 20 pp=80 r Craft: Mechanical 8 (+10) Craft: Electronic 8 (+10) Investigate 8 (+10) Knowledge: Physical Sciences 8 (+10) Knowledge: Technology 8 (+10) Medicine 12 (+14) Notice 8 (+10) Pilot 4 (+6) Sense Motive 12 (+14) Survival 4 (+6) Feats: 28 pp Attack Focus: Ranged 4 Dodge Focus 4 Equipment 12 Improved Initiative Inventor Luck Power Attack Quick Draw [Draw] Skill Mastery (Craft [electronic], Craft [mechanical], Medicine, Sense Motive) Ultimate Skill (Medicine) Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Powers: 25 pp Device 2 (Hard to Lose) (Elven Garments) [8 pp] -Protection 5 (Extra: Impervious) {10} Device 5 (Easy to Lose) (Christmas Cannon) [15 pp] -Blast 8 (Extra: Autofire) 'gumdrop bombardment' {24+1=25} -AP: Stun 8 (Extra: Ranged) 'dental anesthesia' {24} Immunity 4 (aging, environmental cold, sleep, starvation and thirst) (Flaw: Limited [Half-Effect]) 'Christmas elf physiology' [2 pp] Equipment: 60 ep Commlink [1 ep] Grapple Gun (Speed 1 (10 MPH) and Super-Movement 1 (Swinging)) [3 ep] Handcuffs [1 ep] costs abilities 34 + combat 32 + saves 11 + skills 20/80 + feats 28 + powers 25 = 150 pts --- Design Notes: There are a million stories in the Christmas City. Here's one of them. There's a war on Christmas, waged by determined opponents in bitter, sometimes very public battles: evil sorcerers and dark magicians trying to seize control of the phenomenal wellspring of arcane and psionic power embodied in the person of old Kris Kringle. And there's another war, a war on the streets. Do you have any idea how many toys are made in Christmas City? How much wealth and power changes hands every day? Sure, most elves make toys because they want to, but they still need to eat and sleep, even if all the sugar in their diet makes that less important than it is for people. Who's going to control all that wealth and power? Who's going to keep the elf on the _street_ safe from the machinations of their ancient superiors as they war with each other to be Kringle's favorite, much less keep them safe from the bumbles and monsters outside? The reindeer do what they can, especially the red-nosed hero that's the Crusader's oldest and best friend...but there are some battles that need to be fought on the streets. So I give you the Christmas Crusader, a brilliant gadgeteer and inventor who's determined to do everything he can to clean up the mean streets of Christmas City. He's a dentist in his civilian ID, naturally, and it's up to you (and what age you put him in) to decide whether or not he's a dentist in a mask or a mask who sometimes pretends to be a dentist. As a lover of the classics, I prefer the first, naturally: I also think it helps humanize the hero. That's also one hell of a Complication for him in North Pole-based games: Christmas elves who don't make toys are decidedly _weird_ to their fellows, for all that he provides an essential service to the community. If you're running him in Freedom City, maybe the resentment of his peers is why he left. I tried to base his abilities off what you see in the old stop-motion cartoons that show his early non-costumed career, with a few hints here and there of logical extrapolation. So many potential enemies! The Saturnalian, driven mad by the loss of his people and determined to destroy the enemy that took away their homes and lands centuries ago; the Turkey Strut and the various Halloween ghoulies, Father Time with his terrible scythe, Baby New Year with her drinking powers, and many many more. In Freedom City, he's probably met the aging Doc Holiday at least once, and is a natural candidate for being mistaken for that harmless Silver Age villain if he doesn't make his identity clear early on. In a Golden Age game, maybe he gets arrested and accused of madness, and he has to go to court to prove that he really is a Christmastime hero! You could revive that idea in a Modern Age game, but it probably won't go over as well...

Dragon Abilities: 24 pp STR: 40 [16] (+15/+3) DEX: 10 (+0) CON: 40 [28] (+15/+9) INT: 10 (+0) WIS: 10 (+0) CHA: 10 (+0) Combat: 32 pp ATK: +8 (+5 w/size) (+4 ranged) DEF: +8 (+5 w/size) (+2 flat-footed) Init: +0 Grapple: +43 max Saves: 15 pp TOU: +15 (+15 Con/+9 w/out Growth) FORT: +15 (+15 Con/+9 w/out Growth) REF: +7 (+0 Dex, +7) WILL: +8 (+0 Wis, +8) Feats: 9 pp Attack Focus: Melee Dodge Focus Luck Move-By Action Power Attack Startle Takedown Attack Ultimate Save (Toughness) Uncanny Dodge (auditory) Skills: 10 pp=40 r Intimidate 8 (+8/+12) Notice 8 (+8) Search 8 (+8) Sense Motive 8 (+8) Survival 8 (+8) Powers: 63 pp Draconic Might Array [20+1=21 pp] Damage 10 (Extra: Line) [21 pp] ‘fire breath’ AP: Super-Strength 9 (PFs: Super-Breath, Thunderclap [bellow]) (Heavy Load: 12.5 kilotons) Flight 1 (10 MPH) [2 pp] Growth 12 (Extra: Duration [Permanent] (+0) ) (PF: Innate) [37 pp] Immunity 1 (aging) [1 pp] Super-Movement 1 (Wall-Crawling) [2 pp] Drawback: (-3 pp) Normal Identity (free action) (-3) --- Design Notes: A dragon, for all your dragonning needs. it certainly wasn't possible to fit all the powers of your typical D&D dragon on a PL 10 150 pp basis, so instead I just went with the classics: she's huge, she breathes fire, and she's really, really strong. Note that she's not immune to fire; not even her own firebreath! (Perhaps thanks to insulation in her throat and mouth that doesn't protect the rest of her body) The normal ID is so she can actually walk around and talk to people in a Freedom City setting: it's up to you whether she's a dragon who turns into a human or a human who turns into a dragon. I went with the assumption that this is ultimately a 'feral' dragon, one way or another: a character who is not familiar with the origins of her people/species, perhaps an orphan or a stray, a victim of a purge or parental abandonment. The general assumption here is that she's a freaking wrecking machine against an army, particularly a low-tech one: with her massive Toughness, Takedown Attack, and wide variety of area attacks thanks to her various types of breath attacks to what's caused by the sheer effect of a thirty-foot dragon punching a normal-sized man. Is she a dragon from song and story, that sort that used to throw down with knights in shining armor? Maybe that Golden Knight above thread used to scrap with her back in the day. Or is she an alien dragon that used to fly around on planet Draconis? It's only like twenty light years away, and if she was in hypersleep or aboard a particularly large warpship... The product of scientific experimentation and deliberate mutation, perhaps as a deliberate echo of European monsters in order to strike extra fear into the hearts of her 'makers'? Maybe she enters your campaign when a very odd wave of cattle mutilations is sighted, where the animals have been chewed up and dropped from a very great height? Tweak as necessary. Drop the Flight to make a more traditional Asian dragon; season with languages and skills and such to taste. There's nothing to say she has to be as ignorant as she is! You certainly don't need to stick with the fire breath, but it is a classic. This character is probably _very_ interested in accumulating a headquarters for herself as soon as possible, and filling it with lots of cool shiny stuff...

At her command, Murdock disappeared beneath Harrier's armor, the familiar chunkchunkchunk of metal plates erupting from his skin the only sound in the room apart from the noise of Miss Americana's instruments as they recorded the sound of Harrier's Terminus-fueled eruption. "And those same places," he agreed with her, his voice now muffled by the armor that both covered his mouth and WAS his mouth "have stories of shining angels in the sky, beautiful women and men who come to rescue and protect the innocent. You understand the power of myth well."

Adamant is immune to Telepathy. (But not, I hasten to add, mental effects!)

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"Holy cow, holy cow, it's Adamant." Mark didn't looked scared so much as he looked appalled. "He's a monster sort of, uh, animated suit of armor made by the god Hades. He fought the Centurion, Horus, even villains like Superior, as part of his mad quest to purge the world of all divine magic." He thought of his own secretive arcane heritage and shuddered. "My dad told me he was probably the toughest single opponent the old League ever fought. He's invulnerable." With the heroes not attacking him yet, Adamant resumed punching the mountain, making great booms that shook the rock below at every strike. "So one day, after he started actually killing innocents for the first time...the Centurion threw him into space," Edge added in a hushed whisper.

"All my teaching was done one-on-one, since I am the only teenager in the place where I used to live," explained Quo-Dis as she delicately drank her Coke, the straw sliding past luscious red-painted lips as she drank. "So it was a very great change," she agreed, toying slightly with the delicate gold necklace she was wearing, the long pendant hanging low beneath her throat, as she took a deep breath. "What we discussed was very different. I miss those days sometimes," she admitted, "but learning among all of you is much more important than whatever I learn in classes."

"I have only seen a few pictures," Harrier admitted, "but your description will be adequate. The disguise will need to be as elaborate as possible, to hide the reality within." He climbed onto the table, staring impassively at the ceiling. "My mother told me those stories. She had a great gift for telling stories, she had been...a writer, back when she and my father had a world to write on. As long ago as that was, I suppose I am the only one left who remembers them. Even those prole children who were not taken to be changed must be gone by now."

The spectacle of the fanged and toothed daughter of the king attacking his royal personage in his royal chamber was enough to briefly stun the Atlantean guards into submission, leaving the heroes to grapple with the hissing, spitting princess. Though Fusion entertained a brief, horrifying vision of a vampiric water monster, her tentacles lashing out to help restrain the ferocious princess about the arms and legs, but luckily Nereid seemed unable or unwilling to take her more slippery form. Theseus gave a cry of surprise at his daughter's assault, but luckily the quick reflexes of the assembled heroes stopped her from sinking claw or fang into his bare-skinned torso. "The shadow-death!" he cried. "Quickly, take her to the orichalcum chamber! She may yet be saved!" The burly Atlantean guards went into action then, by main force grappling Thetis and carrying her out of the throne room as she shrieked murderous defiance and foul oaths. Shocked, the room was silent before the king addressed the heroes. "Tell what has happened. Quickly." As she was the best grappler in the room, Fusion had gone to help deal with the princess, and down the hall helped seal the now vampiric (though hopefully not vampire, that poor little girl!) Thetis inside a perfectly sealed golden sphere that would 'purge the infection from her.' Frowning, Fusion shot a glance down at her left undertentacle and the deep bite mark left there by the squid monsters she'd swept aside with it. She hmmed, and pulled her tentacles back inside her body (at least as far as they would go), before she headed back to rejoin the others.

Quo-Dis gave Corbin that impenetrable stare for a long moment, then brightened. "Oh, okay. If it's not something you're ready to do yet, I understand. I don't want anyone to have to do something they don't want to do." As if the faux pas, if that's what was, hadn't happened, she cocked her head when the waiter came over and ordered their bourbon steak burger with the garlic and potato fritters. She looked as if nothing had gone wrong, reaching over to take Corbin's hand and smiling winningly at him. She really was quite lovely.

"That's not true," said Quo-Dis. "Zaranna goes with boys all the time, and she doesn't love them. She says she wants to experience the whole world before she has to go live in the jungle again, and I think that's very healthy for someone with such limited time. She can be very strange sometimes, but ultimately she's very practical." She folded her arms and looked away, the argument making her tense. "I just think that when you have only a few decades at most, you should be enjoying yourself with great deeds, not wasting what time you do have with...doing nothing."

"Don't you want to?" she asked, frowning suspiciously at him. "Zarana said this dress was very hot, even though I assured her the low neckline and the slit keep it well-ventilated." She gave Corbin a worried look, and lowered her voice to a whisper when he seemed determined to murmur. "I mean, we are as emotionally compatible as we are likely to be, and I'm sure we're both physically capable. If you're concerned about our safety, let me assure you that I've had extensive physical training about interacting with humans, and we are not biologically compatible without the use of vril technology."

"For two years now, so I've only just arrived," answered the beautiful blonde. "There actually are no schools like Claremont where I'm from. I've never been...taught alongside other young people before." Brushing hair behind one ear, she looked at the others, wincing at what was evidently a social faux pas. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask an embarrassing question," she added, wincing. "I only asked because I intend to have intercourse with Corbin, and I would like to have a larger knowledge base than only what Zarana and our health class has taught me about boys."

"Corbin is very interesting to me. Not many teenagers are so interested in the recent past of his people the way he is." It took Corbin a moment to put that into context: it wasn't often his interest in ancient archeology got that label. She listened carefully as Blake described his relationship with Jessica, then studied the other girl herself in turn with laser-like intensity. She had a deep stare; one that seemed to bore right into you, but it wasn't an unfriendly look either. "My roomate, Zarana, has many relationships, but I've never had a chance to talk to both parties at the same time before. Dating is very interesting so far. Have the two of you had intercourse yet?" she inquired seriously.

Blake fell, and seemed to fall forever, as the flames of eldritch energy burned across and through his body. Then, suddenly, as if from nowhere and everywhere, he heard a blast of celestial trumpets and felt a strong, powerful hand grab his. "Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? AND NOT ONE OF THEM FALLS TO THE GROUND APART FROM THE CREATOR'S WILL!" Heyzel of Heaven, the angel of Freedom, swooped down from the clouds above to catch Blake by the hand, pulling the pure human soul so discarded by the Adversary from the pit of destruction. "Live free, Blake Salazar!"

Even with the help of Midnight's wetsuits, the sudden transition to the underwater world of Atlantis was disorienting for the surfacer heroes: the enveloping feeling of water all around them, the shift from artificial electrical light to the glowing fungal-infested rock that Atlanteans put in their buildings, and the inescapable knowledge that they were thousands of feet below the surface of the Ocean! It didn't help that they'd appeared in a crowded room, some dozen or so well-dressed Atlanteans starting as people simply appeared in the room with them. Luckily, there were two people in the party who had been in this very room before! Being back in her native environment seemed to revitalize Nereid, the princess finding her feet within seconds of arriving under the water. As for Fusion, Joan Collier unhesitatingly curtsied...well, half-curtsied, anyway, she had her all-American pride to the only king on Earth she really respected. "King Theseus! I bring your daughter with grave news!" For her part, Fusion took to the water without hesitation, her tentacles drifting out somewhat as the water supported the weight of her whole body. It felt really, really nice to be here...nicer than she'd even remembered. Theseus, a powerful man with a chiseled physique, smoothly trimmed beard, and wearing a tightly-clinging shirt of pale green mail, stepped down to study them. "Thetis? Child, you're hurt!" He put his hand on his daughter's arm, all fatherly concern. "What's happened?" Nereid looked up at her father, and suddenly her eyes turned black and her teeth turned to a pointed lamprey's maw. "You are overthrown, my loving father!" And with that, she leaped straight for her father's throat!

"Quo-Dis," said the Ultiteen, a hint of firmness in her voice. "I call other people by their names, at least when we are not training or fighting, and so would like to be called by my own name." From the sound of things, she'd had this conversation before with other teenagers. "It's a pleasure to meet you both," she said with a smile. "I enjoy meeting people. How long have the two of you been a couple?" she asked. When the waiter stopped by for their beverages, she immediately ordered a Coke "from the bottle, please", sighing a little as she glanced at the wine list.

Quo-Dis stepped out of the car looking gorgeous in a red dress, cut high at the leg, and tall heels that still didn't bring her up to Corbin's great height. She walked in them with smooth ease, though, her natural command of vril making balance a snap. She took Corbin's hand and gave him a bold look. "Yes, let's." As they walked into the fancy restaurant, she hmmed, thinking about what she'd heard from Corbin about Blake's relationship with his girlfriend. She paid little heed to their surroundings, not having any particular interest in how they served food here, but focused on the teens when the waiter brought them over and Corbin started making introductions.

"It's not that difficult, honestly," said the immortal teenager seriously. "Frankly, I'm surprised at how short your curricula is. In my...old school," she elided, covering for the personal history that she knew was confidential in the school records, "Our historical education went back millenia, and that was if you preferred other fields." She smiled. "At least your stories about yourselves are interesting. Just like you, Corbin." She studied him, her eyebrow raising. "Why don't you tell me a story about your people?"