Avenger Assembled

Moved it along. Roll for initiative. :)

Via one thing and another, the two heroes turned out the lights and burst into the garage proper. The room inside was a fearsome place where industrial hell met supernatural; rusted and abandoned trucks were covered with bizarre occult symbols, dried blood mixed with dried oil up on the walls. The two heroes had little time to take note of the monstrous conditions inside the place, though, because no sooner had they burst their way in than they found themselves confronted by true monsters! Standing in the middle of the room over several large piles of zombie powder stood a familiar figure, a dark man in a black suit, a skull on his head. "Whatchoo doin'?" inquired Baron Samedi, a murderous glint in his eye as he shouted over the echoing noise of what proved to be a live-band of...was that a zombie dance-hall band? Why yes, yes it was! Several hoodlums stood on either side of the room, startled looks on their faces, as suddenly...Avenger killed the lights!

Ok, you guys about done with this thread? We're about ready to move on...

A sense motive check seems appropriate. Also, perhaps History, Arcane, or Theo/Phil.

"Dark One, we are engaged in the summoning of a minor blood-demon by the name of Varney Orloff." Rochambeau frowned at the mention of the name. "Orloff allowed himself to serve as minion and lackey for various mortal occultists and even...nation-states in the middle of the century," the cult leader filled in, a look of naked disgust on his face. "With your help, we seek to punish him for his disrespect for his unholy nature, and make of him a sacrifice to the Red King."

Though both hounds found purchase in Avenger's flesh with eerily audible chomps, they broke off quickly, looking up at the seemingly-uninjured champion of darkness with confused looks on their monstrous faces. For his part, Jack was triumphant and alarmed all at once, adrenaline pumping as it never had before. The dogs hadn't pressed their attack when they'd sensed no live flesh beneath their teeth! A good thing, surely, but he doubted his good fortune could repeat itself. He met Vulture-Man's taunts by grabbing him by the arms and pulling as he sought to unsocket his arms like a Ken doll.

OK, managed to fix that problem. That is a full-on Power Attack in the Grapple for a DC of 28. Hard to sneak attack someone you're grappling with...though Avenger might get there in time. :)

Yes, yes it is.

This is the OOC thread for Belphegor's entertainment.

Start Date: February 4th, 2009 Continued from here. The Blood Brotherhood turned out to have a huge, lushly appointed mansion set aside for themselves and Belphegor. Though the decor was all "new money", nothing but cheesy modern art and paintings suitable for a hotel room near you, there had at least been a lot of "new money" spent on the process. There were Porsches in the parking garage and gold plate on the faucets in the hot tubs, not to mention a lushly-appointed wine cellar in the basement, wet bar in the den, and surprising quantity of cocaine in the attic. "The house belongs to Mr. Allard's cousin; you remember, the one that took the long vacation to Mexico after that incident with that teenaged prostitute?" The cult leader, who had introduced himself as Rocheambeau on the way there, had given Belphegor the grand tour of the four-story mansion. "His groundskeeper, the late Mr. Ghuliman, was something of a sympathizer. After his untimely passing, we took the liberty of taking over the estate." Man and demon stood together in the lounge, nearby a gold candleabra left unmolested even after months of cult-squatting in the house. The house itself was oddly clean despite the months the cultists had spent there, though it certainly had a lived-in feel. "May I offer you something to drink, Dark One?" Rocheambeau inquired of his guest. "We have a fine selection of wines, along with a smaller, but still choice selection of human and animal blood. If you prefer physical company, I ask only that you inflict no physical harm on my people. We will need all we can for the great ritual, even with your august help."

The cultist turned out to be telling the truth as Scarab probed his mind, though his memories were addled by drugs and magic. (Not to mention magical drugs.) His cult's rituals were hedonistic, bloody things with large doses of self-mutilation and flagellation, with the idea that their sacrifices and sins brought them close to the Red King who would very soon rise to overthrow the world of men. Avenger dropped the man contemptuously to the ground, wiping blood from his hands. "Scum.," the dark crusader pronounced, visibly offended. "Suggest we recruit assistance. Had difficulty with this fight. Need to recuperate. "

It seems like the easiest solution at this point would be for the DC to spot Avenger presently to be DC 27, and then to subtract 2 from my most recent attack and grapple checks until the upgrade can be successfully processed. After all, Scarab and Slamdance will only wait so long! :)

Hmm, just a little encouragement for our hard-working Refs to remember us poor upgrading folks. Done by Sandman XI

I'm using Skill Mastery as my default, Archeville, giving Avenger a total Stealth roll of 30. And I, er, do have +11 as my melee attack bonus as of my most recent upgrade...

Jackie Earle Haley for Avenger. Stuart Townsend for Jack.

Well, Avenger wouldn't ask if they were more than twenty feet up. Also, there's "fall into the shadow, pop into mist when no one can see, then change back at the double-quick..."

Can't make it; not quite comfortable enough with other heroes yet...

Jack couldn't come. But Melinda could, and Jack could come with her. Melinda has a reputation as a famous, mysterious patron of the city's arts...;)

I have not forgotten this thread, and will post here soon. ;)

A lesser man might have hesitated at Dark Star's offer and Scarab's quick reply, but Jack had the advantage of being from a race of unnatural schemers and plotters. If Scarab suspects, give him no reason to doubt you. "Prefer to rely on my own abilities. No offense." Still limping, Avenger made his way outside to where several cultists were stretched out on the asphalt driveway by some tire tracks. "Had a demon. Good shot. Getting tired of demons." Firmly in-character, Avenger picked up a moaning cultist one-handed, slamming him into the wall. With his other hand, he punched him in the stomach. "Where?" "What? Oh, God..." The man vomited. "I dunno!" "WHERE?" Avenger hit him again, cold rage in his blue eyes. If the whole game had been blown because of these sons of... "We gotta a lotta safehouses, man! I dunno! What did you do?" The already-battered cultist was bleeding badly from the face, where it looked like Avenger, or someone, had smashed him teeth-first into the asphalt earlier in the fight. "WHERE DID THEY GO?" "They'll kill you if you go there, man," replied the cultist, shattered but still defiant. "The sacrifice will bring forth the Red King! All will be immortal before-" His voice broke off in a squeak as Avenger lifted him into the air, the genuine disgust in Jack's voice breaking through the persona of Avenger for a moment. "Talk now, or I swear to God they'll find your guts on the roof of this place!" He met the cultist's eyes, and by God the man saw he meant it. "North Bay! They're in the place in North Bay! They'll kill you if you go there! Maybe Sixtus lost the Staff, but we've got powerful friends! The King will Rise!"

Ned's threats struck home, as had his earlier taunts, but once again Avenger was able to shrug them off. He fixed his steely gaze on Ludd, casually backhanding a swordsman who'd been coming at him from the rear. "You know nothing of threats. Of curses. Of pain." He slammed one bloody fist into another. "Will not ask again."

Avenger cared little for the crimes of the man in the demon-suit, if that's all he was. The priority was to take him down, fast and hard, so they could find out exactly what he or his hounds knew about the city's demon problem. Casually disappearing into the darkness as if he'd been born there, Avenger reappeared behind the demon-man, wrapping his arm around the man's neck and lifting him high in the air. "I'll break it," he hissed malevolently.

Though the search below revealed an impressive array of arcane artifacts, some large and some small, there was no sign of either Sister Sixtus or her malevolent arcane staff. The two telekinetics did manage to find the beam that had struck her, though, its distinctive crucifix shape now battered and partially smashed by the weight of further debris landing on it. The beam has been altered by more than just impact, though; the end that struck Sister Sixtus has been cut away by a force sharp enough to leave the stone shining mirror-bright. Some smaller chunks of rock and stone are cut sharp as well, some in half and others in thirds, making for an ominous suggestion indeed. After all the fuss over the thefts from the Beaumont collection, the missing daka crystal proved easy enough for Scarab and Dark Star to find, though there were no signs of the bolt that killed Varney Orloff nor the dagger whose bizarre shadow powers made Nacht-Krieger. Avenger helped briefly with the search, but soon the battered adventurer limped out of the half-ruined church to deal with the people he'd been beating up before the fight all went to Hell. "Prisoners outside. Must speak to them before the police arrive."

13. Meh.

Not the Blade movies? You mean Ron Perlman's not real? Let's go with Old Church Slavonic, otherwise known as Old Bulgarian. Just obscure enough that it would take some enterprising hero some work to dig up what it really meant. And vampires do have something to do with the Balkans...