Supercape

Search: 1d20+1 14

The Lemurian cannot make that Toughness save, so feel free to takedown the others (you can take 10 on the attack, to automatically hit). So, at your leisure, feel free to post knocking out / beheading / whatevering the three Lemurians with the swift blade of sand!

Lament "Of course, great King!" bowed Lament, wondering if he had dropped the ball somewhat. In which case, it was best to exit stage left - and promptly. The King may not have been able to cry anymore, but Lament guessed he was still quite able to get irritated, angry, or downright furious. He took a few cautious steps to the exit, not wanting to propel himself to the skies quite yet. As he had no idea where this secret cave was, and in fact had no idea where he was in the first place, he decided to trust in magic. Or more specifically, the King's assurance of magic. It was better than nothing. So determined, he stepped outside and decided to lunge forward...and see where the boots took him!

GM There was a variety of gossip in the line, none of it particular pertinent. Amber was apparently beautiful, ugly, talented, and talentless all at the same time. The only persistent unchallenged comment was she was drunk. The rest of the band attracted the same mix of comments. It was clear that many here just came to gamble and drink and didn't care what the music was, as long as it was quiet. "20 Dollars" was the demand of the doorman, a very large man in black tie who sported a broken nose. Unfortunately, he had a very high pitched voice which was quite incongrous. He looked like he would rip the throat out of anyone who mocked him about it. Through the door, Justice could hear the sounds of Jazz and conversation, the smell of alcohol and sweat. It looked like she would be searched on her way in; a cursory pat down which would probably reveal nothing. As she understood it, it was the private room that had the tight security. The initial pat down at least meant that those inside were not armed with assault rifles or shotguns. Kidd would have been most upset.

GM "It's not broken in the first place!" complained Zip. "Just a little bit glitchy, that's all!" he said, proudly. He carressed the dimensional hopper lovingly, then slotted it back into his belt buckle. "Fat lot of good these lot are" he added, indicating the slightly intoxicated and often glutinous professors that circled around the tables, food, drink and each other. "Abstract concepts indeed. What does that mean? Sounds like modern art if you ask me..." He shook his head in contempt. "Who do you suggest seeing? Professor Phineas Ernest, who last examined the hopper?. It sounds like he has gone quite mad...."

GM "Even a chance is not good. Not now" interjected Det Wu. He gave Cho a pointed glance. "You know this, Sonny. Dr Sin's gone, and Hong Kong is about to blow up" He frowned and wiped his brow. "Didn't know it might literally blow up" he muttered. "It might" agreed Sonny Cho, equally disconcerted. "I...ah...heard that the Hornet was smuggling weapons" giving Frost a look. Even before the corrupted Daka weapons escaped Cairo, the Hornet had been smuggling weapons in. Cho, Frost, Voin and Dreanought had stood him down in a warehouse by the docks full of crates of weapons. "He used to have a warehouse down the docks" he said to Wu, keeping his cool. "He might well have cleared it out after I heard things" he explained. "But the Docks is almost certainly where the weapons arrived, and where he operates"

GM "The future, the past....yes, my eyes are wider than yours. I am not closed to the arrow of time" replied Setho. "You see the future in front, the past behind you, when all is an illusion! The future is just as real as the past, and the past is just as real as the present...." "We all must die, but we will have been....!" But the time for questioning was over. the Dust Devil had made his choice - to frustrate the Lemurians in order to get a few seconds more of Setho's ramblings. And his reward? Three spear thrusts to the back!

So you guys are up. The Lemurians are fairly low PL but lets see how it play out.

Dust Devil makes his choice. Three spears in the back (and they have affect insubstantial) on a flat footed Dust Devil! Three spears in the back: 3#1d20+2 6 12 12 with Dust Devil been flat footed his defence is 13, so he just avoids the spears!

GM And so...at the Vicarage. Revd Root opened the door. He was a tall vicar, thin, bearded, with deep blue eyes. He must have been in his late fifties, with grey hairs nearly overwhelming the few dark ones. He wore thicked rimmed spectacles and modest clothes that suited his profession well. "Yes? "Afternoon, your Reverendness" smiled Mr. Walker through his own thick beard. "Got some qu--some interesting folk here to ask you a few questions!" Root dropped his glasses over his nose and peered ontop of them. "Well, they certainly are....interesting!" he said, a little stiffly. "I'd ask you in, but I think you might break my house" he said to Dreadnought. "Ill get the tea..." he dissapeared for one second and...with apparently blistering speed, stepped outside his home with four mugs of quite respectable tea in his hand. "Now then, what would you like to talk about? I am supposing this isn't a theological conversation - unless you feel seem exorcisms are needed for all the ghosts" he started. "If so, I am afraid I am C of E. No exorcisms here...."

No worries!

Sgt Shark "More teeth than me?" grinned Sgt Shark at the sharks. Although it often looked like he was grinning. In a not very nice way. "I will eat your bladders!" he snapped at the Sharks, showing all his wicked teeth. The intoxicating fragrance of the disgusting Sea Devil filled his nose. If she made a threat, then they must follow through with it! He swam forward like a dart. This was his environment. He was dangerous enough on land. But here, he was king. At least, in his own head. And now, his blood was up. He felt his mouth fill with bloodlust, and visions of rending and biting filled his brain. In a moment, he was on a shark, clinging to its dorsal fin. He lunged froward, his mouth clamping over the flesh of the Shark's gill, and his claws raking over the skin. To his immense pleasure, blood filled the ocean...

Sgt Shark will swim to the unwounded one (move action), then attack! For this round, as he is in his favoured environment, adding +2 to Defence Bite Shark: 1d20+12 32 Bang, a critical for a DC 30 Toughness save. If its ok with you, as his blood is up and these are sharks, making that lethal damage.

GM The next day, the next evening... It took some questions, a little cash, and even, in one case, the promise of a stuffed parrot, but Justice managed to work through the sleazy bars, hustlers, hobos, and (in the case of the last item) the slightly insane. Amber was singing tonight in some crumbling venue called The Shuffled Deck where a drunken band played to a bunch of poker players. It was, predictably, popular with crooks and villains. Including... ...yes. By unfortunate (or perhaps fortunate) coincidence, Blowfish (and bodyguards) had arrived to drink and play. Justice stood in the shadows outside, scanning the building. Its security was mediocre architecturally, but it was fairly clear that with this kind of venue, with this kind of customers, guns and knives would be present. Although it seemed, from her questioning, that the "private room" where the high steaks were played (on the upper floor), no weapons were allowed. Bar fists. Amber sang there on and off. She was a reasonable singer, above average even. But her increasing use of alcohol had diminished her reliability and even, her performace. From what Justice could glean, she was getting increasingly erratic and desperate.

No problem. Thats kind of the default procedure here - its really impossible to keep track of "old sheets" in threads. For myself, I usually give the heads up if PL shifts just to alert the GM (it might mean a small shift in difficulty) - or when something really pertinent shuffles in the sheet (such as being an underwater thread and gaining immunity to drowning!)

Lament "Jutland, eh? A secret Cave, eh? Not so secret from the eyes of the King, it seems!" "I will indeed, O King! Tears should not be stolen!" a bit like Children...but this is probably the best way to solve that problem. Not the ideal way. But the best way. At least, that was what he told himself as he put on the seven league boots. "Secret Cave. Jutland. Yes indeed, I will stride there with most strideful striding!" he said, proudly, ginerly shuffling his feet. "However, if I may ask...how may I find the secret Cave? I fear it may be secret!" he asked, politely, with a big and humble bow.

GM "My wife?" replied Winchester. "I can't say we have the best relationship" he mused, thoughtful. "Speaking frankly, that is. She wanted children. I didn't. She drinks too much and spends too much, but....we have been together twenty years and she has been faithful" He mulled it over. "She doesn't know about my fling, either. And as far as I can see she is too...dependant on me to leave. If you speak to her, it would have to be most gentle. She can't suspect..." "That floozy, though. She could well be on it. Said her name was Delilah. Met her in a Jazz bar called the Bad Beat. She came on strong - too strong really - and we ended up at her place. Or at least, she said it was her place" he muttered. "I have no reason to trust her at all" he added, indicating that it was with her that her suspicions were most strong. "Three nights of carnal lust, a week ago. Then nothing. She doesn't want to see me anymore" he added, anger creeping into his voice. "What do I know of her? Other than she is hot, and likes Jazz, I couldn't say. We didn't do too much talking..."

GM Mr. Walker reddened at Voin's reply. "I..ah...I meant no offence, Miss" he blabbered. "Its a common enough saying, and us old folks don't always remember what to say and when to say it..." He wiped his brow. He was repentant, surely. He just had habits of speech. "I'm not sure who saw her past. She used to hang out at some ruin of a church in the hills. Spooky place. And this is spooky times, so consider that double spooky now. We need scooby do!" he chuckled, trying to make light of the situation. "The retired Vicar, Revd Root. He has the keys to the ruin. Not that you need then, its so full of holes. I think he tried to convert Morgen once. He didn't try again. But they did get friendly enough. I think she was using the Ruin to..camp...I guess!"

Snakebite The streams of time were getting very confusing. And she was hurt, tired, angry, and cursed. She wasn't thinking straight at all. She was lifting herself up, then lying down. Then...thank goodness...she was herself again. Whetever that meant. She stood up and dusted herself off. A ritual, almost, to focus her mind. And no, she couldn't see or smell the herbs here. Which was something in between a calamity and a disaster. Arguably, it was both. "I've got a bad feeling about this..." she said to "Isa "I don't suppose you know where those herbs went? Or can get some more?"

GM "Ill double them" said Winchester, clearly, in response to Caroline's rates. "How's that for negotiation?" He flipped a business card to her. TYRONE WINCHESTER Director AMERICAN DATA MAGAGEMENT Complete with contact details, including his mobile number. "I can't make you trust me. You don't know me" he said, astutely. "But, you can trust my wallet" he added, and pulled said item out. A day's advance was slammed on the table. "Trust the green. Maybe you will trust me in time. I'm not lying..." He say back, frowning. "The thing is...it's not just my wife. Its my reputation. If it gets out I am blackmailed when I deal in data security, it's a big blow. I don't like getting punched. Not without punching back..."

GM "Oh, Professor Phineas was a strange one. Influenced by that woman, Henrietta Wells" he sighed, lamenting the history. "He was experimenting with electricity for the purposes of inter-dimensional travel..." he started. "Now then Dean..." stepped in a thin, short man with a rather splendid moustache and rather dull clothes "...the Ministry of Extraordinary Affairs has quite clear rules on this matter. And discussing them in open..." The Dean did sober a little, but he was still drunk, and his tongue still wagged. "...Nonsense!" he mumbled. "Professor Phineas Ether was driven mad but his experiments. Probably sent his mind to a different dimension! He is of hardly any use to anyone, the poor soul. Rather deranged to begin with, but now his mind has veritably snapped" he explained. "We have at least kept him out Bedlam. Confined to his own quarters, as I said" This seemed to pacify the thin man, although there were certainly beady eyes and beady ears on the whole business. "I am not sure it is worth your time seeing Professor Ether, but he is certainly the man who used to know all about this electricity fad" he conceded. "Professor Ether...I saw him last time I was here..." hissed Zip. "He was the one I told you about. I showed him the dimensional hopper before!"

GM "Very well" said Zip, gingerly unclipping the dimensional hopper from his belt and cautiously offering it up for the Dean to examine. And examine it, the Dean did. He peered at it with his monocle, and made clucking devices. "Why, Sir! What I remarkable piece of engineering!" he said to Zip. "Your small stature obviously hides an intellect of the finest calibre! Come fellow, take a look at this!" The surrounding professors came to look at the hopper much to Zip's irritation. "Yes...yes...look...well I never!" The Dean took off his glasses from his nose. "Why, I would scarsely believe such technology was possible outside the very particular walls of this institute. I do believe sir, that it runs on Electricity!" he said dramatically. There was much gasping and awe amongs the professors. "A novel idea, surely" said one. "But electricity has no real practical applications in modern society! Why, only Professor Ether was ever foolish enough to think it might be of use!" "Or mad enough!" chortled another, to much qluiche like laughter. The Dean gave a little nod to Zip. "Why yes, electricity! What a clever little trinket you have there, Sir! Might even get you an undergraduate position!" he added. He gave Delta a more friendly smile. "Why, poor Professor Ether. Went quite mad with his experiments, you know. Confined to his laboratory now, under medical supervision. Had to be sedated. Quite heavily, I regret to say...."

GM "This morning" said Winchester. "I got something through the letterbox" He reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope. Inside, some photographs and a typed letter. Curiously, no demand. But "FOLLOW OUR INSTRUCTIONS TO FOLLOW. MUST BE COMPLETED BY DEC 26th" The photographs were more revealing and of a carnal nature - quite explicit. Mr. Winchester was fornicating with a young woman. "They got me" he grunted. He did not have shame, but rather frustration and being caught like this. "Whoever they are. I deal with...information, you see. Electronic information. Quite what they want...I don't know. But they have got me" he sighed. "And I dont want my wife seeing those...." he said, pointing to the photographs. "WHatever you need to stop this, you got it. My guess...they want something sensitive I have. Blackmail the blackmailer, you might say..."

GM "Why there, Mr. Goose! Pleasure to see you? Port?" rumbled the Dean. His breath was ripe with port, and it was fairly clear that he was either a superb actor or at least moderately drunk. "Not for Lunch, dear fellow!" said Mr. Goose politely with a smile. "Mr...Delta, was it? Why, what a splendid hat you have!" said the Dean happily. "I am always at the servce of a man with a hat like that!" He took out his reading glasses. "Well then, lets see your contraptiontamation!" he bumbled, keen to get on with demonstrating his mastery of concepts. "I am the Dean of astract concepts, my good fellow. I doubt there is something I cannot give my expert eye to!" he said proudly. Zip pulled at Delta's illusionary coat tails. "This buffoon is president of the royal society of buffoonery!" he hissed quietly. "I'm NOT giving a dimensional hopper into his fat fingers. He will break it!"

GM The attendent blinked, then blinked again. "Do forgive me sir. Quite a remarkable act of prestidigitation, if I may so Sir. Quite remarkable indeed" he said, level headed and impressed at the same time. "Indeed, why, I dare say even the Fellows of the Institute would have a hard time beating that!" chuckled Mr. Goose. And on this, everyone was quite agreed. Why, a little light applause circled around the entrance hall. "Let us find out, then!" said Mr. Goose, beckoning them into the luncheon hall. What splendour! For there was sparkling crystal glass around the walls and, yes, in the ceiling too. Strange plants from distant lands grew in the four corners, and a marvelous long table with white sheets, silver knives and forks, and twinkling chandeliers greeted them. Roast beef was being served, and many men (mainly old, mainly rotund, mainly white haired, but all most certainly well dressed discussed this and that. The science of this reality was obviously different, for it seemed that Steam was a hundred times, or more, more powerful than in their home reality, whilst electricity was erratic, and nuclear energy essentially unheard of. Yet, even despite these variables, it was clear that these were learned men. "May I suggest the associate Dean of Abstract Concepts?" suggested Mr. Goose. "Personal friend of mine. I play Bridge with him at the Royal Scientifics Society" he suggested, giving a subtle nod towards a red nosed elderly gentleman of generous girth who was pontificating with his colleauges on whether truth was non false, of falseness was not true.