Supercape

Snakebite Cassie felt the claw and then, in a blink, she was thrown away and winded. It's too strong! Too fast! But that wasn't he type of thinking that would keep her alive. Even if it was true. Instead, she kept focussed - they had some AK-47s (or something like that) and, much as she hated guns, she would have quite happily unleased a full clip on the beast that moment. She was bleeding and hurt but she had survived worse. Quite recently, even. "<Ill survive>" she told Isa. "<But we got to get those herbs. We have to finish the ceremony tonight! Or well will all be worm food!>" she said, insistently. There was no point sugar coating it. They could perhaps fight it off. But they would be chewed up and spat out sooner or later. "<Lets get back. And fast....!>"

Tough Save: 1d20+6 15 fail by 9 so bruise (or injured and bruised?) and dazed, not that the latter matters! It does not bother me, but normal operating procedure tends to be to post rolls of the NPCs, just as a heads up. Again, it doesn't bother me one way or another!

GM There was certainly plenty of chatter at The Green Bard and his Jolly Pipes, a warm and cozy Welsh pub. Some of the chatter was in Welsh, but there was plenty too in English. Morgen, it seemed, was the talk of the village, and had been for some time. She had strolled in wearing nothing but her birthday suit and had that impressive scar over her face, with one blind sightless eye. At least, conventionally sightless. She did of course, like Odin, burn out her own eye to gain wisdom. Mr. Dafyd Walker was a farmer round here of some years and more respect. He had one the village "Best beard" competition for ten years in a row now, and a splendid grey thing it was. He took it upon himself to talk to Dreadnought and Voin, althoughough of course with Dreadnought there was plenty of excitement about the giant. Some local history types even recounted a long forgotten Myth about a giant from Liverpool mentioned over a century ago. "Well know, shes a queer one. A witch, say some! But queer, all the same. She weren't too friendly, boyo, but she weren't nasty either. I dare say a few of the younger lads took a bit of a shine to a woman walking into town like that, even with that scar" he said, with a little chortle. "Went up to the hills, kept herself to herself, for the most part. Still, with all the queer goings on round here, dark spirits, more than a few have said she is to blame!"

GM "Because you would not...let....me....die!" responded Setho. It was so hard to read his stone like reptilian face. What emotion was he feeling? Fear? "...you think in such...limited ways....time....space....as if it is a river....when in fact....it is chaos!" he explained. "....which ending...will happen....? I know....for I have already forseen!" he said. Whatever emotion he felt, he certainly sounded mad. And the time for a decision was now. For the Lemurians advanced behind the Dust Devil and Venomax. They were intent on impaling Setho several times, and several times more just to be sure. And the points of those spears poked at the Dust Devil and Venomax, who where getting in the way!

GM The rock crashed on Setho's head, almost cracking from the force. It was a miracle that Setho's skull was on cave in - but he was clearly made from more than flesh and blood. His fibre was perfused with eldritch armour! Even so, he slumped to one side, and green blood oozed from the gash on his head. His robes slowly stained. The Lemurians squarked and hissed. They crept forward. With every intent on spearing Setho to death! "Save me!" hissed Setho quietly...

So I am going to say thats an improvised weapon (+2 damage), and a critical too! For a total of +11 (or DC 26) Tough vs Rock: 1d20+8 20 Another bruise, and daze lock! Let us pause combat a moment, as Setho is all but done! Dust Devil - 3 HP VMX - Unharmed - 1 HP Setho - Staggered, Bruised x2

Edited, TA Lament 23 PP to spend, only spending 15 1 PP: Stats Add +1 to CHA to make it 25. No other effect but is just cool. 1 PP: Saves Add +1 to Reflex to make it +10 (+3 Dex, +7) 12 PP: Skills to make a total of 160 Ranks = 40PP For ease, I have redone this as a block, thusly: 1 PP Feats: Skill Mastery increased to 2 (Adding Escape Artist, Sleight of Hand, Stealth, and Perform (Dance) Add Favoured Environment [The Stage] Remove Trance Feat

GM The nearest village was a slow but not unpleasant drives away. There was music, conversation, and whilst it was night and the snow was all around, the truck and Sari handled the weather fine. There was almost no traffic at all, and one could almost get hypnotised by the journey. But hypnotised they were not, for the Sleeper - probably - had not taken over Sari. After an hour or so, they reached a small village. No more than a few houses, insulated against the cold, but they did at least have a small winter sports - themed hotel, and there was food and water. "<I'm headed towards the border. About half an hour from here, I think>" he explained. He gave a friendly, almost knowing smile. "<And....about three or four hours by foot. If...you are heading to Moscow. Although I don't know why you would want to go there. Finland is much more friendly!>" he laughed.

Lament "I thought as much!" replied Lament. "Why, how irksome it must be! Verily, it is a travesty for any such tragedy to diminish the full spectrum of your glorious palate!" he declared. Whatever that means. But it sounds fantastic! "Then, O King, we must to action ride! Please allow me to offer my aide in such a worthy quest!" he said, bowing again. "My skills and wit are legendary, my power dark and mysterious! Surely so perceptive a King as your good self has noted that not any mere mortal could find their way to your melodic abode?" he questioned, but did not wait for answer. "Nay! I am to this course both determined and set! We must, in order to find your tears, find first who stole them!" he declared. "Parchment, Quill! For detective work is called for!" he said, waving around vaguely at the minions of the King indicating that Parchment and Quill would most certainly be vital components for solving the mystery. "Let us put minds to task, just as the great Sherlock of Holmes did in the street of Baker, as I am sure you are familiar with, O King!" he said, bowing greatly. "Alas that he is not of this earth today, but, let us make use of his method. Deduction!" "And, great King, deduction starts with facts! Tell me - when did you last have your tears?"

This definately feels more like a bluff - he is professing great skill andknowledge where he has none! Bluff: 1d20+15 34

GM "What am I, Blowfish expert?" asked Kidd. But for once, the Wall piped up. "I think I know a girl. A singer called Amber. Used to hang outo with Blowfish back in Bedlam. Except last year, she came down to Mexico. Drunk. But the Mexican cartels, they got her to talk about Blowfish" he explained. "If you can find her, she knows plenty. Might be a bit out of date, but she know plenty" he explained. "And she told plenty to the Mexican cartels, too. Guy down there called El Sierpe, big voodoo man" he said, actually shuderring at the thought. "If you fancy asking Mexican crime bosses, he probably knows plenty too..." "....I wouldn't advise it" said Kidd, firmly. "If we can get our hands on his accountant, that might be good. But he's banged up tight, real tight. Some fortress out of town, a few miles south. Plenty of guards and security systems. And, ah, won't be legal...."

Lament "Simple I may be...." agreed Lament, for he really was out of his depth here. Not that he would fully admit it, not even to himself. "But perhaps I can be of assistance!" he said boldly. "If another path you seek, then I offer to seek it for you!" he said, committing himself to who knew what? "Do you say then, that it is not the tears of these children you desire, but your own? You miss the tears of melancholia? of joy? of bittersweet grief?" he asked, inquisitively. "Are you saying you can no longer weep?"

GM The Wall shrugged. "My fists?" Yes indeed, strong of body, but not of mind, it seemed. Kidd was no genius, but he was no fool either. He had a streak of cunning and years of experience. "It will have to be out in the open. Maybe we can even use that idiot Jack Jackson" he started. "But we still need something to hit him with. Something that will rattle him" "As far as I can see, we either need someone to squeal or we need some of the under the table deals in writing. Even shady stuff like his needs a paper trail of monies and the like he no doubt has locked up somewhere....that would be the gold mine, but I doubt we will get a warrant for it" he said. "So that will need some breaking and entering..." A final thought struck him. "Other than that, I guess we could plow one of his broads for information. He has a few floozies on each arm, to make himself feel manly..."

Snakebite "<Bring all the guns you can get, say I>" replied Cassie, slowly pulling out her whip and advancing to within a dozen feet of the hut the beast hd crawled under. "<This night is going to be bloody, but we will prevail>" she said, firmly. There was no use sugar coating the pill, nor was there any value in giving ridiculous assurances - they would look foolish and implausible. "<But I think we will only, at the end, prevail if we can get those herbs and complete the ceremony>" she said, firmly. "<We must make haste...even if we pin this creature down, even if we make it flee, the only way to end it for good is the ceremony. And the only time we can complete it is tonight!>" And in the meantime, if it moved, she would try to flay its skin!

It sounds like a brief pause in the fight, but Cassie will pull out her whip (move action) and ready a standard action - to whip it if it jumps out (again shifting +2 defence, -2 attack)

GM Gauss flew out from the still moving monorail carriage. Its emergency protocols would keep it moving until the next stop unless there was some disruption on the line itself. Although, as she could see, there was a disruption of sorts. The metal armed man was using his incredible cybernetic to ride the line. Still holding his struggling victim (Who was admittedly clinging on for dear life), there was a clear electro-magnetic line between the cybernetic arm and the monorail line. The kidnapper was floating in the air above the line - and more - he was flying along it at breakneck speed!

Lament Lament's eyes grew dark. "Then tell me, oh Great King" he said, so softly it could almost not be heard. "Why are the tears of children yours? They did not fall from your eyes, did they?" he said. His voice soft and terrible. The King might know, if was wise, that there was something inside Lament that was no fool, no helpless minion, and probably not mortal either. "Tell me why they are yours, or you are no King, but a thief!" he said, boldly now.

GM On this, the Wall seemed to agree. He was a big, intimidating man, and obviously had something about him. But he was a blunt tool. A sledgehammer when you needed a scalpel. Kidd chewed his lip. "I could do it, but the thing is, Blowfish knows me" he conceded. "Maybe thats a good thing, but maybe not. He will know when I am trying to taunt him. Be on guard" he said. "What I'm saying is, that scum has got my number" It was a hard thing to admit, but he did it. He took his vexation out by carressing his shotgun again. "Damn it, what I would give to blow that crook's brains out!" he said, vehemently. On this, the Wall and the Mexicans agreed.

Could you throw me a Knowledge [Behavioural Sciences] Check? DC 15 will give you +2 bonus in taunting later, DC 20 will give you a +5 bonus.

We can scratch that HP use as it is suitably heroic - therefore, no net cost. Thats enough for DC 10 Diagnosis, and as far as you can see she has no serious injuries. A concussion maybe, and would need the normal hospital check up / head scan, but not in need of imminate medical care.

Lament The children! Surely! Now, this King was beginning to look like quite the rascal. Child-napping? along with his ego and vanity! How Lament despised the vain! Oh, what contemp for the ego! Why, he said so every day to the mirror when putting on his make up. And yet, the time for violence was not quite here. Mayhap the mystery had another layer or two! "You are known for your most merciful mercy, and your most hospitable hospitality!" said Lament. "Why, I am sure songs are sung from here to the hut of Baba-Yaga! From the depths of Atlantis, to the Lunar Halls of Mister Moon!" he waffled, wondering, after he said it, what exactly the Lunar Halls of Mister Moon where. Never mind, it sounds good! "I would seek song, dance, the beat of the drum, the flow of the wine, and merry making. Ah, these are the pleasures of life, are they not? And how sweet they would be were they accompanied by the frolic of gay children!" he sighed.

GM Kidd smiled. "You know why he's called blowfish?. He got a tic. When he gets angry, or scared, his cheecks pucker in and out, like a frog or something" he said. "Nobody dares pick him up on it. In fact, some say he does it on purpose at times to frighten people, like when he's asking them questions and happening to have a blowtorch and claw hammer right next to him" "Thing is, he's been known to lose his cool when people taunt him about it. And normally, he's a cool customer" he explained. "If he's ever going to make a slip, its when he's taunted about his tic..." Kidd grinned nastily. "I mean, I hate to make fun of a spastic..." he said, although he didn't at all look like the kind of guy who would mind at all "...but that's his weak point....psychologically!" The Wall snarled. "We do want we need to..." he said, bluntly and clearly.

GM The large man looked at the beaten man, full of nosebleed, that he had in his grasp. He genuinely looked torn. "Damn my luck. Damn that lion" he muttered. He turned towards Gauss. "I'm sorry, kid. I'm not a bad man. Just had bad luck, and ended up on a bad road I can't turn from now" he explained. He clenched both hands, both flesh and metal. "This guy has something I need to pay back a debt. He's a worse crook than me, I can tell you that" he added defianly. Then, with a burst of speed and strength, and still carrying his victim, he jumped out of the Monorail cart, through the broken glass that tinkled and shattered. Outside, Gauss saw the most extraordinary. His metal arm had split into three separate arms - all slender, but still strong and capable. One still held the beaten man. The other two - some electro-magnetic field, some line of wobbling energy - was linking his arms and the monorail line, keeping him suspended in mid-air, above the traffice and gawping onlookers below!

GM Detective Wu walked in, more nervous than either he would have liked or would he have expected. Club Immortus was a mysterious place, but the presence of that cold made him on edge. "The Chinese government appreciates your cooperation" Wu said politely, implying that it was not just appreciation but requirement. Wu fought back the urge to say Comrade to Frost....Russians aren't communists now, are they? Sonny Cho gave a polite bow to Wu. "Detective Wu, how can we be of assistance?" Det Wu turned to Cho. "Actually, I came to speak to you" he said, although he glanced his eyes to Tsunami and Frost as he did so. "We are part of an international effort to track down some energy weapons that we have reason to believe have been smuggled in from Cairo" he explained, succinctly and accurately. "This is the Scarab, a scientific expert appointed by W.E.S.T, the World Exotic Science Taskforce" Wu added, feeling grateful there was some international clout here, at least by appearances. As far as he understood it, WEST hd few actual teeth. "Which should tell you that this is serious, Cho. And I know that you know more that happens on the streets of Hong Kong than anybody else..." Wu conceded, although there was an edge to his compliment. Cho looked at Frost and Tsunami. "I think it must be the Hornet" Cho replied. "And I think thats what you think to. We would all love to help" he said, looking at Frost and Tsunami again. "Finding him, and the weapons, will not be easy, but I hear the Docks would be a good place to start. A very good place..." continued Cho, remembering how Dreadnought, Voin and Frost had parleyed with him there last time they were in Hong Kong.

Echohead Echohead gently stepped into Randall's head and, like a psychic photocopier, moved the echo into his head (appropriately enough, given his name). He felt the wealth of scientific and practical knowledge full his neurones. Although he was still seized by the realisation that this was SPACE! and all the horrible things hard vaccuum did to a body. ...he wouldn't be piloting the ship, that was for sure. Even he might know how to, technically, his hands would be shaking too hard... He got into the ship trying hard not too think about all the new things he had learned. But still, he found his palms sweaty, and his forehead doubly so. "Lets just get there without dying" he said, crossing his chest and gazing to the heavens in prayer.