Supercape

You may have been asking for medicine skill (as SB has JoT) in which case Ill take 10 for a 13 result (as per skill section)? But if an INT roll is needed...! INT / Medicine: 1d20+3 8

GM "Bah! Magical heroes? Dealing in black magic? Who do you suggest, I wonder? Eldritch? Nick Cimitiere? Phantom? Hah! None would touch what sustains me. Maybe you would rather I go to some foolish pretender like Rene DeSaens?" he mocked, full of bitterness. He continued shuffling, slow. Whatever other dark sorcery propelled him, his body remained weak. "I...." he paused. "Would not use children as a shield. I am would not inflict my curse on anybody, nay, even to save their life" he muttered. "My drive to survive is strong, and no doubt you dissaprove of much of what I have done to survive. But there are something I would not do" he said, more strongly. "I was a stage magician. Sleight of hand, deception, illusion. One of my greatest joys, despite my flawed character, was entertaining children. No, whatever black heart you think I have, and mayhap it is black, it would not turn so vile as to sacrifice a young life!"

GM "Its not wrong when I when I don't have a choice, is it?" asked Finnigan who had at least been listening to what Justice had to say. "I have to make a living somehow. Pay back the witch who cursed me. See if I can...somehow....rejoin the human race" he continued, earnestly. To emphasise his point, the illusion he had cloaked himself in dropped. In its place was the same rotting skeleton with wasted limbs and hanging skin. "But reverse this? No. If I simply reverse the curse, then I will be dead in a month. Maybe two. Unless someone miraculously has a cure for cancer...." He groaned. "uuuggh....I can feel it still, riddling my bones! A grinding pain...verily, tis most vexatious!" he grunted. "But despite it all, I will not relinquish my life! I do not wish to die, and in some way, I have immortality, as despicable as it is!" "I need the money to survive! To buy pain killers, to pay the underworld of occult warlocks and sorcerers! And yes, to understand the murk that clothes my skin. And to use it! I am determined, if nothing else! Maybe I need the horn of a unicorn. Maybe I need liquid moonlight! But whatever I need to master my condition, I will get it!"

Snakebite "At this point..." gasped Cassie, her energy depleted. "I don't think what we want comes into it...we cant let the beast loose on the world. " She pulled out the medical kit from their supplies, and started tending, as best she could to Neil. And herself. "Something's gone terribly wrong here. A corrupted sacrifice to the gods. The moon ghost, Kayara, she wanted to be sacrificed...but her slayer, maybe her lover, stabbed her in the back. If you pardon the pun...." She didn't like the look of Neils wounds, but he was at least alive. They both were. "Must have sent her crazy, and that beast down below probably just as mad, in its own way" she continued. "What I don't get, though, is how you are tied up to all of this" she asked, firmly. "Kayara, or the beast, or whatever we have here, they seem to have it in for you....why is that, I wonder?"

Im so sorry this thread slipped under my radar! I didnt realise I was up! Brain fart! Ill get onto it now!

GM "Why, would you have them in the light?" answered Finnigan. "I do not keep them in the shadows, I teach them how to use the shadows. The art of illusion, concealment. When you are societies junk, 'tis the shadows that are useful, and the light is but a pleasant threat. You are always insisting that I do this to the fingers. That I do that...." He sighed. A croaked, dark sigh. "It is you that inflicts your will on them. Not I. Do you see me point a gun at them? Hold a knife to their throat?" he asked, softly, almost whispering. He started circling aroung Justice, keeping to the shadows. As the sun set, it was hard to see him. "Tell me now, plainly, what do you intend to do with me?"

GM And as it happened, the spears went up. Not in salute, but it seemed quite clear that by destroying the leaf they had done some service. Something worthy of approval. Not that that maked them friends. They started bickering and discussing the destruction of the leaf for a moment, pondering what to do. Pointing spears at the sky, at Dust Devil, and into the jungle to the four corners of the compass. And, most emphatically, at the tunnel that lead back to the magic mesa. "Setho?" it was more a question now, less a demand - although it had a touch of iron to the words. The spear pointed everywhere now, its question implicit. Where is he?

GM "I didn't profess to be master of my fingers" replied Finnigan standing up slowly, to his full and exceptional height. Even now, whilst he looked human and had meat on his bones, he had a thin, beanpole like build. The old top hat he was wearing was augmenting his appearance considerably. It was a very tall top hat! "I persuaded them. I implored them. And, I believe I had partial influence, for they have stolen less. But I taught them to defy authority, and that includes, to some extent, mine own. I am not a tyrant, I am a teacher..." With the flick of the wrist, the coins appeared in his palm again. "I take a little for myself. You do not see me draped in velvet and gold, do you? You see no stacks of dollar bills? Just dimes and nickels in hand!"

Rev "Just? What do you mean just?" huffed Rev, finally managing to get oxygen into her lungs. Although she did feel like she had some rattling screws knocking about her lungs. In Rev's case, feeling like that could very well mean she had some screws loose. "I'm thirty eight!" she said, lying blatantly. "I et my vegetables and moisturise twice a day!" she explained, standing up tall and patting her rosy cheeks. "And if you think thats a load of wind, get a load of this!" She oustretched her right palm and span a vortex of air from her jets, hoping to blow the bejewelled crook right off his throne!

Standing on a platform eh? Time for some wind. Namely, Trip 10 Knockback extra, Area Line. Thats a DC 20 Reflex Save to cut it down to Trip 10 And then opposed (worse of Acrobatics/DEX/STR) vs Opposed Trip Roll: 1d20 3 Thats so bad, its time for a reroll spending an HP Reroll Opposed Trip: 1d10+10 11 as bad as you could get. Still, thats 21 if he does not make his Reflex save vs area, and 16 if he does (notwithstanding if he has the evasion feat)

GM "I have been resplendent...." said Finnigan, savouring every word and giving her a toothy smile. The coins in his hand glinted and clinked as he played with them. His fingers were long and nimble, noted Justice. He handled them with great dexterity. With a flick of his hand, they mysteriously dissapeared from view. A masterpiece of sleight of hand, presumably. Possibly magic. "And how have you been? Dispending Justice in your own...unilateral....manner, I presume? A gun on one hand, a bible in the other? Like the wild west cowboy, righting wrongs?" "Alas, I seem to be wronging rights...."

GM The building was predictably run down, and long-shadowed in the setting sun. It looked barely more stable than the other one that had collapsed with Justice's blaster and the Gas Man's gas. For now, at least, it seemed to hold up. Justice was silent and slow, her agility not in question. As she entered the building she saw no fingers, but Finnigan she saw. Dressed in his ragged suit, with a ragged hat, counting dimes and nickels in the light of dusk. His viisage now was of the slender tall man she had initially met - true, with an unusual physique, but not the appearance he had subsequently taken, that of skin and bones and little (if anything) else. "Good evening...." he said, without looking up, his voice raspy and faint. "I see in the dark and shadows quite well....Justice!"

Opposed by...Notice: 1d20+9 21!

You may wish to, if continuing the dialogue, make a diplomacy roll with the -4 penality for not speaking da lingo.

GM The three Lemurians seemed to recognise the leaf, that was for certain. They hauled up their mounts and pointed their spear-lances at the leaf. Their clicking vocal cords sounded agitated and demaning, their slithering language insistent and oiled. "Setho!" it came again. They seemed to associate the Leaf with Setho, for good or ill, one could not tell. Abdul piped up with a grim mutter. "Setho is considered a mad sorcerer by his kind. What that means, I could not say for I do not understand their culture. But he is quite unlike them. Maybe they revere him, maybe they despise him. But they certainly consider him mad...he has admitted as much!"

GM Both Orange and Green shrugged. Paranoia was, it seemed, one of those ground in personality traits, as far as they could tell. "He don't exactly speak about his past. Or his condition" they explained. "We always have trouble. One way or another" said Orange. "We even like trouble. At least its on our terms!" "Yeah! Screw ths system!" said Green, giving a rebellious fist to the air. Her T-Shirt said the same. Except it didn't use the word "Screw". "Look, if we wanted a lecture, we would be at the church. Or at school or something" complained Orange. "So blah blah blah, be a good member of society, blah blah blah, nine to five blah blah blah education!" "Blah blah blah" mimicked Green. "So good luck with Finnigan and...well, whatever you gonna do...." she added. "We ain't gonna stop you" shrugged Orange.

That is both reasonable and wise.

GM As the dinosaurs and their riders stumbled about, Mr. Sting and Abdul both seemed to lose their nerve. "This ain't Kansas" explained Mr. Sting, agitated. "Snakes and Scorpions are great, but Dinosaurs and lizard-men aren't so much. No poison here, as far as I can see. Plenty of teeth, though. I say we go back the way we came before we get eaten!" he blustered. Abdul was still holding his blood soaked shirt. "As great as the past is, they don't...have hospitals...." he muttered weakly. "I am a poet not a pragmatist. But even poets have to be pragmatic sometimes...." he explained. "Setho!" demanded the last Lemurian rider. It was hard to read the expression of a lizard-man, but he seemed angry, scared, and confused all at the same time....

GM The two young women nearly jumped out of their skin. It was that kind of night, that kind of street. In credit to them, they rallied quickly - perhaps to save face with each other. "Whoa! Don't jump up on us like that!" "The hero!" They paused, wondering what to say. Not for long, and not well either, for they rambled on, tongue loose with anxiety. "Because we are the Fingers! Finnigan's Fingers!" "Its best to work at night, anyway. People don't see you so good" All correct but vapid answers so far. "I guess that's just how Finnigan operates. He don't like the sunshine" was the more illuminating answer. "And, well, we just kind of fell in line with that. Finnigan helped us, but he is...ahhh...twitchy....paranoid...."

Snakebite Bullets...well, they might well be more effective than the Tranq-darts. Cassie was opposed to firearms, on the grounds that they could kill people (a quite reasonable proposition to her mind). But...better kill than be killed, and this beast was not exactly human. But she kept having the nagging sensation she was missing something....the heat of adrenaline, the danger, the darkness....she was missing something.... "Come on...we got to go...." she grunted, although their chances seem to constrict with every minute. She shuffled and tried to haul Neil out of the temple, her eyes on the beast, her ringed-finger twitching. It was surely the ring that was involved somehow...

GM "Look, we are better off since Finnigan came then before...." said Orange, who was the voice of relative reason. Relative reason. "Fair...." agreed Green, with a shudder. "You remember what things where like here? For us? For you?" "I remember" said Green, curtly. They both stared at the flames a while. "He's got our backs. We just need to lay off for a few more days. That's what he said" continued Orange. "We don't want heat. Remember that hero who came knocking?" "I remember" said Green again, although with less chill this time. "And that mercenary. You know, the Gas Guy" "Hmph" said Green with a little smile on his lips. "Finnigan needs us to stay in the shadows" "He needs to stay in the shadows. His condition...its pretty creepy to see. And it looks worse in the sunlight...."

GM The building was rather unstable, like practically every building in Trumble street. It was also dark, but this only ensured that the fire in a drum in the centre of the building was easily visible, whereas Justice was not. (How oft Justice is invisible!) And around the fire huddled two women with very familiar hair. Namely, orange and green! The same two pickpockets that had, three days ago, tried to pick pocket Justice! "Can't keep going like this. What does Finnigan expect us to do?" muttered the first. "Cut down...he says. Just for a little while....he says. Sure. I mean, I get he taught us how to do the job. But whats the point in teaching us if he is just going to tell us to stop doing it..." muttered the second, more angrily. "Cut down. Not stop..." corrected the first. "Whatever" sighed the second, warming her hands and nimble fingers on the fire.

That hits! Post your attack IC!

GM And from the jungle, from the vines and trees and bushes and wonderfully green landscape... Burst three dinosaurs! Only an expert paleantologist could guess at their species. They were about the size of a horse, jumping around on two legs, with claws and teeth and scales. Ferocious indeed! But even more remarkably, ontop of them rode three riders! Like humanoid snakes they were, just as Setho had been under his cowl. Black eyes, scaled skin, holding wickedly barbed spears as if they were knights on horseback with mighty lances. And into the cloud of venom they rushed. One had enough speed to rush straight through without inhaling the fumes. The other two, behind, were not so lucky, and started stumbling around quite perplexed. The two riders ontop of unfortunate beasts started screaming and clicking their strange vocal cords. The faster leader, whose sanity appeared intact, shrieked something ununderstandable in his (or possibly her) native tongue. Slimy, oily, and incomprehensible was his words. Although one could be made out on several occassions. Setho....Setho...Setho....

Which means saves vs Fort 10 Lazy Reflex Saves: 6#1d20 15 13 20 10 10 7 With reflex bonuses and +5 situational that makes 24, 22, 29 for the Dinos (all made) and all the Lemurians fail. So, onto the fort saves Lazy Fort Saves: 6#1d20 19 3 4 20 10 9 Making 25, 9 and 10 for the Dinos (one pass, two fails) and funnily enough the first Rider makes the save first. Ill delay rolling confuse effects for one second - lets see what happens IC first, although they are effectively incapacitated a moment (and probably longer!)