Supercape

GM Abdul, for his part, was too busy bleeding slowly to protest further. At least the poison had not killed him, thanks to Venomax's intervention. Mr. Sting was mildly irritated about the incomplete nature of his vengeance. The subsequent events had somewhat taken precendence in his mind. "Did you see that?" he asked quite redundantly. "I never saw such a feast of poison!" he said, shaking with excitement. "No wonder the scorpions grow so big. Did you see those snakes?" he asked, again, quite redundantly. He paused to wipe his brow with tremulous hand. "But I didn't fancy being stung to death. That would be my way to go, if I had to choose. But I'd rather not quite die yet". He surveyed the dark tunnel they were in. "Lets get to big Mama" he suggested, pointing down the tunnel to what was, hopefully, his shack...

GM "Return what I stole?" replied Finnigan, irritated at the suggestion. "...firstly, it was not I who stole, it was my fingers, and they have nothing but their gains, ill-gotten though they may be" he said, firmly. "You are welcome to ask them...I doubt they will give you the answer you hope for" He drew away his hand, colder in tone. "Secondly, bar the thefts of the day, we are likely not to have what we stole. They have been sold" he explained. "I take my cut, of course, but all the money I gather is spent on a cure. I have some left, but I will not part with it, not for all your promises" he said, equally as firm. "Your words are kind, but I cannot trust your intent. And even if your intent is charitable, it does not mean that charity will blossom. And even if charity blossoms, it does not mean that it will be effective" he reasoned. "My request to you is simple. Leave me alone, and keep the Gas Man away from me. You may think I am a noxious beast, but he is a callous man, and of the two, it is the latter that is more frightful!"

Not about Setho in particular - that is ancient history and well concealed. However, it is enough to know that Lemuria was an ancient prehistoric kingdom of the snake people, and plenty of them were (and are) sorcerers, and in fact shape shifters (morph!)

Notice Roll: 1d20+4 11 ?

He seems sincere enough

Rev Rev wasn't so lucky this time. The blade sliced into her rib cage, which was more bone than metal. Such was the patchwork nature of the mechaphage's work on her body. Under her skin, layers of titanium fibre and steel plate. But still, the blade was forceful enough to rend metal, and she felt herself buckle under the force. In her head, she heard the sound of splintered bone. She hoped it was just her imagination, but by golly - it hurt like an electric shock. She hoped it was her imagination. It probably wasn't. The force of the blow sent her spinning flying, and she landed unceremonially on her face. "That...all you got?" she said, finding it hard to get her lungs going.

GM It was now pitch black...or near enough. Justice could feel that horribly thin hand take hers and start to lead her through the warrens. And not a moment too soon. She could hear the building they had been in collapse. "I'm a cursed man" muttered Finnigan. "I did not want to die, and once medicine failed me, I turned to sorcery. Perhaps I should not complain, for I am alive - of sorts - when I should be dead. But I am wasted and spent. In the darkness I am at least free. In sunlight, I am as feeble as you could imagine" he said, voice stronger than it had been before, as if the darkness was emboldening him. Perhaps with some reason, for Finnigan seemed to have no problem seeing in the dark. "I seek to...improve...my situation. It is true that I have cultivated the talents of my fingers, but I do not wish any death. No...that would be prime hypocricy, given my own obsession with living" he explained. They were safely out of the collapsed building now. It seemed - from the smell - that they were back in the abandoned sewers beneath Trumble street. "Now then...I have lead you to safety, and, if you wish, I can take you out of these filthy tunnels. Tell me - what do you intend now?" he asked, cautiously.

Tough Save: 1d20+10 13 for the laughs, ill roll with that, taking bruise, staggered, dazed! (and knocked back, come to that!)

Mr. Murk Mr. Murk sat back, not looking at the book, for his eyes were white and blind. No, not looking. But he listened to the most pleasing sound of quill scratching against old paper. He could even hear the sound of quill being dipped in ink well. And it was most pleasing to him. A broad smile split his face. "Then it is done. I hope you shall never need the protection of the Codus Immortus...but never is an awfully long time for an immortal" he summised. "And if...or when....you do, then its protection you shall recieve" he added warmly. "And do feel free to visit the clubs, anywhere there is one. Hong Kong, Freedom City, Cairo, Rio, Paris, and London, as well as here. Each with their own flavour, all sanctuary and welcome" And with that, he doffed his hat. ~ Fin ~

GM "The Fingers? Not long, no not long at all. The blink of an eye!" said a confident Finnigan. "They know Trumble street like the back of their hand!" There was a loud sound as a massive chunk of masonry clattered to the ground. Bricks and dust everywhere. "And speaking of hand...." continued Finnigan, as the shadows started turning to pitch black, and the dust entered their little crack. "...I offer you mine. If you want to leave this place alive!" he said, offering his hand - although it was hard to see in the almost complete darkness (perhaps fortituously, as it was a withered and leathery collection of skin and bones). "...I have no wish to see anyone die, not even you. And if I do you a good deed, perhaps you will see me as more man than monster!"

Rev The blade struck Rev right in the chest. She looked at for a moment, wondering how she had let that happen. Yet no fountain of arterial blood was loosed on the streets. No palid skin from blood loss. No tension pneumothorax causing a death rattle breathing. No! For the blade had struck precisely in her sternum, where in lay a titanium-steel chamber. Clink "And they call me heartless" quipped Rev. With a little burst of jets from her feet, she flipped right over the golden man's head, spun around, her right palm outwards. A jet of blue-purple plasma cut through the air, straight at the man who had just tried to stab her!

Toughness Save vs Gold: 1d20+10 13 thats a little too early to get busted up so badly, so I will spend an HP and reroll that: Tough Reroll: 1d10+20 29 meaning she takes it! So this time, Rev will try an acrobatic feint as a move action (-5 penalty) Move action acrobatic feint: 1d20+6 22 And as a standard action, a Plasma Jet! Plasma Jet Attack: 1d20+14 25 which I guess hits with or without the feint success. Thats a Corrosion 6 effect (i.e. Fort Save DC 16 vs Drain Toughness 6, and Toughness Save DC 16 vs damage)

GM This blast of wind and sand was even more effective than the first. The swarm of poisonous creatures had already been decimated, and now they were finished. Whilst dangerous as a group, the creatures were small or tiny - unfit to resist the devil's storm. Setho had an unleashed his giant beasts, and they had been defeated. And now, his tiny pawns had been crushed too. Mr. Sting was still slapping off insects and goo from his skin. It looked like he might be bitten a few places, by various resilient insects, but overall he seemed in fair shape. "We gotta get to Big Mama!" he pleaded. "I'm gonna get you..." mumbled Adbul, still holding his bleeding stomach.

I think that will clear you a nice neat path! in fact, there will be precious few of the poisonous creatures still concious (or even arguably alive!) Threat over!

I forgot to post here! COuld you throw a DC 15 Fort Save vs Fatigue effect!

Starshot "Its not the best odds, but we will have to do with what we have" replied Starshot, acknowledging the point gruffly. Doubt would be a disease they could ill afford. He turned to Emorda. "We should indeed. It is only...polite" he answered. "And a great victory it was. Worthy of celebration!" Polite it was, but also, perhaps, valuable. A little celebration of well earned victory was in order. Everything had been to rushed in the desert. Time, at least, was (probably) on their side. "And maybe there is wisdom and insight to be gained from your father. Those stories would be good to hear..." A little detour before the scouting, then. And time to set the grav drives towards the forest!

Snakebite "That was a mistake" said Cassie, angrily. "You shoot at something, they have a tendency to shoot back" She couldn't be too angry. Nerves where shredded and adrenaline was in the air. Fingers could twitch all too easily. But...under the initial anger, she had a thought. How well did she know Neil? Maybe he was the defiler, the thief...the murderer? She would have to watch her back now. As well as everything else. Keeping her suspicions close, for now, she stepped forward and went to examine the body. If it was even dead....

If so, who wants to invite RL's PC?

NOtice check: 1d20+15 24 ?

GM Yasser spoke. Well, in fact he shouted. He was deaf, and unused to this condition - and thus quite unable to modulate the volume of his voice. "WHO ARE YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" In fact, he might well have shouted even if he was not deaf. He was torn between grief at the destruction of the holy (corrupted, appropriately) daka crystal and fury at the universe for said destruction. His hands crackled with energy. The Scarab could clearly see Yasser had been infused with vast amounts of Daka power. Even his eyes glowed. "SPEAK NOW! OR BY ALLAH I SHALL BLAST YOU TO A THOUSAND HELLS!"

As discussed in chat, this means that the Scarab has first shot in this mexican stand off! (if it comes to that!)

Edited, TA Mr. Murk Some errors have crept into the sheet, I think - in the powers section, which should add up to 77PP. This leaves 6 extra PP to spend (as well as 5 PP from Nov Reward = 11 PP) So, Power Level should, with edits below, now be 10/13 (233/338) and Unspent Power Points: 5 Powers Comprehend should be 5 PP, not 2 (correct on comprehend listing, not on power total) Command word array should have Alt Power 3, making it 29 PP Thus, total powers should be 5 + 29 + 3 + 8 + 1 + 1 + 22 + 8 = 77 Spending 6 PP Increase Comprehend 1 rank - adding read all languages (now that he can via mental super sense) [2 PP] Increases Super Senses by 4 ranks - adding mental detect divine, and adding ranged to that [4 PP] Finally, one small adjustments to the Command Word Array: Making Illusion sustained duration, and adding selective (same cost) This should make new power cost 7 + 29 + 3 + 8 + 1 + 26 + 8 = 83 Below: the bottom of the sheet (as DC block also needs correcting)

Edited, TA Snakebite 21 PP to Spend. Spending 18. Mainly changing Tranq gun from equipment to Device. Added some fluff about being expert in South American Martial Arts (Capoeira, BJJ) Skills 2 PP 4 Ranks of Acrobatics to make 8 (+14) 4 Ranks of Perform (Dance) to make 4 (+7) Feats: 1 PP and some changes Losing 4 Ranks of Equipment, and the Tranq Gun. This should leave her with 2 Ranks of Equipment, 10 EP, enough to keep the Whip, GPS, and Rebreather, with 2 EP spare. Gaining the Feats: Acrobatic Bluff Chokehold Elusive Target Improved Pin Prone Fighting Powers 15 New Device: Device 5 (25 DP Flaws: Easy to Lose) “Tranq Pistol” Fatigue 6 (Extras: Poison, Range, Feats: Subtle) [25 DP]

GM Mr Sting went limp as the goo hit him, sagging to his knees. "What the...hell...is....this...." he grunted, trying to smear the chemicals off him. His lips felt like rubber, and his jaw sagged. His tongue lolled from side to side almost uselessly. But he did not fall...not quite. The first wave of insects - the fastests one who flew and jumped, did not fare so well. Tiny creatures with tiny constitutions, diving into a sea of paralytic poison. They went limp and fell of him. "Big Mama....big mama....." he mumbled, remembering his foster mother. Mr. Sting didn't care much for nobody, it seemed. Except big Mama. "I...gotta get Big Mama. She don't deserve none of this...." he said, more determined, standing up and staggering after Venomax and Abdul. The wave of poisonous creatures was close behind him, and catching up... "I will have to use...other methods then...." hissed Setho. And then, he vanished....

A most excellent thinking! Fort Save vs Paralysis: 1d20+7 20 which, lamentably...just fails! Given the razor edge fail, and it was a nifty idea, ill fluff that some of the insects on him get paralysed. The rest, as per IC.