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Freedom City Guidebook
Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide
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Everything posted by Supercape
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GM "<You sure don't look like someone Farouk would send>" grumbled one of the men. All three pointed there strange weapons (unbenknownst to them, quite inhibited) at the Scarab. "<You look like someone going to get blasted!>" laughed another man. "<So you better tell us who you really are...and...err...we won't kill you very much!>" he said, clumsily presenting what could only be described as a really bad deal. Which didn't make any sense. That said, the men pointed there guns and looked tough. Scarab got the sense that they probably were tough. Ex-military, possibly. Not your average thug, certainly. But still not employed from smarts....
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For narrative purposes we can waive that. He is tripped!
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GM "I feel safer locked in a steel fortress in Freedom City patrolled by impervium weave defender bots with Vorpal laser swords" he ansered, wringing his hands. "But I guess you aren't offering that option" he lamented. "Well, up here it is then! I don't like violence. Or being around violence. Being around violence raises the risk of violence being done to you. Accidentally or otherwise. I find pain rather painful. I don't really fancy it" he pleased. Before falling to his knees and grabbing onto one of the Scarabs Shin in a plea. "Don't let me die!" he wailed.
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Snakebite "It will be a pleasure to have your company" replied Cassie, thinking an interpreter would be most handy. Arabic and English might do at times, but a native speaker was far superior. "Ill take a look, Doctor Ritterton" she said, holding on to the map case. With a day or so before the flight, her time was spent studying the case, and looking through the records of the British Library. She had never heard of this island, but you never know, obscure references and myths might now be less obscure and more real with this new information. Of course, the world was aflood (no pun intended) with myths of sunken islands and sunken cities, and getting to grips with the truth was a tough business. But you never knew...
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Cassie will take 20 on history knowledge for 35, see if she can find any obscure references to myths and legens about the island in the British Library!
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ooc for this The normal slightly jarring railroading, apologies. Feel free to narrate whatever entry you want (within reason!). Broadly speaking, Goss has been called down by WESt as per IC. Queenie just gets mixed up in mad science and is down there as celebrity chef (or however you want!)
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GM Sept 1st, Redhill It was a moderate sized southern town that bathed in sunshine. It could feel too hot mid summer, but the blaze had cooled a little and the friendly Texan town was now enjoying great weather. It was not a remarkable town, except for its annual Barbeque championships, where the finest chefs of the South congregated to explore new flavours, meats, and flames. Do not be mislead - this was world class cuisine despite its narrow remit. And it was not even as narrow as one might imagine. The cooking blended in from around the world. Indonesian, Nepalese, and Thia flavours and recipes permeated the event, and every possible variation and twist on the theme was not only allowed, but encouraged. And of course, Queenie was there. Being hounded by Mr Vernon Salt, a man of immense girth and considerable sweat, who fancied himself the second best BBQ chef in Texas. And wanted to be the first. "Please, give me a pointer!" "Just a little hint!" "Show me how to do it!" and other refrains bubbled from his bubbly lips. This was pointed out by Ms. Samantha Pepper, agent of W.E.S.T, to Gossamer. "Thanks for coming, Ma'am" she said to Gossamer. "I know it was all a bit of a rush and you didn't get fully briefed" she started. "Doctor North requested your presence and probably gave you half the picture..." she added, almost apolegetically. Sam Pepper was a tall blond woman with clear blue eyes and a functional business suit. Her pretty face had a badly broken nose and her voice had a nasal quality. Texan, through and through, but educated, too. "World Exoctic Science Taskforce. Brand new. Logistical Nightmare. No official authority here" she explained. "But we have had some unusual chemical readings here. Nothing hazardous. Odd organic chemicals. We haven't had a chance to analyse properly, but the potential is there for self-replicating molecules. Grey Goo Scenario..."
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If that drops the concealment, then I guess the readied action from Echohead kicks in? If so - Blasts: 1d20+10 17 on the attack roll which I guess is a miss (although its a DC 21 Tough Save if not!)
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GM The splinters of ice and ember blossomed once again. Morgen actually raised her eyes. "No! It cannot be! This blade is forged from matter immaterial! From the Gods of the sky! From the Beating of my heart! It cannot be broken..." And yet, for a moment, it seemed it might. But, crumbling as it did, it held true. "Yes! I admire your strength, Frost man! But my strength is greater!" And then, with a full blown, fury driven thrust, she brought the blade straight into the centre of Frost....
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- voin zhenshchina
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Stabs Frost ish: 1d20+10 30 Oh lord. And yes, Affects Insub 2 on the magic blade! So that is a critical and thus a DC 30 Tough Damage effect and DC 25Will Fatigue effect. Sorry! And Voin is up!
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GM One hurried car ride later. Simmons drove. He was an elegant man in his late twenties. Clean shaven, dark haired, square jawed. A bright computer graduate with an adventurous streak. He had a slightly spindly frame, with his suit hanging off him, but as North explained, WEST recruited for brains rather than brawn. There were already signs of traffic congestion if one looked out for them. And the trip took longer than it should, even with North making frantic calls to FCPD and Simmons mounting more than one curb, rushing more than one red light. As it happened, the FC Traffic Dept was in central Downtown, in a rather drab building of poor design. More concrete than brick. Still, it would, one imagine, be a sturdy building if subjected to attack. Through some rather mediocre security (North had pulled strings to get them hand waved), the three of them descended into the heart of the building - the basement - where the quantum computer was sat. Connected to a thousand cables, it blinked quietly in a cool room, humming away. A large upright box, a bit like a cola vending machine, except all sleek and black...
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An unfortunately good roll: Crash of swords: 1d20+6 23 although enough for the Ember sword to be injured (now tough 5)
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GM "Sure? I'm not sure of anything!" blabbered North before forcing himself to calmness. "Apologies. This is stressful. WEST is new, and we cant afford a botch now. Hell, we can't afford a botch any time. But particularly not now" he explained. "I have our field agent, Simmons, working on the case. He knows computers, thats his speciality, but look - he is just a field agent. Not a true expert. Our agents are somewhat jack of all trades, master of none. Which is what we need for field agents investigating the oddities. He thinks its a human hacker. But...well. He might be right, might be wrong..." he explained, pressing down his moustache. "What he does no, for pretty sure, is that the traffic controlling AI is active. And...well. Some idiot at ASTRO labs coded it to "Avoid traffic flow problems". That was its drive. And now, we are thinking there is a simple solution to that. No traffic flow at all. Crash a few cars. Or a truck loaded with nuclear material. Or a hundered other things. CIty could become gridlocked...." "FC traffic control are already noting major peculiarities. We wanted to pull the plug...but the AI may well be paranoid...." He looked at Replica with firm desperation. "Look, I am out of my depth. So is Simmons. And the clock is ticking..."
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Ill take 10 with SM and get 20!
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Starshot "He's getting away!" started Starhot, as the HUD of his helmet fizzed. WARNING POWER LEVELS CRITICAL "Perfect timing" he grunted, unclipping his helmet and throwing it to one side as the last trilithium battery faded. He clenched his draws, the scar running down his left side contorting and livid. A dirty scar on a handsome face. A determined face. "You aren't getting away that easy!" he yelled, and jumped on the other hover bike, blaster rifle swinging on his back as he powered up the engine...
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Quick march to the Pirate trying to get away! If workable, perhaps a dramatic power loss on the Helmet for an HP (if it is pertinent!)
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Ok! As per IC, seeing if L&S feel they can do something techy with the doors! If not, I guess the grav bike may be in order!
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Starshot "One left standing" he commented to his companions. "And two down. Although how long for is another matter. The gas is clearing". He looked at the door. "Can either of you get through this? And fast?" he asked them. Lock picking was not something he ever bothered with. Yezlian snakes didn't use hypermag locks in their liars. "Otherwise its the hard way. With blasters and exlosives. Not as fast as I would like. But it will get the job done..."
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GM "Daylight" nodded Moon, in agreement. "They surely will not. I cant say I work to well in the daylight. More of a lunar man" he smiled, his lunar eyes glinting. "But you are right. The Sun shines and the scum scuttle back to their holes, at least for the most part..." And so... The Bad Beat it was. Old Dick (and his unaged cat, Young Pussy) was quite happy to oblige; at least for a day or two. Since it was Burned down and rebuilt, it had become a kind of Switzerland in Bedlam City. Possibly partially because no crook wanted the Burner, the crazed vigilante, on a warpath. Yeah, they could do with out that heat. Bdum dum tish! went the Jazz band drummer. And a day later, out of the city it was. Anonynimity in a busy daytime train. And that, it seemed, was a small victory. ...for now... ~ Fin ~
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Ok lets recap on the action! Round 2 (ish, we are a bit out of synch but lets go with 2) Im giving Sin an Init of 0 for ease (it arguably would be a lot higher but hes completly pinned so irrelevant) Initiative: 1d20+10 27 for the Duke Round 2 27 Duplicate Duke - Unharmed 25 - Frost - 1 HP - Fatigued 15 - Morgen - Unharmed [Sword at Tough 6] 12 - Voin - Unharmed - 2 HP 7 - DReadnought - Unharmed - 0HP 0 - Dr Sin - Pinned For his action, the Duke will scuttle away on his little legs off towards the stables!
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GM Dr sin seemed rather surprised that Dreadnought got the better of him. He did not struggle once in his grip though. "Ah! You are faster than you look, fool! I will remember that!" he said, cunning and cruel. "You have me of course. I can no more break free of your grasp than I can break a mountain..." he commented quite calmly. He looked straight in the eye of Dreadnought with the most cunning and cruel of smiles. "You are quite the fool!" he laughed straight in Dreadnought's face. "Your brawn is no match for me!" "I suddently remembered! My Hyena is on fire! Please excuse me!" proclaimed the Duke, who turned heel and, with surprsing agility, scuttled off, vaulting over a statue of Napolean quite gracefully.
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Move action: Take cover Standard action: Ready a blaster shot (actually a stun - lets try non lethal) in case he gets a shot at Platinum.
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Echohead "Uh...uh...Everybody please proceed exitly to the calm! We have got this under-contolled!" proclaimed Echohead in his normal quasi-bold way. He waved his gun vaguely at the EXIT sign and tried not to discharge it. Got him! he thought proudly, the winged antagonist down, having quite forgotten how to move muscles. And now...he turned his attention to the platinum person. Wait! He couldn't see! Darkness consumed the air! Which meant he could not steal any thoughts! "Its too dark!" he wailed to everybody. He took a few steps to the side, taking cover behind one piece of expensive laboratory equipment not as expensive as my life! and aimed his blaster and the swirling darkness...if he got a shot, he would take it!
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No probs...post that grapple IC!