Supercape
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Starshot "Wise" nodded Starshot who had been mulling over the same issue. "Best not rush these things" He dropped his equipment and took of his helmet, surveying the scene with his own eyes as was oft his preference. It was all very well to have advanced electronic readouts and multi-spectrum graphics, but he wanted the air on his face and his breathe in the air. "A fire would be good. But we must be wary, for they can attract as well as repel wildlife. And we must secure Phalen" he added, contemplating (but rejecting) giving the alien a solid dose of Omni-sed. "And a watch. Eyes and ears open when we do. And blasters at the ready..."
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Mr. Murk "I believe I understand" nodded Murk. "I am no warrior, but I have fought" he explained. "For my part, when in such circumstance, the world grows clear. It is not fear or rage that one experiences, but a crystal focus" he offered. "This has been my observation of men and women too. I cannot say it is wrong, nor right, from a moral perspective. It is beyond good or evil, it is simply the mind responding to utmost need. Survival and purpose, and that is all" He drummed his fingers together. "Does such a history, does such a heart, disconcert you? I do not see it as either contrary or aligned with the Codus, such as it is at this time. I would see it more as a tool, as a power that can be swung this way, or swung that. I wonder if the Codus would aim such a swing; not strengthen it, nor impede it?"
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Bloody Mess "Yelp" screamed the Hound. "Save me!" He was probably talking to himself, but the Mess took head, punching his head back to its normal puffiness. "Dontcha worry! I'm back an' in da Savin' bizzness!" he grunted with a big grin. With a few mighty hops, a few powerful strides, he was in Malcolms face again. "Ya lousy bozo! Trying to stomp on a poor little dog!" he said, slamming one fist into one palm. "Imma gonna pound you to mush, ya hear?" And with that, he swung wide fists, righty then lefty, hopping that the Battle Brother would choose to block his knuckles with his face.
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Ok so back in his body! Before going to the nastier blood powers, he is going to try a straightforward punch. Ill assume a move action to get to him, then an unshifted wham. DA PUNCH: 1d20+10 20 borderline....if it does hit, DC 25 Toughness (on Malcolm)
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Mr. Murk "Mmmm. I would hope we do not need such a warrior. I would very much prefer we could meet that need should it arrive. Passion melded with pragmatism, you could say" said Mr. Murk, not without sadness himself. "A shield is needed, at times. So is a sword, lamentably. I could not say that either would be at the heart of the Codus, but neither are they antagonistic. The Codus is the road. What wheels we use? Diplomacy, manipulation, and, yes, violence, at times" "And...I am not convinced Warriors should not make those calls. At least, their decisions should not have any less validity, in principle, than anybodies. Any decision the codus makes is a decision of three, for no one man or woman should do so. A Warrior sees war, does she not? The blood and guts and filth of it that is left behind when the purity of rage leaves?" "Perhaps that is an important perspective..."
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Cool! We shall now say the stairwell is under partial visual concealment [Smoke descriptor] The piloting back is a rocky one, so a DC 20 Toughness save for Val from the impact. Broadly speaking that boldness would cost an HP. But you get one for it being bold. So yeah! And you are up again.
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GM The Drone was smoking, which did not aid matters one bit. Val could hardly see. On the upside, it made it very hard for the other Drones to know exactly what was happening. Especially as the Drone Commander was clearly stunned by the boldness of action. "WHAA.....WHAAA......WHAAAAA?" came the tinny voice, shocked into bamboozlement. The Drone span once, and came close to throwing Val off. It was a long way down, that was for sure. But Val had enough grit and wit to slide the drone back into the Building, through shattered glass, and into the stairs in a puff of smoke and a boom of explosion! More shattered glass, more smoked, and even a little fire...
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Yep, this is that grey area between narrative and combat! And that is incidentally awesome. As they are minions I think we can waive some of the regular checks. Especially as that is such a bold move it has caught the Drone Commander by surprise. Also the toughness save is only +4, so the drone is destroyed. However, that means she is sitting in mid-air on a destroyed drone!!!! What she gonna do? Dum dum daaaaah!
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Mr. Murk "Are you offering?" smiled Mr. Murk. "My strength is of a subtle nature, not that of power. I move in the shadows. I am no policeman, nor soldier, although I will fight if need be. Do not consider me a coward, please. Just a pragmatist..." "As I envisage things, breaking the Codus should normally be grounds for expulsion, and thus the benefits and protection that it offers will no longer be available. The matter is then in the hands of the world. A murder is still a murder and a matter for the country it took place in, the laws that bind us all, and the judgements of hearts..." "There is, however, a darker vengeance that might be justified. For matters of great cruelty. In such cases, I would propose more than a mere expulsion. An expulsion with prejudice, one might say. When we should not merely reject the villain, but act against him" he said, now dark. "Such decisions are not to be taken lightly. A council of three for any action. A majority for expelling, a unanimous agreement for expelling with prejudice. And in such cases, whilst not succumbing to great cruelty ourselves, we should act to contain and erode the villain..." "What say you? A police man for the Codus would be a fine idea..."
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Mr. Murk "You are right, of course" conceded Mr. Murk. "I cannot claim the Codus is perfect, nor without flaw. And I would not debate you on this point. The matter of the heart is a more complex one, however. This is not some cold document, a law without feeling. That would be an incorrect conclusion" "It is born precisely from the heart. I have lived so very very long. And seen so much cruelty and horror. I say this not without hope, and I say this not without love, for I have seen much hope and love, too. And I have seen the ages become brighter and more wonderful both in spectacle and heart with every passing year" "And, in my reflection on this, the strongest tool for us all is law. Not for its own, sake, no, for that is a circular and empty argument. But Law, properly motivated, has allowed the worst passions of men - and women - to be if not eradicated then at least mitigated". "Law has been misused and many laws are wrong. But it allows a safe process. It allows a safe progress. It is easy to pick examples of bad law. But this is, in fact, not the crux of my passionate argument. What I propose is this; that Law, as a process, has prevented much more cruelty by its presence than it has caused..." "I say then this, that Law is neither with a heart, not without. It is the mechanism by wish the best in man, love, is protected, and the worst in man, hate, is managed..."
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Hero Point to Wayward for rescuing civillians Wayward 4 HP Fire at Wayward: 5#1d20+8 12 11 20 17 21 all five drones miss!
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GM "What? What? You dare MOCK me? DON'T YOU KNOW WHO I AM!" screamed the drones controller over rather tinny, poor quality speakers. The taunt had worked its magic, for the drones all pointed now directly at Wayward, ignoring the fleeing crew and Kitty Riot. "ILL SHOW YOU CIVIL YOU JUMPED UP LITTLE WEASEL! ILL BUY YOU A BEER AND SHOVE IT RIGHT UP YOUR...." Alas, we shall never know where the drone intended to shove that beer, for rage got the better of speech, and the Drones opened fire! ZAPPEPTY ZAP ZAP ZAPPETY ZAP! Laser beams streamed through the building, scorching, searing, burning. They were actually quite pretty, even if disorganised. "KILL! KILL!" screamed the enraged droid controller.
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Mr. Murk "Ah" said Murk, pondering his next words. "Think carefully on this. The Codus does not say Immortals are better than mortals. Or worse. It does not say one life is better than others, and would not require such a commitment from you". "The position of the immortal is, however, different. There are certain philosophical considerations. If one is to live for ever, it is not a question of when you will do an act - be it benign or malign - merely a question of when you will do it. It is not a question of if you will sink to cruelty, but when. And, for that matter, not a question of when you will reform, but when". "The Codus is does not prevent the imposition of justice on an immortal, but it modulates it from the excesses derived from malice, envy, or even curiosity" he explained. "Passions lead to injustice, without a code to hold action in check".
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GM The telepathic reply was neither pleasant or friendly. King? We have no king! Foul Devil-King! We/I shall endure him no longer! spat the Many-Mind. Filth was clutching his head, groaned, and sank to his knees. Vermin stayed still, hissing. Whatever the Many-Mind was, it could not penetrate the King of Rats defences. We/I will destroy the Devil-King. The Many Mind is Many. And many is strong.... Let us in! Let us in! We/I must see your thoughts! If not, you will be destroyed! Your will be destroyed! We/I trust nothing we cannot read! If we/I cannot read, cannot know your thoughts, you are enemy of Many-mind!
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GM "Cor Blimey! Gold!!! Gold, it is, and so be it!" shouted Boots. For one sweet moment in his life, boots were not on his mind. Red Moon could spy a couple of open windows. It would do good to air the building in such air. Unfortunately they were on higher floors. The plebs, after all, might have access to the windows on the lower floors. The upper windows, it seemed would be a climb, or a vault. Or, in Red Moons case, a little bit of flying. Picking a window almost a random, she flew in, and found herself in a very ornate and extravagant room full of reds and purples. A man was scribbling away at a desk with his back to him, putting ink to parchment and consulting various books. He looked old and important and was dressed in resplendent clothes. He also had appeared not to hear Red Moon.
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GM And so...by mid-morning at this time... Outside Buckingham Palace... "Cor blimey, these are a splendid pair of boots, and no mistake!" said Boots, smiling from ear to ear. The acquisition of so splendid a pair of footwear had put him in a most jocular mood, and, despite all evidence that Atraxia was a lunatic, he was thus inclined to aid her for as long as the boots lasted. Buckingham palace was large, expensive, and surrounded by a guarded fence. The guardsmen wore uniforms, tall black hats, and rather long rifles complete with bayonets. "There you go, M'lady! Queen Victoria's hovel in all its glory. Her official residence, that is. 'Course, she may not be in there. But its her official residence none theless!" he proclaimed. He looked more concerned now. "Seriously, luv, you don't want to go marchin' in there, no matter how much silver you got or how splendid your dress in. Private property and all that. You don't want to be run through by them there guards with those bayonets. They are pointy and sharp!"
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GM "Your fuel, eh? Someone give you bad coal? Eh. the pollution these days!" grumbled the Tramp. And so, a little while later... Threadfellow's was a rather cheap tailors that made great and unsuccessful attempts to appear regal and expensive. It sold men and womens clothing, of rather poor quality, for rather cheap prices. "There you go, Lady" said Mr. Ignus "Boots" Mudfield, the tramp who had struck up a friendship with Atraxia. He was named Boots, after his habit of constantly complaining about the ragged and worn state of his boots as he trod the cobbled streets. His boots were indeed, ragged and worn, but even the most patient of men or women would soon find his constant complaining about the fine detail of such raggedness and worn-outness irksome after a few minutes. "Cheapest yerl get, round here. I hope you have coin to spend. Or nimble fingers. And if you do fancy buying some boots for me, I would be much obliged, I would!" Boots had formed a transparent opinion that Atraxia was one for Bedlam, on account of her lunacy. However, the prospect of manipulating her into buying him new boots was simply too enticing. And besides, he was quite fond of such eccentricity. It was, he judged, of a benign sort.
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GM "I will, I will" nodded Mr Murk. "I have, after all, plenty of time!" "But I fear fatherhood is not for me, at least, not in this age. In the future..." he tailed off. "Ah yes, the future. Obscured..." He shook his head. "But enough of this. The Codus, as I envisage it, has many points and principles. It is living and organic, and will mutate and change with the refinement of wisdom and practice. But at its heart, it has three key...laws....if you will. This does of course not mean an enforceable law, but it is a requirement for those who sign. There is no requirement for an immortal to sign, and one may leave as one wishes" "Firstly, that one may not kill another immortal and that we should protect immortals from being killed. If one is forced to do so, one is called to explain the reasoning. There may be extenuating circumstances, such as protecting ones own life, or the lives of others. But you will be called to account for such action, and must explain the absolute necessity of such action" "Secondly, that we must protect one another from inhuman, Promethean torment. Incarceration is reasonable, but it must be humane and dignified. You will appreciate the dangers of immortality; experimentation would be a mild horror. Torture could be unending. In this matter we must take proactive action to rescue each other from such horror, no matter what the reason". "Lastly, the Club Immortus is safe haven. No violence must be committed against another member on these grounds, either directly or by proxy. It is, if you will, a final safety for our kind" he finished. "There are various nuances such as standing, finances, and arbitration, as with any such code, but the three principles above are the centre of all else. What say you?"
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Mr. Murk "I do not, nor will I, as far as I can see. And I can see quite far" sad Mr. Murk sadly. "I was unable to sire children even when my species roamed the earth. And if truth be told, I was an object of fear and reverence rather than lust, by and large. There were exceptions..." "But now, I am the last of the my kind. No doubt in strange aeons beyond even my foresight new advances will be made. But for now, I am without offspring. Perhaps this is a blessing, for I would surely outlive them all..." "The urge to protect, I understand, however. Primal and pure. And the only reason I was not incinerated at birth. A blind Albino was a burden, back in those ancient days. I only breathe thanks to a mothers love, and ferocious it was" "But what of your children? Will they age and die, or will they be immortal, like yourself?"
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Feel free to post accordingly. Lob can sense the mind probe, and its paranoid as hell!
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Bloody Mess / The Hound Bloody Mess knocked the other side of his head in befuddlement. "What, there is a man in there too? Get out, get out, ya bozo!" he muttered, a little scared. He gave his head a few powerful knocks. Fortunately, whilst his head was reasonably big, there was a paucity of contents to damage. Lamentably, the Mess seemed to latch on to the fact he was hearing voices in his head rather than the content of those voices. He was a little distracted, what with the punching and fighting and stomping. The Hound, for his part, skittled this way and scuttled the other. "That's right! That's right. I'm a talking dog! Eight blinkin' marvel of the world. You don't want to miss me, do ya? A talking dog!" he yapped in English. "Who knows what I might do. Laser Vision! Freezing Breath! Radioactive excrement! That's right! Watch where you put those feet! Could get messy!"
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Same as, I think! Standard Action: Total Defence (+8) Move Action: Set Up Feint at -5 penalty: Feint Set Up: 1d20+5 18
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Starshot Starshot took a moment to take in the trees, which were impressive. And to celebrate getting free of the endless fields of Bladegrass that he was sure would plague dreams in nights to come. "Thank the Gods, the forest!" He sat down on a root and stretched his legs. Another short break was in order and the same ritual as before. Hydration, that was the key. He gave Phalen a good look over to. He hoped the alien would regain his mind at some point. "Now, where do we go from here?" He posed the question to both himself and his crew. To his mind, they would have better water, food, and surroundings. A positive. There was more chance of hostile fauna. Or possibly flora, come to that. But how to navigate through the forest?
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Raking 10 on Medicine for a 20 result. No medical kit so at -5, but should reach the DC 15 Revive status? (Trying to revive the Speaker)
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Lord Steam "Well that got us out of the maze..." muttered Lord Steam. "Unfortunately, not quite the glorious victory I had hoped for...." At least he had tumbled down the hole relatively unscathed. Now, there was darkness and blood and a huge cavern to navigate. Oh, it was very good to be propelled forward, he though to himself. But they were in worse danger now. This brought a bold smile to his lips. Grasping his cane and tapping his way to where Dol-Druth was he went to tend to the Speaker. Not easy in darkness, but the wisest choice. "Hey ho, old chap! Don't let me down now!" he said, trying to feel his way through the injuries. "We are in a bit of a pickle, you see. Fell into a hole and all that. Could do with a bit of light!"