Supercape
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Mind Reading DC 20 Will Save from you guys, please! You may also roll a DC 20 Sense Motive check from the telepathy, -5 penalty to your roll unless you have the Animal Empathy Feat!
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GM Vermin whispered his whispers, and Filth replied. "The mutant rats? I don't think the good doctor planned them. He didn't plan the Giant Ants or the Mutant Fungus either. He just...experiments" muttered the Filth. "The mutant rats ain't allies of the Doctor. Not that they are his enemies, either..." He scratched his chin full of grizzly stubble. "Its like the damn wild west out here at the moment..." The scrabbling in the pipes got louder. And then, a voice appeared in Lobisomem's and Arcturus; head. Who are you? Why you come? We are the Many-Mind...
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NO worries and so noted!
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Acrobatics: 1d20+8 23
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Making a search roll by the carvings: Search: 1d20+18 26 (Feel free to roll any future search or notice rolls if needed!)
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Lord Steam Lord Steam was of athletic composition, but he was too feeling the grind, both mentally and physically. He leaned on his cane and contemplated the situation carefully. He was not yet short of breath but he was feeling the strain. A rest would do good. "This is not a matter of simple three dimensional Architecture" he concluded. "It is a maze in more than three dimensions, I should guess. Perhaps considerably more. Either that, or the most subtle of devices, changing the map as we move. Shifting doors and so on. But I have felt no motion to indicate such subterfuge". He started to study the carvings in much greater detail. "This is, I think, a trap of sorts. Not of lethal means, but a defence against unwanted investigators such as ourselves. Of course, if we do not find a way out of here, we starve to death. Not my preferred way to spend the next month..." he added, with sombre humour. "I would speculate that it must, therefore, have a way out. Or a way in. Depending on you might perceive the problem. There must be a way to get to the lower levels, and not simply by following the maze...Come, let us see if we can find something out of place. With fortune, a secret passageway! Why, I always loved those..."
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Mr. Murk "Hmmm....I see. Such is the danger in commitment, I suppose. 'Tis a mighty engine" he mused. "But the war is over now, at least, the overt one. I still hear the rattling of sabres on both sides of the world. But that is all, the rattling, for the sake of potency in the eyes of the common man" he sighed. "I wonder how much you could have achieved if you stayed in Russia. Ah, but these what ifs and mayhaps...they are an endless circle, I think" "No, I think it is to the future we must look. I have been doing so all my life. True, one must learn from the past, but they eyes must be on the future" he said, 'looking' at her with his own blind white-milk eyes. "I hope to see Comrade Frost soon. He is mulling over my proposal. I would hope that does not prejudice you against due consideration. Would you hear me out on this matter?"
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GM "Coupla years, give or take" replied Filth, breezily. "Used to have a crew down here. A gang. But they left" he explained, bluntly without any evident sadness. "Now its just me and Vermin" he said with a smile on his face. "I go upside now and again" he added, although his white skin suggested it was uncommon. "Food, supplied, batteries. A bit of you know, this and that. Earn some cash. Maybe take things that need taking" he said, airily without meeting anyone's gaze. "I just prefer it down here. Me and Vermin!" He started leading Lobisomem and Arcturus down a tunnel. Obviously old, with crumbling masonry and stagnant filth. It was an assault on the nose. "The Doc, he set up shop down here somewhere. I know roughly the place. But, hey, Vermin says I should get you to kill the rat upsurpers first, whaddya say? You look like you could do that" he asked, keenly. And there was a scuttling in the cracked pipes and cracked masonry around them in response...
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Grapple Roll: 1d20+25 32
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Lament Luther had got up, unable to sleep or even relax. He wanted to know what that woman was about. Who she was. And why. He went to the diner, ordered some blackberry pie as a peace offering, and knocked on room 140 door. "Hey, are you guys up. I brought some food..." he said, moderate in tone, through the door. The walls were made of cardboard, as far as he could see. Which he was actually grateful for, today. It means he could stay up all night fretting, and be tired and irritable the next day. "See if some yummy home made black berry pie might make y'all feel better" he called through, hopeful that, even if she didn't partake, the gesture of human kindness might get them somewhere. Even if not, it was at least kindly.
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GM "Yeah, you got it! King of Rats!" said Filth, cheerfully. Vermin hissed slightly, but his grip on Filth was clearly not absolute, for Filth was a rambler and hence Vermins great cunning was undone. "Vermin here is royalty. He commands all the rats down here. You know, maybe does some mind control hypnosis thing on them, so you know, technically they don't actually choose to be his mindless slaves. But that doesn't matter in the end, right? I mean, King is King, no matter how you get there. And once you are King, whatever the King does is right, yeah?" he grinned, appearing quite proud to have such an esteemed regal rodent on his shoulders. "So anyway, Vermin here doesn't like dissidents, yeah? Especially not these new mutant rats. They blast your brain, telepathic or something like that. Real smart, too, when in packs" he explained rather vaguely, probably because he didn't quite understand himself. "We got a few of them. But its a bloody business. And we don't want a rat war down here, do we? So, you know, if you could just eat em all up. Roast them on a stick, something like that, that would be great!"
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GM "Vermin says ok, but he ain't happy about it" explained Filth, scratching his Mohican. Some of Vermin's agitation was rubbing off on him, and he had a deeply furrowed brow. "Ain't a good thing, upsetting Vermin. Believe me..." he muttered, beckoning Lobisomem and Arcturus over. His clunky flashlight still shone strong. Even if Lobisomem and Arcturus could see in the dark, Filth could not - although he seemed very at home down here. "But you can get on his good sides, you know...by disposing of this doctor. I mean, slitting his throat would be good an' all. Or eating him, if you wish..." he cocked an eyebrow at Lobisomem. "But really if you cam clear him out, that would be great. He is causing a lot of trouble..." "...like the rats..." he said, in a hushed tone. "They are getting rebellious. Some kind of mutation thing, or something. They are getting smarter. Ain't followin' their natural leader. Now, that's making Vermin really unhappy. So if you wouldn't mind gobblin' them all up to?" he asked, hopefully. But it was a little more than a request. Vermin seemed to whispering with cunning. This felt like a "you scratch my back, Ill scratch yours" kind of deal. A barter...
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GM "Yeah sure. Just make sure to kill him a little bit, will ya? The sewer will wash out the blood. Nobody checks for bodies down here. I would know haw haw!" smirked Filth, trying to look tough. He listened once again to the Rat on his shoulder, Vermin. "Wait, whats that you are doing?" he asked as Arcturus started scrawling. "That don't look right...no not at all...." Vermin was agitated and vexed, scuttling (with praiseworthy agility) from one shoulder to another, gazing deeply and spitefully at Arcturus. He whispered into Filth's ear again. "Hey now...Vermin says that's some kind of ward...against rats? You hurtin' his feelings, dude. And we are trying to help you guys out!"
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Lament Luther was actually relieved he was next door to Kendra. Something about the woman disturbed him. It was not that he judged her a threat, although out in these woods (as Benny noted), not much was friendly. She might be. But no, his real reason for worry was what had caused a woman to run out of the woods, terrified and mute? That was some seriously worry. Still, he wasn't going to abandon his Southern Gentleman standards. Kendra could look after her. He, hmmm...he could get a drink. Bourbon. Just one glass. Two at the most. He did so in his own room, pondering the night, and feeling the Void inside getting restless. It had not fed, and whilst it was hardly full of clawing hunger, he did not see much in the way of food out here. And even less in the way of justifiable food. He did not relish the thought of the deep black depression caused by the Void feeding on himself. That way, madness lay. Or worse. He threw off some clothes and lay on the bed of his room, listening to the night and in no mood for more drink. He glanced over at his bags. For tucked away was the costume not of Luther Legrasse, not of Zorbo the magnificent, but of the Lord of Lamentations....and something inside him prickled. If there was a hunter for that poor woman, then the Sultan of Sorrow would be there to protect her, and feed...
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GM Filth once again listened to Vermin, nodding his head and making clucking, sucking sounds with his lips as his brain worked. It was, apparently, not the largest brain in Freedom City. "What ya doin'?" he asked. "I mean, ya want to get these here city folks outa here?" he pondered, looking at the rubble and the carnage of dust and metal and fungus. "I dig that. I do. All hero like, and stuff" he nodded, not sounding really convincing. "But yer gonna set of a major collapse of these tunnels if you start shifting this around. I ain't exactly one to work with the City, if ya know what I mean, but even I know this is one for the rescue services, yeah?" He bit his lip. "Now I think about it, that means a whole heapa trouble for me down here. This is my place, ya know? I don't wanna hang around for questions and all that. Damn! You just ruined my secret headquarters!" he said, spitting and irritated. "No getting away from it, this is one bad day..." he muttered, looking at the hole above him and the mountain slide of rubble. "I gotta get even...."
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GM The security desk was spread out in an array of readouts and camera feeds. Foreshadow could quickly work out the layout of the power plant, and the location of all the cameras. That's what he got from being a genius. If he wanted he could get detailed readings on wind speed, humidity and temperature. As it turned out, it was dry, still, and cold. And it was still snowing heavily. It was also a relatively easy matter to squeeze into one of the Russian uniforms. It was not a perfect fit, of course, but it was certainly a reasonable one. Foreshadow was a reasonably big guy, and so where these Russians.
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GM Filth, and (it seemed) Vermin took a step back, surprised at the depth of Lobisomem's wrath. "Whoa, man...." he muttered putting his hands up. "Take it easy, take it easy. Sure. I mean, we...I....know these old tunnels 'bout better than anybody. I can help..." The Rat whispered in his ear and he chewed his lip, a little smile coming on to his face. "I mean, I don't know exactly where this all comes from, but we...I...do know something. Some guy set up shop a few weeks back. Wanted a hideout or something. He paid us...me....good money. Also treated my fungus infection. Damn, that was some serious infection. You don't wanna know about that. Man, it's nice to be able to take a shi..." Vermin dug his claws into Filth to get him back on track. "Owww! Yeah, well, anyway. So he set up shop down here. Doctor, I think he was. Big guy. Doing some research, he said. Hell, he pays us...me money and sorts out my backside, hell, I ain't saying no!" he grinned. "But I guess I'm betting he is causin' all of this. Causin' the rat problem. I mean. You'd be doin' us...me....a solid if the doctor wen't missin'...you know? I ain't going to be callin' the cops..." he added, drawing a line across his throat. "I'll take you there, if ya finish him!"
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Lord Steam "I can manage a sleepless night. Just give me a strong cup of tea!" replied Lord Steam in a Jocular mood. He could hardly resist a puzzle of any magnitude, and this was a weighty issue. Politics and puzzles. His bread and butter. "Consider me at your service. I would be happy to assist. The question is not if I will do, but how..." He pondered the matter, mulling it over this way, then that. "What do you propose? As far as I can see, we must either press diplomacy, strain the velvet quilt that has been laid over us, or we must engage in spycraft, which most surely would get us to the meat of the matter but carries greater risk. I confess I am no spy. But I am not opposed to such a gamble..."
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GM "Buckingham Palace, are you serious?" said the Tramp, looking concerned now. "Looky here, sweetheart, you don't want to going to Buckingham Palace. No ways they be letting you in there. You can't just march up and ask to see the Queen you know? Not unless you are invited, or you are lord, or lady. Or maybe a member of parliament. At best, yerl be kicked out with a boot up your arse. More likely, they will arrest you and throw you in prison, or worse, Bedlam. If you are really unlucky, they will just shoot you..." He took off his cap and scratched his head. "What you want to see her Majesty for anyway?" he asked, politely. "I mean, If yer paying silver, I'll help you the best I can, hey?" he added, cheering up at the thought. "But I ain't going to do it and get a dead lady on me con-shence" he explained, emphatically.
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GM "Royal Family?" chortled the tramp. "Why, you think you can march up to Buckingham Palace and have tea with Queen Victoria just like that! Ho ho ho!" "I ain't ever heard of no court of the moon, and I don't reckon no courtly lady takes naps on the streets of Deptford. Unless by court of the moon you mean you are a lady of the night...ho ho ho! That's one way of puttin' it, har har!" "Sounds like you been at the gin. Or maybe the opium pipe. Either that, or you need cartin' off to Bedlam" he said, quietening a little. "Say, who are you really?" he asked again, a little more suspicious.
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Mr Murk "You do? Hmmm. Please to hear it. He is a man of passion and intellect. I am fond of him. Particularly when he disagrees with me" replied Murk, honestly. "That said, he has a brutal edge to him. A man of his times, I suppose. I can understand how you and he did not mix well" He drank some wine, mulling the matter and savouring the taste. "I would not wish to mend a relationship that does not wish to be mended. I would not play peacemaker, at least, without being asked. Impertinence to do so. But, I would understand both you and he, for I take great interest in the souls of all immortals. Would you humour me and explain the nature of your quarrel?"
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GM Winston carefully poured out a very generous glass of bourbon. "I have some kind of blood disease. Nobody can work it out. Inflammatory auto immune disease, they reckon. Spent my last dime trying to get a cure, but nobody figured it out" he nodded at the drip. "This stuff keeps my alive. Just. But as I am as weak as a man twice my age, and I ain't young, I'm telling you..." he sighed. "So I got to getting desperate, see? Did my research. Now, I only got scraps, here and there. But...you a vampire or something?" he asked, unsure of himself. "I can scarcely believe it. You know. But that's what I figures, chasing down all the newspapers and official documents and this and that down here in New Orleans" he explained, still unsure. "And from what I understand, you are my great grandmother cousin twice removed or somethin' Now I know that ain't much, but its all I got..." He shrugged. "Got some real voodoo stuff down here, you know. Some crazy guy thinks he can cure me with your blood. He is all black magic and that. A year ago, I wouldn't have given him the time of day. Right now, its all I got...."
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Mr. Murk "Russia, yes. Russia. I pondered opening a club there you know. Had a Russian immortal might help with that one day. Interesting man" he replied fondly. "But Russia seems to unstable, dangerous right now. Lamentably. The Club is perhaps needed there most, but I cannot open one safely. Vexatious, vexatious..." he muttered, displeased with the situation. "I congratulate you on your family. Myself, I have none. And, barring some miracle of science, will not. As an immortal however, I am in no hurry" he explained. "But you, on the other hand, have been busy, I see. I have a more subtle slow hand, myself. Although I forsee that my game must change, and change soon. Tell me then, what say you of the world you have seen and felt these last years?"
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Lament "Dead to the world. But fortunately not dead" replied Taylor. Addressing both Benny and Taylor, he voiced his concerns and thoughts. "Look, lets get her a room. Maybe we can ask Kendra to watch over her. I'm no doctor, but I think its just a case of exhaustion, shock and dehydration. A bit of sleep and drinking water should get her back to normal" he explained. "Meantime, this seems mighty spooky to me. Straight out of a horror film. I think we should call the cops, or sherrif, or whatever passes for the Law round here. See if they can shed some light on things..." he offered. "Sounds like there's somebody, or something, in those woods that ain't to friendly..."
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Lament "Looks a bit dehydrated. But she will live. No spooky voodoo knives of carved bones sticking out her ribs. That's always a good start. Hmmm....must add that to the show..." rambled Luther, trying to clean up the woman a little with water and rags. "Just look where yer going!" he called out to the driver. "Don't be wantin' to run over anyone running screamin' out of the woods" He turned his attention back to the woman and Kendra. "Darlin', Darlin' can you hear me?" he asked her, a little more loudly. "I need to know your name, Sweetheart...someone I can call?" he asked. "Kendra, I don't feel right, as a man, patting her down. Could you see if she got a wallet or somethin'? maybe someone we can call, a contact number?"