Supercape

as INT is higher...INT check: 1d20+3 19

GM Epilogue And so... The offices of Mr. Fiddle, fine and dandy, and with a half dozen sleeping Dreadnoughts underneath, was bequeathed to Mr. Murk who thereapon took over as Lawyer upon the death of Mr. Fiddle who lived to a ripe old age and was merry and sharp till the end, when he keeled over suddenly at the age of 93 choking on a cucumber sandwich. Whilst Mr. Murk was of considerable skill in both the practice of law and the acumen to accrue both wealth and contacts, he was not of the same fame, and over the years the practice dwindled; but at the same time, a certain "Club Immortus" was opened in Soho. It was said that in the middle of one cold night, several huge coffins were moved from the offices of Fiddle to the depths of Club Immortus. Nobody said much more, for certain monies moved betwixt certain hands and the whole matter was hushed most effectively. As for Armitage, he never apparently recovered consciousness, at least to any great degree. He was committed to hospital and cared for, never to stand trial. Whispers of his ghost and presence peppered London (and indeed, further, much further) from time to time. His catatonic body dissapeared from hospital when Armitage was an old man. Some say he sleep walked out of the hospital. But the truth has not, to date, been determined, despite the bold and vigorous attempts of Mr. Murk to investigate the matter. And as for the Dreadnought of this story... Dreanought slept with his future brothers, deep and sound in an enchanted slumber, to wake in the new year of 2018 by Mr. Murk, who had most interesting news... ~ Fin ~ But followed straight away, dear reader, by the amazing spark of life!

Starshot "More water..." commented Starshot. He tapped his flask. Plenty left. No need for more. No more flasks to fill. "I tell you something. I'm going to start studying geology when we get out of this" he declared, making sure he emphasised when (rather than "If"). "I can only guess these tunnels, these caverns, could have been formed from underground rivers and lakes. Seems to be the sound of rumbling water every now and again." he wondered, but then grew grim. "I suppose there's a chance we may get a lot more water than we want, if something caves in the wrong way. I hope you all can swim..." Without waiting for an answer, and with a jolt of determination to get them out, he marched off leading the group down the east passage, towards (at least, he hoped!) the other side of the cave in.

Rev Rev was calm quickly. She wasn't even sure how angry she was in the first place. Some, sure. But there were other emotions too. Disgust, for one. She hated any bullying. She had been bullied, and been a bully, at high school and felt shame for both. Damned if she was going to let it happen in front of her eyes. "Thanks, girl. I..look, I'm sorry if I scared you back there. I just don't what us...you or me...getting caught up in schoolyard power games, huh? I don't want to be sliding and climbing up the ladder like those two. I want to step off the ladder. I haven't got time for it. And if I get in trouble here, I'm more screwed than you can imagine. And I bet you can imagine lots with that megabrain, huh?" she smiled, trying to put velvet on the gravel. "And yeah, lets go get us a room. I'd be stoked if I can share with you, you know? I got a feeling I can trust you. And in any case, you are going to show me your skin!" she winked and chuckled.

Another notice roll for ANOTHER IT IS A MYSTERY: 1d20+10 27!

GM "It will be a tricky business. He is no fool, and no pauper either", replied Mr Fiddle stroking his beard. "But I have a sudden urge to offer my services free of charge for the crown prosecution service!" he smiled. He had judged the balance of evidence, and found the odds to his liking. Mr. Murk came up, tapping the cobblestones. "I can vouch for Mr. Fiddle. He is the finest lawyer in London, and probably the Empire!" he said, honestly. The police were scurrying around this way and that. Occassionally, they even did something useful (although this was rare event), like handcuffing Armitage. The doctor was still catatonic, however. "Although of course he may not be fit to stand trial, if the fellow stays like that" noted Fiddle, rather sad. "Speaking of sleeping, perhaps you and I should make arrangement for the future...?" suggested Mr. Murk, blind eyes pointed at Dreadnought.

GM With the tennis match gone to Dreadnought, Armitage groaned. "That's..bad..." he muttered, before collapsing in a tremulous heap, frothing at the mouth somewhat. The crowd exploded into cheers and applause. Something about Liverpool, Norway, Giants, and Trolls could be heard in the mesh of raucous celebration. Even Mr. Fiddle was sufficiently impressed to ignore his burnt arm and give a resounding clap. "Bravo! Bravo Mr Walker. And thrice Bravo! I must say, I would never have dreamed of such an extraordinary morning! I cannot believe my eyes...what a knockout! Boom! Bash! Pow!" he mimed, mimicking the action that had just occurred. He caught sight of the catatonic Armitage. "Oh deary me! What are we to do with the cad?" he asked Dreadnought.

Rev Reflexively, Rev took a few steps back from the situation. She had no wish to get involved. But... "What the hell kind of madhouse is this?" she said...it was a voice bordering on a shout and it was directed at Zenith and Cheri. She was disgusted with them for trading insults, and angry with them for potentially getting her off to a bad start. What was she dealing with, kids? Yes. "Go on then...let loose all your power and show us all what complete dicks you are. Go on, I like a show" she said, arm's crossed. "Do it. Show us just how little control you have. Hell, I came into here feeling like I was the bad girl. I guess you just made my day. Made me feel pretty good about myself" She stared at them both with contempt. "You wont last five minutes in the real world, suckers". She stood reflexively infront of SFX, shielding her from any fallout. "Now, you guys go and throw your toys around like babies somewhere else. But you better do it on your own time, on your own turf, and with your own consequences. And count me out of it". She pointed the worst contempt, and a finger, at Zenith. "You just showed me you can't control yourself. I'm never going to take you seriously again, girl. Nobody is. Don't think your power makes you better. It's just made you worse..." "Come on SFX" she said to the genius girl she had joined up with. "Lets get out of this trash pit.."

Escapes Nelson: 1d20+40 43 He is totally bound! Hurrah! You may throw him if you wish - I think you still have a move action?

GM "You have no idea of the subtleties, do you?" groaned the stone lips of Lord Nelson. "All brute strength, like a cannonball without a general. A train stuck on its track!" The stone statue was heavier, larger, and just as strong as Dreadnought, but no faster either. And he lacked the brute conviction of Dreadnought, as Armitage had just explained. His stone hands scrabbled for leverage or grip, but found none. There was a stone grunt of frustration. "Destroy this form, if you can. There will be another, and another. I have machinations that you cannot begin to understand, fool!" whispered both Lord Nelson and Armitage. He tried some backwards elbows but Dreadnought had him too tightly pinned.

In which case he will just try and punch Dreadnought as a standard action! Punches Dreadnought: 1d20+7 9 missing! Round 3: 12 Dreadnought - Unharmed 12 Lord Nelson - Injured And Dreadnought is up again!

Right, just refreshed my memory on Grapples...Nelson is pinned but not grappled! To start of, his move action will be to try and break out of the grapple, so another opposed grapple roll please! His will be Grapple Check to break free: 1d20+40 52!

Starshot "They have whole ecosystem down here. Fish! Where did they come from?" He pointed out the small passageways. "I could swim through those, with my helmet. But no chance anyone else can. At least, not without a huge risk" he guessed. "I guess this is a dead end" he said, steeling the disappointment out of his voice. But he did feel, slowly, that the jigsaw possible of the planets ecosystem was slowly falling into place. Burning dry deserts and underground waters. There must have been rolling oceans here, once. Maybe there still was, although where? "Lets retread our steps" he concluded, studying the HUD and plotting a course back to the other side of the landslide. Well, at least they wouldn't dehydrate to death...

The reroll will hit (as with all out attack he only had +2 defence) Grapple: 1d20+40 44 grappled but not pinned!

Starshot "Ha, keep it Laark!" smiled Starshot happily. He slung the plasma rifle over his shoulder, now spent and pulled out his whip. "I got this old thing!" It was no plasma accelerator weapon, but it did have a certain elegance to it. He gave it an elegant crack just to show it off. "If we need blaster rifles, then we got it. I always preferred modulated plasma, myself!" he said, starting a manly debate about the virtues of various energy weapons that would have been an excellent article for Energy Weapons Enthusiast magazine. In any case, he filled up his water bottle and asked the others too. Water was water, after all. And then, he poked his head through the hole, to see what was beyond...another way out, perhaps? Or even better, some flowing water indicating a direction...

ROnin prepares an action (standard) Shoot! (Blast 4 Penetratingpower) if Zealot moves a muscle! (Feel free to make that attack roll for me if she does, I won't reroll a failure).

Ronin Seeing a lull in the fight, Ronin slowly took his trigger off Katana, keeping under cover and keeping unblinking eyes fixed in bullseye gaze on Zealot. Was there some trick afoot? Was Zealot bluffing, buying time? He did not risk a glance at the body that had been laid out for sacrifice. "Well I ain't fearin' a fair fight....and I'll blow your head off if you make a move, mister" he said, coldly like iced gravel. Not that he would blow her head off, but it sounded cool. And more effective than the mercy shot in the loading chamber. "And if we talkin' about pagan, how about you explain your witchcraft hoodoo human sacrifice?"

GM His fist crunched straight into Nelson's face. Verily! How the old war hero would be vexed if he could see his image now, for the nose was splintered straight into the centre of the stony head, and ragged cracks blossomed. Dust and small shards of stone fell to the ground. Incredibly, the statue stood! Impossible! you might cry, dear reader, but no! For the venerable noble statue was not mere stone and iron, but 'twined with strange sorcery! "Impressive. But so am I..." came the cracked voice, from cracked stony lips. And then the sword twisted, and slammed down onto Dreadnoughts head with equally outrageous force!

Tough vs Dreadnought: 1d20+17 25 As this would be lethal damage that would one punch destroy the statue so I am granting one GM fiat to reroll once (Giving Dreadnought 2 HP) (Don't normally but down in one punch feels a little wrong!) Tough Reroll: 1d10+27 33 Boom. Bruised and Injured. In response, Lord Nelson will do exactly the same! All out Power attack on Dreadnought: 1d20+7 24 And a DC 37 Toughness Save for Dreadnought!

Flintlock "I've seen so many strange things, nothing seems strange" said Flintlock, a glazed look creeping over her eyes. Don't think about them! Don't think about them! She slapped herself (mentally) back to the moment and focused on the situation, and most pertinently, the human horror of what had happened. "I doubt this is your regular murder. 'Tis not by knife or blackpowder yon maiden died, but cold. And it may be winter, but its not that cold. Some spirit, mayhap. Some ghost or sorcerer. Maybe Mister Freezy and his Freezonium Freeze. Who knows?" She cracked her knuckles. "But as you say, whoever did this is not here now. Which means they must have left. By some means. I shall take a look outside...check the exits..." So determined to do, she did just that!

GM Flare nodded at Spitfire, in her care barefoot and sweaty (heat? anxiety? something else?) "Ready to go to war? Honey, they practically are at war. The only question is when and where the next battle will be. "And to be honest, who gets caught in the crossfire. Meddy isn't exactly over populated, but you know..." she shrugged. "About the only people in it other than Chopper and his crew are the Native Americans. Some voodoo shaman vibe, you know. Don't eat their mushrooms. No. really. Don't eat their mushrooms" she whispered with a little shudder. "I'd talk to them first. They don't want Meddy getting drowned in blood. At least, not their own" Jabbing a thumb at Bird of Arms she continued. "And Chicken wings there has got a point. He kind of sticks out. Doubt the shamans will have any problem with him. Might quite like him, I guess. But he still sticks out like a sore thumb!" She bit her lip, mulling things over. "I can give you guys a ride, even take you to Quotsa, the shaman guy. I bought some mushrooms for him once. I won't be doing that again, I can tell you..."

Starshot "That's good enough for me...stand back...I'm going to burn the plasma pack dry...." Once a reasonably safe distance was engineered, Starshot flipped off the safety energy modulator, rested the rifle against the rock, and twisted open the plasmatron lens on the muzzle. "This is going to burn..." he hissed, and fired. A stream of high energy plasma fired in a burnt and ragged line towards the rock, without any modulators. The power was immense, and sustained... ...at least for a moment. The crescendo of hyper-charged energy reached an almost unbearable wine, and the cave wall shone brightly with ember hue, eventually exploding into a shower of liquid light. And the power pack was dry.

Mr. Murk [At restaurant] Mr. Murk considered the words and essence of Gorth, reminding him of times ancient. "I remember. The hunt, the kill. The plains of Africa, the warmth of the fire and the sound of crackling fat. The flavours were brutal like the times, devoid of all complexities. But, ah! you feel the purity, do you not? The simplicity of the ritual, uncomplicated and direct to the soul. Yes, Gorth...I feel that ax in your hand, I feel that shudder as it cleaves, that moment of lust and rage and everything in between!" Then, he sat back, smiling. "But the world is more complex than those moments, and those rituals and seconds must weave with the world, rather than shield against it. I think the tapestry is different, here. The map has changed, and I understand the instinct to grasp your map tighter, I do" he said. "Now, tell me about this wizard of yours. What sorcery does he wield, and....here is the depth behind the surface...why does he do so?"

Starshot "Something behind here...water" said Starshot, touching the cave wall. "Which might be good. It might be bad" he concluded. "If it is flowing, we might get a way out of here. And besides, water is a vital resource here. On the other hand, it might be a flood..." His helmet would protect him from drowning (at least as long as its 02 packs lasted, about two hours), but the same could not be said for his crew. "We could try blasting through. It's a gamble. But no road from here is without cost..." he said. "What do you think?" he asked everyone. "Should we try to cut through?" The question was both verbal, and again, he took his helmet off to ask the aliens the same question via telepathy. Only polite.

Starshot "Thats a big cave" declared Starshot, impressed with the pure size of the cavern. He was not an underground kind of guy, but still. "That would make sense. I guess the life here is still water based, more or less. They would need a supply or perish" he guessed. A reasonable guess. He was no zoologist, but he knew enough to get by. "It might be wise to restrock our own water supplies, if we can" he suggested. There was of course the problem of contamination. But he would rather carry a bit of risky water and risk using it then a slow death by dehydration. "Just make sure we mark it with a question mark. Use up our fresh supplies first" he explained. "Of course, we have to find it first..." he added. "Lets spread out...but visual and voice range. And buddy up...we don't want any mistakes!" Choosing Sorreen as his buddy, and asking Laark to point in the best guess direction, he started the search.