Supercape

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.

Notice roll for ITS A MYSTERY: 1d20+10 13

Starshot Starshot breathed a sigh of relief that they had made it, and powered down his rifle. "That was close. Too close. Keep your ears open, crew...we don't want to get trampled by another stampede like that" He shouldered his rifle again and considered the options, studying the HUD inside his helmet, the rotating holo-display of the caves. "Best bet now, is carry on down this passage. Best chance of meeting up with the other side of the rockfall...although who knows if the rest of the tribe are there. Still, I would like to find out..." he concluded. And so, the direction and course was once again set, and onwards his boots trod.

As per chat, Ill throw in Murk.

Armitage is a master of human psychology but even that is stretching it! Still...Sense Motive: 1d20+18 20 Nope, do you want to post that attempt IC?

GM The statue froze, for a moment, considering the new turn of events. "You would not...wait...you would!" mouthed the Statue. With an almighty THWAMM! the statue jumped off the column and landed on the ground below, that duly splintered under the terrible impact, Dust and granite rained down over the square, but...LO! for the statue was completely unharmed. "If you stop the spell, then you release something from beyond all dimensions...all reason..." shouted the statue, as it advanced towards Dreadnought, sword raised and pointed straight at the Liverpudlian. "Use your sense, man!" it commanded...or rather, Armitage did, mouthing the words that the statue spoke.

GM Lord Nelson, standing high and proud on his column, gave some elegant swishes and slashes with his stony sword. They had a certain elegance, it was true, a certain keen intelligence controlling the statue, but Dreadnought could not help but notice that the statues movements were grinding, and slow. Slower than Dreadnought. And, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Armitage, standing on the steps to the British library, lost in a trance, his mind focused on his sorcery, and mouthing the words that came out of the statues lips. Of course, in the midst of such spectacle, nobody was paying him the slightest bit of notice...

Init: 1d20+0 12! However, Dreadnought wins the DEX off! Ill post IC then... Round 1: 12 Dreadnought - Unharmed - 1 HP 12 Lord Nelson - Unharmed - Up the top of the column

Starshot "Run!" shouted Starshot, for stealth was not an issue. It mattered not if the stampede saw them or not. If it was a stampede, they would be crushed underfoot one way or another. Standing there ground was not, he thought, a wise option. Even if they could sink a few bodies of a herd, they could not stop enough, or at least the chances were thin. A kinetic grenade, perhaps, to collapse the tunnel. But that was even riskier. Making sure that everyone understood both the peril and the urgency, and was running, Starshot started to run himself. As he did so, he took a look at the three tunnels ahead. The herd (assuming it was that) would follow a straight line, or the widest tunnel - so he and his crew should follow the steepest angled one, the thinnest one. And hope that they would not get trampled before they got there...

GM And wise were the words, for (to the cacophony of screams and panic) trouble was afoot! Lord Nelson himself, made from stone and iron, turned on his column and gazed down to look at the crowds. His stony gazed fixed longest and hardest on Dreadnought. "You broke my column!" he said, voice of flat gravel. "I will have justice!" he added, pulling stony sword from stony sheath. At fourteen feet high, and probably considerably heavier, Lord Nelson was bigger than Dreadnought, and standing at the top of his mighty pillar, had a considerable advantage in spectacle. At least for now...

GM "Oh without question!" answered Mr. Fiddle whilst Mr. Murk smirked. "That is, if there is anything left of London to see. It would be a shame if some disaster of science occurred, and twice shameful if the Liverpudlian Giant was not around to avert it on accounting of protocol" he sighed. "I am sure men of science would be most displeased that science was some impeded from its noble and scientific progress on account of undue respect for the scientific nature of science!" "Ah yes, well I see your point!" conceded the captain, and like a blob of mercury his mind and body melted around the issue whilst retaining its metallic bluster. "Far be it from me to impede SCIENCE! gentleman. I think you ought to see the professor!" And so, in but a moment... "Good lord, you are a giant, Sir! A miracle! What ails you, some form of pituatary giagantism? I am no doctor, but I would be happy to recommend one!" said the professor, peering at the Dreadnought whilst holding a copper tube full of fizzing purple chemicals. "But no! I must not be distracted! Something is afoot here, I am sure of it!" he said, cross with himself and studying his magnets. "Damned if I can work out what it is though..." he muttered as the compass dials spun this way and that. The astute would note that they spun ever more violently with passing seconds.

2 Notice checks for IT IS A MYSTERY: 2#1d20+10 19 20 notice checks as per chat

Starshot Starshot spared a moment to take off his helmet, and wipe his brow. The cybernetic heat dispersal discs on his spine could handle the sweat of heat, but adrenaline was another matter. He gave a final hand signal to the crew to wrap up the cave and leave. And then saluted the bear. Not your day, nor mine...thank the Gods! As he crept out he put his helmet back on, checking the power (Still reasonable, but not great) and flicked on the HUD again. He had no time or inclination to admonish Laark for his mistep; such was the nature of the game. But he was thankful that it had not cost them. Signalling onwards, the march continued...

Stealth: 1d20+14 25

Starshot Very well! Through it is... Starshot disentangled his forehead and the tentacle. With hand signals, he indicated to the crew the proposed action. A circular, stealthy approach through the cave, towards the other end. Checking that they had understood, Starshot took the lead, picking his way through the stalagmites and cave terrain, trying to keep out of visual sight the whole way. But I bet its the question of smell rather than vision...its dark down here! And there was nothing he could do to conceal their scent...

The Red Rat Guns still up, senses still alert, the Rat scanned the area. "Gosh darn it!" she said in a faux American drawl (she had decided that the Shakespeare lady was not one for profanity, unless - perhaps - profanity of most splendid elocution) "looks like they got away...." She was rather annoyed at herself. And the strange rag tag crew she had jumped in with. If only they had been a few seconds quicker! She had to concede here that SLAVE had a point; this was the trade of human misery. Capitalism with no brakes. She had half a mind to burn the place, but a stronger mind to keep it as a memorial. She holstered her left gun and touched the blood. The blood had the sticky feel that was neither fresh not old. "They are half an hour ahead of us...give or take..." she concluded. "The trail is not cold, but not warm either..."

Lord Steam 4 Posts Long way down [4 Posts] Guidebook Entry [+1 PP?] Starshot 54 Posts Crash on Volturnus [50 Posts] DIsaspora: Where none have gone before [4 Posts] Red Rat 4 Posts From Beneath You It Devours: Are You My Mummy? [1 Post] Hijacked [1 Post] Soviet Kitch [2 Posts] Mr. Murk 42 Posts Visitors? Visitors! [5 Posts] Formatting Error [5 Posts] Codex Immortus: Voin Zhenshchina [23 Posts] Codex Immortus: Comrade Frost [9 Posts] Flintlock 8 Posts Spirited Away [8 posts] Rev 39 Posts Do Students Ever Arrive Early? [2 Posts] Beauty is only skin deep [8 posts] Rush Hour [13 Posts] Pitching In [16 Posts] Ronin 1Post Giving up the Ghost [1 Post] Synth [Maxed] Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak [5 Posts] [Apply to the Red Rat] Bloody Mess [Maxed] Shaking the Branches [10 Posts] [Apply to the Red Rat] Lament 7 Posts 20 Questions [1 PP?] Reputations [1 PP?] Hell Q [2 PP?] The Room where it happens [7 Posts] GM 92 Posts Dry Run [8 posts] High Note [11 Posts] Lunar London [12 Posts] London Calling [10 Posts] Spark of Life [16 Posts] Deeper Underground [32 Posts] Bloodsong [3 Posts] MIsc Super Strength Roster 2018 (If worth anything, sling to the Red Rat) Guide point to Red Rat GM Posts: There should be enough to boost Lord Steam, Flintlock, Starshot (Although I think at 50 already), Red Rat, Mr Murk, Rev and Lament to 50 points [4 PP] If any left over, and of value, Ronin (by my calculations he gets boosted to 28 PP = 3 PP). (If I have made an error, boost LD, FL, SS, RR, MM, Rev, Lam in order to 50 Points, then if any thing left apply to Ronin)

Starshot The telepathic communication was becoming more familiar now, even if it was at the end of a tentacle. What manner of creature is that? he asked, pointing at the hairless bear. Friend, or foe? a reductionist question, but this was not the time for an extensive philosophical debate on animal behaviour, aggression, and culinary habits. Should we go around it, through it, or turn back? he asked. Personally, he would much prefer the middle option. He loved hunting, but there was a time and a place and a manner to do it; and neither of those parameters were present now.

Mr. Murk [At Restuarant] Mr. Murk tapped his way into the restaurant, savouring the aroma. Whilst he could sense the souls of all around him, chairs and tables did not have souls (leastways, most did not), and he had to rely on his cane and experience to navigate, which he did - passably. "Very nice, very nice. Compliments to the chef" he said, cryptically. "In such a fine establishment, Mr. Gorth, I would suggest finer fare than meat and ale. I can small fine spices and herbs. Mmmm...I have the taste for fish, myself!" He sat down and "looked" at Queenie directly, whilst not seeing her. "Back when I was born, we used to hunt and kill, roast meat on an open fire. I can smell it still. Ah! it did not have the elegance of today's food, but there was a certain magic, a certain ritual, to the act which bonded souls" he sighed. "I would make sure that nothing goes amiss, though, your highness" he smiled to Queenie. "I fancy somebody has wandering fingers - born from a lust for gold!"

GM And so, later on that morning...at Trafalgar Square... 'Twas the usual trudge through the streets of London, at Rush hour (such as it was for the city one hundred and fifty years ago), with the normal crowd surrounding him, blathering about Norway, Liverpool, Trolls and Giants. My, how the gossip spread and speculation consolidated to firm truth! The crowds pestering Dreadnought melted away, however, once they reached Trafalgar Square. The police had blockaded the square. "I'm very sorry, Sir!" said the captain in charge. "Can't let you in, on accounting of peculiar circumstances. Namely, science, sir. Yes, indeed, science!" said the captain, proudly. He pointed to a scientist, dressed in tweed, with various strange contraptions of magnets, and copper, and chemical reagants. "My word, thats Professor Worthington-Smythe!" noted Mr. Fiddle. "One of the finest minds at the Royal Academy! Nervous wreck of a man, too. But a fine mind, nonetheless!" "Indeed it is Sir!" said the police Captain proudly. "Serving King and Country with Science, so he is. So, if you would move along now, this is a matter for Scientists, not Liverpudlian giants, begging your pardon, Sir!" said the Captain giving an apologetic bow to Dreadnought.

Flintlock "Well met by midnight, Madam Moe!" replied Flintlock with a little jig and clap of her hands. "now, to business! Frozen corpse! Recently expired, one would presume...but should we presume...hmmm...hmmm...." "The priority would be, it seems, the possibility that the murder was recent and the culprit within our vicinity...mayhap to perform more villainy!" she took in the surroundings once more. "'Twas a struggle, it would seem. And I would be guessing the place was ransacked, our villain in search of something...mmm...but what? This was not a rich lady, it would seem. I've stayed in worse guest houses in Paris. And that, let me tell you, is saying something..." She tapped her foot pondering the nature of the problem and the key to unlocking it. "I could ask her, of course..." she pondered, indicating the frozen corpse. "Speaking to the dead is quite possible with the right ritual. Not very pleasant, though, and it would taken the rest of the night to set up properly. I would prefer a more elegant and swift solution!" She looked at Moe, wondering if the woman would have any smarter ideas!

GM Meanwhile...In a high-tech cave on the Moon... Vortex Ming was an exceptionally tall, exceptionally slender Lunar inhabitant, with very odd, misplaced eyes. Guardian of secrets for the Lunar colony, spymaster, manipulator, and genius, he was surprisingly nice in person. Or maybe that was his facade. Whatever, his reputation was generally well liked. He had no psychic abilities of his own, but had an unusual brain. It was completely impenetrable to psionics and mind reading. Perfect for his job. "I have some important information for you, Red Moon, some very troubling information. To do with Earth. And the Moon. And may be a little bit of complete destruction of the universe" he said, airily. "Would you let me in. Perhaps you have some of those Earth meats I like so much. What do you call them? Sausages?"

Flintlock "My name, madam, is Captain Anabelle Flint, of the Black Flag" she took off her pirate hat and bowed deeply. She almost kept her balance too. Just a slight wobble. She straightened up and stuffed the hat back on her head. "Most people know me as the dread pirate Flintlock!" she said, more proudly. "Although me lootin and pillagin days are done with. Not me drinkin days though. Plenty of drinkin days left!" she muttered. "Me and me heart crew of nearly alive pirates, we sail the seven dimensions, the ocean of all, on strange tides, and stranger lands, rootin out the horros from dimensions beyond the seven. Beyond reality itself!" she half-sang, full of drama. "On other days we just try to stop murdering and stuff" she conceded, sitting down again. "Now, I be a Shawshbuckling Sorceress, I can summon and command the things from beyond. And I know me seacraft. I know plenty of things. But I'm not one of these policecop people" she admitted, scratching her head under her hat. "Not much good in solving murders, much as I would like to!"

Flintlock "Never fear, Madam!" replied Flintlock, "I do not kill on Thurdsays! An inauspicious day!" she said, reassuringly, winking and tapping her nose. "What would Odinson, say, hmm? Oh probably nothing, just roar for some more Ale like the tedious bore he is!" she said, spinning around flinging her arms around to embrace the air. "However, this is a tragedy of Shakespeare!" she pointed at the frozen body. "Frozen! By the eleven dances of Murhani!" She peered over the body, smitten with frostbite. "A mystery! You aren't a frost giant are you? You look a little short to be a frost giant. A lot short, actually" she concluded, clocking the height. She slumped down in a chair, head spinning. "Uhhhn..." she groaned, and burped. "Pardon me! oooh...feel better now...." she said cranking her neck from side to side. "Now, what happened? I just heard a scream and ran in here. I guess you do the same?"