Supercape

So over the weekend and yesterday my mother was admitted twice to hospital, where she still is. It is nothing life - threatening, but still, taking its toll on everyone. Things are a bit pressed and chaotic. I will try to post where I am up, but for now, my energy, time and will to post are somewhat depleted!

Rene DeSaens The Dream The knight of many colours, they called him. Flamboyant cloths draped his banner and person, elegant and bright. He had fought in wars, battled demons, and rested the undead. But most knew him for his colours. He was too old to be a Knight, he grumbled entering New Camelot City on horseback. It had been years since he donned armour. And he could barely lift a sword now. Truth was, he had never been a great knight. At least in the classical sense. And now, he was too old to be one at all, by his estimation. “Sir Rene DeSaens!†Called the crier as he entered the castle, cold from winter air. It was better than the horseback ride that had lead him there. And the castle was rich, splendid, and warm to look at. With luck, he could soon find the real warmth of a fire, and rest his feet. He needed to rest. The dark skinned Master Zenon attracted a few looks. Younger than his master, but grey haired still, with a beaming smile and neat, less radiant clothes. Whispers were everywhere, of course, that was the nature of a Castle. A breeding ground for gossip and rumour, well fed by the relative idleness of the noble and wealthy. Rene grumbled into his quarters and gently lowered himself into an old oak chair, feeling the relief of sitting down on plumped cushions. Master Zenon seemed to carry on, oblivious, unpacking their luggage and armours with good spirit and boundless energy. Rene awoke hours later, having nodded off. He tried to feign it off, but his manservant was to astute to his ways to fall for it. “Hmph. I was resting my eyes, only for moments. Unlike you, I need to sleep…†he complained. Master Zenon, of course, did not sleep. On account of being dead. That hadn’t stopped him moving, of course. Sir DeSaens was further jolted to wakefulness by a crisp penetrating knock on the door. There was little delay, only enough to stave off robust complaints of rudeness, before a man entered. Young, muscular, with golden gleaming hair, and noble robes. A mid length, well fashioned sword at one side and an arrogant jaw. Lord Gently. “Lord DeSaens†he said, giving a filthy look at Rene and a filthier one at Master Zenon. “I did not expect you to sully this noble castle, and noble land, with your presence†he said haughtily. “We have no time for your sordid ways. Beelzebub and Mammon take you. And I would send you to them all the sooner†he said, barely containing the urge to spit at Rene’s feet. “By the grace of God, know that you are not welcome. Whatever tales are spun of your gallant past, they are mirrored and worse by tales of your Ungodly ways†he finished. Rene nodded lazily, his hearing apparently hard, his stupor apparently deep, although the appearances were deceptive. Despite his years, the word wounded him, reminded him of the lies and fear he had endured many times over. “Gods blessings be upon you to, my son†replied Rene, a smile on his lips that could not help but mock. The tales were of course true. Sir DeSaens had lain with men, and loved them. Such love was hidden and dared not speak its name. This time, Sir Gently did indeed spit, unable to contain himself. “I don’t need your prayers, Sir. You need mine!†he said, clasping his hands together firmly. “Prayers?†replied Rene, shaking his head. “Pray all you wish, Sir. But a million hands in prayer will not equal two set to work. Do you think it was Prayer that slew the Dragon of Avignon? That burned the Necromancer of Paris? No, it was I! My sword!†he said, standing up straight. He raised his hand and focussed his eyes. A sword of pure flame gushed from his hand, wielded as a livid whip, cutting through the air in front of his accuser. “The Devil’s work, say some, as if they knew. Non! Ignorance is no defence, Sir! You think your ignorance will shield you from my fire? Non! It is knowledge, wisdom, wit, that is harder and sharper than shield or sword. And I have it, Sir! And you…you do not!†he roared, alive now, his fiery blade, cutting the air besides Sir Gently’s beard. The young knight, aghast, turned heel and left, encouraged by the boot of Master Zenon that engaged his rear end with surprising force. Sir Gently sprawled onto the floor outside Sir DeSaens chambers, and, grabbing what tattered remains of his dignity survived, scampered off to distant stones of the Castle. Rene sat down, his fire evaporating, and fatigue overcoming him. “I have no time for such fools at my age, Henri, if ever I did†he sighed. “I leave that for the Gods. Non, now is the time for more serious matters. I dream such dreams, my friend…I dreamed I was in a city of steel, tall beyond any towers, with horseless carts powered by fire and smoke. Wonders of wheel and cog and lightning, everywhere in ze hands of hordes of people, swarming like ants. A place of wonder and coldness, liberty and loss†he said, clutching his head. “You know the dreamlands, my friend. I roam those plains with you. Reality is not real. And yet, whilst I dream this dream, a dream like no other, I recognised this strange city of my dreams. It was here, Henri, here by this castle, by these streets. And this I wonder, was it this world dreaming of my City of steel, or, as it felt, that the City of steel was dreaming this one!â€

A very good question! The answer I guess is partially. Can we go for immunity for now. I guess the anomaly will need to stunt to harm you...but for now Hronos immune!

Happy birthday Scuffles! Best wishes for health!

GM The strange anomaly, the projection of Collapses will, was driven by a single minded purpose. To retrieve the stopwatch. Whilst his "mother", at least loosely speaking, may have distracted him, the anomaly was still of singular focus. Again whipping through time and space, swimming through the dimensions as if they were water, the anomaly glided down towards the helpless Hronos, enveloping him in a crackling distortion, as energy and matter flew this way and that, seeking to bend, crush, and rend the artificial hero. "Hurts don't it" said John from across the jungle, exhausted. His call was half groan, half shout. Despite his own pain and fatigue, he couldn't resist the wise crack to the metal man who had destroyed his own dream.

Anomaly is going to whip over to Hronos, cant miss a paralysed target with an attack bonus of +20 So thats a DC 25 Damage save for Hronos.

Meanwhile, the Mess was feeling the pressure - quite literally, the pressure of the Battle brother squeezing his squat form. He strained against the grip, but despite his enormous strength, the grip was tight. His assailant was, he realised, as strong as he was, give or take. And he knew how to fight just as well. And he was facing two against one. Aside from that, the two brothers seem to fight like a flawless pair. In his head, he knew he was beat. Damned if he was going to go down bleating a like a lamb though. He tried to focus on the brothers blood, trying to thin in, destroying the cells. But he was too shook up, he couldn't concentrate or focus whilst in the grip of the brother. ...still ain't going to beg...he dimly thought to himself, as he felt the odds caving in.

Which is not much good. In which case, Ill use blood control array to fatigue him - I presume tactile sense comes into play so I can accurately perceive him. DC 20 Fatigue check I guess?

Done, can you post that?

A rather unspectacular: 1d20+24=30 escape grapple roll as move action. Lets see the result of that before standard action.

T Rex just bounding towards Hronos at full speed. Round 7: 66 - Velocity - 2 HP - Fatigued 51 - Anomaly - Injured x3 23 - John S - Bruised, Staggered - 1000' away, in jungle 22 - Hronos - 1 HP - in Jungle, Palralysed (DC 20 Will), 500' from Velicty and Anomaly 9 - T Rex - Unharmed Notes: Cold, Distracting (DC 5) Environment. Velocity is up!

Pitch took in the frenzied rain of bullets that followed her and splayed into the demons around her. It was hard to predict exactly what shape, size, and form a demon took. Laws of reality were torn up around them. She was damn glad bullets seemed to hurt them, though. "Keep firing!" she said, not looking behind her. A small part of her brain wondered just how much ammunition they had. She hoped it was enough, but they could be in for a lot more. As the smoke and fire of Tazel washed over her, she crouched forward and tried to jam the Cantos Cane into the ogre. The hissing screech of the cane once more pierced the air, a horrible tritone in a horrible language. This time, she pushed forth with all her might, concentrating on subduing the demon.

Ok time to take down one of the ogres - at least, I hope. Lets try the Mind Control again. Starting out with a bluff as move action: 1d20+9=27 Which I hope flat foots it, in which case Ill jam the cane hard: 1d20+8=23 should hit. And its an opposed roll again: 1d20+10=13 ok, Im really not having that! I will spend an HP to reroll. 1d20+10=24 is still rather poor.

This all adds up to me! Magic Focus / Breadth is an individual thing, really, up to you! I'm sure you will get a feel in play when you road test how broad you would like it, it depends what suits you! Powerstunting is fairly staple here, and a great mechanism, so dont feel shy about using it. APPROVED

Cool. Magic is a bit more focussed which is nice (you may find the reality alteration thing a bit too broad, I dunno - I guess road test it and feel). Complications nice, all rounding up! I made a correction for you on Defence - its +4 base, +4 dodge focus, +2 flat footed. One typo, I think: Healing is empathic, not emphatic! (although I like the idea of emphatic), could you correct (presuming I have this right!) One last thing I missed, so sorry about that. Equipment protection and power protection (force field, in this case), cannot be stacked according to core rules (p134). I guess that needs a rethink.

Strange laws of time and space were not a surprise for Rene. Just as they were bent and broken in dreams, so they twisted and turned in every world - after a fashion. It was a matter of perspective. The practicalities were not lost to him. No door in meant no door out. Of course, the routes in and out of reality were myriad and subtle, leaking to and fro. Reality was fragile, and one could find ways in and out, hidden and surprising. But the solidity of a door behind your was much more reassuring. "A school! I approve!" he said, heartily. Whatever had lead him here was quite probably still observing. No need for coyness on his part. "Let us see what I can learn!" With that, he pottered off, slowly, towards what he judged the biggest building with the grandest entrance.

On the stairs, Harry the Hound looked at the fighter square in the eye, wimpering with fear. He would liked to have said it was an act. But much as he would have liked to, it wasn't true. The act was not an act, he looked like a startled, scared dog, because that was exactly what he was. His eyes glanced up at the stairs. Fear lent him wings, but not a compass. It commanded "away!" without thought of where away might be. Without further hesitation, he let out a bark of fear, and scampered up the stairs, higher still. His ears and hair stood on end, alert to any new threat, his eyes dancing around, vigilant for any further fist or knee...or even worse. Fortunately he was to scared to scare himself further with ideas about exotic weaponry.

Ok, Hound will bound away, looking (and being) scared! Running up the stairs some more - this time with Speed 1 thanks to morph. So Move Action is movement, Standard Action, full defence.

Happy Birthday Thevshi!

I might skip that I think...for now. But noted! cheers.

Ok for reference switching his dream array to astral form and trying to get inside. May need a GM fiat, of course!

"Nobody polite is at home" answered Rene, not pleased. He patted his pockets for a notepad. But found none. "Paintbrush? Wallet? Pocket watch? Comb? Snuff box without any snuff? Jelly baby?" he asked in succession, emptying out his pockets, of which he had more than a few, and all slightly dusty. "But no notepad, I am afraid. I did not come prepared to sketch" he sighed. In retrospect, he thought, one must always come prepared to sketch. "I don't wish to intrude on a man's privacy" he muttered, annoyed with himself. "I could make ze door invisible, or leave my body and traverse through the dreamtime to see inside" he explained. "But this would be intrusion. Still, we have come so far, and you cannot pick ze lock. I forget how to, myself" He knocked once more, hard, more out of irritation than hope. "Enough then..." he said, slumping down on the other side of the corridor, and closing his eyes. In a few moments, he was asleep. And he felt his psyche arise, soft and weightless, to float through the door...

After discussion with Vahn, who is to put the Stopwatch in his internal chamber with the essence of time, we have agreed the following effects: 1. Functions as an internal chamber feature (-1 HP, which he doesn't have...but...) 2. He suffers a paralyse DC 10 effect from the scrambling of time on his system (1 HP back) 3. Vahn is choosing to auto fail the first roll, thus gaining 1 HP more (total 1 HP) and suffer the paralysed result. and... 4. Whilst the STopwatch is inside him, he is temporally supercharged, gaining +4 ranks to all time powers, but whenever he uses these powers, he automatically gains 1 injured status from the damage this supercharging causes. Post away, Vahn!

Pitch crouched ever so slightly, awaiting the onslaught. "Get behind me!" she shouted to her gunsling companions as the demons advanced. She spat out the last few shards of black metal from her mouth. They left a smoky, rusting flavour, she noticed. As the dog approached from the left she turned and jammed the Cantos Cane into its Jaw. The goats heat smoked and flamed, and sang a horrible latin verse in a wailing screech. "You are mine, dog!" she said, focussing her power onto the demon to chain it to her will, bind it to servitude. As she brought her power to bear, she felt and heard the imp flying above her, its horrible leather wings beating a horrible beat. She lost concentration, for a moment, turning to bat away the imp. And that seconds lapse lost the binding.

1d20+10=14 bah! She keeps a move action, so will try an intimidate on the flying imp: 1d20+9=28 is more impressive (-5 for move action, +2 for favoured enemy)