Ari

Good plan. Marduk(using a tweaked version of the Corrupt Sorcerer) decides that assault is the better part of valor and blasts Glow, dropping his Blast's rank down to 5 due to Villainous Overconfidence. Attack roll: 15. DC20 Toughness roll, please. Marduk Initiative, 15. Rapidsfire's(not a typo of mine) Initiative, 21.

GM With a cold hiss like ice in the heroes' ears the shadow snake whipped around, observed the blazing creature that had passed too close to it, and surged forward with impossible speed. Looping its coils around El Heraldo it tightened its lifeless body with a savage jerk about the kid, pinning his arms to his sides and resisting the tremendous effort that nearly freed Subito with imperious ease. It turned its wedge-shaped head so one enormous and bottomless abyss of an eye could inspect its new prey. "You are not the traitor." it said quietly "but your life and light will serve us for food."

"I think Astro Gal's and Interior's families live around here" Heraldo commented as he scanned the snake for a possible weak spot, glancing at Adamas the young paragon took a moment to add drily "I doubt they'll be able to help out, though!" Turning back to the incoming snake, his eyes lit upon a spot close to tail 'There! If I can hit there, it'll have to spin around and leave itself wide open for Adamas! Did you not heed me on the tail matter? Yeah yeah, I know, this will work, just watch' Heraldo thought confidently, swooping over the vast monster and lashing out at its hide with a fist glowing gold with power, shouting angrily as the muscular boy missed by a mere inch, his momentum carrying him just beyond his massive and snaking adversary. Putting on the figurative brakes, he slid to a temporary halt, whirling around for another pass and taking a moment too long to get ready.

Seeing as Scuffles brought us to this grand point, leaving it in her hands.

That hits. DC20 Reflex save: 12. GM Fiating a reroll(+1HP to Adamas): 31. Okay then. Heraldo moves up to the Snake, and Accurate Attacks(-2 Damage +2 Attack) with his Strike: 19. Missed! Fang attacks EH: 22. Hits. Grapple check: 38. Heraldo's opposed Grapple check: 24. Rerolling(2HP)37. Heh. Grappled. Round 2.

And we're in combat. First with this T-Rex! Initiative rolls, please. T-Rex: 15. Heraldo: 22.

GM Korzeel smiled thankfully at John, the dignified woman replying "We have many able hands already, John. While I have no doubt you could teach us a thing or two about building and the science of engineering, we are going to leave this city soon and return to the villages once this trading matter" she nodded at Zandar nearby, who was in deep discussion with one of the Nova Romans "is settled." Seeing his confusion she explained "We of the jungle tribes have no real use for cities, even ones as well-fortified as this. We can't stay too long in one place or we risk driving off the herds of dinosaurs and mammoths, and the longer we remain here the greater danger there is of attack by the more vicious beasts of the jungle!" she took a massive bite out of the steaming dinosaur leg on her part of the table, munching for a few moments before she added with a dry smile "We only come here for reasons of state. The Incas and the Romans would never come into our huts to talk over things of import." Leaning against her rough-hewn chair, she ate quietly, lost in thought. Suddenly she spoke "I am glad you and the others are here, I have heard rumors of moveme-" the rest of her words were lost in a sudden catastrophe outside, a sound of tearing, crushing, snapping wood, heavy and ponderous footsteps, screams of terror and deep-throated roars! In a moment Zandar and Korzeel were out of their seats and grabbing their spears from the smoke-stained wall, charging out the door! Zandar paused on the threshold to stare at what he saw outside, turned to the Claremonters and yelled "Arise, friends from the other world! An army of dinosaurs has entered the city!" With a crash and rain of bone fragments the roof of the hall smashed inwards and crushed the table and the feast, driven by the head of a roaring and grey-skinned Tyrannosaurus Rex! As one the Viracochasuyuns and Nova Romans jumped away and rushed for the weapons on the walls, shouting furiously as they laid plans to destroy the beast!

Initiative post EH: 18. Snake of Apep: 6.

Alright, time to give Gallia a taste of her own backhand! Explosive Card Attack on Gallia: 14. reroll(2HP): 19. +10 from the reroll makes it a 29. Anti-concealment roll: 5. You win this r-oh wait, she hasn't won yet. Free Action to suggest a strategy to Rene.

Subito laughed at that, momentarily forgetting where he was and getting a few dirty looks from a few disturbed students "Hahahaha! Yeah, I'm not nearly as flexible as Cerys or a lot of the other guys, it'd probably twist my legs to try anythin' like that." It took a couple minutes of slow adjusting and shuffling in place, but at last Subito managed to get his powerfully-built form into a more or less relaxed position. Carefully easing his arms, legs, chest and head until he felt completely at rest, the stocky Puerto Rican remained still for several seconds, then a hazel eye opened and he whispered "This is real nice. I can see why people do this." he remained quiet for several more seconds, then added "It's kinda boring though. Can I do stuff while I meditate?" he asked, sounding almost hopeful.

Heraldo all but glared out the back of his head as his eyes wandered through the cold sky "She probably does, seeing as I'm her boyfriend and all. We-hey!" he had very suddenly realized what the thin black spiral in the sky was. Pointing his Banner of Victory at the shadow serpent, he cried "It's some kind of monster from the darkness! Up there, near the Moon." he shot off through the air in a streak of gold, racing towards the distant otherworldly beast! 'Herald, keep from its tail Will do! And give Darren a kiss Oka-oh shut it! You cannot see it, Subito, but I am smiling' Calling back to the dazzling boy he shouted "It must be what Apep sent to kill the Hand! C'mon, Adamas, we have to get to it before it reaches any of the houses! There isn't a moment to lose!" he bellowed, rocketing at full speed in a blaze of patriotic power through the cold winter sky for his oily, writhing foe.

What do you say, TheAbsurdist? Scholar, Solar Sentinel, Stormbreaker, and Victory?

GM In a moment, the demonic carapace was torn away from the three possessed humans, and their normal selves blazed free before Changeling's eyes. Each of them stirred, felt the other person nearby and hastily got to their feet, holding their bruises(and in the young woman's case, gash) in pained hands. The man who had been about to fling a fireball looked around in horror, from the broken window to the bloodied Arnold to his wounded comrade. "Did-did we do this, brother Simmons? Can you remember anything Leah?" he asked in horror, eyes glowing and ageless words seeping from his mouth as he stretched out a hand and began to mend the woman's torn side. Leaning against an damaged pew, Leah winced as the flesh reknit itself "I can't. But if we did anything evil to you guys, I'm very sorry" she told Changeling and Crow earnestly. The older woman was already sketching out a small circle on the floor "Dis is three blocks up the road. In that old townhouse, 3327 West Gold Drive. Nobody else in there, we might be the only ones he had" she shrugged and gave the two young heroes a sad smile "'Fraid I'm useless in a fight with a thing like that, darlings. Arnold, you go with them, make sure they get in right." with that she bent back to her circle, from which cold flames were springing in miniature around a tiny house. There was no more talk Arnold shrugged his tight shoulders and led the way down the street, pointing out the house as they approached it "It's been abandoned for years, asbestos in the walls, gas leak menace before its pipes were dug up and rerouted. Makes sense that's where some demon would make his lair." passing up the decrepit lane leading to the tilting, ramshackle Victorian house, the three were doing splendidly until Arnold tried to open the door, which caused a small green rune to appear on it, and he only got his hand off the handle in time to avoid the dart of fire. A fine mist appeared around the house in the same moment. He glanced back at the two "I'll leave the breaking and entering to you, if you don't mind. There's a shield of some sort."

Why would HE start whaling on El Sierpe & Amigos first? It's not like he's supposed to be impetuous or somethi-wait.

"At once!" the King of Suits said promptly, waiting for Catalyst to take the lead back to her van before falling in step behind her. "I am glad you stayed with that alien. I'm sure I would have had considerable difficulty getting anything like that out of him." he ruefully commented to Jasmine as they raced for the transport. As they strapped in for the drive back to the mad shapeshifter's lair, he suddenly stopped, turned to Catalyst and asked her "By the way, where are the hostages in the building?" The heroic chemist's request was received with initial dubiousness from the security chief, but after the revelation that their shapeshifting enemy was limited to the bodies of men he quickly agreed. The Lab was known for its equal opportunity hiring policy, and that night it payed off better than anyone could have guessed. The drive back to their starting point, the lofty(although stubby) grey skyscraper opposite Suzerain Labs, was a refreshing blur of action after the last hour or so of tedium, the two heroes arriving with a soft grumble of the brakes in front of the suddenly forbidding place. By now the police had arrived and were combing the alleyway and rooftop for clues as to what exactly had happened. A few officers looked surprised at the pair's arrival and more than one officer began to move closer and offer to help, only to be barked back to their job by the grim-eyed sergeant who nodded shortly to the King of Suits and Catalyst before turning her attention back to the crime scene. Marceau entered the building for a brief moment, politely informing the very jaded-looking young receptionist at her desk just past the double doors "Miss, I am sorry but I must ask for the codes to this..." he glanced surreptitiously at the nearby plaque reading 'Wrenworth Tower' "...tower. A villain has hidden himself there and has with him a number of innocents. For their lives, we must have that code!" he cried with an imploring look. Without even glancing up from her monitor as she typed away, the receptionist replied "0451, lemme know when you're done there so management can change it." Blinking in surprise, the lean King of Suits beamed and dashed out, calling back "Thank you!" The basement wasn't hard to find, a short flight of stairs on it's eastern side led down to a green door locked electronically, a grimy and scuffed numperpad on the wall beside it. Tapping in the code, the King of Suits gently opened the door, stepping slowly backwards when it revealed total darkness within, a musty draft and air smelling sharply of corrosive chemicals. Slipping on his night-vision goggles and readying a coil card, he said quietly to Catalyst "If it's all the same to you, I shall go first."

"I'm glad you're okay too, princess." Heraldo called glumly after Blodeuwedd, levering himself to his feet with great difficulty and having to rest on the magnificent Banner for a few moments, the healing having taken a lot out of him. Bowing his head, it was the work of a moment to erase the bloodstains and tears in Kit's clothing, which vanished and were mended under a faint stream of gold light. Surveying what was left of the crowd, the bedraggled youth quietly flew over to them, repairing his almost totally incinerated costume with a brief flicker of power as he went, not bothering this time with the hat, which wasn't quite suitable for the weather anyway. He moved quietly to whomever was left, briefly explaining that while neither he nor anyone else at the moment knew for sure what was going on, apparently the archer heroine had been kidnapped and replaced with a robotic duplicate, possibly as an assassin of some kind, "As soon as I know more for certain" he told all of them "I'll try and let you know. But odds are folks from the Lab or the Freedom League will know all about whatever this is long before me. I-I'm sorry we couldn't stop her before she killed those people. We'll make sure that this never happens again." While he spoke, he let the Banner flare, bringing a renewed feeling of hope swell in the hearts of those around him. That done, and not knowing what else to do, he gathered the bodies of Hammerhead and the other T-mutants who had perished in the attack, carrying them to the stage while he listened for further orders. '"Foolish heroes" it said. I wonder what other clichés it would have spouted before it exploded?'

GM It didn't take long to find the kitchens, where the King of Suits was certain they would do best to start sowing their pretended plot. It was enormous, several times larger than any castle kitchen René had ever seen in his life. Amidst the riot of gnomish Fey scurrying about the floor of bricks turned as red as the fires that blazed in massive ovens and baked the air itself(though oddly this made breathing no harder), food of every description on their backs, in their hands, on trays, platters, rolls, spikes, swords, shields and fancy hats, one tall whip-thin raw-boned creature in iconoclastic blue smock and green apron with knife-shaped ears, flashing white teeth, a prodigious black beard and flowing black mane that almost hid his beady red eyes stood on a small platform shouting orders that were lost in his minion's shouts of affirmation, the cries of anger and vicious battle that ensued from accidental collisions, the slam of ovens, smash of crockery as it was flung about(occasionally with food still in it that went to a tragic fate) the massive and cramped kitchen, the constant din of food frying, being chopped or boiled or beaten, and his need to continually lay about him with a copper ladle. Seeing their approach, he reached down to dash two Fey in the midst of a snarling quarrel together, tossed them carelessly aside to fall in a heap among their pots of stew and soup, and greeted the humans with impeccable warmth. "Earthly ones! Please forgive the slight disarray of my small domain" he said with a bow, one ear twitching as a distant chorus of howls and whoops erupted from some distant part of the kitchen. The walls and misty ceiling danced in the firelight and the shadows of the cooks, and it was all but impossible to guess distances. Leaning closer to the two on his pedestal, he asked with a grimace "What are ye about here? Parsinkle sent you on a tour, eh?" he frowned at Marceau "I didn't know you had a darkling, wizard, good company I guess" he commented to the painter.

Whirling around as the unfamiliar voice rang out, Subito beamed in gratitude and shuffled a little to the side so Mali could have more space. Shaking her hand powerfully and marveling at her grip, he replied "Subito, pleased t'meet ya!" he vaguely remembered her from Tona had arrived, but otherwise they hadn't bumped into each other. 'Cerys told me that she was a badass, and it looks like she wasn't kidding!' he thought admiringly, detecting her strength. Taking up the position she'd told him, he he went ram-rod straight, maintaining perfect posture. Slowing his breath he asked "So..how will I know I'm doin' this right?"

Their Will save: 10. Dis is blown clean outta their minds!

Noir!KoS Player Name: Arichamus Character Name: Roi "King" Suvou Power Level: 6, 90/90PP Trade-Offs: None Unspent Power Points: 0 Progress To Bronze Status: 0/30 In Brief: French immigrant come to Freedom to aid some family members caught in shady dealings. Alternate Identity: The King of Suits Identity: N/A Birthplace: Rheims, France Occupation: Tailor Affiliations: French immigrants, those opposing the Freedom City Mob, Justice Family: Description: Age: 23 Apparent Age: N/A Gender: Male Ethnicity: Algerian/Kenyan Height: 6'4" Weight: 200lbs Eyes: Blue Hair: Black Roi Suvou is a tall and gangling man, with an engaging smile and a pleasant manner. He keeps his hair short enough that the lines of his skull are faintly visible, his bristling beard trimmed with all care, and his clothes in excellent condition despite the occasional need to patch and darn them. Power Descriptions: Roi has no powers, but he does own a mysterious deck of playing cards that holds both mysterious power, and a spectacular curse. By all appearances it is no different than any other battered deck of cards in the French suits, but when their strange energy is drawn upon the cards tend to glow softly with a red and white light that deepens all shadows, and speak faintly to everyone nearby, offering them power, fame, a lover, anything they most deeply desire. History: Born in Rheims in 1919, Roi's life was, while hardly luxurious, mostly happy and peaceful. The dreadful Great War still hung heavy on people's shoulders, but as an energetic and perpetually happy child he did a lot to ease the pain his parents had over the loss of so many friends and kin. His mother is a busy and deft seamstress, and his father is a skilled and restrained maker of boots and shoes. During his childhood years, he mastered the craft of throwing small rocks, pebbles and whatever came to hand at objects the size of pebbles, something he kept up with vigor throughout his life. While he was still a child, Roi found a deck of brilliantly painted though worn cards hidden behind a loose panel in his father's shop. Excited at this treasure, the boy searched through it to make sure all was accounted for, only to find that the Ace of Spades was missing. Of course his mother and father knew nothing about it, as they had no way of knowing that it had been put there by the last occupant of the shop before he fled the country, the latest in a line of wretches brought under the accursed deck's whispered promises. The deck had passed down through the ages since the days of Joan of Arc, a powerful weapon created by a young sorcerer who sneaked a devil inside, the weapon changing shape into a form most innocuous and portable for the age. Naturally, this was not known, and blighted no hearts except Roi's, who could never understand why some things he did just...went wrong. As he grew and matured, his parents and their friends watched with no little relief as the enthusiastic boy took readily to his mother's profession, revealing a keen mind and a sharp eye for details as he experimented with the fine art of cutting, sewing, folding, stitching, arranging and creating beauty with cloth. As well, he threw himself wholly into something that warmed their hearts even further: aiding others. No matter the trouble, if Roi learned of it, he would dedicate every available hour to its easing and the redressing of wrongs. This often, sadly, got him into trouble he could rarely deal with on his own, such as trying to prevent a local group of bullies from terrorizing the smaller children at school. But his selfless actions soon won the heart of many who lived around him, and when at last he was old enough to start hit own tailoring business, he was never long without work. His nickname came from the dead-obvious play on words involving his given name and the well-made suits he became known for in his part of town, as well as simple fondness. Not all of his family was so lucky as Roi, however. Several of his cousins, aunts and uncles had moved to the United States of America after the war, either in order to find a new life after their old one was destroyed, or to seek out better prospects, or a simple desire to move. Many of them had crossed the sea over to the famed Freedom City, where unfortunately they had come under the thumb of the crime bosses that ran the city's underworld. Upon learning of this in 1934 Roi immediately packed his bags, took his tools, manifold bolts of cloth, some money and his lucky king of spades, and boarded a ship for the city. He was determined to help his kin, whatever terrors these American gangsters might have in store. He didn't know what was to await him there, or that his luck was soon to run out... Personality & Motivation: Roi is by inclination a gentle and honest man, forthright to a fault and always eager to speak his mind. Powers & Tactics: Roi prefers to charge in, treating even the most serious of fights like more casual boxing and wrestling matches. If he finds himself up against a threat even he can see that won't work on, he switches to his mysterious Deck of Fools, creating a clamour and blaze of light, swaying the emotions and wills of others like trees bending in the wind, slashing with suddenly razor-keen cards, or flinging cards that land like lead weights. Complications: Fatal Flaw: Bleeding Heart Roi is all too easy to make a sucker of if someone tries to play on his heartstrings. Cursed Weapon The Deck of Fools is fated to bring all who use it to ruin of every kind from financial to physical, and if anyone can master the thing and defeat its curse, Roi isn't. Chivalry A believer in a fair fight, no matter if his opponent doesn't. Pardoné? Roi still isn't quite perfect with his English, meaning some figures of speech, allusions or particularly uncommon words might go clear over his head. No Killing Seeing as he's both a foreign national and a softie, killing his enemies isn't in the cards no matter who they are or what evil they might do if left alive. Vigilante tourism is not his bag. "Well of course I know what I'm doing!" Nervous about being in a strange land and among unfamiliar people, Roi is often much too defensive when it comes to offers of help. Abilities: 2 + 6 + 2 + 4 + 2 + 6 = 22PP Strength: 12 (+1) Dexterity: 16 (+3) Constitution: 12 (+1) Intelligence: 14 (+2) Wisdom: 12 (+1) Charisma: 16 (+3) Combat: 6 + 8 = 14PP Initiative: +3 Attack: +3 Melee, +6 Ranged Grapple: +4 Defense: +6 (+4 Base, +2 Dodge Focus), +2 Flat-Footed Knockback: -1 Saving Throws: 2 + 3 + 2 = 7PP Toughness: +0 (+1 Con, +0 [Other]) Fortitude: +3 (+1 Con, +2) Reflex: +6 (+3 Dex, +3) Will: +2 (+0 Wis, +2) Skills: 52R = 13PP Bluff 8 (+11) Craft (Artistic) 4 (+6) Diplomacy 8 (+11) Intimidate 6 (+9) Knowledge (Current Events) 4 (+6) Languages 2 (English, French(Native), German) Medicine 4 (+6) Notice 8 (+9) Stealth 8 (+11) Feats: 16PP Accurate Attack Attack Focus (ranged) 3 Benefit (Wealth 1) Defensive Attack Dodge Focus 2 Throwing Mastery 3 Equipment 1 [5EP] Improved Aim Power Attack Skill Mastery 1 (Craft (Artistic), Diplomacy, Medicine, Stealth) Sneak Attack Takedown Attack Powers: 17 + 1 = 18PP Device 5(Deck of Fools; 25PP Device; Easy-to-Lose; Power Feats: Restricted 2(One Victim Only))[17PP] Lengthening Breath 10(20PP Array; Power Feats: Alternate Power 5)[25PP] Base Power: Blast 5(Extras: Autofire; Feats: Improved Disarm, Knockback 2, Mighty 1 [Damage 6], Precise Shot)[20PP] AP: Confuse 6(Extras: Area(Perception, Visual Senses), Selective Attack; Flaws: Sense-Dependent(Visual Senses); Feats: Reversible)[13PP] AP: Damage 5(Extras: Penetrating 5; Feats: Mighty [Damage 6])[11PP] AP: Emotion Control 6(Flaws: Sense-Dependent(Visual Senses); Feats: Mind Blank)[7PP] AP: ESP 5(250ft.; Visual Senses, Auditory Senses, Tactile Senses)[20PP] AP: Obscure 3(25-ft.; Visual, Auditory; Extras: Independent, Selective Attack)[15PP] Speed 1(10MPH, 100-ft. per Move Action)[1PP] Drawbacks: (-0) + (-0) = -0PP DC Block ATTACK RANGE SAVE EFFECT Unarmed Touch DC16 Toughness (Staged) Damage Blast Ranged DC21 Toughness (Staged) Damage Confuse Perception DC16 Will Save (Staged) Confused Damage Touch DC0 Toughness (Staged) Damage Emotion Control Ranged DC16 Will Save Emotion Changed Totals: Abilities (22) + Combat (14) + Saving Throws (7) + Skills (13) + Feats (16) + Powers (18) - Drawbacks (0) = 90/90 Power Points

Semi's pointed out that on the face of it, this is kind of arbitrary, so I'll explain. This meeting, going to the city and the feast is basically the placid starting point before all the crazy happens. The actual plot will show up in a second. So...backtracking on what I said earlier, length of posts is not an issue if you want to write a lot or respond to something in a thorough fashion. Sorry for the confusion.

GM note: guys, as part of the problem it's not for me to say, but I'm requesting that we start using shorter posts so this can move ahead at a quicker speed. My apologies, I enjoy reading your writing but I don't want this to drag.

Go right ahead.

Yeah, not seeing the point of deferring there now...

The King of Suits ducked and weaved with all his might and skill, but still he found himself hemmed in by a massed crowd of society folk! Struggling futilely in the morass of humanity the King of Suits shouted out angrily "Curse you, Jeanne! We shall be fr-oh!" he yelped as Gallia blasted into the magician's fog, accidentally leaping backwards into a handsome young French gentleman wearing period clothing. Recovering himself he resumed "They only march to your beat because your mind dominates theirs! We'll break the hold you have on them, false spirit!" He struggled against his bonds, trying to find a way out of the press of bodies. He managed to get his left arm free, and he forced a few of the fellow visitors a bare step back, but that was the best he could do against the weight of his fellow man. Drawing an explosive card from his sleeve, and nearly straining his wrist doing it, he balanced it by one corner on his forefinger and aimed at the murky figure of the glowing madwoman "René! If you know how, tell me how I can draw the crowd from you!" he flung the slim package of explosives straight at Gallia, barking in frustration as it sailed right by her ear to detonate on the far wall before regaining his composure. "You have a chance of beating her, I'm rather less qualified!" he managed a laugh, but he was feeling deeply unsure by now.