GranspearZX

Fortitude Save: 1d20+12 29 Reflex save: 1d20+8 19

Done! Knowledge (Life Sciences): 1d20+4 19

Marcus instructed everyone he passed to get back to safety and to help the wounded. He paused when he saw the sewer worker. This was bad. Certainly worse than he thought. His first move had to e a calculated one, and he wasn't at all ready to unleash the Beast and Fire runes together at their most potent. Yeah, that would have to be a VERY last resort. "Soul of the Beast, spirit of savagery and stability..." Marcus clasped both his hands together; the Earth Rune on the back of his right hand and the Beast Rune burning through what was left of his hooded sweatshirt. Dust and an ominous rumbling rose from where he stood as his obscured form grew within the burst of magical energy. When it subsided, Arcturus stood--his right arm still broken. He winced, immediately regretting transforming with a broken arm. That, for now, didn't matter. The great bear leapt out of the subway car and raised his right foot, slamming it as hard as he could into the ground. The earth beneath him shuddered and a pillar of solid rock fell from the ceiling; Arcturus struck it as it fell, reshaping it as impact and sending a giant stone first hurtling at the fungus. He hoped that would get its attention. He wasn't entirely sure what was going to come after that.

"They might. They might not." Liora smiled. It was the kind of smile that only someone certain of fate's general trajectory could make. "But I suppose worrying about it now is something of a wasted effort." Liora clasped both her hands behind her back, moving beside Queenie to enjoy the view. She started to speak again, switching to English "I apologize. I sometimes forget how often I take these sights for granted. Sometimes I struggle to remember what they looked like on Tetragenesis III..." She paused, quietly considering the fact that she really wasn't sure how she felt about her homeworld not existing anymore. It wasn't exactly a sad story and she'd had so much time to come to terms with it--especially since she'd seen it long before it happened--she couldn't even be sure if her reactions were really appropriate.

"Ow!" As the man grabbed him and leaned in, he pressed against Marcus's arm. Marcus reacted, shoving the man hard against the wall with his left hand. The Beast Rune reacted in kind and Marcus snarled at the poor, panicked soul, enlarged canines bared. It took a second before he realized what he was doing. "...sorry. Watc the arm." For several moments, Marcus didn't say a word, letting him explain. He was certain that the man wasn't infectious, at least not in the way that the others were worried about. It reminded him more of poison ivy than anything else, and while that was annoying, it certainly wasn't fatal. He was starting to get angry. He still had no idea what had caused the accident, but he had his suspicions... there was something he was missing, but he couldn't figure out what. Giant ants and mutant fungi. What are the odds. "Wait here." Marcus really wasn't sure how to deal with this. He had to check for more survivors, but this fungus... this metal-eating fungus... how was he supposed to handle that? There was only one safe way he could think of, but he hated doing it in cramped spaces. Civilians seeing his animagus powers wasn't going to be pleasant. So far, he'd avoided a panic, but it seemed that avoiding that was going to be even more difficult. He sighed and started forward, the way the man came from, faint embers dancing at his fingertips in anticipation of what he might have to do next.

(This is for a potential guidebook entry because why not? --GranspeaZX) A Primer on Runic Magic and Elemental Theory Marcus G. Irons One of the most fundamental lessons of magic is learning what exactly magic is. It is not inaccurate to say that there is no definitive answer; for all of the universe's rules, there are many exceptions. Codified magic, however, follows a strict order that, while not always predictable, provides a solid foundation for the practice of certain branches of magical theory. This paper will cover the most fundamental basics of terrestrial magic, and from there, elemental theory through the lens of runic spellcasting. What is 'magic'? Magic is everywhere. At its core, magic is simply energy, and it exists in all things. Thus, the theory that anyone can use magic is a valid one. This is not a complete truth, however, as the average person cannot access magical energy at will. This is largely because the most basic magic requires two separate energies--internal and external. Internal magic is something we are all born with. Every living creature contains this, and it has many names--essence, spirit, and chi are but a few. This internal spark is what allows us to shape the world around us, even without the use of magic in the most traditional sense. External magic, by contrast, is the latent magical energy that exists in the world around us. There are a number of reasons for this, including the existence of elemental dimensions in close proximity to our own (some believe the Terminus is one of those dimensions). Everyone is not only born with internal magic, but they are also born with a limiter. Think of it as an invisible barrier between one's physical body and the outside world. This barrier actively prevents one from affecting the other. This natural defense against magic is stronger in some than others, and training in magic that isn't purely theoretical and academic is often geared towards poking holes in this barrier. Training both the body and the mind becomes immensely important, as the acclimation to the flow of magic is what every practitioner of the arcane arts will fall back to as a substitute for this barrier. The sudden loss of this barrier has proven to be maddening at best, and some theorize that this had led to a number of epidemics, such as widespread lycanthropy. Runic Magic Runic magic is a broadly scoped field of study. Its nature is forever expanding and evolving because we, as humans, do the same. The fundamental definition of runic magic is the magical art of transferring a word into magical energy. Theoretically, internal magic gives a word magical form, and the user creates or rewrites the external energy around him with the resulting power. There are a number of theories that support the power of a word; throughout time, knowing an invoking the True Name of a being gave one tremendous power and control over it. As humans, we name everything because identifying things gives us some control over them. A rune is simply a medium, and most runes are only fragments of a True Name. Runes can represent anything, from something as concrete as an object or elemental force, to something as abstract as a feeling or a concept. Because runic magic is rooted in language, the power behind a rune is almost natural for human beings to grasp, as many of its concepts and the way it interacts with the world at large is universal. [Work in progress!]

I might need that coin again after all. He could only imagine what Teresa would think about him even considering this. The Wound Transfer spell was intended for physical wounds; he could heal those pretty easily on himself compared to something potentially viral. And he could smell something fungal in the air. Something in his head clicked. Mutant fungus... Hm. Something about it seemed off. He couldn't tell what. "If he was contagious, you'd have it already. These subway tunnels aren't THAT well ventilated." Marcus winced inwardly, absently realizing that might actually cause even more of a panic. Hell, he wasn't even sure it was true. He looked at the swollen man and continued forward. ""Back up. I'm gonna come out there, and you're gonna tell me what you're running from."

Marcus shoved the enchanted quarter back into his pocket with his good arm. There was no way he was using that again any time soon. Natural healing ability or not, a broken arm hurt. A lot. It was making it hard to concentrate on anything. "I guess you weren't as hurt as you thought..." He smiled, despite the nauseating pain pulsing through his arm. The Beast Rune was doing its due diligence in trying to healing him, but it wasn't exactly an instant process. The sounds and the smells instantly put him on edge, and Marcus forced himself to focus. "Get everybody who isn't too banged up over here. Keep away from the windows." He stood up, staggering a few steps forward as he cradled his right arm against his body. He wasn't exactly sure what he was going to be able to do with one arm, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying. He inched forward towards the noise. I really hope it isn't actually a giant ant...

Marcus was outwardly calm as he moved in the direction of the voice. Even in the dim lighting, the man's arm was clearly broken. "It's gonna be okay," he said, his voice even and unwavering. "Help is on the way." Inwardly, he was freaking out a little. I wish Teresa was here. She was an EMT; this was what she did every day. For all his magic and the Beast Rune's power, it took him a minute to even remember what search and rescue protocols were. He could feel the anxiety building. He didn't have time to think about his broken magic or his wounded pride. All he could do was offer what help and comfort he could. He ripped the sleeve off of his hoodie. "Hey... don't zone out on me now. You're tougher than this; I can tell. What's your name?" As he spoke, he tied the sleeve as tightly as he could to slow the bleeding. It would buy him time, he hoped, but he wasn't sure how long. He had to think of something else... anything else.. He shifted his weight forward a bit, wincing a little as his hand pressed against a piece of glass. He shook his hand out a bit and, as the small cut closed up... it hit him. "Listen. I want you to close your eyes for me, okay? I promise, this won't hurt..." Not you, anyway. First, he needed a medium. He stuffed his hand into his pocket. A quarter? Perfect. The animagus pressed it between his palms. He began mumbling under his breath. Hidden inside his clasped hands, the faint light of Lux and Tenebrae swarmed inside his palms. It had been a while since he'd actually needed to make a runestone for any reason... and under normal circumstances, a proper stone would take hours to make. This man didn't have hours. Several minutes passed. Marcus separated his hands. The glow from them stopped, and in its place, the coin glowed with the silvery white light of Lux, the Light Rune on its tails side and Tenebrae, the Shadow Rune on its heads side. He placed the coin on the man's chest, heads up. "Vulnere... Transfero." Blackish-red skeins of light shot up Marcus's arm, simultaneous with silvery blue ones down the injured man's shoulder. The first thing Marcus felt was the bone snap in his right arm. His eyes blurred as he gritted his teeth against the pain. When the magic subsided, the man's arm was practically brand new. Marcus's... not so much

This is PERFECT then. Well... not ideal. Medicine: 1d20+2 16 I forgot the -2, so that's 14. Stopped the bleeding, at least! But... I'd also like to try something. Arc's going to have a mini-crisis here and realize 'hey... I can make magic things!' and jury-rig a runestone from a quarter with the following effect: Healing 8 (Flaws: Empathic, Limited to Others) [4pp] Essentially, he's going to try and heal this guy's broken arm by taking on the injury himself.

So Arc is going to try to help the guy with the busted arm... no Medicine skill so what's the DC for first aid?

Who has two thumbs and is willing to GM a thread? THIS GUY. Now, it's been a while since I've done it so I'm probably going to start small with one, maybe two characters at a time. I have a few story seeds in mind but if you have a suggestion or a particular character you want to put through the proverbial paces, feel free to let me know.

REF save: 1d20+8 23 And Arc avoids being ragdolled around the subway car!

The accident was sudden and jarring, and the impact caught even Marcus unaware. It wasn't his first crash--the crescent-shaped scar above his left eye was proof of that much--but it still wasn't any more pleasant. He, at least, had magical protection. No one else as far as he was aware was that lucky. It took him a moment to get re-oriented. His first thought was to check on the kids and the businessman, forcing himself upright in order to move in their direction... "Is everyone okay?" he called out to no one in particular. In the sparse lightning, he could see--not particularly well, but he'd manage. The screams weren't at all encouraging either... It sounded likethey'd hit another train. And that was the best case scenario. His only other thought was to reach for his cell phone. If this accident was as bad as he feared it was, there was no way he was going to try and extract survivors on his own.

Marcus didn't really enjoy public transportation. Not necessarily because of the people, but because it always held the potential that he'd fall asleep and miss his stop. Between school, training, his job, and his real job.... things were busy. Of course, it wasn't as if Marcus couldn't get around any other way. In fact, if he worked at it, he could probably make something that would make his life easier. After going months without the use of magic, though... he had to admit, the normalcy felt kind of nice. From behind his geology text, he chuckled at the businessman's incredulous rambling. If you only knew the kind of stuff that goes bump down here... Pretty sure the demon rats avoid those. It took Marcus a minute to realize the guy was staring at him as he spoke. "Oh. Uh... I'm sure most of that is exaggeration. Stuff like that sells more papers. Such is the game, I guess."

Sense Motive: 1d20+6 13 No luck for Arc!

Tagging for roll call purposes!

Origins IV: Recovery Marcus could never be 100% sure what happened. He did remember blacking out. He vaguely remembered the sound of a car and a voice yelling at him. As it stood, he was in a hospital bed, unable to recall the last time he'd ever been in one. The whole thing was weird. There was a doctor hovering over him as he came to. "Well then. Good morning Mr. Irons. How are you feeling?" "I've been better." He started to sit up and the room tilted. Okay. That's new. "Whoa, hold on, son. You've been unconscious for two days. Hit your head pretty hard, I'd say..." "I hit my... what?" Marcus didn't doubt that was true, but he was certain there was more wrong with him than that. He could feel it. Concentrating on the Beast Rune, though... that was still there. It was different, but as he focused on it, the sudden vertigo began to wane. He lifted his right hand to his head, finally noticing the bandage above his left eye. "Nothing to be alarmed about," the doctor assured him. "You might have a little scar there but there's no fractures or internal damage. I'd say you were pretty lucky." Lucky. There was a word Marcus wasn't in any mood to hear. "How did I get here? I don't... remember anything." "One of our medical students brought you into the ER. She's doing her rounds, but I can have her stop by-" "Nah, that's not..." He paused. He didn't want to be rude. It was likely that she saved his life. He also didn't want to stick around the hospital any longer than necessary. "It's fine. You can thank Miss..." "Romero. Teresa Romero." "Right. Tell her thank you for me?" "If you're planning on leaving, that's not going to be happening any time soon. I'd still like to look you over, run a few tests... you were pretty banged up when you got here and--..." At that point, Marcua tuned him out. He had other problems to solve, and that wasn't happening from a hospital bed.

Once they were able to breathe a bit more easily, Liora considered her options. There was no use in speculating just yet, but her mind was certainly open to a number of scenarios. She had to be. 'Rule nothing out. All things are possible.' Words her father lived by. As the moved through the hangar, Liora mentally reached out to Cavalier and Moon-Moth. Now was as good a time as any, she figured. She wasn't even certain it was necessary yet, but it was better to err on the side of caution when it came to these things. Everything looks like business as usual down here so far... Not sure if that's good or bad. Liora didn't sit down when they reached the conference room; instead, she put both hands on a chair once the group settled in, leaning forward a little. After piloting the Kavaca, she really didn't feel like sitting down again so soon. "So what exactly has been happening here?"

@%@'d in the Woods by HGM Arcturus (3pp Available) Adding Fearsome Presence 3 to Feats

Spectra's first reaction when she spotted the massive cruiser on the way in was a simple one: she was glad it wasn't her in there. The entire situation with the Khanate was somehow both complex and deceptively simple at the same time. Still, she wasn't sure how to feel about it or the Star Khan. She understood all too well what a commodity sovereignty was, and after so many people had fought and died to pick up the pieces of their lives, for anyone to come through and tell them that it was all for nothing... It wasn't a great feeling. She didn't like it. Never mind the dubious nature of the claim that anyone was speaking on the Star Khan's behalf... She wasn't in the room, but it was hard not to think about. Nevertheless, she found Queenie to be a welcome distraction. "I wonder what this 'ambassador' could possibly need to discuss. And in such an ostentatious way, at that..."

"Liora Sylestrin. A pleasure to meet you--circumstances notwithstanding." The volcanic atmosphere made everything feel oppressive and grim; she could't help but wonder if that was some sort of indicator for how this entire thing would proceed. Still, she smiled, allowing the others an opportunity to indroduce themselves. It was a tactic she used often; while very well could have introduced them herself, it would establish far more individuality and equal weight among them, ultimately giving the group a far greater presence in the minds of anyone they encountered. This wasn't her first rodeo. "Perhaps we can continue with the details of the situation somewhere a little more... ah... breathable."

Origins III: Rebirth "As a matter of science, it took a considerable amount of force for something to cause a quake miles underground. While the Cult of the Beast Rune was no stranger to eldritch accidents, the violent rumbling caught everyone of guard A group of the cultists, led by a figure in a black robe, paused just long enough to see a door at the end of the hallway burst off its hinges and into splinters, filling the area with an acrid smoke. "Seems your window has closed," he said, a swirling black vortex appearing behind him. Before anyone present could object, he stepped into it and was gone. In the next moment, a figure burst from the smoke. Arcturus in his bear form was scary enough, but this was different. His eyes were a vibrant, angry green, the golden glow of Terra, the Earth Rune shining across both his hands. The cultists drew their weapons and Arcturus drove both his palms into the ground, sending a wave of huge rocks shaped like fists into the group. The great bear stood upright and the runes covering his hands shifted, turning from yellow to the green glow of Atmos, the Wind Rune. His giant form shrank, transforming the mage into a large humanoid tiger. Wind kicked up in his wake as he sprinted forward, over and past his unconscious captors. What... what is this? This is you. This is us. This is the balance we agreed upon. But I can't... are you doing this? Trust me. You'll thank me once we leave this accursed place." ...so that's it then. No hostile takeover? Is that what you want? The conversation continued as Arcturus tore through the underground labyrinth that was the Cult's base of operations. It seemed like forever before he could smell fresh air, rether than the stagnant, moldy scent of the caverns and corridors below. He could see armed resistance flooding the area as he moved, stopping just long enough for the runes adorning his hands to change color again, this time from green to the fiery red of Ignis. Flames engulfed his form as he shifted; cultists with bows fired and missed as a great, red-winged bird shot into the sky, out of reach into the horizon. Where are you taking us? Home. ...how do you even know where that is? That isn't the question you should be askng. When this is over you may feel some... discomfort. What did you do?! I did nothing. Or rather, I did what I could. The rest is entirely up to you. What is that supposed to mean? As Freedom City loomed on the horizon, Arcturus stopped hearing Animus's voice. How long had they been flying? he couldn't really tell. More importantly, as he noticed the nimbus of flame surrounding him hadn't faded, he realizedd his wings weren't moving. He wasn't flying. He was falling.

"You'd think mining operations in a place like this would be dangerous enough," Spectra mused to herself aloud. She was mostly concentrating on where she was going than the things the ship passed, but she still had a habit of working random thoughts out aloud rather than in her own head. She landed the Kavaca without too much difficulty, and proceeded to power down the ship's engines. Spectra nodded in agreement as Moon-Moth spoke. She couldn't for the life of her figure out why others found his speech patterns to be so difficult. Then again, she'd spent much of her life learning to communicate with others, even without the aid of her psychic abilities. For the most part, their perspective of the situation was the same. "I don't nkow if there are any physical casualties, but, the way these things go... material losses are just as bad to some of them. Everything is a resourse. I wouldn't be surprised if they saw us as one as well..." "There are all sorts of rivalries and competition across this planet," she added. "Usually these things work themselves out on their own, but if someone is escalating things with industrial accidents... well, I'm fairly sure any of the corporations involved could cause a trade war or worse. I suggest we tread lightly." She lowered the doors to exit the ship, putting on her best, diplomatic smile. "Shall we?"

Origin II: Recall It started well over seven years ago. Marcus was surprised he remembered it so vividly, practically the entire day. He'd never been much for birthdays. Ever since his mother left, he hadn't really felt like celebrating them. It wasn't because of any particular memory that he was clinging to or anything quite so dramatic. It was more of a melancholy feeling that it was a day like any other. There would be more significant birthdays than his 15th. His father, though, was having none of it. Marcus was almost certain that his father dragged him all over the city that day. They went to see a movie early in the afternoon, then a hockey game. His father even bought him a jersey and, by the end of the night, four players had even autographed it for him. In hindsight, the entire night was pretty incredible. In hindsight, his father knew he wasn't going to be a free man for much longer. He didn't know what his father had done then. The monster he became, the destruction he caused. As they drove home that night, they ctalked about a lot of things--more than Marcus could ever remember talking to his father. When they arrived, however, the tone changed a bit. He didn't notice then, but his father seemed notably more edgy and tense. Nothing seemed amiss to him until after he'd gone to bed. The first thing he heard was the downstairs window break. Marcus immediately sat up and grabbed his baseball bad,. He wasn't sure what he was going to DO with said bad, but better safe than sorry. When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw the entire scene, adrenaline and panic racing a everything felt like it was slowing down. Four armed men. His father on the floor. Panic turned to rage. One of the men saw him, but didn't expect an immediate reaction from the teenager. He definitely didn't anticipate the boy leaping down the steps with that kind of ease and taking a swing at him with the bat. One of the other men grabbed him to try to restrain him. The rage kept building. And that's when he heard it. "Let me in." All he could really remember was the desire. It burned, and he wanted these men gone. His first thought, however, wasn't to harm them... but to protect his home and the only family he had. Someone or something was offering him the tools to do exactly that. By the time it was over, all accounts were the same. A 15-year old boy turned into a six-foot tall bear in the middle of his living room and physically threw at least two of the men out before the tranquilizers managed to deescalate the situation. When Marcus came to, he was in the hospital., and Duncan Summers was sitting at the foot of his bed. All at once, he learned who he was, what he was, and where he came from. He learned he could never go back, and his only path was forward. "It's up to you to choose how, kid." That was what he said. Years later, it turned out that much was still true.