Too Many Questions, Too Few Answers...(IC)

[Dr Archeville]

As the door swung inward, and the charnel stench hit them, a deep, throaty growl came from the air near Dead Head. "Burning dead!" a voice barked out!

Mutt charged in, fading partially into view as he went. Most of him remained semi-transparent, but his burning crimson eyes and slavering fangs were all too solid. He howled as he went, a soul-chilling sound that the cultists knew heralded vengeance for all the unnatural acts they'd committed.

"They're what?! Sons of-" Dead Head spat as he followed suit, charging in -- far faster than any shambling zombie should be able to -- and clobbered two cultists with his trusty shovel as he made a beeline for the head cultist. "D'y'all know who I am? I'm one'a the heroes what sent Baron Samedi an' Hades both packin'! Ya think ya can do somethin' they cain't?"

[Quinn]

(DM)

The head cultist stared with cold burning eyes as his followers fled in different directions, the last two still steady on their feet taking positions on either side of him. He looked down from his podium at Dead Head, extending a single finger.

"Interloper! You dare defile this most sacred of rituals?! The Horned One's servants will rend the flesh from your bones, creature, and you will feed the infernal machine that shall bring his mighty form and power to this earth!"

He cast his hand into the air, incanting strange and guttural syllables, as crates fell open around the circle. Moaning and shuffling, a mob of zombies came shuffling out, treading on the cultists still gibbering in terror on the ground or bumping into those still gazing in horror at the spectral dog standing over the fire. The mob moved as one, trudging towards Dead Head as their master laughed aloud.

"Go, servants of the Horned One! Protect thy master that His work may be done!"

And, dramatically lifting his hands over the podium, he began to incant in harsh quasi-Germanic words, making strange hand gestures as the fire pit contorted and strange symbols began appearing above the flames. The ground began to shake, and a low chanting echoed throughout the air, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.

[Quinn]

(GM)

A troop of five zombies shuffled up to Dead Head, eyes blank and hands grasping, wildly swinging their fists in a desperate attempt to hit him...most of the blows seemed to go wide, two of them striking the Revoltin' Revenant to no effect. As they struck, the chanting in the air rose in tempo, the priest's face beginning to turn red as he roared out the strange and arcane words.

[Raveled]

Ironclad rose into the air until she was level with Cobalt Templar, setting herself before a different window. As many different paths of attack as possible, and all that. When the zombies started shuffling forawrd, she focused her attention on the chanting priest. The heroine narrowed her communication link with Dragonfly to a bare thread and brought her weapons to bear on the robed figure. She hovered there in the air for a moment, lining up her shot, before releasing a heavy barrage of near-light speed particles, the flesh lighting the warehouse for a moment.

[Quinn]

The barrage enveloped the high priest, smoke and ash completely covering him from view. As the cloud dispersed, a pair of glowing red eyes seemed to glint briefly, the priest continuing to chant, while a large figure in vague remains of purple robes stood and stared malevolently up at Ironclad. His skin was a patchwork, as if different parts of human bodies had been melded together into one figure, and a large burn mark stood quite prominently on his chest.

Whatever this thing was, it'd taken the shot for the priest!

[Quinn]

As the explosion died down, a pack of zombies looked questioningly between Ironclad and Dead Head, before surging towards the deadman in a wave of rotting flesh. Fists pumped like pistons, five of the ten zombies landing clean blows which he easily shrugged off. The rest milled about, vainly attempting to swing or push past their fellows as they swarmed the ghoulish hero.

[Fox]

Cursing, Dragonfly quickly brought up her defenses - a twisted, distorted outline appeared about an inch around her profile, and a little light or two flickered on inside her gauntlets. force field - shield - support - suboptimal range calculating....

Putting a hand up to either side, reality folded inward around her...and she disappeared, reappearing in a similar and simultaneous fold about fifty feet from the action. Both gauntlets were glowing neon blue at the seams and glass as she turned a critical, combat-ready eye on the mob. She was thankful, this time, to have an operational visor; this was, she observed as her headgear helpfully painted little notes onto her HUD for each new calculation, quite a lot of targets to try to track by memory. even with perfect memory - focus - limiters off - charge complete

Bringing her visibly distorted hands together, the young inventor formed a twisted rift that hurt to look at and unleashed a mass of graceful, arcing lance-like distortions at Dead Head's mosh pit, each glowing a subtle blue as they curved through space to their assigned target.

wish I was better at quips - 'chew on this'?

[Quinn]

The zombies went flying, lights dimming in their eyes as they hit the ground around Dead Head, the energies holding them together forcibly cut. The head cultist screamed a curse as he continued gesturing over the flame pit, staring at Dragonfly and Dead Head with looks of extreme hate.

Push, on the other hand, was a different story. He'd seen the others go in guns blazing, and cursed the loss of the element of surprise. But then, on the other hand, they'd just waxed the floor with a small army of foes, so there was something to be said for that. He charged in behind Dragonfly, watching as Ironclad unleashed a fusillade of blasts which nearly disintegrated the podium, but left the head cultist intact while some....thing protected him. Making a snap decision, he swung his arm forward, feeling the familiar rush of energy as the kinetic force roared from his arm with all the force of a speeding car straight at the head cultist. The blast shot across the distance, a warp in the air that struck the chest of yet ANOTHER construct, which had leapt down from the rafters to take the blow. It took one step back as the blast splashed across it's chest, a deep bass grunt bubbling up from it's patchwork mouth, and it also stared malevolently at Push, as he took cover behind a crate.

Well, that could've gone better...

[KnightDisciple]

Cobalt Templar's eyes narrowed as battle was joined. No reason to sit up here gathering wool. With that thought, he let himself drop altitude until he was just inside the door to the warehouse...and within range of the same creature Push had just struck.

"Time to focus fire a bit."

With that, he manifested a rather beefy-looking gun and fired at the horrific golem. A short burst of searing blue shots ripped forward, striking the beast directly in the chest.

[Quinn]

The shots struck cleanly on the golem's chest, blowing small holes in it's torso and causing it to stagger briefly, before regaining it's footing and stepping back into position. The two flanked the Head Cultist as he continued his gestures, an arcane wind beginning to blow throughout the building and sending a chill down everyone's spines.

[Dr Archeville]

"Focus on th' Head Cultist!," Dead Head called out as he charged towards him, "he's doin' some sorta ritual! Best we- dangit!"

The revenant had charged up with his shovel ready to knock out the cultist, but a towering flesh golem interposed, and the shovel struck the patchwork's midsection.

"Oh, as if burnin' bodies weren't bad enough!" he shouted at the Cultist, "y'all gotta go an' make these?"

Mutt charged towards the Head Cultist from a different angle, hoping to flank him, but a second flesh golem interposed, throwing one arm up into the spirit-dog's mighty jaws of doom.

[Quinn]

"These mighty constructs are extensions of the Horned One's will! The apotheosis of our faith! Tireless, imposing, the mightiest creations on this feeble world!" The cultist roared, wheeling his arms in circular motions as the four golems leapt upon Dead Head, their sledgehammer fists pumping like pistons in his direction.

"Worthless shells, raised by the Horned One's glory!" He practically screamed, eyes flashing maniacally as the remaining ten zombies swarmed over Dragonfly, swinging their arms and moaning plaintively, the stench unbearable at that close range.

"We shall ascend to the side of the Horned One, as he covers this world in a tide of fear and destruction! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The head cultist cackled, laughing his evil laughter he thrust an arm forward, a gout of flame spurting up from one corner of the triangular firepit, forming a strange rune out of fire that simply floated there.

[Raveled]

Ironclad was peeved that her supercharged attack had been intercepted, but as she dialed the power back to a safe level a slashing warning caught her eye. The overcharge had set off a feedback loop in the flight system of all things, and the armor's safety systems were shutting it down. The armored heroine managed to her her feet on the ground before she lost all support, staggering a moment as the buoying force of her etheric drive cut off abruptly. She hurried through the open door in time to see the horde of dead men descend on her friend and fellow superheroine. Ironclad's heart leapt into her throat and she charged forward, intent on saving Dragonfly.

[Fox]

She saw the zombies coming. She truly did - they were awfully hard to miss - but she'd stood her ground, throwing up one hand, spreading her fingers, and.......nothing. The next second or so was a blank stare, her mind racing. what - shield down - know I readied it - where is - attack drained too much power! - won't be ready for several - oh god

There was a lot of cursing across two languages as she disappeared under a small pile of zombie flesh, ranging from generic epithets to accusations about the zombies' maternal ancestry. Then a moment of terrible silence...before a twitching, neon blue blade-like construct of broken space burst out of the back of one of the zombies (oddly, without actually causing a hole; the way the flesh buckled around it was fairly gut-wrenching, though) and swept across through some of his friends. Having bought herself a little room, Dragonfly bent space around herself and disappeared, reappearing in a matching distortion a good ways away from the nearest zombie or cultist.

She winced, holding one of her arms with one steaming gauntlet as the blade fragmented and disappeared. "Hate. Zombies."

[Quinn]

Push's eyes grew round as he saw the zombies pile onto Dragonfly, vivid memories flashing in front of him, masses of dry husks barreling towards him, grasping hands, rotting teeth, and that smile...the smile of Scratch...

His face contorted with rage, seeing the museum once again in his mind, as he vaulted onto the crate, yanking his hammer from his back. His mouth open in an earsplitting roar, he slammed every ounce of kinetic energy he had right into that oversized weapon, draining straight to his core ...

"NOT! AGAIN!" He spun the hammer around his head, whirling it as a massive warp in the air erupted around the head, wind screaming and crackling far louder than the small shot he'd thrown earlier. "NEVER! AGAIN!"

And running to the edge, he leapt off, spinning the hammer once more and bringing it down upon the ground with an almighty crash, feeling the energy flooding through the haft and into the ground. The concrete floor buckled, cracked, then dented deep, the blow echoing outwards in a mammoth wave of force that overturned crates, cracked metal supports, and actually buckled out the warehouse walls, shattering the windows on the ground floor. Zombies went flying, hitting the ground hard and shuddering as their own essence flowed out. The golems, on the other hand, fared slightly better. Two of the golems were crushed by the sheer force right out, each flying through a crate and staying there, legs sticking out from the shattered wood, while the other two barely managed to weather the blow. The remaining two golems crashed hard to the ground, lying prone as the wave's backlash washed over them.

Push stood there, the ground dented beneath the hammer, and his eyes started to blank out as the sheer rush of power blew through his body, frying him almost from the inside-out. His hands unclasped the warhammer, and he fell to his knees, mumbling "Not...not again...I won't let you...have them...again..."

He stared at Dragonfly, blasted off her feet and hitting the ground with a very final thud, and he extended a hand, before crashing to the ground himself. His vision blurred, and he himself fell into blackness.

Damn...

[Fox]

Dragonfly barely finished making sure her systems were back and charged before someone shouted something and the ground...lurched. She threw out a hand to try to land on the shield that twisted into being at her fingertips but she was too off-balance - the edge of the shield caught the edge of the ground and only served to twist her to the side, pulling her off her feet.

The floor was, helpfully, there to catch her fall. All she remembered was the warehouse turning upside-down, rushing up at her (awfully dirty - ought to get it cleaned - encourages rats - took forever to get out of my home) before her head met concrete and she blacked out, a crack shooting across her visor as it, too, learned that warehouse floors aren't very forgiving. Her force field stuttered, confused, and unfolded back into normal space; as her visor similarly stuttered and dimmed and her gauntlets powered down, the little icon that showed her active link to Ironclad's suit froze and then blinked out of existence, complete and utter silence on the crumpled, surprisingly frail-looking figure's end of the data stream.

[KnightDisciple]

Cobalt Templar's eyes widen as the furball continues. Dragonfly took the rest of the zombies down, but Ironclad had been forced to land. And then Push pulled that crazy stunt of his, knocking out Dragonfly alongside those golems! He needed to act fast.

Dismissing his gun, and summoning a giant two-handed war maul, he charged at one of the flesh golems that still stirred in movement.

"You should stay down!"

The hammer struck true, excess energy flaring as Cobalt Templar delivered a vicious blow to the beast. Hardly pausing, he skimmed the ground until he was standing over Dragonfly's prone form. The hammer faded, and a surge of raw blue flame flowed around his right arm, before flying at the other golem that was still struggling to find its footing. This attack also struck true, even as he called out to the remaining conscious heroes.

"Focus on the head guru! I'll handle the cheap Frankenstein knockoffs!"

[Dr Archeville]

"Guys, he's 'bout ta summWHOA!" Dead Head tried calling out to his new allies, but Push's hammerstrike turned the warehouse floor into a roiling wave of wood and concrete. The zombie stumbled and lurched, and, amazingly, remained on his feet!

Need ta thank Hellion for them surf lessons!

"We gotta stop 'im now!" he yelled (partly in anger at the cultists, partly in anger at Push for wrecking so much destruction), "'fore he summons... whatever it is he's summonin'!" The Revenant swung at the lead cultist, but the minor unsteadiness he still dealt with from the hammerstrike thre him off just enough to miss.

Mutt had slightly better luck, running across the air to bite at the Head Cultist. But the spirit-dog was also foiled, by the unholy power of the Head Cultist's force field!

[Quinn]

The aftershock of the quake even shook the cultist, and he screamed several foul words in eldrich languages as his golems were thrown every which way. The language became even fouler as the mighty Templar smote one down and nearly destroyed the other, which was even now attempting to climb to it's feet. An arduous process indeed as the building began to shake, and things began to fall down, shingles, crates and the like.

Cursing, the Cultist windmilled his arm again, a second rune appearing over the fire pit on the farthest corner of the triangle, and new runes appeared up the sides of his robe.

"Foolish mortals! This is only a minor setback to me! And soon you will feel the wrath of the Horned One for your insolence!"

[Raveled]

Ironclad saw Push charging some kind of energy with her all-around vision. Her super-quick mind worked out the math and she slowed her pace for a moment, then jumped just as the kinetic shockwave sent the ground shaking. She still went to one knee as she landed, though, feeling her shin bark against the interior of her armor. She bit back a yelp of pain and struggled to her feet just in time to see the last of the zombies fall and the remaining golem get its feet under it. A quick glance through her sensors confirmed that Dragonfly was guarded. Possible strategies raced through her mind, but she quickly settled on one.

The powered armored heroine rushed the remaining flesh golem as she frantically worked her suit's internal systems. Her etheric drive was out, but the energy was still there. Hypothetically, she could reroute the power to take advantage of dormant subsystems, bypassed in normal operation but now potentially useful. Her activated the suit's lifting servos, immediately increasing her lifting and crushing capacity by many-fold, as she closed to closer range and grappled the unnatural creature. There was a moment of uncertainty as the pair warred back and forth, then Ironclad gave a battlecry all out of proportion for her size and lifted the beast by main strength.

She oriented herself on the head cultist, still lost in his chants to the Horned whatever. "Shut up for a minute," she growled. "And don't hurt my friends!" She screamed again and hurled the creature at its master, hoping to crush them both and end this fight.

[Quinn]

The golem flew through the air, arms spinning as it tried to slow it's descent...to no avail.

As the cultist mouthed more ancient words of power, his eyes widened as the great mass slammed into him with main force, a loud CRACK! coming from where the construct's spine would be. It flopped to the ground, the force field around the head cultist seeming to blink briefly as the runes smoked and burned. He clutched at his torso, breathing heavily and looking dizzy. The flames leapt high, seemingly attempting to reach into the rafters, but the cultist turned white and barely managed to resume his chant, the flames returning to the size they were before, and the smoking runes still hanging in the air.

[KnightDisciple]

Cobalt Templar took a moment to glance around. Seeing that all other enemies had been felled,he felt it would be alright if he moved from his post next to the unconscious Dragonfly.

That he moved at high speed directly at the head cultist, well...That was more than coincidence.

"I say thee nay! You shall not finish this ritual!"

And as his arms swung downwards, a huge sword of blue flame manifested in his previous empty hands.

He struck out with a punishing blow, before winding back and giving the foul man another attack, hoping to drop him here and now.

"Fall! Fall, blast you!"

[Quinn]

The Head Cultist visibly seemed to wilt before the blaze of glory charging at him, but he rallied and pushed outwards, the wards around him causing the blows to rebound with no effect.

"Hah! Thou seest the power of my lord! I shall not fall while his might fills my very bones! Thy allies have fallen, thy attacks do naught! Thou art a fool!"

And he roared another chant, deliberately ignoring the Templar while his hands contorted and the flames seemed to dance before them.

[Dr Archeville]

The revenant let out a high-pitched whistle, "Mutt! Sic 'em!"

When most people hear someone call to a dog with a command to "sic 'em," they expect the dog to come at them from the ground, fairly low, and so take appropriate defensive measures. Holding the arms up and close to the chest, and keeping one eye low to watch for attacks to the legs. However, most dogs cannot run on air as well as solid ground, so Dead Head and Mutt take advantage of this by having Mutt "sic" their head and shoulders from above, an angle of attack most do not expect. And while Mutt did that, Dead Head would move in with his shovel, aiming for the legs while the target was busy fending off the dog attacking from above.

Which is exactly what happened here. Mutt attacked from above and behind, distracting the Head Cultist enough for Dead Head to get in two solid hits to both his knees.

"Good boy!" he told then dog, then turned to the Head Cultist, "as fer you: sit!"

Despite the obvious pain the blows caused, the cultist remained upright!

[Quinn]

The cultist stayed upright, gasping out words from the ritual as best he could under the circumstances. How could this have happened? The brotherhood was strong, all dedicated to the cause, and yet these interlopers destroyed the Master's greatest servants, dispersed his followers and sent them fleeing into the darkness...the ritual...the ritual must be completed! If his followers flee, then only he would recieve the glory that the Horned One would grant him!

Rallying once again, with a dazed and crazed look in his eyes, he waved his hand over the flames once more, and they leapt into the air. A third rune formed over the last corner of the triangle, and the three began to rotate as the runic wards on his robe began to sputter and smoke.