[User]
 On the 4th of October 2016 at exactly 3 minutes and 46 seconds after Midday Greenwich Mean Time, the voice of God spoke unto the Peoples of the world. The sky was rent and his voice reverberated the very stones of the earth and from the heavens above.

 THE FORGIVENESS OF SIN IS AT AN END. THESE ARE THE TIMES THAT WERE FORETOLD. THE END OF THE THIRD EPOCH DRAWS NEAR.

The voice was heard by all, even those whose ears were deaf to the sounds of the world.

The reaction was instant. Many died- strokes or heart attacks when their mortal frame was unable to contain what they had heard. Others were killed when they lost control of their vehicles, or were crashed into by others who had lost control. Planes rained like steel rain on the lands of man. An hour afterward the Philosopher Richard Dawkins suggested on the internet it may be some form of mass psychosis. Within eleven minutes his body hung from the nearest lamp-post, and the injuries wrought upon it were grievous to behold.

All mankind agreed that this was the voice of God, but there was no agreement as to which God. Within days the lands surrounding Israel were radioactive glass, and all attempts to visit the Holy lands there are met with force. There was a ten minute nuclear interchange between Pakistan and India. The Government in Delhi- or what passes for government in that country wracked by civil war, blames Pakistan. The Pakistani government, along with its citizens, lies silent- dead in ruins caused by atomic fire. Smaller religious conflicts have sprung up at hot-spots the world over.

In America Evangelical cults call Obama the Antichrist and question why he has yet to relinquish power. Mass suicides, including one strychnine and soda prayer meeting on the white house lawn, are met with the official response that suicide is a sin. In England King Charles the third, Carolinous Rex- fidei defensor, as head of the church is monarch in name and in deed.

Others feel that their sins, no matter how minor, are beyond redemption. The only option left to them is to enjoy what time is left to them, either in mindless bacchanalia or by committing any transgression they please.

The world is changed, faith is all that matters, yet life continues.


[User]
 You stand on a small ledge before what appears to be an enormous double door, nearly 20 ft. tall and of a similar width. It is constructed of a black material unknown to you, but most reminiscent of ceramic. Faintly glowing runes spider across its surface, thousands... no millions of them, that seem to shift in some unknowable pattern across the doors' surface. Around you swirls the Astral, endless silvery sky as far as the eye can see. And floating in the Astral, directly opposite the door, is an entire legion of devils.

  "The doors will remain open for but a moment, so you must enter quickly. Our reports indicate that all cells, except for the Final Imprisonment, have been opened. We believe that the Intruder's goal is to destroy the wards of the Final Imprisonment. Your task, which you are being extravagantly compensated for, is to stop this from occurring. Here is a copy of the Contract, signed by all parties."

The white-haired, slightly portly old man holds out a scroll. One could mistake him for human if not for his small horns, forked tail, and eyes like pools of black oil.

The doors begin to swing open, revealing an enormous hallway stretching into darkness.

  "Oh, one other thing I should mention. The Sentinels, if any remain, will treat you as intruders. Quickly now, we wouldn't want anything to escape while the doors are open."

 Spoiler
The hallway is 30 ft. wide and 50 ft. high, and made of an obsidian-like stone. It extends at least 100 ft.

[User]
 Hoss laughs and laughs and laughs.  "Now now...we know I am a far greater threat than anything held within this cage. In fact I would say they're luck to have escaped my attention for so long by hiding in there!

Nothing to worry about; I'll make sure this whole mess is sorted out within the eon."  The skeletal being faces the other 'people' gathered to do Hell's dirty work and even the magical darkness  suffusing it's body cannot hide the charisma dripping from bones. If he still had a face he would most likely be smiling widely at the moment.

 "Shall we? There's fun to be had in there!"  Hoss glides forward at a steady, relaxed pace; more than willing to lead the group into an ambush perpetrated by creatures even Devils fear, but not quite up for spending that extra bit of effort to pick up some speed.

[User] Freed at last, how long has it been?  the wizened orc woman says  Let us hope it's not so long that I've forgotten how to kill  she says with a chuckle that continues long after it should stop. She steps through the doorway.

[User]
 The great shimmering ooze vibrated slowly and your minds and ears are filled at the same time.    <We will see what can be seen. What new forms can be discovered. What new things can be eaten. And the payment... sweet delicious astral crystals. We will not fail to consume this intruder.>

Ten pseudo-pods lurch forward; eight clawed at the end, four with shaggy white fur, two with scales, and two that drip with ichor; the other two were without claws, though one had scales of its own. Propelled by these ten slimy appendages, the ooze crawled through the gate slowly.

[User]
 The man steps forward in measure, reading over the details of the contract with something akin to curiosity. This could help his goals. It seems he is to be working with monsters, but it's nothing Death's Shadow hasn't seen before. Behind his mask, a pair of green eyes glimmer in anticipation. It's the most display of emotion he's allowed himself in nearly a year.

As he hears the voice in his mind, Aerin smiles inwardly.   <As long as you let me land a couple of good hits first, we won't have any problems.>   His search for more magic is ceaseless, without end. He's looking forward to meeting this 'Final Imprisonment'. Twirling his luminous knives, the man steps forward, and through the door.

 Spoiler: OOC
I've got my spells up, and I'll roll Knowledge in the OOC.

[User]
 You move down the hallway at a steady, but leisurely pace. Small sconces set into the walls glow with a faint blue wyrdlight, reflecting off the glassy surfaces of the obsidian-like walls. The result is the disturbing, constant movement of light and shadow across the walls. Smaller passages branch off from the main passage every 100 ft. or so.

Behind you, the doors close with a resounding  boom , which strangely fades to silence almost immediately. The faint, spidery runes are visible on this side of the doors as well.

Several minutes pass... when suddenly several devils sprint out from a side passageway ahead of you. Scrambling around the corner, they begin to race directly towards you. A third, just a couple seconds behind the first two, barely makes it into your hall before a huge whirling saw blade lashes out from the side passage, slicing the devil in two as it screams out in pain. The wielder of the blade  crashes out of the passageway and into view -- a metal monstrosity of iron clockwork gears, shearing blades, and hammer-like arms.

 Spoiler
 Light : Shadowy illumination.  Distance : The first two devils are 80 ft. away. The metal monstrosity is 100 ft. away.  Other : You notice that sounds are quickly muted here as though the stone itself absorbs it.

[User]
 "Oh my, would look at that! Fun!"

Hoss points a finger at the construct as it, and it alone, will be his entertainment for the minute. From that raised finger a beam of vile like lances out, aimed dead center on the usually large construct.

 Spoiler
Vitriolic Eldritch Blast (Ignores spell resitance. Does 2d6 damage per round for 4 additional rounds after initial damage)
 (1d20+23)[ 24 ]
 (9d6+2)[ 31 ]

[User]
 Hoss's eldritch blast misses the Anaxim by inches.

The metal monstrosity lumbers towards you and you feel it attacking your magical defenses. It then emits a blast of bone-crushing sonic energy that tears the limbs off of the two devils still running from it.

 Spoiler

Swift action: Quickened Greater Dispel, centered on spot in middle of the group  (1d20+22)[ 39 ]
Move action: Move 60 ft. towards party. Now 40 ft. away
Standard action: Sonic Blast (Ex)  (20d6)[ 75 ] . DC 34 Reflex save for 1/2 damage. Affects everyone.

[User]
 The blob of jelly screams in rage at the sonic energy causes unwelcome jiggling. Hurling itself towards the creature, it lifts off the ground and flies through the air to splatter into the creature, all pseudo-pods flailing in rage and pain.

 Spoiler: Defenses!
I failed my save, and I see that attack is Ex. Well, darn, I take that damage -15.

HP: 135 after fast healing

 Spoiler: Pounce!

All attacks ignore DR as if hitting with Epic, Cold Iron, and Chaotic +5 weaponry.

 Spoiler: Girralon Claws!
 (d20+30)[ 49 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (2d6+13)[ 18 ]  Damage
 (2d6)[ 9 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 3 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 2 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 1 ]  electric damage

 (d20+30)[ 49 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (2d6+13)[ 23 ]  Damage
 (2d6)[ 10 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 1 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 3 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 6 ]  electric damage

 (d20+30)[ 38 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (2d6+13)[ 22 ]  Damage
 (2d6)[ 6 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 5 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 1 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 2 ]  electric damage

 (d20+30)[ 45 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (2d6+13)[ 18 ]  Damage
 (2d6)[ 6 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 5 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 4 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 4 ]  electric damage

 Spoiler: Dragon Claws

 (d20+30)[ 32 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (3d6+13)[ 20 ]  Damage
 (2d6)[ 8 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 5 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 3 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 1 ]  electric damage

 (d20+30)[ 43 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (3d6+13)[ 26 ]  Damage
 (2d6)[ 10 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 1 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 3 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 2 ]  electric damage

 Spoiler: Kruthik Claws
 (d20+30)[ 37 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (3d6+13)[ 22 ]  Damage
 (8d6)[ 25 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 5 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 3 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 5 ]  electric damage

 (d20+30)[ 50 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (3d6+13)[ 19 ]  Damage
 (8d6)[ 30 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 2 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 1 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 6 ]  electric damage

 Spoiler: Dragon Tail
 (d20+30)[ 40 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (4d6+18)[ 36 ]  Damage
 (2d6)[ 4 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 2 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 4 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 3 ]  electric damage

 Spoiler: Slam
 (d20+30)[ 40 ]  to hit

 Spoiler
 (3d6+13)[ 22 ]  Damage
 (2d6)[ 9 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 2 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 3 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 1 ]  electric damage

If hits, a grapple check to start a grapple,  (d20+48)[ 62 ]
if that hits

 Spoiler
Constrict Damage!

 Spoiler
 (3d6+13)[ 21 ]  Damage
 (2d6)[ 7 ]  acid damage
 (1d6)[ 5 ]  fire damage
 (1d6)[ 3 ]  cold damage
 (1d6)[ 2 ]  electric damage

[User]
 The flying spaghetti monster hits with three girallon claws, one dragon claw, and one kruthik claw. All other attacks are blocked by the Anaxim's thick metal plating. Even the attacks that do strike true have difficulty bypassing its armor. The cold and fire seem to have no effect whatsoever, but the acid and electricity cause some damage.

Total damage: 113

[User]
 "Do we fight that thing?"  Nishik says even as she grows and twists, her green skin sprouting scales as she begins changing into a huge green dragon. She claters along the hallway towards the devils before assuming a martial art stance that looks utterly comical when performed by the oversized dragon.

 Move Action:  Wildshape into adult green dragon
 Standard Action:  Move: Get adjacent to the closest devil.
 Free Action:  Activate Karmic Strike

[User]
 <It has injured us, we will  destroy  it! The fiend is resilient! Rip, tear, shred it to pieces! Leave the devils, they are small and delicious, but without limbs, they pose no real threat...>

Again the voices reverberates as the slime jiggles, causing sounds in both your ears and minds. The voice is pained, and furious.

[User]
 "Don't run from the fun! Come play!"

Hoss draws a small circle in the air with his recently raised finger and pokes at the center of it. From this gesture a blast of eldritch energy pours forth, frothing and eating at all in its path.

 Spoiler
Vitriolic blast on an Eldritch Cone. This deals  (9d6+2)[ 32 ]  Acid Damage. Spell resistance does not apply and it is a level 6 spell effect for purposes of immunity, etc. Reflex save DC 29 halves.

[User]
 The Anaxim is struck by the cone of acid, but even now you can see it beginning to repair the damage to its body. It lashes out at the ooze with whirling sawblades, metal fists, and an electric touch attack.

 Spoiler

Reflex save  (1d20+22)[ 27 ]
Saw blades attack  (1d20+41)[ 50 ]  (1d20+41)[ 54 ]
Saw blades damage  (3d6+26)[ 40 ]  (3d6+26)[ 36 ]
Fists attack  (1d20+35)[ 46 ]  (1d20+35)[ 41 ]
Fists damage  (3d6+18)[ 26 ]  (3d6+18)[ 31 ]
Electric attack  (1d20+37)[ 46 ]  touch attack
Electric damage [roll]10d6[/roll]

[User] Ugh. Here's electric damage  (10d6)[ 33 ]

[User] The giant slimy ball of ooze splutters and explodes, revealing a thin, entirely white humanoid corpse. Anyone with any ranks in knowledge local should recognize him as a changeling. And he is very dead.


[User] The three of you have gathered at the local coffee shop at the request of a mutual friend.  While not really anything out of the ordinary, he has a knack for getting you three to cooperate even during your more "intense" disagreements.  You've all been waiting around for about 15 minutes when he walks in.  The young man, early-to-mid 20's, clean shaven, brown hair, brown eyes, caucasian, dressed in all purple (you find it quite astonishing that they managed to find purple-denim jeans), save for the white trim on his t-shirt and the white soles of his sneakers.  Sitting down at your table, he puts the purple book bag he was carrying on the table and opens it so you all can see.  " O.K., I've got a problem.  Any of you recognize this book? "  The tome in question is a dusty old grimoire-looking thing with seven gems embedded into each cover: a ring of the six colors of light (red, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and magenta) with white in the center on the front, and a ring of the six colors of pigment (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple) with black in the center on the back cover.

[User] I'm not quite sure what this is, I'm not a geologist. It could have to do something with magic conjugation but I'm not a magic user so I don't know. You should probaprobably ask Johny Dunkan about it.

[User]
 but off topic here, it's nice to see you again old friend. It's been quite a long time since we did a hunt together. When this business of yours is concluded we could go hunt some reapers.
So Dunkan, what do you have to say about these gems of his?

[User] Yo, this actually looks a lot like this thing I learned in magic school. Each color represents a different form of magic. The group on the front is spiritual magics and the ones on the back are physical magics. First time seeing this in gems, though. And I don't think I've seen the white or black types before now.

[User] At least, if it actually is that color chart. Could be something else.

[User] Maybe it could represent darkness and light?

[User] Maybe. Would make sense.

[User] Luchas is being suspiciously quiet for a blabber mouth. What is he up to?

[User]
 Luchas? Hey, Luchas?

Crap, I think he's unconscious.

[User] I think hes dead...

[User] Should I call 911?

[User] Nah just leave him be. Somebody will eventually come to clean him up. But i will take his pistol though. (Takes pistol)

[User]
 Okay. Cool. We have a gun.

What now?

[User] Now i use it on you! Lol jk. But seriously we should probably find a gemologist.


[User]
 A storm raged over the city of Pugmire, leaving most sensible Dogs indoors.  As the lightning flashes and thunder rumbles far overhead, a single old Mutt runs through the rain.  His paws splash through the puddles, as he draws his heavy dark green cloak closer to his body.  His ears are flattened against his head, and he lets out a small whine.  He'd never done well with storms, after all.  Still, his mission was far too important to let his fears get to him.  Was he not, after all, a Good Dog?

The stranger finds his way to to the Dirty Bowl, a tavern in the northern part of town that's known as a haven for adventurers and Free Dogs.  He opens the door, cautiously poking his head inside, despite the raucous noise within.  But, glad to be out of the rain, he steps inside, and shakes the water from his coat.  The old Mutt draws back his hood, revealing himself to the tavern.  He has black fur, with plentiful gray around his muzzle.  It's clear he's got some Terrier blood, but of what kind, it's impossible to say.

He glances over the crowd, scanning until a look of recognition comes over his face.  He carefully walks over to your table, and bows his head politely.

 "Greetings, noble warriors.  Thank Man I've found you at last!  You are Sir Percival Pug and his companions, yes?  My name is Indy Mutt, and I've traveled a long way to meet you."

He reaches a paw inside his cloak, and pulls out a scroll, bearing the seal of the Basset-Hounds.

 "My Lady, the Duchess Basset-Hound, has tasked me to deliver this message to you."

Indy holds out the scroll in one shaking, ancient paw.

[User]
 Percival smiles at the other dog, he braved quite the storm to deliver this message. Truly this messenger was one of the Good Dogs.  "You must be tired from your travels, here take my seat while I read the message. Help yourself to my water bowl too, it just got filled."

As the messenger gives him the message, Percival Pug reads it both to himself and out loud (but not too loud, that would be rude) to his companions.

[User] Waffles leans in with interest.  Not actually a warrior but a scholar, his curiosity was piqued.

[User]
 Indy gratefully accepts Percival's offer, and laps quietly at the bowl of water.

The message, which the Pug knight reads aloud, says:

  "My dear Sir Percival,

I regret to inform you that I am in dire need of assistance.  The Dogs who live in my lands are stricken with fear.  They don't go outside at night, they're afraid to leave their homes.  The final rest of my citizens has been disturbed by a series of robbed graves.  My people are convinced that the Church is haunted, and seem to be losing their faith in Man.

I have attempted to have my town guards solve this problem, but those who return from watching the graveyard say they saw nothing.  The others are, I'm sad to say, presumed dead.  I need the help of heroes, Sir Percival, so I must ask that you and your companions come to Baskerville posthaste.  You will, of course, be rewarded handsomely for your efforts.

Yours,
Duchess Roxanne Basset-Hound."

[User] Griffin listens in silence as Percival reads the letter, staring down at her folded paws. Once he's finished, she looks up at him and says,  "Innocent dogs are being terrorized? Well... I don't know about the rest of you, but that is something I cannot abide."   She glances at the others before looking back down at her paws.  "And I suppose it'll be worth our while."

[User]
 Sipping from a small cup of milk, Cur glares at the courier.
 "How do we know the messages provenance is genuine?  It could be a trap.  Or at the least a misdirection."
He sets the cup down surprisingly gently for such a massive dog.

[User]
 Waffles is unable to determine if the seal truly is genuine.  For all he knows, it could be, but it could also be fake.  There's no way of telling.

Meanwhile, Percival is entirely, 100 percent sure, that this message was written by the Duchess.  Her script is very distinct, and he recognizes it instantly.

The courier glances up from his drink at Cur, frowning thoughtfully.  His shoulders slump, and he seems to visibly deflate.

 "I'm sure you mean no disrespect, young pup, but you seem to be insinuating that I'm a Bad Dog..."

[User] "It was not unintended. I have no reason to trust you. And your missive leads us into danger."

[User]
 Griffin glances at Cur, her look disapproving.  "Be that as it may,"  she says quietly,  "you could stand to be a bit more tactful..."  She turns her attention to Indy, smiling apologetically.  "Sorry about him. As I said, I feel that I cannot sit by idly as dogs are in danger... though, my friend here does have a point. It would be unwise to race recklessly towards danger without being certain that the message you bear is genuine."

Griffin studies the message briefly, before looking between Percival and Waffles.  "What are your thoughts?"  she asks, looking back at the message.

[User] Percival yawns in a puggish way,  "No, this message is definitely from the Duchess. I say we leave as soon as we can and ride to her aid, Good Dogs are in trouble!"

[User]
 Waffles strokes his facial fluff.  His voice has a bit of a squeak to it.   "Whether or not it is ,it should be investigated....  After all good dogs don't ignore messages."

He nods sagely before adjusting his glasses upon his snout.


[User]
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[User] Gracias me agrada mucho poder estar aqui viva el anime

[User]
 hello again :)

🙂


[User]
 Today, Lorduk the Terrible wakes up in his fortress of solitude, and for some reason only he can say, he feels like dealing with the problems of his makeshift kingdom that he doesn't really manage that well. So he calls in his adviser minions, and they inform him that no one has reported in from the Western forest region in over a day. He probably feels like investigating this matter.

Normally, when he investigates things, only one thing turns out to be the problem, but today it feels like any number of things could go wrong, well, not any number, 9 specific things. But still.

 (1d9)[ 8 ]

 Spoiler: Lorduk the Terrible
Lorduk the Terrible
Race: Orc
Alignment: CE
Size: Large (See Below in "Gear)
Stats:
    Str
 40
 Int
 8
 Fort
 +23
 AC
 35
 HP
 19d10+90 (194)

  Dex
 10
 Wis
 10
 Ref
 +14
 TAC
 14
 Init
 +5

  Con
 18
 Cha
 6
 Will
 +13
 FFAC
 34
 BAB/Grpl
 +20/+43

 Spoiler: Feats
    1
 Improved Initiative

  F1
 Power Attack

  F2
 Improved Overrun

  3
 Quick Draw

  F4
 Cleave

  6
 Iron Will

  F6
 Great Cleave

  F8
 Improved Unarmed Strike

  9
 Combat Reflexes

  F10
 Improved Grapple

  12
 Lightning Reflexes

  F12
 Weapon Focus (Greatsword)

  F14
 Weapon Specialization (Greatsword)

  15
 Great Fortitude

  F16
 Greater Weapon Focus (Greatsword)

  18
 Greater Weapon Specialization (Greatsword)

  F18
 Improved Critical (Greatsword)

  F20
 Blind-Fight

 Spoiler: Equipment
Amulet of Natural Armor +5
Belt of Giant's Strength +6
Cloak of Resistance +5
Mirror of Opposition
Handy Haversack
Mithral Full Plate of Speed
Efficient Quiver
5 Javelins of Lightning
4 Potion of Resis Energy (+30) (1 each, Acid, Fire, Shock, Cold)
Manual of Gainful Exercise (+5)
Ring of Evasion
Ring of Protection +5
Permanent Enlarge Person (For large size forever)
Manual of Bodily Health +4
Greatsword +5
Composite Longbow +1 (Str +14)
60 Arrows
+3 Animated Tower Shield
4 Potions of Remove Fear
Helm of Teleportation
Winged Boots
Lantern of Revealing

 Spoiler: Attacks
+5 Greatsword, +39 (3d6+31) 18-20/x2
+1 Composite Longbow (Str +14), +19 (2d6+14) x3
Javelin of Lightning, +18 (5d6 Electric)

 Spoiler: Armor
Mithral Full Plate of Speed, +9/3/-3/20ft
+3 Animated Mithral Tower Shield, +7/5/-7/--
Amulet of Natural Armor +5
Ring of Protection +5


[User]
 It is in the midst of a rather ordinary day when you notice that the smooth, ageless face of Yanvic Baer has appeared on your Aspect Mirror. He begins speaking without delay, in the clipped tone he reserves for orders.  "Selena, I have recently received an invitation from the necromancers of Skull City to attend a demonstration of some great magical breakthrough, though their correspondence was sparse on details. You are possessed of notable initiative and intelligence, and I am allowed a guest with me – as bodyguard, presumably, though I do not imagine it will be necessary. I would like you to accompany me to this event, hopefully to gain connections among the other players on this stage – I am sure there will be many interesting individuals to meet. Come to the third safehouse in the capital by the twelfth of this month, and I shall bring us to the city."

He does not wait for a response, but immediately cuts the connection, leaving you to the rest of your day.

[User]
 The disconnect was.. well, that was Yanvic for you.  Selena sighed with a faint smile.

 "A message?"  Selena turned her head towards the source of the question, an unusually hatted and perhaps less unusually (in the Protectorate) undead cat.  The tibbit had been silently reading a tome on her couch, having relocated from the ship's library to avoid what he could only imagine was a youthful attempt to study necromancy.  The noise would certainly have woken  him  from the grave.

 "Skull City is demonstrating a magical breakthrough, Yanvic needs a bodyguard."

The archivist raised an eyebrow at the mention of Skull City.  The motion couldn't be seen beneath his 'goggles', of course, but Selena knew him well enough to tell.  "Skull City? Interesting. Do we know who else they invited? Any major players? Larger than us, I mean, such as one of the-"
 "-people they surely wouldn't try anything with?"  completed Selena with a smirk.  She shook her head.  "I don't know, Yanvic cut the message right after explaining the situation. He said he felt protection would be unnecessary, however.  We should stick with what they asked for."
 "Very well.  I'll stay with the ship's mirror, leave an evacuation rune in your stomach.  When is the meeting?"
 "Twelfth of this month, he'll meet me in the third safehouse of the capital and set off from there.  He didn't say how long the meeting will be."
 " Several evacuation rune disks then.. "

Selena finally took a seat herself, leaning back as she pondered how to best conduct the remaining time before the meet.  Should she have the ship stay near the capital? Hrm, probably.  They hadn't seen anything of interest while flying along the coast for nearly two weeks now.  The crew, at least those that ever left the airship, would surely appreciate it. Perhaps they could transport some cargo while they were at it... she made a mental note to have Cervika look into that.  For now, however, there was a far more exciting matter at hand!

The evoker hopped from the couch with a small push and started heading to the ship's library, pausing for a second to let Yareo decide if he wanted to brave certain annoyance.  He apparently did, so the two headed off to consult some maps of the region.  It'd be a good idea to re-familiarize themselves with Skull City.  What little was known about it, at least.

[User] Your maps and charts prove to be only marginally useful. The Skull City lies in the Dead Swamp, within the province of Jin, realm of Duke Crimson. The City lies roughly at the heart of the swamp, and relies on magic to supply its needs, rarely interacting with the mundane world for any purpose. The necromancers govern themselves, generally following a secretive group known as the Circle of Bone. Skull City is ultimately a place of learning, albeit one focused on the darker aspects of magic, most especially those dealing with death. Skull City is informally recognized as a power equal to any of the factions vying for place in the Protectorate, for all that it technically is ruled by Duke Crimson. Those who have traveled there have universally noted that the city itself and the area immediately outside it is cloaked in powerful magics, but they only seem to respond to those with status among the necromancers.


[User]
 You were just browsing the shops
You lost track of time
Now you are locked in a mall after hours
The lights are out and your phone is dead

Not a problem, you think
Just find a security guard to let you out
You make your way to the security office
But the door is smashed in and there are trails of blood on the ground!
 My god, there's blood everywhere!

You hear a drag and a thump
you see a mangled uniformed body dragged around a corner, quickly
And out of the corner of your eye you see him...
Covered in blood with a severed human arm in his mouth...
 Shia LeBeouf!

[User]
 Lisa is a mid-twenties woman, with long blonde hair on half her head and the other half shaved. She's covered in tattoos of colourful birds and fishes. Her drug problem is obvious from her shrunken veins and tired eyes, she's dangerously thin, but apparently used to be kind of toned. She gapes at the scene before her, before glancing back at the others, a silent expression of "Do you guys  see this  ****? Was that the famous Hollywood actor Shia LaBeouf, of  Transformers  and  Eagle Eye  acclaim?" writ large over her face. It's a very expressive face.

She stands stock still for a moment, paralysed with indecision. She inspects the contents of the security office, looking for a phone, a walkie-talkie, anything that might useful to escape or summon help.

[User]
 The office is rather spartan, a small waiting area for parents of lost children with a coffee table sits across from a desk with a PC and a battered grey filing cabinet. The screen in lined and flickering.

The body across the coffee table seems out of place though. A young man, mid twenties is spread eagled across the table, his face pale and eyes wide and unseeing. It looks as if something has been chewing on his neck. His guard radio is crammed in his mouth, forcing his jaw open at unnatural angles

[User] Shocked by all the gore Arnold is speechless. He had seen gory movies but this was different for him. This was real. Shia LaBeouf was a murderer and Arnold was stuck in this mall with him! He slowly backs away from the scene and waits for the others.

[User] Andrew's eye twitched at the scene infront of him. In the corner of his eye he saw... the rumours were true. Shia LeBeouf was a killer. Andrew pulls up his hood and starts to back away from the security office almost in synchronous with Arnold. Sure he was trapped but... he was trapped in a mall with a crazed Shia LeBeouf. Silence. Silence was the only course. If he left him to his meal he'd leave him alone.

[User]
 A dark mist comes around the corner just before a small man appears. He hovers a few inches over the ground, his lower legs surrounded by some sort of purple mist. He grasps his Oscar tight.

 His Oscar? Could it be??

The man's outfit is obviously Prince-style, but was this an impersonator or the real deal ...

As he comes closer you are sure. It is actually Prince, or someone who had very successful plastic surgery done. He peeks inside to where the tragedy had found place.

  **** I'm done with these mall performances.

But there was no time for regrets. He has so much more gifts for the world. Would it really end with Shia LeBeouf eating his face????

[User] Lisa turns and starts creeping away, looking for the nearest cover, so she'll at least not be seen immediately if the cannibal actor finishes with his meal and comeslooking for more. She looks around frantically for a map, hopefully a leaflet but she'll settle for a glance at a mapstand.

[User]
 Jacob frowns as he sees the injured man in the midst of the security office. He shook his head, fully aware that he and the rest of these strangers were trapped here with Shia LeBeouf.

He moved through the office and towards the grey filing cabinet, which he pulled at and tried to open.

[User] Jacob moves past the dead man on the table to the heavy filing cabinet, looking for anything that might be of use... but the cabinet is locked. On the desk is a small plastic stand full of little advertisements and map guides for the mall.

[User] Lisa continues to move away from the area inhabited by the cannibalistic Hollywood leading man, looking to both build distance and get out of sight.


[User]
 Somewhere in Rikorsial, 546 C.E.

With the process of proposal, debate, and vote suspended, the present government of the Sharixian Republic is lean. More importantly, it is mobile. Currently, it hides in a small system of caves discovered during the search for more extensive systems — preparation for a Kazul attack that feels insignificant to the Sharix now.

The room set aside for the meeting is sparse, and the furniture, if you could call it that, is made of stone. The table is square, and holds six seats on each side. Sitting with a pair of advisors to either side, the acting Prime Minister occupies half of one side. She is old, her face worn by time and the times. Unlike the Sharixian Prime Ministers of the past, her furs are undyed, the colours clashing. Her eyes are a brilliant blue, and within them burns the characteristic strength of will of her people.

 "I must thank you all for coming,"  she began.  "We are a people that seems to soon be extinguished, and so it is a pleasant surprise that there are those that would come here willing to help us."
 "As I'm sure you're already aware, the Tzaltec Empire has responded to our declaration by invading us. I have no intention of allowing this invasion to last, and I request your aid in our counter-attack. We would ask for as much support as you are capable of providing, and to those not already sworn to do so we offer whatever you might wish to ask of us. Within reason, of course. We will not accept aid under the condition of subservience, for example."


[User]
 Every now and then there's a blip in the multiverse, a cosmic void of darkness that if left alone for too long spreads and starts gobbling up connecting realities. As a measure of stopping that from spreading entities with a certain amount of power are tasked with filling that void with a new reality. The problem, however, is entities with that level of power are already tired of the god game and find the task something akin to jury duty.

The entity Jump-chan was no different then her peers in this regard, though she was even less inclined to stick around for it all, not after she had just found a new means of entertaining herself. Thus standing there in the center of the dark void, with a huff and a wave an immense sphere of water, though tiny in relation to her, appeared suspended in total darkness. It was a crude thing, without life or reason, and though it was her task to give it and this void in space those things she simply had better things to do. So with a casual yank, she pulled a few strands of 'hair' from her head and let them float down to the sphere where they began taking life and form of there own.

  "Right, my shows are on. You guys got this covered right?"   Then without waiting for an answer the entity slipped out of the void, even old entities learned new tricks. Shadow clones were pretty cool when used right.

 Spoiler: Note
The doors are now open.

OOC link is:  here.

Have at em!

[User]
 One hair found itself in an odd conundrum as it changed into a new form. It was one being before, and a different being after. But in the count between the tick and the tock, what was it? This question overtook the newly born god, unveiling a similarly odd creature. Blue, lanky and long. This creature felt itself drawn to the beautiful blue ball, and dive face-first into the water. He felt the cool liquid swish around him, enjoying the immersion...but he felt odd. There was only water, and not water. Sky. He had to have something between...So he reached out and sighed, his breath becoming bubbles..and the bubbles turning to solid rock. This rock grew larger, each bubble becoming a solid piece of a greater whole. The solid round rocks shattered and coalesced, becoming a series of jagged peaks with green valleys. They floated atop the water, a border between Sky and Ocean.

(-2 AP for create Land)

Coming ashore, he felt another slight disappointment. This was something entirely new, but he couldn't even get a better view of the mountains..as such, he decided that something to survey the turbulent lands would be beneficial. To this end, he took a nail to the sky and tore out a small patch of it, creating a brilliant blue coat out of it. The winds caught on this coat, and soon he felt himself lifted into the air. A smile on the fledgling deity's face as he looked upon the mountains of the Border Peaks, and felt a small surge of pride...followed by unrest. There was somewhere to be, after all.

(-4 AP to create the Artifact: The Coat of Zephyrs, grants the ability of unaided flight, by catching the winds as if they were a water's waves)

[User]
 As he idly drifted towards the seas below Wrok was content. This world was tranquil and fresh. More importantly for the newborn deity it was cool and quiet. He made no effort to slow the fall as the sea grew ever closer. He barely disturbed the surface as he dove in, avoiding making so much as a splash of sound.

Wrok was delighted to discover that underwater it was even colder and quieter than above. Though his body appeared to be suited for travel through the skies, the raven-like god found it easy to effortlessly glide through the currents of the ocean. As he traveled deeper and deeper the feelings of belonging only intensified. He could remain down here forever, and never want for anything. Wrok instinctively knew he had the gift to shape this world in any way he might desire, but as far as he could tell nothing needed changing.

Such pleasant thoughts were interrupted however. A disturbance from above captured Wrok's attention. Though curious about the cause of the commotion he ascended cautiously. He wondered if he had been too quick to judge the world as peaceful. Parting from the water as silently as he arrived, Wrok could merely watch as events unfolded. The sea appeared to froth and crust over. The show wasn't entirely unpleasant. Certainly this land would be a inconvenient barrier to access the sea, but surely the new ground wouldn't continue growing forever.

Though there was no source in sight for the phenomenon it could only be the work of another god.  Does this act have purpose?  Wrok wondered as he observed the valleys start to form.  If so, should I feel threatened?  He contemplated what sort of other gods he might be sharing the world with before deciding it must be the work of a bubble goddess. O r perhaps a goddess of mountains,  he added as an afterthought.

The newly formed earth was cracking and splintering deafeningly. Shards of stone burst from the rising peaks as they begin finally settle. Wrok grimaced as he wondered what kind of crass deity would tolerate such vulgar noise, let alone be the cause of it. He resolved to make this right. Making land was well and good; Wrok could appreciate a beautiful creation when he saw it. But even noble ends couldn't justify this cacophony. If one was to build, they should have the decency to make every stage of the project unsullied by noise.

Wrok fluttered his wings, tossing off droplets of water that still clung to his feathers. This icy rain fell upon the forming mountains it layered the peaks in ice before coating them in frosty snow. With the irritating sound muffled, Wrok found he still had some energy to spare. Energized by helping reshape a few of the peaks he set his sights on the empty space to the north. Snow began to creep down the mountainside and blanketed the sea, secretly forming land beneath it but keeping the changes inaudible. Under the white blanket the territory was left patchwork, flatlands coated in a network of wetlands, streams, lakes, and rivers. Still seeing it as barren, Wrok encouraged thick taiga forests to spring up from beneath the snow in the region until he was spent.

(-1 AP for Alter Action, simply adding heavy snow/snowfall to some of the northern mountains created by Cruz)
(-2 AP for Create Land)

Perhaps he would take a short rest before admiring his handiwork.

[User]
 (First Turn)

One of the hairs seemed to hang above the blue orb for a moment instead of flying down like the others, slowly taking on a new form. The single hair split, grew, multiplied until it became a humanoid mass of gray fluff so thick you'd question if there was even a body inside. The only other detail, the one that makes you question what else is lurking in the hair, are the three, large, purple colored eyes that appear on what one would assume is the face of the being.

Now apparently fully formed, the being hovers above the planet, taking in the beautiful blue orb below it, watching the others splash into the waters. It's captivated immediately, and lets itself be pulled down into it. Picking up more and more speed, the being flies through the atmosphere and soon crashes into the once steady waves. Nilvig, as the being dubs itself, appeared to have landed in shallow waters, as it lies in a small crater with the surface just out of reach.

This view. . .it. . .he didn't care for it as much as the one before. Empty waters resting on pale sand in every direction but up in the blank space of a sky. There was nothing, and everything was still. That didn't feel right, but he knew he could fix that.

(-5 AP for Gain Ability "Herald of Life" - "Your god becomes life itself. This is not necessarily a good power. Instead it means your god is surrounded by life and mere presence nurtures it. Your god is a master at creating life. You thrive anywhere, and beings near you are filled with vigor. When you use the Create Life Action, you may subtract 1 AP from the cost. This means you can make basic Life for free.")

("Free" Create Life Basic/Bestial Life | Mundane Sea Creatures)

Like the being that created him, Nilvig pulled hairs from himself and tossed them up and out of the water. The hairs flew up into the air, multiplying into hundreds of thousands that flew off into every direction, each eventually diving back into the water and transforming. Creatures of all sorts of familiar shapes and sizes spread out into the oceans around him. More and more Nilvig made, his captivation with the creation of these creatures filling him with as much joy as when he first set eyes on this beautiful blue orb.

Nilvig was happy, though not yet content. He was already familiar with these creatures, knew what to expect from them. These fish swimming around him, their movement was pleasant, but he wanted more. That was when he felt it, surging waves coming from somewhere to the East. Swimming to the surface he watched as giant round stones surfaced in the distance before crashing into each other, slowly forming into a land mass adorned by mountains and valleys.

Inspiration slowly started filtering into his mind as he floated towards the new land. He could cover that with life too. Then something odd happened. The peaks of the mountains were rapidly covered with ice and snow. As he walked up onto the beach, he watched as the snow glided down the mountains and blanketed the seas to the North, forming even more new land. The new lands were certainly more interesting, host to a variety of environments . . . but all of them cold, and just as void of life.

The land he stood on and the newer lands to the North were all too motionless for his tastes. If the others were going to make lands of their own to suit their tastes, why not him?

(-2 AP for Create Land | Tropical Islands)
("Free" Create Life: Basic/Bestial Life | Mundane Tropical Animals)

Nilvig swam south of the other continents in search of warmth. When he had finally found temperate enough waters, he pulled on his divine power to bring a place of his own into existence. A chain of islands spreads far out to the east and west. Lush jungles sprout up in seconds as all manner of birds, insects and reptiles seem to pop out of the woodwork. These islands were warmer than the others, more hospitable for life, accepting of movement.

He liked this place, but still he felt discontent. Sitting on one of the beaches of his creation, crabs, birds and lizards gathered around him. He turned his gaze up to the empty sky, contemplating what to do next.


[User]
 Hoard of the Dragon Queen

For the past several days, you have been traveling a road that winds lazily across the rolling grasslands of the Greenfields. Sundown is approaching when you top a rise and see the town of Greenest just a few short miles away. But instead of the pleasant, welcoming town you expected, you see columns of black smoke rising from burning buildings, running figures that are little more than dots at this distance, and a dark, winged shape wheeling low over the keep that rises above the center of the town. The winged shape gives a loud roar and sudden fear fills your hearts.  Greenest is under assault by a dragon!

By the time you take to travel to the town, the sky has turned a dull orange from the setting sun and a dark blue is beginning to spread across the sky.  You are now close enough to smell the smoke from the burning houses, which provides some illumination against the backdrop of the dusk sky.

[User] Belgar searches for survivors in the rubble.  Hello? Anyone alive in here?

[User]
 It has been over a week’s time since the last town the tiefling visited. The journey was really starting to get the best of her, she found herself resting more and more often with each day. Even the greenery played tricks on her mind, it has been nothing, but green, brown and blue for days and days. It was just her reddish skin and dark clothing which were telling her that she in fact hadn’t lost  the ability to see any other colors.

After what felt like an eternity, the warlock came close to reaching her next destination, Greenest. There she could gather up more information on the wretched beast, which has been plaguing her mind for so long now.

Dalies had heard so many things about the sizable town, but everything was shattered the moment it came into her view. Frozen in her place she could only stare with a petrified gaze at the image before her. It was still so far away “ By the gods ” by the time she could be able to get there, it would be long over. Fear was soon replaced with rage as she stumbled down the path once again.

Too late, she was too late, but what could she really do?  Slay the beast? Currently she barely held her own in battle against her own kin, but this is why she was here. Pushing the smell of the smoke aside, she pushed on further, she needed to know more. She needed to find someone, with this thought in mind, Dalies entered the town.

[User]
 Originally Posted by Xenopax
  Hello? Anyone alive in here?

The question from the dragonborn receives no reply, only deathly silence.  However, it does draw the attention of four nearby dragon-like creatures that curiously look over to where the party has gathered.

 Spoiler: OOC
Roll initiative!   Here  is the battle map.

[User] I tell them in draconic “hello dragon brothers. May I ask where the villagers/prey are?” I unhitch my reinforced lute at the same time

[User]
 OOC: Forgot to roll initiative
 (1d20)[ 5 ]

[User]
 Originally Posted by Xenopax
 “hello dragon brothers. May I ask where the villagers/prey are?”

The four look at each other, mumbling to themselves.  One steps forward, then asks  Who are you and how do you speak our tongue?

 Spoiler: initiatives
K1:  (1d20+2)[ 21 ]
K2:  (1d20+2)[ 16 ]
K3:  (1d20+2)[ 17 ]
K4:  (1d20+2)[ 7 ]

[User] I am a Dragonborn, brother. A son of Io just like yourself. My name is Belgar Tyron. May I have the pleasure of your names and race?

[User]
 Originally Posted by Xenopax
  I am a Dragonborn, brother. A son of Io just like yourself. My name is Belgar Tyron. May I have the pleasure of your names and race?

 We are lowly Kobolds, in service to the great Lennithon above.  We have no names, only the servitude of our lives that we owe to the gracious Lennithon.

[User] Brother Kobold if I may ask where are the softskins who lived here?

[User]
 Originally Posted by Xenopax
  Brother Kobold if I may ask where are the softskins who lived here?

The kobold laughs, his grin malicious in nature as he answers  We killed them soft skins.  Killed all soft skins.

[User] Belgar face drops. What have you done brother? A mighty softskin lives here and is coming for vengeance. Run brother before they catch you. I will try to dissuade them from slaughtering you and making your skin into armor.

[User]
 Bravante approached the site quickly and as the conversaton began, he moved in a half circle around the building towards H4.

 Spoiler: Initiative
  (1d20+7)[ 14 ]

[User]
 Originally Posted by Xenopax
 Belgar face drops. What have you done brother? A mighty softskin lives here and is coming for vengeance. Run brother before they catch you. I will try to dissuade them from slaughtering you and making your skin into armor.

The kobold laughs, then replies,  We have no fear of soft skins.  We will slaughter them as we killed those soft skins living here.

The group splits, two of the kobolds moving towards Bravante while another one moves towards both Belgar and Dalies.  Reaching to their belts, they pull leather slings and begin to pelt stones.

 Spoiler: ooc
K1: Attack Bravante:  (1d20+4)[ 21 ]
Damage:  (1d4+2)[ 5 ]

K3: Attack Belgar:  (1d20+4)[ 10 ]
Damage:  (1d4+2)[ 3 ]

K2: Attack Bravante:  (1d20+4)[ 9 ]
Damage:  (1d4+2)[ 4 ]

[User]
 I did not wish to harm you brother but you have forced my hand. May you go to Bahumat.

 Spoiler: If the 2 kobolds that went for bravante are in range for my Fire Breath
 Belgar's Throat swells as he Unleashes a blast of Dragon Fire.
 (1d20)[ 19 ]  For hit
 (1d20)[ 7 ]  For hit

 (2d6)[ 9 ]  For Damage
 (2d6)[ 5 ]  For Damage
 Try to Knock them out! They are Just slaves to a greater Beast!

 Spoiler: If they aren't
  Dalies support Bravante. I will give this one the honour of being killed by a fellow Dragon.   Belgar Uses both of his hands to smack The kobold with his Reinforced Lute.
 (1d20+5)[ 25 ]  For hit
 (1d4)[ 1 ]  For dmg
 Try to Knock them out! They are Just slaves to a greater Beast!

[User]
 Diplomacy seldom works... that's something Bravante learnt in his travels, and as one stone hit him solidly in the head and the other bounced on his chainshirt he just got further comfirmation. Srpinging quickly he moved toward his attackers and swinged his sword at the nearest one with all his might.

 Spoiler: Action
Moving to H9  and attacking the creature in G8 Acrobatics check?  (1d20+6)[ 11 ] , attack  (1d20+5)[ 14 ] , damage  (1d8+3)[ 4 ]

[User]
 Spoiler
 someone explain what all these numbers/letters mean

[User]
 Spoiler: OoC answer
DM linked a battle map in google spreadsheets, the numbers nd letters are coordinates in that grid

[User]
 Originally Posted by Auranghzeb

 Spoiler: OoC answer
DM linked a battle map in google spreadsheets, the numbers nd letters are coordinates in that grid

 Spoiler
Thanks i didn't notice that.
Also How many feet are each square? Need to calculate my Dragon Breath

[User]
 Originally Posted by Auranghzeb
 Diplomacy seldom works... that's something Bravante learnt in his travels, and as one stone hit him solidly in the head and the other bounced on his chainshirt he just got further comfirmation. Srpinging quickly he moved toward his attackers and swinged his sword at the nearest one with all his might.

Bravante swings at the nearest kobold, slicing the creature's arm off.  It hisses in Draconic back at him  Nasty Softskin!

 Originally Posted by Xenopax
  I did not wish to harm you brother but you have forced my hand. May you go to Bahumat.

Belgar swings at the kobold, and a loud clanging sound penetrates the air as his lute collides with the kobold's head.  It hisses at him, while another kobold joins the attack, lunging in with a cruel-looking dagger.

 Spoiler
K4 attack  (1d20+4)[ 19 ]
adv:  (1d20+4)[ 9 ]
dmg:  (1d4+2)[ 4 ]

The kobold nearest Bravante drops the sling and swings at him with a dagger, while its friend does the same.

 Spoiler
K1:  (1d20+4)[ 7 ]
adv:  (1d20+4)[ 11 ]
dmg:  (1d4+2)[ 4 ]

K2:  (1d20+4)[ 21 ]
adv:  (1d20+4)[ 19 ]
dmg:  (1d4+2)[ 3 ]

[User]
 Belgar fills his throat with Holy Dragon fire. He then Unleashes a burst of it upon the two Kobolds. He tries to aim the blast so it doesn't hit Dalies.

 Spoiler: Rolls

I don't remember if I have to roll for hit with dragon fire but here:
to hit K3  (1d20)[ 1 ]
To hit K4  (1d20)[ 3 ]

K3 DMG  (2d6)[ 7 ]
K4 DMG  (2d6)[ 5 ]

[User]
 Bravante feels the sting of the Kobold's dagger... and retaliates hard.

 Spoiler: Action

So i'll use my sword on the kobold that hit me

 (1d20+5)[ 11 ]  sword  (1d8+3)[ 9 ]

[User]
 Originally Posted by Auranghzeb
 Bravante feels the sting of the Kobold's dagger... and retaliates hard.

The kobold ducks under the swing, missing its head by barely an inch.  Both kobolds advance, eager to take out their targets and lunge forward with daggers.

 Spoiler: Actions
K1:  (1d20+4)[ 15 ]
adv:  (1d20+4)[ 20 ]
dmg:  (1d4+2)[ 6 ]

K2:  (1d20+4)[ 20 ]
adv:  (1d20+4)[ 23 ]
dmg:  (1d4+2)[ 4 ]

 Originally Posted by Xenopax
 Belgar fills his throat with Holy Dragon fire. He then Unleashes a burst of it upon the two Kobolds. He tries to aim the blast so it doesn't hit Dalies.

Both kobolds duck out of the way of the flames, before lunging in with their daggers.

 Spoiler: rolls
K3: dex  (1d20+2)[ 22 ]
K4: dex  (1d20+2)[ 16 ]

K3:  (1d20+4)[ 17 ]
adv:  (1d20+4)[ 16 ]
dmg:  (1d4+2)[ 5 ]

K4:  (1d20+4)[ 19 ]
adv:  (1d20+4)[ 19 ]
dmg:  (1d4+2)[ 4 ]

[User]
 Belgar tells the kobold  "You are a sniveling worthless eyeball licking lizard who is not worthy of being called kin to dragons".

 Spoiler: Action
I cast vicious mockery. 1d4+5 dmg if they fail a will save of 13


[User]
 Headquarters  - Meeting Room - All

Dr. Langtree sat at the head of the table, a plate of food and several datapads resting before him. "Well gang, it's been an, interesting road for us to get here, but here we are. I submitted the paperwork, and I've just received word that the ZBC has officially recognized us as a team! Isn't that just wonderful!? I've gotten all of the Zoids up and running, and I've recieved several challenges for us. All in all, a good start I must say."

[User] "Do we have to respond to all of the challenges?"  a minute voice inquires from Langtree's right. Despite having helped prepare the plates available in response to this occasion's meal, Morrigan felt no more desire than to briefly poke at her own serving, staring into her own lap, rather than to catch anyone else's gaze or accept the invitation of the datapad before her.

[User]
 Baast looks about and picks up his plate from the table. He unceremoniously drops into his chair and rests his boots on the table before setting his food to rest on his thighs.

 Relax kid. It isn't going to a Round Robbin event.  We get time to do repairs and rest between fights. Ain't like we are neck deep on the front lines here.  We're just play fighting a bunch of kids in their overpriced toys.

[User] " You don't have to say that like it's a bad thing, Baast. " says Darrin, pushing his glasses back into place. " I'm looking forward to it! "

[User] Baast shoots a look to Darrin.  I'm looking forward to the easy money. Well that, and showing these kids how to properly pilot a Zoid. Just have to remember I can't shoot the cockpit anymore.

[User]
 Headquarters  - Meeting Room - All

Dr. Langtree nearly chokes on his coffee. "Yes, no, please don't go shooting at the other team's cockpits. I know you trained thoroughly with the military, but in these friendly battles, killing the opposing team is certainly very frowned upon. We aren't going to be fighting everyone all at once, and there will certainly be down time in between, for repair and relaxation. We don't have to respond to everyone right away, though chances are good we will spar with everyone sooner or later."

[User] Abandoning her futile struggle against her lack of appetite, Morrigan rises from her place to instead fetch the coffee pot.  "Then, we start with the ones we can manage, should we? Or the more hard ones instead?"  she asks, sparing a look towards her more knowledgeable team members as she refills Langtree's mug.

[User] " I think we'd do best to start small. " says Darrin. " Obviously we know that we work well together, but this is the big leagues. "

[User] Anderz came walking in, late as usual.  ”So! Anything important happen while i was out?”  he says as he grabs a plate of food and flops into a chair. His boots come up and he crosses his legs beforehand plopping them on the table.

[User]
 Tanya walks into the meeting room late as usual, shortly after Anderz but in her normal piloting gear and rubbing her eyes.  "Sorry, haven't been sleeping well... I'll take some coffee too."  She's grab a mug to get a cup for herself when it was ready, listening to the discussion.

 "A fight's a fight, but it'll be interesting to see what our options are."

[User]
 Headquarters  - Meeting Room - All

Dr. Langtree hits a few commands on his terminal, and five images pop up on each datapad. "We have five teams that I think would make for good first challengers. We have a fight against Team Aesir, a mixed group, hit and run tactics. Team Rakshasa, Saber Fangs, and pretty good ones. Team Fuga, they specialize in flying Zoids. Team Ferox focus on strength, and overwhelming firepower. Finally, Team Occultatum, capitalize on stealth and subterfuge. Honestly, they are all good teams, honorable, and strong. A fight with any one of them will be difficult, but I believe in us."

[User]
 Baast looks at the displays and half nods to the explanation as he starts eating.  The saberfangs will robably be the easiest to deal with. Speed and light artillery compared to the other groups and their tactics.
Definitely don't want to fight team Fuga.

[User] Through a mouthful of food, Anderz calls ou,  ”I mean, *chomp* ultimately we can stomp anyone of them *smack* but hitting the Saberfangs hard right off the bat will send the right message to the other teams.”

[User] " I can get behind that. " says Darrin, picking at his half-forgotten plate. " Taking them out early would definitely help us to make a name for ourselves. If you and Baast are sure we can handle them so easily, I think that's our best bet. "

[User] "Saberfangs... I wonder if we might meet that one..."   Morrigan wonders allowed, her mind wandering to recent recollections even as she divides a homemade pie into quarters.  "It makes no difference to us, in the end."  she adds after Darrin, handing each person a piece in the process.

[User]
 Baast slaps his knee at Morrigan's comment.  That's the spirit runt! Don't matter who it is, because in the end, we are going to win anyway.

He sets his plate on the table before stretching back in his chair far enough to be parallel to the ground.

  So boss, when do we get to have our little play date? Looking to work off my R&R weight.

[User]
 Headquarters  - Meeting Room - All

"I can have a message sent to Team Rakshasa's manager, and we should have word from the ZBC within the next day."

[User]
 Battle field  - All

With lots of messages send and paperwork shuffled, the next few days pass quickly. Soon enough, the day of the battle arrives. Team Eclipse arrives in a mesa, just in time to see a white capsule rocket down from the sky.

"Battle mode 0973 approved.

The area with a 30 mile radius is a designated Zoid battle field. This zone is now is restricted. Only competitors and personal have authorized entry.

Area scanned. Battle field set up. The team vs the team. Battle mode 0973, ready, fight!"

 Spoiler: Initiative
Team A: Gun Sniper, Konig Wolf, Guysack
Enemy B: Saber Fang 1, Saber Fang 2, Saber Fang 3
Team C: Demantis, Aegis
Enemy D: Saber Fang 4, Saber Fang 5

Please place yourself somewhere above row 8 and left of row H.

[User] Tanya checks over her Konig Wolf,  "Systems online, everything is a go, I'll move ahead and try to flank them after cloaking, make use of my chaff smoke if they start firing from afar. Even if they're all Saber Fangs, they can all still have varying loadouts so be careful and don't charge in. Make use of cover and don't get caught between two of them. If you're singled out your system is as good as frozen."  She warns the others, advancing once the fight starts to cloak her zoid before moving out of cover.


[User]
 The weather was dark and grim, the rain covering up the streets in an ever persistant haze with neon signs barely poking through it. In all honesty the rain wasn't that dangerous, sure there were over a dozen articles from different medical corps proclaiming it to be unhealthy over the long term. The only cure, available through a ten year contract they sold for more than most people owned. Most squatters had grown used to it and gone on with their lives, preferring to deal with the very real problems in front of them.

The time was late afternoon, while corporate citizens were busy slaving away inside self-sufficient giant acrologies the rest of Seattle was reminded just how dead and hopeless the world had become. Despite the futility of existance, some worthwhile individuals fought against destiny, daring to exploit the system and force their existance on to what was left of this world.

[User]
 Frank Castle had just gotten off his last 'job' for his employer, taking care of some low level thugs in the near by Barrons that had apparently caused some issues and problems for him. The exchange for this deal with a small crate of ammo for his various guns that he had purchased from his employer. Frank had brought it into his home using a dufflebag and using his key to enter his small apartment, he walked in through the front door and walked directly towards his second bedroom where he kept all of his weapons and armor and everything else. Frank placed the duffle bag on the ground next to the other dufflebags and then turned around and started to clean his weapons.

Frank always cleans his weapons after a mission if they had to be fired and sadly today they did.

[User]
 Geyser dropped back into meatspace with a disgusted sigh, looking up at his bare wall with its patched-over bullet holes and single dark waterstain.    Some things can't really be fixed.    He had just spent another half-dozen hours rooting idiot script kiddies' hacks out of the network used by the local gang, earning his protection.  The helpful hints he left for the crackhead who was  supposed  to be overwatch in that network would probably be ignored again.  A muted scream of metal and an echoing    KLANGG    drifted over from the chop shop next door.  The sound didn't rate a glance from the hideous-faced ork.

He checked through the notifications that got past the drek-filter on his lean mean machine of a commlink.  Nothing from the Exchange.  He sighed again; the network gave him something to look forward to beyond another gaz day of exploiting corps' imperfections for personal gain.  After grabbing a glass of tap water (not great, but better than what he'd had to drink four-fifths of his life so far) from the bathroom, he responded to a couple requests on his favorite peer-to-peer, then went back to scan the earlier messages.  Maybe something worthwhile would show.

[User]
 Michel sits in his clinic watching the door, with the occasional sip of rum. Things were slow right now, bad weather keeps people inside unless it's serious, but there was always the chance something interesting might come through the door.   And between my second sight and 99% of people not being able to tell mind reading magic from diagnosis magic, I am uniquely suited to handling the more interesting cases. If only one would show up.

There was another chance of something interesting coming up too, if Bagrat had some side work for him. But until Bagrat reached out to him about something, he'd have no idea when or what that would be, so there was no point wondering on it. And with his medical equipment taking up most of his MSP's bandwidth, entertainment on the matrix would be a poor solution to his boredom, so Michel takes another sip of Rum and returns his attention to door.

[User]
 Out on the streets was the nightcrawler, Peter G. Fry, the alter ego of a runner simply known as Jane Doe. She was a hard one to pin down, as she often wore a new face every other day or so. While in between jobs, she often ran as Peter G. Fry to get pictures of crime scenes taken as fast as possible. Granted some of those scenes where her own runs, but lately it was quite.

Occassionally she offered a temp service were she'd help someone who was needing a day or two off. She had to get paid ahead of time, but she'd fill in for them during that time, with the wide range of skills she had. Granted, this was something she did more often to get information from those positions, though she wouldn't take anything too complex, strenuous, or expensive that could risk exposing her operation.


[User]
 Spoiler: OOC
You'll be making the first introductiry post I think.


[User]
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[User]
 The train car gently rocks as it hurtles down the Lightning Rail away from Sharn.  The other passengers sit idly by, sipping their drinks or reading the newspaper.  A few guards in House Orien livery stand at each end of the car, near the doors, ostensibly to keep the peace.

However, you're no mere travelers.  There's something you've been sent to steal: a crate of Khyber Dragonshards rests in the penultimate car of the train, along with a bounty of treasures from Xen'drik.  You're to intercept those Dragonshards for your client, a human from Lower Dura named Castien, who's working as an intermediary for a Lhazaar Prince.

About a quarter of an hour has passed since the train departed from Terminus Station.  In 45 minutes, you need to have the crate, along with anything else you decide to take, on the roof of the train, to be picked up via airship.

...Try not to get caught.

[User] Orien.  Eh.  Fair enough, Vivek supposed, but honestly if anything it showed a failure of imagination.  Or of their opponent's pocketbooks.  In either case it was borderline indefensible.  Making no great haste he strolled to the end of the car, giving the guards a curt nod as he attempted to move to the next car down the line.

[User] Fiora threw an arm in front of Vivek, or rather, the Mad Harpy did. If she wanted any chance of reclaiming her rightful place as head of the family, Fiora couldn't be seen doing this. Thus she wore a dark hood over her normal dress and a scarf beneath that.  "Wait. There's 100 extra galifar for your help on a little side mission before the main event."

[User]
 "... Target, parameters as to secrecy, will you be requesting the additional violence fee?"
Vivek fishes a a sheet of parchment from his pack as he speaks, twisting the cap on his ring off to expose his house signet.

[User]
 As the two compatriots in the heist discuss personal matters in front of the guards, a member of the clergy makes her way by taking use of the distraction to pass one of the guards.   The distraction should provide eyes away from her and away from her dexterous hands. Surely the sound of the tram, the people in front of them and all the other goings on will make it hard to notice the removal of keys.

In and out like always    should be easy.  Though its been years.

 Spoiler: sleight of hand

 (1d20+6)[ 22 ]

if anything provides advantage or disadvantage
 (1d20+6)[ 16 ]

[User] Fiora takes a deep breath. Do or die.  "Morgrave University professor and his Medani guardians. He told everyone he'd be leaving on the evening train, but he's here, disguised and traveling under a false name. He's incognito, so he can't have a whole buncha guards. Seer and hitter. That's it. Plan is to go fast and hard, and, much as we can, quiet, so's not to mess up the big show. Nobody dead or permanently crippled. I need good, live witnesses."  Not to mention she didn't want to see her family hurt just for serving her brother.  "You're Tharashk, so figure that's not hard."  She looks down at his hands.  "Really? There's paperwork?"  Fiora sighs. Beggars can't be choosers. She pinwheels a hand.  "Okay, okay. How much is the fee, and what constitutes 'additional violence'?"


[User]
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