Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Heroes of the Vampire Kingdoms
GM: Pender Lumkiss
Post Reply
User avatar
Pender Lumkiss
Diamond Patron
Diamond Patron
Posts: 3648
Joined: Thu Mar 09, 2017 9:00 pm

Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Post by Pender Lumkiss »


All Players receive +1 Benny! Also your self imposed complications are still in effect after the interlude. If the gm has question for you below, please clarify with a pm.
-Pen, no weapons ( technically, Karl has all your weapons)
-Grynn, cat form
-Luc, lack of magic
-Ashlyn, divine power blocked
-Fizz, not exactly sure what your complication was, lack of devices??
-Vela, not 100% sure what your complication was, berserk, off by yourself, turning into a vampire?
-Krys, no sign of Serenia
-Ndeare, Un able to use Big Ass Gun and helmet was forced open.

Archon Pic
Archon.jpg
The Archon's ( Creatures of pure magic) assemble and draw you back into a rift taking you to El Paso. The experience is more disconcerting and disorienting than the journey to the lava caverns. Perhaps it was all the legendary items gathered, or perhaps it was interference from a place beyond time and space. For a moment each of you draw the other heroes to a place of special meaning. Perhaps it is a place that gives you great sorrow. Maybe it is a place that holds true terror in your heart. It might even be a site of a great victory where against all odds you emerged triumphant. This place could even be one that is fond and holds your very heart in loving memory to this day. It is random as the wind is, as you emerge from the rift the arid air of El Paso greets you. Was your journey to other places a dream or real? Were the places filled with other people or were they more solitary? It is then, upon exiting, you finally face the true meaning of where each of you brought the others, and you can sense as you emerge from the fleeting rift you are not alone! Who is it greeting you on the other side is a bit unclear and hazy, perhaps being observant will help clear things up.

Sabazio take you to a cave:

All of you get a brief image of an iridescent cave with two babies wailing and Sabazio kneeling over a pool of water in the cave.
OOC Comments
Details of this will be forth coming once High Command is back into active status.
Benny Opportunity
Include a cool photo of the place you take the other heroes!
This scene will count as your interlude for the quad, please follow the directions below...
Player Directions for interlude
Start by Rolling a d4 and consult the table below for the general theme of your interlude. All benifits or complications will be tallied by the gm and directions on how to resolve them will be given in the next scenes post.
  • 1) Fear: You have taken the heroes of New Del Rio to a place of abject horror. Describe what makes it do bone chilling and why your character's mind forever dwell's in this place. In the next scene, after the interlude, all players must make a fear check from encountering the essence of fear. If more than one player rolls this add -1 to the fear check per player who rolls a 1 on the d4.
  • 2) Love: You take the heroes to a fond place where your heart always dwells. Describe what in particular you find about this place that gives you the warm tingling feeling of unbridled love. In the next scene, after the interlude, all players receive +1 benny from such a comforting place. If more than 1 player rolls a 2 each roll adds +1 benny in the next scene after the interlude.
  • 3) Victory: You take the Resolute to the site of your greatest triumph. Here it was that you succeeded against all odds. Describe the challenge and how your victory shaped your characters life forever onward. In the next scene, all players receive +1 to a single trait roll during their first action as they are emboldened by triumphant scene. If more than 1 player rolls a 3 each roll adds +1 to that single trait roll.
  • 4) Loss: You take the heroes to a mind or soul crushing place of your greatest tragedy. Here it was that you loss something so profound to the core of your being that the pain from the place, the undeniable sadness, literately drains you. Players make a spirit or smarts roll vs fatigue in the scene after the interludes, a fail on this roll means the player is exhausted until they can cry. Each player who rolls a 4 on their d4 roll adds a -1 to this roll.
Recap:
1) Make sure Pender accurately captured your self inflicted complication in the Soldad's Revenge Scene
2) Roll for your Interlude Theme.
3) Please include a notice roll at the end of your post. Please include any special edges or abilities that affect or work off the notice roll, like danger sense or sense vampires.

Oh if you missed the resolution of Soldad's Revenge check it out here: Click me
Field Team Six Bennies
3/6
User avatar
Penitent
Posts: 189
Joined: Thu Jun 29, 2017 9:32 pm

Re: Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Post by Penitent »

[dice]0[/dice] = Loss. Oooh, this'll be fun.

Narrative below.
Penitent
Quick Stats
Wormwood Apok
Bennies: 0/3 +1 Red Benny (1d10 for EE or 1d10 Wild Die on a reroll)
Agility d8, Smarts d8, Spirit d8, Strength d10 (1d12), Vigor d10 (1d12) -1 Fatigue
Charisma: -2 (-4); Pace: 8 (d10); Parry: 8 (9); Toughness: 20 (8) or 22 (8) with mask; 32 (18) with greater armor
Hindrances: Heroic, Death Wish, Overconfident, Delusional (Dunscon is the Unholy), Vow (Find daughter)
Notice d8, Intimidation d8+2
Edges and Abilities of Note: Improved Level-Headed (draw 3 initiative cards); Immune to Fear, +4 vs. mind control and possession; Notice roll to detect surprise attack or ambush by supernatural/magic foes; Ambidextrous + Two-Fisted; Gain AP 2 with melee attacks for 1 PPE; Champion
PPE: 4/20 + 10/10 (demon mask) + 10/10 (Karl - ?)
Powers (all Mega): armor with shroud trapping (ranged attacks are -1), auto-raise, cast as free action; blast with flammable and hallowed trapping (counts as cold and silver); fear with hallowed trapping (supernatural and magic are -2 to resist); quickness; smite with hallowed trapping (holy and silver), auto-raise, cast as free action.
Adventure Cards:
Active Effects: quickness with a Raise (Gains an extra round of actions, redraws Initiative of 8 or less), greater armor with a Raise (+10 Armor), and fly(at Pace)
User avatar
Ashlyn Alvarez
Diamond Patron
Diamond Patron
Posts: 260
Joined: Sat Jul 01, 2017 5:16 am

Re: Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Post by Ashlyn Alvarez »

Notice 7 Success
Alertness, Danger Sense
Notice [dice]0[/dice]
Wild [dice]1[/dice]
Interlude: [dice]2[/dice] - Victory

***

Ashlyn stared down at the shield she held in her hand, picked up from a small hoard Soledad had collected. There was no way he had wanted it for himself. He never would have been able to use it. This was a trophy, proof he had vanquished a powerful Magdalena. Ashlyn ran her fingers through the blood that stained the silver cross and blended with the red fleur-des-lis on the white field. It was said this shield was born by the first Magdalena, Saint Jeanne d’Arc, when she broke the siege of Orleans, imbued with the power of the Almighty by the Lady of Domremy. It had been passed down their ranks through the centuries as their order combated evil in the shadows of both Church and State.

“It is yours now,” Sister Penelope said quietly, putting a hand on Ashlyn’s shoulder.

Ashlyn looked up, startled. “But...surely there is someone more worthy than me!” she said. “There are many ahead of me in the Order that would surely covet this relic.”

Sister Penelope smiled. “Covet, yes,” she said. “And covetousness is a sin.”

Ashlyn blushed at the reminder.

“I do not wish to cause problems in the Order, Sister Penelope.”

“Who else has defeated such an ancient and powerful vampire?” Penelope asked. “I would say you are more than worthy to follow in Sister Amelie’s footsteps. may she rest in peace.”

They both crossed themselves. “I am sorry for your loss, Penny,” Ashlyn murmured, hugging Sister Penelope.

As Ashlyn gathered with the others for the trip back to El Paso, she contemplated the first time she had seen the shield, and the last bearer of it.

***

The air was cold as Ashlyn got out of bed and lined up with the other girls from the Magdalene House. The boys from the Petrine House across the yard lined up opposite them. She was thirteen. Her year of penance for murdering Tomas had passed, though the other kids still gave her side glances, wondering when she would lose it again, and if they would be the ones lying beneath her, their blood soaking her.

It was also a year since the power of her mind had awakened and she had been sent to the Magdalenas for training.

Ashlyn shivered in the cold. She stared at the strange, wet, white stuff covering the ground. Snow, the other kids called it. New Alamo only got snow occasionally. Ashlyn had never seen the stuff. It made her bare feet numb, though it wasn’t deep.

Ashlyn fought the urge to wrap her arms around her slender young body. Like the others, she wore only the white shorts and white sleeveless t-shirt she had worn to bed, her small, developing breasts hardening beneath the thin fabric. Some of the boys were worse. Some of them didn’t have t-shirts.

Ashlyn glanced down the lines. Everyone else was about two years older than her, fifteen summers, at least, some older. All were hoping to get accepted into training to become a real Magdalena or Cyber-Knight, which were the better odds, as the Magdalenas only took girls.

Ashlyn clenched her small fists against the cold. She focused on clenching and unclenching the muscles in her body, generating tension and heat to keep warm. The door to the chapel opened and three figures walked out, two tall women in robes and warm cloaks of the Magdalenas, and a short old man in...a bathrobe?

“Too fuckin’ early. And too fuckin’ cold!” Sir Pedro bitched as he walked between the two Magdalenas. He pulled out a flask of tequila and took a long drink. Then Ashlyn stared as silver metal started to flow over his body. “That’s better.”

The two sisters looked over Pedro’s head at each other, one rolling her eyes, the other grinning. Each grabbed one of Sir Pedro’s arms as they stopped at the head of the lines of children, stopping the old cyber-knight from continuing on down the field -- and probably propping him up. Ashlyn could smell the tequila on the cold breeze that rippled up her t-shirt.

Ashlyn’s gaze went to the two Magdalenas. Sister Penelope had been with the New Alamo patrol that had rescued her from Soldad, brought her to New Alamo, and given her a home. She was Novice Mistress now, and if Ashlyn passed today’s test, she would be put under Penelope’s care.

The other woman seemed Sister Penelope’s opposite, blonde where she was dark, though both had blue eyes. Sister Amelie was Penelope’s actual sister, though a few years older. She was the Mistress Militant, in charge of coordinating patrols and defense of New Alamo with the cyber-knights, and making sure the Magdalenas were combat ready when they eventually went on patrol. She was supposedly the best fighter in the Magdalenas, and that was why she got to carry the shield she did, a silver cross on a red fleur-des-lis on a white background, a holy relic, the Shield of St. Jean d’Arc.

Ashlyn’s attention was pulled back to Sir Pedro as he pulled out from his robe a willow switch. He started to pace up and down the lines as the sun was beginning to crest in the east, eying each boy and girl in turn.

“This is the garbage you’re giving me to work with?” Pedro asked Sister Penelope.

“They are the ones who volunteered for the test, Sir Pedro,” Penelope said.

Pedro stopped in front of Ashlyn. She stood up straighter, meeting the old cyber-knight’s intense gaze. “The runt is a little young, ain’t she?” Pedro asked, looking her up and down, though he didn’t look at her like Tomas had.

Ashlyn’s cheeks flared. “I’m not a runt!” she protested.

THWACK!

Ashlyn yelped as the willow switch smacked her backside. “Did I say you could talk back, runt?” he asked with a furious intensity in his voice, though strangely there was no meanness or viciousness in his eyes.

Ashlyn rubbed the rising welt on her butt and cringed. “No, Señor Pedro,” she murmured.

Bueno, Pedro said, moving on down the line.

“This test will push you to your limits,” Pedro spoke loudly to the field. “Only the best will be allowed to join the Magdalenas and the Cyber-Knights. If you ever want to stop, just get to Sister Amelie’s shield and tap out.”

Pedro paced along the lines again. “There are only three kinds of people in this world. The sheep,” he pointed his switch out over the town of New Alamo, “the wolves that prey on the sheep, and the sheepdogs that protect the sheep from the wolves. Today we find out if you can be a sheepdog.”

Sir Pedro whacked one of the boys with his switch. “Pay attention and stop starin’ at the ladies in their undies!” he scolded. “Bloody teenagers. Should make you all eunuchs before we do this.”

Ashlyn flushed, but she’d noticed more than one boy staring across the field at the half dressed girls. They were all older and more developed than she was, so most attention wasn’t on her, but she still felt...exposed, vulnerable. Weak.

She stood up straighter. No. She wouldn’t be weak. She had survived Soldad. Weakness wouldn’t pass this test. She would be a Magdalena!

Sir Pedro stopped at the end of the field. “Fall in!” he barked.

There was a mad scramble to form a single line in the center of the field, boys and girls mixing. Gender wouldn’t matter this day. All that mattered was you pushed yourself to your limit, and then beyond. She knew Sir Pedro would beat a girl with that switch as readily as he would the boys. She had the welt on her ass to prove it.

Once they were lined up, Sister Penelope and Sister Amelie came to the front of the lines with Sir Pedro. They had removed their robes and now stood in just tight black second skin body armor that hugged and accentuated their curves. It would protect them from the cold. Sister Amelie had strapped the holy shield to her arm. She had a silver vibrosword on her back.

Sister Penelope pulled the bathrobe off of Sir Pedro. He cursed at her for being so hasty and grabbed his silver flask from the pocket, tying the belt of the robe around his waist so he could clip the flask to it. Ashlyn couldn’t help but giggle a little, which sent a twitter up the line until Sir Pedro’s icy gaze froze it colder than the ground beneath their bare feet. His normal cyber-knight armor hid it usually, but the old knight was lean and scrawny of build in just his cyber-armor. His muscles were tight and sinewy, his build belying the strength the old man still maintained. Ashlyn figured Pedro had been born old and just kept getting older, too ornery to leat Death have him.

Ashlyn felt the person behind her press up against her and glanced over her shoulder. She rolled her eyes and stepped forward a bit, though there wasn’t much room in the line. “Miguel,” Ashlyn warned. He was older than her at fifteen, and had been one of Tomas’ friends.

“Nice rack there, runt,” Miguel said, looking down Ashlyn’s white tank, her mother’s silver cross glinting between her small, pert breasts, pointed from the cold. “You sure you’ll be able to keep up?”

Ashlyn turned away. “I’ll show you nice rack,” she said, swinging her fist back and catching Miguel in the groin. He grunted and doubled over, pressing his face into Ashlyn’s back. His tears were warm.

“I’ll get you, you puta! he snarled.

The line was moving now as everyone started off at a jog following the Magdalenas. Pedro fell back, eying the line of teens as they ran through town toward the gates of New Alamo. They crossed the moat on the bridge. Ashlyn noted the ice rimming the water. She imagined the techno-wizard engineers that kept the water in the moat flowing would be hard at work today. A frozen over moat was no protection from wild vampires.

They turned right out of the gate. The frozen grass felt sharp against her bare feet as Ashlyn ran, her breath puffing in front of her face. She stared at the back of the boy’s head in front of her. Focus, she told herself. Work through the cold.

Halfway around the city, Sir Pedro yelled, “Pick it up!” Penelope and Amelie sped up, and the running line of teens followed. This was nearly a sprint. Ashlyn’s skinny legs pumped. Her bare feet were numb by now, barely acknowledging hitting the ground. Her lungs burned from the cold. She clenched her fists, fingers numb, as she pushed herself. She felt Miguel, with his longer stride, pressuring her from behind. Sir Pedro ran down the line, whipping his willow switch around, cursing and swearing at them to “Run, damn it!” More than one teen caught a switch on the backside, including Ashlyn.

They turned the corner of the palisade onto the flood embankment running along the river beside New Alamo. The path atop the embankment was narrow and icy. Going at a full run made footing treacherous, threatening a turned ankle or a tumble down the ten foot slope into the cold water of the river. Ahead, someone did just that, giving a shout of surprise as a girl took a spill and a splash into the water. Another fell, and the line just kept going, jumping over him. Sir Pedro rushed along the bank, alternately swatting at their calves to keep them moving, or beating those in the river, cursing at them to get back in line and run, though Ashlyn noted they came out with significantly fewer welts from the switch than they should have. Perhaps Sir Pedro was hitting the water more than them.

Ashlyn felt Miguel breathing down her neck. He started purposefully stepping on her heels. Pendejo! Ashlyn snarled, stumbling, but managing to keep her footing. Miguel pulled alongside her and hip bumped her, sending her careening to the edge of the path. She stepped off and lost her balance, tumbling down the slope and into the river with a splash.

Ashlyn gave a shout of shock as the cold hit her. She came up gasping and flailing. She had learned to swim in this river years ago, as most New Alamo kids did, but that was in the summer! It wasn’t deep here, but she struggled to find her footing and keep her brain from shutting down

“Get out of the water and back in line, runt!” Pedro yelled. She felt the hot sting of his switch on her shoulder. She focused on the heated pain, driving back the cold and panic momentarily enough to get her footing. “Let’s go, runt! You think because you’re the youngest you can slack off? That you get special treatment! Get your ass back in line!”

Another twack caught Ashlyn on the backside as she scrambled up the bank, back into the line. She saw Miguel up ahead turn and grin at her. Her white tank top and boxers were soaked, sticking to lithe young body, the tank nearly transparent now. She could feel her boxers already stiffening with ice as she ran, and her teeth started to chatter.

Ashlyn pushed herself harder. Her black hair hung stiff and icy in her face. They reached the bridge over the moat. Ashlyn noted a knot of teens around Sister Amelie, fallen to the ground. Magdalenas were waiting with blankets and hot cocoa. They had obviously tapped out. Ashlyn looked at them with envy, her body starting to shiver, but she remained steadfastly in line as they were ordered to pull up.

“Alright, everybody in!” Pedro yelled.

They all stared at him, wide eyed.

“I said everybody in the moat!” Pedro barked. “Don’t make me fucking repeat myself!” His switch started up again, and the teens started tumbling down the embankment into the cold water of the moat.

“Fuck you, old man!” someone said, and another knot of teens went to Sister Amelie to tap out.

Ashlyn steeled herself. She was already wet and cold. She glared at Sir Pedro and, before he could switch her, jumped into the water.

The moat wasn’t very deep. It’s primary purpose was to surround the city with running water. Ashlyn huddled in a line with the other candidates, their arms linked together as they sat there, shivering. They glared up out of the moat as Sir Pedro and the Sisters sat down for breakfast, including hot coffee -- liberally mixed with tequila for Sir Pedro.

Ashlyn lost track of how long they sat there. Hours, maybe. The sun moved high in the sky, starting to warm things, the snow melting, the ice on the edges of the moat disappearing. Occasionally someone would give in, breaking the line and scrambling up the bank to tap out on Sister Amelie’s shield, and then be given a blanket, a change of warm clothes, and a hot drink. Ashlyn cursed them for their weakness. It threatened to infect her. She could feel it. It would be so easy. She was thirteen. She wasn’t expected to endure these trials. She had two years.

And she had to pee. Ashlyn sighed as she let go, feeling the water warm around her. Oh, that felt good.

Lord, I want to be one of your chosen! Please! Help me. Give me strength! Ashlyn prayed, looking up at the sun as it rose toward noon, fingering her silver cross. The light seemed to glitter off the silver, and Ashlyn felt another warmth flow through her. It pushed away the cold, stopped her shivering, and she sighed. It was like a comfortable summer day floating on the river.

Atop the bridge, Pedro, Penelope, and Amelie all paused and looked at each other.

“How long has she been channeling miracles?” Amelie whispered to Penelope.

Sister Penelope shrugged. “She came into her psionics last year, after…” She didn’t mention Ashlyn’s murder of Tomas. “She has been in seclusion and training her abilities since. But this is the first divine manifestation I have felt from her.”

They leaned back, munching on their sweet rolls and sipping coffee as they watched. Ashlyn just had her eyes closed, even as more and more teens broke ranks to tap out.

Finally Pedro stood up. “Everybody out!” he yelled, swinging his switch at the unfortunate boy who happened to be closest to the bridge. As they all scrambled, shivering, out of the moat, the Sisters sent those who tapped out back into the city with hanging heads. They would not be chosen this year.

Ashlyn lined up again and they were marched out at a run again to the training field that had been set up outside the city. “Pair up!” Pedro yelled.

Ashlyn felt her arm grabbed, and looked up into Miguel’s sneering face. “Come on, puta. You and me.”

Ashlyn blinked, and then scowled, yanking her arm free. “Fine!” she agreed as they lined up again. When Sir Pedro swung his switch at them to go, they raced off down the field. Miguel’s longer legs pulled him ahead a bit, but Ashlyn hit the first obstacle right behind him, dancing nimbly through the tires that had been laid out on the grass. She did it a bit quicker than him, so had the lead as they raced toward the next challenge.

Ashlyn dove into the cold, wet mud beneath the razor wire staked out above it. Water and mud soaked her tank again, and she felt the sharp slice of the wire as it caught her shirt and bit into her skin, leaving a bloody line, but she scrambled through. She had the advantage of being smaller for this challenge, and was pleased to note that Miguel’s back was a lot bloodier, his shirt more torn, than hers as they raced on.

Miguel hit the wall first, jumping and grabbing the rope. Ashlyn followed, grunting as she started to pull herself up. Here her youth and small size failed her. Ashlyn just wasn’t that strong. She struggled to climb the wall. Miguel reached the top and sneered down at her.

“You’ll never beat me,” he said, then kicked her in the face.

Ashlyn felt her nose explode in blood and she fell, her head hitting the ground hard. Luckily the ground was still soft after the thaw, and she only saw a few stars as she watched Miguel disappear down the other side of the wall.

“Shit fucker!” Ashlyn cursed, scrambling up. Lord! she begged. She felt a surge of strength in her arms. It seemed easier to mount the wall this time. She dropped down the other side, landing and rolling to her feet, already running after Miguel as he was hitting the monkey bars. Sharp caltrops littered the ground beneath them, ready to slice her feet if she fell.

With determination, Ashlyn leapt. The bars were high, and Miguel had several inches of height on her. Her fingers wrapped around the bar and started to slip, but she gave a cry of prayer and...they stuck! Ashlyn pulled herself up, watching Miguel swing along the obstacle. There was no way she could match his speed. Unless…

Ashlyn pulled herself up, on top of the bars. Her bare feet skipped from rung to rung as she raced along, her tank stained with water, mud, and blood. She grinned as she caught up with Miguel and then leapt across, landing on his bars. She stomped his fingers with a vengeance, and he cried out in pain, falling onto the sharp caltrops.

“You fucking bitch!” Miguel yelled as she raced along the bars. Feet cut and bleeding, he leapt up and grabbed the bars again to race after her.

Ashlyn jumped down, rolling in the grass again to keep momentum. Miguel hit the ground behind her, limping along after her, leaving bloody footprints. But she had the advantage now!

Ashlyn jumped onto the balance beam. She learned the hard way just why this was a challenge. Slick oil covered the beam, and her feet went sliding out from under her. She hit the beam hard on her back and rolled off with a groan of pain. Merde! she cursed, forcing herself to crawl to back to the beginning of the challenge.

Miguel laughed as he passed, giving Ashlyn a kick in the ribs as he did so. He’d seen her fall, so he mounted the beam more carefully, arms out, moving along it.

Ashlyn glared as she pulled herself up. She eyed her slippery beam, and then grinned. Backing up to get a running start, she charged at it as fast as she could. With a leap, she landed on her butt, her momentum carrying her along as she slid along the beam. Miguel cursed as Ashlyn passed her, tumbling into the grass on the other side, and was up and running again.

Ashlyn hit the river before Miguel. She dove in. The water was still cold, though it had warmed up since the sun had gotten high. This leg of the challenge required swimming a mile upstream against the current. It was tough going. Ashlyn wasn’t a very good swimmer. But then neither, it seemed, was Miguel. The current was fairly strong, and both struggled against it. Ashlyn could see the exit for the last part of the course.

Behind her, Ashlyn heard a cry. Looking back, she saw Miguel struggling, his head slipping under the water. Ashlyn looked ahead again. She was so close!

Dios! Ashlyn sighed, turning around and swimming back. She grabbed Miguel, pulling him against her chest as she went onto her back, kicking against the current. Miguel sputtered and hacked, drawing in deep breaths.

Ashlyn looked upstream. They were nearly to the marked exit. She felt Miguel moving again. He turned around and grabbed her. Ashlyn gave a surprised cry before his greater weight and strength shoved her under the water. He held her there as she thrashed, clawing at his arms, trying to kick him, anything to get free. Her vision contracted, her mind panicking.

No! Focus! Keep it together! Ashlyn yelled at herself. She remembered her training. A clear, calm mind was needed to use her powers.

Well, a panicked mind would have to do. Ashlyn shoved her hand against Miguel’s chest and pushed. Mental energy slammed into the boy and he went flying into the air, out of the water, landing hard on the grassy bank.

Ashlyn surged from the water, gasping for air as she struggled for the bank. Merde! She had just given him a big lead!

Waterlogged, Ashlyn raced up the bank. Miguel managed to recover from his fall and lashed out, snatching her ankle, sending her face planting into the grass. He pushed himself up, stepped on her back, and ran on.

Ashlyn got up and raced after him.

They both hit the bed of hot coals and pulled up.

“You have to be fucking kidding me?” Miguel groaned.

“Qué?” Ashlyn taunted. “You scared?” With that, she stepped out onto the coals. She hissed as she heard the sizzle, but it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected.

Puta, Miguel growled, stepping out after her, dancing across the coals.

Tu madre,” Ashlyn shot back.

As they reached the end of the coals, Ashlyn saw the final challenge ahead. Sister Amelie stood supervising a Grand Melee. The students who had already completed the course were locked in combat with training staves. Some were already on the ground unconscious, being dragged off the field by waiting Magdalenas for healing. Some were locked in one on one combat. Others had chosen to band together, fighting in larger groups. One group had focused on Tank, the largest boy in the challenge, seeking to take him down. Tank was strong as an ox and could take a lot of punishment, but he was slow and not that bright. He was holding his own, but it was only a matter of time.

Ashlyn’s eyes narrowed and she looked at Miguel. He glared right back at her. Then they both raced into the field. The training weapons were on the far side. They were going to have to make it through the fighters to get a weapon.

Unless...one did what Miguel did. He blindsided one of the girls, tackling her from behind as she was defending herself from another girl. He grabbed her ponytail and slammed her face into the ground several times before grabbing her staff. He swung it at Ashlyn, but she ducked, and then Miguel had to defend himself from the other girl.

Ashlyn raced across the field. She saw Pike up ahead. He was the tallest boy in the competition, and a competent fighter with long reach. He had just bested an opponent and, seeing Ashlyn charging for the weapons, took a stance to oppose her, thinking her an easy opponent without a weapon, the smallest contestant.

He was right. Ashlyn was going too fast to change direction, so she dropped. The field was mostly mud and wet grass by now. She hit her knees just as Pike swung his staff at her head, her momentum sending her sliding. She leaned way back as the staff missed her by a mile and she slid right between Pike’s legs.

Straightening quickly, Ashlyn braked with her hands in front of her and kicked at the back of Pike’s knee, sending him staggering away. She got up quickly and grabbed a staff just in time to parry a blow from one of the other girls. She ducked under the next swing and slammed the butt of the staff into the girl’s gut, driving her back as Ashlyn spun away.

Her eyes locked with Miguel’s across the field. “Son of a whore,” Ashlyn growled, both their intents clear on their faces as they stalked across the battlefield toward each other. Part of Ashlyn’s brain was screaming at her. This was stupid! She was small and weak. She had been sequestered away for the last year, training with her mental powers, not getting the informal preliminary fight training the others had.

Lord, grant me righteous vengeance!

Ashlyn felt a surge of heat through her body. She shifted the grip on her staff, unconsciously making it more professional, more competent.

Miguel grinned. He charged at her, raising his staff high in a powerful blow that surely would have broken bones. Ashlyn pirouetted and spun, leaning back as the staff swept an inch from her nose. She came up in a stance, ready, as Miguel recentered also, more wary now.

“Pick on someone your own size, Miguel!” came a deep voice. Tank yanked Miguel off his feet by the back of his neck, spinning the boy around to face him. The problem was, no one was Tank’s size. Apparently he’d bested the group that had been focusing on him. His nose was broken, blood covering his bare, muscled chest, one eye swollen shut, and some definite bruises along his ribs that might be broken. “You like picking on little girls?”

Miguel barely got his staff up in time to block Tank’s massive swing. “Merde!” he cursed, eyes wide.

“NO!” Ashlyn screamed. “He mine!” Ashlyn charged at Tank and Miguel. She planted her staff and vaulted, her body coming straight, her bare feet slamming into Tank’s face. She felt bone crunch and the large boy toppled back and didn’t move.

Ashlyn landed and rolled, her eyes meeting Miguel’s. His eyes were wide, and some of the fighting around them had suddenly stopped to stare at the little girl standing over Tank’s massive body.

But Ashlyn only had eyes for Miguel.

He shook himself out of his shock and grinned ferally, readying his staff. Ashlyn made a few probing attacks, which he batted away. Then he countered. She ducked, swinging and cracking his thigh. He grunted and sidestepped, absorbing the blow. His staff slammed her arm, making it numb for a moment.

They probed, parried, and struck. Occasionally the nonverbally called a truce to deal with some other opportunistic challenger who tried to sneak in a blow, both pummeling one girl mercilessly until she lay bleeding and unconscious. The other challengers got the message, leaving them to their duel as they became the last on the field.

Ashlyn noticed Miguel was favoring a stationary position, shifting but not really moving much. It made sense. His feet had been cut up at the monkey bars. Her own feet smarted from the running they had done all day and the hot coals, but his were worse. So she pressed him, forcing him to have to shift stance, to move his feet. She gave him a blow to the gut that winded him, but not long enough. She paid for it as he cracked one of her ribs.

“Tomas was my friend, you murdering bitch,” Miguel growled. “If you hadn’t been in seclusion, I would have done this months ago.”

Ashlyn glared. “Tomas, he touch me. He sit on me and choke me and tear my bedclothes. He pull out his…try to put in me...” Her vision blurred as tears accompanied the memory. She shook them away. No! She was not weak! She remembered Sir Pedro’s words, all those years ago. All that pain, that hatred, that fear. Don’t waste it. Use it to make you strong.

Ashlyn and Miguel came together with mighty blows. Their staves cracked, splintering in their hands, and then his weight barreled over her, taking her to the ground. They rolled, pummeling each other. Ashlyn bit his ear, tearing it, tasting blood in her mouth, blood like that night with Tomas, the warmth of it. His punch cut her forehead, sending blood spilling into her eyes. She kneed him in the groin. Other kids were cheering, chanting their names. Someone was shouting for the Sisters to stop it. Sister Penelope tried to push through the crowd, but Sir Pedro grabbed her with an iron grip and gave Sister Amelie a look.

Ashlyn headbutted Miguel, breaking his nose. More blood splashed her. She remembered that sensation, the spray of Tomas’ blood as she stabbed him with her silver letter opener, stabbing him again and again in a shower of arterial spray. Her vision turned red.

MIguel’s weight and strength gained the advantage and he rolled atop her. She flashed back to that night, staring up in fear at Tomas. Miguel reached to the side and grabbed one of the splintered ends of a fighting staff. He raised it high and stabbed down at her heart.

Ashlyn managed to twist just enough. The wood speared through her shoulder and she threw Miguel. He staggered to his feet as Ashlyn whimpered, struggling onto all fours. He kicked her in her cracked ribs, sending her rolling with searing pain. She barely heard him cursing her. His next kick caught her in the temple. Her vision exploded in light. She kept trying to get away, get to her feet. She had to if she wanted to survive. She had survived Soldad!

When her vision cleared, Ashlyn saw sunlight glinting off silver, red, and white. Sister Amelie stood at the edge of the crowd, her holy shield planted in front of her. Ashlyn felt her confidence waver. If she could get to the shield, touch it, tap out, they would have to help her...verdad?

Miguel kicked her in the side again. She heard the rib finally crack, searing pain in her side. She coughed up blood in the mud and grass. It was hard to breathe, each breath a searing hot poker. She crawled toward the shield, reaching.

“Maybe you asked Tomas for it, bitch,” Miguel sneered. “Maybe when I’m done here, I’ll give you what you want.”

Fury and bloodlust seared through Ashlyn’s pain and weakness. She surged up to her feet. She barely saw the look of shock on Sister Amelie’s face as she grabbed the Mistress Martial’s holy shield. It flared with silver light in Ashlyn’s blood-soaked hands as she swung it with all her might.

The shield caught Miguel across the face. Blood and teeth went flying into the grass as he staggered. Lung burning, still coughing up blood, Ashlyn staggered after him. She swung the heavy shield again the other way. Miguel fell to the grass, his jaw hanging at an odd angle. Ashlyn slammed the shield down atop his head, driving him into the ground. She leapt on him, straddling him, raising the shield point first for the finishing blow.

“Enough, niña,” came a stern voice, and firm hands grasped her wrists.

Ashlyn stared up through blood and tears at Sir Pedro’s scowling visage. Sister Amelie came and pulled the holy shield from her hands. Ashlyn stared down at Miguel’s broken face. She spat blood in it and then staggered up into Sir Pedro’s arms, fading into unconsciousness.

***

“Can she stand?”

Sir Pedro’s gruff voice broke through the blackness. Ashlyn stirred, groaning. She hurt all over.

“Well, look who’s awake,” Pedro said.

Ashlyn’s eyes blinked open, and Pedro reached down and grabbed the front of Ashlyn’s shirt, hauling her out of bed. She gave a cry of pain and protest, lashing out with a fist. She yelped as she cracked a knuckle on Sir Pedro’s armor.

Pedro stood holding her by the front of her shirt, glaring down at Ashlyn. He was dressed in full cyber-knight armor, though the helmet was off, his long, flowing grey hair and moustache exposed, as were his intense blue eyes.

Ashlyn blinked, finding her legs able to support her. She had been healed, but only just, enough to get her on her feet, but with enough pain and tenderness left to remind her. She had also been washed and changed. One of the sisters was folding up her torn, muddy, bloody clothes and she had been dressed again in fresh white tank top and boxers.

“Time for the ceremony.”

Ashlyn shook her head. “Do I have to go?” she asked. She had lost. She wouldn’t be accepted.

“Every challenger does.” Pedro pushed her toward the door. “Walk.” He gave her a swap with his willow switch on her ass.

Ashlyn yelped. Dios, I hate you, old man!”

Pedro just chuckled.

All of the challenger participants were lined up on the green, those who had tapped out in one long line, those who had not in the other. The sun was setting over New Alamo. She could smell the delicious feast prepared for after the ceremony coming from the refectory. Sisters Penelope and Amelie stood at the head of the lines of the resident sisters, all in full regalia, armor or robes as befit their station in the order. Cyber-knights formed another line in full armor.

Pedro gave Ashlyn a shove, and she hurried to a place in line. She spotted Miguel as well, and glowered. He met her glare. They had obviously healed him, as well. Ashlyn averted her gaze, staring down at the grass. She was a horrible person, wishing he was dead instead of healed. Why did she find it so easy to give in to that...bloodthirstiness inside of her? Why did she so enjoy the feel of hot blood on her skin?

Ashlyn felt a nudge from beside her and looked up...and up at Tank. The large boy gave her a shy smile, and she couldn’t help return it. Her cheeks flushed slightly and she looked away as Sister Penelope started to speak.

“The Challenge of Acceptance is no easy task,” the Magdalena said. “It measures strength, endurance, and will. It is no shame to fail the challenge. It is an honor to be accepted as a challenger. There are always other opportunities to prove oneself.”

Penelope looked around at those gathered. “But most of all, the Challenge is a challenge of the heart. Do you have the strength of character it takes to be a Magdalena, or a Cyber-Knight? Was this challenge just a means to show how exceptional you are? Or did you show compassion on a fallen opponent, did you show teamwork in facing a challenge? It is not enough to be the strongest on the field, or the fastest. A single strand is easily broken, but a threefold cord is not quickly broken.”

Ashlyn hung her head, feeling horrible, as Sister Amelie read off the names of those chosen. None of that was anything she had done. She and Miguel had been at each other's’ throats from the start of the challenge. She had tried to kill him. She had nearly succeeded. She looked down the line. As the names were read, Sister Penelope presented the robes of the novitiate to the girls who had indicated they were testing for the Magdalenas. Sir Pedro presented tabards to those who had been accepted by the cyber-knights, both boys and girls. She saw Miguel standing there, tall and smug, and she felt that burning cold hate inside of her again. She quickly squashed it. That was not what a Magdalena was about!

Sir Pedro stopped at Miguel and stared at the boy. And then he moved on. Miguel blinked in shock at not being accepted. He stared after Penelope and Pedro as they moved down the line.

“Tiberius Williams,” Sister Amelie said, and next to her, Tank stepped forward. “For bravery in the face of superior odds, restraint in defeating enemies, and standing up for those weaker than he.”

Sir Pedro grunted, handing the large boy a New Alamo cyber-knight tabard. “Just remember not to hold back so much when it’s vamps, kid.”

“Yes, sir. No, sir,” Tank stammered. He glanced over at Ashlyn, blushing a bit.

“Congratulations,” Ashlyn murmured, returning a sad smile. That was the last Chosen.

“Ashlyn Alvarez.”

Ashlyn started, looking over at Sister Amelie, and then Sister Penelope approaching her with the novice robes of a Magdalena.

“For steadfast endurance, determination, and compassion on a struggling foe, and for the blessing of the divine.”

Whispers went through the gathered Sisters, and Ashlyn stared at Sister Penelope in astonishment as she accepted her robes.

“What the fuck!” Miguel exclaimed loudly, stepping out of line. “She tapped out! She touched the shield! And she cheated! She used magic!”

“There is nothing in the rules about not using magic, Miguel,” Sister Penelope tried to explain calmly.

“It is expected that every Challenger will use all their resources in the test,” Sister Amelie added. “In this case, the fact that Novice Alvarez is already exhibiting the ability to channel miracles at this age, with little training, is a strong mark in her favor.”

Ashlyn blinked. What? Channeling miracles? She had only used her psionics once, to throw Miguel off of her when he was trying to drown her. Granted, that was quite a feat, since her telekinesis had never been that strong, but she assumed it was fear and adrenaline that factored into it.

Sir Pedro growled. “And there is no cheating when you are fighting for your life, boy.” He stared at Miguel.

“She’s a murderer and a psychopath!” Miguel shouted. “Is that the kind of girl you want protecting your city?”

Ashlyn hung her head in shame.

Sir Pedro let out a roar. His willow switch lashed out, leaving a bloody streak across Miguel’s cheek. He grabbed Miguel’s shirtfront and lifted him high in the air before slamming him hard into the ground, knocking the wind out of Miguel and coming to a knee beside the boy.

“You remember what I said before the Challenge, boy?” Pedro growled. “You deliberately chose the smallest and weakest challenger. And you couldn’t even beat her,” he sneered. “If you can’t win such an unfair fight, why would we want you protecting us? You are a wolf, boy,” Pedro snarled, getting in Miguel’s face. “And you will never be a cyber-knight as long as I draw breath!”

Sir Pedro raised his willow switch again, but Sister Amelie grabbed his wrist.

“I think the lesson is learned, Sir.”

“Is it?” Pedro asked, staring down Amelie, but he finally nodded and hauled Miguel to his feet. “Get yer ass out of the compound, boy. You’re done here. You can fend for yourself in the town.” He shoved Miguel toward the gates of the monastery and gave him a swift kick in the ass for good measure.

Stunned silence greeted the scene as Miguel trudged out into New Alamo proper. No one was more astonished than Ashlyn.

“All right, you gawkers!” Sir Pedro yelled. “There’s food to eat and tequila to drink! And someone get me a fucking whore! I’m done for the day!”

Sisters Penelope and Amelie winced, but the proclamation sent a ripple of chuckles through the assembled, and they all started to make their way to the refectory, the new Chosen slipping into their robes and tabards.

Ashlyn moved to the steps of her dormitory and sat down, her legs weak. She stared at her novitiate robes in surprise and reverence until three shadows loomed over her in the fading light.

Ashlyn looked up at Penelope, Amelie, and Pedro, blinking back tears. “Gracias…” she whispered hoarsely.

Sister Penelope shook her head. “No, you earned it, Novice Ashlyn,” she said. “Congratulations on being the youngest to be chosen to the novitiate.”

“But...I am no worthy. Those things you say. They no me.” The tears came more freely as she looked at her mentors.

“No one is, child,” Sister Amelie said. “You even I am worthy to carry this shield?” She laughed, and then grew more serious. “But it was a close thing. Not all thought you ready.”

Ashlyn lowered her head.

Sir Pedro reached down, gripping her face and forcing her to look up again, much as he did when she was a child and they had found her beneath the floorboards, covered in her mother’s blood.

“There’s a wolf in you, girl,” Pedro said. “You need to tame it.” He gave her a shove toward the refectory, and then, just to be sure, whacked her with his willow switch and a grin. “Now get in there and get me some tequila. And Sister Amelie, find me that whore.”

Amelie sighed. “She’s already inside waiting for you at your place, Sir Pedro.”

Pedro grinned. “Ah, you treat me so well, Sister!” He grabbed Amelie’s ass and then walked off.

Amelie grabbed Pedro’s switch and whacked him with it.

***

As they stepped into El Paso, Ashlyn stared down at the shield she held, the hot sun glinting off the silver cross. She still felt the demonic taint in her gut, blocking her divine access. It was feeding on that wolf inside of her she had thought she’d tamed, the bloodlust she had pushed deep down inside of her.

“I am not worthy, Sister Amelie, but I am trying to be.”
Last edited by Ashlyn Alvarez on Tue Feb 27, 2018 5:21 am, edited 1 time in total.
Character Tracker
Champion (+2 Damage, +2 Toughness)
Remember Blanca (WC; d8 all attributes, Strength d12+4)
Ashlyn Alvarez Character Sheet
Parry: 8; Toughness: Melee: 18 (9)/Range: 22 (13) + 2 vs supernatural evil
Encumbered: -2 to Str and Agi related rolls
Apocalypse Now: Enemies in direct confrontation with Ashlyn crit fail on a 1 or 2, even Extras.
Wild Die always a d8
Whenever you cast a spell with a Raise, reduce the PPE cost by 1 (min 0)
He Who Fights Monsters: +1d6 damage vs supernatural evil and you are always considered to have the drop on them the first round of combat. You also gain a +1 bonus to resist their powers and are more difficult for them to hit by that bonus.
Dodge: -1 to be hit by ranged attacks
Champion: +2 damage and Toughness vs. supernatural evil
Nerves of Steel: Ignore 1 point of Wound penalties
All Thumbs: When roll a 1 on Trait die while using tech, the device breaks.
Brave: +2 Fear tests
PPE: 15/25
  • Banish, Bolt, Boost/Lower, Detect Arcana, Divination, Healing, Holy Warrior, Entangle, Succor
ISP: 18/25
  • Telekinesis, Mind Reading, Puppet
Shield: 7/10 PPE
  • Deflection
Wand: 7/10 PPE
  • Dispel
Rangers: Nestor Calis (Leader) and 12 rangers (2 sleeping); 1 sun dogs (can be sacrificed as if like a benny)
  • Brave and strong willed: Fearless and able to follow their leader into the darkest of depravities: Spirit is a d8.
Bennies: 0/4
Adventure Cards
  • Once More With Feeling: Play to take any one Adventure Card from the discard pile.
  • Second Wind: Play on your hero to automatically remove all wounds sustained in this combat (but not crippling injuries). If Shaken, he is un- Shaken now as well.
  • Adrenaline Surge: Your hero gets an additional and immediate turn (including new movement).
User avatar
Sir Ndreare
Diamond Patron
Diamond Patron
Posts: 151
Joined: Wed Nov 08, 2017 2:38 pm

Re: Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Post by Sir Ndreare »

Victory
Interlude [dice]0[/dice]
3) Victory: You take the Resolute to the site of your greatest triumph. Here it was that you succeeded against all odds. Describe the challenge and how your victory shaped your characters life forever onward. In the next scene, all players receive +1 to a single trait roll during their first action as they are emboldened by triumphant scene. If more than 1 player rolls a 3 each roll adds +1 to that single trait roll.
The city of all cities. Ndreare was always cautious when he came here. The flux of people and ability to go from calm and peace to life without notice made it so he could not relax.
Denied admission to the Universal Academy Ndreare was unwilling to accept he and his brother would spend the rest of their lives as they had already. He was going to find a way, both he and his brother had magical potential and Yohde’s desire to quit and find a life on the streets was unacceptable. But Ndreare always prefered thinking over action.
Making his way to the recruitment station Ndreare was intimidated by all the massive guards. The Kregor wer so large and powerful they did not even need armor.
“What do you want elf?” The voice was speaking in a broken trade tongue.
His determination not to be vagrant or a thief for the rest of his life was enough to keep him motivated to speak up. “I want to sign up, my brother and I want to be soldiers.”
The laughter interrupted his words. The Kregor where uninterested in whatever he had to say. “We do not fight fairies boy. Move along.” But then he heard from behind a response from someone else.
The deep rumbling voice sounded as if the stones in the floor where grinding away. “Send it back, I may need some support personnel.”
The interview that came was difficult mentally and frustrating. When it was done the grumbling older man was doubtful. “Your sharp kid, I can see that. But your arms are too weak and your health would not last even the first day of training.
“Maybe another unit.” His words were meant to be final, but Unable to quit and accept another failed chance to earn an honorable living Ndreare did not stop.
“We have magic. My brother and I both have magic. Don’t the armies need magic?”
The giant recruiter looked. “Maybe show be what magic you know and if I am impressed, I will refer you to an special recruiter.” Only knowing the simplest and smallest of spells Ndreare did the best he could. Little light and minor things, but it was enough that when the special recruiter learned that they had learned the spells on their own he accepted them.
“You will never be front line soldiers. But with your intelligence and his skill with blades you may someday make incredible intelligence assets.”
Stumbling out of the Rifts Ndreare did not know what that was. Something had taken him back, back to his childhood so long ago he had almost forgotten. But that was such as important time in his life, when he and his brother finally had a chance to be more than simply street urchin.
Yohde had gone on to be the most highly skills warrior Ndreare had even know and Ndreare had made it to General. Few could picture those scared adolescents just looking for a safe way to find food as the renowned masters they are now.

Notice 7, Detect Arcana, and Common Knowledge 5
+2 with Sight, Body armor has optics package ignores 2 points of sight penalties.
Notice [dice]1[/dice]
Notice Wild Die [dice]2[/dice]

Detect Arcana at Will (No Roll Required)


Common Knowledge
Smarts [dice]3[/dice]
Smarts Wild Die [dice]4[/dice]
Center 3rd floor
Attachments
china world trade center.jpg
Sir Ndreare (Rob T)
Ndreare
Current Status
Parry: 9
Toughness: 22 (8)
Wounds: 0/3
Fatigue: 0/2
PPE: 27 of 35 base 20 without gear

Gear Charges:
  • Amulet of the Archmage: 0/5
  • Abrandis’ Honorblade PPE: 10/10
  • Night's Kiss PPE: 0/10
  • T.W.-B.A.G.: 5/5
  • Wilk's 237: 16/16 x2
  • Wilks 447: 20/20 x2



Current effects:
  • Armor Features Activated




Bennies: 4 +1 Red Benny (Roll d10 extra effort, or reroll with a d10 wild die)
  • +5 Quarterly Reset + Great Luck.
    +1 Benny for some outstanding RP!
    +1 From GM for Art of Maker.
    -1 For Vigor Roll to Soak critical failure wound.
    +1 Benny for choosing not to use second action after critical failure per Pender in Hangouts.
    -1 Benny, Agility to interrupt Hammers after everyone went on hold for chit chat.
    -2 Interfere with Rifts rerolled twice.




Adventure Cards
Special GM removed, need interlude to obtain
User avatar
Grynn
Diamond Patron
Diamond Patron
Posts: 89
Joined: Tue Dec 12, 2017 10:21 pm

Re: Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Post by Grynn »

Interlude roll
[dice]0[/dice].
3) Victory: You take the Resolute to the site of your greatest triumph. Here it was that you succeeded against all odds. Describe the challenge and how your victory shaped your characters life forever onward. In the next scene, all players receive +1 to a single trait roll during their first action as they are emboldened by triumphant scene. If more than 1 player rolls a 3 each roll adds +1 to that single trait roll.
Notice 4
Notice die [dice]1[/dice], Wild die [dice]2[/dice].
Grynn's mind fractured a bit. The stress of the battle, all while stuck as a cat. The mass of vampires that seemed to never end, and time seemingly stretched out forever. The drama! The emotion! It was a hard-won victory, and all the more sweet for that! But it made him long for a different time, a different victory.

Of family.

He had been only a few days old maybe at most. His father and mother had been trying to teach him, rather than leave him on his own as was the normal way. They wanted something different for him. They had been introducing him to their ways, their beliefs, their morality, but it only been a few days so there hadn't been too much time for too much information just yet.

Friends of theirs, True Atlanteans and others, had showed up requesting aid. A great evil had risen, rifting in to their dimension. A magic-user wielding immense powers and necromancy as well, with an army of living and dead under his banner. He had a mobile, flying base - large than many cities combined! Diplomatic efforts had been made, of course, but not only refused but the envoys sent back in pieces as a response! People were being killed and then drafted in to the army as undead minions. It was terrible!

The little dragon family unit decided to help, and Grynn demanded to go with. His parents hesitated, of course, but gave in as they didn't want to leave him alone, and thought they could protect him. They traveled to confront this necromancer, Gulan Kath. The battle was long and fierce, but the dragons watched out for one another, aided one another, in addition to their friends and allies. It made Grynn's parents a little too distracted and his mother was wounded. His father flew in to a rage and began attacking the flying fortress itself. He damaged the spell-crystals that were used to hold it aloft and move it around, causing it crash to the ground. This allowed more of the good-aligned troops to siege the place more easily. The tide turned slowly and the necromancer was driven back to his home dimension.

Grynn remembered his mother being healed, but weak and wounded for a time. It had been terrifying - the whole ordeal had been! It was his first battle and there had so much going on everywhere he looked. He ended up having to defend himself many times since he was so large, even as a hatchling. And his parents had kept swooping in to save him, whether he needed it or not, staying close by to help protect him. It had felt safer than it should have. It would have been frustrating had he not been so young and inexperienced to be hovered over.


The group got a brief look at the ruins of the downed flying fortress during their 'jaunt', and Grynn smiled slightly in his cat form even as he eyes seemed to get a bit more shiny before he looked away.
WeirdEvilThing.jpg
Last edited by Grynn on Wed Mar 28, 2018 8:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Grynn
Character Summary
Flame Wind Dragon Hatchling
Special: Cursed with Awesome (You can reroll a 1 on the wild die - unless it is a crit fail. Once per session you can declare an awesome moment and before rolling decide to add your wild die to your trait roll); Fear (in dragon form); Flight 12 (in dragon form); Impervious to Fire; Infravision; Size +6 (in dragon form); Slow Regeneration; Spirit rolls (+2)
Active effects:
Parry: 5 ; Toughness (Dragon form): 34(16); Toughness (Human form): 17(8)
Weapons: Claws/Bite, Fire Breath, Powers, Tail Lash
Edges: AB Magic, AB Psionic, Attractive, Metamorphosis, Power Surge

Charisma: 0 (+2 with Dragons)
Bennies: 3 from Blaze of Glory

ISP: 15/15
PPE: 20/30
Powers: Bolt, Boost/Lower Trait, Deflection, Detect/Conceal Arcana, Invisibility, Light/Obscure, Slumber, Smite

Wounds:
Fatigue::

Currently playing in: Vampire Kingdoms
User avatar
Penitent
Posts: 189
Joined: Thu Jun 29, 2017 9:32 pm

Re: WIP Posts

Post by Penitent »

IMG_0427.JPG

You have traveled far, quisling. How does it feel to have reached the abyss?

The words echo in Skayn's head as he trudges across the bridge, the heat from the lava flows below rising up to steal his breath and sear his eyes. Any tears had burned away long ago.

Bone pylons rise on either side of him like the ribs of some demonic worm, the sulfurous fumes caking them in yellow dust etched by acid rain. The city of Charun lies on the other side, 13 Crawling Towers rising in a throng around the tumorous dome of the Unholy's palace. Like a cancer, it grows from the site of the Unholy's first entry to this world, an entry wound in Wormwood's skin that will never heal.

Do you regret coming here? Regret your choice? the voice chortles, delight evident as it probes at the raw edges of Skayn's mind. At the shriveled, blackened vestige of a soul.

Skayn tries hard not to think about it. Not to think about the weight in his hand.

You have been such a delightful servant, Skayn. My one-time hospitaler, filled with such inhospitable anger. Such passion. The templars are so rigid, it takes just a little push to break them. You ... each step, each push, you merely bent, twisting in upon yourself. And now it is done.

Skayne stops on the bridge, images flooding into his mind, too fresh still to call them memories. His wife, standing tall and defiant in the throne room of the Unholy. His daughter, beside her, taking shelter in her mother's shadow, where the danger was all too great. And before him, his wife's lover, whose confidence eroded by the second as he realized he'd been offered up as a sacrifice by their mutual master.

A choice, Skayne. And you never hesitated.

That wasn't true, exactly. There had been a moment when Skayne had looked into his daughter's eyes. Considered taking her hand and walking out of the throne room, out of Charun. He had no doubt the Unholy would kill him soon after, but the offer, to take his daughter and go, was genuine, if brief.

But as he looked at her, sought the eyes of the child for whom he had sacrificed so much, he realized she did not recognize him. The father she had known was dead, buried like a cyst in the scarred flesh in which Skayne now stood.

It felt like a knife cutting out that cyst, letting it go. Letting her go. But the hole was soon filled with fire. Hot, molten hatred, as he turned his gaze to the man who had stolen his daughter, his wife, his life.

I made the choice, he thinks, his eyes straying down to his right hand, clutching the head of his rival as it drips blood onto the steaming surface of the bridge.

Is it as sweet as you imagined? Or does it curdle, like milk left in the sun? the dark voice laughs.

The laughter follows him as he crosses the bridge, the towers of Charun behind him.
IMG_0426.JPG

Notice 10
Penitent has a version of Danger Sense that only works against supernatural beings and demons. If either are present, he is aware and starts the round on Hold (assuming a 10 is good enough for a raise).
Roll
Notice [dice]0[/dice]
Wild Die [dice]1[/dice]
Ace! [dice]2[/dice]
Still unarmed, took 2 Bennies (1 for successes, 1 for pics).
Penitent
Quick Stats
Wormwood Apok
Bennies: 0/3 +1 Red Benny (1d10 for EE or 1d10 Wild Die on a reroll)
Agility d8, Smarts d8, Spirit d8, Strength d10 (1d12), Vigor d10 (1d12) -1 Fatigue
Charisma: -2 (-4); Pace: 8 (d10); Parry: 8 (9); Toughness: 20 (8) or 22 (8) with mask; 32 (18) with greater armor
Hindrances: Heroic, Death Wish, Overconfident, Delusional (Dunscon is the Unholy), Vow (Find daughter)
Notice d8, Intimidation d8+2
Edges and Abilities of Note: Improved Level-Headed (draw 3 initiative cards); Immune to Fear, +4 vs. mind control and possession; Notice roll to detect surprise attack or ambush by supernatural/magic foes; Ambidextrous + Two-Fisted; Gain AP 2 with melee attacks for 1 PPE; Champion
PPE: 4/20 + 10/10 (demon mask) + 10/10 (Karl - ?)
Powers (all Mega): armor with shroud trapping (ranged attacks are -1), auto-raise, cast as free action; blast with flammable and hallowed trapping (counts as cold and silver); fear with hallowed trapping (supernatural and magic are -2 to resist); quickness; smite with hallowed trapping (holy and silver), auto-raise, cast as free action.
Adventure Cards:
Active Effects: quickness with a Raise (Gains an extra round of actions, redraws Initiative of 8 or less), greater armor with a Raise (+10 Armor), and fly(at Pace)
User avatar
Fizzwaite Zipwidget
Diamond Patron
Diamond Patron
Posts: 111
Joined: Fri Aug 18, 2017 8:10 am

Re: Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Post by Fizzwaite Zipwidget »

Notice 7
Notice [dice]0[/dice]
Wild [dice]1[/dice]
Victory
[dice]2[/dice]

3) Victory: You take the Resolute to the site of your greatest triumph. Here it was that you succeeded against all odds. Describe the challenge and how your victory shaped your characters life forever onward. In the next scene, all players receive +1 to a single trait roll during their first action as they are emboldened by triumphant scene. If more than 1 player rolls a 3 each roll adds +1 to that single trait roll.


His forces stood proud and strong and he glared at the forces arrayed against them across the battlefield. The wind whipped the banners and both side tensed to see how the battle would begin. He eyes narrowed as he studied the terrain that separated their forces. Strategies flickered through his mind and he discarded one after the other until decision crystalized in his mind. He order his forces and the battle was joined at last.

Fizzwaite's forces struck quickly and aggressively looking to end the battle as quickly as possible. This strategy nearly ended in disaster as the enemy anticipated the tactic and nearly caught his vangard in a pincer movement that would have destroyed it. He order the infantry forward to keep the trap from closing. He knew they would be destroyed but he could not allow his elite forces to be captured! Disaster was averted but it had cost him and he retreated to a more defensible position while he pondered his next move.

Fortunately it seemed that the enemy thought he had been more successful than he thought or perhaps he wagered that he had broken Fizzwaite's spirit and had him on the run. You got another thing coming you bastard if you think you can take me and my people so easily! "Bring it!" he crowed has he ambushed the pursuing forces and took them out. With both forces having attempted a quick resolution and failed both sides settled into a prolonged slugging match and both waited for the other to make a fatal mistake.

The battle had been engaged for what had seemed like hours. The destruction on both sides had been intense with neither side seeking or offering quarter. Fizzwaite wiped the sweat from his eyes as he waited for the enemy to make his move. Fizzwaite was tired of these games and studied the battlefield looking for a way to end the carnage. I will not let this bastard take me down now, not when I am so close! he thought determinedly to himself.

His eyes focused as he detected movement on the battlefield! In his mind he analyzed the tactics and his eyes narrowed as he sensed the weakness in the enemy's strategy that he could sense but not quite see. Then the situation crystallized and he realized that his opponent had left him an opening! It was a narrow window and it could be yet another trap. But the bastard's forces were as depleted as his was and it was obvious that he had decided the time to take a risk was at hand if he wanted a victorious outcome. Fizzwaite had seen the maneuver develop too early or so it seemed to him. The old man wasn't ready to spring the trap and if Fizzwaite moved boldly he was sure he could turn the tables once and for all.

Fizzwaite quickly issued his orders and his remaining forces slowly began to shift to the left and thereby thin the defenses on the right offering an enticing target. Suddenly he saw the opening. The path to the enemy commander was open! Instantly he gave the signal and his one of his elite commandos raced across the battlefield and tackled the enemy commander, placing a blade to his throat.
The battlefield
wizardchess.png
"CHECKMATE! HA!" Fizzwaite practically screamed as he ripped off the Techno Wizard VR goggles and the animated chessboard faded from view as he pointed gleefully at the old gnome sitting across from his as he removed his own VR goggles and frowned at his grandson. "I got you that time Granddad. You are TOAST! WOO HOO!!!" Fizzwaite began dancing around the room in an impromptu victory dance as his grandfather looked on with resigned patience.

It was at that moment that reality chose to reassert itself and dumped Fizzwaite back into the present in the middle of the New Mexico desert outside El Paso and the real battle was just beginning, again.
Last edited by Fizzwaite Zipwidget on Mon Mar 12, 2018 4:49 pm, edited 1 time in total.
User avatar
Lucianna
Silver Patron
Silver Patron
Posts: 64
Joined: Fri Dec 29, 2017 12:15 am

Re: Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Post by Lucianna »

Interlude - Fear
Interlude
[dice]0[/dice]

Spirit vs. Fear
[dice]4[/dice]

WD Spirit
[dice]5[/dice]

Point of note: the band around her waist is cold iron, her racial weakness, and marked with runes restricting her magic.
Lucianna stood, victorious, over the horde of vampires, and the dissipated body of Soldad, the ancient oppressor. As the ash scatters in the hot wind of the magma hall, a familiar shape is revealed. I have not seen a Scepter of Spellweaving in an age! What is this monster doing with one?! She bends down and picks up the ancient weapon, marveling at the light in the crown. "This is a relic of my people. I can only guess what horrors Soldad committed in order to gain this object. I weep for my friend who carried it. I take solace in having avenged him."

She smiles at several familiar Archon essences and offers greetings in their manner, usually an exchange of magical energy and glowing lights. One in particular hands her a suit of armor. "This was sent for you to help you withstand the difficulties of this world. May your essence strike true, and you return to us with greater knowledge."

As the rift opens and her party steps through, something goes awry, even if only for a moment. She is whisked away to a place of horror for her people; a cold iron prison, maintained by hideous creatures who devour magic. The memory of her time spent during an excursion to free several Archon captives washes over her, and she recoils at the thought.

She and several Archons waged a pitched battle in those halls, and several lesser Archons gave their lives to maintain the power of the elder essences. Lucianna herself was pitted against a cold iron golem. It was all she could do to hold it at bay while the rescue attempt commenced. Her dear friend Varimathras was gravely wounded in the exchange, but a well timed magic missile stunned the creature, giving Varimathras time to escape. She carried her friend to the rendezvous point, and managed to escape before more were lost.

The Archon essences lost that day were costly, and their dying soul screams echoed in her head.
cold iron 1.jpg
cold iron 1.jpg (14.09 KiB) Viewed 7318 times
Notice
Notice
[dice]1[/dice]

WD Notice
[dice]2[/dice]

Ace WD Notice
[dice]3[/dice]

Lucianna has access to LLW-style Expanded Awareness; Detect Arcana at will, no PPE cost, as free action
Last edited by Lucianna on Tue Mar 06, 2018 10:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Lucianna
Lucianna character sheet
Bennies: 2 (+1 quarter bonus, +1 joker, +1 Pender's oops, -4 for rerolling resist slumber. Really. -1 Reroll Spellcasting, -1 reroll spellcasting Kreeghor dramatic task, +1 massive success on task 2, +1 Big Damn Hero, +1 RP and completing the task/saving the world, -1 EE Agility, -1 EE dispel, -1 reroll damage, +2 Jokers)
Wounds / Fatigue: 0 / 0
Active Effects: Greater Boost Trait - Spellcasting (+2 die types, d12+5); Greater Deflection (-6 to hit, additional -1 to hit ranged)
Parry: 5
Toughness: 13 (7) (Combat Mage Armor, Full Environmental Protection)
PPE: 43 / 30
Pace: 6
Edges: Improved Rapid Recharge, Expanded Awareness, Elan, Marksman (spellcasting), Slow Regeneration, Expert (spellcasting); all damage dealing spells are MD, all mega-versions are +5 AP
Adventure Cards: Cutting In Line - Draw 3 initiative cards and keep the highest.
Weapon in hand: Scepter of Spellweaving
Weapon in holster: Shard Pistol, TW Flaming Sword
Edit Signature
User avatar
Vela
Silver Patron
Silver Patron
Posts: 172
Joined: Fri Jun 30, 2017 6:07 am

Re: Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Post by Vela »

In the aftermath of the insanity, Vela found herself pacing, prowling, unable to sit still. She found herself snarling at anyone who strayed close, jumping at any movement. She couldn't calm down. When she closed her eyes, all she could see was red glowing dots in darkness...like eyes, clustered thickly together. There had been so many. So many.

The golden mask stayed clutched in her hands. Putting it down immediately filled her with rising anxiety. It was like a lifeline. Alone in her room Vela huddled in the cloak made from the skin of a dead god, holding the mask, and snapping at shadows. For all the pride of victory, it had brought her no peace. The monsters were inside her now.

The werejaguar held herself back then as she went with the Archons. The Rift set her teeth on edge...even in human guise she growled under her breath. Her fingers tightened around the golden mask, now polished to a much shinier finish. As she came up to the portal she put the mask on...it fit snugly against her face and stuck there as if it was magnetic, though she knew it was easy for her to pull off if she wished.

Then Vela stepped through.

The Holy City

Where Gods Tread
Interlude type: Love
[dice]0[/dice]
Notice: 7 (has danger sense)
[dice]1[/dice] or [dice]2[/dice], Ace [dice]5[/dice]- Has Danger Sense
Fear: 5
Spirit: [dice]3[/dice] or [dice]4[/dice]
Character Cheat Sheet
Vela
Human
Parry:8, Toughness: 15(4)

Jaguar
Parry: 8, Toughness 13

Hybrid
Parry: 8,Toughness 18 (4)
Edges: Frenzy, Improved Frenzy

ISP: 10/10
Detect/Conceal Arcana: +2 Pace on Detect, +1d Stealth on Conceal; 3ISP
Smite: +2 Damage, can give ally opportunity to Unshake
Deflection: -2 to hit ranged and Melee, vampires are at additional -1

Combat Edges:
Danger Sense: Reflexive Notice-2 to detect ambushes or surprise attacks
Fast Healer: +2 Vigor for natural healing checks
User avatar
Krysesia
Silver Patron
Silver Patron
Posts: 110
Joined: Wed Jun 28, 2017 11:36 pm

Re: Part 4.3: Mental Mind Mashup: The Archon Rift

Post by Krysesia »

3, so victory +1 Benny for pic, +1 Benny for keeping limitation

The rough transit through the Rift immediately brings to mind another vivid memory for Krysesia. The others feel a harsh queaziness as they ride along with her in her memory of a rough transit.
  • The rift deposits her a mere five hundred feet from where she just opened the rift moments before. Thankfully that was five hundred feet further from the horde of cybernetic monstrosities on her tail, but that is no solace when you consider how fast they are. "By all the Gods of Light, no! Cover me Ink!"

    "That's what I'm trying to do Krys, but can you keep the turbulence down next time, I already lost my lunch once this trip."

    "It's that device that Oracle has strapped to it. Destroy it!" She herself starts shooting the device and between the two of them they destroy it right the two Runners and their Thinman escorts arrived to do battle with the pair. They'd been on a scouting run, trying to figure out what was going on with the outpost the clan had on this world and dimension. Well they knew now, and they now finally knew why the pyramid had been nonfunctional - the mechanoids had set off a nuke there. Thankfully that hadn't stopped her from getting there, though it did make their retreat all the more important. The clan elders had to know that the Mechanoids had found this world and dimension.

    As they destroy the dimensional jamming device, Krys opens up another Rift, and this time they transit smoothly through one, then to a second, and then a third location before opening the portal to Manoa. One of the three cities widely thought of as the mythical El Dorado. Rifting in at the moment of the setting sun, its easy to see why it's thought of as that. After gazing for a moment at the city her people had built, she strides off to deliver her intelligence.
    eldorado.jpg
As they all arrive after the rough transit, Krys shudders at the memory of the Mechanoids destroying her clan's outpost, but the hell brought upon that mothership as a result of her intelligence, that was a thing of beauty. Destroying a mechanoid mothership is no small feat. But then, neither is opening a rift for an alien battlecruiser and it's heavy particle beam cannon and the 2 mile wide path of destruction it leaves in space. The fighters from that ship then cleaned up the wasps even as Atlantean troops dealt with the remaining mechanoids on the ground. Returning the Super Dimensional Fortress to its home dimension was another task, but not one she'd helped with.

But for Krysesia, her thoughts turn to Serenia, who failed to answer her call. She'd wait a bit more before trying.
Krysesia of Clan Skellian, True Atlantean Shifter
Quick Stats
Pace: 6; Parry: 5; Toughness: 21(10) in armor; Strain: 0
Weapon in hand: Manoan Firebolt Pistol (Ammo: 20/20) or Neptune’s Draining Blade
Bennies, Wounds, and Power Points: Tracked Here
Post Reply

Return to “Chronicles of the Vampire Kingdoms”