The Meeting

[Stoic]

You are each tasked to meet with Elle of Owls in her private office. Please describe your character, feel free to introduce yourselves, etc.

[Bart Willoughby]

A large orc strides boldly through the doors. He is impeccably dressed in fine clothing. Not a speck of dirt can be found on his coat, his shoes are shined to a mirror finish, and a vibro-longsword is sheathed at his side. He nods and smiles, extending a handshake to all who enter. "Bartholomew J. Willoughby, at your service. I am delighted to meet you. It is my understanding that we are to embark on a most auspicious adventure in the very imminent future, though the nature of our expedition is unknown to me. Pray tell, have you any inkling of our destination or objective?" His vocal tone is disturbingly smooth, considering many orcs sound like uncouth, raging brutes. He laughs a little. "Though I have heard it said that the prize is the journey itself, and not the destination, we still must be about the business of the Legion, no?" He stands at ease but with excellent posture, hands clasped behind his back. "Forgive me, my manners! Brutish, I know. You are?"

[Mahala]

“Nor is it known to I.” Came a firm voice from behind the orc, having unassumingly made its way inside as the well dressed gentleman was introducing himself. As the much smaller lithe figure moved to the side behind him, it was revealed that the voice came from a purple skinned horned creature that was nonetheless dressed in a similar theme to Bartholomew, though perhaps somewhat more set for formal business attire rather than black tie gala. Wearing a poets shirt complete with bishop sleeves and black ribbon along with boot cut pleated pants, her attire seemed a bit out of place for one possessing such devilish features. Though those astute enough to recognize the lack of brimstone stench or pungent aura of evil might figure out she was something less infernal and more of a stock d-bee variety that was unfortunate enough to share a similar appearance to such creatures.

“Madam Owls.” The small figure spoke out with a nod of acknowledgement, having met with the Tomorrow Legion Special Ops Coordinator on her arrival a few days prior, though their encounter had been brief as her paperwork had been primarily dealt with by the administration staff. “I take it then that a decision has been made regarding the advisory position as recommended by the lords?” Though even as she spoke the words, her yellow eyes flashed towards the well dressed orc next to her as she clenched the fingers on one hand together a little more tightly. There were few reasons why one would call her into the office at the same time as such an imposing figure, and none of the possibilities that went through her mind seemed over promising. Still, Mahala knew that her task here would not be easy.

[Ahab]

Noisily through the door and accompanied by a rythmic thump come a man who's only possible name could be "Ahab" judging from his face, beard, hat and nautical clothing. In one hand he holds a spear... no, more of a harpoon judging from the wicked barb. There is a power source and activation stud on the harpoon, marking it a some variant of vibro-weapon. "Ahab" appears to use it as something of a walking stick, which explains the rythmic thump each time he takes two steps. He leans himself agaist a support pillar with a low grunt, and eyes each and every one of his fellows in the room, one at a time and with a sharp inhale of breath from only the left nostril as his eyes settle.

Once it becomes obvious introductions are in order at the prompt from Bartholomew, he looks left and right before muttering, "hab."
He then looks around for a moment, then clears his throat and says, more clearly, "hurm... Ahab be I."

He touches his hat to Elle of Owls, mumbling, "maam."

[Stoic]

Elle nods back to @Ahab, smiling politely.
She is a tall slender...woman? With delicate avianesque features. There is a small crop of feathers sticking out of her utilitarian jumpsuit, her big round eyes regard you all curiously. "Thank you all for gathering. Please, have a seat." as you each find one of the hodge podge of chairs, clearly assembled hastily as they do not match in any way, though there is a chair suitable for each of your various sizes, she pulls down a screen from the wall and clicks a button on the remote you now notice in her hand. On the screen appears the head of a robot of unknown origin. Even @Maki_Maverick A robot pilot herself, has never seen such a design.

Another click and you see what appears to be part of a torso from the same robot.

"We've come across this in the field an no one seems to be familiar with it. At first we thought it might be a one off custom experimental design, but after talking to some of the SETs there are several reports of this design being spotted. We don't know who is making them or even where they are from, which is why I have gathered all of you here. Each of you has a skill set that will be useful to help find out more about this. I have a contact, Noldrin Frostforge, a Dwarf that operates out of MercTown who has reportedly engaged in combat with these bots before. I need you to transport the pieces we have to him, and then after that we have a subject matter expert in Ishpeming who has agreed to analyze the parts for us. Report to the motor pool at 0800 tomorrow. Do you have any questions?"

[Maki_Maverick]

Maki is the last through the door, wiping her hands on a great-stained rag. "Present, present!" the young woman says, being new to even the loose organization of the Tomorrow Legion. She's in a pilot suit that looks (and is) cobbled together from several suits of armor, with exotic-looking control panels strapped to both forearms and a laser pistol in a chest holster. "Maki Maverick reporting for duty!" she says belatedly.

She takes a seat as she looks over the assorted and often large other members of the team. "Whoa, hello there, what do we have here?" she asks with great interest as the robot image comes up on the screen.

[Bart Willoughby]

Bart's eyebrows perk up at the purple-skinned woman who clearly shares a similar taste in fine clothing. "Madam! Count this as a profession of admiration for your manner, and your coiffure is quite exotic!" He gestures open-handed towards her horns. "Might I inquire regarding your stylist and how they achieved such an effect? It suits you beautifully!"
As @Ahab enters the room, Bart's manner changes slightly. "Good sir, I salute you. I am Bartholomew J. Willoughby, and I venture to guess you may have a wealth of tales to tell of mighty exploits! I eagerly anticipate such an opportunity as I may hear a few!"
Once Elle of Owls begins her presentation, Bartholomew settles into the meeting, listening intently to the instructions. Muttering to himself "...robots... Frostforge...Ishpeming...I have one. Should we anticipate adversity beyond the normal perils of the wild? Have any nefarious forces set their ill intent on absconding with our cargo? If so, have they knowledge of our party specifically, and what contraband we carry?"

[Ahab]

"A good question Willoughby. Unusual things always be a draw for more unusual things."
Ahab snorts, looks about to spit, but then seems to think better of it, glancing at the surrounds.
"Any one o 'ye know this Frostforge from before, or we goin ta learn 'im when we meet?"

[John Carter]

When John receives the order to meet with Elle of Owls he makes sure he’s promptly in her office at the listed time. He has been anticipating such a summons ever since he had first joined the Tomorrow Legion. He had joined the organization to help him fulfill the mission given to him by the Freedom Defense Force to gather intelligence on Earth. But instead of immediately being sent out into the field as he had hoped, he at first had been assigned to Castle Refuge’s Engineering & Maintenance Department. Since then he had patiently performed the duties assigned to him while the application he submitted to join one of the Legion’s Special Units was reviewed. The summons to report to First Chief’s office could only mean it has finally been approved.

His eagerness to confirm his hopes results in him being the first one there.

Reporting for duty,” he says as he salutes the First Chief and then patiently waits for the others so the meeting could begin. It’s not long before someone he assumes will be one of his teammates arrives. John raises an eyebrow. He looks like an orc straight out of Lord of The Rings (The original Jackson Trilogy, not the 2075 Peyton reboot) but he’s dressed like some sort of gentleman swashbuckler.

"Bartholomew J. Willoughby, at your service. I am delighted to meet you. It is my understanding that we are to embark on a most auspicious adventure in the very imminent future, though the nature of our expedition is unknown to me. Pray tell, have you any inkling of our destination or objective?"

John’s surprised to hear a posh accent that reminds him of King Phillip of Yuro Station’s British Wing come out of the figure’s mouth.

He laughs a little. "Though I have heard it said that the prize is the journey itself, and not the destination, we still must be about the business of the Legion, no?" He stands at ease but with excellent posture, hands clasped behind his back. "Forgive me, my manners! Brutish, I know. You are?"

John not having worn his armor to the meeting, Bartholomew sees a dark haired human male in his early twenties with a lean, athletic build, dressed in a black and grey jumpsuit.

“John Carter,” he replies, managing to stop himself from including his FDF rank. He reminds himself again he’s supposed to be from a small town in Kansas who joined the Legion to see the world. “Nice to meet you. And to answer your question, I’ve got no idea what the mission is yet.”

“Nor is it known to I.”

John sees a purple-skinned alien that looks sort of like a cute demon girl from Pre-Apoclypse anime, in smart business attire.

“Looks like I’m a little underdressed,” John mutters softly to himself. ”Like John McClane at the Nakatomi Christmas party,”

“Madam Owls.” The small figure spoke out with a nod of acknowledgement, having met with the Tomorrow Legion Special Ops Coordinator on her arrival a few days prior, though their encounter had been brief as her paperwork had been primarily dealt with by the administration staff. “I take it then that a decision has been made regarding the advisory position as recommended by the lords?”

John isn’t sure what “lords” she’s referring to but he gets the impression she’s some sort of VIP. Before he could speculate further a grizzled older man dressed in nautical gear comes into the room, using a wicked looking spear as a walking stick.

Once it becomes obvious introductions are in order at the prompt from Bartholomew, he looks left and right before muttering, "hab."
He then looks around for a moment, then clears his throat and says, more clearly, "hurm... Ahab be I."

“Well call me Ishmael,” John quips, having seen several Moby Dick adaptions. He then adds apologetically ‘No, actually don’t. Sorry, that was a joke. Name’s Carter, John Carter.”

He touches his hat to Elle of Owls, mumbling, "maam."

When Elle of Owls asks them all to sit down John quickly complies and listens intently as she begins the briefing, only distracted momentarily when a young pilot rushes into the room introducing herself as Maki Maverick.

Once Elle of Owls begins her presentation, Bartholomew settles into the meeting, listening intently to the instructions. Muttering to himself "...robots... Frostforge...Ishpeming...I have one. Should we anticipate adversity beyond the normal perils of the wild? Have any nefarious forces set their ill intent on absconding with our cargo? If so, have they knowledge of our party specifically, and what contraband we carry?"

“Well, they couldn’t have any knowledge of us specifically considering we’ve only now just been assembled,” John points out.

"A good question Willoughby. Unusual things always be a draw for more unusual things."
Ahab snorts, looks about to spit, but then seems to think better of it, glancing at the surrounds.
"Any one o 'ye know this Frostforge from before, or we goin ta learn 'im when we meet?"

“Never heard of the guy,” John admits. He then looks back to Elle of Owls. “First Chief, are we going to get files on this Frostforge guy and that other expert?

[Mahala]

There was a long pause as Mahala simply stared at Elle, as the plumed woman gave an evasive answer to her question that left it up to her own inference. Even worse still, she had been presented with the image of a robot and told she had a skillset that would be useful regarding it. Even as far as magical golems went, such automations weren’t her area of expertise. In short, she was about as far removed from this subject as could be imagined. So why was it that this was to be her first task?

“Madam Owls, are you certain th–” The magus was cut off from her careful question abruptly as Bart perked up and excitedly introduced himself to her with an unexpected eloquence even after having heard such earlier from him. Her eyes widened at the lavishness and interest in her horns, though it was obvious that he had mistaken them for a creative hairstyle.

It took another moment for her to collect her thoughts, glancing about the room to Maki and Ahab as she studied the other equally as colorful persons. It became clearer to her then, that the qualifications that they all held in common was that they were clearly combat capable, which meant Owls expected a great degree of danger on this trip. “A Vernulian stylist back home pulled off the feathered effect at the nape, one that thankfully lasts longer than most considering the locks do not grow on their own. My kind do not normally possess hair at all, but the magical implantation was… Highly recommended, Mister Willoughby,.” Came a serious yet slightly amused tone as she did her best to feel out the well dressed orc, observing him further as he greets the others and makes polite conversation with them as well. “Is it… Magic that you have dabbled in as well?” Mahala finally asks with a slight tilt of her head, as if wondering where the figure could have come from without being so rude as to directly ask.

Telling that Ahab was clearly the experienced sea dog type, and likely a man of few words, the D’Norr seemed to relax a bit around him. Those types generally wore their hearts on their sleeves, as salted and worn out as they were. If there were to be any problems with him, she expected that he would be straight up and non evasive regarding it and thus reasonable even if others might not think so at first glance. Though they also tended to be very principled types who were unrelenting when it came to those beliefs.

Finally as the only person possibly shorter than herself in the room, Maki seemed also to be straight forward and excitable, and perhaps the one with the most actual expertise in dealing with what they were to face from a knowledge perspective. She would need to be kept alive first and foremost for long term success.

Mahala let out a slow exhale as she closed her eyes in partial frustration with herself, she was already triaging and sorting them when it came to battle positions and they had only just met. It made her mind swim and unable to sit still when she needed to keep her focus on the here and now, choosing to do so by suddenly asking Elle a question about the details.

“What were the circumstances regarding the battles that caused Mister Frostforge to engage these… Things? Did he or they strike first? What was their motivation? Did it seem as though they were after anything or was it a seemingly random act of violence? How much difficulty did he have in disabling it to the point of inoperation? Were there others nearby as the battles occurred?” Came the series of inquiries in rapid succession as she engaged her communicator to start recording the answers that may or may not be provided. “I expect that your contact will be able to provide the most detail, but there may be discrepancies that he will forget due to the passage of time that may have informed you.”

[Bart Willoughby]

@Mahala's explanation of her hairstyle causes a clearly bewildered look to cross his face. "Your kind, madam? I..." He struggles to collect his thoughts, visibly shaking his head as if to jumpstart comprehension. "So...magic, you say? I witnessed quite a magical treat, once. An illusionist caused a coin to emerge from a spectator's ear, though they had never met before. This subtle fellow even managed to produce a rabbit from within his top hat where there had been proven that nothing was there before!" He leans in and whispers (loudly) "I suspect these were feats of sleight of hand, but one must suspend disbelief sometimes to enjoy lighthearted diversions!" He laughs, then resumes his normal volume. "No, madam, I have no gift for such parlor tricks. I find them rather useless when the time comes to...stand and deliver, you might say." With this, he pats at the hilt of the vibrosword on his belt.

[MJH]

A man of average height and build walks into the briefing room. He seems to fidget with his armor and makes a move to push his hair out of face. Close inspection reveals the gesture was just to mask him putting his hands on his face looking almost like he was checking to see if it was still there.

"Hello. My name is Morley. I apologize for being late...shut up! I know!..err..yeah, I am uh well..reporting for duty.."

Before the man has a chance to finish, his seemingly mundane Plastic Man armor melts and shifts into deep purple bio-organic exoskeleton that retracts and expands as if it is made of liquid. The fluorescent lights of the briefing room reflect back an alien green when the shell does manage to solidify in places. All of a sudden a snake-like tentacle with a slavering toothy maw erupts from the chestplate of the armor and writhes with a life of its own.

"Dotes you dolt! Tell them who WE are. We are Talon! Devourer...

"ENOUGH!"

The tentacle retracts and the exoskeleton shifts back into Plastic Man armor.

"Yeah, about that...don't worry. Talon is just excited to meet you all. Nothing to worry about, anyway..uh..nice weather we are having, huh?"

[Ahab]

Before the man has a chance to finish, his seemingly mundane Plastic Man armor melts and shifts into deep purple bio-organic exoskeleton that retracts and expands as if it is made of liquid. The fluorescent lights of the briefing room reflect back an alien green when the shell does manage to solidify in places. All of a sudden a snake-like tentacle with a slavering toothy maw erupts from the chestplate of the armor and writhes with a life of its own.

Ahab has taken a step back and raised his vibro-harpoon over his head, as if to throw it. With a sudden inhale of breath through one nostril he

Notice 1d8: [8] = 8 Wild Die 1d8: [6] = 6 oops that should have been a d6 but doesn't matter since the main die was a raise.
Sense Supernatural Evil: May use Notice to detect the presence and location of supernatural beings or items, and with a raise know if it's evil or not. They can track beings and items using the Survival skill.

and reacts to Morley's sudden transformation. His limbs are tensed and quivering with the trademark tremors of adrenaline.

Atlantean or Greek for not evil

he mutters under his breath as he presses the stud on the harpoon. The gradual run down of a high pitched whine the only indication that the harpoon is no longer powered. As he regains his composure, he raises his voice slightly, grumbling, "non malum."

Ahab now leans upon his harpoon lazily, once again using it like a walking stick, but the muscle twitches in his arms betray the come-down of the flight or fight reflex.

[Bart Willoughby]

Bart takes a half-jump step back as the tentacle bursts forth from Morley's chest. As soon as it returns to its dwelling place, Bart relaxes slightly, though his hand still rests on the hilt of his sword. "Good sir, I daresay that one should not permit their pet cobra to accompany them to such a formal engagement...even if it is well and truly domesticated." His eyebrow arches slightly. "And can one ever truly domesticate such a creature?" Nodding slightly but never taking his eyes off of Morley, he offers greeting. "I am Bartholomew Willoughby, at your service, sir. For the reassurance of the fairer sex -" he gestures towards @Mahala "- may I encourage you to better secure your serpent in the future?"

[Mahala]

“Mahala of Dweomer.” Came the reply to the orc as if just realising now that she hadn’t yet introduced herself to the others. Seeming to have stunned Elle with her barrage of questions as the woman across from them seemed to be mentally working at processing an appropriate set of responses. Though the follow up to the polite conversation is interrupted somewhat by the introduction of Morley and the inadvertent scene he had created.

Resting a hand on her hip, Mahala pursed her lips and observed the strange parasite that had introduced itself at the same time as the newcomer. Seeming to carry that same impassive expression on her face as Ahab and Bart made their comments on the odd situation. A moment later, her husky voice would then be heard with its own small quip.

“I’ve seen bigger.” Came a somewhat dismissive form of judgement when addressing Barts concerns over the D’Norrs delicate sensibilities. Though perhaps her choice of words could have been better given the situation. “I trust that your… Situation… Is relatively under control, else I am certain you would not be called here for this task, correct?” Came her follow up inquiry to Morley. “At the very least, Ahab seems to have given you a pass, as far as I can tell anyway.”

[Morley Dotes]

Morley gives a nervous chuckle, he is clearly relieved that the situation did not escalate.

"Talyn knows his place. Just excited to meet new people and all. Nothing to worry about..well...'cept his eating habits. That takes a bit getting used to."

[Turbo]

A tall man walks in, wearing a leather jacket that almost conceals the system of pumps and tubes that feed his juicer system. He leisurely walks over to a chair and takes a seat with his legs spread wide apart. His elbows rest on his knees, giving him an exaggerated forward lean. The gray hairs and wrinkles around his eyes aren't the only clue that this may be the oldest juicer you have ever seen.

His eyes move from face to face as each person in the room talks, though his expression does not change to give any sign that he cares much about the content of the conversation. Occasionally, a grunt or murmur seems to escape his lips.

This continues until the tentacle emerges from Morley’s chest and speaks . In a flash, this man switches from casual observer to a combat ready machine. He jumps to his feet as one hand reaches for his sidearm. The move sends his chair over backwards with a crash. His eyes dilate as he re-assesses the room and his companions.

Based on the reactions of everyone around, he realizes that the creature is not an imminent threat. While his face calms somewhat, he does not sit back down. Instead he moves cautiously to the side of the room opposite the door and leans against it.

“Right. My name, or rather my callsign, is Turbo. If you hadn’t guessed, I’m a juicer. My training is mostly in driving. I’m guessing this job isn’t local?” he says, turning to Elle of Owls at the end.

[John Carter]

John can’t help but be confused when Bartholomew seems skeptical about magic when talking to Mahala. The guy’s an orc, for crying out loud. You’d think if anyone would be familiar with magic it would be some guy straight out of a fantasy movie. John had only been on the planet a short time and even he knew magic is actually a thing and not just mislabeled psionics or superhuman powers. Between his disbelief in magic and his choice of attire, John has to conclude something strange is going on with the orc.

John’s attention is drawn from Willoughby’s weirdness by new arrivals. The first is a guy who has tech visible underneath his jacket that he recognizes as part of a Juicer’s rig. Back in orbit they and Crazies are mostly a Yuro Station thing, but John has been in enough joint operations with European Conglomerate forces to recognize their super soldiers. The tech downside is slightly less advanced than home but he could still identify it on sight. The guy using it is definitely older than the average Juicer he’s met but maybe things are different on Earth.

The second arrival, who introduces himself as Morley, seems normal. That is until his armor suddenly morphs into some sort of creature that looks inspired by Giger. It takes all of John’s self control to keep himself from reflexively going intangible and revealing to his new colleagues his status as a mutant. From what he’s managed to pick up so far since his arrival, while psionics is relatively common, other superhuman powers are apparently non-existent in the human population. Or at the least very, very rare. He definitely hasn’t heard of any, which is why he had been keeping his own abilities as a Phantom under wraps.

After Arab apparently clears hm as a threat and the others agree with his assessment, John relaxes a little. He doesn’t entirely let his guard down but he’s no longer on edge at least.

Morley gives a nervous chuckle, he is clearly relieved that the situation did not escalate.

"Talyn knows his place. Just excited to meet new people and all. Nothing to worry about..well...'cept his eating habits. That takes a bit getting used to."

“Just what exactly does he eat? John asks with bemused curiosity. “And how much does he need?”

The other arrival, the Juicer, also seems to relax once the situation with Morley’s pet(?).calms down. Even deigns to actually introduce himself.

“Right. My name, or rather my callsign, is Turbo. If you hadn’t guessed, I’m a juicer. My training is mostly in driving. I’m guessing this job isn’t local?” he says, turning to Elle of Owls at the end.

“Nice to meet you, Turbo. Name’s John. John Carter. I’m good at fixing things. And unfixing things. Also not bad at avoiding being noticed when necessary.”

[Bart Willoughby]

Bartholomew smiles knowingly at @John Carter. "Ah, subterfuge and skulduggery, when artfully applied swashbuckling and gunnery are the lesser-favored paths. I, too, have some gift with the craft, though mayhap your own skills outstrip my own. Something in my blood yearns for direct action, but one must rely on one's wits to ascertain when to apply cunning and when to apply the cudgel." He takes a massive, deep breath, then exhales slowly. "To action soon, then, shall we?"

[Stoic]

@Bart Willoughby

Elle blinks her big yellow eyes as it takes her a few seconds to parse what the Orc is saying.

"No more than usual, I would say. But to be fair we know nothing about this bot in question, so we really can't give an accurate threat assessment."

Elle nods to @John Carter "Yes, we will distribute a dossier on him. It will be ready for you tomorrow at the Motor Pool."

@Mahala

"Mr. Frostforge reportedly was attacked by these bots. His skill and experience are the only reason he is still around, to hear him tell it. We only know that he was attacked, and really don't know much of the details. Which is where you all come in."

@Turbo "It is not local. We trust your skills at driving will come in handy, particularly if your SET happens to come into contact with these bots.

She looks at her watch, and her face scrunches up a bit. "We are still waiting for another to join us. Perhaps his little lets are making the journey particularly time consuming." She waits a few minutes more. "If he shows up, I will give him instructions. Meet up at the Motor Pool at 0800. I will have the Head loaded into a Mountaineer that you will use for your trip. Do be prompt."

Your group disperses to their respective living quarters. Feel free to describe what if anything you are doing to prepare for your journey. For a Benny describe a previous dangerous journey your character has taken.

[Ahab]

Ahab can be seen drawing smoke from a meerschaum pipe with a fearsome cuttlefish like visage carved into it as he paces the halls of Refuge. His mutterings form a somewhat cohesive tale if one listens to him long enough.

"A sea voyage. A kraken like visage on the horizon. Always on the horizon it be. I hates it and it hates me!"

Languages seem to come and go.

"Lejos del mar de los demonios"

Far across the demon sea

"Tua icones nullum auxilium erit"

Your icons no help will be

"Tiefer, tiefer, die Tiefen, die sie euch ziehen"

Down, down, the depths they draw ye

We're getting metaphysical now!

"Lonkeroita lämmössäsi ne ovat"

Tentacles in your heat they be

"Tangle me down a' 'he bo''om ov 'he sea"

Tangle me down at the bottom of the sea

Is this a story or a poem?

"\r\n"

End of Line

His survival pack is of modern materials, but appears to have a wax coating on it, applied, perhaps not expertly, by Ahab himself. He finishes tying it in a tight bundle before turning in for the night.

[Stoic]

You arrive at the motor pool the next morning. Your Mountaineer is ready, freshly charged up (it has an electrical system) and cleaned out, more or less. The Sgt in charge of the motor pool gives you a bit of a lecture about bringing it back in one piece, cleaning up after yourself, etc. but you can tell he has been disappointed in this regard many times before by his tone of voice. Nonetheless he hands you the key fob, trusting that you will bring it back, at the very least.

Your E-Clips are freshly charged and you have enough rations to last you two weeks.

(We will be using the Journey rules from the Tomorrow Legion Field Guide. Your vehicles can travel 18/miles for every 6 hours of travel. Mertcown is roughly 326 miles away, requiring about 108 hours of travel. Please determine how much you would like to push this trip (ie how many hours a day do you decide to travel) then we will get some rolls going. Please let me know if you have any last minute equipment type requests before you depart.)

[Turbo]

"I didn't get juiced because I want to sit around. I say we get moving and push to be there in 10 days. Double time, 12 hour days."

Turbo seems to think that is a sufficient argument, and doesn't wait around for a reply. He walks over to his Tarantula bike and starts running a hand over different parts of the bike. First the frame, then the handlebars. Next the brakes and suspension. His eyes follow his hand as he inspects every key system.

After a few short minutes of inspection, he seems satisfied. He pulls his helmet on as he simultaneously steps across the bike and takes his seat.

"You guys ready?"

[Bart Willoughby]

Bart nods at @Turbo. Even though he didn't wait for an answer, Bart offers one anyway. "Ah, a man of action! I concur with your astute assessment. Alacrity is of prime concern in such an undertaking. Indeed, let us set about to make all haste in our conduct towards our objective; may fortune favor our boldness!" While perusing the equipment loadouts, he requests sufficient trapping equipment to facilitate finding and processing food in the wild. "Despite our highest aspirations, should we encounter travail and delay, it would behoove us to have alternate means of securing sustenance for our journey."

[Mahala]

Mahala had returned to her quarters after meeting up with the... Interesting set of people she was set to be travelling with and took a moment to pause as she considered each one and the unique talents they might bring to the table, despite the odd mannerisms and in some cases odd company they kept. She was well aware that the more capable members of the Tomorrow Legion were notoriously known for how unhinged they were, enough so that there seemed to be an inverse causal relationship where the more normal a person was, the less capable they seemed to be. The lowest of stable minded grunts was what one would typically describe as a stock human who was moderately trained with a rifle, with a healthy respect for their own survival. Conversely, it was likely that those who had been hand selected by Owls for this mission would be a handful to manage.

So what does that say about myself? Mahala thought to herself as she retrieved her personal effects, changing out of her prim and proper clothing to instead slip into the combat mage armour that presented a stark chitinlike appearance representative of the high lords of Dwemer. Giving the tightly gloved fingers on her hand a clench as she made a fist as If to test out its protectiveness. Why had they selected her for this mission anyway? Her speciality was magic, and she had come here to provide council on such matters. What possible help could she be against hostile robots?

It hadn't eluded her that this was either a test of sorts or opportunity to get her out of their hair without risking offence to the Lords of Dwemer by simply turning her away. Regardless, she would humour their request for the time being at least, if only to get a feel for the sort of missions this strange organisation valued. As the armoured hood of the mystical armour was secured in place, Mahala reached for perhaps the most important object that she carried. A smooth ball made from a smokey quartz-like material rested within a purple velvet bag, which itself was embossed with golden thread lettering. The case itself preserved from ancient times and used exclusively to hold magic items such as those inside. The lettering origin a mystery with the words displaying the odd stitching which only said "Crown Royal" upon it. The prevailing theory being that it originated from a foreign kingdom of some sort that had long since crumbled to nought but shadows and ash over the ages of time. It wasn’t likely that the Legion knew that she carried such a valuable item, but perhaps because of it she would prove to be more useful than expected after all.

Finally she made her way to the arms depot to see if anyone would be interested in purchasing the excess magical staff she had brought with her. The item was a rarity however, and only of interest to a certain type of individual to begin with. While such items were not expressly forbidden by the Tomorrow Legion, they were not used frequently enough to make it easy to offload. After spending the next while asking around to several people, she was eventually able to locate a fellow mage who had in need of one after his previous staff had been destroyed by targeted rocket fire. Still, she

Raise
Persuasion 1d8!-2: [8!, 8!, 3]-2 = 17
Wild Die 1d6!-2: [3]-2 = 1

without a second thought and pocketed the excess credits, unheeding the ominous portent such a lesson entailed.

---

---

0800 hours, at the motor pool...

“This would allow us to save time and resources if we were to push at such a speed. However, we would need to keep in mind that this will put extra stress on our respective vehicles as well.” Mahala would say through her mask as she rested a hand on her hip and looked over Turbo and Bart as the two action oriented figures suggested going as fast as possible as one might expect. “Looking over your dossiers, I have noted that a couple of you are proficient with vehicle repair and servicing. Taking into account the possibility of a vehicle failure and those subsequent required repairs, I consider these acceptable risks, but only provided we are able to procure spare parts in advance for this eventuality.”

Pursing her lips for a moment, Mahala turns to look towards the Sgt in charge of the motor pool who was watching the discussion. “I trust this will not be an issue Sargent? I will speak with madam Owls if you are not authorised to give us a collection of parts for required maintenance. I understand you would like to have it returned to you in the condition we received it and not left stalled in the middle of nowhere for a recovery team to obtain once the scavengers have had their way with it.” The D’Norr asked, laying thickly on the mans unspoken desire to just once have his charges back in working order.

[Ahab]

Ahab stands up from behind the pallete of rations he has apparently been inspecting, "Not evil, should last a while!"
Then he fishes around inside his coat, producing a set of dented, ornately decorated with brass and weathered copper, binoculars. There are buttons but none of the signature jewels of a techo-wizard product.

"Haste do be important fer to travel, no objections have I, yet I be volunteer ta climb thee mizzen and be thee nested crow. I not be a pilot fer one such as theese..." gesturing to the three-wheeled vehicle as he trails off. His other hand waggles the IR binoculars for emphasis.

[Stoic]

The mechanic thinks for a few, then nods his head. "We can spare some parts. Any of you know how to use them?"

[Morley Dotes]

At Bart's mention of sustenance, there is a subtle growl that emanates from Morley. Morley grimaces slightly before turning to the mechanic,

I don't claim to be an expert in anything, but I should be able figure out how most things go together and lend a hand as needed. Should be able to drive this thing, too, no problem.

[John Carter]

Your group disperses to their respective living quarters. Feel free to describe what if anything you are doing to prepare for your journey. For a Benny describe a previous dangerous journey your character has taken.

Now that he was officially in OWLS and assigned a mission, John figures the next thing to do is stop by the Quartermaster and see if he could requisition some gear and supplies. He knew the Tomorrow Legion is stretched a little thin when it came to resources but he figures they might be able to grant at least some of his requests considering the importance of his assignment.

“Carter, James Carter, he says jovially in what's supposed to be a classy English accent to the clerk on duty. He then continues in his normal voice. “Got a big mission coming up and I’d like to requisition a few things. Some grenades, an extra e-clip or two, maybe some plastique if you’ve got some. Just give me whatever forms are necessary to fill out, please."

Persuasion Roll 1d4!: [1] = 1
Persuasion Wild Die Roll 1d6!: [2] = 2
Looks like I'm not getting anything extra.

John takes any forms he's given and meticulously fills them out, hoping he'll get something. So far he's had to rely on his own gear and supplies since he crashed on Earth and he's running low. Only six grenades and two pounds of plastique left. Considering the potential opposition that they might face, as well as the everyday hazards of the post-apocalyptic wilderness, that might not be enough.

The journey from his crash site in Kanas to Castle Refuge had eaten up a lot of his munitions. He had joined a refugee caravan while on the road since they were headed in the same direction, as well as for safety in numbers, and thus was called in to pitch in to help defend it against the many hazards it encountered. Bandits, carnivorous dinosaurs and other large predators, Simvan raiders and other attackers that could use a good blowing up, which he was happy to provide. Thanks to his help they managed to get to Refuge safely with few casualties, but it left him not much left in the "boom" department.

The next morning John is one of the first at the motor pool, double checking all their Mountaineer's systems to make sure they won't have any unexpected trouble with them. Unlike at the meeting he's in his armor, which doesn't look like any model that his teammates might be familiar with. The stealth mode is currently deactivated, so it's just a boring light gray color-wise.

"I didn't get juiced because I want to sit around. I say we get moving and push to be there in 10 days. Double time, 12 hour days."

Bart nods at @Turbo. Even though he didn't wait for an answer, Bart offers one anyway. "Ah, a man of action! I concur with your astute assessment. Alacrity is of prime concern in such an undertaking. Indeed, let us set about to make all haste in our conduct towards our objective; may fortune favor our boldness!"

"I don't have any objection to that," John says. But we should probably see what the boss lady says. There's a chain of command for a reason."

“This would allow us to save time and resources if we were to push at such a speed. However, we would need to keep in mind that this will put extra stress on our respective vehicles as well.” Mahala would say through her mask as she rested a hand on her hip and looked over Turbo and Bart as the two action oriented figures suggested going as fast as possible as one might expect. “Looking over your dossiers, I have noted that a couple of you are proficient with vehicle repair and servicing. Taking into account the possibility of a vehicle failure and those subsequent required repairs, I consider these acceptable risks, but only provided we are able to procure spare parts in advance for this eventuality.”

The mechanic thinks for a few, then nods his head. "We can spare some parts. Any of you know how to use them?"

"Dude, you just watched me give a professional level inspection of all the vehicle's systems earlier," John says indignantly. "If that wasn't enough for you, look up my record working for Engineering and Maintenance. John Carter. You'll find my performance evaluations are exemplary."

While perusing the equipment loadouts, he requests sufficient trapping equipment to facilitate finding and processing food in the wild. "Despite our highest aspirations, should we encounter travail and delay, it would behoove us to have alternate means of securing sustenance for our journey."

"I know a thing or two about operating in the wilderness," John says. If it comes down to it, I can help hunt for food."

Thanks to his time on Mars John had a lot of experience sneaking up on unsuspecting quarry in the jungle and killing it. Animals should be even easier than Arkhon patrols since they probably couldn't shoot back or call in air support.

At Bart's mention of sustenance, there is a subtle growl that emanates from Morley. Morley grimaces slightly before turning to the mechanic,

I don't claim to be an expert in anything, but I should be able figure out how most things go together and lend a hand as needed. Should be able to drive this thing, too, no problem.

"I know the basics of driving too," John volunteers. "We should probably rotate drivers every few hours to keep everyone fresh and alert on the road."

"You guys ready?"

"Ready as I'll every be," John replies.

[Big Joe]

As the team gets ready to depart, a ll massive competent looking linnsrial Sgt, his wings tucked down comes up to the vehicle. When he gets closer you can see someone being almost stashed behind him. "This rat was caught trying to get into Elle of Owls office last night. After spending the night in the brig, she says he was supposed to be with you this morning."

The small humanoid behind him interrupts. "I told you, I was told to show up as soon as I woke. I didn't know she would still be sleeping."

The guard glasses a moment. " Either way, he is your problem now. Maybe you can teach him how to think before acting by the time you return." The words more a statement than a question.

---

Big Joe watches the Sgt as he leaves, before forming back to the group. "Oh, sorry I missed the briefing. So we are in a top secret mission huh. Well, Elle told me to keep yall alive and I am about the best their is at staying alive."

The young man continues rattling on as he describes his last mission. So there I was surrounded by the Coalition, when the most beautiful woman in the entire compound noticed me. From then in, she knew who could protect her." He rambles on. Obviously making it up, as three man may be good looking, but at under 5'tall few tall perfect beauties would be attracted to him.
"There was five SAMAS, but after they ran out of missiles and rail gun ammo they were pretty much defenseless. You see, she was their board daughter. They wanted to kiss nap her and take her back. But she knew I could keep her safe." His tall tail continued to grow as he described his small team taking out ten times their number is a CS force while a compound exploded around them with him in it, using his body to protect the woman.

It seemed the man was unphased by any attempts to dispel his story, sensitive only to comments about his size. Though, the fiery aura that sprouted fourth without warning at mention of his height did seem alarming.

As the team starts discussing, who should drive joe points out that he's an amazing driver and often recognized as one of the best an ace if he does say so himself. But from the way he looks over the vehicle it seems obvious to most he is not a skilled driver.

[Ahab]

The young man continues rattling on as he describes his last mission. So there I was surrounded by the Coalition, when the most beautiful woman in the entire compound noticed me. From then in, she knew who could protect her..."

...As the team starts discussing, who should drive joe points out that he's an amazing driver and often recognized as one of the best an ace if he does say so himself. But from the way he looks over the vehicle it seems obvious to most he is not a skilled driver.

Ahab approaches Joe, stroking his beard for a moment as if considering the timing of Joe's aura. At an appropriate moment, he slaps Joe on the back, sniffs a short inhale, and says, "That do be a fine story lad. We best be gettin' under way 'afore the sun she sets." He clicks his pipe back into his teeth and saunters to the vehicle.

[Mahala]

There was a somewhat stunned narrowing of her eyes in disbelief at the story Big Joe told. Less so about the fantastical details of the adventure, but the mild shock that Mahala experienced over the very idea that someone would choose to tell such in the first place. Her mind spun with the various possibilities as to what sort of motivations a person would have for doing so, until that is when she would see that he was somewhat sensitive to the subject of his height in particular.

Letting out a small exasperated sigh as it all came together for her, the horned mage looked up (very slightly) at the figure ahead of her and looked at him sternly but reassuringly in the eyes. “Mister Joe, your dossier speaks for itself and needs no embellishment. I am quite certain that you are a capable figure, and we will all be much safer for having your presence on this mission.” Then with a pursing of her lips, she adds. “Given your… Capabilities, I would like you to be on alert and ready to deploy for combat at any given notice. As the rest of us are not as capable at this task, I recommend that you leave the driving to us, so as not sway you from where your full focus is needed.” Came a diplomatic assurance in a businesslike tone of voice, before she turned to check on the rest of the parts that were being loaded up onto the vehicle. Taking an accounting of how many they received.

The D’Norr would then add idly without turning her back to look at him. “I for one appreciate not having to hurt my neck looking upwards at you as we speak. It becomes… Tiresome after a time having to do so with everyone else.” Came an attempt at being sympathetic over that particular sensitive issue, as the lord magus was somewhat diminutive herself, though seemed only to dislike such for practical reasons.

[Big Joe]

Picking up on the idea the others do not belive him Joe says. "Hey, you can check. Captain Pender has all the records and that weird guy with the drones kept recording everything. Heck, I am pretty sure I am in those videos."

[Stoic]

The clerk listens to @John Carter 's request and with a bored expression denies it.
After the group arrives and the mechanic gives them the extra parts they are on their way, in a Robot and a Mountaineer.

Instructions

Please say who is in and also who is driving the Mountaineer then make the following rolls:

Is anyone else in the robot?

(See page 17 of the Tomorrow Legion Field Manual)

Navigator: Roll Survival.

Lookout: Roll Notice

Pilot: Roll driving

Scout (Optional) Roll Stealth
After these.rolls are made.in this order (figure it out in discord) we will proceed from there.

[Big Joe]

Joe offers to help lookout for trouble. "I ain't got the best eyes, but they ain't too bad either." he offers. Let me ride on your shoulder up there. Then I can get a real good view, and plink stuff if I see a opossum or something else to eat.

Notice 9

If Allowed riding on the out side of one of the vehicles.

Notice 1d6!! or Wild 1d6!! with a +4 bonus to highest.: [1]+[3] = 4
Benny Notice 1d6!! or Wild 1d6!! with a +4 bonus to highest: [5]+[5] = 10

[Bart Willoughby]

Bart pulls the compass from his pack. "I have a fair bit of the craft of trailblazing in my history. If it would please my stalwart compatriots, I would be honored to lend such efforts as I may muster to the guidance of our jolly quest." Though he is gifted with eloquence, the gift of a sense of direction

Navigation - Survival: 1d6!!+1: [1]+1 = 2
WD Survival: 1d6!!+1: [1]+1 = 2

. The worst part, though, is that he is convincing in his conviction that he is leading them on the absolute most efficient path towards their destination. "Over that hillock should be the mighty river we must ford." The "mighty river" is barely a creek and is definitely in the wrong direction.

[Morley Dotes]

Morley does his best to be comfortable as the Mountaineer bumps along. Eventually he begins to fidget in his seat. Talyn was getting restless.

As Bart gives directions, the writhing in Morley's gut becomes unbearable. Talyn would need to be let out soon.

"Over that hillock should be the mighty river we must for..

"That sounds great, Bart. I think I will go scout it out."

Tentacles writhe from Dotes' body allowing him to effortlessly

wall walker on armor and Free Runner Edge

out of of the Mountaineer and onto the ground. The vagabond soon

1d6!!: [3] = 3 1d6!!: [1] = 1 Benny 1d6!!: [5] = 5 1d6!!: [4] = 4 +2 Elan = 7

into the underbrush and scree of the terrain.

[Turbo]

"The trail is the best place to be, don't you think?" Turbo shouted over the sound of the vehicles as he rode alongside the Mountaineer. It had been weeks since he had gone far outside Castle Refuge, due to the orientation and training.

Turbo did truly look happy as he confidently surveyed the surroundings as they crested each hill, and navigated each turn. It kept him at ease knowing that each member of the team had their role and was performing it to the best of their ability.

And he seemed at home, casually

Driving 1d10!: [4] = 4
Wild 1d6!: [4] = 4

his Tarantula, even over rough terrain.