00 In times gone by

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00 In times gone by

Post by RFT » Tue Jul 03, 2018 12:04 pm

On your way to the place Michael told you about your character has a moment to think and clear his head.

Player Instructions: Time to write an interlude with a catch. Include the following elements in your interlude and you will be awarded +1 XP and the player may start with a Golden Benny.
  1. Why does your character want to undermine or destroy the Ba’al
  2. How did your character meat Michael? (Michael is a very old sorcerer nightbane, from what limited information you have he spends most of his time organizing others for the resistance. Though he is not physically powerful.)
  3. 3 or more paragraphs
  4. Completed before July 13th when the adventure begins.
This post will count towards post rate in addition to those made in The Place Between.
Shaping Worlds Together
The 99's Game Master Bennies 10
  • +8 Players
    +2 Sidekicks
Nash bennies 3
  • None Spent
12 bennies 3
  • None Spent
13 bennies 3
  • None Spent

Jane Toppan bennies 1
  • -1 to extra Effort on Ace of Spades versus interrupt

Shaintar Game Master Bennies 8
  • +8 Players

Nightbane Game Master Bennies 6
  • +6 Players

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Re: 00 In times gone by

Post by Signal » Sun Jul 08, 2018 9:57 am

For context on Manny’s interlude, see his backstory here.

Manny had been running with the Underground Railroad for the better part of a month when he met Michael for the first time. He and a small team of other Nightbane, all older than Manny but none older than their early twenties, had gotten wind of a new Nightbane in the area and were trying to track her down before the hounds could find her. Michael got there first and was halfway through his pitch about the Resistance when Manny’s team showed up.

Michael didn’t seem particularly remarkable to Manny, but the other guys on his team definitely showed Michael a degree of deference (with a little bit of hostility mixed in). Most of what Michael said sounded similar to what the Railroad was doing: finding new Nightbane and getting them off the streets before the servants of ba’al could show up. But there was an edge to how the Resistance operated that the Underground Railroad just didn’t have.

Michael wanted to organize. Heck, by showing up first he’d already shown that they were organized. He talked about actively fighting back against the bad guys, and Manny had one bad guy in particular in mind.

He pulled Michael aside and asked, bluntly, ”If I were to join you, switch factions, could you help me with something I need to do?”

Manny’s request raised an eyebrow with Michael, but the two spoke for a bit and Manny got the whole story out: his adoptive father was gone, and he suspected this Habrand of having a hand in it. As for the minions of ba’al, Manny was perfectly content to keep on hiding from them forever, but he brokered a deal with Michael instead: Manny would help the Resistance in its cause if the Resistance would help him with his. Unbeknownst to Manny, his cause and that of the Resistance are not so different as he thinks...

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Re: 00 In times gone by

Post by Raphael » Wed Jul 11, 2018 8:08 pm

On the way to the safehouse, Raphael thinks of Michael. Michael. He met Michael... a while ago. Raphael pictures it clearly in his mind. He was being chased down by a pack of hounds when several Nightbane suddenly appeared saving him in the nick of time. When asked how they knew to be there at that time, they said that Michael told them. Michael knows things. Where Raphael gets flashes and strange compulsions to show up places, Michael actually has a purpose and thought behind his bits of wisdom. He's a planner, an organizer, he gets things done. There's a lot of things to like about Michael, but What Raphael likes most about Michael is his tireless dedication stopping the Ba'al. Raphael hates the Ba'al, they are the embodiment of everything he hates in the world and will do anything it takes to destroy them. He hopes that this new group being put together will ultimately have a part in destroying them for good.
Raphael, Guardian http://savagerifts.com/sr/viewtopic.php?f=166&t=2711
Pace: 6; Parry: 5 Toughness: 5
Combat-Relevant Edges & Abilities:
Champion, Danger Sense
Bennies: 4/3; Golden Benny: 1/1 Blue/Rambo Benny 1/1

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Jack Tillmun
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Re: 00 In times gone by

Post by Jack Tillmun » Thu Jul 12, 2018 6:07 pm

It was just your average night of wandering through the city of Seattle, as Jack often did. Taking side alleys and backroads wearing dark jeans and a zipped-up pitch black hoodie, this was what Jack did best nowadays. About the only thing that could be seen in that darkness was his face, which didn’t say much since the hood was up. Muttering to himself about various theories regarding his current “ZEUS” problem. Jack had made a habit of patrolling the city in search of fellow test subjects of its many branches, to either question them about it should they be coherent and nonviolent or put an end to their suffering should they attack him on sight or be feasting upon the innocent.
This patrol had been going well, until he spotted a human in a dead sprint out of an alley about 50 feet in front of him and into the empty street. Before he could make any sort of response a pair of hideous looking abominations sprinted out after them. Immediately Jack knew that the time for action had arrived, and thus looked around for a closer alley to cover his change into BiOden. As his skin, muscle, and bone decomposed into shells after shells of armor he could hear the human’s desperate screams for help and the sound of bones crunching (though that might have just been him). As his transformation completed he shifted the biomatter in his arm to form his personal go to weapon: his Claws.

Sprinting up the wall and around the corner leading to the street, leaving holes in his wake, he attempted to pin point exactly where the slaughter had traveled to. Once the pair of creatures were found, distracted with eating what used to be a fleeing human, he judged the distance from his current position standing near the top of the building. Luckily, if his quick calculations were correct, if he launched from here he could make it to them and their bodies would break the fall. Knowing that a different weapon would suit him best for this attack, he reconfigures his claws into a long thin blade on his right arm that the reaches from his fingertips to just behind his elbow.
Leaping from the wall with all of his strength, thus denting the building and drawing the attention of the creatures, Jack braces his other arm against the first one. His trajectory proved slightly off but the targets didn’t know that, so when they broke away in opposite directions the one on the left walked directly into his landing zone. By this point in his leap he was going all most straight down, leading to him plunging his entire arm directly through the recipient’s head. By the time his momentum stopped the monster was bisected, and its partner was not pleased in the slightest.
As Jack flipped around to plant his feet on the ground, he realized one fault in this genius plan of his. He couldn’t pry his arm out from the massive cut in time to defend against the second creature. This was made especially clear as an error when the monster swooped in and lopped his offending right arm clean off just above his elbow. Just then a squad of what could only be Nightbane charged onto the scene and swiftly eliminated the remaining creature.

“Well, being on the other side of a rescue is a new one for me. I also haven’t stuck around for the thanking portion for one of these, so anyone know the procedure?” Jack’s witty comment penetrated the silent air surrounding the standing combatents, followed by a few chuckles from an unknown source behind me. Out of the shadows stepped a figure who introduced himself as Michael, saying that he had been watching me for a couple weeks. He complemented my work saving the handful civilians I have run into and extended his right hand for a shake, which I responded to by waving my stump at him. While he was silent for a small while in answer to my lightheartedness, I quickly ejected a Tendril into the body of the nearby monster and broke it down into its material components. I consumed the natural biomatter and left the rest on the ground where it used to lay. Flexing my new and improved right arm, I turn to this “Michael” and ask the first thing I could think of off the top of my head. “So what’s with you guys? Some sort of Nightbane Super Squad?”

After that incident Jack was informed about the Ba’al and their policy with the Nightbane, he didn’t recognize the creatures they were describing but he knew about the policy. These Ba’al, were agents of the secret Government Experiment known as Zeus. Obviously, they were the original recreations of the first aliens which preceded the start ups of the other projects based in Human experimentation. Now that these “Ba’al” had fully matured, they are harvesting the fruits of labor in their more recent experiments designing the Nightbane.

While Jack was trepidatious about joining an organized force like Michael’s Resistance, he was willing to hear out his “sales pitch”. The Resistance was founded to protect the innocent from the monsters of the world, which sounded right up his alley. Michael finished this meeting with the declaration that if he is interested in helping the world, he should go to the address on a slip of paper that was quickly slipped to him. Then the Nightbane and Michael vanished as quickly as they appeared to begin with. Left alone to his thoughts in the dark he hardens his resolve, shifts back into his façade, and checks how long it would take to get to the address from his current location on his smartphone.
Jack "BiOden" Tillmun, Prototype Nightbane
Edgy but Light-Hearted Monster
Charisma: 0/-4; Pace: 6/6; Parry: 6/7; Toughness: 5/8 (2)

Martial Artist (Human) / Improved Martial Artist (Morphus): Never an unarmed defender and +d4 damage / +d6 damage
Dark Sight: May ignore Dim or Dark penalties in either form

Wounds: 0/3; Fatigue: 0/2
Bennies: 1/3; Golden Benny: 1/1

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Re: 00 In times gone by

Post by Triessa » Fri Jul 13, 2018 10:38 am

Triessa's hand shook a little as she poured herself a shot of amber liquid from the bottle from the little cabinet over the refrigerator. That cabinet had been locked when she was growing up in the house. When she'd inherited the place, that lock had come off in a hurry.

She forced herself to pause for a second, then tipped her head back and swallowed liquid fire in one gulp. Ah god...it was either really good or really bad... The bottle went back into the cabinet though. Triessa didn't have the BMI to handle more than one of those shots at a time.

Then there was a knock on her door that immediately made her regret putting it away so fast. A stern, insistent knock, like the kind you'd expect from a policeman. Which, in a way, this kind of was. In the same way that a hurricane was 'kind of' breezy.

"Jesus shit, you couldn't give me ten minutes?" she muttered as she left the kitchen, across the unlit living room towards the front door. The house was big, and old. She felt like a bean rattling around inside a dried-out pod in it.

Another knock. "Triessa!" someone outside called. "We need to talk. That's all I'm here for."

The fact he seemed to think that was a comfort spoke volumes to her.

She unlocked both locks and opened the door as far as the chain allowed to glare out through the two-inch wide gap.

"I'm busy," she growled.

Jacob, handsome with his square jaw and blonde crew cut, spread his hands. "I get it. Been a hell of a night. Five minutes and I'm gone. Or, I can stay out here all night, singing the song of my people. You like New Kids, right?"

The door slammed shut.

A second later, there was the scraping of the chain being pushed out of its little track, and it opened again with Triessa gesturing inside. "Five minutes."

He strolled in, looking around as he went. "Nice place, what I can see of it."

"Yeah, it's fanfuckingtastic. Four minutes, thirty seconds."

Jacob grimaced. "Fine. We know about the...job you concluded tonight. How it ended. First I want to say...I'm glad you saved that family. But that creature was on a Seekers watch list. When you killed it..."

"...when I killed it," Triessa cut him off angrily, "...I saved that family you just congratulated me on. It was going to kill them!"

"...because you forced its hand, Triessa!" Jacob cut back, turning to look at her. "Its mission was to impersonate, not to kill! But then you started snooping around, it got threatened, and tried to cut and run. If you'd just coordinated with us to start with, you'd have known that going in!"

Triessa pointed a finger at the Seeker, jabbed it at him. "I am docking you a minute for that. You do NOT get to blame me! They came to me! They asked for help! Where were the Seekers then?!"

Jacob sighed. "We could have helped. Quietly. Arranged convincing stories to get them away. Helped them without compromising an information source. We're just asking you for a little more consideration. There aren't a lot of those things running around that we can positively pinpoint. There's too much to learn to just...sacrifice them."

The private investigator, and sometimes wizard...ess? Witch? How did that even work?...turned away and stalked back into the kitchen. "So you guys know all about them, huh? What...what was it?"

He followed, though at a cautious distance, stopping in the open frame that stood between the kitchen and living room.

"They're...ugh, this would be a lot easier if you'd just come back with me. The Seekers have been collecting information for a long time now, but we have to be careful who we talk to about it."

Triessa shook her head as she got a couple of mugs out and set them on the counter. "If you want me to trust you, you may have to make the first move. Just saying."

"It's not a trust issue. You're living a dangerous life. Next job you take maybe you wind up in a Night Prince's hands. Anything I tell you could lead them back to us. We've made it this long by being careful."

She hesitated, looking up at the cabinet above the fridge, then went to the coffee machine instead.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "And while you're being careful, people are dying. Getting turned into..." For a second Triessa broke off, trying to stifle the image that bubbled up in her mind's eye. A memory. One it would take more than a single shot to forget.

"Not turned into," Jacob said with sympathy. "Replaced by. They're called 'Ashmedai.' They're from the other side."

Triessa shook her head. "I don't get it. You KNOW these things, but... How can you know what's going on, and just sit there, watching?" The coffee machine burbled merrily under her words.

"Everything we know is just a reminder for how much we don't," replied Jacob. "Acting hastily doesn't just get us killed, it gets other people killed too." He paused, then asked something he'd been meaning to for awhile. "This is personal for you, isn't it?"

She was silent as coffee drained into a mug. Then, "They took my parents, all right? On Dark Day. To MAKE Dark Day."

Triessa took her glasses off and scrubbed across her eyes with the sleeve of her 'U of Seattle' sweatshirt. "I...didn't figure it out in time. I was too late."

Jacob stepped forward. "Triessa, you'd have been, what? In high school? There's nothing you could have..."

She whirled on him. "I could have! I knew some magic! I could have gotten help! It doesn't matter now though. Just...finish your coffee and get out. Time's up." She jabbed the mug at him, then started filling the other one.

He accepted the mug and sipped at it, then said, "Look. There's...someone I know of. Someone who might fit your style better than the Seekers. A bit more...hands-on. So to speak."

Triessa was silent, her back still turned as she watched the coffee slowly pour into her mug.

"His name's Michael. He's not one of us, but we've worked with him before. He's...we're pretty sure he's not human, but his 'Resistance' operation looks legit. You might look him up, see what you think."

The last of the coffee gurgled into her mug, and Triessa picked up before turning around. "I generally work alone. Besides where would I even..."

Jacob wasn't standing there. Pinned to the frame of the open doorway between kitchen and living room was a business card. It had only an address on it. No sooner had Triessa read the address than the whole thing evaporated in a puff of smoke.

Triessa quickly repeated the address to herself seven times in her head, committing it to memory. Then she groaned.

"I'm gonna want that MUG BACK!" she shouted at the ceiling, and stalked into the living room to brood and drink coffee and probably fall asleep on the couch. Again.

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Re: 00 In times gone by

Post by Catie » Fri Jul 13, 2018 7:04 pm

Catie enjoyed being strong. Not many petite young women were capable of not only holding their own in a fight but completely demolishing their opponents. There was just something fun about sticking up for herself/others and watching them dismiss her, only to have the crap beaten out of them. And in certain deserving cases, she eliminated the risk of them ever causing trouble again. After all, it’s hard for a dead man to pick fights. Some folks just didn’t deserve another chance to commit whatever atrocities they were attempting. Call her a pessimist, but not everyone is capable of change and she’d rather have the blood of the guilty on her hands than that of innocents for allowing monsters to roam free.

She met Michael thanks to her tendency to work out her frustrations by helping out those in back alley fights who seemed like a good sort who needed a hand. Her fight of the day was defending a young nightbane and she was enjoying wiping a few more hounds off the map. Talk about scum- the way they went after any and all nightbane really got her blood boiling. She was more than happy to kill any she came across and hopefully spare some poor kid in the future. Michael seemed to approve and invited her to join the resistance.

Catie had heard of the resistance and certainly liked the idea, this was just the first time someone with connections to it had invited her in. The chance to move up the ladder from taking on hounds to bigger fish was too good to resist. Anyone who would set out to commit genocide was wrong in her book and needed to be stopped. Plus, it would be nice to make some supernatural friends. She had her family that she could be herself around but other than that she felt surrounded by humans and while she didn’t have anything against them, it would be nice to be able to change more without needing to dispose of or otherwise entice the silence of witnesses after.

So she found herself heading to a meeting that was promised to have others with similar goals to her. A part of her worried that it would be some sort of ambush but she tried to shut that part up. Michael seemed trustworthy and beside that would have to be both truly idiotic and evil to be working with the Ba’al as a nightbane. Deep breaths. She could do this.

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Clayton Hodge
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Re: 00 In times gone by

Post by Clayton Hodge » Fri Jul 13, 2018 8:39 pm

Clayton was always a drifter, never staying in one place for too long. It was a survival instinct. He would make it into town, make a good impression, a few things would go missing here and there, and he would make his way to the next town. Maybe instead he would spend his time gambling - usually with the deck stacked in his favor. Someone would find out and come for vengeance. Whatever the reason, its harder to arrest and hang a man for a crime if he's not around any longer.

Lately, however, Clayton found himself walking the streets of Seattle. Big cities made for good hiding, and he had never been to Seattle. Ever since Dark Day, and especially since he encountered Jack, Clayton found himself prowling the streets as a monstrous lawman instead of an opportunistic criminal.

The coming of the Ba'al and their infiltration and global takeover unsettled Clayton. Unlike many older folks, he did not yearn for a return of the days of old. He put his days in the lawless West behind him. Sure, he wasn't reformed by any means, but he had developed a conscious over the years. The Ba'al took what they wanted, did what they wanted, and there weren't many left able to stop them.

One of the things the Ba'al wanted to take were the lives of children - most specifically young, confused night bane who didn't have a chance in hell against their hunters. So Clayton acted upon his conscious. Nightbane fresh out of their becoming tended to find their way to the dark alleys and underground places, and they tended to die there. He made it his mission to keep them alive even just one more night.

Which is exactly how he met Michael. Clayton caught the trail of some hounds, and they entered the sewers. He knew something had to be up, and he caught up to them as they attacked a nightbane who's morphus oozed magma from all over his body. Which, even Clayton had to admit, was super cool, but a horribilly terrible tactical disadvantage in a pitch black sewer.

Clayton took a moment to shift into his hybrid form before jumping in, blades flashing. He yelled at the kid, "Git goin' while tha gettin's good, kid! Ah'll keep 'em busy - most hounds cain't trouble me much...AH'LL BE GAWD DAMNED! Cursed blade!" Clayton grunted as he was interrupted with a slash from one of the hound's weapons.

The nightbane hesitated when he heard Clayton grunt, so he yelled, "WHAT'N THE NINE HELLS ARE YAH WAITIN' FER? I SAID GIT!"

So the molten Nightbane took off. The wound was more serious than Clayton had let on, and he wasn't able to escape himself. Only the one hound had a cursed blade, but the others were protecting it from him while also harassing Clayton. "Ah reckon this is it," he thought to himself, "A damn shame tah die in the dark and covered'n shit. An' tah scum lahk this..."

His thoughts were cut off as a torrent of arcane destruction rolled over the Hounds around him. Half of them were slaughtered outright. The survivors were made short work of by a small group of nightbane who followed in the wake of the magical assault.

The man whom Clayton figured was responsible for that awe-inspiring display of magic greeted him, "Hello. I am Michael. My associates and I were looking for the boy you saved, and he insisted we save you or he would not leave with me. You have my gratitude. If you want to make a real difference...," Michael handed Clayton a slip of paper and continued, "...Might I suggest that you go to the Place Between? The time and location is on that piece of paper."

Following his introduction, Michael and his nightbane disappeared as quickly as the appeared without even waiting for a response. Clayton shook his head, annoyed, thinkining to himself, "Aw hell, Ah reckon Ah owe this fella a debt ah graditude."

Clayton opened the slip of paper and made a point to be there at the appointed time.
Clayton "Snakebite" Hodge, (Venemous) Snake Lycanthrope
Clayton, Old West Snake 'Thrope
Pace: 6; Parry: 8(2) Toughness: 7(2)
  • +4 Armor (Total) vs Ballistics / Reduce AP by 4 (Ballistics)
Combat-Relevant Edges & Abilities:
  • Against the Odds: +2 to any Trait roll when spending a Benny, stacks with Elan
    Champion (S1): +2 damage dealt to and +2 Toughness against damage from supernaturally evil (or good) sources
    First Strike: Free Fighting attack against one adjacent foe each turn.
    OOC Comments
    Once per turn the hero (if not Shaken) gets a free Fighting attack against a single foe who moves adjacent to him. This automatically interrupts the opponent’s action and does not cost the hero his action if he is on Hold or has not yet acted this round.
    Invulnerability: Only shaken by damage. Only silver, rune/artifacts weapons, cursed weapons, and the bite/claws of other 'thropes can wound a 'thrope.
    Thief (I1): +2 to Climbing/Lockpick/Stealth + Notice/Repair vs traps & similar devices; Stealth Bonus urban only.
    Two-Fisted (I2): Ignore MAP to attack with one weapon in each hand.
Wounds: 0/3; Fatigue: 0/2
Bennies: 1/3; Golden Benny: 1/1
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The Tool or The Pawn

Post by Gravely » Wed Jul 25, 2018 11:15 pm

Gravely was quite familiar with the game of chess. Familiar enough to know that his assignments were coded as chess moves. The assignments were generally the same. Retrieve. Take Out of Circulation. Sometimes Destroy. He had been happy to serve in such a well organized operation.

His work had been for the "Good of the Public" and it was justified because of that. Gravely had served on the force for years that way. Just the hand that touched both the public and private sectors. He thought of himself as a tool, a very effective and effecietent tool. Striking with surgical presicion and always getting the job done.

Seems his anniversaries on the force were always unique. Year Five for example. Out on assignment. In the musty basement of an abandoned warehouse, Gravely and his team had come upon a climate controlled 10 by 10 by 10 foot glass room. The lights were dimmed flourescents from the exterior and no other lighting even remotely touched the book in question. Even without pressing the analyzer to the glass, Gravely knew this book was old.

Sent out to gather a translated Egyptian work (Instructions of Amenemopet) that was the source material for CS Lewis's the Screwtape Letters, Gravely stared entranced by the four papyrus sheets that hung in this odd room. His team secured the area and he set about to do his job. Hermetically sealed. Pressure regulated glass. Shifting floor sensors. Seems even the lighting was rigged to sensors.

It was this night in front of this document that Gravely was introduced to Ba'als and Nightbane.

All this work to protect a seriously old piece of paper. Well several pieces of paper. Gravely began reading the Latin translations. While reading his mind went through another series of diagnostics. His other senses reached out and touched the document. Every indication stated that it was a legitimate document and then physical reading caught up with his mental understanding.

"There are forces at work, my son, that dictate the lives of those blind to reality. These forces serve themselves and their masters. If we wish to move ourselves, and no longer be the pieces moved about in someone elses game of jackals and hounds, we need to see with new eyes, the truth of lives and the lies that bind us here."

Pawns. Who are the pawns?

"All those who do not wish to see!"

Another voice in his head, Gravely turned around and looked at each of his team. They were busy at their posts and none of them were psychic. Turning back to the manuscripts, he was confronted by a short man.

"I am Micheal and I have come to warn the pawn that he is being pursued by the hounds."

Micheal held out to Gravely a white pawn. How odd.

"If I am the pawn then who are the hounds?"

As if on que, Huxley, the one referred to as the Rook by Command, "Gravely, we have in coming."

Looking from Huxley back to 'Micheal', 'Micheal' shrugs his shoulders.

"You are aware and your choices make a difference."

"Bishop. Rook. Knight. White Team prepare to move out."

As Gravely looked down for 'Micheal', he saw no one standing there.

Mission needs to be completed. Gravely bent down and disconnected the electricity via a floor panel. The lights went out. The fans shut down. Climate control was deactivated. Will have to trust time and the elements to finish the job.

Even before all the parts stopped moving, Gravely was moving to each of his team mates and taping them as a sign to move. And then the White Team was a ghost and what ever was pursuing them took up a new chase.
Gravely Heroic Mortal Champion
Wounds: 0/3
Bennies: 0/3

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