DShomshak

Well, yes, but I thought it unseemly to bring it up. 
 
If DOJ had been able to pay me in a timely manner for the UMY Trilogy, I might have rebalanced things by writing The Ultimate Gadgeteer with a new set of High Tech Enemies. 😇
 
Dean Shomshak

Fun idea, @dean day! I've played around a few times with making a campaign using other game books in the past. Back in the '90s, I had a few V&V villains show up in a Champions game, and have had both V&V and Champions characters show up in an M&M campaign. The big problem I had was conversion. In the end, I found that converting by concept over some magical mathematic formula works best. Mind you, it also helps that Freedom City's creator, Steve Kenson, had dropped some conversion on the boards almost a decade ago (see attached). 
 
IMHO, it might be best to start small. Take a single city, populate it with NPCs, villains, any heroes that you want players to interact with and prep for running. Say you decide to use Freedom City (using the attached file). Just mix in what you'd like and then start working on your first game. When you have some time, start on the next city that your player heroes may interact with. Rinse, repeat...
 
 
That would be one of the cities in Mutants & Masterminds, Dean. They had a 3rd edition sourcebook that came out with info on it. It's basically a stand in for Seattle. Fun book.
 
 
fchero-_1_.txt

I wondered which origin types are particularly popular for the Champions Universe, and what types of Powers go with them the most.
 
Why? Because
1) It might point to character concepts that are cool but have been neglected; and
2) I’m a deranged nerd.
 
So this has been my spare-time project for the last week.
 
The whole CU is very large, but not all of it is equally propmoted. So I’m restricting the domain of analysis to the three volumes of Champions Villains. 292 characters total, not counting “agent” types such as Doctor Destroyer’s robots or Necrull’s Necrullticians. Individual characters only!
 
Here are the categories I devised when I did this analysis for my own Champions settings:
 
* SUPERNATURAL BEINGS are innately magical creatures: demons, dimensional conquerors, undead, etc. Examples: Bloodrage, Takofanes, Tyrannon. Also people with supernatural ancestry, such as Frag.
 
* MUTANTS were born with super-powers in their genes. I also include MUTATES, whose origin stories specifically say that their powers are the result of genetic manipulation (such as anyone given powers by Teleios). Examples: Menton, Hurricane, King Cobra.
 
* ROBOTS AND CONSTRUCTS are artificial beings. They have powers because somebody else built them that way. Robots are of course the result of tech; but golems and similar magically-created artificial beings fit in this category as well. Examples: Mechanon (duh), Syzygy.
 
* ENCHANTED characters were given powers by magic: a curse, a spell cast upon them, a magic potion, or the like. Examples: The Basilisk, Black Fang, Harpy.
 
* WEIRD SCIENCE covers all those lab accidents, exposures to industrial waste or atomic radiation, and empowerment processes that are scientific but aren’t specifically called out as exclusively based on gene-splicing. (Though some origin stories are not clear on this point.) Examples: Durak, Bulldozer, everyone in Project Sunburst, Sunspot.
 
 
* CYBORGS started out as normal people but gained powers by having bits added to them. Usually techm but I extend the concept to magical additions (such as a magical gem permanently affixed to the character’s body) or other surgical modification. Examples: Interface, Fiacho, Cairngorm, Howler.
 
* SORCERER characters cast spells. Examples: Doctor Yin Wu, Demonologist, Talisman.
 
* INVENTOR characters build gdgets (including, but not limited to, powered armor) or otherwise do things using SCIENCE! It’s implied that they can build new tech, even if they don’t have VPPs — they aren’t limited to just one device or suite of gadgets. Examples: Doctor Destroyer, Teleios, Utility, Binder, Doctor Philippe Moreau.
 
* TRAINING: If a character’s powers come down to extraordinary skills that aren’t super-tech or sorcery, they go here. Mostly martial artists, but there might be others such as a super-thief with incredible skills but uses mundane tech, Examples: Scorpia, Green Dragon, the Cahokian.
 
* WEAPON: The character’s powers derive from a device that could be taken away, whether it’s tech, magic, or undefined. Moreover, the character lacks the skills to replace or alter the device easily. Examples: the Warlord (he didn’t build his own battlesuit), the Crowns of Krim, Lazer.
 
* MASTERMINDS would be powerful just from the people and resources they command, even if they didn’t have any other source of power. Example: Franklin Stone and Doctor Philippe Moreau are “pure” Masterminds; Doctor Destroyer, King Cobra, and the Warlord have extensive organizations in addition to their personal powers; Baron Nihil and Tyrannon rule entire populations; and the Demonologist can Summon whatever demons he wants, while the Engineer creates robots at will.
 
* ALIENS aren’t human, but aren’t specifically supernatural. Extraterrestrials such as Herculan and Firewing go here; but so does Leviathan (a Lemurian) and Ape-X (uplifted gorilla). This is often a “meta-origin,” worth noting even if not being human is not specifically the source of powers (as Herculan was artificially given powers that are not natural to his species, the Fassai).
 
* OTHER is anything so rare and weird that it doesn’t justify creating a new category, or the source of the character’s powers simply is not known. Example: Timelapse, Glacier.
 
* COMPLEX: Characters can fit within multiple categories, as the dimension lord Skarn is both a supernatural being and a sorcerer, or Cheshire Cat is both a highly trained martial artist and gained teleportation powers through weird science. But if a character fits in three or more categories, I just call it “Complex.” Example: Josiah Brimstone has one set of powers as a sorcerer, another set from the demon that’s fused to him, and a third set from magical devices. OTOH I make exceptions for Masterminds and Aliens, as these tend to be meta-origins — and I try to limit assigning categories based on what’s really important to a character. Just packing a gun or minor gadget, for instance, isn’t enough to place a character as using a Weapon.
 
Placing characters in origin categories can be iffy. Like, I don’t assign every character with martial arts on the character sheet to the Training category: Often its just an add-on and the character would function as a superbeing without it. And as the discussion of Weird Scienct and Mutate characters suggests, the line between them can be blurry. But the goal is to spot patterns, not to precisely classify every character.
 
Here’s the result:
 
Supernatural Beings: 30 characters; 10%
Mutants/Mutates: 65 characters; 22%
Robots/Constructs: 8 characters; 3%
Enchanted: 23 characters; 8%
Weird Science: 54 characters; 18%
Cyborgs: 9 characters; 3%
Sorcerers: 33 characters; 11%
Inventors: 26 characters; 9%
Training: 31 characters; 11%
Weapon: 44 characters; 15%
Mastermind: 25 characters; 9%
Alien: 17 characters; 6%
Other/Unknown: 9 characters; 3%
Complex: 3 characters; 1%
 
Further analysis available if anyone's interested.
 
Dean Shomshak

Kudos on wanting to spread supers around the world. Even if you choose one city as the "home turf" for the PCs ane set a lot of the action there, people move around the world a lot nowadays. This would seem especially reasonable for supervillains, who might want to stay a step ahead of the law or who seek richer spoils than are available in just one city or country.
 
Beyond that, the most important "super demographics" question is how "open" you want the campaign to be. Like, do you want intense, ongoing conflicts between a limited number of characters and factions? Or do you want the freedom to bring in new characters without worrying how they fit into some larger scheme?
 
If you want a wide-open setting with an indefinite number of supers running around, your campaign prep should focus on the major characters and factions. For instance, is there an international law enforcement force analogous to the CU's UNTIL or Marvel's SHIELD? (I make no judgment either way.)
 
Conversely, is there a world-spanning criminal group comparable to VIPER?
 
Who are the Master Villains at the apex of power? This is a particularly good place to show that supers aren't all Americans. (Like, in my own campaign Professor Proton comes from India, the chaos-goddess Tiamat comes from the Middle East, the ecoterrorist Baron Frost is European, the robotic Monad appeared first in China, the Warlock comes from South America, and so on.)
 
Are there any factions that cut through the supers community, such as Marvel mutant supremacists vs. mutant haters, with advocates of coexistince in between? Or for something not quite so done to death, the mystical villains in the CU who seek a Dark Renaissance of magic?
 
That's enough to start.
 
Dean Shomshak

Off in my campaign's background is a government hero who wears powered armor with cold-projection weapons. The government of Taiwan built the powered armor using salvaged Monad tech, and armed it with reconditioned weapons captured from the villain Baron Frost. his code name translates as "Ice Machine." Only after he was publicly announced did anyone notice that this is... not as impressive in English as it is in Chinese.
 
Still, the guy is better off than the Eritrean super-soldier with non-ranged powers of psychic disruption, whose name can be translated as "Bad Touch."
 
What? 
 
Dean Shomshak

I noticed that we don't have a guy with an ice gun. I thought we should have some guy with an ice weapon.  I mean, DC has The Icicle (one and two), Captain Cold, Mister Freeze, and at least one cold ajantant villain in the Golden Glider
 
My own answer to this is a yet written up villain named Winterblade. Basically he is the "ice gun" guy, except his "gun" is the shape of a sword hilt. Not only can he shoot cold/ice beams from it, but he can also cause ice to form as a sword. Hench the name.

Yes. Thought it was a Fantasy Hero Campaign, and I detailed how all the players objected when I killed a favorite NPC to demonstrate a villain’s trap in another thread. The players walked, and that was how a 20 year FH campaign ended. 

Well, Dean, probably not in the way you are asking for, but...  Sort of?
 
I think I may have told this story before, but my first Traveller GM, Lars: he took a summer off and went back to Austria to see his family.
 
When he came back, he had this pair of 4-inch binders just _packed_ with notes and maps and new NPCs and who-knows-what-else.  He had spent a lot of the summer brainstorming what was to be his Magnum Opus of a Traveller campaign- something that would have us see half the universe and ultimately looking upon the face of God....
 
At least, to hear him tell it (a couple of years later). 
 
We were all incredibly stoked!  We made up new characters- we even took some of his advice when selecring careers and skills charts upon which to roll.  That cant be stressed enough: we were so excited to sive into this massive new universe that we took GM advice _without balk or complaint_!
 
Two hours into the first session finds us in serious trouble and on the run- mistaken identity, I beleive it was, followed up by a solid frame while our reputations were low.  We had to get out of Dodge, and fast, if we were to have any hope of clearing our names!
 
Lars was quite excited- he already had four or five bookmarks in the first notebook (which he had been,dlipping through furiously, feeding us situations and flavor text), then he paused, grabbed the second book while we were warming up the engines for an illegal departure.  We lifted off as he oulled the book open near the center, just soread enough to get his fingers  in it.  "So!" He began, excited by the turn of events.  "Which way is it that you think will run to escape your circumstance?"
 
In unison, we all shouted happily "coreward!" Followed by various ckaims about just how fast we were goinf to go!
 
Lars's face fell completely off.  He sat there, stunned, dumbstruck, and just stared.
 
Finally he sobered up, made a big show out of xloaing both books, got up, walked to the kitchen, held them in outstretched hands, and dropped them both into the trash can.
 
"I think, my friends," he started, never actually looking at us, "that we are done for tonight, surely.  (As a anon-native- but excellent- English user, he had some rather odd structures and turns of phrase).  I think it is the best thing to be stopoing here at this point for tonight.  We should plan on not  grouping up again for I am thinking maybe three weeks."  He turned then to look at us.  "I should be enough sober again by three weeks from now.  Okay?"
 
Then he went into the living room, flopped down on the couch, and turned the TV on.
 
 

The latest adventure I ran in my "Avant Guard" campaign ended with the PCs blowing up the campaign. I'm not upset: They triggered a land mine I planted in the campaign practically from the beginning.
 
Time travel is a big thing in the campaign. All the PCs were recruited from various doomed futures in order to prevent those futures from happening. Two PCs had been in a previous iteration of the team, in a timeline that was erased. They have seen hints that recent history has been changed other times, too.
 
So, in the course of the adventure the PCs captured a villain called Ravager, who wears a plasma-tech battlesuit: plasma blasters, plasma jets for flight, plasma force field for protection. He's been around practically from the start of the Superheroic Age (in this campaign, 2000) and most plasma super-tech is based on Ravager's -- though everybody knows that he was just a grad student who stole the tech from his faculty advisor, a leading plasma researcher, then killed him and destroyed any records of the tech. Other people heard them arguing.
 
One of the PCs works at a scientific research company. Another scientist there, Dr. Marilyn Jones, specialized in plasma research, trying to reconstruct it all so it can be mass produced instead of held by a few rogue gadgeteers. She's also interested in time travel: A previous adventure had her kidnapped because of her research in sending information back in time through a standing plasma wave.
 
The fight happened at the research facility, and Dr. Jones helped out by shooting Ravager in the back with an experimental plasma blaster she kludged together... but that was very good at penetrating Ravager's force field. It comes out that she's studied him. No surprise there. She also *hates* him. But that doesn't stop the PCs from handing her Ravager's damaged blasty-suit until the Feds and the lawyers say otherwise. She is, after all, the person best qualified to study it.
 
At the end of the adventure, the PCs are tying up loose ends, trying to find why people did what they did. The PC who works at the research lab walks in on Dr. Jones, who is wearing the blasty-suit. She's stripped down the costume part and attached other bits that he recognizes from her temporal physics experiments. He persuades her to explain what she's doing.
 
Doctor Jones is Ravager's daughter, though she hasn't seen him since she was young and he went on the lam as a super-criminal. Her mother changed their names. She believes she can use the modified suit to go back in time to stop her father from killing the great scientist, stealing the tech and becoming Ravager. Everyone will be better off.
 
The PCs are dubious. Time travel is dangerous, you never know how else history will change, etc. They persuade her not to trigger the time-jump just yet.
 
And history changes.
 
Doctor Jones vanishes. There is no Doctor Jones. There never was. Ravager is gone from his jail cell. That villain never existed, either. I call for EGO rolls for each PC, as the life history they remember is overlain by a second set of memories of another timeline. Not everyone succeeds. This is not good for them.
 
Here's what the PCs can now never learn, because they didn't ask the right questions when they had the chance. Ravager didn't invent the tech. Neither did the scientist he supposedly stole it from and killed. One night a massive power surge blacked out half the city of Toronto, where he then lived and worked, as a badly burned woman wearing a fried high-tech suit appeared near him and collapsed. If he'd worked harder to call paramedics, she might have lived. As it was, she died of her burns. He hid the body and took the suit to study. His faculty advisor found him studying the advanced tech, and they quarreled...
 
I created Ravager very early in designing the Avant Guard setting. I introduced the character of Dr. Jones as soon as the PC began working at the lab. Slowly planted the seeds of the climactic scene, then let the PCs influence Dr. Jones' choice. I made no attempt to influence *their* choice.
 
So the setting's history has changed. The causality loop of Ravager's life has been broken. As a long-time villain, he interacted with many other villains and heroes, whose lives all changed now that he never existed. I now have quite a lot of work to do to reboot the campaign. I am an idiot.
 
Has anyone else blown up their campaign, or had the players do it?
 
Dean Shomshak

The latest adventure I ran in my "Avant Guard" campaign ended with the PCs blowing up the campaign. I'm not upset: They triggered a land mine I planted in the campaign practically from the beginning.
 
Time travel is a big thing in the campaign. All the PCs were recruited from various doomed futures in order to prevent those futures from happening. Two PCs had been in a previous iteration of the team, in a timeline that was erased. They have seen hints that recent history has been changed other times, too.
 
So, in the course of the adventure the PCs captured a villain called Ravager, who wears a plasma-tech battlesuit: plasma blasters, plasma jets for flight, plasma force field for protection. He's been around practically from the start of the Superheroic Age (in this campaign, 2000) and most plasma super-tech is based on Ravager's -- though everybody knows that he was just a grad student who stole the tech from his faculty advisor, a leading plasma researcher, then killed him and destroyed any records of the tech. Other people heard them arguing.
 
One of the PCs works at a scientific research company. Another scientist there, Dr. Marilyn Jones, specialized in plasma research, trying to reconstruct it all so it can be mass produced instead of held by a few rogue gadgeteers. She's also interested in time travel: A previous adventure had her kidnapped because of her research in sending information back in time through a standing plasma wave.
 
The fight happened at the research facility, and Dr. Jones helped out by shooting Ravager in the back with an experimental plasma blaster she kludged together... but that was very good at penetrating Ravager's force field. It comes out that she's studied him. No surprise there. She also *hates* him. But that doesn't stop the PCs from handing her Ravager's damaged blasty-suit until the Feds and the lawyers say otherwise. She is, after all, the person best qualified to study it.
 
At the end of the adventure, the PCs are tying up loose ends, trying to find why people did what they did. The PC who works at the research lab walks in on Dr. Jones, who is wearing the blasty-suit. She's stripped down the costume part and attached other bits that he recognizes from her temporal physics experiments. He persuades her to explain what she's doing.
 
Doctor Jones is Ravager's daughter, though she hasn't seen him since she was young and he went on the lam as a super-criminal. Her mother changed their names. She believes she can use the modified suit to go back in time to stop her father from killing the great scientist, stealing the tech and becoming Ravager. Everyone will be better off.
 
The PCs are dubious. Time travel is dangerous, you never know how else history will change, etc. They persuade her not to trigger the time-jump just yet.
 
And history changes.
 
Doctor Jones vanishes. There is no Doctor Jones. There never was. Ravager is gone from his jail cell. That villain never existed, either. I call for EGO rolls for each PC, as the life history they remember is overlain by a second set of memories of another timeline. Not everyone succeeds. This is not good for them.
 
Here's what the PCs can now never learn, because they didn't ask the right questions when they had the chance. Ravager didn't invent the tech. Neither did the scientist he supposedly stole it from and killed. One night a massive power surge blacked out half the city of Toronto, where he then lived and worked, as a badly burned woman wearing a fried high-tech suit appeared near him and collapsed. If he'd worked harder to call paramedics, she might have lived. As it was, she died of her burns. He hid the body and took the suit to study. His faculty advisor found him studying the advanced tech, and they quarreled...
 
I created Ravager very early in designing the Avant Guard setting. I introduced the character of Dr. Jones as soon as the PC began working at the lab. Slowly planted the seeds of the climactic scene, then let the PCs influence Dr. Jones' choice. I made no attempt to influence *their* choice.
 
So the setting's history has changed. The causality loop of Ravager's life has been broken. As a long-time villain, he interacted with many other villains and heroes, whose lives all changed now that he never existed. I now have quite a lot of work to do to reboot the campaign. I am an idiot.
 
Has anyone else blown up their campaign, or had the players do it?
 
Dean Shomshak

That's a very significant assertion. I believe it's valid, but it made me want to review Champions characters looking for exceptions.
 
One thing about super-class martial artists is that their training can include developing control of their ch'i to achieve effects rivaling super powers. From CV3, Spirit Fist can use ch'i to Aid any of his Characteristics to superhuman levels. Jade Phoenix can focus a long AOE Line of offensive ch'i energy through any sword he holds. From Champions Worldwide, the Chinese villain Lam Kuei ("blue-faced demon") learned advanced ch'i techniques from extra-dimensional spirits, that are practically on Dragonball level in the energy attacks he can throw.
 
Out of CV2, Black Mist of the Brain Trust learned a Limited Mind Control which seems to work like super-hypnosis, although his write-up calls it "ninja magic." However, in 6E Golden Age Champions, the British hero called The Ghost had studied secret martial arts in the Orient including "the Path of the Unseen Man," using the power of his mind to block any living beings he was aware of from perceiving him in any way (Limited Invisibility).

Well, I haven't done anything here for some time- mostly because; well, dying computer, posting by phone sucks, etc.....
 
 
Last year at Halloween we started a "background arc" built around a Mcguffin called the Morgan Stone.  Short version is where the stone appears, weirdness happens.  At Halloween, the city was overrun by angels, spirits, asylum escapees, and zombies.
 
At the end of the day, blame,Foxbat, who needed the stone to serve as the jewel for his walking stick while he qas John the Good Reverend Smith, because the perfect costume requires the perfect accessoriea, and you cant sell The Church of Everybody Else is Going to Die without the perfect costume, right?
 
Geez, Leroy; sometjimes I dont think you are paying attention at all...
 
 
 
That side quest ran two six-hour sessions and a third four-hour session, so you can see why I don't want to discuss it with two thumbs, bad eyes, and a brain-damaged autocorrect.     
 
So just before Christmas, the Morgan Stone reappeared.
 
See, even though our heroes figured out that the stone was the cause of their troubles (much earlier than I had meant for them to, but hey- I can roll with it), they still failed to recover it after Wight Night: Foxbat had taken crafty (for various values of 'crafty') precautions to keep it out of their hands, and- to my incredulous disbelief- _they worked_!  (Seriously: these kids jad seen through most of his plans right up until now, then they all had some kind if brain cramp or something....)
 
Well, _that_ waan't going to cut it, as the Morgan Stone has to be in play to cause more holiday-themed mischief for at least two (and possibly three) random holidays.
 
So skip to Friday's adventure (which we played in under three hours, for a number of reasons, the first one being that I had seen this one as being little more than mindless combat: they had done a considerable job chasing leads, connecting the dots, putting everything together, and figuring out that zombies ciuld be cure through forced ingestion of Bison-brand microwave chicken nuggets and that much-maligned artificial orange juice: Delish-S.  (Let's remember that I lightened it up considerably in the planning stage upon discovering that one of the younger girls playing had a serious squeamishness about zombies).
 
So what does a campaign look like?
 
Sometimes, you have to fill in the blanks for the players.  You have to handle this,,,, well, with new players, you have to just make it a matter of fact kind of thing; always, you should have a firm grip of the players and how they operate, and use your best judgment.
 
Some newer players might find it a bit railroad-y (it isn't), and some older playrrs might object because 'why cant we play that out?'  At the end of the _experienced_ players realize it is just "so you are all sitting in a tavern" with extra filler.  It won't take long before your new players get there; you just have to handle it accordingly.
 
You are all standing in the street in feont of city hall, waiting for the sun to finish setting.  Magnus (Magnificent has been accidentally called Magnus so many times,since I last posted here that he has retconned his name), you and Firefly are posing with a bunch of the school kids from yesterday.  The Chamber of Commerce put out an add for superheroes to help young children decorate the big tree, with an emphasis on those who could fly.
 
The massive pine tree  in front of the City Hall has been the town's official tree since the cornerstone for City Hall was first laid behind it.  Today this venerable pine tree is just over 90 feet high, and so thick with foliage as to be even more perfect than the most meticulously-designed artificial tree.  For decades now, the bottom fifteen feet have been decorated by kidergarten and elementary school students, and a tradition started by Rook over 20 years ago has a few superheroes come to help, lifting or sometimes carefully flying children up to reach the highest branches of these lower limbs- with parental permission, of course.  
Of course, you, Firefly, and Magnus were big hits, as you can actually fly and carry the children; Red Cloak would cast levitation spells, giving children the illusion that they were flying all by themselves.  Feral was delighting the kindergarten children by turing into a gigantic squirrel and carrying ornament-laden children scamering up the trunk and out onto the limbs, bursting through the needles, pausing long enough hang an ornament, and scampering back into the tree, over and over again.
 
I did a quick run through of how each od the PCs participated, inclyding Mycroft lifting a few children as high as he could reach, but mostly pushing and collecting various release forms from parents and constantly yelling at different heroes to "be careful!  Those aren't sacks of sand you're  carrying!"
 
 
See?  We could have played that through, but instead it took three minutes to simply summarize a non-plot-critical scene that set the tone for the moment and explained why we were so here together now in our costumes.  Had we played it, we could have easily burned half or more of the session just gooding around.  Yes; it would have been fun, but with any luck, the planned adventure would be even more fun.
 
In front of City Hall are the sixteen steps to the ground, each the full forty-foot width of the stone courtyard in front of the main entrance.  Today, the steps and the courtyard serve as an impromptu grandstand for the mayor and various other local officials who will be making short statements and well-wishes as soon as the parade finishes.  A small handful of the helpful heroes from yesterday are gathered behind the officials- that includes you guys, of course, and most of you have tuned out the panderinf of the politicians, waiting for the big even itself.  You pass the time amusing youselves with the antics of the people enjoying the Winter Carnival set up in the park across the street, and generally scanning the huge crowd that has gathered for the tree lighting.  
 
The parade has almost concluded; it has gone through the financial district and is currently windinf its way through the government distric, known locally as  Red Tape Row (even though it consists of a series of buildings built around eight small squares such in turn are built around the much larger Founders Park, where the Carnival is set up.  
 
As the parade winds through the street in front of City Hall, it continues on around to the opposite side of the Carnival and breaks down the floats and disperses.
 
Finally, the last of the parade- Campaign High # 213's award-winning marching band has one the draw this year, and has won the right to lead Santa's Sleigh in the parade.  They march just beyond the courthouse and pause, marching in place, and a small golf-cart festooned with decorations and lights tows a comical-looking machine that is spraying dlurriws of artificiaI on an assortment of people dressed variously as elves, nutcrackers, and polar bears.  As they march forward, the jinflinf of bells heralds Santa's sleigh, drawn (on hidden rubber wheels) by a team of real reindeer (raised and trained by a local man living on a small farm outside of town).
 
The sleigh stops briefly, Santa leaps out, and runs up the steps with his gift sack on his back.  He continues to the podium, steps up to the microphone, and gives a hearty "Ho! Ho! Ho!" to the crowd.  "Santa has so many gifts for Campaign City this year!"
 
As if on cue, the first of the politicians step forth and Santa hads him a gift.  The politician opens it, and removws an oversized check.  He shows it to the audience, and then announces "the charities board is pkeased to announce that they have raised thirteen thousand dollars for Campaign County Animal Shelters this year!"  There is cheering  and applause and rhe politician launches into a bried speech, wishes everyone happy holidays, and steps down.  Santa produces another present, another politician  steps forward, and rhe cycle repeats itself.  Mercifully, rhis only lasts thirty minutes or so, rhen then Mayor Cauldwell takes rhe podium.  After a brief speech and well-wishes for rhe citizens, he is interruptwd by Santa.  "Mr. Mayor, I think it's time-"
 
"It was time thirty minutes ago!" Yells a voice from the crowd.
 
Rhe mayor turns to Santa, gestures grandly, and the tunrs back to the crowd "we are fortunate to live so far north that Santa himself can attend our tree lighting!" as Santa makes his way toward a comically-oversized and festivley-decorated switch.  Reaching the switch, Santa turns to the crowd and announces "Here we go-ho-ho-ho!" and thros the switch, setting off a few pyrotechnic sparks as hidden technicians throw the real switch, and the tree blazes to life.
 
The crowd oohs and aaahs for a few minutes, then begins to  break into smaller groups, each doing whatever it is it wants to do- take pictures, move closer to the tree, go to the carnival, or whatever.
 
 
 
Again: we could play this, but ultimately, there is nothing for the PCs to _do_ at this point, and it is four more minutes of narraration.  
 
At this point, the players are a bit antsy for something to do.
 
Mycroft, you notice the float that had the two gigantic Timmy Tiger balloons seems to be having trouble wrestling with them.
 
"Hey- one of you flying guys want to go help out with those balloons before someone gets hurt?  Doesn't hurt to peove you're worth keeping around."
 
We have a few similar situations- let the players run around, do some,helpful things, let rhem interact with the townfolk- Feral got to flex a skill solving an electrical problem,that had stymied the Ferris wheel- things like that.
 
As soon as evertone had settled into rhe "okay; we are having a character development type session....
 
Mycroft; give me a Perception check
 
Why me?
 
For one, you're closest.,,for another, more than any other character here, you are the most likely to be habitually looking for trouble, what with your police training and general untrusting nature.
 
Makes sense.  Eight.
 
The light seems to have shifted.
 
What do you mean?
 
There is something different,about the pool of light in which you stand.
 
I look around.
 
Make a Perception check at plus 2.
 
Eleven.
 
It's the tree.  It's leaning.
 
Leaning?  Like falling?!
 
It Doesn't seem,to be fa)ing, but it is _definitely_ leaning way forward for some reason...
 
Crap!
 
You can hear the creaking of the trunk, and the tree seems to be.. Wobbling?...
 
Crap!  Rook!
 
Took is tied up: her social group runs a small roller coaster at the carnival to raise money for the homelss shelter.
 
So she's here?
 
Yes, but she isn't here in costume-
 
She's like seven and a half feet tall!  What else does she wear?!
 
Right now, she's wearing a very xute Santa's elf costume with a name,tag that says "Hi! My name is Tiny Elf."
 
(Much laughter from the players)
 
The roller coaster is muscle-powered; she's the muscle.
 
Is she strong enough to catch a tree? 
 
Probably, but she doesn't have her radio.  She is here to have fun with her friends from one of her social clubs and raise money for charity.
 
Magnus!  Can you hear me?
 
Can I hear get?
 
Him.
 
Him.  Can I hear him?
 
Have you got your com link on?
 
Yeah...
 
Then you can hear him.
 
What's up, Mycroft?
 
Are you strong enough to catch a tree?
 
Maybe......?
 
Maybe?!
 
Nobody has ever thrown a tree a me!  What kind of a question is that?
 
Well the Christmas tee is falling over...
 
Feral, Kinetica, and Red Cloak:  What?!
 
Firefly: I am on the way, Detective!"
 
Kinetica: I will beat her there.
 
Thanks, Firefly, but I think thia will take more muscle than you have.
 
Feral: I hummingbird over to the tree-
 
Mycroft, you turn back to the tree and notice that it isn't leaning.  It is as straight as it has always been.
 
What?  How?  Guys, be on the lookout for any supervillains with illusion powers!
 
Red Cloak; I have illusion powers!
 
Me: and you're not under suspicion; you are one of the good guys.
 
Can I help?
 
Feral: I think I have gor muscle covered!  I turn into an elephant the second I land!
 
Mycroft: unless you can turn into a team of rhose things, I dont think it is goinf to be enough,  Cloak has that giant hand he can do; I dont know what we are going to need... 
 
Okay, Magnus has arrived, as has everyone else.  Magnus, the tree looks fine to you.
 
What's the matter, Detective?
 
What is going on here-?
 
There is a tremendous craking and groaning and the tree leans again, the other way this time.  Some of the citizens have noticed and are looking panicked....
 
The team leaps into crowd control and helps everyone move into Founders Park.  Red Cloak sets up q mystic wall as a barrier to keep people at least one hundred feet from the tree in case it falls.
 
 It rights itself, then leans the other way, then leans,backwards, flopping around faster and faster, the truck craking and groaning-  suddenly. One massive root erupts from the ground and,befins to push against the soil.  Another root rips free, then another, then two more-!  The tree befins to rise up-  up, up, up, towering into the sky...
 
It stands, fully erect, the gaudy LED star atop it almost invisible nearly two hundred feet above you....
 
And thus began the Terri of the Christmas Treant....
 
 
More later; I can't stare at this tiny keyboard anymore....
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

Bad news in Heroland, cross-posted from the Company Questions section:
 
 

[BEGIN BOXED TEXT]
Tephra, That Was Anadem
The nearest shadowland to Riwa lies almost 100 miles south of the plateau, along a now-unused spur of the Diamond Road.
 
Once there was a valley between two knots of mountains, its rich soil watered by several small streams. Here was built Anadem, City of Flowers. A high volcanic mountain overlooked the flower-scented city. The folk of Anadem prayed to Heaven in gratitude and joy.
 
Then the volcano erupted so violently as to destroy its eastern flank. A deluge of burning ash swept over the vale of Anadem in minutes, killing everything and everyone. The people had time only for brief prayers. None were delivered, for the gods are weak and inattentive; but many of the people became ghosts. Their death-prayers carried Anadem into the Underworld.
 
The city’s name died with its inhabitants. By day, the valley remains a desolation of barren gray ash where nothing moves except the wind. At night the city of Tephra appears, gray and white gables and towers rising in the starlight.
 
Many among the living and the dead believe that someone in Anadem must have sinned a great sin to offend the volcano’s god. Others suggest the god envied Anadem and destroyed the city out of spite. No one can ask the god, for no one has seen him since the cataclysm. The remains of the mountain, half a mile shorter than before, snarl toward Tephra like the jaw of a skull half-buried in the ground. Its former name is cursed and unspoken. Instead, men call it Anadem’s Pyre.
 
The ghosts of Tephra do not cultivate their ghostly ash-fields or otherwise pretend that they still live. They know they are dead. They could scarcely pretend otherwise, given the seared and seeping ectoplasmic flesh exposed by the blackened, flaking remnants of spiritual skin. The ghosts hate the living out of envy. They still pray, but now they have only one prayer that they offer to Oblivion: May all gods burn.
[END BOXED TEXT]
----------
Further explanations of references you can't figure out are available on request.
 
Dean Shomshak

Holy War
Tawia of the noble Darhune family dons the regalia of war: a breastplate, a skirt of leather strips, bracers, greaves and helm. Last she dons the silver-gilt mask of a desert jackal. The sisters in her martial order dress likewise, with masks of vulture, lizard and leopard. Tradition says that women must not fight in war, so they wear the visage of beasts instead. In their own chapterhouses, the male nobles don similar panoplies in the colors of their orders: Storm Knights in blue and white, Flame Knights in red and orange, Stone Knights in gray and brown, Maize Knights in green and yellow, and River Knights in green and blue. They paint their faces in their order’s colors instead of wearing masks. The warriors march from their chapterhouses to the plaza and shout, “Riwa and Qoba! Ruhollah and the Risen King!”
 
Similar ceremonies take place in Dolawi. The kings spent a month scheduling the war. Deaths among the aristocracy left both cities short of slaves, for nobles must not go alone to the Black Earth. A war enables the nobles to re-stock.
 
Meeting in battle, knight shouts challenge to knight. They wager handfuls of conscripted peasants on their duels. Tawia wins ten soldiers as slaves for the Darhune. Only the bravest dare to wager their own lives: The victor shall sacrifice the loser to his ancestors.
 
The second day brings the melee. Knights charge at the common soldiers of each city, striving with bola, net and mace to capture additional prisoners. The conscripts bear only padded clubs.
 
On the third day, the two kings duel. Ruhollah loses and so must give 100 of his subjects to the king of Dolawi.
 
“My ancestors demand more,” says King Fodjour. “Double or nothing? I know it’s irregular, but what can I do?” King Ruhollah allows that his ancestors say the same, but suggests they simply duel for another 100 soldiers. Perhaps they shall break even.
 
Secret Conquest
Indeed, lately the ancestors demand more every year: more incense, prayers and blood, richer funerals even for the common folk, more beasts and slaves sacrificed at the death of nobles. More wars. Everyone complies. No king would dare seem stingy: He would offend his ancestors and weaken his claim to inherit the Risen King’s reign. Instead of making war once every few years, Qoba has fought two wars already this year.
 
Nobody points out that the Risen King’s law does not include Riwa’s ritualistic slave-taking wars. When the Risen King departed, the lords of the seven cities elected a new high king from among their number. Sore losers turned to civil war. Kings and nobles sacrificed prisoners to strengthen their ancestors, which the ancestors endorsed for their own benefit. The Riwans eventually gave up on high kings, but the wars continued.
 
Limited contact between the living and the dead also means that no Riwan has yet figured out that the new demands don’t come from their ancestors. In fact, the First and Forsaken Lion conquered Riwa-of-the-Underworld four years ago. Most of the Riwan ghosts now labor in the Deathlord’s prayer mills. He destroyed any noble ghosts whom he could not break to his will. Many of the ghosts who manifest in the mortuary ziggurats are imposters.
 
In each city, bogus ancestors tell kings that ceremonial wars are not enough. They should train their knights and soldiers for real wars, marching north and south along the Diamond Road. Dutifully, the kings obey. Already, some launch raids against nearby tribes and villages, capturing entire populations for slaves and sacrifices. They want to be ready when the Final King appears to forge Riwa once more into a great nation… from mortal faults set free.
-------------
Dean Shomshak

Riwa
 
About midway between the Lap and Gem, the Diamond Road crosses the plateau of Riwa. Let the caravan move on; linger instead in the plaza of Qoba, one of Riwa’s seven cities. Listen to the bard, descendant of ancient princes, as he sings the Riwayana, epic repository of the country’s history, heroes and lore
 
Four times hath Riwa risen, ruled by mighty kings,
And four times hath it fallen through the faults of men.
An Age of Gold by glory gained, and lost through treacher’s guile.
An Age of Silver subsequent, built and lost for love.
A Dragon Age of toil and greed, by plague its vices purged.
A new law from the Risen King, by zealous pride undone.
A Fifth and Final King shall come: Hear now the prophecy!
When Riwa rises ne’er to fall, from mortal fault set free.
 
The Riwayana has five books, each taking a full day to sing, but the fifth book is not yet written. Today, the bard sings only a brief passage from the fourth book as a way to introduce Qoba’s king.
 
Blood and Soil
King Ruhollah stands on the high dais before his palace, his body painted black and a maguey thorn in his hand. He thrusts the spine through his earlobe, smears his hand with blood, and raises it high. A priest hands Ruhollah an ear of maize. The king then drives the thorn through his tongue and spits blood onto the dark soil that covers the platform. Finally, he lances his own manhood. He collects the blood in a small bowl and dribbles it over the skull of his grandfather. Thus does Ruhollah enact the covenant of the Risen King and proclaim himself the rightful heir: He hears the words of his ancestors, repays the earth for its life-giving bounty, and acknowledges that life comes from death. The charcoal on his body shows that his flesh comes from the Black Earth and to that darkness must return.
 
Colors of Earth
Riwans treat black as the color of both life and death. Strips and dots of Black Earth run along the seasonal streams and ancient qanats that bring water from the mountains. Here the Riwans plant squash, beans and maize. When Riwans die, they return their bodies to the Black Earth to nourish the soil with their flesh and the vital force of their lower souls.
 
Yellow Earth surrounds the farmland. This land is too dry for crops but supports sheep and goats. The half-nomadic herdsmen are not quite respectable in Riwa, for they do not live on land sanctified by their ancestors. Still, they can return to their native villages each year to perform the sacred rites. Yellow is the color of wild things, the world without humanity. Shrines to elementals are painted yellow.
 
The Fire Mountains to the west are the Blue Earth, the sky-land that brings water. Blue is the color of Heaven and a suitable hue for shrines to gods; an auspicious color, but not as good as black.
 
To the East, the plateau ends in a maze of canyons, knife-edged ridges and badlands. Beyond this Ragged Edge stretches the great Southern Desert. Riwans call the desert the Red Earth, the evil land of sandstorms and raiders where death brings no life. Ancient fortresses guard the passes through the Ragged Edge. All seven kings should send troops to the fortresses, for so commanded the Dragon Lords of old. The watch sometimes fails because the modern kings of the city-states cannot agree about which fortress belongs to which king. Some Riwans, especially those living near the Ragged Edge, volunteer. Such wardens cannot be conscripted for other battles.
 
The seven cities of Riwa are Borsuna, Dolawi, Orzad, Qoba, Resht, Uda and Wegál. Of the ruined cities, the most important is Aman-Ri, first and eternal capital of Riwa. Nothing remains of the Golden King’s palace except the great stepped, circular mound that supported it. Nevertheless, every king of Riwa since his reign — both high kings of old and the rulers of the schismed cities of today — crowns himself on the mound of the Golden King. They could not rule otherwise, or at least not rule in Riwa.
 
The Pact of Life and Death
Riwans build shrines to placate various useful or important spirits, but they reserve true reverence for their ancestors. They bury their dead in the Black Earth with clothing, food and ornaments for the afterlife. After ten years, Riwans exhume the bones and pack them in clay jars.
 
Wealthier Riwans use urns molded with death masks of the occupants. The jars of poor Riwans merely have a face sketched on the side. In return for prayers and offerings, Riwan ghosts bless and protect their living descendants. Few Riwans encounter ghosts, though. The Risen
 
King taught this covenant of the living and the dead, but also said that each should stay in their own world. Riwa has no shadowlands, so few ghosts have easy access to the living in any case.
 
Matters are different for nobles. Each city has several noble families. The nobles rise and fall in rank based on the number and power of their ancestral ghosts: The aristocracy of the living echoes the aristocracy of the dead. The royal family just has the strongest cohort of ghosts. New deaths can swell that cohort; Lethe shrinks it. Dynasties shift over the decades.
 
The ziggurat of the noble dead dominates a Riwan city’s plaza, overtopping the palaces of the living. Each tier of the ziggurat has crypts cut into its sides where black-glazed urns rest on altars of diorite, receiving sacrifices of incense, grain and blood. The royal family claims the higher tiers and crowning spire. The sacred ziggurat enables the dead to visit their tombs when mortals sacrifice to them, and so advise their heirs.
---------------
Dean Shomshak

One of my favorite panels feels relevant. 
 

Riwa
 
About midway between the Lap and Gem, the Diamond Road crosses the plateau of Riwa. Let the caravan move on; linger instead in the plaza of Qoba, one of Riwa’s seven cities. Listen to the bard, descendant of ancient princes, as he sings the Riwayana, epic repository of the country’s history, heroes and lore
 
Four times hath Riwa risen, ruled by mighty kings,
And four times hath it fallen through the faults of men.
An Age of Gold by glory gained, and lost through treacher’s guile.
An Age of Silver subsequent, built and lost for love.
A Dragon Age of toil and greed, by plague its vices purged.
A new law from the Risen King, by zealous pride undone.
A Fifth and Final King shall come: Hear now the prophecy!
When Riwa rises ne’er to fall, from mortal fault set free.
 
The Riwayana has five books, each taking a full day to sing, but the fifth book is not yet written. Today, the bard sings only a brief passage from the fourth book as a way to introduce Qoba’s king.
 
Blood and Soil
King Ruhollah stands on the high dais before his palace, his body painted black and a maguey thorn in his hand. He thrusts the spine through his earlobe, smears his hand with blood, and raises it high. A priest hands Ruhollah an ear of maize. The king then drives the thorn through his tongue and spits blood onto the dark soil that covers the platform. Finally, he lances his own manhood. He collects the blood in a small bowl and dribbles it over the skull of his grandfather. Thus does Ruhollah enact the covenant of the Risen King and proclaim himself the rightful heir: He hears the words of his ancestors, repays the earth for its life-giving bounty, and acknowledges that life comes from death. The charcoal on his body shows that his flesh comes from the Black Earth and to that darkness must return.
 
Colors of Earth
Riwans treat black as the color of both life and death. Strips and dots of Black Earth run along the seasonal streams and ancient qanats that bring water from the mountains. Here the Riwans plant squash, beans and maize. When Riwans die, they return their bodies to the Black Earth to nourish the soil with their flesh and the vital force of their lower souls.
 
Yellow Earth surrounds the farmland. This land is too dry for crops but supports sheep and goats. The half-nomadic herdsmen are not quite respectable in Riwa, for they do not live on land sanctified by their ancestors. Still, they can return to their native villages each year to perform the sacred rites. Yellow is the color of wild things, the world without humanity. Shrines to elementals are painted yellow.
 
The Fire Mountains to the west are the Blue Earth, the sky-land that brings water. Blue is the color of Heaven and a suitable hue for shrines to gods; an auspicious color, but not as good as black.
 
To the East, the plateau ends in a maze of canyons, knife-edged ridges and badlands. Beyond this Ragged Edge stretches the great Southern Desert. Riwans call the desert the Red Earth, the evil land of sandstorms and raiders where death brings no life. Ancient fortresses guard the passes through the Ragged Edge. All seven kings should send troops to the fortresses, for so commanded the Dragon Lords of old. The watch sometimes fails because the modern kings of the city-states cannot agree about which fortress belongs to which king. Some Riwans, especially those living near the Ragged Edge, volunteer. Such wardens cannot be conscripted for other battles.
 
The seven cities of Riwa are Borsuna, Dolawi, Orzad, Qoba, Resht, Uda and Wegál. Of the ruined cities, the most important is Aman-Ri, first and eternal capital of Riwa. Nothing remains of the Golden King’s palace except the great stepped, circular mound that supported it. Nevertheless, every king of Riwa since his reign — both high kings of old and the rulers of the schismed cities of today — crowns himself on the mound of the Golden King. They could not rule otherwise, or at least not rule in Riwa.
 
The Pact of Life and Death
Riwans build shrines to placate various useful or important spirits, but they reserve true reverence for their ancestors. They bury their dead in the Black Earth with clothing, food and ornaments for the afterlife. After ten years, Riwans exhume the bones and pack them in clay jars.
 
Wealthier Riwans use urns molded with death masks of the occupants. The jars of poor Riwans merely have a face sketched on the side. In return for prayers and offerings, Riwan ghosts bless and protect their living descendants. Few Riwans encounter ghosts, though. The Risen
 
King taught this covenant of the living and the dead, but also said that each should stay in their own world. Riwa has no shadowlands, so few ghosts have easy access to the living in any case.
 
Matters are different for nobles. Each city has several noble families. The nobles rise and fall in rank based on the number and power of their ancestral ghosts: The aristocracy of the living echoes the aristocracy of the dead. The royal family just has the strongest cohort of ghosts. New deaths can swell that cohort; Lethe shrinks it. Dynasties shift over the decades.
 
The ziggurat of the noble dead dominates a Riwan city’s plaza, overtopping the palaces of the living. Each tier of the ziggurat has crypts cut into its sides where black-glazed urns rest on altars of diorite, receiving sacrifices of incense, grain and blood. The royal family claims the higher tiers and crowning spire. The sacred ziggurat enables the dead to visit their tombs when mortals sacrifice to them, and so advise their heirs.
---------------
Dean Shomshak

Quite a few years ago, well-known gaming author Steve Perrin posted to these forums several expansions to his classic Champions villain group, VOICE. One was a full Fourth Edition write-up for a mentalist assassin code-named Dreamer, whose powers derive from a helmet:
 
Background
London-born Henry Dilsworthy was a dreamy child. His parents would give him chores to do and return to find him sleeping. After beatings, counseling, and amateur attempts at aversion therapy, they took him to a doctor who suspected that their son was afflicted with narcolepsy. He sent the young man to a specialist in this strange disorder.
The specialist secured their cooperation in an experiment with his new dream-inducer, which would force the narcoleptic mind into dreams which would use up the patient's "sleep energy" and force him into longer periods of wakefulness.
Henry found in the machine a focus for his dreams. In fact, he found that the crude device let him form the dreams he wanted to dream. More, as the doctor improved the device, Henry found he could induce dreaming in others! Finally, as he sought to send nightmares to old playmates who taunted him about his continual napping, he found that his dreams could kill.
Always surly and vindictive, Henry was delighted. So was the doctor, who had been in the employ of VOICE all along. Henry found himself one of the highest paid assassins in the world, and he loves every minute of it. Now, if he could just shake the narcolepsy...
 
 
DREAMER.doc

One of the Champions Online player community, who goes by "jaazaniah1," posited a most intriguing character concept, "Synthoid Sorcerer." I'll let him explain it:
 
First, the SG I belong to (Project Attalus) is basically just all my heroes and the concept I have for the robot magic user is that two of its members, Dr. Harlem (think African-American Tony Stark) and Sultanus the Crimson Sorcerer (think a stage magician who is really Dr. Strange) had a debate about whether magical abilities (not someone wielding an object imbued with magical properties) were a result of nature or nurture (i.e. inherent to organic life, or something that could be learned, whether the practitioner was organic or not) and set out to test this (if an elevator lifts Thor's hammer is it worthy of his power?).
 
So, Dr. Harlem created a robot with real sentience and Sultanus set out to teach it magic. Synthoid Sorcerer thus studied magic (i.e. he posses no magical talismans or the like) and has mastered all the technical aspects of spell casting (and more quickly than any human could, since he has a computer mind). I.e. he adopts the right postures, makes the right hand movements, says the right words and has the correct mental state that any human mage would adopt. One might say that the only difference is that he has no soul (or does he ?), and so can not be tempted by the dark side. Technically he knows the difference, and since he was built and taught by heroes his natural leanings are toward the light, though he is guided also by a sort of cold, calculating machine logic.
 
So, he is a science/magic experiment by two human authorities in their respective fields. Some wonder, given the greater than human speed at which he can learn and act, if he might someday supersede all human magicians.
 
The question that Dr. H and Sultanus wrestle with is, indeed, whether magic is like Chess or Go, something that a machine can learn and master by being able to calculate quickly vast numbers of possible outcomes, or is there something more intuitive, even spiritual to magic? Can an object with no soul be a sorcerer? Or, is it a mix of both, can a machine learn the basics of magic (e.g. its grammar) and eventually come to be able to grasp its deepest intricacies (e.g. can it write great literature), or will an AI always be no more than some "hedge wizard"? Even if the latter, since Synthoid Sorcerer is self aware, does it have the capacity to evolve itself and develop those higher capacities? Only time, and level 40, can say for sure!
 

Angry Librarian Tells Off Right-Wing Pro-Censors

As many as the GM wants, of course!
 
But I would prefer just one, to keep a distinctive style.
 
Example: Fencing. If you've seen The Golden Voyage of Sinbad, remember the scene where Tom Baker brings the statue of Kali to life as a six-armed golem armed with swords, fighting Sinbad's whole crew at once? Or if a big stone statue seems like it ought to have 40+ STR, how about a cockpunk robot fencer with a rapier, or Darth Maul's two-bladed lightsaber?
 
But this classification does not require actual Martial Arts as a game mechanic. It just means the character principally fights HTH but doesn't depend on raw STR for damage. Like, say, an ungodly fast robot -- hey, let's add the Kali golem's six arms, just for fun -- but each hand delivers a powerful electrical shock when it hits.
 
Dunno if the CU has any technologists who would build anything so fanciful, but I could see Zorran the /Artificer building magitech constructs like this.
 
ADDENDUM: Ah! Now I know. Doctor Crandall Herzog, later to become the Overbrain. He used to supply technical services to various criminal and terrorist groups and secret government programs. If somebody paid him to build robot martial artists, he'd shrug, take their money, and do it. I dare say he was a bit wackadoodle even before becoming a disembodied brain.
 
Dean Shomshak

Thorn was among at least a dozen characters I thought were iffy between Mutant and Weird Science; to be rigorous, I could have restricted the Mutant category to characters who actually had the Distinctive Feature, "Mutant." But then what of cases like Medusa of PSI, who is called out as having a latent mutation, but it wasn't strong enough to give her powers or (still) be detectable by "Mutant Detectors"? So I ended up putting characters in one category or another based on how their descriptions seemed shaded. Thorn's description explicitly mentions plant DNA and that it "altered his cellular structure," so I filed him as a mutate. But I am very much trying to impose order on chaotic data and create categories that are more distinct than the characters I place in them.
 
I also admit to a personal Psychological Complication (Uncommon, Strong): I intensely dislike "Distinctive Features: Mutant" and the attendant handy-dandy "Mutant Detector." Especially since it creates a binary distinction out of a condition that entries such as Medusa says is a spectrum. So I am not inclined to treat the Distinctive Feature as the final word.
 
For Mutants/Mutates and Weird Science, though, I don't think moving characters back and forth would alter the overall spread very much. Maybe a few less Martial Artists and Mentalists in Mutants (goodbye Medusa and Pantera, for instance) and placing them in Weird Science. But in neither class of characters do any power types seem bizarrely out of proportion.
 
ADDENDUM: And what is the mutant detector detecting in a "natural" mutant, that isn't there in someone given powers be, say, Teleios, or the latent mutation strengthened by the Psi Serum? I know, I know, it's really all magic. But to me it seems not well thought out. It pushes my willing suspension of disbelief too far.
 
Dean Shomshak