Duke Bushido

They probably added the berry because all the non-demis were tired of doing this:

Martin Power was a reluctant hero by accident: I knew (and still mostly do) know diddly/squat (bonus points for naming the reference) about comic books in general and superhero comic books in particular. He was my first character, and I had sense enough to take a back seat and be lead by the other players until I had a rough handle on the tropes. This was handled in-game by the character being not so much a loner (s loners suck in a group game), but reluctant to take the lead or be in the limelight, etc. It worked out reasonably well, and still allowed a lot of opportunities to develop the character as a character instead of a tactical piece. For whatever reason, both the GM and the other players thoroughly enjoyed _the person_ Martin Power became- the background, the personality, the way he thought and conducted himself. Frankly, I don't think he was exceptional: I think most any of them could have done the same, were they not busy exploring two or three characters per campaign or if they had leaned a bit harder into the roleplaying of any one of their characters-- not that they were bad roleplayers, but they would get bored with concept or unhappy with some aspect of the character and take a do-over. I didn't. Not that I _wouldn't_ have, but I didn't have (and still don't, realistically) have a handle on the genre, etc, so I focused on role play and learninf the ropes in a way that they sisnt and didn't have to. As time went by, I was repeatedly pressed into continuing the character, even after I was ready for aomething else. I am generally a team-player, so I would capitulate. Put shortly, the other players enjoyed the _character_ of Martin Power so much that they would repeatedly request that I use him. If you compare only the characters of Martin Power as shown in this thread to rhe character of, say, Maximum, you will notice that Hazel isn't really as fully-realized a character: while he hs some things that would be fun to explore- personality and background hooks both-- the character in places substitues characture for character. I would like to think I am competent enough with a pen that it doesnt show at first blush, but if you look for it, it's there, whereas Power is more of a complete person, making decisions and acting-- and _thinking_ in ways that are at times at odds with his overall concept, but very much in keeping with the person he is. This is because I played Hazel for roughly one summer, twice a week, and the campaign was an action extravaganza. There was role-playing and character development, but it was mostly on the surface, and the drive was always getting to the next battle, having the next fight, and sinking the big master villain before class started again in the fall and gaming would be a monthly thing again. Once I got into the groove of things, Power was a lot of fun to play-- right up until he wasn't. My friends loved him; I was asked to bring him to campaign after campaign after campaign. The problem was while the other members of my group were prepping their thirtieth character, _I was still dumping XPs into the very first character I had ever made_, for roughly twenty years. No; not kidding. We joke from time to time about how Superman just doesn't work as a team character-- even the recent movie where the super friends team up to do battle against Bull from Night Court-- it is only exciting before Superman shows up, then it gets easy. Anything that slows down Superman kills everyone else. The solution is to have Superman take a bank seat until nothing else works. That_ was where I ended up with Power: either he was reluctant, or he was a flaming chainsaw in a world of tissue paper. Fortunately, he had started that way, so it kind of worked to stay that way. Maximum isn't particularly reluctant, though: he's clueless. He has spent his formarive years as a target for bullying, even- if not cruelly-intended- from his own brothers. It has an effect: that _is_ his mind set, and his go-to natural reactions, in spite of himself. I had created him in the hopes of not only trying something new and different (boisterous and possibly obnoxious on the outside; confused and dighting his own fear on the inside) and growing this character to become comfortable with himself, and to be able to see the silent need in those around him-- to recognize it from his own experience. Unfortunately, I never really had the opportunity; once that campaign concluded, the friend that invited me and I were back to our regular group (e weren't waiting for a once-a-month game back then! Ha!), and I had to put the Martin suit back on. I _begged_ my friends to let me retire him; begged my GM to kill him off. Everyone was kind of surprised, and I wished I had done it a decade or more before: once they took a moment to really listen to my situation from the _inside_, they were all happy to let me retire him: he "disappeared" during an event in our universe known as "Seven Day." The GM refused to kill him off, though; I have another GM to thank for that blessing when our first GM left and he took over (brieflt; he wasnt cut out for that sise of the screen). They _did_ request that I play another brick, though. 😕 That resulted in Rook, a character I tied in to Seven Day (a then-recent and possibly the most significant event in our universe) thus grounding her into our universe. She was as opposite Power as I could get while still being a brick: a reasonable power level, outgoing, warm, and she _loved_ being a hero and helping people. Outspoken, witty, and under-educated. I have to say that she was probably one od my favorite characters of all time (I have had many others, but I really enjoyed Rook). There was nothing reluctant about her. There was nothing reluctant about Freight Train, either, though he was a villain (there was a thread here a while back; I am pretty sure that if you play Champions long enough, you end up trying a villain campaign). I enjoyed Freight Train _immensely, but it is no secret that I have a soft spot for non-godlike speedsters. Actually, there was nothing _reluctant_ about Maximum; it just took him some time to realize that he _could_ be a hero: he had chased the ninja theif even knowing in his heart that it would end badly for him, and even tried to help him when it was obviously too late. The idea of being a superhero, though, was so far from who he knew himself to be at that point in his life that he had to have a bit of time to really accept it, to accept that his amazing new body was really his. Actually, I _suspect_ that a lot of what you might see as reluctance is me coming from my "don't really grok superheroes" point of view: If I woke up tomorrow with incredible strength and stamina, my first thought, realistically, would be that this develpment might allow me to work a third job, or a better second job at least, and to be able to do more, faster, around the house, or that maybe there was a way to make money exhibiting these abilities-- Spiderman taking to the wrestling ring for quick and easy cash? From my point of view here in the real world, that makes him the most realistic superhero of all time. Iron Man building a power suit to take revenge on his captors and reclaim _his_ stuff? I get it: I can do all things through spite, which strengthens me. At any rate: I did not grow up with superheroes; they are not real. If someone was to get superpowers in this real world, how do they react? What push does it take to leave your familiar and do something that can get you killed? What goes on in your head? That is the way I approach these characters: sure, super powers happen to some people, but not me. That can't be what this! .... can it..?

Sorry; no post last night: it was Hammerhead's birthday. He is now sixteen, and we gorged on Sushi.... Apparently we can eat a "sushi combo for three." Each.

STUN is sufficient for this; we used hit locations for this campaign (from and gritty tone), and this was l, honestly, more a chance to add a bit of chance and play with the locarions chart a bit. There were no additional activation costs beyond using the spell, though Body magic in general was pre-loaded, so to speak: spell was cast in advance, END /Mana paid, etc, but it requires that blow to activate (we didn't havee "trigger" back in the day).

[Once again, a glitch has cost me an hour of work, so I am backing up yet again....] Armed with the rough measures of her sitting and reaching requirements and ranges, I began to comb through memories, exposures, and technical manuals to assemble a list of older bikes that should be easy and comfortable for her to operate. It was just as as well I had suggested getting an older bike to learn on; no one has made a bike for a smaller rider in years. With that in mind, I further narrowed the list by long-term reliability. That last bit meant I had to strike one of my favorites-- the Rebel 450. They only had a 2-year production run in the mid-eighties, and most of them at this point either need or will soon need a new ECM. The last ECMs were made by a fan of the bike as a cottage industry, and he stopped (died, maybe?) fifteen years or more ago. As always for a new rider of _any_ size, I started with the venerable 250 Rebel, and as always _from_ a new rider, it was shot down immediately. There is a pervasive conceit amongst new or potential riders that they will quickly outgrow a 250, or a 400, or anything under full-quart, and so they dismiss them even before understanding the recommendation. First off, it takes two years of focused practice- not just a quick spin, but focused practice- at least twice a week to develop anything resembling real skill. Because there is nothing more forgiving that the 250 Rebel (even the rare 250 Ninja has more of the 'too bad you made a mistake' cruelty of a more typical sportbike), this means that the Rebel 250 really is a sort of shortcut to gaining genuine skill. Yet people shoot it down, even when shown the insanely low insurance costs, the almost-never maintenance requirements, the 80+ mpg attainable, and my very old speeding ticket for doing 84 mph on one (to be fair, I really had to _work_ to get it that fast, it was absolutely topped out, and I was taking advantage of both a long slope and a strong tailwind, and drafting ridiculously close behind a semi truck. Most riders can expect the little 233cc engine to peak around 62 mph under normal conditions), they still spout such nonsense as "I will outgrow it too quickly" and "I want to be able to keep up with my friends--" So let's settle this: Outgrowing is a matter of skill. When you skill allows you to safely and casually do things the bike you are on will not do. It is going to take a minimum of two years of _focused practice_ to get there on _any_ bike. Rebel 250 motorcycles _routinely_ sell for the same price you paid for it, so long as you haven't done additional damage to it or made poorly-consisered modifications (like loud exhaust, "chopping" or "bobbing" anything, or spray painting it). It really is the perfect first bike for anyone who can fit on it (pretty much anyone under 6'4", if you aren't worried about looking like a circus bear on a bicycle), and any "friend" worthy of the name is not going to run off and abandon you. Still, the answer is always "it's too small; I will outgrow it too quickly." Considering as how, over the years, I have owned thirteen of them, I _will_ call you out on this, but ultimately, I am not the one buying your bike, so... My next favorite suggestions are the 450 Rebel,and,rhe Kawasaki KZ440 up through the KZ550, but I have shied away from those the last twenty years because parts availability is non-existent any more. Parts _bikes_ aren't easy to find anymore, either. Anyway, I put together a list of of a dozen potential bikes to scout for. In the meantime, Michelle practiced a bit on my daughter's VTX and my son's VLX, but, fearing a mishap on someone else's machine, she didn't do much. A few weeks went by, and I would get a call asking about my opinion on a particular bike, but generally there were strong reasons to shoot it down. Why is it so hard for people to grasp that "ran when parked" means "doesn't run now, and we don't know why"? We missed a few good choices: once by price (the seller wouldn't budge the 150 bucks Rojo and Michelle needed to afford it), but mostly by time: the deal was good, and the bike was fone by the time they found the ad.

Wow. That is a well-armed Toyota Turd he's driving.

Hadn't really looked, but if they want a smash hit, they should recycle the dancing donkeys.

Well of,course they are. I mean, honestly: they've been in the shelves since August. Time for then to _go_! Gotta make room for swimwear coming next week.

Thanks; intersting information! Make it a Cord and I am _sold_! Man, those things we're _gorgeous_! Still, the Doozie _was_ a fast machine, kitted out properly. One of the best things about the Deusenberg was the surprising amount of ground clearance, even under the roadsters. Plenty of room to the a couple of suitcases _under_ the car... Or maybe an unconscious woman, strapped to a plank to keep her from dragging the road.... You know how it is: _start_ with excitement, then just go nuts!

To get to the bottom of this, we have to go back a couple of weeks, but before doing that, we have to go back about six months or so, because it was about six months ago that a coworker and friend approached me with some questions and a request. Since they were the same guy, it didnt eat up a lot of time. "Duke..." "Yeah, Rojo; what's up?" "You ride motorcycles. Sometimes you teach people to ride motorcycles. You're teaching Nate right now, and Little Scott (as opposed to Big Scott, Tall Scott, and Other Scott) asks you for mechanical advice for working on his bike." "T-Bone gets a few quesrions in on wrench bending, too." "What are your qualifications to teach someone how to ride? I mean, I _know_ you can ride; a lot of people can ride, and a lot of people teach other people how to ride, and even, if the guy that taught them jas been riding for twenty years, ... Well, bad things happen." "Yes; bad things happen because you are not the only person on the road. That, and most people aren't taught the right things. Just because you know geometry doesnt mean you can teach it to someone else. Worse, if you dont know geometry, you cant properly teach someone how to ride a bike." "Wha- Hunh? Geometry?" "Romo, even _today_ the intro MSF course mentions the principles of steering a motorcycle aren't well-understood. That's crap. They make perfect sense if you understand geometry. If you don't, then you teach your students 'motorcycles are steered by magic, and if things go sideways, you can always hope for a big puff of magic to save you.' Does that really seem like you are teaching anyone anything?" "So how does it work?" "Geometry. Motorcycles are just like any other vehicle: they steer from the rear." Rojo chuckled a bit. "You mean front." "No; I mean rear, and not understanding that is why the right rear rim on your car is scuffed up so bad." "So how does it work?" "Cars or bikes?" "Bikes." "The rake of the forks as compared to the angle of the downtube and the trail of the axle." "I don't understand." "The forks are angled a bit; the dont go straight down. The angle helps them resist input from the road and helps the bike to feel stable. However, they aren't angled a lot. The upshot is that when you give thr bars a push- turn them one way or another- the steering neck-- the forward-most part of the frame, through which the fork clamps are pinned and where the clamps rotate when you steer-- is pushed a very small amount to one side of center or the other. The frame is now pointing just a little bit to one direction, which changes the direction of the rear wheel, and makes the bike turn." "Seriously?" "Yes. That is why the actual instructional courses call it 'counter-steering:' you turn the bars a bit to the left to turn the bike a bit to the right, and vice-versa." "But What about leaning...?" "Totally unnecessary." "But I always thought-" "Yes; and so do a lot of other people, and they teach even more people, and those people believe them because 'well, ol' Bubba's a-been a-ridin' for nigh on twenty years-" "How long have You been riding, Duke?" "My brothers, cousins, and I got our first bike when we were nine. Some took to it; some didn't. I took to it like stupid to a middle-manager. I haven't been without at least one bike ever since." "How old are you now?" "Sixty-three." "Dang! That's..." his eyes rolled,up toward some invisible calculator. "Almost fifty years-" "It helps if You know math, too, especially if you plan to bend your own wrenches." "So what are your qualifications to teach how to ride a motorcycle?" In terms of riding experience, I started riding off-road at nine years old. I did it every chance I got. I even raced off road for several years, from the time I was 14 up until I was 32. Without a "seniors" class, I had no real chance of remaining competitve after about 25 or 26, but it took a few years to accept that. "I started street riding at 14, because it was legal when I turned 14. I don't think any agency in this country outside the tax collector's office has ever considered bikes to be real vehicles. I started drag racing at 16, because that was the minimum age for the tracks I raced at. I did that up until I turned 44, when I just couldn't afford the non-stop repairs and constant consumption of engines. Drag bikes don't last long. "I did some track racing, but not much, since the seasons overlapped offroad and drag racing. "When I was 24, I became an MSF riding instructor for beginning riders, and a couple years later, I passed certification for advanced rider training. I kept my certifications up until I met my wife twenty-three years ago. If I had a free afternoon or weekend, I wanted to spend it with her. Truthfully, though, I was getting kind of tired of the increasing percentages of idiots wanting to learn how to ride thanks to that cable channel with all the ludicrous chopper crap on it. Every class had become four guys that really wanted to learn, two women that really wanted to learn, and fifteen morons that were already too dangerous on foot. "In 1988, I was tapped to train motorcycle officers for the city I lived in at the time before their funding fell through (which was just after they bought two gorgeous KZ1000i police bikes in full kit). In short, I am _reasonably_ qualified to instruct riders. While I still do teach private, non-certified classes to individuals and small groups, I quit doing professional instruction for a number of reasons, the biggest of which was people listening less and less to instruction and assuming they were ready for racing techniques after successfully learning to shift but before they even understood the concept of threshold braking." He looked at me and thought about the things I said. It was pretty clear that he, like the majoritiy of people, had never even considered that there might be such a thing as extensive formal training for motorcycle riding. "So what's up, Rojo? You want me to teach you how to ride?" "No; no-no-no-no. Not me." It was my turn to be confused. "Not me. My wife." "Your wife?" "Mm-hmm." "Not you?" I was a bit surprised. "Really?" "No; it's not my thing. But Michelle; she wants to ride. She asked if I knew anyone who could teach her, and I said I thought I did. There's a woman at her work that rides, too. She says she could ask her if I couldn't find anyone." I had to think about this. I have been teaching people how to ride for decades. This was the absolute first time I had ever even heard of a wife who wanted to ride and a husband who didn't. No; that's not accurate. It was the first time I had ever seen a husband who clearly wanted nothing to do with it, but still being okay with his wife riding. It was so... _odd_ that I was almost scares to say 'yes.' So, I hedged: "This woman at her job: do you know her?" "No." "Have you seen her ride?" "A little." "Do you know what makes good technique and bad technique?" He looked just a bit embarrases, even though there was absolutely no reason to be. "No." "I am going to level with you, Rojo. This is a first for me. I don't have another student right now, so it's kind of awkward doing a one-on-one with a woman and no chaperone. You _will_ be available, right?" "No; I work two jobs, like you. But it's okay. I trust you. I have known you for five years. I know you're not going to do anything but teach her how to ride. I trust you." "Well, I appreciate that, and I thank you for the trust. Still, I would like to check out this woman at her job." He gave me his wife's number, and we arranged for her to call me the nexr time the other potential teacher rode her bike to work. Ten days later, I was sitting in the park in lot at Michelle's job, watching her talk to this other woman at the end of their work day. She pointed at me (I had brought a helmet and gear ostensibly to give Michelle a ride home) and walked over. The other woman followed. Michelle introduced us back and forth and we talked bikes for a few minutes. The Valkyrie is something of a conversation piece, _especially_ amongst two groups of people: those who know exaclty what it is and thise who don't know much about motorcycles at all, mechanically. There are a shocking number of people who just assume that all non-sportbikes are V-Twins, and those folks are always curious about the Valk. "Good God! Is that engine from a _car_? What kind of engine is that?" "Damned big. It's a small category, filled with variants of this engine." Then we go and talk for a few. I casually steered the conversation toward gear, technique, and more than just big engines and stylish bikes. We talked for twenty minutes or so, when I looked at Michelle and said "We have to get a move on; I have somewhere to be in an hour." The other woman left, walked toward her bike, and started strapping on her helmet. She was riding an older DynaGlide (though I suppose at this point, _any_ Dyna is an older Dyna), which to me was sort of a 'strike against.' It suggested she had done no real research into her bike. Certainly one can argue that she bought the best bike she could afford, but the fact is that there are much better bikes for much less money, which shoots the economy model in the foot. (Anyone who doesn't understand my complaints is urged to look up "Dyna Death Wobble" for more info. There are several cures, from cheap and easy to complex and correct, but none were evident here.) So far: a motorcycle known to be unsafe, with no nods towards addressing the problem. A novelty helmet- ie, a plastic pan with some foam padding and a chin strap. It doesn't really matter that it wont stay in place in the event of an accident, simply because it offered just as much protection at home on the front porch as it did on her head. She fired up her bike, and the exhaust was deafening. She played throttle monkey for a few minutes (rather than adjust the choke. Much cooler to rap the throttle over and over, you see), then finally picked up one foot, dropped the bike into first, and then _set that foot back down_... After a couole additional gratuitous raps on the throttle, she eased out the clutch and rolled in some throttle and _skied_ across the parking lot. She never put either foot on the pegs. She stopped at the road, head-checked thrice (at least _that_ was correct), and _skied_ out in a left and onto the road. Niether foot went to a perch until she was running easily ten miles an hour. With her out of sight, I took off my helmet so I could talk to Michelle. (I dont wear a full-face helmet- severely claustrophobic- but I _do_ wear a 3/4 helmet, and as I have noted elsewhere, my hearing isnt what it used to be, "How long has that woman been riding?" "I think about two years. She said her ex taught her shortly after they started dating." "Michelle, if you listen to _anything_ that woman tells you about riding, you are going to get hurt very, _very_ badly. Maybe not today; probably not tomorrow. But you will, without the slightest chance of a doubt, get hurt." "What do you mean?' Watch. Get on, and pay attention." She mounted the way I told her to mount. I put my helmet back on, stood the bike up, started it, and adjusted the choke. I eased it off steadily as the bike warmed. I pulled the clutch in and dropped it into first, put my left foot back down and put my right foot immediately up onto the peg and the rear brake. "Do you see a difference here?" "Not Really" she said honestly. "That's okay. We can go over it later. Are you ready?" I got a glimpse of something in the right mirror. "I can't hear you not, Ma'am." "I'm ready." "Okay. First, we are going to load a bit of torque into the drame and suspension. Not much! Just enough to hold us upright until we get moving. Are you ready?" "Yes, Sir." I eased off rhe clutch and the rear brake just a bit, and the suspension squatted just enough to feel. "And now we are going to move" I called out loud enough that her young ears should have no trouble hearing me. With that, I picked up my foot while increasing the toeque load in the frame then easing off both brakes, and glass smooth, we were off. We wound our way in nice crisp turns through the parking lot and soon found yourself at the exit onto the road. I stopped, pushed the bars right, and put down only my left foot while doing a triple head-check. Then I repeated the take off process-- foot up before moving-- and we were off. We made a few turns and twists on the surface streets, then I turned around and took her back to the parking lot. I don't know if it was natural aptitude, previous practice, or her diminutive five-foot frame, but she was an exceptional passenger. We parked at the far end of the lot, where she had parked her car, out of view of the main portion of the lot, and talked a bit about the prooer and improper (and downright dangerous!) techniques that her friend and I had displayed, why certain things were important and certain things (like skiing) were incredibly dangerous. Finally, we got to the point: "have You talked to anyone else about teaching you?" "Well, you and her and one other guy are the only people I know that ride. The other guy- Nate B-- he said he was only just learning, and didnt feel comfortable teaching someone-" "That's right. I have spent about twelve weeks with him; he's my most recent student. He is at a point where I cannot effectively teach him anything else until he gets some actual practice under his belt. He's smart enough to know he shouldn't be teaching someone." There was a pregnant pause. "So... Will you teach me, Mr Duke?" "I am willing, but I want you, me, and Rojo to get together and _really_ talk about this. First, it takes a time commitment, a big one. Second, you are _going_ to get hurt. There is no other way to do this: anyone who tells you that you can get through learning without dumping you bike-- _a lot_-- is either lying to you, or they have never learned their limits. That makes them and everything they tell you dangerous, because they haven't tested themselves to their limits or the limits of their bike. I need you _both_ to understand that you are _going_ to get hurt, period. Usually, it's bruises and scrapes, but there can be serious cuts, even broken bones. It's _very_ rare, but it _can_ happen, and I need to know that _both_ of you understand that." "I understand." I winked and smiled. "Everyone says that, Ma'am. But it still surprises the Hell out of them when it happens." "Yes, Sir." "Get with your husband. Talk about this. If he is okay with it, we will get together and discuss It, and we will go over appropriate safety gear to minimize the danger to you and all that sort of thing." She looked extremely excited., "thank you, Mr. Duke! I really, really appreciate it!" "Hold on, Missy. We have some other problems. One, I am not certain that I have a bike that you manage-" "I'm pretty strong-" "That's good; it makes picking the bike up easier. Unfortunately, it doesn't help you reach what you need to reach." She instantly looked worried. "Don't worry," I said, grabbing my tape measure off of my belt. "As soon as I get your hip-to-shoulder, shoulder-to-wrist, and your inseam measurements, I will start puttinf together a list of older bikes that will fit or can be easily modified to fit you." Obiediently, she popped into a standing spread eagle-- "Uh... No, Ma'am." I handed her the take measure. "I want you to take this home with you. Rojo can help get your hip-to-shoulder, and you can measure a shirt and a pair of pants to get the others. Send the tape measure back to me with Rojo tomorrow." It's okay. I don't mind. I get measured all the time for wrestling-" Michelle, I appreciate that, but here is the thing: _I_ mind, because _I_ am not comfortable with it, and that is because it is _unnecessary_ since there are easily-achieved non-personal space violating means to get what we need. I am more comfortable with that, okay?" While she didn't seem particularly stressed before, she still managed to look relieved at that, and fell into a more normal stance. "Thank You," she said sheepishly. I got the feeling that getring measured for wrestling might have more than once been more... invasive... than was strictly necessary. I hate people. More importantly, people like that are the reason I am not comfortable doing _any_ personal space violation if I can help it. She took the tape measure, smiled, we shook hands, and she seemed to float all the way to her car. I fired up the bike and headed home.

I don't know of it helps, but I have a fantasy campaign (on and off) in which many barbarian tribes use a type of magic referred to as "body magic." One of the spells is Blood Sword" (or Blood Axe or Blood Spear). Essentially it is HKA, physical manifestation, and requires a cutting arm wound dekivered by an opponent (all things to make it difficult to use, get the price down, and prevent someone from being unarmed while not relying on it as a primary weapon) with the side effect that it costs 1 Body to,activate and reduces REC by 1 while it is active. Again- don't know if it helps, but the shoet version is the build doesnt have to be any more complicated than you want it to be.

Well, I did say "practice" in the thread title, so... I am going to do something I haven't done a lot of recently- well,_two_ things I havent done a lot of recently: I am going to get a little writing practice in, and I am going to relate a recent event- last weekend, in fact. As is my custom for relating real-life events, all names but my own have been changed for the privacy of everyone involved (No one wants any sort of proof they know me, really. ) I did not go in to work Monday. This is extremely unusual for me- I am not a workaholic or any such thing, but I very much enjoy eating food and sleeping indoors, so it's just better if I don't miss any work that I don't have to miss. My phone rang about one-thirty Monday afternoon. It was on the little table by the couch, where my wife was sitting. She grabbed it up, looked at it, turned to me an announced "it's your brother" in a teasing and not-especially-helpful kind of way. (I have several brothers, some of whom are still alive and therefore able to make phone calls every now and again.) She tossed the phone to me so that I did not have to dight my way out of the broken recliner that we all pretend is still a very comfortable place to sit and rest and relax because the long-term damage to our joints and posture is far less immediately-expensive than replacing it. Besides, it has aged to a nice pinkish color that clashes equally with all the other furnishings, so it's not all bad, right? It doesn't really matter how prepares you are, or how well you gaurd yourself, unless you are standing, anything my wife tosses to you is going to hit you dead in the testicles. You could be napping, curled up into the fetal position, beneath a full sheet of plywood, and it won't help a bit. It is one of her very few less-endearing talents. I picked up the phone, coughed rhe screeching out of my voice, and answered. "Hey, D-! What can I do to you?" Yeah; I know it is worn completely out, but at this point, between the two of us, it is something of a tradition, "Hey Duke! I will be leaving Atlanta in a bit and I have to come right by Vidalia. What time do you get off?" "As luck would have it, I am off right now." "Really?" "Yeah; I didn't go in today." "What? You okay? You sick? Is it your back?" K looked at me from the couch with a "Oh, this oughta be good" look on her face. Apparently, I have a tell... "Believe it or not, my back is pretty good" I started, though a couole of hours in the recliner were doing everything in their power to chamge that. "My ankles are swollen and took tender to walk on, my hips have a dull throbbing ache, and my upper arms are still on fire, by back is pretty good!" "Good God, man! What happened?" I spent seven very strenuous hours at a South Carolina motel with a gorgeous twenty-six-year_old woman." "What?!!" Then the phone was gone- snatched away as if by magic. K was standing next to me, turning away from me, with the phone in her hand. "Okay, D; while your jackass of a brother _is_ 'the best kind of correct,'" she interrupted, referencing an old television gag that we- all three of us- loved and use when any opportunity presents itself, "it's not like it sounds. You know who he is." "Yes." The earpiece doesn't work well on my phone anymore, and my hearing isn't what it used to be, so my phone stays on speaker. Remember that if you ever want to call me and spread gossip. "But I also know who he _was_ before he met you, and that makes this... more believable than it should be." "Yeah!" She snorted-- a reaction that is baffling in light of the usual sexy huskiness of her velvety lounge singer voice. Her laugh is shockingly incongruous. "He's sixty three with a bad heart and the beginnings of a belly to match that Santa Clause beard!" "_Sexy_ Santa!" I defended myself, poorly. "Well, _yeah_," D continued, "but he _is_ just dumb enough-" "_Sexy_ Santa!" I repeated, louder, because that makes it... better? Somehow? "Anyway, hi, D. It's nice to hear from you. Here's your brother back" she finished, and tossed the phone toward me,behind her back. I panicked and reach for it, missed, and it landed edge-first straight in the usual spot. Lefty was catching a beating today. I scooped up the phone. "Anyway, as I was saying-" "I am _not_ calling you Sexy Santa." D said curtly. "Nobody does!" K yelled in agreement from the hallway. "Anyway," I resumed to the phone. "Feel free to drop by-" "Nah... I think I'll wait till mid-January or so." "Why?" "That's when you stop grooming your beard for that Santa look, right?" "Usually, yeah, but-" "Hey; this is on you! I have watched you play Santa for years, but Brother, I don't think I can wash 'Sexy Santa' out of my brain without... I don't know: direct peroxide injections or something. Anyway, tell K and the kids I said 'hi,' and that I am really sorry I called.."

Yep. I used to have the same,bag of "dinosaurs" when I was a kid. I think Scott Ruggles still has one or two. All I can tell you for certain is they had English and Japanese witing on them; they were labeled "dinosaur," and if you ever had them, the first time you saw the picture of the Bullette- however it's spelled-- you recognized every one of the early D and D monsters as coming from that same set of "dinosaurs." Except the Beholder. I have no idea what sort of LSD-and-weed nightmare that came from....

Yep. It's then big ol' feets and the fact that they dont typically run anywhere until they want to murder something.

If it helps: Many, many years ago- back in the days of Sega Genesis- I had a player in a fantasy game who wamted to emulate a character from the video game Samurai Showdown. Specifically, the ninja with the dog. We built the dog as an RKA, indirect, continuous, and added a couple of details such as cutting the range in half and figuring range based on the location of the last attack (dog runs from one target to the next) and a custom limitation that managing to "grab" the "dog" dispelled the attack (we had Fantasy HERO, but we didn't have "Restrainable" or "physical manifestation" way back then). We knocked down the orice of Indeoendant by about a quarter (if I recall) by declaing that it xould only be used against targets who were "accessible to a German shepherd" or some such thing.

Well obviously it's grizzly,bear that you cant sneak up on like you usually would....

Indirect is your friend here. So is Continuous. The rest is special effects.

Did anyone else briefly see a wolf-asaurus? Or a croco-stimpy? No? Just me? Really?

Thanks, but in all honesty, I didn't have a television until the mid-80s. I dont think I have ever seen it.

I tend to treat them,initially,the same,way I would build such a character for a supers game, then scale back to something that works within the constraints of power and presumed tech level of the campaign. I dont know if that os particularly helpful, but it might grease the wheels a bit.

You remind me of an event was back in the 8ps at the Rec Center on Fort Stewart: eleven of us were rollinf,up me,characters in front of the GM (GM insisted, and as a fan or Is no Array, I was only too happy to oblige). He _did_ allow players to either accept it as is, or to swap their highest result with the lowest result (onlt guy I have ever seen offer that). We,all,watched with great amusement as one od 4he military guys presenr rolled six straight 12s dor his characteristics. Something else I have never seen since.

Agreed. GURPS Old West (second or third edition is fine: same book; different covers) really is _the_ definitive sourcebook on the genre from a gaming perspective.

My apologies, folks! I had no intention to abandon the discussion, but I confess: after spending 40 minutes working out a reply on thia accursed touch screen, some glitch or other popped a message- "an error has occurred" then the site reloaded and poof! It was all gone. I kinda sorta rage quit and went to bed. Anyway, onward! You are quite right, Sir; you did not. I made an assumption based on your couching of your comments. Remembering that you were commenting about the difficulty a magic-wielding character would have as buying spells would handicap his ability to buy things that would stack him equally against other types of characters, etc-- I believe that you can see why I might have drawn that conclusion. Still, mea culpa; ego paenitet in plena: tu es omnino excusari. Okay, I wanted "exonerated," but I haven't practiced Latin in a few decades now. If anyone know the proper word, I will edit it in where "excused" is serving as a placeholder. But, as the conversation has been fun so far, let's get back to it! Agreed. But if one special sort of expenditure is unusually costly, then there may be a genuine handicap: if someone designs their world so that spells are- say ten points each, or twenty points each, or- well, as you see: the more expensive spells are- or even the more individualized and unique they are, which would require a larger number of spells.... Well, obviously, a guy swinging a garden rake is going to come out well ahead in cost and possibly even utility. But if all expenditures are more or less equal, then there isn't really any handicap or disadvantage: it is no more different than choosing to spend points on CON instead of CV, or END instead of REC, of Forensics instead of Security Systems: both characters had equal access, made rhe same number of decisions, spent roughly the same amount of points, and have roughly the same amount of points left. Nothing lopsided or unfair in that. He doesn't Or that And sweet Deity on a Stick, does he not have to do that. As before, to continue this discussion and keep it on topic, I would prefer to avoid anything related to Martial Arts; that really does require an entirely different and very involved conversation just to establish a baseline from which to start. Staying to this conversation, though, every single one of these "must haves" is entirely up to the GM when he designs the world: what is absolutely necessary, etc, and not so much the law of the rules. In fact, Skill Levels can do everything all of these "must haves" do, and even skill levels are not mandatory. An excellent idea, to be sure, but not mandatory. The GM decides if he will require them for whatever reasons (honestly, in heroic-level games, I have always considered a lot of "mandatory" familiarise and the like to be simple point sucks, which- well, handicaps anyone required to buy them if there are other equally-valid character concepts who are not required to buy these things, then yeah; that guy is getting a bit shafted. Or, circling back around: agreed. Oops- I jumped the gun with the previous reply. You are correct: spend points on one thing, you sont have them to spend gain elsewhere. That is the nature of points-buy systems: enforced uniqueness because most folks will have a favorite thing for their concept that will take points from their available total, and rather than copy identically an effective build, they spend the rest of the build compensating for whatever hit they took getting their main item or items. But the size of the hit, again, is not a requirement laid out in the rules; it is laid out by the GM for each and every game. Yes, but again: this is a function of character generation and concept. If someone wants to build Batman, then yes; short of writer fiat, he is going to be absolutely useless in a light-speed running gun battle between Superman and I am really going to need some help coming up with a name of some Superman-level villain, but you get the point. But if your game euns through a spot of skill-heavy action, Batman is _definitely_ your guy as opposed to-- well, I have no idea again. Does Green Lantern have skills? The movie suggested no, but I really have no idea. Even then, though- at the risk of of doing the broken record thing, this isn't a rules-created situation: rhw player decided he wanted a skills-heavy or skills-light character, the GM approves it, then ran a game inappropriate for the character. There are a lot of places to lay the blame here, but the rules isnt one od them. Well I still agree: of you spend points haphazardly, you get odd results. But if you spend the points neesed to take your longbow damage to 6d6 RKA , and a magician has spent roughly the same amount to create a call-down-the-lighting spell that does 6d6 RKA, what is the problem? However, this entire thing is something of a sidetrack; I don't know that we ever visited tour original question: For what it ia worth, I am okay with it. For several years, it qas the only way we played it: we were using Champions rules- first 1e, then 2e- long before there was a Fantasy HERO; Champions was bereft any sort of money system- it didn't even hint at costs for the precioua few weapons it statted out. We totally got the "your Killing Attack could be a sword" and 'your Force Field could be magic" aspect though, and you bought those with points, so.... Compare Defenses to Defenses; Offenses to Offenses; survivability (story type; not combat type). Civilian effectiveness, etc. Not the points spent on them; not the the active points, but the numbers that matter in the game: damage done; damage resisted; ability to actually thrive in the game world, and appropriateness for any long-term plans laid out for the campaign. Those are the metrics I use when I evaluate characters for approval.

Ah, we'll then: Chris: no; I don't think it's something I care for. Thank you though (referring to Moxie). Hammerhead: yeah; it'a really hard to find. Dad uses to have to ride to Maine to get it! Chris: really? Hammerhead: yeah! Not any more, though. Chris: so where do you get it now? Hammerhead: they have it at Cracker Barrel now!" Chris: Cracker Barrel? Noisy: you know- where white people respawn. Duke: [damned near dies laughing.]

I understand what you are saying; I do. However, you are still stuck in that mindset: I don't wish to in any way appear as offensive when I say this. But doe this particular mini-conversation, I would take it as a personal favor of we just avoided any discussion of HERO's "Martial Arts System." I have a grindstone with me, obviously, but I did not bring that particular axe with me this time. Why do you feel it is mandatory that spells cost points or be expensive? That is the D and D prejudice showing through. If I have a computer programming skill, I have a chance to use any computer I encounter. What, anywhere in the HERO System Rules stops me from building a universe where the only rhing differentiating magic users from anyone else is five points of "manipulate magic" skill, allowing them the chance to use any naturslly-occuring source of magic or magic item? What, specifically, says I can't do that? What says magic has to work _any_ particular way, or that magic can't just be a pool of points that I buy from which I can build whatever spell I want? Or maybe all magic in this world comes from spell books and nowhere else, and only those who can read can wield magic? Or perhaps spells are one point each, limited only by the endurance of the caster, or a special Endurance pool-- Or, again, only those with "use magic" skill for dive points, etc. If that is how your world works, then magic weapons are just normal weapons unless wielded by a magician. (Borrwed that feom a mini campaign I ran for my son's friends: all magic comes,from music; only skilled musicians can wield it-- they are in the school band, obviously.) If you have decided that magic must cost xharacter points, that is not the rules; that is _you_. If you have decided that magic spells are bought individually and are super-HERO expensive, that is also _not_ the rules; that is _you_.