JackValhalla

Tangentially related, I had an empath who fed off the emotions of others.  This was represented as extra REC, Triggers when strong emotions were present in others nearby.  By default in combat he got the first third of the extra REC since emotions run high in dangerous situations, as long as he wasn't fighting robots or zombies without emotion.  If he was able to step on people's Psychological Complications, he got the second third of the REC.  If he managed to trigger an Enraged or Berserk, he got the full REC.  He was not allowed to manipulate emotions to generate this energy, the emotions had to occur 'naturally' or it didn't count.  He was really good a trash talking and inspiring oratory though.  The most satisfying instances of the power triggering was not when people got angry, but when they acted out of compassion or love, because from a story-line standpoint saving the day with the power of love is beautiful, but cheesy if you don't have something behind it.

Ki Lyme was a petite, green-clad martial artist with the ability to cause mildly debilitating illness in her opponents (or any one she touched). 
 
In her new diminutive size her martial arts are useless (except when other 'Mites' get too annoying), but her host is more or less continually victimized by her mysterious disease-like power, which proved difficult to diagnose, or even confirm that the symptoms are real.

The superhero Budgerigar has had a long career going back decades, and is known for three things: his endless quips that frustrate his enemies, his incredibly bad luck, and his refusal to stop heroics despite his ill fortune. He used to be known for his extensive winning streak, even against multiple enemies. That came to an end after his battle against the mad scientist Dr Shrinkblot and his henchpersons; though Budgerigar won that battle it is known to be one of the last times he got the better of his foes.
 
The reason for that is The Mite Have Beens, the henchpersons of Dr Shrinkblot that were thought to be lost forever when hit by an experimental shrinking ray. Now too small to be seen, and too small to communicate with anyone, they live on the hero's costume and feathers and cause him as much trouble as they can. They blame the feathered crimefighter for their plight, and have pledged their lives to screwing him over as much as possible. What the rest of the world believes to be Budgerigar's chronic bad luck is actually the work of the MHB creating trouble for him any way they can. The team is four members, too tiny to live any other life than this.

Bartholomew Bark was inundated with gem-filtered energy and caustic chemical infusions, drug cocktails and sleep deprivation by the scientist that created the Gem Concord inadvertently. Before being kidnapped and systematically tortured, Bartholomew was a spoiled suburb brat and budding delinquent. When his powers are active he is sheathed in a field that negates light, creating a dark aura that hugs his body. He likes to play up this darkness angle for edgelord reasons, but it does not actually factor into the rest of his powers. For those same edgelord reasons, he chose for himself the codename Jet Nasty. He is a combination mentalist / speedster, with a shockingly-fast sprint speed that keeps him well out of the reach of most enemies. His mental powers are nullification, he can shut off specific portions of someone's brain, such as vision, balance, executive function or motor control. Unlike the others, he does not need a specific type of gem to eat, but he does need to consume faceted gemstones on a regular basis. More than the others, Jet is liable to take on jobs on his own, so enchanted with super-crime and robbery that he will attempt heists that the rest of the team has turned down. Not coincidentally, he often needs to be bailed out of bad situations by his teammates.

The https://www.thesaurus.com/ is your friend.  Do we win a prize for best name?  Maybe a couple of XP Foxbat might have stashed?
 
The Cartel The Plunderbund (def: https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/plunderbund) The Consortium The Ring The Corporation The Association The Guild of Cleaners, Fixers, and Safecrackers The Enterprising Villains Involved in Larceny  The Merrymen - Especially if the villain's name is Robin the Hood (a arrow based supervillain - Might have to use this... ) Realistic Opponents of Banks, Businesses, Enterprises, and Righteous Supers.

The Superior. Shows both position and attitude.
 

The Syndicate.  A popular term used in ‘70’s TV shows when Anti Italian-American Defamation groups protested the used of the term Mafia.  
 

"The Community"
Never intended to become a name, just like the classic name for the Mafia: "La Cosa Nostra" is literally just the phrase "our thing", used to refer obscurely to the crime organisation you're running. In the case of "The Community", it was a case of people involved always providing themselves with plausible deniability and even a veneer of respectability, as they do things on behalf of "The Community".
 
They don't expect you to pay for protection or anything. They simply prefer you to be a generous donor, providing the community with "necessary funding". They don't try to recruit impressionable young mutants or metahumans, to serve as lieutenants of a street gang. No, they simply welcome them to the super-powered community. And if it ends up with them implicated for, or even involved in, some initial crimes, that's just more evidence that the rest of the world is out to get people like us, and only people in The Community really have your back. The super-"heroes"? They're all just sell-outs.

Regarding a building burning out of control: "Not my problem. I only set a small fire."
 
"This is why fire safety is so important in the home!"
 
"That is 28 points worth of **** You to the face."
 
"DPS barbarian is best barbarian."
 
"I'm dying Squirtle."
 
"Dash it all, man - It's not a potion of coiffure!"
 
"I'm gonna open this door like a dumbass. To specify: I'm not perceiving, investigating or hesitating just walking right in."
 
Bad guy adjacent to fire is hit with the Grease Spell. DM rules that the oil is very flammable. Bad guy goes to stop, drop and roll. "I'm gonna throw ball bearings in that area to keep him from getting up from prone."
"Oh damn, oily ball bearings."
"Oily on fire ball bearings."
 
"These demon mosquitoes are not polite like the last ones."
 
"Pork chop sandwiches!"
 
Bitterly and passive aggressively: "Weh weh weh. Can't burn any buildings down. Weh."
 
"Oh, hang on, I was standing on top of someone."
"Oh, that's where she went!"
 
 
 
 

Regarding a building burning out of control: "Not my problem. I only set a small fire."
 
"This is why fire safety is so important in the home!"
 
"That is 28 points worth of **** You to the face."
 
"DPS barbarian is best barbarian."
 
"I'm dying Squirtle."
 
"Dash it all, man - It's not a potion of coiffure!"
 
"I'm gonna open this door like a dumbass. To specify: I'm not perceiving, investigating or hesitating just walking right in."
 
Bad guy adjacent to fire is hit with the Grease Spell. DM rules that the oil is very flammable. Bad guy goes to stop, drop and roll. "I'm gonna throw ball bearings in that area to keep him from getting up from prone."
"Oh damn, oily ball bearings."
"Oily on fire ball bearings."
 
"These demon mosquitoes are not polite like the last ones."
 
"Pork chop sandwiches!"
 
Bitterly and passive aggressively: "Weh weh weh. Can't burn any buildings down. Weh."
 
"Oh, hang on, I was standing on top of someone."
"Oh, that's where she went!"
 
 
 
 

"It is I, Collateral Damage Man!!" as we break into a mansion to liberate a captive there.

Regarding a building burning out of control: "Not my problem. I only set a small fire."
 
"This is why fire safety is so important in the home!"
 
"That is 28 points worth of **** You to the face."
 
"DPS barbarian is best barbarian."
 
"I'm dying Squirtle."
 
"Dash it all, man - It's not a potion of coiffure!"
 
"I'm gonna open this door like a dumbass. To specify: I'm not perceiving, investigating or hesitating just walking right in."
 
Bad guy adjacent to fire is hit with the Grease Spell. DM rules that the oil is very flammable. Bad guy goes to stop, drop and roll. "I'm gonna throw ball bearings in that area to keep him from getting up from prone."
"Oh damn, oily ball bearings."
"Oily on fire ball bearings."
 
"These demon mosquitoes are not polite like the last ones."
 
"Pork chop sandwiches!"
 
Bitterly and passive aggressively: "Weh weh weh. Can't burn any buildings down. Weh."
 
"Oh, hang on, I was standing on top of someone."
"Oh, that's where she went!"
 
 
 
 

Accidental Change: into a 15d6 KA explosion.  GM controls the circumstances.  Literally he multiformed into a normal person with an always on 15d6KA explosion AE, with no personal immunity.  He was a bomb.
 
Had a player hand me a character with that as a disad in a one-shot I did at a game shop.  It was hilarious and actually fit the scenario really well.  He nuked an alien invasion base.

This week's session played over Roll20.
 
<On finding out that local law requires cutting off a thief's hand for a first offense>
Assassin-subclass Rogue: Oh man I'm sure glad that I'm just a professional killer and not a pickpocket.
 
The eldritch knight can't show his face in town, but his shield was recently broken. For reasons that defy all sense, the cleric and druid have decided that this shield -must- be repaired, not replaced. They polymorph the eldritch knight into a rat, keep him in a bag, and go to the armorer. They work out all the details for payment, materials, delivery, they come up with alibis and needlessly complicated stories of how it came to be broken in the first place.
Shopkeep: Okay, so where's the shield.
Druid and Cleric: stare dumb at each other.
DM: was it on the Knight when you polymorphed him?
Cleric: ... yes.
DM: So now it's part of him until he reverts to his own shape?
Druid: ... Yes.
Shopkeep: So... the shield?
Cleric: Ah, we, uh, forgot it. We've got to run real quick, we'll bring it right back to you.
 
DM: Okay, so you're looking for the beggar's dog. We're gonna take this quick and easy, just a couple of up-down investigation rolls. Give me all the results and we'll see how you do.
Druid: Okay, so I bombed it. But, uh, I can use the probability warp of my clockwork pendant to change my roll to a ten, so... ten?
Sorceror: I rolled a one. But, I have advantage because of this magic item, so .. a twenty.
DM: Uh-huh. One more for each of you, you're getting close.
Druid: A one. I'm spending inspiration to re-roll. And... a nineteen.
DM: Double-You-Tee-Eff with these rolls.
Sorceror: I know, right? Okay, that's a nineteen.
DM: Roll again for your advantage, you may get a crit after all.
Sorceror: Nope, it's a one.
DM: Hmm. One more investigation roll. Either of you.
Sorceror: That's a two, and... a four. Screw it, I'm spending the sorcery points to succeed automatically.
DM: Fine. Okay. Let me describe what you see. First, have any of you seen the movie CATS?
<Full round of horrified screeching and protests from all the players>
 
No specific quote for this one, but the cleric blew out most of his good spell levels curing a homeless roughneck going through drug withdrawals and severe malnutrition. Asks the down-and-out-er how he came to be this way, NPC reveals that he used to be an acolyte of the evil god that is opposed to the cleric's god. Lots of pointed glaring at the DM over that.
 
<Evil cultists barge into inn room, looking for good-aligned priest.>
Warlock: What? Who? No, I'm... uh... Carrie. <gives name of prominent local family that is known by every resident of the town>
other player: Good trope: when someone is just AGGRESSIVELY bad at lying.
Druid: Oh, yeah, we'd love to help you find those good-aligned priests. Hey, Carrie, why don't you help these guys get some tea?
Warlock: ..
Druid: -Carrie-, go get them some tea.
Warlock: ...
Druid: -ahem-, -Carrie!-
Warlock: Oh, me?
other player: AGGRESSIVELY BAD AT LYING
<good-aligned priest in the next room over tries to escape through the window, rolls a hilariously bad stealth check>
DM: That's a loud crashing noise.
<Simultaneously> Warlock: I throw myself down the stairs to cover up the noise. Sorceror: I cast minor illusion of a crash to cover up the noise.
DM: So, let's look at this. The cultists have heard a loud crashing coming from this direction, this direction, and over here, all at the same time.
Player: SO BAD AT LYING
Cultists go to investigate the noises. Sorceror, Warlock and Druid all roll Deception checks. Druid rolls high af, convinces cultist that that busted window frame was always there. Sorceror rolls high af and convinces that cultist that he's a wild mage and always wakes up with a sound of thunder. Warlock rolls hilariously poorly, tells cultist she had never seen stairs before.
Player: I'm dying.

There’s a giant shining pyramid hovering 500ft over Wati.

Onka: Oh good, it’s in range of an Anti-Magic field.
Zenobia: What I want to know is where he was hiding that - I can’t think of anywhere on this plane where he could have hidden a giant golden pyramid and no-one would have stumbled across it in the last few thousand years.
Onka: Space?
Zenobia: I’m pretty sure the astrologers would have noticed a giant golden pyramid floating past.
Onka: Floating in an invisibility field?
Zenobia: OK, that would do it.

Onka: We would have had more downtime if we’d just walked back across the desert. Now we have to deal with this s***.

Zenobia: Why would he bring it here, anyway? Wati is not that important. He can’t have brought it here just to get revenge on us, since he has no idea who we are. Why not go to the new capitol, or the old one?
Onka: We do still have his mask.
Zenobia: Then he should have flown the pyramid out into the desert, where we were until 50 seconds ago. Maybe he wants to find out what happened to his necromantic fountain.

The pyramid is casting a shadow, both literal and spiritual, over the city. It’s also inscribed with a sigil, not of the Forgotten Pharaoh, but of one of his generals, one Isatemkhebet.

Onka: Does it have a giant death laser?
GM: Of course.
Nemat: If this is just his general does that mean he has more than one of these things?

Onka: One strategically placed Anti-magic field and it’ll fall out of the sky. Admittedly onto the city.
GM: Oh please, it’s Shory Magitech, it won’t be that easy.
Peanut Gallery: Cast Greater Darkness over it and cut off its solar power supply.

Isatemkhebet: City of Wati! Cast aside Weapon and Tool, Armor and Cloth, for you cower before Isatemkhebet, General of the Sky Pharoah! Witness the power of the Five Pointed Sun! *Giant laser beam fires from the top of the pyramid, blasting a 200-foot wide crater in the city* The Sky Pharoah has one demand! Bring onto us the Covenant of Wati! You have one week to comply, or your city shall be destroyed!
Onka: Well, piss. Just as well we’re at the temple of Sarenrae - they’re less likely to rat us out. Everybody inside.
GM: Why are you assuming half the city will want to hand you over?
Onka: Human nature.
Asrian: We DID end the undead scourge - we’re heroes.

Zenobia: The general is also assuming we don’t just hand ourselves in to protect the town.

We receive a Sending from Ptenemib, a gentlemen we rescued from the cult weeks ago.

Ptenemib: There’s a giant floating pyramid over Wati and it’s demanding we hand your party over or it will destroy the town!
Zenobia: *taps Ptenemib on the shoulder*
Ptenemib: EEP!
Asrian: We’re aware.

Zenobia: I take it the writer wasn’t expecting the party to teleport straight back to town.

Ptenemib rushes us off to a safehouse before anybody recognises us. There are also undead harpies flying around, so flying up to the pyramid early and sabotaging stuff won’t be easy.

Peanut Gallery: And the harpies aren’t being shot down by anybody with a bow, why?
Onka: Giant death laser.

The Desecrate effect of the pyramid’s shadow is a problem, too. Using Control Weather to make it overcast so there’s no shadow probably won’t help. At least the Consecrations on the many temples in town should hold. A lot of people are fleeing town, but the harpies aren’t harassing them - but they ARE checking that none of them are the party members.

Zenobia: We need to tell your family you’re alive. Hmm. But then they’ll be worried about you being handed over to the pyramid.
Onka: ‘Hi mum and dad, I’m alive, this is my girlfriend, we’re going into the death pyramid, I love you, bye.”

At least we have a week to buy scrolls of Fly, and anything else that might be useful for sabotaging the pyramid. And we DO have that map to a possible Anti-Shory weapon, that we found in Chessisek’s tomb. Can we retrieve it within a week?

Zenobia OoC: We can always use one of those magical feathers and send the general a message saying ‘We heard you’re looking for us, we’re in the capitol’ and make it somebody else’s problem.

Asrian doesn’t see the point of the spell Switch Souls, which enables the caster to swap souls with their familiar - especially since bards don’t get familiars. And the bodies are just as vulnerable as the animal was originally.

Zenobia OoC: Clearly the spell was invented by a pervert druid.
GM: Pervert wizard. At the suggestion of pervert druid.
Peanut Gallery: Pervert druids invented Wild Shape.

So, time to cast Speak With Dead on the spirit of that dead architect we recovered. Onka has been keeping his sarcophagus shrunk and in his pocket.

Onka: Time to interrogate the tiny dead guy.

Onka wears the Pharaoh's Mask, just in case, before casting the spell.

Chessisek: Who dares wake the dead? You are not the Pharaoh Hakotep. You wear his Ka, but you are not him.
Onka: Where is the Anti-Shory Weapon?
Chessisek: Weapon? They called it a weapon? HAha ha ha ha. Tis not a weapon. Tis an apocalypse. You wished to know the whereabouts of Hakotep’s tomb?
Onka: That wasn’t an answer.
Peanut Gallery: Yes it was.
Onka: Oh dear.
Chessisek: You seek the *chokes trying to pronounce the jargon and language*
Onka: Do you need a drink, what do the dead drink anyway?
Chessisek: My apologies, my throat is a bit dry. I AM a corpse.

Chessisek is quite boastful about all the effort he put into launching the Sky Pharaoh’s tomb into space, promptly followed by the flying pyramids of all his generals, and how elaborate the mechanisms were that launched them all, and can call them back, and how it’s warded against Divination and Observation.

Peanut Gallery: But not warded against Greater Teleportation.
All: ....

Chessisek: Trenchs? Trenches! The Khepsutanem is much more than ditches and mounds of earth. Hundreds of obelisks, each containing a bound elemental spirit, adorn the paths of the Khepsutanem. Among these stand 11 great monuments,each infused with the spirit of a particularly powerful elemental. These 11 monuments are the Sekrepheres, and they must be activated in the proper order between the hours of dawn and noon on a single day to focus their energies upon the Sun Disk plaza, which can in turn call down Hakotep’s tomb.
Zenobia: Does this actually help us with the pyramid flying over Wati?
Onka: Eventually.
Peanut Gallery: The general has one flying pyramid, so you steal his bosses even bigger one.

Onka: Can we just turn the gain up on the launchpad and push Hakotep’s Tomb out into the Outer Planes and let the Great Old Ones deal with him?

It looks like dealing with the launchpad is going to take well over a week. It seems like we’ll have to deal with the one here ourselves. And using Anti-magic or Disjunction to cancel its levitation would crush most of the town.

Zenobia: My future in-laws live here!

Of course we can always teleport to a larger city to avoid being recognised, and have a wider range of stuff to buy, before we teleport back. Avoids the harpies too.

Onka purchases a permanent timeless demiplane. This is going to be quite useful for his crafting of items, and popping into, casting all his buffs, and back out to rejoin the fight. And if Zenobia learns Plane Shift we can use it as in instant hospital. Although we all get hit with the ageing when we come out again, so Onka is going to be going through a bunch of birthdays in rapid succession.

GM: … I just let a PC have access to the Hyperbolic Time Chamber

We return to Wati, kitted out the wazoo, do some telescopic surveillance on the pyramid to spot any entrance points, and fly up, invisible, with featherfall potions and magic parasols ready, at high noon. Happily, undead harpies can’t see invisible things. Unfortunately one of the ones guarding the door turns at an inopportune moment and its wing brushes Zenobia. Battle commences! And the harpies variously shatter or drop their weapons. Asrian, as usual, goes through them like a Tomahawk missile through soft butter.

The entrance chamber has a incomplete mural proclaiming that ‘those who gave the gift of uncompromised service to the sky pharaoh are known to him and blessed with BLANK’. And the room is lined to the ceiling with magical traps. Happily we’re smart enough to figure out where the disabling mechanism is, and discover that the BLANK is ‘Death’. Although you do have to wonder why you’d set it up with traps that do double damage to your own minions.

Nemat also deciphers later warning inscriptions too.

Nemat OoC: I’m finally accepting that I’m an archeologist who is exceptionally good at thumping people.
Zenobia OoC: *quietly sings the Indiana Jones theme*

Happily we can still fly over most of the traps, and Nemat also has Tomb Sight. With that, Detect Magic, and Detect Undead, we can avoid nearly everything. Especially once Nemat realises that a lot of the directions inscribed on the walls are deliberately misleading. It also seems that the general might be a woman, despite the voice broadcast over Wati. We sabotage various defences as we go.

Nemat: At least I have a good copy of the fake map to put in the Chronicles. Especially now I know what you get paid for chronicles - highest challenge rating x 100.
Zenobia: A good reason to publish in installments.

Things get weird when one corridor apparently leads into open air. At night. And we’re apparently high over the clouds. But of course Nemat has an orrery and a cosmogram and other astrological instruments in one of his bags of holding, and starts comparing the stars to what they should be. They’re thousands of years out of date. Of course the Pharaoh has his own planetarium.

Onka: Wow, everything in this pyramid really is ‘Me Me Me’ isn’t it?
Nemat: Onka, you HAVE been in pyramids before.

Peanut Gallery: So how thick do you want the doors to be, to stop the PCs using magic to look through everything?
Nemat OoC: No no no, just coat them in gold - a little Dutch filigree and we’re f***ed

GM: The floor turns Ethereal and you fall 10ft.
All: No we don’t.
GM: Godammit, the writers assume you fly up to the pyramid, but half these traps assume you’re walking around when you get there!

The Black Pudding in the pit trap is certainly ravenous, so it’s probably just as well we’re still bobbing around like helium balloons.

Zenobia OoC: Anything we need to know about Black Puddings?
Peanut Gallery: Depends on how well you can pass a Knowledge Check.
Nemat OoC: No no, I am an Inquisitor, I am the God of ‘Wot Dat?’

Nemat casts Dispel Magic on the floor and turns it solid again.

GM: The Black Pudding has been magically sustained for thousands of years, starving, and you just showed yourself as food and then sealed it away again.
Nemat: I’ll try to feel sorry for the mindless blob. But honestly, there are fungi smarter than these things.
Zenobia OoC: Do Not Taunt The Happy Fun Blob.

One of the next rooms looks like some kind of light puzzle, but the room reeks of necromantic magic. We debate resealing the door and pressing on.

Zenobia: There’s no GOOD reason why the room would be full of necromantic energy.

We seal the door and press on.

GM: Adventurers generally investigate this sort of thing.
Nemat: We’re archeologists. Well-armed archeologists, but still.
Onka: We may be the owners of this pyramid soon, stop breaking our stuff.

We find a statue of Hakotep, too. It tries to curse us, and we loot it for the Immovable Rods holding it off the ground.

Zenobia: So this is the face we’re punching later?
Nemat: Maybe. But especially if he starts looking like this again, because then we have to punch him hard and fast.

The statue falls to the floor with a noise and impact no doubt audible throughout the entire pyramid.

Nemat: Well, that IS what’s coming - DOOM.

Another reason to punch the Sky Pharoah in the snoot - a gallery of what are probably real people, turned to stone, and then had their faces ‘corrected’ with the spell Stoneshape. Restoring any of them is going to take some high-end spells. We do find a Rod of Splendor, which among other things can create a magnificent tent pavilion that can house 100 people.

Zenobia to Asrian: Well, I know what we’re doing for our wedding… of course I have to get permission from your parents first. I don’t recommend asking mine.
Onka: If we can even find them.

The next fight is brutal, despite the fact we dealt with the same kind of creatures earlier. Asrian and Nemat both lose fingers, and need emergency Healing from Zenobia to survive. In fact, it was only Onka’s Revenant Armour spell on the partie’s stuff, Zenobia’s Stone Shape, catching the last harpy in a big stone fist, that ensures the party survives at all.

Zenobia: So now we get out swords and knives out, find the gaps between the big stone fingers, and poke poke poke.
Asrian: Make a hole.
Onka: We have that Adamantium auger too. Drill a hole.
Asrian: Why stop drilling?

Onka OoC: XP probably won’t be relevant until we get out of the pyramid. Assuming we get out alive. Which we will because Overland Flight is awesome

We’d still like to take the flying pyramid intact, of course - there’s so much interesting stuff to loot. Such as the tomb of Isatemkhebet, currently occupied by someone inclined to monologue. She certainly doesn’t have the distinctly male voice that threatened the town earlier.

Isatemkhebet: Finally, you have arrived, Covenant of Wati. It would be an honor to add your forms to my gallery, as I did with the Sekpatras so long ago... Your meddling in Hakotep's affairs is over! Kor-Ahn-Tuk, Charge the leader!
Nemat: At least she got our name right.

Unfortunately she has a pet Gorgon. Fortunately, Nemat is already partly stone.

Nemat OoC: *deep inhale* Alreaady stoooooned, maaan.

Hilariously, Isatemkhebet is also the only one that succumbs to the harpy’s song. Unfortunately she's undead so it has no effect.

Isatemkhebet: Not me, you fool!

After we destroy her minions, she tries to take cover inside a sarcophagus. Which is unfortunate for her.

Nemat: As much as I’d like to make an undead feel fear for the first time in centuries, as I slowly chip away through the stone between it and me… Zenobia? Open the way.
Zenobia: *casts Shape Stone*
GM: The lid of the sarcophagus melts away. The general looks rather shocked.
Nemat: B****, we’re the Covenant of Wati.
Zenobia: I could have opened a small hole and started pouring in holy water - I’ve got 25 flasks in the haversack.

Unfortunately she’s a load-bearing boss - when we kill her the pyramid starts falling out of the sky. We scatter to try and find the control room before it crushes half of the town. Just as well we still have Overland Flight running - some of us aren’t very fast on the ground. It’s also very fortunate that Nemat is basically a Combat Archeologist, and can accurately guess where the control room should be. Happily the mechanism seems straightforward enough, and we redirect the fall to somewhere outside town, while we use Onka’s pre-prepared Teleport to get us all the hell out of there before it hits. We watch it plow a giant divot into the onion fields, Nemat wincing as he watches all that invaluable archeology get smashed to pieces.

Onka: It’s ok, we know Make Whole.
Asrian: Yes, just look at the hole we made in the onion fields.

Nemat is even more annoyed by the fact that by the time he can come back to investigate the wreckage properly, it’ll have been looted, and relics and fake relics scattered across half the continent. Onka has his own plan.

Onka: ‘Dear Royal Highness, I apologise for the pyramid illegally parked outside Wati, I’ll be back to deal with it someday. Signed Onka’
Nemat: Oh f*** off, you already have a private dimension, you’re not getting a flying pyramid too.

GM: You have dealt a dire blow to the evil that was Ancient Osirion! *plays Imperial March*
Nemat: Fair call. Humanocentric empire.
Asrian: And they had a Death Star.

GM: And somewhere else one of twelve lights on a magical display blinks out, and a mummified fist slams down on the arm of a throne.
Nemat OoC: Sounds to me like we have 11 more chances to get our own flying pyramid.

This week's session played over Roll20.
 
<On finding out that local law requires cutting off a thief's hand for a first offense>
Assassin-subclass Rogue: Oh man I'm sure glad that I'm just a professional killer and not a pickpocket.
 
The eldritch knight can't show his face in town, but his shield was recently broken. For reasons that defy all sense, the cleric and druid have decided that this shield -must- be repaired, not replaced. They polymorph the eldritch knight into a rat, keep him in a bag, and go to the armorer. They work out all the details for payment, materials, delivery, they come up with alibis and needlessly complicated stories of how it came to be broken in the first place.
Shopkeep: Okay, so where's the shield.
Druid and Cleric: stare dumb at each other.
DM: was it on the Knight when you polymorphed him?
Cleric: ... yes.
DM: So now it's part of him until he reverts to his own shape?
Druid: ... Yes.
Shopkeep: So... the shield?
Cleric: Ah, we, uh, forgot it. We've got to run real quick, we'll bring it right back to you.
 
DM: Okay, so you're looking for the beggar's dog. We're gonna take this quick and easy, just a couple of up-down investigation rolls. Give me all the results and we'll see how you do.
Druid: Okay, so I bombed it. But, uh, I can use the probability warp of my clockwork pendant to change my roll to a ten, so... ten?
Sorceror: I rolled a one. But, I have advantage because of this magic item, so .. a twenty.
DM: Uh-huh. One more for each of you, you're getting close.
Druid: A one. I'm spending inspiration to re-roll. And... a nineteen.
DM: Double-You-Tee-Eff with these rolls.
Sorceror: I know, right? Okay, that's a nineteen.
DM: Roll again for your advantage, you may get a crit after all.
Sorceror: Nope, it's a one.
DM: Hmm. One more investigation roll. Either of you.
Sorceror: That's a two, and... a four. Screw it, I'm spending the sorcery points to succeed automatically.
DM: Fine. Okay. Let me describe what you see. First, have any of you seen the movie CATS?
<Full round of horrified screeching and protests from all the players>
 
No specific quote for this one, but the cleric blew out most of his good spell levels curing a homeless roughneck going through drug withdrawals and severe malnutrition. Asks the down-and-out-er how he came to be this way, NPC reveals that he used to be an acolyte of the evil god that is opposed to the cleric's god. Lots of pointed glaring at the DM over that.
 
<Evil cultists barge into inn room, looking for good-aligned priest.>
Warlock: What? Who? No, I'm... uh... Carrie. <gives name of prominent local family that is known by every resident of the town>
other player: Good trope: when someone is just AGGRESSIVELY bad at lying.
Druid: Oh, yeah, we'd love to help you find those good-aligned priests. Hey, Carrie, why don't you help these guys get some tea?
Warlock: ..
Druid: -Carrie-, go get them some tea.
Warlock: ...
Druid: -ahem-, -Carrie!-
Warlock: Oh, me?
other player: AGGRESSIVELY BAD AT LYING
<good-aligned priest in the next room over tries to escape through the window, rolls a hilariously bad stealth check>
DM: That's a loud crashing noise.
<Simultaneously> Warlock: I throw myself down the stairs to cover up the noise. Sorceror: I cast minor illusion of a crash to cover up the noise.
DM: So, let's look at this. The cultists have heard a loud crashing coming from this direction, this direction, and over here, all at the same time.
Player: SO BAD AT LYING
Cultists go to investigate the noises. Sorceror, Warlock and Druid all roll Deception checks. Druid rolls high af, convinces cultist that that busted window frame was always there. Sorceror rolls high af and convinces that cultist that he's a wild mage and always wakes up with a sound of thunder. Warlock rolls hilariously poorly, tells cultist she had never seen stairs before.
Player: I'm dying.

This week's session played over Roll20.
 
<On finding out that local law requires cutting off a thief's hand for a first offense>
Assassin-subclass Rogue: Oh man I'm sure glad that I'm just a professional killer and not a pickpocket.
 
The eldritch knight can't show his face in town, but his shield was recently broken. For reasons that defy all sense, the cleric and druid have decided that this shield -must- be repaired, not replaced. They polymorph the eldritch knight into a rat, keep him in a bag, and go to the armorer. They work out all the details for payment, materials, delivery, they come up with alibis and needlessly complicated stories of how it came to be broken in the first place.
Shopkeep: Okay, so where's the shield.
Druid and Cleric: stare dumb at each other.
DM: was it on the Knight when you polymorphed him?
Cleric: ... yes.
DM: So now it's part of him until he reverts to his own shape?
Druid: ... Yes.
Shopkeep: So... the shield?
Cleric: Ah, we, uh, forgot it. We've got to run real quick, we'll bring it right back to you.
 
DM: Okay, so you're looking for the beggar's dog. We're gonna take this quick and easy, just a couple of up-down investigation rolls. Give me all the results and we'll see how you do.
Druid: Okay, so I bombed it. But, uh, I can use the probability warp of my clockwork pendant to change my roll to a ten, so... ten?
Sorceror: I rolled a one. But, I have advantage because of this magic item, so .. a twenty.
DM: Uh-huh. One more for each of you, you're getting close.
Druid: A one. I'm spending inspiration to re-roll. And... a nineteen.
DM: Double-You-Tee-Eff with these rolls.
Sorceror: I know, right? Okay, that's a nineteen.
DM: Roll again for your advantage, you may get a crit after all.
Sorceror: Nope, it's a one.
DM: Hmm. One more investigation roll. Either of you.
Sorceror: That's a two, and... a four. Screw it, I'm spending the sorcery points to succeed automatically.
DM: Fine. Okay. Let me describe what you see. First, have any of you seen the movie CATS?
<Full round of horrified screeching and protests from all the players>
 
No specific quote for this one, but the cleric blew out most of his good spell levels curing a homeless roughneck going through drug withdrawals and severe malnutrition. Asks the down-and-out-er how he came to be this way, NPC reveals that he used to be an acolyte of the evil god that is opposed to the cleric's god. Lots of pointed glaring at the DM over that.
 
<Evil cultists barge into inn room, looking for good-aligned priest.>
Warlock: What? Who? No, I'm... uh... Carrie. <gives name of prominent local family that is known by every resident of the town>
other player: Good trope: when someone is just AGGRESSIVELY bad at lying.
Druid: Oh, yeah, we'd love to help you find those good-aligned priests. Hey, Carrie, why don't you help these guys get some tea?
Warlock: ..
Druid: -Carrie-, go get them some tea.
Warlock: ...
Druid: -ahem-, -Carrie!-
Warlock: Oh, me?
other player: AGGRESSIVELY BAD AT LYING
<good-aligned priest in the next room over tries to escape through the window, rolls a hilariously bad stealth check>
DM: That's a loud crashing noise.
<Simultaneously> Warlock: I throw myself down the stairs to cover up the noise. Sorceror: I cast minor illusion of a crash to cover up the noise.
DM: So, let's look at this. The cultists have heard a loud crashing coming from this direction, this direction, and over here, all at the same time.
Player: SO BAD AT LYING
Cultists go to investigate the noises. Sorceror, Warlock and Druid all roll Deception checks. Druid rolls high af, convinces cultist that that busted window frame was always there. Sorceror rolls high af and convinces that cultist that he's a wild mage and always wakes up with a sound of thunder. Warlock rolls hilariously poorly, tells cultist she had never seen stairs before.
Player: I'm dying.

This week's session played over Roll20.
 
<On finding out that local law requires cutting off a thief's hand for a first offense>
Assassin-subclass Rogue: Oh man I'm sure glad that I'm just a professional killer and not a pickpocket.
 
The eldritch knight can't show his face in town, but his shield was recently broken. For reasons that defy all sense, the cleric and druid have decided that this shield -must- be repaired, not replaced. They polymorph the eldritch knight into a rat, keep him in a bag, and go to the armorer. They work out all the details for payment, materials, delivery, they come up with alibis and needlessly complicated stories of how it came to be broken in the first place.
Shopkeep: Okay, so where's the shield.
Druid and Cleric: stare dumb at each other.
DM: was it on the Knight when you polymorphed him?
Cleric: ... yes.
DM: So now it's part of him until he reverts to his own shape?
Druid: ... Yes.
Shopkeep: So... the shield?
Cleric: Ah, we, uh, forgot it. We've got to run real quick, we'll bring it right back to you.
 
DM: Okay, so you're looking for the beggar's dog. We're gonna take this quick and easy, just a couple of up-down investigation rolls. Give me all the results and we'll see how you do.
Druid: Okay, so I bombed it. But, uh, I can use the probability warp of my clockwork pendant to change my roll to a ten, so... ten?
Sorceror: I rolled a one. But, I have advantage because of this magic item, so .. a twenty.
DM: Uh-huh. One more for each of you, you're getting close.
Druid: A one. I'm spending inspiration to re-roll. And... a nineteen.
DM: Double-You-Tee-Eff with these rolls.
Sorceror: I know, right? Okay, that's a nineteen.
DM: Roll again for your advantage, you may get a crit after all.
Sorceror: Nope, it's a one.
DM: Hmm. One more investigation roll. Either of you.
Sorceror: That's a two, and... a four. Screw it, I'm spending the sorcery points to succeed automatically.
DM: Fine. Okay. Let me describe what you see. First, have any of you seen the movie CATS?
<Full round of horrified screeching and protests from all the players>
 
No specific quote for this one, but the cleric blew out most of his good spell levels curing a homeless roughneck going through drug withdrawals and severe malnutrition. Asks the down-and-out-er how he came to be this way, NPC reveals that he used to be an acolyte of the evil god that is opposed to the cleric's god. Lots of pointed glaring at the DM over that.
 
<Evil cultists barge into inn room, looking for good-aligned priest.>
Warlock: What? Who? No, I'm... uh... Carrie. <gives name of prominent local family that is known by every resident of the town>
other player: Good trope: when someone is just AGGRESSIVELY bad at lying.
Druid: Oh, yeah, we'd love to help you find those good-aligned priests. Hey, Carrie, why don't you help these guys get some tea?
Warlock: ..
Druid: -Carrie-, go get them some tea.
Warlock: ...
Druid: -ahem-, -Carrie!-
Warlock: Oh, me?
other player: AGGRESSIVELY BAD AT LYING
<good-aligned priest in the next room over tries to escape through the window, rolls a hilariously bad stealth check>
DM: That's a loud crashing noise.
<Simultaneously> Warlock: I throw myself down the stairs to cover up the noise. Sorceror: I cast minor illusion of a crash to cover up the noise.
DM: So, let's look at this. The cultists have heard a loud crashing coming from this direction, this direction, and over here, all at the same time.
Player: SO BAD AT LYING
Cultists go to investigate the noises. Sorceror, Warlock and Druid all roll Deception checks. Druid rolls high af, convinces cultist that that busted window frame was always there. Sorceror rolls high af and convinces that cultist that he's a wild mage and always wakes up with a sound of thunder. Warlock rolls hilariously poorly, tells cultist she had never seen stairs before.
Player: I'm dying.

This week's session played over Roll20.
 
<On finding out that local law requires cutting off a thief's hand for a first offense>
Assassin-subclass Rogue: Oh man I'm sure glad that I'm just a professional killer and not a pickpocket.
 
The eldritch knight can't show his face in town, but his shield was recently broken. For reasons that defy all sense, the cleric and druid have decided that this shield -must- be repaired, not replaced. They polymorph the eldritch knight into a rat, keep him in a bag, and go to the armorer. They work out all the details for payment, materials, delivery, they come up with alibis and needlessly complicated stories of how it came to be broken in the first place.
Shopkeep: Okay, so where's the shield.
Druid and Cleric: stare dumb at each other.
DM: was it on the Knight when you polymorphed him?
Cleric: ... yes.
DM: So now it's part of him until he reverts to his own shape?
Druid: ... Yes.
Shopkeep: So... the shield?
Cleric: Ah, we, uh, forgot it. We've got to run real quick, we'll bring it right back to you.
 
DM: Okay, so you're looking for the beggar's dog. We're gonna take this quick and easy, just a couple of up-down investigation rolls. Give me all the results and we'll see how you do.
Druid: Okay, so I bombed it. But, uh, I can use the probability warp of my clockwork pendant to change my roll to a ten, so... ten?
Sorceror: I rolled a one. But, I have advantage because of this magic item, so .. a twenty.
DM: Uh-huh. One more for each of you, you're getting close.
Druid: A one. I'm spending inspiration to re-roll. And... a nineteen.
DM: Double-You-Tee-Eff with these rolls.
Sorceror: I know, right? Okay, that's a nineteen.
DM: Roll again for your advantage, you may get a crit after all.
Sorceror: Nope, it's a one.
DM: Hmm. One more investigation roll. Either of you.
Sorceror: That's a two, and... a four. Screw it, I'm spending the sorcery points to succeed automatically.
DM: Fine. Okay. Let me describe what you see. First, have any of you seen the movie CATS?
<Full round of horrified screeching and protests from all the players>
 
No specific quote for this one, but the cleric blew out most of his good spell levels curing a homeless roughneck going through drug withdrawals and severe malnutrition. Asks the down-and-out-er how he came to be this way, NPC reveals that he used to be an acolyte of the evil god that is opposed to the cleric's god. Lots of pointed glaring at the DM over that.
 
<Evil cultists barge into inn room, looking for good-aligned priest.>
Warlock: What? Who? No, I'm... uh... Carrie. <gives name of prominent local family that is known by every resident of the town>
other player: Good trope: when someone is just AGGRESSIVELY bad at lying.
Druid: Oh, yeah, we'd love to help you find those good-aligned priests. Hey, Carrie, why don't you help these guys get some tea?
Warlock: ..
Druid: -Carrie-, go get them some tea.
Warlock: ...
Druid: -ahem-, -Carrie!-
Warlock: Oh, me?
other player: AGGRESSIVELY BAD AT LYING
<good-aligned priest in the next room over tries to escape through the window, rolls a hilariously bad stealth check>
DM: That's a loud crashing noise.
<Simultaneously> Warlock: I throw myself down the stairs to cover up the noise. Sorceror: I cast minor illusion of a crash to cover up the noise.
DM: So, let's look at this. The cultists have heard a loud crashing coming from this direction, this direction, and over here, all at the same time.
Player: SO BAD AT LYING
Cultists go to investigate the noises. Sorceror, Warlock and Druid all roll Deception checks. Druid rolls high af, convinces cultist that that busted window frame was always there. Sorceror rolls high af and convinces that cultist that he's a wild mage and always wakes up with a sound of thunder. Warlock rolls hilariously poorly, tells cultist she had never seen stairs before.
Player: I'm dying.

This week's session played over Roll20.
 
<On finding out that local law requires cutting off a thief's hand for a first offense>
Assassin-subclass Rogue: Oh man I'm sure glad that I'm just a professional killer and not a pickpocket.
 
The eldritch knight can't show his face in town, but his shield was recently broken. For reasons that defy all sense, the cleric and druid have decided that this shield -must- be repaired, not replaced. They polymorph the eldritch knight into a rat, keep him in a bag, and go to the armorer. They work out all the details for payment, materials, delivery, they come up with alibis and needlessly complicated stories of how it came to be broken in the first place.
Shopkeep: Okay, so where's the shield.
Druid and Cleric: stare dumb at each other.
DM: was it on the Knight when you polymorphed him?
Cleric: ... yes.
DM: So now it's part of him until he reverts to his own shape?
Druid: ... Yes.
Shopkeep: So... the shield?
Cleric: Ah, we, uh, forgot it. We've got to run real quick, we'll bring it right back to you.
 
DM: Okay, so you're looking for the beggar's dog. We're gonna take this quick and easy, just a couple of up-down investigation rolls. Give me all the results and we'll see how you do.
Druid: Okay, so I bombed it. But, uh, I can use the probability warp of my clockwork pendant to change my roll to a ten, so... ten?
Sorceror: I rolled a one. But, I have advantage because of this magic item, so .. a twenty.
DM: Uh-huh. One more for each of you, you're getting close.
Druid: A one. I'm spending inspiration to re-roll. And... a nineteen.
DM: Double-You-Tee-Eff with these rolls.
Sorceror: I know, right? Okay, that's a nineteen.
DM: Roll again for your advantage, you may get a crit after all.
Sorceror: Nope, it's a one.
DM: Hmm. One more investigation roll. Either of you.
Sorceror: That's a two, and... a four. Screw it, I'm spending the sorcery points to succeed automatically.
DM: Fine. Okay. Let me describe what you see. First, have any of you seen the movie CATS?
<Full round of horrified screeching and protests from all the players>
 
No specific quote for this one, but the cleric blew out most of his good spell levels curing a homeless roughneck going through drug withdrawals and severe malnutrition. Asks the down-and-out-er how he came to be this way, NPC reveals that he used to be an acolyte of the evil god that is opposed to the cleric's god. Lots of pointed glaring at the DM over that.
 
<Evil cultists barge into inn room, looking for good-aligned priest.>
Warlock: What? Who? No, I'm... uh... Carrie. <gives name of prominent local family that is known by every resident of the town>
other player: Good trope: when someone is just AGGRESSIVELY bad at lying.
Druid: Oh, yeah, we'd love to help you find those good-aligned priests. Hey, Carrie, why don't you help these guys get some tea?
Warlock: ..
Druid: -Carrie-, go get them some tea.
Warlock: ...
Druid: -ahem-, -Carrie!-
Warlock: Oh, me?
other player: AGGRESSIVELY BAD AT LYING
<good-aligned priest in the next room over tries to escape through the window, rolls a hilariously bad stealth check>
DM: That's a loud crashing noise.
<Simultaneously> Warlock: I throw myself down the stairs to cover up the noise. Sorceror: I cast minor illusion of a crash to cover up the noise.
DM: So, let's look at this. The cultists have heard a loud crashing coming from this direction, this direction, and over here, all at the same time.
Player: SO BAD AT LYING
Cultists go to investigate the noises. Sorceror, Warlock and Druid all roll Deception checks. Druid rolls high af, convinces cultist that that busted window frame was always there. Sorceror rolls high af and convinces that cultist that he's a wild mage and always wakes up with a sound of thunder. Warlock rolls hilariously poorly, tells cultist she had never seen stairs before.
Player: I'm dying.

If you as the GM always always have a plan for what will happen if the heroes lose, and if that plan always always includes a way for them to win again, then the narrative down-then-up will always be preserved. Like GnomeBody I find that karma, inspiration points, fate tokens and whatnot tend to get spent when players are trying to avoid a fail. I used a system like that for a previous campaign, and the players were blowing them out to make ordinary Dodge actions in ordinary combat because a blast *might* Stun them for a phase. I eventually added a rule that you could only ever cash in a heroic token for one maneuver one time, and that worked somewhat better. The first time a character spent one on an EGO roll to push STR was the highlight clip for those tokens, but other than that they were clunky and disappointing.
 

When Jeanetta Theodore developed powers of precognition she was a technician in a particle-acceleration lab. Some last-minute adjustments had needed to be made, and she was not behind all the proper shielding when the neutral-terrene matter flashed. All of time opened up before her, and the first thing she knew was that she was going to need a secret identity to accomplish all her goals. So she finished her shift, clocked out, handed in her resignation and created the mask and name of Ultimatum. She dabbled in some street crime-fighting by night, using her ability to foresee every threat and produce countermeasures, from stun grenades to a well-placed taser. By day she was a vicious day-trader, who built a fortune not by finding winners but by short-selling the business fronts of various villains and criminal organizations like VIPER. The short-sales made her a millionaire, then a multi-millionaire, and eventually a billionaire, while driving down the stock prices of those business fronts and cutting the profit margins of villains she had never met. If anyone ever did a full accounting, she had probably done more damage to Doctor Destroyer's schemes than any hero alive. And as her funding has increased, her gadget pool has moved from self-defense tools to super-science weapons. In combat she is untouchable, unflappable, and unpredictable. When she received the invitation to the Virtue Capitalists, she already had a briefcase packed and a list of investments for the common fund.

Most superpowers who reach truly lofty heights of wealth are villains, stealing and exploiting their abilities to enrich themselves. Most, but not all. The members of Virtue Capital are individually billionaires and collectively they are the board of directors of a series of shell corporations that have interests in almost every industry in almost every developed nation. There are six members, not including followers, bodyguards, assistants, support staff and other assets. They use their money and leverage to do good in the world, but as often as necessary they take a hands-on approach to crime-fighting on a scale that most hero teams will never reach.

Someone has to hold down a desk, right? Sure, the cool parts of law enforcement take place on the street, in the field, and America's Best has its fair share of gunfights-while-hanging-off-a-helicopter, but someone has to make sure the paperwork clears, jurisdictions are settled, parts are requisitioned, reports from forensics are filed, funding is allocated and case files are kept up-to-date. That someone is Edith Salter, and within their team she is sometimes called by her callsign of Warrant. She takes care of all the paper-work side of the business, and has time to make coffee for the office besides. And all the action-hero geniuses of the team are so fixated on fieldwork and training that they have never realized how incredibly odd that is. Before she was Edith Salter, there was Madeline Plakhotnikova, a reality warper with a low-key ability: anything she wrote or typed became true, but only on paper. She could not write down "Captain Trouble is dead" and have him struck dead, but if she did so then somewhere out there, there would be a death warrant for that person. Captain Trouble's credit cards would be canceled and his funeral would be scheduled, causing no end of trouble. Whatever she wrote in a document, every other document would agree with it. Madeline made herself scandalously wealthy, did away with her enemies, and got away with it all. Then she changed her name, changed her history, moved into a brownstone walkup, and began inventing a superhero team of law-enforcement misfits that could do what she could not. She put on a pot of coffee and started scheming.
 
... and that's seven? Do I propose the next team?

If you as the GM always always have a plan for what will happen if the heroes lose, and if that plan always always includes a way for them to win again, then the narrative down-then-up will always be preserved. Like GnomeBody I find that karma, inspiration points, fate tokens and whatnot tend to get spent when players are trying to avoid a fail. I used a system like that for a previous campaign, and the players were blowing them out to make ordinary Dodge actions in ordinary combat because a blast *might* Stun them for a phase. I eventually added a rule that you could only ever cash in a heroic token for one maneuver one time, and that worked somewhat better. The first time a character spent one on an EGO roll to push STR was the highlight clip for those tokens, but other than that they were clunky and disappointing.