TheQuestionMan

OK First of the Protectors from Serve and Protect.  These characters really feel like they are from a campaign, and I suspect that the module uses the guys from Scott Heine's Champions group.  Scott used to be pretty active on the old Hero email group, but I'm not sure he's busy online any more.
 
All members of the Protectors have two pieces of equipment: a two way radio and polarized flash defense contacts.  For some, the contacts also give UV vision.  They also are all trained in coordinated attacks, so I gave them Teamwork as well.
 
Ace is a martial artist with a pretty typical skillset and the ability to turn invisible.  She had 3rd edition pre-Strike Force Martial Arts (no style, just generic) which means just a multiplier to strength damage, so I gave her an interesting array of highly skilled maneuvers.
 
Ace   Val Char Cost  20  STR   10          Lift: 400kg, Damage: 4d6  26  DEX   32  23  CON  13  10  BOD   0  13  INT     3            Perception Roll: 12-  13  EGO   3  15  PRE   5            Presence Attack: 3d6  23  PD     21  23  ED     21   6   SPD  40  15  REC  11  30  END   2  44  STN  12   OCV:    9
DCV:    9 OMCV: 4 DMCV: 4   22m RUN  10   4m SWIM 0   8m LEAP 2 Characteristics Cost: 257   Cost Power  10    Lucky: Luck 2d6   8     Subvocal Blue Tooth: Radio Perception/Transmission (Radio Group) (10 Active Points); IIF (-1/4)   4     Contacts: Hearing Group Flash Defense (5 points) (5 Active Points); IIF (-1/4)   7     Find Weakness: Naked Advantage: Armor Piercing (+1/4) for up to 50 Active Points (12 Active Points); Requires A Roll (11- roll; -1/2), Extra Time (Delayed Phase, -1/4)  20    Shadow Step: Invisibility to Sight Group  Powers Cost: 49   Cost Martial Arts Maneuver   8     +2 HTH Damage Class(es)   5     Defensive Block:  1/2 Phase, +1 OCV, +3 DCV, Block, Abort   4     Killing Strike:  1/2 Phase, -2 OCV, +0 DCV, HKA 2 1/2d6   4     Shove:  1/2 Phase, +0 OCV, +0 DCV, 45 STR to Shove   3     Legsweep:  1/2 Phase, +2 OCV, -1 DCV, 7d6 Strike, Target Falls   4     Martial Dodge:  1/2 Phase, -- OCV, +5 DCV, Dodge, Affects All Attacks, Abort   4     Martial Escape:  1/2 Phase, +0 OCV, +0 DCV, 45 STR vs. Grabs   4     Martial Strike:  1/2 Phase, +0 OCV, +2 DCV, 8d6 Strike   5     Offensive Strike:  1/2 Phase, -2 OCV, +1 DCV, 10d6 Strike   5     Takeaway:  1/2 Phase, +0 OCV, +0 DCV, Grab Weapon, 40 STR to take weapon away Martial Arts Cost: 46   Cost Skill   3     Acrobatics 14-   9     +3 With Coordinating attacks  24    +3 with HTH Combat   4     +2 Deflection   3     Criminology 12-   3     Deduction 12-   3     Security Systems 12-   3     Stealth 14-   3     Teamwork 14- Skills Cost: 52   Total Character Cost: 407   Pts. Complication  15   Dependent NPC:  Brenda Gibson, roommate Infrequently (Normal; Unaware of character's adventuring career/Secret ID)  20   Hunted:  Seven Horsemen Frequently (Mo Pow; Harshly Punish)  25   Hunted:  Genocide Frequently (Mo Pow; NCI; Harshly Punish)  20   Hunted:  VIPER Frequently (Mo Pow; Harshly Punish)  10   Physical Complication:  Color Blind (Infrequently; Slightly Impairing)  15   Psychological Complication:  Hatred of firearms (Common; Strong)  10   Psychological Complication:  Independent, loner (Common; Moderate)  15   Social Complication:  Secret Identity Frequently, Major  20   Vulnerability:  2 x STUN Energy Killing Attacks (Common) Complication Points: 150    
 

When I ran the To Serve and Protect module in '92, the players really liked it.  It was about 5 sessions worth and by the end, a couple of the Protectors had lost their powers, the base was destroyed, Dr Wraithe vanished entirely (and showed up later increased in power as a super-vigilante trying to clean up Detroit), Renegade had become a Kwai Chang Caine type in leathers on a motorcycle wandering America, and Doc Sonic had a romance with one of the PCs.  It was very successful overall.
 
The artist used a lot of zipatone on the illustrations, which works okay for black and white images, but its a bear to color because I have to clean out all those dots.

After reading the CU book, ask here if you want more information about particular parts of the setting, and we can recommend the 6e or 5e books with the most information (or just answer directly). I wrote a bunch of the mystical, Doctor Strange-y stuff, so I am somewhat expert in it.
 
Dean Shomshak

I gave away all my 2nd and 3rd edition Shadowrun books, novels, along with a few 5th edition core books.
 
I ran Shadowrun for 12yrs off and on, but played a grand total of 15 sessions. I never was short of players' but always short of GM's.
 
I kept all my electronic sourcebooks though. Including Shadowpunk (Shadowrun Hero)
 
I wanted to play damn it.
 
QM

Pulling the drawstring tight on the sweat pants, Theresa took in how thin she was. Too long without regular eating was better in her mind than dealing further with Burt. It didn't surprise her that he hadn't had her declared missing.
 
She slipped her arms into the sweat shirt. It hung low, further covering the thinness of her body. The sleeves dropped past her hands. Theresa tugged the sleeves up to her elbows where they argued with her about staying. She frowned in the mirror.
 
Her hair, clean after far too long, hung damp and long. Theresa pulled it from the collar of her shirt and ran a brush she had found on the counter through it. She smiled to herself. Theresa couldn't explain it and she didn't understand it, but she felt safer now than she had in a long time. “Since mom...” She frowned at the thought and set the brush back on the counter.
 
What if...what if he's not being helpful? What if he wants something in return? Crossing her arms, Theresa stared at her reflection. What if he wants what Burt did?
 
She dropped her eyes, unable to meet her own gaze. He's not like that, she argued with herself. Everything I've read about him said that he's a decent guy.
 
You just met him. I bet mom thought Burt was a decent guy, her reflection seemed to say to her. What about putting his hand on your leg the way he did?
 
He was trying to reassure me is all! She thought back at the mirror.
 
Sure he was. It wasn't like he couldn't have just patted it. No, he had to leave it resting there, the reflection taunted her again.
 
Theresa brought her eyes up to the mirror again. The look on her face was resolute. He's not going to hurt me! She flung the throw out of her way and walked quietly down the hall.
 
The aroma of cooking onions and garlic met her before she left the shadows of the hall. Theresa watched from a distance. From the movement and the sounds it seemed he was chopping something up. He dumped what he had into a pan causing steam to rise. She leaned against the wall, shoulder and head, and crossed her arms; watching.
 
He moved on to something else, slicing instead of chopping. When he was finished, he added to the pan and washed the knife. She found that peculiar; washing while doing instead of letting things pile up to be washed all at once.
 
Theresa lost track of how long she had been standing there. With a sigh, she walked out into the light and started taking in her surroundings. Everything seemed to be made of wood. The kitchen where Jason was, was off to one side. The appliances, while modern, tended to blend in. The dining table set for three on the other side of a service bar, was large enough to seat a small army.
 
A bay window caught her attention. On the padded seat, leaning against the wall, was a black acoustic guitar. Theresa seemed drawn to it. There was a splash of purple on the body. The pickguard blended in to the body. She moved closer. The splash of color was from violets painted on the surface. Her fingers reached out and stroked the strings, sending a few notes into the air.
 
“Do you play?” Jason asked her.
 
Theresa turned to him and saw something, a look of hurt or something else, before he masked it. She shook her head. “My mom...she played. Is this yours? Of course it's yours. It's in your cabin and...”
 
“Slow down, Theresa,” he said with a smile. “It's mine, but I don't play. It probably needs to be tuned. It belonged to someone that was very special to me.”
 
“Sandy Wilson?” Jason cocked his head at her. “I read.” Theresa dropped her head. “A lot.”
 
“It was hers. She left it there the last time she was here. She wasn't planning on it being a long time before she came back to it,” Jason explained quietly.
 
Theresa walked slowly towards the kitchen. “Can I ask you something?”
 
Jason smiled at her. “Ask.”
 
“Why are you helping me?”
 
He gave her a concerned look and turned back to tend what he was cooking. “Do you feel that you are somehow not worthy of being helped?”
 
“Do you always answer a question with a question?” she snapped back.
 
Jason raised an eyebrow in Theresa's direction before giving his full attention to the stove. “Not always. It's nice to know you have a few teeth.”
 
Dropping her chin to her chest, she said, “I'm sorry. It's been a hellacious day. I guess it's all catching up to me. Why are you helping me?”
 
“Which reason would you accept? I've been accused of being a white knight. I help because I think it is something that my mom would do. I help to honor a promise. More importantly, I helped you because you needed it. If I hadn't helped you, I probably would have a problem looking in the mirror next time I needed a shave.”
 
Theresa looked at him for a long moment before a smile crept on her face. He hadn't looked at her at all during his explanation. The same feeling of relief she had felt earlier came into her again. “What are you cooking?”
 
He smiled without looking at her. “I've got a pot of chili going for tomorrow in the slow cooker. Chicken and Spanish rice for tonight.”
 
“Do you need some help?” she offered.
 
“If you're handy with a knife, Theresa, there's a couple of peppers in the fridge that you can chop up for this.”
 
“Trese. I like to be called Trese by my friends.”
 
“I'd like us to be friends,” he said smiling at her. “How old are you, Trese?”
 
His question caught her off guard. “I...I'm nineteen. Like I told the sheriff.”
 
Jason stopped what he was doing to stare at her. “I think Theresa, that if we're going to be friends that there's a few things we need to get straight. One: don't lie to me. It's really simple. If I ask you a question that you aren't willing to answer, say so. Don't lie.
 
“Two: the sheriff didn't believe that you're nineteen any more than I did.”
 
“Then why did he let me come with you?” Her eyes burned, but she refused to shed the tears.
 
“Because he trusts me, for one thing, and he thought that you would be better off with a friend than with a State agency and juvenile detention.”
 
Theresa had a hard time looking him in the eye, so she looked down at her socked feet. “Sixteen.”
 
Jason nodded. “Are you running from or to?”
 
She didn't know what to do with her hands. Theresa fidgeted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other and tangling her fingers in the hem of the shirt she was wearing. “From. I...I don't want to talk about that.”
 
“Fair enough, Trese. Peppers. You can use the knife I just rinsed off.”

Tara took a drag from her cigarette. She held the smoke in for a long moment, before slowly blowing it out through pursed lips. Her attention was divided. One part of it was on Michael, who was busy romping through the snow to the best of his ability along the shore of the frozen lake. The rest of her attention drifted to the lonely figure of a man.

 

Jason shifted from one position, flowing easily into another, doing his exercise routine. Katas, Tara reminded herself. She wondered how he made it seem so simple. She wondered about Jason. He had made no complaint about having to chop his own firewood when he had rented the cabin from her mother. To her surprise, he had even filled their bin. Tara had watched him once, when he was chopping the wood. He went at it like a man possessed.

 

Taking a last puff from the cigarette, Tara flicked the butt into the snow and turned back to Michael. “Michael! Get back here! It's not safe on the ice!”

 

“I'm getting my ball!” her son called back to her while pointing further out on the frozen lake. The wind across the open ice blew the ball further and further away.

 

“You can't get it. Get off the ice! Now!”

 

“But Mom!” Michael stomped his braced foot in a fit of childish defiance.

 

Tara moved closer without going out on the ice herself. “Michael, it isn't safe. I'll get you a new ball. Come back...” There was a loud crack and her son disappeared. “...In,” she whispered. “Oh, god,” Tara said quietly as reality set in. “Michael!” she screamed. “Help! Someone help!” Oh, please,” she screamed, begging.

 

Jason passed her in a running dive. He plowed through the thin layer of snow and slid into the hole in the ice, disappearing into the dark water that had claimed Michael.

Well over an hour had passed when Marlene opened the door. “There you are. I've been looking all over for you.” She closed the door quietly behind her.
 
Jason's attention never wavered from the pictures. “You could have just asked Mentor.”
 
“Where's the fun in that if you want to play hide and seek?” Her eyes darted to the pictures. “Is this what you've been doing? Thinking? Brooding? Trying to figure out what happened? Turn it off, Mentor.” The wall screen went dark. Marlene crossed the room carefully in the dimness that remained.
 
She leaned back against the desk, her hands gripping the edge on either side of her. “What are you thinking?”
 
“Reaffirmation Day.”
 
“What about it?” Marlene asked with some concern.
 
Jason leaned back in the chair and sighed. “Before your meeting, I had another meeting. Kris and Stinger.”
 
“He's the one that kind of looks like a giant hornet?”
 
Jason nodded. “He wanted to talk. First to me and then with Angelique. He told me that Artie had a game in motion.”
 
Marlene hiked her skirt up a bit and sat up on the desktop, kicking her shoes off and crossing her ankles. “What does that mean?”
 
“Darque has a habit of playing a game of chess with someone.”
 
Marlene ran her fingers through her hair. “That Arkayne person?”
 
“I assume so, based on what Adalene said. They choose people for pieces. From what Stinger said, Artie has been learning from Anton.” Marlene wanted to ask a question, but bit it back, letting Jason tell her in his own way, realizing at the same time that he was working through the puzzle. Looking for a pattern, the way Adalene had described Jason after Reaffirmation Day. “You have fifteen men on the field.
 
“Mentor, put up a chess board on the wall.” The wall screen lit up, displaying the board. “Now, put me in as the white king.” A star burst appeared in the designated square. “Put Artie in as the black king.” “Artie Stephen Rocco-Bauer” appeared in the square of the black king. “Without your sense of humor, Mentor.”
 
“My apologies.” The name was deleted and left with a simple “Artie”.
 
Jason brought his hand up in a closed fist and rested his chin on it. “Now, the question becomes, who does Artie have as his pawns, rooks, knights, bishops and queen? The game that he's playing is blind. He is also choosing who my pieces are.”
 
“How can you be sure?”
 
There was a crimson flash in Jason's closed fist and then he held it out to Marlene. She lifted hers to take what Jason offered. He dropped a crystal pawn into her palm. It was severed in two. “I found that on her table when I went in to heal her.”
 
Marlene gave him a concerned look. “That's evidence. If Detective Harris finds out you have this...”
 
“He won't. He had officers on her door constantly. How did it get in there?”
 
“A nurse or orderly?”
 
Jason shook his head. “Warp. He teleported it in and left it for me to find.”
 
“How can you be sure?”
 
“Because, for one, I saw it appear.” Jason stared at Marlene for a long moment.
 
“And?”
 
Jason pursed his lips. He was caught between wanting to protect Marlene and keeping her in the dark about how his life sometimes was and a day-old promise not to keep things from her. The promise won out. With another crimson flash he appeared a cream colored envelope with a broken red wax seal and black ribbon. He handed it to Marlene.
 
She gave Jason a questioning look. Marlene lifted the flap and slid out a single announcement card. It said, in an elegant script, simply, “When two objects collide, there is always damage of a collateral nature.” Marlene read it again. Her brow furled.
 
“So, Artie is a fan of A Game of Shadows.”
 
“You've seen it?”
 
Marlene nodded. “Beth and I went. Holmes went to Moriarty to ask that Watson and his wife not be used against him. Moriarty told him, 'In answer to your previous request regarding Dr. Watson not being involved, the answer is "no": the laws of celestial mechanics dictate that when two objects collide, there is always damage of a collateral nature.' Then he went on to explain how Irene Adler died.” Jason gave her a questioning look and Marlene laughed. Her laughter brought a smile to his face. “What?” Marlene asked. “You and Warren aren't the only ones that can throw movie quotes around.”
 
Marlene dropped her chin and cocked her head to the side. She raised an eyebrow at Jason. “Can I ask you something?” Jason nodded. “This Darque, you kept bouncing back and forth. You use his first name then you use his last name. Why?”
 
Jason rocked back in his chair, putting his head against the rest. He thought for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to answer. “I...” he began. “I respect him. As an adversary and as a man. Dating Angelique required that I sometimes interact with him. Part of me wants to like him.”
 
“But?”
 
“I use his last name to remind myself of what he is.”
 
“What about Artie? You don't respect him?”
 
Rubbing his chin, Jason said, “No. I've never respected Artie. Especially not since that night at the Stevens' party.”
 
Lifting her legs and resting her feet in Jason's lap, Marlene ran a hand down her leg to her ankle. “Isn't that part of how you got so messed up?”
 
Jason gave her a humorless smile and shook his head. “I underestimated him. That has nothing to do with respect. Artie has power. It was given to him. He didn't earn it. I can't say he really suffered for it.” He absentmindedly caressed Marlene's foot until his fingers touched hers and she laid her fingers over his. “In that, I don't think he has any respect for it. It's just another way for him to cause damage.”
 
“Well, I think...”
 
“Pardon the intrusion, sir. There is a call for you,” Mentor said. Marlene sighed.
 
“Put it through,” Jason told the AI. The wall screen flickered to life again. This time with an image of Ash. “Ash? What's going on?”
 
“Well, Jason, I though you should know.” Ash turned her camera to Warren and Kate's second story window. Warren, right hand in a cast, was directing Leah and Dani in replacing the window frame.
 
Jason rocked the chair forward. “What happened?”
 
Ash flipped the camera back to her. “We had unexpected company. One of those mechanized assassins, Warren's 'killbot', showed up.” Jason's mouth drew tight.
 
“Is everyone okay?” Marlene asked.
 
“Yeah,” Ash said smiling. “Except for Warren's hand. He broke it disabling the bot. Jason, the first shot that it took, it was targeting Kate. The shot went through the window and took out that antique mirror of her grandmother's. At the distance, I assume it had to rely strictly on its visual sensors and none of the fancy targeting. Or it would have realized that it was aiming at a reflection.”
 
“Is there any other damage?” Jason asked.
 
Ash quirked a smile at the camera. “Just my shirt. It fired one of those freezer rounds. I figured hitting me with whatever it had fired was better than it hitting Warren's house. The girls are getting frustrated with him. He's pretty frustrated that he can't fix it himself.”
 
Jason hung his head in thought. “Was there anything around after? A clue? Anything?”
 
“Yeah.” Jason's raised his head to look at the image of Ash. “There was an envelope addressed to Leah. Plastic film, both the envelope and the sheet inside. It read, 'My condolences on your loss.' And signed, 'Steven'.” Rocking back in the chair again and turning his head away from the screen, Jason rested his chin on a thumb and ran the side of his finger below his bottom lip. “What are you thinking?”
 
He turned his attention back to the screen. “Nothing else was found? Maybe a crystal chessman?”
 
Ash shook her head, “No. We did a pretty extensive sweep. We're turning over the remains to Wildfire. What's left, anyway. You know how those things burn themselves up.”
 
“Yeah,” Jason said quietly. “What about Kate's mirror? Is it salvageable?”
 
“That's taken care of,” Ash told him. “Warren called Binder. She's here working on putting it all back together. Promised Kate that it would never be broken again.”
 
Jason sighed. One less thing to worry about. “That's good,” he said, nodding to himself.
 
“Jason?” He looked up. “How are things there? How is Jessica?”
 
“She's good, Ash. All patched up.”
 
“That's good, too,” the blonde said with a smile. “Anything on the archer?”
 
“Not yet. I sent what I had to Callahan. Told Michaels to get it to him and have him get in touch after. I'm still waiting on that call.”
 
“Then I guess I'll let you go. Take care of him, Marlene.”
 
“I plan on it, Ash,” Marlene said smiling at Jason. The screen went dark. “You're tired. You need to rest.” Jason's hand found its way back to Marlene's foot in his lap.
 
“I'm not tired.”
 
“No. You're not. You're exhausted. If you aren't interested in sleep, then I'm interested in distracting you,” she teased lightly.
 
Jason uncrossed Marlene's ankles and held one in each hand as he stood. “Desk fantasy, Miss Palmer?”
 
Marlene gave him a smoldering look. “I've had desk fantasies, Mr. Scott, but it wasn't this desk. If it is fantasy fulfillment you're thinking of, I used to fantasize about you coming in my room at night and having your way with me until the wee hours of the morning.”
 
“You don't really have a room here right now,” he said, his voice low.
 
Marlene smiled. “Then we'll have to look into one of the other ones. Like where you cart me off to your room and have your wicked way with me.” She picked Jason's tie up off the desk. “So, shall we?” She rubbed her foot against his side.
 
“What do you have in mind?” he asked, leaning in close to her.
 
Jason's fingers caressing her legs made her moan. “Whatever you'd like? Experiment a little?” she said breathlessly. Jason leaned in and kissed her. His fingers slipped his tie from hers and Marlene pressed her hands against his chest, teasing at his buttons. “Jason? What?” she asked in surprise when the tie bound her wrists together.
 
He knelt down and slipped his fingers into her shoes. Then, standing back up, he easily lifted her with one hand and tossed her over his shoulder. “You wanted to be carted to my room. You're being carted,” he teased her back.
 
Out in the hall they ran into Trese. “What's going on?” she asked.
 
“I'm carting Marlene to my room,” he told her playfully. Marlene laughed.
 
“Uh huh.”
 
Jason turned to go before turning his attention back to the redhead. “I'm expecting a call from Callahan. It is absolutely imperative that I talk to him, Trese. No matter what, let me know when it comes in.”
 
“Is it about Jessica?”
 
“Yes.”
 
Trese nodded. “As soon as the phone rings.”
 
“Thank you.”
 
“Go...whatever it is you're going to go do.”
 
Jason quirked a smile at her. “Whatever I want.” He turned away and headed down the hall. Marlene smiled and waved at Trese with bound hands. Trese gave her a questioning look and then shook her head. She turned in the opposite direction. She stopped when Marlene squealed and, “Jason, that tickles!” echoed down the hall.
 
Shaking her head and muttering, “Children”, under her breath, Trese went on her way.

“I see,” she said coldly. She thought for a moment before her face brightened. “Well then, I won't keep you gentlemen. A lovely party, Jason. Thank you for the invitation.”
 
“Good evening, Julia,” Jason said with a nod of his head.
 
Jordan saluted to her with his hooked hand. “Miss Frost. Ever a pleasure.” Julia gave a shallow curtsy, spun on her heel and clicked her way back to the stairs. “To see you leave,” Jordan added quietly when she was out of earshot.
 
Jason turned his attention back to the dance floor. Jordan followed suit. There was a slow song playing. Warren held Kate close while they danced. Irish was sitting on the window seat, shoes off and rubbing one foot. She was chatting animatedly with Emily.
 
Brad danced slowly with Jennie while looking elsewhere. Jason didn't need his link to know that Leah was in the direction Brad was looking. Jason shook his head slowly. Marlene was nowhere in sight.
 
“Are you sure you're doing the right thing? I've never known you to go into battle without a plan?”
 
Of the three options, Jason choose the one closest in his mind. “If it was anyone else, I might have doubts. My godmother once told me that sometimes you need to just follow your heart.”
 
Jordan nodded. “Wise woman, your godmother,” he said.
 
“Except for who she married,” Jason said with a smirk.
 
“Except for that,” Jordan agreed.
 
Jason toyed with the envelope in his hand before pulling up the flap and taking out a single sheet of stationary.
 
Jason,
 
Sorry for not being there, but I've got a project that I'm working on.
If you are doing what I think you are, and with whom, I can only say it's
about time you opened your eyes to what's in front of you.
 
Much love,
Brianna
 
“You were supposed to come looking for me.”
 
Jason looked up and smiled at “Lady Pulsar”. “I've been watching you all night,” he told her.
 
“From a distance.” She walked slowly towards him and Jason took his time admiring the nuances of her costume. The under layer was an orange body stocking or body suit. The over layer was a high cut leotard, much like a bunny suit, only with a high collar. The star burst was cut out, showing cleavage through the sheer under layer. High heeled yellow pixie boots were on her feet. Yellow gloves matching the cut of the boots covered each hand. Orange lens canopied her eyes in her yellow mask. The lower part, where Pulsar wore a full mask, was open. Her lips were colored a sparkly orange, fading to yellow along the line of her mouth. She spun slowly, allowing Jason to see all of it. “What do you think?”
 
“Very daring, Marlene.”
 
She turned to Jordan and cocked her head up to look at him. “You haven't danced with Irish, Jordan. There's a slow song playing”
 
Jordan smiled. “Why do I get the impression that I'm being dismissed.”
 
“You aren't, but I'm about to do something that might embarrass you again.” Jordan nodded to Jason and headed towards the stairs.

I can barely stand this post.

Tribble Bots Roll Out! - Tribble Prime

Great series of Cute Pics. 
 
Great outfits and cute kids. 
 
QM

QM, added my character thread to my signature. I'll work on keeping that updated. I'll edit the first post there to do a cast list. Work for you?

Knot what I was expecting. Kinda sappy really.
 
Time to leaf and pun.
 
QM

Knot what I was expecting. Kinda sappy really.
 
Time to leaf and pun.
 
QM

The wooden bench was uncomfortable to sit on. No matter how she adjusted, Theresa couldn't overcome the fact there was no padding. Not for the seat, nor for the back. She was still wearing Jason's long coat. She had refused anything from the sheriff, since all they had available was intended for prisoners; orange pants, shirts and jumpsuits.
 
The sheriff had taken her statement. He had asked her questions. No matter what he asked, her story that she gave in her statement didn't waver. Questions about her and her life she obfuscated or outright ignored.
 
They had taken pictures so that there was a record of the state of he clothing. A female deputy had taken the pictures. She had ordered Theresa to take off her clothes so that they could inspect her for wounds or bruises. Theresa refused, saying that she had been camping rough and was bruised from that. Close enough to the truth in her mind.
 
She didn't want to press charges. She just wanted the situation to go away.
 
Theresa knew that they were discussing her by the way the sheriff kept looking at her. Jason turned to her and smiled warmly.
 
One of the deputies had his lunch out on his desk. The smell of food was causing her stomach to rumble. The sandwich Leah had given her was hours ago. She looked up from the burger only to find the sheriff staring at her. She pulled Jason's coat tightly closed. She started reading the bulletins hanging on the wall for what seemed to be the thousandth time.
 
She was startled when the sheriff asked, “Well, Deputy?” not ten feet away from her.
 
“Nothing, Sheriff. No wants. No warrants. She hasn't been declared missing.”
 
“Thank you.” The sheriff turned to look at her. He was an Indian. His hair was silver and his face lined. The sheriff's eyes seemed to bore into her, trying to find her secrets. “Well, Miss Gardner,” he said kindly. “I have no reason to hold you, although I wish you were more willing to help.”
 
“They didn't hurt me. I just want to get on with what I was doing.” Theresa was frustrated. Part of her wanted to cry. The lessons Burt, her stepfather, had taught her kept the tears at bay.
 
The sheriff nodded slowly. “All right. Is there any way we can get in touch with you if we need to?”
 
“I...” her mouth started moving, but no words seemed willing to come forth. Jason smiled warmly at her again, locking his eyes with hers.
 
“She'll be with me, Sheriff. If you need to get in touch with her, just call me,” Jason said.
 
Theresa didn't understand it, but she felt relief. She nodded in agreement. Jason held his hand out and helped her once again to her feet. There was more said between the two men, but Theresa didn't catch any of it. One moment she was standing in the sheriff's office, and the next Jason was helping her into the back seat of the Range Rover.
 
Jason slipped into the front and cocked his seat back a little before locking his belt. Leah drove the car out of the parking lot and out on to the road, headlights slicing through the dark. Night had already fallen, the sun having sunk behind the mountains. Theresa dozed while Leah and Jason talked quietly.
 
About twenty minutes down the road from the sheriff's station, Theresa jerked awake. She said, “You can pull over and let me out here.”
 
In the rear view mirror, Leah gave her a questioning look. Jason turned in his seat. “I can't do that, Theresa,” he said with a smile. He reached back and gently laid his hand on her leg.
 
“Why? Because you gave the sheriff your word?” she asked nervously, dropping her chin to look at his hand where it lay atop his coat.
 
“No,” he said gently. “Because I gave it to you.” Once again a sense of relief flooded her. “Besides,” Jason said, getting himself re-situated. “Your coat didn't survive the hunting knife. You want to get out here, you aren't keeping mine.” Theresa smiled to herself, hearing the humor in his voice.

Yes Sir you are correct. I did say 24yrs ago. 
 
LOL
 
QM

This well-experienced superhero comes to us from the work of Andreas Englund--
 

 
Don't let his age fool you--he can still dish it out with the best of them--
 

First off, John Wick's Wield kickstarter is off and running today!!!  And it already has met 2 of its stretch goals as I write this.  It seems like a really cool little game where you play an artifact, like Stormbringer, instead of "human" protagonist like Elric.  I posted the cover art before, but will do it again, as well as two of the interiors I did for the book.  
Here is the link to the Wield kickstart:  https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/2006204732/wield-a-little-game-about-ancient-powers
 
And here is the cover and interiors:  



Next up is a new project for me.  I call it the bugs and drugs.  I'm working with Mitreos development and this is a Kickstarter project that already was successful before I was called in.  The idea is to take various viruses and illness as well as beneficial drugs and such, and make a fantasy world out of them.  So, for example, I was called upon to do Streptomycin.  
 
Here is my exact illo brief:  A shepherd (female) guarding horses, cattle, sheep, and orchards, with a glowing Shepherd's staff. She recently changed sides to the forces of good even though she used to be a bacteria (the antibiotic is actually a byproduct of bacteria)
From little I have seen, it is really neat stuff.  My wife, the nursing professor, was mildly amused too.  And from the art side, it is an interesting challenge, as the art serves quite a few masters.  There is a roleplaying tome like two page spread (so the character is alone, no background), as well as posters, as well as art for the collectible card game.  I did the art quite large for the poster size stuff and worked down from there.
 
Next, I'm working on Ertapenem, another "good guy" heroine drug interpretation.  
 
The link to their website is here:  http://bacterionomicon.com/
And the art!

 
Hope y'all get a kick outta the artwork.  

Jason turned the corner and stepped off the landing, taking the last few stairs to the main hall. Sharon, wearing a leotard that left very little of her figure to the imagination, came out of the kitchen. “Sharon,” Jason said quietly. She turned towards him. Jason tried to smile at her, fully aware that she couldn't see his expression. “I looked for you last night.”
 
“Our planning session went late. Dan Thomas has a relatively narrow window of operation.” She pulled her hair back and put it up in loose ponytail. “What did you want to see me about?”
 
“I wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday about you being crippled. I'm sorry.”
 
“Jason, you know that Dan Thomas was not responsible for what happened to me. Someone else was. With your abilities, I don't see it ever being an issue for you.” Sharon turned in the direction she had been headed when Jason called to her. “Dan is not a bad man. He's in a difficult position, doing a thankless job. Sometimes he needs help.”
 
“And the first time I agree to do his dirty work it opens the door for the next time. You say he's not a bad man. That doesn't necessarily entail that he's a good man, either.”
 
Sharon canted her head as if looking at Jason from the corner of her eye. “Sometimes there is a thing as necessary evil. 'When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will fall, one by one, an unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle.'1”
 
“'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.' Also attributed to Burke. I don't know, Sharon. It just... it rubs me the wrong way, I guess.”
 
“Tell you what. I was going to do some katas, but how about we spar a few rounds? Say best two out of three. If I win, you sit in on our planning meeting today and listen to what Dan has to say.”
 
“And if I win?”
 
Sharon smiled. “You come up with something and let me know what it is. If you win.”
 
Jason stared at her for a long moment. “I'll need to change.”
 
1Edmund Burke

The plan! Serve the designs of Chaos by going to an Imperial shrine world, infiltrating a convent, seducing a few of the nuns to Evil, and leaving them to spread the infection across the sector. This should do our reputations a lot of good - some of the Chaos Gods are impressed by that sort of audacity, at least when it works.

Jrska: With my Dark Soul I've already got two levels of Fear vs. the Ecclesiarchy. And since we're going in disguised as the Inquistion, they're right to be scared either way.

Such a plot also gives the GM a chance to dig out the Dark Heresy book that covers faith-based characters.

Pious Arsehole: I am a paragon of light! .... Where did this sword through my chest come from?
Jrska: Pity you weren't a paragon of dodge

GM: You're going to the Shrine World of Voluptua
Jrska: *giggle*
Cassius: Voluptua?! Really? We don't even need to change the name!
GM: Nestled between...
All: LOL
Cog: Please, tell us exactly what it's nestled between
GM: The omens are favourable, my lord

Jrska: Good little heretek *pats his head*
Cog: I swear I'll weld her door shut.
Cassius: You want to lock her in with all her toys?
Jrska: Cog, I've burnt out the motor in this one again, can you fix it?

Rather like warfare, space travel in the 40k setting is periods of boredom punctuated by terror. The terror comes while travelling through the Warp. Sub-light travel once we're back in real space and joining the queue of pilgrimage ships, Battle-nun transports, and hospital ships, is more than boring enough.

Aladar: I'm glad we live so long, these delays are terrible.
Cog: Lord Cassius is going to live forever, we'll die of old age.
Jrska: Speak for yourself, I'm going to be a demon princess *poses in imaginary Disney Princess dress*

One oddity about the branch of the Imperial cult on Voluptua is the way they downplay the actual identity of the saint they venerate. Not unheard of, but intriguing. It might be related to the minor export they have of psycho-reactive minerals. Perhaps the nameless saint was a psyker themselves? Not something they'd want to advertise.

We decide a low-key entry is best. Loudly proclaiming our 'Inquisitorial' status will attract too much attention. A covert insertion past all those paranoid starships too risky. So we simply announce our arrival and let them worry for themselves.

Jrska: This is the Inquistorial ship 'Chains of Judgement'. Make ready a berth. Any delay will be noted.

Jrska convinces her master that it will be more believable if she pretends to be the one in charge - Cassius cautiously agrees, but assures her of his swift retribution if she fucks up. Since Cassius and Jrska are slightly more difficult to disguise, we'll send Aladar and Cog ahead to arrange landing permission and transport.

Jrska: The most important part of a disguise is to distract the observer from the actually distinguishing features. May I suggest the Spanish Galleon? *holds up giant black codpiece*
Cassius: Well, nobody will be looking at his face...
Jrska: Exactly.

True, neither Cog nor Aladar are quite as skilled in lying as Jrska, but we do have micro-bead comlinks.

Aladar: Jrska can coach you over the micro-bead. Her tongue is in your ear.
Jrska: blalalalalalah.

Aladar: I don't think I could handle a minion
Jrska: We know. We don't trust you to be responsible for anybody. Even yourself.

The cleric that greets us asks us not to bring any heavy weapons down into the shrine-cities, despite his cautious welcome.

Customs-Priest: We don't desire damage to our shrines and temples.
Jrska: Heritage listed buildings...
Aladar: We will of course require our personal arms.
Jrska: Nothing rated for urban renewal.

Aladar is bringing a lascannon anyway. He justifies this on the grounds it's fitted with suspensions, so isn't heavy at all. The suspicion from the Sisters of Battle that escort Cog and Aladar around the spacedock is heavy, however. They ask a few questions about our purpose here, and Cassius' suggested imperial proverbs aren't dissuading them.

Jrska: The Emperor favours the closed mind.
Cassius: Blessed is the mind too small for doubt.

Aladar: There is a person in the tower with information we require.

Jrska: Why not tell them the truth? We have information that agents of the enemy intend to infiltrate the tower.

Aladar completely botches his explanations. Possibly it's the giant codpiece, or the way he forgot to come up with a fake name.

Jrska: Why do we keep sending him on mission-critical tasks?
Cassius: *headdesk* I. Don't. Know.

Happily, he manages to recover. However, it doesn't bode well. And the Sister's distinctly alarmed reaction when we mention the Tower of Silence - the convent where Sisters go after a crisis of faith - is very odd. Perhaps there's already something going on they don't want the Inquisition knowing about?

Cassius: 'To question is to doubt'

Jrska: 'We could tell you, but then we'd have to kill you.'

The escorts asks for time to prepare. Perhaps they can bring the person we want to meet to meet us, rather than disturb the convent?

Jrska: It does not suit our purposes to give them any time to prepare.

They reluctantly agree, but instead use the time to organise a company of Battle-nuns to amass near the convent. Just in case there HAS been corruption, and we need back-up. Although they insist it is unlikely any infiltration of the convent has taken place.

Sister of Battle: The sisters come into contact with each other, but not outside the convent.
Cassius: The convent of the Blended Petals
Jrska: The Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence.
Sister of Battle: They interact-
All : LOL
Jrska: I want to film this entire mission. We'll have a home movie that would make Ken Russell green with envy.

We start hitting problems immediately - the sheer piety of the locals is grating intensely on our nerves. Judging by the way we have to keep spending Infamy points to reroll willpower checks, we're finding it very difficult to not just run amok through the crowd, like wolves among sheeple.

Jrska: It's not that I hate the Ecclesiarchy - hate is too Khornate. But I do consider them with withering contempt. They're so rabidly anti-fun.

Local Shuttle Pilot : kumbaya, my lord, kumbaya....
Jrska: I'll give him a kumbaya....

Jrska: It's the stench of incense and unwashed pilgrims.

Even Cassius is having difficulty in not lashing out.

Jrska: Obviously the way i'm pretending to be in charge is rubbing you the wrong way.

GM: Some of the more annoying street-preachers are going to be found dead in alleys later, but you manage to refrain from killing them right there in front of the crowd.

Jrska: I've only been here ten minutes and I'm already in serious need of relaxation.
Cog: You're pent up

Once we're out of town ( overtaking the convoy of Sisters who 'just happen' to be going out for training near the convent ) we can relax and decide which of the Ruinous Powers to dedicate the mission to.

Jrska: Dedicating this compact to Slaanesh will help us fit the tongue to the ear. *long, slow, lick of her muzzle.*

Goals of the compact include taking some of the sisters with us when we go - Jrska has another. Seducing one of the nuns and leaving her behind when we go. Mostly because it'll be an amusing challenge.

The Tower of Silence is a very typical fortress-nunnery. The psychic aura around the plateau is more unusual.

Jrska: So they've built the nunnery on top of an outcropping of psychically active rock? Gee, that was bright.

We're tracked by heavy bolter emplacements as we march up to the door. Evidently they take their vows of seclusion seriously.

Aladar: I wonder if those are manned.
Jrska and Aladar's: Womanned.
Aladar: Sorry, I didn't know we were being politically correct today.

Jrska bluffs the group inside.

Jrska: We are here on the business of the Inquistion. ( Which is true, since the business of the Inquisition is heresy )

Jrska: We have become aware that agents of Chaos have, or are going to, infiltrate your convent. We are here to determine whether or not this is true.

The Celestan in charge of the convent is mostly convinced, but remains suspicious of Aladar and his Spanish Galleon.

Jrska: Excuse his appearance and behaviour. We find it useful to present a distraction from the actual investigation at times. Think of him as a useful idiot.
Aladar: I grin and bear it.
Jrska OoC: And the rest of us are thinking he's not even useful.

Cassius intends to stay silent, hulking, and generically threatening throughout our stay at the convent. As long as he keeps the robes on, the Sisters can speculate and worry all they like. Is he some kind of servitor? An Arcoflagellant just waiting for the command word to curbstomp everything in sight? Or even a bound daemonhost, locked in a warded exoskeleton to keep it under control? Either way, he can keep passing on telepathic orders to the rest of us. It's not like Jrska has much practise at resisting stray thoughts.

Jrska: My brain is as wide open as my legs.

The Celestan wants to know more details about the rumours that brought us here. We fob her off with ambiguous platitudes. The news that the convent hasn't had a new inmate in 20 years does put a slight crimp
in our plans, but we remain confident. Jrska effortlessly passes Cog off as a tech-priest here to review the security systems. ALL the security systems.

Cassius: Those who keep silent can hear.
GM: What does that even mean???
Cassius: Whatever we want it too.

Aladar: I'll follow Cog
Cog: If you help me in any way I will drop you off a balcony.

Cassius: 'The seeds have been planted, and now they have come to harvest.'

Jrska takes a particular pleasure in close examination of the Sisters escorting us, because her Dark Soul is putting them all on edge. They even quietly converse with the Celestan about it.

Battle-nuns: 'She's really scary, miss!'

Jrska: You seem uncomfortable. Guilty conscience, perhaps?

Jrska: Battle-nuns are expected to operate under there own resources for extended periods. Basically, sisters are doing it for themselves.
Cassius, Cog, GM: ...*headdesk*

GM: The security room probably has a tech-priest. Going with the theme, it's most likely a woman - tech-priests aren't fussed by that sort of thing.
Jrska: Tech-priestesses have Etheric Beam Locators.

Cog: What does she look like?
Aladar: She's hot.
Jrska: What does your phrenological assessment of her tell you - 'hmm, good Bump of Technological Innovation there'?

GM: Cog is getting flustered trying to talk to the tech-priestess.
Jrska: It's those double D Etheric Beam Locators.

Cog eventually finds his tongue, and overcomes the tech-priests suspicions by berating her about her maintenance schedules and the way mysterious flickers and rolling security blackouts plague the nunnery. As she flusters, Aladar goes to check the video bank, and prod a few buttons, despite the battle-nun escort.

Aladar: Done any worse and I'd have accidentally switched on the porn channel.
Jrska: AKA the recreation room camera
Cog: All that volleyball team
Cassius: *Headdesk.* I'm used to this sort of thing from these two, but it's disconcerting from you.
Cog's player: I'm sorry, I haven't been sleeping well.

The Sister wants to know why Aladar was checking the video feeds.

Aladar: I'm his assistant.
Jrska: That doesn't reflect well on Cog.
GM: It's hard to tell through the helmet but she seems to be raising an eyebrow.
Cog: Sometimes I need an idiot to test live power-cables.
Aladar: Why am I the butt-monkey?
Jrska: Because you are.

Jrska: I'm worried that army of battle-nuns is outside to stop us getting away if we DO find corruption. Kill us to protect the Sisters' reputation. 'The convent mysteriously blew up. What Acolytes?'

At least the inspection is given us a good understanding of the layout, defences, equipment and possible escape routes - exactly as Jrska planned. The fact that all the nuns, not only our escorts, are kept fully trained with bolt guns to hand and ammo under construction even as we pass by is somewhat worrisome. But we do learn the armoury is stocked with anti-demon rounds. Valuable, if damned souls like ourselves could even handle them without third-degree burns.

GM: No, there's no Pentient Engine here.
Cassius: Pentient or Penitent?
GM: Penitent.
Jrska: 'Penitent Inside'

Aladar actually manages to resist Cassius' telepathic SMS.

Cassius: You actually succeed the one time we want you to fail? You fail at failing!
Jrska: You're surprised you couldn't get your thoughts into his head? Why? Nothing else sinks in.
Cog: He's so thick nothing gets through.

Meanwhile, Jrska is off questioning the youngest inductee to the convent. She's been here 20 years, ever since she survived a demonic incursion that killed all her battle-sisters. Sister Joanna flinches and avoid looking at us, Cassius looms, Jrska asks probing questions, and our escort visibly twitch when she brings up the matter of dreams. Clearly *something* is up at the Tower of Silence.

Joanna is also alarmingly perceptive - she immediately picks Cassius as a psyker, but fortunately Jrska has already ordered the escort from the room before Joanna drops her other bombshell.

Sister Joanna: I don't understand... Why are a mutant and a psyker of the Angels of Death here to see me?

Evidently the situation at the convent is not quite as we believed - it's not just the religiously doubting that come here in retreat. This is where the sisters send the ones that actually go nuts. And keeps them fully armed. On top of a mountain of psychic-reactive crystal.

Jrska OoC: 'I've got a good idea - Let's house these nuclear terrorists in a uranium mine!'

Phantom Lady
 
Val Char Cost
15 STR 5
20 DEX 30
18 CON 16
11 BODY 2
18 INT 8
14 EGO 8
20 PRE 10
18 COM 4
7 PD 4
7 ED 3
4 SPD 10
7 REC 0
36 END 0
28 STUN 0
Total Characteristics Cost: 100 Points
 
Cost Skills
3 Acrobatics 13-
2 AK: Washington, D.C. 11-
3 Breakfall 13-
12 Combat Luck +6 rPD +6 rED
3 Contortionist 13-
3 Conversation 13-
3 Criminology 13-
3 Fast Draw 13-
3 High Society 13-
4 Martial Block
4 Martial Disarm
4 Martial Dodge
4 Marital Strike
3 Martial Throw
5 Money: Well Off
5 Offensive Strike
2 Rep: Crime Fighter 11-
3 Shadowing 13-
3 Stealth 13-
3 Streetwise 13-
Total Skills Cost: 75 Points
 
Cost Powers
6 Armor +4 rPD + 4r ED, OIF[bulky]: Sports Car (-1)
33 Multipower (50 Points) IAF: Black Light Ray (-1/2)
3 u) EB 8d6, [32c] (+1/4)
3 u) Flash [sight]  4d6, AE 2" (+1/4), Personal Immunity (+1/4), [32c] (+1/4)
3 u) Invisible [sight], No Fringe, No END (+1/2)
7 ES: RPT, IAF: Concealed Radio (-1/2)
3 ES: UV Sight, IAF: Goggles (-1/2)
3 Flash Defense [sight] 5 Points, IAF: Goggles (-1/2)
2 Running +1"
12 Running +5", 8x NCM, No END (+1/2), Only On Appropriate Terrain (-1/2),  OIF[bulky]: Sports Car (-1)
Total Powers Cost: 75 Points
 
Total Cost: 250 Points
 
150+ Disadvantages
10 DNPC: Senator Henry Knight, Father (Unaware Useful Normal) 8-\
5 Hunted: Gossip Columns (Less Powerful/NCI/Watch) 8-
20 Normal Characteristics Maxima
20 PsyL: Code Of The Hero (Very Common/Strong)
20 PsyL: Superpatriot (Common/Total)
10 SocL: Secret Identity [sandra Knight] (Occasionally/Major)
15 Vuln: Ambushes/Treacherous Attacks, 1 1/2x STUN (Very Common)
Total Disadvantages Cost: 250 Points

You mean this ?


Personally this is my favourite