Name:False: [Jane Shepard] Real: [Jade Smarke]
History: Child of two cultists, Jade was to be sacrificed to some nameless horror when she was 12. The ritual interrupted by a mysterious group, Jade saved and taken into care. Her parents riddled with bullets and bleeding behind her, Jade never looked back. Trained as a long-distance problem-solver, Jade grew up in the company of people who faced horrors for a living - she grew up silent and grim, rarely if ever cracking a smile. She spent her days on the firing range, spending high-calibre rifle rounds downrange.
She went on her first mission when she was 18. Now she's 26, and along the way she picked up a slight addiction to opiate painkillers. A guilty secret - she knows it's bad, and she has to stop, but she always takes just one more...
A tacturn, dark-skinned woman, Jade (or as she goes by, Jane Shepard) is a part of a eldritch-abomination hunting group known as the Crimson Shield. With the aid of her team, she found monsters and those who would wake them and discourage such activities. A hunt gone wrong left her alone out of the seven in one piece, the in a rest in thirty pieces between them. Technically discharged for medical leave, Jane does not seem to have left well enough alone...
Always seems to be wearing some kind of hat. No particular reason. She just likes hats.
Items: "Love Tap" OSV-96 Anti-material rifle w/ scope, bipod (folded) inside carrying case
A heavy rifle, folded inside a generic looking carrying case. The name of the rifle is written carefully on the stock in cherry red, with a lipstick style-picture of a pair of lips next to it. Cared for like an old friend, the rifle is one of the most precious things to Jade.
2d12
- carry case
A generic hard plastic case Jane keeps her rifle inside. Just a case. The rifle must be folded and the scope removed before it fits.
- Painkillers, 4 bottles of
Opiate painkillers, far in excess what any person might need.
- Casual clothing
Basic t-shirt, leather jacket and cargo trousers. Beanie hat if it's cold. Baseball cap if it's not. Generic enough to not draw undue attention.
- Wallet
A battered leather wallet. Some cash, some "work" ID in the name Jane Shepard.
- Shooting glasses
A mirrored pair of shooting glasses, designed to protect against dust and rifle discharge. Slightly scratched.
- Hidden Knife
A vicious knife, one edge serrated, hidden in the small of her back under the leather jacket. Could do someone a mischief with this, that's for sure. (Lw, 1d6)
Armor: 5
100
Guns: 50
Melee: 15 Melee was never her forte. Try as she might, she never could put on too much muscle mass.
Agility: 15
Knowledge: 20 She never bothered to learn too much - she just aimed and fired.
Charisma: 0. Quiet and unfriendly, she has a surly demeanor. She left the talking to the others.
Abilities: One shot, One kill
You search the room looking for cultist material. You don't find anything out of the ordinary at all. The room was completely clean, with signs of life every once and a while. It doesn't look like anybody erased evidence here, but it doesn't look like anybody left any evidence in the first place either. However, looking under the bed you see a lever action Marlin Model 336 hunting rifle that looks ever so slightly out of place, as if someone had recently moved it. Picking it up, you find that there is a round in the chamber and the safety off, but its magazine is full. Never got a shot off.
You turn around-preparing to leave the relatively clueless room for something else, when you see something out of the corner of your eye. There is a small outline in the open, emptied dresser. You go closer to the dresser, slowly pulling the loos square of wood out of place. You find a circular wall safe, locked securely to the wall.
What do you do now?
======================
Name: Old Man Bridger
History: -Engaging First-person Monologue-
It was a cold gray September morning when I came outside to realize it had been taken. My entire collection of vintage lawn ornaments, stolen in the night! I knew it was those damned religious nuts over in the building down the road. Damned crazy scientologists over there were always parading about with rare lawn statues and such. They took my '97, my '86, even my '53 collectors' flamingo! I knew something had to be done. A man doesn't take another man's decorations. That's a capital crime in Florida, and this place sure is sunny. I strapped on my glove and picked up my gun, and headed down the road.
Items:
Leather Glove, Black Fedora, Gray Wifebeater, Pink Bathrobe, Gray Cargo Pants, Pink Bunny Slippers, ID Card, Wallet, '90s cell phone, Bottle of Whiskey, .357 S&W Magnum(2d6), Combat Knife(LW,1d6), Sasha, Celine, Mr. Smith, Eric Clapton, Joan, Bill Nye, Henderson, Little Joe (Combat Fitted) (Sub machine gun 1d10)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Duel Wield
You are escorted to the courthouse in handcuffs, your lawyer Mr. Birdman waiting at the door. "Put these on, they make you look less threatening!" he states as soon as he sees you, handing you a pair of novelty Groucho glasses. "My last ten cases refused, and they all got the death sentence! You wear them, and I guarantee your freedom!" he continues to whisper as you enter the actual courthouse.
The seats are all packed for this high profile case. You can see the glare of hundreds of people all pointing at you, glaring as you walk down the middle. You sit in your seat next to the lawyer, allowing you to see the jury glaring at you. Except one seat of the jury, where a certain falcon is sitting. He gives subtle wink from his spot, filling you with hope.
"Mr. Bridger. You have been accused of first degree murder, arson, assaulting an officer of the law, breaking and entering, and illegal possession of armed falcons. How do plead?"
================
Name: Aiden Wainright
History: An Ex-English teacher who after getting fired because he mouthed of the head head of the school-board became a PMC after his entire squad was massacred by various Eldritch beings. He has since been tracking down any he can find and making sure they cease to exist.
Items:
-A Barrett M107A1 with bipod and custom carrying case labeled with Fenris in large gothic font. (2d12)
-A Beretta M9A1 (1d10)
-An ACU (Army Combat Uniform) with an Advanced Combat Helmet with goggles and balaclava.
-A large black trenchcoat with no pockets.
-And a large Malamute that follows him everywhere.
Armor: 5
Guns:35
Melee:0
Agility:10
Knowledge:25
Charisma:30
Abilities: One Shot, One Kill
((Wait what would've happened if I watched the tape there? Were they eldritch beings in disguise or would they have died for my stupidity.))
I'm the only one who will ever know.
You get up, walking on the blackness away from the face. Your footsteps echo as if you where walking on a hard wood floor, as the voice once again speaks up.
"Do you think you can get away?" it states.
The floor and sky flicker, as is they where giant televisions being turned on. With in seconds the ground is covered in tiny sparks, static making up its entirety. High above you, the sky has transformed to a wall of static as well. As far as you see in any direction, static makes up the sky and ground, with no hints of stopping.
From the static, the outlines of faces start to emerge. Small masks like the one on your television appear around you, with more detailed and realistic faces appearing a bit further. Distorted faces, like a human made of static who have been edited by Photoshop, soon take their place. Each face varies in size, some are large, some are as small as your hand. Just as in size, in appearance they very, from fluid and moving faces to faces as unmoving as a mountain.
High above you, the static in the sky begins to reform as well. Much larger then the faces below you, much less detailed, as if clouds had been corrupted by a malicious hand. Giant masks, looking down on you from above.
"Did you think you could get away? Did you think you could get away? Did you think you could get away?" the static voices of the mouth less faces state at you, as your feet continue to echo around the bizarre room.
What do you do now?
============
Eh, not crazy about the format I tried with the last one.
Author
Topic: Death May Die- Modern Eldritch Action! Room for one more! (Read 8418 times)