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
Ah, I should probably phrase that better. What I meant was do you want to intentionally get involved, finding a small hint of what is going on, or do you want to start by being attacked?
====================
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)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Art of Throwing
You walk out of the house, the chanting finally stopping. You find yourself humming the tune to yourself, it was rather catchy. Like how you are going to catchy whoever stole your items!
Now, to find a nearest cable station! You rush back to your house and turn on the television, flipping through the channels. Station 1: Static. Station 2: Wishbone the dog reading Call of Cthulhu. You stop to look at the little dog in a tentacle outfit. Cute. Station 3: A girl standing in a field. BINGO!
"...And everything you ever imagined is possible" the televisions states, as you yell at it to give you answers. Before you can attack it, your door bursts open. Somebody hit it open with an uppercut. Looking toward the door, you see a a man who looks almost exactly like Tom Cruise, wearing a white long coat and sunglasses. He walks aggressively for a few steps before he starts punching your floor. "LETS SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!" He yells, as your floor starts to give away.
What do you do now?
=======================
Name: Anders Lang
History: Once a bright linguistics student, Lang managed to finagle his way into an expedition to an ancient temple discovered deep in the Himalayas, and with inscriptions in an unknown script. They entered the temple and began their work, and surprisingly made great success in translating the writings, being able to largely read them within a few months. That was when they discovered a horrifying secret: that the temple was actually a seal over an ancient horror. They thought nothing of it at first, assuming that it was over a volcano or that some ancient wanderer had had a bad trip or something.
However, over the next week the expedition began suffering from mental problems. Fatigue, anxiety, eventually breakdowns. Alarmed, they decided to leave - only to find the gates sealed shut. Lang doesn't remember more than snatches of the next terrifying days, but he does remember fleeing from the final collapse into the depths of the temple, and finding a partially blocked ventilation shaft. Starting the climb. After that, nothing but waking up in the hospital. He has never found any of the others.
Lang was deeply affected by this experience, surprisingly enough; he lived in an obsessive fear of everything for some time, but then determined to end that. Decided that instead of waiting for the dark to come to him, he would go into the dark. That he would fight against that beyond understanding for both himself, and for mankind (mostly himself.) He spent years mastering those tools which would not abandon him as they had on his expedition - his hands, and his will.
Anders is driven by a fear of the Other and of powerlessness, and especially of losing his mind and identity. Not much of true death, but of effective death. He has trained in many martial arts, especially those which focus on agility and which promise the ability of punching out eldritch horrors, and of controlling his thoughts and emotions. He values knowledge, but considers it only a tool for destroying what remains unknown. His hope is to master all which humanity cannot comprehend, and if Death happens to pass that way all the better.
Items:
A close-fitting white suit, cut to allow as effective movement as possible.
A pair of cold iron gauntlets, with lots of religious, occult, and talismanic symbols written on them in silver. Lang isn't sure if any of that helps, but they sure are good for hitting things. Light melee weapons. (1d6)
A necklace with a small lens on it, which symbolizes reason and light and is also pretty cool. It always distorts light in an unusual way, which Lang has memorized exactly.
A small notebook and pencil.
Armor: 5
Guns: 0
Melee: 30
Agility: 30
Knowledge: 20
Charisma:15
Abilities: Proposal: Determinator. The character will not easily give up, whatever faces them. While not actually any tougher, they will be able to withstand more pain, more mental stress and insanity, and to see their decision clearly however confused the situation - though there is no guarantee of that choice being right.
The fishermen wave goodbye and get back to their lunches with disinterest. You quickly return to your car and rush over to the tourist docks, hoping to make it before the ship leaves.
You manage to reach the dock just as the last few people were entering the ship, which looks even more majestic up close. In polar opposite to the fishing boat, it was shinny and new. Almost everything on it looks as if it had never been used, the workers are all young and smartly dressed, and rich-looking tourist walked around it in swimwear.
You rush toward it, walking over a wooden dock that is also new and in good condition. You wave forward for one of the workers, a young man, to talk to.
"The ship is about to leave, I am afraid I can't let you on, sir. My apologize." he states, politely. "Even if you were to pay now, I couldn't let you on. There is a pile of paper work that has to be done for each person on that boat. Insurance reasons, mostly, as well as liability forms and other things our lawyers insist on. If you wish to use our services, you will have to sign up for our six o'clock run and seafood buffet, if we end up having it tonight. It is a somewhat slow day today...." he stated, looking back at the yacht that seems to be filled almost to the brim. "Well, comparatively, for how nice it is." he continues, looking back. He then points toward a building, up past the docks. It is almost a beach house, rich and expensive looking. "You don't even have to call, you could sign up in person since you are already here." he then turned back, seeing the last passenger get on the boat. "Im sorry, sir, but I have to get back to work..." he finishes, as he enters the yacht himself.
What do you do now?
Name: Alfred Simmers
History:
Starting out as an atheistic scholar of theology and the myth associated along with the religions, Alfreds initial goal was to find out more about humanities culture, their roots and how it all fitted together. Piecing together the relations between gods, legends and customs, chasing the divine mono-myth from the norse to the indian gods and further - it all was bound tightly, seperated mostly by the passing of time and distance traveled by mouth.
While investigating the birthplace of the "shangrila" mythos, (an idea quite present in asia, but in scholary circles long known to be lake ural in the more european parts of russia) he was part of - yet another natural drug-utilizing - shamanistic ritual. Not his first, and certainly not his last - but... something happened to Alfred that night, and a piece of the big puzzle he was working on was pieced together. Further Investigations into that new-found sliver of truth were made, relations discovered and at some point, proof was obtained. Proof that was far more than he ever bargained for. Proof, that better had stayed hidden, but impossible to ignore and not to be acted upon.
Nowadays, Dr. Dr. Dr. Simmers (Theology, Mysticism, and Honorary Theoretical {heh} Archaeology [he normally keeps it at one "Dr." for Introductions]) travels quite less, but with more purpose, always keeping at least one armament on himself. He really doesn't want to part with them, you see - he is quite sure that sooner or later he might will need them again, if push comes to shove even for himself...
Items:
- Silenced 9mm: "Never leave the house without it. I mean it. Always leave at least one bullet untouched. Also mean that."
- Sawed-Off Shotgun: "Ah, this feeling of safety... And useful. Really useful."
- 5 Moleskine's: "The one used for accounting and lectures is the only one unencoded. And the most harmless by far. As for the other's content... you don't want to know. Trust me."
- First Aid Kit: "Always stocked with a suspicious number of sedatives, calmatives and sleeping pills. And one undescribed, lethal poison one. Go figure."
- Travelers Odds and Ends: - "Swiss Knive, Lighter, Forged Passports, Light 10m Rope, Binoculars, Pocket Flask of Absinth, Two Pack of Gums - two "kinds" of gum, at that - and a seewing kit. All in a days work."
- Souvenir Pouch: - "Algiz Rune, Visnu Stattuete, O-Mamori, Different Crosses, Talismans, Fetish-y. Not sure any of them do their job, but trying is worth it."
- Traveler Boots: "Never underestimate the quality and state of your footwear. Never."
Armor: 5 - "Luck 's been on my side.. till now that is. Still quite sure that I can't thank any good for it either."
Guns: 23 - "A man's gotta do..."
Melee: 2 - "Yeah.. tried that. Once. Once was enough."
Agility: 15 - "Keeping fit nowadays. Also sleeping way better nowadays."
Knowledge: 55 - "Dr. Dr. Dr. Simmers. Need I say more? ... Figured."
Charisma: 5 - "... long time since I was invited for tea 'cept for polite necessity. Far longer since I took up the offer."
Abilities:
Identify Supernatural: Dr.³ Simmers bread, butter and potential undoing. He knows what he is talking about. Well, almost-certainly-not-talking-about, but still.
You examine the stone closely. The lines were carved with simple tools that you would expect this tribe to have. You notice that it was done incredibly skilfully, the stone is almost unnaturally smooth to the touch. The lines were not deep, maybe a sixteenth of an inch thick, but were often rather wide. All in all, there was nothing else strange about the construction of the stone.
The scientist watches patiently and intently as you examine the wall. He answers your question, after a brief pause to think. "Ve have not received any carbon data yet. Ve have only recently received permission to work with the graves, it is fortunate that this tribe was relatively small no longer in existence, as well of being almost unknown, and this research incredibly beneficial, or ve may have not gotten permission to work here at all. The wall seems impossible to chip-try as I might, I could not get a decent sample off it, for all the good that would do. From vhat we can tell, however, the tomb appeared first. The placement of the graves suggested they decided to build with this as a center. The mummies all died from causes we would expect, though the ritual itself is strange for this area. No close tribes have this custom, however ve believe this tribe originated as a group of exiles from a tribe much closer to the Atlantic who they share many cultural similarities with. They don't build tombs like this down there, either. " he said, often slipping into his accent for brief periods of time.
It was at this time that you are interrupted by one of the workers. "The machines you ordered are almost here, Sir." he states, wiping sweat off his head. "We can see the sand being kicked up from here." he stated. The scientist dismissed him with a wave of his hand, before turning back to you. "Perhaps seeing the inside would make things make more since, yes?" he states, before turning around. "Pack everything up, make room for the machines!" he ordered, which was almost immediately followed, with people taking down the shade-giving tarps.
What do you do now?
Author
Topic: Death May Die- Modern Eldritch Action! Room for one more! (Read 8482 times)