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 attempt to mount the falcon. Unfortunately, due to the meca-falcon having the exact same stats, size, and abilities of as a normal falcon, it fails to lift off. Remembering the shame that happened last time you mounted a falcon, you step off of the poor metal bird. Of course you walk over to your door, close it, then kick it open again, just to satisfy your blood lust for door kicking (door lust sounds weird and wood lust is just misleading.)
What do you do now?
==================
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 larg[spoiler]e Malamute that follows him everywhere.
Armor: 5
Guns:35
Melee:0
Agility:10
Knowledge:25
Charisma:30
Abilities: One Shot, One Kill
You take a deep breath as you look down your scope, trying to focus your aim on an object moving at incredible speed. It is almost as if time slows down as you concentrate. You try to keep your head clear. The monster is in your sights, moving right toward you. It twists around, your scope magnifying the moments an incredible sum. But you can do this...
Your bullet flies out, swatting the center of the monster as it dives toward you, The monster reacts, its once straight path becoming wavy. Instead of dive bombing you, it hits the grass to your right. You can hear the snapping of its limbs that now poke up at odd angles among the dirt that had once fed grass. There is a bloody hole near its center of mass, likely your doing.
Your dog continues to fight, but fairs poorly now. The monster has adjusted to its new opponent, bringing down a sweeping hand on its side and removing a hunk of fur. Your dog yelps, and you notice three trickles of blood coming from its side.
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 take out a small penlight from your traveler's odds and ends, because only a fool would forget something as important as a flashlight. You look toward the mockery, biting your lip just enough to release a bit of blood. You put the blood on your thumb, smearing it over the center of the maze as you hope that would be enough.
You look at it for a second, as it remains motionless. You are about to check it for chipping, wondering if you should sacrifice more blood, when the entire hill begins to shake. You almost loose your balance, as the smaller rocks once again find themselves falling toward the desert sand below. It appears to have worked!
....But only appears to have. There is a second tremor of about the same intensity. Looking down with your flashlight, you can see its true cause. One by one, the bulldozers were running into the side of the hill. Two had already accomplished this task, standing motionless in the side of the hill, as the other heavy equipment moves forward to join in this task.
What do you do now?
===========
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're not making any sense Jane. Is the kid full of holes and dogs made out of smoke? Or is it the woods that is full of holes and smoke dogs? *Sigh*. I always suspected you are on something...."
There is the sound of distant typing in the phone, as you sit around waiting for a few seconds.
"Alright, Jade" he states, using your real name as he gives secret information. "Dogs with the power of smoke and the ability to make holes would probably be Hounds of Tindalos. We don't have much on them, they are hard to get samples of. From what I can tell, they are often used by cultists as assassins. They can apparently use curves to teleport, which they manifest in smoke. They usually attack with tongues that can remove bits of a victim's flesh, I don't know where the maggots and flies came from, or why in hell you cut your own arm. Now could I have the full story?"
What do you do now?
===============
Name: Rachel Lindy Stine
History: A simple housewife with martial arts as a hobby, Rachel isn't the person that people will point to as special. Weird? yes, but special? As a wife of the normal 2.6(3 in this case) family, you can't get much more normal, barring the karate.
However, with a single phone call from her eldest son, Tim, asking for help, sends this mother off to a creepy town. The thing to note is that most horrors have never heard the term 'don't stand between a mother and her cubs.' so Rachel got a lot to overcome if she going to save her kid.
Items:White karate gi-Black belt of course
Hand bag-money, phone, makeup, etc. Also doubles as a swinging weapon.
SUV-It a car. Can't carry it, but I had to get here somehow.
Armor: 5
Guns: 10
Melee: 30
Agility: 25
Knowledge: 15
Charisma: 25
Abilities: Fist of Steel
You return to your car and drive further into the town. Once again you don't see any pedestrians, or anyone inside the cars for that matter. The whole town would look abandoned if it weren't for the large quantity of parked cars on either side of the road, from shiny new Priuses to rusted pickup trucks.
As you move further into town, you find yourself surrounded by chain-stores, McDonald, Target, and a few other name brands. None of the buildings are particularly large, but the parking lots are almost completely full. This might be a good place to look of clues, there are probably a lot more people here then in one of the smaller shops, which means both more answers and more witnesses if something does go wrong.
What do you do now?
Author
Topic: Death May Die- Modern Eldritch Action! Room for one more! (Read 8422 times)