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[SotC] Book 1: The Legion of Mystery in "Death's Odyssey"
DavidalBarron
Registered User regular
Registered User regular
Welcome to the world of Spirit of the Century! Pulp Action in a poorly researched world of plot holes and spelling errors.
THE RULEBOOK
THE WIKI
Book I - "Death's Odyssey"
Prologue
Chapter 1 "Jaded"
Chapter 2 "King Hong Kong"
Chapter 3 "China Crisis"
Chapter 4 "Under the Dome"
DavidalBarron - Spider Frost, hack pulp writer.
Players:
feeddannow - Beasle Wattsworth, Tomb Robber - Dante Rays - Miranda Wattsworth
Mendokusai - Mina/Milo Mengele, Creepy Doctor - Olivia Martini - Reichsinspekteurr Karl
Zombie_Lord_Demus - Ace Steel, Cultist - Jack Irons - The Dreaded Sky-Pirate Roberts
Kiplingskat - Velma Valentine, Sassy Pilot - Jessica Simms - Xander Drake
Irishopolis Murphey O'Malley Mad Scientist - Oliver Albright - Janet the Parrot
Wiki
Note: Until I make a proper wiki, take a look at this thread starting at post 823 for the game info and character sheets. Potential Applications can throw a character in there and make themselves known. I know, I know, unorganized...but that's PULP, baby! 5-6 total characters seems like a good number, but we'll see how it shakes out.
The Five Rules of Pulp
Carefully crafted to keep things moving right along.
1. There is no OOC!
This is the one post that is not assumed to be going into the Book. The only thing in spoiler tags will be rulespeak: rolls (with Tags) and Compel [character]: [Aspect]. For ‘table talk’, there’s a “meta” Real World, all in italics. The Storyteller (i.e. Me) is the hack pulp writer Spider Frost and you are his loyal brainstorming team (just use your own first name or make one up). See gameplay examples. My assumption is that you will metagame your characters, but try your best to have your character Just Say what he plans to do out loud for everybody to hear. It is highly unlikely that this will disadvantage you in any way. Pulp villains will do the same thing anyways.
2. Every Single Post, Your Character Must Use a Skill (and/or a Stunt).
This is pulp action, and we’ve got to keep things moving. Do note, though, that a lot of these skills are remarkably broad. You could just drone on (a fine pulp tradition) and try to Declare something with a sufficiently high Academics, Art, Mystery &c, you could use some social skills (or something else entirely) to try to find out the Aspects of other characters, or you could spend your time with any number of skills trying to add Aspects to scenes. Personal favorite? “On Fire”. Just look at the skill descriptions for suggested uses and go from there. Be ridiculous, that’s...that’s kind of the point.
3. Assume Success and Describe
Once you see the results of a roll and have a reasonable belief that you were successful, describe the successful action in the same post. Likewise with failure, of course. Go with whatever is more interesting if the results are unclear (see Rule 5)! If it happens that you are flat-out wrong, see Rule 4.
4. The more characters that react to a thing before Spider Frost chimes in, the more likely it’s “canon”.
i.e. The More Interesting It Is, the less likely that Spider Frost will go back and change it. Spirit of the Century is not so concerned with fitting the roll as rolling with the results. Remember that I’ll only be updating on those (writing) days when I’ve already written 4000 words for my Career. Sometimes that might not happen due to miscellaneous drama...and sometimes the Internet in my jungle paradise will implode. So be prepared to react and just improvise wildly until I get back the next day to sort it all out. I won’t get mad, and there’ll be rewards! See Rule 5.
5. The “House Rule”: players compel other player’s Aspects
You are all now the equivalent of the cast of a sitcom, where actively screwing each other over is both encouraged and rewarded with Fate Points. Do you spot some way to force a character to act according to his aspects? Compel it! It works the same way as when the Spider Frost compels: If the player accepts, he gets a fate point in exchange for taking the action. The upside is that the compelling will also get a fate point if the compellee accepts and it meets the Spider Frost’s low standard that it was a legitimate compel. As per Rule 3, if you have a murky result on your hands, you can describe Failure, thus encouraging another player to find one of your aspects to compel to make it even more certain (and get the sweet, sweet Fate Points). Rule 5 is essentially simulating the “second act failure” endemic to pulps. This is the almost the only way you’re going to get Fate Points, so work together. You want the shit to hit the fan early so that you have plenty of shit to throw at your mortal foe in the exciting finale.
Style: Third Person, Past Tense; It’s a BOOK, people.
On that Note: Arbitrary Word Count - Each “book” will have a secret word count limit as set by me. Once it hits that limit, the story gets wrapped up as quickly as Deus Ex Machina can do so, and the next book starts. Just to keep things exciting and to encourage everybody to roll along the plot.
Bonus: Make Cover Art!
Roll at Invisible Castle!
#
Example of Play (short)
Post 1 - feeddannow
Beasle Wattsworth sneaked past the cultists while they were occupied with the rest and grabbed the silver idol from the stone altar. Bouncing it in his hands, he giggled, then turned to leave.
Post 2 - Mendokusai
“I think it’d be funny if Beasle got caught right now,” said Mia. “After all, he does have that catchphrase.”
Milo brandished his scalpel at the herd of cultists. “I’ll save you, Marianette Dupont III! Super Scalpel SLASH!” he shouted, slicing and dicing his way toward the captured maiden.
Post 3 - feeddannow
Beasle’s giggle choked off as he heard the head cultist shout and saw a mob rush his way. “I was just borrowing it!” he shouted. Seeing that this was not going to be sufficient, the thief stabbed a finger at the crowd and shouted: “Look! Behind you! It’s-AH!” As most of the cultists turned to stare, the mousy man scampered away, clutching the artifact.
...and so forth. Dan could also attempt to compel one of Milo’s aspects to get back at her (or to cover his retreat?), and they could riff on that for as long as it took to resolve. Once the Storyteller posted, he would thread it all together with the rest of the action and give Dan one fate point for accepting the compel, and Mia one fate point for compelling.
Game on! You're all in-character after the pounds (I'll edit this post with a player list later)
###
THE RULEBOOK
THE WIKI
Book I - "Death's Odyssey"
Prologue
Chapter 1 "Jaded"
Chapter 2 "King Hong Kong"
Chapter 3 "China Crisis"
Chapter 4 "Under the Dome"
DavidalBarron - Spider Frost, hack pulp writer.
Players:
feeddannow - Beasle Wattsworth, Tomb Robber - Dante Rays - Miranda Wattsworth
Mendokusai - Mina/Milo Mengele, Creepy Doctor - Olivia Martini - Reichsinspekteurr Karl
Zombie_Lord_Demus - Ace Steel, Cultist - Jack Irons - The Dreaded Sky-Pirate Roberts
Kiplingskat - Velma Valentine, Sassy Pilot - Jessica Simms - Xander Drake
Irishopolis Murphey O'Malley Mad Scientist - Oliver Albright - Janet the Parrot
Wiki
Note: Until I make a proper wiki, take a look at this thread starting at post 823 for the game info and character sheets. Potential Applications can throw a character in there and make themselves known. I know, I know, unorganized...but that's PULP, baby! 5-6 total characters seems like a good number, but we'll see how it shakes out.
The Five Rules of Pulp
Carefully crafted to keep things moving right along.
1. There is no OOC!
This is the one post that is not assumed to be going into the Book. The only thing in spoiler tags will be rulespeak: rolls (with Tags) and Compel [character]: [Aspect]. For ‘table talk’, there’s a “meta” Real World, all in italics. The Storyteller (i.e. Me) is the hack pulp writer Spider Frost and you are his loyal brainstorming team (just use your own first name or make one up). See gameplay examples. My assumption is that you will metagame your characters, but try your best to have your character Just Say what he plans to do out loud for everybody to hear. It is highly unlikely that this will disadvantage you in any way. Pulp villains will do the same thing anyways.
2. Every Single Post, Your Character Must Use a Skill (and/or a Stunt).
This is pulp action, and we’ve got to keep things moving. Do note, though, that a lot of these skills are remarkably broad. You could just drone on (a fine pulp tradition) and try to Declare something with a sufficiently high Academics, Art, Mystery &c, you could use some social skills (or something else entirely) to try to find out the Aspects of other characters, or you could spend your time with any number of skills trying to add Aspects to scenes. Personal favorite? “On Fire”. Just look at the skill descriptions for suggested uses and go from there. Be ridiculous, that’s...that’s kind of the point.
3. Assume Success and Describe
Once you see the results of a roll and have a reasonable belief that you were successful, describe the successful action in the same post. Likewise with failure, of course. Go with whatever is more interesting if the results are unclear (see Rule 5)! If it happens that you are flat-out wrong, see Rule 4.
4. The more characters that react to a thing before Spider Frost chimes in, the more likely it’s “canon”.
i.e. The More Interesting It Is, the less likely that Spider Frost will go back and change it. Spirit of the Century is not so concerned with fitting the roll as rolling with the results. Remember that I’ll only be updating on those (writing) days when I’ve already written 4000 words for my Career. Sometimes that might not happen due to miscellaneous drama...and sometimes the Internet in my jungle paradise will implode. So be prepared to react and just improvise wildly until I get back the next day to sort it all out. I won’t get mad, and there’ll be rewards! See Rule 5.
5. The “House Rule”: players compel other player’s Aspects
You are all now the equivalent of the cast of a sitcom, where actively screwing each other over is both encouraged and rewarded with Fate Points. Do you spot some way to force a character to act according to his aspects? Compel it! It works the same way as when the Spider Frost compels: If the player accepts, he gets a fate point in exchange for taking the action. The upside is that the compelling will also get a fate point if the compellee accepts and it meets the Spider Frost’s low standard that it was a legitimate compel. As per Rule 3, if you have a murky result on your hands, you can describe Failure, thus encouraging another player to find one of your aspects to compel to make it even more certain (and get the sweet, sweet Fate Points). Rule 5 is essentially simulating the “second act failure” endemic to pulps. This is the almost the only way you’re going to get Fate Points, so work together. You want the shit to hit the fan early so that you have plenty of shit to throw at your mortal foe in the exciting finale.
Style: Third Person, Past Tense; It’s a BOOK, people.
On that Note: Arbitrary Word Count - Each “book” will have a secret word count limit as set by me. Once it hits that limit, the story gets wrapped up as quickly as Deus Ex Machina can do so, and the next book starts. Just to keep things exciting and to encourage everybody to roll along the plot.
Bonus: Make Cover Art!
Roll at Invisible Castle!
#
Example of Play (short)
Post 1 - feeddannow
Beasle Wattsworth sneaked past the cultists while they were occupied with the rest and grabbed the silver idol from the stone altar. Bouncing it in his hands, he giggled, then turned to leave.
4d6=13 3, 1, 5, 4 = +0 + Stealth +2 = +2
(Note: Any die showing a 1 or 2 is treated as -, and any die showing a 5 or 6 is treated as +.)
Assume Success!
(Note: Any die showing a 1 or 2 is treated as -, and any die showing a 5 or 6 is treated as +.)
Assume Success!
Post 2 - Mendokusai
“I think it’d be funny if Beasle got caught right now,” said Mia. “After all, he does have that catchphrase.”
Milo brandished his scalpel at the herd of cultists. “I’ll save you, Marianette Dupont III! Super Scalpel SLASH!” he shouted, slicing and dicing his way toward the captured maiden.
4d6=15 6, 2, 3, 4 = +0, + Weapons +2
Spend 1 Fate Point to Invoke Aspect “Super Scalpel Slash!” for +2 = +4
Solid result, describe as such!
(Note: Let the storyteller figure out the exact stress taken, esp. for minions)
Compel Beasle: “I was just borrowing it!”
Spend 1 Fate Point to Invoke Aspect “Super Scalpel Slash!” for +2 = +4
Solid result, describe as such!
(Note: Let the storyteller figure out the exact stress taken, esp. for minions)
Compel Beasle: “I was just borrowing it!”
Post 3 - feeddannow
Beasle’s giggle choked off as he heard the head cultist shout and saw a mob rush his way. “I was just borrowing it!” he shouted. Seeing that this was not going to be sufficient, the thief stabbed a finger at the crowd and shouted: “Look! Behind you! It’s-AH!” As most of the cultists turned to stare, the mousy man scampered away, clutching the artifact.
Accept Compel
4d6=9 4, 2, 2, 1 = -3 + Deceit +5 = +2
Spend Fate Point to invoke “Never Look Back!” to reroll.
4d6=15 4, 3, 2, 6 = +0 + Deceit +5 = +5
Assume Success!
4d6=9 4, 2, 2, 1 = -3 + Deceit +5 = +2
Spend Fate Point to invoke “Never Look Back!” to reroll.
4d6=15 4, 3, 2, 6 = +0 + Deceit +5 = +5
Assume Success!
...and so forth. Dan could also attempt to compel one of Milo’s aspects to get back at her (or to cover his retreat?), and they could riff on that for as long as it took to resolve. Once the Storyteller posted, he would thread it all together with the rest of the action and give Dan one fate point for accepting the compel, and Mia one fate point for compelling.
Game on! You're all in-character after the pounds (I'll edit this post with a player list later)
###
DavidalBarron on
0
Posts
Spider Frost woke up in a hallway, the bustle of secretaries rushing by him. He sat up, leaning against the wall, and tried to remember where he was. He spotted the sign on the open door in front of him: EDITOR.
“Frost! Yes, you: Spider Frost! I see you lurking out there,” the Editor shouted. “Get in here, you’re late!”
Spider walked into the conference room, his head swimming from hangover and lack of sleep. He looked at the assembled creative team and groaned. “Was that today?”
“Shut up. You had all of yesterday off and we need to get this new series started.”
“What happened to ‘Captain Albatross’?”
“Sunk, cancelled, dead. Marketing got tired of your terrible original characters, so they went and bought the rights to some shiny new ones. They say we need to stick ‘em all in the same series.”
“Why?”
“Shut up. That’s why we got you this fine group of underpaid creatives. Deadline’s on the board. Get to work.”
Spider leafed through the character files. “What am I supposed to do with these?”
“Read the board, Marketing has guidelines. First, they’ll need a team name. Try to make it fit on the cover this time. And they sent down five eras you can set the books of the series in. Just read it.”
Spider read the board:
The Aughts (1900) Steampunk & Exploration
WWI (1910) WWI! Africa! Middle East! Asia! Trenchfoot
The Roaring 20s (1920) Lost Generation, Expatriates, Gilded Age.
The Depression (1930) Gangsters, Archeology
WWII (1940) NAZI PUNCHING et cetera
The 50s (1950) Atompunk & Tom Swifties, Spy Stuff
“So, choose one of those for the first book. Don’t bother to research. Wastes time.”
“I knew that already,” shrugged Frost.
“Then we’ll need a title and a sentence-question blurb. They’ve provided an example.”
Spider read the board:
Tom Swift and his friends build a machine that can do sums. But can they survive its sudden urge for subtraction? Find out in ‘Tom Swift & His Electronic Calculator’
“Why can’t I write that book?”
“Just get to work,” the Editor said, walking out of the room.
"Yes, boss," Spider sighed, looking around the table at the group. "Well, why don't each of you take a character and introduce it? Then you can throw out ideas for-" he waved his hand behind himself at the board "-all that stuff."
Character Sheet
Other:
Spider Frost
The haggard-most looking gentleman of the assembled talent perked up at the sudden attention, he wore a poorly fitting off-the-rack suit that served to make him look more frumpled than he probably had any right to look. He introduced himself as "Dante Rays, a pleasure to meet you Mr. Frost... I'm sure I have just the ticket."
With a little effort he stood up, producing a well-worn notebook from his coat's interior pocket. He gingerly flipped through its pages and read aloud "Beasel Wattsworth, you're going to love this character... a real clever guy! I think the readers are getting tired of these muscleheaded louts on every cover... they want someone who isn't afraid sometimes to run away... better part of valour and all that... and someone who's at the same time hungry, driven..."
He passed the notebook to Frost, "It's all right there - this is the guy that's gonna get us all filthy rich - he's conniving... but charming... harmless.... but daring... And he gets hit a lot! I think he just needs a good coterie of bizarre friends and allies to make him pop, what do you think?"
Dante looked around at the assembled group, his eyes betraying his eagerness to please this crowd of younger, perhaps more promising writers.
“Hello, my name is Olivia Martini. Must say I’m excited to be working with you all.” She let her eyes dart around the room to the other writers before settling back on Mr. Frost. “If bizarre is what your looking for my new friends, Mila -or Milo- Mengele will be just the girl for you! A gender-bending surgeon tied to the black market and occult, whose very presence unnerves the most steadfast of hero’s!”
She pulled a small stack of papers from her satchel and casually tossed it onto the table.
“She’ll be the girl to get them into … sticky situations and persevere where weaker stomachs falter. Her morbid curiosity and awkward countenance will surely be an intriguing and unexpected foil for the other characters!”
"Hello, I'm Jack Irons. "
Out from under his chair he pulled out a heavy tome wrapped in leather and slapped it onto the cherry wood table.
"This is Ace Steel. An anti-hero kind of hero."
Jack paused wondering if that sounded right. Non the less he pressed on with exaggerated hand movements that nearly sent his coffee across the diminutive room.
"People want absurd action. They want Lovecraft-ian mythos. Think of the reactions we'll get when we turn a villain into a hero! One who has minions and black magic and monsters and a robotic arm and and and. "
With that, Jack's mind fizzled. Calmed down he fixed his tie and reasserted him self.
"With the rest of these lovable characters, we're sitting on a gold mine."
"Oh, s,s,so sorry for being late, Mr. Frost. Completely forgot about this. Won't happen again." Noticing the small group around him, a deep red rises on his face. "Um, yes. H,h,hello, my name is Oliver, Oliver Albright. Oh, and my character is the spunky sidekick inventor, every story needs one of those." He grabs one of the last papers still floating in the air and puts it on the table.
“Oh! Right…” She pushes her slender wireframe glasses back up her nose and stands. “Jessica Simms! Nice to meet you all.”
She smiles brightly at the group then flips through her notes, murmuring to herself under her breath, before sliding a few pages across the table.
“I’d like to add Velma Valentine to the mix. She’s a sassy sexpot adventurer who’s been all around the world and goes wherever the money and excitement take her. She’s cool, confident and one heck of a pilot…and she’s not afraid to say so!"
Character Sheet
Other:
Spider Frost
"Riiiight...."
She turned to the rest of the writers, pointedly ignoring Frost and his phone as she gathered her papers and tucked them back into her satchel.
"Alright I say we get this started - I'm partial to kicking off the adventure with some good old steampunk... exploring and finding trouble is perfect for this troupe and is always an exciting read." Leaning back in the old office chair, she flinched as the hinges creaked out a loud warning. Cautiously moving to rest her elbows on the table instead, she continued guardedly, as if waiting for the rickety thing to collapse out from under her.
"... Mila will fit into just about every era, so I'm comfortable starting out in any time period if someone has a better suggestion. And as for team names.... I'm gonna leave that up to someone else."
"I like the Steampunk feel. Very do-able with the Smart kid and Ace does have a bionic arm. The arm could easily be clunky machinery. But! I must insist Sky Pirates. I think steampunk, i think sky pirates. Plus, we have a sexy pilot. "
Jack only paused long enough for someone else to inhale as if to start talking.
"What about names? Like... Midnight Society, League of the Obsidian Future, or Council of the Steel Hands? "
“Yup, steampunk’s a great theme,” she added, pushing the wayward specs back up again. “Lots of room for innovation. And what reader doesn’t love sky pirates?”
Suddenly her eyes went a little dreamy and she added. “ ‘Course, I do love a good Gangster Caper once in a while…” She jerked back to the present and grinned. “But Steampunk’ll do just fine. And...names, hmm…how about ‘Order of Dynamic Deviancy’? Or ooh maybe ‘Legion of the Eccentric and Wondrously Daring’?”
" Hooded Association of Tomorrow... Band of Amalgamated Defenders... League of Amalgamated Mystic Brotherhood of Science.... Iron Dragon Society... "
“Hmm,” he said, swiveling back and forth as he read over the team name list. “’The Successors’? Too short. ‘Legion of the Eccentric and Daring’? Too long, although I like ‘Legion’. I think it comes down to a choice between ‘Mystery Action Network’ and ‘Legion of the Obsidian Future’.” He leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “After that, it’ll be time to come up with a title and a blurb so we can send it to the cover artist. Thoughts?”
Character Sheet
Other:
Spider Frost
"Or titles like 'The Reapers Cocktail', 'Death's Odyssey'...." She trailed off, twisting loose hairs around her fingers as she stared into space.
"I like Legion of the Obsidian Future ,but Legion of Mystery has a nice ring to it too...So does Iron Deviants.. or even Iron Devils. For a Title I am totally loving Death's Odyssey."
"I like the flow of 'Legion of the Obsidian Future' or 'Legion of Mystery' as the group title. The 'future' bit seems to fit the best with the Steampunk ideal, I supppose. And obsidian has a mysterious ring to it..." She stoped flipping her pen and cheerfully waved it it in Olivia's direction. "And definitely love 'Death's Odyssey' for the title! Short, catchy, and tantalizing."
"So we go with 'The Legion of Mystery', staring in their first novel 'Death's Odyssey'... Unless there are objections?" She let eyes skip over Frost to rest on the rumpled writer Rays, waiting for any arguments or new ideas to ponder before committing the idea to paper.
“Spider, you ready yet?” The petite secretary in the doorway asked in a breathy voice. The fluorescent light shone in her dewy eyes, and Spider had a moment of panic, followed by a moment to think it over.
“Ready...for what? Did we talk on the phone?”
“Editor wants the blurb on his desk in ten. What are you staring at?”
“Nothing, nothing,” Spider said, with a sigh of relief. “What? Blurb? Right, yeah. 10 minutes. You know what? Tell him it’ll be on his desk in eight,” he said, spreading his arms with generosity and ignoring the glares of his collaborators.
“I’m sure you mean it,” she said over her shoulder as she walked away. Spider watched her walk, mesmerized, until realization creeped into his mind-
”Hey! Wait! What’s her name? Damn!” he cursed, sitting back down. He sulked for a few seconds, spinning the chair, side to side. “Right, we’ve got six minutes to come up with a blurb. I’ve figured out how to involve all the antagonists, so don’t worry about that. Let’s go!”
Character Sheet
Other:
Spider Frost
"Mr.Frost thats my little sister, Betty. She got me this job. "
Jack's knuckles cracked as he sized up Frost and the anger faded into a gentle chuckle.
"Anyways, I like Rays blurb. A story of gathering a heroic force."
Brought back to the scene with Jack's approval of Ray's blurb, he added his remarks as well. "Yes, totally agree with you, Jack. Ray, you really have a knack for these type of things, must be all the years of experience."
"I say we start the thing in media res... have Miranda be leaving the scene after having poisoned Beasel with the ... oh I donno... the Hidden Tincture of Mao Ling, dreaded Ghost Emporer of Ancient China... he's got only a week before he turns into a thing of living jade... and the only cure resides in the aforementioned flying castle... which Beasel believes to be mere myth - but .... help me out here people? Who's gonna be Beasel's wingman to find the rest of the crew? Oh... and maybe we start the action in Hong Kong... Yeah that's good... cover artists love not having to draw eyes properly..."
She let her words hang in the air just long enough to take a breath, launching into the plotting without missing much of a beat.
"Well Mila is out where wingmen are concerned, she'd be far more likely to have either created or supplied the elixir anyhow. I bet she'd be brought in as the expert in toxins, a doctor for when things start to go south... Velma is the type to take a job flying a treasure seeker into the jungle, I say she gets stuck being the wingman.."
"Velma would be pretty useful once the mission started. Then again... it sounds like Beasel isn't sure what's legend what's truth. Wouldn't be sure where to start. What if he turned to a specialist first? Someone with a strong knowledge of the Occult? Someone like...Ace, for example?"
She sat back again, pen twirling furiously.
"And what if whoever gets tainted by this Hidden Tincture won't just turn to living jade, but will come under the Ghost Emperor's control? An army of jade warriors would be just the kind of suspense to grab readers. How about:
'The Legion of Mystery' in 'Death's Odyssey'. Beasel forms an elite team of adventurers in an epic race against time. Can they reach the legendary floating fortress of Emporer Hu before his nefarious poison turns our hero, and the rest of Humanity, into his own living-dead jade puppets? Technology and Terror at Ten Thousand Feet!"
"Er...be back soon, then we’ll get started.” Spider scooped up the papers and fled into the hallway, closing the door behind him. He rushed down, elbowing past the clutter. As he neared the Editor’s marketing haunt, he saw Betty step out of the door, carrying a transcription.
She looked up and saw him. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Listen, sorry about what I said before. I didn’t know who you were on the phone.”
“Hmph. Is that all, Mr. Frost?”
“I want to make it up to you. You want to get a drink after the meeting?”
“You smell like you’ve been drinking already. And the last time-”
“Listen, you can trust me. In any case, your brother will kill me if you can’t. It’s just a drink.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she said. Spider was about to try another tack, but she stopped him with a smile. “Fine. One drink,” she said, passing him by on her way down the hall. She stopped before she turned a corner. “You know my number.”
“Yeah,” Spider said. Then he walked through the door to find the Editor.
Character Sheet
Other:
Spider Frost
"Crazy kids."
Re-focused, Jack turned his gaze to the sludge spewing ancient coffee machine that sat alone in the corner. Grimaced at the thought of choking down another cup he instead doodled a few ideas down. Anything to keep him away from that blasted machine.
"So... Besides threats of castration and the reasons for such threats. I think we are all getting along. "
Jack smiled a blindingly white toothy grin. In the dingy light his teeth seemed to glow with an eerie aura.
"Ace being a "Chosen One" kung-fu cultist with minions would probably be in Hong-Kong to retrieve whatever Beasle was trying to steal. Unintentionally, teaming up as a ninja fight breaks out. Beasle takes the backdoor out ...with said item. Only to be poisoned by Miranda, who is working with the rest of the villainous group of bastards. Murphey is working with Ace? Since Ace does have a bionic arm that will end to be repaired on occasion. Velma is anyone's ticket there...having a pilot in the group is helpful. And Milo is investigating the odd "jade" poisonings. But for all our villains tobe involved... besides wanting a cure for themselves, maybe looking for a way to control the Jade Army? "
"I like the chaotic meeting of Beasel and Ace, gets things started with a bang. I'd say Velma has been in Hong Kong for a week or so, after the latest business partner went and got himself dead. And this time it wasn't even her fault! She'd have been getting kinda antsy and ready to latch onto a new deal. I could see her having just met or been approached by Murphy recently, so she'd know just who to go to if someone came looking for a pilot and an airship."
IN
Death's Odyssey
by
Spider Frost
Chapter One
"Jaded"
The Chinese countryside burned as the atomic zeppelin Fate’s Diabolus docked at the undamaged airship spire, its fighter planes strafing the fleeing troops of the warlord. The Dreaded Sky-Pirate Roberts rappeled down first, landing on the ground with a heavy thunk to be greeted by a hail of gunfire from within the fortress. He took a swig from his flask, then flourished his thin cavalry sabre forward. The pirates charged the gates, several falling along the way.
“Implore...yourmen to hurry, Sky-Pirate,” a quiet voice declared from behind him, smashing the words together like the toys of a bored child. “Wedon’t have so much time. Word...hasgot out.”
Roberts turned around, ignoring the gunfire, and saluted with his sword. “Reichsinspekteurr Karl, they are setting the charges. I inspected the schematics of the fortress. It will be sufficient.”
The Reichsinspekteurr: thin, tall, a drawn face centered on eyes that focused a burning hatred like a magnifying glass would the sun. “Good,” the man said. There was an explosion, fragments of rock and glass scattered around the figures, then a cheer as the pirates rushed through the open gate. “Good. Xander, deal with this.”
A short stump of a man appeared out of the perpetual shadows behind the German. “With pleasure, Reichsinspekteur,” he nodded, then he sauntered forward with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. When he reached the shattered gate to the fortress he stooped down and picked up a jagged chunk of glass, brandished it with a grin, then, obviously spotting an enemy in the darkness within, charged with a banshee yell.
“Shall we proceed, Reichsinspekteurr?” Roberts said, as the screams from within the fortress increased in number.
“Yes,” the thin man said, as the screams were suddenly silenced. “We shall.”
Mina Mengele woke up to the cooing of a pigeon. Why did that sound so familiar? She peeked out from under the covers, checking to see if anybody else was in the room, then got out of bed and walked over to the carrier pigeon on the windowsill of her hotel room. Balmy Hong Kong stretched out to the sea, the sun high in the sky, but before she could enjoy the view she spotted the message on the pigeon’s leg. Ah, Katydid Xiuxiu, her former teacher.
She grabbed the bird, and the rolled-up paper fell on th floor. As the pigeon fluttered away, she picked up the message and read it:
Mina,
Talk of jade statues and floating fortresses. Treated strange poisonings of a warlord’s enemies. Now they say the Germans are after this poison, whatever it is. Come visit me, darling, I’ll need your help.
Katydid
Mina sat down, burning the message. She was here in Hong Kong at the request of Tong Xua Xie to investigate the mysterious fatal poisoning of international thieves Bernoulli and Rousseau. In both cases, the men had solidified into motionless statues. Mina stood back, putting on her men’s clothes and adjusting her tie around her throat. Could this be related?
Of course it was, Milo Mengele said, closing the door of his room at the Thirteen Dragons Hotel and walking down to the lobby. In the window, the sky began to darken.
They found the warlord hiding in a side room next to a shattered escape plane. As Roberts entered the room, the warlord drew his sword and charged, but before Roberts could react, the sword clattered to the floor and the man slumped to his knees.
“Now, Warlord Pyong Ning,” the thin man said as he stepped into the room. “We will discuss the location of the Emperor’s palace.”
“I do not know!”
“You have used the jade poison. You must know, or you must know who knows,” the Reichsinspekteur said, fixing his gaze on the groveling man.
The warlord tried, but could not look away. He broke. “I don’t, I don’t,” he wailed, rolling on the ground.
The thin man looked beyond the warlord. “Xavier, what’s that I see behind the airplane?”
The short man stepped around the plane. There was a shriek, and Roberts saw Xavier reappear holding a struggling young woman by the arm. “It’s a girl, Reichsinspekteur,” the man said, running a hand through the woman’s long straight hair. “Pretty.”
“Interesting. Blue eyes, black...hair,” the thin man sniffed. “Your daughter, warlord?” The warlord groaned. “If you do not tell me where thepalace is, it dies.”
“My supplier said...the monks...a temple in the Valley of Mist. But I don’t know-”
“Good,” said the thin man, raising a silencing finger. “Was...thetruth so hard? Roberts, we’re leaving. Xavier, bring that thing. I’ve needed a mongrel for my experiments.”
“But you said-”
“She will not...die,” the thin man said, turning to leave.
The warlord grabbed his daughter’s hand as she was dragged by. “Ling!” The thin man turned slowly, fixing his gaze on the warlord. Roberts saw his eyes flare, and the warlord screeched and fell backward, convulsing, then retching.
“Roberts,” the thin man said, as he walked outside. “Wipe this fortress off the map.”
“Is that necessary, sir?”
“It was...nota question, Sky-Pirate,” the thin man said, fixing a glare on him.
“You don’t scare me, Reichsinspekteur,” Roberts said, glaring back.
“Nonetheless. The Thule Society is sponsoring this...expedition. It has thusfar been very expensive. We expect your...fullenthusiasm.”
Roberts matched the thin man’s glare for a full minute, then shrugged. “As you say, Reichsinspekteur.”
“Good,” the thin man said, gesturing to the grinning Xavier. The Dreaded Sky-Pirate Roberts’ lip curled as he watched the girl dragged past him and into the zeppelin, then he flipped on his wrist-radio to give the orders.
Velma Valentine fumed as she sat picking at her dinner in the open-air restaurant of the Thirteen Dragons Hotel reading the headline of the Hong Kong Times: THAD BACHANAL KILLED, Tong Xua Xie Suspected. She threw the paper to one side and attacked her salad. Suspected was too diplomatic. Her erstwhile employer had neglected to mention the massive gambling debt he owed the the tong before he had hired her for his expedition to Indochina. She had not even received her promised reimbursement for flying her plane to Hong Kong before he had got himself killed, and in a tong gambling den of all places. What an idiot!
A shadow fell across the table and she looked up. A stunning woman in a bright red dress had appeared, the woman’s broad-brimmed stylish hat blocking out the sun. “Aren’t you gorgeous?” the woman said, sitting down. “Mind if I sit?” A parrot fluttered down from the rafters to rest on the woman’s shoulder.
“Form up on me, Blot-Outs,” said Paul Fonck over the radio, bringing his airplane around. “They’re well-dispersed.” His radio crackled with acknowledgements as his five fellow pirates checked in. “Await further orders.” He scanned the countryside around the warlord’s fortress for reinforcements, keeping the zeppelin in view.
His radio crackled. “Fonck. Clear the squadron away from the fortress,” Roberts said.
“Yes, boss. Why?”
“Just do it,” the Sky-pirate sighed, then clicked off.
“Blot-Outs, take a holding pattern a safe distance away from the fortress,” Paul said, settling into a gentle curve away from the fortress. Suddenly a bright light erupted behind him, and he resisted the urge to pull on the stick. As startled curses erupted from his radio, he looked back and saw a yard-thick beam of white-hot energy blasted from the zeppelin into the fortress, slicing through the thick rock like scissors through paper, questing down, down, down-
“Watch out!” Paul shouted over the radio, as he saw the explosion begin and looked away. The magazine went up in a cacophony of sound, a shock wave that rolled out and washed over the planes even at their safe distance. He looked back and saw only cooling rock where the fortress had been. Paul gaped, then looked down as his radio crackled.
“Bring it in,” Roberts said. “We’re done here.”
“Kid, I’m your employah!” The annoying Texas drawl echoed in Murphey O’Malley’s head as he rushed through the streets toward the Thirteen Dragons Hotel. He read the message in his hand again:
Ms. Valentine,
I am sorry to hear about your employer’s sad demise. I would be happy to engage your services as a fighter escort. This would be an open-ended contract at, let’s say, double whatever that Bachanal was offering for half the work. Danger may be involved, but take a gamble, ma’am.
Signed
‘Billiards’ Badwick, Balloontrepreneur
Murphey rolled his eyes. ‘Balloontrepreneur’, indeed. Just because he had built her plane didn’t mean he should have to deliver a message to Velma Valentine. He was busy! His engineers needed supervision as they set up shop on board the Opportunity, ‘Billiards’ Badwick’s zeppelin. But no, send the kid to do the chores. Oh, well, it would be nice to see Ms. Valentine again, and if the zeppelin had a fighter escort it would need fewer repairs.
As he approached the hotel, he saw Velma sitting at the table talking with a tall woman. He halted, looking both ways before he crossed the street, then he did a double-take as he saw a parrot on the tall woman’s shoulder! He shouted and started to cross the street, but then dodged out of the way of the car that screamed up to the hotel. He tripped, fell, and when he rolled back to his feet, the woman and the parrot were nowhere to be seen and a large group of men were piling out of the car.
As Murphey walked toward Velma, one of the men ran up the stairs past a man in a tie descending. Another man started shouting the rest into defensive positions. Murphey felt a sudden chill and looked up. Whisps of darkness were starting to envelope the hotel exterior.
Beasle Wattsworth ran up the stairs, clutching the freshly-stolen jade idol close to his beating heart. He hoped that fool Ace Steel would swallow his line about guarding against pursuit long enough so that he could slip away through the back with his cash. He opened the door to his room and stepped in This was just the clue he needed to go after that-
“Good to see you again, Beasle.”
Beasle knew that voice. “Miranda.” He felt a sting, and put his hand to his neck. “You bitch.”
“That’s no way to talk, Beasle,” said Miranda, stepping out of the shadows and tossing aside the dart pistol. “You know I love you.”
Beasle tried to move, but felt ice run through his veins, paralyzing him. “What did you do?”
“Same thing I did to Bernoulli and Russeau, dear Beasle. We’re already racing that German, we can’t have any more competition. But, don’t worry, dear. This time Janet thinks we got the mixture right.”
“What...mixture...?”
“The other thieves went too fast, Beasle,” Miranda said, stepping forward and putting her hands on his cheeks. “Of course,” she said with a cruel laugh. “So did you, remember?”
“Errrk,” Beasle said, trying to convey utter hate through frozen tongue. Miranda kissed him, then took the jade idol out of his hands, pushing him aside. He tumbled over.
“Toodles, Beasle,” she said, walking toward the door.
Beasle made an effort and rose on his hands, gasping out. “Where...you going?”
“Why would I tell you?”
“For...old time’s...sake?”
“Beasle, you could always make me laugh,” she said, opening the door. Beasle slumped down. Miranda stopped in the doorway. “I’m going to talk to Jing Zu. Don’t be jealous, now, Beasle,” she said with another laugh. Then her voice hardened. “Be dead.”
She left and Beasle rolled over, gasping, trying to ratchet himself to a sitting position as the poison coursed through his veins.
Ace Steel was beginning to suspect a trick and the gathering darkness was making him nervous. He started to order his minions to charge up the stairs when the tall woman came down the stairway alone holding the jade idol. A parrot flew down and landed on her shoulder, and Ace looked over when he heard a teenager gasp and point. The woman’s eyes widened when she saw the boy, but Ace had decided that enough was enough. With a gesture, he sent his men charging up the stairs to retrieve the statue.
With a squawk the parrot blurred, and Ace Steel found himself enshrouded in darkness. He heard his men scream and felt invisible blades slashing at him from every direction, cutting at his robes. He focused, then expanded a zone of occult protection around himself, driving the biting darkness away. As suddenly as it had fallen, the darkness had lifted. He turned away from his groaning minions to look for the woman.
He saw her walking down the street, the locus of the waves of darkness that shrank to outline her form in black, then she slowly faded from the legs up. She looked back, just a face, just a smile. And then even that was gone...
for Beasle Wattsworth
Compelling Pawn of the Gods. You’re just screwed.
for Velma Valentine
Compelling Globetrotter Extraordinaire. You’re just here.
for Murphey O’Malley
I’m giving you a free fate point for me declaring your character the employee of “Billiards” Badwick, or you can say I compelled Drink Tank to accomplish the same thing in the backstory. This is your penalty for getting to play a 15-year old drunk.
for Mina/Milo Mengele
“I know this voodoo priestess who can...” Sure, she's a Chinese ghost doctor, but close enough.
for Ace Steel
Monster Hunter. Janet the Parrot has made you look the fool. And she has your statue!
Remember Rule 2 and...SCENE!
Character Sheet
Other:
Spider Frost
"Dammit, Janet! You get back here, we aren't finished yet. I forgot my foot in your ass!" Murphy yelled as he chased off down the street, in pursuit of where he last saw the whimsical, little monstrosity.
With a swift bone crunching kick to his groaning minions he ordered them to gather the witnesses. As he tore off his tattered robes and marched up stairs.
“I’d wash that twice – the local Staphylococcus strain can kill you…”
He didn’t seem to hear, and Milo got ready to repeat herself when a woman appeared on the steps out of nowhere.
“Oh I’m sure he won’t have to worry about that…” The woman said with a smile, as she gracefully patted Milo's arm before gliding up the stairs in a flourish of long red silks.
With a shrug Milo continued down the steps. She was here to find the brilliantly elusive concoction that could solidify a man - not to worry about someone's poor eating habits - plus if Madame Xiuxiu felt the need to contact her before sun had fully set, it must be big!
Upon reaching the restaurant below, Milo felt her eyes widen ever so slightly. For a tiny hotel far from the normal tourist attractions, the place was packed with foreigners. Paused on the bottom step, she cocked her head to the side and surveyed the action – people were rushing about, and a large man ripped of his robe and made his way up the stairs.
On the main floor of the hotel a sea of men in matching robes began interrogating patrons. The long black material they wore looked oddly out of place underneath the paper lanterns, but this was Hong Kong, and if ever strange events were to occur it would be here. As she tried to catch a hint of what they were talking about amidst the cacophony, she felt herself hunch and lean forward. She stood there, lurking in the stairwell for an awkward moment before realizing a pair of robed inquisitors were looking at her guardedly.
"Is there a problem gentlemen?" Still lurking, she merely tilted her head to the side to acknowledge them.
"We need you to tell us everything you know about the man that passed you on the stairs!" A thick chested man spoke, flipping greasy locks from his face with forced confidence.
"Caucasian male, well muscled, history of right transhumoral amputation, most likely traumatic. Interesting prosthesis of unknown materials. Swiss make would be my first guess. I would assume a build of around 6 feet, but to be honest i wasn't paying much attention." She rattled off a basic description, wondering why they needed information about a man that was obviously their leader.
"Not the boss, the man before that!"
"Oh, lets see..." Milo pondered for a moment, trying to remember anything poignant. With a smile she replied, "He is fond of vegetables."
"What else?!"
"Um... I believe he has a lovely cook in a dress about to prepare his dinner?"
The minions exchanged glances then hustled away to report to their superior. Milo took the moment to adjust her tie and skulked through the room. She was nearly to the door when she noticed a residue on her sleeve... She froze, noting a strange odor and slight discoloration to her jacket. Damn it, she couldn't go to see Madame Xiuxiu looking like some slob, a gentleman had to be presentable! With a huff she stomped back toward the staircase to make her way back to her room for a change.
4d6=19 = 0,0,+1+1,=2 plus 1 for 'average'= 3 total. So ... she'd notice the stain from the poison, but it wouldn't suspect what it is quite yet...
Looking back at the mess, he quickly took a swig out of his flask, and he made his way towards the hotel again. It was time for business. And speaking of business, there in front of him was a possible further client, a man with a metal hand poking out of his shirt. But he wanted to have some fun first. This vehicle was completely shabby, and it looked like it needed a tune-up.
He snuck his way towards the van, making sure the folks in the funky robes didn't suspect a thing. This turned out to be quite unsuccessful, due to the metal covered boots he always sported.
"Hey, this doesn't regard you, kid." One of the men said. He was the smallest of the two, standing next to van and seemed like the driver of the van.
"Oh, I am not interested in that debacle, I was just wanting to let you know that your inner hydrostatic accelerator seems to be on the fritz. If you where to try and restart this shitbox, you would have a hard time finding your face again." Oliver said in his customer-friendly voice. "I could fix it for you in a jiffy if you would like, if not... well who knows what'll happen."
"Hey now, we don't anything to blow us up, 'cus the boss'll kill us if that happens. See what you can do to help." said the taller of the two.
Grabbing a wrench out of his overalls, Oliver went to work making sure that the vehicle couldn't get more than fifty feet ahead before the engine would blow.
Velma had turned her head at the shout from across the street to see Murphey dodging out of the way of a car. Kid always seemed to be getting himself into some kind of trouble.
By the time she looked back across her table she had just enough time to realize that the mysterious woman, and her bird, had disappeared before all hell broke loose. It was over quickly, though she had no idea what IT was. 'Well, there's that excitement I'd been hoping for,' she thought to herself wryly.
She took stock of the situation. The larger man with the metal arm, obviously the leader, had disappeared up the stairs and his lackeys, looking a little worse for wear, were collecting up everyone in the near vicinity. Two were approaching her, clearly intent on dragging her forcibly if necessary. She flashed them her most disarming smile and sauntered toward them, hands raised.
"No need to manhandle, boys, I'm not gonna run off." They seemed a bit taken aback at her flippancy and stopped in front of her as she continued. "That was quite something. Looks like you and your boss have got your hands full." She paused, then tipped her head in the direction of the stairs with another charming smile. "That is your boss, right?"
The lackeys were visibly relaxing in her presence; one even smiled back. The other responded.
"Yes ma'am...miss...er...," he stumbled, but rushed on. "That is none other than Ace Steel, of the Brotherhood of the Black Star."
'Ace Steel, hmm? Sounds like an interesting character.' She tilted her head in curiosity, silently urging him to continue....
4d6=17 --> Great Rapport 4 + (-1,+1,+1,0) = 6
Compel Mina's 'Weirdo' Aspect
Honestly not sure how much information Velma can charm out of someone with Rapport. Figured a 6 is pretty high, and they're just lackeys, but I'll back it off to just his name, if I need to.
As she moved back through the bar, Milo noticed a few of the robed figures approaching. This just wouldn't due, she was in a hurry after all. She had to figure out how to avoid them... Feeling sly, she darted under the table cloth of an unsuspecting couple and popped out on the other side. The woman at the table shrieked, and Milo explained the situation. "Don't worry. I'm a doctor!"
The woman kept shrieking, and her table-mate got all red in the face, but before they could make any move, she dove under the next table. She repeated her stealthy escape until she popped up back at the other end of the room, her inquisitors wearing matching, gaping expressions as they watched her maneuver to the stairwell.
"Wait, wait Wait!" Jack announced. " I totally can see Velma saying something like: Some call it arrogance, I call it self-awareness. She should abuse her power over these guys."
The Minions stumbled on each others' words. Trying to win Velma's affection.
"He is the chosen One" "Chosen one of Ct'thraghogg" "Our dark master, our savior... the elder god itself chose him" "He lives on the edge...like this one time he went streakin-" "Powerful kungfu master taught by Jing Zu himself" "Monsters.." "Arcane Blood..."
Their chattering became senseless noise.
Upstairs Ace bursts into Beasel's open doorway. He mistaken the paralytic Beasel as a grovelling weasel.
"You have failed me, worm! Everything that happens now his on your head" His Gravel voice Boomed.
Ace hoisted the frozen man up into the air with his steel fist and shaked him around for a bit. Then tossing the poor soul down the stairs at his minions.
4d6=16 0+(+1+1-1-1)=0 Medicine/alertness either =FAILURE