Sending a command to the roto-drone to head closer to the (really weird) lightning, Michael also told his Hotspur to release the Chariot drone. After commanding it to search the areas nearby Michael finally launched his Steel Lynx.
“Lynx, guard 2nd Lt. Key,” he indicated the elf on his AR display, “and me from any hostiles. Protection of 2nd Lt. Key is given higher priority then protection of myself. "
She's on a bike after all. No safe, bulletproof glass between her and... giant... porcupine... spirit... things. Man, I really wish I had more Steel Lynxes. Or was a hundred kilometers away from here. Either one.
Sighing, Michael called the Captain to report in. “Strickland here, drones have been dispatched and are currently searching the area.”
A Knight Errant patrol car pulls up about fifty yards from the intersection, and Frankie carefully extracts himself and his gear from the back seat. Having done so he thumps hard on the roof of the car twice and shouts out "Thanks, buddy, I owe ya one."
Fully kitted out, Frankie looks every bit the Ares recruiting poster. Sleek full body armor mottled in shades of grey, green and blue; Ares shotgun slung over his black, and a wonderfully-maintained Ares sniper rifle being carried in a (currently) non-hostile manner. He's even got matching patches on his uniform and weapon; a stylised thunderbird.
Acting chill and professional now that he's in public (Ares PR and his wife have trained him well), he salutes Raven and starts heading over to clarify an issue, doing a quick headcount of Lone Star personnel and lallygagging civilians.
"Ma'am, I need authority to procure a Grade-E sentient magical asset or two, for recon and environmental protection; do I have that authorization to do so?"
Grade-E sentient magical asset = Force 5 spirit; air spirit most likely
Current loadout:
full body armor
Ares Thunderbird (sniper rifle) + 3 clips APDS (10)
Ares DX49 (shotgun) + 3 clips normal (10)
Large Smuggling compartment contains: 2 of above-mentioned clips; also a cold naan bread wrapped around leftover irish stew. Mmmmm.
As Raven watches over her crew arriving on scene, she looks beyond the crowd to where one of her rookies is gliding down the street on her bike. A flash of lightning lights up the area as if God was taking your picture, before he kills you. Her trained eyes pick out the silhouttes of certain black feline creatures stalking the rooves above the elf's head. Unfortunately, it's next to impossible to pick them out in the dark.
--
An itch begins to gnaw at your mind, Frankie. Maybe it's the pressure, or the emotions coming from the crowd, but you begin to feel uneasy.
A rock comes flying dangerously close to your head from in front.
The Comet screeches to a halt at the meeting point and Gino gets on his comm, "Here Captain. No luck with my contact. He was," he pauses with a chuckle, "busy.
"Anything you need me to do? I could cruise around in my Comet so there'd be an extra set of eyes but until we have an enemy my skills aren't that useful."
"I'm past the line, Captain. Doesn't seem to be much activity, though. Aside from that... tree that just popped up. Eco-terrorists, maybe?"
Key sighed, glancing around casually as she drove through the deserted, rainy streets. This could be a lot more fun if there were some people to race with here.
A red glow from the dashboard catches Key's attention as she speaks with the Captain. Looking down, hundreds of ebony spiders with blazing crimson multifaceted eyes begin to crawl out of the vents. Their quick arms clack against the plastic in a rapid crescendo.
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Der Waffle MousBlame this on the misfortune of your birth.New Yark, New Yark.Registered Userregular
edited March 2009
Raven's smartgun flickered to life as she quickly shouldered it, aiming for the roof. The weapon's thermal vision camera scanning the roof where she saw the shapes. "Heads up, we have company!"
She quickly rushed forward, pressing herself flat against the side of the building. "Do whatever you need, Thunderbird, but keep it on its leash till we need it. Crow, Gino, Strickland, get to my location!" She kept her weapon scanning roofward. "Key, report in, and get yourself back here, now!"
"What the...?!" Key shouted out in surprise as the spiders began pouring out of her beloved motorcycle. "What is this drek? Captain! Something weird is going on!" They'd better not have hurt my bike.
Turning around quickly, she attempts to brush the spiders off of her bike, making a break for the line of Lone Star security.
As Key's hand moves into the spiders, they vanish from sight. Something lands hard on the ground behind her as she peels off towards the crowd. Thump thump, thump thump, something is following Key and it's getting closer by the second.
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Ninja Snarl PMy helmet is my burden.Ninja Snarl: Gone, but not forgotten.Registered Userregular
edited March 2009
After acknowledging Raven's order, Crow shifted the van into reverse and quickly backed the vehicle towards the cordon. Running back himself would've likely been just as fast, but the dwarf was hardly eager to expose himself as a target. Besides, he thought, this van can take a lot more punishment than I can. I can't just slap on some new siding in the shop if someone takes potshots at me.
As a precautionary measure, Crow mentally nudged his Wired Reflex system to get it warmed up and humming. A tiny icon appeared on his cybernetic vision display, indicating the system was fully activated. Grabbing his Ares Alpha from his driver's-side holster, he set the rifle in his lap and sent a second mental signal. This message flipped the Alpha from "Safety" to "Full auto". The Captain's order had sounded urgent enough to convince the dwarf that the situation was about to really get cooking.
Crow stopped the van near the Captain, noting that she was clearly looking for something up high. He shifted the van into park, keyed off the motor, and opened the door. He hopped out and, mimicking the Captain's posture, pressed himself against the van's side. Using both the vehicle's body and the door as cover, he began scanning the rooftops himself. Thermals were picking up tantalizing flickers and slivers here and there, but whatever was up didn't seem ready to reveal a full profile yet.
Hope we don't have to engage right here. Can't risk offensive grenades around this crowd. A bad blast might bring down a building right on top of them.
A silken hand runs its way down Crow's throat as someone breaths softly into his ear. The scent of jasmine invades his nostrils. "Come my love, I've missed you so." The voice is feathery and ethereal, echoing in your mind, seeming to come from different directions moment by moment. Of course, no one else sees or hears anything.
Key turns around in her seat, letting her primitive AI drive the bike for a moment as the sleek grip of Yamaha's Sakura Fubuki drops into her hand. Without missing a beat, she releases a stream of bullets at whatever is following her, the bike still heading straight for safety.
Initiative (14d6.hits(5)=4) First burst (15d6.hits(5)=5) Second burst (14d6.hits(5)=4)
Wow, that was some pretty terrible rolls. Anyway, Smartlink on my gun and glasses gives me +2, and the Sakura Fubuki only takes a -1 recoil penalty on the second burst rather than the usual -3/-4. Both bursts are narrow, aimed at whatever's behind me. Still got 34 bullets in my gun.
The quill cat returns with a streaking vengeance. Its legs move in a near blur as it chases after Key's motorcycle, twin jet streams of water flying up behind it. As the bullets released from the Fubuki smash into the pursuer, jets of black blood fly up out of the creature as it slides in the wet streets. Drop by drop, the corpse begins to shrink and shrivel up until only a small black cat remains, unmoving, leeking red blood through several massive holes in its side. No doubt about it, it's a common felis catus.
--
Frankie's head begins to throb, an asperin would probably be helpful around now.
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Ninja Snarl PMy helmet is my burden.Ninja Snarl: Gone, but not forgotten.Registered Userregular
edited March 2009
Crow snorts, surprised and aggravated.
No clue about that voice, but this is definitely not normal.
Still keeping an eye on the rooftops, the dwarf turns to face the Mueller's general direction. "Hey Captain! You hearing this voice or is just me?"
Having been cleared by the Captain, Frankie set about trying to summon a spirit ally following his usual method; tense up, concentrate and focus.
He could feel the magical energies flowing as the spirit start to bend to his will, but something other was interfering. The headache and chills he'd been suffering since he arrived on the scene were apparently more of a hindrance than he'd expected, and just as he was reaching the peak of the ritual, the mystic energies cut off with a snap; the experience very much akin to brain freeze, leaving Frankie reeling & staggering to maintain his position.
"AARGH! Frag it!"
Seeking respite from the discomfort, he snaps open the visor of his helmet and takes a couple of deep breaths to recompose himself.
Michael panicked slightly at Raven's command but managed to calm himself with the familiar litany he'd made up during his first combat situation with his drones.
Metal. Safe metal. Jump. Shoot.
Jumping into his Steel Lynx, Michael felt safe. He had armor and a big gun. And he wasn't actually there. Best part of rigging. Moving his new, sleek body to the Captain's side, he started searching the rooftops with his electronic eyes. His minigun was armed and ready to fire as soon as he saw anything. Meanwhile, the meat body of Michael Strickland was curled in a protective ball in the driver's seat of the Hotspur, its mind not there at the moment.
I'm jumping into my Steel Lynx and waiting for an enemy to pop up.
With a few blocks between the group and the riot in progress, the environment has taken on a surreal quality. The usual hustle and bustle of the city is out of earshot, no screeching tires, sirens, yelling, buzzing engines, or countless conversations that make up the background noise of everyday life. As the rain lets up, the air hangs heavy and still, your own breathing and heart throbbing seems to boom in your ears.
No spiny felines or other mysterious metacritters have shown themselves since the one Key put down. From down the empty street, you can hear a blood curdling scream and hurried footsteps. With the advanced visual capabilities your team is capable of, it's easy to make out a human male running towards you, constantly checking over his shoulder. He's dressed in the latest trendy suit with shifting colors and patterns, a pair of thick black sunglasses over his eyes. Something dark is partially obscured behind him.
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Der Waffle MousBlame this on the misfortune of your birth.New Yark, New Yark.Registered Userregular
edited March 2009
Raven quickly brought her submachinegun about, aiming at the ominous black shape behind the man. "Key, Gino, cover him! Crow, Strickland keep the roof covered. Fitzgerald, where are those magical assets?" Her weapon clicked as she mentally switched it into full auto. "Weapons free! Weapons free!"
"Dammit," Gino says, his Colt already out of the arm slide and his feet pounding the pavement toward the new face. Even though he's sprinting, the slick pavement makes going hard and he stumbles as he goes.
As he runs he tries to identify the chased man and hopes that he'll make it before the thing catches up to him.
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Ninja Snarl PMy helmet is my burden.Ninja Snarl: Gone, but not forgotten.Registered Userregular
edited March 2009
"Strickland, you heard the Captain!" shouted Crow, "Move that thing into the street! We can't cover squat from here!"
Not waiting for Strickland to respond, Crow quickly moved around his van and out into the street, keeping his weapon trained on the nearest rooftop and glancing at the one across the street. Stinking magic. World's crazy enough already without people making giant alleycat monsters. Against conventional weapons, moving into the open street was a risk at the very least. However, these things looked like they wanted to get up close and nasty; Crow wanted as much open space between them and him as possible.
Even if these quill-things do have some long-range surprises, I'm betting they'll have to pop up to hit us anyway. I'd rather have at least a chance at some clear shots instead of getting some critter-magic square in the back. Ignoring the distraction down the road wasn't easy, but Crow knew he still had plenty of time to respond if that black mess decided to get personal. No telling how fast those quillcats could get down here, though. Doubt we want to find out, though.
Kneeling in the street, the dwarf remained focused on the rooftops. With the hammering rain, his thermal vision was now completely free of interference. He stepped up his image magnification and waited for the hostiles to make the first move.
It's not really a big deal since we aren't in combat yet, but I'm using a Take Aim action to zoom in on the rooftop edge so I don't have a negative modifier due to distance if something shows up there to get shot.
Frustration obvious in his voice, Fitzgerald quietly says through the team comms channel, "I'm workin' on it! Tryin' a different aspect."
The uneasy silence, while disturbing, is a little bit more comforting than noisy chaos. Concentrating again, Frankie focuses on the more familiar tones of the spirits of man; not as rich or sharp as the true nature spirits; more sporadic in nature. As he tenses up, Frankie projects a thought with his summoner's call, furrowing his brow.
Spirits, you listen! That silence is death! You gonna die with it? Help me, for frags sake! Help me help you!
A thoughtful moment passes, and Frankie feels the release of a successful call to the spirit world being placed, the being's presence making itself known to him.
OK then shaman, you got me. This better be good.
In more satisfied tones, Frankie jumps on the comms again as he moves to get a bit of cover, and says "Asset online, captain, waitin' fer further instructions."
Frankie gives up on air and tries to summon a Spirit of Man
9d6 (Magic+Summoning) vs 5d6 (Spirit Force) = 5 vs 1 = 4 net successes!
Summary: 4 services from a Force 5 Spirit of Man, no drain taken
Spirit of Man can...
vs a target Accident - can cause a target to mess up. 10d6 vs Rea+Int opposed roll, or can force a vehicle to make a crash test with -5 penalty. Confusion - 10d6 vs Willpower. Net hits deduct from target's dice pools Influence - 10d6 vs Willpower. Success means target follows suggestion or changes emotion. Fear - 10d6 vs Willpower. Success means target flees for 1 Combat Turn per net success. Target must succeed at Will+Cha vs (net success) test to return or face off with spirit again.
Group Buffs Concealment - can cover up to 5 people; people trying to perceive them get -5 dice. Guard - protect up to 5 people; prevents Accident and ca be used to prevent glitches.
Can also just lay the smackdown also. Gets 2 initiative passes in physical, ignores most physical damage.
As he grows closer, you begin to see that the asphalt behing him is shaping itself like a hectic ocean wave. Dozens of rough mounds of street form themselves into raging bulls. Long, sharp horns seeking to impale the target before them. Haphazardly stampeding, their force stretches from one side of the road to the other. But each individual lasts mere seconds before dropping back down into the ground and being replaced elsewhere.
Running up the length of an overturned truck, he leaps into the air and grabs a hold of a street sign. Moments later, the truck is knocked away by the multi-ton rushing steaks. If he loses his grip, he's going to get stamped flat or skewered.
--
The rooftops seem clear, for now. You swear you saw a senorita in a flowing crimson skirt and white puffy shirt in one of the upper windows, but she is gone in a blink. Over the sound of stampeding hooves, there seems to be a faint cheering in the air but its source is unplacable.
Key pulls to a stop next to the others, sliding off of her bike and pointing her gun at the oncoming bulls.
"It all seems to be smoke and mirrors, captain! I've got no damn idea what's going on!"
As the voice of the spirit fades and echoes in your mind, something catches your attention from the direction of the Captain. At first, you can't seem to place what's wrong with the picture but something in the back of your consciousness feels unsettled with what it sees. Then you notice it, her shadow isn't moving correctly, it seems to lag behind by fractions of a second. Where her silhoutted head should be, the mouth and eyes darken into a slight, mischievious smile on the asphalt.
I'll let you know now, Shaman. I only came because you seem to be moving closer to the fun going on tonight. Bore me and I'll have to create my own entertainment.
The smile widens as the eye sockets flash red momentarily. When Raven turns towards you, the shadow behaves perfectly normally. The voice is of the scale between male and female, with a slight cityspeak accent.
Gino's eyes go wide as he sees the pavement spring to life and he turns the other way and runs back toward the group, "Boss! I forgot my matador cape today, any suggestions on how to handle this one?"
Slowly, the herd begins to thin out as your group valiantly holds their group far away from danger. A final bull, a runt of the litter, makes its way past the man still clinging desperately for life. But like the others, it simply fades into the street. Unceremoniously, the sign gives way sending the man crashing to the ground. Picking himself up, he begins to hoot and holler and throws his fists into the air triumphantly. "Viva Spain, baby!" Now he's blowing kisses to no one in particular, very peculiar.
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Der Waffle MousBlame this on the misfortune of your birth.New Yark, New Yark.Registered Userregular
edited March 2009
"Fitzgerald, can you tell me just what the FUCK is going on here?"
Frankie looks at the Captain uncertainly, unsure if she is aware of the speaking shadow or not. He decides to act as if that bit didn't happen.
"Aaaaaah, we got some high-scale paranormal activity to say the least, ma'am, and I got no idea why or how, but I reckon we gotta get movin' and take a position. Whatever it is knows where we are, an' this spirit is givin' me backchat."
Readying his shotgun and checking its workings, Frankie queries, "Have we got any other info from recon yet?"
With reckless abandon, the man is now running towards you. Every once in a while, he stops to pump up the crowd, throwing kisses and high fiving the air. As he gets closer, you can see the bloodshot veins in his eyes and the occassional falter in his step. And the giggling is unmistakable.
About fifty feet away from you, he pulls a plastic bottle out of his jacket and drops a few white specks into his hand. Tilting his head way back, he slams them down his throat. With his free hand, he pulls something else out from his jacket and points it in your direction. "Alright pilgrims, let me show you how to shoot down some of these 'ere cans." The Ruger Super Warhawk that's now oriented towards you certainly looks real.
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Ninja Snarl PMy helmet is my burden.Ninja Snarl: Gone, but not forgotten.Registered Userregular
edited March 2009
Giving the street a quick glance, Crow notices the now-prominent hand-cannon pointing their way. Immediately, the dwarf shifts position to place the Lynx drone between himself and big gun, silently berating himself for not wearing a helmet. Unsure if the corp-rat is completely mind-fragged, suicidal, or both, the dwarf switches his aim to the more obvious threat.
OK, something really weird is going on. This guy looks too high-class to be a random crazy; we slot him and we could end up dealing with a lot worse than some fake bulls. After defaulting his image magnification to the normal level and switching the Alpha to semi-auto fire, Crow begins to take careful aim at the Ruger.
"Captain! Give me the go ahead and I'll take a shot at that weapon! No promises, though; I might hit the guy or totally miss, so call it!" Unless he takes a potshot at me; then all bets are off.
Free Action: Call Shot (aim for Ruger) = -4 dice to hit the Ruger.
Simple Action: Take Aim = +1 to hit.
Simple Action: Delay Action (try to shoot the pistol, but waiting for an order or to see if the guy shoots at me).
Ok, spectral bulls. Fair enough. Absolutely insane, but hey, that's magic, right? Giant tree demolishing a building, quillcats terrifying citizens. It's all magic. But now some psycho is pointing a gun at the team? Not fair.
He's aiming a freaking pistol at us! Do I shoot him? He's just some guy!
Hearing Crow, Michael decides that shooting a unhinged civilian with a minigun might cause some bad publicity. Instead, he sends a mental command for his Chariot to come to his position as quickly as possible.
Let's see how this psycho likes Stick-n-Shock rounds.
Calling my Chariot drone to our position.
Abysmal Lynx on
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
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Der Waffle MousBlame this on the misfortune of your birth.New Yark, New Yark.Registered Userregular
edited March 2009
"No time to negotiate, we'll have to take him down, first. Take Cover!"
Raven quickly instructed her weapon to drop the loaded clip to the ground, slapping in a magazine of Stick-n-shock. She swiftly brings the weapon to her shoulder, aims, and squeezes the trigger twice.
Following standard SWAT ROE and neutralizing an armed opponent aiming a weapon at another officer.
A shot pings off the ground by Raven's feet as the 'armed opponent' lays wiggling on the ground grunting and squeeling. "What the drek-gah, jezit. I'm on fire!" With muscles seizing up, a few more shots fire randomly before the gun slips out of his spasming grip. Tendrils of smoke begin to rise up off his jacket. Thermographic clearly shows his body temperature is rising.
Posts
Sending a command to the roto-drone to head closer to the (really weird) lightning, Michael also told his Hotspur to release the Chariot drone. After commanding it to search the areas nearby Michael finally launched his Steel Lynx.
“Lynx, guard 2nd Lt. Key,” he indicated the elf on his AR display, “and me from any hostiles. Protection of 2nd Lt. Key is given higher priority then protection of myself. "
She's on a bike after all. No safe, bulletproof glass between her and... giant... porcupine... spirit... things. Man, I really wish I had more Steel Lynxes. Or was a hundred kilometers away from here. Either one.
Sighing, Michael called the Captain to report in. “Strickland here, drones have been dispatched and are currently searching the area.”
A Knight Errant patrol car pulls up about fifty yards from the intersection, and Frankie carefully extracts himself and his gear from the back seat. Having done so he thumps hard on the roof of the car twice and shouts out "Thanks, buddy, I owe ya one."
Fully kitted out, Frankie looks every bit the Ares recruiting poster. Sleek full body armor mottled in shades of grey, green and blue; Ares shotgun slung over his black, and a wonderfully-maintained Ares sniper rifle being carried in a (currently) non-hostile manner. He's even got matching patches on his uniform and weapon; a stylised thunderbird.
Acting chill and professional now that he's in public (Ares PR and his wife have trained him well), he salutes Raven and starts heading over to clarify an issue, doing a quick headcount of Lone Star personnel and lallygagging civilians.
"Ma'am, I need authority to procure a Grade-E sentient magical asset or two, for recon and environmental protection; do I have that authorization to do so?"
Current loadout:
full body armor
Ares Thunderbird (sniper rifle) + 3 clips APDS (10)
Ares DX49 (shotgun) + 3 clips normal (10)
Large Smuggling compartment contains: 2 of above-mentioned clips; also a cold naan bread wrapped around leftover irish stew. Mmmmm.
--
An itch begins to gnaw at your mind, Frankie. Maybe it's the pressure, or the emotions coming from the crowd, but you begin to feel uneasy.
A rock comes flying dangerously close to your head from in front.
"Anything you need me to do? I could cruise around in my Comet so there'd be an extra set of eyes but until we have an enemy my skills aren't that useful."
Key sighed, glancing around casually as she drove through the deserted, rainy streets.
This could be a lot more fun if there were some people to race with here.
She quickly rushed forward, pressing herself flat against the side of the building. "Do whatever you need, Thunderbird, but keep it on its leash till we need it. Crow, Gino, Strickland, get to my location!" She kept her weapon scanning roofward. "Key, report in, and get yourself back here, now!"
They'd better not have hurt my bike.
Turning around quickly, she attempts to brush the spiders off of her bike, making a break for the line of Lone Star security.
As a precautionary measure, Crow mentally nudged his Wired Reflex system to get it warmed up and humming. A tiny icon appeared on his cybernetic vision display, indicating the system was fully activated. Grabbing his Ares Alpha from his driver's-side holster, he set the rifle in his lap and sent a second mental signal. This message flipped the Alpha from "Safety" to "Full auto". The Captain's order had sounded urgent enough to convince the dwarf that the situation was about to really get cooking.
Crow stopped the van near the Captain, noting that she was clearly looking for something up high. He shifted the van into park, keyed off the motor, and opened the door. He hopped out and, mimicking the Captain's posture, pressed himself against the van's side. Using both the vehicle's body and the door as cover, he began scanning the rooftops himself. Thermals were picking up tantalizing flickers and slivers here and there, but whatever was up didn't seem ready to reveal a full profile yet.
Hope we don't have to engage right here. Can't risk offensive grenades around this crowd. A bad blast might bring down a building right on top of them.
First burst (15d6.hits(5)=5)
Second burst (14d6.hits(5)=4)
Wow, that was some pretty terrible rolls. Anyway, Smartlink on my gun and glasses gives me +2, and the Sakura Fubuki only takes a -1 recoil penalty on the second burst rather than the usual -3/-4. Both bursts are narrow, aimed at whatever's behind me. Still got 34 bullets in my gun.
--
Frankie's head begins to throb, an asperin would probably be helpful around now.
No clue about that voice, but this is definitely not normal.
Still keeping an eye on the rooftops, the dwarf turns to face the Mueller's general direction. "Hey Captain! You hearing this voice or is just me?"
Intuition(4) + Willpower(2) + Perception(3) = 9 dice.
9d6.hits(5) = 2
He could feel the magical energies flowing as the spirit start to bend to his will, but something other was interfering. The headache and chills he'd been suffering since he arrived on the scene were apparently more of a hindrance than he'd expected, and just as he was reaching the peak of the ritual, the mystic energies cut off with a snap; the experience very much akin to brain freeze, leaving Frankie reeling & staggering to maintain his position.
"AARGH! Frag it!"
Seeking respite from the discomfort, he snaps open the visor of his helmet and takes a couple of deep breaths to recompose himself.
Spirit's Force check5d6 - 2 hits
Drain resistance: Drain value to beat is 2x2 - 4 hits
Willpower+Charisma 8d6 - 2 hits
Summary: No spirit comes, Frankie takes two boxes of stun damage. Huzzah!
Michael panicked slightly at Raven's command but managed to calm himself with the familiar litany he'd made up during his first combat situation with his drones.
Metal. Safe metal. Jump. Shoot.
Jumping into his Steel Lynx, Michael felt safe. He had armor and a big gun. And he wasn't actually there. Best part of rigging. Moving his new, sleek body to the Captain's side, he started searching the rooftops with his electronic eyes. His minigun was armed and ready to fire as soon as he saw anything. Meanwhile, the meat body of Michael Strickland was curled in a protective ball in the driver's seat of the Hotspur, its mind not there at the moment.
No spiny felines or other mysterious metacritters have shown themselves since the one Key put down. From down the empty street, you can hear a blood curdling scream and hurried footsteps. With the advanced visual capabilities your team is capable of, it's easy to make out a human male running towards you, constantly checking over his shoulder. He's dressed in the latest trendy suit with shifting colors and patterns, a pair of thick black sunglasses over his eyes. Something dark is partially obscured behind him.
As he runs he tries to identify the chased man and hopes that he'll make it before the thing catches up to him.
Not waiting for Strickland to respond, Crow quickly moved around his van and out into the street, keeping his weapon trained on the nearest rooftop and glancing at the one across the street. Stinking magic. World's crazy enough already without people making giant alleycat monsters. Against conventional weapons, moving into the open street was a risk at the very least. However, these things looked like they wanted to get up close and nasty; Crow wanted as much open space between them and him as possible.
Even if these quill-things do have some long-range surprises, I'm betting they'll have to pop up to hit us anyway. I'd rather have at least a chance at some clear shots instead of getting some critter-magic square in the back. Ignoring the distraction down the road wasn't easy, but Crow knew he still had plenty of time to respond if that black mess decided to get personal. No telling how fast those quillcats could get down here, though. Doubt we want to find out, though.
Kneeling in the street, the dwarf remained focused on the rooftops. With the hammering rain, his thermal vision was now completely free of interference. He stepped up his image magnification and waited for the hostiles to make the first move.
The uneasy silence, while disturbing, is a little bit more comforting than noisy chaos. Concentrating again, Frankie focuses on the more familiar tones of the spirits of man; not as rich or sharp as the true nature spirits; more sporadic in nature. As he tenses up, Frankie projects a thought with his summoner's call, furrowing his brow.
Spirits, you listen! That silence is death! You gonna die with it? Help me, for frags sake! Help me help you!
A thoughtful moment passes, and Frankie feels the release of a successful call to the spirit world being placed, the being's presence making itself known to him.
OK then shaman, you got me. This better be good.
In more satisfied tones, Frankie jumps on the comms again as he moves to get a bit of cover, and says "Asset online, captain, waitin' fer further instructions."
Frankie gives up on air and tries to summon a Spirit of Man
9d6 (Magic+Summoning) vs 5d6 (Spirit Force) = 5 vs 1 = 4 net successes!
Willpower+Charisma vs Drain Value (need 2 hits) = 2 successes, no drain
Summary: 4 services from a Force 5 Spirit of Man, no drain taken
Spirit of Man can...
vs a target
Accident - can cause a target to mess up. 10d6 vs Rea+Int opposed roll, or can force a vehicle to make a crash test with -5 penalty.
Confusion - 10d6 vs Willpower. Net hits deduct from target's dice pools
Influence - 10d6 vs Willpower. Success means target follows suggestion or changes emotion.
Fear - 10d6 vs Willpower. Success means target flees for 1 Combat Turn per net success. Target must succeed at Will+Cha vs (net success) test to return or face off with spirit again.
Group Buffs
Concealment - can cover up to 5 people; people trying to perceive them get -5 dice.
Guard - protect up to 5 people; prevents Accident and ca be used to prevent glitches.
Can also just lay the smackdown also. Gets 2 initiative passes in physical, ignores most physical damage.
Running up the length of an overturned truck, he leaps into the air and grabs a hold of a street sign. Moments later, the truck is knocked away by the multi-ton rushing steaks. If he loses his grip, he's going to get stamped flat or skewered.
--
The rooftops seem clear, for now. You swear you saw a senorita in a flowing crimson skirt and white puffy shirt in one of the upper windows, but she is gone in a blink. Over the sound of stampeding hooves, there seems to be a faint cheering in the air but its source is unplacable.
"It all seems to be smoke and mirrors, captain! I've got no damn idea what's going on!"
I'll let you know now, Shaman. I only came because you seem to be moving closer to the fun going on tonight. Bore me and I'll have to create my own entertainment.
The smile widens as the eye sockets flash red momentarily. When Raven turns towards you, the shadow behaves perfectly normally. The voice is of the scale between male and female, with a slight cityspeak accent.
"Aaaaaah, we got some high-scale paranormal activity to say the least, ma'am, and I got no idea why or how, but I reckon we gotta get movin' and take a position. Whatever it is knows where we are, an' this spirit is givin' me backchat."
Readying his shotgun and checking its workings, Frankie queries, "Have we got any other info from recon yet?"
About fifty feet away from you, he pulls a plastic bottle out of his jacket and drops a few white specks into his hand. Tilting his head way back, he slams them down his throat. With his free hand, he pulls something else out from his jacket and points it in your direction. "Alright pilgrims, let me show you how to shoot down some of these 'ere cans." The Ruger Super Warhawk that's now oriented towards you certainly looks real.
OK, something really weird is going on. This guy looks too high-class to be a random crazy; we slot him and we could end up dealing with a lot worse than some fake bulls. After defaulting his image magnification to the normal level and switching the Alpha to semi-auto fire, Crow begins to take careful aim at the Ruger.
"Captain! Give me the go ahead and I'll take a shot at that weapon! No promises, though; I might hit the guy or totally miss, so call it!" Unless he takes a potshot at me; then all bets are off.
Initiative score = Initiative + Initiative hits = 16
Free Action: Call Shot (aim for Ruger) = -4 dice to hit the Ruger.
Simple Action: Take Aim = +1 to hit.
Simple Action: Delay Action (try to shoot the pistol, but waiting for an order or to see if the guy shoots at me).
Ok, spectral bulls. Fair enough. Absolutely insane, but hey, that's magic, right? Giant tree demolishing a building, quillcats terrifying citizens. It's all magic. But now some psycho is pointing a gun at the team? Not fair.
He's aiming a freaking pistol at us! Do I shoot him? He's just some guy!
Hearing Crow, Michael decides that shooting a unhinged civilian with a minigun might cause some bad publicity. Instead, he sends a mental command for his Chariot to come to his position as quickly as possible.
Let's see how this psycho likes Stick-n-Shock rounds.
Raven quickly instructed her weapon to drop the loaded clip to the ground, slapping in a magazine of Stick-n-shock. She swiftly brings the weapon to her shoulder, aims, and squeezes the trigger twice.
Reaction Intuition = 9 + (9d6.hits(5)=4)
Wired Reflexes are on, using both initiative passes if necessary.
Firing a double tap (two SA shots) of stick and shock ammo.
Agility 8 Automatics 4 SMG specialization 2 Smartgun 2 = 16
Target is running -2
First shot has no recoil, second shot is cancelled out by recoil compensation (1)
Smartgun is using image magnification and thermographic vision for no modifiers for range, and -2 from heavy rain. (12d6.hits(5)=5, 12d6.hits(5)=4)
Stick and Shock damage is 6s, AP -half, and uses impact armor.