The Great Awakening

[Belial_the_Leveler]

"The truth is out there."
Cliche, unimaginative and so very wrong. In reality, humanity's short attention span and the human tendency to rationalize what you cannot understand or explain has severely limited the modern world's ability to perceive the universe as it really is. Science and applied technology have been writing down what they perceive as natural laws, measuring and categorizing the world. An exercise in futility. Creation neither conforms to numbers nor obeys some unbreakable edicts from on high; things happen because they happen and the way they happen can be (and often is) changed if one is determined and powerful enough. From that one axiom interesting things follow; the transmutation of lead into gold. The healing of wounds with a touch. The conjuration and evocation of matter and energy out of nothing. Shapechanging into animals and making the dead walk. Oh, and extra-dimensional spirits that take on physical form and descend from the stars on umbral wings to Sodom and Gomorrah your back yard. Those alien conspiracy and cosmic horror guys had to be right about *something.* So wake up, put on that pair of black sunglasses, take up garlic, holy water, an AK-47 and an incomprehensible tome full of elder signs and take a better look at your neighborhood. For the truth isn't out there.
It walks among you.

-Morgan LeFay, on the nature of the world-




The city of San Francisco is never quiet at night. The old truism holds; the city never sleeps. In the past few weeks things have been a lot more active than usual, too;
A series of respectable banks have been robbed with no trace. Or at least no trace the police can find so far. CSIs are stumped; there is no camera footage, bank guards who have been at the scene at the time of the crime know nothing, there are no prints, toolmarks or other trace evidence. And the way the safes have been opened... suffice it to say that in nearly a month no clue has been found.
The criminal underworld is boiling; several major criminal organizations held money-laundering operations through many of those banks. Not only millions of dollars have been lost but now their operations are under the scrutiny of the police. Once those responsible are found, heads will roll.
Certain other parties are interested in the whole affair for reasons of their own. In certain circles, directions are passed down from on high and investigators are sent to the crimescenes.

Unfortunately, every investigation so far has come to a dead end or the investigators have mysteriously disappeared... only to reappear in at least five locations at once. The state does not like losing good people. The criminal underworld does not like losing money. Various third parties have motivations of their own and while they won't share them, they have agreed with the others; an unofficial joint operation has to be arranged. Unfortunately, official channels cannot interfere and the Mob doesn't want to draw any more attention; the would-be investigators have been sent with no knowledge of the case and no official backup. Unofficially, support is offered as long as it doesn't blow off the whistle on the whole thing.
The first meeting for the unofficial team has been set up for one Tuesday midnight in the empty alley behind the latest crime scene...



Your character should make an appearance. Full description for them. You don't know eachother but you have been told others are going to participate as well. A "special" contact is to appear at the scene once the entire team is there.

Roleplay a bit and keep tabs on who is aware and who isn't. Things should be interesting.

[Lycar]

Earlier that week

Location: A corner office on the 23rd floor of a high-rise building. A big desk (mahagony?) and sensible leather upholstery on the chairs and couches.

A glass table next to a cupboard that probably houses a well-stocked wet bar and some tasteful pieces of art on the two walls that are not composed of glass.

Sitting in the chair at the desk is one Mr. Abercomby, of Abercomby, Stilton & Partners.

"You understand that this is a very delicate situation, Mr. Thorpe."

It wasn't a question.

"Of course, Mr. Abercomby."

The man sitting opposite looked like he was just a tad nervous. His buisiness attire (suit, necktie, thin-rimmed spectacles) and small frame gave him the look of a stereotypical clerk. Accountant maybe.

"These.... 'incidents' are causing quite a stir. You know how many of the financial institutions who got 'robbed' lately have contracts with our company?"

"Yes Sir, five of them, I have read the file."

"And in each and every case, no possible explanation has been found for just how all that money, all those stock certificates and all that gold and jewelry could possibly have gone missing from their vaults."

"Yes Sir. Quite inexplicable Sir. The police is stumped, I understand."

"They are not the only ones. Of course you know very well that we at Abercomby, Stilton and Partners can not, in good consciece, authorise any payments to our claimants when they can not field satisfactory proof that a crime has indeed taken place. That would fly in the face of everything we at Abercomby, Stilton and Partners stand for."

The big man pauses for a moment (maybe for dramatic effect) and puts on a well-practised frown.

"Of course, at the same time, our clients are, understandably, not all too happy with the state of affairs. Now we have done everything in our power to help shed light onto these strange incidents. We have so far barely avoided being taken to court over this matter. The very reputation of our company is at stake here, Mr. Thorpe."

"Yes Sir, I understand Sir."

The small man takes a breath, clears his throat and ventures "Sir, but what I do not understand is: How can I be of help in this matter?"

"I understand that you are a pretty competent claims adjuster. You work with Simmons in the fraud division, don't you."

"Yes Sir."

"You do investigations, don't you. Go on site, look for evidence of fraudulent behavior, ask questions and such. You even do finacial background screenings and all that?"

"Yes Sir, to uncover possible motives for insurance fraud. Hidden debts, undeclared insurance policies, that sort of thing."

Mr. Abercomby quirks an eyebrow at that "Hidden debts?"

"Yes Sir. You know, like gambling debts. They aren't exactly tax-deductible if you know what I mean. And the mob can be a lot less forgiving about debts then the IRS."

"Really now?"

"Yes Sir. A few years ago we had a case where a man claimed to have lost an arm in an accident involving a buzz saw. It all looked legitimate enough at first glance, the kind of injury was consistent with the damage report and all that. And the contract had been signed a few years ago, instead of merely days or weeks ago, as it happens in so many fraud cases. Still, we had a... feeling about the case and decided to investigate. Turned out the claimate had accrued... substantial gambling debts. So he had been... 'convinced' to solve his problem by losing a limb, rather then his life."

"I see. How did you prove the accident was not an accident then?"

"Actually, we never got around to that. We summoned the claimate to a hearing and confronted him with the evidence and told him, that we would not pay a dollar until he came up with a.. 'better story'..."

"And then he cracked under the pressure and confessed?"

"Not quite... It would seem the guy had been under just a bit too much pressure. As far as the police figured it out, he tried to skip the country but... the mob got him first. We then settled out of court with the relatives."

"I see... Well, as long as the company was protected form a dishonest client, I can not fault you for that."

"But this is just what we need at the moment: Someone who looks into this wretched affair and shines some light on it. See what scrambles for the darkness. Find something we can work with. Ideally, you could find proof that these alleged 'robberies' were inside jobs. Then we would be off the hook. If you would find out how the crimes have actually been committed."

Mr. Abercomby shrugs, buisines-like.

"It would at least allow us to close these cases to the satisfaction of our clients. That is almost as good. Do you think you are up for the task, Mr. Thorpe?"

"Yes, Sir, I do believe so, Sir. I will not disappoint you, Sir."

"I should hope not." Mr. Abercomby says as he pushes a thick file folder over to the other man. "This file contains everything you need to know. This operation is actually a joint venture between several... interested parties. Your experience and expertise will be a welcome and valuable addition to the task force. Any questions?"

The man picks up the folder and shakes his head. "No Sir, not right now, Sir. If anything comes up, I will make sure to ask for your advice, Sir."

"Very well then, Mr. Thorpe! You know what your job is, now do go forth and make it good!" Mr. Abercomby beams. His voice makes it clear that this is as much encouragement as it is a thinly veiled threat.

#####
Three days ago.


Location: A pub in the downtown, bustling with activity. In a both, two man are drinking beer and having an argument, or so it seems.

"Are you sure you do want to do this? People have disappeared for f++ks sake! And those who did reappaer were frigging dead!"

"I just can't tuck in my tail and run," moaned Norman Thorpe, "I promised I would get the job done..."

"Or die trying!? Norman, this isn't worth it! We are claims adjusters, not James frigging Bond! Look, I understand where you are coming from, professional ethics and all that, but..."

"No but! I have to do this! At least.. give it a honest try. If I don't turn up anyhting useful in a week or so, I can still throw in the towel."

"Provided you are still alive to do it. *sigh* I see you are just as stubborn as your old man. Fine, a man gotta do what a amn gotta do and all that. But be careful! I did a little background check on two of the names in that folder. These people aren't PIs, they are friggin mercenaries! Hired thugs! They are dangerous!"

"Well, so much the better. I am working with them, remember? So if anything happens, I have at least two people around who know how to handle danger."

"At least get yourself a gun!"

"I would have to apply for a permit first. And those take..."

"Norman, for god's sake, don't be so stubbornly stupid! YOu don't have a week for the paperwork to clear! Look, I know where you can get a gun without all the red tape..."

"Are you out of your mind? i'm not getting an illegal firearm! We are working with the authorities here! I can't go around carrying contraband! Just no!"

"Okay, fine, be that way. But... for your old man's sake: If you change your mind, give me a call, you hear me?"

"Yes Sir, Mr. Simmons, Sir!"

"*sigh*"


####

This evening.

Location: An empty alley behind the lates crime scene.

In wanders a middle aged man of small frame and middling heigth, wearing a coat over his buisiness attire and a briefcase. His brown hair is cut short with a parting on the left side and his equally brown eyes peer through thin rimmed, round glasses.

All in all, apart from the hair colour, he looks a bit like Herr Otto Flick of Allo' Allo' fame.

Except that he really doesn't have the tough-guy air of an Gestapo officer around him.

Feeling a bit silly, Norman Thorpe begins to pace around. What a place for a buisiness meeting, really!

At least he had enough sense to swap his usual sensible black shoes for his running shoes. The dark blue ones. Don't clash with his trousers as much as the white ones do.

(Well, this is a fine mess I got myself into. I can just hope that the people I am supposed to work with are consumate professionals. Mercenary or otherwise...)

Lycar

[DrakebloodIV]

Reed Corbisson walked up to the alley, smoking a cigarette as he strode. He came to a back door and unslung his rifle from his back. Checking the sights and putting out his cig he waited for others to arrive.

[DrakebloodIV]

Pulling a letter from his pocket, Reed peered at it a moment before speaking.

"'Ey, th' names Reed. Wossyurs?"


Three weeks before

Reed walked up to the house in an aging suit. The college years had not done well for his bank. He knocked on the door, nervious to meet his fathers squad buddy. The door squeaked open and he was greeted by an aging american man, dressed in his uniform for the occasion.

"Hello, I'm Edmond Jacobs. You called and told me you knew Jack McCorb?"

"I'm his grandson. He gave me a letter on his deathbed saying I should come and get you."

"I knew this day would come, come with me."

Edmond walked with Reed down a staircase and they came to a room containing World War Two pariphinalia. Pulling an aged leather case from the wall, he opened it up and pulled out an old rifle

"The Lee-Enfield sniper rifle. Sturdy, reliable, deadly accurate. Back in my day I could hit a fly off a wall from three hundred yards."

Snapping the rifle up in his hand, Edmond spun it around and sighted it before firing it to the left of Reed. A burst of fire shot out of the gun and formed the shape of a dragon. It let out a shrill scream and knocked Reed back.

"AAAGGGGHHHH!"

"Scream all you like, son. I've had this soundproofed so I can keep some of my more... abberant... posessions in here. You need to know about your grandfather. He and I were in a subset of the army. He was in a division known as the spellsnipers. He wielded magic and guns hand in hand. Every war story you've heard, every medal he earned, those are only of the tiny percent of actions he took that arent classified anymore. Your grandfather was more of a war hero than you know. Take my gun, and learn our art, I don't know where your father put his Soulgun, but with any luck you'll be able to find it.

Reed had the gun shoved into his hand and was pushed upstairs and out the door. He looked at it and than withdrew the letter from his pocket, reading a few lines. He put the gun in its case and took a taxi home.


Earlier that day

Reed strode into the office of Mr. Gerard LeFabvre. He layed his gun down on the desk and spoke with the man.

"Ah'v been told you are the person tah talk about wit regahds tah tha slew of bank robberies. Ah'd be willin' to work fa free if ya would get me all tha bank records of a late misser Jack McCorb. I need to find a posession of mah late grandpa.

[gigz]

Having come early and hidden in the dark recesses of the alley, Ken intently watches the newcomers. As they makethemselves known, Ken steps out of the shadows and politely bows. Wearing what seems to be loose fitting jeans and a simple cotton shirt, his asian face framed by a rough cut head of brown hair. "Konbawa. Watanabe Ken'ichi desu." Nothing more comes out, just a simple name and greeting.

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

One day ago


Location: Downtown Los Angeles
Apartment room of Arcos Q. Buss


The door slams open.

"ARCOS!" shouts a silhouette. "GET YOUR STINKING ASS TO SAN FRANSISCO! NOW!"

"Huh? Oh, 'kay."


--------------------------------------------------------------------

Present time
Location: dark alleyway, San Francisco

Arcos finishes tinkering with the Thompson Contender in his lap and looks up. It takes him a moment to realize that he is no longer in his LA apartment anymore.

"Uh..." He scratches his head in bewilderment, wondering why there were several people standing around, each obscured by shadow. "...is this L.A?"

He looks around some more.

"Nnnope, definitely not." He stares awkwardly at the people around him, wondering what they (and he) were doing here.

He reaches into his pocket to grab his cell phone when his hand feels a scrap of paper. Curious, he yanks it out, tries to read it, fails due to the dark lighting, pulls out his cellphone to illuminate the paper, and finally realizes why he is here.

"Ohhh...right, right, I'm stupid. Hello, my name's Arcos Buss and, uh, according to my boss, I'm supposed to be working with you guys on something or other.

...

Anyone here like guns? I do."

As he says so, he steps out of the shadows and into a bit of streetlight that managed to find its way into the back alley. He is fairly tall, almost 6 feet, but his slightly stooped appearance, general thinness, and almost goofy clumsiness makes him look rather harmless. He is wearing comfortable but fairly dark clothes that blend in quite well with the shadows.

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Being slightly taken aback by the sudden appearance of 2.. no, 3 more people, Norman takes just a moment to look around for more people hiding in the shadows.

Spot: [roll0]

Regaining his composure, Norman introduces himself.

"Good evening Mr. Reed, Sirs... My name is Norman Thorpe, I'm with Abercomby, Stilton and Partners. And you are... ?"

He looks at the other two people, who didn't give their names so far expectantly (he doesn't speak japanese after all).

Lycar

[The Glyphstone]

Earlier That Week

Lord above, have I mentioned lately how much I hate my job sometimes?

Arnold scowls down at the heaping pile of papers in his "In" box, all of which would have to eventually be transferred into the empty "Out" box, or otherwise filed. Filed, copied, filed again, and signed in triplicate, as mandated bureaucracy in the city. It was almost as if the suits upstairs wanted to keep Special Crimes buried in paperwork so they couldn't accomplish anything useful.

Now that he thought about it, that wasn't so far-fetched. Some of the city's monsters could do things to people's minds, and it wasn't unlikely that one of the captains or even the Comissioner himself had gotten zapped by them. Arnold could have sworn (if he ever swore) that one of the janitors on the night staff didn't have a reflection in mirrors.

Grunting in frustration and ignoring the other officers in the cramped room as he did every morning, he crammed himself down behind his too-small desk and picked up the first sheet of paper.
Another mysterious bank robbery? God Almighty help me...


Yesterday:

Profanity was getting more and more tempting. Two more strange robberies - two! And still not any hint of a clue. It was beginning to fray Arnold's nerves, and even the other SC rejects were starting to feel the strain, though in their case it was simply an issue of the bureaucratic attention they preferred to avoid. The pressure was on SC to do something about it, which was the subject of the newest memo - a single sheet of paper, simply worded, that nonetheless made Arnold want to hurl it into the nearest incinerator along with his badge.

If he had ever needed more proof that the central police leadership was in bed with the city's scumbags, this was it - blanket approval of anything necessary to solve the bank break-ins, explicitly including unofficial aid from "unconventional avenues". Arnold knew what that meant. He was SC's primary field officer, primarily because he was the only one who bothered to get off his rear end and hunt down the things that went bump in the city night. Now he was being ordered, in typical round-about fashion, to go work alongside the sort of people he had locked up in jail for years before SC, agents and lackeys of the city's crime families who were losing money in the crooked banks.

This was a decision beyond him. Tonight, he would have to go home and pray, beseech God for some sort of sign that what he was being ordered to do would not bring sin upon him - his crusade against unnatural evils did not preclude using mere mortal evils against themselves, but all the same he would not rest easy until he had recieved some sort of approval from an authority more potent than the ones who gave him his paycheck.


In The Alley:
Dressed in civilian clothes, his service pistol in a concealed holster underneath a bulky jacket and his badge safely stored in a pocket, Arnold stalks down the alley towards the others already gathered there. He scowls silently, his eyes flickering momentarily with a spark of odd radiance that might have been just a hallucination or a reflection from the streetlights.

Let's see how many underbelly sucklers are already present...best I know who I want in front of me, not behind...

(OOC: Detect Evil)

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Making a distracted wave of hello at the overcoat-wearing bespectacled man, Arcos peers closely as he can to the civilian-clothed newcomer who seemed to be glaring at him.


Knowledge check to identify Arnold's gun and to remember anything about it (caliber, magazine size, average rate of fire, manufacturer, etc.)

Knowledge: firearms
[roll0]

[DrakebloodIV]

"We'll I'm guessin' you folks are here for the job wit da robberies. I'm 'ere for 'at too, but I'm wot we call a 'private contractah.' Yasee I'm pretty sure dat these 'ere banks are 'oldin' somfin' ov value tah me in one o dere safe deposit boxes."

Reed is dressed in a thinly cut leather jacket, jeans and converse all stars. He wears his hair down to eye level in a rough feathered cut.

[The Glyphstone]

(OOC: Did you miss the 'concealed holster' part? :smallsmile: )

[13_CBS]

(OOC: Did you miss the 'concealed holster' part? :smallsmile: )

(OOC: He's uh, he's special. Sharp eyes and all that.

...

Fine, I did miss the "concealed" part. :smallredface: :smalltongue:

A Spot check to notice the gun, maybe?)

[DrakebloodIV]

(note: Reed speaks with an irish accent)
"Well who da hell're we supposed to see about findin' dese fukahs?"

[WrathOfLife]

A very tall man walks slowly down the alley to meet with the others (Yes, he pings evil). As he comes closer it becomes apparent that he is wearing a very fine business suit, of the sort that wouldn't stand out if he was strolling through wall street. His black pants and coat with white shirt, contrast dramatically with his blood red tie and white oak walking stick. His shoes make that small tapping noise that good formal shoes tend to make when walking down alleyways.

Once he reaches the group he glances around slowly, meeting each persons gaze one by one, before giving a general nod to the group.


"Good evening. I am Sir Jeffrey Williton. I believe we are to work together. It appears Mr Reed and I share the same profession, presuming I heard correctly."

[DrakebloodIV]

"Well hello ta you too. I presume tha' by 'the same job' you mean either independent contractor, arcaneist or employee of tha banks. Because it's clear ta me ya are no warriah"

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

The Tall man smiles coldly at Reed, before shifting his gaze to the mans weapon. Jeffrey's black gloved hands tighten on his walking stick ever so slightly before answering.

"Yes, I am contractor, with a party interested in seeing an end to these..." Jeffrey's smile becomes slightly sinister "unfortunate events. I am to follow and provide assistance where its needed. Tell me Mr Reed, how do you intend to help?"

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"Private contractor, private contractor..." mutters the lean man cleaning his gun. "You know, my boss called me that a few times, I think."

[DrakebloodIV]

"By tha sound o tha phrase independant contratah, we should be layin drywall. Not investahgatin' a series of mysterious bank robberies"

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

(I forgot to mention, Williton is unaware)

Sir Jeffrey Williton, smiles at Arcos, glancing down at his weapon then back to his face.

"Yes I suspect he would. I've heard about you.... Mr Buss. It is good to finally meet you in person. Perhaps when this is over we could discuss our respective trade craft? However for now, he have work to do."

Turning towards Norman Thorpe. Jeffrey nods slightly towards him "Mr Thorpe I assume? It is a pleasure to be working with you. I trust you have confidence in solving this case?"

[DrakebloodIV]

"An' misser Jeffry, my specialty lies in taking not dead fings and suddenly making 'em deader"

[Lycar]

Turning towards Norman Thorpe. Jeffrey nods slightly towards him "Mr Thorpe I assume? It is a pleasure to be working with you. I trust you have confidence in solving this case?"

Norman Thorpe

Norman begins to feel slightly... uneasy in the vicinty of these people. They seem... dangerous. The fact that they are supposed to be on his side seems, sadly enough, not as reassuring as one might hope for.

Clearing his throat a bit, he answers "It would not do to tackle any case with a negative mindset. Although the prospect of solving a case that has even the police stumped might seem daunting, there is still the fact that a lot of other people's money went missing."

Norman pauses, readjusting his glasses.

"That, as you certainly understand, makes the prospect of not solving the case even more daunting."

"Maybe the other gentlemen want to finish introductions?"

Lycar

[The Glyphstone]

The tall, middle-aged man grinds his teeth audibly in the darkness, though he recognizes that at least half of his 'companions' were at the least cosmically neutral, or not yet deepened in sufficient sin to bear an aura of taint. The other two, though - he would just have to deal with it.

For introductions, he says only, "Sgt. Bernman, SFPD Special Crimes Unit."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The clicking sounds of booted feet striking pavement come from the darkness and not much later a young woman appears out of the gloom coming towards you. Not much taller than five feet even with three-inch spike heels and probably below the hundred-pound mark, she looks like a child.

Her slight build however is not the thing that strikes you as odd; it is her clothing that really stands out. Red leather boots and matching skirt, a crimson scoop-necked blouse, a black belt and an overcoat maybe a size too high that is a deeper red color that matches her eyes. Long tresses of red hair and a blushing, delicate face would mark her as English or Irish if not for her diminutive stature. As things stand though, she looks like the Little Red Riding Hood-sans the hood. Her voice, while childish enough to match a teenager's, is dead serious and too cultured to belong to someone as young;

Good evening, gentlemen. My name is Yiscah Emrys though those of you with less knowledge or love for things of old may call me Jessica. I trust the arrangements so far are to your satisfaction? Not much of a meeting place, this bloody alley, yet it is adjacent to where we need to be. Both your superiors and mine want this... situation resolved in due haste.

[DrakebloodIV]

"Do yah mind if ay ask 'ow a bunny lass such as yerself got muked uppin fings like this?"

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The "girl" smiles.
Appearances can be deceiving. Judge not with your eyes and you'll not be led astray. Case in point...
With a flourish of her wrist, the young woman is suddenly holding a gleaming black revolver in her left hand. Not your usual handgun though; this one is more than two feet long and the muzzle is as wide as her wrist while the five-bullet cylinder is twice as wide as a coke can. It must weigh more than a rifle-or even most machineguns.
Custom-made Zeliska 1.5 bore; works on everything from bums to tanks. A friend of mine was kind enough to lend it over in case the case gets uglier than it already is. To quote a role model of mine, do you feel lucky, sir?

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

A slight frown appears on Jeffrey's face at the sight of the overtly large weapon. Something about this doesn't feel right, and the worst of it, he wasn't sure it was the fact that there's a young girl carrying a weapon larger than his head, meeting with him in a dark ally to discuss bank robberies.

"A brave face for such a young child. However, we are here to do business. I trust you are here to do the same. As such, Miss Jessica, I must ask for you to put your weapon away and continue with this meeting."

Jeffrey makes sure to keep his eye's on Jessica's eyes and not the overly large weapon.

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos, however, is not so nearly alarmed by the colossal weapon.

"WOAH! A Zeliska 1.5 caliber?! I...those things are freaking rare! You gotta let me see it...please?"

[gigz]

The asian man stands immpassivly watching. The appearances of such a large caliber weapon seems to not phase him, and he seems to be listening more than anything. Taking in all that is said for possible interpretation at a later time, he stands close enough to hear everything but still stands back from being in front.

[DrakebloodIV]

"Thars no way ya can fire tha. Even from tha shoulder tha sheer kick'd shatter yer rotatah cuff. I'd be surprised if ya could fire tha without breakin ribs. Are ya gonna bolt yer gun down bafore every shot."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The young woman flicks her hand and the gun vanishes. Where it is now-or where she was hiding it in the first place-you have no idea; there doesn't seem to be any place on her where a two-feet-long weapon could vanish to.
Time is of the essence, I suppose. Very well, follow me gentlemen. And a word of warning; keep an open mind lest you end up with an open head.

With that she leads you towards the bank's side entrance a few feet up the alley, a small but fortified metal door. With red-gloved hands she touches the handle and the lock clicks. Then, using just her fingertips, she opens the heavy door without trouble despite her small stature and the two inches thick steel that makes up the frame. The opening leads on to the bank's interior, in the open space behind the registers where stairs lead up to the administrator's office and down to the vaults. Bullet-proof glass separates this space from the rest of the bank while heavy iron bars would block the way down to the vaults.
But not all things are as they should be; the heavy metal grate blocking the vault entrance lies on the floor twenty feet from its original position, there is a four by six hole in the bulletproof screen and the body of a guard is lying on the other side.

Albeit the police have checked this place before us, do make sure not to contaminate the scene any further; this is the most violent robbery in a series of escalating attacks and maybe our best chance to uncover evidence.

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman has been quiet all the while. Too many things to baffle him. First the appearance of what must be a midget, then the trick where she pulls a hand cannon (5 shots) out of ... thin air?

He is still buisy trying to do the mental math ( and always getting a *** DOES NOT COMPUTE, ERROR *** message) when the group is let inside.

But the sight of actual evidence to work with snaps him out of it.

"Ah. Evidence. Yes, xes I can work with that..."

Norman puts down his briefcase and opens it. Retrieving a pair of throw-away latex gloves and his on-site forensic kit with practised moves, he approaches the scene carefully.

"Gentlemen, you heard the lady, let us not contaminate the site before we had a chance to lern what we can."

And so he does a slow but meticulous scan of the scene, noting where the police went before him to dust for fingerprints and, for the time being, blending out the fact that a dead body is also waiting for inspection.

Finally, however, he does approach the corpse for a preliminary scan.

I am not sure what rolls are required. Since we don't have an OOC thread...

Search: [roll0]
Medicine: [roll1] to figure out cause of death.

Maybe to figure out what happened to the bars:

Mechanic: [roll2]
Know. Science: [roll3]

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"Hey, how'd you..." But before he could ask any more of the disappearing hand cannon, the group was moving on.

"Well, shucks. I really wanted to see that..."

He follows the group in silence through the bank's interior, and watches the briefcase wielding gentleman examine the corpse.

"Got anything for us, doc?"

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Norman searches slowly and carefully the entire scene and is rewarded with several piece of information that may prove useful... but unsettling;

There is no sign of forced entry in the bank's side door-or on the front door for that matter.
The still active cameras seem to be working fine, their scan range covering the entire scene; whatever happened they should have recorded in the secure double recorder in the admin's office upstairs.
There is no sign of forced entry to said office and the door is still locked since the police arrived; whoever robbed the place either didn't know or didn't care about the records.
There is no trace of gunfire despite the security guard-whose corpse is now decorating the atrium-having a loaded .38 in his shoulder holster.
The bulletproof glass has been shattered by the force a large object being shoved through has applied. If the bloody edges of the glass, the cuts upon the body and the glass shards scattered over half the bank and towards the body's location are any indication, it was the guard that was hurled through the security glass.
The body is twenty-two feet and three inches away from the hole in the glass and does not appear to have been moved posthumously. Judging from the pattern of the glass shards and the thickness of the bulletproof screen the victim went through, he seems to have been thrown the entire distance rather than carried or pushed.
The force required for such a throw... Norman is not sure even a superheavyweight weightlifting champion could have managed it.
The grate and barred door to the underground vault seems to have been blown off its hinges; the bars are crumpled around one spot and buckled outwards, deformation consistent with a concentrated but powerful concussive blow. They also weigh at least a couple hundred pounds and lie seventeen feet from their original position; scraps on the marble floor indicate where they had bounced against it in their trajectory.
The damage indicates a concentrated but powerful explosive... or a headlong collision with a blunt object less than half a foot in diameter backed by several thousand newtons of force.
There are neither incendiary/explosive traces nor any paint, metal or plastic remains; whatever dealt the blow seems to have left no trace behind.
There are traces of heavy condensation on every metal surface in the room; dew drops, a colder than normal temperature and moisture soaking any paper and wooden objects on them.
A flower pot near the bank's main entrance now holds only a few blackened stalks and leaves; whatever plant once lay there seems to have shriveled and died overnight...

Back to the body, Norman sees that the cause of death is quite obvious; multiple cranial fractures from the impact followed by heavy internal bleeding that blackened the tissues without the blood settling at the lowest parts of the corpse; the man has not been dead for more than a few hours.
The fact that the body is still there means the crime scene has not been touched much by forensics; they must have left it for the "special" investigation team.
The guard was a black man in his early thirties, moderately muscled but far larger than average; Normal puts him at just over two hundred and thirty pounds. His gun is still in its holster, the safety on; whatever happened, he never even tried to fire-or was totally surprised and never had the chance.
Something else strikes Norman as odd though; the man is unkempt, unshaven and his clothes are worn and smell odd. His image clashes with that of an employee of a prestigious bank...

[gigz]

Surveying the scene, and noting the latex-glove type searching being done by Norman, Ken will instead head towards the plant. Using his moderate understanding of the Arcane he will look it over thinking it may be a side effect of whatever unnatural forces were at work her in the bank. Once satisfied with his contemplation he will look over both the broken securty glass and the dead guard. He will be carefull to not touch anything other than the plant, knowing his investigative skills are likely insufficient for the task at hand but knowing enough to keep from compromising the scene.

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman concludes his search with an expression of puzzlement and worry. Barely any answers, and those even raise more question. Making a mental note to check the personal files later, he turns to his fellow investigators and reports his findings.

"*Ahem*. I must admit that I can not, for the life of me, explain what happened here. What I can figure from the evidence at hand is that the dead guard was taken by surprise entirely. Either he never saw coming what killed him, or... well... despite all the signs of applied force around here, the side door is undamaged. Which could mean that the guard actually opened it himself. If he was tricked into it or bribed to do so remains a question we need to investigate further."

Norman pauses, running a hand through his hair and looking even more worried.

"The really difficult question, however, is, how does one apply enough force to a vault door to, well, force it open without using explosives? Because I can definitly rule out that option."

(Not to mention how you manage to force a human body through a pane of ballistic glass.) Norman adds in his head.

"At least it is clear that indeed a robbery has taken place. The bank director will be pleased to hear that I will recomend authorizing the payout of the insurance."

Indicating the various cameras surveying the scene he adds "We should try to check out if the cameras picked up anything. Although, if the other cases are any indication, we will probably not find much of use."

Norman turns to Sgt. Berman and nods at him.

"That is what I can glean from this scene in a nutshell. Do you want to take over now, Sgt.? Or should I try for fingerprints?"

Lycar

[gigz]

As he finishes up his own searches, Ken will walk over to where Norman is debriefing, bow slightly, then begin speaking in a heavily accented English.

"I berieve we may wish to verify the identity of the guard. I am suspecting he may either be a patsy or off duty when this crime occured. Does his body have any keys on it?"

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos peers closely at the gun in the guard's holster.

"Huh...the stiff has a .38 revolver in his holster. Kind of a pea shooter for a bank vault guard, isn't it?"

[DrakebloodIV]

"Well Arcos, the guards are really superfluous when ya considah tha fact tha a multi tonne door ah sevral feet ah steel wit a glass relockah and a series ah digital lockin' mechanisms. I 'av sevral questions about tha accurances tha happened heah."

Whipping out a small notepad. Reed began scribbling down several questions:

1.) What are the signs of damage after the removal of the vault door. Are there signs of melting of the door, chemical damage to the steel, warping of the steel, or puncture wounds in the door?

2.) Do the cameras record in the UV, IF or X ray spectrums or do the just record in the visible range? Are there any signs of digital tampering of the video? Is there any other recording devices in the room, such as ultrasonic or pressure sensors?

3.) Do this mans ID and weapon check out with the bank record?

Reed reads these aloud and then flips the page, taking notes as information occurs.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Glancing around along side Mr Thorpe, Jeffrey casual picks up a soaked sheet of paper.

"Water, Mr Thorpe." Jeffrey turns to face Norman with a slight smile on his face as if remembering 'the good old days'.
"I heard a tale a few years back, that I'm sure Mr Bernman remembers, about a man found blown up, and yet there were no blast marks any where. The man was killed with simple air. Air pressure to be precise. I wonder if we're seeing the same thing here. Although there's not a great deal of run off, perhaps there was a rushed clean up?"

[The Glyphstone]

Arnold Bernman

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Arnold looks at Norman for a moment before replying.
"If you've got the training to do it without contaminating anything, go ahead. I've got the preliminary report for this scene sitting on my desk, but I'm not a forensics expert."

He pointedly ignores Jeffrey's comment to him, though privately he does remember the incident in question, and in fact still had a copy of the case report in his unsolved investigation bin, known around SCU as the "X-File Drawer". Arnold's private notes had classified it as a likely act of magic, though what the vic had done to earn the wrath of a sufficiently powerful spellweaver was never known.

[WrathOfLife]

(OOC: Glyphstone, just a heads up but Jeffrey was referring to non-magical air compression. High pressure air around 80+ psi, can when directed at the skin create an exploded look as the air enters and escapes the body. In effect it makes the exposed area look like it blew up from the inside.)

[The Glyphstone]

(OOC:Yes, and I'm pretty sure I remember a spell used in Belial's writing story where a mage magically manipulated air to create just that effect. It's definitely within their power level. Not that Jeffrey would know that, being Unaware and all. )

[WrathOfLife]

(OOC: Well, I was as unaware of that, as Jeffrey! I just thought it would help with explanation if at one stage Jeffrey or one of his co-works offed some one in such a manner.)

[DrakebloodIV]

(ooc: Well all she said was that there was no chemical explosive residue, that dosent rule out fire spells and the like. Also, was the vault airtight? Because if so one could just conjure air into the vault until the pressure blew it open.)

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Ken, with his subtle touch with the supernatural, feels something is off about the entire case; the shrivelled plant, the one that seems to have died, does not appear to have perished of any natural causes. Such rotting away simply cannot happen overnight unless... unless a sufficiently strong source of life-killing energy was present.

Jeffrey examines the corpse himself, aiding Norman in evaluating the clues. Together, they find a clue Norman alone missed before; the dead man appears to have been crushed, yes, but his skeleton seems to have been broken thoroughly, not only from the side of the impact but on both sides as well. There are no toolmarks, fingerprints or unusual-shaped bruises on him; just the marks of even, abrupt and immense pressure on both sides. The wounds are not consistent with any man-made tool. They are, however, consistent with victims of whirlwinds and tsunami waves where an evenly applied but immense force crushes the victim against an obstacle.
Since the body is dry, it would seem that Jeffrey's initial assessment of a current of air used against the man is correct...


Reed heads down carefully to the vault. Like the heavy metal grate that bars entry to the basement, the vault door has been battered down; the two-feet-thick steel is bent and barely hanging from its hinges. Unlike the much lighter grate, it doesn't seem to have been blown apart in a single blow; the impact points of more than two dozen hits are responsible for the bending of the steel. And most impressive of all? The impact craters are all fist-shaped as if someone of immense strength batted down the door with his bare hands.

Inside the vault, two more men in black bulletproof uniforms sporting the bank logo lie dead. The mini-uzi guns they were armed with are holstered and with their safeties on; they didn't have time to fire.
The way they died is more obvious and quite more impressive than the guard's outside; one guard is missing his head. The other has a wrist-sized hole where his heart used to be. Copious amounts of blood have pooled on the vault floor...

Ken and Across, heading upstairs to the bank's archives, realize the door is locked for the night-they'll need the keys that the authorities forgot to provide.


The young woman follows Reed into the vault. Upon seeing the door and the other two corpses she curses loudly in a language you don't understand... then her cellphone rings. You hear one side of a very curious conversation going on.
"Jess here..."
"Yes..."
"Yes, I'm in. It's worse than the others."
"I don't care what you think about that Morgan, we..."
"No, definitely not!"
"Yeah, guess what? It starts with an 'R' and ends with 'ogue master'. You can't expect me to leave them..."
"Don't you dare hang up on..."
"Damnit!"

Snapping the phone closed, she rages in the same unknown language as before for nearly a minute then turns back at you.

I'm sorry, but I have to leave you for a couple of hours... or so my boss commands. Be alert, stay safe and you may continue the investigation; I have to go right now though...



Give me a sense motive check.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Jeffrey frowns as he looks at the body turning to face where it came from Jeffrey's frown deepens. Softly he mutters to himself,

"But how would they get a strong enough fan in here, and turn it on fast enough that the guard couldn't react..."

Turning to look Norman in the eye's Jeffrey adds loud enough for anyone else near by to hear "We need to see the tapes. This just doesn't make sense."

Jeffrey will wait and follow Norman regardless of what he does.

[DrakebloodIV]

(OOC)
Sense Motive Roll
[roll0]


"Jesus H. Christ lady, this place is smashed up. Ah couldn' do this wit' all me spells an' bullets, let alone a fist. D'ya think dis is one a doze conjahd han's tha some mages use?" Reed looks toward the woman for a second before peering back to the carnage. "Ya, okay, ya can go f'ya need ta. Reed lights a cigarette, still staring at the carnage. "Jus' make sure ya call tha othahs in here when ya leave"

[The Glyphstone]

Arnold eyes the small woman.

"Found something more interesting to occupy your time than a mortal human bank vault, have you? Or maybe an unexpected move in whatever shadow game you're intending to use us as pawns in."

Sense Motive:[roll0]

[gigz]

Watanabe Ken'ichi
Sense Motive: [roll0]

Ken mearly shrugs his shoulders at the departure, already deep into thought about the myriad possibilities.

"Jessica-san, we maybe can have key to alchives? We may wish to know who was to be on duty tonight and to compare with the dead staff."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The tiny redhead scowls at Arnold, her red eyes seeming to glow.
Morgaine may see through the eyes and ears and minds of others and my mother may reach through the four winds to turn a situation as she likes but I. Do not. Do. Pawns. If you do not want my help, fine. Let's see how long you'll live without.
Raising her left hand so that her four fingers form a 'V' with the thumb at the side, she nods.
Live long and prosper, officer.
And with that ironic farewell, she vanishes into a red flash, followed by the heavy smell of incense and brimstone that hangs in the air.

In retrospect, Arnold realises the young woman was not angry at him. In fact, she was trying to warn the group; if they did not stay alert, they would not stay safe. And they would not be able to continue the investigation.

Up in the bank's second floor, the door to the archives clicks and opens on its own accord...

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos was getting very confused now. Spells? Mages? And he still wasn't sure what was going on.

"Hey, uh, Mr. Reed, was it? Did you just mention something about 'spells' and 'mages'?"

For the DM's Eyes Only

Sense Motive roll:
Untrained
[roll0]

[DrakebloodIV]

"Yeah, wot of it. That's tha only feasable way someone coulda gotten in 'ere. Th' technology isn' jus' specialized, s' nonexistant. Ya need a full camera failure, a blast tha leaves no melting or burns, a handheld machine tha can smash steel and shatter human flesh, a way ta rot plan's instan'ly. The sheer cost o all 'at is worth more than tha lootin' of all tha banks combined. 'F ya arn' willin' t'accept tha, go home." Reed takes an angry drag from his cigarette and then put it out on Arcos's shirt. "Magic is real, boy. S' big, S' not easy, an' it makes more problems then it solves. You need to deal or die, much though ya migh' think otherwise. Tha girl was a powahful mage, and we've gotten in way ovah ouah heads."

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman goes over the area with the dusting poweder, just to see if any usable prints show up. When the other two corpses are discovered, he has to force himself to stay calm. And his breakfast down. Still, he does his job as good as can do.

Sense Motive: [roll0]

Fortunately, Norman was looking the other way when the petite woman disappeared... just like that.

Still he can't quite help overhearing the mention of something as unscientific as magic...

"Excuse me, did you just say... 'magic'? Seriously?"

Lycar

[DrakebloodIV]

"Yes, yes it is. It is completely real. MAGIC IS ****ING REAL. AND WE'VE PROVOKED A POWERFUL MAGE. Jesus Christ, I know at least someone else here is a mage, how can you not see this. Invisibility, dark energy, superstrength or a conjured hand. Its obvious."

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman just sorta stares at Reed for a moment, then backs away slowly.

"Well, if you say so... you are the expert..."

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos chuckles nervously, and seems unaffected by the cigarette burn on his shirt.

"Heh heh, come on, man, magic can't exist. Mr. Thorpe could come up with something by tomorrow, there's now way magic is real...right?" He seems unsure of himself, though, for what else but something like magic could do such a thing to a bank vault?

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Working along side Norman Jeffrey too missed the young girls exit, however he also failed to hear the talk of magic, that is until Norman questioned it. Glancing over Reed after his little moment Jeffrey shakes his head slightly, before addressing Norman.

"Amateur panicking at the first sign of blood. See it all the time. If a person can't find a reason, they invent one."


I thought it was only Reed who needed to do this but oh well
sense motive [roll0]

[The Glyphstone]

"Oh, it's very real. Very real indeed. And if you haven't learned this till now, consider yourself lucky, because most of what can use it isn't friendly towards what can't. It's safer at night if you can't see what's lurking in the shadows."

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos isn't the most reasonable of people, but even he got worried when two people, both of whom seemed very sane, started insisting that magic is real.

"Huh...you, uh, got any proof, chief? You gotta admit, this is pretty big stuff to swallow."

[DrakebloodIV]

"PROOF, YA WANT POOF? YA'LL ****IN' GET IT!"

Reeds hands glow with blue light and he snarls a phrase in ancient gaelic, three darts of blue light shoot from his hand and strike Jeffrey.

"I've been in cases like this. Tha police hire 'private contracters' ta work on cases tha the cops 'ave no ability ta cope wit. Unfortunately, this time ah got ta deal with inept asses like you 'fore now. An' the thing is, you all ignore it till it strikes ya in tha face. Ah can't deal with tha righ' now, Ah need all ya closeted casters to come the hell out and you mundane fools to quit denyin' the obvious. So get yer head out o the ****in dark."

OOC- 3 magic missiles [roll0]

[The Glyphstone]

Arnold's hand reaches under his coat for a second, then stops and reverses direction, coming out empty.

"Do that again, sir, and I'll have to do something about it. As much as I'd love to see you criminals beat each other senseless, we do have a crime to solvel. And as for you..."

His now-empty hand extends towards Jeffrey, touching the bruises left by the magical attack. A soft white light illuminates the fingertips for a moment, echoed by a similar light emanating from the cross necklace he is wearing, and whatever pain might have resulted lessens to a faint dull ache.

(OOC: Lay on Hands for 5. If Jeffrey tries to flinch away, melee touch of [roll0].)

[WrathOfLife]

OOC: Is it really a good idea to be attacking a guy who can drop your character in one round? OOC Edit: Ah, Arnold has reacted, so looks like Reed and Jeffrey will be having some issues.

Jeffrey Williton

The attack caught Jeffrey off-guard and pushed the already crouching man down on to all fours, several small droplets of blood escape his mouth. Pushing himself up in a sudden and violent action. Jeffrey turns to face his attacker. Moving forward to come up to reeds faces, not even noticing Arnolds hand touch him, as he moves past. Eying Reed off less than an inch from his face, Jeffrey speaks in a cold but steady voice.

"That was a bad career move, Mr Reed. Very bad indeed."

Moving away from the man who just attacked him, Jeffrey goes back to where he was, removing a small cloth from his jacket he wipes his blood off the floor with practiced care.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

OOC: In retrospect, he could have tried a light spell, not the magical equivalent to a couple of gunshots. :smalltongue:

[WrathOfLife]

OOC: In retrospect, he could have tried a light spell, not the magical equivalent to a couple of gunshots. :smalltongue:

OOC: Oh well, maybe he'll be able to save Jeffreys life or something to settle the score.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

After the release of the three bolts of... whatever it was and the flash of light, the temperature drops by at least twenty degrees within the building. You get the feeling that something is not right... apart from the corpses, that is.

[The Glyphstone]

Arnold Bernman

Arnold hadn't survived close to twenty years in the force, half of that in SCU, by not listening to his instincts when they screamed at him. A single swift motion ducks his hand underneath his coat, drawing out the government-issue Smith&Wesson .40 semi-automatic pistol from its hidden holster. He keeps it pointed towards the ground for the moment, but says nothing, scanning the room intently.

Spot:[roll0]
Listen:[roll1]

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Seeing Arnold draw his weapon now, after the cop hadn't so much as layed a hand on Reed caused Jeffrey some concern. Reaching into his suit Jeffrey withdraws his long barreled silenced firearm. Unlike Arnold Jeffrey keeps his firearm pointed at the roof as he scans the area.

[roll0]
[roll1]

Keeping his eye's open just like Arnold, Jeffrey moves to grab Norman and keep man low and behind him.

"Mr Thorpe it appears Mr Reed has attracted us some unwanted attention. May I suggest we make our way upstairs?"

[DrakebloodIV]

OOC-

Sorry, he's panicking. I though that would punctuate how nervous he's getting. He'll make nice later. Also, NE??? I think my sheet is messed up, I put in NG, or so I thought. :smallredface: sorry, apparently the gods of MW hate me


As the temperature drops, Reed turns from the other man and peers around like a nervous deer. He sniffs a few times and mutters in gaelic again, he scowls and pulls his gun out from behind his back, thumbing the safety on and off.

"Christ, whatever tha' thing is tha' did this is, Ah think its comin' back"

Spot [roll0]
Listen [roll1]
Casting Detect Magic for as many rounds as possible.

[The Glyphstone]

(OOC: So, did anyone besides Jeffrey ping on the Evil-O-Meter?)

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Seeing the three..."things" strike the man called "Jeffrey", Arcos starts to yank out his Thompson. The sudden drop in temperature, however, stops him from actually aiming it at Reed. Instead, he holds the rare pistol out and pointed to the ground. There is a manic grin to his face.

"Alright, Mr. Reed, you got me, there's magic. Hope it's handy for whatever's coming up, though.

...hey, uh, Jeffrey, was it? You alright man?" As he says this, Arcos tries to fade into whatever shadow is available, scanning the room while doing so.

For the DM's Eyes Only

Gonna do a Spot and Listen check, followed by an attempt to Sneak.

Spot: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]
Sneak: [roll2]


Edit: (OOC: FYI, Arcos is Chaotic Evil.)

[WrathOfLife]

OOC-

Sorry, he's panicking. I though that would punctuate how nervous he's getting. He'll make nice later. Also, NE??? I think my sheet is messed up, I put in NG, or so I thought. :smallredface: sorry, apparently the gods of MW hate me



OOC:
No problem, just be aware he may go for some pay back. I'm having similar issues with MW's removing text or changing it. Very frustrating.

[13_CBS]

OOC:



I'm a little confused, though, as to how Reed saw the unbelief in magic as a cause for violence :smallconfused: Frustration and exasperation, maybe, but it seems a little strange to me how a person would do the magical equivalent of pulling out a gun and shooting someone in the foot just because they weren't Aware.

[DrakebloodIV]

OOC

He thinks that this was caused by an incredibly powerful mage. He is scared and a cocky, ignorant unaware just makes him more tense and angry.

[WrathOfLife]

OOC: we need an OOC thread for this

Jeffrey Williton

Half walking half pushing Norman towards the stairs, Jeffrey responds to the question, "I am well thank you Mr Buss, although I suggest we make our way up stairs. I have a feeling we will be safer once we have seen what we are facing on the camera's"

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The cold is pervasive and persistent but nothing comes out of the dark to attack. Moving up to the bank's archives, you begin playing back the tapes from around the guard's time of death.

You see the guard outside the vault doing his normal security sweeps as the bank is closing. Nothing seems to be wrong at first sight. Another security guard goes up to the archive room and comes down with three pairs of oxygen tanks. He opens the vault as the day ends and the bank's manager is preparing to leave-you recognize the man from the case files-and the pair of vault guards come in, are handed their breathing apparatuses and are sealed within the vault by the other security guard. Since they need the oxygen, the vault must have been airtight.

The second security guard and the manager leave and nothing happens for awhile. Then the image shifts to show the security guard dead, the vault opened and no-one alive in the bank. Someone, it seems, has tampered with the tapes... and the tempering isn't reported in the case file.

[gigz]

Watenabe Ken'ichi

Ken contemplates the video, then files it away for more thought later. He begins looking through the records for personel files, trying to find a way to verify the correct identity with the guards downstairs as well as a possible dress code usually enforced for the security personel.

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman is all too happy to be let away from this... madnes.

While his reason screams at him, the other, calmer voice tells him to let it be. And follow the nice man who wants to avoid trouble. Wise man that.

"Yes, let's. The surveillance tapes need viewing anyway."

After viewing the records, Norman ponders what he saw.

"You know, that doesn't really make sense. You can give people all the oxygene they want, if the level of carbon dioxide rises too high, you still asphyxiate. Or maybe they have something in the vault for that. But what tampered with the tapes... I ned to check some things. I am no expert at electronics, but I have a basic understanding of security technology... "

And so he goes on to check the various cables and whatnot of the system, trying to find evidence of manipulations.

Check for signs of manipulation (Computers): [roll0]

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Seeing that Mr. Thorpe was checking the computers, Arcos saunters over to help.

"Hey, doc, I know a few things about computers. Need a hand?"

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman nods at Arcos, glad to see that some people are interested in cooperation after all.

"We are working on this case together. Your help is appreciated."

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"No prob. Now let's see what we have here..." He twirls his pistol and sticks it back in its holster, and gets to work.

For the DM's Eyes Only


Knowledge: Computers roll
1d20+3.5

[13_CBS]

(OOC: Crap, the roller can't handle decimal points. :smallannoyed:)

For the DM's Eyes Only

Knowledge: Computers roll
[roll0]

[13_CBS]

(OOC: OH COME ON!!! Stupid forum roller. :smallmad:)

For the DM's Eyes Only


Knowledge: Computers roll
[roll0]

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Acros and Norman check the system archives; while the tapes are guarded in a secure mainframe behind a steel door and require a key to open, there appears to be a secondary security system; there's a mini-camera hidden within the automatic fire extinguisher looking over the mainframe's access point. The bank's computer has no file of the camera footage but Acros and Norman uncover an interesting find; the computer is continiously uploading files to the internet. Following the trail, they find the server where the hidden camera footage is being copied and sent to.

It would seem that after the recent unsolved robberies, someone rigged a hidden little security system and kept the footage online instead of within the system. Whoever did that had good cause; watching the footage during the robbery, you see nothing happening. But the images from when the preliminary investigation from normal police is done are far more interesting; one of the investigators came up, unlocked the mainframe and took one of the tapes then replaced it with another...

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"Huh..." Arcos scratches his head at the data."You seeing what I'm seeing, doc? Looks like one of the police investigators messed around with the security tapes."

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman nods gravely.

"Indeed. We should make a copy of that. More then one ideally... you know, as insurance."

Sitting up with a sigh, Norman twiddles his thumbs for a moment, as if thinking about something.

"May I be so blunt as to ask what your.. speciality is? You know about security systems and seem to know about firearms too. Private security contractor?"

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos chuckles a bit. "Not quite, doc. Technically I'm just a firearm mechanic, fixing guns and stuff, and I just really like guns, and I like firing them." He eyes Arnold with a wary glance. "I, uh, picked up security skills on my own. Mostly by surfing the internet in my free time, stuff like that.

...so, what about you? Private Investigator, like Magnum P.I.? "

[DrakebloodIV]

(OOC- Can I get the results of the Detect Magic I cast, I maintained it while looking around the room and when I walked up to the video room with the others)

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Keeping his firearm out and ready, even as others put there's away, Jeffrey watch's the screen over Arcos' shoulder.

"Mr Bernman, do you know this man?"

[The Glyphstone]

It takes a moment for Arnold to respond. "If you're going to address me, it's Sgt. Bernman, or 'Officer'. As for your question, I Doubt it - it's been years since I did any work alongside the regulars. SCU hasn't gotten their crack at this site yet, so it's not one of our boys."

All the same, he takes a hard look at the screen, trying to catch a glimpse of the suspicious officer's face and identify him.

[DrakebloodIV]

"Officah, if I may yer bein a bit rude 'bout yah title. I sencerely doubt 'at 'im not callin ya sir is gonna make much of ah difference in tha case"

[Belial_the_Leveler]

While none of you know the detective, it should not be hard to check what station sent men here who was at the scene for the preliminary investigation-provided you have either access to police information or very good connections. With the video now copied in one of the spare removable disks of the archives, this would be the best lead you had since the investigation begun.

Meanwhile, Reed and Arnold uncover information in less conventional ways; Reed realizes the bank is full of magical auras; there are faint but pervasive traces of necromancy and transmutation covering the entire area that may account for the dead plant. There is a powerful necromantic presence around the two dead guards in the vault and a slightly smaller one in the archives. More interesting are the transmutation auras concentrated in both the oxygen vials and the dead guard outside as well as the air vents right above the archives. Most interesting of all, there is a series of auras of blinding intensity in tightly packed concentric circles around one of the storage compartments within the vault; the circles alternate between abjuration and conjuration and, through Reed can't be sure, must once have formed seven layers-and that is frightening; despite their current intensity, the auras are only remains of broken enchantments.

Arnold senses an aura of evil polluting the air. It clings to the three corpses as if what killed them infected them with a tiny piece of its presence but it also gathers around the archives as if whatever evil robbed the bank paused there for a time. But as Arnold turns his gaze deeper into the vault, he gags, takes a couple steps back and almost vomits; there is a vile presence of such terrifying intensity emanating from one of the storage compartments that Arnold could swear some supernatural evil stood before him. The compartment though is empty. And while the aura must once have been tightly packed to fit inside, it is now slowly seeping to the rest of the vault's interior.

[The Glyphstone]

'I have no doubt you are correct, Mr. Reed, nor do I expect him to comply with any sincerity. All the same, it is necessary as a reminder of who he is dealing with - I arrest criminals, not fraternize with them. The fact that circumstances mean Mr. "Wilton", if that is his alias of the week, an asset instead of an antagonist make no difference to that attitude."

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe


Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

...so, what about you? Private Investigator, like Magnum P.I.? "[/COLOR]

Norman chuckles a bit before answering Reed's question.

"Far from it. I just work for Abercomby Stilton and Partners as a claims adjuster. A job usually done from the comfort and safety of my desk. Of course, we have to make sure that every claim we process is carefully examined to make sure it is valid. We have to protect our honest clients from any fraudulent claims. Because every dollar we pay out first has to be paid by our clients via their premiums. And therefore they expect that we only pay out money to those who have a valid claim."

"Coming to think of it, our work sometimes has a bit of the air of a P.I.. Except that we work for the company of course. But yes... there were some cases where we had to did really deep to prove foul play. Like this one appears to turn out to be."

Norman notes, to his dismay, that the crazy person is now also present in the room. He decides not to show it though. Doesn't do to aggravate the lunatic.

Lycar

[DrakebloodIV]

"Ah, there's a lotta transmutashun an necrahmancy just hangin' round heah. Ah fink dat;s wha killed dat plant. Tha guard's r all shot up wit necrahmancy, Ah wouldn' doubt 'at whatevah did dis mightah reanimated 'em. Eitha tha' r they jus' shot 'em up wit' enough negahtive enahgy tah rot 'em out from da inside out. If ah could ask, officah, a full autopsy would be great. There's some necrahmancy in da archives, but ah can't place why dat would be there. Thar is some transmutation sittin 'round tha vents, I fink 'at might be why tha' mist is 'round 'ere, mighta been poisoned ta kill this guy out 'ere. The guard 'as some transmutation round 'im too. I fink 'at 'e mighta been shapeshifted ta break inta tha vault, then poisn'd when 'e wasn' useful. Tha most importan' fing is tha vault tho. One a those storage compartments 'ad a powahful magic item in it bafore. Maybe even an ahtifact. Seven rings ah 'nchantments, abjuration an conjahration. Sah someone was summonin sumfin powahful an keep it in dat vault."

[The Glyphstone]

"Not just powerful, but powerfully evil. That compartment seethes with more vile energies, more than I've ever seen contained in one place in my life. Something was being imprisoned here, and it either broke loose or was released."

Stepping off to one side, both to recover and for privacy, he retrieves a cell phone from one pocket and dials the office."Morty? It's Arnold...I'm at the latest bank scene, and it's a doozy. I want...yes that sort of doozy...yes, I've been using my "mojo", and whatever happened here's bigger than every other bank combined. I'll call you again when I leave, and I want a containment team brought in to seal off everything. There's at least one body that needs an autopsy, and I want it done in-house, not upstairs - put Jerry on it, and have Pat helping him out Oh, and dig out the blue folder in the top drawer of my desk, copy down every phone number that has a black 'N' next to it. This might be a breakthrough, and I don't want any interference from outside - for example, the sort of interference that makes bodies disappear before they're examined....fine."

With a click, he closes the phone and rejoins the group.
"We've got an hour till SCU shows up and locks down the building, so anything else you...people...want to do, now's the time."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

As soon as Arnold puts down the phone, you hear the door downstairs swinging open.
How very convenient. A nasal, foregn voice says from downstairs. This saves us the trouble of dropping in an anonymous tip so every other little rat sniffing into our affairs can know what awaits them. Now come down, will you? You do not know how hard it is to get an after-dark appointment with a manicurist; I have no intention of missing it because you're being difficult.
The voice is definitely a woman's and from the tone you believe she must be chinese. A chinese woman turning up here is not that far-fetched. After all, you aren't far from San Francisco's chinatown and a great deal of gang activity does happen there. But for any hitman to know where you are and what you're doing... The operation was supposed to be a secret, with only the higher-ups in both police and the Mob knowing about it.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Moving a finger to his lips, Jeffrey points his gun at the door, while grabbing Norman's shoulder and pushing him back towards the security monitors.

Jeffrey then points to the screen then to down stairs hoping that Norman remembers about the camera's down stairs.

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Upon hearing the voice downstairs, Arcos whips out his Thompson and flicks the safety off, pointing it down at the ground. He moves up to Jeffrey and taps him on the shoulder, trying to get his attention. Arcos points to himself, then downstairs, trying to communicate that he wants to scout out what's going on.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The camera feeds are close enough to check at a glance as you stand in the archive room. While they are still working, you can't actually see anyone downstairs through them...

[The Glyphstone]

Arnold flicks off the safety on his pistol, holding it in one hand as he pulls a lightweight steel baton from under his coat and holds it in the other hand, taking up a position beside the doorframe leading downstairs.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Seeing Arcos motion Jeffrey nods, but then points to Arcos, and the door, then himself Arcos back.

Jeffrey enters a low crouch, and would have flicked the safety off on his firearm, expect of course he didn't have a safety switch, and then follows the man down the stairs seeking to remaining hidden. Jeffrey will keep a good 15 feet between him and Arcos.

[roll0]

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos nods in reply and leads the way, moving silently and Thompson out. He motions for the rest of the group to stay back.

For the DM's Eyes Only


Sneak roll
[roll0]

[The Glyphstone]

Letting training override instinct for the moment, Arnold moves to cover the other two, sheathing his baton and holding his pistol two-handed. Staying at the top of the stairs as they move down, he peers around the corner and waits for a target.

Stealth check to remain hidden:[roll0]

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Two individuals are downstairs, so unlike eachother the difference hits you as odd;
The man is a caucasian blond well over six feet tall and with the physique of a bodybuilder. He's wearing a black leather jacket a few sizes too small-it won't even close over his chest-and dirty, frayed jeans sporting many a hole and several layers of grime. He has eschewed socks and his sneakers are old and worn. All over him hang several thin chains in gold and silver-obviously fake. He's whistling idly and swinging a baseball bat as he waits for his companion to finish.
Said companion is a petite chinese doll barely five feet tall and as slim and graceful as an acrobat. Dressed from chin to toe in form-fitting silk and spandex that matches the black of her eyes and hair, she is standing absolutely still and silent, only her ever-shifting eyes taking in the room. She appears to be unarmed but she radiates danger and her stance indicates serious knowledge of martial arts.

As you descend the stairs, she locks stares with you, picking you out of the gloom of the once-empty bank, and smiles.
Do come down gentlemen. We have some things to discuss, you and I.
The hulking man at her side squints then scratches his head.
We be killing them now Ming? he asks in a slow Texan drawl.
Shut up. the woman hisses from the corner of her mouth and says nothing more.

[DrakebloodIV]

Reed strides slowly and confidently toward the vault. He unslings his gun from his shoulder as he walks and begins humming a gaelic hymn.
"Eitlíonn tú cruinn"
He enters the vault and greets the large man and strange woman with a nod.
"Might ah ask what yer doin here or should ah jus' shoot yah?"

-OOC
True Strike cast on my gun, went down into the vault.

V- No, it last until the end of next round, and I expect to be shooting by then (http://www.d20srd.org/srd/spells/trueStrike.htm)

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Seeing the situation unfold, Jeffrey had a sudden feeling that they just lost there chance at an ambush. Most pleasingly when Mr Reed decided to be the first to die. Taking a couple of steps back up the stair case, Jeffrey mouths to the police officer behind him very carefully so as to not be seen by those below.

'Please find a back exit' Then with a rather satisfied smile adds 'Mr Bernman.' Before turning back to watch what happens down stairs from the relative safety of the stair case.

OOC: Waste of a spell, it only lasts one round.

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman just does his best to stay out of the way of what seems to become a firefight in short order.

Lycar

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The petite chinese woman laughs at Reed.
Go ahead. Shoot. Let's see what good it will do you.

[DrakebloodIV]

"Tell tha bigun tah lie down ahn 'is chest 'f 'e wants tah walk again"

[Belial_the_Leveler]

[will wait reactions from others before upodating]

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Unsure as to what to do, Arcos glances over to Jeffrey, awaiting orders.

[The Glyphstone]

Not at all adverse to seeing the scum get themselves killed, Arnold obligingly stops providing cover for the other gunmen and goes to examine the second-floor windows for the fire escape.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Rather pleased to see Reed risking his neck for no apparent reason Jeffrey politely tips his hat to the people down stairs and makes his way back up stairs with Mr Bernman, to look for an alternative exit that doesn't include going down in a blaze of glory.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

No negotiations then? the chinese woman says. Ah well. It was fun while it lasted.

And with an impressive display of athleticism, she jumps across the room and over the staircase-well over thirty feet-and stands in the way of both Arnold and Jeffrey.

Meanwhile, in an equally stunning display of stupidity, her companion roars a challenge towards Reed and raises his club on a two-handed grip overhead...



high ability + racial skill bonus = huge jumps.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

"Duck"

That was all the warning Arnold got as Jeffrey lowers his impressive firearm to bare on the young women. Squeezing the trigger with a controlled and practice easy, Jeffrey shoots a quick burst of 5 rounds with a deadly show of force.

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]
[roll9]
(+1 to all rolls from point blank shot if woman is with in 30 feet, 50% chance to hit Arnold if the man doesn't duck)

After the quick blast of bullets, Jeffrey can be heard muttering "Forgive me, my dear"

[WrathOfLife]

OOC: Ops and of course
[roll0]

[The Glyphstone]

Init:[roll0]

Arnold flings himself to one side as the woman flies over his head, drawing a bead on her as she lands. Still on the ground, he fires a text-book perfect shot pattern - two center mass, one to the head - before clambering to his feet and backing away.

I have a nasty feeling our guns will do nothing, but here's rolls.


(Belial, can I please have an up or down on Natural Bond? I've still got that empty feat slot open.)

[The Glyphstone]

[roll0], [roll1]
[roll2], [roll3]
[roll4], [roll5]

Oh yeah, add +1 to all of those rolls from Point Blank Shot.

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Entusiast

Arcos gapes in awe for a moment as he sees the small lady leap up the staircase, but he quickly recovers his senses. A mad grin stretches across his features.

"HA HA HA! It's go time! Ha ha!"


Initiative roll:

[roll0]


Arcos will move upstairs and try to get a clear shot at the leaping Chinese woman, getting within 30 feet of her to maximize accuracy.

Attack roll:
[roll1] (BAB for ranged weapons is +7, +1 for masterwork weapon, +1 for Point Blank Shot)

In case of critical, critical confirmation:

[roll2]

Damage:
[roll3]


(OOC: Can we have a battle map if possible?)

[13_CBS]

(OOC: Woo hoo! Possible critical hit! :smallamused:)

[DrakebloodIV]

"Eat lead ya fukin oaf!"

With a hideous krakoom the aging sniper rifle in Reeds hand retorts, hurling a bead of lead with insane force. A scream like a banshee permiates the air and a green light flies with the bullet into the man.

OOC
Attack roll [roll0]
Initiative [roll1]
Damage for the obvious hit [roll2]

[DrakebloodIV]

OOC

Crit confirm [roll0]

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The petite woman dodges-if not nearly as fast as the Agents in the Matrix movies then still fast enough; half of Jeffrey's shots and all but one of Arnold's miss. Those that do hit make a dull thud as if they've hit a bulletproof vest and barely penetrate, the twisted metal of the bullets still half-visible in the only skin-deep wounds.
Acros' aim is true as he empties his gun between the woman's eyes. An inch-wide hole in the forehead would drop any human instantly but the woman hisses in rage, obviously still alive. In the half-light of the bank you cannot be sure but you think her teeth are pointed.
At the other side of the room, Reed's sniper rifle roars and a fist-sized hole appears where the brute's heart should have been. That makes the big man pause in his charge and stare stupidly but not for long.

The chinese girl dashes forward and strikes Arnold once in the throat, fingers extended in a martial-arts strike. The force of the blow is about what one would expect from someone her size but speed and precision make up the difference; Arnold gags and begins to slip down the stairs...

The huge man downstairs charges at Reed despite the hole in his chest, a single blow from his club throwing the smaller sniper a dozen feet back. The force of the strike is well beyond what a human of even his size could manage; it feels like being hit by a car...


Arnold takes 6 points of lethal damage and must make a fortitude save DC 19 or be stunned.
Reed takes 10 points of lethal and 10 points of nonlethal damage.

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos looks utterly fascinated as the woman takes a head shot but seems perfectly fine. "Oh man, I gotta study her, I gotta..."

Meanwhile, he heads towards cover and aims another shot.


Arcos will move in order to put any large object between him and the Chinese woman (a desk, etc), then attack.

Attack roll:
[roll0]

Damage roll:
[roll1]

In case of criticals, Critical Confirmation:
[roll2]


(OOC: As a side note, it looks like the lady's AC is 19 or 20.)

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Frowning as the woman dodges his bullets like something out of a movie, Jeffrey fires another volley of shots at the woman. "You've got some skill..."

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]
[roll9]

[WrathOfLife]

Crit confirmation
[roll0]

[The Glyphstone]

Fort:

Arnold coughs, but recovers almost instantly. Pulling out his weighted baton once more, he swings it down at the petite woman's head as he barks a phase in Latin - "Licentia, malum abominor! Begone from this place, you foul hellspawn!" At his words, the cross necklace he wears flares with a short pulse of light, matching a sudden aura that surrounds his weapon as he swings.

Smite Evil attempt: [roll]1d20+10 for 1d6+5 - I also have the 5 points of Lay on Hands that didn't get used up earlier, which I'm dumping into this.

[The Glyphstone]

[roll0]. [roll1]+5. total of 16 damage - 7 from the baton, 4 from the Smite, 5 from Lay on Hands.

[DrakebloodIV]

"cláiríneach" Reed snaps as he backs away, shooting a black beam toward the giant, upon contact it bursts into a cloud of black smoke "Guys, ah fink 's a good ideah ta try an' nagotiate wit' dese guys. We're really outgunned."

ooc

Ranged touch attack
[roll0]
Str damage
[roll1]

Also, how did he shrug of a confirmed crit on a gun? That was, like, 57 damage. He should be making a Fort save vs. massive damage if he can even shrug that much off. This guy is a freakin juggernaught!

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman has the sinking feeling that this is not... normal...

Still, trapped up here in the surveillance room, his options are pretty limited. But then again, maybe that extra camera recording off-site...

Reaching the conclusion that he might actually die up here and that he probably can not do much about that, Norman decides to try to do what he can do: Get as much of what heppens here on the off-site records.

Those that one from the bank staff or police can not simply make 'disappear'.

Merryly hacking away at the keyboard while the lead flies: Computers [roll0]

Lycar

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Jeffrey has worse luck this time; only one of his shots finds its mark. Acros however manages to open another hole in the woman's kneecap and the petite chinese girl staggers for a moment; enough for Arnold to smash the steel baton right in her face. There's a burst of light and Arnold's blow not only smashes in the woman's teeth, as it would do on a normal person; it burns away her flesh on contact.

With a hideous screech, the woman collapses into a thick, foul-smelling cloud of mist that coalesces and glides towards the ventillation shaft over the archives, leaving the walls and furniture damp from the condensation.

Down in the vault, Reed calls upon his own magic but fumbles with the shot as he's still on his back. Still, the raging brute does not bother to dodge at all and the ray strikes true.
Seeing his mistress forced to escape, the huge man loses it and flies into a shrieking rage. Dropping his club, he runs up to Acros and physically lifts the man up by the legs like the gunman is no heavier than a kitten then swings him into Arnold with a cry of fury and a terrible strength. Acros smashes into Arnold with enough force to crack bones and leave one hell of a bruise later...


11 damage to Acros, 9 damage to Arnold

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

With a smile Jeffrey regards the young Chinese woman as she falls to the ground then with a very ungentlemanly curse watches as she turns to dust before his eyes and apparently float away. Turning to face Reed, Jeffrey snarls at him "What the hell was that?" It was then that Jeffrey noticed the rather large man changing towards his general direction. Lowering his pistol Jeffrey lets out another volley,

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]
[roll7]
[roll8]
[roll9]

OOC: I'll reload next round, I assume the Glock carries 17 bullets as per RL? Is firing 5 rounds a full round or a standard?

[WrathOfLife]

Triple Threat!

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

Edit: Lame, forum post timer stopped the rolls.

[WrathOfLife]

Triple Threat! (again)

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"What the hell..." Arcos watches, mouth agape, as the woman crumbles into dust, which may explain why he got grabbed by the raging brute and tossed around. He winces as he feels his skull crack against Arnold's. Shrugging off the pain, he moves for a clear shot and tosses in a special bullet, handy for that extra "oomph", and takes aim...



Move ten feet out of Arnold's way, but someplace out of reach from the brute. Attack the brute.

Attack roll
[roll0]

Critical confirmation
[roll1]

Damage roll
[roll2] regular, [roll3] fire

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman still can only watch the things happening... especially the petite woman turn into mist. And float away...

('O, that this too too solid flesh would melt,
Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew.' So Shakespeare was right after all,

'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy'.)

While the reasonable part of his mind seems to be indecided between going into shock or a self-righteous rage at these open violations of the scientific laws, his intuitive part cautions...

(So... common knowledge tells us, this can not possibly be happening. But it is. Therefore, common knowledge must be wrong then.

But people not turning up on cameras violates so many of natures laws? Ah, but science is just the art of trying to figure out just how natures laws do really work, isn't it. So, if this is happening, there must be natural laws for it. We just have not discovered them yet. Or maybe natural laws are just what happens unless someone else deigns to do something about them.

Didn't this one guy call himzelf a wizard? I thought he meant an ace computer programmer... might be he meant it quite literally after all.)

Lycar

[WillWolf]

Donnie, the Thug:

Oddly enough after the woman turned into mist and went through the ventilation shaft; there was a yell. It wasn't a particularly girl-ish yell, but the yell of a terrified man, gruff, but not exactly scary. And then the ventilation door kicked open and out tumbled a very annoyed man. He stood a hair under six feet tall and was dressed remarkably like the sweaty blonde guy with the club, except of course that he had greasy black hair rather than the ratty blonde hair.

Without saying anything, or doing anything, he ran up and attempted to stab the man with the club with his dagger; however, it was suddenly very obvious that the man was deeply, deeply pissed off at the blonde man.



Iniative: [roll0]
Rage at begining of my turn.
Free action: whilst running pull out dagger.
Move action ... go to blonde man.
Action: attack with knife. [roll1].

Damage: [roll2]

[The Glyphstone]

Grunting as Arcos slams into him, Arnold staggers backwards, dropping his baton and leveling his sidearm for another three-round burst into the hulking brute.

[roll0], [roll1]
[roll2], [roll3]
[roll4], [roll5]

Not bothering to confirm any crits.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

This time Jeffrey's aim is true; most of his shots find the target and open up holes in the big man's torso.
Acros adds to the damage with a shot that echoes hollowly then bursts with a fairly loud boom when it hits.

While Reed is still a bit disoriented from the brute's latest blow downstairs, Arnold and another man with a knife launch themselves at their opponent. The knife flashes once and, while it hits, the deep cut barely seems to slow the man down. Arnold falls back to his trusty revolver and with that many people shooting at the brute from all sides in a tight corridor, it is not that hard to hit.

The brutish man growls and seems to waver; his body is full of bullet-holes now and while he does not bleed more than a corpse whose blood has dried out, that many wounds must be both painful (if he even can feel pain) and debilitating. In another tremendous display of strength, the man smashes aside the human with the knife, knocking aside this latest helper that mysteriously appeared from within the ventilation shafts. And then something truly weird and terrifying happens-moreso than every other event so far that night;


You all feel an unseen presence in the room, as if the very air has turned heavy and thick like syrup. An unnatural silence falls, clearing your ears from the ringing of so many shots in so short a time for a booming voice to fill them.
You have been a naughty child, my brother's spawn. Fighting out in the open, in my city? That will simply not do. Here, let me rearrange things to match what they should have been.
The brute looks around wildly, not seeing any obvious source for the powerful voice then snarls and turns back to attack you. And then his own shadow seems to flow, a caricature of his own hands materializing around his neck. The shadow-hands twist and pull, with a single, fluid motion severing the thug's head. The thug stares out of bulging eyes stupidly for a few seconds then both body and head disintegrate into fine ash.
As for you, children of my Father, some of you have been naughty as well. But for tonight, you have performed... adequately. Make sure you continue to do so in the future.
And with that the presence seems to vanish, the air again becoming breathable after the few seconds you felt about to suffocate. Your hearts are pounding in your chests, a surge of inexplicable dread having shaken you to your souls...

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos is the first to respond, speaking on behalf of many of those present.

"What the **** was that all about?"

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

"My thoughts exactly. Would anyone care to explain how people don't show up on TV monitors and turn to fog or dust after absorbing enough ordonance to sink a destroyer?"

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"Or, uh, that voice and all that. That was kinda weird."

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Jeffrey's world was going from a simple game of cat and mouse to a complex drama more fitting of a fantasy movie. It was in fact Hollywood that helped keep Jeffrey from simply shooting everyone in the room and walking away from all this. Once you encounter something strange, that strangeness never leaves you alone.

Ignoring everyone else's comments Jeffrey goes back to what he knows, putting his firearm back in its hostler, he kneels down and begins to pick up empty casings.

"The way I see it, there are three main things." Jeffrey begins looking up at the man with the knife.

"Number one, who are you and what are you doing here? Number two, who were those people, and why didn't they die like everyone else? Number three, We need to leave here as fast as possible. People know we're here, they would have heard the gun fire" Jeffrey looks pointedly at the others without silencers "And that voice, whatever it was, clearly knows we are here. When some one knows where you are, they can kill you and frankly I'd rather not be here when they decide to come find us."

[DrakebloodIV]

Reed lights up another cigarette, seeing as his last had been dropped during the fight.

"Well tha secon' one seems obvious ta me, but tha's probly cuz' 's my area of expertize. Those things were some sorta magically sustained being. Fey, undead, demons, some types ah angels, all these an' more are immune tah most types of traditional harm, up to a point. My bet is tha' whatevah made tha' voice either summoned those creachahs, or knows real well how tah kill 'em"

Reed begins murmuring in gaelic again, focusing on the two piles of ashes.

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman take soff his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose before he speaks.

"Of course people knwo we are here. We are the special investigators, remember? And our real problem will be to explain why shots were fired when there is absolutely nothing here that warrants this kind of action. Because assailants usually don't turn into mist or dust."

Putting his glasses on again, he turns to Reed and asks: "You refered to yourself as a... 'magican' earlier. So you... run into this stuff often?"

Lycar

[WillWolf]

Donnie:

Donnie, who suddenly looks less ferocious, just kind of shrugs and then spits. "I'm Donnie ... " he gave him a dirty look, "and I've been contracted to 'help' with you good folks, but" he shrugs, "I don't exactly, erm, I thought it was a trap and so I followed you guys to make sure you were legit."

And he stands up from his tossed town position, "And so I tried to do the whole super sleuth thing. Didn't work too well..." He shrugged.

[DrakebloodIV]

"Believe me, ya hav no ideah how many people around you actually wield magic of some sor'. Ah'v done sum estahmates an' as far 's I can tell tha odds of bein' magically capable 'r about one'n ten. Wit' tha odds of being proficient 'r even less an magical heritage increasing the odds greatly. Ah know a girl downtown who works tha morgue. She's a cleric, specializes in dead 'n undead fings. Ah'll giv'er a call. Reed whips a dark green cell phone and speed dials 3 "Yeah... Can you connect me wit' Gwen?... Ah don' care f' she's doin' an autopsy, this's m'portant. Tell 'er 's Reed, say tha bank job turned up somefin hot, very hot... Hey Gwen, thanks for pickin up... No, not just some small scale charms, serious ****. Some ****ed up stuffs goin down, two hostiles, bulletproof for some reason, video all altered, some giant voice. We'll get you a full case report when ya get here. We're gonna need some autopsies, an' not the normal kind."



Gwen is a cleric, I think she should be able to cast speak with dead. Whatever level you want her to be.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The fight has left the bank a far worse mess than in was; there is new blood-if you can call the black, foul-smelling liquid the chinese woman messed the halls with blood-and several dozen bullet holes all over plus a twenty-pound pile of dust under, over and within the clothing of the now-vanished thug you fought.
As you check the videos again though, the feed shows only you shooting into thin air-or not. The way you were clustered in the stairs in the half-darkness, it seems like you were shooting at eachother but missing, an impression intensified by the obvious tension between some members of the group. There is no trace whatsoever of your enemies, their deaths or that creepy voice except for the sudden appearance of the dust and the droplets of black blood-an event mostly covered by the flashes of your guns and the falling plaster and scraped paint from the bullet holes...

It occurs to you that mr Norman Thorpe is right; if the authorities were to see that video or catch you at the scene, your investigation would be at an end and you would be locked up for a list of charges longer than some of you are tall...

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Finishing picking up all of the spent casings around the room. Jeffrey moves to speak to Norman.

"Mr Thorpe, I fear I must ask you to destroy any evidence we were here. Including the security footage. If you can take some of the evidence with us, all the better. But our presence here, must not be known."

With that Jeffrey moves to speak to Arcos and Bernman

"We will need fast and district transport. Mr Buss, would it be too much to ask for you to arrange this? Mr Bernman, would you be able to find out if the police are responding to the noise?"

Moving to face the new comer,
"Mr .... Donnie. I would like you to collect the remains of our enemies. All of it. There should be a few money bags around here that will do. Some one, some where, must know what it is."

With that Jeffrey moves to stand in front of Reed. He doesn't say anything at first. Frankly he didn't trust Reed with anything, not even the clean up.

"Next time you feel like acting like a thug. You will be on your own. Am I understood?"

[WillWolf]

Donnie:

"Just call me Donnie," he said and then began to follow the orders by picking up the remains/sweeping/generally finding somehow to get the ghastly remains of the into several money bags; dumping the contents out before carrying on with the removal of the man in question.

He grunted, lifted, and generally got everything he needed in order to follow through undead cleaning crew.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton


As a hindsight thought, Jeffrey calls out to Donnie,

"Remember to keep samples of everything. A couple of samples of everything, just in case we need to hand over some for something."

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman pauses a moment to remove his glasses and rub the bridge of his nose again. It seems to be a habit.

"Look Mr... Willington was it? People already know we are here because we have explicitly been asked to investigate this scene. Also, covering up the... traces of our presence here would require more then just taking the tape with the camera footage with us. Some plaster and paint, for example. And more time then we have."

"Also it would seem prudent to recover all spent cartridges. And cigarettes for that matter..." Norman adds with a look at Mr. Reed.

"But apart from that, yes, vacating the premise appeals to me."

As an afterthought, Norman produces a tissue from his coat and wipes down the keyboard. Fortunately, he didn't leave fingerprints earlier, as he was wearing latex gloves while checking the scene for evidence.

While his rational part feels somewhat silly for doing so, his intuitive part cautions to keep plausible deniability. It also cautions not to antagonize the wild man with the knife who suddenly burst from the ventilation shafts.

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos flips open his cell phone, but before he calls...

"Hey Doc? Even if we clean up the mess, wouldn't the feds know we were involved anyway? We're supposed to be the only ones here, right? Anyhow..." He starts dialing his phone...

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Jeffrey smiles as he looks around the room, it was the kind of smile that a man gives a small retarded child as he tries to explain to him that his puppy has gone to doggy heaven.

"They know we are supposed to be here. Some one else now knows some one was here. They tried to kill us. Do you want them to know what you look like? Know where you live? Know what kind of weapons you use? Know where your family lives? Do you want to be killed in your sleep? no, You don't."

Jeffrey looks around the room at those who had being questioning him. "Even if we manage to kill the people who set us up here, what do we do after that? The police will want to know why we shot up this place. Do any of you think that our story of people disappearing will convince them of anything except our lack of sanity?"

Jeffrey walks over to Norman "Do you think your company will keep you after the police detain you for finding out you were in a fire fight with murderers? Or perhaps they will arrest you for your actions on that little computer?"

He then moves to Arcos "Is your name so clean that you would like your face, shoe size, and firearm to be common knowledge? You think they'll let us walk after this? We just discharged our firearms in a public place with out cause. We'll spend long enough in jail for them to find something else on us."

With that he moves to Sgt Bernman "You worked with criminals. Association isn't a crime. But discharging your firearm without cause is. That on top of your association with the likes of... me, you won't be welcomed back to the office any time soon."

Jeffrey moves back to address them all. "We all have reasons for being here. Mine is to make sure you all stay alive long enough to find out whats going on. After that its not my problem, however, remember that you will have to answer for every action. My way is clean, its safe. Are you willing to risk doing others?"

Jeffrey looks around the room before adding "Judged by 12 or carried by 6. Personally, I'd rather count on my 9."

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos shrugs. "Eh, just saying, Doc's right, we can't cover up the bullet holes and all that stuff. Definitely got my vote for getting the hell outta here, though. Your call, I guess.

I'll see what I can do about getting a ride. Gimme a sec..." He finishes dialing the cell number.

"Hey, Joe? Ya, I'm in San Francisco right now, on a job. Listen, I need a ride for, uh..." he pauses to count the number of people in the room, "...six? people. Wait..." he lowers the phone for a moment and asks Jeffrey, "Hey, are we taking them along?" He waves a hand towards Reed and the thug who apparently burst out of the ventilation shaft with a knife (Arcos seems curiously calm about this).

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

In response to Arcos' comments about bullet holes Jeffrey shrugs "I'd rather if they had to guess at what happened rather than know. We might be able to manipulate events to our advantage that way."

Glancing across at the two Acros indicates Jeffrey considers for a few moments. "Yes, I suppose we should. For at least one way. See if you can get a car with a large trunk space though, just in case."

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos nods. "Hey, Joe? Sorry about that. Okay, I need a ride that can seat six or seven people, and has a big trunk. Maybe a van? No? Okay, what else you got? Okay, o--what?! A beetle? You've gotta ****ing me! I have, like, six guys I need to move around and--you--oh, yeah, real funny man, real funny. Yeah, a van. Big van. But low key, we gotta move. Yeah. Yeah. No, you still owe me. Yeah. No. No. 'Kay. Bye." He closes the phone.

"Eight-seater van coming right up."

[The Glyphstone]

'You're going to have to do better than that, Mr. "Wilson". You're forgetting exactly which office I'm coming from - perps collapsing into piles of dust is not the weirdest thing SCU has had to handle before. Whether the racket we made has any after-effects will depend on if my men get here before whatever beat suits got the ten-ten call. Once we're out of the way, they'll clean up whatever we leave behind, and keep the regulars from interfering. You've got friends in high places, and they've made it clear that certain police officials'... supplementary incomes...will depend on solving this case. As long as Mr. Arcos can come through with his transportation, there won't be any unpleasant paperwork to slow us down."

Just to be safe, he turns on the police scan radio in his pocket, tucking the earpiece into one ear and listening on the general frequency to see if any patrol units are responding to a 10-10 Possible Shots Fired at the bank they are currently in, and if their ETA will outstrip the containment team inbound from SCU.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

As you finish cleanup, you hear the slow purr of a big but old engine coming from outside; the van has arrived, unusually fast even for San Francisco's light midnight traffic.

At almost the same time, a foot-wide sphere of fog appears with a hiss at the center of the bank, letters glowing an eerie red gleaming at its heart. The letters are three, and identical: three big "X' symbols written in neon red. As soon as you notice the sphere's appearance though, the third symbol blurs and shifts into another array of letters and the glowing XXX within the sphere becomes XXIX... and the spere seems a hair smaller, a hair brighter. And even as you keep watching, the symbols continue to change as the sphere is getting smaller and begins to glow;
XXVIII
XXVII
XXVI

[DrakebloodIV]

"I fink tha's a timee"

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman turns to see what the commotion is about. When he spots the strange, glowing apparition, it takes him a moment to make sense of it.

Now he is just happy he took latin in school.

"Indeed. This would be roman numerals. Counting down from 30. We should hurry."

And so Norman does. Hurry to make for the exit that is.

(Okay so this is all magical. But what kind of deranged mind mixes modern era time-bomb counters with ancient roman numerals?)

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"Sweet, a bomb.

...wait, it's right in front of us, right? Crap.

But on the bright side, our ride's here, and cleaning up won't be our job! Nowletsgetoutofherereallyfast--" and so he dashes off after Norman, gun drawn and loaded, but with the safety on.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Glancing around making sure everyone has made it out, and making sure Donnie remembers to bring some of the remains with him. Jeffrey is the last to leave. Walking in a calm brisk pace, he hops in the passenger side front seat. Turning to face the driver, he states "Head for the morgue downtown."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

XXII
XXI
XX

The sphere keeps counting down as you frantically collect any needful items and you make sure you remember at what address the external video archive was located.

XVIII
XVII
XVI

You take samples of the dust the hulking "man" left behind and collect his clothing and wallet and, just in case they are needed, collect valuables from the bank security and the vault guards.

X
IX
VIII

With only seconds to spare, you all run for the side door of the bank and the old, grey, nondescript van awaiting there. In the bank building behind you there is a flash like red lightning and a subsonic boom you feel in your bones as red-white flames draw in copious amounts of air while everything flammable within them is burned down to ashes. The wave of heat is almost soundless-at least at those frequencies normally perceptible by human ears-but the temperature is high enough for the barred bank windows to melt into red-hot puddles in the ground. The surface of the inside walls sags down like thick honey and the ceiling drips like some hellish rain but the flames themselves have perished just as fast as they ignited; the explosion was clean, contained, near-instantaneous and brutally effective.

For a moment you wonder whether any previous investigators met their end in such a bomb; the files you've access to list more than half of them as missing and being vaporised by a blast hot enough to cook concrete definitely counts as such...

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

"Oh..." is the only thing that Norman has to say about that display of brutal disregard for the laws of nature. Well, the supposed laws of nature anyway.

He scrambles for the van, quite happy to get away from this madness.

(... saves the cost for cremation, I suppose...)

"What I really want to know: How do they manage to keep this **** secret? Seriously, people ought to be all over this. What gives?"

Lycar

[The Glyphstone]

"That's easy enough to answer. Look at how hard it was for you and some of the other people in this van to accept the existence of the unnatural. The human mind is a funny thing - it likes normality, and will go to incredible lengths to convince itself something is normal despite all evidence to the contrary. People don't like admitting the existence of things they don't or can't understand, things that scare them, things they can't control."

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos watches the curious fireworks.

"Ooh, pretty."

He opens up the van door and hails the driver. "Hey Joe, what's up? Thanks for getting here so fast.

Oh, uh, they're the peeps I said were gonna need a ride. Boss put me on some weird case, you see, and I'm supposed to work with 'em. That means you get to be chauffer. Again."

He flings open the van doors and makes a mocking, sweeping gesture. "Ladies and Gentlemen--well, I guess just Gentlemen--welcome aboard the Joemobile!

...

I call shotgun."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Acros opens the van's door to greet his friend... and is surprised to see a familiar redhead girl at the driver's seat.
Took you long enough. The girl says with an air of impatience. A couple more seconds and you'd have been victims of the cleanup procedure. Do you realise how much paperwork that would have created?
Acros' friend is nowhere to be seen-though the van is his as far as Acros can remember...

[WillWolf]

Donnie:

"Soo umm where to next?" Donnie kind of mumbles and looks otherwise rather confused. "I mean ... we got other stuff to look into, right?"

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos stares at the lady in the car. His hand is at his holster, reaching for the gun.

"Okay, who the **** are you, lady, and where's Joe?"

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The girl tsks quite audibly.
I suppose a fight for one's life could blur one's memory of previous events... assuming one's mind was sound in the first place. You really don't remember seeing me here before? As I recall you were quite interested in my weaponry.
Here the girl looks down at her tight-fitting, scoop-necked red blouse and smiles before looking back at Acros.
My other weaponry, that is.

[Lycar]

Norman Thorpe

Norman feels like saying something about the delay in the getting away but bites his tongue. Too many socipaths in arm's reach...

Lycar

[DrakebloodIV]

"Oy, we missed ya back there. Ya coulda told us 'bout those guys bafore ya left. Now I'm nursin' some ribs tha' feel shattered an' we're no closer ta findin out wha' tha hell is goin' on." Reed glares at her and slings his gun back over his shoulder "'f ya'd be willin' ta tell us what tha hell is goin' on I fer one don't care if ya have ta lobotomize us aftahwords."

Reed whips out his cell phone and texts Gwen.

Change of plans, We'll meet you in the parking garage next to the morgue.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Jessica-that's the name she gave anyway-sighs.
Unfortunately, I've been forbidden from helping you directly. What I can do is answer some general questions and steer things so your investigation is kept under wraps.
Jumping to the van's middle front seat she motions you in.
I'm coming with you-if you want me to. Answers are safer to give where we can't be overheard.

[DrakebloodIV]

"Sure, kid, ya can come. But give us all tha helpful information ya can. First off, why tha hell did ya melt tha bank?"

(OOC- Do you want to be the one who says when we reach the parking lot or should I?)

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos scratches his head. "Oh yeaaaah, the chick with the Zeliska. Heh, getting tossed at a cop will do that.

So, uh, what happened to Joe?" As he says so, he climbs into the passenger's seat.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Being the last out saw Jeffrey miss out on getting the front seat, but he didn't seem to concerned when he saw who was driving.

"Pleasure to see you again." Was all the greeting he offered before climbing into the Van. Angling for a seat at the back. Once there, Jeffrey buckles up and holds his walking stick with both hands.

Leaning across to whisper to Bernman

The_Glyphstone and Belial

"I do not trust Reed. I understand you can do.... tricks too. I feel we should ensure he does not put our lives at risk with that mouth of his again."

[DrakebloodIV]

OOC(Listen check to hear that [roll0])

Reed hears the two men listening but puts it out of his mind..

[WrathOfLife]

OOC(Listen check to hear that [roll0] EDIT: OH YEAH Also edit: sorry, that was supposed to be -1 not +1)

Reed snorts a little as he hears the Jeffrey whisper to the cop. He leans over to speak with Jeffrey.

"Ya do realise ah can hear ya, right? I doubtcha really want ta cross me. You're already getting in way ovah ya head, an' trying ta brownnose a cop wont get ya any furtha in life. Yah an ahcountant, without my resources, yah screwed."

OOC:
DC 15 People whispering1

1 If you beat the DC by 10 or more, you can make out what’s being said, assuming that you understand the language.

Mod's
+5 Listener distracted

Please remove your post.

[13_CBS]

OOC: But he did roll a natural 20...

[WrathOfLife]

OOC: natural 20's arn't auto passes on skill checks.

Edit: "To make a skill check, roll 1d20 and add your character’s skill modifier for that skill. The skill modifier incorporates the character’s ranks in that skill and the ability modifier for that skill’s key ability, plus any other miscellaneous modifiers that may apply, including racial bonuses and armor check penalties. The higher the result, the better. Unlike with attack rolls and saving throws, a natural roll of 20 on the d20 is not an automatic success, and a natural roll of 1 is not an automatic failure."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The girl rolls her eyes at the group's antics-wether she knows what the whispering is about or not you can't tell.
The reason I cleared the bank she says to Reed is because I was told to do so. As for why I was, I do not know.
She pauses for a second to consider then goes on with her explanation.
If I were to speculate on the why, I'd say this was done so you stay out of the radar-even persumed dead, for a time. And also to cover some specific evidence that may have incriminated some fairly influential people. That is, IF I were to speculate. I'm not usually prone to speculation, you understand.

@whispering:

First of all, edit out or spoiler any OOC discussion. These should happen in the OOC thread.
Secondly, drakeblood4, please remove your last post. You aren't supposed to have heard what is said in the whisper-though you do realise some whispering is going on.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Turning away from Bernman, Jeffrey frowns for a moment.

"So, Miss Jessica you are here to babysit us. Just who is it you work for? I don't believe you mentioned that before. I don't suppose you have any insight to offer with, people who turn to dust after having almost an entire clip pumped into them before dropping or disembodied voices that kill people with there own shadows?"

[WillWolf]

Donnie:

Donnie looks kind of bored and annoyed, but otherwise is sitting there quietly. Unlike many, many others; he didn't look at all concerned about the whole un-dead thing.

"Yeah I'm kind of curious how they did that. What kind of smoke and mirrors can make you do that?"

[Lycar]

Norman

Norman listens to what the red-head has to say. He doesn't like the implications. Not one bit.

After a few moments of deliberation, he pipes up "Excuse me, Miss, if I understand corectly, we should not return home anytime soon then? So, would you happen to have some accomodations for us in mind then?"

Lycar

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The young redhead frowns.
Just about any supernatural creature can take bullets like punches but few creatures turn to dust after being damaged enough. Since this is San Francisco, you've probably run afoul of a vampire... which brings us to our second problem.
Jessica seems to be measuring her words, considering how much to tell you. What she does reveal, it is with great reluctance.
I am not employed per se, not really. But my mentor in magic instructed me to watch over unusual events. She and another friend of mine Traveled to Ireland this morning for business and will probably return before the night is out; I am to hold the fort till then.
These two are the only people I know of who could kill someone with shadows-I've seen my friend make another vampire's own shadow physically restrain him, at least; I don't believe killing like that would be much different. And therein lies the problem; what reason would Erika and Morgaine have to rob banks? One lives in a hovel and we can barely convince her to come out, the other could conjure money out of thin air.
It is obvious the young woman is as puzzled as you are about this chain of events; she might know more about what's going on but that only gives her more questions to think about. In the end, she sets the matter aside to think of the more immediate concerns Norman pointed out.
Every other investigator so far turned up dead, mr Thorpe. I cannot decide for you, of course, but I do not see the wisdom in making a target of yourselves for their killer to take you out as well. Trying not to be too obvious for the next few days might be preferable.
As for accomodations, I could offer my house if not for certain questions of practicality. After all, trying to turn on the TV and accidentally pushing the button that sets loose the Yeth Hound in the basement would be only one of many potential disasters.
No, I believe a motel would be much better for a temporary residence; convenient, not very dangerous and fairly anonymous to boot.

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos ponders on the information.

"Hmm...motels, huh? Maybe we should use cash, I don't want my credit card tracked or anything.

Hey, you guys think we should grab places spread out or close together? Spread out means we'll be harder to track down individually, but if any one of us gets attacked then he's pretty much f***ed. If we stick together, we'll be easier to find but harder to kill."

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Giving a slight chuckle at Jessica's far fetched explanation, Jeffrey asks in an all to casual way, "So what kind of weapons can we use to kill a vampire? Should we trade in our guns for crosses? Or garlic?"

Turning to frown at Mr Buss, Jeffrey mutters "You must be new.." before going on louder, "We're the hunters not the hunted. If they find us, it will only give us a trail to follow to find who sent them. I say we should sleep in the same motel, maybe have a guard system"

Shifting to glance down at his walking stick, Jeffrey addresses Jessica again "Would using a club be more effective than a firearm against such creatures?"

[The Glyphstone]

Whisper back:

"I have indeed been granted certain gifts. And one of those gifts is the ability to avoid comradery with criminals such as yourself, unlike too many of my colleagues. We are cooperating towards a common goal in this endeavour, do not delude yourself that this makes us friends of any sort.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Jessica giggles-a fact that proves beyond doubt that, in some ways at least, she's still a girl.
I'd advise against trading your guns away. Vampires are powerful but far between. They mostly work through people they can control mentally, humans magically bound, tricked or paid for to do their bidding. A cross-if it is a holy symbol for you-can prevent most vampires from engaging in melee but won't do anything against a hired thug with a shotgun... or a vampire with a shotgun for that matter.
I suggest upgrading your ammo instead; penetrating rounds, explosive rounds, plain bigger guns. Those usually work. And if you can find them, silver bullets. But garlic? It will only give you a case of bad breath. And pointy sticks? Forget those Holywood movies. Staking a human is hard enough. Staking a vampire, unless you have superhuman strength or terrific luck? Impossible.

[Lycar]

Norman

Norman listens to all that talk about guns, ammo, vampires and wooden stakes. It makes his head swim. Suddenly, however, inspration strikes.

With a sidelong glance at Arcos, Norman asks "Soo... a wooden stake would work against a vampire, but the troublesome part is the manual insertion? I think I do remember having seem some B-movie, in which the hero fired fin-stablilized, saboted wooden stakes from a sawed-off shotgun. Basically a crossbow bolt without a metal tip, padded and stuffed into a shotgun shell without the shot. Would something like that actually work or is that wishfull thinking too? "

Lycar

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Looking at Jessica then at Norman Jeffrey shakes his head in disbelief, "Ok, so vampires. All we need is silver bullets. I don't know where you'll manage to find those..."

Jeffrey frowns slightly "You said 'any supernatural creature' you mean there's more than vampires out there? Just what are we talking about werewolves? Mummies? Zombies?"

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The girl smiles at Norman.
A tip from a gun-nut friend of mine; Dragon's Breath shotgun rounds. Instead of sharpnel, they fire a short-range column of flame. Really effective against the undead. Too bad they're illegal.
Then, at Jeffrey's question, she smiles coyly.
The obvious has ceased being part of the civilized supernatural community since before the Crusades; you won't see mummies and zombies running loose-not unless one of us breaks the law. As to actually answering your question...
Jessica extends her tiny hand towards Jeffrey's own;
I'll answer if you can beat me at arm-wrestling.

[WillWolf]

Donnie:

"Meh, if you really want Dragonsbreath ... I think I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy." Other than that Donnie was being rather silent, kind of bored, and easily distracted.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Jeffrey raises his eyebrows at the young woman. "The Law? Your people have there own laws? Then you'll have your own enforcers...."

Carefully he puts his arm out, "If you wish, but no... cheating" he looks some what uncomfortable, but his suit bulges as his large muscles flex.

[roll0]

Edit: Natural 20 booya

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Ethusiast

Arcos ponders the information for a moment.

"Special rounds, huh? Hmm...if I can read up a bit, I think I could try making the weird ones, like silver bullets. All you really need is a good mold.

But stuff like incendiary rounds, armor penetrating, Dragon's Breath...I know about those, but I'll need heavy equipment to start making those, and that's even if I knew how."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The girl grasps Jeffrey's hand with her own much smaller one and pulls-gently. Jeffrey, putting everything he has in his own effort, feels like he's wrestling with a bulldozer. He could probably bench-press six hundred pounds but the hundred-pound young woman simply refuses to be moved at all...


[roll0]
[roll1]

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Straining with effort, Jeffrey keeps his eyes locked on Jessica's eyes, searching them for some clue as to how she's managing this. Unable to beat Jessica, Jeffrey allows his hand to be eased down as he concedes defeat.

"So" he says while streching his hand out, "Just what are you?"

[DrakebloodIV]

"Ah don' fink ya could make many silvah bullets wif ease. Tha meltin' points too low, yahd have ta cast 'em in individual plastah cases like a jewlah. Mebbie ya could electrahplate ordinary bullets wif silvah...An's Jessie' can ya tell us where ya from?"

[Lycar]

Norman

Norman just mutely watches the arm-wrestling duel between the gentleman thug and what appears for all intent to be a midget woman.

After all that has happened so far, he is not terribly surprised that the 'woman' wins.

Maybe he should take a look into that 'magic' thing himself...

Lycar

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The young woman lets go of Jeffrey's hand and shrugs uncomfortably.
No idea. And that is exactly why women should not be sleeping around in a world that anyone from Barghests to Werewolves can assume human form. Just my bad luck that my mother did, I guess...
Jessica seems lost in thought for a time then shakes her head.
That should be your first lesson though; in my world everyone can be stronger than an average human and most times stronger than the average elephant too. But judging from mr. Reed's injuries and the smashed vault door you saw back there, you probably already knew that.
As the van gets within viewing distance of the morgue, the girl looks at her watch.
I should be going now. I have taken the liberty of having you pack the vault guards' guns; you should not be leaving useful equipment behind when your own weapons are far from sufficient. I've also packed a dozen sandwiches, a meatloaf and some hard cheese for you. Use them wisely.
And with that, the girl is gone in a flash of fire as before.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Frowning as the young woman disappears, Jeffrey mouths Barghests silently as if getting used to the word. Giving himself a little shake he seems to come to his senses slightly.

"Mr Buss, would you be so kind as to check those guards weapons? Namely what kind of ammo they carry."

[Lycar]

Norman

Norman notes the dpressing lack of getaway and voices his concern.

"Soo... are we going to drive off anytime soon? I have a drivers licence if that helps."

Hopefully his reminder comes in time to deter the people he finds himself with to go all 'oohhhhh, shiny' over the slain guards weapons.

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos nods at Norman's advice, but he can't quite keep his eyes away from all the pretty little guns.


"Uh...yeah, yeah, you're right. Let me sit in shotgun, in case any of my buddies sees you driving Joe's van and get pissed.

Now, my beautiful little guns, come to Daddy, he'll treat you real nice..." He begins fondling the guns does his best to identify them.

[Lycar]

Norman

(... at least, if I ever have to stop him chasing me, all I have to do is to toss a fancy gun at him...)

"Very well, I'll drive, just as long as we get away from here."

And so, Norman Thorpe scrambles for the driver's seat, buckles up... "And remember to fasten your seatbelts. We don't want any officers to stop us to point out our lack of safety awareness." ... and starts the engine.

"So, any particular direction or location I should head for?"

If any ideas are forthcoming, Norman will drive there. If not, well, there is this small motel just outside of town...

Lycar

[DrakebloodIV]

"Go an' finda parkin' space, I'll find Gwen"

With that Reed throws open the sliding door and departs from the unmoving van.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Before you have time to drive off, you hear a scream from within the morgue building, faint with distance. You aren't sure but you think it is a woman's scream... and Reed feels there's something familiar about it...

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Leaping out of the Van after Reed, Jeffrey starts saying softly "Not that I don't think you can't look after yourself, but I do think its a good idea for us to stick toge", when the scream pierces the air.

Suiting his own words nicely, Jeffrey reaches into his suit gripping his firearm, but leaving it concealed as he proceeds to sprint off towards the building, leaving the others alone. Over his shoulder he shouts "Remember, we're the hunters here, so lets go hunting."

If Jeffrey makes it to the door, he'll kick it open, and stroll on in, hand on firearm.


[roll0]

[DrakebloodIV]

"Gwen? Gwen?!"

Reed sprints to the door, screaming Gwens name the entire time.


Initiative [roll0]
Run action

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"Hey, did anyone hear th--uh, I guess you did." He hops out of the car, drawing his pistol in one smooth action, and follows after the others.

"Hey Mr. Thorpe," he calls out to his back, "You know how to use those guns, right?"


Initiative:
[roll0]

[Lycar]

Norman

Norman has about resigned to go on and park the car when people start running for the morgue. Not that he didn't hear the yell too, far from it, but he sees the wisdom of having a getaway car ready and facing towards the road.

"Sure thing," mumbles Norman after the departing Arcos sarcastically, "they have a simple point-and-click interface after all. How hard could it be..."

Too bad that Norman's knowledge about guns is purely theoretical. Plus, he feels not certain about wanting his fingerprints on any of them.

Lycar

[13_CBS]

(Thread bump...

Please don't let this game die. :smallfrown:)

[WrathOfLife]

(Just reporting in. Waiting for an update)

[Belial_the_Leveler]

(I was waiting for Glyphstone. Then I remembered he was supposed to be away for a week or so :smalltongue:)


You make a run for the morgue, going down lightless stairs and towards the basement. At this hour, no-one would be here except for an examiner having to work late after the latest murder spree, maybe a cleaner or two and the single guard for the night. Who would want to steal corpses anyway?

The double doors to the storage room are open and the light is on. You can hear wimpering from inside and the strangle, almost inaudible sound of something taking slow, uneasy steps across a room.

As soon as you run in, you come across a scene out of a nightmare-or one of the latest video games; a woman in the white robes and mask of a doctor is cowering behind a fairly plump black security guard with a matching standard-issue revolver held in a very shaky grip. Half a dozen people, all naked and covered in blood, are shambling across the room. They have glazed eyes, vacant expressions and slack jaws, the paleness of death quite evident. A couple of them even have been cut up-standard autopsy procedure-and their entrails are hanging seriously out of place. They are dead. Certainly dead. But they walk...

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"Uh, a zombie apocalypse? Well, there's only one solution for that..."

Arcos aims at the nearest...zombie creature thing.

"Hail to the king, b*tches!"


Initiative roll: [roll0]

Attack the nearest zombie, regular bullet

Attack: [roll1]
Damage: [roll2]

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Dashing through the Door Jeffrey stares with Arcos at the scene, he suddenly regretted leaving his club inside the van.

"First Vampires now this! Is NOTHING alive in this god forsaken city any more?!"

Whipping his firearm out, Jeffrey barely pauses to aim as he rapid fires 5 rounds at 5 different Zombies.


Assuming point blank

[roll=Attack1]1d20+7[roll]
[roll0]
[roll=Attack2]1d20+7[roll]
[roll1]
[roll=Attack3]1d20+7[roll]
[roll2]
[roll=Attack4]1d20+7[roll]
[roll3]
[roll=Attack5]1d20+7[roll]
[roll4]

[WrathOfLife]

Because I am dumb

[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]

Edit: Buahahah Triple threat!

...

on undead AGAIN! WHY!?!?

[The Glyphstone]

"Indeed, Mr. Wilson - see for yourself the sort of things that go bump in the night."

Drawing a bead on the two closest zombies, Arnold doubletaps a pair of rounds into each one's head.


[roll0], [roll1]
[roll2], [roll3]
[roll4], [roll5]
[roll6], [roll7]

+1 to all above rolls for Point Blank Shot.

[Lycar]

Norman

Norman is buisy manouvering the van into a better getaway position as the fusilade begins to ring out.

(*sigh* Why am I not surprised.)

He eyes the bag with the automatic weapons for a moment.

(Maybe I should bring them those? Hrm.. and get myself involved into whatever they are involved in there. Well, more involved... But then again, if they should come out running and screaming for me to step on it, well, the car is facing the road, the engine is still running... good.)

Lycar

[DrakebloodIV]

"YOU MOTHAFUKAH! LET HER GO."

Reeds face burns red as he yells he waves his hand toward a zombie in the shape of a pistol and two bolts of force shoot out of his hand. They hiss and make contact with the creature.

EDIT- Thats qhat I get for skimming, I thought the man was holding gwen hostage.

damage
[roll0]

[Belial_the_Leveler]

As soon as the group starts fighting back, the dead men walking stare stupidly at them and a few moments later they collapse, inert corpses once more. Whatever unnatural force drove them is now gone...


OOC:
Nope, not zombies. Having you do another fight so soon after the vampire thing would not be a good idea. Also this is a good time for Drakeblood4 to describe the girl. :smalltongue:

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos scratches his head.

"Okay, uh...that was kinda weird."

He walks over to the corpses and examines them, trying to see what effect his comrades' bullets have had on them.

FOR THE DM'S EYES ONLY

Knowledge: Firearms check to see if the "zombies"/corpse things' flesh behaves differently to bullets like the way the vampire did.
[roll0]

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Holding his firearm out still with a look of confusion on his face, Jeffrey slowly lowers it and begins a quick reload drill, not wanting to be caught with only half a clip loaded. Placing his firearm back in its hidden holster, Jeffrey seems to regain himself. Walking over to the security guard and the girl, Jeffrey gives a slight bow and introduces himself with a sweep of his hat.

"Good evening, I am Sir Jeffrey Williton. I am here on an investigative matter that I would like your services in. If you would kindly do us the honor of accompanying us to our Van outside? I don't think waiting around here would be the wisest choice."

OOC: Drake are you actually attacking the security guard?!

[13_CBS]

*Thread bump*

(Please don't let this game die. The kittens are crying.)

[WrathOfLife]

(OOC: Not the kittens!)

[Belial_the_Leveler]

OOC; what's up? The rest of you have not posted yet.



The security guard takes a few steps and then his eyelids close and he collapses. The medical examiner beind him, a thin, unathletic blonde in her thirties with her yellowy-brown hair pulled back in a tight knot and her heart-shaped face with the once-soft features hardened by years of working with death falls on her knees, rips the guard's uniform and cuts his vest with a surgical blade. That done, she looks despondently at the blood triclking down the man's chest from a second surgical blade he's been stabbed with and shakes her head.
He's dying. Pierced heart-there is nothing I can do. If I hadn't been working nonstop since those murders begun, I might have been able to save him. Hell, I could have stopped the walking dead on my own. Now all I can do is confirm how hopeless his state is just by looking and prolong his agony for a few minutes.
Looking up at you as if seeing you for the first time, she frowns.
Do you have a car? We must take him to Ocean Beach at once.
The woman's request is... unusual. With a pierced heart, the man will die any moment now-he only has a minute or two to live. That he could stand on his feet through the pain and shock even for a few moments is miraculous-by the time you reach Ocean Beach district, he'll be dead. But then you notice the flow of blood diminishing even as you watch, his breaths evening out and slowing down, his convulsions subsiding at the examiner's touch.
Five minutes. the woman says through clenched teeth, determination battling exhaustion in her face. She's obviously putting a tremendous effort in whatever she's doing. That's how long I can give him, no more.

Meanwhile, Acros checks the corpses and frowns. He's not sure wether a few bullet holes would have stopped the creatures-most of them have been cut open in autopsies and others are missing parts completely and yet they still rose and attacked. He suspects that whatever power held them together merely fled at the group's presence.

At that moment Norman barges in-the two mini-uzis wrapped up and held as far away from his body as possible-and takes in the corpses spread all over the room, the dying man, the determined young woman and several bullet holes adorning the walls.

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

"Well, we got a car, but...maybe we should call the hospital instead?

Oh, and uh, got any idea on why we just had a zombie uprising?

...

Hey, looking sharp there, Mr. Thorpe."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The woman shoots Acros a murderous glare.
He's dying. No hospital in the world can fix a heart in less than five minutes. Most people I know from the Other Side can't do it either. Now stop arguing and crab one of the corpses while your friends help me carry him to the car. We'll take the other body with us, too. If we're to risk going up the food chain for a healing, the least we can do is get some answers.

[Lycar]

Norman

Norman stumbles upon the scene and only gets the last half of the conversation.

He does get the sight of the bullet-ridden corpses lying about in positions that just hint at them having been ambulatory not too long ago.

He wishes he didn't though.

"... it would appear you no longer need additional firepower. Just as well. So this man needs a hospital? Great, we have a van waiting outside. Come on."

And so Norman turns around and hurries back to the car to make sure they don't waste time.

Lycar

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Jeffrey goes to help the woman carry the large man outside, but taking care to secure the guards firearm first. Hearing the women speak of weakness, Jeffrey shifts so that he takes most of the weight himself.

"Whats at Ocean Beach that can save him?" Jeffrey asks as he carefully hauls the man over to the van.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The woman sighs in relief as soon as the guard is in the van and all but collapses in exhaustion.
Thanks for the help. As for "what" lives in Ocea Beach that can save him? It will be safer if we let whatever is there decide wether to tell you or not. Going is his only chance to make it and our only chance to find what's going on-I saw that weirdo policeman with you so you must be looking into things. And if you haven't realised it yet, Arnold is far less of a crackpot than his superiors believe him to be. Too bad neither he nor anyone else will help us if we blunder where we're going now.

[Lycar]

Norman

Norman, from the driver's seat, asks "So where exactly are we going then? Ocean Beach is big."

He nevertheless starts driving into the general direction of Ocean Beach, wondering how much speed will be enough to make it to their destination in time and not enough to draw cops.

"If any of you know any magic tricks to keep police from stopping us, now would be the time to use it. Then we might be able to speed just a bit maybe."

Lycar

[13_CBS]

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos stares at the bullet-ridden corpses for a wee bit too long.

"Huh...woah, wait wait wait up!" He sprints and gets back into the van before Norman manages to take off without him.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

(update after other people post. if they don't post, prod them :smalltongue: I've seen too many games die from lack of player activity)

[DrakebloodIV]

Reed clutches is sore ribs as they walk back to the car. He peers over to Gwen, glad to se his close friend again, but his mood is soured by the look of destress playing across her face. Her dark hair, usually in a neat braid, flails wildly about as she walks.

"So how've things been since we work on tha' series ah magicides a few months back?"

OOC

Reed knows Gwen through work they did on a series of homocides several months back. The perpetrator killed beings of magical ability and used their blood to create ever larger magic circles, which were then used to summon demons. The final summoning circle, seven rings wide and made of the blood of seven people, was destroyed in the nick of time by the two of them.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Gwen smiles tiredly at Reed then frowns at the still dying man in her lap as the van speeds through the city.
Things have not been going well. We've had some sort of vampire war the leeches tried to keep a secret but some of us heard about it anyway. And that supposed collapse in a valley up the mountains? We've had a couple of deaths before they closed up the whole area. Somebody sent me a corpse anonymously and three hours later the feds show up demanding it. And guess what? The man's tissues had degenerated and his bones glowed in the dark. Worst case of radiation poisoning I've ever seen.
Checking the guard's weak pulse and frowning in worry, Gwen almost subconsciously begins fiddling with her braid. In the half light Reed notices for the first time that Gwen's hair is blond, not dark.
And now this murder spree. I've heard all kinds of rumors and not a single clue-and the vile aura the murderer leaves behind makes me sick; some of my hair turned white, even. I'm dyeing them now. Do you like the color?


While Reed and Gwen are catching up, Norman drives the car to the rich people's district; from small cottages lost in gardens of exotic trees to vast manors several storeys high, everything is exquisite and far too pricey for Norman's taste. Though a company could make a lot out of this district, paying up for even limited property damage could mean millions. As he frowns at all the excess and drives on, Norman could swear he's glimpsed the very same two-storey house more than once in one sidestreet or another. From the back of the van Gwen speaks up;
Take seven consequetive left turns anywhere you can, as long as they don't take us out of the district and you don't turn right. Where and when you turn does not matter; we'll reach our destination all the same.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Jeffrey riding in the back happily listens in on the small talk between Gwen and Reed, while keeping an eye out that back to make sure they weren't being followed.

At Gwen's direction Jeffrey begins to mutter under his breath, something about "magic never making things simple."

[The Glyphstone]

"Nothing is simple, Mr. Wilmont. The only difference is if you are ignorant or aware of the complicating factors, and what you choose to do with what you know."

[Lycar]

Norman


Take seven consequetive left turns anywhere you can, as long as they don't take us out of the district and you don't turn right. Where and when you turn does not matter; we'll reach our destination all the same.

Norman just sighs and sets out to do as instructed. One part of him is crying out in disgust at this blatant display of disregard for euklydian geometries, while another part just wonders how this actually does work then.

"If you say so... what does the house look like we are heading for?"

Lycar

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Glancing fearsomely at the cop Jeffrey practically spits out "My name is Jeffrey Williton. Not Wilmont or Wilson. If your the best the boys in blue have to offer its no wonder amatures like Reed are still in business." with that the well built man glares for a bit longer at the cop before turning to stare out of a window.

[DrakebloodIV]

"Heh, petty slights aint gonna get ya anywhere. Ah've done more in tha magical undahground ah this city than anyone ahn this side ah tha law. Ah've killed damn near ah third of tha rogue wizahds in this town, ahnd necromancy rates 'ave 'alved since Ah started."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The van suddenly and inexplicably arrives at the entrance of a small and relatively unassuming house, as far as the manors of the district go; with only one additional floor and no more than sixty feet across, the stone-wrought building has an air of great age; the style it is built in-tiny windows, heavy door, thick walls and a hint of battlements-reminds you of some of the older european castles than any modern construction.
Most of it however is concealed behind a well-kept garden and the perimeter wall-a thin but solid construction which you feel is much stronger than its mere physical presence indicates. The gate, a series of heavy iron bars as thick as your wrist bound together by an upper and lower horizontal beam of solid steel, is already open as if the lady of the house had been expecting you...

Which, of course, she had; a tall, regal woman in her thirties is standing before the house's door, with long black hair and dark eyes, dressed in modern-cut shirt and skirt, both black cloth. The matching heeless pumps and square glasses, black too the both of them, complete the ensemble, giving her the look of a lawyer or bysinesswoman. The intensity of her stare though far outmatches that of any person you've ever met.

A dangerous proclamation, mr Reed, if true. her slightly familiar and powerful voice reaches you even through the closed doors of the van and across the garden. Especially when meeting the chief necromancer of the city. Fortunately for you, your penchant for boasting is well known. The woman nods to the others. My name is Morgan. You are welcome in my home. Please excuse my too formal attire. I was in a business meeting in Ireland not an hour past and I must return to it come morning.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Muttering with a smile Jeffrey whispers to Reed in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear "It seems your reputation proceeds you, Reed."

Hoping out of the Van Jeffrey delivers his best bow and looks some what awkward as he attempts to throw his voice far enough for the woman to hear without seeming disrespectful.

"I thank you for your generous welcome, I am Jeffrey Williton. I fear that we have come to you in this, our hour of need. We have a man, wounded through no fault of his own, in a battle against..." Jeffrey seems to struggle with himself for abit, then shrugs as he remembers the woman calling herself a necromancer "Against the living dead. It is our hope that you might provide aid for him as he is most grievously injured."

Suddenly the blood drains out of Jeffrey's face. "Did you say your name was Morgan or Morgaine? You just came back from Ireland you say? Well, I was wondering when Jess would show up again, she does have a knack for appearing after all the work is done."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The woman smiles and shakes her head as she walks closer. From her amused tone, you realise you're far from the first to ask that question.
Morgan, Morgaine, Morgana in French, Mawrcant in Welsh; they are the same mask evolving through the ages. And contrary to those foolish New Age beliefs, it is not names and words that have power but what lies beneath.
She stops before the group and frowns.
As for the man you bring here for healing, things might prove a little bit more complicated than you expected; he's dead.
Sure enough, from within the van Gwen's attempts to revive the guard become more frantic by the moment.
...no, no... ...Martie stay with me... ...stay with me... ...damnit!
The rear door of the van opens and Gwen steps out, face flushed from the effort and the sorrow.
He's dead. He... he died defending me when I should have dealt with those things myself. And...
Gwen glares at Morgan, fists clenched so hard in an attempt to stop herself from charging at the other woman that her nails draw blood.
...and it is all your fault!

[The Glyphstone]

'Your alias, you mean. Men in your line of work shed names as easily as you shed that fine suit."

And for you, Mr. Reed, I'll do my best to have not been listening for the past minute if you'll do your best not to repeat whatever you had said. It will be a definite distraction from our mission, whatever that might be, if I have to arrest you for serial murder in the middle of it - just keep that in mind."

Turning to Morgan, he eyes her noncomittedly, suspicious but not quite ready to use his godsight on her - something in his gut tells him he does not want to know what it would show him.

[Lycar]

Norman

Norman decides it is the best to pretend to not exist for the time being.

After all, if the world around you goes crazy... is it really the world or is it you...

Instead, he just sits quietly behind the wheel and bids his time.

(Morgana le Fey.. yeah right. Especially since you kinda were the villain of the tale... )

Lycar

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Morgan's smile widens.
You may not have noticed but I am not a man. As for changing my name, I did not. Why was it not-changed for me through the ages is another story. For now, let's get in more comfortable and private accomodations, shall we? I'd advise against taking the corpse out of the van though; there are far too many security cameras in the neighborhood for that.
Walking back towards the house at a rapid but deceptively serene tread, Morgan speaks again as the house's front door opens.
You may come into my house. Mr Thorpe? Mr Williton? I understand that until very recently you had no contact with magic and you find this turn of events quite overwhelming. There is no need to worry; magic has always existed in the world and you learning about it does not change the fact that the world has worked just fine for the past twenty millenia. Not only worrying accomplishes nothing but it may also reduce your efficiency-something inimical to your continued existence, given this whole fiasco. Come inside and ask your questions; I'll do my best to answer them and we'll get to the bottom of this later series of... unfortunate events.

[WrathOfLife]

Jeffrey Williton

Slumping his shoulders as if discovering something horrible he had suspected was proven true, Jeffrey makes his way up to the house. "To be honest with you" Jeffrey starts as he nears the door "I've taken to just trying to kill anything out of place at this stage. Although it seems my weapons are a poor fit for the job." Frowning for a few moments, Jeffrey seems to consider "Jess mentioned that you are rather powerful, perhaps you could help me rearm myself to better do battle against..." Jeffrey struggles for a word before finally settling upon "the abnormal"

[13_CBS]

(OOC: Gah! I thought this game died! :smalleek:)

Arcos, Gun Enthusiast

Arcos, not being quite as familiar with Arthurian mythology, merely scratches his head.

"Hey, Mr. Thorpe," he whispers to the claims adjuster. "You, uh, know who the lady is?"

[WrathOfLife]

(OOC: It also helps to review page 7, I think, when Jess speaks of her.)