Eve of Judgement (Mummy the Curse)

[Mephit James]

The Arisen hear the Call, and they obey. Sekhem pours into their khats, the facsimiles of mortal bodies that are both more and less than their forms in life. Through the fog of Duat, the Call sounds pulling the souls back from death and forcing long-dead sinew and bone to move.

The awakening Arisen all have the same first thought. I am not as I should be.

Instead of the security of their tombs, the deathless are sitting up on a wooden table in a cramped dwelling of some kind. The dwelling is crowded —the Arisen each recognize some of those present as being their retainers —and the smell of fear is in the air; sweat mingled with adrenaline.

After seconds of wakefulness, the mummies all sense other flares of Sekhem; blindingly close, and within the room. Not only are they away from their tombs, but they are not the only deathless servants in this strange place.

[Exthalion]

Shedhartu awoke to the pain of strain and the feeling of tightness. His body was contorted into a cross legged pose and layers of resin and gilt flaked off as his flesh returned to a semblance of living fullness.

At last he opened his eyes, milky white like that of a blind man. He still looked something like the dessicated corpse he had seemed, every bone visible on his thin frame.

"Explanation." Was all he said. His voice was not rough, as his appearance might indicate, but soft as sand flowing over sand. The language had no native speaker for thousands of years, though that would be no bar to those able to wake him.

As his scattered thoughts began to align there was a single core around which they aggregated. A purpose, a reason he lived again.

[stanleyindraven]

Strange, the feeling of coming back was always strange. Wosret felt the same burning every time he was called upon, was it normal, who knows? He did however know that things were different this time.

His anger welled up, knowing his tomb was not present did not set well with him. He clenched the hilt in his hands tightly and opened his eyes. Turning his head he could see the Sekhem rushing through the room, filling the deathless there. "Purpose," he shouted, knowing it was the only true reason to rise.

He looked at the humans filling the room, smelled their fear, and rose to his feet. Hardly able to stand at first, then, as the Sekhem filled him, stood upright and glared at the others.

[horus42]

If Amenhotep had eyes, they would have flown open as Sekhem poured into his body. And yet, though his eyes had rotted away long ago, he still saw. A strange room, he wasn't in his tomb. Something was wrong, but nothing had been stolen, his tomb hadn't been desecrated, of that he was sure. He sat up, drawing a ragged, rattling breath into his nonexistent lungs, and saw the other Arisen, as well as people he thought were vaguely familiar. Members of his cult, though he couldn't recall their names.

He tried to remember where he was, or rather, where he was supposed to be. A flash of memory, of crossing the Atlantic in a great ship, of a bustling and growing city. Brazil. Rio de Janeiro. He tried to moisten his mouth, and spoke in Portuguese, looking directly at his cultists. "Why have you woken me?"

[Mephit James]

The low-ceilinged room is a tense chaos as the mummies' senses return to them. The place is crowded with humans of totally unfamiliar faces - though this is hardly a new experience - who alternately throw themselves to the floor in worship or shrink back in shock and awe. A few mortals rush forward to each of the Arisen to reassure them and offer their loyalties...

An older man of mixed Japanese and African ancestry steps forward to Shedhartu with a bow, flanked by two others with Japanese features who keep their gaze reverentially lowered. "Lord the Buddha, please apologies for our disturbing," he says in very rough Iremite. He must have learned from someone else in the Rio Sangha sect, though that person cannot have known the tongue well either. This man's face is older but somewhat familiar, though his name is not at all. "The city, it is not safe for us. There are black hearts around and they wish... they want harm upon you. Others, your brothers... They're people say they will help." He gestures behind him at the rest of the group, including the warrior-mummy on the next table who is shouting and casting about with empty eyes.

Wosret felt his dessicated khat, his preserved body, filling with Sekhem and becoming the idealized sahu form but he's too impatient to wait for the process to complete. At his shout, a pair of muscled women rush forward, their dark black skin shining in the torchlight around the room. "Lord Wosret!" one of them says in the rough Portuguese of the street, "This is a glorious day! We've brought your fight to all parts of this city waiting for you to wake and lead us, but the enemy bastards have grown bold. We called to you through death, so that you can show us the true warrior's way!" The second woman kneels and holds forth Wosret's pyropus khopesh, trembling slightly at being before a deathless god.

Across the room, the powerful form of Amenhotep is attended to by two men in suits and a finely dressed woman who holds out a silk robe for the Arisen to wrap himself in. "My lord," one man says in a cultured tone, "You may not remember me, we met when I was just a child. My name is Rodrigo Silveira, I am the current head of your company." He pauses and his hands clasp nervously then release. "It was my decision to begin the rites to bring you back. I was concerned for your safety. There have been incidents in the city and rumors that made the board think you and your brethren were not safe in slumber. These others, the... tribes, they have come here with us so that we might wake all the Arisen to face the threat together. Semhiq qHarto Duaht," he finishes in a fair approximation of Iremite. Service to the Judges of Duat.

[horus42]

Amenhotep slowly stepped off of the table, his dessicated feet and legs easily supported his body. He took the robe and put it on, even as the illusion of his sahu formed about his flesh.

"It is well that you put your faith in me, my child." He said, as he placed his hand on Rodrigo's shoulder. "The offenders will be dealt with most harshly."

And only then did his attention turn to the other Arisen, to see if he knew them, or if he did, whether he remembered them yet.

[Exthalion]

So I am Enlightened One. A strange term to use, neither of Irem or this place unless the land is very much changed.

He closed his eyes and unfolded himself into a standing position. "Is water still and disturbed by ripples or rippled and disturbed by stillness?"

He opened his eyes. "Have you a bow?"

His eyes glanced over the other mummies, failing to recognize any.

[watupwithdat]

With a raspy half-scream more akin to a low-pitched hiss Hetepheres awakened, the Sekhem enveloping and perforating her being. Her khat was thin, more so than male Arisen, having been a woman and all before her true body became what it is now. Her hair was long, surprisingly intact after all this time. Soon she would be beautiful. That she could remember.

She did not know where she was. She grasped with her right hand as she laid there, hoping to find the hilt of her sword. It wasn't there. She couldn't slaughter anyone with it now.

"Where? Why? When?" she asked, the first word in ancient Iremite, the second Arabic and the third Portugese. She forced her frame to rise, and looked around. There were others of her kin there. And mortals. Plenty of mortals. She wanted to know what the purpose for this was. Who needed to be slain.

[Aux-Ash]

Tawatu stirred, ancient dried limbs slowly returning to life. Slowly, clumsily she lifted her elbows onto the table in front of her hand clasped her hands over her face. Slowly she lifted her head from the hands and opened her eyes. Looking around with a bewildered expression.

This was not her tomb. Why was it not her tomb? Where had they taken her? There were others here, she sensed them and heard them. Though the sounds were still muffled and indistinct, ancient eardrums slowly becoming used to hearing again.

She tried speaking, but the tounge was a dusty dry old thing and the vocal cords unnused for much too long. After a few attempts, the ancient being managed to utter a few dry, rasping words in the language she had spoken in life:

What is the meaning... of this?

[stanleyindraven]

"What dangers beset us? Why are others here," Wosret barked out. He then looked at the other Arisen, confused, he couldn't remember them.

[Mephit James]

The older man looks blankly at Shedhartu for a minute, obviously uncomfortable but lost in the complicated idiom. When the mummy asks for his weapon, however, the man's expression brightens. "Yes, Lord, of course." He looks behind him at one of the Japanese men dressed like a monk. His bald head shines in the torchlight as he pulls a finely-made ebony bow of Egyptian make from his robes. "This was among your possessions in your tomb," Hebito answers as the other man kneels and offers up the bow like a sacrifice. "I know you prefer to have it upon waking." It taks Shedhartu a moment to realize that he does know this man's name. Hebito, Snake-Person. In his honor.

Is this bow Shedhartu's regium relic? For that matter, what is the relic? Oh and apparently Firearms is the Skill to use with bows but that's dumb. I'll let you use Athletics instead if you like.

As the standing mummies look around at the other dessicated bodies one sits up with a howl from the table. A man in a tight shirt and jeans, arms covered in snake tattoos, jerks back and stumbles to the ground. He had been looking closer with concern at her lack of movement and lies terrified at the sight of the shriveled khat of his goddess, Hetepheres. A woman on the other side of the table quickly steps forward to cover for the mistake. "You are safe, my queen," the woman reassures Hetepheres in Portuguese, "I am sorry this is not your home but we brought you here for your safety. These are dark days but we know that you are powerful enough to stop your enemies, particularly with the power of others like you."

The woman motions impatiently with a smooth-skinned hand, her wooden bracelets and large metal earrings clattering with the gesture. "These are for you," she says as a teenaged boy holds up a beautiful silk dress with trembling hands, "and this." Next to the boy, a young girl is made to kneel by the man who fell earlier. Her eyes are downcast before the goddess but to Hetepheres she seems resigned and calm. The man behind her offers a bronze knife handle-first to the Arisen, a faint smile on his lips. "Bathe and dress, my queen," the other woman (Arreiano?) says in a voice filled with desire and heat, "Then we will tell you of those weak enough to stand in your way."

The other mummies are clearly having similar conversations with their cultists, and one of them yells out for answers. "Hunters," one of the black-skinned women answers Wosret, making it sound like spitting, "Fools who think they can stand up to a being like you."

"We are ready, lord," the other woman answers, brandishing a gleaming revolver. The woman next to her and several others near Wosret's table pull out machetes, clubs, and even a battered-looking firearm the ancient mummy can't begin to comprehend. "Lead us in battle"

At a fifth table across the room, a man in a black coat and a dark hat pulled down looks nervously at the warrior-cult with drawn weapons. "God, those damned savages..." he is saying as Tawatu stirs and opens her empty, rotted eyes. The man in the coat jumps and a woman next to him quickly grabs clothing and jewelry to lay out in front of the mummy. "Radiant one," the man answers in Iremite, "we are honored by your return." This apparently exhausts his ability with the ancient tongue for he switches to Arabic, "We are sorry for the strange location. The city is not safe and your resting place is being watched. We agreed to work with these others for your safety but they seem unstable. Perhaps we should change the alliance? I can bring you somewhere else, a corporate office, and inform you of the situation there..."

At the next table, other corporate types are looking sidelong at Tawatu's Radiant Angel employees. "We are still loyal," Rodrigo assures Amenhotep, "And we have kept channels open to the Radiant Angel Corp since you were last awake. When we realized that they faced a similar foe to us we decided to work together. Then these others..." The cultured man half-heartedly gestures to the other cults in the room and leaves the statement in the air. Compared to Amenhotep's cult and the finely-dressed mortals to her left, the other humans in the room look like slaves and gap-toothed savages. They are dressed in dirty clothing, amateurish jewelry, shirts plastered with strange, gaudy writing... One group even holds weapons as if they might attack at the slightest provocation.

All of the Arisen have vague recollections of their fellows on other tables. They have known each other in past Descents, perhaps even worked together, but names are difficult to grasp especially looking on the dessicated khats rather than the magically-forged sahu.

Anyone confused by the terms might benefit from considering this newly-updated page (http://whitewolf.wikia.com/wiki/Arisen_(MTC)) on the nature of the Arisen at the unofficial WW wiki. Also, feel free to interact with your fellow mummies... Saves me on having five separate conversations. :smallbiggrin:

[stanleyindraven]

"Hunters, ones seeking my destruction! I shall not have this! My people, we will not be intimidated," Wosret exclaims as he looks at the dirty gang members. He then looks at Hetespheres, "Do I know you? You seem to have quite the figure coming to you, and your face seems familiar." His forming face contorts into a puzzled look.

Am I naked?

[horus42]

Amenhotep overhears the Radiant Angel employee speaking in Arabic, then turns to address him, in the same language. "Savages they may be, but they are at the same time useful tools." He then looks to Tawatu, and speaks to her, still in Arabic. "It would seem that you and I are of a similar mind, madam. I am Amenhotep, servant of Neheb-Nefert." He offers her a low bow.

[watupwithdat]

These mortals seemed young. But eager. And afraid. Though not this girl. Perhaps she was good at hiding it. Hetepheres pivoted and rose from the table and grasped the silk dress that was extended to her. She struggled putting it on before the woman stepped in to help, the only one seemingly fearless enough to do so. The dress looked strange covering her mummified form, but Hetepheres liked goodlooking clothes to wear. "Where is my high-priest?" she asked, not really remembering who it was. All these ones seemed too young for such a position.

When someone loudly explained that it was "hunters" that was the reason for her Call, she attempted to remember who these hunters were and what they were hunting. Them? Their cults? The vessels of the Judges? She spoke up, loud enough so the one who had exclaimed it could hear. "Hunters of what? They seek their death."


As Wosret asks her if he knows her, Hetepherese has a simple answer. "I do not know."

[Exthalion]

Shedhartu took the bow, examining it with a craftsmen's eye to ensure it was in good condition.

I will speak when I have need to speak. Better a single word spoken with perfection than a thousand in waste.

[Aux-Ash]

A threat? Tawatu peered with dead and perfectly embalmed remains of eyes at what she supposed was her high priest. If it was true it was a prudent action to have moved her body, though she did not care for having been seated at this table like an equal. She nodded with stiff and dry muscles as he explained the situation. But the man questioning his own deeds made her stop and focus on him intently. She replied in slightly archaic arabic, understandable to a modern speaker with a minor effort.

Wihdraw? No, I think not. I do not care for my chosen to secondguess their deeds and choices. Your judgement led us to forge these alliances and we will reap the fruits you have sown. We shall hope that it was a wise course of action... for your sake.

Another arisen addressed her chosen, and she nodded at the truth of his words. Casting a glance at the finely suited man that represented her cult, to ensure that he also understood that she agreed with her counterpart's assesment. Even the most elegant touch sometimes requires a more blunt approach.

It seems so indeed. I am pleased to make your aquaintance, Amenhotep. I am Tawatu, servant of Ruruti.

She bowed respectfully before Amenhotep, returning the gesture he had showedto her and then turned her attention back to her lieutenant who had doubted his own decisions in her presence. Her mien was starting to assert itself; the Sahu had not taken form yet so her khat still made her look like the corpse she was, but now she was a beautiful corpse.

I desire to be informed of the situation. Immediately.

[Mephit James]

Yeah, you guys are all naked except for some rotting cloths. You don't have anything else unless your cultists have given it to you.

The cultists watch Amenhotep and Tawatu exchange greetings in Arabic with eagerness. They are witness to two gods reuniting. And so when Tawatu turns on them, the Radiant Angel employees shrink back with wide eyes. The man who spoke earlier struggles to respond. "Second-guess... N-no, my lady! Of course not! We did this for your safety, the gang members, they-"

He is cut off as one of the other Arisen, the woman with the fine features slowly filling out as Sekhmet floods her body, shouts to her assembled cultists. "Where is my high-priest?"

The two women in front of Hetepheres look uncertainly at each other before the quieter one speaks. "He is dead, Great One. The hunters killed him."

"They are a gang," Silveira says in front of Amenhotep, using the Portuguese that the crowd seems to favor. "Drug runners and pimps who think they own this favela. They would not be trouble in ordinary times but they... they seem to know all of our secrets before we could react. We all suffered attacks over a series of weeks and when we realized that all of the Arisen were being targetted we decided to band together." The man pauses, seemingly unsure to go on, then visibly steels himself to continue. "Then we learned that the Arisen Kasmut had disappeared. His tribe is scattered, his tomb empty and collapsed." At the mention of this Kasmut, the other Arisen all feel a tug at their memories. A face, young and dark-skinned, and an old danger shared together.

"After that," Silveira goes on, seemingly unaware of the effect his words are having on the mummies. "After that, we knew that our masters were not safe where they slept. So we brought you here, to this safehouse of the Wosretites. We brought all of your possessions for safekeeping and Hebito began the Calling to bring all of you back." As he explains, the other cultists begin to push back tarps to reveal crates of precious treasure, rescued from the tombs of the Arisen masters.

"Now you are here," says one of Wosret's black-skinned women, kneeling with a revolver held at the ready. "And you will lead us to vengeance!"

[watupwithdat]

"They did what?" Hetepheres exclaimed when she heard her high priest had been killed by some mortals, the volume of her voice growing louder with every syllable. She did not even know or remember who it had been, but she was infuriated. Only she was allowed to slay her own cult's high priest. "I will have their heads, rip their entrails out and bathe in their blood!" She grasped the bronze handle that still was waiting to be taken by her, eager to cut something down. The sight of her khat wearing a fine silk dress and at the same time holding a bronze sword was quite something.

Kasmut? Her memory jerked. She could not place it further than a crude description of a man. But she knew it. Hidden somewhere inside her memories. But were the memories relevant? Were they needed? She had her awoken purpose. Destruction. Vengeance. Teaching these "hunters" a lesson in humility and bloodletting.

[stanleyindraven]

"That is the emotion I am looking for! Anger! We shall find and destroy the source of this danger," Wosret proclaims as he hears the woman's fury. Standing in his nakedness he did not seem embarrassed. His figure filling in, the broad muscular chest takes its form.

[horus42]

Amenhotep follows Silveira's lead and switches back to Portuguese. "They claimed one of our own?" He pauses, in utter disbelief. "Thank you, Rodrigo. You and the others have done the right thing in calling me back from my slumber. You all know that I can be a merciful god, but I will show no mercy to these hunters." He clenches his fists in fury, the dried out linen wrappings cracking with the movement.

He glances over at the more tribal of his peers, those howling their rage to the heavens. Amenhotep's fury was more cold, distant. He recognized the name Kasmut, but besides a vague recollection of a face, he didn't remember how he knew him. Perhaps the others remember him better.

[Exthalion]

Shedhartu spoke up in the tongue of the City of Pillars, loud enough that his voice would be heard by all the Arisen in the room.

"There is value to such talk as you have made and it is of the sort which must be paid er true discourse might being.

However, now that it is paid, the time has come to put it aside. Answer me then, if you are able; how are we to go about this trial? Will we each of us go forth armed with our deathless terror and a panoply of weapons and worshipers, like the barbarian kings our armies once threw down, or shall someone here elect to direct us and ours in what should be done to best conclude this threat out our persons and prestige?

It would be terribly unfortunate if we should be interrupted by enemies in the midst of posturing and pontificating.

For myself, I have little skill in the arts of war and will defer to one with such skill. I advise the rest of us do the same so we may be done with this."

[horus42]

Amenhotep looks to Shedhartu and nods. "Agreed. Subtlety is more common in this era, is it not?" He pauses, trying to remember if that actually is the case. Eventually, he seems to think that he was right. "It would be better, I think, not to storm the streets in all our glory and terror. The offenders will feel our full wrath," he adds, to appease the more savage and warlike of the cults. "But we would draw even more unwanted attention to ourselves if we strode out in overt displays of power."

[watupwithdat]

The prattlings by weaklings, not ready to take up arms and slay that which defiles your being. Hetepheres had no patience with such things at the moment, especially not when her Sekhmet was at its height. How would they imagine to be subtle in their current forms? No. Her fury would not be contained. Especially not as long as she did not have a high priest. But how did she get a new one? She couldn't remember how hers was appointed. Did she appoint one? Did her cult find one in a ritual battle? She got distracted by fleeting thoughts and cloudy memories unable to pierce their veils.

Then she regained her senses. Her fury. "They will feel my wrath! They will all drown in sand and their own blood." She had power over the sands. Did she not? She did. Flashes of cities and tribal settlements buried in sand storms appeared in her mind's eye. There was no escaping her wrath. Her Sekhmet flared as she vaguely remembered past deeds. Past destruction.

Hetepheres then calmed herself, ever so slightly. She was still furious, but it was controlled fury. "Mummified remains talking of subtlety." she said, using their ancient tongue. "You are Arisen. You are the servants of the Judges and the creation of the rulers of the ancient City of Pillars." She looked upon her kin, her weak kin. "No ability in war? Your form is nigh invincible. Your grip crushes the common man's skull. You can destroy these mortal hunters, and so shall you enact revenge and fulfill your Call's purpose." Even without her khat's beauty, she still had some strange charisma about her. Bloodthirsting and ruthless charisma.

I'm having Hetepheres thinking that their first purpose is the destruction of these hunters, and therefore their own protection. I'm unsure if the first purpose of the Call has been mentioned specifically or if that's what. I think that's it, atleast. And so does Hetepheres.

[Exthalion]

"Combat is not battle, battle is not war, war is not logistics, and the transitions between them are not smooth."

Shedhartu looked impatient. For all that I am grateful, there are such better uses of my time than combat.

[stanleyindraven]

"Finally, a woman who speaks true," Wosret says as he looks at Hetepheres. "If it is war they bring upon us, then it is war they will have. Do It your way with speech if you want, but I have found that even those who cannot fight need defending." He then lifted his khopesh.

[Exthalion]

Perhaps I am using words too long for them.

"We should fight now, talk later, and have the best commander direct the cult forces. Is that sufficient?"

[Aux-Ash]

Kasmut, the name tugged at the strings of memories hidden deep. Tawatu sat sunken deep in thought, trying to recall whom the name belonged to. She looked up and followed the discussion that took place, turning her gaze from one speaker to the next.

War shall indeed be wrought on those that bring war upon us. The question, however, is not what they shall recieve but how to find them. If we depart to the thunder of drums with banners held high our enemy will simply go to ground and wait us out.

So I concur with our esteemed counterpart. Let those of us skilled with people, subelty and knowledge find them and then you shall lead us all into battle against them.

She nodded towards the more warlike of the arisen in the room. Her voice had soften considerably, now much smoother and delicate than the dry rasp that had previously left the ancient mouth.

She turned her attention both towards the representative of her own cult and towards the one that had presented the issue in the first place.

You mentioned they are peddlers of poison and flesh? That suggest that the proper course is to follow the buyers and follow the money to find them.

[horus42]

Amenhotep inclines his head towards Tawatu. "Yes, that was precisely the point I was trying to make. Perhaps subtlety was an incorrect choice of word." He then turns back to Rodrigo. "My child, you and those closest to me are skilled in the art of economics. Trace the flow of currency through the city. Find the buyers of their... goods and services... and track down those who would do us harm."

[Exthalion]

"I hate to keep doing this, but I gather there are armed men fairly close to us at this moment. Perhaps we can remove that particular threat before we deal with the larger issue?"

[horus42]

Has my memory deteriorated that much? he thinks to himself. "They are here now? I thought we were Called to hunt them down." His gaze turns back to his assembled cultists. "If they are here, hand me my sword."

[stanleyindraven]

Wosret looks for a window, if none are found, he leaves through a door to find a window to look out on the streets below.

[watupwithdat]

It would seem atleast some had come to their senses. Not taking up arms. Such an act of weakness and stupidity.

Hetepheres looked at the sword she had taken from one of her minions. It was a khopesh. The weight seemed pleasing to her. Was it hers? How long had she had it? She raised it and promptly swung it through the air, creating a gust of wind that blew apart dust particles on the floor. Her swing was clean, precise, even after being asleep. Her form was strong.

She looked upon the woman follower that had done most of the talking before. She seemed capable. "What is your name?" Hetepheres asked of her. "Where are these mortals I am to destroy?" she continued before she woman had a chance to tell her name.

[Mephit James]

Silveira can't help but stare at Wosret as he walks past the man to the door of the cellar. "You should be safe here," he assures Amenhotep.

"We don't know that, moron," the bolder of Wosret's women snarls, "They found us before."

"This is different," Hebito returns calmly, "we knew to be more careful this time. They will be safe."

Hetepheres' cultists turn to her with almost fawning expressions. "They are just thugs. Too strong for us, but certainly not for you."

Rodrigo Silveira looks furious, probably angered to be losing control of the situation. If he is like other high priests of the ACC this is an unfamiliar feeling. "I'm telling you, we will be fine here! Let's make a plan!" One of the other ACC cultists steps forward with a khopesh for Amenhotep. If anything, this annoys Silveira more.

As Wosret mounts the short steps to the street level, he sees that it is night time and that they are in a run-down part of the city. The street which runs between the delapidated buildings and sheet-metal huts is still crowded with people. Just as Silveira is loudly proclaiming their safety, the half-formed warrior-priest heard a juttering sound like scattered lightning. The people in the street scatter as well, running to their huts to hide as a band of a dozen men with strange looking rifles pointed in the air. The muzzles flash with fire as another round of the juttering roar echoes through the streets.

Automatic gunfire, obviously, not that the Arisen would know that. Feel free to react as you will. At the moment you are half-recreated into your former selves. You can try to hide your appearance with a Manipulation + Subterfuge check or just scare the tar out of people.

[watupwithdat]

Hetepheres' questions wasn't answered by the woman before the sound of something menacing came from where the other Arisen had gone. Her memory tried to place the sounds, unsuccessfully identifying the autofire but recognising it akin to primitive gunfire.

"They are here for death." she said, gripping her khopesh ever so tightly, ready to cut limb from limb, and calmly walked towards the noises outside. This was good. Now she didn't have to go searching for them. She appreciated when her enemies came to her to die.

She's going outside after Wosret.

Would appreciate some information of the surrounding environment outside, kind of soil, amount of sand around and such things when she has an opportunity to see.

[horus42]

Amenhotep takes the khopesh from his cultist, and not a moment too soon. When he hears the gunfire, he recognizes it as the sound of a weapon. He follows Worset and Hetepheres out the door, sword in hand, ready to bring his righteous vengeance to bear upon these mortals who would dare to think they could bring harm to the Arisen.

[stanleyindraven]

Wosret bursts through the door and charges up to the street, naked and half formed with sword in hand. He screams loudly in an attempt to intimidate the combatants, and all others nearby.

It has been a while since I have done much in WoD so that is what, 3 dice for intimidate and 4 for presence? [roll0]

[Aux-Ash]

With the others rushing out to meet the threat, Tawatu slowly but deliberately rose and took a few steps towards the door. It seemed the time for battle was now and not later. Halfway to the door she turned her attention back to her own cultists and spoke with a firm voice.

I command that you start mobilising my chosen focus their efforts at locating the lair of our enemy. Start tracing their money and their customers.
In addition... we're about to attract some attention. We will need to relocate after the battle. Find a new haven for us and transportation to get us there.

After that command, Tawatu followed the other arisen up the stairs. Walking stoically into battle with her dried mummified head held high. The sybaris would come very useful indeed in the fight.

[Mephit James]

@stanleyindraven: That's the right roll and you got two successes there (the 8 and the 9) so that's a regular success. He's also half-corpsified so he'll trigger Sybaris in addition to scaring the gang members.

Amenhotep and Hetepheres come up behind Wosret, baring khopeshes as well and facing down the mortals firing into the air. As they reach street level, the warrior-priest lets out a roar and the chaotic scene devolves into one of utter, primal violence.

The people on the sides of the street look over to see a half-dead thing on the streets and are gripped (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3998153/) with a sudden, crazed need to crush it. They grab bricks, boards, pieces of metal, glass bottles and other detritus which they hurl at the trio of mummies on the steps of the house. As missiles scatter around them, the Arisen are not afraid for their lives, but the added cloud of trash is an extra difficulty.

This environmental factor is going to impose a -1 penalty on anything involving moving or positioning.

The gang members scatter as well (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3998170/), but in a slightly more organized way. They are clearly terrified but are not going to be scattered just by a roar from some strange figure. The dozen or so that are visible fan out and shouts to others can be heard headed back in the direction they came from. There might be as many as thirty or forty of these armed men in the surrounding streets. Some of them set up behind the sheet metal walls scattered around the street and others dive into ditches for cover. The bare dirt of the street is pounded by feet running this way and that, combined with the moving shadows of the trash fires and fizzling electrical bulbs of the provide uneven and unreliable lighting.

Not that you know what they rolled, but they got three successes so they can make their own decisions but take a -3 penalty to rolls against the Arisen. Now that we're out on the street (and Tawatu is on his way out... what about Shedhartu?) go ahead and make an Initiative roll (1d10 + Dex + Comp) and we'll get an order up. If you want to figure out the gang members' intent, you can make a Wits + Empathy or Wits + Streetwise check to read their movement.

[Exthalion]

In Portuguese Shedhartu spoke to the cultists still in the room. "Save your master command it, hold here. Your lives are your own, your service is your master's."

With that he shut the door, stood before a window, knocked an arrow, and drew it.

Initiative: [roll0]

Attack Roll with his bow against one of the attackers:
Dexterity 2 + Athletics 2
[roll1]

Damage Roll
Strength (If it is a compound bow, +1. If not, ignore the right most roll.)
[roll2]

[Mephit James]

Initiative
Hetepheres 13
Amenotep 13
Wosret 11
Tawatu 11
Shedhartu 8

Gang Members 5

Hetepheres is up first, then Wosret. You can either do something at range or reach the closest gang members by using your full turn to run the twelve yards to them.

Also, Exthalion, Shedhartu will have to step outside. There aren't any windows in the basement.

[watupwithdat]

With all the random various stuff being thrown around her from the meek people who happened to be on the street Hetepheres was disappointed the real hostiles was running away instead of coming to her to die. She would rather not chase after them. They were hunters her followers had said, so why would they not hunt now.

She walked out across the street khopesh in hand towards what seemed like the closest scared hunter, ready to strike down anyone who came too close, her silken dress waving in the wind. It was not every day one could look upon mummified remains dressed so nicely.

[horus42]

Amenhotep closes the distance between himself and the nearest hunter, his blade held at his side. He readies himself to strike, staring into the eyes of the man he means to kill, hoping that the poor soul can find solace in death that was denied him in life.

Basically, I'm just moving the 12 yards for my turn, I'll actually attack next time.

[stanleyindraven]

"Why are you running and hiding," Wosret yells in portugese. "I will not tire and you will only die with no breath if you run!"

[Aux-Ash]

As Tawatu ascends the stairs she takes a moment to evaluate the situation, looking it over calmly and weighing all options in her mind. Lots of panicked mortals desperately trying to throw rocks at them to fend them off, enemies approaching in likely large numbers. She and her fellow counterparts in the open.

She was no great warrior, but adding those factors together sounded to her like they were unfavourable. So, best even the odds while she burned with Sekhem.

The ancient mummy turned her gaze to the trashfires and intensified her glare at the smoke billowing from them. Calling upon the darkness of the soul she willed the smoke to surround her and start swirling around her. Commanding it to guard her and those around her. As the air around her thickened with smoke, grit and the strange smell of incense and hid her from sight she began advancing to follow the others.

She addressed her fellows in Iremite:
Use this cloud as cover from their weapons.


Using the Utterance: Revelations of Smoke and Flame. Page 127.

Paying 1 Sheut.

[Mephit James]

Hetepheres walks across the street, barely registering the brick that thuds into her back. She can see the group of criminals that she is approaching talking to each other nervously behind the scrap of sheet metal they are using as cover.

Walking into the middle, I made a 5-dice attack from the crowd. Minus Hetepheres' defense, that's just a 2 and they made one success so you take a bashing damage but thanks to being Arisen that heals in a turn.

Amenhotep picks out a lone soldier attaching some curved box to a rifle. He looks up in fear as the Arisen approaches, finally clicking the box in place and aiming.

Is Wosret just shouting or moving towards some bad guys?

With her shadow-soul smoldering inside her like a brazier, Tawatu gathers smoke and shadow into the street like a dark cloak. It fills the middle of the street, rolling after the advancing mummies and forcing the invaders back even farther.
This cloud has a radius of 14 yards (and since that's about how far Hetepheres and Amenhotep advanced, they're within it) and it reduces visibiltity so that everyone in it is substantially concealed (-2 penalty to be hit). The smoke is choking and spending more than 30 seconds (10 rounds) in it deals a point of bashing damage to those who need to breathe (i.e. not you guys).

Shedhartu next and then the gang members.

[Exthalion]

After he secured the cultists in the room and shutting the door behind him, Shedhartu surveyed the cloud of smoke before him. His dead face was unmoved by any annoyance he might have felt for having to shoot through it.

He drew an arrow, knocked it, and exhaled. With perfect stillness he stood, preparing to make the perfect shot.

Using my action to Aim.

[stanleyindraven]

Wosret is advancing on the nearest attackers, not the ones throwing stones.

[Mephit James]

As a sandstorm covers the street, swirling shadow and smoke which makes it hard to see much of anything beyond arm's length. Shedhartu draws an arrow and trains it on one of the four knots of armed gang members, the same one that Wosret is advancing on.

Despite their fear and panic, the knots of three or four gang members finally launch into action with guns blazing. Wosret falls backwards in a hail of bullets unlike anything he's ever experienced. The mummy falls back into the dust in a heap as other bullets thud into his companions.

Edited per comment about bullets and bashing damage...

Wosret takes 8 bashing damage, enough to drop him to the ground. He'll be back on his next action (with the -3 wound penalty) since you heal a point of bashing per round. You can seal the flesh if you want to step this up.
Hetepheres takes 3 bashing damage, not too bad.
Amenhotep takes 4 bashing damage, which isn't bad but probably deserves some attention.

You'll heal a point of bashing every round naturally... Or as naturally as mummies get.

That second "Wosret" in OOC should be Amenhotep and ignore the Tawatu line... I'm definitely doing this in IC next time...

Top of the order again: Hetepheres, Amenotep, Wosret, Tawatu, then Shedhartu.

[horus42]

(Just as an OOC note, mummies only take bashing damage from bullets, just like vampires do...)

[stanleyindraven]

Wosret, though angered, will rise as soon as able. No reason to start the fight with weakness.

[watupwithdat]

The shotgun blasts coming her way did nothing more than slightly tatter her silken dress. If Hetepheres had cared any about the dress she'd probably been a little annoyed. Instead her blood lust was building as she came closer and closer to the gangers that could barely hurt her. She felt a slight urge to unleash her full power to really announce her awakening, but for now she'd give the mortals a chance.

When she reached the shotgunwielding gangers, though she wasn't entirely sure the firearms were called shotguns, she raised her khopesh and swung it. A clean cleaving of the mortal would be most welcome, but as long as blood flowed she'd be content.

I interpreted it as she'd reach someone this turn, so she's moving and then doing a melee attack with her sword at whichever ganger it was that she had spotten (assuming it's the same ones that shot the shotgun at her).

Str+Weaponry+Sword=4+5+3: [roll0] — Defense/Armor of target (which I don't know)
10-again: [roll1]
Edit: Such bad rolls. I'm guessing that means 1 Lethal damage only. She's disappointed not more blood flows.

I guess she's healing the 1 bashing at the start of her turn, so now she's down to 2 bashing.

[horus42]

The bullets tear through Amenhotep, and would have grievously injured him, had he been a mortal man. His internal organs had been removed millennia ago, so there was nothing for the bullets to destroy.

Still staring directly into the eyes of the man who had just shot him, he brought his sword down in an clean arc.

I'm spending a point of Ba to increase my strength for the scene, and striking this punk down with my Khopesh.
Strength+Weaponry+Specialty+Sword: 6+3+1+3-Target's Defense(which I also don't know.)
[roll0]

[Mephit James]

Hetepheres feels her khopesh blade slice through mostly clothing, catching the man's skin only lightly. He is strong but so thin. Is he a slave? Some underfed urchin? And he would threaten her people?

Amenhotep has more luck, as her blade slices through one man's shoulder with a spray of blood that stains the dirt below. He swears in Portuguese and the arm sags against the man's side as he struggles to keep his gun poised.

Wosret's eyes snap open on the ground as consciousness returns and the Sekhem-fueled sahu moves again.

Wosret gets one box healed of bashing damage so he can get back up, but he's at -2 wound penalties.

Also, folks can make a Wits + Streetwise check as well. If we get at least five successes among the party, that will help you keep the upper hand over the gang members. This is a reflexive action so you can do it at any time.

[Exthalion]

There was no cloud of sand, no gang of thugs, not squalid slum... there was only the arrow and its target.

Shedhartu did not need to exhale to still himself: neither the frantic beating of his heart nor the quivering breath of his lungs disturbed his serenity. There was only the arrow and its target.

He didn't notice when he loosed the shaft, there was no him there to notice or decide. There was only the arrow and its target...

Dex 2 + Athletics 2 + Aim 2 + Quality (Unknown) - Specified Target (Leg) 2 = 4

[roll0]
Tens: [roll1]

Wits 2 + Streetwise 0 - Untrained 1 = 1
[roll2]
Tens: [roll3]

[stanleyindraven]

Wosret rose to his feet, angry and ready to wade into the fray.

[Mephit James]

We may have lost Aux-Ash with my flakiness.

As Wosret stands up amid the melee, Shedhartu sends a shaft into one of the gang member's legs, shredding the knee and bringing the man screaming to the ground.

Behind him, Tawatu watches the chaos of the cloud turn the street to a raging storm. She draws his own bow as the cultists rush out of the cellar and she takes aim at a nearby gang member.

Tawatu is aiming for this round.

I'll wait for more Wits + Streetwise results. We're up to two out of the five successes needed.