Welcome to Downtown Cavelier, Illinois. Situated along the Illinois River, somewhere west of Chicago, Cavelier is a growing city of about 200,000 people. It is home to Willis Airforce Base, The Lancelots professional Hockey franchise, and the infamous fast food chain Taco Bob's.
It’s Wednesday, the 26th of October, 2016. The time is 6:15 PM.
Outside, a light mist of rain fills the air, helping lower the unseasonably warm temperature to a more comfortable 68 degrees. Grant Philips, a local insurance consultant with an office in Commerce Building 1, a few blocks away, sits at the commissary of Maimon Medical Center, looking out a window at the rain. He could have gone to any number of restaurants Downtown after his latest appointment with the specialist, but honestly, that would involve more driving in downtown traffic, parking, and probably some walking, and he was just ready to be home. From here, he just needed to go to his car in the parking garage, with its covered walkway, and he was home free.
Meanwhile, Alexander Prost was just leaving the museum (conveniently for our story, this museum is just south of the Cavelier-UBI Arena, a block away from the previously mentioned Medical Center) via the employee entrance. He looks up at the misty rain for a moment before moving across the lot toward the parking garage across the street. He wasn’t a big fan of the “employees use the garage, customers use the front lot” rule, but at least it would keep the snow and ice off his car in the upcoming winter.
At about the same time, Chelsea Nguyen was locking up the Hot Topic store on State Street nearby. The young girl was a mix of Asian and caucasian features, short and very slender, but with wide shoulders and long dark hair, shaved up one side. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to close the store; she’d just turned 17, and wasn’t supposed to work on her own. But Heidi was 3 months pregnant, and had left on another one of her “emergencies.” So Chelsea promised to take care of the store the last hour. Shopping downtown had all but died at this time of night, anyway.
Suddenly, all three of our dramatis personae looked up. A bright flash to the east, unbelievably bright, left them blinking. They waited for the sound of thunder, but it never came. A few minutes later, the tornado sirens went off.
Looking up at the flash had been a mistake. Alexander rubbed away the flare from his eyes with a small whimper. He knew better than to look into the bright, flashy thing but nooo, he'd had to stare. What on earth made a glash of light like that, anyway? No sound meant no thunder or any kind of flash bang. Some kind of electrical discharge? Lighting only made a noise because of air displacement, right?
Still rubbing his eyes and blinking, Alexander took a moment to work out what the noise was all about when it began. He wasn't used to tornado warnings, frankly. Sometimes you had to consider whether it was actually a good idea to live somewhere where giant funnels of air would occasionally rip your home off its foundations and hurl it across town. Still, he seemed to recall some public buildings had shelters and such, and started looking for the nearest one.
Grant grumbled in frustration as he tried to blink away the spots in his eyes. It seemed his day was bound to get worse, as if the bad news from that woman wasn't enough. Not treatable? A lost cause? Bedridden in just a few years?! Honestly! He had half a mind to go back up thee and-
The sirens tore through his thoughts, doing away with anger and quickly replacing it with a sense of urgency. Was the storm really that bad? He could barely drive as is, and if there was a proper storm on it's way then he wouldn't be getting home at all? Damn- he had to call home and make sure Gabby was safe.
He reached for his cellphone, hand shaking, as he tried to find her on the contacts list and call.
Chelsea hesitates a few moments, not sure what to do. She knew the back room of the shop would offer some safety, but she'd already locked up. Work was over; she really didn't want to end up stuck there. She pulled out her phone to text Joshua, and walk-ran across State Street to the parking garage in front of the hospital. She paused long enough to catch a glimpse of a guy across the street, seemingly faced with the same decision she'd just made. Other than him, she didn't see anyone in the streets.
Odd that her messenger seemed to have bombed out...
Similarly to Chelsea, Grant finds some trouble attaching to a network to complete his call. A sudden mid-range hum fills the air, palpable to those outside as a slight push or wind. The lights flicker in the hospital, but stay on.
Alexander, having been halfway between the museum and the parking garage, decides the hospital probably has better facilities to ride out a storm than the cramped 50's era bomb shelter he imagined was under the museum, and it should be sufficiently reinforced against weather like this. As he finishes crossing South Street, instead of heading to the garage, he cuts toward the lights of the hospital.
As he does so, the humming sound hits him, along with a breeze and a foul odor. The street lights flicker but remain on, but most of the buildings (with the noticeable exception of the medical center) go dark.
He stared down at his phone in frustration, a curse on his lips. He trusted her enough to take care of herself while he wasn't there, but that didn't mean he couldn't worry. The storm must be picking up awfully fast for the lights to already start flickering, but he knew the hospital had to have generators somewhere to keep the place lit.
Putting his phone away with a plan to check on it periodically, he searched around for someone to talk to. There's probably some sort of protocol that the orderlies have to follow during a tornado watch.
Using his cane for leverage, he rose from his chair with a groan and started walking.
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Alexander looked around, sniffing. Well, that was promising. Apparently, the sewers were getting backed up and now electric had crapped out. This was promising to be a bad day. He just hoped the Museum's old stone architecture survived whatever was about the thrown at them. It wasn't exactly a light building, and it had survived this long, so...he headed for the hospital., which apparently had a backup generator, and hoped the building could look after itself.
Well that's just perfect... Lucretcia grumbles, her hand having just reached her car door before the flash and humming happened. She was tempted to just keep going anyway, but the blackouts forced her hand. First that Grand character and now THIS... and so on as she makes her way back toward the hospital and waiting for the ineveitable flood of morons that would injure themselves in the blackout, to say nothing of whatever natural disaster was about to hit this backwater.
Meanwhile, as Alexander walks quickly toward the hospital, security personnel are beginning to circulate among the people in the commissary and lobby, directing them toward stairs behind the escalators.
One of them, a short, stocky woman who looks alot like Melissa McCarthy playing Sean Spicer on SNL, reaches Grant and says, "Oh, sorry sir! Elevator is this way!
He tried his hardest to not be offput by the extreme amount of makeup she was wearing, or the bad tan. Instead, he coughed into his fist in affirmation before speaking, "Yes, thank you. Where is everyone being led to? The basement levels I assume?"
He didn't actually want to use the elevator at a time like this, but walking down the stairs didn't sound like a good idea either.
Nope, the woman shoots back dismissively, not giving the young girl a second glance as she marches on towards the medical center, I'd get inside though, you're not getting home any time soon.
Once inside the building, she marches up to the nearest nurse, indifferent to whatever they were doing at that time and demanding, Where's the dean? I suppose they'll want me stationed somewhere trivial, but I'd like to find out.
Alexander looked at the crowded stairs with mild horror. Crowds were never something he was fond of, and being crushed on the stairs was especially not of interest, but he didn't want to be riding anything mechanical if the back up generator copped it. So he headed for the stairs. And hoped everyone would behave.
Lucretia enters the lobby just behind Alexander, and with Chelsea coming in behind her. Just as they're entering the building, a thick greenish gas in the air. Unfortunately, the lobby area of the hospital is on a regular circulation system very similar to any normal office building. While the other floors have advanced filtration systems, down here, the stuff just seems to be slowly hazing over the air a little more slowly than outside.
As Lucretia listens to the nurse's answer, the young woman yawns wide in the middle of the statement, and slumps to the floor.
All around the lobby, people begin to panic; but before they have a chance to create much chaos, they all drop to the ground from the affects of the gas.
None of you (including Chelsea) seem to be affected at all, except that the gas slightly obscures your visions.
He takes a few steps back as he realizes the signs of a heavyset woman falling forward, narrowly avoiding an unpleasent fate himself. The gas in the air was extremely concerning, what kind of storm caused that? Were the sewers backing up?
Grant could see one doctor still standing, but god really seemed to be having an off day if it had to be her. Swallowing his pride, he made his way over to her, struggling to avoid the passed out people littering the lobbyway. "Dr. Santori, just what the hell is going on around here?"
As Grant walks over to Dr. Santori, he feels the muscles in his legs strength, the unsteadiness in his limbs, his whole frame, draining away. In fact, Grant cannot remember a time he felt this...strong.
As she sees Grant walking toward her, Lucretcia feels suddenly distracted. Her vision of what's in front of her fades, and "memories" of things she never knew or witnessed explode in her mind. Mystical symbols, ancient knowledge of means to manipulate reality, are all suddenly just "there."
Meanwhile, across the room, Alexander finds himself distracted in a different way, as the surface thoughts of the woman lying on the floor, seemingly in a deep slumber, flow into his mind.
Could use a suggestion here. Should I send you the abilities you've just received in a message and let you update your characters and role-play gaining your powers that way, or would your rather role-play trying to understand your abilities without the actual crunch to help you along?
If it helps you decide, you're about to face some opposition...
Personaly, I think it'd be more fun to experiment what we can do. Plus, that'd leave you the option to surprise us with new things if and when you want yourself.
The man stumbled forward, having not been used to this feeling for years. Understandably he felt shocked and confused, "Wha-what the hell?!"
Go with what amuses you most. It's how I GM. I also live on hatred and spite, however.
Alexander watched in confusion as most of the hospital fell asleep. Looking at the strange gas, he considered. I really wish I hadn't read Black Gas so recently now. This is not how I prefer my days to go. Strange lights, rumblings and gas...this story did not end well.
Moving towards the other people who were still standing, Alexander asked, "What's going on? Should we try shutting off the vents and stopping the gas?"
In addition to Grant and Dr Lucretcia Santori, who stand together, there is the black-haired teen who walked in and still stands, very confused, just to the left of the entrance looking around and the unconscious bodies, and two others paused as if they're considering running out the doors. Of these, the Dr and Grant seem the most like they've got it together, so Alexander makes for them. From Alexander's perspective, he rushes over to them, but feels slightly disoriented, as if he can't fully remember taking all the steps.
From Grant and Dr. Santori's perspective, Alexander suddenly disappears a few yards away, then reappears right in front of them and says "What's going on? Should we try shutting off the vents and stopping the gas?"
The doctor looks very different from the doctor Grant met just minutes before: rather than cool and confident, she is very clearly shaken by what she has just witnessed and looking as lost as Grant as she looks at her hands.
I don't... she begins before the second man appears to teleport next to her, causing her to nearly jump from her skin as she shouts, CHRIST ON HIGH, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT! quickly backing away from the man as she does.
This was wrong. He didn't like how she acted whenever he came in, but seeing his doctor look this dishelved was just wrong. Just what was going on around-
"Sweet Mary and Joseph-!" He shouts out, and reflexively swings his cane at the stranger who just blatantly violated the laws of time and space.
As Lucretcia steps back in shock at Alexander's sudden appearance, she reflexively whispers the word "clypeus!" And a translucent barrier appears between her and Alexander.
Meanwhile, across the room, Chelsea continues to stare out the window. She sees two very unusual and disturbing creatures flying toward the hospital.
Suddenly, they burst in the revolving door.
The two creatures hover clumsily in the doorway for an instant, before going to work. Of the two people who were considering running for their cars, one is immediately run through the center by the alien's sharp claw. The second one is grappled, and a second set of sharp claws begin vivisecting the unfortunate young man, who screams in pain.
Mi-Go: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Chelsea: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Grant: 1d20 ⇒ 9 [ooc]Yes, I got that right...Grant's Dex is now 10[/dice]
Alexander: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
Lucretcia: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
The creatures finish their emotionless dissection of the two hapless would-have-been heroes, cutting them to ribbons before turning their attentions to the others.
PCs may act.
A ten! How interesting. But ofc, he's still technically last in the initiative order. ;P
"God have mercy, what manner of demons are these?" Grant lamented, suddenly feeling much more religious then he was a few hours ago. He knew the smart and snae thing to do here would be to try and run for his life, there's no way a crippled man like him could have a ghost of a chance fighting these things. But there was something inside of him that whispered, maybe, just maybe he could take these on...
Knowing it was insane and unbelievable, he moved with grace he hadn't had since he was ten to strike one of the alien beings with his cane. "Out, get out of here! I don't know what you are but just get out!"
Attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
1d6 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
Took the liberty of re-rolling for you with your new 30 Strength (limited to the +4 attack bonus)
Grant's cane slams into the horrid beast, and literally rips thought it's defenses. Unfortunately, the cane cannot handle the force of Grant's strength, and snaps.
How... Lucretcia marvels for a moment as Grant does what should be difficult for a healthy weight lifter before remembering the problem at hand. Unsure of what to do, she holds out her hands at the creature Grant cracked and thinks, Blast! hoping that something beneficial will come to her to stop this thing's rampage.
Lucretcia things a single word: Blast! As she does, the word "Fulgur!" leaks from her lips in a whisper.
She is shocked as a powerful blast of lightning arcs from her hand toward the already wounded alien creature.
Reflex Save vs. Lightning Bolt (DC: 18)
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
6d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 2, 6, 2, 1) = 20
Grant barely manages to move to the side as the powerful bolt of mystical lightning slams into the alien attacker. It seems somewhat resistant to electrical energy, else it would be dead.
Alexander watched as the woman near him first threw up some kind of barrier, which was, of course, impossible, and then threw light which was, in fact, double plus impossible. Alexander was a trained scientist, archaeologists being expected to do more than raid tombs, and knew for a fact people didn't throw light.
Which was just as well, since the woman across from him then threw lightning. And now another guy was the Hulk.
So...apparently he'd either taken a blow to the head, or the gas was doing some funny things to him because clearly he was tripping like that time someone had given him the wrong brownies before a job interview. Still, Dreams or Hallucinations or whatever, the funny alien things were probably not a good sign either.
"Go away?" he suggests, waving a hand at one of the creatures in a bemused fashion.
Alex extends his mind half-heartedly toward the beleaguered alien beast attacking the Asian girl.
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
The creature immediately begins a sickly buzzing noise, and bounces furtively to the left and right, as if uncertain how to act.
The alien whom Grant whacked strikes back weakly.
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
1d4 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
The creature's scalpel-like claw misses Grant entirely. The other creature simply moves back and forth, confused by the mental energy Alex put forth.
Grant takes several uneasy steps backwards, trading looks between the creature and what remained of his cane. He only now noticed just how much lighter it seemed before, as if he was holding a cardboard tube rather then good few pounds solid wood. If that was any indication to just how hard he struck that creature, then no wonder it snapped like a twig.
He tossed it aside, holding up his hand in a very poor imitation of a boxer's defensive stance. He didn't know how to fight, armed or otherwise, but he'd feel a lot more confident with something weighty in his hands then fists alone. For this reason, he tried to look for something usable as a weapon while keeping himself between the creature and those nearby.
Full defense, while trying to spot a suitable temporarily replacement.
Alexander considered. The creature seemed to have tried to do what he'd suggested, but it hadn't gone as well as it could have. Maybe it needed a more explicit order, or more force behind it. Or maybe confusion was the best this dream could do, which would make sense, given everything else was confusing.
"You," Alexander said in a loud, authoritive voice. He pointed towards the wounded creature. "Attack that one."
Grant backs off, and notes the spiral staircase off to his right has what appear to be stainless steel railing supports. If he can work one of those free...giving his newfound strength a try, Grant finds it fairly easy to pry one bar free of the stairwell to treat as a club. It should last longer than the cane did.
Another of Grant's abilities is to ignore 10 points of an object's hardness when damaging objects. FYI, you also have a slam attack for 1d6, though I can see the RP reasons Grant would be hesitant to punch these things.
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Shocked by the lightning errupting from her hands, the doctor pauses for a moment to look at them to be sure they weren't burned. As she takes the moment, she realizes what the word she just said meant. She points her hands back at the creature again before shouting, Ignis! hoping her hunch is on the right track.
A couple ways I can go with that one...I'm going to choose the one that doesn't roast Grant...
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
4d6 ⇒ (4, 4, 3, 4) = 15
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
4d6 ⇒ (6, 6, 6, 2) = 20
Two beams of fire energy lance out at the creatures, cutting into them with a grotesque stench as of burning fungus. Yet the remain.
Top of round 3
At this point, the alien that was "commanded" by Alexander...
1d20 ⇒ 4
...manages to act normally. Its mission not yet complete, it moves to attack Chelsea.
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24
1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
It successfully hits the young woman, but just before it connects, a field of light instantly surrounds her, and its hit causes no damage. It buggers his attempt to grab her as well.
The second creature, nearest Grant...
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22
1d4 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Lances out with a sharp claw, hitting Grant in the stomach. However, the razor sharp claw of the alien rebounds of Grant's toughened skin (Grant now has DR 6/-).
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
The alien tries instead to grab onto Grant, but Grant's strength far overpowers the creature.
Grant jumps to the side as twin beams of fire race towards the creature in front of him. Stunned, he doesn't react fast enough to avoid one of them striking with a ripping of fabric. Yet there was no pain. Feeling the torn edges of his ruined shirt, there's no blood or pain.
"What in God's name has happened to us...?"
There wasn't much time to wait for someone to answer, so he gets the makeshift club into both hands and swings.
attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19
damage: 1d6 + 15 ⇒ (4) + 15 = 19
The horrid beast virtually explodes under the pressure of Grant's powerful attack, leaving only one confused one.
Note I house-ruled to two-handed damage bonus away (trying to encourage fisticuffs, which are heavy in the genre), but your damage is still easily enough to destroy this one.