GM Shady's Legacy of Eagles (Inactive)

Game Master shady18

"Easy? A victory maybe, but surely a pyrrhic one. " as he looks over the wreckage of the helicopter which held their contact.

listening to the giant, he activates his internal com "we need restraints for the captured enemy immediately"

As he places one heavy foot upon Python to keep her in place, the giant notes Challenger's melancholic tone;

"Fie frēond Challenger! Those lost are heroes are they not? High does their bæl-fire burn... And so we shall mourn their passing with draughts of medu and sorrow!"

Spellbound, unused to the specter of death, remains silent, staring at the pyre of the wreckage.

Longbow will step into view, secure, and then check the bad guys for vitals, starting with Python and Frostorm, then moving to the minions, all without saying a word.

To the south, a single white Chinook can be seen and heard, whirring over the trees. As it nears, the sky nearby seems to shimmer, and four other similar helicopters appear from what seems to be nowhere, suddenly flying in perfect formation.

The comm crackles again.

"Golf Hotel One, this is November Foxtrot, leading Delta 20 November Wing. De-cloaking is complete, we are landing in force. We will meet you on the ground."

The gunships land in a semicircle at about a 100 yard radius south of the white truck. Two of them disgorge troops, about forty emerging from the rear of each helicopter. The first group runs in the direction of the still-burning wreck of November Kilo, the second in the direction of the Golden Heroes, and their new captives.

From the second pair of helicopters, a number of blue jump-suited individuals emerge, several bearing the blue and white insignia of DICE's Delta 8 Science Division. These are pulling behind them several large, human sized canisters and one particularly large, complex-looking black machine.

A single individual, obviously an officer, jumps from the final helicopter, almost before it has completed landing. He runs towards the site of the battle, but stops running, and slows to an easy walk, when he gets within a distance where he can make himself heard without shouting.

He smiles, pleasantly and calmly.

"Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Her Majesty's Government, my thanks. I should introduce myself. My name is Commander Charles Hawthorne."

Challenger snaps a neat salute.

"Hostiles have been defeated. There have been substantial casualties among our support staff. No casualties among friendly combatants. "

"Easy? A victory maybe, but surely a pyrrhic one."

"Yes, unfortunate, but I was mostly referring to how Protector went down. He just babbled for a while, then the machinery in their truck made some noises, and he collapsed. It was almost too easy, don't you think?"

When the Commander arrives, Lightning Blade only gives him a polite nod.

Eoten keeps his foot firmly placed on Python as he watches the white Chinook arrive. He eyes the others with interest, their comms speaking the crackling words, which he thankfully is free from having destroyed his own infernal ear-piece.

When Commander Hawthorn approaches and announces himself, the giant nods and touches hand to forelock in greeting;

"Ho-Ho! A Sand of the Queen of Albion! You, she, Albion itself is welcome Leóf Hawthorn! Was but a trifling battle for such as us."

Sand in Old English is envoy or ambassador; leóf is a formal address :)

Gracie nods to the commander. "Hello, commander. Honestly, the most damage was done by those big guns. The... "enhanced" persons here seemed mostly for show. As for Protector... he was just watching, and then started to.... I don't know, chant. If he'd attacked us I expect this would have gone differently."

She rubs her hands, trying to get full feeling back into her body after having been hit by Frostorm's blast.

"You're not wrong Gracie."

Juliana is overwhelmed by the sudden ingress of troops and merely nods in response to the others. She remains quiet and contemplative.

Hawthorne looks grimly at the scene. "The carrier over there ..." he nods in the direction of the white truck ... "... contains a constraint field. My guess is that they jammed the constraint field, enough to allow Anderson to wake up and break out, but not enough to go haywire. They'd have had to destroy it completely for that, though I'm assuming that was the real intent, otherwise the entire thing makes no sense. Your arrival complicated matters. Why they wanted Anderson to go haywire is another matter. We should get you into the choppers and debrief in London. We'll put you in separate groups, you should pair up. They'll travel cloaked."

At the site of the battle, behind you, the enemy soldiers are being tied up and constrained. Python is being loaded into one of the white canisters. The DICE personnel restrain Frostorm, knocking him out with some kind of electrical device, applied at close quarters to the back of his head. He's also loaded into a canister.

"Don't worry, you'll see them again," says Hawthorne. "We'll interrogate them at HQ. Unless there are any questions, I suggest you embark. I'll try to ensure what questions you do have are answered when we arrive, however."

The trip back to London is going to be a fairly quiet affair, and the cloaking technology prevents communications between the helicopters. So ask now, but it's clear also you'll have the chance to have questions heard on arrival.

Eoten relinquishes the fallen Python with n'er a glower.

Then as their vehicular return is outlined, the shaggy head of the giant nods slowly, as if responding to a silent question;

It is Æthelweard's time now.

In a low grumbling tongue Eoten speaks ancient words...

"Slúma sy uppan mé. Eoten slúma ond árísan edníwe..."

As the last word dies on his lips, the giant crouches forward, groaning - his bulk shifting and moving; then clearly lessening with each pained "pop" of sinew and bone...

... and in his place stands, once again, Professor Æthelweard.

Draped in his heavy fur coat that the giant wore as a mere pelt, his forehead a sheen of pained sweat, the lanky academic blinks slowly.

Then with some effort composes himself and stands his lanky frame straight.

"Quite the adventure eh? I trust my... alter ego showed himself to be a boon to our endeavours?"

"Yes, he was effective in the tussle. " he responds as he boards on of the choppers.

As they board, Gracie goes over to Spellbound, noticing how quiet she is. "You okay? A... a lot just happened very quickly."

"Things happen quickly all the time in this business. It's how you handle them that matters." says Longbow to Gracie.

Gracie shoots Longbow a "you're not helping" glare and awaits the young woman's reply.

The Professor also boards, awkwardly seating himself in the chopper.

At Challenger's affirmation Æthelweard arches an eyebrow as he nods slowly;

"Good tidings that bode well..."

The lanky academic looks at the wreckage wrought as the team's chopper lifts off, musing on what occurred as he does;

"I... remember snippets... although feel I watched the "tussle" through a fog or on a cinematic screen rather than was part of it. Detached I think the analytical term is... How did the rest of you fare?"

"I'm... I will be... fine. It's just a lot to take in, is all. I mean, those people in the other helicopter. Those poor people. And all of this? I knew that there must be others like me, but I never imagined myself involved in a battle where people were actually getting hurt... or killed!"

"Personally, I'd like to get a look at the technology that they are using to keep one of the most powerful beings in the world unconscious. That kind of tech in the wrong hands could be incredibly dangerous."

"I'm... I will be... fine. It's just a lot to take in, is all. I mean, those people in the other helicopter. Those poor people. And all of this? I knew that there must be others like me, but I never imagined myself involved in a battle where people were actually getting hurt... or killed!"

Gracie nods, her face twisting in sadness at thought of the loss of life, now that there's time for it to sink in. "I know. And you shouldn't have to be involved in such things either--no one should. But people like us tend to get sucked into things like that sooner or later." She shakes her head. "Those bloody cowards! Firing on those poor people. Why didn't they target us? Not that I would have wanted that either, but... none of what happened makes sense."

"Personally, I'd like to get a look at the technology that they are using to keep one of the most powerful beings in the world unconscious. That kind of tech in the wrong hands could be incredibly dangerous."

Gracie looks over at Longbow. "The wrong hands already have tech that blocks it. That's incredibly dangerous too--and means they know about what the government's got."

Lightning Blade nods at Gracie. "Yes, it was cowardly of them to attack the civilians in the chopper. But, to be frank, they were there because of us. Perhaps in the future we should find a means of communication that doesn't put so many people in harm's way."

"We have enough to worry about without having to protect a chopper full of bystanders."

"The police communicate without having a chopper hover over every beat cop on the street. The chopper may have housed the frequency, but the government wouldn't spend that much money on something that only served as a flying communications unit. They probably had some means of support to help us deal with Protector, but what, I don't know, and I reckon it's above our pay grade. Or they really are that inefficient. Either or."

There are supposed to be 2 per chopper and no communication between choppers. A three way talk is not supposed to be happening, which is why I am not going to break things further to four. Since I have been talking to the professor, I assume he's on my bird.

to the prof "No casualties on our team of supers. The normals with us didn't fare so well. "

Makes sense - Challenger and the Professor in one bird...

Æthelweard looks forlorn for a moment, then smiles awkwardly;

"Mmmm. Not good... Every cloud and all that though..."

He turns things back to the combat, and more specifically Protector;

"Mr Challenger... Did you catch what the golden chap was jabbering about? Others mentioned he was shouting and raving like a Bedlam inmate! I vaguely recollect him saying something, but my brutish alter-ego has not allowed the words to resonate..."

"He was saying something like 'Devorado is coming', but I have no idea what that means. Outside of my area of competence. I hope someone can figure it out. If Protector is broken to something like that, we're in a lot of trouble. "

I presume some of what we've said could be said before the boarding finished--and or resumed once we landed. The narrative's played fast and loose with where we've been when saying things before, so I figured there was some leeway. But I'll restrict myself to talking to Spellbound from now on until we get the say-so from Shady to move on.

Æthelweard muses Challenger's recital of the insane heroes ramblings, searching perhaps for some significance from his own studies;

Expertise - Myth & Legend: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (12) + 15 = 27

"Mmmm. Interesting... Devorado is coming... What else did he say old chap?"

"He just kept repeating that like a broken record. "

Lightning Blade finds himself paired up with Longbow, much to his dismay.

This is going to be a quiet ride.

Apologies for the delay.

As the helicopters leave the battle scene, and rise into the air, through the windows work can still be seen on the ground, one group of soldiers sifting through the wreckage of the downed November Kilo, another surrounding the blue truck. The white truck is disconnected from its cab and linked to the black machine that came out of one of the choppers on landing. The combination is then lifted by one of the remaining helicopters, which follows with the group.

The flight from North-eastern England to London takes about two hours, though once in London airspace the navigation becomes more complex. DICE headquarters sits in a large building by Vauxhall Bridge*; the pad on the roof has comfortable space for landing several helicopters at once, though for some reason they land at intervals.

As each group lands, they are ushered inside, and into small elevators. The party finally regroups, apparently several floors down, in a large meeting room overlooking the River Thames.

After a few minutes, Hawthorne enters, along with a couple of other senior DICE officers (one male, one female) and an orderly bringing a tray of tea and several plates of biscuits, which he arranges along and around the large glass-topped table that makes up much of the room.

Hawthorne nods to the other officers. "Ladies and gentlemen, these are Lieutenants Isherwood and Crane**, both of Delta 20."

He nods to the male and female officer in turn, to indicate that the former is Isherwood and the latter Crane. Each of them has a large A4 foolscap pad and a pen. Then he continues.

"This is, I'm afraid, going to be slightly formal. We need to debrief you. Could each of you please give me a report on what transpired back in North Yorkshire? Don't worry about repeating something that someone else said, it still may be useful; don't worry if your view is inconsistent with one of the others, because, well, ditto; and if something struck you as interesting please raise it. There are a few things here that don't make sense."

"When we have, so to speak, collected up our little bundle of mysteries, we're going to have a word with Mister Frostorm, who seems willing to speak to us, up to a point, anyway. You're welcome to join us for that."

*: where the real-life MI6/SIS building is located, though that building wasn't finished till 1994. The in-game version would have been built in the 1960s and probably looks more like BT Tower, or something in the style of Thunderbirds.

**: note Lieutenant is pronounced "Leftenant" in the British army.

Should add - Æthelweard - Devorado turns up nothing.

Æthelweard accepts his tea from the orderly, then divides his attention between listening intensely to Commander Hawthorne and fishing for a custard cream or garibaldi on the biscuit plates.

For those non-Brits the Custard Creams and Garibaldi biscuits are bastions of the British tea-time. Figured our curmudgeonly Professor would be no different :)

As a man used to delivering detailed expositions, Æthelweard tells his tale betwixt bites of biscuit;

”What transpired indeed… Alas some of what I recall is rather hazy… an unfortunately side-effect of my alter ego. If necessary I can arrange that yourself or the good lieutenants hear his side of things, however I would exercise caution in such a course as his patience and eloquence can be tested in a scenario such as this… even with such bloody good biscuits!”

The Professor finishes another bite, then continues;

”I do remember an explosion, which resulted in an annoying screech and crackle in that ear-communications do-dah that you gave us all. I seem to have mislaid mine… apologies do hope they aren’t too expensive! Anyway I digress… I believe my alter ego engaged the scurrilous villains…”

Æthelweard’s words tail off as he loses himself in memory fog of the combat;

…. I… He laid low the woman I think. I feel her body buckle under his fists and frustration… Apart from that Mr Challenger here told me that the Protector chap kept shouting madly, chanting that “Devorado is coming! or some such. And something else… think he mentioned Dogger-something too… Yes. I… He heard it… Doggerland.”

The Professor shrugs, then scowls as his dunked biscuit falls off into his cuppa;

”Balderdash. Perhaps the others can provide more… tactical acumen to the tale.”

Hawthorne nods as the Professor is speaking, occasionally casting distracted looks out of the window across the Thames, as though looking for something. The two junior officers both write down, using a kind of shorthand notation, what the Professor is saying, presumably verbatim.

At the end, he says: "Hmm, Devorado, Doggerland. We'll get those checked out. Anyone else?"

"I... I'm afraid that I wasn't of much use," Spellbound says. "We disembarked in a hurry. They practically shoved us out of the helicopter. There were some shots exchanged between both sides, and then rockets hit the helicopter, which went down beyond the hill. I tried to help, but my attacks were ineffective. I was preparing to investigate the crash site, when reinforcements arrived."

"What strikes me as odd was that the big fellow, Protector, just hovered there throughout the battle. He made no move to escape or attack us."

Hawthorne nods. "Thank you, Miss, er West, isn't it? Don't worry about your effectiveness, there will be other situations where your skills come to the fore, I'm sure. This is about working as a team. And, over time, there are probably some areas where we can help you with your, er, powers. As for Anderson, I think he was held in check by the dampener, albeit its effect was reduced by your antagonists' jamming equipment. Had they destroyed the containment vehicle completely, who knows what would have happened? But you managed to act as sufficient distraction that they tried to take you out first. The same goes for the unfortunate people in that helicopter."

He pauses and grimaces.

"No, the interesting things here are, firstly, who were these people and what do they want? Their attack vehicle, it seems, was their strongest asset. And it was unmanned. Their troops, even their metahumans, seem to have been mere distractions themselves. They don't seem to have had a containment vessel on their own vehicle, so it would seem the intention was to release Anderson, well, back into the wild, so to speak. And secondly, this gibberish from Anderson: what does that mean? Has it anything to do with these people? These phrases, these terms, never came up before. And thirdly ... well, we'll come to the third set of issues after this debriefing."

"Well, it seems my colleagues have mentioned everything that would be of interest to you. I was mostly engaged in the fight itself, so I could talk at great length about our opponents' abilities, but I imagine you'll learn about them yourselves during our chat with Frostorm."

He takes a sip of his tea, looking surprisingly calm for someone so energetic.

"Mmm. To his credit, he was quite a spirited fighter. I'd bet that he has more stake in this whole thing than some hired mercenary would."

Finally speaking at length for the first time, Longbow's accent seems out of place amongst the variety of brit dialects.

"To begin with, our coordination could have been better, although for a group of heroes thrown together at the last minute, we didn't do that bad. The enhanced people and their minions, however, seems to have about as much coordination as we did." Longbow pauses for a moment, then continues: "It seems clear to me that you have a mole somewhere in your organization. It's the only way they could know the transporation route. Additionally, they seemed to know that disabling the engine of the vehicle would allow Anderson to get free."

Longbow again pauses, and then finishes with "As for who the mole is, I'd look for someone who has access to information but is not in a decision-making position."

Longbow ceases to speak again, and after a few moments it's clear he's done speaking altogether.

Challenger will give a detailed debrief, having been through this many times in the past. It will give a play by play of the action. I will spare you and me the cutting and pasting from the previous posts

"In summary, we entered into a compromised situation, without adequate preparation or planning, and our support element suffered the cost of all that. We seemed to have escaped based on luck and enemy error as much as anything. I recommend a program of unit training, and as Longbow said, a close check on the chain of information handling to see where we might be compromised. "

At the mention of unit training, the Professor splutters into his teacup and shoots Challenger a jaundiced look;

"Dear boy. You and our American friend here might savour the blood and thunder of tactical manoeuvring, but I can assure you that neither I, nor my brutish counterpart would seek to take part in such bellicose activities..."

Biting into his garibaldi biscuit with an air of egoism (if one can portray such a thing crunching a biscuit) Æthelweard continues;

"I should delineate my stance somewhat... I, am a Professor... an academic... a researcher and historian... and damned fine one to-boot! Martial pursuits are not my forte you understand?"

He then flashes a hard smile;

"However my... alter ego revels in such scenarios... however he is more of a force of nature... Full of fervour and sizeable ire so-to-speak... Alas, as a Giant of Albion, he does not follow orders well..."

He glances over at the professor, then turns back to the officer "That remains my recommendation. If elements of the team are incapable of training as a unit, they may amount to liabilities in future endeavors. "

Hawthorne nods. "Our experience with these matters is that it's difficult to train a team of enhanced for combat. Each of you is unique; each combination of you is also unique. It would have been far better, admittedly, to have engaged in some exercises. But Golf Hotel Wave Two is far from ready, even less so than you. And there is ... processing we have to do, with all of you, before we can even get to this point. You had already passed those tests, we don't have others in that position. We have to trust you implicitly, as Mister Longbow here amply implies. We are where we are."

There's a knock on the door to the room, from outside. Isherwood stands up, goes over and opens the door. An orderly walks in, hands a note to Isherwood and waits patiently, as Isherwood in turn hands it to Hawthorne.

Hawthorne glances at the note, frowns and then, obviously, reads it again. "Hmm," he murmurs. "It looks like another complication just entered our particular can of worms."

He turns to the window and makes a brief gesture with his right hand. The view of the Thames disappears, and the adventurers realise that the window, and the landscape beyond, was an illusion. Sitting the other side of the glass are several individuals, currently shrouded in darkness.

"Professor Farthingram," says Hawthorne, obviously addressing one of the individuals on the other side of the glass, "you'd better come in here. We'll also need some Delta 100 forms. And Eraserhead."

The figures beyond the glass seem to move more urgently, up and out of the room they currently occupy.

Lightning Blade has a momentary look of concern when the words "Delta 100" are mentioned, but quickly reverts to his usual smirk.

"Ah, good, I was starting to get bored."

Here's my well-informed check on Eraserhead:

1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22

Having been in intel for some time and used to being treated as a mushroom, Challenger just sits and waits for something relevant to do, orders, or to be dismissed.

Gracie chews on her thoughts silently for some time, and is momentarily distracted as the scene around them changes, and the observers are revealed. Once the unnerving revelation of being watched passes, she shakes her head and sighs.

While Hawthorne awaits Farthingham, Gracie leans over to Challenger.

"Challenger," she says--quietly, though not exactly secretively. "They may not be willing to put us through a training program--I speak government bureaucracy fluently and what I heard Hawthorne say clearly is they don't want to spare the funds for it--but that doesn't mean we can't do something. You're a trained soldier. Could you maybe put something together for us? Obviously not a whole program, but some kind of practice? Just so we can see what each other can do and figure out how we can back each other up. Especially as you, me, and Eoten all can toss cars and the like, we don't to step on each other's toes, literally or figuratively."

"I'm willing to train those willing to be trained, though I probably need a place to do it which can handle it. With our levels of enhanced strength, we are rather rough on the scenery. I don't think the professor was interested though. "

Gracie nods, conceding. "If they're willing of course. I'm sure the effects we have on 'the scenery' is probably why they don't want to arrange it. But I'm sure there's something we could find..." She smiles wryly. "If Doctor Who's not filming,* maybe there's a disused quarry we could use."

*Her suggestion was a joke, but FWIW, it wouldn't be, as, while it was currently airing, it was about to go on hiatus. :)

Lightning Blade scoffs, having leaned across the table to listen in on Gracie and Challenger. "I can train myself, thank you very much. If you would like me to attend your little sessions so that you can admire my skill, I would be happy to oblige."

"So you can train to work as a team by yourself? Oh yes, I would surely like to see that skill. " he replies in a very sarcastic manner.