Napalm wipes the sweat from his forehead and kicks the body of the Dretch. "Stay down." He turns and moves to the base of the stairs, pulling out a flask of acid.
Midnight doesn't seem to hear Lucas' call for Taskmaster to surrender, she seems absolutely focused on taking the villain out. She throws another blast of concussive air.
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Trystt snaps her wrist, wrapping her scarf around her arm again. Then she leaps off the wall, and using the corner of the cell, swings herself over the head of the dretch to land on the far side of it. She spins low as she lands, her scarf darting out at the creature's legs.
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Trystt snaps her wrist, wrapping her scarf around her arm again. Then she leaps off the wall, and using the corner of the cell, swings herself over the head of the dretch to land on the far side of it. She spins low as she lands, her scarf darting out at the creature's legs.
Grimacing in pain as another blast strikes him, Taskmaster snatches a hypo-spray from his belt and presses it against his neck, almost breathing a sigh of relief as he does so.
The remaining Dretch meanwhile continues to focus on Trystt.
Hit
Her balletic movements avoid the attacks but as she twists this time a claw rakes across her back.
Watching Taskmaster with his healing drug, Midnight's eyes narrow further.
You might have a utility belt full of them, it won't save you from getting what's coming to you!
Yet more of the floor buckles around Taskmaster as the rapidly hurled air smashes another tile.
Midnight stares at her own hands, unbelieving
I must say I'm beginning to harbor a grudge against the unique atmospheric properties of Earth and how they are
She growls
Napalm throws his acid flask up toward the Taskmaster on the balcony. "Let's see how well you can dodge these!"
Taskmaster bats aside the flask of acid that Napalm throws with the long shaft of his bow. It fizzles harmlessly against the wall.
Spore, getting frustrated, continues his assault, forgoing accuracy for power:
======
Spore continues striking, hoping the thing falls soon.
"Trystt, fall back if you have to!" he yells
Seeing Trystt clawed by the Dretch is the last straw for Spore. One of his vine snakes out around the Dretches' waist and hoists the little gremlin into the air. Another then wraps around it as the hulking plant-creature holds it aloft. Then, with a savage twist him smashes the Dretch into the door of the cell beside him.
Though the plexi-glass is designed to stop a .357 slug at close range, the Dretch crashes through it like it were drywall only to smash into the wall opposite and crumple in a bleeding, unconscious heap.
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Trystt barely has time to grimace in pain before Spore sends the dretch crashing through the cell. Her grimace quickly transforms into a smile. "Nice job, big guy, and thanks! Now here's something for the other guards." Trystt puts her arms out to the side and excites the water molecules in the area causing them to coalesce into a mist before moving towards the stairs that she saw before.
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Ebon steps forward locking eyes on the Taskmaster, he moves to grab the man attempting to grapple him.
Fail
As he knocks the flask of acid aside, it bursts on the wall beside him and scorches the sie of Taskmaster's face and arm.
He hisses in pain and as Ebon closes in, he withdraws back along the balcony, creating distance between the pair.
Spore watches the Archer apparently fleeing along the balcony above, and instead of giving chase, flattens himself along the wall, prepared to ambush the man if he drops down the balcony!
Ebon follows the Taskmaster along the balcony and readies himself if he comes back at him. "It's over."
As the others move in to position to follow him, Midnight soars upwards and throws another bolt of air at Taskmaster.
Napalm rushes up the stairs so he can keep the Taskmaster in view. "Surrender and this can all be over! We won't hurt you!" He pulls out a grenade, knowing the likelihood of the villain giving up was slim.
Rather than surrender Taskmaster does what he always has, and fights. He spins and sends another pair of arrows at Midnight, in his desperation his aim is truer and these punch home.
Surrender ta what? I can't tell you nothin' don't even know nothin.' So let's just do this dance and be done with it! he shouts through his mask.
Hit
Hit
Hit
Hit
Even the swirling wind around her cannot stop the shots and the arrows cut through the Peacekeeper garb and into Midnight's flesh!
"Fine, we can do it the hard way then!" Napalm hurls another canister of liquid nitro at the man.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Ebon moves forward closing down on the Taskmaster wanting to end this now. "So be it." He jumps at the man attempting to wrap him up.
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Trystt concentrates on the bowman, disrupting his thought patterns.
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A burst of incredible cold washes over Taskmaster. It is all he can do to keep his limbs moving at all as Napalm's device explodes at his feet.
Despite Taskmaster's aim, the arrows barely nick Midnight's toughened skin, though she growls even louder as more of the black fabric covering her gets shredded.
Despite Taskmaster's aim, the arrows barely nick Midnight's toughened skin, though she growls even louder as more of the black fabric covering her gets shredded.
[dice=kinetic blast] 1d20 + 5 + 1
[dice=bludgeoning] 1d6 + 4 + 1 + 1[dice=crit?] 1d20 + 5 + 1
[dice=crit damage] 1d6 + 4 + 1 + 1
Taskmaster turns from the overwhelming odds facing him and with one hand on the railing, leaps down to the ground floor below.
He is in obvious pain as he does so but seeing little option but to take the fall, he grits his teeth and hurls himself over.
Fail
But he is so injured that he can barely find the strength to topple over the balcony, let alone land with any grace. He crashes to the hard ground below.
and
As he slams into the cold tiled floor there is an audible crack as his knee gives way beneath him. Struggling to rise, Spore needs so little more than use his vines to restrain the villain before he goes limp and slips into unconsciousness.
Midnight drifts back down to the floor once it's clear Spore has Taskmaster all wrapped up.
Well I suggest we call the authorities, if this doesn't constitute a crime of some sort I don't know what does...
She glances around
...I now recall there was a significant amount of gunfire from the area behind us... I am slightly concerned the noise may herald someone intent on punishing these wrongdoers...
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"Are we reporting the 'trespassing', the 'breaking and entering', or the 'assault and battery'?," teases Trystt. "I think we may want to wait a minute. Let's figure out where the kidnapped people are. Is he conscious?," Trystt asks, indicating the bowman. "We should check the cells and the truck outside, too."
Spore holds the unconscious man tightly to his chest, having wrapped both arms around him as tightly as he could.
"Let's make it quick, that door might not hold long..." he rumbles.
Spore holds the unconscious man tightly to his chest, having wrapped both arms around him as tightly as he could.
"Let's make it quick, that door might not hold long..." he rumbles.
"Huh...strangely quiet, right? I'll check the door to the outside. Be ready, please, in case that's where they went."
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[dice=Per: Traps(Take 10)]10+15
[dice=Disable Device(Take 10)]10+13
"Shield will understand when we show them all this, we'll report to them." He points around at the cages and the creatures.
"But I agree, let's make sure the place is secured first." He moves down and next to trust.
As the others catch their breath and secure the scene, Trystt checks the steel double doors that lead to a flat loading dock on the south side of this makeshift prison.
Satisfied that they are not trapped, she stretches up on one foot to reach a heavy deadbolt and pulls it sideways before giving a little noise of exertion as she shoves the heavy door. Spore appears at her side and with a viney-arm pushes it open easily looking down at his friend with a leafy smile.
Beyond the doors is a single port with enough space for large vehicles such as the one currently parked before it. It is an older model Ford e450 box truck, certainly very similar to the one you saw previously enter the compound.
It is parked in reverse with the box facing the loading dock doors and the roller-shutter of the box is half-way raised.
He looks outside standing behind Spore and Trystt. "You take a look at the truck I'm going to have a listen at the other door." Ebon then walks back to the way they came in moving slowly he listens at the door.
He looks outside standing behind Spore and Trystt. "You take a look at the truck I'm going to have a listen at the other door." Ebon then walks back to the way they came in moving slowly he listens at the door.
[dice=Perception]1d20+8
The door looks badly damaged, buckling from the outside in where the guards were hammering against it.
Several neat holes have been bored through the door. Akio follows the trajectory of one and sees a large pack of sugar on the counter the other side of the room, slowly leaking its contacts into a tidy pile on the counter.
He steps in something wet then and looks down at his foot, only to see he is standing in a large and growing pool of thick, bright blood.
"Lets look around before we leave.
Shift will check out the cells, then move onto the truck.
[dice=perception,cells]1d20+6
[dice=perception,truck]1d20+6
Rob moves to the first cell before shifting round to the next and then once again, the last time teleporting up onto the balcony to get an overhead view.
The cells are all the same, incredibly basic and makeshift in every way. But still effective of course. He determines that whoever was held in them probably would only be temporarily.
Aside from crumpled sheets and the smell of sweat and waste there is no other sign of occaption.
Trystt smiles ruefully. "Thanks, buddy. Pushing stuff around is not my strength." She winks and giggles at her own joke. "You got it, Ebon. Oh, is anyone injured?"
Trystt checks the truck.
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[dice=Per]1d20+14
It is immediately apparent to Trystt that the lock on the back of the truck has been broken into, the metal buckled as though forced with a tool.
Peering inside, Trystt sees two wooden bench on either side of the box. A steel rail runs the length of each and there are faint scratches on the rail.
The cab itself is shut but a clear and bloody handprint, the blood still fresh and running in rivulets, stands out on the driver's side door