We will begin with you being pretty much sucked out of whatever you are doing into the inciting incident for the first adventure. Feel free to make a post over the weekend about what your character is up to. Could be a moment in your secret ID, or a moment of typical hero stuff for your hero. This is just a chance to flex your muscle, introduce us to your character, your motus operandi, etc. If you don't have time with the holiday weekend, no worries. I'll get things going on Monday.
Indeed, that would be helpful. My bad. It has been a week of cool temps and scattered storms, with a hell of a thunderstorm overnight. But as the sun rises, the clouds are parting and it looks to be a beautiful spring day in Freedom City.
A relieved smile rested on Max's face. He had just dropped off his honors thesis on an esoteric magical theory about the transmutation of material actually being translocation of material across parallel dimensions. He doubted his teacher would understand it but knew that it be given to Adrian Eldritch to grade. Maxwell Athersmith Sinclair was a couple of weeks from graduating from the Claremont Academy and life couldn't be better.
He sat in the Zen Gardens of the Academy reading a book. His skin was almost pasty having not seen much of the sun, but the day was so beautiful after the hell of a thunderstorm last night to spend in the library, his usual haunt. We was an unremarkable twenty-one year old: not quite six feet tall, lean build, short shaggy dark brown hair, boring clothes. The book was a thick tome of vellum bound by leather of a questionable mammal. It was written in ancient Latin, but he was using magic to read and understand it, as he had for almost two decades.
Max was half reading the treatise on a disproven magical theory about flight and half thinking about his summer returning home. He had never investigated the neighborhood and wondered where in the United Kingdom, the priory was. Now he wants to find the local pub and explore. His position at the Hunter Museum of Natural History doesn't start until September, so he planned to take it easy this summer.
Sitting in his office Æthelweard’s brow furrowed ever deeper. Piles of journals, bound paperwork and folders balanced precariously upon his heavy English Oak desk.
Most bore the seal or stamp of Hunter Museum of Natural History, but the two documents he was intensely scrutinising were neither. One was an overly verbose letter from one Maxwell Athersmith Sinclair, the museum’s new research intern. The lad came highly recommend from the Claremont Academy - his tutors had provided excellent references, yet it was not that which troubled him. As research curator, he would have to supervise the intern, which could cause unnecessary complications, should his… "other" be required… Still as a graduate of Claremont, Master Sinclair would potentially understand more than most… Indeed. "Best take the measure, then test the mettle" as the old saying went.
The frown eased on his forehead, before returning with a vengeance when he noted the second missive bore the gilded notepaper bearing the seal of CC&C: Cabot, Cunningham and Crowley. Freedom City's foremost (and infamous) law firm. It was their London office that was handling the affairs of his family estate back in the UK.
Eyes flicking as he read the line after line of legalese, Æthelweard’s knuckles whitened in angered frustration as he muttered a paraphrasing;… funds required…, …castle’s disrepair…, …legal obligation as priorship of Langfellow family as Baronet’s of St. Micheal’s Mount…, … reneging… could result in the Crown reclaiming the estate… CC&C can confirm other suitors… keen to return such an important site to its rightful status….
Leaning his lanky frame back, Æthelweard uttered a long sigh and rubbed his high temples with long, thin fingers. His generous stipend from the Museum post would cover the estate’s costs, but it would be a long process. Perhaps years, before the ancestral home was repaired and fit for the purposes of all parties who would reside there.
In the meantime these pettifogger's would need to be sated…
Reaching for pen and ink he began a reply. Letters was such a archaic art now, one alas that most the youth of today failed to grasp. His eyes flitted once again back to the immaculately scribed application from Master Sinclair. Most, but not all.
Hunched over his desk the tall scholar continued to scribble his reply, occasionally reaching for the gilded letter to cross reference.
Æthelweard stopped momentarily, noting some oddity that gave him pause. Holding the gilded conveyance to his steep nose he frowns once again;
”How damnably odd. Almost a faint whiff of sulphur…”
Shrugging his narrow shoulders, he continues - pen flourishing across the parchment…
Stepping through the portal, Silver Tiger found himself standing on a busy street, near a doorway. Anyone observing him might be forgiven for thinking he had stepped from the open door behind him, so his arrival was met with no fanfare.
Silver Tiger, however, was both amazed and enraptured by what he saw. While his eductation at the monastery had included the major inventions of the 20th and 21st century, it was a bit overwhelming, especially the noise. Thousands of people and machines all around him, vying for his attention at the same time. Closing his eyes, he controlled his breath.
Breath to action. Action to life. Life to violence. Violence to death.
Silver Tiger repeated the mantra in his mind several times, then picked a direction and started walking. He would find this Eldritch person soon enough, but he wanted to orient himself with his new surroundings first.
"'m sorry but it'll hafta wait, m'love. The case load t'day at work's a bit much and if we'd like to enjoy our retreat this weekend-- a game? Today? Th' boy's 16, he'll understand if I can't ma-- yeah, 14... what did I say? I'm sorry love, I've got work on m' mind. I'll try m'best to make it, but with the amount of work I've got, it might not be in the cards for me. I'm really sorry. I might be turning 50 this weekend, but it feels like m'brain's hitting 80. I've got to get back to the office, love. Take care, I'll see you tonight." I really can't believe I forgot the boy's game... This holiday cannot come sooner Doctor Searle thought to himself. The term "workaholic" didn't begin to describe Mac Searle. The man was beyond such a term. His work was his life, and everything else had fallen by the wayside. His wife couldn't decide if it was absentmindedness or an attempt to abandon his duties as husband and father. "His dedication to his work borders obsessive, to the detriment of those around him" she wrote on the divorce papers. He pushed for counseling, which she agreed to try, yet here they were again. The same song, different day.
He knew he was in trouble, but he had no clue how to come forward. Yeah, he loved Gillian and Ozzie, they meant the world to him, but his world was.... in disarray. Macallah wasn't the type of hero to have everything in order, or out in the open for that matter. What he did had to be carried out in shadows, and the less they knew, for their safety, the better. He compartmentalized the feelings and told himself he'd devote more time to his family in his 50th year and perhaps retire from the lifestyle. After he found a successor.
...if that was possible.
See, Macallah Searle didn't wear a cape, he didn't foil bank heists or save hostages (well, at least not much any more). His line of heroics pit him against Nightmares, Sleep Paralysis Demons, innocent Lucid Dreamers who managed to distort the Dreamtime... he was a groundskeeper of sorts. The Dreamtime was an extra dimensional place, one that every single sentient creature possessed access to. Hell, if you've ever dreamt, you've opened a portal to the Dreamtime within your mind.
The Keepers of Dreamtime were an order of warriors created before written history, tasked with guarding the waking world from the Dreamtime. Macallah's line spans millenia.
"Great Keepers," he thought to himself as he returned to flipping through pages of Claremont Academy students, "why must this fall upon me?"
"Stop darting ahead, Winnie! I wanted to look at that statue!" Grace looked away from the memorial statue to the Centurion.
Winifred Cooper, bony and slight to Grace's zaftig and tall, stuck her tongue out at her friend. Girlfriend? They hadn't really talked about it after that one... never mind. "We've been stuck half the week hiding from thunderstorms, I'm not going to gaze at statues. Besides, you're the one who wanted to go to the Botanical Gardens. It's a gorgeous day, don't waste it!" Winnie gave a comedic pout, and Grace shook her head and followed.
As she caught up, Winnie said, "Besides, last thing I want to think about dead superheroes. I don't want to..." Winnie's comic pout grew softer and more sincere.
"I know my... whatever's happened to me has changed everything, Win. But I'm not gonna die. Not today. Not for a long, long time. You're right, let's just go enjoy the gardens. Worryin' is for another day, alright?"
Win smiled, took Grace's hand, and dragged her toward the entrance of the Botanical Gardens in Liberty Park.
Briareus. The Hundred-Handed One. The Dunwich Horror. Hecatoncheires.
The man who owned all these titles placed his top-most hands behind his head and reclined in the dingy office that served him. He had sent the secretary home and considered that it had, indeed, been a good day.
First a leggy broad had stormed into his office saying that her husband was missing and she needed someone to find him. He railed at her to get out, and instead spend some time digging up the body. She obviously knocked him off. Didn't need to be forever-old to catch that.
Then was an old lady. Lad ran off with some dame. Was worried. That took until lunchtime but he found them. After yanking the needles out and slapping some sense into them he dropped the lad home. And the dame back at her daddy's. A good deed never don't hurt.
Lastly it was a cat, stuck in a tree. That was easy. Got some astonished looks when the hands shot up 75 feet. Heh. That's never not funny.
The door knocked. The pizza was here. And so was the booze.
You are suddenly disoriented as the ground seems to heave beneath you. As you regain your balance, a face appears in front of you. A young woman, black hair flying, a black hood and cape that fades into misty edges. Her eyes glow yellow, locking your gaze. Her mouth does not move, but you hear her voice:
"I am in need of your assistance, Freedom Hall is under attack, and the League is away dealing with other threats. Fear not, only you can see this message. Take my hand, and I will bring you to me..."
The image shimmers as it becomes more complete, now with a torso with an alarmingly low cut costume and long arms fully covered in black. One hand reaches out to you imploringly...
"What is it with visions of floaty women this last year!?"
Grace tries to look around, see if Winifred is still nearby, or the Gardens themselves, though cannot break her gaze from the woman with the glowing eyes.
"If you can hear me, Win, I gotta go. Someone needs help. Go back to the hotel and stay there if things get sticky." She eyes the woman in black up and down. "If this is a trick, God help both me and you, but I can't say no to a damsel in distress..."
She takes a deep breath, and takes the woman's hand.
"Serena," Max says breathlessly. Every little thing she does is magic,Magic (generation-appropriate song) starts to play as his internal soundtrack of almost every one of his teenage fantasies. Every other thought of the grimoire that he is reading and his plans for the summer evaporate like water hitting a hot skillet, as the vision of his heart's desire appears before him. It takes him a heartbeat to realize that the image in front of him is magically 'real' and not the beginning of a frequent daydream that his ebullient mood would explain.
His puppy eyes narrow to serious excitement. "May the Shield of the Seraphim protect me," he activates his magical protections and reaches out to take the hand of his dream girl.
"Seven," a gifted witch that came from a long storied bloodline of witches. He considered her as a replacement, but he sensed something in her...her fate seemed tethered to something different. "I will be there immediately"
Mac calls out to his secretary through his closed door."Herman, cancel my appointments for the day. M'boy has a ballgame I've got to catch."
Macallah quickly stands up, his office attire seemingly melting away in a swirl of colors, and in it's place, his ceremonial garb. But a lot hairier and with a dadbod that suggests he's pushing 50
Without saying a word, he grabs Seven's hand, ready to be dropped in the thick of the action.
The young woman's spectral appearance and plea for aid takes Æthelweard by surprise; he rarely entertained visitors in his dusty office, much less ones as alluring or mystifying.
"Oh my... Attack! Me!? Surely there are others?"
The ink blots on his letter as his hand shakes in a mixture of fear, and surprise.
Dolt! She seeks a giant not a dusty curator... We must call him for her...
Æthelweard breathes, and nods to himself, rising from his desk - overly tall and lean - his voice soft and resigned;
"Yes. Of course. We shall aide you. First I, then him."
He falteringly steps forward, his slightly bowed figure leaning upon the ornate cane he clutches, and reaches, long fingers enveloping her hand.
There is a sense of vertigo as your vision fills with a dark mist. You might have a moment's doubt about what is taking you, but regardless, the mist soon clears. You find yourself in the impressive entry foyer of Freedom Hall, the former headquarters of the Freedom League. These days, the League's headquarters is a satellite in Earth orbit, while the Hall serves as administrative offices, a museum, and some other secret things.
The foyer is 100 feet long and 60 feet wide. The ceilings soar 30 feet overhead. The walls are lined with portraits, news clippings, publicity photos, fan art, and awards for visitors to peruse while they wait for appointments. Comfortable retro chairs and couches line the walls as well. A reception desk halfway down the hall is normally where the receptionist, Cynthia, waits to greet visitors.
I'm not big on using maps with grids with M&M, but some reference is useful, I think. Here is a rough map. Not to scale. But as mentioned above, that central area is 100 by 60. That macaroni shaped thing is the large welcome desk, about 15 feet wide. I'll put this link in the campaign header at the top of the page when I get a chance.
You find a motley group of, well, are they heroes? At the center of the group is Seven. She seems calm, at least on the surface. "Thank you for responding to my call. To be honest, I wasn't sure who I was calling, just that all of you had some sort of connection to Adrian Eldritch, or possibly another Master Mage somewhere along the line..."
She is interrupted by a massive collision with the blast door that has slide down over the glass entry door. It holds, for now.
And just to be clear, here in this public area, there is nothing of any real significance. No functional freeze guns or anything.
Briareus wasn't initially shaken or moved by the initial floating-head or call to action. Once you've seen the no-seriously Oracle of Delphi, just another multi-dimensional popper popping in and demanding something does not a great impression make. Besides, he'd just polished off a slice of sausage and peppers as well as his first whiskey old fashioned and considered himself in for the night.
But then the image became clearer.
'Woof. I haven't seen jugs like that since that one time Zeus convinced Diana that absinthe was a health drink.'
Lured by so comely a damsel in distress, he found his inner muse to be moved, and a red, rousing adventure in the offing turned more to his taste.
"A'ight, toots, gimme sec." He shrugs into the long Coat of Poisidon and re-mounts the Ring of Aphrodite, taking a moment to activate both of them.
"A'ight. Let's go kick some aise."
***********************
Upon arrival he nods in appreciation. He'd never been, but he heard good things, and was happy that reality lived up to hype. He scanned around the room and saw mostly new faces. But then one popped into view and he had to make introduction.
"Mac! Oy, Macallah, 'ow u doin'? Aw, you beautiful baby when I got up this morning I did NOT think I'd be meeting you, and here of all places. What'r'dee'odds?
So, ah, I says, we just' let'em in we take 'em down a notch. Be just like old times, yeah?"
Max was an unremarkable eighteen year old: not quite six feet tall, lean build, short shaggy dark brown hair, boring clothes. He pulled on his Next-Gen mask from his pocket when he realized that he was not alone with Serena, with his Seraphim Shield, and not being shot at. Oh, hey. There's Dr. Langfellow. That's funny. I didn't put magic-use on my internship application.
Looking around the area, the last time he was here was two years ago on a school field trip with a wink and a nod among the employees in the know of the Freedom League. The Hall gave him a sense of reverence of the battles that occurred here and the Heroes who died in the line of duty.
When the words of Seven finally registered to him, his internal monologue screamed, the Master Mage judged me ready! Ready to join Seven and the fight against the Darkness! I'm ready! He smiled broadly under his mask having attained a life goal.
After the massive collision with the blast door protecting the glass entry door, Max says "By the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn," and he looks from a birds eye view at the front of the Freedom Hall wondering who is knocking on the door.
Grace is a sturdy, plump and quite tall young woman, dressed in baggy cargo pants and a red t-shirt proclaiming attendance at the Glastonbury Music Festival last year, carrying a day pack, a digital camera hanging from her neck. All outer appearances point to her being a tourist. Blonde hair is tied into a ponytail, and wide gray eyes scan every detail in the room with an equal mix of wariness and awe. The only unusual thing about her is what appears to be a pronounced tattoo on her left forearm of an old fashioned-looking sword in its sheath.
She half-smiles incredulously at Seven, speaking in a London-region accent. "Adrian Eldrich? Sure, he and I used to get together at the pub every Friday." She shakes her head. "Nah, can't claim to know anyone who's stepped through these halls. Met the Lady in the Lake once. Does that count?"
ETA, because Aethelward ninjaed me
And then the skinny nerd near her turns into a giant, and she falls very silent.
As the gilded fey cage fades, the giant within is released: standing where Æthelweard was is a 15ft. monster from myth or the imagination of Harryhausen!
The ogreish brute smiles with teeth like pegs, as he looks around, then downward toward the assembled heroes.
A glint of recognition flashes across the giant's features and it nods with a low grunt as it jabs a heavy thumb into a barrel chest;
Out of the corner of his eye while focusing on his spell to see outside, Max watches the transformation. Dr. Langfellow? I guess we both kept magic secrets.
Sorry folks, I wasn't intending to out everyone's identities. Seven could have easily changed you in the process. Feel free to retcon that if you want to keep your secrets.
I'm happy to run with the "reveal" - more organic (from my p.o.v.) and Æthelweard would likely presume that Seven can magically make such secrets be forgotten or become hazy in one's minds eye...
Ah, Freedom Hall. No amount of familiarity could ever tarnish that magic for Mac. Summer of 1987. Siren brought him in as an expert in Psychiatry and Hypnotherapy. From there, his rolodex of patients grew. If it wasn't for that chance call... He shook the thought out of his head. There are pressing matters, no need to take a stroll.
The Hypnotist surveys the room.
Langfellow. He knows the name and the face, as their circles aren't too far away, but it's nice to be able to meet him officially.
The others... much younger. Most definitely of a newer generation.
A familiar face materializes as Mac takes count of the others around the room. "Briareus--Dunnie!Dear friend, how the hells are you?! It's been quite a while! You've got to stop by the house sometime, I know the family would love to see you! How about we take care of this problem now and first round is on me afterwards, ye?"
He turns to address the others as Langfellow blinks out of existence and Eoten takes his place. "Th-That goes for all of ya... well, those that can drink... and at least two for the big guy here. Ah, my manners."
Mac strikes a more dignified pose, with his gut sucked in a bit. His voice booms with an ethereal, drenched-in-reverb dream-like quality. Colorful swirls of light twirl around the room as a haze befalls everyone.
"I AM THE HYPNOTIST, DEFENDER OF THE DREAMTIME, KEEPER OF THE BARRIER BETWEEN THE WAKING WORLD AND THE REALM OF DREAMS. A WARRIOR WITH LINEAGE THAT SPANS THE START OF HUMANITY." Creatures seen only in dreams begin to form out of the swirls of the color display. Great warriors of the Dreamtime step out of those creatures and stand beside The Hypnotist, in surreal glory.
Grace doesn't have a secret identity. I'll have to come up with a suitable in-between now-and-her origin story tale, but she has transformed in public before. As someone held to a code to be honest, among other things, a secret identity would just be too ridiculous to manage.
Seeing all present their heroic forms and once she manages to stop gaping, Grace mutters, "Oh. Right."
She raises her left hand and says (which some may or may not recognize as badly pronounced Cornish), "Dyfres!"
The "tattoo" on her hand seems to take on three dimensions and grow out of her wrist to become a leather bracer edged in gold. The image that was the tattoo remains on the bracer. In a flash of light, the rest of her body is surrounded by mail armor with a steel breastplate and helm.
"Calesvol!" And now the image of the sword on the bracer disappears--and a large sword of ancient design appears in her right hand, gleaming.
Seven recoils from Silver Tiger's attempt at placating her. "Do not think to coddle me, I am as calm as the situation warrants. I am the Master Mage of Earth, and I have brought you here to fight the extradimensional enemies at the gates."
There is another slam on the blast door and it bulges inward. It will not hold for long.
Sinclair:
You see 10 giant humanoid creatures of various color shades and twisted physical forms. They range in height from 10-20 feet tall. One with a single massive arm, one with eyes ringing his head, etc. They are at the forefront of the assault. They are variously punching the door, beating on the wall with clubs, and lobbing cars at the upper floors of the building. Just inside the front gate, back a bit from the door, stands a tall but not giant man with ruddy skin, small horns on his forehead, and pointed ears. He is strikingly handsome, nearly bare chested, wearing a kilt.
Gylfir stands at near 7 feet tall, and is outfitted in battered lamellar. He wears no helmet, allowing his gaunt features to stand out. The Deadman lives up to his name; he is obviously a corpse, long withered but semi-preserved as would a corpse trapped in ice be. His eye sockets glow with an eerie blue fire that softly trails the movements of his head. Two things about him seem almost out of place with the rest of his equipment and demeanor: a shield, polished to a mirror shine and rimmed with glowing norse runes, and a sword that seems relatively nondescript, but thrums with power to the magical senses of many of the room's occupants.
For the short version, he basically looks like a Skyrim-style Draugr.
"Who would attack this place? They are either fools, or very confident in their abilities."
Gylfir also doesn't have a secret identity per se, but he pretty much keeps to himself. Some here may have heard of "The Deadman" who showed up a couple of years ago and prowls the streets at night, "disappearing" many of the more unsavory members of society's underbelly. He moves all around town and has no set beat, so as to be unpredictable to his victims.
Sinclair focuses on the threat at hand, totally missing if there was a change in the Master Mage, and automatically follows the lessons of the Claremont Academy Danger Simulator. "Alright, people. We've ten giant mutant humanoid creatures about ten to twenty feet tall each punching the door, beating on the wall with clubs, and lobbing cars at the upper floors of the building."
"It appears their handler stands just inside the front gate. He's a tall but not giant man with ruddy skin, small horns on his forehead, and pointed ears."
"I can open a portal behind him, and we can attack from there before they break through the blast door. Unless someone has a better idea." The masked kid offers with confidence.
Then, he turns on Seven, "Wait, what? What do you mean Master Mage of Earth? Where's Uncle Adrian?!" The confident veneer cracks like the voice of teenage boy.
And, he screams as his emotions let loose with the ramifications of what she said, "Who is that demon out there?! Does he have something to do with it?!"
Grace had been too startled by the arrival and the giant (and the other giant and the dead man and... anyway) to have properly clocked the first shudder. But that the second boom she spins around and focuses as she realizes, yes, something is breaking down the door of Freedom Hall. Which I am standing inside of. With a bunch of superheroes. And apparently a Master Mage asking me to protect it.
After that little bit of shellshock passes, she hefts her sword and looks around to see what might be done about the situation. As Sinclair reports on the situation, she frowns. "What if we all go out there and then they get in here?" She looks up at the actual giant standing near her. "Uh, Ea-o-ten, was it? Can you hold the doors?"
"Coddling you was not my intent; I merely to comfort you. It was not my intention to insult you." The young African American man spoke with the accent of someone who had spent a great deal of time in Asia - in fact, one could assume that English was a second language for him. As he spoke, he bowed.
He wore silk Kung Fu jacket and pants, and raised sandals, dyed a deep blue, reminiscient of the ocean in a storm. His jacket was open, and he did not wear a shirt underneath, yet several tattoos were clearly visible on his stomach and chest.
A rolled scroll was peaking out of the small cloth sack that slid from his back was lowered gently to the ground.
"Ya, ya, Mr. Hyp-no-tist sir, save it for the tourists. Aye, I think I know that guy, that's Æthelweard, Imma go say hi. Ay yo Æthel, How's she hangin--" is all he gets out before the only man he ever knew to find his Odysseus jokes funny suddenly turns into a giant.
"Whoa! I guess she's hanging big an' heavy! Ah geez, I didn't figure you fer a giant kinda guy. I always thought something with electricity.
Oh aye, Eoten!" Briareus calls out. "Any friend of Athel's is a friend of mine. Put 'er there!" He snakes out a hand over to where the giant now is and offers a handshake.
When someone starts saying he knows what's on the other side of the door, he steps over. "Oy, you a Seer? Awesome. I'm Hecatoncheires, but you can call me Dunwich because it's easier to pronounce.
Now you say you can see the big cheese over there AND you can get us to him?
A'ight, I got two plans.
First is you get yerself, me, an' th' Big Bad Booty Daddy Mac here through your portal, and we'll make mister horny-head go bye-bye. Then all of us clean up his lackeies real squishy-like.
The other plan is you take someone else. Simple, eh?"
Just as you are strategizing, the doors finally give way. The blast doors explode into flinders as a small sedan tumbles through and comes to rest twenty feet away. Beyond, the giants have already begun striding through the broken frame. The red man behind them laughs. “Seems our partner was right. Not a thing guarding our enemies’ halls but a slip of a mage and a handful of misfits. Oi then! We’ve come for me Eye of Balor, and if’n ye give it over swiftly, I swear ta leave yer bones intact!”
You see 10 giant humanoid creatures of various color shades and twisted physical forms. They range in height from 10-20 feet tall. One with a single massive arm, one with eyes ringing his head, etc. They are at the forefront of the assault.
The speaker is a tall but not giant man with ruddy skin, small horns on his forehead, and pointed ears. He is strikingly handsome, nearly bare chested, wearing a kilt.
Updated Map with giants and Red. Updated visual reference with Red.
Expertise Magic or British Myth DC 15:
The attractive gentleman in the kilt is Bres the Beautiful, a sorcerer who leads a secret nation of deformed mutants called the Fomorians.
DC 18:
The Fomorians are the same mythic people described in Irish folklore and possess a wide variety of abilities. Bres is one of their number, born unusually beautiful and gifted in magic.
DC 20:
The Freedom League fought Bres several months ago and seized a powerful magical artifact from him—the Eye of Balor—which likely has something to do with this attack. If they told you where they kept powerful relics of Celtic folklore during orientation, you weren’t paying attention.
DC 25:
Bres and his Fomorians were exiled to another dimension called Annwn. He shouldn’t be able to arrive on Earth without help.
These are cumulative, so click each spoiler that you beat.
"Ya, ya," the Dunwich Horror is quick to belittle the statement's of the drunken scot. 'man if I had a nickle....'
"Save it for someone who cares. What are you, like, a minion of Hades? Lemme tell ya something about him. He's a nerd! A friggin' nerd. Guy got suckered and lives in the 'verse's biggest basement an' he loooooves it!
So you're a nerd who follows a nerd. That means yer no big whoop.
Friggin' mikro gida'.
Realizing he's a little out of practice, Briareus sends only three of his arms flying at the left-most minions, going for a quick choke-out to thin out the herd.
I hope this all works out....:
Strength-based multi-attack. Attacking with unarmed attacks on Red, Yellow, Purple in the front.
Yellow and Purple are grabbed, Red is not. Yellow and Purple resist the suffocation. Is there also a Toughness save versus the attack, or is it just the grab?
Sad Trombones. If you want to propose a modification to your build, feel free. Or just play this adventure as a slightly addled Deadman and buy some as we power up to 10 after this.
"You do not belong here. Return to your home and I promise you won't be hurt." Silver Tiger then glances at the remains of the door then adds "You should probably fix the door before you go though. That would only be proper."
The exploding blast doors snaps Sinclair's attention away from Serena. Where does he remember that guy?"Now I remember. That horned guy in the skirt is Bres the Beautiful, a sorcerer who leads a secret nation of deformed mutants called the Fomorians. The same Fomorians from Irish folklore who possess a wide variety of abilities. Bres is just another Fomorian gifted in magic."
"The Freedom League fought Bres several months ago and seized a powerful magical artifact from him — the Eye of Balor. Obviously, he thinks it's here."
"But, wait a minute. Bres and his Fomorians were exiled to another dimension called Annwn. He shouldn’t be able to arrive on Earth without help."
So, I want to restate and maybe clarify what I see as the way this thing goes from a comics perspective. That always helps me contextualize comics campaigns.
Eldritch is a long running comic, going all the way back to the Golden Age. In 2013, there is a Big Event that results in the death or disappearance of the man himself, the Master Mage of Earth, Adrian Eldritch. The comic continues with out first adventure. Or maybe it is a #1 Relaunch. Eldritch becomes a team, not a man. (This is our PL 8)
In 2020, the team has been functioning at some level for 7 years. That is the second adventure. (This will be PL10)
In other business, some of us need to work on Complications, and others may want to create some background connections with each other. Probably best if not everyone has already worked together, but some duos or former team mates could be fun.
And in other other business, the campaign claims that it really digs deep into the history of the Freedomverse, so if there are any connections, enemies, friends, etc from that that interest you, let me know.
Also, if you want to introduce characters to the universe other than your own, that would be fine.
I'm not an expert on the deep lore of the Freedomverse, but I've read the books since the beginning of M&M, so I'm at least aware of most of it.
Like the idea that were a relaunch of the Eldritch title, makes sense as in a nice spin of the established book if we're Vol 2
With my character am open to either Eoten or Æthelweard having previous with any of the group. Prior to 2013 he was based out of UK, and only recently arrived having taken up a research curator's post at Hunter’s Museum of Natural History in Freedom City.
However Æthelweard is a renowned academic in the field of myth, legend and folklore so his expertise may have been sought by any one (or none lol) of the other characters previously (either in person or remotely)... Now he's in Freedom City he may be on-tap more (perhaps one of the others actually recommended the lanky researcher to the museum...
As for Eoten he's more of a force of nature and may well have also encountered any of you who have conducted adventures in UK... Definitely think that Dunwich Horror and he would have the classic meet/fight/team-up trope.
I'll dig into the the Freedomverse lore, see who Eoten might have tussled with previously (or since arriving in Freedom City)
As a fun aside (and based on what folks noted in their pitches) we have the following comic 1st appearances so far:
The Hypnotist: The Freedom League, Issue #534
Sinclair: The Next-Gen, Issue #129
Eoten: Giant-sized Tales to Astound! Issue #9
Sinclair has been in Freedom City since 2009, but was previously in the UK, more isolated though. Unless Æthelweard had access to the Order of Light archives that his parents curated, depending on age.
By 2013, Sinclair is fairly well-known as a magic theorist with association with the Master Mage, Eldritch, and the heir apparent Seven.
He has attended the Claremont Academy for four years.
In other business, some of us need to work on Complications, and others may want to create some background connections with each other. Probably best if not everyone has already worked together, but some duos or former team mates could be fun.
And in other other business, the campaign claims that it really digs deep into the history of the Freedomverse, so if there are any connections, enemies, friends, etc from that that interest you, let me know.
Also, if you want to introduce characters to the universe other than your own, that would be fine.
I'm not an expert on the deep lore of the Freedomverse, but I've read the books since the beginning of M&M, so I'm at least aware of most of it.
1) Complications.
i) I don't see his booze addiction as something nearly as prominent as I've used with other characters, but more that he has lived nearly all his life in the orbit of the no-seriously Bacchanalian lifestyle, and having a drink is now as much a part of him as anything else.
ii) So too, I don't see his wife playing an active part in the campaign (like, I haven't made an alias for her) and his relationship with her at this point is loyal/long-distance. They've been together for literally, millennium, and she's as much a part of him as wine--he doesn't even consider what life would be like without her.
2) Enter Dionysus
I've said that the whole of the Greek Pantheon can be considered his compatriots, so feel free to reap a rich harvest from that bountiful land. We can take whatever the popular lore is as a thing that really happened, and Briareus is sure to comment on it, and bring up things, with embellishments. =)
A major event might be for Cronus and the evil titans to get out of Tartarus. Or for his deadbeat, mutilated dad, Urunus, to show up from...wherever he is.
Oh totally! I can easily see these guys sitting down beside a warm fire with a glass of good port just talking mythology.
(Half of Briareus' stories would start out "Ah geez, nah, it weren't like that at all..." but half of those would be at best complete fabrication based on, at best, third hand knowledge. =)
Oh yeah! Complications. I forgot about them. I'll work some in for Deadman later.
First appearance...probably some kind of horror book, but as those things are wont to do, shifts a lot over the years into his current form, like characters in the vein of Constantine and Swamp Thing have been shifted from straight horror/occult to more horror/occult themed superheroics.
"Dark Tales to Terrify and Delight! #36", perhaps?
Also, fun little trick for everyone: if you post in a thread and then delete your first post, it keeps the dot. So you can dot in without reserving the first few posts with dot posts.
I'm tearing my hair out about this. (Assuming I have any.)
I -thought- I read about an Extra where...okay, the Weakness power, after you use it, they get back 1 point a round.
To me that seems -really- annoying. It couldn't be after a minute? But as soon as you use it it starts to go away?
Anyway, I thought I read about a 1 [flat point?] Extra where it could make it not do that. I thought it was called Persistent, but I guess that's something else?
All I wanna do is Weaken somebody, and then not worry about them immediately getting back. They can get it back, just not right-frickin-away. Is there no where for a horrible monster to dream anymore?!?
My partner is currently working on our PCs so I’m going about this on my phone for now.
My character’s set up for this game is a little different. I’m going to be playing a father for the first part, and then his son for the second.
Mac Searle, The Hypnotist was on a short-lived team with Dunwich Horror named The Night Watch. I left the incident that lead to the team’s demise open-ended but Hypno was partially at fault. The Night Watch would’ve been active in the late 80’s- early 90’s somewhere stateside. If anyone wants to have been a part of the team, that will be fine, but I figure he probably isn’t on friendly terms with anyone other than Dunwich (or perhaps no one is on friendly terms with him).
The Hypnotist’s complications:
1, He is a family man with a civilian identity.
2, hrs apprehensive when it comes to working as a team, due to past trauma. He tends to work best alone, to his detriment.
3, He’s doomed.
I'm tearing my hair out about this. (Assuming I have any.)
I -thought- I read about an Extra where...okay, the Weakness power, after you use it, they get back 1 point a round.
To me that seems -really- annoying. It couldn't be after a minute? But as soon as you use it it starts to go away?
Anyway, I thought I read about a 1 [flat point?] Extra where it could make it not do that. I thought it was called Persistent, but I guess that's something else?
All I wanna do is Weaken somebody, and then not worry about them immediately getting back. They can get it back, just not right-frickin-away. Is there no where for a horrible monster to dream anymore?!?
The only thing I can see that would help is progressive. That way they only begin to restore those points weakened after they successfully save. Pretty expensive, though.
Motivation: Redemption. Gylfir committed many sins in life and is cursed to wander the earth for eternity. He believes achieving true redemption will set him free from this world to pass on to the next.
Weakness: Curse removal. Should Deadman's curse ever be lifted, he would die instantly and permanently.
Weakness: Holy magic. Magic sourced from non-evil deities or similar divine sources bypass his immunity to magic and all other resistances. Likewise, magical healing is treated as a Damage effect of the same rank.
Weakness: Holy Ground: Deadman physically cannot enter any consecrated structure or holy site belonging to good aligned deities.
Power Loss: As a being animated by magic, Deadman becomes a normal corpse in any area devoid of magic, though revives if removed from the area.
Enemy: Undead Hunters: Many organized religions put together a corps of exorcists and undead slayers. Though they've fallen out of favor over the years, Deadman is still considered an abomination in their eyes and would be attacked on sight unless something prevented them.
* Motivation: Recognition The Young Mage wants to be recognized as a competent and effective practitioner of magic.
* Power Loss: Magic Powers require hand movements and verbal command words
Seven years after the death of Adrian Eldritch and disappearance of Seven, Max becomes one of the most knowledgeable heroes about magic on Earth-Prime. His highly theoretical use of magic would be tested many times over the years in life or death situations. He would lose battles and friends and becomes battle-hardened. His Motivation at this time becomes, responsibility: with great knowledge comes great responsibility.
ORIGIN:
Maxwell Athersmith Sinclair was born the only child of David and Mary Sinclair in 1991. The couple worked as caretakers to one of the properties of Master Mage, Adrian Eldritch. In fact, their families had been members of the Order of Light for generations. Their property was an ancient priory that housed a portion of the archives of the Master Mages. Where in the United Kingdom or Ireland is this priory?
Max grew up surrounded by magic referring to the Master Mage as Uncle Adrian. The lullaby his parents sang to him as a baby was an enchantment that let him understand any languages, so he began to understand, learn, and read at an early age. His only innate power is a highly developed sense of magic. However, he has taken to spell-casting, like a duck to water.
When he was eight years old, tragedy struck. An enemy of the Master Mage discovered the library. His parents sacrificed their lives to secure Max in a safe room. Although the Master Mage eventually arrived and prevailed, Max became an orphan that day. Who was the villain? An older, childless couple of distant relatives, the Morels, arrived to take care of the priory and Max. They were nice, but they were not his parents. He escaped into the arcane library reading everything. The only certainty that the Morels found to pry him away from the ancient tomes was a visit from Uncle Adrian.
That was until 2008, when Uncle Adrian arrived with a new apprentice, Serena Vervain. She became the sun in Max’s solar system. She was beautiful and knew more about magic than Max did. When she would visit the library on her own, Max would fail to not follow her around like a puppy dog and try not to trip over himself. When he heard that she went to the Claremont Academy in Freedom City, that is where he wanted to go, too. So, Uncle Adrian enrolled him starting in the autumn of 2009.
In 2013, Max is finishing his last year at Claremont Academy working on his honors thesis on an esoteric magical theory about the transmutation of material being translocation of material across parallel dimensions. He is known as the most knowledgeable mage in the academy, a constant resident of the library, and a capable combatant in the academy simulators. While not anti-social, he does not have many close friends. And those close friends share his interest and occupation of the library. Beyond the academy, Max is well-known in the magic community as friendly with the Master Mage and Seven and a serious scholar of magic in his own right. Many magical beings have heard of him and are more likely to take them seriously as a friend or foe. His Motivation at this time would be, recognition: the Young Mage wants to be recognized as a competent and effective practitioner of magic.
Seven years after the death of Adrian Eldritch and disappearance of Seven, Max becomes one of the most knowledgeable heroes about magic on Earth-Prime. His highly theoretical use of magic would be tested many times over the years in life or death situations. He would lose battles and friends and becomes battle-hardened. His Motivation at this time becomes, responsibility: with great knowledge comes great responsibility.
PERSONALITY:
Max is an introvert. In 2013, he is quiet allowing others to speak and take more space than himself. When he disagrees with someone, he only mentions the disagreement if it affects himself or would lead to someone being hurt. So, he is silently thinking about the latest several of tomes that he has read.
He thanks J.K. Rowling for the Harry Potter fanatics who see him as a real-life Harry Potter and want to exercise their fantasies with him. So, he does not want for social attention.
In 2020, Max has become a veteran soldier with some cynicism and post-traumatic stress disorder having lost friends and witnessed tragic collateral damage. Due to the crisis without a Master Mage on Earth-Prime, he is now well-practiced being in the spotlight to give his opinion, because unfortunately, most topics these days that he discusses could lead to someone being hurt.
GOALS:
1. Prove to Serena Vervain that he is worthy of her love
2. Find a way to resurrect or communicate with Adrian Eldritch
3. Research and attain immortality and immunity to disease
4. Eventually be good enough to become the Master Mage of Earth-Prime
I'm still mulling over some of Eoten's powers in his build - specifically the "Stomp" Affliction...
Am trying to mystify him up more - have some ideas tying him to other "monstrous creatures" from Old English folklore like Hags , but open to suggestions.
@Eoten: Has Eoten always been a better than average giant, or is that from the influence of the connection to Aethelweard? Did some Master Mage create a spell to reach across time to soften Eoten for some reason?
@Dunwich Horror: Found this version of shooting two guns built as an array, thought it might be useful. Not exactly what you wanted, but might give you some ideas.
Phantom Six-guns: Array (18 points) • 19 points
Dual Wield: Ranged Damage 14, Split, Limited: Must be split evenly (7/7), Affects Insubstantial 2 (Full Ranks), Feature: Guns return to hands if disarmed • 18 points
Deadly Shot: Ranged Damage 10, Accurate 2, Affects Insubstantial 2 (Full Ranks), Feature: Guns return to hands if disarmed • 1 point
@Deadman: What exactly would break the curse? Does he know anything about the person who cursed him? Should I create that as a secret?
@Silver Tiger: There isn't much info about Shangri-La/Shambala. The longest entry I've found is in the 2E Book of Magic. Everything looks good here. Let me know if there are any martial arts characters you particularly want to face off against, or if there is an expy we should create.
Male Hairy Highlander Halfbreed (ThirdSwede) Barbarian 9/King O' The North 5/Staffy Dad 7
@GMST: Mmm. plenty to mull :)
When creating the character I envisioned a Shazam type scenario where Aethelweard is essentially the vessel for Eoten, but hadn't really considered if the giant was remarkable specimen of his long dead race... See Aethelweard as a (seemingly unwitting) academic of legend and folklore whose (unknowing but diluted giant or mythic bloodline) has guided him in his scholarly pursuits (and fated him to be bound to Eoten).
Like the idea of him being summoned across time by the Master Mage... Perhaps he was once a servant (or foe) of a Master Mage past - Merlin makes most sense... Tying his origin to Stonehenge (also known as Cor Gawr - "The Giants Dance") - perhaps it was there that Merlin bound Eoten there between time and space until he summoned/released by another Master Mage when fate required him?
Am taken with the idea of Eoten linking back to Ettin's and two headed giants. Not literally - but two souls sharing the same vessel - Aethelweard and Eoten (not sure if the giant should be his own "person" as such - Gogmagog or Cormoran would make most sense...
@Deadman: What exactly would break the curse? Does he know anything about the person who cursed him? Should I create that as a secret?
Sufficiently powerful curse breaking power. Something like a PL 20 (or lower, at your discretion) use of Nullify (Curses). Potentially direct forgiveness by a descendant of the witch (if any exist). SOme kind of truly selfless act, maybe; it could be argued that Gylfir has never been truly redeemed as he has been doing good for the purpose of being redeemed and released from the eternal torment of his existence; sort of the Catch-22 of "incentivized heroics".
The person who cursed him was a witch, though he knows little more than that; it was her death curse after a successful raid on an English town that took her and the other women prisoner.
The rest of his raiding party was killed, but as the leader he was singled out for a more significant punishment.
"Y'know, Hades, he's not such a bad guy. I mean, he's kinda sheepish. A big nerd, keeps to himself, y'know?
Now, between you and me, we all know Zeus cheated, amirite? I mean, dat guy, he organizes the whole thing, the whole 'machy, and then, for SOME REASON, he's all, 'ay me bros, let's draw lots, an' they're totally random I swear.'
Sheeyeah right. I'd take a little dime-store slight-a-hand and badda-bing badda-boom, he gets the sky, his tight bro gets the water, an' the friggin nerd gets t' wait around until someone dies.
Can't say I wouldn't do the same thing myself, but, ah, let's call a spade a spade, yeah?"
Thanks, GM. I took a look at that and, yeah, it helped me with my build.
Mind you, I'm still looking for a bit else.
Could we hammer out something like what I described? 1 flat point. Extra on Weakness: Delayed recovery. (We could give it a real scary name like: Cunctation.)(That IS a word, Spellchecker. Don't you start with me!)
Cunctation: Automatic recovery is delayed for 1 minute.
Otherwise I'm seeing Weakness as some kind of game of Tapper. Where I get them down, then do something else, then have to go back and do more Weakness, then do something else, then come back....
The Freedom League #599. The Hypnotist and Dunwich Horror at the mercy of THE SEA MONSTER!!!:
[the bar is dark, but has a moderate crowd. Tables are full of late-night partiers. Beer bottles occupy the high ground in strength, and half-naked women drape themselves across men either dangerous or gullible. Sometimes both.
The bar is sparsely sat, as a wide berth is given the two strange men. One is powerfully built, and speaks of age and hard knocks. The other radiates wisdom and magic.]
"So I sez to da guy, 'that's not a fireman, that's my wife!'" Dunwich spouts, laughing uproariously at his joke.
Hiw drinking mate seems amused, but also confused. "Briareus...you are...married? I did not know this."
"Ah, yeah. I never told yous? Yeah, I got a little woman, but she lives back in the old country. Daughter of Poseidon himself! But she don't like to travel too far from the water, and looking of the farm keeps her busy an' out-a trouble."
"But...the women that you..."
"Yeah, well, ya gotta understand. We're from a different time, yeah? Her attitude is a little...ah...'Greek'. Ya see--"
The many-armed speaker is suddenly interrupted by a loud sob from a man a few bar-stools down.
He gives the man a dirty look and returns to his story. "See, she's got her own--"
Again a loud sob punctuates the bar, and the two friends can no longer keep their intrinsic curiosity in check.
"Aye, buddy? Ya wanna keep it down, there? We're tryin' t'--"
"Aie, yah. Can you not see this man is hurting? O man! What is it that gives you such troubles in this fine place? What sorrows are not drowned by that pint of lager you now nurse?"
The sobbing one was indeed curled around a mostly-untouched pint glass of a thin yellow liquid. It took him a moment to recall himself from his sorrows.
"I-I-I-I-I'm sorry. I, d-d-d-d-didn't mean to--"
"Out with it, O man!" stated The Hypnotist, willing to listen but less than eager to have his good deed go punished. "We are all friends here. Just tell us plain, and maybe we can help."
"O-O-O-okay. Um," the man stammers, but he rubs his eyes and seems to muster himself for his story. "My little girl, Sophie, she needed an operation. But, serious-like. And expensive. My insurance wouldn't cover it. Said they just covered 'hospice'. You, ah, you know what that is?"
"Ah geez. Yeah, it's where old folks go t' die. You put a l'il girl in-a joint like dat?"
"N-n-n-n-o. I, ah, I got the money. And she got the c-c-c-care she nnnnneeded. But, um, the payback, was, ah,"
"Did you borrow this money from evil men?" The Hypnotist asked, already have a sense of where this was going, but not wanting to know.
"Y-y-y-yeah. Um, and we had a little trouble at work. I needed a couple extra days to come up with this month's payment. Just a bit. But he said--he said---he said---he said 'you don't got the money, so we get the girl.'"
The man erupts into a peels of crying. The two heroes look at each other.
"Aye yous," the titan asks, prodding the man with a middle hand. "You got a name for dis apótomi kínisi?"
"The-the-the-the---Ssssssea Monster. Sammy the Sea Monster," he answers, his head sinking into his arms.
The two heroes exchange another glance.
"We gots fo' hours 'till da game starts."
"Plenty of time, my friend."
The Dunwich Horror takes out his phone--it's a hand-held thing, far in advance of current technology, and a personal gift from Hephaestus himself.
"Aye," he says into the phone. "Yeah, how 'you doin'? Aye, you got a hangout for the crew of someone called Sammy the Seamonster? Yeah....yeah...yeah...down by the river? A'ight."
The two gentlemen spill out of their chairs and arrange their coats.
"Ay Tony, we'll be back, so don't let no one touch our stuff. And, ah, get rid of that dishwater that guy is drinking and get some 'Murphy down his gullet, a'ight? Yeah it's on my tab, what'a'you, stupid?"
****************************
The door to the shadowy house bursts open and the two heroes walk through.
A single bare light-bulb hangs from the ceiling, illuminating two rough-looking gentlemen sitting at a game of cards.
"Gah! Ay, Dunnie, what you scare us for? You wanna get dealt in?" one of the men says, startled.
"Nah, I want you t' tell me where your boss is. Ri' now."
"Ah, Idunno--"
His speech is suddenly cut off as two of Briareus' hands thrust forward, elongating themselves and each wrap around one struggling form. In a few moments he drags both still forms and dumps them in front of the magical hero.
"A'ight. Go," the titan says.
"Go...what?" The Hypnostist counters.
"You know, ah, do...do your stuff. Find out where Sammy is," he counters, pointing to the prone figures.
"Ah, I see my friend. No, you know I can only enter sleeping minds. I can do nothing when you have incapacitated them so fully."
"Ah geez, Alright alright! Don't make a federal case out of it, I know where to find more."
They steps over the senseless gangers and move on.
********************
The door of the warehouse by the river bursts in and the two heroes move forward.
"Do you always have to do that?"
"Do wha'?"
"Destroy the door? Perhaps if you were to knock, or, at least see if it was unlocked. Someone has to replace that door you know."
"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?" comes a voice.
The two heroes are surrounded by four men with guns drawn. From the number of crates haphazardly thrown around they seem to have interrupted the movement of cargo.
"We want to know where Sam the SeaMonster is," The Hypnotist says, a bit too properly.
"Yeah, and we wanna see your corpse!" one of the gangsters shout before a hail of bullets erupt from their guns.
"Ah geez," the Horror says. A few rounds bounce of his formidable hide before he again launches out a four hands for four necks. In a moment all is quite.
"Dere. They're jus' sleeping now. Are you 'appy?"
"Ecstatic, my friend," is the answer as he begins to probe their sleeping and vulnerable minds.
*****************************
The door to the run-down condo bursts in.
"None-a yer noise," Briareus says to his companion as four arms shoot out, quickly strangling the bodyguards and leaving one rather well-dressed man standing.
"What, um, what do you guys wa--"
"You will be silent now. You are holding a girl called Sophia. You will give her to us. Now."
"I'd do what the man, sez, Sammie-baby. The Hypnotist, he's, ah, he's not as nice and even-tempered as I am, noo?"
******************************
"DADDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Sophia hollered as she threw herself into her surprised and grateful father's arms.
"How did you--" he starts to ask before his question is waved away.
"You jus' git out-a here. An' be more careful where you borrow money from, noo?"
The two heroes watch the pair walk away as they restore themselves to their choice seats, just in time for kick-off.
"This was a good thing we have done, my friend."
"Yea. It jus' would-a been nice if we could'a got some cheddar-cheese out-a it, y'know?"
Macallah Searle, known to the world as The Hypnotist, thought on the night's events. He thought about how happy the man was as he cradled his child in his arms. He thought about starting a family himself.
But he would prefer a boy, he thought.
"Have a care, Briareus. Some things are worth more than money."
I think I read that the Hypnotist is into Voodoo, so probably knows Siren PL 11, of the Freedom League
The Hypnotist is Indigenous Australian, and practices aboriginal dream magicks. Funny enough, I did have a past friendship in mind with Siren though I haven't fully fleshed that out.
Thanks, GM. I took a look at that and, yeah, it helped me with my build.
Mind you, I'm still looking for a bit else.
Could we hammer out something like what I described? 1 flat point. Extra on Weakness: Delayed recovery. (We could give it a real scary name like: Cunctation.)(That IS a word, Spellchecker. Don't you start with me!)
Cunctation: Automatic recovery is delayed for 1 minute.
Otherwise I'm seeing Weakness as some kind of game of Tapper. Where I get them down, then do something else, then have to go back and do more Weakness, then do something else, then come back....
I think what you want is not Weaken but an Affliction Power. 3 degrees would get you to paralyzed, which would be like having 0 Strength.
Male Hairy Highlander Halfbreed (ThirdSwede) Barbarian 9/King O' The North 5/Staffy Dad 7
Ok - got inspired and returned to the roots of British myth and legend. Tying his origin to him being a spellbound servant of Morgan LeFey and being imprisoned by Merlin.
Drawing shameless inspiration from Etrigan's origin and dynamic which kinda fits into my original concept.
Defo ditching the Stomp Affliction for some other tricks up his oversized sleeves :)
@Silver Tiger - found something in the Freedom City timeline for you:
Circa 10,000 BCE
* The war between Lemuria and Atlantis culminates in the Great Cataclysm, sinking both islands beneath the ocean and ending the First Age of Humanity and the Last Age of Lemuria.
* Those Atlanteans away from the island at the time of its destruction scatter across the globe, founding several hidden enclaves of their society. These include the Ultima, who establish the hidden city of Ultima Thule in the Arctic Circle; the Utopians, who move a small island in the Bermuda Triangle into a hidden pocket dimension; and the mystics of Shambala Vale in the Himalayas, who intermarry with the local population and found the Shambala Temple, source of all martial arts and many mystical secrets.
Ok - got inspired and returned to the roots of British myth and legend. Tying his origin to him being a spellbound servant of Morgan LeFey and being imprisoned by Merlin.
Drawing shameless inspiration from Etrigan's origin and dynamic which kinda fits into my original concept.
Defo ditching the Stomp Affliction for some other tricks up his oversized sleeves :)
Wow. That Affliction is -exactly- what I'm going for. Imma still say it has the trappings of suffocation, but the mechanics are, yeppers, dead fragging on.
Male Hairy Highlander Halfbreed (ThirdSwede) Barbarian 9/King O' The North 5/Staffy Dad 7
GM SuperTumbler wrote:
Black Dow wrote:
Ok - got inspired and returned to the roots of British myth and legend. Tying his origin to him being a spellbound servant of Morgan LeFey and being imprisoned by Merlin.
Drawing shameless inspiration from Etrigan's origin and dynamic which kinda fits into my original concept.
Defo ditching the Stomp Affliction for some other tricks up his oversized sleeves :)
Love it. That inspires lots of ideas.
Got him nailed down. Actually shifted to fleshing out his alter-ego more.
Regards complications in the 7 year gap that we'll shift from PL8 to PL10 he'll gain two enemies: Professor Jackanapes & Ophidian Magus.
Both have mystic modus operandi, but also tie in with Æthelweard's background - so hopefully there's potential to incorporate into the campaign.
In the Hero High supplement, one of the heroes at the Claremont Academy is Elflight:
Elflight is actually Alea Arlissan, a half-elf from the mystical world of Avalon, a dimension which exists in close association with Earth-Prime, especially with the British Isles, and is home of the Tuatha (and Nuada Silverarm (see Atlas of Earth-Prime: Australia)). Throughout history the connection between the two worlds has waxed and waned over time. It is very difficult to travel between the two worlds, but not for the Queen of Faerie. One of her visits to Earth-Prime was to set a young man named Thomas Rhymer on the right track. When she found him, they enjoyed time together in Avalon, where time passes queerly. She revealed secrets to Rhymer that his mind is still unraveling, but he also left her with something: a child.
Upon the birth of their daughter, Alea, the Queen of Faerie had members of her court raise her as a “ward of the court.” Alea and her adoptive parents knew she was half-elven, but no one knew she was a princess of faerie with the queen’s blood in her veins. Regardless, she was raised in the court, treated as a noble child, and afforded the opportunities associated with such rank. She was trained in combat and magic, for both of which she exhibited considerable talent.
Because of her elven heritage, Alea ages slowly, combined with the way time passes in Avalon, she was only a young teenager when she next encountered a mage from Earth-Prime. Seven came to Avalon to wrest an artifact from the Fomori to help her defeat Una, Dark Lord of the Netherworld. While there, she needed the help of “one of two worlds” to recover the artifact. The Queen of Faerie volunteered Alea to help Seven with her task, explaining she was half human and should prove equal to the task. She also awarded Alea the legendary sword Whitestar to aid in the task. Their quest carried the two young women into the depths of a Fomori stronghold where they fought a deadly battle, but ultimately succeeded.
Before Seven could leave, Alea asked if she could go with her to Earth-Prime to learn more about her heritage. She wanted to experience it and see what mysteries it held. Seven agreed to take her on the condition that she would be a student at the Claremont Academy, where Seven spent so many of her formative years, but she also secretly made her vow to defend the Earth from mystical threats as best she could. Alea agreed.
@Æthelweard - writing up my first post made me think would be his plans after college (Claremont Academy). So, I was thinking he planned to stay in Freedom City by getting a position at the Hunter Museum of Natural History as a research assistant. The Museum is sponsored by local supers like Daedalus, so they would have hired him for his knowledge of magic.
Writing this, I just realized that Claremont Academy is a high school. He needs to be 4 years younger and 18 in 2013. So, born in 1995. He'll plan to take a gap year in Freedom City at the Museum.
A small, unassuming two-story concrete-block building in northern Hanover houses this martial arts school and dojo, where Master Lee, an older Chinese gentleman who immigrated to America in his youth, teaches various styles of kung fu to his students. Master Lee’s advanced students do most of the actual teaching, under the watchful guidance of their sifu.
Although the school is a legitimate and successful business, Master Lee also secretly uses it as a front to search for students worthy of the esoteric martial arts secrets he learned from his own teachers. After an unfortunate incident in which one of first students used his skills for evil, Master Lee now chooses his apprentices more carefully.
Seven is only 18 and a year out of Claremont Academy herself. If Max or Gracie wanted to be entangled with her as a friend or romantic interest, that would also be reasonable.
I think Seven is older. In Freedom City, she only gets her powers at 13 and enrolls at Claremont in 2001 in the first class, so she is probably 13 or 14 in 2001. In 2008, she becomes Eldritch apprentice. In 2013, she would be 25-26. Unless I'm reading these things wrong, because I just realized that Claremont is only a high school.
Max has a BIG crush on Seven. She is the reason that he went to Claremont.
As for Gracie, I don't know where she is in 2013. If she's at Claremont, they would definitely know one another, and either be close, bests or exs. Let me know you're preferences.
I don't think Grace is at Claremont. I think she is taking a gap year to travel.
As for Seven, the adventure says she is 19 when she joins the Freedom League after Eldritch disappears. I can't find anything in Freedom City or Hero High that contradicts that or that she is part of the first class at Claremont. But I'm willing to admit Im missing things.
FC = Freedom City 3rd edition Green Ronin Publishing 2017
"When Serena turned thirteen, she learned the truth. She came from a bloodline of witches that stretched back to the founding days of Freedom City... Her grandmother enrolled Serena at the Claremont Academy, where she could hone her gifts and benefit from both its protection and its education. There she took the codename “Seven,” a magical number with her the seventh fully realized witch of her bloodline." (FC 266)
"2001 * Duncan Summers completes the renovation of Claremont Academy and takes in its first new group of students, including Bowman (Fletcher Beaumont III), Megastar, Nereid, Seven, and Sonic." (FC 98)
"2008 * Seven begins an apprenticeship with Adrian Eldritch." (FC 100)
"2013 * Seven succeeds Eldritch as Earth’s Master Mage then faces a tremendous challenge from Una the Invincible, Queen of the Netherworld." (FC 102)
Grace indeed is not from Claremont or Freedom City, though I expect it (the city) to become her base of operations in the future. For adventure 0 she will be a tourist in the city.
Max, thanks for the info, but I'm not sure what to make of what you shared. I can't tell if you're telling me there is something wrong because the setting already has a magic sword wielder, or if you are suggesting an NPC connection. If the latter, not sure how despite similar myth origins to connect her; I am open to specific suggestions but have no ideas on my own. When I was asking about connections with characters, I was asking more about ties to other PCs.
Am going to have intermittent connectivity over the next 24 hours; hope to get you a final build by the end of that period.
Male Hairy Highlander Halfbreed (ThirdSwede) Barbarian 9/King O' The North 5/Staffy Dad 7
@DQ: Orphidan Magus' secret identity is Professor Chadley Smythe-Livingston. Ultimately his alter ego will clash with Æthelweard's, but as of Issue 0 they were just contemporaries.
Smythe-Livingston funded archaeological searches and projects for potential artifacts, so could be that Grace's mother also worked on similar projects (Smythe-Livingston was all about the power and glory than the mud-slogging).
Could also be that heard about the powerful relics that claimed you as their wielder? Setting him up as a potential foe down the line (we have 7 years to infill after Issue 0 :)
Thanks for the references, Sinclair. Clearly, something is fishy. Not all of the facts of Seven's background can be reconciled.
Per the adventure series description, she is 19 in 2013, graduated from Claremont and the Next-Gen and has joined the Freedom League.
At 13, (so 2007) she found out the truth of her lineage and enrolled in Claremont, then began her training with Eldritch not long after.
Bowman's entry says that he enrolled in the first class at Claremont, graduated around the time of the Grue Invasion (2004). He apparently dated Seven, but they split up when both joined the Freedom League.
But the history section says that she began her apprenticeship with Eldritch in 2008 and became Master Mage upon his death in 2013.
It doesn't matter immensely to our story, but I'll see if I can get any clarification.
Definitely important that she is 19, newly Master Mage, and part of the Freedom League.
