Hey guys, sorry I haven’t been posting. I’ve been really busy lately juggling work and college, and on top of that me and my family are likely to be moving soon so I need to work on living arrangements. I feel like I need to take a break from this for a few weeks while I get my life together. Sorry if you guys are disappointed with that. I’ll try to give you guys an update at the end of July.
Kaleo Green wrote:
Check your last post then. It applies the +6 twice. Might just be some visual error though.
Kaleo Green wrote:
Assuming this is not a typo and you get a +12 to the roll... Your search is very effective, trawling up what seems to be receipts, though in order to make any sense of them you would need time to study them in depth. You also find information detailing inventory and some strange emails directed at a financing department.
Father Asher Anderson wrote:
It seems your nerves have gotten the better of you, and your search of the office nets you nothing that couldn't already be seen by a cursory glance. Your investigation of the bodies, meanwhile, shows you something much more concrete: the bodies suffer damage suggesting that they were moving while heavily injured, something that is seemingly impossible given the level of damage you are seeing (damaged legs, heads, etc.).
Julian Jacobs wrote:
Are you transforming into a bat to check the vents?
Alex Weir wrote:
Despite your best investigative efforts, the bodies are simply too decayed and damaged to get much useful information from. Still, it is blatantly clear that they have been damaged severely by gunfire.
Carnival. wrote:
Your search of the bodies nets you little, but somethings start to become apparent. These bodies are very damaged, almost to the point of mutilation. They are all full of bullet wounds and many you would swear are look barely human. Knowledge (Religion) DC 11):
A blatant hint that these are zombies (non-functional, of course). One body nets you something of value, what seemingly belonged to a light skinned male of presumably young to middle age: a wallet, within which is a red key card that reads "BASEMENT" and a driver's license belonging to a "Kenny Li".
Assuming everyone is ready, lets get the ball rolling again. Your brief walk through the woods is uneventful, though you keep your eyes peeled nonetheless. An owl hoots, and you hear frogs croak in the distance. After walking for far too long, you come across a clearing and suddenly it comes into view: the facility. The building looks old and worn down. If you had come across it on a simple hiking trip, you might just think the building belongs there. You march around the side of the building, taking in the faded paint and shuttered windows, until finally you see the door on the east side. Stepping up to the door, you are surprised to find it unlocked. Alex Weir wrote: Alex follows the rest of the party, taking up the position of rear guard. Wary of a possible ambush, she keeps a close eye on her surroundings. Your eyes fall on the door as you move forward when Alex notices something on the door, a faint dirty footprint on the door, and cracking around the deadbolt, clear evidence of an attempted break in. Now even more on edge, you take up a marching order and begin to slowly clear the hallway. Dried blood is obviously on the floor, and the walls, despite being semi new, are clearly suffering from violent damage. You pace the hallway in an orderly fashion and calmly, if nervously, open the door. You step out into a large office area, but one obviously in disrepair. Papers are everywhere and the damage to the room implies some sort of fight went down; bullet holes litter the walls, ceiling, and floor, stains of blood are clear in the carpet, and many computer monitors have been smashed. Worst of all, though, are the bodies. Four of them, clearly belonging to people who once simple office drones. Their sickening decay fills the room, and the and even from the distance you are standing it's clear they were victims of brutal violence. If you'd like to investigate any part of the room, just ask and roll for either Perception, Survival, or Health/Knowledge(Nature) (for investigating the bodies).
Kaleo Green wrote:
"There are currently 6 mimics in our care. One of them was close to reproducing before the accident though. As for zombies, we're pretty sure the number caps at 16, but it's not impossible there are less due to fighting between the various specimens in the building."
Julian Jacobs wrote:
While the two big guys smell of sweat and pistol smoke, the smaller fellow explaining the weapon is a bit of a mystery. He smells strongly of something, but you can't identify it. It smells a tad bit like fish? It's the only thing you can compare it to. You smell the animals moving around and in the distance you can hear cars, but nothing stands out as out of the ordinary.
Father Asher Anderson wrote:
"Uh, thanks?" the panda man muttered, before leaving along with his friends. As they walk out, you can hear the rat man (disguised as a dwarf in his human disguise) whisper "I told you people were staring!"
Alex Weir wrote:
”The specimen will get no larger than three feet in diameter before reproducing. No need to worry: it’s sterile, one of the modifications made to the creature ensures that any time it undergoes mitosis it simply ejects cytoplasm without duplicating any dna.” ”Now, as to the device:”
”Projectile deviation and recoil are minimal. Putting it bluntly, it will shoot as straight as you can. That said, you’ll want to aim for the creature’s nucleus: it seems to have a habit of moving erratically.”
Carnival. wrote:
The man raises an eyebrow, seemingly surprised at your professionalism. "There is one thing. I've recently received news that explosives have apparently been heard used within the facility. It's possible that this is just unstable ordinance going off, but regardless: know your back stop, and be careful around the south wing of the basement (rooms 6 and 7)."
Julian Jacobs wrote:
The most recent post will make this clear, but Berto is more like mission control, he doesn't accompany you on jobs.
Berto stands up and shake’s Cillian’s hand. ”Alright then. If everyone is in agreement, we go tonight.”
”The guy in the back wanted me to give this to you.” he whispers as he hands you a note. He then straightens up to yell to Berto: ”Berto! The tab!” Berto wordlessly digs into his pocket and tosses the bartender a gold coin without turning around. ”Keep the change!” he says.
Before you can even consider the note’s meaning, Berto calls the group outside and you all quickly find yourselves shoved into the back of Berto’s van. After a few quick trips to your homes to collect your gear (feel free to add details here), you find yourself driven to the far edge of the city where you find a covered pick up truck parked near the edge of the forest. A trio of men step out. Two are large and intimidating, wearing sunglasses to hide their eyes, while the third is a much smaller man in a polo shirt. He steps up to shake Berto’s hand, to which he eagerly reciprocates.
After answering any relevant questions, he waves goodbye and he and his guards step into their truck and drive away. Berto hands both rifle and containment field to whoever steps forward to grab them, then waves goodbye as he steps into his van.
When the building comes into view, you’ll be on the side of the building that leads to room 7. You’ll have to walk around to get to the other door.
Alright, map is up. Check it out. Also, the Blaze Arms Map now has a room key, though it's a bit sparse on descriptive details right now.
Kaleo Green wrote:
"Ha!" He laughs "You wish. The zombies aren't gonna be taken down by anything that isn't a bullet or sword."
Julian Jacobs wrote: Julian looks between Carnival and Alex and says, ”Mm Hmm, also, is there a room access or security systems still active? Oh, and is there anyone still in the building or can we just go in guns blazing?” The rest of you probably find this amusing since all Julian has is a pocket pistol. ”If they’ve got any kind of decent duct work, I can probably sneak in there and get a look at what we are facing.” "They cut off power to the building after they flooded it with UV light. The worst thing you'd have to worry about is a locked door. If there's anyone in the building, they're not supposed to be there, so you shouldn't worry about collateral damage either. Air ducts are probably a no go, as they are far too small for you to crawl through." He pauses, then smiles. "Although, a bat might be able to sneak through..."
Alex Weir wrote:
"The building is hermetically sealed, and from what they've told me it only dissolves stuff that it's trying to eat. It's a germ: the only things it knows how to do is eat and run away." You outburst surprises him, and he sits up when you raise your voice. "Taking this seriously, are you?" He waves a dismissive hand. "It's nothing serious. Apparently it likes asking people questions about the outside world. If it sees you, it makes you want to stop fighting at just talk to it. The main things they said was don't try to fight it and don't let it touch you. Really, it's nothing to worry about."
Carnival. wrote:
Berto chuckles at the Silent Hill reference. His smile fades at your question of protective gear. "Unfortunately, no. Anything they have that could do that is a bit too expensive for them to just hand off to us. That said, you might not need it: according to them, it only uses acid on things it has grabbed onto, so as long as you don't wrestle with it, you should be fine." "Time frame is a bit more tricky. They gave us a time limit of three days, but the actual job shouldn't take longer than a few hours, barring any particularly bad screw ups." He turns to Asher. "Hey, Father Anderson! What time is that bake sale at the church?"
Father Asher Anderson wrote:
Berto raises an eyebrow and says "No no, Father Anderson, the amoeba is the 'directed bio-weapon'. The Blaze representatives said it was a prototype for a particularly wealthy investor, so they are eager to keep it safe."
”One at a time friends, too many questions and only one Berto!” Berto says jokingly. He begins to flip through the images as he talks. ”Firstly, it’s an amoeba. Kinda like a germ, but bigger. This one, as you can see is quite a bit bigger. The guys at Blaze did some experiments on it, made it stronger, faster, and with a helluva lot more acid. I can’t say much more than that: those Blaze guys were very hush about it, said something about keeping the info confidential. Called it a “directed bio-weapon”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Evidently, something went bad in the lab they contained it in, and it escaped and caused mayhem. Mayhem we’re getting paid stacks to put an end to.” He gives you all a greedy smile and continues. The next image he puts on screen shows a strange metallic weapon, not unlike an smg. ”Capturing it should be no issue. Our employers were willing to provide us with a unique energy weapon that they said should knock it out in one shot, along with a container to keep it in. It is very fast though, and you should be careful getting close to it. One of you shoots it while the rest keep it from bolting, and it should be no problem, barring any recklessness.” He looks directly at Carnival as he finishes his sentence, hinting at a past incident.
Carnival. wrote: "Day was going fine until you told me I missed all the best violence. You know you're not allowed to do that, it's agains' the rules." Nodding over to Julian, Carnival added, "I assume that the idea here is that we're either huntin' your new friends or recoverin' somethin' they pinched." Picking up his doughtnut, he considered for a moment. "That or the story is unrelated, and we're on baked goods sales today." He took a bite. Berto laughs. "Always eager for a scrap, aren't you Carnie?" He looks around the room at the lot of you, then speaks again. "No, there was nothing stolen, and we dealt with that group. Mrs. Thorn and her grunts will deal with whatever flak comes from that. It's none of our business what she gets up to." He pauses, then stands up to start fiddling with the projector. When he turns around again, he's smiling. "Instead, we are going to get to work on something a bit more lucrative. What do you know about Blaze?" Knowledge Local DC 15:
Blaze Arms is a munition company recognizable both to mundanes and the magically initiated. Their weapons end up in the hands of everyone from rabble-rousers like the Sons of Hell to the big shots like the Society of Gilded Oak or the Shield Legion. They have manufacturing plants in various locations in Portland. They have a rivalry with another munition company called Blizzard. Knowledge Local DC 20:
Blaze Arms also does weapons development, and while this includes things like armor piercing rounds and easily concealed guns, their are rumors that they are working on more powerful weapons: futuristic energy launchers, targeted bio-weapons, and civilian vehicles that convert to tanks with the push of a button. He nods at your response, then flips up the projector. A brief video clip appears on screen, showing a giant cell dissolving and devouring a rat in an eye blink before shooting out of frame near instantly. "They're hiring us, to capture this."
Julian Jacobs wrote:
"No no no…" Berto says dismissively with a hand wave. "Not a real giant, just some putz wizard who’s half decent at size distortion. If it was a real giant, I’d have been in some real sh*t." Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Father Asher Anderson wrote:
Berto raises an eyebrow before busting out into laughter, though you get the feeling that it’s a fake laugh judging by the tone. ”Oh, Father. You know me, I’m no good in churches.” He chuckles before leaning in, and more quietly says ”If I went to a confession, there’d be a line!”, before letting out a short chuckle.
Alex Weir wrote:
Knowledge: Dungeoneering:
And since I completely neglected it last time…
Such a small detail is not enough to give you a clear picture. You know that many creatures have claws and you wonder if that could be construed as “shivs”. You also know that some martial artists can focus their body’s energy to form invisible blades, allowing them to cut someone with nothing but their fingertips. Perception: As you leave the room, you catch a final glimpse of Hoodie, and you see that he is writing something, though the angle prevents you from seeing what it is.
The big metal door is at the end of the hall, you didn't walk through it, you just saw it. Berto waits until you have all settled down before taking a donut and seat of his own. He sighs and unzips his jacket, revealing a wife-beater underneath with a hand sized patch of blood on it. "The price I pay for getting tangled up in other people's messes." he grumbles. He looks up at the lot of you and smiles sheepishly. "I can see you are all eager to get started, yeah? I hadn't meant to be so late, but when the Boss asks for a favor, you can't say anything but 'yes'." The name is one familiar and yet distant to you all: you've heard Berto speak a few times about his own employer but it's only ever been complaints and vague descriptions. Still, you've learned from him the seriousness of their commands. "Wasn't even supposed to be that hard: Help Mrs. Thorn (The manager of another Riot Crew team) move a few boxes out of some fella's apartment. 'Course they neglected to mention that those boxes were being repoed." He gingerly puts a hand to his stomach."One second you're moving boxes and the next you've got a 9 foot giant and his muscly friends poking your chest telling you to leave. Some words were said, someone got called tubby, someone got punched in the face, that same someone's three buddies jumped us, and pretty soon things were almost out of hand." He shrugs his head unhappily. "I see someone go after Thorn and what do I get for the trouble?" He angrily lifts his shirt, revealing that his belly wound appears to be a series of five holes jammed into his stomach. "Some crazy kung-master with shivs for fingers perforates me and my second best jacket!" He huffs unhappily before looking down and uttering a dark chuckle. "I got him though." he says, reaching into his jacket pocket and flashing to all of you an SMG tucked into the pocket of his coat. "Took 100 rounds, but I got him. Have to get my jacket fixed, got blood all over my car and had Thorn lecture me about she 'doesn't need my help', but I got him." He sits up and becomes cheerful. But hey," he says. "No need to get bummed over my bad day. How have all of you been doing?"
Cillian "Breach" Gibson wrote: "Berto you prick! Keepin' your best team waitin' like that. I'll be needin' a bloody good story as payment for the wait, looks like you've got one to tell." While the words are harsh, the intonation behind them is not, Breach saying them with a smile as he pushes out a chair for Berto with his foot. "And I story you'll get, Breach, a real nail-biter!" Berto says with a big grin, and as he takes a step closer to you he pushes the chair back into place. "But not in here. Bennie! Our room is ready, yeah?" He says to the bartender. The bartender doesn't even turn around, saying only "Zeta." in response. Berto points to a door on the other side of the bar and motions for you to go there, then stands up and walks over to the bartender to pay for your food. As you follow his silent instructions you find a hallway with 10 doors on each side leading down to final door made of metal. You walk down it until you find a door with a giant Z on it: Zeta, just as the bartender explained. You open the door and step inside, revealing a small space room with rolling chairs, a table with a projector on it, and a table against the far wall with a box of donuts on it and a piece of paper that reads "ENJOY". Soon after you step into the room, Berto joins you.
Father Asher Anderson wrote:
As your eyes flicker over Berto’s form, you focus on the bandaid first, and the bruising around it immediately identifies it as the consequence of a punch to the face. Looking over the rest of him, he seems mostly ok except for what you think must be an injury on the stomach, and though the red color of his jacket hides it well, it’s pretty clearly something that made the big guy bleed. ”Father Anderson, always worrying.” he says calmly, putting a hand on your shoulder. ”But hey, if you weren’t worrying you wouldn’t be doing your job right!” He laughs. ”Just a little bit beat up, nothing to worry about.”
Julian Jacobs wrote: ”Ah, he’s here finally!” exclaims Julian as Berto walks in relaxing his tense posture. Julian hurriedly ushers him over to their table sniffing the air as he walks over, anticipating the smell of blood but curious about what else he might detect. You smell Berto and, as usual, you get the usual smell of sardines that seems to constantly hover on the man, but as you step closer you catch a whiff of a few other unique smells: gunpowder and blood, some Berto’s, some from someone else.
Alex Weir wrote:
”Trouble is such a baited word.” he says smoothly. ”It’s only trouble when you are loosing!” He laughs only to grunt slightly and put a hand to his stomach. ”I’m a little torn up, but you should see the other guy!”
Carnival. wrote: Carnival pointed as the massive bald man entered the bar. "Tab's all his." He looked over at Berto, sunglasses glinting, and with a serious expression on his face added, "You're late, Berto. You have to pay the price for that. I ordered extra cheese on these chill cheese fries. They are..." Carnival paused, and put an evil emphasis on the next word, "Delicious." Berto smiles, revealing the quartet of gold teeth that replace his canines. ”I suppose this is the price I pay for being late.” he says in a thick italian accent. ”I know, how about you get it as a discount on the next suit you tear up, eh?” He lets out a deep belly laugh. ”Only pulling your leg, Carnie. Hey! Bennie!” He shouts to the bartender. ”The food is on me.”
Sorry for the wait. Allow me to get things moving again. 8:20 PM You look around the room, having sat around doing nothing for a near half an hour. You look around the room, ready to either leave and let Berto know how it feels to get left hanging, or call the fat bastard, when your eyes settle on Hoodie. He’s stopped looking at the clock or the people in the room, and now is focused solely on the door. Based on his body language, you can think he might be getting ready to jump to his feet. His mood is clear now: he’s agitated, and ready for action. Your eyes turn to the door, and as if on cue, you see a shape materialize behind it. The bartender notices it as well, and you see him reach under the counter for something. As the door swings open, Hoodie rises to his feet, and a short figure steps into view. ”Hey Al! What’sa matta, fall in the toilet again?” you hear from across the room. Looking over reveals it came from one of the veterans, an older fellow with bleached hair and a bad spray tan. The comment illicit uproarious laughter from his friend, a Native American, and you easily hear the animals behind you join in. The bartender relaxes and a look over at Hoodie reveals that he’s sat down and began writing something. As the new comer goes to sit down with his friends, a new figure follows behind him. 80 inches tall on the dot and practically as big around, this giant African man wears rather casual clothes, a red jacket and a pair of jeans. He hasn’t a hair on the top of his head, and unusually for him, a bandaid hastily covers a split eyebrow. You recognize him on sight: Berto Ardizzone, your manager.
Alex Weir wrote:
I think it can be justified with the bartender not looking super hard at you. He just finds the idea of someone going to a bar and not getting a drink to be funny. ”What? Slow down love, you’re getting it mixed up!” He says with surprise. ”I’m pretty sure that guy ain’t involved with the Sons. And good thing too, because they’re some nasty mofos. The kind of guys dealing in the most exotic and strange concoctions you can think of. White powder that’ll you breathe fire, take a bullet standing, walk around with demons in hell.” He frowns and shakes his head. ”Nasty stuff, and some nasty guys who deal it.” ”Anyway, about a week ago, there was a group of five of em’, and they all sat in the back and got nice and wasted. So they started messing with a few Legionnaires sitting up front near the bar. Things got said, and then the leader pulls a gun out, so everyone goes for their guns, and I’m thinking ‘Damn, about to be a damn shootout in my bar!’” He smiles, with a look that says he still doesn’t know what to think about it. He points at Hoodie, and says ”And that’s when this guy right here, walks right in the middle of that mess, and says something to the guy who started it. Now I don’t know what he said, but it must’a been serious, because that guy went white as a sheet. Put his gun away and just left.” He finishes and goes back to cleaning. ”I don’t know what guy he works for, but it must be somebody real important, to have pull like that.”
Julian Jacobs wrote: Julian sits back, watching Alex and Breach do their thing. As he watches them, he says quietly to Carnival, Father Asher and Kaleo without looking at them, ”Something about this seem fishy to you guys or am I just feeling jumpy?” Hood still up, the folds around his ears change again and his nose becomes blunt and slightly bat like (loose +4 to Perception and gain scent 30 ft). Julian sniffs the air to see if he notices any interesting smells other than the pack of anthropomorphs. The room smells exactly as you would expect it, various kinds of alcohol, sweaty drunks and the sharp stink of tobacco smoke. A sniff in the direction of the bar leaves you curious, though, as you can’t identify about half of what’s there. Additionally, the young black man among the trio of wizards across the room has a strange smell about him that his friends don’t: The stink of a decomposing body, mixed in with the smell of his sweat.
Alex Weir wrote:
The bartender chuckles lightly. "That's funny," he says, in what is obviously a Boston accent. "Askin' the bartender for a glass of water." Nonetheless, he walks over to the tap and fills you a glass of water. The glass is well made, shaped liked the open mouth of an anaconda. As you ask about Hoodie, his eyes flick over to him instinctually, then back to you. He lowers his voice slightly as he answers. "Fella came in here about an hour ago. He's not here often, but when he does it's always the same thing: a margarita and a bottle of Selene's Blessing. Then he takes a seat in the back and watches the bar. I don't know jack about him. All I know is that he's quiet, and he must be a badass." Noticing your expression, he cocks an eyebrow and smiles. "Alright," he says. "Check it. What do you know about the Sons of Hell?" Knowledge (Local) DC 10: The Sons of Hell is a local gang, dedicated to selling unique and mystical drugs, and running stolen weapons.
Cillian "Breach" Gibson wrote:
As you get closer to him, two more things stand out about Hoodie. First, it's clear that he's wearing some kind of mask (Like this only solid black), which he keeps having to lift slightly in order to enjoy his drink, apparently a margarita. The second thing is more subtle, enough that you might not notice it unless you're looking for it: no matter how he moves, the lights overhead never illuminate him. It's as if he's sitting in a permanent shadow. Hoodie doesn't seem to acknowledge your presence, looking at his phone (now that you're closer you can see that he's apparently using it to check the time), then peering over your shoulder to check the door, before his eyes briefly fall on you as he does his visual check around the room, before sitting back down again. He remains silent, seemingly ignoring you, before evidently realizing that you're not going to go away, then sighs. "Now's not a good time to talk." He finally says. His voice is a lot younger than you'd first expect, belonging to someone just past their teen years. He doesn't sound the least bit intimidated or even excited, saying it the same way you might say goodbye to someone. "I'm kind busy right now, so a conversation is going to have to wait."
Alex Weir wrote:
Looking at the way the trait is worded, I’ll take the more open interpretation and say that it applies as written: diplomacy and knowledge (religion) are flat trait bonuses, and survival for tracking applies only to the undead. As for if you don’t know what you’re tracking, I would think that part of tracking involves figuring out what you’re tracking. Maybe a Knowledge check to determine if you can tell the difference, which then determines if you get the bonus.
”What about Alucard?” You hear a slurred voice call out to you a table over. You turn to see the hyena chick has turned to face your table, and is giving you a quizzical look. Before she can get another word out, her friend the crow interrupts her. ”No way, dude!” she begins. ”That’s the name of an anime character, I told you that this morning!” Both women immediately start bickering, evidently over some argument had earlier in the day. The reptilian man smiles and laughs while the rat man just facepalms. In the background, you see the wizard trio all doing their best not to laugh at the situation.
A listen in on the vets doesn’t reveal anything too shocking. Both simply talk about their experiences in the field. Granted, that usually doesn’t entail fight witches in Vietnam or having a suicide bomber stand back up after he’s already blown himself up, but you can’t be too surprised, being where you are. Eventually, it starts to become clear that the two men are waiting for a man named Albert, who they expect to show up any minute. One jokes about it, saying ”You know Albert. Dumb bastard could lost walking across a football field!” illiciting laughter from his friend.
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