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Zeke steps out as well, and shrugs his shoulders. Exploding into sudden action has always been his style, but there is something to be said about stretching beforehand... "I guess we'll meet at the rewards ceremony, then? After a drink, of course. Unless you care to face me in the eating contest!" Zeke grins widely and folds his arms over his chest. "I should warn you, though, that I've been known to pack away quite a meal."
Zeke laughs at Mon's concern for her clothing. "Wear them with pride, friend! Not everyone can claim they survived, well, dying. It's quite a story to tell." He turns to the clerics and waves them over. "I think we're all a little beat up, here. Could use some help with staying on our feet?" As they approach, though, he looks toward the spot where the strange men appeared. "Wonder what that was all about. And what's an Agarel?"
Zeke stumbles back from the explosion, rolling across the ground, and when he comes up he gives a grin. It fades when he sees Mon's broken form, though, and dashes over, suddenly quite easy on his feet. He crouches beside her and prepares to try his mightiest to save her, when the other men arrive. He watches on as they restore her to life, and a moment later Zeke wraps his arms around her shoulders. "You're far too fine a fighter to die so soon," he says.
Zeke grunts as the chains slam into him, knocking air from his lungs, but he stays on his feet. He locks his eyes on the golem and claps his hands as he sways back and forth. "I guess you're a fighter!" As he crouches down and his fist begins to glow with power, he winks. "Good thing I'm one, too!" With that, he strikes, a powerful uppercut that knocks the golem back with its force.
Zeke spends little time preparing for the fight; he steps into a powerful stance, takes a deep breath, and dashes forward at speed. When he closes tot he golem and it has an opportunity to strike him, he suddenly staggers and somersaults forward. At first it appears that he's drunkenly stumbled, tripped over his own feet, but then he rolls back to standing and leaps forward without missing a beat. The maneuver may have even avoided the golem's attack entirely!
Once in close with the creation, Zeke slams his fist into its center, using his momentum to add extra weight and power to the blow!
Zeke tosses Mon a sidelong smile and cracks his neck.
"Waitweprobablyshouldn'tohkaynevermind--" Zeke tries to stop his new companion before she leaps into the ring, but is unable to do so. He hurriedly follows behind her, shrugging and smiling sheepishly at those he presses past, and leaps down to follow her, landing lightly on the arena floor.
He drains what's left of his drink after landing and brings his hands up, beginning to sway slightly on his feet. "Hope this isn't breaking too many rules, but I've never been one to let someone fight alone."
Let's cool it with the arguments in Gameplay. That's what the Discussion thread is for, and even more importantly, that's what the GM is for. DM Forgedawn will let us know if we're doing anything that we shouldn't, including in-character comments on potential background info we might have.
"Ah, yes! I, too, have trained with the martial masters, learning the ancient styles. My preference is the Dragon, although the Snapping Turtle lends some defenses. It's been some time since I was at the monastery, though..." Zeke shrugs and winks. "I'm not so sure about a sparring match, though. Punching bags is one thing, but I usually don't throw punches at someone for fun."
Zeke smiles and nods. "Fair enough. You truly are an astounding fistmonger, my friend." He turns to Mon and gives a small bow. "Might you share with me some secrets of your technique? There are many roads to enlightenment, and one must walk them all to... Wait, no." He scratches his bald scalp and screws up his face in thought. "Is it, only by walking many paths do we find our destination? Or maybe the road to perfection is as wide as several roads. But then it's still one road... Um, something something, trial and error, jumping from path to path, make a big circle, Nirvana?" He turns back to the vanara and grins. "In any case, I'd love to know a bit more about how you punch so hard. Maybe tell me about it over a fight down at the arena? Or a drink."
I'd be okay with it. ....Are they going to punch things? I hope they're going to punch things.
Zeke laughs aloud and claps Mon on the shoulder. "Truly an epic blow! But BEHOLD! The Truly Awe-Inspiring Tremendous Single-Hit Shattering Perfect Punch, Seventh Iteration!" The man adopts a low stance and inhales deeply, holding the air and straining as his face turns a deep beet red. His muscles flex and bulge, and a low groaning sound is heard. Then, in the fraction of a second before he strikes, he shifts his footing, placing the power of his entire body behind the punch, and his fist surges forward, slamming into the bag with tremendous force!
"Ky-!" Zeke heaves a breath regardless of whether the bag bursts or not, and looks down at his fist. "And that's not even full power. I could use a drink, though."
Zeke is smiling and grinning as he gets off the caravan. His first stop in town is a stand offering any sort of hard drinks--he has a small personal store, but he'd rather save it and support the local economy at the same time! He then takes a look around at the competitions available. The eating contest draws his eye, but he contemplates the brawling contest and the Sun Arena as well. Sensei would probably frown on using my skills for show and profit... but then, she frowned on the drinking, too. Eventually he chuckles to himself, laughing off his hesitations, and steps up to the brawling contest, seeking to test his arm there before moving toward something closer to a real fight in the arena. He comes up to watch before participating, and glances at the female vanara nearby with a grin. "Looking to try your strength? Which one of us do you think will bust it first?"
Yeah, Zeke's an offensive machine. The short version of his backstory is that he's on a quest to create the perfect punch--his own path to self-enlightenment and perfection. The end-goal is to make use of more feats and abilities that'll come along the way to deal as much damage as possible in a single hit. I too am very amused by this group. Against unstoppable odds, three heroes are going to punch giant magic robots in the face.
Dotting in, I'm here. Alias is updated, I'll be changing the picture and posting up the background shortly.
Zeke grunts as the lightning bolt crashes into him, but he stays on his feet, setting his weight and planting his sword into the floor for additional leverage. "You think your gadgets will save you? You die today."
Zeke pauses for a moment, the fight slowing around him as his perception widens out. There are plenty of raiders, of course, but he'd heard a voice of command from above... and that was where he needed to be. "I'll be right back," he says, shoving his last target aside as he bolts upstairs to find--and kill--the leader.
Sprinting up the stairs, Zeke looks around. If he lays eyes on a man who looks different than the others--bigger, better gear, anything defining like that--he lunges forward with a fierce chop and a snarl, aiming for the neck. Otherwise, he just puts his sword in whoever presents a good opportunity.
Zeke falls under the concussive blast, and sprawls across the floor, barely keeping hold of his sword. He staggers to his feet quickly enough, though, and keeps his head about him as chaos erupts alongside gunfire and multiple vehicles bursting into the building. Seeing Nilus take a shot, the Templar moves to confront the gunman, rushing forward and stabbing his sword into the man's chest.
I'm here. Patiently waiting to slash up some raiders. And/or get shot.
Hey all, posting in all my games to say that as of this evening I'm going camping with family and then paintballing for several days, so I won't be able to post. I'll be back the evening of Sunday the 10th, and hopefully I'll be back to regular posting and catching up then or Monday morning. Please bot me as needed while I'm away! (Zeke will probably just start slashing away as soon as possible.)
Zeke revs his bike's engine to life and roars forward, driving straight for the building. Coming up alongside it, he sweeps the motorcycle sideways and launches himself from its seat, hurtling into one of the windows back-first, curling into a ball as he does so. The Templar crashes through the glass and rolls to his feet on the other side, bringing up his sword--and if he has the opportunity to do so, moving to cover.
"Their survival instinct isn't always so hot either. Surprisingly." Zeke spits on the ground next to his idling bike and then jerks his head toward the building. "Let's ride up. I'll take point. Seeing a Templar cross is likely to get 'em either riling for a fight or eager to talk, depending on smarts and self-preservation. By which I mean, have that turret ready to fire." The one-eyed man takes a moment himself to check that his short-barreled, ancient-looking shotgun is fully loaded with shells, and seeing that he is, he pops the ejected shell back into the internal magazine. After that, he taps the handle of his sword, stuck in easy reach even on the motorcycle, and then revs the engine and heads down the road again.
Zeke grunts in appreciation when Jane finds the trail, and gets back on his bike. Catching Aaron's comment on not letting guns go to waste, he pats the grip of his shotgun and reaches back to make sure he can grab his sword with ease. One of the reasons he liked motorcycles came to mind: you can fight from driving without much trouble. It wouldn't be the first time he'd fired a shot or cut someone down from the seat of a moving bike, if it came to that.
Zeke pulls his bike over as well, and dismounts to kneel down alongside Max. "Better at just making my own way than following others, but..." He runs his fingers over the rough ground, looking for any telltale signs.
"...No, nothing." Zeke sighs and stands up, peering off down the road. "Any thoughts on which way to go?"
Zeke stands by while the others go to work on the Hummer, listening to the conversation but not feeling any need to give much input. The fact it drifts to Pre-War times is good for Nilus, as far as Zeke figures, and the fact his new companions are so willing to divulge information about themselves is only more helpful. He takes a couple pulls from his bottle--which he asks to be topped off again as part of the supplies deal--and polishes his sword while he waits. Once things are up and running, he slings his pack on and cracks his fingers. "Ready when you are. Nilus, you wanna ride with Max? He's good people, and he's got a lotta ideals about justice you'd like." The Templar tosses a wink with his good eye at the cyborg, and pats his shotgun to double-check that it's strapped on and secure as he makes for one of the other motorcycles.
Hey all, finally back and ready to post. Zeke would honestly just donate the bullets to the town. He doesn't need the cash right now, and certainly doesn't need the bullets.
"I think we should too," Zeke says, nodding at his younger companion's words. "But dammit, Nilus, stop worrying about 'powers of arrest' and 'deputization' and 'Miranda rights.' The waste ain't the world we used to live in, and you can't always go by the book. Sometimes it's up to us to just lay down the law the best we can." He sighs and takes off his sunglasses, folding them and sliding them back into a jacket pocket. "What do you know about these 'Gearheads,' ma'am?" He turns his eye to gaze sidelong at the rest of the party. "And if we're doing introductions, in case you didn't hear, name's Zeke."
Zeke turns to Max, and now that the facade is all but shattered, he nods. As he adjusts the pack's set on his shoulders, he unclasps one of the jacket's few buckles and it falls open, revealing the white tabard emblazoned with red cross underneath. "I believe we did, Max. And in similar circumstances, if memory serves. I see you're still up to your old tricks." As the cyborg moves to inspect the Hummer, Zeke approaches the sheriff. "Sheriff, what sort of revenge might you get for this, if any? Is this the whole gang, or do they have friends?" He slings his pack down to his elbow for a moment, pulls out the bottle, and then shifts it back. "I'd hate to think we just caused you folks more trouble."
Maybe a bike or two would also be good. That way we're split up some and can ride in style. Other than potentially that, though, Zeke won't be taking any of the loot; he doesn't really need any of it.
Zeke clambers down from the vehicle and wipes his sword clean on an oiled rag from one of his jacket pockets. Once he reaches his pack, he slides the weapon away and shoulders the bag. "True," he responds to Nilus. "I'd prefer they'd surrendered without a fight, and it's a shame some of us were hit. But we settled it before there was too much damage done."
Zeke seizes the initiative brought on from his new allies' fire and plants his feet firmly. "Your friends will be on their way soon," he growls, and rams his sword through the raider boss's throat.
In the brief moment when the raiders break through the gate, Zeke simply grasps the handle from his pack and draws. It reveals a simple but sturdy blade, gleaming in his hands: a sword, albeit with a makeshift hilt. Bringing it up, Zeke stands strong in the face of the raiders' assault.
Although he takes a grazing hit from the spray, it only glances off his armor, and Zeke begins moving forward. His first slow step becomes a jog, which turns into a full-on sprint, and he leaps forward, springing onto the hood of the Hummer.
Once on the car, Zeke brings his sword up. "There's no question of trying--and you'll be the first to go." With that, he plunges the weapon forward, slashing furiously at the turret gunner.
Zeke strides up the street, all pretense of an old, tired wanderer cast off at this point. He stands before the gate, far enough back that he wouldn't be hurt if it's knocked or blown open, but still near enough to the entry. There, he drops his pack off his shoulders to the ground, where the handle of whatever it is sits about as high as his thigh, angled across. Folding his arms, the man sets his feet and calls out in response to the raiders. "Hello, sh*theads. I'm gonna give you one chance to turn around to whatever sh*thole you crawled out of before I personally send you to Hell." His voice, strong and clear, makes it plain that he intends to follow through on this promise.
"Sounds like we should have a word with 'em, then." At this point, Zeke reaches into his jacket and pulls out a pair of dark sunglasses, which he slides on over his patch. "Nilus, help as you can, but don't get too close." With that, he pushes back out of Pinky's saloon and into the street, moving towards the sound of the raiders.
Zeke looks at the window at Pinky's comment and the growing roar of engines, and nods--mostly to himself--as Max speaks his thoughts. Same man, good. "Pinky, you got a bathroom?" Assuming he does, Zeke quickly shuffles to it, where he rips the tabard and armor from his pack and dons them. The tabard keeps bunched under the jacket for now, with only a small bit of white fabric poking out; no need to announce his presence until the time comes. When he returns to the main bar, Zeke looks almost the same, although there's some obvious armor and the jacket adds a bit of bulk to his form, and he stands a little straighter. All the while, he listens for Pinky's response to Max's question, waiting to hear what the situation is.
"The Combine, by my understanding, is a collection of some of the West's lowest scum, thugs, murderers, and general crooks, all led by a pre-war madman with dreams of conquest. They're well-armed crooks and thugs, though, with a whole lot of shiny toys as old as their leader." He cocks his head and glances at Aaron. "That sound about right?"
Zeke glances to the bartender and sits, listening to Aaron's story. It sounds a little wild to believe, but there isn't any real sense of lying in the man's voice, and besides, it'd take someone with a big pair of balls and not much to lose to make up a tale about something like this. "Combine, eh? Suppose you're right, then. Don't much mind you taking one of their trucks. That's quite a story, though." Zeke pauses and looks to the door. "Might be you'd want to keep that quiet from most folks. Not reveal yourself, as it were."
Zeke looks at Nilus and draws in a deep breath. The kid's right--don't want to go starting a fight. That was never the plan, but stepping back might be good. Sh*t, this must be what it's like to have a squire. Wonder if it was the same for Serena. He sighs. Probably not, seeing as I was older than her. But let's not go back there, Zeke. "The boy's right. I did say let's stay civil, so let's have us a sit-down to chat this out."
Zeke stares at Aaron, interested in the way the man suddenly seems more sober and able. Unbeknownst to him, a bit of information is gleaned through psychic power: Ezekiel Fightmaster, Knight Templar. "I'm not asking for proving, just asking for answers. Man looking like me walks in, clearly off the road, and you ask me for work. Now I'm wondering if you aren't just some drunk after all, on account of you're talking and standing pretty fine, and now I hear you stole a truck." He pauses and stares the other man down. "Maybe we got off on the wrong foot, stranger, so let's try and be civil once more. Who'd you steal a truck from?"
"Maybe not, but you've got to rely on instinct these days, and my gut likes this one less than the booze." Zeke leans on the counter and eyes Aaron. "On the contrary, I care very much. What's that about stealing a truck?"
Zeke turns to the bald man beside him and raises his eyebrow, regarding the man as he takes a swig from his bottle. He licks his lips a couple times and sets the bottle down. "Why in the hell would I know somewhere that has work when I just got here? And what makes you think I'd give it to the fool so deep in the tin he forgot to pay?" Shaking his head, he pulls a matchbook from a pocket and flips it to Jane. "And they say I'm a hopeless drunk." He takes another pull from his bottle and pops the cork back in. "Used to say the Lord helps them that help themselves. Same goes for most folks nowadays."
Zeke pushes into Pinky's saloon after Jane, although he doesn't cast so much as a sidelong glance her way once inside. The haggard-looking man makes his way to the bar, where he thunks his pack on the counter next to the bald man's cap. Reaching inside, he rummages for a few moments, pushing aside the Wilson-wrapped handle of some tool sticking out of the top, before pulling out a largish glass bottle. It's difficult to determine what might be inside, considering both the dusty outside of the bottle and the off-color, not-quite-clear nature of the liquid. "What's the cheapest you have?" Zeke glances at the bald man moaning for a drink, but mostly keeps his attention focused on the bartender. "Just enough to top me off."
Zeke pauses as the gate guard tells them where to go for what they desire, and he glances back again to Nilus, hoping to catch the lad's eye and subtly motion him to follow. At the mention of somewhere to "wet your whistle," though, the odd woman set off again. Hoping the young man follows, Zeke begins shuffling after her once more. Good to stop there anyway, need to top off my own bottle.
Zeke nods at Nilus's thoughts. "Not bad, not bad. Coming to a decision more quickly is better, though." The Templar considers offering his own thoughts, but is cut off by another shout from the rider, this time directed at the pair. "No Consequence, hah!" he wheezes, putting an elderly rasp into his voice. "Ain't that the truth." The woman catches his eye though, shaking her head as she enters the town. Odd. Leaving Nilus to decide whether he wants to stick around with the bike man or follow, Zeke shuffles after Jane, wanting to keep an eye on her. When Max called out, the memory clicked; the cyborg definitely falls under "good guy" territory as far as Zeke is concerned.
One of the other men at the entrance of the town turns to regard the other travelers. He looks as though he could be rather tall, were it not for the stooped back under a makeshift pack. Wearing a homemade outfit of leathers and old fabric, complete with trailing jacket and hood, and with a bristly beard suggesting days out in the wastes, the man fits the bill of a wandering hermit. The only things of interest about him are his surprisingly ugly face, scratched with scars and a patch over one eye, and the short-barreled, lever-action firearm in a holster on his thigh. Zeke regards the other arrivals with a stern eye, and turns to his companion. "Well Niles, what do you think? Good guys, bad guys?" He squints back at the man on the bike. "Feel like I've seen that one before."
My posting is sporadic and erratic, but I can usually get up a post or two a day if there's something moving. Sometimes that number goes up or down based on other stuff I have to work on, but almost always 1 check-in and post can happen as a player. I'm Eastern U.S. Time, so there's that. I'm certain Zeke's heard of Jane, at least in her aftermath. He probably doesn't know her specifically, or even if she's the cause of the troubles or just an unfortunate bystander, but he may well have heard of her. As for the Northwest, Zeke spends probably most of his time at least vaguely in the region, although he's moved back and forth some distance since leaving his hometown. Maybe he stopped by the mutant town at one point to see if they needed and deserved help, or he and Richie had a chance encounter? EDIT: GM, I think you mentioned Belknap before, at least IRL, but I don't recall if there was any particular reason for our characters to be there beyond happenstance. Is there anything happening there that would draw us to that settlement in particular, and perhaps give our characters some connection?
Hey everyone! Great to game with you and I look forward to the campaign! Should be a lot of fun. I know that Niles and I are planning to have our characters already know each other by game start, but what about anybody else? Although it's a big wasteland, it's easily feasible that some of our characters could have met before the campaign, especially given that Zeke's backstory involves some wandering around trying to help people. |
