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Freedom City Guidebook

Freedom City PBP: A How-To Guide



Everything posted by EviscerusNox

  1. Spitfire moved around the shop inspecting the hodgepodge of items. They reminded him of the roadside freak shows and macabre trinkets he'd been sidled with in his youth. People always wanted to believe the monkey stitched to a fish was the fiji mermaid. This seemed similar, and equally unbelievable. Max was fairly certain this "shaman" walked his dream path more often than he guided others, and by that Max meant he sampled his own supply way too much, still, Jann seemed to like him, seemed almost reverent in fact, which he hadn't been for basically anybody else since he met the young man. Max shook his head baffled by it all. "We're actually here about that guru, and Latin Ink, and Chopper. We're from outta town and let's just say this guru stirred up trouble where we're from and we kinda want to see he pays his dues. Sadly he's chosen your town in which to hide, and gotten your ne'er do wells doin' even worse stuff. So we gotta take him out and sadly yer right, there is gonna be blood. We're here to warn ye, and to tell ya that when the dust settles, the town'll be yours again, hopefully."
  2. Max jumped in the car next to Flare grinning. "Sounds great! Let's go see the medicine man!" Max turned to Jann "They'll get a kick outta you thunderbird! Honestly though, I don't want the town to suffer either, if I can find a way for this brawl to go down outside city limits that'd suit me just fine. It's always easier for me to let loose when property damage isn't a concern. If you couldn't tell I have what you might call 'impulse control.' So buildings tend to burn down around me when I get distracted."
  3. Ok that brings it around to AA
  4. Spitfire didn't get back to his trailer till almost an entire day later. Stumbling in the door he immediately went to the sink and started scrubbing his hands. Soot and blood mingled with the water turning the sink a brownish black. His hands were shaking and his chest heaved beneath his burned and ruined shirt. Looking up into the window to look out in the night he caught his transluscent reflection in the mirror. Fire was still pouring out of his mouth, his face covered in soot, hair matted with blood, eyes dark and hollow. He started shaking. Not even recognizing himself, he finally noticed a background noise and turned. He had left the TV on. "No casualties as of yet in tonight's surprise burning of a warehouse in The Fens. Police believed the building to be the headquarters of a local gang known to sell drugs in The Fens. This seems to be supported by the individuals found bound outside the building, tied to a lamp post. The worst injuries among them were some broken bones and second degree burns, none of them are being held in intensive care. Still police are looking into the possibility of a new vigilante in The Fens, one who unlike many of our heroes, has little restraint. The fire chief proclaimed it a miracle that the fire didn't spread to other nearby -" The television exploded into flames as Max screamed at it. Luckily he had the where-with-all to keep the fire small and contained so he didn't lose his home as well tonight. The smoldering TV offered a little light for a moment but was soon extinguised, leaving the trailer bathed in fitful moonlight. Max went back to trying to scrub the last few hours off his hands and his mind when he saw the glass of orange juice on the counter. The one he'd given Moira. "Dear Lord, what have I done?" Max absently opened a cabinet and pulled a bottle of scotch from it, then set down on his couch, assuredly ruining it's upholstery. Max looked over to the shower, he knew he should take one, but he couldn't bring himself to do anything but bring that bottle to his lips and back down to his lap. Memories of just a few hours before haunted him, seeming a lifetime ago. Max finally found the strength to stand up, but found that he didn't have the sobriety to stay upright, and fell down onto the floor. "Hell with it." Max slurred, bringing the bottle back to his lips and taking a long gulp before falling into darkness and unconsciousness. His last thought was the he hoped he was too drunk to dream.
  5. Zealot quickly caught on to the flying lady's schtick and growled. "It is your true colors that have been exposed witch! Fearing a fair fight? Fearing the sting of Witchbreaker as you should." For emphasis Zealot held aloft the crackling scourge then whipped it back and forth menacingly, sounds like cracking thunder shaking the air between Zealot and the Sunhawk. "It is always those who wear such pagan idolotry that show their true nature, the nature of a yellow cur!" Zealot took up a defensive stance and waited, doing his best to keep an eye on the Sunhawk and Ronin below.
  6. Prince Ak'kar Diaspora: The Trek Outwards (3) Spitfire Dry Run (2) Gun Run (9) Ink! (1) GM Giving Up the Ghost (5) All GM points go to Spitfire
  7. Ak'kar looked upon the scene with horror. Something was controlling these people like marionettes. Perhaps a hive mind? Ak'kar forced himself to adopt a regal pose and put his hands behind his back, then called out to the possessed men. "I am Ak'kar Kalmari, true heir to the throne of Illthus, and Captain of this ship. Your attempts to commandeer it have been thwarted. Any further violence will be met with severe reprocussions. Whatever you are, you who controls these men, leave now and I promise an armistice. Stay, and I shall strike you down with the righteous fury bestowed upon my person as Prince of Illthus."
  8. Ok so Zealot will hold his action, bringing it to Ronin!
  9. Spitfire's eyebrows shot up and ran over to Flare's car. "Hey dollface hold up a sec. So the Latin Kings are wanting this plot of land eh? Think maybe they'd be willing to go to war? A nice biker gang war would be pretty good cover to get in there and mess up Happy. After that we can mop up what's left of the biker gangs and give this town back to it's people. Whatya think Bird?" Spitfire said turning back to Jann. "Besides Flare, you kinda owe us more than just a note saying "bad guy is here." You say you sold these Latin Kings not so good guns. Mayhaps you can let rumor spread that the good shipment actually went to this Chopper and his gang, and that you're hiding out with them cuz you know the Kings ain't got the stones to go after Chopper. Might work yeah?"
  10. Max smiled at her flirty quips then turned to Bird of Arms and gave a polite nod. Max had spent very little time with the youth but he seemed a no nonsense type and he liked that about him, even though Max was the complete opposite. "Biker gangs eh? If he hasn't gotten hold of all their minds yet maybe I could infiltrate them? Come in as someone looking to join? I do own a motorcycle and have a bunch of tattoos so I have the prerequisite outfit. Of course I'm just as likely to get wammied if I do that. Birdie wouldn't be able to pull it off having wings and all. Flare might make a convincing "old lady" as they call 'em. Whatcha think?"
  11. Zealot growled at Lady Horus' insults and shot back in a clipped manner, "Don't you ever shut up!?" Then pulled off his belt a crossbow and fired at the floating woman. The bolt sailed wide and Zealot cursed under his breath, looking to find that he had put himself yet again between the two heroes. Seeing this as an untenable strategic situation, Zealot moved into the shadows and teleported yet again, this time to the top of the church in the shadow of the bell tower. He made no move to hide, however, as that had proved to be fruitless. "I shall strike you both down with the righteous fury of my Order! Your taunts are hollow woman, and after I deal with you, your little friends are next!"
  12. Zealot will pull out a crossbow and shoot at Lady horus! Crossbow attack: 1d20+14 20 That's a miss Move action he will teleport again, this time to the top of the church (I'd say it's 60' up if it's important to you!) Ronin is up! Will post shortly
  13. Maxie never did much like Arizona. Too dry and bland. Everything painted in just reds and oranges, it got downright monotonous to him. Sure some people thought it was pretty country but those people were what Max liked to call: completely bonkers. Still, the drive down on his bike was fun, and he had to remind himself that this wasn't like the last time he left Freedom City. He wasn't running away now, he was here to help his home, not flee it. Max slowed to a gravelly crunching stop in front of Flare, dismounting the bike and smiling widely despite the obvious dust that caked his face where the goggles hadn't covered. "Flare my love! Long time no see! Tell me you missed me at least a little bit." Max winced exaggeratedly when he saw her nose. "Oooh. I didn't do that did I? No hard feelings right darlin'? You had just stabbed me after all."
  14. Zealot jumped from the yell, surprised at the ferocity from one he had assumed little more than like the thugs that had hired him. The pellets struck home on his chest, but thanks to the armor left no wounds. The force did propel him out of the nearby window however and Zealot found himself on his back in the shadows. Snarling a curse, Zealot melted into the shadows, phasing from his current location to one just under the eaves of the church behind Ronin. He did his best to stay quiet, to get the drop on this do gooder, but a twig snapped beneath his foot that he had not seen.
  15. sense motive: 1d20+10 13 He is flat footed! Toughness Save: 1d20+10 23 So not injured by the blast Strength check vs trip: 1d20+3 14 and is tripped out the window! Seeing that Ronin isn't as much of a slouch as he thought he'll use this opportunity to teleport through shadows and go into stealth mode Stealth: 1d20+15 23 that's terrible, but maybe y'all won't see him
  16. Sorry, should have made that clear in the beginning AA. We'll say she's out of HP for now. Ronin has 2 And it is his turn! just to be clear on the state of things: Lady Horus - Injured/bruised -0 HP Ronin - No injuries - 2 HP Zealot - No injuries (after healing from the vampiric strike) Thugs - running for the hills or KO'ed
  17. Max wasn't known for his ability to patiently think about a problem and come up with a grand solution. He was always more of the rush in type, not think about it and rely on his skills and luck to see him through. However, he did see Jann's point and now that his heartbeat had slowed and adrenaline wasn't pumping through his endocrine system he was bone tired, he was even finding it hard to think. Max wasn't even sure if he could make it home without passing out, let alone escorting these two to a precinct first. "Damnit all yer right, Tweety. Ain't none of us in a condition to take on this guy right now. Best to sleep on it, heal up, and get some intel." Max looked over to the two girls and frowned, thinking as furiously as his sluggish brain would allow. "These two are a pain in the ass but, I can't in good conscience send Elsa here to her death, and Red was just tryin' to help a friend. They are misguided. Maybe dangerous, but I don't think they're necessarily bad people. How do you feel about sendin' them off with a stern warning? Maybe they change their ways? Help us later maybe?"
  18. The attack from Lady Horus would have downed a lesser man. Hell it would have downed a lesser tank. But somehow the silvery steel clad Zealot rolled with the blow despite being completely fooled by her act of dropping her ankh. Grunting in pain and spinning in a circle as pellets rang off his breastplate. Zealot kept turning to make his foes think the blow had spun him around and laid him low, but at the last second whipped back around with the crackling scourge Witchbreaker, finding purchase on the ankh wielding woman before him. Zealot spared a sneer and a glare for Ronin as he lashed out with Witchbreaker, letting the man know in no uncertain terms that he had drawn the Zealot's ire. "You will know pain, foolish soldier!"
  19. That is actually barely a miss! Brings it around to Zealot who will: Use acrobatic bluff to try and get Lady Horus Flat footed Acrobatics roll for Bluff as move at -5: 1d20+15 23 Then hoping that drops her guard will power Attack his whip for 4 and all out attack for 4 Attack roll pow attack 4 all out 4 (Vampiric Strike): 1d20+14 27 So that hits will need a sense motive and a toughness save vs dc29! The thugs for their part lose their gumption and run for the door!
  20. Fearing for the lives of his men, Ak'kar barrelled towards the shots heedless of the danger. His skin rippled from blue to to deep red in anger. Ak'kar didn't look to see if any of his men were behind him, they would either follow him or follow instructions to help the injured and restrain the passengers. As each foot struck the metal grate flooring with a resounding clang memories flashed into his mind of dark corridors, rattling explosions, and ragged scared breaths taken on a dead run out of a Grue prison. Even in the face of all those days of torture that escape had been what truly haunted him. The fear, the adrenaline, and the faces he passed, still stuck in cells, as he made good his escape haunted him. At times he felt that was the last time he'd been truly alive, at others, he felt that maybe he deserved to die for leaving those other poor souls behind, despite knowing that if he stopped he and whoever he freed would have died. Shaking his head and heating up his projectile tentacle Ak'kar redoubled his speed towards the sounds of gunfire.
  21. Max thought on that for a second. If Snowbird and Flare called the all clear, maybe brought one of them in to this Happy Man as a hostage they could get the drop on him and lay him down before he could put whatever whammy he puts on people. This would of course require them to have some trust in the two very mercenary people who have admitted being scared of this Happy Man. Though if it possibly bought them their freedom it might be a fair trade to them. Max turned to Jann and said in a hushed tone. "She has a point, if they can help us, get us close to the guy, we might get the drop on him and end this. That means letting these two free though and I don't know how I, or you, might feel about that. I'm willing to let them walk if they promise to never come back after this, but it's up to you."
  22. Ak'kar strode ahead of his men, trying to be cautious but also at an urgent pace. Hopefully most of the crew and mutineers started breathing again on their own, but he wanted to get to them as soon as possible. Ak'kar's tentacles whirred and swayed as he walked, the energy projection tentacle glowing in anticipation of a fight. "Keep close men, and be ready. Some of the hardier mutineers and men may be conscious still. Be ready to help the wounded and those that have stopped breathing. I don't want to lose a single one of my men or my passengers, understood?" Ak'kar heard a few "aye"s from behind and saw in his periphery a few nods. Mostly he was repeating previous orders but he felt it did his men good and put them both on alert and at ease to hear his voice.
  23. Max's brow furled in actual confusion. "What, you mean yer actually lost? Not metaphorically? Huh, that's a new one. I'm not the best with directions but you tell me where yer headed and I can maybe point the way. Though Lynn here has been here way longer than me so she'd definitely be able to tell you how to get wherever yer goin'. Ain't that right Lynn?" Max winked at Lynn and sipped his scotch.
  24. "Don't give me the "oh woe is me" schtick. You may have had a bad break but you sold guns to murderers. My sympathy only goes so far in the case of those who are accomplice to killing innocents. That being said, I do know some people with possible connections who could get you what you need in or out of prison, maybe. I ain't without a heart darlin'. So I'll promise ya this: I won't just let ya die okay?" Max really was at a loss on what to do with Snowbird, despite his bravado. On one hand, she was a criminal, on the other, if she was telling the truth, turning her over would mean killing her. Could he do that? Could he sentence a woman to death like that? His gut reaction was that he needed more information to make the right decision but he knew, deep down, that no amount of information would make that decision easier, or righter. Listening to Jann's experience did make it seem like it was a possible mental attack. Spitfire didn't remember seeing any explosives go off, other than the bag he jumped on top of. "Great, so a super powerful psychic who turns anyone he wants into junkies looking to do anything for a fix? That's not at all disconcerting. How do we get close to someone like that? How do we defend against it? I may be over estimating him, but it's better to think worse case scenario and be wrong then assume a cake walk." For the first time of the night Max was at a loss on what to do next. He wasn't even sure what to do with the bad guys he already had captured, let alone how to defeat the one behind all this. Max took a step back, slumping slightly, frustrated and feeling outclassed. What am I gonna do? He thought desparately.
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