Shadowboxer

Cool! Thanks Heridfel.

Cool! Thanks Heridfel.

Shinken appears to freeze up and responds by poking his sword at Nightrival, who can't help but slightly cock his head at seeing his esteemed opponent suddenly revert to a meager defense. I'll take what I can get, he thinks. With his hand still firmly clenched around Shinken's wrist, Nightrival bends his knees and following the imaginary arc he smoothly tosses Shinken five feet away. His armoured opponent lands on his back with a resounding thud. Nightrival draws wide circles with his arms and then immediately tenses into a Shaolin stance, facing down his fallen opponent. He grins underneath his mask. "C'mon, Shinken. I know you can do better than that," he says playfully. -- A superhero? Calling me at work? Wow. No one except Master Lee knows about Nightrival. It's not like my training is public knowledge. I'll have to talk to Master Lee about this. But Shinken seems like a decent guy. I'll see what he has to say. "Shinken?" he replies coolly, "yeah, I've heard of you. You've done some good work. Good to know that some capes rely on skill rather than fancy powers." For a brief moment, Liam weighs his options. This could be an opportunity to test his prowess against a much tougher opponent, but the risk of having someone knowing his secret identity is rather large. But Shinken is a hero, why would he betray his trust? Besides, Liam was a stranger in Freedom City after being away for so long. Friends are hard to come by. "Training is essential. That has always been my philosophy. You can count me in."

Shinken appears to freeze up and responds by poking his sword at Nightrival, who can't help but slightly cock his head at seeing his esteemed opponent suddenly revert to a meager defense. I'll take what I can get, he thinks. With his hand still firmly clenched around Shinken's wrist, Nightrival bends his knees and following the imaginary arc he smoothly tosses Shinken five feet away. His armoured opponent lands on his back with a resounding thud. Nightrival draws wide circles with his arms and then immediately tenses into a Shaolin stance, facing down his fallen opponent. He grins underneath his mask. "C'mon, Shinken. I know you can do better than that," he says playfully. -- A superhero? Calling me at work? Wow. No one except Master Lee knows about Nightrival. It's not like my training is public knowledge. I'll have to talk to Master Lee about this. But Shinken seems like a decent guy. I'll see what he has to say. "Shinken?" he replies coolly, "yeah, I've heard of you. You've done some good work. Good to know that some capes rely on skill rather than fancy powers." For a brief moment, Liam weighs his options. This could be an opportunity to test his prowess against a much tougher opponent, but the risk of having someone knowing his secret identity is rather large. But Shinken is a hero, why would he betray his trust? Besides, Liam was a stranger in Freedom City after being away for so long. Friends are hard to come by. "Training is essential. That has always been my philosophy. You can count me in."

Shinken appears to freeze up and responds by poking his sword at Nightrival, who can't help but slightly cock his head at seeing his esteemed opponent suddenly revert to a meager defense. I'll take what I can get, he thinks. With his hand still firmly clenched around Shinken's wrist, Nightrival bends his knees and following the imaginary arc he smoothly tosses Shinken five feet away. His armoured opponent lands on his back with a resounding thud. Nightrival draws wide circles with his arms and then immediately tenses into a Shaolin stance, facing down his fallen opponent. He grins underneath his mask. "C'mon, Shinken. I know you can do better than that," he says playfully. -- A superhero? Calling me at work? Wow. No one except Master Lee knows about Nightrival. It's not like my training is public knowledge. I'll have to talk to Master Lee about this. But Shinken seems like a decent guy. I'll see what he has to say. "Shinken?" he replies coolly, "yeah, I've heard of you. You've done some good work. Good to know that some capes rely on skill rather than fancy powers." For a brief moment, Liam weighs his options. This could be an opportunity to test his prowess against a much tougher opponent, but the risk of having someone knowing his secret identity is rather large. But Shinken is a hero, why would he betray his trust? Besides, Liam was a stranger in Freedom City after being away for so long. Friends are hard to come by. "Training is essential. That has always been my philosophy. You can count me in."

I'm completely fine with that. I already have an extra Hero Point from the Luck feat - they do come in handy! I'm assuming that we do start with one Hero Point at the beginning of this scenario?

I'm completely fine with that. I already have an extra Hero Point from the Luck feat - they do come in handy! I'm assuming that we do start with one Hero Point at the beginning of this scenario?

I'm completely fine with that. I already have an extra Hero Point from the Luck feat - they do come in handy! I'm assuming that we do start with one Hero Point at the beginning of this scenario?

Nightrival's using Total Defense, giving him DC 30. He can still make move actions.

Nightrival's using Total Defense, giving him DC 30. He can still make move actions.

Nightrival's using Total Defense, giving him DC 30. He can still make move actions.

Nightrival Nightrival quickly ducks, allowing the chair to pass over him. It lands on a table on the other side of the casino, crashing into a roulette wheel and breaking in half. "You should reconsider," he snaps back, "you're looking a little winded." He somersaults ten feet across the casino, landing on his hands near the two security guards, then launches himself another nine feet to the other side of the foyer. He expertly settles back onto his feet and faces Maelstrom in a drop stance. "You're not getting past me. I can so this all night, and I'm sure the cops on are their way."

Nightrival Nightrival quickly ducks, allowing the chair to pass over him. It lands on a table on the other side of the casino, crashing into a roulette wheel and breaking in half. "You should reconsider," he snaps back, "you're looking a little winded." He somersaults ten feet across the casino, landing on his hands near the two security guards, then launches himself another nine feet to the other side of the foyer. He expertly settles back onto his feet and faces Maelstrom in a drop stance. "You're not getting past me. I can so this all night, and I'm sure the cops on are their way."

Nightrival Nightrival quickly ducks, allowing the chair to pass over him. It lands on a table on the other side of the casino, crashing into a roulette wheel and breaking in half. "You should reconsider," he snaps back, "you're looking a little winded." He somersaults ten feet across the casino, landing on his hands near the two security guards, then launches himself another nine feet to the other side of the foyer. He expertly settles back onto his feet and faces Maelstrom in a drop stance. "You're not getting past me. I can so this all night, and I'm sure the cops on are their way."

Sure, this fight could go on for long time. :D

Sure, this fight could go on for long time. :D

Sure, this fight could go on for long time. :D

A blue and white city bus screeches to a halt at the intersection of Greeley and Eastwick, a busy corner that funnels traffic from Jameson Airport and the Hanover Bypass. The FCTA logo on the side of the bus is freshly painted, and the bright autumn sunlight glints off its well-scrubbed surface. All the maple and oak trees along Greeley have already began to shake off their vibrant red leaves, blanketing the sidewalk in a pleasant crimson hue. Liam steps off the bus and adjusts his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He digs into the backpocket of his jeans and unfolds a crumpled business card. He double checks the address: He slips the card back into his pocket, readjusts the duffel bag, and walks south on Greeley under the swaying trees. Liam suddenly stops after one block. The kwoon is just how he remembers it. A non-descript two-story building in grey concrete, with a modest sign hanging over the front door that reads Master Lee's School of Self Defense, written in fanciful red and gold script. A roaring dragon coils around the letters. The buildings next to the school are much more gergarious, built in the Colonial Georgian style in red brick and contoured frames. Liam smiles, thinking of the Old Man's humility and grace. He walks through the door. Inside, a da sihing leads a small group of sihing in a series of drills. Each punch and kick is accompanied by a piercing shout. Liam watches them and soaks in the kwoon's ambience: worn red mats cover the floor, wooden dummies and stands holding polearms and swords line the walls, and arches made in the traditional Chinese scrollwork extend from each corner of the room and meet in the center of the ceiling. Box windows at the front allow the rich light to illuminate the room. Despite it's plain exterior, the kwoon's interior has an elegant and simple design. A lone sihing sits on a bench, stretching his legs. Liam approaches him. Today, he's come to see Master Lee for a specific reason. However, the name "Master Lee" is just a marketing ploy. Although the Old Man never cared for honorifics, Liam knows to call him sifu. "Hey. Is the sifu here today?" he asks the sihing.

A blue and white city bus screeches to a halt at the intersection of Greeley and Eastwick, a busy corner that funnels traffic from Jameson Airport and the Hanover Bypass. The FCTA logo on the side of the bus is freshly painted, and the bright autumn sunlight glints off its well-scrubbed surface. All the maple and oak trees along Greeley have already began to shake off their vibrant red leaves, blanketing the sidewalk in a pleasant crimson hue. Liam steps off the bus and adjusts his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He digs into the backpocket of his jeans and unfolds a crumpled business card. He double checks the address: He slips the card back into his pocket, readjusts the duffel bag, and walks south on Greeley under the swaying trees. Liam suddenly stops after one block. The kwoon is just how he remembers it. A non-descript two-story building in grey concrete, with a modest sign hanging over the front door that reads Master Lee's School of Self Defense, written in fanciful red and gold script. A roaring dragon coils around the letters. The buildings next to the school are much more gergarious, built in the Colonial Georgian style in red brick and contoured frames. Liam smiles, thinking of the Old Man's humility and grace. He walks through the door. Inside, a da sihing leads a small group of sihing in a series of drills. Each punch and kick is accompanied by a piercing shout. Liam watches them and soaks in the kwoon's ambience: worn red mats cover the floor, wooden dummies and stands holding polearms and swords line the walls, and arches made in the traditional Chinese scrollwork extend from each corner of the room and meet in the center of the ceiling. Box windows at the front allow the rich light to illuminate the room. Despite it's plain exterior, the kwoon's interior has an elegant and simple design. A lone sihing sits on a bench, stretching his legs. Liam approaches him. Today, he's come to see Master Lee for a specific reason. However, the name "Master Lee" is just a marketing ploy. Although the Old Man never cared for honorifics, Liam knows to call him sifu. "Hey. Is the sifu here today?" he asks the sihing.

A blue and white city bus screeches to a halt at the intersection of Greeley and Eastwick, a busy corner that funnels traffic from Jameson Airport and the Hanover Bypass. The FCTA logo on the side of the bus is freshly painted, and the bright autumn sunlight glints off its well-scrubbed surface. All the maple and oak trees along Greeley have already began to shake off their vibrant red leaves, blanketing the sidewalk in a pleasant crimson hue. Liam steps off the bus and adjusts his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He digs into the backpocket of his jeans and unfolds a crumpled business card. He double checks the address: He slips the card back into his pocket, readjusts the duffel bag, and walks south on Greeley under the swaying trees. Liam suddenly stops after one block. The kwoon is just how he remembers it. A non-descript two-story building in grey concrete, with a modest sign hanging over the front door that reads Master Lee's School of Self Defense, written in fanciful red and gold script. A roaring dragon coils around the letters. The buildings next to the school are much more gergarious, built in the Colonial Georgian style in red brick and contoured frames. Liam smiles, thinking of the Old Man's humility and grace. He walks through the door. Inside, a da sihing leads a small group of sihing in a series of drills. Each punch and kick is accompanied by a piercing shout. Liam watches them and soaks in the kwoon's ambience: worn red mats cover the floor, wooden dummies and stands holding polearms and swords line the walls, and arches made in the traditional Chinese scrollwork extend from each corner of the room and meet in the center of the ceiling. Box windows at the front allow the rich light to illuminate the room. Despite it's plain exterior, the kwoon's interior has an elegant and simple design. A lone sihing sits on a bench, stretching his legs. Liam approaches him. Today, he's come to see Master Lee for a specific reason. However, the name "Master Lee" is just a marketing ploy. Although the Old Man never cared for honorifics, Liam knows to call him sifu. "Hey. Is the sifu here today?" he asks the sihing.

Nothing like a good spine-crushing to compel the odd by-stander. Thanks for answering!

Nothing like a good spine-crushing to compel the odd by-stander. Thanks for answering!

Nothing like a good spine-crushing to compel the odd by-stander. Thanks for answering!

That's true - they are quite a few circumstances to consider. What about telling an NPC to do something, but said NPC is not an ally or a minion, so you must use some sort of coercion like Intimidate?

That's true - they are quite a few circumstances to consider. What about telling an NPC to do something, but said NPC is not an ally or a minion, so you must use some sort of coercion like Intimidate?