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Ecalsneerg

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  1. Arrowhawk snatched up the photo of Bedlam's Ladies Academy, lightly tossing it up and down in her hand as she paced over to the kneeling woman. As usual, Lady Horus had just barged in and ignored the photograph with the exact name they were specifically here to look for. She held it up as she crouched down, most of her face shadowed by her cowl. "A woman was magically compelled not to say this name. Bedlam Ladies Academy." She leaned closer, smiling widely. It was like the grin of an alligator, utterly lacking in any form of humour whatsoever. "Who are they really?"
  2. Arrowhawk sighed and rolled her eyes. Lady Horus did not have any measure of patience or hesitance in simply storming buildings. She let out a deep sigh, shouldering her bow and she strode through the open door confidently, staring straight ahead, eyes taking in the rooms ahead of her without looking quite directly at anything or anyone. She kept her eyes and ears out, alert to anything Lady Horus may have missed in her great haste.
  3. Arrowhawk knelt down besides the fallen woman. "Tyr's fell hand, I should have known. Someone has laid a geas on her. I am unsure if it will be fatal, but well..." She shrugged, glancing over at Wadjet. "She is compelled to conceal the source from us, or else death will claim her. Or at least agony enough to make death preferable." She tilted her head to glare at the Sunhawk from beneath her cowl, one piercing blue eyes fixed on her. "I do not know what power you have, discount Álfröðull, but only magic or the gods can intervene here." She gestured with one metal-gauntleted hand. "Do you have the skill to?"
  4. Arcane lore: 1d20+5 20 Give me the skinny. Is she cursed; under a geas, under a goose... ?
  5. Arrowhawk broke off from her glaring to look at the woman in the bedraggled clothing. "Chick who wrestles?" she asked, a mix of disbelief and wry amusement in her voice. A smile briefly crossed her lips before turning back to the old woman, baring her teeth once more. In all this, she hadn't once let her grip on the woman waver, supernaturally strong grip clasped on her shoulder. "I was born to death," hissed Osla. "I grew up in a realm of death. And I walked straight out. I do not have the patience left for riddles and enigmas, for gods and for monsters." This was true, she did not have the patience to deal with the Sunhawk's mannerisms today. Her nerves were fried. "I want this done with. Now."
  6. Arrowhawk looked at the man compassionately. She knew he'd try to fight them. He'd maybe get a few. But he was one man with a gun. "Steve, I don't think this place is secure enough. There's too many of them. Too well armed." She glanced back at the detective and the homeless woman, before leaning in closer, speaking in a quiet voice. "You must have somewhere else you know, somewhere more secure."
  7. Intimidate!!!: 1d20+10 23 Scary Batman is scary
  8. Arrowhawk lunged for the fleeing Omegadrone, but only succeeded in staggering forward, missing it by inches as it flew away. A feral growl escaped her throat as she could only frustratedly watch it flying away. Perhaps her father could have shot it down, but she knew she wouldn't be able to. She turned, and saw the old woman with the dagger. She clearly knew what was going on. Arrowhawk whirled on her heel, striding over to her, and grabbed the old woman by the shoulder firmly, yanking her around to face her. "Tell me what is happening," snarled Arrowhawk, in a tone brooking no disobedience.
  9. Arrowhawk recoiled a little as the Sunhawk slammed the angel so hard the veil dropped from it and the cybernetic monstrosity beneath was visible to her. Osla's eyes widened as she realised what the creatures of nightmare her father had been so keen to keep away from her were. "Omegadrone," she breathed. Her hesitation was only brief. She came in hard to the left, Orheidr coming down with a whipcrack to rebound off some kind of energy field. No matter, she'd keep up the momentum, pivoting round to let her ax visibly and audible spark off the field. "Do not think you can escape further injury today," hissed Arrowhawk, bringing one boot up in a brutal kick to the thing's knee. In the split second of momentum, in the tiny gap where it was off balance, she slammed her bow into the Omegadrone's 'clavicle' and began pushing backwards. Her axe slammed into the thing's forehead, exerting as much effort as she could, struggling even with the supernatural might in her gauntlets. At some point she realised a scream of exertion was coming from her mouth, teeth bared, as she managed to bend the fiend from another dimension into a twisted parody of a limbo dance.
  10. Unless the Omegadrone busts out, Osla's going to try and keep the thing pinned. If it does bust out, she's going to switch to using her ice arrow (Snare 7) to try and freeze the damn thing where it stands/flies.
  11. Arrowhawk was baffled. This looked like no angel of death she had ever encountered and yet, here it was, assaulting people. Her hesitation was her undoing, it giving a crucial second for it to attack the woman. Surging forward, she saw a smear of acid dissipate harmlessly against the angel. Finding out where it had came from was down her list of priorities right now, as she pulled out her axe from beneath her cloak. In a quick, violent motion, she leapt up, kicking the angel hard in the face, just long enough for her to spin in the air, bringing the axe down in a vicious downward stroke. It didn't bring the angel down, but did clearly do something to it. "By Tyr's blood, you will not harm these people. Try it, and I will stand against you. Trust me. You do not want that."
  12. OK, let's kick some goddamn ass. Osla is going to prioritize taking the thing down over rescuing people, because she's got no ability to mass move people out of here. Roll will to disbelieve: 1d20+9 16 Arrowhawk doesn't actually know what an Omegadrone is. Arrownitiative: 1d20+8 10 Arrowhawk did not do well for initiative. Right, her primary move in this fight is to just beat the living hell out of the angel of death. If it keeps distant, she's going to shoot it in the face with incendiary arrows (+11 to hit, DC 22 Damage, with Secondary Effect). If it closes, she's going to Quick Draw her axe and start wailing on it with that (+10 to hit, DC23 Damage, no secondary effect, but it has Improved Critical). If it really comes down to protecting civilians, she'll try to grapple the Omegadrone to keep it from attacking people. I'll just throw you a load of dice: 10#1d20 15 15 2 7 4 19 17 3 15 7 Hit me up if it's going to KO her.
  13. Osla had been all in favour of rushing to the East Coast to help, but her father had told her not to. She wasn't a pawn of his, to move and not move at his say so, but... she had never seen him look scared. In the short time she'd known him, in all the stories she'd heard of him, he had never once been scared. Never. It had unsettled her enough that she'd felt compelled to stay put, dealing with the violence caused by the rising oppressive heat. Until, just as she was heading home to rest, the house in Stark Hill crumbled. She was approaching it just as she saw the foolish fake Sunhawk smash through the front door, regardless of how precarious the building was. Taking Orheidr in one hand, she openly strode towards the building, eyes narrowed, not taking in the other two women nearby as she rushed to make sure Horus hadn't walked into something blindly and gotten herself killed.
  14. Arrowhawk cautiously took a couple of steps towards the man. Clearly he wasn't all there, while the men had links to law enforcement, they were clearly not members of it themselves. "Yes, they have been out tonight," she said, nodding to indicate she agreed with Steve's assessment. She gestured back at the homeless woman sitting, clearly traumatised her. "They were trying to kill this woman. I am here because I don't wish for them to succeed in their twisted goal. I do not want them to get either of you."
  15. Diplomacy: 1d20+2 20
  16. Arrowhawk looked a little blank, unable to decipher much of this man's ramblings, and also not wanting to set him off so she, or worse, the poor homeless woman, would get shot. "Steve, right?" She decided to appeal to the man's nature. The detective had mentioned Steve was at least kind to his fellow homeless. "Have you heard of men hunting those who live on the streets? Chase them down for sport? Anything in that vein?" She spoke softly and slowly, not wanting to set him off.
  17. Arrowhawk moved slowly and cautiously, knowing her compromised armour probably wouldn't stand up to a shotgun blast. She pivoted to face Shotgun Steve, barely understanding a word he was saying. She glanced sidelong at the detective, part of her feeling vindicated that she was right, that this plan was foolish. Part of her was wary about the mess this detective had got them into. "This was your plan?" she muttered.
  18. DC15 Knowledge check: 1d20+1 12
  19. Notice roll: 1d20+10 24
  20. Arrowhawk tilted her head to one side, teeth bared. "We find a more secure safe house. Even another city. Remove her from the situation. Like you said. This 'Shotgun Steve' is not as dangerous as the man in the mask. He will go through him to get to her. He will go through me and you to get to her." She took a step closer, using her full height and musculature. "Like you said. One life at a time. Only I don't intend to stop halfway through saving each life."
  21. "For how long? This not a long-term solution, Detective," said Osla, a little angry at the notion she was in no state to fight. Was she not upright and walking? "It is barely a short term solution. She can not stay here." Arrowhawk cautiously glanced back over her shoulder, not wanting to get caught by surprise. Or worse, shot in the back. "What was your plan long term?" The implication he was able to see through the moonlight was going to have to wait until later, but she did not like having seiðmenn walking around the city without her knowledge.
  22. "I'm not," said Arrowhawk bluntly. "But..." She trailed off, looking thoughtful. She glanced over Moon's shoulder, seeing the woman there, looking vulnerable. "It does not help her if we're at each other's throats until I collapse of blood loss. What was your plan? Because if you do not get her somewhere safe, the man in the metal mask is still at large. He is more dangerous than the children of wealth he drags along with him. I would likely be able to defeat him if I were fresh, but I had been shot with a sniper rifle multiple times before I engaged him, and he has had time to seek medical attention too." Osla eyed the detective, skeptical he had a plan that could withstand the tenacity and level of influence this group of hunters had amassed.
  23. Arrowhawk kept a healthy distance, looking the man up and down. "In this city? The 'Detective' is hardly a reassurance of you being one of the 'good guys'. Particularly when a couple of the hunters oh so kindly reassured me their father, the judge, would ensure nothing untoward happened to their freedom and reputation." She cocked her head, a wry smirk on her face. She took a couple of steps forward, locking eyes with the detective, taking in the silver of them. She dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. "I've yet to see a Midgardian with silver eyes."
  24. Arrowhawk shrugged off her invisibility, revealing the battered and bloodied woman to the detective and the homeless woman. What was visible of her face was smeared in blood and dirt, her armour rent in several places, some pale skin visible, but also a lot of dried blood. She was favouring one leg much more than the other. "Most of the pursuers are gone, but not all. We need to get you somewhere safer," said Arrowhawk abruptly, knowing it seemed uncompassionate, but in too much pain and running too low on time to sacrifice brevity.
  25. As usual, I'm just offering to play I'll put Arrowhawk II forward, as TT has a sweet Bedlam idea and seriously dibs. Also Geckoman if there's room, but like super-low-priority.
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