Exaccus

Having lived somewhat in squalor since the passing of his parents, Hale had found himself caring more and more about his hygein and cleanliness the further and further he'd sunk into his despair, some sort of obsessive need to keep his appearance after the fading of his modest wealth and indeed contentment in life no doubt; to say this mess distressed him would be an understatement, to his credit he holds out for almost a whole second before he thinks he sees something moving amidst the filth, this coupled with his rapidly emerging mycophobia and stress at being shot at leads to his instincts out running his reason and his mind defends itself in the best way it can think of. <kill it with purple explosions.> breaking from his almost impercivable shuddering he bellows "Gross, Gross, GROSS." before drawing his sword and in one fluid motion wiping away the disgusting sty's clutter in a wall of purple magic that races out like a claustrophobic flow from the sword rending the clutter at the atomic level even as it passes harmlessly over the sherrif and omega drone.

Notice 1d20+6=20 Search 1d20=1

Giving the situation some serious thought, Ulysses decided he'd be better off with one of the smarter people present to help him best apply the sheer force he could bring to bare against their foes, seeing foreshadow pairing off with coiled lightning he decides now is as good as any a time to be building bridges. "I'd like to be working with you professor, if you'll have me, maybe we can discuss our namesakes." he jokes "I feel I would be best paired with someone who has the expertise to direct my blows as it were, most of my foes I've overcome through sheer strength and I fear that simply isn't an option this time."

slightly disappointed that his attempt at stratigification hadn't worked all that well ulysses decides that punching it will suffice and without much thought beyond that makes to close the distance, swinging with a fist at first as once more his body outruns his mind he manages to hold back the blow and swing out with the shovel instead, grazing at the putrid fungal mass with the edge of the shovel, the wooden haft bending and bulging under the force of his impact.

i think ill spend a HP to recover from the fatigue then and use my shovel on it! 1d20+8=11 hmm not doing well today at all.

Hale couldn't help but feel thankful that he was wearing his helmet, certain he would've been unable to hide his expression otherwise, not rightly knowing what it was himself he felt that pulling faces of uncertain origins would only cause matters to disintegrate again and more than likely get him shot at again. "After you madam, sir." he states a little flatly, haivng had sufficient time to cool off he was now only a little bit surly about the conditions of his current mission from the stones and willing to just solider on through it without any more bellyaching <I want a good view of this...> well...almost no bellyaching.

Memories of red skin and irritation as well as slight disgust flooding back to his mind ulysses feels a little sheepish for falling back onto old reliable when its proven detrimental already, a little unfamiliar with what powers his unique station grants him he decides now is as good a time as any to see what the spirit of industry was offering in exchange for his services, taking an immense breath in he is as surprised as anyone else is when he exhales not the steam or force he is expecting but waves of air warping heat that boil the water from the grass and the misshapen mass of fungi covering the area in a thin mist of red hot steam that doesn't seem to have had any effect on the strange mass, but then where direct exposure failed maybe saturation will succeed.

thinking Ill stunt up Boiler breath(Damage 10; Heat, Steam, Ideas; Extras: Area:cone (100ft), Secondary effect; Flaws: Action (full) Power feats: subtle, Precise) {22/26} idea being its a cone of raw heat that will force the moisture out of the fungus and leave it in a cloud of superheated steam. precise is there to hopefuly prevent it from transfering from the fungi to the potentialy living host as i imagine that would be a terrible thing to do to a living person.

Surging forth before he could even think much about it; Ulysses stumbles over headstones and roots in the dark of the hill, weaving clunkly under the tentacles as he goes swinging at a foe he can barely see and missing the misshapen bulk of its core by a shameful margin

I'll delay to act on jasons turn and potentially team attack with him via pnumatic pugilism ! Roll coming soon I hope pneumatic pugilist: 1d20 2 plus 8 is 10, ah well

1d20+6=17 Think im happy with that result. what he did wasn't all that heroic so it doesn't really fit to spend a HP.

Initiative 1d20=19 Looks like im on a roll, waiting for a fall.

i think i'd like arna/agna to be a positive influence to counteract the swords negative one, if you wanna have her fall or otherwise menanced id be fine with that, though at some point id like her to become a hero in her own right so she's not a damsel in reccuring distress, maybe comming to hale's rescue a few times herself.

Hale feels an immense pressure on his brow as he finds his face twisted into a scowl, mind flooded with white hot anger and his entire form shaking with palpable rage he hefts his sword over his head and without so much as a second thought calls upon its dreadpowers in their fullest capacity, the air growing noticiably colder for those who could feel it as the life stealing magic within robbed the very snow of whatever warmth it might hold. "You had your chance." He hisses through his visor "Now I condemn you to languish in your grave forever more, formless and powerless as a shadow in the deep ice." and not waiting or caring to listen to whatever feigr or the spirits currently infesting arna cared to say to him he brings his weapon down, the blackness from within exploding out wards like blackest bilefire,splitting the ice and indeed the solid stone beneath it rending the very mountain to its core, fragments of stone and dust errupting as the landscape fissures and fractures from the destructive forces loosed within it.

lets see what i can see! 1d20+6=18

haha, i don't have it trained, he's just a dude with a magic sword at the moment. 1d20+10=27 And Lo' the mountain cracked, split by the darkness of the utterblack.

id like to corrode the mountain side in hopes that the blackmagic in the sword will desecrate whatever power its granting felgr and release arna from his grasp.

cursing the darkness and the rather pathetic torch he found himself unaided by ulysses tromped about the graveyard, trying to scan the weather worn words on the tombstones for this squire of theirs, having a few near misses putting his foot through the more modern and pitch black gravestones with such regularity it had made him break out in a nervous sweat, messing with tombstones was bad luck after all. "any luck over your way chaps?"

Searching! 1d20-4=9

Ulysses emerges from the washroom, having given his hands a bit of a thorough wash, resorting even to using some of the steel wool he'd found left out, not all that sure it'd helped but it made him feel better to have scraped his palms with it, emerging in time to hear the officer's offer of shovels and torches. <Talking seems to go so much better when I'm not around...> he laments to himself. "I think i might take you up on that offer, Officer." he pipes up as he gets within indoor voice distance,"handy thing a shovel is, saved me from leaving coal dust everywhere when i was in the engine cab."

1d20+5=25 BK is now angry.

Slightly short on temper with feigr and if he's honest with himself a little bit disorientated from all the teleporting around, black knight opts to take a more direct and euclidean route to feigr, hoisting his sword and calling on the utterdark within it to edge it with entropy and with a swing shatters the wall before him into brittle fragments that crash down around him. "harken unto me feigr, you cannot hope to win. return to your grave and pass on, there is nothing in this world for you." he says rather confidently as he strikes up to the damaged undead.

yup!

because im a little bit tired of teleporting id like to smash a hole in the wall with my sword, potentialy causing it to collapse onto feigr if he's close enough and step through the breach.

Ulysses had found he wasn't the most charismatic of talkers so he was rather thankful that the more suave gentleman in blue stepped forward to handle the issue, having been a little spooked by the idea of becoming a mushroom himself he could empathize with the cowering policeman to a degree, though he hoped he'd have a touch more control over himself it was always hard to tell outside of the moment, doubly so with a powerful spirit rumbling around in his skull. "Iff'n you'll be excusing me, gentlemen im going to go wash up...maybe stick my hand in a fire for a bit." he muses as he turns to leave, regarding the young lady with a raised eyebrow on his way out "Huh, i thought you youngin's like the mushrooms, what with your Marios and your Super Nintendos." he states out loud before continuing on his way "Guess I'm out of touch....though i applaud you, winners don't use drugs." he states matter of factly as he heads towards the mens room.