Elegy

GM

"Receiving you, Ironclad," Commander Volkland replied, raising a hand to her ear. "We've taken a few hits, but we're out of range now, so you should be clear to take on the spill. Keep us updated; we'll help any way we can. Volkland out." Turning to the heroes assembled on the deck of the Perseverance, she gave a businesslike nod as further suggestions rolled in. "Very good. Tsunami and Ironclad can work on keeping this mess from spreading while you two teleporters find out what's going on with the ship's crew."

Taking up a pair of binoculars, she stared at the cargo ship's shadowy outline. "I'll get a boarding party ready; it'll help to be able to get them aboard without having to move our vessel into their kill zone again." She offered the three heroes a crisp salute. "Good luck. And thank you."

Figuratively rolling up his sleeves to deal with this bizarre misuse of the arcane, Seth was surprised to find himself suddenly surrounded by a colorful group of men and women. The Twilight Angel had filled him with knowledge of these "superheroes," but it was still strange to see them in action! As he understood it, they were like an auxiliary town watch (or police department, in modern terminology), but with incredible powers of diverse origin and effect. It was good to see them respond so swiftly to this sudden crisis!

The Russian in the thick blue coat, first on the scene, put the young mage ill at ease. He did not merely feel the cold on him, he saw it in him, a dead, roiling winter that clashed with the autumn of his own power. Could this man really be a hero with power such as this? "Thank you," he cautiously replied to the man's words of welcome. The winter mage was polite, and seemed to be on the side of right, but the opposed natures of their energies made him feel queasy if he looked too long. Fortunately, the arrival of two more heroes tore his mind from the matter.

The rather young woman in purple and white seemed earnest enough, though she was younger even than he, and he could not help but notice that she was rather pretty. The other youth, of his own age if he did not miss his guess, wore the flowing cloak and dark, mysterious clothes of a mage, but Seth could see no magic on him. He made some confusing comment about a dance that the dusk mage pretended to understand, nodding his head. "I am called Gloaming," he said with a formal half-bow, "and I would welcome your aid."

He wondered what on Earth these modern people must think of the youth with seventeenth century clothes, an eyepatch, and a glowing gaze, but concluded that their own costumes were bizarre enough that they had little room to judge.

Their entrance into the mad scene within the bank momentarily forestalled conversation. Devices whose names Seth only vaguely knew, and which he had never seen before, ripped themselves from walls and ceilings to lurch at them, a deadly tide of metal and plastic! As Amelyth and the cloaked youth laid into the twining carpets, Seth cast around for the most immediate threat. His eyes settled on the heavy filing cabinet bearing down on Comrade Frost. Reaching out, he twisted his hands through an arcane pattern, brow furrowed in concentration.

The cabinet, scooting and rolling across the floor with bone-crushing momentum, was borne into the air mid-spin, seized by invisible hands. Seth, struggling to hold the object as it rippled and writhed in his ethereal grip, cast his gaze over to the bags and ATMs. In his day paper money was a newfangled thing used only in the Massachusetts Bay colony and a few places on the Continent, but he knew that it was now both widespread and valuable. Whoever the perpetrator of this mystic affront was, it was clear what they were after.

"I was under the impression that guilds ceased to exist quite some time ago," the confused mage replied, entirely missing the point of Foreshadow's banter. Worried that he was already showing himself to be hopelessly ignorant, he did not ask what "speed dial" was.

With a flick of his wrist, Seth sent the filing cabinet flying at the bag closest to the entrance of the bank, tipping it and spilling the notes inside. More cash cascaded from the ATM, striking the side of the cabinet and scattering over the floor as the animated metal struggled to right itself. But the dent he'd put in the object, and the scattering of the paper files within, made him rethink his triumphant smile. "If at all possible," he said with a guilty grimace, "we should try to avoid undue damage to these objects. They are someone's livelihood."

He caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye: another superhero had arrived outside, but was being menace by yet more animated objects, one of them large enough to squash her flat! Thinking quickly, Seth opened one of his deep orange portals, bending space and time between where the young woman in the web-like costume stood and the spot where Amelyth had just shredded one of the rugs so thoroughly it could not rise again. "Milady, beware!" He couldn't be sure his shout would reach her through the thick glass doors.

Then again, she'd probably been doing this a lot longer than he had. Whether or not she trusted the offer of his portal, he was certain she was competent enough to survive this. Whether or not he would prove to be was another matter entirely, he reflected, as the standing lamp bore down on him with a vicious swing of its lightbulb...

An animated car, being a bulky hulk of metal, is not particularly agile, and Silver manages to gum up its workings before the flailing metal can mangle her. It seems to possess fairly serious strength just by merit of its bulk, though, and will probably break free next round to menace the heroine once more!

Gloaming reaches out with his telekinesis to grapple the filing cabinet bearing down on Comrade Frost (the cabinet fails the opposed check), then tosses it at one of the bags the ATMs are filling. He then turns and, as a free action, opens a portal next to Silver Spider and on top of the rug that Amelyth just shredded, offering Silver a way out of the line of fire of the attacking parking meters.

That leaves just Comrade Frost and our animated foes this round!

Gloaming

?do=embed' frameborder='0' data-embedContent>>Automated Withdrawal (1)

?do=embed' frameborder='0' data-embedContent>>The Void Mansion (9)

?do=embed' frameborder='0' data-embedContent>>No Tern Unstoned (2)

>Patriotism Vignette (+1PP)

>Origin Story (+1PP>??)

>Interview (+1PP)

>Hell Q (+1PP)

>Reputation (+1PP)

GM

?do=embed' frameborder='0' data-embedContent>>Automated Withdrawal (2)

?do=embed' frameborder='0' data-embedContent>>The Void Mansion (8)

?do=embed' frameborder='0' data-embedContent>>No Tern Unstoned (2)

Gloaming/Seth Syme

 

Gather Information

DC10: A mystic hero called Gloaming lives in a big mansion up on Lantern Hill. He's called that because he wields "Dusk Magic".

DC15: Gloaming's real name is Seth Syme, and he was born three hundred years ago. He especially targets magical crime and threats.

DC20: Seth Syme was one of the twelve people in the Freedom City area executed by Reverend Elijah Prophet for witchcraft in 1694.

DC25: Seth died that day, and spent the intervening centuries in the void. He was brought back by a creature called the Twilight Angel. He's hunting down the person who betrayed him, a woman he loved, whose spirit is bound to a porcelain mask somewhere in Freedom City.

 

Knowledge: Arcane Lore

DC10:  A mystic hero called Gloaming lives in a big mansion up on Lantern Hill. He's called that because he wields "Dusk Magic".

DC15: Dusk Magic is called that because it's a mingling of light and dark energies, neither inherently good nor inherently evil.

DC20: A powerful being called the Twilight Angel, composed entirely of Dusk Magic, is its most powerful practitioner.

DC25: The Twilight Angel's mark appears on Gloaming; it has boosted his power to new heights.

DC30: The Twilight Angel was accidentally created by a battle between Abbridon and Kar'Kradas. It holds power over life and death.

 

Knowledge: History

DC15: Seth Syme was one of the twelve people in the Freedom City area executed by Reverend Elijah Prophet for witchcraft in 1694.

DC20: The Syme family was one of the First Families of Virginia. A branch of the family came to the Freedom area in the late 17th century.

 

Knowledge: Streetwise

DC5: There's a cursed lot in Lantern Hill where nothing can be built. Tons of different construction companies have tried.

DC10: The cursed lot is where the Syme Family mansion, Havenglen House, used to stand. It vanished when Seth Syme was hanged for witchcraft.

DC15: Havenglen House and Seth Syme, now known as the hero Gloaming, reappeared on the same day: July 18th, 2013, at midnight.

Reputation

Gloaming/Seth Syme

 

 

Gather Information

DC10: A mystic hero called Gloaming lives in a big mansion up on Lantern Hill. He's called that because he wields "Dusk Magic".

DC15: Gloaming's real name is Seth Syme, and he was born three hundred years ago. He especially targets magical crime and threats.

DC20: Seth Syme was one of the twelve people in the Freedom City area executed by Reverend Elijah Prophet for witchcraft in 1694.

DC25: Seth died that day, and spent the intervening centuries in the void. He was brought back by a creature called the Twilight Angel. He's hunting down the person who betrayed him, a woman he loved, whose spirit is bound to a porcelain mask somewhere in Freedom City.

 

Knowledge: Arcane Lore

DC10:  A mystic hero called Gloaming lives in a big mansion up on Lantern Hill. He's called that because he wields "Dusk Magic".

DC15: Dusk Magic is called that because it's a mingling of light and dark energies, neither inherently good nor inherently evil.

DC20: A powerful being called the Twilight Angel, composed entirely of Dusk Magic, is its most powerful practitioner.

DC25: The Twilight Angel's mark appears on Gloaming; it has boosted his power to new heights.

DC30: The Twilight Angel was accidentally created by a battle between Abbridon and Kar'Kradas. It holds power over life and death.

 

Knowledge: History

DC15: Seth Syme was one of the twelve people in the Freedom City area executed by Reverend Elijah Prophet for witchcraft in 1694.

DC20: The Syme family was one of the First Families of Virginia. A branch of the family came to the Freedom area in the late 17th century.

 

Knowledge: Streetwise

DC5: There's a cursed lot in Lantern Hill where nothing can be built. Tons of different construction companies have tried.

DC10: The cursed lot is where the Syme Family mansion, Havenglen House, used to stand. It vanished when Seth Syme was hanged for witchcraft.

DC15: Havenglen House and Seth Syme, now known as the hero Gloaming, reappeared on the same day: July 18th, 2013, at midnight.

Hell Q

Introduction

Who are you? Sum yourself up in one sentence.
I am Seth Syme, a wielder of dusk magic from the seventeenth century brought forward in time by sorcery and betrayal.

Do you have any nicknames, street names, titles, or nom de plume?
I go by the name of Gloaming, to reflect my use of dusk magic.

What is your full birth name?
Seth Samuel Syme. Samuel is for my father.

Where do you live?
Havenglen house, my family's mansion in Lantern Hill, now twisted by magic.

How old are you? What year were you born (if applicable)?
Physically I am twenty years old, but I was born in 1674, so I am technically 339 years old.

Physical Traits


What is your gender? If not applicable, please explain.
I am male.

How would you describe your heritage?
I am English on my father's side and German on my mother's.

How tall are you?
Five feet eleven inches.

What is your body type?
I am not particularly physically imposing, neither toned nor fat but of healthy weight.

Do you have any particular weaknesses, such as allergies or physical disabilities?
I have only one eye, which plays havoc with my depth perception.

How do you carry yourself? Are you graceful, or heavy on your feet? Can you be stealthy, do you walk with confidence?
I would say that I walk with the heaviness of one who has seen eternity. I do not sneak, but neither do I boast.

Describe your skin, eye, and hair color.
I am pale skinned enough to burn easily, with chestnut hair and eyes that are blue beneath the orange glow of my Second Sight.

How do you wear your hair, if applicable? Do you have facial hair?
I keep my hair relatively short, though it tends to be unruly (especially around the bangs), and my face clean-shaven.

Do you consider yourself attractive? Do others?
I consider myself above average, but not by much. For others, I can't say I've noticed.

Do you have any scars, tattoos, piercings, or birthmarks?
I wear an eyepatch over the empty socket of my right eye.

Do you resemble anyone famous?
Not that I've been told; I know very little about modern celebrities.

Do you have a dominant hand?
Yes. I am right-handed.

What kind of clothing do you wear?
I wear the practical clothing of my birth era, a doublet and overcoat of canvas, linen, and leather.

Do you wear makeup?
No, I do not, nor could you pay me enough to do so.

What is your vocal range? Is your voice distinctive in some way?

I am a baritone. I would not say my voice is particularly distinctive.

Do you have any distinctive habits, nervous tics, or mannerisms? Where did they come from, and what causes them? Do other people notice and remark on these habits? Do they annoy you or other people?
I am told that I often mutter and move my fingers; it is something I do as I react to latent arcane energies. I am told that it lends me an air of either mystery or insanity. I myself do not notice.


History

Where do you come from?
A small town that would become Lantern Hill, back in the late seventeenth century.

Have you made any major moves, or do you live in your hometown?
I live in my hometown, but have moved so far forward in time so that it is hardly recognizable.

Do you feel loyal to your country of citizenship? Do you consider yourself patriotic? How do you feel about the government of your country?
I lived before there was a United States, so I do not have any citizenship and feel no sense of patriotism.

How do you feel about the place you come from?
I miss it, and the people there (or should I say then?), with all my heart.

Where is your home town? What was/is it like?
The town that would become the Lantern Hill district was small and quiet, full of tradesmen hawking their wares and scholars going on about their latest theories. It was a simpler time.

Growing up, were most of the people you knew similar to you, or were you somehow a minority? How did that affect you?
My family was quite wealthy, and I unfortunately gained a sense of entitlement and, later, ennui.

Is there something you've always been really good at or really bad at? How has that affected your life?
I've always been bad at being content with what I have, which led me to attempt sorcery.

Were there any traumatic experiences in your early years (death of a family member, abandonment, orphaned at an early age)?
No. I had a wonderful life until I went and ruined it.

Briefly describe a defining moment in your childhood and how it influenced your life.
I remember the first time my father brought me a book I wasn't interested in. He had spent no small amount on it, and was doing his best to make his layabout son happy. At the time, that look of disappointment just irritated me; I hungered for something more. Looking back on it, it breaks my heart.

What stupid things did you do when you were younger?
I cut out my own eye to gain sorcerous power. Top that.

Where did you go to school? How much school did you have, and did you enjoy it?
My father hired a tutor for the family. I enjoyed lessons for a while, but was never willing to work very hard.

Do you have any mementos of your childhood? What are they, and why did you keep them? If you have none, why not?
Only my house. Twisted thought it may be, it reminds me of days I should have prized instead of idling away.

When did you decide to become a hero? Why? Did anyone influence you one way or another in the decision?
My decision to become a hero came after three hundred years of reflection and the revelation that I had been betrayed. I saw that magic could be sorely misused, and I was able to work to prevent this from happening. It was this responsibility, coupled with my need to atone for my mistakes, that prompted me to attempt to become a hero.

Is the reason you give people for becoming a hero different than your real reason? If so, why?
No. I cannot abide lies.

Do you have any deep, dark secrets in the past that may come back to haunt you?
I keep nothing secret, but my promise to the Twilight Angel to deliver Emmaline's soul weighs heavily on me.

Do you represent yourself as being different from who you really are? Why?
No. I cannot abide lies.

If you do have these secrets, what do you fear would happen if the truth became known? How far would you go to protect those secrets?
I do not deserve the ability to hide my shame. Let others avoid repeating my mistakes.

Do you have any sort of criminal record? If so, is it public knowledge?
It is common knowledge that I was hanged for witchcraft three centuries ago.

 

Family

 

What are your biological parents' names?

Samuel Syme and Klara Hirtzel Syme.

 

Were you raised by them? If not, please explain and describe who raised you.

My parents raised me.

 

What was their standing in the community? What did/do they do for a living?

We were a wealthy, high-class family. My father made his fortune as a tobacco merchant.

 

Where are your parents now?

Long dead of old age.

 

Did your family stay in one area or move around a lot?

My family moved to the Freedom area from Jamestown when my mother was pregnant with me, but never moved since.

 

How did you get along with your parents? How do you get along with them now (if applicable)?

I was not a good son; I took things for granted far too often. But we loved each other dearly in spite of it all.

 

How do your parents view you now, or how would they?

They would respect the fact that I am trying to make up for my mistakes, I hope.

 

Do you have any siblings? If so, how many, and what are their names? Describe your relationship with them.

I am the oldest of seven children, all of whom got along fairly well. My brothers were Michael, Andrew, and Thomas. My sisters were Bethany, Hannah, and Eleanor.

 

What was your birth order in the family?

I was the firstborn.

 

Where are your siblings now (if applicable)? Do they have families of their own? What do they do?

They, like my parents, are long dead of old age.

 

Do you stay in touch with them or have you become estranged?

I am not a necromancer, so we are out of touch.

 

Do you love or hate one member of the family in particular?

No. I loved everyone equally.

 

Is any member of the family special to you in any way (perhaps as a confidant, mentor, or arch-rival)?

They are all special to me as family. Beyond that, no.

 

Are there any black (or white) sheep in the family (including you)? If so, please explain.

I was a black sheep, ungrateful and unwilling to put in the work to amount to anything, then executed for witchcraft.

 

Do you have a notorious or celebrated ancestor? If so, please explain, including how it has affected your life.

The Syme family is one of the First Families of Virginia, but that never mattered much, My father was a self-made man.

 

Do you have a partner and children currently? If so, please describe them.

I do not.

 

If you do not have a partner or children, do you want them someday? How firm are you in your opinion on this, and what might change your mind?

After the last time I loved someone blew up in my face, I am reluctant to make myself vulnerable again. Time may change that. We'll see.

 

What type of person would be your ideal mate?

Someone I can trust and rely on. Someone with whom I have much, though not everything, in common. Someone who makes me smile.

 

 

Relationships

 

Do you have any close friends? If so, please describe them, and how you came to be close to them.

In this day and age, not yet, though I hope to.

 

Do you have a best friend? If so, how did they become your best friend? How close are you to your best friend?

As yet, I would not say I have any friends at all.

 

If you were to go missing, who would worry about you?

No one, I suspect. I am not yet well known here.

 

Have you lost any loves? If so, how did it happen, and what did you do?

I was betrayed by my love and teacher in magic, Emmaline, losing my soul to the void for three centuries. I'm searching for her now.

 

Do you have any bitter enemies? If so, please describe them and their history with you.

Emmaline, I suppose, though it still seems strange to call her an enemy. And the Twilight Angel's vengeance will be terrible if I don't find her, so it might qualify, heaven forbid.

 

If you have enemies, how do you think they might attempt to work against you in the future?

Emmaline will probably try to avoid me... or kill me outright. In truth, I hardly know her. The Twilight Angel will hunt me to the ends of the Earth if I fail it.

 

What is the worst thing that someone has done to you?

Played at loving me for years, manipulating me all the while, only to cast me aside and consign me to eternal punishment when I'm no longer needed.

 

Where do your loyalties lie? In what order?

I am loyal to innocent people; protecting them from magic and other threats alike is my solemn duty. I am bound to the Twilight Angel, but would break that bond if I could.

 

Who or what do you trust the most? Why?

I have found no one to trust yet. Trust is difficult after Emmaline's betrayal.

 

Who or what do you despise? Why?

I despise liars, manipulators, and irresponsible users of power. I have been the victim of the first two. I have been the last.

 

What qualities do you admire most in other people? Are these qualities you possess?

I admire selflessness, duty, and compassion. It's not for me to say if I have them, but I hope so.

 

What qualities do you hate most in other people? Do you have any of those qualities?

I hate irresponsibility, laziness, and needless discontent because I have experienced them firsthand.

 

Do you have a secret identity? If so, who knows it? Do you hide it from people who are close to you? Why?

I have no need to hide. No one close to me is left to hurt.

 

Do you work well on teams and in groups? Are you a leader or a follower?

I would like to think I can adapt to any such situation and fill any role. I have no personal preference.

 

Are you on a super team? If so, how do you get along with your comrades? Do you trust them, or do you have secrets from them?

I am not on a team.

 

Are you a member of any church, fraternal organization, club, committee, political party, or other group? How much time do you spend on that?

I seek only to find Emmaline's mask and protect innocent people. There is little time for aught else.

 

 

Personality & Beliefs

 

Who are your heroes?

Martin Luther, who gave people the Bible in a language they could read and said "draw your own conclusions."

 

Did you ever become disillusioned with former heroes or idols? If so, why and what were the circumstances?

Not that I can think of.

 

Do you like being a hero? If so, what is the most rewarding part? If not, what makes you keep doing it?

I'm would not call myself a hero. I do what I do because I have a responsibility to do so, and a need to atone for past mistakes.

 

Is there anything that would make you give up hero work, or even switch sides?

If there comes a day when I am no longer needed, I will gladly retire. Switch sides? Never.

 

What are your short term goals (what would you like to be doing within a year?

I hope to have found the mask by then, freeing my soul at last and ending Emmaline's manipulations.

 

What are your long term goals (what would you like to be doing twenty years from now?

I would like to be living my new life as I see fit, free from debts but remembering my responsibilities.

 

What is your greatest fear? Why? What do you do when something triggers this fear?

Eternity. My time in the void showed me what a horror eternity could be. It's unimaginable; the nightmares plague me still.

 

Is there anything you would give your life for?

I dare not give my life yet; it would send me back to the void. When my soul is my own again, I would lay down my life for anyone else's. Call it cowardice, but you can't imagine what it was like.

 

How do you feel about money and material wealth? Do you desire it or disdain it? Are you miserly with what you have or do you like to share? Is it a mark of success or a means to an end?

It would be useful to have some money, but you can't buy happiness. I will find a way to get by without it.

 

How do you generally treat others?

I try to judge people based solely on their actions, granting each new person I meet a clean slate.

 

Are you a trusting person? Has your trust ever been abused?

Emmaline's betrayal has made it difficult for me to trust anyone. Perhaps, in time, that will change.

 

Are you introverted (shy and withdrawn) or extroverted (outgoing)? Do you have a lot of self-confidence?

I usually enjoy the company of others, but less so since I was betrayed. My confidence is reasonable, I think.

 

How do you act around attractive, available members of your preferred sex?

I cannot help but take notice of lovely young ladies, but I always make certain to treat them as capable people and act respectfully.

 

What are your most annoying habits?

Likely my muttering of arcane syllables. I'm trying to stop, but I never notice when it's happening.

 

Do you feel contempt for any general category of people? Who are they, and why?

Absolutely not. Everyone has a story; I judge individuals based on their actions, and that is the only judging I do.

 

What is your favorite food? Do you prefer any particular type of food? Do you take the time to enjoy your food, or do you eat as fast as you can?

I am a great lover of food, and take the time to savor every mouthful. I prefer savory foods, perhaps figs and cheese for a favorite.

 

What is your favorite drink (alcoholic or otherwise)?

I dislike the taste of alcohol; a good, clean glass of milk is much preferable in my eyes.

 

What is your favorite treat (dessert)?

Pecan pie, I think. Delicious.

 

Are there any specific foodstuffs that you find disgusting or refuse to eat?

I am open to trying most anything.

 

What is your favorite color? Are there any colors you dislike?

Green is my favorite, though my abilities seem to be stuck on orange.

 

What sort of music do you like? Are there any that you hate?

I love celtic and chamber music. Most modern music seems loud and toneless to me.

 

If you have a favorite scent, what is it?

The forest after a hard rain.

 

Do you have a favorite animal?

A good, loyal dog, like my old bloodhound Fergus.

 

What is your most treasured possession? Why?

Once I would have said my shield bracelet, but the fact that Emmaline gave it to me diminished that. Now I'm not sure.

 

Do you enjoy "roughing it", or do you prefer your creature comforts?

I must confess to preferring my creature comforts.

 

Is there a job or a task you would absolutely refuse to do?

I would never take a life, no matter what was offered for it.

 

Do you consider yourself a spiritual person? If so, how do your beliefs affect your life? How important is it to you?

I am a Christian, and I try to live according to Christ's example each day. I always fail, but I keep trying.

 

Was your faith influenced or molded by anyone special?

My parents impressed the importance of being a good Christian on me.

 

If you belong to a religious organization, how often do you attend? Do you have a specific place of worship, or fiends within the organization? How much do you agree with the beliefs of your organization?

My faith is between me and God, and I expect it to stay that way.

 

Could you kill? Have you killed?

No and no. Never.

 

What circumstances led to you forming that conviction, or taking that action?

I have never believed in killing, not even to save myself or my loved ones. A look at eternity reinforced that.

 

Are there circumstances under which you believe it is permissible to kill? What are they?

If there were no other way to save lives, I suppose it could be justified, but I'm still not sure I personally could do it.

 

How would you react to watching someone kill another person? Would your reaction be different if the killer was a friend or an enemy of yours?

I would be horrified in any circumstance, and try to prevent any further violence.

 

How would you react if something important was stolen from you?

I would be upset, and do my utmost to track down the stolen object.

 

How would you react to public humiliation?

I would like to think that I have no pride left to wound, but I'm not sure that's true. I would try to react with dignity.

 

How would you react if a good friend or relative were purposefully or accidentally killed? Has it happened to you?

I would be deeply distraught; fortunately, it has never happened to me.

 

What do you consider to be the worst crime someone could commit and why?

A crime that, rather than taking life, makes someone lose the desire to keep living. Life is a precious gift; I know that all too well.

 

If your life were to end in 24 hours, what five things would you do in those remaining hours?

I would spend as much time as I could hunting for the mask, to save my soul from the Void. I would read a book, take a walk through the forest, watch the sunset, and die in my own bed in my sleep.

 

 

Career & Training

 

Do you have any special training in your hero skills? If so, where and how did you get it?

I learned much of what I know about magic from Emmaline, and the Twilight Angel boosted my power.

 

Who taught you the most about your heroing abilities? What was your relationship with that person?

At the time, Emmaline was my beloved and my guide.

 

Do you have any particularly unusual skills? How did you acquire them?

I gave an eye to gain swift control over dusk magic.

 

Do you do something besides hero work for a living? Have you ever done anything else, or do you plan to?

The only other thing I've ever done is to be a layabout. This is my calling.

 

What is your preferred combat style?

I blast away at my foes at range, teleporting to gain greater range on them as needed.

 

Have you ever received any awards or honors?

No. I've never deserved any.

 

What skill areas would you like most to improve in? Is there anything you can't do that you wish desperately you could?

I always hope to learn more, and to discover new uses of my magic.

 

How do you act around people who are more skilled than you in areas you'd like to improve? Are you jealous, or do you try and learn?

I try to study people who are more skilled than I, though that sometimes becomes frustrating.

 

 

Lifestyle & Hobbies

 

What is a normal day for you? How do you feel when something interrupts this routine?

At the moment, a normal day includes long hours of searching for the mask. I'm glad for any interruption.

 

Do you have any hobbies or interests outside hero work? What are they, and where did you pick them up?

I've always loved to read, and try to do so for and hour a two at least every day.

 

What do you do for fun?

I read, usually, though I also enjoy hiking.

 

Do you have a costume? What does it look like?

I wear my most practical, if outdated, garments: a sturdy doublet and overcoat of canvas, leather, and linen.

 

How do you normally dress when not in costume?

The same. My clothing options are rather limited, given that I am penniless.

 

What do you wear to bed most nights?

My undergarments, if you must know.

 

Do you wear any special jewelry? What is it, and what does it look like?

I wear my dwarfcraft shield bracelet, a brass bracer, on my left arm. It helps protect me from harm.

 

Do you have a special place where you keep your valuables?

I don't have much that is valuable, but if it's not on my person it is kept in my well-warded house.

 

What's your preferred means of local travel? How about long distance?

I use conjured portals to get around.

 

 

Miscellaneous

 

Have you ever made a will, or tried to make arrangements for your death? What provisions did you make?

I have never done so, and am unsure to whom I would leave anything if I did.

 

If your features were to be destroyed beyond recognition, is there any other way of identifying your body?

What a ghastly thought. No, not that I can think of.

 

What would you like to be remembered for after your death?

I would like it to be remembered that I did my utmost to protect the innocent.

 

Do you believe you pose a threat to the public? Why or why not?

I do not believe so. I am strong-willed, and would never harm the innocent willingly.

 

What do you perceive as your greatest strength?

I have unusual perspective for someone of my age. My experience with magic, and with life, is unusually great.

 

What do you perceive as your greatest weakness?

I do not know my place in the modern world. Everything has changed, and I am ever lagging behind.

 

As a player, if you could, what advice would you give your character? Speak as if he/she were sitting right here in front of you. Use the proper tone so that they might heed your advice...

Seth, you've been given a second chance. Don't waste it moping or burn yourself out. Cherish it, and embrace it fully. Remember that you need other people, and learn to trust again. One betrayal should not color your perception of people as a whole.

No worries! Hope everything is working out well at your new house!

Amelyth utterly shreds one of the rugs, leaving it in inanimate tatters.

Interview

July 21st, 2013

7:00 PM

 

Gerard Scott could hardly contain his excitement. A new super in the city, and he was the first to track him down! This exclusive was going to get him into the big leagues of reporting, he just knew it. No more covering the car accidents and sewage backups; when the station saw this, he'd be covering the super-scene full time! It didn't hurt that this hero was rather stand-out. Not so much in deeds - his only known intervention in Freedom so far was stopping a bank robbery, and he'd had serious help - but in background.

 

The man sitting across the table from him was no homegrown hero, no Claremont student or 1% techno-vigilante. No, the man called Gloaming came from more than three hundred years in the past, living in the area that would become Lantern Hill! (1) The story of his house's sudden reappearance on the so-called "cursed lot" in that area wasn't exactly big news in a city full of weird happenings, but it tied well into the new hero's air of mystery. Gerard would leave out the legal battle; no one wanted to hear about a mystical property rights lawsuit.

 

Seth Syme, or Gloaming, didn't seem to find anything about himself particularly odd, though he was rather self-conscious about the patch over his right eye, which Gerard thought was hilarious. The eyepatch was nothing compared to the seventeenth-century clothes, which the reporter was sure would set Freedom City's hipsters off in a new direction, and the eerie orange glow of his gaze, which was visible not only over his good eye but through the canvas eyepatch. "It's my Second Sight," he'd explained, as if that clarified anything. (2)

 

Between questions, Gloaming just sat there, twitching his fingers and murmuring bizarre words to himself. He managed to make it look mysterious and imposing rather than schizophrenic. (3) "Now Gloaming," Gerard continued, "why do you do what you do?" The wizard considered that for a moment before speaking. "Partly," he began, "to save my immortal soul from eternity in the Void. But mostly out of a sense of responsibility. Magic warps reality itself. As someone with the capacity to act against it if needed, I cannot stand idly by while it is misused." (4)

 

"Very noble of you. What are your greatest strengths and weaknesses in pursuing that mission?" "My greatest strength is perspective. I have made all the mystical mistakes one can make, seen the face of eternity, and wielded a diverse array of powers; I understand magic quite well for someone of my age. My greatest weakness... this day and age. I am still unsure of how to act, how to live, where I fit. If I do regain my soul and live my life anew, I wonder, will I ever be able to approach normal? Will I want to?" (5)

 

Gerard wasn't sure that was a weakness, but Gloaming seemed to take it seriously, so he moved on. "Adjusting to the modern day has been difficult for you, then." The hero nodded. "I am a lover of books, of slow days and simple pleasures. Today the world is about speed, everything fast and massive in scale, and I'm not sure I can keep up, or even if I want to. And it's about misrepresenting oneself, as it always has been. I cannot abide lies." (6, 10) Gerard considered his Facebook page and gulped. "Don't go to Hollywood, then."

 

"So, more than three centuries in the Void. After all that, how are you holding up?" Gloaming sighed. "All that time is a half-remembered nightmare, but it left its mark. I am a man out of time, a man who has experienced sorest betrayal and been forced to suffer in another's place. I am not sure those scars will ever entirely heal. (7) And after the Void, I can safely say that the thing I fear most is eternity. I have glimpsed it, and it is... an unbearable thought. (8) I can only hope that I get a chance to live my new life well, and to rest when I am done." (9)

 

"So you come from before the United States was even founded. We've come a long way since then. What do you think about that?" Gloaming chuckled. "If you are asking whether I am racist and sexist, no, I am not. In this new world I will simply do as I have always done; I will consider each person I meet based on his or her actions and nothing more." (11) "That's good to hear. But what about the United States? Where are your loyalties?" "With people. The struggles of nations are not my place. I work here, on the ground level, to improve the world." (12)

 

"So, when you jumped forward in time, who got left behind?" Gloaming sighed again, his one eye faraway beneath the orange glow. "There was Emmaline, of course. I loved her with all my heart, but it seems I was nothing more than a tool to her. That is... difficult to recover from." (13) He choked up for a moment, and Gerard let him be. "And then my family. They are all long dead now, of course, and I have no idea what became of them in what remained of their lives. If any Syme is watching this, I would welcome contact." (14)

 

"If they were around," Gerard asked carefully, "what would they think of you?" "That I was a beloved nitwit," Gloaming replied with a laugh. (15) "My first life was a long series of mistakes; I had everything I needed in abundance, but it was never enough for me. That... that greed led me to power, but also disaster, and I would not follow the same path again. I should be no one's role model. (16) I hope to make up for those mistakes by using my power responsibly this time, but I can never get back what I lost, and I deserve that."

 

"Gloaming, Seth, what about spirituality? Are you a person of faith?" Gloaming nodded. "My parents raised me to be a good Christian, but I largely failed at that. I thought of myself before others, something I intend to change as much as I can. Some who share my faith would condemn my power as witchcraft, but I don't see it that way. It is a tool, neither good nor evil. God set the multiverse in motion, but he gave us free will. We can use that freedom, and the power we can find with it, as we choose. I choose to try to follow Christ's example."

 

"I respect that not everyone does so, or wants to hear about it, or respects the fact that I do. This is my belief for my life, and I will neither advertise it further nor push it upon anyone. But to me, it seems that people with powers are here for a reason. I believe there is a plan." (17, 19) "Fair enough. It sounds like your faith is built to play well with others, so to speak. Are you hoping to find a team here in Freedom City?" Gloaming pondered that for a moment, then shrugged. "If there were an offer, I would not say no. But I feel that I can do well on my own." (18)

 

"Well, Gloaming, Freedom City welcomes you! Just don't burn yourself out, alright? You've got your whole new life ahead of you." (20) The hero nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Scott. I will try to keep that in mind." And with a flick of his wrist he opened a glowing portal, the same autumn color as his eyes, and stepped through. "Did you get all that?" The cameraman offered a thumbs up, and Gerard pumped a fist in the air. "This is our ticket to the big time, Joey! Our first exclusive!" With a whoop, he ran to tell his manager.

Timeline

>The Void Mansion: July 18th, 2013, 12:00 AM. Seth Syme, freshly arrived in the twenty-first century, digs his way out of his unmarked grave to find a changed world. He soon finds himself in a desperate battle for his old family home, sucked into the void along with him and now infested with the strange and vile creatures that dwell in that place between places.

 

>Space to Be: July 19th, 2013, 9:00 PM. After beginning a legal battle over ownership of the property his house stands on and his own legal status as, technically, an illegal immigrant, Seth catches up on the history he missed at the public library. He ponders whether there is any place for him in modern America, and concludes that he can only hope so.

 

>Automated Withdrawal: July 20th, 2013, 3:00 PM. While searching for the mask he must destroy to save his soul, Seth suddenly detects a mystical bank robbery: the bank, animated by sorcery, is robbing itself! Determined to prevent this misuse of the arcane, Seth intervenes. He is aided by Comrade Frost, Amelyth, Foreshadow, and Silver Spider, his first encounter with superheroes.

 

>Interview: July 21st, 2013, 7:00 PM. Gloaming explains a little about himself to the people of Freedom City.

 

>No Tern Unstoned: July 25, 2013, 10:30 PM. After a week in Freedom City, Seth has made no progress whatsoever in finding the elusive mask. While searching near Lonely Point, he comes across an ugly situation: a ship manned by OVERTHROW thugs has run aground, spilling a weaponized hallucinogen! He is aided in containing it by Tsunami, Ironclad, The Inspector, Wisp, and Commander Alice Volkland of the US Coast Guard.

Origin Story

"Will it hurt?"

 

It was a silly thing to ask; of course it would. Seth turned the ritual knife over and over in his shaking hands, trying to take deep breaths. He sat on a rock, his legs too weak with terror to bear his weight. The tall, old trees seemed to bear down on him, their branches like claws and every knot in the wood a leering, menacing face. A mist of light rain fell on his head, and had already soaked through his thin linen shirt. In the distance, thunder boomed. The knife was sharp. It would only take an instant, plunge and twist, then done.

 

"Yes," Emmaline told him, her voice like music even when she was distressed. "You don't have to do this, Seth. It's too much to ask." He smiled weakly in response. "For you, nothing is too much." She returned his shaky smile, a tear running down her smooth cheek to be lost in the rain, and wrapped her small hands around his left, giving it a reassuring squeeze. A bolt of lightning seemed to race through him at her touch, as it always did. He laid the dagger across his lap and reached out, smoothing her rain-slicked hair out of her face.

 

"I'll be here for you the whole way through. I'll always be here for you." His smile, though still sad, grew stronger. "I know you will. I love you, Emmaline." He wrapped his hand around the dagger's hilt once more, less shaky now. Soon he would have power. He would be like her, and with her, for as long as their lives should last, and nothing mattered more than that. He raised the dagger to eye level, murmured a soft prayer, and closed his right orb for the last time. And then, in a flash of motion and a cry of pain, it was over.

 

---------------------------------------------------

 

"I... I can't hold them much longer." Sweat streamed down Seth's brow as he strained, one hand outstretched toward the heavy wooden door as it buckled under repeated impacts. It was all going to end, everything he'd sacrificed for, all his plans and hopes and dreams. Would they burn him? Shoot him? Hang him? It didn't matter; not even Emmaline, far more powerful than he, could defy death. He was going to die watching her die, and if he tried to fight back Prophet might do the same to his family too.

 

"I have it!" Emmaline exclaimed, her sweat-slick ebon locks plastered against her ivory face and the azure dress that matched her eyes. Even now, even at the end, his heart seized whenever he looked at her, whenever he thought about the love they shared. She had a plan, he realized with a smile; she always did. "I'll hold the door; complete the ritual! It will bind our spirits to our most treasured objects; Prophet's men will break down the door and find no trace of us!" Her excitement was contagious, and Seth let out a whoop of joy.

 

Leaving her to hold the door, he bent over the ritual circle, quickly picking up the threads of the magic she'd dropped. It would be a simple task to finish weaving them. Her first, he decided, suddenly serious again; if there wasn't time for both of them, he had to make sure that she, at least, escaped. With a wave of his hands and a few muttered arcane syllables, he set her porcelain mask aglow. She turned and blew him a kiss as he vanished, and he smiled. Behind him, the door flew from its hinges. Plenty of time.

 

He closed the second loop, waiting for his bracer, that wondrous gift she'd given him, to glow, a fierce smile plastered across his face. Step by step that smile faded. Rough hands seized him, rough rope bound him. The glow never came. A kick scattered the ritual circle, and the bracelet was torn from his wrist and cast aside. Seth murmured a quiet prayer as he was wrestled from the room, a prayer for his family who would see him hanged, a prayer for Emmaline's safety, and a prayer for his own soul. He knew his time was over.

 

---------------------------------------------------

 

Drifting, unmoored in time and space, an eternity of nothing in every direction, Seth tried for the billionth time to go mad. He couldn't stand it, the nothingness: no sensation, no sight, only the silent screaming of his mind. He had no idea how long he'd been like this, or how long he would be, only that he was not allowed to break. Every instant was as torturous as the last, on down into eternity. A hell of fire and brimstone, a place of physical anguish, he would have given anything for. He just wanted to be again, to feel something, anything.

 

And then, all at once, it was over. His eyes, long unused, struggled to adjust as a being materialized before him. Its skin was like cracked earth in a landslide, an ever-shifting pattern of shadow covered with spiderweb cracks through which shone light as bright as the noonday sun. Its voice boomed in his ears, an earthquake transformed into a sound wave, and he cried out in pain. It took him some time after the deafening barrage had subsided to puzzle out what it had said, and longer still to understand it.

 

HEARMESETHSYMEYOUHAVEBEENBETRAYED

 

The voice brought with it images than wormed their way into his mind. He saw Emmaline and himself, but zoomed out, looking at the big picture he had been too lovesick to ever notice. He saw her grooming him, cultivating his power, taking shortcuts to increase his magical ability as swiftly as possible. Then he saw her making a deal with the being before him, promising her soul, and everything clicked into place. Numbness swept through him. "It was all a lie," he breathed. "I was her puppet, her instrument to save herself..."

 

BUTICANOFFERYOUPOWERANDNEWLIFE, the creature thundered, IFYOUBRINGMEHERSOULTOTAKEYOURPLACE...

Gloaming, Mage of the Cosmic Dusk

"Old loves, they die hard. Old lies, they die harder." -Nightwish, "Wish I had an Angel"

Hearken and ye shall find herein the adventures of Gloaming, Mage of the Cosmic Dusk.

The young Seth Syme, manipulated by one he loved, suffered a terrible betrayal that left him dead. But to some powerful entities death itself is not immutable, and the inscrutable Twilight Angel granted Seth not only increased power but a second chance at life. More than three hundred years after his birth, Gloaming was forced to navigate a time and place alien to him in order to right that betrayal and save his very soul.

Contents

>Origin Story

>Timeline

>Interview

>Hell Q

>Reputation

Space to Be

July 19th, 2013

9:00 PM

"So," Seth murmured to himself, "we're not British any more."

He closed the heavy history textbook with a heavier sigh, returning it to its shelf; he would have stayed longer, but the library was closing and one of the guards was breathing down his neck. He offered the man a smile, got a tired nod in return, and made for the door, thoughts whirling through his head at terrible speed. It only got worse as he stepped out of the main branch and into the bustle of city center, still going strong in spite of the time of night; it was a Friday, and for many the night was only just beginning.

He stared up at the Federal Building, taller than he could have imagined anything could be until yesterday, and sighed again. Everything was different; everything he had known was gone. His house was warped almost beyond recognition, his city had grown in every direction and squashed what he remembered being where it stood, and his people were all long dead. Only the unmarked grave he'd dug himself out of had been unchanged, the saddest of familiarities. What was left for him in this time and place?

He'd gone to court that morning; not only was his house standing on what was now someone else's land, his public defender had explained as she tried to wrap her head around the most bizarre case she'd ever been assigned, but he was actually an illegal alien. He laughed at the memory, not a little bitterly. "Will they deport me? I'd like to see how." Here he was, broke and unclaimed by any nation, with only the few facts about the modern world that the Twilight Angel had considered important to guide him.

Yet Seth had to admit that there had been gains in the time he'd been gone, gains that far, far outweighed the losses of one man. The vile institution of slavery had been abolished, and progress had been made against racial prejudice. Men and women were equal in the eyes of the law (and usually in practice). People even in the lowest class regularly lived past fifty. Science, medicine, industry, all had made unimaginable progress; they even had those confusing card-catalog computer machines in the library now, and what a library!

And then there was Seth Syme, Gloaming, a man truly out of time. He stood there in fashions three hundred years out of date, staring up in awe at a tower that everyone here took for granted. He cast ancient magics where others used equally mighty technologies to accomplish the same goals. He prayed to a God whose worship was in worldwide fragmentation and decline, and whose most vocal followers remaining were the ones preaching the message most at odds with Christ: hate. Where could he fit in this age?

But he had read about this United States of America now. He was not certain about the efficacy of democracy, and he was not ready to give any country his allegiance; he never had before, even in his own day. But what he had read told a story, a story about diverse groups of people coming together in one space and learning, over the centuries, how to live together. That process was continuing, however slowly. People still came looking for a place to be who they were without fear, and America continued to struggle to be that place.

Perhaps, in such a nation, there was space even for Seth Syme.

Seth hit the floor of the library with a gasp, his impact with the cold stone driving the wind from his lungs. But the angry buzz-hiss of spirits not far away drove him back to his feet; he knew he didn't have long. He'd been lucky to end up here, he reflected, given how much the layout of the house had been changed. But this was the place he needed to be, for his one chance at cleansing all of these unwelcome guests lay somewhere within. But the library, once a small room toward the back of the house with a few shelves, was now a vast and cavernous space!

In his day books had been a precious and expensive commodity, and his voracious hunger for knowledge had been sated only one volume at a time. But now the huge arched room contained dozens of long mahogany shelves, each loaded to bursting with heavy tomes. Gilded spines with crimson lettering stared out at him in the dim light of the cold blue candelabras that lit the space, glittering mockingly as he tried to search through them. It took him only a moment to realize that the search was entirely hopeless; he could spend hours just reading all the titles.

From memory, then; the angry buzz was getting louder, telling him that time was running out. Casting around, he withdrew a candle from one of the candelabras and mushed the wax into the floor in the rough shape of a pentagram (he'd never been much of an artist). Then he reached up to the cuts on his cheek, smearing his fingers with blood, and added circular daubs of it to a few of the cells within the wax. That was the easy part. He cast back to the arcane texts he'd been shown three hundred years earlier, trying to remember what to say and how to move.

All the while, the angry voices of the spirits grew louder...

GM

The energy burst from Seth in a wild, roiling mass, huge strands of autumn-colored energy that wrapped around his captors and pulled tight against their limbs. The Succubus danced away, her lithe form more agile than incorporeal spirits were accustomed to needing to be, but her servants were held fast. And then, with another flick of his hand, the young wizard opened a portal and leapt through, leaving his bound and seething enemies behind.

The Succubus hissed in frustration. "He can't have left the house. Find him, all of you, and tear him apart!" Ignoring the three servants that had failed her, she abandoned the bedroom for the tall railing outside it, spreading leathery wings from her back as she prepared to launch herself to whatever floor the wizard had chosen. "All of you!" she screamed, and slowly, reluctantly, the spirits took notice, seething through the walls as they combed Havenglen House for its would-be master...

Gloaming earns a hero point for resisting sore temptation, and promptly uses it to manifest an alternate power of magic (an affects incorporeal burst area snare). The spirits and succubus must make DC20 reflex saves. The succubus succeeds, but all three spirits fail by five or more, causing them to become immobilized. Gloaming then creates a portal as a free action and steps through.

28 on a Knowledge (Arcane Lore) check to perform a ritual, modified a further +2 for Seth's familiarity with and partial mastery of the house, which creates a 30 and a success.

Seth nodded as the other heroes arrived, somewhat surprised that there wasn't more of a reaction; in his day, the appearance of someone with any of the abilities that had just been demonstrated would have been cause for great wonder - or, as he knew all too well, a witch hunt. He did not recognize any of these heroes, but that hardly surprised him; the Twilight Angel had given him general knowledge at most, and he had been in the city only a week. Still, they had already displayed formidable abilities, and he could not deny that he was impressed.

For a moment he considered leaving; the situation was clearly well in hand if so many of these capable individuals had responded so quickly, and every moment he went without finding the mask could mean the loss of his very soul. But he had no idea what might happen aboard that massive steel beast of a ship, and his abilities were well-suited to helping. Besides, what good, honest, God-fearing man could see such distress and not stop to offer aid, even if only as part of a greater whole? No sense in clinging to pride.

"Ladies," he said, making a formal half-bow at the waist, "it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance." For a moment he worried that his eyepatch and strange garb would unnerve them, but as the thought percolated through his head he nearly laughed aloud. The formidable-looking young women, clearly more experienced than he in the business of helping people despite their tender age, had probably seen far stranger sights; in addition, he found it vaguely amusing that he still had the vanity to ponder the question.

He could not help but notice that both were rather lovely, the Cathayan girl rising out of the water like a petite, bright almond-eyed Birth of Venus and the other (an Albino?) with a cascade of lustrous white hair to frame her pretty face and match her curves. And they were not much younger than he...

Seth coughed politely behind his hand, banishing the flush from his cheeks and making sure to look them both respectfully in the eye. He was here on a mission, he reminded himself, and had a truly awful track record with the ladies (well, a lady, but losing his soul left rather a large impression) to boot; these two were powerful people who could make a difference in a bad situation, and he would not allow himself to see them as anything else. "I am but a newcomer here," he said, "little versed in the way of things in this place and time. How do you suggest we proceed?"

GM

It was a testament partly to Commander Volkland's unflappable nature and partly to the ubiquity of superheroes in and around Freedom City that the veteran officer did not even blink as three superhumans arrived on the scene, two materializing out of thin air and another rising out of the ocean while a glimmering trail in the night sky hinted at the imminent arrival of yet another. She paid no heed to the seagull, one of many taking wing that night, and simply turned to the new arrivals to offer a crisp salute. "Tsunami, Wisp..."

"Gloaming," the last one offered, and she nodded. "I'm Commander Volkland of the USS Providence. It's good to have you here. We've got an ugly situation, and it's only getting uglier." She walked over to the ship's port rail, silhouetted against the water below by the high-power spotlights glaring past her, and gestured at the container ship they were trained on, still broadcasting so that the incoming hero could also hear. "We have no idea what this ship is even called, much less what it's doing here. They ran aground two hours or so ago, and we moved in to try and help."

She pointed to the divots in her bulletproof vest and the bandage around her shoulder with a grimace. "They weren't looking for help; the minute we got close, they opened up on us. We backed off to wait for help, but now there's something leaking from the bottom of the ship. I don't know if it's oil or what, but I'm willing to bet it's not something we want getting washed up on the beaches. If you could help with either problem, we'd be grateful; we're not equipped for this, and our reinforcements are still an hour out."

Sure enough, the strange purplish cloud beneath the container ship was beginning to spread further into the water...

The Inspector:

High above, riding the turbulent night winds, The Inspector could sense two clusters of minds. One, the Coast Guard ship, was full of tense efficiency; men and women were going about their designated tasks with the stress of imminent battle clouding their thoughts, leaving room for little save the maneuvers they had drilled time and again. There were flashes of pain as well; some of those aboard had been injured, several of them badly. Four other minds, very different in attitude, were also present; they were attentive, determined, and unafraid.

 

Across the little inlet, where the massive cargo ship had run aground in a jumble of twisted metal, The Inspector could sense apprehension and disappointment that was verging on panic. Violence drifted over their thoughts like a crimson miasma, making them likely to lash out at anyone who came too close. Such ships, in spite of their size, were typically crewed by only thirteen men. This one had thirty aboard, maximum crew capacity, and those who were not standing at the railing with weapons ready were scampering about inside for reasons unknown.

Sounds good! Foreshadow smashes the rug down to the ground for the round, but it's unlikely to stay there beyond that; aside from having the dust knocked out of it and losing its momentum, it's undamaged.

No worries, AA! Guess he's not staying frosty, har har. That puts our friend Foreshadow up first!

Amelyth and Gloaming are tied, but to save time I'm just going to have Gloaming opt to go after her.

Initiative Order: 

Foreshadow

Amelyth

Gloaming

Silver Spider

Animated Objects

Comrade Frost

Once per day per thread is fine with me!

Sure, Shaen! Feel free to drop on in. 

>OOC

>IC

A week in the city, and still no sign of the mask.

Seth Syme stepped out of one of his dusky portals, letting it snap shut behind him, and surveyed the horizon with his glowing gaze. It was dark now, dark enough that his human vision was near-blind away from the streetlights of Freedom proper, but that had no effect on his Second Sight, the more important of the two at the moment. After a moment of turning in a slow circle, squinting hard (even though that didn't actually help at all), he sighed. Another of God knew how many sweeps that left him in the same place he started.

It wasn't that his time here had been wasted; he'd done some good in the city already, and he was certainly glad to have been able to do so. It was that he had no idea how long the Twilight Angel was going to let him keep his new life if he didn't produce results. The creature wasn't evil, but it wasn't good either. Pragmatism ruled it, and if he tested its patience too far it would probably cut its losses and take his soul back. An involuntary shudder ran down his spine. The thought of true eternity in the void chilled him like nothing else.

Then a light on the water caught his eye, the large but mundane kind. What was it doing so far out from the harbor? Summoning another portal, he came closer, and soon it was clear. A sleek metal cutter bobbed in the dark waters, shining searchlights on the hull of a container ship with a crumpled front and multiple gouges further down its hull. The uniformed men and women aboard the smaller ship had rifles trained on the apparent derelict, their faces guarded. Something was going on, something bad. A blast of loudspeaker noise confirmed it.

"Unidentified vessel," came a strong, assertive voice, clearly female. "This is the U.S. Coast Guard. I suggest you thrown down your weapons and come down to the beach with your hands on your heads; further attacks will be met with deadly force." Seth frowned; the Coast Guard under attack by a beached ship? Still, deadly force was not something he wanted to have happen on either side here. With one final portal conjuring he arrived on the deck of the ship, ready to offer his assistance in disarming the ugly situation.

This is the OOC thread for No Tern Unstoned, an aquatic expedition against OVERTHROW!

Featuring: Elegy, Thevshi, Azuth65, and Raveled!

A map of the crash site (10 foot squares, because ships are huge):

The ship on the right is the Coast Guard cutter, while the crashed container ship is visible on the left.

GM

July 25th, 2013

10:30 PM

Commander Alice Volkland of the U.S. Coast Guard was not having a good night.

It had all started out innocently enough; heavy winds and lashing rain throughout the day had driven any number of ships off course, and one more report of the same phenomenon was hardly surprising. That the ship had ended up in restricted waters had complicated matters; that it was a container ship that had run aground had made things downright nasty. The crew of the cutter USS Perseverance had been resigned to a long night of working with local tugs to get the vessel free, assuming it could still float.

But Commander Volkland, who had the experience to back up her rank, had immediately recognized an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, one that was almost always right. Investigating on the way to the scene, she couldn't find a registration number or even a name on the beached ship, let alone any reason it would've come close to restricted waters. And the storm, while it blew all around, shouldn't have put any vessel that far off in that particular direction. Then there was the fact that the vessel's crew had never called for help.

As it turned out, her seemingly paranoid order to get everyone into combat gear had saved several lives, including her own. The men on the deck of the cargo ship had opened up with small arms the minute the Perseverance had come into range, putting two rounds in her vest and two crewmen in sickbay. She'd pulled back immediately, deploying snipers to watch the deck, and radioed for backup. Whatever this was, it was bigger and nastier than her crew could take on alone. And what was that purple stuff spewing out of the ship's ruptured underbelly?

"This is Commander Volkland of the USS Perseverance, broadcasting on all emergency channels. We are under attack by the crew of a beached container ship on the south side of Lonely Point, and require immediate assistance. The enemy appears to be paramilitary, well trained and armed, and the ship appears to be leaking an unknown contaminant..."

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"Keep them at a distance," ordered Agent Sixty-Two, his voice oddly distorted by his gas mask. Though he maintained a firm grip on his submachine gun and kept any quaver from his tone, his mind reeled with panic. Everything had been going so well at first; they'd been within miles of Blackstone Island, their terrifying cargo secure and ready for deployment, when the storm had torn all their delicate plans to shreds. The ship was going nowhere, the Coast Guard was shining searchlights right in his face, and (worst of all) the canisters in the hold had ruptured.

The purple mist seeping up through the corners of the cargo doors reminded him constantly of that fact, and that the gas masks had perhaps a half hour left now before the filters were thoroughly contaminated. When that happened, they would all go mad and kill each other. If he left the ship and tried to get to a safehouse, he would almost certainly be arrested and dealt with in prison to keep him from talking. If he managed to reach the safehouse, he would be executed for spectacular failure. He was all out of options.

To top it all off, the gas (which had always reacted unpredictably with water) would soon spread into the ocean and scatter on the wind, driving sharks and sea birds and everything in-between to madness. And, of course, leaving behind samples to be analyzed and counteracted, rendering the long years spent developing and perfecting this new weapon worthless. That much, at least, he still had the power to prevent. He would keep the formula out of enemy hands at all costs. "Ensign," Sixty-Two grimly ordered, "initiate Protocol Scorch."