Search the Community

For rolls and such! Feel free to make whatever Knowledge, Gather Information or Sense Motive checks seem appropriate.

A warm summer breeze blew through the West End street of small businesses and restaurants weathering the times with varying degrees of success. The light wind stirred the gorgeous flowering plants hanging from the second storey windows of one such building, trailing leaves and vines brushing against the top of a bold gold-on-black sign that proclaimed the street-level floor to be home to "The Espadas School of Self-Defense and Swordsmanship!". The dojo had been open for a little over a month at that point, attendance gradually picking up as fliers throughout the city and good word-of-mouth did their job. The proprietor was a well like native of the neighbourhood if unknown in the city at large and while the more introductory self defense courses were all well and good it was the more specific sword fighting classes which were purportedly worth the trip. Erik Espadas himself was locked in particularly grueling battle with the second hand computer on the reception desk, attempting to bring up the spreadsheet with the list of new students signed up for that week's class. "No, that's the budget," he grumbled under his breath, the annoyed expression on his lightly stubbled face visible from the other side of the large windows that looked out onto the street. "Depressing but not helpful right now. C'mon..." The attendee would be showing up shortly; if he could get this sorted out he was going to have to track down a pad of paper and a pen to take attendance.

The swordsmanship class for Blodeuwedd, Gaian Kight, Myrmidon and Sage!

June 3, 2011 9 AM Secure in his locked-down office, Warden Drummer stared at the broadcast again, his mouth a tight line of pure rage. "When I find out how he managed to build twenty robot bees in solitary in my prison, I will find whoever is responsible and I will murder them. I have been in the corrections business for twenty-five years. I know how to make it look like an accident!" He sighed, looking again around his office. Too bad there was no one around to hear it; that had been one of his more satisfying rants. With a curse, he picked up the secure landline on his desk and dialed the Freedom League...

Early December Gaian Knight sat in a chair in a black room, the only thing visible in what could have been a yawning cavern for all the viewer could tell. Though his face was hidden under hood, goggles, and cloth his posture was all business as he leaned forward and pulled something out of his coat pocket. “This,†he said, holding up something small and unidentifiable and speaking in an absurd voice, “is cra--“ The film crew cracked up and, when they could get the breath to do so, called cut. The hero leaned back, chuckling and holding up what was now clearly a small, average white rock. “Sorry, sorry,†he apologized, holding up one hand while the other put the stone back in his coat pocket. “We’ve been at it a while...I couldn’t resist!†Aside from some good-natured scowling no one really seemed that put out. The earthmover put his game face back on as the lights went down again (I really hope this is the last take.) and the crew gave him the signal to go. Gaian Knight sat in a chair in a black room, the only thing visible in what could have been a yawning cavern for all the viewer could tell. Though his face was hidden under hood, goggles, and cloth his posture was all business as he leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. “Everyone,†he said, “has heroes. Most people wish they were heroes; they wish they had that kind of power, to fly, to fight crime, to....†He pulled a little crystal out of his coat, floating it above his hand. “....to make the earth move.†He frowned at the crystal for a moment before letting it drop, catching it in a closed hand as he stood up. “But this isn’t really power, is it?†Shaking his head, he slowly walked to the side, camera turning to follow him. “Anyone can get exposed to a meteor, or find some ancient artifact, or be a little too close to a science lab explosion. But you know what real power is?†He tapped the side of his head. “It’s up here.†The camera stopped following him now, and as he left the screen the background changed to an airport.... “Do you know who can fly? Pilots can.†....to some officers leading handcuffed villains away.... “Do you know who can stop crime? The police.†....to a construction site. “Do you know who can move the earth? A civil engineer.†As the image faded back to black the camera caught up with him again, as he’d apparently walked in a large circle and made it back to his chair. “As cheesy as it sounds, real power - honest to goodness true power - isn’t in a glowing rock or an Atlantean staff or a chemical explosion. Real power is in you, in your mind, and in the limitless potential that mind can give you. And the only way to exercise that power, the only way to make sure that you are the best, the most powerful you can be, is to stay in school. So go to class, pay attention...and be the most powerful thing of them all: your own hero.â€

"Wait, seriously?" "Mm." "You built that - all of that - without a college degree." "Yes." "You’re not even a student?" "No. Never put a foot on a campus." "Huh." A dim glow illuminated a cramped metal room that didn’t have much room to spare after accommodating the two trapped heroes - could an observer see in the inky blackness (and, dear reader, why not?) they might note the curious contrast - the sword-wearing, goggled, longcoat-clad Gaian Knight at one end cross-legged on the floor, and the technologically-gifted, gauntleted, visor-obscured Dragonfly leaning back at the other, feet propped up on a wall as she stared up at their metal prison. "Seriously, though," the earthmover probed, mostly to fill the silence. "Never? Not even a single class?" The inventor only shrugged. "No. High school, either. GED, though. Safety nets...mm. Why? That surprising?" "Well, I mean...well yeah. You don’t think it’s a little weird to build all that stuff with just a GED?" She tilted her head, apparently pondering that for a minute. "Maybe," she conceded. "Not sure someone who doesn’t breathe can talk about ‘weird’." He had to laugh at that, throwing up his hands. "Hey, hey. Alright. In my defense, I normally DO breathe. I just don’t really have to when I’m underground." "Mm." There was silence again, filled only by fidgeting and the quiet, almost imperceptible noise coming from Dragonfly’s gear. Far, far above the metal roof came the noise of machinery and shouted orders. "So, uh, I don’t mean to pry. But...why?" came the question that once more broke the silence. "Didn’t really see a point. Know plenty...could teach half the classes. By proficiency. Experience poor, patience...mm. May not be suited for it. But have the knowledge." "Well, sure, okay. But there’s so much more to it than that! I think you’d gain a lot by getting a-" He barely managed to cut himself off before saying ‘proper education’. "...a solid college experience." She turned her head and raised an eyebrow, her shifting audible in the close quarters and silence. "Examples?" she challenged. "Like....erm. It’s a whole...social....I mean, it’s not what you learn, it’s what you....that is...." He trailed off, and he could see (Bless you a thousand times, fancy and expensive goggles.) her flat stare, the full force of a stubborn and unamused young woman turned in his direction (Curse you a thousand times, fancy and expensive goggles.). "You could...meet people your own age?" he finished, rather weakly, his hands spread in an unseen gesture of helplessness. She snorted, turning her head back up to look up at the ceiling. The noise was changing, now, the dim sound of machines being turned on and sending vibrations that made the metal walls hum. "Little use for people my age. ...am not that young, anyway." There was silence again, though this time the sounds from above were muffled by the terrible awkwardness that filled the air. Both heroes, magic and science, cheered inside as they heard a loud and reverberating hum through the ground, as if some massive generator had been switched on up above ground. They stood up, adjusting their respective coat or jacket and making sure they were leaving nothing behind. Her gauntlets were already charging, lines of blue and quietly illuminated glass; his hands glowed a soft golden brown in the darkness as he reached out with his senses and felt the earth above them. "Ready?" "Mm. Ready. Teleporting in five...." Then there was a flash, the sound of air rushing to fill a vacuum, and nothing. The little metal container sat silent again and empty, deep beneath the earth while sounds of fighting broke out on the surface above.