Rifts Adventure - IC Thread

[Psychie]

Our game will begin soon.

Sherwood GunMan2 Eonivar Purr

 

[Psychie]

It has been the week from hell. After a disastrous attempt to earn some credits doing some honest work , Raven's truck had gotten ripped up badly by a T-rex, Dreamy's robot horse was mauled, body armor has been damaged, and everyone has burned through so much ammo it will take a couple of million credits just to break even!

Right now, you are scraping the bottom of the barrel when it comes to your credit supply, and you are in need of getting your gear and vehicles repaired. The other problem you are having is that this town you are currently camped out in is almost wholly owned and controlled by a rather ruthless and unforgiving man named Jake Turner, and he has made it quite clear to everyone in town that he expects to have you working for him on the cheap or else, and nobody is willing to cross him. So good luck getting the supplies you need unless you buckle under.

It is now early evening as the sun sets slowly below the horizon and everyone is sitting in a rough circle around a campfire as you are currently roughing it and camping out in an attempt to save credits on renting a room. The only saving grace for the day is the bottle of moonshine that you were able to buy, and everyone is feeling pretty good even as you wallow in self pity over the unfairness of your situation, unless you choose not to join in the drinking; then you are simply feeling sorry for yourselves.

At the moment, Sylvie is sitting on Raven's knee with a thimble of the hard alcohol that she's sipping at, getting quite drunk and acting rather comical as she does so. The small fairy has finally taken to everyone, including you in the very small group of "Bigs" that she trusts. For the most part, she avoids contact with people, having serious trust issues with just about everyone that is big enough to squish her underfoot, which is somewhat silly, since in this magic-rich world, she is an MDC being and the simple act of stomping on her would do little to hurt the small woman.

The fairy takes another sip of her drink and says, "I don't understand. That one Big named Jake Turner is a meanie. Why does everyone in this town do what he says? Make him go away. < burp. Excuse me! Teehee! > Not like anyone would miss that Big; he's so not nice. Then we could get our broken things fixed with no problem."

Purr GunMan2 Eonivar Sherwood

 

[Purr]

Dreamy of Altara sits in lotus position enjoying the warmth of the crackling campfire. She does not look up to see the evening stars peeking out from behind faraway clouds nor does she turn away from seemingly staring into the brightness of the campfire. Instead, she keeps her eyes closed and slips her blindfold made of black silk over them. Without looking, she reaches up to run one hand down the damaged hide of her beloved robot unicorn standing tall and proud by her side. Her long and lively hair, the color of autumn fires in the deepening dawn, matches the mane and tail of her watchful robot companion. She listens attentively to the little faerie as she gives voice to the core of the team's woes.

To those whose eyes functioned like most people's Dreamy probably makes for a sharp contrast to the tiny, pretty Sylvie in her cloudy white dress. Dreamy remains dressed as she was when her party met its most-recent T-Rex-related woes - in her dark and worn hooded tunic and baggy pants, covered in little rips and tears showing her muscled limbs beneath. From her backpack down to her boots, hers were a somewhat mix-matched set of blacks and browns that served well-enough in stealth, but left something to be desired in the way of color-coordinated fashion. Dreamy was protected by a talisman with an owl etched upon its surface and bedecked with weapons of war. Two rifles and shortbow, a keen Western shortsword alongside a long curved Asian-style blade, a healthy quiver of arrows and who knew what else. Dreamy was a walking armory ready to face the countless and unspeakable terrors that dared to stalk Florida's innocents.

The fairy takes another sip of her drink and says, "I don't understand. That one Big named Jake Turner is a meanie. Why does everyone in this town do what he says? Make him go away. < burp. Excuse me! Teehee! > Not like anyone would miss that Big; he's so not nice. Then we could get our broken things fixed with no problem."

Dreamy's voice is strong and sure as a small smile forms on her beautiful face. "Sylvie? Tales say that there are wise faeries and mischievous faeries, mysterious faeries and murderous faeries." The seemingly-young huntress turns one ear toward Sylvie. "Which do you embrace when you mention meanie Jake Turner? How would you make him 'go away' if you had the choice?"

 

[Sherwood]

Raven let's out a small chuckle. "If things were only that easy. It is also said that if wishes were horses, all beggars would ride. We will not commit wonton murder; it was just that sort of thing that we all escaped from the slave pens on Atlantis. There is a way to get what we need that does not involve homicide. We just need to find it."

 

[Purr]

Dreamy muses and continues to keep her small smile aimed in the fairy's direction.

"Raaaven," Dreamy teases in a friendly tone, "a Code-following Cyber-Knight's position to my question is something even a child could predict. And an Atlantean Cyber-Knight? Doubly so. But a fairy? Especially one like Sylvie? The mind of a faerie is like the scent of a rare flower - known only to those it is willing to open itself to and no others. Don't you wonder where her heart lies on matters like these?"

If the party knows anything at all about Dreamy, it is that she sees each of them as something special, with perspectives only they can provide.

Dreamy continues to pat her robotic unicorn as if it were a real animal while waiting to learn the mind of for what the smallest, and perhaps most-charming, member of their company has to say.

 

[Psychie]

Sylvie looks up at Dreamy and gives her a smile. "Awww, you say such nice things! I knew there was a reason I liked you." She sways a bit on her seat but manages to regain her balance before falling, and her expression gets a bit pouty. "There are times that being one of the good guys is soooo hard. I don't like this Big, but no, I don't think he should be dead. I just don't know what to do. He wants you to work for him doing things that are bad, and thinks that his money makes it ok for him to do bad things. Why do so many Bigs want money so badly? All it does is make people greedy and that's just bad."

 

[Sherwood]

Raven gives Sylvie a sad smile. "People have been asking that question about the evils of money and greed for as long as mankind has walked this Earth. If you can come up with the answer to that, it will be a first in history."

 

[GunMan2]

Along the fire lays a drunk Asian looking young man who wears a open khaki shirt which reveals his slender build and artificial skin muscles. A pair of shades above his head lay askew and his demeanor is like simply saying fuck it im just going to drink. A simple souvenir of a shark tooth that maybe costed no more then a dollar. Black shorts that had seen better days and slippers made out of cheap plastic or hygene. His left arm was missing some synthetic skin as it exposed the machinery underneath from ears of neglect or simply being in too many battles. He was laying on his back not drunk enought for this

"Well good luck trying to kill a guy who got like over 100 goons, hitmen, asssasins and wahtnot on his paycheck and lets not forget we got not a penny to our name after what happened and that guy's pay will not be enough to buy a hot dog on a good day"

 

[Eonivar]

Ser Ajax Blackthorn sat at the fire gazing into the flames of the camp fire, as he tended to his shield and sword, carefully wiping them down with a rag. They were magical weapons, and he could expend more of his precious magic to clean them but he had decided to save it. He got more satisfaction manually cleaning and caring for his own gear anyway. He did not have to repair it, the shield regenerated itself over time (as did his sword).

The fire light did not reflect against the magically enhanced black armor which while looking heavy and intimidating with the removable chains that criss-crossed across his chest, and the spikes on his forearms, shoulders, and knees, also made not a sound when he moved. Long wavy dark hair, loosened and released after a long day of work, tumbled down over his shoulders, and fair angular features with two long pointed ears that marked him as Elvenkind. Dark eyes momentarily blinked in the fire and then focused back on his work, wiping down a large round shield of dark metal with a white rose emblazoned on it. During infiltration missions, he put a cover over it but he had removed the cover since reaching the mainland from Atlantis.

He had used some of his magic cast a Sustain spell on himself earlier in the day removing the need to eat, and after the ordeal with the Splugorth and reawakening that trauma with the beings who had taken and enslaved him as a child plus the bad luck that followed, he had no desire to drink alcohol.

Beyond his armor damage, with most of his things being powered by magic and with the fact he could magically charge modern energy weapons ammunition, he was not affected as much as the others in terms of damage to gear and lack of food.

He quietly listened to the conversation. "I am sure there are many under his employ who would love to take the opportunity to kill the thug so they could take over but I am not sure if this place is worth the time or effort. If you all would be willing to journey to the closest ley line, I can recharge all of your energy weapons as I have done in the past."

 

[Sherwood]

Raven lets out a sigh. "I would hate to remove this dictator just to see another one come up in power in his place. If we are to do anything about the situation here, we cannot leave the job halfway done. This will take considerable thought to avoid making a grave mistake."

He then looks over at Ajax and says, "I'm sure we can make a quick run to a ley line and recharge what we can, but for me, other than the barrier rifle, my shotgun is a slug thrower and no amount of wishing will reload it without buying more rounds. I have a small supply left, enough to keep us going until I can acquire more or get a replacement weapon."

 

[Eonivar]

Ajax glanced over at Raven and nodded in agreement.

“All I see here is yet another band of unscrupulous mercenaries. They are all over North America, probably all over the World. Give a survivor a little bit of power and they will take and take and take, out of fear and trauma alone. Give them someone who makes them think they are invulnerable and they become fanatical. I am half expecting them to try and attack us because they will see us as weak and vulnerable.”

 

[Psychie]

Kalepo is currently on a small town market road with a few of the last credits that your group had to rub together trying to haggle for some food and other supplies that your band of adventurers need. This are not going too well for you since many of the store keepers won't risk angering Turner by doing business with you until such time as you sign in to work for the businessman.

It is during one moment of frustration that you are approached by an older man, probably in his fifties, with the look of someone that has taken great effort to keep in shape. He is wearing a cloak over a lightweight suit of MDC armor and is sporting a sidearm of some kind on his hip. You don't recognize him as one of Turner's cronies.

He says, "Please forgive me for being so forward, but I couldn't help but overhear that you are in need of some supplies, and you're not getting much cooperation from the locals. Perhaps we might be able to help each other out with our problems in a mutually beneficial way. Can we talk?"

 

[Eternal Alchemist]

Kalepo had come to the market with his aquatic lemur, which was moving from left to right on his shoulders. Rengar, the war steed, was staying a little further away from the market to avoid making the locals too uncomfortable. Kalepo stood 6'1" tall, with black and blond hair, and his currently concealed barnacle bio-armor was retracted to cover just his chest. He found the humidity and marshland relatively pleasant, and it was everything he needed for his biomancy.

After taking a look at the man, he responded in a friendly way:

"We can definitely talk, what do you have in mind?"

 

[Psychie]

The man looks pleased that his offer was not being summarily rejected, and he replies with, "A business proposal, one that can offer help to both you and your companions, and to me and my ward." He looks around at that various people milling about and returns his gaze to Kalepo. "This is something probably best discussed away from here and with your companions. Shall we go to your camp, or would you prefer a different location for our negotiations to take place? Oh, and my name is Rab. Rab Colson."

He offers his hand to you with a friendly expression on his face.

 

[Eternal Alchemist]

Kalepo shakes his hand in return, offering a firm grip, which is apparently a sign of trust with the surface people. "Nice to meet you, Rab Colson," he says. "I'm Kalepo Niko. We can go to my camp. I've spent enough time at the market for today." He communicates with Rengar to get ready to move on, then jumps onto the back of his war steed, ready to go back to camp.

 

[Psychie]

Rab nods to Kalepo and heads on down the street a short distance to where a beat up hover bike sits waiting for him. He starts it up with a cloud of smoke and a high pitched whine of an unhappy engine. He sets off following you a short distance away so he doesn't accidentally spook your mount with the rattling of his bike.

Purr GunMan2 Sherwood Eonivar

Back at the camp, your conversion continues until you hear the sound of an approaching turbine engine, moving slowly towards the campsite. Those of you with the psi power of Sixth Sense can note that your early warning sense is not going off, so it is less likely that there is a threat from the source of the racket.

Sylvie doesn't take any chances with the noisy Big on the way and she flutters up to hide in Raven's hair on his shoulder, peeking out to watch.

Soon, you all "see" (since Dreamy is using her radar sense and good hearing) the approaching Kalepo and the sputtering hover bike coming your way. You don't see any sign that Kalepo is under duress.

What do you do?

 

[Sherwood]

Raven calmly stands up, not making any sudden movements to alarm the stranger and cause him to suspect that there is a fight about to take place. He quietly says to Sylvie, "Don't worry, my little friend. You'll be safe with me." When the struggling hover bike comes to a stop, he gives a nod to Kalepo and waits for introductions to be made.

 

[Purr]

"Some's bike could use a good tune-up," Dreamy remarks as she moves from languishing by the fire to casually standing up. Loathe to leave the few comforts left to herself and her team, the Undead Hunter moves away from the warm fire. Although she has never seen a shadow, she knows well of their power and seems to seek it like a wild animal in the face of a possible threat.

"Seems like Kalepo has made a friend. But who?" Dreamy's hand moves down the beautiful length of her blackwood bow. "If he's hungry like us, I'll give him what I've got left. Besides, I'm in the mood for a good hunt."

 

[Psychie]

The stranger parks his hover bike and climbs off of it. As he does so, you all can see that he's wearing lightweight MDC body armor and has a energy pistol of some kind on his hip. Other than that, he is not packing a huge host of weapons.

Keeping his hands well clear of his sidearm, the man slowly walks up to bed close to the fire. With a pleasant smile, the older man says, "My name is Colson, Rab Colson. I was telling your friend Kalepo that we might be able to help each other out. In my time in this town I have learned the hard way that all business has to be approved by Jake Turner, and I have managed to get on his bad side and because of that, no one will help me. I have precious cargo that I need to deliver, and I have a sizeable bank roll, supplies and ammo to make it happen. What I don't have is any guards to help keep my delivery and myself in one piece."

He pauses to look each of you over, then says, "I need someone that I can count on to be there when things get sticky. When I heard that a Cyber Knight had come to town, I felt like my prayers were answered. As I said, I can get your equipment fixed and your weapons fully loaded along with a large cash bonus included, getting all of us out of this town and away from Mr Turner for good. Does this sound like something you would be interested in?"

 

[Purr]

Dreamy stands in the shadows listening to all and saying nothing at first, but appearing to be brooding over some inner manner. When the six-foot-two woman-warrior speaks, it is not her who is speaking, but the words she is reciting from a soul dead long, long before Turner Town or even Florida was a dream. Dreamy's trained voice carries, presenting her message to Rab Colson and to all who will listen as she recites from memory, her every word as clear as a cloudless night:

"In what are called the golden verses of Pythagoras, who died 497 years before Christ, we read as follows. 'Do not an ill thing, either in company, or alone; but of all, respect yourself first; that is, first pay the duty that is due yourself, to your honour and to your conscience; nor let any foreign regard make you deviate from this faith.'"

Spoiler: O.O.C. Source.

The Republican (supposedly attributed to Phocylides, appx. 540 BCE).

This was her answer. "Rab Colson, my name is Dreamy. I'll play nice if you will. But first, allow me a few moments to pay my duty to myself." With those words, she excuses herself and makes away from the comfort of crackling fire and hurting friends. She pats Troy, her dependable but badly-damaged robot unicorn, and when she is far enough away that night has drowned the beauteous sight of her, she pats the humped skin hidden behind her neck and upper back, camouflaged under the amber colors of her long, unruly hair.

There, in solace and in silence, Dreamy closes her hands, bows her head and inwardly reaches towards the place of every individual's peace - within. There, she does not find the answers she seeks, but it is also there that she can call upon another whose wisdom is as old as animals themselves, whose knowledge is as deep and strong as the trees many find comfort under - Dreamy soundlessly mouths these words and in doing so, attempts to call upon her personal totem, Owl, in the hopes that he will respond and grant her much-needed direction.

"Great Owl, whose eyes showed me the path to freedom and freeing others, whose wings have led me here to the sandy beaches and twisting forests of Florida, this Rab Colson comes before us with a task. A task that will take us away from the wrongness that we have suffered recently from and the foulness that many, many others in this town have suffered for far longer than we.

"Great Owl! I am blessed with the skills and powers of an Undead Huntress and the ways of the assassin are mine to change the lives of others. But which path to take? Would you have me stand against Turner and his dozens in our desire to remove him? Or do I instead aid this Rab Colson and try to forget this town and its people who act against their very wills?

"What is your will, hunter-in-darkness? Oh, Great Owl?"

Dreamy prays only for herself. Each of the others must make their own choice, paying their own duties to themselves and their consciences. For Dreamy, she trusts Owl with her very life and the lives of others, for without him, she would still languish under the ruthless whips of the merciless Splugorth in Atlantis.

Whatever direction Owl provides, Dreamy realizes she will do it, even if she finds herself alone in this resolve. She prays for Owl's response. For there were some questions in this vast and limitless universe that she felt too small to answer on her own.

 

[Psychie]

Purr

Owl does not always respond to you with direct words, instead giving you feelings, images and impressions that must be interpreted by Dreamy in order to understand her patrons' desires. Sometimes the message is not clear, but today it comes to you like a bolt of lightning from a clear day in the form of a cold, dark chill in the night with a pair of red, glowing eyes set over sharp fangs that drip with blood. Vampires. It must mean vampires threaten this town.

Sherwood GunMan2 Eonivar Eternal Alchemist

While Dreamy is off by herself trying to commune with her spirit patron, Rab drops a bombshell on you: Jake Turner is a vampire, along with three of his thugs that follow him. They control the town with an iron hand, but other than a few of their chosen minions, no one knows the true nature of their town's founder.

He obviously doesn't have any proof, but as you think back on the few times you had direct interaction with Turner, it's been at night. That could be just a coincidence, but Rab is quite emphatic about his claim. He could be wrong, but if he's right......

 

[Sherwood]

Raven frowns, feeling troubled. "That is a serious accusation you are making. If it is true, that is a threat we cannot leave unanswered. It should be easy enough to verify; someone just needs to lay eyes in Turner with a See Aura power in effect, and if he is a vampire, we will deal with him."

 

[Eonivar]

Ajax moved up beside and behind Raven, his shield slung on his back, his hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword. He rose a curious elven eyebrow.

"Who among us has the ability? I do not. Also we probably would have to get close to him to determine his aura."

 

[Sherwood]

Raven looks over at Ajax and says, "I can, and my psi power has a range of sixty feet, so I can be at some distance and accomplish the task of checking. So long as he doesn't suspect what I'm doing I should be able to get an accurate reading without alerting Turner."

 

[GunMan2]

Takuma just sighs "Oh, great so that guy is a blood sucker both figuratively and literally" Said the private eye sarcastically. As he gets into a more comfortable sitting position not that it matters as he is made out of metal not flesh so it matters not how he sits. He looks at the other at the campsite looking blathered and bruised having done through some tough work when turned tried to make them his cheap labor.

"So...Who's up to stake a vampire?"