Session 11

From Arispemage

Storyteller: So, last we left, politics and death, and trouble had happened.
Peter: ((Gomen ne, be back in ten minutes))
EMP: Brian had done stuff. Eating, and things.
Peter: ((Back))
Storyteller: (WB.)
Storyteller: The food's good Brian.
EMP: It was good food, made by mages. It was...quite edible.
Storyteller: You also, rather unavoidably, find out that nobody's liking the turn of events.
EMP: It wasn't hard to notice. Learning that the town could possibly be overrun by Pumpkin heads was never a good thought.
Storyteller: You also manage to overhear that Tax taught Rhodes, but that's the past.
Peter: Peter tries his hardest not to seem naive
EMP: "So...is anyone assigned to keep a watch on her?"
Storyteller: "Yes, that's why we know that she's headed this way." One of the arrows around you says that one.
Peter: "So...why doesn't anyone just tell her she's not welcome in this city?"
Storyteller: "She knows that. But she's also crazy as hell."
EMP: "And you do your best to not poke the crazy bear."
Storyteller: Everyone mutters in agreeance with that.
EMP: "You simply watch, wait, and lead her in the right direction to make sure she does the least amount of damage."
Storyteller: One of the sets of doors opens.
Storyteller: Some guy walks in, looks around, then walks toward the Arrow seat.
EMP: Brian's eyes turn to the man walking in.
Storyteller: He sits in it. Gets comfortable, and then waits.
Storyteller: There's a bit of a pregnant pause before one of the other Arrows goes up to him.
Storyteller: They talk quietly, and then the Arrow walks away.
EMP: Brian's eyebrow raised. This was strange...he thought the Piercing Arrow had been too injured to arrive. He got up from his seat, his spear clinking on the floor as he walked up to the man.
EMP: "Frere Piercing Arrow. Good to see you vell."
Storyteller: Rather quietly, he replies "As I should be."
EMP: "Yes. I had heard you had been injured. Ist why the Sharpened Arrow came in your stead. Glad to see it vas a mistake."
Storyteller: "Not wholly a mistake. But, then I thought about things, and decided that the injury wasn't that bad." He smiles broadly.
Storyteller: "So, you are one of the ones that are responsible for the destruction of the beast?"
EMP: Brian smiles back and nodded. "Mother Gaia saw fit to bless her son that day. It vas a taxing time."
Storyteller: "I
Storyteller: 'm rather surpried that there were no casualties."
EMP: "Ve had prepared much beforehand. And ve had some help from the Archmage. Some help he left before his passing."
Storyteller: "Heh. Sounds like him. I wish that some of his students would have taken after him in that respect."
EMP: "A wise man may craft an arrow, but he has no say in where the vind vill take it, eh Frere?"
Storyteller: "So very true."
Storyteller: "It's so tragic that the one student that amounted to anything was such a bad apple."
EMP: "Speaking of Tax's students...do ve have anyvun set aside in case she might create her pumpkinheads while in town?"
Storyteller: "We do, but we're working on training more. The gult of dead bodes ill for us."
EMP: "Understandable. Vhen I can spare him, I'll have Equan scout the graveyards. To make sure our visitor doesn't try to collect resources."
Storyteller: "Heh. That would be helpful."
Storyteller: "Just make certain not to get ambushed yourself. I hear that live bodies work just as well as dead ones."
EMP: Brian gave a hearty Russian laugh. "I'll add that to the list of people after my head."
Storyteller: "Not your head, just your body." He smiles.
EMP: "Vell then, remember, frere, should you need help with any training, I have taught well the acts of Gaia to the initiates. It is vhat I'm paid for, at least."
Storyteller: "I'll make certain to get a message to you if you're needed."
EMP: Brian nodded. "I vill keep my eyes open. Again, good to see you vell."
Storyteller: "The usual message board is along Lum street."
EMP: "I'll remember to check it more often. I hade been relocated again. But, I shall see."
Storyteller: "That's all we can ask."
Storyteller: Adler, you notice that some of the Free Council people are looking at Peter and whispering a bit.
Storyteller: Brian, some guy half in US army fatigues, half in normal clothes walks up to you, and salutes.
Adler: Adler glances at him, and then starts to scoot over in his direction
EMP: Brian turns, looking at the man and nodding. "Yes?"
Peter: Peter was milling around with his hands in his pockets and his head down. He didn't want to let on that he was rather ignoprant, so he let Tink do the talking. The unfortuantely mean-spirited talking...
Storyteller: "I'm going to be the other person that's instructing in forces, just thought I'd meet you"
Storyteller: Also, around now, the 'signing in' has ended. People are now starting to mix, look for others, et al.
EMP: Brian nodded, looking the man up and down. "Gaia breathes through you as Vell. Quite interesting. Vat brigade are you from?
Storyteller: "I'm just one of the 52nd."
EMP: "Good. Good. What ist your specialty? Fire? Magnetics?"
Storyteller: "Gravity."

• 
  Adler glances at the people glancing at people, and clears her throat.

EMP: "Ah. Interesting. Electricity, at your service."
Storyteller: Most of the people doing the glancing look sheepish, and then try to be more discreet.
Storyteller: "Well, I hope that we don't have to deal with any pumpkins before halloween."
Storyteller: The man grins.
EMP: "If ve do, it vill be good practice for the young vuns."
Storyteller: "Yes."
Storyteller: Suddenly, somebody busts in. The slight woman is breathing hard, but manages to get out "LEECHES IN THE TUNNES!" before collapsing on the ground, gasping.
EMP: Brian's head whipped around. "Seems ve spoke too soon."
Storyteller: Abuelo shakes his head, stands up and says "Excuse me."
Storyteller: He then walks out.
Storyteller: There's some worried chatter, but the general consensus is that Abuelo will ask for aid if the situation warrents it.
EMP: Brian's spear tapped on the floor. "Old Man Abuelo is strong...but should ve leave it all to him?"
Peter: "What's so bad about leeches?" Peter asked as he leaned down and started tucking his pants into his socks
Storyteller: The Piercing arrow limps up to you. "The tunnels are quite the fortress.
Storyteller: "In his hands, they are death to all but the largest groups and hardiest of enemies."
Storyteller: Adler, one of the younger Mysterium goes and says to you in a very quiet voice "Leech spirits."
Storyteller: Abuelo walks back in. "Nothing to worry about. They wandered out on thier own."
Adler: "Well...that was annoying."
EMP: Brian nodded. "How did they get in?"
Storyteller: "One of the doors was broken by a fire. They got in through the open doorway."
EMP: The Obrimos turned to the Piercing Arrow. "Do you vish for a valking aid, frere?" Brian offered his staff.
Storyteller: The Piercing Arrow declines your generous offer.
Storyteller: "It's not so bad that I need an aid."
Storyteller: Having gotten all the reports, the Pentacle Man dismisses the others, and says that next meeting will be in a week, unless something happens.
EMP: "A veek, then."
Adler: "I should go deliver this information..."
Peter: Peter walked out and shuffled home
Adler: Adler heads to the Athenaeum
Storyteller: You find it easily enough. When you get in, it's slightly disarrayed, as everyone there is trying to catalogue and place the influx of new books, and papers, and information in general.
Adler: She grimaces and starts looking for one of the higher-ranking folks
Storyteller: It might be the person on top of a ladder, yelling orders to the people below, but you could be wrong in thinking that.
Storyteller: One of the people scurrying around on the ground almost bumps into you, apologises and then gets more books.
Adler: "Excuse me...I just got here from the Consilium meeting..."
Storyteller: The person stops. "There was a meeting?" it almost squeaks.
Storyteller: Who ever this is, seems to be almost hyperventilating.
Adler: "Yes. I've got a list of attendees and a few confiimations of deaths..." Adler trails off
Storyteller: Still on the path to hyperventilation. Don't suppose that you have a paper bag on you?
Adler: "Sheesh, calm down."
Storyteller: The person calms down a bit. A voice from the ladder yells "OI! SUSAN! GET BACK TO WORK!"
Storyteller: Said Susan scurries off, still breathing a bit too fast.
Adler: Adler walks toward the guy on the ladder, "Oi"
Storyteller: "WHAT DID YOU SAY? SPEAK UP, I CAN'T HEAR YOU!
Adler: "JUST IN FROM THE CONSILIUM MEETING"
Storyteller: "WAIT, LET ME GET DOWN THERE."
Storyteller: The person in question scrambles down the ladder.
Storyteller: "Did the messanger not make it there or something?"
Adler: "Which one?"
Storyteller: "... Nervous, small guy. Not reall that impressive, forgettable. Has problems under pressure/stress."
Storyteller: "I think he has brown hair."
Adler: "Yes, yes he did."
Storyteller: "Ok, he has a list of the people here."
Storyteller: "So, we should all be counted as alive."
Storyteller: "Did something go wrong?"
Storyteller: The woman tilts her head to one side, waiting nervously for an answer.
Adler: "Not perticularly, though it looks like the others are in about as much disarray as we are."
Storyteller: "That's to be expected. If they weren't it'd be suspicious."
Adler: "True
Adler: "
Storyteller: "So, why're you here?"
Adler: "There was...one thing. Ah...maybe we should go somewhere where we won't distract people?"
Storyteller: "Follow me" she waves you to a cramped 'office' in the far back.
Adler: Adler follows along
Storyteller: The little 'office' is small, cramped, and smells far too strongly of coffee.
Storyteller: "So, what is it?"
Adler: "Rhodes
Adler: :
Storyteller: "..." Stare" What did you want to know about her?"
Adler: "What we're planning on doing when she shows up."
Adler: "Along with her pumpkin heads."
Peter: ((BBS))
Storyteller: "Break out the silenced guns and napalm for the pumpkin heads. Try to get any books of hers that we can, preferably without her knowing."
Adler: "Reasonable. They announced that she was on the way at the meeting."
Storyteller: "Crap. Do you know how to make napalm?"
Adler: "Not a clue. Ask an Arrow."
Storyteller: "We have some books here on how to make home made napalm. I'll get a copy to you, asap.
Adler: "...eheh..." Adler looks slightly disturbed, "One of my cabalmates is a master of Forces...I'd rather rely on him. Much more...controled, if you get my meaning."
Storyteller: "You have a safe address to deliver it to?"
Storyteller: "Yeah, but napalm works better on the ones that are magically resistant.
Adler: "True." Adler decides not to mention the boomstick, "Might as well know. It could come in handy."
Storyteller: "Good. We really can't afford to lose too many more people."
Adler: "No kidding..." Adler sighs, "I'll leave it to you to break the news to the others."
Storyteller: "Ok. The book you want should be in stack 4-e, so get it one on the way out."
Adler: "Will do. Anything else?"
Storyteller: "Well, if you could, get one of the org sheets, so that you can put things into the right stacks when you bring them in."
Adler: "Will do."
EMP: Brian gave a small sneeze. If he were superstitious, he'd think someone was talking about him.
EMP: But that's not superstition. That's just paranoia.
Storyteller: Then you overhear some chattering about Russians.
EMP: Brian turned and looked. "Vat about Russians?"
Storyteller: "Got a drink called a White Russian." a dishevelled looking guy answers.
EMP: "...ist good."
Adler: Adler snags the stuff on her way out, back to the tower."
Storyteller: The same guy says "Svdreigailof, or soemthing like that, he's got some of the best stuff in town."
EMP: "Svdreigailof? Interesting. I might have to look him up sometime."
Storyteller: The meeting has largely dispersed.
EMP: Brian looked around the room. His cabalmates had either gone their own ways, or were with their own people.
EMP: That's when he felt "The Thirst". It was inherent in all russians. The need for a good stiff drink.
EMP: "Perhaps I should give this...Svdregailof a visit."
Peter: ((Back n.n))
Storyteller: (WB.)
Storyteller: From the dissheveled man, you get that he's a dock rat, and that he frequents the T-head around 8 PM.
Peter: When Adler returned to the tower, Peter was laying face-down on the cot
Adler: "Hey Peter....how are you doing?"
Peter: "Just feeling dumb, can I not go to that next time?"
Adler: She sits down on the edge of the cot next to him, "I suppose..."
Peter: "It's not like most people even know I exist." He sighed and rolled over a bit. "I went and I worked for Rhodes' student, and I didn't even know it, and then I told the guy who told me that I thought he was just making things up, and then I come back and find out about the big scare about Rhodes, so I just feel like a giant idiot"
EMP: Brian made a beeline for the docks, Equan keeping an eye high above. Partly because Brian didn't want claw marks in the new robe.
EMP: The Thirst was getting stronger, and he didn't much care for it.
Storyteller: It's a bit early, but Equan sees somebody that matches the description of Svdregailof lounging near the end of the T-head.
EMP: Brian was careful with his spearstaff, making sure the point remained down near the ground, so as to not seem hostile. A large Russian man with a spear very rarely looked friendly.
Storyteller: Yeah, the man smells very strongly of a mix of alcoholic drinks.
Storyteller: This is him.
EMP: Brian walked up to him. "Sir Svdregailof?"
Storyteller: "Yeah?" he asks without turning around.
Peter: "Besides, it's not like I do anything besides sit there. Everyone just goes around and does things with their orders"
EMP: "I've heard good things of your drink. I'm a bit dry as of late. Happen to have anythink?"
Storyteller: "Well, I just got some agave tequila, and I still have some vintage vodka around. You have something else in mind." There's a very, very light accent on his words.
EMP: "Vodka vill do. Is it strong?"
Storyteller: "Yes, very strong."
EMP: "Then it vill be perfect. How much?"
Storyteller: "Who refered you?"
EMP: "A friend of a friend of a friend. Disheveled lookink. Said you had the best stuff in town."
Storyteller: "Ah. He do this at an 'official' function?"
EMP: "Not a grand announcement. But at a...meeting."
Storyteller: "Ah. You any good on the attack?"
EMP: "On the attack?"
Storyteller: "Yeah. Good at fighting."
Adler: Adler sighs and rubs Peter's shoulder, "M'sorry..."
EMP: "Let's just say, I didn't buy these furs."
Storyteller: "Ah. Well, I have an offer for you. Some wannabe Mafia vamps took over one of my brewing places. Get them out of there, and I'll give you plenty to drink."
EMP: Brian nodded. A steady flow of strong liquor? Like gold to a European man. "Sounds like a fun time. Any electronicks in your still you vant safe? I have a...bad vay vith electronicks."
Storyteller: "Not really. The vamps did a good job of trashing the place when they ran me out."
Storyteller: "Anything that's still working is just gravy."
EMP: "Ahhh...interestink. Fine. I accept. Just point a direction, and be sure not to valk that vay."
Storyteller: "It's just a little out on Farm Road 55. Second place past the first Farm Road sign."
EMP: Brian nodded. "I vill return in a vhile. I vill expect...the very good stuff."
Storyteller: "You get the place back, and it'll be really good stuff."
EMP: The Obrimos gave a cluck of his tongue, calling down Equan from the sky. He whispered into the hawk's ear, then let the familiar fly off in the direction of the tower.
Peter: (Soooo....)
Storyteller: The hawk arrives with the message?
EMP: ((It should))
EMP: ((
Peter's not in OOC, so she's not able to see.))
Storyteller: The hawk arrives with the message.
Storyteller: (Wow. Totally did not notice that.)
Peter: ((Wow, neither did I x.x))
Storyteller: (It's times like this that I debate having a non fractional perception.
Storyteller: The hawk has scratched out Second House, Farm Road 55.
Peter: Peter turned to Adler. "I'll see you later." With that, he tossed on a dash of Fairy Dust and headed off
Peter: !ex 2 Plentimon:
Peter (2), 5, 10, Successes : 2
Peter: !ex 1 Plentimon:
Peter (1), 10, Successes : 2
Peter: !ex 1 Plentimon:
Peter (1), 9, Successes : 1
Storyteller: 3 successes.
EMP: Brian eventually arrived at the till, waiting in the darkness outside for Peter to arrive.
Peter: Peter floated down out of the sky, wooden knife already drawn
Adler: "...oook..."
EMP: Brian looked up. "Don't be so obvious. You vant them to shoot you down?"
Peter: "Gee, maybe I'll drive here next time, oh, that's right, no car and no driver's license."
EMP: "Learn to use clouds and to not descend vhere vampires can see you."
Peter: "Is this a lecture, or are we killing vampires?"
EMP: "Both. Have you ever hunted vampires before?"
Peter: "No, but it seems like a simple process. Option 1: Hit it until it can't move anymore. Option 2: Instert Stake A into Heart B."
EMP: "Yes, and I suppose Garlic keeps them from biting your neck, too?" Brian scratched a circle around his body with his spear, the keys and jewelry hanging from the staff clinking in unison.
Peter: "Presumably so"
EMP: "...you may hit yourself at your nearest convenience." The circle was completed, Brian standing in the very center.
EMP: "Vampires are not as easy to kill as the storybooks say. If they vere, ve vould have eradicated them by now. Thankfully, these sound to be new vuns, yes."
Adler: "...Oh, damnit..." Adler grimaces and scoops a few hairs off of Peter's pillow, chanting for a moment and concentrating.
Adler: !ex 3 Plentimon:
Adler (3), 5, 9, 4, Successes : 1
EMP: "Vhat ve vill do is distract them, and hopefully injure any standing guard behind door. Then, ve go in. You, stay near my back. They can be fast, and I don't vant a knife in my kavitches."
Peter: "Alright."
Adler: "...well, fuck. DAMN IT YOU IDIOTS." Adler grabs her coat on the way out of the door
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 4
Peter: roll 5#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 1, 2, 5, 2, 6
EMP: Brian grinned as the words tumbled from his lips, the strange ancient language that he barely understood. But...it felt good. And right. Gaia was watching over him this night as he spoke the words with all the power he could muster, forcefully opening a path for the magic to enter this world with his own soul.
EMP: roll 16#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 9, 8, 3, 9, 9, 8, 1, 3, 1, 2, 6, 9, 9, 10, 6, 2
EMP: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 3
Storyteller: The lightning flows from you, bursts the door like an overripened melon, and you hear a short scream of agony from inside.
EMP: Brian smiled. "Come, young vun! Ve rush." When Brian ran, it was low and quick, like someone used to infiltrating buildings after the door had been blown down.
Peter: Peter followed after, moving more upright than Brian did, not moving his full pace so that he remained behind the Russian, knife gripped tightly
Storyteller: Inside, the place is still pretty trashed. Moreso now that you blew the door in.
Storyteller: Three guys are lounging around, faces showing varying degrees of WTF.
EMP: Brian looked around at each of them. "...I am EMP. You may run. If not, then die. I care little for vhich you choose."
Storyteller: One of them stands up "Aye man, you don mess with us! I'm gonna cut you so bad, you wish I don't cut you so bad, ese!" and lunges at EMP with a knife.
Storyteller: Roll 3#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 4, 2, 9
Peter: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 3
EMP: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 4
Storyteller: One of the vamps goes and dives behind a couch, he's looking for something.
Storyteller: brb restroom.
Peter: Peter moved ahead of Brian, holding his knife out defensively as he grinned. "Come on boys, think you can hit me?"
EMP: Brian turns to the one running at him with a knife. "..." His arm swept out, revealing the shotgun underneath up and ready to fire. "Mine ist bigger."
EMP: roll 4#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 3, 9, 7, 5
Storyteller: Mr. I cut you doesn't seem to care much about your gun.
Storyteller: He takes a slice at you.
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 5
Storyteller: And fails, miserably.
Storyteller: He blinks a bit, as he realizes that he's forgetting one important thing.
Storyteller: The knife.
Storyteller: "I'm gonna kill you," the other guy yells.
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 7
Storyteller: He rushes up to you, and nearly falls over trying to avoid your knife.
Storyteller: Really, they look a bit drunk, to you guys.
Adler: Adler sighs. "Goddamnit, I can't leave the tower right now."
Adler: And runs back
Storyteller: The guy behind the couch has apparently found what he's looking for, and you guys hear a loud bang!
Storyteller: And then the sound of something falling.
Peter: He sighed a little. "Pathetic." He took a slice at the guy
Peter: roll 5#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 6, 8, 1, 2, 7
Peter: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 3
Storyteller: Peter's knife hits the guy soundly in the arm. That's going to leave a bruise tomorrow.
Storyteller: Mr. Cut you tries to kick Brian in the face.
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 7
Storyteller: He had just as much luck with the kick as he did with the slicing.
Storyteller: He would have hit Brian right in the face, if he were standing about a foot closer.
EMP: Brian let out a saddened sigh, the shotgun back on his leg. "...vhat a vaste. I could leave now, and simply let the Elder Vampires erase you. But, I've a job.." Brian's spear staff went up, the pointed rustic iron edge digging toward the assaulting vampire's chest.
EMP: roll 4#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 4, 6, 1, 4
Storyteller: The point goes about a hair's breadth away from actually hitting anything.
Storyteller: It does, however, make a nice puncture in a low hanging tube.
Storyteller: The other big, dumb mook goes and tries to pummel Peter.
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 3
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 10
Storyteller: And he misses like the drunken boxer that he is.
Storyteller: Whoosh, goes the air.
Storyteller: Crash, goes the chair that he smacked.
Peter: Once more, Peter went at him with the knife
Adler: Adler opens another scrying window, with some more chanting
Adler: !ex 4 Plentimon:
Adler (4), 6, 8, 10, 4, Successes : 3
Peter: roll 5#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 3, 7, 5, 7, 3
Adler: !ex 1 Plentimon:
Adler (1), 6, Successes : 0
Storyteller: Adler opens the scrying window. Peter gives the BDB another nasty bruise.
EMP: Brian frowned, deep creases showing in his face. He didn't like it when his spear missed. Not one bit.
EMP: roll 4#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 7, 1, 6, 1
Storyteller: And in the duel between I cut you, ese and I fry you, EMP has drawn the first blood.
Storyteller: Little slice, right into the side of the arm.
Adler: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Adler rolled --> 3
Storyteller: Mr. Cut you decides to go and shoot EMP with the gun that he's all but forgotten.
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 8
Adler: Adler begins chanting in Atlantian, building up the structure of a blessing and drawing on the ambient mana to reinforce it with the ability to leap across the illusion of distance.
Storyteller: Brian, you get a rather painful shot to your left arm.
Storyteller: Mr. Boxer goes and decides to try another punch, this one a haymaker.
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 3
Storyteller: Still, he's got the luck of those that invade Russia in the winter, and fails almost comically, hitting a large still.
Peter: n, why are we fighting these guys?"
Peter: ^"Brian, why are we fighting these guys?"
Peter: He took another jab at the boxer
Peter: roll 5#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 9, 7, 3, 2, 8
Peter: roll 2#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 1, 5
Storyteller: The bruises are really starting to cach up to Mr. Boxer.
EMP: "Because they oneday may be a threat."
Storyteller: He looks like he's going to be out in a bit.
EMP: The keys and jewelry vibrated on Brian's staff. "Enough. You die, NOW."
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 3
EMP: roll 11#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 4, 6, 9, 6, 10, 2, 4, 5, 6, 9, 9
EMP: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 8
Storyteller: The slightly smokey vamp falls to the ground, and wonders just what the hell hit him. Well, he would if he was in a state to say anything.
Adler: roll 6#1d10 Plentimon:
Adler rolled --> 3, 10, 8, 8, 1, 10
Adler: roll 2#1d10 Plentimon:
Adler rolled --> 6, 4
Adler: Adler releases the spell and sends it speeding along the threads of fate, and Peter can feel it as it settles on him gently, with a familiar touch...and a slight swat on the head.
Storyteller: Mr. Boxer boggles at the sudden lightning.
Storyteller: He then tries to punch out Brian, having had no luck with Peter.
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 9
Storyteller: A swing and a miss. Not-so-mighty Casy has probably struck out.
Peter: He shook his head as without missing a beat, he turned to follow the guy he'd been fighting, pomelling him on the back of the head
Peter: roll 5#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 8, 2, 8, 7, 3
Storyteller: And he falls down, like a felled tree.
Storyteller: Crash.
Storyteller: Booze flows from whatever it is he broke during his fall.
Peter: "Honestly, let's just tie them up and drop them in a dumpster with the lid shut."
Peter: "These guys aren't a threat."
Storyteller: Make a perception roll.
Peter: roll 8#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 9, 8, 7, 3, 4, 10, 10, 5
Peter: roll 3#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 5, 10, 9
Peter: roll 2#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 8, 8
EMP: roll 4#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 1, 5, 7, 10
EMP: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 5
Storyteller: Brian, you notice the vamp behind the couch spring up, from seemingly nowhere. Peter, you not only see it, but you smell the booze on him.
Storyteller: "OBEY!" He shouts.
EMP: roll 3#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 1, 8, 9
Peter: "Come on guy, you're toasted, just stand down and come with us."
Storyteller: Roll 3#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 10, 8, 2
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 4
Peter: "Alright, we'll play by your rules."
Peter: Peter ran up to jab at him with the knife
Peter: roll 6#1d10 Plentimon:
Peter rolled --> 3, 8, 3, 8, 3, 3
EMP: Brian was a bit...perturbed at that. He didn't like things trying to get into his mind. He didn't like it at all.
EMP: His spear went up, thrusting forward with his momentum at the vampire's heart.
EMP: roll 5#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 4, 10, 9, 10, 10
EMP: roll 3#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 3, 1, 10
EMP: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 10
EMP: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 8
Storyteller: The vamp goes limp as your spear finds a way right into his heart.
Storyteller: He's got the most comical look of shock on his face.
Storyteller: As if his last thought was "NO! THIS CAN NOT BE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
EMP: "Kheyerle kis, vampire."
EMP: The obrimos pulled his spear from the vampire's chest, wiping the blood on the couch.
Peter: "See ya" Peter headed back outside with that and took a very tall leap into the clouds, leaving Brian to clean up
EMP: Brian looked about, shrugged, and left the building, walking in the direction of the pier.
Storyteller: Peter gets back to the tower before Brian gets to the docks.
EMP: Whenever Brian arrives at the docks, he heads for the t-head where the alesman should have still remained.
Storyteller: Brian, at the docks you see Svdreigailof.
Storyteller: He's a bit red in the face, but sober.
Storyteller: Ish.
EMP: The russian raises his hand, waving Svdreigailof over.
Storyteller: He's not too drunk to do business, so he staggers over to you.
EMP: "Your infestation, is handled. Vith the building still intact, too."
Storyteller: "Thank you. I already have something ready for you.
Storyteller: "Follow me."
EMP: Brian followed after him, his staff still a bit bloody, but clinking nonetheless.
Storyteller: He walks over to the back entrance to the restraunt Landry's.
Peter: Peter landed on the balcony and jaunted back inside, dropping his pouch of Fairy Dust on the table as usual
EMP: Brian followed casually, smelling the restraunt cooking.
Storyteller: He goes in, then comes back with three bottles.
Storyteller: "This is some very good stuff."
EMP: Brian took one of the bottles, sniffing the neck.
Storyteller: It smells like it was hidden with some shimp.
Storyteller: However, it's still unopened.
Storyteller: (note, that should read shrimp.)
EMP: He cracked open the top, taking a sip of the drink inside.
Storyteller: It's old vodka. Nice and strong.
Storyteller: It's probably older than you are.
EMP: He felt the deep warmth go down his throat. "Yessss...that ist the good stuff."
Adler: "You...you...pighead! Dope! Absolutly frustrating prick!" Adler grabs Peter by his shoulders.
Storyteller: "Isn't it? Isn't it?" he crows gleefully."
Peter: Peter's eyes went wide as he felt like he was about to be shaken. "What did I do?" He seemed a bit paniced
EMP: Brian grins and nods back. "This...this is like home." He took another drink, feeling it warm his chest.
Storyteller: "So, tell me, how bad was the damage?"
Adler: "You went to go brawl with a bunch of vampires and left me here alone!"
EMP: Brian shrugged. "A little vear and tear. A pipe got punctured, but othervise, not much collateral damage."
Storyteller: "Ah good. Especially if the suff in the cellar is fine too."
Peter: "Ummm....I'd have stayed with you if I could be in two places at once?"
EMP: "A cellar. Ve saw only three vampires. Never even vent into a cellar."
Storyteller: "Hrm. Interesting. Two of them ran me out, and I didn't get to take anything out of the cellar, sadly."
EMP: Brian gave another shrug, the alcohol making him feel tingly inside. "Vell, ve didn't touch the cellar. So vhatever is broken, can't blame me."
Storyteller: "Fair enough. I'll make my way back, and see."
Adler: "Argh! Stop thinking like a...like a... like a seixist prick!" Adler gives him a little shake, "You could have at least asked me to come along! I could have helped, instead of being stuck here worrying about you!"
Adler: "You...you dope," She trails off, and buries her head against his neck, her grip turning into a tight hug
Peter: "Why worry? I'm fast on my feet and I know what I'm doing, I've got Time armor, and I can move even faster with a pinch of fiary dust. I set the whoel thing up this morning to last all day. Not to mention I can just fly away if it gets serious." He saw her start turning form angry to...sad? He returned her hug. "Besides, you're good at thinking, you can leave the fighting to me and the guys. It's not liek there's much e
Adler: "Argh...you're impossible."
Peter: "What?"
Adler: "Just...Shut up." Adler mutters before shifting her hands up to grab his head and pull him into a kiss
Peter: Peter's eyes went wide as hsi brain tried to figure out what to do. As it scanned it's limited experience, it found no answer, so it made the only logical inference it could. Based on nothing, the answer was nothing. And with that, Peter's whole body promptly went limp
Adler: "Whaa...GAH" Adler manages to direct Peter in the direction of his cot and land him on there...pretty much correctly, though its a bit of an effort.
Adler: "Hmm...THAT didn't work right..."
Storyteller: Roll 10#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 8, 9, 5, 1, 1, 8, 2, 10, 1, 2
Storyteller: Roll 11#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 5, 3, 2, 9, 4, 9, 1, 5, 5, 6, 5
Storyteller: Roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
Storyteller rolled --> 1
EMP: roll 4#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 9, 5, 10, 7
EMP: roll 1#1d10 Plentimon:
EMP rolled --> 2
EMP: Brian took another drink from his bottle, shrugging off the feeling.
Adler: Adler ponders the situation for a moment.
Adler: She goes to grab a book, and sits down with her legs hooked over Peter and her back against the wall that the cot sits adjacent to