What lies beneath.... II [IC]

[FullPlateJacket]

"Stay away from that wall - that thing might come out again at any time!" Claus yells, continuing to fire his shotgun into the swarm. He keeps his guard up, preparing for any more attacks by whatever is in the walls - or something from any other direction, for that matter.

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Attack: (1d100)[40] vs. 95
Awareness: (1d100)[88] vs. 75 or 85

[crazedloon]

Castus

Castus sidesteps barely in time once more. The front of his robes get caught by the creatures and his chest nearly gets revealed. He sheaths the pistol as his mechadendrites swat creatures away. His hand plunges into his bag and pulls out a mine. He flicks a few switches and pulls a cord.

By the will of the Omnissiah you shall all die.

He tosses the mine into the large group mass where the bio sensors immediately trigger.

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toss - (1d100)[14] vs 40+30 point blank+ size
damage - (4d10)[10][10][3][8](31) X damage pen 8

[Saldre]

Everybody:

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The mine beeps frantically as waves of creatures crawl of it, absorbing it into their folds and muffling the cries of the explosive's triggering alarm.

In an instant, the swarm seems to expand and a bright flash of light fills the chamber, immediately followed by a the muffled sound of an explosion. The ground and the ceiling both shake, but the swarm has absorbed the power behind the blast.

The creature's gory remains are splattered all over the walls and the acolytes, their numbers now clearly finite- though still hulking, the swarm has been reduced to a fraction of its former strength.

Just as he threw the mine, four claws dropped down from the ceiling over Castus's head- attempting to grab him and pull him. But the blast pushed him back against the wall and the claws close on the air, missing their target before retracting back instantly into a tunnel.

The remaining creatures in the swarm surround your ankles, a last ditch attempt to bring down one of you before being wiped out.

[FullPlateJacket]

"Nice work, now to clean up these buggers!" Claus says in thanks to Castus, firing off what is hopefully a final shot into the swarm.

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Attack roll:(1d100)[30] vs. 95

[Saldre]

Everybody:

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Claus's perfect aim blasts away the remaining critters, clearing the room of the swarm.

Only the remnants of the blast still ringing in your ears fill the cave now, as tiny limbs and gory splatters twitch slightly and die off around you.

As the final gun shots illuminate the cave, you realize your not quite safe yet: from the other side of the cave, several large shadows cast onto the walls seem to move closer and faster, moments away from entering...

[OOC: You have a round to reload your weapons if you'd like, or do anything else, before these things enter the room... On a side note, I hope your keeping track of your Ammunition!]

[crazedloon]

Castus

Castus adjusts his mechadendrite and focuses on the shadows searching for the sources as his hands move automatically switching out the old canister for a new one. He gives himself a good meter and a half from the wall to allow him a little reaction time to dodge the claws which have been appearing. His medicae mechadendrite attends to the lacerations across his leg and chest sewing skin and robes back together as they move quickly.

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awareness - (1d100)[48] vs 75/85 reroll - (1d100)[50]

[Saldre]

Juron:

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You wake up with a painful headache. Your entire body is throbbing from the strain of your strenuous journey. Your arms hurt, and you're limbs feel stretched and exhausted.

It takes you but a single moment to realize why. As you attempt to move, you realize you have been chained: you find yourself hanging, yours arms straight up in the air, tied to metal chain and hook attached over your head. Iron manacles similarly keep your feet bound to handles dug into the ground.

Though there is a light-bulb glowing above you, the entire room is mostly plunged in darkness. On a nearby table placed in the circle of light, you recognize- neatly laid out in-front of you, the contents of your extruciator kit.

As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you spot several figures standing perfectly still around you- their eyes unflinching as they stare at you.

Soon, a figure steps into your line of sight.

Tall (despite his stooping) and powerfully built, he has thin, scraggly blond hair and a flat nose. His bulging eyes, seemingly hypnotic, inevitably remind you of Nihilius's.

"Welcome home"- He says, and smiles.

[Talkkno]

"You think you are going to use that thing on me? Hah, Juron says as he spits in the face of his captor, knocking on the wall behind, trying to gauge its depth and material from the sound it makes.

[Saldre]

Juron:

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You attempt to throw yourself against the walls, only to find your chains too short: clearly your captors intended for you to remain as still as possible.

The man moves his hand to his face, wiping off the spittle.

"I was hoping you would something like that, Arbitrator Juron." He says, then walks to the small table and the kit.

"The old man wanted to handle this little session himself..." He continues, picking up a small scalpel.

"But his way isn't as enjoyable... its over too quickly... it lacks... refinement?" He muses as he places it back down and reaches for a thumbscrew.

"I already know almost everything I need to know about your little friends... I just need to fill in... a few more details... you see..." He continues, putting it back on the table. He then reaches for a small claw like object, you immediately recognize as an "Inquisition Tickler"- designed to rip flesh off various body-parts.

"Save yourself the trouble- In a day or two, were going to be great friends."

[Talkkno]

"You know the Inquisition frowns on using physical torture? I'm sad that's going to be first thing your going to use against me, that just shows how unskilled you really are. Juron retorts back, as he attempts to force a measure of force around himself, focusing his mind to shatter his crude restraints.

Willpower test: Catch Projectiles(1d100)[31]
Force bolt(1d100)[38]


Damage: (1d10+4)[10]

[Saldre]

Juron:

"Arbitrator Juron... I am not the Inquisition..." He says with a snicker.

"Let's begin then, shall we? A few basics first: What brings you and your friends to my town? Once you answer that, you can tell me everything about them- how many of them there are, who's the leader of the group... who do you hate the most... who do you like the most... who carries the biggest gun... what are they equipped to handle? And anything You can think of that you think I should know..."

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(1d100)[17]

[Talkkno]

"Its too late, the Angels of Death will mete out justice here, while I earn a seat by the Golden Throne." Juron spits back, as he attempts to focus his energies once more to shatter his chains.

Decive (1d100)[25]

Willpower: (1d100)[54]

Damage: (1d10+4)[7]

Physic phemona (1d100)[47]

[Saldre]

Juron:

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"I thought you you would last a bit more then that... I haven't even done anything yet..." He croaks. He reaches down for a specter-like stick...

"Its too late? That doesn't answer my questions... do you have anything to say, or is it just an empty threat?" He asks.

[Lycan 01]

Ralix quickly ejects the clip from his bolt pistol, and slips it into his robe. He then pulls out a new clip and slaps it into the weapon, only to place the weapon back in his robes. He then draws his plasma pistol. "I think we need more firepower..." he quips, gripping the weapon with both hands and leveling it with the darkness where the attacks came from. A familiar electrical whine fills the air as the power coil charges up, and the red laser of the gun's sight scans the shadows for a target. "Ave Impirator..." he mutters, focusing his attention down the barrel of the gunsight. "Luceat lux vestra. Lux tua nos ducat. Lucem sequimur..."

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Reloading, switching weapons...

Oh, and it means: "Hail the Emperor. Let your Light shine. Your Light guides us. We follow the Light..." Or close enough.

[Talkkno]

"The Emperor Protects, heretic. And he provides for them quite well! Juron says, shattering the chains that bind him

Willpower: (1d100)[7]
Damage: (1d10+4)[14]

[Saldre]

The chains break apart and the lamp above them shatters instantly, pushed by the strength of the mental-push.

As you stare into the darkness ahead of you, you see the Chief constable's eyes glowing in the darkness.

"Arbitrator Juron... It seems you're not as well versed... as I had believed you to be."

He swings the scepter-like object towards you. As it contacts your skin, you feel it burn as it lets loose a gush of boiling water...

[Talkkno]

Juron dodges the foul spector, focusing his mental prowess in shattering the only light source in the room, wrapping himself in the darkness (Use Chamleon)

Willpower (1d100)[23]

Damage: (1d10+4)[9]

[Saldre]

Juron:

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The light having already been shattered, you send a pulse of energy into the ceiling- it holds firmly though, resisting damage.

Footsteps echo around the room as several people rush to grab you. The Chief Constable swings his weapon again.

[Saldre]

Juron:

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The room fades to (further) black as the Constable's swing strikes your stomach- you feel the scorching wound burn as you tumble on the ground...

... and fall out of the rotten hay-stack that moments ago served as you bed.

As you regain consciousness, and your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can tell your in a jail cell.

There is a large wound on your stomach, no doubt acquired at the bridge, but otherwise you seem physical fine: you have a splitting headache though.

You hear movement from behind the wall to your right.

"I'a k'nark Cthulhu! I'a! I'a! Restlessly he sleeps at his house at R'lyeh! I'a! I'a! Cthulhu fhtagn!" A frantic voice cries out.

[Talkkno]

Juron knocks on the wall, and puts his ear to it, to try to gauge its depth.

Awareness +20 (1d100)[5]

[Bowerbird]

"Let them come!" Ravion growls, wiping the residue of swarm bug from his boots. He draws his weapons and assumes a ready stance, awaiting the oncoming horde.

[FullPlateJacket]

"I guess it's time for the ol' standby..." Claus mutters while exchanging his Spectre for his Nomad. He aims the barrel at the other side of the room, preparing to fire a shot at the first thing that enters.

[Saldre]

Everybody at the caves-

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Moments after the swarm is dispersed, the creatures at the other end of the cave abandon all measures of stealth.

They stampede into the room, climbing on walls and ceilings as they charge towards you at incredible speed- leaping over the various holes and obstacles in their way.

Almost instantly, the first of the monstrous group lands In-front of you with a thud, cracking the ground beneath it.

The creatures towers over you: at a staggering two meters tall, it dwarfs the other specimens you have thus far encountered.

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[OOC: A picture is worth a thousand words, and I think this one is particularly disturbing. The fact that there are at -least- two more of these things scuttling on the walls warrants a fear 2 test: these aren't the kids anymore, these are the adults... and they are clearly pissed off...

On a side note, people with guns who want to start shooting as the creatures run towards you- you can fire before you take your fear test, as you are only horrified when the creature arrives. Castus of course, is completely fearless.]

Juron:

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You lean in and top on the walls, you estimate they are about a foot thick: though they are ancient, and masonry is now rotting.

Glancing around your cell, you see nothing in particular. Strewn on a iron-grating hanging a few feet of the floor, a stack of rotten hay has been laid out as a bed and consists of the only piece of "furniture" around.

You spot a window above it. Climbing up, you can see a back alley behind the jail.

"I can hear them... hear them in the walls. Rats... rats in the walls... I hear them... so very tasty..."

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[OOC: Perception test to hear something over the ramblings of the madman in the next cell...]

[Talkkno]

Juron attempts to pear down the back alley, see if its lit, as he hears the man's moaning.
Awareness +20 (1d100)[81]

[Lycan 01]

"OH FRAKK!!" Ralix howls as he drops to his knees, looks down the length of his plasma pistol held in both hands, and fires a blast at the face of the creature leaping through the air at them.

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Zap-zap: (1d100)[21] vs BS 50 + 10 laser sight + 10 aiming + 10 Short Range - 20 Called shot = 60

[crazedloon]

Castus

Castus draws his boltgun in a flash aims at the closest of the creatures as it sprints across the ground.

By the Omnissiah's will be purged.

Than the bolter burst to life as it fires explosive bolts into the creature.

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attack - (1d100)[94] vs 40+ 20 full auto + 30 point blank + size?
damage - (1d10+5)[10]
tearing
damage - (1d10+5)[8]

damage - (1d10+5)[6]
tearing
damage - (1d10+5)[13]

damage - (1d10+5)[12]
tearing
damage - (1d10+5)[14]

damage - (1d10+5)[15]
tearing
damage - (1d10+5)[7]

[FullPlateJacket]

As the creatures rush into the room, Claus fires an armor-piercing shot at a beast's face.

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Attack roll:(1d100)[67] vs. 95, called shot to the head
Damage roll: (1d10+7)[17] pen 6

[Saldre]

Juron:

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The alley is pitch black, but it seems quiet enough- you can discern the vague outline of various wooden crates and boxes. No doubt containing trash, left to accumulate behind the station

"I feel the call inside me... it draws me to the dark ocean... I dream of Dagon... and of Hydra... I'a! I'a! Cthulhu fhtagn!"

Everybody Else:

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Ralix's plasma blast strikes one of the creatures limbs as they charge, searing some of its skin away.

Though his hit is no doubt due to luck, as even Claus has trouble hitting them, his bullet passing less then an inch from the creature's gruesome face...

Before theirs fingers are off the trigger, the creatures fall upon the group fully intent on ripping them to shreds... two of them paying special attention to the Adept who successfully landed a hit...

[Talkkno]

Juron ignores the rambelings of the mad man, as he takes a lock pick hidden from his nether regions, and begins to try to open the lock to his jail cell.

Security: (1d100)[71]

[Saldre]

Juron:

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You fiddle with the cell door trying to get it open, but unfortunately it seems steadier then you might have thought. Your almost there though, that's for sure.

Besides you, the mad man carries on.

"Out... out... deep in the abyss... beyond the Caves of the Great Conspirator it lies... lair of those who hunger!"

[OOC: Attempt another Perception Test to hear something...]