In Service: A Science Fantasy Quest

[I.F. Ister]

You're jostled from your sleepy and absentminded sketching by the appearance of Damien in your peripheral vision, his shadow falling across your pencil and sketch paper like the moon eclipsing the early-morning sun.

You lean back in your lab's chair, blinking up through eyes encrusted by sleep as he stares back down, his scruffy stubble as scraggly as ever. "Can I help you?" You half-mutter half-mumble while you're half-asleep, yawning as you do.

"We've got a case." That has you wide awake in an instant, jerking upright in your cushioned seat. You hop up to your feet and blearily accept the lightly steaming mug of 'coffee' offered by Damien. Draining the 'coffee', which is little more than caffeine drenched sludge, in one long pull––the quicker you drink it the sooner the taste is out of your mouth. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you place the mug on your desk and grab your greatcoat from the coat rack in the corner.

"What kinda case?" You ask as you slip on the heavy coat, following Damien's long strides as you do. "Any information?"

"We're heading to the briefing now, Room C. There's a consultant, a friend of mine, waiting there for us." The tall man replies as you round a corner, nearing the briefing rooms. "From what little I heard, it's something to do with a little 10-year-old kid left home alone making traps far beyond what he should be capable of."

"Capable of?" You ask, mind racing. It's possible that the kid realized a branch of super science. It happens, every once in a while, somebody somewhere stumbles across something they hadn't encountered before and it just clicks. That's one of the ways super scientists come about, the others being born with it like yourself and/or innovating in a particular branch of normal science enough that you become a super scientist. "Like, what kinda capable of are we talking here? Are we talking super science? Magic? Mutations?"

"That's what we're being sent in to figure out." Damien says as you reach Briefing Room C. He pauses at the door, hand on the latch, before adding as an afterthought, "And to do our jobs, of course, should the situation call for it."

And with that, he opens the door and the both of you enter the room.

Sitting at the head of the table is a head of greasy blonde hair casually flipping through a copy of Traps Illustrated, a scantily clad redhead pulls a switch on the cover, a caged robber looking dejected behind her. What's interesting is that the man reading the magazine seems to be, well, actually reading the articles.

He glances up as you enter, giving you a good look at his baby face and light blue eyes as you take a seat at the table. He's got a bit of grease smeared on his cheek and you notice that his hands are rough and heavily calloused. "Damien," he nods a greeting at your mentor as the tall man walks around the blond.

"Todd." Damien returns the greeting as he sits down across from you. Zerada-Kil blurs into being in the chair next to him, the little girl-like Arming Devil leans on the table with a bored look on her face. "Todd McCallister, Trap Consultant and friend of mine," Damien gestures at the now-named Todd and then directs his hand towards you, "Itzabella Williams, my mentee."

(Knowledge (Corporations) DC 65: 77, success)

McCallister… Now, why does that name ring a bell? A glimmer of memory floats up, an image of a blue placard with the words 'McCallister Home Security' planted in somebody's lawn. Oh, that's where you heard it before, well, that and that time you met one of the McCallisters at a rich person function––not a party, never a party. He was okay, a bit too obsessed with traps for your liking but, well, super scientists, what can you do?

The door opens once more and a middle-aged woman enters, a six foot scowl on her three foot body. She marches right on up to Todd, who instinctively scrambles from the seat, pulling his feet off the table in the process as she takes his spot. She wrenches the seat up and up, until she's on, roughly, equal footing with the rest of you as Todd stands off to the side. She glares at the magazine left opened on the table so hard and with such vitriol that you're half-scared that it'll ignite.

This is Senior Handler Laura Bristle, a Gnome and the lady who gives you your cases and assignments. She's a rather nice lady when she's not on the job, she even gave you a cookie once. But when she's on the job…

"We received a call from first responders requesting Service investigators to come in and take a look at a situation." Laura begins, her voice rough and gravelly from too many cigarettes. "Max Mercer, ten years old, was left home alone while the rest of his family went on vacation in Japan. The family is currently unaware of the situation. The child saw a strange car pull up in the mansion's driveway and panicked, constructing traps and defenses far beyond what a child of nine should be capable of. The people in the car, house sitters hired by the Mercers, were completely unprepared in all ways for the ordeal they were about to face. Mrs Pam McKenzie, wife of Mr Jeff McKenzie, sent a frantic call to the local police department who then called us. Max Mercer is still holed up in the mansion and has not yet communicated with the outside. Both McKenzies, while injured and traumatized, are still alive thanks to luck and quick thinking on their part. Your assignment is to determine how Max Mercer built these traps." She finishes, laying the folder on the table. "The layout of the Mercer Mansion is currently unknown, the Mercers' refused to give up the current blueprints after remodeling their home and diviners are not turning much up." You grimace, that's not good. "Mr McCallister here will assist you in dealing with the traps you encounter."

"Any questions?" Senior Handler Laura Bristle finishes speaking, her fingers laced before her.

Do you have any?
[ ] Write in, as many as you want

~~~~~~~

After the briefing, you and Damien stop off at the Armory, where Tim stands waiting with Damien's loadout ready for him.

You turn towards the Armory, thinking about what to bring with you.

"I recommend you bring some of your creations with you, a can of MSB 10 and the Infragoggles at least, perhaps a magazine or two of the Cutter Rounds, just in case things get real ugly." Damien comments as he's sliding a hefty-looking pistol into his shoulder holster and a trio of magazines on his waist.

"Probably should." You respond, making selections.

What do you choose?
[ ] Damien's Recommendation (Service Pistol, Service Knife, Handcuffs, Investigation Equipment, Lockpicks, Rubber Gloves, Evidence Baggies, One MSB 10 Can, Infragoggles, Cutter Rounds)

Or you can customize and build your own here. Same capacity as last time, save for you being able to store whatever you want in Damien's car (within reason, of course).

Spoiler: Equipment Options (Please vote by plan)

Explosives
[ ] AP Grenade (2 Piercing Damage, Strips Armor, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Fragmentation Grenade (7 Piercing Damage, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Flashbang (Blinds+Deafens, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Smoke Grenade (Obscures, Thrown, Small Item)
-[ ] Incense Grenade (Obscures, Holy, Thrown, Small Item)
-[ ] Tear Gas Grenade (Blinds+Chokes+Obscures, Thrown, Small Item)
-[ ] Iron Shavings Grenade (Obscures, Damages Fey, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Holy Water Grenade (Holy, Splashes, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Breaching Charge (12 Explosion Damage, Opens locked doors/walls/floors/ceilings, Planted, Small Item)

Ranged Weapons
[ ] Service Pistol (3 Piercing Damage, AP 1, Ranged, 1/2 Hands, Small Item)
[ ] Service Revolver (4 Piercing Damage, AP 2, Close-Ranged, 1/2 Hands, Small Item)
[ ] Service Carbine (4 Piercing Damage, AP 2, Repeating 1, Ranged, 2 Hands, Medium Item)
[ ] Service Shotgun (5 Piercing Damage, AP 2, Close-Ranged, 2 Hands, Medium Item)
[ ] Service Rifle (6 Piercing Damage, AP 3, Long-Ranged, Slow-Firing, 2 Hands, Medium-Large Item)
[ ] Service LMG (5 Piercing Damage, AP 2, Repeating 3, Ranged, 2 Hands, Heavy, Medium-Large Item)
[ ] Service SMG (3 Piercing Damage, AP 1, Repeating 2, Ranged, 2 Hands, Medium Item)

Melee Weapons
[ ] Service Knife (3 Slashing/Stabbing Damage, Melee, Concealable, 1 Hand, Small Item)
[ ] Service Baton (3 Bludgeoning Damage, Melee, Concealable, 1/2 Hands, Small Item)

Tools
[ ] Handcuffs (Restraining, Anti-Magic, Tiny Item)
[ ] Investigation Equipment (Allows for closer inspection than what may be possible normally, Tiny Item)
[ ] Prybar (Allows for forcing open locks or jammed things, Medium Item)
[ ] Lockpicks (Allows picking of locks, Tiny Item)
[ ] Rubber Gloves (Sterile, Tiny Item)
[ ] Evidence Baggies (Sterile, 6 Uses, Anti-Magic, Small Item)
[ ] Ammo Pouch (Can be spent to reload a gun on a critical fail, Tiny Item)
[ ] Big Ammo Pouch (Can be spent to reload a gun on a critical fail, 3 Uses, Small Item)

Personal
[ ] Write in (Pick from your Creations)

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: And here we go, your first case as an actual agent of the S3. Let's see how you do! Like always, voting will be called tomorrow at 6 PM CST. Thanks for reading!

 

[I.F. Ister]

"What are the occupations of the rest of the Mercers? The ones of working age at least." You offer as a question, several more circulating in the back of your head.

"The vast majority of them have senior or top-level positions in Mercer Financial, an investment company. The rest are in Mercer Security, a minor security provider for homes and competitor of my own family's company." Todd McCallister answers from his position by the wall, arms folded over and under the other. Laura nods, gesturing for you to continue.

"That's not going to get in the way, right Todd?" Damien speaks up, a narrowed look on his face as he looks at the blond. "Conflicting interests and all that."

Todd waves his hand, as if he were some great king dismissing the idea. "Of course not. Who do you take me for, a Baxter? Even if the Mercers are dicks they don't deserve a dead kid."

"Thought so, just wanted to make sure" Damien nods, accepting it and turning back as you continue your questions.

"Hobbies? Any we know of?" You ask and Laura sighs, flicking her hand towards Todd, who answers it as well.

"Never met this Max, or most of the family for that matter, but I know his parents. I went to highschool with his dad, Mike. He's a smart guy, wicked smart, but he never realized a field of super science and a developed something of a complex around super scientists cause of it. Last I spoke with the guy he hadn't changed much and didn't have many nice things to say to me. I did date the kid's mom, Carol, in college, so that might have been why he didn't like me. Carol's a fine lady, if entitled but she's been working on it last I spoke to her. She enjoys travelling, especially to Asia, possibly a bit too much." Todd finishes his winding words with a chuckle, memories he's not sharing crossing his mind. "That enough for you?"

"Yes, thank you, though I'm not done with my questions yet." Zerada-Kil wheezes, silent laughter pouring from her mouth as Laura's eye twitches. The Gnomid sighs, gesturing for you to go on.

"Do we have any details about the bills/contractors?" You ask, tapping the table and making a scribbling motion in midair. "Anything that shouldn't have been remodeled or moved?"

Laura flips open the folder, retrieving invoices and other documents. "A company by the name of Gromine Contractors remodeled the house a few years ago for a hefty price in the multimillions of dollars. And then they paid a whole lot more to keep the blueprints private, in the range of tens of millions of dollars." Back in the 2040s-2050s, the rich wanted to install magical and super science defenses into their homes. Illegal defenses, sometimes very illegal. So they lobbied the government to let them. The nascent Service of the time didn't want this to pass and heavily opposed it. Eventually, a compromise was reached where one could pay to keep blueprints private and, therefore, any illegal additions private as well. "Gromine is a crystal clear company, nothing our records have indicates anything sketchy, well, beyond the norm. If that's just how they are or if there's somebody cleaning them we don't know. Maybe one of the other agencies knows something, if they do they're not saying."

"The pair of victims, the McKenzies, would they know anything?"

"You'll have to question them to find that out. But I would assume that yes, they do know something, especially given that they were inside the building." Laura says dryly, giving you a flat stare that you shrug off, some things need to be asked.

"Any means of communication with the kid, like, a land line or something?" You question, flipping though the file.

"Police tried that when they got there, kid picked up the phone but didn't say anything––he hung up not long after. Police noted that there was something breathing on the other end of the line, deep and husky, far too deep for a child of ten." Ah, there it is, found it right as she answered. "Any more questions?"

"Yes," Laura glances towards the fluorescent-lit ceiling, a pleading look in her eyes, "it says here that the parents haven't been contacted yet, why is that?"

Damien steps in here, answering it as he crumples a cigarette butt in the ashtray on the table––a fresh one inbetween his index and middle. "So they don't make a ruckus with us getting into their home. If there wasn't an active case we'd have to get a warrant or their permission to enter their mansion. If they're hiding something they're going to try and pull out all the stops to halt us, it's just easier this way."

"Isn't that… illegal?"

"Yes, if we were the FBI, but we're not. We in the S3 are a lot more freeform and flexible when it comes to what we can and cannot do then the other alphabet soups." Zerada-Kil leans over and lights the cigarette as he places it between his lips with a snap of her fingers and a flexing of power. "There have been many times that easily solvable cases resulted in disastrous outcomes because they were stymied by angry and belligerent home owners for too long. Supreme Court gave us the go ahead when it comes to cases with limited or unkown timeframes. If it's got a known timeframe but the limit's large enough then we gotta go to court. It's a process." He huffs, a puff of smoke drifting from his mouth. "Try not to break anything when we go in, we can get hit with a hefty lawsuit if it turns out that breaking it wasn't necessary to solve the case and the Service takes a dim view on agents who do that a lot." He pierces you with a serious look before closing his eyes and going back to smoking.

"Also the fact that they're in Tokyo right now. I suspect that they're going to notice that their child isn't with them soon enough." Todd adds as you nod, pulling your next question out.

"You mentioned Diviners, was there a recon team sent in? Anything visible from the outside?" You hold up one of the pictures of the outside of the house, taken by the first responders.

"There was a team sent in for a peripheral look and were able to give a description of the entrance hall, which seems to be relatively trap free. There's a staircase leading to the second floor and, presumably, the third floor as well. There are also four doorways leading to other parts of the house, one to the north, one to the northeast, one to the east, and one to the west."

"Do we have the blueprints from before it was remodeled?"

Laura nods, tapping the folder again. "They should be in the folder. Two stories, a large attic, and a large basement."

You don't have any more questions so you thank Laura and leave with Todd and Damien.

~~~~~~~

Todd's got his own transportation, so he'll meet you two there. In the meantime, after you loaded everything up in the trunk, you're riding shotgun in Damien's Service Issue Cruiser. Literally, given the shotgun attached to the roof of the car.

"Shotgun?" You ask, staring up at the pump-action sitting in the ceiling mount as you climb into the vehicle. The vehicle, a Cruiser, is more or less what you expected from a Service vehicle––just with more cigarette butts than you thought. It's rugged, it's responsive, and can redline like nobody's business.

"Yes, a shotgun." Damien replies, buckling into his chair and his hands on the steering wheel. "It's for when I need a shotgun. And yes, I know, Zerada is capable of doing more damage than the shotgun can. There are certain situations that only a shotgun can solve and I'll be damned if I don't have one when the time comes." He finishes in a rushed huff, several puffs of smoke escaping his mouth and piling on the roof. You get the impression that he's had this exact conversation many times before and wisely choose to not touch it.

Which is why you decide to ask about his relationship with Helen instead.

(Persuasion Roll DC 85: 100, success, really?
88+0=88, double success, alrighty then)

He grips the steering wheel like it owes him money, the cigarette crunching between his clenched teeth as he stares straight forward––his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead.

"We got together, didn't work out." He says finally, impossibly, through tightly gritted teeth. "We separated on good terms, though…" He sighs, seemingly aging twenty years right before your eyes. "Why'd we marry in the first place if she knew it wasn't going to work out?" Your Mentor mutters in a quiet voice, barely perceptible to the human ear. He laughs, a hollow, bitter thing. "Kid, take this old fuck's advice and don't date precogs, it'll leave you questioning a whole lot of things."

"I-I'll be sure to do that." You wince, grimacing in apology. "Sorry for bringing it up, I didn't know there was history like that between you two."

"It's not your fault, couldn't have known." The soul-bonded warrior sighs, breathing out a heavy puff of smoke. "She's a good woman, tries to do the right thing… but she has a bad, bad habit of not telling people what she's doing or why she's doing it."

"So, uh, what are we going to do once we get the kid?"

"Couple of options, all of which depend on the cause of the change." He turns the wheel, rounding the street corner. "If it's just a case of super science being realized, then we hand him off to the Super Science Council who'll look after him while he gets a hold on the megalomania." You nod, thinking back to your own time with them. They're decent people for the most part, if a little eccentric, but what super scientist isn't? "If it's something more insidious, like a possession or an 'imaginary friend'," Damien does little air quotes while gripping the wheel, "then we figure out if it's simply scared or genuinely malevolent. Since it hasn't killed anyone yet it might be able to be calmed down and acclimate to this world, but that's only if it isn't malevolent. If it's malevolent…" He points at the shotgun hanging from the roof. "We do our jobs and put it down, hopefully without having to bury the kid as well." The Senior Agent looks uncomfortable with that thought and quickly adds on to it. "If we have to put him to rest his family will be duly compensated and all funerary expenses will be paid for by the Service. Our primary goal here is the safety of the kid, as long as he's still able to be saved."

And with that, you fall into silence, until you pull up at the Mercer's household.

Police tape walls off the house as a small crowd has formed, kept at bay by police officers in their blue uniforms. An ambulance sits off to the side, a pair of towel-wrapped people, the McKenzies, sitting in the open back. Some of the windows of the house are shattered, the culprits a pair of buzzsaw blades lodged deep in the concrete driveway. Bright orange safety cones mark their location––specks of blood surrounding the saws more than evidence enough for the reason. You see Todd's beefy vehicle off to the side, the man himself talking to a police officer.

Damien turns to you as he shuts off the engine, elbow on the shoulder of the backrest. "I'll let you take charge here, what's the order we do things in? We can question the McKenzies, meet up with Todd for his preliminary analysis, talk with the police for their insight, take a quick peek in the house, or something else. What're we gonna do first, before we actually go in of course."

The Order (Please number these in the order you wish to do them, you also don't have to do them all, though you can)
[ ] Question the McKenzies
[ ] Todd's Preliminary Analysis
[ ] Talk to the Police
[ ] Peek inside the House
[ ] Write in

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: And here it is, you're on site and there's the case ahead of you. Voting will be called tomorrow at 6 PM CST. I've been thinking about shortening the cut-off point for voting by a bit, perhaps to 4 or 5 PM CST, what do you think?

Spoiler: Old Blueprints

Credit goes to DMDave for making the map and legend and saving me from map hell

Spoiler: Legend

1 – Main Entrance
2 – Foyer
3 – Main Entryway
4 – Living Room
5 – Den
6 – Privy
7 – Breakfast Room
8 – Kitchen (with laundry chute)
9 – Sunroom
10 – Formal Dining Room
11 – Upstairs Hall
The large flight of steps with the landing leads down to area #3. The stairs at the west end of the hall lead up to area #20.
12 – Servant Stairs
The stairways lead down to area #7.
13 – Master Bedroom
14 – Master Bathroom
15 – Bedroom
16 – Shared Bathroom
17 – Bedroom
18 – Recreation Room
19 – Bedroom
20 – Attic Room
The stairs here lead down to area #11.
21 – Attic Storage
22 – Tree House
23 – Basement
The basement is large and broken up into multiple areas.
-23a – Basement Entrance
-23b – Under the Kitchen
-23c – Laundry Chute Deposit
-23d – Laundry Area
The stairs at the north wall lead up to area #7.
23e – Furnace

 

[I.F. Ister]

"Protocol says to take control over the crime scene as the initial action, right?" At Damien's nod you continue. "So let's talk to the cops first, then grab Mr McCallister's preliminaries. After that we can grab the victims' statements and then examine the crime scene. If we spot an access port I'm going to see if STEVE can get in, if it's safe for him of course."

"I get to serve the Mistress!" STEVE squeals in joy, as much as an AI can squeal in joy.

"Good order, and good idea with the access ports." Damien says, opening the door and unbuckling himself as he gets out, you following close behind. "We should give Todd some extra time, to properly devise an analysis, but I think that he'll have enough time as it is. Allow me to lead the hand-off, but feel free to jump in if there's anything you think of."

You nod and with that, you approach the police officers, who regard you with cool gazes. "Afternoon, Agents." A black-haired, middle-aged, beerbelly of a man greets you with a raised arm—a mustache that reminds you of a caterpillar wiggles as he speaks. "I'm Officer George and these two," he gestures to the two officers next to him, they'd been chatting about something or another—you didn't catch the topic before you arrived, "Are Officers John and Paul."

Officer Paul looks rather plain and is of average height while Officer John is much taller and significantly more spindly, a big Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat. The pair greet you in the same way as Officer George.

"Afternoon, Officers. I'm Senior Special Agent Rhodes and this is my partner, Special Agent Williams." Damien returns the greeting, standing coolly with his short hair buffeted by the wind. "What've you got for us today?"

Officer John scratches at his thin hair, pushing back his hat to do so. "Well, it's a doozy, that's for sure." His voice is rather scratchy, it reminds you vaguely of a chicken.

"Doozy? Who even says that anymore?" Officer Paul remarks, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. Much like his appearance, his voice too is rather plain and unremarkable.

As the two bicker behind him, Officer George huffs and leans in towards you. "Looks to be a case of mistaken identity, kid in the house thought the two house sitters over there," he points towards the McKenzies huddling in the ambulance, "were a pair of burglars/kidnappers, either or. Why he thought that I'm not sure, guess it must be something in the water."

"Are there any more house sitters, or others, still inside the house? Any that could be being held hostage?"

"Hostages? Well, unless he's holdin' himself hostage I dunno. We haven't gotten any signs of live from inside, but we've been hesitant to enter on account o' the traps and the things." Officer George shrugs, brushing a crumb from his mustache before chuckling. "Not exactly trained for that sorta thing, yeah?" Understandable, it's not their jobs to risk their lives investigating something that's obviously Service jurisdiction.

And Mercer could very well be holding himself hostage, or something else might be holding him hostage, or having him hold himself hostage. There's any number of things out there that would be capable of doing that and you won't know until you actually come face to face with it, and sometimes not even then. It's the biggest issue with the job, you've come to learn, dealing with the complete unknown on a near daily basis.

The rest of the hand off goes much the same way. Though you do get warned to not touch anything sharp that comes from the house, apparently a careless officer lost his fingers just by brushing them against an edge.

Welp, next on your list is Todd, who you find poking one of the embedded buzzsaws with a stick. In the time you spent talking to the police he'd amassed quite the pile of stick shavings.

The consultant looks up as you approach, wiggling the stick in greeting. "I've neve seen anything like it." McCallister says, voice rushed and a grin on his face as he rises from his squat. "Well, that's a lie, I've seen super sharp things before but this is a," he smirks, "cut above the rest. I mean, look at this stuff!" He prods the blade of the saw with the stick, the wood shearing clean off with contemptuous ease.

You blink, that is… quite impressive. It's hard enough to hone even a single edge to that level of sharpness, let alone something with as many as a buzzsaw blade! And to get it to keep that sharpness, as it must have given the pile of stick chunks? It's nearly unheard of! The only examples you can think of are legendary weapons, like Chrysaor or Caladbolg.

(Passing Idea Roll DC 50,70,100: 12, failure)

You scowl, as an idea slips through your fingers. If only… If only… You shake your head clear of thoughts, refocusing in on Todd's words.

"Whoever made this is either a wizard or a super metallurgist." Mr McCallister says before frowning, his shoulders drooping slightly.

(Intuition Roll DC 35: 48+10=58, success)

"And they're probably a magic user." You reply, shoulders also drooping. "I don't see any infrastructure that'd allow something like this to be made, not without some serious miniaturization." You'd gotten your hopes up too, something as sharp as this keeping its edge would be a great step forwards for science… but it wasn't to be.

"Damn," he sighs, shaking himself back to full, "but no matter. We can still learn stuff from this."

(Damien's Perception Roll DC 70: 43+63=106, success, pretty standard for Damien
13+6=19, failure, not so standard lmao)

Damien's stepped back at this point and is currently staring at the house and the broken window, rolling an unlit cigarette between his thumbs and forefingers as he thinks. You absentmindedly note his head tilting to the side as his eyes narrow.

Pulling out your Infragoggles, you slide them on over your head, having to remove your glasses to put them on correctly. Turning it on, you start flicking through various different spectrums, on the hunt for the specific spectrum of magic that this magic user operates on.

"Well I'll be…" You mutter in disbelief as you pull the goggles off, blinking at the sudden change of lighting.

"What is it?" Todd leans in closer.

"Either it's on a magical spectrum I don't know about or this thing doesn't have any magic to it." You declare, hints of hope returning to you as you crack a grin. "Which means that this could very well be a piece of super science!"

Damien chooses to lean in then, his muttered words sending an icy chill down your spine. "We're being watched."

(Perception Roll DC 60: 71+10=81, success)

You blink, whirling around as a scampering, crashing sound can be heard coming from the broken window. From the corner of your eye you catch movement as something with a naked, hunched back disappears into the darkened halls of the house. It must have, somehow, heard Damien's words and decided to run. A smell that reminds you of excrement drifts across your nose.

The buzzsaw jostles next to you, cutting off your next thought as the blades begin to dislodge from the ground!

(Dodge Roll DC 40: 67+10=77, success)

You leap, tackling Todd to the side as the buzzsaws jerk up and away, flying back through the broken windows like a dog being called by its master!

The three of you sit there for several moments, bodies tense and ready for any sudden action. You atop Todd and Damien standing off to the side, hand at his waist as he settles into a slight crouch. Police and other onlookers stare at you, equally as uncertain and reminding you a deer about to bolt.

Fortunately, for you and your nerves, nothing comes from inside the house. With your heart beating in your chest, you climb to your feet and help the consultant up.

"What was that?" You ask as Damein straightens to his full towering height. That creature, it's short stature and protruding knobbly spine… "Was that Mercer?"

"I didn't get a very good look at it, but," he grimaces and sighs, squinting towards the broken shards of glass, "I'm fairly certain that that wasn't Mercer, or at least not him anymore. If it ever was him. I do have a few suspicions as to what it could be, but we can go over them once we're done here."

Damien stares up at the afternoon sky, seemingly aging a dozen years. "Regardless, the preliminary?"

Todd starts, having forgotten about that for a moment. "Ah, yeah, the analysis." The consultant scratches at his blonde hair. "Traps are, from what little I saw, primarily lethal leaning. At least that one was. You can tell a lot from a trapper just by looking at a single trap of theirs, though that doesn't consider the circumstances of the situation. But, regardless, keep your head on a swivel when we go in there, don't want to be carrying you out piece by piece."

With that done, it's time to talk to the McKenzies.

~~~~~~~

"Well, they're not going to be much help." Damien remarks as he emerges from the ambulance.

"What? Why not?" You ask, pushing off from where you'd been leaning against.

"The shock of the buzzsaws going off gave them panic attacks, EMTs elected to get them outta here and to their hospital's psych ward."

"Damn."

"So…" You mutter, hesitantly looking at the front door of the Mercer Household. "We're gonna have to go in, aren't we?"

"Just for a peek, if we see an access port you let STEVE at it, right?" He turns towards the mansion and heads towards it.

"Right." You huff and follow close behind him.

Carefully, the pair of you, plus Todd, approach the front door. It is entirely possible that Mercer trapped it in the time since it was last checked, so Todd volunteers to examine it, as he is the trap consultant.

(Investigation Roll DC 50: 40+15=55, success)

"It's good, no traps here." He says, standing up straight and placing a hand on the doorknob. Twisting, he opens the door with a flourish. "After you." He bows with a grin.

The inside of the manor looks, well, like a rich person's house. And that's just normal rich, not ultra-rich like your parents. Nice dark wood floors, lots of carpets, welcomingly warm, doors with artistic decorations. All in all, it's a nice place. Shame about the whole 'trap hell hole' thing, but it is what it is.

"See any ports?" Damien whispers to you as he creeps forward, a strange looking dagger in hand. A handle of pearl and a blade of ebony tapering to an acute point. It gives of a strange feeling, though a familiar one.

You toss your gaze across the room, searching for an access port. There! Next to the ticking grandfather clock! But, before you can approach it, you should have Todd take a look first, just in case.

(Investigation Roll DC 50: 17+15=32, failure)

"Doesn't look like anything's here, but be on your guard just in case."

You nod in thanks and pull out a flashdrive, a little thing you put together back when you were little that lets STEVE access closed circuit networks remotely. Essentially, it's a beacon but you didn't know those existed at the time.

(STEVE's Hack Roll DC 70: 23+20=48, failure)

"I have failed you!" STEVE cries out, abject dissolution is the only way to describe the emotion in his voice. "I am so very sorry! Please forgive me Mistress!"

"It's fine, STEVE. They had good anti-hacking measures, did they?"

"Yes! I wasn't expecting them to have actual defenses in a closed circuit, but apparently they do!" He trails off, grumbling to himself about 'paranoid home owners'.

With that, you exit the front door and stand out on the lawn once more.

"We've got some options here, with how we want to proceed." Damien says, closing the door behind him, the knife gone from his hand. "Your choice. We can head back to the archives to do some research on my suspicions. We can go back in and see if we can't find Mercer. Or we can try communicating with him. Or, if you've got any ideas of your own, we can do that. It's up to you."

[ ] Research at the Archives
[ ] Try to Find Mercer
[ ] Try and Communicate with Mercer
[ ] Write in

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: Apologies for lateness, but snow doesn't care. Voting will be called tomorrow at 5 PM CST, we're cutting it off a little earlier.

The other reason that this took a bit to get out is that I've been playing Imperator: Rome and having a heck of a time.

 

[I.F. Ister]

"Let's see what we can't find at the Archives." You eventually decide, following Damien to the car.

"Todd!" Damien calls to the consultant as he pops the car door open and reaches inside. Unlatching the shotgun from the roof, he hands it off to the approaching McCallister. "Keep an eye on the house, will you?"

Todd nods, accepting the pump-action and the box of shells pressed into his hand. "I'll be sure to keep my eyes peeled." He checks the slide, making sure it's clear.

Wait a second, that gives you an idea! "STEVE, can you keep trying to crack it while Damien and I are at the Archives?"

"Of course, Mistress! I will keep the miscreant company!" The low-level AI verbally grins. "By the time of your return, I will have the mockery they call e-defenses in shambles!"

Todd looks bemused by the AI, squinting at the air where his voice seems to come from. He shrugs and shakes his head.

You take this opportunity and climb in the car, Damien turning it on and off you go!

~~~~~~~

"I've had them ready for you since yesterday, the files are over there in that stack." Helen announces as you come through the door, finger extended towards a corner of the room. In said corner rests a decently sized pile of files and folders, all of which belong to the things you were just talking about on the way here.

"Thanks Helen." Damien offers her a slight wave as his long strides take him to the papers. He hands half of them to you and you settle in to get down to business.

(Research Roll DC 60: 76+10=86, success)
(Damien's Research Roll DC 55: 71+25=96, success)

"So, you find anything?" You ask as you note down an idea.

"I found four things that I reckon it could well be," Damien replies as he closes the folder he'd been looking through. "Why don't you tell me yours first."

You nod and pull a pair of files from your stack. "I found a couple, well, I only found the one but you know." You take a breath, centering yourself before launching into your creature. "It's called a 'Cho'g-Durill'," you frown, it's a bit hard to pronounce, which is a given that it wasn't designed for human mouths in the first place, "a creature from another dimension that's regarded by the locals as an omen of luck when working on a project, both good or bad luck."

He blinks, nodding along as he puts that down. "A good find. That is certainly one of the possibilities it could be." He laughs. "Heck, it was one of the ones I was thinking of on the way here, good job."

Damien pulls a trio of files from his pile, placing them in a row in front of you. He taps the first one. "This is a Gremlish, a denizen from somewhere in the Upper Realm."

"Az-Duralia!" Zerada-Kil helpfully chimes in from the back seat. "The Land of the Half-Sun Seal!"

"Right, Az-Duralia, one of the quote unquote 'cultivator' planes. Not a great place, but better than the Hellpits."

"That's not saying much!" Zerada cracks a grin as she giggles. "But some of those planes are somehow even worse and I have no idea how they managed that."

"Gremlish have an inclination towards assisting people in discovering their hidden potential, forcefully if needs be. There's always a price to their help, but for some it's worth it."

You grimace, if you'd known about them… back when you were little and hadn't yet figured out super science… well, suffice to say you'd have probably tried to call one of them to you. But no matter, things are much better now that you're out of that house and away from them.

"The second is a large, man sized creature called a Kobolkin. They're a larger, stronger, variation of the Kobold and as such they possess a cruel cunning and an aptitude for traps. They also, in addition to the former, have the ability to learn more complex forms of magic rather than the basic Sorcery that Kobolds know."

"Fuckers are weird, like, scarily smart at times." The Arming Devil in the comfy chair chimes in again.

"That they are," Damien adds as he taps the last folder in the row, "the thing and final thing I'm thinking about are the Gasikin, an alien race from the planet Gascar. They sometimes come here as refugees as their homeworld is currently undergoing a bloody revolution, sorta their Second French Revolution." You wince at that. The first wasn't great but man, the second blew the first outta the water with how many heads were rolling.

With that, you thank Helen and leave with the files in hand, heading back to the crime scene.

~~~~~~~

(STEVE's Hack Roll DC 35: 43+20=63, success)
(Did anything happen while you were gone? 38, nope)

"Mistress! I cracked the code!" STEVE yells out in joy as you arrive. Stepping out of the car you see Todd waving at you—the shotgun loosely held between his fingers.

"Didn't see anything weird going on in the mansion, you find what you were looking for?" Todd asks as you approach him.

"We've narrowed it down to one of four possibilities." You say as STEVE pipes up in your ear.

"Mistress, I have the blueprints of the house! …But, well…" He seems rather sheepish, but manages to work his nerve up enough to say whatever it is. "It seems they kept their blueprints as physical records. I did get access to some of the security cameras, though!"

"Good job, STEVE." You smile at him and he squees again.

"Alright, what's our next step?" Damien asks as he begins listing them off. "We can go in and find him. We can stay out here and try communicating with him, or the being. Or we can try something else. Up to you."

[ ] Go inside
[ ] Stay outside and try communicating with him
[ ] Write in

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: I don't know why this one was so difficult to write, but here it is. Voting will be called tomorrow at 5 PM CST.

I'm still a little unsure on 5 PM being the cut off point, I'll try it again then go back to 6 if I'm still weirded out by it.

 

[I.F. Ister]

"We're going in and STEVE, do you think you can be our guide?" You announce to the pair of men standing by you.

"Of course, Mistress!" STEVE proclaims, already splitting his attention between the various cameras.

Todd sighs, overdramatically slumping over and letting his arms hang free. "This is gonna be painful, I just know it."

Damien rolls his eyes and hefts Todd back to his full height. "Standing out here's not gonna accomplish anything, we'll have to go in whether we want to or not so there's no point delaying it." The Senior Agent turns to the closest police officer, Officer George, and calls to him. "We're going in!"

Officer George looks up from where he'd been sitting on the hood of his car. The rotund man brushes some crumbs from his mustache and gives you a sharp wave.

"Before we go in, gotta check to make sure the front door isn't trapped." Todd speaks as he strides ahead of the group and to the closed door frame.

(Todd's Investigation Roll DC 50: 74+15=89, success)

"Stay back!" The blond orders you as he frowns, crouching before the doorknob. "Looks like we've got a stunner here. It'll give you one heck of a shock should you touch it. However," the consultant announces as he retrieves a multimeter-like device from his open sports jacket, "I came prepared!"

Todd attaches the device to the brass doorknob and pushes a button on the side, stepping back as the boxy machine starts vibrating. Sparks off and away from the doorknob, showering the front step as the piece of super science does its job. And then, all of a sudden, it stops. Daintily, Todd detaches the clamps and shoves it back in his jacket pocket. Slipping on a rubber glove, he opens the door.

McCallister shoots a grin to you and Damien as you stand next to him. "And that's why you never go with the lowest bidder, you get garbage products like that." He flicks a gloved finger at the cylindrical device that lies scorched, smoking on the floor of the carpeted foyer.

"Good work, Todd." Damien remarks as he steps into the foyer and looks up at the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Wisely, he stays away from the center of the room. "But don't let your pride become overconfidence, it's a slow and insidious killer."

You frown as you follow your mentor in. "That sounds familiar." Damien purses his lips, looking shifty as you carry on. "Isn't that from… I dunno. I've heard that somewhere for sure, though."

He coughs and mumbles something under his breath—something about 'darkest dungeons', whatever that means. "A-anyways, we should carry on."

"Right. Where to?" You ask as Todd comes up behind you, he too glances up at the hanging chandelier swaying slightly above the middle of the room.

"It's not just me that thinks that that's totally going to fall, right?" The baby-faced man questions the rest of the group, pointing a finger at the object in question.

"You're not, it definitely is." Damien replies, jerking a thumb at the door behind him as he answers your question. "We should check that area we saw that thing, see if it left anything behind.

"Waste of a good chandelier." Todd mutters while shaking his head. "Those things aren't cheap, you know." He squats by the door Damien gestured at, fingers dancing as he checks it for traps as well.

(Todd's Investigation Roll DC 50: 48+15=63, success)

He sighs, leaning his head against the wooden door. "And there's another one here, I'll disarm it."

While he does that, an idea comes to you in a flash. You blink, staring up at the camera angled down towards you. "Hey, STEVE, you think you can find the kid using those?"

"I don't know, Mistress, but I'll certainly give it a shot!"

(STEVE's Investigation Roll DC 40,60,80: 49, success)

"I'm so sorry, Mistress, but I can't find him on the cameras! The second floor cameras are all out of action, as well as the attic cameras, and I can't find him on the first floor!" He responds after a few seconds of silence.

"Don't worry about it, STEVE. You still found some valuable information regardless." You stare up the stairs leading to the second floor. "Because if he's not on the first floor's cameras, he's somewhere in the second or the attic."

"Good conclusion." Damien remarks as Todd rises from the door. "Though he could have a hiding spot on this floor."

(Perception Roll DC 50: 57+10=67, success)
(Damien's Perception Roll DC 50: Autopass)

"Alrighty, it's disarmed." Todd announces and opens the door, leading you both down the hall. This hallway has a long window on the left wall, the thick curtains drawn shut and blocking most of the light from reaching the room. In a cutaway of the right way is another flight of stairs, this one much narrower and doubling back on itself once it reaches about eight steps. On the other end of the hallway is a doorway that leads, presumably, to the study with the broken windows.

"Well," your mentor says about halfway down the hall, squatting over the hallway's carpet, "somebody had some butterfingers."

"What?" You reply as you look over his shoulder. Is he talking about the cand- No, wait he's talking about fingers. Like, actual fingers from somebody's hand. Well, the first knuckle of somebody's forefinger and the tip of their middle. "Why are those here? And who did they belong to?"

"Likely one of the McKenzies, the husband was reportedly missing parts of his hand according to the report." Damien replies as he takes a quick series of pictures with a small camera he had with him. Placing a little flag next to the fallen fingers, he rises to his feet.

"You done?" Todd asks but is halted in his tracks by Damien's raised hand.

(Perception Roll DC 60: 57+10=67, success)
(Damien's Perception Roll DC 60: Autopass)

You freeze, seeing it too. At the top of the stairs is that hunchbacked creature again, staring back at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

(???'s Resolve Roll DC 85: 17, failure)

It moves, letting out an ear splitting shriek as it flies up the stairs. You and Damien share a split second look before you too burst into action.

"Chase it, I'll cut it off!" Shouts Damien as you sprint up the stairs, hitting the landing and rounding the double-back. Damien darts back down the hallway, heading for the main stairwell as you freeze in your tracks.

At the top of the stairs is the creature, waving at you as it lets go of a heavy-looking bucket.

(Dodge Roll DC 40: 39+10=49, success)

You duck under the swinging bucket, taking the stairs two at a time as the thing screeches in shock. It throws itself to the side just before you reach the top, blitzing down the second story hallway.

Damien emerges from around the far corner, arm outstretched to try and grab the creature.

(Damien's Wrestle Roll: 17+80=97
???'s Dodge Roll: 73+15(Misty Step)=88
Damien Wins)

The thing leaps forward, blue-white particles flowing from its gray skin as it looks to turn into mist. And then Damien's hand impacts its neck, the thing gurgles as his fingers clamp down like a vise as he pivots on the spot. The pictures on the wall rattle from the force of the impact.

The gray-skinned, hunch-backed creature slides down the wall, it's eyes drifting aimlessly in its eye sockets.

"This is a Gremlish." Damien announces as you reach him. He reaches down and grabs one of the Gremlish's wrists. With Damien holding it up, you can get a good look at its rather odd hand. Two fingers and two thumbs on each hand, a thumb on each side of the palm. Folded close to its arm is a length of skin, slightly fuzzy to the touch. Wings, you realize, for gliding in the wind. It's feet look like bird talons, like an eagle's. "I suppose we'll find out how it got here soon enough."

"R-right." You say, staring at the vaguely rat-like snout on its face. If you recall correctly, they can speak English, which is rather interesting given that its face doesn't really look like it could. But so do parrots and look at what they can do.

"So," he says as Todd catches up to the both of you, "what should we do with it?"

[ ] Interrogate it for Max's location (finding the kid is the important part here, you can ask other questions later)
[ ] Interrogate it for how it got here (making sure that there's no way for more Gremlishes, or worse, to get here is also rather important)
[ ] Write in

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: Alrighty, section done and sent your way. Voting will be called tomorrow at 5 PM CST and thanks for reading!

 

[I.F. Ister]

Things got weird, sorry about not closing it here. I had thought I had.

~~~~~~~

"Alright, Gremlish." You lean down, lightly slapping its cheek to get its attention. "We've got some questions for you, but those can wait for later. Right now," you raise a gloved finger, "all we want to know is the location of Max Mercer and," a second finger joins its sibling, "his current wellbeing."

The Gremlish squirms around in Damien's vise-like grip—Damien swapped from holding the extra-dimensional by the neck to simply pressing its shoulders into the wall. It tries to avoid your gaze, eyes darting around the room looking for anything other than you, or Damien, or Todd, to focus on. Of course, with how it's situated it's rather unsuccessful in its attempts so it gives up.

"Max Mercer? This one is not familiar with anyone with that name." Its voice is a reedy thing, sounding vaguely like a weasel—if a weasel could talk, of course.

"Cut the crap, we know he's here."

"Trust! This one speaks the honest truth!" It squeaks out as it squirms and wiggles in mounting fear. Alright, maybe it is telling the truth, or at least the truth as it knows it. Time to try another angle.

"Have you seen a child about yay tall," you hold your hand at about rib height, "with short black hair and glasses?"

It nods its head wildly, looking to all the world like a bobblehead. "Yes! Yes, this one has seen the one you seek!"

"And where is he?" You demand, leaning in closer with a glare.

"Hidden away in the room!"

"Which room!?" You're getting close to roaring now, slamming a fist beside its head. It jerks away from your hand, but is restrained from moving too far by Damien's own hands.

"This one will show you! Promise!" It begs you, if it could you reckon it'd be clasping its hands together.

(Intuition Roll DC 35: 65+10=75, success)

As best you can tell, the creature before you is being entirely genuine. Of course, you're gonna keep a close eye on the thing no matter what, no telling if your instincts are being thrown off with this being an extra-dimensional being.

"Alright, lead the way." You step away and give Damien a nod. Your mentor releases the hunchbacked creature, who shuffles a little bit away from the three of you.

"Follow this one!" It announces before pivoting and moving down the hallway and down the stairs. It leads you through the house and into the basement, pointing out all the traps along the way.

You find yourself standing outside a heavy steel door set in the wall, well outside the vision of the cameras. The door doesn't seem to have any latch or knob on your end. You reckon you could wiggle a prybar in there and, with the help of Damien and Todd, you could probably force it open. You could also see if Todd and you could whip up a device or machine that could open it for you. Or STEVE might be able to actually hack it open, though you suspect that that'll be a difficult task.

If the Gremlish is to be believed, the kid's in there and has been in there for some time. Well, you're gonna have to get in there somehow, or you can try communicating with him.

[ ] Try to get in. How?
-[ ] Prybar
-[ ] Whip up something
-[ ] Have STEVE try to hack it
[ ] Communicate with Mercer

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: Short, I know, but I'm not one to drag things out if I don't have to. Expect the next update to be around this length as well, depending on which option you settle on. Voting will be called tomorrow at 5 PM CST, thanks for participating!

 

[I.F. Ister]

Warning: This update contains body horror

~~~~~~~

"STEVE, think you can crack it?" You ask of him for the third and, hopefully, final time. "Third time's the charm?" And in some cases, it literally is the charm. Fate does so love plucking those red strings and setting things up just to tear them down.

"Of course, Mistress! I've battled against their code twice now; I won't let the third be my undoing!" You're pretty sure that their code isn't robust enough to enact an automated retaliatory attack, but, well, you're not the person hacking into their systems.

The AI falls silent as he turns his focus inwards, towards the code that only he can see. The Gremlish glances from you to Damien to Todd and back, shifting nervously from foot to taloned foot.

"S-so may this one beg his leave?" It asks hopefully only to be denied by Damien's harsh glare, shot down like a fighter plane going through an AA-gun battery.

"Not just yet." Your mentor remarks while Todd shakes his head in the background a little ways down the hall. The older, salt and pepper haired man turns to you. "Itzabella, this being your first proper case I figured that it's a good idea to tell you that the vast majority of cases aren't like this." He waves his arm around the place in a broad gesture. "Where you're working in a time crunch. Most of the time it's a slower burn, building up over the course of weeks where you're working on multiple cases at once."

The Senior Special Agent grimaces, turning his gaze back to the smooth steel door barring the way. "It's my main issue with the final exam, gives mostly unrealistic expectations for future cases." His shoulders rise and fall, shrugging with the weight of worlds. "The job's not all gunsmoke and chase scenes, almost all your time's spent chasing down loose threads and the occasional red herring."

"Sounds like they should change it." Todd adds from his spot in the peanut gallery.

Damien sighs. "If only it were that easy. We just don't have the time to simulate an entire investigation in a timely manner, so we set up a scenario that should quickly put their skills to the test." He nods in your direction. "Of course, sometimes things go wrong like in your case, Itzabella."

(STEVE's Hacking Roll DC 30: 28+20=48, success)

"I come bearing good news, Mistress and minions!" STEVE declares, pride overflowing in his voice. "I have cracked the code! Just give the word and the door shall open!"

"The word." You crack a slight smirk before composing yourself. The door, much like your smile, cracks open, rubber seals depressurizing with a hiss. The heavy steel mass swings wide, opening the way forward.

Damien leads the way, Todd next, and you after with the Gremlish being dragged by yourself.

As you step inside you're greeted with piles of wrappers scattered across the medium-ish sized room. A fridge sits in the wall, looking like it was ransacked in the few hours Mercer'd been in here. And speaking of Mercer… The kid doesn't look good, to say the least.

Maxwell Johan Mercer, or just 'Max', looks dangerously emaciated––a far cry from his previous mildly overweight self. He has the vague appearance of a stick with two legs and two arms, each equally as stickish as his body––nearly see-through skin stretched taut over bones. Where he once had silky smooth black hair now rests a matted mop of grease masquerading as a hairdo. Where he once had a devilish smirk and a glint of childish delight he now has sunken, hollow cavities––with what had once been eyes sitting shriveled up in the sockets.

He's still alive, if you could call it that, judging from his pitiful bone-like arms trying to lift a still-wrapped energy bar to the blackened gums where pearly white teeth used to shine, his limbs shaking feebly from the effort.

To see a mere child, no older than ten, reduced to such a pale shadow of his former self… it fills you with righteous anger, an anger you desperately struggle to contain.

(Resolve Roll DC 75: 95+30=125, success
83+25=108, double success
45+8=53, triple success)

With a monumental surge of willpower clad in iron, you clamp down on the burbling rage inside you, shoving it ever deeper down below. You can deal with your wrath later, in a more acceptable situation.

(Damien's Intimidation Roll: 97+125=222, hot damn Damien
94+122=216, dear god
37+116=153, oh lord forgive me for what I'm about to write this creature through
84+53=137, and it just keeps going!
83+37=120, I have nothing left to say
77+20=97, other than holy fucking shit)
(Gremlish's Resolve Roll: 30+5=35, yeah, yeah I saw that one coming)

"Did you do this." A creeping chill sweeps through the room at Damien's words. He once told you that he tries not to ask questions he already knows the answers to, and this? This is no question. This is a statement of fact. And intent.

He pivots at blinding speeds, his towering height casting a dark shadow over the cowering Gremlish––its hands raised in a futile defense. You'd thought you'd seen fear before, but this… this is truly nothing less than terror through and through.

An acrid stench wafts from where the creature huddles on the floor curled up in the fetal position as Damien lifts his heavy boot and places it surprisingly carefully on the thing's soft-looking head.

"It was the price!" The pitiable abomination screeches out, looking for any way to get out of this with its skin intact––or at least alive. "It was the price for unlocked potential!"

"Not good enough." Damien removes his foot from the presence before you, which begins to unfold itself from its hunched position. And then it's suddenly in the air, dangling by the neck from Damien's gloved hand once more. "Special Agent Williams." His words have you snapping to attention. "Take this thing and find out how it got here." The furious man heaves it to your feet, it lands splayed out on the cold concrete floor. "Consultant McCallister and I will tend to the target." His eyes flick to you for but a half second, revealing the void-like chasms that replaced his normally observant gaze and sending the hairs on the back of your neck shock straight. "You have your orders."

You can't help but snap out a quick 'yes sir' as you haul the despicable thing away from the panic room.

But before you fully leave line of sight, you hear a final command come from your mentor. "After you find the source, do what you will."

It squirms and squabbles in your grasp, trying it's utter best to escape, to no avail. You're simply too focused on this to let your attention waver for even an instant.

After some prodding, you manage to get it to lead you to the office on the second floor––the place where Mercer's father spends most of his time. And, apparently, where the rest of the family is forbidden from entering.

The inside of the room looks nothing like you'd expect. All the decorations and desks and bookshelves are shoved off to the side. Pieces of shattered glass litter the floor from where lamps hit the ground in the mad dash to push everything away from the center of the room.

The middle of the room is dominated by a shrine-like thing, an open book with blood splattered against the covers sits in the center of the thing. A painting of a Gremlish sits on a pedestal, lit candles burning on either side. A small pool of blood sits in a bowl before it. More blood is scattered across the ground, from where somebody had trodden on the fallen glass with bare feet.

It doesn't take a genius of your caliber to realize that this is the source. The only questions are…

What to do with the source?
[ ] Destroy it
[ ] Try to shut it down, the boys in R&D (and you) are gonna have a field day with this

And what to do with the Gremlish?
[ ] Kill it slowly
[ ] Kill it quickly
[ ] Keep it for R&D

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: Good job, everyone, you got the kid and you got the Gremlish! I'm thinking that the next update will be debriefing and finishing up what happened here. Voting will be called tomorrow at 5 PM CST, thanks for voting!

 

[I.F. Ister]

"You know why he's called 'Carrionbird'?" Todd remarks as you're loading the office into a series of boxes––sealant charms carved into the cardboard. The man himself is outside, talking with HQ.

"No, his files got a lot of redactions." You answer, placing the framed picture of a Gremlish inside the packing peanut-filled container. The Gremlish itself is currently bound and gagged in the custody of a pair of rather unfriendly agents––to it, that is; they were downright amicable to you and Todd. "A weird amount, honestly."

"Now, I'm just a consultant, but I've been friends with him for years now." Todd chuckles, flipping through the book on the altar. It's important to make sure that there's no tracking seals or beacons hidden in the pages. You've seen 'No Country for Old Men', you know how that ends. "I was a kid when I met him for the first time, in a place not too dissimilar to this place." A finger makes a lazy circle around the room––around the house in general. "In not too different of a situation, either. I was in my megalomaniac phase, you see." He clarifies as he shuts the book, placing it in another box. A slight shudder passes through his body as unwelcome memories resurface.

You nod comfortingly as you pat his shoulder in a commiserating fashion. The older super scientist, though not by much, thanks you with a smile and continues on.

"Damien was one of the agents sent to figure out what the hell was goin' on with the, well, the traps." Todd scratches the back of his head nervously as he grimaces. "I, uh, ended up putting bombs in peoples' heads. Didn't kill anyone but still not the coolest of moves on my part, but, you know, I was 13 at the time."

"When I was going through my phase I stole someone's granddad's ashes and turned them into drugs––which I then sold." You're not too sure why you felt the need to share that, perhaps because you didn't want Todd to feel like he was alone. Perhaps because you just decided to get it off your chest, so to speak. Or perhaps you just didn't think before you spoke.

"Ouch." His eyebrows rise far up his forehead. "Wow, that's, uh, that's kinda fucked."

"I know."

"Just, wow. Didn't see that one coming, that's for sure."

"Can we move on?"

"Oh yeah, uh, sure."

He recomposes himself as you flush, staring at the hardwood floor of the office. "A-anyways, the point I was trying to make is that Damien tends to leave bodies in his wake, a lot of bodies––crowfood if you will."

"Why's he called 'Carrionbird' if he's the one that makes the bodies?" You observe, frowning as you put the candles––now extinguished, in the box alongside the picture frame. "That's stupid."

The blond shrugs, taping his box shut. "He didn't pick the name."

"Doesn't mean it's not stupid." You retort, pointedly not thinking about how much your younger self would have adored that name.

~~~~~~~

Laura Bristle, Senior Handler, strolls into the briefing room, her short Gnomish stature not hindering her presence at all. Of course, having seen Damien's 'serious mood' the effect is lessened for you somewhat, but not by a whole lot.

The Senior Handler mounts the chair and levers it higher, placing her elbows on the table as she reaches the chair's height limit. She frowns, though not as deep as this morning's frown.

"First thing's first," the Gnomid announces, slapping the same folder from this morning on the table––though noticeably thicker, "congratulations are in order. Good job." She fixes each of you with a stare––Todd's is much shorter than yours and Damien's. "With that out of the way, it's time to get to the nitty gritty."

"What you did right." A picture of the Gremlish, bound and gagged, is removed from the folder. "And what you did wrong." A picture of the McKenzies wrapped in towels as a nurse brings them steaming mugs of hot chocolate is laid next to the Gremlish's picture.

"But first," Bristle announces, leaning in, "why don't you tell me what happened?"

You flick your eyes to Damien, who nods for you to start. "Well, we were called in to investigate a supernatural hostage situation…?" The circumstances of the case, or assignment rather, were and still are vague. "At 9:20 AM by the 24th Chicago Police Department. Once we arrived, at about 9:55 AM, we set about taking control of the crime scene, which was achieved swiftly and sufficiently."

"And what happened next? Specifically with the next part." Bristile prods.

"Well… Consultant McCallister was examining a pair of buzzsaw blades that had been embedded into the concrete driveway after they'd been launched from a window. We decided to consult him for his preliminary analysis after taking control of the scene. During which the buzzsaws activated and flew back inside the house."

"Thanks to the quick actions of Special Agent Williams, Consultant McCallister wasn't injured or worse." Damien interjects, a warm look sent your way. It had been, well, a bit awkward between the two of you since the Gremlish situation.

"And then the McKenzies had to leave the scene for psychological reasons." Bristle reads flatly. "From the buzzsaws activating, meaning you couldn't get a statement firsthand from the victims and had to rely on the statement the police and their investigators gathered." She sighs, rubbing at her temples with a hand while tapping the table with the other. "You couldn't have known that the buzzsaws would activate and trigger them, but, in the future, can you please exercise more caution when interacting with known supernatural things?" She leverages that more towards Todd then at you or Damien. He grins sheepishly, wincing as he shrugs.

"Regardless," Bristle continues on, pulling out more photos as she does, "narrowing down the identity of the Gremlish was a good call, even if you had to leave the crime scene to do so. Figuring it out earlier saved precious time later, allowing our medical personnel to quickly document and resuscitate the other victim, Maxwell Johan Mercer––who is currently in the medical wing. He is projected to make a full recovery in the coming weeks and months, though his eyes may need additional work. His parents and family members have been contacted and are currently on their way back as rapidly as they can, even going so far as to charter a wizard to teleport them."

The Senior Handler sits up to full, a smile creeping its way across her somewhat plump face. "In any case, you did good when dealing with an actual situation." She nods, producing a small plate of cookies from somewhere and pushing it towards you. You accept one, plucking a peanut butter cookie from the platter. "That implies good things for your future career."

With that, she takes her leave, which includes leaving the cookies behind. It doesn't take long for them to be all gone. Gnomes are known for their cooking skills, after all.

Spoiler: Downtime Options

You may pick up to 7, you may pick the same thing multiple times
[ ] Ashley J. Williams' weapons are lost and gone, but they don't have to be. Start your search for the legendary tools of El Jefe.
[ ] The Mercers want to meet the people who saved their son's life. Go see them.
[ ] Search around for some way of getting your hands on parts for super science research, amongst other things (Contacts roll)
[ ] Perform Super Science
-[ ] Research Something
--[ ] Gremlish
--[ ] Gremlish Summoning Ritual
--[ ] Dullahan
--[ ] Write in
-[ ] Brainstorm New Ideas (Come up with new ideas that you can then start designing)
-[ ] Design a Creation (Create an actual design from an idea)
--[ ] Troll-Muscle Fiber
--[ ] Auto-Stitching Fiber
-[ ] Test a Design
--[ ] Zoom Powder
-[ ] Optimize Creations. Which? (Have a chance to improve on a design in some way)
--[ ] Burninator
--[ ] Infragoggles
--[ ] Anti-Plant Spray
--[ ] MSB 10
--[ ] Cutter Rounds
[ ] Visit a Facility
-[ ] Study at the Archives (Increases Mental Health) (Has a chance for you to come across some interesting bit of knowledge) (You may specify what you want to study)
-[ ] Meditate in the Chapels (Has a chance to increase Spiritual Health)
-[ ] Workout in the Gym (Increases Physical Health)
[ ] Train something/with someone
-[ ] Damien Rhodes (Blades of the Crow) (18 More Successes Needed)
-[ ] Damien Rhodes (Dance of the Crow)
-[ ] Damien Rhodes (Knowledge (Write in))
-[ ] Sean McCullen (Unarmed Combat)
-[ ] Old Baba (Magic)
[ ] Visit someone
-[ ] Damien Rhodes
-[ ] Old Baba
-[ ] …Your parents
-[ ] Someone else (Write in)
[ ] Take a Personal Action
-[ ] Go for a walk
-[ ] Write in

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: Alrighty, 12k words and 33 pages later you finished the First Case and got a good outcome, good job! Voting will, as always, be called tomorrow at 5 PM CST.

 

[I.F. Ister]

You crack your knuckles as you spin around in your lab chair, rolling up to your desk with a flourish. Rolling your shoulders and stretching your back, you settle into the 'scientist slouch' and pull out your half-baked plans for the Auto-Stitching Thread.

Retrieving pens and pencils from the next drawer up, you set to work.

(Craft (Super Science) Roll DC 50,80: 94+15=109, double success, MWAHAHAHAHA
60+9=69, triple success, nice)

You stare up at the ceiling, where a lazily spinning fan cools you off. A grin widens across your face as you raise a clenched fist towards the ceiling––soft plumes of smoke drift away from the tip of the pencil clutched in your hand.

You've done it. You've created not one, but two complete designs in as many hours.

The first is a spool of something you're calling 'RegenerThread'. RegenerThread, should the testing show results, is supposed to allow your very clothing to close up lacerations and wounds at a relatively quick pace. Of course, it is devilishly expensive to manufacture on a broader scale than individual use, so you're probably not going to be seeing it in anything larger than a pair of socks or gloves, perhaps a bracelet of it.

The second is a new restraining agent, which you're currently calling 'Re-Cuffs'. Re-Cuffs are something quite similar to your new RegenerThread, but with a key difference. Re-Cuffs is a length of unassuming string that, when broken, reforms stronger than before. This means that a super strong monster can't easily escape from the restraints as they'll just keep getting stronger and stronger until the monster can't break free anymore. Unfortunately, there needs to be a way of releasing the restraints. The way of doing that is by sending a sustained electric charge through the string, which loosens it enough to be taken off the subject. After it's taken off it returns to its original state.

You eye your two newest designs with an appraising eye, these are gonna be quite useful in the future, you just know it.

Anywho, it's time for you to get ready! R&D's going to be taking an indepth look at that Gremlish and you wouldn't miss that for the world!

~~~~~~~

Dr. Simule, a glasses-wearing bald man in a white lab coat, greets you as you enter the observation chamber. The chamber overlooks the theater room, where the study is to take place.

"Ah, Special Agent Williams, you've come just in time. The Gremlish is being prepped as we speak." His voice is like smooth butter, he could've been a talk show host or a radio personality if he hadn't gone into science.

Some parts of the country, especially places like Puerto Rico, haven't gotten TV signals in years or even decades––a consequence of the Seals breaking resulted in lots of wireless signals being disrupted or even halted entirely. This effect grows stronger the closer you get to the Equator. Certain countries like Ecuador don't have any wireless signals at all! Hell, if you're standing directly on the Equator, you can't send or receive any signals at all, be it wireless or wired!

"Dr. Simule, it's been awhile, hasn't it?" You respond as you step into the room fully. And it has been some time, the last time you saw him was when he showed you to the laboratories, back in training.

"Indeed it has!" He replies, merrily so. "Oh I just love a good vivisection, don't you?" The good doctor asks as he hops from one foot to the other, looking to all the world like an excited puppy.

You shrug. "They're alright, never really found the experience itself interesting. Though that might be on account of my specialties not lying in biology or anatomy."

The super scientist waves it off. "Ah, no bother, it just means more for me!" You're not entirely sure that that's how that works, but you're not one to say something doesn't work just because you haven't seen it before. After all, what's the point of super science if not to disrupt what was previously held to be true? You mean, you've witnessed every single one of Newton's laws be broken before––all at once, even!

"So," you start talking, trying to fill the silence that had fallen between you two, "made anything interesting recently?"

Dr. Simule brightens up, like a lighthouse on a stormy night. "Why yes indeed I have! I bred a Phyloc dremorum with a Terigenus malefect and succeeded in producing fertile offspring!" It takes you a few seconds to piece together what he's referring to, but when you do you pale slightly. The Phyloc dremorum, more commonly referred to as Walker's Vine, is a type of demonic vine that, well, does demonic things like spreading Hellish infestation. Terigenus malefect, on the other hand, is a type of rodent-like creature from the Shadow Mirror, a mirror world of earth. Mirror worlds are alternate dimensions where everything is subtly wrong, in a way you struggle to put a finger on.

A crossbreed between those two things… yikes for whoever pissed off Dr. Simule enough to go the effort of breeding a plant and a rat together.

"Fertile offspring, you say?" Your eyebrows rise up as you speak. "You sure that's a good idea when working with things like that?"

"It just happened that way! And don't you worry, all offspring have been euthanized with extreme prejudice!" He smiles brightly as he says that.

"...right." You eventually reply, turning your attention to the operating theater as the strapped down Gremlish is wheeled in.

(Learning DC 30,80: 28+10=38, success)

Well, that was certainly enlightening. Apparently, while they've encountered Gremlish twice before, this was the first time they'd been able to take a live one apart.

From it, you gathered an idea. A serum that, upon ingestion, would enhance your natural abilities for a limited amount of time. By your very rough estimates, this would be very valuable for agents on the field.

(Gain Idea: Enhancing Serum)

~~~~~~~

Pulling out the chair to your room's desk, you're once again reminded that you need to find an apartment or something to call your own. You can't stay in the HQ forever, even if you wanted to.

Sitting down, you retrieve Dr Wallace Williams' research notes from your desk drawers and get to reading. With trembling hands and bated breath you turn pages and scan passages, searching for clues to the whereabouts of the tools of your ancestor's trade. The Boomstick and the Chainsaw, both valued heirlooms of your family, both lost on adventures and escapades.

(Investigation Roll DC 40,70: 53+10=63, success)

The Chainsaw, you learn, was lost to the Williams when an adventure in the Independent State of Florida went horribly wrong, which resulted in the deaths of your great-great-great-grand-uncles Arthur and Thomas as well as Arthur's wife, Beau. They had been adventuring in a quest to find the mythical Fountain of Youth and had, apparently, encountered a particularly resilient Satani, an extremely strong and extremely intelligent strain of Devil. No trace of the Chainsaw shows up again for several decades, not until something remarkably similar to it in description shows up for auction in Kansas. It seems that it was purchased by the Winchesters, another family of demon slayers based in Lawrence. Of course, it is completely possible that they lost it as well, but they're the best lead you've got at the moment.

The Boomstick… well, you're unfortunately not so lucky there. The research mentions that it was last seen in the 1400s, when a time vortex sucked it out of the hands of Dr Wallace's mother when Dr Wallace was just a boy. Apparently, more knowledge is kept in the archives, more of his research and notes. What you're holding here is the scraps of knowledge he wrote on his deathbed, what he still remembered anywho.

And if you want to continue this quest, you're going to need to talk to your 'parents' again.

Goddammit.

~~~~~~~

"Hey, Baba!" You announce to the seemingly empty storefront, which has seen some cleaning since you last came in. Some being the operative word there as it's still a dust-filled hellhole, but at least there aren't as many boxes cluttering the place. "I'm here for the, uh, magic lessons as well as…" You trail off, struggling to find the words. "Some advice, for family stuff."

"Trying to start a family?! Already?! Oh I haven't even met the lucky young man!" Old Baba comes hurtling from the backrooms, her colorful clothing amok as she skids to a halt in front of you. The old woman looks as absolutely jacked as ever, like she would be more at home in a bodybuilding competition than running a magic shop. "Well," she composes herself, smoothing out her skirts as she towers a full two feet over your head, "there's a lot that goes int-"

You cut her off, knowing that she's going to be at this forever if you don't stop her now. "It's not that, Baba, it's…" You take a deep breath, "...my own parents."

You're not even sure how it started, but you find yourself sitting across from Old Baba, a cup of warm tea in both your hand and hers as you tell her your life story.

"...and then I had to teach myself how to cook by myself, I was four!"

"Oh you poor thing, here, let Baba get you more tea."

She's the epitome of the kind old grandmother, not that you'd know given the fact that you don't have any grandparents on either side of the family. At least, not anymore.

There's just something about her that makes you feel comfortable. Maybe it's something in her vaguely slavic accent that reassures you, or maybe it's something else entirely.

"When my son, Alois, returned home from the war I was so happy to see him and the man he'd become! And then he introduced me to that gold digging whore he calls his wife, Miloslava." She nearly spits the name. "But, it was clear that he loved her as much as she loved the prestige that came from marrying him, so I gave my blessing. And besides," she pulls out a photo album from… somewhere and begins showing off pictures of about six or so grandchildren, "I got my lovely little grandbabies out of it and with Rod as my witness I wouldn't let Miloslava corrupt them!" Baba huffs, the witch stirring her tea cup as she thinks back to the mysterious 'war', which seems to change every time she mentions it. "But, as I was saying, if they're really your family they'll have to accept you." A dark and stormy look flashes over her face. "And if they don't…" She trails off, her point made.

"W-well, do you think we can get to the magic now?"

"Of course, dear."

(Magic Roll DC 40,60,80 (DC Increase countered by Old Baba): 59+10=69, double success, nice)
(Magic Roll DC 40,60,80 (DC Increase countered by Old Baba): 4+10=14, failure, yep, we're going with the first)
(28 more successes needed to get rid of Magically Inert)

~~~~~~~

Regardless of any feelings you have towards your parents, you don't want to meet them right away.

Which is why you are meeting someone else's parents.

Carol and Mike Mercer sit across from you in a coffee shop booth, the pair clutching a coffee of some kind in their nervous hands.

(Do the Mercers recognize you? 100, dear god they do)

"You're… Itzabella Williams, right? The singer and the daughter of Power Williams?" The father, Mike, asks as he leans forwards in the red booth.

The corner of your eye twitches, how the actual hell…? "How the actual hell?"

"We love your music!" Carol gushes, a smile splitting her face––her white teeth blinding in the light. "But… more importantly," she says more solemnly, "you're one of the people who saved our… our…" The mother across from you gulps, tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes.

"Our son." Mike finishes for her, a palm on her elbow and an arm around her shoulders. He takes a deep breath before continuing. "A-and we owe you a great, unconditional debt for this gift you've given us."

"Anything, anything at all!" Carol adds in.

"I-I'll remember that." You manage to get out before they smother you further in gratitude.

(You've got a favor from the Mercers, good for you! You can cash it in just about anytime you want for them to use their resources to your advantage as best they can.)

~~~~~~~

(Combat (Dagger) Training Roll DC 30,60,90: 57+10=67, double success)
Second roll:
(Combat (Dagger) Training Roll DC 30,60,90: 58+10=68, double success, lmao)

Your eyes widen a fraction as you feel cold, sharp steel against your neck.

"To answer your question," Damien remarks dryly as he holds the blade to your throat, "I think that you should do what you want regarding your parents."

"Gee, how helpful."

"I try."

(16 more successes needed)

~~~~~~~

Standing outside the front gate of your family's estate, you take a deep breath

Your finger hovers over the intercom, trembling before the grated button.

(Resolve Roll DC 85: 34+30=64, failure, how unfortunate)

You know what they're going to say to you. About how you've come crawling back to them, just like they knew you would. About how you're not fit to take care of yourself, even though that's all you've been doing for the past 23 years.

And you realize something: That you don't have to do this to yourself.

Pivoting on the asphalt, you stride away from the gated estate, a shadow following you all the way home.

(You failed this time, but next time you'll come back stronger than before)

~~~~~~~

Alrighty, time to select your next job.

[ ] A Case (More long form things, often over a long period of time, where you can do downtime activities while investigating)
-[ ] A Senator has received a threatening letter for daring to suggest legislation that limits the ability for super scientists to perform unethical human experimentation, your objective is to bring the letter writer to justice
-[ ] The Lady of the Lake's daughter has shown up on the Chicago shorefront, find out how she got there
-[ ] The exhibits in the Field Museum of Natural History have been coming to life, find out why
-[ ] Griffon eggs have been showing up on the black market and the only sources are in sanctuaries, put a stop to these poachers

Or

[ ] An Assignment (Shorter things, typically only a day or so in length)
-[ ] A man claims to have been abducted by aliens, find out if he's telling the truth
-[ ] Apparently, a woman's dog has turned into a fully fledged vampire lord, figure out what happened to this dog

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: Old Baba is, as always, a joy to write. Sucks about the resolve roll, though, but it is really, really hard to do the sort of thing that Itza was doing in the first place. Voting will be called tomorrow at 5 PM CST, thanks for watching!



Also, Elden Ring's out now, so, uh, I might be slow to update as it were

 

[I.F. Ister]

"Alright," Laura declares as she walks into the briefing room and slams a folder on the table. "You've got a weird one today."

"In what way?" You question as she sits down.

"In a doggy way." She replies as she cranks up her chair. "A woman, a Miss Claudia Berwitz, has reported a strange occurrence with her dog, Bill. It seems that Bill has, somehow, become a Vampire Lord." Bristle seems… a bit annoyed, heavy bags under her eyes and a short, curt rhythm of speech.

Your eyebrows rise to the top of your head as you flip open the folder and look at the pictures within––which seem to have been taken by Miss Berwitz herself. The first photo in the bunch is of a happy-looking mutt of a dog, silky brown fur brushed by his smiling owner as he pants, tongue lolling from his mouth. The next is of the same situation, in fact the photos seem to have been taken mere seconds apart, the owner's kneeling next to the dog and the dog… well, instead of the delightful dog in the previous picture is instead a bat-winged bipedal humanoid monster with extremely pale skin, triangular ears, a maw full of jagged teeth, and beady red eyes. The lolling tongue is still there though, even if now it's much thinner and not drooling nearly as much slobber as before.

"That's Bill, the victim of today's oddity." Bristle sighs, taking off her glasses and rubbing at her tired eyes. "Go, for the love of all that's not an asshole, and please do your…" She waves her hands somewhat dismissively as she yawns. "Investigation bullshit, or whatever it is you do."

"Uh, are you okay?" You ask as Damien leans back with his eyes closed, smoke lazily spiraling from the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"I've been up since 1 fucking AM cleaning my house of fucking werehamster corpses! I don't even know how they got in, or even how they died!" She exclaims as you slowly back away. "Do I look okay!?"

The Senior Handler takes a moment to compose herself, breathing in and out deeply. "I'm sorry, that was unprofessional of me." She slumps slightly, sighing heavily. "Just, get to work. The address is in the folder, Bill doesn't seem to be hostile, and dog treats have been provided."

"Uh, I may have some questions…" You say, trailing off as Laura stares at the ceiling, a begging look on her face. She sighs, like the weight of the world is on her shoulders before she gestures for you to continue.

"Fine, lets hear 'em."

Any questions?
[ ] Write in (all questions asked will be answered)

~~~~~~~

"So, a dog that's a Vampire Lord." You remark as you and Damien grab your loadouts. You don't really think that there's going to be trouble there, but Vampire Lords tend to have a bad habit of attracting normal leeches to them like flies to, well, dog poop. "That's kinda weird."

"It's the job." Damien replies, grabbing a box of stakes from a crate. "Get used to it."

"So, Vampires, are there any weapons here that we can use to combat them? Well, besides stakes and holy water." You question Damien, who's grabbing several bottles of holy water.

A dry, boney voice answers your question as Andy appears from behind you, carrying a box of things as the glowing lights in his otherwise empty eye sockets stare at you. "You're in luck, we just got a new shipment of anti-bloodsucker weapons from CopperCorp."

CopperCorp is one of the 'metallic companies', the top 5 names in companies that specialize in super science. Compared to them, Willpower, your 'father's' company is but a drop in the bucket. Well, that might be a bit of an exaggeration as Willpower is quite successful, ranking #7 on the list of super science companies. One thing that's interesting to note about the Metallics is that they're all run by Djinn.

"We also finally got the potions lab back up and running after that explosion a while back." He remarks as he sets the box of potions, according to the label, down on the ground. You grimace, you remember hearing about that while you were preparing for the final exam. It's good that they're available again, though. "Though… well, the selection isn't great right now."

With that, you turn to your gear.

[ ] Current Loadout (Service Pistol, Service Knife, Handcuffs, Investigation Equipment, Lockpicks, Rubber Gloves, Evidence Baggies, One MSB 10 Can, Infragoggles, Cutter Rounds)
+In the car: 2 flashbang, prybar, 2 MSB 10, 3 Anti-Plant Spray, tool kit, first-aid kit and candies if allowed.

Or you can choose from here. Same rules as last time.

Spoiler: Equipment Options (Please vote by plan)

Explosives
[ ] AP Grenade (2 Piercing Damage, Strips Armor, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Fragmentation Grenade (7 Piercing Damage, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Flashbang (Blinds+Deafens, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Smoke Grenade (Obscures, Thrown, Small Item)
-[ ] Incense Grenade (Obscures, Holy, Thrown, Small Item)
-[ ] Tear Gas Grenade (Blinds+Chokes+Obscures, Thrown, Small Item)
-[ ] Iron Shavings Grenade (Obscures, Damages Fey, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Holy Water Grenade (Holy, Splashes, Thrown, Small Item)
[ ] Breaching Charge (12 Explosion Damage, Opens locked doors/walls/floors/ceilings, Planted, Small Item)

Ranged Weapons
[ ] Service Pistol (3 Piercing Damage, AP 1, Ranged, 1/2 Hands, Small Item)
[ ] Service Revolver (4 Piercing Damage, AP 2, Close-Ranged, 1/2 Hands, Small Item)
[ ] Service Carbine (4 Piercing Damage, AP 2, Repeating 1, Ranged, 2 Hands, Medium Item)
[ ] Service Shotgun (5 Piercing Damage, AP 2, Close-Ranged, 2 Hands, Medium Item)
[ ] Service Rifle (6 Piercing Damage, AP 3, Long-Ranged, Slow-Firing, 2 Hands, Medium-Large Item)
[ ] Service LMG (5 Piercing Damage, AP 2, Repeating 3, Ranged, 2 Hands, Heavy, Medium-Large Item)
[ ] Service SMG (3 Piercing Damage, AP 1, Repeating 2, Ranged, 2 Hands, Medium Item)
[ ] Stake Launcher (2 Piercing Damage, AP 2, Anti-Vampire, Needs Stakes, 2 Hands, Medium Item)

Melee Weapons
[ ] Service Knife (3 Slashing/Stabbing Damage, Melee, Concealable, 1 Hand, Small Item)
[ ] Service Baton (3 Bludgeoning Damage, Melee, Concealable, 1/2 Hands, Small Item)
[ ] CopperCorp Chopper (4 Chopping Damage, AP 1, Melee, 2 Hands, Medium Item)
[ ] Stake (1 Piercing Damage, Anti-Vampire, Melee, 1/2 Hands, Small Item)

Tools
[ ] Handcuffs (Restraining, Anti-Magic, Tiny Item)
[ ] Investigation Equipment (Allows for closer inspection than what may be possible normally, Tiny Item)
[ ] Prybar (Allows for forcing open locks or jammed things, Medium Item)
[ ] Lockpicks (Allows picking of locks, Tiny Item)
[ ] Rubber Gloves (Sterile, Tiny Item)
[ ] Evidence Baggies (Sterile, 6 Uses, Anti-Magic, Small Item)
[ ] Ammo Pouch (Can be spent to reload a gun on a critical fail, Tiny Item)
[ ] Big Ammo Pouch (Can be spent to reload a gun on a critical fail, 3 Uses, Small Item)
[ ] Medpack (Allows for stabilizing wounded people, 2 Uses, Small Item)
[ ] Garlic Rub (Rub on your skin to hide your scent from those that can smell blood, Tiny Item)
[ ] Coma Inducer (Inject this into something to put it into a coma, 1 Use, Tiny Item)
[ ] Cigarettes (Calms your nerves and soothes your mind, +1d4 Mental Health, 10 Uses, Tiny Item)
[ ] Lighter (Lights things on fire, Tiny Item)

Potions
[ ] Vial of Healing (Heals 2d4 Physical Health, 1 Use, Tiny Item)
[ ] Potion of Healing (Heals 2d4 Physical Health, 2 Uses, Small Item)
[ ] Vial of Anti-Minor Poison (Cures most minor poisons, 1 Use, Tiny Item)
[ ] Potion of Anti-Minor Poison (Cures most minor poisons, 2 Uses, Small Item)
[ ] Vial of Dark Vision (Allows you to see in the dark as if it were light, 1 Use, Tiny Item)
[ ] Potion of Dark Vision (Allows you to see in the dark as if it were light, 2 Uses, Small Item)
[ ] De-Fang Potion (A potion that cures Vampirism as long as it hasn't progressed too far, 2 Uses, Small Item)

Personal
[ ] Write in (Pick from your Creations)

~~~~~~~

GM's Note: Short, I know, but there's really not much more to say in this one. Voting will be called tomorrow at 5 PM CST, thanks for all the interaction!



Cane guy, why