I kept my new powers hidden, though. For starters, Dad had already gone through too many shocks in a few days. Also, I had the inkling he would try to get me into the Wards: while he had a healthy dislike of the government from their complete lack of action to help the city, I could see him wanting me to be safe, and as far as people were concerned, the only place where teenage Parahumans could be safe was the Wards (I had heard about the average Parahuman only lasting six months as an independent, but I did not know how true that statistic was).
No, better to keep him out of the loop until I could fully protect myself and him. And yes, I was perfectly aware of how hypocritical it was of me to do that again, but at least this instance I could say it was a matter of life and death.
For the moment, though, that would take a backseat for tonight's quest: a graveyard raid. No deceased people would be disturbed, though: only the animals that populated the Boat Graveyard. Literal tones of ship-grade steel were there for the taking, along with all other stuff that had been abandoned there.
However, there was something else I would have to deal with: the Protectorate and the gangs were rumored to keep an eye in the place over any Cape that did exactly what I was going to do. I'd have to make sure to avoid the former, and the latter... well, hopefully I would be able to avoid them as well.
And, just in case I could not, I picked the darkest clothes I had in my wardrobe and applied a spell on them that made it as good as leather armor. I could fashion myself a weapon on the go if required.
The plan for the raid was quite simple.
First, I had to find a car and turn it into a horse-pulled cart.
Then, pile in everything I wanted. Lots of steel, certainly, but also things like engines or computer parts.
When I filled the car, summon several horses and have them pull from the cart, with a boost in the form of magic.
Finally, open a gate to Haven and lead the horses through.
I did not plan for something more specific because I knew there was a chance something would go askew, but I thought I was reasonably prepared for any possibility.
With the certainty that I was ready, and that Dad was asleep, I concentrated on the Boat Graveyard and cast a spell.
Immediately, the comforting surroundings of my room were replaced with a large expanse, full of huge mounds of metal, and barely illuminated by the waxing moon in the sky. My natural fear of the darkness fought against the instincts Habristiel's memories had granted me, but I was able to remain calm and began to look around (and made a note to improve my glasses so I could see in the dark).
It was only a few minutes later that I found an old car: given that the only thing remaining was the bodywork and the floor: someone had likely abandoned it after stealing it for the important pieces. I only had to add a bit more to turn into a large, sturdy cart, capable of holding a sizeable quantity of materials.
My search began. One of the first things I found was a lot of old computer parts that I could either turn into a computer for myself or just take for the materials (there might actually be gold in there), and after that a couple of engines and assorted car parts that had been tossed aside because they were broken. A few old tires went into the pile. Most of what I found, though, was steel, mostly plates ripped from ships and car body parts: I planned to use it for the core of my workshop.
All in all, it took me an hour and a half to fill the cart. By then, I was shaking from both the effort of pulling and throwing heavy stuff and the cold – I had stupidly forgotten to throw in some environmental protection and didn't realize it until it was not worth it – so I took a short break and moved my limbs to both warm myself up and loosen up, before I went back to Haven.
"Yeah, saw some'un 'ere movin' stuff! 'e's a Tinker, Skidmark will pay us a boatload o' money fo' one o' those!"
Oh, great. A bunch of morons had just arrived to ruin my day. Or, at least, try to. Given the ridiculous name they had mentioned, they were likely members of a Parahuman-led gang.
And now I had to deal with the fact that I could not get out of here without calling more attention.
Which meant I had to fight. At least, it would serve as a good test of my new fighting skills.
It was a pity that I could not choose how to debut, but beggars could not be choosers.
Quickly, I grabbed a large steel tube I had just dropped into the cart and let my power loose.
"Give form to my creation!"
As I flared up, the tube began to twist and change form, screeching as it did so, until it became a sword almost identical to the one Habristiel used. It was mostly functional, and bereft of the touches that separated it from a great quality weapon, but it was all I needed now.
"What th' 'ell is that shoutin'?"
"Who the fuck cares!"
"Weapon of power and mercy!" The second spell made the sword shine brightly, and now it would not cause lethal injuries to those it hurt, unless I lifted the restriction.
"Can 'ear 'im, jus' righ' th're!"
If it were not for the fact that I was busy making my weapon, I would have been angry that the idiot thought I was a guy. He had likely taken too many drugs to actually be able to notice the difference.
I had enough time to cast one more spell, but I decided to save the power for better things: I was reasonably armed and armored, and now I just had to wait.
About five seconds later, six men turned a corner and entered a path that led to the small clearing I had created. Even now, I could see they did not belong to either of Brockton Bay's main gangs: they were of a mix of races, they wore disheveled clothes and they only carried a couple of pipe lengths and a few knives.
They were clearly drug addicts prowling the place to get enough cash to pay for their next fix.
I felt a bit sad that I would have to fight with people that had fallen, willingly or not, into drug addiction. For all I knew, they were innocent people that had simply made a wrong choice and were unable to return to the path of light. I could cleanse them, restore their health, give them something that could help them turn back into a normal life... but I did not have the means to ensure it stuck, or to prevent a gang from preying on them.
Yet.
"What the fuck?" one of them asked. "Why is that sword fuckin' shinin'?"
"Who gives a damn! It's a girl! Betcha we can have some good time wit' 'er, and then Skidmark will get us the good stuff!" another said, giving me what he probably thought was a lewd look.
I marked down that particular dumbass for an upgrade in my shit list – which meant he was at the top of the 'in front of me' sub-shitlist. The only regret I could summon now was that I did not have notebook and pen, if only so I could force him to write down what he had said and make him eat his words. All I had now was a sword, so he would have to eat steel, instead.
The six addicts charged at me without any sort of order or planning, screaming nonsense and likely thinking my gender or their numerical superiority would make me easy prey. I would have to teach them not to underestimate people.
Mentally measuring the distance between them and me, the moment they were within forty feet of me I burned some power and rushed ahead, covering the entire distance in a second. Despite myself, I inwardly grinned at their dumbstruck faces when they realized I was suddenly too close.
"FUC-" one of them shouted, but he was the one closest to me, so I just slashed through his torso. He was out like a light a second later. I followed with more swings, and two of the others fell with their friend just then. Unfortunately, I swung a little too fast after that and the next attack did not connect, leaving me with three addicts to deal with.
Said addicts were stunned by my quick response, but they also recovered fast and were not in the mood for anything else.
"BITCH!" the guy that had suggested raping me screamed, swinging his length of pipe at me. However, his attack was so obvious that I barely had to make the effort to deflect it with my sword. The guy with a knife followed with a stab, but my hoodie stopped it dead. The last one just tried to punch me, and it went so offside that I could quickly counter with another slash. The guy with the knife went down next, and suddenly the wanna-be-rapist was left alone, to consider that, perhaps, he may have made a mistake.
I forewent my sword and kicked him straight into the groin.
My target promptly dropped his pipe, cupped his injured parts, and dropped to the ground. It looked like he was in so much pain that he could not even muster the strength to scream: instead, all he did was to whimper. I let him stew over for a while before I decided to be merciful and hit him again with my sword, knocking him out in the process.
Of course, now I would have to make it so these six idiots would not go blabbing to everyone and their mother about me, so I could not just leave and pray for them to forget everything.
Killing them was out of the question: not only was it unheroic, since I could not be certain they had done something to deserve it (even the dumbass), but dealing with the bodies would be a mess and a half.
However... there was this spell Sanae used – something that could meddle with memories. I just needed to replace a couple of minutes' worth of memories from each – just enough to make them think they had not seen anything.
By the time I was done, they would all remember that one of them thought he had heard something, but then they had reached an empty clearing, and they had decided to share some 'special stuff' they had gotten off someone else in the gang. After that, I rounded it up with them having some psychedelic visions before falling asleep.
Alright, I may have also given the one I had kicked a few memories of him daring the others to attack him. Petty, but I had to explain any traces of pain somehow.
Blanketing the lot of them with a spell that would keep them warm for a few hours – same principle as before, I did not want them to die – I returned to my work, which was finally done. With a few words of power, I got ready to summon horses – hopefully, they would be enough to pull the cart.
That was when a large bird of prey landed on top of the cart, her wings flapping as she stood atop a plank of steel and gripped its edge to remain in place... and looked at me.
It seriously reminded me of Suruher.
As I realized I was facing an actual, honest-to-god, bald eagle, I wondered two things.
The first was that I could tell the eagle was female, even though I had only seen her for a second or two.
The second was... why would an eagle enter the city? I was not up to date with the behavior of animals, but I was certain that large birds of prey were not the type to enter anything larger than a town. I was not even certain that bald eagles nested anywhere in the region.
But, in spite of those questions, there was something... there, at the back of my mind... it was hard to explain. You know that feeling of having music for so long in the background that you only notice it when it goes missing? It felt the other way for me: that there had been a wall of silence for so long that I had not noticed it existed until this eagle had bashed through the wall and landed in front of me.
I raised my left arm, and the eagle jumped from the pile of metal to my forearm, still looking at me. I caressed her chest, and she answered by giving me a gentle peck to my head.
"You and I are going to be good friends, right?" I asked, smiling. "What is your name?"
Through the link that had sprung between us, I felt something akin to an acknowledgement that she had no name – and that she was willing to allow me to give her one. As long as it did not sound stupid, that is.
"Well, then, I'll have to give you a good name, then. I won't have my friend carry a name that makes her a mockery target," I said, and silently asked the eagle to move to my shoulder so I could finish the job. In short order, three pearly white steeds stood right in position to pull the cart, and with a mental command they began to walk into the gate I opened to my demiplane.
Sheesh, I had a lot of work ahead of my life with all the stuff I just got.
1.a. FlightMonday January 10th 2011, 7:37 AM, Protectorate ENE Headquarters, Brockton Bay, New Hampshire, United States of America, Earth Bet
Ethan was not happy.
This is the worst thing about being a Protectorate Hero, he thought. The meetings.
Not that he believed them to be useless. Meetings were important in ensuring people shared relevant information, information that could either fit puzzle pieces together or provide solutions to problems one person alone could not solve. They could be used for brainstorming in case of need, touch base with your fellows if you hadn't done so already, and in a pinch it could also be used to needle the anal-retentive among them and get them out of their state.
Meetings could also have good things. Like the one where he had met with the Protectorate after he was finally captured. Since his adventures as Madcap had always ensured that injuries were reduced to a minimum and no fatalities, he had been offered the chance to rebrand. He really was not keen on seeing the interior of a prison – the place he had kept many out of – so he had taken the offer – and, as a boon, he had even managed to stay in the same team as Battery!
In hindsight, he may have been a tad too eager in approaching the woman that had been his main rival during his villain phase, and maybe his eagerness caused her to file multiple – and, to be honest, quite deserved – harassment complaints. But, hell, in the end it had all worked out, and now he had the right to call her Puppy when they were alone.
All of that, though, did not make up for the main reason he disliked meetings.
It was so... boring.
He did not know how they worked out in the rest of the US, but, here in Brockton Bay, he could recite them by rote.
Piggot walks in, angry at whatever thing and still in obvious need of medical treatment, and making everyone wonder why she kept insisting that she did not need Panacea's touch.
Armsmaster makes a suggestion. It may be actually useful, or it may just be another attempt to 'increase efficiency' in his usual style. Either way, quite probably shot down – no time, no resources, no nothing.
Reports on fights between the gangs, stopped from going overboard by the quick appearance of any of the Protectorate Capes, or maybe by Glory Girl – which sometimes brought its own set of problems, given the latter's... let's call it enthusiasm for fighting.
Someone points out that the Protectorate East North East does not have anywhere close to the people they need to actually deal with the Brockton Bay gangs, and Piggot complains that the other departments are all 'thoughts and prayers' but never willing to actually help put an end to the problem.
The Wards complain from something through any of the group. Lately, the biggest cause of complaint has been Shadow Stalker, who, from the little he had seen, was a piece of work who seemed to have only two objectives in life, pissing everyone off and playing 'lone wolf'. Unfortunately for the kids, their little edgelord was not going to be leaving any time soon, barring another mess that would give Piggot reason to kick her to the curb or forcibly transfer her to another department.
Another complaint from Piggot about the lack of resources ignored by the rest of the Protectorate.
Really, they could just set up one of those old cassette recorders and let it do most of the job. That way he would have been able to sleep in with Puppy.
Today, though, there was something new at around two thirds of the meeting.
"Are there any issues of importance that may have happened last night?" Piggot asked.
"I have something," Dauntless said. "A report from the BBPD."
"The BBPD? What have they found that could involve us?" Miss Militia asked.
"Apparently, last night they found a situation that made them suspect Parahuman involvement, but they can't tell how far it may have gone... so, they sent the report to us so we could check it up and see if we could find the truth."
"Well, let's hear it. What does that report say?" Piggot asked, clearly not liking the fact that something involving parahumans had happened in Brockton Bay without her knowledge.
"At about 2:30 AM, a patrol of dockworkers was checking on a warning of noises in the Boat Graveyard when they found six members of a gang that calls itself the Archer's Bridge Merchants, all of them normal people, unconscious. They called the police and kept an eye on the Merchants, but none of them woke up until they were put into a police van. When they were interrogated, they all claimed they had gone there on a whim and got high on something they had in hand, and they fell asleep."
"What's so special about that? Not the first time something like that has happened," Velocity accurately pointed out.
"They sent tests to the labs, and whatever drug they took, either it is rare enough that it doesn't show in the tests, works fast enough through the body that it cannot be detected or... or they just didn't actually take anything, because the only traces they found were from about half a day from the moment they were found, and they had been there at best for a couple of hours."
"Considering the stuff the gangs get up to, I wouldn't be surprised if it was the former," he said, deciding to put in his two cents. "But I'm betting that that's not the only thing the cops found, because no way they said 'Capes were here' based just on a drug test."
"Surprisingly, you're right," Dauntless fired back with a small grin. "When the Merchants were being put into the van, a few BBPD officers checked the grounds and noticed quite a few things. There was stuff that had been clearly moved around, holes in the ground that had previously had something, and... hoof marks on the ground that stop showing up in the middle of a clearing."
"Hoof marks?" Piggot asked, bemused.
"Horses, in fact. And a pair of wheels that fit the profile of a four-wheeled cart."
The table fell silent as they tried to process what they had just heard.
"A cart and horses? How... ancient," Velocity commented.
"People still use carts and horses in the country, I would hardly say it is ancient," Armsmaster replied, ever the nitpicker.
"I don't care if it is ancient or from the twenty-fifth century, the important thing is that it showed out of nowhere, in the middle of the Boat Graveyard and in the middle of the night," Piggot interrupted. "You said that the marks disappeared somewhere?"
"It's like there was some kind of transport ready to pick up the horses and the cart, but there's nothing that indicates there was actually a vehicle. The tracks simply end there."
"If Christmas hadn't ended two weeks ago, I'd be calling this proof that Santa exists," he added, grinning, as his Puppy hit him in the shoulder while most of the others gave him the usual 'bad-joke' look.
"Never mind that, there is another Parahuman in this city, and we need to find them before any of the gangs do that. Now, what ratings should be assigned?"
"It's likely to be a Tinker," Armsmaster said. "The Boat Graveyard contains large amounts of raw materials and other things free for the taking. Whoever did this, they probably intend to use them for a project, and they also likely built that cart in place. Possibly another vehicle-based Tinker, like Squealer."
"Based on that, I would probably suggest some low-rating Mover," Triumph suggested.
"I don't like saying this, but I'm going to say Master, and not a low rating," he said, and everyone looked at him, surprised.
"Why? And why so high?" Ms Militia asked.
"In the first place, the horse hooves. That implies that the new cape either crafted some sort of mechanical horses out of what they found in the Graveyard, or summoned them out of nothing. In both cases, they kept the horses under control, since they clearly pulled the cart without making a fuss.
"And then... those gang members claimed they had taken drugs, but they didn't seem to actually have done so. If they fought our new club member, either they can make people hallucinate some rather realistic things, or the gang members saw them and the cape has the ability to modify memories. And, in the latter case, they were able to knock six people out without leaving any visible or lasting injuries." He noticed everyone was giving weird looks, and he shrugged. "Hey, I look at things, you know! I just thought about it and it made sense! Whoever did that, they're good enough for us to work with!"
"I... agree," Piggot said. It felt like she was pulling a tooth by admitting it, so he marked it down as a victory. Perhaps he should write on it in his diary. He would have to start writing a diary for that, though.
"However, there is a problem with that idea," Piggot continued. "We have nothing about this new Cape. All we have is half a dozen drug addicts that didn't take any drugs, a few tracks on the ground that lead nowhere, and some missing things that no one will give a damn about."
"Regardless, we must find them. A competent Tinker can be a force multiplier by themselves. If this Parahuman can also fight multiple people on their own without hurting them, it would be a boon. And the ability to modify memories must be kept under heavy control. They cannot be allowed to fall into a gang, or the balance of power in this city will be offset."
As always, Armsmaster was able to point out the obvious thing everyone was thinking about. Not that he was not wrong. Piggot sighed.
"Very well. Everyone, when you are on patrol, and even when you aren't, keep an eye for anything that may lead to this new Parahuman. If you find them while in uniform, do your best to convince them to join the Protectorate, but don't push it, I'd rather recruit them later than see them joining a gang because of a dumb mistake. And Armsmaster, that means you better double check everything you say."
The Tinker grumbled, but jerkily nodded. Ethan thought he was a good worker and partner, but he had all the manner of a particularly prickly cactus: he could see him drive someone into joining a gang or becoming an independent villain just by being his 'charming' self.
"Alright, any idea on how to name this Parahuman? I'd rather not keep using 'them'."
"I think Auriga could be a good one," Velocity suggested. "They control horses, built a cart. Fits somewhat."
"Good enough to work on an internal basis until we get something definite," Piggot agreed. "Armsmaster, as a Tinker, what do you think will be Auriga's next step?"
"If they follow the same pattern as most Tinkers? Auriga will use what they found to craft their first inventions. With no knowledge on what they can do, I can only presume that Auriga's portfolio consists of non-motored vehicle construction and propulsion, but it is likely to go further. Based on the estimations made of what was taken, I would agree that they will be able to work for two weeks before running out, but, of course, it depends on what projects they are doing. When that happens, either they will return to the Graveyard or they will present what they can do, giving us the opportunity to speak with them. Precluding, of course, the idea that they join us before that date."
"If they didn't do it before yesterday, I don't think they will soon," the Director groaned, "but it's the best timetable we can get. As I said, keep an eye for anything that leads to Auriga. If we try to search actively, we might as well throw darts while blindfolded."
"Hey, maybe we can do that with a map and see if Auriga shows where the darts land," he joked. Battery planted her elbow into his gut, and everyone just ignored his funny joke.
Ugh, tough room. He really had to work on it.
--
7:57 AM, Office, Secret Bunker Under Commercial District
Sometimes, having to live a dual life was quite the mess. Keeping things separate was complicated, even with his power.
It still did not mean he could not get any enjoyment out of it, of course.
For example, hearing the news about a possible new Cape in Brockton Bay was always good news. Particularly if it was not one that had already joined the gangs or the Protectorate. If that was the case, he could easily make them an offer they could not reject and wait for them to accept their new position in his organization. If they were to join the Protectorate, it would not take long to find their identity and apply some pressure to turn them into a mole. If it was another gang... that would be slightly harder to deal with, but still feasible. Just follow them with a particular someone, and if they did not have any protections, a gun to the head or a threat towards their loved ones could easily make them pick the correct choice.
People in the Internet may crow about the 'unwritten rules', but in the end, the only true rule in the world was 'might makes right'. And since he had one very mighty power at his disposal, it was only right that he was the one in charge. With his ability to split the timeline in two, he could easily find which decision would be most profitable for his plans and then drop the timeline he disliked.
It was how he had 'convinced' his pet Tattletale that he would always know what she was doing: calling ten coin tosses in a row and being right all the time made quite the impression, as was the fact that he always learned when she was trying to escape. Torture was an amazing way of learning someone's secrets, particularly when said torture happened in a disposable timeline he always got rid of.
It still was not enough to keep the girl from trying, but her attempts were almost predictable by this point.
Going back to the current issue, he wanted to follow on that and plan how to deal with his future asset. However, there was a problem with that: he had nothing about them. Identity, appearance, powers, nothing. The only clear thing was that they were a Tinker with possibly a Master power over mechanical devices. Independently of that, though, they would make a good force multiplier for his mercenaries. It was just a matter of applying it correctly.
He thought about having Tattletale investigate the matter, but he knew it would not do any good. First, because there was literally nothing about this new Cape that could be useful for Tattletale to find their identity. And second, because she was already busy trying to find the identities of the Empire 88 Capes and acting as his contact with the Undersiders. He felt magnanimous in her just having those two tasks to deal with, although the moment the new Cape showed up, he would have no problem in setting her on it.
Sooner or later, the Cape would be his. And then the city.
--
9:06 AM, Floor 20, Medhall Corporation Headquarters
Max Anders had an enigma in his hands, and he was unsure that it was worth the effort to seek an answer.
His moles in the police had reported a strange incident that had taken place in the Boat Graveyard, the representation of the disease that kept this town the way it was. Six drug addicts had been found there, asleep, and had claimed they had been taking drugs, but nothing had been found, save for a number of strange tracks on the ground.
Which smelled of a new Cape in town. Given the signs, a new one, who had vanished from the place as quickly as they had appeared. No clue to gender, age, or, most importantly, race. If this Cape was of the proper features, then they could be inducted into his organization, either by word or by force. If they were not... well, better not to let such a weapon fall in hands of the Protectorate or the other gangs.
Not that he cared much about that: the trappings of putting non-whites down and forcing them to accept their proper station in life was mostly a means to keep control over the easily duped masses. For him, what mattered was power and how to attain it.
In his civilian life, he did it through his ownership of Medhall Corporation, Brockton Bay's largest employer since the death of industrial shipping. This allowed him to use the soft power of economy to slowly bind the city to his will.
In his secret life as Kaiser, he did it through his subjects and his Capes, with whom he controlled a fairly large part of town. He may have to pay lip service to those bastards of Gesellschaft from time to time, but they did not get much involved in his internal affairs.
Here, he reigned supreme... or he would, if it weren't for that blasted slant-eyed dragon that kept a good part of the city under its oversized claw. It was all a delicate balance of power between his Empire, Lung's rabble and the so-called forces of law, with a few minor gangs spread around town, like Coil or those Archer's Bridge Merchants.
He had the numbers to put down the slant-eyes, easily, but Lung himself was a different beast, literally: considering its power, the only way to stop it was to overwhelm it with raw power before it ramped too much, power which unfortunately he did not have right now. With Purity leaving (although he was certain she would eventually return) he had just enough to hold the beast off and make it return to its den.
If he acquired that new Cape for his Empire, maybe he would finally have the power to take the town for himself. Even better, going by where the encounter had taken place, this Cape was likely a Tinker, one that would benefit him even more thanks to his ample available resources. Perhaps he might not even have to force the issue: the Cape might just join for the sake of supplies to tinker with.
The decision had already been made. It was just a matter of who to choose for the task. He picked up his phone and made a call.
"Hello?"
"It's me."
"Mister Anders?" Hmm, interesting. He would not use that name unless he were in 'polite company'. He would have to choose his words with care, in case someone was listening.
"I have heard news of some special resources that need your delicate touch." Hah. He knew Zachary would be laughing about that. 'Delicate touch' was not something he ever did. "Please, come by my office at midday, I'll give you more information on them."
"I'll be there, sir," he replied, and Max hung up.
He would not count the chickens before they hatched, but he still envisioned what this new Tinker might be able to do.
And how it would benefit him.
--
9:32 AM, Kenta's Den
For Kenta, the day started much like every other day did: coming out of his personal gymnasium after his morning training.
He knew his rivals saw him as a lazy dragon, reclined over his treasure in order to protect it from thieves, lazing about while his subordinates did the hard work.
Let them think that. It suited his purposes for them to believe him staying the day lying on a recliner while watching television or eating.
He sometimes did that, but never too much. His power may be just behind Scion and the Endbringers, but it still took him time to gather the strength to overwhelm other capes. Getting to that point required strength by itself, which he could not gain unless he trained every day. It was not the thrill of an actual fight, but it did what was expected: keeping him ready for any threat to his position.
"Lung-sama?" a flat voice said as he dried himself off with a towel. No need to be surprised, or in guard: this was Oni Lee, his most trusted lieutenant, trusted because he had no ambitions beyond serving and because he was a very good fighter. Granted, he was not fully trusted, because he could never tell what he was actually thinking, but more trusted than most others, those who had to be kept under control through fear.
"Is there any business that must be considered, Lee?"
"A minor matter, Lung-sama. The local police believes a new Cape may have appeared in the city."
"May?"
"The only signs of this Cape's actions is a group of addicts being found in the Boat Graveyard with no drugs in their bodies and tracks of hooves in the ground. When I heard of this, I moved to see with my own eyes, and I noticed that several objects were moved from their place, as well as said tracks, which seem to stop at some point in the middle of a clearing."
A new Cape? Interesting. While he was strong enough to deal with any number of Capes on his own, he would welcome another in his fold – as long as he was willing to submit to the dragon, of course. It would not do for someone to think they could cut him off at the knees: it would be wasted time for them both and make others think he could not keep what belonged to him under control.
He would still have to consider how to prevent other gangs or the Protectorate from acquiring this Cape's services. It would be a nuisance, but sometimes even a nuisance was worth the effort to be dealt with if it were to prevent greater irritation.
"Lee, have the men seek whoever just appeared. Be discreet, no need to let the skinhead scum know of our interest on the new Cape. Should you encounter him, recruit him. If he rejects our offer, dispose of him."
"I will, Lung-sama." And Oni Lee walked into the corner, vanishing in the cloud of ash left behind by his dead clone. Lung sighed. He wished his subordinate was a little keener, if only so he could find a way to clean up behind himself: having to deal with his ashes every time he left was quite repetitive. At least, he left from the corner assigned for that task, making it easier to collect and dispose of them.
He left the gymnasium room for his office, intent on reviewing the gains made in the past day, and putting the matter of the new Cape at the back of his mind.
It would soon blow off, either in his favor or no one else's.Last edited: 1/5/2023Like Award Quote Reply139Milarqui1/5/2023Reader modeNewAdd bookmark Threadmarks Baran31/5/2023Add bookmark#44You know...
All those idiots are acting as if they were royalties...
Well, it's appropriate with a Pathfinder setting.
It's been a while since I played, but Taylor's build can do the old "scry and die", right?Like Award Quote Reply15VhenRaMechWarriorShe/Her1/5/2023Add bookmark#45Baran3 said:It's been a while since I played, but Taylor's build can do the old "scry and die", right?
Clerics don't have teleport... I suppose if she was willing to burn a bunch of 9th level spell slots to cast multiple gate spells...
Oh right. Travel Domain. I keep forgetting about domain spells.Like Award Quote Reply6MilarquiEl Bloguero de Historia Alternativa1/5/2023Add bookmark#46VhenRa said:Clerics don't have teleport... I suppose if she was willing to burn a bunch of 9th level spell slots to cast multiple gate spells...
Oh right. Travel Domain. I keep forgetting about domain spells.Click to expand...Also, Domain Power AND Mythic Power (which she can use to cast any spell she knows as a quick action).Like Award Quote Reply4MilarquiEl Bloguero de Historia Alternativa1/5/2023Add bookmark#47Baran3 said:You know...
All those idiots are acting as if they were royalties...
Well, it's appropriate with a Pathfinder setting.
It's been a while since I played, but Taylor's build can do the old "scry and die", right?Click to expand...Gang leaders not thinking themselves the toughest kids in the block would be absurd. No need even for the Pathfinder setting, it's the same thing in canon.
They're going to discover that the world is bigger than they thought. And then they'll learn how much a sword can hurt even if it only makes non-lethal damage.
As for "scry and die", yeah, she can. The only issue would be that the teleportation would have to be handled via Domain Magic (teleport and greater teleport) or a Miracle, because Clerics don't get teleport spells (save for interplanetary teleport, and that's a Level 9 spell, so completely overkill).Last edited: 1/5/2023Like Award Quote Reply7Baran31/5/2023Add bookmark#48Milarqui said:he only issue would be that the teleportation would have to be handled via Domain Magic (teleport and greater teleport) or a Miracle, because Clerics don't get teleport spells (save for interplanetary teleport, and that's a Level 9 spell, so completely overkill).Click to expand...What about summoning a creature able to cast teleport?Like Award Quote ReplyPrince ChromPrince of Ylisse1/5/2023Add bookmark#49Milarqui said:(save for interplanetary teleport, and that's a Level 9 spell, so completely overkill)Which feels strange because the only thing it does better than Greater Teleport is that it lets you go to a place you haven't seen, but Scrying handles that fairly easily.Like Award Quote ReplyMilarquiEl Bloguero de Historia Alternativa1/5/2023Add bookmark#50Baran3 said:What about summoning a creature able to cast teleport?There's only two creatures that (a) Taylor would be able to summon and (b) can teleport (the vanth psychopomp and the Ghaele Azata), and both can only teleport themselves. Using gate to bring in a creature that can teleport her would be unnecessary, as the cost of 1 Gate + whatever the creature wants is much bigger than just using Miracle.