David Henderson: A Night Out

[Zilant]

The storm last night was pretty severe. While there were no reports of Tornados or Waterspouts, the straight-line winds knocked down trees and power lines and damaged storefronts and roofs and even flipped over a couple of trailers. As a result, there have been crews out all day...and a lot of traffic snarls where power outages to traffic lights have intersected with drivers who are in a hurry and do not respect the rule that says to treat such lights as a four-way stop.

David is with one of the many work crews, the landscaping company has a contract with the city to help out on such emergencies. The larger trees are being cut up using saws and lifted in sections onto trucks to be hauled away using a crane with a hook. David is not a skilled climber, so he is not one of those being sent up into trees to finish cutting down broken limbs. He is working on the ground with a chain saw chopping logs part of the time, and is gathering and hauling limbs when he is not on the saw.

When everyone breaks for lunch, conversation turns to how quickly the work is being done, except a few isolated power outages everything is supposed to be done by 5:00 PM.

One of the others mentions that a third is getting married soon and that they were planning a Bachelor Party tonight, finishing with, "...so if we are off duty on schedule we re all going to meet at the Hush for the party. Remember, the rest of us all chip in to buy dances for the poor sod, to show him what he will be missing from now on. I hear tell they have the prettiest dancer in the state there...and the rest are not bad either."

One of the others asks David if he is coming.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d20+3 = 8
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 10 / 1d100 = 66


All in all, it's been a good day so far.

Looking at it objectively, there had been a kickass storm in the wee hours of the morning that had been fascinating to watch; Dave had always been enthralled by strong weather events, they were almost a religious experience for him.

Case in point; the sleeve tattoo on his right forearm was a tornado, his arm forming the funnel shape of the swirling cloud that wrapped around it.

Today's work was good, honest hard work, the sort that kept him in top physical form, and it was the sort that involved making order from chaos. Even if he does have to put up with the background nattering that Susan puts up in his head, deriding the chainsaw he's using as a noisy, inelegant and altogether inefficient tool compared to something of true craftsmanship; ie. herself.

It's unfortunate that the heavy ear protection he wears can muffle the noise of the saw's engine but not his partner's voice, even with her in her ring form, in his pocket, and clipped to a chain that is in turn attached to his belt. There were times that it would be nice to be able to silence her simply by taking her off, but he'd probably feel a little unnerved to be out of easy contact, and no doubt she'd be unbearable to listen to after being put in a time out.

Still, she is mostly quiet as he eats his lunch -- even the most self-important ancient magical artifact can't really suggest he'd be better off eating his sandwich with a battle axe. He is eating with one hand and reading a battered paperback novel with the other, as is his usual routine, when one of the other guys queries him.

It's...gratifying that he occasionally gets these offers, both because he's the new guy and because he never takes them up on them. Not only is hitting the titty bar for some beers something that seems a little...pointless, given what he knows about the world and the task that is laid before him, but he has never been one for doing such things even before he became aware of the darker underbelly to life.

However...one of his recent lines of research suggests that there might be something unusual...his kind of unusual...about the star attraction at Hush, a stripper who goes by the name of Tracy Duke. He's backburnered that for now, because just dropping by a strip club alone to check things out seems a little pathetic if there isn't anything after all, and potentially dangerous if there is something and he gets made somehow.

But the cover of a bunch of rowdy labourers at a bachelor party, him being just one of a group? That's a welcome windfall that he isn't going to pass up.

"...hell, yeah," he replies with a grin, sticking his bookmark in and setting his novel aside. "I'm in. Gotta make sure he knows what he's getting into when he signs up for life with the ol' battleaxe." His tone is wry and experienced -- if not for the reason they might suspect. While he doesn't wear his ring while working, he does have it on when he arrives and usually puts it back on before he departs for the day, and most of the crew had no doubt seen him wearing it on his left ring finger. And the couple of guys who had engaged him in conversation about himself had heard the 'old battleaxe' line already.

Ha ha yes, you are very funny as usual, David. And, as usual, Susan sounds more exasperated than amused. If a couple of the guys had heard it before, she has heard it dozens of times over the past few years.

Love you too, honey, he replies without a hint of repentance.

"I'll have to run back to my place to shower and change, but I'll be there," he assures them. He doesn't know what he'll find there, but for an initial recon this is about as good a cover as he could ask for.

[Zilant]

In Toledo there are two laws about exotic dancing. The first law is that dancers can not be naked in a place that serve alcohol (or even Topless), so in any place that serves adult drinks, pasties and G-strings are the rule. The second law, written a few years later, requires the dancers to stay 10 feet away from the customers when naked or topless. This, of course, put an end to all naked or topless lap dances, to placing money in the garter belts of otherwise naked dancers, to women taking tips from guys' mouths with their breasts, and a lot of other things that would net the nude dancers the bigger tips. As a result, there are now few nude dancers in toledo...and a fairly large number of ALMOST nude dancers.

There are also persistent rumors that more things than are legal take place in the VIP rooms. Back in 2012, the Kisses Night Club in north Toledo was heavily fined for women not keeping their clothing on properly. Back when the club now called Hush was called Club XO, they were raided for prostitution at least once.

While the club has an ATM, both the ATM and the bank will charge you to use it...he might be better off bringing money with him.

Of course...all that is for after work is actually finished. (Reminder, the Discussion took place at noon) Having something to look forward to after work, the crew gets back to work with renewed vigor.

[David Henderson]

Not being a native to Toldedo, Dave isn't aware of the specifics of the laws regarding exotic dancers. Even if he was, however, he can't complain about how they stack up against the laws elsewhere.

He wonders, wryly, if the others would even believe him if he told them he had never been to a strip club of any sort before. Not that he is about to volunteer that information, of course. That's just never been a scene he'd been into.

He is, of course, familiar with the general shape of things through numerous movies and television shows; he's going to need a bunch of small bills, most likely.

Given what I understand of these places, it is surprising you have never attended one, Susan volunteers without being invited, as usual. Your libido seems to be quite healthy for a human, in my experience.

Oh, can we please not have you start talking about my libido? Dave shoots back, a touch exasperated himself this time. It's bad enough that I know you're always there, lurking in the background. It's surprising I have any libido at all at this point, he tells her accusingly as he fires up the chainsaw again with a smooth pull on the cord. Some people can't perform if a household pet is watching; Susan would render them permanently impotent, he imagines.

As he continues liberally dusting himself with man glitter, he runs his mind back over what little his research had said that had first twigged him to the idea that there might be something off about this Duke chick. He will have to do a quick dive online to see if he can ferret out anything more specific before he makes his way over there; better to be as forearmed as possible with as much knowledge as he can manage, a mantra to help keep him alive in this dark day and age.

Of course, the best of his information gathering will likely be done once he is actually there, but he'd rather know as much as he can about what he might be getting into before he gets there.

[Zilant]

Work is eventually over, and David gets to head home. It was a good day, a lot was done and you got off about on time.

The address is quickly located 532 South Reynolds Road. Also map directions from David's place are simple.

He finds out that the cover charge to get in is $10, that drinks will cost $7, that VIP dances are $20 (or 2 for $30). That is all public information, easy to find.

He does find out that, before the place was remodeled and taken over by new owners, that the place was raided by the police for Prostitution. Back then it was apparently called XO.

He does find out a bit about Tracy Duke. Her claimed age is 26. The pictures of her (there are not many) look too good to be real. Some of them have comments associated with them asking who her plastic surgeon is, some ask who did the photoshop on the pictures, and some say that she looks even better live.

All that is public record, if he wants more information than that he will have to do some digging.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d20+3 = 15
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 16 / 1d100 = 33

Having quickly showered off the effects of his day's work once back at his place, Dave lounges unselfconsciously naked on his bed with laptop in lap, seeing what he can dig up on Hush in general, and this seemingly too-good-to-be-true star dancer of theirs. He trawls through forums for personal experiences, sifts through names and cross-references for numbers, addresses, and social media presences where he can, and finally does a little illicit poking around at records of employment and anything else he can get his digital fingers into that might prove relevant.

He smiles to himself as he works; whoever would have thought that a misspent youth at the beginning of the computer age could end up being just so darn useful in an ages-old fight against the Dark that is trying to occupy his world?

He knows he's on a time limit though, so he keeps an eye on the clock. He's going to drive, leaving his truck parked at the Airport Highway Lowe's and walk the mile north to the club. He'll claim coming on transit if anyone bothers to wonder; he doesn't want to be vastly out of touch with his ride if things go sideways, but neither does he want to have it parked right on the scene.

Given that he is going to a strip club he imagines he won't be able to get his knives inside with him, but it's doubtful he'll need them anyhow. Susan, of course, is now riding on his left hand as usual. She'll have his back.


Netwise: 53% 1d100 = 46
Computer Hacking: 60% 1d100 = 67
Research: 60% 1d100 = 8

[Zilant]

David is unable to find any record of "Tracy Duke" before her first appearance on stage roughly 4 years ago. Before she joined the dancers at Hush, the night club was rated pretty average. Since then, it has been top rated almost constantly. Public records of the night club's taxes show their income has skyrocketed since she started. One thing seems sure, she is a really big draw.

The web site does mention a coat check, so it is a pretty safe bet that he can not carry weapons in.

Odds are, Tracy Duke is a stage name...it is making tracking her harder.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d20+3 = 9
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 10 / 1d100 = 31


Dave puts the laptop to sleep and closes it, setting it aside to think for a moment. While he hasn’t found anything conclusive or damning, there is certainly enough that is unusual that he still thinks it merits a second look.

Whelp. In that case, he should probably get ready.

Getting dressed doesn’t take long, of course. Pulling on his clean jeans and a grey shirt, a brown plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows completes the fashion portion of his wardrobe. Socks and his older pair of workboots (that were at least clean) go on next, and his facade of a simple blue-collar worker out on the town is complete.

Of course, this is generally what he wears anyhow, so he isn’t sure how much of a facade he can really call it when it comes down to it.

He tucks the slim folder of throwing knives into the back of his pants and covers them with the tail of his plaid – he’ll leave them in the truck, where they’ll be closer than his apartment. Merely nowhere to be had when he’ll likely need them, rather than laughably far away.

I don’t know why you think you need those tiny little things, Susan grumps at him. You have me, which should be more than enough for anyone.

Too much, sometimes. ”Oh, so I’m just supposed to throw you away when I need to hit something beyond arm’s reach?” he replies aloud. ”I’m thinking I’d rather keep you close; we work better as a team.” He's willing to lay the flattery on a little thick when necessary. For a powerful, ancient artifact, Susan has some odd little insecurities.

Her reply is more an emotional sensation than words, but she seems pleased by his response. Grabbing his keys and his coat, he heads to the door. He’ll get something to eat while he's there; just because he's there on business is no reason to pass on some greasy bar food. Besides, the website says it's four dollar cheeseburger and fries day. Who can pass that up?

First, however, he’ll have to stop by a bank machine and withdraw some cash. He has a fair bit of emergency funds on him already, but, well…those are for emergencies. This isn’t one, even if you stretch the definition.

[Zilant]

David can withdraw up to $400 in one day from one machine, it is the way machines in this area work (how much he gets is up to him, as long as it is less than $400 and is in amounts divisible by $20...most bank machines only give out twenties). After getting his money he drives over to the chosen Parking lot, barely glancing at the sign that says for customers only...everyone knows that such rules are only enforced when the place is busy.

A mile at a brisk walk is about 20 minutes, but he can see well before he gets there that the place is busy. He does not see any of the cars from work, possibly he is the first to arrive. He can wait for some of the others or go inside.

(I am unclear about it, but I think "Susan" can only use David's perceptions and does not have any ability to detect things in the area, since she currently has no features that say anything about warning him of attack or of types of enemy nearby.)

[David Henderson]

OOC Comments

I'm not seeing any sign that an artifact has anything other than the senses of its Bonded either, so we'll go with shared senses.

Perception: 31% 1d100 = 66
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 6 / 1d100 = 58

Dave doesn't have an excessive amount of disposable income at the moment, and he isn't planning on doing any serious drinking (for several reasons, up to and including the fact that this is a work night), so he's only taking out a hundred dollars for the night's outing, and hopes he doesn't need to use all of it.

He also had hoped he wouldn't be the first one to arrive -- and maybe he isn't, after all his vehicle isn't in the parking lot either -- but he'd still rather not take the chance of being the first one to walk through the door, without the camouflage of the rest of the group there to blend into.

So he kills a little time, walking up past the front of the strip with an eye to spotting any security system elements that might be visible, and making a note of the other businesses that are in the complex. He keeps going up to the end of the block, then loops around to make the circuit down the back of the businesses, checking which back door belongs to which and what might be expected if one were to make a sudden exit through one. He doesn't take any pains to be sneaky about it -- he's just a guy walking by, and is taking care not to give off any suspicious vibes by acting strangely.

He gets a surge of wordless approval from Susan -- despite her drive for action, she has been around long enough to know the merit of a careful recon rather than just charging in somewhere. As long as the charging in happens at some point, she is willing to let him get a lay of the land without being critical about it.

Surveillance: 45% 1d100 = 5

[Zilant]

The Strip mall is fairly long, with a Subway at one end and a Mini-mart at the other. The Show bar takes up what used to be at least 3 businesses.



https://www.bing.com/maps?&ty=18&q=Hush ... 64703&sV=1

Next to it on one side is a place that sells car parts, on the other a hair salon. There should be at least 3 doors on the back that access the club. As a guess one is used to bring in food that they prepare (they do sell food as well as drinks), another is an emergency exit, and the third may be for staff (including dancers) to enter. There is also a large dumpster behind the building.

All in all, it looks pretty typical outside. As noted the windows are completely covered over to keep anyone from peeking inside.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 31% 1d100 = 48
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 8 / 1d100 = 40


Having done his rounds of the building structure and making mental notes of the locations of security cameras and their fields of view, Dave is gratified to see the rest of the crew streaming into the front of the club. He joins them, blending in, and starts making a few ribald comments of his own to the groom-to-be.

He pays his cover charge and looks about curiously as he checks his coat. Quite the…tastefully decorated place, it matches fairly closely to what the webpage showed online. The atmosphere seems heavy with humidity and masculine anticipation, and he resigns himself to an evening of overly loud music and way too many people.

He isn’t so much worried about spotting anyone or anything out of the ordinary just yet – he will likely be here for a while, he’ll notice things as they happen. In the eventuality that there is something hinky going on here, he’d rather not draw attention to himself by being too obvious.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 22 / 31%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 10 / 1d100 = 89


Paralysis certainly isn’t fun, especially when Dave knows there’s things out there that might want to kill him. Doubly so when he keep seeing...things...that he’s not certain are real or not.

I am quite certain that purple winged cyclops is an hallucination, Susan tells him crisply. Not only are even pschyomorphs like your new friends unlikely to assume such a form, one would hardly expect them to loiter here, chewing on people.

Dave has to agree, for those reasons and for others. He’s fairly certain Susan has never heard the song before, though.

He’s also never seen her before, but it seems in his hallucinating state his brain has decided to attribute a visible form to the usual voice inside his head. Considering it’s coming from inside his head it’s hardly a surprise that it’s spot-on to what he would have expected. But it’s just so...damn...perfect.

He hasn’t quite dared share with her what he’s seeing in that regard.

Little glowing faerie shapes flit past his field of vision, giggling as they spin and spiral, and he’s pretty sure they’re not really there as well, but it’s hard to concentrate on them when he keeps seeing some kind of dark shadow creeping along at the very edges of his vision. That one is all too possibly real, and he doesn’t relish the possibility of something new and dire manifesting with him unable to do anything about it.

Or, even worse, something that’s been around all along and is very much aware of what he’d been doing a few minutes ago.

Its’s possible this isn’t one of my better plans, he admits inwardly, privately glad that at least he doesn’t have to go through this entirely alone, trapped in his own head.

...possibly, Susan replies, and that single word is dry enough it could be marketed as an industrial grade dessicant.

Hey, come on now, it’s not the worst either, he protests, keeping his attention on one of the dark shapes that’s continuing to remain just out of full visibility. This is definitely the best way to maintain my cover, and with everybody else bailing we can’t be sure that we’d have been able to fight our way out. This works...assuming we survive.

Susan’s lack of reply somehow still gets the point across that the artifact would carry on in one way or another, regardless of whether or not he survives.

One of the shifting shadows finally resolves itself into a giant, glossy-shelled beetle over six feet long, with bright orange markings and a tall protrusion on its nose. It’s one of those, whaddyacallits, big exotic—rhinoceros beetles! That’s it, although this one’s way big and the colouring is strange. It clicks and buzzes as it scrambles over to him, and if he had been able to move he would have shuddered as he can feel its brittle little feet pressing into him as it clambers right atop of him.

:Hello! I speak, we speak, we hear, you do, light fight, no say, go go: Dave seems to hear, although none of it makes any sense. Although, again, perhaps he is distracted by the creature proceeding to collapse about him, cutting off his vision in a moment of rising panic, feeling the mass of the giant bug weigh down his arms and legs.

David, Susan begins, but breaks off as the shocking sensation of icy water rushing over him shatters the darkness around Dave and reveals a new hallucination. Water-spraying tentacles drag men into the room, followed by a horde of axe-wielding men in long coats – probably some analogue of Dave himself, if one is going to get all analytical about these things.

But then blue men, with—no, he realizes they’re police, armed and alarmed, and the rest had been firemen. There’s much noise, confusion, and activity, and shapes loom up around the helpless Sword Bearer before he feels the cold circles of steel close about his wrists.

Well, this just got less uncomplicated, he observes, trying to clear the effects of the gas from his mind. Sometimes it really sucks being the one left behind....

[Zilant]

The good news is that David is rapidly removed from the gas by the police, with his supernatural endurance it should not take long to recover. The bad news is he is hauled to a paddy wagon and is probably on his way to a county jail...and just possibly his quick recovery will be noticed. It occurs to him that his finger prints might be on something...like the gas mask if they can lift them from the material it is made of. It might not be a bad idea to avoid questioning if he can.

(Feel free to make a save vs non-lethal poison to recover.)

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 25 / 31%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 13 / 1d100 = 70
Save vs Non-Lethal Poison 1d20+4 = 6 / 16

The fresh air starts to help clear Dave’s head immediately, although he hopes the massive winged shape he sees passing between himself and the low sun is yet another hallucination.

As such, being dragged into a paddy wagon and being deposited in amongst a few other paralyzed and presumably tripping patrons comes as a bit of a relief; whether the flier was real or drug-induced, it can’t see him in here.

Discarded by the cops who departed to collect another hapless interviewee, Dave takes a moment to take stock of his situation. He doesn’t really want to endure a prolonged police visit, especially if there’s a chance any of them might undergo full processing, whether or not there is any grounds to do so.

There clearly hadn’t been legal grounds to expose people to hallucinogens and come in armed with spears, after all, so pesky things like ‘rights’ might not stop them.

He should be good, however. He’d handed off his gas mask to Asylum so his prints wouldn’t have been left there, and the only other damning thing they might be found on is....

…is the darkmetal knife, currently tucked into his belt at the small of his back.

Oh, hell, we’d better bail as soon as we can, he informs Susan, experimentally trying to wiggle his toes to gauge the progress of the paralysis.

Yes, indeed. That will work better once you are touching me again, however, if you wish to use any of the sometimes useful abilities I have seen fit to grant you.

Susan...has never really come to accept how readily he puts her off when he sees fit, and it seems she’s gotten her haft in a twist again.

Yes yes, escape now, berate me for my choices later, he replies, and concentrates on simultaneously holding very still and surreptitiously testing to see if he can move. Once he has mobility again, he’ll have to wait for a time when there’s no one in authority to see what he’s doing before going for the ring chained in his pocket, an invisibility spell, the knife to cut his cuffs, and an opportunity to slip away when the doors are clear again.

There’s enough people inside and a few different wagons, most likely, that they’ll have no clear record of who’s been put into what ride; he should be able to slip out of the net before they get down to such details.

[Zilant]

Naturally the police act a bit different when fighting "monsters" who have no official reality. Vampires, for example, are not supposed to be real. The gas is clearly intended as cover to explain things like showgirls who dissolve if sprayed by a fire hose. Clearly anyone who makes such claims was hallucinating, it is a decent tactic. Actually, their tactics for the raid in general were pretty good, if David and the Nightbane had not been there, it probably would have succeeded.

Of course, that is not helping him get free.

The knife could be a problem, if they find it before he gets out they are likely to do something to prevent his escape. So far, they seem to think he is just another human prisoner...which is why he took in the gas. The problem is, the gas is doing pretty well at what it is built for...which is keeping him from moving and making him hallucinate. Like, for example, that rattlesnake there with the wings and claws of an eagle.

The snake bird says, "Nektok vasi."

Suddenly David can move as the negate toxins spell clears out his system. The creature remains, apparently not just a hallucination, and comments, "I can smell the blood of hounds upon you, I think you leaving before more arrive would be a wise idea. It is good that the ones they had with them are all dead or I would not dare help."

The snake bird speaks another spell in Dragonic, "Lelantis." With that, he vanishes from sight.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 38 / 31%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 2 / 1d100 = 43

...what the hell was THAT? Dave demands after a shocked moment of silence before hurrying to action, not wanting to squander this unexpected assistance. Squirming about, he gets his fingers on the pocket chain and retrieves Susan, feeling strength flow back into him at the contact.

"All right, let's do this," he mutters, glancing at the wagon doors. "Fade to black."

Having triggered Susan's invisibility spell, he scrambles to his knees and shuffles to the side, not wanting to be right in the way when the cops return with another patron. Carefully drawing the knife from its concealment at his back, he slowly and awkwardly presses the edge through the chain of the cuffs, freeing his hands.

Taking a moment to cut the loose ends of chain free so they won't clatter, he pockets them and re-sheathes the knife.

And waits.

After the next prisoner is deposited, he waits for a count of fifteen before trying the door -- surely they aren't locking it between trips, not with paralyzed prisoners....

[Zilant]

Susan comments silently, *Ophis Pteros they were called in Greece, meaning winged serpent. I had no idea they were still around. They mostly lived in the mountains of the Arabian Peninsula and in Central America I think.*

The knife is sharp, but handling it is awkward. Eventually you get free, but not without a lot of discomfort.

The police bring in another prisoner (possibly the snake-bird leaves while the door is open, or possibly not. Either way you do not see him or hear from him) you do not hear them lock the door. Fortunately they do not seem to be taking a head count and do not appear to notice you are missing.

There is probably at least one guard outside the door, it is SOP.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 7 / 31%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 13 / 1d100 = 4

Of course -- the wagon won't be left unattended. Of course, it won't necessarily be guarded all that alertly, with everyone paralyzed.

Well, almost everyone.

Let's see if I can do this without getting a pack of hounds on my ass. Hopefully we took out all the ones assigned to this op already.

That would be nice, but it could be wishful thinking.

Quietly unlatching the door, Dave slowly swings it open, deliberately mimicking the pace you might see of a not-quite-latched door coming open under its own weight. Now, the hard part -- carefully, quietly, but not too slowly, he attempts to shift his not-inconsiderable bulk down through the door and to the ground without jostling the wagon in a noticeable manner -- or getting ran into by an investigating officer.

Prowl: 1d100 = 18 / 35%

[Zilant]

Time 7:50 PM
Conditions: Cool and partly cloudy with fading afterglow

David slowly opens the door, he spots the sentry, who is watching for things approaching the paddy wagon but is not alerted by the "improperly closed door". He manages to sneak out. He notes a burning car half a block north with several police and firemen attending to it. There is, about when he exits, a loud high-pitched warning siren from somewhere further North.

He could head South back to his car, North to see what the siren was about, or could jump up to the top of the building to the west, or try to cross the road to the east.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 47 / 31%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 19 / 1d100 = 78

Decisions, decisions. On one hand, considering the resources already expended this evening, falling back to his truck and regrouping for another day just makes sense. On the other hand, it's never easy to track down agents of the Night, and he's already done the world a favour by reducing their forces by a fraction; why stop now?

On the gripping hand, there had been shit going down out here while they had been involved in their little ruckus inside, if he recalls correctly. And it sounds like it might still be going on, if a trail of destruction and a further alarms to the north is any indication.

About a four minute run to the south to his truck, and then a few more back and further to the north. Or just check things out on foot from here.

We've really got to work on a faster way of getting around, you and I, he tells Susan wryly, then sets out at a sprint -- one of the nicer perks of magically induced super endurance is the total absence of lactic acid buildup. Full bore all the time, baby! He angles off onto the smaller residential street paralleling Reynolds Road on the left, not wanting to charge right into the middle of things at least until he's past the burning car. Hopefully he can find out what's going on before his invisibility spell lapses entirely.

[Zilant]

Time 7:50 PM-7:52 PM
Conditions: Partly cloudy with fading afterglow

David runs rapidly North through the parking lot...well as rapidly as he can as he has to avoid tripping over fire hoses and bumping into police carrying paralyzed bodies and such. Once he is out of the immediate area he cuts onto a side road that passes through a trailer park.

As he heads north he sees a group of beings in SWAT riot armor, though he realizes they are not moving like humans. They seem to be headed East, toward a group of three vehicles in a parking lot behind a building, he thinks the alarm came from there.

One of the vehicles seems to be a truck hauling a mobile generator, a second looks to be a SWAT van, the third looks like a large mobile command center ot communications van.

There seems to be a small group of people near the van, but you can not clearly see what they are doing from here.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 48 / 31%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 15 / 1d100 = 95

Spotting what very likely is a pack of Hounds, Dave immediately slows his headlong sprint to the measured jog of a runner. He's not exactly dressed the part, but he's not confident that Hounds pay all that much attention to the various outfits humans drape themselves in depending upon activity. He is, actually, a daily runner himself, and so the rhythm comes naturally and he makes like someone out for exercise rather than someone going hell-bent-for-leather.

Even for him, half a dozen Hounds would be just a bit much to tackle head on.

While he has quite decent night vision it isn't enough to make out just what is going on up ahead, and he can't be certain if the Hounds are going to be joining some of their fellows or more of local constabulary, or if they're about to pile into a group of...who knows what.

Lacking enough data to make a decision on what to do just yet, Dave trails along behind the running Hounds and does his best not to attract attention that he doesn't want...yet.

Tailing 1d100 = 57 / 45%

[Zilant]

Perhaps fortunately, most of the hounds seem to be concentrating on what is going on ahead of them. However, one of the hounds drops back and turns to face David...apparently he was not entirely unseen.

David, now a bit closer, can make out three figures at the communications van (that would be the one with the big satellite dish/radar dish on it obviously). One of them seems to be attacking the side door window...which would tend to indicate they are not police. Of course, the one he can see most clearly (now that he has moved to this side of the van) is a familiar-looking glowing figure...one of the Nightbane he met inside, the butterfly-man.

David has to deal with the hound first before deciding what to do about the interlopers.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 58 / 31%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 7 / 1d100 = 98
Initiative: 1d20+1 = 6
APM: 5

Conditions:
Magic Armour (AR: 14, 160 SDC)

Well, that puts a different perspective on things. It appears that not all of his chance-met battle companions from the club had bolted very far, and if bug-boy is here and trying to pry his way into a police vehicle, it would seem that the evening's events aren't quite over yet. And he's not about to let those who are fighting the good fight get piled into by a pack of Hounds while they're distracted.

Ain't no rest for the wicked, and other Caged Elephantine sorts of things.

"Shields Up," he tells Susan, triggering her force armour spell. Drop the invisibility too; and get ready to come out and play.

About TIME, Susan replies with genuine enthusiasm, summoning protective energies about her Bearer while dispelling concealing ones. Not that they were being hidden from the Hounds anyhow.

Abandoning any pretense at just being out for a jog, Dave runs hard at the waiting Hound, teeth bared in a grin. Perhaps fifty feet from the monster he leaps into the air with a bellow of effort, arms windmilling slowly for balance as he crosses the distance in a truly prodigious leap. On the downward third of his arc he raises his arms in line above his head, and a large and decidedly fantastical appearing battle axe just...coalesces in them.

The axe blade bites deeply into the join between the Hound's neck and shoulder, the shock of impact both loud and forceful. Dave wrenches Susan free as he slides past, and the fierce grin is still on his face as he rounds on the injured Hound once more.

This...isn't going to be easy. But there's no better way to feel alive, that's for sure.


Action 1: Cast Magic Armour
Action 2: Close distance to Hound
Action 3: Close distance to Hound
Action 4&5: Power Punch with Axe (EP spent for Automatic Critical): (1d6*10)+17 = 57 + 4d6 = 10 x2 = 134

Auto Parries: 1d20+15 = 32, 1d20+15 = 23, 1d20+15 = 31, 1d20+15 = 30, 1d20+15 = 33
(((1d6*10)+17)+1d6)*2 = 0 (This syntax clearly was wrong somewhere )

[Zilant]

David renews his spell and charges the hound, ending in an amazing leap strike that sheers off a long swath of armor on the right side of the hound...not that the armor works against magic weapons in the first place. The hound staggers back and lets out a utelating howl of pain, it strikes back with the bladestaff it pulled out when you started your charge, but Susan easily parries the attacks.

A normal human if struck with a proportionate level of damage, would be in shock. The semi-mechanical hounds seem to be immune to that, though they can evidently feel pain...or was that a warning call to the others?

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 19 / 31%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 3 / 1d100 = 92
Initiative: 1d20+1 = 19
APM: 5

Conditions:
Magic Armour (AR: 14, 160 SDC)

Dave laughs -- despite it always feeling a little risky, his blood nonetheless sings whenever he directly wields Susan in combat. The axe feels alive in his hands, almost as if it's helping to guide itself into the most vulnerable points.

"Bad dog! Sit!" he commands, and lays into the abomination with a controlled flurry of axe blows. Strike rebounds to return strike, the haft spins to slip an incoming attack and pass it narrowly past his side, and the meaty thud of the curved edge effortlessly shearing the carapace armour are all steps in a dance that's been played out many times over many years.

This is, from the long view, a fight that he will likely never win. But that doesn't mean he won't do as much damage as he can in the intervening years -- every handful of Hounds destroyed are resources the Nightlords will need to replace from somewhere.

Plus, it's very therapeutic.


Action 1: Axe Strike at Hound 1d20+12 = 14, Damage 9d6+17 = 49
Action 2: Axe Strike at Hound 1d20+12 = 14, Damage 9d6+17 = 51
Action 3: Axe Strike at Hound 1d20+12 = 16, Damage 9d6+17 = 54
Action 4: Axe Strike at Hound 1d20+12 = 14, Damage 9d6+17 = 50
Action 5: Axe Strike at Hound 1d20+12 = 20, Damage 9d6+17 = 50

(Contingent: If Hound goes down, subsequent actions are to close the distance to the rest of the Hounds)

Auto Parries: 1d20+15 = 35 Nat 20!, 1d20+15 = 35 Nat 20!, 1d20+15 = 27, 1d20+15 = 26, 1d20+15 = 25

[Zilant]

David is having a hard time hitting for some reason, but even so he manages to connect twice and put the hound down eventually and heads towards the van, where he sees Franklin and an unknown man fighting five hounds. He also sees one of the hounds struck with a lightning weapon from the van. Looks like both Franklin and the unknown are hurt.

(OOC: David should be able to close the distance in the last action of this round and the first of next. Note that one of the two hits was because the hound rolled a 1 on a parry.)

[Zilant]

David drives the unconscious Simon to the trauma center. The rules are that if the person is brought through the door, they have to provide treatment. That means he will have to carry Simon inside before he drives off, or else there is no guarantee of treatment. How to do so without being recognized is the question?

[Jack Greenfield]

At some point, David will receive an email from Jack.

David,

Hope all is well. Could use your expertise on a project I have in mind. Let me know if you need anything from me.

-A

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 21 / 31%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 16 / 1d100 = 33

Arriving at the doors to the medical care centre, Dave considers his options – but not for overlong. He’d really, really hate for Simon to expire in the back seat due to his dithering.

Looks like it’s time for you to work your magics again, my dear, he tells Susan, focusing on what he wants from his artifact’s useful bag of tricks. ”Pretty pretty pretty,” he whispers.

That is not…exactly…the intent of that spell, she replies, a touch dryly. At the very least, your invocation is…undignified. Regardless, she focuses her dwindling store of magics on making more attractive, persuasive, and in the truest sense of the word...glamourous.

Getting out of the car and leaving it running, he carefully hauls Simon out of the back seat and arranges him cradled in his arms. Approaching the doors, he laments that the automatic action prevents him from dramatically kicking them open before firmly fixing hospital drama in his mind.

Bursting through the doors, he pauses a moment to give eyes a chance to move to him; and the aura he's radiating a chance to get its teeth into everyone.

"A car dropped this man off outside!" he declares in a ringing tone. "I'm not sure he's still breathing. Someone get him a doctor!" Hooking a wheelchair beside the door with one foot, he hauls it over to where he can set Simon into it.

"Take care of him; I'll go see if I can find that car!" Without waiting for a response, he turns and plunges back out into the night.

"Found it," he says conversationally, then slides behind the wheel to get the hell out of there. From there, the plan is simple; find a remote location not too far from where he'd left his truck, wipe prints from the car and torch it to destroy any other evidence, and hoof it to his ride.

Upon receiving the email from Arkham he grins to himself; looks like he's made some new friends.

A,

Evening went well enough; I'll have to fill you in later. I'd be happy to help with a project; after I get some sleep! Talk to you tomorrow; maybe we can get together after work?

-- Dave

Casting Charismatic Aura: Trust (9 minute duration)
Public Speaking 1d100 = 41/45%

[Zilant]

Where David left his Truck was in a Lowe's parking lot south of Airport Highway. This is a fairly busy area, even at night, but there is a stretch near Swan Creek that is fairly deserted. He might be able to set the car on fire near there without it being noticed for several minutes (at least long enough to get hidden in the brush).

From there, it is just a couple of minutes to where he left his truck. It does not seem to have attracted any particular attention.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 61 / 34%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 5 / 1d100 = 100

Leaving a burning car in his wake, abandoned down near the tree and shrub-lined riverbank, Dave has to wonder just how his life came to this point. Go back five years, and he was a different person entirely.

You really turned my life upside down when you decided I'd make a good meat puppet, you know, he tells Susan in a cheerfully conversational tone as he unlocks the door to his truck.

For the better, she instantly replies, her tone smug. You were doing nothing with it; I gave you meaning. Purpose.

And as much as he'd like to argue with that, he finds he can't. Starting the Avalanche's engine, he shakes his head and smiles ruefully.

You've got me there, he admits, putting the truck into gear and heading out of the parking lot and onto the highway. We're doing good work; making a difference, if only a little at a time. Thank you, for bringing me into this. His tone is far more sincere than is often the case when conversing with his sometimes-uptight benefactor.

And thank you, for sacrificing everything for this, she replies with equal gravity. I believe we are ready to advance this relationship to the next level. I would hate to lose such a useful Bearer as yourself.

And, of course, in true Susan manner, she refuses to say anything more on the topic for the moment. Dave shakes his head ruefully and steers the truck toward his motel; Susan just wouldn't be Susan if she wasn't too frustrating by half sometimes.

That's all right. They have the rest of his life to annoy each other. Hopefully that won't get cut short any time soon.

[Zilant]

As David makes his way through the overgrowth near Swan Creek, he keeps having the feeling that someone is watching him, but he does not see anything. It is not until he gets to his car that he sees anything...

What he sees is a flying drone dropping some kind of package on the roof of his car, then releasing and flying off. Now that was clearly not a legal delivery, even though such drones exist, the law says they can only deliver by day. Come to think of it, that was pretty big for a delivery drone, and is a pretty big box

The box has the words, "Patriotism deserves rewards" printed on it and a fancy flag theme color scheme, but nothing else identifying.

[David Henderson]

Perception: 1d100 = 18 / 34%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 5 / 1d100 = 11

Whatinthehell?

Dave has an urge to leap into full paranoid security mode, but throttles it down. If nothing else, it’s clearly too late for that, what with black-ops drone delivery directly to his vehicle.

Circling about his truck, he eyes the large, star-spangled package resting on the tonneau cover for a long moment before coming to a snap decision. Opening the truck’s tailgate, he slides the box off the cover and into the bed. Slamming the gate shut, he headed for the driver’s door; no point in letting it sit around to draw attention for any longer than he has to, and he certainly isn’t going to open it and paw through it in a parking lot.

The wording and flag theming of the package has him a little uneasy, however; there’s been rumours on the dark web that the President is backed some significant supernatural forces, and while they seem to be in opposition to the Nightlords, he has no desire to become a Trump Card.

The whole situation is more than a little unsettling; he’s kept a low profile in town until tonight’s activities...which started well after he had parked his truck. So there was little reason for anyone to have any idea that truck was his, unless there was some pretty potent magics involved.

Which is hardly a comforting thought.

With a large package burning a metaphorical hole in his truck, he heads back to the motel to wrestle it inside and see just what new trouble has dropped itself into his lap...almost literally.

[Jack Greenfield]

At some point, David receives an email from Jack:

"FYI."

Attached is a screenshot from the news with the headline: "A vice Raid at a local Adult Entertainment club goes horribly wrong."

The screen shows the entrance to the hidden basement on camera, though not the contents.