I'll be posting a villain a week (this time with a short background blurb, by Jingo!). This week's villain is (wait for it):
Mister Saturday! (stats and apology to Bruce Baugh and the excellent Adventure! game to follow).
Campaign Idea: Beneath a Steel Gray Sky
Moderator: Super Moderators
34 posts
• Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2
by Mike Costigan » Tue Jan 14, 2003 6:31 pm
Sure, if you folks don't mind my group's stumbling attempts at making characters, which might be wrong, wrong wrong. I'll be posting a villain a week (this time with a short background blurb, by Jingo!). This week's villain is (wait for it):
Mister Saturday! (stats and apology to Bruce Baugh and the excellent Adventure! game to follow).
I'll be posting a villain a week (this time with a short background blurb, by Jingo!). This week's villain is (wait for it):
Mister Saturday! (stats and apology to Bruce Baugh and the excellent Adventure! game to follow).
The greatness of Evil lies in its awful accuracy, for without that deadly talent for being in the right place at the right time, Evil must suffer defeat.
- Mike Costigan
- Bystander
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Thu Dec 19, 2002 10:54 am
by Mike Costigan » Wed Jan 15, 2003 7:48 pm
Mr. Saturday
Str: 16
Dex: 14
Con: 15
Int: 16
Wis: 20
Cha: 20
BAB: +6
Melee: +9
Ranged: +8
Damage: +2
Fort: +2
Will: +5
Reflex: +2
Skills: Alertness +8, Bluff +12, Concentration +20, Demolitions +6, Diplomacy +9, Disable Device +8, Gather Information +15, Innuendo +10, Intimidate +10, Knowledge: Occult +18, Language (French, Latin), Medicine +8, Search +8, Sense Motive +12, Stealth +10
Feats: Assessment, Connected, Improved Initiative, Infamy, Leadership, Minions, Psychic Awareness, Trance
Powers: Sorcery (Mind Control, Force Field, ESP, Illusion, Drain, Animation, Teleportation) Extra: Telepathy, PL10.
Origin: Being educated in the finest schools America could provide wasn't enough for Ephraim Moore. Born to one of the better-off African-American families in New Orleans' French Quarter, Moore's life was one of ease, leaving the ambitious young scholar discontent beneath the massive artifical shroud shielding the city from the burning solar radiation brought forth by the Ragnarok Effect.
All that would change one dark night, when Moore, working late in one of his father's offices, overheared a corrupt New Orleans cop discussing 'insurance' with his father. A discussion that would end with a single sharp report, and Moore's father dead.
Though there was little evidence linking the officer to the murder, Moore pursued the case regardless, finding himself blocked at every turn. For each motion filed, his father's...now his...workers were beaten, harassed, all by a cabal of a few petty men whose position of authority made them all but invulnerable to the forces of the law.
Ephraim turned to other sources of power, as his family's wealth ran dry, and embraced a new philosophy: if the young laws of the land would not give him the vengeance he craved, then he would turn to older laws.
Pursuing a years long study of the occult, Ephraim took on the countenance of one of the voudon loa, the Baron Samedi. In the fashion of one of New Orleans' heroes of the Golden Age, he took on the moniker 'Mister Saturday', and carved a bloody path of vengeance through the men responsible for his father's murder...and in the doing took over the minor criminal empire they built to finance his revenge. Somewhere along the way, Saturday forgot about 'justice' and fully embraced a corrupt philosophy combining the wild anarchy of his enemies with the grave cold outlook of his Voodoo patron...
Fleeing Federal authorities in New Orleans, Saturday has moved his operations to New Chicago. Rumors persist that the move was at the behest of an as yet unknown silent partner. No matter what the reason, Saturday has established himself as vice king of Darktown, running gambling, prostitution and drugs. With the recent near disaster at the Lighthouse, he's styled himself a champion of the people. But those in the know are aware that Saturday is running an angle...
Str: 16
Dex: 14
Con: 15
Int: 16
Wis: 20
Cha: 20
BAB: +6
Melee: +9
Ranged: +8
Damage: +2
Fort: +2
Will: +5
Reflex: +2
Skills: Alertness +8, Bluff +12, Concentration +20, Demolitions +6, Diplomacy +9, Disable Device +8, Gather Information +15, Innuendo +10, Intimidate +10, Knowledge: Occult +18, Language (French, Latin), Medicine +8, Search +8, Sense Motive +12, Stealth +10
Feats: Assessment, Connected, Improved Initiative, Infamy, Leadership, Minions, Psychic Awareness, Trance
Powers: Sorcery (Mind Control, Force Field, ESP, Illusion, Drain, Animation, Teleportation) Extra: Telepathy, PL10.
Origin: Being educated in the finest schools America could provide wasn't enough for Ephraim Moore. Born to one of the better-off African-American families in New Orleans' French Quarter, Moore's life was one of ease, leaving the ambitious young scholar discontent beneath the massive artifical shroud shielding the city from the burning solar radiation brought forth by the Ragnarok Effect.
All that would change one dark night, when Moore, working late in one of his father's offices, overheared a corrupt New Orleans cop discussing 'insurance' with his father. A discussion that would end with a single sharp report, and Moore's father dead.
Though there was little evidence linking the officer to the murder, Moore pursued the case regardless, finding himself blocked at every turn. For each motion filed, his father's...now his...workers were beaten, harassed, all by a cabal of a few petty men whose position of authority made them all but invulnerable to the forces of the law.
Ephraim turned to other sources of power, as his family's wealth ran dry, and embraced a new philosophy: if the young laws of the land would not give him the vengeance he craved, then he would turn to older laws.
Pursuing a years long study of the occult, Ephraim took on the countenance of one of the voudon loa, the Baron Samedi. In the fashion of one of New Orleans' heroes of the Golden Age, he took on the moniker 'Mister Saturday', and carved a bloody path of vengeance through the men responsible for his father's murder...and in the doing took over the minor criminal empire they built to finance his revenge. Somewhere along the way, Saturday forgot about 'justice' and fully embraced a corrupt philosophy combining the wild anarchy of his enemies with the grave cold outlook of his Voodoo patron...
Fleeing Federal authorities in New Orleans, Saturday has moved his operations to New Chicago. Rumors persist that the move was at the behest of an as yet unknown silent partner. No matter what the reason, Saturday has established himself as vice king of Darktown, running gambling, prostitution and drugs. With the recent near disaster at the Lighthouse, he's styled himself a champion of the people. But those in the know are aware that Saturday is running an angle...
The greatness of Evil lies in its awful accuracy, for without that deadly talent for being in the right place at the right time, Evil must suffer defeat.
- Mike Costigan
- Bystander
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Thu Dec 19, 2002 10:54 am
-
TheDayKnight - Supporting Cast
- Posts: 141
- Joined: Tue Oct 29, 2002 4:23 pm
- Location: Iowa City, Citadel of the DayKnights
by Mike Costigan » Sat Feb 15, 2003 12:00 pm
I'm workin' on it!
Seriously, though, I've just been lazy as all get out, and will have a huge update this weekend for the last 3 issues. Here's a sneak preview:
*Invasion of the Lava Men!
Witness the origin of the striking COBRA! More TAC action as the amazing VANGUARD arrives on scene to battle the invaders! And featuring the mysterious origin of...PRICE TITAN!
*Who Watches the Watchman?/Let the Punishment Fit the Crime
BLUE TORNADO returns in this action packed issue when he must save a commuter train held hostaghe by a madman! When an ancient sword is stolen from a mysterious occultist in New Chicago's Chinatown, it spells trouble for KOKUEI, THE SHADOWBLADE. And open gang warfare in the streets as MISTER SATURDAY'S minions mix it up with WRATH and PRIDE! And it's villains a go-go when we introduce the enigmatic and deadly WATCHMAN and THE MIKADO!
*The Man Who Isn't There
TEAM Chiacgo enters the dark side of Talented crime when a seemingly harmless old man is brutally slain in front of dozens of witnesses...and yet no one can identify the culprit. It's a race against time as TEAM delves deep into the origins of Chicago's original mystery man, THE RUMOR...what is his link to the murder? Is he responsible? What is OSI agent KENT MANSLEY's stake in the event? And how does it all link in with the ill-fated USS Eldridge?
Seriously, though, I've just been lazy as all get out, and will have a huge update this weekend for the last 3 issues. Here's a sneak preview:
*Invasion of the Lava Men!
Witness the origin of the striking COBRA! More TAC action as the amazing VANGUARD arrives on scene to battle the invaders! And featuring the mysterious origin of...PRICE TITAN!
*Who Watches the Watchman?/Let the Punishment Fit the Crime
BLUE TORNADO returns in this action packed issue when he must save a commuter train held hostaghe by a madman! When an ancient sword is stolen from a mysterious occultist in New Chicago's Chinatown, it spells trouble for KOKUEI, THE SHADOWBLADE. And open gang warfare in the streets as MISTER SATURDAY'S minions mix it up with WRATH and PRIDE! And it's villains a go-go when we introduce the enigmatic and deadly WATCHMAN and THE MIKADO!
*The Man Who Isn't There
TEAM Chiacgo enters the dark side of Talented crime when a seemingly harmless old man is brutally slain in front of dozens of witnesses...and yet no one can identify the culprit. It's a race against time as TEAM delves deep into the origins of Chicago's original mystery man, THE RUMOR...what is his link to the murder? Is he responsible? What is OSI agent KENT MANSLEY's stake in the event? And how does it all link in with the ill-fated USS Eldridge?
The greatness of Evil lies in its awful accuracy, for without that deadly talent for being in the right place at the right time, Evil must suffer defeat.
- Mike Costigan
- Bystander
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Thu Dec 19, 2002 10:54 am
by Mike Costigan » Tue Feb 18, 2003 11:49 am
Working on it...
Seriously, though, I should have the final edits done tonight, and I'll be breaking it up into multiple 'issues' so things don't get too confusing.
And in other news, Dan leaked the new M&M sourcebook. Yay! And curse you Green Ronin for taking yet more of my money!
Seriously, though, I should have the final edits done tonight, and I'll be breaking it up into multiple 'issues' so things don't get too confusing.
And in other news, Dan leaked the new M&M sourcebook. Yay! And curse you Green Ronin for taking yet more of my money!
The greatness of Evil lies in its awful accuracy, for without that deadly talent for being in the right place at the right time, Evil must suffer defeat.
- Mike Costigan
- Bystander
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Thu Dec 19, 2002 10:54 am
TEAM Chicago: Issue 4 INVASION OF THE LAVA MEN!
by Mike Costigan » Tue Feb 18, 2003 9:11 pm
TEAM Chicago Comics, Issue 4:
Invasion of the Lava Men!
Chicago, 2005
100 feet below street level
7:23 P.M.
The tunnel stank. Rot and mildew and seepage from sewers trickled through cracks in the walls. Even the heady scent of ozone couldn’t mask it entirely, not to COBRA’s enhanced senses. He landed, straightening from his acrobatic twist in midair as Proteus prepared his next attack. Past the mad Paraelemental Man, banks of electronics hummed, all feeding power stolen from the Cook County grid into…something. COBRA’s eyes best decribed it as a ring, crackling with static discharges, but his electronic senses told a different tale – there was something past the ring, more to it.
“DIE COBRA! DIE DIE DIE!” The ParaElemental Man’s dialogue left something to be desired. Being insane and comprised of the four alchemical elements for fifty years had its downside.
Boiling steam and mud crashed into the floor where COBRA stood but moments before. Servo-enhanced nerve and muscle strained, torquing the operative midair, coherent light flashing from one leg, barely deflected by a maelstrom of air cooled to absolute zero. The deflected beam crashed into a bank of machinery, some sort of jackleg supercomputer. Proteus’ ‘Para-Dimensional Quantum Ring’, whatever that meant, whined in protest as other systems shouldered the load.
The ParaElemental Man drifted closer, gliding on thermals generated by his fluctuating form. Infrared sensors indicated that he was preparing to launch another blast of elemental fire. Only moments to work a evasive solution…
“This will be our final battle, old foe,” snarled the madman. “In moments, the Quantum Ring will open portals to the Elemental Planes, the fountain of all that is…and this world will cease to be! A new world will rise, one that Doctor Proteus shall mold in his image!”
A spike in the IR was the signal: COBRA leapt, anti-armor laser flashing, deflecting the vastly more powerful blast from Proteus into a vital-looking databank…fire solidified to lava, and the Quantum Ring pulsed, filling the tunnel with blue-white light. The last sound either man heard before the light washed over them was a klaxon…
New Chicago
1000 feet below sea level
Darktown and Commerce
7:24 P.M.
“ALERT ALERT ALERT! TAC unit, please respond. 3822 in progress, Talent crime in progress, all TAC units and TEAM agents, please respond.”
Agent Kirby’s voice crackled through the intercom from his office:
“That’s your cue, heroes, get to work. Situation hasn’t gone south yet, but reports are coming in of a massive fish kill in the Bay.”
Judas sneered, tugging on his trademark mask. “So what, we set up a barbecue?”
Kirby’s rolling eyes cold almost be heard. “Ask the guys who made the volcano that caused it. Kirby out.”
Prince Titan and Doktor Tesla exchanged looks. “That’s…unusual,” rumbled the Prince of Inner Earth.
“Indeed…such tectonic activity cannot be natural, and given the recent altercation at the Lighthouse…I’ll check it out, with my new Thermo-Kinetic Lift Pack!” As the rest of TEAM ascended the stairs, the good Doktor and Titan rocketed into the steel-gray skies of New Chicago, headed for Michigan Bay. Below them, Judas chuckled as he spun the lift fans of his autogyro into motion, speeding shakily towards the Lakeside District, home to the wealthy and powerful…
New Chicago
Michigan Bay, Lakeside District
7:30 P.M.
“Alright people, get back, get back behind the barricades, please! TAC has this situation under control, there’s no danger to your homes!” Ramirez was having a legendarily crappy day. Not enough that a fish kill seemed likely to provoke a food riot in some of the Districts, not enough that he had to chew his men out for not finding the sniper that had provoked a riot at the Lighthouse…but to have to call in the G-Men, TEAM…he slugged back another cup of stout black coffee, and grimaced.
Out in the Bay, the tiny volcano steamed and hissed, a dragon from beneath the earth, wrought of cooling molten stone.
“Far cooler than it should be,” mused Tesla over the psi-band link. “According to my instruments, there’s also a marked lack of toxic out gassing typical to this sort of phenomenon…”
ShadowBlade did not look at Judas, but nodded. “Understood, Tesla-san. Unnatural. Take the vehicle down, Judas.”
Judas brought the autogyro in for a landing…TAC had even been helpful enough to cordon off an area…well, three-quarters of one. Would have been a full area, if Judas ever got his license. Then again, which name would he put on it?
Below the autogyro, shouting, strobing lights, the telltale signs of…
Police activity. GPS was offline, half of the nanocomputer enhancements were offline, only basic enhancements and IR. Arcthrower, pulse lasers, anti-armor, all nominal. The HUD crawled its message across COBRA’s field of vision, speaking its tale of woe. The two guys in the air looked like Metaoperatives, but no ID on the database. Fence thrity feet away, an easy run, simple leap over. Maybe the authorities could give him an idea where he was…
“It started about three hours ago,” commented Ramierez, as TAC began deploying some sort of gear from their assault van. “Fish dying off, then that thing popped up. Sure looks like a volcano, don’t it?”
“I would not know,” quipped ShadowBlade. “Does it, Judas?”
“I’m a detective, not a geologist. Prince, Doc, gimme a status report.”
“It is not very large,” rumbled Titan. “I am standing on it, and” The mighty Prince of the Inner Earth stopped. There was something familiar about it, the structure. Dim memories stirred within him…but only for a moment.
“INCOMING!” shouted the good Doktor over the link. From the newly-formed island, a projectile began streaking in…a curiously humanoid projectile. TAC took positions, and something within their assault van whirred to life.
An easy jump for an enhanced man. COBRA vaulted the wrought iron fence with practiced ease. He might not recognize where he was, but trouble’s got a look all it’s own. He sprinted to the nearest cop, dressed in some kind of weird-looking body armor.
“What’s the situation? How can I help?” The TAC officer’s reaction was drowned in a cascade of sound as Titan crashed through the wall of a Lakeside home, smashing it to flinders, setting it ablaze before digging a furrow in the carefully manicured lawn.
“Get this civilian back behind the line!” howled Ramirez. COBRA’s response was nonplussed – he flashed his ID.
“TRIGGER! Get over here!” Ramirez pointed at the camouflaged COBRA. “You people deal with this, I’m gonna get my men in there and put your boy out before he burns the neighborhood down.”
“Burns t’be takin’ orders from th’ cops, don’t it, Judas?” growled Agent Kirby, beside he and Kokuei suddenly.
“How…? Nevermind, boss. I’m on it.” Judas slid away, approaching COBRA, leaving Kirby smirking, and Kokuei…puzzled. How did the elderly G-Man sneak up on her, of all people?
Invasion of the Lava Men!
Chicago, 2005
100 feet below street level
7:23 P.M.
The tunnel stank. Rot and mildew and seepage from sewers trickled through cracks in the walls. Even the heady scent of ozone couldn’t mask it entirely, not to COBRA’s enhanced senses. He landed, straightening from his acrobatic twist in midair as Proteus prepared his next attack. Past the mad Paraelemental Man, banks of electronics hummed, all feeding power stolen from the Cook County grid into…something. COBRA’s eyes best decribed it as a ring, crackling with static discharges, but his electronic senses told a different tale – there was something past the ring, more to it.
“DIE COBRA! DIE DIE DIE!” The ParaElemental Man’s dialogue left something to be desired. Being insane and comprised of the four alchemical elements for fifty years had its downside.
Boiling steam and mud crashed into the floor where COBRA stood but moments before. Servo-enhanced nerve and muscle strained, torquing the operative midair, coherent light flashing from one leg, barely deflected by a maelstrom of air cooled to absolute zero. The deflected beam crashed into a bank of machinery, some sort of jackleg supercomputer. Proteus’ ‘Para-Dimensional Quantum Ring’, whatever that meant, whined in protest as other systems shouldered the load.
The ParaElemental Man drifted closer, gliding on thermals generated by his fluctuating form. Infrared sensors indicated that he was preparing to launch another blast of elemental fire. Only moments to work a evasive solution…
“This will be our final battle, old foe,” snarled the madman. “In moments, the Quantum Ring will open portals to the Elemental Planes, the fountain of all that is…and this world will cease to be! A new world will rise, one that Doctor Proteus shall mold in his image!”
A spike in the IR was the signal: COBRA leapt, anti-armor laser flashing, deflecting the vastly more powerful blast from Proteus into a vital-looking databank…fire solidified to lava, and the Quantum Ring pulsed, filling the tunnel with blue-white light. The last sound either man heard before the light washed over them was a klaxon…
New Chicago
1000 feet below sea level
Darktown and Commerce
7:24 P.M.
“ALERT ALERT ALERT! TAC unit, please respond. 3822 in progress, Talent crime in progress, all TAC units and TEAM agents, please respond.”
Agent Kirby’s voice crackled through the intercom from his office:
“That’s your cue, heroes, get to work. Situation hasn’t gone south yet, but reports are coming in of a massive fish kill in the Bay.”
Judas sneered, tugging on his trademark mask. “So what, we set up a barbecue?”
Kirby’s rolling eyes cold almost be heard. “Ask the guys who made the volcano that caused it. Kirby out.”
Prince Titan and Doktor Tesla exchanged looks. “That’s…unusual,” rumbled the Prince of Inner Earth.
“Indeed…such tectonic activity cannot be natural, and given the recent altercation at the Lighthouse…I’ll check it out, with my new Thermo-Kinetic Lift Pack!” As the rest of TEAM ascended the stairs, the good Doktor and Titan rocketed into the steel-gray skies of New Chicago, headed for Michigan Bay. Below them, Judas chuckled as he spun the lift fans of his autogyro into motion, speeding shakily towards the Lakeside District, home to the wealthy and powerful…
New Chicago
Michigan Bay, Lakeside District
7:30 P.M.
“Alright people, get back, get back behind the barricades, please! TAC has this situation under control, there’s no danger to your homes!” Ramirez was having a legendarily crappy day. Not enough that a fish kill seemed likely to provoke a food riot in some of the Districts, not enough that he had to chew his men out for not finding the sniper that had provoked a riot at the Lighthouse…but to have to call in the G-Men, TEAM…he slugged back another cup of stout black coffee, and grimaced.
Out in the Bay, the tiny volcano steamed and hissed, a dragon from beneath the earth, wrought of cooling molten stone.
“Far cooler than it should be,” mused Tesla over the psi-band link. “According to my instruments, there’s also a marked lack of toxic out gassing typical to this sort of phenomenon…”
ShadowBlade did not look at Judas, but nodded. “Understood, Tesla-san. Unnatural. Take the vehicle down, Judas.”
Judas brought the autogyro in for a landing…TAC had even been helpful enough to cordon off an area…well, three-quarters of one. Would have been a full area, if Judas ever got his license. Then again, which name would he put on it?
Below the autogyro, shouting, strobing lights, the telltale signs of…
Police activity. GPS was offline, half of the nanocomputer enhancements were offline, only basic enhancements and IR. Arcthrower, pulse lasers, anti-armor, all nominal. The HUD crawled its message across COBRA’s field of vision, speaking its tale of woe. The two guys in the air looked like Metaoperatives, but no ID on the database. Fence thrity feet away, an easy run, simple leap over. Maybe the authorities could give him an idea where he was…
“It started about three hours ago,” commented Ramierez, as TAC began deploying some sort of gear from their assault van. “Fish dying off, then that thing popped up. Sure looks like a volcano, don’t it?”
“I would not know,” quipped ShadowBlade. “Does it, Judas?”
“I’m a detective, not a geologist. Prince, Doc, gimme a status report.”
“It is not very large,” rumbled Titan. “I am standing on it, and” The mighty Prince of the Inner Earth stopped. There was something familiar about it, the structure. Dim memories stirred within him…but only for a moment.
“INCOMING!” shouted the good Doktor over the link. From the newly-formed island, a projectile began streaking in…a curiously humanoid projectile. TAC took positions, and something within their assault van whirred to life.
An easy jump for an enhanced man. COBRA vaulted the wrought iron fence with practiced ease. He might not recognize where he was, but trouble’s got a look all it’s own. He sprinted to the nearest cop, dressed in some kind of weird-looking body armor.
“What’s the situation? How can I help?” The TAC officer’s reaction was drowned in a cascade of sound as Titan crashed through the wall of a Lakeside home, smashing it to flinders, setting it ablaze before digging a furrow in the carefully manicured lawn.
“Get this civilian back behind the line!” howled Ramirez. COBRA’s response was nonplussed – he flashed his ID.
“TRIGGER! Get over here!” Ramirez pointed at the camouflaged COBRA. “You people deal with this, I’m gonna get my men in there and put your boy out before he burns the neighborhood down.”
“Burns t’be takin’ orders from th’ cops, don’t it, Judas?” growled Agent Kirby, beside he and Kokuei suddenly.
“How…? Nevermind, boss. I’m on it.” Judas slid away, approaching COBRA, leaving Kirby smirking, and Kokuei…puzzled. How did the elderly G-Man sneak up on her, of all people?
The greatness of Evil lies in its awful accuracy, for without that deadly talent for being in the right place at the right time, Evil must suffer defeat.
- Mike Costigan
- Bystander
- Posts: 37
- Joined: Thu Dec 19, 2002 10:54 am
by TheDayKnight » Fri Aug 08, 2003 3:43 am
Back from the dead!
BUMP...
This thread gave me a lot of inspiration for my game. I will be using Automtaic Kafka as a villian in my campaign!
BUMP...
This thread gave me a lot of inspiration for my game. I will be using Automtaic Kafka as a villian in my campaign!
-
TheDayKnight - Supporting Cast
- Posts: 141
- Joined: Tue Oct 29, 2002 4:23 pm
- Location: Iowa City, Citadel of the DayKnights
34 posts
• Page 2 of 2 • 1, 2
Return to Mutants & Masterminds Archives
Who is online
Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest