Kobold King

I was under the impression that Toymaker is also working for him, hence the soldiers and giant robots.

Great idea! How's this? Nighthound: That's not true at all! You like me, right Ray?

I'm heading to Wal-Mart, but when I get back I can try out some other coat colors. I have yet to try out any shades of brown or tan--those might work better. EDIT: To Edgedancer, I was kind of hoping the green clashing with the yellow could serve as a representation of the punk-grungy look that's emphasized in Electro's bio and description. I don't think it ultimately works like I'd hoped, though.

THIS IS AN EX-VULTURE! Ahem. Here's Electro Mark 1 open for criticism:

I have the same feeling. And Lightwards' way of healing Warriors might just give her a stroke.

I'm having more trouble than I'd anticipated with the Electro pony. Do you know how many dark, grungy colors there are that go well with spiky blond hair? Not many, I can tell you that.

So how long until Panacea gets her own pony?

Lightwards stood by the edge of the Museum, staring out over Portland. The city seemed tranquil, though he knew the truth. To the north, he mentally tagged stretches of horizon that belonged to Altermind and CorpseMaker. The city was relatively peaceful now, but if the Empire were to expand, this city would have to be sacrificed to the flames of war. And if there was a figure left standing in the ashes of Oregon, it would not be the illusionist or the human basilisk. It would be Lightwards. He smiled for only a moment, allowing his eyes to drift upon his allies further along the floating building's edge. Nighthound was amusing himself by annoying Ray--nothing unusual there. With a theatrical flourish that could have rivaled Aldo, the strength Epic leaned over the side of the building, saying something Lightwards couldn't hear. Then Ray kicked her master in the back, causing him to hurtle uncontrollably off the building. Lightwards stared for a moment, torn between surprise and sudden anger. "Ray!" he shouted. He took a step forward, furious. "How dare you--" As he stepped forward to continue the reprimand, a grenade bounced up and hit the edge, throwing up a cloud of dust. He had only a second to feel a moment of unfettered rage at Nighthound's shenanigans before the force of the explosion through him backwards and into the bronze dinosaur skeleton. After a few minutes, Lightwards pulled himself up with a groan. He had neither died nor suffered any mortal wounds, so that was comforting. He glared at the pulverized patch of destroyed asphalt at the edge of the fortress. One of these days, he thought bitterly. I am going to kill both of them. Sam hadn't entirely expected Funtimes to help. She'd seen the insane woman come to the aid of Purple Phoenix, but he was an Epic. She still wasn't entirely certain that she'd bother with protecting the humans she carried around with her. Fortunately, her initial hunch was correct; Funtimes did care. Traveler quickly gathered up Revolution and the Unicyclist, and the Doctor herself raised a nonchalant hand over the diamond. The table turned to steel, twisting and changing shape into a huge box that rested neatly over the crystal. Dishes and cutlery became intricate screws and hinges for sealing the boxes' doors shut, fully containing the diamond growth. Doctor Funtimes finished her metal installation, turning to face Lucentia with a smile both sweet and dark. "How long did you want to be here, Lucentia? Friends can stay forever, but you I'm not sure about." "Attempting bodily harm on one of our servants without permission is rather rude," added Traveler. Lucentia merely gave out a long and dramatic sigh, shaking her head as if she were feeling particularly put-upon. “Maybe I was rude but not admonishing your servant for being rude isn't exactly polite either, so how about we call it quits? As for staying here, with this interior design, as little as possible. Honestly, it´s more about whether I get the fast way to Portland or the one long and tedious for all of us.” Sam felt the beginnings of outrage stirring with her. Yeah, Lucentia, she thought darkly. Murder by crystal is a perfectly fair and proportionate retribution for an insult. I'm glad you could teach me about justice today, your honor. She started to open her mouth to give voice to these thoughts, but for once decided against it. There was a time and a place for open defiance, and right now, backed against a wall wearing half a pair of socks, was not one of those times. She started to put her hands on her hips and settle into a deathglare worthy of CorpseMaker, but quickly she decided that such a mannerism would be little better. Instead she directed her attention to the rest of their little team. Traveler was apparently trying to salvage the situation, while the Unicyclist wore his usual mask of indifference. Revolution, however, was giving Sam a supportive smile. After a moment, Sam smiled back. Sudden and gruesome death was always a strong possibility when facing Epics. But if her smart mouth finally got her killed here, at least there would be a kindred spirit to witness it--another rebel with a sense of humor. It took a minute for his deductive skills to start creeping back into his head, but by the time they neared Phoenix's dwelling Aldo felt as good as ever. He could predict anything now. Purple Phoenix stopped not far from a particularly dingy-looking abandoned house, his path blocked by a thick clump of rats flooding a dark alley. "Lovely neighborhood," Cricket sniffed, eyeing the rats with caution. "Ever heard of cats? They're these nifty little things that help with rodent infestations." They watched as the mumbling man with the beard kicked a few rats out of his way. Instead of scattering, the rats only clustered together and stared at the Epics, their pointy faces shining with determination. "Storms, forget the cat," Cricket swore. "We'll need firebombs." Aldo the Enigmatic nodded thoughtfully. This was very unusual behavior for rats--and in a post-Calamity world, any kind of unusual behavior could usually be ascribed to Epics. There was no warning, no hint. Nothing for his deduction to catch onto. Purple Phoenix reached into his pocket, pulling out a pebble radiating arcane energy. He threw it into the pile of rats-- And they exploded. Aldo gave a slight yelp as he stepped back, and Cricket leaped to the top of a nearby building in surprise. The pebble ceased to exist in a crackling flash of light, and a thin cloud of evaporated rodent flesh rose up through the street. The smell made Aldo want to retch. Cricket landed on the sidewalk beside him with a crack of broken asphalt. "What the sparks just happened?" she demanded. Aldo shrugged. "He's evidently an energy Epic." "How did you not notice? You're usually great at spotting energy Epics!" "He's different from the rest," Aldo hissed, his nostrils flaring. "I have nothing to go on with him. His mind is blank, his mannerisms are those of a homeless hobo. And don't look now, but there's an Epic following us." Cricket began to look anyway, but Aldo snapped his fingers and called her attention back to him. He'd seen her for only a split second--a tall and willowy woman with wild hair and an old-fashioned dress, looking startled by the burst of energy Phoenix had produced. No sooner than he'd glimpsed her than she'd ducked around a corner and out of sight, retreating into the shadows. "Let's get back to the Museum," Cricket breathed. "This cuckoo isn't worth getting murdered for." "We're not going to get murdered," Aldo shot back, trying to keep his voice normal. He'd only had a second's glimpse of the witch in the alley, but he could have sworn he'd seen songbirds with her. Was she the mind-controlling Epic behind the rat infestation? Purple Phoenix was ahead of them now, carrying on through the smoldering rats in that plodding gait of his. Aldo put his head up high and began following the man. Cricket, glaring down an alleyway, followed close behind. Phoenix led them into what seemed to be his home, a quiet suburban dwelling that seemed to have been abandoned for a while. There were a few rats here as well--the things really were getting everywhere. "Can you lay down on this couch?" asked Aldo amiably, gesturing at Phoenix. The bedraggled man grunted and complied with his request. "Alright," Aldo said, sitting down on a convenient stool. "Cricket, be a dear and stand watch by the door. I don't want any interruptions." His assistant nodded and walked out of the living room, standing by the front door across the house. "I am about to hypnotize you," Aldo continued to Phoenix, "You'll go into a state of hypnosis as I help guide you through your turbulent mind. With any luck, I can get those voices of yours to clam up. 'First, close your eyes. I want you to imagine yourself in a serene location. Imagine sitting by the side of a gently rippling tropical river. Imagine the cries of tropical birds and the feel of rich rainforest air..." He tuned his voice to the subtle undulation of Phoenix's chest. Keeping his voice in tune with the target's breathing was vital. "Your body is relaxed. Your arms are relaxed. Your hands are relaxed. Your legs and feet are soothed, and you're falling deeper into yourself. You're sinking down, shutting down. You are sinking down, shutting down. You are shutting down completely, and the deeper you go the quieter your head will be. My words will help make the voices go away..." The hypnotism was going well. This was only the induction stage, but Purple Phoenix was an ideal target. He closed his eyes and seemed content to cooperate with him. That was good. Now that he was inducted, he could finally get to the real meat of the process-- He didn't get the chance. He heard a sudden noise from the other room, and the front door slammed open and shut in quick succession. He rose to his feet with a revolver in his hand as Cricket's shrill voice echoed in his ears. "Aldo! Crazy lady heading your way!"

Hmm... I like it. It adds a neat timey-wimey element while fitting the characters into a greater context. I'd never considered time travel to be a potential Epic capability, but if certain physicists are correct, space and time really are intimately connected, then Möbius might just be able to make it work. Perhaps Möbius in her state of madness deliberately chose some of the most unstable, dangerous Epics she could find as a way of striking back against the mental Epic. After all, if there's one sure way to get someone killed, it's by trapping him in a winding pocket dimension filled with the roleplay's most terrifying characters.

This is going to be the best Nightmare Night Halloween ever. Voidus, should I have Aldo enter follow Phoenix into his habitation and begin the hypnosis, or do you need another post before we can begin?

It's definitely not so we can all gang up on Phoenix and mob-lynch him right outside the Portland Postal Office, if that's what you're implying!

GASP His weakness was cryptic hints! How did you figure it out so quickly? I may have conspired with [DATA EXPUNGED] for scene specifics. I intend to write up a post here soon.

Well, Slaughterhouse was a mean-spirited and unethical plastic surgeon before Calamity. Sending Remington to take him out is a pleasant idea, but there's really no conceivable way for him to set off SH's weakness. A man as despicable as Slaughterhouse doesn't live as long as he has unless his weakness is really darn hard to exploit. As for a Panacea-Slaughterhouse fight... well, I believe the players in Oregon have collectively put their hooves down and declared SH isn't allowed in, so I guess the soonest possible date is October 1st. Möbius takes orders from no one... but in this case, she might be on the same side as you.

His alterations are immensely painful during their installation, and often cause pain to the target long afterwards. (Unless it's a minor change like skin or eye color.) It's hard to say whether he actually causes damage to his victims, because he essentially turns their flesh into an easily shaped clay-like fluid. Finished additions like wings have more in common with scar tissue than natural limbs, however, even if they are functional. Slaughterhouse would not be pleased with anyone who made a habit of "vandalizing" his artwork.

I am a fan of Nightmare, Panacea, and all the beasties up for adoption at Chimera's Animal Clinic. Yes, but I would like to read about your visit from the safety of my living room. Make no mistake, Lightwards will have words with him over this. Theoretical question: if Slaughterhouse altered a guy's anatomy so he now had wings coming out of his back or a third eye in his forehead, could Panacea heal him?

I love Panacea as a name! (Funtimes could nickname her "Pancake.")

To the best of my knowledge, it is simply a way to have a copy of a conversation sent to your email address. No more, no less.

Should I start practicing? Learning everyone's weaknesses? Yeah, I could do that. (Honestly though, it feels like you do a lot more. RP-wise you drive most of the story, and you keep the other players balanced well with each other.)

Welcome! I'm not particularly familiar with Redwall or its fan sites, but it's always good to see a new member. Also, you have my favorite dragon eye picture as your profile picture.

I've never GM'ed one of these--for that matter, WHIO is the only RP I've ever been involved with. But I could certainly try my hand at it. All there really is to it is showing the players no mercy and flaunting your total domination of the narrative, right?

I... actually, I have no idea. I would say that the growth of diamond would continuously loop from one end of the pocket universe to the other, filling it up and encasing Lucentia. If she survived being compressed by diamond for long enough, eventually it would create a black hole, which might create a corresponding wormhole. I don't know enough about the physics to accurately predict what would happen.

Ah! How could I forget Crow? He's awesome! And sure, I'll try to get something up. There's not much to do though other than have Sam begin mourning her lost sock. Yay! At least, I think "yay" is the proper response. "Yay" for us, "OH GOD NO" for the characters. October 1st sounds reasonable. Gives us a whole month for the RP to play out. Will you be the GM again, Twi?

I don't remember precisely who Crow is, but he sounds cool! This is going to be so awesome. Waiting for October might just kill me.

I like him/her. The color-based power kind of reminds me of Warbreaker, which is one of my favorite Cosmere novels. Maybe it could be set in Calamityville, so we get one of the most awesome RP names on the forum? Maybe the meta-plot could involve a mental Epic attacking Möbius and driving her temporarily insane, letting the creepy Epic PCs fight one another through twisting streets based on M. C. Escher paintings.