The next night, at the start of the televised six o'clock news, an announcement goes out on every channel's news report: Scorch Scale and Goodwill (and Scraps) are requested to show up at Pier 107 on Saturday morning, 9 am, "to help test a new type of security system."

Any other "public-minded citizens with special powers and abilities" are also requested to attend.

The invitation includes an offer of "a generous financial reward" for full participation...

Carlos sat in his favorite leather easy chair in the small living space of his studio apartment.  He had taken to watching the six o clock news to see if any new projects would pop up. Business hadn't been so great lately and he really needed all the help he could get.

He huffed with the faint beginnings of concern before obliterating it under a rising tide of ever present optimism. He'd be fine, sure he was three months behind and couldn't keep charming his landlord for more time, sure he might have to move or end up homeless again, but it wasn't to bad, he got through it and would again.

He began to dive into the logistics of his situation when the mention of a security job tugged at his attention. With a slowing growing grin the stunt man leaned forward to pay full attention to the news. "Generous financial reward huh..well, Pier 107. I'll have to prepare" He cast a glance at his closet, where he kept his El Brujo outfit behind a false wall.

"The last time I took an invitation like that, it was a super-villain. Followed by another super-villain." Gil turned off the television. Scraps wasn't in line of sight. Sleeping, maybe? Either way, it felt slightly more stupid to be talking to nobody at all then it felt to talk to a puppy. Both were essentially just talking to himself, but he could at least pretend that Scraps knew what he was talking about... or knew how badly Gil needed the money that was being offered. "But I guess I'm gonna do it anyway."

Was it another trap? Probably. But maybe not.

...right?

Scraps buried the bone deep.
He liked to bury the bone deep.

Of course, there wasn’t so many places in the apartment to bury his toy bone ... so he’d been burying it the dirt of the big ol’ pot plant in the corridor near the front door.
He was pretty sure that the dirt didn’t like being kept bundled up in that large vase, anyway.
So he was glad to give it a chance to spread out all over the floor ... it was a bit like Gil taking him for a walk.  Get some air, you know, and see something new.

Unfortunately, his toy bone didn’t squeak like it use to.
Scraps had chewed most of the squeak out of it.

Instead of burying it in the plant pot, Scraps decided to take it to Gil.  Show Gil how squeakless it had become.
Maybe Gil would magically produce another one, the way Gil did all the time.
And then Gil would put the old, chewed one in the magic bin ... and it would, over the next few days or so, turn into some yummy scraps for Scraps to dig out.

Looking around at the fine job he’d done helping the dirt get out for some fresh air, Scraps picked up his squeaky bone, and went pottering off to find Gil.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:33, Fri 14 June 2019.

Saul was stuck. His father was struck with an illness, unable to work. The bills were starting to roll in, and the savings would only go so far.
Saul should have been able to do something, he was the only other man of the house. If he didn't have hero work, Saul might have been able to scrape in some cash, but he was hard pressed to keep his grades high as is.

He was half contemplating going into the wrestling ring when he saw the news, it glared at him in that dark room, showing him a way to save the household. All he had to do was be there at the pier.

As much as a part of him cautioned against the supposed ease of the job, another part of him wanted a "nest egg". He most certainly didn't want a hoard of valuables, no siree.

Just a tiny bit early, Goodwill (and Scraps) examine Pier 107 from the air. There's a boat tied up there, and a few men waiting around... and... a police officer, it looks like...

Maybe it's someone from the last adventure at the police station...?
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:43, Sun 16 June 2019.

"Well, hey there." Gil landed near the police officer. He looked familiar, but Gil wasn't remembering his name. And sunlight was reflecting off his name tag due to the sharp angle of the morning sun. "Lieutenant... Caswell?"

He set Scraps down, because nobody could hold an excited puppy for very long.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:40, Sun 23 June 2019.

"That's right, Lieutenant Caswell of the 28th precinct. I got called in on this because I'm the member of the force who's talked the most to you and... the others..." He looked down briefly. "Hello again, puppy..."

oh 'Hello puppy' yourself, Officer ... and that got the nice officer one very happy response, as Scraps attempted to bounce all over the upright officer.

But then, then Scraps noticed the cornucopia of scents about the place.
It was like a zoo for the snout; an entire encyclopaedia of excitement.   So many smells and SO LITTLE TIME.

Scraps raced off to investigate the first 7,830 scents all at once.

The soft groan of twisting metal preludes a faint whistle as a shape comes spiraling through the air sixty feet up. It spins and drops until a lightpost bends unnaturally, reaching out to catch an extended arm that the leather clad figure uses to arrest its movement. The post dips with the consistency of taffy before springing up, hurling the shape in another horizontal toss before righting itself as though it never happened. This occurs three more times, each swing growing lower and lower until the figure seems to soar ten feet up, angled down until it came to a dip that ended in a forward roll that ended at the police officer and Scraps.

"Am I late?" The slightly distorted voice of muscular man rumbles from behind a what looks like a repurposed motorcycle helm.

"Good lord!" says the police officer. "I-- no-- you-- You're not late at all, but who are you...? I don't believe I've ever seen you before...?"

"Nice entrance," Gil said, looking at the streetlights that had straightened up as if by magic. How did he do that?

"El Brujo," The man said as he held a hand out to the officer. His helmeted head seemed to shift slightly and the nod of acknowledgement he gave to Goodwill seemed to suggest thanks.

"I've been about, nothing big but I figured since you lot were asking" His shoulders shrugged. "Unless you don't need me and Ill quietly make myself scarce."

Scraps was sniffing at the new man's boot.
There was something there ... something that intrigued him.

What was that smell.   He'd never whiffed that before, and he wants to know what left that scent.

Scent.  Sent.
Oh oh, he could send his own scent.
He could leave a wee-mail for any other dogs that came along.

Turning slightly, he cocked his leg ...

"Bad dog, no marking" Brujo leans down to scratch ears rather than to chastise. He couldn't blame the little guy for being curious. Besides he was such an adorable thing.

"Aren't you the most adorable thing."

"Scraps! We don't piddle on people!"

Such exuberance.

"Mm, no, I wouldn't say that... The purpose of calling you here--" The lieutenant breaks off, and turns to Goodwill. "...Say, is that Scorch Scale fella going to be here too, do you know...?"

"Probably. He's been everywhere I've gone for the past couple of weeks." Gil was mostly joking, but they did run into each other a lot. "I would give him another minute."

"Can't say I'm familiar.." Brujo began as he started to turn around to study the pier and whomever was there, though he hasn't stopped loving on the pooch. Occasionally a scritch is accompanied by a full ear scratch and belly rub as the doggo allows.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:18, Mon 24 June 2019.

Saul was strolling, taking his time when he thought that he might be late. His messenger bag was filled with something he had been working on for a while. A future convenience.

Regretting his predicament, Saul could only hope that there was enough money, even when it went against his ideology.

Making sure he was lucky, Saul went behind a warehouse crate to transform himself into Scorch Scale. Keeping his bag with him, he walked over to the group and added "Maybe the bad guys, they don't get enough punishment after all."

Oh, the doggo allows.  Dignity be damned, Scraps was rolling around in an attempt to make every part of him available to this friendly new friend.

When the big friendly lizard (the BFL) arrived, Scraps dragged enough of his attention away from the new guy to bark enthusiastically to Sir Scaley-Bum, though.

The lieutenant-- and the other men with him-- appear quite startled by what Scorch Scale said. "...What makes you say that...?!" the lieutenant asks Scorch Scale...
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:13, Mon 24 June 2019.

Scraps then continued off, wandering around and checking out the locale for special, exciting and new scents.
And along the way, he might just accidentally stumble upon any olfactorial clues that might be lingering, or loitering suspiciously, about the place ... perhaps trying to seem inconsequential.

                  - rolled 5 using 2d6 with rolls of 2,3.  Insightful to find any clues.
But the sudden smell of hotdogs came out of nowhere and grabbed Scraps by the nasal passages, causing a salivary whine and accelerated his legs off in an otherwise unexpected direction.

(Scraps gets 1 new xp, but takes -1 forward due to being nose-confuzzled.)

"Only that I wouldn't object if Scraps here piddled on a criminal or two." Scorch Scale said while chuckling to himself before Scraps scampered off.
"Humans don't exactly have a great history of being reasonable in war. I thought you would know that too well." Scroch Scale said, his pride saying that the strict lieutenant could be taken down a peg or two.

The lieutenant appears to calm down a little. "Ah," he says. "It was just an interesting coincidence, then. Because the reason we've called you here today directly involves punishing criminals... We're getting ready to officially open a new holding facility for all these strange new powered individuals who can generate electricity and look like anyone they touch... and now,  breathe black fire..."

"And we want to be ready for the women who call themselves Echo, and Spite, if and when they ever get apprehended..." said one of the men behind the lieutenant. "That won't be easy..."

"Of course, they'll have to go on trial," says the lieutenant, "but such people have to be held under arrest while they wait for trial..."

"...And most likely afterwards..." muttered the other man... Then, louder, he said: "...So. We've built a special new penal facility capable of indefinitely holding-- we hope-- such powered criminals, out on Plum Island... It's north of Montauk, near the Orient Point Ferry, but we had you meet us here, because we're trying to keep it all under wraps... It's currently holding Blue Dragon, The Impersonator, and this new black fire fellow... But we want to be ready in case any or all of them ever try an escape... Or in case anyone tries to break them out... We want you to come help us test our security system. The payment will be 1000 dollars, cash, for the day. Are you willing...?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:53, Wed 26 June 2019.

"You bet," Goodwill replied. He'd have done it for free, but the money would be a huge help. "Are we breaking in, or out?"

"First we'll try having you break out, then in." The man looks at Scorch Scale and El Brujo. "And will you two also participate? It's 1000 dollars each, not collectively..."

"Sounds great" El Brujo raised a hand and gave a thumbs up, despite taking a moment to study the strange Scorch. Still, the pooch liked him and dogs obviously has the best sense of people so he was probably a cool guy.

"May as well, isn't exactly like I'm getting many job offers as a dragon." Scorch Scale said with a bit of a huff. It resolved his predicament at home, and being a hero does take time out of his hands that could go to an actual job.

Scorch Scale wondered what the very mortal man was doing here with the super power beings, but Scraps was here too.
"What about the dog, does he get a check?" He asked with a cheeky, demonic grin.

"Ooh... good question." Gil laughed. Legend had it that Toto was paid more per day than the Munchkins in The Wizard of Oz. Scraps might indeed get paid, doubtful as it was. "Can he come with me, even?"

"The puppy does not get paid. You may bring him with you... but just out of curiosity... How does he always seem to stay safe when there's fighting going on all around...? Does he have a secret power of his own...?"

Brujo frowns and curls a little over Scraps before forcing himself to straighten and resume scratching. He didn't like the thought of the adorable hound going into dangerous situations, but he wasn't his dog so he figured he didn't have much of a leg to stand on. He did something manage to emote disapproval from behind his helm, somehow.

"Not that I know of. But he comes from a long line of Fire dogs, so he's plenty smart."

"You never know," Scorch Scale said with a shrug of his shoulders, "humans aren't the only ones to be powered. Scraps here could have ancestors from the Black Dogs of Dartmoor."

"I... don't know what that is."

Well, in any event, the three men and one dog get on the boat with the others, and head northeast toward Plum Island.

When they get there, the new construction is obvious-- a concrete five-story brick of a building, boxy, brutal, with very strong reinforced fencing in a rectangular perimeter all around it.

You're all ushered through various security checkpoints with utmost solemnity...

Soon, you're inside, in a sort of foyer... the interior decor, like the outside, continues to be spartan concrete reinforced with metal... There's a sort of hum all around you, like from fluorescent lights, but a little stronger...

"Now then," says the black-suited man who'd spoken up before, "I can take you on a tour of this place if you need... but we might as well start. You can start in the middle of the building, on the third floor... Or we can take you to where the prisoners are... that's the most logical place to start, don't know how you'd feel about that though..."

Scraps had bounded about the boat, enjoying the wind across his tongue, and trying to see the world from every possible angle of the boat at once.
But he also stayed close to Goodwill and the other guys.
He loved their attention, and wasn’t shy about sharing his own in return.

When they arrived on the island, and in the building, Scraps enjoyed taking in the scents and sights of the place; following behind, in front of, and all around the troupe as they walked.

Brujo looked around, actually craning his head this time. He hadn't when they were making their way in though it was nearly impossible to tell where his eyes were behind his visor. "You want to put a bunch of heros in the middle of a group of prisoners and say 'escape?'" He asked, his voice so full of incredulity it practically oozed from the walls.

"...I understand what you're saying, but if anyone's going to try to break out of here, we want it to be 1. you fellows, instead of the actual prisoners, and 2. when you fellows are here..." The man pauses. "...So is that a vote for the third floor...?"

"I'm sure you have the current villains under wraps. Why else offer escape from that angle?" the Draconic hero said with a smirk.

Scorch Scale came to this conclusion for two reasons
1. He knew he would escape anything the prison had to offer.
2. Wiping the smirk off of Blue Dragon again felt like it would warm his reptilian heart. More so than it already was of course.

"So... a vote for starting at the prisoner's area...?" The man then looks at Goodwill to see what he will say...

Goodwill shrugged. "Sounds like a plan."

"I'll take you to the prisoner's area, then... if there are no objections...?" says the man, looking at El Brujo...

El Brujo shrugged and motioned for the man to lead the way. He was outvoted and he was after all here for a job.

This message was deleted by the player at 03:36, Mon 01 July 2019.

The man led down some stairs... quite a few stairs, really. The door that they finally entered read SUB-BASEMENT 3.

There were closed-circuit cameras in many corners...

Finally, they came to a series of cells.

"You guys!" sneered Blue Dragon. He didn't sneer it defiantly... he seemed kind of depressed.

A young woman looked up. "Oh holy cow it's you guys," said The Impersonator. "And saaaay, you've got an interesting new friend..." she added, looking at El Brujo. "How you doin'?"

The magical man from the museum was there, too, but he didn't say anything. He watched Scorch Scale with interest, though...

"Bark Bark", Scraps greeted the nice girl.
She was so much nicer than that nasty, Spite-ful one with the very hairy pussy.

And he enjoyed her scent, also ... and so ran over to sniff her, and get any pats that she might won't to share.

"Sorry, puppy, I can't reach through these bars... wish I could, but there's a force field of energy..."

Goodwill gave the Impersonator a wave. She seemed like a nice person, albeit badly misguided.

"Are they treating you okay?" he asked.

"Um, yeah, if I'm honest, considering I'm in jail... Like, they don't beat me up or starve me or say mean things to me or anything else like that..."

Scorch Scale looked other the gathering of villains he helped put away, no matter their powers, they were put away all the same. But the hero couldn't help but look at both the thug-of-lightning and the collecting-stranger, and come to an odd realization.
"You know lightning-dolt? For all I say about you and your false dragon-hood, at least you used your own powers, rather than stealing a dragon's essence and treating it like a trinket. Least you have guts."

The man says nothing. Scorch Scale can see the man barely twitch, but otherwise he maintains a pretty good poker face.

"Ixnay, dude," Blue Dragon says quietly to Scorch Scale, looking anxious. "Ix-nay on issing-pay off the eepy-cray agic-may ude-day," he elaborates slowly and deliberately, looking nervous.

Scorch Scale made no sign that he registered what the thug said. A feat surprisingly easy when you're reptilian.
Over his shoulder, Scorch Scale looked at the stranger from before, looking around him carefully in case there was something being hidden.

Insight or Enhanced Senses?

Scorch Scale's enhanced senses don't tell him that there's anything deceptive about the man, nor his cell, at least not anything that Scorch Scale isn't already aware of (like that there's a scary dragon inside him).

If anything, what's odd is that Scorch Scale can tell that there's someone else down here, whose presence hasn't been acknowledged yet-- someone in a cell down the hall several cells down, on the right-hand side...

Scorch Scale turned to their tour guide to ask "So, under normal circumstances, who has access to this sub-basement? Who casts this ward?" He asked, scratching the "force field" for inspection. It seemed to cause a false alarm of déjà vu in his mind.

"Only guards and other staff. Each person is completely checked out by our security measures, as in-depth as we could possibly be."




"...Er, sorry, what? I'm not sure I catch your meaning."

The force field does indeed seem familiar.

"Do... you... mean... who makes the force fields? Erm, they're powered by our own independent generator down below us. It's very powerful, and has built-in back-up failsafes..." The man seems just a little nervous, or perhaps embarrassed...

"You didn't! You shouldn't have, you mortal fool!" Scorch Scale almost shouted in protest at the utter stupidity of the man in front of him.

"You!" The dragon bellowed into the hallway, pointing with a clawed finger "Reveal yourself! He may be a fool, but don't think you can fool me, Cogster!"

"Well, you'll have to come to me..." says the voice from the cell down the hall. "I am still currently incarcerated, after all..."

The man in the black suit sighs.

"I presume, that you made a deal with this criminal for his tech? Sweeten his time here?" Scorch Scale said as he approached the cell of the tech villain.

Scorch Scale knew things were wrong with them using the forcefield, his intuition told him something was wrong.

"You... presume correctly," said the man. "Mister, er, Cogster, has bargained to knock a number of years off of his sentence... he might be out in as little as ten years. In return, he's used his extraordinary talents with technology to make a prison that not even fire-breathers or power-borrowers nor electrical thugs can escape from... But we've been extremely careful to supervise things so as to not allow him to escape, either, nor to make it so that anyone else can escape... but you can see why we thought it might be best to have you people in to double-check the system..."

"The esteemed gentleman is correct," says The Cogster. "They have been extremely careful. I, nor anyone else within these walls, should not, by my calculations, be able to escape once trapped here, as indeed we now are." The Cogster sighs. "My only consolation, Mr. Scale, is that the same applies to you and your colleagues as well."

The man in the black suit nods.

Then he stops nodding, and looks at The Cogster. "...Wait, how did you mean that last part exactly...?"

The Cogster waves one hand airily in a gesture of self-evidence. "If I'm not getting out, neither are you. I've been able to secretly program the building's defenses for that much, at least. You're in trouble."

A wall at the far end of the hallway slides open, and three very age-of-steam-aesthetic robots emerge, arms raised to grab and/or destroy...

...And one smaller robot, just like the others, but less than two feet in height.

"...And your little dog, too," adds The Cogster.

"Get behind us!" Scorch Scale ordered to their tour guide. The non-hero needed to be out of the way.

"Too bad for you, Toaster. Because I'm feeling Fired up!"

"Seriously? You're going after my dog?" The level of evil a person had to go to in order to attack a dog — a puppy — with a killer robot was so incalculable to Gil that he almost forgot to be mad. He shook his head and focused on the task at hand. "I don't know you from Adam, Mister Cogswell, but I'm about to shove a robot into somewhere you'll find really uncomfortable."

Lacing his fingers together, Goodwill cracked his knuckles and then balled them up into fists. He took a good look at the approaching robots, trying to see if they had any obvious weak spots.

Look before you leap
Insightful:  Goodwill rolled 4 using 2d6-1 ((3,2)).

Yeah, he knew nothing about robots.

Things had suddenly turned very tense in the last few minutes since they arrived down here, and Scraps didn’t fully understand why ... but could smell it in the air.

Then, there was screaming, and shouting, and ... funny looking people coming out of the wall.
Scraps could ‘read’ the funny metal people, like he did the humans, but Scaleybutt and Gil seemed very concerned and angry, so Scraps figures this turn of events wasn’t a good one.

Hurriedly, he tried to look for a way out of this place, and away from this trouble.
Somewhere to run, for safety.
          - rolled 4 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,1.  Figure things out.
But he couldn’t see any way ... so instead he ran behind Gil’s legs and whimpered a little.

Scorch Scale knew they had to try and do something before the robots got to them.
Run away? No, there was a none powered being here that might get harmed by the robots.
Fire barricade? No, if the robots were resistant, he would be trapping everyone but himself.

"Just aim for the joints and immobilise them." Scorch Scale said, trying to inspire some action.

Inspire the Team
21:39, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 8 using 2d6 ((2,6)).

Everyone else gets +1 Forward

(Goodwill and Scraps each get 1 new XP. Everyone but Scorch Scale gets +1 on their next roll.)

A robot smacked Goodwill-- ow, that hurt even him a little.

The smaller robot picked up Scraps and tossed him against part of the wall... ow! This was not a fun toy!

(Goodwill takes 1 stress. Scraps takes 2 stress.)

(GM rolls dice)

A robot swung at Scorch Scale, but it just barely clipped him. Still, it hurt.

(Scorch Scale takes 1 new stress.)

Most unfortunately, El Brujo used his powers, whatever they might be, on the robot facing him... The robot made odd noises, and smoke started to come out of some cooling vents... but it still managed to get a lucky head shot in on El Brujo before it fell over and stopped moving... they took each other out.

"Yes, you might call it callous, but I've read a lot about you and your pup," said The Cogster. "I don't know if he's got a power of his own, but I think people underestimate how useful he can be to you, so I made a little playmate for him to deal with..."

"This won't end well, Cogster." Scorch Scale said, though to little effect as his demeanor didn't change from inside his cell.

Scorch Scale felt the pressure and wanted some space from the robots for a bit. So, he tried making a temporary wall of fire to keep them at bay. He didn't know if the machines would have rational thoughts or just jump into the fray, but he had to try something.

Hold them off
13:12, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 9 using 2d6+2 ((5,2)).

--Give them a choice between backing off or be stunned

Scraps got the wall, the the floor, hard.
He looked around for something useful to do ... or to use.  Or even, again, for an escape route.
     - rolled 5 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 2,2.  +Insightful.
          Regardless of Cogster’s opinion, Scraps isn’t being at all useful in this Story
Unfortunately, he still seeing nothing worthwhile; and was at a loss what to do.

"Time to take out the trash," Gil said, pushing one of his sleeves up and charging the onrushing robots. Gil wasn't sure how strong these things really were, so he decided to throw his full strength into a single attack on just the leading robot. If it was destroyed, maybe he'd switch to some tactic that involved multiple targets from there... but for the moment, he'd play them on a one-to-one, man-to-robot defense.


Forceful — It’s Clobberin’ Time! (+1 bonus)
Goodwill rolled 11 using 2d6+3 ((6,2)).
On a 10+ choose 2
--You hit hard (+1 Stun)
--You avoid most of their retaliation (-1 Stun)


POW!

The little robot ran over and punched Scraps again. (Scraps gets 1 new XP but takes 2 new stress.)

Goodwill's attack took out the robot he punched...

Scorch Scale made a firewall between the remaining robots and himself and his friends.

The robots paused for just an instant, and then walked forward into the flames.

They continued to approach their targets... but they were also badly blackened, and seemed a tiny bit slower in their movements now... (The remaining robots each take some damage (how much? Only your gamemaster knows for sure, but it'll make 'em easier to finish taking down, I promise...)

GM rolls dice...)

One robot came up and punched Scorch Scale... but then fell over, smoking from the inside... (See?)
(Scorch Scale takes 2 new stress.)

This left only the little robot, who grabbed for Scraps' tail, but missed...

Scraps was scared.
And he needed a second to catch my breath.

As the metal thing tried to grab him again, Scraps dodged left, then right ... barked, then darted again to the left and took off at full speed back to the safest place he knew: Goodwill.

And a second was something Scorch Scale was willing to give.  He let out another spout of flame to get at the tiny machine to end it's terror.

It's clobbering time!
15:49, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 9 using 2d6+2 ((6,1)).

--There isn’t much collateral damage and no bystanders are left in danger

Gil scooped up Scraps and left the last machine to Scorch while he checked his puppy for injuries. If Scraps was hurt, there'd be no safe place on Earth for this 'Cogster' to hide.

If the robot wasn't destroyed by Scorch's attack, though, Gil was prepared to kick the little robot to New Jersey.

Scorch Scale destroys the pup-sized robot.

Goodwill decides that Scraps could use a minute or so to catch his breath, but his natural regenerative ability hadn't been too taxed yet...

...not yet, anyway.

"Well, that was a bracing warm-up," The Cogster observed, safe in his force-fielded cell. "Took out the new fellow, at least. Didn't even catch his name. Oh well, easy come, easy go. A pleasantly-entertaining preliminary before the main challenge."

"Hey!" says Blue Dragon. "Hey guys! Can you get me out of this cell? If you can, I'll team up with you to help you get out of here! C'mon, I'm electrical, you're up against technology, it's a natural! Help me help you!"

"Ooh that's fair!" said The Impersonator. "Let me out too and I can copy whatever that knocked-out dude can do! Except I would, like, duck if a robot tried to smack me upside the head..."

"Before any of you guys suggest anything, can we all agree the trinket tramp stays in his cell?" Scorch Scale said, with a whopping of his tail against the old man's barrier.

"What do you think? Now the practice run has turned into a case for our own survival, things have changed." Scorch Scale asked of their tour guide. What with the situation having turned grim.

"I agree that that man with the dragon in him can stay in there," says the man in the suit. "He's much creepier than the others," he adds in a whisper.

"As for the others... I can't open The Cogster's cell from here, because we took all sorts of precautions, but I can let either of the others out if you judge it necessary. The Impersonator seems like quite a flight risk to me, but I have to admit Blue Dragon might be particularly useful... If you decide to let him out at all."

"What we need to do is get up to the 4th-floor control room... I'm hoping that from there, we can take back control of the building..."

"I'd hope that enlightened self-interest would prevail with those two," Goodwill said of the Impersonator and Blue Dragon. "We don't know that Cogster is any less of a danger to them than to us, ultimately."

"...Whatever you decide..." said the man in the black suit, and he looked at Scorch Scale to see what he would say (since he didn't expect an answer out of Scraps)...

... and yet, there was.

“Bark Bark“, as Scraps licked Goodwill’s face, wagging his tail happily.

Scorch Scale didn't know what the abilities of their unconscious colleague were, so it was an uncertain factor of what the Imposter would provide.

"All right, let's get Spark Lizard out. I know I can contain him of he gets out of hand." Scorch Scale turns back to the woman, "I'm sure there will be another job to try redeeming yourself." he said off handedly.

The man in the black suit opened up a panel next to Blue Dragon's cell entrance, and pushed several buttons.

Blue Dragon cautiously reached forward... and found nothing stopping his hand. "Great!" he said, and he quickly stepped out of the cell. "Okay, guys, good, this is good. I'll follow your lead... Anything else we need to do or talk about before we start trying to head upstairs...?" He glances at the man in the black suit. "I guess we're bringin' him, too, huh...?"

The man in the black suit nods. "I may be able to get you through some areas that otherwise would be locked..."

"Since you guys ain't sayin' nothin', I guess we're takin' him. Fine-- so are we ready to go, or what?"

"I thought it was obvious, we need him for doors like we need you for bots, or an electric meadow you humans jammer on about.
Other than that and what to do about our unconscious soldier, put him in a cell for safety and away we go." Scorch Scale dismissively said as he carried the body towards a cell.

Goodwill tucked scraps into the crook of his arm, like the world's cutest football. He fell into step alongside Scorch Scale as he returned from dropping their unconscious 'ally' in one of the empty cells.

"So, why do you suppose Coggler isn't just trying to escape?" he asked. "Seems like he's taking on a lot of extra risk for not a lot of reward."

"For something that occurs in both humans and dragons. Ego, probably hates how me and my old allies messed up his "business" prospects." Scorch Scale said with a tone that said their kind of business.

"I agree, for what it's worth..." said the man in the black suit. "I say, he can't escape. You have no idea how hard we worked to keep that from happening. He can't let his cellmates out, either. It didn't occur to us to be as careful about not letting him turn this place into a trap for his guards, too-- nor for you people." He paused. "Say, should I turn the force field in the unconscious man's cell on? Just to protect him from stray robots? ...Or... I mean, I guess I could leave it off in case he wakes up and wants to come find us... But I don't think that's going to happen at all soon..."

Scorch Scale turned to the man and went into his messenger bag - something rare for the dragon to have. He pulled out a walkie-talkie and placed it within the cell, holding up another to show the others.
"Now we can." He simply said.

"I understand-- if he wakes up, he can call us and tell us," says the man in the black suit. He stepped back out and re-activated the force field. "And in the meantime, he should be safe if any more robots show up. Let's go."

The man leads you out of the prison area, and to a hallway.

Scorch Scale's senses detect something amiss ahead... He reports this the the man in the suit.

"Oh, really? Great, the invisible eyes are on?" He shakes his head and walks to a spot on the wall and opens a hidden panel, and flips a switch.

The hallway ahead is suddenly covered in red laser beams. "...At least now we can see them... We can turn these off by getting past these without tripping the electric eyes," explains the man. "There's a button on the floor down on that end that'll do it. The way I see it, there's three ways to try this:

--There are fewer beams near the ceiling... Goodwill here could try flying over and trying not to accidentally cross a beam.

--Scorch Scale, I'm told you can really move... you could try some kind of acrobatics if you want...

--Finally... How smart is the pup? He's so small, that if you can make him understand, he could go along the floor and maybe miss all the beams... I don't suppose he's trained well enough that you could get him to go down there and step on the button...?

Because I don't even know exactly what would happen if any of these beams got tripped...

...Or do any of you have any other bright ideas...?"

"What do you think, Scraps?" Goodwill asked his puppy. Scraps was bright enough to take these instructions... he hoped. He was bright, but still a puppy. "Can you avoid the bad, bad lights?"

Scraps probably could: if someone were to explain it to him in puppy terms (physical gestures, sounds, emoting, that sort of thing).
Right now, he doesn't understand the human speech that is going on.

I'm going to insist that someone role-play an attempt to explain the situation to Scraps, in a way that an intelligent puppy might understand.
Cos that will be fun to watch/read.

Scorch Scale was a little annoyed that he didn't have the words for dog speak. Something much needed for the poor, confused mutt. As a dragon was naturally on top of the animal food chain. They would be on top of the sapient food chain, but the occasional magical knight or sorcerer were a thorn in a dragon's ego.

Back at the current problem, without words he knew the predicament. How to get this across.

"All right pup, you better not touch those." The dragon pointed with a tail dangerously close to a beam, "Or else you go in the naughty corner." Scorch Scale then pointed towards a corner nearest to where they were currently.

Then there was a small silence, as Scorch Scale asks - not meekly, for no dragon is meek - Goodwill "You got a treat or something?"

"Always," Goodwill replied, pulling a small bone-shaped doggie treat out of one of his pockets. Scraps knew there were more where that one came from. He gave the treat to scraps and scratched his neck as he ate it.

"Okay, what Scorch here said is right. We want to go under the beams or over them, but we don't want to touch them." Goodwill emphasized this by putting a hand above one of the beams, then under it, but making very sure not to <i>cross the beam at any time. "And then we want to press the button at the end."

With no button to press for emphasis on this, he settled for booping the dog's nose.

"Got it?"

As Scorch Scale talked to him, Scraps just stared.   His head tilted a little afterwards.

But then Goodwill was getting one of those very tasty treats out of that special place, and Scraps could barely contain himself.
His tail was wagging so hard in excited anticipation that it was wagging the rest of his body with it.
And he gobbled it up with puppy appetite levels of enthusiasm.

But then ... these treats weren’t just good, they were prelude to a new trick that Gil wanted Scraps to do.
And if Scraps did the trick, well, he got another treat.

So he paid attention to what Gil was showing him.
Yes.  Yes.  Yes, he understood.
Scraps knew just what to do ... and was ready to do it.   For another treat!
         - rolled 9 using 2d6 with rolls of 4,5.  Insight, to actually understand

When Gil gave him the go ahead, Scraps began making his way through the red light strings.
He went under the beams.
He went over the beams.
Until he reached the other side.
          - rolled 7 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 2,2.  Agility to weave through beams.

UGH. That was STRESSFUL. Scraps was EXHAUSTED. He walked over and plopped down.

There was a "click" noise under his chin.

The shiny red lines in the hallway went off. Good.

(Scraps has pushed himself to his limits... he gets -1 ongoing until he's had a while to rest... he'll have to be carried again for a while.

On the other hand, he was successful in turning off the security laser beams without activating them.)

"That's my boy!" Goodwill said, rushing to Scraps' side. He gave the exhausted puppy another treat and scooped him back up into his arms. "Good boy!"

The man in the black suit walks forward to the door at the far end of the hall. He opens it, and peeks through it. "Mm," he muses. "There's one robot down there guarding the next door... I should have authorization to bypass it, but nothing's guaranteed anymore... You lads ready to back me up just in case...?"

(Note: Until further notice, Goodwill is carrying Scraps. Goodwill therefore

1. will be doing everything with only one hand free for a bit.

2. will need to be careful to protect Scraps if combat starts.

3. will need to be careful, if he puts Scraps down, that he does so where he'll be safe and where no one will, for example, step on him (Handing him off to Scorch Scale is certainly an option, but then Scorch Scale will have the same problems, etc.))

"One robot? I almost feel insulted." Scorch Scale said, with a huff he added "I'm sure we can keep you safe if you approach."

You enter the next area.

The robot ignores you.

The man in the black suit walks up to the robot. "Robot, step aside and let us out of the way. Authorization code B-2099-Delta."

The robot answers after a few seconds: "...That authorization code is not recognized..."

The man sort of sneers and sighs at the same time. "He's wiped it, from this one, at least--"

"--Any further commands given, or physical force used, will be met with reinforcements and an armed response, with all safety protocols disengaged," the robot interrupts.

"Well, so much for that," the man says to you quietly. "But we have to go this way. It's either get ready to fight him and a lot of reinforcements... or somehow talk him out of standing here without using any command codes. He's in 'interactive' mode, which means he'll listen to reason and logic... if ours is better than his... You guys got any ideas...?"

(This may call for a Charming roll...)

"Reasoning you say... Of all things." Scorch Scale mused with his arms crossed.
"I am not one to talk, but I might be able to deal with this bot without alerting it, want to try it?" He said, looking at local goody-two-shoes Goodwill.

Goodwill walked up to the robot, stopping a couple of paces back. He continued to carry poor, exhausted Scraps.

"Robot," he said, "whose authority do you recognize?"

It was kind of a stupid question, but he had to start somewhere.

(Goodwill, make a Charming roll, please.)

Today: Goodwill rolled 4 using 2d6+1 ((1,2)).

Uh oh...

(Goodwill gets 1 new xp.)

"Command to give information not recognized," says the robot. "Response: armed reinforcements with all safety protocols disengaged..."

Stupid robot. It wasn't exactly a "command to give information," but apparently stupid passive-aggressive unhelpful robot is unhelpful, big surprise.

Hidden alcoves in the wall slide open, and three new robots (of the same size as this one) appear.

They all come at you, arms upraised, all attack-y. You have about 2 seconds to respond...

Goodwill uses this time to put Scraps down and scoot him back the way they came....

Scorch Scale realises they need breathing room from the robots. He knew what he had to do. He readied a flame in his throat to spread out and surround them, making all robots face harm.

I intend to use the hold off move to make them all possibly back off, or be separated so we get breathing room.
If that's possibly OP, do you need an Agile roll for how quick Scorch Scale needs to do this?

(I don't think it's OP... go ahead and use the Hold Them Off move normally)

Hold them off
15:21, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 10 using 2d6+2 ((3,5)).

--They can’t attack anyone they weren’t already attacking
--You draw them away from people you choose (our group?)

The flames may not last forever, but it will give them time, time enough that maybe Scorch Scale might remove part of the problem.

The robots continue to attack, walking right through Scorch Scale's wall of fire.

BUT...

1. Little bits of them melt off... little antennas and camera lenses fall off

and

2. They take damage from walking through the wall of fire.

The missing pieces that the robots have lost seem to hurt their ability to tell ally from foe. They are confused, as likely to attack one another as those they see as their opponents.

(GM rolls dice...

...The dice rolls are incredibly good for Team Good Guys)

Three of the robots attack each other. One of them, attacked by the other two, falls, and stops clanking and beeping.

The fourth attacks Scorch Scale... but misses.

It's the good guys' turn again!

The two robots that are fighting each other give Goodwill an idea. Face to face as they are, they're extremely open to having their heads slammed together in a single blow.

Goodwill rolled 12 using 2d6+2 ((4,6)).
--You hit hard (+1 Stun)
--You avoid most of their retaliation (-1 Stun)

BONK!

(I've said it before but I'll say it again... it's hard to argue with a result of 12...)

That's two more down... One left...

(Scorch Scale's turn...)

Scorch Scale wasn't going to let himself get shown up. Keeping in mind the people he was defending, Scorch Scale walked right up to the robot, grabbed its head and let out a plume of precise flames to overheat whatever was powering it.

It's clobbering time!
17:19, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 14 using 2d6+2 ((6,6)).

You hit extra hard
You avoid collateral damage

It's also hard to argue against a 14. Way to waste a good roll on a weak moment, virtual random number generator.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:58, Fri 23 Aug 2019.

(Still, that was awesome)

Every rivet and bolt on the robot popped out and/or melted. It fell apart like it had never been welded nor soldered in any way.

A small circular object about the size and shape of a quarter rolled out of the torso, and the man in the black suit picked it up. "Hey, this is a turbo-magnetic diode mini-transistor-- it normally takes hours with a full set of tools to remove one of these once it's installed," he says. "This could be useful later..."

The destruction of the robots was so inspiring, even Scraps felt able to stand up and walk on his own, even though he was still just a little lightheaded.

(Scraps may now act normally, except that his -1 ongoing will last a little longer...)

The man in the black suit opens the door ahead of you, and you head up a flight of stairs...

"All right, we're on the ground floor now," he says. "And the important thing is to make sure..."

He stops talking, just staring straight ahead.

"The important thing is...?" Gil prodded, following the man's gaze to see what had caught his eye.

Scraps followed along, sniffing at everything.

OOP. What caught the man's eye was that a hidden panel had slid open on the wall over there, and a screen showed a sort of hypnowheel...



(Each of you make a Confident check to resist the hypnowheel. Goodwill, you (and Scraps, still mentally exhausted from his ordeal of heavy concentration in the laser-eye hallway) get -1.)

Goodwill rolled 6 using 2d6 ((3,3)).

Had he not been exhausted, Goodwill might have just barely resisted the hypno-wheel... but tired as he was, he fell prey to its influence.

Confident
23:09, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 9 using 2d6 ((5,4))

Rage ability to 10 this?

Scorch Scale saw the pattern, it was getting to the human part of his mind, it might affect this dragon half - not that it would ever admit to such.
He wasn't going to let this pattern get to him.

- rolled 4 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,1.  Confidence .


Scraps stood beside Goodwill, and looked at the pretty picture.
He looked at it.

          Look at it.

                    Look.  A pretty picture.


                                 Look.


                                             Look at it.


                                                                        Loooooook.

(I will allow you to use Rage to kick it up to 10...

...I think Drocan will NOT try to take control of you immediately... he'll bide his time... So you don't have to roll for control against him yet...)

(Scorch Scale uses some of Drocan's power to resist the hypnowheel image on the screen, but he's also aware that Drocan might challenge him for control of the body at any time.

For now, however, Drocan seems to be biding his time and waiting for a more perfect moment.)

Scorch Scale, alone, is able to resist the hypnowheel image.

So it is he and he alone who realizes that the floor has started acting like a moving sidewalk or conveyor belt, moving everyone toward a panel that has slid open in the wall...

He has time to move everyone off of it, though, and put them over to the side where the floor isn't moving under their feet...

Scorch Scale looked around, hoping to find out if the screen could be damaged without sending an alarm to Coaster, or if something could cover his companions eyes, as he had limited knowledge of the techniques involved.

(Hm. Roll Insightful.)

Insight
23:16, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 5 using 2d6+1 ((2,2)).

Oops

(Scorch Scale takes 1 new xp and takes -1 forward from general confusion/befuddlement.)

Honestly, nothing brilliant occurs to him. Scorch Scale is gonna have to try something without the benefit of clever insight.

Are the surroundings closed off? Scorch Scale might take 5 if he can and recover.

(You can always go back the way you came... Would you move your companions, though? (Scraps is easy, but Goodwill is heavy when he's not flying))

Scorch Scale will have to try, he wants to heal, but he ain't a coward.

(He's gonna try... what, exactly...?)

Dragging Goodwill along the floor by his arms?

(Just checking.)

About halfway through Scorch Scale dragging Goodwill away, Goodwill starts to come out of it.

(Scraps can also wake up, and you will be able to gently wake the man in the black suit.

Everyone who wakes up should be careful not to look directly at the hypnowheel again right away...)

"What the heck was that?" Goodwill asked, shaking his head. The world had started to spin and then... what had happened? He started to turn back in the direction of the hypno-wheel, but thought better of it at the last instant.

"Someone give me something I can throw at that," he said. Playing baseball, he'd been an all-state pitcher in high school. That was before his powers developed and he dropped out of the game, but he still had an excellent throwing arm. He could hit that target with one hand tied. "I'll knock it out from here."

Scraps was having the most wonderful dream, about a very pretty picture spinning and moving.
It was very pretty.

He looked around to see if it was still nearby.
It was so pretty, he wanted to watch it all day.   It was almost as dreamy as that flying pup on Paw Patrol.

Oh, oh.  He got so excited when he looked over there and saw it again ... he started to bark, but forgot, as he looked at the prreeetttyy ppiiccttttuuurrrrr_........

Scorch Scale sees the pup completely stop in its tracks, and without looking at the screen, covers the pups eyes.

"About that, I didn't exactly find any objects to smash it while I was looking to cover it.
If we're just smashing, I could just burn up the screen and tell you it's a-OK." The dragon proposed. He gestured with a thumb back to where the danger was.
"Besides, we need to be aware, I think there were traps to exploit our drooling state of a daze."

"Burn it, then." Goodwill said with a nod. "Whatever gets it done is okay with me."

Scorch Scale left Goodwill to himself for a moment. He adjusted his position and - being aware of where he shouldn't look - got ready to blast the screen with his fire.

Forceful
08:28, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 4 using 2d6+2 ((1,1)).

Well well well... Drat.

(Scorch Scale gains 1 new XP, but takes -1 forward.)

Scorch Scale's sensitive senses tell him that a forcefield (that wasn't there before) pops up when he tries to destroy the hypnoscreen... then when the flames stop, the forcefield stops again.

Goodwill tore out a section of the wall. He used it as a shield as he blindly charged down the hallway.

(Hmmmm... roll Confident, please)

Goodwill rolled 5 using 2d6+1 ((3,1)).


Bah.

Goodwill:

Goodwill rolled 5 using 2d6+1 ((3,1)).

Bah.

Goodwill CLANGS against a force field.

He's tough enough that he's not injured, but it's a little embarrassing, and the hypnoscreen is undamaged...

(Goodwill takes -1 forward, but gets 1 new xp...)

"This is going no where." Scorch Scale said in frustration, being at wits end how it didn't buckle under Goodwill of all things.

Seeing the problem, Scorch Scale removed strips of his tunic from areas where immodesty would be acceptable. Then he handed two strips to Goodwill and one to their guide. "Take these, cover yourselves, hold each others hands and I will take you past the screen without concern."

Scorch Scale didn't want to walk into the trap blind, but it was this or incapacitated. They were playing by someone else's rules right now.

The Man in the Black Suit is nonplussed when Scorch Scale is woken up. "Oh, the hypnoscreen, right. It figures. We put it in specifically to try to deal with the risk of Spite escaping, if and when anyone ever caught 'er..."

The heroes (and man) continue onward, and soon the spot where the hypnoscreen is is out of sight.

"All right, this next one is problematic, but everything has been so far," says the man, stopping in front of a new door. "In this next room, the walls will be throwing stuff at you-- mostly jets of very hot steam, for example-- but the floor will be slippery in spots, too. That wouldn't be a problem for Goodwill, except that the room fights a lot harder if it detects someone flying-- another Spite-related precaution. And there's no switch to turn this one off, except from the control room-- we'll just have to get through it... Any questions first...?"

"No questions yet, but I may have a couple once we get in there."

"...Well I understand that, and I'm sure I'd be the same way, but things are going to be happening pretty fast and alarming once we get in there, and there might not be a lot of time to communicate, so..."

Hot steam... The implication of that was not entirely lost on Scorch Scale, he knew that it would affect the man of lightning, but it might just harm Scorch Scale too, of he isn't careful.

"How long is the next room? How does the door open on the other side?" He asked the questions that would make their next journey smoother, if he was lucky.

"About 30 yards, I'd say. The door is just a steel handle that you push down on..."

"That tells me all I need to know." Scorch Scale lies, despite his desire to know if the steam was intended for him, he was too full of pride to admit that it might work.

He turned back to his heroic companions. "I think I know as much as I'm ever going to without stepping through. Are we ready?" He asked the entourage.

"Let's do it."

(To start with: everybody do an Agile check.

Goodwill, are you going to be flying? You get a +1 to your Agile roll if you do, but it'll also hurt you worse if you don't make a fully successful roll that way.

Also: Are you going to be carrying Scraps, or letting him move on his own down where it's safer?)
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:07, Thu 26 Sept 2019.

[Goodwill will be flying, so his +1 will cancel out his -1 forward. He'll be letting Scraps walk, mostly because I think the player might have abandoned us.]

Rolling Agile:
Goodwill rolled 10 using 2d6 ((6,4)).

Scraps jumped about playfully when put down.
Kinda ignorant to the danger of all this, he was having a fun time ... and the little nap had done a lot to refresh him, in the short term.

When they entered the room, he’d cavort around a little, but move to keep pace with Goodwill.
- rolled 10 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 2,5.  Agility.

Scorch Scale rolls his shoulders and loosens up the body to try and be agile. He would have to agile for both him, and anyone who fell to the wayside.

Here, they, go!

Agile
01:47, Today: Scorch Scale rolled 10 using 2d6+1 ((6,3)).

Wait, remembered the panalty, so that's -1 = 9... I can make do.

Let's dodge some danger.

The room has oily patches that seep up from between the cracks in the smooth metal plates that comprise the floor...

Scraps, on the floor, and Goodwill, in the air, avoid all the scalding-hot jets of steam-- Goodwill even avoids bursts of strange energy that shoot out of holes higher on the walls occasionally... the steam hisses, and the energy makes a "pew!" sound when it emerges, which helps one know when and where to dodge from...

But Scorch Scale, running, hopping, dodging, momentarily bumps into the man in the black suit, and the man slips and falls...

...Somebody save him before he gets broiled!

(Probably Agile again, right...?)

Scraps was swift to move.   He might not be any good with pretty, spinning pictures and metal men ... but saving people was something that any hero dog knew by heart and instinct.

As the man fell, Scraps was there.
He quickly latched on to the man's collar, and using the slippery floor to his advantage, began sliding the man along the floor to safety.
       - rolled 10 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 2,5.  Romantic Idiot

Scraps was doing a good job dragging the man out of danger... three jets of steam just missed the man's feet in three seconds... but he was just a puppy, and could use help...

Goodwill reached out to grab the man...

Goodwill rolled 4 using 2d6 ((2,2)).

...and came away with an empty sleeve, having yanked it right off his body without moving him so much as an extra inch.

(Yeah, no, I agree. There's "literal miss" and then there's "didn't work for whatever reason," and the latter is often gonna support the narrative more strongly, so it's often the better way to go)

Goodwill gets hit by a jet of scalding-hot steam. Ow, that hurt even him a little.

(Goodwill gets 1 new xp but takes 1 new stress.

Scorch Scale, you wanna do something to try to help...?)

The Man in the Black Suit gets back to his feet. "Thanks, Pup... Let's keep going--!"

(Do one last Agile roll (for this room, anyway), guys...)

Damn. I've been so busy this last week, I forgot all about this game.

Goodwill rolled 7 using 2d6 ((1,6)).

As Scraps skipped through the dangers of the room, he bounded over to wait for Goodwill by yonder door.
- rolled 10 using 2d6+3 with rolls of 2,5.  More Agility ... as requested .

Goodwill takes another blast from the room's defenses, but only a glancing hit.

(Goodwill takes 1 stress.)

The man in the black suit, however, watching carefully where Scraps stepped, managed (like Scraps), to avoid all damage.

The foursome managed to make it to the far door without further damage.

"Okay," said the man in the black suit, "last obstacle, straight ahead-- there's a large room with a large robot in it. But that's just fighting-- I think between Goodwill and Scorch Scale, you should be able to handle it fine. I can tell you right now, there a panel on its back you should attack, whenever possible, at least. It shouldn't attack me nor the pup as long as we don't attack it, either." He pauses. "Do I need to hold the pup? Will he let me? Or can you make him understand to stay out of the way? Or should I not worry...?"

"He might let you hold him, but that's kind of up to him. He's still a puppy, so he does what he wants a lot of the time. But if I tell him to stay back, he'll generally listen to me." To emphasize this statement, he pointed to Scraps and said sternly, "Stay."

Scraps would probably stay put... but if Goodwill caught a face full of robot, all bets were off.

"Good boy."

Instinctively Scraps sat.  He was a well-trained pup, after all.
He was, by definition, 'a good boy'.

He did cock his head to one side though, not sure why Gil was telling him to stay.
And those big puppy-dog eyes held a look of confusion ... and disappointment.

Scraps didn't like not being with Gil ... he didn't like being left behind.

"Okay then..." said the man in the black suit, "let's go..."

Goodwill, Scorch Scale, the man in the black suit entered the next room, followed by Scraps. (Surely it would be all right for him to stay in sight of his master? No one was stopping him...)

In the middle of the room was, indeed, a large robot, two stories high, but at the same time more thick and squat of build and the earlier models. It looked even more armored, too...

But it also looked powered-down. "This feels like a trap," the man in the black suit whispered. "Should you hurry and try to rip open the panel back behind it? Or should we not look a gift horse in the mouth, and just try to tiptoe past it...?"

"I'm all for doing this the fast-and-sneaky way, if it'll let me," Goodwill said. "But since when does anything go according to plan around here...?"

Scraps, having been told to 'sit', was doing so.
Scraps was a good boy.

Until Gil told him otherwise (or possibly until Scraps felt Gil was in danger), he would do as he'd been told.
Scraps sat a the doorway from the last room.

(Okay:

Scraps: Confident check please...)

- rolled 5 using 2d6+1 with rolls of 2,2.  Confident Check.

(Scraps gets 1 new xp, and takes -1 forward.)

Lizard-Man and Black-Clothes-Man started sneaking around the side of the big robot. Master was quietly flying right near them. They all gestured to Scraps to come, quietly, too, so he did.

But something-- something he saw? Heard? Smelled?-- distracted Scraps. It distracted him SO BAD.

He barked! Loud!

The big robot lit up, and turned right toward them...

(Scraps, what exactly was it that made you forget yourself and bark? If you want (and if you can figure out how), it could possibly be something that could maybe somehow be turned to the group's advantage in the next round...)

Scraps was a clever dog.   And being from a long line of fire pups, he knew that acrid smell in his bones.
Well, in his nose.   Lets say, for argument sake, he knew that smell in his nose bones.

It was the faint, but undeniable, smell of fire.
Those first whiffs of something beginning to burn ... something about to combust.
Something manmade, not natural.  Electronics.

Something electronic, deep inside the metal man, was going wrong ... and Scraps could tell that it was about to do that thing that Gil's toaster had done a few weeks ago; before the smoke had started wafting from it, and the flames came from within.

The robot's metal guts were, Scraps could tell with his very clever nose, starting to spark ... and not in a good way.

Scraps barked: he had to tell Gil that something was wrong.  That fire was on its way.


Gil had long been a part of Scraps' training, and came from a long line of firefolk himself.
Scraps had no doubt that his friend would understand.

(Nice.

Goodwill, you may try to figure out exactly why Scraps barked, if you want (INSIGHTFUL).

Or you can do something else-- run for the far door (AGILE), fight the robot (FORCEFUL), try to get to the robot's back panel (AGILE), something else...?)

Scraps was barking. Why...? Was there something else going on that Gil had missed?

Goodwill rolled 9 using 2d6+1 ((3,5)).

In a split-second, Goodwill examined the situation, and his gaze caught on a ventilation panel on the big robot. It was very thick titanium, but-- there was a flame back there? Yes, the thing was just barely starting to emit wisps of smoke, and since this was presumably not a wood-burning robot... it meant that the robot must be starting to malfunction, badly. Why? Who knows? But it meant two things:

1. Maybe the robot would stop working soon.

2. Maybe the robot was going to explode soon.

But WHICH it meant-- or would it be BOTH? --Goodwill didn't know.

The important thing was-- what was he going to do about it?

While he was evaluating and thinking, the robot had started closing in, its big arms and hands moving toward either side of Goodwill and his colleagues, to keep them from going back or forward (or was it just gonna try to squish 'em?)...

"Fire in the hole!" Goodwill shouted, pivoting towards Scorch Scale. If the robot was about to do something involving large quantities of fire, he was the man for the job. Goodwill linked hands with the dragon-man, and turned and hurled him towards the robot.

Goodwill rolled 8* using 2d6+2 ((3,3)).

As soon as Scorch Scale was in the air, Goodwill grabbed the man in the suit and dragged him down to the ground, doing his best to cover Scraps in the bargain.

---

*= Thanks for that +2!

AT THAT MOMENT, just as Scorch Scale left Goodwill's hand, Goodwill sensed... something was... wrong.

Something in the feel of Scorch Scale's body language...?

(11:36, Today: The Grandmaster, on behalf of Scorch Scale, rolled 5 using 2d6 ((1,4)). Confident roll, to resist being taken over by Drocan: FAIL)

"AH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH HAH! FREE! FREE! THE TIME OF DROCAN ON THE EARTH IS RETURNING! FEAR, MORTALS! FEAR THE RISE OF DROCAN! YOUR MACHINES OF WAR ARE AS NOTHING TO ME...!"

(Forceful: 11:44, Today: Drocan rolled 9 using 2d6+2 ((6,1)).)

Drocan cuts loose with a blast of flame that engulfs most of the room.

(11:44, Today: Drocan rolled 9 using 2d6+2 ((6,1)).

Goodwill takes 1 new stress.

Scraps is not burnt by the flames, but he takes 1 stress because wow, this is scary.)

The robot takes most of the attack... and explodes.

(Forceful: 11:48, Today: Drocan rolled 12 using 2d6+2 ((5,5)).)

Drocan, in Scorch Scale's body, manages to create a firewall that protects him from the explosion.

(Goodwill takes 1 new stress.

Scraps takes no damage, but takes 1 new stress, because that was actually MORE scary! Worse than the Fourth of July!)

Drocan looks around. "AND NOW TO ESCAPE FROM THIS PRISON...!" He rushes to the door by which the group entered the room... But pauses at the doorway. "No... no... it IS a prison... the whole point is that escape is not possible yet, even for Drocan, if such a gaol can hold Aegrim, the black dragon of Wyre... And I feel the boy returning... Verily, a double prison... Curses upon... upon..."

Scorch Scale reaches out and holds onto the doorframe. "...Hey guys..." he says weakly. "So, uh, sorry about that..."

Goodwill stood up. The back of his shirt had been burned away, so he pulled away the front half and tossed it aside. Scraps looked unhurt, but scared. He couldn't tell if the guy in the suit was hurt or not.

"Don't worry about it," Goodwill said in reply to Scorch Scale. Being semi-possessed by a dragon-spirit had to be tough on a guy. Goodwill shrugged that off like he shrugged off the flames, and knelt to see if the guy in the suit was okay or not. "You hurt?"

The man in the black suit got his clothes slightly singed, but otherwise he's unhurt. Rattled, but unhurt.

"I'll be... all right..." he said. "The robot definitely shouldn't have attacked me... trying to reprogram it to do so must've caused a meltdown... although breathing fire at it probably didn't hurt."

He dusted himself off. "...Control room up ahead... Shall we continue...?"

In the sudden explosion of flames, Scraps had scampered to Goodwill and buried himself as deeply as he could into the heroes arms, shivering with adrenaline and fear.
Scraps whimpered.

"It's okay, boy. It's okay." Gil did his best to soothe the terrified puppy, stroking his fur and speaking in a calming voice. "Were almost done here."

If the control room was up ahead, then maybe Cogstein, or whatever he called himself, was finally within reach.

"Let's go."

The next door was passed through easily... the man in black ignored a couple of doors and intersections, continuing to move in a straight line. He came to a very thick, reinforced door, and tapped on a keypad next to it.

It buzzed. "You are kidding me," he said. "Even this?" He glanced at Goodwill. "I was assured that this door, and the walls, were flame-proof enough even to handle that nameless dragon fellow we've got downstairs," he said, "but my engineers were less sure about Spite. We were mostly hoping that the more passive things like the hypnoscreen could sideline 'er if it had to. Son, you wanna give a shot at pulling this door out of the doorframe? I've had enough of this, if we can just get in through this way..."

(Forceful)
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:28, Mon 11 Nov 2019.

"No problem," Goodwill said. He cracked his knuckles and then punched a hole in the wall next to the door. He dug through the more common building materials until his fingers found the steel of the doorframe. He felt around until he found a suitable grip.

Putting one foot up against the wall, ge gripped the doorframe with both hands and pulled.

Goodwill rolled 13 using 2d6+2 ((6,5)).

The man in black shook his head and the metal creaked, groaned, and finally shrieked. "Gonna have to figure more things out for if anyone ever catches Spite... but for now, I'm happy to have this door open..."

He stepped past the twisted metal, and entered the room. Several anxious guards pointed guns at him... and then quickly holstered their guns, and saluted. "Sir!" the nearest shouted. "We've been trying to deactivate each security subsystem as you came to it, but with no results, sir..."

"I know, I know... but-- for security reasons-- I know a few things you boys don't." The man in black stepped over to the nearest keyboard, and started typing in long strings of numbers and letters.

All the screens went black... except for the white words RESTARTING IN SAFE MODE on each of them.

"The system's restarting," he told the heroes. "But look at this dial over here-- see how it's all the way to the left? Not in the red at all? That's good-- for us. Safe Mode means the power's still going to the cells... the prisoners are as secure as they were before. But restarting the system should mean that the traps are all deactivated for the rest of us, and that the robots will do what we tell them, and that you people can leave. Maybe someday we'll get you back up here to try this again, but for now, we'll have to have our own scientists work on debugging everything-- maybe get the boys from MIT back down here-- and The Cogster won't be allowed out of 'is cell again for a long, long time..."

"If it makes you feel any better, I think I'm stronger than Spite." Goodwill wasn't entirely sure about that, but when they clashed he'd turned a lot of the negative sentiment against her from hatred to pity. That had to have cut into her power base.

But it is pretty easy to get people to hate, these days, he thought.

"Still, better safe than sorry."

Scraps leapt up into Gil's arms, with a playful bark, and licked his face.