You have gotten a message requesting you to appear at a spot just outside the city walls of New York (Southside), on a certain day (soon) at a certain time (three hours after sundown).

You are requested to come as inconspicuously, as unnoticeable, as possible.

The message is signed by Batman.

THE Batman. Of Gotham.

But why has he sent this to you...?

Only one way to find out...

(Describe how you arrive at the appointed time and place...)

Could this possibly be some sort of joke? A trick? But if it was, the question was Why? Nobody knew that Jhonen Jhonez was anything other than a plainclothes officer in the civic guard, so who would bother playing such a joke at all? This had to come from someone who knew his secret, and it would take someone like the Batman to eke out Jhonen's secrets in the first place.

So he had to proceed with the possibility that this was a real message, from the real Batman.

Naturally, Jhonen arrived early. Hours early. He stood near the designated area, invisible to all prying eyes, and waited.

When he had received the message at home in his castle, Malkos had pondered it in private. The Batman? Such tales as he had heard of that one ran through the dungeon master's head. Hmm.

Traveling south and east to New York was not difficult, though he would normally ride some monstrous beast to get there faster. Doing, well, pretty much anything inconspicuously was hard for him to manage though. How to achieve that? It took more than a long cloak to hide his height and the sound of hooves clattering on stone. And use of Mutoc magic to disguise himself was, as of yet, still beyond him (and hardly a high priority in his studies, either).

Perhaps a potion of inversion, to let him stay in the background rather than melting into the foreground and sticking there? No. Even if such a potion would reverse that property of his unsubtle nature, he lacked or could not spare the ingredients called for.

Then it struck him. Possession. He was a demon, so it stood to reason that he might be able to use the iconic magics of his kind in folklore. Still, he balked at trying to inhabit someone against their will.


So, on the designated day, he arrived at Southside... sharing the summoned flesh of a suave, urbane satyr bard. The soul who had been reborn into that fleshly form was having a marvelous time being a prancing satyr for the day. And come nightfall, the two-in-one were close by the designated place, checking out night-blooming herbs and the moths attending them while he/they waited.

In reply to The GM (msg # 1):

Johan arrived on the back of a cart, along with others coming to New York. The carts transported the poor and the dispossessed from place to place, and New York always needed cheap labor. Thus ferries and carts where set up to keep the workers coming and going from the city.

Johan himself had been sleeping in the forest when he found the note by his head. Which was odd, because he never told anyone where he had gone off to. That had been by design...the less he was around people, the safer everyone else would be.

Yet here he was...for reasons he did not quite understand. Still, despite his current homeless status, his outfit was clean and he stayed clean shaven. After all, the Rider did not much care about its victims possessions. However, Johan needed to eat, drink and sleep.

So he had coin enough to clean up in an inn and hire the cart. So, after getting strange looks for being more or less left outside the city gates, he walked to the location as described in the letter. He smiled and attempted to blend in, and after getting eyeballed by the guards a bit he went on his way.

So after a bit of a walk...he thought he may be getting close. He pulled his leather doublet around him to ward off the cold. Breathed into his hands to warm them up, and looked about.

"What the bloody hell am I doing here?" He said to himself. He had the bad habit of speaking his thoughts out loud. Mostly because the thing in his head might be listening. Of course, it no doubt could use his ears, so speaking would not help such matters either.

"Bet the Batman is just another silly myth!" He grumbled, kicking a rock as he walked...and nearly breaking his fool foot. "Blast it to hell!" He grumbled, staggering a bit and kept walking.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:52, Sat 13 June 2020.

“Many claim that Amazonia is but a myth,” said the statuesque warrior woman who stepped out from behind a massive oak tree. The “Woman of Wonders” stood before Johan, wearing her eagle-embossed red breastplate, blue pteryges, and red -silver boots. The hands pushing back the dark blue cloak bore silvery bracers. “I assure you that the Bat Man of Gotham is quite real,” Diana said with a smile.

“I can also assure you that he would appreciate your discretion in traveling here.” Diana’s eyes twinkled with mirth, as she added, “After he told you had done that could give you away, of course.” The Amazon chuckled at Bruce’s exacting nature, as he surely would have said that and more. “He is stern, but one of the most accomplished rogues I have ever known....and skilled at so much more.”

Diana pet the head of a shy fawn that bravely followed her into the open. “Go, little one. May Artemis guide and watch you in your days.” She watched the beast of the forest wander off. “I am grateful for companions who can speak in the Common tongue. What is your name, bold traveler?”

In reply to Wonder Woman (msg # 5):

Johan manages to reply but not with words. A suddenly appearing armored woman taller than him from seemingly nowhere caused him to respond in a more...natural way. By nearly leaping out of his skin, screaming, and bumping his head on a nearby tree branch.

"Bloody...hells...ow...where in the realms did you come from?" He said, rubbing his bruised head and answering his own question. He got all his answers by just looking at her. He had heard stories about Amazons...and thought them to be fairy tales as well.

"Ok...so Amazons, Human Bats, and...uh, other things are real." He of all people had no reason to disbelieve anything...other than the mercy of Gods and Men.

"My name is Johan Blaze. Calvaryman of the 7th legion." He paused. "Former Calvaryman, that is." He wished he had never joined, given the bitter betrayal his own legion was guilty of. Bonds of blood and war seemed to come to nothing these days.

"So...ah...you are a long way from your...your island? I think it was an island in the stories. May I ask your name, Lady?" He said, finally remembering his manners.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:47, Sun 14 June 2020.

A scream close by.

The satyr looked up from the mildly fragrant white blossoms he had been examining, alert for overlooked danger. But no, a man was conversing with someone, his ears told him now that he was paying closer attention to them.

Goat-like hooves, much daintier than Malkos' own, stepped through the undergrowth in the darkness as his host moved closer to see what or who it was speaking. He was still dressed in civilized clothes, a brightly-colored doublet of thick cloth and leather half-breeches. A barbat (a kind of lute) hung at his side on a strap over the opposite shoulder.