Hey, give him some credit.  At least he didn't pick two NFC teams.  That is more than most Bears fans could manage.  Quite impressive actually.  

But I will try again.  And i will cheer for the Purple again.

First, try to be clear about exactly what you are doing.  For example, 

 *Where did Ghiberti take a nap?  In the middle of the path?

*How many goodberries did the mage get?

*Where are you putting the bodies?  Behing the hut?  

For the next post:

*What exactly are you taking from the goblins?

*What are you doing with what is left?

*Who is carrying what?  (I'm not a stickler for encumbrance, but I will say "no" if it gets out of control.)

Second, consider what the next move is.  I'm assuming your taking a rest since two of you mentioned it.  Don't be afraid to post the next step if it looks likely that you are moving on.  For example, what do you want to do in the morning?  If you wanted to post about that it would be easier to keep things moving without waiting on the next post.  If something happens in the meantime to change things (Say, a giant appears at 5 a.m.) we just don't get there.  But it can help keep things moving.  

The battle over, Ghiberti cast Goodberry and handed some to Galydan.  (Assuming 7 of the 10 since he took 7 points damage, but please be specific.)  Then he simply dropped to the ground and took a nap – a little to the side of the path. 

That left Galydan and Loradove to search the bodies of the newly fallen goblins.  As the gnome noted, none of these would be answering any questions today.  The group hadn’t carried much with them, just a small amount of coinage and sack with a few dead critters in it.  In total you found:

*Coinage:  33 SP and 18 CP.

*8 shortswords

*8 shortbows, 6 of them probably worthy of using, and a bunch of arrows

*small sack containing the bodies of a rabbit, what might be a large rodent and a stirge.

It was time to rest.  It seemed the group would attempt to resume their rest.  The rest of the night passed uneventfully and this time the group was able to get a solid 8-hour break.  They roused themselves in the morning to an overcast day.  The path continued upwards towards the top of the ridge or back towards the bridge they had crossed the previous day. 

**Check out the Q&A thread for a few general comments**

Furious that her cloak had been damaged, Loradove quickly took aim at the offending goblin and put a hole in more than just its cloak.  Her arrow stuck deep in its side and it groaned as it felt the force of her vengeance.  Little did it know the anger it had unleashed with that one rip of cloth. 

Bu the goblin was not to have time to learn from it’s mistake as it quickly became the target of one of Galydan’s magic missiles.   The glowing dart quickly finished off what the arrow had started and the goblin with fashion anger issues collapsed to the ground dead.  Next he aimed at goblin #7 (not #8 as suggested as that one is already dead.  Unless attacking corpses was really the intent.)  This one was already badly wounded and the lone dart was enough to finish it off.   The last dart went to lucky goblin #2.  The mage’s rain of death continued as a third straight injured goblin found the magic dart too much to survive.  Goblin #2 also collapsed dead.

Goblin #4 was now the last runt standing.  He seemed startled to see three of his fellows fall in quick order to the group’s attacks.  He turned and gave a hard whack at the Tortle with his sword, but the Ghiberti’s natural armor saved him.  After that the creature turned to run. 

Ghib’s seemed frustrated that his surprise attack the previous turn had yielded no contact and swung hard with his staff and caught the creature on the side of the head as it turned to run.  It was a crushing blow and the creature collapsed like a slashed cloak before it could take another step. 

The battle was now over.  Where a moment before a group of goblins had stood, now there were only corpses.  These goblins, at least, would be harming nobody in Botkinburg.  As the group surveyed the wreckage from the battle, they could discern nobody else in sight.  With the noise and tension of the battle gone, it was a quiet, clear night with the stars shining above.  It was only a little after midnight with most of the night still ahead of you.   Galydan was the only group member to sustain an injury.

(For your next post feel free to deal with the immediate situation and your next step in the big picture.  You are at the first hut on a path/road that switchbacks its way up the ridge.)

Blowz had been wandering along wondering about identity.  Then he'd been running his hand through his hair.  Then he'd been holding his hair.  In his hands, to be clear, not on his head.  He'd heard jokes about hairy palms, but he didn't think this is what they meant.  Oh well, he thought,

I guess this is why the computer made clones . . . 

Blowz woke up with a start.  He'd been walking.  Identity.  Hair.  Bad jokes.  Clones.  

Oh, yeah, clones.  He was one.  Blowz 2.0   Or some number anyway.  It was interesting to wonder how much the old Blowz had been changed by the radiation.  Was he different in some way from the new Blowz?  Aside from the hair, of course.  He ran his hand through his hair just to check.  And put his wonderful red hat back on his head.  Just to keep the hair there.  That was where it belonged.  On his head.  

And he belonged on a quest to help the computer.  

Jackie the jcak-o-bot spoke up.  He tended to do that when there were problems.  Maybe Jackie was a communist?  Wait, could a robot be a communist?  Certainly not and serve friend computer.  He wondered about that.  It was serving the computer, right?  Suspicions aroused he looked closely at the bot for signs of communism.  Not finding any he adjusted the glorious red hat on his head.  

"Zu do Kafateeria?  On vit da Mission!"

Well, we didn't really do anything.  Just stood there and died.  Silly computer.  

Fixer moved quickly down the stairs watching the tension between Echo and Casino.  Crap.  A lovers quarrel right in the middle of the whole gig.  Did those two have any idea how much was riding on this thing?  Getting in people's faces was not his normal modus, but if this crap continued it just might be.  

As they approached the car, he heard Casino semi-apologize and breathed a small sigh of relief.  Maybe the big man had a brain after all.  But yelling at Charlie, what the hell would that accomplish?  Yeah, his plan worked like crap, but given bad intel who could have done bette?.  They all thought the woman was in there.  He had damn well better improve his groove, but what did yelling at him do?  Next thing that lunk would start blaming him because somebody else could listen in on a walkie.  They needed to stick together and move quickly.  

"We go to that address and confront Rya."  

Well, someone had a plan.  

"Yeah, we do that.  Get moving."  Fixer agreed and to prove his point moved to the car. But then he had to deal with Blossom's little game of enie, meanie . . . 

What, the hell?  The last thing they needed was another love affair blowing up in their faces.  

Fixer opened the door of the vehicle and patted his lap.  "I've been called Moe before.  Bring that sucker oveer here and have a seat."  She was a nice little thing, but at this point he was far more concerned about keeping his head in its current location then thinking with that other head.  At least if she was on his lap he didn't think anybody else could be starting up anything.  As soon as she sat down (assumption) and the car began to move he shifted the conversation quickly to the task at hand - let there be no confusion.  "Did you find anything while we were in the building chasing our tails?"

Puns are awesome.  Puns you have to explain are . . . great for self giggles.  

But that Toronto Raptor is a thing of beauty, eh.

So, below are my first thoughts for skills.  At the moment I think it adds up to 68 points out of the allowed 76.  If I'm doing it right.  The way it is listed (templating made more sense in WORD) is the number after the skill is the dice (d6, etc...) and the last number is what I think it is costing me in points.  Am I doing it right?  

A few thoughts: 

1.  He isn't a fighter at all.  You also said don't worry about guns.  I figured as a smuggler he has held a gun, but not much more.  So it is low. 

2.  I'm sort of lost on the pilot skills.  This should be his chief "smuggler skill" - along with knowledge of old objects, I guess.  But which sub-categories fit best?  

3.  As I mentioned in the previus message, can you have points in a generic category but not any subcategory?  Like medical or perception generically?  

Suggestions are very welcome.

Skills (76 total points) Points Cost
*Athletics – Dodge, d6 6
*Guns - d2 2
*Knowledge – d6 6
     Philosophy d12 6
     Earth that was Antiquity d12 6
*Linguist – d6 6
*Influence – d4 4
*Linguist – d6 6
Old Earth langauges d10 4
*Pilot d6 (d2 Free) 4
      Navigation d10 4
      Transports d10 4
*Planetary vehicles d2 (Free)
*Medical d4 4
*Perception d6 6

Also, do we worry about posessions?   I didn't see anything in your generic "firefly" post on that.   If we do it I'm sure I can get Tann to help with that.  

Got your message back about the time I posted this.  I just didn't want to keep delaying things!

Ok, so I need some help getting Alexander Castlebrandt up to speed.  I have a good background story and assets and complications.  

But the 48 points  mentioned - is that just for attributes?  Or attributes and skills?  

Blowz listened as Jimm-y-EEE lists out the possible weapons.  It seemed like there would be one weapon for each of them and their usees were quite obvious.  The tractor type pistol, for example, could capture a suspected communist and pull them to you for arrest.  No doubt any objects around them would safely slow down before arriving at your location.  Such a safety feature was undoubtedly the sort of thing friend computer would employ.  But Blowz did have to admit that he failed to see the agricultural uses for such a pistol.  It was, after all, a TRACTOR pistol.  And weren't tractors used on farms?  But what did he know, he wasn't a farming clone?  Well, except that they all eventually ended up as fertilizer once friend computer was done with them.  He knew that much about farming,

When the Jimm-Y-EEE was done speaking he quickly said, "I'll try the energy pistol. Who knows what can be Blowz'd up with this?  Certainly there will be uses to help freind computer."  He took the pistol (assuming nothing blows up at this point) very carefully, being sure not to accidently press anything that might be a trigger.  He prepared to head back to the garage witht he others.  

Radiation?  Hmmm, intersting he should mention that.  He wondered if radiation exposer would eventually mean that he was no longer genetically the same as the clones that were supposed to be him?  If you changed the DNA did you change the person?  It seemed unlikely.  But this is what he pondered as he headed back to the garage.  That and the fact that he really didn't remember what their mission was.  Had they ever been told?  They were supposed to pick someone one up, right?  A tractor pistol might be good for that.  He wandered along thinking about identity and floating people.  

First, it is your character and you can do what you want with him.  I have no problem with the choice. It is your choice to make.

Second, It is certainly in character.  Maybe he should do it.  (I do think his character could be played other ways and stay in character.)  

Third, I'm not a fan of the move as an element of game play.  Maybe it is different because this is play by post and not table top, but this does rip the group apart.  We are already split up in the game.  But we are a team.  I know we are individual characters, but when I play or run games I want the group to function together.  We are playing this game together.  Fixer isn't sure about everyone here -  but he knows his life depends on this gig.  Casino ditching the team isn't just about going after Vegas, which makes sense, but he just left everybody else hung out to dry. And not at a mild spot.  We have a second team coming after us and seem to have screwed up the first shot at finding an employee.  Not just Fixer's reputation, but his life might depend on it.  Casino didn't just walk off the base, he left the foxhole in mid-battle.  A battle we are losing.  Fixer and the others had even given him some encouragement that we would help save Vegas once we saved Jace.  Why would Fixer ever trust Casino again?  He would NEVER want to rely on Casino having his back.  He just walked off the scene without a word.  I suspect this move permanently fractures any "team" this group can have in the future - on this gig or anything else the GM comes up with.

I guess that seems strongly worded.  I want to stress - it is your character and you can do this if you want.  Maybe the lack of trust will play out in an interesting way in the future if we live through this.  The above is my opinion.  Casino is your character.  

Wait - why might you be out of this game in a couple months no matter what????

Loradove seemed annoyed that the goblins were shooting back at her.  But luckily she had the wall of the hut to hide behind and they had nothing but the open road.  She fired again and again her arrow found her mark.  Perhaps all of this target practice at goblins was paying off?  Goblin #2 took the arrow with a loud grunt but did not go down. 

Galydan decided to continue with the barbeque and wanted to finish off another of the goblins.   He sent a firebolt flashing towards goblin #8.  The goblin patrol was now down to half of their original number as #8 burst into flame like a very ugly and smelly old Christmas tree.  He would shine a light no more. 

Goblin #4 seemed outraged that his comrades had managed to free himself and he had not.  Perhaps that was the motivation he needed as the last of the goblins held by the entanglement spell freed himself.  (#4 made his strength save and will be able to act next turn.)

Goblins 3, 4 and 7 all took aim at the hut.  Goblin #3 took aim at Loradove.  His shaft whipped past just as she attempted to duck back behind the hut after firing her own arrow.  It left a rip in her cloak as it just missed its target.  Goblin #4 attempted to target the mage that was cooking his friends, but in his haste to get off a shot fired his arrow directly into the open doorway of the hut, missing his target bya  good 5 feet. 

Goblin #7 saw the goblin next to him (# blasted by a firebolt and fear burned in his eyes.  He quickly targeted the mage that seemed the gravest danger and fired.  This time neither the huts partial cover nor his reflexes were enough to save the mage as the goblins scored their first hit of the encounter.  The goblins arrow slammed into the mage (-7hp) as he tried to duck back behind cover.  Wincing in pain behind the wall the mage could hear the goblin celebrating his success. 

Finally, it was time for Ghiberti to attack.   He moved up quickly on the goblins that had just escaped the entanglement spell.  They didn’t seem to know he was there and he lined up his strike was precision to take advantage of the situation.  But just as he swung his staff in a bonecrushing arc the goblin staggered to the side, struck by Loradove’s shaft.  He missed!  The goblins eyes grew big as they realized there was another assailant behind them.  (Even with advantage, a miss) 

8 goblins entered the fray – their current situation is as follows:

1- Dead

2 – Had been entangled, now free - injured

3 – Had been entangled, now free

4 – Had been entangled, now free

5  - Dead

6 – Dead

7 -  Had been at the front of the group and are the furthest away from the hut.  Badly wounded.

8 – Dead

Galydan - -7 hp. 

When the guard had told them all he could Dane made sure to thank the man.  Too many people here seemed to have come to the conclusion that they were a problem and that wasn’t likely to prove helpful.  So as they passed the guard and went into the guard house he thanked the man.  “Thank you, sir.  We appreciate your words.  Perhaps someday you will have a chance to meet the young lady.”

              With that he went in with the rest and encountered another guardsman who proceeded to offer up a little speech about Jandran and the meddling strangers.  He was sorely tempted to ask him about Master Telineos, the man the guard had mentioned, but decided that now was not the time.  But it was a name to remember.  Likewise he wanted to know if it was typical to isolate a suspect from any contact of if Millae was getting “special treatment.”  But perhaps that would be best asked on the way out?  Instead he just followed the man quietly down to the cells and listened carefully to his diatribe, hoping he would let some important bit of information slip.  It felt uncomfortable being locked into the cells after the man had already spoken about putting their heads on the block, but since they hadn’t done much yet and had even been allowed to keep their own weapons, he set the concern aside.  He did offer a quick, “thank you” to the guards receding back, but the man did not seem to react.

              Inside the cells the situation was unpleasant.  Dane had never been in a dungeon before, but this was certainly how he had envisioned them.  Dark, smelly, damp, barred, uncomfortable, and filled with fear, tears and a lack of hope.  And in the middle of it all was the young woman they had come to talk to, huddled in on herself in one of the cells. 

"W-who are you?" She asked, her voice raw and trembling.

It was hard not to feel sympathy for the poor young woman.  She certainly didn’t look like a murderer.  Perhaps someone’s stooge.  She did look like someone who might have been manipulated, perhaps by a nicely dressed young man.  But then, in these conditions who wouldn’t look tired, afraid and vulnerable?  And who wouldn’t feel sympathy?  That emotion seemed to have captured all of them in the street the previous night and now rang out again.

“Millae?”  He wasn’t really in need of an answer, but it seemed right to ask.  She nodded her head slightly.  (If she is sitting on the floor he goes down to her level)

“I’m Dane.  I’m new here and so are these others.  We are hoping to learn a bit about your situation and maybe help out.  Last night we encountered Mistress Villalin and a certain tavern keeper both of whom seemed quite distressed at your situation.  Neither seemed to believe that you could have done what you are accused of.”  He paused a moment.  He didn’t want to go too quickly.  If he had been in her shoes, he would have had a hard time focusing.  “We don’t know much about what happened, but I do know that a lot of people really seem to care about you.  Care and believe that you are a good person.  That, at least, is something to smile about.”  He smiled at her in what he hoped was an encouraging way.

“In my experience, people don’t suddenly do things completely out of character.  Your family and friends didn’t just say you didn’t do it, but that you wouldn’t and couldn’t have done it.  Their words and tears were enough to get those of us you see in front of you to offer to try and help.”  At this point he thought she looked at him with hope in her eyes.  Everyone else seemed to think you could read emotions in a person’s eyes. He had never seen it that way.  Until now.  That was certainly hope.  She probably hadn’t had any before. 

“We would like to help Millae, but all of us are new here.  We don’t know you, the Aes Sedai, the minister or many of the details about what happened.  I suspect you have been wrung out by the guards by now  - asking you all sorts of questions and demanding answers even when you didn’t have them.”  He thought she nodded at that. 

At this point he looked around at the others that had come with him and spoke to everyone, “Instead of starting with specific questions, perhaps we should just let Millae tell us her story first.  Then we might have a better idea of what to ask?”  (Assuming assent from the others)  “Ok, Millae.  Take your time.  This can’t have been easy.  But if you would like some help, we need to know what happened.  Could you tell us about what happened?  Start with the last two days, I suppose.  Then maybe go back and think about anything from earlier that seems noteworthy.”

He tried to give her his best encouraging smile.  He pulled out his water bottle.  “Here.  Do you need something to drink?”  He passed the bottle through the bars. “Go ahead and begin whenever you are ready.”

Alexander Castlebrandt, philosophical academic smuggler-pilot is coming along.  Not done, but a bunch of stuff has been sent to Alacrity.  I will get there!  

The last week with the holiday and everything was crazy busy for me.  I am very glad this game is going again and should get a post up tomorrow - Tuesday. 

And hopefully everyone will get posts up!

Four quick questions:

1.  We saw video of Rya as a maintenance worker at the school.  Is it fair to assume that we would have recognized Marta if it were really Rya?  It wasn't her, right?

2.  Where is this address?  Do we know where it is?  What does it imply?  I almost get the sense that it is the alley she sleeps in - is that right?  Without this I can't even begin to say what to do next.

3.  My interpretation of things is that Rya is essentially homeless - she pays for an address so she can get a job.  But that job doesn't pay enough for her to even have a busted up apartment.  Is that accurate?  (Sounds like a motive to me.)  

4.  What name would be next closest on the list of possible employee candidates from upstairs-downstairs?  How far?  How far compared to Rya's new address?

Fixer listened in as first one group member and then another tried to convince the voice behind the door to open up.  Eventually it seemed that Bloodbank's pleading had done the trick.  He was glad no blood had been spilled.  A firefight in this hallway didn't seem likely to accomplish anything good.  But pleading did.  Well, it accomplished something.  Good?  That was yet to be determined.  

It seemed the woman in room wasn't Rya.  This was just a dumby address for the underemployed.  Damn.  Life in the big city could take a bite out of people.  He wondered what Rya paid just to put her name on a place.  She didn't even get to live there.  Just pretend.  What a crappy world.  But he damn sure didn't want to end up so down on his luck that he had to rent an address.  And if this job continued to go South on them they might all be lucky if they just disappeared into the muck.  

But she did give them an address.  Where and what was that?  It seemed the group had another target.  He quickly followed Echo out of the building.  He heard her anger and understood it.  He heard Bloodbank's question.  Damn.  The group had to hold together or they would be all be looking for rental addresses.  If they were lucky.  And Vegas' luck was going to run out soon as well.  Hang together guys.  Hang on.  

I will try to get mine done by this weekende, but I have my doubts.  If not, I twill be done by Monday.  Company/Holiday that sort of thing.  Life finally returns to a semblance of normal next week.

The Wheel of Time turns, a nd ages come and pass . . . the story continues and Dane will be spun out as a part of the pattern.

Fixer stood back in the hallway and kept his eyes and ears open.  He looked around and watched every other access point to see if anyone else was watching or paying attention to the non-action in the hallway.  He'd doubted the con to begin with, but it wasn't his type of game.  When it failed he groaned infardly expecting violence.  It seemed the way.  He was surprised to instead hear . . . pleading.  No, it wasn't quite that.  But "please" was not something he had expected to hear on this mission.  Or any mission, really.  He smiled a bit behind his mask and kept watching and listening for any sign of newcomers.  

As he heard the conversation on the walkies he hoped the rest of the group remembered that whoever had Vegas was likely listening in on this.  

Not a lot for Fixer to do.  He did an awareness/notice check on Roll20 in case that is needed.  No modifiers were added to the roll.  

Fixer stoof near the back of the group away from the door.  He was out of site of any view from the door - the gig was that only one person was out there.  But he could hear the dialogue and knew the great negotiator was not getting great results at the moment.  And now a threat.  Great.  This wasn't his call at this point and he had no idea what they would do next. Bust in the door?  Continue talking?  Hard to tell.

He took a look at the door - was there any kind of electronic security there or anywhere else in the hallway?  He scanned as much as he could.  What else was there for him to do?  He also looked around at the doors to other residences (Assuming there are some) to see if there was anything there - or anyone taking note of what was ahppening in the hallway.  

Of course, Rya Mendez was just one of the possibilities for an employee that might be involved in all of this.  There had been others.  Time was ticking . . .