(Prologue) The Atlantean returned from a northern research expedition to find his home, a colony of New Atlantis devestated by Nazi U-boats. They slaughtered his friends and family all in order to steal technology and an artifact from his people. He has sworn venegeance.

At the same time ...

A monstrous creature from the deep controlled by a cadre of Atlantean outcast has stopped the SS Hancock, a very specially built 'liberty ship' not officially listed as existing. They boarded the ship and while lightning spewing tridents and spec. op marines exchange fire, the Jersey Devil's 'father' is captured along with a very special artifact that was to be delivered to agents in europe.

The story picks up with the Atantean having tracked a Nazi destroyer and his family artifact to a mysterious gree fog covered island in the north Atlantic. At the same time the Jersey Devil and Crude - recently transformed after an explosion in the ships engine room, and a squad of marines have made their way to the same island.

AoA: Issue #2 Secrets of Power
The beach is dark, but the sounds of reverberate from the other side of the island, as Petty Officer Jackson secures the boat. Anderson as the senior corporal is making sure Dee and Herman have their weapons and equipment prepped. Each of them received the special briefing before signing on for this assignment, but until that ‘thing’ struck from the ocean and the ship was boarded by fish-men, none of them really believed half of what they were told. Anderson looks at Lieutenant “Crude” and just hopes he doesn’t go into shock when the shit hits the fan. The trek up the hill is short and when they arrive their ‘special’ friend is peering down from a broken tower onto the beach, looking every bit the gargoyle from myth. There is a rumbling growl of a stone lion from the tower. Looking down Anderson sees the Nazi’s chaining an old man to the side of an amphibious landing craft.

A pack of sharks swim through the rough waves as they lap at the beaches edge. A shadowy figure arises from the tumultuous surf. His long wet black hair and dark skin making it difficult, even for genetically enhanced senses, to see who is following the archaically dressed Atlanteans onto the beach. One of the searchlights sweep across the waters and you catch a glimpse of his Grecian dress, clad in a long white tunic clasped about the shoulders with a golden shell. Suddenly a cold chill, like the northern current, runs down your spine. You feel an unexplainable primal fear arise in you like never before.

The searchlight catches the Olympian like figure on the beaches edge, spotlighted as if on center stage. His mammoth two and a half meter form slowly, gracefully walks out of the ocean as if he were the son of Poseidon. A look of cruel amusement lights his dark blue face and coal black eyes, then with a contemptuous wave he calls one of his pets’ forward. Behind him a smaller figure swims through the waves stopping at the giants heels. At first it looks like one of the sharks, but then it arises on hands and knees like a servant at its master’s feet. Even from a distance you can see the Man-Shark fighting for control … futilely … with the ancient atlantean evil.

(Thanks AK)

Waving his archaic clad Atlanteans forward with the waterproof chest, “Calm yourselves surface men.” Lifting the shining golden shell, a glowing crystal with the promise of power around his neck, he shows all how he had already claimed what he came for. “If we wanted to ‘cheat’ you, you would have been powerless to stop us. We keep our word hu-man. Here is your trinket as promised. My master gladly leaves it and the old wizard in your possession with this warning.”  The Atlantean soldiers drop the waterproof container beside one the Nazi trunks.

“You search for power beyond your understanding.  .  .  We hope you find it.”

Great stuff, Ranger!  What happend to issue #1, though?

It sounds like fun (and like you're doing a great job!).  Best of luck with it!

Adventures of Thunderbird and White Lightning

At the bottom of the ramp you see a tall blonde woman, dressed in a long sleeved black wool sweater that clings to her slim yet athletic form. Her khaki explorer pants would look more at home in the jungle forest, but the way they are cut suggest she wears them more for function than to accentuate her figure. Her smile is alluring, like a chesire cat playing with a mouse.

"Welcome to Scotland you two. I'm sure the Commander will want you to join the rest of the team he arrives. I wish we could show you better hospitality, but there's a potential crisis underway and we could really use your help, if your willing to lend a hand." Both the young Americans agree and follow their British contact from the ship.

"Follow me, we can talk on he way." Agent X leads through the naval dock's warehouse complex to her car. "We got word from sources on the continent that the German's have sent a team of commandos to assasinate the Prime Minister."

Racing through the naval base like a whirlwind, the small sporty car theatens to tip and roll at least twice as she takes corners at break neck speeds. You can sense the urgency in her body language as she guides the vehicle with nerves of steel. "We just recieved word their tem might include some of you 'super' chaps. Excalibur is on his way back from Norway, but we don't think he's going to make it in time."

Pulling up in front of an inn so old it looks straight out of a medival history book, the car skids into the gravel parking lot to the side looking at the delapitated wooden sign proclaiming the inn's name you see the same symbol as on your duffel bags. The Raven Inn

"If your in, I can brief you on the where. The when in is in less the a few hours. You two are the only ones fast enough to get there in time to help. Please ... he may be a wanker but even Neville doesn't deserve to die at the hands of assasins."

The old Inn looks abandoned, delapitated from years of non-use. As Agent X steps onto the dirty wooden stairs leading up on the porch the front door swings open into the dark empty office. Swept along in her wake you follow her into a spiderweb covered entrance only to hear the door slam shut behind you.

Down the hall she uses a a key to gain entrance through a locked door. Stepping into the well lit banquet room you look to the right seeing three woman operating telepohone boards. To the left a wall of various maps of the european continent. In front of you a master-crafted table four by eight feet with a perfect miniaturized representation of Great Britain.

"I'm sorry we're in such a rush but the Minister's speech is due to start in Birmingham in an hour. I was hoping to get you some intel before you took off but, even with your great speeds you'll have little time to spare."

"You can change back there if you wish. I'll be back in a minute to answer any questions I can."

Quickly she turns to the duty officer and both quietly confer as they walk to check the latest dispatches.

Not what they were expecting as they arrived in the middle of the night, but native american weather warrior and luscious lady of lightning agree are shown spare rooms to change into their fighting gear.

Motioning for you to follow her to the operations table the agent uses a wooden pointer to indicate your current position. "Time is of the essence, so we can't afford you two getting lost traipsing all around merry old England. Right now we're here in Scotland and the port of Clydebank." Tapping the pointer she traces a path from nothern Scotland down into the belly of southern England. "The Prime Minister's speech is here in the Birmingham soccer stadium."

"Even with your speed there's no time to waste. I know neither of you have been to England before, but you should be able to get there in time if you follow the road signs on the way south. We suspect the assasination team consist of a 12 man Brandenburger squad with superhuman support elements. Where they are or how they will strike we don't know."

Agreeing there is little time to be wasted they take the assignment and a map of the roads of Great Britain and take off in a race with time to save the Prime Minister.

Turn Two: Rise of the Kraken

John keeps his wings swept out, obscuring his father from the incoming gunfire. He crouches to both protect him and pick up the beleaguered old man. Back muscles clenched to resist the onslaught, his arms sweep up the old man with a gentle tenderness. Holding him close to his chest, John leaps high into the air and arcs out to sea. He makes a long sweeping pass around to the area his fellow American's hold. “Hey! Dee! Father's safe back here. Don't forget em !!!” The young marine take the old man and carefully lays him behind a solid section of the old tower masonry walls, protected from any potential gun fire from the beach below. “He's out cold!"

Confident in his father’s safety the Jersey Devil steps back and crouches low to the ground. A powerful figure of elemental earth and air, he launches into the sky and again circling out to sea and makes his approach on the Nazi position. Determined to make the Nazis pay for his father’s capture, he makes another attack run. Knowing that others have orders for the search lights, this time, he targets the heavy machine gun on the second APC. Bullets from two of the machine pistols bounce off his stony hide (-12 ADR) as he make his run but the thunderous slugs of the APC’s machine gun strike like the hammer of a Teutonic god. Both the gargoyle’s claws shred the heavy weapon, but not before puncturing his own chest (-12 hp), their thunderous impacts knocking him back to the ocean’s edge.

Watching the ancient Atlantean outcast slip back into the dark sea, the engineer of earth and oil works on adjusting the aim of his two armed one man two artillery. “Hmm, I must need a little more back spin.” Crude picked up another piece of wall and throws it at one of the heavy machine guns. The huge masonry piece flies across the rocky beach barely missing the young Atlantean noble standing slack jawed a few feet away. Exploding on impact inside the empty weapon pit the heavy weapon is knocked over its barrel bent, its tripod broken.

At a loss from Triton's reply Orin looks stunned. He watches the vile Atlantean legend fade back under the sea waves. The outcast warriors cover his retreat. The Lightning Tridents and German machine pistols exchange fire between the two groups, as they fade back into the ocean with the sharks swimming the beaches edge. When they are gone from sight, the lone Atlantean surveys the beach and the air-breathers on it. Suddenly with a scream of a soul tortured the Man-Shark burst from the ocean’s edge and rushes the small chest the archaically armored Atlanteans left behind. His eyes blazing like a man possessed, dives back into the dark waters disappearing into their dark depths. The Necronomicon is gone.

Then the ocean waves are silent, unmoving not a sound to be heard as the gunfire stops and all eyes are inexplicably drawn to the sea. Slowly a figure emerges, a shadow at first, then every individual on the island feels it. The fear of ancient evil, evil that has crawled from the past, the Kraken has returned.



OOC:
Atlantean - 44 HP, 66 PP
Crude (12 ft) - 109 HP, 66 PP
Jersey Devil - 47 HP, 65 PP, 52 ADR

Turn Three: Out of the Frying Pan into the Fire

A deathly silence falls across the ancient island beach, as the monstrous crab like creature rises from the ocean. The remaining searchlight moves almost lazily from the dark ocean surface up along its long crustacean legs, to its titanic humanoid torso. Water cascades from its armored form, its massive ninety foot long tentacles slam into the beach, exploding large boulders into jagged shards of shrapnel. The mad and tortured Titan has ascended from the deep.

As the searchlight plays across the Kraken’s eyes, it shakes its head and let’s loose with a roar as deep as the ocean trenches and loud as the crashing surf. Death has come to the ancient island. Stepping onto the beach one of the creatures four sixty foot long tentacles hammers down upon the amphibious vehicle (51hp). The lightly armored vehicle’s searchlight and tracks are smashed under the tentacle gargantuan weight. The men inside are trapped screaming in fear.



From the dark side of the rocky shore, the lone Atlantean left on the beach watches in terror at the ancient horror arising from the depths of time and space. Orin recognizes the beast as something even his own race reviled, something that he had thought only existed in whispers to scare children at night. Remembering Triton’s dismissal and his threat to the rest of his Atlantean race, Orin feels the dark fear crawling through him change. Slowly at first, then like an erupting volcano, that fear transforms into anger. Where once stood the young naïve explorer, now walked a warrior of vengeance … the last Son of Lancaster.

“The Kraken”



Watching monstrous creature crawl from the black ocean waters, Crude ‘feels’ almost frozen with the fear of its elemental evil. Looking to his right he sees his marines in shock. "Devil Dogs … Anderson! Dee! Herman! All of you! SNAP out of it! Yes that creature destroyed our ship but it doesn't matter! Follow your orders!  … get Jersey Devil's father the hell out of here! All of you withdraw now! Inform the Commander that the Necronmoicon is still possessed by the Fish Faces. Jersey Devil and I will buy you time! Once you are out of the mist we will follow you! Devil Dogs MOVE now!" Still in his twelve foot height, Crude steps to the edge of the cliff and waves a flashlight to get his ally’s attention. “All right calamari, you want a piece of me! I sure want a piece of you!”



John rolls to his clawed feet as metal and glass shrapnel explode around him. He realizes the fear that most men feel when they gaze upon him. The guardian gargoyle sees the lieutenant waving a lantern to and fro. Depending on the human nature within the hearts of the Nazi soldiers to either flee of fight the harbinger of destruction, the Jersey Devil spreads his wings and launches into flight. Banking and weaving a tight pattern through the flailing tentacles of the Kraken, he returns to Crude and the marines who are preparing to escort his father back to the rescue boat. Recognizing the young men’s courage, the ability to keep moving in the face of an elemental evil instills John with the courage for what lay ahead.



Crude thinks, I should have died once already tonight. Seems it was just temporarily delayed. If we all run this … thing … is likely to chase us down anyway. Suicide mission or delaying action at least the ‘Dogs’ will be able to get Devil’s dad and the message back to the Commander. With a grim smile Lucas watches the Jersey Devil land close by. Walking over the armored avian guardian, with a calmness only those prepared for passing beyond the veil can acquire, he gives what he expects to be the last order of his very brief career as an officer in combat. “Jersey Devil, don't attack the creature. Pick me up and throw me in the Kraken's mouth."

“Dis'll be a rough pick up!” he shouts. Launching into the air once again the stone cold devil with a soul quickly twist around and swoops down grabbing Crude and banks high into the air. When he reaches a sufficient height, as in the maximum of his movement left from the pick-up and climb, he will stall and turn toward the beast. With a mighty flap of his wings, the pair jet downward to the behemoth's head. Now moving at maximum velocity, Jersey Devil hurls Crude toward the beast's gaping maw... as he dodges the last tentacle its unearthly size and form sparks a memory of darks things that lay beyond the veil of consciousness and sanity. Dominus, placere hoc opus  “Dat damnable giant Adlandian summoned a lessa sea gahd from da Dahkhold! Dat Som' Bitch!!!"

Suddenly the beach is ablaze with fire the small arms of the Nazi’s useless against heavy crab-like armor of the demi-god gone mad. The German storm troopers fall back to the remaining amphibious vehicle. The kommander can be heard screaming incoherently into the vehicles radio-phone. From the dark a lean muscular figure leaps with sea-born muscles launching himself over the heads of the retreating air-breathers. "I say thee, NAY!" Orin’s trident a fire with his electrical eel-like powers, the last Atlantean strikes, burying his weapon deep between the armored joints (16hp).

From the top of the island, with a sound of thunder, a figure flies out of the dark clouds and toward the embattled beach. His claws barely capable of holding his oily ally, the Jersey Devil prays for success, and the young man’s soul. As a spark of lightning shoots from creature’s claw into the sky, it screams, its dagger toothed maw gaping wide, with an unearthly sound. The lieutenant yells … “NOW!” and John launches the one time merchant marine with all his might. Pulling up into the clouds high above the beach, he watches as the man change shape and take the form of an oily glob … splashing into the jagged toothed mouth of the monster and disappear.

Fortes fortuna juvat.


OOC: Hope you enjoy the write up. I now know why Jeff does this once a month – and he has twice as many players. 

@ Tom – I felt the story ended well at this point. Consider yourself heavily clapped on the back, apparently the dice did indeed favor the bold and you have two (2) full Actions to use in the next Turn. The rules for how the combat within the oral cavity will be fought are in place but won’t start until next Turn. At this moment you are in your 1” form. Good news from that is you will can two attacks to the Titans one from the inside during Turn Three … or whatever other sneakiness you can come up with.  :mrgreen:

Current Condition:
Atlantean - 44 HP, 62 PP
Crude (1") - 34 HP, 62 PP
Jersey Devil - 47 HP, 63 PP, 52 ADR

PS: Thanks for the advice guys  :ugeek:

Added Turns 3 and 4 of the Kraken battle for those interested

Great stuff, Ranger.  Thanks for sharing it! 

Ranger wrote on Aug 28^th, 2012 at 1:00am:


A priceless resource!