BPRD - Circa 1944

[Justicar]

Greetings and salutations, friends and foes! I've been a long time lurker here, but have finally decided to actually contribute a bit to the community...albeit in my own, useless way.

I just thought I'd take a bit of time to post a quick rundown of our bi-weekly game on here. Not because it's particularly captivating or awe-inspiring, but rather because of the constant, recurring failures of my party.

So, all in all, I'm just here to share a few laughs with people. I'll give a general catch-up for what's happened so far after this post, and just update as regularly as possible. But just to get everyone into the feel of this farcical failure, here's a bit about the setting.


Based on the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense of Hellboy fame, the members of my game's party find themselves working behind the scenes for the Allies during WWII. Each of them hail from radically different walks of life, and all have come together for a common cause. It's apparently to fail at everything I lay before them and make my life a living hell while they do so, but damn if it isn't occasionally worth the grief. Anyway, the organization has a few different branches at this point, with the party working for the third branch. They consist of:

Lt. Veign - Commander of the BPRD Third Branch, he's your cliche hardass military commander. Rather than Nick Fury's eyepatch, he possesses a trademark mechanical hand. As one of my key NPCs, he spends most of the time giving orders to the party, staying behind, and wondering what he did in a past life to be assigned to lead the F-Troop of superheroes.

Ensign - The Crimson Armored warrior of justice, Ensign strikes fear into the hearts of his enemies with his Hardly-Noticeably-Above-Average-Human characteristics. Another NPC that the rest of the party is just waiting to see die, though I can't imagine why...

and the actual team consists of:

Triton - Nathan Nimitz (Joe) - A researcher/adventurer in the style of Indiana Jones, his recently discovered Atlantean bloodline allows him minor control over water. After delving deeper into the lore of Atlantis, his wanderings led him far beneath the sea, to the resting place of the Naupilus Armor. While he is the youngest member of the BPRD, he is one of the founding members of it. Think Iron Man, but designed for underwater performance. I'd love to get around to getting an actual illustration of his suit; he's got a pretty slick description of it.

Shadowgate - Kaelin Yates (Travis) - A blind, homeless vagrant from Ohio, he has spent the last few years learning to utilize a power that he neither understands nor knows the origin of. Capable of teleporting himself over massive distances as well as dragging others into a parallel dimension, the Shadow Realm, which is apparently a part of his own being, his abilities are unlike anything this world has ever seen.

Lightbringer - Celcus Hoenheim (Gabe) - A former citizen of the Holy Roman Empire, Hoenheim's exploits during the Crusades led him to the Holy Grail. Drinking from it granted him immortality, flight, and the ability to both heal and inflict terrible wounds with his Holy Flame. The de facto field leader, he is respected by his comrades for his keen intellect and flawless strategies. Well...'flawless' strategies.

Forte - Martin Marino (Chris) - The world renowned lounge singer has given up his life of fame and fortune for one of obscurity and valor. His skills at quickly learning what he is instructed have grown into the full-fledged abilities of a mimic. Capable of replicating the powers of any other living being (excluding technology and magical spells), as well as focusing his power inward to exponentially increase his own potential (Yay for 1 Point AP Boost 25...), he is as willing to fight as talk his way out of the situation.

Dark Alpha - Marcus Wallace (Spencer) - Spence's first character (in role-playing at all...go him!) has turned out to be a trademark in any World War II setting: the Super Soldier. Experimented on my Nazis in days long gone and injected with an alien substance discovered in southern Africa, Dark Alpha's body is capable of superhuman feats as well as directing the power inside him to generate a shield and blade of crackling energy, capable of carving through steel as easily as air. The damage done to anything organic is truly terrifying (Corrosion 10/Drain 5 (Poison)). Within him lurks another presence, though, eager to dominate this body to its own ends (Yay for 2 Point Morph/Metamorph and the pains that come with two characters per one player...).

Doctor Claw - Dr. Hans Von Erich (Ryan) - Another first time player, Ryan has a bit of a darker side and is playing the mentor of none other than Mengele. Having grown disgusted with the horrors he had been ordered to inflict on his fellow man, Von Erich decided to leave the Nazi party and offer their secrets to the Americans in return for amnesty. When Mengele discovered the betrayal, he captured and tortured his former mentor for 36 hours without rest, removing his eyes and tongue and horribly mutilating the doctor's hands. When the BPRD arrived at his place of holding, they were shocked to discover every Nazi dead and the other prisoners free. Von Erich, blinded, mute, bloodied and broken, had snapped and killed every one of his former comrades. When the Jews stood in his defense at the party's arrival, they allowed their rescuer into the party's custody. Lightbringer healed Von Erich's hands, though the doctor refused to allow his eyes or tongue to regrow. He wished to see no more evil of this world, and would not allow himself to be able to speak of his past deeds, either. He uses a few linked Boosts in place of a Rage when he's in the presence of Nazis, and is capable of wiping out dozens, without a care for his wounds, with the large metal claw-gloves he wields. Many of his fallen enemies are found with their own tongues and eyes removed. (See? Told you he was a dark one.)

(Sir Doctor) Argyle Socks Man - Super long real name, too. Can't remember it (Chase) - A longtime buddy of mine, Chase brings his much-loved comic book character into this game. Sherlock Holmes meets Green Arrow, Sir Socks is known for his unbelievable powers of deduction, ridiculously over elaborate bowler hat/goggles/mutton chops/war helmet and apparently endless variety of bullets for his trusty Derringer, whose name is constantly changing. Currently a member of the BPRD First Branch with the Torch of Liberty and Lobster Johnson, his home (Sir Doctor Argyle Socks Mansion) is the current headquarters of the Third Branch.

Justicar - Ian Prail (Me) - A former PC of mine turned NPC in this case, Justicar is a (possibly) former member of the Nazi Party, working under Doctor Sennhenn, also known as Hans Heinze (and the game's most notable recurring villain). Disgusted and appalled by the doctor's horrific experiments on children, there is a reason he stayed alongside the man, though he refuses to explain it. Often at odds with Dark Alpha, the Super Soldier has only managed a single blow against Justicar, and the powerful psychokinetic has shown little amusement at the incident.



Anyway, there are the players. Soon I'll give a rundown of what they've accomplished and the much larger list of what they've screwed up.

But that's all for now. Thanks for reading this far, and hopefully at least one person's interested!!

[Isungr]

Chello!

Look very nice for me....are you finding use out of te Golden Age supplement?

Tony

[Justicar]

I was going for a Golden Age setting, but a few of the characters (Dark Alpha and Doctor Claw, in particular) have a penchant for brutality. It's a shame, really, but it has its perks.

Look for Chapter 1 soon...I've been way too busy to get to it yet, but I'll get to it as quickly as I can!

[Justicar]

Alright, I finally have time to give a quick rundown of Issue 1. You'll have to excuse me if some of the details are sketchy; I have a notoriously bad memory.


As with any good story, this one begins with the titular characters gathered for their first briefings and introductions. Forte is the newest member of the team, having accepted Veign's invitation to forsake his life of fame and fortune to live and probably die in relative obscurity, with none of his accomplishments (back when Veign believed the party could actually accomplish things) being known to the public or ever recorded.

"Yeah, it's a bum rap, but hey...Sinatra's ain't here!"

Introductions were made all around, save for Argyle Socks Man, who wouldn't be introduced until Issue 2 and Doctore Claw, who wouldn't be introduced until Issue 5. With all the pomp and circumstance out of the way, the party was given their first mission:

Locate and Retrieve Claret, the Sword in the Stone

It was a mission briefing that took a while to explain...most notably the part about things like this existing. After meeting Triton and Lightbringer, though, Forte couldn't deny that there was more to the world than he would have imagined.

The final known location of Claret was Dresden, Germany in Heilanstalt Brandenburg-Goerden, a mental hospital under the control of Carl "Hans Heinze" Sennhenn.

After Shadowgate brought the party to the destination (before random editing replaced his ability to see with his ability to transport others to the Shadow Realm), the general consensus was to split up. It wouldn't be until Issue 5 that the party decided to nominate a field commander.

Here's the part where things get a bit sketchy. I'm going to have to give a less-detailed rundown, but future Issues will have a bit more meat to them.

Lightbringer and his companion located some Nazi scientists, experimenting on one of the few surviving children located in the building. After realizing what they were up against, the scientists fled. Eventually cornered, one of the scientists laughed in the faces of the heroes and downed a suicide pill.

After a moment of shock, they recovered their senses and Lightbringer resurrected the troublesome scientist. An unexpected result, it Happy to have escaped his ten seconds in Hell, the scientist was more than willing to provide information and made it a point to spend the rest of his life in repentance for his crimes. The party most likely killed him anyway, from what I would logically assume.

Meanwhile, Triton and his companion (I think it was Shadowgate, as I believe it was Ensign with Lightbringer) come across a gate. Triton smashes it open. For all his nifty Atlantean technology, Triton spends most of his time locating doors and smashing them open. Eventually, this will become quite a thorn in the side for Argyle Socks Man, after the party takes up residence in Argyle Socks Mansion. The pair eventually meets with three Nazi soldiers decked out in quasi-modern day espionage equipment and large energy pistols. The duo fights valiantly but are eventually defeated by the Rank 6 villains Fatigue rays and Absorption-enhanced Body Armor.

This brings us to Dark Alpha and his companion (presumably Forte), who come across three more of these soldiers. Fighting valiantly, and mocked by the only one of the troops that decides to speak, they, too, are brought down by these Rank 6 nobodies.

After recovering from their own such assault, Lightbringer and Ensign arrive on the scenes, reviving their friends. Having successfully weighed the party's performance, these soldiers (later to be called the Dirty Dozen) appear to have left the area.

Following the scientist's information, the party arrives at Hans Heinze's office and locate the secret passage leading below the compound. Wandering the dank, moldy hallways, they eventually arrive in Sennhenn's hidden office...

Face to face with the entire Dirty Dozen.

Capitalizing on the element of surprise, the party rushes their enemies. Shadowgate teleports a few away to the BPRD holding cells, and Dark Alpha rushes forward with Forte, and the two begin giving the Super Soldiers what for. The Dirty Dozen retreat, teleporting away before the party's very eyes.

(You'll have to excuse me if I'm rushing things here at all...it's taking a bit longer than I thought I would, I'm leaving out too many details, and I still haven't had breakfast. The next Issue will make up for it; I promise!)

Unimpressed with their efforts, Hans Heinze makes it a point to mock the party before he himself vanishes before their eyes.

A thorough search and a smashed wall later (Thanks, Triton!) and the party discovers Claret. Unfortunately, it is once again driven into The Stone. After much grunting and straining from Triton and Dark Alpha (Each with a 30 strength), Lightbringer steps forward and casually removes the blade, seemingly the only one not surprised by the action.

Well, long story short made shorter, they return to the BPRD headquarters, return the sword to Veign, report on their failure to kill even one serious enemy, and deal with the information that Shadowgate's prisoners teleported away, themselves.

All in all, a relatively minor success coupled with a handful of failures and the introduction of the man that would come to be the party's greatest nemesis!

Ehh...thanks for reading. Sorry if it wasn't as entertaining as I planned it to be. Tune in next issue for Something Better!!!

[Dawnstrider Moogle]

Hey, I just wanted to say I'm very entertained by what you've put up so far & look forward to reading more!

[Justicar]

I'll continue soon. Life's been hectic.

[Shadowgate]

Where is Issue 2? I demand satisfaction.

[Justicar]

What can I say? The magnitude of your exploits left me too ashamed of my failed storytelling to continue.


That, or I just couldn't remember what all happened. I'll probably wing it all as an unnecessarily long fanfic that nobody else'll read.

[Justicar]

Seriously...what the hell's been wrong with the boards lately? Here we go for reals. Chapter Zero.


Winter’s harsh glare gleamed violently into the miserable soldier’s eyes. He had been bundled up well past the point of necessity, but even with the sun’s company he felt frostbite creeping into his toes. The young recruit found himself grateful that the evening’s harsh winds had finally died down.

After more than two full days standing at attention, the soldier found himself hoping to find anyone, Allies or not, approaching on the horizon. When it seemed as if his wish had finally come true, he made sure to rub a heavy mitten over his goggles just to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

“It seems he’s approaching, sir,” the soldier said, leaning back towards the front door of the humble farmhouse he was stationed in front of.

“Very good, Ensign,” came the disembodied reply, a voice emanating from the walkie hanging from the soldier’s belt. “You know what to do.”

It was almost two hours until the distant figure had reached the soldier. Wrapped twice as heavily as the guard, as well as dragging two large wardrobe trunks, the traveler sighed and let them both drop to the ground. “Nice weather we’ve got out here…”

“Ensign.” The guard knew full and well who the visitor was, but was nevertheless grateful that the scarf and goggles that masked his face covered the excitement on his face as the man returned the introduction.

“Ensign? That’s a rank, right? Well, the name’s Martin Marino, maybe you’ve heard of me. You sound American, but, hell…I’m just glad you speak English, kid.”

Quickly returning to protocol, the Ensign continued. “Authorization, please, Mr. Marino.”

Known the world over as one of the greatest musical performers in the history of the United States, the charming and charismatic Martin Marino was used to signing autographs and bedding his favorite fans, not military protocol. “Oh, yeah,” he replied rather awkwardly. “Here you go, kid…er, Ensign.”

The soldier received the shimmering, unreadable card that Marino offered him and glanced it twice over. “Everything seems to be in order, sir. Please enter.”

“So…are you, uh…?” The guest gestured at his luggage expectedly.

“No.”

Shaking his head and muttering as he stepped past the guard and into a wretched, decrepit hovel, Marino was surprised to find nothing more inside than a ruined wooden table and a pair of rickety chairs…one of which was occupied.

With a mug that Marino swore only a mother would love and a frown that would sour milk still in the cow, the occupant nodded at his guest. “We’re pleased you accepted our invitation, Marino.”

“Yeah, about that…” The American removed his sunglasses as his eyes quickly adjusted to the dim indoors. “What’s going on? One minute I’m belting out a packed house at Caesar’s, doing what I do best,” he paused, rubbing his chin and smirking roguishly. “Well, what I do second best, if you catch my meaning, boy-o. Anyway, next thing I know, I’m requested to head out to the middle of nowhere as a matter of World Security? Martin Marino does not get told where to go, baby.” Shrugging his shoulders and trying to loosen up under his bundled layers, Marino tried to do what he really did best…take control of the situation.

“Let’s get one thing straight, greaseball.” The figure rose, stepping into the light. For the first time, Martin was actually able to see the man wholly. He wore a uniform the performer hadn’t seen before, a strange weave of blues and black that Marino couldn’t quite focus on completely. What struck the traveler most, though, was that the man’s right arm was made entirely of metal, a product of technology Marino had never imagined possible. “From now on, Martin Marino does get told where to go, and if he doesn’t, he’s held as an accomplice to Adolf and a Prisoner of War.”

As the singer fought for something to say, the man took a closer step, his close-cropped gray hair framing a face with narrow, sinister eyes. “We are not affiliated with any government, Marino. What we do to our Prisoners of War, we cannot be held accountable for. Now, what is it you’re so sure you’re ready to say?”

To call the man’s presence ‘intimidating’ would be akin to calling the surface of the sun ‘warm’. Finally, backed into a corner and with nothing to lose, Marino found his backbone and smirked.

“I was just going to say that I’ve got myself an Uncle Sam. Love him to death. I figured out of respect for my Uncle Sam, I’ll do whatever I can for yours.” Chuckling comfortably, Marino held out his hand. “You know it already, but my sweet Granny always told me “There’s no bad place for good manners”. The name’s Martin Marino.”
“Veign.” As Marino shook the man’s hand, his mind told him something had just been driven into his palm. Unfortunately, it was already too late to react by then.

~

Martin awoke with a start, thrashing violently in his bed before forcing himself to settle down. It was only then that he realized it wasn't his own bed he was in at all. A stark room, with steel walls, floor, and ceiling held nothing but the rather comfortable bed he was resting in.

"What the f-"

"Good to see you're back with us, Marino. Get up and come with me." A familiar voice emanated from in front of him as a portion of the wall slid away to reveal a man Martin wished he didn’t recognize. To his credit, the singer regained his composure quickly.

"Look, don't nobody tell Martin Mar-"

"I'm telling you,” Veign smoothly replied. “Now get up, and shut up. I don't have time for your self-important crap." The veteran soldier entered the room, revealing a weathered face with a vicious scar running along the entire left side of it that Marino had failed to notice in the farmhouse…if it had even been there at all. The man’s seemed a face carved of rock itself, one that would spend eternity scowling at the world. For the second time in his life, and since meeting this stranger, Martin Marino backed down.
"Y-yeah. Yeah…sir." Climbing out of bed, Martin found himself wearing a comfortable pair of black pants and a white tank top. "Where are my clothes, guy?"

"In about ten minutes, that's going to seem a lot less important, Marino."

Following the soldier out of his room, Martin was stunned at the size of the area before him. The entire building was made of the same material as his room, and hallways seemed to race endlessly outward in every possible path and direction. Nowhere did he see any doors, save for when the walls parted to allow men and women in white lab coats or military fatigues to move from one area to another.

“So, uh…what is this place, friend?” Grumbling to himself about his lack of social balance, Marino glared icily at Veign’s back.

“This is nowhere. This building does not exist, and this organization has never been created.” Veign did not look back as he talked.

“Well it all looks pretty re…” Marino trailed off as Veign looked back to glare at him for his flippant comment.

“This is the Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense, European Branch. And, Marino?”

“Yeah?” The American finally felt a tone of equality in Veign’s voice, a trait he quickly warmed up to.

“Don’t ever call me your friend again. Lieutenant Veign, or sir, if you’re feeling lazy. Call me your friend again and I’ll shoot you myself.”

“Jeez…old people,” Marino muttered under his breath.

“Damn kids and their music,” Veign echoed.

Martin entered a sullen silence, though it didn't last very long as he continued to awe at his surroundings. After what must have been a mile and a half of walking, they ended before a wall that slid away to reveal a large conference room, dominated by a large, round table.

Of the half dozen assembled, Martin failed to recognize any of them. The only one obviously American, a man dressed in combat camouflage, wore a five o'clock shadow and an emotionless frown, his attention focused on the sidearm he was fastidiously cleaning. He didn't look up.

Across from where he entered, Marino noticed a darkly cloaked figure conversing with a rather average, unassuming fellow in wrinkled, unkempt clothing. He was clutching a massive tome under one arm, and constantly adjusted his glasses as he yammered on about something. The other man nodded along, his interest impossible to gauge behind his cowl.

A handsome young man dressed in a rather unique semblance of crimson armor nodded at Martin from across the room and smiled amiably. Beside him stood a man of somber countenance, garbed in plain white. His blue eyes and blonde hair both seemed unnaturally bright, and a shimmering armor of golden plate occasionally shone over his otherwise normal clothing.

"Y'ain't the only weird one around here, are ya, Lieutenant Guy?"

The grizzled soldier ignored Martin's question. "Team, this is Martin Marino, the latest addition to your unit. Martin, this is the team:

“Alpha: A subject of Nazi experimentation, he is a super soldier in the truest sense of the phrase. With strength, endurance, skill, and intelligence far beyond those of any other man, the only drawback seems to be his complete lack of people skills.”

"…"

“Lightbringer: A former citizen of the original Holy Roman Empire, it seems Someone had bigger plans for him. This plans culminated with his drinking from the Holy Grail itself. He is now capable of flight, healing, and the creation of holy fire.”

"I will do whatever I can to see this through to the end."

“Shadowgate: Derelict and homeless, it is a wonder still where Kaelin Yates' powers originated from. Regardless, he is capable transporting himself and others over large distances. A topographical genius, he serves as both recon and communication between outposts.”

"Beyond this Gate, Justice reigns."

“Triton: A historian from a crappy little town on the coast, Doctor Nathan Nimitz brings us the unparalleled power of Atlantean technology to our organization. His contributions to our cause are unsurpassed.

"Can you believe I'm finally getting paid to do this stuff??"

“Ensign: Our first attempt at our own super soldier, Ensign possesses abilities slightly above those of a normal human being. While he may not pack the same punch as the rest of the team, his heart's in the right place.

"I'm a huge fan, Mr. Marino. Can I just say what an honor it is to—"

"And as you know, I am Lieutenant David Veign. I'll escort you to the testing facilities. Those of you that are still alive in two months, be prepared to welcome Mr. Marino back to the team."

"Whoah, whoah…two months? Whaddya talkin' about, guy?"

The Lieutenant said nothing, only continued to escort Martin through the winding halls of the BPRD…