Cowman

As Nevur reached down to help the woman, her right arm suddenly shot up. Nevur was thrown back, a smoking hole in his side. Getting up, he winced as he looked over to where the she lay. Her left arm flew up, grabbing her right as if trying to hold it down.

"I don't know Carly," Nevur answered her, "she was talking to the others fine earlier. Maybe some spell from the monk." The girl seemed to be locked in a struggle with herself, but the right arm kept pulling away from the other. Nevur sent a column of stone to engulf her, but the right arm tore through the prison.

Again, the left arm came up, grabbing the right and pulling it down. The other heroes were still occupied with the monk. Nevur only had one other option and he prayed it would work. Reaching out with his arm he channeled strength from the monk, sending it towards the troubled woman on the ground. Concentrating hard, he tried to send it to only certain parts of her left arm and brain.

This would either give the woman the strength she needed or empower the violent side, allowing it to attack him further.
"Cross your fingers Carly," Nevur whispered.

"What?" said Nevur.

On Virtue:
Davis Slate - Science/Scrapper, my main guy.
Lyle - Natural/Blaster, an cranky old man who used to be in the army.
Nevur - Magic/Controller, a nice guy/robot.

"Yes, I DO see it Carly."
The thing that had burst from the alley raised its hand, powering up a blast of magical energy. Not knowing what else to do, Nevur raised his arms toward Morningstar.

"Sorry lady, but this may hurt a little," rock and earth suddenly sprang up around her, encasing and solidifying around her. The Thorn's blast streaked toward where the woman was now stuck in a column of stone. The blast washed over her granite prison, cracking and scorching the rock, but it held.

Nevur frantically began to wonder what he could possibly do against such a powerful enemy when a roar from behind froze him in place. It was so loud that he thought he might be deaf, even Carly had fallen to the floor, covering her ears.

There was a great whoosh of air and Nevur got the feeling that a mountain had just flown over him. Then he saw the giant mass of muscle he had seen earlier collide with their attacker. The rage with which he tore into the Thorn monk was almost impossible to watch. The monk stayed on his feet though, frantically firing off attacks that seemed to slam into the giant with almost no effect.

Nevur had only been at the hero business for a little while and was by no means the most powerful of heroes, but he always prided himself on effort. Concentrating as hard as he could he summoned more rock up from the ground, encasing the monks feet, giving him no way to dodge the enraged Lobe's blows.

The other heroes seemed recovered from the previous attack and began to move towards the battle. One held back, however. A pained look on her face. Nevur turned towards her, asking if she was alright. All of a sudden Carly started screaming to him about "something rotten inside".

Lyle a natural/blaster and old solider.
"I'm getting too old for this."

Nevur was getting more apprehensive as he neared the group of heroes. The rifle the one man wielded had torn the monks to pieces and now Carly was getting scared of one of the others. A well-dressed man was kneeling next to a woman who had been incapacitated by the monk. As soon as Nevur focused on the woman, Carly suddenly broke into a fit of shivers and started babbling something about "dead eyes".

"We can go back," he offered. But Carly swallowed her fear and insisted on continuing.
"Hello there," he called to the heroes, "I noticed you were..." but he was cut off by an explosion. A woman suddenly flew from a sidestreet, hit the ground and rolled several feet before stopping. Staggering to her feet she began limping as fast as she could down the street, glancing frantically over her shoulder. Spotting the heroes she called out. "Please you have to help me!"

A cloud of green energy exploded out of the same sidestreet as the woman, followed by a very nasty looking thing wearing a Circle of Thorns robe. Glancing towards the woman it drew itself up to its full height and bellowed at her.
"MORNINGSTAR!!!"

"No, I think he said 'Carrie', not Carly."
A little ways off stood what appeared to be a robot. Using the high powered comm antennae on his helmet he listened in on the group who had just defeated a group of Shockers and then some Thorn monks. The bright blue of his visored eyes pulsed slightly.

"Yes, I know the heroic thing would be to help them, but they seem alright by themselves." This wasn't the real reason for his hesitation though. The group's tactics were a little more extreme than a lot of the other heroes he had met so far, and Carly was already worked up over the charred monks. He didn't want her witnessing anything truly gruesome.

As always, he couldn't hide anything from Carly and she called him on his real reasons. "Okay, I guess I can't argue with that. That last Madness monk DID give them a bit of a hassle. All right, I'll go."

He smiled inwardly at Carly's glee. Funny that she was more adventerous than he was. He started walking towards them in plain site. After several attacks they were sure to be a little on edge and he didn't want them to think he was an enemy.

When the Thorn monks finally attacked, Slate started forward to help. He stopped short, however, as beams of energy seemed to tear open the sky. The monks were instantly incinerated.

With a low whistle Slate stepped back, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. That little display of power was enough to convince him that he was decidedly out of his league. He noticed some suspicious looking thugs wandering into a nearby alley way and followed.

'Still,' he thought to himself, 'probably wouldn't hurt to swing by this Morningstar's place, just to see what's going on. Heck, maybe these punks know where she is.' Slate smiled as he walked into the alley, looking forward to "asking" the thugs a few questions.

Slate held his breath as the telepath seemed to look in his direction, but he turned away again and began talking to the group. Slate sighed in relief. Sitting up he began pulling the arrows from his body, wincing with each one. His gray t-shirt and cargo pants were stained, but they usually were after a fight. After he had gotten them all he sat back and closed his eyes, willing the alien parts of his brain to quiet down. Once he felt better he picked up his red glasses, straightening the bent earpieces as best he could, and slipped them on. It was then that he noticed a Circle of Thorns monk watching the group of heroes from the top of a building. Looking around he noticed several other monks simply watching the group, but not moving to attack.
"Wonder if those guys have something they want." Slate wondered.

A few yards away a pale man tried to struggle from the ground as a horde of zombies pounded on him from above. Davis Slate grimaced as yet another arrow lodged in his back, he had once again bitten of more than he could chew. He began to wonder if this was the moment when his uncanny healing abilities would finally fail him, when suddenly the undead monsters stopped their attack, seemingly upset about something down the street.

Grunting worridly they lumbered away, jumping down the first manhole they came to. Slate pushed himself off the ground, turning his head he spit blood and a couple teeth onto the sidewalk. It would hurt like hell for the two minutes it took them to grow back, but it could have been worse. Wondering what had scared the monsters off, he raised his head, looked down the street, and suddenly wondered if he had been lucky after all.

A group of other heroes were finishing off some Shockers and it must have been this display of power that had frightened off the zombies. Normally this wouldn't bother Slate, after all, heroes were pretty thick on the ground in Paragon City. But one specific hero he recognized. He had heard about the telepath known as Contact and it was the stories of his powerful mind-reading abilities that had him worried.

Slate painfully pulled himself into a nearby alley, hoping that the other heroes wouldn't notice him. The Rikti part of his brain had been acting up something awful and he didn't want to run the risk of Contact "hearing" it.

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all heroes have a price whether it be some warm fuzzy feeling they get for helping someone or cold hard cash.


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My reward is the cracked and bloody face of the punk I just crushed.

-Davis Slate