Hammerstar

This has hit me hard, because I went through the same thing when SWG shut down. In that case too, game company executives made the choice to kill a game in order to remove it from competition and attempt to funnel its players to another game of their choosing.

Now, we see NCSoft's executives are playing by the same playbook, probably being coached by Sony and Lucasarts. To them, players of MMOs are minions, insignificant people not worth the dirt on their boot, and will mindlessly flow where the executive tells them to go.

Well, I think they will find what Lucasarts did. MMO players are quite a bit more intelligent and have a longer memory for treachery than they think. All NCSoft is doing is cutting their own throats, and their handling of the closure notices is even more disdainful of the playerbase than I think they are capable of understanding. As someone who was seriously considering GW2, I can now say that I will -never- try that game now, -solely- because NCSoft has done this. I think that that will go for NCSofts entire line of product, as every time I would log in and see the NCSoft logo, I would remember what they did to me, and lose any desire to go further.

So, as goes CoH, so goes NCSoft in my opinion.

I've seen this sort of thread come up every so often, and it generally comes down to gamers who need action and 'run and gun' in all their games being unable to understand a part of that game that isn't set up for their playstyle.

Devices is the 'Unconventional Tactics' Secondary of the Blaster archtype, and indeed of the entire Hero side. It is set up for those players who prefer the more indirect method of dealing with opponents, and more options in their tactics than those afforded by brute assault play. Admittedly, this doesn't work well on teams that only are interested in assault gaming, but there are those of us who think beyond that box.

There already exist many other Secondary pools designed for assault gameplay (almost all of them, as a matter of fact), and players are free to select these if their playstyle does not include the enjoyment of preparation before a battle, or hitting an opponent in a way unexpected/normally impossible. Devices may need some boosting to have it catch up to other Secondaries in effectiveness, but it doesn't need to be changed in content. Many of us rely on its unique performance for our playstyle, and would be extremely angry if it were changed to be 'more like the other Secondaries' in order to appease those who only have a limited range of strategies in their combat arsenal.

To the specific points:

Trip Mine: This is a very effective power, if you know how to use it. This is the power that can let a solo character take on an Elite or AV, because it lets them stack attacks over time until the character is ready to engage the enemy, producing a single, very powerful attack at the cost of time spent preparing....fair trade. It also allows the character to choose to prepare an area for a mob attack of smaller enemies, so it has vast flexibility. However, this is not a mobile power, and so it requires patience and a choice of where to fight. If you don't have the talent for these or the willingness to learn, then skip this power for another Pool power or Primary. Does not need any changes.

Time Bomb: This power has long been a lemon in the Device lineup. Very difficult to use and very situational, it pushes even the most strategic-minded Blasters to utilize as the timing is easy to miss due to lag or just NPC reaction. A remote detonator function has been suggested many times, and would be enough to make it worthwhile, but just making it a super trip mine with the same damage and recycle times it has now would make it useful. Again, not a mobile power, so those seeking run-and-gun gameplay should look for another power.

Gun Drone: Even when it was immobile, it was valuable as a means to close off or delay pursuit, or as a support gun when in a static position (again, not for the run-and-gun crowd...seeing a pattern yet?). Now, with the reduced summon time and flying mobility, the Drone is a useful support NPC that can attack at range, rather than needing to get into Melee Range. That it sometimes goes off on it's own instead of guarding a place you want it to be is the only disadvantage to it now. However, that is the price for the mobility run-and-gunners cried for. No changes needed.

My two cents on the matter.

17.

She sat upon a rock, watching them walk across the field that seperated the farthest road of Talos Island from the gate behind her. It was clear they were new to this area, and probably hadn't gotten their new security clearances more than few days ago.

The two Heroes walked with the characteristic confidence that all of them aquired after they had put enough Hellions or Circle of Thorns into the Zig, and had come to feel that they were finally getting a good idea how things worked, but now that confidence was shaken. She could see that they kept giving the War Wall dominating the skyline ahead of them a nervous glance, as though expecting something to come jumping through it. They were still too far away for her to hear what they were saying, but she pretty well knew what it would be.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" one would say, "We could stick to Talos for a while 'till we get a better feel for that place."

"No way! This is our chance to prove we can take on anything them Freedom Force guys can!" the other would reply, his voice full of false bravado, "Once we've come back with a few of those Banished masks as proof, we'll be -real- Heroes!"

"Maybe we should get some more people for this, then." the first would say after another look at the blank buildings just visible behind the shimmering fields of energy, "Backup, you know? It's supposed to be haunted by ghosts, and neither one of us has gone up against those yet."

"I ain't scared of no ghosts!" the second would scoff, "And how is anyone we get on the radio going to treat us when they find out we ain't been in there before we called for help? Heronet would be full of people calling us out. Besides, I hear the mediports work just fine in that hospital in there...just that everything is on automatic 'cause they can't find anyone who'll stay on the staff there."

And so it would go, one trying to talk sense into the other until they either turned around or went through to what awaited beyond. They had no real idea what they were walking into, and it was doubtful anyone had told them that even being dead would not mean that you couldn't be hurt.

Sonya Rabinowitz adjusted the sunglasses she wore as she waited for them to cross the distance between them, and glanced up to make sure of the time. It was important to make sure you had the time to get in and out before sunset in this part of the City, and that in turn made her think of what lay behind her. She had returned to Astoria half a dozen times in the years since the day her life had changed irrovocably, and even she didn't know everything that was going on within the dead ruins of her former home. What she did know came from the accounts of those who went in and returned to tell the tale, and that which she could discover by accompanying expeditions of new Heroes into the area.

After the Fall and the rebinding of the monstrous entity that they called 'the Sleeper', the Banished Pantheon had largely fragmented into a dozen sub-tribes, all working to undo the new mystic wards and bring it back to this world. But each tribe worked as hard to impede the others as to accomplish the deed, and the net result was a lack of cooperation that had largely kept them from making much progress on the task. At the same time, the Circle of Thorns had groups of their own followers working to strengthen the bonds, knowing that the entity within would seek out their Order for special punishment if it broke free. The mystic tug-of-war had gone on for years now, with neither side seeming to gain ground.

Sonya knew better, though. There was one among the Banished who had the knowledge to do it, and there was no doubt he would find a way to do so again. She had hunted for Rockage every time she had returned to Astoria, even on the expedition lead by the Freedom Phalanx that had built a new southern War Wall when the old had been damaged by a unique set of accidents. No trace had ever come to her, and all she had was a certainty that bordered on premonition that he was doing what he had done before...planning and waiting to strike. When he did, Sonya knew he would be sure of his success. There would be no ancient sorceress to reseal the passage this time.

Thinking back on that day, Sonya closed her eyes and thought about what it had cost her. The transference of her magical power to Anamoris had done more than given the ghost a chance to reseal the breach between worlds. It had also taken the knowledge that gave access to that power with it, and it had been a long struggle to regain even the shadow of the talent she had had that day. Even with MAGI's resources, Sonya found she could only manage a fraction of what most full-blown mages could do. That was still quite above what most 'normals' could do, of course, and she had found other ways to compensate for what others might consider a handicap in the magical arena.

Sonya owed that to her mentor, the woman who had meant so much to her for the short time they had spent together. It had only been after the shock had worn away that she had come to understand how much she valued what Vigilantess had shown her could be done if you had the heart to never give up, to keep fighting to the end with the weapons you had to use. Sonya thought she understood now how her mentor had breached her own protection to use the gem she had carried to free Anamoris from the thorn within, even though that had meant her own death. But Vigilantess had done it anyway, and given the world another chance to live.

Sonya opened her eyes and saw the two Heroes just ten paces away. She kept the assault rifle balanced on the rock next to her with her left hand as she used the other to tip the bill of her military-style cap at them and said "Howdy, guys. Going into the Dark?"

The larger of the two, a real tank of a man wearing a blue and white jumpsuit with a hammer embroidered on the chest looked to his companion before nodding and saying "Yeah. You gonna try to talk us outta it?"

Smiling, she shook her head. "Nope. But something tells me you haven't been in there before. Could be you might be interested in some help?"

The second, a thin man wearing some sort of environmental suit that only left his mouth and eyes visible took a step forwards at this, and before the other could stop him said excitedly "Yes! We'd be glad for some! Were you looking to form a team?"

"Well, not really. But I try to be around when anyone goes in there for the first time." Jumping down to the ground, she slung her rifle on her shoulder and brushed off some pebbles from her camouflaged pants. "That place doesn't need any more ghosts, after all."

"You've been in there before?" the thin man asked, his hands seeming to glow a slight green as his mood lifted.

"Once or twice." Sonya adjusted her tactical belt before she turned and began walking towards the nearby gate. "Let's get moving. You wouldn't want to be here at night. "




As they approached the gate, she gazed up at the immense structure of the War Walls, knowing these particular structures were unique in all of the City. These walls would never age, would never fracture from normal stress, and would never run out of power. They were the most important walls in the world, and one of the greatest secrets within MAGI.

Anamoris had done more than seal the breach between walls. She had changed the War Walls around Astoria, enchanting them with the power Sonya had so briefly directed. The sorceress had known the Banished would eventually undo her work again, and had prepared for it without them being the wiser. While they worked to undo one prison, they were unaware that success would only unleash their monster into a second, far stronger cage, one that encompassed all of Astoria. One where the only things alive for it to vent its rage on would be the very ones who had set it free. The mayors of Paragon City and the highest officers of MAGI were the only ones who knew of this last secret, and it set them against any attempt to reclaim Astoria.

Until that day, Sonya would continue to lead new Heroes into Dark Astoria, helping them fight the horrors within while hunting for the one man who had cost so many so much.

"I'm Cobalt Smithy" the tank-man said, gesturing behind him to his companion. "That's Radarian."

Sonya smiled again as she unslung her rifle, clicking a fresh magazine in place before she said "You can call me Nightbreaker."

Together, they walked past the Police guards and into the darkness that waited beyond.



THE END


.

16.

The undead hand of Spanky Rabinowitz dropped the empty handgun by the slumped form of Vigilantess as he walked with Rockage towards the waiting group of refugees, his hand producing a cigar and lighter from the folds of his coat. “Let’s all just take a step back from the young woman, shall we?” he asked the assembled Heroes and civilians “After all, no sense you getting hurt trying to get in the way of family ties.”

When the group failed to move, he turned to Rockage and lit the cigar. “I dunno. I guess Heroes are a bit less reasonable than in my day. Maybe your boyos can clear out the trash, and I can collect what we both need to settle up our debts?”

However, Rockage was backing away suddenly, his face no longer a study in confident triumph but dawning fear. Quickly turning back to where the group of refugees huddled, Spanky’s cigar dropped from his mouth as his dead jaw fell open at the sight before him.

All he could say was “Tarnation!”

__________________________________________________


Sonya saw the walking cadaver that called itself her great-great-grandfather draw Vigilantess’ pistol from his jacket, and the three flashes from its muzzle. She saw the heroine fly backwards as the bullets struck her, seeming to meet no defenses Sonya could see. She saw the way the woman-warrior fell to the pavement, and knew only the most serious blow could cause such collapse from her.

Then something broke inside her, a small barrier that had been in place since the day of her birth, and she saw nothing as she dropped to her knees, oblivious to anything but the knowledge and recognition that came flooding into her.

Sonya’s mind reeled under the impact of so much knowledge suddenly thrust upon her. She knew the shock of seeing her guardian struck down had been the trigger for the flood, but although that scene played over and over in her mind, it became a background image as another series of memories burst onto her.

She saw all of the dreams she had experienced of Anamoris’ garden, long before she had met the ancient sorceress, each merging with the one before it until they seemed one unified memory. Each, she now realized, had been slightly different in ways that she hadn’t noticed before, such as a squirrel family in a tree, or a new bush growing to the side of the path. Now, they all crowded together and flowed into the times she had spent with Anamoris talking within Vigilantess’ mind.

Those blurred as well into a constant fast-forward replaying of conversations, and Sonya heard the words of the sorceress as they became one mass soundtrack of overlapping voices. Out of this stream of words and gestures came lessons and knowledge that connected the new information flowing from behind the broken wall in her mind with what she had heard from Anamoris about the days when magic had ruled the world as technology did in Sonya’s. In seconds, Sonya understood not only how to use magic, but how to find the secret within her that contained an inheritance beyond her imagining. Suddenly, she knew why Rockage had been so driven to capture her. She knew why Vigilantess had been tasked with protecting her. Most of all, she knew why Anamoris had hidden her lessons on magic and its use so deeply that only an event so traumatic could have unleashed them.

And with that last knowledge, came the power.

With a cry of mingled loss and relief, Sonya Rabinowitz thrust her hand skyward, and called the power of Earth itself into play.

Around the refugees, the ground suddenly buckled and cracked, the ranks of undead and Banished shamen disappearing into the yawning depths of the deep pits that appeared under them as they sought belatedly to pull back. Lightning speared down from the spinning clouds, unerringly striking those who attempted to hastily bring magic into play, and the entire section of ground where the refugees stood lurched upwards and separated itself from the surface of the planet. A glowing sphere of soft light surrounded the group as the island on which they floated began to slowly move towards the gate out of Astoria.

However, it was Sonya who most of the assembled refugees stared at. She floated just above them, arms spread to either side, an aura of unmistakable power visible around her. Her gaze travelled from left to right, seeming to bring new bolts of lightning wherever she saw an enemy, and all within the floating sphere of magic could feel the titanic forces surging around them. The Heroes within knew instinctively that the barrier between the outside world and themselves was beyond even their ability to breach, and could only watch alongside the civilians with them as wave after wave of undead charged to attack it.

Every attack failed, the assaults meeting tornadoes that appeared from thin air or barrages of lightning that were far more powerful than any magic-using human had ever conjured in modern times. Those undead who reached the wall of energy surrounding them were repelled and thrown backwards with small tendrils of smoke flowing in their wake. Energies of spells thrown by the Banished cascaded off the barrier as flashes of light, no more effective than the undead horde in penetrating what seemed an invunerable shield against them. All the while, the floating island continued its steady progress towards the gate that was their only hope of escape.

Sonya glanced down at Vigilantess, lying in the arms of a civilian woman who was trying to treat the gunshot wounds. She knew now that powerful enchantments surrounded the warrioress, magic that would allow no other magic to affect her, and that even Sonya's immense power could not be used to heal her. With a grinding of her teeth and tears that refused to stay away, she told Vigilantess "You aren't done here! He's still out there, the man you swore to take down. Don't you dare die!"

They were barely twenty meters from the gate when she felt a change in the world around her. The very air seemed to close in about them, and the dim light began to fade as the wind began rushing in a new direction. Glancing up, Sonya saw the hole that had been growing in the sky was no longer empty. There, two massive forms were beginning to take shape, things that seemed to be taking the form of smoke-black wings. The thing onto which they were attached was still within the void, but she could see one taloned hand grasping forward as though trying to gain purchase and pull what was still hidden into view.

With this, the tide of battle turned abruptly. Shadows formed from the sky and charged at the floating island, their strikes rending the shield and allowing quick strikes at those within before it reformed. Several Heroes took wounds before anyone could react, and those struck fell to their knees in agony. It was only a thought for Sonya to heal them, but the attacks were becoming stronger, and she realized they were not actual creatures that were attacking, but the will of the monstrous thing that was pushing into their world. That thing was death incarnate, it's one purpose to end all life, and it was determined to strike at the one person who represented everything it hated.

Her.

With a cry of mixed terror and determination, she summoned every part of the power she had come into, and threw the very thing it hated in its path. Against the power of death, she used life.

Seeds almost rendered sterile by the onslaught of the Banished suddenly burst into full life, shooting huge vines and trees of impossible size skyward in explosive waves of dirt that propelled those Banished unfortunate enough to be above them into walls and debris with bone-cracking force. The branches reached towards the hole in the sky, and the hand that had been groping from within suddenly began to move backwards as the unseen force the trees were generating pushed it away. Lifeless birds suddenly beat their wings again, lifting to the sky in flocks that formed into large clouds of bodies, flinging themselves in the hundreds at the form above them. On the ground, animals that had been as decimated as the human population rose again to charge at the forces of the Banished in frenzied rage. In seconds, the battle within Astoria became a whirlwind of chaos and fighting.

But Sonya realized it was not enough. As each wall of trees and plantlife was raised against the thing above, its wraithlike will reached out to extinguish it. Each bird striking it fell lifeless again to the ground, and all the power she sent to push it back into the prison it had occupied for so long could only slow it. She raised another phalanx of trees, and again they died after pushing back for only a moment. It was a force of nature, and she saw that even her immense power would not hold against it directly for long.

That was when Vigilantess reached into the pouch at her belt and brought out the gem she had warned Sonya about so many days ago. Cradling it in one blood-stained hand, she gave a small smile as she pushed off the woman tending her and half-crawled, half-rolled to the edge of the barrier. Sonya, caught in her own struggle, only saw what was happening the instant before Vigilantess flung herself through the barrier and down to the ground below.

Light flared from below them, a bright beacon that outlined the shadowed buildings and clouds in stark blue-white contrast, and which forced the wraiths to retreat back to the void high above. The source of that light rose until it was in front of them, and Sonya saw the ghostly form of Anamoris hanging next to her barrier, the robes of the sorceress flowing in the wind as she nodded to her.

"Well done, long-descended daughter. Your lessons have been truely learned, and not without worth." Anamoris raised her hand to indicate Astoria behind her "Behold the prison. Behold the thing that must be imprisoned. You cannot prevail against it, but you can stop it from gaining this world. That which I gave you, now give unto me."

"No! You'll..." Sonya had almost said 'die', but she realized that it was already so. Anamoris had died many centuries ago, and even the knowledge and power Sonya held could not change that after so long. No matter how much she wanted to keep Anamoris beside her, to ask her so many questions now that she knew the link between them, and to learn the answers to why so much had happened, there was simply no way it could be so. In the eyes of the ancient sorceress who had so long ago been the start of Sonya's family line, the younger woman saw acceptance of this and a decision that would brook no argument.

With a half-sob, Sonya extended her hand past the barrier and touched the fingers of the ghost before her, a spark passing between them. In the next instant, the barrier and the island on which they floated ceased to exist as the magic that held both in place disappeared. All upon it fell slowly to the ground below, where they landed as though only having dropped a few inches instead of meters. Next to them, the gate leading out of Astoria began to open as those within saw the assembled Heroes and refugees and sought to give aid to them.

Looking up, Sonya and those on the ground saw Anamoris rise up to the hole in the sky, her form lost in the brilliance of the light surrounding her. Lines of arcane force spread out from her to touch the struggling warwalls, each suddenly glowing with runes and patterns of force before the fields they generated redoubled and became firm. In the next moment, Anamoris was joined by three other lights that appeared next to her, and a chime rang out across the landscape. The four lights came together and entered the void, the thing beyond being pushed back until there was a clap of thunder and the hole abruptly closed, leaving only a mass of clouds that began to descend to the city below. In minutes, Astoria would become blanketed in those clouds, casting the dead city into an endless gloom that would not end, even in full daylight.

But Sonya could only stare upwards as she and the others were surrounded by armed soldiers from the gate and hurried to the other side. The last thing she saw before the massive gates closed behind them was a single pinpoint of light, fading into nothingness where the great hole in the sky had been.

________________________________________________


In the days to follow, the City would gaze upon lost Astoria and hear the accounts of the few survivors. It would decide that there was nothing left to save, there where the Banished now ruled a dead kingdom and where only the emergency generators kept the streetlights on, fed somehow by forces no one dared to investigate. They would raze the road leading to that forsaken place and seal the gate to it with mystic spells to ensure only those from the outside with the proper clearance could enter that dread place. Soon, Astoria would only be known to most as Dark Astoria, a place where the world had ended one dark day and to be avoided as anything other than a lesson in how selfishness and unquestioning devotion to a single, deceptive voice could lead to damnation. Soon, it would be all but forgotten by most within Paragon City, a painful chapter in the history of a city soon faced with more pressing matters.

But the story of Astoria was not done.


<To Be Continued>

As UberRod pointed out in a previous post, I think it's important to remember Praetoria is a city that has been under seige for many years, and may be the last remaining Human city on the Earth (which begs the question of if the ships in the docks or the planes at the airport have any place to go). Under such conditions, it is very understandable that good people would support actions that would be unthinkable to them in a peacetime setting.

Sort of like a house in a zombie movie with a bunch of strict-minded police trying to keep every window and door closed while the civilians inside cry for them to open the door and see if the zombies are really gone. Are the police just trying to be power-mad jerks, or will opening any door be the mistake that brings up the credits because the movie is over?

I love how 'grey' Praetoria is, because that's exactly how such a city would be compared with Primal Paragon City and the Rogue Islands. I also love the 'modern/real world' look to Praetoria, which definitely sets a more realistic tone for the place (Paragon City always looked like a hyper-evolved 1930-1950 city and the Rogue Islands colonial or Evil-Fortess type cities, perfectly fitting for each of their type of inhabitants). Reminds me of the film 'The Last Action Hero', when the villian tells the hero what he likes about the 'real' world..."Because here, the bad guys can win!!"

Praetoria has to be the best thought-out and realized addition to COH I have ever seen. I am in amazement as to how well the team put together a world that not only was consistently 'grey' in morality, but made sense that it would be that way.

15.

The battle between the refugee Heroes and the mystically-empowered mob was going better than Willowspear had dared hope when she first saw the hundreds of half-clad people charging at them. Only the knowledge that the normal people behind her would stand no chance at all had propelled her forwards with the others to meet the assault, thinking that this might be her last battle but determined to go out as she had lived; fighting to the last. Surprisingly though, only a few of the crowd held weapons that could actually threaten the kind of superhuman power that stopped their attack cold, and none of her fellows had given those with them a chance to land a blow. Already, the mob was beginning to fragment and flee back into the depths of Astoria, and she cast her mystical javelin at yet another of the strangely-tattooed shaman that seemed to be the leaders of the crowd. He went to his knees as the shaft phased through him and took his physical strength with it, and crumpled to the street even before the enchanted spear returned to her hand.

It was when she looked towards the street ahead of them that Willowspear understood that her premonition that this might be her last battle was both truer than she could have guessed, and might not be true at all. “To the front! Behold! Our foe has truly come!” she called out to the Heroes around her.




From her place beside Vigilantess, Sonya saw what Willowspear had noticed, and her blood went cold. Approaching in lock-step were rows and columns of what could only be called an army of the undead. Half-decomposed bodies walked with only bits of clothing and equipment still clinging to them, but walk they did despite the obvious truth that none of them could be alive. Some wore uniforms and carried weapons dating to the First World War, while others wore even older period clothing. Some, though, wore the unmistakable costumes of superpowered men and women, and although Sonya could not tell how she knew, she was certain these were those Villians put in unmarked graves within Moth Cemetery by the 1960-era vigilante known as the Burialist.

And they were led by a figure she had never wanted to see again. Sonya sucked in a startled breath at the change in the former Reverend Rockage as he strode with a confidence that told her more than the artifacts he wore that she was looking at the person both the zombie army and the mob that was regrouping around them called their leader.

Unsure what the new arrivals were capable of, the Heroes drew into a tight circle around the refugees as the army split and surrounded them outside of striking distance. Waiting for the attack to come, all were surprised when the undead around them came to a sudden halt as the two encircling arms of their formation met, completely cutting off any escape, and then stood facing them without motion. Sonya saw Rockage step forwards and heard him as he called out to the refugees.

“You have truly surprised me with your tenacity in getting this far, but as you can see, this is the end.” He said as he lifted both arms to either side of them “These are the servants of Lughebu, and they will not be as easy as my minions to force from their ground. You may not go forward, and your way back is blocked. There is only the way of the Banished to all sides, and if you will not join us alive, then you will join us dead.”

“Never!” the Iron Wall said as he raised one huge fist to shake at Rockage. “No bunch o’ rejects from a bad fright show are gonna scare us into being one o’ your toads. You just come on, and let’s see who goes down!”

Despite his words, Sonya could see he was sweating under his mask, his eyes twitching from side to side as he looked for, and failed to find, a way out of their situation. Looking around, she saw the others were the same, each seeming to sense the level of danger around them was more than they could possibly defeat, and it was finally to her mentor that she looked for a last hope of escape.

Vigilantess was looking at Rockage with a stare that reminded Sonya of the memories she had seen of the warrioress when she had entered the other’s mind, of the days Vigilantess had cut a swath of vengeance across anyone who had come between her and those who had been responsible for the death of her beloved. It was without looking at Sonya that she grasped the arm not carrying the rifle and said “You stay here and be ready to put a bullet in that creep’s head if he tries anything.”




Before Sonya could protest, the Heroine was limping out of the ring of defenders towards Rockage, leaning heavily on the walking stick as she moved to stand in front of him. Looking him in the eye, she spat at his feet and said “You cheap scumbucket. I guess using Phillip wasn’t enough for you, eh? No, you had to go and grab every single corpse in Moth. What’s it going to be this time? Going to burn them all into cinders once they’d pounded us to death?”

Rockage smiled a deaths-head grin as he folded his arms in front of him. “Vigilantess! I might have guessed you’d be in this crowd. You never did know when to drop that idiotic crusade of yours. But you won’t succeed in what you are attempting here…these have no mind to understand that you are trying to get them to turn on me. And my more human-like followers know I am the Gimatiki, that to disobey me is to seal their fate with our Masters. I –do- appreciate you coming to talk with me, though…if only for old times’ sake. It will make killing you so much more satisfying.”

Gripping the end of her walking stick in a white-knuckled hand, she shook her head and snorted. “Oh, I’d like to see –you- try to kill me. You’ve been trying to do that to a young, inexperienced girl for a while now, but your goons haven’t been up to the task, have they? -Them-, I worried about. You won’t even make me breath hard.”

“Ahhh…you must mean Sonya Robinowitz.” Rockage tilted his head to one side as he looked beyond her. “Why, yes…I think I see her there! You have no idea how disappointed I was when you kept her from me, but I wasn’t trying to kill her. Her family owes a debt to the Banished that must be paid, and now I see you’ve delivered her right to me. I was rather hoping she was one of those in your little rag-tag bunch. I’m glad to see I was right! I’ll be able to settle an old debt and see you in the grave on the same day!”

Vigilantess’ eyes tightened as she balanced on her good leg, deciding that she could get to the hold-out gun in the boot any time she wanted to. With a contemptuous laugh, she said “Well then, why don’t you come on and do it? You seem to be good at getting other people to do your work for you. Let’s see you do something for yourself.”

At that moment, there was a deep booming from the sky above them, and she joined the other refugees in looking towards its source. There, the dark clouds had begun to swirl as though in an inverted whirlpool, and a dark hole was opening in the middle of that storm. To either side of it, crimson bolts of lightning arced down to strike at Astoria, and a wind began to kick up the dust and debris around them. With a dawning horror replacing her cold resolve, she looked back at Rockage, who was now smiling a little less than he had.

“You see?” Rockage said in a low voice. “Even I am a tool for others, a means to an end. The Dark One comes to the world at my Master’s bidding, and you know as well as I that it means the end to daylight and the world as you know it.”

“That’s…not possible!” she took a step backwards before she realized her bad leg could not handle such a movement, and almost toppled to the ground before she could right herself. She all but screamed at him, the words seeming to come from another within her. “They sealed him away!! None could find him again!!”

“Yet the way to do so was there all along.” He laughed as he said “I suppose one of those Arch-mages who participated when Oranbega helped push him out of this world wanted a little leverage against those who would threaten him, and copied the unbinding method to his spellbook so he wouldn’t forget. The book your dear beloved unwittingly brought back from the buried vaults that day. The fool all but gave me a blueprint for dooming this world, and delivering a feast to my Master such as he has never had!”

At those words, Vigilantess’ hand flew to her boot, only to grasp empty air. The gun was gone! Looking around in a rage-fueled panic, she finally looked at Rockage and snarled “Filthy murderer! You killed Phillip, and now you’re trying to kill everyone?? Well you can start with me! Come on!! I’ve got one good leg, but that’s more than you are worth! Get your own hands dirty, if you think you can take me!!”

“Oh, I don’t think so. You see, I know about the unique enchantment that the thorn you accepted placed on you.” Rockage’s smile grew wide again. “I’m not going to lay hands on you just to have my magic turn in against me. Being immune to magic in any form may make you reckless, but I happen to know what it would do to me if the spells around me came into contact with you. In fact, I’m willing to bet you already figured out that none of my undead can touch you without the same effect. Why do you think I relied on Frostheart to deal with you all those years? Her magic nature was the only one I had ever found to match your un-magic….and you had to go and banish her. Such a waste of talent.

“However, I wouldn’t be a proper Gimatiki if I didn’t have someone to take her place.”

Rockage turned so that Vigilantess could see the figure that had been standing unseen behind him. The person was a shorter man in the tattered remains of a business suit that would have fit into the era of bootleggers and Capone, and he smoked a cigar that curled smoke about his glasses as he gazed over at her. That he showed far more sentience than those behind him could not disguise the fact that he, too, was one of those brought back from the dead.

“Hiya, Miss Vigilantess! I seen you been keeping good care of my relation there! Glad ta meet ya!” the man bowed and tipped his moth-eaten hat as he said “You can call me ‘Spanky’, and I thank ya kindly for delivering to me what’s mine!”

With that, he produced Vigilantess’ missing hold-out pistol from his jacket, and fired three shots.


<To be Continued>

My Robotics MM dates back to the first days of CoV, and I always saw him as a person who was trapped by circumstances on the Rogue Islands, and forced to do questionable things to survive there. Nevertheless, he was never evil per-se.

And, much as Celestia said a page ago, one way to also explain the Robotic MM hero (as my character did) is as a Technology Controller, able to control computers and hi-tech equipment. In fact, the Technology Controller concept is more acceptable to me, as this implies the ability to manipulate the basic forces of the universe, something that explains how Robotic MMs can generate/summon mechanical troops in any location...they just build them on the spot out of the matter on hand.


Heroic Demon Summoning MMs probably only work if the idea is that the Hero is a reluctant summoner who somehow can't get away from their power. Likely, the person made a bad decision early in their lives, and now they walk a fine line trying to use the Demons they summon to help find a way to break whatever gave them that power without being in turn used or corrupted by those same Demons.

Zombies are a definite challenge, but it's possible that the undead are those of the victims of Paragon's crimewaves who the Heroes -didn't- arrive in time to save, or passed by because more important tasks called to them (how many high-level characters pass over a COT ceremony in King's Row without a glance?), and have been given the chance to exact revenge upon the same criminals who killed them by the Mastermind. These undead are the vengeful undead, seeking retribution for their deaths, and the Mastermind is the source of their ability to return to the world of the Living.

The rest all depend on the motivations of the minions in following the MM, but there are countless tales of Mercs, Ninja, and Thugs who had a heart of gold, and strove to do the right thing (even though their preferred methods included knocking heads together....kinda like some Heroes we know....).


My own two cents.

14.

Once again, The Iron Wall jumped past a group of half-dressed crazies brandishing bone axes and clubs, seeing them only in the instant that it took for him to pass from one alley to the next. They hadn’t seen him until that moment, and he didn’t give them a chance to react.

Crouching for a split-second to brace himself, he leapt upwards in a jump that took him onto the roof of the three-story apartment building and landed as quietly as his four-hundred-pound mass would allow. Craning his head near the edge, he heard the crowd shouting angry curses as they tried to find which way he had gone. He would have laughed at the idea of himself being afraid of such losers only half an hour ago.

He wasn’t laughing now. He’d seen the Yellow Viper hit by one of those bone-clubs and seen the life drained from the novice Hero in less than a second. The withered body that hit the ground was all the warning he needed that this was a very dangerous group he and the other scouts had found, much more of a threat than the Hellions he had cut his teeth on as a young crime fighter.

Still, they were only dangerous in packs like the one he had just eluded, the life-draining ability only seemed around when a large group was with some sort of leader. He’d brained at least five smaller groups with nothing more than a scuff on his boot shine to show for all the fancy lightshow those groups had thrown at him. With the numbers being what they were, he figured they could be beaten easily if the leader was put down fast.

The real problem, he knew, was if these freaks got to the shelter before he and the others warned them what was out here. The Wall didn’t think Vigilantess would let anything get past the front door, but that gun she carried around only had so many bullets. And if that kid she had brought with her got hurt….

The Wall jumped again, as high and as far as he could, heading for the shelter.


_____________________________________________



It was only thirty minutes later that the other surviving scouts returned to the shelter with similar stories of odd, half-dressed people roaming the city in packs, all wielding varying degrees of magic unlike any the assembled Heroes had ever seen. Vigilantess had the most experience in such things, but she could only say that such powers had been heard of but not seen in the remotest regions of Africa, and she had never encountered it before. Further questions had been cut short when one of the missing scouts, a young heroine named Firechalk, had come running up to the front door of the building. Clearly visible only a short pace behind her had been one of the large packs the Wall had learned to be wary of.

There hadn’t been any need to discuss what had to be done. Within a minute, the assembled Heroes had burst from the shelter and decimated the crowd, starting with the gap-toothed old man who had tried to hack the exhausted Firechalk with his glowing bone-axe.

As he carried the shaking girl into the building, the Wall met Vigilantess’ eye as she watched from the worn chair where she had seen the fighting taking place, helpless to do more than cover the entrance with a braced rifle. In a grim voice, he said “Some got away.”

With an equally solemn nod, she turned to look at where Sonya sat with several of the normal people in the room and gestured for her to come over to the chair. Excusing herself and giving the terrified women a reassuring grip before joining her companion, the young woman sat on the floor next to the Heroine as the Wall met Reverand Ceras and passed the dazed girl to him.

“You’re going to have to carry this for me, girl.” Vigilantess said as she began unstrapping the ammunition belt from her shoulder “I’m going to have enough trouble keeping up without it, and you’ve already shown me you listened good when I told you which end was the dangerous one.”

“Huh??”, Sonya blinked in surprise and almost stood up too quickly as the rifle and belt were held out to her. Reflexively, she took both and then started to give them back. “Hey! These aren’t mine! You’re the Heroine here! And, what do you mean ’keep up’?”

The other woman didn’t take the items back and a hard light came into her eyes as she met Sonya’s stare. “Don’t pull that dumb-girl act on me. You’re too smart not to know exactly what’s going to have to happen now. Our location has been compromised. They’ll come back as soon as they have enough to take on what we just threw at them…which happens to be everything we have. If we’re still here when that goes down, every normal person in this room is going to die. We have to move, and there’s only one place we can go.”

Sonya nodded as she reluctantly put on the belt as she had seen Vigilantess wear it for so long. “Yeah, I guess. But it’s just not right! You’re supposed to have this!”

A smile broke the stern face of her companion as Vigilantess said “You’ve been carrying it for a good bit of time lately, so I don’t see anyone else I’d rather have it. Besides, I’ve still got my hold-out gun in my boot, and a few surprises in my main belt. Don’t worry, girl, I can take care of myself right enough. But I can’t use that worth beans at the moment while still keeping pace, so it’s going to be up to you to watch over everyone I can’t when we go out those doors.”

Something about those words sent a chill down Sonya’s back and she looked towards the front of the building. She could see the Wall and several other Heroes talking and making plans out on the street while Captain Jackhammer and Willowspear started getting the inhabitants of the shelter ready to leave. Reaching down, she helped Vigilantess to her feet, and gave the pained woman the walking stick someone had found for her just before the confrontation. “We won the battle. Why would they come back?”

A clipped laugh escaped Vigilantess’ clenched teeth as she sought to find her balance, and it was only when she started walking towards the front doors that she said “Battle? That was just a skirmish. The battle’s yet to come, and it’ll come alright! They didn’t do all this just to make us uncomfortable. That African magic I heard of? It was supposed to be connected to the end of the world, and used by those who hate life like you hate mosquitoes!

“They’ll come at us because we’re still alive and not part of their cult. Unless we want to give them what they want, we have to get out of here fast!”


___________________________________________



The passage through the silent, streetlamp-lit streets was a march of the dispossessed. The twenty-seven normal men, women, and children moved through the city they had grown up in or lived in for many years, now horribly changed and bereft of life, with the hurried pace of those who desperately want to reach safety but know that every step could lead them further into harm. Around them, the Heroes they had come to hope in again soared or leapt, or ran at dizzying speeds, guarding them from the danger all knew was stalking them. Familiar landmarks came and went, old stores and restaurants frequented only days ago passed with only a glimpse to note if each would disgorge a gang of bone-carrying death dealers upon them.

It was halfway towards the gate in the War Walls that led out of Astoria and to Paragon City that they found what they had dreaded. There, where Eighth Street and Parson Avenue met outside a small park, the gathered mobs of the Banished unleashed their rage in a wave of bone-clad bodies and insane yells that froze every normal human who heard them. The Heroes who stood to meet that tide charged back, their own battle cries and shouts of defiance drowning out the crazed voices of the rabble they crashed into. Eldritch bone and spell met super-enhanced flesh and metal, the booming of blows and the cries of the injured merging into the cacophony of battle as each side sought to force the other to give way.

From his place deep in Moth Cemetery, the former Reverend Rockage heard the clash but did not react visibly to his lieutenants as they told him the battle was going badly, that the Heroes had far too much power for the gathered Banished to defeat them. Most of all, that once the Heroes had reached the gate and passed their charges through to safety, that they would come here and all would be lost. He knew their confidence in his leadership had been shaken badly when the Cleansing had not just killed the strongest, the ones who could resist, but even those who had been intended to be the new amusements for their dark masters. More, that some of those strongest had escaped so powerful a spell was inconceivable to the leaders he had gathered, let alone to the hundreds of living followers who they had shielded from the spell only by great effort. If he had still been in his role as Reverend Rockage and not Gimatiki, this latest vocal questioning of his leadership would have led him to consider if those around him might not decide to offer him up as a sacrifice to appease their overlords for the loss of their expected prizes.

He did not react, because he was already beyond such things, and had known the attack would fail from the moment it had been ordered by himself. It was just for this reason that he now dared what no other had for centuries, and the smallness of his followers’ faith ignited only anger in him. The candles, set in exactly the pattern set forth in the book he had so carefully studied flickered as a swirling breeze swept around him, and he lifted his arms high in the air as he called out in joy and rage. Saying the word long hidden by those dead thousands of years, he undid the last of the bindings on the entity his true master had commanded they free, and called forth the doom of life on this world.

As the ground and headstones shook around them and the dark clouds began to turn in a whirlpool of night blackness above them, a groan deep and powerful escaped from the earth. In front of them, the reflection pool surrounding the huge edifice that was the Crypt of the Unforgotten fell away, draining into the rent earth beneath it as the entire complex, a structure as large as a small fortress, twisted with a rumble of grinding rock. Turning slowly as if it were the valve on a pipe, the stone structure rotated until it was completely reversed from its former facing.

Then, the doors spaced around the crypt’s sides flew open with a howl of escaping wind, and it was only when the figures started marching from those doors that Rockage lowered his hands and turned towards his fellows. Across each cheek, a small, ever-changing symbol glowed and an infernal light seemed to glow within his eyes as he regarded the men stepping back from him.

Raising his hand to them, he said “It is done! He walks the Bridge of Worlds, and comes to those who have severed his bonds! The Sleeper is free, and all of this world will know his darkness as the last thing they will see! To your knees, and pray Lughebu finds your disbelief amusing and does not send you to join them! Behold his legions, sent in confirmation of his satisfaction of our success! Cry his name, as all upon this world will!

“Hail Lughebu! The Dark One comes as you command, and death comes to this world!”


< To Be Continued >

13.

It had happened as suddenly as a tsunami sweeping across a beach. The sudden darkness and utter silence outside, and the feeling that the world had died, the utter conviction that something -wrong- had happened suddenly. Everyone had felt it, and it had ruthlessly crushed thought and speech at the same moment the strange wind blew past the building where they had stood, sat, or lain. More, each was filled with the sensation that something monstrous and hungry was reaching for them, that to move was to betray their presence and invite the attention of what had happened outside.

Sonya could see these thoughts on the faces of all around her, as she felt them herself. Her terror was something that paralysed her every muscle and kept her eyes fixed on the darkened and still street outside the windows of the shelter. Even breathing had become a risk she took only with the most silent and shallow gasps of air. Yet from someplace inside that she could never name, her concern for her companion suddenly welled up within her, and she found she could turn her head to look towards the back room where they had stayed for the past days.

Vigilantess stood unsteadily at the doorway, hanging onto the frame with hands that shook. Her face was a grim mask of effort that conveyed to Sonya how much this cost the wounded woman, but also shone with determination and resolve that told Sonya that, if this was truely the end of the world, one of them at least would go down with a gun in her hand, fighting.

And with that thought, she found the oppressive fear faded. With a start, she realized the same conviction to never surrender had somehow grown within her, that it had been there when she had begun speaking to those within the shelter. Now, it bloomed to full life, driving the terror back and leaving her free to think clearly again.

"No." she said, her voice seeming to boom out in the silence with its clear denial. The others in the room all started and looked at her in astonishment as she turned to face them.

"No." she said again, becoming steadier as she continued, "This isn't the end."

As though the sound of her voice had somehow been a counteragent to the mindless fear gripping them, they began to speak all at once. The exclaimations of surprise and confusion mingled with shouted questions, the small gathering room disolving into chaos.

"What just happened?!?"

"Why is it dark outside?? It's friggin' high noon!!"

"It done be a nuke! They've a-nuked us!!!"

"I can see lights outside! The streetlights are on! That must mean everything's okay! They woudn't be on if things were bad, right??"

"Has anyone tried the radio?? Turn on the radio!!"

"Radio's ON, you dudhead! We never turn it off!! Do you hear anything?!?"

"You must have broke it!! Give it to me!!"

In the middle of the room, Sonya looked about in bewilderment as the pent-up emotions of the people around her continued to surge and turn, angry voices joining the fearful in a chorus of shouts that caused her to hold her hands to her ears and sink to her knees. The thoughts which had been so clear a moment before were now jumbled as those around her assaulted her with their voices, each trying to be heard over the last.

"STOP!!!"

The voices stilled as though a hammer had come down upon their owners. All within the room had turned to face Sonya, and it was only after she saw this that she realized the shouted command had been her own. Half-unbelieving, she slowly rose again, her hands falling to her sides as she slowly turned, looking from one questioning face to the next. She took a steadying breath, gathered her thoughts around the first thing to come to her mind, and then pointed out the windows.

"We don't know what has happened out there, but that won't matter if we tear ourselves apart with fear in here. Fear and panic. Those are the things attacking us....we can't let them win." Sonya gave a glance to Vigilantess and continued. "I won't let them win."

When the heroine gave a small nod, Sonya looked towards the costumed figures in the crowd around her. "You are more than this! Didn't I say that, this hour past? Didn't I tell you how important you are to people like me? You need to be more than this! You are our heroes, and I think we need you now more than ever. Will you help us? Will you stand and be who you know you are?"

The silence that followed her words was almost as total as that which had followed the strange wind. It was half a dozen heartbeats before The Iron Wall stepped towards her, his face set in a strange mixture of determination and eagerness. "I'll go and see what's out there. If there's anything that can take me out, I haven't found it yet! You got yourself a Hero, girl!"

Soon, all of the men and women wearing clothing showing emblems and bright colors had also stepped forward, silently adding their support to what the Wall had declared. They were joined by those in darker colors, or with no identifiable emblem, but none could mistake that these, too, were kindred spirits who had long fought the Good Fight in their own ways. In front of them, the shelter's normal population looked upon them with undisguised hope and awe, as though suddenly realizing how many of those they had known for years as their champions stood before them in the flesh.

As the Wall and his companions moved towards the doors at the front of the building discussing how to divide the city between them, Sonya felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to see Reverend Ceras smiling at her. "I dinna know how ya did tha', young woman, bu' ya did what I thought was an impossibility there. I'm thinking ya got an angel lookin' over ya."

She could only smile back at the old priest's words as she looked outside again to see the Heroes split up and, each in their own way, dart off into the darkness to discover what had befallen the world outside.

_____________________________________________


For his own part, Reverend Rockage was jubilant. He had walked from the empty halls of the Barca Correctional Facility alongside the African shamen who now called him Gimatiki, and they had been joined by the hundreds of others from the Dark Continent or from those of his own followers he had judged suitable for the task ahead. They stood among the empty, wind-swept streets of Astoria, their bone necklaces rattling, and knew victory was finally at hand.

He had divided the mob and organized them by rank, each group led by a senior shaman, and sent them throughout the city to seek the tools they would need. His own senior council would begin the work with the limited resources they had already, but he knew they would not make much progress without the secret caches of mystic artifacts the fools of the Circle of Thorns had stored away for this very day.

That they never considered that they might all die too quickly to use or destroy them was good fortune indeed, he thought gladly as his group moved through the gates of Moth Cemetery and into the lines of crypts beyond.

In minutes, he had begun to select sites where the ritual teams would begin their work, and had each marked with a stone bearing the mystic symbol representing one of the Great Spirits the Banished called allies. He then selected a final location, and the men with him formed a circle around the stone he placed on the ground.

Chanting and waving their hands in prescribed patterns, they began to draw forth the energies that would start to open the doorway between this world and another. His own robes fell to the ground as he donned the ceremonial garb of the Gimatiki, the supreme shaman of the Banished, and began his own part in the ritual. A glowing, greenish haze took shape above the stone in front of them, and quickly resolved itself into a swirling ball. One of the wooden masks that had been placed beside the rock by those encircling it rose to the glowing globe, and seemed to merge with it.

The spirit now residing within the mask peered at them from the eye holes of the mask, tendrels of magical vapour trailing behind it as it floated about their perimeter. It watched as they began the ritual again, another sphere of mystic energy forming above the stone.

They had summoned ten of the spirits when a sound caused Rockage to pause and turn. Coming across the graveyard towards him was one of the shaman he had dispatched to oversee the recovery efforts in the city, his lesser mystics following behind. Drawing up to Rockage, he gave the required ritual bow and hand gesture and then said "Gimatiki, there are survivors."

Rockage straightened slightly in disbelief, but covered the full extent of his shock before the others could notice. In a level voice that did not betray his concern he said, "Some of the Circle were able to escape the Cleansing?"

The other shook his head and said, "No, Great One. They were taken unawares as we planned. All of the sites have given up their prizes without protest. It was at the farthest reaches of the search that we discovered those who had not been removed."

"Then they are simple civilians. They cannot threaten what is to be. Simply capture them and release their spirits to join the rest."

"No, Great One." The shaman seemed reluctant to say what they had found, and kept looking away from him. "Not civilians."

Rockage was growing irritated. He had work to complete before the Final Door could be opened, and he had no time for these games. He thundered "What did you find that could cause you to continue to delay me in the completion of the Opening!?"

The other man finally looked Rockage in the eyes, and said "Heroes."

Rockage took a single step backwards, his carefully set plans suddenly shaken to their foundations. There were to be no Heroes of any kind in Astoria at this stage, either driven out by their own people or wiped away with the Cleansing. None could now enter Astoria past the skyshield, and his warriors were even now ensuring none could enter through the closed gates of the War Wall. How could they be here?!

The shaman seemed to take heart from Rockage's reaction and added,"They push back against our spells with mighty strength! Our ju-shamen hold back their advance for now, but it is only a matter of time before they learn..."

"Recall the hunters!" Rockage roared, interrupting the men behind him in their summoning. The half-formed spirit in front of them gave an angry wail as it disappeared, but he did not notice as he said "We will begin the ritual at once! Break the chains of the Sleeper, and they will be as twigs underneath the heels of the ox freed from the harness!"

Spinning around to face the circle of men and spirits, he told them. "They say each of these Heroes is as an army unto themselves. Let us then give them an army to face!"

<To Be Continued>

I wish I could say I was excited about a new Issue or Update, but after the last one nearly forced me out of the game entirely due to the new system requirements, I can only look at each new Issue and Update with dread. I have to wonder "Is this going to be the one that finally ends six years of gaming with CoX?".

12.

Reverend Rockage stepped out of his sedan and strightened his suit as the four bodyguards took up position to his sides. His other companions, all senior members of his congregation, looked as unconcerned as the guards. All of them were dressed as though they were attending a business conference. In a way, Rockage thought that was a truth, though he doubted those he would meet on the way would agree with that.

He stared for a moment through his tinted sunglasses up at the imposing walls of the Barca Correctional Facility, and marveled that the small investment he had made a few years ago could have expanded so much as to give him the latitude for what he was about to do. It was clear the popular myth that Astoria was the precinct where the PPD sent its most incompetent and corrupt Officers was more true that even he had suspected, and he knew very well the things that went on inside this building would have made even the most talkitive gossipers hesitate to speak of them, had news made it past its concrete and glass walls. Shaking his head slightly at how easily the PPD had played into his hands, Rockage finally began walking, his companions following in easy strides.

Upon reaching the doors at the front of the building, they were met by a uniformed woman whose cold stare could have done the departed Frostheart proud. She stepped close to Rockage and extended her hand. "Reverend. I take it the usual arrangements?"

When the Reverend shook her hand, he carefully ensured the small credit card he had brought with him was in his own. It disappeared as soon as her hand dropped back with a well-practiced ease. "Yes, Warden Joss." he said as they all walked into the building. "I assume the next group in the rotation is the Congo Dozen?"

"Yeah, though I don't know why you'd even want to bother with those witchdoctors." Joss said with a wrinkle of her nose that said volumes of her opinion of the inmates he had come to 'help' with. "Last time we had counelors in to see that bunch, I was sure we were going to see how many ended up with their heads on those necklaces. Took my boys a good two hours to beat them up enough to get them back into their cells."

"I have a theory on that, which I'm confident will change everything." Rockage said as they reached the elevators at the far side of the lobby."I want to see them all at once, in the same room."

The disbelief and shock on Warden Joss' face were perhaps the first time she had ever worn them in the long years at the prison, and Rockage could only smile as she sputtered "Y-you can't be serious! Those guys are certifiable! That's why they're here! All twelve of them?? They'll skin you alive before I could even get to a monitor to watch!"

The elevator doors opened, and Rockage's entourage walked into the waiting lift without reaction to the exchange between their leader and the Warden. "I don't think so. My bodyguards are all more than capable of handling things." he said, pointing to the large cases each of them carried. It was not normally allowed that visitors could carry anything into the facility, but the arrangement between Rockage and the Warden's superiors had been clear that he was to be given a completely free hand in his efforts to reform the prisoners.

Blowing out a fustrated breath, the Warden looked with resigned disbelief at Rockage as he got onto the elevator, and said "I've got it on the lobby tapes that I warned you this was a bad idea, so don't have any of your goons come down on me when they can't stop you from being on the lunch menu tomorrow."

Rockage's smile was the picture of patience as the doors closed. When she was certain the elevator was on its way, the Warden strode back towards her office, saying under her breath "Stupid preacher. At least I won't be seeing him around here anymore."

________________________________________


The room where the twelve figures awaited him was well-lit, but completely bare of either a window to escape from or furniture to lift as weapons. That didn't surprise Rockage, as he knew they were at least fifty feet underground and the only way out for most who came to the prison was up the elevator he had come down. Indeed, that pleased him, as it would make his own task easier in a way the Warden could never understand.

Entering, he saw the dozen men were sitting in a circle near the center of the room. Each wore only a bright orange loincloth they had fashioned from the prison clothes issued to them, and a small necklace with stones strung through the thread. All were bald men of obvious African origin, and the ritual scars they wore attested that it was not from the 'civilized' areas of the Dark Continent that they had come. All stared at him wordlessly as his followers surrounded them and the Reverend closed the door behind them.

When he spoke, it was not in English, but a tongue that only a few from a remote valley in the faraway continent would have known. "I bring you greetings, from your brothers in the world outside and in the name of the Sleeper. The time has come."

Several of the sitting men looked at each other before the largest of them turned to Rockage and replied in the same language "I greet you in the name of the Sleeper. If you are truely of the Banished, then show us the sign."

With a small motion of his hand, Rockage did as they asked. He also added an additional sign that caused the large man's eyes to widen as he spoke to the Reverend. "You claim Great Toku as your patron, ju-shaman? How is this possible, for a man not of the Land?"

Rockage's own face betrayed only stern reproach as he replied "The Old Ones are tired of waiting for those of the Land to accomplish the task set before them. They have come to those of this place, and given unto me the mission you could not fulfill. It is from their commands I speak, and you would do well to know me as Gimatiki."

This was a great blow to the large man. He had been Gimatiki when they had set out for the distant shores of America to find the place where their dreams told them the Sleeper was held, and for this pale stranger to say that he was no longer the Returner of the Ways....

Rockage did not give the reeling men on the floor time to question what they had heard. He motioned towards his followers, and they quickly set their containers on the floor and opened them. Inside were bone necklaces, beaded clothing, paints and various weapons made from animal parts. "Behold! I bring to you the tools to finally fulfill your vows and return the Banished to their rightful place!"

Looking from Rockage to the objects in the baggage and then back to him, the large man said "It cannot be. We did not find the place where this might be done before the mighty ones of this land imprisoned us here. It would be folly to enact the ritual before the proper ground is discovered! We would only anger the Spirits by striking when we did not know where to strike."

"You need not fret like an old woman.", Rockage pointed to their feet. "You stand upon the place this very instant. Were you to have your tools, you would have seen this already, but there is no need. I am Gimatiki, and this I say in the name of the Spirit of Death...the place is here, and the time is now. Your brothers even now assemble outside these walls at my command. They have all come from the Far Land to take this place and enact our destiny. I also say this as Gimatiki....

"Fulfill your vows to those banished, and awake the Sleeper, or suffer the fate of others who have sought the aid of the Spirits and reneged on their pact."

The large man swallowed visibly, and Rockage knew all of them would do as he instructed. Indeed, it was barely three seconds before the big man motioned to the others, and all of them began to sort through the items in the containers.

Looking up at the clock above the door, he smiled again. It would not be long at all before the final steps would be complete. Even now, his other followers were dealing with the few Circle of Thorns who might perceive what he was about to do in time to affect the outcome. Those still guarding Moth Cemetery would be the first to witness their failure, and he knew they stood no chance against what was about to happen. Their own books, obtained so long ago, had told Rockage that.

The clock read 11:30 in the morning when the circle of men began their ritual.

____________________________________________


In the Supervisor's Office, Warden Joss could not believe what had happened in the last twenty-five minutes. She was on the phone line to President Reggar, trying to keep her voice level and mopping at a cut above her swollen left eye. "No, sir. We have it under control. We don't need more cops from outside on this."

"What happened, Warden?" Reggar asked, his own voice clearly showing the stress he was feeling. To Joss, though, it seemed much higher than the news she had delivered to him should have caused. "I thought that facility was the most secure place this side of the Zig!"

"It is, sir. We don't know how it happened, but just about the time we lost the video feed from the room where Reverend Rockage was holding his little therapy session, every door in the building unlocked itself, including the prisoners' cell doors." Joss looked from one monitor to the other, each a scene of anarchy as prisoners ran from one monitor to the next, some with items they had somehow set on fire. On the monitor showing the elevator access on all six levels, angry prisoners were still trying to pry open the reinforced doors to get into the only way out of their subterranean jail. "It was just luck that one of the guards down there alerted us in time to get to the control room before the inmates could break in. It was a fight getting out after resealing the cells that hadn't openned yet and demolishing the controls, but we sealed the elevators behind us, so they aren't getting out of there any time soon."

"But Rockage! He's still down there?!"

Joss frowned at the rage she now heard from the President of Astoria, and could only say "Yes sir, he is." In the background, she could now hear a second voice coming from another speaker somewhere in Reggar's room, and although she could not make out what was being said, she knew by it's tone that it was at the end of what was probably a recorded message.

"No. NO!! He decieved us. He decieved -me-!" Reggar's voice had suddenly changed to a high-pitched scream, "And we were fools to listen to him!!"

Under her feet, the floor began to shake and Joss had to steady herself with the edge of her table as she listened to President Reggar continue to scream. A deep rumbling filled the room, and the monitors all went blank in quick succession.

In the confusion between the cries around her and Reggar's wailing on the phone, Warden Joss had a wild thought that it was just her luck that the first earthquake to hit Paragon City since Faultline had cracked Overbrook would happen right as her lunch break was due to start. Before she could wonder why that thought had come to her at a time like this, a blackness darker than night swallowed her and blossomed outwards from the Barca Correctional Facility, spreading like the dark shockwave of an unworldly explosion.

Where the wave passed, animals and people were swept into instant nothingness. Trees were converted into withered sticks, and the very ground turned a dull grey as all life within it was eliminated with the swiftness of a descending blade. Even the daylight was cast out, a cloud of darkness flying upwards in all directions, sending the whole of the landscape into dimmer and dimmer light as the wave continued outwards.

It was only the quick thinking of the guards at the barracaded gateway to the rest of the city that prevented a greater disaster from unfolding. Crying urgent warnings into their radios, they swifly ran past the reinforced blast doors with the few civilians who they could get through in time. Then the great doors slammed shut, and the experimental generators built into the structures around them cycled up in a sequence that had not been planned to occur for weeks to come.

All around Astoria, the half-completed 'War Walls' suddenly burst into life. Curtains of blue energy lept skywards, dwarfing most of the buildings and forming a cage around the recently-seperated part of the City. Intended to protect those within from the threat of alien invasion from without, they now did the opposite.

Where the wave crashed upon the War Wall fields, it broke and folded back upon itself like the waves on a sea striking the shore. The fields, never tested until this moment, flickered and in places bulged under the strain of the strikes, but held true as the wave faded back the way it had come. In its wake, Astoria lay lifeless and blackened, its streets barely visible by the still-lit streetlights, and the air as still as death.

And yet, it was not so. For there were those who were untouched by the wave hearlding what others would later call Nightfall. Those were men with animal bone necklaces, who had painted themselves in patterns perscribed by the powers they had envoked this day, and who now found a glowing, ever-changing symbol upon their chests. These men had planned many years for this day, and now looked at the bones of the urban landscape around them with joy and anticipation.


They were not through with Astoria.


<To Be Continued>

11.

In the hours following the televised announcement of Borough President Reggar, Astoria became a place of mixed celebration and violence. The more raucous residents hosted impromptu parties in the streets, the booming bass of their stereo systems shaking nearby houses and the fires set in various garbage cans lighting the night as alcohol ran as freely as the gossip and laughing.

Others, more determined and hateful, set about in packs to roam the streets. They were disorganized, poorly equipped, and generally only interested in revenge for some slight or other, or causing mayhem. These groups prowled the streets in search of any superpowered person who may not have gotten the message to leave Astoria, and the fact that certain individuals invariably joined these mobs who were armed with weapons far too advanced for their income only emboldened them instead of making them pause.

Most of the city's Heroes didn't have to be told to leave. Many saw themselves as servants of the Law, and willingly left Astoria until the courts could decide the matter of its ban on their kind. Others, utterly disgusted with the people who had cast out their champions, left in anger. Still others, unwilling to provide what they saw as aggravation to a bad situation, left to preserve order in a part of the city that they were certain had made a mistake. Statesman himself flew as far as the almost-completed War Wall gateway, and could only stare at the crowd that gathered below him to cry out their anger and demands. When he turned his back and flew away, the cheers of the people behind him were the last things he would ever hear from the living in that part of the city.

The next day, the Mayor of Paragon City declared that Astoria was now considered a seperate entity from the City, and until such time as the succession of the borough from the municipal government was judged illegal by the courts, all agreements between the City and various utility companies would no longer include that area. Power, water, and even commerical shipping ceased between the two urban areas, and the residents of Astoria found their electricity and running water sharply reduced as the emergency generators and pumps within the borough kicked in to replace what Paragon City had removed. Stores that failed to shutter their windows before this happened were quickly looted of every item, while the Police became more brutal in enforcing their own version of the Law in what was now their own kingdom.

By the second day, the riots and looting had died away except in the lowest-income area of Astoria. Exhausted and tired, many residents returned to what normal life they had left, walking the streets to their place of employment or seeking new jobs within the borough if they didn't already work within its confines. Traffic within the borough started to move again, with various companies setting up trade with each other, and others determined to take advantage of the new independence of their brough to renegotiate contracts with outside companies. On the surface, life seemed to settle back into a version of normality.



Thus it was that Sonya Rabinowitz managed to walk the streets in relative safety, her thick sunglasses and bags of groceries from the nearby food store drawing only a cursory glance from the handful of Police officers who stood along the street watching the passing pedestrians with the stance of implied hostility to any who might consider breaking the peaceful morning with more violence.

She made her way down Twelfth Street, and turned into the entrance to the Shelter of the Last Home, a former Bendelbeck's department store that had since been occupied by several church-based charity organizations who cared for the homeless in this part of the city. Sparing a single glance towards the dozing security guard at the front desk, she passed the half-dozen people sitting in the front room of the shelter as she went through the doorway into the back area of the building.

Here, too, were more homeless, but of a different calibur. Resting on cots or just huddled on the floor, mixed in with the less-fortunate they once flew or lept over were a dozen superheroes who had been too badly beaten, injured, or traumatized to leave Astoria. Captain Jackhammer lay against the wall, his closed eyes twitching in his sleep as the muscles below his two days of beard bunched and unclenched. Boltmaiden rocked back and forth, her broken arm held in front of her torn costume by what remained of her cape. Even the Iron Wall, possibly the strongest Hero who had worked Astoria's streets, seemed dazed as he nursed a bottle of water at a table that seemed too small for his frame. The bruises and blaster burns he had suffered the first night of the riots had begun to fade thanks to his superhuman biology, but he was still quiet and withdrawn, completely opposite to his nature before the night he had seen the Butane Baron torn from his grip and killed in front of his eyes.

Sonya did not like what she saw in the broken, dispirited men and women who seemed too stunned to even speak to each other. She knew the televised sermons Reverend Rockage had begun broadcasting just after the first announcement by the President of Astoria had been seen on the single television in the room, with the same anti-metahuman messages that had driven all of them from public view repeated time and again. It would be inhuman of them not to have been affected by that, but it was clear that quite a few of those in the room had begun to question if he was right, and that was something Sonya couldn't stand to see.

Quickly stepping into a small back room, she dropped the two bags she was carrying into one of the chairs and sat in the other. From the bed that was the only other piece of furniture in the room, Vigilantess raised her head to look at her. "Trouble...again?"

At the still-weak voice of her protector, Sonya gave a quick shake of the head. "Not like that. The Police are keeping their hands to themselves today, and it's almost normal out there. You wouldn't really know anything had happened, except that the streetlights are the only thing that seems to always have electricity, and the staff at St. Elegius have put out a sign saying that any Heroes brought to them will have to accept autodoc care because none of the doctors want to see them."

"Then....what's...wrong?"

Sonya looked back over her shoulder towards the outer room. "Them. They seem...I don't know....smaller than they should. Like they are missing something."

Vigilantess smiled grimly, drawing labored breaths as she said "They just...had the world...pulled out from under...them. You should know...how that can...gut-punch you, girl."

The woman's words caused a flare of irritation in Sonya, something she never would have experienced a few weeks ago, and she shook her head in fustration as she stood. "But..they're supposed to be....I don't know....better than this! Superhuman! Able to take the worst that can come at them and....well...."

When Sonya found herself at a loss for words, she looked back at the other room, searching for what it was that was gnawing at her heart. She couldn't put a finger on it, but she knew it wasn't going to let her rest until she had identified why she felt so...

Angry.

With that thought, her eyes widened in comprehension. Yes, she was angry. She was angry because those in the other room were not the people she had seen all her life, men and women who embodied the light of Justice and Order and would never, ever, give up. She was angry, not at them she realized, but at the shattered illusion she had crafted of them as immortal beings more than human and without the flaws that every person who had walked the Earth since its foundation carried.

And with that realization, the anger and fustration drained out of her, replaced with a determination that she would accept the truth before her, and not cling to a wounded image. To her visions of those she thought she knew. She looked back at Vigilantess to see the woman was still smiling.

"Don't make the same mistake...the people following Rockage are making. Don't start believing his hype." the Heroine sat up, but then gave a little cough, grimaced in pain, and settled back onto the bed. "Heroes are just...people who got a chance...to make a difference. We're just....equipped a bit better than...most to do that...for good or ill. Inside, we're...only human."

Sonya nodded. Only a week ago...two?...she knew she would have been unable to look on the woman lying in front of her with anything but unmitigated awe, and even speaking to her would have been unthinkable. The events that had ripped her from her normal life had changed that, though,...and her. She had seen Vigilantess' past and her own troubles had seemed pale by comparison. In the same way she had seen that past, Sonya had spent days listening to a long-dead sorceress speak of her own tragic life, of the many ways of a world gone for eons, and the magic lost with the sunken city of Oranbega.

She had had to carry the helpless Heroine to the shelter they were now in, guard her against the roving gangs that sought anyone to rob in the night, and held the weapon of that woman warrior in her own hands doing it. Her own hand had helped the priest who ran the shelter remove the bandages from Vigilantess when they had brought her to this worn-out bed, and she had been the one to care for the healing warrioress ever since. How could she not understand just how human her heroes were?

With that thought, she saw the truth of what Rockage wanted. He was using the meta-human words as a tool, fanning the flames of racial paranoia to bring about the situation he desired. But his broadcasts had changed since Astoria's seperation, the word 'Hero' replacing 'metahuman' so slowly that Sonya hadn't noticed until now. Boltmaiden was proof of the effect...she had no superpowers, only a crossbow and a demanding martial-arts background. Yet, she had been attacked just as savagely as any Super, and she was far from the exception.

Rockage didn't want meta-humans removed...he wanted Heroes removed. He wanted anyone who stood for anything trampled down or removed from his path, wether they were superpowered or just ordinary people who had put on a costume and declared their willingness to stand for the ideal of a better world. More, he wanted them destroyed, their spirits crushed. He wanted them to believe what he was telling the rest of the world they were. Because once they believed, they would break, and the rest of humanity would leave them broken, convinced of the inhumanity of those they once called their Heroes.

Sonya had stood immobile as these thoughts ran through her mind, and her hands had clenched into small fists. Finally she said in a small but even voice, "Everyone can make a difference. If they believe in themselves."

"If it bothers you so much, why don't...you go tell them that." the Heroine said, a strange look in her eyes.

The young woman looked over at Vigilantess and after a moment nodded. The girl she had been desperately wanted her Heroes to remember what they stood for, and the woman she felt she was becoming knew that Rockage could only hold power over them as long as they let him do so. If her voice could undo some of what Rockage had done, then she had to try...she had to make the difference.


_________________________


With her back straight, but her eyes and voice filled with compassion and pleading, Sonya stood for the next hour speaking to those who had long given hope to her, and returned it to them. In her, they saw a small light in the darkness that had enveloped their minds, and words to bring back the courage that confusion and pain had dulled. Even those who had never been Heroes within the shelter stirred and came to listen to her, and the Reverend Micheal Ceras, manager and caretaker of the Shelter of the Last Home smiled for the first time in many years as he saw the life her words brought out in everyone who heard them. Indeed, he himself suddenly felt younger and his spirit lifted as he listened to the young woman. Two of the shelter's most veteran residents he would have sworn could not walk rose to their feet and stood watching her, and he almost swore to Saint Patrick that the wilted flowers in his office seemed vibrant and full of color again.

It was almost like magic, he reflected.

Then, just as the hands on the old grandfather clock in the corner reached noon, a dull rumbling filled the air, and all of the power throughout the building cut out. He glanced out of the two large display windows at the front of the store, and saw the daylight fading quickly to twilight. A gust of wind swept past outside, and when it had passed, nothing moved within the shelter or outside it.

Those outside Astoria would much later name this day, though it would ever remain unrecognized or documented in the City archives, so painful and horrible in memory that committing it to record seemed less preferrable to somehow leaving the slate blank. As though, by doing so, hope might remain that it had not happened or it could be undone. But those who chose to remember whispered the name every year.


Nightfall.


<To be Continued>

10.

Most of the pedestrians on Third Street were long-time residents of Paragon City, and had long ago learned how to survive in an urban metropolis where superhumans regularly utilized supertechnology or the long-lost mystical arts to work their will, or enforce the laws upon their own kind. It wasn't something taught in any school, though there had been many attempts to include such subjects in the Public School system for years. Rather, it came from word of mouth and hard experience from those fortunate enough to survive a close encounter with forces the human frame had never been designed to cope with.

So when the massive bulk of the Butane Baron came hurling out of the front display glass of Howard's Pawn Shop, it did not take the appearance of The Iron Wall leaping after the villian to push every bystander into finding the nearest cover or running for their lives. They were veteran pedestrians at this sort of thing and had practiced this all of their lives. The Wall didn't even give them a second glance as he landed next to the bruised form rising to its knees in the street, his spandex suit stretching to absorb the strain on oversized muscles as the shock of the impact shook nearby trash cans.

"Give it up, Baron!", the Wall's deep voice boomed as he raised his fist in a classic haymaker preparation "This robbery is now officially over!"

"Hah!", the Butane Baron scowled up at the Wall with a leering grin, ignoring the small gouts of flame that licked his hands from the smashed flamethrowers worked into his wristguards. He spat at the boots of the hero as he said "I didn't become the foremost expert in pyrodynamics by folding up at the first hit by an oversized oaf who couldn't understand my work if he had fifty years and a hundred physics teachers spoon-feeding him!"

Even as the Wall tried to deliver his blow, a wall of searing heat sprung up around the Baron, the superheated air blowing the hero from his feet and back into the ruined front steps of the shop. The villian stood and brought up his hand as the Wall used his Wushu training to leap back onto his feet, a jet of blue flame engulfing the costumed crimefighter and flowing into the shop beyond to fill it with a sea of fire.

It wasn't until the flaming fist of the Wall found the Baron's stomach that the stream of plasma ceased from the small tube in the villian's hand, leaving the criminal doubled over and lying all but senseless in the street.

With the flaming store behind him, the Wall quickly beat out the small fires on his suit and cape, and reached down to carry the beaten villian back to the Zig for the fourth time. "You gotta learn. When someone tells you crime doesn't pay, they mean it lit..."

The Wall stopped with the Baron halfway off the ground, looking beyond him. The civilians who should have run from the battle site were still there. They stood in a loose crowd half-encircling him, and weren't moving away. Confused, the Wall frowned and said "Don't you people know you need to give a man room to work? Get clear before someone gets hurt!"

Then he saw their faces. They weren't the curious but naive faces of onlookers to a spectacle they didn't understand was potentially lethal. They were the grim faces of a lynch mob, and the Wall could see all carried some form of make-shift weapons. Lead pipes, bricks, stones, and a few knives of different sizes all were illuminated by the leaping flames behind him. The half-conscious Baron saw them too, and seemed more stunned by the sight than the blow that had ended his fight.

As they began to close in, the Wall looked from the Baron to the crowd, unsure suddenly what was happening. He was a Hero of the City, protecting these people. They always cheered him when he hauled the villians away, always told him what a great job he was doing. This had to be some kind of misunderstanding....they had to have mistaken him for a villian! Yes, that was it! "Hey, I'm one of the Good Guys! I'm The Iron Wall! Maybe you've seen my picture in the newspaper..."

He was still speaking when the firelight caught and reflected off of the guns that raised to point at him.

_________________________________________

"I still don't see what you want me to do."

Peter Reggar, Borough President of Astoria, had lost count of the the times he had used the line when talking to prospective voters, business leaders, Party representatives, and anyone else who questioned why his district of the city failed to attract the kind of trade that would let it become the shining beacon of urban excellence people who didn't live here felt it should be. This was the first time he had said it to a religious leader, and it was such a novelty that he couldn't resist smiling a little as he completed the rest of his old line. "I don't make the laws, the Mayor and City Council do. You'll have to take it up with them."

Sitting across from him, the Reverend Rockage folded his hands in a picture of spiritual patience and said "Yet, you wish it were otherwise, don't you Peter? Ever since the day the Mayor sent Statesman to your office, you know you've wanted to remind them that this is your part of the city, and running that ordinance about guards at Barca without consulting you was a serious slap in the face."

Reggar's hands had frozen on the glass half-lifted to his lips, and the smile vanished as quickly as it had come. His wine forgotten, he fixed the other man with an unblinking stare of venom. "You didn't have to bring that up. I didn't get where I am by forgetting when someone strong-arms me. Of course I want to put Statesman and his ilk in their place....teach them about serving city leaders instead of acting like they own everything...but I don't have a leg to stand on. The Mayor still calls the shots, and the so-called 'Heroes' are still seen as Heaven's gift to Mankind over in Atlas Park."

"What if I could give you that leg?" Rockage reached into the small briefcase sitting on the floor next to his chair and withdrew a thick stack of pages. "What if you had something that the Mayor couldn't ignore?"

Reggar put down his glass, leaning forward slightly as he tried to see what was on the papers Rockage was holding. The print on it was far too small to make out, but it appeared to be a list of some sort. "What could you possibly have there that would do that?"

Tapping the papers on the desk to straighten them, Rockage then offered them to the politician. "This is a signed petition by almost every single person of legal age in Astoria, supporting the establishment of Astoria as a Hero-free area of the City, with supporting testimonials by home and business owners on the cost of damages inflicted by said Heroes over the last two years. It further states the Public's confidence that the Borough President be made the only political authority recognized in this district so as to avoid the bias perceived in the other echelons of the City organization."

Shock and disbelief were plain on Reggar's face as he accepted the documents and began to look through them. As the minutes passed and his face passed into concentrated thought, he asked, "How..did you get this?"

Rockage sat back, his face now the one smiling slightly. "Many in your district have heard the truth of my message, and are very eager for someone to take the lead in showing the Nation that we do not have to be second citizens to the superpowered individuals who have taken it upon themselves to dictate our fate. I merely indicated I though you were such a man, and asked them to sign their affirmation. As you can see, they were quite persuasive in getting their neighbors to agree as well."

Dropping the papers on the small table between them, Reggar stood and walked to the large window overlooking the courtyard of the Municipal Building five stories below. Staring at the small figures walking there, he said, "What you are proposing is very close to civil rebellion. I hate the metas as much as you do, you know that. But if the Mayor gets the Governor to think that way, we'll have the National Guard in here to make everyone toe the line. I could present a dozen petitions, it wouldn't matter a damn."

"Actually, I took the liberty of having one of my faithful who is a legal professional examine the original form of the charter establishing Paragon City, and it seems that there is an obscure section that dealt with the possibility of the Mayors rewriting the laws to extend their time in office to a lifetime position. That section made it clear that the various districts could assert autonoumous governance in the event the Mayor was given a 'no-confidence' vote by nine-tenths of the residents in a special petition. I'm quite certain, should we present this document package as just such a petition when you make your announcement, it will produce gridlock in the State legal system and make the deployment of force to Astoria very difficult to justify."

Reggar turned to stare at the minister. "My...announcement?"

When Rockage failed to answer, the Borough President again returned to his seat and picked up his glass. Looking at it, he said, "Look, even if we did this, it would only be a few days before the supers decide to take matters into their own hands. Statesman would be right back in here, hauling me off to the Zig, trial or no. And how long before the people started forgetting how bad things are under the metas without them around? Then they'd start looking for the next big fish to fry for their troubles!"

Rockage nodded slowly and said, "Well, it would only have to be for three or four days. Time enough to prove that we stood against them. After that, it won't matter what they do. With the people of Astoria supporting you, they will have to accept that you acted as per the will of the People to stop riots in your part of Paragon. When those riots fail to stop, the metas won't be able to resist coming to the rescue, and it will all be caught on camera as they disregard the legal wishes of the citizens of Astoria. You end up on the moral high ground to both the voters of Astoria and the other district officials of the City, get to thumb your nose at the Mayor, and do it all without Statesman or his minions being able to lift a finger against you."

Reggar's eyebrows raised. "What riots?"

The minister's smile had not faded, but it now became more calculating. "Why, the ones that are even now starting. I do believe they could turn quite violent against any meta found in Astoria, so you really will be only acting to restore order and save lives."

At the last points, Reggar finally finished his drink in a single flip of his hand. Placing the empty glass on the table once more, he grinned a predator's smile. "Okay, Reverend. You always gave me support when I was running, and I don't forget stuff like that either. Sounds like you have this all planned out, and I like it. I think it's time I made an announcement."


_________________________________________________


On televisions across Paragon City, the image of Peter Reggar looked out, a practiced expression of defiance and resignation etched on his face as he continued his message.

"...and as of six-o'clock this evening, in response to the demands of the citizens of my district and to provide for the safety of the Public, I hearby declare Astoria off-limits to any person or persons demonstrating metahuman abilities, on pain of immediate arrest and seizure. All registered Heroes are hereby ordered to leave this district by order of the civil authority now in effect, until such time as the acting President of Astoria decides to lift this order. Further, pursuant to documents filed a few minutes ago with the State and City District Attorney's offices, Astoria hereby enacts its right to remove itself from the jurisdiction of Paragon City and is henseforth an independent township for those who wish to free themselves from contact with metahumans or those with extrahuman abilities...."

<To be Continued>

9.

The Reverend Judas Kenneth Rockage was a troubled man this day.

Standing at the sliding glass door that opened onto the balcony of his penthouse on the top of Astoria's most prestigious hotel, he held a half-full glass of brandy and watched the clouds pass above Paragon City without really seeing them. It had been two weeks since Frostheart had disappeared following the incident with the Police, and the fact that neither the troublesome Vigilantess or the girl she had protected from him had appeared since that time made it almost certain Frostheart had taken them to whatever level of the underworld her kind came from. In the time since, his followers had grown exponentially, spreading his message of the dangers of those who would call themselves Heroes to the edges of Astoria and even making inroads into Talos Island and Founder's Falls. It would only be a matter of days before he was ready to finally set his master plan into motion, and receive the power promised to him when he first came to this ignorant city.

Yet, he could not shake the feeling that something was amiss. He knew the foolish Circle of Thorns still sought to reinforce their defenses against him, not realizing that they sat in the very jaws of the beast they thought to repel. While they had succeeded in delaying him to this point, he would soon have more than enough to sweep their pitiful spells aside, and with so much of their attention devoted to shoring up their strongpoints, they would never see his attack coming until it was much too late.

As the minutes passed and he continued to find no fault in his plans, Rockage began to suspect he was simply nervous that, with everything coming to a final conclusion, he would be cheated somehow at the last moment. Still, the feeling would not leave....

"Sir, it's time.", one of the two bodyguards flanking the elevator said, pulling him from his preocupation.

Nodding once to him, Rockage put the drink down on a nearby bookshelf and strode to the door, straightening his white robes as he did so. "So it is, James. Let us go meet the Faithful, and light the fire that will cleanse this City."

______________________________________________


"When Oranbega first began to lose the war with the Mu, it was expected that every magic-using citizen would step forward to extinguish the upstarts. None of my countrymen could conceive that there might be someone among them who did not share their desire for the knowledge and power in the Mu lands."

Anamoris' words came as she and Sonya climbed a small hill into a sunlit field of wildflowers, and the smaller girl found again that she could actually get tired in whatever world they were in. This was the fourth time since the ancient sorceress had guided Sonya to a homeless shelter where Vigilantess could heal properly that she had sneaked back into the part of Vigilantess' mind where Anamoris dwelt. Each time, it had become a little easier, and Anamoris had shown Sonya how to avoid what had happened the first time she had come.

She had also cautioned Sonya that doing so more than a half-dozen times would risk her own spirit becoming trapped in the gem that Vigilantess kept in a belt pouch. While the older woman had begun the lessons on Oranbega's tragic history on their first meeting, Sonya had found herself compelled to ask each time she returned for more about the ancient city-state that had so long ago been buried along with their ambition.

It was still hard for her to accept she was talking to a woman who not only was supposedly there at the time, but also a powerful sorceress.

Reaching the top, Anamoris waited for Sonya to gain her side before gesturing towards a stone bench that stood to one side. Sitting on one side, she continued as Sonya took the other. "I was a caretaker of the city gardens, a lifegiver. I cared not at all about far lands or subduing rebellious tribes. Even when the Mu came to our gates, I did not concern myself with them. It was not until the Great Conclave cast the Sundering that I realized how desperate the situation was, and by that time, it was far too late to stop what followed.

"I and my countrymen were cast into spirits, our city fell into the depths of the Earth, and the Mu met their own destiny long before your ancestors thought to raise stones to build their homes, or tame wood for tools. But the Art we mastered continued, a life of its own seeking a home. It found many though the eons since, but only when the Circle came into being did it finally find those willing to bring back the lost city and those who once walked its streets."

Looking at Sonya, Anamoris let a small smile reach her lips as she said "Imagine the surprise of those Circle adepts when they realized the thorn they had given to a distraught woman seeking only vengence contained the spirit of a gardener."

Sonya could not help but give a small giggle and quickly brought her hand up in surprise. For a moment, she had forgotten what had drawn her to this place today. Vigilantess had woken for the first time, and it seemed the care of the old priest that ran the Shelter of the Last Home had finally brought the woman warrior back from whatever injuries she had suffered at the hands of Frostheart. That had, in turn, reminded Sonya of what she had seen in Vigilantess' memories, and so troubled her that she had risked returning once again when the heroine had drifted to sleep. She had to know the answer to a terrible question, one that was even more difficult because Anamoris sounded so much like she cared about Sonya.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Sonya asked "But I saw her after..the ceremony. Did you...cause that?"

"The killings?" Anamoris' face fell as she said "Sonya, you must understand. She had lost the person she most cared for in this world to a cabal of men and women who used him to plunder Oranbega, and she all but sold her soul to gain the power to hunt them down. I had no desire to supplant another person's spirit, and because of that, we ended up two spirits in one body. It took many months for her and I to even speak to one another, let alone for her to listen to what I had to say.

"No, I did not cause her to extract her vengence. But in the end, it is possible I did help her regain her sanity. It remains to be seen if that was a good thing in the greater scheme of things."

Sonya stared at the other woman in disbelief. "How can you say that?"

Anamoris looked away from Sonya as she said "The last of the cabal that raided Oranbega escaped Vigilantess because I intervened. Alerted to his danger, he has since taken precautions and gained allies to protect himself against her. With the knowlege gained from the dark vaults of my ancient home, it may well be that one day soon we will wish she had killed him before I stopped her."

When Anamoris looked back, she smiled and said, "But that is tomorrow's worry. I have some more stories to tell you of my life, and I think you will find them very enjoyable...."

<To Be Continued>

Well, things didn't go as planned, and I ended up with alot more RL commitments than I'd forseen. However, I've finally gotten back to the word processor, and will keep posting this story for those who wish to keep reading it.

Thanks for the advice, but I'm afraid neither reducing the Max Particle Count or using the Geometry Buffers had any effect on the fps of the game. Still getting 2-4 fps on many parts of the game (though at least using the geometry buffers doesn't give the old vector graphics problem it used to).

It just irritates me that the devs couldn't leave the non-ultra mode graphics alone, and impacts the gameplay of those unable to use it. EVE Online went this way, and forced alot of players out of their game in favor of catering to those with top-teir systems. I'd hate to think CoX is going this route.

I run a Gateway MT3423 Laptop with a Nvidia GeoForce Go 6100, and I have seen a very noticable hit on framerate as well. Even with all the options for Ultra Mode disabled, it seems the 'upgrade' is still doing the opposite for me.

I've tried everything I can think of sort of -lowering- my setting below the point they were at before I17 (which I feel would bring the game's quality down to the point it would hardly be worth playing anymore....some upgrade). I've even tried adjusting the Shader Quality upward as one poster suggested, but that had the predictable result of making things worse, not better.

My settings before I17 were (and remain):

Screen/Ui Res: 1280 x 80
3D Scale: 1140 x 712
Refresh Rate: 60
Gamma: 100%
Advanced Graphics: Enable

Suppress Player FX: Disable
Suppress Player FX when Close: Enable
Particle Quality: None
World Texture Quality: High
Character Texture Quality: High
World Detail: 76%
Character Detail: 100%
Max Particle Count: 50000
Vertical Synch: Enable
FSAA: Off/Disable
Shadows: Enable/Stencil
Geometry Buffer: Disabled
Antisotropic Filter: Off
Texture Crispness: Smooth
Shader Quality: Low (No World)
Water Effects: None
Depth of Field Effect: Disabled
Bloom Effects: None
Desaturation Effects: Disabled

I've checked for updated drivers, and have the most current one (same as before I17) from Gateway (Nvidia refuses to support the Go 6100, and does not list it on their website, requiring users to gain any updates from the computer manufacturers).

I'm more or less at my wits end trying to think of anything to do that won't lower my graphics further. Currently operating at about 3-4 fps in most areas of the game. Tried adjusting Shader Quality, Shadows, Max Particle Count, all without beneficial effect.

Any ideas?

Name: Cycles in Binary
ARC ID: 364457
Length: Long ( 4 missions)
Enemy Groups: Banished Pantheon (1st mission), Custom Group
Morality: Neutral
Levels: 41-50

Synopsis:

AE Corporation has been experimenting with a unique use of their simulations...to treat Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) among superpowered humans. Now, something has gone wrong, and they need someone to find out why one of their most promising simulations is dying.

This is part 2 of the 'Hegemony' Arc (Part 1 is 'A Spark in the Grid' ID# 64962).


Author's Notes:

This is the second installment in the 'Hegemony' arc. While a continuation of that arc, it can be played independently as both are different sorts of stories. While 'A Spark in the Grid' has an element of humor, this one is decidedly darker and has implications of a Horror element.

Any feedback is welcome!

And of course, those same people spend their time in an Online Role Playing Game.

If people don't approve of Role Playing, maybe they should go play a RTS game instead of an MMORPG? Just common sense here.

Oh wait...we're talking the mentally ill here.

No worries. Glad to see other people wanted a list as well!

I decided to post it in the 'Challenge' sticky to allow it to be persistant for those who go looking for it in the future, so they don't have to comb through multiple posts.

Again, if you see one not on the list, let me know and I'll try to keep it accurate.