Mr_Grey

Anybody who has been through this city for a while knows that the Council is not a group of pushovers. Normally.

My name is Cedric Grey. I was a Marine during the Rikti War, and now, after a few years of recuperation, I've come to Paragon to try my luck at being a hero.

Lately, my focus has been the Council. These guys just aggravate me to no end, I'll tell ya. Them and the Sky Raiders. There's just something wrong about an army uncontrolled by the federal government operating on my home soil. But, there they are, and the Council operates in the open. I do my best to bust up their little recruiting stands whenever I can.

However, every so often, my skull bashing or one of my contacts lends me some evidence to a small base or outift the Council may be running. With a smile on my face and my armor donned, I kick in the door to the latest warehouse I've found.

I pull my axe and look about.

Nothin.

Well, that's not exactly true. There's plenty of equipment strewn about, tapestries on the walls and hanging from the rafters with that big, black fireball with a "C" in it. A few computers and a communciations array sit in a corner, beeping and humming. The lights are on, but nobody's home.

"Hello?" I ask cautiously, but then, I throw caution to the wind and shout "HELLO!"

Echoes answer me.

No ambush. No shouts of alarm. What gives?

I tour the small fortified warehouse. I keep to the shadows and "turkey peak" the corners. I meticulously map out every nook and cranny of the building, and I find nothing before I happen upon the Adjutant running this place.

I find him in one of those offices that overlook the main floor. He's got his feet kicked up on his desk and he's rifling through one of those borderline magazines. You know what I mean, the ones where the girls pose provocatively, but aren't actually nude. He's got one of those and he's humming happily to himself.

Very unprofessional, but he doesn't seem too concerned about it. When I make some audible steps into the room, he calls in my direction, "Took you guys long enough, Bill. I was about to go out lookin for ya."

He turns and sees me. I give him a hearty smile.

"You're not Bill."

"Nope, I'm afraid not."

"You're not even Council."

"Of course not. You see Council in the habit of swinging axes about?"

At mentioning my axe, I get uneasy. I got it off a Warrior when I first started out. He was transporting it through Atlas Park on his way to the Hollows while I was registering with ELITE. Lately, though, I'm wondering if that was a good idea... I almost hear a whispering, and start to feel that I'm wasting time here and that I should just chop off his head and get this over with. Chop off his head? No! That's not what I do...

"I gotta tell ya," I shake my own head to clear it, but this Adjutant will never know that, "I expected more guys. If I've got this straight, you sent your whole force out to get lunch?"

"Well," he leans back in his chair and shrugs, "The boys like different places. Some prefer burgers, others like Chinese. I like pizza, personally, but I'm about hungry enough for anything right now."

I sit on a nearby chair arm and smirk at the guy, "But... You sent out your entire force! I mean, come on! That's a notoriously bad decision! I mean, we're talking" grievous error" here, like... you should be fired for this!"

"It never bothered my superiors."

We stare at each other for a few moments before I start laughing. He doesn't understand, so for a few minutes, he keeps getting more and more perplexed.

"Let me... heh heh heh-hahahahaha.... let me get this straight..." I gasp for breath and chuckle a little more, "This is the 'Crap Unit,' isn't it? This is where the Council sends the troops it has that jsut don't cut it, right?"

"No!" The Adjutant gets up and I see he doesn't even have a name tag, "We do really important work here... Like... like... monitoring hero traffic!"

"Yeah, you and every other goon in this city. Heck! I bet those little recruiting groups outside see more than you guys, all cooped up in here..."

He throws his chair through the window. Oddly enough, this means he's not mad at me. He proves it with the stream of expletives, most of which are directed at his superiors.

"They lied to me!" he finally gasps out, "They told me this was an important promotion! What the Hell!?"

"I guess they only promote the truly nasty guys, huh?"

At this, he glares at me. A scowl crosses his face and he snarls a little.

"I'll show them," he spits, "I'll show them I have what it takes! then I'll be free of this 'joke' unit and start working my way to the top! I'll even take the place of Maestro! Yeah!"

"There're those delusions of grandeur I've come to expect!" I laugh as I stand back up, then, while dusting off my hands, "It's a good thing, too. I don't think I could've lived with myself just beating you up knowing you had no fight in ya."

"I'll show you what I've got!" he screams as he shoots his leg up at my face.

I catch his ankle with my left hand and gaze into his eyes.

"You didn't have to make this easy with this half-[censored] attack attempt, you know."

"I was using my whole [censored]..." he whines.

"Oh, wow!" I barked out while laughing and drawing my axe, "That's your best? Oh, you belong in here!"

Five minutes later, I was dragging him out with one ankle slung over my shoulder. I was whistling a theme tune from a popular night-time cartoon and had just got outside when I realised I wasn't alone.

Looks like the cavalry arrived.

"Which one of you is Bill?" I ask after a few moments of all of us sizing each other up.

One of them, a Force trooper, stepped forward. He had a bag from Turbo Burger, the super fast burger joint, in his hand. His minigun was slung over his back.

"Uh... that would be me..." he didn't sound very confident, and his belly was a tad swollen.

"Well, your boss won't be needing that burger after all," I laughed, "What took you guys so long?"

"We got caught in traffic..." one guy said in the background. He was followed by a series of "traffics" and "yeahs" that just left me pressing my lips together to suppress a smile and shaking my head.

"Well, all I can say is you guys did bad," I hold up their boss for them to see. Council leaders are surprisingly limber, I guess it's all the kicks they have to do, so his free foot easily smacks him in the face, "You failed your boss, and you failed your Council. You should be ashamed."

I have to see if my Drill Instructor is still around so I can thank him for lines like that.

"Aw, we did bad," one guy in the background whines. He's promptly nudged in the shoulder by one of his compatriots.

Unfortunately, Bill gets an idea.

"Hey! We could beat this guy into a pulp!"

I wonder if my eyes bugged out as much as they felt like they did, "Now now, guys, you don't want to do that..."

I start reaching for my axe...

"Yeah!" Bill egged his buddies on, "We could put this guy in the hospital, and probably end up getting enough of a bonus from central command to get a big screen TV installed in there!"

This was followed with a resounding "Yeah!" and I just dropped their boss on the concrete sidewalk. As I drew my axe, however, I noticed something. Most of these guys were lacking their weapons.

In fact, it looked like Bill was the only armed one. And he was struggling with his minigun.

With a grunt, Bill swung that thing off his shoulder and nearly spun himself around. A couple nearby troops helped right and point him in my direction. I arched an eyebrow at Bill as he swayed a little, sighted in, then fired.

A line of bullet holes drilled into the ground in my direction, and he probably would've killed his boss if I hadn't nudged him out of the way with my boot.

I looked up at Bill after his gun ran dry and smiled.

"You're not in the best shape right now, are ya?"

Now, I'll give them some credit. Some. They made me break a sweat. They even gave me a black eye. But it was still sad, that out of thirty of them, I came out on top. Bill couldn't even take a punch in the face! I called in the PPD drones when I was done and left a little letter in the Adjutant's pocket.

I was asking for where I could find some of those snazzy outfits they've got so I could display it like a trophy. I don't think he'll be too happy.

I had been staking out the facility for about three hours, now. From as near as I could tell, the Outcasts were just hanging out inside the abandoned structure. The Hollows were full of places like this, and there was no shortage of Outcasts.

You'd think they'd have come up with a better name for themselves, like the Elementals or something that complied more readily to the control over fire, ice, stone, and electricity that their membership exhibited. Some were mutants, but their conformity could only be applied to mystical or technological intervention. Since they lacked implants or external devices (aside from their firearms), I was more ready to accept the former.

Eventually, I got fed up with waiting. I know I'm not a tanker, but I still have a problem with impatience. Witha wild yell, I've kicked down their front door and swiped my katana twice at their guard. He goes down from shock, I barely nicked him, but he can barely believe what's happening. His comrades, however, are far more resilient.

"It's a hero! Get him! I'm gonna make you feel pain, little man!"

If they keep talking, I'll die from cliches before they can hit me.

I duck under a lance of flames and swoop in to its thrower, hacking at his shins and biceps. He falls screaming and I silence him with a well-placed stroke to the head with the back of my blade. I move on to the next, and the next after that, and the next after that.

My name is Matt. Mad Matt McGinty. I was trained in kendo for much of my youth, all the way through high school. My dad insisted on it, he said he wanted me to have the discipline he lacked in youth. So far, I don't see how its helped. I still have bouts of impulsiveness, like this fight here.

Any normal person would've snuck in during the night, taken the artifact these guys are supposedly guarding, and snuck out. Let the Outcasts deal with the Outcasts. Instead, I feel like barging in, hacking these guys a few new bleed holes, then knocking them out for the Police Drones to take care of.

My mentor also taught me a few tricks at evasion, which have come in exceptionally handy in these situations. A subtle change in the air, and I barely duck a flying boulder. The resident "tanker" in this building, a gray skinned young man who I overhear is named "Crag" has decided to have a rock fight with me. Not being able to throw the same sized rocks, I decide I'd better get close and personal with him.

Another boulder comes speeding toward me, and my katana slices through it with ease. Since it's a magically enhanced blade, I don't need to worry about sharpening it later. This is a first for Crag though, who's jaw drops open when I'm suddenly in his face.

Of course, he's just feigning surprise. Crag's been in and out of the Zig for a few years, now. It's a real problem with the Outcasts, so many look alike, it's hard to pick them out in a line-up. In any case, he's buying himself some time to wrap big, heavy rocks around his hands with whatever mental control he has over the earth. I find this out when he grits his teeth, then seethes out some roars as he swings these clubs at me. I lean back twice to avoid the blows, and swat him a couple times in the face before dashing backwards to gain a better stance.

We face each other for a couple seconds.

"Do you know who I am!?" he growls at me, "I'm Crag! I've been arrested by only the best! And I'll be putting you down for this audacity you little freak!"

"Audacity," I snap back, "Funny. You learn that one in prison? Tell me, who're the different heroes who cut their teeth on ya, huh? Let me know so I can find em later and have a good laugh at your expense!"

"Fool! I was put down by Randall Grey! He was one of the few, only a few, that could best me!"

"Is that a fact?" I laughed as I pulled out my communicator and pressed a couple buttons, "Hey! Randy! I'm fighting Crag!"

A gruff "Who?" comes back over the communicator.

"Crag! He says he remembers you beating him to a pulp and carting his sorry butt to the Zig! Like it's his moment of glory! Isn't that sad?"

"Hey!" Crag's voice didn't sound like a growling dog anymore, more just a dejected nerd, "He didn't beat me to a pulp! It was a long, drawn out battle! I almost knocked him out!"

"Sorry," Randy's voice came back over the communicator, "I hear his voice... I just can't place him. Is he an Outcast? Sounds like an Outcast name, or a Devouring Earth... But they tend to just kill you. They don't stop for banter..."

"Hey! You can't talk like that about me! I'm Tony "Crag" Weathers! I throw the beatdown on all you heroes... I... I thought... I made more of an impression..."

Crag sat down, his rock armor dissipating. He just kind of curled up into a ball and started crying into his forearms.

"Is he crying now?" Randy sounded amused.

"Yeah boss," I replied glumly, "I thought this would go more violently. Looks like this little conversation took the fight out of him, though."

"Don't expect the same from Frostfire."

"Right boss."

I turn off the communicator and go into the next room. I don't know what I expected, a display case, a stand, maybe a plaque where they have the artifact mounted. Instead, I find the Phoenix Star (they're actually quite common magical artifacts nowadays, they bestow minor fire casting capabilities on a user, but they bestow them for life) sitting forgotten under a pile of papers. Judging from the guy cowering in the corner and the state of disarray of this "office," I happened upon this little enclave just when they were trying to find the artifact themselves so they could make this new intitiate.

"Sorry, Match-lite. Looks like you won't be struck today."

On my way out, I tag Crag. After punching in a couple buttons on my communicator, I wait for the police drones to come by and start carting off his goons.

"Cheer up, Crag," I smirk at him, "You're still important to heroes. If we can't beat you, well, then we know we're not cut out for this."

Somehow, this made him sob harder.

I figured Mr. Grey would've been more enthusiastic about this. Well, as enthusiastic as a seemingly stoic individual like him can get.

"Sheldon, what is this?"

He gestured to the robot I had suspended above the worktable. It was small, blue, and had little three fingered claws for hands. I can't really make normal hands yet.

"It's a new robot," I replied, "It-"

"Is this a new threat?" he growled at the machine, "Coming into Paragon? What threat level is it?"

"No! No!" I waved my hands in front of his face, which was difficult because he towered over most people, "I built this! From pieces of machines you, Kip, and the others bring here!"

"What?" He didn't sound pleased.

"Meet Ryat66, one out of a series of eighty five so far that I've built. The eighty fifth is my first venture into a heavy model for more strenuous tasks..."

"Are you insane?" Randy roared at me, "You built this out of the parts of villain group robots!? You're building robots!?"

"I-"

"Don't you realise that's what villains do!? They make other things to do their dirty work for them! Is that what you're doing here!?"

"No! No, that isn't what this is at all!" Randy's an imposing man, but I had to hold firm to my guns, I knew that I was trying to help people, "I built them to help with the reconstruction effort, Mr. Grey. Honestly!"

"Reconstruction?" his voice softened, so that was a good sign, "Like what?"

"Well, for a field test, we took a set of Ryats to Boomtown... er... Baumton, and put them to work clearing debris..."

"We?"

"Well, myself, Matthew, and..." I stammered, "Uh, Snuffy..."

"My daughter."

"Yeah..."

"How many machines?"

"Up to 84. I didn't want to put Ryat 85 to work yet, a lot of its systems are still untested. Anyway, they were performing so well at their clearing, I decided to have them try to build some structures. Nothing I expected to stay, mind you, just some quick efficiency tests using available materials..."

"What happened?"

"We could never have expected the attack, sir," My voice cracked a little, "I lost nearly thirty Ryat class construction robots... The Clockwork apaprently didn't like them that much..."

"I'd believe so," Randy snorted, "I'd expect CK King and Big Babs don't like machines that have some of their parts inside of 'em."

"Quite right," I sighed, "Well, Matthew went down fighting. There were well over a hundred attacking us, and some of the Prince class Clockwork, too. Matthew gave Snuffy and me a chance to escape, but we were nearly surrounded."

"If my little girl got hurt, Wallace..."

"She's fine, sir! I was using my kinetics adjustment devices to help us speed away as fast as possible. However, the Clockwork were closing in around us, and the exit was almost beyond reach."

"How'd you get out of there? Red Cross Express?"

"No sir. As Snuffy, er... Sarah and I started to fight, and things were looking hopeless... She uses her latent psychic abilities, sir, it's not effective against those machines... We were surprised when Ryat 66 here started firing condensed blasts of energy at the nearest Clockwork to us. He also used his electrical system to short out any of the robots that got too close to him. Other Ryats were doing similar work, but at nowhere near the capability of 66."

Randall walked over to the robot hovering above the worktable. He gazed down at the inhibitors I had left strewn about, then looked back up at the machine. It was deactivated, so it couldn't know what was going on.

"He, and the other Ryats, saved our lives. Well, Matthew owes the hospital a fee for their work at resuscitating him, and I have to fix my other robots, but other than that, we're fine."

"Hm..." Randall stroked his beard, "Here's what I can say to ya. Longbow is not going to look favorably on this. I've been doing this hero thing for a sight longer than you have, Sheldon, and I have the clearance to show for it. So I can tell you with some confidence that most of the hero community will not appreciate these machines. In fact, they'll downright fear them. Rumor has it, the Nemesis started as a toy maker."

"I undrstand, sir."

He turned to me, and his normally gruff face suddenly looked warm and thoughtful.

"However, I can see you're trying to make something good here. I'll try and see if I can get you an audience with some of the local construction firms. They might appreciate your assistance, plus the added security your machines provide. So... What's with the inhibitors?"

"Oh..." I breathed a sigh of relief before continuing, "I'm thinking about getting Ryat 66 signed on as a hero. First off, he shorted out his power core with the stress of the battle. I had to entirely replace it with a Zenith Mech Man core. Also, he seemed to have a mentality, almost a mind. He actively sought to protect Sarah and me, and he struggled hard to do it. I think he'll take very well to heroing, but nobody starts at the top..."

"True," Randy rubbed his chin, "Alright, I'm convinced. You fix him up, make him a hero. However, I want you to promise me you'll take the really heavy duty weaponry out of the others."

"That's the funny thing, boss," I screwed up my face in consternation, because this next bit genuinely puzzled me, "The other Ryats, like I said before, couldn't fight as hard as 66. He was the only one able to fire bolts of condensed energy and reroute his power core electricity as a weapon. The others simply pummeled and dismantled any Clockwork they ran up against."

"Huh," Randall started heading for the exit portal, then turned back to me, "I just have one last question, Shel. Why Ryat? Why not Bob, or Steve, or something utilitarian like Constructor, or even symbolic like Cuchulain? Nobody's robbed the Celtic myths, yet."

"Well, nobody knows how to properly pronounce the Celtic names, boss," I shrugged, "Besides, Ryat was my grandfather's name. He passed away before I really got to know him, and I feel this is a good way to pay my respects."

"I see. Well, keep up the good work."

I turned to Ryat 66, hovering in the air silently.

"We will, boss, we will."

What follows are the catalogued adventures fo Grey's Army. Please enjoy, feedback is appreciated. Please use e-mail so as not to disrupt the story...

"Die, Grey!"

That's the best he can come up with before I'm being riddled with bullets. If it weren't for this rock stuff growing inside and around me, I'd probably be dead. Instead, the bullets bounce harmlessly, and I glare at this Council soldier who just emptied his magazine at a hero many times his superior.

"I'm in a good mood, chump," I growl at him, "So I'm going to give you a chance to run away. Drop your gun and get out of here."

He complies and I take his weapon. Maybe my tech man will be able to do something with it.

A couple miles down the road, my second-in-command, Kipland Durj, is putting the hurt on Crey's security forces. They seem to have jumped on the neighborhood and put the squeeze to it. Crey says they don't know of the actions of these employees, and that they could just as easily be Council or even Sky Raiders troops in disguise. I haven't seen Sky Raiders in so long... But the common people have, and they see them on a daily basis. Crey's claims of innocence play well on the ears fo normal people. It doesn't help that the company also has enough domestic projects that just provide cheap, everyday items for the public's use.

It's hard for me to remember that when I'm clearing Peregrine Island of Crey Snipers. They tell me that they thought I was a Zeus Titan they were trying to distract before I send them screaming over the ledge of the building. I meet them on the ground to finish the job. They've got a lot of peculiar systems in them, almost as if they're as cybernetic as the Freakshow, just not so obviously.

I groan as my communicator bleeps. Looking down, I see Sheldon Wallace, my tech man, has something new for me to check out. I admire Kip's performance for a little while longer, he just side-kicked an Enforcer off the side of a building. The metal-cased security soldier must've blacked out during his flight, his body just crumples when it hits the ground. A moment later, a police drone zips by and zaps him up because of the tag Kip left on him. Gotta love those things.

Hallo all. Randall Grey here. I don't know how many of you have met me or one of my alts before, but we go under the moniker Grey's Army, and I recently started a Super Group with the same name. My villains have their own projects going, projects I don't feel I'm directly responsible for. It's an odd form of compartmentalisation. Anybody who's played alongside me probably understands what I'm talking about (my behavior as one toon is not the same as with another toon)

In any case, my SG is fledgling at this point. I'm saving up Prestige from my alts (a friend with a free alt was kind enough to help with the recruiting) before I start constructing a base.

I hope to be discerning with this SG. I'd like to avoid the trappings of wholesale recruitment drives and try to build an SG out of an online community, players I'm familiar with and enjoy playing alongside.

Win or lose, I'm gonna keep this thing going for a few months to see how it goes.

Supergroup Name: Grey's Army
Website: N/A at the moment
Global Chat Channel: N/A
Leader or Recruiting officer: Randall Grey
Preferred method of contact: Play. I like to know the kinds of people I'm working with.
SG Description: See Above

I don't think I'll be using Recluse's victory very often. I mean, it's fun and all, but I rather hate dealing with Stalkers.
I have two abilities that enable me to see invisible things, but the Stalker Hide still outsmarts them both.
Honestly, that's crap.
That, and I can never seem to hit one of those runts while they keep stripping away my armor and Rooted.
Now granted, I understand that there's supposed to be a form of balance between heroes and villains, but what I just described is not balance.
Stone Tank vs. Stone Brute, that's balance. That's a decent fight to watch.
Stone Tank vs. any Stalker: picture a mosquito killing a rhinoceros.
Now granted, root for the underdog and all that jazz, but we're not talking underdogs here, we're talking characters that are fighting each other with roughly the same levels of power.
Why can't I hit the stalker?
It has pretty much the same strength armor as a brute by that time, but I can hit a stone brute just fine.

*SG Name: Iron Fists of Justice
*Website: None
*Global Chat Channel: None
*Leader or Recruiting Officers: Pyromus (Commander), Randall Grey (Second in Command)
*Preferred Method of Contact: Randall Grey (and various alts) prefers to recruit based on working experience with other players. This way, he avoids "One Week Warriors" and recruits more solid members. Most other members engage in mass recruiting drives which include "One Week Warriors" and even "One Day Warriors." Trying to refine this.
*Guild Description: Mostly a social SG that pools resources. We prefer our "younger" members to consistently play in SG mode until level 25 (as you don't have any penalties until then; the trainer warns you of the fact). We try to help each other out when asked and have a nice base set up to provide teleportation and healing for our members. Our current draw for our members is the workshop, which features the Storage Items and an Empowerment Station which enables us to have those nifty boosts when the mission's get tough.
We also run a Salvage buy-back program for members who can't get into the base so they have an incentive to help out still.
Still working out the nuances, and have hit a few rough patches, but we're going as strong as we can.