Nalrok_AthZim

... whoa, wait. What the hell?

I've teamed with him on about six different occasions with my 50 Ill/Kin Troller. He plays, you guessed it, Harry Dresden, a Grav/FF/Fire Mastery Controller. He's an absolute joy to team with, and is on my global friends list.

Whoops. Not sure how I skipped over that. Unfortunately Assault's bonus for Brute's is rather small.

But it's not. The Scrapper HP cap is lower than the Brute HP cap. When I say Brutes excel when it comes to HP cap numbers, that's correct.

Scrapper Base HP: 1338.6
Scrapper HP Cap: 2409.5

Brute Base HP: 1449.3
Brute HP Cap: 3212.7

Well I'm not a /Shield person anyway, so I'll concede here.
(Small side note: I don't consider Fury 'nerfed' but equalized between Tankers and Scrappers.)

Allow me to define "works just as well" in my view for you:

"Works just as well" means you're not going to feel significantly less purposeful playing a set on a Brute as you would with a Scrapper. Just because Scrappers will do more damage doesn't mean people won't enjoy it as Brutes, nor does it mean you're going to be sitting at the bottom of the totem pole when the numbers are finished rolling. You're still going to do a great deal of damage on a Brute as you are on a Scrapper. Do you opt out of playing anything but Energy/, Axe/, SS/, Stone or Mace/ Brutes just because you can use the same sets for more numbers on Scrappers? (I sincerely hope not.)

I spend a lot of my time repeating myself when it comes to people misunderstanding the numerical mechanics of the Brute AT. Sometimes I get a little testy. Sorry 'bout that, bud.

That's... what I said.

Never said they didn't.

*headdesk* Please read what I said. Read. What. I. Said. I am not talking about caps. I am not talking about caps. I am talking about modifiers. Value modifiers for resistances and defenses. Not caps. Modifiers. Not caps, but modifiers.

I remember at some point Bill Z posted up damage comparisons and IIRC Brutes and Scrappers were on a fairly level terrain with, as I said, Scrappers pulling ahead due to criticals and higher damage modifiers. I'm well aware that Scrappers put out more damage but they don't make Brute's look like crap. Besides, I'm not relying on "outside buffs."

I'm aware. I understand perfectly that Scrappers do more damage. I know this because they have a higher damage modifier! Sound like a broken record? I sure feel like I do, since I have to keep repeating things.

You're actually quoting their Damage Scale modifier. ParagonWiki and City of Data both list Tankers as having a .100 (or 1.0 for regular decimals) damage resistance modifier. You're actually quoting their Damage Scale modifier. Brutes and Scrappers have .75 as a modifier. Ever notice how Brute armor numbers are 75% of Tanker armor numbers? That's why, chief.

Give me a little more credit and actually read my posts before telling me I don't know what I'm talking about.

And that's why I posted this thread.

Back on topic as much as possible, I put this thing up to hopefully give myself a little more exposition to the current RP community of Virtue. As I mentioned earlier I'd be glad to lay out some of my major characters and hopefully find a place for them to be.

Anyone want to help?

I know that. That doesn't mean the modifiers are different. They both come in at .75.

Agreed; you'll be totally shredded by elemental attacks.

"I work my hands to the bone all day,
Hey... hey... yeah, hey.
I earn that money so the rent gets paid.
Hey... hey... yeah, hey.
But then came the change on that fateful day,
Hey... hey... yeah, hey.
They told me they could see it from a mile 'way.

And aw, they said the fire burned.
And aw, they said the wheel still turned.
And aw, they told me I was spurned.
And yeah, I took my name and ran."

Perfectly in time with the temp of his song, Remington "Remmy" Stein's hammer hit a nail protruding from the steel framework of the building he sat atop. When the nail was done, he moved right and placed a new one. The sun beat down on him even in the cool autumn breeze, and sweat stained his forehead, chest and underarms. He'd been doing this for six months now, and the people of Paragon City knew him not only as the construction worker with a stunning country-western voice, but as Match Point, the fiery hero that kept the people of Steel Canyon safe.

"Remmy! 'Ey man, c'mon down here, we need a patch-up and the welder's on lunch," the foreman called up to him.
Remmy looked down from his perch and attached a steel cable to his safety harness. "Man, that Jackson's never 'round when ya need his happy backside, is he? Y'all hold tight, I'll be down in a Texas minute." With the grace of a falling brick, he tossed himself over the side and repelled down to the ground. "Alright boys, where're ya needin' me?"
"Over here, Remmy. This plate cracked."
"Alright, hold it for me." Remmy took off his right glove and started to snap his fingers. "C'mon darlin'. Light up." With a sudden spark and a whoosh that sounded not unlike a torch being lit, his palm began to spurt an ice-blue flame. He crouched down and began running his hand over the crack in the aforementioned metal plate. Sparks flew around his hand like flies from a confined space, but not a single burn mark touched his skin. "You fellas see the Steel Canyon Steelclads last night? Lost to the damn Cowboys!"
"Yeah, no kiddin' Rem. I think maybe we need to put a super on that team just so they can pass the ball further than ten yards."
"Ooh-wee, I hear that! Tell you what, you guys put in a word to Coach Jenkins and I'll play for 'em," Remmy said as he finished the weld. "There y'are. Now don't go breakin' it again, last thing I need is--"

His words were cut short as a loud metal snap rang out just over his head. He looked up, and was hit in the face by a flattened 45 caliber bullet.
"Ow, gad-dangit."
"Don't move, meat," said a voice across the construction fence. "This is Outcast territory." A sizzling noise followed as the outspoken Outcast Lead Scorcher walked through the chain link, turning it to molten metal. "You worthless pukes have been building this junk-pile for years. Now, we're here to undo your handiwork." The few lackeys behind him raised a few submachine guns and automatic rifles.
"... y'all are yankin' me, right?" Remmy stepped forward and wiped the sweat from his brow. "We sit out here'n work our tired hind-ends off all dang day, and you come over here and mouth off like a bunch of top crop villains. Why don't you do me a favor, y'orange skinned git," he said as he started walking towards the leader. "Why don't you go ahead and mosey on outta here? You probably got s'more important bee-ess on yer hands, like puttin' cats in trees and pissin' in people's toilet tanks. N'fact, I'm sure I caught one of you jokers last week tryin' to draw on my boss' car--"
His sentence was cut short by a hail of gunfire.

The sound of small metal pellets hitting the ground followed shortly after.
"Y'all should know that's a mighty good way to get me mad," Remmy said, his right hand humming loudly with what sounded like stored kinetic energy. Another wave of gunfire, another clattering of pellets. But now the humming was louder. "Y'all are 'bout as sharp as baseballs. See, now I've got enough of this here k'netic energy to wallop one of you real good, and don't forget who I am."
"Who the hell are you," the leader roared, his hands igniting with searing fire. He found out shortly as Remmy's fist rammed into the poor sap's face and sent him flying across the street.
"Smart thugs know I'm Match Point. Dumb ones, well, they find out real quick."
The Outcasts turned to flee, and were stopped by a literal wall of fire.
"Hey, Mickey, bring me that jackhammer o'er there, I need to teach these gents a quick lesson in interruptin' my work site," Remmy called behind him with a grin. The remaining thugs didn't need to hear it twice, taking the risk and running through the wall of fire only to slam groins-first into a police vehicle at the nearby red light.
"You got some live ones, sheriff!" Remmy laughed, the fire subsiding as he turned back and started his climb back up to his perch. "Y'all throw that orange-skinned jackass wherever, if you find where his sorry hide landed."

He plopped himself back on his girder, and started singing again.

"I ain't a fan of playin' games,
Hey... hey... yeah, hey.
I never take chances all the same,
Hey... hey... yeah, hey.
I do what I can to make a name,
Hey... hey... yeah, hey.
But I'm here for work and not for fame.

And I said yeah, my fire lights the sky!
And I said yeah-heah, that ain't a lie!
And I said whoa, I don't choose my fights,
I say yeah, took my name and ran."

((Not my best writing... but I wanted to. Match Point, 27 Fire/Kin Controller.

His story is cut and dry. He worked for Kirk Cage and was a Scrapyarder for five years until his powers manifested in a mineshaft with a natural gas line and blew up 40 of his friends. Cage had him deported and Paragon took him in. He's currently trying to get the Paragon City government to take notice of Kirk Cage and the Consortium so they can possibly send aid.))

You can't do that... anywhere, really.

I have complaints about WoD RPers for the following reason.

Oh no, I don't mean you'll be shunned. I'm just saying, set yourself apart from the rest by showing you've got more moxy! Not a "you're lower so make better" thing, just a "Here's the rest but I'm the best!" confidence thing.

Exactly.

The way you avoid being lumped in with the rest of Virtue's crap-content catgirls is by proving yourself. Don't be a catgirl, be a girl who has cat bits. If that makes sense.

I'm originally from North Harris. Know where Tomball is? I was 30 minutes Southeast. Moved since then.

Oh no, I can't do that. All of my characters are male as I stink at playing women, so the closest they'll ever get is SG subortinate/superior, like my 'troller and Blaster. I know people that do that and... well, they're a lot better at multi-tasking than I am, I tell you what.

More open-zone RP would be good for the game; it'd also give this new influx of GR-purchase players a good idea of what Virtue's about!

I hear that a lot too. If a character is well-written enough, I'll work something out OOC with their player for the sake of not mucking up either of our reputations. I mean, a level 5 uppercutting a level 35 successfully would be passed around. It's best to reach a middle ground before going at it.

I'm not saying you should never ever go there. I'm saying that unless you're a DJ, active clubber, or a party animal you shouldn't park your character there for every RP event they have. Also avoid the catgirls.

Nice. By the way, I noticed you're from my hometown.

Some of them know each other because they are each other. My forum namesake is a 50 Dark/Dark/Soul Brute, and he has a continuation in the form of a 38 Demon/Dark MM. The only other characters of mine that know each other on a semi-personal level are my 50 Illu/Kin Controller and my 35 Sonic/NRG Blaster as they're in the same mutant-themed SG and my Ill/Kin is an officer/community representative.

Well, I can tell you right now that (for some bass-ackwards reason) Pocket D is a veritable Courtyard Commons for RP. Every RPer type will wind up there unless they make a conscious choice to avoid it. Military, gang, mafia, alien, hero, villain, comic, performer, you name it and you'll find it there. It's also a rather unfortunate place to be if you ask any veteran of the server; it's a hotbed of ERP grossness.

The other big place for a lot of RP cliques tends to be the SG/VG base. The biggest problem I had with my previous active VG (I won't name names publicly but I'm sure anyone on this forum knows them; they're notorious for godmoding and making life frustrating in general) was that they would do an AE arc and then sit in their base for hours on end, just standing around and presenting their characters into awkward situations for laughs. Sometimes they wouldn't do an arc, they'd just retire to the base for a "meeting" that only concerned about 10 people max and left the rest of the VG twiddling their thumbs and waiting to go actually do something. Not my cup of tea.

I tend to size up how text fights are going to go based on level and character appearance; my level 27 Dual Blades/Willpower roughneck named Streetrazor isn't about to give a Level 50 Super Strength/Shield guy named Ironsmash any business and want to talk about it later. Best example was some level 6 'incubus' running around Port Oakes blathering off RP, and ended up getting in my 50 Dark/Dark Brute's face. That ended swiftly.


I'll freaking do it. I'll buy us jackets!

Thank you. Thank all three of you! I can't stand just puttering around a VG/SG base unless we've just saved the world or at least stopped a building from being blown up and now we have to pinpoint our next go-to spot, or even better, have a Rogue/Vigilante moment. Stuff like that is sit-still appropriate. Allow me to elaborate and give some insight into my villain main.

My villain main is a demon overlord named Nalrok Ath'Zim. Visually, he's your basic big demon; horns, wings, plated leather, a few chains, spiked belt. Here, this should help.

Here are his level 50 Brute and level 38 MM incarnations, in order:


Now, personality-wise, he's not your stereotypical Demon Lord from The (Evil Place Name Here). He won't mock you, he won't laugh derisively as he sneers at you, and he most certainly won't (nor has he ever) uttered a sentence with the words "foolish" and "mortal" in it. The closest he's ever come to a remark of that nature was back when Solrac played; he called Solrac an 'impudent wretch.' Nalrok prefers to be polite and, rather than boast his strengths and accomplishments, he takes in what others have to say about themselves. He's more concerned with making strong allies and friends than running around and smashing apart the planet for his own amusement. Now, this doesn't mean he's not one evil son-of-a-b**ch. He'll kill anyone who tries to kill him and enjoy it. One of his favorite things is to plow his fist into his opponent's ribcage and rot them from the inside out with nether energies. He'll laugh, or chuckle, or even grin with excitement as he does it. Like any demon, he'll occasionally fly into an uncontrollable rage (Frenzy alignment power helps here) and won't stop tearing people's faces off until there's no one left but his allies.

(Hell, one time he actually ((with permission)) killed a character by picking them up by the shoulders and tearing them down the middle. Holy crap.)

*pant* Monologue complete on that one. My point, as I seem to have failed to make yet, is that my main villain isn't the type to sit in a black-stone throne and brood about how evil he is; he likes to meet evil people and considers every slaughter both a personal victory and a small vacation from reading his gargantuan library of tomes left by his bloodline.

Oh for the love of... No! XD

I suppose I should list specifics of what I used to do.

-I freeform RP. No rules, no WoD junk (those guys irritate me), no hit rolls, just flowing RP. Decisions on the fly. No governing body.
-I RP just about anything. I have such a wide variety of characters and each of their stories is different, with only a few knowing explicit information of one or two others.
-I'm all for open-zone RP. If you're gonna be a gamblin' man or bookie, why sit in the D? Go to St. Martial and spend some time sipping margaritas on a rooftop in Double Down while you write the papers for your 'family.' Military? Hang out in the troubled parts of Nerva or survey Grandville from it's outlying islands. (Be more creative, is the bullet point you should take away from this presentation)
-Don't freaking godmode. I know your character can shoot lightning from their eyes, mine can light people on fire with his breath! Equal opportunity fights and decisions.