This was my very first mission.  I was still a novice in the order and had never fired my bolter in anger before.  I can imagine how I must have looked then, too thin neck sticking out of my power armor, trembling as I watched each gibbering soldier cut down, reciting my prayers with a stammering voice as Sister Superior Halquin led us in benediction against the foul creatures we were about to face.  I think I might have pissed myself, I’m not completely sure.

We’d been briefed by Inquisitor Argus Fane, may the Emperor keep his soul, on what we faced upon this blighted world.  Apparently the Mechanicus had been running a research facility here and performed some heresy or other in one of their experiments.  Within a week the facility had gone rogue, corrupted by the warp energies they had released, and within a month there was a full-blown daemon incursion on the world.  To this day I don’t know why Fane didn’t simply call exterminatus on the world and whatever reasons he had for mounting this assault died with him on Ulric.  He’d called upon every resource he could muster to attack Ulric, and they were considerable.  Three companies of Imperial Guard, the fourth and first companies of the Harbingers Astartes chapter and our own Cleansing Fire commandery landed on Ulric, and directly into hell.

When the drop-ship touched down fully half of the Imperial Guard with us had already fallen, and those that remained were doing little more than fleeing the wrath of their commissar when they left the drop-ship and hit the front lines.  My sisters and I were the one of the last units to leave the drop ship, having loaded into our rhino, we followed in the wake of the Imperial Guard chimeras and the hundreds of ground troops that had set out to secure the landing zone.  They’d failed.  There were beasts on the ground that the guard, simply men with lasguns, were not prepared to face.  When we heard the fighting Sister Halquin mounted the rhino’s storm bolter and called me up to support her.  I am not too modest to say that, even at that age, I was a remarkable shot.

I took my own storm bolter and climbed into the open top hatch next to Halquin and I got my first glimpse of what a daemonworld was.  The sky was a sickly pink, devoid of clouds, but full of shimmering warplight that hurt my mind to look at.  All of the ground was blood red and terrible, with great rifts that spewed green fire into the sky.  The guard were being slaughtered around us in droves by what I assumed were servitors.  Great inhuman beasts with mechanical limbs and heavy weaponry were massacring the men.  I watched as a twisted mechanical form turned a heavy bolter onto the commissar I had seen before, and the man was reduced to a cloud of bloody mist before my very eyes.  I took aim and sent a burst of bolter shells into the beast, but the impacted harmlessly against its mechanical parts, and it spun on our rhino.  Heavy bolter rounds ricocheted off of the transport’s heavy armor, and Halquin joined me in pouring fire into the monstrosity until it fell, the life pummeled out of it from our combined fire.

More of these battle servitors came marching across the blasted plains at us, and for each one we managed to bring down, more appeared.  When my storm bolter ran dry, I called down for another weapon, and someone handed me a meltagun.  I have never been comfortable with meltaguns, and I would have preferred a bolter, but the rhino was moving too fast for anything but inaccurate blasts at close range.  I  braced myself against the open hatch and took careful aim, firing the weapon at each servitor as they got close, reducing them to molten piles of slag.  It was an effective weapon, no doubt, but each time I fired the weapon it burned my retinas, leaving blinding after images swimming in my vision, and the heat from the shots seared my lungs, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Still the rhino traveled on.  We were to make a beachhead a kilometer North of our landing zone so that the guard coming in behind us could set up their basilisks and other artillery to support our push towards the mechanicus facility.  In truth, I have no idea how we made it to the line.  By the time we reached the location we were supposed to hold, the Rhino was pitted with impact shells and was lurching along at half of its normal speed.  A rocket had clipped the transport in the rear and jammed the tracks, resulting in a terrible grinding as our driver forced the machine to push on anyway.  The rhino’s storm bolter was empty, and I was on the third and last reload for the meltagun when Halquin pounded on the armor of the rhino and called for a stop.  I climbed down from the hatch and returned the meltagun to Marise, the sister it had been originally assigned to.  She wore a re-breather mask and tinted helmet that I hadn’t had the luxury to be given.

After taking my storm bolter once more, the back hatch of the rhino opened, and my sisters and I poured out amidst a rain of bolter shells and lasblasts.  I used the rhino as cover and leaned around the back side, firing a stream of bolt shells into yet another servitor, this one armed with a pain of buzzing chainfists.  It took three concentrated bursts to bring the machine to its knees, and even then it continued to crawl towards us until Marise finished it off the meltagun.  We were faring better than anyone else around us.  The guard were getting cut down all around us, and one chimera went up in flames as a shot from a lascannon punched through its armor and hit its ammunition stores.  I leaned out to take a shot at a small, fast-moving thing that was all legs and blades when I got hit by a stream of fire from a heavy bolter.  The impact rolled me over, pitching me onto my back and sending me bouncing across the broken landscape like a discarded doll.  My armor miraculously protected me, and none of the shells punched through, but I lost my storm bolter somewhere and came to my feet disoriented and confused.  All I could hear were explosions and gunfire.

Dazed, I tried to regain my bearings, only to be pitched to the ground once more.  The thing with the blades had found me, moving impossibly fast, dodging the fire of my sisters, coming to pounce upon the wounded prey.  I saw it raised three of its blades, and shouted, bringing my arm up just in time to avoid having my face torn into.  My ceramite gauntlet  deflected one of the blades, and another bounced harmlessly off of the armor, but the third slipped by and slashed across the side of my head.  The warm, wet feeling that ran down the side of my face and neck, seeping into my armor let me know that I’d lost my left ear.

With a shout of pain and a burst of adrenalin I managed to shove the thing off of me, and it fell away onto its back a meter away.  I scrambled to my feet, searching for my lost weapon, but it was gone, lost somewhere in the chaos.  I called to my sisters, but they didn’t hear me, they were busy exchanging fire with something else that I couldn’t see, blocked by the bulk of the rhino.  I had been knocked a dozen meters back by the heavy bolter, and I couldn’t each them.  A shriek warned me just in time that the machine had recovered, and I threw myself to the ground blindly.  It sailed over me, landing on the cracked ground as nimbly as an acrobat, and I got my first look at it.  A half-dozen human legs surrounded a mechanical center piece that had a dozen or more scything, needle-like blades suspended over it in small, articulating arms.  Whoever had built such a thing was far gone from the light of the Emperor.

It leapt at me again, and I lashed out with my leg, catching the thing in mid-flight.  The augmented strength the power armor gave me sent the servitor sprawling once more, but it rose again, uninjured and undeterred.  Without a weapon I was going to quickly lose this fight.  If I could dodge it again I could run back towards my sisters and shout a warning.  A single bolt from any of them would end this abomination instantly.  So I prepared myself to dive out-of-the-way of its next pounce, and as it charged I ducked, only to be knocked flat onto my face as the thing darted between my legs, flicking its blades out and cutting into the joints of my armor.  The pain was unexpected, and I cried out as my boots filled with blood.  Hamstrung, I couldn’t rise again, and could only roll onto my back to meet my death head on.

The creature wasted no time, but instead leapt forward again, and I watched as it turned in mid-air, bringing all of its terrible weapons to bear on my unarmored face, then a blast of light so bright it shook my brain inside of my skull took the thing out of mid-air.  It writhed in midair, lightning arcing from its metal parts while its blades flailed wildly, cutting its legs away in a storm of blood and oily fluids.  It collapsed on the ground, twitching ineffectually.

At the time, I thought that the Emperor himself had protected me, and to this day I sometimes wonder if that wasn’t exactly what had happened.  A figure appeared in my vision, garbed in shimmering gold power armor and wielding a hammer almost as large as he was.  He extended a hand down to me, and I took it in awe.  As he pulled me to my feet I saw the Inquisitorial Rosette encased on plastisteel on the front of his armor.  “Come,” he said, and his voice booms with that heavy baritone in my memories still.  “The Emperor requires too much of you for you to die today.”

That was how I met Inquisitor Argus Fane, Martyr of Ulric.

So ends the first passage of the Personal Record of Palatine Regina Winterfield concerning the fate of Inquisitor Isimbard Kane.

Desperation was originally conceived as a risk dice pool. Systems like this allow players to overcome obstacles that their dice pool otherwise wouldn’t allow, or would make very risky. For example, if your character was a bad fighter, only having 2 dice for a melee attack, and you were faced with an enemy that was going to kill you if it got a chance to swing. So you need to kill it, and now, but your dice pool is not up to the task. A risk dice pool would give you the chance to get extra dice for that kill, while possibly risking something important to your character. In some systems you might simply discard a number of these ‘extra’ dice, in others you might risk your sanity or purity. In Forais Chronicle, you will risk what makes you nerdy, your obsession.

My friend Travis gave me an idea the other day to fill in the empty levels from day 20. So now I have put it all together. Let me give a quick attempt.

Desperation: When a nerd has to do the impossible, has to overcome all odds, he has to tap into the pool of obsessive knowledge that sustains his rank among nerd-kind, his/her Obsession. A nerd hero may use a Desperation roll to add additional dice equal to its Obsession attribute to a roll that has not yet been rolled. These additional dice are treated as part of the roll, and success on these dice are like any other success.

A character only has so many Desperation rolls available in each play session. At levels 2, 5, and 8, a character gains an additional Desperation roll beyond their initial 1. As Nerds grow in power and prestige, they can tap into their obsessions more often to protect the realm or overcome challenges.

There is a downside to Desperation rolls, as a character risks losing their obsession by abusing it in this way. When a character makes a desperation roll, whether that roll succeeds or fails, the player makes an Obsession roll. For each of these dice that is a hit, their Obsession is temporarily lowered by 1. If the Desperation roll was a success, but there are still hits on the Obsession roll, the character gains a Jerk Trait determined by the GM and 1 point of their Obsession loss is permanent.

I don’t know how I want Obsession degeneration to heal, I’m thinking it will require some out-of-combat ceremony. The risk to Obsession will have to be constant though, to counter-balance this powerful mechanic. Considering a Nerd will likely start with 4 obsession, a level 1 character has a chance to pull out 4 extra dice one a play session. That is very powerful.

This whole thing only took up 221 more words. Maybe the 5k of Crunch will be harder to reach than I thought. I think this system will be interesting though, giving a chance for characters to ‘pull it out’ in a pinch. It also leads to ‘heroic’ moments, even in Tier 1 play. A character can take down the giant ogre, or defeat the leader of the enemy army, all while risking a central part of their character.

On To Combat

More specifically, I want to look a little at equipment. Usually in an RPG system, a character needs to carry equipment around, and their equipment will constantly get better as they kill bigger things and take its trash. Thankfully, most fantasy monsters have a bad habit of swallowing the greatest treasures in the land, or hiding awesome relics among their dung. This leads to heroes with large kill counts and very stinky equipment.

For Forais I want to slow the flow of stinky gear by making some things inherent to the characters. In short, I think that unless a character is using a piece of equipment that is amazing, they should just assume they have it. This has limits of course, I am mostly talking about basic armor, a basic ranged weapon (a shortbow), and a basic melee weapon (a spear or sword). What this means is that from the start, every hero is capable of melee or ranged combat at will. This requires a bit of balancing to explain why most people wouldn’t just sit back and throw ranged weapons at each other until everything is dead.

For one, there will be a ‘charge’ mechanic. A charge allows characters to close the distance and get enemies in melee, gaining a bonus to the attack they charge with. In this way, ranged focused characters still need to fear enemies coming into melee against them. Also, a character in an enemy engagement zone cannot make ranged attacks, making it a good strategy to get in the face of characters whose Fight is focused into their ranged attacks. On the other hand, a ranged attack can be made from a distance, has little fear of immediate retaliation, and allows for more options for approach or retreat. The player who keeps these even will have a lot of choices in battle.

There may also be Traits and Tactics that manipulate either the Melee or Ranged attack of characters, or guards better against Melee or Ranged attacks.

So what will actual Equipment do? Well it will take the place of a player’s Unit, even in Mass Combat. This is because it will be Legendary Equipment, items that carry blessed abilities that give their owner an advantage. Maybe this is simply the Logic Shield of a Mathlete, giving him resistance to enemy abilities, or maybe it is the Deus Unix Machina of a Techee, a suit of power armor crafted by the IT teacher. Either way, these Legendary Equipment will need to be powerful to replace the growing power of a Unit, which can level like a character and also has its own abilities.

Just a couple of bros praising the Emperor

We will see, another day. Thanks for reading everybody, please give this post a like if you liked it, or leave a comment if you have anything to say.

Ron Paul may be the greatest American since the days of real men and our Founding Fathers. There isn’t much the guy says that a real patriot cannot disagree with. In fact, at the moment, I cannot think of anything. He wants real freedom and strives to expose tyranny on a daily basis. He is the spiritual advisor and leader to those of us who want to end the tyrannical Federal Reserve. He helped contribute to the mass awakening of the people in this country and he is the best candidate we have for president as far as I am concerned. Granted, Gary Johnson and Herman Cain are a very close second.

Via TheSwash.com

Calling education the cornerstone of economic growth, Perry proclaimed “You don’t get anywhere in this world without a strong educational background behind you.  Take for example the Japanese fellas who designed the ‘Honor Perry Tekka Gold Prelude Battle Death Suit.’  I don’t know what that name’s supposed to mean, but it’s not their fault they don’t speak good English.  They make good machines, and it’s ‘cause they got a good education when they were younger.”

Momentarily leaving the subject of his power armor, the governor returned to his economic plan.

“A country has to be flexible and ready for anything, and that’s why I propose creating two new separate Congressional panels, of equal power, able to adjust interest rates completely independent of each other, based on whatever criteria they wish.”

Perry paused for a moment before continuing with a sly grin.  “I got the idea from my Tekka suit’s two different automated targeting programs: the… Murasune… or no, that’s not it – the Muramasa Targeting System, and the, uh, Masamune Targeting System.  These Systems will do all the targeting work for me if I turn them on.  I just gotta pull the trigger.  Except the Japanese folks told me never to use, I think it was the Muramasa System… well, it was one of them, as it would drive me insane, and leave me unable to distinguish friend from foe.”

“But enough about that, anyways, those two Congressional panels, just like the Mura…sune, and uh, Masa… mura Systems – one of them would have to be made up of insane people.  Checks and balances – that’s what makes our system great.”

Despite being several inches taller than usual and significantly bulkier, Perry denied he was currently wearing the power armor underneath his clothing.  “Naw,” said the Governor, “That thing’s still in the conceptual stage.”

“I am, as of this moment, totally defenseless,” he continued with a slight chuckle.  “So uh, anyone wanted to come after me, now’d be the time to try.”  The governor then went silent for several moments, scanning the area around him, before a slightly disappointed look crossed his face.  “Huh.  No one?  Hm.  Dammit.”

- also seen on freewoodpost.com

It can extend your reach and shoot water bottles.

Source:
http://walyou.com/skeletonics-robot-shield/

Paul may have lost the primary in 2008 but 2012 may be different. He hasn’t announced that he will be running yet, but one can only hope and pray that he does. I don’t generally pray but for Ron Paul, I would. Ron Paul’s story is an interesting one and one that I feel is worth sharing, because even with the huge support he has from real American patriots, many don’t know the man, the myth or the legend.

Ronald Ernest Paul was born on August 20^th 1935 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to warriors Howard and Margaret Paul. As a child he had to grow up fast, as his father taught him warrior skills in an effort to prepare him for what would be a future filled with epic combat, strong leadership and survival.

During his breaks from his father’s intense training, young Ron would sit with his mother and engage in other types of skill building exercises. Margaret Paul focused on training and preparing Ron’s mind. She taught him extensively in every subject that she could jam into their time spent together. Ron, as a young teen, could easily conquer any Rhodes Scholar academia could throw at him. To this day, many Rhodes Scholars, like Rachel Maddow, carry a strong disdain for Ron Paul, as he destroyed the greatest members of their elite program.

Ron Paul’s physical mastery benefitted him well when he attended Dormont High School in Pittsburgh. As a member of the track team, he became the state champion of the 220-yard dash. His physical skills combined with the power of his mind, made it very easy for him to get into Gettysburg College, where he graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in biology. He followed that up by conquering the Duke University School of Medicine: walking away with an M.D. During this time he married Carol Wells, whom he would later have five children with.

In the 1960’s, Dr. Paul joined the United States Air Force and became a flight surgeon. It was during this time that he discovered a massive conspiracy that he would vow to expose and destroy. The conspiracy that he uncovered surrounded the Federal Reserve, or just simply, the Fed.

During his time in the USAF, Dr. Paul was assigned to a secret project where he would be a flight surgeon for astronauts returning from a secret mission. He was unsure about where these men were coming from, as space exploration was seemingly new in the eyes of the public and as far as anyone knew, we had never been to the Moon.

While attending to the astronauts, Dr. Paul began to put together some of the pieces to the puzzle, as astronauts like to talk and brag about their adventures. Dr. Paul concluded that these men had returned from a secret mission on the Moon. His theory became a harsh reality when the last astronaut he checked over, seemingly drunk from an all-night bender, arrogantly gloated about how he had been to the Moon and witnessed the birth of great monsters. This astronaut wasn’t even an astronaut; his name was William McChesney Martin, Jr. For those who don’t know, Martin was the Chairman of the Federal Reserve from 1951-1970. Accidentally, Martin left behind classified documents, which Dr. Paul took and read. The documents were labeled “The Lunar Dragon Project”. In those documents, Dr. Paul discovered that the U.S. government had cloned and grown dinosaurs on the Moon.

Within 24 hours, Dr. Paul was arrested, as the government realized that the documents went missing and backtracked them to Paul’s office. In an effort to silence him forever, Ron Paul was sent to the Moon in a capsule.

Once there, the locked capsule was taken by crane to the center of a huge lush jungle in what looked like a massive bio-dome. The capsule door released and Dr. Paul was alone, surrounded by thick foliage. Not knowing much about his strange surroundings, he decided to walk and look for a way out. As he trekked across the dense jungle, he came across giant footprints in the mud. He then realized that the government did truly clone dinosaurs and that he wasn’t alone.

Not long after that, Dr. Paul heard sounds coming from the bushes around him. The strange noises sounded like weird birds but the breaking sticks under their feet told him that they were something much larger than a typical bird. The stealth creatures tracked him for a good hour or so before Dr. Paul heard the bushes brush aside behind him. He quickly turned and was pounced on by a velociraptor. Two other raptors came running out of the bushes as well and Dr. Paul knew that if he didn’t act fast, that he would not survive the encounter.

Dr. Paul grabbed a sharp broken branch next to him and quickly stabbed the raptor that had him pinned. The sharp stick went into to raptor’s chest. As it reared back in pain, Dr. Paul freed his legs and with both feet, stomped the stick another two feet into the raptor’s chest. The dinosaur, in agonizing pain, thrashed around violently, causing the other two to back off and reanalyze their attack. The lead raptor fell dead as Ron Paul got to his feet and stared the other two down.

One of the raptors lunged at Dr. Paul but he quickly jumped behind the carcass of the dead dino. The attacking raptor snapped its jaws, barely missing Dr. Paul but chomping into the arm of his dead brother. The bite ripped the dead raptor’s claw off from the wrist and Dr. Paul seized that opportunity: grabbing the claw. Before either raptor could strike again, Dr. Paul ripped a hanging vine from a branch overhead and quickly used it to strap the severed raptor claw to his own hand.

Dr. Paul then pounced on the closest raptor and clawed its throat out. It gargled and gasped for air but quickly fell: dead. The last raptor circled Dr. Paul angrily, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce him. It then slashed with its tail, knocking Dr. Paul headfirst into the mud. The raptor went airborne but Dr. Paul rolled out of the way as it landed in the mud. Dr. Paul then slashed with his makeshift claw at the raptor’s ankle, slicing its Achilles tendon. The raptor cried out in pain as Dr. Paul jumped to his feet and uppercut the beast’s head clean off. Exhausted, Dr. Paul collapsed and rested but not for too long.

After a few hours of walking, Ron Paul came to a shed. Inside he found body armor, crossbows, knives and explosives. He quickly loaded up. As he was exiting the shed, he saw a map that had the layout of the massive complex. He discovered an exit point and the landing platform. He figured that if he could make it there alive, there might be a craft that could get him back to Earth. The exit wasn’t that far away, so Dr. Paul decided to run for it.

Within five minutes of leaving the shed, Dr. Paul was swarmed by seven more velociraptors. He used knives, swords, arrows, a few handguns and his skills. The raptors were no match for a fully armed Dr. Ron Paul. Waves kept coming and waves kept dying. Within a few more hours, Dr. Paul had made it to the boundary of the jungle and found the exit door.

As he was trying to reroute power to the door and hack the system, he heard a thunderous noise behind him, which shook the very ground he was standing on. Dr. Paul turned and found himself face-to-face with a Tyrannosaurs Rex.

Without hesitation, Dr. Paul pulled back and socked the T-Rex right in the jaw. The monster didn’t even flinch and he chomped at Dr. Paul. Moving out of the way, Dr. Paul dodged the attack. The force of the T-Rex sent its head threw the door. The T-Rex panicked, as its head was stuck. Dr. Paul tied a piece of dynamite to a knife and lit it. He then lodged the knife into the T-Rex’s neck and took cover. The dynamite exploded and the T-Rex roared and fell limp. Dr. Paul drew his sword and cut a man-sized hole into the side of the T-Rex’s neck. He crawled in and then exited the creature’s mouth, into the corridor that led to the landing pad.

Dr. Paul didn’t find a spacecraft on the landing pad but he did find experimental power armor with jet boots that he surmised could get him back to Earth. Dr. Paul put on the armor and left the Moon. The path back to Earth was treacherous, as genetically enhanced space pterodactyls continually proved to be tough foes. In the end though, they all fell to Dr. Paul and his power armor.

Back on Earth, Dr. Paul decided to stay quiet about what he really knew and decided that he would have to destroy the Federal Reserve through legislation. The government agents that kidnapped him never messed with him again, as he agreed to not fully expose them for the safety of his family. However, after further research, Dr. Paul discovered that the Fed had created the dinosaurs to attack Earth if ever they were exposed. In 1972, Dr. Paul secretly conspired with the Grey Aliens and had the secret Moon base destroyed.  The Federal Reserve was furious, as their dino army was no more. Rumor has it though, that a few space pterodactyls survived and still roam the cosmos.

As the years passed, Dr. Paul became a congressman for Texas and raised his children. He spoke out about tyranny and was very vocal about the evil Federal Reserve. In 1987, President Ronald Reagan appointed Alan Greenspan as Chairman of the Federal Reserve. He would prove to be a great rival for Dr. Paul but after nearly two decades of bitter debates and failure to convince Dr. Paul and his followers that the Federal Reserve was a power for good, Greenspan stepped down: defeated.

In 2006, President George W. Bush appointed Ben Bernanke as Chairman of the Federal Reserve. Bernanke is still Chairman today, even though he is even more unconvincing than Alan Greenspan. Bernanke isn’t as intelligent as Greenspan or a worthy challenger for Dr. Paul but those weaknesses are balanced out by his pure evil.

Today, Dr. Ron Paul continues his fight against the Federal Reserve. Finally, congress seems to be waking up as they just promoted Dr. Paul to the position of Chairman of the Domestic Monetary Policy Subcommittee. Dr. Paul has said that he will audit the Federal Reserve, which is the greatest news ever.

Ron Paul may also run for president again in 2012. He ran in 2008 and set the political world on fire, as he challenged the very fabric of every candidate’s campaign: exposing the tyranny, the bullshit and opening American eyes in the process. Paul also ran for president in 1988 under the banner of the Libertarian Party, the greatest political party in the history of the world. Paul is now officially a Republican but his libertarian ways have stuck with him nonetheless.

It is a dark day in America but Dr. Paul and now his son, the other Dr. Paul, are helping to lead the masses towards the light at the end of the political tunnel. If the beast of tyranny rears its ugly head, Dr. Paul will lob it off with grace and ease.

What the fuck kinda' 'roids is Superman on in is picture?...

Let me just start this review off by making it clear that I’m not all that familiar with Brian Azzarello’s writing.

My brother has told me (on numerous occasions) that I’d probably enjoy 100 Bullets, but to date I have yet to crack open an issue.

My only firsthand experience I have in reading Azzarello’s work, was his and artist Lee Bermejo’s more recent graphic novel, Joker.

I was deeply impressed with Joker.

From a visual standpoint, Bermejo’s painting and pencils served to give the story a striking, cohesive, and altogether unique look that in many ways make it one of the handsomest comics on the stands.

More importantly though, the writing was strong throughout.

The dialogue was sharp, with all the various character’s “voices” and diction coming across in the text boxes as if they were being read aloud by the cast members themselves.

The one aspect of the storytelling that really made it all work though, was the decision to cast an associate of the Joker’s, Johnny Frost; as both the narrator and main character.

Writing from the Joker’s perspective is one of those things that requires an insanely talented writer, either that or it’s just plain impossible.

The character is simply too impulsive, crazy, and altogether unpredictable, to the point in which reading his thoughts would probably as difficult a struggle as the process of writing them.

By using Johnny Frost as our ambassador into the Joker’s world however, Azzarello effectively gave us a ground level look at the seedier denizens of Gotham city; all while avoiding any of the confusion that may have resulted from trying to get inside their heads.

For Luthor however, Azzarello; once again teamed with Bermejo, chose to cast Lex Luthor as both the narrator and central character.

In case you haven’t figured it out already, this didn’t settle with me.

Lex Luthor is not really one of my favorite characters in the DC universe.

Most of the Superman stories I’ve enjoyed over the years barely included Luthor, and for the most part I think of him as a character that is doomed to be portrayed in the same fashion over and over and over again.

The Joker lends writers a degree of flexibility that makes him an intriguing figure to explore.

Sometimes he’s batshit crazy, sometimes he’s surprisingly lucid, sometimes he kills people with fish.

He’s a playground of insanity that writers are free to play around in and add to on a whim.

Lex Luthor however, is kind of one note.

He hates Superman, he’s rich as fuck, he has an ego, and occasionally he has goofy homoerotic moments with Supes that most of us would probably prefer to forget.

Outside of a brief stint as a red-head with an Australian accent, the only real difference between Luthors that I’ve read, is that sometimes he wears power armor, and sometimes he wears a power tie.

The version we get in Azzarello’s Luthor, is of course of the power tie variety.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

On the contrary, I prefer power tie Luthor.

What I don’t particularly like about the Luthor featured in, uh, Luthor; is the fact that despite the whole story being presented through his thoughts, he never really develops a clear voice.

Luthor’s voice in Luthor is written using vocabulary and pacing that is meant to appeal to the reader as being provocative and “deep.”

Sadly, as I made it through the first few chapters of Luthor, I became disenchanted with Luthor’s supposedly “heady” ruminations.

While I won’t post any spoilers here, the basic plot of Luthor involves Lex Luthor enacting a plot to eclipse the fame of, and potentially deface the heroism of the alien being known as Superman.

Using a variety of seedy connections, and equally seedy methods, Luthor establishes his own brand new defender of Metropolis, a super-woman named Hope, making a media darling of her in the process.

Long story short, Hope stands as a living metaphor for Lex Luthor’s aspirations, Superman fights Batman (briefly), and Lex Luthor whines and schemes for 90% of the book.

Luthor isn’t a bad story, nor is the writing anything less than average; my main issue with the whole thing is the fact that the center of the plot, our vehicle by which we explore the entire universe Azzarello has created for his story, is just not all that interesting to read.

Far be it from me to demand outstandingly cerebral writing and plotlines from my comic books, but I found Luthor’s voice to be more tedious than “deep.”

Tedious, and redundant, most likely due to the story’s original publication as a series of issues as opposed to a graphic novel format.

It’s funny though, most of the dialogue and storytelling outside of the stuff coming directly from Luthor’s brain and mouth is pretty solid.

In particular, Azzarello’s playboy-to-the-extreme version of Bruce Wayne is fun to read, and wholly believable given the way he is presented to us.

Much like Batman in Azzarello’s more recent Joker graphic novel, Superman and Clark Kent have almost no physical presence in the story.

In both stories, the characters are spoken of, hinted at, but rarely seen; giving them a sense omniscience and menace uncommon to both characters.

While the story is told from Luthor’s perspective, and it indeed makes sense to do so, I found myself smirking at the sight of Lee Bermejo’s flame-eyed and uber-pissed Superman.

Go ahead and call it blasphemy, but I’m one of those guys that still thinks of Christopher Reeve whenever he pictures Superman.

Seeing Superman portrayed as a total beast of superhero is both a striking visual, and a unique perspective on the character, but personally; I just couldn’t take it as seriously as I did in the case of Batman in Joker.

You look up badass in the dictionary, and I’m sure you’ll find an image of Lee Bermejo’s rendering of Batman from Joker.

Speaking of Lee Bermejo, his art is just as fantastic, if not moreso than was the case in Joker.

Bearing a borderline photorealistic style, Bermejo’s greatest panels are the ones that are painted.

In the case of both books, Bermejo painted a large number of the panels, however the ratio seems to be somewhat higher in Luthor, most likely a result of it’s gradual release schedule as opposed to the “all-at-once” format of Joker.

While I favor the creativity in the design, and the darker color palette of Joker, Bermejo’s renderings of the towering skyscrapers of Metropolis, and it’s delightfully fashionable citizens are still some of the best comic art around.

Additional kudos to colorist Dave Stewart, as some of the weather phenomena and night scenes really stand out thanks to his work.

While his angles and panel layouts may not be the most intricate or unique, Bermejo’s character art is his strength, and Azzarello wisely keeps his story grounded so as to allow his artist to shine.

Anyway, I really don’t know where I’m going with this review anymore.

Like I said, Luthor is a pretty enjoyable story, particularly if you happen to like Lex Luthor as a character; (I don’t…) but bear in mind there are some pretty heavy-handed (and redundant) metaphors, as well as some instances of “big words for the sake of big words” that you’ll have to get past to find said enjoyment.

Thanks for reading, hopefully you’ll try before you buy unlike I did!

Power Armor isn’t widespread until you reach a certain point in the Brotherhood of Steel sidequest.  All of a sudden NCR soldiers will be seen wearing Power Armor.  No training is required to wear their armor and their armor provides no benefits.  It’s kind of pointless.

These two short paragraphs are to help you realize one thing.  Armor scales to the world around you.  If you put off the main quest until you are level 20-something,  the cool looking NCR Ranger Combat Armor won’t appear.  If you never deal with the Brotherhood, Power Armor won’t be seen.

The other annoying issue with armor involves faction reputation.  Putting on the uniform of a faction negates your standing.  Everyone will be neutral towards you except for named NPCs that can see through your disguise.  That alone makes wearing some armor (like the cool NCR Ranger Combat Armor) pointless.  Your reputation drives how the world reacts to you.  You worked hard for it.  You should reap the rewards.  If NCR loves you, they should still love you when in their uniforms.  It just doesn’t happen that way.

JB

Compared to the days years ago at least the sun was not entirely engulfed by the ash clouds. Most of the time the day would stay sunny and behold the dusty, dirty and destroyed environment of the wastes. Sun or not one thing was for certain: The morning sun brought new hope, and anyone able to bask in its short seconds of splendor always remembered how it looked as it rose from the horizon.

It was the early morning, around 5 o’ clock. Guide sat on the roof of his disheveled home as he watched the sun disappear beneath the ash clouds. He ensured that the exoskeletal power armor underneath his brown, dusty trench coat was secured, checking the wires and cables, running diagnostics through his Pip Boy and flexing his limbs so the thick, metallic reinforcements following them were well-oiled. The husky Russian’s head was obscured by a helmet, which in a way became his face since he barely took it off, and he made sure the filters were cleaned and he could see through the wide-eyed lenses.

He gazed over the town, relishing in the silence as a soft but slightly dusty wind blew through the wastes. It was a medium-sized town that was fortified and surrounded by metal plates. The houses looked disheveled inside and out but they kept the people safe enough, which was more than anyone could ask for. A year had passed since Guide and his comrades arrived here and vanquished the slavers attacking it; they could have left the town after that but plans changed and they stayed to help protect it, even making it into the town it was today. Supposedly they were just getting old, but lo and behold science and medicine and all that to keep them on their feet as if they were still twenty so perhaps they just cared too much.

The gate made from reinforced scrap metal was open as always. The guards monitoring it were fast asleep, slumped behind the mini-guns in their seats. Impulsively Guide checked his lever-action rifle and ensured his revolver was loaded and then settled down. The last time the guards fell asleep they stayed asleep; in the wastes you can never be too careful with the multitude of dangers surrounding you. Thankfully the one known as the Lone Wanderer blessed the land with blood and lead and stifled the dangers a bit but there were still many things to be worried about.

Soon the townsfolk would awake to start their days. Fellerman’s Crossing was a trading post that helped ease the burdens of the wastes by shipping out purified water and other supplies to neighboring areas. Things were brightening up since the Lone Wanderer purified the waters of the capital wasteland and many were able to drink fresh water, some for the first time in their lives. Even though the ash clouds above obscured the rays of sunshine from showering over the decrepit landscape Guide could feel a surge of optimism going through him as he watched some of the townsfolk slowly come out of their houses.

Most of the townsfolk were equipped with armor and weapons and sauntered over to the edge of town where caravans full of supplies were waiting to be moved. The two sleeping guards were replaced and they dragged their feet into their houses to pass out while the two new ones sat down and manned the mini-guns. Guide’s attention was drawn below him as the appointed mayor of the town exited the house in Enclave power armor.

Margaret straightened her hair out and checked her equipment. There was a symbol of a sparrow on her right shoulder pad which was painted in white, resembling the one painted in black on the back of Guide’s trench coat. The sniper rifle on Margaret’s back looked to be in pristine condition, shined and thoroughly maintained to prevent any setbacks. As she glanced up to Guide her dirty-blonde hair wavered while her wrinkled face curled into a smile.

“Morning,” the elderly British woman said tenderly. Guide looked to her for a moment and then responded in Russian.

“Good morning.” Margaret smiled again and ran a diagnostics check on her Pip Boy as she walked to the group crowding around the caravan wagons. From above Guide could see the other Sparrows organizing the group and placing them into smaller groups to begin the caravan escorts.

Edmund was the primary caravan organizer and he was directing everyone to get into groups of four. Like Margaret, Edmund wore power armor and bore the symbol of the Black Sparrows on his right shoulder pad but his was in red instead. He too was British and his blonde hair was long and dangled over the tip of his back. The women liked him for his charismatic appearance but old age was getting to him and they only thought of him as that nice grandpa next door who gave children candy. Somehow though, that never deterred Edmund and he found company every day in Flynn’s pub.

Speaking of that Yankee Flynn was nowhere to be seen among the crowd of gatherers. Guide looked to his house and spotted him sitting beside the door, fidgeting with his Pip Boy. That Pip Boy of his never seemed to work but he was adamant to try and fix it himself. Guide let out a small sigh and hopped off the roof, landing with a slightly metallic thud and then made his way toward Flynn.

Unlike the power armor of the other Black Sparrows Flynn’s was decorated with dozens of small pockets that held many throwing knives and a harness which several frag grenades dangled. His past experience with guns did not end well and it was settled with the other Sparrows that he would be better off throwing things at his enemies instead of shooting. He stroked his slick black hair back and groaned as he continued to mess the Pip Boy up a bit more.

Guide spoke his first word in Russian and then resumed in English. “Friend, you should let me take a look at it.” Flynn looked up and then moved to a stand, chuckling.

“Bastard,” he said, the wrinkles on his face crumpling into a grin. “Told you I’m not gonna let you look at it.” Guide shook his head and took out a screw driver from a pocket underneath his trench coat. Flynn grunted in disapproval as Guide began looking over the Pip Boy, his hands swiftly adjusting the screws and wires of the disheveled computer.

“I keep telling you,” Guide uttered as he began piecing the Pip Boy back together, ” you try to repair this and it will fall apart before you even turn a screw.”

“I’ll break it so hard it’ll fix it,” Flynn replied with a smile. Guide gently pressed his thumb onto the Pip Boy’s screen and it clicked securely. He pushed the power button and it sprang to life with the mascot �coming on before the diagnostics check began.

“The rest are waiting.” Guide pocketed the screwdriver and looked over towards the group. “Best of luck to you, friend.” Flynn patted Guide on the shoulder and walked over. Once Hallister saw Flynn she began scolding him. That was expected, seeing as Flynn always arrived late for the morning caravan briefing, broken Pip Boy or not.

Hallister’s power armor had a variety of pouches on it which held medical equipment and other surgical tools for on the go. As the town doctor it was her duty to ensure the welfare of all the people living in Fellerman’s Crossing and possibly aid outsiders should they be seeking medical assistance. Her fading red hair was tried into a tail that dangled just above her shoulders and the pump shotgun on her warned anyone that messing with her may warrant a forced surgery. Like Flynn her sparrow was colored in green.

After she was done scolding Flynn she glanced up and waved to Guide. He waved back and watched as the two began assisting Edmund and Margaret with briefing the guards for their daily supply escorts. A door sounded near Guide and he turned to see Pavel buckling his armor down and checking his Pip Boy.

There were many prot�g�s but this one was Guide’s. A year ago Pavel and several other young raiders attempted to rob Guide and the other Black Sparrows with weapons that were in disrepair. Obviously they failed but instead of killing them outright Guide believed it was better to take them in and help them learn about a different way to survive the wastes other than pillaging and murder. Since then they have been cooperative and have learned many things, dedicating themselves to the welfare of the Crossing and the people living in it.

Specifically Pavel is being tutored by Guide about repair and about any science worth its salt in this destroyed wasteland. Like Guide Pavel is a native-born Russian but with black hair and eyes. Wandering about in the wastes tanned his skin a bit so others could be deceived in believing he was a native to elsewhere � that is, if they even recall anything out of the destroyed land they live in. Because of Pavel’s scrawny build he is not strong enough to wield anything heavy-duty, and because of that Guide issued him two pistols, which he currently has holstered over his pants. The skinny Russian noticed the husky Russian and walked over to him.

Guide began the conversation in their native tongue. “Good morning, little one. Did you sleep well?”

Pavel nodded. “The others fell asleep later than me but I do not know when.” Guide shook his head. Flynn thinks a good ass-kicking will get them hitting the hay sooner but Guide thinks forcing them to taste the fruits of their pleasure will suffice.

“I see,” Guide said simply. “Did you try to warn them?”

Again, Pavel nodded. “They did not listen, but Rebecca went to sleep before I did. I think she is almost finished preparing.” Guide smiled but did not look to Pavel, keeping his concealed eyes toward the house of the young ones. He knew they liked each other but they could never get a word in edgewise; perhaps today he would give a little nudge to Pavel just to help smoothen things. As he watched the door slowly opened and a young woman slinked her way out of the house.

Rebecca came out and gently closed the door behind her. Like Pavel she was young, only 17 years of age but three years younger than Pavel. After her father sacrificed himself to save the Black Sparrows and her mother died giving birth she was alone in this terrible world. Fortunately, two of the younger Black Sparrows � Amanda and Hawke � decided to adopt her and have been taking care of her since.

Rebecca takes on more of her mother’s side, bearing blonde hair with green eyes along with a modest personality. Her features are more similar to her father’s however and there is an air of no-nonsense with her expression. Her comrades know she takes more of her mother’s side when it comes to decisions but her appearance is what causes others to not take her lightly, even if her intentions are sincere.

She secured her armored vest and tightened her belt. Like Pavel, Rebecca slept early and looked ready to roll. The teachings of her parents did not go unheeded and her personality helped reinforce those teachings, keeping herself disciplined and reliable to the townspeople to do her fair share of work. She walked toward Guide and Pavel and nodded to the elder Russian with her medical equipment and .32 revolver in tow.

“Good morning, Guide,” she said meekly. Guide nodded. Pavel nodded awkwardly to her and began speaking in English.

“Good morning, Rebecca,” he said, slightly stumbling. She smiled to him and looked away. The three went into silence but Pavel kept looking to Guide for some sort of clue. However, he was looking straight away as if watching the group afar, unaware of the two and their situation; but when Guide nudged Pavel with his elbow Pavel cleared his throat and looked to Rebecca.

“Rebecca,” he said, still stumbling a bit. “Would you like to join us for guard duty?” It was a rather odd request but Rebecca was genuinely interested.� She nodded, Pavel smiled, Guide grinned, and then the three made their way up Guide’s rooftop to watch over the town.

The morning briefing finally concluded and the group began preparing the caravans for transport. The wagons were made from ruined cars found in the wasteland and severed in half, allowing them be mounted with harnesses and strapped to brahmin to haul. The two-headed cows were being strapped to the wagon harnesses as the rest of the caravan guards positioned themselves around the wagons. Each wagon had five guards total, including a Sparrow for each wagon. The townsfolk could take care of themselves when it came mutated wildlife but the Sparrows were there just in case a raider band or mutant stragglers decided to try and mess with them.

Meanwhile those that were not on caravan duty scattered throughout the town and manned their defensive positions. Some went on the rooftops while others settled below, sitting on makeshift benches or simply walking around and chatting in their weapons and armor. There was not much to be afraid of; they were all armored well enough but it was knowing that at least one Black Sparrow was present that eased their fears and helped them relax. To some degree every Sparrow was military-trained; if the rest of the town was out of commission it would probably only take one Sparrow to deal with a whole raider band… probably.

Truth be told a Sparrow never flew alone. Each one always had another somewhere in the area to assist so there was never one Sparrow ever alone. While the caravans were another case when it came to the Crossing’s protection there was usually Guide, Flynn or Margaret around coupled by Amanda and Hawke, who always stayed at the crossing to defend. The prot�g�s were more or less around as well so the town rarely had any difficult situations to deal with.

Today was newbie day however. Those that never protected a caravan were addressed and ordered to one. As the wagons exited the town some of the newer guards looked worried or scared, which was expected. Fortunately not all of the guards were new, some looking confident as they walked out of the town, and the newer guards felt a little at ease as they began their journey to deliver the supplies. This was a test to provide the inexperienced with experience; caravans always had enemies to contend with and today would be no different. All the townsfolk knew the basics of weaponry but aiding a caravan escort would put that knowledge to use.

Most of those who already assisted in a caravan escort were put to guard duty, and this also included all of the prot�g�s. Excluding Pavel and Rebecca they were all sleeping however so the town was off by five guards. The reason why it was important to get up early was because, well, you would miss breakfast.

Guide, Pavel and Rebecca began their feast of purified water, cave fungus and some fruits salvaged from a vault. All the food encompassed within the Crossing was like this but it was better than nothing for days. It was also fortunate that the food was purified so no one had to worry about radiation poisoning. Amazing what one can rummage up in order to make a food purifier.

As they ate, Amanda and Hawke climbed up the ladder of their house, which was a few feet beyond the road from Guide’s house. They noticed the three eating and called out for them.

“Hey Guide!” Hawke yelled out, catching the Russian’s attention. Guide’s mouth was full of cave fungus so he simply waved in return. Hawke chuckled as he opened the breakfast container, revealing fruits and iguana meat with several bottles of purified water.

Jonathan Hawke explored the wastes before he met up with the Black Sparrows. After a few years he became romantically involved with Amanda and the two have been together ever since. Amanda used to belong with the NCR before she faked her death and went with the Sparrows eastward. The two have their expertise, Amanda helping Hallister with medical procedures and Hawke exploring the wastes for any areas worth salvaging while doubling as the town�s equipment merchant. The two also work well as parents and without them Rebecca probably would not be as disciplined as she is right now.

Hawke’s once brown hair and beard are now streaked with grey due to old age catching onto him. He is a slightly big man with a slightly big belly but knows how to keep himself in shape. His head is covered with a bandana and sun glasses to cover his brown eyes while his body is covered in a turtleneck shirt with an armored vest over it and jeans. Amanda is also showing her age, her curly orange hair crumpling and graying. She dons an identical armored vest coupled with a sweater and a pair of jeans. Unlike Hawke her glasses are for seeing and the crow’s feet surrounding them provide her orange eyes with a look of wisdom.

Today was a good day to dine. They filled up to their heart�s content and then put away the breakfast containers. As with protocol for all guards they kept their weapons close but casually chatted with one another. Most of the conversation was brought on by everyone other than Guide seeing as the Russian barely spoke a word anyways.

An hour passed and since Margaret was tending to one of the caravans Hawke took the initiative to turn on the radio, allowing all to hear Three-Dog yapping away in his usual, upbeat tone.

�Another day in the fine Wasteland, children!� Three-Dog cried out joyfully. �Bit dark out there but ain�t no show of sunshine gonna stop the good fight! Those wanderin� around the beautifully-purified waters have our Vault Boy to thank so make sure you give a shout-out for our boy in blue!� He howled again and everyone in the town cheered and clapped as they made a toast with their purified water. Guide tightened the filtration system back onto his helmet and cleared his throat, making sure the voice module was functioning as well.

�Also,� Three-Dog began again in a more serious tone, �you kids watch out in the meantime; those Enclave jerks are running around since our boy in blue decided to bust up some asses in their little cave. We�ll keep you guys posted while the Vault Dweller beats them down again.� Some laughter, some cussing, it was evident no one enjoyed the company of the Enclave. The Sparrows personally knew how their operations went and witnessed first-hand of the atrocities they committed. It only seemed natural that they were willing to shoot any of them on sight.

It was rather ironic as well seeing as they managed to acquire some power armor from the western Enclave group. No one blamed them though since the power armor still worked and was better than any armor out there. In the Wasteland it would be stupid to be so picky; then again, Guide made his abomination of a suit between NCR ranger armor and power armor but he was a skilled repairman, so only someone of his skills would be able to craft such a unique piece of armor anyways.

�Guide?� Rebecca asked, looking to the Russian with curious, bright eyes. �Why does your armor look different than the others?�

Guide did not look directly at her, keeping his focus on the surrounding areas of the town. �It is a symbol,� he simply said, now looking directly at her. �Perhaps I will enlighten you later.� He stared back to the horizon and watched as menacing shadows appeared over yonder. One by one the guards on the roofs looked toward them as well and realized the shadows were heavily armed.

Today, Moira had me go test a kind of “repellent” she had developed to ward off mole rats. I hate those ugly, stupid little creatures, so if there’s any chance to see less of them I’ll take it. With that in mind, I happily went to the Tepid Sewers. I encountered a mole rat almost as soon as I entered, and gave it a good whack with the repellent stick Moira had given me. The effect was… interesting. It seems that mole rats experience fatal allergic reactions when exposed to the “repellent”. Violent reactions. As in, their fucking heads explode. I had to wash my armor for an hour in the irradiated river Potomac afterwards to get the blood and brains out.

After testing the “repellent” extensively (and having a minor run-in with some raiders) I exited the sewers and heard laser discharges somewhere close by. I ran off towards it to investigate and saw… well, afterwards I found out it was a man, but at first I thought it was some kind of robot. He was wearing this weird armor made entirely out of metal, with glowing red eyes and some kind of “horns” on his helmet… after he saw me, he immediately started shooting at me without a word! Of course, I had to shoot back and it was a tough fight, even though he had obviously been injured by something or someone prior to my approach. After he was dead, I got a closer look at his armor.

It was torn and cracked in places, but obviously very well made. It seems to be some kind of “powered armor”, if you can believe that, with motors and such assisting the wearer’s movements. It was obviously very tough, because the only wound I could see on the man after I had stripped him of his armor was the lucky shot through his eye that had killed him. I also noticed some kind of emblem on his chest, but it had been deformed by a bullet impact so I couldn’t see what it was. After looting the poor man, I went back to Megaton and stashed the armor in a locker in my house. Hopefully I’ll be able to repair and use it someday, but I’d likely need special training for that. In any case, I got a laser rifle in decent condition so it’s not all bad… even though I’ll need to find some more microfusion cells for it.

Anyway, that’s all. Hopefully I won’t run into any more of these guys.

Sincerely,

Todd

Serpent Armor has been adapted as an adventurers armor, with the blinding movement used in many get-always. UMR would rather this unit not get on the open market, due to that very problem in the Gala Dyna system with brigands and pirates.

UMR Special forces on Rifts Earth, created the Aspe Division, the armor is dark green, with a brownish underbelly. The Special forces are used as hit-and-run jungle forces. Usually attacking then fleeing with out anyone noticing they were even there. The armor is sometimes given out under special assignment.

Model Type: MSZ-001

Class: Mechanized Optional Serpent Upgrade Power Armor

Crew: One Pilot

MDC by Location:

Shoulders (2) – 200 each

*Head – 70

Arms (4) – 100 each

Serpent Lower body – 450 each

** Main Body – 600

*Note: Removal of the head will result in 50% chance of each appendage stopping from working

**Note: Destroying the main body will shut down the bot and cause a self destruct to destroy everything within the bot’s casing.

Speed

Slithering: 55 mph

Leaping: The armor can leap up to 60 feet plus 10 feet per 10 mph slithering

Blinding Strike: Bot can move extremely fast in short bursts top speed is 155 mph with one hour duration, after an hour, pilot becomes fatigued as if sprinting.

Flying: N/A

Statistical Data

Height: 25 feet

Width: 13.5 feet

Length: 30 feet

Weight: 9 tons

Physical Strength: Equal to a PS of 58

Cargo: N/A

Power System: Magic 6 months

Black Market Price: Not available on the Black Market

Weapon Systems

1. Tail Pincer (1): Houses in the tail of the GP03a is a power vibro weapon. A large spike protrudes from the end of the tail, and when used, discharges a burst of electricity. Giving new meaning to the lightning strike of the Serpent.Primary Purpose: DefenseSecondary Purpose: AssaultMega Damage: 10D6 per tri-blast

   Rate of Fire: Equal to Pilots Hand to hand

   Payload: Unlimited! Link to technobattery.

2. Shoulder Mounted Missile Launchers (2): Located in the oversized shoulders of this monolith are two medium range missile launchers. Used primarily to counter the slower movement of the armor, and to defend against airstrike.Primary Purpose: DefenseSecondary Purpose: AssaultRange:as missile

   Mega Damage: as missile

   Rate of Fire: Volleys of 4, 6, 7, or all

   Payload: 14 medium range missiles

3. Hand to Hand Combat: Rather than use a weapon the pilot may choose to engage in Hand to Hand Combat.Restrained Punch – 1D4 MDFull Strength Punch – 1D6 MDPower Punch – 3D6 MD

   Crush Tear (with tail) or Pry – 3D6 MD

   Kick – 2D8 MD

   Head Butt – 2D4 MD

   Tackle – 1D6 MD

4. Optional: The robot can hold and hand held weapon.

Sensory Note: The robot has full optics of UMR.

The armor found its way to Rifts Earth with a need to explore Pre-Rifts Florida… in hopes of finding hidden technology or even allies against the evil Coalition.

Model Type: GP-02

Class: One Man Infantry Soldier Unit

Crew: One Pilot

MDC by Location:

Shoulders (left) – 100

Shoulders (right) – 180

Right Plasma Ejector – 200

* Left Arm Shield – 600

Arms (2) – 100 each

Legs (2) – 290 each

** Head – 50

*** Main Body – 600

* Note: The shield on the left arm protects the robot from attacks. Each shot made at the main body have a 1 in 2 chance of hitting the shield

** Note: Removal of the head will result in s 50% chance of each appendage stopping from working

*** Note: Destroying the main body will explode the store of mini missles in the chest. This explosion causes 4D8x10 MD to a 10′ area.

Speed

Running: 55 mph

Leaping: The armor can leap upto 50 feet plus 10 feet per 10 mph running

Flying: N/A

Statistical Data

Height: 17 feet

Width: 9 feet

Length: 8 feet

Weight: 2.2 tons

Physical Strength: Equal to a PS of 50

Cargo: N/A

Power System: Magic 6 months

Black Market Price: Not available on the Black Market (Would be priced at about 9 million)

Weapon Systems

1. Plasma Ejector (1): This weapon utilizes the same technology as the UMR-DR but is a larger version built expressly for the mounting on the GP-02.Primary Purpose: AssaultSecondary Purpose: DefenseMega Damage: 4D6x10

   Rate of Fire: Equal to Pilots Hand to hand

   Range: 2200 feet

   Payload: Unlimited! Link to technobattery.

2. Missle Launchers (3):Built into the chest of the GP02 unit are three identical mini-missile launchers meant to help the bot with close range combatPrimary Purpose: DefenseSecondary Purpose: AssaultRange: as per missile

   Damage: as per missile

   Rate of Fire: Volleys of 2 or 3

   Payload: 15 Long Range Missile (5 in each launcher)

3. Raptor Rifle (1): A optional rifle that can be issued with the armor. It utilizes the spells of Agony and Energy Disruption.Primary Purpose: Anti OrganicSecondary Purpose: Anti HumanoidsRange: 50 feet for Agony, and 60 feet for Energy Disruption

   Payload: Unlimited! Link to technobattery

4. Hand to Hand Combat: Rather than use a weapon the pilot may choose to engage in Hand to Hand Combat.Restrained Punch – 1D4 MDFull Strength Punch – 1D6 MDPower Punch – 3D6 MD

   Crush Tear or Pry – 2D6 MD

   Kick – 2D8 MD

   Head Butt – 1D4 MD

   Tackle – 1D6 MD

5. Note: Mounted on the knees of the GP02 are spot lights. Range 1500 feet. Also there is a light probe launcher in the chest for launching light probes for spotting (like a very bright flare) utilizes the spell ‘Globe of Daylight’.
6. Optional: The robot can hold and hand held weapon.

Sensory Note: The robot has full optics of UMR.

Utilizing magic response systems to monitor and control the movement of the unit, the armor functions as a second skin to the user. Adding more advanced systems, the unit also added sensory units – however only for those trained in MSZ Combat, which can help add bonus that the novice wouldn’t even know how to use.

This armor is used throughout the Republic. There isn’t a colony that doesn’t utilize this versatile unit. Although colors and modifications vary from area to area – the base unit is available everywhere.

by Robert Markus Velkym

Model Type: MSZ-001

Class: Mechinized Synthetic Zoid Infantry Soldier Unit

Crew: One Pilot

MDC by Location:

Shoulders (2) – 100 each

*Head – 50

Arms (2) – 100 each

Legs (2) – 250 each

** Main Body – 500

*Note: Removal of the head will result in s 50% chance of each appendage stopping from working

**Note: Destroying the main body will shut down the bot and cause a self destruct to destroy everything within the bot’s casing.

Speed

Running: 75 mph

Leaping: The armor can leap upto 100 feet plus 10 feet per 10 mph running

Flying: N/A

Statistical Data

Height: 15 feet

Width: 7.5 feet

Length: 6 feet

Weight: 2 tons

Physical Strength: Equal to a PS of 50

Cargo: N/A

Power System: Magic 6 months

Black Market Price: 8 million (full loaded) available in Blue , Red, and Cammo – add 2 million for Disruption Cannon

Weapon Systems

1. Chest Tri-Blaster (2): Located in the chest cavity of the robot is a tri laser. The chest housing folds up to reveal the weapon.Primary Purpose: DefenseSecondary Purpose: Assault

   Mega Damage: 4D6x3 per tri-blast

   Rate of Fire: Equal to Pilots Hand to hand

   Payload: Unlimited! Link to technobattery.

2. Raptor Rifle (1): A rifle issued with the armor. It utilizes the spells of Agony and Energy Disruption. Primary Purpose: Anti OrganicSecondary Purpose: Anti HumanoidsRange: 50 feet for Agony, and 60 feet for Energy Disruption

   Payload: Unlimited! Link to technobattery

3. Hand to Hand Combat: Rather than use a weapon the pilot may choose to engage in Hand to Hand Combat.Restrained Punch – 1D4 MDFull Strength Punch – 1D6 MD

   Power Punch – 3D6 MD

   Crush Tear or Pry – 2D6 MD

   Kick – 2D8 MD

   Head Butt – 1D4 MD

   Tackle – 1D6 MD

4. Optional: the hand of the robot can be replaced with a disruption cannon (see picture) which causes Energy Disruption for 600 feet plus 2D6 MD
5. Optional: The robot can hold and hand held weapon.

Sensory Note: The robot has full optics of UMR.

Suddenly, he burst out of the jungle into the ruins of a city. Somehow in two hundred years the trees and the vines had not retaken most of it, but all of the buildings were vacant and collapsing, the windows staring like empty, lidless eyes upon the dusty, broken roads. The soldier ran past the remnant of a long-rusted out tram on the side of the road and long-abandoned husks of cars with fauna growing up through their insides and out the windows. He noticed that even the once-great buildings of the city that had attracted tourists many years before were almost unrecognizable after man had surrendered their ownership to time and they had been further marred by the cruel beatings of the weather.

The soldier’s head jolted to the left and to the right each time he passed an alley, doorway, or intersection, apparently looking for both anything inside the buildings and a good place to get off of the road. Shortly after crossing the second intersection, he turned into a two-story building, the insides of which had been gutted. He charged up the stairs and slammed the only remaining door in the place behind him. He searched the room for anything to block the door with or to hide behind, found nothing, and turned to head out and on to another building.

Then he heard it: footsteps, running on the road outside. They were too close. He would have to make his stand in the house. He moved back around a lone pillar in the middle of the room and took aim at the door, checking his ammo to make sure his clip was still good.

The soldier heard the footsteps move from the road to the downstairs room, slowing as they did. His pursuers halted, then moved carefully up to the stairs. They reached the second stair. Then the third. They worked their way all the way up to the last stair. The door slowly started to open as one of them pushed against it. Then…

So the regulars here should already know Iron Man was on my “Must See” list for April/May. If you missed that post you can read it by clicking here.

Like most of the movies I am super excited to see I went to see it opening night. Well kinda, I went to the midnight showing on Friday (so it was technically Saturday morning). Even though it was so late the anticipation kept me awake. I think my body was so pumped with adrenalin I could have fueled a car…that is if cars used adrenalin lol. I was surprised that there were so many people in the theater so late at night. I think now that I am a parent I just assumed everyone else in the world was like me, which means everyone would usually be in bed by 10 most nights.

Now that I have this blog I am always paying close attention to the movie trailers to see if there are any good up and coming movies that I have missed hearing about. This time there was not BUT I did get to see another Indy trailer and a trailer for The Incredible Hulk (both of which were cool). I was a bit disappointed because I had heard rumors that The X-FIles: I Want to Believe trailer would be premiered with Iron Man and it was not.

For those of you who do not know what the movie is about please refer to the link embedded at the top for the movie’s info.

I was so pleased with the movie! The action was superb, the special effects were “the bomb”, the music was phenomenal, and the storyline was good too. I think the true fans of the comic would be pleased with the adaptation. I also think non comic book fans will enjoy this movie too!

*If you go see this movie make sure you stay until all the credits are over because there is an additional *teaser* scene!

I give this movie 5 stars and I will be adding it to my blu-ray collection when it comes out!

   Secondarily, the Legend of the Five Rings game will be tomorrow (friday) as usual.

   There may be a few more items up early this morning. Recovering the old useful exotics file took a lot longer than I thought it would.

   And for an additional item, here’s a collection of New Skills and Talents for the old Marvel Super Heroes game and its modern variants.

On a tangential note, check out this video of a Timberjack walking logging machine (1st video below). Apparently, it can go at a much more decent clip than the somewhat sloth-like pace below… Maybe they didn’t want to scare people. I can see this being much more usable at this point than the somewhat feeble two-legged Landwalker (2nd vid). I could see it effectively moving over the rubble of cities, much as it handled the uneven forest terrain. Who knows what the military has of this type of vehicle at this point. The powered suit was only visible cause DARPA put out a large-scale competition for who could make the best prototyped.

What I think I like most about all this is that people are really making their dreams come true, bringing images from the collective imagination into reality. If anything is going to get humanity out of the messes that it is currently in, its this capacity to realize our dreams. (the dream-realization, not the mechs, cool as they are).

Also see Carl Owens, a young alaska man who built his own mecha. With eyes. And flamethrowers. I think he had to register it with the local sheriff, just in case. And I don’t know if it can walk. But I think that he’s kinda cute.