Mission 7: Aren't you a little fat to be a stormtrooper?

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> After a good night's rest, the Company rises early the next morning (the better to get the drop on their competition, as per Delilah's tip). The temperature is comfortably above freezing in the morning, but a thick fog hangs over Pendleton, obscuring even the buildings across the street from the team's office. Well, at least no one'll observe them as they drive off to the north in search of their bounty? (more)
<El-Cideon> Not that any sane person is up at this hour, anyway. The sun hasn't risen yet when Targo and friends gather in the office to prepare for the mission.
<Targo> "I've gone over the deal already. We're hunting one Magnus Cyrano for a clean 20,000, and soon, the rest of the world will be, too. So we've got today to get a head start and clean up," states Targo. "We know he's connected with the group we ran into the last time we trekked out and about the mountains, so I'm thinking we'll be heading that way again."
* Forrest makes coffee for everyone to give them a good start on the day. "So, any ideas about findin' this Magnus feller?" he asks, scratching at his stubbly chin.
<Forrest> "Makes sense," Forrest nods. "Might be a clue we missed or he might even have went there after we were finished."
<Targo> "That's what I thought. I don't think he'll have stuck around after what happened, but it's a decent place to begin. I'll see if I can talk to the local cops, too."
<El-Cideon> So the team clambers into the truck and heads north. Pendleton is a ghost town as they cruise through the mist-laden streets, and the only traffic on the highway consists of truckers hauling machines and material between Pendleton and Pike. After an uneventful hour's drive broken only occasionally by Forrest's attempts to put on country music, the team pulls into the town of Melville. (more)
<El-Cideon> The police station is sedate at this hour. Probably a few locals stewing in the drunk tank and not much more going on. A sleepy officer at the front desk eyes the Company and their armaments and seems to quickly accept them as being hunters (of some sort). "Can I help you boys?" he asks, grudgingly sitting to attention.
<Forrest> "Reckon course," Forrest tips his hat to the man in a friendly gesture. "Targo here's got the skinny on what we're after," he then gestures to the party face.
* Targo had his mouth open to say something, clamps it shut, and then opens it again. "Yes. I understand you're wanting to see a Mr. Cyrano be brought to justice?"
<El-Cideon> "Huh. Be obliged if someone got rid of him for us, yeah. Funny, I didn't think they'd put the word out yet..." He shrugs. "Yeah, him and his damned 'Orangemen' have become a massive pain in our collective ass lately. Basic banditry glossed over as some kind of hare-brained independence movement. Lot o' nonsense, but they're organized and numerous. Jaded miners falling off the cart got nothing better to do, I guess."
<Targo> "Do you have any leads?"
<El-Cideon> He gestures to a window which faces north, looking out on the forests and mountains. "Out there, somewheres. Us local boys aren't really set up to take on an outfit like this. Usually all you get in Melville is the occasional hunting accident or drunken brawl to sort out." He looks you over again. "You guys are from some mercenary outfit, I take it. Guess I'll be seeing a lot of you types soon."
<Targo> Targo shrugs. "I'm hoping you don't need to see more than us," he replies, turning to leave.
<El-Cideon> He nods. "You find the bastard, bring him by! I'll radio the boys in Pike to come pick him up and get you your reward."
<Forrest> "Look forward to it," Forrest nods amiably before he likewise departs.
<El-Cideon> The sun rises as the Company leaves Melville. The drive through the outskirts is uneventful, but the farther one gets from the town the more the local dwellings look to have been hastily secured against intrusion. Plenty of new-looking, heavy front doors, the occasional boarded-up window, and no one's leaving anything that could be hauled away out in their yard or driveway. (more)
<El-Cideon> Some houses look recently abandoned. Presumably Magnus and his goons have been doing a number on the town's livelihood by scaring away the hunters and skiers. (more)
<El-Cideon> Eventually the road peters out, the woods encroach, and the team has no choice but to get out and walk. Nothing, human or animal, crosses their path as they trek north to the bandits' hut, stopping at the familiar ridge where they had a firefight while escorting Greenblum.
<Targo> "Check to see if there's anything out there," states Targo, crouching slightly and adopting a more cautious stance.
<Wilhelmina> "Orangemen," Wilhelmina says with a snort. "We have a moral obligation to put them out of their misery."
* Forrest takes out the sensor dish (he remembered it, this time!) and sets it up behind the cover of the ridge to see what he can see.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+18 perception
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+18 perception and gets 27."12 [1d20=9]
<Forrest> roll 1d20+18 perception reroll
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+18 perception reroll and gets 24."12 [1d20=6]
* Forrest packs the dish up. "Looks clear," he reports. "Reckon nobody's home."
<Targo> OOC: Is it snowy?
<El-Cideon> OOC: Yes. There are no recent tracks.
<Targo> Targo heads towards the building, pushing the door open and checking to see if it's any different than when they left it.
* Forrest ambles after Targo, seeming quite relaxed since the dish gave the all clear.
<El-Cideon> The corpses have been removed, for starters. The slain bandits' comrades look to have dropped by and cleared the place of anything usual sometime after the Company's previous visit. All the food's been cleared out, but the fragged radio is still on the table in the basement.
<El-Cideon> *useful, not usual. >.<
<Targo> "They may still be in the forest, and this might not be their only hideout. Wil, do you think it may be possible to tap into their communications?
<Forrest> "Well, looks like this is a bust," Forrest opines, stowing away his rifle and tossing the cabin to thoroughly search it for anything that the bandits missed while clearing out.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+13
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+13 and gets 28."12 [1d20=15]
<Wilhelmina> "Their communications are really a radio set to a certain frequency. Shouldn't be too difficult," Wilhemina muses, giving the wrecked equipment another glance.
<El-Cideon> The device can be repaired with some work. At they very least, Wil would be able to determine what frequency they were using.
<Wilhelmina> "Well, want to give this a try?" she asks.
<Targo> "Yes. I don't particularly want to search for them the hard way," agrees Targo. "An operation better suited to around fifty instead of three, really."
<Forrest> "Might as well. I've got nothing," Forrest agrees after his search turns up empty.
* Wilhelmina gets to work, setting out her tools by the radio.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Mechanics check if you want to fix it, +5 for the tool kit.
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+19
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+19 and gets 31."12 [1d20=12]
<El-Cideon> A few minutes work sees the device in operation once again. Some of the displays are still dead, and those scorchmarks are never gonna come off, but it can be used. The frequency last used was 714.1789. If so desired, the team can connect to it via the radio or even their own com devices (assuming the channel isn't encrypted).
* Targo leaves the technical details up to their resident expert.
<Wilhelmina> Is the radio even remotely portable?
<El-Cideon> It's a pretty sizable device that probably once served multiple communications functions. Someone carrying it through the forest would be hard-pressed to deal with anything else.
<Wilhelmina> "We might as well take it with us, just in case," Wilhelmina says, admiring the fixed device. "We wouldn't really want someone else to get it."
<Forrest> "So does it work? Can we listen in on them with it?" Forrest asks.
<Targo> "With all the junk we've already got..." replies Targo, dourly. "Why don't we turn it on first?"
* Wilhelmina turns the radio on in receiving move.
<El-Cideon> The crackle of static as the device picks up the signal, and then...nothing. For a moment, at least. Straining your ears, you can just make out the sound of...snoring? Someone or something *is* at the other end, at least, and apparently the channel's not encrypted.
<Wilhelmina> "Well. We are dealing with idiots, after all," Wilhelmina says. "Let's set a com to that frequency, split up in two groups, and try to find this embarrassment to humanity."
<Targo> "It seems that great minds are behind this latent rebellion," remarks Targo, producing a commlink and setting it to that frequency.
<El-Cideon> This isn't hard to attempt. Walking a little ways into the woods is enough distance to get data for triangulation. (OOC: Basic INT to calculate this. Let us see how Targo handles high school math!)
<El-Cideon> *INT check
<Targo> (OOC: Do I get to add half my level to that?)
<Targo> (OOC: Also I would so take 10)
<Targo> roll 1d20+3 but if it doesn't and I can't then this is it
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+3 but if it doesn't and I can't then this is it and gets 13."12 [1d20=10]
<El-Cideon> OOC: That's a good question, but ten is enough, sooo--
<El-Cideon> The signal's origin is about twenty kilometers away to the northeast, so it looks like the team has another couple hours of walking ahead of them.
* Wilhelmina changes the frequency on the radio she'd fixed, willing to leave it behind since their target is close enough.
<Targo> "Alright, let's hurry up. Maybe they'll still be asleep when we get there," muses Targo, stalking out of the hut.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d100
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d100 and gets 27."12 [1d100=27]
<El-Cideon> After another hour or so of walking, a howl sounds off in the distance behind the trio. The way sound echoes off the mountains here, it's hard to be sure at first how far away the source is.
* Forrest has good ears and might be able to tell anyway!
<Forrest> roll 1d20+13
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+13 and gets 26."12 [1d20=13]
<Forrest> "'Bout a klik behind us," Forrest reports, glancing back.
<El-Cideon> The comm channel, meanwhile, is mostly quiet with some occasional exchanged remarks about a meeting. It's all quite formal and military (almost self-consciously so). Apparently the gathering is at "Delta Point," for what that's worth.
<Targo> "I don't want to get stuck blasting wolves when they might hear the report," replies Targo, frowning. "Can you throw them off somehow?"
<Targo> "Assuming they're hunting us. Call me paranoid."
<Wilhelmina> "Or fight them with knives and your bare hands," Wlihelmina adds.
<Forrest> "We could split up, or maybe kill another animal and leave it behind for the wolf to eat when it catches up?" Forrest suggests. "They probably won't attack the three of us while we're together, anyway."
<Targo> "We should've brought some of that meat. Well, I don't like the idea of splitting up, so we'll hedge on the second idea," replies Targo, frowning.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+8 survival to find distraction-meat
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+8 survival to find distraction-meat and gets 19."12 [1d20=11]
<El-Cideon> A minute's search turns up a recently deceased dire rat which may have died from boredom. Scavengers have been at it a bit, but there's still some meat on it.
* Forrest tosses it behind him on the trail. It might distract the wolf a bit if it happens this way.
<El-Cideon> The rest of the walk is uneventful. None of the local beasties catch up with the team, so presumably their distraction worked. Meanwhile, com chatter picks up as the time closes in on ten A.M. Apparently "Alpha Team" and "Team Strike Force" have arrived at the meeting place. After the Company has walked the distance calculated by Targo, they can see a thin plume of smoke wafting over the treeline not far away.
* Forrest naturally pauses and sets up the sensor dish.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+18
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+18 and gets 19."12 [1d20=1]
<Forrest> roll 1d20+18 reroll
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+18 reroll and gets 36."12 [1d20=18]
<Targo> "'Team Strike Force'?" asks Targo, incredulously.
* Wilhelmina just laughs quietly.
<Forrest> "I used to be part of the First Action Reconnaisance Team," Forrest mutters while working on the dish. "These guys have it better."
<Targo> "Except for the small matter of their credibility."
<Wilhelmina> "There are not enough words to express my scorn. Roberta will have to speak for me."
<Forrest> "FART never had any credibility either," Forrest mutters under his breath. "Anyway, got a cluster of structures with ten folks wandering around the centre of the clearing to the East and one a bit to the South of them but still just in the clearing."
<Targo> "Is that why you quit?"
<Forrest> "Among other reasons," Forrest packs up the dish. "So, what's the plan?"
<Wilhelmina> "This is where I regret not having explosives."
<Targo> "Let's get a bit closer and see if we can make visual without being seen. Got your binocs?"
* Forrest unholsters his rifle and flips the cover of its scope. "This'll do," he pats it. "Y'know, I don't think we even know what this Magnus feller even looks like, do we?"
<Targo> "No. But he's the guy in charge," replies Targo. "They won't be expecting an attack, so he'll be making himself obvious."
<Wilhelmina> "We need one of them alive," Wilhelmina mentions. "Just in case he's not there."
<Forrest> "Well, I'll be back in five. If you hear shooting, you know the drill," Forrest grins lazily before he hunkers down and sneaks forward through the undergrowth towards Delta site.
<Targo> "THey'll split into their seperate groups after the meeting, most likely. They shouldn't be a match for us.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+9 stealth
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+9 stealth and gets 20."12 [1d20=11]
<Targo> "Yeah, look, even ten idiots with guns are ten idiots with guns," mutters Targo. "Good luck." OOC: Inspire confidence!!!11
<Forrest> OOC: 21!
<El-Cideon> Moving closer, Forrest can see into the clearing. The Orangemen are gathered around a firepit in the center, some sitting on fallen logs, others standing. All of them have the tell-tale orange sash and/or bandana (or, in one case, a sock pinned to a jacket). Though Magnus is not helpfully labelled, the group is listening to one particular man in heavy armor. (more)
<El-Cideon> It's hard to tell for sure beneath the armor, but he looks stocky and heavyset. He has graying blonde hair which is rather shoddily cut. Though Forrest can't make out the words from hear, he looks to be really, REALLY into whatever it is he's saying. Plenty of wild expressions and gesticulating. Most of the men are entranced, but occasionally someone glances outside the clearing--
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+1
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+1 and gets 6."12 [1d20=5]
<El-Cideon> --nevertheless, no one seems to have noticed Forrest. Yet.
* Forrest tries to see if he can spot the loner to the Southeast. "Fat guy in armour's givin' a speech," Forrest whispers into the comlink. "Others are lappin' it up, guess he's our boy."
<Targo> "Alright. I don't terribly care for his rhetoric, whatever it is. We'll get a bit closer. They're all bunched together nice and neatly, correct? They all armed?"
<Forrest> Are they?
<El-Cideon> All of them are quite obviously armed. They're not quite close enough for one grenade to hit the whole group, but you could safely bet on hitting more than one person with one.
<Wilhelmina> "Bunched together?" Wilhelmina asks Targo quietly. "That calls for a grenade."
<Targo> "I thought you'd never ask," replies Targo, tossing one over.
<Forrest> "Fairly close, all armed," Forrest confirms, still trying to spot the loner if he can.
<Targo> "Can you see the source of the smoke?"
<Forrest> "They're around a firepit."
<El-Cideon> The loner is not in plain view. Wherever he/she/it is, he doesn't seem to taking part with the rest of the group. As for the bunch around the fire, they're in a couple distinct clumps. The leader's on the opposite side of the fire from Forrest, flanked by a couple of likely lieutenants. Someone slightly more alert stands right behind him, occasionally scanning the woods. A couple highly-disciplined looking soldiers stand on the other side of tyhe fire, with their backs to Forrest. Two pairs of lazy-looking mooks stand farther away from the firepit.
<Targo> "Right. Their secondary team is going to be here in twenty minutes or so, and I don't like the sound of taking on eleven people at once. Forrest, I've got a portable camera, I'll come a bit closer and give it to you. You set it up, and we'll track their leader after their groups split up again."
<El-Cideon> Someone slightly more alert stands right behind him, occasionally scanning the woods. A couple highly-disciplined looking soldiers stand on the other side of tyhe fire, with their backs to Forrest. Two pairs of lazy-looking mooks stand farther away from the firepit. Everyone is just out of comfortable grenade range, but still reachable (OOC: 10 squares).
<Forrest> "Got it," Forrest confirms, stealthily crawling back to meet up with Targo.
* Targo tosses Forrest the device when he arrives, it being little more than modified camcorder. "The power pack should last quite some time. I've set it up, all you need to do is flick the switch. It'll relay the information back to the sensor pack."
* Forrest nods and crawls back into position where he can then hide the camera where it's pointed at the delta site, centred on the firepit.
<El-Cideon> This done, the recorder starts sending its observations back to the dish.
<Forrest> Leaving the tiny camera to do the spying now, Forrest retreats to join the others.
* Targo settles in for some exciting television.
* Forrest sets up the dish to both watch the camera feed and check for anyone else approaching their position.
<El-Cideon> Magnus really does seem to get into his work. He's a highly energetic orator and, judging by his expressions, has a total conviction in himself and a total lack of irony. Eventually the group breaks up a little: Magnus marches off to the cabin at the north end of the clearing and disappears inside. The two lieutenants and a third man, reed-thin, with long black hair, take up station outside. The others remain chatting by the fire.
<El-Cideon> fire.
<El-Cideon> Not much happens as the Company waits and watches. One of the younger goons downs a beer, then gestures expansively in front of him (as if trying to contain an imaginary beer gut) and waddles in front of the others, who laugh uproariously at the impersonation. The laughter stops abruptly at a bark from the black-haired guard by the door.
<El-Cideon> Eventually Team Avalanche shows up, but the composition of the group remains unchanged as another group leaves eastward on some mysterious errand. Sometime past noon, Magnus reappears and gathers the group again, starting to draw diagrams in the dirt by the fire. Everyone watches and listens attentively. (more)
<El-Cideon> It's at this point that the distinctive sound of a grenade exploding, somewhere off to the south, shatters the alpine tranquility. Everyone in the clearing looks up in alarm; Magnus orders the black-haired man to look into it, and the man promptly leaves with two others. Magnus retreats to the cabin, and the remaining six men stand guard in front of it.
<Targo> OOC: The other group went to the south, right?
<Targo> OOC: Any idea how far south the grenade was?
<Targo> OOC: Also, sensor picking anything new up?
<El-Cideon> OOC: Well, they left to the east, but they *could* come back from the south. And the explosion was in the woods just south of the clearing, from the sound of it. I already PMed Forrest for the third question.
<Targo> "Not what I expected, but this could be our chance," notes Targo. "Forrest, any concerns?"
<Forrest> "Huh. Looks like the loner to the South did that, now he's fighting the ones going to investigate," Forrest reports. "Looks like we've got ourselves a rival."
<Targo> "Well, he'll be disappointed, then," replies Targo. "Let's go. Surprise should get rid of the guys out the front without much trouble, and we should be done faster than them. We'll use the buildings for cover and open with grenades."
<Wilhelmina> "Works for me."
<Forrest> "Better move fast, he'll come after us if he finishes with those orangemen," Forrest opines, packing up the dish and readying his rifle.
* Targo doesn't take another second, being sure to approach the pseudo-village from an angle that puts a shack between him and the six guards.
* Wilhelmina comes along with Targo, if only because Targo is squishy and she doesn't want him to die just yet.
* Forrest follows behind the others after packing up the expensive sensor dish.
<El-Cideon> Sounds of a firefight continue from the south, while the guards wait tensely outside Magnus's cabin. Peering around the corner of a shack at the edge of the clearing, Targo can see them standing in a staggered line in front of the cabin.
<Wilhelmina> Grenade in one hand, Roberta in other, Wilhelmina waits on Targo's signal.
<Targo> Targo gives Roberta and Forrest the nod, before slinging a grenade across the roof of the cabin to land near the middle of the line of unfortunates!
<Targo> roll 1d20+6 attacking!
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+6 attacking! and gets 19."12 [1d20=13]
<Targo> roll 4d6+3
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 4d6+3 and gets 12."12 [4d6=3, 2, 3, 1]
<Targo> *Wil, oh, the hilarity
* Wilhelmina tosses her own grenade a moment later, ready to follow through with Roberta!
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+10 and gets 23."12 [1d20=13]
<Wilhelmina> roll 4d6+4
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 4d6+4 and gets 25."12 [4d6=3, 6, 6, 6]
<El-Cideon> The two grenades detonate before the poor bandits can react! One of the younger men is shredded instantly and falls to the ground lifelessly, while the two guards at the center of the line are horribly wounded! "What the--! Noooo, they killed Todd! Get 'em, boys!" And then, the ruckus began.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Init.
<Targo> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+5 and gets 9."12 [1d20=4]
<Forrest> roll 1d20+9
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+9 and gets 14."12 [1d20=5]
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+11
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+11 and gets 18."12 [1d20=7]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+2 Maimed Soldier A
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+2 Maimed Soldier A and gets 21."12 [1d20=19]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+1 Maimed Soldier B
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+1 Maimed Soldier B and gets 6."12 [1d20=5]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+1 Mook 1
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+1 Mook 1 and gets 13."12 [1d20=12]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+1 Mook 2
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+1 Mook 2 and gets 15."12 [1d20=14]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+1 Mook 3
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+1 Mook 3 and gets 2."12 [1d20=1]
* Retrieving #dunes modes...
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Maimed Soldier A (C-1) > Wil > Mook 2 > Forrest > Mook 1 > Maimed Soldier A (C-1) > Mook 3'
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Maimed Soldier B (C-1) > Wil > Mook 2 > Forrest > Mook 1 > Maimed Soldier A (C-1) > Mook 3'
<Targo> OOC: And Targo doesn't go at all
<Targo> OOC: I see how it is
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Maimed Soldier A (C-1) > Wil > Mook 2 > Forrest > Mook 1 > Targo > Maimed Soldier B (C-1) > Mook 3'
<El-Cideon> One of the wounded guards limps around the cabin in search of the grenades' source--and spots Targo around the corner of the building! "Capitalist dog!" he roars. "By my bright orange sash, you'll pay!" He readies an automatic rifle and unleashes a volley at Targo!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20 auto-fire
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20 auto-fire and gets 10."12 [1d20=10]
<El-Cideon> roll 3d8+2 for damage (to be halved)
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 3d8+2 for damage (to be halved) and gets 21."12 [3d8=5, 7, 7]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Wil.
<Wilhelmina> Targo has his grenades and should be able to deal with one wounded idiot. "I'll draw the rest off," she tells him, and rounds the cabin from the other side, shooting the closest orange-covered moron.
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+10 and gets 22."12 [1d20=12]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Hit.
<Wilhelmina> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 3d8+3 and gets 16."12 [3d8=2, 7, 4]
<El-Cideon> Bullseye! One of the less disciplined goons takes a hit to the face and crumples to the ground.
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Maimed Soldier A (C-1) > Wil >  Forrest > Mook 1 > Targo > Maimed Soldier B (C-1) > Mook 3'
<El-Cideon> OOC: Forrest.
* Forrest steps out from cover and snaps off a shot at the one who attacked Targo before he moves on behind the cabin to use ot as cover.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+6 and gets 22."12 [1d20=16]
<Forrest> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 3d8+3 and gets 14."12 [3d8=1, 7, 3]
<El-Cideon> The soldier takes a bolt of hot, steamy plasma to the gut and falls! Meanwhile, the leftmost goon in the line spins to fire at this new threat!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+3 and gets 16."12 [1d20=13]
<El-Cideon> But the bolt sizzles into a snowbank behind Forrest, totally ineffective! (OOC: Targo).
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil >  Forrest > Mook 1 > Targo > Maimed Soldier B (C-1) > Mook 3'
<Targo> Targo grits his teeth, summoning reserves he didn't know he had. They're insulting money! Money! He fires back, determined that this slander will end.
<Targo> roll 1d20+8 and taking my second wind
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+8 and taking my second wind and gets 23."12 [1d20=15]
<Targo> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 3d8+3 and gets 21."12 [3d8=5, 5, 8]
<El-Cideon> It's a stunning hit that sends the mook spinning in place before carshing to the ground! Meanwhile, the injured soldier sneers at Wil. "So you folks like grenades, huh?" he barks. He produces one of his own, pulls the pin and hurls it at her!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+5 and gets 18."12 [1d20=13]
<El-Cideon> roll 4d6+2 damage to be halved
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 4d6+2 damage to be halved and gets 20."12 [4d6=4, 5, 5, 4]
<El-Cideon> Emboldened by his comrade's success, the young orangemen next to him in line pulls a pistol and fires at Wil!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+3 and gets 16."12 [1d20=13]
<El-Cideon> an effort which demonstrates that Magnus really, really needs to give his men some target practice. (OOC: Wil).
<Wilhelmina> "Everyone's a comedian," Wilhelmina mutters, putting the idiot who shot at her out of his misery.
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+10 and gets 29."12 [1d20=19]
<Wilhelmina> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 3d8+3 and gets 13."12 [3d8=4, 5, 1]
<El-Cideon> It's a hit--the goon barely remains standing from the blast!
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil >  Forrest > Mook 1 > Targo > Maimed Soldier B (C-1) > Mook 3 (C-1)'
<El-Cideon> OOC: Forrest.
* Forrest steps out from behind the cabin to help Wil in putting down her target before he once again ducks back behind the cover it offers.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+6 and gets 12."12 [1d20=6]
<El-Cideon> Forrest's bolt sizzles the man's treasured sash, but doesn't hurt him! The one nearest Forrest takes another shot at him, in the meantime.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+3 and gets 6."12 [1d20=3]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Total failure. You're up, Targo.
<Targo> Targo focuses his own efforts on the one aiming at Forrest, using his off-hand to brace his wrist.
<Targo> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+8 and gets 23."12 [1d20=15]
<Targo> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 3d8+3 and gets 16."12 [3d8=2, 6, 5]
<El-Cideon> Success! The man falls to the ground, dead. The wounded soldier unstraps an ax from his back and advances on Wil! "Let's carve up that pretty face of yours!" he yells, taking two rapid swings.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+3 and gets 5."12 [1d20=2]
* Wilhelmina blinks. "Haven't been told that in a while." She idly examines the axe-wielding maniac for head injuries.
<El-Cideon> However, he only succeeds in carving up the side of the cabin, provoking an astonished yelp from inside! His wounded companion, hands shaking as he tries to wield his pistol, instead bolts to the south at a full run, making his way to the southern edge of the clearing with all possible haste and shouting for help!
<El-Cideon> OOC: Wil.
* Wilhelmina presses Roberta's barrel against the crazy pseudo-soldier's forehead and squeezes the trigger.
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+10 die
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+10 die and gets 28."12 [1d20=18]
<Wilhelmina> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 3d8+3 and gets 11."12 [3d8=4, 1, 3]
<El-Cideon> Astonishingly, he doesn't die! The shot leaves him teetering precariously in place, as though a stiff breeze would be enough to finish him off. OOC: Forrest.
<Wilhelmina> "He really might have bricks for brains...."
<Forrest> Since the others have the mooks under control, Forrest moves around to the front of the cabin adjacent to the door so that he can deal with anyone who comes out.
<El-Cideon> No one seems to making a run for it...yet. OOC: Targo.
<Targo> OOC: Who's left?
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil >  Forrest > Targo > Maimed Soldier B (C-1) > Mook 3 (C-1)'
<El-Cideon> OOC: The guy Wil reduced to 2HP and the kid trying to bolt.
<Targo> Targo advances on the door, priming a grenade to throw in upon it's opening.
<El-Cideon> While Targo waits, Wil's erstwhile opponent takes another swing at her! "Take this, vile oppressor of! For Justiiiice!"
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+3 and gets 17."12 [1d20=14]
<El-Cideon> Another heavy *thunk* as his axe digs into the cabin. No startled shout this time, though. And noises from the south indicate that backup is on the way. OOC: Wil.
<Wilhelmina> "Just die. It's embarrassing." Wilhelmina shoots him again.
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+10 and gets 15."12 [1d20=5]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Hit.
<Wilhelmina> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 3d8+3 and gets 21."12 [3d8=6, 8, 4]
<El-Cideon> The soldier falls to the ground minus one head.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Forrest.
<Forrest> Seeing Targo prime a grenade, Forrest nods in understanding and pushes the door open from the side, keeping himself out of the line of fire.
<Targo> The stun grenade bounces inside the cabin, going off with a deafening crack!
<Targo> roll 1d20+5 I don't know what I'm aiming at but the house isn't that big, is it? >_>
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+5 I don't know what I'm aiming at but the house isn't that big, is it? >_> and gets 6."12 [1d20=1]
<Targo> OOC: Fine, mock me, bot
<Targo> roll 4d6+2 zzz
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 4d6+2 zzz and gets 20."12 [4d6=5, 6, 4, 3]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Haha. Half damage, at least.
<El-Cideon> There's a shriek from inside, and a flash of light as the grenade goes off. Someswearing indicates that the man inside is far from down and out, though...and a shout from the south indicates his support's arrived. "Commander Magnus!" the black-haired guard yells. "We lost the intruder and he killed Team Discovery! And--who the hell are you people?!"
<Forrest> "Team Killing Your Sorry Asses!" Forrest calls back.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+10 Denny's init
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+10 Denny's init and gets 30."12 [1d20=20]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+10 Lt. Smash's init
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+10 Lt. Smash's init and gets 22."12 [1d20=12]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+10 Lt. Lt.'s init
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+10 Lt. Lt.'s init and gets 16."12 [1d20=6]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+6 Magnus's init
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+6 Magnus's init and gets 21."12 [1d20=15]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+13 ???
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+13 ??? and gets 32."12 [1d20=19]
* El-Cideon changes topic to '??? > Captain Denny> Lt. Smash > Wil > Lt. Lt. >  Forrest > Targo'
* El-Cideon changes topic to '??? > Captain Denny> Lt. Smash Magnus > Wil > Lt. Lt. >  Forrest > Targo'
* El-Cideon changes topic to '??? > Captain Denny> Lt. Smash > Magnus > Wil > Lt. Lt. >  Forrest > Targo'
<El-Cideon> The black-haired guard levels a rifle at Targo and peers down the scope. "We can end this right now if you're willing to stand down," he offers. "We've got more men on the way." The lieutenant to his left follows suit, taking aim at Targo and seemingly awaiting provocation. Meanwhile, Magnus barrels out of the cabin at a full run, leaps *through* the firepit, and continues running on the other side! (more)
<El-Cideon> "This donnybrooke's not for me lads! Captain Denny, hold them off while I prepare the cannon!"
<El-Cideon> OOC: Wil, your move.
<Wilhelmina> "The money... is running away," Wilhelmina comments dumbly, unable to reconcile this version of events.
<Targo> "What are you saying? You're the ones who should stand down," replies Targo, rolling his eyes. "The entire armed community is going to be after you guys. All they want is your idiot leader. Turn him over and I won't bother to mention the rest of you."
* Wilhelmina decides to move after her paycheck, following as much as she's able while using the cabins for cover, before squeezing off a shot.
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+10
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+10 and gets 12."12 [1d20=2]
<El-Cideon> *Spang* The bolt bounces off Magnus's gleaming armor. His lackeys take this as a sign to resume hostilities and the dread LIEUTENANT LIEUTENANT pulls a blaster and fires at Wil!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+6 and gets 26."12 [1d20=20]
<El-Cideon> roll 3d6+2 damage to be double ouchie
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 3d6+2 damage to be double ouchie and gets 13."12 [3d6=4, 3, 4]
* El-Cideon changes topic to '??? > Captain Denny> Lt. Smash > Magnus > Wil (C-1) > Lt. Lt. >  Forrest > Targo'
<El-Cideon> OOC: Forrest.
<Forrest> This could be troublesome, so Forrest fires off a shot at Magnus before ducking into the cabin he just vacated for cover.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+6 and gets 22."12 [1d20=16]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Hit.
<Forrest> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 3d8+3 and gets 15."12 [3d8=6, 2, 4]
<El-Cideon> A startled yelp from Magnus as the blaster bolt takes him square in the back! It's not enough to stop him, though. OOC: Wil. Remember, minus one to your rolls.
<Wilhelmina> OOC: Me again? Not Targo?
<Targo> OOC: You're really into passing me over :V
<El-Cideon> OOC: Oops, yes, Targo.
<El-Cideon> OOC I'm sorry, it's Ignore Rat day!
<Targo> Targo squeezes off another shot after Magnus, aiming for the back of the man's head instead of daring his armour. Putting him down is too important right now- the subordinates may surrender without their leader, and that would be perfect. Miss or hit, he dives to the ground afterwards, going prone close to Wil to avoid fire! "Get down," he hisses.
<Targo> roll 1d20+8+1d6 Magnus, right
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+8+1d6 Magnus, right and gets 21."12 [1d20=7][1d6=6]
<Targo> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 3d8+3 and gets 15."12 [3d8=1, 5, 6]
<El-Cideon> Another hit, but Magnus keeps on running to the south, desperation driving him more than pain--that is, until a blaster bolt tears out of the woods to the south, headed towards his guards!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+12
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+12 and gets 22."12 [1d20=10]
<El-Cideon> roll 3d10+5
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 3d10+5 and gets 18."12 [3d10=5, 3, 5]
<El-Cideon> The bolt strikes Captain Denny right between the shoulderblades, causing him to spin around and look for this new attacker! Lt. Smash whirls around to give him cover fire as Magnus veers to this left and darts out of sight behind a cabin!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+9
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+9 and gets 14."12 [1d20=5]
<El-Cideon> Fortunately forgotten for the moment while the goons fire off into the woods, it's Wil's turn!
<Wilhelmina> Regaining her composure, Wilhelmina follows Magnus. If she can't see him now, perhaps she would have some cover from the rest of the idiots, too.
<El-Cideon> Lt. Lt., leaving his buddies to hunt after the phantom sniper, follows up on his glorious success last round by plugging away at Targo.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+6 and gets 18."12 [1d20=12]
<Targo> OOC: I'm prone, so it's a miss.
<El-Cideon> Instead, the cabin garners yet more abuse. OOC: Forrest.
* Forrest steps out of said cabin and snaps off a shot at the lieutenant before ducking back into cover!
<Forrest> roll 1d20+6
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+6 and gets 20."12 [1d20=14]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Hit.
<Forrest> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 3d8+3 and gets 20."12 [3d8=3, 7, 7]
<El-Cideon> Lt. Lt. pays for his daring by taking a shot to the gut that sends him to his knees for a moment. "Guh...crap," he mutters.
<El-Cideon> OOC: TARGO.
* El-Cideon changes topic to '??? > Captain Denny> Lt. Smash > Magnus > Wil (C-1) > Lt. Lt. (C-1) >  Forrest > Targo'
<Targo> Targo intends to finish the job, snapping off another shot after their still-living aggressor.
<Targo> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+8 and gets 19."12 [1d20=11]
<Targo> roll 3d8+3
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 3d8+3 and gets 16."12 [3d8=5, 2, 6]
<El-Cideon> OOC: 19 is actually a miss. >.>
<El-Cideon> More firing from the south as Denny and the esteemed L.T. Smash march into the woods after the mystery shooter. Magnus tears out of the clearing to the east, disappearing into the treeline but leaving obvious tracks. OOC: Wil.
<Targo> OOC: Bah
<Wilhelmina> That bastard is making her run. Wilhelmina takes offense at that more than she does at having been shot and thrown a grenade at.
<El-Cideon> Magnus's armor must be slowing him down--Wil can just make out his back about twenty meters ahead as she breaks into the undergrowth herself.
<El-Cideon> Lt. Lt. grits his teeth and makes another attempt to snipe at Targo. "Lady luck, be kind!"
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+5 and gets 15."12 [1d20=10]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+5 reroll via Lucky Shot
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+5 reroll via Lucky Shot and gets 15."12 [1d20=10]
<El-Cideon> So close, and yet so far. OOC: Forrest.
<Targo> Targo shoots back, and is no real believer in luck, himself.
<Targo> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+8 and gets 10."12 [1d20=2]
<Forrest> "I'm getting hungry, hombre!" Forrest roars as he steps out of the cabin and hoses the lietenant down with a volley of plasma death before ducking back inside for cover.
<Targo> OOC: Er, yes, I miss, I'm sure
<Forrest> roll 1d20+1 autofire
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+1 autofire and gets 10."12 [1d20=9]
<Forrest> roll 3d8+3 halved
<Targo> OOC: Though Forrest goes first. Right. Apologies!
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 3d8+3 halved and gets 23."12 [3d8=5, 7, 8]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Hit.
<El-Cideon> (Forrest's).
<Forrest> OOC: 10 hit?
<Forrest> OOC: full damage then, i guess
<El-Cideon> OOC: Oops. I saw your damage roll as an attack roll. >.<
<El-Cideon> The barrage of bolts strikes the Lieutenant and knocks him to his knees again. This time, he stays there. "Shit..." He glances around the clearing, finding himself alone now, and throws down his gun.
<El-Cideon> Meanwhile, Magnus continues his erstwhile flight! He breaks out of the tree line into another clearing--this one opening onto a sheer cliff face covered with snow--and leaps out onto a hill descending to a cave at the foot of the cliff! OOC: Wil again, the other three goobers are off playing in the woods.
<El-Cideon> It's worth noting that the cave mouth he's heading towards has some kind of weapon set up out front.
* Wilhelmina follows, ruthlessly shooting at his armored back. With all her strength!
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+9+1d6
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+9+1d6 and gets 19."12 [1d20=8][1d6=2]
<El-Cideon> OOC: You're still at -1, recall...and that bounces off his armor anyway. >.>
<Wilhelmina> OOC: That's at -1
<El-Cideon> OOC: *nod*
<Targo> Targo picks himself up, and dashes towards the man, keeping his gun trained on him. He pointedly flicks the blaster to stun before blasting into the man's head at point-blank before dashing in the same direction Wil left in.
<El-Cideon> Magnus slides down the slope unharmed and tumbles on his ass at the bottom, quickly struggling to his feet. "Made it!" he gasps, taking a spot behind the gun set up at the cave's mouth. It's behind a waist-high barricade of rock, which gives him some cover. He swivels the gun on its axis, looking for a target.(more)
<El-Cideon> Lt. Lt., meanwhile, tumbles to the ground in a boneless heap, shock registering on his face before he passes out. He probably hadn't noticed Targo's gone was on stun.
* Wilhelmina drops to one knee, aiming Roberta at the annoyance before trying to put him down once and for all!
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+9
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+9 and gets 10."12 [1d20=1]
<El-Cideon> Roberta manages to blast some rocks off the cliff face, but Magnus himself is undamaged--and now has a target. "There you are!" he cries. "Let's see how you fare against an opponent with a GUN." He wheels the heavy blaster around and fires a volley at Wil!
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20-1
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20-1 and gets 8."12 [1d20=9]
<El-Cideon> 3d10+6 damage to be halved (autofire)
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 3d10+6 damage to be halved (autofire) and gets 21."12 [3d10=4, 6, 5]
* Wilhelmina shakes her head, rolling her eyes at the same time. "Please die. With ALL YOUR STRENGTH!"
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+9+1d6 aim
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+9+1d6 aim and gets 13."12 [1d20=3][1d6=1]
<El-Cideon> *Spang* again. Wil kills more rocks!
* Forrest charges into the fray and barrels down the hill wildly waving his rifle in the air. "That's not a gun! This is a gun!"
<Targo> Targo adopts a more circumspect approach, but he's nonetheless eager to affirm his weapon's credentials.
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Magnus > Wil (C-1) >  Forrest > Targo'
<Targo> Targo supports his comrades, like a true leader!
<Targo> From the rear, of course.
<Targo> roll 1d20+8 aiming, cover means nothing to me!
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+8 aiming, cover means nothing to me! and gets 12."12 [1d20=4]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Miss.
<El-Cideon> Magnus tries to wheel the gun around to shoot at Forrest as he closes in, but apparently it wasn't made to hit someone that's *right next to the gunner*. Instead, he grabs something from the ground at his feet and takes a step back to aim at Forrest...with a missile launcher. "I'm in fine fettle yet, as you'll see. You vile oppressors know nothing about firearms, see? THIS IS A GUN." And then he fired a rocket at Forrest. With himself in the blast range.
<El-Cideon> With himself in the blast range.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+4
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+4 and gets 13."12 [1d20=9]
<El-Cideon> It explodes against the cliff face, sending a shower of rock and dust flying at Forrest but otherwise not harming him! As for Magnus, though--
<El-Cideon> roll 6d6+6
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 6d6+6 and gets 29."12 [6d6=5, 3, 5, 6, 2, 2]
<El-Cideon> --HE's barely left standing.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Wil.
* Wilhelmina is pretty committed to shooting Magnus until he dies from it. Which would require hitting him. Oh, the embarrassment, can she ever be over it? Even he is hitting himself more than she does!
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+9+1d6 aim
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 1d20+9+1d6 aim and gets 30."12 [1d20=20][1d6=1]
<El-Cideon> OOC: Hit, he is so dead.
<Targo> "What the- you extremist freaks! You'll put us out of a job!"
<Wilhelmina> roll 3d8+3 glee
* Hatbot --> "Wilhelmina rolls 3d8+3 glee and gets 16."12 [3d8=4, 3, 6]
<El-Cideon> *Splat* The cliff wall is redecorated with Magnus's innards as the echoes of his own weapon rattle off the cliff face.
<Forrest> "Nice shootin'," Forrest doffs his hat, glancing between Magnus and Wil. "Both of you."
<Wilhelmina> "Hmph."
<Targo> "I should be happy. And I'm not."
<Targo> "This has just been..." continues Targo, stalking over to the barricades.
<Wilhelmina> "Twenty thousand. A heavy weapon. And maybe even armor." Wilhelmina considers. "Yes, it just might help. Did he have more rockets?"
<El-Cideon> He did have more rockets. There are five more in stock just inside the cave mouth.
* Wilhelmina looks happy upon seeing that when she approaches.
<Forrest> "His friends might come back," Forrest points out, setting up the sensor dish behind the barricade to see who's nearby.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+18
* Hatbot --> "Forrest rolls 1d20+18 and gets 37."12 [1d20=19]
* Wilhelmina gathers the rockets, humming to herself.
<Targo> roll 1d20+10 I healz Wil
* Hatbot --> "Targo rolls 1d20+10 I healz Wil and gets 24."12 [1d20=14]
<Targo> OOC: +14 HP, I think
<Forrest> "Avalanche!" Forrest yells, snatching up the dish and running away!
<El-Cideon> There is a distinct rumbling noise from above that suggest being away from the cave mouth would be advisable.
<Wilhelmina> "Targo, let's grab the twenty thousand idiot!"
* Targo is always one to follow the advice of nature, and evacuates accordingly.
<El-Cideon> Rocks and snow cascade down the cliffside, smashing the barricade and covering the cave mouth just after Targo and co. escape with their booty.
<Wilhelmina> Well, since he doesn't feel like it, then Wilhelmina won't bother, either. She moves back as swiftly as she's able in her state.
<El-Cideon> ~
<El-Cideon> It's evening by the time the Lagoon Company makes it's way back to Melville. The town is noticeably busier than it had been before. For one thing, there are a lot of people wandering about the streets with rifles strapped to their backs. Even moreso than usual!
<Forrest> "Heh, suckers," Forrest chuckles to himself as they drive past.
<El-Cideon> Presumably the cops put the word out about Magnus and his men, indeed. Not that it's going to matter now.
* Wilhelmina snorts. "Who else is tempted to keep the guy in the freezer for a few days? Those idiots should be cleansed."
<Targo> "I thought of that, but that would mean coming back here to drop him in sometime. Let's make a clean break."
<Forrest> "Targo has it right," Forrest nods sagely.
<El-Cideon> As should be expected, the police station is fairly busy. Plenty of folks making the same sort of inquiry that Targo and friends dropped by for this morning. Some look like respectable organizations, some are clearly the scum of Wellington looking for a quick buck.
<Wilhelmina> "What if we ask the cops to keep it quiet for a few days? Orangemen. With explosives."
<Targo> "You know what? I'd rather we didn't get publicity over this one. Fighting those people was embarrasing," remarks Targo, exiting the truck and heading into the station, freezer-box in hand.
* Wilhelmina nods, looking disgusted.
<El-Cideon> The same cop is on duty. He looks more haggard than ever, but is glad to cut off being interrogated by a highly disagreeable-looking asian woman and her flunkies in order to talk to someone as polite as Targo. "Hey, the boys from this morning," he says. "You guys must be psychic. You know, we hadn't actually put out the notice when you all showed up. What's in the box?"
<Targo> "I'm not," declares Targo, his mood certainly not improving as he enters the station. "We should probably speak privately. What's inside here isn't pretty."
<El-Cideon> He raises an eyebrow, but seems glad to leave his current company and escorts Targo into an office.
* Forrest cheerfully heads on in with Targo and the cop and the corpse.
<Targo> "We've brought Magnus. Specifically, his head. Would you like to see?" asks Targo, hand poised over the handle.
<El-Cideon> The cop raises *both* eyebrows. "Ah, well, I suppose I'll have to," he says.
<Targo> Targo doesn't have a problem opening the box, revealing the the grisly spectacle of a head packed in with numerous ice cubes. Frozen blood rounds out the display- it's certainly a shocking sight to those who aren't use to death.
<El-Cideon> The cop does seem a little leery of this spectacle, but manages to accept it with just a sigh. "Ah, that's him, alright. Unless you three have an advanced cloning lab somewhere, and you made yourself a clone and cut the head off for the bounty. ...No?" He sighs again. "Shame. We've got all these mercs in town and I'll have to tell 'em there's no one to hunt down now."
<Targo> "I'm fairly certain the expense outweighs the reward," replies Targo, repressing a snort. "Anyway, why don't you just keep it a secret from them for a couple of days? The town gets business, the mercs get exercise, we get paid, and everyone's happy."
<El-Cideon> "...Right," he says after a moment. "I'll just keep this baby in the evidence locker for now." He dutifully takes down your contact information in order the transfer the funds, then escorts you out of the office. The asian woman's eyes are locked on the office door when you come out, like she'd been trying to will it open the whole while.
* Forrest gives the woman a friendly smile in passing but doesn't linger, mostly just wanting to go home and have a shower.
* Targo tilts his head at the sudden stare, plainly perplexed, but he doesn't spare words as he departs the station.
<Forrest> Something to eat, too. He wasn't kidding when he told those mooks how hungry he was getting.
* Wilhelmina starts the engine as Forrest and Targo emerge, ready to get them all back home.
<El-Cideon> She turns to the poor, beleaguered cop as you pass by. As you leave the station, you can hear a brief exchange. "What was that about?" "Internal police matters aren't anything for the Sanada Group to be concerned about, ma'am."
<El-Cideon> ---