Writing Class (Advanced) - Short Story #1 -- The Trouble With Milk

Hi folks, sorry that it takes a while to work out new things and get them posted.  My time is being eaten up more and more these days, but on the bright side - only a few more semesters of classes left!  Once I'm all done I'll have my Associates Degree as a Web Designer!

However this isn't why your all here.  In terms of projects, I'm working on a new D&D character class, the Mancer.  With luck, I'll be able to wrap it up this month.


Now since I'm in another Fictional Writing class I figured I should share my bit of work here once again.  In this assignment we were limited to 10 pages, double spaced.  With these limits I couldn't quite broaden out things like I wanted to, and give simple explanations to some elements.

What can you expect?  Well if you enjoy Sir Terry Pratchett's work then you should enjoy this short story.  I wrote with in an attempt to emulate Terry's style of writing, giving a voice to each character in the story - and there's quite a few.  Everyone that read it, including the teacher, enjoyed it, though until I read it out loud to them they were a bit confused with the story (and from my understanding this was a problem some people ran into when it came to Terry's work as well, thus they needed to reread the stories a few times to catch the voice).

When reading try giving everyone a southern accent - it'll help.

Also, fair warning, bad puns are to follow.

The short story to follow is my own creation and this is my intellectual property.  Copy & Distribution is not allowed without my permission (though your free to share the link to this blog post for folks to read).

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The Trouble With Milk
By: Sean Ropp (4/16/2019)

Wiryahire, is a sleepy old western town, a town that has been built someplace intelligent, near a river and some woods.  Certainly not some god forsaken desert where there is only one well to draw water from and the people are half mad from the heat.  Benches lined nearly every building in town, save for the tavern due to the sudden egress of some patrons via means of defenestration.

“Mornin, nother hot day Bob.”  An old man said from where he sat on a bench in front of the general store, spitting distance from the tavern, as another old man approached him.

“Ah yep, so it is Bill, so it is.”  Bob said as he sat next to the first upon a bench.  His head twitched to the side for a moment before returning to normal.  This went unnoticed by Bill.

Across from their general store was the inn and being a rather laid-back town not much was happening at that moment in that direction.  Oh, a few people were going about their businesses, but as to what the old men were exactly staring at was uncertain.  Few people ventured to talk to the pair as they often gave odd responses to questions.

However, the youth secretly observing them from the cover of the inn, Charlie Thompson, (who kept tabs on them every day, and an impressively long and detailed journal on his subjects), may have had a good working guess.  He had a theory that the old men were in fact some sort of human-like autonomous constructs that only ever sat around and observed people, reacting if needed.  On Charlie’s shoulder, a reddish/brown and white weasel sat and looked at the old men with an odd malevolence in its beady glare.  The youth tucked his notepad away in his overalls and ducked back around the building where he took to his heels, moving on to a new observation point.

Note, that while the misadventures of young Charlie and his intrepid weasel, Mr. Terrible, would have been the type of story one may want to read about…the pair would not play a part in the goings on of the day.  As the day marched on toward noon, the distant sound of thunder could be heard, and eventually the ground began to tremble.

The shake was steady, a low rumble at first, but slowly grew.  The old men seemed to not notice any of this as another old man came out of the commode along side the store and ventured over to where the old men sat.  Unlike the two on the bench, this man appeared grubby with a wild and unkept look to himself.  “What’ssh thissh sshaking all about?”  He inquired as he whistled his ‘s’ sounds through his few remaining teeth.

“One of them earthy quakers I recon.” Bill said casually.

Bob turned his head sharply to look at the new comer.  “In appropriate quotient reached.”  He blurted out.

Both of the other men looked at Bob, a note of alarm on the face of Bill that was shortly followed by a slight head tilt and widened eyes that conveyed a particular message.  Bob blinked, shook his head, and corrected himself.  “Err, I mean it is quite the whatser call it.”

Monty, the new comer to the porch, leaned against a pole and spat into the dirt.  “Look, you can sshee the rockssh dancing.”  He said with his whistling.

The ground was rumbling far more now.  “Everyone gets inside right now!”  A woman’s voice bellowed out a moment before they noticed a horse with said owner flying down the main road.  As she passed, she called out again.  “It’s the Milk Boys, their a stampeding into town!”  Her passing was like a wind, with little time for people to process what they had heard, let alone make out who was on the saddle.

The Milk Boys, an unusual gang of ruffians that would move into towns and run some sort scam or another and once they had gotten what they wanted out of things they would stampede out, leaving a very literal mess in their wake.  A few minutes after her passing, the gang arrived.  Cattle charged into town, each with a job, a task to perform.  The black and white dairy Holsteins spread out, one coming to stand in front of the doors of each building.  The grocery store, and sheriff’s office were completely surrounded within moments.

 “Cowssh don’t act like thissh.  Well thissh issh a right pickle we’re in.”  Monty whistled to the two benched old men.

“What type?”  Both old men asked in an odd unison, catching only the pickle analogy.

With the cows spread around town, and after several long minutes of work the Milk Boys themselves came into town.  A path within the cattle opened for the three of them as they rode their bulls in.  At the lead was their leader, Hulden Schmidt.  A large man, he looked like he was fresh from the farm.  His broad features were accented by his equally bushy beard, milk stained overalls, and tufts of straw poking out from everywhere.  Behind him followed the other two members of the gang.

Ronny Schmidt, youngest of the three, was the sort who liked to cause trouble.  He was bald, and his eyes shifted back and forth, taking in and marking places he could cause mischief.  One eye twitched uncontrollably.  Something was off about Ronny, everyone knew it.  He too wore overalls, but no shirt.

Finally, there was Lenya Schmidt, the only girl of the boy’s gang.  She was dressed like a stereotypical dairy maid, her golden curly hair bouncing lightly under the white bonnet.  A beauty that belonged in advertisement than a top a bull.  She glared disdainfully at the old men as they watched the trio ride in.  Unlike her two brothers, whom were covered in dried milk, and assorted patches of mud, straw, grime and a pervading smell of cow, Lenya appeared clean to the point that her dress may as well have been making a ‘ting’ sound whenever the light fell upon it in a certain way.  Her bull was also the only one with a saddle.

Around town, people stood on balconies (if there were any), remained on porches if that was where they were, and those that couldn’t get out of a building were sticking their heads out of windows.  The gang leaders came to a stop in the middle of the town, roughly in front of the tavern.  Holden cupped his hands around his mouth to boom his voice out more.

“We’re the Milk Boys!”  He yelled.  A small cough from Lenya brought about a quick addition.  “And our beloved sister whom we respect and admire.”

Lenya nodded her head in satisfaction.  Every man knows who really wears the pants in a healthy family dynamic, and it is never them.  They just need to be reminded every once in a while.

Hulden continued his monologue.  “From now on, all of this town’s milk belongs to us.  Your cows will be induc…indorc…made one of us.”  He said with a nod of self-satisfaction at a job of verbal juggling well resolved.

“You monsters!”  A woman cried from the upstairs window of the grocers.  “How will our children get their strong bones now!”

“And just how will we eat our cookies.  Tain’t proper to eat cookies without a cup o’ milk.”  Another voice chimed in.  A general din of disapproval came from the people now that someone had spoken up.

Lenya spoke up now, her voice was melodious.  “Listen here you [censored] gits!  You’ll [censored] do what we [censored] say or else we’ll [censored] [censored] you with your own [censored] cows!”  She said.  Though melodious in tone, her manners would give a sailor a reason to blush.

 “Did you hear thossh odd beepssh whenever sshe tried to sshay a bad word?”  Monty whistled at the benched old men.

“Multiple Children detected; speech patterns redacted.”  Bob said, his eyes gleaming with an unearthliness, and promptly got an elbow from his companion again.  “Fairies…must have been fairies.”  He corrected, the gleam immediately leaving his eyes.

While this all occurred, Ronny had vanished off the top of his bull.  Had anyone checked the commodes at that moment they would have found him there with a hammer and a fist full of nails.

Hulden raised his arms amidst the bray of voices and motioned for silence.  “Now then, you have nothing to worry about – so long as you buy your milk from us.”

At this point a din of questions were hurled in his direction, since it was possible that here was a chance to get milk at a bargain.  Hulden, mentally unprepared for this ‘interest’, froze and in the depths of his mind had something of a mental seizure.  Lenya on the other hand simply smiled, as the dam that was her patience was rapidly moving to the point of bursting again.

At the same time that the cows had finished encircling the buildings, Sheriff Andrew Bulwark, had quickly deduced that there were several problems for himself in all of this.  First his hefty paunch would not be able to move past the trio of cows that were parked on his porch.  The back entrance was equally guarded.  In a town where the worst crime was drinking to much and a forced lesson on aided flight, the sheriff had plenty of time to sample the various pies and meals that his wife made.

“Jimmy!”  He called out in his robust voice.

His deputy, Jimmy Harker, made an audible jump from where he watched things from the second floor.  After a moment the deputy fell down the stairs.  He was fairly young, had a good sharp mind, and fast hands – a good thing for a lawman.  But the most important thing at this moment was that he was skinny, all knees and elbows as his mother had put it.  “You called sheriff?”  He inquired once he picked himself up.

“I can’t get out, but I reckon you can.”  Sheriff Bulwark said.  “Go get him, there’s no other choice.”

The lanky deputy swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly, but he smiled regardless of his nerves.  Knowing not to stand around gabbing about it, he moved to the backdoor.  The Holsteins waiting outside reared back their legs and kicked, they’d been waiting for this.  But they had been expecting a slow and very large sheriff, not the lanky – yet agile – deputy.  Hoofs slammed into the door seconds after the deputy dove and rolled out of the way.

Well that was a close one!  He thought.  Picking himself up was ever a choir, but he made short work of it, after all he did have a lot of practice at this.

The cows had been trained to keep people in, not about what to do if someone got out.  One cow mood this question to the other.  The equivalent response was like that of a shoulder shrug, and the two continued to stand guard as Deputy Harker took off at a sprint.  The river wasn’t far away, so a horse wasn’t needed, plus the place was quite full of cows, which made his lone traversal far easier than it would have been with a horse.

Soon he was tumbling down the river bank and into the water.  While agile, relatively smart, and quick, he was not well coordinated.  As he picked his soaking wet self-up, a head surfaced in the river.  Ears twitched as the large eyes regarded him.

“There you are Hercules, it’s the Milk Boys, we need your help!”  The deputy said.

The head surfaced and regarded the deputy for a moment before nodding its amicable understanding.  Then Hercules was moving to the river bank, and once up next to where a large white cowboy hat rested, he made movement that defied metaphysical explanations that put it upon his head. With his hat on, Hercules charged down the road with the deputy legging it behind him.  On the hat, a silver badge shown like a golden sun from the reflected light, the words ‘SPECIAL RANGER’ were stamped into the metal circle around the star of the badge.

The first warning anyone had that someone was approaching was a steady pounding of the ground that was the work of a lone being and not a herd.  Ronny Schmidt felt it as he was nailing shut the doors of another commode, his second one for the day.  As a teen he found this all to be in good fun, never mind the fact that he might have a need to use one of those commodes himself in the very near future.

Shrugging at the odd feeling, he went back about his work, hammering in another pair of nails.  There was so much fun to be had in watching people panic because they were seconds away from messing themselves.  He stopped when an odd rumbling bellow, “HUR-HUR-HUR-RUMPH” sounded out from somewhere close by.  Ronny looked up from his work and looked around, the rumbling of the ground was more pronounced now.

After only a moment of investigation, a massive grey shape drifted to a sliding stop and charged at Ronny, whom pulled ineffectually at the commode door.  The form bowled him over as if he were nothing.  Had he not nailed the door closed he could have hidden in there, a fact he would reflect upon to his personal specter of Death, whom had to explain that it would have done him no good at that point since the commode was in ruins as well.

The cacophony of noise drew the attention of the remaining Schmidt’s, and the cows who in the outlying areas had already started to panic upon seeing the legend.  They knew who Hercules was, and as dumb as cows could be, they knew that it was time to beat hoof and leave town, and so word spread fast with ‘moos’ of fear.

Hulden had enough time to come out of his mental coma to regard the grey shape that was bellowing ‘HUR-HUR-HUR-RUMPH’ as it charged down the road!  The cattle were already panicking at the appearance of Hercules and knew that this street was not where they wanted to be.  Thrown from the back of the bull as it turned, took a few steps, and reared up to get rid of the extra weight.  Hulden’s fall was only broken by the fresh steamer his bull had just made.  Unfortunately, this didn’t save him from the trampling that followed, his death only sighed despairingly at him as he reentered his mental paralysis, unable to process his new state.

Lenya, on the other hand, was not so incumbered with mental coma.  “Is that a [censored] hippo!”  Such were the last words of many a villain who crossed paths with all four tons of the great Hercules.  Her own diatribe of now uncensored cursing at this unusual hero were spoke in the afterlife to her own version of Death as the specter waited patiently, she’d heard worse, but not by much.

“Thank you, Hercules!”  The sheriff wheezed as he came out to greet the returning Hippo from his vanquishing of the invaders.  The deputy was ever several dozen steps behind the massive animal as it sauntered up to the sheriff.  It gave an appreciative ‘hurrumph’ and nod of its massive head before walking past him and the growing throng of citizens whom had come out to thank their hero as he returned to the river.

“Funny how a Hippo’s a Ranger, doesn’t seem right really.”  The deputy said to the Sheriff.  This also incurred similar response from the citizens who were close enough to pick up on the comment.

Turning slighting, the sheriff gave him a look.  “From my understandin, he wanted to be one.  Word from the wise, don’t argue with a hippo.”

From their place on the porch, the two old men looked at each other; Bill spoke first.

“Well that was something new.”

“Quantum anomalies were detected…err and there’s something not right with that hippo.”  Bob said, and at this Bill palmed his face in a gesture of exasperation.  Monty missed the conversation.

Meanwhile, Charlie, from his new vantage point from under the porch, made some more notes.  When he was done, he crawled back along the trench he’d spent days making and took off running. “Golly Mr. Terrible, I’m more certain now than ever that they ain’t normal people.”

Mr. Terrible, from his usual vantage point on Charlies shoulder, said in a voice that dripped with the darkness of one who has done unspeakable and truly terrible things.  “Ah, who truly is my boy.”

Copyright: "The Trouble With Milk" Sean Ropp 2019

My Writing Class Final Project - Short Story Draft #3

So the semester is over and the final writing project has been submitted.  This story is the 3rd draft of the first.  For those who don't know, writing stories is a process of making many drafts.  So this is hardly a final draft of what the story could become.  The great thing about what's come from this class is that I was told by the instructor that I should look into publishing.

Well I'll be doing that, but first I gotta share it with those who take time to follow creations.

Legal:  The short story below is my own creation, any resemblance to character's living or dead is purely coincidental.  The following short story is an original creation by me (Sean Ropp), and is my  intellectual property.  No distribution my legally occur without my expressed consent.

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Death is a Bugger

By: Sean Ropp (03/20/2019)

He heaved out a heavy sigh.  The reflection in the bathroom mirror was not one that inspire confidence. Another sigh escaped as he examined the paunch that was his gut which seemed larger than it had been the other day. It must have been his imagination.  His hand strayed up to the goose egg of a scar on his chest and rubbed at it.  It felt like something was growing, painfully, under the skin. He had taken a shower and strayed away to give the room time to clear of steam, but the self-examination only made him wish that the mirror was still obscured.

He remembered how he acquired the scar, a mishap of his youth involving his old dog, a squirrel, and not being ready for just how strong and determined that dog had been to get its quarry.  She had dragged him for a few short feet through the gravel of the alley they ventured down.  These days alley ways were often paved, but twenty some years ago you got dirt and sharpened gravel instead.  His shirt, torn, bloodied from the scrapes and cuts, while that one spot on his chest had been the lucky recipient of its very own souvenir to take home.

Glancing down and opening a drawer, he pulled out a tube of hydrocortisone cream.  Maybe if he had gone to the hospital to get it cleaned out properly back then it wouldn’t be giving him problems now.  He squeezed out a dab of the cream like toothpaste on a couple of fingers and immediately massaged it in, grateful for the relief it would eventually bring.  Of course, the dark pink scar was not egg shaped, but more like a guitar shape. Well from a certain point of view it looked like one.

Once thin and fit, a soldier in the U.S. Army, he hardly looked the cut of a soldier now.  Exercising wasn’t something he ever enjoyed and seeing how he worked in an office as a security consultant he found excuses to not stay fit.  At least he had the day off, plenty of time to sulk and lament upon the long lost six pack.  He also needed to go get groceries, and the sunny day meant shelving the lamentations for later.  With his attention focused on the scar as he applied another dab of ointment, he was only faintly aware of the barely open door behind him swinging in further as someone entered.  He was home alone, and his wife should not be off work for another six hours.

He turned, the man he faced looked almost like himself, save for a few distinctions.  His doppelganger was dressed in mostly tight-fitting clothing that accented his muscular physique.  The face, so much like his own, differed in that a long scar curved across from the corner of his upper lip to just below the corner of his left eye.  His eyes drifted down now to what the man had leveled at him, an odd pistol.

“What the hell?”  Was all he got out as his twin pulled the trigger.

~~~~

His senses burst with the pain of a red-hot needle jamming through his chest!  Dimly aware from the flare of pain, he noticed the weapon emitted only a high pitch screech with greenish-white light.  There was no recoil for the pistol, and the impact did not shove him back like a bullet impact would.  Smoke curled up to fill his nose with a scent of something akin to cooked pork and beef with a heavy overlaying charcoal scent.

            His eyes drifted down and looked at the small smoking hole that had been punched through him, through his scar.  “I just put ointment on that.”  He found himself saying as the strength poured from his body as if someone had just cut the bottom off a balloon to let all the air out.  He crumpled and sagged against the towel rack, ripping pulling towels and it down with him.  His mind reeled, color drained from him, and his thoughts drifted to his wife.  She would come home to find him like this!  Damn, he forgot the flush the toilet!  He never flushed when he was done since the scar had pained him at that necessary point.  Why was he not more worried for his wife?

            Casually, his assassin turned his attention to the ointment that was laying on the floor from where it fell.  He picked it up and examined it.  Then tucking the pistol under an arm, he turned his attention to the mirror and began to apply cream to the ugly scar that ran across his face.  Maybe where ever he was from, they didn’t have any hydrocortisone cream.  Maybe what was there required violent conflicts in order to get just a bit, and this poor schlep just did not know better.

            His right hand flailed uselessly at the wound.  The killer regarded him a new as his vision was starting to fade now.  With a sighed the pistol was leveled at his head.  He said something, about his wife, the toilet maybe?  It was impossible to say as his mind was blistering with pain and lack of focus.

            The doppelganger nodded silently after a moment of contemplation, he was agreeing to something.  He turned, reached, and flushed the toilet. Once more the pistol came up, and instantly turned to black in what was all but the breadth of a hair of time.

In a place far removed from any mortal existence, someone cursed, and slammed a pair of bony hands down on a keyboard.  “Bugger it! I should have seen that coming!”  The being said.  With a sigh he hammered away at the keyboard for a few moments, correcting the mistakes that had been made with his outburst.  Only these bits could be changed, everything else, however, was set in stone once put down.

Black robes, robes that seemed to be alive and made from writhing shadows and darkness seemed to react to his mood, rippling with his irritation.  He finished his work in what one would perceive to be only a few seconds, he stood and was also no longer there in the next moment.

Two other hooded heads poked up from over a wall, seeing him go.  They looked at each other then they too were no longer there.

Most people believe that when you die you see a bright light, pearly gates, a black sand desert, flames, pits of agony, and other colorful scenes.  The man saw only darkness.  The pain was gone, and he felt like he was as light as a feather, solid, and yet not wanting to scream and lament upon what was just stolen from him.

~~~~

“This is most inconvenient.”  A voice said after what felt like an hour of being adrift in this sea cool of darkness.  Wait, a voice, but he was dead?  The voice was deep, masculine, and seemed to echo from everywhere in a manner that made his teeth – if he had teeth – want to vibrate.  It was a tone of voice that seemed to come with a feeling of ‘foreboding’ and was impossible to ignore.  “Open your eyes already, we must get on with it.”

The man opened his eyes, and he was not sure just how he had, the sensation was different.  He was also standing, or floating, (it was hard to say which), and his body was gone.  Well the flesh and blood one was gone, his current one had a translucent nature to itself, easy to notice when he looked down at himself.  The bathroom was still there, but was it his imagination or did it seem bigger now?  This was oddly the first thing he noticed; the second thing being the apparition that stood before him.  Its swirling black cloak had a hood pulled over a human skull that was…frowning.  Present in the skeletal beings’ hands was a scythe that seemed like some sort of impossibly ornate reaping scythe, beautiful to behold, but frightening beyond comprehension as well.

How could a skull frown?  He thought, and the eyes, no eye balls, but those eyes that bore into him were like two brilliant distant stars that cut through the darkness of the sockets they sat in, unsettling him more than a skull that could frown.

“This is inconvenient, and I should have seen it coming – BUGGER IT!  Everyone has an appointed date, and now its all buggered up!  The paperwork alone…”  The being said trailing off in his own lamentations.  This Death was not as he had been expecting.

“Sorry, but I was the one shot!”  The man said heatedly.  “Bit more inconvenient for me I’d say.”

Death looked around and slumped his shoulders.  “And he’s gone too, that would figure.  He’s outside of our providence after all.”  Death regarded him now.  “John Anderson, I do apologize for the unscheduled death.  You will receive compensation for this inconvenience.”

He wanted to rage and scream, and while there was a feeling of anger, irritation, and even sadness it was not the over powering emotion he would have once felt, like he could easily express, control, or just dismiss them if he wanted to.

“I feel like I should be screaming, and I’m not, why?”  John asked.

“You no longer possess a body. Thus, you no longer possess glands and their chemicals that impose uncontrolled emotional outbursts in you humans while you live.”  Death explained.

Odd as it was, he processed this in mere moments, and accepted it.  An odd sense of logic, or untapped mental potential was starting to settle into his mind.  It was like he could make use of that mythical one hundred percent of his mental capabilities.  Although he knew that such claims had long been refuted, he could not help but feel that maybe, just maybe, with the trappings of life gone, all that mental power could now be put to the full use people thought possible.  And with this understanding came a question he wanted answered – why him?  Then another, why had he been killed, and then who the hell was that duplicate of himself?

~~~~

Death sighed helplessly.  “You can’t imagine the trouble this is.  And we all got the memo!  I’m such a fool.  At least I haven’t-“  He started, but was cut off as another Death suddenly was there like he/it, had always been there.  A flash of motion and its scythe was imbedded into the chest of his Death!

“OH BUGGER!”  His Death bellowed helplessly as he suddenly dissipated in swirls of shadow and darkness that was almost like smoke.

This new Death looked the same as the previous one, though the presence it seemed to exude was decidedly different, almost inquisitive.  “Hey now, why’d you kill him?”  John asked.

Death number two, regarded the room intently.  As it did so, it spoke to John presenting a male persona like his original Death, though he noted a British accent to Death’s voice.  “It was necessary, though you are foolish to assume that your Death is dead.  I simply forced his return.  Now then, I require the input for which I can make sticky grey earth into square blocks.”

Another Death now appeared and looked about in a flustered manner for a moment before regarding number two.  “No sign of the blighter.”  Death number three said.  “He’s scarpered like the others.”  This Death also had the same decidedly British mannerism as well, though like number two he exuded his own differing presence.

“Umm, could one of you explain to me what’s going on?  I mean, I was just killed by myself after all.”  John asked, not holding the irritation completely out of his voice.

The two looked at each other then back at John.  “Your inquiry is understandable.”  Death number two started.  “There exists an infinite number of probable possibilities of realities that is known in human terms as the multiverse.  A quantum disruption of the reality matix has occurred within the possibility continuum that has resulted in the unexpected expirations of too many mortal beings before their ascribed time.”

The response John gave was a look of utter confusion.  Death number three sighed and swatted his companion on the shoulder.  “That’s not answering his question.”  He said pointedly.

“But it did. It is not his fault that he cannot facility an understanding of what he is adjoined to.”  Death two said.

Death three moved a bit closer to John, again those eyes bore into him, though not in an unkind way he felt.  “Some persons have broken across the boundaries of realities. They are killing variations of themselves as they go.  You my friend are another unfortunate victim in all this.”

It was strange, he became aware that the robes of these two weren’t really robes.  Both seemed to be wearing some sort of suit, with number three having an old-fashioned bowler hat on while number two seemed to be wearing two baseball caps, one facing forward and the other backwards.

Death three continued on.  “To what end this will all play out is what my associate and I are aiming to learn.”

Number two seemed to smile, as disturbing as it was to see, and his starry eyes twinkled.  “The game is a body part with which one walks with.”  He intoned.

~~~~

“You mean a foot?”  John asked.

Death two nodded.  “Indeed, that is the appendage.”

John sighed in frustration and stalked about the limited space.  “This is all well and good, but what am I supposed to do? Do I get a mulligan, or do I get to join in on this hunt?  You’re the damn experts, guides for the departed and all that. Well guide me!”  He said bitterly and gesturing to the two of them.

The two were silent, looking at each other as if in some sort of silent communication.  John’s hand drifted to the scar on his chest, and oddly found it there – well with a hole now added into it.  It hadn’t itched or hurt but an odd compulsion had gripped him to rub at it.  He really took stock of his appearance now since his two companions were otherwise engaged. The flab of his past self was gone and now he physically seemed to be as how he had been in his prime.  Well this was certainly proof that dying was the ultimate weight loss program.

“You wish to help?”  Death two asked.

“Damn right I do, if that’s even possible.”  John said, pulling his attention back from his altered physique.

There was a knocking at the bathroom door that made John jump, and only a moment passed before the door opened and yet another Death entered.  John was not surprised by this, it was only a matter of time before another one showed up, he guessed.  This one was dressed in similar flowing ethereal ‘un-material’ as the others.  This suit seemed to be more defined, but it was shifting between a masculine cut and a more feminine one.  The suits and hats of the other two were detailed but lacked the clear defining impressions of this one.  Death number four also wore nothing upon its skeletal head and seemed to have an overall more pleasant demeanor.

“Sorry boys, but this is all taking too long and we need to get this darling moving along.”  She said.   The voice seemed like that of a southern woman, but there was an underlying quality to it as well that gave the impression that a subtle shift in tone could pitch the voice to being more male, or far more distinctly as a female than as how her presence seemed to convey.  More over the voice lacked that ‘from everywhere’ quality that the others were all using.

“Our palaver is not done.”  Number two, or…Holms as John was distinctly starting to think of him as, said.  “He may be of use to us.”  The Holms Death said, his voice also seemed to draw back, sounding more normal like that of Death four.

“Well done or not, love, he has to move along.  It’s not like you’re in a big hurry after all.  Let’s get him squared away like the others and we’ll see if this darling can get approved to help.”  Death four said.

Death three, and if he was going to call the one Holms why not this one Watson, spoke up.  “She is right Death, we can afford to wait.  It’s not as if time were meaningful to us.”

Time not meaning full, then why not just go back to before I died and put a stop to this whole mess?  John thought heatedly but stayed his tongue.  Lash out could be a mistake with these three, especially since he did not know what would happen if he did.

~~~~

Number four gestured at him.  “Come along now, lets get you to your desk.”

He followed her out of the doorway, stepping through a wall of darkness that gave way to blinding light.  When his sight returned a moment later, he was standing amidst cubicles.  John glanced around and behind him.  In all directions for as far as he could perceive there stretched endless rows of cubicles. It was like looking upon the ocean and seeing it stretch out to the horizon.

“Welcome to the bureaucracy of the hereafter.  Don’t worry sugar, we’ll get you orientated.”  She said in a mater-of-fact tone and welcoming gesture.

John looked and around to see into the cubicles around him, or at least some of them.  The cubicles were larger than a typical one he’d seen and used in offices.  And ones that he could not see into were obscured by some sort of thick fog.  In the other cubicles, Deaths like the one he had first met, typed away at computers.  Little to no decorations were present in them, though one had a pair of crystal vases with one live flower in one and a dead one in another.  There was even a ‘hang in there’ cat poster in another cube.

Death took him by the shoulder and started to walk him along, her touch was unsettling on his shoulder, and he noticed that he was no longer translucent.  “I know that your hurt, confused, and want your life back – but that can’t happen honey.”  She said.  Her mannerisms reminded him of a woman he once knew, Darlene had been her name, and the name he quickly applied to this new Death.

“Now each Death is a fragment of the big boss, the Death of all things.”  She started.  “The boss found the work tedious to go and reap every blade of grass, insect, tree, so on and so on.  So, it created fragments of itself, and set them to all things that live.  We’re each our own Death, but under it all we are the original Death as well.”

They walked for a time, he spoke briefly of his naming of them (which amused her), and she took far longer to explain things. Breaking it down, first and again, he wasn’t the only victim in this.  Second, he would, like all who die, get his own cubicle and computer.  Oh, he would be compensated for cosmic mishap, but there would be no returning to life – unless he wanted to roll the dice on reincarnation.  Each Death also did not have issues with names like mortals did, even if they were all Death. Inflection and mental awareness of whom they were talking about was easily conveyed to another Death, much like having a name of a mortal.  But she understood his imposition in this.

“You’re not the only one confused by this, though you’re the first that Holms and Watson, as you call them, has taken an interest in.  Maybe it’s because this time they were close to one of the rule breakers.”  She said as the continued upon their long and uneventful walk.

There was a sudden loud ‘THUMP’ followed by a Death standing up abruptly from one of the cubicles.  “You bastard!”  She yelled, still direct and no hint of the resounding voice that the first three used.

~~~~

From an adjoining cubicle another Death stood and held up its bone hands as if to ward her off.  “Don’t blame me, he’s the bastard.”  He said, and John noticed that the voice and demeanor of this death was like one would assume a weaselly used car dealer to have.

“Oh, don’t hand me that, you could have interceded and filled out the proper form before he killed her.  Its not like you owe me one or anything like that!”  She said.  With a gesture the scythe appeared, and she faded away.  A lingering “bastard” hung in the air.

Darlene Death’s unsettling bony hand rested on his shoulder once more and urged him onward.  Around them more Deaths reacted to the lives of those they observed in different ways.  She explained how each Death recorded the life story of each living thing, another tedium the boss passed on to them, and that once a passage was entered, it could not be changed, unless there was an accidental entry that did not pertain to the life being recorded.  They could only see the here and now of time.  They could look to the past and see what had happened, yes indeed, but never the future.  On the other hand, they could break from recording a life.  Other lives could continue to be recorded, and the Death could come back and catchup with others in what one would perceive to be only seconds worth of work.

He stopped walking, and Darlene stopped as well.  “Hey, listen this is all interesting, but I want to help get this guy.  I mean there has to be something I can do to help.”  He said.

Darlene placed a hand along her chin and seemed to think about this for a moment before shaking her head.  Suddenly they were no longer in the endless field of cubicles, but in a simple office like one he used to work in.  He shook his head in disorientation as she opened a file on her desk, not having moved at all to get it from the filing cabinets from what he could perceive. Not there one moment, there the next.

“Well there has been a president for it before…but the paper work is staggering sugar.”  She said as she flipped through the file.  “As helpful as you could be, it would be impossible for you to help right now.”

He was about to protest when she held up a hand, stopping him.  “You’re mortal and know nothing of how things work here.  Yes, you have knowledge and skill, but you’re not the first or only victim in this hoopla.  And you’re…fresh, too fresh to help.”

John’s hand again drifted unbidden to the scar, rubbing at it as he fumed inwardly.  There had to be a way to help!  He may have been some fat guy in life, but he was never one to sit on the side and let others do work he could do.  There had to be something, anything he could do; a way to return to his life!

Suddenly they were back amongst the cubicles.  If he had a stomach he would have vomited, instead there was only a disorientation like before.  “Could…could you not do that again…please.”  He said queasily.

“Sorry, I don’t get a lot of customer interaction, so to speak.  We’re at your stop anyway.”  She said.

~~~~

John looked at the cubicle, a black computer, monitor and its accompanying gadgets waited for him in the other wise sparse cubicle.  Her turned back quickly to Darlene.  “Listen, I can help, I just want my life back, that’s all.  I’ll do anything to help stop all this!  Please, there has to be a way!”  He said, desperation coming too readably to his voice though he had tried to repress it.

Darlene favored him with a sympathetic look, if a skull could look sympathetic.  “Just how do you think you can help?”  She asked and waited a moment for him to respond.  When he didn’t, she continued.  “Tracking these incursions is like tracking white cats in a blizzard while blindfolded.  We don’t see it happen until we have it put down.  Death, I mean Holms, believes he sees a pattern.  I think he’s full of himself.  You are new, you have had only what I’ve told you to learn from and even that is a drop in the bucket of what you would need to know to help.”

She moved him into the cubicle and pressed him down into the seat that hadn’t been there a moment ago.  He felt what hope he had been clinging to eb away.  Then he caught his emotions, she hadn’t explicitly said no to him helping at all.  No, he was new here and if there was one thing you always did with new people you hired on, (or planed too), it was to give them an orientation.  You didn’t just say, ‘Hi I know you’re new here, but I need the Smith report done by Thursday, oh and I need you to come in on Saturday, the Jones account needs some attention.  So, I’ll just put you down for the whole weekend then, great.  See you around slugger.’

His mind kicked up to speed and all that processing power that was now at his disposal came to bear on his dilemma.  John was right in his assumption, he had to be.  His new existence had rules that he was ignorant of, but there was a chance to join in somehow.  He glanced to the computer and found that it was already on, and the screen and operating system was like that of a standard Windows PC, and open on that screen was a PDF file.  Its title read:

‘So, you died early. What you need to know and what happens next.’

Glancing back, Darlene Death was gone.  She may not have been a people person, but none of the Deaths were he thought.  Holms and Watson Death were likely not as sharp as they thought themselves to be, in that he agreed with Darlene.  John pursed his lips and bent over the keyboard and mouse.  Unbidden the quote that Holms Death had screwed up flowed into his mind, ‘Data! Data! Data! I cannot make bricks without clay.’

Indeed, there were bricks to be baked here, and an infinite number of Deaths who were too self-absorbed, such as the other two Deaths (Eve and Adam as he could consider them), that they would not see the iceberg until they hit it!  The clarity, the lines of logical detail that he was thinking across were so succinct that he wondered where they had been all his life!

“Your mind was busy operating a sack of meat and glands.”  He said mostly to himself, and he laughed.  With a shake of his head and renewed hope, of a sort, he tucked into this orientation document.  He doubted he was alone in this task, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try something.  Every journey began with a step.

Absentmindedly, his hand drifted up and rubbed at the scar that was ever present on his chest.  Unknowingly, across a spectrum of infinite cubicles, amongst the living in an unending expanse of all probabilities and possibilities, others who bore the same, or at least a similar scar – all rubbed at theirs as well.  And somewhere, another Death, or maybe it was the same one, yelled “Bugger it!”

Copyright: "Death is a Bugger" Sean Ropp 2019

Starfinder Conversion - The Strider Character Class

Well it's taken me a bit too long to get this up, but nothing to be done for it.  A new semester of college has started so it takes much of my free time away.  As many of you may already know, one of the classes is a fictional writing class.  So my writing is often focused toward the class than other pursuits.  Once I get my assessment of my first short story, (tomorrow), I'll edit it and hopefully find time to post it here to the blog for folks to read.

In the meantime I added a few extra things to my Strider conversion that wasn't there before, so it took a little longer once again to get it posted.

STRIDER

STAMINA POINTS 6 + Constitution Mod.

6 HP

Some claim to be warriors.  Some claim to be shadows in the night.  But none can truly claim to be a Strider.  Striders are mercenaries that follow a creed to maintain their contractor’s identity a secret even after the contracts end.  And while Striders are very mercenary in the jobs they take on, many are fairly ethical and do not support despots, thugs, warmongers, and more seedier types.  Though those that run on a less ethical path don’t care much about who they take work from.

KEY ABILITY SCORE

Your Dexterity helps with a great many things that a strider is capable of doing ranging from acrobatic feats to deflecting attacks with their “cypher sword”.  All other stats are equally important to a strider and help them to cover different skill sets and requirements for missions that they take on.

CLASS SKILLS

Skill Ranks per Level

6 + Intelligence Modifier

Acrobatics (DEX) Athletics (STR) Bluff (CHA) Computers (INT) Engineering (INT) Mysticism (WIS)

Perception (WIS) Profession (CHA, INT, or WIS) Sense Motive (WIS) Sleight of Hand (DEX) Survival (WIS) Stealth (DEX)

PROFICIENCIES

ARMOR PROFICIENCIES

Light Armor

WEAPON PROFICIENCIES

Basic and Advanced Melee Weapons, Small Arms, Grenades

SPECIAL-A CLASS (EX)

A Strider who is of the Special-A Class is a rank above others in the Strider organization.  As a Strider of this rank your physical capabilities and skills beyond that of normal people.  Each Strider has different skill sets and capabilities and often focus their advanced training on developing these traits.  Choose 2 of the following options to make up part of your Special-A Class capability set.  Every 3 levels you can choose one new capability which can add to an existing capability.

·         Speedy Movement:  Increase your ground speed by 10ft.  However, you must be wearing no armor or at most light armor to use this.

·         Throwing Arts:  The range at which you can throw appropriate weapons/objects is increased by 10ft.

·         Focused Fighting Arts:  Choose a weapon that you are proficient with and apply a +1 to attack rolls made with it. When taken again this applies to a new weapon.

·         Unarmed Arts:  When unarmed you are treated as if you were armed.  Your base unarmed damage is 1d4 instead of 1d3.   If taken again you add an additional 1d4 to the damage you roll.

·         Heightened Strength:  Your Bulk limit for your Strength score is increased by 2.  You also deal +1 damage with melee attacks.

·         Heightened Dexterity:  Add a +1 to your Reflex Saving throws vs. AOE based attacks.

·         Heightened Constitution:  You gain a +1 to Fort Saves vs. Poison’s & Diseases.

·         Heightened Intelligence:  You may choose an INT based class skill of yours that you do not have ranks in to gain 2 ranks in, or if you have all of your INT based skill with ranks in them you may instead apply a +1 to a single chosen skill.

·         Heightened Wisdom:  You are not easily caught off guard or unaware. You gain a +1 to Skill rolls made to detect traps or ambushes by others.

·         Heightened Charisma:  You are very personable and know how to interact with others.  You gain a +1 to a single chosen CHA based skill.

HARNESS PLASMA (SU)

At level 1 Striders possess the special ability to create and channel plasma (electricity & heat), and thus make use of various specialized pieces of equipment that they are taught how to make so that they can make full use of this capability.  All Strider’s start with the ability to channel the plasma energy, and as time goes on, they learn how to enhance and generate more plasma.  Channeling plasma is done in one of the below noted ways, but they can only be done one at a time.

·         Cypher Plasma Sword:  This dual handled sword is designed to be wielded with one or two hands in a more traditional way, or with one hand in a method meant to allow for speed and precision, as well as improved guarding when used for this purpose.  When the blade is swung it often leaves a distortion in the space it passes through.  Plasma channeled through the cypher sword makes the damage it deals Fire based when used for this purpose instead of the standard damage type.  Every 5 levels the Strider also deals an additional d8 in damage when using the weapon.  This extra damage applies to only a single attack.

·         Plasma Catapult:  A Strider possesses the ability to expel plasma in a manner that allows for quick actions and movements.  The released plasma for the catapult is focused through the feet to propel the Strider in the direction they intend.  Accelerated motion allows the character to either increase their base ground movement by 20ft, or if jumping you may add 10ft to the amount of remaining movement you have.  The alternative use for this is to allow you to change direction of a jump in mid air and move the extra 10ft in that direction instead of just going for height/distance.

·         Plasma Kunai:  The Strider can generate throwing blades known as kunai that are bolts of plasma that are hurled at enemies.  The damage is 1d4 fire & electric damage with the damage increasing by 1d6 at levels 5, 10, 15, and 20.  On a critical hit you apply Burn 1d6 to the target (damage for this increase’s at level 9, and 18 by 1d6).  The range of these is thrown (20ft).

·         Custom Weapon:  The Strider has chosen to break from tradition and is making use of their own custom weapon.  This is any weapon in the book that the Strider would be proficient with, one weapon is modified by the Strider (taking 1 hour) to work with their plasma channeling abilities.  This essentially grants the same benefits of the Cypher Plasma Sword for the other weapon.  However, the damage bonus is a d6 with ranged weapons.  The Strider can only have 1 custom weapon at a time that is modified for this.  Any Strider feature that provides benefits for the cypher sword also apply to the custom weapon if the strider has one in stead of their cypher. 

NOTE:  Cyphers are not commonly available swords for people to use.  They are specially made for Striders and are often made by the Strider operative themselves as part of their training.  While a normal person could use the sword to some degree, only a Strider can use the weapon to its full potential.  The price of the weapon is a measure of its value and possible cost to craft.  The swords tonfa like design makes it well adapted at making quick slashes & plunging strikes, but it also makes it incredibly well suited for guarding against other melee attacks, using either hilt and its own blade to guard with.

The swords have some electronics in them, but they are protected against EMP’s and many things that would affect tech-based weapons.  This is due to the fact that they are more or less analog weapons until the Strider applies their plasma channeling abilities to them.  Only Striders can make use of the weapon’s block special due to their training with the weapon, though anyone that puts in months of training could also learn to make use of the block special for the weapon, but this is left up to the GM.

A cypher is wielded in a tonfa like fashion with the blade swung out from the body and what would be the primary hilt laying along the forearm.  The sword can be wielded by its primary hilt with one hand or in a two-handed fashion.  If used with 2 hands you can up the damage dice type to d10’s instead of d8’s, but you lose out on speed doing this and cannot make use of the swords blocking capacity.

It should also be noted that Cyphers cannot become fusion weapons.  The technology that allows them to channel a Strider’s abilities interferes with such magics.

ARMOR DISCIPLINE (EX)

At level 2, Striders develop a capability of altering and adjusting armor to fit with their life style, so that it doesn’t inhibit their movement as it normally would as well as being comfortable enough to rest in for some lengths of time.  Armor check penalties for any light armor worn by the Strider is reduced by 1.  The Strider also adds 1 additional Up-Grade Slot to the armor.  Finally, the armor’s Max DEX Bonus allowed is increased by 1 as well.  These adjustments can only be made to the armor that the Strider is wearing and not another person’s.  It takes 6hrs to make these adjustments to a suit of armor, but you could make more than one suit for your use if you needed to.

UNCANNY AGILITY (EX)

This is the same class feature that the Operator has on page 94.

STRIDER TECHNIQUES

At 3^rd level the Strider comes into the development of special techniques that pertain to their trade.  At this level the character may choose 2 special techniques that they can use.  Another two techniques can be gained at levels 5, 7, 11, 15, and 19.  Each option can only be taken once, unless an advanced option is present, but you must have taken the base technique first.  Advanced options cannot be selected until level 7.

·         Blend (SU):  The Strider uses a mystic technique that allows them to conceal their appearance and blend in with normal people or groups.  To make use of this ability the character needs to use a full action.  Once used, the Strider can maintain the disguise for 2 minutes per Strider level.  Opponents that would be hostile toward the Strider will have to make a Will save before they can make a Perception skill roll to see through the illusion.  After the ability is used the ability cannot be used again until an equal length of time has passed.

o   Advanced Blend (SU):  The disguise can be maintained for 5 minutes per Strider Level instead of the normal 2.  The length of time before this can be used again remains like that of the base Blend (2 minutes per Strider level).

·         Unarmed Plasma Strike (SU):  When fighting unarmed you can channel your plasma into your unarmed strikes.  This is the same plasma damage bonus as to what you would apply to the custom weapon option under “Channel Plasma”.  The characters base unarmed damage is die type is increased by 1 step.

o   Advanced Unarmed Plasma Strike (SU):  Increase your base unarmed damage die type by one more step.

·         Studied Skill (EX):  If you spend 8hrs studying on a skill you gain an insight bonus of +2 to skill checks made with that skill.  You don’t have to apply this to a class skill.  The bonus lasts until you want to apply it to a new skill (which of course takes another 8hrs to study up on).

·         Heightened Awareness (EX):  Your difficult to catch off guard.  When subject to a surprise action, you apply a +2 to your Perception rolls to detect anything that could take a surprise action against you.

·         Nightvision (EX):  See Operative Class Feature, page 95.

·         Wide Slash (EX):  When two opponents are adjacent to each other you can make a single melee attack against both opponents.  Make one melee attack roll and compare the result to the AC of both opponents.  If the attack hits you deal damage to both opponents.

·         Blink of an Eye (EX):  When attacking with a cypher sword you can spend 1 Resolve Point as a reaction to reroll a missed attack roll with the weapon.

·         Espionage Expertise (EX):  When the character is engaging in an act of espionage (spying) you may apply a +2-insight bonus to applicable skill rolls made when engaging in this practice.

o   Advanced Espionage Expertise (EX):  If you fail at one of these skill rolls you can spend a Resolve point to reroll the appropriate skill.

·         Shadow Warrior (EX):  Your highly skilled at not being seen.  You gain a +2 to all of your Stealth skill rolls.  You can move at your normal speed when hiding and suffer half the penalty for doing so.

o   Advanced Shadow Warrior (SU):  If there are any shadows present you can use them to gain concealment even if the shadow would normally not be enough to do so.  You also suffer no penalties to moving at your normal speed when hiding.

·         Adamant Will (EX):  The character’s will is a fortress that is nigh impossible to break.  You cannot be intimidated easily where in the opponent making an intimidation roll against you, sees the DC increased by 5.  Additionally, when subjected to spells/powers that target a character’s mind (and require a Will Save), you gain a +2 bonus to your Will Save against the effect.

·         Bullet Throw (EX):  Any weapon you throw is done with proficiency even if it would be an improvised weapon for doing so.  Weapons that you are already proficient with throwing have their throwing range doubled.

·         Recharge (SU):  The character is able to use their plasma abilities to recharge the power cells of the weapon or device they are using.  This recharge’s a normal one-handed & two-handed weapon power cells to full capacity.  With heavy weapons and power armor the recharge is to half capacity.  This can be used 2 times in a day.

o   Advanced Recharge (SU):  This ability can be used an additional 2 times per day.

OPTION SUMMON (SU)

At 4^th level, Striders are all able create a hard-light projection device that can be set to one of 3 option types.  These types are broken up to type’s A, B, and C.  Each type makes use of a single pool of HP and stats, but the over all function of each option for the projector is different.  Note that if a number is gotten in decimal form, round down (even if this puts you at zero).

·         Stats:  The projector has the following stats.

o   HP:  5 x ½ the Strider’s Level

o   AC:  EAC & KAC are 10 + projection’s DEX mod + ½ the Strider’s Level

o   Ability Scores:  Based upon the chosen type.

o   Senses:  Darkvision 60ft, Low-Light Vision.

o   Immunities:  Construct Immunities

o   Saves:  Based upon the chosen type.

o   BAB:  ½ the Strider’s Level + STR or DEX Mod

o   Speed:  Based upon the chosen type.

·         A-Type:  This type is a support-based type.  Its purpose is to protect the user, provide support fire, and act as a support tool of some sort.

o   Basic Stats

§  Ability Scores:  STR -1, DEX +5, CON ---, INT +0, WIS +0, CHA +0

·         These do not increase with level and remain constant.

§  Saves:  REF (Strider’s Level + DEX mod), FORT & WILL (1/2 Strider’s level + CON/WIS modifier)

§  Size: Small

o   Speed:  This is equal to the user’s speed, but this is due to the fact that this option is always with in 5ft of the user and stays with in easy reach, so to speak, so that it can intercept attacks and thus act as a shield.

o   Features:  The A-Type can have two of the following features.

§  Point Defense Shield:  When deployed the Strider has a +2 to their AC scores vs. Ranged attacks.

§  Ranged Fire Support:  Integrated Blaster (1d6+5 E)

§  Platform:  The A-Type can act as a platform that can support just the Strider and negates the Strider’s fall if they should be falling or jumping down from a height.  The platform will descend safely at the user’s movement until they are with in 5ft of the ground.

§  Wall:  The A-Type assumes a stationary position to provide the Strider with cover that they or their allies can fire from behind.  This cover spans a 15ft wide span (or less).

o   Skills:  The A-Type does not possess any skills of its own but can function as a tool for a Strider to use to assist them in the use of their own skills.  Choose one of the following skills that the A-Type grants a +2-equipment bonus toward:

§  Computers:  The A-type has a built-in computer system that allows the Strider to use it as a computer terminal.  Its tier is effectively ½ the Strider’s level, but it cannot have any modules or upgrades added to it.  It effectively has Firewall, and Lockout countermeasures.

§  Engineering:  The A-Type can create hard-light tools for the Strider to use.

§  Survival:  The A-Type has an active scanner that can assist the user in surviving in the outdoors by detecting water, finding edible vegetation, finding tracks & so forth.

·         B & C-Types:  These types are combat-based types.  Its purpose is attack and potential transportation.  Unlike the A-Type, these types are able to move well beyond the vicinity of the Strider, up to 1 mile away.  The Strider is always in some form of contact with the type.

o   Basic Stats

§  Type B Ability Scores:  STR +4, DEX +2, CON ---, INT +0, WIS +0, CHA +0

§  Type C Ability Scores:  STR +2, DEX +4, CON ---, INT +0, WIS +0, CHA +0

·         These do not increase with level and remain constant.

§  Type B Saves:  FORT (Strider’s Level +4), REF & WILL (1/2 Strider’s level + DEX/WIS modifier)

§  Type C Saves:  REF (Strider’s Level + DEX mod), FORT & WILL (1/2 Strider’s level + CON/WIS modifier)

§  Size:  Medium

o   Speed:  30ft, 300ft, 30mph

o   Features:  The Type is often an animal form that is quick and hits hard.  The B-Type has the following Features.  One melee attack can be chosen, along with two other features.

§  Melee, Claws: 1d6+4 S

§  Melee, Heavy Handed:  1d4+4 B, can also grab and hold onto things and thus grapple.

§  Melee, Hoof Beat:  1d4+4 B, can trample a target.

§  Ranged Fire Support:  Integrated Blaster (1d6+5 E)

§  Ride Along:  The type can be ridden as a mount.

§  Double Attack:  With it’s chosen melee attack, the type can make two attacks.  Both attack rolls are made with a -4 to hit.

§  Recon:  The type can make Perception rolls on your behalf.  It acts as if it has binoculars and a laser microphone.  It makes Perception rolls with a bonus of +10 + ½ your Strider Level.  (The Strider has a device that allows them to view what is being seen by the type.)

§  Flight:  The type is flight capable and its Speed is instead it’s flight speed, and gains Full 550ft, 65 mph (hover).

§  Climb:  The type can scale sheer surfaces and structures as if it had the proper climbing tools to do so, gaining a +2 bonus to skill rolls needed to do this.

§  Invisibility:  The type can make use of the Invisibility spell (pg 236).  The spells effects are based off the Strider’s level.  It can use this spell a number of times per day equal 1/4^th the Strider’s level (no less than 1).  The spell also only effects the Type and nothing else.

HYPERSONIC (EX)

At level 5 the Strider is able to move, at least for short bursts of time, at hypersonic speeds.  Another name for this is the after-image technique.  During combat the Strider can, as a reaction, make use of the after-image technique.  Until the start of their next turn the Strider can add half their level (rounded down) to their Reflex saving throws and both AC’s.  Alternatively, the Strider can choose to double their base speed for 1 minute which give them the added benefit of a +2 to their AC’s as well.  But the Strider cannot use both options at the same time.  Hypersonic can be used a number of times per day equal to 1 per 5 character levels.  You can also expend a resolve point to gain an additional use per day.

PLASMA FORMS (SU)

At level 6 the Strider has learned to harness their plasma power in more focused and specialized ways.  Whatever weapon they’re wielding can be modified to handle channeling the plasma energy that Striders can wield.  This modification takes only a few hours of work.  On a cypher this modification isn’t needed as it’s inbuilt.  The strider can choose one form at a time, gaining a new form every 3 levels.  Only one plasma form can be used at a time.  The Strider can modify up to 3 items that they can channel these abilities toward.  This can include the Strider’s Plasma Kuni, or Unarmed Plasma Strike.  Plasma Forms can be used for a limited period of time after which they need to be recharged.  A new form can be chosen every 3 levels until all options are gained.

·         Repel:  The Strider is able to repel attacks made against them in a manner to wielding a shield.  The Strider, so long as they are wielding their modified weapon.  This grants a +2 to KAC or EAC (chosen when used).  If the weapon is their cypher, then they gain an additional +1.  When in use the cypher, or other weapon crackles with electricity.

·         Burst:  The Strider channels plasma to increase the damage they would deal with the weapon.  Damage of the weapon is fire based now (if it already isn’t) and increases by 1 die type.  And on a critical hit the weapon does Burn 2d12 in addition to any other critical effect that is used.  If the weapon already does Burn on a critical then the damage is increased by 2d12.  The weapon’s damage type also switches to Fire.  When in use the Cypher’s blade or other blade heats up to a red glow, while any other weapon may have a barrel or similar part glow red hot.

·         Cryo:  The Strider is able to use their plasma energy in a reverse way, depleting heat and energy from a target.  The weapon’s damage increases by 1 die type and the damage types witches to Cold.  On a critical hit, the weapon gains the Staggered effect in addition to any other effect it may already have.

·         Magnetic:  The Strider is able to channel their plasma energy to magnetize a target.  If the target is hit with your attack, they gain a magnetization percentage (50%).  If a ranged attack is then made and it is energy based it has a chance of being drawn to the magnetized target instead of going at you (roll percentiles to see if this happens, if it’s over 50% the effect occurs).  The attack gets a new attack roll against the magnetized target if the effect occurs.  Once the effect on the target is triggered it goes away even if the attack fails to hit.  If you hit the target more than once on your turn then the chance stacks for 100%.

·         Stunner:  The Strider is able to use the more electrical aspects of their plasma energy on a target.  Damage for the weapon is electrically based, and it gains the “stun” special effect.

CLONE TECHNIQUE (SU)

At Level 10 the Strider gains the technique to create up to 3 clones of themselves.  They mimic the motions of the original and are just as solid and real looking as the original.  And during the Strider’s combat round the Strider clones aid the Strider in dealing an additional die of damage per clone still present (max of +3 dice of damage), but this damage is limited to melee damage only, ranged attacks are simulated but they don’t add to any actual damage you deal.  If the Strider is successfully hit they can choose to substitute a clone to take the hit for them, but this will reduce their clone numbers by 1.  The clones also stay adjacent to the Strider and move around them and through them to make it impossible to tell which is a clone and the real Strider.  Abilities that see through illusions however will detect the real Strider, and they cannot change position with a clone to let them take the hit against opponents who have such abilities.  The technique can be used 2 times per day.

TELEPORT (SU)

At level 13 the Strider gains the ability to use the Teleport spell.  When used normally the strider can only use the spell 2 times per day.  The Strider can also spend 10 minutes to set up special runes that set up a teleportation tunnel between two locations.  This tunnel can only be traversed by Striders and those that they bring with them.  The limitation for this is that the tunnel must be set up outdoors on both ends.  This tunnel doesn’t pay mind to the times per day limit, but it does leave the Strider exposed if an ambush is set up on one end or the other.  The number of tunnels that a Strider can have is limited to 1 + Their WIS modifier (no less than 1 possible).  If a new tunnel is made that exceeds the number that the Strider has then one of the other tunnels (the Strider’s choice) is closed (its runes crack, fading and disintegrating).  Establishing a tunnel initially counts as a single use of the spell.

FALL BREAKER (EX)

At level 14 the Strider possess skills and mystic capabilities that allow them to survive falls from impossible heights (yes even if they purposely jump or drop down form a height).  The Strider is able to reduce the damage of the fall dice they would take by 1 per 2 levels they have as a Strider.  They may also further reduce the damage by making an Acrobatics roll with a DC of 15 +1 per die of damage they would take.

EXTENDED STRIKE (EX)

At level 17 the Strider’s can use their cypher (or custom weapon) with greater range.  Their melee attacks are treated as if the character had reach 2.  If this is a ranged attack from their custom weapon, then the range of said weapon is increased by an extra 20ft.

RAGNAROK (SU)                                                                                                   

At level 20, as a full action you designate one or multiple targets to be the target of this super-human attack.  The Strider teleports rapidly from one spot to another swooping in and unleashing an attack from a multitude of unpredictable directions.  As a full attack you can make your first attack at no penalty, each additional attack made there after is at a cumulative -2 penalty (instead of the normal Full Attack rule).  You can continue to make attacks so long as your attack rolls hit.  If you miss an attack roll the chain ends, but this is only after you have made a minimum of 2 attacks.  This ability can only be used once per day.  Each attack can be made against the same target or against different targets.