Post by doc on Aug 21, 2020 7:43:15 GMT -5
SEPTEMBER 5th, 1941
The sun had finished setting behind the old courthouse as everyone arrived. Everyone was in their costume: Vivian noted that even Lex was in his old Steelfist armor - for the first time since Alex had taken matters into his own hands.
Vivian couldn't even recall the last time Matt had worn his Dark Rider outfit in the city. He still continued his crimefighting career, but it was mostly out of town, and even then, he had been mentoring some other new vigilantes that had sprung up in the last couple years. Matt had confessed that he didn't feel much need to deal with crime in town with Vivian taking care of things. He still moved forward at the head of the group, looking over every inch of the place as you moved inside.
Augustus Mayerts had never worn a costume - a simple pair of slacks and a shirt for him. "So, who sent the message?"
"You didn't see it get delivered?" Matt looked back as he opened the door.
You walked down the marble floor of the foyer into your trophy hall; Over the years you had decided to keep a few "trophies" of your adventures - things that were too odd, or too dangerous, to be left in the hands of others. And a few were just keepsakes.
The first was the twisted skeletal remains of a blimp. The gold plate at the bottom told the tale
WRECKAGE OF BARON HYDROGEN'S MURDER ZEPPELIN.
Vivian remembered it was her last arrow that brought down that monster before it could wipe out Topeka.
Matt tapped the glass on the case on the other side, where a mannequin wore a black costume with a full mask and a skull and crossbones symbol on his chest. There was strange, broken pistol in the left hand of the mannequin.
"Howdy, Ray." Matt chuckled.
THE DEATH RAY
You all remembered that one - how Ray Kendrick, a two bit-hood if ever there was one, managed to find that weapon was beyond anyone's ability to understand. Was it from outer space? Or a mad scientist lab? It didn't matter - he had carved a swath of destruction through the city with a beam of energy that could cut through anything. It had come down to a quick draw contest under the light of a full moon between The Death Ray and The Dark Rider - the last time Matt had been active in town.
The next case had a half dozen elaborate black silk robes with red and gold patterns.
VESTMENTS OF THE VAMPIRE CRIME KINGS OF KOWLOON
Rex remembered that one - a trip to Hong Kong gone wrong and the lot of you fighting for your lives in side the walled pirate city. And the six kings weren't even vampires - though they used a lot of trickery to convince everyone else they were.
Lex winced at the mechanical armature mounted in the next case.
IRON ARM'S POWER GLOVE
Vivian had been out of town when Pasty Marconi's nephew had shown up his own suit of armor, cobbled together from Lex's own work in his Chicago days. Lex had donned the Steelfist armor to destroy the last vestige of his criminal work.
The armored car with the tank tread and drill mounting stood in the next case
THE TUNNELMEN'S UNDERCAR
A group of high tech bank robbers had created their own tunnels to steal from every bank in the city using their own gear. It had taken all of you to again solve that case.
The final case before the main hall contained a throne of bones with a mannequin wearing the skins of several jaguars.
THE JAGUAR LORD OF PERU.
Mayerts had fought that one in single combat when the group had traveled to South America to track down the cult that abducted the mayor's son.
Mayerts looked to Matt. "You know how these letters were delivered to each of us?"
"I saw a crow deliver the message to my mailbox. Narrows down the list dramatically, don't you think?" Matt kicked down the double doors to the main hall.
The large marble round table had a single occupant sitting at the chair with an old burlap hood in his hands. Caleb L'angelle's blonde hair had thinned to a widow's peak, and his figure had become gaunt and lean over the years, barely filling out plain black suit. But it was the eyes that were still the same; large and a haunted shade of faded blue. For a moment, you remembered those eyes looking out of that burlap hood and everything they contained; Pain, rage, fear, madness and magic.
"It's good to see you all again - it's been a long time." The man who had once been the Scarecrow smiled. "I bring you greetings from the FBI."
The sun had finished setting behind the old courthouse as everyone arrived. Everyone was in their costume: Vivian noted that even Lex was in his old Steelfist armor - for the first time since Alex had taken matters into his own hands.
Vivian couldn't even recall the last time Matt had worn his Dark Rider outfit in the city. He still continued his crimefighting career, but it was mostly out of town, and even then, he had been mentoring some other new vigilantes that had sprung up in the last couple years. Matt had confessed that he didn't feel much need to deal with crime in town with Vivian taking care of things. He still moved forward at the head of the group, looking over every inch of the place as you moved inside.
Augustus Mayerts had never worn a costume - a simple pair of slacks and a shirt for him. "So, who sent the message?"
"You didn't see it get delivered?" Matt looked back as he opened the door.
You walked down the marble floor of the foyer into your trophy hall; Over the years you had decided to keep a few "trophies" of your adventures - things that were too odd, or too dangerous, to be left in the hands of others. And a few were just keepsakes.
The first was the twisted skeletal remains of a blimp. The gold plate at the bottom told the tale
WRECKAGE OF BARON HYDROGEN'S MURDER ZEPPELIN.
Vivian remembered it was her last arrow that brought down that monster before it could wipe out Topeka.
Matt tapped the glass on the case on the other side, where a mannequin wore a black costume with a full mask and a skull and crossbones symbol on his chest. There was strange, broken pistol in the left hand of the mannequin.
"Howdy, Ray." Matt chuckled.
THE DEATH RAY
You all remembered that one - how Ray Kendrick, a two bit-hood if ever there was one, managed to find that weapon was beyond anyone's ability to understand. Was it from outer space? Or a mad scientist lab? It didn't matter - he had carved a swath of destruction through the city with a beam of energy that could cut through anything. It had come down to a quick draw contest under the light of a full moon between The Death Ray and The Dark Rider - the last time Matt had been active in town.
The next case had a half dozen elaborate black silk robes with red and gold patterns.
VESTMENTS OF THE VAMPIRE CRIME KINGS OF KOWLOON
Rex remembered that one - a trip to Hong Kong gone wrong and the lot of you fighting for your lives in side the walled pirate city. And the six kings weren't even vampires - though they used a lot of trickery to convince everyone else they were.
Lex winced at the mechanical armature mounted in the next case.
IRON ARM'S POWER GLOVE
Vivian had been out of town when Pasty Marconi's nephew had shown up his own suit of armor, cobbled together from Lex's own work in his Chicago days. Lex had donned the Steelfist armor to destroy the last vestige of his criminal work.
The armored car with the tank tread and drill mounting stood in the next case
THE TUNNELMEN'S UNDERCAR
A group of high tech bank robbers had created their own tunnels to steal from every bank in the city using their own gear. It had taken all of you to again solve that case.
The final case before the main hall contained a throne of bones with a mannequin wearing the skins of several jaguars.
THE JAGUAR LORD OF PERU.
Mayerts had fought that one in single combat when the group had traveled to South America to track down the cult that abducted the mayor's son.
Mayerts looked to Matt. "You know how these letters were delivered to each of us?"
"I saw a crow deliver the message to my mailbox. Narrows down the list dramatically, don't you think?" Matt kicked down the double doors to the main hall.
The large marble round table had a single occupant sitting at the chair with an old burlap hood in his hands. Caleb L'angelle's blonde hair had thinned to a widow's peak, and his figure had become gaunt and lean over the years, barely filling out plain black suit. But it was the eyes that were still the same; large and a haunted shade of faded blue. For a moment, you remembered those eyes looking out of that burlap hood and everything they contained; Pain, rage, fear, madness and magic.
"It's good to see you all again - it's been a long time." The man who had once been the Scarecrow smiled. "I bring you greetings from the FBI."
