Neji – Prisoner's Report 36

Current Predicament: The last thing you can remember is a wave of chilling blue energy breaking over you, sweeping away your consciousness like so much driftwood. It's impossible to say how much time has passed since then. It could have been hours or even days, for all the difference it makes in your dark, devilish prison.

The stone cell you occupy is cold and featureless, with rusty metal bars covering the only entrance. The sturdiness of these bars seems to belie their obvious age, and they have refused to budge even under the most strenuous of efforts. A dim, flickering torch hanging in an iron bracket outside provides the only lighting, and it's just enough for you to note that your wounds have been given at least cursory attention, though it appears to have only been just enough to prevent you from perishing of blood loss.

You are not the sole occupant of your cell. It seems you've been imprisoned with the fugitive officers, and with this John Grisham fellow as well. They appear to be just regaining consciousness as well. Unfortunately, your possessions are not also sharing space in your cell.

You are at one hitpoint.

All your possessions are gone save your clothing.

Personal Notes:

-You've spent all the moments since awakening trying to come to grips with the events leading up to your fall. Could Rhadamanthys truly be a member of your order? And how could Cardinal Callistus allow him to remain in Sapientes Gladio even in light of the new information presented by John Grisham? It seems so outlandish that you are almost willing to dismiss those events as figments of a dream. And yet this nightmare appears to be all too real – every bit as real as the cell in which you are now imprisoned.

-There comes a time when it is necessary to put the past aside and look only to what can be done in the future. Whatever the explaination for the events leading up to your current predicament, it seems like the only way you can serve the light is by working once again with your old comrades. Hopefully they will be able to look past the quarrels you've faced in the past few days, though you have a feeling some of them may not be as rational as you.

Mini-Objective:

-Regain the trust of your fugitive colleagues.

Wheatie – Prisoner's Report 37

Current Predicament: The last thing you can remember is a wave of chilling blue energy breaking over you, sweeping away your consciousness like so much driftwood. It's impossible to say how much time has passed since then. It could have been hours or even days, for all the difference it makes in your dark, devilish prison.

The stone cell you occupy is cold and featureless, with rusty metal bars covering the only entrance. The sturdiness of these bars seems to belie their obvious age, and they have refused to budge even under the most strenuous of efforts. A dim, flickering torch hanging in an iron bracket outside provides the only lighting, and it's just enough for you to note that your wounds have been given at least cursory attention, though it appears to have only been just enough to prevent you from perishing of blood loss.

You are not the sole occupant of your cell. It seems you've been imprisoned with your fugitive companions, John Grisham, and also with Neji. Looks like she might not be in on this whole evil plot after all. They appear to be just regaining consciousness as well. Unfortunately, your possessions are not also sharing space in your cell.

You are at one hitpoint.

All your possessions are gone save your clothing.

Book Report:
-Wheatie, you've been unconscious. Although you would have tried, you haven't been able to read any books. Not that you have any at the moment.

Personal Notes:

-They've taken the DaVinci Code! This has left you with absolutely nothing to do. Watson may be content prognosticating about theories and methods of escape, but you much prefer your escapism to appear only in literary form. It's so much cleaner that way. Unfortunately, you've been left with no reading material of any sort, and it's starting to make you panic. The narrow confines of your cell certainly aren't helping. The farm you grew up on always offered an expansive view of a very large, Denchulli sky. Even the legal department at the Precinct had some windows.

-Surely their attempts to deprive you of sufficient reading material are yet more of their nefarious nature. Whoever 'they' are. You're not generally one to believe in conspiracy theories and the like, but this is the second time you've ended up in a prison in just about as many days. That's just not right for a good student like yourself! Although it seems like she may be in a similar predicament as you now, you can't help but blame Neji for any damage that might have been done to your academic record. You're still sure she encouraged you into this whole mess in the first place.

-Oh, rats! You've heard scittering sounds from the dark corners of the cell, and you suspect they may be the work of recalcitrant rodents. Big ones. You've never been overly fond of animals in general, with the obvious exception of Little Isaac. Rats in particular have always frightened you.

Mini-Objective:

-Find as much reading material as possible.

-Make clear your disdain for rats of any sort.

(Please keep an accurate listing of any materials you've read.)

John Watson – Prison Doctor 32

Current Predicament: The last thing you can remember is a wave of chilling blue energy breaking over you, sweeping away your consciousness like so much driftwood. It's impossible to say how much time has passed since then. It could have been hours or even days, for all the difference it makes in your dark, devilish prison.

The stone cell you occupy is cold and featureless, with rusty metal bars covering the only entrance. The sturdiness of these bars seems to belie their obvious age, and they have refused to budge even under the most strenuous of efforts. A dim, flickering torch hanging in an iron bracket outside provides the only lighting, and it's just enough for you to note that your wounds have been given at least cursory attention, though it appears to have only been just enough to prevent you from perishing of blood loss. You could have done a much more satisfactory job, given half a chance.

You are not the sole occupant of your cell. It seems you've been imprisoned with your fugitive companions, John Grisham, and also with Neji. Of course, this hardly makes you inclined to trust her. It appears they are just regaining consciousness as well. Unfortunately, your possessions are not also sharing space in your cell.

You are at one hitpoint.

All your possessions are gone save your clothing.

Personal Notes:

-Dash it all, you were so close to making Lestrade look like a bungling fool (more so than usual) and perhaps redeeming your reputation. Yet just when you were about to close the proverbial case on Rhadamanthys, who should appear but the man himself. Speak of the devil! Others might have been surprised to find he was working with the Cardinal, but you expected this very turn of events. What you didn't quite predict was the wave of energy that pushed you past the point of rigor mortis.

-That Ben Gates certainly employed some ingenious clues in drawing you to his location. Of course, he must have known that only the crime doctor would be able to diagnose the clues and prescribe their solutions. It wasn't quite as elementary as most of your mysteries, but it was still no real challenge. Ben's probably not the only one who has been weaving complex clues into your surroundings. Secret societies tend to do that as well, and this time you don't intend to take so long to find them. Why, there's probably even some in this very cell. These secret societies seem to have influence almost everywhere, after all.

-Neji's presence in the cell is troublesome. An ignorant layman might assume that her current predicament will force her to join your side, but you weren't born yesterday. You wouldn't be at all surprised if she turned out to be a plant, intended to infiltrate your ranks for some villainous ends. Or maybe her presence is some sort of clue.

Mini-Objective:

-Identify anything that might even possibly be a secret clue and describe its potential significance.

(Please keep an accurate listing of any potential clues you've found.)

Saavik – Prisoner's Report 14

Current Predicament: The last thing you can remember is a wave of chilling blue energy breaking over you, sweeping away your consciousness like so much driftwood. It's impossible to say how much time has passed since then. It could have been hours or even days, for all the difference it makes in your dark, devilish prison.

The stone cell you occupy is cold and featureless, with rusty metal bars covering the only entrance. The sturdiness of these bars seems to belie their obvious age, and they have refused to budge even under the most strenuous of efforts, even when those efforts are made with your amazing Vulcan strength. A dim, flickering torch hanging in an iron bracket outside provides the only lighting, and it's just enough for you to note that your wounds have been given at least cursory attention, though it appears to have only been just enough to prevent you from perishing of blood loss. However, it appears that whoever was treating you did not understand your foreign anatomy. As such, your veridian bodily fluids have done much to restore your health.

You are not the sole occupant of your cell. It seems you've been imprisoned with your fugitive companions, John Grisham, and also with Neji. You still cannot bring yourself to trust her, though she is only one of many who has betrayed you since joining this police force. They appear to be just regaining consciousness as well. Unfortunately, your possessions are not also sharing space in your cell.

You are at full hitpoints.

All your possessions are gone save your clothing.

Impersonal Notes:

-You have long known that Rhadamanthys is terrible and evil person. The betrayal that surprised you was the work of Cardinal Callistus; he had seemed noble, and actually willing to help others. Now you doubt that his motives could have been nearly so pure. For whatever reason, he seems to have sunk down to the level of the very evil he so ostensibly attempts to vanquish. In inking a deal with a devil like Rhadamanthys, he has made himself no better.

-You've learned that your emotions cannot safely be ignored entirely. At the same time, you're aware that they cannot be allowed to dominate you. Some of your companions don't seem to be heeding this advice. You're not surprised that Neji would be a bit upset. She looked up to Callistus a lot. However, you can think of little justification for the others. It seems they have been inflicted with various irrational phobias, probably brought on by the stress of the situation. As a scientist who does not believe in almost anything, let alone such baseless fears, it is your job to identify such ailments by their scientific name and explain to those afflicted just what they are dealing with.

Mini-Objective:

-Diagnose the phobic conditions afflicting your fellow inmates.

(Please keep an accurate listing of the phobias you've diagnosed.)

Jackie - Prisoner's Report 25

Current Predicament: The last thing you can remember is a wave of chilling blue energy breaking over you, sweeping away your consciousness like so much driftwood. It's impossible to say how much time has passed since then. It could have been hours or even days, for all the difference it makes in your dark, devilish prison.

The stone cell you occupy is cold and featureless, with rusty metal bars covering the only entrance. The sturdiness of these bars seems to belie their obvious age, and they have refused to budge even under the most strenuous of efforts. In fact, you've managed to do more damage to your very fast hands than to the bars themselves. A dim, flickering torch hanging in an iron bracket outside provides the only lighting, and it's just enough for you to note that your wounds have been given at least cursory attention, though it appears to have only been just enough to prevent you from perishing of blood loss. Not that you would have been likely to do so, given how many times you've survived predicaments more dire than this. You can't even count the number of such occaisons on one often-broken hand.

You are not the sole occupant of your cell. It seems you've been imprisoned with your fugitive companions, John Grisham, and also with Neji. Looks like she might not be in on this whole evil plot after all, though you're never sure with those Armorians. They appear to be just regaining consciousness as well. Unfortunately, your possessions are not also sharing space in your cell.

You are at one hitpoint.

All your possessions are gone save your clothing.

(Yes, this means you still have the Tuxedo.)

Personal Notes:

-Oh, you knew that the local church had to be up to no good. They claim to be all good and stuff, but then they go and disclude your God from their pantheon. Clearly, they had evil intentions at heart, even from their inception. Fanatics are dangerous, no matter which side of the religious divide they fall on. At least your side doesn't go and get all self-righteous about this sort of thing.

-It seems that the wave of energy launched by Rhadamanthys injured most of your companions quite badly. Some of them still seem to be recovering from their wounds, and they're doing a lot of complaining. Sure, that wave stung a little bit. But you've been through a lot worse. They obviously don't know anything about pain. Maybe it's time you demonstrated once again what the human body is capable of, particularly when it's your body. At the least that should silence all their loud complaining.

Mini-Objective:

-Take more damage than any of your fellow prisoners during this adventure.

(Please keep an accurate total of the damage you've taken.)

Hear, then, of the sorrow of the heroes gathered together for the cause of light. Betrayed they had been by one of their own, and yet as betrayal begets betrayal, she too found herself a prisoner of the sly Callistus, holy Cardinal of the Church and true ruler of the city of Cormus.

The heroes fought the creeping grip of death itself in their cold prison, deep beneath the streets of the city that for their own reasons, they held so dear. Their health was barely so to allow them to awake, save one of their number whose strange veridian blood bought her great strength. And so the heroes gathered in the dank cold, their mighty valor keeping dread thoughts at bay.

The losses their number took were most lamented, chief among them the confiscation of precious suits of armour. One in particular was withheld, and all the cursings to the gods did not return it to them. Crafty men and women they were, already planning how best to slip the bars of the poor cage and continue the battle prophesied for their futures.

In scheming their number was first divided, one valiant man among them searching for inscriptions of any kind, so confident was he in their escape. Another of their number took a straighter approach, finding clues in the dankness of the cell itself and in their unwished for companions, those of rodent kind and nature. The bold women had mental energies on their minds, the first struggling to regain the trust of the intrepid champions, the second diagnosing their mental illnesses so that they may heal deep-seated phobias all the swifter. Another fearless man among them was no stranger to pain, and he provided them with much wisdom to his feats. The last was not among the number of the heroes, but he was safe within their care even in that unholy residence.

The heroes the ngain aid from a likely source. Sent to them by the gods, it would seem, came two beings from the darkness of the catacombs. A man they knew with a companion they did not and he brought with him many gifts of goodwill. From him they learned the art to heal those who were wounded among their number, though they had little time to spare for such luxuries. The flight towards destiny that they then began was halted, briefly, for one last stab at anger.

Their benefactor had found another among the terrible cells of the violent Cardinal, and this was a man soon to be parted from his life. In his evil he was confident, and he spoke not of what the heroes wished to know. From the brilliant anger of their guide, the death-omened Rhadamanthys spoke his last unmourned. The heroes continued their quest of redemption, but were once more thwarted by ill-meaning Callistus.

The passage to freedom blocked by ranks of hundreds Sapientes Gladio warriors, the heroes fell not into the despair that would have taken those of lesser will. With cunning brought to them by the gods above, they returned to the depths and wiles of the catacombs below.

Although the very walls were then set to destroy those on this deadly quest, the heroes prevailed as well they should, standing against more of the unholy rodents, virulent poisons, crushing stones and stakes of wood.

The path towards righteousness was still not an easy one, blocked at every turn. The oft-seeming heroic Valtyrez stood before them, demanding their return to unnamed horrors in the prisons of their enemies. Undaunted, the heroes now used their skills in eloquence and loquaciousness, claiming as their prize 24 hours in which to prove to him their truthful innocence. The hurdle passed with all members unscathed, it seemed that the heroes would be successful in this, near the last stage of their quest. It was hardly to be so, caught as they were by the effusive Father Ted.

A battle then raged worthy of the gods above. The Father called upon his allies, great monstrosities of evil and drink. The fight was joined by the Irish who held that title in their names and the dreaded Deep Fat Friars, bringing with them all manner of unholy energy. Still the heroes stood firm against all odds and proved their mettle once again in dealing with their enemies, the agents of the Church.

Note: Special thanks to Saavik for writing this summary.

Sarah Connor
Race: Deksiilan
Affiliation: USSU
Sarah Connor is a woman known by many names; some call her the Terminatrix, while others might refer to her as the saviour of the future. However, her most prominent title is that of VP Student Issues at the University of Cormus. Her journey to this lofty position began on the dark world of Lorac, where her family was attacked by deadly Dagos-spawn. Only the timely arrival of Tairix the Terminator saved them, and the future. Sarah came to Cormus seeking a degree in philosophy and the ethics of technology. She soon found a target for her protests in the form of Cyberdine Systems. Connor claims the weapons produced by this company have caused much suffering across the galaxy, and she points to the recent malfunction of ED-209 as tangible evidence. An experienced freedom fighter, Sarah Connor typically wears army pants and tank tops that leave her free to wield large firearms. She is also capable of organizing student protests and of stopping machines in their tracks with RoboStop!.