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[Skortched Urf' Studios] Dept. 7 Adv. Class Update: Scion of Masada released.
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<blockquote data-quote="mcathro" data-source="post: 3449270" data-attributes="member: 41917"><p><img src="http://www.skortchedurfstudios.com/demo/SUS-3331Demo/images/page1.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /></p><p></p><p><em>One hundred twenty seconds to get clear.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>BenDavid pushed the red ‘commit’ button on the</em></p><p><em>plastique’s timer, shoved the anti-radiation drug injector</em></p><p><em>hard against his neck, hoping it would be enough when the</em></p><p><em>Iranian cyclotron’s nuclear stores went up. Ben David threw</em></p><p><em>the injector hard against the control console as he started to</em></p><p><em>run, not concerned about the droplets of his blood that were</em></p><p><em>still clinging to the injector’s needle. He was running, nearly</em></p><p><em>a dozen yards down one of the lab’s sterile corridors by the</em></p><p><em>time the syringe shattered against the North Korean built</em></p><p><em>computer screen.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>One hundred seconds.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>BenDavid leapt to the side as machine gun fire</em></p><p><em>ricocheted down the corridor. A smoke grenade exploded</em></p><p><em>with a dull pop and the corridor went the grey of television</em></p><p><em>static. The Iranians must have found the two bodies he</em></p><p><em>dropped on his way into the complex. The Israeli spy took</em></p><p><em>cover behind a vending machine, glowing a surreal red and</em></p><p><em>white in the grey haze. BenDavid knew didn’t have time for</em></p><p><em>this, as he pulled his twin swords from their sheathes in the</em></p><p><em>lean muscles of his thighs. The bone daggers danced with</em></p><p><em>silvery runes as they caught the light.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Ninety seconds.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>More gunfire, covering fire as the Iranian security</em></p><p><em>detail moved forward. BenDavid gripped his knives tighter,</em></p><p><em>folding them against his forearms the way he’d been trained.</em></p><p><em>He tensed, crouched, knowing he’d have to trade precision</em></p><p><em>and safety for raw speed. The first of the Iranians was in</em></p><p><em>sight; even through the smoke BenDavid could smell the</em></p><p><em>plastic odor of his Kevlar and the stink of his adrenaline.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Eighty seconds.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Leap out from behind cover, surge forward and up,</em></p><p><em>slide the edge of your knife across the surprised Iranian’s</em></p><p><em>throat, and duck down low as the man’s blood exploded</em></p><p><em>up, splattering the low banks of fluorescent lights, so the</em></p><p><em>dying man took the bullets meant for you…..</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Seventy nine seconds.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>BenDavid blocked four bullets with his bone knives, the</em></p><p><em>shock of their impacts thrumming up the blades and</em></p><p><em>through his forearms, resonating within his shoulders.</em></p><p><em>Than BenDavid took two shots to the chest. He stumbled,</em></p><p><em>his own blood joining the spreading pool on the floor. He</em></p><p><em>winced, and sliced off the fingers of the man who shot him,</em></p><p><em>screaming obscenities in Hebrew.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Seventy eight seconds.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>BenDavid brought his blade down on the last</em></p><p><em>gunman, slicing through jugular and watched as the man</em></p><p><em>crumbled. The young spy caught his breath, coughing up</em></p><p><em>bits of lung tissue and black blood as the last gunman died.</em></p><p><em>Somewhere, he found the strength to start running again.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Seventy seconds.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The soul that empowered his blades may have</em></p><p><em>died for Israel, but BenDavid had no desire to join him.</em></p><p><em>BenDavid staggered down the corridor, running as fast has</em></p><p><em>he could, and the martyred soul within the blades hummed</em></p><p><em>comfortingly.</em></p><p></p><p>During the waning days of the Roman Empire, a small Jewish garrison held off a much larger Roman force at the mountaintop fort of Masada. In the end, when defeat was inevitable, they chose death over capture and slavery, becoming symbols of Jewish defiance and valor.</p><p></p><p>The Scions of Masada are a secretive, highly trained and impeccably equipped sect of elite assassins and saboteurs within Israel’s feared MOSSAD agency that carry on the spirit of the martyrs of Masada.</p><p></p><p>The Scion of Masada incorporates martial arts, Zen swordsmanship techniques, counterintelligence and military expertise and ancient esoteric arts into a seamless whole. All Scions carry deadly stealth daggers, undetectable my most conventional weapon detectors, as their badges of office, and these blades are imbued with the spirit of defiance of the heroes of Masada.</p><p></p><p>Written by Chris A. Field & Daniel M. Perez</p><p>Artwork by Anthony cournoyer.</p><p></p><p>Included in the listing is a full Flash Demo of the product, as well as a Publisher Audio Commentary.</p><p></p><p>Available at <a href="http://wwww.yourgamesnow.com/" target="_blank">Your Games Now</a>, and <a href="http://enworld.rpgnow.com/catalog/index.php" target="_blank"> the ENWorld Download Shop</a>.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="mcathro, post: 3449270, member: 41917"] [IMG]http://www.skortchedurfstudios.com/demo/SUS-3331Demo/images/page1.jpg[/IMG] [I]One hundred twenty seconds to get clear. BenDavid pushed the red ‘commit’ button on the plastique’s timer, shoved the anti-radiation drug injector hard against his neck, hoping it would be enough when the Iranian cyclotron’s nuclear stores went up. Ben David threw the injector hard against the control console as he started to run, not concerned about the droplets of his blood that were still clinging to the injector’s needle. He was running, nearly a dozen yards down one of the lab’s sterile corridors by the time the syringe shattered against the North Korean built computer screen. One hundred seconds. BenDavid leapt to the side as machine gun fire ricocheted down the corridor. A smoke grenade exploded with a dull pop and the corridor went the grey of television static. The Iranians must have found the two bodies he dropped on his way into the complex. The Israeli spy took cover behind a vending machine, glowing a surreal red and white in the grey haze. BenDavid knew didn’t have time for this, as he pulled his twin swords from their sheathes in the lean muscles of his thighs. The bone daggers danced with silvery runes as they caught the light. Ninety seconds. More gunfire, covering fire as the Iranian security detail moved forward. BenDavid gripped his knives tighter, folding them against his forearms the way he’d been trained. He tensed, crouched, knowing he’d have to trade precision and safety for raw speed. The first of the Iranians was in sight; even through the smoke BenDavid could smell the plastic odor of his Kevlar and the stink of his adrenaline. Eighty seconds. Leap out from behind cover, surge forward and up, slide the edge of your knife across the surprised Iranian’s throat, and duck down low as the man’s blood exploded up, splattering the low banks of fluorescent lights, so the dying man took the bullets meant for you….. Seventy nine seconds. BenDavid blocked four bullets with his bone knives, the shock of their impacts thrumming up the blades and through his forearms, resonating within his shoulders. Than BenDavid took two shots to the chest. He stumbled, his own blood joining the spreading pool on the floor. He winced, and sliced off the fingers of the man who shot him, screaming obscenities in Hebrew. Seventy eight seconds. BenDavid brought his blade down on the last gunman, slicing through jugular and watched as the man crumbled. The young spy caught his breath, coughing up bits of lung tissue and black blood as the last gunman died. Somewhere, he found the strength to start running again. Seventy seconds. The soul that empowered his blades may have died for Israel, but BenDavid had no desire to join him. BenDavid staggered down the corridor, running as fast has he could, and the martyred soul within the blades hummed comfortingly.[/I] During the waning days of the Roman Empire, a small Jewish garrison held off a much larger Roman force at the mountaintop fort of Masada. In the end, when defeat was inevitable, they chose death over capture and slavery, becoming symbols of Jewish defiance and valor. The Scions of Masada are a secretive, highly trained and impeccably equipped sect of elite assassins and saboteurs within Israel’s feared MOSSAD agency that carry on the spirit of the martyrs of Masada. The Scion of Masada incorporates martial arts, Zen swordsmanship techniques, counterintelligence and military expertise and ancient esoteric arts into a seamless whole. All Scions carry deadly stealth daggers, undetectable my most conventional weapon detectors, as their badges of office, and these blades are imbued with the spirit of defiance of the heroes of Masada. Written by Chris A. Field & Daniel M. Perez Artwork by Anthony cournoyer. Included in the listing is a full Flash Demo of the product, as well as a Publisher Audio Commentary. Available at [URL=http://wwww.yourgamesnow.com/]Your Games Now[/URL], and [URL=http://enworld.rpgnow.com/catalog/index.php] the ENWorld Download Shop[/URL]. [/QUOTE]
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[Skortched Urf' Studios] Dept. 7 Adv. Class Update: Scion of Masada released.
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