Greywind

Well, yeah, but 3e didn't come about until 2003. 2e suffered from "toomanybookitis".

Started development in '87. Released in '89.

“It isn't like you to shy away from a challenge.” Jason turned back. “I have to wonder what Sandy would think of that.” * * * * * Charles poured whiskey into a glass. “I would suggest, Director, that with any future dealings you might have with my son, that you not attempt to motivate him with mention of Miss Wilson.” He held out the glass of whiskey. Daniel Thomas took the offered glass, lowered the bag of ice from his swollen jaw. Taking a drink, the alcohol burned around loose teeth. “Damn”, he muttered. “Lucky he didn't break it.” “Quite honestly, you're lucky he didn't take your head off.”

Which is why there is a GM to moderate the game.

Well, the Adrian Chase Vigilante offed himself in a bathroom with his own gun.

Sitting on the corner of his father's desk, Jason watched Marlene escort Daniel Thomas and Sharon Anderson into the office. Two of Thomas' foot soldiers stopped outside the door and bracketed it. “Can I get you anything?” Marlene asked. “No, thank you,” Director Thomas said. “Ice tea,” Sharon said. “Yes, ma'am.” Marlene left to fetch Sharon's drink. “Charles,” Thomas said with a nod. “Jason, I've been looking for you.” “And here you've found me. How hard was that?” “Damn it, son! Where are those assets?” he demanded. Jason smiled a closed-mouth smile that quirked up one corner of his mouth. “Kris and Ash? The ladies are out enjoying the pool.” Daniel Thomas turned to the two by the door. “Go detain them.” “No,” Jason said, standing up. “Excuse me? You absconded...” “Director Thomas, you are not exactly law enforcement. Neither of those women did a damned thing except be taken prisoner and experimented on. They are both American citizens, which means that the law is on their side. Following that, Director, they are my guests. Any efforts taken by you or your stooges will result in you and I throwing down, right here and right now, and invariably end up with you being taken out in either a body bag or a garbage pail. Neither option would really disappoint me at the moment.” “Damn it, son!” “For the record, I am not your son. If I absconded with anyone it was because you were treating them like prisoners.” “They needed to have check ups,” Thomas said. Jason nodded. “I agree with you there. Irish is coming in tomorrow to do tests on both and get benchmarks, if nothing else.” “Jason, why don't you go see to your guests while Director Thomas and I talk,” Charles said. “Yes, sir.” Jason stepped past Thomas and stopped beside Sharon. “You look lovely,” he said quietly and kissed her on the cheek.

You know, if people could just learn to keep their secret underground hatches locked...

Jen looked over the list of names. The list wasn't alphabetical, but numerical. The number coincided with the books shelved behind her. Supposedly, the lower the number the more the volume would be worth to a collector. At least that was how Emily explained book collecting to her. What that had to do with these collected volumes of Jason's paintings, Jen had no idea. All of the red volumes were sealed. A lot of Jason's free time over the summer had been spent making the list she had, and more spent doing sketches that were sealed in the books. That was the main reason for the tamper-proof seals. “Can I help you?” Stacy asked. Jen looked up to see a tall black man with graying hair. The man handed a card over to Stacy and seemed to stare at Jen for the longest time. “Is there something wrong?” Jen asked. “Forgive me for staring. You remind me of someone and I'm trying to place who it is,” he explained with a smile. “I'm Frank Stone.” “Oh! I've heard stories,” Jen said. “Good ones, I hope.” “Nothing but, Captain,” Jen said grinning. “Jen Asher, sir.” “Ah, Warren's little sister. That explains it.” He held out his hand. “Very pleased to meet you, Jen Asher.” Jen took his hand. It was dry and he was gentle, but Jen felt strength there. Stacy slid a red-bound volume on the counter. “I am going to get something to drink and maybe a bite. Want anything?” “Hmm. Something strong that will keep me going until dinner,” said Jen. Stacy cast a glance at Stone. “Large coke on ice. Got it. I'll let you go hit the snack bar when I get back.” Jen checked the volume on her list, saw Stone's name there and drew a line through it with a highlighter. “There you go, Captain.” Jen handed him the book. “It makes me wonder where Jason finds time to paint.” “Honestly, he spends time not sleeping. So he paints,” Jen explained. Stone smiled. “Well, I need to get back to my wife and see what is hanging up on the walls in here. Very nice to meet you, young lady.” “Thank you, Captain. Very nice to meet you, as well.”

Is that my stuff? You weren't using it anymore.

Brad stood in front of the painting of Nightwing, glass in one hand, the other shoved into his trouser pocket, thumb hooked on the outside. It took a few moments before he realized Emily was standing beside him. “Mrs. Deveraux,” he said in greeting. “Mr. Michaels,” she said in return. She spoke without ever turning to look at him. “It would behoove you to know that everyone here this evening is here because Jason invited them. He had the sole say in tonight's guest list. If you are here it is because he requested it.” Emily turned away from the painting and made her way to another group of guests. Brad watched her walk away, lost in his thoughts.

And it would totally depend upon how the power is defined.

Earlier editions seemed to rely more on GM judgement. Later editions have just become numerating every screw and nail holding the place together.

We don't need another hero We don't need to know the way home All we want is life beyond the Thunderdome

Point them at the early New Teen Titans appearance of Deathstroke the Terminator. Up to at least The Judas Contract.

Game pop is down due to M16 revisions and scaling.

"Intelligence is too high. Almost normal." ~ Taskmaster when going over applications for his school of thugs.

Warlocks heal or DPS now. I hear that the healer is the better path. My warlock doesn't get out much.

You say that as if it were a bad thing.

Warlocks cry. Paladins are tanks, but not indestructible. Lots of major shakeups. 2 paragons per class as before. Only 2 options for paths for each. All feats are now one or the other. No multiple choice. Boons got radically simplified. Power share is dead. Buffing is dead.

Mooks shouldn't be jaded. Otherwise they wouldn't follow the master villains orders, either.

And in Batman Forever all it took to establish a bigger universe was one line by Bruce Wayne stating that "the circus must be halfway to Metropolis by now".