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Whirling Grain	OK, so let's run it like this: Mountain has gone some time in the wilderness, since the destruction or loss of his previous gang, a bit of wandering in the wilderness since most of the countryside is full of superstitious hicks and infrastructure just not designed to support a man of either his physical stature or his ambitions. As such, the shaking earth that accompanies his tread has lead slowly but inexorably to Great Forks, that great bastion of freaks and oddities, where a man who loomed like a mountain might properly be seen as a god among men.
Whirling Grain	It wasn't the first time his shadow had loomed long through the streets of the great city. But this time was different. This time, he was returning with a sense of purpose.
Mountain Thrower	At this point, Mountain Thrower has been in Great Forks a few times, using it and Nexus as his reference points for his growing ambitions. Most of his time is spent in Great Forks. and out of its various gambling halls, arenas and unusual places. It's been quite some time since the loss of his mentor and the gang he served as the chief muscle for.. Exaltation, discovery of a past forgotten life and the adventures and meetings that such an event will have on someone has..twisted his priorities somewhat but even though he's met others like him, his personal goals remain intact though..maybe enlarging just touch.
Whirling Grain	In this case, a purpose meant a contract. The city was tense with gang conflict, one side turned against the other. And one of the gang, known colloquially Engines of the Roaring Wind, had gotten it into their head that the time was ripe to take out one of their rivals, the Fog Sharks, by hiring a living siege engine to beat the ever-living snot out of thier leader Vicious Crane. Vicious Crane was a nasty little punk, but he was talented and lucky-- some said divine blood ran in his veins, not that unheard of in Great Forks. he was deep into martial arts and had been steadily amassing a number of followers, in something that was about 60 percent gang, 40 percent dojo, and 100 percent hatchet-weilding pain in the ass.
Mountain Thrower	Mountain Thrower isn't one to take sides in such a conflict. The particulars of the gang war aren't known to him..yet. At some point he may opt to step in and, in order to make an even greater name for himself, bring the war to end using his own efforts and perhaps bring them all under his wing but for now, beginning with this effort, more mercenary pursuits are sufficient. And so he strolls through the back streets of Great Forks, massive shoulders squared and mountain range of a physique pumped and full display as if he were some human incarnation of the largest and strongest beasts of burdens and not a mere normal man. His approach is deliberately thunderous. Footfalls shaking the ground as he bears down towards the central complex and the large doors leading within. He shows no signs of slowing or stopping and for all intents and purposes seems to be simply acting the part of a living siege engine as he rolls his massive shoulders and causes the crate like masses of his pectorals to bunch up hugely and monstrously in deliberate show to any who might be looking on as scouts. Massive smash fists lock into place along his wrists and he pulls them free from his waist holsters, snapping the chains that were keeping them in place. "..Knock knock.." he rumbles as he draws nigh to the door.
Whirling Grain	So. One of the down sides of sending the Mountain to do your bidding is this: Night or not, he is not subtle. At least, not when it came to things like this. He's not the Night Caste you send to make someone vanish mysteriously, he's the dude you send to send a message. As such, they saw him coming a mile away. Not kidding. Literally. Scouts and lookouts. A full mile. So what we've got here is this-- the giant man being a complete badass. His artifact gauntlets glimmer and shine for a moment with a bright golden light, as they rocket forward and *shatter* the thick oak door of the Fog Shark's dojo-hangout in a single, immensely powerful blow. It's all kinetic and powerful and the art director loves it, great shot, much composition, A+ all around. And then it's met by golden glow, as large and as fast barrelling in the opposite direction-- a massive, searing gout of flame!
Whirling Grain	It would appear they've had time to set up a freaking FLAME CANON directly opposite the door! Vicious Crane sneers as he shouts "AT-TAAAACK!" with barely restrained glee, an order issued by his second in command. The hatchet-weilding fog-sharks emerge from the upper stories of the courtyard, streaming forth in their dozens, leaping on the mountain's giant form with their hatchets drawn!
Whirling Grain	The flame canon crew is at short range-- it's basically impossible to hit anything with those up close, and even then.... they have a huge penalty against targets that aren't... you know. Mountain sized. I'm ruling that the +4 damage to demolition against flamable objects apply, because I don't have time to do any better at this, and it's dragging enough.
Whirling Grain	OK. So. This is the point where the whole thing went off the rails. The Fog Sharks had acquired this cannon from a black-market dealer and were looking to use it to make a big play. It was their big leveller, a freaking SEIGE ENGINE they could apply to gang warfare. And then, Mountain Thrower just *ambling* up to them? it was almost too good. An ambush. All too easy. Except the reason they got such a great deal on the weapon apparently had something to do with shoddy construction practices. Ka. Freaking. BLAM.
Whirling Grain	So, the door is splintered, and an even BIGGER explosion goes off behind it. The whole ground area is being engulfed in a 3L/round Diff 3 environmental hazard.
Whirling Grain	The flame crew is gone. They no longer exist. They are an ex-flame-crew.
Whirling Grain	There is FIRE and PAIN everywhere! (AND GODDAMMIT< WHY IS THE TEN WORD MINIMUM STILL IN PLACE?!)
Mountain Thrower	Well then. He just got lucky. The flash of the explosion causes Mountain to rear back, shielding face and eyes from any potential sharpnel but also caught in the inferno as it boils around him. That's..not particularly ideal even if the destruction of the cannon means one less nuisance. However there are two other nuisances on him.. Brutality and speed seem to be necessary here and Mountain attempts to oblige by swinging a tree trunk of an arm around for Crane with an explosive burst of force that at the very last second, very deliberately slows to a stop and instead sees a single finger flick out from the behemoth with the force of a battering ram. Mountain wants out of the fire also but he's just crazy enough to take a risk to try and drop an opponent in the process.
Mountain Thrower	As to the flames? The man has biceps big enough to wear wagon wheels as arm bands and shatter them with a light flex. Studiness and durability seems baked into him. He's not fire proof but he will allow a moment to put himself to the test to try and prove a point here.
Whirling Grain	With a screaming ki-yai Vicious Crane leaps forward, sliding along the cobbles at the front of his incinerating dogo, trying to dive beneath the legs of the Mountain!
Whirling Grain	The Ordering Lieutennant stops! Drops! he rolls! He runs around trying to pat the fire out! "Get him! Quickly, you fools, before all is lost!"
Whirling Grain	Dozens of Fog Sharks, clad in black linen with red silk bands tied around their wrists and foreheads stream out of the building above, hatchets in their hands, and some of their teeth-- leaping from the upper levels down upon the mountain below. Well. Actually. At the same height as rather a lot of them, to be honest.
Whirling Grain	The mortals feeble hatchets barely scratch the mountain's mighty, magically-reingforced hide!
Whirling Grain	That leaves Vicious Crane, who snarls. Barely singed from the fire, he rolled to one side, raising his sword to deflect the smashing blow by the narrowest of margins, leaving him off balance. Recovering, he leaps forward, regaining his martial discipline and silently aiming a slashing blow towards the Mountain's hamstrings.
Whirling Grain	Vicious Crane swings his sword hard, diving with all his weight and slashing at the tendons of the great Solar, in front of the burning ruins of his dojo. It does little, the mountain barely notices. But we get this cool closeup as he pulls away-- the thinnest trickle of blood.