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Grimply, on top of the scruntmera Just like last time, Grimply used his magboots to ride on top of the scruntmera. Unlike last time though, he didn't do it for fun and a fresh breeze under his coat. No, he did it because he does not want to be in a cramped wheelybox with Grumb and his dumb stinking humie. Kreb also acted weird so that's another reason for not being inside the scruntmera. And with Yurik's recent humie loving, Grimply gets the feeling that the other scrunts could be turning against him. Maybe they are jealous because he speaks to the father? Maybe. In any case, he has to be on his guard from now. When the scruntmera comes to a rumbling stop, the scrunts spill out and either mill about or start to gather around Yurik who seems to be yelling about things. With his new attitude of mild paranoia, Grimply does not feel like being close to the scrunt gathering, and rather orders Flet to attend it so that he can tell him what's up later. Grimply quickly surveys the ambush site, and decides to climb up on the crags. He likes being up on things and also not being close to the scrunts that possibly plan to murder him. But while he waddles over, he notices that Grumb also aims for the crags. With a silent hisss, Grimply picks the side of the crags that Grumb is not going for. With a swift motion, Grimply pulls out his grappling hook, and easily scampers up the rugged crag. While doing that, he glances over at Grumb to make sure that he is not coming over to his side, and has a hearty laugh when he sees the big scrunt tumble down halfway during his climb. It seems like the scruntfather is in a good mood today. Up on the crag, Grimply surveys the area. Lots of ground around them, and Grimply can spot several plumes of smoke in the distance. It seems like they are moving towards their ambush, which may be good or bad. Not sure about that right now. "Mastah! Mastah!" yells Flet from the ground. "Whas goin' on, lad?" "Tha new scrunt is tellin everyone about tha ambush an..." "Whassat? I can't 'ear yer roight from down there! Get yer arse up 'ere!" Flet promptly scrambles for the crag, and despite his enthusiasm, he quickly falls after climbing a few steps. "Argh! Yer not doing it roight! Wait...'ere, yer can have me climby tool." Flet looks very happy after Grimply said that, and his expression doesn't change when the grappling hook bonks off from his head. ---------------------------------------------- 20 vs 47+30 to climb the crags like a pro 39 vs 53+10(Heightened Senses) perception test to scout the smoke plumes with Flet's monocular, any info gained will be shouted down to the rest by Grimply's booming preaching voice Also, I've told Flet to load my new rifle with one of them big rounds(penetrator) and have it ready for me Tin Tim fucked around with this message at 20:16 on Feb 20, 2015 |
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Feb 20, 2015 20:11
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Start Your Engines The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMX0jndU6cg In preparation for the ambush, some scrunts seek advantageous positions, but most of them just hang around the Chimera, clutching at their weapons and themselves. The new camo-netting remains stowed, as the APC lurks conspicuously by the treeline. It would be the work of a moment to reverse the tank a few metres and stretch the netting over the vehicle, but, perhaps out of some primitive superstition, or an inherent fear of nets, none of the scrunts appear willing to take this step. Their comrades continue to mutter to themselves, and exchange worried glances. The mechanical scrunts in the limo joyfully rev their engine, ready to drive into things again. A couple of the more enterprising warrior scrunts set their sights on higher ground, demonstrating some faint curiosity as to what's coming their way. The other scrunts hiss suspiciously at them as they climb. Grumb fumbles his first ascent, crashing a few metres back to earth with no real ill effects - the crags are comprised of mercilessly hard and jagged rock, granted, but they rise from soft turf like a razorblade in an apple, and the gunner simply bounced. Cursing Groin for getting the second grappling hook implanted into his body, the heavy gunner hauls himself up the cliff face on the second attempt and flops onto a convenient ledge near the summit. Grimply, on the other hand, climbs like a monkey, barely pausing for breath as he scrunts up the side of the crag. There's a brief hairy moment when he accidentally knocks his magboots together and finds them inexplicably attracted to the rockface, but that's easily solved by switching them off again. Between them, the two specialist scrunts try to make out what's coming their way, over the horizon. Grimply starts off the surveillance with a look to the south, where a trio of four-wheeled vehicles can be seen racing down the highway, smoke belching from twin exhaust pipes. They look like modified Tauros cars; extremely lightly armoured skirmishing vehicles, afforded an irritating degree of flexibility by their high-velocity, long-range grenade launchers. To the north, Grumb espies a trio of Sentinels gingerly mincing down the road at high speed, bodies waggling fowards and back as the operators push their machines to the limit. At this distance it's hard to tell, but they look to have the telltale flamer fueltanks of an anti-infantry unit; looks like they've got melee chainblade attachments, too. Flamethrowers, buzzsaws... if he didn't know better, the gunner would assume these Sentinels were specced to fight trees. The fact that the Sentinels aren't toting their usual multilasers or autocannons will probably be cold comfort if they get into close combat range. Finally, Grumb spots the fuel tanker and its escort coming in from a byroad to the west - it's a great six-wheeled beast of a thing, gleaming in the morning sun. Smaller shapes ride alongside it, occasionally lunging forward and falling back, or popping a wheelie. It looks like a full squad of motorcycle-borne Rough Riders - neither of the scrunts have heard of PDF regiments using these outside of the most heavily industrialised worlds, so this might be an actual military unit. Grimply, in particular, doesn't like the look of those lances very much - he assumes they're krak-tipped, but at this distance they're hard to make out. The lead rider's weapon might well have the characteristic bulge of a melta charge. This could be messy, thinks the sniper, but things get a lot messier in a hurry once he realises that trailing behind them, winding their way down a mountain road, are a pair of Leman Russ battletanks. Grimply starts breathing again a few seconds later once he sees how fast the tanks are moving. They're probably another half an hour behind the fuel tanker and escort - despite the relatively short distance, they've got a lot of descent to cover, and while a Tauros might be able to whip through those mountain roads and barely touch the brake, a main battletank cannot take it so easy. It just means this might be a smash-and-grab assault, rather than a straight-out slogging match. It looks like the tanker's going to show up first, followed by the Tauroses, and finally the Sentinels. If the fight's still going on after half an hour there may be issues, as the Leman Russes should become part of the picture at that point, but honestly if this turns into a slogging match, tanks will be the least of the scrunt's worries. The sniper ponders this, while Grumb ponders boulders. The rocks are indeed kind of unstable near his peak; the problem won't be that of applying enough force to dislodge them, but rather of not plummeting to the ground alongside them. If he could attach himself to the crag somehow, he could probably simply kick at the boulders until a rockslide is triggered, but if he does that before the fuel tanker shows up then it'll be stranded on the western side of the pass, inaccessible to casual scrunting. Otherwise, concerted gunfire would certainly start off a collapse, if he doesn't mind being extremely conspicuous and exposed on his ledge. Rigging a timed booby trap would be a challenge to the scrunt, but probably not an insurmountable one. Grimply relates his findings to the world at large by yelling at the top of his voice. Thankfully, the oncoming troops can't hear him over the roar of their engines, and if they did, they probably wouldn't understand him. ------ scrunt Ignite Memories, Foresight is only usable against Intelligence skill tests and takes ten minutes in any case; had you actually used it you'd be stranded on top of the crag when the enemy rocked up. You had enough successes without it, though. You also don't use Awareness for deliberately looking out for things in this context; it is specifically for passive detection of anything hidden or off, rather than actively standing there with binoculars. You can spend that XP on something else if you want. Both spyscrunts passed Perception tests with suitable degrees of success. Now you know what's coming, woo. Get in and out before the tanks show up, eh. Even your unmanned multilaser won't do much against the frontal armour of a Leman Russ. ROCKS FALL EVERYBODY DIES can be triggered with a) booting the poo poo out of them and passing a +20 Strength check to not go tumbling after them (2m fall per DoF, then you're clinging to the rockface); b) shooting the poo poo out of them (BS test at point blank with full aim, so +40); c) bombing the poo poo out of them with e.g. a frag grenade; +20 Tech Use test, which works out as a +0 Intelligence test for you. Five minutes a pop, failure means wasted time, 4DoF or more means it detonates in your hand. Tanker and bikers from the west first, Tauroses from the south second, Sentinels from the north third. Leman Russes come to TPK you if you're still about after half an hour. The sentinels have in fact been reassigned from the Steel Forest, whoever suggested that as a worldbuilding idea. Everything you're facing to begin with is either a dude on a bike, or an open-topped vehicle. Dudes on bikes go down like dudes not on bikes, but we're not using Formation rules for the Rough Riders, just regular mook rules. They have wounds, but critical damage or Righteous Fury kills them. Open-topped vehicles will take limited damage from regular ol' small arms fire, but you can target the crew using Called Shots, or by hitting them with a Spray or Blast weapon (e.g. flamers and grenades); again, mook rules apply. You set the driver of a sentinel on fire, he's unlikely to be much of a threat. Or, if your gun is big enough, simply shoot the cybervehicles until they die. Scrunts on crags can either stay there, or go elsewhere. Up to you. scrunt
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Feb 22, 2015 23:43
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Yurik Scraglagger At a Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Yurik peered upwards scruntily as Grimply scrambled up a nearby tree and relayed what he'd spotted with a series of shouts and precarious gestures, but his blood ran cold as he parsed what the scout scrunt was telling them...that those damnable, treacherous humies were coming not just from one, not just from two, but from three directions all at once with "sorta like wheelyboxes but, uh, cut in half" (motorcycles, the word filtered its way through Yurik's maladjusted brain via a copy of The Imperial Infantryman's Vehicular Recognition Guide) and "wheelamajiggers what's all made out of bars" (some sort of Tauros scout vehicles) and... ...and, according to Grumb, absolutely nothing at all despite the plumes of smoke slowly approaching from the north. Yurik's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I ain't nae fool," he thought, scratching the patchy hair beneath his colander. "Yer up ta something, Grumb Slanger." Even a scrunt like Grimply, for whom most vehicles were simply some variation of a wheelybox, knew what tanks were though. The misaligned, malformed wheels of Yurik's mind began turning as he quickly paced back and forth, muttering to himself and panicking internally. Had the humies learned of their ambush somehow? Were they, in fact, planning to ambush their ambush? No, that was impossible, inconceivable even. He had expected the convoy to have an escort...he just hadn't expected it to be quite so big. Bloody, blasted humies couldn't ever make anything simple. Harumphing and straightening his robes, Yurik sprung into action the way he knew best...shouting at other scrunts. "Groin! Groin, ya' softheaded sumpsucker, get that camo done up over the Chi-meera afore those motor-sickles come an' ram their boomin'-sticks up your great big bloody metal arse! Should someone be on that gun!?," he said, pointing at the unmanned multilaser mounted to the Chimera's hull. "Then fackin' get to it! An' someone shut those eedjits up!," he shouted as the technoscrunts continued to both rev the limousine's engine while making engine revving sounds with their mouths. "Hack! Hack, get over here!," he shouted, whirling around and inadvertently clouting his assistant upside the head with his thinkin' stick. "There you are. Awright, listen up, I got me a plan and you're gonna help." Hack's face broke into an extremely offputting grin as he rasped and horked excitedly. "First things first, we're gonna need a lot of fackin' rope..." Well I had hoped that we might use the rockslide to box the truck in while we ambushed it in our killbox buuuuut since it's coming from the west that means, as Schlong has helpfully pointed out, we can't actually do that or else it'll be stuck on the other side. Which means we may need to use the Chimera itself as an impromptu roadblocker. Rolling Scholastic Lore (Tactica Imperialis) for hot, hot knowledge skill action. That's a 79 against a TN of 53 (43 for Yurik plus let's say a +10 assistance bonus from Gumbo) so like 2 DoF, poo poo. I'll spend a valuable fate point to reroll that poo poo and wait, no, gently caress, that gives me a 96 so that was a complete waste of a fate point and I know even less now. Lesson learned, never spend fate points. Anyway, here is Yurik's plan...I would like to lay some rope across the road where the fuel truck and motorcycles will be passing, camouflaging it with leaves and dirt and roadkill and poo poo, then when the truck has driven past it Yurik and his comrade will (from hiding) pull it taut and attempt to clothesline any of the rough riders bringing up the rear of the convoy. We are not, I reiterate for emphasis, going to try and clothesline the truck no matter how hilarious that might end up. Let me know what if any skill rolls are required to set this into motion, also I am assuming we have rope among our narratively convenient soldiering gear. Kai Tave fucked around with this message at 06:30 on Feb 24, 2015 |
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Feb 23, 2015 19:41
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Rope for arsing around is fine (enough rope for climbing is not free, incidentally) but even a scrunt who has failed tactics rolls so comprehensively knows that a bunch of dudes on motorcycles weigh a lot more than a couple of scrunts. You'll need to tie one end to a convenient tree and then it'll be a case of either hoping for assistance, passing some hefty strength checks that get worse the more motorbikes plow into it, or maybe attaching the rope to something else movable and heavy. Otherwise you'll go flying and might get dragged along the ground for a bit.
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Feb 23, 2015 20:12
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:You'll need to tie one end to a convenient tree and then it'll be a case of either hoping for assistance, passing some hefty strength checks that get worse the more motorbikes plow into it, or maybe attaching the rope to something else movable and heavy. Otherwise you'll go flying and might get dragged along the ground for a bit. Hey guys, I just figured out a use for that limousine we brought with us.
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Feb 23, 2015 20:13
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Urok The Crossroads Urok has been scouting around the base of the cliffs and areas off the roadway for some good cover and concealment, wanting to be within flamer and charge range when the hummies arrive. Grimplys shouting draws Uroks attention away from idyllic daydreams of flame, bloodshed and violence. Shouting from the top of the cliffs, Grimply describes the prey about to walk into the ambush. Uroks grows excited, when he realizes the scrunt camp is being approached from different directions, with military units moving toward them...and TANKS! Prey..of a sort....but prey that can fight back. A good chance to blood his new weapons. That loving nerd Yurik starts running his mouth, and Urok briefly fantasizes about cutting out his tongue with his beautiful new Axe, and maybe adding a new decoration to his eye necklace, but his fashion concerns are waylaid when he realizes the wimpy scrunt is making some sense. Running a rope across the road strikes Urok as a Good Idea, and so he wanders down toward the intersection, ready to make himself available to help pull this plan off, hoping he never has to work with alas, poor Yurik again. A fellow of infinite words, and poor fancy. __________________ OOC I am available for any STR or Intimidate checks for ensuring the scrunts in the limo get their poo poo together, placing/tying the rope for the ambush, and related tasks. Please feel free to take narrative control of Urok for these tasks. Also, I specifically asked for rope at one point, and was laughed at, so WHOSE LAUGHING NOW MUAHAHAH If we do not get another round of prep posts, I want Urok to be positioned off the road with a grenade ready to throw when the riders get clotheslined Waroduce fucked around with this message at 05:18 on Feb 24, 2015 |
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Feb 23, 2015 21:57
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Grumb Slanger, a rocky perch Grumb dutifully relays his findings to the group of scrunts scattered about the ambush site. "We's better look out, fellas, looks like trouble! Thurr's a pack o' two-wheel rideymans escortin' the cargo truck. And there! Up norf, looks like we got a squad o' - ...A squad of... the heck are those things?" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fHvnMi9_9mM     Grumb Slanger had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life. What kind of splendiferous walky-boxes were these? They stomped around more gracefully than the finest of game-ostriches, affixed with spinny bits and burny bits galore. Had there been a more efficient way to stomp people to death this whole time?? Why had he not been informed?! There were no words! They should have sent a poet... If only Grumb could have one of his very own. He must have one!! But what would his Scruntmates say? What would his scruntmates do? Grumb clasps his binoculars tightly to his chest, and gulps down the lump in his throat. "A Squodda what, Grumb?" Barry pipes up. Grumb whirls around nervously. "NOTHING!" Grumb yells, pulling the binoculars off of his neck and smashing them on a jagged rock. "MY MISTAKE!" "Oh, okay," Barry said, chewing on a small gecko he'd pulled from the rocks. He calls down to the squad below. "Grumb made a mistake, ain't nothin' comin' at us from up norf!" The mechaniscrunts rev their engine affirmatively, and the crowd goes about their preperatory duties. They's mine, Grumb thought. Grumb Slang he ain't gon let no-un' break 'is beootiful walky-boxes afore Grumb get's a chance at 'em! His eyes dart back and forth wildly as he is stricken with a heretofore-unknown degree of intense paranoia. I'll take 'em myself! I'll just jump down there and take one for my very own. Sweating, he begins to gnaw nervously on his autocannon barrel as he awaits the approach of the walky-boxes, having completely forgotten why he'd ascended the crags in the first place. Yurik Scraglagger peers up at Grumb's silhouette from below. I ain't nae fool, he thought, scratching the patchy hair beneath his colander. Yer up ta something, Grumb Slanger. ----------------- I have decided it's much funnier if we don't know about the sentinels. Call me a turncoat if you will, but Grumb is calling dibs on a sentinel the only way he knows how. This might require a bit of retcon of the last couple posts, which I would appreciate support on. After all, this game is more fun when we're assholes to each other. The rest of you can each decide for yourselves if you buy Grumb's bullshit, but he is not telling the group about the sentinel squad. My plan is to have grumb suddenly remember the fuel truck after it goes by the pass, and shove the rocks down behind it. After that he'll take cover, and try to line up an insane gravity-chute dive onto the top of one of the sentinels as it approaches. I am prepared to spend any amount of fate points to make this happen. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 05:00 on Feb 24, 2015 |
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Feb 24, 2015 04:38
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Groin Sklunger The Ambush Site Groin sat in the drivers seat of the gently purring scruntmera, and stared out of the front view-port idly. He had the nagging feeling he'd forgotten something as he watched his scruntpanions (Scrunt Companions) frantically running around in various directions in preparation for something. Had he left the oven on? No his cooking was worse than his driving, and he isn't actually quite sure he knows what an oven looks like, let alone remembers having ever used one before. Had he forgotten the keys to the scruntmera? No, they were in the scruntmera. "Stealth?" muttered Jekk, while looking up at Groin meekly and expectantly. It took him a few minutes. "Awww dagnabbit! The drat fekkin leaves and poo poo!!!" he exploded. He slammed the vehicle into reverse and dangerously backed up suddenly into a large group of bushes, stopping only when the tank hit the trunk of a tree, which provided some nice camouflage from above. Groin grabbed Jekk by the scrunff (Scrunt Scruff), using his non-hosed up arm-leg and dragged him outside of the scruntmera to begin decorating the tank as fast his hosed up leg-arm would carry him. ___________________ The Scruntmera is one square back in the foilage and Groin and Jekk are applying the netting.
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Feb 26, 2015 00:30
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Grimply, on top of the crags Grimply intently peers through the small monocular, and what he sees agitates him. Humies! A lot of humies! Humie bikes! Humie racers! Humie stompas! And even humie wheelyboxes with cannons! That last thing is particularly dangerous, but Grimply is so busy with hissing and being angry at humies that he doesn't fully process it. And just for safety, he also takes a quick peek at Grumb to make sure that the scrunt hasn't come closer.  !!!!!!! He knew it! Grumb is planning to kill him, and even tries to replace him as a scout! That crafty facker! Grimply can't let that happen and has to come up with a fast solution. Well, since scrunt brains aren't known for cohesive logic, the only thing that he can muster is to report his findings faster than Grumb can do. And he does it in one loud burst. "OILADSTHERBE'UMIESCOMMINWITHBIKESANRACERSANSTOMPASANBIGWHEELYBOXESTOO!!!" Grimply flashes a smug look at Grumb, while the scrunts on the ground try to figure out what he just told them. Pleased with himself, Grimply takes to checking the state of his sniper rifle, and also makes sure that Flet did load the right bullets into the new rifle. Ah yes, he told him to load the big ones, and Flet did indeed load a big one. Since his weapons seem to be in order, Grimply surveys the scrunts below him. Everyone seems to be busy with preparations for the ambush except for the limo scrunts. They actually drive back and forth on the road while cheering. That's not ambushy at all! And no one seems to pay them any mind, so this could ruin everything! Grimply jams his grappling hook into the rocky surface, and then quickly descends the rope back down to take care of this. He waddles up to the road and tries to get the attention of the limo scrunts while they drive past. "Oi lads!" "Wheeeeeeeee scruunt" "Would yer stop it and listan ta me?!" "Wheeeeeeeee slaaam" "YER FACKIN GITS STOP YER SHITE RIGHT NOW OR BY THE FATHER I'LL SHOOT YEE" Yelling at the top his lungs got the attention of the excited limo scrunts, and they come to a stop next to him. "Roight! That's betta. Now yer scrunts listan ta me. What shite are yer doing 'ere? We're supposed to ambush the 'umies. Ever 'eard that word? A-M-B-U-S-H. That means ta jump out from 'iding an surprise em!" "We suprise em by driving up on them! *Yeah* *Slam!*" "Nay, nay, nay! That won't work. Tha 'umis just shoot all of us ta bits! Yer gotta be tactikal an 'ide an then jump em!" "But we wanna drive! *Yeah, driving is fun* *Drive for tha slam!*" Any onlooker that would pay close attention to Grimply would notice a thick throbbing vein on his forehead. But since nobody is depraved enough to secretly observe scrunts, that is not the case. However, anyone that knows Grimply well, which is a very small group by default, would know that this vein is a sure sign for him being really close to flipping his poo poo. The stress of having the other scrunts conspire behind his back is already bad enough, and these idiots are just too much for him. He is really close to pulling out his pistol, but reconsiders when he sees Yurik screwing around with a rope on the road. Yurik did take the humie's side back at camp, and Grimply is still salty about that. He figures he can pay him back by dropping these fackers on him. "Now listen, lads. This be simple. Yer get tha facking limo of tha road or yer'll die! This is what tha father told me an tha father never tells me wrong! An then yer lot will report to tha scrunt with tha 'at an stick over dere, roight? 'e'll tell yer what to do. Yer don't want ta die, roight? Cause that's what will 'appen if yer continue this FACKIN AROUND." ---------------------------------------------- 42 vs 42+20 charm test to get the limo scrunts in Yurik's control, he can use my 2Dos Also, GM, I wanna be clear that this is not an intimidate check and I just kinda wrote it like one for fluff And I assume that it's obvious that I'll get back to my spot on the crags Tin Tim fucked around with this message at 22:11 on Feb 27, 2015 |
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Feb 27, 2015 19:02
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Gumbo Bulge, up high. On the top of the bunker, Gumbo rotates slowly. He knows that the key to a successful ambush is control: control the environment, control the enemy and control your bladder. The spot is good, but not ideal: good cover, but too many exits and entrances. Ideally there would be two fewer. The crags are set to collapse, as planned, but there ought to be rock to spare, and there are trees all over the area. He hops down onto the road and flags a passing Scrunt - one of those that had hitched a ride in the limo. "Lissen here boy, get sum othas together and see what ye can do about blockin these roads - anythin you can find that migh slow down a vee-hickul." He jabs a finger at the road to the south "Tha one firs" he says. He releases the unfortunate Scrunt, who stumbles away, and hopes he will remember his instructions. Now he just needs something to do himself. He knows Yurik is preparing a trap for the riders, but someone will need to deal with the aftermath and move in on the fuel truck. Up close and personal - he runs his thumb along his new chainsword and licks his lips. He should find someone else to help, someone who hits hard. He finds Urok stood in the centre of the crossroads clutching a grenade and grinning. A good idea. Gumbo hooks his chainsword to his belt and runs his fat fingers lovingly along his remaining grenades, he hooks an incendiary with his finger and then tosses it up and down a few times. He chuckles. "Awrigh then Urok, Me an you can-." "And me sir!" Pipes Pirk, who has appeared from somewhere, some sort of trash pile by the looks of him. Gumbo cuffs him about the ear in a brotherly manner and then again in a sergeantly manner (much harder). Having lost his train of thought he shrugs, grabs Urok and Pirk by the arms and goes to look for a spot for them to hide. First: A tactics check just to see if there's any way to predict the enemy actions in this area etc - is the truck likely to press on ahead when the rocks fall, or stop and try to figure out whats happening etc: INT 36, trained in tactics Gumbo has a grenade readied in his right hand and his laspistol in his left, since the chainsword can be readied as a free action. He is finding somewhere for Urok and himself to hide which will provide cover from fire but will also be quick to exit so that they can rush the enemy. I'm not sure if this would be the bunker or the treeline, I think it depends on the design of the bunker? Also a command test to wrangle scrunts to try to block off the entrances using whatever is available, rocks, trees etc: first the south, then the north, time, materials etc permitting. I'm honestly not expecting any success here since it seems like we are v low on time. FEL 43, +10 Command. If there's not enough civvie scrunts to do this and help Yurik then Yurik's trap takes priority.
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Feb 28, 2015 20:40
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Clever Gi- uh, Bo-, uh, Thing The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4rI0ODEosRs The forest has previously been home to nothing more offensive than birdsong, foliage and a faint drizzle. A small rabbit-like creature emerges from its burrow and sniffs the air, scenting for any prey. Instead, it gets a lungful of rancid exhaust and even more rancid scrunt - moments later, it is mercifully crushed by the wheels of the sullenly advancing limousine. Mechani-scrunts mutter and swear within, disappointed at being browbeaten into taking part in such a low-tech trap. Once Yurik explained their role, their enthusiasm dampened significantly. They may be faintly disillusioned with Grimply for roping them into this, but they'll do their job - the engine boggles and bips quietly as the limo idles. Once the fat scrunt holding onto the rope feels the yank, the limo will accelerate as quickly as possible - one end is tied to the chassis, the other wrapped around a convenient sturdy rocky spur on the other side of the pass. At this distance it's difficult to see whether it's Yurik or Urok who's poised to give the signal, but once they do, the taut line will hopefully clothesline any bikers off their mounts. Gumbo chews on his grenade, lost in thought. From what he can remember, in this sort of situation an escorted vehicle going through a narrow pass will probably wait until all of its escort are through before making the trip itself. That makes sense. Yeah. He also figures that if the scrunts are trying to steal a vehicle, they'd have to be close to that vehicle. Assuming the plan goes as... planned, all the bikers will be knocked off their mounts, and the truck behind them will probably slow down rather than run over its buddies. So the best place to launch an assault would be from the trees near the pass; the bunker looks very solid, and safe, but it's also well out of melee range, and he'd have a hell of a sprint ahead of him to get into the fray. Grumb perches on the crag, muttering to himself about Scruntinels and rubbing his gravchute. He considers his options for acquiring a walker - if he can somehow lure one close, he might be able to make a death-defying leap into its canopy from the top of the rocks. The autocannon has a fair amount of heft behind it, and could easily brain the pilot if he's lucky enough to connect with it. The fact that he has no idea how to pilot a Sentinel and will be untrained in its weapons makes absolutely no odds to the heavy gunner. The problem is that the sentinels are set to arrive third; if he's looking to surprise them, he'll have to sit out the fight with the Tauroses and the Rough Rider squad; they could hardly miss his autocannon's not-inconsiderable muzzle flash, and hear its report. And if the sentinels know he's there, he'll have to cause enough carnage for them to be willing to risk getting up close to him to flame him out. That might not actually be a problem at all. Groin urgently camouflages the Chimera as the scrunts take up their final positions, nervously clutching weapons before the assault, and saying prayers to whatever hosed-up tiny gods they worship; Scruntfather, Emperor, Omnissiscrunt, or whatever other members of the pantheon they think will look down on them with, if not favour, then less disgust than is the norm.  click 4 big ---------- scrunnnnnt alright, the map's to show you roughly where everyone is. this is not a combat map; squares are approx enough to fit a chimera or similar tank. it is safe to assume your scrunt has found cover. i am still not sure how we're going to manage combat maps for this; we may dispense, and simply use the strategic map, or we may have multiple tacticals based on how combat happens mechanical scrunts are a bit less happy as grimply was mean. they will accelerate when given the signal (free action to tug rope). actually timing this will be kinda difficult; +0 perception or +20 applicable-skill to get the full impact, otherwise one or two bikers may slip through. currently, urok is holding the rope. trade places as required or desired. gumbo made a tactics roll, and as a result, you are expecting bikers to all come through first, truck to come through second. you can't really block off escape routes; the terrain is too open if you disagree with scrunt placement please let me know; this is a mini-update and I will likely start combat sometime on Tuesday. to sum up: kreb - in bunker, ready for cover fire murdelia - in bunker, ready for cover fire gumbo - scrunting in woods ready to assault urok - scrunting in woods ready to assault, hand on rope yurik - scrunting by crags ready to assault grumb - on northern crag, ready to fire large cannon at things grimply - on southern crag, ready to snipe at things groin - in Chimera, presumably ready to pop a smoke grenade and ram things scurrilous - in Chimera turret
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Mar 1, 2015 16:56
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Urok The Crossroads Urok somehow ends up holding some rope, meaning he does not have a weapon in both hands. This state of existence greatly disturbs him as enemies draw near. He walks over to Yurik and throws the rope at his feet. "At your signal " He growls as he walks back to his position, readying a grenade
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Mar 2, 2015 22:23
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Grumb Slanger, a rocky perch "DAG-FRABBIN' COB-TRAB-FLAPPULIN' poo poo-FER BRAINS!" Grumb howls, spitting at Grimply across the divide. "Ah said there AIN'T NOTHIN' COMIN' UP THUR FROM Th'NORTH! An' besides that, I SAW 'EM FIRST! THEY'RE MINE! GIMMEGIMMEGIMME THAT FRACKULIN' WALKYBOX!" The belligerent scrunt's temper tantrum gradually descends into a coughing fit as he shakes his fist at Grimply from behind the rocky pile. Grumb briefly considers plastering the sniper across the rocky outcropping with his autocannon, vividly picturing the majestic crags stained brownish red with scrunt innards. But he thought back, in that moment, to something his mother always used to tell him as a child. "Big little grumb," she would say, "You stop whaling on them little baby scrunts what isn't big enough to hit back." "Bbut MMAWWRRM, They's bein' loud and obnoshulous! Tal'bout dangol' gumbslang gettin' so MAD!" "Listen Grumb Slanger, when you get angry you jus' count to ten an' take a big deep breaths." And then she was eaten by compost devils. Grumb stares daggers at Grimply, seething and counting slowly until at last he gets lost on his way to ten. He never understood the wisdom in this technique, but he'd be damned if he could remember why he was counting a minute or so later. ------------------ I'm ready for combat pretty much whenever. Grumb will seek relative cover when he gets a chance, and try to take advantage of his high ground as well as he can. He would appreciate it if no one wrecked up all the sentinels, but then again he did just lie to everyone so who's to say whether any of you give a poo poo? Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 23:44 on Mar 2, 2015 |
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Mar 2, 2015 22:35
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Murdelia Skurvy Lurking Having been mystified by all the comings and going over the past minutes, Murdelia followed an old Scrunt instinct that kicks in when confused, afraid or aroused. She followed some other scrunts and nestled in a filthy dark hole in the ground and awaited. further stimulation. She had discovered too late that the unusually odd and unpleasant scrunt Kreb was in here as well, but he seemed intent on lurking and hissing to himself. Now scrunts were climbing over things, revving engines, shouting orders and preparing elaborate schemes and plots, many of which were related to the incoming packs of human vehicles. She had no particular care for wheelyboxes or walkyboxes or wheelycycles, but she was also in favour of general violence and stealing things. If such a thing to be blown up or stolen was a fuel tanker or scout car, then so be it. Shifting slightly in the pile of dead leaves that had blown into the bunker, she cleans the focussing lens of her las-shooter with some spit and balances the barrel on Arnika's head, who is acting as a combination spotter/stabilising mount. Whatever to come into the intersection would face her full scrunty wrath.
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Mar 3, 2015 13:06
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Scrunty Rider The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGkQjhgh4Qo The scrunts finish scrabbling urgently around and settle into their positions. Yurik clasps the rope, ready to give the limousine riders their signal. Most of them are focused intently on the idea of going as fast as possible as quickly as possible, but a small, querulous voice is complaining that there's all these trees in front of them and what happens when they take the handbrake off? It is swiftly hissed into silence by the other scrunts. Minutes tick by as the sound of engines gets louder, and beady eyes peer intently from the foliage. Suddenly, Gumbo clutches at himself in distress as he realises what the approaching motorbikes are doing - he hosed up, they're not all coming through first! They're forming a holding pattern around the truck, five in front and five behind - not only does it mean they won't catch all the bikers in their cunning plan, but if that rope's strong enough, then the approaching truck will probably yank the limo out of the woods like a maggot from a wound! Thinking quickly, he uses his belt buckle to glint sunlight at the limousine driver to get his attention. Squinting, the unsuspecting mechani-scrunt turns to see what's causing that flash, and sees:  Once Gumbo sees that he's caught the driver's attention, he attempts to communicate that they'd better be ready with their knives to cut the rope.  Perceiving a terrible threat, the limo scrunts wordlessly draw their knives. Perfect, Gumbo thinks. Glad we got that sorted. ------- The Convoy The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Technical Sergeant Hetzenbauer guns the engine of his combat cycle and accelerates to the front of the pack, melta lance stowed in its holder on the side of his bike. He's conflicted about his current assignment - sure, it's nice to not have to worry about the usual enemy concerns this far behind friendly lines - no artillery, no strafing runs, no foraging semi-eaten starch ration packs - but he's been told in no uncertain terms that what they're escorting cannot fall into enemy hands. Which, in his experience, usually means you will be ambushed. His squad's been issued with some reasonably heavy ordnance for what's ostensibly a light escort, but of course they can't give him enough for it to look suspicious. He'd feel a lot happier if those loving tanks could hurry the gently caress up gently caress dammit sitting ducks out here He takes a breath and calms himself. It's fine, Tertius. It's fine. The decoy convoy's way up north somewhere, under enough guard to make it look really important. This truck's got enough escort to make it a hell of a challenge for anyone who's just after fuel; no-one will have any reason to attack, and only High Command knows what's holy poo poo is that a rope- twaannnnngggggggggggg ------- The Trap The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Yurik managed to time it perfectly. With the guttural bellow of a tortured engine in far too low a gear, the limousine sprang into action, accelerating and drawing the line taut across the road. The front four bikers were catapulted from their mounts as their bikes skidded and sparked to a halt twenty or thirty metres down the road; their sergeant managed to avoid the rope. In an effort to avoid splattering its escort, the fuel truck slammed on the brakes as bikers rolled out of the way or flattened themselves against the road to avoid being squashed - its deceleration was aided when it plowed through the cable. It would have yanked the limo into its wake had the mechaniscrunts not had their blades out and ready to release the tension. The rear five bikers drew up alongside the truck, uncertain as to what was going on. Unfortunately, once the limo was released, it roared straight forward and crashed into a convenient tree with a sickening crunch. The scream of tortured metal is something the bikers immediately understand - that rope was no accident, they're under attack! All of a sudden, the sky falls. ------- The Crag The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Grumb curses and swears as he boots the living poo poo out of the potential rockslide. It's not as easy as it looks - he shifts position, as he can't quite get the purchase he needs to - there! With a rumble, the boulders begin their cascade down the sheer walls of the pass. Unfortunately, Grumb's standing on one. Both Barrys peer down from the top of the pass as they desperately watch Grumb's descent. It's almost like time has frozen - he falls so slowly, plummeting into the abyss and bellowing like a wounded ox. Eventually, scrunt Barry realises what's going on, once Grumb's life has flashed before his eyes for the third or fourth time. '"'Ey boss! Yer gravchute's turned on max!" It seems the gunner's spastic flailing has, luckily, hit the ON button. Grumb will not die today. At least, not to a fall. With frantic swimming motions he makes his way to a small ledge, hefts his autocannon, and waits for his heartrate to fall back to non-lethal levels. ------- The Business At Hand The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Brutal. Horrible. Mercifully short. All words to describe scrunts, and by extension, combat with scrunts. Initiative posted:Bikers 14 Tauroses and Sentinels will join combat in subsequent rounds; it can be assumed they heard what's going on, and also that radios exist. The bikers have already acted and are combat-ready. Four are standing; six are mounted; they are all out of the way of the truck. They will not necessarily move as a squad but will try to keep no more than a square away from a buddy. Truck is currently stationary.  we ain't doing tactical maps yet unless you need them. Assume you have cover; each square is approx eight square metres. Everyone is much larger than they should be so you can see what's going on. ------- scrunnnnnnnt Gumbo got a 1 on his Fellowship test to do sign language, giving the scrunt driver a hefty bonus to his intelligence roll to figure out what the gently caress is going on. The driver passed. Four bikers are de-mounted; one is quite seriously wounded. The limo's hosed and needs repairs. Grumb failed his +20 Strength check to stay on the rockface; this would ordinarily be a fall of four metres, but he managed to flail around and turn the gravchute on, so no fall damage. He's on a convenient ledge with a couple boulders for cover, but not as much cover as there was at the peak. It's also definitely within sentinel heavy flamer range; this might make them more willing to approach him, but it also means he's within heavy flamer range. We will try combat without proper grid maps. Be descriptive. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 19:03 on Mar 3, 2015 |
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Mar 3, 2015 19:00
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Yurik Scraglagger The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 "Nnnnnnnowwwwwwww!" The last time Yurik had set a plan of his into motion it had resulted in his fellow captives abandoning him in a mad scuttle for freedom while he remained trapped in a cage, shouting and fuming. This time things worked out far more satisfactorily as the limousine's engine roared, the rope twanged taut, and the sounds of humies being violently dismounted from their vehicles filled the air along with the screeching of brakes, the sound of a limousine smashing into trees, falling rocks, Grumb Slanger shouting helplessly as he tumbled downhill, and an assorted chorus of general mayhem. He cackled uproariously, slapping his assistant on the back with his thinkin' stick as he chortled with scrunty glee at the sight of humies sprawled painfully along the road (the technoscrunts slamming limo-first into a tree was, he had to admit, a welcome bonus). "Ha! Now that's how ya' make a plan come together Hack m'boy! Didja see that one humie go arse over elbows?," he asked, slapping his knees and wheezing with laughter...laughter which quickly trailed off as he watched one of the humies slide underneath the rope. Underneath the rope. He hadn't counted on any of the humies being capable of such a feat. It was unthinkable! Inconceivable! It was downright unfair! There was something wrong about a person whose limbs were so long and gangly being so graceful, and yet here they were...and here the humie was, still on his motorcycle no less, which meant there was now an angry humie on a motorcycle in close proximity to him. Things were, Yurik decided, no longer going quite according to plan. "Oh fack oh fack oh fack!," he swore as he dropped the rope and quickly scrambled backwards before the humie could identify him as the most important scrunt of the bunch, fumbling for the rifle that he'd acquired back at the farmstead. Yurik was passingly familiar with firearms, like any scrunt of worth (for certain values of "worth") but he was far from a crack soldier, which is why he managed to get his arm tangled up in the rifle's strap, jerking and twisting his body around like a mangy cat in a sack before toppling over backwards, thinkin' cap askew, rifle chattering and sending a hail of bullets haphazardly through the air as he accidentally jerked on the trigger. Hello I would like to scrunt. Notice that I have linked my character sheet now which contains much important information in the form of numbers and words. Dear GM, I have no loving clue what numbers and/or words to give to mantraps and my snare mine but you can probably assume that I won't be using them yet. For my action Yurik is going to
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Mar 5, 2015 08:33
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Suppressing Fire is a full action, although given that a half-move would pretty much just move you out of cover and keep you in the same square this may not be a bad thing. You can get four bikers plus the sarge in your suppressing fire; two mounted, two unmounted. If you pin them they'll make for cover as quickly as possible
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Mar 5, 2015 08:44
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:Suppressing Fire is a full action, although given that a half-move would pretty much just move you out of cover and keep you in the same square this may not be a bad thing. Whoops, forgot that it was a full action but I also didn't realize I was already in cover. Assume that Yurik's fumbling retreat is purely cosmetic then. I'll go ahead with the suppression, especially against mounted bikers. I don't want them charging anybody with an explosive lance.
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Mar 5, 2015 08:47
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Grimply, on top of the crags Through his scope, Grimply watches as some of the humie bikers tumble into Yurik's trap. He cackles madly at the prospect of taking out the helpless humies on the ground. But one of the humies actually manages to slide through under the rope! "A crafty foe is a better prey", whispers the scruntfather into is ear. Yes, that's exactly right! If Grimply wants the other scrunts to like him again and not murder him in his sleep, he needs to impress them! As always, the father protects and shows him the way. But just as he's about to center his scope on the biker, Flet bursts into a fit of laughter. "Ehehehehe...tha scrunt....ehehehe...'e's so dumb...ehehehe" "Fack, what yer going on about, lad?" "Ehehehe..tha scrunt...'e fell down cause 'e's dumb...ehehehe" "Yer not makin' sense lad! What scrunt?" "Ehehehe...tha big one over dere...ehehehe..'" Grimply glances to the side, and can't see Grumb anymore. Could it be? Could the father have solved this problem for him? It must be! Grimply can only hope that Grumb fell down all the way and died. What a glorious day! Humies to kill, and no more mean stinking big scrunts to worry about! With a happy whistle, Grimply centers his scope, and tells Flet to use his shiny humie glass too ---------------------------------------------- I order Flet to half turn aim, giving me a +10 to my shot Then I half turn aim, set my rifle to overload mode and make a called shot on the head of the biker boss 39 vs 105 (45 +10 +10 +10 +10 +10 +10) 14+5 Energy That's kinda crap damage but it's too early to fate point so whatever "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 40(36 currently) / full round reload / Accurate, Reliable(Unreliable with overload), Felling (1)) GM reminder that I'm very small and have a camo cloak Tin Tim fucked around with this message at 19:46 on Mar 5, 2015 |
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Mar 5, 2015 19:43
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Kreb, Scruntbunk Alpha Kreb loves bunkers. They combine the cool darkness of a burrow with the reassuring solidity and securty of being trapped in a metal box. Kreb has also largely ignored whatever plan the other scrunts were making. He isn't really even sure what they're doing here. Or what he is doing here. But it's nice in the bunker, dark and quiet, so he settles down to have a little nap and dream dreams of CONSUMING BIOMASS and other such totally normal scrunt things. Unfortunately, his blissful sleep is interrupted by the sound of motorcycle engines in the distance. Kreb's bulgy, yellow eyes snap open, and he scuttles on all fours over to the mouth of the bunker, dragging his multilaser behind him. He pinpoints the source of the noise, the approaching convoy, and begins firing. Kreb wants to fire generally at the motorcycles, I forgot all the rolls for this game, I'll come back and edit them in
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Mar 5, 2015 23:50
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Urok In The Woods With a hoot, Urok whips his grenade toward the general direction of the bikers, not even bothering to aim. As, soon as the grenade leaves his hand, he begins to ready his shock glove and Axe. _____ Will edit in rolls
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Mar 6, 2015 19:30
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Murdelia Skurvy Scrunting in bunker As the Rough Riders slide and skid about from the sudden clotheslining assault, Murdelia picks one wearing an antique-looking helmet with a spike coming out of the top. His rebellious, unique uniform choice will be the end of him. She squeezes the trigger repeatedly while pointing the lasgun at him, Arnika wincing slightly as the barrel heats up. ______________________________ Hoping to hit a mounted rough rider. BS 40 + 10 Aim + 0 Semi-Auto + 10 Short Range + 5 Comrade = 65 vs 43 to hit? With semi auto that's two hits?
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Mar 8, 2015 05:26
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Groin Sklunger The Ambush, Scruntmera Action! Groin has been given strict orders to wait for the signal before unleashing the Scruntmera. Or at least he thinks he was given orders? He's usually given orders to wait for a signal, and as usual, he doesn't know what that signal is exactly. It could be the landslide, or maybe the rope trap, or perhaps other Scrunts opening fire? "gently caress ya'll!" yells Groin at the general area of bikers and the truck, as he launches the Scruntmera out of its hiding spot, ripping off its protective camo netting. "gently caress Y'ALL!" _______________________ Groin is performing a Ram! action toward the swarm of bikers, or perhaps the truck. Whichever comes first!
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Mar 9, 2015 00:50
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Grumb Slanger, atop a precarious precipice Grumb itches to unload a barrage from clive upon the bikers below, but as he struggles to adjust his footing on the rocky edge wall he has a moment to consider his tactical options. The autocannon puts out a mighty wallop - but if he uses it on the bikers, will the oncoming buggies be scared off before they get within range? Grumb didn't want to draw too much attention to himself lest he be focused and pinned up here. He does a quick scan of his person. Fire bomb, fire bomb, combat drugs, plasma bomb, lovely little pistol, some cigars and a shitload of ammunition. The fire bombs look beautiful in this lighting, although Grumb was fairly certain there was a reason he was not supposed to use them. Frowning, Grumb begins to reach for his scruntpistol when suddenly Groin Sklunger comes blazing out from the underbrush popping a sick chimera wheelie. Grumb smiles a grateful-yet-dirty grin as he takes aim and begins unloading burst fire down upon the bikers with the help of his new friend Clive, confident that there would be something more distracting than himself after all. "Barry! Fire on 'em with me!", Grumb shouts upward, and his cousin is thrilled to oblige. "I though'chood never ask", Barry calls back, a single tear welling up in his eye. "t'BRAKKATA!", Clive interjects enthusiastically. ----------------------------- BS45 + 10 short range + 10 Aim + 5 Comrade bonus + 0 Burst Fire = 70. I rolled a 67 for a success! 3d10 + 8 damage 10+7+4+8= 29 damage to the bikers, preferably in descending order of fanciness. I want to engage the tauruses, but I think it would be best to wait until they're a little closer. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 13:27 on Mar 10, 2015 |
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Mar 9, 2015 01:31
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Gumbo Bulge, the roadside. Gumbo grins as a series of humans tumble to the ground. He stands up out of cover for a moment to give the attack order. "Awright ya bastards! Get on em!" he yells, in what he hopes is an inspiring manner. The fuel truck rolls to a stop fairly close, and he makes to throw his grenade before pausing. Something isn't quite right here. Beside him, Pirk fires wildly in the direction of the bikers, Gumbo takes a precious few seconds to think. He looks at the grenade clutched in his chubby fingers, a small flame stencilled on the side, and then at the fuel truck, adorned with yellow signs with a similar icon, then back at the grenade. Maybe this is not such a good idea. Sighing theatrically, he hooks the grenade back onto his belt and rips off his remaining frag, losing the pin in the process. He slings it toward the nearest riders and crouches back into cover. There is a bang. Unhooking his chainsword, he revs once and then nods at Urok, a smile on his face. Time for a fight. Half action to switch grenades, half action to throw at the nearest standing or mounted biker (just whoever is active in the fight), free action to ready chainsword. Also a get them order as a free action. I'm assuming a half action to switch grenades but if you don't think this is necessary i would have taken an aim action instead. Also I'm not sure if comrade bonus applies to throwing grenades but Pirk is providing covering fire if so. Throw: 34 BS (is it bs to throw a grenade?? I'm at work without book) Get Them: +0 Command test. Fellowship 43, +10 Command, Air of Authority Phoon fucked around with this message at 15:41 on Mar 9, 2015 |
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Mar 9, 2015 15:37
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Stop Me And Buy One The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wy9r2qeouiQ it's them again!! Technical Sargeant Hetzenbauer reels from the thunderous rockslide some metres behind him. He keeps enough of his wits about him to not turn and look; he's spent enough time on mining detail to know that even through his goggles there's always the chance of a particularly vigorous shard of rock taking an eye. This knowledge probably saves his life - he's facing in the right direction to see Grimply's red dot flickering over his bike's armoured windshield and up towards him! With a surge of the accelerator he pushes his motorbike from a standing start into a monstrous wheelie just as the scrunt pulls the trigger; a patch of tarmac flashes into vapor, but the sergeant remains unharmed as he attempts to make his scream of "SNIPER!" heard over the microbead. His men don't hear in time. Jagged fire rips from the bunker as Murdelia opens up with her repurposed surgical laser. The front trooper's bike bears the brunt of the fire, as the first blast wrecks the radiator and the second ignites the fuel tank. The pointman's too far away from the truck or any of his squad to cause them any damage other than psychological; his screams are tortured as he burns alive in a flash of hot promethium. By contrast, Yurik cowers behind a rock, pokes his rifle over the top, and holds down the trigger, both hands clapped firmly over his ears. Wait, what? Bullets spackle and spang off the side of the fuel truck, but are too low calibre to penetrate its armoured side. They're more than enough to worry the bikers, though, and the remaining three troopers on Yurik's side of the truck press themselves as close to the ground as possible to escape the withering hail of fire. Gumbo winds up carefully, and hurls a frag grenade into the midst of the bikes. Unfortunately his tiny, beady eyes still have some confusion between small and far away; under the mistaken impression that the bikes are towering 10ft monstrosities, he overshoots fantastically. The grenade completely misses the cluster of three bikers that Gumbo was aiming at, bonks off the side of the truck, and plops straight into the lap of the wounded trooper who'd pulled himself behind his fallen bike to regroup. A short shower of meat ensues; the scrunt manages to successfully pass this off as intentional, and a ragged cheer bursts forth from nearby comrades. Scurrilous mutters to himself urgently as he "communes" with the APC's machine spirit. It's actually a drat sight harder than it looks; the scrunt's vision strobes in and out of lurid imagery of circuitry and electricity as he sweeps the tank's multilaser back and forth like an avenging angel. Bikes wither and die under his- oh, gently caress, he's not turned the drat thing on. The scrunt collects himself, and hopes that no-one noticed. A fraction of a second later, Groin roars the Chimera to life by punching the gas. This is not a colourful descriptive phrase - he has his leg-arm hooked round the steering wheel and his arm-leg pounding mercilessly on the gas pedal in some misguided attempt at coaxing more speed out of the APC. His intention is to ram, but there's only so much ground he can cover in six seconds. He continues to make for the fuel truck and surrounding bikers at full speed. Urok follows the example of Gumbo in hoiking a grenade as hard as he can. Unlike Gumbo, he managed to land his bomb slap in the middle of a cluster of bikers. Unlike Gumbo, he has the satisfaction of seeing all three of them caught in the blast. Also unlike Gumbo, he was not paying close attention to what he threw; a faint twinge of horror fills the scrunt, and all nearby scrunts, as he watches a coruscating bloom of fire envelop the bikers, a matter of feet away from a tanker carrying what is presumably highly flammable fuel. Two of the bikers manage to wheel the body of their bikes between them and the blast; the third is not so lucky, and he screams in panic as his armour catches light. All three bikes are a write-off; rubber drips and pools as flames lick their chassis. The truck driver reacts as expected, given the sheer mayhem that has erupted in the past few seconds. He slams on the gas and yanks the steering wheel all the way to the right, while yelling incoherently. The mechaniscrunts look on approvingly as the big-rig momentarily skitters along on one set of wheels, before crashing back to earth with a bone-shuddering jolt. The truck careens off towards the south, out of control! Kreb hisses absently as he watches the large vehicle trundle off away from him. Then he hisses violently as he remembers it's full of lovely chemicals and it's getting away! Panicking, he reacts in his normal manner and fires wildly from the place he's holed up in. Shot after shot flicker towards the bikers; one crumples to the ground with a steaming hole through his sternum, while another takes a nasty burn to the thigh. He grits his teeth; that's his brakin' leg. The Tauroses and Sentinels quicken their advance; neither are in range to realistically contribute to combat at this point, but the Tauroses are moments away and the Sentinels not far behind. Grumb observes the sergeant popping a sweet wheelie with a jaundiced eye. In the past half-hour he's scaled a mountain, fallen off it, accidentally saved his own live through the application of technology he does not understand, and caused a rockslide with nothing more than his own brute strength and boots. He punctuates his disdain by carefully pumping a barrage of shells into the sarge's bike, which explodes, satisfyingly. The charred stump of the sarge's lance clatters to earth. The bikers are in a sorry state; only two of them have bikes any more, and they're pinned down by aimless fire from Yurik along with another bikeless one. The other three don't have bikes either. What they do have, however, is radios. And grenades. The leftmost active biker pops a smoke grenade in the middle of the road, as the other two hurl frags north and south. Thick, red, choking smoke obscures their position as the bikers hurl themselves prone and as the frags whistle towards the scrunts; the one aimed at Yurik detonates harmlessly some metres from his position, but the one aimed at Urok and Gumbo is murderously accurate. Thankfully the scrunts are still in cover and haven't begun their charge, otherwise it might have actually done some damage. Still, the bikers appear to have regrouped from the initial assault, and under cover of the smoke manage to pull themselves together again. Scrunts near the smoke cloud, and scrunts near radios set to Severan frequencies, can hear panicked yelling. It sounds like "PACKAGE COMPROMISED! SATURATION PATTERN!""  rough indication of goings-on. Bikers are now confined to a single square - -30 to hit them at range, -10 in melee ---- scrunnnnt Grimply's sarge dodged the shot! Murdelia shot a dude twice in the motorcycle and got a righteous fury (10, 9 on damage dice)! Even though the lasgun's got -2 to damage outside of short range, events still got out of hand and the bike exploded! Not, like, "exploded enough to wound anyone"; it's just the usual "righteous fury kills mooks" rule. One dead Yurik suppresses the three bikers on his side. They are suppressed. Suppression has occurred. Gumbo rolled an 87 for his grenade, hell yeah. He missed but only scattered like a metre. The wounded trooper is comprehensively dead; bike tarnished but mostly functional. Get Them! sweeping order is in effect; +4 damage to all scrunts using Comrade assist orders in melee/ranged combat, until Phoon's next turn. Oh, and two dead. Scurrilous rolled a 95 for his multilaser attack!! That's one point off a jam!! I considered using a fate point on it but then rolled a 97 so I didn't!!! He just misses. Groin tried to ram but fell short by like twenty metres. Each square is 8m, remember; Chimera goes four squares on a full move. Urok neglected to state which grenade he wanted to throw, so I chose randomly. 1 = smoke, 2 = frag, 3 = fire.  . However, he hit on his BS test, so he didn't catch the truck with it.All three of his targets are dismounted; one is on fire, next to a truck full of promethium, and will move randomly. The truck managed to gently caress up its Floor It! test by an unprecedented six degrees of success; it will move semi-randomly down the road. Because it's out of control, it's really slow. You could probably sprint after it if you don't mind the chance of being run over. Kreb didn't say how he's attacking so I assumed it was aim-full-auto. Scored 2 DoS for two hits (including Lasgun Barrage + scope); managed to hit two bikers, wounding one and killing the other! Three dead! Tauroses will be here in two rounds, attacking in three. Sentinels in three, attacking in four. Grumb did shitloads of damage to a guy who's already dodged once this round. Boom! Four dead! Bikers popped blind-smoke, missed Yurik, and connected with Urok and Gumbo. Eleven damage, all soaked by cover and armour. I was kinda hoping to throw that smoke grenade at scrunts and then have them lance you, but whatever. They ain't pinned anymore. scrrunnnnttt
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Mar 10, 2015 00:28
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Groin Sklunger Mayhem! Scruntmera, poo poo's going down. Bikes are exploding, people are on fire, trucks are power sliding out of control... The truck! Groin spits out a curse as his hosed up assortment of limbs do their magic on the controls, and he attempts to copy the stunt the truck driver just pulled. "Where you goin city boyyyyy!?" he snarls. "Two kin play at tha game kid!" he yells glaring at the truck. "Reach ferrr tha skyyyyyy!" adds Jekk. The Scruntmera begins to spin wildly and dangerously after the truck. ___________________ I want to try and power slide tokyo drift style into the truck. I don't know what action that would be so I'll leave that to your discretion GM. Moola fucked around with this message at 01:42 on Mar 10, 2015 |
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Mar 10, 2015 01:36
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Grumb Slanger, atop a precarious precipice Grumb begins to hack and gasp as a billow of red smoke drifts lazily over him, stinging his eyes and mouth. "Aw, piss!" he hisses, clearing a big phlegmy lump from his throat and spitting it in Grimply's general direction. There was no way he'd get a clear shot at the bikes now, all cloudy as they were. Searching for a juicy target, his attention drifts down the road to the oncoming taurus squad. Their distant lawnmower-engine whine had ramped up to a strained groan as they punched the gas and started driving full-speed toward the ambush site. Catching a glimpse of the glimmering noob tubes affixed to the war buggies, Grumb decides that they needed to be dealt with as soon as possible. He takes a moment to aim and releases a volley of cannon fire in their direction. ----------------------------- BS45 -10 long range + 10 Aim + 5 Comrade bonus + 0 Burst Fire = 50. I rolled a 52 for a narrow Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 19:20 on Mar 10, 2015 |
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Mar 10, 2015 13:49
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Stop Me And Buy One - Addendum The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Suddenly, one of the bikers remembers that he's on fire. He doesn't move anywhere this round, but instead you can see him sinking to the ground and thrashing about as the smoke descends. He's not out of the fight yet, but he's not dampened his flames down, either. ---------- Also, Tauroses are now in Normal range for the autocannon (barely), so that's one DoS with +4 Damage from Phoon's order
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Mar 10, 2015 18:57
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Woo! 3d10+8+4, rolls came up [10+3+2]+8+4 = 27, with another righteous fury! This gun is awesome. Would I seriously get to roll this damage up to 3 times with 5 degrees of success?
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Mar 10, 2015 19:17
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Yurik Scraglagger The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Yurik ducked back behind the rock he had taken up a tactical position behind just as the incoming grenade detonated, shrapnel pinging off his thinkin' cap as various other things caught fire and/or exploded. Exaggerated stories not withstanding, this was Yurik's first real taste of all-out combat as opposed to the short and nasty frank exchanges of views sprinkled throughout the typical scrunt's existence. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Getting to watch humies die was a hoot and a half. Getting shot back at was decidedly less so. The fuel truck lurched drunkenly to the south, Groin and the Chimera in hot (or lukewarm) pursuit, while the remaining bikers dropped a smoke grenade at their feet as panicked chatter went up over the nearby radios. While the knowledge of what exactly "Saturation Pattern" meant in this context was undoubtedly rattling around somewhere in Yurik's brain, sifting through the jumble of information that had been stamped into it was often like sifting through a haystack made of rusty needles looking for one needle in particular, and the added stresses of being on an active battlefield didn't help much either. Finally managing to disentangle his gun from around his shoulders, Yurik peered scruntily down the sights towards the billowing cloud of smoke, watchful for any sort of movement. As a free action rolling Scholastic Lore: Tactica Imperialis to see if I recognize what that radio call is about and I get a 71 on a TN 43 roll so that's a no. Then since Yurik can't shoot for poo poo I'll full action aim.
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Mar 11, 2015 21:01
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Murdelia Skurvy Scrunting in bunker Murdelia watches her target explode with glee, that was good poo poo. Then they throw smoke down and the formerly clear targets become shifting silhouettes. It's probably too far to throw a grenade, and gently caress climbing out of cover, so... "I SEE ONE!" the enthusiastic spotter Arnika shouts (screams?), shaking the barrel and jostling the light pressure on the trigger. ______________________________ A single shot at a random smoke target. BS 40 + 10 Aim + 10 Standard Attack + 10 Short Range + 5 Comrade - 30 Smoke = 45 vs 42 to hit? That's kind of lucky.
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Mar 12, 2015 05:51
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Grimply, on top of the crags Grimply is faced with a unique situation; he slowly begins to doubt that the father still watches over him! Not because the humie biker dodged his shot, things like that can happen and the father does not solve everything for his servants. But because Grumb apparently isn't dead and also killed the humie he was aiming for. Such injustice! Maybe Grimply should have prayed a bit more in the last days, or maybe he gave some wrong guidance to other scrunts? Many things could have invoked the ire of the father, but right now also isn't a good time to ponder this issue. Below Grimply there is chaos and battle, so he returns to what he knows and fires into the big smoke cloud. "Mastah? Uhh..Mastah?" "What's it lad? Don't yer see I'm tryin' ta shoot 'ere?" "Uhhm...I think it's going ta rain...A drop just 'it me..." ---------------------------------------------- I again order Flet to half turn aim, giving me a +10 to my shot Then I half turn aim, set my rifle to overload mode and make a shot into the smoke cloud 8 vs 75 (45 +10 +10 +10 +10 +10 +10 -30) 9+5 Energy help I can't roll good damage "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 40(32 currently) / full round reload / Accurate, Reliable(Unreliable with overload), Felling (1)) GM reminder that I'm very small and have a camo cloak
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Mar 12, 2015 21:04
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Urok The Crossroads AMBUSH! An avalanche of pulverized rock falls down the side of a cliff as Urok whips his grenade toward the bikers. In the moments it takes for him to ready and throw his grenade, the foreplay of combat commences. Las fire runs after the rocks, smashing into the formation of bikers, lapping around the edges of a big truck. The bikers attempt to return fire, and las fire speeds past Urok and {b] Gumbos [/b] head, smacking the rocks and trees around them. Over the chaotic noise of combat, the bikers pop smoke and scream: " PACKAGE COMPROMISED! SATURATION PATTERN " Dark powdery dust and rock blasts into the air, expanding like a stormcloud, blinding in its density. Great plumes of smoke and dust rise from the roads surface as the scrunts incendiaries impact, and the bikers smoke grenades expand. Intent on breaking the bikers before they could achieve cohesion, Urok charges without finesse, devoid of grace. Aware that the smoke hides him as much as it hides the enemy, he readies the gorgeously crafted Axe and flies through the smoke. Hot, savage heat lets him know that bikes and flesh are aflame nearby, bunched muscles propel him over the road, no longer in cover, bright alien eyes jingling around his neck, reflecting the flame around him. Urok raises his Shock glove, a crackling illumination throwing a halo round his fist. In the aura of the brightness, the power cells in within the gloves chain whine as they speed up. He feels the weapon spirit hunger for blood. He guns the motor, whining with electricity, saw-teeth cutting through the air and prepares to meet the bikers with a shrieking charge. ________________________________ Charge group of bikers, preferably the one with the radio, but whatever 53 (WS) + 20 (Charge) = 73 vs MyRoll of 14. Hit to the body.
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Mar 13, 2015 20:24
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Gumbo Bulge, the roadside. Gumbo grunts in frustration. That grenade was less impressive than he had hoped, though it was quite funny when it landed on that man. The humans had shouted something that was niggling at him. He cocks his head to the side "Saturation pattern" it was, and it does sound familiar, and doesn't sound positive. His thoughts are interrupted as Urok hops up beside him and launches toward the smoke. Gumbo raises his chainsword and dashes out beside him, glancing back once to check Pirk is following. "GET THE FUCKERS" he yells Scholastic Lore: Tactics check as a free action to attempt to understand "saturation pattern": INT 36 Charge at the nearest biker not engaged by Urok with a close quarters order for Pirk: WS 45+20+5(chainsword)+10(ganging up bonus from Pirk, I'm guessing this isn't affected by double team but if it is another +10)-10 = 70 Another Get Them Order as a free action: +0 Command test. FEL 43+10 Command, Air of Authority Also Gumbo has Parry+10 for the inevitable attack next turn and also counterattack if successful Phoon fucked around with this message at 10:40 on Mar 14, 2015 |
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Mar 14, 2015 10:35
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There Will Come Soft Rains The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lqBX30Ona5I Grimply fires at the first indistinct figure that he can make out. Thing is, the reason he can make it out is because it's billowing smoke and flames - he draws a bead on the flaming PDF biker. Grimply has heard vague murmurings about firefighters creating firebreaks, and taking this advice to heart in his own way, casually blows the trooper's leg off. It is uncertain how helpful this is, but at least the screaming's stopped. Murdelia follows suit, blazing away into the smoke - at this range the crackling energy from her laser hits home with full force. It's hard to tell, but judging from the way that arm is hanging, she thinks she's winged someone. Yurik displays un-scruntlike restraint by aiming all turn; other scrunts are setting people on fire, and it's a rare individual who could resist the temptation to join in. He thinks to himself about the sheer perversion of these Severans, apparently under the impression "Saturation Pattern" is something to do with watersports. Scurrilous is one such individual - he moans faintly in frustration as he realises he hasn't a hope in hell of connecting with the turret gun, and instead swivels the multilaser to cover the section of road the Tauroses are set to emerge from. Meanwhile, Groin swivels the Chimera in an attempt to side-slam the truck. It just goes to show that under the feculence and general mental issues of the scrunt, there ticks a fine tactical mind. Had he slammed front-first into the truck, the APC's reinforced armour and dozer blade likely would have done enough damage to cripple it. A side-slam has significantly less force behind it, just enough to get the truck to stop. Tires screech and clutches shudder, but Groin expertly legs the steering at just the right moment, and the tank slams round into the side of the truck's cab, forcing it bumper-first into a tree. The driver's face slams into the steering wheel, but he's still kicking - he groggily wrenches the wheel in his attempts to manoeuvre the truck out of the narrow furrow it has plowed, and feverishly yanks at the gearstick. Somehow the wheels hit the dirt in just the right way, and the truck frees itself from its mire! It roars off into reverse, and then lunges forward again, scraping past the Chimera. Urok pounds into the haze and lashes a savage strike at a prone biker's kneecap - he happens to be closest to one who's drawn a curved sabre, rather than one who earlier hurled a grenade. His shock glove connects soundly, as he bats away the trooper's futile attempt to parry - the leg crunches under the assault, but is still functional. The capacitors don't seem to pack quite the charge they should do, and the biker isn't stunned. Gumbo plods after him, chainsword raised. His mind is revving with excitement, and he knows for a fact that "saturation pattern" means "imminent retreat" in Severan books. It comes from the type of pillow they're requesting from HQ, to cry into and also to bite. Following Urok's lead, he also goes for the legs, to stop his targets from getting up again. His new chainsword whistles through the air; he's still not used to the balance, and it's a savage, clumsy swing that would easily have been parried had the trooper been standing, and had he not been shot by an agonising re-purposed surgical laser seconds beforehand. Unfortunately for the biker, the sword leaps like a salmon past his defences and effortlessly removes his left leg. The scrunts continue to be impressed by his actions, and another ragged cheer erupts. Kreb hisses and yees futilely as he blasts into the smoke. Unfortunately, nothing connects. The Tauroses roar round a forest corner, only to be met by a long-range fusillade from Scurrilous, who crotchthrusts again and again in time with the multilaser's cooling cycle. The scrunt's aim is thrown off by Groin's ram, though, and, coupled with the long range, means that none of his shots connect. With a remarkable show of discipline, none of the Tauros drivers so much as flinch, such is their trust in range and speed. The Sentinels mince ever-closer, as well. Soon they'll be in range of the big guns, and might in turn need to trust to cover. The bikers spring to their feet in a heartbeat now that the scrunts are upon them. They seem resolved to sell their lives dearly; from what can be seen through the thick smoke, two draw longarms of some sort, while the other two brandish sabres. They adopt defensive postures, and guardedly approach the scrunts. The gunners are yelling into their radiobeads, still. "SOFT CONTACT SOFT CONTACT INFERNUS INFERNUS NOW NOW NOW" Grumb yawns, and disgorges another volley of high-calibre shells at the approaching Tauroses. Unfortunately for the gunner, they heard his previous assault on the biker sergeant; the weird electrical engines of the Tauros are pretty noisy, but you can certainly hear the crack over them. And see the flash. Autocannon rounds stitch towards the vehicles, mulching the rockcrete and throwing up splinters, but the lead one jinks aside at the last second, and his comrades follow suit. The cars surge onwards, undeterred.  ------- lol none of you know if artillery's coming or not grimply kills flaming biker Murdelia shoots a biker in the arm for 13 damage; some of this is soaked, but the guy's now Crippled and can't do more than a half-action a turn until healed, unless he wants 2 wounds. Yurik "aims" (idk what that means), and Scurrilous goes into overwatch. Top speed overwatch. Groin sideslams the truck! No damage to the chimera, as that's how it works for some reason. Truck is stopped and has a tree dead-ahead, so it can't just accelerate out, it needs to reverse and then go forward again. Driver tests against stunning, but got a 7 so ain't stunned. Then he got a 2 on his Floor It! test. Sorry guys, he's better off than he was before the ram. Urok still hasn't said what he's actually attacking with, nor has he updated his loving character sheet with weapon stats. For about the third time, shock glove chain attachments give +1 Dam, +1 Pen, Tearing. So he's attacking with a single punch from base shock glove stats until that's fixed! He lamps a biker for 12 damage pre-soak, and doesn't stun. Gumbo, uh, got a 96 on his Tactics test. Welp. He kills Murdelia's biker, though. Get Them order is still in effect; +4 Damage if your comrade uses Ranged Volley or Close Order Kreb hasn't posted so defaults to aim-full auto. Which he misses at. Tauroses get closer; Scurrilous opens up and would have probably totalled one had the ram not occured. None of the tauroses are pinned. One round until contact; two rounds till they start killing you. Sentinels mince closer. Also one round until contact; three rounds until they start killing you. I changed it up a bit. They're really short ranged, so it makes no sense for them to suddenly spring upon you. You can start killing them earlier. Grumb fires. He gets a hit, but the Tauros gets a jink with a roll of 4. Bikers Leap Up or stand up as appropriate; two shotgunners aren't in melee (Stand/Ready), two swordsmen are in melee with you but haven't attacked (Leap Up free action/Guarded Action/Half Move). the scrunting will continue until morale improves. gosh what could infernus mean. hope you like the enemy getting the sorts of rolls you normally do!! e: also please stop hitting legs? Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 21:57 on Mar 17, 2015 |
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Mar 17, 2015 21:53
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Groin Sklunger Ambush, 2fast2scrunt Sparks fly as the massive truck and the Scruntmera grind against each other sexually as they begin to speed down the southern road. Groin grimaces as he stares down the truck driver out of his side window. At least he would have if Chimera's had side windows, so he just sort of glares at control panel angrily. The control panel doesn't quite understand what it's done wrong. "This poser thinks he ken take me in a race huh?!?!" Groin yells to Jekk. "He gat some skills but this scrub aint poo poo next ta me..." he murmurs. "Time to endddd thizz poo poo... hand me the 'good stuff' partner..." Groin slurs at Jekk. Jekk scrummages (Scrunt Rummage) through Groin's stash and hands him the EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG. "Heist?" Asks Jekk excitability? "Heist!" replies Groin. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1lohNrkipI Without hesitation Groin grabs the EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG and injects it directly into his single remaining organic eye. "Get on mah level scrub... sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeit!!!!" Groin yells as lots of things begin to happen to his body all at once. _________ Groin has injected the EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG and I want to try and push the truck off the road. No idea what action that would be!
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Mar 18, 2015 15:57
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Pernicious Kreb, Bunker Kreb peers through his viewsight, and sees that his shots all failed to connect. He hisses with rage and lowers his gun, and for a moment surveys the scene with unscruntly clarity. He sees the bikers drawing swords, he sees the oncoming mince of the sentinels. He sees the tauroses screeching through a hail of multilaser fire. None of it really bothers Kreb, at least nothing that he sees. But something he hears strikes a chord deep in his brain. The human gunners shouting something into their radio. Something from outside Kreb seems to reach into his brain when he hears it, and for a moment the message turns from CONSUME BIOMASS to advising a more cautious course of action. Kreb turns, and scampers deeper into the bunker.
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Mar 18, 2015 18:48
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Grumb Slanger, atop a precarious precipice Grumb laughs as his continued autocannon fire tears the road to pieces beneath the oncoming tauruses. As he continued to rain terrifying cannonfire down upon them, Grumb's thoughts drifted. What was it the bike mans were talking about? He'd sworn he had heard the word "infernus" before. He racks his brains trying to think of where. Was it a question, or a statement? Maybe another language? And then it comes to him! It was something his mama had said to him once. "Grumb Slanger," his mama had said, hitting him with a big wooden spoon, "You quit stickin' yer little brothers infernus. They all is burning up." Squinting grimly, Grumb strained to picture a furnace impressive enough to house the whole unit of scrunts. These people must have some serious heating needs. Maybe that's where all the gas was going, he mused, lazily throwing shells downrange. ------------------------ aim + semi auto burst with a ranged volley from Barry 300m S/3/– 3d10+8 I Pen 6 Clip 20, 2full reload, reliable BS45 + 0 medium range + 10 Aim + 5 Comrade bonus + 0 Semi Auto Burst = 60. I roll... 09! holy poo poo please do not jink this hit. For 5 successes I can roll damage 3 times if I understand semi auto burst. 3d10+8 [+4 from gumbo's order] is my damage. first hit 7+4+4+8+4 = 27 second hit 9+4+3+8+4 = 28 third hit 7+10+7+8+4 = 36 and as a free action, I would also like to attempt a Lore [War] test [or lore: IG if you think it's more apropos] to see if I can figure out what the gunners are talking about. vs int 26 - 16! edit: forgot the +8, fixed damage and made corrections. ps I am super extra not cheating I just like real dice and phone postin' Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 21:57 on Mar 19, 2015 |
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Mar 19, 2015 21:33
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Common Lore: War is not appropriate, Common Lore: Imperial Guard might be with a -10 penalty, so you've just scraped by. Three hits is correct. Tauroses jink one hit per DoS on their test, but only against one attack action per round (per Tauros), so let's hope someone who's not using puny small arms also fires at them before it's your turn! You need to actually specifically say you're using the Comrade action rather than just assuming it's happening, so please do that in subsequent rounds e.g. "half action aim/semi-auto burst, Barry is using Ranged Volley"
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Mar 19, 2015 21:44
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