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Yurik Scraglagger The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Words rattled around inside Yurik's crudely terraformed brain like loose bearings in an engine that no sane enginseer would declare fit for service. Words like "saturation" and "infernus," words that spoke of grim and terrible purposes. The problem with words, though, is that they had so many different meanings. Like unlabeled Standard Template Construct modular furniture, you could set someone to assembling a bed out of spare parts and wind up with half a toilet mounted awkwardly to a corpse incineration unit. It was entirely possible that the Severans meant something quite specific by the urgent requests they were shouting over the vox, but Yurik, with his keen scrunty insights, knew someone requesting an immediate dispensation of boiling-hot urine over the area when he heard it. Truly the depravity of these humies knew no bounds. None of this seemed to spur him to any greater heights of action, however. Instead he continued to peer scrunitly at the figures in the smoke, beady red eyes squinting harshly through the haze. So intent was his scrutiny that his squat, misshapen body practically seemed to be vibrating with the effort, a dollop of drool escaping between clenched teeth. What arcane thoughts were percolating through his head as he fixed the full force of his attention upon the squawking Severan troopers lurking in the smoke ahead? None could say, and frankly they were probably better off not knowing. Merry scruntmas, I have pneumonia. Yurik is having a stroke or something, idk. Bleurgh.
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Mar 20, 2015 05:18
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Grimply, on top of the crags With a blinding flash, Grimply's lasbolt rips through the smoke cloud and strikes a humie that's also on fire. His leg gets blown off clean, and he tumbles to the ground, still burning. "Fackin beautiful. 'e's ripe for dinna", Grimply thinks to himself. The smoke still makes it hard to see what's actually going on, but it seems like the other scrunts are charging into the fray so Grimply lowers his scope and takes a look around. Below him, he sees the fuel truck crashing through the trees back onto the street, and then the scruntmera slams into its side with a mighty engine roar. "Thas tha way Groin!" Grimply shouts excitedly. "Slam tha 'umies!" He raises his scope again, and centers it on the truck because he wants to see all the slamming that's going on. The humie driver is right in his view, and Grimply watches how he grips the steering wheel with an expression of fear. Grimply is so excited about the scared humie and the slamming, that his finger slips and he accidentally shoots at the truck driver! ---------------------------------------------- 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 shoot the truck driver 95 vs 85 (45 +10 +10 +10 +10 +10 +10 -20) oh my god who knew that I could actually miss shots "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 40(28 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 22:52 on Mar 22, 2015 |
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Mar 22, 2015 22:49
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Murdelia Skurvy Scrunting in bunker A pack of scrunts swarm over the humans in the red smoke cloud, and Murdelia shifts her sights along the road to the approaching Tauros. Hitting a speeding armoured car is a lot easier than hitting an indistinct humanoid silhouette locked in hand-to-hand combat with an ally, after all. She debates mentally between trying to make one good shot or spraying a few downrange. She decides to spray. Arnika helpfully points out which one is closer. ______________________________ A burst of fire at the lead Tauros. BS 40 + 10 Aim + 0 Semi-Auto Attack + 20 Enormous + 5 Comrade - 30 Extreme Range - 20 Flat Out = 25 vs 42 to hit? Is 42 my scrunty number?. Skellybones fucked around with this message at 00:59 on Mar 23, 2015 |
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Mar 22, 2015 23:55
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Tauroses are going flat out, which is another -20, and they're Enormous not Massive (+20 rather than +30). This is a thing that your character would be aware of ("it's hard to hit things that are going fast") so I will allow you to do-over if you want. If you are struggling with figuring out appropriate actions, then bear in mind your goal here is not necessarily to scour all life from the face of this section of forest.
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Mar 23, 2015 00:21
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Firing enthusiastically anyway.
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Mar 23, 2015 01:00
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Gumbo Bulge, in the middle of the road? drat this smoke. Cough. Gumbo stumbles aggressively into combat, swinging hard at the first human who appears out of the smoke and taking his leg off at the knee. "Useless uman buggers" he mutters, unimpressed, as the unlucky man collapses, clutching at his leg stump with his crippled arm which is in turn clutched by his functional arm. "YOU SEE THA!" he yells, "NUTHIN TO EM." He hopes the other Scrunts will be inspired by his confident attitude and general rowdiness. As the Bikers line up ahead, Gumbo knows the enemy vehicles will be here soon, and he ought to think about disengaging, but he doesn't think about it very hard because he is a Scrunt. He glances at Pirk, and Urok swinging wildily at some hopeless trooper. "Wiv me, Pirk." He advances on the nearest human, chainsword raised. A Feint against closest enemy, followed by a Standard Attack, with a Close Quarters assist from Pirk. WS 45 + 20 (DBL TEAM/PIRK) +10 (STD ATK) +5 (CHAINSWORD) -10 (SMOKE) = 70 (Not sure what bonuses Feint tests get, if any. Another Get Them! Order FEL 43 + 10 (SKILL) = 53 +10 Parry and Counterattack for the biker attacks
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Mar 23, 2015 20:26
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Fear And Loathing The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Time slows for an instant as Groin jams the syringe of EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG into his eye and depresses the plunger. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sflTSR6kPjg  holy  scruntfather The scrunts start loving up almost immediately, as is their way. Grimply starts things off with a bang, by overloading his rifle to such an extent that the magazine explodes when he pulls the trigger. Hell yeah! It doesn't do the scrunt any harm, but it fouls the internal mechanism of the gun to such a degree that he'll have to clear it out before slamming home a fresh fuel cell. Perhaps a solid projectile weapon would be less prone to malfunction? Murdelia joyfully sprays a barrage of laser shots that have little chance of hitting, and would do nothing to vehicle armour even if they did connect. Careful aim at drivers and gunners is still possible even at such absurd range, but the scrunt wants nothing to do with this. Yurik manages to do nothing except balefully stare at the bikers, hoping for a clear shot. He doesn't get one, and wastes the benefits of his aim! What a fuckup! Gumbo has no time for this "loving up" malarkey, and menaces the nearest biker. The trooper falls for the scrunt's feint and attempts to parry too early. He pays for his mistake by taking a nasty gash to his sword-arm, laying the limb open to the bone. It's not fatal, but it's close; the trooper grimaces and adjusts his grip, clutching his other hand to his wound. The continued success of the sergeant appears to cheer the scrunts; they can barely see what's going on through the smoke but the battle roars of FECKIN and SCRUNT seem to indicate that things are going well. Scurrilous is still recovering from being bounced around inside the turret from Groin's ram attempt, and woozily attempts to bring the weapon on target. Arcs of glistering laser sheen off into the sky as he struggles to get himself "interfaced" with the multilaser once more. Another scrunty fuckup. Speaking of scrunty fuckups, Groin vibrates as the bizarre serum inside the vial goes to work on him. Where the hell did this stuff come from? What is it? What the hell is it doing!? The scrunt's pupil dilates almost immediately to the size of a dinner plate and he is sucked up into the neon sky by a thunderous whirlwind as ancient deities stamp and roar defiance at- get a grip, Groin, get a- The scrunt's tortured mind splits in two, and something ancient, murderous and alien takes control. As the syringe topples end over end slowly, so slowly towards the floor of the APC, he/they finds a strange joy in snatching it, dropping it, snatching it, dropping it, whipping it with deadly precision through the viewslit of the Chimera. Things are moving at a leisurely crawl, but Groin finds their reflexes are just as sharp as ever. With a snarl and a grin, tempered faintly by the realisation that only one of the limbs doing so actually has fingers, they seize the wheel and prepare to ram the truck off the road. Urok bellows and leaps at his assailant, but in the haze he can barely make out who he should be swinging at. The biker doesn't even need to parry as the scrunt violently strikes air, raving and slavering. The Truck driver valiantly attempts to break free, but Groin's alien mindset and terrifyingly altered abilities make it a literal impossibility. Within seconds the driver has been outwitted, outmatched, and outdriven; he slams once more into a tree with just as much alaracity as if it had been deliberate, with the Chimera wedged in just such a way as to make it impossible for the truck to escape without Groin's say-so. The battered driver gibbers faintly. Kreb contents himself with hunkering down in the bunker, hissing faintly, listening to voices in the void. Not really very useful, to be honest. The Tauroses and Sentinels whip ever closer; the Tauroses are now close enough to engage! Grumb seems to take personal offence to the presence of the cars, and guides a barrage of high-velocity shells directly into the engine of the lead Tauros, consuming it in an enormous coruscating fireball as its fuel cells go critical! The other two vehicles skid wildly through the explosion, but remain on course. The fireball jogs Grumb's memory - isn't an "Infernus" just a bigger version of that? Why're the PDF guys calling for a big firebal-ohhhh In the confusion of the smoky melee, one of the shotgun-toting Bikers sights carefully and unloads a precision burst at the battling scrunts. With two targets in such close proximity he is able to divide his fire equally, and skillfully avoids shooting his comrades. The fusillade hits home with devastating force, staggering the two melee scrunts momentarily. The second shotgunner sights equally carefully, before unloading his weapon directly into the chest of his comrade. The unfortunate biker absorbs most of the force on his armour but significant damage is still done. His assailant blinks, fuzzily. The falchioneers hack gamely away at the scrunts, but make little headway, what with the shot whistling around their ears and the various other distracting factors. Gumbo catches his attacker's weapon on his chainsword, but is unable to mount a successful counter, settling for a brief headbutt to the gut before breaking away.  scrunnnnnnt ----- lol @ events Grimply jams his rifle, losing the mag and needing to clear the jam and reload before he can use it again. No reason why your comrade can't do this. Murdelia misses Yurik spends a round woolgathering Gumbo successfully feints, slashes the poo poo out of his biker. He's nearly dead. Get Them! order is successful again, giving +4 damage to people whose comrades use Close Order or Ranged Volley Urok does aim-attack and misses with a roll of 85 and 65. Gosh if only there was a comrade to give Double Team bonuses. Scurrilous misses. Groin sucks down EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG!!! It's time to roll randomly! ok so it's got three immediate effects, and this syringe is DARK ELDAR FOCUSED. Firstly, next round and maybe longer, Groin gets up to four half-actions instead of two. Common sense with this please - you haven't given the drug to the chimera so you can't do four move actions. Secondly, until this wears off Groin gets Unnatural Agility (4). I don't think you appreciate quite how fast this makes him. Thirdly, Groin cannot understand anyone except Dark Eldar until this wears off. Truck is pinned. Kreb takes cover. I will be nice and say you didn't actually run anywhere, so you can still aim and fire next round if you want, no movement to get back to your firing position. Tauroses are on-map and will soon start to violently assault you! Remember, -20 for full speed, +20 for size; depending on actions, that -20 might go. Sentinels are nearly on-map! Grumb actually gets a better roll than expected because the Tauroses are now that much closer. So he fucks one up comprehensively. Two Tauroses left. Grumb has figured out that Infernus is a protocol used for firestorm bombardments Bikers get a little wild. The first one gets four hits due to Scatter and Semi-Auto, two of which are righteous fury. Except he doesn't righteous fury, due to being a mook. Fourteen wounds each to Gumbo's leg and Urok's arm, which you will reduce by toughness and armour. The second one nearly kills his buddy, by shooting him, with a gun. The falchioneers fail to do anything useful. Truck is immobile and cannot move until the Chimera does. Go get it, filth. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 22:38 on Mar 24, 2015 |
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Mar 24, 2015 22:32
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Groin Sklunger The Crossroads, 2scrunt2care https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VkVsuO2Ichk  Groin was very satisfied with the sick Xtreme manoeuvre that had lead the enemy truck into the tree. In fact Groin is feeling VERY satisfied with a lot of things right now. His robot limbs feel satisfying, the seat he's sitting on feels satisfying. The Scruntmera interior looks satisfying. His face feels satisfying. For a few seconds that felt like decades, Groin sat down and admired life while a waterfall of drool showered out of his open grinning mouth. "Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiife issssssssssss goooooooooooood......" he reflected to Jekk, who could not understand his sudden alien dialect. But then he noticed something in the distance out of the viewport that was NOT satisfying. It was two Tauroses speeding toward him, and they looked very sad not to be a part of the party.  "Weeeeee waaaaant tooooo cooooome tooooo theeee paaaaartyyyy Groiiiiin" said the Tauros in eerie unison. "Tauuuuuuuuuuuuurosssssssssss waaaaaaant to commmmmmmmmme to thheeeeeeeee paaaaaaartyyyy tooooooooo?!?!?!?" he yelled desperately!  "Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" they wailed happily. With a massive stupid grin on his face, Groin deftly unlocked the side door to the cockpit with supernatural ease and dashed out into the road directly toward the Tauroses, combat shotgun in hand. "Leeeeeeeeeeeeets plaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" he smiled ecstatically as Jekk worriedly hurried after him. __________________ Half action to open the side door, half action to move toward the closest Tauros and attempt to board it, free action to ready Combat Shotgun from Quick Draw, full action to Called Shot the closest Tauros Gunner. Not sure if I can give Jekk orders as I'm currently speaking gibberish. Moola fucked around with this message at 00:14 on Mar 26, 2015 |
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Mar 25, 2015 20:33
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Gumbo Bulge, big smoke "Ah gently caress!" shouts Gumbo, clutching at his leg, immediately grateful for his (now battered) armour. There are too many of these humans here, and more are coming. Outnumbered and wounded, it's definitely time to disengage. The humans though, they're mostly still standing. He thumbs the tox injector on his chainsword and a pleasant stench fills the air as a delicious looking liquid leaks onto the teeth. Intrigued, Pirk reaches out to touch it. Gumbo laughs and revs his weapon, he grabs Pirk's retreating wrist, bringing the whirring teeth of the chainsword an inch from his face. JAB THE SYRINGE IN ME LEG BOY he screams, and Pirks nimble fingers navigate the injector from his belt to his arm. "AV THIS YOU FUCKERS" he screams repetitively. He catches the spent syringe and tosses it at the nearest human, then lunges forward as his vision grows hazy. Before the syringe strikes him in the forehead the human trooper reads the words EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG Tox injector! Experimental Combat Drug! Pirk is helping! Another Feint + Standard Attack on the nearest human, although if it's possible to attack the guy that just shot Gumbo he would probably do that. Another Get Them! Order FEL 43 + 10 (SKILL) = 53 and a Close Quarters Order for Pirk 45 (WS) +5 (Chainsword) +10 (Std) +20 (Pirk) - 10 (Smoke) + ??????? +10 Parry and Counterattack for biker attacks Phoon fucked around with this message at 20:48 on Mar 27, 2015 |
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Mar 27, 2015 19:17
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Pernicious Kreb, Hiding in a Corner Kreb crouches there with his hands clamped over his ears, still awaiting the horrifying rain of fire that the voices told him would soon rain down upon his small, disgusting body. Pelt pokes at him, asking him what's wrong, but Kreb just ignores him.
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Mar 27, 2015 20:28
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Murdelia Skurvy Scrunting ineffectually in bunker https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0_3sdIEhkNA Tauros approaching from one way. Sentinels from another. Bikers still in hand-to-scrunt combat. An unknown thingie broadcast over the radio. Kreb lurked somewhere in the darkness, being cowardly and useless. Things were not nearly as easy and fun as Murdelia had expected. This required hard, decisive, poorly-thought-out action. Her eyes track back and forth between the approaching Tauros and Arnika. "Arnika" she whispers hoarsely, "Use th' thing. Th' one we lifted from Ol' Scrumpy." Arnika's eyes widen and she successfully pulls out the correct thing from an obscure pouch-like object attached to Murdelia's combat harness. It was supposed to be used for either a post-victory party or some vaguely-defined 'experiment', but there was the notion that it would also be beneficial in combat. As master of chemicals and bodily trauma, Murdelia was almost certain it was not just a mercy-kill euthanasia shot, but some rare and powerful superdrug. The trainee medic-scruntling's hands shake as she tears off the sterile wrapper, uncaps the syringe, and jams it into Murdelia's neck just as she tries to take a more careful shot at a Tauros, which causes her to skew to the side and shoot blindly into the smoky melee combat. ______________________________ Arnika takes up the EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG and injects it into Murdelia as she fires at a Roll 85. BS 40 + 10 Aim + 10 Standard Attack + 10 Short Range - 20 Close Combat Target - 20 Smoke = 30 vs 85 to hit? Skellybones fucked around with this message at 01:05 on Mar 28, 2015 |
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Mar 28, 2015 00:23
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Grumb Slanger, atop a precarious precipice Grumb perks up immediately when he hears the telltale PTANG-KWOMMPH of a cannon shell finding purchase in the belly of a light vehicle. He cackles with glee as he fires more and more into the buggy, shredding the Taurus to pieces with his explosive onslaught. As the Taurus erupts into a fireball, Grumb's strained intellect manages to put two and two together. His eyes widen in dawning realization. "Everyone l'kout!" He bellows over his cannon fire and the intensifying doppling of the oncoming engines. "They's gon' light us up! Bombs from tha sky gon' infernie us! I mean, infern us! Dangol, y'all watch yer asses!" He turns his attention to the second oncoming buggy, eager to shower the road with more scrap metal. As he fires, one eye drifts northward to surveill the approaching sentinels. Can't lose track o' what's important, he reminds himself, mentally preparing for his (hopefully) death-defying leap. ----------------------------- Another semi-auto burst, with fire support from Barry. BS45 +0 medium range (or is it short?) + 10 Aim + 5 Comrade bonus + 0 Burst Fire = 60. I roll a... 8! hot drat! there could not be a better time for this hot streak. 3d10+8[+4] for damage, 3 times. 1+2+10+8+4= 25 4+8+2+8+4= 26 8+7+7+8+4= 34. I fuckin' love this gun. Be sure to let me know as soon as it's feasible for me to goomba stomp a sentinel pilot, as Grumb will drop absolutely everything else for this opportunity. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 19:28 on Mar 29, 2015 |
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Mar 29, 2015 18:55
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Grimply, on top of the crags From his lofty position, Grimply takes a look at the current state of the scrunt ambush. It's a beautiful picture of chaos, mayhem and carnage alright. But it's also at a critical point where the advantage of surprise seems to have been lost. No matter though, this should surely make the father smile upon his scruntlings! And by extension, also on Grimply. Recently, his faith has led him down a rocky path, and he fears that the father may be angry with him. Should he have preached more about the Slam Sector? Or should he have set up a scrunday school to teach the new scruntlings? Maybe he failed to lead the other scrunts on the right path to the Slam? Many things fill Grimply with doubt and worry, and his maltreated mind spontaniously suffers a minor breakdown! He drops his rifle and falls on his knees, hands on his head and mutters incoherently. Several different aspects of his schizophrenic mind fight each other for dominance, and tell him cruel things. That the father has forsaken him, and that the other scrunts only wait to kill him! Especially Grumb who currently seems to be yelling things from the other side of the crags. Mean and hurtful things as the voices assure Grimply. But through the storm of hissing inside his head, Grimply can still hear one familiar voice. Faint at first, but then ever louder as it drowns out the other voices and fills his mind. It's a voice that he hasn't heard that loud and clear recently. It's.....  "Grimply" "Yee..es..yes, me father..." "Grimply. I can see that yer suffer. That yer fear that I have forsaken yer. That yer nay can stand tha test I put on yer." "..Nay..I..me father I..." "Fear not, Grimply. Yer indeed being tested. And yer being tested tha harshest because tha prophet needs ta be tha most worthiest. Tha Slam and I demand it! But fear not, Grimply. Yer hast not failed me yet, but yer hast wavered. Yer on a difficult path, me son. But stray not, for it be tha path to tha Slam!" "Father...I won't...I.." "I know yer won't, Grimply. So fear not." And with a sudden blink, Grimply raises his head and looks at his surroundings as if he sees them for the first time. His rifle on the ground. Flet who looks at him with an open mouth and obvious adoration. The ambush below. The scruntmera as it crashes into the fuel truck before it wedges it into the trees. Groin as he leaps out of the scruntmera and races towards the humie buggies. The bellowing roar of Grumb's autocannon and the reving scream of Gumbo's chainsword.... He slowly gets back on his feet, and turns towards Flet with a grim look of conviction. The little scrunt cowers. "Ma...Mastah?" "Lad..... Git me tha big one." "Yee" Flet hastily scampers over the rocks, and tries to lift the big bag he had to pull up here. He's not very strong, so he eventually just settles on dragging it over to Grimply. "'ere...'ere mastah." Grimply gently removes the sack around his brand new Longshot rifle, and groans quietly as he moves it into place. "Lad?" "Yee..uh...yes mastah?" "Put yer shiny glass on tha 'umie buggies and tell me what yer see." "Yes mastah!" ---------------------------------------------- I order Flet to full turn aim at the Taurus that's the farthest away from me. Nr 3 I think? Then I pull out the Longshot with a half action, and fire my penetrator with the other! 43 vs 95 (45 +20 +10 +10 +10) 20 +3 Impact damage Btw, I think I also should get an insanity point for this post. I kind of wanna go mental at some point, but I don't know if the rules for that are fun. So holla at me GM ------------------------ "Tha big one" Longshot Sniper Rifle (350m / s/-/- / [damage by ammo type] / [pen by ammo type] / clip 1 / rld full / Accurate) Penetrator rounds: 1d10+3 I damage / pen 4 / Proven (4), Razor Sharp (double Pen on 3DoS or more attack) "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 40(JAMMED) / 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 18:56 on Mar 30, 2015 |
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Mar 29, 2015 23:36
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Yurik Scraglagger The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 To all outside observation, if one could draw their attention away from the chaotic, smoke-shrouded skirmish, bionic scrunts racing about with drug-enhanced speed, vehicles being torn apart by autocannon fire, and the many other much more interesting things occurring in a distressingly short amount of time, it would appear that Yurik was doing gently caress-all. But appearances could be deceiving. Not in this case, however. Yurik was indeed accomplishing gently caress-all, doing little more than peering with scrunty intensity at the smoke scrimmage taking place a short distance away, though as one of the bikers turned and unloaded his weapon at his comrade the Loremaster's face twisted into a disturbing grin, chuckling wheezily at the hilarious sight of friendly fire. His faithful assistant Hack looked a bit more concerned at the goings-on, however. Yes, the sight of a humie shooting another humie was amusing, but wasn't there something about an impending rain of fiery...something to be concerned with? And some of those vehicles seemed to be getting closer. Also, weren't they supposed to be stealing a fuel truck? He tugged on Yurik's sleeve, relaying his concerns with a series of pained sounds that resembled an unfortunately ugly woodland creature choking to death on a bone. Yurik's gleeful grin was replaced by a scowl as he yanked his arm back, straightening his robes. "Aye, aye, dinnae worry," he said distractedly, "we're gonna be gone from here long before those humies drop their flamin' loads all over us. Pre-verse bastards," he muttered to himself. "'S gettin' so a scrunt can't hardly steal anything without someone tryin' ta' douse'im in burnin' fluids an' whichnot. Now shut the fack up an' lemme concentrate," he grumbled, planting his thinkin' stick on the ground with what he imagined was a dignified thunk and resumed peering, frowning as he did. I was going to have Yurik do a Loremastery thing to try and divine some tactical wossnames to help bring this fracas to a close quicker but rolling a sweet natural 100 means that I rather definitively fail everything forever. I'm not going to spend my one remaining Fate Point to reroll since I'd rather save it on account of impending gruesome death, sorry for rolling like poo poo everybody.
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Mar 30, 2015 05:50
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i just reread the last round of posts and I want to clarify that Grumb would like to fire on the Tauros that is not currently being assaulted by his teammate groin.
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Mar 30, 2015 21:46
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it's too late for regrets  (no i kinda assumed. groin goes first in any case so it is fair to say you won't be firing wildly at him as he streaks across the road on his arm-leg)
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Mar 30, 2015 21:55
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Naked Scruntch The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 The scrunts all seem to remember their mysterious syringes at once. A good number of them decide to inject the very instant they see Groin dash at a ungodly speeds straight towards the oncoming enemy vehicles. Maybe there's some sort of undiscovered gestalt conciousness behind all this - if so, it is in extremely poor taste. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LtHXDOT_k14 Perhaps a little of this psychic abuse does leak Grimply's way, as he inexplicably begins seeing visions. The visions seem to have the end result of him slamming a huge HI-VAP round straight through the engine block of the right-most Tauros, though, so it can't be all bad. The vehicle is suddenly running on two cylinders instead of six, and lurches horribly as the driver fights to get it back under control. Murdelia fails to connect with her weapons fire, partly because she's struggling with the range, and partly because as soon as Arnika jabs the syringe into her neck, she immediately bursts into coruscating flames. The scrunt's comrade backs away, horrified at what she's done, but Murdelia doesn't really seem to mind. The flames are very real, but neither scrunt nor equipment is actually affected in any negative way. A terrible roaring fills the medic's mind, and her last coherent scrunty thought is that she's reminded of the last time she ate fermented rat. In other words, something's brewing, and it's going to be messy. Yurik glowers uselessly for a while. There is a brief moment of discontinuity, and everyone within sight of the scrunt feels a faint gnawing at their mind as they forget details of the memory of their first kiss. In most cases, that's probably for the best. Gumbo gets in on the druggist action. Again he successfully confuses his opponent with a rousing battlecry, although the biker is admittedly more concerned with keeping their arm from falling off than focusing on the scrunt before him. Gumbo is, however, distracted from connecting with a deathblow by the ever-helpful Pirk choosing this moment to jam a long syringe into the sergeant's thigh. In fairness to Pirk, the effects are quite dramatic - a shimmering cloud immediately flurries out from the nearby rockslide and coalesces around Gumbo, thickening and contracting around his form in a matter of seconds until the scrunt is coated from head to toe in a gleaming ferric sheath. He panics briefly as his airways flood with silver flakes, but the feeling swiftly dies away with his conscious scrunty thoughts as an awakening evil stares out from his tiny, beady eyes. Let's hope it realises its body needs to breathe. Scurrilous turns the Chimera multilaser to bear on one of the Tauroses. He blazes away, and it is only the driver's luck that makes him miss by inches. Groin streaks across the road like greased lightning. Greasy, greased lighting. With negligent ease he sprints across the tarmac, hand over foot, and swings himself up onto the right-most, ailing Tauros like a remarkably graceful ape. He judges the interchange of speed expertly, and whips round the grenade launcher turret a few times to dispose of unwanted momentum, with no damage to himself. The driver is still struggling to control the vehicle; the gunner is suddenly confronted with a grinning scrunt at extremely close range, and starts back violently.  Urok appears to have his mind elsewhere. He aimlessly swings at his assailant, again forgetting to activate the chainblades built into his gloves. The biker fails to parry, and takes two solid thwacks to the chest. He's still standing, though, and appears to have avoided the worst of the shock blast. The truck driver busies himself with drawing a sidearm, and with his other arm, begins holding the driver's side door shut. It looks like he's shouting stuff in his cab, but no-one close enough is being quiet enough to hear what. Kreb hisses and shies back from Murdelia's sudden phosphorescence. He's not harmed by the flames at the moment, but if they both stay huddled together in this section of the bunker then he might be getting a bit blistered soon. The Tauroses skid into the fray! Well, one of them does. The other swerves wildly off the road as Groin hangs on with flippant poise. The gunner lunges at him with a wrench, but hits only air. The sole remaining operational Tauros lunges forward. Its view of the melee is blocked by the giant fuel tanker, so it does the obvious thing and launches a pair of grenades in the general direction of Grumb, seeking to remove the largest gun from combat. With an amusing floomp, floomp, two grenade shells hurtle their way up the crag. One sails over the gunner's head and off into the forest, but the other shatters on the rockface near his ledge, covering him in burning promethium! Grumb is no stranger to being set on fire, though, and, thinking quickly, brushes the flaming promethium off on Barry. Small rocks and dust tumble past Grumb's feet. The Sentinels mince into play. Given what they're faced with, they begin to wish they hadn't. Grumb winces at his scorched flesh, but vengeance is at hand. Glowering, he braces his weapon against the convenient boulder before him, and just completely fucks his assailant up. Like, it's not even funny. The flaming wreckage still has momentum, and it bounces along before smashing into the front of the fuel truck, much to the absolute horror of everyone in their right mind. The Bikers have just seen a small, offensive scrunt turn into a small, offensive scrunt statue. Gumbo's assailant is confused, but not half so confused to find his falchion swipe slammed aside by a revving chainsword and to have his left leg removed at the hip with a lightning-fast backhand. In his last seconds, the biker stares up into his own reflection, just under Gumbo's belt buckle, as he bleeds out. In abject panic, the shotgunners unload on Gumbo at point blank range; shot after shot slams into the scrunt, and he barely even notices. Urok's biker swings high; the brawler barely even has to duck. There's no joy in this combat for him.  -------- scrunnnnt Grimply leaves the Tauros with 5 structural points left. A Good Hit. It also failed its jink massively with a roll of 96 and is now Out of Control Murdelia misses, and bursts into flames. Until this stops, all melee attacks gain +d10 Energy damage with the Flame quality, and at the end of each of her turns, all entities sharing a square with her will take 2d10 Energy damage with the Blast and Flame qualities. She also has an extra 16AP against weapons that do damage through direct application of flame. Finally, she can only communicate with ancient unnamed evils until this wears off, and there will be other side effects. Yurik fails to remember things so hard that everyone in sight forgets things. Truly, a scrunt loremaster. If your scrunt doesn't have a first kiss, s/he forgets something else. Gumbo feints, but fails to kill. He also becomes a T-1000, and gains an extra 8AP to all body parts in the form of cover until this wears off. He also counts as Crippled (only a half action a turn, 2 wounds to take the other half-action) until he can pass a free-action +0 Toughness test to clear his airways. He's coated in about an inch of ferric metal from the rockslide. Finally, he can only communicate with Necron Crypteks until this wears off. Scurrilous basically uses up the other Tauros' Jink action for the turn. Groin mounts the Tauros. Not like he'd normally mount the Tauros. He has three half-actions next turn. Urok doesn't post again, and does like 8 damage to the biker he's fighting. Dude's still kicking, though. Truck driver does what he says on the tin. What's he shouting? Is it racist abuse? It's shocking, frankly. Kreb does nothing. You're not actually in the same square as Murdelia so won't get burnt. Tauroses do stuff. The out of control, nearly-wrecked one swerves wildly. The gunner tries to hit Groin, who doesn't give a gently caress. The other tauros launches two flame grenades at Grumb; yes, it's been going at high speeds, and yes, it's relatively long range, but the wonderful thing about blast weapons is that you don't need to be very accurate. Grumb takes 10 wounds, from which he should deduct his Toughness Bonus but not AP. He is not on fire (I don't remember your TB but I know you're not wearing carapace, and flame bombs have pen6). Barry is not on fire either unless you really want him to be. This is just narration; you were hit by a stray round, essentially, so I'm not counting your comrades as being hit. Sentinels have arrived on the scene! They react to the scrunts. Grumb fucks a Tauros. Almost literally. It's time for a +10 Critical to both the Motive Systems and to the Hull! There is consequently flaming wreckage next to the fuel truck, but Hull hit first so the truck's not caught in the explosion. It just took a Tauros ram, which did small amounts of damage. The Bikers do very little; Gumbo kills his on the counter-attack, and the shotgunners panicfire into him. His newfound metal skin means hey, no damage.
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Mar 31, 2015 20:45
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Yurik Scraglagger The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Yurik continued to stare. And stare and stare and stare... His expression turned from one of unnervingly intense scrutiny to one of increasing agitation and anger, as though something had happened that wasn't supposed to or hadn't happened that was supposed to or perhaps both. Eventually his frustration reached the point where he threw his thinkin' stick upon the ground and began stomping and swearing up an incoherent storm. As Murdelia spontaneously burst into flame he whirled around with a suspiciously guilty look of surprise upon his face, but relaxed when it appeared that the medically-inclined scrunt was none the worse for wear. Still swearing under his breath he reached down to grab his stick from where he'd thrown it only for Hack to begin choking and gargling up a storm, agitated hurks and horks growing more frantic as the ground begin to shake underfoot. Yurik glanced up only to observe a trio of Sentinel scout walkers approaching the crossroads with a sense of urgency. "Oh for fack's sake!," Yurik shouted. "Can't a scrunt steal some fackin' fuel in peace!? That's it, no more messin' about!" He hocked and spat upon the ground before shoving both his sleeves up, taking a deep breath...and proceeded to stare. And stare. And stare. This stare was different though. Hack watched nervously as Yurik began to vibrate slightly, blue-green sparks popping and fizzling along the exposed wires interlacing the Loremaster's thinkin' cap. The vocally damaged scrunt opened his mouth to say something then thought better of it, instead opting to take cover behind a nearby rock. The air around the clearing began to take on a greasy quality, not unlike an impending thunderstorm though there were no clouds in the sky. Yurik was vibrating so intensely now that he seemed blurry around the edges. Those woodland creatures that hadn't left at the sounds of autocannon fire burst from their hiding places, running or flying from the crossroads as quickly as they could. Yurik slowly raised his arm, pointing with an outstretched finger towards the approaching Sentinels. He opened his mouth to speak... The veil of reality tore asunder with a flatulent sound. Violent arcs of electricity burst from every orifice on Yurik's body, great gouts of multicolored lightning vomiting from his open mouth, weeping from his eyes, sizzling from his nostrils, and emanating from several other places best left unmentioned. The Loremaster levitated several feet off the ground as crackling energy tore through the air, igniting branches and causing hair to stand on end (every kind of hair). Hack shielded his eyes, whimpering as Yurik was briefly engulfed in blinding actinic light, his silhouette barely visible within the otherworldly energy storm. And above the sound of lightning, if one listened closely, they could hear the sound of a resonant and scruntly voice intoning great words of power. "Kill yerselves." *** All right, so for my action I'm going to use one of my psychic powers... Oh sorry, did I not mention I had those? Wildcard, bitches! Yurik's actually a psyker. A psycrunt, if you will. Anyway, I'm going to use one of my psychic powers as a full round action, Dominate. I am also going to be pushing my power, which means I'm using it extra hard at the cost of unspecified Bad poo poo happening. First off, the roll is a Willpower roll (50) plus my thinkin' cap aka my psy focus (+10) plus 5x my psy rating, which I'm pushing to its maximum of 5 (+25) for a final TN of 85, and I get a 48 aka 4 Degrees of Success. I will spend my remaining Fate Point to add a degree of success to that, giving me 5 DoS total. Because I've pushed my psy rating to 5 temporarily I get to affect 3 targets (psy rating/2 rounded up for Dominate). By pushing it I have just enough reach to affect the two leftmost Sentinels (not the far right one) and so for my third target I'll choose the healthiest shotgunner. The simple command I gave them was "Kill yourselves." These three targets get an opposed Willpower roll to resist with a +20 bonus. Unless any of them has a better Willpower Bonus than I do (which I doubt), they need to get 6 DoS or better to resist, otherwise they will presumably blow their heads off, stab themselves, or something equally hilarious. But because I pushed I automatically have to roll on the Psychic Phenomena table with a +10 modifier, and I roll a 43, add +10 to get 53. Here's the result for 53: Actinic Discharge: Static electricity fills the air within 5d10 metres causing hair to stand on end and unprotected electronics to short out, while the psyker is wreathed in eldritch lightning. And I rolled 26 so unprotected electronics within 26 meters short out. I leave it as an exercise to Schlong to decide what counts as "unprotected electronics" here. And that's my turn. Kai Tave fucked around with this message at 11:25 on Apr 1, 2015 |
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Apr 1, 2015 08:13
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Groin Sklunger Chaos Groin desperately tries to keep a hold of reality as the world around him begins to spiral out of control, more than usual. Next to him an incredibly slow man is slowly swinging a wrench around him but whiffing. Groin wonders why he doesn't just swing it faster. In the distance he notices a scrunt-like object levitating off the ground, lightning coruscating off it's body. Groin nods in approval. Groin turns back to the very slow man, stares at him for a split second that feels like a century, and then promptly swings his robotic arm-leg at his face as hard as possible. _________ Half action aim on the gunner followed by an all out attack against his stupid face.
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Apr 3, 2015 22:28
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Murdelia Skurvy Scrunting while on fire Murdelia considers herself quite smart. Definitely smarter than most of, if not all of her 'comrades'. Could any of them make Bathtub Gin without a bathtub?[1] Could they disassemble and reassemble an unwilling scrunt using nothing but common kitchen implements?[2] Could any of them sew as fine a set of jumpsuits as presently worn?[3] For these reasons, and many others, Murdelia considers herself a step above other scrunts. So as a 'trained' 'medic' she was very surprised when a drug injection caused her to burst into flames. She notes with odd calmness that she is not actually being burned by the fire, it's just burning everything around her. Arnika sensibly edges away from her incandescent comrade. Murdelia drops her scrunty lasgun and leaps out of the bunker screaming an ancient warcry, "AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! SLAM!" while tumbling through the underbrush and setting the landscape on fire. Beyond the typical scrunty inclination to set things on fire, there is an encouraging voice in the back of her mind saying YES BURN IT ALL which lets her know that she's on the right track. A squadron of Sentinels emerge from the indistinct road to the north, neatly coinciding with her desire to DESTROY AND BURN AND RUIN. She beelines for the one at the end of the line, waving her scrunty saw and a flaming branch which she picked up from somewhere. ______________________________ Murdelia runs for the rightmost Sentinel, and if possible tries to climb/grapple onto the leg, or something else suitably aggressive. [1]Scrunts do not have bathtubs, in any case. [2]The scrunt is not alive at the end. [3]No.
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Apr 4, 2015 05:13
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Grimply, still craggin Grimply stumbles back to his feet, after the recoil of tha big one kicked him back. Ay, surely this is a tool worthy of spreading the father's wrath! His shoulder might be sprained too, but that is a small price to pay for such power. Though, next time he should probably hold the rifle with boths hands instead of scratching his crotch with one. But the sound of tortured metal and the following explosion tells Grimply that he got something done. "Bloody roight! Thas what I call a gun!" he yells to the sky. "Lad! Git ova to tha sack an' git me anotha round!" Flet hastily scampers over to the equipment sack, while Grimply clacks his heels and throws his head back to look at the sky. He is pretty happy with himself, and the words of the father filled him with new vigor. So he takes the time to recite a quick ave scruntia, while Flet digs through the sack. The big bullets are in the black metal box, right? And they had little markings next to them to show what they are, right? Yes, that's how he remembers it! What is this old boot doing in here? Oh right, he wanted to save it and look for another one to make a good dinner! But the big bullets, right? Where are the big bullets? Not in this dead rat, that's for sure. Oh right! The black metal box! Flet places the plain metal box on a small rock, and beginns to finger around on the fastener. He's pretty clumsy though, and also quite stupid. And the combination of these traits prevents him from understanding that the box would open if he turned the right side up. Grimply on the other hand, just finished his prayer and now walks towards his waiting rifle. At least he tries to, because he can't even get his first foot off the ground and awkwardly flails around to not fall over. "Wat tha shite?! Wha happen to me feet?" He looks at his boots and sees the red glowy light on both of them. Right, his magic boots can walk on metal. But this is just a mountain and there's nothing here besides rocks, right? So why is he stuck? Do his magic boots now also stick to rocks? He bends down to flick the little switches on his boots, and scampers up a smaller boulder. He flicks his magic boots back on, but falls down when he leans over the edge of the boulder. "Shite!" So his magic boots don't stick to rocks, but why did they stick to the ground here? Is there something in the ground here? Some scrap or maybe space treasure? And why is that boy taking so long to fetch a bullet? I swear, sometimes I could...oh right, the weird ground. Grimply bends down and digs up some of the ground around him with his knife. Licking it, which is the usual scrunt investigation method, reveals nothing so Grimply falls back on the only other method he knows. Staring intently at your problem. Back over by the sack, Flet still hasn't opened the box and is now convinced that it is locked. But he has to bring a big bullet to the master! Quick or the master will be angry! Flet has to make a snap decision, and as scrunts are wont to do, grabs a stone and smashes what is troubling him. The box pops open, and the bullets inside spill out and scatter over the ground. Oh no! The big bullets! They're all on the ground! They're getting dirty and they all look alike! Wasn't there supposed to be markings? Yes, he has to get a red one! But there is no red here only a bit of brown but that must be from the ground...Oh no! Flet is in a state of panic. He must serve his master, but everything is wrong and complicated. In another snap decision, he blindly grabs one of the bullets, and runs over to reload the rifle. Upon closer inspection, he sees that the bullet is very dirty and not shiny like it's supposed to be. He can't load the new rifle with a dirty bullet! But he also can't rub it clean with his clothes because they're dirty too and now it looks even worse than before! Flet would need some water or any other liquid but he drank all the water on the climb up here so where could he get....with a crafty look on his face, Flet unzips his pants and hopes that he can load the rifle before his master turns around. ---------------------------------------------- I order Flet to reload my rilfe with a tox round which takes his whole turn. Then I roll a perception check to see if I can find any hints as to why the crags are weird, or maybe a trace of space treasure. Whatever works, GM  22 vs 53 PER Also since Grimply has never been kissed he forgets that his other rifle is jammed and needs to clear the jam at the start of the next combat encounter, or when he wants to use it again during this encounter ------------------------ "Tha big one" Longshot Sniper Rifle (350m / s/-/- / [damage by ammo type] / [pen by ammo type] / clip 1 / rld full / Accurate) Toxic round(also covered in scrunt piss): 1d10+1 E damage / pen 2 / Blast (1), Corrosive, Toxic (2), Half range, no Accurate "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 40(JAMMED) / 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 00:36 on Apr 6, 2015 |
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Apr 5, 2015 23:00
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Pernicious Kreb, By the Light of the Scrunt Star The sudden burst of flame shakes Kreb from his apparent stupour. Perhaps he thinks that this flame is the flame the voice had warned him of, and that now the danger is more or less passed. Dragging his rifle behind him, scampering like satan's own ape, he rejoins the fray. He props the rifle on the bunker wall, following the burning form of Murdelia with his eyes, waiting for her to arrive at something he'd like to shoot. It occurs to him at this moment that he has completely forgotten what the hell was going on here in the first place when he got so freaked out. The memory of a scrunt is not long to begin with, and Kreb hasn't exactly been kind to his brain over the years. The bikers, which he remembers shooting, are still there, at least in part, but there's a loud, mechanical stomping coming from his right. Maybe his right. Whichever side of him the bikers aren't on, that's for sure. He turns to look at the source of the noise, and sees the thing he hates most in the world: Anything bigger than Kreb. The three robots walk with a bouncy, almost mocking step, and Kreb will not stand for it. He takes aim at the sentinel closest to the other scrunts, and unleashes a fulisade of size-ist hatred and lasgun fire. Kreb hosed up horribly. BS 50 +10 aim -10 full auto +10 scope = 60. I rolled 79 juggalo baby coffin fucked around with this message at 01:00 on Apr 6, 2015 |
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Apr 6, 2015 00:45
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Grumb Slanger, a craggy outcropping Grumb swears and spits furiously as he unleashes hell upon the Tauros that fired upon him. "Fack! Noobs! Fackin'... Get out, Noobs! GERROUTTA HERE!" He shouts after the tauros as it barrels into the fuel truck and crashes, putting a big dent into the fender and cabin. He pumps his fist victoriously. Somehow it just felt better killing something that got a hit in on you. It was satisfying and fulfilling, like that one time he, um... Well, it was him and someone else, and... Well, he couldn't think of it now, but Grumb was pretty sure this feeling reminded him of something! Something good. Grumb looks down to his teammates, eager to see the awe and admiration in their eyes at the sight of his superior marksmanship. His eager face turns crestfallen as he sees the state of the battlefield beneath him. His comrades weren't at all focused on his gunplay! They were all busy running around wreathed in strange elements, floating and babbling incoherenty! Grumb's heart sank. Could it be?? Impossible! Had they really all gone and... dosed without him!?? Why didn't anybody say anything!? Grumb looks up at his cousin Barry, eying the backpack that held his dose of EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG. Grumb was no stranger to experimental drug trials, and if there was one thing he knew it was that he would need to get on their level soon, or else he'd miss all the groping and speaking tongues that was sure to follow! "Barry!" he called out. "Y... Yes Grumb!", Barry called back hesitantly. "Pass me mah 'sperimental combat drugs! An' Hurry!" "Eh, no can do Grumb!" ". . . what?" "S'lunchtime, Grumb! I'm goin' on break!" Barry calls back, pointing to his wristwatch. Sure enough, code:"Oh. Uh, Okay, be back by one then!" Grumb yells back. As his cousin trundles off to find and catch some more delicious lizards, Grumb turns his attention to the incoming walkyboxes. The wait was excruciating - they were almost close enough to jump on, but not quite. He needed their attention, before any of these babbling, glowing assholes got their hands on them! Creeping along the rubbly crags, he tries to edge as close as he can to the sentinels. "HAY WALKY BOX!" he calls out as loud as he possibly could. While he couldn't be sure, Grumb could swear he saw one of the pilots turn his head to look right at him. "LLLLLOOOOKIT MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeee!" Grumb bellows, firing wildly. ----------------------------- Move action along the cliffside to get as close as I can. Attack action, without Barry's help M34 Autocannon - Heavy 300m S/3/– 3d10+8 I Pen 6 Clip 20, 2full reload, reliable BS45 + 10 short range + 0 Semi Auto Burst = 55. I roll a... 68. Whiffsville. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 00:23 on Apr 8, 2015 |
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Apr 6, 2015 20:11
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Gumbo Bulge, Gahsiakaudhz Gumbo cuts down another trooper, and stomps his shiny, heavy new feet on the fallen man's chest. Whilst this sadistic impulse is unfamiliar to Gumbo, who considers himself a professional, his head buzzes with a clear purpose: Revenge. Revenge on the humans who had struck him before. They try to strike again, but cannot pierce his iron skin. He laughs, or tries to, and starts coughing - something prods at him and he peers out, his tiny eyes peeping out from behind his iron cheeks. "Tjsisiqlaixnwisiskajajskaa!" says Pirk, who looks frightened and seems very far away. "WHAT?!" he shouts and Pirk recoils further. "WHAT AR YA SAYIN BOY?? SPEAK REGULARLIKE!!" "AKAOASODNDBDHSHSSKAKAK!" screams Pirk, as he scrambles backwards. Gumbo rolls his eyes and turns back to the humans, there's no time for the boy's nonsense right now. He points at the nearest human and screamss "YOU SEE THIS HUMANS?! I'M THE IRON SCRUNT!" The humans seem almost suicidally alarmed at this and Gumbo is pleased. This over the top grandiosity centres the Scrunt somewhat. He decides to focus, to ignore the now angry buzzing and to try to clear his lungs. Then he will indulge the buzzing. I assume no orders since Gumbo can no longer speak proper but imo hes still very inspiring. Attempt to clear lungs: TGH 32. If successful and gumbo gets an extra halfy it just means he has a little more time to compose himself pls consider it a halfy aim before the attack. If not its not too important this turn but he may need to run soon  Standard attack the trooper engaged with Urok for +30 Dbl Team bonus. 45 (WS) +5 (Chainsword) +10 (Std) +30 (Dbl Team) - 10 (Smoke) = 80 +10 Parry and Counterattack for biker attacks
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Apr 7, 2015 22:59
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Trainscrunting The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dnGs_yNjzKk are you getting the drug theme yet Flet awkwardly jams a dripping, reeking round into the longshot rifle while Grimply peers the gently caress out of the crags. His scrunty eyes roam all over the rock, plunging deep into gritty crevices and lingering over jutting outcrops, and his tongue flicks daintily over the pebble in his mouth. Although the scrunt gets a good firm, disturbing picture in his mind, he doesn't understand what he's looking at, because he just lacks context. Grunting, he spits out the pebble and uses his knife to dig out a rock sample from the ground, with some dim, scrunty perception that technoscrunts can do stuff with it. He stamps his feet impatiently, and is faintly surprised by the noise it creates. Murdelia erupts into flame. The blazing figure sprints towards the closest sentinel, burning branch in hand, like the cover of the world's worst heavy metal album. The Sentinel in question nimbly adjusts its posture, and her flaming swipe skitters off the leg armour plating - she may be currently embodying primordial fire, but she's unfortunately embodying it in the form of a scrunt. Keening with an unearthly frustration, Murdelia detonates her outermost skin of flame with a low faatthoooom! The Sentinel pilot screams as his flesh smoulders and eyebrows vanish, but he avoids the worst of the blast and doesn't catch light. However, his Sentinel begins to smoke in places where it shouldn't, and within moments there are flames licking the pilot's compartment, a flaming scrunt wrapped around the walker's left leg. Not to be out-done, Yurik erupts into lightning. As the power of the Warp flows through him, he drains power from all nearby electronic devices, which swirls around dramatically before conducting itself into the rockface, absorbed by who knows what. He glowers ferociously at what he imagines to be the shocked faces on the sentinel pilots, but it's a bit tricky to make out among all the pyrotechnics going on. Still, he feels their minds as ripe fruit in his mind's landscape, and mentally reaches out, to crush. Gumbo's scrunty body is weak! Weak! But the steel is strong! He still can't breathe, as iron coats the inside of his lungs and quests ever inwards, but he continues his limb-chopping onslaught and does some serious damage to the meat of the falchioneer's shoulder. In itself, it's probably not enough to incapacitate, but he realises he forgot to take his finger off the tox injector's switch to actually initiate the poisoning procedure. The deadly neurotoxin coating his blade does for the stricken biker, who topples over, gnashing and bleeding. Scurrilous mutters and snarls to himself as he squeezes the multilaser triggers to no avail! He's heard Grumb bellowing about artillery, and swiftly weighs up the cost/benefit of staying in one place inside a safe tank, or getting out there to fix it up. With a theatrical sigh and a lascivious grin, he bundles out of the turret, slides down the front of the tank, and pops the maintenance hatch using his Secret Scrunt Technique that only works on this Chimera and not any other. His utility mechandrite throbs, ominously, and begins emitting an obscene bassline. Groin executes a neat backwards cartwheel, ending in jabbing his arm-leg up and under the jaw of the unfortunate gunner, punch-kicking him in the throat. The gunner unwisely clutches at his windpipe with both hands, losing his grip on the careening vehicle and plummeting off the side! He rolls awkwardly a few times before crashing to a halt, snapping his knee backwards and passing out from the pain. Urok finds his opponent deceased, and lumbers over to the wounded shotgunner, putting him down with a couple of backhand swipes. The scrunt doesn't understand why he's not enjoying this, and the beginnings of a suicidal depression begin to take hold. The truck driver appears frustrated with the response he's getting from the radio. Frantic, he spies Grimply tasting rocks up on the ridge, and blazes away at him with his laspistol. Fear lends him accuracy, and it's only the scrunt's diminutive stature and camocloak that prevent the sniper from nursing a couple of fresh burns. As it is, the red-hot blast marks in the rock remain for a fair while longer than the sniper believes is normally the case. Kreb is distracted by the explosion of Murdelia, sending a hail of crackling lasfire way over the cockpits of the encroaching walkers. His lasbolts curve slightly as they sail off past the actinic storm caused by Yurik. In any case, it's a fair bet that the armour of the sentinels would defeat his lasblaster; he'd either have to specifically aim at the pilots, or deploy his combi-plasma weapon, if he wanted to do much damage. The sole remaining Tauros driver is trapped on a speeding vehicle with a manic, drugged-up scrunt, and he can't make the steering respond. It is safe to say he's had better days. He at least keeps the vehicle on the straight and narrow, although it's dangerously close to veering into the Chimera's side armour. The Groin/Xenos entity registers the faint chance that even its magnificent agility may not necessarily be proof from being flung from a t-bone crash. Perhaps it's time to get things under control. The Sentinel pilots are already distraught at the sight of scrunts in full war panoply, and it does not take much prompting from Yurik to make them react the same way many people throughout the ages have reacted to scrunts. Namely, most of them try to kill themselves. Strapped into the cockpit as they are, they are unable to unload into the sentinel fuel tanks, or to overload their heavy flamers - the leftmost pilot does his best at slicing his jugular with his combat knife, while the middle pilot seeks death by cleansing flame. At the last second, he jinks the sentinel into Murdelia's fireball, shrieking as his uniform, and his sentinel, catch light. The rightmost pilot cannot bring his chainblade to bear on Murdelia, but succeeds in scraping the scrunt off his leg, with a motion not unlike cleaning dogshit off a shoe. The scrunt is unharmed, but prone! Grumb fires aimlessly into the air, distracted by his comrade's unexpected lunchbreak, and by the sight of the remaining shotgunner calmly placing his gun under his own chin and holding down the trigger. The bikers are dealt with; now for the prize!  ---- scrrrunnnnnt Grimply groks rocks. He doesn't have any relevant skills to make use of his perceptions, though. He has determined that the rock formation looks natural (i.e. not built traditionally), very unlikely to be hollow, and rocky. It's also surprisingly acoustic. Take your perceptions and rock sample to a sciencescrunt. Murdelia whiffs on her charge (it'd be an improvised attack anyway, you're still holding the gun), but detonates to cause 10 damage pre-toughness. The Sentinel is on fire; the pilot is not. Murdelia is clinging onto a leg. Yurik gets his psyker on. As mentioned in the OOC thread - Chimera battery is dead. Truck battery is dead. All electrical devices within Electrical Dead Zone are dead (no battery). Grumb's gravchute IS NOT DEAD. Scurrilous's internal power reservoir IS NOT DEAD Gumbo slashes; he still can't breathe. It's now a +10 T test to get your actions back; next round +20, +30, etc. Each failure after round three means you start accumulating Fatigue. Also I forgot to use the tox injector on your last attack so it happened on this one instead. Groin legpunches the gunner off the moving Tauros (failed Ag test to stay on). This, plus the fall damage, ends him. Urok doesn't post again! Groundwork is laid for killing off his character if nothing is heard in the OOC thread! He kills a wounded shotgunner! Truckmans shoots at Grimply! He scores a really good hi oh no he doesn't Grimply's very small and smells of prawns. Camouflaged prawns. The slow-cooling blastmarks might be gun, or they might be rock. You just don't know. Tauros goes forward a bit. Sorta fails to get his car back under control, but look! A working engine! Sentinels are not, in fact, always ready. Leftmost sentinel pilot took a bunch of wounds and is suffering Blood Loss, i.e a 10% chance to die each round. Middle and Right sentinels are on fire. Middle pilot is on fire, too. Right sentinel should, really, have gutted Murdelia with a chainblade - however, there was no point in her doing a standard charge as she couldn't scratch the armour, only the pilot. So, her charge became a grappling charge - unfortunately, the sentinel pilot piloted his way out of it! Murdelia is prone. Grumb misses, biker kills self. No more bikers! Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 21:22 on Apr 8, 2015 |
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Apr 8, 2015 21:19
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Groin Sklunger Whoa man.... Groin grins at the Gunner's body as it ungracefully flops around like a ragdoll behind him, who he recently sent flying with a flunt-kick. (scrunt flash kick)  Groin's grin begins to slowly fade as his drug high starts to end. He quickly wonders how he is going to escape the vehicle which appears to be on a collision course with the Scruntmera. The driver turns around at the scrunt and for a moment they lock eyes. Groin's grin reappears and a single tear begins to roll down the driver's cheek. "SLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM SECTOOOOOOOOOR!" ___________________ I want Groin to leap at the driver, wrastle him, and try and steer the car away from the Chimera.
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Apr 12, 2015 23:13
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Murdelia Skurvy Scrunting while on fire Murdelia has even less of an idea of what's happening that usual. Was fire still a thing? Was this real life? Explosions? Blinded by her own scrunty miasma of combat rage and oily smoke, she barely spots the immense Sentinel looming over her as it staggers around like an open-topped walker which had been set on fire. It was like a huge, glorious metaphor for her life. Obviously, the good stuff is at the top. Letting fly an ember-filled warcry she manages to right herself and leap at the nearest stomping leg. ________________ Murdelia leaps to her feet and once more attempts to grapple/climb the flaming Sentinel.
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Apr 13, 2015 13:51
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Gumbo Bulge, likely artillery target Gumbo feels great satisfaction as the last human interloper collapses - that will teach them! For what, he isn't sure, and what is an interloper anyway? He shakes his iron encrusted head/body and the buzzing in his head recedes a little. He looks about for a new enemy, but its hard to see through the holes in his new exoscruntington and its still pretty smokey around. It doesn't seem like anything is moving nearby except for Urok and Pirk, who are engaged in jumping up and down on a mortally wounded human trooper. Gumbo thinks hard. If the enemy have been eliminated, then surely he ought to be securing the objective. But what was the objective? He remembers something large hurtling by and a series of loud crashes. Truck! He knows roughly where it is, and another brainwave strikes him as he remembers the humans speeding in on their bikes. He waddles over to the nearest and hits the starter. It doesn't start and the buzz returns, angrier than ever. Useless! Modern technology never works when you need it, and he can never figure out how to set the clock. He will have to stomp over there himself, if he can catch his breath. He tries again to clear his throat. I assume the bikes aren't working what with them being in the middle of the electrical disruption (if they are somehow working I want one!!) so Gumbo will make the longest move possible (length depending on the outcome of the toughness roll) towards the truck, ending in cover if possible. AGI bonus is 3 TGH 32
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Apr 13, 2015 17:12
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Grimply, cragalicious Grimply ponders the rocky taste in his mouth, but can't figure out why it's weird to him. He tasted rocks before, but this one is definitely weird! He decides to pocket a bit of the weird rock to show it to one of the smart brain scrunts later. For now, there are more pressing matters. The fight below him still rages on in full force, and some of the other scrunts seem to have even been blessed by the father! The spirit of the father must have flown through him into the other scrunts, what a glorious day! He waddles over to his rifle, where Flet is standing with a sheepish look. "Is tha rifle ready again, lad?" "Yee-es mastah! Yes! I did it! Very good! Nothing 'appened at all!" Grimply gives Flet a suspicious look, but then thinks nothing of it because it's Flet after all. There is also a weird smell in the air, but Grimply just makes a mental note of it because it's probably from the weird rocks around here. He peers through his scope, and is instinctively drawn to the fiery chaos around the humie walkers. He can see Murdelia, who is currently on holy fire, struggling to get up from the ground while one of the humie walkers tries to stomp her. This can't stand! No blessed child of the father will be harmed under Grimply's eyes! As he tightens his grip around the trigger, he recites a short prayer to the father "O me fatha, relying on Thy almighty powa and infinite mercy and promises, I 'ope ta obtain pardon of me sins, tha 'elp of Thy grace, and Slam Everlasting!" ---------------------------------------------- I order Flet to full turn aim at the sentinel that Murdelia is next to Then I do a called shot on the pilot(or his face, whatever works) with my tox round. I also will take the 6 insanity to make my scrunt piss drenched tox round be better 49 vs 85 (45 +20(aim) +10(single) +10(short)) 7+1 E damage and whatever the GM wants to grant me for my insanity points ------------------------ "Tha big one" Longshot Sniper Rifle (350m / s/-/- / [damage by ammo type] / [pen by ammo type] / clip 1 / rld full / Accurate) Toxic round(also covered in scrunt piss): 1d10+1 E damage / pen 2 / Blast (1), Corrosive, Toxic (2), Half range, no Accurate "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 40(JAMMED) / full round reload / Accurate, Reliable(Unreliable with overload), Felling (1)) GM reminder that I'm very small and have a camo cloak Reminder for me that Grimply forgot about his jammed rifle Tin Tim fucked around with this message at 19:09 on Apr 13, 2015 |
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Apr 13, 2015 18:56
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Grumb Slanger, the edge of his seat As Grumb fires ineffectually into the treeline, his eye is naturally drawn to the sight of his fully immolated teammate charging across the battlefield and wrestling with his primary target. Time almost seems to slow down as Grumb's emotional state cascades from puzzlement to concern to resentment and back again. He swears to himself under his breath as he begins to scrape his feet on the rocks like a hosed-up munchkin rhino, readying himself to finally take the plunge. "Gahd fack bocklin' dick-crud bafflin' crack factory, why's everyone gotta get in tha dangol way when a scrunt's tryin ta get poo poo done, tal'bout always be fackin' up my plans, dangol never let a scrunt jes do he gotta DO! " And with that, Grumb leaps from the craggy outcropping. Majestically he hurtles through the air, eyes aglint with the light of the fiery spectacle before him. The fall would be a long one - but Grumb had no time to think of the consequences. For the first time in years, Grumb's eyes were both looking at the same thing - the prize. ----------------------------- Grumb never got moved on the map during my last turn, so I think he'd probably be a square or two northeast by now. Either way, I've gotta act fast before all the sentinels get hosed up and burned. Making an athletics check to leap as far as I can toward the sentinels. Grumb's plan is obviously to be a total baller and leap right on top of the leftmost sentinel, but that seems like it might be a little unrealistic so failing that I would like to aim for the tree in between Grumb and the sentinels. Athletics is S, so the target is 41. I roll... 59. Wuh oh. I assume more tests may be needed as a result of this first roll, so lmk [or just make them for me]. edit: I will be using the grav chute to land gracefully upon the tree / sentinel / ground yes i certainly will. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 02:27 on Apr 15, 2015 |
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Apr 13, 2015 22:21
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Yurik Scraglagger The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 The light faded. The storm ceased. Yurik Scraglagger slowly floated down to the ground and belched a mouthful of residual sparks before grinning smugly and dusting his hands off as he admired his handiwork, blithely oblivious to the fact that his display of raw psychic might had stalled out their means of escape. "An' that, Hack m'boy, is how you get shite done." Hack could only vomit in agreement. He had felt it when the remaining humie biker had taken his own life, the abrupt sensation of a living mind suddenly snuffed out by a point-blank load of buckshot. That just left the Sentinel pilots, two of whom were currently on fire and one of which was bleeding profusely. All in all he was forced to admit that this ambush had gone splendidly, a fact that he credited largely to his own astounding tactical insights and also his ability to make people kill themselves by thinking at them. Quite a number of scrunts that Yurik wasn't too fond of had suffered strange and unfortunate "accidents" ever since the incident that had crammed his misshapen skull full of forbidden knowledge had also awoken something best left unawoke in his scrunty brain. Even the Warp tended to find scrunts too repulsive to bother with most of the time, but Yurik's mind seethed with arcane energies and just plain seethed in general. By this point things seemed to be fairly well in hand, which meant that it was time for them to start considering their exit before Severan urine began raining down on them by the barrel-load. "Right, now that that's all sorted an' dealt with hurry the fack up and finish these arseholes off so's we can finally get the fack out of here!," he shouted to no one in particular. "We got ourselves a shower of flamin' piss incoming and I make it a point to avoid showers whenever and however possible!" Being a scrunt, this was hardly surprising to hear, but Yurik emphasized his point by pointing his rifle towards the nearest Sentinel in what he believed to be a menacing fashion, the one which wasn't currently on fire, and yanking the trigger. In the best interests of not rolling another hilarious psychic phenomenon result and turning everyone into sausages or something I'm going to lay off the powers for now, which leaves Yurik with not much else to contribute in a combat-y situation so I figured I'd have him take a token potshot or two at one of the Sentinel drivers. Ballistic Skill of 32, +10 for being within half range, then +5 from having my comrade assist me, but -20 for it being a called shot to hit the driver leaves me with an overall TN of just 27. Then I roll a 13 so that actually turns out to be a hit. Murdelia is grappling one Sentinel, Grimply is shooting at another, that leaves (I believe) the non-flaming Sentinel so I'll target the driver of that one (who I think is currently bleeding and near death) and if he doesn't dodge he takes 7 impact damage from Yurik's miraculously accurate bullet.
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Apr 14, 2015 08:25
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Deluge The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nekoB3pAUqk Grimply blasts away, trusting in Flet's expert directions of leffabitrighabitnahFAHR. His reeking round flies straight and true, entering the hapless pilot's skull through the nasal cavity, to his indescribable torment. He thrashes, briefly, and then lies still, horrible toxins pulsing through his veins. Then the round detonates. The human's body is soaked in weaponized acid, along with the interior of the sentinel. The controls fizz and hiss as their components are forcibly given protons they have no interest in possessing, and the walker rocks once, twice, before falling over. Whether the flames or acid claim the pilot's body first is yet to be seen, although given how close the flames are coming to the heavy flamer's promethium tanks the race may soon be over. Murdelia is thus left without a target. Struggling to her feet, she bellows incoherently, cigar long since reduced to ash. She lumbers into the nearest Sentinel's personal space moments before detonating in another pyroclastic display, sheering away the previously-suicidal pilot's face in a furnace-like blast. A grinning skull sits within the blazing walker, which stands mute and inactive. Yurik crackles and sparks from the recent electrical storm. His robe is clinging to him in rather an upsetting way, and to take his mind off this unpleasant sensation he wings off a shot at the remaining unscathed sentinel. It glances off the pilot's head, smashing through the helmet and gouging a horrendous furrow across his scalp. Astoundingly, the driver remains alive, clinging tenaciously to life even as the blood ebbs from his gaping neck wound. Gumbo hacks and coughs, as scrunts often do. Unlike most scrunts, he succeeds in hawking up a huge lump of phlegm and steel, that unfolds on the ground, steaming, like a T-1000's cumrag. Much to the dismay of the sergeant, it opens up two tiny eyes and squawks "DADDY?" at him. Pirk regards it dispassionately, which is strange, as the scrunty part of Gumbo wants to do nothing more than sprint away from it as quickly as possible. He does so. After a brief hectic thrash through the undergrowth, he finds himself outside the door to the truck, being stared at open-mouthed by a bruised and bleeding driver. Escape! Scurrilous frenziedly jams his metal mechandrite into the bowels of the Chimera again and again. Several of the mechanically-inclined scrunts in the limo cheer indiscriminately. By the time he has filled the Chimera's battery with his powerful juice, Scurrilous is spent, and exhausted. His robot companion hands him a lit cigarette. Groin, to the Tauros driver's ineluctable horror, leaps and wraps himself around the stricken man like the world's vilest snake.  His hands rove everywhere, with surgical precision - the Tauros is expertly brought back under control and screeches to a halt, thanks to the scrunt's preternatural and chemically induced agility. Groin's heightened senses are slightly affronted by the man's insistence on screaming so much. Urok is lost to thoughts of depression as he surveys the smoky carnage around him, and does nothing of use. Kreb yees faintly to himself and burrows deeper within cover, still haunted by thoughts of impending firestorm, completely ignoring the reality of current, present firestorm several metres to his right. The Truck Driver is astounded to see a big metal scrunt suddenly slam into his truck door. At this range he can hardly miss, and slams three burning lasbolts straight into Gumbo's face. The scrunt sarge barely noticed, although he does get slight laser burns from taking a shot right between the eyes. The Tauros Driver flexes as hard as he can. Terror lends him strength, and he flings Groin prone onto the bonnet in front of him. Retching, the driver draws a knife. The remaining Sentinel driver knows he is a dead man. The sheer amount of blood running down his neck and pooling in the cabin beneath him is testament to that. Still, he resolves to sell his life dearly and to burn, burn, burn the witch! He stomps, wobbily, away from Murdelia, muzzily reasoning that if she's on fire already someone must have sorted her out. He fixes his sights on Yurik, standing out in the open, and hoses him down with flaming napalm. The scrunt screams as his skin blisters and blackens, but he draws in only flames as he inhales. The pain is intense as he cooks from both inside and out, and He stomps, wobbily, away from Murdelia, muzzily reasoning that if she's on fire already someone must have sorted her out. He fixes his sights on Yurik, standing out in the open, and hoses down a completely separate section of forest with flaming napalm. The witch-scrunt stands, smugly, unhamed. Grumb knows this is his moment to shine. He slaps his gravchute to activate it, hoists Clive over his shoulder, and drives headlong off the cliff.  Grumb is not a wise scrunt. It is only his gravchute that prevents him from becoming a feculent smear on the tarmac, but even still, Grumb resolutely ignored the warning chimes that indicated a failed initiation, and only managed to switch it on halfway through his descent. The scrunt crashes through the canopy of the tree below him before impacting solidly on a sturdy branch. He shakes his head woozily, and may have cracked a rib, but at least he's closer to his goal!  Off in the distance to the west, Grimply hears hollow, cracking booms. Is that artillery? So early? Or are the Leman Russ's firing at extreme range, out of sheer desperation? ------ scrunt Grimply kills pilot. Acid round has Blast; it has completely hosed the controls of this sentinel, and although it's still technically lootable, it's a fast-dissolving shell of a vehicle that is currently on fire. Not exactly primo loot. Murdelia has to get up and then move. She ambles into next sentinel's square and explodes, killing the pilot. This sentinel is also on fire. Again, technically lootable but will take ages to fix up. Yurik gets a lucky shot but, unfortunately, failed to specify a body location on his Called Shot. So I rolled, it hit the head, and the pilot's clinging on by a single wound. Gumbo gives birth to a lovely baby metalscrunt. Or maybe he's just going completely mental. He runs from his responsibilities. Scurrilous charged the Chimera battery but took a level of fatigue. Groin is still on three half-actions a turn. He grapples the driver, succeeds in gaining control of him, and uses this control to operate the vehicle! Urok and Kreb do very little. Truck driver shoots Gumbo at point blank, connecting three times and actually scoring a wound by rolling a 10! Gumbo takes one wound Tauros driver breaks the grapple! Groin is prone, and he now has a knife. The car isn't moving, by the way. Vehicles don't have inertia in 40k. Sentinel flames at Yurik, who psy-dodges through the power of prescience. Grumb sort of hosed up and took some fall damage through making like Randy Savage and snapping into a tree. Nine wounds, minus toughness. He is poised to leap on the sentinel next turn, and can do so as a charge action regardless what direction it takes, unless it double-times it away from him (e.g. if someone frightens the driver). booms happened scrunt SCRUNT also tell me what Scurrilous should do next, if he can't do it himself
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Apr 15, 2015 20:23
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Groin Sklunger Tauros _________ Half action aim on the gunner again, and another all out attack against him. If this knocks him out then another halfy to get in the drivers seat. GM reminder that I am a dirty scrunt. Moola fucked around with this message at 21:08 on Apr 20, 2015 |
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Apr 19, 2015 19:06
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Grumb Slanger, having just severely bruised his coccyx in a large tree Grumb is in an awful lot of pain. For instance, he'd recently been on fire, and just now he leapt a considerable distance onto a gnarled and thorny old tree. A wiser scrunt might have set aside some time to read the lengthy and informative instructional pamplet packaged with all Grav™chute products before relying upon it to save him from certain and absolute death. But what Grumb lacks in forethought he makes up for with his gumption, his raw sticktuitiveness. He scrapes several thorns off of [and further into] his face as he gulps down a mouthful of leaves and cheap, tinny blood. With the sentinel momentarily distracted by Yurik, Grumb seizes his chance and makes a charging jump attack out of the tree branches. ----------------------------- If I read right, a charge attack is a Routine [+20] Weapon Skill test. That gives me a target of 52. I roll a... 48! so now I guess I hit him with my autocannon probably? Or maybe we're grappling. Whatever seems appropriate. Basically I just want to knock him out and/or get him out of the pilot seat however I can. GM reminder that I am very tough and have the True Grit talent
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Apr 19, 2015 23:54
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Grimply, all cragged out Grimply's ears perk up, as he notices some hollow and far off sounding booms. At first he thinks it must be the scruntfather clapping in the Slam above, but then he disregards that thought. The scruntfather claps way louder than that! But it's still suspicous and didn't he see some big humie tanks before the ambush started? If they did the booms then it's probably cannon fire and he doesn't feel good about that sort of stuff with his zero cover up on these crags. "Lad! Yer gonna git tha rifle an follow me on da dangly 'ook. We needs ta git down to tha ground an git some shelta. Tha 'umies could be firin them big guns at us!" "But mastah won't tha father protect us?" Flet asks with hopeful eyes. "Lad, when yer git as old as me, yer gonna learn that tha father can't protect yer from everything!" Flet looks shocked at this revelation. His scratchy lips tremble, and his eyes start to turn watery. It pretty much looks like he's about to cry. Surprisingly enough, this envokes a little pity in Grimply's twisted heart. "Don't yer worry, lad! Tha father will protect us when wes are climbing on tha dangly 'ook. But now yer will git a move on or do yer want ta catch 'umie cannon shots with yer face?!" "Yee?" "Nay! Yer really don't! NOW GIT MOVIN!" ---------------------------------------------- I use my grappling hook to climb down from this totally not well protected spot while Flet follows 10 vs 47+30(hook) lol I climb the gently caress out of this cliff ------------------------ "Tha big one" Longshot Sniper Rifle (350m / s/-/- / [damage by ammo type] / [pen by ammo type] / clip 1 / rld full / Accurate) "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 40(JAMMED) / full round reload / Accurate, Reliable(Unreliable with overload), Felling (1)) GM reminder that I'm very small and have a camo cloak Reminder for me that Grimply forgot about his jammed rifle
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Apr 20, 2015 21:06
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Yurik Scraglagger The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 Yurik was feeling pretty pleased with himself at the moment. First he had demonstrated his overwhelming power of the mind by making those humies (mostly) kill themselves with absolutely no drawbacks or side-effects whatsoever, then he had whipped off an amazing headshot, and for a followup act he got to smugly watch as the remaining Sentinel driver hosed down the area where he had been rather than where he actually was. (The headshot was entirely blind, stupid, scruntly luck, but he wasn't about to tell anyone else that...it could only add to his mystique as far as he was concerned). He smirked smugly and smarmily as the Sentinel driver reeled from both blood loss along with assorted head trauma, but the drawback to presciently avoiding one's own horrible and painful demise, as Yurik had long since learned, was that one still wound up experiencing said demise briefly beforehand, and so while he was feeling pretty good about himself he also had no desire to allow the driver a chance at a second, more accurate shot with that flamer. His beady red eyes hardened into a glare as he reached out with one and in a claw-like gesture before grabbing a handful of invisible threads and twisting them violently. The threads in question belonged to the Sentinel driver's sanity, already teetering precariously on the edge due to the events of the last few minutes, and Yurik's mind waddled right up and sent it screaming overboard. Satisfied that his work was done here, the psycrunt adjusted his thinkin' cap and robes before beckoning to Hack. "C'mon then, let's let those eedjits mop things up...we need to get the fack outta here. If that boomin' in the distance is thunder than I ain't a boner-fied loremaster. Which I am!," he quickly added, jabbing Hack in the solar plexus with his thinkin' stick for emphasis before scuttling off towards the vehicles. "What're you lazy fackers scruntin' about for!?," he shouted to the technoscrunts by the limousine who had, aside from assisting with the ambush at the start of the skirmish, accomplished gently caress-all. "Don't you know there's a war on!?" Psychic power time! Yurik uses Hallucinate against the Sentinel driver at unfettered, TN 70, and gets a 24, hell yes. The Sentinel driver gets to oppose this with a +0 Willpower test same as with Dominate, and if Yurik gets more Degrees of Success (which I'm pretty sure is the case here, 5 DoS, Yurik wins ties) then the Sentinel driver will suffer the effects of a Hallucinogen Grenade for 1 round (half psy rating, which was at 2 when I used this). That's a half action, and for my other half action Yurik is going to start making his way towards the vehicles so he can begin getting the feck out of here. My defensive value for reaction Dodges is 41 due to Prescience should I be attacked. Kai Tave fucked around with this message at 04:03 on Apr 21, 2015 |
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Apr 21, 2015 03:57
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Murdelia Skurvy Scrunting while on fire With the charred wrecks of the Sentinels wobbling unsteadily above her, Murdelia decides that being on fire might not be so great. Screaming incomprehensible alien phrases, she runs in a broad arc and leaps into the bushes on the south side of the road, then rolls around in the shrubbery and tall grass. Arnika continues watching from the bunker with a wide-eyed stare. ________________ Murdelia rolls around in the grass.
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Apr 21, 2015 10:58
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Gumbo Bulge, truck doorway Gumbo reels very slightly as he is struck by the driver - it is very difficult to reel when covered in thick iron skin. Behind him he hears what he thinks is Pirk, but the boy is still screaming nonsense, so he pays little attention. The buzz in his head intensifies again, now accompanied with a building homicidal rage that is part familiar and scrunty (the homicidal part) and part unknowable and alien - Gumbo usually keeps a tight control on his emotions, for a Scrunt at least. The buzz calls for vengeance, it seems angry that this human has dared to pierce his armour. Gumbo awkwardly thumbs the tox injector on his chainsword and hurdles forward, a cannonball of indignation, swerving at the last moment and whipping up his chainsword, the whirring teeth spitting corrosive goop in every direction. Tox injector activated again (that's two uses this combat, I think??), feint and attack on the driver. WS45 + 5 + 10 = 60, willing to spend fate to make this attack because I want this guy dead this turn
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Apr 22, 2015 11:11
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Cacophony The Crossroads Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uFR0xdcWu9Y&t=13s (I was thinking of this instead but there's some guy repeatedly whispering "scrunt" over the top of it and it's really worrying) Grimply descends with alacrity! Mostly because he forgot to unclip the safety ratchet on his abseiling gear until he was halfway down the rock face; his journey down 17 metres of rock ends with an extremely firm jolt to the thighs and crotch as the cable finally catches. He's kinda into it, really, so no harm done. Flet scampers down behind him. Murdelia gets into the spirit of things. In this case, a primordial spirit of fire. She books it away from the flaming Sentinels, but whether this is due to a scruntly comprehension that flaming vehicles tend to explode, or from an unearthly desire to burn and consume, is unknown. Regardless, she sprints into the soggy foliage to the south of the road, and detonates seconds later. The resultant fire is by no means raging, but it seems to have taken hold. Yurik blasts the mind of the unfortunate Sentinel pilot. The human's mind is momentarily scrambled, and his memories reformulate in such a way to make him believe he's surrounded by horrible Xenos monsters who want him dead! Unfortunately for Yurik, this is in fact the case, and the human's behaviour becomes less erratic than the scrunt would otherwise like. Cursing, he scuttles off into the smoke, to avoid a repeat of the "flamer incident". Gumbo wrenches the door open despite the frantic attempts of the driver to hold it shut. The metalloid scrunt bellows what is presumably a warcry, which reaches the ears of the driver sounding something like "K̢͔̭ͅH̷̭YA̛̜̠̮F̢F̧̟̯̘̹͈̺̰O̲͖͇̼͕O̙̬̙̺͓ͅS̳̰̠̥͓̗̪E̢̺̘̭̝̣̘E̝͕̦̜̹̥͝D̴͖͎H̙͈̫͉̼I̖̤̫̠͇͇͡S̘͔̤̳̞̹̱S̱̳͉̠͎ͅͅB̠͎̬̫̱̭O̷̼̝͈ͅY҉͙̣",, lashes out with his chainsword, and drives the point into the luckless human's clavicle. The pain is immense, but he swiftly loses his hold on life as the tox-injector does its work. The driver drenches the windshield with blood as he expires noisily, and Gumbo claims another limb for his tally. Scurrilous totters weakly towards the front of the truck, his thirst for the embrace of the machine not yet quenched. His mechandrite continues to emit music from an unknown source. Groin is on his back in front of an angry man; exactly where he wants to be. Not even bothering to stand up before attacking, he lunges his lower limbs upwards, grabbing the driver by the throat with his leg-arm. He discharges the grappling hook at point blank range through the human's skull, shrieking what is presumably a Xenos curse of "G̫̻͙̞̼EH͙͖̻̫̙͢D̠O͚̭̣̱͍͠V̢̮̖̯̖̜H̟̺̥̠͞A̴̩K͙̜͘J̳͙Ȩ̩̠͍̼̝̻̯E͓̹̙̠͠ͅR̲̣̼͢" before retracting the cable. The driver topples from the vehicle, dead. Urok begins to make his peace with the world as Kreb yees faintly to himself in the bunker. The Sentinel Driver, driven half out of his mind by Yurik's tender ministrations, angles the vehicle downwards and begins sweeping the ground at his feet with long jets of napalm. This has the benefit of enabling Grumb a clearer shot at him, but it does mean the Sentinel is standing in the middle of a firestorm! If it doesn't leave soon, it'll catch light! Thankfully, the driver doesn't have to worry about this anymore. Grumb descends from the tree like a dark, filthy, reeking angel. Or a giant, rabid squirrel. He lazily flips in midair as he approaches. There is a complicated moment, and by the end of it, Grumb is left sitting at the controls of the Sentinel, and a significantly flatter driver is choking to death under an extremely large scrunt. From up on the crag, Barrius and Barry applaud, but Grumb still has to pilot his new acquisition out of the flames!  All of the enemy lie dead and dying, but they've presumably got radio messages off, and Grumb's reasonably sure they're planning on burning this section of forest somehow. The crashing, booming noises from the west are getting a lot closer - they sound kinda familiar, just... bigger. Unfortunately, both of the scrunts that were in a position to actually see what was causing them have since descended the rockface in their own special ways. Maybe it's time to beat a hasty exit, but then there's all this cool stuff lying around... ---- sc. run. t. Grimply zips down like a scrunt poledancer; he is 8m from the ground. Murdelia booms and toasts some squirrels. Flames have occured. Murdelia's powers have lessened, her flames have dampened, and she now has only 12AP against flame weapons. Yurik makes the sentinel pilot hallucinate. He now believes gruesome aliens are surrounding him. Good going, Yurik. Gumbo decided that actually feinting through a closed truck door was somewhat unlikely, and instead succeeded in an opposed strength test to get it open. Driver can't really dodge due to no space. The scruntgeant then proceeded to, once again, nearly sever his opponent's arm. Scurrilous moves Groin forgets that going prone means you have a hefty penalty to melee attacks. However he connects anyway with a Righteous Fury, demonstrating that it is better to be lucky than good. Groin's powers have lessened, he only has two actions per turn now (normal amount). Agility bonus remains. Urok continues on suicide watch; Kreb also has me warming up my PC-killin' stick. The Sentinel, amazingly, rolls the one result on the scatter table that would not immediately result in scrunts being shot; he gets a 7, a.k.a. "shoots wildly at feet". He flames the ground. A small fire takes hold. Grumb hits the third loving Righteous Fury of this round. He is now piloting the sentinel; such overkill deserves results. ALL ENEMIES ARE DEAD. WE ARE STILL IN STRUCTURED, NOT NARRATIVE, TIME. Functionally speaking, I don't want to go through more combat rounds - all this means is you cannot e.g. use Foresight (you don't have ten spare minutes) and you can't do stuff that takes large amounts of time, unless you want to run the risk of being bombarded. This does not mean you cannot e.g. loot vehicles, it just means you cannot do it in a consequence-free environment. Let me know what you want to do and I'll let you know the probable ramifications. Combat drugs will wear off in two minutes. Preemptive lol, for when they do.
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Apr 22, 2015 18:37
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| # ? May 15, 2024 23:53 |
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Pernicious Kreb, stupefied Kreb wakes from his gentle dreaming to see his good friend Grumb piloting something taller than Kreb. Kreb hates things taller than him. Kreb picks up his assorted crap and hauls his tiny rear end over to the sentinel to begin attempting to climb it. I don't know if I have to roll for this
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Apr 25, 2015 02:27
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