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Yo, I don't have to work tomorrow so I've been having drinks and will get even drunker with other folks so here is a quick an dirty scruntto at least do something Grimply, Stalking So after leaving Murdelia, Grimply saw some of the milita scruns getting ready for a patrol. But they did it wrong because they all wear rags with bright colors and poke around in the barrels of their guns or look into them with curiousity. Grimply can't have that and first up tells them to change into less bright rags, stop doing stupid stuf with their guns, and then leads them on a patrol to show them how to be stealthy. Which means to not randomly shoot into the air, scamper all over the place, shout at each other, or sing bawdy songs agbout the Slam. Songs about the Slam are good and proper, but not on the job. Also, I wanna point out that Grimply doesn't fully know about Grumbs antics, because it happened while he left and he just thought the noise is usual scrunt stuff. But after patroling for a bit, he notices stuff going on at the farm, whips out the scruntnoculars and goes "Tha fack is tha blasted Grumb doin on tha roof?!?" before deciding to lead the patrol back asap ---------------------------------------------- So I add a stealth roll to teach the milita scrunts 34 vs 47 Agil And while I'm out I may as well get a short scout of the immedate area with Navigate Surface probably? 84 vs 34 Int I probably forget where I'm even at lol Tin Tim fucked around with this message at 19:27 on Jun 21, 2015 |
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Jun 21, 2015 19:24
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Gumbo Bulge, extended care "Ahve been sat on this ere crate fur hours now an I ain feelin any better! I wunder wot the lads are doin righ now. Prolly scrappin an tearin up the place! Them lads need discipline! An ah cahn' help em from this ere crate." A passing Scrunt, tired of his complaining, jabs him with what passes for Scrunt anaesthetic and Gumbo drifts off into a dream of gunlines and combat drills. Gumbo is on less than half health (5/14). For the first healing roll I rolled 100 vs 72 (I think, doesn't really matter) so Gumbo is going into extended care. If you're planning to run multiple days in the next update for Mung's upgrades and by some miracle Gumbo heals up during those days he would like to train the recruits in formations and effective patrolling using his knowledge of tactics.
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Jun 23, 2015 11:51
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Training Scrontage The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rDBbaGCCIhk a scrunt training montage. christ they look loving weird with necks Arnika douses the remains of the weird chaosy-but-possibly-not-mutated corpse in fuel and sets it alight, smiling broadly. Kreb prowls around outside, yeeing faintly at the waste, as he digs through various garbage piles for snacks. The medical scrunts haven't quite summoned the wherewithal to actually bring the corpse outside to burn it, but the flames die down eventually. The triage centre is smokey and scorched, but honestly, it was hardly in decent nick to begin with. Murdelia's samples are safe, and no major damage has been done. The ash-smeared surfaces eventually draw a crowd of scrunts who aimlessly lap up the carcinogens, which highlights the fact that if Murdelia wants serious results from her research she's going to need proper facilities. Grimply beckons the militia to him, and corrals them out of the farm gates as other scrunts move in to pick at Andrluk's corpse. The sniper still has somewhat of a reputation among the scrunts following his pissventures on the journey back to camp, but they obey his orders with only a modicum of "FECK"ing and "SCRUNT"ing. There are some worried glances exchanged as Grimply continues to lead the militia into the forest, but once Grimply gets across the message that they're planning on killing stuff, they perk right up. Unfortunately, the sniper doesn't feel comfortable herding this gaggle of retards anywhere near roads or open spaces, so his ability to effectively counter-scout and see if there's any Severans about is severely hampered. He finds nothing in the immediate vicinity, but is acutely aware that this doesn't mean there isn't anything to be found. On the plus side, the militia seem to have found a little more espirit de corpse now that the enemy have decidedly not shown themselves, and Grimply's shushed the idiots often enough that they've picked up the vague understanding of what stealth is. The situation with Yurik, Murdelia and Grumb unfolds with a terrible inevitability... ----------  The Farm Malbrathia-3 Gumbo shifts uneasily on his crate, gazing up at the Scruntinel's perch on the farmhouse roof. He's still pretty badly wounded, and Murdelia's patch job hasn't sorted out the creeping malaise he feels inside ever since jabbing that syringe into his nose. Also, he's a bit pissed off with Mung's constant banging and crashing, although he does recognise that more armour on the Scruntmera can only be a good thing. The technoscrunt reckons he'll be finished by lunchtime, leaving most of the rest of the day to work on ablative armour for the Tauros. He can probably leave the installation of the anti-grenade mesh to whichever scrunts stay up late, it's not that complex. Like all good sergeants, he takes out his frustration on his troops. Pirk is despatched to summon them, and they seem willing to play along for now. They quite like being trusted with weapons, and still hopefully await the chance to maybe kill something and steal its trash. Their enthusiasm soon palls once they are herded into one of the concrete sheds and Gumbo reveals his method of demonstrating why they shouldn't clump together in groups - the sergeant spends an invigorating half-hour lobbing flaming tin cans of promethium at them. Hooting and laughing scrunts bar the exit and crowd the rafters as the terrified militia finally get it into their heads that standing in big groups might have a pleasing and comforting smell, but it tends to draw enemy fire. After a while Gumbo lets up, and allows the militia some target practice on those civilian scrunts who were unlucky enough to cackle themselves off the rafters. A good time is had by all. The scrunts rest, and recuperate, and plot, and scrabble, and scrunt. No tell-tale plumes of smoke on the horizon have yet been spotted, nor Severan patrols heard, nor rampaging Ophidius-strain genestealers detected. Once the wounds have healed, it might be time to start thinking about their next move. Long-term planning is still a mystery to most of these creatures, not having had the luxury before now, but scrunts will try anything once. ----------- scrunnnt scrunts won't contract the virus from licking up ash, don't worry about that Grimply trains the militia. They get Stealth as a trained skill, +3 Ag, +3 Per. Scrunts who have consumed a dose of EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG lose another 2 points from two DIFFERENT stats to the ones previously chosen. Grumb doesn't have to take this, as he didn't inject by choice - this is metagamey, it's not some weird "the drug knows if you want to take it!!" thing. Stat penalties from this only go on consumption of another dose; maybe there's other ways out of it, but what do you know, you're scrunts. All wounded scrunts can take one day's Extended Care; no combat today Mung does most the track guards, will finish in 4 hrs leaving 8hrs remaining that day. The ab-armour and mesh will take 9hrs if we include the arm bonus; I will say the technoscrunts can finish off overnight for this. Gumbo trains the militia. This does not count as strenuous, so he can remain in care. This takes pretty much the entire morning, and it's a successful tactics roll! The militia get +3 Ag, +3 BS, and Dodge as a trained skill, because I'm not giving random scrunts Scholastic Lore. Is Murdelia spending time researching that drug? If so, is she grabbing someone elses' dose, her own, or just going with the dregs? She can start from the previous day if research is occuring. Giving you a bit of time to finish up current affairs, gently caress around with box, etc. Maybe you want to get the scruntinel down, or keep a weather eye out for Severans, or do other stuff, idk. I'll give you some time then go onto day 2 next week.
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Jun 23, 2015 23:01
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Yurik Scraglagger The Farm Malbrathia-3 "Er, hmm," Yurik muttered, scratching his thinkin' cap as Grumb, contrary to his expectations, remained upon the roof and seemed, if anything, to be even more agitated than before. "That shoulda worked. Here, hang on, mebbe I just need to roll my R's a bit more. GrrRRrrRRooooooh HEY! WHAT THE FACK!?" To say that Yurik was unaccustomed to a woman's touch was an understatement, which meant that his feelings were rather conflicted as Murdelia hefted him bodily off the ground, holding him aloft like some sort of scraggly offering. "What're you doing!? Don't...no wait! Put me doooWWWWWWWN!" As someone who routinely wrestled injured scrunts onto a surgical table where they could be variously treated, murdered, and/or robbed at her leisure, Murdelia possessed enough strength to easily toss the Loremaster around like a sack of extra-lumpy potatoes. "Oooof! Now you see here NO WAIT DON'T AUUURRGGGHHH!" Very easily. "Leggo of MEEEEEE!" And from there, as Grumb's animalistic attention sauntered vaguely downwards where he spotted Murdelia engaged in the traditional scruntish pastime of Toss the Nerd, things proceeded with a grim inevitability. The Farm Malbrathia-3 The Next Day After a suitable time spent sulking in his part of the manor house, Yurik finally reemerged once again. He pointedly avoided Murdelia as he made his way back to the building where the Sentinel still sat perched atop the roof. In his current state of mind he'd have been content to let the blasted walking scrapheap stay up there and rust, but for the sake of their recently pilfered nuclear warhead he was willing to do almost anything, even lend assistance to Grumb facking Slanger. "You there!," he shouted, clotheslining a nearby scrunt with his thinkin' stick, scuttling over as it lay on the ground. "Round up your mates, aye? We got us a project to do. Today," he said, sweeping his stick towards the roofbound Sentinel, "we're gonna make stairs." Some time later, during a break in the action, he ambled his way over to Groin, intent on putting the paranoid operator's larcenous talents to work unlocking the mystery of the Mystery Box. "Hey, uh, so. This box," Yurik said as nonchalantly as he could manage (which wasn't very). "How 'bout you lend me a hand opening it, aye? 'S probably got some good drugs in it." He waited for Groin's response as the driver unblinkingly stared at him. "Uh, I mean candy?" Still no response. "Candy AND drugs?" *** After Yurik is done being tossed about like a Blood Bowl ball, his first order of business will be wrangle some scrunts into helping get a set of Sentinel-sized stairs put together for someone to walk the thing down from the roof. I don't mean like actually assembling a staircase carpentry-style but, like, stacking crates and pallets and farm junk and the Chimera and whatever else we can haul, drag, heft, and stack. Doesn't have to be pretty or even endure repeated use so long as it works. Ordinarily Yurik would give up one of his doses of EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG for research but, well, he's nursing a grudge against Murdelia for SOME reason. Instead he'll then try and sweet-talk Groin into using a skill, perhaps Security, on the mystery box.
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Jun 24, 2015 01:17
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Grumb Slanger, on the roof Grumb, animalistic instincts in full control, hollers and hoots as he spins the sentinel around and around. The chain blade revs menacingly as gouts of flame issue from the business end of his squig nest. A small crowd has begun to accumulate around the farmhouse beneath him, and even Yurik (the self-proclaimed Lord Master of all scruntdom) delivers a grand speech of complete submission to Grumb's authority. This pleases Grumb. Finally, he thinks, or would be thinking if his mental patterns tended toward the verbal, that little poo poo learned who's tha biggest an strongest round here. Now that the chrome-domed dweeb was in line, no one was left to challenge his dominion! He howls and squeals, squirming around and smearing poo poo all over the newly-installed cinderblock booster seat. Just then, a different-smelling scrunt approaches the dweeb Yurik, and lifts him bodily above her shoulders! It is the scruntess Murdelia! Grumb snorts in amusement, and then the wheels in his head begin to squeak. If this scruntess challenges the Lordmaster, surely she was challenging the veracity of his surrender, as well! By demonstrating her physical domination of this wee scrunt, she was transitively challenging Grumb! He narrows his eyes, huffing and slobbering in indignation. "SQUAAAIL!", he cries, jabbing at the control doohickeys and sending the scruntinel lurching forward. He'd show her who was boss around here! He'd show them a-" The scruntinel's back foot catches on a weathervane, staggering and losing its delicate balance on the rooftop. With a series of sparks and an ominous CREEeEEeEEAAK, the scruntinel topples forward and violently plants its face into the rooftop. Grumb falls forward, face scraping along the shingled incline, until he slides to a stop just inches from the battered gutter. "SQUAAAALE, SQUEEHHhl" he shrieks, shaking his head and dispersing a mess of bloody flecks over the rooftop. "SQWHEEEehhh... "Squehh, squeh... S... ...m... murdie, 'zat you?" He blinks, confused. What was he doing there? Grumb ached all over, and he smelled even worse than usual. And what was he doing on the roo- His train of thought is interrupted by a falling cinderblock bashing him in the back of the head. Everything goes dark. ------------- Grumb wakes back up in the extended care facility, without the faintest idea of what happened. Murdelia has swiped both of his doses of Experimental Combat Drug for extensive testing. The scruntinel is still lodged firmly in the roof. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 22:07 on Jun 24, 2015 |
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Jun 24, 2015 21:50
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Mungly Mung The first morning Mung woke up in what was once the fuel container of the tanker with a startle. He had a vivid dream: quote:From the top of a mountain he could see the countryside for kilometers around. Small villages littered the landscape and even a military outpost could be seen in the distance. From the outer edges the horizon he could see the telltale plumes of smoke and soon fires burned on the horizon. They grew quickly and engulfed all in their way. First the military base, he could hear the pops and bangs from the distance of ammunition, fuel, and tanks cooking off. The fire rapidly approached the villages. He could hear men, women and children screaming as their livelihoods and soon after their very lives were snuffed out by the now raging inferno. The world was a burning hellscape and he alone was the sole survivor. An aircraft flew overhead and dropped an object over the inferno that was once the military base. The world turned a brilliant flash of white as the explosion consumed all that remained, including scrunt mountain. One of the techscrunts peered at mung from the hole into the fuel tank. "S' everything awwright boss? Ya were gigglin' an cheerin and whatnot in here." Mung picked himself up and blinked at the techscrunt in confusion before saying "Nah, jus' the same thing that happens every time I close my eyes. Get me outta here so I can get my day started" After wrenching himself out of the fuel tank, Mungly goes about his daily routine. He makes himself some scrunt coffee by scraping the burnt, leftover remains of last nights dinner off of the pots and pans into a dirty mug, filling it with promethium from one of the fuel troughs, and mixing the two thoroughly . Mung drank his coffee as he walked around to the back side of the building where a couple of tech scrunts had already set up a ladder to get to the scruntinel. He finished the last of his mug with a large swallow and bashes the mug into the roof, alerting the other techscrunts to his presence. He shoves his way into the huddle of scrunts, walks past them and to the passenger compartment of the scruntinel which was laying prone and tangled in what he assumed was the worlds toughest weather vane. He inspects the damage that Grumb did chewing and smashing the controls and figures it really doesn't matter, no point in fixing if if that daft idiot is just going to break it again. Head now buzzing from the breakfast fuel, Mung stands up, unzips his fly and lets loose with a stream of urine into the passenger compartment, only getting some of it on his cloak and pants and most of it in the now vacant scruntinel. His business done, he turns to the other techscrunts. "It'll live, but I don't care to unfuck that guy bein' a crazy idiot. If'n he wants it down he can get it down 'imself. We got poo poo ta do, lads, lets get to it."
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Jun 25, 2015 13:07
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Groin Sklunger The Farm After several hours fruitlessly trying to re-attach his arm, Groin gives up and convinces a wandering technoscrunt to help him. __________ Re-attaching arm before poo poo goes down.
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Jun 27, 2015 15:35
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Pernicious Kreb, The Farm Kreb, suitably fattened on the fruits of his scavenging, and the corpse-fruits of his shooting spree, turns his attention to other matters. He feels something, something in his bones. Like thousands of tiny needles boring into his marrow. A feeling, much like home. He sees the big, conical object that the other scrunts seem to be rather worried by. He knows this is the source of what he feels. To the other scrunts it may be the speartip of terror itself, but to Kreb it is the pointy bosom of the mother he never knew. And he must suckle. Kreb is going to suck on the nuke
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Jun 29, 2015 16:16
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Hive Of Scrunts And Villainy The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjsemNhze7U Kurt Russell is the semiotic signifier for assiduity DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:
Whoever the Quisitor is, he's either lying or an idiot. For the next couple of days, the scrunts busy themselves with construction. Offensive weapons, defensive structures; patching up the body or building palaces of the mind; the scrunts take their leisure amid sporadic bursts of what you could probably call hard work, if you squint. Or scrunt. Two more days pass. Scrunts who have been lucky enough to sample EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG continue to feel a creeping malaise, and continue to crave the needle. Mung remains disappointed in his search for anti-radiation material. None of the scrunts could be bothered to look for useful chemicals, or even to persuade civilian scrunts to do the same, so he'll have to put off working on the nuke for a while. Still, he gets results with his workplan; after a lot of banging, clanging, melting and welding, all of his planned upgrades to the scrunt vehicle fleet are implemented. He takes a bit longer than expected on some of them, meaning his idea for shotcannon shells has to take place without his direct supervision. Murdelia puts no more research effort into the EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG; not trusting herself around the syringes, she busies herself with seeing to scrunt injuries around the farm. There is a ready supply. The technoscrunt with the teeth still follows her around, pining, but she pays him no mind other than bumping into him a few times accidentally and eventually sending him flying with a vicious backhand. Grumb wakes up, shamefaced, in the emergency room, and spends a good deal of time blasting mindlessly down at the makeshift gunrange with the militia. making GBS threads yourself and piloting a walker to the roof of a nearby building is actually perfectly respectable scrunt behaviour, it's just a residual effect from the combat drug that's giving him the fear. He takes out his frustration on large chunks of farm machinery; several of the militia scrunts pick up helpful tips on gun control, and a couple of them bond with Barry via the expedient of aimlessly kicking the poo poo out of each other. Groin eventually gets his arm re-attached thanks to a passing mechanic; the lim takes offense, and drags him around the farm yard for a while before giving up and returning to its standard bird-flipping configuration. The operator whiles away the next couple of days industriously licking any machinery that he does not yet consider adequately marked as belonging to him. Kreb pops in and out of the scrunt's life, as is his way - he shows up for the unveiling of the nuke and gets a good few minutes suckling in before he is chased off, hissing. It's enough to give him a healthy glow, although some strange part of him is alarmed at the possibility of uncontrolled mutation. He spends the rest of the time loafing around the farm, nesting in the old genestealer tunnels and coming out at night to scavenge. Grimply spends his time ranging around seemingly at random. Occasionally, when other scrunts aren't around, he gingerly experiments with bathing. Gradually, his usual scrunt odor returns. He gets back to the usual routine of haranguing passing scrunts about their duties to the scruntfather. Gumbo convalesces, and, while not healing up, continues to drill the militia. Shaking down some of the weaker scrunts, they manage to scrounge up some rudimentary supplies, much to their enjoyment. They also do a bit of handiwork around the farm, to their chagrin. Still, even the stupidest among them recognises that it's nice to have something to dive behind if someone's shooting at you - Gumbo demonstrates a few times until they get the message. Yurik devotes his architectural know-how to corralling scrunts into stacking up poo poo in order to allow for the Scruntinel to be retrieved. It's slow going at first, as he's not the most persuasive of creatures at the best of times, but once the other, shriller scrunts make it evident that it's in everyone's best interests to get this "hey guys we stole your poo poo" sign down from the roof of the farmhouse, the civilian population eventually gets into gear. Boxes and crates are shuffled around disconsolately, and eventually a crude ramp is formed:  im the dog Grumb is summoned and prodded until he agrees to pilot the Scruntinel down the heap. Swallowing nervously, the gunner enters the cockpit; there is a brief conference between Yurik and some of the technoscrunts, and proceedings halt while his gravchute is attached to the base of the walker and revved up to max. Slowly, surely, Grumb plants one foot in front of the other - the walker minces gently down the trash hillock, swaying alarmingly, but it seems to be holding! Unfortunately, the civilians got bored with stacking poo poo up, and it turns out the bottom couple of steps are made of empty cardboard boxes - Grumb barely has time to yell out in dismay before the Scruntinel flips forward, falls several meters, and smashes headlong into the ground. Once the dust settles, it seems the damage isn't as bad as it could have been. Grumb's unharmed, and most of the impact seems to have been absorbed by an unlucky group of young scrunts who had been idly gawping at proceedings. Still, the Scruntinel needs a new lick of paint and probably some bolts tightened. Those armour plates seem to be a bit dented, too. ----------- Assault The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMX0jndU6cg It happens at night. Over the past couple of days, the scrunts had pretty much done everything in their power to be as visible and noisy as possible, unaware of the circle of patrols getting ever-closer. After a day or so, the anomolous activity at the farm was noted - to the Severan pathfinders' surprise, one of the Sentinel walkers from the detachment sent to guard the stolen truck was spotted on the roof of the farm building! A hell of a lot of activity was going on with wizened figures carting crap to and fro, although it was hard to tell exactly what at this range. A swift, confused report was despatched to HQ. The Severans appeared uncertain as to what it is they were actually facing - conservative in their strategy as always, High Command was unwilling to risk an overwhelming assault. The prevailing thought was that if the nuke-nappers felt the situation was hopeless, there was nothing stopping them from detonating the drat thing, and HQ wanted it back. An alpha strike was necessary, but it was an alpha strike against unknown forces and unknown odds. Debate raged for half a day, until a missive from a medical outpost near the site in question was received. Apparently they had a wounded soldier who was able to shed some light on the situation... --------- Thankfully, Grimply had noticed suspicious activity earlier that day. By fluke, the sniper had noticed the glint of light on a lens; by skill, he managed to stop himself from visibly reacting. Stretching theatrically, Grimply made a mental note of where the flashing was coming from before scampering off to a thicket by the farm gate which was doing double duty as scrunt latrine and scrunt barracks. With the setting sun behind him, Grimply peers back - his suspicions are confirmed. Watchers. It's probably about a couple hours until nightfall, and a nighttime raid seems likely if they've waited this long. This probably needs careful handling, thinks the sniper, deep in thought and drumming his fingers on a nearby sleeping scrunt. If they set up obvious defensive positions, or break the news to the scrunt herd at large, it'll give away the fact that the upcoming ambush is expected. This will in turn give the Severans more time to bring less subtle forces to bear; in this case, breaking out the Scrunt vehicles could actually make things tougher. On the other hand, if they're sneaky about this, they could fend off the initial assault, loot the bodies, and then scarper before the big guns show up, or just cut and run to begin with; pile all the scrunts and useful poo poo into the limos. This does mean leaving behind all that fuel that's scattered around the place, though, which would mean they're back to square one. Maybe some sort of decoy could work... Still, better tell the others; they can decide as a group.  Here's the farm map. You don't know where any attack will come from or what it will consist of. You do know that overt preparation (setting up vehicles, arming scrunt population) will result in a much bigger attacking force. You can do covert stuff (e.g. setting grenade traps) as general inscrutable scrunt behaviour, which will not provoke more of a response. Indicate where your scrunt is, and where any vehicle that you're controlling is. If you're in a building, assume you can see out of it and that you can take cover in a window. Each square is approx 5 square metres, or big enough for a vehicle if it's clear on both sides. The militia will act as a formation; decide where you want it. Combat is not yet inevitable if you come up with a cunning plan to avoid it. ----- scRRUNNT. let's skip quickly past all this: combat drug scrunts take -2 to four more chosen stats that you haven't used yet! Mung does his workplan; he gets the technoscrunts to make a full clip of shotcannon shells due to a couple hours' worth of failures on some rolls. This means that any time they're fired, roll d10 - on a 0, it's not a shotcannon round. It's something else. Murdelia heals people. Everyone's back to full wounds after two day's extended care and the scrunts like Murdelia a bit more because she spent time tending to their idiot wounds. Grumb shoots guns. The militia get +3 BS, +3 S, and can peform gun-related combat actions more complex than "pull the trigger" Gumbo scares up some poo poo for the militia. They've now got 2AP on the head, 1AP on the body, and a fire bomb each, and have spent a bit of time bolstering defences on the walls by filling cracks with sandbags, etc. Groin and Kreb arse around pointlessly. Kreb is also moderately radioactive now, like Groin. Grimply isn't so pissy any more, and keeps an eye out for intruders. Yurik helps gets the scruntinel down. Grumb barely fails a hard piloting test to descend; Scruntinel takes seven structural damage points. -------- Grimply spots the spotters, so you're forewarned about this and I'm not immediately placing your characters for you. Place your scrunt on the map, along with any vehicle you control, then we start combat. If it ain't done by next Tuesday I place your scrunt for you. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 17:59 on Jun 30, 2015 |
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Jun 30, 2015 17:56
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Mungly Mung The Counter Ambush Mung was not terribly pleased when he started hearing murmurs of a counter ambush. They're coming to steal what we done rightfully stole ourselves, he thought to himself as he starts thinking about his action plan. He doesn't have long so he only has enough time to accomplish one thing. He looks around the workshop to see if he can find some leftover pesticides or farm chemicals he can add to a barrel of promethium to make it burn slower and for a longer period rather than instantly cook off the moment it hits a spark. It was better for his plan if it burned out of control for longer... To keep from causing a panic, Mung just grabs just one other techscrunt for help. "Oi lad, we's gonna set up a right burny trap if'n case someone comes tryin to nick our stuff. Get two shovels and we'll bury this at the 'ole in the wall" -------------- Some time later Content at his attempt to bury the barrel, Mung starts into the next step of his plan. He takes a wheelbarrow and loads it up with trash from the scruntinel ramp and any old tires he can find that aren't currently attached to a vehicle. He slapdashedly assembles the tires and trash as a ramshackle barricade over the buried barrel of promethium to form a waist high mound of trash that anyone wanting in will need to scramble over. Mung then pulls apart one of the tauros flame grenades to get to the detonator in it. He attempts to rig the detonator to a tripwire on the backside of the trash pile so that coming over the pile will step on it and trigger a promethium, trash, and tire fire to keep them from advancing on our scrunty flanks. After his work is done, he scrambles into the chimera and plugs in his hosed up MIU into his shoulder and he waits for poo poo to pop off. -------------- Untrained Trade(Chemist) check to try and find a farm chemical to add to the promethium to slow down the rate of burn. No matter the result after that, tech use +10 to set up a trap at the wall breach using the detonator out of one of the tauros flame grenades as the ignitor. I'm trying to set this up with as few of scrunts as possible to minimize my exposure as a leader. After that, I'm getting in the driver's seat of the chimera in the workshop, leaving it purposely turned off and not joyriding so as to not attract attention to it.
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Jul 3, 2015 14:56
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As mentioned in the OOC thread, you're meant to stay away from the vehicles if you wish to avoid suspicion. As the Chimera is indoors and you've been hitting it for a wrench for three days this can probably slide as "not suspicious, but acknowledged" - scrunts wishing to be near other vehicles will need a similarly good reason and can be similarly certain their presence is noted.
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Jul 3, 2015 18:59
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Grimply, inside the farm, on high alert When he returns to the Farm, Grimply leaves the militia scrunts to their own devices. But he gives them a few encouraging words because they did okay on their first patrol, and also tells them to keep their guns ready because he just maybe will have a surprise night training operation planned. The scrunts look uncertain and vaguely nod before dispersing, but Grimply sets out with a stern look on his face. That's because he noticed something while he was outside the farm. Humies are watching them! Most likely getting ready for an ambush. Even more likely under the cover of night. Because that's what he would do. But when you're a hunter, you also have to think like the hunted at times. And a hunted that knows that he his hunted, becomes most dangerous when he doesn't betray the fact that he knows that he's the hunted. Wait...does that make sense? Yeah, it should. At least the faint voice inside his head is saying so. But it basically boils down to setting a trap for the ones that want to trap you, and that's something Grimply can get behind. But this needs to be handled with care. Scrunts like Flet can't be trusted with this knowledge, because they'll probably fack it all up. And if he's honest, most of the general scrunt population shouldn't know about it. Just too many fackers that could ruin everything. With this in mind, Grimply sets out to find Gumbo. He's a military scrunt and should know how things like these go down. Gumbo is found in the sheds, where he yells a few scrunts into shape and orders them to make push-ups while smoking one of his trademark cigars. "OI, lad! I needs ta talk with yer. It's some private business so yer gotta send tha otha lads on a run or somethin." Grimply gets a suspicious look from Gumbo, who still remembers the scrunt priest's weird antics from when they fled the ambush site. "Oh fer facks sake, it's nuthin weird! It's important so jus send yer lads away. Fack!" Gumbo complies, as he sees the stern look in Grimply's eyes. After a quick chat, he's brought up to speed and also agrees that most of the scrunts should be kept in the dark. He'll say the word to a few scrunts that he trusts, and will take care of a few preperations that don't arouse too much suspicion from the humies. On his way back to his chappel, Grimply's thoughts still race. He sees a few scrunts moving metal scrap and and other trash pieces around, and that gives him an idea. "Yer lads over thare! Oi! Yee, you! I dunno want this stuff around 'ere, right? Is nice enough already. Yer jus pile tha stuff on tha wall behind tha crops. They'll grow better this way, right?" Without waiting for a response, Grimply turns his attention to the gate next to the Farmhouse, and cobbles a frag grenade with some scraps from his ragged clothes to it. Satisfied with his crude "boom thing on a string" trap, he shouts to the milita scrunt on the tower to keep this gate closed for today. When asked why, he replies with the most sensible answer. "Because I said so, yer facker!" Then he sets off to collect Flet, and makes his way to the roof of the farmhouse to await the events of the coming night. ---------------------------------------------- ROOOLLLLSSS!! Not sure if I have to roll for my milita scrunts being slightly at the ready, but if so, pls make it for me GM If Gumbo wants to contribute any tactics rolls in his post it would be cool, otherwise the GM could maybe do it? Like, some prep things could probably only be done by Gumbo Deceive roll to have the scrunts pile pointy metal trash at the wall behind the crops 7 vs 42 ,the pointiest trash is piled Roll for my grenade trap 45 , not sure against what I have to roll here, but the -20 probably applies and I may have wounded myself badly. If so, pls use my 1 remaining fate point Roll to be sneaky while getting on the roof of the farmhouse and looking for a good spot to camp in that also gives me a good enough view 40 vs 47 Tin Tim fucked around with this message at 21:36 on Jul 6, 2015 |
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Jul 6, 2015 17:26
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Groin Sklunger Scrunt ______ Groin is asleep in one of the guard towers, he doesn't know where his Scruntauros is.
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Jul 6, 2015 21:26
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Grumb Slanger, the dormitories Grumb sits at a splintered, 3-legged table in the dormitory area, spooning down a bowl of mulligan stew and discussing the finer points of toilet winery with his cousin when suddenly the young scruntling Pirk approaches hurriedly. "Grumb!" he whines, tugging on the corner of the gunner's burlap poncho, "Mister Sarg'nt Gumbo send-newsin' ya!" Grumb leans down, and the wee one whispers the news into his greasy ear. "Mister Sarg'nt Gumbo seys there's a squadda hu-mos looks like they's fixin' to ambush us. He seys you should all get reddy fer'ra fight, but you should-a no tells errybody." Grumb attempts to suppress a look of concern, and sits up in his chair with a look in his eyes like a child who has been told a juicy bit of gossip. "Hey Barry. C'mere." He whispers the news to Barry, and as he talks he begins to formulate a plan. Barry nods, and slips out the door with Pirk as inconspicuously as a pair of conspicuous idiots can manage. Grumb looks over at the group of scrunts dining around him. He counted a handful of warrior scrunts - battered stubbers and knives dotted every few belts about the dormitory. Not great, but it would have to do. "'Ay you lot! News in from tha Sargeant!" Recognizing Grumb as one of the leaders of the loosely-organized scrunt militia, the scrunts perk up and listen. "Sarge says he bets us a hunnerd blunts that we lot can't all fit behind the tables wif' guns and knives all night!" Confused gazes pass from scrunt to scrunt as he continues "But he's a big dummy, I sez of course we can! Now let's all flip up tha tables an' hide!" He overturns his own table, splattering mulligan stew all over a pair of scruntlings. He starts to slide it over toward the windows. "Over 'ere," he says, "So tha sarge can see how good we's hiding!" He slides up against the table, performing a quick check of his person. Barry'd better find his way back here soon, he thinks, drawing his combat knife with one hand and his sketchy plasma grenade with the other. ------------------------------------- Command test to wrangle the scrunts into hiding spots without directly divulging the threat - Fellowship + 10 (peer:scum) = 36, and I roll... 75. So this probably won't go well. Or maybe this means they see through my ruse, idk your call. Barry is making a trip to the shed where we installed the shooting range, in hopes of bringing back Betsy and/or Clive. It's up to you to decide if he is able to make it back in time, and what he finds. Scruntinel is in the workshop, and still has not been properly hosed down. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 18:07 on Jul 7, 2015 |
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Jul 6, 2015 23:18
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Yurik Scraglagger The Farm Malbrathia-3 Yurik was exhausted. A Loremaster's life was a busy one...scrunts didn't boss themselves around after all. Well, most of them didn't anyway. He had been about to retire to his lair at the top of the manor house when Grimply had surreptitiously notified him of the fact that the blasted humies had found them, were watching them, and were even now probably planning on ambushing them once the sun was down. If it wasn't one thing it was another. He stood there in thought as Grimply left to inform the others...obviously they needed to be smart about this, and by "they" he meant "him, and maybe Grimply too." It wouldn't do to let the humies know that they were onto them. But one of the best ways to out-clever someone was to make them think that they were out-clevering you. "All right, all right, up an' at'em ya' lazy lugshites!," he shouted, whacking a nearby meandering scrunt with his thinkin' stick to get their attention. "Go an' round up all that junk we used to make stairs earlier! It's time to move it somewhere else now, an' get a move on!" *** Sorry for the short/lovely post but I'm tired as hell. The plan is this, Yurik will browbeat some scrunts into moving a bunch of junk from earlier into a NEW CONFIGURATION. There's that hole in the wall to the southeast. What I want to do is leave that hole open, a tempting target for some clever Severan to see and think about using, but when they go through it I want to use piles of junk placed at strategic points around and between those four little shed things to funnel them into a kill zone where they can easily be shot up/burned/exploded/whatevered. Yurik will attempt this via Scholastic Lore (Tactica Imperialis) at TN 43 (or 53 if the 10 minute Foresight bonus has enough time to apply here). It doesn't matter because I roll a 74, womp womp. I'm not gonna FP it, let it ride. Yurik will then position himself in the upper floor of the manor house wherever there are windows that he can overlook the eastern part of the farm complex as that's where he's imagining an assault is more likely to come from. In order to fool the Severans, he'll leave several lights on in parts of the manor where he ISN'T while staying as low profile as he can in the room he's actually in.
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Jul 7, 2015 06:52
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Gumbo Bulge, personal crisis Gumbo stares at the syringe in his hand. It calls to him, a whisper, or the grinding of iron against iron. He removes the protective sheath from the needle, but his hand is stayed - combat, this is for combat, it says right there, he thinks, he's never been a big reader. Still, words on gear, that's practically an order. He returns the syringe to his belt and lights a cigar instead. Pirk coughs. Grimply strolls over in his most nonchalant manner, the first sign that something is wrong. After he leaves, Gumbo takes a few minutes to consider, then turns to his assistant. "Was 'opin wed avoi this. Ah well. Pirk, tell th others whats comin. Ahll find th boys an get em ready." He waddles casually through the farm, picking up the odd fighter on the way, and eventually finds his way to the dorms, where Grumb seems to have found the rest. He's pleased to see someone sensible* has had the same thought as himself and decides to reward the scrunt for his forethought the only way he knows how. "Evenin Corpral! Yev foun tha lads! Now we jus oughta figure out where to put em." *Gumbo was unconscious for the sentinel rampage. Gumbo will use his knowledge of tactics to (hopefully) predict the likely entry points of the severans, and then his command ability to get the militia scrunts hiding in an advantageous position with him and Grumb.
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Jul 7, 2015 08:44
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Murdelia Skurvy Fecking about Murdelia is bored and listless. She could do useful things like research the Experimental Combat Drug even now corroding her synapses and corrupting her physiology. She could scavenge some weedkiller or rat poison and turn it into an anti-radiation drug. She could do all sorts of things. But she won't, because she's feeling lazy as gently caress. So she's wandering scruntily between trash piles looking for shiny bits to lift, only to discover a discarded magazine, soiled, but still proudly displaying some kind of product for sale in all good Imperial wargaming outlets. "SIGMOR!" she bellows, punching the nearby heap-scrunt right in the chestal region. "AAAUGH! FACKERS!" "THEY STOLE ME IDEA!"
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Jul 7, 2015 10:15
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Doldrums Some Distance Outside The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysPtBjY8o_A Hell of a week to give up lho. Staff Sergeant Lucius squints through the binoculars into the setting sun, desperately attempting to get a fix on whatever's going on in the farm down the road. Him and the rest of his team had been abruptly pulled off patrols up north by the perimeter and, apparently, shipped down here at high speed to keep an eye on some weird midgets. It's been a day and a half now, watching in shifts, getting soaked by more and more drizzle, and he's bored shitless and terrified in equal measure. In typical Severan style, his guys are woefully underequipped and underskilled for this sort of surveillance job; some dickhead pencilpusher thought you could just slap some rifles and scopes into the hands of what's normally a close-assault squad, and that would be an end to it. With this in mind, he'd expect to see a bundle of snipers be forced to attempt the breach, but apparently some heavy squad's been scared up from nearer the front lines. Glancing back, Lucius can see the squads detailed for the assault. They're hanging around aimlessly, gathered around that weird medical transport truck, cleaning guns, playing cards, or staring at nothing. He's pretty sure that one just vomited. Shaking his head, he turns back to his watch. More farmhands. Boys, pressed into uniform too young. Lightly armed and herded towards the fray. A couple of them are toting those loving useless one-shot rocket packs, but he doubts an untrained, terrified farmer's going to be much use with one of those at night. At least they've been issued torches; any nightvision sights have been sequestered for front line duties and the brass couldn't scrape together any in time. Lucius and his snipers are just going to have to take potshots at any illuminated targets. It's a loving joke. Better hope that heavy squad's worth their reputation, and that the thing in the truck can keep it together. Weird that he insisted on coming along, though. On the other hand, what're they going up against? This could be a milkrun. These weird midgets haven't done much of any use to defend their perimeter other than strew garbage everywhere, and their guards seem to only get their guns the right way round half the time. They seem to have remembered to close the gates after that incident the other night where one of them wandered out and got eaten by one of those rabbity things that have been showing up everywhere, but apart from that they seem unable to comprehend the idea that they might have enemies. But then.. they might have stolen that truck. And torched that wood. So maybe they're tougher than they look? And are just looking stupid as camouflage? Lucius shrugs mentally, and keeps watching. Whatever the gently caress these things are, they probably need to die really badly. If the missing truck's found once the assault teams are finished picking over the bodies, so much the better. He glances to the sky, where clouds gather menacingly, and twilight sets in. Disturbance The Farm Malbrathia-3 Scrunting occurs, furtively and worryingly. Mung sets up his trap with no problem and is not tagged as a leader. He gets 97 on his Chymistry test so he's stuck with quick-burning promethium. Grimply sets up his 'nade trap under the assumption he collars a passing technoscrunt to help. Scrunts are not currently in short supply. Barricades happen. He is not observed on the roof of the house; no-one knows he's there. Grumb fails to persuade the militia to do anything useful; they cheerfully tell him to gently caress off, but bear no grudge. Guns are returned in time as there's, like, hours, but Barry has never been allowed unsupervised access to Betsy before and it's getting him all het up. Should the weapon absent-mindedly not be claimed back off him he will empty its clip at the first enemy to show their head, counting as a semi-auto suppressing fire burst. Gun will need a reload, though. Gumbo uses his astounding tactical knowledge to decide that the enemy will probably come in through the gates, or through the gap in the fence. If they come through anywhere else he's got no real way of predicting it, but it doesn't really matter because they'll need to go through the main areas to get anywhere in the farm. So, he sets up with a commanding view of both approaches. The militia are gathered with him; shortly after the sun went down he successfully motivated them to get the gently caress up and come follow him. Yurik browbeats scrunts, fails in his tactics roll. He has no idea where anyone could possibly come from despite moving to block off a potential ingress point. They could be in the walls. in the walls. Murdelia is distraught by the Age of Sigmar release of Warhammer, and should she be able to come up with an in-character reason to shout "For the Lady!" before her next attack (free action), she may reroll any misses. Kreb sort of scuttles about and hisses a bit Groin will wake up in time to take his combat round. Poise The Farm Malbrathia-3 Ok, here's how things stand at the moment. Hopefully everyone can tell all the scrunts and vehicles apart; click 4 big.  Spikey bits are barricades; they count as cover, and count as accordion wire to cross (i.e. you might get wounded doing so). Here is a light map  It's not pitch black, so if you're not illuminated it's -20 to attempts to shoot you. Melee remains the same. If you are a scrunt and you are illuminated you may be targeted by snipers. You might have torches, you might find some in the workshop, but if you're waving a torch around then snipers can see you. Each square is... gently caress, what did I say last time was the scale? What scale makes sense for this? ----------- scrunnnt combat begins tomorrow if i'm not too tired
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Jul 8, 2015 21:57
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Deluge The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6Cyw0tonwc The scrunts were given an hour or so of darkness. No sounds drifted across the camp other than the usual bellows of "FECK" and "SCRUNT" that accompany any group of scrunts bigger than zero. Most of the civilian population, on finding no machine-shop work being done or any amusing scrunt violence happening, had apparently been successfully induced into getting an early night; crowding into sheds, sleeping under tables, or draping themselves over piles of trash. The militia scrunts shared rollups and strange, steaming liquids around an oildrum fire, while the party scrunts waited and listened. It's Groin who detects them first; jolted from sleep by the tell-tale sound of wheels on tarmac, he peers through the gloom to find out what's going on. Through his fuzzy bionic eye feed, he can just about make out a squad of Severans slowly rolling a backwards-facing truck towards the farm gate. Panicking slightly at the idea that the scrunts inside the camp have arranged to have him taken away so that they can steal his licked vehicles, he topples backwards, arm thrashing furiously in a frenzied jerkoff motion. A blast of static discharges from his eye, making the watchtower light rock slightly - this is all Grimply needs to gain his attention. From his vantage point the sniper can see three squads creeping through the night, one towards each gate and one aiming for the damaged, makeshift wall by the sheds. Aware that he may be being watched, he communicates this to the other scrunts by gesticulating wildly and swearing hoarsely in a stage whisper. It's hard to hear the sniper, though, because that roaring noise in the distance has been getting louder and louder for a minute or so now. Just as Groin notices the oncoming squads, and Grimply begins trying to catch the other scrunts' attention, the voice of an angry god tears across the farm complex, rattling windowpanes and sending Age of Scruntmar rulebooks flapping and fluttering in the backdraft. Apparently the stealthy approach only goes so far. The black shape overhead resolves itself into the dim silhouette of a battered Valkyrie carrier, albeit one that doesn't appear to have any weapons pods. It banks widely and streaks off, back to the west, as its payload of droptroopers touch down. Unlike the Severan squads, they're clad in full-body armour complete with enclosed helmet, and they move quickly and efficiently, hoisting bulky black weapons with a worrying degree of aptitude. This appears to be the Severan's cue to move in; two of the squads are stymied by the barred gates, but begin attempting to force them. The third squad, faced with only a trash barricade, storms in with gusto; two by two they charge through the breach, and stomp down on the trigger mechanism for Mung's trap. He's not found any chemicals to successfully slow the burn of the promethium, and so rather than a crude flaming barrier, Mung has in essence created a gigantic IED. Most people don't really think about quite how much explosive power a barrel of promethium contains; Mung thinks, though. He thinks and he likes.  With a colossal bang, the promethium barrel detonates, taking out most of the wall, practically all of the third squad, the corners of the two southern sheds, and a couple of dozen or so scrunts who'd set up home for the night in there. The rest of the scrunts in these sheds are awoken with a start; taking in the situation with impressive speed for creatures of such unbelievable gormlessness, they raise a hue and cry in the traditional scrunt fashion. Shouts of "FECK" and "SCRUNT" and "AL QUAEDAAAA" ring out across the night; scrunts in other sheds simply mutter in their sleep and grab for more of the filthy blanket, but these mobs are ready to stampede! The Severans realise their raid has become an ambush, with predictable results on their morale. Their momentary lapse in concentration enables the rest of the scrunts to spring into action! each square is 3m square  click 4 big lightmap:  code:sccRRRRuuuNTTTTT Squads are the Severan troopers. Teams are the Severan droptroopers. There are three guys in each dropsquad who need to be killed individually. Droptroopers are in full guard flak and have gunz. You can't make out what type until they get in the light; Team Two has two combat shotguns and a bolter. Squads are formations and thus any damage will kill dudes. You don't know what they've got in-character but you can probably guess they're armed with the same as the previous squads you've encountered. Scruntmobs will move under GM control Act. I'd suggest turning some lights on that aren't attached to you. Feel free to give provisional actions, e.g. "Groin will j/o wildly in the tower, UNLESS he is attacked in which case he will beat off his attacker", or "Grumb will shoot the big vehicle, UNLESS a bigger vehicle shows up" Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 22:31 on Aug 19, 2015 |
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Jul 9, 2015 22:23
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Groin Sklunger The Farm, Hambush! "Oh feck!" Groin, thinks to himself frantically. One moment he was enjoying a peaceful scruntnap (scrunt nap), and the next there's explosions, aircraft and humans; oh my! Groin noticed a group of little humans scutlling about below his guard tower, but he can't be sure if they noticed him, or if they're more concerned with the ENORMOUS explosion that just went off. He clutches at his grenade pouch and gingerly peaks a beady eye over the top of the tower where the humans were last. Sneakily, he pulls out two grenades, squints his organic eye, pulls the pins and deviously rolls the grenades over the edge of the tower toward the unsuspecting humies below! ______________ Half Action to ready grenades, and then another Half Action to roll two Frag Grenades at squad 1's position! Throw Frag Grenade: 1d100 = 1 Holy moley! Moola fucked around with this message at 00:06 on Jul 10, 2015 |
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Jul 9, 2015 22:48
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Squad one will almost certainly still be there (they're not getting through the gate in one round) so overwatch doesn't really apply; that's when you're waiting for something to pop into view. For example Grumb could use overwatch then open fire when squad two breaks through the gate; in your case, though, because everyone's already in plain sight you'll get more mileage out of just aiming and firing. Dodge reaction is a separate thing to doing your-turn stuff like firing or aiming; you get one Reaction per turn but it happens outside your round. You can fire and dodge in the same turn. Also I forgot Grumb said he was in the kitchen of the dormitory building, which is further north; if you want to shift position that's fine I'll sort that out before the next update.
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Jul 9, 2015 22:58
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No, right there is just fine actually. -------------------------------- Grumb Slanger, the dormitories Grumb cannot help but feel a touch of awe at the sight of the severan drop troops descending from their transport. There was such efficiency to it, such clarity of purpose. These were real soldiers, clearly cut from different stuff than the farm boys and truck jockeys they'd faced before. These guys deserved the best. Only in the heartbeat between yanking the pin from the improvised plasma grenade and its subsequent departure from his hand, only then did Grumb ever really look at the grenade. It was hand-crafted. There was a beautiful composition to it, really. The repurposed cylindrical chasse of a smoke-grenade had been augmented with the pressure cap and thermo-fuse plug of a plasma grenade in just such a way that the center of balance was maintained, both practically and aesthetically. There was custom branding near the cap, and the tasteful blue labeling on the handle - reading simply "PLAS" - was hand-stenciled. In small hand-etched letters, a corner of it read: "For Susan" It really was a nice grenade. Isn't it funny in life how we never appreciate what we have until it's gone? ------------------------------ My strength bonus is 4 and the range on the grenade is SBx3m, so if each square is 3 meters then i've got range on team two. Rolling against my strength of 41, and I get a 32. One degree of success! With my second action Grumb is going to equip Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 17:49 on Jul 10, 2015 |
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Jul 10, 2015 00:18
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Mungly Mung The Counter Ambush Mung awoke in the driver's seat with a startle upon hearing his trap go off. It means either one of the scrunt children set off the booby trap and he now has to yell at the witless parent, or the humans had come to try and nick the nuke they done rightfully stole. It was time to start acting. He turns out the back of the open chimera and shouts "Oi lads, anyone who's not too busy shittin himself outta get any fuel back in the tanker, we're gonna need ta leg it proper quick once we're done shootin' up tha place. Just get the fuel from tha workshop, don't go outside to get it." Mung turns to the signal-jammey talky box to his previous recording when they were on the run from the tanks and blasts it out on all channels. If they are listening, Mung will make sure they get an earful. Mung then turns the ignition in the chimera and winces as the MIU kicks on and fills his vision with the phrase DEHUMANIZE YOURSELF AND FACE TO BLOODSHED over and over. He wasn't quite sure what it meant; he may have to look at that later. He raises the back door into the closed position and gets the engine roaring to life. ------------------- Consider my first action to turn on the signal jammer and start the chimera. The OBVIOUS HEY YOU ARE BEING JAMMED signal is horrible scrunt singing on all channels of all people in range in range.
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Jul 10, 2015 05:24
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Murdelia Skurvy Fightin' The Valkyrie roared overhead, and as it departed there was a brief moment of relative quiet. At least until the drum of fuel detonated and sent a plume of fire into the air.  The wave of heat and light washed over the scene in a flash, revealing the humans who had just dropped down inside the compound wall. A few rulesheets and warscrolls lazily drifted about in the air and after the explosion everything was dark again, but they were otherwise unobscured. One sheet slapped into Murdelia's face, and she was filled with scruntish emotions and memories of wargaming past.  Her first attempt at making a scrunt.  The Pink Slasher.  The Pudding Elemental.  The hosed-Up Tiny 'Fex  And her most recent, expert piece of work. All consigned to the dustbin of history. A poignant reminder of a simple scrunt's mortality, perhaps? Or a brutal commentary on the faceless, aimless march of orthodoxy espoused by the bureaucratic nightmare of the Imperium and it's primary wargaming manufactorum planets? "FACK YOU ALL!" she howls, firing wildly at the enemy. ___________________________________________________ Firing the Scrunt Surgical Laser at a Team One member on Semi-Auto, Aim half-action and Arnika assisting aim. Firing at Team One round 1: 1d100 89
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Jul 10, 2015 07:22
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Grimply, roofin Grimply sat on the roof, waiting, and subconsciously fingering around on his holy book. He hoped that the Father would watch over his scrunts tonight, because humies can be crafty and do weird things that you don't expect. It's just in their treacherous nature. The tension gets broken when he notices Groin fackin around in his guard tower. Something must be happening to wake him from his scruntnap, so it's probably the darned humies. Grimply immediately flails and hisses to alert the other scrunts, but the darkness makes it hard to tell if that has any effect. He also can't think about it much longer, because some other things also happen. First, a huge and beautiful explosion goes off near the crops, and Grimply is pretty sure that he can hear cries of pain under the booming sound. "Nicely done, lads." he mutters to himself But the other thing isn't so nice. A huge humie flyer box roars over the farm, and drops humies right in there middle! He knew that the fackers would use dirty tricks! And these humies look a lot more serious than the other humies he's seen so far. That Barry fella was a weak and pitiful creature, but these ones are bulky with armor and big guns. Grimply spits in defiance as he centers his rifle on the fancy humie team in front of the farm house, while Flet peers through his scruntnocular and yees in fear. ---------------------------------------------- I order Flet to full turn aim on the member of team 2 that's like in the middle of them Half action to shoot a Flash round at that member of team 2 46 vs 85 (45 +20(aim) +10(single) +10(short)) My other half action to switch to my Longlas after the shot If team 2 gets wiped before my turn, then I'm kinda in the air and want to do some kind of test to get sight on another target if that's possible. If so, then I probably shoot the flash at that and don't switch guns because tests like that are also a half action iirc. If I can see something without testing for it, then I'll shoot it with the -20 iirc and still switch guns "Tha big one" Longshot Sniper Rifle (350m / s/-/- / [damage by ammo type] / [pen by ammo type] / clip 1 / rld full / Accurate) Flash rounds: No damage / Blast (5) / Acts as photon flash grenade, no Accurate "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 40 / 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 17:39 on Jul 14, 2015 |
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Jul 10, 2015 15:39
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Yurik Scraglagger The Farm Malbrathia-3 Yurik peered scruntily through the window across the night-shrouded farmstead, beady eyes alert for signs of movement, ears pricked for the telltale crack of lasbolts of pop of autogun fire. The room he was in was as dark as the rest of the farm, while he had left the lights on in the rooms above and below him. It was just another example of his unaccountable brilliance in action...humies, similarly to many species of insect, were attracted to bright lights. While the Severan forces were too busy scanning the illuminated rooms for threats, he'd remain safe and undetected in the darkness, able to reach out with his mind and ruthlessly crush them at his leisure. Or at least he'd be able to do so once they finally hurried the fack up and went through with it, that is. He shifted his weight back and forth as he continued to peer and listen, paranoia creeping in around the edges. The problem with brilliance, of course, was that you were acutely aware of all the different ways a thing could occur. What if the Severans decided not to go through the enticing hole in the wall? What if they split their forces up and approached the farm from multiple directions? What if they were simply forward observers for an artillery barrage and at any moment the farm would be bombarded with high explosive ordnance? They were sitting scrunts! This was madness! They should have headed down into the tunnels when they'd had the chance, and now they were about to die here in the dark as shells whistled down overhead- Mung's improvised landmine detonating in the distance caused Yurik to leap upright with a squawk, one hand clamped down on his thinkin' cap. "It's already started!," he thought to himself. His only regret was that he never realized his dreams of the galaxy trembling at his name. He waited for the end with stoic dignity, which is to say hyperventilating with a white-knuckled death grip upon his thinkin' stick, but after a moment his educated ear determined that the high-pitched roaring whine coming from outside wasn't an incoming artillery shell but a Valkyrie troop transport. "Those fackers! They're comin' in by AIR!" The Severans were pulling out all the stops this time. Emboldened by not dying horribly, the Loremaster straightened himself up and scuttled closer to the window as a trio of Severan soldiers touched down in front of the manor house, brandishing brutal-looking weaponry. Apparently they were planning on storming the house. Too bad for them Yurik planned on storming them first. With his brain. *** Yurik will half action scuttle 3 meters (one square) in a southernly direction closer towards Team Two. Then he'll unleash one of his brain powers at Unfettered, aka not pushing it but not hemmed in either. First off, Yurik is going to wait for Grumb and Grimply's actions to take place before he does his thing. If the grenade leaves multiple Team 2 troops alive then he'll target the one with the bolter (or one of the others if that dude is dead) with Spontaneous Combustion, which doesn't give a gently caress about visibility penalties. It's at TN 80 (Will 50 +10 psy focus +10 Psy Rating +10 for the power itself) and I get a 48, so no psychic phenomena and I achieve a total of 4 DoS on my roll. Technically this power can be dodged, don't ask me how you dodge being spontaneously combusted from the inside out, but WHATEVER. Anyway it does 1d10+6 damage Pen 0 in this case with the Flame quality.
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Jul 11, 2015 01:40
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Drekk The Farm Malbrathia-3 Drekk was nursing a killer hangover from one too many bottles of pissbeer in one of the buildings used as a makeshift bunkhouse when he heard loud commotions and explosions. He let out a mighty "FECK!" as the improvised bomb Mung set up went off. "Can't a scrunt get a bit of shut eye 'round 'ere!?" Drekk then got up, scratched his arse, belched, and tossed an empty bottle at a scruntling looking through his gear. He grabbed his stuff and sauntered out to see what all the commotion was about. Everything looked like it was on fire and hordes of scruntlings were running around like chickens with their heads cut off screaming "SLAM SECTOR" and "DEM HUMIES ARE GONNA KILL US ALL!!!!". In his haze, he decided to go see Yurik and ask him what the hell is going on and hoping he has answers. *** Drekk is hella hungover right now and he's heading over to the manor to look for Yurik. Since he isn't quite receptive right now, here's a perception test (Drekk has 32 Perception [20 + 12]) to see if he'll bump into any of the Severan troops also heading for the manor.
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Jul 11, 2015 16:08
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Gumbo Bulge, in the dark At the barricade, Gumbo waits patiently, silently. The militia around him wait less professionally, squawking, farting and occasionally brawling amongst themselves. Gumbo doesn't mind, they are eager to fight. He clutches his laspistol, untested in combat. A battered valkyrie comes hurtling into view and Gumbo has a momentary vision of command, tearing through the skies dropping angry Scrunts upon his enemies. Seconds later the explosion lights up the camp and Gumbo wonders if he ought to have moved the civilian Scrunts away from the wall - or into any kind of defensible position at all. But it's too late for that now, men have appeared, presumably from the Valk. Three of them stand in full view, looking slightly confused. Nice guns, thinks Gumbo. He nudges the militia about him, indicating the drop troopers, steps up the barricade to a firing position and - as carefully as he can manage - points his laspistol at the nearest droptrooper. "GO gently caress YERSELVES!!" he screams. "KILL EM ALL BOYS" Gumbo suggests the nearby militia scrunts concentrate fire on team two since thats the only enemy they can see clearly, then he makes a Get them! order (43 FEL +10 COM = 53). I also want to order Pirk to Ranged Volley with Gumbo for the +5 bonus but I'm not sure if its possible to make both orders in the same turn? He then takes a half action aim and fires his laspistol at the bolter guy in team two. (30 BS + 10 Aim + 10 Std Atk = 50 - 55 if Pirk is helping) Phoon fucked around with this message at 10:57 on Jul 14, 2015 |
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Jul 14, 2015 10:50
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Monsoon The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M6TQGpxGr5Q The rain continues to beat down, great fat raindrops smothering lingering flames from the promethium IED. Similiarly, Murdelia's eyes are filled with tears of rage at the shabby treatment of the Scruntverse by the major wargaming forge worlds, and her shots whistle off into the darkness, striking no-one. Kreb crouches motionless in the rain, yeeing faintly to himself. He's hearing faint voices from within, from the part of himself that is not himself. Strangely, the voices appear to be trying to convince him to kill himself. Maybe it's some sort of spore-release mechanism or something, but if he can't distract himself soon by doing something, anything, then he might give in to temptation. Mung crouches in the Chimera driving seat and cranks up the signal jammer sitting in the hull gunner's seat beside him. Servitor-rats swarm and scuttle all over it; initiating the jamming protocols requires a solid minute of actual paying attention rather than simply pressing the "on" switch and waiting, but it's something the technoscrunt's comrade can handle. Or maybe one of the nearby cowering, shouting, or sleeping lesser technoscrunts, if Mung doesn't mind risking having his jammer turned into a cool sound system or a paperweight. Drop Team One, reacting to Murdelia's fusillade, dash into cover behind the corner of the shed, loosing a return volley of fire as they run. A combination of solid shot and what sounds like lasfire crackles overhead, but the humans have aimed unfortunately high and nothing connects. Squad One, outside the farm, get their shoulders behind the gate and heave it open. The way into the farm is clear! Yurik scuttles a short distance and then performs the only example of someone correctly using a Delay Action in 40K RPG combat that I have ever seen. He bides his time, as Dreck tugs at his sleeve wanting to know what's going on... Grumb rips his master-crafted, jury-rigged plasma grenade off his spiked collar and hurls in one fluid motion, pin remaining in one oversized hand as he grabs Clive where it counts. Whoever's churning out knock-off plasma 'nades might be on to a good thing, as it lands dead centre in the middle of where Drop Team Two were standing a second ago. The troopers are moving as soon as the grenade leaves Grumb's hand - two of them get clear, but the one carrying the bolter is too slow. He is caught in coruscating green fire and screams as his armour cracks and melts, taking most of his arm with it. Sadly, it's not the bolter arm, but all he can do is stare up at the night sky and howl as his superheated armour continues to cook the meat of his now-useless limb. Gumbo watches the humies hit the deck, and, with the beady-eyed cunning of a master tactician, kicks them when they're down. It doesn't take much persuasion to get the scrunt militia to blaze away at off-balance enemies, but in the gloom it's difficult for scrunts to make out his expressive hand gestures, and so their natural killer instinct isn't awakened. Gumbo himself takes casual aim at the stunned bolter trooper, and burns a hole through his guts. The screaming stops. Groin rolls a couple of grenades off his perch, cackling gleefully. As the grenades fall, his bionic arm lashes out and delicately taps them into a new trajectory. The Severans never see their doom coming; with the inexplicable guile of a cornered scrunt, Groin manages to rip the heart out of the beleaguered assault squad. Seven men lie dead by his hosed-up, constantly-gesturing hand and the remainder are appalled at the noises coming from above them. Drop Team Three dash to the windows at the back of the workshop. There's not much light within, and the looted tanker is actually not illuminated by light from the farmhouse (it's not actually occupying all those squares) but Mung is badly shaken to nevertheless hear a guttural voice shout in surprise "THE TRUCK! RAISE HQ!". He cuffs his rats to make them work faster, but they need more time... still, the technoscrunt cannot detect any long-range communications going on, so perhaps their HQ is out of range of commbeads and requires a full voxcaster to contact. Grimply continues to live up to his perverted reputation, and flashes the hell out of the farm invaders. The wounded trooper manages to throw his arm up in time to block the worst of the flash, but the other one takes the round full in the face. His helmet and visor seem to cut out the worst of it, but he's still staggering around, disorientated and blinded. Yurik takes the opportunity to set the wounded trooper on fire with his mind. The squad can't really get up to much of any use under these circumstances, so the two troopers, one panicked, one screaming, both sprint-stagger in the direction their momentum was originally carrying them. They are arrested suddenly by the window frame and crash through the glass and over the table behind which Grumb is sheltered. Squad Two force the gate, and are horrified by what they find. The Scrunt Militia eventually manage to bring their fire down to a level where it might be useful, and fell a couple of the encroaching guardsmen. Meanwhile, rampaging hordes of scrunts pour forth from the shattered sheds, roaming around seemingly at random. Two particularly directed groups of scrunts storm through the other sheds, away from the explosion, barging through doors and crashing through windows, in an attempt to escape further unpleasantness. By a minor miracle, Squad Three do not break and run; they surge forwards, waving the flashlights on the ends of their flashlights. A terrific rhythmic crashing can be heard from the direction of the medical truck off to the east, even over all that gunfire. Perceptive scrunts can dimly make out the truck rocking back and forth on its wheels. Sounds like all the booming has drawn some attention.  click4big  lightmap ---- scrunt no-one's done a picture for Dreck so he is represented by Hitler Murdelia misses a lot Kreb is on deathwatch and will be removed if he misses three turns Mung starts the jammer process going. Rather than sitting staring at his box for ten rounds it can be handled by other technical creatures. Drop Team One get their Full Move on and use Hip Shooting to blaze away at Murdelia. None of them roll better than an 88. Racists. Yurik waits... Grumb makes me realise I never put a Blast quality on the plasma grenade. It's Blast 3, same as a frag. He hurls, he hits, two of the drop squad dodge out of range (naturally the rulebook doesn't include dodging blast rules other than "completely negate the attack!!!", so I'm saying "move up to your AG bonus to get out of range, if you can't get out of range you can't dodge". The third is caught. He is knocked straight down to Critical 4 on the arm. He's stunned for a round, is in Blood Loss, and because he's just a tough NPC, further critical damage will get added onto that 4 regardless of location. Gumbo can, apparently, do a Get Them and a regular "help me with gunz" order to Pirk; sweeping orders are free actions. He gets a 55 vs 53, though, so doesn't inspire the scrunts to do more damage. The scruntgeant himself finishes off the downed trooper. Drop Team Two has two members left lol @ Groin; he righteous furied with a grenade, killing four formation members, and killed three more with the other one. Drop Team Three run to the back of the machine shop and can't see anyone to Hip Shoot. They will probably get radios out next turn. Grimply blinds a man for two rounds. Yurik steps in with his withheld action and doesn't actually do any damage. Dude's still on fire, though Drop Team Two move to reduce uncertainty, by screaming and sprinting in a random direction. The flaming one's moving randomly, the blind one is following his squadmate. They are technically in melee with Grumb but they won't attack him if he disengages. Squad Two open the gates and get shot. The militia scrunts get a 15, meaning they get like 7 DoS, 7 autogun hits, and kill three mans. Scruntmobs move via Run action. They'll attack anyone they end up in contact with. you're plowing through the formations, unsurprisingly, and seem to have learned to focus your fire, which is nice
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Jul 16, 2015 22:25
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Mungly Mung In the Chimera Mung realizes the flaw of his plan when the signal jammer doesn't immediately turn on. It takes a minute for the jammer to fully charge to where it'll broadcast. He leaves his techrats to fiddle with the jammer while he gets to work. He hears the shouting from the back window and sees humans. Mung, being far to cowardly to run out to confront them, does the next best thing: Driving the chimera through the wall to run said troopers down. ---------- You didn't say anything about it in the update re: my last turn turning on the chimera, so I'm running on the assumption that the chimera is now on and I can attempt to kool-aid man through the (assumingly corrugated tin) walls to get at the drop team 3. +10 for MIU interface, +5 for armor cloak. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 01:32 on Jul 17, 2015 |
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Jul 17, 2015 01:29
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Chimera is on. OHH YEAAHHHH
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Jul 17, 2015 18:11
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Yurik Scraglagger The Siege Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Yurik's cackling as one of the Severan troopers burst into flames was interrupted by the sensation of someone tugging insistently upon his sleeve. Under normal circumstances his reaction to something like that would be to quickly whirl around and clout the impertinent sleeve-tugger upside the head with his thinkin' stick, or to get incredibly huffy and passive-aggressive if they looked bigger and stronger than he was, which the scrunt in question did, but setting someone on fire with his mind always elevated both the Loremaster's mood as well as his general sense of mania. The scrunt's name was Drekk, he noted idly. Of course they'd never been introduced but that was a trivial concern when you were the undisputed master of mental might and mayhem. Also the scrunt had a patch on his jacket with his name sewn on it. "C'mon lad, c'mon! Step lively now!," Yurik said, grabbing Drekk's own sleeve and yanking him along for the ride with surprising exuberance, an unwholesome, yellow-toothed smile upon his face. It's the humies, lad! They've come to nick back what we nicked from them earlier! But the only thing we're lettin'em have is their own arses served up on a platter! C'mon fack-dangit, this ain't the time for lollygaggin' and loafabrickin'! There!," he pointed with his staff as they scuttled down the stairs in time to watch Grumb get charged by a pair of screaming soldiers, one blinded and one ignited. "Get at'em, lad! Go, go!" With that Yurik quickly turned his attention back to the matter at hand, namely igniting Severan soldiers with his brain while laughing like a scrunt possessed. Sickly colored sparks popped and fizzed from the loose wires lacing his thinkin' cap as he reached out with his mind to harness the raw power of the Warp. This time the Warp reached back. *** Second verse, same as the first. Yurik is going to half action move, then wait until after Drekk and Grumb have had a go at the two Severans remaining from Team 2. Then after they've gone, Yurik will once again use Spontaneous Combustion at Unfettered, prioritizing whoever is nearest death and/or not currently on fire in case of a tie. TN is same as before, 80, and it's still a dodgeable attack doing 1d10+6 pen 0 damage with the Flame quality. And I roll a 66. Which means I rolled doubles. Which means that while this is a successful power activation garnering 2 DoS it also means I trigger a psychic phenomena roll. Now I COULD spend a fate point to reroll this...but nahhhhhh. Then I roll a 93. Hahahaha nope, I WILL fate point that. Yurik has spent one fate point and is now down to 1 remaining. And I roll an 82. gently caress damnit, this is going to be one of those stories where the psyker turns into a daemon and TPKs everyone. Siiiiigh, well I can't fate point the same roll a second time so now I get to roll on PERILS OF THE WARP oh boy. I roll a 57 on the Perils table. Checking against it, the entry is Vice Versa. I'm just going to quote this here in its full glory. "The psyker’s mind is thrown out of his body and into another nearby creature or person. The psyker and a random being (note, this cannot be a daemon, mindless xenos, or other “soulless” creature) within 50 metres swap consciousness for 1d10 rounds. This may be an ally or enemy. Each creature retains its Weapon Skill, Ballistic Skill, Intelligence, Perception, Willpower, and Fellowship during the swap, but all other Characteristics are of the new host body. If either body is slain, the effect ends immediately and both parties return to their original bodies. Both suffer 1d5 Intelligence damage from the experience. If there are no creatures within range, the psyker becomes catatonic for 1d5 rounds while his mind wanders the Warp. This journey causes 1d10 Willpower Damage, 1d10 Intelligence Damage and 1d10 Corruption Points."  IT'S HAPPENING
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Jul 19, 2015 07:46
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Drekk The Farm, currently under attack Drekk has sobered up nicely by now, knowing why the Severans are attacking the farm. He hears screaming from the kitchen, and he charges like an angry ball of scrunty fury, quickly singling out the blinded Severan trooper. --- His Weapon Skill is 46 | [20+ 5 (CQ specialist) + 16 +5] plus another 10 from the Ordinary Weapon Skill test, with a total of 56, I rolled a 14. (Holey moley!) EDIT: According to the locational damage rules, I got a 14, I reverse that and get a 41, so Drekk hits the body. Correct me if I'm wrong. EDIT EDIT: Forget the above, since Drekk is not close (yet) and the blinded Severan is 12 meters away, I'm going to do a Charge (+0 Challenging Agility Test) action for this round. I rolled a 37, Drekk currently has 54 Agility, so I'm guessing that'll work. Oh and I think Drekk currently has Bulge's Knife equipped if that helps. Kaiju Cage Match fucked around with this message at 00:54 on Jul 22, 2015 |
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Jul 19, 2015 13:19
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KCM remember your scrunt is currently represented by Hitler so you're 4 squares or 12 metres away from Drop Team Two, i.e. out of melee range. Standard attacks are just done against dudes next to you. That's fine, though, you can Charge in instead, which is a Full Action that moves you and gives you a bonus to hit, and you've only taken a Half Action so far. You get two Halves or one Full per round, plus a dodge/parry attempt if you get attacked. Combat actions are on p243+ of the main rulebook. Any questions, stick 'em in the recruitment thread. Also at the moment you've not been given your scrunt loot so you're just equipped with your standard regimental kit, but at present going by your charsheet you're just swinging with a Dark Heresy sword. Lemme know some vague indications of what sort of kit you want in the recruitment thread (you've already got a carapace helm so you get two more things on top of that), we'll work out a signature weapon (you can treat Bulge's knife as your regimental close combat weapon - i.e. a sword with bonus armour penetration - or you can give it some better stats and have it count as a loot drop), and then you can edit the weapon stuff into your post
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Jul 19, 2015 14:29
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:KCM remember your scrunt is currently represented by Hitler so you're 4 squares or 12 metres away from Drop Team Two, i.e. out of melee range. Standard attacks are just done against dudes next to you. That's fine, though, you can Charge in instead, which is a Full Action that moves you and gives you a bonus to hit, and you've only taken a Half Action so far. You get two Halves or one Full per round, plus a dodge/parry attempt if you get attacked. Combat actions are on p243+ of the main rulebook. Any questions, stick 'em in the recruitment thread. I see, I might use Charge instead for the round. As for loot, we'll have Bulge's Knife count as a loot drop (would making it a mono weapon work?). I can work out the other loot drop later (arm armor?) If this is good, I'll edit my post accordingly. Kaiju Cage Match fucked around with this message at 15:11 on Jul 19, 2015 |
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Jul 19, 2015 15:05
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Grumb Slanger, the dormitories Grumb smirks with satisfaction as the troopers smash through the window and bowl over his barrier, recalling one of the many lessons Groin Sklunger taught him long ago. And that's why you always crouch behind the tables. Seeing that the troopers are distracted, he begins to shuffle toward the staircase in an attempt to disengage from the sprawling duo. It is at this moment that his cousin Barry, in a panic, decides to unload a volley of stubber fire into the backs of the two scrambling drop troops. "BBWWUAAAAAAAAUUUGHH!" Barry yells, enjoying the hell out of himself. ---------------------------- Grumb shuffles a square or two northward, trying to get away without being noticed. Barry fires a full-auto burst from Betsy. I don't know what his BS is, but he's firing from Point Blank so that should be +30 to the roll. I would rather you make this roll, as Barry is effectively outside Grumb's narrative control right now and it's more fun if I'm surprised. I assume that firing an autocannon into melee with a friendly scrunt is A Bad Thing, so Grumb's going to draw his ScruntKnife with his other action.
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Jul 20, 2015 05:46
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Murdelia Skurvy Fightin' Murdelia howls in scruntious rage as the enemy advance past her wild shots. Pulling the trigger as fast as she can, the hosed-up tiny laser's barrel starts to glow a dull red and an acrid burning stench begins to emanate from it, almost masking the scrench (scrunt stench). Arnika cheers her on, banging an empty oil drum with a wrench while lighting an Age of Sigmor miniature on fire. ___________________________________________________ Firing the Scrunt Surgical Laser at an unfortunate Team One member on Semi-Auto, Aim half-action and Arnika assisting aim. Shooting Team One again: 1d100 5 
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Jul 20, 2015 06:02
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Grimply, on a cool tin roof Explosions and screams are music to Grimply's gnarly ears, and he's pretty sure the Scruntfather also smiles upon them since they're killing more stinking humies. So win-win for everyone. Except for the humies, but fack them anyway. Grimply was a little surprised when his last shot didn't result in an exploding humie, but in a bright flash of light and some confused humies. He told Flet loud and clear to load "tha big one's" into the big rifle. Of course he meant the big slugs with the pointy and sharp tip that almost destroyed a humie jeep during the ambush. But apparently Flet didn't see it like that and must have grabbed the wrong bullet! Grimply's a little too busy to yell at Flet proper, so he has to be content with a fuming look, and another loud and clear order to "Load tha fackin' big an' pointy bullets yer idjit!!" While Flet apologizes and gets to his task, Grimply peeks over the edge of the roof. He sees a dead humie, which is good, but no trace of the other two, which is bad. But the commotion downstairs gives him the suspicion that they may have ran inside. Didn't Grumb set up down there? Yeah, that dumb facker should be able to handle it. And if not...win-win for everyone. Except for Grumb, but fack him anyway. A loud bang from the other end of the farm catches Grimply's attention. It sounds mechanical and pretty mean. He centers his scope towards the far gate, but the darkness makes it almost impossible to gather what's making those noises. Well, there are still plenty of humies around, and their gross necks betray their shapes in the darkness. So for the time being, Grimply just shoots at one of them! --------------------------------------------- I order Flet to load the big rifle with a Penetrator round, which takes his whole turn. And since I'm so low in the order, my shot is kinda tricky. I'll either shoot at a random member of Drop Team One if I still have a line on them, and if not I'll go for a shot on the rest of Squad One. Half action to aim, half action to shoot with overload 20 vs 75 (45 + 10(aim) +10(single) +10(short range) +10 (red dot) +10(accurate) -20(darkness)) 16+5 E damage "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 36 / full round reload / Accurate, Reliable(Unreliable with overload), Felling (1)) "Tha big one" Longshot Sniper Rifle (350m / s/-/- / [damage by ammo type] / [pen by ammo type] / clip 1 / rld full / Accurate) GM reminder that I'm very small and have a camo cloak Tin Tim fucked around with this message at 21:45 on Jul 21, 2015 |
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Jul 21, 2015 21:41
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Gumbo Bulge, beyond the barricades Gumbo laughs as the humans pour through the gate and are immediately hammered by scruntfire. He pats Pirk on the back and the younger Scrunt holds up his chainsword with a question on his face. He shakes his head and mumbles "not close enuf ye'. Soon. "Nice shootin boys!" he yells. "Keep it up, them fuckers dunno what hit em!" Militia to (hopefully) concentrate fire on squad two. Get them! order (43 FEL +10 COM = 53). Pirk to Ranged Volley. Half action aim and standard laspistol attack at squad three. (30 BS + 10 Aim + 10 Std Atk + 5 Pirk = 55)
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Jul 22, 2015 07:28
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Recriminations The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pouOAOp_8r4 Murdelia makes up for her earlier ineptitude by sending a neat cluster of whistling, sparking lasbolts towards the first drop team. She misjudges slightly, and due to the darkness misses the lead trooper by millimeters. The second shot splats into the side of the shed, dissipating harmlessly on the wet surface, but the third strikes the unfortunate Severan square in the testicles. The armour takes most of the impact, but enough of the strange coruscating scrunty energies discharge into the trooper's gonads to make a difference. Spindly strands of power course through the man's flesh, disrupting his nervous system and causing further damage should he move much. Arnika yees faintly in triumph, huffing the burning resinous fumes of the strangely-armoured miniature she is destroying. Kreb presses himself down into the mud, gibbering to himself, claws fumbling for his autopistol. He's way out in the open, and his urge to kill himself is getting stronger. Rabid scrunts pour into the workshop as Mung realises there are humans behind him! Humans that want to take his nuke away! They grasp and clutch for their radios, their... metal boxes... Mung will... take away... their metal boxes! There's no space to turn in the workshop and there's gibbering scrunts getting in the way everywhere, so the technoscrunt jams the Chimera into reverse, revs the engine until the clutch is cherry-red, and slams the APC through the wall in the rough direction of Drop Team Three. Scrunts splatter against the hull as the Chimera slams straight through the flimsy workshop wall; breeze blocks and corrugated iron scythe through the air towards the terrified Severans. The furthest soldier from the breach manages to dive out of the way, but the closest two take the full brunt of the impact, and are sent flying. The collision would have been bad enough, but their subsequent trip through the air can only have one outcome. They splash to the ground in a sodden pile of broken bones, shattered armour, and viscera. Drop Team One, relatively unscathed from the scrunty onslaught, comport themselves with relative calm, aiming and firing with precision (although flinching at the sound of the Chimera slamming through the workshop wall). They don't seem particularly bothered by the darkness; perhaps their visors have something to do with this. The wounded trooper turns some sort of full-auto laser weapon on Murdelia, gritting his teeth in pain as the surgical laser's strange energy courses through his nether regions. The sudden pain appears to have thrown his aim, along with the fact that Murdelia's synskin suit means she's not showing up on his sights; only a couple of shots strike home, one thudding into the barricade inches from Arnika's head, and one thudding into Murdelia's left shoulder, inches from her jugular. The suit seems to take most of the blast, though. The other two troopers have heard the tell-tale report of a high-caliber sniper rifle, but Grimply's grimpsuit means they can't quite make him out. They can see Flet, though, and they rake the rooftop with full-auto lasfire in an attempt to flush out any snipers. Their blindfire comes dangerously close to doing damage - Grimply snaps back behind his chimney a second before a lasbolt would have taken him in the chest - and the scruntling and his companion cower as death rakes back and forth over the rooftop. Squad One go to ground at the base of the tower, taking cover in bushes and aiming their flashlights up at Groin. The operator is lit up like a Christmas tree! Drekk realises that there's a fight going on, and, preening his tiny moustache, barrels into the helpless, flaming, blinded drop troopers currently attempting to interfere with Grumb. Drekk swings his massively outsized weapon in a high arc towards the blinded trooper; sesnsing this, the man raises his arm to fend off the attack, only to have about ten kilos of mono-edged steel chop into his forearm. He's lucky not to be waving a stump, but he screams anyway. No pleasing some people. Yurik scuttles, and waits... Grumb deftly rolls away from the melee and draws his knife in one awkward, stumbling motion, as Barry's face lights up with glee. The gunner's companion attempts to heft the machinegun, settles for just bracing it on the ground, pulls the trigger, and yees with terror as the ammunition cooks off, all at once. Bullets whizz and pang like terrifying metal hornets as the magazine explodes, but miraculously no-one is hurt. Whatever the loving idiot did to the gun on the way here, it hasn't enjoyed it, but at least there's no permanent damage. Rolling his eyes, Yurik unleashes the power of his mind. There is a deafening, momentary VWOOOOIIPP inside the psyscrunt's head. Yurik blinks with astonishment. He feels strong! Really strong! He feels tall! Really tall! He's armoured! He's awesome! He's also on fire. The scrunt-in-human-form shrieks as he feels the flames gnawing through his armour, and a voice in his ear is screaming for an update. Even in the midst of his disorientation and terror some degree of Severan military jargon remains present in his indoctrinated mind, and Yurik recognizes the urgent shouts of BEHEMOTH LOOSE as something to do with uncategorized combat walkers. He's got other things on his mind, though. Gumbo is enjoying this; there's explosions, flames, and lots to see and do. This time he is able to make himself heard above the din of combat, and the scrunts rally to him when it comes to putting some effort in and actually doing some damage. In terms of taking direction on who to attack, though, the militia seem to take his orders as general suggestions that they might get round to at some point. They refuse to shoot at the humans lurking just outside the gate, and instead seem more concerned with firing at the only humans to so far actually do any damage. Drop Team One cower under the hail of fire; they take no damage, but they're unwilling to poke their heads out and fight. Scowling, the scrunteant picks off one of the troopers lurking in the bushes under Groin's tower. Groin himself cowers and yees at the top of his lookout post. All that can be seen of him is a bionic arm poking over the parapet, making obscene gestures. The remaining trooper from Drop Team Three picks himself up and grimly lunges for the vehicle that pancaked his comrades. Instead of a radio, he has now come up with a krak grenade; slamming it onto base of the Chimera's turret, the magnetic plates lock into place. The anti-grenade mesh cannot save the tank from the full blast of the explosion; there is a grinding klank and the multilaser locks in place. Grimply yees and mutters to himself as lasbolts turn bricks to cinders around him. Flet struggles to reload the big rifle, and it is all the sniper can do to turn an unsuspecting member of Squad One to ashes. The hail of fire abates, and Grimply dimly makes out the scrunt militia pouring fire into the troublesome drop squad. Go militia! Yurik's body screams to itself in absolute horror as he realises what he has become. The human occupying it isn't on fire any more, but this is somehow worse. Squad Two charge through the gate, flicking on flashlights. They take a flanking position against the southern wall of the farmhouse. With little to no sense of self-preservation, the rampaging Scruntmobs veer wildly around the battlefield. The first scruntmob spill out of the workshop, screaming FECK and SCRUNT at the tops of their lungs with various degrees of urgency. Happily, the second scruntmob go barrelling straight into Drop Team One, burying the troopers in a tidal wave of shrieking feculence. Squad Three can only aim their flashlights at the mound of scrunts in disbelief. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The booming and clanging coming from the medical van stops abruptly. The doors fly open. And in he comes. Tin Tim posted:With this, Grimply waddles off towards the chimera, and leaves behind a scared and slightly overwhelmed Flet. Flet has killed humies before, but it always was with a gun, and never this close. He hastily looks around, and taps on his pockets, but realizes that his weapon is back at the chimera, with Grimply's and his other stuff. The only thing he has on him, is the holy book that Grimply let him hold today. And so, the last thing that Sergeant Frank Hardchest sees, are the stained pages of a worn book that get shoved into his face. He trashes around as he suddenly can't breathe anymore, but is much too weakened to free himself. And then everything goes black for him. DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:The corpses of the unlucky PDF squad have vanished, presumably into the large makeshift stew pot bubbling away over a vile, smoky fire, and a good deal of the scrunts now wear scraps of PDF clothing. Sgt Hardchest's body is nowhere to be seen, either. There's a few scrunt corpses dotted around to the west, which would normally be cause for concern if it were any other species currently occupying this area. DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:Debate raged for half a day, until a missive from a medical outpost near the site in question was received. Apparently they had a wounded soldier who was able to shed some light on the situation... DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:Better hope that heavy squad's worth their reputation, and that the thing in the truck can keep it together. Weird that he insisted on coming along, though. Stamping on pneumatic legs, flexing pneumatic claws, twin searchlights piercing the gloom, the altered form of Sgt Frank Hardchest returns to battle. ###THE LITTLE ONE###, he booms from voxcasters mounted in his chest, as he approximates a run. ###FIND ME THE LITTLE ONE###. Emperor knows where the Severans dug up this kind of experimental heretek from, but apparently they're desperate enough for materiel that they welded a near-death war hero into this metal obscenity. It totters and stamps, gases hissing from ruptures in its pipes, exposed cabling leading directly into Hardchest's body. It appears a strange mixture of extreme high-tech and desperate patch jobs, and there is no way its original creators intended for a device of this nature to wield banks of heavy stubbers. The exposed head is kind of a giveaway that this is a device nowhere near military spec, but it's big, it's angry, and it's heavily armed.  HERE is the MAP  WHERE do you wish to GO ----- scrunnt if you're driving poo poo can you please link to the stats for the thing you're driving otherwise i will be lazy and forget about its bonus modifications Murdelia hits twice; one shot is soaked by cover, the other does limited damage to the leg, and Cripples the lead drop trooper of team 1. You know that as a laser Basic weapon your hosed-up tiny laser can use the Variable Settings rule, right? Shout if I've said the opposite in the past though. Kreb sits through strike two. Mung reverses through a wall, doing 16 + 1d10 damage to two of the three drop troopers and several members of Scruntmob 1. They're basically sent flying 20-ish metres away, and because there is no way on earth you can persuade me that they don't take damage from this, they take a 5m fall on top of the ram. Which kills them. The third trooper abides. Team One fire at people. The wounded trooper realises he's crippled by doing a full action this round; he'll probably exhibit some self preservation in subsequent rounds. One of his shots would have hit Arnika thanks to rolling a double, but barricade soaks. The other strikes Murdelia in the arm for 3 damage after soak. The other two guys do suppressing fire in Grimply's general direction. Sucks to be you, dude; suppressing fire doesn't care how hard you are to hit, or at what range you are. They didn't do any damage, but Grimply is now pinned Squad One illuminate Groin. wellcume 2 sniperzone Drekk had it right the first time, you're rolling against WS so I took your first dice roll and just applied the appropriate modifiers to it. 1d10 + 7 damage, razor sharp triggers due to more than 3DoS on attack, you almost completely negate the dude's armour and chop him straight into critical territory. Further damage will give the blinded Severan critical damage. Yurik waits... Barry rolls 96 on his full-auto test. Thanks, Barry. Tharry. Betsy is jammed. Yurik has his psy-attack dodged, inexplicably. He becomes the guy he's just set on fire. Gumbo kills a dude again. The militia suppress Drop Team One. No respect for authority. Team Three slams a krak bomb on the Chimera. It righteous furies, as it has a 40% chance of doing (  ), does 2 points of structural damage, and locks the Multilaser facing directly forward. It can now only fire directly forward, related to the vehicle's facing.Grimply is suppressed. He can't aim and fire in one round any more, so I figured you'd want a chance to do some actual damage rather than a chance to have a shot plink off Drop Team One's armour. Squad 1 takes a casualty; at the end of Grimply's round, the un-pinning test happened. You're in cover, meaning you get the +30 bonus. Grimply is no longer pinned. Flet has not reloaded the Longshot Squad Two is flanking farmhouse-dwellers. You're all out of cover with respect to them. The scruntmobs... jesus loving christ. Just... for fucks sake. Drop Team One is in melee with a horde of scrunts but miraculously they didn't even loving connect with any attacks. They had to get less than like 90 to hit someone. The drop squad also escapes Pinning, by virtue of being in melee. Sgt Hardchest is back! Don't send a comrade to do a scrunt's job, eh! He's got claws (not power claws!), heavy stubbers, and searchlights. He's actually a lot more of a soft target than he looks, and he's not a real dreadnought; however, if you're toting small arms, you're going to need to hit him in the head or in the exposed bits, which is a called shot. You can assist other scrunts by lighting him up or luring him near flames/buildings
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Jul 22, 2015 22:30
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