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Drekk The Farm Malbrathia-3 --- Drekk barreled at the poor, blind Severan like a scrunty wrecking ball. The blinded Severan raised his arms to cover his face, but he got a nasty gash. At this point the blinded might be entering shock from his injuries and will be in a critical state. Drekk foists his sword over his shoulder, readying it for another strike and lets out a mighty "FACK OFF!" and other scrunty swears, potentially ending his target's life. --- Now that Drekk is properly in melee, I'm going to do a Standard Attack on the blinded Severan. Drekk's Weapon Skill is 46, and if I remember correctly the Ordinary Weapon Skill test adds 10 so that's 56 total, I rolled a 1 (HOLY poo poo) and since the blind Severan is in a critical state, I don't think he'll make it. As per usual, correct me if I'm wrong but I think I'm getting the hang of it now. Kaiju Cage Match fucked around with this message at 00:22 on Jul 23, 2015 |
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Jul 22, 2015 23:57
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I am an idiot who just deleted a game post completely by accident.
DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 23:01 on Aug 31, 2015 |
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Jul 24, 2015 02:20
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Grumb Slanger, the dormitories Grumb peeks out from behind his fingers, briefly scared out of his wits that his cousin's ineptitude truly had finally been the death of him - but he finds himself unharmed. "Aw poo poo, poo poo Grumb! 'M sorry, Grumb! Aw poo poo!" Barry yelps pleadingly. "Dangol', shaddaup an' fixit a'eady!" Grumb barks back. He turns his attention back to the intruding hu-mos, to find that a feisty newcomer had joined the fracas! Grumb is impressed by this scrunt's brutal efficiency. Dat beefy lug's a real whiz wif 's knife, Grumb thinks to himself, and he is inspired to join the melee! He scrambles to his feet and charges at the burning trooper, enthusiastically thrusting his combat knife into the son-of-a-bitch. ------------------------------------------ Grumb is going to unwittingly help Yurik in the only way he would ever deign to - BYY KILLINGG HIMM. Charge is WS + 0, if I am reading that correctly, so I'm rolling vs 32. I rolled a 41, so it seems like Yurik might have to stay a little longer. UNLESS, of course, that my proximity to Drekk triggers both of our Double Team talents, in which case i have succeeded! I don't seem to have damage listed for my knife so i'll let you roll that for me. Orders to Barry to fix the jam. Or can that not be done in a round?
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Jul 24, 2015 21:48
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Groin Sklunger The Farm, The Guard Tower Groin continues weakly yeeing and cowering atop the guard tower, while his robo-arm gesticulates erratically; the sound of lasgun fire blasting his hiding place fills his ears. It sounds like "PEW PEW PEW! TING PWANG!". Jekk cuddles up next to him like a baby opossum clinging to it's mother. Fear begins to overtake him, and he contemplates leaping from the tower; until he hears an enormous "CRASH!" and the sound of a familiar vehicle crunching through a familiar sounding flimsy wall. He peeks over his cover just in time to watch the Scruntmera plowing over bodies and debris, and it fills his tiny hosed up disgusting heart with what passes for heroism among Scrunts. "Fuuuuuuuuck YEEEEEEEEE!" he screams as he stands up and pulls out his scruknife (scrunt knife). Without a thought for his well being, he turns toward the hummies below him, grabs Jekk by the collar, and leaps off the tower at them. "EAT MAH gently caress!" he yells. _______________ Free action to draw knife, Full Action to Charge off the tower toward the humans below! Attacking with knife in one hand, hosed up bionic arm in the other. Charging off the tower!: 1d100 = 38 +20 from Charge = 18 Jekk is doing Close-order Drill to help me in combat.
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Jul 26, 2015 19:14
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Murdelia Skurvy Fightin' HOLY FACK!" Murdelia fackulates as Hardchestbot bursts into the scene. "Oi had this set on 'Regular!' th' 'ole time!". She quickly fiddles with it and sets it to 'MAX POWER'. "Now watch this, Arnika" Murdelia grunts, gesturing carelessly into the tangle of scrunts and men and firing a single, improbable shot. ___________________________________________________ Firing the Scrunt Surgical Laser at an unfortunate Team One member with an Overload mode Standard Shot, Arnika assisting aim, then half-move one or two squares southwest behind that solid looking cover, away from the angry looking cyborg. Overload Standard shot on Team One: 1d100 2 If that doesn't hit due to the press of the horde then it definitely cored out a scrunt.
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Jul 27, 2015 15:38
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Grimply, on a suddenly very hot tin roof - Now sending: The curious works of the Adeptus Mechanicus - Part XXVII - Purge the Heretic and be pure - - Access files? - - Please insert access code - - Access granted to Inquisitori Majoris Alpha - "Deep inside the great library of the Adeptus Mechanicus, past the walls of ancient tomes and data slates, lies a single dusty tome that was never touched again after it was placed there. The reason is simple, because nobody ever wanted to read it after it was written, safe for the Adept that was tasked to compile this report. The Liber Homo Sapiens Revoltus, is the only known imperial literature that describes the curious meta-human race known as Scrunts. It was written by Jeremiah Schlongicus, as his master thesis before graduating to Magus Biologis. His colleagues always laughed and belittled him for investigating a race that could hardly be called meta-human, when they were so close to general vermin. But all the good topics had already been taken, so Jeremiah set out to a known Scrunt colony and started his work. He returned to the Adeptus Mechanicus roughly a year later, and delivered his writings. His thesis was deemed adequate, despite it being increasingly more confusing towards the end. Some pages were even stained with unknown biological fluids and almost unreadable, but his superiors took pity on Jeremiah after they saw in what state he returned to them. However, Jeremiah couldn't enjoy his new position for very long, because he died from space AIDS and insanity shortly after graduating. If one were to read the Liber Homo Sapiens Revoltus, one could surely learn many interesting and disgusting facts about the Scrunts. One of the most interesting facts is that Scrunts actually share a lot of traits with rodent type creatures from all across the galaxy. Such traits as being small, loving trash of all kinds, hiding in dark holes, or farting while under stress for instance. But curiously enough, they also share the instict to try to burrow into the ground when faced with extreme danger. A not very successful evolutionary strategy, but it still remains for unknown reasons. One could surely find out much more about the relation between rodents and Scrunts, but nobody is strange or insane enough to voluntarily research or read about Scrunts. And so, this mystery will stay a mystery in the foreseeable future. A such th..." - Connection violently terminated - Praise the Emperor - Grimply throws himself on the ground when a shower of laser beams rakes over the roof, and desperately tries to dig himself a hole. He quickly realizes that his stubby hands will not achieve anything on a solid concrete roof, so he just stays down and tries to not panic even further as a stray beam burns through the tip of his cloak. Flet has curled up into a small ball, and is constantly farting between desperate Yees while rocking back and forth. The fusillade of shining light seems to go on for an eternity, but eventually it lets up, and trickles down to lone beams and stray shots. Both scrunts are in a state of high panic, but their instincts prevent them from getting up and running. Which turns out to actually be a good thing, in this specific situation. Grimply clutches his tattered book tightly, and tries to mutter a prayer to the Father. But in his state of panic, it turns into gibberish and Yees. Still, he seems to have reached the Father as a familar voice rings in his head.... "Grimply. Fear not." It vanishes as quickly as it came, but Grimply actually collects himself and gets a grip on the situation. "Fackin' shite!", he yells to the world at large. He stays on the ground, but wiggles his way over to Flet, who is still farting and Yeeing, and tries to calm the little ball of Scrunt. "It's allright, lad. Shhh. It's ALLRIGHT! We's still livin and tha Fatha is watching, right?" Flet's peeks at Grimply from behind his hands, and replies with a careful "Yee?" "That's me lad! That's me good lad..Now...ehr...yer jus stay 'ere, right? Git tha rifle loaded an rememer ta take tha big an sharp bullets this time, right?!" Flet hesitates for a moment, but then nods as Grimply's confidence sparks over to him. Grimply on the other hand, wiggles his way towards the edge of the roof to get a look at what's going on. The maelstrom of battle surrounds him, so it's hard to pick out any details in the darkness. However, just as he slightly raises his head and the Scruntnocular over the roof, a big crash happens on the other side of the farm, and a hulking metal beast stomps into view. Grimply's brain is again flooded with a rush of fear, but also the slight notion that this metal beast is somehow familar to him. He can't follow that thought though, as fear is the more pressing concern right now. "I NEED THA BIG RIFLE I NEED IT NOW FACK!!!!!" --------------------------------------------- I again order Flet to load the big rifle with a Penetrator round, which takes his whole turn. Then I use a half action to switch to the big rifle, while I use my other half action to quietly Yee in fear "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 00:33 on Jul 29, 2015 |
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Jul 29, 2015 00:18
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Gumbo Bulge, movin forwards Gumbo is gratified to hit again - feels like he's starting to get the hang of this laspistol - but it doesn't feel right to be hanging back, taking potshots. A sergeant ought to lead from the front, he imagines. His chainsword itches at his side. In the back of his head iron grinds quietly. He peers into the distance. There's something over there, on the edge of the light, his tiny eyes can't make out much detail but it certainly sounds dangerous. "Ah, this ain enuff. Sick o firin this zapper from behin' a wall" he grumbles. "Come on lad, less get us a look at that stompy fella." "HOLD POSITION!" he yells at the militia, then throws in an encouragement for the he'll of it: "LIGHT THEM FUCKERS UP!!" Then he turns to his assistant. "Come on lad, less get us a look at that stompy fella." Pirk squawks in alarm as Gumbo throws himself over the barricade and runs off into the dark. Get them! order (43 FEL +10 COM = 53). Full run to (hopefully) take cover at Murdelia's location (mostly moving in the dark to avoid fire if possible). I hope this is close enough by, not sure how big the squares are. AGI bonus is 3.
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Jul 29, 2015 09:17
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Yurik Scraglagger...? The Siege Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Yurik was accustomed to the occasional "mishap" whenever he used his brain powers a bit too hard, but this was a new one on him. Fortunately his razor-sharp intellect allowed him to quickly piece things together and ascertain that he was ON FIRE. Also he had apparently swapped bodies with someone. So this was what it was to be a humie, then. Revolting, yet at the same time intriguing. The height alone was a thing of wonder, but more to the point he was ON FIRE. He had to admit that as awkward as it was trying to come to terms with a body that was, by scrunt standards, grossly disproportionate the opportunity he had been afforded here was a unique one, and also he was ON FIRE. Of course he had no time to try and explain things to the other scrunts...as far as they could tell he was simply another humie who was ON FIRE, and by the time he managed to convince them that it was really him inside this body there was no telling what sort of trouble the humie currently occupying his body could get up to while he was ON FIRE. The thought of a humie running around looking like him was sickening, but fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how you looked at things) Yurik was ON FIRE. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!," Yurik said as the other scrunts turned their attention towards his borrowed body. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" With that he began to chart a course towards the nearest cluster of humies as quickly as he could manage in the awkward, lurching stumble-run of someone unaccustomed to legs of this height, hands slapping his body all over as he sought out the most destructive ordnance he could hope to find by blindly groping himself while he was ON FIRE. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" *** Yurik will commit his entire Full Action to running away from Grumb and Drekk and towards Squad 2 in the most expedient and efficient manner possible. If that includes a window he can hurl himself from then even better. Agility bonus 3, no special talents related to running. Honestly if Grumb kills me then nbd.
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Jul 29, 2015 19:45
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Pernicious Kreb, Nuke Haze Finally, with the white specks cleared from his eyes and the metallic taste gone from his tongue, Pernicious Kreb starts awake from his radiation-induced bliss-coma. There's fighting going on. He doesn't know who and he doesn't know why. He grabs his hosed up tiny multi-laser and scrambles up on top of the oil drum he'd been laying behind. Hissing and yeeing at the top of his voice, he surveys the darkened battlefield, squinting at the figures lit by the flashes of lasfire. He swings up his gun and aims down the motion tracker sight intently, trying to pick out which of the combatants looks least like him. Unbeknownst to Kreb, his altered DNA is slowly fixing itself after the nuclear thrashing he'd given it. Somewhere, scratching in the back of his mind, the other voice, briefly silenced, draws breath to speak again. Kreb is doing a full action aim. If there's multiple turns of action going on, he's going to full auto burst at the nearest non-scrunt
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Aug 6, 2015 04:29
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Strobe The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mi-xOhMqrkg With admirable discipline, or sheer animal luck, Murdelia aims and fires a tremendously powerful blast of crackling energy over the heads of the thronging mass. Knee deep in the scrunts as they are, Drop Team One cannot make effective use of cover, nor do any of the idiot scrunts absorb the shot. Crippled with jagged static bursts, the previously-wounded trooper can't move fast enough when he spots Murdelia drawing a bead on him. The marrow in his arm explodes, flash-boiling in an instant and shattering his skeleton; it is indescribably painful, and he quickly loses consciousness, lasblaster skittering across the pavement as he collapses. Kreb snaps out of his suicidal haze, although some facet of him is aware that it could return again if he sinks into a similar torpor. Scowling, he brings his laser to bear on the enemy. Hardchest strides forward, kicking through scrunts like a child rushing through dried leaves. Roaring defiance, demanding that "the little one" show himself, his slaved heavy stubber batteries swivel and tilt seemingly autonomously, pouring fire into the barricade behind which Murdelia cowers. The scruntess is not actually the target of this attack; Hardchest is attempting to remove any useful cover through sheer weight of lead. A stray round does plow through the barricade and clock the medic on the head, but it zings off her helmet harmlessly. This is about the only good news, however, as the barricade collapses shortly afterwards, leaving Murdelia and Kreb lit up and in the open! Mung attempts to back slowly into the final member of Drop Team Three, who dodges with embarrassing ease. Unfortunately, this leaves the trooper wrong-footed for a moment, and he takes several frag micro-munitions full in the face as the technoscrunt activates the Frag Defender system. The trooper is nearly killed, only clinging tenuously onto live by virtue of his helmet; blood fills his eyes and ears, and he won't be able to see or hear until he shakes it loose. The Scruntauros is also within range, and rocks on its suspension as explosions tear through it, buckling axles and rending armour. Drop Team One are very very grateful for their fully-enclosed armour, mired in scrunts as they are. Clubbing their way through the herd with the butts of their rifles, they stumble closer to Murdelia and Kreb, but one of the troopers has his weapon wrestled from him by the gaggle as he forces his way through! Gasping and panting, they take up positions in the doorway of the north-westerly shed. Squad One can hear Groin stamping around above him, but they can't see him. They riddle the watchtower with lasbolts to no avail, although the operator is still illuminated. The Searchlights roam around, briefly shining at points of nearby interest, but swivel back to illuminate Murdelia, Kreb, and most of Scruntmob One Drekk spins around like a top, sword outstretched. The blinded Severan never sees it coming; the tip of the blade catches him just where the neck armour is weakest, and the severed head sails off in an arc. The body stamps around for a couple of seconds before toppling, gouting arterial blood all over his flaming comrade. It is not enough to douse the flames, but a rank sizzling arises. Yurik manages to master his pain and terror enough to at least point his new, tall body in what he considers to be the right direction. Muscle memory he doesn't understand or really control kicks in, and he confusedly finds himself holding some sort of grenade with a stencil of a sunburst. He also realises that he is sailing through the air, trailing broken glass, and blinks in shock as he finds himself surrounded by shouting angry men. Grumb lashes out at the fleeing Severan, catching the man a wicked smack on the head with his oversized combat knife and scrambling his already-mishmashed brains a little. As the gunner watches the trooper dive through the window, he goggles in shock as Grimply's booby trap detonates, sending shrapnel scything through the PDF troopers! The cunning little poo poo didn't plant it in the gateway after all, he covered his flank with it! Three of the troopers lie dead or dying once the dust fades, and that's good enough odds for Grumb. Leaving Barry fixing Betsy, Grumb charges through the ruined windowframe and runs the dazed, flaming drop trooper through! His intestines spill out; the man instinctively gathers them in, but is bleeding tremendously and will probably die within minutes without medical attention. Gumbo dashes as fast as his stumpy legs will carry him towards the beleaguered medic, although changes direction once he realises the cover he is dashing to no longer actually exists. He slams into the metal holding tank with a resounding BONNG, which inspires nearby scrunts into louder cries of SLAM and SECTOR. Groin knows what he likes, and massive bongs are one of those things. The slamming and the bright lights and the bonging all get him worked up to such an extent that he dives awkwardly out of the guard tower in an effort to introduce his ARM to the PDF's FACES. Yeeing defiantly, he plummets like a stone, shattering his unlucky target's head like a ripe melon. Jekk splats to the ground beside him, and the scrunts lie prone in the dirt like hogs, momentarily stunned. The blinded, deafened remaining member of Drop Team Three staggers around, attempting to regain use of his senses. He bounces off the shed wall and hobbles off slightly to the east. He remains in no fit state to use his radio. Flet finishes off loading the Longshot, just as Grimply snatches it desperately out of his hands. The sniper stows his smaller rifle, gibbering in fear and chewing his beard. Yurik's animated body, possessed by the mind of a horrified Severan drop trooper, reverts to the natural instinct to kill as many scrunts as possible. Awkwardly, Yurik's body drops the staff and psy focus, and brings its autogun to bear on the freshly-illuminated Scruntmob One. The gun barks and spits, and all nearby scrunts can see is the weird mumbly scrunt turning traitor and opening fire on them! Three civilian scrunts are slain. Knives, gun-butts and boots rain down on Grumb as Squad Two lashes out at him. Evading one wild slash, Grumb staggers into the swing of another trooper, which bounces harmlessly off his face. A bayonet jab is more effective, gouging a slight furrow out of his neck-hump. The scrunt recoils, bleeding and angry. In the absence of any orders, the Scrunt Milita look to their instincts. Their idiot, idiot instincts. They've just seen someone poke a gun out of the building to the west and open fire on a morass of friendly scrunts, so it stands to reason that gun belongs to a bad guy!! A storm of shells craters the windowframe which "Yurik" is peeking out of; an awful lot of lead strikes home. The body of the psycrunt emits a pained "Yeee!", only to immediately look extremely embarrassed. The scruntmobs stampede, as scruntmobs do. The first group blunders aimlessly into the middle of the road, away from the assault by the man wearing Yurik's body, and right into the path of the Hardchestnaught. The second group flees the large stampy metal man, and bumbles into the remaining troopers from Squad Three. In turn, the members of Squad Three attempt to fight their way out of the scruntmass, in a semblance of a tactical retreat. Unfortunately they are mired, and only succeed in bludgeoning a couple of scrunts to the ground. Hemmed in by braying idiots, the nerve of the troopers begins to crack. The distant snipers have been watching the unfolding melee with trepidation, but enough scrunts have been illuminated for long enough that target acquisition can happen. There are a handful of distant cracks, and a second or two later a few more members of Scruntmob One drop to the ground, twitching. A large slug pangs off the ground by Murdelia's feet, but the sudden disintegration of the barricade appears to have thrown the sniper's aim just enough to buy her some respite. Kreb is not so lucky, and takes a heavy slug right in the gut. Yeeing in fury, he plucks the spent round from his armour, but it still hurts like hell. Distressingly, a wild ricochet bounces off Groin's leg and flies straight into Jekk's thigh. The scruntling shrieks in pain. As if that wasn't bad enough, a distant rumbling seems to indicate that another Valkyrie's coming in close... ------  lightmap!  darkmap! imgur's currently being awful so i can't do the usual big pic/bigger link thing. ------- scrunnnnt we're back!! Murdelia finishes off the already wounded drop trooper; she didn't say who she was firing at so I rolled randomly. Kreb aims indiscriminately. This is not actually allowed; you need to pick a target to aim at. We will assume Kreb aimed at whoever he next shoots but don't do it next time. Also, as per like every permutation of the 40k RPG rulesets, if you move you forfeit your aiming bonus. And Kreb ain't in cover. Hardchest fires indiscriminately. Admittedly there's a lot of similarities here between an XCOM mec using Collateral Damage but that's not it at all. Nine shots hit the barricade and do enough damage to penetrate, each one reducing its cover AP by 1. I'm assuming the shots all hit at once rather than sequentially. Also Murdelia isn't the target, I basically jury-rigged this and said "ok she gets hit on doubles". No wounds, but the barricade's now gone. Mung does a really poo poo ram because you can't do them as half-actions. So he just did a half-move a couple metres to try and hit the drop trooper, giving the guy a bonus to dodge. He'd have done poo poo for damage if he'd hit, the idiot hellfucker. However he righteous furies with the frag defender, doing a frankly distressing 25 points of damage and knocking the third team member down into critical in one fell swoop. He is blind and deaf next round. This also means he does 11 damage to the side armour of the Tauros, dropping it into Heavy Damage status. It has 9 Structural Integrity left. Team One fail a Scrunty Terrain test by a ridiculous number of DoF, so I rule one of them gets their gun stolen by scrunts. They blunder into the shed, and the gunless guy quickdraws a pistol. Squad One can't shoot poo poo Drekk crits to the head; blind Severan dies quite comprehensively, as the critical hit tables only go up to 10. Yurik runs through a window and readies a grenade. psyche you DO have quickdraw. The fire does no damage but you do take a level of fatigue in your current body. Grumb gets a free attack against Yurik and does 9 damage, and follows it up with a righteous fury charge! Charge is +20WS, remember. So yeah, Yurik-man has double blood loss, is at Critical 7 on the body, and will basically die if any more damage happens to him. Gumbo pulls off a Get Them! and dashes to Murdelia's side. Maybe he's planning to put that toxic chainsword in Hardchest?? Groin dives off the tower, granting himself the Crushing Blow talent for one round and killing his PDF opponent. The remaining PDF trooper is understandably upset. Grimply stows longlas, wields longshot. "Yurik" full-autos at Scruntmob One. Three kills!! Go "Yurik"! Squad Two thwack Grumb twice, and cause three wounds in total after soak. They're a bit poo poo, tbh. The Scrunt Militia get, uh... seven degrees of success against Yurik. It would have been nine if he was lit up. Three of them hit areas not covered by cover, and Yurik's got no arm armour. Thankfully the scrunts rolled really badly, and only did 10 wounds in total over three shots to basically unarmoured, un-bonus-toughnessed areas. The dodge failed and Yurik can't use precognition because it's not him driving! Scruntmobs move, Squad Three tries to escape but fails. Scrunts who have been illuminated for two consecutive turns are attacked by snipers. They miss Murdelia, they hit Kreb for six damage after soak, and they miss Groin but hit Jekk. Jekk is now wounded; he cannot make the Run action, and if he is wounded again he dies. These are simple stub rifles, they're not Accurate, so don't worry about ludicrous amounts of Accurate damage. Just worry about getting SHOT IN THE FACE here's a sunbear. go scrunt.
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Aug 10, 2015 21:44
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Drekk The Farm Malbrathia-3 Drekk managed to finish off the blinded Severan with a nasty slice to the throat, cutting off his head. He awkwardly wipes the blood off his sword on the soldier's torso and looks around for a brief moment. "Oi! he yelled out, "WIDGET! Where the feck are ya!? You can come out now!. A small scrunt with a large backpack emerges from behind a turned over table, clutching a pot lid in one hand and a meat tenderizer mallet in the other. "Is the fighin' over yet? Widget asks, eager to loot to his heart's content. "Not quite yet." Drekk replies. He looks around and recalls what occurred during the fracas: A burly scrunt took out a knife and charged at the flaming trooper, and the flaming trooper freaked out and ran off. They should still be close, though. An explosion just went off, followed by grunts of pain and the sounds of combat. "THERE! Let's go! No time fer lollygaggin!" exclaimed Drekk. He pointed the direction and proceeds to back up a bit to get some optimal distance for charging. Once in motion, he makes his way to see several men beating on his new scrunt friend and the burning man about to ready a grenade. He must be doing a suicide attack! Drekk singles him out like a tiny hosed up wolf stalking an equally tiny hosed up deer and intends to stop the bomber and save Grumb! *** Drekk is going to do a Charge action on Yurik-man. Drekk has 46 WS and Charge adds +20, so that should be 66 WS total. I rolled an 89. (which should be 2 Degrees of Failure) It happens! Kaiju Cage Match fucked around with this message at 13:47 on Aug 11, 2015 |
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Aug 11, 2015 13:34
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Placeholder post goes here as I may not have time to scrunt before Tuesday. If I can't post properly by then I will continue to be an idiot hellfucker in my attempt to end this one persistent jerk who lived through my doom grenade. Full action ram attempt to try and run him down and / or smash him between my armor and the building and / or put him underneath my treads. I'm not picky. Technically I'm probably still shouting incoherent nonsense from the turn before.
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Aug 13, 2015 18:56
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Groin Sklunger The Dirt, The Farm Groin lies face first in the mucky muck. His face covered with a mixture of mud, poo poo, blood and brains from the unfortunate trooper he brained on the way down. Jekk whimpers close by in pain. _____ Stunned.
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Aug 13, 2015 19:06
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(I don't think you're actually stunned, I think that gif was a joke)
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Aug 13, 2015 19:09
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Grumb Slanger, outside the dormitory Grumb grunts and snorts instinctively as thick, dark blood begins to run down his shoulder. It has an acrid, corroded smell, with hints of waste and burnt garlic. He gnashes his teeth, being confronted by an assailant larger and more physically imposing than himself for the first time in ages. The smell of hot blood (and perhaps a little bit of experimental combat drug yet lingering in his system) sends his animal instincts into overdrive. He howls madly, lunging at the hu-mo and burying his combat knife deep into its bones. The panicked trooper lets out a little yelp as Grumb twists and yanks on the knife mercilessly. As the human's bright red blood begins to pour, Grumb's attention wanders to the eviscerated, burning trooper lying beneath him. His eyes widen. "G'NAAAADE!" Grumb shouts, scrambling backwards over the shattered window frame and diving for cover. ------------------------------------------ Standard attack against the trooper that just bayonetted Grumb. WS + 10 target 42. I roll a 2, and royally gently caress up this guy's day. Following that, a move action to back up into the dormitory where Barry and my guns await. I have a feeling I will be needed elsewhere soon. Ignite Memories fucked around with this message at 20:36 on Aug 13, 2015 |
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Aug 13, 2015 20:34
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Yurik Scraglagger...? The Siege Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Pain. Pain and fire and blood. These things comprised Yurik's entire world as he staggered to his feet, one hand clutching a grenade-shaped object and the other reflexively moving to his midsection as something wet and hot and slimy attempted to spill out of him. His guts, he distantly realized...he was holding in his guts. Yurik had experienced pain before, of course, the life of a Loremaster was far from an easy one, but this was far different from a split lip or bloody nose from fighting over valuable scrap or the humiliating cramps of being shoved into a locker. A deep, numbing chill sunk through his body that had little to do with the night air, and he realized with his vast and incomparable intellect that he was dying. No, not him. The humie whose body he was in. He had to keep reminding himself of that fact. Even as he intellectually knew that he would return to his own body upon this one's death, that he himself was in no danger of dying (unaware that this wasn't strictly true at the moment), the agony he was experiencing was so intense that it was difficult to remain detached about things. The humie was dying...but he wasn't dying fast enough. Set on fire, crashed through a window, disemboweled, and yet somehow the body clung tenaciously to life, mocking him with its resilience, denying him release from this long-limbed prison. It wasn't dead yet, but Yurik knew how to fix that. With a supreme effort of willpower he removed his hand from his abdomen, allowing the body's guts to spill forth in great bloody coils as he forced his thoughts past the pain, guiding alien muscles in a search for the familiar. He left bloody handprints across the humie's outfit as he slapped it clumsily, the body succumbing to its wounds surely but slowly, but after a brief moment's fumbling he found what he was looking for. Carefully, like threading a needle, he looped his finger through the grenade pin. The Severan troopers on the ground watched in horrified fascination as one of their own, guts spilling from his body and flesh burning like some nightmare vision made manifest, lifted the grenade high in the air with both hands as if it were an offering to some demented god. As the pain reached its crescendo a primal, atavistic urge welled up within him, his mouth opening and an inhuman bellow pushed its way up from the deepest, scruntiest depths of his psyche. "SLAM SECTOOOOORRRRRRR!" He pulled the pin. *** Half action to pull the pin on the mystery grenade, half action to die.
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Aug 16, 2015 05:46
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Grimply, on the roof of fear Gibbering and shaking aren't things that help a sniper do his job, but Grimply has little choice at the moment. Despite his love for the storm of battle, this particular storm is much too chaotic and complicated for his tiny scrunt brain. It's dark, there are lots of humies, scrunts are everywhere too, explosions, barrages of lasers and large caliber bullets, death and destruction on all sides. This is honestly a little too much for him, and his scrunt instincts still tell him to dig a nice hole and crawl into it. But in between the chaos in his head, there is still the familar voice of the Father, telling him to be strong and to protect his flock. Protect them from the hulking metal beast, to be specific. Grimply gathers all his courage, and tries to center his scope on the robot that currently spews bullets through the scrunt farm. But his shaking makes it next to impossible. He curses loudly, and then realizes that he needs some help. "F-fack! Flet, me lad!...Yer...yer needs ta 'old tha rifle with me...I..I can nay do it alone!!" Without waiting for further commands, Flet jumps into action. Which means that he literally jumps onto the barrel and clings to it like a tiny hosed up monkey. Grimply sighs and strains his arms as he turns the rifle on its side, to wedge Flet between the edge of the roof and the barrel. The little scrunt let's out a muffled yee, but actually makes for a very good emergency bipod. Then Grimply grabs the scruntnocular with one hand, gets his other hand on the trigger, and uses both scopes at once. Two eyes see more than one, after all. As he struggles to center both scopes on the screaming metal monster, their eyes lock for a split second....Those eyes.... "THE LITTLE ONE!!!!!!" Grimply yees and pulls the trigger.... --------------------------------------------- I order Flet to aim at Robochest which takes his whole turn Then I make a called shot at his dumb face 12 vs 95(45 + 20(aim) +10(single) +10(short range) +10(accurate)) drat, and here I was ready to blow all my fate points if needed 21+3 I damage "Tha big one" Longshot Sniper Rifle (350m / s/-/- / [damage by ammo type] / [pen by ammo type] / clip 1 / rld full / Accurate) Penetrator rounds: 1d10+3 I damage / pen 4 / Proven (4), Razor Sharp (double Pen on 3DoS or more attack) "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 36 / 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 21:07 on Aug 16, 2015 |
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Aug 16, 2015 21:02
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Groin Sklunger The Farm, The Floor Groin lifted his muck covered face out of the mud. He blinked for a moment, quickly realizing that he was not in fact stunned, injured or dead. He locked his eyes on the dumbfounded single remaining survivor of squad one. His robo-arm clenched tight as the rage began to return. _____ Full Action on All Out Attack: 1d100 = 60
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Aug 18, 2015 02:08
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Gumbo Bulge, outside the barn Gumbo skids into cover, enraged by what he has seen. A human, all covered in metal. Metal! "Tha was my gimmick!!" he screams. "I was tha iron Scrunt!" Nearby, Murdelia edges away from him. Pirk appears, having navigated his way over the barricade, lugging the chainsword with him. "Pirk!" he yells. "Sword!!" Alarmed, Pirk panics and flings the chainsword in Gumbo's direction. The sergeant steps from his cover, snatches it from the air, thumbs the tox injector and spins himself and the chainsword in the direction of the big metal human. "EAT IT YOU FUCKER!!" he screams, and starts running. Switch to chainsword (free action), :tox: injector, charge at hardchest. 45 + 20 (Charge) + 10 (Pirk) = 75 (or 85 if double team counts for comrade gang ups, I can't remember) Close Quarters order to Pirk, Get them order to all comrades in range 43 + 10 = 53.
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Aug 18, 2015 09:00
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Murdelia Skurvy Fightin' Faced with an enormous angry robot man thing spraying incredible amounts of fire at her, and what seemed to be a sniper, Murdelia grabs Arnika by the neck and charges away from the combat, seeking shelter in the warm, solid cover of the scruntshop where the vehicles were parked. Compared to what was happening out here, it had to be safer, right? ________________ Moving southwest to take cover on the inside of the workshop entrance. I think that's a full move? If it's actually a half move then take a shot at the last Severan inside.
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Aug 19, 2015 15:23
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Payload The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q64b3IbnAwM The Severan walker continues stamping forward as Murdelia beats a hasty tactical retreat into the bowels of the workshop. She's exposed from behind, which is never a safe bet when around scrunts, but currently the only things near the abandoned workshop are a near-dead droptrooper and Mung in a tank, so she feels it's a calculated risk. The other technoscrunts have gone to ground somewhere, or maybe form part of the rampaging scruntmobs. Kreb continues aiming ferociously, holding his rifle out, angled at his own head. He chitters, faintly. The tottering form of Frank Hardchest continues to storm towards the main farmhouse, heavy stubbers blazing away, raking the stonework. Chips of brick shower down from the first floor, but the gunfire doesn't appear to actually be aimed at anyone in particular. Instead, Hardchest's attention appears to be on his pneumatic claws, which he flexes menacingly as he accelerates, crashing into the mob of scrunts like a bowling ball into a dumpster full of medical waste. He rears back with a scrunt in each hand, machineguns chattering, as a seething mass of terrified scrunts roil and squelch around his feet. Mung's rats have by this point managed to overclock the hydraulics on the hatch at the back of the Chimera, and communicate as such with a few binary squeaks. Unceremoniously, the technoscrunt slams it down on the drop trooper that has been tormenting him, squashing the human into an unrecognizable chunky mass. The scrunt has an unaccountable desire for nachos. Drop Team One is now down to one and a half guns. They've still got a hard-on for Grimply, probably because he's the one with the biggest gun that they can see, and Grumb's currently out of sight; the troopers aim and fire, desperation evident in their movements. Lasbolts from the longarm blatter and scrim into the tiles around the sniper, but none strike home; however, he hears the telltale bipartite report of a bolt pistol, and ducks an instant before a bolt shell would have taken his face off; it detonates harmlessly in the brickwork. A chunk of dislodged chimney falls onto Flet, who yees faintly. The remaining Squad One member strikes at Groin, but is distracted at a vital moment by the operator's fizzing, sparking eye blasting another jet of energy past the man's shoulder. He swings wide. The Dreadnaught Searchlights whirl around as before, until with a sudden earsplitting bellow of ++THE LITTLE ONE++ they lock forward in place. Grimply's been spotted; the militia are lit up, too. Drekk heroically charges a dying man; when questioned later, he may say something about trying to prevent the grenade going off. Or he may tell the truth and explain he wanted a new skull. At the moment, it doesn't matter - he misses comprehensively, although not badly enough to wedge his weapon in the ground. Yurik, bleeding, dying, wearing flesh that is not his own, takes the only action he can to end his own suffering. He pulls the pin and clutches the grenade to his chest. Unfortunately, he's holding an Iron Eater grenade; a measure of super-concentrated acid designed to eat through metal, held in place by weak gravitational generators. The detonation is not a cleansing, instant, incinerating affair; it is a gruesome, grubby, bubbling death. Both of his scrunty allies manage to hurl themselves through the window in time to avoid the blast; none of the PDF troopers manage the same. It is scant consolation to the psyscrunt that three more humans meet a similar fate to himself. Yurik snaps howling through the warp for an eternal instant, back to his own bullet-riddled body clutching a still-hot assault rifle. He can still feel the howling of the scoured nerves he's left behind, the fallout of the drop trooper's psyche attempting to rush back to a body that can no longer support thought, and the frenzy of the predators that gathered once the echoes of the Severan found they had no home to go to. It is not something that he'll forget in a hurry. In the meantime, Grumb reaches up from behind his makeshift shelter and casually shatters the arm of the sole remaining PDF trooper with an overhead swipe. He grins, vacantly, and ambles back to the north, still without line of sight on Hardchest. Gumbo finds the Dreadnaught up close and personal, slightly before he is prepared to deal with it. He doesn't really have space to back up and charge on in, especially with the morass of scrunts surrounding the thing. He opts to do what he does best; mounting large metal objects. Kicking off the side of the large fuel tank, the scruntgeant lands on Hardchest's back, above the engine and between the searchlights, and brings his tox-ridden chainsword down on a likely-looking armour seam. Gumbo practically bites his cigar in two with the effort required to carve through the metal, and frantically clings to the exhaust pipe as Hardchest bucks and rears to try and throw him off. The carapace metal seems to flake off onto Gumbo's fatigues, before clumping together and being re-absorbed; eventually, the scrunt feels his chainsword motor suddenly leap as the resistance on the teeth lets up, as Hardchest howls in rage and pain. Gumbo thumbs the tox-injector switch, withdraws his sword before the metal re-grows over it, and considers his next move. Groin vvvRRRorrrrrr paws ineffectually at his foe, failing to penetrate armour. If only... if only Jekk could help. Another sniper round whizzes past him, splatting into the wooden leg of the guard tower. Grimply draws a bead, inhales. Pulls the trigger, exhales. Coughs and wheezes, because he is a scrunt. Cackling with glee, he beholds the effect his slug has had on Hardchest; his skull is split open, Grimply can see armour through the man's head! There... there is a disconcerting lack of brain, though. Grimply was expecting more pearlescent white, rather than this worrying bismuth sheen. And where's the blood? And the dreadnaught's still moving, albeit even more erratically, and it looks like the two head-halves are slowly flopping back together... The Scrunt Militia, in the absence of any shouted orders, turn their attention to the biggest immediate threat; the giant stompy biomechanical machineman currently stamping on scrunts. They pour automatic fire at Hardchest, cutting down civilian scrunts in the crossfire and generally failing to do vooorrrrrrrrrRRRRRRrrrrrrrrr anything useful. Several shots do spang off his vulnerable head, but none seem to do any damage. Cornered and feral, both Scruntmobs bring rotten tooth and gnarled fist to bear against their aggressors. Squad Three falls under vvvRRRRRRrrrooRRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrr a tide of unpleasantness as Scruntmob 2 yees defiance. Scruntmob 1 is obviously less successful, faced as they are with an armoured fighting vehicle, but they seem too panicked to realise they're not doing any damage. Without a change in circumstances, there's a good chance the entire mob will be slaughtered. The second Valkyrie that's been making approach reaches the farm, coming in from the south-east and hovering briefly to allow its passengers to emerge before streaking off into the distance! More PDF footsoldiers hit the ground! lightmap!  darkmap!  ---- scrunt Murdelia runs to take cover. Kreb dies and gets replaced unless we see consistent posting for the next month, starting next round. I'm getting sick of this poo poo. Hardchest charges the scruntmob, as it's in his way. The gunfire is just flavour. Mung rams, kills the remaining drop trooper from team three. Team One fire fire fire; lasrifle doesn't hit Grimply, bolt pistol does hit Grimply (thanks to the scope) but he dodges. Squad One continues trying to kill a scrunt; fails. Drekk continues trying to kill a scrunt; fails. Yurik pulls the pin and dies in extraordinary pain. Hurrah! He's back in his old body, he's killed a load of dudes with acid, and he takes six insanity points for dying, and two corruption points for flitting through the warp, if he fails a WP test. Put it in your next post. Grumb kills; walks. Still got his knife in his hands; I assume by "knife" this is your mono close combat weapon and not your lovely 1d5 combat knife, otherwise we'll have to retcon a couple of dudes back to life. Gumbo mounts the walker. Ok so this is where it gets a bit complicated. Hardchest is an open-topped walker; you still need to make called shots to hit him, otherwise you're relying on happening to get the head on the hit location chart. However - he has moved already and taken his turn, so he cannot swivel to face a new attacker; I have assumed that Gumbo is not retarded and thus has attacked from behind, minimizing the amount of armour he has to punch through to get to the juicy meaty chesty core within and inject his toxins. He rolls really well with the chainsword, but only manages to puncture armour due to Get Them! So, minimal structural damage At this point, as he has activated his tox injector, toxin damage happens. This makes no sense to do against a vehicle; they can't take tox damage. However, he's punched through to the crew compartment of a dreadnaught, which is entirely taken up by crew. So it makes no sense for it not to work on Hardchest. Thankfully, it works because Hardchest is a biomechanical monstrosity that it no longer makes sense to talk about as being seperate from his dreadnaught, and so he takes Structural Damage  . Hardchest fails his "resist toxin" toughness test (spoilers: he has toughness less than 99), Dreadnaught is Lightly Damaged. Gumbo is also in the same square as the dreadnaught (red dot), he's just posed like this on the map.Groin hits, does poo poo damage, gets all damage soaked. If he'd got Jekk to help with his comrade order he would have done enough damage to kill the last PDF dude, but welp. Grimply smacks the living poo poo out of Hardchest, essentially doing structural damage without all that pesky "heavy armour" getting in the way. Dreadnaught is Severely Damaged, verging on the Nearly Dead. Scrunt Militia kill a couple scrunts in Scruntmob One. Squads Four and Five show up!! These guys are still formations, and this is the last bunch of mans who'll be attacking; they're armed differently, but they're still going to go down quickly. Murdelia is in cover with respect to Squad Four.
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Aug 19, 2015 22:28
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Mungly Mung In the Chimera Mung was deeply pleased by the sound of the blinded soldier's final screams before being crushed by the hydraulics of the rear door that it reminded him that Mung himself was still screaming and now that the immediate danger was gone, couldn't remember why. Screaming turns into hoarse manic giggling as he jimmies the gas a bit and sees red smears emerging from underneath his vehicle. He looks at the tech rats and begins to speak, "Ya did good laddies with the door, couldn't think of a better way to..." before he is cut off again by the sound of a aircraft overhead. He turns back to see another squad of troops rappelling down just a handful of meters away. Mung shouts the first thing to come to mind out loud: "AW HORSE poo poo" The tech scrunt jams in the gas pedal, there's more guys there than he thinks he can run over so he opts to do the next best thing: line them up to shoot at them. He forgets to raise the back door, instead letting it drag his last victim along with him as Mung maneuvers to get the vehicle back in the hole in the building and facing the new assailants. When reversing the Chimera back into the hole whence it came, he looks out the back and wishes he didn't. Some metal monstrosity was pounding is way too the farm house and shaking of the scruntmob like a bad case of fleas. He also sees Murdella running vaguely in his direction so he does the best he can think of to grab her attention: turning the search lights on the new squad of humans and honking his horn. Phone scrunt. Basically just repositioning the Chimera back into the hole in the wall I made with front armor facing the new squad. Leaving the back door open so Murdella can climb in and shoot mans. Turning search lights on and lighting up the new squad. See two posts ago for vehicle stat block because 
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Aug 20, 2015 14:52
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Grumb Slanger, the dormitory The hell was that, Grumb thinks, stepping over a busted-up chair and some shards of glass. "Yew say sumping, Barry?" "Yes Grumb, I said I's all done wif' da gun, Grumb!" Barry triumphantly presents the heavy stubber to his cousin. "No, no, not dat," Grumb says dismissively. "D'ja say something about a little 'un just now?" "Oh, no, Grumb, not me Grumb. I tink it wuzzat big stompy guy over thur." He gestures vaguely northeast with a jerk of his shoulder. A look of concern spreads across Grumb's face as he crosses the dormitories northward, revealing the towering dreadnought locked into a deadly struggle with the sergeant. "poo poo," Grumb cries as a lead slug soars through the closest window. "Giddown!" The two dive for cover, sidling up along the tables propped up by the windows. "It's clive time!" Grumb stage-whispers at his cousin, who dutifully grabs the autocannon from the floor beneath and shoves it into Grumb's hands. ----------------------------------------------------- Grumb takes a full move to get into position by the windows with a clear shot at Frank Hardchest. He orders Barry to equip him with Clive in preparation for next round. If Grumb is not allowed to use Barry's orders to equip his own weapon, then I will use 200 of my unspent XP to purchase quick draw right-the-hell now, and equip it anyways.
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Aug 21, 2015 00:23
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Drekk The Farm Malbrathia-3 Drekk uttered a low "Shat", he and Widget have hunkered down behind a flipped table after he dodged the grenade. It was an Iron Eater grenade with a very potent acid that slowly ate through the soldier and his "comrades". Thankfully, the two scrunts were relatively unscathed. Drekk felt a bit horrified, though. He saw some hosed up poo poo back on Hive Tectus, but nothing of this caliber. Despite missing his target, thankfully it wasn't enough force to lodge his sword in the ground. He peeked up and saw the Scrunt with the Big Gun and his buddy (Grumb and Barry) moving near a window for a better firing position, he hears the booming voice of someone (or something) demanding "THE LITTLE ONE" out in the distance, and the engine hum of a Valkyrie overhead, which means more 'umies have dropped down. He carefully looks out (an oddly intact window) to see a Chimaera flashing its lights, exposing a new squad. However, he heard bootsteps back where Yurik is. For a minute, he thought of his next course action. He might not be able to help Grumb, as he isn't the most ballistic scrunt, despite lugging an autogun and an autopistol around. "Oi, Widget" Drekk said "The 'umies might go after Yurik, we need to go after 'em!" Drekk then jumps out a window and proceeds to do what he does best: Charge! Widget tries his damnedest to keep up on his two scrunty little legs. *** Time for some more hosed up scrunty "heroics"! Targeting Squad Five for a Charge. 46 WS + 20 (Charge) = 66, I rolled a 75. This should be good enough. Kaiju Cage Match fucked around with this message at 23:41 on Aug 21, 2015 |
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Aug 21, 2015 19:59
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Yurik Scraglagger...! The Siege Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 2/12 Pain. Yurik was rarely ever (almost never, really) wrong about anything, but he was wrong when he'd thought that the pain of being simultaneously on fire and disemboweled was the worst agony that a living being could experience. In the time it took the Iron Eater grenade's concentrated acidic payload to reduce his borrowed body to a pool of bubbling sludge he realized that there were entire universes of pain hithertofore undreamt of by mortal scrunt. While his voracious brain yearned for knowledge, he thought to himself with the detachment of the horribly dying, there was some knowledge that he could happily do without. And then he was back in own body once more. There was pain still, but this time it was the comparatively lesser, much more manageable pain of simply having been shot at a bunch. Shot at? What the fack had that humie been doing with his body? And where was his thinkin' cap!? Yurik's scrunty hands slapped his mercifully scrunty body all over, yelping as he found various scrapes and bullet holes but otherwise confirmed that his corporeal self was more or less just as he'd left it. At the edges of his perception he could faintly hear the unholy shrieks of a lost soul being rent asunder by the unspeakable beings which lurked beyond reality, a sound which he quickly and deliberately turned right out as he focused his attention on more important matters...finding his thinkin' cap. Thankfully his assistant Hack was, for once, actually helpful, holding the slightly dented helm out with a rasping gurgle and a confused look. Of course he didn't realize what Yurik had just gone through...nobody did and nobody would until he had the time to properly recount things. Assuming he did, that is. Perhaps some stories were best kept to himself. Nodding vaguely he planted the cap back upon his head, loose wires sparking as it contacted his cranium, and he instantly felt much more like himself. A quick inspection revealed that quite a number of things had happened since he'd been out of his body. For one thing there was some sort of mechanical monstrosity making an infernal racket as it stomped in the general direction of the farmhouse. For another thing more humies had sprouted up like shouty, shooty weeds. At this rate they were going to be killing the long-legged bastards until sunup. First things first then...the other scrunts looked like they had the walker well in hand (is what he told himself, vowing not to get anywhere near that thing until it was thoroughly disabled) which left a nearby knot of humies for him to deal with. Setting them on fire one at a time would take too long (and after what happened the last time he felt like giving the brain powers a rest for now), which meant it was down to more conventional methods of murder. He reached down to rustle up a grenade from his robes and froze, fingers and eyes twitching at the still-fresh memories of what happened the last time he'd pulled the pin on a grenade. No...no, he'd use the rifle instead after all. Yurik took careful aim with the weapon, lining up his sights upon the milling squad of soldiers down below with expert precision, breathing slow and steady, steady now...and then he yanked the trigger with a frenzied shout, the ramshackle weapon bucking in his hands as he sprayed bullets wildly in the general direction of the Severan troopers. Hack joined in the fray as well, the other scrunt unslinging his rifle and letting out a war-hork as he sent even more bullets spraying downrange. *** Rolling Willpower as ordered (TN 50) and I get a 12. For my turn I will use a full-action suppressing fire attack at full-auto against Squad Five to try and force them to get pinned. This will impose a -20 penalty upon the target's Willpower check to resist being pinned, and while it's not really an attack per se Yurik gets to make a -20 penalty BS check to see if he hits anything. His comrade Hack will be contributing with the Ranged Volley order to give Yurik a +5 on the off chance that I roll a 17 or less. I do not but the suppression effect still occurs.
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Aug 25, 2015 01:15
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Murdelia Skurvy Boardin' Seeing the mechanoid monstrosity stomping vaguely towards her, a scrunt hanging off its back like a hosed-up dangling vehicle ornament, Murdelia knew things had gotten much worse than before. She was entirely confident in the rest of the scruntgang being able to take this thing down without her, so right now the most important thing was to get safe and secure in a large metal box which she knew was stored in this very building. Said metal box was now tearing around through piles of rubble, spraying mulched up Severan everywhere, denting the Scruntauros with shrapnel and generally causing havoc. And what luck, the rear door was already open! As she surveyed the battlescape/monster truck arena, a new squad of Severans dropped down from a Valkyrie and immediately began cringing at the devastation. Murdelia makes a run for the dangerously operated Scruntmera, hoping to board it before any harm befalls her. Arnika follows too, nervously glancing back at the thrashing, screaming, metallic monster-thing only a few meters away being torn apart by concentrated firepower.
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Aug 25, 2015 09:17
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Groin Sklunger The Farm, The Fightin Groin lunges at the remaining PDF trooper, scruntily, while yelling at Jekk to help out. Jekk helps out, in a scrunt like manner. __________ Groin uses a Full Action on All Out Attack: 1d100 = 90 +30 from All Out Attack, +10 from Jekk's Close Quarters Order (Ganging Up) = 50. Which fails, so I'm burning a Fate Point because I'm sick of fighting this dude. Full Action on All Out Attack 2: All Out Attack Reloaded: 1d100 = 87. Which still probably fails again with bonuses... ffs.
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Aug 26, 2015 01:30
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Grimply, Rooferrigno Flet uses his turn to take aim at Hardchest while I load my second to last peen round. Will I finally get hurt in this campaign?!?!? I actually wanted to write something cool with Hardchest but I currently have next to no time and it sucks
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Aug 26, 2015 15:15
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Gumbo Bulge, still ridin' the 'naught accidentally edited instead of quoting!! I will fix this later Another :tox: injector, called shot at whatever makes the most sense (I think his head via his back?? if still riding). 45WS, Close Quarters order to Pirk Get them order to all comrades in range 43 + 10 = 53. Phoon fucked around with this message at 21:56 on Sep 2, 2015 |
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Aug 26, 2015 15:49
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Contagion The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DpA-QuGHMnI giant robots fighting!! seriously wtf is this video holy poo poo Like greased lightning, Murdelia is smelly, unpleasant, and something that most people don't want touching them. Also like greased lightning, she sprints across the cluttered workshop away from the cybernetic monster in front of her, vaulting over benches and skittering over rubble as her comrade follows a few paces behind. She hangs a frantic left once she realises there's a new squad of PDF troopers looming out of the dark at her, diving between the tracks of the Scruntmera and clawing her way through to the back. She installs herself in the turret, dropping her gun at her feet, as Arnika plummets into the cupola from above. Kreb twitches faintly, before finally cracking. Howling to the sky, hissing and yeeing fit to split the heavens, he drops his gun, clutches at his skull, and burrows downwards with surprising speed. The tunnel collapses behind him, but presumably he's hit one of the old Ophidius tunnels. Whatever it is he feels he has to do, it's probably something he has to do alone. Hardchest, with the aid of his roving searchlights, finally gets a lock on Grimply. Given that the scruntlet is all the way up on the roof, and Hardchest is all the way down on the ground, and further than Hardchest is completely insane with hatred, rage, now has a bipartite head, and is infested with a horrific influx of living metal, there's really only one thing he can do. Claws to the fore, and heavy stubber batteries unloading seemingly at random, the pseudo-dreadnaught sprints at full speed into the corner of the farmhouse, attempting to demolish enough of the building to bring the roof down! Scrunts fly like ninepins as he tramples the mob, leaving another handful of stricken creatures bleeding and dying on the roadside. Gumbo barely holds on (Pirk clinging gamely to an ankle), and bashes painfully against the armoured carapace as Hardchest lurches forwards like a runaway train, smashing through a large portion of load-bearing wall and covering the kitchen with brick dust and broken glass - traditional scrunt seasonings. Worryingly, it seems the two parts of his split head are getting closer together. Mung slams his foot down and hauls the Scruntmera into a new facing once the medic's safely aboard. He slams the rear hatch and flicks on the searchlight, lighting the new squad up like a christmas tree, and swallows hard once he sees the tell-tale boxy outlines of two disposable missile launchers. He can only hope the troopers aren't suicidal enough to go for a death-or-glory salvo. The turret multilaser waggles slightly; it's locked in place, but there's enough give for fine aiming and it's plenty lethal at this close range. The remaining two members of Drop Team One sprint after the dreadnaught, and dash to shelter in the corner of the workshop's doorway. Knowing their back is covered by a new squad of PDF troopers, they're happy dashing into the gloom - they're less happy to realise the workshop is full of ordnance, including a familiar-looking truck, and even less happy once they realise the rumbling of the Scruntmera's engine is coming from directly behind them. Their minds race as they plan their next move. Squad Four make themselves slightly more popular with the agricultural scrunts by promptly fertilising the vegetable patch they're standing on - pushing, jostling and shoving, ignoring the shouted commands of their team leader, they dash through the gloom away from the Scruntmera, down a narrow corridor the vehicle has no chance of following. Their capacity for evading incoming fire is now severely compromised, but they're a hair's breadth from panicking and long-term planning is not on the agenda. The Dreadnaught Searchlights beam into the farmhouse aimlessly as Drekk winds up to charge. Roaring defiance, and emulating the dreadnaught, he slams into Squad Five. Lacking several tons of biomechanical mass, he is slightly less successful, and a forest of bayonets fends off his assault. Maybe he could try demanding the militia or scruntmobs join in the melee to even things up, assuming he can be heard over the fray. Yurik attempts to help out by pouring suppressive fire into the mob, but times it poorly; Drekk is already tangled up in the fight by the time the lead starts spraying. Humans and scrunt alike drop to the ground, attempting to avoid catching a round, but the odds are on Drekk's side. Grumb goggles as a giant metal monster slams into the corner of the building he's in. Rather than moving, he drops his knife and swings Clive to bear, peering down the sight. Gumbo groggily raises himself up again onto Hardchest's metal shoulders, driving his chainsword into the relatively unprojected section where the neck-flesh meets the armour-flesh. Hardchest howls once more as teeth bite through him, and toxins flood what remains of his biological form. Groin continues thrashing around spastically. He's conscious that he's still lit up in sight of snipers as he desperately attempts to jerk off his aggressor, a fact driven home by the mewling of Jekk, who hobbles around behind the Severan, trying to get into position for Groin to shove the human backwards over the scrunt, tripping him up. Groin's thoughts turn to the shotgun in his holster; maybe instead of trying to bludgeon the human, he could simply step back a pace or two and blast off a point-blank shot at the man. It's risky, as it exposes him to a retaliatory strike as he disengages, but it'd allow other scrunts to fire into the melee. His assailant lands a particularly puny blow that can only be described as a caress. Still, it draws blood. Grimply staggers from the sheer impact of Hardchest's assault, and the roof lists alarmingly. The scruntlet goes slithering down the roof on his haunches, squatting awkwardly in the gutter - to his dismay, Flet goes careening over the edge, just as his freshly-loaded Longshot skitters out of his hands and perches awkwardly on the brink! Both scruntling and rifle appear to not have much time left to hang on, and the sniper can only save one; there's a convenient pile of soft-looking garbage at the bottom of the roof, so whichever has to take the fall will probably remain unscatched, albeit unable to assist Grimply in his current combat situation. Squad Five crawl on their hands and knees through the night, away from Yurik's fusillade. A quick headcount reveals that they are now only nine strong; one trooper lies gutted from groin to sternum, a victim to Drekk's instinct of lashing out at fleeing prey. Once again, no-one tells the Militia what to do, so they rely on their own best judgement. They get out of the light, and away from the crazed metal beast, as fast as their legs can carry them. The scruntmobs remain rampant; mob one is terrified, bloodied, and beaten. It dissolves, scrunts spilling off and going to ground in all directions. Scruntmob two spill out into the road; now that they've tasted blood, maybe Groin could call on them for help? The snipers again take aim at anyone still lit up. Grimply once again ducks down further just in time to avoid losing his head, and a bullet spangs off Groin's mechanical arm with no real effect other than to start the jerk-off routine at double speed. The fight's nearly gone out of the Severans; there's no sign of any more reinforcements. The scrunts just need to make sure word of what's happened never gets out, and the best way to do that is by killing anything over four feet in height.  lightmap!  darkmap! ----- scruntnurcs Murdelia moves Kreb is no longer a player; RIP, but you actually gotta loving post occasionally if you want to be part of scruntclub. We'll start looking for a new gunner soon. Hardchest rams a building; no damage to himself, building's kinda hosed. It'll take like three more rams to demolish it, so it's unlikely to come crashing down this combat unless the Chimera helps, but Grimply is about to take an Agility test to see if he keeps his footing. He also self-repairs. Mung moves and prompts an impromptu tank shock on squad four. Not literally; I just can't imagine them standing still in front of a turret and a searchlight and a tank. Drop Team One are in the workshop, and have seen all that is scrunt. What will they do next round? Will they go for radio, vehicle, or nuke? Squad Four cram into a tiny alley. They can't be targeted by the multilaser anymore, but the pintle autogun will work fine and that's arguably better against these guys. They also can't really dodge very well at this point. Lights do nothing useful, Drekk's in melee Yurik suppresses a melee containing a single scrunt and ten humans. What happens next is going to be kinda complicated, so: > All melee participants are pinned (Drekk failed WP test), but melee is still going on. > All pinned people have to use their next turn to move away from Yurik; this means the squad will move 3m to the east, prompting a free attack from Drekk due to disengaging improperly. In this case, each member of the formation needs to move. > Melee participants automatically pass pinning tests, and the squad's still in melee range! But Drekk's in combat with the participants! So, they don't automatically pass their pinning test. > Drekk will pass his pinning test automatically at the end of his next turn, but can only take a half action, which he has to use to move away from Yurik. > He will be surrounded by the formation but not actually in combat until the start of Squad Five's turn. Grumb no longer needs to move to draw a bead on Hardchest; he has instead equipped and aimed Clive. Odds are Hardchest's going to be in sight next round too, but let me know if you'd rather stick with moving, or if you want Betsy instead. Gumbo has either taken 3 wounds or 1 degree of fatigue from Sgt Hardchest's Wild Ride; your choice. Get Them! went off fine; and holy poo poo you actually hit the dude's head on a roll of 9. 14 structural damage to Hardchest; dude's very nearly dead. Groin misses! His buddy does no damage because he loving sucks Grimply flubs Agility roll quite badly; he slithers down the roof as a result. He basically has to choose whether to lose the use of Flet or the Longshot for a round or two; or, you can fate point the agility roll, and on a success that will let you save both. Squads and scrunts do what they do. Snipers miss both dudes.
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Aug 26, 2015 21:31
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Drekk The Farm Malbrathia-3 Currently dancing like a madman. *** Drekk's charge failed to a small degree, and now Yurik and Hack are doing suppressing fire on Squad Five. He appreciates their intentions, but this isn't a good time. The squad tries to break off, but Drekk manages to kill a trooper. In the distance, he see's Gumbo's militia, who regressed to their primal, scrunty instincts when Gumbo decided to ride the Severan Dreadnaught like a rodeo bull. Maybe, Drekk thinks to himself, If I can yell loud enough, those plonkas will get off their arses and help! "OI!" Drekk yells out as he moves away from the firing zone, "THERE'S 'UMIES TO FIGHT! *** Half move away from Yurik Fellowship test to convince the scrunt militia to help 26 Fellowship and a bonus 10 from Peer - scum = 36 Rolled a 50, drat Gonna use a Fate Point to re-roll 49! Oh well. Also I updated my sheet to reflect the change in Fate Points, GM. Kaiju Cage Match fucked around with this message at 15:31 on Aug 27, 2015 |
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Aug 27, 2015 12:32
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Murdelia clambers into the gunners seat in the Scruntmera turret. She had never fired such a large weapon before, but how hard could it be? It was point and click. And now she was encased in invulnerable metal, so a lot of the stress from combat was irrelevant. Looking around the cramped compartment, she saw that it was even more cramped than it should be. Besides the normal scrunt detritus crammed into every corner and spilling off every level surface, a lot of the trash was unusually glossy and hardbacked. Frowning mightily, she swipes a sample off a teetering pile of used rags and peers at it in the dim internal lighting. AGE OF SIGMOR RULEBOOK LIMITED EDITION
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Aug 30, 2015 02:20
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Italics description of what you're actually doing, please. At present it looks like you're getting equipped with: multilaser which is locked front forward and can't do anything because you don't have enemies in front of you.
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Aug 30, 2015 10:40
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Groin Sklunger The Farm, The Farm, Groin attacks the PDF Trooper for a third time, literally frothing and foaming at the mouth with rage. But this time he decides to abort his tactical-tug-off maneuver, and instead jumps back, whips out his trusty shotgun and prepares to unload. "Git fecked..." he mumbles. ____________ Half Action to move out of melee range. Free Action to equip shotgun. Jekk also uses a Half Action to move. Expending my last remaining fate point to get a +10 bonus to hit. Half Action on a Standard Ranged Attack, with Jekk doing Ranged Volley. Standard Ranged Attack: 1d100 = 45 + 10 from fate = 35 +10 from standard attack = 25 +5 from Ranged Volley = 20
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Aug 30, 2015 11:38
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DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:Italics description of what you're actually doing, please. At present it looks like you're getting equipped with: multilaser which is locked front forward and can't do anything because you don't have enemies in front of you. I mean, she can overwatch the front while I try to reverse into the troops behind us.I'm sure if they think I'm driving away that fresh squad will come back to the hole to try and flank. Edit^^^ Don't forget the bonus for being point blank and as a reminder to DJF of the scatter rule at point blank. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 14:06 on Aug 30, 2015 |
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Aug 30, 2015 14:03
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Grumb Slanger, the dormitory Grumb nearly leaps out of his boots in awe as the stomping monstrosity comes barrelling through the farmhouse walls. Recognizing this immediately as the sort of situation he's probably supposed to be on top of, he grabs up his autocannon and points it at the hulking dreadnought. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his cousin's cowering form curled up behind a folding chair. "Dangol, look alive, Barry!" Grumb shouts impatiently. Barry quivers, holding Betsy to his chest with white-knuckled fright. Grumb lightens his voice, and encouragingly adds "R'member how I taughtcha. Aim..." "...Aim," Barry repeats hesitantly, propping the stubber up on the battered chair. "And gently caress EM UP." ---------------------------------------------- Standard Action - Semi Auto Burst Clive the Autocannon - Heavy 300m S/3/– 3d10+8 I Pen 6 Clip 20, 2full reload, reliable 45 BS + 5 Ranged Volley Order + 10 Short Range (target 60). I rolled a 33. That's three degrees of success, so two shots connect! (3d10+8) x2 8+7+7+8=30 8+3+9+8=28 Following this, a Move Action to dive for cover- from the dreadnought if he is still standing, or from Squad Five if he does not appear to survive.
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Aug 30, 2015 22:49
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Yurik Scraglagger The Siege Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 2/12 Yurik cackled madly as he finally let his finger off the trigger to survey his handiwork. The Severan unit was scrambling and panicking to avoid the incoming fire, and...was that?...yes! There on the ground, an unmoving body lying in a spreading pool of blood. "Ha! Didja see that, Hack!?," Yurik whooped, gesturing at the body of the trooper that Drekk had actually killed in the confusing melee. "I got one!" Hack horked enthusiastically, jumping up and down and firing wildly into the air like the useful idiot he was. A massive impact suddenly shook the building they were standing in, windows shattering and plaster chunks falling from the ceiling. Yurik yelped and slapped a hand atop his thinkin' cap to hold it in place as the floor shook beneath his feet. That walking monstrosity! Fack, that thing was faster than it looked. "Someone fackin' kill that thing before it brings the whole fackin' building down you fackers!" he shouted helpfully, panic not at all seeping into his voice as he hunkered down and poked the barrel of his rifle through a shattered windowpane and let loose a slightly more measured series of shots at the regular, non-cybernetic monstrosity troops down below. *** These guys have the dreadnought situation well in hand so I'm gonna keep at squad five below. Since I don't want to suppress Drekk by accident again I'll half action aim and then take a semi-auto burst against them, for a total TN of 32 +10 = 42, then Hack will assist with a Ranged Volley for a further +5 to make it 47. I get a 43 which is just barely a success, but whatever, I'll take it. I don't know if there are further modifiers involved in shooting at squads so maybe it'll be better or maybe it won't, either way.
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Aug 31, 2015 19:52
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Mungly Mung Hot Tankin Mung thought he had the PDF troopers on the dead to rights with the lights on them and Murdellia hopping into the gunner seat, but by the time Mung looked back at the squad they had apparently hosed off elsewhere. 'Ah well,' Mungly thought, 'At least they aren't sniffing around the tan... His thought was cut off when he seen movement in his rear mirror. Apparently another squad of humans showed up intent to steal the booty. "Fack" He shouts to his new gunner, Keep an eye on the front if'n case them jerks come back around, let me work on this." He jams the vehicle in reverse to run down the squad behind them. --------------------------- RAM THEM JERKS. Operate Vehicle (ground) +10 from MIU and +5 for armor bonus. Fate point to reroll if I fail. Going to keep the lights focused on the hole in the wall in case Squad 4 comes back around so Murdellia can shoot at them. code:DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 14:28 on Sep 4, 2015 |
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Aug 31, 2015 23:02
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Grimply, Roofin Rumble Grimply tumbles all over the place, yeeing and cursing, while the metal demon trashes into the farm house. He slams into the edge of the roof, and feels an unpleasant tug as Flet grabs on to his cloak in the chaos. The little scrunt yees frantically, while dangling over the roof only held by a part of Grimply's groady clothing. With all his will, Grimply pushes against what's left of the wall and tries to grab over to pull up Flet. It's either that or they both fall. His searching hand finds the stubby fingers of his companion, and he pulls while also hefting himself slightly over the wall to see what's happening below him. "Faacck! Grab me 'and lad! Or we'll bothFAAAAACKKK" The fact that the metal demon is right below Flet, claws snapping, body hulking, doesn't improve this situation "I HAVE YOU NOW, LITTLE ONE!!!" screams the half mended metal face Grimply recoils back in terror, and the sudden jab is enough to tear of the part of his cloak that Flet was holding on to. He falls from the roof into the darkness below, with a desperate yee. Grimply is lying on his back, like a particular nasty and smelly bug, and just snaps. Flet is gone!! There are humies everywhere!! Also a metal demon!! EVERYTHING IS FACK!! He scampers back to his feet, and his eyes land on the big rifle that's still wedged against the corner of the roof. He will now go the great Slam, and take his place with the Father, that much is sure. But he can't expect the Father to be kind, because Grimply failed. He failed to find the Slam Sector, and he failed to protect his flock. Tears start flowing down his face, has he leaps towards the rifle. This one last thing needs to be done. He needs to not be a total failure when he meets the Father! As he grabs the rifle, he uses all his remaining strength to angle it over the edge and at the screaming metal demon while his claws dig into the house again "YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!" Flet is out of cohesion as of now, and I'm willing to spend a fate point to have him land not too rough. Then I'll half action aim, and point blank fire at hardchest with the other half action 40 vs 85(45 + 10(aim) +10(single) +10(short range) +10(accurate)) 13+3 I damage + 1 I damage which counts as 4 since the ammo is proven(4) "Tha big one" Longshot Sniper Rifle (350m / s/-/- / [damage by ammo type] / [pen by ammo type] / clip 1 / rld full / Accurate) Penetrator rounds: 1d10+3 I damage / pen 4 / Proven (4), Razor Sharp (double Pen on 3DoS or more attack) "Ol' Scrunt Eye" Energy Sniper Rifle(Longlas - Basic/ 150m / s/-/- / 1d10+3E(+5E with overload) / pen1(3 with overload) / clip 36 / full round reload / Accurate, Reliable(Unreliable with overload), Felling (1)) GM reminder that I'm very small and have a camo cloak Alternate action If robochest gets destroyed before my turn, then I'll recover Flet, ditch the Longshot for now, pull out my Longlas and move/jump/tumble into the floor below me to act from there on my next turn. Tin Tim fucked around with this message at 20:07 on Sep 1, 2015 |
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Sep 1, 2015 18:30
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Gumbo Bulge, still ridin' the 'naught As Gumbo rides by he realises he has returned to where he started. The militia mill about, confused, some pointing their guns in seemingly random directions, one has started passionately kissing his rifle, lots of tongue. "Oy you lot!! Concentray fire!! Shoot them humans!!" he waves frantically in the direction of squad five. Same actions as last time, plus an order to the militia to shoot at squad five. willing to use a fate point on the attack roll if it might bring hardchest down: Another :tox: injector, called shot at whatever makes the most sense (I think his head via his back?? if still riding). 45WS, Close Quarters order to Pirk Get them order to all comrades in range 43 + 10 = 53.
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Sep 2, 2015 09:07
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