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I mean, we can't get something so bad we just sell it. That's not interesting. We need something just good enough to keep and worthwhile to invest C-Bills into or else it's just going to be sold.
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Dec 31, 2023 21:12
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Z the IVth posted:1/3 archer, 1/3 warhammer and some spare phoenix hawk bits. ok gimme a minute to whip this up, in the meantime here's the archbansheehammermaster from PTN's game 
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Dec 31, 2023 21:37
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biosterous posted:ok gimme a minute to whip this up, in the meantime here's the archbansheehammermaster from PTN's game RIP Col Wendigo. Couldn't stop twerking the Hunchback.
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Dec 31, 2023 21:47
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 Warcherhawk
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Dec 31, 2023 22:15
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biosterous posted:
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Dec 31, 2023 22:18
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Scintilla posted:I can confirm that it's not a Helepolis. I actually did consider it, but then I realised that giving goons access to heavy artillery would I'm confused why this would make you not do it?
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Dec 31, 2023 22:26
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my artistic abilities + aptitude with paintdotnet are at the precisely optimal level to make art for frankenmechs and corsairs
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Dec 31, 2023 22:26
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biosterous posted:
This looks like it'd work great tbh
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Dec 31, 2023 22:32
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biosterous posted:
This is making me wanna play Front Mission 3 with it's 'slap different mech parts together' approach again.
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Dec 31, 2023 22:40
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Great, now I can't get the lyrics of that Prodigy song out of my head... Sing along! I'm the trouble starter, punkin' instigator I'm the fear addicted, the danger illustrated Hey, hey, hey I'm a fire starter, twisted fire starter Hey, hey, hey You're a fire starter, twisted fire starter Hey, hey, hey I'm a fire starter, twisted fire starter
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Dec 31, 2023 22:41
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biosterous posted:
The name is the cherry on top, delightful.
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Jan 1, 2024 00:34
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biosterous posted:
"War Hawk?" "No..." "Phoenix Hammer?" "Nah..." "Mohawk" "Closer, you're on to something..." "Warcherhawk" "YES! Send it to marketing."
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Jan 1, 2024 00:40
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Volmarias posted:I'm confused why this would make you not do it? Well I want this LP to last longer than a handful of contracts.  Don't worry though, there's a golden opportunity for players to kill themselves in the next mission. 
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Jan 1, 2024 09:18
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Scintilla posted:Well I want this LP to last longer than a handful of contracts. Why do I hear Pompeii? Oh right. Operation Himinbjörg posted:Bloody Pom fucked around with this message at 09:38 on Jan 1, 2024 |
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Jan 1, 2024 09:35
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Scintilla posted:Well I want this LP to last longer than a handful of contracts. The inner sphere has such terrible OSHA workplace practices
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Jan 1, 2024 10:26
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Is it pronounced ‘woosterhawk’
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Jan 1, 2024 11:41
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Slavvy posted:The inner sphere has such terrible OSHA workplace practices Osha? Never heard of it. Is that some failed FWL prototype hovercraft or something?
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Jan 1, 2024 16:44
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Lemniscate Blue posted:Osha? Never heard of it. Is that some failed FWL prototype hovercraft or something? It's a smaller nation in the periphery, the Oligarchy of the Sovereign Hegemony Assembly.
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Jan 1, 2024 17:04
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Revvik posted:Is it pronounced ‘woosterhawk’ 
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Jan 1, 2024 17:08
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Revvik posted:Is it pronounced ‘woosterhawk’ Wuhstahaak
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Jan 1, 2024 17:09
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Revvik posted:Is it pronounced ‘woosterhawk’  Worcesterhawk
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Jan 1, 2024 17:48
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Next mission is nearly ready, I'm just going through my pilot list and contacting old players.
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Jan 4, 2024 21:40
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Oooh, me too, me too!
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Jan 4, 2024 23:57
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Looking forwards to whatever the hideous garbage that we'll be getting for our random wheel o'mechs!
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Jan 5, 2024 00:57
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My actual personal guess is an Orion. A common heavy mech of the Star League that's an unusual sight by this era without being anything particularly overpowered or exotic.
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Jan 5, 2024 01:04
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An Orion would be a common mech and honestly a pretty damned decent pick. Maybe a bit heavy on ballistics and missiles but can hit decently at all ranges, nice heavy movement profile despite being on the higher end, and to my knowledge, a pretty beefy amount of armor. Only thing lacking is heat sinks. Base 10 is a little low for it's weaponry but given it's different range profiles, it's not a huuuge deal.
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Jan 5, 2024 01:36
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Cythereal posted:My actual personal guess is an Orion. It'll be a Rifleman and you know it (I'm a fan of the OSR-2C tho)
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Jan 5, 2024 01:41
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While we wait between missions, I remembered the goon Two Beans made this MechWarrior track remix. We used to play the MWO beta back in the heyday of WoL, many good memories were had. Edit: Just got a bad feeling we're going to get a Quickdraw. Amechwarrior fucked around with this message at 06:36 on Jan 5, 2024 |
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Jan 5, 2024 04:02
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MVP Vote Results Player MVP: Tsing Yeoung (Dervish DV-6M) (Player – AJ_Impy). Gains 4XP! OpFor MVP: Jean-Paul Camus (Wolverine WVR-6R) Will receive special training prior to the next mission! -- Boot Camp – Intermission II November 3rd, 3016 – Nea Ionia, Reunification-Era DropShip El Empecinado A loud thud reverberated through the hull of the S-7A Shuttle Intrepid as the vessel bumped against the starboard docking collar of the Black Eagle-class DropShip El Empecinado. The shuttle vibrated for a moment as the pilot made some minor adjustments before engaging the ship’s docking clamps. A final shudder rocked the smaller vessel, followed by a profound stillness. “Away Team Three, we have successfully docked with the El Empecinado,” the shuttle’s pilot announced over the intercom. Seated inside the shuttle’s specially modified airlock, Chief Salvager June Smuts smiled faintly as a ragged cheer went up from her five subordinates. It had been a little over six hours since the shuttle had detached from their mothership, the Buccaneer-class DropShip Opportunity, and begun its slow journey through the howling void of space towards the El Empecinado. A successful docking would not normally have elicited such celebrations, but their target had been unsafe to approach for many years, and some on board had worried that it still might be. Thankfully the Salvage Bureau’s calculations had been accurate, and the only hazard the team had needed to deal with was boredom. “Great job, Graham,” June thanked the pilot using her environment suit’s built-in communicator. “Any chance you can you give us a read on conditions inside?” The line went silent. After a few seconds the pilot made a frustrated noise. “Sorry, June. I ran a scan, but there’s a bunch of interference, probably residual radiation from the ship’s power plant. All I can tell you is that there’s no O2 on the other side of that door, so uh, don’t forget to seal your helmets before heading in.” “He’s talking about you, Aimee,” snarked Joseph Hayes, the team’s technician. “You guys are never gonna let me live that down, are you?” Aimee Diaz griped as the rest of the team laughed. “It happened once! Once!” “Once is one too many,” June said quietly, her voice cutting through the laughter despite its raspy softness. She was the oldest and longest-serving member of the team, and when she spoke her words carried the weight of experience. “Let’s all do one last gear check. We don’t want this turning into a rescue mission halfway through.” The rest of the six-man team grumbled, but dutifully checked their power packs and tested their emergency oxygen canisters. Aimee raised her arms and stood still as Nori Sugimoto, the team’s safety officer, quickly tested her pressure seals. Aimee’s failure to secure her helmet during a previous operation had become one of Team Three’s running jokes, but privately June sympathised with the younger woman. As one of the team’s two engineers Aimee wore a bulky exoskeleton rather than the slimmer environment suits that everyone else had. Its cumbersome nature, combined with the fact that its left hand had been replaced by a claw-like salvage tool made it tricky for her to properly check her gear without help. When everyone was ready June firmed her jaw and reached for the airlock’s control panel. Following protocol, the rest of the Away Team crowded into a pair of protective nooks on either side of the exterior doors. The act of entering a derelict ship was fraught with danger, since you could never be quite sure what conditions were like inside. The El Empecinado was likely to be a particularly dangerous environment to operate in. The DropShip had been been transiting the Panzyr system in the dying days of the Reunification War when it had been ambushed by a Taurian WarShip. A Naval PPC had punched a huge hole in the port side, destroying the ship’s engine and exposing its innards to the vacuum of space. The doomed vessel had eventually been captured by Nea Ionia, the Panzyr system’s massive ice giant, and had orbited it stably for the past four hundred years. Wrecks that old were always depressurised and often suffered from radiation leaks, ruptured coolant lines, cold-welded access points and a dozen other hazards. A loud hissing filled the room as the pressure inside the airlock was equalised, the sound rapidly tapering off as all the air was pumped out. After several heartbeats the exterior door slowly slid open, revealing a pitch-black rectangle that seemed to suck in all light. June held her breath, but no shrapnel or hazardous chemicals flooded into the shuttle. Slowly, she craned her neck around the doorframe and directed her halogen torch into the darkness. The high-powered beam cut through the shadows like a surgeon’s scalpel, revealing a narrow slice of the DropShip’s starboard loading bay. The Taurians had clearly caught the vessel while it was taking on supplies, because the bay was strewn with half-loaded cargo crates. Some spun lazily in the air, but most hung still, their momentum having bled off centuries ago. “Entrance is clear,” June announced, stepping through the door and motioning for the others to follow. “Away Team Three, move out.” Exploring a derelict spaceship was always an unnerving experience. Navigating their dark, silent corridors always made June feel as though she had stepped into an ominous labyrinth from ancient Terran myth, and the El Empecinado was no exception. As her team slowly made their way deeper into its interior the beams of their torches often caught brief flashes of strange objects floating nearby. A mug of coffee knocked from a sideboard, its frozen contents trailing behind it like the tail of a comet. A motionless cloud of papers and technical manuals that came to life and fluttered about like butterflies as the team moved through them. A framed photograph of a smiling woman and child. A pair of frozen corpses hunched in a dark corner. June took note of the bodies, but did not stop to investigate further. The vacuum of space could preserve a corpse almost indefinitely, so bodies were a common sight in space wrecks, even ones as old as the El Empecinado. Protocol and basic dignity demanded they be left undisturbed if at all possible. The journey to the Mech Bay should have been a simple one, but the direct path was blocked by a collapsed bulkhead, and an alternative route through the DropShip’s engineering section had to be abandoned after the team’s Geiger counters started screaming. Eventually they managed to squeeze through a narrow maintenance passage and make it to the port side of the ship. The delays cost the team valuable time and energy, and by the time they reached the Mech Bay June was dismayed to find that they had already used up a third of their O2 supply. “Alright, let’s see if I can work my magic,” Joseph murmured as he approached the Mech Bay’s imposing doors. He quickly unscrewed a panel under the control pad and connected one of the wires to a portable power pack. The panel’s lights blinked to life, but the door did not open, no matter how many bypasses or hotwires he attempted. Eventually he shook his head and took a step back. “Door’s cold. Tobias, Aimee, you’re up.” Cold-welding was one of the more subtle hazards a salvager could encounter. In the cold vacuum of space, adjacent metal components could spontaneously fuse together. Thankfully, it was nothing the team’s engineers couldn’t handle. Everyone else backed away as Aimee and Tobias lumbered forwards, ready to cut the doors open with their exoskeletons’ built-in plasma torches. June knew the El Empecinado’s Mech Bay would be in bad shape. It might not have been hit directly, but the immense energy of the Naval PPC would have wreaked havoc on it anyway. Her fears were confirmed when Aimee peeled off the last piece of the door, revealing a scene of mechanical carnage that made June’s inner salvager cry out in metaphysical pain. The left half of the bay’s ceiling had exploded inwards, smashing the mechs underneath into unrecognisable chunks of metal and myomer. The far wall had been so badly crumpled and warped by charged particles that a large section had been torn open, exposing the bay to the void. The blueish-green atmosphere of Nea Ionia filled the gap, its roiling clouds of methane and ammonia making the ragged tear seem like a portal to an eldritch dimension filled with shifting horrors beyond mortal ken. “Well, this whole trip was a bloody waste of O2,” Tobias muttered as he surveyed the scene. His helmet’s tinted radiation shield hid his face, but June knew he’d be grimacing in disgust. “Probably,” June conceded, “but we need to check it anyway. Everything needs to be catalogued, remember?” At first nothing seemed to disprove the engineer’s pessimism. Aimee found a Warhammer’s left arm near the entrance, but it was smashed to pieces, and no matter how hard everyone searched they couldn’t find the rest of it. June’s deputy, Delia Ronson, triggered a feverish race to the far end of the bay when she announced that she had found an Orion, but their hopes were dashed when the team realised that it was just a façade. The mech looked fine from the front, but going behind it revealed that all of its innards had been blown out through its back by an ammunition explosion. June sighed, marked the machine down as scrap in her log and moved on. Later, as June stopped to push aside a length of shattered piping, she suddenly caught sight of a distinctive silhouette floating near the ceiling. Her salvagers’ instinct told her to investigate, so she disengaged her magnetic boots and pushed herself up towards the roof. Her heart skipped a beat as the shadow took shape, the ancient battlemech emerging out of the darkness in a manner similar to its namesake.  The Black Knight was badly damaged, that much was certain. Its limbs had been crushed and broken so thoroughly that they didn’t even look like arms and legs anymore, and its torso had been pierced by multiple girders and support struts. Its back hadn’t been totally broken, but as June floated nearer she realised that was a moot point. Its exposed structure had the distinct sheen of Endo-Steel, the miracle metal that the Star League had used to build their wonder machines. The knowledge of how to produce it had died during the chaos and violence of the Succession Wars, so there was little chance that this particular Black Knight would ever move again. Finally, nearly an hour later, one of the team found a mech that might walk again someday. It sat slumped against the far fight hand side of the Mech Bay, hunched over and partially obscured behind a collapsed section of wall, almost as if it had tried to take shelter from the blast.  “Engine is still just about in one piece,” Joseph reported as he poked about in the mech’s exposed chest. “Cockpit and electronics are looking pretty decent too. Slap in a new gyro and a fresh pair of arms and she should be good to go.” Tobias shook his head ruefully as he looked up at the mech’s frame. “So the Orion and the Black Knight get totalled, but the freaking Ostroc survives? Someone somewhere is having a laugh.” After searching the Mech Bay for another half hour without success June decided to bring the operation to a close. She had hoped to be able to explore the Salvage Bay on the same run, but the team had expended too much oxygen for them to do it safely. For now it was time to return to the Opportunity and let another Away Team handle the Salvage Bay and cargo compartments. -- November 16th, 3016 – Panzyr II, Zherdevskiy Palace A soft thump echoed through Marquis Pierre-Louis Decimis’s study as the ageing lord closed the report that one of his aides had just delivered to his desk. There was a rustling sound as the young man stepped out of the shadows and reached out to take the dossier down to the secure archive, but the Marquis waved him away, keeping his hand pressed against the front cover as if the report contained a bomb that might go off at any moment. “Thank you, young Michel, but this one needs a little more consideration,” he murmured. “Please convey my thanks to Superintendent Gascoigne for her hard work over these past months, and inform her that I would like to see her at her earliest convenience.” The aide nodded stiffly and departed. The Marquis waited until he heard the door to his study swing shut, then exhaled slowly and sank down in his chair. The dossier he had just finished reading, though obviously not explosive in the physical sense, did have the potential to send destructive shockwaves through his government if it wasn’t handled correctly. Compiled over many months of clandestine investigations, the report made a number of very serious allegations against Paul Montagne, Panzyr II’s Minister for Trade and Industry. His alleged crimes included corruption, embezzlement, bribery, improper use of state assets, conspiracy, and potentially even treason. The Marquis sucked in his cheeks and bit down gently, using the mild discomfort to focus his mind. He was not naïve. He knew that life on Panzyr II was hard, even for the comparatively well-off officials who served in his ministry. Low-level corruption was endemic, with favours and kickbacks being traded on an almost daily basis. The Marquis disliked such behaviour, but he also recognised that cracking down would involve stepping on the toes of men he relied upon, and so an unspoken understanding had developed wherein he tolerated his Ministers’ special interests as long as A, they did not become public, and B, they did not interfere too burdensomely with the day-to-day affairs of state. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but it did keep the government of Panzyr II chugging along in a mostly harmonious fashion. Naturally, these arrangements also extended to the state-run salvage industry. Salvage operations in Panzyr II were conducted by the Salvage Bureau, a wholly owned subsidiary of the Ministry of Trade and Industry. The Minister of Trade and Industry, Paul Montagne, was a reasonably competent administrator who had seemingly been content to tow the Marquis’s line on special interests. A few scraps had fallen off the back of the Ministry’s DropShuttles since he had assumed his post, but never anything that would raise an eyebrow. It had been small-scale stuff, and the Marquis had been happy to turn a blind eye as long as no military-grade hardware went missing. All that had changed about a year ago, when the Ministry had been tasked with salvaging a derelict AFFS transport that had crash-landed on Norra Akarp, the barren terrestrial world closest to Panzyr II’s sun. The cargo had been recovered without any major issues, but when a computer specialist had re-activated the ship’s mainframe it had revealed a forty-five-ton discrepancy between the vessel’s manifest and the salvagers’ inventory. Montagne had assured the Marquis that the data must have been corrupted, and Pierre-Louis had been happy to believe him. The crash-landing had ravaged the ship’s systems, and its electronics had been exposed to Norra Akarp’s corrosive atmosphere for many years. The fact that the ship’s computer had been re-activated at all had been a minor miracle. On its own the incident would have been merely unusual, but a similar event had occurred two months later, when an arctic explorer had stumbled across a previously undiscovered Capellan Leopard buried in ice near Panzyr II’s north pole. The ship’s flight recorder had indicated it was one of a pair, and a month later its twin was discovered less than a hundred miles south of the original. Both had attempted a clandestine landing, and both had fallen victim to Panzyr II’s debris field. Montagne had reported that the contents of both vessels’ mech bays had burned up on re-entry, but when the Marquis had read the Salvage Bureau’s report he had noticed that the amount of scrap metal extracted from the wrecks was unusually large – over a hundred tons more than would have been expected from a pair of ships whose cargo had been vaporised. His suspicions roused, the Marquis had ordered his security service to conduct a secret investigation into the Salvage Bureau. Their agents had uncovered a smuggling ring whose size and complexity dwarfed any that had come before. The incidents with the Leopards and the AFFS transport had been just the tip of the rot that had taken hold within the Bureau – a rot that had been carefully cultivated by Minister Montagne himself. The Minister had been stealing weapons, ammunition and even battlemechs for years, but like many criminals, his continuing success had made him sloppy, and the Marquis’s investigators had been able to amass a sizeable tranche of evidence against him. The Marquis sighed and ran a hand through his iron-grey hair as he considered how to proceed. Both Superintendent Gascoigne and his own sense of prudence favoured detaining Montagne immediately. Stockpiling weapons and battlemechs was not simply a matter of theft - it was a potentially treasonous accrual of military assets, and rulers who did not nip such matters in the bud tended to lose their thrones. On the other hand, the report also indicated that most of those assets were due to be sold off at a secret auction. A partial list of invitees suggested it would be well-attended by black marketeers, pirates and other criminals. If the auction was allowed to go ahead, the security service could raid the gathering and snatch up not just Montagne but dozens of other miscreants and wanted men. If all went well, it could set organised crime in the Aurigan Coalition back by a decade or more. Pain began to spread through the Marquis’s cheeks as he continued to bite down. His head told him to act at once, but his heart strenuously objected. Pierre-Louis had been fond of gambling in his youth, and his old instincts told him that waiting would be a good bet. -- quote:Etienne Decimis focuses on improving his long-range combat skills! Gains the ‘Rangemaster’ SPA! -- Next Mission Briefing:  Player Mechs: Things are slightly different this time – players have a choice between their character’s usual mechs or an alternative. Please let me know which one you want to take! Otter Madness:  Captain Foo:  Amechwarrior:  Space Kablooey:  Map:  Returning players, please let me know if you need me to re-send you the Primer / Quickstart rules! Information is Ammunition: Attention players! If you would like your mech to carry less than the maximum amount of ammunition into the upcoming mission, please let me know so that I can make adjustments.
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Jan 5, 2024 07:22
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Mothball that black knight, sit on it for 35 years.Azhais posted:(I'm a fan of the OSR-2C tho)  That's a great mech in this era. Mostly energy, narrow profile, common parts. Everything you could hope for in 3015
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Jan 5, 2024 07:42
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A working Beagle? Man I sure hope there are no ROM agents in earshot 
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Jan 5, 2024 08:05
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Looking at the movement profiles of each lance, I'd put the Ostroc in Sable Lance once it's fully repaired. 5/8/0 would make for a good anchor for that relatively speedy lance. Modifications-wise, there are a couple of changes that could be made depending on the thread's preferences.
anakha fucked around with this message at 08:21 on Jan 5, 2024 |
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Jan 5, 2024 08:17
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That's a hell of an upgrade for Turgot, going from the Hornet to a Firestarter. Should be interesting on this map. Love the writeup as always Scintilla, the dropship scene was wonderful.
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Jan 5, 2024 09:40
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I'll take the BJ-1DB please. The JJ and more consistent damage make up for the difference in armor. I've never had great luck with the CN9-AL anyway. That Improved Targeting Short makes me give it a second look, but the mobility of the BJ-1DB is too good to pass up. Also, that's a beautiful map!
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Jan 5, 2024 11:04
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It's kind of hard to pass up jump jets and an AC20 on an assault Mech for this map. Most of the buildings are height 3 as well...
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Jan 5, 2024 13:50
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FASUZRYs0fM
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Jan 5, 2024 14:10
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Yeah, this map will be murder without jets. Take the jet option!
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Jan 5, 2024 14:18
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Amechwarrior posted:Also, that's a beautiful map! Thanks, it took a while to make. Implementing a grid-based street plan on a hexagonal map was a bit of a challenge. I would also have liked to make the map itself a bit bigger, but 30x30 is about the limit before it becomes table-breaking.
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Jan 5, 2024 14:42
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Scintilla posted:Thanks, it took a while to make. Implementing a grid-based street plan on a hexagonal map was a bit of a challenge. I would also have liked to make the map itself a bit bigger, but 30x30 is about the limit before it becomes table-breaking. Yes, I know that pain. I made a megamap (5x5 map sheets) a decade or so ago and getting the roads to connect at the right spaces and still have sensible urban centers was the worst part. That and I'm about to start GMing for Lancer and I'll have to go back to making hex maps again. I'm probably going to steal that road layout at some point.
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Jan 5, 2024 14:50
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I have no jets either way (hunchback pilot here). Hard to argue against a swayback. Far more firepower even if it’s not as chunky as the ol 4G
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Jan 5, 2024 15:25
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