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Yurik Scraglagger The Inferno Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 "Grooooiiiiiinnnnnn!!!," Yurik shouted as he dove for cover, the disappointingly inert metal puddle and much of the surrounding farm vanishing beneath a roaring deluge of burning promethium. "You mush-brained, malfor-AHHHHH!" Another gout of flames cut off his impending tirade as he scrambled backwards with a shriek. The Loremaster had already experienced the indescribable agony of being burned alive once already this evening, something that he was unfortunately never going to forget, and he had no desire to experience it again. "Run for it! Every scrunt for himself!" Experiment thoroughly abandoned, Yurik paused only long enough to snatch a bandoleer of grenades from the haphazard pile of salvage before running as fast as he could to join Mung, neither knowing or caring that the technoscrunt was currently ripped off his tits on drug-laced fuel, only that the promise of escape from the conflagration awaited him. *** Yurik is skedaddling and grabbing the bandolier of Iron Eater Grenades, he'll join Mung along the way. Here is a thing that may become relevant shortly, namely how Yurik's Foreboding power works. The tl;dr version is that it's like a psychic dodge, I get to use the test for Foreboding as a substitute for Evasion attempts, which is good for me because buying up Dodge or Parry would be real expensive but psychic poo poo is cheaper and easier for me to jack up. If I use it at Fettered (i.e. no chance of goofy psychic bullshit happening) then my effective Evasion rating is: Perception -10 (so 26) +10 for a psy focus (36) +5 for each level of Psy Rating being used (Psy Rating 3, divided by two rounded up for Fettered is 2, so +10) Giving me an effective Dodge of 46. I will note this in future combats to make schlong's life easier, but if you ever need Yurik to dodge something then this is currently his default rating. But for this particular scenario I'm going to take some of the limiters off and use it at its normal non-Fettered rate, so Yurik's Dodge is actually 51...but if he rolls doubles on his Evasion roll then it's Psychic Phenomena time.
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Oct 14, 2015 21:46
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Yurik Scraglagger The Tunnel Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 "...and I say we needed to turn left back at the bendy bit in the road!," Yurik shouted as he tumbled from the cab of the tanker, possibly due to a thoroughly exasperated Mung having had enough of the Loremaster's backseat driving after ten drug-fueled hours navigating winding roads through the dark and rain. Yurik landed with a squelch in the mud, shaking his gnarled fist and spitting curses as he stood up and shook his robes out, then glanced up and noticed with some satisfaction that they had finally arrived at the entrance to the underground tunnel network they'd chanced upon earlier. "Y'see?," he said, adjusting his thinkin' cap with one hand. "I told ya' I knew how to get us here." So situated, Yurik proceeded to do what he was best at...ordering others around while avoiding any actual work himself. "All right, you lot! Let's get our rides outta the wet an' outta sight! You! And you!," he shouted, jabbing his stick randomly at various knots of scrunts as they boiled forth from limousines and armored transports. "We need some camouflage! Go get some mud an' green shite an' whatever else you can round up and slap'em all over the vehicles! The outsides only!" Now get crackin'! *** Yurik is ordering the scrunts to move the vehicles somewhere out of the rain, whether it's under the overpass or other convenient overhangs, as well as slathering them with a scrunty layer of improvised camouflage. He will, of course, be joining the other PC scrunts in the scouting party as well.
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Oct 27, 2015 01:43
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Yurik Scraglagger The Tunnels Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 And then they were in the tunnels. "Fack it's dark in here," Yurik muttered to himself as he rummaged through his pack for a glowglobe, powering up the inconveniently shaped illumination device and banishing the surrounding darkness. He held his trusty thinkin' stick at the ready with his other hand, and across his chest lay a hastily resized bandolier of grenades. When he'd emerged into the wan daylight and noticed that the grenades he'd managed to salvage from the now-exploded farm bore the telltale starburst mark of yet more Iron Eater grenades he'd spent several minutes locked in an unpleasantly sweaty series of flashbacks to his agonizing "death" by concentrated acid, but once he'd stopped hyperventilating he quickly decided that no other scrunt could be trusted with such a thing and so had elected to hang onto them himself. Speaking of which, the other scrunts were presumably taking a moment to wind down in the adjoining maintenance tunnel out of the rain where they'd left them. Various other scrunts had been tasked to keep an eye on them and discourage them from, for example, causing any earth-shattering explosions while they were away...Yurik had left Hack behind to keep an eye on things as well, his assistant rasping and retching in acknowledgement before skittering off in search of weaker scrunts to bully. But now it fell to him (and some of the others, he supposed) to scout out the tunnel network they'd barely investigated the last time they were here. Though rich with slamite and festooned with the occasional illusionary corpse, the remainder of the tunnels was an as-yet unplumbed mystery, and if they didn't return with word of some place suitable to house several hundred hung-over, bedraggled, and ornery scrunts then it was entirely possible that not even his abundant knowledge and boundless leadership capabilities would be able to prevent the discontentment from being violently evicted from their erstwhile home from blossoming into an ugly, foul-smelling riot. And so the scrunts pressed on, into the unknown. *** And into the tunnels we go. Yurik's got a glowglobe in one hand, stick in the other, and is using his naturally absorbent sense of perfect recall to chart a map of the tunnels in his head as we go.
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Oct 29, 2015 05:42
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Yurik Scraglagger The Tunnels Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 It was a tense few moments as the light from various illumination devices fell upon the trio of hunched, furry forms lying up ahead until closer inspection revealed them to be thoroughly dead and not merely asleep or laying a cunning ambush. Yurik cautiously scuttled forward, frowning and peering at the vaguely lapine corpses. Two of them appeared to be as offputting as the one they'd discovered during their earlier foray, which had upon more thorough inspection shown to be the result of some innate ability to make itself look differently disgusting to different observers, but the third one seemed like an ordinary corpse, if a bit on the scrawny side. The broken body of what appeared to be some sort of servitor also lay nearby, its cybernetic body riddled with oozing bite marks. Perhaps it had killed the wolf-creatures and the rest of their...pack? Clutch?...had killed it in turn. Of course the tunnels would have to be full of dangerous wildlife (the servitor was admittedly unexpected) but for now nothing was leaping out of the darkness to savage them and so, whacking the side of his head with his hand a few times to silence the cacophony pouring in through the microbead nestled in his ear, he took advantage of the opportunity to wander even closer and begin poking and prodding at the corpses with his thinkin' stick, putting all of his prodigious intellectual talents to use as he pondered one of the great questions of this, or any other, time...what the hell is up with this thing anyway? *** Yurik is going to investigate the corpses for answers related to A). their cause of death and B). whatever other weirdness they happen to hold. I'm going to use Scholastic Lore: Beasts this time and I will take a good 10 minutes or so to put Foresight to good use, giving me an overall TN of 53. And of course I roll an 88 which is both three degrees of failure and leads me to believe that Orokos may have secret fascistic leanings. We're going to end the campaign not knowing anything about these loving things beyond the fact that they're kind of gross. Investigating the servitor seems more like a job for Mung and so I'll leave it to him. Kai Tave fucked around with this message at 09:30 on Nov 3, 2015 |
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Nov 3, 2015 07:48
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Yurik Scraglagger The Tunnels Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 Yurik harrumphed quietly at the annoying and vaguely disconcerting sensation of Grumb Slanger being knowledgeable as the gunlugger proudly displayed hithertofore unknown skill at forensic reconstruction analysis ("There was a dangol FIREFIIIIIGHT!"). The mysteries of Malibrathia-3's fauna continued to elude him. What was it that gave them such phenomenally off-putting appearances, seemingly different in each viewer's eyes? Why were they down here in the tunnels, where prey of any sort seemed nonexistent? Why were servitors down here hunting them? All this potential knowledge tantalizingly close and yet just out of reach...it was enough to drive a scrunt mad. Fortunately Yurik was already well on his way to being madness and so the sensation wasn't an unfamiliar one. Nonetheless it gnawed at him until they had rounded the last bend in the tunnel and Drekk began gesticulating in a way which suggested that the faint sounds coming from further on in the darkness were, in fact, from potentially dangerous xenofauna and not just products of his overactive imagination. While Drekk and Grimply scouted ahead with as much stealth as scrunts were generally capable of managing, Yurik steadied himself and took a deep breath...and as he exhaled he sent the restless, grimy tendrils of his mind questing outward into the darkness, ignoring the imperfect nature of his five normal senses in favor of his imperfect sixth sense as he attempted to pierce the gloom with his mind's baleful, beady eye. *** As a Full Round action I am going to use Psyniscience in an attempt to more accurately suss out the location of any weird, vaguely psychoactive rabbit-wolf monsters lurking in the darkness using THE POWER OF MY MIND. The base TN for this is 36, modifiers are a mystery at this time, but I roll a 31 which means I actually score at least 1 DoS on this even if there aren't any positive mods I'm unaware of. Kai Tave fucked around with this message at 21:34 on Nov 16, 2015 |
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Nov 13, 2015 09:18
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Yurik Scraglagger Dogpocalypse Now Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 "Billions...and billions..." Yurik muttered, eyes wide and unseeing as blood dripped down his beard. He spasmed, reflexively tightening his grip upon his thinkin' stick as he tamped down on the urge to let out a scream... ...oh. Oh right, hang on. Just pull back a bit... There, that was much better. The psycrunt took a moment to steady his breathing, though his heart continued to hammer in his chest as he adjusted the focus of his mind's eye and took a less-closer look at his psychic surroundings. There, there...aaaand there? It was blurry and indistinct, but he could sense the psychic emanations of even more of the creatures lurking further back in the cavern. Perhaps much more. "There's more of'em deeper in!," he hissed over the microbead as well as to anyone within earshot, scuttling forward to position several of the other scrunts between himself and the potential baying tide of fangs and claws poised to come boiling out of the darkness. "Down that way, that way, and a whole fackin' lot of'em that way!," he said, jabbing a finger down the central tunnel that Mung, Drekk, and Gumbo were scouting. At this rate they were going to be swarmed by the creatures, and given the remains of the servitor they'd found he knew that they weren't especially friendly. "Groin...Groin!," he hissed as the operator began to vibrate and froth, quietly grabbing hold of him by the vest and quietly shaking him to snap him out of it. "Stop spazafrazzin' out and come gimme a hand with this...we're gonna set us up a blockade." He gestured for the other scrunt to follow him a short way around the bend of the tunnel, checking to make sure it was clear before setting his glowglobe and thinkin' stick upon the ground and fishing around his collection of bricabrac and oddments, "Here," he said, handing Groin a pair of sinister looking traps lined with jagged metal teeth. "Y'lay these out like so..." *** Okay, so Yurik has a bunch of Mantraps and a snare mine that he hasn't used so far and I think I'd like to go ahead and do something with those IF AND ONLY IF he has time to do so before combat starts, as I don't wish to be caught with my proverbial pants down (as opposed to Grumb who will be caught with his literal pants down). I am going to have him booby trap the leftmost tunnel, the one Groin is currently lurking by, and I will pressgang Groin into helping me and also try to keep him from freaking out. I'll set all three of my mantraps and the snare mine up so as to catch any creatures that come running from that tunnel, whereupon hopefully we can shoot them at our leisure and not get flanked from three sides at once.
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Nov 17, 2015 23:41
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Yurik Scraglagger Dogpocalypse Now Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 The best laid plans of sump-rats and scrunts often went awry, usually because someone started shouting and shooting off incredibly noisy ballistic weaponry in caves full of sound-amplifying mystery metal, and this plan was no exception. Yurik shouted something vituperative about Grumb's heritage but it was lost in the din of autocannon fire and flamer discharges, the darkness of the tunnels briefly punctuated by flashes of light that revealed gleaming eyes and far too many teeth for his liking. C'mon!," he shouted, urging his pressganged battle-buddy Groin on as they scurried towards the leftmost tunnel branch, the Loremaster's knobby hands frantically rummaging through his scrunt-satchel of oddments. "Fack oh fack oh fack oh fack," he muttered as he tossed junk this way and that, bits of wire and scraps of half-eaten parchment scattered across the cavern floor, until he found what he was looking for with a triumphant cackle. Yurik's ingrained intellect carried with it a vague understanding of Imperial military equipment and the operation thereof, in a strictly theoretical sense. The strange device that he had acquired somewhere along the way was, as best he could determine, some sort of proximity detonator system designed to be used to set up traps by pairing it with an explosive device of some sort. Whether it would work with scruntmade explosives remained to be seen, and he would have preferred a chance to experiment in a situation where they weren't in danger of being eaten by the local wildlife, but needs must. Grabbing one of his incendiary grenades he quickly set the trap up, slapping his grenade in the detonator casing and twisting the activation ring before planting it where it could catch any creatures attempting to flank them from the leftmost tunnel. "Fire in the hole!," he shouted, as was customary whenever one did anything grenade-related. "I know! I'n'it GREAT!?," shouted Mung in reply, the technoscrunt cackling madly as he sent flaming promethium jetting down the tunnels in a drug-fueled, wolfrabbit-murdering frenzy. *** DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:ok so: groin goes before yurik, so what would actually happen is that groin moves, and sticks his thumb up his rear end for the remaining half action. yurik will then come along and ready his mines; groin has taken all his actions, and thus cannot also take a mine/trap Yurik and Groin are doing this. Snare mine has a firebomb in it. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!
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Nov 27, 2015 04:03
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Yurik Scraglagger Dogpocalypse Now Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 With a click and a beep and an incongruously soothing green light, the snare mine activated, scruntmade incendiary bomb snugly wedged into its housing and awaiting detonation. Detonation which Yurik realized only a second later that he was squarely within the range of. Barely pausing to snatch up his thinkin' stick from where he left it against the wall he scuttled away from the proximity mine's destructive radius as quickly as his knobbly knees could carry him, and it was only a fleeting glimpse of multifaceted eyes and chitinous claws glinting ominously down the rightmost tunnel that brought him up short. Yurik was no stranger to the occasional psychotic break...bending the Immaterium to one's will wasn't without its side-effects...but he was fairly certain that he hadn't done anything yet that would be causing him to see Grimply as an insectoid abomination, a hideous fusion of scrunt and bug whose very existence was an affront to sanity. So either these dog-creatures had some sort of transformative venom that they'd somehow missed until now or Grimply had elected to partake in some EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG of his own. Once they were finished loving around down here, Yurik noted idly to himself as all hell continued to break loose around him, he really needed to make some time to figure out just what was in those injectors. *** Half action to grab my thinkin' stick, half action to get as far away from the impending explosion as possible.
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Dec 10, 2015 07:52
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Yurik Scraglagger Dogpocalypse Now Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 Satisfied that the western tunnel was currently defended against dograbbit incursion, Yurik adjusted his thinkin' cap with a push of his hand and rolled up his mental sleeves, preparing to weigh in on matters himself. Tromping around in some tunnels burning creatures alive was fun and all, but it had been a long and tiresome drive from the farm and he was a scrunt with plenty on his plate...this strange and frequently hostile world was like a nice juicy sump-rat, bursting with all sorts of tantalizing secrets to uncover just waiting for him to sink his teeth into them. Literally as well as metaphorically. But before he could do any of that they had to finish killing these whatever-they-weres now so they wouldn't have to worry about killing them later. A little more fire added to the mix would do the job nicely...but as Yurik began to muster his mental energies his blood ran cold as he heard a roaring rumble building within the eastern tunnel. At first he took the sound for the imminent arrival of some brand new creature, a superpredator version of the ones they were busily exterminating, but then his blood ran even colder as he realized that was no dograbbit...that was the sound of cannonfire. One cannon in particular. "Abandon tunnel!," he shouted too late to do any good for those scrunts still stuck in the tunnel, but it was the thought that counted. "The sound's reverbifractin'! Move, ya' eedjits! It's a slamquake! Grimply! Grimply!," he called out to one of the few scrunts he actually found tolerable, jumping and waving frantically. Perhaps some remnant of Grimply's original scruntish mind was still conscious or perhaps the insectoid predator that he had temporarily become was simply attracted to the sounds coming from the meat-creature with the funny metal hat, but Grimply nonetheless turned and regarded him...namely by turning his head a complete 180 degrees to do so. "This way, Grimply! Y'gotta move! Follow the soothin' sounds of my voice!" The dograbbits could no doubt sense what was coming as well, scampering towards the main tunnel to escape the impending sonic assault. With a deep breath Yurik mustered his mental energies, greasy electricity arcing from his thinkin' cap to the slamite-infused tunnel walls as he reached out with his brain, seeking the mind of one of the dograbbits hot on Grimply's heels...and when he found what he was looking for, he grabbed hold of the threads making up its perceptions of reality and twisted. *** Half action to scuttle upwards a bit in Groin's general direction, a half action to use Hallucinate, which has a range of 10 meters per point of Psy rating. I'd have liked to use Dominate but the range is only half that and I can't quite make it without pushing. Overall TN for this at Fettered is 70 and it's an opposed Willpower test, success means that the target is affected as if by a Hallucinogen Grenade for Psy Rating/2 rounds. So only a single round since my effective Psy rating when Fettered is 2 (3 divided by 2 round up) and so I imagine that since 2 is my effective Psy rating at the moment that it's halved even further. So the dog will have 1 round of going bonkers if it connects, hopefully leading it to be stuck in the tunnel when the slamquake hits. I'm targeting one of the dogs nearest Grimply. That's a 20, so 6 DoS? I feel pretty good about that.
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Dec 19, 2015 08:55
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Yurik Scraglagger Dogpocalypse Now Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 Yurik cackled as he admired his handiwork, savoring the heady thrill that came from (mentally) beating up something weaker than himself. The stench of roasting meat and burning hair filled the caverns, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in a while except for a loose handful of papers earlier, but there were still more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. Grimply had scree'd and vanished around the corner and out of sight, which given his murderous metamorphosis was perhaps a better outcome all things considered, at least until the drug wore off. "There goes one of the Scruntfather's own mutants," Yurik mused to himself before a ferocious roar caused him to jump with an undignified squawk as something much, much larger than the other creatures made its presence known by swatting Drekk's shield aside with a massive paw. "Holy fack!" The last place that Yurik wanted to be was anywhere near that thing, but his current location was swiftly being crowded out by other creatures, both scruntile and non. Murdelia and Groin were both wrestling with canines that had broken through and were attempting to savage them in their jaws and so the Loremaster did the noble thing and left them both to die in order to cover his escape. He was positive it was what they would have wanted. Unfortunately this brought him even closer to the enormous beast that must have been this pack's leader, and a panicked spasm sent sparks crackling from his thinkin' cap as he hastily snatched another skein of mental threads and yanked without time to consider the consequences. *** Yurik is advancing northwards away from the melee, leaving Groin to be eaten by dogs. Then I'll use Hallucinate against the alpha dograbbit, same TN of 70, opposed Willpower roll, and I get a 33, a result which WOULD cause my now typical once-per-fight psychic phenomenon...except I'm using it at Fettered so there's no chance of manifesting psychic phenomenon so take that! If the alpha dograbbit fails its opposed Willpower roll against mine (4 DoS) then it hallucinates for one round.
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Dec 30, 2015 21:25
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Yurik Scraglagger Dogpocalypse Now Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 Yurik blinked as the massive dogbeast yelped, scrabbling around in the tunnel as it attempted to turn tail and flee. "Ha! That's right, ya' better fackin' run!," he shouted after it, recovering from his surprise at how well that had worked by acting as though it had been his intention all along (which it had, though "intent" and "practical outcome" were casual acquaintances at best when it came to the mysteries of the Warp). "C'mon then! Yer not so tough now, are ya'!?" he called out to the various burning, half-eaten corpses and whimpering, near-dead creatures littering the cavern floor. "Gimme yer best shot, ya' mangy, flea-bitten sacks o' shite!" *** Yurik is going to ready an action on his turn, namely a use of Hallucinate. He'll use it against any targets within range that A). make to attack him or B). suddenly appear from the far left tunnel I'M NOT METAGAMING SHUT UP.
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Jan 18, 2016 09:21
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Yurik Scraglagger Dogpocalypse Now Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 Losing one's grip on the fabric of reality was a disconcerting experience even for someone like Yurik, whose command of the Warp was as much drunken groping and sheer luck as it was the artful mastery of mind over matter. Somewhere an invisible string went "twang" when it should have gone "twung" and by the time the Loremaster realized what had happened it was too late to prevent the Immaterium from bleeding into reality. Quite literally as the walls, floor, and ceiling of the cavern surrounding them began to bleed profusely, as though the entire twisting series of tunnels had become the arterial passageways of some colossal creature. This was the least of his problems however, as the oversized dograbbit continued to barrel towards him, heedless to the grotesque tableau oozing into being around it. Yurik shrieked and frantically backpedaled, kicking up a spray of freshly instantiated gore before slipping and landing heavily on his rear end. He threw his arms over his head and braced himself for the sensation of massive jaws snapping shut around his tender skin...only to risk a glance through his fingers when the grisly end he'd been anticipating seemed to be taking longer than expected. The creature loomed over him, whimpering in confusion as it stared at its paws. Whatever it was currently seeing in its mind's eye, it found it to be a more pressing matter than mauling Yurik which suited the Loremaster just fine thank you very much. Bravely rallying (though outside observers would more likely describe it as "shouting shrilly and thrashing around in a pool of blood") Yurik grabbed his thinkin' stick and proceeded to flail madly in the beast's general direction, which he planned to do until it was very, thoroughly, and quite unmistakably dead. *** All-Out Attack against the big stunned dograbbit. Yurik's base WS is 26, that's +20 for All-Out Attacking, then the dograbbit being stunned is a further +20 for an overall TN of 66 (how appropriate), not counting any size bonuses it might give for being a bigger than normal target. Yurik's stick does normal mono melee weapon damage, 1d10+3 Impact, Pen 2
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Jan 31, 2016 09:57
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Yurik Scraglagger Dogpocalypse Aftermath Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 Yurik only stopped flailing away at the dog-creature when his weedy arms no longer had the energy to do so, breathing heavily as his thinkin' stick thunked into its skull one last time with a desultory squelch. His trembling body, much like the rest of the cave, was covered in blood, but for the moment there didn't appear to be any further creatures ready to lunge out at them from the darkness. Until Groin Sklunger dove at him, frothing and gibbering. "What the...FACK! Gedoff gedoff gedoff!" Yurik thrashed and scrambled backwards, slipping and skidding in the arterial puddles beneath his feet as the operator pounced upon him, sending the pair of them tumbling backwards in a scrunty tangle of limbs and beards. Unable to get a purchase upon him Groin half-slid half-skittered away down a nearby tunnel, hissing like an angry badger, until he apparently found something else to occupy his frenzied attentions, the sounds of cracking bones and meaty thumps echoing throughout the caverns. Yurik lay there for a moment, attempting to get his breathing under control once more before slowly pulling himself to his feet...just in time for Groin to come charging back into the main cavern, still hooting and hollering, maddened murderlust still visible in his one good eye as he made a beeline for Yurik once more. "THAT'S FACKIN' ENOUGH!" the Loremaster bellowed, blood-soaked body crackling with sparks as he slammed the end of his thinkin' stick upon the ground. Scrunts may be scrunts, but the ire of even a tiny, hosed-up psyker was a terrible thing to behold. The simmering resentment that had been building within him ever since the incident back at the farm came to a boil as Groin once again proved himself unable to calm his poo poo down. Maybe it was some lingering damage inflicted by Yurik's entirely scientifical and loremastery studies of the EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG that had lodged in Groin's brain, or perhaps Groin was simply kind of an uncontrollable idiot, but Yurik was far too bedraggled and blood-soaked to care at the moment. "Down!," he shouted sharply, his gnarled hand gripping something invisible, and Groin's legs shot out from underneath him. "Hjhjfgslajlajdldal!?," was the operator's confused reply as he scrambled back to his feet, shaking his head before lunging again... "Sit!" "HUWhwhdwkbadwjdyal!?" "Heel!" "Ppwojebrsbdabdkadll!?" "Play dead!" "UYeuisydjaauigradll!?!?!?" *** Yurik is currently making Groin fall over repeatedly until his mania wears off. I'm handling this entirely through ~forging the narrative~ since I'm pretty sure neither schlong or Moola really want to do eight more combat rounds, but Moola is free to have Groin turn the tables in suitable amusing fashion should he wish.
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Feb 6, 2016 23:01
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Yurik Scraglagger The Descent Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 Eventually even the most spiteful scrunt can grow bored, and Yurik was definitely a scrunt full of spite, but so it was that after psychically taking Groin's legs out from underneath him three or four dozen times, leaving a trail of Groin-shaped blood angels slapped into the cavern floor like some extremely heretical form of abstract art, the Loremaster finally relented once it seemed clear that the operator had finally worked his way down from indiscriminate madness back to his typical state of semi-coherent normality. Perhaps he had slammed him to the ground a few times even after that. Just to make sure. But as enticing as the prospect of farting around all day in a blood-slicked cavern full of bizarre, mutated corpses was, which is to say not very, Yurik had better things to do with his time which by extension meant the rest of the scrunts did as well. Fortunately there was no need to argue this point loudly and at length since they all seemed to be in agreement, and so they squelched their way further into the caverns after stopping to retrieve their various bits and bobs and reusable trip-mines (handy little device, that). Cleaning the surface of his glowglobe proved a fruitless task since there currently wasn't any part of his robes or his body which wasn't coated with blood and the light it cast along the slamite cavern walls was similarly crimson-tinged, lending things a sinister air. He paused by the mutated corpses that Murdelia and Gumbo were examining, briefly conferring with the two of them. More subjective uglification, this time on humies. Was it a contagion of some sort? His knowledge of diseases and maladies was, like much of his knowledge, eclectic and far-flung, but he couldn't conjure up any recollection of a disease that caused these sorts of symptoms. Mutations could do practically anything but mutations tended to be as fickle as the Warp that spawned much of them, and again he'd never heard of a mutation that spread in this fashion. Something was definitely up with this planet. Bearing this in mind he declined to take samples of the glowing fungus lining the walls on the off chance that it was responsible. Once they'd wrangled the rest of the scruntherd from wherever they'd inevitably hosed off to he could have one of them gather specimens for study, or possibly fermentation. He made mental notes of various points of interest as they wandered further down the caverns, an eidetic map etching itself upon his brain. More evidence that there was something suspicious about this planet (beyond the roving puddles of liquid metal and acoustic-amplifying ore deposits) could be found in the way the caverns themselves were formed, though only a scrunt with as finely honed a knowledge of planetary geology as himself would likely have noticed. Not that he could tell what might have caused such a thing, but the evidence was (sort of) clear. What also wasn't natural was the liftshaft. The tunnels had continued descending further and further almost to the point where Yurik had been about to suggest they turn back and look for another way to go, but when they emerged into the comforting glow of artificial lighting and rockcrete platforms his insatiable thirst for knowledge, as well as the innate scruntly desire to mess around with other peoples' stuff, would no sooner allow him to turn back than he could part Grumb Slanger from that oversized gun he kept cradling. "Well, c'mon! What're you lot waitin' for?," he said to whichever scrunts might be eyeing the unexpected lift with paranoid suspicion or who simply weren't moving fast enough for his tastes. "I told ya' there was somethin' down here worth exploring. Mebbe there's guns or drugs or somethin' good to eat that ain't all burned to shite 'cuz someone blew up our last base. Mebbe there's treasure." These various prospects were enough to entice even the most paranoid of scrunts (Groin) into cramming onto the lift platform. Yurik kept a recently untransformed and disoriented Grimply from being crowded with a few jabs with his thinkin' stick before throwing the switch and sending the lift plunging down deeper into the cavern...and when it finally ground to a halt at the bottom of the shaft, Yurik had to admit that he'd even managed to outdo his own expectations. A base! An actual base, not a run-down, Genestealer-infested farm. Imperial judging by the iconography (skulls accented with more skulls, along with skulls). Some kind of military staging outpost? It was certainly a remote one if so, but even that hadn't saved it from having the poo poo bombed out of it going by the scorchmarks lining the walls, not to mention the collapsed tunnels. Deep beneath the planet's surface, without an ablative layer of scrunts to surround himself with, Yurik was acutely aware that this would be a terrible place to die. Still, they'd come this far and hadn't been eaten or exploded, and his unscrunly lust for knowledge couldn't be denied. This was a proper mystery, and provided there was nothing waiting in the wings to devour or detonate them this could very well be the start of a Slam Sector to call their own. The cave-ins made choosing a direction a simple matter, and it wasn't until they arrived at another elevator shaft leading even further down (how deep did this complex run?) that they were confronted with something approximating choice. He pecked experimentally at the keyboard on a nearby data terminal, grumbling as it blatted at him uncooperatively. Cogitators, bah. Technoscrunt work. There were more tunnels, most of them collapsed and blocked off but a couple were still open. One led to an empty room that appeared to have been ransacked ahead of them and the other...well now, this was interesting. Someone had left a humie behind. A technohumie judging by the extensive (some might say excessive) cybernetics, Scruntfather only knew how long he'd been stuck down here. Now Yurik was, like most scrunts, generally xenophobic as a rule. Humies were deceitful, conniving, and far too tall for their own good, their only saving grace being edibility. But Yurik also knew that humies had knowledge and could, at times, be prodded into providing a canny scrunt with assistance until such time as one party inevitably betrayed the other. And right now they were in possession of something the humie on the far side of the airlock door wanted very much, namely access to the facility's controls. Maybe Mung could get things working again, maybe he couldn't, but as far as the humie was concerned Yurik and the other scrunts were his best hope of seeing something other than the same four walls for the rest of his life, which lent them something of a strong bargaining position to work with. Also if he was being honest, this particular humie didn't look very appetizing anyway. Still, first impressions were important. Straightening himself out, adjusting his thinkin' cap, and smoothing his blood-saturated robes, Yurik squelched over to the intercom panel and jabbed the transmit button with the end of his thinkin' stick before clearing his throat. "An' who," he said in scrunt-accented but mostly intelligible Gothic, "the fack are you?" *** Hello Leperflesh do not be afraid, we are here to
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Feb 16, 2016 07:50
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Yurik Scraglagger Some Other Base Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 Yurik hmm'd and stroked his scraggly, blood-streaked beard thoughtfully as he listened to what the servitor had to say. The only servitors he'd encountered before were nothing like the thing behind the airlock door, blank-faced drudges tromping this way and that in pursuit of menial tasks and certainly not nearly as chatty, but while Yurik's pool of knowledge was immensely wide it was only sporadically deep and so it was entirely plausible that this was simply a more advanced form of servitor that he'd never had the opportunity to encounter before. Leave it to humies to waste their time with all sorts of useless frippery. He agreed with Mung's assessment that there probably wasn't anything on the ambulatory collection of augmetics worth eating either, but it was only when it mentioned that the base they'd discovered had been used for research that the Loremaster truly started paying attention to what it had to say. "Research, eh? An' just what kinda research are we talkin' about, hmmmmm?" Those familiar with scrunts knew that according them intelligence was a debatable classification despite their status as official abhumans but that they nonetheless possessed a certain low (extremely, extremely low) cunning that made them hazardous to underestimate. The look in Yurik's maniacal red eyes was all the more disconcerting for the gleam of real, malicious intelligence found there. A research base! Fresh knowledge, waiting to be consumed (figuratively and perhaps literally). The sight of a scrunt with intellectual interest was an ill omen akin to watching an unevolved primate field-strip a lasgun...no good could ever come of such a thing. "Us scrunts ain't on anyone's fackin' side," he informed the servitor, "on account of ain't nobody altogether on our side. There's Severans around all right. Well, mebbe not as many as there used to be," he cackled wheezily, "but it sounds like you've been left behind. We can get ya' out of there," he nodded knowingly, by which he meant he would supervise while someone else freed the trapped servitor, "but in the meantime, howzabout you tell us all some more about this research a' yours. You investigatin' that liquid metal shite? Or that disease thingumy that makes folks look all kinds of facked-up dependin' on who's doing the lookin'? Or mebbe the rocks that play back loud noises even louder? Or," he went on with a look of feverish anticipation, "is it somethin' else entirely?"
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Feb 21, 2016 07:17
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Yurik Scraglagger Some Other Base Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 11/12 "Feh," Yurik harumphed. "Just 'cuz some fackin' longshanks with skulls stapled to his arse shoved me in a box an' tossed me off a spaceship, that don't make me part of some Astral Militaryum, ya' cybergenic scumdurgler! I know the only time humies every cozy up to scrunts is when they want somethin'...'go over here, go over there, go bother someone else, yer givin' me radiation poisoning, stop eatin' my baby,' do this, do that...an' now they think they can just up an' take the fackin' SLAM SECTOR from us by droppin' us all off on this shitehole of a planet with its dograbbits and ground full o' trees while they scarper off and steal it for themselves! Hah! Yer Astrological Millipedes wouldn't know how to slam a sector if ya' spotted'em a keg an' a hogtied grox!" "ALSO I KNEW YOU WERE A TECHPRIEST ALL ALONG, WHO SAYS I DIDN'T!?," he suddenly shouted, apropos of nothing. With a supreme force of will Yurik managed to calm himself slightly, taking a deep wheezy breath and phlegmily clearing his throat before continuing. "Anyway, so maybe your Assgrabbin' Militiamen think we're on they're side, so long as they don't start tryin' to take what's ours they can keep on thinkin' they're in charge. Hmm, but it sounds like mebbe you ain't so keen on humies yerself anymore, ain't that right mister 'I'm totally not a servitor?' That's what trustin' humies'll get ya'," he said, nodding sagely and stroking his scraggly beard. "Locked in an underground base, starvin' to death. So yeah, I think mebbe we can work ourselves out a deal." Yurik plainly had no love for humies (or for anyone else, for that matter), but the prospect of a...call it a research partner, someone who could understand him, was admittedly an exciting one. Murdelia and Mung were knowledgeable enough scrunts in their own way, very nearly tolerable in fact, but their areas of expertise were narrowly focused while this Surb seemed like someone he could confer with on more esoteric mysteries. So long as he understood who was really in charge, of Yurik would have to ruthlessly and utterly crush him. But that went without saying. "All right, now let's see about gettin' you outta there. An' then, well, you want samples? We can get you any kinda sample you want...s'long as it's dead," he chuckled. As he scuttled off to poke, prod, and antagonize the other scrunts into action he subtly pulled Mung aside, murmuring uncomfortably in the technoscrunt's ear. "That techpriest, he's got somethin' in his head called a voluminator implant," he said. "Some kinda brainlock guardin' who knows what. If we wanna find out what the humies were up to down here we need to find the right passcodes afore we can ask'im or else his brain'll kersplode. Mebbe there's somethin' like that on one of the cogitators down here if you can get any of'em workin' again. When you get around to it is all, but if you find anythin' that looks important, you'll let me know about it aye?"
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Feb 25, 2016 09:45
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Leperflesh posted:To discern Surb's sincerity or lack thereof, those at the console should roll a Scrutiny check. DJF will supply individualized results. I double-checked to make sure I have this and I do! At a base skill of 36, no less. Let's see if I can discern anything from Surb's statements re: truthfulness or lack thereof. 91 Seems legit.
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Feb 28, 2016 21:47
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Yurik Scraglagger Some Other Base Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 12/12 "Yer drat stinkin' 'umie!! I'll eat yer bones!!!" Grimply was a good scrunt, Yurik knew, insofar as anything to do with scrunts could ever be described as "good." He was a crack shot, a sneaky little bastard, and he hated humies as any Scruntfather-fearing scrunt should in Yurik's highly self-estimated opinion (though in truth most scrunts were more apathetic towards humans than anything else, Yurik simply hated most everyone and assumed everyone else did too), but for all of those very admirable qualities he lacked any appreciation for long-term planning, had no room in his heart for a nice, twisty scheme. No one was perfect of course (himself excluded), but he knew that until they devised some way of securing control of the base's facilities for themselves that a wary truce with the abandoned tech-priest was the simplest solution to their not-having-a-base-because-Groin-blew-it-up problem, which meant that as the wisest of the scrunts as well as their self-appointed leader and spiritual liege it was up to him to bring Grimply around to his way of thinking. "C'mere, c'mere," he said, draping a companionable arm uncomfortably around the raving sniper's bony shoulders and guiding him around the corner to an alcove where they could talk without being overheard. "Relax Grimply m'boy, relax. That there humie pro'ly dinnae have any bones in'im worth eatin', aye? Why I'd wager he ain't even ten percent humie by volume," he said, chuckling at his own joke. Grimply was unconvinced by this attempt at levity. "Consortin' with 'umies! Makin' deals wi' their metal-man whatzits! It's an abominablenation! It's blasphemy! A sin in th' eye o' the Scruntfather! His judgin' eye I tells ya'!" "Would ya' calm the fack down already!?," Yurik interrupted peevishly, rapping his thinkin' stick on the ground. "Look at the bigger picture! Yes, we're workin' with a humie...so's we can find bigger and better ways to kill even more humies! Usin' him as the instrument of his own downfall! Can't ya' see? It's what they call ironicism! That means it'll be extra funny when it happens!" But Grimply simply wouldn't be convinced, his fevered rantings warning of dire consequences and the untrustworthiness of humies and the holy SLAM growing more and more agitated, his fingers grabbing hold of Yurik's collar and shaking the Loremaster back and forth as foam began to fleck the corners of his mouth. Foam which was tinged an unhealthy shade of green, which was to say unhealthy even by scrunt standards. Yurik watched as Grimply's eyes grew unfocused and his grip grew slack before the sniper slumped to the floor, twitching and hyperventilating. "I feel...I feel it Yurik...th' Scruntfather, he's, he's callin' me to'im! It's finally my time! Finally...finally..." Yurik stood there in shock as Grimply's head lolled limply to the side, his eyes closing with a wheezy rattle. Time seemed to stand still for a long, wordless moment until one of Grimply's eyes popped open, glaring at the ceiling irritably. "I said it's finally my TIME!" When it was clear that no divine transcendence was forthcoming Grimply snarled and thrashed on the ground angrily, green slobber flying this way and that. "Whazza feckin' scrunt 'ave to do to get'is eternal reward aroun' 'ere!?" As Grimply's ranting trailed off into a series of convulsive coughs, Yurik quickly scuttled off in search of the only other scrunt who could help him now. "Murdelia! MURDELIA!," he shouted, one hand keeping his thinkin' cap firmly affixed to his head as he nearly bowled over the medic in his haste. "Somethin's wrong with Grimply! He's sick or he's poisoned or he's off his head! Maybe all of'em!" "Izzat right? Huh," Murdelia replied, her gaze narrowing thoughtfully. "Right, then. ARNIKAAAA!," she then shouted. "Grab yer pistol an' get the sack! We got us some triage to perform!" "No no no, fack-damnit!," Yurik yelled, slamming his thinkin' stick on the ground. "I'm tellin' ya' to fix'im up, not fix'im up!" "Ohhhhhh, right, gotcha," the mediscrunt said. "Never mind Arnika!" "Awwww..." All the while Yurik's multitudinous mind was racing...how had this happened? What could have caused it? An infection of some sort seemed unlikely, Grimply hadn't eaten anything the rest of them hadn't (so far as he knew), and they'd all been breathing the same air and wallowing in the same blood. Had he been poisoned by something? One of the dograbbits or weird mutants they'd found? Some of the other scrunts had suffered similar injuries though and none of them were expressing any symptoms. No, it wasn't a disease and it wasn't poison... At least not exactly. Yurik reached into his robes and pulled out the last remaining injector of EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG in his possession, glaring at it thoughtfully as he vividly replayed the memories of an insectile Grimply chittering and clambering along the walls and ceiling. Whatever it was that was sloshing around inside this innocuous injector was responsible for Grimply's condition, he was certain of it. Come to think of it Groin's mental state (such as it was) had notably deteriorated since he'd taken his first dose of the stuff, and the second inadvertent dose seemed only to have amplified those negative effects. Others had taken it as well, he knew, and so far seemed relatively unscathed, but that was all the more reason to start messily plumbing the depths of this particular mystery, before the same thing happened to Murdelia or Gumbo. Grumb, well...Grumb was an acceptable loss, if it came to it. "I saw on the map that this place has laboratories," he told Murdelia at last. "Research laboratories. Help me drag Grimply down to one of'em...I think it's high past time we did some researchin' of our own." *** Since Tin Tim is sick, I figure he won't mind if I carry that illness over to his scruntly counterpart. Verisimilitude! Also this provides Yurik with a great excuse to poke around the labs as well as jumpstarting some much-needed research on our good friend EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG. I have a lot of things on the backburner, like the Inquisitorial Mystery Box, but other people can actually poke at the box on their own and there's been enough nudging and winking to the effect of "hmmm boy that EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG sure is weird and mysterious, if only SOMEONE would actually try to figure out what is up with that hmmmm" that I feel like we should probably actually do a little of that now that we aren't killing dogs in caves anymore. If Murdelia would like to help with that it'd be grand since I figure that she and Yurik have the most applicable skillset, plus she's probably going to want to set up shop in one of the labs anyway for doing surgeries/cooking meth/etc.
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Mar 5, 2016 10:39
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Yurik Scraglagger Some Other Base Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Yurik handed Grimply off to Murdelia as quickly as possible...she was the medical expert of the bunch after all, and besides which if something like an unknown horrific disease were to lay him low then without his leadership and guidance the consequences for the scrunts at large could be disastrous...but he nonetheless watched from around the corner as she deposited him onto one of the surprisingly clean beds, Grimply's shivering body quickly undoing that cleanliness in an instant. Satisfied that the closest thing he had to a friend wasn't in imminent danger of being triaged to death and having his belongings stolen, he swiped a handful of assorted pills to fortify his immune system before wandering over to inspect the base's experimental labs. The sight which greeted him as he pried the door open with his thinkin' stick was enough to elicit a phlegmy tirade. All that knowledge, crushed by rocks. The labs themselves were intact at least, the demolition charges having failed to completely collapse the ceiling, but rubble and debris was strewn everywhere. There would be no making use of them until space could be cleared and equipment could be replaced. Another tirade ensued...how was a Loremaster supposed to research anything around here? The prospect of (ugh) manual labor loomed large, which caused something to nag at the back of Yurik's mind. He had the strangest sensation that he was forgetting about something. His thinkin' cap? No, it was still on his head. Stick? In his hand. The Iron Eater grenades he'd salvaged from the smoking crater that had once been a farm clanked unreassuringly close to his gribbly bits, so it wasn't those. Still, there was something that he was missing, he was sure of it. It was just on the tip of his tongue, started with an H... Snapping his fingers, a shower of greasy Warp-sparks erupting from thin air, Yurik whirled around and began quickly scuttling back towards the main part of the base. "Hack!," he shouted, unaware of whether Grug had returned with the rest of the scrunts or not but it never hurt to get some shouting practice in regardless. "Hack, get yer lazy rear end over here! I got work for ya' to get to! Haaaaaack!" *** Yurik is going to get the Research Labs back into some sort of functioning order. After this recent round of XP he now has the Logic skill at 43, which is enough to actually handle getting things up to the Tolerable Experimental Labs level all by himself. I will simply stick with bringing them up to barebones level for now to save supplies for other peoples' projects as well as general scrunt livability. First opportunity these are getting bumped up to at LEAST Tolerable. I still want to investigate EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG but I also want to give other peeps some opportunities to do some base repairs and stuff, and we're missing a few things I'd like before we get started, namely I'd like some live dograbbit test subjects and at least one live human test subject. Surb doesn't count. Instead I'll go ahead and make one stab at unlocking the Inquisitorial Mystery Box using another day/supply by applying Scholastic Lore (Cryptography) to the problem at -30. I'm assuming that Foresight still counts for this so -20 overall, giving me a TN of 23, not too likely to succeed but every bit counts. I get an 18. Huh. Open sesame, I guess. So while schlong prepares to finally tell us what's in the box and y'all decide what improvements you'd like to enact, we need to be thinking about our next big supply raid/mission. Remember back at the farm? My loot was a map of the local area and detailed information on two non-star points of interest thereon. Unless I miss my guess we're somewhere in the intersection of those two major slamite veins. I put a pin in this since poo poo was exploding and on fire but now that we're safe(ish) and need to go steal some more stuff, I'm going to go ahead and make one of my detailed information picks the MANUFACTORUM COMPLEX in the southern part of the map. A place like that probably has a lot of stuff we could use aside from generic supplies such as machine tools, industrial supplies, high-tech equipment, even servitors. It's also on a highway route for speedy travel. I'm assuming the little lasgun icon nearby means absolutely nothing bad at all. However this leaves me with one more pick for more info, an extra place we can get some more detail on and potentially go raid, and I'd like to solicit some suggestions/requests on that front so if there's a place you totally wanna go then say what it is. It looks like we've got a refinery, an airbase, a couple cities, a lab complex, something designated Off Limits (lol yeah right), some loyalist Mechanicus peeps, a vehicle staging area, two unspecified points of interest, and a Necron death forest.
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Mar 8, 2016 03:20
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Yurik Scraglagger Some Other Base Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map No other scrunt, Yurik knew, could possibly understand what this felt like. The cogs in his brain spinning at breakneck pace as the pieces of a puzzle coalesced into a complete picture, the breathless sense of surety and purpose that came from pitting his mind against seemingly insurmountable odds and triumphing, proving his intellectual superiority...it was the closest thing to sex he was ever likely to experience. His elation at solving the longstanding mystery of the unopenable box was short-lived however, the deciphered text raising more more questions than it answered. "Ain't that always the way?," Yurik thought to himself as he turned the new nuggets of information over in his head. Of course he knew of the Inquisition, even the most backwater, primitive Imperial citizen was at least vaguely aware of a sinister organization of people with funny hats and dour dispositions who liked to set people on fire at the slightest provocation, but the knowledge that had been crammed into Yurik's brain was quite a bit more detailed than that, if rather haphazardly organized. That the Inquisition was interested in Malbrathia-3 wasn't surprising in and of itself, it was probably quicker to list the known worlds that the Inquisition didn't have some interest in, but that word "Exterminatus"...that was more of a cause for concern. Terms like "cyclonic torpedoes" and "life-eater virus" began to bubble up from the composting sludge of information pooling at the back of his mind. The order to destroy an entire planet wasn't one to be undertaken lightly, he knew. If it was then there'd be a lot fewer planets out there, for starters. So for it to even be brought up at all in the context of Malbrathia-3, an otherwise unassuming world caught up in an otherwise unassuming slog of a war, meant something else was a factor beyond the Severans. Did it have to do with the Genestealers? That was definitely a possibility, the association between that species and annihilating all life on an entire world tugging faintly at his brain. Or did it have to do with the strange liquid living metal they'd encountered back at the farm, this Necron stuff? Or was it something else altogether? Mysteries on top of mysteries, and like a junkie scrabbling for his next fix Yurik wouldn't be satisfied until he had found the answers to them. Answers that would, for the moment, have to wait. Everyone was busy settling into their newly acquired (and hopefully far more fireproof) base, licking things and nicking whatever wasn't bolted down, but they were dangerously short on supplies. The giddy feeling of having stolen something big was going to wear off soon, followed by the far less happy feeling of wondering what was for dinner. Between this, that, and the other, a Loremaster's work was never done. *** "...an' so that's the situation," Yurik said to the gathered group of scrunts huddled around what had, in a former life, been the base's ready room. Technically this was Gumbo's territory, but the sergeant (or whatever rank he was calling himself these days) had agreed to the meeting. All of the senior scrunts were present, including Mung whose chest and face were wrapped in pilfered gauze and Grug who hadn't actually been invited but who had shown up regardless. Surb was there too as a "special advisor" of sorts. The ancient saying "keep your friends close and your enemies closer" would have been more apt if Yurik actually had any friends to begin with, but the principle was largely the same...he wanted the humie tech-priest where he could keep an eye on him. "We've got about a week's worth of stuff left, mebbe a bit less. After that those eedjits out there are gonna start eatin' each other 'less we find'em something to eat instead." "I found doggies!," Grug declared to the table at large, beaming happily to himself. "Uhhh, well I suppose that counts as someth-" "AND THEY'RE GONNA BE MY FRIENDS!," the corpulent scrunt shrieked, his demeanor shifting from "repulsive buffoon" to "collector of hand crafted skin-masks" in an instant. A tense silence hung over the table for a moment until Grug let an enormous fart rip before settling back into his seat, all smiles once more. "The nice ones, anyway! The rest can be friends with our tummies!" Yurik slowly scooted his makeshift seat several feet away as Grug stared into space, patting his stomach and murmuring happily to himself. Even by scrunt standards he found the most recent addition to their ranks to be incredibly disturbing. "Anyway, as I was sayin', we need to start makin' some plans." With that he unrolled the map he'd been able to salvage across the table, weighing the corners down with chunks of rock and empty ammunition containers. "There's stuff to be had all around us, we just hafta go out and get it. Like here," he said, tapping a spot he'd circled on the map with his thinkin' stick. "There's a manufactorum a hunnert-an-somethin' miles down thataway. Big place, probably got all sorts of stuff we need. Machinery, knives, more machinery, spare parts, servitors...actual servitors," he added, fixing Surb with a pointed look before continuing on. "'S not gonna be easy though. They've got a fackload of humies dug in guardin' the place. If we want the good stuff we're gonna have to go through'em. We could go around the long way an' grab some stuff out of these warehouses easier, but that's a lotta fuel burned for a tiny fackin' haul." He then gestured to the various other points of interest scattered about the map. "But that ain't all there is, though. There's a refinery not too far north of here, an' we lost a fair bit o' fuel when someone blew it the fack up," he said, this time turning his baleful stare towards Groin. "An' there's other stuff too, might be some more information on some of it I ain't properly digested yet. Whichever an' however we decide to go with things, we're gonna need to do it quick-like if we wanna turn this place into a proper piece o' Slam. An' how 'bout you?," he asked Surb, jabbing the tech-priest in the general region of his chest with the end of his thinkin' stick. "You know anything interestin' about these places? Hmmmmmmmmm?" *** Yurik isn't really going to be of much help to Grumb's project, nor would he want to be. Instead if Moola/Groin wishes to do some work on the vehicle bay bringing it up to Tolerable since Mung is recuperating from open-source heart surgery then Yurik will assist him. If Groin just wants to dick around then Yurik will instead bring the Experimental Labs up to Tolerable all on his ownsome. Both of these projects will take 2 days/resources to complete. Yurik is also questioning Surb concerning various points of interest on the map, fishing for details outside of my remaining loot pick like the filthy munchkin powergamer I am. Unless his answers seem especially evasive or suspicious there probably won't be much reason for me to roll Scrutiny but maybe Surb just straight up doesn't know poo poo. Still, there's mention of Loyalist Mechanicus on the map, and he might have information on various facilities for one reason or another, plus it gives Leperflesh an excuse to post. I'm sharing what I know about the Manufactorum Complex with everyone, you can assume you know it and also that you've had a look at the map. Start figuring out where you want to go next. The Manufactorum? The Refinery? Vehicle staging area? I'm good with pretty much whatever.
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Mar 15, 2016 04:13
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Yurik Scraglagger Some Other Base Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Yurik nodded sagely as his absorbent mind committed everything that Surb said to memory...his decision to keep the tech-priest close at hand was already paying off. "All right then, I agree with Gumbo," he said, lending the sergeant the considerable weight of his support. "Food an' fuel, we're gonna need both if we wanna tackle that manufactorum. We'll need to bring all the vehicles with us if'n we wanna take it head on and grab everything we can 'stead of pickin' at crumbs like a passel of sump-rats." Murdelia had shared her findings with him concerning the EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG. A little poking and prodding had revealed the cause of the strange wasting affliction affecting those that had used it. On the one hand it was convenient that they had the nuke on hand to satisfy the need for a little extra radioactivity, on the other hand it meant they couldn't actually use it without sourcing a replacement. And while the medic had discovered a way to alleviate the symptoms, she had yet to find a way to cure them entirely, which left those affected dependent on regular irradiated dirt infusions. There was still plenty about this drug they didn't understand, and Yurik knew that they weren't likely get to the bottom of it without some additional experiments...and to do that they needed additional experimental subjects. "We need to take some of them dograbbits alive," he added as the scrunts in charge made their plans for the raid, "an' some humies too. Not for food neither. Just a couple of each oughta do it, we can grab'em on the way. Don't worry," he said chuckling nastily, "they pro'lly won't be alive for long." *** Jumping on the refinery/dograbbit bandwagon, Yurik also wants living test subjects for highly unethical research experiments. If the scruntherd can be browbeaten into going and recovering hosed-up corpses from the tunnels for Surb to look at then he'll have them do so while we're off having magical adventures. Yurik will stress the importance of using sheets to carry things.
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Mar 29, 2016 01:04
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Yurik Scraglagger On The Road Again Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Yurik leaned back in the limousine's plush seating, bones popping disturbingly as he yawned and stretched. After days of ordering Hack around while the assistant Loremaster cleared the debris from the underground base's laboratory complex he was exhausted, but a Loremaster's work was never done. Now it was time to go lay in some more supplies in anticipation of raiding the Severan manufactorum to the east. Of course he wasn't going to be doing the driving on the way over...he had people for that. Well, one people assuming Hack counted as such. Surb had laid things out plainly enough that even Grumb could follow along. The refinery was relatively well-defended, but the real danger lay in the Severans calling for reinforcements, either from roaming recon patrols or from the nearby airbase. The memory of Valkyries unloading troops into the middle of the farm was still fresh in Yurik's mind and he had no desire to repeat that debacle. However there was an outflow pipeline which led right into the complex, bypassing much of the security, which would allow a suitable and willing group of scrunts to take control of the facility's main cogitator systems, effectively giving them control over everything from the alarms to the machinery. Yurik agitated vociferously for this option since it appealed to both his innate sadism as well as his need to prove himself cleverer than everyone else. Any fool scrunt could ram things into other things and shoot big guns like a moron (again, such as Grumb), but a stealth strike, now that took strategery, wits, cunning, conniving, and other such laudable qualities. It would also give them the chance to start properly scruntifying this planet. Yurik had to admit that Malbrathia-3 was growing on him, there were so many enticing mysteries to pry into, but the planet's ecosystem was distressingly free of chemical runoff, the air unnaturally sweet. This refinery unloaded a piquant slurry of various sorts into the lake, but he was sure that with a little tinkering they could do better. But that would have to wait. For now he had other matters to concern himself with, namely opening his all-powerful mind to the unfathomable vastness of the Warp. Ever since The Incident, Yurik had been blessed with occasional visions of events yet to occur, but they were sporadic and vague. So when he hadn't been busy supervising Hack, he had been spending his time at the base attempting to refine this latent talent into something more useful. A free-floating factoid drifting around the yawning chasm of his artificially-infused memories helpfully informed him that diviners often found it useful to channel their thoughts through some sort of focus such as the Imperial Tarot. Yurik had gone rummaging around the abandoned base in search of a suitable deck of cards that the soldiers might have left behind during their evacuation, but the only one he'd managed to rustle up was a battered and well-used deck emblazoned with "HOT-N-HUNKY HEROES OF THE IMPERIUM" on the back, the cards themselves showcasing a variety of humie men all rippling with a distressing amount of oiled muscles, each wearing revealing "uniforms" that were decidedly non-regulation. Simply gazing upon that much bare, bulging humie-flesh was an affront to his senses, but he was forced to admit that it did seem to be helping him focus much to his chagrin. *** Like all budding supervillains, what Yurik desires as far as long-term goals go is to (figuratively) immortalize himself and make an indelible mark upon the fabric of history for all time. How he wants to accomplish this has yet to be determined but it probably won't be very pleasant for anyone caught in the blast radius. We're talking something so big and eventful that even overworked Imperial savants are forced to sit up and take notice. It could be claiming the Slam Sector in the name of scruntkind, blowing up a planet or three, creating another Eye of Terror, whatever. Insofar as the refinery assault, Yurik also concurs that the best approach to things is exploiting the drainage tunnel. Also remember that we have a number of microbeads which allows us to coordinate our efforts between multiple groups. We can, for example, have Team Not Stealth create a distraction allowing Team Yes Stealth to complete their objectives easier, or if that runs the risk of alarms being raised we can have Team Yes Stealth notify the rest of us when they've finished so Team Not Stealth can ram our many vehicles into the unsuspecting guards. Also we have a comms jammer courtesy of Mung, and we should employ it liberally in order to continue to convince Severan high command that we're actually some sort of elite special ops unit instead of a gaggle of filth-exuding, goggle-eyed abhumans. Also because I am a powergaming rear end in a top hat (aka a psyker) I am going to use a NEW PSYCHIC POWER! It's called Scrier's Gaze and I'm just going to copy/paste what it does: quote:The psyker’s gaze is cast upon the infinite tides of the Warp, seeing the entire battlefield clearly in his mind’s eye. This rush of information is too much for weaker psyker’s to handle, often casting them into madness. But those who can focus are able to divine information regarding them battle with astounding precision, capturing every movement of troops and war machines under their omniscient gaze. So Yurik will do this on the limo ride over, his focus a pack of Imperium-issue beefcake model playing cards. The TN is a +0 Psyniscience test so 46 for the base, +10 for a Psy Focus, and +5x2 since I'm using the power at Fettered for an overall TN of 66 and I roll a 60. That's a single DoS, and here's what that gives me: quote:Single Threat: The psyker manages to focus his view on a single key manoeuvre the enemy is either planning, or currently enacting. This could be an ambush, an all out assault, or a flanking manoeuvre, but regardless of its nature, it is a key manoeuvre to the enemy’s plans.
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Apr 3, 2016 06:43
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Yurik Scraglagger Signs And Portents Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Yurik gasped as the waking vision that had fallen over him suddenly ended, causing his gnarled body to jerk, scattering cards all over the floor of the limousine, but though the vision may have ended it was clear by the maddened look in his eyes that the Loremaster was still somewhere else entirely. "The sword above!," he cried out, startling the limo's other occupants who had all been doing their best to pointedly ignore the psycrunt hunched over a tableau of beefcake-bedecked playing cards, breathing heavily and drooling, but a stark raving outburst like this within an enclosed space created entirely new definitions of awkward, especially when he reached out and grabbed a random scrunt by the collar and shoved his face right next to his. "The sword! The FIST! The watchers weigh fortune's favor while the scales of balance teeter! The infestation spreads! The brothers of the cog! Three days hence the fire from the heavens comes to burn the traitors and open the way to the brothers of the cog! Secrets and broken words and and I can see...I see-" The rest of what he had to say was lost as he suddenly vomited profusely. By this point the remainder of the limo's occupants had pressed themselves as hard against the interior walls as possible in an attempt to avoid being a part of whatever was going on. They watched Yurik warily as the Loremaster seemed to snap out of his reverie, blinking and looking around the limo in confusion. "Whuzza? Whas goin' on?," he mumbled, wiping vomit from his mouth as his eyes came back into focus. He reached up with a gnarled hand and groped his unfortunate hostage's face with his hands several times to see if this was real or merely another vision, and once he was satisfied he released him with a nod and slumped back in his seat, gathering up the scattered cards and tucking them back into his robes as he processed what the Warp had shown him. As an awkward silence settled over the limousine he glanced around at the fearful scrunts watching him warily. "What? The fack are you lot starin' at?" *** Fortunately the rest of the ride had proven uneventful, which meant that the time was upon them to kill as many rabbity creatures as they possibly could before making their way to the refinery. "All right you sump-bellied lumpguzzlers, listen up!," Yurik said to the militiascrunts that were now intensely regretting their decision to ride along with the Loremaster. "Here's the plan! We've got a limo, an' we've got guns...so we're gonna drive as fast as we fackin' can an' shoot as many dograbbits as you can hit! Remember, no grenades, guns only! An' try to get a few alive if you can manage it!" Not every plan could be a brilliant tactical masterpiece. Yurik wasn't as stealthily inclined as Grimply or (for some reason) Groin so sneaking was right out, and while he was rather proud of his formidable mental powers they weren't, he was forced to admit, precisely useful for subduing mass quantities of wildlife. What he did have, however, was a car full of scrunts with guns and their undivided attention, if not exactly their undying loyalty. Still, one went into battle with the army they had. "Now let's go get us some fackin' dinner!" *** It's probably Wednesday-ish somewhere, look don't fuckin judge me. I don't have any brilliant plans at the moment because my brain is dead. My three actions will all be some variation of tear-assing towards the nearest bunnyhorde from the left edge of the map, and wildly firing autoguns at it with the whole militia. I don't think suppressing fire is really a useful concept here since the dograbbits will simply want to run anyway, but if I'm wrong I may consider assisting with that, otherwise it's full on carmageddon and I regret nothing.
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Apr 22, 2016 09:17
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Yurik Scraglagger Great Malibrathia Dograbbit Shoot Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Yurik cackled and whooped as defenseless creatures were slaughtered left and right, some of them by his own hand and some of them even still edible in the aftermath of the sudden carnage that had descended upon the unaware lapicanine inhabitants of this stretch of land. The militia had acquitted themselves admirably under his expert leadership, felling plenty of the creatures as they hurtled towards the stampeding packs with the limo in hot pursuit, and while ordinarily the Loremaster considered such "hands on" fighting to be beneath him (when he wasn't backed into a desperate corner, of course) if there was one thing scrunts loved as much as wallowing in their own filth and staring owlishly at things it was killing something smaller and weaker than them. "Good job, lads!" he shouted, letting off a burst of rifle fire in excitement. "Keep pourin' it on! Show these critters who the REAL top o' the food chain is around here!" A quick burst of static interrupted his maniacal exclamations, his annoyance tempered when he heard Grimply's voice coming through over the microbead lodged in his ear. "Listen, lads! Yer fackers better be cutting yer slammin short cause we's got somethin comin. Somethin big an probably mad! So git yer guns closer ta me shooty tree quick, roight?" Yurik's expression quickly grew serious, and while under most circumstances he would take this as his cue to move away from whatever was bigger and angrier than him his resolve was currently bolstered by being surrounded by a dozen armed scrunts as well as 4,000 pounds of Imperial engineering. "Right then, you heard'im!," he said, even though the other scrunts didn't actually possess microbeads of his own. "Hack, get yerself aimed at that tree right there an' step on it! The rest o' you fackers, keep shootin'! An' don't stop shootin' 'til you've shot everything there is to shoot!" *** Yurik is ordering the limo to head towards Grimply's position as requested while ordering the militia to KEEP FIRING(!!!). He himself will ready his own actions for the eventual arrival of some dograbbithemoth and at that point will use his phenomenal psychic powers to either combust it or cause it to hallucinate, whichever he's in better range for.
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May 18, 2016 05:52
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Yurik Scraglagger Great Malibrathia Dograbbit Shoot Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Yurik's heady rush of sadistic overconfidence popped like a flatulent bubble as the massive creatures Grimply had warned them about crashed their way out of the forest, bellowing their rabbity displeasure. Their glorious charge against hordes of small, defenseless creatures had now become an altogether different sort of affair, one the Loremaster wanted no part of. "Reverse! Reverse!," he shrieked, diving bodily over the seats into the drivers compartment, grabbing onto the wheel as Hack rasped and attempted to regain control of the now careening limousine, the vehicle swerving this way and that as the frantic scrunts scuffled in a wild panic. "Full stop! Hard about to larbord! Abandon ship!" Yurik slammed his foot downwards, seeking the vehicle's brake pedal, but instead wound up stomping on both Hack's foot as well as the accelerator, the vehicle lurching forward as it sped towards the gargantuan creatures while weaving drunkenly back and forth as both scrunts struggled for control of the wheel. "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Narratively Yurik wants to gtfo but in actuality I would like to get closer to the giant creatures so I can attempt to use my psychic bullshit on them, but I also don't want to get killed so if there's some sort of "drive forward faster while taking evasive maneuvers" option then that's the one, Yurik will continue to hold his action until the opportunity presents itself to unleash said psychic bullshittery. The militia can do whatever they want because apparently they're the stars of this show.
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Jun 7, 2016 10:13
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Yurik Scraglagger Great Malibrathia Dograbbit Shoot Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 -> 1/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" By now the limousine was a chorus of confused, panicky shouting and chain-flatulence as the vehicle wobbled in a drunken line towards, not away, from the massive creatures growing ever closer with each passing moment. Even in his increasingly apoplectic state Yurik could feel the beings' primitive minds beginning to tug at the far edge of his sixth sense, the outline of their consciousness taking shape within the Empyrean. He could also feel something else tugging at his brain...a sense of heat and flames, of energetic combustion, molecules agitating and transmuting in an ancient cosmic dance as old as the stars themselves. Naturally he did the first thing that occurred to him, which in retrospect he would argue was the only sensible thing anyone in his position could have done, and grabbed hold of the gossamer threads connecting those various ephemeral presences and yanking on both as hard as he could. The screaming in the vehicle took on an entirely new tone as the veil between reality and the Warp suddenly fell by the wayside and the occupants, as well as anyone else who happened to be in the general area at the moment, were gifted with a closer look at the roiling maelstrom of unfettered madness than most sapient beings cared to take...but oh Scruntfather, the power! He could feel it surging through him, screams giving way to maniacal laughter as his thinkin' cap danced with sparks and his red eyes gleamed with sinister purpose as he reached out with his mind, ready to make the world burn. *** Am I going to risk psychic catastrophe in order to potentially explode a giant fireball into an enormous animal's face? Hmm let me check my watch, oh goodness would you look at the time, it's bad decisions o'clock. Yurik has a Willpower of 55. His psy focus adds +10, for 65. Spontaneous Combustion, the power that DJF is all but taunting me to use, gives me a further +10 on tests to use it, making it 75. I will be pushing this power as far as it can go for a total of +3 to my psy rating of 3, which gives me an effective psy rating of 6, and at +5 per point of psy rating that adds a further +30 making my overall TN 105, and thus it is effectively impossible for me to fail to manifest this power. I roll a 58, which gives me something along the lines of 5 DoS (could be better, could be worse). The power itself does, in this instance, 1d10+14E pen 0 Flame damage, but I don't know how DJF wants to bring the flaming promethium tanks into this equation so I'll leave that up to him. But now it's time for everyone's favorite part of playing as a psyker, rolling on the big table of psychic fuckups! Which I have to do since I pushed, and I even add +10 to whatever I roll. I get a 70, which with the +10 is enough to move me to the REALLY bad psychic fuckup table instead of just the modestly bad one. I can, and will, spend a fate point to reroll this. I get...another result of 58, huh. Maybe this is a portent of some sort? Is the Warp sending me a message? Anyway, add 10 to that and it gives me a 68, just one shy of the sacred number of Slaanesh, and the following result: quote:Shadow of the Warp: For a split second, the world changes in appearance, and everyone within 1d100 metres has brief but horrific glimpse of the shadow of the Warp. Everyone in the area (including the psyker) must make a Difficult (–10) Willpower Test or gain 1d5 Corruption Points. See? Everything's fine. This will affect everyone within a 75 meter radius, so that's the militia and Hack and anyone else within 75 meters gets to take a -10 Willpower test or gain some Corruption points. Yurik has to hit a TN of 45 and rolls a straight up 100, botching as bad as possible, but fortunately there are no extra penalties for excessive failure and so he adds 3 more Corruption to the pile, putting him at 8.
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Jun 19, 2016 06:50
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Yurik Scraglagger Great Malibrathia Dograbbit Shoot Malbrathia-3 Fate Points 2/2 -> 1 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Yurik laughed, and laughed, and laughed. The sheer rush of unfettered power was ecstatic, addictive. This, the Loremaster idly imagined as the towering creature burst into incandescent flames that shrieked like the souls of the damned, must be what sex was like, except he was actually experiencing it. The other occupants of the limousine, unlike him, had mixed reactions to the spectacle unfolding before them. Members of the militia clutched their rifles to their chests and rocked back and forth, some wept openly, others muttered to themselves in incomprehensible languages that they hadn't known only a moment ago. A high-pitched keening noise rose from Hack's mauled larynx that might have, in another less-damaged scrunt, been a scream. Yurik simply laughed some more, wiping tears of mirth from his cheeks with the back of his hand. No, wait, those weren't tears...he was weeping blood. How odd. That revelation wasn't enough to put a damper on his amusement, though. He had killed the beast...him, with the power of his mind! (The others had contributed some as well, he graciously allowed). He knew that he had felt himself growing stronger, but this far surpassed even his most optimistic expectations. Could it be something to do with the planet itself? Malibrathia-3 held plenty of mysteries he knew, the secret of Slamite, the Necron forest, mutants and oddities...could it be that something to do with this planet was having a beneficial effect upon his mental powers? Could this world truly be the Slam Sector? Such questions would have to wait until later. Right now they had other matters to attend to, namely how to haul their well-earned prize back to base. The supply depot could wait, if need be...this much meat couldn't be allowed to go to waste. The limousine rolled to a stop across from the recently felled behemoth, blood slicking the ground where it fell after the Tauros detonated spectacularly beneath its massive paw. Some distant and dimly-understood connection between the feet of lapine creatures and good fortune bubbled up to the surface of Yurik's vast lake of unrefined knowledge and set him to laughing again. His merriment was interrupted by an urgent voice coming over the microbead in his ear. "Yurik, Yurik, are ya' there!?" It was Mung's voice, he realized after a moment. "We got ourselves a problem!?" "Oh?," the Loremaster replied, still giggling to himself. "An' what's that then?" "It's Groin!," Mung said. Of course it was Groin. It wouldn't be an outing without Groin causing an issue...actually, wasn't Groin the one driving the Tauros? Well that certainly explained that. "He's gone off his skull again! I saw'im land after he crashed the buggy into the big beastie, but he's frothin' at the mouth an' thrashin' around! He's gonna hurt someone, mebbe himself! Can you do your, uh...y'know, your mind thingie on'im?" Oh yes, Yurik thought, he could do all sorts of "mind thingies" to Groin, but an idle thought occurred to him and a wicked grin stretched across his face. "O' course, o' course, you're quite right m'boy, can't have him hurtin' anyone now can we? An' I know just what to do...now listen closely an' do what I tells ya'..." *** It was difficult to imagine what the world was like from the perspective of Groin Sklunger when he was deep in his Angry Place. A blur of motion and sounds? A red haze over everything? Something far stranger? Whatever it was, the salvaged Chimera doubtlessly held little interest to the raving and frothing scrunt...or at least it didn't until it started speaking to him. "Groiiiin...Groiiiiiiiiin..." The operator's head whipped this way and that, snarling at everything and nothing as he attempted to find out who or what was speaking to him, until the Chimera's headlights flashing off and on and its horn honking caught his attention. "Groin! I am the machine spirit of the Chimera!" Groin's glassy eyes went wide, a trickle of drool dripping from his lips as he stared at the vehicle with animalistic incomprehension. "Listen to me Groin, for I have something of great importance to tell you...Groin, I am your father..." Even in his befuddled state the revelation was enough to bring Groin up short. His father? Did he have one of those? Biology wasn't precisely his strong suit, but he DID have a bunch of machinery in his body, just like the Chimera...could it be? After all this time, had he been reunited with his family? He opened his mouth as if to say something, the berserker haze beginning to lift from his eyes... "...which means I facked yer mum! Ahahahahaha! Honk honk honk honk hooooooonk!" Mung hit the horn over and over as Yurik, over the microbead, instructed him to even as the Loremaster telepathically goaded the raging scrunt into venting his anger upon the vehicle's hull. "Come an' get me ya' little shite!" *** This is probably outside the realm of what the Telepathy minor manifestation is meant to accomplish but A). there isn't actually any "use psychic powers to talk to peoples' brains" ability in Only War's kind of anemic selection of psyker powers and B). this is funny. Overall TN of 105, gets an 83 in case it matters, so like 3 DoS.
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Jul 2, 2016 07:55
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Yurik Scraglagger Fear And Loathing in Malbrathia-3 ??? Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Yurik could feel a pain. It wasn't a good pain, if there even was such a thing. It was, in fact, a very awful, rather nauseating pain that left him feeling like his much-vaunted brain was about to liquefy and seep out through his eyesockets, which at this point might have been a welcome relief. Why did he hurt so much? What had happened? Where were they? And what was with all the shooting? Blearily he cracked his bloodshot eyes open, pulling his head off the console it had been glued to by a thick coating of drool, took a deep breath, and proceeded to vomit noisily all over the floor. The contents of his stomach hissed and sizzled worryingly as they splattered onto the ferrocrete. What in the Scruntfather's name had he been drinking? Drinking...the hazy memory flowed sluggishly through the sump-tunnels of his pain-wracked mind. Yes, they had been drinking, a celebratory toast to their victory over the local wildlife. Clawing the memories out of the muck was an arduous process, normally they would be there waiting for him to sift through at his leisure but now there were inky splotches riddling his mind where memories seemed reluctant to emerge or even non-existent. He remembered... ...Mung approaching him, inviting him to have a look at some of the carcasses they'd killed. Meat and bone laced with metal, more strangeness. He remembered jubilantly celebrating his triumph over the enormous creature that had tried to kill them, remembered taunting Groin into licking the Chimera all over (which in retrospect had been a far more disturbing outcome than he'd been aiming for, but at least it had worked)...he remembered wanting to tell the others about the vision he'd had, but then one of the technoscrunts had come scuttling over and offered everyone a drink, and what was the harm in having a drink now and then... ...and after that he remembered was far less clear, the black patches growing bigger and darker until a few seconds ago when he'd awoken, and now his most recent memories were of head-splitting pain, an awful taste lingering on his tongue, and the sound of weapons fire hammering into his beleaguered head like a hammer. "Whuthafack-?" was all he could get out before he heard Murdelia shouting beside him, adding to the concussive pain pounding through his brain. "Wherethafack-?" This time it was the sound of gunfire and shouting that interrupted him, sickly sparks fizzling across the surface of his thinkin' cap as he winced and groaned. Marshaling his thoughts was proving trickier than usual, but as usual it looked like it was up to him to save everyone else using his vastly superior intellect. Just as soon as he could actually think for a minute. *** No skill use just yet, time to ask some questions. First does the console we're slumped against have anything worth noting that's immediately obvious and doesn't require Tech-Use, like labels on the buttons or monitors showing other parts of the facility, stuff like that? Even if it's not immediately obvious what the labels MEAN I can always try something like Logic to puzzle them out so we don't solely have to rely on Mung to do stuff with the console. Also besides the console and the gyro is there anything else of interest in the room? And do any parts of the gyro look usefully salvageable in the next two minutes? Cables that can be used as ropes or something maybe. If the main console controls things like the blast doors then that ought to be able to help out the acid pit group once someone thinks to figure out where they are and what their deal is, though I don't know how to help the hostage group unless there are some cameras we can use to help guide them out of the Rainbow Six map their life has become. Also gear-check, I have a multikey and some iron-eater grenades.
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Aug 4, 2016 07:33
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Yurik Scraglagger Fear And Loathing in Malbrathia-3 ??? Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Yurik didn't generally react very well to being ordered about, preferring to give the orders whenever he could get away with asserting what passed for his authority, but at the moment he was hung-over and his brain felt as if it had been steeped in something unpleasantly viscous and so just this once he was content to let Mung take charge of this particular operation. Delegation, he thought blearily as he fell face-first onto the floor before scrabbling onto his feet and scuttling over to the wreckage of the gyrocopter to feebly unwind the drive cable from its chassis, delegation was the key to effective leadership.
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Aug 9, 2016 07:52
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Ignite Memories posted:that is absolutely my plan, yes. I'm not even part of that group but yes, this is absolutely the plan.
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Aug 17, 2016 09:47
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Yurik Scraglagger Fear And Loathing in Malbrathia-3 ??? Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map The flight from the tower they had awoken in had been harrowing for someone of Yurik's less-than-developed physique...it was only by virtue of Grumb Slanger being somewhere else entirely that Yurik had been spared the indignity of having his underpants yanked forcefully upwards had the heavy weapons scrunt been there to witness the Loremaster's descent down the rope. Not that Yurik actually wore underpants of course, as such constrictive and (in his opinion) highly unnecessary garments interfered with his psychic energies, but it was the principal of the thing. Somehow by the grace of the Scruntfather they'd made it through the tunnels unimpeded and finally emerged near what looked to be a landing field of some sort along with the rest of the group. A very heavily fortified landing field. The angry sounds of lasfire and the screams of the dying made it abundantly clear that whoever still remained behind was having an extremely bad time of things, so doubling back and trying to find another way out of this base wasn't presently an option. That just left the lander spinning up on the platform ahead, a lander that was surrounded by armed soldiers, servitors, and extremely large, ugly humanoids that the knowledgeable portion of his still hungover brain helpfully informed him were called ogryns. His stomach lurched ominously as the platform's defenders turned their attention towards them, quickly scuttling towards the nearest available piece of cover, reaching out with his mind to snare the first unwary psyche that crossed his path. *** Sorry for the delay, this week's been a bear. Yurik can't do anything from where he is without Pushing and I don't want to do that just yet, so instead I want to move towards the best available cover. If that takes me a couple actions fine, otherwise I'll ready an action for when someone does come into range...I'll be using Dominate as best I can to make enemies shoot other enemies.
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Sep 3, 2016 23:42
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Yurik Scraglagger Fear And Loathing in Malbrathia-3 ??? Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 12/12 Local Area Map Adrenaline may have chased the lingering inebriation from his mind, but as a mixer it didn't sit well with the remnants of whatever toxic brew Yurik had ingested to reach such a state in the first place. His pale skin was clammier than usual and it was up in the air which hole his next emission was likely to issue from, but the Loremaster had bigger problems to worry about at the moment...literally in the case of the ogryn, which as a subspecies was to humies what humies were to scrunts, that is to say far larger and infinitely stupider. You didn't need to be intelligent to be a menace though, as Grumb Slanger could no doubt testify. Beyond the malaise currently afflicting him, though, Yurik could finally feel the fluttering strands of other psyches wandering within the clawing, grasping reach of his own, the by-now familiar sensation of a humie mind and the dull, plodding consciousness that could only belong to the ogryn currently stomping in their general direction. It was a trivial matter to grab hold of both of them, cracking them like reins as he directed them to attack one-another..the wise scrunt, he knew, turned his enemy's strength against him (he was the wise scrunt in this aphorism, which he has made up himself for expressly this reason). *** Okay, so I will be using Dominate this round, it's a full action so it's also ALL I can do. The overall TN for using it at Unfettered, which I need to do in order to have range on it, is 80 and it can affect 2 targets (psy 3 divided by 2 round up), and as it turns out at 15 meters range I can get both the ogryn and someone in the soldier group labeled 5, which I will do. The command I'll issue is for them to attack each other, hopefully dealing damage as well as sowing some confusion given the less-than-intelligent nature of ogryns. Or maybe it'll hilariously backfire, who knows. That's a 25 for an overall total of 6 DoS. Both targets have to pass an opposed Willpower roll to resist, and if not then, well, they have to attack one another. No doubles so no hilarious psychic phenomena yet.
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Sep 14, 2016 02:05
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Yurik Scraglagger Fear And Loathing in Malbrathia-3 ??? Fate Points 1/2 Wounds 7/12 Local Area Map Yurik was having a very difficult day so far. For starters, and this was eliding over everything that had come before such as the hangover and the unpleasant shock of awakening in the middle of a military encampment surrounded by angry humies with guns, he had just been shot. Thanks to his supernatural sense of foresight it wasn't as bad as it could have been, but any amount of being shot at was less than optimal in his opinion. The pain of bullets grazing uncomfortably close to his fragile and extremely valuable flesh was enough to chase the last lingering remnants of drunkenness from his system, though his head still pounded both from the aftereffects of the potent brew as well as the effort it had taken to turn the ogryn and the humie soldiers against one another. The sudden and rather disgusting appearance of a strangely familiar yet vastly more disturbing scrunt also didn't help his temperament any. There were times that having a mind which retained any and all information with perfect clarity was a curse as much as a blessing, and Yurik knew that even with the aid of more of Mung's special recipe that the sight of Chuggo's glistening nose would haunt him for the rest of his life. A life which he very much wanted to keep as intact as possible for as long as possible, and so pushing aside the pain he reached out once more and grabbed hold of the aetherial strings leading to the minds of the soldiers he'd subverted once already, hoping to bring a swift and decisive end to the fight by turning the person who seemed most like they were in charge into a bloody smear on the ground. ~Get that facker!~ came the wordless command as the Loremaster's red eyes fixated upon the tech-priest huddled fearfully behind the sandbags. *** Doing the same thing as before only instead of urging them to kill each other I'm compelling them to Get that facker!, aka the Tech-Priest. Same numbers as before, TN 80, affecting both the ogryn and soldiermans #5, and a roll of 30 means that like before it's 6 DoS, contesting Willpower roll, etc.
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Sep 26, 2016 23:25
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Yurik Scraglagger Fear And Loathing in Malbrathia-3 ??? Fate Points 0/2 Wounds 0/12 Local Area Map Yurik howled and thrashed feebly as multiple realities collapsed in upon themselves in a foul-smelling burst of empyreal byproducts, subsequently leaving him dangerously vulnerable to having his delicate and extremely valuable flesh perforated by shards of metal. Hot needles of pain both figuratively and literally shot through his body, a strangled, keening wail rising from the Loremaster's throat as attempts to move his wounded arm brought even more pain. Somehow he had wound up lying on his back though he couldn't recall how he'd gotten there, and he had a distinct suspicion that the sticky fluid he was lying in was in fact his own blood. On the other hand, his hangover was no longer a pressing concern. With his unwounded arm Yurik slapped at his chest until he found what he was looking for, mustering all his strength to yank the pin free from a smoke grenade stuffed haphazardly within the confines of his now even more disgusting robes. The grenade sputtered and coughed before slowly wreathing the area around him in thick, billowing clouds of smoke like the world's most lackluster suicide bombing, but hopefully it would serve to conceal his wounded and bleeding body sufficiently to prevent him from being shot further. A part of him had been entertaining the notion of simply making a mad dash for the lander and making a frantic escape on his own, leaving the rest of his erstwhile companions to die a horrible death if need be, but beyond the fact that he felt strangely reluctant to abandon Grimply (the rest of them, ehhhh) he was now too wounded to effect such a plan. Like it or not, the only way out now was to either kill or drive off everything and everyone between them and the sweet taste of freedom. Freedom, he decided, tasted decidedly unlike sitting in the midst of an active smoke grenade. Scooting himself backwards against the nearest solid surface, gasping and whining all the way, Yurik frantically reached out with his mind. He was no longer concerned with the finer points of control and sadism, he only sought to grab hold of someone's, anyone's, thoughts and give them a short, sharp yank. *** First things first, I'm unsure of what my wounds are currently at but I'm assuming if I've been taking crits then I'm at 0. Anyway moving on to actions, the first thing I'll do is half-action trigger a smoke grenade attached to my body. I leave it up to DJF if this is cheesy rules-lawyering munchkinism since I'm not actually DRAWING the grenade, simply popping the pin while it's on my person. I'll leave it up to him, if this takes two half actions then that will be all I do this round as I'd rather have the cover of smoke helping me to not die. If he accepts my terrible plan then I will follow up with a psychic power, in this case Hallucinate...can't Dominate because that's a full action, but good ol' Hallucinate is only a half action. If I can Hallucinate someone I nominate the Tech-Priest because gently caress that guy. TN is 80, and I roll an 8 holy poo poo, so that's something like 8 DoS. The Tech-Priest gets an opposed Willpower roll (good luck, buddy) and if he fails then he gets to Hallucinate for the next two rounds. Hopefully that should remove him as a thread long enough for us to kill some other dudes. If the Tech-Priest isn't a valid target for psy powers like this due to his being a weird machine-man then I guess I'll target one of the squads or something? Yurik is still prone because he didn't use any actions to get up. Being prone means melee attacks get +10 against him but ranged attacks are at -10, also the smoke adds a further -20...but his own Evasion tests are at -20. So all in all Yurik is -20 to dodge but anyone else is -30 to shoot at him so hopefully that balances out? Kai Tave fucked around with this message at 00:12 on Oct 14, 2016 |
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Oct 13, 2016 21:20
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DeathSandwich posted:Something to note for the wounded people is that you can spend a fate point to regain I believe 1d5 wounds. This is useful because it removes critical damage first (though any permanent maimings remain) which will help ease recovery times. IIRC there's also a toughness/defense talent that changes the fate point heal to 1d5 + toughness bonus I'm out of fate points though  Spent one earlier, then spent the other on my last dodge roll. Otherwise yeah, I'd be tempted.
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Oct 14, 2016 00:13
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Yurik Scraglagger Fear And Loathing in Malbrathia-3 ??? Fate Points 0/2 Wounds 0/12 Local Area Map Yurik attempted a triumphant cackle but it came out as more of a strained series of wheezing sounds as he slowly dragged himself upright, bloody smears left in his wake along the ground. He could sense that someone was experiencing an extreme bout of mental distress...good. The satisfaction of inflicting unspeakable horrors upon someone's vulnerable mind wasn't in and of itself enough to patch the various holes in his body currently leaking blood and other unpleasant substances in distressing if uncritical amounts, but it was a fine start. Murmuring and muttering to himself, the Loremaster slumped against the wall as he let his mind drift across the battlefield. There, another set of thoughts jangling through the aether...it was simplicity itself to grab hold of them, but they slipped through his mental grasp with infuriating slipperiness as he went to tug at them. Perhaps this mind was more strong-willed than the last one he'd snared, or perhaps it was merely the blood loss beginning to catch up with him. Either way he sincerely hoped that this fight would be over soon...a nap was starting to sound more and more appealing by the moment. *** Half action to stand up, half action to use Hallucinate against...let's go with squad 4, TN of 80 as per usual, and this time I get a 70 which is a measly 2 DoS. Opposed Willpower roll to overcome, otherwise they get to bug the gently caress out for the next couple of rounds or until they die horribly, whichever comes first.
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Oct 25, 2016 02:06
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Yurik Scraglagger Fear And Loathing in Malbrathia-3 ??? Fate Points 0/2 Wounds 0/12 Local Area Map Finally, at long last, the shooting and shouting stopped, Most of it anyway...there was always some lingering noise after a pitched battle, a few stray celebratory gunshots and the occasional anguished scream of the dying, but for the first time since Yurik had awoken glued to a table by a puddle of his own drool it was blessedly quiet. Quiet and painful. Now that the adrenaline brought about by being so close to death was ebbing, the pain that it had been keeping at bay was becoming quite prominent...the strange weapon that he had been shot with, not a lasweapon as evidenced by the lack of burnt flesh, had left Yurik with a few more holes in his body than normal, and while none of them were troublingly large they were larger than he cared for them to be, i.e. any size at all. Fortunately the one positive quality that the Loremaster possessed, if one could call it that, was an abundance of willpower. Commanding the strange and fickle powers of the Warp required a mind made of sterner stuff than the usual scrunt possessed, and so while Yurik would have been perfectly happy to curl up in a filthy ball on the ground and whine for medical attention he shuffled slowly out of the dissipating smoke, trudging across the now silent battlefield with the aid of his thinkin' stick clutched in one trembling white-knuckled hand. There would be time for first aid later...right now there was a matter that required his personal attention. It took him several long minutes to find what he was looking for, grimacing and grunting as he stepped over corpses and shuffled around debris. There on the ground lay a humie tech-priest, who judging by the weapon affixed to his body and angle relative to the position Yurik had taken earlier was the one responsible for shooting him. He could sense the lingering mental echoes of the tech-priest's last moments before death, a medley of confusion and fear and disgust. That was good, but for for the affront of nearly killing him he deserved even worse...an example needed to be made, and only the most heinous of indignities he knew of was suitable for such a task. And so it was that he ambled over to the dead man's head... "Nnnf..." ...and with great deliberation... "Argh..." ...began to slowly and methodically teabag him. "Sssss..." *** It took me a week to feel good enough to write a post about a mortally wounded scrunt teabagging a corpse, you're welcome. Being sick sucks. Oh, and while everyone else is accomplishing something useful once Yurik finishes his grisly post-battle rituals I would like to see about stealing this hyper-railgun-needlecannon thing. I'm well aware this may involve some impromptu cybersurgery, it's all right, I have a knife somewhere. Also I would like some first aid, please. Also yes, I have the Inquisitorial plotbox. Let's smear it in everyone's blood.
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Nov 5, 2016 10:14
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Yurik Scraglagger Fear And Loathing in Malbrathia-3 ??? Fate Points 0/2 Wounds 0/12 Local Area Map After Murdelia had patched him up, Yurik was feeling like a new scrunt. His encounter with the fallen tech-priest had also been affirming, and the loss of a few errant hairs was a small price to pay to bolster his spirits. The return of his assistant was a dubious blessing, but it would be nice having someone around to do all the heavy lifting for him while he recuperated from his injuries. "Come along m'boy," he said, beckoning Hack into the increasingly rancid lander. Of course once aboard he joined the others in ransacking the cargo hold, because at the end of the day even a scrunt Loremaster was still a scrunt, and if a scrunt loved anything more than drugs, alcohol, food of dubious province, filth, violence, skullduggery, making obnoxious noises, making noxious odors, explosions, killing small defenseless creatures, killing larger and less defenseless creatures, staring unblinkingly at other people for uncomfortable lengths of time, and dirt, it was rummaging through other peoples' stuff (also stealing other peoples' stuff). "Nope. Nuh-uh. Fack it," he muttered to himself as he tossed odds and ends over his shoulder, rummaging through various crates and boxes that had been left in the cargo bay of the lander. There were dataslates and sheafs of parchment, most of which had been written in some form of cyphertext or another, which he briefly committed to memory perhaps to decode at a later date (or perhaps not), there were technological odds and ends, there were...vials of blood? Interesting. The small box they were contained in bore no obvious labels or instructions, but people didn't usually package up vials of blood just because (well, most people anyway, and really who was he to judge someone's hobbies?) and so he produced the locked Inquisitorial box from the recesses of his robe and doused the genelock in every vial's worth, just to be sure. But that wasn't the only thing he found that caught his eye. "Oooh, now what's this then?," he asked as he slowly lifted the strange artifact from the extremely well-shielded and warning-bedecked storage unit it had been sealed in until just now. *** Like I said, Only War doesn't have a ton of psyker related stuff so what I'm thinking of might be a reach, but if there's weird alien blood aboard this thing it would be neat if there was some kind of weird alien psychoactive thing Yurik could stick on top of his staff. 40K doesn't exactly have its own equivalent of warpstone but something along those lines, glowy and dangerous. I'm willing to leave the precise details of what this does entirely up to DJF who has only my best interests at heart.
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Nov 17, 2016 09:56
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Yurik Scraglagger Above Malbrathia-3 In Spaaaaace Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 8/12 Local Area Map Yurik could scarcely comprehend what he was hearing. No, that wasn't true. He could comprehend what he was hearing, quite a bit better than the average scrunt no doubt could, which is why the recordings embedded within the datacube left his mind reeling with the undeniable implications. Yurik was a wizened Loremaster (by scrunt standards anyway) but he had always taken it as a given that scrunts had existed nearly as far back as humies had. Why wouldn't they have? There was information about it...biological data, history, lore. He knew all of it, had committed it to the insatiable septic whirlpool of his bottomless memory to exist among the rest of the facts and data that had taken up residence there. And if this datacube was correct, if what the voices it was replaying said was accurate, then all of that, all of it, was a lie. The concept of an existential crisis was a foreign one to most scrunts who tended to live their lives rather solidly in the now, in large part due to the fact that most scrunts had the memory and capacity for philosophical insight of a faulty servitor. Yurik, as had been stated numerously and at nauseating length, wasn't most scrunts, and so the revelations imparted by the datacube were enough to force him to take a seat upon a nearby supply crate as a tidal storm of emotions raged through him...anger, shock, disbelief, more anger, flatulence, quite a bit of anger actually. He couldn't bring himself to look at Grimply, worried that if the Scruntfather-bothering sniper managed to put the pieces together that it might send him completely over the edge. The notion that they had, all of them, been created by humie hands instead of the Scruntfather's own... There was other information as well, information about the planet and its more unique features, information about the EXPERIMENTAL COMBAT DRUG, about the planetary rulership of Malbrathia-3, and Yurik's mind dutifully assimilated it and stored it away for later, but whereas before he might have been chortling with glee at the prospect of turning a Hive Fleet against humie-held planets or assuming governorship (officially! Legally!) of this planet, or really why not both, right now one thought burned brightly above all the rest as he fixed a red-eyed glower through the viewport at the rapidly approaching bulk of His Everlasting Radiant Fist hanging in orbit above the planet that it seemed like only yesterday that had been abruptly deposited on. "We need to get this fackin' thing to the lab decks," he declared, rising back up to his feet and slamming the end of his newly-bedecked thinkin' stick upon the plating beneath their feet. "'S time we had a chat with this Velothenes. With our guns." *** Yurik's vote is to crash the shuttle into the laboratory decks and violently murder our creator in order to bury the terrible secret of the scrunts and perpetuate the falsified history of our people for the good of scruntkind. Note that most scrunts probably wouldn't care or be able to comprehend any of this, but it's the principle of the matter.
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Nov 29, 2016 03:02
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Yurik Scraglagger The Belly of the Beast In Spaaaaace Fate Points 2/2 Wounds 8/12 Local Area Map *** Straight up I have been a lazy piece of poo poo I know, sorry. I don't know if it's seasonal malaise or if I'm burning out or whatever, but I've found myself with a case of scrunters block and I don't want to be the rear end in a top hat holding things up so I'm going to make a low-effort italics only post and hopefully I'll be able to shake this off because I know we're near the endgame. Yurik is therefore going to grab hold of Grumb's servitor buddy's face in an extremely disturbing fashion and PROBE HIS BRAINMEATS with my terrifying brain sorcery. This is probably a Psyniscience roll unless you planned to have it be automatic, in which case the TN is 46. After that, time permitting, I will roll Common Lore (Imperial Navy) to see if I can glean any useful information pertaining to things like Imperial voidship layouts or even about this ship in particular if it has a noteworthy enough history, the TN of which is 53 taking Foresight into account.
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Jan 22, 2017 10:32
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