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 Spinward Front, Calixis Sector, anno 39.8721 The Severan Dominate. A coalition of dozens of human worlds that have turned from the Imperium to embrace the rule of the charismatic apostate Severus. Battles and skirmishes erupt daily throughout the length and breadth the Dominate; warzones and lines of combat can shift on an instant, and today's glorious advance may become tomorrow's tactical retreat. The Dominate is the most insidious threat the sector has yet seen. Ork hordes come and go; Dark Eldar pillage at will; strange and curious aliens from the Outer Reaches make incursions; but the real danger to long-term stability comes from wavering of faith in the Emperor. The Xenos may kill and plunder and move on, but the loss of a world to the Dominate is their corresponding gain. The one saving grace is that the Ruinous Powers appear to play no part in this heresy – a world lost to the Dominate may one day be retaken. It is all-out warfare with strained resources. Imperial High Command stretches supply lines to breaking point in its efforts to land a decisive blow against the Dominate. A Spinward commander uses all possible assets at his disposal simply to stay in the fight. A particularly cunning commander may even find a use for assets that have, historically, not been considered assets at all... https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpJ6anurfuw theme song to scrunts in spaaaaace  Spinward Front, Calixis Sector, anno 39.8722 “Emperor's Holy Presence Shall Purge The Twisted And Unclean, Honour To The Pious, Smite The Mutant And Heretic And The Alien, Forever And Ever In His Glorious Radiance”, Recommissioned-Decommissioned Cargo Hauler “Mule” Class, Malbrathia-3 Orbit, Malbrathia System Quite suddenly, a brisk voice pierces the disgusting hubbub and babble. “-quisitor says it's perfectly safe, they have no concept of industry and we've not given them any anti-armour equipment. They breed like rabbits and they carry horrible diseases, so best case scenario they establish a foothold, middle-case they disrupt the Dominate forces enough for us to evacuate a few more battalions, and worst case scenario we no longer have to worry about the horrible little shits on our worlds anymore. Once we come to reconquer we can hunt them down and flame them out with Sentinels, it's all in the files.” The main cargo bay of the battered, rusting, creaking, darkened hauler is full - full to the brim – with bickering, yelling, grumbling Scrunts. Hundreds, thousands of the vile little monsters, in family groups or in combat squads, nursing and fighting and scratching and banging on things in filthy tents and rusted lean-tos. The smell to human sensibilities must be lethal – Scrunts consider it cosy. Enormous reinforced vidscreens have flickered to life next to the leaking, malfunctioning nutrient dispensers, displaying a human face. He stares languidly slightly off-camera, and his face displays that pleasing Scrunty phenomenon of having absolutely no chin at all. A worried voice speaks up. “Uhm, Lord-Commander, we're live. They can see you” The face on-screen turns towards the camera. He looks unhappy. “Hrrppmph! Commissar?” A crack, and a yell. The Screen-Face draws himself up, sets his features and begins to speak. “Let us get this over with. My good creatures.” Nearby Scrunts stare gormlessly. He talks fancy, fancier than you've ever heard before. “The Emperor is pleased with you.” Now nearby Scrunts are starting to get suspicious. No-one is ever pleased with a Scrunt, no matter how many times Ecclesiarchy priests have explained to them about the Emperor's merciful forgiveness of their disgraceful forms. “He has a present for you.” Some of the smaller Scrunts are panicking. The general clamor and noise is reaching fever pitch, and it's hard to make out what the Screen-Face is saying. “He wants you to go live somewhere else. That is why he gathered you all and put you on this vessel.” This, at least, is familiar. “He has found a lovely planet for you. It is very big, and there is lots to look at, and...” He squints at the camera, and looks disgusted. Can he see you? “is that right? Well. This is outrageous! ...it is... it is right in the middle of... the Slam Sector.” With an effort, he finishes his sentence, before blurting out “Commissar!” The ensuring crack and the yell suddenly seem very loud, because every single Scrunt has gone completely silent. The legendary Slam Sector! A place of milk and honey, or at least their far more revolting Scrunt counterparts! A place of safety, of freedom to peer intently at whatever you choose! Screen-Face rallies himself admirably for the final push. “Go to the dropships. Bad people may try to stop you. You can do what you like to them. The Emperor be with you!” He settles back, queasy with the knowledge that he has communicated with Scrunts, as the screen winks off. The silence continues for a short while, before the chant starts. Slowly and feebly at first, then louder and raucous, building to a strange gurgling, wheezing roar. “SLAM SECTOR! SLAM SECTOR! SLAM SECTOR! SLAM SECTOR!” Ecstatic Scrunts charge around aimlessly. There is a general air of celebration. Scrunts seem to be making their way to the drop-pods with as much purpose as they can muster, although you still have some time before planetfall. For now, you may as well enjoy the party. –--------- Welcome to the game thread! Recruitment thread is here. There is a general Scrunt Saturnalia going on - you have complete narrative freedom for a bit, with the caveat that any long-term consequences are purely narrative in nature. For example, you might describe yourself making a firm Scrunty friend, but he's not going to join the party or give you a sweet gun. Similarly, you might get in a fight but you won't take any wounds or anything. For now, just Scrunt at each other and have fun – no need to do stat rolls, just describe what you're up to. For preference, wrap things up so that you're in a drop pod by the time I do the next big post. If people are having fun with this I'll hold off till Sunday. Either make up your own stuff for what's going on, or alternatively, feel free to play off the following random Scrunty events happening: Moola, in your excitement your bionic arm has started to make seductive come-hither motions at a particularly malformed family group of Scrunts. The grand-matriarch appears receptive, as do three or four of the uncles. Phoon, you have been inexplicably hoisted up onto the shoulders of a dozen young Scrunts and they are parading you around. Waroduce and FirstPersonShitter, a small group of Scrunts have begun to beat the poo poo out of both of your comrades in sheer excitement. Your comrades still appear to be having a great time. ThNextGreenLantern, several Scrunts near you have toppled a stack of barrels of Scruntweiser in their excitement. Casualties have ensued. Ignite Memories, a series of excitable strong-Scrunts are doing their level best to wrench off the armour plating surrounding a porthole out into the inky darkness of space. Who What Now, a young Scrunt has gotten excited and made a grab for your really hosed up laser gun! Tin Tim, the walls of this place are metal so just do whatever dude. Climb up poo poo and fire wildly, or get on the ceiling and act as a disco ball. You don't have to do any of this stuff, or if you decide to you don't need to do what's next to your name, it's just ideas. Standard TG style rules apply, which boil down to this – put your name and location in bold at the top of your post, put the main body of your post in normal text with bold dialogue, and put any out-of-character text, including character actions and any stat bonuses you remember, in italics down at the bottom. For example: –-- Barry, Back at Base Camp Barry uses the time spent while everyone else is away to practice his increasibly esoteric masturbation rituals. "Hell yeah!", he cries. Jerkin' it. Relevant stats are Trade +10 (Masturbator) against Agility of 38 –- Apart from that – let this hosed up trainwreck commence!  EXTREMELY USEFUL RESOURCE POST
Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 19:05 on Dec 10, 2014 |
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Nov 7, 2014 21:32
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Quit posting itt if you're not a player, fags!!! Post in the two other threads apparently dedicated to this game instead!
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Nov 7, 2014 22:08
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maaan apparently none of you disgusting little animals know what "you have complete narrative freedom" means so ok we'll do it the old-fashioned way!! Pernicious Kreb Swelling with a terrible euphoria, Pernicious Kreb powers up his excruciatingly phallic rifle and begins pumping his hot lasery load into the homesteads of unsuspecting scrunt families. Even in the gloom of the cargo hold his aim is true (25 vs [50 (base BS) + 10 (short range) + -10 (full auto) + 10 (half-aim)] = 3 DoS + 1 for Lasgun barrage = 4 hits), and the smell of scorched flesh and flaming fuel fills the immediate vicinity, overpowering even the natural stench of scrunts at rest! You hit four things with a powerful laser rifle. I'm not rolling damage, you can decide what these things are and what happened and how many scrunts died and whether anyone nearby gets angry or even notices. You can also decide what it is you find in their belongings but remember you ain't taking this off the ship - this is the play-around intro bit which is why you're deciding everything! Scurrilous Scruntson Scurrilous beats a path through the thrashing scrunt hordes with his tentacular mechandrite, ignoring cries of "OO'S EE THEN" and "SLAM" and "WOTCHIT MATE" and "SECTOR". In his enthusiasm he lunges straight for the nearest control panel, shoving a baby scrunt out of the way where it is trampled underfoot by its doting parents as they crack open fresh barrels of petroleum to drink and bathe in. With a powerful roar and the aid of his scruntbot companion he wrenches off the casing, jams his utility mechandrite straight into the gap, and completely fucks everything up by connecting with a live wire (85 vs [50 (int) + 10 (tech use +10) + 10 (mechandrite) = 70] = 2 degrees of failure). There is a smell of burning hair. You screwed up on the tech use roll. You are now on fire. This does not really have an impact because this is the tutorial - if it was not, you would not be able to do anything other than try to put it out without a WP test, but then I wouldn't set you on fire for 2 degrees of failure anyway. This is just happening because it's funny. Dak Rugby Dak's heart catches in his throat as he turns over his patient. He presses an ear to its side - silence! Total silence! No gurgling or gloshing at all! With a sigh of relief he realises the barrel isn't damaged, and turns to the next one. The outlook is bleak. The spigot is damaged, and an ominous hissing sound indicates it was shaken up in transit. Injured scrunts moan fecklessly around Dak's feet but he stamps them into silence - he has important work to do! If he doesn't get this spigot fixed quickly, it could explode! You managed a standard Awareness test to realise that poo poo, this barrel's going to blow! You don't have much time to fix it, and you also don't have the means - someone with Tech Use and a mechandrite/combitool could weld it back together, but one of those scrunts is on fire and the other is trying to get balls-deep in an old lady, so you may struggle to persuade them to help. Perhaps other scrunts could assist, or perhaps you can figure out something else to do with this barrel before it blows! Groin Sklunger  The lady scrunt is receptive - the males of her group, however, take serious umbrage to Groin's direct approach (37 vs fellowship 26 + 10 (peer - scum) = 36 for a Charm test = 1 degree of failure) and, wracked with jealous rage, charge him! A few nearby scrunts bellow aimlessly at the fracas, but no-one jumps to his aid! Thankfully, the male scrunts divide their time equally between attacking Groin, attacking each other, and attacking themselves. Faint heart never won fair lady! You are in a fist fight against three other scrunts with your trousers down, and your arm's still making "come get some" gestures. Are you a bad enough dude to beat off these scrunts? Or you can shuffle off if you like and press your attentions on other Scrunts but let's keep it from being R-rated, please Grimply Grimply aims his pistol at a nearby patch of flooring and stitches a ragged line of fire in the shape of a grinning scrunt face. Unfortunately, being a scrunt and thus functionally retarded, he did not take into account the fact that he is in a metal chamber and bullets tend to richochet (59 vs [45 (BS) + -10 (full auto) = 35 = 2 degrees of failure = 2 hits because you didn't want to connect!). A venerable scrunt patriarch and his tiny hosed up child bride crumple to the floor in puddles of ichor. Nearby scrunts slowly turn their faces roof-ward in an attempt to figure out what the hell just happened, but don't appear to be feeling any particular emotion. At least, not until the power of Grimply's oration flows through them! (16 vs [42 (Fel) + 10 (Peer - Scum) = 3 degrees of success!) You killed some scrunts, but no-one cares. They care about your speech though! They care a lot! Tell us what they do, now that they care! ----- by the way are you vile beasts OK with me delegating descriptive responsibility to you? I plan to do this a bit more once we really start getting into it (e.g. "this camp has a particularly obvious defensive feature - Phoon, what is it?") but tell me if you don't like being put on the spot like that.
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Nov 7, 2014 23:39
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The Drop-Pod Bays With a terrifying bellow of anger, Scurrilous vents his rage on the control terminal. Smouldering faintly where he is drenched in viscous oily fluid, he pounds the console again and again with his fists, mace and head, slamming his utility mechandrite left and right and venting foul fumes from its chambers! Red warning lights and sirens begin to sound. SCR-417 busies itself with slowly sawing through the base of the console, and other nearby scrunts soon join the fray, attracted by the ruckus and the sirens, gleefully taking any excuse to wildly thrash around. The censer fumes make it hard to see, and one particularly small and twisted scrunt flashes suddenly into ash as he connects solidly with the wiring conduit which Scurrilous had earlier drilled into. In a matter of minutes the console lies broken and the other scrunts waddle off to go ruin something else. Spare wiring and metal scraps are free for the taking, and the top half of the unfortunate small scrunt's skull remains mostly unconsumed by the brief electrical fire. However, the blast door leading to the drop pod now appears to lead out into the void - it is only now that Scurrilous realises the purpose of the red lights and sirens. He must have unwittingly slammed his hands into the control keys in just such as way as to prepare the launch sequence! What's more, failsafes appear to be activating all along the drop pod bay - more red warning lights are emerging from hatches, and tinny Imperial anthems are blaring discordantly from the bay speakers. The drop-pods are getting ready for launch! HULK SMASH you get some wires and some spare bits and bobs and half a skull if you want it I guess. Also you started the drop sequence early!! The Airlock Grumb manhandles the scrunt-runt out of the airlock in short order. It squalls and struggles feebly, but is overpowered by the distressingly brawny heavy gunner. It is vented into space with textbook efficiency.  Shortly, it reappears at the porthole. It peers in gormlessly, clawing aimlessly at the fittings in an attempt to get back in. The scrunts on the inside are mesmerized, and begin shuffling around vaguely in an attempt to show due deference. Some of them seem to have chosen Grumb as their leader, a fact that does not sit well with a particularly wizened and leathery scrunt. It swaggers scowlingly up to Grumb and spits its cigar at his feet. Before it can start anything, the scrunt clinging to the outside of the voidship is scraped off by what looks to be a gigantic drop container, heading off into the blackness of space, far away from the planet. Red lights begin to flash as the other drop-pods get ready for launch! if you want to start a beef with this Rival Scrunt or kiss and make up do feel free, if you want to leg it and go do something else also feel free! Some of the scrunts have been intimidated into seeing you as pack alpha. The No-Longer-Quite-So-Erotic Scruntbrawl Urok charges into the fray like a small brown cannonball (21 vs [43 (WS) + 20 (Charge) + -10 (two weapons)] = 53 = 4 degrees of success). He leaps like a particularly feculent salmon and grabs two scrunts by what passes for their necks, slamming their faces into the ground as he comes back up with a roll. Serious facio-cranial trauma would not normally be enough to worry a scrunt, but when it's compounded by sixty thousand volts of high-amperage current, it means they are unlikely to get back up any time soon. The other scrunts shy away in a panic, although a few remain kicking at each other's shins - in particular, a venerable old scrunt matriarch appears to be savaging some of her nephews, screeching something about "ruining her chances". Groin has long since dragged himself away from this horrible mess, but Urok can see his trail glisten wetly in the dim light of the cargo hold should he wish to follow. Alternatively, there are plenty of scowling faces still to knock about here - but what's all that noise coming from the speakers, and why are those lights flashing? good charge, really thick, tight, powerful. you ruined a couple of scrunts quite handily. They are dead and stunned. You can keep knocking more scrunts about, you can go electrocute the booze if you want, or you can go do whatever. --------------- I'm about to go out so I'm going to have to leave it there. You guys will have to carry on scrunting until tomorrow, but think about heading to the drop pods now so that we can do planetfall Monday. Kreb, you can pick from any two out of jet fuel, grease, cheap beer, concentrated acid, concentrated "acid", rancid water, thick and healthy pea soup, or any other fluid of your choice. Other scrunts will doubtless join you at your repast should you wish. Keggers, get to work on that barrel. Either you can fix it up, or you fail, it's up to Dak. Failure options include explosions, toxic contamination, or theft by other scrunts, or whatever you can think of. Some of you got a bit more attention than others this update, I will even that up on Sunday.
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Nov 8, 2014 18:22
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let's get it on Pernicious Kreb Kreb drinks deep of Mother Radon's blessings. The faint tinge of vomit from the can conmingles with the burning sensation of irradiated heavy water, filling the small scrunt with the memories of days gone by. His twisted, hosed-up digestive system happily processes whatever vileness he throws at it. Until it figures out the soup. Kreb has never been particularly successful at following a balanced diet. His intestinal flora react to actual nutrients and vitamins in much the same way a bed of desert plants reacts to a sudden deluge of fresh, cool water. Expansion occurs. Several minutes later, Kreb's horrific mutant gut bacteria begin to multiply with alarming speed, venting the usual gases of a scrunt at repose at an exponentially faster rate than usual. Gurgles and growls drown out even the drop-pod warning sirens, and Kreb is suddenly lifted several inches off the ground by his sudden gain of lighter-than-air gases. This situation swiftly resolves itself in the usual fashion, pebble-dashing an unwary litter of scruntlets behind him. They don't notice, and probably get fractionally cleaner as a result. Kreb is propelled forwards and bumps against the wall of the drop-pod bay. Whether the painful intestinal goings-on that have just occured register as unusual with him is unknown, but his gut bacteria appear to have burned themselves out in a frenzied overdrive of hyper-replication. Only the strong have survived, clinging tenaciously to his guts and biding their time to strike again - the rest fall by the wayside, literally. two hundred words on scrunts making GBS threads and farting. Kreb gets a one-shot combat talent that is sort of similar to the censer of a utility mechandrite - half action to impose -10 on WS tests for all living creatures except Scrunts in a two metre radius. You also get a +10 against your next test to resist poison. The Descent https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-wiRivDMIYM Scouse-class Self-Contained Orbital Descent Unit "Hillsborough" Scrunting hordes teem and flock towards the drop bay, aimlessly trampling the feeble or lazy underfoot. The sudden shift in gravity of thousands of small, stinking bodies scampering from one side of the ship to the other sets the rickety old tug into a slight pitch. A thinking man would wonder whether such an old, decrepit vessel has the cogitator cycles to spare to correct for this movement and the early release, in terms of launching the pods on target. A thinking man is not, however, present. Groin falls in with the other scrunts as they head towards the whoop of the dropship bays, his eye fizzing and sparking. Dak, his face noticeably flatter from the use it has seen, is perhaps still wracked with guilt at the fact that he could not save the Scruntweister - on the other hand scrunts will consume any old poo poo, so maybe he's not. Grumb swaggers onwards with a small, awed contingent of scrunts following him at a respectful distance, and a fresh, wizened, leathery ballsack hanging from his belt - Urok has a slightly larger, but slightly more battered group plodding behind him. His belt remains sackless. Grimply stumps morosely towards the pods, mag-boots deactivated and slung over his shoulder. With any luck the pods will explode on launch, but he suspects the Scruntfather may yet have a role for him to play. Gumbo, too, has a following - his natural air of authority has meant that scrunts have gravitated aimlessly towards him, under the assumption that he knows what he's doing.  (the face of a scrunt that knows what he's doing) The gaggle of scrunts pick up Kreb and Scurrilous on the way. POD #15041989 is stenciled in thick yellow letters on the blast door, as red lights flicker and glimmer. The press of bodies is SLAM getting quite SECTOR intense now, and the SLAM shouting is reaching fever SECTOR pitch, but that blast SLAM door just won't open! Did someone SECTOR gently caress up the controls in a blind rage? Suddenly, with a pop, the pressure on the yelling horde of scrunts is released! The door has flung open! Shouting, grumbling bodies scatter into the pod beyond, spilling out to take up all the available space! They strap themsel- where are the straps where are the seats Oh. You're being fired at the planet in a gigantic freight container.  --------- have fun!!! You will all, somehow, survive the descent, as will most of the several hundred scrunts you are with. There are several hundred of you, but only about twenty are any good in a fight. That's you guys and your comrades. This pod does not contain an army, it contains a small tribe with a dedicated, elite warrior caste - everyone else will just gently caress everything up if you try to get them to fight. You can probably train them to be useful if you want, or join up with other scrunts if you can find them, but that's more a long-term goal. Always be on the lookout for ways to increase your power as a gang, because goddammit this is your planet and you have big plans for it! Feel free to describe your scrunt being fired at the planet in a big metal box full of other, terrified feral scrunts, but don't feel obliged - this is mostly a scene-change, and we'll have planetfall and some action tomorrow. Now that we're tightening things up a bit, getting into the game proper and off the introductory railroad, and occasionally actually rolling for stuff, I anticipate things slowing down a little, but do still post as often as you find enjoyable. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 21:23 on Nov 9, 2014 |
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Nov 9, 2014 21:07
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hc9p6nuKwv8 Scrunt Box 300km above sea level Low Malbrathia-3 Orbit What noble spirit moveth the clay! What gentle dignity possesseth the scrunt! Faced with the prospect of certain death by splatting from a great height, the creatures accept their lot with a grave equanimity, focusing on making the last moments of their comrades as pleasant as can be! Dripping haunches are shared round as the scrunts find themselves curiously peckish, bolting down expertly-roasted, delicately seasoned perfumed meats with gum, fang and scaly beak. Kegs of Scruntweister are tapped, and goodwill to all scrunts is the order of the day. I mean, it might look to scrunts furthest from the fire that everyone else is shuffling around bumping into things, ravening at charred, flaming strips of filthy wolf and funneling septic runoff down their throats, but they are not in possession of all the facts. Besides, that falls squarely within the remit of standard scrunt behaviour. They don't get to judge. They are not the scrunt who gets to judge. Scrunt Box 8000 feet above sea level The fumes and the food lull the scrunts into a reverie, and enables them to forget their current situation – hurtling down a gravity well towards the ground locked in a metal box. Baroque though the Imperium of Man may be, however, they would not go to all this trouble solely to eliminate a bunch of scrunts. Apart from anything else, it's a waste of a perfectly good cargo container. The feeling of quiet goodwill is abruptly shattered as the retro-rockets engage. With a vengeance. There is a sudden ROAAARRRRRRRR as the burners ignite. The yelling and screaming is astounding to behold, as two hundred scrunts suddenly find their heads forced even further into their torsos by the g-forces, and they are flattened against the roof of the pod. The smouldering spit neatly kebabs a scrunt family, pinning them to the ceiling as the wolf skeleton rattles obscenely beneath them. The resultant smell of panic is indescribable, although a talented perfumer might detect hints of “justified suspicion” before their nose shuts down forever. The roaring and the rattling suddenly intensifies, and the pod lurches to one side, crushing the panicked scrunt hordes into one corner of the container. There is a zip and zing of a retro-rocket detaching and spiralling off away from the drop pod. Mercifully, everything shortly goes black. Malbrathia Surface, Two Hours Later Unknown Location https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AthwKDiT2o Green? What's with all this green? The scrunts gather morosely outside their wrecked container. About forty of your companions didn't make it, but at least that solves the immediate problem of rations. Everyone's got what passes for their luggage – their miscellaneous garbage and ale barrels survived the descent, albeit accounting for the lives of several more scrunts in the process. The wreckage itself will provide enough scrap metal for scrunty lean-tos in the short-term. All in all it was a remarkably successful landing, but a landing onto what? The air is clean. There are trees. The terrain rolls gently off into the distance. Grass grows underfoot. Squirrels bound from branch to branch. Birds chirrup faintly in the distance! Where is all the smog, the gloom, the crags, the industrial runoff? The factories pumping out unpleasantness, the dangerous machinery to get stuck in? What in the Emperor's name is this horrible, alien place? A shriek brings you back to your senses – that's more like it – as a small scrunt who has aimlessly scaled a tree begins to gesticulate frantically. A swift shake of the trunk brings him into position to report, and once he has snapped his arm back into place he gibbers about smoke, exhaust, a vehicle in the distance. You have company. It is safe to assume it is hostile. Or at least, once it sees you, it will be. The vehicle in question appears to be about half an hour away at current pace. It's hard to make out, but the small scrunt thinks it's a Chimera APC. No-one has any weaponry that can get through its hull. Lateral thinking and decisive action is required. The scrunts begin bickering almost immediately. –-------------------------- You survived!! Gumbo may optionally take two insanity points on seeing the roasting of the hosed up tiny wolf, depending how badly it affects him. We're about to embark on our first scrunt bicker. The tactical situation is this, courtesy of Gumbo's Scholastic Lore: Tactics:  click for big! Un-annotated here
You guys need to figure out what to do. I would suggest some sort of ambush. No tests against each other, just discussion. Second Prize will be awarded to the scrunt whose plan is chosen to be put into action by the other scrunts. Third Prize will be awarded to the scrunt whose plan is second-most popular. First Prize will possibly be awarded to the scrunt whose vote decides between two neck-and-neck options. Your prizes will be scavenged after the combat/lack of combat. I will lean towards trying as hard as possible to make your plans work unless they are truly, utterly retarded. Questions, confusion, please shout. Extra XP for good scrunty grudge/favour roleplaying, although you've all already got extra XP for your escapades on the ship. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 21:55 on Nov 10, 2014 |
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Nov 10, 2014 21:53
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Willpower, yep, or take two insanity points. Roller is here, post the link + result in your next post once you make it.
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Nov 11, 2014 00:13
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Couple quick things that you know in-character: > If you block off the road with a hastily engineered rockslide, the Chimera will probably go around it rather than spitting everyone out to dig at boulders. As mentioned, it can drive through trees (probably slowly), but prefers open ground. quote:The Chimera will drive on roads for preference. If it cannot drive on roads, it will drive on grass. If not grass, then broken ground. If not broken ground, then through trees. Finally, if all else fails, it will drive on rocks. (and by "drive on" I mean "through") > Drivers and gunners are unlikely to leave their vehicles if the situation could be in any way unknown or hostile. The squad may come out to gawk at things but the APC will still be able to do its thing. > If you can get close to the Chimera, you may be able to dash into/onto it before the turret can come into play. Even if you can't force a hatch you can still stuff firebombs etc. inside, or use tools on its hull.
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Nov 11, 2014 09:00
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If you recover a chimera in less-than-pristine condition it will still move so long as it has wheels and axles and scrunts to push it. Assuming you want it in somewhat functional capacity rather than as a mobile palanquin throne for you all, you have a technoscrunt, an operator who also has tech-use, and a lot of unskilled labour to help cobble it back together. Don't be scared about loving up the chimera, because you can put it back together again. Obviously capturing it intact is going to be better than slamming a rockslide into it, as you don't need to spend time and resources fixing it - plus, a scrunt patch-up job will be worse than a mint condition chimera - but consider a mint-condition capture as a benefit, not an essential. Dropping the chimera in a pit will gently caress it up pretty badly but you will be able to retrieve its husk for repairs. Moola you cannot discern weakpoints with your bionic eye at this range, but you can probably do so if you get close with your auspex. As an operator you know the Chimera has seriously weakened armour on its underside and rear. In addition, you are familiar with this make of vehicle and will gain hefty bonuses to prying open the hatches from the outside. You also have a lascutter, dude. Tin Tim, fire bombs do not create a carpet of flame - they explode and burn out. They can catch people on fire, and indeed probably will, but they will not pose a problem to charging into combat the next round - if you can bomb the chimera as troops disembark, you keep the panicked PDF, you lose scrunts having to charge through fire. Waroduce, these are PDF troopers. They ain't exactly elite, and they're not expecting sinkholes. If you disguise the pit properly the odds are that the driver won't see the hole through his limited viewslit - the odds shift even more in your favour if he's going quickly (i.e. combat speed) rather than at a steady cruise. FirstPersonShitter, a chimera falling onto a stake from 20m is probably going to get messed up no matter what side it falls on. You won't have time to whittle down a tree, but maybe you can find a big chunk of scrap metal from the drop pod that will fulfil the same role. Keep it coming folks, feel free to query stuff or say "actually I think it should be like this".
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Nov 11, 2014 19:43
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hey sweet an entire page of italics
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Nov 11, 2014 23:14
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Y'all got till Thursday evening, GMT, before things start coming to a head. I will post tonight with all the options that have come up. e: also will answer questions re: heavy stubbers etc Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 09:13 on Nov 12, 2014 |
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Nov 12, 2014 09:01
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The Forest Dropsite Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5558mNem89s The Chimera trundles gently along through the countryside, bouncing on its tracks occasionally as it passes over a particularly deep pothole. Inside, the PDF troops make desultory checks to their equipment, smoke lho sticks, or swig from canteens - they've been soldiering for a while now, but they're well behind the front lines, and at heart they're little more than a bunch of farmhands pressed into service and given rifles. It's just another afternoon spent checking up on random space debris, but it beats prisoner transfer duty. Maybe they can get this finished in time to pick up some booze from the commissariat while it's still light. Maybe there'll actually be some heavy bolter shells spare from the war effort and they can actually use the hull mounted gun for something other than decoration. The sergeant chews anxiously at his standard-issue cigar as the vehicle makes its way towards the smoke plume hazily visible in the distance. He's only two days from retirement. A handful of miles away, scrunts gibber and bicker. Most of the non-combat scrunts have instinctively faded away into the undergrowth or debris or undersoil, trusting in the guys with guns to deal with the situation. A handful of them have taken to the trees, peering down unblinking through the foliage like large, ugly barn owls. ----------- Phoon there should be a little bit saying "IP/CP" at the top of your sheet, IP stands for "insanity points". Bung it there. Collect 10 and get a prize! Tin Tim you pass and do not get an insanity point. Ignite Memories your heavy stubber has the following stats - Range 100m, -/-/8, 1d10+4 I, pen3, clip 75, 2full reload. In other words it has an accurate range of 100m, and like all weapons you're at -10 to hit up to twice that range, and -30 up to 4x that range. It cannot fire single shots, cannot fire semi auto bursts, and can get a maximum of eight hits on full auto. Single shots get +10 to hit, semiauto bursts get 0, full auto bursts get -10 to hit. It does 1d10+4 damage per shot, and punches through 3 points of armour automatically (i.e. it tears through infantry armour like it isn't there). It has a clip of 75 meaning you get 9 full bursts and one 3-round dribble before reloading. Reloading takes two uninterrupted combat rounds. Note that because it fires full auto you can do suppressing fire with this - rules come later but basically you can pin people in place by firing madly at them. The map isn't a tactical one and I didn't plan a real scale but let's say each square is 10x10m if we want to get all tactilol. Hint: don't get all tactilol yet. Don't worry about the crowd of scrunts, they can handle themselves by hiding/running. Their safety will only become a concern if you all hide, or something - dudes with guns will probably want to deal with other dudes with guns before dealing with dudes without guns. Were you going up against ravening chaos cultists this might play out differently. Tactical options raised by you scrunts are as follows, in broad strokes, as I understand them: Urok favours leaping out, from hiding, at the stopped chimera and wanging grenades through the viewports. I will say that smoke grenades in a confined space will be moderately effective at causing an exodus, but other grenades (frag, flame, halluc) will be significantly more effective. Remember you have a flamethrower, dude. Kreb favours use of a decoy in the road, followed by someone leaping out from hiding at the stopped chimera and wanging grenades through the open rear hatch. The decoy will then leap up in view of the possibly-wildly-hallucinating men with guns and a tank and either lure or chase them past an ambush line of scrunts. Groin wants to cut bits off the tank and then stuff bombs in it. I will say that you are unlikely to be able to do this from the side of the tank - however, if you can get on top of the tank you will likely remain unmolested unless the PDF get out to scrape you off, in which case you can move towards simply stuffing bombs in the open hatches. Gumbo appears to want to lure the PDF squad into the buildings and deal with them in there. This has the benefit of making the Chimera a non-issue during the bulk of the fight, although it does not actually deal with the whole tank problem per se. Grumb would like to shoot things with his gun after decoying the humans out of the chimera. Scurrilous wants to place a great big booby trap to engulf the PDF squad in flame once they disembark to look at a decoy. Grimply wants to decoy the chimera and shoot mans once they come out. Dak offers up grenades, for bombing purposes. There appears to be a lot of common ground regarding the main body of the plan - you all seem unwilling to drop the chimera down a big pit, which is fair enough, but the main points of agreement appear to be "bomb the ever living poo poo out of people after decoying the Chimera into stopping". We don't need to get too thrashingly autistic as to whether or not a particular decoy would be the most effective, although I agree, simply plopping a bunch of scrunts in plain view is likely to just get them shot because you all look disgusting and vile. If you can come up with something arresting (the sign doesn't quite cut it, although a bigger one with scrunt artefacts scattered about it might), we can go ahead and assume your decoy will work fine. The main point of contention appears to be "do you bomb the interior of the chimera or not". Doing so is obviously a bit more dangerous, but has the significant benefit of interfering with the well-being of the driver and gunner, possibly neutralizing the tank as well as the squad. Ultimately you're either going to have to get close to this tank to deal with it, or drop something enormous on it. If you wish to be certain of where the Chimera will pull up - well, they're probably here to look at the crash site. They probably won't look at the pit too hard unless something lures them there, focusing more on the enormous smoking pile of scrap metal that is your drop pod. If you can give them something interesting to gawk at, you can probably work out where they'll park with little difficulty. If I have gotten anything in the above confused please speak up, and shout if you have any more questions. Hopefully we will be in a position to cut down on italics tomorrow or Friday. You motherfuckers can work out among yourselves who deserves prizes for this scrunt bicker. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 21:23 on Nov 12, 2014 |
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Nov 12, 2014 20:53
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FirstPersonShitter posted:Didn't scalded say earlier that if it looks like actual trouble they'll probably stay in the tank rather than get out? I think we're safer luring them out with something interesting/valuable/weird than like active hostiles. Just the gunner and driver will remain in the chimera. The PDF squad will get out to investigate unless e.g. the chimera is parked in a forest which you have set on fire. From a metagame perspective this is basically me saying "you have a tank and a bunch of dudes to deal with" while at the same time not saying "The enemy squad sits in its metal box that you cannot scratch, killing you". I really cannot stress enough that at this stage you guys should be coming up with something that sounds fun rather than something that is Rainbow Six: Scrunt Edition. Later on in the game where you have actual anti-armour weapons and proper armour and loads of cool talents we can get properly tactilol and you can wipe out elite squads of renegade stormtroopers with interlocking fields of fire, but this is the first combat, against some farmhands in a tractor, and everyone's still learning the ropes. We're going to ease into the concept of "unforgiving combat" quite slowly. I'm knackered right now so will give you the rest of Thursday to stagger towards a consensus, and on Friday I will be coming up with some sort of battle map based on the soggy mess before me, and kicking off combat. e: mag boots and lascutter sounds hilarious and would indeed enable someone to lascut the chimera even if it's pelting around at top speed. Regarding sniping, an enemy squad taking fire from nearby are unlikely to want to focus on far-off snipers, if indeed they realise they're being picked off.
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Nov 13, 2014 20:42
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Ignite Memories you don't get to decide what other player scrunts do. Horrible mishmash amalgamation plan coming in a few hours!!
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Nov 14, 2014 19:56
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Chimera "Helsbrook" The Forest Dropsite Malbrathia-3 The sergeant glances up from studying the crude pictograph of his beautiful wife, holding their baby sons. "What kind of movement?" He tucks the picture away into his breastplate, next to the deeds to the farm on which he will be taking up residence on in a couple of days. "We.. we dunno, Sarge. We can't get a good look from here, but there's... somefink in the bushes. And it's written us somefink."  The sergeant curses under his breath. How the hell is he going to find time to read through and sign those life insurance papers if he keeps getting distracted? "Awight lads, . Looks like something mighta come down with that chunk o' space rock. If it was orks we'd know it already. If it was them piratey fuckers we wouldn't see poo poo. And we all know it's not Imperials as they're tryna get off this place!" A ripple of sniggers runs through the cramped interior of the vehicle. Despite his swaggering demeanour the sergeant's mind is racing trying to figure out what the hell he's up against - what caused that big fuckoff pit they just drove past? He's heard stories... "So we don't know what it is, so we're going to go investigate. Weapons hot, boys. Unna, bring us in close. Jace, start powering up the lascells, give us cover if we need it." The Chimera rumbles closer to the treeline, trundling to a stop. The hatch thuds down. All hell breaks loose. The Ambush The Forest Dropsite Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFfybn_W8Ak In the "Scrunt" model of project management, solutions tend to be delivered ad-hoc on a just-in-time basis. In other words the scrunts run around in a state of some confusion for a good long while before anyone manages to accomplish anything useful. On the other hand, being creatures not cursed with the twin burdens of "forethought" and "concern for collateral damage", once they do get going the scrunts comport themselves with surprising efficiency. They do not have a natural grasp of tactics so much as an innate sense for what would cause the most unpleasantness at any given moment. In battle, however, this is often the same thing. OOC: you all basically have a "surprise" round in which all this is happening but the PDF guys will continue to do what they were about to do before you interrupted them, which is to spill out of the tank. Except they'll spill out of the tank insane, and on fire. Urok and Gumbo leap with a scruntial roar from the piles of leaf mold in which they had concealed themselves. This is taken as the cue for Groin and Dak to drop from the trees onto the hull of the chimera! Groin immediately fires up his powered backpack and crouches down, focusing the lascutting torch through his bionic eye, and begins to force entry into the central turret. The clunk of his magboots engaging echoes through the vehicle. At the same time, Dak and Urok attempt to work their magic on the unfortunate PDF squad within the Chimera. Urok positively hoses down the interior of the Chimera with flaming napalm, while Dak manages to force open a firing port wide enough just long enough to jam a hallucinogen grenade in (+0 Strength test, 28 vs 32). The cramped nature of the Chimera's interior prevents the crude flamethrower from being used to its full effect - the packed bodies up front shelter those at the back from the worst of the heat. Four of the squad remain completely unscathed (+0 dodge test for the PDF + sarge - 4 successes!), and the flames only catch on the three luckless pointmen (+0 AG test to avoid catching aflame - 3 successes!). Those that are hit suffer terribly in the cramped compartment - third-degree burns and superheated inhalation almost knock four squad members out of combat immediately. Urok, in his enthusiasm, pumps the trigger a little too hard. It falls off. OOC - damage rolls here. higher is better. nine is a jam, for flamers. YOU JAMMED FOUR TIMES HOW It's like how the old saying goes - what's bad for the flamer is good, good, good for the mind-altering gas. The beleaguered PDF troopers can hardly avoid breathing in the fumes of the repurposed medical supplies Dak has forced through into their compartment, and only Trooper Ritzstein, thanks to an overactive pituitary gland, avoids succumbing to the neo-lysergic cocktail (-20 T test, one success!). Dak never quite found the time to test exactly what it was he had in those medical ampoules before mixing them all up and jamming them into grenade cases. It seems the chief ingredient of this grenade was probably frenzon, as the screaming, raging, flaming PDF squad boil from the Chimera in a murderous rage. OOC - gently caress rolling for every single PDF dude individually, they all took the same roll and were driven into Frenzy. Including the tank crew. This kinda does what it says on the tin - they will melee if possible, gain minor melee bonuses and major shooty maluses, and will attack in preference to doing anything else. This includes beating out flames. They also can't be suppressed! What the gently caress, guys! It's not immediately apparent to the ranged scrunts what's going on, but they see flames, they hear shouting. Presumably, gunfire should follow.  laughable tactical map -------- WHAT DID YOU DO WHAT DID YOU DOOOOO ok so basically this loving hallucinogen grenade has changed the dynamics of how this encounter was going to work. What I was envisaging was a sort of running battle where the PDF try to get to cover while the chimera covers them, but that's... kinda gone out the window now. re: the map, the Rambos are your PDF guys, and the Arnold is the sarge (tougher melee combatant). They are all frenzied for three rounds, except Rambo number 9 who is cowering in the Chimera. Therefore they will try and engage the nearest enemy in melee. If they are e.g. locked in a driver's compartment, they will probably try to ram. If they are locked in a gunner compartment they will fire wildly, at a BS penalty. STATUS REPORT Go have a look at this thing again and check the combat actions on pp12-15. UROK has ACTED. His flamer has jammed. You will hear more on this next round. You're in melee with a flaming, almost-dead Rambo 3 if you want to be - currently he's just next to you at point-blank. SCURRILOUS has NOT ACTED. Retroactively, you have not wasted grenades on a booby trap because it's kinda gone out the window now. You are just barely in normal range with your hosed up gun. Pls tell me what you want to do. GRIMPLY has NOT ACTED. Same as above except short range, meaning a bonus to hit. Pls tell me what you want to do - shoot random dudes, try to finish off wounded dudes, or go for the sarge? KREB has NOT ACTED. You're in front of the tank, and although you can see the sarge, you may wish to move. Or you may not! Assume you can find cover so long as you don't move to a plain grassy square - you can move far enough in a double move so that you've got everyone in view (remember your Hip Shooting talent), or half move to get 1, 6 + 7 in view. GRUMB has NOT ACTED. Same as above, except you can't see anyone. Such is the price of decoyhood~~. Besides, suppressing fire will now not work, so you might just wanna shoot mans. Full move for all in view, half move for 1 + 6. GUMBO has NOT ACTED. You're in melee with a flaming, almost-dead Rambo 5 if you want to be - currently he's just next to you at point-blank. DAK has ACTED. You know what you've done. GROIN has ACTED. One more full round action before you've got a hole big enough to interfere with the gunner. Let's say squares are 2m I don't know I need to go drink something you goddamn scrunts Do your own rolls if you like. Otherwise I will do them. Please don't reroll until you get a good result, that's a bit silly. If you gently caress up a roll you can spend Fate Points to reroll. Post in recruitment thread if confused on generals ("what is combat"), post in this thread if confused on specifics ("what is my lasgun's range"). I need to do a quick primer on how to do combat in the rec thread, but not right now - for now just tell me your actions. e: in the chaos it's not immediately obvious who's wounded. If you just spray and pray I'll assign shots randomly; if you use an aim action, tell me if you're going for a wounded dude or not. If you have a weedy gun, go for the wounded - if you have a huge gun, go for unwounded. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 23:39 on Nov 14, 2014 |
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Nov 14, 2014 23:36
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Double move is a full-round action meaning you can't shoot. I forgot that the movement tables in Only War are completely insane (rules as written a regular guy using Sprint can only go 72 consecutive metres without being dehabilitatively winded for four hours) but if you want numbers on how far you can move let's say your Ag bonus in squares for half-move / triple for full round move (thanks Sprint), quadruple your Ag bonus for a charge, and eight times for running (Sprint again) Subject to change if these seem silly. Maybe it is the scale that seems silly? Tactical map only a rough guideline. Objects in rear mirror may be closer than they appear.
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Nov 15, 2014 00:47
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The Ambush The Forest Dropsite Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ts4axsSHlpA Coruscating beams of light flicker from the windows of the buildings to the north. Four of them come from a scrunt who knows how to maintain his weapon. The fifth does not. Scurrilous blazes merrily away and, luckily, has picked the right sight to aim down. PDF trooper #8 takes a solid hit to the chest, staggering him - the followup shot messily burns his unarmoured right leg. Blackened bone is exposed to the air, and he immediately goes into shock, crumpling to the ground. His last moments are a mixture of hatred and horror - a common emotion among those dealing with scrunts. Scurrilous' hosed up las-abomination crackles and hums as it discharges the rest of its powerpack into him, giving the scrunt a pleasant feeling akin to sitting on a washing machine, but the device will take some time to reload. Grimply, on the other hand, picks his target with admirable cool. He lines up carefully, draws a bead on the raving, gesticulating sergeant, realises his error and switches to aiming at the human raving, gesticulating sergeant, and exhales as he smoothly pulls the trigger. Smoke immediately billows from the focusing chamber of his maltreated longlas, and the charred remains of a tiny lizard drops from the vent port. The resultant beam bounces off the sarge's mirrored shades, neatly lighting his cigar for him. There are no other effects. Closer to the fray, Gumbo suddenly finds himself mixing it up with furious antagonists. He goes with the flow and lashes out wickedly with his chainsword, biting deep into trooper 5's left leg (19 versus a great big number). That'll cut the big fucker down to size! In his enthusiasm he practically saws the drat thing off (10 damage (Scruntious Fury!) + SB 3 + 2 from chainsword), but the teeth of his weapon get caught somewhere deep in the luckless trooper's femur. Arterial blood fountains and hisses as the flaming human crashes to the ground, practically wrenching the sword from Gumbo's grasp. It will take precious seconds to recover his balance, leaving him unable to parry or dodge. Kreb scampers through the bushes, hissing like a kettle and blasting like a madman. One of his shots strikes home, catching trooper #1 in the back of the thigh (29 vs 50). The scrunts apparently are taking in personally that their opponents are much taller, focusing their attacks on the unarmoured legs of the PDF troopers, but under the influence of the frenzon gas, the trooper barely blinks as he takes Kreb's hot bolt in the rear end like a champ (1 damage + 4 from lasrifle means minimal damage was done). He'll feel it in the morning, if he survives, but at the moment he's still fighting fit. Grumb stares down the Chimera, asking himself if he feels lucky. He decides he does not, and would rather shoot something more his own size. A quick tactical relocation later, and he's in a position to do so. The initial onslaught was terrible, but now the PDF have their wits about them and are in a position to retaliate. The Chimera's engine revs ominously. ----------- conglaturation. the two ranged powerhouses who attacked managed to do atrociously on their damage rolls, while Gumbo decided "overkill" could do with ramping up a bit Updated map is as follows. Grumb I have put you at point blank range because it's funny and you can shoot better like this. Unless you move even closer, the frenzied PDF will attack other scrunts in preference to you as they are closer/more obvious.  Now that your enemies can actually fight back, y'all are going to be acting in initiative order. This is 1d10 + AG bonus (unless you have talents y'all don't have) + misc bonuses. This does not mean you have to post in initiative order! Continue to post post post as per usual! If there's a tie between a PC and an NPC, PC goes first. Any ties between PCs or NPCs, I will flip a coin. Init order is as follows: code:I still need to do a quick primer on combat in the recruitment thread but post if you know what you're doing. Future combats will not be such a fuckin' cakewalk I mean jesus christ these PDF guys are loving everything up. e: oh poo poo i forgot about the guys in the Chimera, hang on. They rolled really well! Enjoy!! Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 20:50 on Nov 15, 2014 |
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Nov 15, 2014 20:29
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You do, I'm afraid. Can only melee adjacent dudes and they're a square away. You do have the movement spare to back up and then charge back in, though, if you want the +20 bonus. Seems a bit weird but whatever I'm sure you can fluff it up somehow as a scrunt wardance or something.
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Nov 15, 2014 21:50
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Yeah but it'd be pretty funny
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Nov 16, 2014 21:25
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The Horror The Forest Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e8o7Kv97jnA Seconds ago this was a routine patrol mission. Now there's flames, bullets, psychoactive drugs and two smouldering corpses up in the mix. Scrunts don't go for half measures. They also have a marked aversion to "sensible", as Groin decides to fight fire with smoke. His bionic arm, presumably with a view to self-preservation, has wandered over to his pistol holster and drawn a menacing-looking autopistol, while his biological arm, presumably with a view to causing as much chaos as possible, flickers in and out of the turret. With a satisfying foooooom the smoke grenade drops between the gunner's legs and erupts in thick white plumes. It immediately vents into the rest of the Chimera, billowing out of the turret hatch, into the driver's compartment, and through the passenger compartment, out into the melee. The insane, flaming PDF troopers thrash around, howling blindly. Grimply chooses this moment to line up a perfect shot on a non-smouldering guardsman. The sudden eruption of smoke makes him flinch at precisely the wrong moment, meaning instead of neatly drilling out the unfortunate's aorta, it merely punches a fist-sized steaming hole through his chest. Grimply mutters under his breath, but at least his rifle's working properly now that lizard's out of the focusing chamber. Trooper #1 drops to the ground, twitching. OOC: Even with the smoke dropping your damage down (I took off the last dice roll), you did just enough damage to drop a trooper into the critical threshold, so he dies. It was the one that Kreb had shot in the rear end the previous round. The Chimera driver, Unna, shrieks hoarsely. In her maddened state she still has a grasp of cause and effect. A flamer just fired and there's smoke everywhere and she can't see a thing. The Chimera must be on fire! poo poo! She hammers at the controls, yanks the wheel away (odds!) from the forest, and floors the gas. She doesn't get very far, immediately crashing into a hefty stump. The Chimera's paintjob is scratched and she's slammed her face into the dashboard, but in her raging state she barely notices. Groin is still maglocked to the top of the Chimera while this is going on, and, although he topples backwards onto his rear end with a haunting squelch, suffers no ill effects. Dak is not so lucky, and is too slow (56 vs ag 38 for a dodge test) to avoid being beaned by the side of the tank as it begins to turn! As the vehicle wasn't moving at any great speed it is no different from one of the many, many times a scrunt is smacked in the face in a given day, but he is knocked prone by the impact. OOC: no wounds, Dak, thanks to toughness and armour and the fact that the chimera had just started its movement, but you're prone. Half action to stand up, or just fire while lying on your back like some sort of pervert lizard. With an angry yell the gunner, Jace, lunges from the turret. He's attacking Groin with his bare hands! He's actually touching a scrunt on purpose! He gets a firm grip of Groin's neck (25 vs PDF weapon skill + 10 for frenzy), who fails to wriggle free (74 vs ag 40 to dodge). The scrunt turns redder than usual as he fights for breath, and he can't reach down to disengage his maglock boots, either! OOC: lol. You're in a grapple. He's probably going to choke you or stab you. You can try and break free (opposed strength test - you roll, he rolls, whoever gets more degrees of success wins), you can try and wriggle free (rolling against Ag - 20 as you don't have Acrobatics), or you can try and control the grapple (opposed strength test again). Scurrilous aimlessly fires into the middle distance while Gumbo capers around. The grizzled, mohawked scrunt returns to the fight with a vengeance, chopping savagely at the second PDF trooper. He catches him just above the left elbow (41 vs 40 + 20 for the charge), but the chainsaw teeth fail to catch on the trooper's charred flesh (3 damage + 3 (strength) + 2 (chainsword) = 8 damage before toughness soak). Still, there's enough sudden bloodloss that trooper 2 can no longer stand, and he crumples to the floor. It is uncertain whether bloodloss or conflagration will claim him first. Kreb adjusts his mighty weapon and points it at the crowd of flaming men as the smoke floods over them. With terrifying, unscruntly accuracy he blasts again and again. A handful of shots narrowly misses the sarge, but his men aren't so lucky - by the time the noise stops, troopers 3, 6, and 7 are shrieking out their life on the forest floor. OOC: jesus loving christ The Sarge has seen practically his entire squad wiped out in a matter of moments by a gaggle of filty mutants. His mind snaps entirely.  With an incoherent yell he stumbles towards the closest creature he is facing, ignoring the heavy gunner scrunting in the bushes or the medic lying in the mud. He staggers towards Urok and swipes furiously at the scrunt with his sword. Despite Urok's attempts to backpedal (90 vs ag-20 to dodge due to no skill!), a fearsome backhanded slash connects with his stomach (18 vs sarge's WS). The flak vest absorbs the worst of the blow (six wounds!), otherwise Urok would be able to examine his lunch in minute detail. As it is, he'll have to do it the old-fashioned scrunty way, by vomiting it up and eating it again. Grumb merrily blazes away into the smoke before realizing that most of his targets are dead already. Grunting, he adjusts his aim and turns the remaining PDF trooper into a fine red mist. OOC: overkill. like, amazing overkill. You miscounted and got 5 degrees of success (1 + 1 for each full 10), as well as another one for the "aim" attack. Then you lost two degrees of success thanks to smoke. Your gun has enough penetration to blow straight through PDF armour. The guy is dead in whatever messily inventive way you choose because you hit him in each location! -------- Map update!  Urok you still need to act and you're now in melee with the sarge. Dak you may wish to revise your previous action. If you fire into melee you get a penalty of -20. If you miss because of this penalty, you hit the other guy in the melee, c.f. Urok. Because of what you rolled, you will miss because of the penalty. Turns continue to proceed in initiative order, so post post post those actions and try to work out what to do with that chimera. It's not crashed, it's just not currently moving. Frenzon wears off in two turns.
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Nov 17, 2014 23:15
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The Sound And The Fury The Forest Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBfD1-aOiwI Dak scramples to his feet. It's a bit like scrambling, only with more angry stamping and gesticulating with a length of pipe wrench. Urok rampages. He is a scrunt pushed to the limit. With a roar, he drops his flamer and smashes his gloves together, and lashes out with a fearsome one-two punch aimed squarely at groin height! Both punches connect solidly (35, 16 against WS 43 + 30 all-out attack - 10 two weapon fighting = 63) as the sarge fails to dodge in time (77 vs sarge's ag - 20) and cannot parry due to his altered mindset. The left jab tickles the sarge slightly as the shock capacitors fail to engage (soaked entirely by armour and toughness), but the right glove's apparently got enough juice for two as it discharges savagely straight into the sarge's junk! (jesus christ you righteous furied on an attack to the bollocks). The abused human's eyes roll back in his sockets and he sinks to the ground, twitching, and probably out of the fight.  OOC: OK, you criticalled him into being stunned for one round, and then you shocked him into being stunned for three more rounds. Realistically, he's at your mercy - any scrunt can kill him off automatically if they spend a half-action next to him to slit his throat. No-one's got any manacles, have they? Groin struggles and scratches against the three choking hands clamping across his neck. Wait, three hands? With a hiss he manages to persuade his bionic arm to stop attacking its host, and instead turn its attentions to the large, angry man on top of him. Groin continues the assault on all things testicular, and his metal talons clamp down like pistons on the ballsack of the unfortunate trooper (36 vs strength of 39 = 1 DoS!). The frenzied maniac doesn't take the slightest bit of notice! (2 vs PDF strength means he wins the opposed strength roll by a lot!). Groin's eyes bulge as desperately as the trooper's scrotum as the choking continues. OOC: no damage done yet; that will come on the gunner's turn. Hey, at least he's not shooting at you. Muffled whimpering comes from the passenger compartment of the Chimera, but no-one is really in a position to pay it much mind. --------- Waiting on Grimply before I do more actions, but because the sarge is basically dead now you may wish to focus efforts elsewhere. Please stop scrunting people in the testicles it's uncouth. If you've already posted actions that now no longer apply, lemme know what you want to do instead. Chimera rear hatch door is still hanging open, if you can catch it. I mean, it's probably going to try to ram you, so it'll be close, at least. Don't think you can really do much to it at range, so you're going to have to get on it or get in it and sort the frenzied driver out. Alternatively you guys could try to kill the fellow currently choking the living poo poo out of Groin - I will say that you only hit Groin on 90+ for this, because he's flat on his back and the gunner's mounted him. The gunner's kinda still half in the hatch and Groin's maglocked down, so they won't fall off the chimera no matter how it moves. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 22:29 on Nov 18, 2014 |
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Nov 18, 2014 22:27
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AAAaaAAAaaAAAAAAAGHGGGHAAAAAGH The Forest Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFl7fxovBl0 Grimply lightly toasts the arm of the rampaging gunner, removing part of his treasured "I <3 SEVERUS" tattoo! This cunning attempt at psychological warfare saps his will to fight! (shot did 2 damage) With a whirr of tortured gears and a cherry-red clutch, the Chimera then uproots the treestump and continues its sweeping curve. The smoke clears sufficiently for the driver to realise that there's no raging fire in the back of the passenger compartment, but there still remains the raging fire in her heart. Choking with rage she spots mis-shapen figures racing out of the murk towards her. Naturally, she floors the accelerator again in an attempt to run them down. Gumbo's eyes widen to almost normal size as the dozer blade of the APC comes careening towards him. It's at nowhere near the speed necessary for a full-blown, red-pancake, distressingly-large-roadkill ram, but those spikes are sharp! Gumbo avoids being skewered but doesn't quite get out of the way in time (47 vs untrained dodge at 12), opting instead to leap up and thud into the front armour of the Chimera. By landing on his face he mitigates the worst of the damage (did a greatly lessened ram attack and all the damage got soaked), and clings tenaciously to the front of the tank with one hand, brandishing his chainsword in the other. OOC: kinda reskinned a dodge and a move all into one. You are now on, rather than in, the tank. Next turn you are in a position to either go for the driver or for the gunner, up to you. I know you wanted the rear hatch but the tank had other ideas. The gunner, Jace, continues his frenzied assault on Groin, ignoring the equally frenzied assault on his own. His muscles bulge, as does his ballsack, as he batters Groin's head against the roof of the Chimera. The scrunt begins to see stars, and his struggles grow weaker. OOC: Groin takes 1 damage and 1 level of fatigue after completely loving up another opposed strength test by like eight degrees! You are now at -10 to all actions until you can have an hour's rest! Technically this guy wounded you in the non-bionic arm but whatever. Jace rears back for a killing strike, but chooses his timing extremely poorly. Scurrilous has been enthusiastically firing in the general direction of the Chimera, and by an absolute fluke (5 vs "ok I'll give him a one-in-twenty chance of actually doing anything useful oh gently caress dammit jesus") his uncontrolled burst of fire stitches jagged holes across Jace's chest (two shots actually did damage, causing 7 points of damage in all). The human reels from the impact and from loss of blood, and appears to be on his last legs. OOC: drat you Grumb , with un-scruntly agility, barrels from the bushes and swings himself up into the Chimera's troop compartment as it hurtles past. There looks to be a hefty bulkhead-style door leading to the compartment the driver would share with the hull gunner (if there was one) - it'll probably be locked for combat, but it's probably nothing that a terrifying, unnaturally muscly scrunt can't handle. There's also a whimpering human clutching his broken arm braced in the corner, but he's probably fine where he is.Kreb and Dak watch inscrutably as Urok joins Gumbo on the front of the Chimera. With a roar he batters at the viewslits, and manages to force an arm inside! (17 vs 40 Strength - 20 [difficulty]) He swipes animalistically at the driver, who snaps and slavers at his outstretched arm! OOC: alright we're waiting on Kreb + Dak actions, and Urok managed to somehow snap off enough bits of the viewport that he and Gumbo can make melee attacks, at a penalty, on the driver. The Sarge dreams of better days, as electricity coruscates through his lower body. The Chimera's track passes inches from his head as it thunders past. ---------- when in doubt, jump onto the tank and hold on for dear life.  alright so you've basically covered the chimera in scrunts. the driver can't see where she's going and she's still accelerating because she's still insane. the drugs will wear off after her next turn, after which she will realise the reality of her situation. i would suggest dealing with this set of affairs as quickly as possible. also moola is dying pls help him Dak and Kreb you still have actions for this round. I have delayed them for now. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 23:00 on Nov 19, 2014 |
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Nov 19, 2014 22:04
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Basically I can still use that on the gunner instead of the sarge, but now you're shooting into melee with a weapon that could easily kill Groin if it hits him - it is however incredibly unlikely to hit him. I want to make sure you're still cool with that! Shooting a full auto burst into the back of the tank is also possible because Grumb hasn't yet dived in there by the time you take your action. Not sure what you're going for though other than trying to kill that dude with the broken arm. e: durr me am dum you actually did rolls and they're enough to not hit Groin. I'll roll with that.
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Nov 20, 2014 09:01
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The End The Forest Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMXFu4d36Dk Kreb blazes away, oozing gleeful drool from his scaly little beak as Dak scampers up the side of the Chimera, swinging himself onto the roof like the chimp that all the other apes throw poo poo at. The medic braces himself for an attack by the frenzied gunner, but instead is greeted by a charred set of limbs. He flinches away as a leg rolls off the chimera, and makes a snatch at an arm to keep for later. Kreb's curious rifle has essentially vaporised the torso of the turret gunner with two lucky bolts. Groin moans theatrically as his bionic arm makes flapping motions. Dak gives him a cursory glance and scowls. The mincing little sod wasted his time for this! Grimply has had his target taken away from him. He sighs in relief as his boots remain safe for another day, but is also a bit peeved. He vents his frustration on a stunningly lucky hit to the rear of the Chimera - his shot lances out, deep into the interior of the vehicle, whistling past Grumb's ear and burning out some crucial wiring for the motive system. The APC genuinely won't be able to take many more shots like that before its structure is compromised to the point its systems begin to fail. OOC: snipers can damage tanks if they get behind them and roll well! Might wanna remember that if you go up against lightly-armoured vehicles! If you'd righteous furied and got extremely lucky you genuinely could have immobilised it in one shot, as with absolute top-tier rolls you can probably knock out a track on anything up to a Leman Russ. That's like a 0.005% chance though Gumbo and Urok cling on for dear life as the driver, Unna, swerves and veers. Her vision is obscured by scrunts, and she lurches the wheel hard to the right in an attempt to shake the little shits off her vehicle. Urok clings on tenaciously (13 vs strength 40), Dak desperately clutches at Groin's anchored legs, but the natural oils in Gumbo's skin work to his disadvantage and he loses his grip, flying off the Chimera and landing in a crumpled heap on the concrete road! (90 vs strength lmao). Thankfully the APC isn't actually travelling all that fast as it veers madly left and right, and other than some nasty road rash the scrunt is fine (after toughness soak you only take 2 damage). The grim reality of her situation sets in, and Unna begins to go into shock as rational thought begins creeping back. Her only thought is flight! Flight from these horrible little things! Grumb is in a unique position to stymie her plans, what with holding a great big machinegun and only being separated from her by a puny, massive door! The injured human sharing the passenger compartment whimpers some more, and tries to scuffle further away from the hulking midget. ------ The tank's driving off with all you scrunts still on it!  OK: gunner is dead! Honestly, at this point the combat is pretty much over - scrunts swarm the chimera, other scrunts watch aimlessly. If y'all prefer we can have one last narrative action from Urok, Grumb and Dak to bring this to a dramatic close ("my scrunt hauls the driver out through the window and flings her into the bushes where she breaks her neck and is devoured by stoats"), or you can scrunt it out to the bitter end using combat rules if you really want everyone else to have nothing to do for ages. Start thinking about what you want to do after combat (it is assumed you will loot the corpses, and the chimera). And I don't just mean "I use tech-use to make a titan out of the remains!!", I mean priorities for your character. You've been dropped on an apparently hostile planet (in fairness you attacked first) with limited weaponry, supplies, absolutely no information, no way of contacting "friendly" imperial troops, no apparent goals, and a bunch of useless scrunts. You have no promethium refineries secreted in your backpacks, but thankfully Chimeras run on drat near anything, so scrunts chopping wood will do in a pinch. Get better/more fuel, get a longer range. You also have a bunch of footslogging civilians, far too many to fit in the Chimera - they might want transport, too. Perhaps you want to make a fort? Steal a helicopter and become airborne cavalry? Get headscarves and become an insurgent terrorist group? Loot a church? Tip cows? Sell scrunty blankets to the natives? Find more scrunts and become warlords? Ditch these scrunts and become scrunt-hunters? I will not keep track of every drat lasgun and clip you loot. Instead any matériel, other than the exotic stuff ("Hey, a rocket launcher!") you find will go into the custody of Geoffrey, a scrunt with a wheelbarrow and a knowing grin. This will be to your benefit. I will explain later. So: once we deal with your immediate after-combat actions and celebrations, we'll divvy out XP and whatever strange loot you find, we will deal with "requisitioning" new supplies, and we will start thinking where to scrunt off to next.
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Nov 20, 2014 22:16
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The Aftermath The Forest Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OdcskfqXH5I Urok squeezes his arm through the gap in the Chimera's viewslit just as its wheels go over an unfortunate tuft of grass. Unna is flung forward in her seat, and is caught in the temple by Urok's wild flailings. Her skull crumples like a soggy napkin and she slumps further forward. Eventually, the Chimera rumbles to a halt. The scrunts slowly relax their grip on the tank, and seem unsure as to what to do next. It is unknown how many times they have actually been on the winning end of a fight. Insofar as it is possible to tell, they seem to be thinking about things. Maybe they're learning. ------- Several hours later Scrunts wander aimlessly around the dropsite, staring at bushes or aimlessly clubbing at chunks of metal. Guns go un-reloaded, wounds go un-tended. Off in the distance to the west, the battered and broken sergeant slowly drags himself back to civilisation by his good arm, cigar stub clenched between splintered molars. Drag. Groan. Rest. None of the scrunts have quite gathered the wherewithal to interfere with him, although should the thought strike them it could easily spell his doom. OOC: MAYBE ACTUALLY POST WHAT YOU WANT TO DO WITH THIS GUY HUH Not much has happened. Grumb emerged from the rear of the Chimera carrying a bawling human in his arms just in time to see Kreb begin his grisly feast. It appears to have shocked the trooper into a state of mute terror, and he and Grumb both sit together by a tree, gibbering faintly and staring at nothing. Kreb currently reclines under a bush, full to bursting on fresh flesh, pawing at his false beard and drowsily thinking scrunt thoughts. Only Grimply and Scurrilous appear to have the drive to do anything, possibly due to their previous distance from the recent melee. Grimply, abashed, busies himself scrunting around the nearby forest, searching for points of interest in the distance and roaming across four or five miles of country. It's quite damp, drizzly and leafy, limiting his vision somewhat, but he is able to make out broken country and hills to the north, a downward gradient to the south, and a smokey haze interspersed with flashes of light from something over the horizon to the east. There are no urban centres within easy walking distance that he can see, although cottages dot the hillsides here and there. The scrunt marshalls his faculties in preparation for describing his surrounds to other, more urban scrunts - there are things called farms where food comes from. Some of these "farms" grow food that stays in one place, whereas others grow walking food. Maybe these are the first kind, or maybe the food has walked off somewhere. He doesn't know. He leaves a few snares out to capture walking-food just in case, and robs a couple of birds nests for some walking-around snacks.  awww Scurrilous, meanwhile, is a blur of activity. He scampers towards the Chimera, robes flailing behind him, coming perilously close to revealing more of a scrunt than most would wish to see. His robot companion lurches and totters behind him, wheely-ing over tussocks and rocks and gouting smoke from his exhaust. Over the next couple of hours, Scurrilous gives the Chimera a once-over, then a twice-over, then a work-over. In an effort to make it more roomy he removes some obviously pointless regulatory mechanisms, and overclocks the hydraulic fuel compressors until they're keening at a more acceptable pitch. He welds a few of the more egregious holes shut, and secrets a small thumbtack right in the middle of the driver's seat, chuckling scruntily to himself. He takes stock of the vehicle in front of him: quote:LOOTED PDF CHIMERA THIRD CLASS, CODENAME "_____________" The scrunt soars on the wings of inspiration. Why, with the right supplies, and with enough time, he could make this vehicle amphibious as a Chimera is meant to be, or he could add guns, or reinforce its armour, or install enhanced command and control capabilities, or... SCR-417 edges faintly away from the gnashing scrunt, and tries to ignore its moans. It instead attempts to concentrate on the crackling of the Chimera's radio. Other scrunts appear to be blearily emerging from their reveries. A large group of civilian scrunts appear to be busying themselves with a jettisoned retro-rocket from the drop pod. With a roar and a whoop they get the thing working again, incinerating a young scrunt too slow to get out of the way - it shudders and whines, but the rocket holds fast to the side of the pod. Given enough fuel, they will have a forge! Other scrunty family groups look like they're collecting scrap metal. In the absence of any other input, the scrunts look like they will simply set up shop in the middle of this forest, easily visible from the road and with no real fresh source of supplies, sustenance or booze. Decisions should probably be made about what to do next. Wounds need patching, prisoners need seeing to, and these idiot civilian scrunts need some direction. ---------------- do stuff you fags. Update your charsheets with grenades/wounds taken if you haven't already. If you don't do it I'll know and I'll come stare through your windows. You all get 500XP for good scruntin' and for good stuff on the ship before planetfall. Check the recruitment thread in a bit for how to spend this. You're all currently on 0xp except Grumb who's on negatives thanks to my cheating, so you should all have 500 to spend except him. In terms of immediate stuff to do I'm guessing you'll all reload and clear jams, but Dak will actually have to roll to do medic stuff. You have a prisoner to interrogate, another one who's currently slowly escaping, and a bunch of scrunts currently engaged in making a shanty town in a really loving stupid and obvious place. The Chimera also has a recieve/broadcast radio - presumably it's tuned to Severan channels at the moment but you could also see what other broadcasts are on. Perhaps some social skills could be used to deal with all of these states of affairs! Grimply has done a bit o' scouting, but he only had a couple of hours to do so. There is nothing immediately nearby that he spotted. You can scrount more the next game day if you want - the chimera covers more ground, but is more obvious. For context - you should have picked this up from, y'know, the intro and everything, but you are a bunch of scrunts hurled into civilian territory behind the front lines of Severan forces, who are up against an Imperial fighting retreat. There's no huge buildup of forces around here, hence why a bunch of PDF were despatched to check you out rather than, say, a crack infantry company, but basically the more noise you make and stuff you loot, the more you'll go up against, and the more pressure you'll take off the imperials, and the happier the imperials will be. So while you can tool around in the chimera blazing the multilaser at trees, you might find yourself in a position to have to use it for more serious endeavours. The scrunts also have a forge. Equipment may be forthcoming. If you want them to set up Scrunttown as a home base that's perfectly fine, but you'll have to actively work towards that through, like, plans and rolls and stuff, it won't happen automatically.
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Nov 25, 2014 21:20
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The Drop Site The Forest Malbrathia-3 Dak cracks his knuckles and medics the hell out of the wounded. He effortlessly staples Urok's wounds shut, stitches the intestines back together, and even signs his name in the fine suturing around the edges (Urok is back to full health, i.e. has no damage). He finds a little hypo-spray in his medkit and experiments with actually cleaning out wounds before stitching them up. It seems to work well, and he considers making it part of his standard approach in future. He spends the rest of the time ambling around aimlessly, occasionally vaguely wondering what's in his remaining halluc grenade. He suckles at the firing pin vaguely, but doesn't get a buzz. OOC: Dak knocks his roll out of the park - he probably has enough successes left over to heal any other PC scrunts that seek medical attention, even accounting for the penalty he will take for multiple patients at once. I mean, there's no reason to massively over-heal Urok and then roll again for the other scratches and bruises. You can still retroactively do stuff, this didn't take very long. Groin recovers from his choking quite quickly, catching his breath within a few minutes. He could stop off at Dak to get his cuts and bruises looked at, but spends the rest of his time staring intently at Scurrilous from quite close range, not saying a great deal and breathing heavily. Occasionally he strokes the Chimera protectively with his flesh arm, while the mechanical one makes rodeo motions from time to time. Perhaps the two scrunts between them will be able to come up with a name for their new metal steed. The magboots make a convenient latrine, providing both scrunts with the opportunity to attend to their business while not stepping away from their work. OOC: Groin has no fatigue any more! He also is hanging out with Scurrilous who, although he ain't posted yet, is apparently trying to make some pintle-mounted weapon for the Chimera. Presumably he'll want to patch it up and fix some of the structural damage - Groin has tech-use and so can give a +10 to assist in this, and a further +10 for general vehicle autistry as well as having a great big welder coming out of his eye. Urok violates the crippled sergeant's personal space. His feeble protestations are cut off by primitive electroshock therapy, and he lies limp and twitching while Urok's filthy hands roam all over his body. After a particularly invasive body search, Urok comes away with several fine cigars, a small book of matches, a bunch of insurance papers that he can't read, a small polaroid photograph of the sarge's family, and a locket containing a snatch of blonde hair. And hey, there's something else here, hidden in his backpack... OOC: you nicked all his personal mementos! You also got from the sergeant whatever it is you end up getting as your end-of-fight loot. This hasn't yet been determined. You can still do other stuff, this didn't take very long. Kreb stands guard over Geoffrey, the wheelbarrow scrunt, with a slightly crazed glint in his eye. It's unnerving, and more than once Kreb emits a kind of yelping moan just as Geoffrey considers secreting something away in his robes. Rattled, the quartermaster (well, possibly eighth-master) ends up gathering slightly more matériel than would otherwise be expected. OOC: Kreb nails a Perception test to make sure Geoffrey doesn't steal from you!! This would normally be Scrutiny vs Sleight of Hand, but G's just a regular scrunt without that skill so Kreb can get away with a standard Per test Grimply is a scrunt with drive! A scrunt with ambition! A scrunt who gets things done! A scrunt with serious mental issues (so basically a scrunt)! His bizarre incoherent interrogation of the sergeant turns up no coherently useful information, although what fragments he does obtain, coupled with Dak's earlier observations that the humans showed up quite quickly, gives him reason to believe the PDF outpost is no more than an hour or so's drive away to the east. Grimply is also a scrunt with a worrying knack for deceit. Aided by Grimply's mynah-bird-like imitation, and the scrunt's knowledge of the sargeant's rank and number, the hapless PDF vox operator buys the story of internecine mutiny hook, line and sinker. Somewhat worryingly, he does not stop to question how a single sergeant could wipe out his own entire squad. At least with the unwitting assistance of the vox operator, the scrunts can now rest easy that no Severan reinforcements will be despatched to the dropsite in the immediate future, giving them time to fortify or move out as appropriate. However, it's tricky to foresee how the Severans will react to tales of a rampaging hunter-killer Imperial unit far behind their front lines. OOC: lmao Grimply considers scouting again and checking his traps, but as he has literally just done this there is probably not much point. He makes a note to do so after the great scrunt council that Gumbo is organising takes place. He already knows of a couple of farmsteads the scrunts could head towards, though. He ponders this as he empties out his magboots. Gumbo gets his wounds sorted (back to no damage), and begins harassing scrunts. He is a surprisingly effective organiser, when push comes to shove (succeeded in a hidden-difficulty Command test!). As much inter-scrunt communication comes in the form of pushing and shoving, this translates into a decent knack for command, and in a surprisingly short time, representatives from most of the scrunt families have gathered around the Chimera. The average scrunt family tree looks more like a bramble thicket, so this translates to most of the civilian force being present. Other scrunts keep a lazy eye out for trouble, or continue to gently caress around with the retro-rocket forge they've bashed together. There is the occasional VOMPH of a bush or tree or scrunt going up in flames, but for the most part, the important scrunts are all present, all conscious, and all vaguely understanding what's going on. This is nothing short of a minor miracle in scrunt terms - perhaps it is the power of the slam sector flowing through them! -------------- The Scrunt Gathering The Forest Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7y3pspnwyoM scrunt.flv Things devolve into a noisy argument almost immediately. A particularly grizzled scrunt with no ears is shouting for the entire group to up sticks and go find a nice sewer to live in. Several hayseed scrunts in straw hats seem to want to start a farming commune, although it is unclear whether or not they actually know the first thing about farming. Some of the more mechanically inclined scrunts want to take the Chimera apart in order to stockpile spare parts for the Chimera. One young scrunt is simply bawling SECTOR SLAM, SECTOR SLAM at the top of her voice and does not appear to quite understand. The old lady scrunt from the dropship is doing her hardest to catch Groin's eye, presumably with an eye to picking up where they left off beforehand. A one-armed scrunt is complaining about the lack of red dye for his robes. Basically, it's chaos. Amidst all the shouting and gesticulation, common threads of debate seem to emerge. The scrunts are uncertain where and how to live, where exactly they are, what the immediate threats are, and what they should be doing. These are baseline circumstances for the average scrunt, but now circumstances are a bit more pressing and answers should probably be sought. No clear leaders have emerged yet - perhaps it's time to impose your will on these stupid little shits. Besides, if you're their boss, you can use their stuff. That's how it works, right? ---------------- greetings apes. you have scrunting to do. I want things from you. I want you to say what sort of things you want to do next, and I want you to convince the other NPC scrunts of them. To do this you're going to want to use social skills - Charm, Decieve, Intimidate, Command, that sort of thing. If you don't have a particular social skill you can still use it at -20, because, for example, even if you're not trained in the art of deception you still understand the concept of a lie. Good plans will get bonuses - backup from fellow PC scrunts will also give bonuses, so even if you're a social retard you can still help e.g. Grimply or Gumbo by standing behind them and shouting YEAH. Bear in mind you've still not interrogated the PDF trooper that Grumb's currently gimping, so if you want info from him you can do a retroactive post where you try and get info out of him. That might dictate what actions you take, or it might not. Please think medium-term and in general terms, i.e. "I think we need a base!" rather than "I want to go and buy a pair of flak trousers!", because the latter is a bit of a lovely adventure. I want you to tell me what sort of loot you want. Do you want a bigger gun, do you want your current one improving, do you want armour, grenades, drugs? Want a tool, want something to play to your strengths or cover your weaknesses? You can tell me exactly what you want, if you know, in which case you'll get a logistics roll for it which you might fail, or you can tell me what you want in vague terms, in which case you'll probably get something useful but possibly not exactly what you want. Bear in mind this is being represented as coming from the dead PDF squad, being requisitioned from the general poo poo the scrunts have, and being bashed together by scrunt craftsmen, so you are unlikely to pull lascannons out of the works but you might easily manage, say, a grenade launcher. I will aim for greater transparency once we get to this bit, but again, you haven't killed anything particularly interesting yet nor raided any arms depots so your selection is limited. I want you to come up with something interesting about the planet you're on. Post it in the recruitment thread. Maybe there's a particular species of land animal that lives in the deserts to the south, maybe it has an unnaturally thin ionosphere so radio communication is tricky, maybe the cities are made up of slow crawlers that follow mineral seams across the face of the planet. Please try to steer away from general scrunt memes like "forests full of tiny wolves" etc, this is to help me with coming up with interesting poo poo to happen to you.
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Nov 29, 2014 18:40
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I am curiously happy that you remembered the bonus from Foresight. However, if you're going autoguns then your gun's going to be Storm instead of Twin-Linked - twinlinked is mostly for powerful single-shot weapons, storm is for full-auto. You rolled well so I will ignore that really you should be using Trade - Armourer for this which you do not have, and you can have two customisations on your storm autogun. You can pick who gets the benefits if you choose customisations like Custom Grip.
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Nov 29, 2014 21:46
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Ground Zero The Forest Malbrathia-3  As the maltreated PDF trooper yanks the pin from Grumb's grenade, time seems to slow. The world hangs, for an instant. ----- Grumb can spend a fate point if he wishes to save the scrunt's sole current source of information and narrative convenience. Otherwise, both of his frag grenades will cook off, dealing 3d10-drop-lowest damage to the gunner, and knocking his comrade Barry into Wounded. If he gets hit again (e.g. is in another explosion, gout of flame, etc.) before the next fate point refresh he's dead, regardless of medical attention. PDF Barry will die. Other scrunts can take as much or as little damage as they like, or none at all - this is player-driven damage in a narrative section so I'm not going to go all "well Scurrilous is next to the Chimera so takes 15 damage but Grimply's off in the bushes so escapes unharmed..."
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Dec 1, 2014 19:34
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Scrunt du Soleil The Forest Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1D5Sa2Yq-2g Oh poo poo! PDF Barry sprawls howling in the mud as Grumb tears at his bandolier. For one horrifying moment the PDF trooper looks up at the towering scrunt tearing at his clothing and fears the worst, but Grumb's mind is fixed solely on the preservation of his ever-growing flock of Barries. The heavy gunner spins round, and round, and round, and finally yanks off his bandolier, hurling it into a nearby tree and diving for cover! He lands squarely on top of the luckless PDF trooper. Grumb, for all his points, does not- no, alright, not "good" points. Points, maybe. For all his points. Grumb is not a doctor, is what I'm getting at. Were he a more experienced medic, he would have realised that actually the trooper's arm is merely atrociously dislocated. By an astounding fluke, the weight of the scrunt crashing down, coupled with the unnatural position the arm is forced into by the splint, manages to snap the abused appendage back into its socket! It is, of course, the single most painful experience of Barry's life, but you can't have everything. In a couple of hours he should be move it, slightly. ------------- It's a fate point to reroll yourself out of the situation, basically. If we're going to get rulestistic, what you did was gently caress up the medicae roll to such an astounding degree as to kill PDF Barry. It's just you kinda chose to represent that as him grabbing the grenade, which is why no other scrunt necessarily has to take damage for this. Fate point gets you a reroll - flipping a coin to choose the dice, you use the Strength test and apply it as your untrained medicae roll. Because you're not actually doing invasive surgery here I'm not going to make him take damage by you loving up the roll on anything other than a monumental failure, so unless you roll a 99 or a 100 again he- Ignite Memories posted:oh, crap. I'm using the 2d10 method with one of those tens dice, and I rolled a 1 and a 00. is that 100 or 1? is 100 "00 0"? how does that work? I'm pretty sure I either rolled a 100 or a 1. gibber oh wait no it's ok, you either rolled a 10 or a 1 depending on which dice represents your "hundreds" column. I flipped a coin and, uh, you rolled a 01. Which means you actually healed him through your creepy scrunt fumbling. Always bet on tails! so you healed damage equal to your intelligence bonus (i.e. 2 wounds worth) and also removed a point of crit damage. But your bedside manner could use some work. You only spent that fate point, by the way, you didn't burn it. You get it back next time the fate points refresh, which will probably be after whatever the next encounter is.
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Dec 1, 2014 22:03
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Yep, that's it. 0 + 0 wraps round to 100, 0 + 1 = 1
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Dec 1, 2014 22:46
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Scrouncil The Forest Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SV9NSfPkXTA A curious sensation spreads through most of the listening scrunts. Hope. Eagerness. A couple of them pat themselves suspiciously to make sure everything's alright, and a fistfight breaks out near the back as a couple of particularly superstitious scrunts suddenly take it into their heads that a creepy mumbling scrunt has been messing with their minds. The fistfight swells and then abruptly finishes as it is pointed out that very few scrunts are not creepy and mumbling, and the scuffling is replaced with ragged cheers along the general theme of “SLAM SECTOR”. The 'fact' that there is a ready source of vehicles ripe for the taking gets them raring to go. OOC: It's Scurrilous giving the speech, and although Intimidate doesn't really come into a hopeful speech about the destiny of Scruntkind I'm just going to use it anyway – rolling against 86 [Strength 26 + 10 (peer – scum) + 20 (support from trained scrunts) + 30 (good plan/speech, sort of convincing scrunts to do something they want to do anyway)], Scurrilous comes up with 6 DoS. It is safe to say the bulk of the scrunts are on-side. The mechanically-minded scrunts are overjoyed, and heap gifts of equipment in front of the Chimera, hooting with excitement. A few of the more influential families are looking fractious, though. The hayseed agrarian scrunts would rather use the promised tractors for farming, with the implicit promise of crude moonshine. The grizzled sewer-dweller is angrily clamouring to know what sort of deviant scrunt would drive away from his filth at the end of the day, not to mention deliberately stay in the sun. OOC: the Industrial and Radical factions love you, the Agrarian faction is a bit annoyed but fearful, the Traditionalist faction is angry. Weird and Regular scrunts are both reasonably happy. In game terms I just made all that up but basically you will have more success getting NPC scrunts to do stuff if that particular faction likes you. Industrial stuff is basically “machinery”, Radical stuff is deliberately nebulously defined but generally encompasses “innovation/instability”, Agrarian stuff is “supplies, survivalism”, Traditionalist is also nebulously defined but covers “defence/stability”, Regular is the mood of the general scrunt population, and Weird scrunts are... special scrunts. You guys are Weird, for example. You can do more social tests to try and get the angry factions on-side, or you can just let them stew Vile stew is shared as the scrunts prepare for departure, and most of the others shuffle back to the beacon to stare vacantly into the flames. Between Scurrilous' technological insticts and Groin's welder eye, the Chimera is bashed back into a semblance of good health, although the tracks still give Groin a bit of gyp as he revs the engine (all Structural Integrity repaired, Critical Damage on motive systems still present). Jekk drags his Wounded form into the gunner's seat of the Chimera, next to Groin. There isn't actually a gun for him to operate, but maybe he can poke his head out of the front and yell. He sulks as his mohawk smoulders gently. A bunch of scrunts that say they can drive swarm into the APC or cling onto the side, as the more heavily-armed party scrunts claim whatever seats they wish (who's in the turret, who's on the pintle?), clutching their new toys. OOC: Loot! This can be represented as being given over by mechanical scrunts or looted from the general area. But let's be honest, that PDF squad you just killed won't have anything particularly out of the ordinary. Scurrilous is, inexplicably, handed a Bionic Heart. It will require five days in an advanced medical facility to install, as well as the aid of a technology specialist and medical expert. He also gets a photo sight for a weapon of his choice, which eliminates shooting penalties due to darkness. Kreb receives a curious device that bolts onto his rifle and makes it act as a combi-plasma gun. The form of this is up to you. You get one shot per encounter that uses the following stats - [80m / S/-/- / 1d10+8E / pen6 / clip 1 / reload N/A / Overheats] Grimply gets a red-dot scope (+10 to single shots) and some overcharged suspensors that make his rifle weigh about a pound while retaining the same mass. This provides no benefits or penalties. He also gets a powered grapnel and line. Grumb gets three fire bombs and a single jury-rigged plasma grenade! This uses the stats [SB x 3 / s / 2d10+5E / pen6 / Overheats]. Basically if you really mess up a shot with this it will go off in your hand. Groin gets two Anti-Plant grenades, two Photon Flash grenades, and one Haywire grenade. AP kills plants only, PF blinds, Haywire will gently caress up machinery. You know, like the stuff wired into you. Gumbo gets gently caress all until he asks! Urok gets gently caress all until he asks! Dak gets gently caress all until he asks! The Chimera The Path to the Farmstead Malbrathia-3 It is dark. You are likely to be bothered by a scrunt. Barrius is having an extremely bad day. He is hemmed in by foul-smelling humanoids in the darkness of the Chimera's interior. He is close to death, and was denied it by the quick thinking of the creature next to him. He will have to grab his next chance more carefully. At least both arms work now. The Chimera's engine rattles and complains at the solid fuel it's forced to consume, but it seems to run smoothly enough for now. The scrunts seem to be saving the promethium in case they have to put on a burst of speed; for general tooling around, filling the fuel tank with a few trees or rocks or scrunts seem to do the job. Barrius nervously clears his throat. “So, uh. Read any good books lately?” Converse. Interrogate/intimidate if you want to learn stuff. Or don't. We'll arrive at the farmstead once people are done or on Tuesday, whichever comes first. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 15:00 on Dec 7, 2014 |
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Dec 6, 2014 20:45
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The Scrunt Gathering The Immediate Past The Forest Malbrathia-3 Urok paws through the knapsack looted from the PDF sargeant. Inside, alongside the letters from home, the certificate specifying honourable discharge in two days time, and the unsigned life insurance documentation, he finds a parcel wrapped in brightly coloured paper with a small tag attached. Discarding this outer covering (Urok can't read the handwriting, and wouldn't know what “To a very special son!” means, anyway), the scrunt discovers a comfortable, unsullied, complete miniature suit of flak armour, very similar to the vests and helmets the PDF troopers were wearing! There's no way he can fit in the chestpiece, and his attempts to force his body into it split it like a ripe fruit, but the vambraces and trousers fit like a glove! OOC: Urok now has a Good set of flak leg armour and arm armour after looting a little boy's birthday present. This provides 3AP, or 4AP against the first attack in a round, and like all flak armour it provides a further +1AP against indirect explosive hits. Gumbo has also rustled up some leg armour, via the simple expedient of wrapping some dead men's vests around his limbs under his clothing. It's not actually that uncomfortable, and he'll get some of the scrunt camp followers to fix it up a bit better next time there's a lull in the action. Gumbo has a normal set of flak leg and arm armour. 3AP, +1AP against indirect explosive hits. Grimply salves the irritated Traditionalist scrunts, his words like cream on a troubled taint. Of course, by badmouthing the great outdoors in his portrayal of scrunt culture he pisses the living poo poo out of the hayseed Agrarian scrunts, but you can't have everything. Ok, we've not exactly nailed down scrunt culture here, and Grimply has, admittedly, lived outside for a very long time, so I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here and assume he's just plucked this story entirely out of his arse, enabling you to use the Deceive skill here. Normally this sort of thing leans more towards Charm, which if you aren't trained at gives you a -20 penalty. Traditionalist scrunts are happier, making them more likely to respond to general requests to be scrunty. Agrarians are more surly, meaning they are less likely to respond to general requests to e.g. chop down trees for fuel, and will instead try to slack off to make moonshine. Still time for people to harangue them more if they want! The Unnamed Scrunty Chimera The Present The Forest Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-e9JLJ71EpI lol at the video image. what were they thinking. good song thoug. The harrassed engine shudders and bangs as Groin gleefully guns it over the crest of a small hill. The Chimera crashes back to earth with a bounce as he whoops and fistpumps his bionic arm. Some drivers have lead feet, but Groin's got a steel one. The bounce dislodges something from under the driver's seat, which skitters out through the hatch into the main passenger compartment. It falls practically into Dak's lap, nearly braining him as it bounces up into his face and his hands instinctively clutch at it to ward it off. It's a combat shotgun! And it's a goddamn enormous one at that! It looks like a variant pattern from the shotguns Dak has previously slavered over in advertisements; maybe the Severans are dabbling in tech heresy, maybe they're pressed for resources, or maybe it's just a type Dak hasn't come across yet – phrasing intentional – but whatever the case, it looks like it'll handle combat at a distance with slightly more ease. The shells look pretty massive, too, but the resultant exposed ammo feed looks a bit worrying. Dak gets a shotgun. It's a variant pattern. Stats are: 40m / s/3/- / 1d10+4 I / pen 0 / clip 13 / Proven (2), Unreliable, Scatter. It's also really heavy. Grimply airs himself out with a satisfied smirk, occasionally flailing around spastically to keep his balance. Other scrunts occasionally fall off the top of the Chimera and have to break into a shuffling run to catch up, but as Groin tends to favour wide, sweeping turns that kick up huge plumes of mud, they generally manage to get back on board with no trouble. Kreb busies himself swinging the turret around in an attempt to knock particularly annoying scrunts off the top of the vehicle, although he refrains from turning the multilaser on them just yet. Pelt, hopped-up on paint chips, decides to blaze away with the pintle-mounted autoguns at passing birds, rabbits, trees and rocks. He holds onto the handles and makes machine-gun noises with his mouth. OOC: nowhere does it say whether or not you need heavy weapon training to use vehicle-mounted heavy weapons. If you do, you are in the bizarre position of needing special training for a heavy stubber but not for a demolisher cannon. I assume if it's on a vehicle you don't need training. If this ends up unfair to Grumb we'll revisit it. Inside the Chimera, the bouncing and jolting and general scrunting is sapping Barrius' will to resist. Maybe it's Stockholm Syndrome kicking in, or maybe it's an acceptance that Grumb is playing the good cop to Gumbo and Urok's bad cops, but, head in hands, some information does come spilling out of the abused trooper. “City. Way off. To the east. Aeolia. Through the old trench systems.” He pauses for breath, and to wince as the Chimera goes over a pothole. ”Don't think... don't think you'd get there though. Be stopped before then. You either go through the defences or you go round. Through the forest. And you don't. You don't want to go through the forest.” “We're. We're OK here. This bit's nice. Quiet. Real quiet. Couple outposts. Supposed to be an. An easy posting. Nothing in the hinterlands. Few of them loving rabbits. Bout the only thing to. To worry about. Front line's far off. West. Forest's thinner here. Hit an armoury the other day. Most action we saw in. In months. He pants, briefly. He looks in a bad way. ”No wife, no. Not. Not allowed yet. First tour. Can I have some water?” The Chimera wends its way closer to the isolated farm complex that the scrunts have designs on. As they get closer they'll no doubt change their approach, but for now, blazing through the sunset on a looted tank, beacon receding in the distance, life is good. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 09:10 on Dec 10, 2014 |
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Dec 9, 2014 23:21
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The Unnamed Scrunty Chimera The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ievJADa50ks Barrius eventually drifts off into an uneasy slumber, poleaxed by the terrible scrunt liqour. It's probably for the best, as the scrunts have started arguing on how best to make their assault on the farm complex. It's one thing being a prisoner of war, but taking an active part in planning an attack on your countrymen might tax the sensibilities of even the most Stockholmed captive. Grimply's sketched out a little map on the back of some of the sergeant's papers, detailing the layout of the outpost. He got a pretty good look at the place as he was able to get close by scrunting stealthily through the shrubbery (26 vs a comparatively easy Stealth test), and was able to get a pretty good idea of where stuff is.  one square = the size of the Chimera, roughly. This probably means the scale is pretty screwy but whatever. You need a full square's space to squeeze it in. The Chimera is approaching from the road to the south. Fields stretch off to the west, tended by large, simple, stationary agricultural machines tended in turn by large, simple, stationary servitors. Guard towers stand over each gate, although Grimply didn't actually see anyone in them - maybe they're trusting to the strength of the gates, maybe it's because this is supposed to be a quiet area. The road leads to a big central warehouse, there's a red-roofed building to the west that looks like it could be worker accommodation, and four warehouses stand to the east. Presumably entry is controlled by the consoles by the impressively sturdy doors. The silos that hold the farm's produce sit outside the concrete perimeter wall. The gates look like they could be rammed out of the way, although not easily. If any Agrarian scrunts were around and not sulking, they might be able to tell you roughly how many people would be expected to work on a farm like this. Then again, they might not. The drizzle continues. Twilight is falling. --------- What to do, what to do!! You're not in combat yet, but you don't quite have free run of the place either. You don't see anyone on your approach, although you're assuming that if you drive up to the gate and honk your horn a few times that might garner some attention eventually. You can drive under/through trees but it's noisy and slow. You can't drive through walls. You can, as mentioned, ram the gates, but you're looking at taking some damage from that and your Chimera's tracks are already a bit hosed. You can probably find other ways to open or circumvent them. Scrunts on foot are only stopped by doors and walls, and you can climb/breach them with appropriate tests. Scurrilous knows that if you have servitors in an isolated area you probably have servitor repair facilities on-site. This could be a proper workshop, or it could be a table, some RAM and a bunch of coffins. Regardless, it'll probably account for at least part of one of the warehouses. If you guys want to try and figure out what'd be in each building through actual deduction, then fine, post away. If you want to have your character try and figure stuff out then I will roll for you. Or, if you want to just ram-raid the place that's also fine. Scrunt away!
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Dec 13, 2014 21:38
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Deep Cover The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_4Xd4RONqJw Grumb takes up position behind a tree to allow Barrius to evacuate his bowels, guts and every other orifice of the effects of scrüntbraü, the taste that refreshes. The trooper's grunts and whimpers echo forlornly and faintly through the twilight air. While he waits uncomfortably, Grumb covers the gate with his stubber. May as well aim at something. Kreb has a similar philosophy, and clutches the aiming mechanism of the Chimera's multilas tightly. Remaining scrunts peer through the viewslights, weapons in hand, as the Chimera idles quietly outside the farm gate. It's a tense wait. It's spooky. Grimply and Urok ghost through the breach in the wall that the sniper's scouting identified earlier. It's weird - close up, it looks like the wall's been undermined rather than simply struck, and it's folded in on itself to give an entryway just big enough for motivated scrunts to sneak through. Who would try and tunnel into a farm? Rats? The sniper sneaks ahead and the brawler plods behind as best he can past the three small, empty recreation areas, but no-one challenges them. There's no shouted demands or bursts of gunfire or cries of "get that scrunt!", just drizzle, the fading warmth of the evening, and the sounds and smells of agriculture. Grimply risks a peek through a window into the central warehouse, and is amazed to see that it is, in fact, full of vehicles! He thought he'd made that bit up! poo poo, he must be good at this if even the farm's believed him! He can't really see what type they are, being under tarpaulins and all. Urok ventures the opinion that they're pretty low-slung. Maybe a tech-fetishist could tell from a distance what vehicles these are, or of course Grimply and Urok could always try and break in and have a closer look. Assuming these vehicles are fuelled and ready to go, which even Grimply knows is a huge assumption, it would still take a while to empty the warehouse - there's only so much space in the doorway, after all. Checking the gate, it looks like a simple, albeit massive, bar-and-bolt affair. Apart from the issue of squeaky metal, the gateposts are chained together with a fairly hefty chain and padlock. Urok is reasonably certain he could break it given time and motivation - it's just whether he could break it quietly. OOC: You can gently caress around with the gate so that the Chimera can ram it without any damage; stealth test to do it quietly, or find some oil. You can gently caress around with the gate to open it, but that needs a successful +0 Strength test to do it quietly, on top of the stealth/oil requirements to open the bars. Grimply freezes as he approaches a window leading into the red-roofed building. It looks like worker housing. He waves frantically at Urok to get into the shadows and stop moving and stop breathing so loving noisily. There's noises inside. Noises like a lot of people standing quietly and shifting around - he can't tell numbers - and a lot of quiet, frantic snuffling. As he listens, he hears movement and what could be the beginning of a yell, abruptly cut off. The snuffling and milling resumes. ------- Gosh, what is a scrunt to do. You found vehicles! Of some sort! Maybe they're broke! Who cares! Lemme know if I already used this song I can't remember. Basically the big decision is "does Grimply look through the window" or "do you get everyone ready first" or even "do you just gently caress it and ram the gates and blitz the building". Obviously more info will be forthcoming if you have eyes on whatever is going on inside the worker housing, but if anyone is looking out of the window they will see this against the dying twilight.  This is easier to notice than an extremely good stealth roll.
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Dec 17, 2014 22:55
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The Chapel The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7JscCmCJBwk 80S DOT JPEG Urok makes his preparations. With deliberate motions he wedges the mis-shapen frag charge into the doorstop, wiring the pin to the handle and jamming a handful of rusty metal scraps from his backpack on top for good measure. It's not something you'd want to be around once it goes off, but Urok has no plans to be. With minimal fuss he plants the grapnel, scales the side of the living quarters (avoiding any windows!), and positions himself over the doorway, ready to pounce like a giant hosed up horrible bird of prey that doesn't have any wings and actually mostly attacks by headbutting. Grimply handles the bolts on the gate, and peers into the building from a southern window, grenade in hand. The unsettling sounds he's been hearing suddenly snap into place. The building is mostly open plan, with a couple of supporting walls in the middle, pocked with windows that afford the scrunt a decent view of proceedings. The bit of the building near Grimply looks like a common dormitory area. There's beds for about twenty, and Grimply glimpses an open plan kitchen/dining area down the other end of the building, along with stairs heading up to the second floor. The middle section, like all imperial buildings, is devoted to a baroque, skull-encrusted chapel, but the pews have been shoved aside to make room.  red bit Grimply brown bit Urok numbers are doors There's a PDF squad in there, weapons in hand, taking up positions around the altar, facing the congregation. Boxes are heaped up around them - Grimply recognises the standard Munitorium ammo crate, but can't tell what's inside at this distance. There's also a couple of robed figures and about thirty farmhands - some are sitting or standing around looking groggy, but a good number are holding their gagged, bound, struggling companions and are bringing them forward, one by one, to the thing standing before the Emperor's table.  It's massive, with four muscled, chitinous arms sprouting from a sinuous body. Two of them end in blunt, powerful digger's paws, more like clubs than limbs; the other two seem strangely delicate as they deftly remove the gag from the unfortunate before it. The creature yanks back the farmhand's head and towers over the terrified human, up and up - Grimply can see that the creature's lower body tapers out into a horrific serpentine tail. Writhing tentacles plunge down the human's throat before he can emit a shriek - he thrashes momentarily, and then goes limp as the Xenos pervades him. The creature's previous victim is being helped to his feet by one of the robed figures. The farmhand staggers slightly and the robed individual turns to catch him. Even at this distance, Grimply gets a flash of his eyes. The scrunt can't shake the feeling he's been seen. He briefly yet calmly assesses the tactical options available.  Grimply goes apeshit, blasts a hole through the window, flings a fire bomb at the nearest human and gets ready to book it. The other scrunts make their move. -------------------- Hello friends!!! Meet the Ophidius-strain genestealers!! Why's everything being done in silence? Mods? Mods??? Grimply passed a fear test due to the sheer unsettling nature of this scene but scrunts psyched up for combat will not have to. In out-of-character terms, you have an infected PDF squad of Brood Brothers led by the purestrain genestealavener at the altar. You also have two squads of farmhands, led by hybrids. They will likely not remain unarmed for long. There's also a bunch of tied up terrified humans, if you were interested in the effects of indiscriminate gunfire. In this upcoming combat we are going to use the rules for formations. This is important. This means I am not going to have to track the individual motions of thirty humies - I am going to track the movements of the three Overseers who will each direct their discrete homogenous masses of troops. Basically, think of it as a way to represent units easily. Formations are special because they will hit you extremely easily through sheer weight of fire. However, they are not particularly tactically flexible, they generally can't dodge/parry, you always roll to hit them as if you were hitting the most favourable member of the squad, and if you hit a formation and do any damage at all you kill someone, reducing its combat effectiveness. The takeaway from this is that multiple weak damaging shots are better than few high-power ones. Blast weapons and flame weapons are very effective against them, but not quite so effective as if they were used against ten panicked individuals. Formations kinda have to stay near their overseer or they get scared and run away. If you kill the Overseer of a formation (a guy who uses normal combat rules just like you scrunts) then the formation will probably panic and rout. You can choose to target Overseers with Called Shots, or if you happen to roll a double on your attack roll. Please bear in mind that if you don't start chipping away at them the sheer mass of troops in the formation, they will probably wear you down via attrition, though, so it's a balancing act. Grumb you are currently by Schroedinger's tree. You can grab onto the Chimera as it careens wildly towards the action if you like and deploy with the other scrunts, or you can be placed by the gate for the impending action.
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Dec 18, 2014 23:50
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Ruckus The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LGYk1Dcpl4I When in doubt, flame it out. Grimply shrieks, blazes away at the window with his autopistol, and flings his firebomb as far and as hard as he can across the dormitory. Because his arms are made up entirely of wet noodles, this is not very far - but he hurls his bomb as far as he can, and is dismayed to see it clong into the wall, a few metres short of the target. He is then elated to see it bounce several times and roll around the corner to detonate, blowing an unwary hostile farmhand back through a window to land in a crumpled heap, and returns full circle to horror at the pained shriek the Xenos beast emits at the sound of the detonation. OOC: Grimply was hurling a grenade at the very limits of Extreme range against Surprised foes. Remember you have no arms dude, you can't throw these things very far. He missed (55 vs 45, 1DoF) but grenades don't just vanish, and luckily he scattered his bomb into Squad 2. Because it's a miss, though, I'm not going to give the bonus formation strength damage that blast weapons normally get. At the sound of the shriek, Groin slams his foot down on the accelerator. He's on hair-trigger mode, as something about this farm has been giving him the heebie-jeebies something fierce, and now - vindication! And, as the smoke grenade goes off - obfuscation! As he guns the gas and blasts through the weakened farm gates, operating mostly on instinct rather than vision, the Chimera engine bangs and complains and screams- wait, no, that's Grumb being dragged behind the APC. Groin slams the handbreak down and spins the Chimera to face what he thinks is the source of the noise, and absent-mindedly pops the rear hatch as Grumb catches his breath. The heavy gunner is flattened by the door, but remains no worse for wear. Nervous scrunts clutch weapons and man turrets and fan smoke, awaiting some indication of what they should be shooting at. They catch glimpses of figures in the chapel, but don't have clear lines of sight at the moment. Grumb takes 1d10 Rending damage with Tearing due to being dragged behind the chimera; it is soaked entirely by toughness and armour. If anyone can remember the deep south term for this I would like to know what it is because it's bugging me. The Xenos react with blistering speed and efficiency. The grenade is still tumbling through the air as the PDF squad pivot to watch, and the Chimera is still screeching to a stop as they begin to act. No human could react so quickly - it must be some horrible trick of the alien - although they seem to be moving at normal speed. Maybe the beast has some sort of extrasensory influence over its peons to warn them of threats before the human mind can process them, or maybe the scrunts are just really loving dopey. code:Genestealer used a reaction to do something non-obvious. For reference, regeneration would be obvious. So it's not that. Squad 1 used its turn getting armed, PDF squad used its turn to throw guns and crack open crates. Next turn they'll need a half-action Ready in order to do anything gunny. In the meantime, the second squad of farmhands spill out into the dormitory area, crashing heedlessly through windows and running round lockers, snatching up whatever improvised weapons they can find. They're heading towards Grimply! lol Grimply's going to be beaten to death by a bunch of angry farmers  HERE is the MAP. WHERE do you wish to GO. ----------- do stuff you horrorshows. Grimply might want help, but Squad 1's just got weapons and the PDF squad look like they're gonna come out with something soon. You scrunts are all dimly aware of all of these movements, with the caveat that only Grimply has seen the genestealer do his funky adjustment thang. No enemies are currently in cover - you can just wang fire at them through windows. Please remember that if you can see any member of a formation you can attack the whole lot, and you always count as attacking the most advantageous member of a formation; it's kinda simplifying a lot of people running around in simultaneous combat, really. It's pretty obvious that these guys have heard a vehicle rev up, and have heard a big CLANG which they can only assume is the gates going. So they know it's not just Grimply performing a lone suicide assault on them, but they don't know about Urok yet. If you want 'em to come out that door with the trap you're going to have give them a reason, even if that reason is HELLO I AM HERE IN THE WINDOW CHECK OUT MY FLAMETHROWER - Urok, you can position yourself so that you can do vile scrunty things through the window without being caught in the potential blast of a booby trap. The doorframe will redirect some of the blast anyway. I will re-emphasise that formations get weaker as they get smaller. You've got eight actions, eight chances to do damage or generally hamper the enemy, make them count! Fate points will refresh before next combat so don't forget about those. Oh and the smoke from the smoke grenade will cause a smoke cloud on the Chimera's position if it doesn't move.
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Dec 20, 2014 23:26
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It is assumed you will not be run over as there is more than enough movement to spare. Were Groin ramming or going flat out, it would be a different matter, but he's not going to run over any scrunts outside the Chimera.
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Dec 22, 2014 17:54
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Aliens Among Us!! The Chapel The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6L4LpDIvG4 Urok plummets to the ground like a sack of bricks, gloves sparking as he descends the grapnel line, and much like a sack of bricks is completely unfazed by the experience of hitting the ground. He smashes his face into the window, shattering the glass, and thrusts a firebomb through the window, leering horribly. (58 vs BS 32 + 30 point blank range). He ducks as it detonates, engulfing the two nearest members of squad 1 in a blast of flame. They drop their guns and thrash screaming on the floor, out of the fight. OOC: two down! Scurrilous is more of a traditional scrunt, and prefers enemies who don't shoot back. He turns his attention towards the squad charging Grimply, and, after a momentary false start when the magazines fall out of his heavily-lubricated autogun, begins to hose the humans down with fire. (You originally rolled 60 so I fate point rerolled it to a 19 on the assumption that you still have one spare point, shout if you don't want me to do this). The machinegun chatters, whirrs and whines as the mechanisms protest the sheet amount of ammunition being chewed through, but by the time the storm of iron fades fully eight of the farmhands lie bloodied and broken on the floor of the dormitory. loving hell. 17 vs 38 (BS + aim + full auto) = 4 DoS, made up to 8 by Storm. Maybe I'll give the next enemies some armour next time if I use Formation rules. Kreb finishes the job handily, incinerating the remaining humans of Squad 2 in a storm of high-intensity lasfire. The hybrid leader hisses defiance before he, too, is reduced to a charred corpse. Good luck getting an autopsy out of that one. Murdelia, finding all of her targets dead already, turns her attention to Squad 1. Three more humans go down shrieking, clutching at the jagged rents in their flesh caused by her horrible customised weapon. Seeing the supply of targets wither away before his eyes, Grumb forlornly hoses some fire in the general direction of the house. His heart clearly isn't in it. Grimply takes careful aim on the genestealer at the altar. The flash of the fire bomb and the flicker of lasfire appears to have annoyed it, and those bony plates are covering its eyes again. Plates appear to be shifting under its skin. What's it up to now? Groin reverses the Chimera to bring its front armour to bear on the chapel, but his bionic arm decides now is the perfect moment for a vigorous jerk-off session and in attempting to get it back under control, he manages to stall the engine (88 on your operate test, dude). The vehicle moves, but it's just as big a target as ever! Gumbo does an unspecified action that will be sorted later because gently caress if I'm going to hold up a combat round for one slow-posting scrunt, Grimply watches in horror as the PDF squad finish rummaging in their crates and come up holding rocket launchers! The squad hunker down behind crates as the genestealer slithers behind the altar, although the sniper can still draw a bead on whatever exposed body part he's aiming at. Head, arms, digging arms, so many choices! The PDF squad are taking cover behind your loot, and two of them are wielding disposable one-shot missile launchers. Same rules apply to shooting squad members armed with special weapons as to shooting overseers, except they still die on taking any damage, like other formation members. Out of sheer desperation, the remaining infected farmhands vault through the windows leading into the kitchen, heedless of the ragged wounds caused by the breaking glass. Once behind cover their nerve appears to return, and they merrily blaze away with worrying accuracy. (15 vs BS + 5 x formation strength = 5 DoS, meaning five lasgun hits against the squad. I am splitting these by closeness, and the amount of damage you've done). Urok escapes with minimal burns as a torrent of lasfire blasts into the window frame (2 hits soaked by cover, armour and toughness), but Scurrilous is not so lucky - shots rake up the side of the turret, and he takes a nasty burn to the chest. (first hit soaked by leg cover, second hit whams straight into the torso and does five wounds after toughness and armour). If only Groin could drive! Some sixth sense makes Murdelia spin away behind Grumb, milliseconds before a lasbolt would have taken her arm off at the elbow, and she escapes unscatched. This would have been a 13-damage hit to your unarmoured arm, and you missed the dodge roll. I have spent a fate point to let you reroll the dodge, which you subsequently passed, but let me know if you don't want that to happen. Over a dozen humans lie dead or dying, but the Xenos cares naught for that. Under its unholy direction, the corrupted humans get ready to rain fire on their attackers. What kind of hosed-up planet is this where scrunts can be the good guys?  ------------------------ please stop killing all my mans!! You can all dimly make out the rocket launchers. Phoon please make some posts. Everyone else, please also make some posts.
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Dec 22, 2014 22:37
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For Every Point Of Damage The Ramming Vehicle Inflicts It Moves Its Target 1 Metre The Chapel The Farm Malbrathia-3 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAnszPv4XMQ Urok makes an entrance.  He lashes out blindly in all directions. The hybrid leader of Squad 1 dodges out of his path easily enough, but one of his peons is less lucky. The man goes down hard, air hissing from his splintered ribcage. OOC: two attacks, one connected, one wounded. Squad 1 down to strength 4 Scurrilous blazes away again with his rickety ersatz-machinegun, but it turns out trained soldiers in cover are harder targets than farmers in the open. Bullets spackle off crates and flak armour alike, and only a single soldier goes down, blood streaming from his ruined shoulder. Still, the boxes the humans are cowering behind look a bit more ragged, and likely provide a bit less in the way of protection now. wrap it up scruntailures almost all your shots hit body/legs and thus were absorbed by cover. You killed a mans. You got someone in the face but he soaked all the damage. Welp. I suggest More Gun. Kreb, on the other hand, blazes away again with his hi-tech fusion-powered laser blaster. Similar results ensue, although as the weapon heats up he fails to account for the corresponding dispersion of fire. Only two humans fall, bright red beams of coruscating energy punching straight through their cover and armour. There is a sharp krak as a crate of powerpacks detonates, but no-one is harmed. Kreb hits twice, kills twice. The cover continues to take a pounding. Grimply grins smugly as he lines up the perfect shot on the 'orrible Xenos monster. The red dot from his scope plays against its skull as he points it right at its beady little eye! The beady little eye that, it turns out, is swivelling in the direction of Grimply as he exhales and depresses the trigger stud. Quicker than the eye can follow, the alien snaps its head back and across to avoid the sniper's ministrations. Some sixth sense has already seen Grimply adjust his aim, though - he doesn't catch the beast in its unprotected eye socket, but he glances it across the forehead. There's very little in the way of lasting damage done, but by way of consolation the scorch mark looks uncannily like a dick. Genestealers can dodge, dude. Moreover, they're extremely good at it. Sorry. However, it didn't feel right throwing away eight full degrees of success on a snipe, so as a judgement call I swapped out dodge DoSs and snipe DoSs on a one-for-one basis and you managed to scrape through and hit it, albeit with no bonus. You did a single wound and scored a big dick mark on its head. Murdelia blithely fires away from the middle of the road, not caring about cover or self-preservation after her previous brush with death. Two more PDF troopers fall, one with their arm flayed to the bone by flensing lasfire, the other collapsing to a lucky shot that punched straight through his cover and flak armour to hit him right in the lucky Severan denarii he carries over his heart. It is driven, molten, into his chest. His death is not quick. Weak shot to the leg (cover soak), strong shot to the chest (just barely wounded), medium shot to the arm (wounded), two more down! Grumb joins her in this dangerous pastime. Possibly in some attempt to impress the lady scrunt, Grumb decides that arm shots are the way to go. His weapon bucks and sputters but he masterfully brings it under control, lazily hosing streams of high-calibre rounds across the now splintered and wrecked ammunition crates. He is rewarded by the sight of two pleasingly impressive fountains of blood and cries of pain, and their cover is now thoroughly hosed. Arms, arms, arms! Two left arms have been shot off! Gumbo dashes into a flanking position. The melee is swirling somewhat, but once he catches his breath he remains confident that he could lob a grenade over it with practically minimal chance of hurting Urok. Admittedly, Urok is likely to be beaten to death in quite short order by the five angry creatures he's just attacked, but at least it won't be friendly fire. Groin goes lateral. Figures dance in front of his robot eye, about krak `rocket launchers and plasteel-equivalent penetration and the ablative absorbtion of rockcrete and all sorts of unfamiliar stuff. He glances down to see his robotic arm has released the Chimera's handbrake before giving him a thumbs-up, and his robot leg has punched the gas pedal before he can collect himself long enough to retrieve his fleshy hand from the gearstick. Where did he get these implants, anyway? Who from? The tank lurches forwards, accelerating wildly, and careens straight through the wall. Groin's forehead bounces off the horn once or twice. Groin aces the Operate test and fucks the living poo poo out of the wall. It seems that rules as written you can basically happily drive a Chimera through civilian houses all day long? That's fine. Chimera will benefit from cover for incoming fire at the cost of needing to reverse and re-manoeuvre if you want to ram the genestealeravener. The alien beast hisses in annoyance. Perhaps it doesn't like having its walls ruined, or maybe it's still sore about the dick on its forehead, but its hiss is echoed by the twin hisses of two rockets being fired at an extremely close-range target. Incredibly, even at this range one of the PDF troopers manages to gently caress up his shot - the sudden inrush of a large armoured personnel carrier that has just butchered about twenty men will probably put the wind up anyone. The missile streaks into the ceiling, and there is a muffled "CRUMP". It seems it didn't hit anything vital to the abused building's superstructure. The other missile strikes true, although its impact is lessened slightly by the rockcrete barricade. Very little structural damage is done to the Chimera, although by a fluke the hypervelocity stream of liquid metal strikes a part of the hull that Scurrilous didn't quite weld shut. The rocketeers drop their spent tubes and grab for replacements as things start getting nasty. Wellcume 2 Krakzone. Krak missiles do righteous fury against vehicles on a 9 or 10, and that krak missile rolls three dice for damage. Guess what two of them were! The Chimera lurches horribly. Scurrilous is bounced around inside the crew compartment but lands on his face, unharmed. The missile remnant goes tearing through a multilaser battery, discharging a considerable current straight into Kreb as it detonates! The scrunt is wounded, but still alive. Kreb takes ten damage to the chest, reduced by toughness and armour. You also take one fatigue, meaning -10 to all rolls until you can rest. Worryingly, as the rest of the PDF open fire on the footslogger scrunts to little avail, the horrible Xenos beast at the altar looses a flurry of darts at Grimply from slits in its body. The sniper isn't hit by any of them, although he can see the wooden windowframe start to smoke and corrode where they've impacted. bad rolls bad rolls, bad rolls bad rolls The farmhands are possibly a little intimidated by the foulsmelling wildcat that appears to have attacked them, and none of them manage to land a blow on the hissing, raving scrunt. Their hybrid leader is made of sterner stuff and slashes at Urok with a single clawed hand, but the scrunt dodges easily, leering. bad rolls bad rolls, bad rolls bad rolls  ------------------- Greetings. People died, and Kreb got electrocuted. Urok might not actually get the poo poo kicked out of him next round, I rolled really badly for squad one and they'll have to do a fair amount of damage to get through his toughness and armour with bayonets. The Chimera's pretty banged up and there's more missiles to go. If they hit you in the turret then cover won't help and you'll probably take a nasty whack. If they hit you on the hull or tracks cover will help and you'll probably take a mild whack. Scrunts firing from the Chimera are at -20 to hit, I think. Groin can plow through the back of the building if he wants but it is very close to the farm's curtain wall which will stop a Chimera in its tracks. Any weapons fire from the Chimera will take -20 to hit as it's going at top speed. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 20:49 on Jan 1, 2015 |
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Dec 30, 2014 00:37
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| # ¿ Apr 29, 2024 15:47 |
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Waroduce how are you attacking. Combat actions are here but as you're in melee most of them won't be applicable. Bread-and-butter melee actions for you would include: Half action aim/standard attack at WS + 10 (aim) + 10 (standard attack) - 10 (two-weapon) All-out attack at WS + 30 (AAA) - 10 (two-weapon) with no possibility of you using Dodge until your next turn Half action aim/guarded attack at WS + 10 (aim) - 10 (guarded) - 10 (two-weapon) with a +10 Dodge bonus until next turn and of course you can single-fist the above instead to get a single attack with no two-weapon penalty pls pick and rol dise
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Jan 1, 2015 17:23
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