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 CONTRARY TO THE THREAD TITLE, THIS IS ACTUALLY AN ONLY WAR GAME  The Exorcist-class Grand Cruiser Undeniable Gravitas has a long and illustrious history. After millennia as a workhorse of the Imperium's Great Crusade, it was eventually retired from active duty and sold as surplus to the Laurent-Bragg Rogue Trader dynasty. For the past six thousand years, it has served as their flagship, a glittering jewel in the dynasty's crown passed down to each successive head of the family. And with each new Trader came new modifications to the ship, such that it is now barely recognisable as the voidship it once was. Thousands of years of refits and repairs have taken their toll on the old ship. While the upper levels have been painstakingly maintained to reflect the dynasty's opulence and splendour, the underdecks have become a maze of winding access tunnels and forgotten holds. Entire societies have risen and fallen, completely oblivious to the empty void beyond the ship's hull. Dangerous and exotic xenos stalk the halls, while long-forgotten relics collect dust in hidden vaults. Keeping a ship of this size running requires a crew numbering in the thousands, and keeping a crew of that size in check requires a private militia. As a fresh recruit of that militia, you are expected to uphold order amongst the crew, repel boarders, board hostile vessels, put down mutinies and eliminate deadly formula. For these reasons, most recruits are pressed into service, rather than volunteering. It's a lovely job, but if you manage to stay alive for long enough you might just get to move to the upper decks and wear a fancy hat. The Rules
Here's a handy advancement cost calculator. For questions and OOC chat, get on discord. Submissions
MaliciousOnion fucked around with this message at 02:08 on Jun 10, 2019 |
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May 30, 2019 06:32
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To make it easy on people, I'm gonna suggest a few themed packages of Training/Special Equipment/Drawbacks to vote on. Feel free to suggest other options: there's easily 4 or 5 other good themes I'm not going to provide, and drawbacks aren't mandatory. quote:Drugged into Obedience quote:Underdeck Tribes quote:For the Emperor! quote:Praise the Omnissiah! Personally, I'm voting for the Underdeck Tribes option. I always loved the "barely know they live on a spaceship, if at all" thing. Dachshundofdoom fucked around with this message at 08:08 on May 30, 2019 |
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May 30, 2019 07:49
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Will have a character up by tonight, thinking a Heavy Gunner or Weapons Spec. Also, for what it's worth, Underdeck Tribes sounds a good time. On second thoughts, I won't be able to commit to this by the time we start. Maybe next time! Spiteski fucked around with this message at 07:17 on May 31, 2019 |
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May 30, 2019 08:14
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Oh yeah, I'm in. I like Dachshunds set ups. I'd vote drugged into obedience. Let's the players have a wide variety of back stories and histories as we could have been press ganged from all over. Will get an app up this weekend, either as a medic or heavy weapons.
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May 30, 2019 12:51
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interested, like underdeck tribes.
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May 30, 2019 15:01
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Gonna have a dual wielding knife sneakman made who steals loving everything not nailed down.
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May 30, 2019 16:27
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Praise the Omnissiah!
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May 30, 2019 16:28
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Hey, the last time the Imperial Navy was allowed to have soldiers, it was called the Imperial Army, and then the Horus Heresy happened. Ships go in the Navy, soldiers go in the Guard. Fortunately, mercenaries don't count as soldiers. It makes somehow makes the logistics even more complicated and graft ridden than the Munitorum, but at least it's ideologically correct  , the soldiers are all private contractors deeply in debt for their equipment and lodging, and it's full of opportunities for graft.quote:Run PMC
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May 31, 2019 01:30
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 Brother Tomas Vale When Brother Tomas was assigned to minister to the underdeck tribes of the Undeniable Gravitas, he was fresh out of missionary training. Eager, angry, prepared to bring the word of the Emperor to heretics with chainsword and flame. That's what he expected to find down in the depths of the vessel: people far removed from the Emperor's Light. Individuals who had dwelled so long in the depths, performing maintenance and tasks they no longer understood the purpose of, that they would certainly be savages. And of course, it would be his duty to stand above them and point them in the right direction with a firm and steady hand. Instead, he found a people whose purity of spirit and faith struck a chord in him like nothing ever had, even the words of the Ecclesiarchical instructors. They were not savages, though they lived simply. They worked together with diligence and pride, never shirking from their duty. They shared all they had, treated each other with respect and kindness, and fought with remarkable bravery against hullgheists and other foul things that inevitably worked their way into the depths of a ship this old.The tribes had different traditions and beliefs, but none were so alien that they needed to be purged, and all believed the Emperor to be the first and foremost of the gods, the Guiding Light of Mankind. When the crew abovedecks called on them to assemble a militia for one cause or another, they never hesitated. They knew that whatever would improve the Ship that was their home would benefit them all. Utterly taken in by their faith and work ethic, Tomas has lived among them for years now, serving as a spiritual counselor and a fellow worker instead of the steel-fisted religious warrior he imagined himself as. He no longer loves the roar of the chainsword or the trappings of technology; he sees something beautiful in bludgeoning vile creatures to death using his tome-staff, literally destroying them with the reinforced and blood-resistant Collected Words of the Emperor and his Saints. He still appreciates the beauty and purity of flame, although he uses it sparingly. After all, the Ship is all these people have, and it is important to avoid damaging it. He has grown popular enough to attract a small following of his own, tribesmen who but for the circumstances of their birth would have been worthy priests in their own right. Now a new militia has been called up, and as usual Tomas and his followers have joined the motley collection of tribesmen and others from the depths of the Ship. It is his duty to provide spiritual guidance and a courageous example in times of war against the Emperor's foe. He intends to fight with courage and distinction, so that no one from above will be able to call the people he loves cowards or weaklings. They are proud servants of the Emperor, committed to the neverending war for mankind's survival, and he will let no one forget it. MaliciousOnion posted:In order to develop your characters collectively, I'd like you each to come up with one superstition or tradition that's employed by the inhabitants of Deck 144. It can be something as simple as touching a particular girder every time it's passed as thanks for its protective presence, or it could be an entire coming-of-age ritual celebrated by the whole tribe. According to legend, the doorway to Maintenance Shaft 19C has been jammed open ever since a macro-cannon shell breached the ship's hull several centuries ago. Dozens of Deck 144's inhabitants were sucked into the vacuum of space when the blast doors on the shaft failed to trigger. Although the hull damage has long since been repaired, the inhabitants of Deck 144 consider it a cursed place and shun it. It's considered unlucky to work within sight of the jammed doors, and crewmen assigned to nearby stations often jingle when they walk from the sheer number of lucky charms they wear. It's also said that if you approach the shaft during the first night cycle of a Warp jump and throw something of value to you down it, voices will drift up from below and foretell your future. No one will ever admit to trying it, of course. pre:Name: Tomas Vale Specialization: Ministorum Priest Aptitudes: Fellowship, Leadership, Perception, Social, Strength, Weapon Skill, Willpower, Agility, Toughness Demeanor: Monastic WS: 45 (20 +5 Regiment) BS: 20 S: 30 (10) T: 30 (10) Agi: 43 (20+3 Regiment) Int: 17 (-3 Regiment) Per: 20 WP: 43 (20 +3 Regiment) Fel: 40 (20) Wounds: 12 Fate: 1 Insanity: 0 Corruption: 0 Skills: Charm Command Common Lore (Ecclesiarchy, Tech) Dodge Forbidden Lore (Heresy) Inquiry Linguistics (Low Gothic) Navigate (Stellar) Scholastic Lore (Imperial Creed) Talents: Foresight Hatred (Heretical Cults) Lightning Reflexes Street Fighting Unshakable Faith Weapon Training (Chain, Las, Flame, Low-Tech) Comrade Abilities/Orders: Curate Righteous Oration Traits: Charmed Ill-Omened Void Accustomed Primitive Survivalist (Ship) Gear: Mono Great Weapon Flamer Chainsword Ecclesiarchy Robes Imperial Guard Flak Armour Stun Grenades (3x) Frag Grenades (2x) Rebreather Book of Scripture XP 750/800 Curate-250 Righteous Oratory-300 Charm-100 Command-100 Dachshundofdoom fucked around with this message at 07:51 on Jun 7, 2019 |
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May 31, 2019 03:03
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 Franklyn "Butcher" Brass The human body is so very hardy. Our ability to go on with organs damaged and limbs removed I am told is a rather remarkable trait when compared to say, the Eldar, though I have not had a chance to test it first hand. The body adapts to so many different situations, the Ogryn and Ratling abhumans are thought to be descended from humanity directly, the body changing over slow eons to high and low gravity. Even in space the human body changes. Based on my first hand studies it appears that the inner ear of those who have spent generations in space is markedly different, which I think accounts for their ability to navigate zero gravity so effortlessly. The human body is also so fickle. Even small exposure to radiation can cause irreparable damage to cellular structure leading to uncontrolled cancer, or exposure to certain industrial by-products can cause whole organs to shut down. See, the hive world I originate from was one such world. Toxic sludge and radiation caused life to be rather brutish and short, at least for those downstream from the effluent flows, like the lower hive community I was from. My story was one of many, a boy left orphaned, spared the slow death of organ liquefaction by a mere twist of the genetic lottery. By rights I should have been dead, I was exposed to the same concentrations as my parents and younger sister and we shared the same genetic make-up, but I was spared. My life should have ended long before now with a knife in the back by some other desperate under-hiver, but Thor bless the Hospitalliers. The sweet fools saw an orphaned boy and took me in. Thankfully I was bright, and the lead Medicae took me under her wing. I absorbed all the books on anatomy, cellular structure, genetics, and chymistry like a sponge. The Hospitalliers were too short sighted, they provided palliative care to the dying, but lacked the...resolve required to take advantage of the ample chances to study the dying provided. It was not long, however, until my experiments were discovered. I thought they over-reacted. They were already providing morpha for pain, and the people were dying, so what matter was it if I gathered some cerebral-spinal fluid to test genetic degradation? Flee I had to, and that lead me to Undeniable Gravitas, always in need of crew. In my scientific pursuits I had learned enough about how to treat injuries to the body that my skills were useful enough for the on board militia, but my lack of pedigree and my methods left me unwanted to assist the upper echelons of the ship. The large ship population, including the unwanted under-deck populations leaves me with quite enough raw genetic material to study and compare. The militia have taken to calling me the "Butcher" due to my bedside manner and the appearance of the small laboratory I have set up in an old storage bay. Every injury is another chance to observe and learn from the workings of the human body. I always end up treating the wounds, infections, and illnesses, so I really do not see the reason for their complaints. They even complain when I spend my time studying the dying enemies they leave behind. If they were more efficient in their dispatching of our foes, it would not leave me with the opportunities. Though I do hear tell that the militia have begun to intentionally leave enemy wounded behind to slake my curiosity so as to "get it out of my system". This is of course not the case, if one of the militia has an interesting injury or malady I will study it. However, I let them believe it is the case none the less, since they are creating wonderful specimens to study among the enemy. pre:Name: Franklyn "Butcher" Brass Specialty: Medic Demeanour: Numb Comrade: Linda Entrain, Oblivious Starting Aptitudes: Ballisitic skill, fieldcraft, intelligence, knowledge, perception, willpower, agility, toughness WS: 35=30+3+2 BS: 30=30 S: 25=25 T: 30=30 Agi: 35=35 Int: 47=40-3+5+5 Per: 38=35+3 Wil: 38=35+3 Fel: 20=20 Wounds:12 Fate: 1 Skills Common lore (tech) dodge Linguistics (low gothic) Navigate (stellar) Medicae +10 Operate (aeronautica) Scholastic lore (Chymistry) +10 Tech use Trade (chymist) +10 Talents: jaded Foresight Lightning reflexes Master Chirurgeon Weapon training (SP, low tech) Street fighting Comrade Orders/Advances Traits: Charmed:roll 1d10 when use fate, on 9 0r 10 get point back Ill-omened: -10 interaction tests made with non-void born Void accustomed: zero-g not difficult terrain. Only -10 to charge or run in zero G Primitive: -5 Penalty to BS and WS tests with any non Low-Tech weapon. -20 Logistics to acquire anything other than Low-Tech weapons. Survivalists: Can reroll failed Survival and Navigate (Surface) tests in their favored terrain: the Ship. Gear: Two one handed low tech weapons with mono. (Two knives that double as surgical equipment) Imperial guard flak armor Three stun grenades two frag grenades one rebreather Diagnostor injector medkit XP 1100/1100 Medicae +10 200 Master Chirurgeon 400 Intelligence simple 100 Scholastic lore Chymistry +10 200 Trade chymistry +10 200 starting fate: 1d10 4 Werix fucked around with this message at 14:41 on Jun 8, 2019 |
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May 31, 2019 03:22
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 Read The loving Manual, Shaman Of The Great Creation As long as the tribe has flourished in the depths of the great vessel, there has been an unbroken line of shamans that interpret the will of the great god Undeniable Gravitas. In order to bring themselves closer to the ideal of the gods, these shamans participate in holy ceremonies to cast off the flesh and become able to truly divine the intent of the lesser servants of their god. For many, the ability to ask the great screen what service it requires is an unthinkable task. Not so for Read The loving Manual. She is the latest in her line and, by all accounts, truly blessed by the great one. On the day of her birth, the great Undeniable Gravitas faced certain disaster. Ammunition ran dry, entire decks slaughtered by explosive venting, and the chief of Deck 144 was at his wits end. In accordance with the ancient rituals of supplication and guidance, he activated the great screen and called up Above for knowledge and wisdom. The face of the Prophet Himself answered the call, his face a mix of disbelief and distraction, and the chief quickly explained the situation. He disconnected, but not before leaving the four sacred words behind: Read The loving Manual. Moments later, a baby's cry split the air. It was a sign from Above and, from birth, that child's name and fate were decided. quote:In order to develop your characters collectively, I'd like you each to come up with one superstition or tradition that's employed by the inhabitants of Deck 144. It can be something as simple as touching a particular girder every time it's passed as thanks for its protective presence, or it could be an entire coming-of-age ritual celebrated by the whole tribe. When a member of the tribe comes of age, they choose a name — or one is chosen for them, in cases of truly auspicious signs. Read was certainly in the latter category. This name is then etched carefully into one of the holy rounds. It is a sign of tremendous fortune when your shell is fired into the void, though a terrible curse is said to befall you should your round touch the ground. It's even worse should it be damaged or destroyed within the walls of the great vessel. Those unlucky few are exiled into the vents. pre:Name: Read The loving Manual Specialty: Tech-Priest Enginseer (Machine-Spirit Shaman) Demeanour: Dreamer Comrade: Lathe-Pattern Multitask Servitor "Big Guy" Starting Aptitudes: BS, INT, STR, TOUGH, WS, WILL, PER, AGI, Tech WS: 45 = 40+5 BS: 30 = 30 S: 20 = 20 T: 40 = 40 Agi: 33 = 30+3 Int: 42 = 40-3+5 Per: 30 = 30 Wil: 33 = 30+3 Fel: 20 = 20 Wounds: 9 Fate: 2 Skills: Common Lore (Tech) +10 Common Lore (Mechanicus) Dodge Forbidden Lore (Mechanicus) Forbidden Lore (Archaeotech) Linguistics (Low Gothic) Linguistics (Techna-Lingua) Logic Navigate (Stellar) Operate (Aeronautica) Security Tech-Use +10 Talents: Foresight: Spend 10 min analyzing to get +10 to next Intelligence-related test Lightning Reflexes: Roll Initiative twice, pick higher Street Fighting: When armed with knife or smaller, add half WS bonus to Critical Damage Mechadendrite Use: Can use Utility and Weapon mechadendrite Technical Knock: Un-jam weapon as a half-action 1/round Weapon Training: Can use Solid Projectile and Low-Tech weapons The Flesh Is Weak: Become a Machine with X equal to half number of installed cybernetics (round up) Comrade Orders/Advances: Traits: Charmed: Roll 1d10 when use fate, on 9 or 10 get point back Ill-Omened: -10 interaction tests made with non-void born Void Accustomed: Zero-g not difficult terrain, only -10 to charge or run in zero G Hopelessly Primitive: -5 to WS/BS tests with non-Low-Tech weapons Survivalists: Reroll failed Survival and Navigate (Surface) tests Waste of Resources: -20 to Logistics tests to obtain non-Low-Tech weapons Mechanicus Implants: Assorted implants that are mostly fluff stuff Machine (2): No breathing, immune to vacuum/cold/mind-influencing psychic effects, armor counts towards fire damage, +2 armor on all locations Gear: Mono Sword + Shield Imperial guard flak armor Three stun grenades two frag grenades one rebreather Sacred unguents Dataslate Combi-tool Cybernetics: GC Mind-Impulse Unit +10 to communicate with machine spirits and on tests while interfacing GC Servo-Arm Big beefy arm that has Str 75 + Unnatural Strength (7) and craps out damage GC Subskin Armor +2 armor to body, arms, legs Optical Mechadendrite +10 to Perception-based tests, ignore darkness penalties and +20 to vision-based tests at 'night' XP: 800/800 Techna-Lingua (Known) 100 Security (Known) 100 Logic (Known) 200 The Flesh Is Weak 400 Tricky fucked around with this message at 04:28 on Jun 4, 2019 |
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May 31, 2019 06:52
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 Haint has a very abstract and somewhat naive world-view. The tribe maintains the guns, the guns protects the ship, the ship shields the tribe from the dreaded outside and the horrors that live there. The same way with the Trader house, the Imerium, and the Emperor himself, though Haint is a bit fuzzy on the details. Haint got his name when, as a child, he threw himself under a toppling shell to spare it hitting the deck. "Haint Brokk, is he?" pre:Name: Haint Brokk Specialty: Heavy Gunner Demeanour: Optimist Comrade: Posm, Cook Starting Aptitudes: Agility, BS, Defense, Fellowship, Offense, Perception, Toughness, WS WS: 40 = 20+15+5[Regiment] BS: 45 = 20+20+5[Simple] S: 40 = 20+20 T: 40 = 20+15+5[Specialty] Agi: 30 = 20+10 Int: 20= 23-3[Regiment] Per: 30 = 20+7+3[Regiment] Wil: 23 = 20+3[Regiment] Fel: 30 = 20+10 Wounds: 14/14 Fate: 1/1 Skills: Athletics Common Lore (Imperial Guard) Common Lore (Tech) Common Lore (War) Dodge Intimidate Linguistics (Low-Gothic) Lightning Reflexes Navigate (Stellar) Operate (Aeronautica) Tech-Use Talents: Foresight Iron Jaw Mighty Shot Street Fighting Weapon Training (Launcher, Las, Low-Tech, Heavy) Traits: Charmed Hopelessly Primitive Ill-Omened Survivalists Void Accustomed Waste of Resources Gear: M41 Multi-laser Great Weapon [Mono] Flak Armor Stun Grenade x3 Frag Grenade x2 Rebreather XP: 1050/1100 Mighty shot 400 True Grit 400 Simple BS 250 Sax Battler fucked around with this message at 13:46 on Jun 9, 2019 |
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May 31, 2019 08:26
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Amongst the updeck elites of the Undeniable Gravitas, the inhabitants of the underdecks are looked upon with disdain, as a necessary evil. The updeckers try to have as little as possible to do with the lower decks as they can. For this reason alone, decks are charged with raising their own companies of naval infantry. To ensure levies are exacted and a basic level of combat readiness is maintained without having to oversee things personally, the ship's Master-at-Arms oversees a vast network of commanders, drill-masters, quartermasters and auditors. Deck 144 has gained a particularly unfavourable reputation as a backwards, primitive place. The inhabitants, traditionally employed in maintaining the ship's vast stores of point defense ammunition, are a hardy people, and the nature of their work has led to them becoming highly superstitious. Despite this, they are also known for their tenacity in combat and their loyalty to the ship. For this reason, they have one of the largest levies on the entire ship, and are often deployed in large numbers during ship combat. The Master-at-Arms, however, is reluctant to invest more than the most basic of equipment to these savages, in the belief that they are more likely to break something than effectively use it against an enemy. Underdeck Tribes is locked in! The Regiment google doc has been updated, so please make sure you update your sheet. In order to develop your characters collectively, I'd like you each to come up with one superstition or tradition that's employed by the inhabitants of Deck 144. It can be something as simple as touching a particular girder every time it's passed as thanks for its protective presence, or it could be an entire coming-of-age ritual celebrated by the whole tribe.
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Jun 1, 2019 09:21
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The inhabitants of deck 144 find it to be extraordinary bad luck to drop a crate of Point Defense Weapon ammo, as the ammo is sacred and must be treated with respect. Any time someone drop a crate of ammo, they are punished by having to stand in one place holding a crate for a quarter hour for every time they've dropped one. Rumor abounds about the fabled man named "Grease Paws" who dropped so many crates he was up to 14 hours of standing. Failure results in lashes.
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Jun 1, 2019 13:45
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 Harlan, The only good shot in the regiment No bio is necessary for this underdeck scum because he is one of many. pre:Name: Harlan Specialization: Weapon Specialist Regiment: Underdeck Tribes Training Doctrine: Survivalists Special Equipment: Hardened Fighters, Die-Hards Drawback: Primitive Aptitudes: Agility, Ballistic Skill, Fellowship, Fieldcraft, Finesse, Perception, Toughness, Weapon Skill Characteristics: WS: 32 (20+10) [+2 Regiment] BS: 50 (20+20) [+5 Specialty] [+5 Advance] S: 30 (20+10) T: 30 (20+10) Ag: 40 (20+15) [+5 Advance] Int: 20 (20+00) Per: 40 (20+15) [+5 Advance] WP: 40 (20+20) Fel: 20 (20+00) Wounds: 11/11 FP: 1/1 Insanity: 0 Corruption: 0 Skills: Athletics Awareness Common Lore (Imperial Guard) Common Lore (Tech) Common Lore (War) Dodge Linguistics (Low Gothic) Navigate (Stellar) Navigate (Surface) Operate (Aeronautica) Parry Tech-Use Talents: Foresight Hail of Fire* Lasgun Barrage Lightning Reflexes Rapid Reload Street Fighting Weapon Training (Flame, Las, Launcher) Traits: Charmed Ill-Omened Survivalists Primitive Void Accustomed Gear: Good Lasgun - 3 Clips Combat Shotgun - 4 clips Guard Flak Armor 3 Stun 2 Frag 4 Krak Rebreather Standard Guard Kit - Mono Knife Advances: 1100/1100 Hail of Fire 300 Agility +5 100 Ballistic Skill +5 100 Perception +5 100 Rapid Reload 200 Parry 200 Awareness 100 --------------- WS BS S T Ag Int Per WP Fel 32 50 30 30 40 20 40 40 20 Wounds: 11/11 Fate 1/1 Fatigue Level: 0 Initiative: 2d10k1+4 Ground: 4/8/12/24 SB: 3 TB: 3 Awareness: 40 Dodge: 40 Parry: 32 Armour: 4 All Weapons: Lasgun 100m S/3/- 1d10+ 3 E Pen 0 Clip: 60/60 Half Reliable, Variable Setting Combat Shotgun 30m S/3/- 1d10+ 4 I Pen 0 Clip: 18/18 Half Scatter Mono Knife 5m --- 1d5 + 3 R Pen 2 Clip: --- -- Frag Grenade 9m S/-/- 2d10+ 0 X Pen 0 Clip: 2/2 -- Blast 3, Ogryn-Proof Krak Grenade 9m S/-/- 2d10+ 4 X Pen 6 Clip: 4/4 -- Concussive 0 Stun Grenade 9m S/-/- ---- Pen 0 Clip: 3/3 -- Blast 3, Concussive 2 Viva Miriya fucked around with this message at 19:22 on Jun 1, 2019 |
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Jun 1, 2019 16:09
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 Jom, Heavy Gunner pre:Name: Jom Specialty: Heavy Gunner Demeanour: Backwater (yes, even compared to the others) Comrade: Quinn, Nihilist Starting Aptitudes: BS, WS, FEL, PER, T, AG, Offense, Defense WS: 45 = 20+20+5[Regiment] BS: 40 = 20+15+5[Simple] S: 40 = 20+20 T: 40 = 20+15+5[Specialty] Agi: 30 = 20+10 Int: 17 = 20-3[Regiment] Per: 33 = 20+10+3[Regiment] Wil: 23 = 20+3[Regiment] Fel: 30 = 20+10 Wounds: 13/13 Fate: 2/2 Skills: Athletics Common Lore (Imperial Guard) Common Lore (Tech) Common Lore (War) Intimidate Linguistics (Low-Gothic) Navigate (Stellar) Operate (Aeronautica) Parry Tech-Use Talents: Crushing Blow Add half WS to melee damage (+2) Foresight: Spend 10 min analyzing to get +10 to next Intelligence-related test Iron Jaw Test Toughness to ignore Stun Lightning Reflexes: Roll Initiative twice, pick higher Street Fighting: When armed with knife or smaller, add half WS bonus to Critical Damage Weapon Training Can use Flame, Las, Low-Tech, and Heavy weapons Whirlwind of Death Can attack up to WSB (4) enemies in melee Comrade Orders/Advances: Traits: Charmed: Roll 1d10 when use fate, on 9 or 10 get point back Ill-Omened: -10 interaction tests made with non-void born Void Accustomed: Zero-g not difficult terrain, only -10 to charge or run in zero G Hopelessly Primitive: -5 to WS/BS tests with non-Low-Tech weapons Survivalists: Reroll failed Survival and Navigate (Surface) tests Waste of Resources: -20 to Logistics tests to obtain non-Low-Tech weapons Gear: Great Weapon [Mono] M41 Multi-laser Flak Armor Stun Grenade x3 Frag Grenade x2 Rebreather XP: 1100/1100 Crushing Blow 400 Whirlwind of Death 450 Simple BS 250 Astus fucked around with this message at 18:41 on Jun 8, 2019 |
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Jun 3, 2019 05:26
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Yo get your sheets done and we'll start this shitshow on the weekend. Unless there's a sudden influx of applicants, everyone who's made a guy so far is in.
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Jun 6, 2019 03:19
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I'll have a dude up later today. I've been putting it off but I'll work on something during my dead time at work.
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Jun 7, 2019 14:06
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Astus, dont think you have the Strength req for bulging biceps there.MaliciousOnion posted:
Several tribes have frescoes of truly ancient scematics of the deck, with accumulated notations, displayed at their gathering places. Artistic skill and accuracy vary, but they are points of pride and are defended fiercely. A popular game among children is naming a particular room or corridor and without looking describing a route as far as they can without making mistakes. As a result, most tribesmen can name approximately where they are on the deck given some time and landmarks. Many of the weapons and tools used by the tribes are fashioned from broken or discarded pieces of wall and deck plating. It is considered bad luck to not have at least one thing that was once part of the ship on you at all times, even if only a rivet on a string. Sax Battler fucked around with this message at 01:19 on Jun 8, 2019 |
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Jun 8, 2019 00:55
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 In the darkest places of the deck there are things that lurk, and wait, and hunt the tribes for food or other, darker reasons. It takes a person of sterling qualities to lead the war parties that hunt these creatures back, facing them with little more than wits, grit, and improvised weapons. They must be skilled fighters, braves but not reckless, and able to terrify or inspire their subordinates into following orders. These qualities also make for an acceptable sergeant of the ship's militia. Lam Fada is one of these, reasonably comfortable with chainsword and las pistol these days but still holding on to the 'hunting lances' she would take into dark places. After all, a man who turns against the order of the ship is no more than a beast to be destroyed, and a shaped charge to the belly does well enough for any beast. quote:In order to develop your characters collectively, I'd like you each to come up with one superstition or tradition that's employed by the inhabitants of Deck 144. It can be something as simple as touching a particular girder every time it's passed as thanks for its protective presence, or it could be an entire coming-of-age ritual celebrated by the whole tribe. Twelve is an auspicious number for reasons lost to the elders of the tribes. A twelfth birthday, groups of twelve, twelves being generated in games of chance, all are celebrated. When loading or moving the sacred shells every twelfth one will be marked with a shout. pre:Name: Lam Fada Specialization: Sergeant Demeanor: Sensible Comrade: Vorgen, Quiet. Regiment: Underdeck Tribes Training Doctrine: Survivalists Special Equipment: Hardened Fighters, Die-Hards Drawback: Primitive Aptitudes: Agility, Defence, Fellowship, Leadership, Perception, Strength, Toughness, Weapon Skill, Willpower Characteristics: WS: 45 (20+20) [+5 Regiment] BS: 20 (20+00) S: 30 (20+10) T: 30 (20+10) Ag: 30 (20+7) [+3 Regiment] Int: 30 (20+13) [-3 Regiment] Per: 20 (20+00) WP: 43 (20+20) [+3 Regiment] Fel: 45 (20+20) [+5 Specialty] Wounds: 14/14 FP: 1/1 Insanity: 0 Corruption: 0 Skills: Acrobatics Athletics Command Common Lore (Tech) Dodge Linguistics (Low Gothic) Navigate (Stellar, Surface) Operate (Aeronautica) Parry Tech-Use Talents: Air of Authority Die Hard Foresight Iron Discipline Jaded Lightning Reflexes Radiant Presence Street Fighting Weapon Training (Las, Chain, Low Tech) Traits: Charmed Ill-Omened Survivalists Primitive Void Accustomed Gear: Chainsword 2x Low Tech Hand Weapon (Hunting Lance) Guard Flak Armor Las Pistol Rebreather Standard Guard Kit Advances: 1100/1100 --------------- WS BS S T Ag Int Per WP Fel 45 20 30 30 30 30 20 43 45 Wounds: 14/14 Fate 1/1 Fatigue Level: 0 Initiative: 2d10k1+3 Ground: 3/6/9/18 SB: 3 TB: 3 Awareness: 20 Dodge: 30 Parry: 50 (chainsword) Armour: 4 All Weapons: Chainsword Frag Grenade 9m S/-/- 2d10+ 0 X Pen 0 Clip: 2/2 -- Blast 3, Ogryn-Proof Hunting Lance Laspistol Stun Grenade 9m S/-/- ---- Pen 0 Clip: 3/3 -- Blast 3, Concussive 2 fate: 1d10 6 thatbastardken fucked around with this message at 13:48 on Jun 12, 2019 |
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Jun 8, 2019 12:52
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 Franklin "Rough Road" Temple" Being a ratling means being able to fit in just about anywhere. You can cook, you can 'acquire' goods easily, and people know you're a drat good shot. Most of the time, at least. Franklin hadn't intended to get caught up with the tribe that had sprung up in the lower part of the ship; hell, he didn't even know about them until he ran into them. No one really did, as far as he knew. Who would? Unless you were a gearhead or something, you stuck to your bunk and your cafeteria and got off on a shuttle when they told you to. People called him Rough Road for how haggard and how he looked; Franklin had seen action, and had done poo poo he wasn't too happy with. He drank heavily, and picked fights with people who someone his size had no right picking fights with. Usually they let him off with a few bruises and a curse, but one night he'd gotten a good lick on a sergeant whose flunkies decided the little abhuman should have a nice meeting with Emperor himself. He sobered up quick when the blades came out, and he booked it as best as he could. He just kept running, thinking they were right behind him, and before too long he found himself lost in a part of the ship he'd never seen before. That's when he found the shaman, and that's when he got hooked in with the undership tribe. Takes all kinds, really. quote:In order to develop your characters collectively, I'd like you each to come up with one superstition or tradition that's employed by the inhabitants of Deck 144. It can be something as simple as touching a particular girder every time it's passed as thanks for its protective presence, or it could be an entire coming-of-age ritual celebrated by the whole tribe. "I've discovered, much to my chagrin, that the Emperor's Tarot is completely unknown to these folks. While I COULD hustle a bunch of idiot bumpkins that hoot with joy every five minutes cause they think some box of ammo is special, it ain't as fun if they don't actually understand and respect the skill and intuition that goes into the game and couldn't tell if you were cheating even if you told 'em. I mean, you don't want the people who DO know how the game works to know you're cheating, but they can catch you at it, and that's the thrill, innit?" Name: Franklin "Rough Road" Temple Specialty: Ratling Demeanour: Death Wish/Addict Starting Aptitudes: Agility, Ballistic Skill, Fellowship, Fieldcraft, Finesse, Perception, Social WS: 20+2 BS: 20+20+10 S: 20 T: 20+10-10 Agi: 20+20 Int: 20+10 Per: 20+20+10 Wil: 20+3 Fel: 20+20+10 Wounds: 10/10 Fate: 2/2 Skills: Awareness Common Lore (Ecclesiarchy, Imperial Creed) Deceive Trade (Cook) Talents: Deadeye Shot Double Team Frenzy Giantkiller Heightened Senses (Sight, Smell, Taste) Peer (Ecclesiarchy) The Bigger They Are Unshakeable Faith Weapons Training (Las, Solid Projectile) Traits: Size (Weedy) Dishonoured Crusader Defender of the Faith Close-Order Drill Gear: GC Long Las XP: 1050/1100 BS +10 350 The Bigger They Are 300 Giantkiller 400 John Dyne fucked around with this message at 02:37 on Jun 10, 2019 |
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Jun 9, 2019 18:43
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The Squad
For those of you who are guardsmen, don't forget about your comrades. Game thread to come.
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Jun 10, 2019 02:13
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(Sigh) So, what did I do wrong in my character? So I know to avoid that in the future? Given how my character was actually Done, as opposed to a character sheet with no background or other information? Or did I just get unlucky and apply for a position that someone who was promised a spot wanted? Long story short, I'd just like to know what removed me from consideration so I don't make that mistake in the future.
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Jun 10, 2019 02:33
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Jun 10, 2019 05:58
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| # ? Apr 16, 2024 13:47 |
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Game is up
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Jun 11, 2019 05:44
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