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C put one skull in the air and strobe light every half second, have the other two in triangulation positions looking for anything that changes between flashes. Sweep the area
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Feb 14, 2015 19:23
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A B x x x x C x x B/C x x x x x, x x x D x E Plan My Dad wins this one, so Ill start sketching.
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Feb 14, 2015 19:48
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Well, crap. We are fighting a radically guerrilla force attempting to use conventional means. What could go wrong?
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Feb 14, 2015 20:12
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Sogol posted:Well, crap. We are fighting a radically guerrilla force attempting to use conventional means. What could go wrong? Everything. Which is why we're legging it if it turns out we can't take the enemy out quickly. e: If you mean the entire conflict, the same thing goes. Either you can break the nids quickly, or you get the hell out. my dad fucked around with this message at 20:17 on Feb 14, 2015 |
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Feb 14, 2015 20:14
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my dad posted:Everything. Which is why we're legging it if it turns out we can't take the enemy out quickly. Since it is based on genestealers it is also a long term fight. Is there precedent for anti-gene/counter warfare, vaccinations and such or is it really all cleanse it with fire?
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Feb 14, 2015 20:19
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The Last Starfighter You clicked the safety on, frustratingly. No one had seen anything, heard anything. Odds were it was a Lictor - a vicious Tyranid assassin, virtually invisible. You activated your comm. “Everyone, get in the trucks. I’m going to do one sweep. Be ready to roll out.” The squads obediently entered their vehicles, weapons outbound, eyes frantically looking about them. Your servo-skulls floated into the air, the full focus of their energy dedicated to their sensor suites. Chemical mixers reported… positive. There were definilty Tyranids in the area, but you couldn’t say what kind or how many. There were too many variations in the strain, and you hadn’t gotten any local samples. Analysis suggested … it might be a handful of small ones, or one medium one. Reports of vanished units flickered through your mind. Was this how it had started for them? You activated the light beams of the skulls, a rapid strobing pattern. Other skulls swept the area, looking for anything that stood out. … There was nothing. Either the enemy had left the area, or was too still to be seen. “Move out. Leave the radio tower, we can’t risk it.” It would be an unpleasant restriction on your communications - your ability to access HQ would be greatly reduced - but one Lictor could spend days picking you off. It was better to move with haste. The cold winds were already picking up, bits of metalline dust being carried and scratching at your face. You ordered the turret gunners to hatch up - the firepower wasn’t worth the danger to the gunners. You could tell why the locals called them Razor-storms. Even now, it was enough to trace long marks on your skin, and that was before the temperature dropped to debilitating levels. The binary star had almost completely flickered out, and you had the uneasy feeling of unreality, travelling through a world that was contrasted in almost pure black and white. Everything was highlighted in extremes, and it gave you a headache if you looked at it for too long. Your troops took to blinking longer, or rubbing their eyes. It was making everyone uncomfortable. Even as the winds picked up, you ordered your convoy to seek valleys, riverbeds, holding close to cliff sides. Now and again you could see an uptick in the wind pick up house sized objects of metal, throw them as if they were nothing. They crashed into the distance, leaving huge craters. It was another thirty six hours before you found the next item of interest. Your troops had taken to huddling together against the cold, looking up at the great cliffs and edges that surrounded them. Below you, sunken into a valley against the storms, human construction, and still functional. You could see the big prefab fortifications built by engineers in haste, and it was wrapped around an air-dropped Church - a common method of the Ecclesiarchy. You could see lights from the makeshift town, and you were willing to bet it could support about a hundred people. If they were still alive, anyway. Tyranids could have stripped it of organic material, or turned them into parasitically dominated zombies. Alternately, they might simply be feral or xenophobic villagers, ready to shoot you and strip you for your gear. You considered your options. What do you do? A. Bypass it. You can see the wall of the storm dominating the horizon, but you’ve managed to find natural enclosures so far. B. Stay outside and scout. You need more information. C. Approach in convoy fashion. It’s probably not a trap. D. These wilders respect strength. Storm the wall and occupy the base as long as you need it. E. Something else
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Feb 14, 2015 20:21
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B Even if we are not planning to make a pit stop, we should know more about who or what remains at the makeshift town. If it is a threat, we can decide to squash it or drive the hell on and if it isn't, well, stuff can happen....
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Feb 14, 2015 20:24
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B
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Feb 14, 2015 20:26
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Yes this is how it started for other units. They just strategically compromised our ability to communicate information to base increasing the odds of us just disappearing without any intel. I think I would have done a different risk/benefit analysis on the radio tower than we just did.
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Feb 14, 2015 20:27
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Sogol posted:Since it is based on genestealers it is also a long term fight. Is there precedent for anti-gene/counter warfare, vaccinations and such or is it really all cleanse it with fire? There aren't any preventive measures other than genetic screening from time to time, but cleansing genestealers without killing everyone can be done, and has been done, it just requires having heavy superiority in firepower, resources, and time. A hive fleet's presence throws that out the window. Sogol posted:Yes this is how it started for other units. They just strategically compromised our ability to communicate information to base increasing the odds of us just disappearing without any intel. I think I would have done a different risk/benefit analysis on the radio tower than we just did. We can't get help either way, so it's a risk we'll have to take. Other units weren't trying to keep a low profile and weren't constantly on the move, though, so we might have an advantage in that regard. As for the vote, B - stay paranoid, stay safe.
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Feb 14, 2015 20:31
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A Run and keep running
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Feb 14, 2015 20:32
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Question, do we know if comms still work in the storm? Could we continue to navigate? Would we be dishonored if we returned to base and reported our inability to pierce the storm?
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Feb 14, 2015 20:34
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B
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Feb 14, 2015 20:39
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RandomPauI posted:Question, do we know if comms still work in the storm? Could we continue to navigate? Would we be dishonored if we returned to base and reported our inability to pierce the storm? You have short range radios, which is the bigger problem. If you did get another tower, though, the storm is full of flying metal, which would cause a lot of interference. Navigation is increasingly tricky due to the light contrast, but you might still be able to find enough valleys and riverbeds to avoid the winds. You can pull back from the mission, but you are running low on time to get the Magos quest. So you might need to try another method, or tell them you failed.
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Feb 14, 2015 20:40
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We're a tech-priest that's leads an IG unit, we have combeads. Every soldier should have one. It's just that we would be listening to the command freq most often so we don't hear chatter of regular soldiers
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Feb 14, 2015 20:51
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B
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Feb 14, 2015 21:20
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As an aside, Grognan introduced me to this lovely read http://1d4chan.org/wiki/All_Guardsmen_Party Its an Interrogator story from the POV of the guardsmen retinue. Well done IMHO
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Feb 14, 2015 21:44
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Church in the Wild There were too many variables in play right now. You needed to know if the village was safe, or if it had been compromised. Even if it had been compromised, you were willing to bet that fighting a few xeno might have less casualties that staying out in the unprotected storm. They might even have some gear you could loot, or a change in diet. You weren’t sure, but you could swear even the Kriegers were getting tired of the same preserved military rations day after day. With that in mind, you sent out a handful of the servo-skulls to investigate. They stayed low to the ground, to reduce their profile. It was a pity that the motion of their flight might attract attention, but you simply needed more information. It was the best of several options - if you sent them into the air, they would be seen immediately, and you would be identified as Mechanicus. If you sent troops, you risked further casualties. A slow stealthy approach seemed best. The walls were almost bizarrely mundane. No cracks or breaches, no sign of tampering - just the general wear and tear of surviving the storm. You took a moment of pride in knowing it was the product of the Mechanicus that had built such a thing, able to handle the worst this planet could throw at them. Large pneumatic pistons rested on one side, holding closed a hatch that looked no different from the wall. It was big enough to allow in vehicles, but was currently closed. Looking around, you could see several pikes, wedged deep into the snow. There were a dozen heads on them - all of them save the center were the heads of ‘gaunts, while the place of honor was a Lictor. Your opinion of them raised considerably. When you had faced a (probable) Lictor, you had run like hell, but they had just put it on display. Rather impressive. If this was a trap, you were having trouble seeing it. What do you do? A. Send skulls over the wall to examine the village itself. B. Advance the troops and knock on the door. C. Infiltrate the Machine-Spirit personally and get the door open. D. Hunker outside/bypass the village E. Something Else
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Feb 14, 2015 22:00
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B
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Feb 14, 2015 22:03
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Why the hell don't our troops have GoPros strapped to their helmets? Several Go pros. Seriously. A while Cb: Hack the door mechanism and get it's last few logs, how often does it open etc, and is there any other machine spririts in action around here? Then is if looks safe B Outrail fucked around with this message at 22:21 on Feb 14, 2015 |
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Feb 14, 2015 22:18
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B I'm feeling lucky
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Feb 14, 2015 22:20
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Outrail posted:Why the hell don't our troops have GoPros strapped to their helmets? Several Go pros. Seriously. They cause migraines, eventually. Extra helmet weight hurts. But if you want to strip some cameras from your skulls and strap them onto a helmet, thats a thing you can do 
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Feb 14, 2015 22:21
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A Do our skulls have loudspeakers?
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Feb 14, 2015 22:21
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Volmarias posted:A Currently I have them listed as vox module and sensor suite (lights/cameras et al). If you want to tweak the vox, you can.
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Feb 14, 2015 22:23
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LowellDND posted:They cause migraines, eventually. Extra helmet weight hurts. A camera should be negligible weight compared to the helmet... unless.... we're stuck with Grim Dark Retarded technology that weighs pounds and transmits warp radiation? Can we mount a camera on the shoulder pad/chestplate/backplate/codpiece? We need to go full Heretek and instigate a new Dark Light Age of Technology, write our own drat STC.
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Feb 14, 2015 22:27
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Outrail posted:A camera should be negligible weight compared to the helmet... unless.... we're stuck with Grim Dark Retarded technology that weighs pounds and transmits warp radiation? Yeah, a chest piece would be workable. Less mobile then having it on a skull, but you'd get to see whatever killed your guardsmen.
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Feb 14, 2015 22:28
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Guardsmen are cheaper than cameras. 
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Feb 14, 2015 22:34
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my dad posted:Guardsmen are cheaper than cameras. That's only true for fresh conscripts. Blooded, well-equipped veterans are a carefully spent commodity.
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Feb 14, 2015 22:46
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B They are blessed by the Emperor.
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Feb 14, 2015 23:08
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A
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Feb 14, 2015 23:27
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Advance! You shrugged internally. Wasn’t much for it, there was a storm coming. You gave the order, and your vehicles made their way down the slow winding path. You were briefly grateful that your vehicles had come with dozer blades - the snow and debris was starting to clump up, and you shuddered to think what progress would have been like without it. While you decided to get to know the door better, your servo-skulls were already advancing up the wall. Their little engines hummed oddly in the distance as they climbed - it was a few dozen meters, dropped right out of orbit, and you just knew the foundation went deep. Even though you had been calling it a village, it could have just as easily been called a micro-fortress. You thought putting it at the bottom of a valley would have made it easy prey for artillery, but given the winds that were happening out there, you felt more sorry for the artillery pieces. Connecting with the Machine-Spirit… ah. Pretty mundane service record, to be honest. Opened every few weeks, while an interior door opened more often. you speculated one was for vehicles and the other was for individual personnel. Your skulls were in the air and peeking over the wall. The images they were sending back were fairly mundane - a couple large buildings, huddled under the protecting embrace of the wall. The courtyard was dominated by the Church, which even had a small statue dedicated to Sebastian Thor. Well, that was thoughtful of them. Your skulls were reporting interesting positioning of the inhabitants - it looked like they were expecting you. While they weren’t all looking at the gate, they did have an orientation to it. Like they expected it to open but weren’t sure when. Ah well. You strolled over to the large gate and knocked politely. A moment later, an older man popped his head out of a small hatch. His hair was wild, as if it had never seen a brush, and there were various pox marks on his face, the signs of a life without easy access to medical care. Didn’t match any of the popular infectious diseases though - more looked like some skin condition or another. You’d need samples to be sure. He looked down at you, his voice a nearly-incomprehensible variant of Low-Gothic. You blinked, focused on the words… “Ah. You want payment?” “Of course. All travellers need to pay to access the Church of the Wilderness.” You looked at him skeptically. “Seems contrary to the idea of getting new converts.” He gestured at the storm. “Not many seem inclined to say no, for some reason.” “Fine. How many Thrones?” He wheezed a laugh. “How many Thrones? Do you see anything to spend it on here?” “What do you want then?” “A story.” “What?” “An original story. From your world, one that we haven’t heard before.” “And if you have heard it?” “Then you are looking at a cold night tonight, aren’t you?” You considered your childhood. “Okay, how about this. The Cadian Gate is the lock around the Eye of Terror, the bulwark that keeps the rest of the Imperium safe. Every year, hordes of the Enemy come swarming out, sometimes on raids, sometimes on Black Crusades. “One day, one particular incursion had gotten particularly bad.” Your voice firmed into the cadence of your childhood. “A creature of the Enemy, one who I won’t name, had breached the Gate, and was well on his way to assault Holy Terra. All the guardsmen had fallen, the dreadnoughts were sundered, and everywhere, the creatures of the Enemy slavered. The Prince of the Enemy laughed, and all who heard it covered their ears. “Rising from the pile of the dead, someone who was terribly wounded, a Space-Marine of tremendous power. The Prince, seeing his wounds, laughed mightily, and knew that he would get another notch on his blade that day. And all his minions laughed with him.” “Brother Sejanus was not threatened, however. He raised his sword, half broken, and told the Prince he would be going to the Warp this day. “The Prince, seeing his determination, grew grim, and spread his terrible wings. He sprinted towards Sejanus, fangs ready for his lifeblood. And Sejanus met him, and their swords made a tremendous thunder. “They battled a day and a night, until they could swing at each other no more. They glared at each other and breathed heavily, waiting even an hour for the other to make a move. Suddenly, they both lunged at each other. The strength of their arms was such that Sejanus was thrown offworld, and the Prince was thrown back into the warp. “Ice grew on Sejanus, and he circled the sun of Cadia. Every century, he makes his way back to the Cadian Gate, and every century, the Prince finds his way out of the Warp. And they continue their battle, until they are thrown from each other once again.” The gatekeeper stared at you, and then nodded. “That’s a good story.” The great door began swinging down and your troops entered the courtyard. Meanwhile, you tossed your head at the Tyranids on pikes. “What about them? What’s the story there?” He chuckled. “You have a good eye. ‘Gaunts are easy enough, if you are quick and sharp, but the big one gave us some trouble it did. It was a sneaky thing. You see, it was so fast, and so smart, that it only moved when you blinked. It would watch your eyes, staring at them with its horrible black orbs, and when you felt your eyes water and eyelids twitch, it would be upon you. It could travel twenty meters in a blink, and you would be dead without being able to do a thing about it. “Now, Old Man Henderson has glass eyes.” You laughed, and he grinned. “Right, you see where I’m going with this. Old Man Henderson waited on the walls, staring with his dead eyes, waiting for it to make an appearance. And finally it did, drawn to win this contest of eyes. Only Old Man Henderson never blinked. It stood in the snow for hours, even as others snuck up on it with blades. “And that’s how we got a new head for the pikes.” “That’s a fine story, indeed. Now, tell me…” What do you ask for? A. Rest and a place to stay. You should wait out the storm. B. A map. You need to keep moving, and knowing where the valleys are will help you. C. A radio tower or the supplies for one. You need to find out how the war is going. D. Information. How did he know about Tyranids when the entire IG force didn’t? E. Something else.
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Feb 14, 2015 23:27
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Old Man Henderson has a way of killing the unkillable no matter where he is, I guess. A/D - Knowledge is power. And a storm is coming.
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Feb 14, 2015 23:32
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B/C- We need to know how much time we have before we need to skedaddle, and the quickest path to our destination.
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Feb 14, 2015 23:33
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A
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Feb 14, 2015 23:34
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LowellDND posted:Advance! Trigger phrase detected!!! A. We have almost certainly been followed here and our location is known. These are veteran hunters. Perhaps we can entice an attack while we are still here. Sogol fucked around with this message at 23:54 on Feb 14, 2015 |
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Feb 14, 2015 23:51
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A Truly those of this shrine are under the personal watch of the Emperor. Stay a while, listen and tell stories.
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Feb 14, 2015 23:56
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[CYOA intersection acknowledged] ABCD. We're stuck there all night, might as well ask him everything (aka give him a good Thom'ing). Also, explain to him exactly what a tyranid infestation is, and what it means for the long term survivability of anything within several solar units of the planet. Then explain to him who we are, what we are capable of, and that we should like to offer him the opportunity of a lifetime, to extend their lifetimes and to (violently) introduce the faith to xenos species across the galaxy. His church can come too. Yes the people. Maybe the church building as well.
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Feb 15, 2015 00:18
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Outrail posted:[CYOA intersection acknowledged] Agreeing with this. We've got all night, might as well get some rest, some resupply, share stories and tactics relating to the 'nids, and see if they have any tech that could be useful for long-range communication (even just back to this outpost). These folks have jibs, and I like the cut of them. Totally offer them help getting off-world as well. Could be good to have a grateful church on our side on the Beast. Also, I'm curious: they've been here a while; think they have tunnels in the direction we're going?
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Feb 15, 2015 00:40
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Outrail posted:[CYOA intersection acknowledged] This is a good idea
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Feb 15, 2015 00:45
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Outrail posted:[CYOA intersection acknowledged] I vote this
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Feb 15, 2015 00:56
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