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DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis
Joe Carter
Bennies 2 Dementia 0

He heard about the others. The Saxemberg team. They got a whole lot of experience in that Nazi base. When the monster attacked the Jeremiah, he got to see some of them in firefight first hand. They handled themselves well. Probably better than anyone else on this iceberg. Don't know if I could handle all that stuff myself. Got through my own horrors, but it was just the one time. Joined the fighting on this iceberg, but it was late in the game and most of our weapons didn't seem to do much. Doesn't encourage me with our drop. Can't really bring any heavy weapons. It would be nice to have some dropped, but then we'd have to haul them over land. Doubt the Krauts would sick monsters on us if they caught us approaching their base. A few grenades should put down any little monsters we find. The bastards ain't immune to explosions, so we got that for us.

The clock was ticking. When they boarded this plane, he volunteered to be the first one off. Any other time, he wouldn't have volunteered himself, but since he was the only airborne in the plane it was a matter of honor that he went first. First time for a jump into a winter wonderland, but he thought, at least there should be a soft landing. He stepped out of the plane and let his training take over.

<El_Bubonico_MD> !wild d6-1
* MadBot rolled a (1d6-1) with wild die for El_Bubonico_MD and got ( 3 3 ) Results: 3
<El_Bubonico_MD> Using a bennie to make sure I succeed
<El_Bubonico_MD> !wild d6-1
* MadBot rolled a (1d6-1) with wild die for El_Bubonico_MD and got ( 6 3 ) Results: 6

DocBubonic fucked around with this message at 21:27 on Jul 24, 2017

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Fathis Munk
Feb 23, 2013

??? ?
Victoire Doucet, W 4/4, B 2, D 0/5, Shots 7/7

Oh god oh god oh god, it was actually going to happen, she was going to have to jump out of a plane. It had only been a couple of weeks since she had first set foot into an airplane and now they expected her to jump out of one. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply, hoping it wasn't too obvious. She had volunteered to jump second, mostly because she was afraid her nerves would let her down if she had to wait any longer. As she sat there and tried to calm down, Pétain's motto for his traitor republic popped into her mind for some reason.

Travail, Famille, Patrie, Work, Family, Homeland. As much as she hated the man, Victoire agreed with those ideals. She was here in this godforsaken place for her homeland, for what was left of her family and last but not least because this had become her work, her duty. Victoire had never tried to shirk what she felt was her duty so far, and she was not going to start now. She was going to stand up and give her best, she was going to get down there and save her homeland and if that was the last thing she did, well so be it, she would have done her duty.

She tried to remember what the others had told her about parachuting, took a deep breath, and followed Joe into the black emptiness, screaming.

"POUR LA FRAAAAAAAAaaaa...."

(18:20:23) FathisMunk: !wild d10-1 parachuting
(18:20:25) ***MadBot rolled a (1d10-1) with wild die for FathisMunk and got ( 6 3 ) Results: 6
(18:20:27) FathisMunk: phew

Razeam
Jul 13, 2004

Nya~
Séverine Gascoigne

A pale brunette checks her gear as she blinks against the wind rushing from the abyss. Séverine sets her jaw after she witnesses her new squad begin their descent. The second lieutenant steps forward and forward into a leap and adroitly falls down into frigid emptiness!

* MadBot rolled a (1d6-1) with wild die for Razeam and got ( 7 0 ) Results: 7

Oracle
Oct 9, 2004

Harry

He sits on the plane, dozing, the outline of his body barely visible for all the gear strapped to him. Apparently Harry wasn't one to travel light. In addition to the bulky winter wear, he's decided its very important to be able to fire things up. Perhaps he's worried about being cold. More likely he's worried about cleaning out the base they're heading to.

He's got at least a dozen grenades on his belt and in his pockets, a gas canister on his back with its attendant nozzle strapped to his chest, along with a bulky pack filled with god knows what. Food maybe. Survival equipment? Skis? He has goddamn skis. Where the hell did a Maori learn how to snow ski?

Maybe he figures it can't be much different from waterskiing and plans on winging it. Can't hurt to be prepared.

He heaves to his feet with a groan and moves to the door, readying himself to go third. Watching the new guy and Victoire jump, he nods, throws one his wild grins over his shoulder at the rest, and says, "See you lot in the lobby. Goin' down!" And he jumps.

Oracle: !wild d8-1
***MadBot rolled a (1d8-1) with wild die for Oracle and got ( 4 7 ) Results: 7

Brave: +2 vs Fear (from advance)
Nerves of Steel: Ignore 1 point of wound penalties
Commando: (+2 fatigue for environmental hazards/sleep/march, +2 survival, +1 stealth)
Unarmed Strike d8 (Str)


Bayonet (as knife) d8 (Str+d4)
Bayonet (attached) d8 (Str+d6, Parry +1, Reach 1, 2 Hands)
Browning Hi-Power Pistol (9mm) d6 (2d6-1, 12/24/48, AP 1, RoF 1, Shots 13, Semi-Auto) (2 extra clips)
Grenade: Mk2 Pineapple d6 (3d6, 5/10/20, Medium Burst) (10)
Lee-Enfield Mk.III (.303) d6 (2d8, 24/48/96, AP 1, RoF 1, Shots 10, Snap Fire) (2 extra magazines)
Flamethrower
Arctic Survival Gear
XC skis + poles
small sled for gear (think toboggan)
one weeks worth trail rations (beef jerky, spam etc)
Sm gas burner + pot for snowmelt for water + lighter
cigarettes (1 pack)
book matches
climbing gear + rope

Oracle fucked around with this message at 20:52 on Aug 1, 2017

A Velociraptor!
Aug 20, 2007

Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood

His stomach tightens as the moonlit shore comes into view. After all the hours of planning for the best course of approach with the brass, he'll soon be flying over the white land of Antarctica and it's a little hard to believe. The fear of the unknown and the jump about to be made grips him tightly.

He looks across to his co-pilot, a bright young chap named Jenkins who performs his duties like a true ace. He'd met the lad a few times on the Jeremiah and was glad to have him along for the ride.

"Nearly there, Jenkins, give them the signal." As Jenkins flicks the switch for the red light and the final briefing sounds out over his headset, Dicky makes the last preparations to hand over the controls. It's a pity he won't be giving the Nazis what for from the skies with the other lads, but he couldn't well fly his friends out here and let them jump into God-knows-what without coming along as well. Besides, as safe as he might feel in the air, he honestly believes that his best chance to survive whatever horrors are in store for him here are with the very same people who helped him survive the horrors of Saxemburg and the events aboard the Jeremiah.

Once preparations are made to hand over, he climbs out of his chair, shakes Jenkins's hand and grins as the boy tells him to give them hell. "Thanks, chap. You do the same when your time comes and I'll see you on the other side for a glass of the good stuff." The boy has a good head on his shoulders and Dicky prays that the lad survives the battle to come.

Stepping out of the cockpit finds him just in time to have a mouthful of coffee before it's all gone. The shot of alcohol with it makes his nerves a little steadier too. He suits up into the parachute and is given a hand by a commando to fix his gear and weapons to him; he had been sure to take whatever items of use he could find from the Jeremiah's stores before taking to the air.

Given the all clear that his gear is secure, he fixes his pilot googles around his eyes, hoists up his scarf and fully zips up his winter coat as the door is opened and the cold air fills the aircraft.

There is no waiting as he makes his way over to the open door when the red light switches to green. Close behind Harry, he jumps into the biting cold sky without allowing himself a second to hesitate.

<A_Velociraptor> !wild d8-1 (Parachute roll)
* MadBot rolled a (1d8-1) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 25 0 ) Results: 25
<A_Velociraptor> :X

Dicky will be sporting his usual gear as well as a few choice items from the arsenal:

-Arctic clothing
-A Sten Mk. I submachine gun with lots of ammo!
-A pair of snow shoes
-Climbing gear + rope
-Two grenades
-A bottle of brandy


Mukaikubo
Mar 14, 2006

"You treat her like a lady... and she'll always bring you home."
Sgt. Ted WIllis

Ted is not afraid to become an impromptu paratrooper. After all, if it was really hard, they wouldn't let line infantry do it. Since they did, it couldn't be all that much of a challenge. So he'd nodded blankly as they were told about their mission, not complaining as ever. Jump out of a plane at the bottom of the world, hike a few miles of frozen hellscape, and then assault a Nazi base stuffed with the most unnatural horrors the worst minds of Germany could cook up? Yeah, that seemed to be about right.

He hadn't been nervous about the jump, and even dozed off in the airplane because you never really knew when you were going to get a second chance. He'd checked his chute the way they'd told him before taking off. Why worry now? In Ted's mind, quite a large part of being a good soldier was just being able to correctly do what you'd been taught how to do when you were supposed to do it. This wasn't any different. Woke up on his own, shuffled over to the door, waited for it to turn green. The gung ho could go first, he didn't mind. Combat engineers were supposed to have at least a few infantrymen between them and the enemy, for what little it was worth in an artillery war. Didn't bother with any pithy statements. Just... peered out into the frigid, bleak air as the door opened, watched a few people jump out and promptly disappear into the murk, and then stepped out as though he were getting off a streetcar.

And the damned thing was, it turned out he was basically right about the parachuting thing. Nothing to it. Just another day in the You Ess Army.

Taking along the typical soldier's kit, plus arctic survival gear, climbing rope, snow shoes, his toolkit, and- say- five pounds of demolitions high explosive.

<Mukaikubo> !wild d8-1
* MadBot rolled a (1d8-1) with wild die for Mukaikubo and got ( 21 4 ) Results: 21
<Mukaikubo> :geno:

Fraction Jackson
Oct 27, 2007

Able to harness the awesome power of fractions
Ronnie

So it turned out his assumptions were a little off.

When they first formed the 1st Special Service Force and had them training in middle of nowhere Montana, they had done jump training, and then ended up mostly using the unit for other kinds of insertions instead. That was, of course, the point of the unit - to be able to be anywhere, anytime. But Ronnie had expected an insertion by sea this time too, if only because he figured most of the others would never even have done a single practice jump before. He wasn't sure about the new ones, but he highly doubted some of the others had been here, like this.

But then, why risk wasting the people who've seen all the Nazi craziness before by letting them get mowed down on the beach if they were unlucky? Taken that way, the aerial insertion made more sense to him. If he can remember his training right, he figures it'll all be okay at least until first contact with the enemy.

He waits his turn, smiling the whole time, readying himself for the moment where his feet won't be touching anything and it's as much in the 'chute's hands as anything. When the moment comes, he jumps with only a shout of "Let's go!"


[17:58] <FractionJackson> !wild 1d10-1
[17:58] * MadBot rolled a (1d10-1) with wild die for FractionJackson and got ( 8 1 ) Results: 8
Gear requests:
Will swap out M1 Garand for Johnson M1941 and as much ammo as he can carry. At least 8 mags if possible.
Also: snowshoes, arctic survival kit, climbing gear and rope. Thankfully he's already got winter clothing!

Redeye Flight
Mar 26, 2010

God, I'm so tired. What the hell did I post last night?
Mladyshi Serzhant Maksim Smirnov

At the back of the plane was a stout, compact man lost in deep thought as they neared the site. Why me? He'd been informed, of course--seen the remnants of the thing fought off by this band on the great Allied ice-ship. Such a crew could not go without a Soviet--it would not do!--and since their erstwhile and obvious commander had been borrowed for the armored landing, clearly a replacement had to be found.

But why him? It was not that he felt himself incapable, and certainly not unwilling--if the fascists thought they could run to the bottom of the world to hide from the vengeance for what they had done to Mother Russia, he was all too happy to disappoint them. But, well, he didn't think himself all that special. Or standout. Certainly not a commander on par with such a Soviet hero. Yet the SMERSH man in the bowler hat had told him he was "just what this group needed."

Maksim Smirnov shook his head, looking up as the light changed. Well, to hell with it then! Far be it from him to question orders of battle beyond his scope. He hooked up, and grinned at the others as they leapt out. "As Union calls, we answer!" And at that he tossed a salute to the pilot, headed down the aisle, and flung himself out the door with no more of a word.

For whatever else they may accuse him of, let no man accuse Maksim Vladimirovich of not knowing, front to back, how to do his job.


<Redeye> !wild d6+1
* MadBot rolled a (1d6+1) with wild die for Redeye and got (2 3) Results: 3



Irakliy and his crew have been requisitioned for the armored spearhead of the assault--as a result, Maksim here will be filling in for him until such time as the party rejoins with the main force! Say hello, comrade, shouldn't be long.

Maksim comes fresh from the Soviet landing crew with a fully outfitted Red Army arsenal and a head far too full of Soviet realism to let any silly otherworldly horrors get a foothold.

Redeye Flight fucked around with this message at 06:03 on Jul 27, 2017

GaistHeidegger
May 20, 2001

"Can you see?"
Antarctica - Ritscher Station Approach

One after another the members of the assault team leap free from the belly of the aircraft, frigid winds whipping against bound and bundled forms with buffeting lances of penetrating chill. Pulses racing and hearts pounding, adrenaline flows freely in the descent over that glittering expanse below--a vast sea of arctic snow casting a seemingly rippling sheen beneath the dimmed twilight. Wrapped and wreathed in the accouterments of arctic warfare, the men and women of the team are lost to one another for a few long, tense moments.

Dizzying and disorienting, the descent proves daunting enough even for those accustomed to parachuting--and gaining bearings of the horizon and just how near that indistinct carpet of frost-strewn terrain was truly becoming. A chute opens up as a ripcord is drawn taut, released to lurch skyward and unfurl; another, and then another and more still blossom soon afterward, turning those tumultuous and terrifying plummets into wafting sways.

Cold uncertainty buries deep into the bone; in the hours which lay ahead, a combined force would begin their assault against an uncertain defense force at the supply station. Thousands of fighting men and women would face potential peril--and those twin teams of brave souls had been entrusted with the frightful work of preparing the way, possibly seeing to the saving of countless lives... should they succeed.

One after another the members of the assault team drift down among the snow and ice, boots crunching, legs burying, gear tugging and chill piercing in at times jostling and rigorous landfall. Sgt. Willis and Sgt. Barton-Morewood manage their landings with what can only be described as perfect precision--neither man sinks overmuch against the snow, and both manage to stow their chutes and ready their gear well ahead of the rest of the team.

Gradually, nominal bearings are regained as the team trudges over tundra and snow to draw together once more. Once together, it was simply a matter of navigating to the supply station while staving off the elements, circumventing any sentries or guards, infiltrating the facility, identifying targets of opportunity and executing as much destruction as possible--while hopefully living through it.


You've all successfully landed, without anyone ending up terribly off-course. Congratulations.

Now, the harder part: it is presently -37° F / -38° C, with wind speeds around 50 miles (80km) per hour. These are far from ideal conditions--surviving for a prolonged period of time could see the elements bringing casualties independent of German forces.

Visiblity is seasonally limited--the sun does not rise above the horizon, meaning dimness or outright darkness much of the time; this does help to shroud your approach, but it also means that spotting the enemy can prove similarly difficult. On the plus side, it does also mean you're at much reduced risk of suffering snow-blindness.

Finally, due to effects from the aurora australis, radio communication is unreliable at best from distortion; you also run the risk of interception from any functional and manned German communications operatives. That being said, you can attempt radio communication with the Allied forces if you'd like to take your chances along the way--and someone decided to bring a radio kit.

Speaking of kits, we mostly skimmed past gear allotment, but this is your last opportunity to check and re-check to make sure everyone brought absolutely everything you meant to.

Be advised that proper arctic survival gear bears with it the burden of bulk and weight--you're looking at between 10 and 20 lbs (4.5 and 9kg) of added weight from cold-weather survival clothing; this translate to slower and more cumbersome movement and ultimately a -2 penalty to any 'extreme' physical trait rolls ahead. If anyone doesn't want to wear the full cold-weather survival load-out, please make it known.

What you actually have up now:

Everyone should make a Vigor test (-1) against the elements, with a +2 bonus if you elected to take the full arctic survival gear. Failure translates into a level of Fatigue. Ted and Dicky get an additional +1 to this test.

Presently, you'll need to get your bearings with a Survival test, which will be served as a group cooperative roll; nominate someone from the team to lead the roll, and then anyone else with Survival can attempt to contribute successes and raises towards improving it (or failures towards potentially hindering it.)

Razeam
Jul 13, 2004

Nya~
Séverine Gascoigne

"An excellent landing!" she cheers in spite of muffling elements and balaclava. Her steely blue eyes reflect the speckled firmament as she stares off into the horizon. Séverine looks over her shoulder and flatly states, "I can't make heads or tails of our position. I defer to your expertise, gentlemen."

Willing to give my extra benny from Rank (Officer) to the leader if our Survival check goes badly!
Vigour check (Arctic gear bonus): * MadBot rolled a (1d6+1) with wild die for Razeam and got ( 11 8 ) Results: 11

Razeam fucked around with this message at 07:53 on Aug 1, 2017

A Velociraptor!
Aug 20, 2007

Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood

He had undergone basic training for making parachute jumps and he now finds his memory clearing recalling every detail from the instructor as he descends and makes what he assumes to be an absolute textbook landing. Despite the harsh winds, he quickly gathers his chute up before being blown halfway across the continent. Dicky then fixes his snow shoes firmly to his boots before he starts to trudge through the snow to gather up with the rest of his comrades. The rush of excitement from the jump and the bulky, yet padded, survival gear certainly makes the biting cold of the arctic less of a pain than he thought it would be. But still, the chilling wind nips at his body uncomfortably as he moves and he hopes they won't be stuck out in this weather for long.

"Bloody thrilling, that was," he says once they're all gathered and accounted for, having to speak rather loudly through his clothing and over the wind to be heard. "As for where we are..." He takes a moment to get his bearings, borrowing a compass and scanning back to where he landed before looking around him. "We landed pretty much bang on. The coast is back in that direction-" He points to his right. "-So I think it's that way." He turns and points ahead of him, into the distance.

<A_Velociraptor> !wild d8+2 (Vigor Check)
* MadBot rolled a (1d8+2) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 24 5 ) Results: 24
<A_Velociraptor> oh what

<A_Velociraptor> !wild d4 (Survival)
* MadBot rolled a (1d4) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 11 1 ) Results: 11

A Velociraptor! fucked around with this message at 18:52 on Aug 1, 2017

Fraction Jackson
Oct 27, 2007

Able to harness the awesome power of fractions
Ronnie

It's cold up there.

He knows it's going to be cold down there too.

S/Sgt. Thomas had been cold before, of course. But not so cold that he needed to wear something like this. It's not quite as easy to move as he'd like. But training comes through, if perhaps unspectacularly compared to some of the others in the squad, and he makes it down about as cleanly as he did by the end of his training back in Montana. That's all right, though - after all, the worst was yet to come.

On the ground, he disentangles from the chute, and from the snow itself, pats himself down to make sure everything made it to the ground with him, and straps those snowshoes on. Then, getting up onto the snow as much as the shoes allow, he takes a second to spread snow around to cover the divots from his landing, just in case. He isn't about to take chances guessing exactly how far out Nazi patrols might go, and have them all get spotted before they were even in sight of the station. Even with the interference from the aurora, there's no sense in risking having their position called in; at that point the mission would more or less change to taking as many bastards with them as they can, he reckons.

Preparations done, he shuffles over, the noise of him covered up by the wind, to where the group was gathering. Ronnie listens to Séverine and Dicky, then looks up at the sky. He stares for a moment, then traces with an arm back towards where Dicky said the coast is. Then he points off in...close to the same direction that Dicky did - a few degrees' difference, but not major. "Should be we're close enough that it won't make much difference," he notes.

[10:39] <FractionJackson> !wild 1d8+1 vigor
[10:39] * MadBot rolled a (1d8+1) with wild die for FractionJackson and got ( 2 11 ) Results: 11
[10:46] <FractionJackson> !wild 1d4+2 survival
[10:46] * MadBot rolled a (1d4+2) with wild die for FractionJackson and got ( 4 4 ) Results: 4
Ronnie is lead, apparently, so at least that didn't fail.
Gear updated on sheet.

Fraction Jackson fucked around with this message at 19:28 on Aug 1, 2017

Oracle
Oct 9, 2004

Harry

He lands tolerably well for someone who's never done this into snow and bitter cold, batting down his chute and folding it up before stowing it on the sled. He finds the others easily enough, pulling down the facemask to protect his skin from the cold.

And my God, the cold. Its never felt so cold. Not on deck on the floating iceberg they called a ship, not on the coldest day back home. Snow was not a familiar thing to the Maori; mountains were holy, they didn't go up to the snowline. Now he knew why; this boohai was bloody mad. It felt like he wasn't wearing nothing at all. Bloody Germans were a few sammies short of a picnic to be down here.

He sighs irritably, strapping on the skis. Well, nothing for it. He stands and looks to Ronnie. All his talk about Anzio and Nunzio whatever other -zio's he'd been in in the Alps or wherever the hell was about to be put to the test, right.

"So which way's up?" he shouts into the biting wind, sparing a glance for the dancing lights above them.

Vigor
Oracle: !wild 1d10+2
***MadBot rolled a (1d10-1) with wild die for Oracle and got ( 0 4 ) Results: 4
Survival
Oracle: !wild 1d6+2
***MadBot rolled a (1d6+2) with wild die for Oracle and got ( 3 6 ) Results: 6

Redeye Flight
Mar 26, 2010

God, I'm so tired. What the hell did I post last night?
Mladyshi Serzhant Maksim Smirnov

It's the wind that almost does him in. They'd trained for crosswinds in jumps, but it had been a year since he'd done one, and at any rate there had never been one like this. Fortunately, he gets control of the risers quickly enough, and manages to tack into the wind until he gets back with the group.

It isn't the finest landing Maksim has ever made, but he gets down and out of his chute without any further trouble. The hellish wind immediately tries to rip it off down the glacier; fortunately, he manages to get it close enough to him to slice through with his knife, deflating the chute so he can pack and bury it. That sorted, he double-checks his equipment and regroups with the crew, skis affixed. He grins at the big Maori, pointing upwards. "Like so." He laughs, and then gestures at Dicky. "Commander has right of it, I think. Based on view from above." He glaces at the path, and gestures around the group. "Skiers should vanguard column, others, move single file, and try to follow leader's footprints. Will make moving through snow easier."


<Redeye> !wild d8+1
* MadBot rolled a (1d8+1) with wild die for Redeye and got ( 8 6 ) Results: 8
<Redeye> Maksim passes the poo poo out of the Vigor test

<Redeye> !wild d6
* MadBot rolled a (1d6) with wild die for Redeye and got ( 3 8 ) Results: 8
<Redeye> And that's Survival



Maksim is volunteering to outride, basically, having skis. While not rigged for full demolitions like Ted, he has come with two delayed-fuse firestarter bombs and an assortment of grenades.

Maksim also
doesn't have a radio set, as unlike Irakliy he isn't trained in communications. So someone else is going to have to do that.

Redeye Flight fucked around with this message at 23:06 on Aug 3, 2017

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis
Joe Carter
Bennies 2 Dementia 0

The freezing air hit him like a brick. He knew how cold it could be jumping, but the antarctic air happened to be far worse. Still his training kicked in and he landed near the others. Sinking up to his waist in snow, he detached the chute and got out of the harness. Gathering up the chute he buried it in the snow. No telling if the Nazis would even send scouts this far out, but he didn't want to take chances. After dealing with his chute, he put on his skis and joined up with the others.

He listened in as they talked. Some of them were trained for this, which made him feel a little better. The conditions didn't bother him that much. Not compared to what they were up against. Plans were made and he nodded in understanding. He took his place in column.

Vigor test:
Docbubonic !wild d8+1
MadBot rolled a (1d8+1) with wild die for Docbubonic and got ( 6 4 ) Results: 6

Adding skis to gear.

Fathis Munk
Feb 23, 2013

??? ?
Victoire Doucet, W 4/4, B 2, D 0/5, Shots 7/7

Something was here and now it isn't because I am an idiot and overwrote it.

Gear : complete survival outfit
Shotgun with ammo
Luger with ammo
Bayonett
First aid satchels

Fathis Munk fucked around with this message at 22:48 on Aug 15, 2017

Fraction Jackson
Oct 27, 2007

Able to harness the awesome power of fractions
Ronnie

Ronnie listens to one of the new assignments - Soviet, seemed to know how this worked pretty well - and fiddles with his gear a bit as he does, a bundle of energy waiting to get moving. Moving would help keep them warm, too. He nods twice. "Single file is less tracks, too, so I agree. Less evidence. More we can hide the fact we're here, the better, at least that's how I see it. Try to keep it quiet as long as we can." Ronnie stares off in the identified direction, any hint of an expression hidden by the cover over his mouth, though it didn't quite muffle the eagerness in his tone. "Longer we do, the more of 'em we can deal with before they know we're here. Easy pickings."

"Other than that: if someone feels weird or tired all of a sudden, you say something. And someone sees one of us doing something weird...we gotta keep an eye on that too. Cold fucks with the head sometimes." With that last survival tidbit, he turns to Lt. Gascoigne. Even if Ronnie is supposed to be guiding for this segment, he's still sensitive to the chain of command. "I'd advise we make sure we didn't lose anything in the jump, and then it's your order from there, Lieutenant." He very much pronounces it the American way, though. "Don't mean to step on anyone's toes. Once we make contact with the bastards it'll be like any old infiltration...just colder."

Razeam
Jul 13, 2004

Nya~
Séverine Gascoigne

The second lieutenant nods at him and replies, "I will be relying on you and Lance Corporal Manahi."

GaistHeidegger
May 20, 2001

"Can you see?"
Antarctica - Ritscher Station Approach

Headway is made back toward the shoreline trajectory once the team has regrouped and taken stock of soldiers and supplies; having stowed chutes and donned snowshoes and skis, the team makes steady progress pressing on—lead by solid, skillful direction. Tempo is kept with nerves on edge, blood pumping within bound and bundled forms as the strike team trudges doggedly onward toward the snowy horizon ahead. For more than twenty minutes, the team treks against the stifling elements.

Freshly fallen snow gutters and swirls, stoked up in whipping waves as strong winds batter and buffet the squad. Maintaining radio silence and biding a quieted advance, the team worked in tandem to avoid detection from any prospective sled or ski patrols—but with the heavy snowfall already swallowing up the trailing tracks of the team itself, such had proven both a blessing and a curse: it would be harder for both sides to follow prospective trails.

When S/Sgt. Thomas and LCpl. Mahani are confident of the depot’s nearing proximity, the team takes to a line along the base of a snowy ridge to prepare for the next advance. S/Sgt. Thomas had worked his way up to the ridge for a better vantage—when something promptly seized his attention. Among the darkness as fierce whipping snow-strewn winds assailed the landscape—enormous silhouettes came to view—twin behemoths whose visage brings the commando’s heart to stop for a perilous moment before swiftly the others bear witness in kind.

Towering at more than eighteen feet at the shoulder, colossal quadrupedal creatures stand in the burgeoning blizzard—frightful monstrosities resembling a nightmarish blend of dinosaur-like heritage and woolly mammoths. Their heads present tangles of horrifically barbed tentacles as long as a man lashing and twisting about, their hides thickly furred with the hint of keratin scales—and astride their backs atop mounted perches sat a man and woman heavily garbed in long black fur-lined coats and some sort of darkly gleaming body armor, their faces obscured behind helmets and masks.

“Hans, Achtung!” Shouts the woman—before a sudden motion swivels a mounted Maschinengewehr 42 smoothly into a firing position as she ratchets it back, her counterpart doing the same. Beneath the pair, the great horrors they ride loose an alien bellow as terror sweeps the ridge; the armored woman immediately opens fire, muzzle flashes lighting up the dark as machine-gun munitions begin spraying along the ridge in a withering barrage of suppressive fire.




When it rains, it pours; you made good on your advance as a team; station patrols are pulled from a deck draw and your very first popped a Jack of Clubs. Ronnie led off a Stealth check for the team, which wasn’t bad—but the patrol managed to explode their active notice check twice in retaliation, spotting the group dead to rights. You have now encountered your first taste of the reality that the German forces in Antarctica are packing much more than conventional means.

Everyone on the team is subject to a Horror test immediately. You’ve encountered a pair of riders in a Kriegsmarine Kolossreiter patrol riding rather terrifying ‘steeds’. Both appear to be wearing some sort of body armor while jockeying swivel-mounted machine guns; they’ve got the high ground (their sizable seats notwithstanding on top of that) but you have the option of hitting the deck under the ridge to take cover.

Presently, it appears the both of them are maneuvering to move away from your team and lay down twin barrages of suppressive fire. They’re about 40’ out from you.

Initiative results: Kriegsmarine Greta KS, Carter KD, Harry 10D, Kriegsmarine Hans 9C, Ted 8H, Séverine 8D, Victoire 6H, Ronnie 4S, Maksim 3C, Dicky 2D.

Kriegsmarine Greta successfully doled out Suppressive Fire affecting Harry, Ted, Séverine, Victoire, Ronnie and Maksim; these individuals will need to make an additional Spirit test on top of the Horror test above. Failing this Spirit test immediately makes you Shaken, rolling a 1 on this Spirit test (regardless of wild die) means you’re actually hit by the machine-gun fire and suffer damage from it.

GaistHeidegger fucked around with this message at 21:32 on Aug 7, 2017

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis
Joe Carter
Bennies 2 Dementia 0

Hearing the sound of machine gun fire, Joe dropped to below the ridge. He readied his rifle and took a position on the ridge, keeping most of his body behind it. Looking out at where the shooting was coming from, he spotted the woolly mammoth beasts. He had trouble making sense of the things. They didn't look right at all, still it didn't prevent him from taking aim at one of them.

<Doc_bubonic> !wild d8
* MadBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for Doc_bubonic and got ( 6 5 ) Results: 6

Getting behind cover, readying rifle and aim at one of the riders (but not the one shooting currently).

M1 8/8

DocBubonic fucked around with this message at 21:09 on Aug 8, 2017

Razeam
Jul 13, 2004

Nya~
Séverine Gascoigne

A sharp breath in and out accompanies her hunkering down in the ridge. "Defensive positions! Fire at will!" she barks out with an ephemeral tremble in her voice.

Should've said I'd be using the Tactician edge if possible! Anyway, reminder that I can hand out one special, sharing-only Benny if someone needs it.
Leadership bonuses for squad within command radius (60 ft.): +1 Toughness, +2 Spirit to recover from Shaken, can hand out my regular Bennies if someone really need it!
Horror check: * MadBot rolled a (1d10+2) with wild die for Razeam and got ( 4 4 ) Results: 4
Spirit test: * MadBot rolled a (1d10) with wild die for Razeam and got ( 8 1 ) Results: 8

Fraction Jackson
Oct 27, 2007

Able to harness the awesome power of fractions
Ronnie

It's easier going, at least at first, than S/Sgt. Thomas had expected. Which is not to say it is easy, just that for the first while, there are no wrinkles, no setbacks. The curtains of wind-blown snow let them stay hidden, even the evidence of their passage gone behind them as the tracks get filled in. They're making good time. Everything is going exactly like the training had said, back when it was Norway they were training for. Antarctica isn't Norway, and that operation had been passed off to the British anyway, but Ronnie figures it's probably close enough. That exact thought is still in his head when he climbs the ridge line for a look and discovers that, to the contrary, there is at least one thing that's different.

Two things, as a matter of fact. Large, crazy-looking things.

His brain almost short-circuits for a second, but he steels himself and the feeling passes. So too does the involuntary, impulsive twitch from being under MG fire. There's nothing to be done about that, not with the height advantage the sentries have. Cover might help some, but they're gonna have to bring those things down, both the rides and the sentries.

"So much for quiet," laments the American, battle excitement building up in his voice. He takes a quick, single-fire snap shot at one of the mounts, feeling the M1941 rock back hard against his shoulder. Then he backtracks down the ridge to get a little extra protection, per the order to take up positions. Once he's braced and in cover he can really give 'em the business. He's looking forward to it. Even if the mission's already found out and gone to poo poo, at least he gets to have a little fun; it's not a fair trade, but he doesn't get a say in it, so why not make the most of it?


[12:12] <FractionJackson> !wild 1d8+2 BRAVE
[12:12] * MadBot rolled a (1d8+2) with wild die for FractionJackson and got ( 8 5 ) Results: 8
[12:12] <FractionJackson> !wild 1d8 no shake
[12:12] * MadBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for FractionJackson and got ( 4 9 ) Results: 9
Dropping down into cover. Single-shot plink at "Hans's" mount:
[12:26] <FractionJackson> !wild 1d8+2 plink
[12:26] * MadBot rolled a (1d8+2) with wild die for FractionJackson and got ( 8 3 ) Results: 8
[12:27] <FractionJackson> !sw 2d8
[12:27] * MadBot rolled a (2d8) for FractionJackson and got ( 4 15 ) Total: 19
[12:27] <FractionJackson> !sw 1d6
[12:27] * MadBot rolled a (1d6) for FractionJackson and got ( 4 ) Total: 4

A Velociraptor!
Aug 20, 2007

Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood

He follows in line, not looking at much except the person in front of him. Not that the strong storm allows for him to see much around anyway. Despite all this being well beyond his training and comfort zone, he keeps pace easily enough even as the cold winters continue to batter him.

As Ronnie scouts slightly ahead of them, Dicky stands shivering and finds himself wishing they come upon this base and make their infiltration into a warmer environment soon. But of course, wishing for something better immediately brings something worse...

He barely has time to make out the monstrous patrol through the storm before the German shouts come and the machine guns open fire. He dives forward into cover from the ridge, swinging the Sten around into both hands. With the enemy fire seemingly directed at the others, he finds he has a good opportunity to rise up slightly take aim and then fire at the closest hideous creature.

<A_Velociraptor> !wild d8+4 (Horror Check)
* MadBot rolled a (1d8+4) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 18 6 ) Results: 18

Will shoot at the closest beastie.

<A_Velociraptor> !wild d8 (Shooting)
* MadBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 1 9 ) Results: 9
<A_Velociraptor> !sw 2d6-1 (Damage)
* MadBot rolled a (2d6-1) for A_Velociraptor and got ( 2 10 ) Total: 11

Mukaikubo
Mar 14, 2006

"You treat her like a lady... and she'll always bring you home."
Sgt. Willis

Of course it goes badly- why would it *not* go badly? Still, he hadn't expected... elephant-cow-things with Germans and machine guns on them. That was a new one by him, and he froze up for juuuust a second- long enough to let the Nazis get the drop on him and everyone else. Bullets start lashing the ridge, and he can't quite get down and in cover fast *enough*; hunching in on himself to make a smaller target of the explosives-laden engineer, he was about to leap for a small rise to shield himself when a bullet spanged off that exact spot. It was enough to freeze him in place just a few seconds longer- but as soon as that few heartbeats passed, Ted threw himself into what cover he could find, getting his submachinegun ready to start firing at... well, probably those big monsters were armored, but the Nazis likely weren't. Picking the more observant of the scouting Nazis, Ted as soon as he hits the ground prone begins wordlessly firing his submachinegun on full automatic at her- filling the air with rather fewer bullets than the MG42s were putting out, and to significantly less effect. Still, it might distract her enough for someone with a better gun and better aim to actually shoot to hit the target.

Passed the horror test, failed the spirit test to not be shaken, passed the spirit test to recover from being shaken. Firing at full ROF and whiffing terribly:


<Mukaikubo> !sw 1d8-2
* MadBot rolled a (1d8-2) for Mukaikubo and got ( 5 ) Total: 3
<Mukaikubo> !sw 1d8-2
* MadBot rolled a (1d8-2) for Mukaikubo and got ( 3 ) Total: 1
<Mukaikubo> !sw 1d8-2
* MadBot rolled a (1d8-2) for Mukaikubo and got ( 1 ) Total: -1
<Mukaikubo> !sw 1d6-2
* MadBot rolled a (1d6-2) for Mukaikubo and got ( 1 ) Total: -1

Mukaikubo fucked around with this message at 17:21 on Aug 13, 2017

Oracle
Oct 9, 2004

Harry


He nods to the woman, hiding a smile. "Yes ma'am."

Then he sees... it. Them. The Nazis riding... something out of the depths. Not natural. Not sea-based. Some kind of taniwha maybe. Tentacles... another monstrous hybrid. Working with the Nazis.
Oracle: !wild 1d8+2
***MadBot rolled a (1d8+2) with wild die for Oracle1 and got ( 4 3 ) Results: 4


He's snapped out of it by the far more prosaic sound of machine gun fire, sliding down the slope lickety split and glancing at Ronnie as he takes a shot.

Oracle: !wild 1d8
***MadBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for Oracle1 and got ( 13 11 ) Results: 13


So much for the quick and quiet infiltration approach. He frowns in thought for a moment as bullets chew up the ridge above him, then nods to himself, muttering, "Distraction," before hoisting himself to his ski-clad feet and beginning to go around the ridge to circle around behind the beasts, moving as fast as he can at a crouch.

Gonna attempt to flank these guys then chuck some grenades at them assuming I can get around them without being spotted in the confusion/commotion.

Fathis Munk
Feb 23, 2013

??? ?
Victoire Doucet, W 4/4, B 2, D 0/5, Shots 6/7 (slugs)

Victoire trudges along with the rest of the column through the deep white snow. She looks around and is unable to make out any defining landmarks, so all there is to do is to continue following along and hoping that the others knew where they were going. As Ronnie walks up the ridge she briefly considers joining him, but figures that there isn't anything more to see up there than down here.

Then the bullets start whipping about, sending tufts of snow flying. Victoire immediately recognizes the characteristic noise of an MG-42 and she carefully crouches up towards the ridge. She peeks over to see what they were dealing with and is immediately forced back into cover by the heavy incoming fire. The glance she took was enough to realize that they were dealing with something weird, another trick up their enemy's sleeve. It didn't really matter, it's not like there was any other choice, as soon as they had jumped out of the plane they all had known that there was only one way to make it, and that way lead through these things. She steels her mind, forces herself to ignore the suppressive fire and the monstrous creatures. Standing up just a little she levels her shotgun at the closes one and pulls the trigger, but the shot goes wide. Cursing she ducks back down.

(18:42:41) FathisMunk: !sw d8+2
(18:42:42) ***MadBot rolled a (1d8+2) for FathisMunk and got ( 2 ) Total: 4
(18:42:55) FathisMunk: wait wild was the one to use
(18:43:01) FathisMunk: !sw d6+2
(18:43:02) ***MadBot rolled a (1d6+2) for FathisMunk and got ( 11 ) Total: 13
(18:43:06) FathisMunk: drat

(18:43:24) FathisMunk: spirit test for supression
(18:43:29) FathisMunk: !wild d8
(18:43:29) ***MadBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for FathisMunk and got ( 4 1 ) Results: 4

(19:37:32) FathisMunk: !wild d10 shooting
(19:37:34) ***MadBot rolled a (1d10) with wild die for FathisMunk and got ( 3 3 ) Results: 3
(19:37:38) FathisMunk: welp

Redeye Flight
Mar 26, 2010

God, I'm so tired. What the hell did I post last night?
Mladyshi Serzhant Maksim Smirnov

Maksim can't help but feeling a little jolly as the group sets off. Yes, the cold is terrible, but it reminds him of winter at home in Rybinsk, struggling home through the howling streets, lights dark, nothing above but stars. He has to bite back a song, and settles for humming to himself as he works his way along on the left flank.

However, his reverie is snapped by a cry from the front in German, and he turns his head to see two Germans riding--something? Bears, if bears were the size of an elephant and had terrible heads. But surely, he thinks, they can die like any--

The ripping noise of an MG42 cuts him off, and bullets kick into the snow. One actually tugs him sideways as it catches through his thick winter gear, and Maksim drops like a rock into the snow, training kicking in, mind emptying of other thoughts. He stares at the tear in his sleeve, checking for blood, unwilling to believe it was just that close.

At about that point, he notices Harry disappear in the other side of the column. His mind takes a moment to process it, before he realizes--Pincer movement. Strike emplacements from sides. He waits for the rest of the column's guns to open up, for the snow to close in, and then he lifts himself shakily to his feet, rebinds his skis, and sets forward, curling out and around. Like hell will a Soviet be shown up in snow! He grins under his facemask, and within moments, the fear has fled his heart, replaced by an eagerness for battle.


Mirroring Harry's movement. Going to stealth around opposite him and hit the Germans from two sides with grenades.

<Shuteye> !wild d8+2
* MadBot rolled a (1d8+2) with wild die for Shuteye and got ( 9 9 ) Results: 9
<Shuteye> Nice, passed that Horror check
<Shuteye> Unless I hosed up the math somehow

<Shuteye> !wild d8
* MadBot rolled a (1d8) with wild die for Shuteye and got ( 1 2 ) Results: 2
<Shuteye> Pffft, but I failed to avoid suppression

<Shuteye> !wild d8+2
* MadBot rolled a (1d8+2) with wild die for Shuteye and got ( 14 7 ) Results: 14
<Shuteye> And I recover the poo poo out of that Shaken

<Shuteye> Hmm
<Shuteye> !wild d6-1 Stealth
* MadBot rolled a (1d6-1) with wild die for Shuteye and got ( 4 2 ) Results: 4

GaistHeidegger
May 20, 2001

"Can you see?"
Antarctica - Ritscher Station Approach

Frigid winds whip relentlessly as great gusts of buffeting snow are displaced and strewn about—all over the crackling thudding din of automatic machine gun fire as muzzle flashes light up the arctic gloom. Snow and ice erupt in billowing tufts across the ridge as suppressive fire is raked before the team, frozen terrain torn into chunks of icy shrapnel as adrenaline surges through the chilled commandos. Nerves are rattled, mettle tested—but in short order, every man and woman on the team holds steady and manages to overcome the daunting barrage.

Hunkering down side by side, Carter takes aim as Séverine calls out to the team, voice carrying against the snap and crack of return fire against the mounted patrol. Firing off an expert shot, Ronnie is certain to have struck the great beast beneath one of the riders—which seems to stagger a step before surging onward, gaining swift and steady ground away from his team. Nearby, Dicky’s weapon cracks as well, also striking the enormous beast—though the round seems to fail to find meaningful purchase against the otherworldly creature’s durable hide.

Breaking out from the ridge, Harry and Maksim fan out carried swiftly upon their skis as Ted rattles off a long burst of automatic weapons fire to cover their flanking maneuver; as the pair surge over the snow and ice, hearts pounding—the mounted man gestures swiftly towards the men maneuvering to flank before swiveling his machine gun towards Harry, swiftest of the pair. Muzzle flashes strobe in the gloom as Harry is assaulted with the withering zip and crack of high caliber rounds whizzing past him and causing frozen tundra to erupt all around him—but the big Maori powers through the barrage, the duo now far removed from their fellows back at the ridge.

By now, the mounted patrol had covered considerable ground—and it was readily apparent they had no intention of staying to fight with the team in the field, their massive mounts thundering effortlessly through deep and treacherous snow.


Carter hunkered down and took aim, Séverine hunkered down but otherwise did not act. Ronnie fired against Hans, who spent a Benny to soak for his mount and achieved a success and a raise, negating two wounds and resolving Ronnie’s shot. Dicky fired at Hans’ mount as well, struck it, but did insufficient damage to deter the beast. Ted rattled off a burst but missed.

Harry set out to try to flank via skis at speed. Victoire fired a shotgun slug but missed. Maksim also set out to flank via skis at speed and endeavored to be stealthy, but was spotted promptly in the effort by Hans. Hans also spotted Harry—and as Harry’s initiative executed before Maksim, he is the recipient of Hans’ machine gun burst. Fortunately for Harry, the Maori is so tough that he wasn’t even Shaken by the incoming fire.

Hans and Greta are both attempting a fighting retreat, it is now clear to the team; they seemingly have no intention of sticking around for the fight if they can help it, and both are ushering their mounts to withdraw at speed as they provide their own covering fire. Hans manages to urge his mount a total of 13—or 65’, and Greta covers 19—or 95’; as should come as little surprise, the snow doesn’t really hinder their rides.

Anyone who hunkered down is now 105’ from Hans and 135’ from Greta, which is also a sufficient distance for the dimness of light + weather to offer hindrance to hitting targets. Apart from range penalties, you’re looking at -2 to hit the riders or their mounts. Nevertheless, the mounts are so large they are also +4 to hit.

Initiative results: Victoire KC, Maksim QD, Ted 10S, Dicky 10H, Carter 10C, Séverine 7S, Harry 5S, Kriegsmarine Hans 4S, Ronnie 4D, Kriegsmarine Greta 2H.

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis
Joe Carter
Bennies 2 Dementia 0

Keeping his focus on the riders, he sees them as they decide to retreat.

"Can't let them get away." Joe mumbles under his breath. He fires at Hans.

Long range shot (-4) + dimness/weather penalty (-2) + aim (+2)

Docbubonic !wild d10-4
MadBot rolled a (1d10-4) with wild die for Docbubonic and got ( 0 1 ) Results: 1

A Velociraptor!
Aug 20, 2007

Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood

Handling the gun with his thick gloves is no easy thing, but thankfully these monsters make for drat big targets and he watches his burst of fire hit it's mark with ease. Sadly the beast seems unfazed by his shot from what he can see before he ducks back down into cover.

He sees Harry and their new Russian fan out to their flanks, directing machine gun fire in their directions. With the shots aimed away from him and the riders looking to make a retreat, Dicky pops up and takes his time in lining up a shot. He switches to single fire and aims true at the male Nazi atop his monstrous steed, despite numerous circumstances making it a truly difficult shot.

<A_Velociraptor> !wild d8-2 (To hit Hans)
* MadBot rolled a (1d8-2) with wild die for A_Velociraptor and got ( 13 1 ) Results: 13

<A_Velociraptor> !sw 2d6-1 (Damage)
* MadBot rolled a (2d6-1) for A_Velociraptor and got ( 4 5 ) Total: 8

Razeam
Jul 13, 2004

Nya~
Séverine Gascoigne

She stands up to fire a single shot at the nearest rider! After her attack, she returns to a crouching position.

* MadBot rolled a (1d6-6) with wild die for Razeam and got ( -1 -1 ) Results: -1

Razeam fucked around with this message at 07:46 on Aug 20, 2017

Redeye Flight
Mar 26, 2010

God, I'm so tired. What the hell did I post last night?
Mladyshi Serzhant Maksim Smirnov

Maksim kicks himself forward on his skis, unlimbering his PPSh as he moves. He lets off a burst at the nearest rider, leaning into the recoil, but the light and the distance work against him, and the shots go wide.

Full-auto fire, three shots, nothing hits. I am, however, now closer to the enemy.

Fraction Jackson
Oct 27, 2007

Able to harness the awesome power of fractions
Ronnie

Even before he sees the beast stagger and hitch in its step, Ronnie knows just from the feel of the shot that he's on target. Even with a good hit, though, his target still seems up be upright and highly mobile. Much more mobile than he prefers at the moment, especially because it is being negatively mobile - that is, away from his big gun.

This Ronnie considers to be a bad problem. The cover from the ridge is nice, but making sure those sentries don't get a chance to report in seems to be a much nicer prospect in S/Sgt. Thomas's mind. He knows the limits of the Johnson MG - at this distance, in this lighting, he knows that he won't hit the broad side of a Nazi monster without sighting in carefully. And with as much distance as the things seemed to be eating up, he is keenly aware that there isn't time for that.

And so he goes over the top. "I'm gonna press, if we don't bring 'em down now we'll never catch the fuckers," he says. He tries to make up some distance, and then brings the gun up to the shoulder, sights quickly, and fires another quick round downfield.


Moving as far forward as possible to get into at least medium range of Hans, and taking a single shot at his mount again. Light/weather penalties are a pain. Should even out to no modifier between range/conditions/size.
[18:57] <FractionJackson> !wild 1d10 plink
[18:57] * MadBot rolled a (1d10) with wild die for FractionJackson and got ( 5 1 ) Results: 5
[18:57] <FractionJackson> !sw 2d8 boom
[18:57] * MadBot rolled a (2d8) for FractionJackson and got ( 2 3 ) Total: 5

Oracle
Oct 9, 2004

Harry

He realizes his cunning plan is not as great as he thought it was. Rather than turn and fight, the behemoths are just ploughing away from the skirmish, no doubt to raise reinforcements. Luckily for him, their radios are just as buggered as theirs, probably. Unlucky for him, he's still a good rugby field's distance away, even accounting for trying to motor on his skis. Their shots go wild, he doesn't even notice them, too much snow kicking up for the wind.
Rolling for distance. Rolling for speeeed...
(5:24:33 PM) Oracle: !sw d6
(5:24:35 PM) ***MadBot rolled a (1d6) for Oracle and got ( 2 ) Total: 2
(5:24:38 PM) Oracle: hahaha gently caress you madbot
(5:24:39 PM) Oracle: gently caress
(5:24:40 PM) Oracle: YOU*
Yup.


He pulls within maybe ninty feet and pulls the pin on a grenade in desperation, using his teeth, all the better to get more distance with, right? Plus his stiffened fingers are wrapped around his ski poles. He tucks one under one arm and heaves...

(6:03:13 PM) Gaist: oracle your throwing is a !wild roll
(6:03:14 PM) Gaist: not !sw
(6:03:18 PM) Gaist: because it does get the wild die
(6:03:24 PM) Oracle: !wild d6-2
(6:03:25 PM) ***MadBot rolled a (1d6-2) with wild die for Oracle and got ( -1 -1 ) Results: -1 BUST!
(6:03:29 PM) Oracle: hahahahahaahahahhaahaha
(6:03:29 PM) FractionJackson: it's a new system for most people and it's usually a while between fights and oh my god
(6:03:34 PM) FractionJackson: probably use a bennie
(6:03:35 PM) FractionJackson: like
(6:03:37 PM) FractionJackson: now
(6:03:37 PM) FractionJackson: lol
(6:03:43 PM) Gaist: oh god I'm so sorry
(6:03:44 PM) Oracle: this is the story of my life dude
(6:03:50 PM) Oracle: my entire roleplaying life
(6:03:54 PM) Oracle: 30+ years
(6:03:57 PM) Gaist: only oracle can get dicebot to spitefully bust both the base roll and the wild die roll
(6:03:59 PM) Gaist: good grief
(6:04:00 PM) FractionJackson: use benny
(6:04:03 PM) Oracle: this poo poo happens with depressing regularity
(6:04:06 PM) FractionJackson: instantly
(6:04:06 PM) FractionJackson: lol
(6:04:08 PM) Oracle: you do it
(6:04:10 PM) Oracle: I'm done rolling
(6:04:21 PM) FractionJackson: I actually lol'd
(6:04:29 PM) FractionJackson: like as in actually audibly laughing irl
(6:04:32 PM) Oracle: yeah yeah
(6:04:34 PM) FractionJackson: but I will do the needful
(6:04:39 PM) Oracle: I just don't even fuckin care anymore
(6:04:39 PM) FractionJackson: !wild 1d6-2
(6:04:40 PM) ***MadBot rolled a (1d6-2) with wild die for FractionJackson and got ( 0 -1 ) Results: 0
(6:04:44 PM) Oracle: its not even surprising
(6:04:47 PM) Oracle: it just is
(6:04:53 PM) FractionJackson: holy poo poo
(6:04:56 PM) FractionJackson: it even followed me
(6:04:56 PM) Oracle: see what I mean
(6:05:02 PM) FractionJackson: because I was rolling for you
(6:05:03 PM) Oracle: this is why my kids refuse to let me touch their dice
(6:05:16 PM) Gaist: good lord
(6:05:22 PM) Oracle: I must've been some kind of total dickbag gambler in a previous life or something
(6:05:24 PM) Gaist: basically the start of The Thing
(6:05:31 PM) FractionJackson: at least, uh
(6:05:32 PM) Gaist: accidentally dropping grenade in the snow
(6:05:41 PM) FractionJackson: I guess using a benny and rerolling gets it off of a bust???
(6:05:45 PM) Oracle: at least I get to go out with a bang
(6:05:55 PM) Gaist: yeah not a bust anymore
(6:05:58 PM) Gaist: so it at least clears you
(6:06:03 PM) Gaist: it just doesn't hit your target
(6:06:09 PM) Gaist: and throws up a ton of snow and terrain


The wind must catch it, or something. It goes wild, explodes, showering him with snow and even a bit of rock. Harry remembers in rugby he was a forward, not a drat hooker, and resolves to stop throwing poo poo.

Fathis Munk
Feb 23, 2013

??? ?
Victoire Doucet, W 4/4, B 2, D 0/5, Shots 4/6 (slugs)

Victoire curses as her shot goes wide and the two nazis start scampering off into the dark. If they made it back to base all of this would become a lot more dangerous suddenly. She tries to think of something witty but trying to move at any kind of speed in the snow, with the heavy bulk of the survival gear and first aid supplies, took all of her concentration. Quickly she realizes that the monsters outpace her by magnitudes and that pursuit was senseless, it was time to just take the shot. She plants her feet in the snow, pumps another round into the barrel and raises the gun.

The Winchester roars as the slug takes flight and Victoire is pretty sure it hits. She grins proudly.


(21:08:20) FathisMunk: !wild d10 shooting
(21:08:21) ***MadBot rolled a (1d10) with wild die for FathisMunk and got ( 15 3 ) Results: 15

(21:09:21) FathisMunk: !sw 2d10 slug damage
(21:09:21) ***MadBot rolled a (2d10) for FathisMunk and got ( 7 7 ) Total: 14
(21:09:30) FathisMunk: !sw 1d6 bonus damage
(21:09:30) ***MadBot rolled a (1d6) for FathisMunk and got ( 5 ) Total: 5

Total damage : 19 :woop:

GaistHeidegger
May 20, 2001

"Can you see?"
Antarctica - Ritscher Station Approach

Pulse racing in tandem with the pounding of her heart, Victoire rides the warmth of adrenaline circulating through her system as she shoulders the butt of her shotgun; with the rhythmic action of the pump a spent shell ejects aside to disappear into the deep snow beneath her—a squeeze of the trigger lurching recoil sharply against her. Scarcely a split second later, the results of the shot are soon evident enough.

Down the field, the nearest of the monstrous creatures suddenly staggers, before its head lolls with marked force—its shaggy white hide darkening in a grisly blossom. Though difficult to see through the snow and darkness, a collapse ruptures on the side of the creature’s skull before the great behemoth sags unceremoniously down into the snow, nearly toppling over altogether.

Astride the now slain monstrosity’s back, the armored rider scrambles as straps snap taut from the suddenly skewed angle of his seat, struggling to right himself as rounds continue to crackle and snap over the gusty arctic winds. Maksim surges a further advance astride his skis as he rattles off a burst of automatic fire—though the rounds seem lost to the snowy gloom. Sighting in, Dicky snaps off a decisive shot at the man met with a satisfying PING! as the rider jerks backwards—only to still seemingly stir, albeit clearly shaken from the impact.

Snow lashes in great undulating waves, cloying numbness creeping into bundled extremities as the exchange of fire continues. Both Carter and Séverine fire their weapons, neither finding their marks—while further ahead, Harry winds up to hurl a grenade only to find it veering wildly off its expected trajectory, vanishing in the deep snow.

Moments later, snow, ice and rocky debris unfurl into the air in a show of chaos—the explosion seemingly drawing the attention of the other rider as she swivels her machine-gun towards the Maori. Heavy automatic fire thuds away as more snow explodes around Harry’s vicinity, once more rattling the man’s steely resolve and leaving him momentarily shaken—though thankfully uninjured.

Still reeling from the hit he’d taken and struggling against the collapsed mount beneath him, the other rider slaps at latches ineffectually in his disorientation. Ronnie, setting his sights on the remaining rider’s mount, fires after the great beast—landing his shot, though seemingly to no appreciable effect; the great monstrosity scarcely slows its stride, its rider’s shouts unintelligible over the wind and weapon fire.


Proceeding on, will push to do so more swiftly in lieu of delayed posts in the future.

Victoire opened this round with a shot and landed her shotgun slug dead to rights for substantial damage—dropping one of the mounts in the process, much to its rider’s chagrin. Maksim advanced, rattling off automatic fire but not landing any hits. Ted was skipped due to inaction. Dicky sighted in a decisive shot to Kriegsmarine Hans astride his now disabled mount, leaving the man Shaken.

Carter fired but missed, as did Séverine. Harry cuffed a grenade toss, sending the ordinance wide and disappearing into the snow, managing to avoid blowing anyone up—himself included, fortunately. Kriesgmarine Hans is unable to take his turn by the time he arrives in initiative, remaining Shaken. Ronnie was pivoted to presumably target Greta’s mount after Hans was taken out, but either way—his damage failed to affect his target.

Kriegsmarine Greta swiveled her MG 42 to rattle off shots at Harry directly, her attention drawn by the grenade going off; one round managed to find its mark for 10 damage, which leaves Harry Shaken, but uninjured due to the big man’s considerable Toughness.

Kriegsmarine Greta’s mount remains uninjured and she has gained substantially more distance from the group; Kriegsmarine Hans’ mount has left him immobile, but the man is still armored and has a mounted (if currently a bit skewed) heavy machine-gun at his disposal, with pertinent caution advised.

Initiative Results: Ted AD, Séverine QC, Dicky JS, Maksim 10S, Kriegsmarine Hans 7S, Carter 7H, Victoire 7C, Ronnie 6S, Kriegsmarine Greta 5C, Harry 2H

Razeam
Jul 13, 2004

Nya~
Séverine Gascoigne

Séverine glances between their adversaries. She marches forward with her unit and then bellows from cover, "Target the toppled Nazi!"

Moving to stick with the squad and stay in cover if possible.

A Velociraptor!
Aug 20, 2007

Richard 'Dicky' Barton-Morewood

Dicky watches in satisfaction as his shot homes in on his target and sends the Nazi toppling to the ground. Unfortunately, it hasn't put the man down for good but it's better than nothing and should give him enough time to close the distance.

Seeing Séverine start to march onward, he too follows close by. He keeps in cover as best he can to avoid any machine gun fire but moves as quickly as the snow underfoot allows.

Attempting to the close the gap on myself and Hans.

DocBubonic
Mar 11, 2003

Tempora mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis
Joe Carter
Bennies 2 Dementia 0

As he watches several others begin to move up, Carter decides to provide covering fire. He fires off several rounds at the downed German.

<El_Bubonico_MD> !wild d10-6 (-4 for distance, -2 for visibility.
* MadBot rolled a (1d10-6) with wild die for El_Bubonico_MD and got ( 11 -3 ) Results: 11

Damage:
Doc_bubonic> !roll 2d6+4
* MadBot rolled 2d6+4 for Doc_bubonic and got 12

DocBubonic fucked around with this message at 20:00 on Sep 28, 2017

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Redeye Flight
Mar 26, 2010

God, I'm so tired. What the hell did I post last night?
Mladyshi Serzhant Maksim Smirnov

The speed of the beastly mount is unbelievable. Maksim takes a brief moment to realize that, even at full speed on his skis, he stands no chance of keeping up with the fleeing fascist.

So, he takes the other option. He pulls up to a stop, wedges his skis, and swings his PPsH around. He fires a chattering burst from the hip, shouting into the storm.

"COME ON, FASCIST, WHERE IS FIRE? STAY A WHILE WITH US!"

[21:39] <Rdeye> !wild 3d8+1
[21:39] * MadBot rolled a (3d8+1) with wild die for Rdeye and got ( 8 2 2 4 ) Results: 8 2 4
[21:39] <%FractionJackson> ...lol
[21:39] <Rdeye> Fffff

[21:39] <Rdeye> !roll 2d6
[21:39] * MadBot rolled 2d6 for Rdeye and got 7
[21:39] <Rdeye> !roll 2d6
[21:39] * MadBot rolled 2d6 for Rdeye and got 12
[21:40] <Rdeye> Oh nice


All the numbers come together for a +1 to hit. Two hits on Greta's mount--one for 7, the other for 12!

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