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Antivehicular
Dec 30, 2011


I wanna sing one for the cars
That are right now headed silent down the highway
And it's dark and there is nobody driving And something has got to give


Cool 0 | Hard +1 | Hot +2 | Sharp +1 | Weird -1
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1+1/5 | 1-Armor | 1-Barter | Rally to the Cause: 1 hold remaining

Okay, okay. Maybe we're all going to live through this. I've got maintenance costs coming up -- going to have to shake some of these do-gooders down for jingle for generator upkeep -- but we're getting through. For now.

It is not good to be the boss. But, for now, it's okay.

End of session stuff:

Zero, go ahead and take +1 Hx -- catching Armstrong on the radio be a little on edge was probably a novel experience.

Spending 1 hold on Rally to the Cause to get some barter for lifestyle/station upkeep.

Start of next session, to get the bookkeeping out of the way:

Spending 1 barter on lifestyle, plus 1 barter on station upkeep. This will leave me with 1 or 0, depending on how the Rally fundraising went.

Rolled an 8 on Discord for Breaking Now, so two questions. Let's catch up with my informants! Where are Thornboy and Tarpaulin, and what have they been up to? Will also mark XP for rolling Sharp, unless we change highlights before then.

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PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Session 2
A new day dawns across Rinpurt Valley, bringing with it a strengthening Endsong. Animals and other intelligent creatures stay inside, for the distant shrieks and wails of the Long-Gone can only mean one thing: Death walks among us.


Corvi
You were only going to pass through Woodhold on the way to the Tallboys when you saw things of interest. A building wall, partially collapsed. Two dead Spawn of Shahmaran, one ripped apart by scores of bullets, the other with jaws partially crushed. When you stop to investigate, the people are whispering of a Child of Titan, a harbinger of Doom. They are reluctant to answer questions, committing only to an unspecified trouble, one that Lord Dremmer dealt with nicely.

You’re working on the grogslinger Bake, who at least seems agreeable to having the deetz bribed from him, when the grogflop’s doorway darkens. Two big fuckers dressed in hides wearing deerskull helms scan the crowd and settle on you. They approach cautiously, but with purpose. “Oi bonewitch, Lord Dremmer doesn’t like it when outlanders belly up in his bidness. Since its you, we’re to escort you out instead of the usual. Savvy?”


Melody
The Good News: you’re out. The Bad News: Armstrong.

Sorry, sorry. The actual bad news is that you didn’t get out clean, they’ve been dogging you for the last day. With the twin landmarks of The Roost and E’kidnaw you should have been able to find your way out of the Bonefield much easier than you did, but the baying of hounds and shrieks of the dead worked against you. But at last you find yourself on a hill overlooking the Central Road, running east-west through the middle of the valley. To The Works. Its not empty, you can see Thornboy with that odd land-chair and his merry band of looters/scavengers, wagons piled high with plunder.

You’ve seen Thornboy out at Swamp Ash Radio once or twice, shooting the poo poo and repping the Iron Choir . Armstrong was cool with him, what was your impression? Eitherways, a few of the wagon-haulers have waved at you and you hear the hounds getting louder behind you. Guess its decision time.


SKADI
If you’re going to have to shelter in a cave, at least this one is fairly nice. The northern hills are full of them, obviously parts of a subterranean complex. Its been looted already of course, but its decent sized and still has a great metal door on stiff hinges. Safe enough to give you the time needed to let the HEPHAESTUS auto-repair kit do its work, and to read your dispatches.

Most of them detail the gains made by your fellows in other sectors, looks like a stable beachhead has been achieved in NIFLHEIM. One is marked priority for TARTARUS and its surrounding sectors:

VALKYRIE posted:

Warning: Local lore is replete with tales of a large humanoid creature Titan [designation TITAN] that provoked the gods into destroying him and the surrounding landscape [most likely JOTUNN attacks]. These legends lend a negative aspect to the walking suits, caution is advised when attempting non-combat contact with Revenants while in-frame.

The final is encrypted with your personal cypher, countersign by ASGARD themselves

ASGARD posted:

SKADI EYES ONLY CLEARANCE LEVEL LOKI
Chosen, I salute your efforts so far. However unfortunately I must ask you to return to readiness as soon as repairs are completed. Three hours ago Echo/Drop Station CHARON received a tight-band transmission originating in Sector TARTARUS. After registering a ODIN clearance, CHARON went dark. All attempts to raise CHARON and Chosen NJORD have failed. You are to determine the source of the signal and disable it with extreme sanction. Coordinates to follow
The coordinates are for the central plains of the valley, near the large refinery-town you saw on your initial scouting.


Spec. Lombardi
You have to hand it to this Dremmer man, he certainly kicks it old-school. His manorhouse within the woods fenced in by the that huge-rear end old building is at odds with the concrete-and-steel aesthetic of the rest of Woodhold, but its a drat sight prettier. L’nai has tried to coach you the best she can for this meeting, how he respect civility, good taste, and quick wit.

And now you’re having breakfast with him, at a big wooden table loaded with meat and vegetables. A few servants swish about doing servant things, and two toughs in fancy overcoats stand at attention by the door. And even though they took your rifle and sidearm at the entrance, there’s enough sharp cutlery and decorative swords around that its obvious you’re not being treated as a threat.

“So Ms… Lombardi is it? I do hope you’re enjoying the meal, but unfortunately I do have to add some business to this social call. As it seems that we are neighbors of a sort, what exactly is your relationship with the Tallboys? Some of my more superstitious subjects say that you are the Queen of the Spectres, spying on us before unleashing the ghosts of the past upon Woodhold. Care to put their fears to rest?”


Zero
Man, you’re pretty sure the shitheaps they call ‘roads’ in the Murk have gotten worse since the last time you were down here. The junkwagon is now carrying its weight in mud and poo poo and strangle-vines, but at last you make it to Swamp Ash Radio. And there’s a fair amount of activity outside. There’s a double-handful of folks in the unofficial scavvy uniform (random poo poo patched together randomly) clearing out some undergrowth around the building, and there’s even a couple of the Deetwenti jokers wandering about.

One of them ambles toward you, the challenge on his lips silenced by the bullet ventilating his helmet and skull. And then the air is full of gunfire and screaming, and a hot twisty smell. There’s a mad scramble for cover as the treeline continues to spit death at the radio station.


Armstrong
Your old man used to say that ‘idle hands are the Devil’s playthings’. Well, whateverthefuck a Devil is aside, you’ve definately not been idle. Seems like every scav-crew has sent you at least a few hands to help, as well as a fair amount of genny-juice. Vision himself has come with a squad of holy warriors and a big sack of his weird dice. Normally annoying, but their cast in lead and scavs trade for lead at a premium. You might even come out of this ahead, if you survive that is.

Goldie’s trying to help organize, giving you time to keep up with broadcasts. Seems Thornboy and his crew scored big in the ruins of Folly, and are on the way to The Works with a metric poo poo-ton of salvage. Unfortunately Littlebit stopped by Tarpaulin’s shack and found the door busted in, blood on the walls. No body, but somebody got hosed up in his corner of the Murk

You’re just sitting down to you first meal in probably a day, things finally calming down enough to breath a bit, when the glass in your office window is shattered by gunfire. The shutter-blinds catch the glass and the bullets, but are you hallucinating or is the metal melting where the bullets have lodged?
(Gain 2-barter from Rally for the Cause)

What do Y’all Do?
===
Don’t forget to pay for your lifestyle or let me know if you can’t

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'



This food is actually...really good. I'm trying to relax, stay calm, not let my instincts go nuts while disarmed and surrounded by possible threats, but...it's tough. And at the same time, I really need to relax. Can't keep going at 100% all the time. Nobody can. "Dremmer, " I start in, "this is delicious; thank you." I cut off a piece of the breakfast steak - it reminds me of venison, but not exactly. As I chew on the meat, I chew on his words. Swallow, and reply. "So, what you call the Tallboys is the visible part of what I call the Facility." And I explain to Dremmer - about waking up there, about how the defenses don't really react to me but I can't make it safe for anyone else, how I am only slightly less surprised by SKADI than they are, and possibly most importantly, "Dremmer, I can't remember poo poo about what things were like Before or even really who the hell I am."

I stop, briefly, and eat another bite. That's everything that's been bottled up since I got here. "Woodhold is where I found myself after wandering around, and honestly, it's the closest thing I have to a place to live, now. The Facility is there, yes, but it's just a pile of mysteries to me. I'm sure I will return to it, but the information I need is only going to be out here, in the rest of the world." Another pause. "I'm not going to lie to you and your people, Dremmer, and say I'm just like you, because I'm not. But I'm human all the same." I let him think on what he's heard.

No Jingle. Gonna have to work a gig, probably on Dremmer's behalf.

Captain Foo fucked around with this message at 15:29 on Jan 25, 2018

Tardzilla
Aug 31, 2006


Hard +1 | Cool +1 | Hot +2 | Sharp +1 | Weird -2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

Spending 1 barter on lifestyle!

Well, this could've gone much better. At least I'm free, but that won't mean much if I'm caught again, and if that happens... well, I don't see myself escaping a second time, that's for sure. I need to get myself to safety, fast, before they catch up to me.

...And it looks like my safety has arrived. I don't know much about him, but the few times I've seen him, he didn't seem like that bad of a guy, and Armstrong seems to like him, and if Armstrong likes him, then so do I. He's usually a good judge of character. Usually. I don't know how willing Thornboy'll be to help me, but it's not like I have that many options right now.

I hurry over to them, "Thornboy!" I yell out, trying to get his attention, "Listen, I can't explain right now, but I need a place to hide, quickly!"

Tardzilla fucked around with this message at 00:24 on Jan 27, 2018

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.


Cool=0 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp-1 Weird+1 0:00 | 2-Armor | XP 4/5 | 1-Barter

I snort. "Fine. If you're chatty. I don't want a boring walk. I'm just trying to find something that was skulking about my boneyard so I'm just minding my business. A big techy metal beast." I motion for them to lead the way and start talking.

Manipulate. I offer to leave but I want them to tell me any rumors or facts they have about the mecha.

Roland Jones
Aug 18, 2011

by Nyc_Tattoo

Cool +1 | Hard +3 | Hot -1 | Sharp +1 | Weird 0
0:00 | 2-Armor | XP ●●○○○» | 1-Barter


I'm already expecting and preparing to have to slam the Deetwenti's head into the Junkwagon to make a point when a bullet hollows him out instead. Immediately, I drop behind the vehicle, putting it between me and where the bullets are coming from. poo poo, that was fast; if I had gotten here any later I would have probably been attacked on the way.

Staying behind the Junkwagon for cover, I look up at the driver's side mirror, moving the open door to pan the view around, then glance towards the treeline by looking under the truck instead of over it, trying to get a view of where exactly the attackers are without sticking my head out and meeting the same fate as my friend over there. It's not the best view, but it's better than getting shot at before I know where to shoot back. I also take a look towards Swamp Ash Radio and where all the others are being shot at, looking for the clearest route in; the bunker's a better source of protection for a gunfight than Dakota's lovely old truck.

2d6+1 Read a sitch = (6+3)+1 = 10. Questions:
  • What's my enemy's true position?
  • Where's my best way into the bunker?
  • What should I be on the lookout for?
Spending 1 Barter on lifestyle, have 1 remaining.

Roland Jones fucked around with this message at 15:09 on Jan 27, 2018

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.

Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-2 | 0:00 Harm | 6:00 Food | Hunger ○○○ | 2-Armor | XP ●●○○○» | 0-Barter
Power+3 Agility+2 Massive=2 | 0:00 Damage | 3:00 Charge | 6:00 Ammo


The information about local legends would have been useful earlier, but changes little. Still, I suspect I am not done with the denizens of Woodhold.

But that matter is for another day. ASGARD has given me a directive, and a troubling one. I knew there would be other chosen, but one so close? And already in difficulty. That gives me some pride by comparison, but greater concern. There is much about Midgard that is mysterious on its own. Adding more is the last thing we need.

The ODIN level transmission from the ground is the most confusing aspect. Such a thing should only originate within ASGARD. How could another chosen have gained codes at that level? It must have been the chosen... any other possibility is impossible. Isn't it?

It's not an enigma to be solved by contemplation. As soon as the HEPHAESTUS kit finishes its work, I'm on the move. I push the walking suit to its top speed, and it begins to eat up the distance. I make sure follow the ground, avoid exposing myself. Whatever is waiting for me at the coordinates, I don't want it to have a clean shot at me before I see it. That uses up energy and there''s naught I can do about the trail I'm leaving, but for the moment, the greater danger is likely ahead of me.

@SKADI (Gorbash): 2d6+2 Covering Ground = (2+5)+2 = 9
Do not mark a charge countdown segment. Otherwise, you must mark 1.
• You cover the ground very quickly: as a vehicle with speed equal to its agility. Otherwise, you cover it only at human running speed.
You avoid impact with the ground or obstacles. Otherwise, your passage is noisy and you leave an unmistakeable trail of battered scenery.
• You keep to the available cover. Otherwise you expose yourself to enemy attention and fire.

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Corvi
The Huntsmen relax subtlety when you agree to clear out without a fuss, although it seems they want to make sure you leave before dishing. When you get to the Cruzer the older Huntsman jerks his chin back towards Woodhold, dismissing the younger. He then pulls a dogend out of a pouch and lights it. “Now you won’t remember me bonewitch, but my brother and I worked your Lord’s camp back in the day. So I’m… sympathetic to you and yours but Lord Dremmer lost his mother and his health to Vishvarupa’s rampage, and he blames Titan. So whenever any of His Children come around, we go hunting. The other day, a warparty of my brother-hunters came across a Child in the north wood. It killed them, then killed the Spawn threatening the area before Lord Dremmer told it off.”

He throws the smoke down and crushes it under his heel. “This weird woman the local weaver adopted seemed to know the Child. Lord Dremmer will be sending her north to deal with something, maybe you can keep her company. You’ll know her by the saint’s armor she wears.” He gives you the side-eye. “Just try not to be seen around here for a bit, poo poo’s a bit hosed and Lord Dremmer’s on edge.”

The Huntsman takes his leave. In the distance, you hear the faint rhythmic pounding of metal.


Melody
Thornboy’s greeting falters when your words reach him, confusion clouding his expresion. But you don’t live the life of a scaver for this long without thinking fast. A low whistle and a hand motion causes two of his wagon-tenders to wave you over while sliding back a panel on the bottom of their wagon. One helps you up into the hidden compartment and the other spritzes you with the contents of a grubby blue plastic bottle. Hmmm, pine. The convoy takes off again, the ox-bikes quickly filling your hidey-hole with fumes. The wagon-folks start a road-song, a decent acapella rendition of CrazyTrain.

It doesn’t last long, a deeper engine grows louder before the convoy halts again. You hear the sound of Axecutioner’s voice, angry against Thornboy’s conciliatory tone. Then a gunshot, and a yell of pain. Axecutioner again, his voice cutting through the engine noise and the metal walls of your chamber. “Now I don’t suggest anyone else try to run. And don’t Brother me Thornboy, I know where your true loyalties lay. So who’s going to earn a spot on the winning side by telling me where the song-bitch went?”


SKADI
The repair kit has done its job well, Heracles responds well as you make your way across the valley. As you draw closer to the central landing strips a few klicks from the target zone, your HUD starts throwing up low-level warnings. There’s much less cover now, and there is a cluster of vehicles before you that have a good view of the area. Although from the weapons indicators, they may be distracting themselves from noticing you. Some sort of local disagreement, as to be expected from Revenants. Easily avoided with a bit of caution.

Except as you pause to take stock of the situation, a higher-level alert sounds. An OLYMPUS IFF signal, weak but in the immediate vicinity. One of the rebuilt cargo-carriers glows amber in your HUD and is tagged: RAGNAROK/DESIGNATION: REDACTED.
(Your Cover Ground roll means you can keep going to The Works without issue if you’d like)


Spec. Lombardi
Dremmer listens to your tale intently, before dissolving into laughter. After a few moments he regains his composure and takes a drink of his milk. “My apologies Miss Lombardi, but I argued at great length with my grandpapi about whether or not the Tallboys were haunted, and it seems the old bastard was right. After a fashion, at least. So while you are not the Queen of the Spectres, you are at least their steward. And we have avoided the Tallboys for generations, so I have no issue with continuing to do so. With an eye towards future co-operation if your people do awaken.”

He motions and a servant steps forward and presents you with a tattered piece of cloth. It looks alot like your unit patch, but obviously hand-sewn. “And as a show of good faith, I am willing to allow you to stay in Woodhold. And though she wouldn’t want to admit it feeding two mouths has strained L’nai’s fortunes, so I am willing to offer you compensation for services performed.” He nods to the fabric. “That was taken off a breaker that was trying to gently caress my well. It took a bit, but when he broke he gave up his clan. They have a bolthole in the hills north of here, I would like you to go and deal with them. Permanently.”
(Dremmer is happy to support you if you go gently caress some dudes up.)


Zero
Luckily for you the mirror is a wide-angle, giving you a decent view of the battlefield. The fuckers shooting you are a few yards inside the treeline, concentrated in a handfull of fox-hole type structures. Their volume of fire is impressive, you’re pretty sure they have some sort of shooter-rotation going on. They’re also using a fair amount of incendiary ammo, a few of the scavvies are screaming and trying to put out burning clothes. As hardened as your armor is, you don’t want to have to make an open dash for the door.

But maybe you don’t. The ‘courtyard’ of the bunker is fairly flat and graveled, and the junkwagon is reasonably light unloaded. Rolling it from here to the door for mobile cover might even let you help some of the others out here make it inside too.
(The attackers are a medium gang (3-harm 2-armor[from cover]. Their attacks are messy due to incendiary rounds. Staying behind the junkwagon as you roll it to the door will keep you safe, an Act Under Fire will let you help others make it to safety too)

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'



I take the offered scrap and peer at it. "Hm;" it's curious. Not quite a match for mine, but much closer than I would have expected. "Is this the symbol for all the breakers, Dremmer?" It doesn't really matter, but it'd be interesting to see how much he knows about the surrounding area. He's a pretty good leader in this environment, I have to admit, so he'll probably have some idea. "Regardless, I'd be happy to clear them out for you. Got a sense of how many are holed up there?" It's time to do something I'm actually good at around here - soldiering. And I'd bet I'll find some useful information up in the bolthole, based on this insignia. I look back and forth between my arm patch and the scrap a few times.

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.

Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-2 | 0:00 Harm | 6:00 Food | Hunger ○○○ | 2-Armor | XP ●●●○○» | 0-Barter
Power+3 Agility+2 Massive=2 | 0:00 Damage | 3:00 Charge | 6:00 Ammo


My intention was to bypass this convoy, but the notification changes my mind. That these Revenants are near the vicinity of where NORN went dark and hauling something putting off an OLYMPOS IFF - too serendipitous to ignore. If it proves to be nothing, I will not have lost much time. But better to know that now, rather than have to chase them down later. I alter course towards the vehicles, looking to close the distance quickly, the autocannon at the ready.

@SKADI (Gorbash): 2d6+1 Read a Sitch = (4+4)+1 = 9
• Which enemy is the biggest threat?

Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 03:52 on Feb 1, 2018

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.


Cool=0 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp-1 Weird+1 0:00 | 2-Armor | XP 4/5 | 1-Barter

"Favors for favors. Being scarce was what I was always good at anyway." I nod a farewell to the huntsman. These agreeable people are preferred company. But it was a long way to making everyone look down at the ground instead of down on my head.

I get in the cruzer and peel off towards the noise. With any luck that's the metal beast.

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Corvi
You head out in the direction of the noise, and you quickly find the trail of something large moving south through the valley. Kicked-up dirt, knocked over trees, and the occasional hole where a large foot has found a weak spot in the ground. But try as you might you can’t seem to catch up to it, this beast is fast.

And then the sound of the beast’s movement stops. You can still see signs of its passage, but its not moving any more. You’re nearly to the Bonefields, only the flatlands of the Center Road
Between you and your turf. And now that the thumping of metal isn’t in your ears, you can hear the sound of a gunshot, and yelling. As you clear a partially fallen tower, you can see a scrapper-convoy on the Road, held up by members of the Iron Choir (the paintings on the sides of their vehicles is distinctive). And it looks like the beast trail is heading towards them.


SKADI
As you scan the scene before you, Heracles’ AI does its job. Threat assessments flash across your HUD, coloring the area a rainbow. The Revenants tending to the crude ragg-topped chopped-trucks full of scrap are armed, but with crude small arms and melee weapons. The group in the garishly painted vehicles accosting them also have small arms, but of a better quality and higher caliber. And their leader, yelling from the cockpit door of his jacked-up people-mover, holds a cut-down large-bore rifle in one hand and is waving a large axe threateningly with the other. Oddly, you pick up energy readings from the axe, almost like it has a small powerpack attached.
(Axecutioner and his gang(small 3-harm 1-armor) are the biggest threat. The man himself has some sort of hi-tech axe too)


Spec. Lombardi
Dremmer wobbles his hands in equivocation. “Most like to dress in disguise, but I do think this saint’s medallion is important to them. It gets sprayed when they want to claim some bit of fuckery. And he said it would be no more than a double-hand of his fellow breakers, they don’t like to move in big bunches. They know my boys are beast-smart, and that too many would be noticed right-quick.” He waves and the servant hands you a yellowing bus schedule, on the back of which is a rough map. You see the Facility, and Woodhold, and a few of the landmarks in the northern hills. An area is circled in red. “That should get you where you need to be. Wasn’t sure if spectres were wood-wise, and I’d hate for you to fall astray.”

The scrap Dremmer gave you is fairly similar to your unit patch, but a closer look reveals differences that aren't just down to material and technique. The gauntlet with its warding palm on your is a clenched fist on the breakers. The cowled and armored knight takes on a much more demonic mien, and the seven stars that stand for... something are now the clawpoints of some background beast.

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'



I find myself chuckling at Dremmer. "Would you believe me if I told you that I can't remember whether or not I'm wood-wise?" That being said, I have a sudden realization, and I ask one of the guards - Rench, I think his name was - to bring over one of my weapons. He can hold the magazine, if he wants, I just want to point something out. And I do, finding the three-arrowed logo engraved on the side. "This symbol," I say, "marks my weapons as Bear Eater." I think. That doesn't really sound quite right, but it's close enough, and I think Dremmer will appreciate it. "So maybe? I'll let you know." A genuine smile breaks out across my face. "I'll handle this for you and Woodhold," I say, gathering the bits and scraps he's shown me, and collecting the rest of my things from Rench and the others. "And thank you again for the meal. See you soon, Dremmer."

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.


Cool=0 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp-1 Weird+1 0:00 | 2-Armor | XP 4/5 | 1-Barter

My prey hunts. I punch it. If my timing is good I can assert my dominion and extort some grateful scrappers at the same time.

Fail read a sitch. What's the biggest threat.

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Corvi
As many guns as the Choir-folk and scavs have, your prey has what looks like something made by welding six gently caress-off rifles together. Cruzer’s sheet metal and your own protections can handle some small-arms fire, but not a Titan-damned hell-cannon. And its the focus on the massive weapon that’s your downfall. Distracted, you don’t notice the two bike-mounted outriders cutting you off until you’re upon them. One goes under Cruzer’s wheels, and something gets jammed up ‘cause you lose steering. The world is dominated by the sounds of tortured metal as you bounce off debris and stray walls before you spin out and come to a rest rear end-backwards on the final slope down to the Center Road.

All eyes focus on you, and most of the guns track with them...
[i](SKADI is the biggest threat. Something is wrong with your vehicle, if you want to get it going again you’ll need an Act Under Fire. People are also going to start shooting you soon.)



Spec. Lombardi
You head out of Dremmer’s manor, and Rench leads you through the private forest within Woodhold’s walls. Its peaceful as gently caress, you almost forget that you’re in some sort of insane post-apocalyptic nightmare. Almost. As you clear the north gate, the older man catches your eye. “I don’t like people. But I think I might like you. So watch for Tommiboy. He’s a fuckin moron, but a fuckin moron that has mean friends.”

The hills rise gently north of Woodhold, and you do have some knowledge of the area due to your post-awakening wandering. While vague and out of scale, the map has several easily recognized landmarks and its about an hour later you find yourself looking at your destination across a clearing of broken pavement

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.

Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-2 | 0:00 Harm | 6:00 Food | Hunger ○○○ | 2-Armor | XP ●●●○○» | 0-Barter
Power+3 Agility+2 Massive=2 | 0:00 Damage | 3:00 Charge | 9:00 Ammo


Clearly these are two factions of Revenants, and the ones in the garish vehicles are most likely raiders of some kind. The convoy isn't much a threat to me on its own, and may well count it lucky to lose only the one cargo-carrier in exchange for the elimination of their persecutors.

The distraction of the new arrival provides an opportunity to achieve that to good to ignore. As they turn to consider it, I bring the Heracles to full combat power and level my autocannon. As I lay down fire, I maneuver closer to the target carrier. I need it intact, so best to keep the enemy away from it. Then I can take control of it for myself.

[i]@SKADI (Gorbash): 2d6+3 Charge up suit = (5+5)+3 = 13
@SKADI (Gorbash): 2d6+2 = (3+1)+2 = 6 Seize the MacGuffin by force (6-harm far area messy)
Choosing: • You take definite and undeniable control of it.

Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 17:01 on Feb 9, 2018

Tardzilla
Aug 31, 2006


Hard +1 | Cool +1 | Hot +2 | Sharp +1 | Weird -2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 2/5 | 1-barter

It sounds like all hell has broken loose up there. First, there was the gunshot, and now there's the sound of something very large, and very angry, unleashing a rain of bullets. I peak up from my hidey-hole, moving the cover slightly up, so I could see what's going on outside, and what I see... surprises even me. I've witnessed a lot of strange things in this world, but I don't think I've ever seen a giant metal monster like that before. Thankfully, it looks like it's going after the Axecutioner's group, which might by us enough time to get away... as long as we don't get caught in the crossfire, anyways.

I quickly search for a way we could escape, while still keeping myself hidden. I could slip away in the chaos, but I'd feel bad for leaving Thornboy and all the others after all they did to help me, and the last thing I want to do now is to abandon them.

quote:

@Melody (Hugzilla): 2d6+1 Read a Sitch = (2+3)+1 = 6
- Where's my best escape route?

Roland Jones
Aug 18, 2011

by Nyc_Tattoo

Cool +1 | Hard +3 | Hot -1 | Sharp +1 | Weird 0
0:00 | 2-Armor | XP ●●●○○» | 1-Barter


Incendiary ammo. A lot of incendiary ammo. Whoever is launching this attack is both well-equipped, and really, really wants to take this place; that's a lot of rare ammunition they're using here. I'd wonder why, but that's not important right now.

I reach into the Junkwagon and put it in neutral, then start rolling it forward as I move closer to the bunker; it's going to get shot to hell and back, but better it than me. As I move, I try to get the attention of my fellow mercs to get the ones still capable of moving to join me so fewer of them get shot and they can help me move this faster. Fewer heads would mean the spoils get split fewer ways, but no one gets paid if we fail, and even the Deetwenti idiots can shoot a gun. Or at least distract the attackers for a moment.

As I move, I realize that I'm currently doing the job I came here for for free, since the attackers arrived before I could work out a deal. Frustrating. I'm not going to let myself get shot out of spite though; I'll have to work something out with Armstrong when this is over.

Act Under Fire, +1 for acting on Read a Sitch answer = (6+1)+2 = 9
Marking XP for rolling +Cool.

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Melody
While it is indeed some sort of epic poo poo-show outside, its also a fairly static one. Both the insane driver and the metal man are on the north side of the caravan, and the focus is on Axecutioner’s bois to the west. With a bit of luck, someone could slip out the south side and head east a bit. At least long enough to find real cover.

You hide-hole contains a few other items, and as you you shift around in order to get a better look outside, you feel something poke into your back. Then there’s a sound of metal on metal, and then you feel stabbing pain as a serious of needle-jabs march up your spine and then something is pulled tight to you back. And just as that pain fades, something settles on the crown of your head and jams more needles into your skull. And just as your panic reaches a peak-

Calm. Of a sort. You’re still in pain and the ol’ fight-or-flight is kicking in, but its like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Like you’ve always lived in a crowded room but now you’re in a peaceful garden.
(Take 1-harm. You are also now Weird-nil)


SKADI
You march towards the IFF-containing caravan, hosing down the ‘bandits’ as you move. The cover of their vehicles gives them time enough to return fire, but its not enough to save them. The leader’s war-wagon lasts the longest, but eventually its tires explode, sending it end-over-end. More warning indicators light up, your stabilizers have taken some damage.
(The Choirbois take 6-harm, which means vehicle destruction and full blow-through vs 1-armor. Some survive, but the gang is broken. SKADI takes 4-harm vs 2-armor, so minor damage - you can only move at walking speed.)

But you make it to your target, abandoned by its drivers. Its too big to carry, but moving it shouldn’t be an issue. A motion indicator draws your attention: its seems the bandit leader survived. He’s dragged his bloody and broken body up on top of his flipped vehicle, axe in hand. But he’s holding it oddly, the head against his stomach and the handle angled into the air. He screams something at you and begins to move his hands across the weapon and- the sound. THE SOUND. Stormclouds crash above and lightning crashes behind him. Your power-plant screams a warning at you as suddenly your psi-dampening rig is suddenly using 300% of its standard power consumption. A threat indicator fills your screen: THREAT CLASS SVARTALFAR
(Everyone in the area not in a psi-rig, which is Corvi and NPCs, takes psi-harm)


Zero
You slowly move the junkwagon through the courtyard, picking up speed as more and more folks take cover behind it. Most of those that were outside make it to the cover of the bunker entrance, but you truck pays the price. It grinds to a halt cock-eyed as something in the suspension gives way, and you can smell the upholstery burning.
(You are safe inside the bunker. The junkwagon isn’t going anywhere without serious repair.)

The general panic dies down as the concrete walls of the bunker offer protection from the bulletstorm outside. Wounds are quickly covered, burning clothes cut away, and weapons readied. You realize the scavs and paladins are looking to you for orders. One of the Detwentis, a scarred woman whose helmet lies smoldering in the corner catches your ‘eye’ and racks her AK. “Sir Alice and her paladins, and assorted others that answered the Truthspeaker’s call, at your service. While you and my order have had their differences, I acknowledge your greater skill at dealing with wholesale destruction. Our weapons are yours!”
(You have a small 3-harm gang at your command. You currently have building-armor, if you move out it has 2-armor naturally)

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'



"Tommiboy and I have already met, Rench," I say with a smirk and a wink. "But it's good to know that idiot's got friends." And then, shortly thereafter, I reach the bunker. Tactics present themselves quickly. If I can get them to come out, I can thin them the gently caress out real quick. I don't want to go in there blind, that's just asking for trouble. I should have tried to find some incendiaries, but that's out of the question, now. Hopefully nobody runs out of the bunker while I'm setting this up, but here's the plan. I've got this patch which they should be interested in. If I lay that out and bang their door, they should come out for an assault - but a good bunker is a good chokepoint, too.

So I set up the patch and get myself a bit of a cover spot, and then find some rocks and pavement fragments and start chucking them at their door, which reverberates more than it seems like it should. And I ready my rifle. Come out and play.

2-Armor | 3-harm close/far loud autofire
Bait a Trap: 2d6+3 12
You draw your prey all the way into the trap.
You don’t expose yourself to extra risk.

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.

Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-2 | 0:00 Harm | 6:00 Food | Hunger ○○○ | 2-Armor | XP ●●●○○» | 0-Barter
Power+3 Agility+2 Massive=2 | 0:00 Damage | 3:00 Charge | 9:00 Ammo


The Revenant's last ditch assault blasts my eardrums for a moment before the fuzz of noise dampening systems descends to protect me, intertwining with the whine of the reactor and prickling not-noise of the rig. No, not a Revenant - a dark elf of unexpected strength. Had I realized his power I would have targeted him first. The psi-rig protects me against his magic, but it's a massive strain on the jack's power plant. Only those born beneath the cursed sky can access such powers naturally - mediating them through artifice is an art OLYMPOS still struggles with. At least the dampening shield is holding.

This is when the jack feels most isolating and restrictive, when systems override the feeds from the outside world and force you to confront that you're inside a cramped metal shell with alarms blaring inside of it. Maybe it's the reactor struggling to keep up, or just my imagination, but moving the Heracles' limbs suddenly feels less like moving a part of me than fighting against the controls of a machine.

But I'm trained for this. The unexpected, the chaos. To keep moving and fighting. With whatever I can put my hands on. I reach out and grab a piece of debris from the battle, a portion of some vehicle destroyed in the clash, heft it, and hurl it at the SVARTALFAR.

@SKADI (Gorbash): 2d6+1 AUF to chuck debris at Axecutioner = (5+3)+1 = 9

Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 17:32 on Feb 12, 2018

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Spec. Lombardi
You’re arm is starting to get a little tired and your projectiles are running a bit low when you notice the door shift slightly. Like someone has unlatched it maybe. Then it flies open, and three figures in tattered fatigues and body armor burst out. Two go low and check the corners, the middle goes high and checks out. Almost a textbook clear, but that almost gives you your opening. Your rifle pounds the entrance, their return fire nearly non-existent.

While not full-auto like your’s, the breakers rifles still pack a punch as the ache under your shoulder-armor can attest. Luckily for you, their armor isn’t as good and the trio lay on the concrete pad, groaning in pain. Beyond them the door sits open, utter darkness within its frame.

(The breakers have 3-harm hunting rifles, so 1-harm gets through your armor. They only have 1-armor, so they are sitting at 6:00 and may bleed out)


SKADI
Just as you let the over-sized bumper fly several of the caravaners slam into your legs, screaming and bleeding from their eyes. Your stabilizers complain, and the smooth throw ends up bouncing off the ground before slamming into the wrecked vehicle acting as a stage for the ‘musician’. The NOISE ends with a squeal of protesting metal, but between shaking off the now unconscious caravaners and soothing Heracles’s protesting systems, you aren’t sure what happened to the SVARTALFAR. No corpse is visible, and your motion trackers haven’t detected anything in the area.
(You stop what Axecutioner was doing, but aren’t sure what happened to him)

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'


3:00

I jog up to the breakers who're bleeding on the ground and do a quick triage of the situation. Slinging the rifle back and drawing my pistol, I take a look. I need someone who's going to be able to walk. The first breaker, on the left, took rounds to both thighs and one ankle. She's not going anywhere fast, so I put a bullet in her forehead. "Either of you want to live?" I ask the remaining two. "Names. Now." One of them tells me Coffeecup (honestly, I'm inclined to like her just for that) and other says Wandoo. "I need someone who can one, walk, two, is going to tell me just what the gently caress this group of idiots thinks they're doing and what's in that hole," I snarl as I gesture to the black doorway, "and three, wants to take advantage of medical facilities you can't even dream of." I point from Wandoo and Coffeecup and back with the pistol, keeping half an eye on them and half an eye on the doorway. "You have two seconds."

Lemme know if I need to roll, since they're in no shape to fight back. If either of them show they can't stand I'm shooting them right then and there.

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Corvi
The chaos is nearly overwhelming, the wild movements of the car turn into the earthbound thunder of the prey’s weapon. And just as that winds down, the fragile silence is shattered by the NOISE. It pounds its way into you brain-meat, a harbinger of the screaming EndSong. It shatters Corvi. It shatters Weasel. It shatters-

Calm. The vortex of the EndSong parts, revealing the sitting form of The Mother. Her bloody smile lifts your heart and soothes your flesh. Her many hands each hold the destruction of Mankind, and Her toothy smile grows as she offers one to you. Thus honored, the screams grow louder and the winds whip at your face until-

You crouch behind the broken wall, the Cruzer and your prey a hundred feet away. Your breath is ragged, as if you’ve sprinted the entire way and you can see oddly Corvi-sized gaps in the intervening terrain. Clutched in your arms is an axe of peculiar design...
(SidekickBOT - Today at 9:03 AM @Corvi(SNG): 2d6+1 = (1+6)+1 = 8
-You take a single concrete action of the MC’s choosing: You have recovered Axecutioner's axe.



Spec. Lombardi
Wandoo bursts into sobs, squealing about ‘following orders’ and ‘she’s to young to die’. Coffecup simply stares at you, blinking through the blood in her eyes and cradling her useless arm. With a grunt of pain, she flexes her legs and rocks her feet back and forth. “As much as I want to eat your heart and poo poo in your skull, I want to live to see tomorrow more. If you’re green with that, we gotz a deal. If not, shoot me so I don’t have to listen to Dunker’s fool blubber on.”

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'


3:00

I take stock of what they're telling me, and then I crack Wandoo in the jaw with the butt of my pistol, and I feel her jaw crumble. She's out. Maybe she'll wake up. "Ok, Coffeecup, what should I expect in the bunker?" I put the pistol away. I don't need to threaten her any more. She knows what's at stake.

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?
Spec. Lombardi
Coffeecup looks a bit nonplussed when you silence Wadoo, but quickly shrugs and slowly rises to her feet. She tucks her useless arm into a bit of webbing, and wipes the blood out of her eyes before responding.

"Its your basic damp and cold poo poo-hole, stairs down to an oldtech commons with small rooms off that. Like you'll find all around these hills. Some Stonechild mods: tripwires on the main stairs, and some of the shine-square stacks are rigged to fall on you. Dunker ain't back yet so its only MarMar down there guarding the post."

She pauses, and gives you a look. "I ain't in a position to make askings, but could you not kill MarMar? She's not a truefaith, but joining the Stonechildren was the only way to stay out of Stockard's Pinkpit. She's barely bleeding, but she didn't have much of a choice."

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'


3:00

I get her drift. "Tell me how I'll know her, and I'll do my best." After I get the information, I turn into the darkness. I reach to the side of my helmet and click a button that I'm not sure I remembered was even there until now, and two powerful red lights illuminate the darkness. With another button press, the world grows quieter, as active noise damping activates. Gunfire is loud enough. And in a confined space, well gently caress that. Okay, Stonechildren. I'm coming for ya. Dremmer knows I'm not the legendary Queen of the Spectres...or am I?

@Lombardi (cap foo): 2d6+3 AUF to avoid the traps in the bunker = (3+6)+3 = 12

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Spec. Lombardi
Coffeecup give you a look eerily familiar to the ones you’ve received from L’nai in recent days. “If everyone is lucky, she’ll be the only one at the guardpost. A childish-type-” She waves her good arm at you, indicating your armor, “crammed into as much saint’s regalia as we could find. Yours is in better shape though.”

You pick your way down the staircase, gingerly stepping over and around the various tripwires. You probably would have been OK without Coffeecup’s warning, they’re primitive deadfall and razorwire affairs. The piles of stacked monitors may have giving you trouble, the triggers didn’t stand out as much under redlights. But forewarned your step is cautious and you make your way across the rusted and damp circular chamber without issue. Its obviously the remains of some sort of nerve center, the racks and desks that held the monitors occasionally swiming out of the darkness. On the far side of the chamber is a set of double-door that have a crude barricade of desks and scrap metal welded in front of it. Carved into the stone above the doorway are the words ‘Центр сейсмического мониторинга’, pitted with age.

The quiet is shattered by a noise that reminds you of forgotten training fields: the sound of a rack sliding and a gunshot at the same time. There is muffled cursing, and you see the top of a ballistic helmet poke up above the edge of the barricade. A voice rings out, desperately trying for something more than a child’s squeak. “I-Intruder! Halt or be fired upon, you trespass the halls of the Children of the New Stone Age!”

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.

Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-2 | 0:00 Harm | 6:00 Food | Hunger ○○○ | 2-Armor | XP ●●●○○» | 0-Barter
Power+3 Agility+2 Massive=2 | 0:00 Damage | 3:00 Charge | 9:00 Ammo


The tone indicating no known threats on scope sounds, and the outside world slowly fades back in. I keep my weapon up for a moment as I scan to be sure. When nothing new jumps out to challenge me, I turn my attention back to IFF.

The damage the Heracles took will slow me, make it harder to reach my objective. This had better be worth it.

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'


3:00

"MarMar, is that you playing a guard?" I shout down the hall. "Get the gently caress out of here and go meet Coffeecup outside. She just saved your life." I try to make out her face in the darkness, though the red light is helping quite a bit. I think I see some scars on her face. That's unfortunate, really. "Can't even load a gun without nearly shooting yourself? How exactly do you plan on stopping a Spectre? C'mon, get out of here." I don't really want to shoot her, at this point, but I will.

@Lombardi (cap foo): 2d6+1 Go Aggro on MarMar (please leave) = (3+2)+1 = 6
I do have Disciplined Engagement, so I'm really going to try not kill her, even if I do have to shoot her.

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.


Cool=0 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp-1 Weird+1 0:00 | 2-Armor | XP 4/5 | 1-Barter

It takes a bit to reorient myself. The beast takes care of the loose ends in that time. All that is left is me and the prey. I try to close as much distance as I can before it notices me. The less space I have to cover for the charge the more likely I get to plant this axe into it.

failed act under fire

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Spec. Lombardi
There’s startled cursing from behind the barricade, and MarMar pops up like a jack-in-the….. somethingorother. She raises her hands jerkily and comes out from around the wall. She’s reasonably tall but painfully thin, the kevlar vest and battle webbing hanging off her frame. The scars on her face are easier to see now, and you’re not too surprised to recognize that they’re letters. T on the right cheek, C on the left. “I meant no disrespect Saint Maria, my failsome eyes didn’t reckon your seeming. I bear your icon, my life is yours!”

Before you can process the strangeness, you hear shouting from up the stairs behind you. Coffeecup protesting her innocence, but her words are cut off by a single gunshot. Then a deep male rumble echoes down the stairway. “Hoy boi, you killed my fool. Get up here so I can gut you proper-like.”


Corvi
The beast seems distracted by the contents of one of the scav’s wagons, and you take your chance. You close a fair bit, keeping to its periphery. But just as you’re leaving the last bit of cover, the beasts eyes swivel out of their sockets to regard you. It catches you off-guard and you freeze, realizing that none of the nearby cover will hide you from its gaze or shield you from its weapon.
(You’re caught out in the open, well out of the range of your weapons)


SKADI
The cloth cover and its frame pop off easily, revealing a treasure-trove of technology. Circuit boards and electronic devices are carefully stowed in packing material. But your prize takes up most of the back, Heracles’s AI struggling to identify it aside from the ‘Ragnarok’ IFF. It greatly resembles a warjack’s control couch, but its been built up with metal spars to make it free-standing and covered in gems and silver. A veritable throne, but one that still has a flickering power source.

And then a prox alarm sounds, and a window opens up on you HUD. It shows a tiny bird-shaped figure paused out in the open, holding the axe that recently belonged to the SVARTALFAR. Its movement vector is towards you, and the AI helpfully tags it as a threat.

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.

Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-2 | 0:00 Harm | 6:00 Food | Hunger ○○○ | 2-Armor | XP ●●●○○» | 0-Barter
Power+3 Agility+2 Massive=2 | 0:00 Damage | 3:00 Charge | 9:00 Ammo


I whirl on the target, the targeting icon for the cannon swinging across the screens as it comes up, finally flashing yellow as it lines up on the threat. The ammo counter is in the corner of my eye, though, and it's dropped precipitously.

I key the external speakers, max volume. "Back off," I tell the figure, gun still leveled. Like as not it's a scavenger claiming a prize. And I have the range if they keep coming. Best to conserve ammo if I can.

Go Aggro (+Hard): 2d6+2 8

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'


3:00

I'm glad it's a dark down here, hopefully she can't see my jaw hanging open. The balaclava would make that even harder to see, but nonetheless How does she know my...oh. "What the hell...nevermind. Stay alive, MarMar, I've got questions for you." They're naming kids after me, aren't they. But back to business at hand. "Dunker, is that you? Was this your gang, using my image? gently caress you, pay me." That should give him some thought. Or not, and I'll just shoot him. Whatever.

PoultryGeist
Feb 27, 2013

Crystals?

Spec. Lombardi
The sound of Dunker hocking a loogie down the staircase echoes loudly. “What, you think you’re the first to play the Saint? Trying to get the Dox to dance to your tune? You could have at least chosen a cool Saint like Tamara or Fernando, not the lovely Watcher of the Threshold.” You hear something heavy moving up top.

“So here’s the deal, my Saint: you can either come up here so I can kill you quick, or I’ll block the door and stuff the vents. A bullet to the dome is alot better than choking on dead men’s farts, believe you me.” The echoes of his voice die, leaving only the sound of MarMar’s whimpering.

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.


Cool=0 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp-1 Weird+1 0:00 | 2-Armor | XP 4/5 | 1-Barter

I falter. poo poo. Weakness.

I reassert myself. Stand tall. Well as tall as I stand. "All the loot is yours." I drop the axe. "I only came looking for a word with the thing that was skulking around my turf."

Giving what she thinks SKADI is there for, sweet sweet salvage.

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.

Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-2 | 0:00 Harm | 6:00 Food | Hunger ○○○ | 2-Armor | XP ●●●○○» | 0-Barter
Power+3 Agility+2 Massive=2 | 0:00 Damage | 3:00 Charge | 9:00 Ammo


I keep my weapon pointed towards the Revenant, but relax a bit. "My mission takes me elsewhere," I reply. "I tarry here only for the moment." I consider, then gesture towards the axe. "Keep it."

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.


Cool=0 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp-1 Weird+1 0:00 | 2-Armor | XP 4/5 | 1-Barter

"The boneyard. Not here. Only one allowed near my roost is that wiff cuz she's not worth my time. You, you look worth a lot of time."

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.

Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-2 | 0:00 Harm | 6:00 Food | Hunger ○○○ | 2-Armor | XP ●●●○○» | 0-Barter
Power+3 Agility+2 Massive=2 | 0:00 Damage | 3:00 Charge | 9:00 Ammo


"I have no idea what you're talking about." I pause, then gesture with the cannon. "I have what I came here for. I have no quarrel with you. Let us go our separate ways."

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Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

we vibin'
we slidin'
we breathin'
we dyin'


3:00 | 2-Armor | Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird=nil | x x x o >>

This guy has some loving information. And he's already given me something serious - I was security. That explains the heavy gear, the guns, the armor. It also tells me that I'm likely one of the best equipped people out here - that loving SKADI notwithstanding. "No whining, Maria," I hiss to MarMar. A finger to my lips, and then I breathe out. Stow the rifle and the pistol. Time to run this fucker over. A sprint back up the hall and up the stairs and right into him before he can react.

@Lombardi (cap foo): 2d6+3 AUF (Bull Rush!) = (1+5)+3 = 9

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