Speaks and Evil RoyTake cover and fire again! This foe must be slain!
Evil Roy offers some choice words to the violent man while changing up his strategy a smidgen, which mostly involves him stabbing wildly at the man with his trusty sword.
[5] Speaks climbs over a table to use it as cover and
[6] takes aim at the evil Nazi once more.
[Dodge:6] It's no use - the spinning tooth whirls through the air and goes past his opponent's ear. Instead, it finds a target positioned perfectly behind it.
[Dodge:4] Evil Roy throws himself flat just in time to avoid the tiny fang of death. They are fortunate Speaks' aim is so atrocious that he cannot even hit someone by accident.
[1] The Nazi, a little unsteady from the blood loss or possibly unnerved by the unspeakable comments Evil Roy makes to him, fails to use the chance to counter-attack.
[5] The other hero strikes instead, drawing his humming sword and launching himself forward to
[Dodge:2] [Damage:5] skewer the Nazi along the blade. Blood escapes in a pulsing geyser and then the man topples, dying on his sword. The evil foe is vanquished at last.
The pair of heroes turn from their work to find that a firing line of Nazi stormtroopers has taken position before the main doors. They seem all too keen to use their weapons on them.
---
Status: Gnarly.
HP: 30/30
Possessions:-
Tooth Gun [Damage 3/
Precise, Special Ammo/Teeth]
-The Terrorporter [
Terror Port]
-Dazzle Suit (Variant IX) [Unuseable.]
-0 Fabricator Tokens
Traits: None
Status: Evil. Purplish?
HP: 24/30
Possessions: -
'Reaver' Powered Crossbow [Damage 4/
Close-Ranged I,
Stunning +1, Special Ammo/Sadistic, Mind-Altering]
-
Ursus Amplifier Sword [Damage 5/Amplifier/Bear, Intensify]
-Maelocht's Gloves [
Soulgnawer]
-0 Fabricator Tokens
Traits: None
Crit and LondonOh no, it won't do to use a weapon covered in Nazi markings, people might get the wrong idea. Glue things over all the Nazi decorations on the sword so people don't think I'm a Nazi robot.
London smiles at the adorable monitor-robot and pats it on the head. "Alright, little guy, I'll lead the way. Watch my back!"
Take these wonderful drugs, activate shield and charge the guards at the main door!
Crit beeps in appreciation at London.
Watch London's back. If any Nazis require urgent stabbings to protect her, pause the gluing and dispense stabbings.
Forming a new dynamic duo, London and Crit prepare to charge the stormtroopers at the doors. But first, London knows what she needs to do. She takes the pouch of metallic powder from her belt and without a moment of hesitation, snorts it.
The substance awakens even before it's through her nostrils. The metallic powder begins to move and shift, travelling deeper into her system with a mind of its own, a million scuttling specks of metal that bulge and prickle underneath her skill. She feels them worming relentlessly towards her brain. Striking pain erupts with increasing intensity within her skull until her head is pounding. It's... it's... it's infuriating. London begins to growl. Old memories begin to surface. She remembers a farm horse they used to have in her childhood, an old, bony thing that liked to bite and kick at her at the slightest offense. And that girl, that girl from sixth grade, who made fun of her hair. AND THAT STRANGER ONCE, WHO DIDN'T THANK HER FOR HOLDING THE DOOR OPEN! THEY NEED TO PAY! SHE MUST HAVE HER VENGEANCE!
[3+1-1=3] But they're not here. They're beyond her reach, a fact that she suddenly finds supremely irritating. She's been too kind for too long. Everyone who has ever slighted her, everyone, as she can know remember every slight to her in stark clear detail, EVERYONE WILL PAY! London fixes her gaze on the Nazis. The targets for her vengeance are nowhere to be near, so she has to vent her frustration on the closest thing. Screaming, London charges at the wall of Nazis.
[1+1=2][1][4][5][2] The sight of the berzerk farmgirl proves to be enough to unnerve most of the firing line and only scattered shots come her way.
[Dodges:6/1] A bolt of sizzling light streaks past her from one of the stormtroopers. The soldier right on her path, his look that of terror at the onrushing sight, pulls the trigger of his boxy submachinegun, and London
[Shield Use:2] is too enraged to bring her shield up.
[Damage:4*2=8] Burning pain explodes as she's hit by the burst of lasers, only heightening her rage.
Crossing the distance, London
[Dodge:6] swings her axe with manic fury, which proves to be wholly uneffective for actually hitting something. She lands with a bellow in the middle of the Nazis, who scatter, staggering back with their weapons swinging around.
Having watched this spectacle unfold, Crit stops the process of gluing over all offending Nazi insignia on the sword -
[4] a fair success, though no-one will ever call the thing pretty again - and rushes after his new buddy.
[4] [Dodge:5-1=4] Though the Nazis are distracted by London's terrifying charge, they react quickly enough to dodge clear of Crit's swinging unNazified sword.
[4] One of the stormtroopers blasts at him with his submachinegun,
[Dodge:2-1+1=2] catching Crit in his shiny scrap metal shell.
[Damage:4] Damage reports pop up on his monitor with frantic beeps.
Surrounded by Nazis, London feels a strange weight in her bones, increasing with every passing second. She runs a hand over her face and feels some kind of... wrinkles?
---
Nazi Stormtrooper Leader [HP:10/10]
*
Close Range to Crit and London.*MPL-188 [Damage 4/
Close-Ranged I,
Volatile/Nazi]
*
FanaticNazi Stormtrooper 1 [HP:10/10]
*
Close Range to Crit and London.*MPL-188 [Damage 4/
Close-Ranged I,
Volatile/Nazi]
Nazi Stormtrooper 2 [HP:10/10]
*
Close Range to Crit and London.*MPL-188 [Damage 4/
Close-Ranged I,
Volatile/Nazi]
Nazi Stormtrooper 3 [HP:10/10]
*
Close Range to Crit and London.*MPL-188 [Damage 4/
Close-Ranged I,
Volatile/Nazi]
Nazi Stormtrooper 4 [HP:10/10]
*
Close Range to Crit and London.*MPL-188 [Damage 4/
Close-Ranged I,
Volatile/Nazi]
Status: DRUGGED. 4 TURNS REMAINING. +1 to CR, may attack allies, aging rapidly.
HP: 22/30
Possessions:-
Grímnir's Hold [Damage 6/
Unwieldy I, Ancient Wards/Containment]
-
Kodion Thermal Shield [DR: -2/Shield Use: 3/Fire Barrier/Fire]
-
Strange Metallic Powder-0 Fabricator Tokens
Traits: None
Status: Obsolete.
HP: 26/30
Possessions:
-Dress Sword [Damage 3/Nazi]
+Mega Seeds
+SGP Glue
+Last Resort Explosive Digger
+0 Fabricator Tokens
Traits: None
VissilikTo the bridge! Quickly, before the Nazis realize what's going on.
Happily ignorant of what's going on behind him, Vissilik sets off with his minion towards the bridge. From the sound of things, he doesn't need to fear being pursued from the fellows he passed.
He advances up the main corridor, ignoring the screams and shocked looks of crewmen and guests he passes. The Nazi in his grip wails as he's pulled along. Alarms blare over a general background noise of spreading panic.
[6] Spectacularily, he's not accosted once on the way to the bridge by guards or crew. In fact, the trip is so quick and uneventful he's already passed through the doors to the bridge before he himself realizes it.
'Mein Gott!' someone shouts out, and Vissilik looks up to see a fat Nazi with an impressively large cap and a line of medals on his chest.
He's standing by a silver throne on an elevated terrace overlooking banks of crew-manned boards and terminals. The sheer amount of various buttons, meters and levers on display is both astounding and delightful. The room is a u-shape, with large window panels running the length of the far wall. Through them, Vissilik can see vast banks of clouds and in the distance, the bulk of another zeppelin ahead. Curiously, this place and everything he's seen so far appears to be inside the balloon itself, raising questions on how exactly this thing flies after all.
[5] There's perhaps time to consider that later. Right now, his focus is drawn to the two guards staring at him, the thought of taking action clearly taking shape behind their ugly brows.
---
Status: Terrified. Pliable. Probably evil.
HP: 5/5
Possessions: None
Traits:
*Scanned [-2 to Dodge against Vissilik, can never hide, embarassing rash and family history known]
Status: Genial.
HP: 30/30
Possessions:-
Greyfang [Damage 2/
Tearing II,
Inspiring/Wolf]
-
Gordion Personal Drone [Shield DR:-2/Combat Scanning/Servant, Intelligence]
-The Green Hat [Can shoot out poisoned money. Stylish.]
0 Fabricator Tokens
Traits: None
---
I feel like Vissilik believed in his own claims of being a genius beyond his time so much the universe just went along with it. Nothing else explains all these fantastic rolls.
Poor London. A person who sees nothing wrong with taking unknown drugs in the middle of a battle is too pure and innocent for this world. Good guess by whoever predicted they were nanobots, by the way.