Evil Roy and SpeaksEvil Roy stirs at this sight. What a glorious sight it is, oh yes.
Evil Roy gives the crossbow one last try, attempting to shoot a stationary, unaware target, preferably the apparent leader of these stormtroopers, with a stunning bolt.
Also shoot a different target of opportunity.
Willing to give his Reaver one last chance, Evil Roy raises the mechanized crossbow, takes aim at the very vulnerable backs of the Stormtroopers. None of them have any special signs marking them out as leaders, so he just chooses the nearest one.
[3] [Dodge:5-1-1=3] The bolt punches out and slams into a broad-shouldered brute's back.
[Damage:4/2=2] [Stunning:2+1-1=2] The syringe-mechanism stabs into the poor man's blood and inserts its awful payload. He lets out a yelp of pain from the impact - and then the effects set in.
He screams. He staggers. He topples over and writhes in frantic shudders and jerks, white froth escaping from his mouth between horrifying gurgles and sounds best described as half screeching, half sobbing. The rest of the four Stormtroopers turn to stare at him rolling at their feet, then slowly crawl up to see Evil Roy and his companion.
[6] [Dodge:3-1=2] Speaks promptly shoots the first of them, for once scoring a solid hit as a spinning, yellowish tooth embeds itself in a Nazi's chest at high speed and sends him sprawling with a cry.
[Damage:3] It's incredible how deep of a wound a simple tooth can create, though the man still seems to cling onto life.
Evil Roy and Speaks feel quite pleased with themselves, but then the Nazis gather their wits and retaliate.
[1-2=1] The man on the ground is, unsurprisingly, not capable of much more than letting out a long, trembling wail as he claws in vain at the bolt still sticking out of his back.
[5-1=4] Speaks' victim, though, despite the clear disgust and shock on his face, is more willing to engage. Another MPL-44 comes up and opens up in a blaze at the lizard,
[Dodge:4-1=3] but Speaks rolls clear of the volley.
[5-1=4] [Dodge:1-1=1] The evil thug keeps the trigger pressed, though, and there's not much space to dodge. Speaks rolls into the wall and the hissing automatic laser fire follows, lancing into him at his most vulnerable.
[Damage:4*2=8] Surging hot pain explodes, the smell of scorched flesh filling his senses.
[3] It gives him plenty of motivation to go for revenge,
[Dodge:3] and though his quick snap shot only catches the Nazi in the arm,
[Damage:3/2=2] it's enough to punch through and spurt out enough blood to make him go down.
[4-1=3][1-1=1] The other two Nazis seem disturbed by the continuing sounds emitting from their Psychos-afflicted comrade. With a pale face, one of them backs away into Security, while the other only manages to bring up his MPL-88 with wavering arms.
[Dodge:6] Evil Roy drifts harmlessly out of the way with an incomprehendable motion.
The pair exchange a rather panicked series of shouts. The exact composition of their sentences is lost in the speed and intensity of their tones, though it seems evident it contains a lot of ümlauts and ominous fonts. It seems likely, however, that the one who withdrew inside - visible behind the reinforced glass - is attempting to shut the door on the advancing Heroes.
---
Nazi Stormtrooper 5 [HP:3/5]
*
Close Range to Evil Roy and Speaks. -2 to CR, -1 to all actions, writhing on the floor in horrifying, horrifying pain.*MPL-188 [Damage 4/
Close-Ranged I,
Volatile/Nazi]
Nazi Stormtrooper 7 [HP:5/5]
*
Close Range to Evil Roy and Speaks.*MPL-188 [Damage 4/
Close-Ranged I,
Volatile/Nazi]
Nazi Stormtrooper 8 [HP:5/5]
*
Inside Security, In Cover.*MPL-188 [Damage 4/
Close-Ranged I,
Volatile/Nazi]
Status: Gnarly.
HP: 22/30
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: 20/30
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
Dodge and parry and beep frantically and show cute and happy and very anti-nazi images on my screen.
Suppress berserker rage and instead tend to wounds.
The two Heroes both attempt to not horrifying murder one another. Some part of London's mind tells her that killing Crit might be a tad disproportionate to its crime. Especially with such pain and weariness clinging to her, somehow. Are those wrinkles on her hands?
[6] London's rage drops away sharply and is immediately replaced by an equally intense feeling of guilt and compassion that drives her to jump after Crit with tears streaming from her eyes, intent on healing all harm she could possibly have caused her.
[Dodge:4] Crit, thinking this another attack, offers a series of alarmed beeps and crawls clear just in time - with the end result of the weeping London barreling head-first into a medical cabinet.
When the dust, and the falling bandages and splints, settles,
[Damage:2] London has a sore head and both Heroes are sitting rather bemused on the floor of Medical. The drug, at last, begins to wear off.
London feels the wrinkles and back-pain fade away... but, unfortunately, to her growing horror, not completely. It appears she has, essentially, aged a decade or two. At least she's not totally grey-haired, she supposes?
London: -5 Total HP.The pair of them look around. Now that the danger has passed, it looks like they could find something to help the organic members of their team with, at least. No doubt some of the medical equipment could be taken apart to patch up Crit. Their attention is also attracted by a large operating table behind a blood-stained screen. Strange and uncomfortably deadly-looking machinery hang from the ceiling above it. There are a number of drugs and devices that might be useful for something, and what appear to be cabinets full of paper records.
---
Status: Rattled.
HP: 18/25
Possessions:-
Grímnir's Hold [Damage 6/
Unwieldy I, Ancient Wards/Containment]
-
Kodion Thermal Shield [DR: -2/Shield Use: 3/
Fire Barrier/Fire]
-0 Fabricator Tokens
Traits: None
Status: Obsolete.
HP: 15/30
Possessions:
-Dress Sword [Damage 3/Nazi]
+Mega Seeds
+SGP Glue
+Last Resort Explosive Digger
+0 Fabricator Tokens
Traits: None
"You see, fools?! My victory is inevitable! Only foolish fools would dare stand against me! Are you foolish fools?!"
Attempt to convince everyone that this duel is already over and I have won. If that fails, continue stabbing!
Vissilik changes his tactics and decides an appeal to the audience is in order. He offers a powerful logical argument, using all the skills of rhetoric and oration a genius beyond his time such as himself can muster.
[2] The Captain and the crew digest his message for a few seconds. Then the fat man challenges him in turn.
'Nein, alien scum!' the Captain shouts.
'It is YOU who are ze fool! Ha!'He drives his point home with the point of his sword.
[5+1=6] [Dodge:3-1=2] Vissilik is momentarily taken by his counter-argument - the audience claps politely -
[Damage:5/2=3] but not enough for him to score a killing blow. The two circle each again once more.
[1+1=2] Vissilik cannot find an opening despite Gordion's happily beeped instructions. The Captain smirks in aristocratic superiority, swinging his sword in elaborate patterns for the benefit of the audience. If nothing else, he is handling the extensive blood loss with admirable stiff upper lip.
'Dummkopf! You have no chance! I trained under the great master Sturmhalten himself! How could a worm like you stand up to someone who practiced with a true genius, someone beyond his time! Give in und I shall make it quick! Auf wiedersehen!'[3+1=4] He launches forward again, going for Vissilik's skull,
[Dodge:2-1=1] and the fat bastard's blow connects with speed Gordion can't do anything about.
[Damage:5*2=10] Vissilik experiences the unwelcome sensation of something hard and buzzing cutting across his scalp before he can divert the blade. Blood washes down his face. Gordion offers a long, plaintive beep in sympathy.
---
The Captain [HP:12/20]
*
Close Range to Vissilik*SS Electro-Sword [Damage 5/
Disrupting II/Nazi]
*Personal Monocle [Appears to grant access to Nazi systems. May shoot lasers?]
*
Fat Bastard*
Skilled Duelist*Scanned [-2 to Dodge against Vissilik, history of inbreeding uncovered, guilty pleasures (knitting, romance novels) learned]
Status: Genial.
HP: 14/30
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 changed the thread title to be more informative about the content of your missions. The 'RTD' part had to be amputated. May it find peace in whatever afterlife is it's lot.
Author
Topic: Guns, Cash, and Glory: A Random-Generated Scifi Rampage [Mission II!] (Read 56788 times)