(OCC: Maybe.)
Turn 1:
Olaf Ironboot (Wolfchild):
Action: Say farewell to my comrades and lament that they could not go out in glorious combat(viking culture), thanking the Allfather(Emporer) that I was spared that fate, then mount up and head off to the resort and and try to get in touch with someone who can help me out or give me orders, these are in order
1) Other space wolves
2) other forces of the Imperium(dark angels are left out due to a feud and inquisitors too because they believe that our oh so not corrupted and completely not going to turn my canines into fangs and make my eyes yellow, canis helix is faulty.
3) Some Friendly eldar
4) Other races that may be friendly (unlikely)
If the resort managers don't want to help a space marine, show them my storm bolter
Roll: 4
Result: The decision is made. With silent footfalls your wolf glides down the craggy mountain with ease, and it is not long before you are racing across the wind-swept countryside. You should reach the resort before nightfall.
However, after about an hour of riding, you notice something rushing by beside you. You stop the wolf and pause, taking out your bolter and frost axe. You listen... nothing. Just the whispers of the wind. Surely it was just your imagination?
Adrien (Nimitz)
Action: I check my equipment to see if they're fully functional. I will also try to strike up conversation with one of my fellow guardsmen. Better to make sure that somebody has my back before we drop into hell.
Roll: 2
Result: Looking over your equipment, you find that the only thing which is in full functioning order is your old, battered copy of the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer, and that could very easily earn you a demotion or even expulsion (aka execution) if seen by a superior in such a tattered state. The displays on your Hellgun have become water-logged and give scrambled readouts, and the gun has started to randomly hum as if it was about to fire, your trusty combat knife, which you have had since your enlistment and which you have affectionately named "My Lucky Knife", has begun to rust and dull, and the over-hyped shovel which you're forced to carry around is dented and cracked. You don't even bother inspecting the grenades.
Dragnar (Dragnar):
Action: I assume something will go horribly wrong and prepare to fight at a moment's notice.
Roll: 4
Result: Your years of gang fights and gang wars on the lower levels of Terra has taught you well, and you lay our las-rifle upon your lap in preparation of what is to come.
RAM (RAM):
Action: Endure a warp-induced vision of something horrible happening to an interstellar Imperial Guard Vessel.
Roll: 2
Result: Chaos consumes you once again, sweeping away the madness of the material world and placing your insanity-addled mind right back into the comforting abyss of Chaos. Within it, you see a ship, massive, bulky, powerful. You see it whizzing through the Chaos Wastes, turning in upon itself, duplicating, doing things describable only in the realm of Chaos... none of it unusual for something going through the Warp, in fact its state is surprisingly stable for something within the realm of Chaos. You see it... that is what they cal this, right? Sight? You see it pass straight through the wastes, staying perfectly still yet moving at unimaginable speeds... then it suddenly vanishes. And then your vision once again goes awry... how the hell could you have lived here, been born in this crazy realm of 'reality'?
Sluggaz (Paranatural):
Action: "Ok, 'ere's da plan. We jump out an' start da dakka."
With that, I follow the plan.
Roll: 1
Result: You charge out of the bushes, screaming "WAAAAGH!!!" and blast away with your shoota, which manages to deal a few minor hits.
Unfortunately, you go about 5 yards before the militia man blasts your head in with his ballistic rifle.
The militia man stands over your prone form, poking you a few times to make sure you're dead. You are, or so it would seem to a hummie.
"Damn the Emperor, now we gotta deal with Orks too?"
He then walks away briskly, eying the sparse jungle around him.
Your companion walks up to you and looks at the wound.
"Ahhhh, ya wimpy grot, ya coulda at least killed 'im 'fore ya went down!"
He then manages to drag you to the small village not too far away, and tells the village dok he's got a new patient to patch up.
Roland Durvish (Rolan7):
Action: Unholster my Laspistol and prepare to shoot anyone who seems to be turning from the warp energies.
Roll: 6
Result: You take out your laspistol, set it to maximum charge, and shout threateningly at the already unsettled troops, "First one to fall to treachery gets to see what a fully charged and full
functional laspistol can really do!"
Well, they certainly seem loyal now, but you may have over done it with that...
Locke Williamson (Sneevil):
Action: Try to recall where the drop zone is
Roll: 5
Result: You recall that the drop zone was in the lower part of the small continent, with the single word "reconnaissance" to explain your purpose there. You also seem to recall a big red blob in that general area of another map you passed by in the hallway.
David Greene (Xotes):
Action: I mutter the Uplifting Infantryman's Primer to myself
Roll: 1
Result: You try to remember something comforting and uplifting to mutter from the Infantryman's Primer, but you can only remember the sheer number of regulations detailed in Chapter 1, which reminds you that you are just as likely to die from someone on your own side as an enemy.
Extra: Inventory check:
Flak Armor (Worn)
Lasgun
Combat Knife
Guard-Issue Medical Supplies
9-70 Entrenching Tool
Gas Mask with Mk VIII filter
Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer
3 Frag Grenades
Dan Bohey (CJ1145)
Action: Encourage whatever part of the team I lead with a mustachioed speech.
Roll: 1
Result: You open your mouth, and suddenly you simply think, "No."
Not "This is a bad idea" No, not "FUCK YOU CONSCIENCE, I CAN DO WHATEVER THE HELL I WANT" No, just, simply, No.
This is the first time the mustache has ever failed you. You suddenly feel a great deal of self-confidence fly out the window.
@Sneevil: you're currently inside a larger vessel which will take you to the Proxima System, then you will be deployed from orbit.
Turn 2
Author
Topic: Roll to WAAAAGH! II, another 40K RTD Turn 3, NURGLE LOVES YOU THIS MUCH! (Read 16925 times)