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Only War: The Forsaken

Game Master Eradico Pravus

Cast from a blighted homeworld, the Guardsmen of Company F fight for the Imperium of Man along the war-torn Spinward Front. Despised by enemies, disparaged by allies, they have no one to trust except themselves for they are... The Forsaken!


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Male Human Operator

Guess I better do something about it

Anselm will attempt to manipulate the fuel-line access panel to try and at least save the men from a horrible disaster waiting to happen "As if greenskins wasn't not enough!"


With the shuttle's nose and landing gear partially buried in the earth, Guardsman Tartare must crawl underneath the craft to find the access. Dolf also realizes the gravity of the situation and dives in after his comrade. The pair quickly finds the correct panel, popping it open to reveal an intimidating array of switches, breakers, and dials.

Dolf gives a low whistle and exclaims, "Porca l'oca!"

OK, Anselm, the process of flushing gas from the system and activating the bypass function will take some time--four combat rounds--after which a (critical) Tech-Use Test will be called for.


The Ork squad to the north (letter S on the map) moves eastward, interspersing the dilapidated buildings between them and the guardsmen and thus are no longer in direct line of sight. Scope notes a single Ork that runs, grabs the discarded missile device, and attempts to follows the others but remains visible. The wounded Ork simply stands up and trots east behind a structure.

From the northeast, two Orks and four Gretchin (letter R on the map) charge towards the shuttle as fast as they can.

The Runtherd horde moves at the Gretchin maximum running rate of 12 meters/round. They are now 78 meters away.

Sarge is up.


Male Heavy Gunner

" Sarge, I will take care of the small ones if you can get that launcher our of commission." I point up the the burning engine. " That cant take an other hit."


Male Sergeant

Ears still ringing from the massive explosion that just wiped out most of the guardsmen debarking behind him, Sgt. Mire staggers forward, the magnoculars still clutched tightly in both hands, but forgotten, wondering numbly if poor Captain Castiglione ever knew what hit him---probably not, the man was a hard drinker, the vice of choice for many men who had survived Oremor. Some part of Mire was earnestly hoping that the poor captain was still in the half-fog of his latest hangover when the end came.

As the Sarge looks down at the smoking holes in his uniform, one still pierced with a red-hot piece of shrapnel hanging by a smoldering thread, he comes to his senses again, hearing Dol shouting from somewhere far away. He turns and flinches, finding that the burly gunner is far closer than he surmised, leaning in toward him and practically yelling in his ear. He looks concerned. Concerned for him. This brings the sergeant back to himself like a slap to the face, all evidence of his disorientation dissipating like stormclouds blown away by a fierce, unfriendly, wind.

The words that Dol is saying finally register, punctuated by the hiss-crack of the las-carbines firing, interspersed with the staccato dak-dak-dak of the ork weapons.

A quick glance around him brings the tactical situation into focus quickly, and he points toward the westernmost furrow.

"Dol! Get your stubber set up on the edge of that ditch and end those greenskins moving on our flank!"

Looking behind him he sees Lark, smirking impishly at him even in the fury of the battle raging around them.

"Hathin, Book, you're with me, double-time it, we need to get that bastard with the rokkit before he uncorks another!"

Not waiting for an answer largely because he doesn't want to hear the sporchi question his order, he unslings his carbine and runs for the edge of the eastern furrow, near the van of 'F' Company. Dropping to one knee he settles the short stock into the crook of his arm and takes aim at the loping greenskin, squeezing off a single shot.

BS = 30, +10 (Single Shot), = 40, 1d100 ⇒ 85.

Sgt. Mire curses as the shot goes wide, the loose, muddy dirt from the furrow slipping out from under his braced knee.

Warmaster:
I'm assuming we can still hit the ork rokkit-boy from here Eradico, if not, the Sarge will redirect Hathin and Book to back up Dol against the Runtherds and their Gretchin.


Sarge:
The Ork with the launcher will remain in sight of the Guardsmen until it can move during Ork initiative of round 2. It is currently at long-range, requiring a (-10) modifier. Feel free to give alternative orders.

Sarge's las-round kicks up dirt well behind the retreating Ork with the lancher. The xeno is at long range for the las-carbine, some 150 meters away. Guardsman Murjoff also misses, saying, "Sorry Sarge. It'd take some shot to get that green bastard."

All:
Remember if your comrade fires at the same target as your character, you gain a +05 BS bonus. I will assume that will always be the case unless expressly posted otherwise.

Dol and Vex are up.


Male Weapons Specialist

Hathin gives Sarge a nod before turning to Book and gesturing with his head in a off we go this way motion. Trusting entirely to the inaccuracy of the orks and his own swift perambulation Hathin does not bother crouching as he jogs forward.

Book follows after a little more cautiously and taking more cover than his intransigent comrade in arms.

Full action to Run moving 18m - straight along the right most shuttle rut.
Ranged attacks made against Lark suffer a –20 penalty to BS Tests


Vex takes a ill-aimed shot at the nearest target

BS 30 1d100 ⇒ 90

He takes cover.


Male Human Operator

"Dolf common, I need you to move them were I just told you too!" as Anselm keeps working and probably not remembering if he told him actually were or even if he did it at all "I hate this open ground fighting" and every time he takes a peek just to see how things are going they just don't seem to be getting any better.


Male Heavy Gunner

"Gerr you heard the Sarge, we'er to take out these over here. You take from left to right while I go from right to left. Well meet in the middle and see who has taken the most down."

I brace my stubber off of my hip and start shooting.

BS 34+5 for comrade shooting at same target+20 for full auto=59 1d100 ⇒ 68

What the drannit the stowage must have messed with the trigger. Seeing that the bullets start firing well before I was expecting.

I drop down to a knee and start fiddling with trigger.


The explosion lifts Edwin bodily into the air and deposits him back on the ground with a sickening crunch. Rolling with the impact, he comes up in a low crouch, desperately trying to blink his vision back into focus as his whole body cries out in pain. As his sight clears, he searches for the source of the crude projectile and focuses in on a lone ork in the distance, desperately running for cover.

Edwin calmly shoulders his hellgun, lines up the target, and squeezes the trigger.

BS + Aim + Long Range + Single Shot + Custom Grip = 35 + 10 - 10 + 10 + 5 = 50

Roll : 1d100=49

Damage : 1d10 + 4 = 9 + 4 = 13 (Pen 7)

Edwin smirks with satisfaction as the shot slags a chunk of meet off the ugly brute's left calf.


Anselm Tartare wrote:
"Dolf common, I need you to move them were I just told you too!" as Anselm keeps working and probably not remembering if he told him actually were or even if he did it at all "I hate this open ground fighting" and every time he takes a peek just to see how things are going they just don't seem to be getting any better.

Dolf wrinkles his brow and looks over at the Operator, "Throne, Anselm! We had just polished off our second bottle of rot-gut when those Navy-Techs gave us that shuttle-tour. I don't remember any of that!"


Dol wrote:
I drop down to a knee and start fiddling with trigger.

As the heavy gunner adjusts the trigger, Gerr detaches the magazine and slams it back into the stubber. "Just keep shootin', Dol! You're clear!"


Edwin Drususon wrote:

Damage : 1d10 + 4 = 9 + 4 = 13 (Pen 7)

Edwin smirks with satisfaction as the shot slags a chunk of meet off the ugly brute's left calf.

The Storm-Trooper's hellgun, a las-rifle enhanced to penetrate heavy infantry armor, punches through the calf and additionally sears and immolates the leg. The Ork pirouettes slowly as if unaware to what is happening. As the xeno's brain finally registers that it is on fire, it crashes in an agonizing heap and dies. The rocket launcher now lies harmless in the grass.


Skrynne Southern Hemisphere
Near Supply Depot 31
45.818.M41

Into the Fray--Round Two

Strategic Map
The players started at point “A” located at the rear of the shuttle.
The yellow box to the northwest marks two approaching runtherds and four gretchin, approximately 78 meters away.
The yellow box to the north marks the location of the dead ork and rocket launcher, approximately 150 meters away.
The question mark is where the squad lost visual contact with several Shoota Boyz that moved towards the dilapidated structures.

Tactical Map
Each square=2 meters
Guardsmen with a comrade can assume their comrade is in an adjacent square unless noted otherwise.
Guardsman Tartare and his comrade are kneeling underneath the shuttle at the shown location, attempting to vent fuel from the burning engines. This action will be completed on round five.
The brown furrows created by the shuttle’s landing gear provide AP 2.
Smaller green brush-trees provide AP 1.
Dilapidated buildings, rubble heaps, low stone walls provide AP 4.
The nearest buildings are approximately 30 meters away from the shuttle.
The main battle between Brontian and Ork forces is off map, approximately .75-1.0 km north-northwest.

The runtherd and gretchin are running (-20 to BS to hit)
The gretchin are "weedy" in size (additional -10 to hit)

Initiative Order
Anselm 13
Scope 12
Doc 10
Orks 8
Sarge 7
Dol, Vex 6
Drususon, Lark 4

Anselm:
There is no roll for you to make as yet, since your attempt to vent fuel will not be completed until round 5, but feel free to make a round two post adding to the flavor of the moment. :)

Anselm and Scope are up.


Male Sergeant

By the time the sarge prepares to fire again at the ork with the rocket launcher, his target is already slumped on the ground, its leg a blazing pyre, now very much separate from the rest of the burly xenos' body.

Glancing behind him, he sees the stormtrooper already sighting down the barrel of his weapon again.

With a grim nod that is equal parts respect and encouragement, he points first toward Edwin and then toward the runtherders and their scampering charges closing in quickly from the northwest.


Male Human Sniper

Seeing that my target is neuralized for the moment, and unfortunately the Rokkit Launcha was grabbed and that target is out of sight. I default to secondary objectives. Command and Control. Lets see how good the Green Skins morale is.

"Dot light me up a Runtherd."

Ballistic Skill (1d100=14)

I adjust my sites pacing the stride of the Ork. Leading two pips over for run speed and windage as Dot rattles off adjustments like a well oiled machine. I squeeze the trigger.


"Adjust three left, one down." breathes Dot in a whisper.

BS (43) + half-action aim (10) + Spotter (10) + Short Range (10) - Running (20) = 14/53, hit to the torso, four degrees of success

Runtherd attempts to Dodge (15), roll: 1d100 ⇒ 25, failure

Scope, please roll damage. Remember you may replace the die roll with a "four" based on your degrees of success.


Rolling damage for Scope:
1d10 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Runtherd #1 13 - total TB 7 + sniper rifle pen 3= 9 wounds
Runtherd #1: 15 wounds total -9 wounds delivered = 6 wounds remaining

The marksman's slug catches the Gretchin-Handler square in the chest. Other than a brief flinch the beast display no ill effect and continues to drive the other Orkoids forward with growls and a grot-prod.

For book-keeping purposes, the now-wounded Runtherd (#1) is the "left" or westernmost of the two charging Runtherds.

Doc is up.


Male Human Medic

I will aim for a turn. Tell me what my best target will be.


From the shallow trench, a kneeling Doc sizes up the Ork mob charging from the northeast. He takes his time and draws a steady bead on the nearest Runtherd.

Doc:
I'd say the second Runtherd will be your best target since Runtherd #1 might be killed before your next action. Let me know if you want to change targets (you may not target the Ork with the rocket launcher since his action came after Doc's). Full aim action will allow a +20 bonus next round on the non-wounded Runtherd (#2).

Orks are up.


Readjustment for Scope's shot on the Runtherd:
13 wounds - total TB 6 = 7 wounds, pen 3 by-passes flak-vest armor 2, 7 wounds total delivered.

Ellipsis:
Thanks for checking my work and please continue to do so. I'm sure I'll continue to make errors as I learn the system as GM.

To the northwest the Runtherds continue to drive their Gretchin headlong toward the shuttle. The rightward group is partially hidden behind a large scrub-brush.

Full run movement of 12 meters. Here is an updated map.

Some 150 meters to the north, squad members see an Ork run towards the fallen Greenskin and pick a weapon up from the grass. The array of buildings to the northeast blocks any view of the other Shoota Boyz spotted earlier.

To reiterate, there are three separate "groups" of Orks: 1. Runtherds to the northwest. 2. Lone Ork with rocket launcher to the north. 3. Shoota Boyz behind/among the buildings to the northeast.

Sarge is up.


Male Sergeant

Sgt. Mire turns to bark another order at Hathin, but realizes too late that the weapons specialist has already begun running across the broken terrain of the furrow toward the ruined buildings.

Wary that no one has noticed any further movement from the orks that now lurk among the buildings, he scans their ruined facades for any sign of movement.

Awareness (38) test, 1d100 ⇒ 89.

Waving Murjoff to follow him, confident that the rest of the squad can handle the runtherd advance to the west, he yells over the crackle of las-fire to his adjutant.

"Murjoff! Get on the horn and see if you can raise the Brontians, try to get a handle on our tactical position in this mess!"

Spying another greenskin attempting to pick up the launcher, Sgt. Mire advances a few meters further down the trench and then takes aim, firing upon the ork.

Single shot, Standard Attack, BS (30) +10, = 40, modified by range as appropriate,1d100 ⇒ 14.

Warmaster, the sarge will follow Hathin as he advances down the trench, providing cover for him and keeping his eyes peeled for a flanking attack from the Shoota Boyz hidden among the buildings.


Male Human Sniper

So was the Ork that picked up the Rokkit Launcher out of Scopes sight, but visible by others? If not my shot would have gone against him instead for target priority. From your top of round summary I thought that Ork was not a viable mark.


Scope:
Scope wrote:
So was the Ork that picked up the Rokkit Launcher out of Scopes sight, but visible by others? If not my shot would have gone against him instead for target priority. From your top of round summary I thought that Ork was not a viable mark.

The Ork moved into visual range during the Ork movement phase. He was not initially in line of sight with the Guardsmen at the start of the round nor during Scope's phase. He ran to where the (now dead) Ork discarded the Rocket Launcher in the grass. In review, the Ork probably does not have enough movement to actually pick up the launcher (which is how we'll play it) but the Guardsmen are now (starting with Sarge) aware of the situation. I think some confusion may arise from the "Strategic" map where it looks like the second Ork should have been visible at the start of the round. This was more for general locations so if you'll indulge me well keep it as is. Let me know if this interpretation is potentially in error.

I suppose in the future Scope could choose "Delay" for targets of opportunity.


Sarge surveys the situation from the trench as Murjoff toggles the vox and attempts to dial reception. Behind him he notes there is still fire blocking the exit ramp at the rear of the shuttle. Turning to the buildings some 30 meters from their position, Mire scans for the enemy.

Awareness Test failed.

Undoubtedly the Orks are moving through the ruins towards their position. It is only a matter of time before they come under fire.

To the left of the buildings the non-com spots an Ork sprinting from cover towards the fallen Greenskin with the missile weapon. Sarge brings his weapon to bear and squeezes off a shot.

BS (30) + Standard (10) - Running (20) = 14/20, hit by one degree (please note I'm ruling that since the Ork was making a full move it has yet to actually pick up the launcher this round).

Sarge, please roll damage.


Male Human Sniper

Eradico

Spoiler:
Fine with me. Just trying to get a clear order of things. Just trying to have him follow target priority as a real world sniper would.


Scope:
No problem. I probably need to be a little more explicit in my descriptions. Here's the sequence: 1. Ork #1 with the launcher is the one you severely damaged in round one. He recovered and ran out of sight. 2. The second Ork grabbed the launcher and was shot and killed. 3. Now the first Ork is coming back out and trying to get the launcher (with only one functioning arm). He will probably be killed with Sarge's shot.


Male Sergeant

Sgt. Mire grins in satisfaction when the hurried shot hits, looking back on the still burning shuttle he muses, some days it is better to be lucky than good...

Damage for las-carbine, 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6.


OK, attempting to get this right:
Damage 6 - torso armor 2 = 4 - TB of 6 = 0 damage.

The sergeant's smile disappears as he sees the Ork continue to search the grass near its fallen comrade. Sarge then creeps forward a few more steps.

Half-move north along the trench, AB 2 = 2 meters.

Dol and Vex are up.


Male Heavy Gunner

"Ok lets see if that fixed it. Gerr lets try that again."

BS= 34 +20 full auto+5 companion=59 1d100 ⇒ 69


With a further negative modifier of -20 (running opponent), Dol's attack misses 69/39.

The heavy gunner's stubber belches forth rounds with a steady, "Rat-a-tat-tat!" Slugs stitch the earth near the charging Orks and Gretchin but find no purchase.

Once Dol lets his finger off the trigger, Gerr says, "Throne alive, Dol. Will you quit wasting perfectly good ammo?"

Vex is up.


Male Weapons Specialist

Hathin starts humming to himself as he continues to put his legs to use.

Another 18m run up the right furrow.
Sick kids, man-flu and crappy internet connectivity is rife at present, so will remain intermittent throughout holiday timeframe.


Commissar Vex overlooks the guardsmen as they spray fire towards the enemy Orks. "Keep it up, men! The Emperor is with us! By faith and fury we will wipe out these vermin!"

He then raises his bolt-pistol and takes aim at the Runtherd horde.

Shooting at Runtherd #1
BS (32) + half-action aim (10) - running (20) - long-range (10)= 12
Rolling,
1d100 ⇒ 1, success (!) by two degrees (head shot)
Damage,
1d10 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
12 wounds - TB 7= 5 wounds delivered, Runtherd #1 has 1 wound remaining

The soldiers nearby watch with some incredulity as the Commissar casually pauses to deliver a successful strike against the oncoming force.


Hathin De'Lark wrote:
Hathin starts humming to himself as he continues to put his legs to use.

The weapons specialist sprints north along the furrow left by the shuttle. To his right are heaps of rubble and long-neglected, crumbling buildings.

Drususon is up.


Switching targets, Edwin lines up one of the approaching Runtherds in his sights.

BS + Aim + Running Target + Single Shot + Custom Grip = 35 + 10 - 20 + 10 + 5 = 40

Roll: 1d100=85


Edwin Drususon wrote:
Switching targets, Edwin lines up one of the approaching Runtherds in his sights.

The Storm Trooper lets loose with his modified heavy laser but the beam scorches the earth and misses its mark.


Hathin De'Lark wrote:

Hathin starts humming to himself as he continues to put his legs to use.

Another 18m run up the right furrow.

Lark continues to plunge ahead, running low along the swathe left by the shuttle. He notices Book glancing nervously back as they leave the squad further behind. Book maintains pace with weapons specialist, muttering, "The Emperor protects, the Emperor protects."


Skrynne Southern Hemisphere
Near Supply Depot 31
45.818.M41

The Guardsmen of Squad Mire continue to pepper shots at the oncoming Orks. To their rear they hear shouts and see flame-retarding foam emit from the jagged hatchway. To the north the entrenched Brontian Longknives continue to try and stem the tide of Orks storming their fortifications.

The two Runtherds and their attendant Gretchin continue their charge from the northwest. Some 150 meters north a lone Ork fumbles through the grass, presumably to find an Ork rocket launcher. The position of Shoota Boyz to the northeast is unknown as the buildings and ruins hide any potential approach.

Over the noise of shouts and weapons-fire, Vox-Operator Murjoff shouts into the transmitter and dial in the appropriate frequency.

Into the Fray--Round Three

Tactical Map
Each square=2 meters
Guardsmen with a comrade can assume their comrade is in an adjacent square unless noted otherwise.
Guardsman Tartare and his comrade are kneeling underneath the shuttle, attempting to vent fuel from the burning engines. This action will be completed on round five.
The brown furrows created by the shuttle’s landing gear provide AP 2.
Smaller green brush-trees provide AP 1.
Dilapidated buildings, rubble heaps, low stone walls provide AP 4.
The nearest buildings are approximately 30 meters away from the shuttle.
The main battle between Brontian and Ork forces is off map, approximately .75-1.0 km north-northwest.

The runtherd and gretchin are running (-20 to BS to hit)
The gretchin are "weedy" in size (additional -10 to hit)
The western-most Runtherd is wounded. The lone Ork to the north is wounded.

Initiative Order
Anselm 13
Scope 12
Doc 10
Orks 8
Sarge 7
Dol, Vex 6
Drususon, Lark 4

Beneath the shuttle Anselm and his buddy Dolf try to sort out the proper rites required to empty the burning engine before it explodes and takes half the shuttle with it.

Dolf asks, "That toggle there, Anselm. What does it do? It'll turn off the turbine, right? But I'm damned if I know how to cut circuit voltage without disabling the fuel bypass system."

Scope is up.


Male Human Sniper

I follow as the Runtherd misses a step from my impact. Still running damn. Where is there weak spot???

Again leading my scope 2 dots over I squeeze the trigger.

Ballistic Skill (1d100=53)


BS (43) + half-action aim (10) + Spotter (10) + Short Range (10) + single shot (10) - Running (20) = 53/63, hit by two degress.
Roll damage! (d10 +4)


Male Human Sniper

Sniper Rifle Damage (1d10+4=12)


Hit location, body; Sniper rifle Pen 3 bypasses Flak Vest AP 2
12-7 (TB) = 5 wounds delivered
1 wound remaining - 5 = Critical Hit Chart 4:
"The blow batters the target, shattering a rib. The target suffers 1d10 Toughness Damage and must make a Challenging (+0) Agility Test or be knocked Prone."

Toughness Damage, 1d10 ⇒ 4, Toughness reduced to 40
Agility Test (30), roll:
1d100 ⇒ 81, failure

Through his telescopic site, the sniper sees his shot punch into the torso of the xeno. It immediately drops to the ground while emitting a bellowing roar.

All:
Still trying to get the hang of this. Runtherd #1 is now essentially at "-4" (per damage and critical hit rules) and in all probability will suffer a gruesome death if hit once more. Rook, Ellipsis, anyone, let me know if I'm misreading the rules here.

Variable Lasgun Settings (All):
This won't help Scope but I want to remind characters with lasguns that they may use the variable setting to increase damage dealt. If you plan on using the variable setting, please state so in your post *prior* to rolling. See below for the rule (freely available in the errata on the FFG site):

Las Carbine (page 126): Add the following to the end of
the Las Carbine entry: “Las carbines benefit from the the lasgun
variable setting rule.”
M36 Lasgun (page 126): Add the following to the end of the
entry for the M36 Lasgun: “Lasgun Variable Setting: The M36
Lasgun has a variable setting option, allowing it to fire higher-powered
bursts. It may be changed to overcharge mode, dealing +1 Damage, but
using two shots worth of ammunition per shot fired. Further, the lasgun
may be changed to overload mode,dealing +2 Damage and gaining +2
Penetration. In this case, the lasgun uses four shots of ammunition per
shot fired, loses Reliable, and gains Unreliable.”


Doc Zane steadies his lasrifle and tracks the other Runtherd in his gun-site. Next to the medic, Guardsman Zees also lines up to fire at the xeno.

BS (30) + Comrade (05) + Single shot (10) + Full aim (20) - Running (20) = 45 or lower to hit for Doc. Roll damage if successful.


Male Human Medic

BS W/ bonuses(45) = 1d100 ⇒ 67 missed


Male Human Operator

Anselm tries the best he can to save as many as he can "Just do as I tell you, don't be getting all I want to take the initiative on me!


Anselm Tartare wrote:
Anselm tries the best he can to save as many as he can "Just do as I tell you, don't be getting all I want to take the initiative on me!

Dolf, dumbfounded by the array of dials and switches, replies, "All right, all right, Anselm. Give it a go but don't say I didn't try to warn you when this whole ship goes up like an Imperial Candle on Emperor's Day!"


Ork's Initiative

The sounds of battle echo all across the area of the landing field. Behind them the Guardsmen hear the flaming roar of the burning jet engine. To the northwest the Imperial installation remains besieged. Explosions, either from grenades or missiles, rock the walls and gate. Las and stubber fire emit from the installation as well as emplacements such as bunkers and pillboxes surrounding the depot.

150 meters north of the Imperial Shuttle a lone Ork retrieves something from the grass and fiddles with it.

There is still no sign of the Ork squad that disappeared earlier behind the buildings to the northeast.

To the northwest, Scope sees through his telescopic site that the Runtherd he downed seconds earlier staggers to his feet and stumbles forward. Even at this distance through the tumult of battle, Scope hears the xeno emit the trademark "Waaaaauugh!" battle cry. The scream pushes the Runtherd's Gretchin further. The other Runtherd and Gretchin race forward as well.


Murjoff removes the receiver from his ear and glances up at his NCO. "Hey boss, I got one of the Brontians on the horn. Not getting much out of him and he sounds kinda panicky. You wanna talk to 'em?"

Sarge is up.

Rook:
You may elect to have a verbal exchange over the vox but that will count as your action this round. Or you may deliver terse instructions to Murjoff OR a terse message to the Brontians through Murjoff at no cost. That would then allow your regular menu of options.


Male Human Sniper

"Damn"

Without taking my eye off the target.

"Dot you see a chink in them yet? Tired of wasting bullets."

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