Elta continues meditating in the truck.
Having warned the others, Borak moves back the way he came, Blending in with the sand dune, so as to surprise the attackers once their backs were too him.
Ok everyone tell me what your going to do, you have been told where they stopped and if you move yourselves to where you want to be on the map, I will start the action. :)
Ok oll mobve ya
Lurking behind one of the newly formed sand dunes, Julia waited for the men to approach. Her plan was to strike from behind when they passed.
As you get under cover 1st you see they are coming in two groups with some one up on the ridge with a long gun. He is moving slower,
They look to be local smuggler types, they have blades only.
They seem to think your still in the truck.
So to get you an Ambush you need to roll
Kn Nature or Survival DC14 to know where to hide.
If you have a sand snorkel you can had in the sand, Full surprise.
Max Init and surprise round
Or move and come at them as they try to go around / over a dune
INit for those in that group +10
Then roll Stealth to hide.
You get a premnation that you should hid in the sand and attack hand to hand. A flash on an image, and the Tarot card sign cross you minds
The guard when he gets to the truck says Elta name to bring him out of his trance and points him at where the others are.
Elta comes out of her meditation and looks around. He says "I see the storm is over. Trouble huh?" He then gets out and heads to one of the sand dunes and hides.
You can all see them now, the two groups heading you way, they move fast and low, knives out. Heading to the trucks position. You bed yourselves into an ambush, Ready for them to pass you. They are not wildfreman they do not understand the sand.
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you all get ready, and look out over the, sands. After a sandstorm on the desert planet of Arrakis, known as Dune, the landscape undergoes a dramatic transformation. The once smooth and undulating dunes are reshaped and redefined, with fine grains of sand settling into new patterns and formations. The air is thick with the smell of earth and the sensation of grit, lending an almost palpable weight to the atmosphere.
The sky, which may have been obscured during the storm, begins to clear, revealing a vast expanse of deep blue and orange hues that reflect the setting sun. In the aftermath, the surface of the sand glistens with small amount of moisture from the brief encounter with the storm, giving it a more vibrant and shifting appearance. You see some areas retain peculiar shapes, creating temporary sculptures akin to ripples or waves frozen in time.
Your Footprints or tracks left by you are all gone. and as you wait Occasionally, a small cloud of dust is stirred up as the wind continues to play over the dunes, adding an ever-changing element to the scenery.
The resilience of the desert is evident, as the sands seem to breathe and shift with each gust, concealing the treasures and hidden dangers that lie beneath. After the chaos of the storm, the stark beauty of the sands is both haunting and mesmerizing, embodying the paradox of Arrakis—a land of desolation, yet rich with its own vital mysteries.
On the arid planet of Dune, the relentless sun bathes the landscape in a harsh, golden glow, while the winds howl across the vast desert, erasing any trace of recent activity. In the shimmering heat haze, a broken-down sand truck sits abandoned on the shifting sands—its metallic body battered and sun-bleached, a stark contrast against the endless dunes of the desert.
Suddenly, the tranquility is shattered by the distant rumble of engines. Two groups of spice smugglers, skilled and ruthless, emerge from a hidden crease in the landscape, their eyes gleaming with avarice for the valuable spice that’s often transported in such vehicles. The first group, comprised of three rough-and-tumble men, check their blasters and exchange nods of anticipation as they move stealthily across the sand. The second group, consisting of two more smugglers, circles around toward the rear of the truck, their movements practiced and fluid—hunters stalking their prey.
Unbeknownst to the smugglers, lurking beneath the surface of the sand are the hidden Fremen. Masters of their environment, these desert dwellers can feel the vibrations of footsteps and the tremors of engines through the earth. They lie in wait, their blue-within-blue eyes scanning the horizon, keenly aware of the impending threat. As the smugglers approach, the Fremen decide the time has come to strike, rising from their concealed positions with an eerie silence.
Just as the lead smuggler bends to inspect the truck, a sudden eruption of sand explodes upwards around him. The Fremen spring into action, pulling glimmering crysknives from their belt as they emerge from the dunes, their faces masked against the sun and the bitter winds. The element of surprise is on their side. In a fluid motion, they launch themselves at the smugglers, striking with precision and ferocity.
Amidst the chaos, the three smugglers from the first group scramble to respond, instincts kicking in as they draw their weapons, but the swift, guerrilla tactics of the Fremen catch them off-guard. Meanwhile, the two smugglers who flanked the rear are caught in shock, realizing too late the trap they’ve walked into.
The atmosphere is thick with the shouts of men, the sounds of blaster fire, and the thumping of hearts beating in adrenaline-fueled panic. The battle against the unforgiving desert has begun, as the Fremen fight to protect their land and the precious spice that is their lifeblood. The sand truck, once a potential treasure trove for the smugglers, has become the stage for a deadly confrontation between two worlds—one driven by greed and the other by survival.
Using his knowledge of Sandcraft, Borak seems to blend with the dunes as he approaches the sniper on the ridge of the dune. As the marksman lays down on the crest of the dune Borak knows that he cannot permit the rifleman to fire upon his fellows. Moving to where Dune's bright sun shines down on the back of the shooter, he shifts from the shadow of the dune, attacking the shooter with his father's blade, causing the blaster to go off prematurely.
Taking full advantage of their catching the riders flat footed, Kasit let his crysknife fly. The field projector on his wrist hummed to life, powered as it was by being charged throughout the day in the sun. The knife was a work of art, for when it hit a target, it was drawn eerily towards the next closest foe, only for the knife to be retracted to his waiting hand. It took skill to ensure that it did what he wanted, but a lifetime of hardship had trained him well. Which was unfortunate for the men standing before him.
HI all Init Monkey here,
So the fight is one, Surprise round to players
I will wait until everyone has posted. three left to do so.:)