Change the gaame, elite warrior: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (5, 6) + 1 = 12
Grox is firing in tight, concentrated bursts, his mind more settled now that he is back under fire he can understand. His stormtrooper experience kicking in, Grox notices the signs of the titan gearing up to fire, he closes his eyes for the key instant and is back firing with barely a pause.
As the chimera negotiates its way around a crater, Grox spots the area cleared by the titan, offering a clear path ahead.
" Yee haw, the titan has smashed the bunker. Bring us round, 100m right of centre and floor it, clear path ahead."
The path signposted, Grox focuses back on clearing the trenches to the side of the path and preventing and close assault.
Some sort of tag like Clear path ahead? For moving ahead.
Short burst vs 33+10 range: 1d100 ⇒ 58
Feeling the heat permeating through the weapon, Grox has paused in firing, but the Lieutenant's doubt and Thud'dr's urging convince him it's time to take risks. Placing his unpowered power fist between his face and the weapon, Grox fires off a short burst aiming as best he can through the fingers of his ceramite fist. The shots fly wild though.
Rising panic in his voice, Grox keeps swiveling the lasgun in it's mounting. "Uh LT are we shooting this warp trickery or leaving it alone, only it looks like us!"
WP vs 41: 1d100 ⇒ 67
As Dreamer 2dof
Short burst vs 33+10 range?: 1d100 ⇒ 18 3dos
Damage 1: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Damage 2: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Damage 3: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Aiming for the pink ones throwing fire around, Grox fires another short controlled burst hoping to remove the threat. "Incoming! Get ready for it to get close and personal in here!"
Short burst vs 33+10 range?: 1d100 ⇒ 12 3dos because in 1st range increment
dmg 1: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
dmg 2: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
dmg 3: 1d10 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
His attention brought to the gibbering horrors by the discharge of weapons, Grox swivels the lasgun in it's mount, coming round to fire a short full auto burst into the mass of flickering chaotic horror. It's hard to miss with so many small creatures and all his shots land.
Awareness +10 vs31: 1d100 ⇒ 42 2dof
Grox continues looking out through the gun sights, but in such a confusing new landscape he fails to identify anything that is out of place.
Fear vs 41: 1d100 ⇒ 56
60 as discussed with GOW, pass 1dos from all the boosts
This was unnerving, wrong, had it been normal things, well normal battlefield things, Grox could have coped easily, he had been brought up for that, trained for that. But this...definitely wrong. Had he been alone, this might have gone differently, Grox's mind was just heading off to a small corner of his brain to rock, cry and hide, when the ogryn's pure, simple piety caught his attention. Slowly his brain pushed the weirdness of the place aside, now focusing on the sergeant's words and his will reasserted itself, just in time to see Dreamer hit the floor.
"You OK Buddy, Dreamer, you ok"
Scholam training kicking in, Grox is scanning for threats and relying on those others not at a weapon slot to check on Dreamer.
Grox elbows Dreamer, indicates the Lt and drops a wink and a grin before pitching his voice low " Heat and pressure, add a bit of moisture and my iron rod doesn't stay hard long, it makes a mess not steel!" with a little laugh at his own joke he continues, "You ready for this mate, you done this before?"
" What, That noise is one of ours, the enemy stuff sounds different. Nothing to get your self in a twist over." Slowly moving to the other hull mounted lasgun he takes a look through the weapon sights, before letting out a low whistle
"It's a big'un that's for sure!
Will 41+30: 1d100 ⇒ 3
Years in the scholam have left Grox secure in the knowledge that if he can't see or do anything about it, then there is no point worrying about it! In fact he looks so relaxed that anymore so and he would be asleep.
The Lieutenant's shout cuts through the general chaos and Grox finishes clipping up the last catches on his carapace, "Damn it feels good to have proper solid plates on again" .[b]"Right Dreamer, we best get on our ride, otherwise we'll be walking AND facing a balling out from the sergeant" Grabbing his gear, Grox heads for the chimera, stowing his kit, taking the hot seat by the door and then commencing final checks on his weapons.
So I think this should be against 20 for a private before rarity
Requisition Riot shield average therefore 20: 1d100 ⇒ 87
Requisition Frag grenades common therefore 30: 1d100 ⇒ 52
Nope, ah well got my carapace.
Is that a roll for random stuff then?
"Cheers Dreamer, like I said, hopefully I'll just leave it to you, but we all know how badly things can go wrong, and it might just come in handy. Luckily this fist of mine is pretty good for smashing up even armoured things, I just need to get close enough."
Throwing a big thumbs up and grin at Leni, Grox taps Dreamer on the shoulder, points to the two of them and pretends to fire a tube, before putting a bit of space between them and the ogryns. When he can raise his voice to be heard, he shouts in Dreamer's ear. " Go on then, show us the basics, whilst we wait. I'll leave it to you if I can, but you never know! I might at least be able to load for you"
"Yes sarge, he's had me filling in some forms for kit, was trying to figure out how many extra frags I could ask for. I can't use my lasgun much when this fist is fired up, but I have a good throwing arm."
Grox turned to look at the massive unit of an ogryn, he had seen ogryns before but it was a different experience when one looked like he was only a couple of steps away from giving the sergeant a hug, particularly when this one had the reputation he did. Patting the ogryn on the arm companionably he blanched slightly and the thick slabs of muscle and at how far as a tall man he still had to reach up" Hi big lad, yes, I'm with you and sergeant Leni now, we can get some good smashing done yes?"
Chuckling over the interaction between Private Drips and the Ogryn, he answers up to his nickname. "Yeah that's right, on account of how I much i eat and definitely nothing to do with me being a grumpy fracker. As for the tube I'd give it a go, can't be that hard right, but no not trained as such."
Ambling up with the form mostly filled in, Grox looks up about to ask a question and spots the sergeant has joined the group. Snapping back into military discipline, he marches up neatly and throws a salute. "Sergeant Tivnan I presume, Private Hastings reporting from medbay, I believe I saw you in there sarge, didn't realise they'd stuck the docs on the front line too now! Can't say its a bad thing though, less ditance for someone to carry me!"
Requesting from the LT:
Riot shield - average
Bolt pistol rounds (some? Not loads it's a single shot weapon!) - rare
Carapace armour (or at least breastplate)- scarce
Frag grenades - common
"Yes Sir"
After executing a smart dismiss action, Grox goes to move off and fill in the paperwork, but catches himself and , jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the sleeping Thud'dr "Sir, did you say the big lad is joining us! I really hope so, I've heard a lot about him, and he sounds fun"
"That's right sir, like it up close and personal sir. I've been assigned to you straight from the medbay sir, still got some of their confetti jammed up under this flak vest, but it's all who can fight assigned to units for this one, not that I had much intention of missing out!" a happy and vicious grin crosses his face before a look of sheepishness joins it. " Sir, I'm feeling a little 'light' without me ol' carapace and kit, plus I haven't found my way round this regiment's way of doing things yet, any chance someone could help me see if I can get a couple of things? Mostly looking for a riot shield for breach and clear stuff, or a carapace breastplate, my old one had a big old bit of shrapnel sticking through it when they cut it off me. Spare bolt shells for Ol' Betsy here and spare frags for that breach and clear stuff again?"
A large man, who looks possibly part Catachan and certainly not from Serenus, moves easily into the area occupied by the others. His kit is all brand new, still-creased from the stores, except for the power fist attached to his left arm, which wears several scratches that seem to have been patched with a basic paint job.
The brand new kit seems at odds with the soldier wearing them, his weather-beaten face, scarred arms and old military tattoos giving him away as 'experienced'!
Looking around slowly he eventually spots the LT, watches him ball out another soldier before hurrying over, coming to a perfect salute, eyes sighted 6 inches over the LTs head, as only a product of the scholam progenium can.
"SIR, Trooper Hastings, I mean sorry sir, PRIVATE Hastings looking for Lieutenant MacCammon or Sergeant Tivnan, am I in the right place SIR!"
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