Hey Sean! I just wanna verify that this is what you are going with? I introduced the two of us, and held my hand out, and you are leaving me hanging, yeah? Just wanna make sure this is what you intended.
Ah, no. My apologies, I somehow missed that. Sean is certainly not that standoffish. If anything, a bit too naive to be that cagey thus far.
Mal Steelcutter wrote:
As he glances at the other passenger in the car he takes an instant liking to the man. Something about the man's efficient build and aura of...danger...reminded him of himself. And if there was anyone he liked working with, it was himself.
He wasn't sure what it was, but something inside him made him want to scream 'Top of the Mornin' to ya!' at the newcomer, but he dismissed the impulse.
"Hi friend. I'm Mal. Steelcutter. This here's my partner in crime, infractions, misconduct, wrongdoing, and general transgressions against polite society, Vinny!
Pleased to meet ya!" He offers his hand for shaking.
Sean takes the proffered hand with a firm grip and glances from one to the other naming them as he does, seeming to cement their faces in his mind, "Mal. Vinny." Sean's head twitches slightly as if restraining a glance at the silent woman with whom he initially shared the cab.
It does not seem that he is really trying it on, but Mal can tell he is quite a bit stronger than his lean build would indicate, "And so it is that the pleasure is mine, to be sure. Sean Doyle, I be, and newly arrived in the city just last night."
Sean nods to Bill the Cabbie, retrieves his two bags, and follows the others inside. He sets his bags nearby as he takes a seat at the bar, "Greetings to ye, Sherrif Matheson. Sean Doyle at yer service. I'll have a nip o' the same, if its no bother."
You have it almost right, Rizzen, The thing that slipped is that, unless he has a special rule that supercedes the general rule, your BBEG cannot attempt to dodge more than one. single. attack. per round.
And unless there is a special rule in place for him that supercedes the general rule, the BBEG cannot attempt to parry ranged attacks.
It does not matter how many actions a character has. You can only attemps one. single. dodge. per round.
A dodge can be used against any attack, but you can only parry melee attacks unless either a) you have a feature that says you can parry ranged attacks, or b) the ranged attack says you can parry it.
Also, ranged attacks are usually more dangerous, so if someone shoots at you with an MD rifle, save your dodge for that one.
So I have a possible suggestion. Since you have been talking about using block intiative (PCs all go, then NPCs all go), you can do block actions as well.
So you describe NPC actions, declare attacks, and make rolls.
Then the players declare dodges, parries, etc, make rolls, post their own attacks and actions, and make their rolls for that.
Then you make rolls for the NPC dodges and parries, describe combat narrative, new NPC actions and attack rolls.
Trace deftly steps aside from the first attack and smacks the second out wide, but all his effort leave him exposed and the third strike opens a narrow gash in his shoulder.
Undaunted, he retaliates with a flurry of slashes, his vibro-claw humming.
Sorry for being a ghost lately. This is not showing up in my games yet. I am gonna dot the gameplay page so it does.
I am pretty sure that the way you are discussing handling the pre-rolled dodge roll is not going to result in correct play.
The juicer has a feature called auto-dodge because they can freely dodge any and all attacks they are aware of. Most people can only attempt to dodge a single attack. I may be mistaken, so I will reach out to my Rifts guru to get a clarification.
I will throw my appreciation onto the we-are-all-awesome pile.
I have a sad history of almost every single PbP I have participated in ending before it even really got going. This is particularly true of my 40k games.
Thank you all for your awesome characters, your amazing RP, and for keeping this fire burning for so long. I very much value having this warm place to come and chase away the chill of mundane life.
Starting in the few seconds before the rocket strike, and continuing into the few gaps in the thunder, the miniscule less-loud moments, Krish's voice can be heard among the guardsmen huddled close. Quiet at first, and growing in volume until he is almost shouting into the deafening roar of the unleashed fury of the Imperium of Man.
"A spiritu dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Our Emperor, deliver us."
"From plague, deceit, temptation and war,
Our Emperor, deliver us.
From the scourge of the Kraken,
Our Emperor, deliver us.
From the blasphemy of the Fallen,
Our Emperor, deliver us."
"From the begetting of daemons,
Our Emperor, deliver us.
From the curse of the mutant,
Our Emperor, deliver us.
A morte perpetua,
Domine, libra nos."
"That thou wouldst bring them only death,
That thou shouldst spare none,
That thou shouldst pardon none,
We beseech thee, destroy them."
"Aye, Sergeant." Krish is two steps toward Lucky's position when the Sergeant changes his orders. Surely there would be time to patch Thudd up and still get the vox before the shells were launched? The fight could not have taken as long as it felt like...
Krish hurries to assist the medic, lending his warp-borne strength to helping her muscle the huge ogryn around. Krish takes over cutting the empty medkit case into metal strips, handing them off to her to disinfect.
As they work on the Ogryn, Krish tries to keep him distracted by reciting some of the minor Litanies to the Emperor.
*****
If Cormaeg still does not have the vox:
Once they finish with Thudd, Krish wipes his hands once more, "I have to get that vox to the Sarge." He ducks out of the portable hospital and hurries over to the twisted remains of the desk where Lucky last was. After seeing what lay partially covered in the rubble, Krish knows there is no need to check for any heartbeat. "Your luck held out to the very end, Lucky. Even in death you still served Him well."
Krish tips the wreck of the table aside in such a way as to shield his actions from full view of the rest of the squad. Grateful for the warp-borne strength that lets him quickly extract the vox unit from Lucky's dead clutches, Krish locks the tiny, screaming voice away where it cannot get out. The quiet sounds as Krish works are enough to keep the rest of the squad from looking too closely.
Once finished, he rises to his feet. With one bloody hand he retrieves his staff while holding the vox in the other. As his puffing and wheezing augmetic limits his speed, Krish calls up the stairs, "Vox is here, sergeant. Intact as far as I can tell." There is a slight catch in his voice, "Lucky did his duty well."
Krish feels much better about the current 'no bullets being shot directly at him' aspect of the situation. Rising to his feet he surveys his allies, trying to guage risk vs reward...
How many of our people are badly hurt? Is it time for another attempt at psychic heals?
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
Hearing the horses coming and the two enemies come inside to avoid them, Meridian rushes out of her hiding spot. Seeing one right in front of her, she attempts to shove him back out into the stampeding horses.
The vox receiver lights up and it takes the cogitators a moment to recognize the code. Corvus Theta Zulu series. Interesting. It is good that this one is using proper encryption protocols. Thinks Sparkswright. He orders, Respond in identical manner, establish uplink if handshake protocols are allowed.
--message begins---
In the Omnissiah's Light, greetings, Library-Captain. The "party" is not yet engaged. The local volume is currently controlled by Chaos forces including at least one Battle Barge of the Imperial Fists Iron Warriors, which you should find uploaded into your cogitators. We have recovered several ships that will be joining the Navy contingent. All other assets in the system are presumed hostile.
"ME FORTITUDINE IMPERATORI" Bellowing an invocation of the Emperor of Man at the top of his lungs, Krish draws deeply of the warp and thrusts waves of leeching power at the Nob.
Using Enfeeble at the push level...sorry if this goes badly, guys... Focus Power vs 80: 1d100 ⇒ 7. Hot Damn! 8 DoS. If he is not immune to Stun, the Nob needs to make 8 DoS on a Toughness test or be stunned for one round.
Psychic Phenomena:
1d100 ⇒ 36 = Breath Leech. 1d100 ⇒ 83 = Perils of the Warp.
Yah. Breath Leech it is...
Breath Leech:
Everyone (including the psyker) within a 3d10 ⇒ (1, 5, 6) = 12 metre radius becomes short of breath for one round and cannot make any Run or Charge Actions.
Panting, Krish staggers forward a couple of meters with his staff at the ready.
I am getting started detailing out the forces of the Blood Ravens. The void ships are mostly done, and the ground organization will be getting started later today.
As it turns out, one of the battle barges from the list I posted last week was destroyed after being used as a giant missile to kill a demon. After trading some cruisers in for barges, the Blood Ravens are left with three barges and 4 cruisers, plus escorts and reserve.
I am really rather looking forward to this.
I will also start getting to work detailing my planets this weekend.
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
Shadow, I have had a lot of fun here, and I thank you for orchestrating that. I hope you find your RL obligations easier to face, and I will hope to see you again on the forums.
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
Readied action (if allowed):
Watching as the diplomacy broke down, Not that there was really any hope of anything else, now was there.
As she hears Pink-Eye closing rapidly and the cleric begin his chanting prayer, Meridian unleashes the fire within her once more, aiming for one of the two bodyguards.
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
Though surprised by Erix's words, Meridian will bide her time a bit longer. She holds the fire within for now, ready to unleash it the moment diplomacy fails.
I hope the flavor of the cybernetic replacements are acceptable. If you want to modify the craftsmanship of the limbs that is fine with me. Even a battle-tested psyker is lucky to escape an encounter with Tyranids with his life.
Background:
Krish dreams. Vividly. He dreams often whether awake or asleep. The prelates in the Scholastica Psykana told him it would be thus for the rest of his life; it was his unique Scar of Sanctioning. No matter how long it has been, every event of his life comes back to visit him in his dreams with perfect clarity and total recall as if he was living through it again. When waking life demands his attentions, his memories are faded and distant as they should be. But when he is allowed to drift, he dreams and relives the sweetest and most horrific moments of his life.
The hills and vistas of his homeworld are among his most treasured dreams. He cannot even remember its name, though his record contains it. Mountains, valleys, and wide plains. Learning the craft of the Arbites.
The regimented life of the Scholastica Psykana. The Trials of Sanctioning. Countless hours of touching the seething maelstrom of the Immaterium.
Innumerable battles with the men and women of the Mobile Infantry. Men and women he had some to respect, to call brother and sister, and in a few cases, to love. The keen pain of loss at Duty's End.
Most often of late, he relives the terror and agony of his mutilation. The shock of seeing the Lieutenant-Psyker slain by the massive genestealer creature. Taking up the Lieutenant's force sword and having its psy-circuitry awaken to his touch. Assaulting the creature alone and knowing he was going to die. The huge genestealer holding him in is many clawed hands, and slowly, effortlessly, gleefully it seemed at the time, tearing his arm and leg off of his body. Watching in horror as it ate the stolen limbs; his limbs! The bolter shells shattering the genestealer as a trio of black-armored Astartes hove into view like avenging angels; like young gods of war. Trying to struggle into a sitting position at least, to not be seen as weak by the God-Emperor's chosen warriors. Blackness.
The blaring of the speaker jolts Krish back to full wakefulness as the boarding ramp of the lander hisses open, "Landing complete.
Standby for debarkation. The God-Emperor go with you, Soldiers."
Gathering his staff and his bag, kissing the aquila pendant around his neck, Krish stands and turns toward the door. Another world. Another regiment. More Guardsmen he will try to protect. This is why he is here. This is why he still serves. The God-Emperor protects and, as His tool, so too does Krish. Until Duty's End.
A tall, well-muscled man steps off the orbital shuttle with a small duffel slung over his back, a tall and finely crafted staff held in his left hand. Dressed in the typical traveling cloak of one of the Imperial Guard, this one wears the insignia of a Primaris Psyker on his lapel. The pocket of clear space around him as the other fresh Guardsmen avoid coming too near marks him more obviously still.
Every other step he takes is accompanied by a faint hissing sound and the crunching of metal against the gritty dirt of this latest war zone. Still not entirely accustomed to the augmetic replacement, the sound sometimes catches Krish by surprise causing a minor hitch in his gait every now and then.
Pausing to read the information on a dataslate and compare it to the camp before him, Krish finds his way to the Administratum Regimentalis compound. After standing in line for his turn at in-processing, Krish sets a coil of memory wire into the reader and thereby uploads his orders into the cogitator banks of the Serenus First Armored Regiment.
Munitorum Personal Registration Formular #0002-A-5B:
Full Name:
Krish Exeter Stammatis
Rank & Assignment:
Primaris Psyker
Insert squad assignment here
Serenus First Armored Regiment
Age:
Twenty Seven
Height:
200.66cm
Weight:
110.22kg
Eye Color:
Gold-Flecked Blue
Hair Color:
Grey (gains faint blue glow when using psychic powers)
Pre-Enlistment Life:
Entered training with the Adeptus Arbites at age of twelve.
Psychic potential discovered at age of fourteen; remanded to Adeptus Astra Telepathica.
Five years training with the Scholastica Psykana.
Aptitude for offensive powers noted, assigned to Imperial Guard.
Reason for Enlistment:
To serve the Emperor.
Completed Specialist Training:
Sanctioned through the Scholastica Psykana Calixus.
Granted designation as Savant Militant by Scholastica Psykana.
Granted designation as Primaris Psyker after extensive testing and suitability examination.
Awarded Novice Cognate for skill with Biomancy.
Awarded the Crimson Aeon for skill with Diviniation.
Additional Remarks:
Assigned to Asarkin Third Mobile Infantry Regiment for ten years.
Re-Assigned to Asarkin Fifth Mobile Infantry Regiment for two years; right arm and right leg replaced by cybernetic prosthetics after injury taken while fighting Tyranid vanguard organisms.
Re-Assigned after recovery to Serenus First Armored Regiment.
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
With a glance in the direction of the battle, I do hope the others are handling that well, Meridian moves further to the north, staying down and behind concealment as much as possible, to set for a flanking maneuver against the men around their objective.
So .. somehow I stopped getting updates for this game and I am now completely out of touch. :(
Between how busy everything at work and home has been, it took a lot longer than it should have for me to realize that The Silence had gone on a lot longer than was at all normal.
I am sorry for any of that .. I am trying to catch up and get ready to get back to posting ..
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
Trying to move quietly through the ruins, Meridian will slip out of the building she is in and move past Erix. As she passes she will speak quietly to him, "It seems someone has been breaking the glass to get at what is underneath."
Kersin concentrates everything he has into using the main turret of Requiem, the Emperor-blessed twin-linked lascannon, like a scalpel to cut the trukk-tumor free from the Salvus. Hopefully without striking anything that would cause the trukk to explode and do further damage to the Salvus. His voice is quiet as he mutters a short prayer before pressing the firing stud, "Master of Mankind, I seek to guard Your warriors. If this is your will, guide my hand. Omnissiah, be with your sacred Machine now as we work together to free one of yours from this unholy joining."
BS 42 +15 Braced -20 Called-Shot +20 Twin-Linked +10 Short Range +10 Half-action Aim +30 Size +30 Unaware = 95 -?? BS 42 + 60 max bonus = 102
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
Meridian calls on the power grafted into her blood summoning fire into her hand. With a moment's careful aiming to avoid Caelan, Meridian sends the ball of fire hurtling toward the skeleton.
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
Meridian makes a vague throwing gesture, "It is more of an attack at range than summoning the fire from a distance. It should still do the job, however. Pink Eye, let me know when your creature has completed its task."
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
Meridian removes her cloak, folding it neatly and stowing it in the wagon. Her studded leather armor glinting dully in the dim light as she began to roll her shoulders to loosen her muscles, the motions vaguely reminiscent of a cat.
Female Dragon-Touched (Brass) Warlock 4 [HP 40/40 | AC 18/13/15, Fort +3, Ref +4, Will +5 | Init +8; Perception +10 | Spells: (4/5 | 3/3)]
Meridian flexes her claws, "I can bring a mist to conceal us, I can cause myself to move rather fast, and I can summon fire and force to attack them at range. How can I best contribute?"
