[OW] Die Hards: Eleventh Hour

[Steel Company]

With the rope up, she went over and collected some of the thicker vines, tying the ropes and vines together before around her, she took a deep breath and walked up to Lughead as she spoke in a sweet almost motherly tone to him, “Hey buddy, can you hold on to this end of the ropes and vines for me while I try to cross this gap and tie it up on the other end so we can get across?”

 

Breathing a sigh of relief as the mighty Ogrin took hold of the collection of ropes and vines before she started walking to the edge of the rock wall. Taking a deep breath to center herself before dropping everything but her rifle, she placed a hand and boot onto a hand hold and foot hold before starting to move across.

 

OOC:

Athletics Check +0

TN: 15

Altherics roll: 1d100 13

 

She could feel her hands slipping in some spots on the wet rocks, her boots slipping in a couple of spot, looking skywards she offered a wordless thanks to the Emperor for Lughead and his attentiveness with the ropes to keep her from falling.

 

Once on the other side, she found a thick heavy tree and attached one end of the rope to it, before retrieving the ropes from the other side and begun to set up a simple sling to help pull people across the rope.

 

Ooc:

Survival check?

TN: 15, untrained skill

Survival Role: 1d100 17

Fail, unless modifiers push it out past that. If needed will spend a fate point to make it a pass by raising the target number by 10.

 

Trusting in her rope and knot skills, she crawled onto the rope leading back across the gap, locking her ankles around the top of the rope and pulling herself along it back to the other side, knowing full well that this display may give a clue to what she used to do, something she had been going to great lengths to keep to herself.

 

OOC:

If check required

Athletics Check

TN: 15 base, untrained skill

Altherics roll: 1d100 14

Edited May 4, 2020 by Steel Company

[Commissar Molotov]

GM: Apologies for the delay in posting - here goes...

 

The former Storm Trooper is able to traverse the yawning gulf, having fashioned a framework of ropes to allow the squad to be shuttled across. Judge nods with satisfaction.

 

"That'll do. Good job."

 

"What order are we sending people across in?" 

[Steel Company]

Scarlett ran a hand through her hair as she started to put her body armour and kit back on, her brow knitting together as she thought on Judge’s question. With a heavy sigh she answered over her shoulder, “You and Whisper should go first, I follow along after. Then it should be Wild Eyes, Stims, Nearly and Walker… Last should be Lughead, if only for the reason if the ropes slip or he slips it’ll take most of us to hold the ropes.”

 

Snugging together the straps she looked over the squad as she asked, “Anyone against that order?”

Edited May 12, 2020 by Steel Company

[Beren]

Stimms looks up from where he's left an eclectic mix of non-vital gear scattered across the road. It would be their kind of infernal luck for them to leave them piled up all neat, have them survive the bombardment without a scratch, then for a Comissar to stumble across them and launch a full fledged investigation in who exactly had abandoned their God-Emperor blessed equipment in the middle of nowhere.

 

"Not from me. I was going to suggest Lug'ed out to go last anyway... just need to make sure Walker gets him to understand to hold on like hell, but not to pull at anything too hard."

[Commissar Molotov]

 

The squad moves at Scarlet's recommendation - Judge and the blinded Whisper heading out across the rockface, then Scarlet herself. 

 

As Nearly crosses the bridge, there is the sudden creaking and cracking of rope - but not the ropes that Scarlet set up. 

 

Those of you with the wherewithal look up, to see the debris choked up in the waterfall raining down on the crossing. It makes sense, now, why the bridge was torn apart. The netting holding the debris back is cut loose, and you realise that you are in the midst of an ambush. If not, the sound of heavy Ork weaponry makes it abundantly clear. 

 

You hear Nearly shout with surprise, anger and fear, before he is lost to the crashing water of the falls below. 

 

COMBAT - ROUND ONE

Orks surprise the Guardsmen

 

Ork A: Shoota -

Half-Action Aim and then a Standard Attack against Lughead: BS47: 29 (HIT) 

Shoota does 1D10+4 Damage: 5 (9) 

Lughead has TB7 and Armour 4: 0 Damage Sustained 

 

 

Ork B: Shoota -

Half-Action Aim and then a Standard Attack against Scarlet: BS47: 7 (HIT)

Shoota does 1D10+4 Damage: 9 (13)

Scarlet has TB3 and Armour 4:  6 Damage Sustained

 

 

Ork C: Shoota -

Half-Action Aim and then a Standard Attack against Stimms: BS47: 77 (MISS) 

 

 

Ork D: Shoota -

Half-Action Aim and then a Standard Attack against Judge: BS47: 3 (HIT) 

Shoota does 1D10+4 Damage: 3 (7) 

Judge has TB3 and Armour 4: 0 Damage Sustained 

 

 

 

Roll initiative for the second round of combat..! 

[Steel Company]

Ooc:

Initive roll: 1d10+3 8

Going on 8 it seems,

 

Wounds 9/15

Fate 9/10

Actions for round 2

Half move to cover

Standard attack

 

She could feel something wasn’t right as soon as her boots touched down on the grass on the other side, but it was the searing pain in her side that brought her around to what was wrong. Gritting her teeth together she made a quick dash behind one of the thicker trees.

 

Placing the palm of her left hand down to the warm wet spot she could feel against her skin, she saw some blood, cursing to herself for being sloppy like this, she was never this sloppy on deployments with D-82, more involuntarily she muttered out, “I would love to have my carapace armour right about now…”

 

Taking a deep breath, she leaned out from behind the safety of the tree to draw a line on the Green Skin that had landed a shot….

 

Ooc:

BS test: Single shot as per OW rule book

TN: 62 (BS 42+10 single shot +10 short range)

BS test: 1d100 52 Pass, just…

Location: 25; Left arm

Las Gun, middle power setting as per pervious post

DMG: 1d10+4 (1d10+3 +1 from middle power setting, uses 2 shots)

Lasgun damage: 1d10+4 6

Pen: 0

 

If attack landed, but did nothing:

 

Gritting her teeth together as she saw the shot land harmlessly against the Green Skin’s left arm, she ducked back behind the tree and dialed the power setting up to maximum, getting ready for her next shot.

 

If attack landed, but did damage:

 

Frowning a little she ducked back behind the tree while continuing to mutter, “I could so use my Hotshot gun right now…”

 

If attack missed:

 

Ducking behind the tree Scarlett sighed as she said, “Join the army they said, see the worlds of the Imperium they said… maybe the convent life would’ve been better…”

[Beren]

Stimms has his pack shouldered when the shooting starts. Bulbous green shapes seem to bulge out from the water, their bellowing drowning out the fall's own roar. Stuttering light blazes from their hands.

 

That's all Stimms manages to see before a shot cracks into the ground next to him, then he's sprinting to the cliff face and swearing as he does so, watching for any rocks they might try to drop on him in the process.

 

OC:

​Initiative Roll- 1d10+3 = 2+3 = 5

[Mazer Rackham]

+ ONLY WAR +

 

++ DIE HARDS: ELEVENTH HOUR ++

 

PART II: Sink or Swim

 

 

Squad Disposition (Per Part I)

 

• "Judge" Platoon Commander
• "Nearly" (DECEASED)
• "Scarlet" (Steel Company) Former Storm Trooper | Character Sheet
• "Lughead" (Fenrykus) Ogryn Heavy Weapon Specialist | Character Sheet
• "Walker" Lughead's Companion
• "Stimms" (Beren) Medicae | Character Sheet
• "Wide-eyes" Stimms' Companion
• "Whisper" (Wounded - Blinded)
• "Dagger" (DECEASED - PT 2)
• "Toaster" (DECEASED)
• "Twelvetoes" (DECEASED)

What awaits our heroes in the next Chapter?

Can the Legionaries survive the Orkoid ambush?

Tune in soon, to the same time, same channel!

 

 

++ THE EMPEROR PROTECTS ++

[Mazer Rackham]

Moon of Horon - Terullian Sub, Dalthus Sector c.920.M41

Grid Ref: 2345-4590-2MN (The Emerald Falls).

 

Time Until Naval Bombardment: 09:58:37

 

T

he damned Orks continue to strafe the hapless squad below, their crude weapons ripping the jungle to pieces, chewing leaves and bark of the trees, spattering amber coloured sap over everything.  Splinters pepper your bodies and hurriedly shielded faces as you fight your way along the rocky scarp, trying to shelter from as much of the gunfire as possible, and given energy by the mockery of the cackling above.  You are obviously sport for these Xenos brutes.

 

It is then that you hear it, the screaming of intakes as something burns through the sky, and the rush of air being torn by a rapidly descending object not mean to borne aloft by anything other than brute force.  There is a terrific tearing of tree canopy, a slashing crunching noise and suddenly the shape explodes into view, spewing fire and fuel out behind it.  It is an Imperial Guard Valkyrie, and it is in dire peril.

 

Those amongst you who have seen or served with such aircraft may find the sight more jarring than most, a magnificent bird speaerd by cannon, her carcass rent and bleeding.  Others may not care at all, because survival is beyond all concern for the machine's graceless condition.

 

It slams, in a giant bellyflop, crunching over the top of the falls where the Orks are still shooting, ripping them up almost with mighty talons, before discarding their pulverised remains into the torrents below along with tons of soil and smashed timber.

 

That is not all.

 

A great creak gives out from the rock face, and pebbles begin to rain down on those still crossing, becoming a rain of stone that becomes heavier.

 

And heavier.

 

Just as an exercise in dice rolling and to try build a bit of tension, (and character interaction) would the players please roll Agility or Strength for their companions who are crossing the cliff face.  I will roll for Lughead until Fenrykus reports in.

[Beren]

Stimms hissed in frustration from where he had his back against the cliff-face as the hail of stones intensified. The Ork's demise was a stroke of God-Emperor blessed luck, but the bastard always seemed ready to personally remind the Medicae that he was watching him, and he was harder to fool than most. You sell to a pilot one time, and of course the bloody idiot is going to crash his ship ontop of your tent.

 

Nah, if the God-Emperor actually watched him he'd be dead already. More likely this was just his grox-fething luck.

 

"MOVE! MOVE!," he shrieked at Wide-eyes and whichever idiots had been foolish enough to be caught on the wrong side of this mess. Afterwards he sprinted straight for the falls, not even sparing a glance backwards.

 

 

 

Stimms:

Ag 35

D100 = 39 

 

Wide-eyes:

Ag 35

D100 = 8 (2 DoS)

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Stimms:

 

Perhaps your blasphemy does indeed reach the ears of the Emperor, because as you sprint pell-mell onwards, a fist sized lump of soot-blacked stone thumps into your shoulder, but although it feels painful, your understanding of the human body lets you know it will come out only in a bruise.

 

Die-Hards:

 

Wide-eyes slips along the rock face with great dexterity, the concentration on his face obvious, until he makes it to safety on the other side.  The others cling on desperately, as the rocks fall and everyone tries not to die.  Judge and Whisper take shelter under an outcrop, the platoon commander barking instructions to the blind man.  Lughead grips the cliff face, the boulders bouncing from his flak-armour.

 

"Der sky is fallin'!" he shouts, although it is in an odd, playful way as he moves with a speed belying his bulk.  He is soon safe across.

 

As the squad regroups on the safe side of the crevasse, the rushing, pounding water is the only sound to be heard, and as Lughead turns his head to call to Dagger, he lets out a strange, almost child-like moan.

 

Dagger's head is a red ruin, dashed and pulverised no doubt by the bigger rocks striking the Ogryn.  

 

He is the only casualty.

 

Judge looks on, his scarred face dark, unreadable.  "Get him down, check your kit, then circle up in five."

 

I'll pause here now for catch-up posts and for the squad to take a breath, deal with Dagger's demise, and discuss the loss of two comrades between themselves.

Edited September 11, 2021 by Mazer Rackham

[Steel Company]

As she leaned around the rock that she was using for cover, Scarlett felt her heart sink at seeing the downed Valkyrie. Every instinct in her told her to run for the craft, to see if anyone survived the crash, she knew those birds were tough and that if people were strapped in they might live. Yet it was the smallest of rocks starting to come down and with the timely cry of Stimms that had pulled her back to the here and now.

AGI Test: 1d100 8 Pass with 2 DoS

With practiced precision, that might have reviled a little of her background, Scarlett moved with grace and speed, not common to the Guard, as she made her way to cover. Once the slide had finished having its way with the area, she still fought the urge to go and check on the Valkyrie.

"Get him down, check your kit, then circle up in five." The voice of Judge came, again pulling her back to the here and now.

Sighing inwardly, she moved over towards the hulking Lughead as she said in a soft tone to him, “Ease now big guy, let me get Digger down, alright?”

She waited for the brute to nod before she took out her utility knife and cut the straps off of Lughead, letting the ruined meat hit the ground. With quick hands, she removed his tags, ammunition, rations, and rifle, handing out what she could to the remaining squad. With that done, Scarlett moved to the exit point, taking a sip from her canteen and looking to Judge as she says to him, “Ready to go when you are.”

[Beren]

Fixing a grimace to his face, Stimms knelt down by Dagger's corpse and made a fastidious display of respectfully rearranging the Penal Legionairre's corpse, laying it out straight and crossping its limp arms in the sign of the aquila atop its chest.

 

"May the God-Emperor greet you 'afore his throne," he muttered, just loud enough to be heard by the others. Raising to his feet, and with an impression of sorrow on his face, he nods at Judge.

 

"I s'pose it's best we keep at it."

 

Truth be told, he'd had to stop himself from laughing at the expression on the dumb brute's face.

[Mazer Rackham]

Judge examines Scarlet's wound and the body in the same withering glance.

 

"Let's get on with it then," Judge said, no emotion in his tone.  He pulled his rucksack off and knelt over it, eyeing the surroundings and the distance.  From the vantage point of the Emerald Falls, the landscape drops away into the marshes and jungle woodlands leading to a silver thread in the distance, almost on the horizon.

 

"The Sawtooth River," he whispered.  He ran his thumb over the map, looked at the mountain path leading through and down.

 

The plaintive cries reach your ears.

"Help!  Throne, is anyone there?" the voice is cultured, possibly a blue-blood officer.  It's also hysterical.

 

It's coming from the summit, perhaps 200m up.  Judge looks around, as strings of smoke carry down the mountain.  Along with rotting vegetation, and the stink of Ork spores, comes the distinct scent of crisping human flesh and singed hair.

 

"We can't spare the time.  Unless there are volunteers?"

 

It's clear there's a long march ahead, and a clock is ticking.

Edited September 11, 2021 by Mazer Rackham

[Steel Company]

Doing the quick math in her head Scarlett offers out, "I can check it out, but if it gets too rough or takes too much time I'll abort."

 

She goes over to look at the map before saying, "Either way, I'll try and link up with you here, at this point along the river. If I'm not there in two hours, don't wait."

[Mazer Rackham]

"Looks good.  Have Stimms look at that wound before you earn a stretcher."

 

Judge shrugs on his pack and steps up to Whisper, speaking slowly.  "Steep drops up ahead, keep your hand on my shoulder.  Wide-eyes, you're on point."

 

"Me?" the Legionnaire looks sheepish, as though he's about to try and wheedle out of it.

 

"Yes, fething you."

 

As birdsong returns to the Emerald Falls, Judge follows Wide-Eyes as he sets off at a good steady pace that will soon eat up the miles.

[Steel Company]

Scarlett moves over to Stimms, and exposes the wound she took from the orks as she says to him, "Just do the minimum, you need to keep up."

[Beren]

Stimms hastily rummages through his kit for his medicae tools as he shuffles over to Scarlett.

 

"A'right then, gimme a look and I'll see how much I can do for ya."

 

As he gets to work, he throws a glance over his shoulder at Wide-eyes. If the trooper ran out, or got watched too closely, he might start to come down hard on the trek out of here. That might be a problem.

 

Dice roll if required-

Int 40 + Experienced Medicae 20 + Medkit 20 = 80 before further modifiers.

d100: 37 (4 DoS)

Edited September 11, 2021 by Beren

[Mazer Rackham]

The air of the Emerald Peaks begins to thicken on the way down the ridgeline.  The granite is stained with dark with runoff from the mountains above, and clutches of lichen and moss are growing in the crevices.  It is peaceful after the tumult of noise you previously experienced, and the ninety-nine percent of pure boredom the Imperial Guard promised you has come to fruition - or at least for the able-bodied.

 

For Whisper, every step is a precipitous nightmare, that much is obvious.  His gasps as he steps lower than he perceived from Judge's careful negotiation of the winding, natural rock staircase is proof enough.  Every minute that he inhales or swipes the sweat from his brow with his free hand is taking a toll.  Lughead, for all his ungainliness is perhaps taking the best approach, his back rammed against the cliff face, ripper gun clutched in both hands, he steps as though at a dance, a crustacean gait that seems so metronomic he's marking the time.

 

The symbols and military markings on Judge's map that you can recall say that you are approaching the lines of the 101^st, who should be dug into the jungle in their trenches and lines, but even from this altitude, there is a pall of grey smoke wafting up through the jungle trees, commingling with the mists and lending a strange green haze to the swamps beyond.

 

The scent of vegetation and stagnant water begin to stain the clean mountain air as Wide-eyes suddenly stops and sags against the rock face.  There is by your calculation another half an hour of careful negotiation before on the safety of the ground, and hopefully the One-oh-one's motor pool of Chimeras.  The sturdy rock face is a solid, reassuring bulk to your left-hand side, whilst nothing but a void fills your right.

 

"What's wrong?" Judge demands of the pointman.

 

"I...I..." he starts visibly shaking.

 

Cheers Beren!

 

If you want to help him out, might have to get creative...

Edited September 11, 2021 by Mazer Rackham

[Beren]

Stimms gritted his teeth in a genuine grimace, though he didn't quite lose enough control to vocalise his irritation. That grox-fething son of blight-weevil, why in the God-Emperor's dominion did the bastard have to pick now. He'd known it might be rough, but this was borderline suicide.

 

Maybe he should spend more time with the priests. Just until he got His eyes off his back.

 

"Wide-eyes! Wide-eyes, do ya hear me? Just stay still, don't try to talk-" Don't you fething dare try and talk you bastard- "I'm going to be with you, just as sure as He'll greet us by his Throne when our time is up-" Which'll be real soon if you don't do as I fething say.

 

Stimms took a deep breath in, a deep breath out, desperately attempting to concoct some kind of cover story.

 

"I think his anaesthetic's worn off!"

 

Not giving anybody else the time to question him further, Stiims turns to the Ogrynn, squinting nervously at the abhuman's fce.

 

"A'right Lughead..."

 

Stimms pauses as something occurs to him.

 

"Lughead, do you think you could pick me up, gently like, with one hand, then pass it to the other hand, then put me down on the other side?"

 

The medic leans round until he can get a glance at Walker, gesturing to the handler to try and help him with the explanation.

[Mazer Rackham]

Stimms:

 

The brute looks down, first at you, his gums working as his brain catches up, before looking to Walker, his ever-present translator for a world beyond his ken.

 

Walker rolls his eyes.  "Lug...I need you to pick up Stimms here."  He points, "and put him down next to me.  Wide-Eyes is in trouble, and if we don't help, we won't get down off this rock."

 

"But I like it 'ere," the abhuman grins, "lotsa space!"  He throws his arms wide, nearly squashing Walker against the cliff face with his ripper gun, and nearly clobbering you with the other, meaty ball of a fist.

 

"Carful Lug!" Walker grunts as his feet slip and spill a handful of gravel over the side.  No noise emanates as it plummets away below.

 

The Ogryn seems to realise his mistake and looks sheepish.  "I's sorry."

 

Carefully, the Ogry puts down his ripper gun and slips both his hands under your arms, testing your weight.  For a peanut of a brain, he seems to have a grasp on practical application at least.  He makes sure he's got you, and lifts you very carefully, but dreadfully slowly, out over the sheer drop.  The weight of your combat boots tug at your ankles and you realise how much you actually weigh.

 

"Uh, uh..." the Ogryn goes to take his left hand off you, almost as though he's forgotten what he's doing.

 

Walker is right there.  "Feth's sake Lug!"   He scratches the large nose, and the Ogryn sighs.

 

The Ogryn puts you down on Walker's side carefully as placing a delicate ornament, and turns to pick at his massive nostril, rooting around until he pulls out something grotesque, before it disappears into his broad, fanged mouth.  There is chewing.

 

Walker steps back enough to let you by, and Whisper is already gripping the rock from his earlier instruction.  The sweat a sheen on his skin.

 

"For feth's sake," Judge growls, jerking his head at Wide-Eyes.  "Sort him out before I toss the bastard over."

 

Steel, go ahead and write up narrative for Scarlet, describing her climb.  The peaks are reasonably easy to mantle and there are plenty of hand-holds, stunted trees near the falls, making most of the vapour etc.  At the summit you'll find a crashed Valkyrie, the wreck creaking over the falls below.  Feel free to describe the scene.  All the crew are dead except for one man in a naval uniform, who is trapped.  Once you're there, I'll move you on.

Edited September 12, 2021 by Mazer Rackham

[Beren]

Stimms shuffles past his comrades, muttering apologies as he does so. When he gets to Wideeyes, he bends down next to him, placing a hand in a clamp-like grip on his comrade's shoulder.

 

"See, you're gonna be fine, just like I told ya."

 

The medic makes a show of shuffling throughout his medical supplies, removing a syringe nestled innocuasly among the others. He turns back to Wide-eyes, placing the needle against his arm.

 

"This should dull the pain, but its the last I've got. Just hold on until we get back to base, and I'll try and get you fixed up best I can, alright?"

 

Stimms slaps his 'patient' on the shoulder and makes to stand.

[Mazer Rackham]

Moon of Horon - Terullian Sub, Dalthus Sector c.920.M41

Grid Ref: 0045-1980-3.4MN (Firebase Condor, Front Line of the 101^st).

 

Time Until Naval Bombardment: 09:14:03

 

The mountains rear up to your back, the treacherous zig-zagging scar of the natural stair just a pale scar against the granite peaks.  This is the start of the swamplands, miles and miles of festering, stagnant water, thick with rotting trees and bark, snapping predators and insects that not even Lughead would chew.  It is also the front line of the Imperial Army, or at least the one command recognises.

 

Yet the scene, which would usually be hustle and bustle in an evacuation is still, the stench of fyceline hanging low, noxiously thick in the mist turned smog.  No sentries, no calls of alarm or barking orders.  As you cut through the trees, sawing with bayonets, or ripping the fronds down with your bare hands, the scene is one of chaos.  Smashed sandbag parapets, the bodies of Legonnaires scattered, hurled ragdolls, limbs and necks broken at odd angles.  Hulking greenskins stuck with several bayonets, and above it all the crackling of a vox-set  that sounds like it's coming from the command post at the centre of the trench lines and firing pits.

 

Busted lasguns and crushed defences now only guard corpses.

 

The Chimeras you hoped to ride in are gone, and an Ork fighta-bomma is burning in the swamp.

 

Judge whispers so quietly you almost think you didn't hear him.  "What do you think?"

 

Feel free to add as much description as you wish.  All players have been in this forward base before, so you will know where the medical dugout will be, as well as any other specialist areas, although it is unlikely much will be left behind to replenish any stocks.  Say, 1D3 of any given specific item.  1D6 chemicals or materials to make more advanced kit (inc bandages).  Perhaps there are "clients" or comrades to find - or perhaps a quiet spot to have a word with someone now there's a distraction...

[Steel Company]

Watching her squad depart, Scarlett turned her attention to her climb, slinging her rifle over her shoulder and putting a hand into the first handhold she could reach. As she started to climb, something familiar and welcoming to be able to rely on her training in the Tempestus, a simple bit of muscles memory, but a welcomed one. Reaching for the next handhold and starting to put a little weight onto it, the rock came loose, letting go and going for a second lower handhold she continued on her climb as she repeated to herself, “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.”

Moving with a controlled skill, Scarlett crested the climb, only popping her head over the edge to scan the area, just seeing the downed Valkyrie she made the final push to get up topside as she looked up at the tails, to see the marking of the 114th Naval Ordnance Corps. Her lips pressed together as she sighed out to herself, “Well, at least I know they’re still scouting for bombardment.”

Making her way over to the bird, she checked the cockpits first, but from how the crew was leaning forwards she knew she didn’t need to check on them, pressing her back against the nose she made her way to the rear compartment where the calling out was coming from, bringing her rifle around and up she slowly leaned around the fuselage to look in and see an officer in the uniform of a Midshipmen. Slinging her rifle again she called out to him, “We gotta move, Sir, I’ll cut you down and we can double-time to catch up with the squad.”

[Mazer Rackham]

Scarlett:

 

The Midshipman looks at you, as though something he's just been imagining is real.

"Oh, thank the God-Emperor!  Quickly soldier - this whole area is going to be blown to bits any moment!"

 

It is possibly amazing that the impact hasn't jarred the silver spoon from his mouth.