Would you be cool with the idea of me playing a three-man unit of 'ankle-biters' Highly specialized anti-mech / support infantry?
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An Expedition Beyond the World: A Low Fantasy Exploration Game
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9 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
I always liked the idea of fantasy worlds set around the advent of firearms; as I find the absence of certain technologies the major reason magic finds a niche to begin with. I could just imagine it now--our group of explorers making contact with the vastly powerful shaman of a savage tribe; blasting him away with a well placed bullet mid-monologue.
The Premise
The year is 1944 and an uneasy truce binds the once warring superpowers, allied and axis forces pressed shoulder to shoulder in defiance of a common foe. Victory is beyond these brave men and women and they know it, struggle with the weight of their sacrifice. Slow the advance. Hold the line. Buy enough time for the German Uranprojekt to bear fruit. You are not among them.
You're pluckers; doubly brave and infinitely less honorable arrogators of what wealth lies behind enemy lines. The idea is simple, slip passed the military cordon and get out with as many works of art and national treasures as possible--all whilst flirting with a fate worse than death.
It's an alternate timeline. Wherein the Confederate States of America allied with a non-nazi Germany (Hitler died under a fateful hail of stones following a poorly received speech on July 1932 at Freiburg.) Though fighting was fierce an axis victory looked certain as the United Kingdom crumbled beneath a campaign of air superiority and an isolated China found itself ill prepared to resist the rapidly advancing blitzkreig. None could have predicted the events that forced the sudden worldwide armistice.
There's just no accounting for monsters.
Without the brutal pogroms that Hitler would incite there was no holocaust--but amid the countless innocents it would have claimed was subject zero: the first infectee. The sickness he spread alters the body and emotional state rendering both unstable, resulting in hideous mockeries of the men and women it consumes. Worse yet the virus itself acts much like a more potent embryonic stem cell, allowing for rapid healing and ghastly mutation. Put simply, short of utter, instant annihilation they cannot be destroyed--whereas any contact with their fluids will spread the affliction.
Players won't be making single characters but rather four to eleven member teams. (The mortality rate is so high that not all teams, let alone all members are expected to make it through each run.) As such I'll supply cut down CSs. What's more players can 'team up' to be separate elements of a larger outfit or play against one another, but everyone will be vying for the same mcguffin each round.
There will be a simple, streamlined system to determine if/when people bite the dust, since you can't actually kill the monsters you'll be encountering. Likewise you'll be able and encouraged to assail your competition.
Before each mission I'll provide intel on what you're there for, how far (in turns) it'll take to get there and back and where (which turns) you may be able to waylay other players. When each group reaches the mcguffin it's a whomever rolls highest sort of deal, at which point the challenge is not getting gunned down by the competition/devoured by mutants on your way back.
The year is 1944 and an uneasy truce binds the once warring superpowers, allied and axis forces pressed shoulder to shoulder in defiance of a common foe. Victory is beyond these brave men and women and they know it, struggle with the weight of their sacrifice. Slow the advance. Hold the line. Buy enough time for the German Uranprojekt to bear fruit. You are not among them.
You're pluckers; doubly brave and infinitely less honorable arrogators of what wealth lies behind enemy lines. The idea is simple, slip passed the military cordon and get out with as many works of art and national treasures as possible--all whilst flirting with a fate worse than death.
It's an alternate timeline. Wherein the Confederate States of America allied with a non-nazi Germany (Hitler died under a fateful hail of stones following a poorly received speech on July 1932 at Freiburg.) Though fighting was fierce an axis victory looked certain as the United Kingdom crumbled beneath a campaign of air superiority and an isolated China found itself ill prepared to resist the rapidly advancing blitzkreig. None could have predicted the events that forced the sudden worldwide armistice.
There's just no accounting for monsters.
Without the brutal pogroms that Hitler would incite there was no holocaust--but amid the countless innocents it would have claimed was subject zero: the first infectee. The sickness he spread alters the body and emotional state rendering both unstable, resulting in hideous mockeries of the men and women it consumes. Worse yet the virus itself acts much like a more potent embryonic stem cell, allowing for rapid healing and ghastly mutation. Put simply, short of utter, instant annihilation they cannot be destroyed--whereas any contact with their fluids will spread the affliction.
Players won't be making single characters but rather four to eleven member teams. (The mortality rate is so high that not all teams, let alone all members are expected to make it through each run.) As such I'll supply cut down CSs. What's more players can 'team up' to be separate elements of a larger outfit or play against one another, but everyone will be vying for the same mcguffin each round.
There will be a simple, streamlined system to determine if/when people bite the dust, since you can't actually kill the monsters you'll be encountering. Likewise you'll be able and encouraged to assail your competition.
Before each mission I'll provide intel on what you're there for, how far (in turns) it'll take to get there and back and where (which turns) you may be able to waylay other players. When each group reaches the mcguffin it's a whomever rolls highest sort of deal, at which point the challenge is not getting gunned down by the competition/devoured by mutants on your way back.
Can anyone play multiple characters?
Posted the little collab we got going, thanks again for everyone that popped in. Goes both ways of course, anyone sends something my way I'll return the favor.
Kali punctuated Traction's straightforward stratagem with a stiff rustle as she balled several fistfuls of paper wrapping together--a novella's worth of the logo laden material all that remained in living memory of her meal. "Imagine that." the nartaki flourished, driving an oddly volatile brand of sarcasm home with her many emotive hands. "Bithead's got it all lined up nice and pretty like, eh? That's just aces--give her a hand." she lowly thrummed, briefly compressing a bit of lip under tooth as she began to half-heartedly clap "Frag it, why not two?" Kali continued, banking the tightly wadded detritus off the wall and into a waiting wastebin before her other arms joined in the applause. "Eh. Wait wait wait. There's a niggle--" she tsked, tongue impacting behind less-than pearly whites with an audible thwack--the woman's freaker habit having left those smile bones slightly rouged. "So how bout' that, niggle?" she posed, addressing Damien with her stare. "Ponder a fossil the likes of you gots the goods to keep his bot buzzing level? Cause rowr--I'd put nuyen elsewise." the rough edged runner emphasized with a sharp, stretched whistling sound as she slowly lowered a fist into palm, its arrival marked by a wet, squelching razz. With eyes that betrayed little Nomad spoke "Cal Rangers are half lawmen, half showmen. I can carry you all right, might even make you look good when you tumble off after a stim patch. Hell when you're ass-over-teakettle on the ground I'll even keep the bullets downrange." Leaving no room for rebuttal the seasoned rigger pushed the world away and slipped himself into AR, snarking out a final thought."Try to wash your...everything. If you're going to be hanging onto my drone I'd rather you not rust the plating."
Kali was quick to square her shoulders and puff up like an angry blowfish--but with the former ranger otherwise indisposed lacked a target for her verbal barbs. "Yeah yeah yeah." she groused waving it off under a fusillade of non-committal gesture. "Was revving for somethin' with more gristle than this milkrun, suss?" Kali bemoaned, plucking up a disposable packet of ketchup from where it had roosted untouched atop a pile of napkins, tossing it from one idle mitt to the other. "You know me..." she started, strutting over to single Kyuzo out in turn. "Don't mind gettin' gouged but good, long as it's bloody." the resident timebomb snarled out, words weighted with lewd intentions as she bore a thumb down on the thin aluminum pocket and sent its contents spurting at the ork.
Kyuzo was hardly paying her mind only catching her actions at the last moment, allowing him to turn his head to the side to avoid most of the mess. There was a slight splatter on his cheek and this was one of those times where it was hard a battle to remain Yegor when Kyuzo's instinct tried to wrestle control. Part of him wanted to just give her a good choke but truth be told, she'd probably enjoy it to a degree. A part of him was also slightly embarrassed. Truth be told, Kali was the only female he'd ever been sexually involved with, aside from trivial high school flings that really involved one, two, or maybe three bases. Sometimes, it was hard to keep it in the forefront of one's mind that the ork was only 17. And that youth wasn't the sweet life, with silver spoons and family trips, and high school yearbooks and time spent building up your social status.
Surprisingly quick, hardly missing a beat, Kyuzo snorted and said in a tone that was as flirtatious as the Yegor persona allowed, "Ork not on menu. Least, not right now." To his credit he'd grown acclimated to these little exchanges, more Mexican standoff than the tootsies of former lovers; knowing better than anyone how quickly they could escalate. "Ain't like that, grunge. Leftovers are always on the menu." she shot back, directing a love tap into the unyielding contour of Kaz's cyberarm.
Juking by she wound her way down the hall, peeling away layers of befouled street clothes as she went and depositing them just beyond the threshold of her room, a section of the floor designated as a temporary hamper. The complete antithesis of Yegor's spartan armory of a boudoir. Without so much as closing the door she dressed down to naught but gold skin and ink, the tattoos on display pitted with a variety of scars and the ever present tanlines of her unflattering underwear. Opting against a shower the agitated hiss of an aerosol body spray rose briefly above the clatter as Kali multitasked, upending the mess around her as she hunted down a few essentials. Within moments she'd compressed herself into a sleek onepeice that didn't so much flatter her sturdy figure as exaggerate its more threatening elements; holstering eenie, meenie, miney and mo along the way. With the weighty assurance of these four revolvers one half of the team's muscle shrugged herself into a heavily fringed duster and rolled the sleeves up to the elbow. Sufficiently dolled up the gun toting ex-Delhiite swept an armful of loose rounds into her satchel and squirreled away a fire-and-forget inhaler; glancing down to the floor to steal a glimpse of herself in a shard of broken mirror as she left.
Kyuzo, being loaded up and ready to go, stood with his arms crossed. He turned his head to glare at the elevator and Traction. "Little girl is eager to run out into the shadows, especially knowing who's furthest away from bullets when they fly. You should join us. Yegor could use some good company. You won't though, statement was," the ork looked up to the corner of his eye as he feigned accessing his thesaurus, an action that was rather common. A half second later, he continued. "Rhetorical in nature. Anyway, Yegor suggest little bit of planning. Let Yegor talk to troll from docks. Get information. Yegor said, by docks, many trolls, many orks. Breeders, not so much. They make computer program that make elf look like ork, and four arm human like troll, mayhaps we're good. Yegor say, give a little time. Regardless Yegor going to talk to Ilrek and get information. You go on run without..." He gave a shrug, indicating that they were more than welcomed to go in without a plan, and without information. He moved to the elevator and stood across from her, arms crossing once again as he leaned against the wall casually.
"Just because you did not listen to or understand the plan does not mean there is not a plan. You and Cath are being sent to do exactly that while I try and pull information from any WANs and LANs in and around the warehouses." Traction deadpanned, not even deigning to so much as look at Yegor in preference for staring at some point of space between the elevator doors and call button. "Since you have trouble remembering, I'll highlight that bit for you."
Traction's eyes flickered briefly as she moved information in an unseen ARO around without even twitching. A large ARO overlay opened in front of Yegor, a line of glowing text that floated high towards the top range of his right eye's vision. It didn't get in the way of seeing what was in front of him, but it was definitely distracting - and it appeared resistant to his attempts to dismiss it.
...we have Cath and Yegor run some face and razor jander respectively, loosen a few tongues.
"You don't need to work with Cath if you don't want, you can run separate or whatever. Kali is remaining on air support and we'll be keeping an eye on you via overwatch. Do you ka, or do you need an audio replay as well?" She did not even look at him as she spoke, her gaze lazy, her stance loose and relaxed.
"Kali's on air support." she parroted with a big wide smile, the kind that showed only teeth. "Roger motherfrag'n doger, ma'am." the gold gunslinger thrummed, striding into the elevator on what would have been a collision course for Traction, had the far wall not met with Kali's outstretched arms. Doing her best to bullock in the taller, tech savvy teammate the woman whispered out the beginnings of their claustrophobic exchange. "Never fails to get a rise when I eye you puttin' on tough--could just gnaw on that all day." she spoke with such brevity and force as to make discerning whether it was threat or innuendo a difficult task.
Traction's reaction was to peer over Kali's head inquisitively, as if looking as to where the other members of the team were. "Hey Yegor, are the other three coming? I can't tell because of the one by five stack of scorched baggage blocking the door." though soon a quartette of probing hands vied for the decker's divided attention, sweeping over her slim figure with the diligence of colluding arachnids. They dipped into what nooks and crannies they could with slapdash abandon, exposition offered at arm's length. "See now, if you and I didn't pal it on so hard that's exactly the sort of drek don't slide off easy, ain't it? Nul-sweat though, yeah? Sure you've got a little somethin' tucked away for me haven't you?" Kali queried with a certain languid urgency, patting her down like a junkie hungry for a hit.
Kali was quick to square her shoulders and puff up like an angry blowfish--but with the former ranger otherwise indisposed lacked a target for her verbal barbs. "Yeah yeah yeah." she groused waving it off under a fusillade of non-committal gesture. "Was revving for somethin' with more gristle than this milkrun, suss?" Kali bemoaned, plucking up a disposable packet of ketchup from where it had roosted untouched atop a pile of napkins, tossing it from one idle mitt to the other. "You know me..." she started, strutting over to single Kyuzo out in turn. "Don't mind gettin' gouged but good, long as it's bloody." the resident timebomb snarled out, words weighted with lewd intentions as she bore a thumb down on the thin aluminum pocket and sent its contents spurting at the ork.
Kyuzo was hardly paying her mind only catching her actions at the last moment, allowing him to turn his head to the side to avoid most of the mess. There was a slight splatter on his cheek and this was one of those times where it was hard a battle to remain Yegor when Kyuzo's instinct tried to wrestle control. Part of him wanted to just give her a good choke but truth be told, she'd probably enjoy it to a degree. A part of him was also slightly embarrassed. Truth be told, Kali was the only female he'd ever been sexually involved with, aside from trivial high school flings that really involved one, two, or maybe three bases. Sometimes, it was hard to keep it in the forefront of one's mind that the ork was only 17. And that youth wasn't the sweet life, with silver spoons and family trips, and high school yearbooks and time spent building up your social status.
Surprisingly quick, hardly missing a beat, Kyuzo snorted and said in a tone that was as flirtatious as the Yegor persona allowed, "Ork not on menu. Least, not right now." To his credit he'd grown acclimated to these little exchanges, more Mexican standoff than the tootsies of former lovers; knowing better than anyone how quickly they could escalate. "Ain't like that, grunge. Leftovers are always on the menu." she shot back, directing a love tap into the unyielding contour of Kaz's cyberarm.
Juking by she wound her way down the hall, peeling away layers of befouled street clothes as she went and depositing them just beyond the threshold of her room, a section of the floor designated as a temporary hamper. The complete antithesis of Yegor's spartan armory of a boudoir. Without so much as closing the door she dressed down to naught but gold skin and ink, the tattoos on display pitted with a variety of scars and the ever present tanlines of her unflattering underwear. Opting against a shower the agitated hiss of an aerosol body spray rose briefly above the clatter as Kali multitasked, upending the mess around her as she hunted down a few essentials. Within moments she'd compressed herself into a sleek onepeice that didn't so much flatter her sturdy figure as exaggerate its more threatening elements; holstering eenie, meenie, miney and mo along the way. With the weighty assurance of these four revolvers one half of the team's muscle shrugged herself into a heavily fringed duster and rolled the sleeves up to the elbow. Sufficiently dolled up the gun toting ex-Delhiite swept an armful of loose rounds into her satchel and squirreled away a fire-and-forget inhaler; glancing down to the floor to steal a glimpse of herself in a shard of broken mirror as she left.
Kyuzo, being loaded up and ready to go, stood with his arms crossed. He turned his head to glare at the elevator and Traction. "Little girl is eager to run out into the shadows, especially knowing who's furthest away from bullets when they fly. You should join us. Yegor could use some good company. You won't though, statement was," the ork looked up to the corner of his eye as he feigned accessing his thesaurus, an action that was rather common. A half second later, he continued. "Rhetorical in nature. Anyway, Yegor suggest little bit of planning. Let Yegor talk to troll from docks. Get information. Yegor said, by docks, many trolls, many orks. Breeders, not so much. They make computer program that make elf look like ork, and four arm human like troll, mayhaps we're good. Yegor say, give a little time. Regardless Yegor going to talk to Ilrek and get information. You go on run without..." He gave a shrug, indicating that they were more than welcomed to go in without a plan, and without information. He moved to the elevator and stood across from her, arms crossing once again as he leaned against the wall casually.
"Just because you did not listen to or understand the plan does not mean there is not a plan. You and Cath are being sent to do exactly that while I try and pull information from any WANs and LANs in and around the warehouses." Traction deadpanned, not even deigning to so much as look at Yegor in preference for staring at some point of space between the elevator doors and call button. "Since you have trouble remembering, I'll highlight that bit for you."
Traction's eyes flickered briefly as she moved information in an unseen ARO around without even twitching. A large ARO overlay opened in front of Yegor, a line of glowing text that floated high towards the top range of his right eye's vision. It didn't get in the way of seeing what was in front of him, but it was definitely distracting - and it appeared resistant to his attempts to dismiss it.
...we have Cath and Yegor run some face and razor jander respectively, loosen a few tongues.
"You don't need to work with Cath if you don't want, you can run separate or whatever. Kali is remaining on air support and we'll be keeping an eye on you via overwatch. Do you ka, or do you need an audio replay as well?" She did not even look at him as she spoke, her gaze lazy, her stance loose and relaxed.
"Kali's on air support." she parroted with a big wide smile, the kind that showed only teeth. "Roger motherfrag'n doger, ma'am." the gold gunslinger thrummed, striding into the elevator on what would have been a collision course for Traction, had the far wall not met with Kali's outstretched arms. Doing her best to bullock in the taller, tech savvy teammate the woman whispered out the beginnings of their claustrophobic exchange. "Never fails to get a rise when I eye you puttin' on tough--could just gnaw on that all day." she spoke with such brevity and force as to make discerning whether it was threat or innuendo a difficult task.
Traction's reaction was to peer over Kali's head inquisitively, as if looking as to where the other members of the team were. "Hey Yegor, are the other three coming? I can't tell because of the one by five stack of scorched baggage blocking the door." though soon a quartette of probing hands vied for the decker's divided attention, sweeping over her slim figure with the diligence of colluding arachnids. They dipped into what nooks and crannies they could with slapdash abandon, exposition offered at arm's length. "See now, if you and I didn't pal it on so hard that's exactly the sort of drek don't slide off easy, ain't it? Nul-sweat though, yeah? Sure you've got a little somethin' tucked away for me haven't you?" Kali queried with a certain languid urgency, patting her down like a junkie hungry for a hit.
I'd probably say that since awakened immortals trump non or partially awakened immortals Krieg (Kreig? It's spelled both ways in the sheet) would be more 'very heat/fire resistant' than completely immune. Right? Like if a more powerful hollow/awakened shot heat/fire at him that was hotter he'd still burn?
Also, I don't think there's any mana/energy in this setting--it's strictly an issue of powers putting strain on the organism residing in your heart. That's how I ended up reading it anyhow.
Also, I don't think there's any mana/energy in this setting--it's strictly an issue of powers putting strain on the organism residing in your heart. That's how I ended up reading it anyhow.
Also, am I reading it right when I think:
Dirty rounds = Post-fall ammunition plagued by duds, hang fires, imperfections and manufacturing errors.
High grade rounds = Pre-fall rounds subjected to higher degrees of quality control.
Or are High grade rounds specifically match grade? Additionally would AET/glaser rounds fall into this category.
Same note, would Heavy Ammunition strictly be explosives ordinance like grenades or would that cover HEI rounds for smaller firearms as well?
Dirty rounds = Post-fall ammunition plagued by duds, hang fires, imperfections and manufacturing errors.
High grade rounds = Pre-fall rounds subjected to higher degrees of quality control.
Or are High grade rounds specifically match grade? Additionally would AET/glaser rounds fall into this category.
Same note, would Heavy Ammunition strictly be explosives ordinance like grenades or would that cover HEI rounds for smaller firearms as well?
A spark may influence an Immortal's emotions, retain memories, and look their eyes without being awakened.
I kind of read that as 'yes, your spark may cause you to veer off of or onto the straight and narrow' They can even talk to you, but it'll be a one way conversation until you've awakened.
I kind of read that as 'yes, your spark may cause you to veer off of or onto the straight and narrow' They can even talk to you, but it'll be a one way conversation until you've awakened.
Well how about this? If the collab doesn't get any more action by the better part of tomorrow I'll just whip up a regular post.
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