POOHEAD189

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

@ctrlsaltdel I re-rolled, but even with the plus 1 I got the exact number so it wouldn't change anything

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

"Fuck that baby."

@Penny

-Quintus when questioned by police

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

The civilian attempted to climb into the cab on the passenger's side, likely to retake the truck or protest, but an iron grip ripped the man from the step to the curb with a casual grace.

"You can bill the city," Quintus remarked loud enough for him to hear as Molly cranked the engines to life. He gave a sardonic smile for the lie, and they were already a dozen meters away before he even closed the door and settled into the seat. Molly had that look in her eyes, something Quintus had only just gotten used to. It meant despite the insane stunts that were about to be pulled, the worst you would lose would be your lunch. She was good; far better than she had any right to be. Luck or skill, it would run out someday, but Quintus liked taking chances.

He double checked the magazine on his heavy blaster, sliding the mag back in with practiced ease before rolling down the window. Wind buffeted their hair in a whirring torrent, Quintus holding onto the sturdy handhold as he planted his rump on the sill of the window, using the rear-view mirror as a makeshift stand to steady his aim. "Try to keep it steady!" He called to Molly, knowing she was prone to make wild turns at the drop of a hat. He closed one eye as they careened around a corner, this turn he expected, and as the gods had it, they came into line behind none other than Cho-Tyrek. He'd been a pain in their ass for too long.

Quintus approximated his shot, and fired.

My Hider

Quintus shoots and rolls 2,3,5

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

The Muscle

Quintus, the Muscle

---

Name: Quintus Rhydderch
Alias: Sweep
Look:
A man with a powerful physique sculpted for combat, with just enough looks to play the low-class charmer when physicality fails, which is rare. He leans over most people with his 6'2 frame, and a single look at the calluses on his knuckles shows just how familiar he is with using his fists to get what he wants. It's clear he keeps himself in shape to stay alive, and to make certain others don't.

Heritage: Spacer
Background: Military
Vice: Gambling

Class XP Trigger: You addressed a tough challenge with force or threats.

Starting Ability: Unstoppable - Engage a small gang on equal footing in close combat.

Special Abilities:

• Predator: Take +1d to rolls against weakened or vulnerable targets. Whenever you gather information on a weakness or vulnerability, the worst you can get is a 4/5 result.

Insight [1]

Doctor
Hack
Rig
Study >

Prowess [3]

Helm
Scramble >
Scrap >>>
Skulk >

Resolve [2]

Attune
Command >
Consort
Sway >

Trauma: 0/4
- N/A

Contacts:
Kieger - a fine blaster pistol - They're always up for more work.
Shod - [Friend] - a weapons dealer - Throws good deals my way, because they know I'm good for it.
Chon-Zek - [Rival] - a bounty hunter - Nothing he won't do to show me up.
Yazshu - a guild merchant - Slippery xenos with an eye for business.
Mavik Keng - gambling den owner - He knows how to hook you up for high-risk, high-reward.
Aelanda - bar dancer - Send her some credits and she'll provide information and more.

Bio:

Quintus was the son of a mid-tier Merchant Guild journeyman, his father a man of lofty ambition but limited skill. His mother left when he was ten, and though she told him she would take him with her, but she evidently lied. He blamed his father, until he was old enough to blame both parents. When he was seventeen, he joined the hegemony military, and when he heard his father died by age twenty three, he tried to take leave for the funeral, but when he arrived, his father left no money for him, and the return trip crashed, causing him to be considered AWOL. He was dishonorably discharged, leaving him broke with no prospects.

He stole his military equipment, and set about as an enforcer to local gangs on a planet called Pallax, getting tossed around as freelance muscle for hire until he killed a small street gang bare handed at once, earning him the nickname StreetSweeper, or 'Sweep.' He soon earned a reputation, and made his way off-planet into merc work, joining a few odd jobs guarding cargo or hitting insurgents for local guilders, signing on with Yazhu, a reptilian xenos who knew him as a boy.

After years of taking risks physically, he lost it big, not on his life, but in a gambling den. To pay it off, he took one job, so insane, that it turning sour was a foregone conclusion. It was assaulting and kidnapping a high profile aristocrat en route on an interplanetary voyage between the second and third planets in the system. He succeeded, but he lost his ship in the process, and became incriminated. His money tight, his debt uncomfortable, and his prospects limited, he went for the next team that could sign him on, no matter how crazy.

Status Block

Stress: [000------]
Harm:

Level 3:

Level 2:

• Bleeding cut

Level 1:

• Shaken

Cred: 3/4
Stash: 5/40
Armor:
- Normal [X]
Load: Normal (5/5)

• Heavy Blaster (2)
• Tactical armor (2)
• Large Knife/Melee (1)

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Yep, both stun and tracers sound fine to me!

Heroes of The Guard: A Warhammer 40K RP

While I had studied military tactics extensively at the scholam, and with no small measure of pride I can safely say I was a natural, you did not need to be a strategist to realize Sel and I were in a bad way.

In fact despite the mundane circumstances of being hunkered down in a bakery, there are only a handful of times in my long and illustrious career I can say I potentially came closer to death. A good ambush with the right equipment could cripple an astartes battle group, and we had certainly been caught with our pants down, and not in the way I typically enjoyed. Even now I can still recall the crackling of shattered glass as the paramilitary squad stepped past the threshold of the shop, firing above us to keep our heads down while they coordinated themselves to encircle and destroy. Sel held herself commendably with a stoicism I was envious of. Though I tended to believe myself a learned and worldly man, I felt as if our association was scraping away the last shred of inherent sexism I did not realize I still possessed as I was awed by how many women in her position would simply scream or throw themselves on the mercy of our attackers. However, the thought was very brief, when it hit me that most civilian men would do the same, and the women under my command were made with just as much grit and strength as I had. The mind tended to break it's usual habits when under threat of death, bringing out odd and untoward thoughts. However, it did grant me the will to save our lives, Emperor be praised. As I dwelled on the strength of the men and women serving under me and compared them to the ponces I had just left, it brought out an old hatred in my breast. I had joined the guard for a reason, and it was not to cower and wait for death in a throne damned cakery.

"Corporal, I need a distraction!" I said over the din of the lasbolts and autogun rounds shearing through the timber and stacked cakes we knelt behind. One round struck the edge of the table just above my head, sending my head flying to our feet. Sel gave me a look.

"Sir?"

"Just for a second." I assured her. I could see in her eyes that she saw I had a plan, and she nodded. Sel scooped up a handful of cake, and flung it into the air behind us, rolling to the end of the counter on its right side and returning fire. Only later would I realize she actually managed to incapacitate one of the assailants with some fine gunwork. In the meantime, as all of their guns were baring down on her position, I rose from behind the counter, planted the barrel of my gun on the edge to keep it steady, and set my sights on one of the nooks along the walls of the shop. Before the utter decimation of the niceties, the establishment had various indentions in the walls, like small alcoves, with three levels top to bottom where they would set various cakes on display. Behind the top cake on each nook were large sockets where the lumen above them recieved its power. If I had an autogun, this might not have worked. As it stood, I had a laspistol in my hand, and something every guardsmen and potentially every civilian knows, is that you should never aim at an electrical socket with a lasgun.

The effects are volatile.

I pulled the trigger, the lasbolt flying past the swathed men to strike the socket. It burst in an explosion of electricity and flames, popping like fireworks at close range. The gunmen flinched, one catching a stray rush of flame, desperately trying to quench it before it spread from his shoulder to the rest of his body. Suddenly, for a precious few moments, the highly disciplined squad was caught disorganized and distracted. It gives me no pleasure to say that Sel and I did not hesitate. I turned my gun on the closest man, who's autogun had been swinging in my direction before he caught the concussive force of the blast, staggering him. I dropped him with two shots to the neck, and nearly burned off the leg of the next man. He fell forward, my second and third shots ending his life before he hit the floor. Sel's lasgun punched through the chest of the last assailt with a burst of lasbolts, and we rose from out behind cover, I rounded the side and Sel vaulted the counter, sending cake and debris to the ground with the swing of her legs.

"Do you smell that?" I asked, raising my head and glancing around. It was a familiar odor, but the firefight had knocked away my senses for a moment.

"What?" She asked, checking the bodies to make certain they were dead.

"Burnt meat." I remarked. Sel raised her brows and gestured to the bodies. I shook my head. The meat I was smelling was spiced. Then it came to me, mere seconds before Morek did. An engine rumbled, and the squat skidded into view on a small salamander, the vehicle ramming through an overturned groundcar. The bearded abhuman had beef jerky in his mouth as usual, and goggles over his eyes. There were scorch marks on the armor plating, and a lasgun strapped to his barrel chest. I smiled, showing my perfect white teeth.

"Just in time, Morek."

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Snatch and grab
Deadly
On the trail

Stacey Weathers
Lix
Arlox

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Owe them one, yeah

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

I believe if we're daring, speed and firepower are the most thematic, but I won't be too bummed if comms wins

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

@ctrlsaltdel Engines & Weapons