Survival Horror - Gameplay

[Crafty_Pat]

For more than a few moments I've been staring slack-jawed at the awful scene at the front of the cargo bay. I can't take my eyes from the slow-motion carnage. I'm mesmerized by it, though my mind is somewhere else entirely....

Father forgive me, I fell for it. Another game engineered by the Magnanimous Police State and I FELL FOR IT!

This isn't a transfer, it's a funeral. They're oiling the squeaky wheels - with acid. All this... it's just an accounting adjustment.

Well, no more. This isn't the first time they've thinned the Flock and it won't be the last - but it's time they learned the price of their arrogance.

I approach the others, doing my best to project the gravity of the situation. I observe their progress with the shield.

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How's that coming, BTW? How much longer until it's usable, if that's possible at all?

I lower my voice so Dirk can't hear, but I keep it level and decisive. "He doesn't have long. This doesn't come together mighty fast I say we release the truck and put the bastard out of his misery. Take out the guns at the same time."

I look at each of them in turn, trying to make eye contact.

"He deserves better than this. Let's give it to him."

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If assembling the shield winds up a Survival check (doubtful), then I'll apply my stalker ability; otherwise I'll do whatever I can to assist the operation. If it looks like it's going to take longer than one or two more applications of acid damage, I'll push instead for releasing the truck.

[Mister Andersen]

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gatac: 1d20+13 → [4,13] = (17); 1d20+13 → [19,13] = (32)
antilles: 1d20+13 → [19,13] = (32); 1d20+13 → [10,13] = (23)
val: 1d20+8 → [20,8] = (28); 1d20+8 → [2,8] = (10)

Everyone threats at least once, so it's safe to say you guys have a rather excellently improvised tower shield that will be ready in 2d4=5 minutes.

As for poor old Dirk:

5 more points of acid damage brings him down to 5 wounds, then 3 wounds, then finally he's left hovering on 2, while the stress of it all -- 1d20 2=13 -- leaves him at shaken III.

As the Reverend looks on, making pronouncements and passing judgements as only a man of the cloth can, Sam and Andrew set about trying to rig a tower shield out of the discarded door of the truck, opening lugs, wrapping chains, relying on Veronica's Amazonian strength to apply the necessary tension.

By the time it's assembled, however, Dirk -- his every step an anguished exertion -- has almost succeeded in forcing his bloody, ravaged body to the top of the stairs. It's also clear that if she manages to lift the shield without the chains snapping under the weight, Veronica's not going to be able to see where she's going: someone's going to have to crawl underneath the truck and act as her spotter.

Val, if you'd be so kind as to give me an Athletics/power lift check and a reflex save. Whoever wants to spot can give me a Notice check.

[Antilles]

"Finished, and not a moment too soon, he looks almost dead over there. Here, I'll crawl under the bed and shout out directions while you... do what you do best, I guess."

With that he crawls under the truck and into a good lookout position.

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1d20+18 → [3,18] = (21)

That was a crap roll... If the GC allows, I'll use bright idea to reroll that one.

1d20+18 → [5,18] = (23)

Which was so much better anyways...

Also, Val, don't forget you're currently benefiting from my Survivalist feat

[NezMaster]

Dirk stops at the top of the stairs and breathes deeply. He's always taken foolish chances. IT's been the focal point of his life. Why does he does this shit. He knows better. Sometimes he wonders if some part of him wants to die.
Dirk focuses on his breathing for a moment, taking his mind to black, trying to wield out the pain.
'Focus dammit, focus" he mutters to himself. "If I'm going out, it's with a bigger bang than this." He looks down, and wonders just how bad it is, then thinks it's better if he doesn't know.

He stops for several seconds, concentrating only on focusing his mind. "This is what happens when you take foolish chances' which as he thinks about it for some reason, makes it all seem worth it.

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Well i figured playing a suicidal character in a high fatality game would have it's drawbacks...

Refresh action
(presuming i'm eligible, refresh for 6 using the stuntman die since that only lasts until the end scene. If i'm not eligible (due to fatigue or whatever)  i'll just have to deal with it and proceed.)

Dirk sighs, recovering his breath, and sees the ones behind him assembling. "They all think I'm some kind of idiot..well their right..but I'll at least try to be an idiot who accomplishes something."
He staggers upwards and tries to move through to the next room. When he gets to the top, in a gasping voice, he reports back to the group what he sees.
"So you know...it''s...." he gasps, trying to report, hoping his sacrifice was not for nothing, that he has somehting to contribute other than his insanity.

[Antilles]

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Metagaming just a liiiitle bit, but you might wanna hold off spending action dice on refreshing actions until I get across, seeing as being right next to me doubles your recovery. Also, I've no chance in hell to succeed on a first aid check on you, so spending action dice will be your only way of recovery for a while...

[NezMaster]

Dirk shurgs, and staggers a bit further in. He stops inside the door and speaks loudly, though at first, it's unclear who he's talking too.

"Yeah ok, I'm an idiot who fell into your trap, you smug bastard. What's next?"
Dirk seems to have forgotten his nudity for the moment and seeing as the man seems to have no intention of attacking, he slumps against the wall and calmly sits, waiting for the others.

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Yes Anderson, I know who it is, but why the heck would Drik know? One of those things where I question 'are we in that universe?' 'do those comics exist?' etc..make a knowledge check for me if you think I could know who it is. (He *IS* a movie geek, so maybe he's read some comics from time to time)

[Mister Andersen]

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Actually, the question of recognition was purely an OOC one. Since you're here and Val is AWOL, I'll move things along in a tick.

[Valentina]

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Athletics/Power Lift
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1744538/
16

Reflex Save
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1744541/
15

And Notice, if still relevant.
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1744553/
23

[Mister Andersen]

Veronica grabs hold of the chains and hoists the door upright; even with the rest of you helping her hints of the strain can be seen on her face. Carefully, so very carefully, she starts edging along the side of the truck. The bottom of the shield scrapes hideously against the decking, a sound soon accompanied by the chatter of the sentry pods and the pinging of their deadly payloads striking harmlessly against the metal.

Then, just by the nose of the truck, something goes wrong. Andrew calls out as the second sentry opens up, and as she repositions herself against the onslaught, the shield catches on something and wrenches itself free of her grip, tipping forward -- and drawing the fire of both sentries.

Desperately she lunges for it, yanking it backwards only to loose her footing while dooing so, her foot loosing traction in a smear of acid paint. The top of the shield crashed into the front of the trucks cargo container, keeping her mostly covered...

Mostly.

As she desperately rolls beneath the truck, one fo the turrets scores a parting shot, a stitch of three pink stains along her leg.

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Veronica, benefiting from 3/4 cover, takes a single volley, suffering a total of 3 pts of subdual and 11 pts of acid damage.

[Valentina]

Veronica's shriek of fury comes out an alarmed squeak instead. She begins frantically ripping away at her pants leg around the impact site.

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If by chance the fabric's too tough, she'll instead try to catch it on a piece of truck understructure and tear it loose that way.

[foproy]

hearing a comotion comming from outside of the truck chris bolts outside to see veronica  seeing her current situation and thinking in pure desperation to help the ones who can help him, he shouts "quick while they are destracted try to tackle them."

he then runs around to the side oppisite veronica and bull rushes the one on that side of the truck (he is attempting to knock it over)

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1d20+10=19

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1d20+7=24

[Mister Andersen]

So, anyone going to try and stop him? For values of anyone equal to the Reverend and Sam.

[Antilles]

Nope, stuck under the truck, can't feasibly see how I could stop him.

[Crafty_Pat]

They're right. I don't see how we could affect his charge.

[Mister Andersen]

Christopher charges along the other side of the truck, his path the same as the previous oh so successful attempt.

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1d20+10=27, 1d20+10=29

That's 6 hits + 1 critical hit.

17 subdual,
43 acid to vitality and + 5 acid to Wounds which at the end of everything leaves you at 1 wound with 42 subdual, fatigued, permanently sickened and with a couple points of charisma damage.

He charges through the hail of acid pellets and crashes into the furthest turret. Guns firing blindly, its servomotors whine in protest as he digs into its innards and yanks, tearing at tubes and cabling even as the flesh starts to melt from him. At last, though, the machine dies as Chris collapses in a frothing bloody heap, breathing raspily and wracked with pain.