Shiaran, barely catching the horrible event with Kallium out of the corner of an eye, draws a single gun and moves a little closer.  She takes aim at a Lacedon head.  The shot's ring out and the head rocks back with the shot, but it is not quite enough to kill the thing.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:34, Sun 14 May 2017.

"NO!" Sypher uses the giant's momentary pause to throw its trident as an opportunity for a solid hit to it's shin.  The fire and the blade bite into the bone and remove a chunk, but nothing that would slow the thing down.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:54, Sun 14 May 2017.

Beloc has witnessed many horrifying things on the battlefield, but this one probably ranks up there pretty high. With the threat of their only lead into the foray dying before the mission even started, he plants in falchion in the ground and falls to his knees. He places his hands firmly on the ground and calls upon the Glen Warden.

"Stop these abominations in their tracks!" (spoken in druidic)

A brown and green haze rises up around him as several vine-like tendrils race out from his hands out toward the ghouls. Amidst the ranks of the incoming ghouls, large vines spring out of the ground, grasping and whipping around at them.

He stands and looks over to Shiaran. "I can stop the bleeding, but I'll need an extra pair of hands to deal with that trident."

He rushes over to Kallium, who still squirms futilely against the weapon pinning him to the ground. "You're not going to let a little pitchfork slow you down, are you?" He says, trying to draw Kallium's focus away from the predicament.

Beloc invokes Grasping Vines from the Plate of the Glen Warden, centered between the two groups of ghouls heading toward them.

R.E.B.O.R.T. watches Kallium fly through the air. His expressionless face turns back to the boney giant and takes aim for two more shots.

His continued barrage on the right leg is unrelenting. Both shots, a direct hit on the knee joint.

After the last shot, he ejects the expended magazine, and begins to reach for a fresh one from a hidden compartment in his hip.

22:19, Today: R.E.B.O.R.T. rolled 15 using 2d10+2.  Damage vs. Reef giant.
22:19, Today: R.E.B.O.R.T. rolled 21 using 2d10+2.  Damage vs. Reef giant.

Blood runs from Kallium's mouth, staining his teeth red. "T-take..book. In p-pack" he chokes out. He is unable to act or move beyond weak speech. He looks at the giant skeleton, and his eyes grow wide with fear.

The giant skeleton's knee is completely destroyed by the last volley Rebort sent his way. It would almost be comical, were the situation not so dire, to watch the giant hop on one leg. He moves at a quarter of the speed he charged in with, and closes in on Kallium, ignoring the party members in close proximity to him. He hefts up the trident, Kallium still attached, and raises it like a javelin once more. He chucks the trident at Rebort, with the impaled Kallium flopping like a rag doll. The added weight of Kallium's body slows the point blank throw. Rebort has just enough time to side step the massive projectile. Kallium's screams come to an abrupt halt when the trident buries its barbs in the dirt for a second time.

Across the field, four of the six lacedons are grasped and drug down by Beloc's vines. The remaining two don't bother waiting for their comrades. They cover another 30 foot of the gap between themselves and the party, putting them within melee range this round.

To the south, where the giant entered, 4 more lacedons can be seen running towards the group. These don't look like the rest you've all fought so far. These are armed, wicked curved swords in hand and breastplates covering their sickly frames. They wear tattered khaki jumpsuits underneath their armor. The cloth is sopping wet. The equipment overall is rusted and pockmarked. One of them appears to have a rifle on his back, that doesn't show the same signs of saltwater exposure as the rest. All four are wearing ghastly helmets with elongated noses that look like beaks.

Beloc, Sypher, Shiaran - AoO on the giant
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:51, Sun 14 May 2017.

Beloc swings wildly in frustration as the giant charges past him, his blades connecting with nothing but air.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:57, Sun 14 May 2017.

Shiaran darts in and slices across the other leg of the giant with her sword.  The blade chips off a piece, but the cold blue aura flashes and ice begins to form at the wound. "Rebort!  One of them has a gun!"  Shiaran hopes the golem knows what she's referring to.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Sun 14 May 2017.

Sypher calmly swipes the giant's leg out from under it.  The white fire contacts the frozen limb with explosive results.  The leg shatters and the giant falls to the ground.  Frozen bits fly everywhere, not fast enough to hurt anyone, but enough to make it look like the giant took more damage when it fell than it probably did.

Ignoring the approaching lacedons, Sypher moves quickly to the giant's head.  He raises the weapon with both hands on the hilt, blade down. "For Kallium."  He rams the First Blade of House Whiteraven home, right between the eye-less sockets.  The skull shatters in a flaming, icy blast.

Sypher whirls to face the incoming attackers.  "We need to get out of here."

R.E.B.O.R.T. starts scanning the area as he snaps in a fresh magazine to his rifle. "Scanning for target..."

Off in the distance, R.E.B.O.R.T. spots the ghoul Shiaran called out. "Target acquired!"

If the group is planning to run, a ghoul with a rifle would surely cause a lot of damage in the retreat. He squeezes the trigger, letting another round loose. It hits the target in the upper right shoulder, spinning it around awkwardly, taking the right arm completely off in the process. It falls to the ground motionless.

08:17, Today: R.E.B.O.R.T. rolled 19 using 2d10+2.  Damage vs. lacedon w/ rifle.

This message was last edited by the player at 13:51, Sun 14 May 2017.

Seeing their only chance at completely their mission get tossed across the yard like a child's plaything, causes a certain amount of worry to set it. Beloc sprints over to the Major only to find the life has already drained out of him. Kallium's last words ring in the back of his mind. The book... take the book.

There was no time to search the pack for the book, so Beloc decides to take the whole thing. Being pinned to the ground in the manner that he is, however, makes it hard to remove the pack, but he works as quickly as he can to unbuckle it and remove it.

With the southward lacedons down a man, the remaining three stop. One quickly recovers the rifle from his fallen comrade, and all three hit the dirt and go prone behind fallen bodies of both marine and undead. One even takes care in dragging his wounded comrade to safety, while another manages to snatch up a rifle from a dead marine. It rapidly becomes apparent these aren't like the any the group has been dispatching.

Shiaran and Sypher's turn. Two lacedons in immediate melee range (from snared group). 4 more out 30 feet away snared by Beloc's grasping vines".

With the new tactics from the fresh batch of ghouls, Shiaran alters her own strategy.  Given that the one near her is intent on following, she passes to one side when she slashes at it with her sword.  The blow does little damage, but it serves to put her closer to the writhing mass of Beloc's spell.  She takes a backward step toward the one side of the mass that would keep it between her and the gun ghouls.

Sypher cuts through the ghoul that approaches him almost as an afterthought as he eyes the rifle-toting ghouls.  Judging the distance too far, he looks around at the rest of his party and moves toward whomever needs help or healing.

The lacedons Shiaran strikes is instantly crusted over with an icey rime.

Meanwhile the 4 lacedons under Beloc's spell struggle to no avail.

Over to the west, beyond the haze of smoke and evening gloom, several small explosions pop, sending bright waves of orange light through the fog of war. The resounding cries heard after each explosion aren't that of human, but are of lacedons screeching in pain.

The sharpshooter lacedons to the south open fire, taking inaccurate pot shots at anything moving. One round strikes the frozen lacedon, sending a quarter of its frozen skull flying in a fine, frosty mist.

Within the haze beyond the sharpshooter, more figures can be seen emerging. Dozens of lacedons, wearing the same gear as the four prone. They aren't running or rushing forward. They march in a line, shoulder to shoulder, and span across a 180 ft stretch of the field. The vast majority are already carrying rifles scavenged from the dead, and they have them lowered, bayonets pointing forward as they march.

His newly built in feature of undead detection alerts him to the incoming danger. R.E.B.O.R.T. addresses the rest of the group. "I detect an overwhelming number of enemies approaching from the south. A tactical retreat appears to be the only chance at survival."

Sypher makes his way over to Shiaran, eviscerating the frozen lacedon on the way with a casual sword swing across the middle.  "Let's move.  I'll take point."  True to his word, he starts heading for the officer's mess hall [Building A].

"Rebort.  You and I will lay down cover fire.  Conserve your ammo for things that get close or become a nuisance.  Beloc, will you guard our backs?"  Shiaran sheaths her blade and draws her second pistol, looking for surprises, even from above.

Beloc slings Kallium's pack over his shoulder, sheaths his falchion, and draws the trench gun. He pumps the forearm, chambering a shell. "I have your back."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:07, Mon 15 May 2017.

R.E.B.O.R.T. holsters the rifle on his back, and out pops the forearm mounted pistols again. "Ammo reserves at 99.3% capacity."

He follows beside Shiaran.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:07, Mon 15 May 2017.

As the party starts to trek back across the field and North towards the mess hall, the fighting there is a full on frenzy. The watery ghouls and marines alike are strewn in every direction. Several of the undead are too busy gnawing on the mangled corpses of servicemen to give a second thought to the group. As you get nearer, you see muzzle flashes coming from both inside the halls darkened windows. A round wizzes by Sypher's head, missing him and the rest by less than a foot. You don't know if it's poor aim or a warning shot, or in the gloomy haze sweeping across the parade field whether or not whomever fired can even make out who you are. The ghouls continue to pour all over the building, searching for entry and receiving bullets and improvised melee weapons at the windows. Several windows even appear to be blocked off now by the long cafeteria style tables the enlisted eat on. To the west, more small flashes of light, presumably a mage's arcane fireball, rain down to consume their targets. Being closer to the west gate you all can distinctly see the light arcing down from up high, possibly the outer wall.

"I'm sorry, Sy.  I know you want to, but we have a mission.  If we go in, the risk is high that we die with them.  If we finish our mission, we stop this."  Shiaran's look is firm, but understanding of the forces waging war in Sypher's mind.

Sypher looks at the officer's mess, then at the swarming undead.  His shoulders slump a little, but he nods his acquiescence.  "I'll take point."  He directs himself west toward the town and starts off at a trot slow enough to allow the others to keep up.  Two lacedon munching on remains are obliterated in his quiet fury.

As they move, Shiaran keeps up with possible tactics.  "If we make for Darius Grintome's, he might have some things we need, transportation, or at least give us some firepower we need to break out of here and get pointed toward our first ley line."

R.E.B.O.R.T. follows up with Shiaran's comment. "I know Darius well. If he is there, and still alive, he can help."