In reply to The Marshall (msg # 271):

Dakota looked puzzled.

"Sounds like it's comin' from downstairs, on the top floor?

"Thing is, I can't recall there being anyone there. Top floor was deserted."

"Maybe we had better take a look," said Smoker, heading for the stairs with a bit of a lurch.

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 273):

Jane shook her head.  "Screams are seldom a good sign.  We might as well check it out."

Jane checked her ammo and hefted her gun.  "Back to work we go."

 The screams prompt most of the team to the stairs. Jason knows a faster way and a far less crowded way. He starts looking very quickly around for either a gantry or a rope or cable.

Peter gave a nod of agreement. He too thought it was the floor below them. So he followed after Smoker and Jane and headed downstairs to see what was going on. Screams in a hospital COULD happen for non-nefarious reasons....but that was unlikely since such was his life.

Smoker lurched down the stairs, making use of the handrail and wondering why it was harder to go down than up with a bad leg?

Then he reached the next floor and looked round...

In reply to Jason Sinclair (msg # 275):

Everyone piled down the stairs. The long hallway stretched empty in both directions. One led off to the elevator lobby, the other into darker areas of the top floor.

Jason looked for some other means of egress. The roof, like all pre-war hospitals (and thus unlike almost all others in the Wasted West) was kept reasonable orderly, if not exactly clean. No ropes, cables, cleaner's scaffolding or handy climbing nets were immediately available. There were a couple elevator mechanical rooms, several sets of HVAC machinery.

Searching wildly, it looked like he was in luck!

Next to the hospital roof was the smokestack for the incinerator, sticking up and hooking into the Steel Sky. They were doing some kind of maintenance and it was surrounded by scaffolding. Various steel and multicoloured Nylon cables hung down, used to lift materials up to where they were working on the connection to the Steel Sky at the top of the stack. It would be about a five-foot jump to the scaffold, easy enough to make. Then he could make his way down, although he would probably need to break a window to get back inside if there wasn't one that was already open.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 278):

PM

Peter unerringly moved away from the elevator lobby. He figured if something was going on, it wouldn't be conveniently located near an exit. That was just the way his horror show of a life tended to work. A small grim smile touched his lips at the thought. He wished he was geared up if there was going to be actual trouble but no use crying over spilled milk...or blood.

In reply to Increase Trask (msg # 279):

The posse found that now the sun was down, the deserted hospital corridors were quite dark. A few lights remained but many were burned out. The shadows were dark and heavy.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 281):

PM

In reply to Increase Trask (msg # 282):

PM

  Jason smiled a wolf is smile. He springs to the scaffold and goes down a rope to the nearest window on the top floor of the hospital. Fortune is with him a window is shattered already. In he goes as the others ponder what to do about weapons Jason draws Tizona. His Ranger sidearm in the shoulder holster as always. He eases out into the hall. And heads towards the sound of the screaming. Ready.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 283):

PM
This message was last edited by the player at 01:15, Fri 20 Jan 2017.

The Posse cast about the darkened halls of the hospital's top floor, looking for the source of the screaming that seemed to go on forever. Neither Trask nor the source of the noise was visible.

In the darkened ward where Trask was trapped, Phelps snarled a curse and dove for cover, safely out of sight in the nurse's station. His vibro-sword strike cleaved only thin air as the armoured door clanged shut. Out from the "Quiet Rooms" to either side of the door lurched three Combine automatons, chain-guns lowering to the ready. Thermal confirmed that they were there and active, about to go "hot" with their chain guns. Trask knew with an absolute dread certainty that even his Wolverine suit couldn't survive a 3-1 attack by Automatons!

His only hope was to escape. Thankfully, behind him, he knew there were windows. Most were barred but one had its bars ripped out, Lexan armoured-glass lying on the tiled floor beneath it. Outside and perhaps 10 feet away was what appeared to be some kind of smoke stack surrounded by scaffolding. The lowest level of scaffolding was close enough to reach, if he jumped.

Suddenly, out of nowhere Jason swung inside the shattered window, using a multicoloured nylon rope! He drew his weapons, seeing Trask in front of him, weapon in hand. In his quick glance, Trask was facing some kind of foe, possibly several, although lacking thermal and LLTV he couldn't quite make out what they were. Unfortunately he didn't have time to process any more than this, as the rope he just dropped immediately came to life and wrapped itself immediately around Jason's left throat, yanking him off his feet and dragging him back through the gaping window he just entered!
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:22, Sun 22 Jan 2017.

Trask was about to fire on the fleeing cyborg bounty when his sensors when nuts as he turns to run he yells. "Your mine Phelps I am going to tear your other arm off for good measure."

He takes a couple of steps and leaps towards the scaffolding and safety. "Never a satchel charge when you need it."

-
This message was last edited by the player at 01:50, Mon 23 Jan 2017.

  "Seriously! Can't even trust the damned ropes anymore." He says as Trask goes sailing by yelling about satchel charges. Jason swipes at the rope to avoid whatever thing is at the other end. Tizona flashes out as he attempts to sever the rope. The weak strike doesn't hit the rope, but manages to take a large chunk of window casement.

Got a modified 1 on the attack roll. If I had hit likely would have severed the rope/tentacle with a 41 damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:56, Mon 23 Jan 2017.

In reply to Jason Sinclair (msg # 288):

The Posse was able to faintly hear the sounds of fighting coming from the opposite end of the building, enough to get them moving in the right direction!

Trask made the jump. Two things happened that truly confused him. First, his readouts in front of him and the physical power armour suit around him faded away. He realised he wasn't wearing his Wolverine suit, that he'd left it downstairs and only somehow believed he was still wearing it. And second, the scaffolding he thought was 5-6 feet away from the window proved to be more like 20 feet! He was jumping into nothingness, six stories up above pavement. It was a long drop and gonna hurt. A lot.

However, as time slowed down and his power suit faded, he saw in front of him Jason, the Templar, being held by some kind of cable wrapped around his neck. The cable was whipping him around back and forth, dragging him out from the hospital, up and into the Steel Sky. His sword was in his hand, the cable seemed to be snaking down from some unseen place higher up on the smokestack's scaffolding.

Trask makes a grab for the rope holding Jason looking to save his own neck as much as anything else. What had just gone on would have to wait while he tries to stop himself popping on the pavement.

-

In reply to Increase Trask (msg # 290):

The illusion around Trask fades as he goes through the window. Sensing something is wrong, that his eyes, ears and touch is deceiving him Trask managed to propel his body just a little farther out across the void, aiming for the scaffolding that seemed to recede in front of his eyes.

As Trask grabs for the rope holding Jason, Jason is whipped away bu the rope/tentacle/tongue that has grabbed him. Instead, he aimed for the metal and wood scaffolding platform around the incinerator's smokestack. His chest slammed into the metal piping holding the wood boards into place and he hung on, pain blossoming through his chest. Marshall's Note: Trask has sustained a Serious wound to the Upper Guts, plus 6 Wind (endurance). He needs to make a TN7 Vigor save vs. Stun, and will be at a -3 for Actions.

The tentacle wrapped around Jason drew him up to his captor. He was whipped around and upside down, glimpsing in horror as his right leg shoved into a tooth-filled maw. Marshall's Note: Attack roll 10. Jason has 1 Action this turn, he can try to Dodge or Parry. I forgot to roll for Wind damage last turn so we'll let that go.

His mouth instantly filled with blood as he landed, grabbing forward with one hand and then the other dragging himself onto the deck and spitting out his mouthful on to the boards. "Ah... you have to be fuckin kidding me, shit." He got to one knee and looked for where Jason had been dragged to, spitting again as he did.

Standing Trask tried to find a way to climb up further to give him a look at where Jason went. "Phew... this shit is easier in a suit. Arr fuck me."


Increase Trask rolled 7 using 4d8, keeping the highest dice only, rerolling max with rolls of 7,3,6,2.  TN7 Vigor save vs. Stun.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:07, Fri 03 Feb 2017.

Peter had pulled the nightvision goggles down over his eyes. They disarmed him, for the most part, at least of the heavy stuff, but they didn't refrain him from wearing his armor. And he'd became a paranoid shit in his old age and wore it most of the time except in the hotel room with Jane really.

He snapped his head around and started down the hallway towards the ruckus at a jog. He didn't dare run in the old place for fear of tripping or stepping in a hole or who knows what else. He pulled out his redhawk as he moved. "This way!"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:01, Fri 03 Feb 2017.

 Jason is getting groggy from blood loss and his airway being constricted. As the infernal rope drags him higher into the Steel Sky he thinks "Been in worse spots. Not quite sure exactly how at the moment, but I have I think. Ooo that is a lot of teeth. Shit teeth!!!!" the sword darts at his feet to swipe at the thing in an attempt to block the biting that is surely going to happen.

 And with a 7 on the parry roll and a 1 on the red chip I think a Nom Nom Nom it is.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:52, Fri 03 Feb 2017.

In reply to Jason Sinclair (msg # 294):

The creature stuffed Jason's right leg into its toothy maw. It closed just below the knee, shearing through skin, tendon, muscle and bone. With a rip, his lower leg came off, spraying Jason with blood!

As he gained some precarious footing on the support struts, Trask managed to stay conscious. He found himself hanging on the outside of the scaffold. Looking up, he could see Jason about six feet almost directly above him. Suddenly, he was drenched in a spray of warm blood as the squat fleshy thing holding Jason lifted him to its mouth and bit off his right leg! Unsure what he was looking at, Trask reckoned he might be able to draw his revolver and take a shot at it past his dying friend.

Back in the hospital, Peter, Jane, Smoker and Dakota rushed into the wing where the wailing, now stopped, was coming from. It was an abandoned psych ward. There was an open area with a secure nurse's station (door open), several "quiet rooms" (also doors open), and a leisure area by some large windows. Broken furniture and a handful of mannequins(?) littered the floor, dust lay everywhere.

Although most of the windows were intact there was one where the heavy armoured glass had popped out or broken. Through that gap they could just see a smokestack covered with scaffolding 20' away. For some reason Trask had made a death-defying jump across the gap and landed below the level of the window, hanging for dear life to the scaffolding. Above him Jason was being pulled up into the scaffolding and tubing of the Steel Sky by what appeared to be a multicoloured nylon rope?! Something bad happened to Jason (his legs were out of sight) and suddenly he and Trask were drenched in blood spraying from a severed leg.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:07, Sat 04 Feb 2017.

"Oh for the love of christ, is that blood ?" Another line of profanity filled the air as Trask withdrew his revolver from it shoulder holster. He lines up for the shot and pulls the trigger.


Increase Trask rolled 9 using 5d12, keeping the highest dice only, rerolling max with rolls of 9,3,9,3,3.

Increase Trask rolled 20 using 4d6, keeping the highest dice only, rerolling max with rolls of 3,(6+5)11,3,3.  Dam.


This message was last edited by the player at 04:14, Sun 05 Feb 2017.