Re: M4 WG: Harsh Climates
In a furious storm of energized plasma, the Rebels show the Imperials their true mettle. If they thought their opponents to be ill-organized irregulars huddled in fear, they were wrong. The superior firepower of the scout bikes is ineffective against the Rebels' position, and their coordinated small-arms fire is very effective against lightly-armoured vehicles.
The scout bikes are knocked off-course as their riders are wounded or critical components are destroyed. Repulsorlift engines out of control whine and squeal before crashing. As the bikes crash, sprays of water fly up. As smoking components are submerged, clouds of steam rise to mark the wreckage. Scout troopers half-float, half-sink in the shallow water.
The incoming speeder guns its engines. A powerful wake sprays up on either side of the landspeeder as it skims across the field. Though the driver still sits decapitated in his seat, the passenger has leaned over and is directing the vehicle with outstretched hands. You can see his head poking up over the dash. He appears to be a human male wearing an Imperial Army uniform. His hat is a little askew, but from the look of him he is a seargent.
In the back of the vehicle, you see another sentient being. It is a barabel, green-scaled with large red blotches. Though currently hunched in the back seat, it looks as though it would stand fully two meters tall. Its already-large mouth is twisted into a gruesome grimace, revealing rows of pointed teeth. Its armour plating is a mishmash of plating and ceramics, some covered in furs or scaly skin.
The speeder skids to a stop only meters from the Rebels' position. The army sergeant stays in his seat, but the barabel doesn't hesitate. Even as the craft is slowing, he leaps from the back seat and lands in the water. It's probably a little deeper than he intended, and he is forced to slog the last little bit to get to your position.
Once he is there, he doesn't hesitate. From somewhere he has produced an ugly-looking disruptor pistol, and in his other hand he holds a wide-bladed vibroblade. In a smaller creatures' hand it would be a sword's blade, but he holds it like a knife.
The barabel hisses and snarls. "Now you will feel the claws of Rissk the Bloody!" He swings his blade up with lightning speed.
Forim leans back with a star pilot's reflexes, barely dodging the incoming attack. The sheer ferocity of the attack is enough to cause the Rebels pause. With just a moment's hesitation, can they successfully counter-attack?
The Force rolled 1 failure, 3 advantages using the Star Wars Edge of the Empire with a dice pool of 2p 2a 2d. Rissk melee v. Forim.
Spending advantages to add 1s to all melee attacks.
The army sergeant is currently at Close range with cover. Attacks on him are 1d1c1s. Rissk is Engaged, so difficulty depends on weapon used. Melee/Brawl 1d1c1s, RL 1d1c1s, RH 2d1c1s.