The burning chain saw crashed into the thick greenish hide of the Trog and began tearing...and burning...and grinding its way in.  The Trog howled for a moment before it was cut off.  Torn, burning, and bleeding, the Trog collapsed to the ground in a kicking, gurgling mess....

SECOND TROG DOWN

ROUND THREE!

The green robed priest seemed to be getting his raiders under control and directed them against the boat raiders.  Those raiders had been successful so far....mostly due to the surprise of the amphibious assault.  Now directed, the weirdos were maneuvering to push them back into the water...  Lead by the green clad, leather studded priest...

That priest sang in gravely, hateful voice, "PLANETS DEVASTATED!  MANKIND ON THEIR KNEES!!"  As he sang, his hands seemed to reach out for something...then draw it in... The air between those hands glowed as he compressed it.  He then threw his hands out again.  A rippling field of green glowing light sizzled into existence in front of the priest and the raiders closest to him...

Judas casts DEFLECTION, multiple recipients.

Attacks vs. Judas and a handful of Weirdoes are at -2 as the field burns and rips at the atomic structure of projectiles.

I did not give a card to the other Weirdoes.  They will be "fighting" the boat raiders.

Round 3 FIGHT!

23:32, Today: Prospector drew the 6 cards: JD, JC, JS, 9H, 10D, AC using a deck of 54 cards.  Round 3 Initiative Draw - Dean, Fletcher, Harry, Kelly, Drumma, Judas Priest.

Judas Priest - AC (Deflection -2)
Kelly - JS (Deflection -2)
Dean - JD
Fletcher - JC
Drumma - 10D
Harry - 9H



Fletcher! - You have three Tokens so far! ONE MORE.  Last Round for it.

DEAN, FLETCHER, KELLY GOOOOOOOOOO!

Fletcher reached deeper into the machine.  He heard the musical incantation that he assumed was one of the green robed priests calling on the power of radiation.  Whatever the man intended it couldn't be good.

Stretching his fingers just a bit more Fletcher almost dropped his pliers, but caught them just before they fell into the inaccessible depths of the reactor.

Instead their well worn jaws gripped the final wire he thought he needed and, with a grunt, he pulled it free.


Fletcher rolled 2,2.  WD, WS.

Fletcher rolled 4.  Red chip +1d6.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:08, Tue 15 Sept 2020.

Well that was simple at least, Kelly had to cut her way through to the priest.  It was time to do what Templars do:  try to fight things that far outclass Templars armed with a piece of sharp metal.

Not sure what Kelly can reach but I'm sure she can reach something and fight it so here's rolls to interpret liberally!

19:38, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 11,5 using d10+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 9,3.  Fighting - WA, ITW, -2 Deflection.

11 miiiiight be a raise, so either 16 or 19 damage, bear in mind this is also with AP2 if that matters

19:38, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 8,8,3 using d8+2,d6,d8, rerolling max with rolls of 6,(6+2)8,3.  Strength, Sword, Possible Raise.

The whole charging with the troops thing was not his thing.  Not his role.  Not even how he thought.  He got low, swung wide and flanked.  He used the crossbow, letting the quiet weapon get lost in the chaos of the battle.  But he kept moving, knowing the troops that met the flanking team weren't the threat. The real threat was always the commander.  Didn't matter if the commander was human, mutant or some super psychic alien on a distant world.  Find the commander and kill him were familiar orders and territory for him; after that the battles tended to get quite a bit easier in his experience.

So he kept moving around, shooting when a good target presented itself.  But his goal was to get close enough to find the leader.  And luckily the robed mutant just like talking and screaming and announcing himself.  The whole weird power thing was a litte bit of a hitch though.  Still, it was one he could compensate for.  Everything could be with a little extra planning and work.  And bullets.  Great equalize those.

He slung the crossow and pulled another weapon once he spotted the fellow.  After that, it was just a matter of patience until he got close enough.


Rising to his feet amidst the scrub from a surprisingly short distance, Dean grinned tightly. "You first," he said before pulling the trigger.  The machine pistol roared and spat lead...

"Getting slopping.  Talking too much," he muttered softly to himself as he turned to face the next challenge...or vanish and start his pattern once more!


OOC:

Sniper and assassin go stealth.  Don't care what the raiders think of me.  Still supporting and not abandoning them.  Can think what they like

Also going to assume I've used one to two thirds of my PPs since protected fight and all?  No powers up currently?  Fair?


Shooting, burst.  3 shooting rolls and 1 wild.  Assuming get the drop as am stealthed.  Is a net +2 to hit (-2 deflection, short range, +4 drop).

Wild die
20:28, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 4 using 1d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 2.

Shooting die
20:28, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 5 using 1d8+2, rerolling max with rolls of 3.

20:28, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 6 using 1d8+2, rerolling max with rolls of 4.

20:28, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 8 using 1d8+2, rerolling max with rolls of 6.

So 1 raise,  hits.

Damages (all have AP 1):
20:30, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 12 using 2d6+4, rerolling max with rolls of 4,4.

20:30, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 8 using 2d6+4, rerolling max with rolls of 3,1.

Raise Damage:
20:30, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 23 using 3d6+4, rerolling max with rolls of 5,3,(6+5)11.

So... that 12 damage, 8 damage and 23 damage to Judas.

So, striking out above as spending bennies to fix (and do it right).  A red to reroll.  All at -4 due to Protection and Burst Fire.

14:36, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 0 using 1d6-4, rerolling max with rolls of 4.

14:36, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 0 using 1d8-4, rerolling max with rolls of 4.

14:36, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled -2 using 1d8-4, rerolling max with rolls of 2.

14:36, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 0 using 1d8-4, rerolling max with rolls of 4.

Spending a Blue to add a d6 to rolls.
14:37, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4.  Blue for adding.

So that makes the previous rolls:
From d8s:
4, 2, 4

And from Wild:
4.

So that's 3 hits (no raises).

Damages:  All 2d6 with 1 AP.
14:41, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 14 using 2d6, rerolling max with rolls of 3,(6+5)11.

14:41, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 5 using 2d6, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4.

14:41, Today: Secret Roll: Dean Mitchel rolled 13 using 2d6, rerolling max with rolls of (6+4)10,3.

14, 5, and 13 for damage.

This message was last edited by the player at 18:43, Thu 17 Sept 2020.

Beach Raid Fight (Dean, Fletcher, Judas Priest, Boat Raiders, A lot of Weirdoes)

Dean's machine pistol spat a swarm of lead at the robed mutant screeching yet another ancient rock anthem (no doubt).  The rounds flared as they passed the glowing barrier; scorching, melting, and tumbling off target.  They tumbled through the air past the priest and his fanatics.

Invisibility doesn't necessarily grant The Drop.  It would make it easier to get the Drop when someone is not expecting combat.  You can maneuver around them to best advantage.   In this case, its in the middle of of an ongoing fight so he's already expecting to be shot at and its difficult to maneuver around him in the midst of his minions.  Invisibility still makes it darn near impossible to hit you or pick you out as a threat in all this mess.

Also, Automatic Fire has a -2 recoil penalty.

So each shot fires at -4 (-2 Recoil, -2 Deflection)

---

Camp Road Fight (Harry, Kelly, Drumma, The Lockesburg Militia, A lot more Weirdoes, and dead Trogs)

Kelly's sword lashed out again, skating past and under the big mutant's whirling maces.  It threatened to carve its way between the chest and back plates of her scrap armor.  Drumma shifted just enough at the last moment to turn the sword's edge and let it skate off to the side.  But it was a very close thing.

But Drumma was not one to let a close call really bother her too much.

Her maces swept back around...  The first crashed down from above, the second swept in from the side right after...

Drumma lands two hits on Kelly.

Hit #1 - 26 - Shaken, 4 Wounds
Hit #2 - 18 - Shaken, 2 Wounds

Drumma's Parry is reduced to 5

Assume Harry will be heading into the fray.
First Strike (Just to get it out of the way) - 19 to Hit, 12 Damage.  So, it will hit him solidly and do little else.

Harry.....GOOOOO

Also, Kelly there's hits to deal with...

Harry, seeing the woman completely smashing in Kelly, screams in rage and charges, ignoring the hit from her mace flat out as he dove at her with his spinning, flaming chainsaw.

((OOC: Ouch. This bitch hits like a truck. Alrighty, so it's Chainsaw Time. Going for a Wild Attack, because Harry does NOT like what happened to Kelly.

23:51, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 3,6 using d8+2,d6+2, rerolling max with rolls of 1,4.  Fighting, Wild Attack. (I just remembered I have a -1 Wound penalty, so it's actually a 5, but that's still enough to hit)

...well, at least I hit.

With the Wild Attack, that's +2 to Damage, so I get d10+d6+6 total, with AP 2

23:54, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 4,7 using d10,d6+6, rerolling max with rolls of 4,1.  Damage.

...You suck, die roller. That's 11 damage, AP 2. Which might get ONE Wound on her, considering that Kelly's massive attack only did 2. But hey, she's also On Fire, so that's something at least.

Harry's Parry is down to 4 from the Wild Attack.))

19:37, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 15 using 1d35, rerolling max with rolls of 15.  cheep.

lol that's a White.  I better just save that for Incapacitation, no way in hell I'm soaking that

Kelly hit the ground hard, everything going blurred and slow....  Mercifully the rock warsong was drowned out by a dull ringing...  Her vision darkened on one side, clouding over like night across half a sky...

Kelly!  I'm just going to call it one hit, since the first one Incapped, the second was more just to knock her aside.  Your injury is a Head Injury!  Specifically, the brow, socket and cheek bones of the right side of her face have been cracked badly.  Perhaps even to the point of permanently damaging her right eye.  One Eyed!  Vigor roll! Result of 1 or less....death!  Failure = Injury is Permanent and you are Bleeding Out.  Success - Injury goes away when wounds are healed.  Raise - Goes away in 24 hours, wounds healed or no.

Drumma might have been a bit surprised when her spinning mace failed to even slow the cyborg charging in.  But she didn't have long to think about it before having to deal with the flaming chainsaw snarling down at her.  She managed to get her maces between herself and the terrible weapon, which ground at the handles throwing spark and flames.  They scorched and sizzled against her tough hide, but she did not go up in flames... yet...

Soaked the Wound!  Checked for catching fire, but she did not this time

---

One of the tumbling, scorched and charred rounds from Dean's chattering pistol cracked against the shield of a mutant Weirdo on the other side of the radpriest...hurtling back at him again!  But it had lost so much momentum that it did little more than bounce off his thick, studded leather trimmed robes...

When you use a chip to add to a roll with multiple dice, like auto fire, it only adds to one of the rolls.  I chose to keep the largest damage one.  Soaked the Wound.

---

But all of those bullets...  all the gunfire...  all the casualties the boat raiders were taking had been for a purpose.  To keep the radpriest and his weirdoes focused elsewhere.  To keep them from noticing Fletcher monkeywrenching around in the weird arcane and technological systems of the reactor.

And it worked.

Fletcher had been able to find some of the original systems.  The ones dealing with keeping the system in balance.  Reactors are always maintained in a careful balance....  if something goes out of balance, the whole thing begins to succumb to the power in itself...  It just needed a push.  And a few more bits of sabotage to make sure no one would be able to stop what he'd started...

The music died.

The lights and machines of the camp died.

New lights sprang to life along the reactor though.  Along with klaxons screaming a warning that the system was breaking down.  Out of balance.  The original systems cascading into failure, which also seemed to cascade through whatever Doomsayer and Junker magicks had been worked into it....

The Judas Priest screamed in near panic at the sight, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?  YOU'll SET HIM FREE!!!"  Ignoring the gun fire aimed at him, the priest ran /towards/ the reactor...chanting...begging...pleading for the power of the Glow to stop what was coming!

The weirdoes that had been rallying to the priest did not seem inclined to follow him towards the doomed reactor and looked like they were trying to figure out how best to get away....

More waves of heat began to ripple the air around the reactor as it spun towards....what's the word...  Meltdown?

A spot in the side of the reactor housing glowed brightly...burning at the metal....  It looked like....a handprint...

Fletcher!  You succeeded!  YAY!  Now what?  The situation at the reactor is....even more chaotic than it was...

So, Fletcher and Dean - WHAT DO YOU DO NOW?

---

Back at the Camp Entrance, the fighting still raged between the Lockesburgers and the Weirdoes.   Between the mace-wielding Drumma and the chainsaw-fisted Cyborg.  But the dying of the music had a chilling effect.  The distinctive warning klaxons were even more chilling.

For a moment...the fighting seemed to pause as everyone suddenly had a new thought...threat...to assess....

Kelly!  Make that Incap roll and we'll see what Kelly is capable of.
Harry!  You can't really see the reactor persay, but those alarms sound BAD.  What do you do!

After you all act, I'll have some reactions as seemed fitting and then....more will happen....

Fletcher had been hoping for a slow build up, then something useful like an explosion.

He was worried now that the outcome was going to be something altogether different, and probably not good.

As was his nature he took the prudent action and began to run in whatever direction seemed safest in regards to both the combatants on the field as well as the reactor and whatever was about to happen.

Fletcher signaled the rest of the Lockesburg folk to do the same and beat feet as he went.

Right.  I believe you do not apply penalties from the wounds you are about to take to the roll, at least I hope that's right lol

19:09, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 2,4 using d8,d6, rerolling max with rolls of 2,4.  Vigor.

That is a success, I'll take it

((OOC: Harry is going to grab up Kelly and run for the Dog.))

Battles have always been chaotic spaces.  There are ebbs and flows.  Surges.... feints... maneuvers...  Sudden shifts...  The tides of battle can turn suddenly.  The blaring of the klaxons seemed to cause such a shift.  The mutant raiders noticed it first.  A sudden fear spread through the ranks from their rear.  A panic.  Some started to run back towards the camps.  Some began to break away at the edges to run....anywhere...  The rest struggled to hold the front against the Lockesburg militia.

Drumma reeled back from the sparks and flames that spread across her upper body.  It offered Harry enough of an opening to scoop up the fallen Templar in a massive metal arm.  He began clanking back towards the Dog.  The Dog and its fighters still held the center of the line.  Prudence and Delilah had stationed themselves on top of the cab, both hands filled with pistols.  The pair of gunslingers were taking turns unleashing their deadly skills to stymie and blunt the repeated assaults on the Dog and the militia fighters surrounding it.  Blood trickled from a variety of wounds that they were currently ignoring.

The sight of Harry charging /back/ towards them while carrying the Templar brought the pair up  short.  They shared a glance...then began concentrating their aim on clearing away any raider who might impede the cyborg's progress.

All along the line the fight began to ebb as the raiders lost nerve and drive...  The Lockesburgers were at first cheering the sudden turn of the tide...then they too started to realize what the klaxons might mean.  Down the line the fARMOR trucks loosed their devastating heavy spears still.  McKellar stood atop one of the trucks; gouts of flame roaring from his skull at the ranks of the mutants.  He looked up too at the sound...and started to wave his people back to the trucks.

It wouldn't be easy....or quick...to disengage the forces...

---

Nearer the reactor, Fletcher, Dean, and the Boat Raiders had an easier time disengaging.  But they were also much more clear about how little time they might have at all.  What was left of the Boat Raiders had made it back to the boats, slowed only a little by having to fight off some of the weirdoes who realized that the boats might be a really good way to bug out....

The radpriest continued his chanting and arcane hand waving.  He was surrounded by glowing green energy which he poured towards the reactor.  Whatever he hoped that it would do....it did not seem to be having positive results.  The glowing handprint brightened to a blinding yellow light as the metal was heated beyond its melting point, flash boiling away in sparks of molten metal.  A hand, burning bright without flame pushed its way out as the rest of the surrounding metal began heating and boiling away to allow something else to exit....

The figure that emerged from the molten mess of the reactor core glowed nearly like a sun.  So blinding it was almost impossible to look at it for any length of time.  The ground burned where it stepped.  The klaxons were beginning to die out, but a new sound was already there to take the place... a scream of hate and rage and pain.

The radpriest, realizing his failure, started to stumble back away from the thing from the core.  He did not get far as the thing waved a hand in his direction.  The rad priest burned away almost instantly.  Leaving only a robed shadow blasted across the wall of the reactor control trailer.  Other weirdoes, fool enough to have tried to stand their ground with their priest met similar fates, leaving little more than blasted dust...

THREE

It seems like the general idea is to move /away/ from the reactor and the Core Thing?

Lets go with more Dramatic Tasks.  Describe how you are trying to get away, fight off fleeing weirdoes trying to also get away, organize the militia to get away, etc.  Make your roll.

As there are three of you (Kelly is still pretty out of it for now).  You'll need to get 10 Successes over the next three rounds to get the majority of the Lockesburg force away from the havoc the Core Thing will be wreaking...

Kelly!  On each of the three rounds, if you want, you can describe what Prudence, Delilah, or Crowboy are doing in the midst of all this.  If they are helping, make the roll for them (stats should be available).  But no Wild Die.

Fletcher waved on the remaining Lockesburg boatmen.

As they neared the launch he signaled the three best shots to stop and help cover the retreat, and for the other militia to hand over what ammo they had to the sharpshooters.

"Whatever that thing is, don't waste no bullets on it.  Use the weirdos against it.  S'long as we hobble 'em so they can't run, it'll buy time, so shoot low."  He instructed.

At the same time Fletcher pulled out a trio of discs similar to the ones that he typically used to enhance weapons, these ones however glowed green instead of blue.  He quickly slapped them on the temples of the three militia where they stuck fast and began pulsing gently.

"Just shoot like you normally would, they aught ta help, steady yer hands, focus yer aimin' eye, that sort a thing."

ooc: Fletcher is out of aces in his sleeves, so trying to fight the thing seems like it would be a last resort, so running is probably better.

Fletcher rolled 11,1.

Harry hoofed it to The Dog, revved up, and drove like the proverbial bat out of Hell. He interfaced with The Driver to navigate, crushing weirdos who got in his way.

As he retreated, he cued up some music to blare over the speakers, a warning for everyone around to get going:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJ7NVjZ-Eyg

"~I walk along the avenue~
~I never thought I'd meet a girl like you~
~Meet a girl like you~

~With auburn hair and tawny eyes~
~The kind of eyes that hypnotize me through~
~You hypnotize me through~

~And I ran~
~I ran so far away~
~I just ran~
~I ran all night and day~
~I couldn't get away~"

((OOC: Harry goes Driving. He has a +2 bonus from his cyberlink, and a -1 Wound Penalty, for a grand total of +1 to his roll.

00:26, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 12,6 using d6+1,d6+1, rerolling max with rolls of (6+5)11,5.  Driving.))

Crowboy wanted to scream, or yell, or jump into the fray, or do something.  But what actually happened was something grabbed Crowboy and rode him like a loa rides a houngan.

19:15, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 4 using 1d6, rerolling max with rolls of 4.  Notice Crowboy.

He looked over and found a fallen villager, and with surprising proficiency, put the fallen man over his shoulders in a fireman's carry and ran with him.

Prudence took the opposite approach.  She cracked off several shots, as fast as she could, as the attackers moved out, providing cover and perhaps ending some small lingering skirmishes.

19:16, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 6 using 1d10, rerolling max with rolls of 6.  Prudence Fire!

The battle changed focus.  The Lockesburgers pulled back to their vehicles, but many of the mutant raiders felt that those same vehicles might be exactly what they need to escape whatever was coming from the camps.  It was desperate fighting.  The only thing keeping the militia from being overrun was that most of the raiders decided not to bother with the vehicles and just headed for the woods and wilds beyond.  Prudence and Delilah begin switching off.  One reloading while the other provided covering fire.  That fire proved fortuitous for allowing the Saints-possessed Crowboy and his rescuee.

The crew of the Black Dog were at the center of it all.  Fighting off the raiders, trying to get militia folk back onto the trailer, moving when possible.  The growl of the Dog's engine proved effective for clearing paths to the front.  The blaring music proved a surprisingly successful rallying cry.  In the midst of it all, they could see past the raiders...  See a bright, burning light through the scrubby forest...getting closer...slowly...  And seeming to get brighter...

---

The boat raiders fought a similar battle to get back to their boats.  But, with Fletcher's arcane tech and fire direction, they made it to the boats.  Their careful fire left the raiders limping and dodging away...slowing them down and keeping them between them...and the Thing...

The boat raiders got to see the rampage of the Core-Thing far too clearly.  While the burning brightness was still painful to look at for too long, the results of the rampage were all too easy to see.  It raged towards any groups of the mutant weirdoes.
The lucky ones burned to dust under that attention... Others seemed to be drawn screaming into the light, burning with their own light till it simply joined in the pulsing light of the Core-Thing...

And the burning light of the thing got brighter each time...the light growing and burning the ground further and further from the thing.

It stopped then...  Dropping or lowering...  Impossible to see, but the light began to pulse and rotate... Faster....  Building towards.....  Something that probably can't be good...

TWO
6 out of 10 Successes!

Go team Dog!

With the other boats moving across the lake already, Fletcher waved the remaining riflemen into the last boat.

They'd come in under muscle power to maintain the element of surprise, but the old 16 foot fishing boat did have an outboard motor.

Fletcher fired it up and yanked off the cover.  As soon as the rear of the craft cleared the landing ramp he tilted it into the water and gunned it.

With one hand and a knee keeping them going in the straightest line between the spit of land the weirdo camp sight had been situated on, and the opposite shore Fletcher used the other to tweak the old motor and coax as much power as it could muster.

He forced it to the ragged edge, adjusting it moment to moment to keep it running at a point that was just short of failure for the machine.  It was likely to grenade are several minutes of such abuse but Fletcher didn't care.  It would be enough.

He hoped.

Fletcher rolled 4,2.  Wild, repair

Dean hopped into the boat with alacrity, despite the facts.  The facts being something was about to go nuclear, literally, and the odds of outrunning such a blast were pretty much non-existent.  Still, any chance was better than none.  On the plus side, this wasn't the first radiation issue people in this broken world had experienced.  Well, at least he knew how to survive it to some extent.



Survival
12:13, Today: Dean Mitchel rolled 4,5 using 1d8+2,1d6+2, rerolling max ((2,3)).

Sorry.  Been busy!

Must go faster, Harry thought as he spotted the light. Ceding control of The Dog to The Driver for a little bit, Harry grabbed his swing-cock shotgun, leaned out of the cab window, and began firing at the raiders while screaming bloody murder and laughing like a loon at them.

He wasn't trying to hit anyone, though he probably did. No, what he was trying to do was leverage the terrifying effect of a half-crazy cyborg in a clearly out-of-control rig blasting all sorts of music and raining shells on them. The goal was to clear enough to clear a path and warn off the raiders, signaling to them that whatever shreds of self-preservation and sanity they had would be best served by going anywhere else. That would hopefully ease the pressure on the Locksburg folk so they could escape the inferno.

Hopefully, he wouldn't get tossed from the cab doing this stunt...

((OOC: Intimidation time! Cyborgs get a +4 bonus to Intimidation, though Harry has a -1 Wound Penalty. He's specifically trying to leverage his appearance to this, as well as the big Black Dog seeming to have no one with their hands on the wheel.

19:04, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 10,7 using d8+3,d6+3, rerolling max with rolls of 7,4.  Intimidation.))

The shadows and wisps of hands curl over the wheel of the Dog as Harry leaned out the window.  A trucker hat with a deeply shadowed form materializes for a moment as the Driver is called back again.  Between Harry's raging and blasting, the haunted rig growling and snarling and blaring eerie horns and discordant music...  It was a truck bound, most likely, for Hell and the raiders wanted no part of that damned thing.  The Lockesburgers might have suddenly developed some second thoughts, but it was a bit late at this juncture...  The Black Dog and its crew blasted and plowed an opening for the lighter vehicles.  The fARMORS brought up the tail, making their own menacing show of spear-throwing from the ballistas and gouts of fire from McKellar....

They could all see the glow intensifying back through the trees...  Everyone knew instinctively what was coming next somehow...

The Lockesburg "marines" in their small boat flotilla did manage to fight their way off the beach, engaging the noisy smoky, barely functional engines as their last resort to get anywhere that was not there.  Not one of them could stand to look back now.  It felt as if the sun were behind them...  Exposed skin at the backs of necks and arms were already prickling under the intense light...

The lake was relatively narrow here and they were just trying to get away from the camp shore by the shortest route...  The trucks roared away along their black top escape route as quickly as could be managed...  The mutant raiders scattered everywhere... Time seemed to slow...

And then everything went suddenly white.  The brilliance of the burst of light washed everything out of visible existence for a moment.  And there wasn't much time to reckon with whether or not this blindness was permanent.  Because right on the heels of that, the shockwave of the explosion caught up.  The whole thing was eerily silent in this moment between moments as the light and pressure hit you before the sounds even could.

The shockwave grabbed the boats and pushed them suddenly nose first into the water...  But the water convulsed as well and simply threw the "marines", boats and all onto the far shore they had been straining to get to.  The trucks were buffeted by the shockwave much the same, being shoved and tossed about like toys.  The Dog managed to somehow ride it the best, but still ended up jackknifed down the road.  Other vehicles didn't stay on the road.  But the vehicles mostly stayed intact...

Everyone was rocked and thrown in some fashion, ending up knocked around severely...for some folk those knocks would leave permanent reminders.  For others, well..  they wouldn't much need reminders anymore...

Ears were left ringing at best, burst at worst.  It was a blinded and silent world most would come back into in the minutes (hours? days? nothing made much sense for a long while).  But, eventually, for most, sight and sound would start to return.  Slowly.  Later, some would even point out that they must have been lucky it wasn't a true nuclear event.  That surely would have killed them all outright, instead of the battering they did receive.

The camp, when anyone was able to look back, was gone.  A crater filling with lakewater.  The closest trees were burned away, the rest knocked away from the blast zone like some giant's hand had just swept them all over at one go.  Bodies were everywhere.  In various states of integration depending on proximity to the blast.

Except one.

Clearly visible for anyone who eventually got the clear head and wherewithal to look back closely at the camp...err crater...  Could see a body at the edge of that crater, half in the water, half on the rim.  Easy to see in the blackened and ashen landscape, as the man's skin seemed to be a bright, un-natural yellow.  Then that body started to struggle, slowly, up the rest of the way from the crater-water...

I forgot how many wounds I actually have, I know it gets screwy, like you're technically never supposed to have more than three but it depends on edition etc.

19:29, Today: Kelly MacLeod rolled 1,-2 using d8-3,d6-3, rerolling max with rolls of 4,1.  I think that's right?

Doesn't matter anyway I failed regardless.

Fletcher distinctly remembered pushing the smoky outboard engine for all it was worth.

His next memory was that of a world that was nothing but a white void.  Slowly, as if waking from a dream, the white world faded from white to one of gray dirty blue.  It took a moment more for him to gain his bearings and realize he was no longer in the boat, but sprawled on the shore staring up at the sky.  Judging from the bumps and bruises he could feel beginning to form and the sound of a dying engine off to his right he could only speculate that he'd been tossed ass over teakettle when the boat came ashore.

Fletcher regained his feet and stumbled drunkenly for a moment as he took in the scene around him.  The last thing he did was take a glance behind towards the weirdo's camp before he shook off enough of the stupor in his head and the ringing in his ears to begin moving again.

He struggled to get over to the men who looked like they were mostly beginning to move about, and went from man to man, doing his best through a lot of yelling he wasn't really aware of and even more pantomime to direct them to grab their nearest fellow boatman and help each other to get up the hill and over the road to the other side.

Fletcher didn't want whatever might still be left in that camp to see them.  If that happened it might decide to come for them.  Given current conditions that was just about a worst case scenario.

At least over the road into the opposite treeline would give them some cover so they could regroup and decide on their next move while also being in sight of the route any retreating forces were likely to take.



Fletcher rolled 1,9.  AGI, WD

The boats rocks, people got tossed about.  He hit his head on something or something hit his head; he didn't have a clue really.  It didn't do much but sting thankfully and the exposed skin was more than a tad red.  He certainly had no right to complain given what just happened.

It took a bit of time, working with Fletcher, to make sure everyone was ok.  Mime was never something he was good at.  Eventually though, they got back underway to rejoin the others.  He sure as hell hoped everyone else was alright.


OOC:
Just a quick post so I don't fall behind.

Agil
21:15, Today: Dean Mitchel rolled 6,3 using 1d8,1d6, rerolling max ((6,3)).

Damage:
21:16, Today: Dean Mitchel rolled 2 using 2d6, rerolling max ((1,1)).

Couldn't ask for less damage than that!

Fatigued!  -1

Harry hadn't been in his right mind when Judgement Day came. He'd been lost to his programming long before, having surrendered to the machine that kept his demon at bay, following his directives.

That didn't mean he hadn't seen it.

There was a bright flash and a terrible noise, followed by a shockwave that sent The Dog skidding. Harry hadn't been looking right at the flashpoint, but it was too damn bright not to notice. And the memory came flooding back, jarring loose from the layers of years.

He remembered the flashes of light, remembered registering the heat with his sensors, remembered the shock of the people in the town he'd been stationed in and the panic that had followed after. He remembered losing connection with headquarters, and shifting into autonomous activity mode. He remembered trying to act, as best he could, to keep the peace, at the direction of what remained of the city government. Those commands grew less and less humane as the years had passed, as the settlement descended into chaos and confusion. He remembered defending authorities from the people when they'd finally had enough, and getting hit with an EMP. Then there was a blankness, and then a reboot, some years later, as The Convoy people found him in the ruins.

All of this memory flashed through Harry's mind as he clutched the door of the Dog for dear life. And then...

And then it was over, and Harry pulled himself back inside. He ached a bit, and felt a little scrambled from the sudden memory rush, but once again, he'd made it through. So he went to check on Kelly, hoping that she was still alive, and that he could keep her that way long enough to get her to medical aid.

The Driver rolled on.

((OOC: Rolling Agility with a -1 Wound Penalty.

17:02, Today: Rusty Harry rolled 9,2 using D8-1,d6-1, rerolling max with rolls of (8+2)10,3.

Well, sweet. so that's 1 level of Fatigue and nothing else.))
This message was last edited by the player at 00:25, Thu 08 Oct 2020.

The battle was done.  There wasn't much now but to pick up the pieces.  The Driver managed to get the Dog righted carefully back on the road and the rig became the rally point for the Lockesburg forces.  Most of the vehicles were still rolling and they moved in.  Some, like the fARMOR trucks, forming a loose defensive perimeter at this edge of the blast zone.  Not that there was much to bother defending against.  What raiders were left had no intention of duking it out any more.

Which was good, as the Lockesburgers, while technically victorious, didn't feel much up to any more duking either.

There was a lot of wounded.  And a lot of dead.  There would probably soon be more.  Over half the Lockesburg force is a casualty of one severity or another.  The young militia rifles paid the highest price, putting themselves wherever the fighting was worst.  Standing between their folk and the enemy as they were trained.  McKellar saw to his folk.  Getting them organized.  Finding purpose.  Getting the wounded...and the dead...seen to as best they were able.  They planned to get head back to town as soon as they were able.

Amongst the Dogs, there were casualties as well.  The Templar was severely wounded.  Skull fracture.  Cracked ribs.  Concussion.  Possibly more broken.  Harry wasn't able to tell much, other than that she was in a bad way and get her to the medics.  She was alive...for now...  When Crowboy found out, he stayed at her side.  Defying anyone to make him leave.  And, perhaps surprisingly, he prayed.  Quietly.  Fervently.  Pleadingly.  He didn't have a lot of practice, but he was going to /try/.

Delilah and Prudence had been holding their firing positions on the nose and roof of the Dog at the end rush.  The blast and the skidding truck had thrown them both.  Delilah was found amongst the trees along the edge of the old road.  Her Peacemaker still held firm in her now cold hand.  What the bullets and javelins of the raiders had started on the gunfighter, the blast and the fall had finished.

Prudence had landed softer, but that is relative.  She wasn't dead.  She wasn't happy about it though.  The other Dog's would find her being helped back to the truck with a busted leg.  Maybe an arm.  Who knows what else.  X-ray machines are thin on the ground.

What was left of the boat raiders made it back to the rally point as well.  They had lost some of their number in the beach fighting....  still more in the shockwave of the blast...  Those that managed to make it back with Fletcher and Dean were pretty severely banged up.  The rest...well...  A truck was dispatched.

As soon as they were able, McKellar and his folk intended to limp back to town with everyone, living and gone, that they had managed to find.  Of course the Dogs were welcome.  In fact, not a single soul of that town seemed to feel like the crew of the Black Dog were separate in any way.  They were Lockesburgers same as the rest, for as long as they wished to be.