Not so sure I agree with this facebook stuff anymore. I'd rather go back to pretending everyone on here wasn't... well, you know what I mean ;)
9 yrs ago
It's my Birthday. I am drunk, and will get worse as the night draws in. That's... that's all. Now all I need is an option to post all the messy photos :P
Bio
I like to write stories, and no genre is beyond me.
Sounds good but I guess I'll be leaving that until tomorrow. It's currently 3 AM here and I think it's not a healthy time for me. I'll have a post up by then but if you can beat me to it, it'd fine by me.
Traditionally, I narrate a character's arrival into the RP.
However, I'm going out in an hour, and then when I come back, I'll be too drunk to write anything worth a damn.
So I'll break from tradition here, and let you enter things by yourself. However, here's the general outline of what your char is going to walk into, okay?
They'll arrive outside the carpark, as the rest of the survivors are scrambling to escape the legion of the dead. How or why they've stumbled upon the scene, is up to you, although I'd of probably described it as them being chased there - or drawn by the gun fire.
So, looking at this carpark, Amy can see that the dead have swarmed around the front end of it. She saw soldiers heading in there, and they're a good bet of getting out of this mess right? So she wants to see if she can reach them.
Well, it'd be perfectly possible for her to get in through an area that isn't being swarmed with the dead, and then move up to the next floor by using the staircase. Every carpark has one right? It'll be barricaded no doubt, but a human should be able to get over all that stuff.
Then she gets to the top level, walks out the door and hey presto she's with everyone.
... but if you don't think you can do that, then leave it until tomorrow and I'll take care of Amy's entry for you, no worries.
EDIT: Amelia sorry, for some reason I had "Amy" in my head. But yeah, you get the point.
Well, your NPCs are background characters - to be used and abused at will. I wouldn't expect someone to post 16 times, just to clarify what everyone in their squad was up to.
Think of how books are, when the protagonist is in charge of a team/force/army of minor characters. Notice how the story doesn't really focus on the dozens, hundreds or thousands, but rather just on the protagonist? And that the minor character's actions are usually narrated briefly or vaguely, with their thoughts and feelings excluded.
It'd kinda go like that, I mean, that's how I'd play it anyway.
So in this war zone, you'd be looking for the more social side of things? Sitting round tables in bunkers, talking loads and exchanging money over card games?
I was thinking of the players starting in the same area, and coordinating their efforts against a common front, as you have said. I mean the characters are obviously going to meet, aren't they? That's why I chose squad leaders, not divisional commanders. Squads are small enough to allow for intimate contact, but big enough so that the player doesn't become an insignificant grain of sand in a meat grinder.
I guess it depends on peoples' preferences. I've never liked the whole "sit down and talk" social themed RPs, because they bore the hell out of me. I like action, adrenaline and heroism. So naturally, the RP I made is centred around my inspirations.
Operation Shackle was an attempt by Ironcoast's Army Group Lightning to annex the Greymontian capital in a matter of weeks. In the oppening days of the offensive, Greymont's standing army was all but obliterated by the onslaught.
Charcter/Squad/Squadron List
Infantry Squads
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Mechanised Infantry Squads
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Armoured Squadrons
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Weaponised Mech Squadrons
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Greymont Aviation Corps Squadrons
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Greymont Air Navy Squadrons
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The Outbreak of the Great Steam War
The United Workers Republic of Greymont, and the Imperial Corporate State of Ironcoast have long been bitter neighbours, even before the steam revolution that brought about the rapidly changing face of the world.
After a series of successive industrial based revolts a century ago, Greymont has largely been led by trade unions and has spearheaded human rights reforms in favour of workers, and has cracked down on big business ventures. Over the years, Greymont's progressive attitudes have earned it many international friends, but its highly bureaucratic systems, and the introduction of its so called "Wellfare State" initiative, have stalled its economy.
The Imperial Corporate State of Ironcaost in contrast, is led by influential business leaders, who pull hidden strings behind an impotent Imperial throne. Human rights for workers are non existent, and lives are traded easily for commerce. Ironcoast's industry is huge, the largest in the world indeed, and her coffer's are swollen with an abundance of gold - bought by the misery of untold millions who worked to put it there. Worker revolts are always put down with maximum force, trade unions are illegal, and attempts to change the system are halted by the many corporations operating in Ironcoast. In essence, Ironcost is a fantastic place to live - as long as you're rich - and a terrible place to live, if you're not born to the privileged elite.
Greymont's progressive attitudes however, are damaging Ironcoast from within. Trade Union propaganda crosses the borders daily, stirring up trouble for the Ironcoast Business Alliance. Riots are becoming widespread, and each wave of police machine-gun fire brings international condemnation - to the point of trade embargoes. Greymont has been working with other nations to try and hamper Ironcoast's rising military and industrial power, but now things have reached a point of grave military inflammation.
Ironcoast worked swiftly to mobilise Army Group Lighting. 6,000,000 combat troops, 27,000 aircraft, 16,000 armoured vehicles and 6,000 steam mechs arrived on the border over four weeks. This troop build up was detected by Greymont's smaller but modern army, and the Trade Unions issued a stern proclamation to Ironcoast.
"The recent build up of Corporate Troops on the eastern borders of Greymont have been seen as an undeniable military provocation. To continue your course of action, sirs and madams of the Business Alliance, will lead to war - a war that Greymont will not shy away from." - Diplomatic Communique #335, from the Trade Unions of Greymont to the Business Alliance of Ironcoast, 32nd day of Spring II S.E 71.
On the first day of Summer I, Corporate Forces launched Operation Shackle - a three pronged attack over the Greymont border, with the aim of swiftly traversing the country's open plains and encircling the Greymontian capital of Equatas. Their attack was indeed swift, as it was devastating, and the Trade Union forces on the border were badly out numbered, and soon routed or encircled. The fifth Unionist Infantry Division struck back the following day, across a broad front, but was hopelessly out fought and crumbled in the face of the sheer Corporate numbers.
The Trade Union leaders called an emergency council that night, as they realised the size and scope of the invasion. They immediately passed the Tools for Guns Act - aimed to conscript 35% of every man and woman between the ages of 14 and 55 into the Trade Union Army. Furthermore, they redirected the country's impressive industry to the production of arms, in a bid to bridge the gap between Greymont's and Ironcoast's ownership of mechanised weapons.
Meanwhile, Operation Shackle continued at blinding speed, capturing the border cities of Newcroft and Conveyorton within the week - despite the presence of a large worker militia. Trade Union high command threw together a defensive line fifty miles west of the border, consisting of all sixteen regular Greymontian infantry divisions in a feat of miraculous logistics. However, Ironcoast's well established airforce bombed the line into oblivion, creating several breaches for their Mechanised Divisions to surge through.
By the 28th of Summer I, Ironcaost's Army Group Lightning had secured ground to the north, east and south of Equatas, and were preparing to launch their attack on the city proper. Over two million men, three thousand aircraft, two thousand armoured vehicles and a thousand mechs were gathered for the operation.
Opposing them, were several dozen Worker Divisions, courtesy of the Tools for Guns Act.
This is their story.
RP Summary
Players assume the rank of Shop Supervisor, a Trade Union military rank given to squad or squadron leaders.
Ironcoast's military is extremely advanced, containing , aircraft, airships, steam-mechs, artillery and of course an abundance of rifle-armed infantry.
Greymont's military by contrast, is largely experimental and patchy. The Trade Unions have attempted to churn out tonnes of war machines in a very short space of time, and none of them are standardised. Their guns as well, have been thrown together in a fit of rushed madness. No one unit looks the same, or uses the same weapons. Ammunition has been standardised to some extent, but in the chaos of the impending battle, Trade Union high command's sole aim is simply produce as much as they can to ensure the Worker Divisions have something to fight with.
Players therefore, will design the units in their squad or squadron, from the weapons to the vehicles.
A squad consists of 16 soldiers, but can be customised to include an armoured vehicle or two - or mechs.
A squadron can be used to describe 12 aircraft, 3 airships or 8 armoured vehicles/tanks/mechs.
The Trade Unionist command chain is messy, and currently, most units operate with total operational freedom - devoid of any overarching orders, other than "Defend the capital!". This is a mixed blessing, but it does allow players to do as they wish in the vast urban landscape.
Equatas is a thirty-five mile wide circle of factories, cramped housing estates, government districts, train tracks and narrow roadways. It has a series of airports and airship docks. The river Equa passes through the city from north to south, and the two halves are joined by a dozen bridges of varying sizes.
Ironcoast Military Units
The players have the freedom to conjure up their own Ironcoast units, that they'd like to encounter. However, here are some jumping off points for aforementioned conjuring.
The Iron Guard are the elite forces of Ironcoast, and are hardened veterans of colonial conflicts. Unlike the Corporate Foot, the Iron Guard are not conscripts, and their morale is near-unbreakable.
They come equipped with everything, from bolt-action rifles, armour piercing rifles, portable Gatling guns, submachine guns, grenades and swords. They typically wear heavy armour, that protects them from shrapnel and some lower-powered small arms.
Their trade mark tactics are to charge an enemy position on foot, after it has been bombarded by gas shells.
Corporate Foots are the regular soldiers of Ironcoast's armed forces, and all of them are conscripts. Their morale and quality varies greatly from unit to unit, but they number in the millions. They are usually used to wear an enemy down, before the more elite Iron Guard are employed to finish the situation.
Armed with bolt-action rifles, armour piercing rifles and grenades, they are versatile foot soldiers, and form the backbone of any Ironcoast army.
Weaponised Mechs (WMs) are large humanoid vehicles, usually powered by steam, but newer models are diesel based. Players will typically encounter the former, and will find their appearance varies greatly - as does their armaments. From Gatlin guns, to cannons and crude missiles, Weaponised Mechs are more mobile thank tanks, but lack their protective armour.
Normally WMs accompany infantry assaults, and provide squads with a base of fire power. However, they make big targets due to their large profile, and suffer when out in the open against a concealed enemy.
Ironcoast's Armoured Divisions are numerous and diverse, but typically contain a multitude of tracked armoured vehicles with either cannons and machineguns (or both!) mounted on them. One of the key defining characteristics however, of Ironcoast's tanks, is that they usually lack a turret. This is because Ironcoast's military thrives upon mass production, and omitting a turret from tank designs is a good way to increase production and reducing costs, but allows for a larger calibre weapon to mounted in the body.
Typically, they are devastating in anti-tank operations, but suffer against infantry and confined quarters if left unprotected by mechanised infantry.
Ironcoast's air forces rely on bi-planes, though single-winged variants are being brought in to service. Fast, agile and outfitted with either machineguns or bombs, they can either be a nuisance or deadly. Many older models are steam powered, but a switch to diesel has been rapidly enforced across the width of the Ironcoast air force. This has resulted in faster, smaller craft. Some proponents of air warfare have argued against this change, stating that combustion engines are unreliable and more expensive to maintain.
Traditionally, they are used to defend airships against enemy interceptors, so are not normally a direct issue for ground troops.
Ironcoast's airships are as deadly as they are numerous. Typically, their sole purpose is bring death upon the enemy from above. There are several types of airships, some smaller, some larger, but most are powered by steam. More advanced diesel variants are being brought into the war, but these are few and far between.
They usually fly over a war zone in straight horizontal lines, unloading their payload of bombs to flatten an entire area. Indeed, it was this tactic that so easily broke the Trade Unionist line that attempted to halt the invasion, just a couple of weeks previous to the battle of Equatas.
The Game Master's Role
As GM, I will fulfil the following duties to the RP:
Police players like any GM would.
Guide the characters to the story's conclusion.
Create situations for the characters to deal with.
Kill characters who make grave errors. Walking through the jungle without checking the floor, is an example of a grave error.
Fast forward the story in the event of a lull.
Kill characters who go AFK for 72 hours.
Kill or maim characters who appear to be bull sh*tting their way to victory.
Player Rules
The usual do's and don'ts of any RP.
Be nice to each other.
Be nice to me.
Don't be a kid. Even if you are one. I expect maturity and politeness at all times.
GM's posts are final in most circumstances, and events that are said to have happened within them, are written in stone.
Whiners will meet a terrible end.
Post rate - 1 per 72 hours (3 days) minimum.
Character Rules
A list of advisories to consider when playing your character.
Any NPCs the GM puts down, can be killed/incapacitated by a player within their post. They do not need my approval. However if I sense that a character is getting a bit too OP, I may intervene and murder it.
Display caution at all times. The GM will punish a character's mistakes and carelessness with death or injury.
If a character dies, the player remains in the game, and is able to make another.
If you're seen visibly giving orders by the enemy, they might clock you as an officer and take a special interest in you. Caution!
Characters that do not post within 72 hours, without a warning of absence from their owner, will meet an unfortunate end.
Technology In Use
The Great Steam War is called that for a reason.
Steam engines rule the day, and form the mainstay of the world's armed forces as far as power sources are concerned. Most tanks, mechs and airships rely on steam-based engines to operate, and some infantry equipment relies on similar technology.
However, the Great Steam War is also a bridge between Steampunk and Dieselpunk, with combustion engines making their appearance on the battlefield for the first time. Diesel-based engines are more powerful, refined and allow for bigger and faster war machines. Though, bear in mind that combustion engines are just coming into existence, and are not wide spread - except for the use in aeroplanes (although many remain steam-based).
So any dieselpunk equipment and war machines the players choose to use, will be considered highly experimental, and the GM may feel obliged to step in and strike characters with "engine faults" and stalls. Maybe the occaisional explosion too, if I feel they're being too OP.
As for weapons, small arms are around the same tech as the real world's 1918. By the end of World War One, submachineguns were being brought into service, but were crude. Anti-tank weapons were also clunky affairs.
I'll have leniency on what players choose to go for, because part of the RP's fun will be bringing your own creations to the battlefield, but I will deny stuff that comes across as OMFG POWERFUL LOL :D.
POST DIRECTLY INTO CHARACTER TAB AND AWAIT APPROVAL. IF YOU POST IT INTO THE OOC, I WILL WRITE YOU OFF AS AN IDIOT WHO DOESN'T READ ANYTHING.
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Physical Description:
It's probably best to actually describe the character if you are going to rely on a picture, or you can do without the picture if you like, but definitely describe.
Skillset:
Talents one has either naturally or through education or training of some sort.
History:
Explain how your character got there -- no 'the story will come out in RP' lines, please -- I want a feel for where your character is coming from. Feel free to work up names and places and so forth. Be sure to mention arrests or feuds and debts and the such.
Equipment:
Squad/Squadron Sheet
Squad/Squadron Name: (Radio callsign)
Age Group: Some squads might be made from the old and infirm, or the young and wreckless - or both.
Gender Ratio: Some squads are segregated with "no girls/boys" allowed rules, whilst others are mixed.
The African man nodded at Captain Ishida, "yes, safe, very safe." He paused, looking at the emerging tide of shamblers as they picked themselves up after falling over the lower level's wall. "We can hold them here, if you can get um, heli... hover plane?"
The SUV rocked and rattled as dead hands and bodies threw themselves against it. It wouldn't last long.
"Hey," the African said suddenly. "Wasn't there more of you?" Then he suddenly noticed the absence of the little girl he'd seen, and grimaced. "Ah... well come, come, let's go to top. We can make more block if need be, not all cars got keys, but most will move if we push."
The SUV started to turn on its back wheels as the press of the dead forced the front of the vehicle to move - like some kind of big clunky gate.
Meanwhile, no one had noticed that Garret Mercer had fallen unconscious on the carpark's ground level - finally succumbing to the blood loss. In the chaos of everything, the group had lost another.
Lieutenant colonel Jay M. Johnson sat at a marked and scarred mahogany desk; somewhat a relic of France's occupation some thirty years previous. The room in which he had situated his office, the manager's quarters in a run down Qui Nhơn hotel of French design, was suffering from decades of neglect. The wall paper was peeling, the ceiling fan hadn't worked since Hitler pushed through the Ardennes, and the stifling heat from outside was quickly turning the room into a microwave oven.
He flicked through the pages of after action reports, high lighting casualties and musing over ammunition usage, and stopping briefly to tap the ash from his cigarette. God, how he hated this country.
Charlie wouldn't fight fairly! Always hit and run! Cowards, the lot of them. Lieutenant colonel Jay M. Johnson was top of his game though, when it came to adapting to these kinds of tactics; indeed, the 227th Aviation Regiment had been the 1st Cavalry Division's highest achieving formation since '66. Casualties were quite low, and enemy losses were sky rocketing. They'd lost 24 birds in 2 years of brutal fighting, not a bad number by any count. Today, they'd lost 3.
It seemed Charlie had counter-adapted to Johnson's strategy of using his helicopter formations like a lance, spearing deep into enemy territory in one long line, to minimise the amount of the ground they would have to cover horizontally. Somehow Division had failed to register a large NVA build up in Lima Sector - and early reports suggested an entire brigade had shifted there overnight. They'd maintained radio silence, and allowed Operation Zeus to go ahead unimpeded, only to ambush A Company on its return. Three Hueys had gone down, and the rest was forced to withdraw.
Johnson's first instinct was to gather everything he had, inform Divisional of his decision to cut Charlie to shreds, and head out there himself to oversee retribution. However, most of his elements were already off on other missions, and recalling them would create one fuck-ton of a headache.
There was a knock at the door, and Johnson lent back in his leather chair as Major Chris Thomspon entered carrying more papers. "We've intercepted radio chatter from Charlie, Sir," he said. He paused as the heat of room washed over him. "Christ Jay, how do you bare this heat?"
Jay and Chris had served with each other for ten years, and not always in the cavalry. When they were in public spaces, they maintained strict military procedures and etiquette. In the safety of Jay's office, they were just two guys, hanging out at some FUBAR summer retreat.
"Keeps the pricks away," Jay said with a smile. "So what have we got?"
The Major started flicking through the papers, "seems something has Charlie riled up in Lima. They're persuing someone, but they wont say who. No use of the word "Imperialists" so that's got to be good, right?"
Jay raised an eyebrow. "Any ARVN in the area?"
"No, Jay, Arvin is still chilling at Outpost #289 to the south east of Lima. They're too shit scared to go beyond the sandbags," the Major replied, shaking his head.
"Well, let's get them in the war," Jay replied, standing up from his chair to gaze through the crooked blind of the room's only window. "We've got boys out there, Thomas, I'm sure of it. What are the odds? Three birds down, and yet some survivors - a downed Huey is normally a full KIA affair."
"How can you be sure, Jay?" Thomas asked, confused. "They could be after anyone, from unruly locals to a rogue VC unit."
"I can't, and I can't send out my men on a goose chase. Arvin though, our good friend Arvin - I can send him where I want. Outpost #289 is still ours to delegate, right?"
"Yes Jay, but I do-"
"Good. What do they have?" Jay asked, opening the blind slightly.
"Two companies, belonging to the 22nd Infantry Division. They've got a detachment of M113's with them, but I doubt they'd be much use. You'd be sending them on a suicide run, Jay, into the jungle with no aerial assets and no reconnaissance," Thomas said, getting irritated at his friend. Of the two, Thomas was always the humanitarian.
"They'll be our reconnaissance until I can free up resources. Have Hill 91 prepare its AH's for intervention though, I don't think they're anywhere else at present. Tell them to cancel all planned ops. Tell them if they hear Americans on the line, asking for help in Lima, they're to react with full operational freedom - but I'd like to know ASAP if they do. In the meantime, have Arvin make a 'recon in force' into Lima, but have him stop if he meets stiff resistance. Charlie is probably long gone by now anyway, but I want to make sure."
"You're an ass hole Jay," Thomas said, shaking his head. "Of course Charlie is still there. Lima is perfectly defensible, and he wont move until we force him to. Those boys at Outpost #289 are going to be rotting on the jungle floor before tomorrow comes."
"This is war Thomas, and in war, people die. We both know this. Make it happen."
