VashWhenever we get rich and famous, just hire a guy to forge you some glorious armor and say that it looks like that.
We could all get some kind up weapon and/or armor upgrade later in the game from some powerful guy we worked for, in lieu of or in addition to actual payment.
More or less between you and Bridge as to when and how you get it.
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Ana was more than a bit tired. Giving a beating, taking a beating, and pulling a heavy bastard out of the ocean took a lot out of someone. But, whatever, there was still work to be done. Maybe. As she stumbled back to the squad and the heavies who were still conscious, she heard the sergeant call over to her and ask about weapons. In response, she unclipped one of the sharpers at her hip and raised it up high above her head, grinning beneath her helmet. She placed it back, then continued to head on over the squad. Moments later, the cry of "Sharper!" was sent out, to which she flinched. However, common sense forced her to believe that there were no sharpers in the field, as there was no explosion, and the fact that the only sapper around was her.
Speaking of explosives, the familiar sight of her cart came into view. She waved at the driver, a young man who worked for the innkeeper, if she remembered correctly, and motioned for him to wait. Oh, she couldn't wait to tell everyone this fight meant nothing, since she was going to be bringing her bombs onto whatever ship they were going on regardless. Probably would get the shit kicked out of her by Fyn, but it would be worth it just to see the looks on their faces. Rather than actually re-enter the fight, Ana stepped up beside her cart, and crossed her arms as she watched her squadmates beat the snot out of what was left of the heavies. She removed her helmet, allowing herself to breath air that wasn't hot and stuffy, and set it up on the cart near the innkeeper's feet.
"Almost brings a tear to the eye, don't it?" she said to the nearest recruit, referring to the fight. "None of them know each other, but they fight like they've been fighting by each others sides for years." The recruit agreed, then went back to watching. Ana gave the driver of her cart the last bit of his pay, then began rustling around in the back. Everything seemed to be in order. All of the sharpers, burners, and crackers were exactly where she'd left them, and their were even the same number as when she'd last checked. Even the cusser, hidden beneath all of its padding, was still in perfect condition.
Placing the canvas back over her precious cargo, she stood up beside the cart, a strange smile on her face, and watched as her comrades finished off the rest of the heavies. She'd beat her opponent, now her job was to make sure no one got frisky with her cart.
Speaking of explosives, the familiar sight of her cart came into view. She waved at the driver, a young man who worked for the innkeeper, if she remembered correctly, and motioned for him to wait. Oh, she couldn't wait to tell everyone this fight meant nothing, since she was going to be bringing her bombs onto whatever ship they were going on regardless. Probably would get the shit kicked out of her by Fyn, but it would be worth it just to see the looks on their faces. Rather than actually re-enter the fight, Ana stepped up beside her cart, and crossed her arms as she watched her squadmates beat the snot out of what was left of the heavies. She removed her helmet, allowing herself to breath air that wasn't hot and stuffy, and set it up on the cart near the innkeeper's feet.
"Almost brings a tear to the eye, don't it?" she said to the nearest recruit, referring to the fight. "None of them know each other, but they fight like they've been fighting by each others sides for years." The recruit agreed, then went back to watching. Ana gave the driver of her cart the last bit of his pay, then began rustling around in the back. Everything seemed to be in order. All of the sharpers, burners, and crackers were exactly where she'd left them, and their were even the same number as when she'd last checked. Even the cusser, hidden beneath all of its padding, was still in perfect condition.
Placing the canvas back over her precious cargo, she stood up beside the cart, a strange smile on her face, and watched as her comrades finished off the rest of the heavies. She'd beat her opponent, now her job was to make sure no one got frisky with her cart.
Will get around to a post this afternoon, school will keep me busy until 7th period.
I believe the only ones to have not posted at this point are Chibi and Seuss.
I believe that the only ones to have not posted at this point is Chibi and Seuss. That right?
@HeySeuss
Bridgeburner said
HeySeuss - for magic, since the power is coming out of the warrens, a simple hand wave or gesture might help a Mage open up the invisible portal to the other realm.
If you want chants or what not for your character go ahead with it though! Whatever suits him best, let's just say that mages in Mirhandia have many different techniques of channeling the warrens.
Bridgeburner said Just saying, you're the gleaming archetype of what I wanted in our sapper. I expected that reaction from seeing the ship!
I figured everyone would've wanted one of those jittery insane guys who plays with explosives. Glad to see that someone appreciates the slightly levelheaded bombadier.
That post is longer than I feel it should be.
Ana paid just enough attention to the others to hear names. But even so, it was difficult to remember them all of them. Mostly, she paid attention to Sergeant Hunter. At least, somewhat. Her attention was focused more on her pipe, and the smoke pooling up on the ceiling. Her eyes slid over to stare at Viktor, who'd been brave enough to grab the mug she'd pushed away. Poor soul would probably get sick from the stale piss he was drinking up. Eh, at least he looked to be enjoying it, which couldn't be said for some, who looked to have a sour expression on their faces.
When it was called for them to head off to the port, Ana made a small excuse to the sergeant, and ran off in another direction. The sapper arrived at a small inn, which she had paid generously to keep her cart safe and out of the way. She gave the innkeeper the order to have someone drive it up to the port where the mercenaries were gathering, and to make sure that it was delivered directly to her, and to no one else, no matter what they said. Otherwise, she'd have his balls on a platter. With that wonderful image in his mind, she hurried back off to the port. After grabbing a burner and another sharper from her cart and clipping them to her belt.
Back at the docks, she arrived just in time to see the large supply of munitions heading towards the Raggaton. Beneath her helmet, she was nearly drooling at the prospect of getting to handle even any of those bombs. Her hand brushed over the three at her hip, making sure that they were still there. She gripped them hoardishly, then released them and continued heading on to where her squad should have been. She arrived just in time to hear her sergeant yell that he wouldn't let his squad be put on the same ship as the explosives. A wave of disappointment hit Ana, then a smirk came over her face. He'd be in for a rude awakening when he realized she had her own cart of bombs to put on whatever ship they were to be placed on, so it didn't matter whether or not they went with those or not.
The order to fight came, and while the others stripped themselves of their weapons, Ana did no such thing. She trusted none of these people, especially the recruiter, to leave her bombs alone. Hell, she hardly trusted anyone to not grab her squadmates' weapons while they were fighting. They'd just better hope no one jarred her around too much. Else the dock would be on fire and most of the people there would be full of shrapnel. A grin came over her face, and she positioned a sort of grappling stance as the heavies came at them. One was apparently either brave or stupid, because he came rushing right for Ana. Rather than take that head on, she opted to side-step that. Unfortunately for her, he was smarter than he looked, and as she dodged out of the way, he managed to turn himself far enough and hold his arm out so that he was able to clothesline her.
Ana fell like a sack of rocks, landing on her back. Having been in this position before, she anticipated a boot being slammed into her chest, so she rolled over. Moments later, where she'd been, his foot slammed into the ground. Using her position on the ground, she lunged forward, tackling the man at the waist. They both went down, but this time with Ana on top, where she preferred to be. Kneel on top of him, she began to wail on him, fists swinging as fast as Ana could rear her arms back. As she brought her arms up high, fists balled together, intent on breaking the man, his arm swung around and landed her in the side, where there were fewer plates and more leather. The breath knocked out of her, Ana rolled off of him, coughing.
The heavy worked his way up to his feet, as did Ana, and then the two went back to beating each other, Ana moreso on the defensive now. She was pushed back to the end of the dock, where it fell off into the water. She couldn't fall in - it would ruin the bombs! As the man threw a punch that would probably have smashed her face in, she reacted faster than most would believer her capable of, the love of her explosives giving her a small boost. The punch flew wide of her, and she grabbed the arm, throwing him some extra momentum so he fell over the edge. The thought then occurred to her, while he was splashing around, that he might just sink with all of that heavy armor on him.
She flopped down to the ground, flat on her stomach, and reached a hand out. They gripped each other, and with a lot of effort on both of their parts, they managed to bring him out of the water and splayed on the dock. Rather than give him a moment of respite, she punched him square in the face and knocked him unconscious. She stood, leaning over, hands on her knees, catching her breath, before walking back into the fray where she was needed.
When it was called for them to head off to the port, Ana made a small excuse to the sergeant, and ran off in another direction. The sapper arrived at a small inn, which she had paid generously to keep her cart safe and out of the way. She gave the innkeeper the order to have someone drive it up to the port where the mercenaries were gathering, and to make sure that it was delivered directly to her, and to no one else, no matter what they said. Otherwise, she'd have his balls on a platter. With that wonderful image in his mind, she hurried back off to the port. After grabbing a burner and another sharper from her cart and clipping them to her belt.
Back at the docks, she arrived just in time to see the large supply of munitions heading towards the Raggaton. Beneath her helmet, she was nearly drooling at the prospect of getting to handle even any of those bombs. Her hand brushed over the three at her hip, making sure that they were still there. She gripped them hoardishly, then released them and continued heading on to where her squad should have been. She arrived just in time to hear her sergeant yell that he wouldn't let his squad be put on the same ship as the explosives. A wave of disappointment hit Ana, then a smirk came over her face. He'd be in for a rude awakening when he realized she had her own cart of bombs to put on whatever ship they were to be placed on, so it didn't matter whether or not they went with those or not.
The order to fight came, and while the others stripped themselves of their weapons, Ana did no such thing. She trusted none of these people, especially the recruiter, to leave her bombs alone. Hell, she hardly trusted anyone to not grab her squadmates' weapons while they were fighting. They'd just better hope no one jarred her around too much. Else the dock would be on fire and most of the people there would be full of shrapnel. A grin came over her face, and she positioned a sort of grappling stance as the heavies came at them. One was apparently either brave or stupid, because he came rushing right for Ana. Rather than take that head on, she opted to side-step that. Unfortunately for her, he was smarter than he looked, and as she dodged out of the way, he managed to turn himself far enough and hold his arm out so that he was able to clothesline her.
Ana fell like a sack of rocks, landing on her back. Having been in this position before, she anticipated a boot being slammed into her chest, so she rolled over. Moments later, where she'd been, his foot slammed into the ground. Using her position on the ground, she lunged forward, tackling the man at the waist. They both went down, but this time with Ana on top, where she preferred to be. Kneel on top of him, she began to wail on him, fists swinging as fast as Ana could rear her arms back. As she brought her arms up high, fists balled together, intent on breaking the man, his arm swung around and landed her in the side, where there were fewer plates and more leather. The breath knocked out of her, Ana rolled off of him, coughing.
The heavy worked his way up to his feet, as did Ana, and then the two went back to beating each other, Ana moreso on the defensive now. She was pushed back to the end of the dock, where it fell off into the water. She couldn't fall in - it would ruin the bombs! As the man threw a punch that would probably have smashed her face in, she reacted faster than most would believer her capable of, the love of her explosives giving her a small boost. The punch flew wide of her, and she grabbed the arm, throwing him some extra momentum so he fell over the edge. The thought then occurred to her, while he was splashing around, that he might just sink with all of that heavy armor on him.
She flopped down to the ground, flat on her stomach, and reached a hand out. They gripped each other, and with a lot of effort on both of their parts, they managed to bring him out of the water and splayed on the dock. Rather than give him a moment of respite, she punched him square in the face and knocked him unconscious. She stood, leaning over, hands on her knees, catching her breath, before walking back into the fray where she was needed.
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