Added two new sections to cover siege weapons. Siege weapons now have caps and replenishment rates.
Siege Weapons:
Siege weapons modify your army rolls thusly:
Per 10 siege weapons = -1% to enemy defence bonus | +5% enemy casualties on open battlefield.
Defending a City:
If you feel that your forces are best served by defending, then you can IC them falling back to either a city or a prepared defensive location. Doing so gives you the following bonuses:
+10% to enemy casualties and -10% to your casualties.
However, if the enemy decide to lay siege, your army will run out of food stuffs in 6 seasons and will not be able to move whilst besieged.
Furthermore, the besieged army’s replenishment will freeze, and you will be unable to build the force up or replace its losses until the siege is lifted. You can however sally forth from your defences and attempt to break the siege.
If the 6 seasons is up, then your army surrenders or is destroyed. Either way, they’re gone.
Attacking a besieging army with another army will total the defending forces, with the relief force, into one army for the dice rolls.
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The fishes aint biting like they used to.
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Gave it a shot, let me know what needs changing.
Name: Evan Kontos
Age: 27
Rank: Guerrilla fighter// FIA Cell member
Appearance: Evan is your typical picturesque freedom fighter. Olive tanned skin, black bushy beard and long curly hair wrapped with a green bandana. Like most of his fellows, when in combat he wears a motley arrangement of military attire. Usually, due to the climate, he boasts a green drab tank top, and tiger camo trousers. His piercing brown eyes are fiery, at all times, as if he is constantly irritated.
Weapons: A battered FN F2000, painted in zigzagging stripes of greens and browns. It is wrapped in places with hessian, where parts of the weapon are showing an unhealthy amount of wear and tear. However, at current, it remains operational. To a keen eyed observer, there are slightly visible tallies etched into the stock.
Sig Sauer P228, gleaming silver in places where it has become chipped through heavy use.
History: Evan Kontos was once your average late teenager. Drinking himself stupid by night, and working by day, his life was an incessant circle of toil and relief. He was known for his many sexual conquests, from as young as 14, but whilst he was a champion of Altis’ social life, he was academically flawed. If it were not for his father’s brick laying company, it’s quite possible work may never have found him.
It wasn’t that he was a lazy or incompetent worker, but he lacked enthusiasm. He never committed to his work 100%, only ever doing what needed to be done, but never going further. His father was pained by this, because as the only son of the household, Evan would be the company’s future owner. Many nights were wasted as Evan and his father battled it out over the dinner table about his options in life, his lack of achievement and disrespect for moral conduct. Yes, he was your average late teenager.
On his 20th birthday, the revolutionaries were taking to the streets. Though his family had survived the worst of the crushing economic crisis, many were not so lucky. Their pain, their hunger and sense of helplessness drove them to take up arms against the government. Evan’s family didn’t survive the worst of Altis’ civil strife.
Late at night, five years ago, a convoy of AAF troops poured into his village, Kora, and began shooting at the inhabitants. Evan’s father ushered his family into their cellar, in hopes of avoiding the chaos above, but God did not spare them from man’s inhumanity. They were happened upon by passing troops, who ushered them outside. They shot Evan’s father immediately, for suspected ‘terror activities’. Then they blasted Evan in the chest at point blank range, collapsing his lung and fragmenting his shoulder blade.
As he lay screaming in the mud, trying to draw himself away from the pain, he saw his mother and younger sister begging as they were mercilessly raped over and over. He was powerless to stop it, and eventually he passed out from loss of blood. Upon waking, he found his mother and sister dead not far away, with their hands bound and kneeling forwards – executed. These images were burned into his mind, and haunt him to this very day.
With no family, a lethal wound and no care left for worldy things, Evan was picked up by a 4x4 as it passed through the village. It contained FIA fighters, who were scouring for survivors of the raid. They took him back to their base, where he fought for his life against his injuries, with the assistance of a Red Cross physician in some darkened basement. He lived, but he was only a shell from the moment the AAF slaughtered his family.
Revenge burning deeply in his heart, Evan joined the FIA with zealous rage. Whether it was a military complex, a checkpoint or an administration building, he was there. Firing into the bodies of surrendered soldiers, chucking grenades in tightly packed mess halls and stabbing a wounded man in the face – he did it all. Before long his fellow FIA comrades came to fear him, and his unstable nature, but with a losing war on their hands they decided to let it slide. With them he remains to this day, a soulless, injured man with no purpose other than revenge; he is the very spirit of the failed revolution, and he will not stop until the AAF finally put him down.
Skills: Good at moving unseen, and unheard. Knows how to take a man from behind with a knife, and has experience with a whole range of improvised explosives.
Equipment: Binoculars, combat knife, two M-26 grenades.
Name: Evan Kontos
Age: 27
Rank: Guerrilla fighter// FIA Cell member
Appearance: Evan is your typical picturesque freedom fighter. Olive tanned skin, black bushy beard and long curly hair wrapped with a green bandana. Like most of his fellows, when in combat he wears a motley arrangement of military attire. Usually, due to the climate, he boasts a green drab tank top, and tiger camo trousers. His piercing brown eyes are fiery, at all times, as if he is constantly irritated.
Weapons: A battered FN F2000, painted in zigzagging stripes of greens and browns. It is wrapped in places with hessian, where parts of the weapon are showing an unhealthy amount of wear and tear. However, at current, it remains operational. To a keen eyed observer, there are slightly visible tallies etched into the stock.
Sig Sauer P228, gleaming silver in places where it has become chipped through heavy use.
History: Evan Kontos was once your average late teenager. Drinking himself stupid by night, and working by day, his life was an incessant circle of toil and relief. He was known for his many sexual conquests, from as young as 14, but whilst he was a champion of Altis’ social life, he was academically flawed. If it were not for his father’s brick laying company, it’s quite possible work may never have found him.
It wasn’t that he was a lazy or incompetent worker, but he lacked enthusiasm. He never committed to his work 100%, only ever doing what needed to be done, but never going further. His father was pained by this, because as the only son of the household, Evan would be the company’s future owner. Many nights were wasted as Evan and his father battled it out over the dinner table about his options in life, his lack of achievement and disrespect for moral conduct. Yes, he was your average late teenager.
On his 20th birthday, the revolutionaries were taking to the streets. Though his family had survived the worst of the crushing economic crisis, many were not so lucky. Their pain, their hunger and sense of helplessness drove them to take up arms against the government. Evan’s family didn’t survive the worst of Altis’ civil strife.
Late at night, five years ago, a convoy of AAF troops poured into his village, Kora, and began shooting at the inhabitants. Evan’s father ushered his family into their cellar, in hopes of avoiding the chaos above, but God did not spare them from man’s inhumanity. They were happened upon by passing troops, who ushered them outside. They shot Evan’s father immediately, for suspected ‘terror activities’. Then they blasted Evan in the chest at point blank range, collapsing his lung and fragmenting his shoulder blade.
As he lay screaming in the mud, trying to draw himself away from the pain, he saw his mother and younger sister begging as they were mercilessly raped over and over. He was powerless to stop it, and eventually he passed out from loss of blood. Upon waking, he found his mother and sister dead not far away, with their hands bound and kneeling forwards – executed. These images were burned into his mind, and haunt him to this very day.
With no family, a lethal wound and no care left for worldy things, Evan was picked up by a 4x4 as it passed through the village. It contained FIA fighters, who were scouring for survivors of the raid. They took him back to their base, where he fought for his life against his injuries, with the assistance of a Red Cross physician in some darkened basement. He lived, but he was only a shell from the moment the AAF slaughtered his family.
Revenge burning deeply in his heart, Evan joined the FIA with zealous rage. Whether it was a military complex, a checkpoint or an administration building, he was there. Firing into the bodies of surrendered soldiers, chucking grenades in tightly packed mess halls and stabbing a wounded man in the face – he did it all. Before long his fellow FIA comrades came to fear him, and his unstable nature, but with a losing war on their hands they decided to let it slide. With them he remains to this day, a soulless, injured man with no purpose other than revenge; he is the very spirit of the failed revolution, and he will not stop until the AAF finally put him down.
Skills: Good at moving unseen, and unheard. Knows how to take a man from behind with a knife, and has experience with a whole range of improvised explosives.
Equipment: Binoculars, combat knife, two M-26 grenades.
There we go. Sorry about that.
Buckle jumped when the church door opened, and without realising it his hand was gripping his revolver as it sat snugly in its holster.
"Sheeeeeeeeeat, lady," he said, choking on a bad intake. He eyed the wine bottle. "Hell, you can have ten of these if you'd throw some of that my way."
Looking her up and down, Buckle couldn't help but feel more drawn into the surrealism of the situation. The woman was dressed like a man, with a hat to match. A slender figure though, and the clothes had been tailored to follow her feminine curves. Raising an eye at the shotgun, he tried to gage the woman's age. Young, sure enough, but there was some of that frontier-haggardness about her.
Rolling her a cigarette, Buckle nodded at her. "How old are you Miss? Not often I see womenfolk walkin' round with guns that big. Though sayin' that, I guess vampires 'n zombies means girls gotta play soldiers too, right?"
"Sheeeeeeeeeat, lady," he said, choking on a bad intake. He eyed the wine bottle. "Hell, you can have ten of these if you'd throw some of that my way."
Looking her up and down, Buckle couldn't help but feel more drawn into the surrealism of the situation. The woman was dressed like a man, with a hat to match. A slender figure though, and the clothes had been tailored to follow her feminine curves. Raising an eye at the shotgun, he tried to gage the woman's age. Young, sure enough, but there was some of that frontier-haggardness about her.
Rolling her a cigarette, Buckle nodded at her. "How old are you Miss? Not often I see womenfolk walkin' round with guns that big. Though sayin' that, I guess vampires 'n zombies means girls gotta play soldiers too, right?"
My bad. Your post missed me somehow; I thought I was still waiting for the others.
I think I'll wait for you, Newsun and Caliban to finish your nation sheets before I open the OOC to give me a head start.
I've got an odd feeling it might draw more attention in the actual RP thread. I don't much fancy the thought of coming home from work on Monday to six new races needing tech trees and modifiers alongside yours haha.
If I can have them by tomorrow, then the OOC will go up and we'll be on the road to getting started.
Speaking of which, should we limit the RP to 6 players? I think that number is about right, but I'm not sure. It's always difficult deciding how many players should be let in.
Oh and also, I would like to thank you for all for helping me craft this, and for showing interest and being patient. Special thanks to Caliban, because if he hadn't of showed interest, I was going to bin this whole idea. (It'd been sitting here for a few days with no comments)
I've got an odd feeling it might draw more attention in the actual RP thread. I don't much fancy the thought of coming home from work on Monday to six new races needing tech trees and modifiers alongside yours haha.
If I can have them by tomorrow, then the OOC will go up and we'll be on the road to getting started.
Speaking of which, should we limit the RP to 6 players? I think that number is about right, but I'm not sure. It's always difficult deciding how many players should be let in.
Oh and also, I would like to thank you for all for helping me craft this, and for showing interest and being patient. Special thanks to Caliban, because if he hadn't of showed interest, I was going to bin this whole idea. (It'd been sitting here for a few days with no comments)
Raptorman said
I do plan for them to be able to craft it yes.
Alright. Make it clear on your sheet what exactly it is that's magical about it, so that I can translate that into something math wise.
Raptorman said
I need to get your thoughts on it since a great deal effects world history
Read it. Loved it. I will re-read it again to see what historic bonuses I can convey on your race. I assume you plan for them to be able to craft that metal on Earth?
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