SyrianHamster Member
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- SyrianHamster 12 yrs ago
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11 yrs ago
The fishes aint biting like they used to.
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Most Recent Posts
Are we waiting for Alehkra? Or do we soldier on?
Sorry for my delayed post. Usual excuse: been busy as hell. Hopefully there wont be a lull like that for the foreseeable future, thanks for waiting for me.
Tetsuo was the last to arrive at the castle gates, a slight he hoped Lord Ito would not take as an insult. Loyalty and devotion to one's master was the key building block to any man, but sometimes there had to be exceptions. Untended personal business is loud professional business, Tetsuo's father had once said. This last thought made the old man halt abruptly; how old had his father been when he succumbed to a sudden chest pain? Forty? It was a bitter memory, and Tetsuo could not recall the man's face.
Noticing that his soon-to-be companions were staring at him beneath the open gate, Tetsuo immediately regained his stone-faced posture and marched onwards. As he came into speaking range, the aged warrior started to pull at the arms of his kimono. His companions looked on curiously. Four subtle and quick tugs reduced the sleeves to mere rags, revealing his scar-covered arms.
"Aki, Hensai!" He barked.
Two armoured samurai standing beside the gates ran forwards. One held a spear, the other a sheathed tanto and wakazashi. Neither of these weapons looked of any notable quality, but they served Tetsuo well most of his life - save for the spear which required regular replacement. As they approached, Tetsuo snatched the tanto from its sheath, grabbed the knot of his iron-grey hair and started hacking away. Some of the townspeople stopped in their daily toils to glare at the sight. When he was done, he sheathed the tanto, and went on to secure the two swords to his belt. Finally he grabbed the yari, and held it aloft in one hand to judge its weight. A few seconds passed before he smiled, and dismissed the two samurai who had borne him his weapons.
Looking less like a noble warrior, and more like a crazy beggar, the newly disheveled Miyasato Tetsuo smiled and bowed his head to his companions. He disapproved of the woman who had the audacity to name herself a warrior, but these were strange times. He would tolerate her presence because Lord Ito had selected her for the task, and besides, the Princess would require a female tender. However, should battle be joined, he would ensure this foolish woman was as far away from the action as he could place her. The last thing any of the group would need was a weak link in a defensive chain.
"My name is Miyasato Tetsuo. I am honoured to be considered worthy of fighting besides all of you - should the need arise, of course," he lied.
Things were not so bad though. This Toshiro character was from the south, and looked to be an able fighter - but time would tell. Matotsuru was young, and Tetsuo found him to be reckless on the Testing Grounds, but he had plenty of vigor. Should things come to drawn swords, Tetsuo was half-confident they could defy a group of bandits three times their number.
Noticing that his soon-to-be companions were staring at him beneath the open gate, Tetsuo immediately regained his stone-faced posture and marched onwards. As he came into speaking range, the aged warrior started to pull at the arms of his kimono. His companions looked on curiously. Four subtle and quick tugs reduced the sleeves to mere rags, revealing his scar-covered arms.
"Aki, Hensai!" He barked.
Two armoured samurai standing beside the gates ran forwards. One held a spear, the other a sheathed tanto and wakazashi. Neither of these weapons looked of any notable quality, but they served Tetsuo well most of his life - save for the spear which required regular replacement. As they approached, Tetsuo snatched the tanto from its sheath, grabbed the knot of his iron-grey hair and started hacking away. Some of the townspeople stopped in their daily toils to glare at the sight. When he was done, he sheathed the tanto, and went on to secure the two swords to his belt. Finally he grabbed the yari, and held it aloft in one hand to judge its weight. A few seconds passed before he smiled, and dismissed the two samurai who had borne him his weapons.
Looking less like a noble warrior, and more like a crazy beggar, the newly disheveled Miyasato Tetsuo smiled and bowed his head to his companions. He disapproved of the woman who had the audacity to name herself a warrior, but these were strange times. He would tolerate her presence because Lord Ito had selected her for the task, and besides, the Princess would require a female tender. However, should battle be joined, he would ensure this foolish woman was as far away from the action as he could place her. The last thing any of the group would need was a weak link in a defensive chain.
"My name is Miyasato Tetsuo. I am honoured to be considered worthy of fighting besides all of you - should the need arise, of course," he lied.
Things were not so bad though. This Toshiro character was from the south, and looked to be an able fighter - but time would tell. Matotsuru was young, and Tetsuo found him to be reckless on the Testing Grounds, but he had plenty of vigor. Should things come to drawn swords, Tetsuo was half-confident they could defy a group of bandits three times their number.
Okay, I've adjusted the plot (grammar and consistencies mostly), drawn up a list of items, inserted a new affiliation (Gamma Mechanised Infantry), posted three different vehicle selections for said new affiliation to start with, but also for other people to find as the RP progresses. The first post of this interest check will now be the RP summary, and I will update it as often as I can until it is complete.
The hard parts are all done now though, it's just a matter of me sitting down and going toe to toe with my keyboard. Hopefully tomorrow will see the final draft.
Special thanks to Tearstone for creating the weapons.
The hard parts are all done now though, it's just a matter of me sitting down and going toe to toe with my keyboard. Hopefully tomorrow will see the final draft.
Special thanks to Tearstone for creating the weapons.
That is correct. Squad call signs will come in handy later, because I will issue them frequencies. All Marines and Isis 7 Security Forces will have access to the battle net, which provides them with the ability to communicate with fellow units in the locale.
Alright, so here's the plot I ended up making it massive, so I may have to go back and trim it down to fit everything else in. I haven't proof read it yet either, so go easy on the critique of shit punctuation and repeating words :)This should at least let you guys know how serious I am about all of this:
F737 – Extraction
Containment Failure
“...breaking through containment... blown the Astura bridge... enemy is unidentified, say again... requesting immediate interplanetary assistance” - Final communication from City 29, Isis 7. 04/03/2421
The year is 2421, and humanity has unknowingly triggered his extinction...
Reports were initially sketchy. An unidentified illness broke out amongst the population of the vast industrial metropolis of City 29, situated upon the barren surface of Factory World Isis 7. Chief medical officials were baffled by the illness, and immediately requested the presence of their off-world superiors as the victims started to mount.
Within 24 hours of the first recognised diagnosis, 10% of the population was suspected of being infected. Initial attempts to identify the illness were hindered by a misunderstanding of what medical staff were dealing with. What appeared to be a neuro-virus was soon established to be something else altogether: a parasitic fungal organism. Batteries of antifungal medication were applied to the victims, but astonishingly these only served to accelerate the rate of the fungal spread.
Symptoms were typical of a fever: joint pain, headache, sore throat a cough and general lethergy. Over the course of a day, the victim would quickly deteriorate into a semi-comatose bedridden state. Blisters would form on the undersides of their arms, and around the backs of their necks. It was quickly noticed that these blisters did not harbour pus or blood, but some form of fine dust that appeared to be produced by the body itself.
27 hours after the first recognised diagnosis, the first victim died as a direct result of the fungal infection. It had spread to her brain directly from her lungs, and had closed down her vital organs despite medical science's best efforts to keep them operating. The resulting autopsy confirmed the planetary Government's worst fears: the fungal infection was airborne.
After a brief conference of the Interstellar Government's top medical bodies, the parasitic fungus was named the Hangor Fungii, designated F737.
Three days after the first fatality, over 40% of City 29's population had succumbed to infection. Hospitals had crumbled under the huge pressure of caring for 20 million people that they could not cure, police stations were transformed into makeshift bases for the local military and a the fire brigade were deployed to combat the emergence of F737 fungal spore clusters that had started to encrust themselves underneath the city's gigantic sewer system.
Law and order quickly fell to ruin, as panic drove the population wild. Rioters and looters took to the street. The local military responded with live rounds, and drove these dissenters back to their homes. As human fought human over house, pathway and street, F737 mutated unnoticed in the chaos.
The massive white tents set up outside the hospitals as impromptu morgues became the official ground zero: the dead began to stir. Their bodies, rigid from rigor mortis, crinkled like plastic as they gained their feet. The few witnesses there were within these tents of death were quickly set upon by clawed hands and jagged teeth.
The military and their law enforcement companions realised too late what was happening. The infected evolved quickly; at first they were just men and women, running in a crazed blood-lust towards the nearest non-infected human with an expression of glee hard set into their pale grey, blister ridden faces. A burst from an assault rifle would send these freaks back to their slumber. But not all of them stayed in this vulnerable state for long.
Monsters, sprouting several heads and limbs and standing over ten feet tall, appeared from the midst of the chaos. They screamed like banshees, and charged their adversaries with a suicidal rage. It took several bullets to bring these creatures down, and when they did finally fall, their flesh would burst open to release a thick cloud of F737 spores. Those soldiers who had lost or damaged their gas masks would quickly succumb to this new breed of the fungus, and turn on their comrades within minutes.
In a bid to prevent the spread of the infection, Isis 7's planetary Government hastily mobilised its remaining military and enacted a quarantine of City 29. This move came far too late in the game however, as the clouds of spores emanating from clusters and the bodies of the infected had started to leave the city and sweep across the entire region. Populations deemed at risk of the spores' path were ordered to evacuate, but Isis 7's infrastructure was not designed for such a contingency and many were left to their fate as the roads jammed and the airways restricted.
Realising they had blundered, the First Ministers of Isis 7 admitted to their Interstellar superiors that the situation was out of control. Having dealt with the crisis that was F737 first hand, they were in a position of strength: if they had have acted with conviction and courage, then perhaps the consequential disaster could have been avoided. Instead, terrified that they themselves would become victims of the unchecked and constantly evolving micro-enemy, they chose to be vague with the Interstellar Government.
Swathes of medical data were withdraw from the Interstellar Network, and figures relating to the infection rate of F737 were sliced to make the situation appear under control. When queried about the sudden removal of information, the sudden changes of statistics regarding the crisis and an apparent media blackout on the surface, the First Ministers played a rogue card: Isis 7 was under terrorist attack. The Interstellar Government promptly scrambled for a response.
Battlegroup Gamma of Earth's Home Fleet was two days away by hyperdrive, and was the nearest military force capable of launching combined arms operations on a planet's surface. Equipped with four H Class battlecruisers, seven general purpose transport ships and an Enfield Class carrier, Battlegroup Gamma had enough combined fire power to glass a planet's surface – an unintended and vital oversight.
By the time Battlegroup Gamma arrived in Isis 7's orbit, the situation on the ground was dire. City 29 had gone dark; cities 17, 21 and 34 were reporting similar fungal outbreaks to those experienced by City 29. Admiral Morgan Hallow was both disturbed and confused by initial satellite imaging of City 29's streets. There were fires, but no one was tackling them, and there were crowds in the streets, marching with impunity towards what appeared to be military roadblocks. A visual enhancement revealed that something was not quite right with this picture; these were no ordinary riots, and the fires were not the result of a terrorist attack. It was as if two entire armies had warred with each from one end of the city to the other, leaving crowds of jubilant spectators in their wake.
Yet, the ageing Admiral knew these to be strange times and did not read the situation for what it was. Several terrorist groups had garnered sympathy across the colonised solar systems of man's fledging empire. Some fought for revenge, some out of warped moral righteousness, others for religious gratification. He deemed it perfectly possible that the population of City 29 had risen in support of whatever was taking place on the surface.
After relaying his findings to the Interstellar Government's High Council, he received orders to retake City 29 from the hostile population, regardless of the cost. This was to be the first time in twenty two years that a military force operating under the Interstellar Government had been authorised to use lethal force against civilians.
On the 4th of March, 2421, a small armada of drop ships, varying in shapes and sizes, descended upon City 29's limits from all directions. Their hulls contained 10,231 battle hardened and combat ready marines with orders to force the city's population to return to their homes under the pain of death. An order that was gawked upon by soldiers who more often that not, protected civilians from the exact actions they were themselves about to commit.
The drop ships landed at their assigned targets: parks, the roofs of residential complexes, car parks, large shopping centres and other places where the civilian population was likely to be thickest. They also made for the major law enforcement stations and local military barracks in an attempt to reinforce them – or in the worst case scenario, retake these structures from the insurrectionists.
Immediately, the vanguard of this attack force encountered the green fog seen from space. Thanks to First Ministers' attempts to conceal the severity of F737, Battlegroup Gamma's leadership was ill informed of the danger this fog presented.
Dozens succumbed as they were enveloped by the spores. They clawed at their faces, screaming and laughing in a fit of madness whilst their comrades looked on in horror and confusion. Gun fire erupted as chaos ensued, and force cohesion almost broke there and then had it not been for the marines' discipline.
Orders and advisories were quickly and efficiently sent out of the intertwined Battle Net to alert the marines of the apparent dangers that the fog posed. Gasmasks, mandatory equipment for any marine heading into war, were equipped and the airborne spores ceased to be a problem; it was just one minor but terrible and bizarre footnote in what was about to be another glorious combat operation from the marines of Battlegroup Gamma.
As these heroic soldiers pressed their way into the city, they stumbled upon the civilian population they were to subdue. The people of City 29 were no longer people, they were monsters; corrupted flesh, blister ridden and deformed. Some had a giant tentacle for a head, whilst others had six muscular arms jointed in six places. There were some that were as tall as a small house, that snarled and drawled a green goo. Others were bent over backwards, and their black lifeless eyes stared at the marines from between their blistered shins.
Stunned, confused and terrified into inaction, the first combat parties were torn to shreds in seconds by their horrifying attackers. Gunfire filled the air of City 29, as mankind's best fought against the twisted machinations of an unknown power.
Admiral Morgan, not quite believing what he was seeing, committed to the ground operations by authorising the deployment of tank regiments and mechanised infantry. These elements performed better than their marine kinsmen, who were being hamburgered across the city, but soon became bogged down in the tight streets of the vast yet condensed metropolis.
Orbital to surface fighter and bomber craft were also deployed in their hundreds from the Enfield Carrier, and several areas of City 29 were flattened in an effort to restore some kind of martial superiority over this new and mysterious adversary, but all was ultimately useless. There was just too many of them. As the day drew to a close, Admiral Morgan uploaded a live satilite video feed of the ground operations to the High Council, and advised them to glass the city.
“City 29 has been lost, but we could still make a difference elsewhere!” He argued, and his argument was accepted.
Cut off, besieged, trapped and cornered by the infected, the dwindling ground forces of Battlegroup Gamma were given a sudden and startling order: evacuate to the designated extraction zones beyond the city limits, or be destroyed alongside humanity's greatest threat.
You are one of those poor bastards.
Player Sheet (For those who wish to play as an individual soldier)
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Fireteam/Group Sheet (For those who wish to play as more than one character)
Squad Call Sign: (Anything you want, whether it's Alpha coco pops to Fried Chicken Charlie Fries)
Squad Leader/Group Leader
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Solider 1/Member 1
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Soldier 2/Member 2
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Soldier 3/Member 3 (Maximum)
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Affiliations
City 29 Citizen – A survivor and potential hostile of the marines who are no longer looking twice before shooting. They have stomached the peak of the infection, and have succeded in living where many others, including friends and family, have failed. Likely to be lightly armour, and preferring silence and caution to avoid the infected, they must either befriend the marines to escape the doomed city, or force their way through against all odds to escape the blast radius of the incoming orbital bombardment.
Isis 7 Security Forces – Clinging desperately to one of the few remaining military outposts in the city, your hopes are bolstered by the arrival of the marines – and quickly dashed when you realise the marines aren't going to be enough to save you. You may be paired up with these failed saviours, or you may have fallen victim to their panicked pre-conclusions about whether or not you're an infected. They'll be less likely to shoot a man in uniform, but 'less likely' doesn't mean much at present. You'll be as well equipped as the marines, but suffer from poorer training and have a lower level of military discipline.
Gamma Orbital Marine – The best of the best; these men and women have fought their way into Hell and back on several occasions, except this time they really are in Hell. Aware from the start that this deployment was one big pile of bullshit, they are now more angry at their situation than they are horrified by it. Under-equipped, ill prepared, outnumbered, outmanoeuvred and hours from being vaporised by some old bastard in a nice white suit who's never fired a gun in his life. Reaching the city limits is almost an impossibility, but so is the stubbornness, the training, the life style and the attitude of humanity's finest.
Weapon List:
[To be completed]
List of Items
[To be completed]
List of Light Vehicles
[Also to be completed]
List of Heavy Vehicles
[Also to be completed]
The Infected
[Again, not ready yet]
City 29 Layout
[Yup]
Containment Failure
The year is 2421, and humanity has unknowingly triggered his extinction...
Reports were initially sketchy. An unidentified illness broke out amongst the population of the vast industrial metropolis of City 29, situated upon the barren surface of Factory World Isis 7. Chief medical officials were baffled by the illness, and immediately requested the presence of their off-world superiors as the victims started to mount.
Within 24 hours of the first recognised diagnosis, 10% of the population was suspected of being infected. Initial attempts to identify the illness were hindered by a misunderstanding of what medical staff were dealing with. What appeared to be a neuro-virus was soon established to be something else altogether: a parasitic fungal organism. Batteries of antifungal medication were applied to the victims, but astonishingly these only served to accelerate the rate of the fungal spread.
Symptoms were typical of a fever: joint pain, headache, sore throat a cough and general lethergy. Over the course of a day, the victim would quickly deteriorate into a semi-comatose bedridden state. Blisters would form on the undersides of their arms, and around the backs of their necks. It was quickly noticed that these blisters did not harbour pus or blood, but some form of fine dust that appeared to be produced by the body itself.
27 hours after the first recognised diagnosis, the first victim died as a direct result of the fungal infection. It had spread to her brain directly from her lungs, and had closed down her vital organs despite medical science's best efforts to keep them operating. The resulting autopsy confirmed the planetary Government's worst fears: the fungal infection was airborne.
After a brief conference of the Interstellar Government's top medical bodies, the parasitic fungus was named the Hangor Fungii, designated F737.
Three days after the first fatality, over 40% of City 29's population had succumbed to infection. Hospitals had crumbled under the huge pressure of caring for 20 million people that they could not cure, police stations were transformed into makeshift bases for the local military and a the fire brigade were deployed to combat the emergence of F737 fungal spore clusters that had started to encrust themselves underneath the city's gigantic sewer system.
Law and order quickly fell to ruin, as panic drove the population wild. Rioters and looters took to the street. The local military responded with live rounds, and drove these dissenters back to their homes. As human fought human over house, pathway and street, F737 mutated unnoticed in the chaos.
The massive white tents set up outside the hospitals as impromptu morgues became the official ground zero: the dead began to stir. Their bodies, rigid from rigor mortis, crinkled like plastic as they gained their feet. The few witnesses there were within these tents of death were quickly set upon by clawed hands and jagged teeth.
The military and their law enforcement companions realised too late what was happening. The infected evolved quickly; at first they were just men and women, running in a crazed blood-lust towards the nearest non-infected human with an expression of glee hard set into their pale grey, blister ridden faces. A burst from an assault rifle would send these freaks back to their slumber. But not all of them stayed in this vulnerable state for long.
Monsters, sprouting several heads and limbs and standing over ten feet tall, appeared from the midst of the chaos. They screamed like banshees, and charged their adversaries with a suicidal rage. It took several bullets to bring these creatures down, and when they did finally fall, their flesh would burst open to release a thick cloud of F737 spores. Those soldiers who had lost or damaged their gas masks would quickly succumb to this new breed of the fungus, and turn on their comrades within minutes.
In a bid to prevent the spread of the infection, Isis 7's planetary Government hastily mobilised its remaining military and enacted a quarantine of City 29. This move came far too late in the game however, as the clouds of spores emanating from clusters and the bodies of the infected had started to leave the city and sweep across the entire region. Populations deemed at risk of the spores' path were ordered to evacuate, but Isis 7's infrastructure was not designed for such a contingency and many were left to their fate as the roads jammed and the airways restricted.
Realising they had blundered, the First Ministers of Isis 7 admitted to their Interstellar superiors that the situation was out of control. Having dealt with the crisis that was F737 first hand, they were in a position of strength: if they had have acted with conviction and courage, then perhaps the consequential disaster could have been avoided. Instead, terrified that they themselves would become victims of the unchecked and constantly evolving micro-enemy, they chose to be vague with the Interstellar Government.
Swathes of medical data were withdraw from the Interstellar Network, and figures relating to the infection rate of F737 were sliced to make the situation appear under control. When queried about the sudden removal of information, the sudden changes of statistics regarding the crisis and an apparent media blackout on the surface, the First Ministers played a rogue card: Isis 7 was under terrorist attack. The Interstellar Government promptly scrambled for a response.
Battlegroup Gamma of Earth's Home Fleet was two days away by hyperdrive, and was the nearest military force capable of launching combined arms operations on a planet's surface. Equipped with four H Class battlecruisers, seven general purpose transport ships and an Enfield Class carrier, Battlegroup Gamma had enough combined fire power to glass a planet's surface – an unintended and vital oversight.
By the time Battlegroup Gamma arrived in Isis 7's orbit, the situation on the ground was dire. City 29 had gone dark; cities 17, 21 and 34 were reporting similar fungal outbreaks to those experienced by City 29. Admiral Morgan Hallow was both disturbed and confused by initial satellite imaging of City 29's streets. There were fires, but no one was tackling them, and there were crowds in the streets, marching with impunity towards what appeared to be military roadblocks. A visual enhancement revealed that something was not quite right with this picture; these were no ordinary riots, and the fires were not the result of a terrorist attack. It was as if two entire armies had warred with each from one end of the city to the other, leaving crowds of jubilant spectators in their wake.
Yet, the ageing Admiral knew these to be strange times and did not read the situation for what it was. Several terrorist groups had garnered sympathy across the colonised solar systems of man's fledging empire. Some fought for revenge, some out of warped moral righteousness, others for religious gratification. He deemed it perfectly possible that the population of City 29 had risen in support of whatever was taking place on the surface.
After relaying his findings to the Interstellar Government's High Council, he received orders to retake City 29 from the hostile population, regardless of the cost. This was to be the first time in twenty two years that a military force operating under the Interstellar Government had been authorised to use lethal force against civilians.
On the 4th of March, 2421, a small armada of drop ships, varying in shapes and sizes, descended upon City 29's limits from all directions. Their hulls contained 10,231 battle hardened and combat ready marines with orders to force the city's population to return to their homes under the pain of death. An order that was gawked upon by soldiers who more often that not, protected civilians from the exact actions they were themselves about to commit.
The drop ships landed at their assigned targets: parks, the roofs of residential complexes, car parks, large shopping centres and other places where the civilian population was likely to be thickest. They also made for the major law enforcement stations and local military barracks in an attempt to reinforce them – or in the worst case scenario, retake these structures from the insurrectionists.
Immediately, the vanguard of this attack force encountered the green fog seen from space. Thanks to First Ministers' attempts to conceal the severity of F737, Battlegroup Gamma's leadership was ill informed of the danger this fog presented.
Dozens succumbed as they were enveloped by the spores. They clawed at their faces, screaming and laughing in a fit of madness whilst their comrades looked on in horror and confusion. Gun fire erupted as chaos ensued, and force cohesion almost broke there and then had it not been for the marines' discipline.
Orders and advisories were quickly and efficiently sent out of the intertwined Battle Net to alert the marines of the apparent dangers that the fog posed. Gasmasks, mandatory equipment for any marine heading into war, were equipped and the airborne spores ceased to be a problem; it was just one minor but terrible and bizarre footnote in what was about to be another glorious combat operation from the marines of Battlegroup Gamma.
As these heroic soldiers pressed their way into the city, they stumbled upon the civilian population they were to subdue. The people of City 29 were no longer people, they were monsters; corrupted flesh, blister ridden and deformed. Some had a giant tentacle for a head, whilst others had six muscular arms jointed in six places. There were some that were as tall as a small house, that snarled and drawled a green goo. Others were bent over backwards, and their black lifeless eyes stared at the marines from between their blistered shins.
Stunned, confused and terrified into inaction, the first combat parties were torn to shreds in seconds by their horrifying attackers. Gunfire filled the air of City 29, as mankind's best fought against the twisted machinations of an unknown power.
Admiral Morgan, not quite believing what he was seeing, committed to the ground operations by authorising the deployment of tank regiments and mechanised infantry. These elements performed better than their marine kinsmen, who were being hamburgered across the city, but soon became bogged down in the tight streets of the vast yet condensed metropolis.
Orbital to surface fighter and bomber craft were also deployed in their hundreds from the Enfield Carrier, and several areas of City 29 were flattened in an effort to restore some kind of martial superiority over this new and mysterious adversary, but all was ultimately useless. There was just too many of them. As the day drew to a close, Admiral Morgan uploaded a live satilite video feed of the ground operations to the High Council, and advised them to glass the city.
“City 29 has been lost, but we could still make a difference elsewhere!” He argued, and his argument was accepted.
Cut off, besieged, trapped and cornered by the infected, the dwindling ground forces of Battlegroup Gamma were given a sudden and startling order: evacuate to the designated extraction zones beyond the city limits, or be destroyed alongside humanity's greatest threat.
You are one of those poor bastards.
Player Sheet (For those who wish to play as an individual soldier)
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Fireteam/Group Sheet (For those who wish to play as more than one character)
Squad Call Sign: (Anything you want, whether it's Alpha coco pops to Fried Chicken Charlie Fries)
Squad Leader/Group Leader
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Solider 1/Member 1
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Soldier 2/Member 2
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Soldier 3/Member 3 (Maximum)
Name:
Affiliation:
Weapon:
Item Slot 1:
Item Slot 2:
Affiliations
City 29 Citizen – A survivor and potential hostile of the marines who are no longer looking twice before shooting. They have stomached the peak of the infection, and have succeded in living where many others, including friends and family, have failed. Likely to be lightly armour, and preferring silence and caution to avoid the infected, they must either befriend the marines to escape the doomed city, or force their way through against all odds to escape the blast radius of the incoming orbital bombardment.
Isis 7 Security Forces – Clinging desperately to one of the few remaining military outposts in the city, your hopes are bolstered by the arrival of the marines – and quickly dashed when you realise the marines aren't going to be enough to save you. You may be paired up with these failed saviours, or you may have fallen victim to their panicked pre-conclusions about whether or not you're an infected. They'll be less likely to shoot a man in uniform, but 'less likely' doesn't mean much at present. You'll be as well equipped as the marines, but suffer from poorer training and have a lower level of military discipline.
Gamma Orbital Marine – The best of the best; these men and women have fought their way into Hell and back on several occasions, except this time they really are in Hell. Aware from the start that this deployment was one big pile of bullshit, they are now more angry at their situation than they are horrified by it. Under-equipped, ill prepared, outnumbered, outmanoeuvred and hours from being vaporised by some old bastard in a nice white suit who's never fired a gun in his life. Reaching the city limits is almost an impossibility, but so is the stubbornness, the training, the life style and the attitude of humanity's finest.
Weapon List:
[To be completed]
List of Items
[To be completed]
List of Light Vehicles
[Also to be completed]
List of Heavy Vehicles
[Also to be completed]
The Infected
[Again, not ready yet]
City 29 Layout
[Yup]
Hahaha. Righty'o, well thanks for the feedback. Gonna disappear down a hole for the next few hours to flesh this whole thing out, and hopefully we'll have something half decent at the end of it.
Tearstone said
Well, if the numbers don't get too high, I would be up for running a squad/fireteam rather than just an individual character. Also, I might bug a couple of people I know who like military type action.
When I first had this idea, was thinking of making every player take control of a three man fireteam, but experience has taught me not to pigeon hole players with restrictions on who or what they can play as. When I create the final RP Summary, I'll expand upon the player creation to include fire teams for those who wish to play as more than one character. Military-type RPs tend be the best kind for that type of play.
As for the weapons, I will be totally honest, I made up the names and hashed them up in minutes. This is a futuristic RP, but where laser guns and light sabres haven't come into being. 7.62mm ammunition is the standard, and the weapons in use have evolved around that caliber round. Think modern day weapons, but with futuristic advances in terms of material composition, firing mechanisms, recoil control etc etc. The 20mm rifle, for example, does not break your guy's arm every time he pulls the trigger - there would be one hell of a kick, but it would be possible to fire all five shots in quick succession with some accuracy.
I will develop the weapons further, add some like a shotgun, SMG, grenade launcher etc. I'll try to get at least 8 in there.
I am a democratic GM, within workable reason, and your suggestions/input will be implemented as long as I don't see a problem with it.
Geoffrey Silt said
Combat Medic, Engineer, Spotter(Coupled with a marksman), Explosives Specialist, perhaps a technician/somebody with a long ranged radio in order to call main base when the mission goes wrong? I dunno, just thoughts.
There will be two item slots, which will replace the compulsory grenades stated in the very rough draft. These items will range from grenades, laser-sharpened bayonets, radios, flare guns, pistols, officer sabres, gas masks (although that might be mandatory equipment) to compact mortars and plastic explosives.
And things have already gone horribly wrong. This RP wont be about waging an offensive battle - it will be about running down streets, stopping only to blast holes in the advancing wall of corrupted flesh; it will be about grappling with death in tight side alleys, and navigating darkened buildings with a flash light. All the while, the spaceships above will be preparing to destroy everything. I guess if you had to compare it to a game, it would kind of play out as Left For Dead, but where the horde just does not let up. But even this is up for debate if you think it should be different.
Tearstone said
See, my original thought, Geoffrey was "Somebody in command screwed up. they should have sealed off the first few levels of several buildings, and put riflemen in every window, while forward observers called in incendiary/white phosphorous artillery/cannon strikes to set the infected and spores on fire... or be coordinating napalm/thermite plasma drops down the streets." -- Bad command decisions happen for one reason or another. But if the situation had already spun out of control, they probably should have just sanitized the city with neutrino waves (if they could do them) or other means and been done with it. Where is Patient Zero, and how did they become infected? - I'd love to not only play the current scenario out, but also run another related situation where a different team is trying to find out what really happened, and so on.Also, how far would the spores be carried on the wind? How long until they started another infection/infestation somewhere else? Any killed high up on high rise buildings might send their spores far... ... sorry I keep thinking of stuff. This could all turn out to be really good stuff.
Okay, I admit the story isn't as deep as it would have been if I wanted this to be an RP where everyone falls in love and sexes each other. It's an action packed, hair raising, flesh tearing roller coaster about some guys/gals who don't want to be eaten or bludgeoned to death by raving monsters.
F737's origin is not confirmed within the story. It appeared out of nowhere, and the planetary Government did not react properly. The Interstellar Government, which owns the planet, and was informed of the situation, didn't quite grasp what was happening either. The infection is fungal based, so I guess you could compare it to the Flood, or the infected from The Last of Us in the respect that it mutates people. I will give the infected their own mention in the RP summary, detailing the basic kinds, but leaving room for you guys to invent your own as you see fit. They will start off as running zombie-like guys, but will mutate quickly - within hours - into something far more sinister and dangerous. A bite, a cut, a scrape, vomit and breath will infect you. You will turn within minutes. F737 does not take long to have an effect, as it goes straight for the nervous system and works its way back from there.
This is the first time, in this story, that humanity has faced anything of the kind. The marines believed they were suppressing sick people that had lost their minds to some virus; not horribly deformed monsters with murderous intent.
If this RP has some success, further installments will build upon the story to dissolve the mystery of F737.
Spores are indeed airborne, and carry an 80% rate of infection with them. Whilst no one knows where they originally came from, as they had to be the cause of this infection, it has been confirmed that the infected's skin bubbles in blisters that burst and release these spores. The spores then blow around in the wind until they are inhaled, or come to settle into clusters in damp and dark areas. These clusters then reproduce.
The scenery is heavily urban, with little to no greenery (aside from recreational parks). Huge sky rises dominate this city, and are separated from each other by criss-crossed streets of smaller buildings. City 29 is supposed to be around 10 miles in radius. - This is all early concept though.
I will post the draft of the RP Summary here for you guys to inspect and comment on, before I go on to turn it into a live RP.
Tearstone said
Actually, this is the first thing that grabbed my attention on the Interest checks thread, and after reading through it, I am still interested. :D
Well if it recieves a little more interest I'll develop the summary to include more weapons and details of the infected, I'll also not do stupid stuff like mention the word 'smashes' three times in two sentences.
But we'll see.
Haha!
Um, I've got a question: When does this RP start? I know we're based at the New Alexandria area, but like you said it doesn't come under siege until halfway through the Covenant's assault. Do we go through a period of preperation whilst the Covenant advance upon the city? Or are we starting in the midst of the action?
Um, I've got a question: When does this RP start? I know we're based at the New Alexandria area, but like you said it doesn't come under siege until halfway through the Covenant's assault. Do we go through a period of preperation whilst the Covenant advance upon the city? Or are we starting in the midst of the action?
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