- ‘Commissar’ Holt, a young Commissar cadet. Barely a man, when the rest of the party were all over 25. He carried himself like a proper Commissar though.
- Me, Sergeant Quinnus, the supposed leader of the group. I had expressed an interest in having a plasma weapon, given that I’ve never used one in DHRP before, so I got the relatively rare loadout of plasma pistol + chainsword since a plasma gunner was apparently not an option. My character build was almost entirely the bare necessity to actually represent such a man, I took Iron Discipline as my one cherry on top.
- Corporal Mir, the party Medic. Apart from bothering to get proficiency in Medicae he was probably the most ‘standard’ guardsman in the group. I mean as it turned out we had a lot of allied mooks to be piles of meat holding a lasrifle as well, but Mir proved to be pretty good at it.
- 1st Private Dwayne Holt: Heavy weapons guy in residence. We were a generic shitty guard regiment from an Imperial World, so he only got a Heavy Stubber, but he rapidly proved a lack of weapon proficiency should never be considered an impediment to the Emperor’s will.
-1st Private Ivan ???: New to Dark Heresy. Basically made a grenade launcher/grenade based guy based off of crazy Ivan initially, but I think it would be fair to say he rapidly developed his own unique flavor.

This is the story of how these men became the A-team. Not in the literal “crime they didn’t commit” sense, more in terms of performance. They derailed a campaign that the GM had intended to be about their descent into a Penal legion, into a story about their ascent to the ranks of the Stormtroopers at rank 3, and indeed, they might not stop there.

Now when it kicked off, we had been sent to a planet that we barely knew the name of, to fight a rebellion we didn’t know the reason for. There was no obvious evidence of ruinous or untoward things amongst the rebels, not that the privates would be allowed to know how to identify such things. We’d been at an impasse for weeks, besieging an archeotech comms array that had been repurposed to jam warp communications.

The rebels had cut off our supply line 6 days ago, and ammo was beginning to run scarce. In fact, the Heavy Stubber was down to 9 shots (Not enough to actually fire), and my Plasma pistol had a single shot. The lasrifles all had in the vicinity of a magazine and a half left each. Ivan was the only person who lucked out in these earliest of rolls, having somehow obtained 10 krak grenades and a comparable number of frags throughout our battles. Us other PCs had a frag and a krak each, apparently.

In short, it was the dark bleakness of the bleak dark future, and command had just given us the order to charge the array, for better or worse. “Better to die for the Emperor than to live for yourself”, I said as Sarge, trying to match the apparently fatalistic tone of the session. We all made ready to climb the walls of the trench, except for one guardsman, some kind of coward. Fortunately, we had a Commissar to provide some motivation. The threat of death proved not to work, which I suppose just goes to show that such a man was not beyond redemption. The Commissar bodily grabbed him and pushed him in front of him out of the trench and onto the field as we charged. I recommended we aim for some still standing walls on the west flank before we went around to the main rampway up the hill on the east.

Expecting to be torn apart by las fire, autocannon fire, hell we could SEE a crew served lascannon up on the hill in plain sight, we instead were not pelted by fire on our crazed approach. We were instead greeted with the affections of a number of landmines. Somewhat unreliable devices. One detonated directly beneath the Commissar and his human shield, yet both of them were completely unharmed. And yet, on our east flank, a group of 4 closely grouped guardsmen found itself 3 members short from one detonation. Another detonation as we approached the cover lightly wounded Corporal Mir. We had made it across the killing field with our party, and 4 mooks, one of whom had a voxcaster unit. Going good so far.

It was at this point that we observed that the lascannon nest was unmanned. In fact, there was no sign of any rebels staffing this base, a somewhat confusing factor.

This is a good story, constructed of fun and cool

Oh fuck my lungs

Now, we investigated the base and found no signs of booby traps, just more generally unnerving shit. Meals still on the table in their makeshift mess hall, still warm. Now from my perspective I was expecting them to jump out of some fucking trapdoors any second now, but nonetheless, we at least had a small redeeming trait to our position: there was a sheer, glassy cliff-face just on the other side of the comm tower. Noone could approach us from there without aircraft.

After rearranging my men into what I thought was the most efficient arrangement to spot enemy movement and provide a measure of protection to the Commissar, who would take command in the event the next stage of the assault killed me, I took a mook, and proceeded to the primary objective as I had been informed of it (Albeit apparently the Captain didn’t tell anyone else), namely shutting down the comm array. By any means.

Now, on quick though we had no tech adepts with us. We didn’t even have any guard with tech use proficiency. The Corporal and I were both smart people, but there was no fucking hope of shutting this thing down gently. There were no obvious activation or deactivation runes. In the meanwhile, we came upon the rebels plentiful supply cache. Fuck knows how they managed to stay so well supplied when our trench essentially besieged them on all sides, but whatever. If I were a better meta-tactician I probably would have taken something from this, albeit I wouldn’t have been correct.

I remained suspicious that perhaps there might be a dungeon in the comms tower, but there were certainly none that I could detect. I took a krak grenade from their weapons stash, and tossed it into the well from whence came the majority of the power conduits that allowed the tower to function. If its archeotech, better not break it, but I figure they can always plug another power supply into it later if they want it so bad.

I worried the thing might blow up and kill us all, but it proved that moving everyone to a safe distance was unnecessary, as it just sort of fizzled out. Our primary objectives sated, command informed us a Valkyrie would be past to pick us up come morning. Still suspicious of enemy ambush, but unwilling to move back to our trenches ACROSS a minefield, I started figuring out who to put on which watch duty. And where. The comm tower neatly blocked all view from one side of the hill to the other. We could be easily flanked. Even with the Illuminators we set up to provide us some good lighting.

Holt decided it was time that that coward from earlier got some exercise. Clearing mines. Manually. With his feet. He cleared two, then the third left him a pile of meaty chunks. Unreliable indeed. I was… disdainful of his methods, but then the guy HAD shown cowardice in the face of orders that came from the top.

Don't worry, this isn't supposed to be the good part. The good part is approaching. Like a distant train.

Good job.
Nice story, nice storytelling, nice everything.
I want to play that game now.

Please hurry up, I want to read the rest.

/tg/ how do we make this image a fair fight?

>>18829864

Hush now, don't interrupt story time.

So, first watch was Dwayne manning his heavy stubber, near to a mounted Multimelta that we’d taken custody of, backed up by a mook, and on the other side of the hill, two other mooks (One with the vox). In hindsight I should have considered what happens to mooks when they leave the PCs sight, instead of what was a rational distribution in terms of proficiencies.

Second watch was going to be the rest of us PCs. We never got that far. Failing perception rolls constantly, we went to sleep, where we failed more. Dwayne failed plenty. Dwayne casually looked over to see a bunch of small dog sized metallic things had latched onto his comrade and were eating his fucking face. Said comrade was screaming. Dwayne opened up, and managed to tear apart one of them with his slightly replenished Heavy Stubber. The screams and gunfire began to wake the rest of the PCs up. Meanwhile, the scarabs decided that they had reached the limits of their patience with venturing into the new frontier of human internal organs, and began setting their sights on Dwayne. Dwayne spent a few frenzied moments trying to shoot them apart before it became a grapple with the things. Faster people than I rushed on ahead to help him as they tore apart his Guard flak, and I began moving that direction too, with Ivan hanging back a bit as well.

It was at this point that a fucking Wraith materialised behind Ivan.

>I’ve written up a fair bit of it ahead of time
Oh really.

>>18829941
>Wraith
>mfw

>>18829947
Sorry. It is like, the first 40% though.

WARNING: VALMORPHANIZATION AHEAD

Now, Wraiths, as you can imagine from a meta-perspective, are bad fucking news. Especially this close to the closest thing we have to an anti-armor specialist. Ivan, remembering the lessons of the Uplifting Infantry primer, immediately tosses a Krak at it. It phases straight through. Well, I guess whatever. Meta-wise I had no idea whether we could even expect that sort of thing to even work on it. I'm not wiz with Wraiths beyond the whole phasey stabbey part.

Then, being that the Scarabs were being cleaned up at this point, Mir decided his las fire would be better directed elsewhere. He turned around and made a semi-auto burst at the Wraith. One shot triple RFed. Dealing 34, pen 0, to the Wraith. It was... not outright destroyed, but the spring was well out of its step thanks to this opening salvo.

Then a pair of warriors appeared on the roof of the ruined building we'd slept in. Aww shit. I figured this was my chance. I could reduce their volume of fire with a good shot now. I drew my plasma pistol, and fired with no bonuses to my 33BS. Hit in the leg. Rolled a ten. Rolled another ten. Rolled a one. Nearly took the fucking thing down right there, it was apparently on zero.

>>18829864
How the hell did Keima get into this? Fucker just wants to play on his Nintendo faggot! Leave him out of this!

Plebian Jackie Chan film watchers. If you watch every Chan movie up to Rumble in the Bronx, there's no babies, very few ladders and the only rope scene I can think of is in Miracles. You need to watch the classics, like Winners and Sinners, Project A, Wheels on Meals and Dragons Forever.

>>18830095
>>18830073
GET THE FUCK OUT, WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF STORY TIME

The Commissar and Dwayne were still trying to get their shit together down the hill where the scarabs had struck, but it looked like we didn't need help:

The Wraith sidled into combat with Ivan, and stabbed at him with its "You are fucking dead" claws. And misses. Ivan's counterpoint to this was to stick a Krak grenade to its chest. The Krak grenade RF'd, dealing another 34 damage with a boatload of pen on top of that. The Wraith, sporting a new ventilation shaft through its chest, collapsed.

The Necron Warriors, now that I had made myself their most obvious threat, had it in for me. They raked their gauss flayers across the area at me, the GM seemingly trying to deny my chance to declare dodge (Brutal dodge rules) by rolling that shit all fast like. NOT THAT IT MATTERED: NOONE IS ALLOWED TO HIT SARGE. They all harmlessly flayed the fuck out of some concrete or whatever we were standing on.

I tossed my one frag grenade desperately at the warriors, hoping to glance the intact one and finish the wounded. Now I rolled by strength test... and rolled short. After all, those Necrons were about 25m away and I had SB3. I THOUGHT I had failed. However, it turns out that my understanding of DH throwing rules has been wrong all this time: Failing the S test only results in greater penalties to hit on the BS test due to range increments. Rolling at a -20 to my already shitty BS...

I hit. Right fucking between them. The frag downs the weakened Cron, and is just soaked by the other.

>>18830145
What are these "brutal dodge rules"? Is it just "if you don't declare or roll dodge before someone rolls to hit, you don't get to dodge"?

>>18830208

Well its rather the idea of, If you pass your dodge rule by the same degree that your opponent has rolled to hit, e.g. I pass my dodge roll by 1 degree of success, while my opponent has hit me by 1 degree of success, I dodge into the gunfire, and take damage as normal.

Now, there was a small downside to our run of success: Ivan was now trapped between an overturned metal statue, and I had nothing but a single shot remaining in my lasrifle before I'd be completely out of ranged ammo prior to reloading.

The Commissar was almost back to us (I forgot to mention we had a mook that decided to run away at the sight of scarabs eating a guys face. That was what he was somewhat preoccupied with, namely tending to morale with a bolt shell to the leg of this guy, who subsequently tripped and fell onto a landmine and exploded), albeit I wasn't paying much attention to Dwayne's position at the time. I can't decide whether I was an idiot for thinking this was unimportant, or glad that I could be surprised by what would eventually come of this. Peripherally, I noted another pair of warriors emerge from the fog of war on the other side of the hill: I could only assume the worst for our other two mooks.

The dreaded "I'll be Back" rules struck. Our previous kills were uncounted, as the Wraith rose to confront us once more. It lashed out at Ivan, and missed.

And we promptly told it to sit the fuck down. My last lasrifle round, another lasburst from Mir, and another Krak from Ivan all failed to be defended by its phasing, and had a bit of the Emperor's glory going on with them. In short, the Wraith once again fell upon Ivan, a slightly warmer, more smoking heap than it was 6 seconds ago when it last fell on him.

>>18830246
No, the first guy had it right in this case, albeit I am familiar with your one. Brutal dodge is declare dodge before they roll to hit. This may actually be the proper intention of the rules. It is a mystery to me, but I generally use it so it doesn't matter. It doesn't much difference if its a boss fight or whatever, but as soon as you have multiple enemies in the picture, it reduces your survivability a lot.
The GM took this moment to inform us he was using Necrons intended for Deathwatch, and that this encounter had been something we were meant to run from.. Now having seen Deathwatch Necrons, I can tell you these lay a hell of a lot beyond that. They were houserules made to reflect necrons the same way movie marines do for spess. The stats for the Wraith were probably closer to what FFG gives you for a Tomb Spyder, plus phasing and improved CC.

Perhaps upset at the loss of its heterosexual life partner, the remaining warrior of the pair firing from the roof continued to focus its fire on me. It once again proved that despite having BS75, the Necrons ultimately adhere to the ancient art of stormtrooper marksmanship.

The flanking pair of warriors showed up. They managed to get a glancing hit on Mir. Good fucking god, these Gauss rules! They appear to ignore AP and TB with similar damage to say, a lasrifle, and they also inflict 1d10 critical damage. Just right off the bat. Mir is a less happy man after being hit, but is ultimately in fighting condition. Those cheeky xenos!

It was at this point Dwayne revealed his masterstroke: He had been repositioning the Multimelta cannon mounted down the hill. Firing with no proficiency in melta weapons, after spending a fate to reroll the hit, he managed to hit precisely enough to catch both of these sneaky and pernicious skeleton warriors in the blast. And by catch them in the blast I mean he fucking evaporates them. There aren't a whole lot of things that can permanently kill a Necron, but that much overdamage from an Energy based weapon with a blast template? We just relieved two immortal Necrontyr warriors of their posts.

The Commissar passed me by, just as I was considering what to do next. "Charge with me!". Well, I *do* have a chainsword, and I do love the Emperor. And well, I also have no ammo. And by the looks of it, in character at least, these guys are no threat in CC. Like Eldar, except not graceful or fast. After all, our weapons have been passing through them like lumps of metallic butter.

The Wraith gets up again. By this stage we have a highly efficient Wraith killing machine going on between Mir's righteous fury-ing Kraks, and Mir's righteous fury-ing las. I figure they can handle this guy. Ivan is unable to leave melee with it, because it keeps crushing him every time its felled, but that's fine.

I make the charge with the Commissar towards the stairs, and well, I pay the price. One of the warriors gets up, and, after the customary misses, in his vengeance, I take a gauss blast straight to the chest.

NOOOOOOOO
SARGE!
I'LL CRY WHEN I'M DONE KILLIN'

>>18830395
This is my first time on /tg/ this is awesome.

I may have taken 10 wounds, but that's of no consequence. What is of consequence is the effect of 6 critical. I'm knocked prone. I'm stunned for 4 rounds. I take 4 levels of fatigue. This is not a good thing when you are charging across a courtyard to get to the set of stairs on the other side so you can stop dudes sniping at you with fucking GREEN LASER BEAMS.

The GM revealed that his intention had been we would take a cue from our fleeing comrade and flee at the sight of a Wraith. We would have been arrested for cowardice and put in a penal legion. But no, we had to stay and fight, and now we were going to die.

I must admit I had my doubts at this point. I had plenty of time to contemplate, since noone was in a position to give me the kiss of life. Mir was in poor condition, Ivan was running out of grenades. The Wraith showed no signs of failing its I'll be Back roll any time soon. Probably the only thing saving me from the warriors finishing me off was that Holt had reached them and engaged them in melee, a battle that he was struggling with.

The last few grenades left Mir's belt. The Wraith went down. It seemed content to slumber a while, waiting for its chance to tear us a new asshole when it could awaken to a party that no longer had any weapon that could offer a defense against it.

The Commissar had done well, managing the phase out one of the warriors, and lightly wound the other, albeit he'd taken 2 crit in the process. It was at this point that he pulled a fast krak grenade. Why didn't he use it earlier? Only the Commissariat would know. Now, the krak grenade may have had no significant effect on the warrior, and the act of doing so may have caused him to slip and fall down the stairs. And the act of falling down the stairs may have caused him to take another 4 critical to the head. But somehow, this wasn't such a bad thing. In hindsight.

Because do you know what 6 impact crit to the head is? Fucking nothing. Its a tiptoe short of oblivion, but its mechanical effects are barely even an inconvenience.

Mir, noting a lul in the fighting, stimmed me. It may have disappointed him to find I had no ranged ammo, but it sure didn't disappoint the necron warrior! Its favourite target practice could play at coming back to life too! It wanted to hug me with those deadly beams so badly. But I am Sarge. And I cannot die.

Heavy Stubber rounds began peppering the remaining Warrior from behind. It wasn't EFFECTIVE, but well, it took me by surprise. Dwayne had moved AROUND the hill to attack the warrior from beneath and behind. The warrior was, I hope, similarly surprised.

I drew my last grenade, a krak, and began aiming. This would be a long shot. Similar to my earlier years as Skullball (???) regional champ. The Wraith phased out behind me, as if realising that ultimately its life was meaningless and it would never amount to anything. This was about Sarge and the perfect goal.

>>18830598
Sarge, you make the Emperor proud.

Or not. Turns out Mir had a grenade left too, and it sailed on ahead, annihilating the last of the skeletally fashionable xenos.

They died as they lived: ephemeral, ineffective, and kind of gay.

The GM was... upset.

We just waltzed in, us mortals of the guard, and took down the soulless and unstoppable machines of a billion year old race with powers beyond our imagining.

We all started humming, in perfect harmony, the A-team theme.

There was indeed an epilogue. After all, we couldn't just leave it at that, at disparaging comments about sending the Deceiver after us next time, or my response that if the GM gave me a full plasma pistol clip this time I'd be happy to.

>>18830598
>in my dream i am the sarge.
>its me

>>18830641

The funny part is that C'tan shards are officially statted, and they're not that hard to deal with.

>>18830641
Things tend to get easier when you use Melta weapons.
Melta weapons solve everything.
One little fight and your mom got scared? Melta.
Forgot to do your homework? Melta
Astartes kicking sand in your face at the beach? Melta.

After having taken, head on, with no casualties, as rank 2 DH guardsmen, a scenario identical to one which had previously been used to kill nearly all of a starting deathwatch party, naturally there was a bit of in character buzz.

When we voxed in our cool story, a black trench-coated figure arrived on our valkyrie, to inspect the scene. Upon finding a few pieces that had failed to phase out, he immediately became nervous, cordoning off the area and preventing any guard personnel from entering.

We returned to our barracks, and were confined there for days. Eventually we spoke, as a group with a woman in a trenchcoat. Tension in the air was heavy, even for those of us who failed to realise they were in the presence of an Inquisitor. She was understandably incredulous that we had survived an attack by Necrons so well, and even more confused by our claims that standard Imperial infantry weaponry had shown to be totally effective at piercing their thin armor and fragile bodies.

She stated that the few scarred survivors of the rest of our regiment, most of which was dead from an attack that occurred in parallel, would be folded into the 372nd Samsonians. We? would be listed as dead. If anyone encounters us, we are not to speak of the incident. We are ESPECIALLY not to speak of the nature of our enemy on that night.

I had suspicions this lady might be a bit daft. To be honest, these xenos seemed a great deal less threatening than my fellow man had been as rebels. But I went along with it because hey, Inquisitor.

We were, once more, confined to the Bunker.

Bumping for more

win

A few days later, Holt and I were called out to a SHUTTLE. OOH LALA! How fancy it was. We accompanied the Inquisitor, who we had taken to calling Amber, up to see the fucking LORD GENERAL HIMSELF. The surroundings were, as you can imagine, plusher than a man such as me had seen in his 30 years of life.

Obviously I took the opportunity to kneel when such a great man decides I am worthy of his presence. Holt didn't really seem to think much of the whole thing. I have suspicions now that Holt is either secretly a noble of some kind, or just a huge asshole. Or both.

The Lord General asked we retell for him the story. Holt immediately complied, however I, remembering the Inquisitor's words earlier desperately made eye contact with her. She spoke up to say it was okay to inform him. The Lord General said something that filled me with shock: That this woman believed there was a threat of level Xenos Extremis located on this world. And that indeed, she had been advocating complete exterminatus of the world entirely. What we had encountered related to this. As such I filled in the Lord General on what I, Sarge, felt were pertinent factors.

Namely that the enemy xenos, while inhumanly tenacious, did not seem to be resistant to light anti-armor weaponry despite their entirely metallic appearance. Whichever fool designed them gave them a protective coat less efficient than Imperial flak, and proved tactically useless as well, evidently exposing a weakpoint in their entire formation to us.

I must admit that even in character I didn't expect much of this to have any effect on his opinions. He seemed to have some prior knowledge of these so called "Necrons" and found it amusing that we thought so lightly of them despite meeting them in battle.

We were informed that for whatever reason, we were going back down there. An Inquisitorial aide would brief us in the shuttle on the way down.

Or not. DAMN YOU AMBERLEY VAIL! (We had decided that, being Ordo Xenos and identical in appearance and manner, rationally this woman must be Amberley Vail).

The Aide she sent us off with didn't know shit about Necrons. Leaving us essentially STILL without any knowledge of whatever it is that makes these Necrons so dangerous to the Imperium.

All we got out of the aide was the immediate details of the mission: a nexus of activity had been identified, and several squads of stormtroopers and a guard regiment sent there to investigate. All had gone missing. We would be following in their footsteps, to succeed where they had failed.

"Fuck the top brass" sense tingling.

Looks like a job for the newly instated "Alpha Team". I was mercifully at least informed that we would have stormtrooper level access to the armory for our next mission. The others took the opportunity to get a serious upgrade to their weapon loadouts, but to be perfectly honest, there isn't anything that logically follows up from a PP/CS loadout short of switching to a power sword, which was apparently beyond our means. I figure I might be able to loot one later if we find these missing stormtroopers, unless this Necron propensity to eat metal that I observed earlier when they were taking bites out of Dwayne has consumed their supplies.

To be honest, I'm happy with what I have, weapons wise, unlike the rest of the squad. It makes Sarge Sarge. I might pick up a gadget or too. Not skipping the chance for light carapace either. Even if I'm not allowed to wear a helmet because I'm Sarge, and I have earnt that. When we asked around at the start of the session whether we had any names, only Holt replied. The rest of us? We just said we were mooks, cogs in the machine, it didn't matter.

Now we have names. And we have A name. The A - team.

If you have Necron problems, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can requisition... The A-Team.

>This entire story
>Rank 2 guardsmen killing DEATHWATCH scaled mobs
>Not a single casualty

>>18830992

Please tell me thats not the fucking end right there and that the GM awarded you lot Fate points right there for what you guys just did.

If you got necron problems I feel bad for you son
I got 99 problems but a cron ain't one'

Mind you, OOC, there's a caveat to this. We are no wiser about Necrons IC, and now everyone thinks we can deal with them no sweat. This may actually be true. However the GM was pretty buttdevastated by the change in trajectory, so he isn't going to make this easy.

I calculated that a Deathwatch party encountering the same enemies and conundrums would have made 600XP that session. So that was the XP we got. This gets us 100XP into rank 3. That isn't even "slightly less fucked" when it comes to Necrons, let alone Necrons that are souped up relative to the FFG standard. This is a guy who can't stand the new fluff because it humanised and humorised his perfect inexorable killing machines.

But by god I am going to try to keep this as Saturday Morning Heresy as I can. The Necrons? They've withdrawn to their lair beneath the planetary crust. They curse at us, designating us Team - A: The first team to thwart their plan since the great revival began. I've had enough of grimdarkian shenanigans in DHRP for now, I need a break, and this made me realise it. I've dealt with plenty of Mary sue bullshit, but it's still been covered in the grimdark tar of 40k. Just once, I want to be the action hero. Even if in the scheme of things I didn't do much this session, after all, I only downed a warrior once, I FELT like the way it unfolded was somehow due to the way I'd handled *my* men. I like being Sarge. And I'm willing to fight for this.

>>18831145
>Saturday Morning Heresy

I am tempted to run my next campaign like that and see how long it takes the players to catch on.

>>18831145

Did any of the other red shirts survive that night?

Can't you justify that seeing how your entire regiment got devastated and that all those stormtroopers going missing should mean that you lot should at least be a little careful?

>>18831079
We were given a group fate point. It can't be spent, but it can be burnt to rewind time. Lord knows if it will be useful. I suspect that, despite previous times I've had access to such mechanics proving them to be useless, our general lack of any kind of Xenos based knowledge skills will make this valuable one day.

Otherwise, our access to the upper eschelons of the DH armament and the lower eschelons of the Ascension armament is probably fair compensation honestly.

Even if fluffwise this is "A fate point each" kind of material, we made it look *easy*

>>18831222
I super jelly that I don't get to play this campaign brah

>>18831208
IC, I know that there is clearly SOMETHING extremely threatening about the Necrons. The way that the Inquisitress and Lord General acted are one hint. And I'm smart enough to know that we are NOT as good at this as Stormtroopers. But I'm assuming its something that we don't know about, and have by some miracle managed to avoid. Like they can cause anyone wearing green to explode or something. Sarge is going to be cautious as fuck, but he won't, for instance, have any qualms about engaging Necron warriors in a straight up firefight, because they simply weren't a threat. And likewise he feels like he has the method for taking down Wraiths nailed down. Even though he doesn't, actually.

OOC, I know that it is just our repeated improbable rolls shielded us from the horror that was in front of us the whole time.

Oh, and it IS true that the Necrons managed to kill a few red shirts in plain sight of us. Just hours earlier however, the traps LEFT BEHIND by the COMPLETELY ABSENT rebels achieved a higher body count. Hell, Commissar Holt had an equal kill rate on our soldiers compared to any of the Necrons individually.

>>18831327

How many surivived the night?

Are they following you back into hell?

>>18831335
Literally just the PCs. I'm pretty sure the GM had no intention for any of the redshirts to live: Any of them that weren't in a position to die by the crons would have gone full retard into the minefield like the other guy.

That said, I have high hopes we will one day see the pitter patter of redshirt feet on the battlefield again. I felt really invigorated controlling them during the charge at the start of the session, albeit maybe that has a lot to do with having proper terrain setups for everything. Stuff like not being able to pay good attention to Dwayne out of character when he was out of sight in character is just nearly impossible to pull off when you are shuffling markers around a flat, schematic mapgrid.

>>18831393

/tg/ expects stories when your next session ends man!

>>18831538
I'll try to make it happen. Supposedly there is a player who is supposed to be joining us who missed this session. His recap will be via this thread. Bumps, talking about anti-cron strats, other stories, would all be approeciated.

>>18831599
Focus fire ought to be your friend. I assume more structural damage keeps them down longer or makes them phase. Red dots and nail them in the chest at the same time, with hellguns ideally.

Grenade launcher guy should be able to fuck them up pretty good with krak grenades.

Get as much dodge/agility as possible (and Hard Target), the best way to survive gauss is to avoid it entirely. Invest in the talents that reduce the effects of crits (Die Hard, Iron Jaw)

You'll want Iron Discipline and its relatives to keep your redshirts in line.

>>18831393

I hope you pimped out your PP with scopes and all that.

>>18830430
Good day.

Prepare to lose your afternoon.

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html

I do believe an Archiving is in order for this thread

But, just.... why

/tg/ explain to me how and why this is possible

>>18836054

Because The Emperor Protects, of course.