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>Back after the longest of long breaks, Cursed has returned with another shitty quest to mildly entertain you guys!

This will be a pretty slow paced quest as my current job is pretty demanding but I'll try to crank out a few daily updates and answer questions during breaks. Updates will be more frequent during my days off (Sunday, Tuesday and Wednesday) and after 9pm on other weekdays and Saturday. That being said, this quest is set in my ShellStorm setting and is a more command oriented with base construction, resource management and unit command interspersed with missions allowing you to take control of a single character on the battlefield. Rolls are d100, higher the better, best of 3 like always. Now, with all that out of the way, lets get started!

The earth shakes and shudders under the relentless march of millions. Man and beast, machine and Mech stride across the battlefields, marching forward into that relentless grinder of war. The skies are choked with ash and soot, the detritus of millions of lives, murky with the exhaust of massive war machines and swollen airships, cutting through the miasmic mist like ancient monsters of the sea.

The cities of Europe have withdrawn into massive underground bunkers, their tunnels housing factories and mines along with the huddled masses that fled the wars above. It was in these tunnels, sprawling ever deeper, that it was found. "The Underworld" as it was called by those filthy, half starved miners who first breached its depths. Filled with the richest veins of ore any had ever seen, stretching for tens of miles at a time. But these metals were not enough, deeper and deeper they delved until they found it. Vast oceans of a thick, tarry liquid, its vapors strong enough to kill men. It was refined, purified, perfected into what scientists reverently called "Olympium". When mixed with fuels, it increased their potency a hundreds, when its crystallized form was introduced to steel it was found to be five times as strong with a third of the weight. Overnight, it revolutionized warfare, allowing even the most fanciful of war machine to be possible. Each nation with the power to do so delved into the Underworld, securing their own claim to the vast riches below.

>Cont
>>
>>3068873
>Cont

The Great War has become three dimensional, fought in the air, on the land and sea and deep, deep beneath the earth. Each nation struggles for supremacy, for reasons none living remember, all for that slight advantage that will allow this titanic conflict to come to an end.

That is your task, your orders once sealed with a wax bound cord, coming directly from high command. You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose as you review them once again. At the top of the thick, musty paper is a seal in the shape of...

>The Eagle and 72 stars of the NUSA. Patriotism at its most brutal

>The Union Jack. For Queen and Country!

>The Iron Eagle. For the Reich! For the Motherland!

>The Crossed Sickle and Skull. For Mother Russia! For the Czar!

>The Golden Scorpion. May Allah grant victory

>The Rising Sun. The Asian-Alliance stands strong
>>
>>3068874
>The Union Jack. For Queen and Country!
Welcome back Cursed.
>>
>>3068874
>>The Eagle and 72 stars of the NUSA. Patriotism at its most brutal
>>
>>3068890
Its good to be back. I'll be instituting maps and art into this once I get myself a computer that isn't a potato
>>
>>3068874
>>The Eagle and 72 stars of the NUSA. Patriotism at its most brutal.

I guess I'll let you enjoy our 'murican this ye damm gringo
>>
>>3068873
The Great War with mechs. No Great Polania Republic...

>The Iron Eagle. For the Reich! For the Motherland!
>>
>>3068874

>>The Eagle and 72 stars of the NUSA. Patriotism at its most brutal.

USA! USA! USA! USA! WE'LL BRING FREEDOM TO THE WORLD BY CHRISTMAS BOYS!
>>
>>3068874
>>The Eagle and 72 stars of the NUSA. Patriotism at its most brutal
>>
>The NUSA takes it with 4 votes.

The stylized Eagle deeply imprinted into the paper stares back at you with haughty menace in those inked over eyes. Its talons grip a bundle of arrows and a flaming sabre, the olive branch you read about in your history classes having long since been discarded. Arrayed in a starburst around the avian symbol is a spray of 72 stars, one each for each new territory. You had been a child when your father returned home (minus a leg and his left arm) from the annexation of Brazil and the final addition to the flag. The northern territories of Canada and the southern of mexico, central and South America all now payed homage to the stars and stripes. With a vast fleet of airships, including the flying fortress "Olympus", Old Uncle Sam had steamrolled from one end of the continent to the other, uniting the America's with iron fist and unflinching will.

As the fires of war faded from the American continent, they were replaced instead by the flames of industry. The discovery of the Underworld had prompted the creation of vast mining cities, their reaches sprawling ever deeper in monstrous open air pits. Tarry black soot stained the skies as the earth itself was plundered with a vicious singlemindedness that only a true American could appreciate. The material and mineral wealth they now had access to, fueled new heights of industrial and military prowess and as Europe called for aid, as the Russian hordes made landfall on the Alaskan coast, as The Asian Alliance sought to uproot their foothold on the Pacific Islands, that slumbering giant was roused with terrible fury.

You skim the orders again, only where you and your men would be stationed mattering to you, the objective, the PLAN itself would come later. Right now, the only thing that matters is *where* youre headed.

>The Alaskan front. Face the Russians on the frozen wastelands and push them back to their own.

>The British front. Land on the beaches and assist in the defense of that lonely island.

>The French Front. Push back the Germans and begin seizing territory, theyre heavily dug in.

>North African front. The Arab-African League and the Germans are massing an offensive. Stop it.

>The Pacific front. Island hopping fun repelling invasions by the Asian Alliance and seizing your own.
>>
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>>3069067
Violence must escalate.

>The British front. Land on the beaches and assist in the defense of that lonely island.
>>
>>3069067
>North African front. The Arab-African League and the Germans are massing an offensive. Stop it.
>>
>>3069067
>North African front. The Arab-African League and the Germans are massing an offensive. Stop it.
>>
>>3069067

>The British front. Land on the beaches and assist in the defense of that lonely island.
>>
>>3069067
>>The French Front. Push back the Germans and begin seizing territory, theyre heavily dug in.
>>
>>3069067
North African front.
>>
>>3069067
>>The Alaskan front. Face the Russians on the frozen wastelands and push them back to their own.

Since when europe is NUSA's ally? They have their own problems and they have to deal with them! Sad that serene Alaska will turn into hell but... damm ruski
>>
>>3069067
>The Alaskan front. Face the Russians on the frozen wastelands and push them back to their own.


We have 72 stars not 71.
>>
>>3069067

>The Alaskan front. Face the Russians on the frozen wastelands and push them back to their own. Stop it.

Well boys, time for some Slav Slaughtering this Sunday
>>
>2 for British

>3 for Alaskan

>3 for North African

Its gettin' spicy bois
>>
>>3069132

I'm gonna swap to North Africa. It's time pull the life-support off of the sick man of Europe
>>
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>>3069132
3. Is it important to know any of the lore?
>>
>>3069138
Its not super important. I will answer any lore questions as long as they dont spoil things
>>
>>3069137

That and it's time for the AMERICAN scramble for Africa!
>>
>>3069138
lore? BIG GUNS AND MECHS SON.
NO ZAKU BOY THIS IS NO ZAKU
>>
What front would be considered the "most important" in terms of the lion's share of the resources and "least important" as well?

What about propaganda wise?
>>
>>3069141
it s time to have new stars in africa
>>
>>3069182
The Alaskan and Pacific are really near America.
>>
>North Africa takes it with 4 votes!
>SensingAPattern.jpg

You sigh as you look over the deployment orders for you and your men. Its the usual shit you're accustomed to seeing from pencil pushers and decrepit general's back home in the states. You sit down heavily in the uncomfortably hard seat supplied for your quarters on this swollen airship and sigh, running a palm across the back of your neck as you re-read the dispatch.

"You are to establish radio connection upon landing in French Morrocco. Remnants of the French Military will rendezvous and supply material aid and manpower to assist on construction and establishment of a Forward Operating Base. Expect monthly resupply, acquisition of local supplies and salvage is authorized as needed."

At that you at least crack a grin, it seems command finally realizes that they dont supply nearly enough to keep a position adequate let alone allow one to grow and be secure. If your men are allowed to secure some additional resources it could make things a lot easier. You take a swig from your canteen and rinse the sooty flavor from your teeth as you continue to read.

"Intelligence has uncovered a sizeable German and Arab-African force that has been mobilized and is preparing for an offensive against the French positions in order to seize coastal territory to bypass the British positions at Gibraltar. They must not be allowed to capture these positions. Hold them.

-Colonel Alexander Moore"


You sigh again, scratching your cheek as you read and reread the orders, commuting them to memory before you nod to yourself and touch the edge of the paper to the candle on your desk, letting it burn for a moment before tossing it into the metal wastebasket at the edge of your desk. Even on a Airship, you could never be too secure.

With that being done, you pull out your notebook, making careful note of the men and assets being attributed to your command.

>Cont
>>
>>3069245
>Cont

>50R (Resource points) available

>Basic infantry
-Rifle Platoon- several squads of infantry armed with rifles, submachine guns and grenades. They excel in taking and holding positions, crumbling before armored assaults without support or upgrades. (30 Men per Unit) 10R
-Sniper Team-a small squad of men armed with long range rifles and pistols/submachine guns. Devastating to infantry and excellent scouts, they are harmless to Mechs without significant upgrades. 8 Snipers Per Unit) 20R
-Trench Gunners- Heavily armed and fearless men, the Trench Gunners excel in close combat, killing the enemy from within their own fortifications.(20 TG’s per Unit) 15R

>Basic Armor
-Raider Motorcycle Squads- All terrain armoured bikes fitted with a reverse mounted passenger seat equipped with a light machine gun. Useful for scouting and harassing enemy light infantry. (10 Bikes per unit) 15R.
-Warhorse Armored Truck- armed with a light machine gun and coated with armored plates, the Warhorse is capable as a light support unit, a APC or can be upgraded to Gun Truck duties. (5 Trucks per unit) 20R
-GI Armored Walker- A squad of the mainstay bipedal walkers of the NUSA. Lightly armed and armoured, they are agile and dexterous, fighting to support the infantry squads accompanying them.(8 GI’s per Unit) 25R
-Terrier light tank- a small group of the lightly armed and fast moving tanks used as support and screening for the heavier armor. Their 60mm autocannon and LMG turrets provide decent offence to the pint sized war machines. (4 Terriers per unit) 35R
>Thumper light artillery- This highly mobile and versatile artillery piece can lay down highly accurate 6lb shells with a variety of different ammunition. (3 Thumpers per unit) 20R
>>
>>3069260
Do we choose things now, cursed senpai?
>>
>>3069270
Choose my child. These are your first units. Basic, cheap and squishy but they will improve in time
>>
>>3069260
-Warhorse Armored Truck 20R
-Rifle Platoon 10R
-Sniper Team 20R
>>
>>3069245
>French Morrocco


It will be soon American Morrocco.
>>
>>3069260

>Basic infantry
-Rifle Platoon- several squads of infantry armed with rifles, submachine guns and grenades. They excel in taking and holding positions, crumbling before armored assaults without support or upgrades. (30 Men per Unit) 10R


>Basic Armor
-Raider Motorcycle Squads- All terrain armoured bikes fitted with a reverse mounted passenger seat equipped with a light machine gun. Useful for scouting and harassing enemy light infantry. (10 Bikes per unit) 15R.

-GI Armored Walker- A squad of the mainstay bipedal walkers of the NUSA. Lightly armed and armoured, they are agile and dexterous, fighting to support the infantry squads accompanying them.(8 GI’s per Unit) 25R


The walkers will deal against heavy infantry while our platoon will offer support against specialized anti-armor units that may ambush and destroy our mechs. The squad will survey positions in advance and destroy light-infantry but will be weak against everything else pretty much. This combo should seize territory fast and safe.

A detail that bugs me is the state of our french back up... antoher thing would be prepare for light-infantry french reinforcements and consider Warhorses...
>>
>>3069294
What were WWII french units known for, or in this setting?
Don't go into Le surrender meme please
>>
>>3069300
French units are decent light-medium infantry, theyre pretty good at defensive actions and urban combat but their lack of heavy armor gets them slaughtered in field battles against the germans
>>
>>3069260

>Thumper light artillery 20R
>Trench Gunners 15R
>Raider Motorcycle Squad 15R.

Can we still loot other mechs to make our own ace custom Mr. Cursed?
>>
>>3069260
>Thumper light artillery- This highly mobile and versatile artillery piece can lay down highly accurate 6lb shells with a variety of different ammunition. (3 Thumpers per unit) 20R

>GI Armored Walker- A squad of the mainstay bipedal walkers of the NUSA. Lightly armed and armoured, they are agile and dexterous, fighting to support the infantry squads accompanying them.(8 GI’s per Unit) 25R

Its a bit limited, but we can Crack down enemies, then cruise in with the walkers. All the while the thumpers can keep pounding.
>>
>>3069294
Support


- - - -

We go fast then.


After a region we have conquered is "enlighted" enough we should take auxiliarys from there (or High Command can t give us this option ? I mean do we take them or give them back to french&britain ?).
>>
>>3069305
There will actually be multiple perspectives here. You have the current PC, the as of yet unnamed Commander of the FOB. In this view you will manage the base and dispatch units on missions, order new units and oversee any major decisions. On mission you will take control of a single character and play through the mission. At the end, you will revert back to the commander and repeat. Units can be promoted, player characters can be promoted, techs can be upgraded, etc. Hero units ARE a thing
>>
>>3069315

I'll support this. Quality over quantity
>>
>>3069260
I will change my vote to that>>3069294
>>
>>3069316
They'll be considered US Territory and you'll receive greater resources in return for getting them.
>>
>>3069305
Supporting.
>>
>>3069294
This wins. Writan
>>
>1 Rifle Platoon
>1 Raider Motorcycle squad
>1 Unit of GI Walkers

You look over the men assigned to you, scratching your chin and grimacing slightly at the thought of holding an area for any length of time without any major support. You guess you'll have to make do with them for the time being. Youve had to make do with less before. The riflemen, while a little squishy compared to the massive warmachines plodding the major battlefields, can easily be a threat to light and medium armor if you can get access to some anti-tank rockets or some blasting charges. The raiders will excel in harassing enemy positions and scouting out weak points while the GIs can smash through enemy light armor and infantry with ease.

Reassured, you cap your canteen and close your notebook. Placing it back in the chest that holds your meagre personal effects, you stand, dusting your palms on your uniform as the airship lurches in the wind, the idle chugging of the engine picking up as it fights against a headwind. With several hours left in your trip you decide to..

>Take a walk along the skydeck

>Go meet with the men under your command.

>Go meet with the captain of this airship

>try to get some shut eye, its gonna be a busy next few... Months.
>>
>>3069433
>Go meet with the men under your command.
>>
>>3069433

>Go meet with the men under your command.
>>
>>3069433
>Go meet with the men under your command.
>>
>>3069441
spurting'
>>
>>3069433
Walk along the skydeck.
>>
>Go meet with the men

You look longingly at the comparatively soft bed fitted into the wall of your cabin. After this, it will be several months of sleeping on a canvas cot or more likely a thick blanket on the floot. But the duties of command refuse to rest and so must you. You lace your boots tightly and make sure you look at least marginally presentable, making sure your Captains pins are polished and visible before you don your cap and step out into the hall, closing your cabin door behind you.

Airmen step back out of your path with nods and salutes if they have a free hand. You brush past them, the floors humming faintly under your boots as you stride towards the cavernous hold where the majority of the men under your command are berthed. At your approach, a khaki uniformed Airman snaps a salute and quickly opens the bulkhead as you stride past with a nod and grunt of thanks. Your ears and nose are immediately assaulted by the tinny clamor of some shoddily constructed radio picking up weak frequencies from British "morale radio", the clang and patter of machines and tools as Mech pilots work on their rigs and infantry and Raiders spar in a makeshift boxing ring, others seated on ammo and supply crates, smoking and playing cards. But as your boots ring out across the space with the authority only an officer can posses, men turn and snap to attention, the shout of
"Officer on deck!" Ringing loud and clear.

You brace your hands on the railing ahead of you and survey the men before You. Most of them are young, probably fresh from basic or their first station in some cushy base on the western seaboard or in the Southern territories. But still, there are a few that have seen combat, a few that could be worth their weight in blood and brass.

>Address your men (write in)

>Speak with your junior officers

>"As you were!" Watch them.

>Other
>>
>>3069606
>>Speak with your junior officers

Lets be distant for now and save any speech for when we land at Africa. Echange pleasantries with the officers, minor things like if they know Africa but do ask about the unit cohesion. Since the gringo anexed america recently, there may be recruits from other countries and them forming groups and keeping to themselves calls for conflict.
>>
>>3069652
+1
>>
>>3069606
>Other
Talk about the situation on the African front.
>>
>>3069606
>as you were.
>>
>>3069652
+1 ask about their experience
>>
>Speak with your junior officers.


You quickly wrack your mind for the names of the junior officers under your command. With a gesture and a slight raising of your voice you call out as you step down the thin metal stairs to the hold floor.

"Santiago! Jacobs! Firth! Front and center! Rest of you, as you were!"
You bark out, the three chosen men stepping forward from the clumps of their men, each snapping a salute and standing at attention as you survey them. Matias Santiago is, from what you remember of his file, a stocky and stone faced Master Sergeant of mexican descent. The Mech Pilot is stained with soot and grease from the maintenance of his GI. First Lieutenant Bradley Jacobs stands center of the trio, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his disassembled rifle on the table behind him explaining the stains of gun oil on his hands as he focuses on a point over your shoulder. Close cropped blonde hair does little to conceal a twisting scar stretching from his temple down to his jawline, the discolored tissue standing bright as day. Second Lieutenant Arthur Firth holds his salute with ease, his dark hair almost past regulation length but you dont intend on making that big of a deal over it. Raiders had a difficult, unpleasant job and you didnt begrudge them for it.

"At ease"
At your urging they drop from attention and relax. You stand before the junior officers and cross your arms behind your back.

>What do you say/ask?
>>
>>3069873
Explain the situation in Africa.
>>
>>3069884
yes, africa. Let's talk to 'em about what kind of reinforcements we expect from the french because we totally know about it and it's not a blatant need for exposure
>>
>>3069884
+1

And ask how their men feels and if the equipment has any problem.
>>
You turn and pace before the officers, turning on your heel as you every ten paces and keeping your gaze focused on them. Finally you speak, your voice carrying like a megaphone.
"Im sure you're aware of our destination. French Morrocco to help the damn exiled French repel an assault by the Germans. The Frenchies have dug in hard, they've been holding out and giving our forces in central Africa a place to resupply and regroup. The Germans and the Arabs intend to put that to an end. We will be landing in a forward position and immediately begin construction of a forward operating base in a secure and defensible position!"
You bark, slamming the bottom of your fist into your open palm.
"From this position, we will engage the enemy to the best of our capacity and ability! The French assets in the area are going to be supply support in both men and materials but for the most part, beyond our reinforcement and resupply shipments, we are ON OUR OWN."

Santiago grunts, crossing his forearms and nodding slightly. Bradley rubs his chin, a finger idly tapping the scar along his cheek. Firth seems pensive and you direct your attention to him.
"Question Lieutenant Firth?"

The swarthy man nods, clearing his throat.
"Sir, what kind of opposition can we expect?"

You nod, expecting the question.
"Good question Firth. Unless we venture deeper into German or Arab-African territory, we shouldnt expect to see anything heavier than a their Spider-Class walkers, maybe heavier tanks in their fortified positions but Intel suggests they are used for more as static support as the sand doesn't fare well with their treads. We should expect light infantry, possibly some of their heavier ground forces, light to medium armor with an emphasis on the Soldat and Dervish models. Enemy air support is mainly expected as light to sporadic, some scout planes and LuftWulf Airships."

Bradley clears his throat and you feature in his direction.
"Speak up Bradley, you're my second in command so you'll have to act like it."

Bradley nods at the recognition and steps forward.
"Sir, my men have already examined the supplies we were sent. We dont seem to have been issued any anti armor weaponry. Without those capabilities, we'll be next to useless against any enemy armor."

Santiago smirks and seems to have something to say but bites his cheek as you regard Bradleys remark.

>We'll have to make do Lieutenant

>See what weaponry this boat won't miss

>I'll see what I can do about that

>Other (write in)
>>
>>3070154
>See what weaponry this boat won't miss
>>
>>3070154
>I'll see what I can do about that.
>>
>>3070154

>See what weaponry this boat won't miss

Getting creative are we? We could attach something to a mech or have the infantry carry it and deploy it as a semi-static defense...
>>
>Scavenging time
>Roll me 1d100 to see if you can find some anti-armor weaponry the crew wont miss. Bo3
>Bonus if you specify what you are looking for
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>3070229

Searching for heavy anti shipping rockets or boarding harpoons.
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>3070229
>>
Rolled 96 (1d100)

>>3070229
>>
Rolled 73 (1d100)

>>3070229
>>
>>3070235
>>3070257
>Scavenging intensifies.
>96! Excellent success!
>Rifleman Platoon has been upgraded with Anti-Armor rockets for each squad!

You scowl for a moment, rubbing your chin, stubble rasping against your thumb before you nod, waving a hand indifferently.
"Im not telling you to Bradley but if you or your men happen to find anything that the crew wont notice is missing? I'll pretend I don't know anything about it. But I would suggest that some of those things you may be looking for could be found in the C deck armory. It looked relatively unguarded last time i was in that area."

Bradley and Santiago share a look before they both salute, Firth trying not to laugh as Bradley turns towards some of his men.
"Collins? Allens? Take some boys to C deck and see what we can borrow"

With nods and laughs, the men grab their compatriots and head off towards a port facing bulkhead, concealing a bolt cutters and prybars behind jackets and down the legs of their fatigues. You try to ignore them just for plausible deniability but honestly, what is the captain going to do? Hes lucky you don't requisition his ship as fire support.

You clap your hands together in a single sharp report and focus again on your officers.
"Back to business. Anybody else have anything? We're four hours out and id like us off this tub before they realize we're landing."

Lieutenant Firth steps forward, nodding respectfully at you as he clears his throat.
"Sir, with our supplies being limited to what the French and our resupply vessel monthly, what are our orders on requisitioning local supplies? Should be some little towns and villages we can pick through, not counting the supply convoys for the German outposts"

>You should focus on enemy supply convoys. Leave the common folk alone.

>If it isnt nailed down, it belongs to us. But if it is nailed down, we have hammers.

>No raiding that I don't order. We need to keep a low profile and act professional.

>Other
>>
>>3070386
>>No raiding that I don't order. We need to keep a low profile and act professional.
>>
>>3070386
>No raiding that I don't order. We need to keep a low profile and act professional.
>>
>>3070386
>Other
"hearts and minds Firth. First we kill the enemy, then we use their uniforms to raid if the locals aren't cooperative. Understood?"
>>
>>3070386
>If it isnt nailed down, it belongs to us. But if it is nailed down, we have hammers.

>Not following our LORD SHERMAN
>>
>>3070386

>If it isnt nailed down, it belongs to us. But if it is nailed down, we have hammers.

But considering we're in North Africa the civillians won't have much. So just loot the folks we kill for now until we push further into the Ottoman's land
>>
>>3070409
Lets do this
>>
>>3070409
Sounds good.
>>
>>3070409

This'll do too
>>
>>3070409
ain't nothing like a good warcrime
>>
>>3070502

I'm a fan of flamethrowers myself, nothing beats that warm feeling from the flames around you. The roar of the flames the only thing in your ears, drowning out the world.
>>
You shake your head at Firths request, fixing the Junior Officer with a steady gaze.
"Second Lieutenant Firth, we are not here to raid and oppress the local populace. Remember, Hearts and minds! We are here to kill the enemy, steal *THEIR* supplies and then if the locals aren't cooperative, we dress as the Germans and *THEN* we loot their villages. Two birds, one stone and all that."

Firth grins and nods to your creative answer as he steps back into the line.
"Sir yes Sir. We'll make sure we dress for the occasion"

Yourself and your officerd all share a chuckle as you finally clap your hands again and address them and the cargo bay at large.
"Alright then, listen up! We're landing in four hours! Get your kit, get your gear, make sure you have it ALL as this boat isnt coming back for another month and I dont want to hear anyone's bitching because they left their favorite sock on board. We hit the ground, we're off and moving, do you hear me!?"

The cargo bay roars with a resounding
"SIR YES SIR!"

You turn on your heel and make your way back to your quarters to prepare your own gear and effects before the airship lands.

>Final step in the creation process, what is your..
>Name:
>Any Unique skills or specialties: optional
>History: optional
>>
>>3070558
Dave Carlsen.
>>
>>3070558
Name: Curtis Powers
Unique: Appropriations
History: Curtis Powers came from a small midwestern town, at least that is what his paperwork would indicate. Though most of his records seem to be a constant source of clerical misfortune often requiring Mr. Powers to correct them periodically. Upon harsh scrutiny there would be many questions as to who he is. As fate would have it, he is always on the periphery of supervision, and always engaged in some far off activity, which is exactly where he prefers to be.
>>
>>3070603
Name: Johnny Garand
Unique: Improvisation
History: Of Canadian descent, Garand may not strike people as first as a diehard patriot however time on the factory floor as an engineer, has changed him. His talent for on the spot reorganization of roles and materiel proved particularly useful to keep on time with schedules and deadlines, always on the look out for a challenge and willing to use every advantage and element at his disposal Garand nevertheless retains an Engineer's mind and willingly chose to fight on a front that needed his skills the most.
>>
>>3070659
Change vote to this.
>>
>>3070603
Backing this. This sounds fun but oh so troublesome.
>>
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>Captain John Garand
>Specialty: Improvised Solutions: Mech and Vehicle Upgrades and Requisitions are 10% cheaper. Salvage/Scavenging nets you +10% resources.

You pen your final notations into your notebook as the landing alert for the airship blares throughout the ship. Feet pound the decks, bulkheads slam open and angry officers shout at their men to corral them to where they need to be as the ships engine reverses lift, pushing the airship down little by little. Already, mooring ropes have been lowered and the ground crew at the small Morroccan town of Er Rachidia are steadily pulling the ropes that, lowering the ship with a final, earth shaking *thud* that nearly knocks you over as you grab your pack, a pair of airmen handling your chest of belongings and equipment. You adjust your cap and set a officers scowl on your face as you set a brisk pace through the halls. Airmen and Marines step from your path as you barge into the cargo bay, your men already formed up and beginning to disembark.

The GI's have unfurled to their full height, standing nearly four meters tall they tower over the infantry, the tan painted metal shell over their pilots decorated with small tokens, kill tallies and lewd drawings. Their 30mm autocannon is racked over their shoulders, the thick, wedge bladed bayonet tucked against the stock. Their articulated hands are busy loading several hundred pound boxes of supplies and ammunition onto the back of several trucks bearing the flag of the exiled French army. A older officer with a greying moustache seems to overseeing the labor while his men seem to hang back, their long barreled rifles slung over their backs.

>find your officers, ignore Frenchy

>Go meet froggy. Find out why his men arent assisting. Insist that they do so. Be rude.

>Go meet the French Officer. He may be under your command but it couldn't hurt to be polite.

>Smoke a cigar and sit in the shade if you can find any.

>Other
>>
>>3070825

>Go meet the French Officer. He may be under your command but it couldn't hurt to be polite
>>
>>3070825
>Go meet froggy. Find out why his men arent assisting. Insist that they do so. Be rude.
>>
>>3070825
>Go meet the French Officer. He may be under your command but it couldn't hurt to be polite.
>Smoke a Cigar anyhow, being polite doesn't mean sapping all the fun out of calm situations.
>>
>>3070825
Find your officers.
>>
>>3070825
>Go meet the French Officer. He may be under your command but it couldn't hurt to be polite.
>>
>Headed to bed guys! Well pick this up tomorrow around 9 central and then I'll be around Tuesday and Wednesday! As always, stay awesome guys!
>>
>>3070825

>Go meet the French Officer. He may be under your command but it couldn't hurt to be polite.

But if he's acting up, smack him in the face
>>
>>3070825
>Go meet the French Officer. He may be under your command but it couldn't hurt to be polite.
>>
>>3068873
Oh shit Cursed is back! Gonna keep this tab open for the next few weeks
>>
>>3070859
Support.
>>
>>3070859
Support

>>3071214
And support, the chain command is changed now. Insubordination from the french will not be tolerated.
>>
>>3070825
>>Go meet the French Officer. He may be under your command but it couldn't hurt to be polite.

bloody timezones i swear to god
>>
>>3070825
>Go meet the French Officer. He may be under your command but it couldn't hurt to be polite.
>Also, smoke a cigar. If he's rude, blow smoke in his face
>>
>>3072201
>>3070859

Supporting this completely
>>
>Sorry about that guys, work drug on late and I didnt get home until after 11. Who all is still here?
>>
>>3073220
Nobody. Oy vey shut it down
>>
>>3073220
I still live
>>
>Greet the French officer politely. Smoke a cigar. Tolerate no guff.

You sigh, shaking your head at the arrogant stance of the French Officer as he watches your men load supplies. His light tan and speckled brown uniform is immaculately clean and free of rips, patches or repairs as you would expect a officer who took part in the fighting retreat from France and ongoing conflict in the Moroccan desert. You pull one of the slim cigars from your breast pocket and gnaw the end open, flicking your thumbnail against a phosphor headed match you touch it to the end and draw, setting the coal deep into the fragrant tobacco. Flavorful smoke drifts upwards as you grip the cigar between your teeth and approach the French Officer. You call out as you approach, tipping your cap with a small salute and a nod.
"Captain John Garand, I assume you're my French support and reinforcements? Good to see you. Glad we've got some friendly faces here"

The Moroccan sun beats down on your cap and shoulders, instantly warming your uniform from warm to uncomfortably hot and you mentally resign yourself to the thought of this desert wasteland being home for the next few months. The greying Frenchman steps forward finally, his bristly moustache twitching as he looks you up and down, his broad billed officers officers cap shaking with an almost imperceptible shake of his head as you stop a few paces from him. He draws himself up into a stiff armed salute and steps forward
"Capitaine Alexandre Desmaraise. Senior Field officer of ze twenty third and sixteenth infantry platoons and ze eleventh light artillery battery. I have taken ze liberty of having your... Men, begin loading supplies so we may be on our way with haste"

His voice is clipped and blunt, the French accent nearly overpowered by the leaden irritation evident in his demeanor as he looks over your GI's and Infantry as they go about loading the trucks. You grind the cigar between your teeth a little as you step forward a bit, the coal seeping smoke as ponder the officers actions.

>How do you respond?
>>
>>3073254
>Laugh internally at “haste”, use it to cheer up because nobody likes a bitchy commander
>Ask for general information on the area and ask about the state of his men, it must be rather poor considering their legs hurt to much to lift
>Make CO small talk (how long have you been leading, last A.O etc)
>Go loft with the lads
>>
>>3073277
Supporting this.
>>
>>3073277
>Ask for general information on the area and ask about the state of his men, it must be rather poor considering their legs hurt to much to lift >Ask for general information on the area and ask about the state of his men, it must be rather poor considering their legs hurt to much to lift >Ask for general information on the area and ask about the state of his men, it must be rather poor considering their legs hurt to much to lift >Ask for general information on the area and ask about the state of his men, it must be rather poor considering their legs hurt to much to lift >Ask for general information on the area and ask about the state of his men, it must be rather poor considering their legs hurt to much to lift >Ask for general information on the area and ask about the state of his men, it must be rather poor considering their legs hurt to much to lift >Ask for general information on the area and ask about the state of his men, it must be rather poor considering their legs hurt to much to lift >Ask for general information on the area and ask about the state of his men, it must be rather poor considering their legs hurt to much to lift
>>
>>3073277
+1

Time to help, maybe we should see if we can use more vehicles for speed up the process.
>>
>>3073254
Glance at the working American troops. "Its good to see we are already at a mutual understatement on interoperability and manpower sharing. I hope to see your men as obedient to my command in the field as mine are to you in the yard." Oh yes. We are gonna get real chummy.
>>
>>3073399
This is good too.
>>
You grind your teeth at the Frenchman's snide tone and feel the cigar pulp a bit more between your teeth as you take it between your fingers and release a cloud of scented smoke.
"I take it you know a bit more about the area than I do at this point. How have your forces been faring?"

Alexander's moustache twitches as he harrumphs quietly and he nods.
"Oui, I would imagine so Capitan Garand. I have been fighting ze Germans and ze Ottoman since our exile from France near twenty years ago. Ze Germans have pushed us hard these last few year's, taking ground at ze Drãa river and taking the towns of Oujda and Figuig. Our lines have held since however and ze Germans advance not one foot farther. On ne passe pas!"
At the final phrase he turns and shouts to his men, the French riflemen repeating at a measured shout.

"ON NE PASSE PAS!"

You resist the urge to shake your head and instead take another draw on the cigar, using it to gesture to the beige uniformed soldiers.
"I was merely remarking as your men seem a little weak and malnourished, exhausted from the hard fighting and hard marching. They're too exhausted to even assist with loading the supplies!"

Alexandre's mouth twists for a moment before he replies in the most polite snarl you've ever heard.
"I thought it best to leave ze simple work to those best suited for it."

Oh this motherfucker.

Two can play at this game.

Instead of using his eye socket to extinguish your cigar instead you smile and nod, your eyes narrowing like a snakes as you puff on the cigar, half turning as you gesture to your busily working men and the columns of idle Frenchmen.
"Its good to see we are already at a mutual understatement on interoperability and manpower sharing. I hope to see your men as obedient to my command in the field as mine are to you in the yard."

It takes all of your self control to resist laughing at the French officers glower as he turns to his men, gesturing them forward with a curt order in French.
"My men are mine alone Capitan Garand. They follow MY orders."

>Nope. Mine. (Show orders from high command)

>Fair enough. (Hold that trump card for now)

>Other (write in)
>>
>>3073633
>Other (write in)

We will see who commands who when the time arises, you don't want internal conflict while the ottoman try to... "passe pas".

Hold that trumph card, he will learn who reinforces who in its due time.
>>
>>3073668
Are you sure ? if this alexander is too stubborn, for example during a battle, we will have problems.


so for how much time we should hold this card ?
>>
>>3073633
Fair enough.
>>
>>3073633
>Fair enough. (Hold that trump card for now)
i would prefer to establish power for sure, but let s see.
>>
>>3073633

"You manners and decorum lack the graciousness of an officer and a gentleman; even for one so galled to ask for aid from another nation as his lies occupied. We, together, as a cohesive unit, will clear all instances of impasse quickly Capitaine. I outrank you. You will follow my orders, my men and your men will respect the chain of command, which puts you above them. There will bean end of wasteful duplication. If you cannot accept high command's order, we can solve this with fists if you need the exercise, otherwise your duty is written here in the black and white. America appreciates your effort to hold the line, but now I am here to push the line forward. Do you understand?"
>>
>>3073633

>Nope. Mine. (Show orders from high command)

Guys i don't quite get it how is it a trump card?
The sooner we can establish chain of command the better.
Like what are you planning to reveal it mid battle?
I dont understand how can we benefit by showing it latter
Am I retarded or somthing?
>>
>>3073713
Going with this as holy shit I love it.

Writing
>>
>>3073736
>>3073713
Supporting, establish this early.
He his not wrong thoses are his mens alone but he is our man now as well.
Immediately pivot to present him the other officers afterwards.
>>
>>3073713
change to this.
>>
Your face hardens and you step forward, looming over the greying French Officer like am angry thunderstorm and lower your voice until it is as cold and flat as a razor.
""You forget yourself Desmarais. Your manners and decorum lack the graciousness and etiquette of an officer and a gentleman; even for one of a nation so galled to beg for our for aid while his homeland lies occupied. We, together, as a cohesive unit, will clear all instances of impasse quickly Capitaine. Unless you forget, I outrank you."
You jab a outstretched finger into the thin officers chest and take no small pride in how he seems to wilt at your steely tirade. Without mercy or pity you plow on.
"You WILL follow my orders, my men and your men WILL respect the chain of command, which puts you above them and myself above YOU. There will be an end of wasteful duplication and needless redundancy. If you cannot accept high command's order, we can solve this with our fists if you need the exercise, otherwise your duty is written here in the black and white. America appreciates your effort to hold the line, but now I am here to push the line forward. Do you understand Capitaine?"

Alexandre works his jaw for a moment, a vein pulsing in his temple as he slowly nods, refusing to meet your gaze.
"Oui... Oui Capitan Garand. I will inform my men as to ze... Appropriate chain of command. With your permission, I will oversee unloading of ze supplies."

You bite down on your cigar and nod, turning to watch as the French infantry assist your own in loading the final few crates, sacks, chests and boxes onto the backs of the six wheeled trucks. Captain Desmarais orders his men about, launching into bursts of irritated French as they labor.

>Desmarais will follow orders without complaint.


>Speak with your officers.

>Oversee the final efforts in the unloading.

>Hop in that jeep and take it easy.

>Other
>>
>>3073777
>Speak with your officers.
>>
>>3073777
>Oversee the final efforts in the unloading.
Make thoses American muscles shine above and beyond the French ones, assert dominance.
>>
>>3073777
Oversee the unloading.
>>
>>3073777
>Oversee the final efforts in the unloading.
>>
>>3073777

>Oversee the final efforts in the unloading.
>>
>Oversee the efforts.

You raise your voice and use your cigar as a conductor would a baton as you stride through the chaos of the unloading process.
"Santiago! Get those crates of 30 mill on that truck on the double! Firth! I need you and your men riding ahead of us. Make sure there's no company on the roads! 70 kicks south- Southwest of Bou Arfa is where we're setting up. Get there and get there fast."

Firth nods and quickly gathers his men about him, each of them pairing up onto one of the bulky, solidly built motorcycles. The passenger planners onto the back seat, facing rearwards and freeing up the lock pins on the 8.7mm light machine guns. The drivers pull cloth bandanas and goggles over their mouths and eyes, kick starting the motors with brassy roars. The ground rumbles as the group of ten motorcycles peel off in a ragged stream.

Bradley and his men seem to be distributing cylindrical rocket launchers between each squad, the men laughing and patting each other on the back as they examine the armor piercing rockets and crates of reloads. You notice that one of the men who went to secure these "gifts" has scuffed and bloody knuckles and a rapidly swelling bruise on his eye.

Perhaps the C deck armory had a guard or two.

Oh well.

With a final heave and a securing rope the last crates are set onto the sagging bed of the final truck and the convoy. Bradley and Santiago form their men up in columns along with the French Rifleman and without further ado, you hop into the passenger seat of the officers jeep and adjust as much as you can.

Its gonna be a long drive....


>Roll me 1d100 to see if Firth and his men encounter any German or Arab-African forces.
>>
Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>3073908
Dice!
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>3073908
>>
Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>3073908
¡¡WAR!!
>>
>>3073928
noice
>>
Rolled 80 (1d100)

>>3073908
>>
>90! Excellent success.

The ride itself goes smoothly, if the dirt roads, rife with potholes, rocks and ruts could be considered smooth. You regard the map attached to your orders and regard the German positions as arrayed on your map. At the town of Bou Arfa, to the North-west of where your FOB will be located, is a ongoing stalemate between French and German forces. The terrain forces the germans to move their armor along the road instead of simply around the town and French artillery support has rendered the road impassable. You make a note of the estimated positions and enemy force strength in the region as the French driver of your jeep seemingly does his best to give you internal bleeding via potholes.

The sun lowers ever further in the sky, the desert shadows lengthening, rocks and hard baked earth casting their shadows across the ground as your convoy moves ever on. The lack of riders returning and smoke on the horizon is good news in your mind as that means Firth and his men faced no opposition. Or they had faced some EXCEEDINGLY good marksmen.

You shrug and gnaw the stub of your cigar, the wrapper nearly disintegrated between your teeth as you look over the areas in the region pre-suggested by intelligence reports.

>The small town of Kharfid. Defensible and centrally located With easy access to roads although exposed to aerial assault.

>An abandoned outpost. Situated in a narrow valley, the outpost is highly defensible and hidden from the air but remotely located.

>The Shierdan Oasis. While a easy source of water and a centralized location, it would be difficult to defend and easy to find.

>Other (write in a suggestion)
>>
>>3074042
>An abandoned outpost. Situated in a narrow valley, the outpost is highly defensible and hidden from the air but remotely located.
>>
>>3074088
>An abandoned outpost. Situated in a narrow valley, the outpost is highly defensible and hidden from the air but remotely located.

Immediately put the men to work plundering the oasis for water, and potentially dates.

Send a detachment to Kharfid to see if the locals have a militia, and any equipment we could use or barter for. Try to feel them out the best we can, perhaps they have needs we can meet.
>>
>>3074042
>An abandoned outpost. Situated in a narrow valley, the outpost is highly defensible and hidden from the air but remotely located.
Best place to keep the advantage of surprise for now.
>>
>>3074042

>An abandoned outpost. Situated in a narrow valley, the outpost is highly defensible and hidden from the air but remotely located.

Also supporting the side things this one's asking for >>3074120
>>
>>3074042
>The Shierdan Oasis. While a easy source of water and a centralized location, it would be difficult to defend and easy to find.
>>
>>3074120
suport.
>>
>>3074042
>An abandoned outpost. Situated in a narrow valley, the outpost is highly defensible and hidden from the air but remotely located.
>>
>Abandoned outpost selected as FOB site.

You pause as you look over the aerial photographs of the prospective location. An abandoned outpost nestled within a valley between two small mountain ranges, its near invisible from the air. Reconnaissance reports indicate that it was used by the French Military during their siezure of the Moroccan and Algerian territories, abandoned during the early days of the great war. It is sizeable enough for your needs and the surrounding area gives you plenty of room to expand if need be.

"Well, it's a fixer upper but it'll have to do"
You grunt to yourself, pulling the radio from its base among the dash of the jeep and toggling to the secure channel.
"Lieutenant Firth? Firth? This is Captain Garand. Do you copy? I repeat, do you copy? Over"

The static filled rasp over the channel persists for a few seconds before it cuts out and a familiar drawl comes over the airwaves.
"Yessir Captain. Firth here. Roads all clear up to the main crossroads 50 kicks south of Bou Arfa. We're pulled off the main road under cover of a old rockslide and waiting on you. Over"

You nod and clear your throat, ruffling the map as you mark out the coordinates of the rally point.
"Took another look at the prospective spots to set up base. Made my decision and we'll lead this wagon train there. Coordinates incoming. Over"

You rattle off the coordinates to the outpost and wait for Firth's confirmation before proceeding.
"Make sure you're not followed but do try to get there before us and get the area scouted out Lieutenant. Over and out."

You switch channels and flick through them for the frequencies used by Santiago, Bradley and Desmaraise, bringing the handset back up to your mouth.
"Desmaraise. Bradley. Santiago. Ive got Firth headed up to clear out any squatters at our prospective home. When we get there, we're gonna have to make sure we get set up quick, fast and in a hurry. Captain Desmaraise, if you could have your men assist in fortifying the perimeter and getting your light artillery set up I would very much appreciate it. Over."

A moment of silence issues before Alexandre answers back with a gruff.
"Oui, certainly Captain. Over"

You shrug and continue stressing your subordinates.
"Bradley, have your men assist him. I'm gonna need you to take a small group of men to the town of Kharfid, see if the locals there could be convinced to provide us either some material or manpower support.

Bradley keys his handset, the audio clicking as the heavy truck lurches over a particularly deep pothole.
"Can do Captain. I'll see if any of these Frenchmen can interpret for us."

You chuckle as you depress the button on the handset.
"Good man. Santiago, I'm gonna need you and your men getting the radio relay, the generators and anything else we're going to need. Your men have the most experience there so I'm counting on you."

"Yes sir. I'll get them started as soon as we get there. Over."

>Cont
>>
>>3074636
>Cont

You open up across all channels on the convoy and announce to the column at large.
"Alright boys listen up. We've got a destination in mind and if you boys want to sleep in cover tonight you'll follow my lead and keep right on our ass. Fall behind and get left behind."

The marching columns and convoy of trucks turns onto a small, worn and weathered path off of the main road towards a crest of ridges on the horizon as the sun sinks slowly towards the horizon. Every man on foot squares his pack and sets his pace to that of the man next to him, slogging forward with the endless slogging determination of those resigned to trudge until told not to. Acrid exhaust and roadway dust drift upwards from the path of the sturdy, six wheeled trucks as their drivers shift and adjust to the uneven terrain, gears grinding and engines complaining as they force mile after mile from the weary machines.

At the mouth of a small, easily unnoticed canyon a ragged band of all-terrain motorcycles pull to a stop, their engines low growl cutting off with a swift finality save for the hissing and ticking of cooling metal as the men dismount, shouldering short barreled carbines or drawing pistols and long bladed combat knives. Lieutenant Firth swings his leg down from the seat of of his bike, his passenger unsocketing the light machine gun and hooking a strap to the stock, supporting the weight of the bulky weapon.

>You are Firth, in command of 19 Raiders, a light scouting unit specializing in hit and run and harassment over prolonged engagements.

>Move up as a group, slow and steady, see if anyone has taken up residence.

>Do a last minute gear check and send a few men forward to scout the canyon.

>Get your men set up into an ambush position and make some noise. See if anyone comes looking.

>Other
>>
>>3074638

Uh if possible a Combo of the last two.

>Last minute gear check from everybody before moving into ambush positions for a few scouts sent forward with cover.
>>
>>3074638
>Move up as a group, slow and steady, see if anyone has taken up residence.
>Remember the basics of CQC
>>
>>3074650
Sounds good.
>>
>>3074650
+1
>>
>>3074695
Going with that.
>>
>>3074695
supported.
>>
>>3074695
I prefer this one. Better get close to anyone that is inside rather than warning them of us. We don't wnat them to man a mounted machinegun if they have one, don't we?
>>
Rolled 46 (1d100)

>Move up as a group, slow and steady.
>Roll me 1d100 for your approach. Bo3. Beat my roll pls.
>>
Rolled 85 (1d100)

>>3074962
>>
Rolled 68 (1d100)

>>3074962
Sand people!
>>
Rolled 44 (1d100)

>>3074962
>>
Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>3074962
>>
>85>46! Great success!

Your men form up in a loose group, crouching low as and sticking to the walls of the canyon as they move up slowly, the men behind covering the advance of those before them before moving up in turn. Soft sand and loose pebbles crunch softly under your boots as you keep your shoulder to the rough stone of the canyon wall. The rapidly sinking sun has cast the interior of the canyon into an early evening, the shadows deep and doing well to conceal your movements to any who may be watching. One of your men, Abramson you think, suddenly crouches down, holding a finger to his lips and points ahead with the barrel of his carbine.

"Movement up ahead Lieutenant."
His whispered voice drifts over to you as you crouch against a jagged boulder and peer over its edge. You hiss to the men behind You to get down as footsteps and rough voices in some native tongue slowly approach. As you watch, a small group of three robed men come into view, talking and chuckling amongst themselves, worn and aged rifles and bandoleers of cartridges slung over their shoulders. Their faces are nearly obscured by the cloth wrapped about their faces, revealing only their eyes and upper bridge of their noses. Long, curved bladed daggers are thrust through their belts, the edges glinting with a razor keenness, the handles wrapped with sweat stained leather. Their robes are tattered and stained, spotted with rust colored dots and splashes along with rough repairs.

Bandits, you think to yourself, makes sense that they would take residence up in a place like this. Isolated and defensible but with access to well used roads.

The Captain did tell you to clear out any squatters...

>Open fire, cut them down and move forward.

>Go quiet, cut their throats and move up.

>see if you can subdue them quietly.

>Other
>>
>>3075167
>see if you can subdue them quietly.
>>
>>3075167
>see if you can subdue them quietly.
>>
>>3075167
Cut their throats and move up.
>>
>>3075167
>see if you can subdue them quietly.
>>
>>3075167
>See if you can subdue them quietly.
By subdue of course I mean >>3075174
>>
Rolled 39, 79, 1 - 10 = 109 (3d100 - 10)

>Nonlethal stealth takedown it is.
>Roll me 3d100 pls. Beat my rolls. Enemy is rolling at a disadvantage as you are concealed and they are unaware of your presence.
>>
>>3075305
Three SEPERATE rolls of 1d100 I mean. My bad.
>>
Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>3075305
Nice dice Cursed.
>>
Rolled 39 (1d100)

>>3075305

COLUMBIA GUIDE MY HAND AND BURN THESE FILTHY GODDAMN OTTOMANS WITH HELLFIRE AND OIL
>>
Rolled 71 (1d100)

>>3075305
>>
Rolled 70 (1d100)

>>3075305
>>
>>3075305
Ya ever just get a negative 9 from a roll?
>>
>>3075434
>"Boss he was dead, I swear! We found him like that!"
>>
>>3075434
Cursed does combat differently, it might be the sum of our total dice vs the sum of his, so 37+39+71, or it might be dice for dice, or some combination thereof.
>>
>37>29. One Desert Bandit subdued.
>39<69. One Desert Bandit Alerted
>71>-9. One Desert Bandit extra-subdued.

You sheath the long bladed combat knife into your belt and flash a quick series of hand gestures at your men. The silent meaning is quickly understood and passed along the group who press themselves behind boulders and into alcoves in the canyon walls as the bandits approach. Every man readies himself, breathing knives and gripping weapons tightly, their goal set in their minds.

Take them alive.

The native men approach, unaware of the impending ambush as they laugh and joke in their coarse tongue, the stench of unwashed cloth and animals wafting from them like the reek of a mass grave, you wrinkle your nose as you count internally, waiting until they just pass your position. Their feet brush aside sand and pebbles, the small stones slithering against the boulder you crouch behind and you grit your teeth, your breath hissing out in a sudden snarling exhalation as you wheel out from behind the boulder. You twist, swinging the butt of your carbine around in a sudden jarring blow that slams the weapon into the bandits kidney, sending the man toppling forward to his knees with a choked grunt. His gasping moan of pain is cut off as your follow up pulps his cheekbone with the butt of your carbine, sending him flopping bonelessly, his fingers spasming for a moment as his compatriots turn in shock, their dark eyes widening as they take in the sight.

At the sight of his companion collapsing to the ground, bludgeoned over the head by a figure that had seemingly stepped from the shadows, one of the bandits loses his nerve entirely. With a strangled cry of terror, he turns to run deeper into the canyon only to catch the butt of a rifle butt to the nose, the thin bones crunching under the blow in a spray of blood. He stumbles backwards from the force of the impact, crimson spreading across the cloth over his mouth. His stumbling feet catch on a protruding stone, pitching him backwards in a flailing tumble that ends with a sick, wet crunch as his skull slams into a stone. His limbs twitch spasmodically, jerking like a crushed insect as the sands around his head quickly stain scarlet.

Abramson lunges out toward the final bandit, the robed man turning to face him quickly, dark eyes narrowed as his hand jerks towards the long bladed dagger at his belt. Abramsons clubbing blow whiffs harmlessly as the bandit ducks, bring his elbow into a brutal blow directly into the Raiders ribs, all the air rushing out in a gasp as Abramson collapses to his knees. The bandit jerks the dagger free, raising it to plunge into the junction of Abramsons shoulder and neck.

>You have a moment to act.

>Shoot him. Raise the alarm, save Abramson, easy DC.

>Rush him and bury a knife in his heart. Keep stealth, Save Abramson. Medium DC.

>Rush him, subdue and disarm him. Save Abramson and capture him alive while keeping stealth. Hard DC.

>Other
>>
>>3075570
>Rush him and bury a knife in his heart. Keep stealth, Save Abramson. Medium DC.
>>
>>3075570
>Rush him and bury a knife in his heart. Keep stealth, Save Abramson. Medium DC.
>>
>>3075570
>>Rush him and bury a knife in his heart. Keep stealth, Save Abramson. Medium DC.
>>
>Rush him and introduce him to the joys of being stabbed.
>Roll me 3d100. DC60
>>
Rolled 79, 55, 12 = 146 (3d100)

>>3075604
Oof. Medium is 60
>>
Rolled 48, 99, 73 = 220 (3d100)

>>3075604
>>
Rolled 16, 78, 15 = 109 (3d100)

>>3075604
>>
Rolled 100, 92, 7 = 199 (3d100)

>>3075604

Self-defense, honest
>>
>>3075723
Fucking rip nat 100
>>
Rolled 83, 47, 86 = 216 (3d100)

>>3075604
>>
>>3075604
You ded cursed?
>>
>>3068873
update tomorrow around CST noon. BE THERE OR BE SQUARE.
>>
>New bread!
>Sorry about the disappearance, work came up unexpectedly and ive been swamped.
>>3084306



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