The Ballad of Echo Company - Episode 1B - The Best Laid Plans

[MrAbdiel]

It’s a rough landing, bouncing you off the branches and trunks of the treecover as you tumble to the ground; but as you gather your senses, you wonder if these trees are the only thing that kept you from being blown back over the cliff. You’re well back from your drop zone - the loud blasts of the Kreigvolk naval defenses beyond the trees tells you that. But aside from that, you can barely comprehend anything about your position at all. It’s dark, and you’re alone, and you struggle to control your breathing so you can reach out with your hearing to try to detect other skyknives who dropped near you. First objective after a drop is to regroup with Echo company, and sift into your platoon to become combat efficacious again.

You either land 1. Awkwardly in a tree, 2. Painfully falling down a tree bashing off its branches, or 3. Miraculously between the branches, on the soft forest floor just as your ring gives out. Roll a d3 to determine, or choose which seems most interesting to you. As you land you can hear other landings of various levels of elegance happening in the woods, but you’re aware that the Kreigvolk are all through the area, so no matter how you land, you’re trained to try to minimize noise profile and visual profile as soon as possible on landing. If you’re small, that might involve hiding in a hollow tree or some other ligneous hidey-hole. If you’re larger, your options might be limited to lying still in a ditch and covering yourself with leaves for a minute or two before you’re confident you’re not about to be captured. Whatever you choose, after a minute’s hiding, you’re convinced you have at least momentary safety. Enough to contemplate your next move.


That would have been much easier in the open, unguarded field you intended to drop on with the moonlight to make reaquaintance with one another possible. Here, in this dark wooded area whose canopy swallows the stars, you can barely see your hand in front of your face. If you pull back out of the trees toward the Aquiteaux inland, you’ll be immediately exposed to the roads on which the enemy will be presently shuttling reinforcements back and forth - not ideal, when you’re on your lonesome. If you surge forward toward the beach, it’s only a matter of time before you emerge to the rear of the massive Defiant Wall - a legendary construction of over one and a half thousand miles of concrete trenches, bunkers, munitions supplies and naval defense cannons, presently shielded frontally by some number of specialized magi hidden in the grey maze of Vult troopers and defensive positions. It was this highly defensible superstructure, so unappetizing to attack, that prompted the initial plan to attack the acolytes that Allied Intel had assured your commanders were situated further inland behind the cliff walls, safe from lucky bombing runs but still able to feed their mana remotely to the Kreigshielders. But with that possibility apparently nixed by the Vult druids souring your deployment, it’s hard to imagine any way to accomplish anything helpful to the cause at all that doesn’t involve attacking the concrete sprawl on top of the cliffs. That, atleast, would ease up some of the hellish plunging fire that is being pounded down upon the poor schmucks in the amphibious infantry landing.

That has to wait, though. You need to find your platoon, who must be scattered here in the forest with you. You could holler out, but that runs the awful risk of alerting any Kreigvolk forces that might be lingering close to the woods - or gods forbid, stalking in it looking for you. Alternatively, you could sneak through the woods and try to find someone - that’s what the Friend-Foe identifier is for, after all. But maybe the situation is too furchtbar (as the Kreigvolk might say) to afford those subtle measures.

Your immediate objective is to regroup with your company, and platoon. Your training is to try to stealthilly find each other in the dark and use your Friend-Foe identifier to make a split second judgement about whether or not to fire on a shape in the gloom. But now you’re alone and surrounded in hostile territory, so maybe you have some alternate idea.

If you want to shout, everyone in the scene will hear you. All the PCs in this thread, plus any NPCs hostile or otherwise you don’t know about. You’re welcome to do so!

If you want to try the old sneak-and-spot, give me a Stealth roll and a Perception roll with your post. If you have dark vision or some relevant acute senses, you can have advantage on the perception roll.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral manages to weave through the trees, landing softly on the forest floor. He decides to climb up into a nearby tree, hiding among the leaves while looking around for anyone who may have landed near him, or any Vult troopers that may be searching for them

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger crashes through some smaller branches before, slamming into the trunk of a large oak tree.
With the wind knocked out of him he slides down into the crevices of the roots. No one is else is with him, but that's ok, we trained for this. He checks his equipment briefly, and is pleased that it seems none the worse for wear. He wishes he could say the same about himself. He puts his mind to the task, and starts looking for his squad. When he detects someone, he sends them a message spell requesting designation.


If its bad luck and its a Vult, he will attempt to sneak away since ideally he has not given up his position.
Otherwise he will make his way over, and add them to his temporary squad. (Unless he finds a commander at which point he will join their squad for now)

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc's twirling flight is suddenly arrested and for a second or two he feels like ogre bouncer is shaking him by the lapels. A cracked eye reveals that his jump cable hooked on a tree branch.

As the bouncing calms down he spies another branch not too far from where he's hanging. He'd never tried trapeze but it could be too hard for a former varsity gymnast like him! Swing, swing grab, pull to unsnag his line, free, easy! He kicks his legs forwards and back to get going.

SWING, SWING, GRAB...PULL...SNAP, CRASH!!

Crappola! He curses to himself as the branch that had snagged him gives way and slams to the forest floor. His line came free and he kept his grip on the new one at least, but he's still hanging right out in the open. Maybe someone in Reichsgarten didn't hear that crash? Still, at least he had a good view from up here!

[Continental Op]

Wolf, still shaking and feeling weak, cursed when the wind came up pushing him into the trees. "Oof" he let out, when a branch hit him right under his diaphragm and knocked the air out of him. Joke's on you, I have nothing left in my stomach anyway he sourly thought to himself. But that did leave him about 20 feet up a tree, clinging for dear life when the feather fall gave out.

Wolf scoots and shimmies over to the trunk, and takes a moment to rest and make sure he wasn't spotted by the Volt. He also checks that he still had all of his gear. He then carefully climbs down the tree, trying to keep quiet and watch for friendlies (or enemies).

Once on the ground, Wolf decides to work his way through the trees, quietly trying to find any teammates in the area. Wolf is ready to whisper "sulfur" if he sees anyone, gripping his M1 Thompson tightly.

[MrAbdiel]

Well, this would have been more fun for me if you hadn't all smashed your perception checks and had to be flipping a coin whether to shoot into a shadow or not BUT WHATEVER I DON'T CARE

Wolf: You gather yourself and stalk through the trees, trying to keep your eyes open and your profile low. The buildup of detritus on the forest floor is dry and loud, and despite your best efforts, you're still disoriented enough from the fall that a particular crunchy twig makes you cringe as you stumble over it. It's an error you wouldn't have made, if you hadn't just fallen out of a plane and ridden a hurricane into a tree; but it stings to have made it at all. You hear a hiss from your near right, within an ivy-choked nook between two trees... and you think you see the gleam of a gunbarrel pointing out of it, straight at you.

You think you're dead for a second, but you see the black scales around the reptile eye sighting up along that barrel, and your mind whirls into motion. That's probably Private Ssassten Monroe from 1st squad, the one who had a bullet pass by his feet while you were still in the aircraft. And knowing that, your retroactive memory reframes the hiss you heard into a heavily sibilantized "ssssulfur"; the best the lizardman can do with a forked tongue and his particular arrangement of breathing organs.

Doc: You brachiate to the best of your capacity, given your unpleasantly tethered state; and few people could have done better. But there's no accounting for some variables, and the branch cracks and drops loudly to the forest floor. You minimize yourself against the trunk and wait for a half minute in deathly silence. Then your ears pick up the faintest click that doesn't sound to you like organic matter cracking. More like the safety on a rifle being clicked off as quietly as someone might manage...

Your eyes pick out the shape of private Jason Catchell from first squad, on the ground below, two trees away and leaning out to aim his weapon up at you. Shrapnel from the bursting plane has lacerated his forehead, and he's bleeding into both his eyes; blinking and squinting furiously through it as he tries to pick your shape out of the gloom. His hands are shaking badly, and he's clearly scared out of his mind; but he's close enough now that if he snaps off a shot, he's got a real good chance of putting a hole in you that is surplus to requirements.

Gabriel: You spend a minute in cover trying to remember how your lungs work, and to do it quietly enough that you're not drawing attention to yourself. Once you've got that under control and your body is passed the shock of impact, passing well into the throbbing pain all through your body, you make your move, stalking through the brush and looking for allies - or foes. You find one - though to which catagory, you can't tell at your distance. You take out the small strand of copper wire from one pocket, and propel the word 'sulfur' into its mind. The figure startles and whirls, eyes tracking around trying to find the initiator of the communion. But then, in a moment of foul luck that has characterized this mission all the way so far, one of the wild tracking glances from the shape in the dark seems to find you, and they freeze.

The failure to reply with the correct response warned you, and when the trooper spots you face on, that's enough to confirm your suspicion - this is a Vult pathfinder, the first Vult soldier you've seen up close, if you don't count the dragon. He's sixty feet away from you, human, and nearing his thirties if not just into them. He wears a uniform of splotchy grey camoflage that isn't well suited to this environment. You would have liked to have let him pass by or stalked him from hiding, but he's made you for sure. He is, however, surprised; and so you have a few seconds to decide how to engage or escape before he musters the presence of mind to aim and fire.

K'ral:Your landing is relatively forgiving, and you hunker down for a moment before picking a tree with enough leafage to cover you somewhat but not so much you'll be rustling up a storm as you ascend. A few branches up you have a better view of the area around you. You think you can see someone else in a tree due north of you, about thirty yards away; and you watch the tail end of an almost elegant swinging through the trees that results in a branch breaking and dropping to the forest floor. The small shape clings to the tree, and goes still after that. Watching this is almost enough to distract you entirely from the sound of leaves rustling near the base of your own tree...

You're pretty sure the form in the other tree is a halfling - maybe Doc Helmholtz, or Hector Longfoot - unless it's a Vult halfling. But why would they be stuck in a tree and scrambling like that? No; probably one of yours. But at the base of your own tree, peering up at you, is a huge war hound sniffing in your direction. It has a handsome black and brown coloration, with a long wolfish head and tall, almost jackal-like ears; but unmistakable to your eyes is the Vult fourfold lightning bolt dyed into its fur with some groomer's cantrip. It's quiet as death, and sees you for sure, but it's definitely trying to get a sniff of you; perhaps to confirm if you smell like the enemy it's trained to hunt. For the present moment, the wind is in your favor; but you can't count on that for long.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral pulls one of the rations of his pack and opens it slightly before tossing it into the trees somewhat north of him, hoping to distract the wolf with the sound and the smell. He then attempts to leap to another tree in the opposite direction, towards the halfling he spotted.
Acrobatics:[roll0]
Let me know if I need to make any other rolls

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc starts slightly at the sight of the barrell pointing at him. Unable to raise his hand in his precarious position he resorts to frantic whispers.

Hey! Sulphur, sulphur okay?! Catchall you schmuck, its Doc. I'm coming down, let's get you patched up, Alright?

Doc lowers himself down as quickly as possible, hopefully making it to the injured private without being perforated. Dragging his pack off his rapidly bandages Jason's forehead, and flicking some cocain drops into his eyes, hoping to arrest the bleeding.

Acrobatics if necessary [roll0]

Bonus action healer's kit, healing [roll1] plus Jason's HD hp.

[Continental Op]

Wolf whispers back "Guano." Then he lets out a slow breath, trying to release some of his tension, and asks in a low tone, "Is that you, Monroe?"

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger

Locusts
There is a loud retort as his firearm discharges and he ducks behind a bush for cover.

Att: [roll0]
Dmg: [roll1]

(If the surprise grants him advantage)
[roll2]
Sneak attack: [roll3]

[MrAbdiel]

K'ral: The dog's head tracks the salted jerky as it sails through the air. To your surprise, instead of chasing it, it vanishes in a snap of rapidly fading blue vapor, and reappears over near the treat with an almost perfectly simultaneous puff of the same. It ferrets about in the leaves for a moment, before blinking back to where it was a moment ago; but by that instant, you've already changed trees, towards where the silhouette of the halfling is sliding down toward the ground in a flurry of indistinct, frantic whispers. The blink-beast tries to track you, a questioning whine in its throat; but then a shot rings out in the forest, maybe a hundred and fifty feet in the direction you're moving; and the sound competes for the dog's attention.

The dog's going to roll perception to track your acrobatic escape. He gets advantage because he has keen senses, but disadvantage from the distracting gunshot; so he's looking to match or beat your acrobatics roll of 12 to keep clocked on you. [roll0]

Doc: "W- oh, gods, oh, gods - uh... S-sulphur. Gauno. Dammit, dammit..." He whisper-yells in an embarrassed panic, almost dropping the rifle in his haste to get its sights off you. He leans back against a tree, breath steadying slowly as the nearness of what awful thing might have transpired washes over him, pooling in his sea of anxiety and mortal worry. "Gods, I almost... Sorry, I can't see. I can't..." He babbles apologetically as you clean his face of blood, and once he can see again he calms considerably. You consider quick-sealing the wound with flashpowder, but since it's not too bad and you're not in an active firefight, you can afford to try your luck with the ol' gauze and cotton basics. It seems to hold the bleeding at bay, and Catchell is greatly relieved. He's almost completely human, with a slight pointing to his ears that suggests maybe an eighth or sixteenth of elf in there somewhere. With the luck in the air to have avoided what was almost a friendly fatality of the squad medic, it might well be halfling ancenstry. "Thanks, Doc. Something hit me in the head in the air. I thought I had shrapnel in the eyes. Too scared to touch them. Do you think -"

Then a shot rings out - the M1 snap you're familiar with - no more than a hundred feet to your left. And then another shot, right after - this one the tinnier pop of a Kriegvolk rifle. Someone has made contact.

Wolf: "Ssssorry, yesss. Can't sssee for sssspit." The blackscaled soldier in his olive drab drop-trooper uniform emerges so you can see him better; flecked with shrapnel fleshwounds, but nothing that's still bleeding. "It'ssss all ballssssup, Wolf. Godsssdammit." His weird, ochre snake eyes blink with an iral contraction of the circular membranes he has serving the function of eyelids. "There'ssss some kind of mutt patrolling. Probably a handler too. I'll ssstick with you, corporal." He seems to intend to, pivoting to be mostly back to back while you speak, keep eyes spread around. Then a snap, and a pop, of allied and enemy gunfire about a hundred feet to your right tells you that someone, probably from Echo Company, is engaging the enemy.

Gabriel: Your muscles are competing for priority, and your feet are already pivoting for you to leap to cover when the shot exits the barrel of your rifle. You hear the metallic snik as the bullet grooves the side of the pathfinder's helmet, breaking the chin strap with the torque as it turns ninety degrees on his head. For an instant he is stunned by the nearness of death, then fumbles to straighten his helmet and then track you with his sights, snapping off a shot in reply. Perhaps the close brush with the reaper has rattled him, but his feet seem to have forgotten to move at all. He stands there, exposed, in a singular paroxysm of purpose - to shoot you, before you shoot him.

10's not gonna hit, I'm afraid. Rough opening shot, with advantage too! He shoots back, with you having a +2 cover AC bonus from the bush you dived into: [roll1], for a potential [roll2] damage.

We're sort of sliding into combat time here, so we're formally moving to initiative - though abstract enough that it's all you guys go and then all the bad guys go. It's your turns!

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral raises his rifle, aims a shot at the Vult hound’s head, and fires
Bonus Action: Steady Aim for advantage
Action: Attacking the hound, Sharpshooter for -5 to hit +10 damage
Attack: [roll0], [roll1], [roll2] taking the best of the 3
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc pats Jason gently on the arm.

Hey, no harm done. This whole thing is pretty horrendous but you're not doing any worse than the rest of us.

He sighs audibly at the gun shots.

Come on, some wise guys are making more work for me to do. Let's be quick and stay low.

Thaddeus dashes towards the sounds of fighting, moving a total of 50' a round.

Edit: I forgot that I can double dash as a rogue, total move 75 feet.

[Continental Op]

Wolf spits, trying to ease his queasiness. Wolf sighs and responds to Ssassten, "Guano is the right word for this."

Then hearing the nearby gunfire, he curses. "Damn, we need to find more men. Stay with me." Wolf then starts moving quietly towards the sound of gunfire, also trying to watch for any other movement in the area.

Okay, as near as I can figure it the rules for sneaking (as opposed to hiding) are not completely clear, but we can make a standard move while sneaking? So the stealth check is basically our action, instead of double moving with a dash? Also, I really thought about either shouting to try to rally more soldiers together, or charging at the gunfire. But since Wolf is still poisoned and frightened, this seemed more accurate, even if not completely in character. Finally, in case you need new checks:
Stealth: [roll0]
Stealth (disadv): [roll1]
Perception: [roll2]
Perception (disadv): [roll3]

[MrAbdiel]

K'ral: A shot rings out as K'ral takes his shot. The hound has got his scent and is just curling back its lips to reveal a mouthful of white fangs and the beginning growl of a coming bark of challenge. Then the rifle snaps, the bullet takes flight, and without so much as a pained howl of protest, the beast dies; sagging limply to the ground with an oozing dot in the top of its skull where the perfect killshot has been made. One less soldier of the enemy, canine though it may be. Then another shot rings out over the way - another shot from what sounds like a Kriegvolk rifle. One allied shot, then two enemy shots - a bad sequence, and one that offers a dreadful scene for the imagination.

Doc, Wolf, and Gabriel: Gabriel feels the bullet whizz by his shoulder, and scrambles to flatten himself behind a tree, not trusting the Kreiger to make the same miss again.

The soldier, still trembling, fires again into the bush and sees chips come off the tree; but the release of the second round snaps the cable of his hypnotic daze and with a gut-deep yell that sounds like the exorcism of his own fear more than hatred for the enemy, he drops his rifle, and draws a long knife as he launches himself bodily into the scrub after Gabriel. He's just coming to grips with him as Wolf leading Monroe, and Doc leading Catchell, rush close enough to see Gabriel tussling with the knife-wielding Kreiger.

Gabriel defaults to the Dodge action.
The Kreig pathfinder takes a shot, then drops his rifle, draws a knife, and moves into melee range with Gabriel whether he's hit or not!

[roll0], and [roll1], for [roll2].

K'ral shoots a dog, possibly incurring the wrath of Johann Vick.
Doc gets to within 25ft of the scuffle with Catchell in tow, and Wulf hustles in with Monroe to 50ft trying to be stealthy; but the urgency of the movement compromises the sneak. Gabriel and the Kreiger are wrapped up in melee now, but everyone arriving on the scene is aware of each other, and since you all nailed your earlier perception checks, you can see each other clear enough to know you're all allies, if not individual faces in the gloom.
Your turns!

Edit: Hey, I guess that's first blood from the Kreiger. First human blood anyway. 4 damage as the bullet clips the tree and throws deep and painful splinters into you, Gabriel!

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral starts quickly moving toward the trees to the gunshots he heard in the distance
Dashing towards the battle
Acrobatics if needed: [roll0]

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc rushes up to the two combatants, his old wrestling reflexes taking over. He rolls between the Kreiger's legs, pops up and twists his wrist to smartly to claim his weapon.

Hey jackass, your mutter never tell you not to run with knives? Stand down, halt!

Athletics [roll0] if disarming isn't an option he will grapple and pull the Krieger 10 feet away from Gabriel[

Roll to be understood saying stop [roll1] plus whatever stat (0 if Persuasion)

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Feels something bite his arm as hes in cover, causing him to drop his rifle. Ow
Seeing the Krieg approach, having limited options, he draws his own daggers, using one to parry, and the other to attack the krieg's wielding arm.


Att: [roll0]
Dmg: [roll1]

[MrAbdiel]

K'ral makes a few well gaged leaps from tree branch to three branch until he's looking down on the combat unfolding fifty feet ahead, and below, from his vantage point. Fortunately, he sees no additional enemy forces; just Wolf and Monroe closing to join the scuffle.

Doc launches into the combat with his nimble manoeuvre, seizes on the Kreiger's knife wrist just as it was thrusting forth towards his platoonmate, and twists.

We'll use the optional Disarm rules in the DMG, page 271. The core of it is it's an attack roll (which I'm going to say, like a shove, can be substituted for any single roll in an attack action henceforth) opposed by the target's Athletics or Acrobatics. We'll take that roll Doc made (shaving it down to 21, because Doc's attack is +7 rather than his athletics of +8). The Kreiger will oppose with his Athletics of +5. If he was wielding his bayonet mounted on his rifle, he'd have advantage because he was holding the item in two hands. But he DOES get advantage because Doc is a little'un, one size smaller.

[roll0]
or [roll1]

...But the white-knuckled grip of the Kreigvolk pathfinder, now fighting for his life against two enemies, does not relent! Nor does he seem responsible to the demand made for him to halt or stand down. His willingness to fight for his cause, it seems, is strong enough to survive first contact with the enemy; more than can be said of many soldiers, through time.

In the same instant, Gabriel is drawing his blades to defend himself, and lands a wicked blow that slices down the soldier's arm from shoulder to elbow!

7 damage to start, but he also crit, so another [roll2]. Wolf still to act!

[Continental Op]

Wolf moves closer, not bothering to be sneaky now. He wants to shoot the Krieger, but is worried about hitting his compatriots and further giving their position away. He says to the others (loudly, but not shouting) "Doc, we can't take prisoners yet! Gabriel, go for the throat!"

Wolf moves 30' closer and takes the attack action, but forgoes his attack, and instead uses his Commander's Strike maneuver and a bonus action to direct Gabriel to attack. Hopefully since Doc is engaged this counts as a sneak attack for Gabriel, but either way he gets a +1d8 to his attack.

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Does not hesitate in the moment, he slashes upward and outward with the second blade going for the neck.

Att: [roll0]
Dmg: [roll1][roll2]

[MrAbdiel]

Wolf's encouragement is lived out in Gabriel's strike, but the Kreiger is flailing now; and reeling away from the knives, he incidentally puts Doc, clinging to him and trying to disarm him, in between himself and what might be a killing blow, forcing Gabriel to turn it aside. Monroe catches up to Wolf and then bursts into the combat area, trying to line up a shot from his rifle without endangering any of his comrades. Catchell is a little caught between Doc's restrained response and Wolf's vocalised pragmatic one; but he errs on the side of safety to his companions, lending his hands to Doc's aid in the grapple.

Now it's one Kreiger pathfinder, and not a particularly skilled one, it seems, being pounced on by five invading soldiers; and his chances of making it out on top go from low, to vanishingly small. He begins screaming bloody murder in his home tongue; at first a braying alert, and then calling out for someone.

"Alarm! Alarm! Amcarans are here! Amcarans are here! AhhhHHHHhhh! Alger! ALGER, COME! ALGER, COME!"

In a moment of desperate dexterity, he drops the knife from his restrained and slashed arm into his free hand, and then makes a wild slash at Doc, whose wiry little body is an anchor to him in this dire circumstance.

Monroe double moves, Catchell moves in and uses the Aid Another action on Doc, usable either for another disarm effort, a direct attack, or something similar. The Kreiger desperately attacks Doc! [roll0], for [roll1] piercing damage.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral fires a shot at the Kreiger, aiming carefully to avoid hitting either of his allies attempting to grapple them.
Steady Aim and attack the Kreiger with Sharpshooter
Hit: [roll0], [roll1], [roll2] taking the best of 3
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[MrAbdiel]

A bullet zips through the air, catching the soldier in the left temple and passing to exit through the right, along with an almost gentle spurt of brain fluid and pulped grey matter. He falls silent, and goes slack in the grip of the grapplers; bayonet tumbling to the ground.

Dead! And you’re out of combat, just like that.

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Thanks. Lets move before more Kreigs show up.

[Waistcoatwill]

Pvt Thaddeus 'Doc' Helmholtz

As the Krieger's body goes limp Doc is nearly pinned beneath it, leverage doesn't work so well on a dead weight. Fortunately Catchell is there to help him lay the body down with some semblance of dignity.

Hey, Wolf! I swore a damn oath and if I can avoid killing any schmuck I'm gonna try it, okay?! Here chew on this, you ain't looking too good, ya lummox. Ginger, you're bleeding, hold still and let me see.

Doc cuts off a slice of some kind of spicy root, seemingly imbued with charcoal, to Wolf and starts pulling splinters out of Gabriel.

Action - lesser restoration to cure Wolf's poison.
Bonus action - med kit on Gabriel [roll0]

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral climbs down the tree and heads toward the group.

”Good to see some friendly faces, is this everyone we’ve got?”

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
To Doc:
Thats much better

To K'ral:
Not sure.

[Waistcoatwill]

Pvt Thaddeus 'Doc' Helmholtz

Doc looks around counting off members of his squad.

Anybody seen Sal?...Damn...good luck midtown...

Ugh, whilst we wait for orders I'd better make myself useful. Anyone with shrapnel still stuck in their tusch come over here.

We might not be in combat time, but Doc can med kit two folk a turn for 1d6+9 hp. Hopefully getting that done before Alger shows up (unless that was the dog?).

Pre-emptively rolling, will retcon if not required:
Wolf [roll0]
Monroe [roll1]
Doc [roll2]

[Continental Op]

Wolf gingerly takes the offering from Doc, still not trusting his stomach. But he takes a bite and is surprised when he starts feeling better. He quickly eats the rest, and nods to Doc. He adds a "Thanks" when Doc gets out his kit and patches him up.

While Doc is dealing with the rest, Wolf looks around. "I guess this is all we got. And you are right Gabe, we need to move, but where?" He sighs and turns to the concrete bunker.

"Who's up for taking that thing out?"

Rolling to get rid of fear effect: [roll0]

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger raises his hand in affirmation.

With his other arm he pulls out his weasel class explosives.

Get me close enough and I will crack it open.

[MrAbdiel]

You search your immediate surroundings for more allies or enemies, but find none - this small understrength squad appears to be all you can depend on, for now. You take a moment to catch your breath, receive Doc's deft medical attention, and then begin slinking toward the nearest enemy structure - the rear of the Defiant Wall, and the bunker mounted on this protruding fold of the cliff.

Your squad hunkers in the brush at the treeline about a hundred and fifty feet from the trench running along the clifftop connecting the bunkers, and other concrete siegeworks. You can't hear it, but you know that bunker must have some high powered, rail mounted machine guns sufficient to hose down the cliff in devastating plunging fire at the troops below. Curiously, there are surprisingly few enemy soldiers running back and forth in those trenches - you see a pair hustling north just now, but there are plenty of moments where you could make a run for it to cross the distance and be at the trenchline, probably, before you were noticed, so long as no one made some boneheaded stumble and drew attention to themselves.

The bunker nearest to you is huge, and built to be resistant to massive naval shells and aerial bombardment - but a well placed Weasel will open the door, since you can't make -those- from reinforced concrete. Additionally, about fifty feet south of that bunker is the next feature of the Defiant Wall - a walled, open platform featuring the pounding rhythm of a quad-array anti-aircraft turret. Its upper and lower barrels flash and pump in a rapid two-by-two sequence, throwing their high velocity flak munitions into the sky against the huge assembly of allied aircraft. Two soldiers are operating the gun, while four stand about in loose defence of it - though their attention is mostly on the air, tracking the progress of their charge. Even as you watch, the turret claims a kill on an Albinonese Tempest fighter plane, having dipped low to strafe ground forces only to receive close fire and blooming into orange flame, losing a wing and spiraling to explode on the beach below. The Kreigvolk cheer, and slap the backs of the gunners in approval.

Near to you, unfortunately, is another discovery you wish you hadn't made. Wolf finds her first - it's Pvt. Marguerite Curry, her red curls splayed around her head like a halo. She seems to have been far enough away from the mid air detonation to have avoided damage entirely, but at a guess, when the wind blew her here, her feet made enough contact with the bough of a tree that the Featherfall spell gave out prematurely, and she plunged some thirty feet spinning, hitting the soft earth with such force that she broke her neck, and shoulder. There's a small trickle of blood at the corner of her lips, and the angle of her neck brooks no fear of a death of slow suffering; but aside from those distortions, and a little dirt on her right cheek where she struck the ground, she looks almost peaceful, if quietly surprised in her repose. There will be no dancing for the half-elf, after all.

[Waistcoatwill]

Damn...someone give me a hand.

Doc clenches his fists in anger for a few seconds then gently closes her eyes. With help, he moves her body further out of sight and breaks off a dog tag to give to the sarge.

As much as I hate how smug those AA bastards are, I reckon that bunker is dishing out worse hurt on our pals on the beach. What do you think?

[Continental Op]

Wolf shakes his head and helps Doc move Maggy.

At Doc's question, Wolf looks at where they came from, and responds, "You think some of our unit got blown that far? I guess that makes sense. He gets out the binoculars, to see if there is anything else between them and the bunker. He also looks to see if the four guarding the anti-air gun could theoretically see the bunker door from their position.

"I agree we should take out the machine guns in that bunker. But do you think those soldiers would hear us blowing open the door?"

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Not with the AA running. Lets crack that bunker open.

[PartyOfRogues]

”I can cover you from up in the trees back here, and if you make a distraction, I could start taking out the AA gunners.”

[Waistcoatwill]

Right, I can try to jimmy the lock like my old man's liquor cabinet if you guys cover me against that lot?

He gestures towards the AA gun.

If it ain't a goer I'll try the bomb. We can try to sneak in and spike the machine gun before they know what's happening.


He hunkers down and does his best cross country impression towards the bunker. At the door, he pulls out a stethoscope to listen to the mechanism and tiny surgical picks and retractors, then sets to at the lock.

He can cover 75 feat a round with a double dash. If troop movements are more frequent than that he'll do dash action and hide as a bonus, working his way to the door cover to cover

Hide [roll0] humbug, should only have been +4, 13 total.

Thieves' tools [roll1]

[Continental Op]

Wolf watches Doc sprint to the door with a small smile. "Huh, and the lieutenant called me impulsive."

He gets his M1 ready and watches the trenches for any movement in Doc's way. "If the crap hits the fan and Doc gets into trouble, I'll try to make it to him."

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger escorts.
I'm not an officer, if the doctor wants to try his hand at the lock, might as well let him.

Stealth: [roll0]

[MrAbdiel]

Click.

Under Doc’s careful ministrations, the lock yields and opens. The door is now unlocked, ready for you to swing inward at your choosing; and as of the moment, the AA gunners nearby have not so much as looked in your patchwork squad’s direction.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral takes position up in the trees and watches for signs of movement from the AA crew and any soldiers moving through the trenches

Perception if needed: [roll0]

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc suddenly realises that he should have concentrated when being taught the company's non-verbal communication methods, or at least not been so hungover. Frantically he gives a thumbs up towards his comrades and waves them towards him.

If no-one in his team seems to respond, he risks flashing his torch towards them in a dot dot, dash dot pattern to say 'IN'.

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger motions for Doc to stop.
Ive got this
(Message cantrip)
Door is prepared, get over here.

[Continental Op]

Wolf starts a little at Gabe's message, then smiles. "I've got to start getting used to all this," he says under his breath. He turns to the others with him, "Right, let's head over there quickly and quietly. Everyone stay with me, and we'll get this done." Wolf then starts for the bunker, staying low and (hopefully) quiet.

Stealth roll: [roll0]

[MrAbdiel]

The patchwork squad slinks across the open ground and into the obscurity of the trench, while the AT gun blazes away at its targets and its attendant soldiers are transfixed in their task of reloading the deadly machine.

With no one really beefing their stealth rolls at all and Doc popping the lock in one slick turn of effort, your attempt to breach the bunker quietly enough not to be noticed and quickly enough not to get stumbled on by enemy soldiers seems to have worked out!

The bunker door is finely machined and maintained; it swings in on its hinges quietly, revealing several things. First, the bar the door should be secured by to prevent just this kind of invasion is negligently left leaning against the concrete doorframe, where its defensive applications are significantly limited. The interior of the bunker is quite roomy, for a defensive installation; with a sealed hatch in the floor of one corner, crates of ammunition and supply stacked on the left, a small card table and chairs with a half-played game of Dragon-Bluff on the right. There are four soldiers in the room - two humans, an orc and a dwarf - along with another huge blink dog. Incredibly, this dog is snoozing despite the actual war going on around it, and it seems the soldiers haven't had the heart to wake it. Traditionally, with a bunker, soldiers stay away from the firing aperture to minimize the chances for them to be shot by enemy fire wandering into that vulnerable line. But you hear the scream of heavy shells incoming and then a great bloom of fire and smoke a dozen meters out from the front of the bunker; the Kreigshield doing its job and keeping the bunker safe from incoming fire. The purple membrane manifests, ripples with the impact, and then becomes invisible again.

The human and the dwarf are operating the machine gun smoothly, sliding the pintle back and forth on a rail the length of the aperture, pumping streams of lead and light into the assailants below. The other human and the orc are watching, shouting to each other over the din of the gun.

"Look, see? Someone up the chain has pulled the ripcord for repulsion posture. The trenchers have doored up to the beach. They're supposed to wait until the reserves are woken and moved in."
"Bloody glory-hounds. Can't wait another half hour to get your tokens and souvenirs? Adran, if I'm ever that eager to exchange bullets with the enemies of the Homeland, I want you to punch me in the face."
The orc, apparently 'Adran', laughs gruffly. "It'd be my pleasure. Holy hellfire, the goliath is still there. Just standing there. Kenvald, put some pepper on him - the one near the flag."

The triggerdwarf, apparently 'Kenvald', swivels the machine gun, squints down the iron sights, and begins squeezing off a streamer of high impact rounds toward the beach below.

Presuming you want to engage right away, it's surprise round time. There are five targets in the room - Kenvald and Rutger on the gun, Adran and Garmash providing commentary, and the sleeping (maybe deaf?) Kreighound. Depending on how sneaky you want to be, you have options. The munitions in the room may well go up if you set off a grenade in here; but if you're quick and deadly enough, you might not even need to do that. As long as you're all moving into the bunker this turn, there's no stealth roll required to remain outside. If you don't want to attack yet, I'll need stealth rolls from everyone to not be noticed standing in the doorway!

[Continental Op]

Wolf enters the room, and quickly slides to his left to make room for the others. He quickly points to the dog for someone else to handle, while he aims his M1 and starts mowing down the dwarf and human operating the machine gun. He doesn't say anything, he just opens fire on their unprotected backs.

As he is firing, Wolf's features grow more animalistic. Hair sprouts from the sides of his face, and the normally black hair on his head grows three peculiar white stripes, one down the center of his head and one on either side. His nose elongates into something of a snout, and his fingers look more like claws, though he still seems fairly adept with them. As much as he wants the company to call him "Wolf", right now he looks more like a badger than anything else.

Wolf is going to use his action surge and extra attack to attack four times here. Not sure if we have advantage from the surprise or not, but I will roll twice just in case. And he is ready to use some superiority dice, if the opportunity presents itself. Since that involves more die rolling, I will put that in the OOC thread. Wolf focuses first on the dwarf manning the machine gun; if he goes down, he will turn to the human helping the dwarf.
Attack 1: [1d20+9]
Attack 1(adv?): [1d20+9] and potential damage: [1d10+4]
Attack 2: [1d20+9]
Attack 2(adv?): [1d20+9] and potential damage: [1d10+4]
Attack 3: [1d20+9]
Attack 3(adv?): [1d20+9] and potential damage: [1d10+4]
Attack 4: [1d20+9]
Attack 4(adv?): [1d20+9] and potential damage: [1d10+4]

And Wolf's bonus action is to shift, so he gets [1d6+9] temp HP and +1 to AC for the next minute.

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger takes aim at one of the individuals that was not previously targetting, and fires as he moves into the room.

Att: [roll0]
(If advantage) [roll1]

Dmg: [roll2] Sneak attack: [roll3]

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc silently sighs in relief at Wolf's gesture. He wouldn't lose any sleep over painlessly killing a mutt. Halfling's best friend they ain't. He rolls between Wolf's legs and takes careful aim, holding the pistol in both hands.

Attack with advantage [roll0] or [roll1] for [roll2] piercing damage plus [roll3] sneak attack.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral aims at one of the guards at the AA gun, preparing to fire if they notice the attack in the bunker.
Steady aim then readied action to attack one of the AA gun guards if they seem to notice the group in the bunker.
Attack: [roll0], [roll1], [roll2], best of 3
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[MrAbdiel]

Into the bunker they go, guns blazing; and the Kreigers don't even see it coming.

Wolf is first through the door, carbine barking its Amcaran wrath three times into the back of the triggerdwarf. He has enough time to release a coughing grunt as he jerks in his seat then falls off its side, still and bleeding. Wolf's fourth round walks into the human beside him, spinning as he drops the ammo box in his arms and yowling as the round punches through his forearm.

You took down the dwarf and had a final round to spend on his buddy. My reading of your post about using Menacing Attack suggests you'd hold on to the Superiority Dice at this point, but let me know if you want to spend it at all.

Gabriel and Doc move into the room, Gabriel fading left and Doc tumbling through the arch of Wolf's moving legs in a practised maneuver that gives the Kreighound not even enough time to stir before a precision round puts it to sleep forever. Gabriel's shot catches the orc full in the chest, and he blinks in shock at the mortal strike; but seems either too surprised or too touch to acknowledge it and die as good manners would dictate. The orc and the human observers fight to overcome the natural instinct to curl up in the killbox, mustering their senses against the ambush for a desperate effort to come. The ammo-feeder stumbles to where his carbine leans unattended against the wall nearby, trying to bring it to bear with bloodslick hands.

Outside, K'ral's crosshair nods patiently over the helmets of the AA gunners and their minders. It's the machine gun nearby falling silent, not the sudden burst of gunfire, that's more likely to draw their attention; but so far, they seem to have not understood the doom is upon them. Patience a little longer, then.

The trigger dwarf is down, as is the kreighound; the orc is badly injured, one of the humans has a flesh wound, and the other has been spared to witness the carnage. Their turn is spent in surprise, so it's back around to yours. If any of them are able to raise an alarm at the end of your actions, there's a much higher chance the nearby AA gunners will get wise, at which point K'ral's action (presuming he repeats it) will go off and he'll start taking heads. But if you're slick enough, you can silence the MG nest and have a moment to regroup before planning your next move!

[Waistcoatwill]

Seeing the carnage unfold, Doc's eyes widen in panic as several Kreigers remain sta ding, fumbling for their guns.

He hesitates slightly, having to stop his hands shaking as he turns his gun on the injured human.

He let's out a weak Sorry buddy and winces as he squeezes the trigger, aiming just under the guy's chin, towards his brainstem.


Bonus action Steady Aim for advantage if Tasha's optional class rules are in effect.

[roll]1d20+7[/roll or ][roll0]
[roll1] damage plus [roll2] sneak attack if at advantage.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral talks quietly to Catchell while waiting for the AA gunners to become alerted ”I’ll start with the left gunner and you take the right, if you can’t get a clear shot, try to keep them pinned down until the crew in the bunker cleans up.”
Still aiming and holding action
Rolls:
To Hit: [roll0], [roll1], [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[Continental Op]

Wolf continues his barrage against the Kriegers, aiming first at the human near the machine gun. If that human is down, Wolf moves his fire to the orc. He snarls, inadvertently showing his sharp teeth as he squeezes the trigger.

I doubt Wolf has advantage for these attacks, but I will roll twice, just in case.
First attack: [roll0]
If adv: [roll1] and damage: [roll2]

Second attack: [roll3]
If adv: [roll4] and damage: [roll5]

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Seeing the shocked Krieg Orc go down, he shifts gears. Pointing at the the two in the back, a green orb swiftly heads in that direction.

Gabriel casts acid splash, if I understand the context correctly the two by the machine gun ought to be close enough to both be hit.
Kriegs need to make a dex save of 14 or take [roll0] acid damage

[MrAbdiel]

Incredibly, obscenely, the AA gunners do not become aware of the combat nearby. Perhaps blazing away with their enormous weapon has inured them, or even deafened them, to nearby combat; but for now, it seems the scrappy clifftop team will continue to get away with it.

Then K'ral hears the crack of Catchell's rifle, and a moment later the mingled exclamation of the struck soldier toppling off the gun with a wounded arm, and Catchell swearing profusely at his own mistake. "Crap! Aw, crap! I didn't- I wasn't-" But it's too late. It did, and he was, and the men at the AA gun begin howling and looking around for their target.

The soldiers already beefed their perception check to know what was going on, so they're still disoriented for your next shot, enabling advantage. Even though this isn't exactly the trigger K'ral was waiting for, I'll assume he knows now's the time to follow through.

Then K'ral's rifle cracks from his hiding place. With an audible ping, the main gunner's helmet careens off the cliff, along with a steamer of extruded grey matter; and his corpse sloughs off to the side onto the top of his screaming, wounded comrade.

Meanwhile...

Ssassten's low clicking hiss becomes a fullblown roar as he barrels into the room, bayonet first, looking to skewer the injured human ammoloader; but the Kreigsman hurls himself to the side, bowling through the carcass of his dwarven ally. In the air, however, he receives a worst fate - one of Wolf's rounds pips through his lung and out through the loophole of the bunker, and the soldier tumbles to the ground wheezing and bringing up his rifle to bear on the invaders in one almost gallant act of defiance.

Then he is staring down the barrel of a pistol in the relucant halfling medic's hands; hears an apology that genuinely seems to lighten his mortal load for the instant before the trigger is pulled, and then his troubles are ended forever.

The snarling shifter's second round thumps into the badly wounded orc, and the thick bodied, grey skinned soldier drops his gun and slides down the wall with a pitiable death gasp.

This leaves just one soldier holding the bullethole in his stomach, heaving breathes in panic and anger, and then pain as he catches a burst of acid that corrodes away the uniform around his right pectoral, then begins to bubble and melt the skin. He screams as Amcaran violence engulfs the room, and does the only thing his spiteful, panicking mind can think - produces a stielhandgrenate, and throws it - perhaps a touch prematurely - over at the munitions dump in the corner of the room.

The orc - he's still alive! The tenacity with which that race clings to life after mortal blows is sustaining him, long enough to produce a small copper sphere the size of a knucklebone, depress an inset circle on its surface, and then bleed out.

You're close enough to this grenade as it's thrown, with too much fuse, to maybe make a difference. So I'm giving you two options.

Option 1: a DC10 Reflex Save will get you out of the bunker and reduce the damage the ensuing blast will cause you significantly. That is, by half, or completely if you have evasion.

Option 2: a DC 20 Reflex Save will permit you to throw yourself toward the grenade, and with a subsequent Dex check, DC 10, throw it out the loophole. Failing that check means you only throw it far enough across the bunker that it doesn't light up the munition dump.

As many folks who want to dive for the grenade can do so. If you get it away from the munitions, someone can still dive at it to try to get it out the window.

Good luck!

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc feels a terrible wrenching in his gut as he fires on the Kriegsman, the Krieger's near mortal wounds and rising rifle barely softening the blow to his soul. The silhouette of the grenade flying past mercifully stops him dwelling in the casualty.

Hours and hours of playing catch with his pop and brother in the park start him moving without thinking. His small form dives after the twirling ordinance and smoothly flicks it out of the loophole into the void.

A flood of adrenaline finally kicks in as he lays on his back, dumbly looking around at his comrades and hyperventilating. The blood pounding in his ears sounds oddly like the roar of the crowd in the Golem's stadium. Did...you...guys...see...that?

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
That would make a pretty blossom, maybe another time. he says as he snatches the grenade with his magic and shoves it out the window. His eyes follow its descent, and he is distracted by the fire bloom. A large smile on his face.

[Continental Op]

As Wolf registers the danger from the grenade flying towards the ammunition, he sees Doc already spring into action and Gab cast some sort of spell. As the grenade flies out of the loophole, he stands there and blinks. "Well, that happened."

He then notices the orc and rushes over to him. Wolf makes sure the orc is dead by poking his eye with the M1, pulling the trigger if there is any movement. He then looks at the copper sphere. He shouts, "Hey, does anyone know what this is?"

Unless Wolf knows what the sphere is, then he reacts accordingly. If he thinks it is going to explode, he will try to imitate Doc to the extent he is able. Or is it some kind of panic button?

[MrAbdiel]

It doesn't... seem like an explosive device. It's passed any reasonable delay for detonation. If it's a chemical explosive, there's barely enough to take off a hand; not exactly a great last minute gambit. But a panic button? Maybe. It's just not big enough to be any kind of radio, or sophisticated broadcast device. Is it?

Understanding more will either require the use of the Identify spell, or some time to look it over - ideally, by someone specialized in magical and mechanical things.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral lines up another shot and fires at one of the guards on the AA platform, talking quietly to Catchell again. ”Truck is coming up behind us, about 20 seconds out, keep firing for now but be ready to get down”

20 seconds is three rounds counting this one if I’m not mistaken, also rolls
Hit: [roll0], [roll1], [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[MrAbdiel]

For the first time, K'ral's shot misses its mark; the intended recipient skull moving left at the wrong time, tracking the sniper's chasing crosshair to ricochet a bullet off the gunshield of the AA mount. Catchell's shot lands, but not with K'ral's killing precision; it thips into the body of the wounded soldier, penetrating in and out of the forearm of the wounded soldier, braying, covering, and looking for where to direct return fire.

Rats. They're looking for you now. Beat an 18 on a stealth roll, and you remain hidden, even if they've clocked your general angle of fire. Hit a 23, and you can relocate away undetected, Catchell along with you.

Within the bunker, the orc has expired, and the bleeding human Vult soldier has gone into shock, and faded from conciousness. The rest of the bunker's defenders are dead, and the heavy machine gun hangs idly from its rail. Outside, you can hear a near exchange of fire, and the panic-shouts of what must be the AA team. It sounds like K'ral and Catchell have opened up on them, and that battle is being played out now.

Ssassten sspeakss up. "We could turn the gun on the enemiesss sstalling our buddiesss on the beach. But we'd sssoon attract a sssizable responssse." Another naval cannon blasts at the cliffwall, its shells blocked by the blooming, purplish hue of the Kriegshield. "Not doesss it get usss any closer to the Sshield-casterss. They mussst be sssomewhere near to project the ssshield. But..." The lizardman looks around the bunker, exasperated. He's a point-and-shoot sort of soldier; and the limits of his creativity have been reached. He turns his reptile eyes to the corporal, hoping for some idea on how to proceed.

There are two gunners on the AA turret outside. K'ral and Catchell anticipate a light vehicle in the next couple of rounds. In the bunker you have the dead enemy soldiers (none of whom have anything particularly interesting on their persons, except the odd little brass sphere about which the Cpl may yet make a judgement. There's also the crates of Vult munitions which you narrowly saved from detonation. Aside from all that, those of you in the bunker have a moment to catch your breath. In the absense of any officers to direct you, what do you do?

[Waistcoatwill]

In a vain attempt to busy himself and not look at the bodies of the fallen, Doc walks over to the hatch on the floor of the bunker.

Where do you suppose this leads to? I'm guessing it ain't the subway!

He pulls out his stethoscope and microretractors again and sets to work.

Doc uses an action to investigate for traps and a bonus action to pick the lock.

Investigation [roll0]

Theives tools [roll1]

[Continental Op]

Wolf picks up the copper sphere. When he realizes the lizardman is looking at him, he scratches his head. "You are not wrong about the shield-casters, Monroe. But if we can help the folks on the beach then we should. If two of us can use this machine gun on the Kriegers, then the others should take out that AA gun and protect this bunker."

Wold looks around at the others, and sees Doc at the floor. "Um, Doc, aren't their Kriegers below us? You sure you want to let them in? Why don't you stay here and help feed the machine gun. If you have time, you could also see what is in that ammo pile, and figure out what in the nine hells this is." He tosses the sphere to Doc, not realizing that may interrupt what Doc is focused on.

"Gabe, you want to come with me and take out the AA gun? Monroe, think you can operate that machine gun?"

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
I'm with ya.

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc catches the orb somewhat less deftly than he did the grenade and looks over at the gap between the machine gun and munitions crates.

I'll be running flat out to manage all that, but if it keeps my fingers off the trigger I'm happy.

Try to show a bit of mercy to at least one Kreiger this time okay? If we don't know where to find the shield-schmucks then we'll need to ask one of them. Might be this hatch leads right to them, but I'll stop fiddling until we know more.

Jumping the gun a bit, but I wanted to respond to Wolf before team AA assault leave the bunker.

Doc will plan to use his fast Hands to keep the machine gun loaded and use his action to investigate/Arcana the orb, then investigate the crates if he has time over the next few rounds.

[roll0] +2 Arcana or +5 investigate on the orb.

[PartyOfRogues]

”Looks like they’ve started catching on to us, let’s move back and try to set up an ambush for the truck. Find somewhere you can get good cover.”
Moving back and setting up a hunting trap along the predicted route of the vehicle, then taking position up in a tree and waiting for the truck.

[MrAbdiel]

The hatch doesn't seem to be trapped - but it also seems to be locked up pretty damn good. It's a lock you can bypass, but it'll take time. (That is, atleast one more attempt, in which you hit a Thieves' tools DC of 15!

The little sphere is an utter mystery to you- it's as likely to be a part of some weird Old World game as anything else. You don't think it's a weapon - at least not directly. And you'll be able to start sifting through the munitions dump next pass, if you want!

"I think I can give it a ssshot..." Sibilates the lizardman, doing a quick check of the mounted weapon to make sure he understands what he's putting his hands on, but it comes naturally enough to him; and he begins blazing away down at the beach, walking the tracer fire over the backs of the defending trench warriors deflecting the beach assault at lag points.

When Cpl 'Wolf' and Pvt Ginger emerge into the external trench, they see that the crew of the AA gun is faring poorly. One of the four is dead, another badly injured beside him; with one of those who was sitting on the gun having climbed off to apply pressure to the bleeding gunshot wounds of the dying Kreiger. The one remaining gunner, however, is roaring in outrage and fear; and with a swift mechanical clicking, he pivots the AA gun around 180 degrees, tilts it down to parallel, and begins blasting flak rounds into the treeline across the path, splintering wood and shredding greenery - and ny hidden allied soldiers who might be hiding there. To the Skyknive's cold realization, the hail of rounds designed to rip apart aircraft is devestating the treeline where they left K'ral and Catchell. There's no sign of either of them returning fire.

K'ral and Catchell, however, skulk away from that scene with adrenaline pumping, the Kreigers pumping their ammo into the now unoccupied ground. They're further along now, further down the line past the AA gun and about a third of the way to being in-line with the next bunker in the Defiant Wall. It's also a fine place to lay in wait - through the trees, they catch glimpses of a light flammenkreigwagon, an enemy jeep equivalent with a driver and spotter in the front seats and an upright post with a pintle mounted flammenwerfer, a third crewman standing in a lightly armored cage and preparing to use the weapon to blech streams of burning fuel over entrenched enemies. It's moving at cruising speed, suggesting it has somewhere it intends to be very soon; and it will round the corner in a few seconds!

Let's keep the loose initiative of all-yall then all-them. K'ral and Catchell know the car's about to round the bend, so K'ral is clear to prepare an action to attack in some way and Catchell will do as he does. Wolf and Ginger, you see the AA gun blazing away and may attack it; but you'll need to beat a free DC 20 Perception check to also know the car's about to come around the corner too. Inside the bunker, Monroe is suppressing enemies on the beach, Doc investigated the hatch and the orb, and I think that brings us up to date!

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Approaches the AA position with caution, and prepares to take out the AA gunner.

Move close enough to sneak attack the AA gunner.
I am not sure how much cover the trench provides, but with Skulker it should be sufficient.

Stealth: [roll0]

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral follows the truck’s cab with his scope, waiting for a clear shot on the driver when they round the corner

Aiming and readied action to shoot the driver of the flammenkriegwagon when the truck rounds the corner
To Hit: [roll0] [roll1] [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[Continental Op]

When Wolf sees the AA gun open up on the treeline, he growls and starts shooting at the gunner. If he needs to move to get into a better line of sight on the gunner, he will do so, but otherwise he starts firing without another thought.

Hopefully Wolf doesn't give away Gabe's position, but he is focused on taking out that gunner. And IIRC, the AA gun is only 50' away, so the gunner should be in range.
He may use a superiority die to hit or for extra damage, we'll see:
Attack 1: [roll0] and damage [roll1]
Attack 2: [roll2] and damage [roll3]

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc slips the orb into his webbing for safe keeping, it might be a good souvenir if nothing else.

He connects a fresh feed of ammunition for Monroe, deftly laying it out neatly so that he can step away fjr a moment. Unsheathing his tendon hammer, he dashes across the bunker and starts hammering at the crates, trying to find anything interesting within them.

Action Investigate on the crates. Bonus action swift hands reload.

[roll0]

[MrAbdiel]

Gabriel creeps along the trench to get into position for a better shot, but luck is not with him; the second man on the gun is looking right at the trench as the soldier is moving from one shadow to another, hollers and alarm, and the AA gun begins to swing around, threatening to flood the line of the trench with bone-pulping anti-vehicular weapons fire. Cpl. Wolf acts quickly, snapping off two shots with the intention of creating a distraction in the gunner. With a choking gurgle, one bullet thumping through his throat and another square into his heart, he topples off the gun - terminally distracted. The secondary operator scrambles back onto the weapon and cries out in mingled fear and alarm, and completes the rotation of the weapon so it ends pointing down into the trench. Four big, smoking barrels glare down at Wolf and Gabriel - but they do not blink just yet, as the operator shifts desperately into the gunner's seat and tucks himself as best he can behind the gunshield.

Meanwhile, K'ral's target rolls into view - the flammenkreigwagon with its snubby, Kreig-designed nose and rear mounted weapon's platform bouncing around the corner. The spotter in the vehicle immediately clocks the situation with the AA gun and the trench - and flags the driver to pull up alongside. Then the driver's temple bursts, throwing his blended brainmatter out through the shattering windshield onto the hood of the wagon as it careens off the road and toward the trench between bunker and AA gun. The gunner and spotter are screaming in confusion now, and Catchell's bullet shooting off the rearview mirror doesn't help their state of panic as they try to get the vehicle under control!

Doc, meanwhile, digs through the supply. Crates of belted ammo for Monroe, happily blazing away. Additional calibres of ammunition for the various models of common carry Kreif weapons. Two crates each containing ten clunky, but perfectly functional stick grenades. And wedged behind one crate against the wall, an uncreased map criss-crossed with pencil marks and a suggestion of troop movements - how old, Doc cannot say; but it may or may not be interesting to the brass if they get out of this alive.

There's one more Kreiger on the scene that still lives - shot, bleeding, dying beside the gun, the soldier lets out a mortal, exhausted yawp and expends his final strength tossing a stick grenade - bouncing, tumbling, skittering and finally coming to rest in the trench... right near Pvt. Ginger, and Cpl. "Wolf".

Nice work, cliff team. The wagon is careening out of control, driverless, its two other crewmen surprised for this pass. There's one living operator on the gun preparing to shoot at Wolf and Ginger. The other guy, bullet-wounds-Hans on the ground, dies of bloodloss after throwing a grenade at them! They'll need to pass Dex saves of DC13, or else take 3d6 fire and 3d6 thunder damage. If they pass, to avoid the damage entirely, they throw themselves out of the blast in the quickest fashion - in this case, scrambling out of the trench to let the concrete channel the blast away from them.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral takes aim at the turret operator on the truck, firing another shot.

Hit: [roll0] [roll1] [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[Waistcoatwill]

Having stashed the map, Doc is rocked slightly by the blast wave of the grenade coming down the trench.

Damn, what are those boys getting up to? Keep firing at those Kreigers, I'll see what's up and try and get you more ammo when I can.

He scuttles up to the bunker door and peers round, seeing his buddies singed from the grenade and staring down four ludicrously huge barrels.

He snaps his over-sized side arm up with both hands and aims at the gunner's neck, hoping to graze the jugular or carotid despite the gunshield.

Leave 'em alone you bastard!


Stealth [roll0]

Attack [roll1] with possible advantage from stealth [roll2]

For [roll3] piercing damage and [roll4] sneak attack if the stealth succeeds.

[Continental Op]

Wolf sees the massive barrels of the AA gun pointed at him, and then the grenade at his feet. He makes the mistake of running straight down the trench at the AA gun, and the trench funnels the blast of the grenade right to him. He stumbles, but his thick beast hide protects him from the worst of the blast. He continues running at the AA gun, now yelling at the gunner to try to get his attention.

"Hey, you Krieger bastard! I'm coming for you!"

He keeps moving towards the gun, hoping to find a position where he can get a good angle of attack on the gunner.

Edit: Of course, all this may be mooted by Doc's one-in-a-million (or one-in-twenty, but who's counting) shot. Hopefully Wolf made it to the AA gun, and out of the path of the truck.

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Weevils as attempts to scramble out of the channel.
Unsure if he can make the shot from here, he resorts to acid again.


Dex Save: [roll0]

AA operator need to make a dex save of 14 or take [roll1] acid damage
(The gunshield is also targetted, not sure if it takes damage from acid however)

[MrAbdiel]

The sound of gunfire clattering and ricocheting off the bunker behind becomes louder like the onset of a hailstorm. A moment later, Pvt. Ssassten is skulking out the door of the bunker, lugging the heavy machine gun and a couple of looped ammunition belts clutched to his chest. It's too big to fire without atleast bracing, but the big lizard seems to have gained affection for the weapon.

The feralized corporal barrels down the trench with smoking shrapnel in his back. The AA gunner tracks him with the weapon, the huge, plane killing muzzles of the turret crossing his eye level like the hollow skull sockets of death itself, and then BANG.

For a blood freezing second, Wolf might wonder if he is dead. But the sound is the report of Doc's pistol fired behind him, the single round zipping between the narrow space between gunshield and barrels, clipping the steel and tumbling to slap sideways into the gunner's face. It bores a gory groove into the soldier's head, shearing off the right eye and the exterior frame of the socket, the left temporal lobe of his brain, and part of the back of his skull. Incredibly, he is not killed; gagging and screaming, staggering back a step and off the turret just in time for a whirling globule of emerald green acid to slap mostly on the gunshield, speckling over his mangled face and upper body, dropping him to the ground in paroxysms of existential outrage, and unimaginable pain. When Wolf rounds the corner of the gunshield, all the enemies are dead except the one whose grisly fate he just witnessed - though that one likely wishes he was dead; half blind and deformed and dying as he is.

That position gives Wolf a good view of this new intrusion on the field - a Kreig vehicle with a flamethrower turret careening toward the trench he just came from. He watches as the turret operate leans down to try to pull the dead driver from his seat; then a dual CRACK CRACK from the treeline suggests that Catchell and K'ral are alive and in good order, both bullets finding the turret operator who flops lifelessly from the vehicle, tumbling backwards off it like a broken doll. The spotter grits his teeth and, seeing the trench racing up and no time to make a sophisticated plan, leans over and jerks the steering wheel to one side. The wagon goes up on two wheels as it veers around in a tight circle, just narrow enough to avoid plunging into the trench. What it does do instead is hoons at fearsome speed close enough to the trench that it threatens to slam into Pvt Ginger, who just vacated the trench fleeing another peril!

If these were the only developments, the skirmish could be thought to be going well. But a great, awful shadow passes over the field of battle; and a tremendous figure alights the top of the now vacated bunker. Massive, scintillating, and rippling with power just as it was when you first saw it, the great blue wyrm with the Vult's fourfold lightning bolt stencilled on its flank settles, wings flared, into the midst of this skirmish. It surveys the scene with wicked intellect, before its eyes track downward to Pvt Ssassten, standing in the trench immediately below it, staring up in mute silence. The reptile eyes meet, and the lizardman seems to have lost even the presence of mind to try to escape. He just stands there as the dragon opens its jaws and emits a bone-shaking roar that ripples Ssassten's frill, and flecks him with sparking spittle.

K'ral, with a small but necessary assist from Catchell, snipes the flameturret operator from the wagon; but the spotter manages to get it under control enough to try to run over Pvt Ginger! Ginger's going to need to pass a DC 14 Dexterity save to leap back INTO the trench, or he's going to bounce off and over the hood of the wagon for [roll0] bludgeoning damage, and end up prone.

The AA turret operator passed his Dex save, even with disadvantage, to avoid Pvt Ginger's acid damage; but there's no getting around Doc's 30 damage crit, which zeros him out. He's 'dead' though in game he's dying screaming on the ground. Wolf can, as a free action, either end his suffering or ignore it, depending on what he decides is merciful and if he feels particularly merciful.

Then the dragon - the very same one you saw blasting transports out of the air - has come to perch on the bunker you were just in. The reason for this visitation is not immediately apparent; but what IS apparent is that this is a foe that, under normal conditions, can shred a through many times your number of soldiers. It uses Frightful Presence, requiring everyone in the scene to make a DC 17 Wisdom save versus fear, or be frightened of it for one minute, or until you succeed on that save repeated at the end of your turns. Frightened, if you need a reminder...


Frightened
A frightened creature has disadvantage on Ability Checks and Attack rolls while the source of its fear is within Line of Sight.
The creature can’t willingly move closer to the source of its fear.

After that, since that's all the 'bad guys' in your initiative scene done, you may freely act again! GLHF

[Continental Op]

Wolf's eyes go wide as the dragon roars at them. First the AA gun pointed at him, then the grenade, then the fire truck, and now being threatened by this larger-than-life beast is almost too much to take in. He looks around for any form of salvation, and sees the AA gun looming behind him.

Not pausing to think, or even spare a glance for the dying Krieger at his feet, Wolf vaults into the AA gun. He aims it as best he can at the head of the dragon, knowing he only has one shot at this. "Hey ugly! Eat shrapnel and die!" He then slams his fists on the activation panels, saying a quick mental prayer to the god of luck and fools that the thing actually fires.

Assuming the AA gun goes off and actually hits the dragon, Wolf (probably half-deafened) bluffs at the top of his lungs, "And there is more where that came from, you overgrown eel!"

Our only chance may be to frighten the dragon off, so Wolf is prepared to spend a superiority die on Precision Attack to land a hit. And either way, he is definitely going to spend a die on Menacing Attack. It seems a little weird to include the +2 to attack from his archery style on this, but since it is a ranged attack, I will keep it in there. Feel free to reduce these rolls by 2 if it doesn't fit:
To hit with the AA gun:[roll0]
And for advantage: [roll1]

No idea what damage is for the AA gun, but rolling for the extra damage for Menacing Attack:[roll2] and the dragon needs to make a Wis save DC:15 or be frightened of the little badger-man below him.

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc, compelled by animalistic terror, bolts down the trench to the AA gun. He tosses a grenade wildly behind him as he runs, before slipping between Wolf's legs and trying to put the gunshield between him and the reptilian horror perched on the bunker.


If possible he will try to get full cover from the gunshield at the end of his movement.

[MrAbdiel]

Ginger rolls back into the trench, covering up and smelling the rubber of the wagon's tyres as they very nearly smoosh him. Then a report from the treeline sends another round, accurate as K'ral always is, into the back of the spotter's head, and now he, too, lies dead in the wagon. With the three crew members all lacking synaptic connection at this point, the truck carries on in its circle with the dead driver's foot on it's accelerator, ripping around in circles in the grass near the trench, each loop a little irregular and unpredictable.

When the dragon lands, Gabriel and Doc have similar impulses - break out in a cold sweat, and throw a grenade. Both detonate on the dragon's scales, and seem to do damage... probably. Catchell makes a wild, wide shot at the beast; Ssassten just sinks down in the trench below it, hands fumbling in his pack for something, anything, to change the situation. But the beast seems so unconcerned with efforts to harm it and entirely occupied with tracking the reverse trajectory of that shot from the treeline. With Cpl Wolf dragging line of AA fire over to its perch, the great blue creature casually ducks its head under the walk of flak rounds, narrows its huge eyes, and releases a tremendous, roaring, blazing line of white-blue lightning into the treeline. The static rolls over the squad like a scintillating blastwave, snapping and pinging audibly on weapons and buttons... And perhaps more than that, for poor Private K'ral.

Autopiloted actions for Ginger and K'ral. Let me know if they're unreasonable! Ginger and Doc threw grenades and the dragon didn't bother to dodge. K'ral kills the last crew member. Wolf, sadly, misses by THAT much. Menacing attack doesn't activate because of the miss, so he keeps the superiority die for another attack. The grenades damage it! But it gives the old no-sale. It breathes at K'ral, as I randomly determined; and that'll be interesting.

K'ral's stealth roll was 23. The dragon's PASSIVE perception is 22. I rolled its ACTIVE perception, and got only a 20. So it can't SEE K'ral, but it knows he's there, because dragons am smart and he can track the shot. But not well enough to pick the target. Enough to breath, though.

So K'ral, you need to make me a very important Dexterity save or take a skin-crisping 68 Lightning Damage. Because you outstealthed it, you can have advantage on this roll. If you succeed, I'm going to say you avoid the damage entirely, as if you had evasion, because of your concealment.
But if you fail, you're doing to take the whole bit enough to 0 K'ral out, not QUITE enough to instantly reduce him to a skeleton. The DC is 20.

The players may take turns now!

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral braces as he sees the dragon turn in his direction, watching as the same energy that effortlessly obliterated a massive aircraft passes within just a few feet of him, burning straight through a tree and continuing into the forest behind him. Now much more keenly aware of the precariousness of his position, he leans out and fires a shot at the dragon, hoping it’s attention will be drawn elsewhere before it is able to attack again.

Steady Aim to counteract the disadvantage from fear and attacking, is Ssassten adjacent for Sneak Attack?
Hit: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Possible Sneak Attack: [roll2]
Save for fear: [roll3]

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc quietly moves around to the other side of the AA gun before popping out and firing a desperate shot at the big lizard. Without even looking to see if he hit, he scurries behind the gun again, putting the bug metal structure between himself and any more blasts of electricity.

Stealth [roll0]
Attack [roll1]
And if he still has disadvantage despite stealth [roll2]
[roll3] piercing plus [roll4] if Munro grants sneak attack by being adjacent.

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Might have found the explosions comforting, but not enough to offset the dragon.
Only one thought occurs to him:
We need more firepower.
He sends a Message to the rest of the squad in the bunker:
There's a **** dragon on the roof, we need more firepower out here.
With a moment out of the eye of the beast, he masters himself, It has to have a weakness, all things do.

Cast Message Spell
Use the light cover of the trench to hide.

Stealth: [roll0]
Fear (Wis): [roll1]

[Continental Op]

"Damn!" Wolf growls, seeing that he missed with all four barrels of shrapnel. He looks down at the contraption he is sitting on, wondering if he or Doc can load it, shaking his head after half a second. Then he sees the destruction the dragon made of the forest, which doubles his resolve to kill the thing, or at least drive it away.

"Where are we going to get enough firepower..." he trails off, looking at the the abandoned bunker directly under the dragon. "Hey Doc, cover me as best you can! I'm going to finish what you stopped that Krieger bastard from doing!"

Wolf then snarls, and makes his way towards the bunker, using the trench to avoid the madly spinning truck and trying to stay low and avoid the dragon's eye.

Wolf moves to the bunker opening, using his action to try to move stealthily. His plan is to toss a grenade into the ammo pile, and pray the bunker's roof is not that fortified, but that is next round.
Rolling for stealth: [roll0]

[MrAbdiel]

The dragon's hide is pinged and scored by the bullets flung at it; Doc's deflects entirely, while the one flitting in from the treeline thwips into the beast's side for damage that appears to concern it not at all. Its movements are laconic, untroubled, and even bored; here, in a warzone, under attack and ostensibly in danger that even a dragon should take notice of (the invading armies of the free world are no small threat), the great blue's features radiate lazy contempt only. It takes one step off the bunker, now leaning half off it to loom directly over the trench; scoops Ssassten fumbling for his explosives out of the concrete ditch with a slashing upward strike that grooves the grey seigeworks, then plunges its giant head forward to clamp teeth onto the lizardman's midsection. Ssassten is too afraid even to cry out; almost submitting to the mauling like a gazelle in the lion's grip. The big black scaled body twitches in the electrified crush of the dragon's jaws, then is dropped to the ground perforated and ragged, and finally slapped, tumbling raggedly end over end, skidding across the road and coming to rest at a gruesome contorted angle, stilled in the bushes by the treeline. With that, the beast turns its dull gaze to the AA turret, and the halfling hiding behind it; and voltage begins to crowd again behind the cage of its teeth.

Almost a non-event compared to Ssassten's mauling and demise, the flammenwagon finally breaks out of its spiral by looping too close to the trench. It hits the empty space of trench at speed with a front wheel, scrapes and skids up to stand on its nose while incidentally dumping the three head-shot corpses out of the interior, and then flops over on its top, mangling the flame turret and finally skidding off the clifftop entirely with a metallic tumble and crash below.

Ginger, Wolf, and K'ral are all now operating at decent enough stealth rolls to evade the dragon's focus. This is made possible because Doc's stealth roll failed - so the big electric eyes are on the little halfling, with everyone else atleast onstensibly 'hidden' in the scene.
The wagon falls off the cliff, since I rolled as good as I could for its randomized movement this turn, so it does the most helpful thing for your platoon imaginable. It's your turns again!

EDIT: To be clear, the dragon is taking damage from the rounds that hit it. But with an AC of 19 and a bucket of hitpoints, he's not worried; and your characters are right to be freaking out and looking for more firepower!

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral leans around the tree, managing to steady his hands before firing off another shot in the dragon’s direction.

Not much I can other than firing off another shot and hopefully passing a wisdom save eventually
Hit: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]
Fear: [roll2]

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc stares in horror as Munro is mauled and cast aside so easily.

He fires once more to no effect at the huge form before its gaze turns upon him.

Letting out a strangled squeak he rolls behind the AA gun, trying to break line of site completely and put as much conductive metal as he can between him and the dragon, just in case he can ground the charge.

Attack with disadvantage [roll0] or [roll1]

For [roll2] damage

Bonus action hide check [roll3]

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Grenades are just not going to cut it.
With the wrath of the wrym and more importantly, its attention directed away, he takes out his Behir, and tries to magic it underneath the beast after it leans to assault his comrades.

As was suggested earlier, exploding woopie cushon.
He is hidden, and has ranged legerdemain

Slight of Hand
[roll0]

[Continental Op]

Wolf froze in the trench near the bunker door when the great beast lunged and got Monroe. The sheer size of the creature directly above him almost paralyzes him. But when the dragon turns to the AA gun, Wolf knows he has to act.

Wolf pulls a grenade and tosses it into the bunker, aiming directly for the mound of ammunition. He then runs as fast as he can away from the bunker, in the opposite direction of the AA gun and the dragon's focus.

Rolling to attack with the grenade, if necessary (I assume it is a ranged attack with proficiency): [roll0]. Wolf then moves 30' away.

[MrAbdiel]

Doc takes cover as Gabriel and Wolf make their moves; and K'ral's latest round sniks across the tyrant beast's pronounced nose horn, chipping a sliver of bone from it. It's eyes track to the treeline as it considers loosing another devestating breath in that direction, but no; that AA gun seems to be the more legitimate threat, with the halfling tucked down behind it. It shifts its weight briefly, and Gabriel's Behir anti-tank mine skids with an unseen hand to be underneath the heel of one great clawed foot... But it stops the descent of that limb, looking down at the mine and the gambit of the whole thing with bemusement.

It is the last time the beast will engage in such combats with such detachment and langour.

The Wolf's grenade goes off in the munition heal, releasing a blast that throws fire and smoke and shrapnel and concrete fragments out the loophole of the bunker over the field below, and spiderwebs a great structural weakness in the whole concrete frame. The touches off Monro's Weasel, left in the trench after his mauling and rolled into the doorway, and with that secondary blast the whole structure gives way and sags inward as the doorframe, now ruined, collapses under the dragon's weight. Instinct demands that a creature, even as old and powerful as this one, seek fair footing when the ground beneath it is shifted... and it's this final tertiary blast in combination with the others than makes a difference. Another bang; a pained, reptilian roar from the now huge, blooming smoke cloud, stirred wildly by the beating of wings as it pulls up, and away, covering its retreat with a wild, aimless blast of breathed lightning that stitches a sparking, smoking zig-zag in the chewed up ground where the wagon had been circling. As the Skyknives peek up and out from where they had taken cover, or dived away from the blasts, they see the blue shape pulling away back up into the air, promising venomous reprisal in its thunderous roars...

... and leaving one huge, only partly mangled draconic forelimb on the pile of concrete, sheared off toward the 'elbow' where Behir had done the kind of damage that earned it that name.

The dragon retreats, and you're out of combat! The entry-half of the bunker is collapsed now, though there's enough room that an effort to clear some of the rubble could allow someone to wriggle inside the ruin as long as they stayed close to the loophole. The wagon has fallen forward off the cliff, and all the Kriegers in the immediate area are slain! You have a moment to take stock, and catch your breaths.

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc rushes over to the tattered body of Munro. It's clear he can do nothing to help, but he checks anyway. Sighing in frustration, he collects a dog tag and starts arranging the body in a less undignified manner.

Looks like we got lucky with that thing. They'll need some powerful magic to heal the limb. If it cares more about vengeance than recovery it could be back though, fatal that wound ain't.

At the very least, we made a big old noise and we need to split. If someone clears some rubble I can try to break us into that tunnel under the bunker. Anyone see anywhere else we can head? I'm all ears for other suggestions but we gotta be fast!

Passive medicine on 18 for looking over Munro corpse to be sure he's beyond help. Happy to roll if required.

Perception [roll0] to see if there's somewhere else we can head to other than underground.

[Continental Op]

Wolf picks himself off the ground after the dragon departs and walks over to Doc and the remains of Monroe. On the way, he reverts back to his fully (well, mostly) human shape.

He waves for the others to join them. Wolf also uses his whistle to signal K'ral, hoping he is somewhere in the trees and not dead from the dragon's blast.

He responds to Doc, "Yeah, I'm guessing with that explosion more Kriegers will be here soon. The question is, though, is this now the best spot for the guys on the beach to make it up?" He shakes his head. "I still think we need to find others before we try to take out any Shielders. I wish Ordo was here with his radio."

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Is mildly distracted by the beauty of the explosion.

After a few seconds his attention returns to the task at hand.

If we clear out that bunker, (Points)
Then we give the shorebound a clear approach.
If we aren't going to hold this AA gun, we need to destroy it before we move on.

(Considering Doc's words)
Lets hear if hes near by: (Casts Message)
Ordo, do you read?

[MrAbdiel]

Gabriel's Message casts successfully, but appears to fail to find its intended recipient - there is no reply, either because Ordo is out of the spell's range, or worse. That's the bad news.

The good news is that, Munro, incredibly, is alive - great gory rents in his scales over his torso and left arm and left and his tail are all present, but some quirk of his reptilian physiology has allowed him to bleed slowly enough that there's still time for Doc to save him.

I'm gonna ask you to roll, Doc - it's a little too touch and go for a take-ten here! Looking for a 15 for a stabilizing; less for less, more for more.

As for looking for alternative destinations, you can head up or down the line to attack another bunker or AA gun - but that may not be the best use of your skills as Skyknives, precision instruments meant to leverage opportunity. You could try to work on clearing the ramp down below the bunker, try to help the poor schmucks running through the minefields... But damn, if the battle isn't too big for you to take in completely. You're a private, and a sawbones; if there's a strategy the generals have cooked up to win this mess, you can't conceive of it.

K'ral and Catchell emerge from hiding, crowding around to watch the procedure.


There is a pattern of structures along the Defiant Wall - bunker, AA turret, bunker, AA turret, though not quite regularly spaced, to accommodate terrain. There's another AA turret far enough along the other side of the bunk, but it seems to have fallen victim to a devil-may-care bombing run by a pilot who came close enough to fly behind the Kreigshields, only to hit one target and then... Well. You hope, got away. Further down the line from where the turret you've cleared is situation, there is indeed another bunker, its gun chattering away at targets on the beach; but it seems they have their orders. You would have expected more resistance, up here - possibly, the attack on the beach is so fierce that the commander of the area has called trench warriors out of the line and to the beach itself. A weird lull falls over your immediate zone, as if fate, or whichever gods preside over such awful moments of history, has permitted you a lacuna of peace in which to watch Ssassten die... or live.

[Waistcoatwill]

My gods! Quick boys give me a hand, he's bled a lot but that plump broad ain't singing yet. Push down hard where I tell you whilst I stitch the worst bits!

A flurry of frenzied suturing and primary compression follows, sweat dripping down Thaddeus's brow. What he wouldn't give for a scrub nurse now!

Medicine [roll0]

I can restore a downed person to 1hp with a healer's kit use thanks to my feat, in case that helps at all?

One more use of a med kit ticked off then!

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral climbs onto the ruined bunker, scoping out the battle below to see where he can offer his support
Perception: [roll0]

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger (To Kral)
Do you recognize anyone down there?

[Continental Op]

Wolf slings his firearm on his back, kneels down and tries to help Doc as best he can.

He is vaguely aware of K'ral moving towards the bunker and takes a split second to say, "Someone - Catchell - keep a lookout for any Kriegers coming our way from the land!" He sweeps his arm away from the beach. He then goes back to (ineptly?) following Doc's orders to try to save Munroe's life.

If Munroe manages to comes around, Wolf suggests, "Now would be a good time to use your ring, Munroe. We need you up and moving around, soldier."

[MrAbdiel]

Doc does his work on the suffering Pvt Monroe. The lacerations are so numerous and deep that it would take a full surgical team many hours to do the necessary life saving work. So he does what he's trained to do - what the Med-Corps calls Cure Triage: preparing the wounds by removing foreign objects, settling splintered bones together, and generally reassembling a body as much as possible so the maximum amount of healing magic from a cure spell can go into the life-saving repairs, and isn't burned out doing the things that the surgeon can do. This also involves making hard decisions, and in this case, in involves bathing the wounds on the chest and neck with pos-gel and the wounds on the arm withneg-gel. When the lizardman comes to, reptile eyes wide and confused, he hears Wolf's voice enjoining him to use the emergency measures in his ring. He weakly clenches the hand with the ring on it and hisses out a gasp as mild divine light flickers from it, up his arm, partially sealing the wounds of his torso and critically, unseen, repairing the organs within enough for him to live. What he doesn't know - what Doc does know - is that the hand on which that ring sits, along with the arm it is attached to, will have to be amputated after the battle. The bones and sinews within can be supported with a sling and splint and splint now, but a reconstruction on that level us beyond the expertise of modern medicine even with the aid of curative magic.

"D-did we get it? Iss it dead...?" He puffs, talking deleriously to avoid cringing constantly at the pain in his body.
"It's run off," offers Catchell. "The bomb you pulled out went off with the corporal's grenade, and did the trick." This isn't the whole truth, but it's kind to offer to the critically wounded soldier. Ssassten will live - but he's not much use to you now, and is best left here in cover while your group continues its effort to secure the victory in the battlezone.

Meanwhile, at the edge of the cliff, K'ral looks down. A sea of olive drab heroes are grinding against the grey-and-black defenders, including dozens of small, previously hidden trenches in which semi-elite Krieger trench warriors are holding back the tide. Those, K'ral surmises, were probably up here holding these trenches, but forced forward by the aggression of the amphibious landing. That's probably why you've met so little resistance. But all those warriors are too far out to make out individuals.

...But below you, down about 80ft of prohibitively steep cliff, you see a mangled machine gun nest, and the contrasting shapes of the largest, and smallest officer in Echo company. Lt. Bathory and Pvt. Gamble are hunkering in the ruins of the next they have apparently cleaned out, with half the sandbag wall facing the beach sheared away by the flammenwagon that tumbled off the cliff earlier and continued on all the way to the beach to explode below.

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc winces whilst fiddling with a bandage on Monroe's should so that the lad can't see his face. He can barely rake his eyes off the wrecked arm that he might have been able to save on a better day.

Well, son, you're still alive and you did great. You gave as good as you got, I'd say. We've patched you up for now but I think you've done enough heroics for one day. Sit tight here, keep that arm supported and don't even think about busting any of those stitches! If I make it through I'll come look you over again after the battle, see what we can do about long term rehab and recovery.

Keep your head down and stay safe. I don't want to have wasted my good needle on you!

He gently pats Monroe on the back then hurries over to the wrecked bunker. He immediately sets to heaving wreckage out of the way, hoping the exertion will vent some frustration and hide the tears running down his cheeks.

Angry athletics roll to shift debris from the tunnel entrance.

[roll0]

[PartyOfRogues]

”Looks like the Lieutenant and Gamble are still alive, hard to pick out anyone else.”

[Continental Op]

"Alright! You have a story to tell your grandchildren now, Munroe! They should make a special medal for surviving a dragon's bite." Wolf grins, elated that most of their small unit is still here, and completely missing Doc's worries.

He stands up and looks around. At K'ral's words, he practically shouts, "The lieutenant is down there?! Well, then we need to clear this out quickly." Wolf then joins the others trying to clear up the rubble, after making sure someone (Catchall?) is watching the area behind them.

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Ell Tee, this is Pvt Ginger reporting. We are a small team up here, but the bunker above you has been cleared. Awaiting orders. (Cantrip)

[MrAbdiel]

Munroe takes his orders to rest and lay low, Ginger and K'ral keep eyes peeled, and Catchell ties off a length of knotted rope to a chunk of embedded rebar from the crumbled bunker, and throws the other end down to Pvt Gamble and Lt Bathory. Doc and Corporal 'Wolf' do most of the critical clearing around the hatch, finding it frustratingly closed and perhaps even impenetrable with a ring pull on its top but a locking mechanism that is beyond a simple pick-job. But then, unprompted, fate conspires to make their lives easier.

Click click click bzzt.

The mechanism in the door hums and whirs, and finally settles; and when there's enough of the rubble cleared to get leverage on the handle just to see if it's worth clearing the lot to open it properly, the effort applied raises the hatch a half inch before the weight of the remaining rubble pushes it back down. It's unlocked - but not from anything you've done, as far as you can tell.

[Awful]

Lt Bathory
HP 26/32, ARCANE WARD 15/15


The little vampire jogged up the cliff face, her feet sticking to the surface in seeming defiance of gravity, the knotted rope streaming through her hand in a loose grip. She stepped up and over, taking in the Skyknives present with an approving look. She waited to help Gamble up (As much as someone weighing a third of his weight as much could, anyway,) and stepped enough she wasn't an easy sight for any sniper. Without any immiment danger, she began to once again cycle her focus, recharging the ward that'd saved her life - oh, a good few times by now.

"Skyknives, good to see you! Looks like you've been having fun up here," she said crisply, taking in the smoking bunker. "Report. Who else have you seen from the company? "

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc backs carefully away from the now unlocked hatch, keeping a wary eye on it as skips across the rubble to the L.T.

I'm afraid Pvt Curry didn't survive the jump. She was long gone when we found her. He sombrely hands over her dog tag. Monroe's arm is out of action, for good, traded it for that. He points to the severed leg, grimacing. He's resting in some cover over there. That's all I'm afraid.

We were about to try to pop that hatch and get underground when the hell's cursed thing unlocked itself. Could be Kriegers seeing what the noise was or who knows what else! Do we unbury it fully or cover it up?

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Orders delivered, he finds a nice piece of cover to look out from.

[PartyOfRogues]

”Glad to have you back LT, did anyone else make it down to the beach with with you?”

[Continental Op]

Wolf visibly relaxes a little when he sees the Lieutenant. He listens to the others, and decides not to add to Doc's report or to the questions being fired at her.

Though standing at ease, his M1 is covering the hatch, just in case.

[Awful]

Lt Bathory
HP 26/32, ARCANE WARD 15/15


Bathory looked down at the little dog tags in her Hand, reading the tiny name engraved upon them. Internally she cursed at the lack of the Captain. The whole mission was messed up, but there was only pushing on. She slipped them into a pocket and cocked a finger ready at the hatch to cast, kneeling in nearby cover.

"They died in the line of duty, " she said, red eyes narrowed. "They can rest easy. We, however, still have work to do. Cover that hatch! One of you, ready a grenade, and if a Kreiger sticks his head out, chuck it in. "

[Waistcoatwill]

As an afterthought, Doc hands the diagram of troop movements to the LT.

Don't know how old this is but we found it behind some crates in here. He glances round at the gang. If anyone shoots me they're getting my bluntest kit next time I patch them up!

Doc moves round to the hinge side of the hatch and begins clearing rubble again. Fingers crossed if it opens up the hatch will give him cover so that the meagre squad can let rip at whatever fresh horror pulls itself out of the tunnel!

Athletics [roll0]

[stanleyindraven]

Private Gamble pulls himself over the edge of the cliff and steadies himself on his feet. He takes a few steps from the edge and looks at the situation. "What's next?"

[MrAbdiel]

At the Tail End of the Nightmare Assault...

Xilo, Salamir, O'Hara, Ordo and Jukebox all burst from the hatch in the moment of opportunity, and begin hoofing it toward the cliff wall. They are quite the party - a human, a kenku, a tortle, a tiefling and an elf, with nothing uniform about them except their skyknife uniforms specifically. So radical is the disparity in their physical appearance that they could not be mistaken as a unit representing any force but the Amcaran 'crucible of tribes'; and unknown to any of them in the moment, this scene and sentiment would be witnessed and imprinted on the heart of a private named Ursula Redspear, who would recreate that fivestrong dash in stylized rendition that would make its way on to the Amcaran silver dollar.

And some of those five would even be alive to see it.

At the top of the cliff, Gamble catches the message, looks around with bafflement to spot the approaching squad, and then begins conferring with his comrades in desperation to produce more rope. He has a little time to do it - without a better mechanism, the party on foot is forced to take the longer route parallel to the cliff wall, to the very base of the ramp, then to struggle up its harsh slope to where the rope awaits them. Naturally, this draws the attention and interest of all the Skyknives on the clifftop. But as the five down below strive against burning lungs and legs to make their way, the unfortunate truth is made understood - Catchell had that rope as a special requisition, but since it's not part of the standard Skyknives kit, there's none to be found beyond the one deployed already.

Kreiger trench warriors begin backshooting at the penetrating force on the beach, bullets sparking and plinking off the hard working construct's shield. Jukebox, smaller than the other soldiers, begins falling behind, and Ordo dips back to grab him by the jacket and bodily assisting him with stumbling, dragging force. Once they get to the base of the rope, and the first man starts climbing, Ordo and Jukebox are catching up, with the little Kenku calling on his bardic talents once more to manifest, from sparkling motes of light, a grappling hook with a knotted rope cord attached to it, and then hurls it as he closes with the rest of the group. The would be laughable, if it weren't so tragic; the hook soars a whopping fifteen feet into the air, donks off the cliff wall, and flops to the ground again beside the wheezing, doubled over Kenku. Even the idea that the most atheltic of them could hurl the hook, with its tether, all the way up the cliff wall is a stretch; but Sgt. Xiloscient hooks it to Pvt. Salamir's pack as the tiefling is sent up the existing rope; and once he's at the top, the operation becomes much smoother. Gamble seizes the rope, and begins hauling up troops one at a time with big hand-over-hand reels of his goliath arms. With Salamir and O'Hara ascending the slow way, and Jukebox, Ordo, and Xilo taking the goliath express elevator, the squad ascends up and over the cliff of the defiant wall with Kreig bullets scattering around them. The enemy should be able to muster the firepower to penetrate the shield construct's barrier, but in a strange reversal, the Kriegers on the beach are being suppressed by the Skyknives on the clifftop.

And then, like that, it's over - or over for the moment, anyway, as everyone gets clear of the fire lanes from the beach. It's the first time this much of Echo Company's 3rd Platoon has been together since the disastrous drop. For those on the cliff, it might seem miraculous that any Skyknives were able to slog their way here from the beach at all. For those from the beach, a very conspicuous, severed draconic limb suggests it may not be immediately apparent who landed in the best location, all things considered.

Doc, as this reunion is happening, has cleared the hatch in the rubble - and nothing seems to be springing from it, just yet!

Everyone's together! Not enough time for a short rest, what with the war and all, but if anyone wants to do any healing or whatnot, or cast any preparation spells before (presumably) you descend into this new hatch, now's the time.

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc mops his brow from the exertion of clearing rubble and catches sight of the beach party. A silent fist pump turns into an exasperated raising of hands when he sees that he has more work to do. He clambers back over to the group and starts to tend to Jukebox, pausing only give Sal a pat on the lower back.

You made it, growing up in Hell must have made you tough at least! I'm guessing your little spidery thing saved me a bit of work too. That don't make it any less creepy though!

He focuses hard on Jukebox, hoping to make a better job of thus arm than his last one. Finally satisfied, he regards the rest of the beach group.

Well look what washed up, you all look a mess. If any of you have your own blood on you then line up here so I can take a look. Don't keep me waiting.

Healer on Jukebox [roll0] plus 1hp per hit die.

Anyone else who needs it please roll 1d6+9.

[JbeJ275]

Through the last few weeks on base before deployment, Salamir's frustration with the construct had grown near legendary. He'd swore at it more than anything else, missed drill and meal alike fixing it every time it burnt out it's own cores out, sent a total number of components weighing three times as much as the construct itself to the junkyard and getting in near literal flaming rows with logistics officers to get his hands on the right arcano-tech compnents from discretionary budgets. All in all Salamir had barey avoided scrapping the project and it was permenant source of woe for the engineer and anyone within earshot. Now though, he could kiss the damned construct.

"You get to complain about Sparky being creepy when you get in front of a hundred odd bullets for the rest of the squad. And hey you don't need to tell me that I do your own job better than you can.

The second part of the taunt was soon forgotten and Salamir's smuggness somewhat diminished when he got in line for Doc to look at the shallow lacerations running down his arm and side, speckled with glass and metal shards. Adrenaline had kept him going since the drop but running further with those in him was not gonna be a good idea.

[roll0]

While he did so of course, the newly dubbed Sparky ran around the feet of the other squad. Letting off ocasional pulses of shielding energy which clung solidly to their forms.

Well, we haven't won our Aquit vacation yet. Where next LT? Good to see you and Gamble's gamble paid off.

[Continental Op]

Wolf waits for the those from the beach to get their turn with Doc and tells the Lieutenant about their local surroundings, not realizing that she may have a better idea of their location than he has. "Those of us up here landed in those woods over over there," Wolf explains, pointing. "The Shielders seem to be on the other side. But we gathered together and took out this bunker and AA gun, trying to find more of us before we go after the Shielders."

He is ready to answer questions, but otherwise gets in line for Doc's attention. He nods to Doc when he he is finished.

Wolf jumps a little when the mechanical creature pulses near him, but then rolls with it when he sees everyone else not reacting.

[Cavir]

Sgt Xilo

All those endless hours of obstacle courses were redeemed along the way up the cliff . They even got a quick breather at the top, in the midst of the legendary invasion.

"Good job skyknives. Any idea what's down that hatch?" Xilo, M1 at the ready, keeps alert of their surroundings in case of any enemy finding their way over but takes a minute to study the situation Wolf was pointing out. Could he make out any points of interest that would point out where they were on the map to figure out where they were now?

"Afraid of Sparky putting you out of a job Doc? Imagine them becoming standard issue. Many of the dead on the beach down there would still be on their feet. How are you on heal kits? I have a bunch." He gives Doc a handful of kits from his pack.

While he waits for Doc's medical aid, he gives report. "Corporal Spade ate an artillery round down on the beach. The five of us made it through some of the tunnels. They're using illusions down there to confuse and invisible stalkers to do cleanup. Covering an eye avoids the illusion. Found a communications room that had a route back up to the beach. Hardline was already down. Three enemy KIA. Recommend using a Sending from the radio to inform command so they can spread work about the tunnels, the illusion, and that we're still in the game."

"We're in a good spot to roll the flank on all these bunkers, help some grunts get up here to do it themselves, or stay focused on our mission."

33/51hp before the roll. Have 13 temp hp.
Healing [roll0]

Giving 3 heal kits to doc.

Perception check to see if I can figure out where we are on a map? [roll1]
History check in case that helps with the mental map [roll2]
If successful, where should things be in terms of our mission?

[PartyOfRogues]

”We haven’t been down the hatch yet, but I’ll go ahead and scout it out unless there are any other volunteers”

[Awful]

Lt Bathory
HP 26/32, ARCANE WARD 15/15

"Right," Bathory mused to herself. "Very well. Good work, Xilo. I'm sorry about Spade. The Sending from the radio? If you can get through, do it."

Bathory looked at her soldiers, battered but (mostly) alive.

"Alright, my brave boys and girls. You might have noticed," she smiled wryly, "We're not quite where we're supposed to be. It'd be quite a trek to our objective, even if we could reach it," she said. "A few miles of forest, full of Krieg druids and only after that the target. So first, let's check out that hatch. Something opened it remotely for a reason, and we need to find out why they held it so important. Everyone! Check your supplies, I want a inventory of what we've got. Anyone lacking ammunition, share it around, make sure everyone can pop a Krieg if they need to."

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger

I'm down a grenade and my Behir, used em on the dragon.

I'll go with.

[Cavir]

Xilo looks to the skyknives. "You heard the LT. Sound off your status. Ordo, get the radio out."

He turns to LT. "Down one grenade. Full on Demo. Good on ammo and healing kits. Radio fried for normal ops. Will have 1 Sending left."

While the others report, Xilo quickly writes a a brief message, counting the words and making some changes. So much Intel to send upwards but the spell had its limits. He shows it to the LT for approval then hands it off to Ordo to send. The message reads:

Skyknives elements landed on beach among 62nd. Underground tunnels have illusions. Covering eye avoids. Clifftop breached. Dragon injured, chased off. Secured hatch breached. Going in.

[JbeJ275]

”Used a bomb to bust a bunker, but I’ve still got plenty of hellfire rounds. I’ve patched Sparky up properly as well.”

With that Salamir took his position close to the front of the squad as they started down the hatch.

[PartyOfRogues]

”I’ve still got everything I need”

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc looks visibly tired with a slight tremor now visible in his non-dominant hand. He nods in thanks and stows the resupply from Xilo.

That would be great, genuinely, but they'll just keep making bigger guns.

He shakes his head wearily and turns to the L.T.

I've got lots of gear, 18 med kits left thanks to the Sarge. I could definitely use a little breather or preferably a stiff drink. Not going to be good for much more fine needle work til then. I can do patch up jobs like a butcher who didn't go to a Wysteria League school all day though. Down 1 frag grenade.

I'll update the numbers if any more folk need a heal before heading down. If you've still not had a heal from me and need one in combat, or if anyone is really hurt and needs a short rest inspiration heal then yell Medic! during the fight. Otherwise I'll be on yo-yo duty, giving 1hp a shot to anyone on 0.

[MrAbdiel]

The rest of the patckwork squad sound off they status. A lot of grenades have been used in the desperate scramble of close-quarter battle, and few soldiers have gotten this far undinged; but on the whole, the platoon's elements are still battle ready. Ordo rattles off Xilo's message, and then snaps one of the two Sending dowels in half; putting one piece of the finger-sized device in his pocket, and settling the other behind his right ear. The response comes back as everyone is preparing to descend into the tunnel. Ordo takes the piece of wood from behind his ear - its broken face is glowing red like a cigarette, right now; and he presses it into a small receptacle on the handset of his back mounted radio. The radio sputters and throws off a little smoke, as the magical activity of the enchantment forces the mechanical device to confront its waterlogged and broken state breifly; but the spell's power loops through the busted machinery and echoes out of the speaker loud enough for the platoon to hear it clear enough. It's a radio operator you don't know, but Ordo's eyes light up and he nods assuringly that this is one of his colleagues in the Brotherhood of the Shortwave.

"Good Intel, Sergeant. Tunnels enduring mystery. Colonel Tatterfield says: Forget original objective. Secondary objective in effect: Pattern Thorn. With Kreigshields undiminished, outcome uncertain. Contingency: Flyball."


The language is somewhat coded for message economy, but they're terms you're all familiar with from your training. Colonel Tatterfield is the the impressively moustached gnome officer who is technically the formal leader of the 101st Skyknives; though his leadership style has typically invested in pressing authority as close to ground level as possible, given the oddball nature of the airborne units, and how frequently they are expected to operate without contact from upper officer ranks. You've seen him from time to time in your training, and he's always given the impression of competence build on restraint - an interesting choice for a man leading jumptroopers.

Pattern Thorn is a standard secondary operational target for Skyknives and other infiltrator units. Distinct from similar Patterns like Haywire, which expects soldiers to prioritize the destruction of enemy materiel in expectation of extraction, and Rattler, which expects soldiers to dig in and wait for reinforcements, responding with extreme measures only if provoked heavilly, Pattern Thorn expects soldiers to invest their efforts in causing maximum disruption to enemy installations for the longest time possible, so as to take pressure off other elements of an assault. It's an unpleasant Pattern to be given, ultimately amounting to something like dying up there causing a ruckus is the best trade-off we have available right now.

Contingency: Flyball is a modifier suggesting that your unit is deeply enough embedded in enemy territory that you should not expect extraction if there is a strategic withdrawal from the theatre, or a large scale surrender. Your orders in that circumstance are to extract into rural spaces, and commence guerrilla operations until you make contact with allied forces. No withdrawal has been sounded yet - the battle's outcome is still in the balance - but it's hard to imagine paying such a price and getting this far only for the offensive to be a bust, leaving you to run off into the hills in occupied Aquiteaux.


Contact made and reply given, the platoon begins descending into the mysterious hatch. With scouting elements forward down the ladder, there's a brief halt called when runic symbols start showing up on the steel plated shaft's interior; but an inspection suggests they are not traps, but wards against scrying and communication. The walls don't close in on you - but you are still descending into magically isolated, tomblike belly of this chamber that must be deep inside the stony cliffs of the Defiant Wall. After a descent of a hundred feet of ladder, you drop into a bare, dull-steel plated chamber lit by red electrical lights at regular intervals. The room is spoofed with the same kind of illusions part of the group has encountered before; but instructing the Skyknives to close one eye, the single corridor straight forward (west, you think) is revealed; ten feet wide, leading to a large, ten foot diameter steel hatch door like a bank vault; locked with arcane anti-scrying symbols scratched masterfully into its surfaces and featuring on the wall beside, a single keypad with the digits one-through-zero, a red button, and a green button; as well as a grille which likely has a speaker function for... perhaps, someone behind the door. The construction of the door is impressive engineering - it'll take more than a frag grenade, that's for sure; and you wonder if even the judicious application of a Weasel or several will bust the exposed hinges - and if it does, this will accomplish nothing for the steel bolts transfixing the door and frame from multiple angles.

Whatever is behind, the Vult absolutely do not want anyone casually walking in.

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc puts an arm out as if Sal was blindly going to rush up to the doorway.

Before you go sticking those dirty little mits of yours in all those gadgets, I've got a trick that might help you out. Hopefully we can see what those Kriegers have been touching.

Careful not to let the edge of the pack touch his skin, Doc slices the side of a neg-gel pack. He gently blows some of the still powdery unreached residue onto the control panels.

Hopefully this will react with any orga in matter they left behind when they went in and show you what they pressed. Careful though, you don't want this in your lungs!

Help action for an investigation check.

[JbeJ275]

Sal rolls his eyes at Doc's estended arm, but waits for him to pread the gel, tying a cloth to cover his mouth as he follows Doc and begins to carefully examine the machinery. First looking for simple deposits of reacted neg-gel on the buttons to decide which had recieved the most attention, as those were likely the ones for the correct passcode. Then with careful use of tinker's tools Sal cracked the panel open, carefully taking off the number pad without tearing at the wires behind and exmined the arcanical guts of the panel. If there was any contingency agains multiple incoreect passcodes he'd likely be able to tell from this, any if not maybe they could just interate through the numbers that were most pressed. If he was lucky there would be the code checker this side of the wall and he could splice around it, but that would first require figuring out this Vuler system.


[roll0] or [roll1]

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger REALLY wants to blow that door, we probably have enough ordinance between the squad, but there is no question that it would collapse the tunnel and kill us all. Instead he will perform a technical inspection of the the door looking for physical and magical exploits.
Hmm, what happens if we interrupt this magical circuit....Is that locking bar vulnerable to the catapult spell...

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral checks his rifle and lines up a shot for anyone guarding the other side of the door.
Aiming with a readied action to fire at any guards on the other side of the door
Hit: [roll0] [roll1] [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[Cavir]

Sgt Xilo loads a new ammo clip and checks on his remaining grenade. "Expect them to be well defended so get ready and spread out. Stay clear of the door swing. LT, you might want to get up high. They won't be expecting that."

[MrAbdiel]

A collaborative effort follows. Doc's creative use of neg-gel reveals a partial combination of the door's most commonly used code. Without knowing the full combination - or how many digits would be in the combination - it's impossible to know how to open the door. But the gel trick reveals the three most used numbers - and guessing, and a little educated guessing about the way the gel reveals faint skin oils tracing in one direction or the other gives a decent idea of which is the first of the three to activate. That, Salamir is able to intuit, will be enough to activate the circuit inside the panel without immediately tripping the secondary circuit, warning the enemy of a false input.

From there, it's Private Ginger who is struck by providential inspiration. A desperately quiet effort to loosen some exposed screws on the wheel crank of the vault door preceeds a delicate operation of reaching in through the hole the crank once occupied and, at full extention of the fingertip, packing thumbsized daubs of plastic explosive on the weaker interior elements of the locking mechanism. Using the big steel wheelnut and all of the spooled, insulated copper wire from both engineer's kits, the copper-wrapped ring is packed into the center of the door, everyone gets clear, and holds their breath.

WHUMP-shoonk.

A precision use of the catapult spell taps the first digit of the mostly elusive code. The current in the door's locking mechanism activates, and puts voltage through the charges. The charges explode in their confinement - WHUMP - warping some of the metal casing of the vault door, but critically splitting the huge radial locking pins at the weak points where they have been ground to accommodate the cog-teeth that deploy them in, and out. This leaves the great pins broken, but still in the locked position; but the shoonk of the electromagnet drawing them together out of their receptacles signals the gambit has worked. Smoke is pluming out of the door now, but when the order comes, Private Gamble hits the door with his shoulder and it groans open in its tormented hinges. Beyond it is a veil of smoke, and a chorus of confused Kreigspiel shouting. Now is the time for hard decision - blindly, into the smoke; or hold, wait for it to clear, and risk being pinned in the corridor.

The door's open, and there's definately Vulters inside - but with the smoke from blowing the door, it's impossible to know what's going on within with precision. Anyone who beat the bad guys with their initiative will get a chance to act before the enemy after everyone has made their decision here; then the jerks will go, then everyone will go and it'll be on for young and old. Your options:

1. Rush through the smoke. Without being able to survey the scene inside, you can't be sure what kind of position you'll end up in and what you're facing. If you rolled really well in initiative, you'll at least be able to readjust; but everyone else who commits to rush the smoke is going to be as exposed as the room's interior happens to make them until their next turn. That might be fine. Or not.

2. Hunker in the corridor. Hiding in the corridor, you have 3/4 cover from anyone attacking you within the room. But it also means you're bunched in a corridor, easily suppressed, and further away from the action if the opportunity to perform at critical moment happens to depend on your battlefield positioning. Once the smoke has cleared, you're free to try to enter the room as normal - but you won't be doing so with any smoke cover and, importantly, the enemy within will have had all the intervening time to pull up their socks and prepare for you.

Does fortune favor the bold, or does wisdom dote upon the cautious? Make your decision now.

[JbeJ275]

Salamir and his construct stay in the corridor, slowly sinking down onto his chest as he goes prone to avoid any gunfire heading for chest height. His left hand holds his hellfire rifle and his right one of his grenades.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral heads into the room, looking for whatever cover is available

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc presses himself against the wall to the left of the now open door, ready to rush in and patch up anyone hurt in the imminent chaos.

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger avails himself of the smoke and rushes the room.

[MrAbdiel]

Ginger, K'ral, Xilo, Wolf, Gamble, Ordo, O'Hara, and Lt. Bathory are up and moving the moment the chained banging of the grenades dies down. Doc, Sal, Jukebox and Catchell hole up either side of the door, waiting for their sight lanes to clear. There's a storm of shouting in the Kreiger tongue from within; somewhere between five and a dozen distinct voice; some much further away than you'd expected. As the smoke blows back into the corridor, the rear echelon share a worried look and then focus on seeking targets. Ginger, as he moves up, produces a shred of fleece and tosses it before him; it vanishes into illusory smoke that blooms out and overlaps the real cloud; but the unit, knowing it to be an illusion, can see through that transparency even as the genuine smoke begins to settle and dissipate. For those remaining in cover, they can expect this maneuver to give them ongoing concealment. But the time is now for rushing, and those surging into the room need to clear the borders of the true smoke...

The storm of Amcaran bootfalls suggests a transition from concrete to slick tile before you clear the smoke to find a scene you might have expected... but not at this scale. This is not an underground control room - it's an underground vault, as big as an airplane hanger. Your door seems to have opened on the centre of one of the long walls of a huge oblong shape. You're about halfway along a wall that might be a hundred and thirty feet long, and a hundred across. Most of the room is filled with operational equipment; desks with telephone operators wildly trying to get their messages through; huge, mechanical databanks with functionaries ripping out fistfuls of punch cards and throwing them into burning waste baskets; clusters of men and women who variously look like bedraggled soldiers, labcoated geeks and harried, frightened support staff are all over the place. There must be a hundred people in this room Most of them are plainly uniformed support staff working elements of the Vult's massive intelligence operation within the Defiant Wall. Very few of those carry weapons at all. Some of them are Vult soldiers who seem to have come off the line to this room to give reports. There are several wounded enemy soldiers in cots by the walls in the crowded room. But every one who is their feet is engaged in a full shred-and-burn operation, destroying documents, maps, film reels - anything they can get their hands on.

And at the back of the room, on the wall across from you through about eighty feet of confused enemy operators in panicking clusters, is a target of opportunity. The floor of the room raises up on a short ramp, like a stage for the rest of the room's viewing. Most of the back wall of that stage us an enormous, swimming collage of arcane symbols and flickering runes in purple. They dance and whirl, and at moment seem to resemble flashes of the maps you've been forced to memorize of the entire landing warzone before becoming incomprehensible again. And conducting this orchestra of information, whirling hands in mystical spirals that manipulate the huge field of data and power, is a figure in a long black coat and sharp military cap. He draws and moves huge sweeps of violet energy across the upright field of magic, intensely focused. For a moment, you see a small, coin sized rune whipping across the purple chaos; then the figure raises a hand, the rune disappears, and a now distant, but perceptable thump of naval cannons banging harmlessly off the Kreigshield washes through the room. This, you are sure, is one of the Kriegshield Magi. Not one of the apprentices, feeding them power for their immense magics from far away; the apprentices you were meant to destroy because finding and assaulting the Magi directly was deemed to risky, and too costly to attempt. This is a person - a human man, you think - with sophisticated magical talent to deflect all of the allied navy's firepower so long as he is supplied with the raw mystical fuel. This is the kind of mage that can kill people with words, or rip open portals to distant planes ... if his magic were not so deeply hooked into this superior task. The figure glances back over its shoulder to you; and the dessicated, almost skeletonized face has enough light in the sockets of its eyes, and enough movement in leathery lips, to conjour up a snarl.

You take all this in at a glance as you rush past the smoke, and the scattered soldiers begin shouting their more specific alarms to each other and taking up arms against you. You rush to take cover behind the upright, cast iron frames of some hollowed out data banks, two soldiers to each bank, with the support staff of the room cringing away from you in fear. Of the grenades that flew into the room, the effect appears to be mixed.

This is a complex room for theatre of the mind. So let me try to demystify it and give it some actionable dimensions without committing myself to the simulation of a hundred actors.

Near to you (within a single move action, or about 30ft) are a dozen frightened, fleeing radio operators and chart coordinators who are trying to get clear of the chaos. Three quarters cover is east to find from most of the room, though anyone who comes around to the side of the room you just entered by will outflank you.

Further from you (within two move actions, or about 60 ft) are...

- Two groups of Kriegsoldat, four each, to your group's ten oclock, and to its two.
- A dozen instances of staffers destroying critical information in various creative ways you are free to imagine.
- Two blast marks where grenades went off and, fortunately for the enemy, no one was standing close enough to suffer as badly as the tables and databanks did.
- Two blast marks, one with two Kreigsoldat lying on the ground in shock and partial dismemberment, one with five support staffers, two of which are dead, the others who are injured from the fragmentation and are about to start screaming until they pass out.
- Two trenchcoated officers with skull topped canes - mages, maybe, standing one to each left and right end of the raised platform. One of them is clutching his side, where blood is slicking his black uniform.
- A dozen individual cots set up on the crowded edges of the room, for wounded soldiers. Two of them appear to have caught the blast of a single grenade.

Far from you (within three move actions, or about 90ft) is the Kreigshielder. He is not standing in cover, and appears to be focusing most of his attention on commanding the energies of the Kreigshield outside. When it comes to your turn, you can navigate how you wish. The first 60 ft of the room are difficult terrain because of the various screaming nerds. Before you move, make an intimidate check, DC 12 (advantage if you speak Kreigspiel) to move at full speed. Initially, none of your enemies are in cover; but since it's K'Ral's turn then the bad guy's, you can expect they will be, soon!

OOC: It's Pvt K'Ral's turn.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral quickly orients himself to the room, spotting an opportunity, he aims at the hands of the Kreigshielder to disrupt his channeling of the arcane energy.
Steady Aim and then firing a shot using inspiration
Inspiration: Choose an enemy within your line of sight. The next time you make an attack against this enemy, a hit will cause a critical hit, and a miss will cause the target to become PINNED until the end of its next turn
Rolls:
To Hit: [roll0] [roll1] [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[MrAbdiel]

...Yes. Yes I DID author a mechanic that allows Rogues or Paladins to crit on demand, didn't I. ;_;. Ah, you know what? It's a time of heroes. ;)

A bullet slaps into the back of one black gloved caster's hand and passes through the other side, throwing thick blackened blood and fragments of shattered metacarpels out the other side. There's no howl of pain, but the caster reels, staggers, and drops flat on the platform; and as he does, the huge host of swimming violent symbols and energy grinds to a sluggish halt. The desiccated throat of the Vult Kreigshielder roars out with generalized demand:

"Gods' sake, halt them you idiots! I need more TIME!"

* * * * * Elsewhere... * * * * *

Colonel Tatterfield plucked at his moustache; the expression on his face tight, and sour. He had been an advocate for Amcara's intervention in the Old Kingdoms' war. To him, the bountiful fortune of Amcara's princedoms had only increased the moral debt they owed to the lands they had come from generations ago, even if that had been an unhappy parting; and while other officers had stomped and spat and warned about the hideous blood price for such an intervention, he had maintained that victory would be worth the price, and would ultimately cost fewer lives. Was a family in Aquiteax or Albinon - or even the Kreigers themselves - not entitled to an age of peace, and opportunity to better one's lot without tanks, and fire, and bombs and ambition tearing apart their lives? Were they not as entitled as Amcaran folk? If they believed the blood of their own nation to be more precious than that of the others, were they not tacitly ceding the arguement of the age to the Vult after all? He had argued before the Parliment of Princes, and his faction had won.

But now the invasion has rapidly begun to turn to disaster. The Vult hierarchy clearly knew about the Skyknife insertion; and without those soldiers deep behind the lines disabling the Kreigshield apprentices, it seemed progressively less likely that they would be able to overcome the beach with the mortals and machine guns roaring down at them behind their impenetrable shields. Every second he delayed, Naphto beach was soaked another inch deep in Amcaran blood; and the gnomish Colonel began to wonder if he had been wrong. Because it really felt, in this hour, that the ancient and bitter jealousies of this ridiculous continent were not worth the price being paid. Was he going home with nothing but a hundred thousand body bags on his conscience, for having the hubris to believe that Amcara had something to offer the world it had broken away from?

Perhaps, it was time to-

"Colonel! Colonel Tatterfield!"

His aide - the new one, the half-orc with the pony tail whose name he could never remember and worked around by calling him lad, burst into the command room aboard the Fist of Liberty, startling the half dozen war-scryers and radio operators, and drawing the eyes of all the senior officers.

"Report, lad. Good news I hope." Even asking for it, Tatterfield hadn't expected a good report. Certainly not one this good.

"The Kriegshields - the ones covering from bunker twenty-two through fourty-four - are down! We're getting direct hits on the hard structures!"

Had someone actually landed on target, and slain the mana-funnelling acolytes? Or was there some disruption to the Kreigshielder responsible for that section? There was no counting on the fortune lasting. At once, the Colonel animated, rushing to the nearest radio operator who had already accessed the fleet channel in anticipation.

"All guns! Shield cover from twenty-two through forty-four is down, duration unknown! Concentrate fire for effect! I want those installations turned to gravel so we can get our boys and girls off this godsdamn beach! Get it done and we'll be rolling these bastards back east by lunchtime! Execute!"

* * * * * In the Lair of the Kreigshielder...* * * * *

The enemy springs into action. The success of K'ral's shot draws fire to him directly, and one of the groups of the enemy, rushing into cover themselves amidst the panicing and wailing non-combat workers, begin pouring fire onto his position. Three seek to strike the target, but one opens up with a wild spray of submachinegun fire that cuts down two coated radio operators in its effort to lock the sniper down.

From the other side, the second 'squad' moves into cover as well. Three shots ring out toward the forward troops, while the fourth empties his own magazine blindly into the smoke.

Shot at Gamble: [roll0] for [roll1]
Shot at Ordo: [roll2] for [roll3]
Shot at O'Hara: [roll4] for [roll5]

Shot at K'Ral: [roll6] for [roll7]
Shot at K'Ral: [roll8] for [roll9]
Shot at K'Ral: [roll10] for [roll11]

Remember unless otherwise notified, you're entitled to have grabbed 3/4 (+5AC) cover, and you have temp HP from Salamir's bloody construct.

Direct Suppression on K'ral: Make a DC 14 Wisdom Save with disadvantage, or be Pinned! Submachinegunner 1 is Suppressing.

Sweeping Suppression on the folks in the smoke: Everyone who remained behind, make a DC 14 Wisdom Save or be Pinned! Submachinegunner 2 is Suppressing.

The wounded, interrupted mage, hissing with overwhelming loathing, extends his now bloodied and perforated hand as he rises to his knees, and conjures in the air before him a haze of glimmering red light. Swiftly the light coheres into the shape of a mortar shell, simulated with mystical force and quivering with suppressed motion, before it is released with a doodlebug scream to whip across the room and detonate inside the smoky hallway. The soldiers hunkering within are suddenly shrouded in a billowing cloud of choking, blinding mustard gas; a toxic relic of the continent's previous warcrimes that attacks the lungs and threatens swift death for those not quickly set to escape it. The personal shielding left by Salamir's mechanism sputters and blinks like a faint halo around each soldier, struggling against the limitations of the its magical science to filter poison from air.

The acolyte-officers burst into motion, mounting the stage to the defense of their superior. One conjours six small, fiery skulls in rapid revolution of himself; the other's casting swiftly erect a confined, vertical rush of wind between the platform and the rest of the room. The ambient rush of wind scatters and throws papers and charts all over the room; but the upward torrent of wind is incredibly powerful, creating a wall of wind in motion fencing the casters off from the main combat.

The casters are all 90ft away, outside of counterspell range if that had been a consideration. The acolytes cast the spells described with no immediate effect on the group; the Kriegshielder casts Cloudkill (or "Mustard Gas Shell Kill"? Not so snappy) on the folks within the smoky corridor. So at the start of your turns, in addition to the pinning check above, everyone in the corridor can ALSO make a Constitution save at a DC of 20, or take [roll12] poison damage, temporary Hp first. Save for half! This damage will repeat when anyone begins their turn in the corridor, or enters it for the first time in a turn; or else until the cloud is dispersed somehow.

OOC: That's the bad guys done; it's the good guy's turn. Anyone in the corridor who is able, and willing to rush into the proper room can do so with a single move action into the open, or a move and a dash into three quarters cover. Once inside, you're entitled to read the spoiler in the last post I made for room context!

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Instead of scaring off the terrified operators, he keeps low and uses them as an optical shield as he makes his way to the east side of the room (and the superior cover)

Bonus Action -> Cunning Action for Dash to make up the distance.
It is unclear if Gabriel needs to spend an extra action for stealth. (Def should be able to make the check due to Skulker feat)
Stealth Check: [roll0]

If he has his std action remaining, he is going to take a shot at the SMG2 that is sweeping the corridor.
Att: [roll1] Dmg: [roll2] Sneak attack? [roll3]

[Cavir]

Sgt Xilo

It was suddenly a very different situation than assumed before the vault door opened. Didn't matter, the new battlefield was just a forest of trees and bushes made of desks, chairs, and databanks.

Xilo called out to the enemy in half trained Kreigspiel: "Lay down and hands on head or you die!"

K'Ral close by. Ginger off to the right. Shooters to his 10. Magi to his 12 but far away. Had to get the unit moving.

"Ginger, K'ral, target the shooters!" O'Hara, fireball the stage. LT, then put Fog onto the stage?"

"The rest of you, with me. Shooters at 10 and 11. Assault the first group! Grenade if you have one. GO GO GO!"

Xilo darts forward drifting left to head towards the closer shooters while also getting a different angle on them to set up a crossfire. He takes a shot at the closer group from some cover along the way. "Ginger, now!

Intimidate check, DC 12 with advantage from lesser Kreigspiel?
[roll0] [roll1]

Single move (35' speed) towards the closer shooters, finding some cover and taking a shot.
Attack: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

Second attack: Commander's Strike: Ginger gets to take another shot with a damage bonus of [roll4]

[JbeJ275]

Unable to advance into the gunfire, and unwilling to stay in the choking fog Salamir crawled back out of the poison's area. Sparky was unable to advance but stayed at the front of the poison field, shedding another layer of shields to those nearby.


[roll0]

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc listens out for cries of the fallen or pinned in the cloying smoke briefly. Unable to hold any longer he bursts from the smoke, attempting to grab any allies needing help and drag them along with him.

Stumbling into the hall, he coughs and splutters, trying to take stock of the situation and the struggling squad.

Hey, Sal. That's almost as bad as walking over a manhole in...Sal? Dammit, he better not be dead!

He desperately flings himself towards cover, ready to leap out and get to work if needed

[MrAbdiel]

In the Hallway...

Doc, Jukebox, Catchell and Sal are buried in yellow, toxic smoke; all trying not to breathe and at once desperate for breath, bullets zipping down the hallway and pinging wildly off the walls. The world becomes a vortex of slow death, and quick death; and dodging one risks exposing oneself to the other. Doc manages to muster the miracle-courage to burst out, but Catchell, coughing wildly and bleeding from the eyes, crawls after Sal out of the gas, keeping low and close to the wall where, he reasons, the big door they blew open must be hopefully obscuring the kill-path of the pinning fire.

"Are you-" Catchell tries to ask, then coughs, puts his head down with his hand over his helmet as another burst of bullets skitters off the wall above. He tries again. "Are you -" Another coughing fit, and he gives up trying; just trying to reduce himself to the smallest possible size, or even to vanish into the stonework and be somewhere else completely. Cut off from the action, pinned down and walled off by deadly fumes, there is nothing for the boy from Hell's Parlour, and the kid from the swamps of Nova Leono but wait to die.


“Stand up!”

There comes the command, though you can barely hear it; but if the hand gestures didn’t convey the action, the rote learning would anyway. You stand up from your seat, grab a handful of railing above you or backpack of the trooper infront of you, and merge into a single file, thirty-soldier long column; like a bolt of liberty, resting in the groove of freedom’s grand crossbow.

“Hook up!”

Just like you practiced dozens of times, you take your drop line and hook it to the main anchor line running down the fuselage of the plane; the taller squad members assisting the shorter in doing so. Another WHUMP and a loud scattering of impacts on the skin of the plane; another near-miss you’ve survived.

“Sound off for equipment check!”

From the front of the plane - the back of the line - the call begins.
“One O-KAY!”
“Two O-KAY!”
“Three O-KAY!”
The familiar call echos down the line thirty times. Just before turn, you feel rustle of the trooper behind you slapping your pack, checking the drop line is properly secured and all your equipment isn’t hanging loose. You’re doing the same for the soldier in front of you when the O-KAY sounds for you, and you sound the next one in kind.
“TWENTY NINER O-KAY!”
“THIRTY O-KAY!”

And that’s it. You’re okay. All that remains is for that red light to turn green. Then the first man to jump - Sgt. Nikolai Brown, the big half orc leading 1st Squad - would shove the door load out, and go out with it. And one by one, you’d launch into the night. As soon as the light turns green.

The little kenku comes waddling out of the gas, and grabs the Tiefling and human by one sleeve each in an effort to drag them to their feet. His feathers have started to molt off spontaneously in response to the gas; he has a sicked, patchy look but remains vigorous enough since he was bombarded with healing magic and Doc's ministrations earlier. And rather than holding his breath, his beak is cracked open, and from his magical throat comes a perfect recording of the Sunday Best, with the Skyknives in her belly, preparing their jump ritual before everything went wrong. And from that memory, by bardic fiat, he calls forth the courage of young hearts before the confrontation with the reality of war, to sit within their troubled chests alongside the fear. Catchell still looks awful, but with the shielding provided by Sal's miraculous construct, he fortifies himself along with Jukebox, and prepares himself to do what Skyknives are trained to do - throw themselves blindly into the teeth of danger and death, for the good of Amcara, and all the world.

Jukebox didn't get pinned! So he's come back down the corridor, and cast Heroism on Catchell and Sal. Both are immune to fear now, and therefor also pinning. They gain some temporary HP, but nothing compared to the construct, so don't worry about that. Sal, you also gain Bardic Inspiration (d6). I'll give all three boys advantage to their saves against the Cloudkill as they hold their breath, if you're going to rush out of there this turn!

In the Schildkammer...

K'ral is pinned by the enemy gunner, and barely manages to pop off a shot back, hitting his opposite number's shoulder but not with the killing precision that he is use to. But at Sgt. Xilo's call, Pvt Ginger takes a shot of his own from cover that catches the soldier in the top of the helmet, sloping through the skull and perforating out at the base of the spine; and between them the two marksmen eradicate that threat. With Ordo and the Lt's own shots pinging off the cover around the other submachine gunner, Pvt Gamble howls his warrior enthusiasm and dashes across the bulletfilled space, bat in one hand, .45 in the other, closing to melee with the Kreiger and making him rethink his pinning decisions, as well as numerous others in his life.

"Negative on the Fog Cloud, Sergeant! That Windwall won't stop me conjouring it, but it'll eat it up, and I've only got one left. If we can shake the concentration on its caster...", speculates the diminutive Lt.

And with that, O'hara's fireball rips through the air and detonates in an airburst over the stage! The flames scorch all three casters, with both acolytes looking considerably worse for wear. But while the one preparing his minute barrage loses concentration on his incantation, neither the Kreigshielder or his foremost acolyte lose a grip on their mustard-gas cloud or windwall, respectively.

"Damn."

Cpl. Eugene 'Wolf' Vognar, then, makes his move; dashing along the right flank of the enemy and opening up with a wide, but not wild spread of fire from his own automatic weapon. The Kreigers shriek and take cover; and the six of them that are still upright, and not currently engaged with Gamble, are all within the punishing arc of his pinning.

The one poor schmuck engaged with Gamble makes a run for it, toward the somewhat protected stage. But his gait isn't what it should be, with Xilo's bullet in his hip; and the goliath's bat comes crashing down on the back of his head, caving in his helmet and the skull beneath. to Sgt Xilo, for reasons only he can explain, this is one of the most inspiring acts of brutality he has ever seen.

On the stage, the Kreigshielder restarts his arcane ministrations and the lambent violet runes begin dancing and churning again. Both lesser casters space out - they don't want to be caught in another fireball - and begin their castings anew. The one who had lost his spell conjours up a retinue of mirror images that swim through and around his location, quickly spoofing his precise position to sighters. The other, maintaining his windwall, hunkers low to the stage's floor, trying to minimize his profile!

Gamble reduced an enemy to 0 with his attack of opportunity, and used his Inspiration to immediately frightened all the enemies that can see him within 30ft which, using the abstract range banding I'm using right now, is all 6 of the remaining Kreig troopers. I made some assumptions about player actions based on the OOC - but I think they captured what everyone was intended to do! Ginger had to use his action to stealth, so wasn't able to shoot; but with Xilo's command, got to use his sneak attack for the turn anyway, focusing on K'ral's target and X-ing it out. Doc, sadly, with heavy obscurement from the Cloudkill, there's no reasonably way for you to find anyone, let alone drag 'em; so you went forward, they went back. If you want, I'll let you use your held action to heal yourself as part of the last turn before you decide how to act on this one.
Wolf was indeed able to suppress just about everyone - the soldiers, and a lot of wet-pantsed Kreig-geeks, too. So with all the remaining nearby enemies afraid of Gamble and pinned by Wolf, they're all going to spend this action to Dodge, as is the windwall mage!

It's your guys' turns! Both of the gunners who were pinning people are dead - but the folks behind the gas don't know that. But they are filled with Heroism!

[JbeJ275]

"Jukebox, you're the damn best around. Let's get this done. COME ON YOU SONS OF BITCHES!! DO YOU WANNA LIVE FOREVER!!!"

As Sal lets out a this roar he plunges through the hellish smoke once again, dashing through in one held breadth and desperately trying to resist the acid and poison eating away at his eyes and mouth as the hellscape of smoking death swirls around him.

Sparky, now back clambering onto his arm and wrapping around it once more projects it's shields around those rushing through the gas, restoring the shields around the head to hold some amount of air even as the past shields are eaten away at by the caustic smog.


[roll0]

[Cavir]

Sgt Xilo

"Right on target O'Hara! Send another if you can. Good shots K'Ral and Ginger."

He sees the skyknives coming out of the poisonous gas. "Nice of you to join us out here!"

"Wolf, keep those dogs hugging the ground. Doc, K'ral, Ordo, come cover them."

"Can't shoot the mages from here. Assault! Gamble, those mage heads will pop even better, Go! Juke and Ginger up the right side. The rest up the center. Blow the stage from under their feet if you can. Weekend pass for each dead mage. GO!"

Xilo moves up and to the left, threatening the pinned enemy from their unprotected flank in a cross fire with Wolf. "Surrender!" Once others move up to him, he hurries to join Gamble in rushing the stage.

Inspiration to Wolf and Gamble. 50% chance of inspiring someone else [roll0] (succeed on a 2). DM decides who.

If the pinned soldiers turn to shoot at me, I'll shoot twice, taking out one from each group if possible.
Attack1 [roll1] Damage [roll2]
Attack2 [roll3] Damage [roll4]

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral pokes out of cover, taking a shot at one of the soldiers hunkering down from Wolf’s automatic fire.
Aiming and firing at a krieg soldier
To Hit: [roll0] [roll1] [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]
Sneak Attack: [roll4]

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc fished out a hip flask containing the dregs of hangover cure 7, mixed it with his emergency 'gin' tot, and sprinkled in some of his remaining nightginger. He shuddered briefly after drinking, with the faintest hint of mustard coloured steam coming out of his ears and nostrils.

Whew! I don't rate mustard as an ingredient, but there isn't a cocktail in the world that I can't stomach. Especially not one mixed by you Nevega convention breaking scoundrels!

Hearing the Sarge's orders, he runs forwards, dropping behind some cover and preparing to cover Wolf as he keeps up the pressure on the Kriegers, all the while he whispering to himself.

Stay down, just stay down, damn you!

Doc heals himself then rushes 25' forwards to some cover, hiding behind it. Peering out, he readies an action to shoot the first soldier to stand up and try to return fire at Wolf.

Stealth [roll0]

Attack roll [roll1] and if he has advantage from hiding [roll2]
Damage [roll3] plus possible sneak attack [roll4]

Edit: A crit! That's an extra 13 damage from doubled dice values.

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger goes up the right side as ordered. Instead of taking a shot at the mages and drawing extra attention, he casts mage hand. Just about close enough to cause some real problems for those mages.

[Continental Op]

Wolf nods to the Sarge and grins, unconsciously a little savage. He focuses on the two groups of hiding soldiers, and continues laying down suppressing fire.

[MrAbdiel]

The lumbering tortle Pvt O'Hara trudges up in the path blazed by Pvt Gamble, and with a triumphant shout, musters his strength to fling another, final fireball; sparks of divine wrath coalescing around the barrel of his light machine gun, and then expelling toward the enemy in a killing arc, like a rifle-launched grenade. But he's close enough now that the mage duel has become more complex - the apprentice Kreigmage, surrounded by a flurry of his own visual duplicates, rakes a hand through the air, and the ball dissipates into smoke as it concludes his arc, failing to detonate.

O'hara moves up and casts fireball; but it gets counterspelled!

Lt. Bathory rushes up to the cover vacated by the man Gamble has just killed, and ducks behind the cover; preserving her precious spell slots, and snapping off shot sidelong with her pistol at one of the pinned enemies. Her incendiary round hits a hunkering soldier on the top of his barely visible helmet, spinning it up and off his head. When he jerks in surprise and claps a hand on his head, K'ral's bullet thwips neatly through his forehead, killing him instantly. Cpl. 'Wolf' continues to blaze away with his suppressing fire at the enemy, providing a chance for Xilo to flank; but the demand for surrender is met with hard eyed zealoty, and panic fire. Xilo's own snapshot punches through the meat of one soldier's thigh, but the three crouching behind databanks hiding from Wolf's wrath on that side of the field return fire at Xilo. Panicked as they are, their shots go wide; as do a pair at Gamble's back as the lunatic hoons pasty, vaulting over desks and databanks in great leaping strides, finally launching himself up onto the stage and through the buffeting windwall to the other side, putting him right up against the startled Kreigmage who had just conjoured his doubles. And a good thing for him, too; as Gamble's two heaving swings of his bat puff through and scatter two of the three false images, leaving the mage staggering back.

K'ral's shot hits, and almost did enough damage to kill outright; but the enemy dodged last turn, denying him advantage. The Lt's shot finished him off, though.

Wolf is indeed able to use his action to continue suppressing all the targets he is suppressing. He has his move and bonus, which I'm happy to be bootstrapped on to next turn! Xilo's enemy, honourably offered a chance, respond with cowardly gunfire. Strictly speaking, Xilo had to prepare an action to shoot if the enemy moved to fight, which entitles him to a single attack, and not a full attack action. So the one round hits, and wounds an enemy; and all the counterfire goes wide because the enemy are crapping their pants presently from two sources of fear.

Gamble has enough move to climb onto the state and start swinging. He hits twice, both illusions.

In response, the mage curls his fingers, and scintilating force arcs between them, conjouring up a lightning bolt he clearly intends to hurl -through- Gamble, and down the line past O'Hara, several screaming clerks, and perhaps more of the squad. But this time, Lt. Bathory reaches up and counter-casts; and the spell comes apart in the Kreiger's hands with a puff of blue sparks, and a sound like a squeaking, poorly timed fart.

The acolyte on Gamble's side attempts a lightning bolt, but Lt Bathory counterspells!

The second acolyte, alarmed at how quickly Gamble has closed the gap, nontheless has the presence of mind to forsake his ally, and focus his efforts down range. His lightning bolt goes off, ripping across the middle of the battlefield; shearing through the place where Ordo is crouching for cover, and raking over Xilo, as well as through some unlucky desk jockeys, and badly electrocuting one of the men Xilo is trying to force a surrender from! The paladin Ordo collapses, shuddering behind the scorched cover; alert, but badly injured.

The acolyte on the otherside flings a lightning bolt. It catches Ordo badly, leaving him just upright; and he spends his turn dodging and hunkering in cover. It badly damages another soldier on Xilo's side - that's two with injury and one uninjured over there, for those keeping track - and Xilo needs to make a Dexterity Save DC 15 or take 31 lightning damage, save for half. Three clerks and non-combat personel are also killed.

At the back of the field, Jukebox, Catchell, and Sal come staggering out of the smoke. Jukebox seems to be holding it together, mostly; but Catchell hacks up a mouthful of gore; blood streaming from his eyes, skin pale as paper as he takes over. He clutches his cupped hands infront of him, making wheezing chokes, staring down into the blood and shreds of what might be lung tissue. And then the Kreigshielder, while continuing his work, casts a fireball over his shoulder with such lazy contempt that he does not even look for its direction. It sails through the air, through the centre of the field, into the yellow smoke and detonates with a calamitous BANG in the hallway. This combination - suppress with gas, barrage with spellfire - might be extremely effective. It certainly would have killed anyone who had remained in the corridor.

The gas does 20 damage this turn, Constitution Save DC 20 for half, Salamir, as you rush through it. Jukebox succeeds, so he seems alright; but Catchell has failed both this and the last round of the stuff, and he's only held together because of Sparky's efforts.
He's extremely badly hurt. He spends his turn double-moving through the gas and out the otherside, as does Jukebox, just in time to avoid the fireball that was going to be targetted there anyway!

Finally, some of the enemy soldiers begin to recover from their suppression; although, admittedly, aren't having the time of their lives exactly. And in all the chaos, no one on the stage pays heed to the spectral hand conjured in their midst...

Enemies:

Acolyte 1: Singed. Pressed by Gamble. 1 Mirror Image Remaining.
Acolyte 2: Also singed. Unengaged. Concentrating on Windwall.
Kreigshielder: Concentrating on The Kreigshield. Seems mildly injured, mostly annoyed.

Goons on the right: One pinned. One saves off his pinning. Two dead.
Goons on the left: One badly electrocuted, and pinned. One mildly shot, and pinned. One just now unpinned.

Various mooks: desperate; screaming. Not providing direct opposition, but definitely creating more trauma.

Ginger summons a mage hand on the mage stage!

Finally, K'ral is inspired by Doc's hardy display of immunity to the gas; Ginger is inspired by Xilo's take-charge attitude. If I missed anything, let me know!

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger seeming to be overlooked by the krieg mages, and glad for it, is now close enough for some mage hander trickery. He takes a look for explosives on the targets, but finding nothing he does the civil thing and donates one. Minus 1 pin naturally.


Slight of Hand [roll0]

[Waistcoatwill]

Amidst the stinking gas, explosions, and roar of gunfire, something snaps within Doc. Many of his allies have been badly injured by these maniacs and he has got to at least try to stop it.

With a wordless scream he pulls out his scalpel and lunges out of cover and across the room, sprinting for the mages and leaping through the buffeting winds. At the last minute he sees a floating grenade and tries to vear away. Half-blindly, he swings away at the knee of the nearest mage, hoping to at least distract them.

Move and bonus action dash to go 50' up towards the mages. If that doesn't get him far enough he'll use his action for another dash.

He starts off running at the wind wall mage, but will try not to get caught in Ginger's blast if he can. If he ends up next to the wind wall acolyte or the Kriegshielder he'll try to attack them.

[roll0] for [roll1] damage.

[JbeJ275]

"Catchall, get to cover and keep your head down, stop the staffers trashing all this stuff if you can but I don't want you attracting attention. Jukebox with me, we can't let that Krieger get another spell like that off. And thanks man, you're a lifesaver."

This last line was a bloody mouthed cough, as the last on the inhaled poison was spat from Sal's lungs with a glob of blood and bile. Then he ran forward through the now emptry lanes of fire, stopping 65ft away from the kriegshielder and slotting an energy pack into the underbarrel on his hellfire rifle. Then an orb of compressed gas shoots out from the end of his rifle, carrying through the wind wall undisturbed and breaking apart just under the kriegshilder while also tearing at the raised stage under his feet. All the while Sparky continues to hum, replacing the faded broken shield that helf off the gas for those previous moments.


Big bad mage takes [roll0] damage or half on a succesful DC 16 Con save. Sal and those near him get [roll1] Temp HP.

[Cavir]

Having dodged the lightning bolt and the plan moving forward, Sgt Xilo joins the stage assault counting on those behind him to keep the soldiers busy. He darts towards the stage with elven speed. Just shy of the stage he leaps forwards into the wind wall which helps keep him aloft just a little bit further. It's enough to reach the duplicated acolyte that Gamble is engaged with. Xilo lands on his feet with the bayonet on the end of his M1 being thrust down into what is probably just a magical image. Xilo expects this and continues his attack with a 3/4 spin that powers a stabby jab into the other adjacent mage. "Gamble, get the big guy, I'll finish this one."


Attack 1 [roll0]
Damage [roll1]

Attack 2 [roll2]
Damage [roll3]

[Continental Op]

Wolf seems content (dare I say happy?) to keep up his fire on the Kriegers. Having those soldiers attack the team's back could be disastrous, so Wolf keeps firing at any of them that he can see. But he may be slowing down on the suppression, depending on how much ammo he has left.

[MrAbdiel]

The Skyknives begin their assault on the stage. It's no picnic - the second desperate charge into the hellfire of enemy action some of them have faced today, and not a little dangerous. Lightning bolts flashing, mustard gas and fire billowing, the entire room begins to gain enough dispersed smoke and toxin that it stings the eyes just to keep them open. Yet on they go; mad as hatters; and such madness may be what wins the war, in the end.

Sgt. Xilo vaults up on the stage, clearing the height in a long legged leap through the windwall that throws his air around and delivers him a critical extra inch or two; a display of such elven élan that, were the Skyknives not fighting desperately for their lives, they would each be very impressed indeed. One thrust of the bayonet catches the last mirror image of his opponent in the chest, dissipating it. The officer-magus is forced to throw up his hands to catch the falling barrel of Xilo's weapon which threatens to slash its bayonet into his next; and a contest of strength follows with the Kreiger stepping back, wincing, white knuckle holding back the insistent, downward angle of the Sgt's bayonet towards his chest. Then Doc is there, in a blur; dropping to one knee on it between the enemy officer-magus's legs, with a movement so swift it appears to be just a blur of army green and a wink of surgical sharp steel. Blood gushes down his inner left thigh, turning the grey fabric to red-black so swiftly, his imminent departure from this world seems almost supernaturally expedited. Not fast enough, as he looks down at what would certainly have been a mortal wound, the bloodloss drains the strength from his arms, and the elven sergeant overpowers him, forcing the bayonet past the protestation of the Kreiger's failing arms, through his breastbone, through heart, grooving the side of his second thorassic vertebrae and, following through as the mage sinks backwards, through an inch and a half of hardwood floor, nailing him to the ground upon which he died.

Between Doc's sneak attack and Xilo's double stab, one magus is down!

On the other side of the stage, Pvt. Ginger softballs a grenade from one hand, to the second, and then to his third, most magical hand; which ferries it gently behind the protective curve of the windwall. Salamir storms to the front of the stage just as the grenade goes off, hurling shrapnel in greivous shards all up the mage's left side. It's a testiment to the Kreiger's discipline that even this does not disrupt his concentration enough to break the Windwall. Yet there are shards of that grenade's payload that might have saved his life, if they had spun on their natural course and struck Pvt. Salamir on his approach; and those shards are instead caught up in the windwall and thrown vertically to scatter and ping off the ceiling, harmlessly. The Teifling is left at premium range to release the shatter spell; and when it impacts the officer-magus, he lets out a pained and awful shriek, releasing a plume of blood from his mouth and fragments of bursting teeth. When he hits the ground, extremely dead, he does so like bladder of fluid; the mushy, deflated shape of him as uncanny as it is gory, with all his bones wracked to pieces.

Between Ginger's frag-curveball and Sal's shatter, the second magus is down!

The windwall dies down, and K'ral takes his shot: it smacks square into the centre of the ghoulish Kreigshielder's back, and the figure totters, the magical glyphs stuttering and shifting on his great arcane work, but returning to motion in short order. But with the fall of the off-sider mages, it's on for young and old. The Lieutenant blazes away from her cover; O'hara's LMG chatters a wagging line of divinely infused ammunition; Gamble rushes in and swings recklessly with his bat; Jukebox scrambles awkwardly onto the stage and bangs off a short from his kneeling position at point blank. Some of it connects; some of it even seems to find purchase; and the supernaturally toughened foe is forced to hunker somewhat under the assault - though the fact that this is all the fusillade produces is both frustrating and alarming.

O'hara's Sacred Flame is resisted; the LT misses; Gamble misses once, and hits for 14 damage the next time; Jukebox hits with a shot for 6 damage. The monsterous Kreigshielder seems highly resistant, but not immune, to such damages. He has begun to look more than trivially injured. K'ral takes his shot (I rolled a crit for him. :( and deals a whopping 43 damage, but the blighter passed his concentration save on his effort to get the Shield back up and running, so he continues his work.

At the entrance of the room, Ordo pushes painfully to his feet and bangs off two wild, off-target shots at the two Kreigsoldat remaining on his side of the conflict. The return effort is calamitous: one of the soldiers who had broken pinning picks up on the spacing in Wolf's bursts, and makes a mad rush from his cover to Ordo's. Both men go down in the collusion, but Ordo fails to fend his attacker off; jitters from the lightning bolt tweaking and spasming his muscles and giving the soldat room to slam his knife home into the paladin's guts. He sprawls backwards with a roar of frustration that peels off into a wail of mortal despair; ruined and dying, his defeater kneeling over him, knife in hand.

Ordo fires twice at the enemy soldiers and misses twice; one charges him, hits, and does 7 damage, taking him to 0. He's dying, and at the mercy of the enemy soldier above him.

Three other soldiers and pinned, and cannot find their aim on Wolf while keeping their heads down; bullets zing by the feral corporal, missing their mark. But it's enough cover for the final soldier to make his own rush, bayonet first, and makes and wild lunge as Wolf's submachinegun betrays him, and clicks dry.

Three pinned soldiers shoot and miss Wolf. One unpins at the end of this turn.
The other two will unpin at the end of next turn, when it's clear Wolf is out of ammo. The second unpinned soldier charges Wolf, and gives him a good old stab - 22 to hit, for 10 piercing.

As the situation with the rearguard starts to reverse, some of the support staff choose the worst time to find their courage. A group of three men and a woman fall on Catchell, kicking and striking with clumsy fists; one wrestling for his gun as he tries, bloody-eyed and coughing, to fend them off. He cries out, but behind a veil of white coats and charcoal grey dress uniforms, he falls silent.

Catchell rises from prone to a crouch, and dodges. Despite this, four limp-wristed geeks flail at him hard enough to take him to 0. He's unconscious, dying, and at their mercy.

Looking back over his shoulder, sneering with fury and eyes flickering with wicked purple light, the Kreigshielder whips a hand back behind himself, and in doing so, scatters a hideous wave of necrotic energy that roils out, bleaching life from the swarm of attacks on the stage! With no living allies there, he has nothing to lose; and spares a fraction of his power in a last ditch effort to clear the board of interlopers!

Everyone on the stage (Xilo, Doc, Gamble, Jukebox) are exposed to this Disrupt Life attack. Make a DC 18 Constitution save, or take 17 Necrotic damage, half on success. Gamble succeeds, and bulls on contently. Jukebox fails, and the attack once again strips off his shield, and causes him a remnant of suffering.

[JbeJ275]

Sal initially seems deadset on taking down the shielder, but the sound gurgling and spluttering from Catchell has him turn. With a frustrated growl Sal jams a clip of Phelengtos rounds into his rifle, then begins opening fire on those troops remaining in the rear of the room. One directed at Ordo's attacker, another at one of them men beating on Catchell, the third whipping towards the soldier currently pressing their advantage against wolf. All of these rounds show streaks of burning blackness, shooting across the room with all the hate of the hellpits they were mined from.

Once these bullets expended he wastes no time running to Catchell, awash in demonic flame from head to toe he dives at any remaining support staff, screaming an infernal curse and trying to drive these cowards off before they can do further harm to Catchell.


Ordo's attacker: [roll0] for [roll1] + [roll2]
Wolf's attacker: [roll3] for [roll4]
Catchell's attacker: [roll5] for [roll6]

Intimidate on the Support staff: [roll7]

[Waistcoatwill]

The wave of necrotic energy repels Doc, making him turn away from the Kriegshielder for a moment. He doesn't need his fine-honed surgeons senses to notice two of his allies down and under imminent threat.

Following in Sal's wake initially, he soon passes his comrades as his time on the track and field team pats dividends. His smack talk never had much effect back then, but he gives it a try anyway.

Hey! You! Schweinhunt! Get off our pal Ordo! I'm gonna make schnitzel out of you!

He closes on the Krieger standing above Ordo, brandishing his bloody scalpel and pointing with his left hand. At the same time he activates the Skyknife ring, focusing its healing energy on Catchell

Move and dash action to run 50 feet towards Ordo's assailant.

Bonus action healing word from the Skyknife ring to heal Catchell for [roll0] hp.

[Cavir]

Sgt Xilo

Thanks to the help of Doc's deft slicing, the bayonet penetrated the Kreiger's defenses, all the way through the enemy and into the floor. Xilo didn't bother wriggling the bayonet back out. He left the M1 right where it was, a temporary grave marker. "Sal, Sparky could be real useful up here!"

Instead the elven sergeant draws his family sword as he rushes at the Kreigshielder. An upward diagonal left to right slash of the Kreigshielder's back, another step to get just past the mage, then with a twist of his wrists and a spinning turn toward the Kreigshielder another slash, this time downward right to left. The Kreigshielder would have to deal with the Skyknife's dancing sword in front of him if the Kreigshielder tried to continue focus on the mission to defend the beach.

Moving to be just past the mage so that a directional spell can't hit us all at once. Two attacks with the sword.
Attack1: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Attack2: [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Seeing that 2 of the four have been rebuffed by the Kriegshielder, that is where he directs his efforts.

As the Sgt makes his attack, Ginger uses the distraction to find a suitable optical barrier, and snipe his target.


Bonus Action hide [roll0]

Attack [roll1] Dmg [roll2] Sneak attack [roll3]

[Continental Op]

Wolf is surprised by the bayonet, but the shield from Sal's creature deflects the blow without major consequences besides the new hole in his shirt. He then lets go of the M1, trusting the strap to keep it by his side for when he has time to reload. But the more immediate need is the Krieger; Wolf snarls "Not today!" in the Krieger's face and pulls his M1911 .45 sidearm. He plugs the soldier in the chest until he goes down.

Wolf does take the 10 damage from the bayonet, but it was all temp HP so I thought it would make sense in game terms if Sparky's effect "deflected" the attack.

Using his re-skinned hand crossbow, Wolf makes three attacks (b/c of Crossbow Expert):
Attack1: [roll0] and damage: [roll1]
Attack2: [roll2] and damage: [roll3]
Attack3: [roll4] and damage: [roll5]

If the Krieger goes down, Wolf will use his move action to get closer to the other Krieger soldiers who were recently pinned. Any left-over attacks would go to them, if Wolf can see any with half-cover or less.

[MrAbdiel]

In a storm of boots and fists, Catchell receives the healing energy from Doc's Skyknife ring and wakes with a gagging cry. Salamir's threat seems not to find its mark - the situation is desperate enough the combating non-combatants are making snap decisions - but following through on that threat helps, as one of the labcoated attackers staggers away, wailing, covered in deadly hellfire. O'Hara turns from his efforts in the assault and releases a prayer of sanctuary over the beleaguered lad; and between violent threat and supernatural aid, the mob thumping Catchell disperses with gabbling howls of fright.

Doc heals Catchell back to conciousness. Salamir's intimidate doesn't quite do it; but between killing one, and O'hara throwing a Sanctuary on Catchell, the remaining geeks scatter, ceasing once more to be an active, hostile force in the fight.
There's a chance that some more of them will find the heart to fight and give it a shot - but the only way to deter that possibility is having someone constantly browbeating them to keep out of the way, or to start executing them. Otherwise, you're trusting they'll accept their fate, which is less than a sure thing.

Cpl. Eugene "Wolf" carries on his duel with the soldier that rushed him. For a moment, the soldat manages to get his hand under Wolf's wrist and holds the pistol up and away from a straight shot, straining against the reversed situation with the weapon in his other hand. But he's forced to duck as one of Sal's hellfire rounds rips overhead, and in that moment of distraction Wolf is free to twist, pull the trigger, and sink a bullet through the top of his enemy's shoulder, down into the cavity of his chest - with two more after for good measure, kicking away the slackened enemy and rushing over to the remnant enemy squad. Still shaken by the gunfire that pinned them and not keen to meet the fate of their brave friend, they throw down their guns, and tentatively raise their hands.

The second round from Sal's attack misses the mark, but all three of Wolf's rounds hit and execute his opponent. The two Kreigsoldat he rushes to engage appear to be surrendering!

Doc, scalpel in hand, faces off against the soldier standing over Ordo's unconcious form. This close, the halfling can see the calculation in the enemy's eyes. The healing spell fired across to rescue Catchell from death has alarmed him - standing over a fallen but not dead enemy, he realizes he is fighting one Amcaran, and if he delays, he is likely to be fighting two. He makes a feigning jab towards Doc to put him back on his heels, but then plunges downward, with an executioner's stroke towards Ordo, seeking to remove him from the fight entirely. The soldat has not, however, correctly conceived his situation - he is already fighting more than one enemy. The right side of his body erupts in testament to Salamir's infernal marksmanship; and when it seems he will survive that long enough to follow through on his profane intention, K'ral's bullet crosses the width of the room, punches in one shoulder and out the other in a freakishly clean penetration, and he flops to the side, dead. For the moment, Ordo is safe.

This moment passes quickly. The last soldier on that side of the field, having earlier recovered from the shock of sustained fire, has made the same calculations as he predecessor. He charges forth, bayonet first, and veers away from Doc at the last moment, dipping the point of the weapon to stab into Ordo's stomach before whipping it upward in a guarding slash at the halfling!

A lot of action over here. The enemies that remain wise up to the healing magic, and stop counting downed opponents as out opponents. Between K'Ral's shot and one of Salamir's scorching rays, the enemy that put Ordo down is killed - but another Kreigsoldat, the last upright enemy soldier (discounting the two who appear to be surrendering to Wolf) - charges Ordo's downed body, and strikes him. Attacking a downed opponent in melee is an automatic critical hit, which equals two failed death saves. After which, he is required to roll another, which I'll hide behind this helpful spoiler tag.[roll0] Edit: Hahaha, would you look at that? Ordo recovers 1 HP spontaneously and regains conciousness; but he's going to play possom. He's going to use the help action for Doc to attack the guy, giving advantage as he suddenly grabs his would-be killer's leg, as if the stab has some how invigorated him.

The Lt. looks accusingly at her sidearm, and holsters it. Her contribution of violence came from her spells, most of which are exhausted; but her ability to help the effort has not ended. She rushes up, hunkering against the front of the stage, and reaches out with her mind, attempting to reave intel from the enemy's mind while she has a chance. Jukebox waddles into combat alongside Xilo and Gamble. He's not a natural fighter - he's a soldier, plain and simple, and he pokes and lunges with the exact, unmodified bayonet drills everyone was taught. They prove ineffective as the Kreigshielder bats the blade away, with an open palm. Xilo's skill finds an opening, after a feinting strike; driving the a bayonet between the ribs of the ghastly officer in what would have been a killing strike on a lesser opponent. On this one - a concerted annoyance, one that is added to the accumulation. It's Gamble's battering that makes the difference, for the moment; one blow thumping meaninglessly off the enemy's shoulder, but the backhand swing striking its head with a satisfying crack that knocks the hat off its head, reveally the full, tight-skin-skull face with its sunken red eyes, and wisps of decaying hair. The blow seems to have displaced a flap of skin, which now droops lazilly from its dry bone base down over one cheek. Finally, with this sustained assault, the Kreigshielder gives up trying to ignore the squad; he turns both hands from the incantation wall, and the matrix of runic images there halt, and dim. Now, finally, your enemy turns his attention entirely to you.

Another pulse of draining energy races out, striking everyone on the stage. Jukebox slips the worst of it, but the accumulation of suffering is mounting on him, and the feathered fighter is rapidly wearing down again. Gamble bulls through this drain like the last, only to receive backhand blow from the caster that throws droplets of the goliath's freezing blood in a spray as he staggers back. The bruiser is mighty, and tough; but damage being heaped on him from these non-physical vectors is mounting; and he, too, is beginning to look worse for wear. Lt. Bathory yelps and hisses, the necrotic wave washing over her, stinging but not badly injuring.

The enemy is proving hard to damage, but not invincible; and almost completely devoid of allies, the question seems to become not whether he can be overcome, but will he exact a cost for his downfall?

Gamble crits again, once again inspiring Xilo! I think I'll make 'You can have an extra inspiration but you must be down to 1 max at the end of your turn' standard, because of the extra inspiring stuff we have. So if that puts Xilo up to 2, that's fine for the moment. Bathory uses Detect Thoughts, but she'll need another turn before she gets to roll to get anything juicy.

The Kreigshielder ceases trying to manage the shield. He's turning all his attention to the squad now. He uses his legendary action to create another necrotic wave (DC 18 Con save for Xilo, or take 21 Necrotic damage, Save for half). He uses his action to make a paralyzing touch attach at Gamble. Gamble beats the DC so he's not paralyzed, but he still takes a gob of cold damage, and is looking pretty rough.

Enemies:

1 Defiant Kreigsoldat, presently in melee with Doc, in the midfield, standing over the critically injured and possibly dead Pvt. Ordo.
2 Surrendering Soldat, now unpinned, at Cpl Wolf's mercy.

1 Kreigshielder, very resistant to damage but now beginning to look haggard, and angry.

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc screams in fury and disgust at the Krieger appearing to murder Ordo in front of him. With his free hand he whips out one of his "combat cocktails", rolls through the Krieger's legs, and stabs it into Ordo's thigh.

If the lad was still this side of the veil, the blend of adrenaline and poppy extract should have him back on his feet, if only briefly. Either way, Doc was seeing red and the Krieger had to pay!

Here's your free laparotomy, see how you like you murdering schmuck!

Doc uses his bonus action to use his med kit on Ordo to bring him back up to 1hp if he's still alive.

He slashes with his scalpel.

[roll0] for [roll1] piercing damage plus [roll2] if Ordo is still alive/now on 1hp.

If the Krieger is somehow taken out, or if Ordo is clearly dead, then after that he'll use his move to head 25' back towards the stage where the will no doubt be more folk in need of his care soon enough.

[JbeJ275]

Sal hauls Catchell to his feet as the labcoated Vulkers turn tail, and presses a syringe into the muscles of his thigh, jamming down the plunger hard as army drugs flush into the soldier's system to help him keep fighting. Over the barking sound of gunfire he shouts to Catchal. "Shoot, the Krieger" gesturing with his head and horns to the ongoing knifefight Doc and Ordo were engaged in, all the while staying between Catchell and his previous attackers, and moving steadily towards the stage to ensure he could still direct Sparky.

The construct itself continued its journey towards the stage, though it remained too far to shed its barriers on anyone in the melee with the Kriegshielder at this moment.


Catchell is healed for [roll0]

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Continues to take measured shots at the shielder. His concentration has got to break at some point.

Att [roll0] Dmg: [roll1]

Stealth if needed [roll2]

Sneak attack potentially [roll3]

[Cavir]

Sgt Xilo

Under normal circumstances, this would be an unfair fight. A skilled swordsman against an at-first-glance unarmed opponent. Even more unfair with three armed soldiers against this one enemy. This enemy wasn't helpless and is the key to the success of the whole invasion. This is war, not a duel. Fairness is not a factor.

"This is it Skyknives! Everything you've got and we'll save those grunts on the beach! Jukebox, hit'em low. Gamble, use his head for a home run through the wall!"

For his part, Xilo shifts his body slightly back and down as he brings his longsword down heavily through the Kreigshielder's wrist. Hard to cast when missing a hand. Doubly so missing both hands, but one strike at a time.

Inspiration point to Gamble and Jukebox.
Commander's Strike for Gamble to hit again. + [roll0] damage
Inspiration point for my own attack.

Using his family longsword, since the M1 is back sticking through the acolyte and into the floor.
Longsword: [roll1] or [roll2]
Damage: [roll3]

EDIT: Well, those were horrible damage rolls.

[Continental Op]

Wolf stares at the two Kriegers, his pistol pointed between them. Despite his obvious heritage, he does not speak the language. He struggles to tell them to back up away from their rifles and against the wall. "Away...wall" More to himself, he says, "Crap, why didn't I listen to Grandad more? What is Krieger for back up?" He motions with his pistol for them to go backwards.

When they have a little distance from their rifles, Wolf risks a quick glance at the room to see how the rest of the squad is faring. He turns back to the two soldiers, making sure they are not trying anything. Between Gabe's shots, he yells "Surrender! (Aufgeben?)...Damn it, can anyone tell the Kriegers we are taking prisoners?!"

The italics is for Wolf trying to speak Krieger.

[MrAbdiel]

In the backfield...|

With Wolf keeping his wary eyes on his prisoners, neither of them plucks up the courage to be a hero; and with a loaded weapon pointed at them, they make no desperate dive like their thrice-shot companion.

Doc makes his double-move; scalpel slashing up swiftly and opening a bloody, final wound up the last fighting soldier's abdomen, abdominal muscles slit and snapping, and he topples over backward without so much as trying to dodge. The syringe in the other hand jamming into Ordo's thigh. The reaction is immediate - too immediate, in fact. Ordo, now that Doc has a second to glance at him, appears to have made his own way back to conciousness moments before, and has snared the enemy soldat's ankle in his rictus grip, making him that much easier for Doc to finish. The blast of revival fluid into his system makes his eyes bulge and he wheezes as his heart and lungs go wild; but at least he's stable, and in the Doc's best estimation, will pull through if there's no additional stabbing.

Catchell, wiping blood from his eyes and coughing as the additional healing magic has drawn him back from the brink of death, is too far to hear the sergeant's rally call clearly; but he hears the Sal's directive, and that's enough. He fumbles for his gun, racks the bolt with his bloodslick hands, and forces himself to a weary crouch.

On Stage...

Jukebox jabs with his fruitless but valiant thrusts; the Kreigshielder begins ignoring his attacks, and the little corvid is delighted to land a strike in the desiccated meat of the enemy's thigh - to no effect, robbing the kenku of his pride. But with the extra encouragement from the elven sergeant ringing in his ears, Gamble storms on, a living battering ram; missing once, blocked once, and then finally clocking the Kreiger's scalp again so hard than bone chips fly. In that opening, Xilo is free to make his own lunge; though the husk of the enemy presents no traditional vital points for the sophisticated elven killing thrust that has made their swordsmen the envy of the fencing world. His cuts run shallow; the melee effort not enough to put down the malefic mage.

Another contemptuous flick of the hand, another pulse of necrotic energy, and the Kreigshielder returns to the offensive. This time, the wave is telling. Lt. Bathory cries out but holds her invasive spell, with desperation. Jukebox throws himself backward, but clipped by the deadly power, his defensive roll turns into a slack tumble, and he lies in a crumpled patchy heap of wounds and feathers on one side of the stage. Even Gamble, who has been eating bullets and farting shrapnel since he crawled out of the Naphto surf, takes finally just too much wicked energy; and with a stiff armed, staggering swing the enemy easilly sidesteps, his huge body collapses to the boards of the stage with clap like a gunshot. But with the melee force repelled, the rest of the squad is free to fire. K'ral and Ginger's shots fly from their perches; Ohara opens up with a streamer of bright rounds from his LMG; even Catchell pops off a round down the field at the necrotic magus. It's hard to know which bullets strike and which do not, but the sustained fire, with promise only to gain additional firers, begins to hammer against the magus's frame, punching holes through his longcoat, throwing plumes of dust and black gore out the back of him. Angry - no, perhaps irritated - the magus looks around amidst this storm of lead as a normal man might peer determinedly through horizontal rain. He touches his temple with a grimace, glances briefly to the Dhampir at the edge of the stage, and then finally to Sgt Xilo, picking his moments to harry and slice at the enemy without getting in the fire lanes. Sickly green light begins accruing in the magus' palm, and the fingers of his right hand shift; pinking and ring folding to the palm, middle and index pointing ahead, thumb straight up.

"No!" The Lt. barks out; "don't let him-"

But it's too late. The magus gives Xilo a final contemptuous look, and then lifts his hand, lowering his thumb and fires a ray of hideous, disintigrating energy...

...into his own temple. Within less than a second, the perforated, battered and beated husk of the necrotic magus turns to dust heaping where he stood; all that remains of him being the officer's cap knocked off earlier, resting now where Gamble lies silent on the stage.

"Dammit!" Bathory curses. "Dammit, they're planning something. Something... I don't know. I almost had it. Dammit." She rubs her temples with her fingertips, trying to banish a migraine brought on by the truncation of her Detect Thoughts spell, and then looks around blearily. "Doc! We need you up here again!"

The battle, it seems, is over; the enemy defeated or retreated; the shield centre captured. The silence that follows the sustained gunshots and spellfire is almost overwhelming.

The last defiant soldier falls; and even some ratty attack rolls from certain members of the party are unable to drown out the accumulation of damage, which passes the Magus's critical threshold. Rather than risk critical intel being plundered from his mind, he disintegrates himself!

Jukebox and Gamble are unconcious on the stage, though I don't doubt the squad will save them - folks have been judiciously saving their Skyknife ring heals. Xilo, a final heroic DC 18 Con save for 24 Necrotic damage, half on success. After that, your objective is secure!
With blood and valor, in the face of catastrophic reversals, you have purchased a critical victory on Naphto beach!

[Cavir]

Sgt Xilo steels himself through yet another black burst, but doesn't think he could make it through another. The blast disrupts the elf just enough to prevent him from stopping the magus from blasting itself into oblivion. Sgt Xilo barely gives himself a second of reprieve before his attention goes back to the rest of the room. "Two men down up here! Secure the prisoners then status report!"

The sergeant takes two strides to Jukebox and takes a knee. Using his own Skyknife ring he pours some healing energy into the kenku. Hoping that's enough to keep him going for now, Xilo moves over to Gamble. He pulls out a healing kit to keep the goliath alive.

[Waistcoatwill]

Doc sees the limps bodies fall on the platform and sprints back over, giving Ordo one more dirty look as he does.

Take it easy sarge, those are delicate tools you've got there. It takes more finesee than swinging that pig-sticker of yours. Allow me.

He gently moves moves Xilo's hands out of the way and mixes up a strange paste that looks similar to the insides of thr pos-gel pack, applying it just under the big warrior's nose. Before long he starts coughing, puffs of dark miasma being expelled with each spasm. A smidge of colour begins to return to his cheeks.

Back on your feet slugger, well get you patched up properly in a bit.

Move plus dash if necessary plus bonus action healer's kit to get Gamble to 1hp.

[JbeJ275]

Seeing that those who had been downed were no recieving medical attention, and taking just a moment to have his own coughing fit, Salamir scrambles do examine the captured shielding unit, with the Magi's death it was now undirected but there was no damage to the infrastructure of power drawing itself, if they could hold this position there was the potential to draw out further shielding power from the krieger circuits, and depending on whether the Krieger's managed to rally a force to counter attack before reinforcememnts arrived it might be neccesary to know how to quickly sabotage the power draw.

[Cavir]

Sgt Xilo gladly steps out of the Doc's way. He glances around looking for any other exits. He picks up the officer's cap then walks over to the dead acolyte where his M1 still stands. He wipes his sword using the acolyte's clothing, sheathes it, then yanks his M1 free, also wiping that blade clean.

Standing by the edge of the stage for a good view of the room he gets the troops back to business for a little while longer. "Come on Skyknives, you know the drill. Gather the prisoners together. Search them one by one. Send the searched ones onto the stage. Once that's all done we can search the area."

"K'ral, keep overwatch. Catchell, cover the doorway. Ordo and Wolf, cover the unsearched prisoners. Gamble, Jukebox keep an eye on the prisoners put on the stage. Ginger search the prisoners, I'll cover you. Doc, O'Hara, see to our wounded, then theirs."

"LT, we have one more Sending rod. HQ should know about this. We need MPs for the prisoners and we need resupply. Maybe you and Sal can figure out how the contraption works?" Xilo hands the officer's cap to the LT.

[Continental Op]

Wolf keeps the two Kriger soldiers against the wall, his pistol ready. He tries to follow the Sarge's orders and get the other non-soldiers still alive to join them, but the language barrier gets in the way again. He resorts to yelling in Amcaran, "Hey, you guys in the coats! Get over here, with these other two."

If that doesn't work, he asks Ordo to help round up the others. Whenever Ordo joins him, Wolf holsters him pistol and reloads his M1A1 Thompson, and asks the Kriegers, "Any of you Kriegers have food around here? You know, Food? (das essen?)"

[Novabomb]

Pvt Gabriel Ginger
Thoroughly searches the prisoners with all 3 hands.

[PartyOfRogues]

K’ral heads to the ruined bunker above, scanning the situation down on the beach, then looking for a vantage point in the rubble overlooking the beach and trenches.

Perception: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]

[MrAbdiel]

The Lieutenant makes the 'call' while the squad secures the area. The cleanup is a labor, but compared to eating bullets, it's a holiday. The fight has been chased out of the last couple of soldat and the gaggle of nerds; exhausted and despairing, they are put to one side and kept under guard with no further issues.

Gamble, Ordo, Catchell and Jukebox have all taken serious injuries that will require long term care. Almost everyone else has something to remember the fight by; a scar here or there, where a bullet of blast found them. But somehow, no one died; not an Amcaran body joins the Kreiger dead in this wicked den. Everyone that ran in through the smoke and the poison and fire is atleast capable of limping back out again; and that seems downright miraculous. O'hara insists on leading a spontaneous prayer of thanks; and no one objects, even if few are ready to indulge right now.

Exploration and examination of the room shows no additional exists, but no shortage of arcane glyphing on the north wall's perimeter - designed, the Lt surmises, to transmit the conjoured magical power from the distant Kreigshielder apprentices to this location, to be coalesced and harnessed by the now disintegrated Kreigshielder himself, under the watchful eye of his local assistants. The whole glowing arcane map fades to invisibility over the next three minutes, bleeding off its tremendous energy as the shield to which it corresponds, and whatever cryptic data swam in that stream of power, is lost entirely.

K'ral has the best view of the aftermath, from the surface level. Emerging into the light of day, he witnesses the allied ships out to see fire their salvos overhead again; this time they hammer into the bunkers on the Defiant wall on target, shaking concrete and stone; driving the enemy before them. Every one in four bunkers is still covered by a flickering violet energy field, but everywhere else men are at the walls; the Amcaran landing force has hit the cliffs, thrown lines up to climb, and swarm up the ramps in streams of men and machines. The enemy is in full flight; and overhead, harassed by a gratifying paucity of enemy planes and fire, more big-bellied aircraft full of fall-troopers soar inland to deploy their warrior cargo. With the Kreigers on their heels, the beach is yours - though the cost has been high. Yet only with more spilling of valorous blood will the world come to peace again; you know nothing more certainly than that.

Glory to the warriors! You've complete the mission! I'm gonna take a week or two to percolate on what's coming next; but in the mean time, for those who have stuck through:

You level up! In addition to rolling your new hit dice, as a result of the rest-time you're going to get before being deployed again, you may reroll one of your existing hit die if you want, taking the new result if it's higher - that's why I asked you to take notes of the individual rolls! :D When I catch up on my posts, I'll do a little IC shuffling of positions and squads - but the spoiler is you'll be merged into an elite, small squad; and the surviving NPC's will be assigned to another. You may see them again in the field, but we'll be down to an all PC party. Next thing will be a non-combat scene for people do some non-combat stuff, then redeployment!