“Gorlin, divert ‘south-east’ into the ork ship. We’ll push through that to our objective.”
“Rrgh. Affirmative.”
“Kind of wish I’d had brought a flamer, “ Hagrdict grunts, “to cleanse the ork taint as we go."
“Waste of ammo. Let Destroyer Six purge them along with the rest of the Hulk. That being said, I’ll settle for claiming the Warboss’ head as a ‘target of opportunity’”
You can hear the extra quotes in Losis’ tone, even over the inter-suit vox. “No need for a wild grox chase. If we get into a fight, every ork left on this wreck well be gunning for our heads, Warboss included.”
“Reh-heh-heh. Bring ‘em on Hunter.”
Gorlin leads the way into the ork teleportarium. New, oil-drenched cables spew forth from most of the equipment. Occasional sparks of lurid green energy spit from copper orbs and tin rings. Suddenly the sparks turn into jagged looping arcs of power. You feel your stomach rebel as the power builds and the gravity in the chamber goes mad.
One of the walls is ripped away, shattering into grains of sand. You and your team are thrown through the opening as the teleportarium begins to overload. You hit a wall, roll to the ground, and are buffeted by an almighty explosion. You feel the very ground you are laying on undulate with the force of the blast, tossing you about like a ragdoll.
When the shalking finally stops, you carefully gather your wits and climb to your feet. The floor is still swaying erratically, and you quickly spot the reason why. You and the rest of your squad is on a narrow platform, a rickety bridge of sorts, above a festering pool full of some sort of bubbling goop. You don’t know what the goop is, but you do know that ending up in it is probably not good for your health.
“Hunter to Squad. Status Check.”
“Crrgh. Combat ready.”
“Uninjured.”
“Hanging off the edge and in need of a hand.”
You turn around to find Losis is in exactly the position he reported. You step gingerly, not wanting to put a foot through the bridge, and grab his forearm. “Let’s get you back up here.”
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Pull Losis back up onto the rickety bridge: -20% Strength test.
Success! Needed <53, got 08.
You give a heave and Losis flops back onto the bridge. It sways like a drunken guardsmen under the impact, but it doesn't collapse. “nice catch.”
“Nice pull. Bad spot to stand though.”
“You don’t say. Gorlin?”
“Grh?”
“Lead on.”
Gorlin picks his way carefully across the bridge. It squeals in protest at some of his steps, and rocks alarmingly at others, but it never gives out. Hagridict follows him, but an incautious step results in an alarming creak, crack, and stumble. He falls backward with his arms windmilling, and you have the barest fractions of a second to register disaster before he slams on his back and the whole bridge gives way.
Peril Damage: Fell into the toxic goop! 3d10+5 Energy (acid) Damage.
Randomised hit location: head. Incoming damage: 26.
Damage reduction from armor: (8 armor - 7 penetration) = 1. Damage reduction from toughness: 10.
Total damage taken: 15. Armor Breached! It is no longer atmospherically sealed!
5 Health remaining.
You haul yourself onto the edge of the goo pool. You tip your head forward, letting the slime drip out of the gaps in your helmet. Your everything hurts a bit, but you can keep going for now.
Hagrdict hauls himself clear, shaking his right arm in disgust, “Some sort of bio-acid. Call out if you start to melt or anything.”
Losis follows, bio-acid goop pouring out from behind his backpack, “Will do Apothecary.”
Gorlin is the last out of the goop, “Freh. Feel like I got kicked by a carnifex.”
You take a moment to assess your squad. Everyone’s health indicator on your hud is glowing the sullen orange of moderate combat damage. It’s not critical, not yet, but further fighting could put you into serious trouble. On the other hand, nothing is ever gained by sitting in base doing nothing...