So I've noticed a huge lack of RPGs with storylines. Or at least ones that unfold at a decent pace. So I've decided to make a two-parter (and possibly a subsequent sandbox sequel). But too much explaining, let's get to the story already!
Nearly 64 light years away from the Blue Planet is a mostly barren alien world, mostly inhabited by polymimetic crystalline formations, and the occasional fungus patch. The crystal itself is the future of human space technology, with it's self-replicative behavior. Unfortunately, the scientists that were studying the crystals were mimicked. With the jumpstart of having a living being in it's molecular memory, it began spawning a whole civilization. This attracted the attention of a race of ancient explorers, of whom we know little. But now, to harvest the crystal and put it to our own uses, we have to subdue the local fauna and transport them to processing plants. Sure, some naturalists had objections, but the war council made a tactical decision that they wouldn't complain after a few minutes in the cold vacuum of space.
12/4/AD2162/0630 Earth Time: Mankind is half an hour away from it's first interstellar invasion. You've got to gear up and get to your dropship. Outside the generation ship there are faint pops in the atmosphere, probably enemy fighters.
Character sheet:
Rank: Name: Type: Age: Gender: (only for officers and infantry) Size: (height, weight, build, pick your type before you do this) --------------- --------------- Conditions: HP: Vehicle: Group: Primary: Secondary: Sidearm: Melee: Augment: Backpack: --------------
Types: (basically race)
Officer: Human (male or female) Rank: 2nd Lt. HP: 60/60 Size: No specs Weapons: A41 Carbine, B12 Shotgun, Colt M911, combat knife Specialty: Access to vehicles, platoon-size groups Description: A cushy, well-paid job well behind your assigned cannonfodder. Or if you've got nothing to lose, at the very front of the onslaught.
NCO: Human Augment Rank: Corporal HP: 75/75 Size: Larger than regular human, no real restrictions Weapons: G60A SAW, 40mm rocket launcher, Razor Automatic pistol, KA-BAR Specialty: Access to augments and mech suits, team-size groups Description: NCOs are the liasons between the cannonfodder and the officers.
Warrant Officer: Human Augment Rank: Warrant Officer HP: 80/80 Size: Slightly larger than an NCO, consistently heavily built Weapons: M20 Assault Rifle, 40mm Rocket launcher, Colt M911, Trench knife Specialty: Access to heavy vehicles (e.g. tanks, fighters), mech suits, augments Description: Highly trained and specialized soldier capable of a dynamic addition to any fighting force.
Infantry: Human (male or female) Rank: Private HP: 50/50 Size: They take 'em all shapes and sizes Weapons: M20 Assault Rifle, P90C SMG, Colt M911, Combat Knife Specialty: Access to careers such as medic, driver, gunner, or grunt. Description: Cannonfodder.
More weapons will be available later on, and if the players ask, more vehicles. Choose your loadout, and I'll set the rest up. Your rank is basically your level, and with level comes larger teams and access to better quality equipment and weapons. Want to increase your HP? Equipment does that. Augments also do that.
Word to the wise for wannabe officers, managing a large group can be as challenging as it is rewarding. You can get promoted to the point where you control several tanks, aircraft, or even ships! But managing those resources is time-consuming.
Your objective: Establish a foothold on the alien homeworld, and push to what seems to be their capitol. Expect heavy resistance.
Vehicle(s):
Gear: Interface bodysuit (allows your mech to use your primary and melee weapons)
Primary: .50cal LMG (0/640 rounds)
Secondary: N/A
Sidearm: N/A
Melee: Mechsaw
Augment: Dread Maxx, Dread Hawk
Backpack: N/A
You and your remaining soldiers stand still, firing at the tanks. Heated lead rounds pour into the enemy's ranks like lava rain. In response, beams of blue light cut through your men like a hot knife through butter. And you just stand there and shoot back. Finally, one of the beams hits the front of your mech. The lights on the inside begin flickering as it starts to cut through the front armor. Your mech is sustaining serious punishment, but it won't last much longer.
The friendly force is 500 meters away, slightly to your right. By place you mean? The Citadel?
Vehicle(s): Gear: Interface bodysuit (allows your mech to use your primary and melee weapons) Primary: .50cal LMG (0/640 rounds) Secondary: N/A Sidearm: N/A Melee: Mechsaw Augment: Dread Maxx, Dread Hawk Backpack: N/A
(Where is everyone but carn? Didn't say any fire hit allies) "We're retreating!" I say as i take everyone with mechs destroyed in my mechs' hands, then go back to tank hovering.
Vehicle(s): Gear: Interface bodysuit (allows your mech to use your primary and melee weapons) Primary: .50cal LMG (0/640 rounds) Secondary: N/A Sidearm: N/A Melee: Mechsaw Augment: Dread Maxx, Dread Hawk Backpack: N/A
*****. I'm not sure you understand. They shot back. Your men are dead. They have light suits, not your forcebreaker. Carn is unconscious but stable about 1500 meters behind you. I was giving you a chance to react to your mech being hit.
As you shout your orders, the beam goes straight through the chest of your mech and out the back, the inside not being plated. Your legs are blasted off. The power core fails, fuses blowing throughout the mech. A few final hits bring your mech to the ground.
Vehicle(s): Gear: Interface bodysuit (allows your mech to use your primary and melee weapons) Primary: .50cal LMG (0/640 rounds) Secondary: N/A Sidearm: N/A Melee: Mechsaw Augment: Dread Maxx, Dread Hawk Backpack: N/A
The hatch hisses open, and your legless body tumbles out. What seems like miles away, the platoon is engaging again. Behind you, the other platoons are still in shambles. You feel strong, but your bodily fluids are draining out through your legs. Fortunately the energy beam cauterized most of your stumps.
Vehicle(s): Gear: Interface bodysuit (allows your mech to use your primary and melee weapons) Primary: Secondary: N/A Sidearm: N/A Melee: Mechsaw Augment: Dread Maxx, Dread Hawk Backpack: N/A
Arm over arm, you steamroll your way over the corpses and dirt. You're about 50 pounds lighter, due to your lack of legs. As your stumps are pulled along the alien-fluid-soaked mud, you feel a tingling sensation. You've got about a mile and a quarter until you get to the rear lines. Your vision is somewhat blurred.
Your boots click on the clean walkway in the belly of the frigate.
The entrance to the assignment bay is directly in front of you. Behind you is the tran that takes you to different parts of the ship. On either side are in the inworks of the ship. Sheer drop, with only a little railing.
Sorry guys, I'll have to continue this some other time.
Unfortunately, I dislocated my hip and ribs on my right side while sparring, and then sprained my lliocostalis in the gym the week after. I'll probably be doing physical therapy for the next 4-6 weeks. After that I'll be getting back in shape for regionals until christmas break. I won't have enough time to keep up with you guys until then.
