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.
Primary: A41 Carbine (180/30 rounds) Secondary: B12 Shotgun (45/5 shells) Sidearm: Colt M911 (21/0) Melee: combat knife Augment: N/A Backpack: 2 flares, command radio (allows access to fire support, reinforcements), 2 smoke grenades, 3 Officer MREs, 1 bottle of water, 2 power cubes, flashlight, 2 HE grenades --------------------
You gave him no orders, he did not move. The enemy is closing at approximately 2 kilometers. Your mechs are peppering their advance with 20mm cannons. You men look at you, somewhat concerned.
Luganov radios you: "Why aren't we moving, Captain? What's your plan?"
M90A3 Hoplite Alpha: Operator: 200/200 Specialist Bath HP: 300/375 Weapons: 40mm autocannon (184/190 rounds), 20mm rocket pod (60/12 rockets) M90A3 Hoplite Bravo: 200/200 Specialist Carn HP: 225/375 Weapons: 40mm autocannon (170/198 rounds), 20mm rocket pod (60/12 rockets) M90A3 Hoplite Charlie: 200/200 Specialist Jackson HP: 325/375 Weapons: 40mm autocannon (188/188 rounds), 20mm rocket pod (60/12 rockets) M90A3 Hoplite Delta: 200/200 Specialist Kane HP: 300/375 Weapons: 40mm autocannon (144/192 rounds), 20mm rocket pod (60/12 rockets) Gear: Interface bodysuit (allows your mech to use your primary and melee weapons) Primary: .50cal LMG (1500/1300 rounds) Secondary: N/A Sidearm: N/A Melee: Mechsaw Augment: Dread Maxx, Dread Hawk Backpack: N/A
They're at around 2000 meters, moving closer slowly. Your men fire off a round every now and then, and every once in a while a counter blips and you get a kill.
Rank: Corporal Name: Bob "Tower" Light Type: NCO Kill Count: 9 Bio: Age: 32 Size: 7' 8", 357 lbs --------------- --------------- Conditions: Healthy, Sore Leg, gas burn, concussion, cracked rib, dislocated shoulder HP: 115/155 Vehicle: Group: Private Lazlo (40/50) Private Nikolajs (40/50) Private Gerhard (35/50) Gear: Padded Boots (5hp), Combat Pants (5hp), Plate Leg guards (10hp), Ammo belt (30/30 5.56 rounds), Padded Jacket (5hp), Plate Vest (25hp), Combat Helmet (20hp), Gas mask (5hp) Primary: M20 Assault Rifle (240/30 rounds) Secondary: P90C (150/50 rounds) Sidearm: Razor Automatic pistol (80/20 rounds) Melee: KA-BAR Augment: Domino Backpack: 4 MREs, six bottles of water, shovel, flashlight, flare
40 meters. Around you the silt cloud is slowly settling. You feel a hand on your shoulder, and see Lazlo looking at you through his gas mask, obviously in pain.
"We need to move, Corporal. We'll die out here otherwise."
Primary: A41 Carbine (180/30 rounds) Secondary: B12 Shotgun (45/5 shells) Sidearm: Colt M911 (21/0) Melee: combat knife Augment: N/A Backpack: 2 flares, command radio (allows access to fire support, reinforcements), 2 smoke grenades, 3 Officer MREs, 1 bottle of water, 2 power cubes, flashlight, 2 HE grenades --------------------
"Alright me time to move. Fireteams move in correlation to the lieutenants battle plans. Command, calling in an air strike on a massive enemy movement, how copy?"
"Indirect squads fire at the enemies reargurad, that's where their supplies will be. You don't need to be accurate just deal as much damage as you can."
"Lieutenant you have the green light for your battle plan. If you need more men I can assist."
"Scout teams, hold position and start your objectives."
"Support teams follow the Fireteams, one each side."
"This is Command, we've got that wing on standby. Priority tangos?"
"On your word, sir. We've begun bombardment."
The lieutenant seems bewildered. "My strategy was supposed to be a joint effort! They are almost on our position! We have no defensive positions!--" His transmission is cut off. The lieutenants' APCs roll forward a few seconds later, followed by the fireteams.
*Team. Scout Bravo got slaughtered due to some confusion. "Sir, we're falling back before we're overrun. They're advancing!"
Gunfire explodes from both lines, the enemy are less than 700 meters away, and closing quickly. Your preemptive strike has lost its momentum.
Rank: Corporal Name: Bob "Tower" Light Type: NCO Kill Count: 9 Bio: Age: 32 Size: 7' 8", 357 lbs --------------- --------------- Conditions: Healthy, Sore Leg, gas burn, concussion, cracked rib, dislocated shoulder HP: 110/155 Vehicle: Group: Private Lazlo (35/50) Private Nikolajs (35/50) Private Gerhard (30/50) Gear: Padded Boots (5hp), Combat Pants (5hp), Plate Leg guards (10hp), Ammo belt (30/30 5.56 rounds), Padded Jacket (5hp), Plate Vest (25hp), Combat Helmet (20hp), Gas mask (5hp) Primary: M20 Assault Rifle (240/30 rounds) Secondary: P90C (150/50 rounds) Sidearm: Razor Automatic pistol (80/20 rounds) Melee: KA-BAR Augment: Domino Backpack: 4 MREs, six bottles of water, shovel, flashlight, flare
You don't need to swim through the gas. It ain't assjuice.
Although it slows you down, you quickly make it above the noxious clouds. Your men are badly burned. Still knee-deep in the thick gases, you can see the beach alight with weaponsfire. Around you craft are stopping to let out troops.
M90A3 Hoplite Alpha: Operator: 200/200 Specialist Bath HP: 300/375 Weapons: 40mm autocannon (184/190 rounds), 20mm rocket pod (60/12 rockets) M90A3 Hoplite Bravo: 200/200 Specialist Carn HP: 225/375 Weapons: 40mm autocannon (170/198 rounds), 20mm rocket pod (60/12 rockets) M90A3 Hoplite Charlie: 200/200 Specialist Jackson HP: 325/375 Weapons: 40mm autocannon (188/188 rounds), 20mm rocket pod (60/12 rockets) M90A3 Hoplite Delta: 200/200 Specialist Kane HP: 300/375 Weapons: 40mm autocannon (144/192 rounds), 20mm rocket pod (60/12 rockets) Gear: Interface bodysuit (allows your mech to use your primary and melee weapons) Primary: .50cal LMG (1500/1300 rounds) Secondary: N/A Sidearm: N/A Melee: Mechsaw Augment: Dread Maxx, Dread Hawk Backpack: N/A
You hold the line steady, firing at the advancing enemy. They begin firing back, at your lines. It seems APCs from the other platoons are trying to make an assault.
Rank: Corporal Name: Bob "Tower" Light Type: NCO Kill Count: 9 Bio: Age: 32 Size: 7' 8", 357 lbs --------------- --------------- Conditions: Healthy, Sore Leg, gas burn, concussion, cracked rib, dislocated shoulder HP: 110/155 Vehicle: Group: Private Lazlo (35/50) Private Nikolajs (35/50) Private Gerhard (3/50) Gear: Padded Boots (5hp), Combat Pants (5hp), Plate Leg guards (10hp), Ammo belt (30/30 5.56 rounds), Padded Jacket (5hp), Plate Vest (25hp), Combat Helmet (20hp), Gas mask (5hp) Primary: M20 Assault Rifle (240/30 rounds) Secondary: P90C (150/50 rounds) Sidearm: Razor Automatic pistol (80/20 rounds) Melee: KA-BAR Augment: Domino Backpack: 4 MREs, six bottles of water, shovel, flashlight, flare
Laserfire starts raining out of one of the positions up the beach. Several men around you are cut down, and Gerhard gets a hole blown through his leg. He is knocked down, and starts screaming in agony. You can see the putrid flesh squirting through unburnt patches in his leg.
A few meters up the beach, artillery lands, tossing you down, sending waves of gas in every direction.
