I've stolen some ideas from GW on this, theres a "Chelsea" mission in the Exterminatus rule expansion that dealt with a wave crashing over some forces killing civilians. Call this running with the theme. Please let me know what you think.
After being pulled back from the defensive duties guarding the transmitter stations against the siege of Iron Warriors, the Marines Errant have left the company of the Sisters of Battle and Imperial guard to dive through the jungles toward the 7-8 Dam, in Sector 85b. Transmissions bounced from com-link to link, antenna to short-wave radio. Instructions were mixed, details were hazy. Still, one thing was for sure. They were bringing three predators in tow with their armored transport column, and would arrive at the dam by morning.
Upon reaching the dam after a relatively uncomplicated evening foray (they had to pause to exterminate some charging ambulls in Sector 84a), the Marines found what looked to be a large group of hedonistic rebels engaged in a looting spree amongst some civilian transports. These transports had once been commissioned for an evacuation of a zone miles away, and they had made it just miles from this site before being slaughtered to a child. The rebels had dismantled most of the internal combustion engines and slapped together what essentially was a large, steel reinforced, multi-barrel Molotov cocktail. When the Marines cleared the brush to engage, the bomb detonated at the foot of the 7-8 Dam structure, and water began to pour out from the two-story high hole blown in its structure. Thousands of gallons of water per second began to pour onto the field, washing all terrain and debris toward the two forces.
The Errants, hoping to salvage what they could from this mission, were ordered to jump forward and grab as many objectives as possible. The hedonists, quite proud of the job they had done, have decided to keep what they can and high-tail it out of town.
This is where our mission begins.
This is a narrative mission, using mostly boots, tanks and guns. It is understood that one side will not come to the table with a whole shit-ton of knights or flyers.
Both players will deploy perpendicular to the dam structure. The Marines Errant will deploy up to 12" onto their board edge. The Noise Marines (Chaos) and their allies will deploy 12" onto the board edge on their own side. Three chaos units may be held in reserve as "looters."
Eight objectives will be set down the middle of the board, each player will place four. They should land more than 18" away from a board edge, except at least two should be near the dam and at least two should be near the other end, and can violate this restriction.
The Chaos force will deploy first, holding looters in reserve.
The Imperial force will deploy next, up to 12" away from his board edge.
Infiltrators are deployed normally.
Next, the Chaos force will place 3 looter units upon objectives. It should be noted that these objectives are not yet revealed, so the Chaos player has no idea what objectives he is actually putting his forces upon. These units must be placed with one model at least within 1" of the objective, and no looting models from the same unit may be within 1" of two objectives.
A string will be laid at the base of the dam. Every turn the string will be moved in a straight line toward the opposing end of the table. Any unit, objective, or terrain piece it comes into contact with will be immediately removed from the board as a casualty. No saves of any kind are allowed, and Chimeras are not immune to its destructive effects. No exceptions, really, except units that are flying.
Turn one, objectives will be replaced with suitable markers for their respective identifications. Each one will be rolled for, but will be treated differently by each force.
1-2: Wounded citizen. The objective will be replaced by a citizen model. Each player turn, the citizen will be moved 3" away in a straight line away from the dam, unless prevented doing so by a model or terrain.
3-4: Transmitter. The objective will be replaced by something mechanical looking. This is a transmitter, used to beam signals into low orbit. It is stationary.
5-6: Improvised Explosive. The objective will be a bomb of sorts. It can be "picked up and moved" as a relic. A model carrying the improvised explosive may detonate it at any time, however it causes d6 moral wounds to its carrier, a mortal wound to anyone within 1" of the carrier, and 1d6 normal wounds to any unit within 6" of the carrier. Carriers of the relics can be any model that has at least one "hand." A hand is defined as a literal hand at the end of an arm, or a power claw, fist, dreadnaught close combat weapon, "grabbing stick," what-have-you. This designation will be strictly left to the model and its appearance on the table. Models without any sort of "hand" cannot carry improvised explosives. Chain reaction: if an improvised explosive is detonated within 6" of another improvised explosive, the two will detonate simultaneously and damage will be compounded. A player who successfully detonates three or more improvised explosions in one phase will be owed a drink of choice from their opponent.
HOW THE TEAMS REACT TO THE OBJECTIVES
Citizen: Imperial infantry units that come within 1" of the citizen will rescue the citizen. It will be scored as 1d3 victory points. Chaos units that come within 1" of the citizen can either hold him hostage (+1 command point per turn) or execute him on the spot (+1 victory point). If a citizen is rescued he is removed from the game. If a citizen is held hostage, he moves as a virtual model with the unit he is with. He does not fight or shoot, and will begin to run again if the unit he is with is destroyed.
Transmitter: Either force (Chaos or Imperial) that comes within 1" of the Transmitter may "open a channel" at the end of their movement phase. The transmitter will begin transmitting data about the battle to their allies nearby. While a force has a channel open, they may, at the beginning of their subsequent turns, either score a victory point or a command point, their choice. Units that have a channel "open" (within 1" of a transmitter) that are destroyed by the wave will lose one victory point due to the confusion and / or panic it causes on the "other end of the line."
Improvised Explosive: Holding onto an improvised explosive at the end of the game is 1 victory point for the Imperial team. Detonating an improvised explosive is worth one victory point to the Chaos team.
At the end of the game, the winner is the one with the most victory points. Having the "last units on the board" will be a tie breaker. There will be no victory points scored for First Blood, Kill Points, Linebreaker, Slay the Warlord, or any of that nonsense.
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Thursday, September 7, 2017
The Mercian Homecoming.
The standard workouts and weapons maintenance of week-three-day-seven had gone methodically and according to routine. After dinner, Jake sat in his cell, elbows on his knees, rubbing his face from his chin to his short-cropped black hair. Ever since it had been torn open by a five-pound slab of red-hot scrap metal, his forehead tingled in a band running from one temple to the other. Replacing the normal wrinkles that ribbed his brow, now a deep crevasse, still not fully healed, made a pale frown above his eyebrows. His fingers paused to try to become familiar with the scar. It still felt very new, however it had been over a year since the jungles of Chargis III. There, he had fought the traitorous Bandrois Conspiracy, where he gained this mighty scar. It made for a great story: his platoon commanders had slagged two Scout Walkers trying to outflank them. The first of these gangly two-footed contraptions had just fell to its knees and collapsed, its pilot boiling in his own cockpit. The second one detonated, and sprayed them with shrapnel. All went dark after this, and Jake woke up with this huge head wound. His men had helped him out of the swamp, tied bootlaces around his head to keep him from bleeding out. When he awoke he couldn't remember anyone's name for a week, yet now it seemed like a good memory. He closed his eyes and held on to it. He began to sink deep into this memory, drifting away from where he was. Away from his cot. Away from the sweat dripping through his fingers.
This is when the buzzing noise started. It was so soft he could barely hear it.
Jake turned his head up at the sound of the chime. He stood, straightening out his pants legs as he arose. His shoulders snapped back into their attention posture. The chime rang again. It was not unpleasant, much like a chord of five tones, lyrical and slightly muted as to not be offensive. It was loud enough to wake a soldier from his sleep, yet not disturbing enough to cause annoyance.
"Umber. Sir," Jake stoutly called into the air. "I've drifted off for a bit, my apologies."
Jake tried to look at attention despite the complete lack of any kind of video feed on board the transport. The Lathekin-99 was nothing more than a cylindrical bus for transporting bodies from one vessel to another. Its compartments held very little in the way of amenities, as the Lathekin craftsmen it was built to shuttle on their weekly commute would only spend twelve hours- eighteen maximum- from the food processing centers orbiting JYLN-55 to the landing ships that would bring them to the planet's surface. Each of its five decks held one hundred eighty rooms, each outfitted with a cot, a small sink, vacuum toilet and a light, no windows. There was not much room for anything else. The pilot of the ship was a mindless servitor, there were no recreation halls or simulation chambers. The men met in the hallways to talk, cramped passages dimly lit and full of stale air. Most men, at this point, stayed in their rooms most of the time, making little noise or complaint. The Lathekin-99 was a silent cylinder, drifting like a coffin through interplanetary space. It was not designed for this kind of travel, but desperate times had brought this plan.
The company commander's voice came from the small speaker located directly above the head of the cot. The speaker was a small disk of metal that protruded from the wall. The words "Interoom Intercom System - Narendra Corporation" were etched into its circumference, white letters on shiny red aluminum.
"Jake. I think I've got this figured out. We are essentially on a secure circuit. I needed some of the Ab's to cut some wires, but I think we can talk. So no need for formalities." The voice was from Nikolaus Umber, a voice that sounded full yet raspy. It always sounded as if Umber was trying to be quiet with his voice, yet he could be heard in the next room. Positions like company or platoon commander had a relatively high turnover rate in the PDF, yet both Nikolaus and Jake had survived their positions longer than most. Both of them secretly held a fear that they would both become old men. This mutual fear had allowed them to be rather honest with one another.
"Listen, Jake," Nikolaus continued after a brief pause where he had expected Jake to say something. He let out a bit of a sigh, and hoped the Interoom Intercom hadn't transmitted his exhalation as loud as it seemed to him. "You know I've never really understood that incident with the commisar on Chargis, right? And I've never forgotten about what happened on that bridge."
Jake winced. This was Nik's attempt at an apology. Umber was reminding him about the hostages, as if that was payment- in a sort of even exchange- for errors made on the bridge. Jake just didn't want to go through it.
"Listen Nik, I get it," Jake spoke into the air. This was one time he was glad they couldn't be speaking face-to-face. "We're just going to have to do what they say. The sooner we can get back to Chargis the sooner we can figure everything out." There was another pause.
"I'm... concerned," Umber replied, and then started again on a more whispered tone than usual. "Worried about that pull back. Worried about Larry and all them down there."
"We secured the ravine," Jake countered, "just a little jaunt across the system and we're back. Just keep your cool. okay? Larry can hold it. " Jake could feel his heart racing again. His mind was racing again for no good reason, and that tingling sensation prickled the crevasse in his forehead.
And the buzzing noise. There was that buzzing noise again. Jake felt that he needed to talk over the top of it as it grew a little bit louder.
"Tanks, Nik. They've got tanks. And we've got the gas to run 'em. We help them out, we can convince them to come back down with us."
Umber hissed out of the speaker. "Those were black, Jake. That was black Mark VII. I know you don't believe me, but I was up on that hill. You expect them to come back?"
Jake could hardly hear the last few words Umber said. The buzzing, droning noise filled his head. It was if cicadas were buzzing in the ceiling, in the walls, next to his ears. It was hard to ignore, and Jake began to drift, listening only to the buzz.
"Jake?" Umber could hear nothing from the small aluminum disk, just the omnipresent flutter of the guidance engines that dotted every yard of the 100 yard long Lathekin-99, as each fired small jets of liquid propellant in constant course-correction succession.
Then the buzzing stopped again. But only after Jake laid down and went to sleep.