Mission 1: They came from...behind!

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> Planet Wellington, city of Pendleton. Situated just south of a lake filling an ancient impact crater, Pendleton serves as the administrative center for one of Wellington's more northerly provinces.(more)
<El-Cideon> The region has seen a population explosion in the past decade despite a climate that could charitably be called sub-arctic. The reason? Wellington's astounding mineral wealth is especially abundant in this area. (more)
<El-Cideon> The Shackleton Mountains to the north, for years the haunt of hermits and lone prospectors, are aswarm with mining agents like ants on jelly. Excavating machines run day and night to extract the precious metals hidden below the surface, and those left behind by the antideluvian asteroid strike.
<El-Cideon> (more)
<El-Cideon>  Across the lake, the burgeoning town of Pike houses the majority of the local workers, while Pendleton itself plays host to corporate offices and local businesses. Of course, as with any economic boom, there are hangers-on. People who fell by the wayside and got lost in the shuffle as Pendleton went from frontier town to local capital.(more)
<El-Cideon>  With disenfranchised locals, offworld agents, and ambitious businessmen all in the mix, there's plenty of opportunity for someone willing to operate on the fringes of the law...and that's where the Lagoon Company comes in.(more)
<El-Cideon>  It's January of 2622 when they're getting settled into their HQ at the edge of Pendleton's run-down western district. A new business for a new year! ...Not that years mean much on a world without seasons. It's cold the morning the team gathers in the front office to await the arrival of their first client. But then, it's usually cold here.
<Targo> "So let's go over this one more time," says Targo, frowning at his companions. "Not only are you telling me that the office heater is turned on, but it's also working at full power."
* Wilhelmina rolls her eyes, content to be polishing the barrel of her carbine in silence.
<Forrest> Forrest is somewhat inured to the cold, but doesn't mind if Targos or Wilhelmina prefer to keep the heating running full blast inside the office. "You can always put a sweater on," he shrugs apathetically, scratching at his belly through the buttons of his army surplus olive green shirt.
<Forrest> Sitting himself on one of the desks, he changes the subject, gesturing briefly to their front man. "So hey, uh, Targos. What's the skinny on this here client we're meetin' with, today?" he asks, blinking through the strands of greasy brown hair falling past his brow.
<Targo> In sharp contrast, Targo is wearing a suit. It was a nice suit, once, but for a period of time, it was literally all he had to wear. It remains significantly smarter apparel than most inhabitants of Wellington, however. "Firstly - there is only one Targo. Secondly - a mechanic, asking for what he called a.. what was it..." Fishing out a datapad, he checks something for a moment. (More.)
<Targo> "Aha! A 'personal security detail'. His name is Alec Brewer, and.. that's it. He was very nonspecific over the phone."
<Forrest> "What's a mechanic need a personal security detail for?" Forrest asks, scratching at his stubble-covered chin and nodding in acceptance of Targo's point about his name. "Well, guess if he pays then I don't much care."
<Targo> "Maybe he's not a very good mechanic, and disgruntled customers want him to understand just how unsatisfied they are," muses Targo.
<Wilhelmina> "Could be fun," Wilhelmina muses, aiming the carbine at the door and checking its targetting scope.
<El-Cideon> The Company's prospective client arrives promptly at 10AM to (hopefully) answer any and all such questions. There's a tentative knock on the door, and then he just walks right in. He's a tall black man with close-cropped hair, and he looks as though being in a place of business such as this isn't a regular occurrence for him. Of course, walking in to see the barrel of a gun can't help matters.
* Wilhelmina is all-too-happy to have a real target to test her scope on.
<El-Cideon> A blink. "Ah...Lagoon Company, right? Or should I have my hands in the air?"
<Targo> "Ah, Mr. Brewer!" says Targo, dangerously swooping in front of Wilhelmina's gun and offering a hand to the client. "I'm so glad you could make it. Please, come in, and allow my colleague to threaten the door in peace. It's nothing personal."
* Wilhelmina repositions the weapon to adjust the scope a few milimeters to the right, forgetting all about their client for all appearances.
<El-Cideon> He nods, sparing Wilhelmina a worried glance before taking Targo's hand and shaking it firmly. "...Right, okay. Guess I'm not the only one who's nervous," he says with a wary grin.
* Forrest stands up and wipes his hand briefly against his pants, offering a handshake to the client after Targo. "Nice ta meetcha," he drawls with friendly smile. "Name's Forrest. This here's Targo - only one of 'em around. And the quiet girl with the gun there is Wilhelmina."
* Wilhelmina gives an absent-minded wave in the client's general direction.
<El-Cideon> Alec nods. "Hey, Forrest. Nice to meet you." Wilhelmina just gets another odd glance before Brewer gets right down to business. "So...well, I said over the phone, kind of. I think I have some work for you guys."
<Targo> "I'm certain you do have work for us," responds Targo, guiding Alec into a nearby interview room and offering him a chair. "I'm sure you wouldn't have gotten our referral without real need. So, have a seat, and tell us all about it."
<Forrest> "If you have a problem, and if no one else can help - and since you found us, I guess you can hire the Lagoon Company," Forrest nods amiably. "So, what's the job, Mr Brewer?"
<El-Cideon> Alec sits down. "Well, I'm not normally in a line of work that calls for keeping bodyguards around, but...I guess I'll start from the beginning. I came out here from Coleille a couple years ago. Used some of my savings to buy a plot of land outside the city. Didn't have specific plans, I just like having a lot of space around. Even if I have to drive half an hour into the city to work, I think it's a fair trade, you know?"(more)
<El-Cideon> "Anyway, a while back a friend suggests I have the place surveyed by a geologist. Everyone up north is falling into money mining, so I figured it couldn't hurt. Turns out I'm sitting on a pretty big strike. Which is great, you know, but since then I've been getting harassed on a regular basis."
<Targo> "It isn't an uncommon practice for lucky prospectors," muses Targo, trying to think of the more aggressive mining companies in the area. "Do you know who is responsible?"
<El-Cideon> He shakes his head. "No. First it was just little things. Items stolen or broken while I was at work. Then the goons started coming around. Three or four of them, masked. Talking about protection money and that bullshit. I don't know if they're goons from one of the syndicates trying to muscle out indpendant operators or just random opportunists, but I decided to take some preemptive action for the next time they show up."
<Targo> "You haven't got any offers to take the land off your hands?" asks Targo, raising an eyebrow. It's how he'd do it; rough up the owner, and then make an offer far less than the value of the property. If he doesn't accept, the attacks get worse. On Wellington, where public authorities didn't have much sway...
<Targo> ...there wouldn't be much an independant operator could do.
<Forrest> "You made the right decision," Forrest nods. "If'n any of these goons try anything while we're around, well..." he whistles quietly.
<El-Cideon> "Not yet," he says to Targo. "I figure they're working up to it. You know, I'm not even sure I want to work the land--I fix aircars for Metasonix, and I'm pretty happy with that--but this is a crock. And you know the cops, they can't do anything until they see a knife in your back. Besides, the cops would only arrest these guys. I want to make a statement, you know?"(more)
<El-Cideon> "Going to the cops doesn't impress anyone. On the other hand, 'Mess with me and you -will- get fucked up' is the kind of message that resonates."
<Targo> "Yes, you don't want them to just get out of jail in a few months and come back," agrees Targo, nodding along. "Any notable development you've undertaken on the land itself?"
<Forrest> "I hear that," Forrest slaps his hand approvingly on the desk, but doesn't comment further while Targo is getting more information.
<El-Cideon> He shakes his head. "Haven't done anything yet. And I'm not about to shell out for excavating equipment when someone's likely to torch it as soon as I turn my back, you know?"
<Targo> It's very hard to not think of what's likely to happen to the land when they like Wilhelmina loose on it, but the client probably doesn't want to hear that. "I think we can do business, then," replies Targo with a friendly smile. "Do you have a map of the area?"
<El-Cideon> "Sure thing," he says, unfolding a printout. Brewer's plot is a roughly square blob of land that's mostly still covered with Wellington's local equivalent of coniferous forest. At the eastern edge is a clearing with a pencilled-in rectangle indicating Brewer's house. Not far past the edge of the map, he says, would be the highway the runs north to Pike and south to Wellington's more temperate regions.
* Targo glances at the printout, and passes it to Forrest for a closer inspection. "Ah, yes. After your geologist informed you of your find, who did you speak to about it?" he asks, grabbing his datapad and typing up some notes.
* Forrest takes a quick look over the map to memorise the details and then hands it over to Wilhelmina.
<El-Cideon> "Way too many people," he admits sheepishly. "Some casual comments at work, and then word could've got anywhere. I suppose this is partly my fault."
* Wilhelmina studies it lazily, before returning the map to Forrest. "Talking. To people. That was just asking for trouble," she says sagely.
<Targo> "A wise one, is our Wilhelmina," agrees Targo. "Now, when do you want us down there?"
<Forrest> "I don't know," Forrest shakes his head as he puts the map down on the desk. "You'd think with all the unclaimed land already on the planet that no one would be fixin' to fight over one little plot."
<El-Cideon> He doesn't seem to know what to say in response to Wilhelmina's sage advice. To Targo: "They've been stopping by pretty regular the past couple weekends. Last time, the leader implied they'd be around Saturday and expecting some kind of payment." He grins, quite humorlessly. "I'm hoping you'll be there to make sure they get it."(more)
<El-Cideon> "As for what I can pay you guys...well, I'm not rich. Only potentially so, you know? I was hoping two thousand would cover it...maybe twenty-one fifty, since there are three of you? Seven-fifty each? Circumstances don't give me a lot to spare right now."
<Targo> "
<Targo> "Although the operational expenses are low, please do not forget that we are running risks in this mission," responds Targo, pleasantly. "Not so much from the thugs themselves, but we are a relatively new business in the area. In all likelyhood, I suspect these goons belong to one syndicate or another. These groups tend to frown upon what they see as interference in their affairs-" (more)
<Targo> "-and thus the cost to us in- let us call it 'goodwill'- goes beyond a simple fist or firefight. I would say around three-thousand is closer to covering these intangible costs."
<El-Cideon> OOC: Roll a Persuasion check.
<Targo> roll 1d20+14
<Rei-chan> 6,0Targo rolled :6,0 1d20+14 --> 6,0[ 1d20=17 ]4,0{31}
<El-Cideon> Alec doesn't take long to make concessions. "Alright, alright," he says, raising his hands. "Three thousand."
<Forrest> "You won't regret it, Mr Brewer!" Forrest grins in approval at the revised fee scale.
<Targo> "Delightful! We'll make sure to be there on Friday night, ready to defend your property," agrees Targo, extending a hand again. "We don't really believe in contracts here at Lagoon- your word of honour is all that is necessary."
<Wilhelmina> "Don't die before we get there," Wilhelmina adds.
<El-Cideon> A nod and a handshake. "Sure, thanks," he says to Targo, sparing Wilhelmina another of those confused looks. "Hey," he adds before turning to leave, "I was wondering: Lagoon Company? Where'd the name come from?"
<Wilhelmina> "A book."
* Targo looks mildly uncomfortable.
<Forrest> "Never heard of it ma'self, but she seemed to like it and no one had the heart to argue," Forrest admits, nodding his head towards Wilhelmina.
<Wilhelmina> "It's a very proud name," she affirms.
<El-Cideon> He just shrugs. "Well, okay then." Probably he doesn't read much. With that, and some last-minute assurances that yes, Lagoon Company will be there in time, don't worry, he exits.
* Wilhelmina looks moderately happy at the prospect of shooting, setting on fire and otherwise maiming goons.
<Wilhelmina> "Maybe we need to buy explosives to defend his land more effectively," she considers out loud.
<Forrest> "Y'all can do that with your own money. Me, I'd like to turn a profit on this here escapade," Forrest drawls as he gets up.
<Targo> "We're defending it, not razing it. And we wouldn't get them in by Saturday anyway," replies Targo, waving their resident pyro off. "Forrest, how about getting there a bit early on the Friday and surveying the land yourself?"
* Wilhelmina is somewhat disappointed by the logistical difficulties. "I'll go," she volunteers. "Need to see it, anyway."
<Forrest> "Alright, Willy and me'll go give the place a looksee tomorrow," Forrest nods. "See what we can see and all."
<Targo> "Good, good. I'm gonna go poke around a bit, see if any other independants have a problem with this sort of thing," replies Targo, grabbing a heavy jacket from a nearby rack. "Anything seem weird about this to either of you?"
<Wilhelmina> "He's an idiot," Wilhelmina states bluntly. "But he's paying us to kill people, so whatever."
<Targo> "
<Forrest> "Well, like I said earlier, I reckon the planet's big enough that folks wouldn't need to fight over one little parcel a' land," Forrest muses as he scratches his belly.
<Targo> "Some people are just too lazy to look for themselves, I guess," he replies. "See you around, friends. Don't burn anything without provocation!"
<El-Cideon> OOC: Alright Rat, go ahead and make a Gather Info check if that's all Targo's doing.
<Targo> roll 1d20+9 pretty much, looking for intel on both alec and standover men
<Rei-chan> 6,0Targo rolled :6,0 1d20+9 1,0pretty much, looking for intel on both alec and standover men --> 6,0[ 1d20=19 ]4,0{28}
<El-Cideon> ~
<El-Cideon> The next morning is also cold. Shock. While some areas of Wellington are comfortably temperate, Pendleton's latitude affords it only something akin to perpetual late autumn. Most of Alec's land is indeed covered in the local, hardy conifers. There is presently a light snow on the ground from a fall the week before, though the weather today is sunny.
<Forrest> "... and this bird you can not change," Forrest concludes his driving song as he pulls up the truck off the road running past Alec's land, driving slightly amidst the trees so it won't be too noticable for anyone going past. Getting out while dressed in his all-weather poncho, he sets Targo's sensor dish on the hood of the truck and fires it up. "Let's see, now..." he mumbles as he fiddles with the dials...
<Forrest> roll 1d20+18 perception
<Rei-chan> 6,0Forrest rolled :6,0 1d20+18 1,0perception --> 6,0[ 1d20=7 ]4,0{25}
<Forrest> roll 1d20+18 perception reroll
<Rei-chan> 6,0Forrest rolled :6,0 1d20+18 1,0perception reroll --> 6,0[ 1d20=7 ]4,0{25}
* Wilhelmina can always make it warmer if there's a need, but hardly finds one, clad in practical jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, a jacket atop it. "Anything?" she asks Forrest.
<Forrest> "It's picking up an animal over there," Forrest points to the undergrowth to the left. "That's about it." Shutting down the dish, he sticks it back in the truck. "Want to take a look around and scope out places ta ambush our goons?"
* Wilhelmina shrugs. "We'll be limited by not placing charges strategically, but we'll have to endure."
* Wilhelmina seeks out the best approaches to the house -- those easiest to cross while providing ample cover. As well as observation points that would make that cover moot, if utilized, of course.
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+9 tactics
<Rei-chan> 6,0Wilhelmina rolled :6,0 1d20+9 1,0tactics --> 6,0[ 1d20=10 ]4,0{19}
<El-Cideon> The clearing around Alec's house is easy enough to survey with normal vision. His house is a long and low one-story affair (though possibly with a basement level--most local houses have one. Easier to heat). It's about 10 by 15 meters. A paved driveway runs south before turning east to meet the highway. About fifteen meters from the house on either side, the low grass gives way to the treeline.
* Wilhelmina observes the roof, and how plausible it would be to set up a post on top of it, without opening the person manning it to fire from all directions.
<El-Cideon> The roof is slanted, which shouldn't be a surprise in a region with regular snowfall. Standing on it would be tricky.
<Wilhelmina> Lying on it might be easier, especially with an improvised foothold. Wilhelmina checks to see the direction of the slant and which side it could defend against.
<Wilhelmina> "Half a dozen of those trees," Wilhelmina says, pointing out the older-seeming ones near the property. "If there's an assault on the house, I'd expect them to be used for cover. We could prepare for it, or set them on fire." She pauses. "I propose setting them on fire."
<El-Cideon> The roof slants down towards the back and front of the house, peaking in the center. One could conceivably perch on the top ridge, but it would be fairly visible.
<Forrest> "Or one of us could hide up in those trees and get the drop on our attackers once they show up," Forrest suggests.
<Wilhelmina> "That is the other option I mentioned. But fire means that someone won't be out in the open if the other side's numbers are too great."
<Forrest> "Well, we can use that sensor dish thing on Saturday and know once anyone else gets within a click - if there's a lot we can set a firewall, if not we can prepare an ambush. Either way works," Forrest opines, scratching his cheek briefly.
* Wilhelmina nods. "So we're staying here for now?"
<Forrest> "Only if you want to explore more of the land," Forrest replies. "Client says to show up on Saturday, after all, and I dun' wanna spend the night here."
<El-Cideon> ~
<El-Cideon> Saturday morning, Lagoon Company arrives at Brewer's place as requested. The client himself comes out to greet them, after peering out the window for a moment to make sure they aren't, y'know, the goons.
<Forrest> "Mornin', Mr Brewer," Forrest gives their client a friendly greeting as he sets up the sensor dish on the hood of their truck, intending to monitor said early warning system throughout the day.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+18 perception
<Rei-chan> 6,0Forrest rolled :6,0 1d20+18 1,0perception --> 6,0[ 1d20=4 ]4,0{22}
<Forrest> roll 1d20+18 perception reroll
<Rei-chan> 6,0Forrest rolled :6,0 1d20+18 1,0perception reroll --> 6,0[ 1d20=6 ]4,0{24}
<Targo> "Hello, hello!" greets Targo, exiting the truck and wearing far more sensible clothing for this particular mission. "We'll have to move the truck out of sight... anyhow, they usually come at night, right?"
<Forrest> Verifying that the system is working as intended, Forrest focuses on the conversation between Targo and Alec, paying cursory attention in case the scanner makes any bleeps or bloops or shows any flashing lights.
<El-Cideon> He nods. "Around nightfall, yes. Evening, definitely. No set time, but they haven't showed up earlier than...I dunno, six o'clock? So, what's the plan?"
<Wilhelmina> "They come, but they don't return," Wilhelmina says succinctly.
<Targo> "You said there were only three or four, right? So we'll have me and Forrest in the... forest, I think," replies Targo, blandly going on over the top of Wil. "Wil can hide behind the door in the house. I figure when they show up, we start their education when they reach the door."
<Targo> "They come in a car or van or something?"
<El-Cideon> "They usually just walk up. Probably think it's scarier that way. I'd hear an aircar if one pulled up. I guess maybe they could stop a ways down the road or something."
<Forrest> "I'll stay here to keep an eye on the dish, but once they get within a klick we'll move out," Forrest puts in. "I can position myself up one of those trees by the road and wait till they reach the house, then start sniping once Willy engages."
<Targo> "Sounds good. I'll leave the medkit and stuff in the house. Don't think we'll be needing it, though," replies Targo. "Nothing else you think we should be aware of, Mr. Brewer?"
<El-Cideon> "Well..." He stops and points to a compact yellow aircar sitting at the end of the driveway. "It'd be great if my car *didn't* get shot up today, but I understand you guys have to put survival first. Shame I can't move it somewhere, but I guess they'd think I wasn't home if I did that."
<Forrest> "Could just put it to the side of the house so it's visible but not likely to be in the middle of a firefight," Forrest suggests.
<Targo> "Don't want to let 'em know anything unusual's going on," replies Targo, shaking his head. "If it's been in the driveway the other times..."
* Wilhelmina doesn't intend to waste everyone's time with insincere promises to spare the car.
<El-Cideon> Alec nods. "Yeah...so I guess we buckle down and wait now?"
<Targo> "Pretty much. You should probably just stay in the house while things are going down," responds Targo, pulling out his blaster and making sure the power pack is properly charged.
* Forrest resumes watching the sensor dish.
<Wilhelmina> "In the basement," Wilhelmina amends.
<Forrest> OOC: taking 10 for 28 from now on
<Wilhelmina> OOC: I could aid if you'd like
<El-Cideon> Another nod, and a glance like Alec's not used to being around guns at all, but he doesn't dispute anything.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Basically just gonna hold tight until something shows up, I take it?
<Targo> OOC: Pretty much.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Okay, sec.
<El-Cideon> It's a long and dull afternoon waiting for your quarry to show up. Every now and then the scanner picks up some animal moving through it's field, but that's about it until evening rolls around. And then--
<El-Cideon> (For Wil: the inside of the house is spartan, but cozy. Aside from a tiled entryway, wherein visitors should supposedly take off their shoes, there is a living room to the right and a bedroom to the left. There's also a descending stairway right across from the front door).
<Forrest> "Contact," Forrest looks up from the scanner. "Four of them just came into range, coming down the road. Reckon it's time we took our places." And unless anyone argues, he makes his way towards the treeline where it meets the road and the cleared grounds, intending to climb up one of the conifers with a good field of view and then hide himself amid its branches.
<Forrest> OOC: taking 10 for 8 on climb, I'll roll for stealth
<Forrest> roll 1d20+9
<Rei-chan> 6,0Forrest rolled :6,0 1d20+9 --> 6,0[ 1d20=4 ]4,0{13}
* Wilhelmina intends to observe Forrest and Targo taking their places via the scanner, as well as whether the approaching goons take notice of them and alter their approach.
* Targo will follow suit, though he won't climb a tree, instead lying prone just behind some trees. He probably can't see the thugs, and they can't see him- he'll pop out once Forrest starts shooting. "No problem, boys and girls," he comments just before he departs. "Just thugs, not even soldiers."
<Targo> OOC: Using inspire confidence! Should give +1 to attack and skill checks for you two.
<El-Cideon> It's some minutes before the intruders make their appearance. They're ambling down the road in a vaguely cross-shaped formation, two of them chatting idly amongst themselves. This isn't exactly a crack Swat brigade, it seems. About ten meters from Brewer's house, they stop and the one in front speaks.(more).
<El-Cideon> "Brewer! Had a chance to think over our little proposal" he shouts. His voice sounds gravelly, worn. Like the others, he has something like a ski mask on, and they're all dressed plainly. The leader has a pistol at his hip, while the others carry rifles in plain sight.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+2
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d20+2 --> 6,0[ 1d20=19 ]4,0{21}
* Forrest carefully lines up a shot on one of the riflemen, waiting for Wilhelmina to engage them before he attacks their rear.
<El-Cideon> The two men in the middle seem focused on the house. The portly man in back glances around the clearing--and his gaze stops on Forrest. "Hey, what's that guy doing in that tree?" he mutters, sounding more confused than alarmed.
<Forrest> Well, the game's up, so Forrest promptly shoots at the guy who spotted him.
<Forrest> OOC: surprise round?
<El-Cideon> OOC: Yeah. You three and the mook who spotted you.
<Wilhelmina> Choosing Frederica as her weapons of choice, Wilhelmina throws the door open, staying just out of sight of the men outside.
<Forrest> Carefully lining up his shot right on the man's centre of mass, Forrest squeezes the trigger and fires a bolt of accelerated particles down at him!
<Forrest> roll 1d20+5
<Rei-chan> 6,0Forrest rolled :6,0 1d20+5 --> 6,0[ 1d20=13 ]4,0{18}
* Targo rolls to the side and starts lining up his own shot!
<El-Cideon> OOC: Hit. Roll for damage.
<Forrest> roll 3d8+2
<Rei-chan> 6,0Forrest rolled :6,0 3d8+2 --> 6,0[ 3d8=21 ]4,0{23}
<El-Cideon> The blaster bolt slams into the portly goon with terminal force and he tumbles to the ground as his cohorts shout in dismay.
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+11 init
<Rei-chan> 6,0Wilhelmina rolled :6,0 1d20+11 1,0init --> 6,0[ 1d20=13 ]4,0{24}
<Targo> roll 1d20+5 init
<Rei-chan> 6,0Targo rolled :6,0 1d20+5 1,0init --> 6,0[ 1d20=10 ]4,0{15}
<Forrest> roll 1d20+9 init
<Rei-chan> 6,0Forrest rolled :6,0 1d20+9 1,0init --> 6,0[ 1d20=8 ]4,0{17}
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+8 leader's init
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d20+8 1,0leader's init --> 6,0[ 1d20=9 ]4,0{17}
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+2 Mook A's init
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d20+2 1,0Mook A's init --> 6,0[ 1d20=3 ]4,0{5}
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+2 Mook B's init
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d20+2 1,0Mook B's init --> 6,0[ 1d20=9 ]4,0{11}
* El-Cideon changes topic to 'Wil > Forrest > Red Leader > Targo > Mook B > Mook A'
<El-Cideon> The leader has time to glance behind him and scream "Porkins! Nooo!" before Wil gets her chance to move!
<Wilhelmina> While the thugs seem preoccupied with men in trees rather than worrying about the real danger, Wilhelmina clears the house, turning the flamethrower's nozzle towards the three still remaining and setting Frederica's fury loose upon them!
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+11 fire
<Rei-chan> 6,0Wilhelmina rolled :6,0 1d20+11 1,0fire --> 6,0[ 1d20=4 ]4,0{15}
<Wilhelmina> roll 3d6+5 fire
<Rei-chan> 6,0Wilhelmina rolled :6,0 3d6+5 1,0fire --> 6,0[ 3d6=14 ]4,0{19}
<El-Cideon> OOC: Two hits and a miss (which is half-damage, with a flamethrower).
<El-Cideon> The thugs are engulfed in flames! Two of them fall to the ground instantly and scream in agony for a moment before their flailing stops. It's pretty incoherent, but "Oh god the burning" can at least be made out clearly before they die. The leader ducks but is still singed!
<El-Cideon> OOC: Go, Forrest.
* Wilhelmina pats the flamethrower's fuselage affectionately.
<Forrest> Switching his aim to the last surviving thug, Forrest carefully lines up another shot on his centre of mass and squeezes the trigger, hopefully dropping him.
<Forrest> roll 1d20+5
<Rei-chan> 6,0Forrest rolled :6,0 1d20+5 --> 6,0[ 1d20=6 ]4,0{11}
<El-Cideon> The bolt goes wide, driving into the ground with a *spang*. The leader turns on Wil immediately, drawing his gun in one smooth action and backpedaling another ten meters before firing. "You killed Biggs and Wedge! You bitch!"
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+7
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d20+7 --> 6,0[ 1d20=10 ]4,0{17}
<El-Cideon> But he misses and singes the facade of Brewer's house instead.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Go, Targo.
* Wilhelmina smiles malevolently at the leader, targetting him ever-so-slowly.
<Targo> Targo fiddles with something on his blaster, before taking aim and firing a blue-green wave of pulsating circles towards him!
<Targo> roll 1d20+7
<Rei-chan> 6,0Targo rolled :6,0 1d20+7 --> 6,0[ 1d20=16 ]4,0{23}
<Targo> roll 2d8+2
<Rei-chan> 6,0Targo rolled :6,0 2d8+2 --> 6,0[ 2d8=9 ]4,0{11}
<El-Cideon> The leader is struck head-on by the blast, but it doesn't seem to phase him!
<El-Cideon> OOC: Wil.
<Wilhelmina> "Fire or blaster?" Wilhelmina asks out loud.
<Targo> "Up to you, I just had a whim," replies Targo, cursing the inefficiency of stun weaponry under his breath.
* Wilhelmina draws Roberta at his words, aiming the carbine carefully at the remaining thug before squeezing the trigger lightly.
<Wilhelmina> roll 1d20+10
<Rei-chan> 6,0Wilhelmina rolled :6,0 1d20+10 --> 6,0[ 1d20=14 ]4,0{24}
<El-Cideon> OOC: Hit.
<Wilhelmina> roll 3d8+3
<Rei-chan> 6,0Wilhelmina rolled :6,0 3d8+3 --> 6,0[ 3d8=15 ]4,0{18}
<El-Cideon> *This* shot does drop the leader, striking him full in the chest and knocking him off his feet.
<Wilhelmina> "Good girl, Roberta," Wilhelmina coos.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Yeah, combat's over already. Act freely.
<Forrest> Holstering his rifle, Forrest carefully climbs down the tree and approaches the bodies. "Well, ah reckon that went about as smoothly as it could've."
* Wilhelmina eyes the client's car, and briefly takes aim at it with Roberta.
<Targo> "Can't argue with a job well done," replies Targo. "Forrest, want to go head up the road, see if they left a ride around here?"
* Targo ambles over to the bodies left behind, and rather clinically checks each one to make sure it's dead.
* Wilhelmina has a brief inner argument, before sheathing her weapons properly and going to seek out the client.
<El-Cideon> The leader is actually still breathing! Albeit barely. And him being on fire isn't going to help matters. His cohorts are quite thoroughly dead.
<Forrest> "Sure thing. Back in a bit," Forrest nods amiably as he starts to jog down the road the goons came by.
* Targo kicks the fellow over and over and over again until he rolls out the fire. Leaving a lazy foot on his neck, he calls out- "Mr. Brewer! Perhaps you would care to see the face of your enemy?"
<El-Cideon> Not far around the bend, it's not hard to see a banged-up, gray aircar sitting on the side of the road, in the trees. It's similar to the Lagoon Company's, but in much worse shape.,
<Forrest> Forrest tries the door on the off chance they left it unlocked with the keys in the ignition. Or whatever the futuristic equivalent is.
* Wilhelmina knocks on the door to the basement entrance loudly enough to gain Brewer's attention.
<El-Cideon> Alec emerges, eventually. Seems like he'd been in the basement. His eyes tear up from the smoke off the corpses and he seems ready to vomit, but he holds himself together. "Ugh, jesus," he says, staggering around the bodies.
<El-Cideon> The car door is locked.
<Forrest> Oh well. They can pick it up on the way back to town. Jogging back to the homestead, Forrest prepares to report his findings.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+1
<Rei-chan> 6,0El-Cideon rolled :6,0 1d20+1 --> 6,0[ 1d20=17 ]4,0{18}
<Wilhelmina> "No damage to your car," Wilhelmina feels the need to point out. "It wasn't easy."
* Targo lugs the medkit out of the room and sets it down next to their victim. "Hey there, Forrest. Pass us those cuffs, will you? This one's still intact."
<El-Cideon> The leader seems to stir a little at all the attention, but he's not exactly coherent. Alec gets enough of a glimpse of his face (through the burned shreds of mask) to do a doubletake. "...Shit, I think I've seen this guy. Yeah, he delivers parts to Metasonix sometimes."
<Wilhelmina> "Delivered."
<Forrest> "They've got an air car a bit over a klick away down the road. Beat up lookin' old thang, though," Forrest drawls as he goes to their own truck to procure the binder cuffs and tosses them to Targo.
<Targo> "Interrogation is free of charge, but revenge jobs will require a new discussion," replies Targo, slipping the cuffs around their perp's hands. "Now, wakey wakey~" he chants, pulling off the guy's mask.
* Wilhelmina aims Frederica at the thug's face, watching impassively.
<El-Cideon> He does look fairly the worse for wear, but hey, he's still breathing after being set on fire. That's gotta count for something, right? "Shit," he mutters. "You killed everyone. You bastards!"
<Targo> "Well, now you know our job. Why don't you tell us about yours?" asks Targo, politely.
<Forrest> "T'weren't nuthin' personal," Forrest shrugs, clasping his hands behind his head as he leans against the wall of Alec's house.
<El-Cideon> "Drive a truck," he mutters, sounding vaguely ashamed of this admission.
<Wilhelmina> "He doesn't need his legs to talk," Wilhelmina notes, the nozzle moving lower down the man's body to stop somewhere over his waist.
<El-Cideon> "I'm talking, I'm talking!" he says, eyes wide.
<Targo> "But he does need them to walk, and I'm sure he wants to walk, which is why he's going to tell us about his night work," replies Targo, nodding. "Ah, he gets it!"
<Wilhelmina> "Hmph." She does let Targo question the captive, however.
<El-Cideon> "Just tryin' to make some extra money," he grumbles.
<Targo> "You're not very good at it," admonishes Targo, shaking his head. "There are all kinds of people like you around, and business is far better if you're shooting them and not being them."
<El-Cideon> His disgruntled silence can probably be taken as tacit acknowledgement of this.
<Targo> "Ah, well, you live, and learn. At least, you learn," replies Targo, flippantly pointing his blaster at the guy's head. "Anything else, Mr. Brewer?"
<Wilhelmina> "Does he even know anything?" Wilhelmina asks, sounding short-tempered and bored at the same time. "Let's just deal with him and go on."
<Targo> "That, of course, is up to our client."
<Forrest> "Ah reckon there ain't no need to kill 'im," Forrest puts in peacably. "He c'n tell all his friends about this so's they know not to mess with this here gentleman again," he gestures towards Alec.
<El-Cideon> Alec shakes his head. "I don't think so," he says in response to Wil. "I think he just heard someone got lucky and decided to mooch." He pauses to give the downed man a kick in the ribs. "What a fucking toolbox." He seems uneasy about someone being shot right in front of him, though.
* Wilhelmina thinks the client has the right idea, for once, and kicks the man herself. "Whatever."
<Targo> "Ah, Forrest. I don't think he has friends, anymore," replies Targo, kicking the man himself, and then pulling the trigger.
<El-Cideon> And that about does it for the would-be bandit. He shudders with the shot and then goes still for good. Alec, for his part, is just gapemouthed at the whole scene.
<Targo> "Now, Mr. Brewer!" continues Targo, holstering the pistol. "There is the matter of settling the accounts. If you wouldn't mind stepping back inside..."
<El-Cideon> "Right, right," Alec says, a little dazed as he walks with Targo back indoors.
* Forrest whistles softly at the execution. "That was stone cold," he comments, staying outside.
* Wilhelmina snorts. "Don't forget to collect the cuffs," she says, leaning against the wall of the house herself.
<Forrest> "Was a bit pointless even usin' 'em," Forrest mutters as he releases the binds on their unfortunate prisoner and puts them back in the truck. Sighing in distaste, he then searches the corpse for car-keys.
<El-Cideon> The leader does indeed have the key to the car (presumably; there's a key on him with the same brand name). Apart from his standard-issue blaster, he has nothing else of interest.
<Forrest> Forrest proceeds to gather up all of the blasters owned by these goons and unload them before tossing them in the truck.
<El-Cideon> The rest of the goons were armed with unremarkable hunting rifles. Any joe off the street could've got those without much trouble.
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