Wednesday 29 June 2016

Terror From The Skies - the second bit

Assuming the pilots take up the Captain's request, they can either take to the skies in the DH 2's or take the Albion truck to the small village. 

Village of the Dammed

If they fly, it's a short flight to Frévent, lasting about twenty minutes.  From the air as they circle overhead they can see with a notice roll that the entire village has been subjected to some kind of artillery barrage.  The centre of the village is pockmarked with craters and debris.  Small fires still burn where the bombs fell.  Luckily, the village was evacuated as the battle lines extended to this sector, so civilian casualties will be low.  Near the centre of the village the pilots can see the burned out husks of the missing ambulances.  A stunted field to the west of the village is flat and clear enough for the pilots to land safely with a piloting roll.  From there it's a five minute walk into the village. 

The village of Frévent is eerily quiet, even so close to the front.  The footsteps of the pilots echo in the still morning air, and every blown out window and doorway seems to be watching them.

As they approach the ambulances notice rolls reveal that there are several British army soldiers scattered around the burned out transports, all of them have been machine gunned or burned.  With a smarts roll (-2) the pilots can determine that the trajectory of the bullets is from about a 120 degree angle, as if the soldiers were shot from above. 

Blast craters surround the ruined vehicles, with severe damage to the surrounding houses.  With a notice roll, the pilots realise that one of the craters is significantly smaller than the others.  If they approach it, they see the tail fin of what looks like a small bomb.  On closer inspection, the bomb is partially buried in the roadway.  Having some experience with ordinance, it looks like no bomb the pilots have ever seen.  Filigreed markings cover the exposed surface, in strange esoteric designs.  The metal of the bomb casing is not steel, it looks like a strangely hued bronze.  If the pilots remove the bomb, it moves easily and is far too light to have any explosives inside.  As soon as they touch the bomb, the shattered forms of the dead soldiers and medical personnel start to move. 

The walking dead stand and attack the flyers, their horribly mangled bodied cause fear checks.  There are two plus one for each pilot.

Undead Soldiers
Attributes: Agility d6, Smarts d4,
Spirit d4, Strength d6, Vigor d6
Skills: Fighting d6, Intimidation
d6, Notice d4, Shooting d6
Pace: 4; Parry: 5; Toughness: 7
Gear: Varies, but they can use weapons!
Special Abilities:
Claws: Str.
Fearless: Zombies are immune
to Fear and Intimidation.
Undead: Undead: +2 Toughness, +2 bonus to recover from Shaken, no additional damage from Called Shots, immune to disease and poison.
Weakness (Head):
Shots to a zombie’s head are +2 damage.

Assuming the group survive the attack they can investigate the bomb further.  Once removed from the crater, they can see that the nosecone of the bomb can be easily removed, but would take a set of appropriate tools and some careful manipulation.  This is best done back at Vert Galant.

Homeward Bound

After a successful flight back to the aerodrome at Vert Galant the pilots are debriefed by Captain Herbert.  Given what the flight has been through, and a few words from Conan Doyle, he is less inclined to question the validity of their report.  Rather, he is somewhat shocked by the news.

"Distressing news chaps, rather disturbing.  Some strange new Bosche weapon perhaps? This is an unsettling turn of events, more so that they would fire on ambulances.  Best take that thing you found over to the ordinance chaps and get them to have a wee peek at it.  Maybe get some clues, what?"

He salutes and turns to leave.

"Oh, dash it, I almost forgot, that Times chappie is here, in your barracks, large as life if you please! He's wanting to speak to you all"

The Man From The Times

Lounging in the officers barracks is the man from the Times.  Mr Parkhurst is a small bulldog of a man with a thickset beard like a privet hedge.  Pince nez spectacles perch on his nose and he's dressed in tweeds that make him look like a holidaying prep school teacher. 

"Ah, the famous flyers.  Good to see you all, I'm Lawrence Parkhurst, as our mutual friend has no doubt told you, ha ha.  Now, as far as MI-13 goes, it's all very hush hush, we're to make ourselves invisible.  There are other groups and organisations out there who would take a very dim view of our activities.  Ostensibly, you are to continue your duties here under the command of Captain Herbert.  In reality, you are all seconded to MI-13.  I'm here to liaise with Sir Conan Doyle and other members of our group, if you have any problems or questions, I'm here to help.  Till then, keep mum."

He stands and turns to leave.

"Oh, by the way, reports of your bravery and promotions are on the way to the London office for immediate publication, good for morale and all that."

If the group think to ask him about the strange bomb they recovered or to update him on their findings at Frévent he ponders it for a moment. 

"Gads you fellows are keen.  Another engagement with the enemy already?  As to this strange thing..."

He taps the shell with a pencil and pulls on his beard thinking.


"Best get it disassembled and examined I think, take it over to the ordinance shed and speak to a fellow called Mctavish, he's your man"

No comments:

Post a Comment