At last, the rusted padlock gave way and dropped to the dust. The Mudokon stashed his tools with a self-satisfied grin and put his shoulder to the gate to push it open. However, the hinges were just as rusty as the lock, and a metallic squeal split the night as the gate swung open. The mudokon cringed as several pairs of accusing eyes turned on him. "Oops."
Within the confines of the Depot, a slog snorted and turned its eyeless head towards the source of the strange sound. Upon catching the scent of intruders, it growled, then began to bark thunderously. Soon the cry was taken up by several others until the courtyard rang with their alarm calls.
The small force of rebels sneaked furtively through the shadows, every one of them on high alert. Every bark that sounded just a bit too close for comfort caused them to jump, and all kept a tight grip on their weapons, which ranged from gem-studded crossbows to vicious-looking war spears to big sticks. The band crept up to a clustered behind an outlying building, a large shed used to house trains under repair, where they remained in a nervous huddle.
"Is the coast clear?" asked someone.
"I ain't sticking my head out to check!" came the response, prompting a rangy tomahawker to snort derisively and mutter something under his breath about the qualifications of the "warriors" that had come along on this mission. He shouldered his way to the front of the group, then leaned out to peer into the gloom for signs of danger.
He found himself looking into the red visors of a slig, who was just as surprised to be staring at a war-painted mudokon brandishing a bone club.
There was a moment of stillness, then someone shouted, a gun went off, and the first skirmish of the night began. Drawn by the sudden cacophony, more sligs and slogs descended on the rebels, and alarms began to screech within and without the Depot.
'Intruder Alert! All security personnel report to the courtyard! GET OUT THERE, YA LAZY BASTARDS!'
(This thread is still open to new people joining, but now I'll be moving it along whenever everyone present gets a chance to post.)
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Gabbi had been in combat before--she didn't carry an axe and bolas as fashion accessories, after all. But something of this scale was new to her. She had only been a youth when Sekto's dam had come down. Thus far, the biggest battles she had experienced were raids on outlaws and settlers who strayed too far into her tribe's territory. For a moment, she felt cold fear down her spine, threatening to paralyze her. What had she gotten herself into? This was insane. There was no way they would be able to fight their way through the entire depot and they were all going to die and--
Suddenly, the snapping maw of a slog filled her vision, and she was yanked away from her spiral of terror and back into the present. Before it could reach her, she threw her bolas at it's stumpy legs, intending to tangle them.
CA: Gabbi uses her Dexerity stat to try and entangle/trip the attacking slog.
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