<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">SitRep</div><div class="spoiler_body"><div align="center">(http://i.imgur.com/15GT7Bk.png)<br/></div><strong>17.3k Vigilance Remaining</strong><br/><strong>49,408 Xorians</strong> <br/><strong>500 Maelstrom</strong><br/><br/><br/>Shelling continues but to a lesser effect than before as the Xorians take to extensive burrowing and counter maneuvering to minimize losses.  A tense battle for the walls is about to occur and the Deathkorps are poised to funnel the horde into the gatehouse killzone, albeit with more opting to cross over the walls given direction from their Overlord.<br/><br/>Maelstrom has made itself known and cut through a few unsuspecting Xorians who were busy taking advantage of their flanking position trying to subvert the walls to be watching the mists.  A Scabber is on the way to rectify the situation and retake control of the western flank before they're delayed by this set back.<br/><br/>Xorian swarm tactics have overwhelmed the Boolarian Regulars, whose west flank has crumbled and whose east flank holds on by a thread and is facing imminent annihilation.  They've dealt some considerable losses to the Vigilance forces in pinning this group meant to kite them towards the gatehouse.<br/></div></div><br/><strong>Barbara Snowmane</strong><br/><br/>The Snowmane cut through Xorians alongside her Raider companions like a blizzard aflurry with blades, the cold sting of her stiletto shattering a frozen Xorian sending a piercing echo across the camp as the tide turned--however tenuously--in the Maelstrom's favour.  Pincers met swords, chitin caved in under hammer falls, and humanoid wrestled insectoid for dominance in the bloody fray.  Streams of green ichor splashed up near Barabara as Kors cleaved his way through their foes alongside her.<br/><br/>"Aye, but be that as it may, it's the Vigilant's fight to lose; the sooner we grab the bitch 'anh the less likely we are to lose our own men.  We `aven't brought an army with us, after all."  He made serious gesture towards the walls.  "Time to climb, lass.  I'd hope it would be blown open by now, but then y'can't always have life on its arse for ye."<br/><br/>As if from nowhere, a floating fox spirit is among you.  Singing strange harmonies he bestows an arcane gift.<br/><br/><em>Shield has been cast on you, +3 AP to every limb for 3 turns.</em><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Pierce</strong><br/><br/><strong>"What was that?"</strong>The barrel of the pulse rifle thudded up against Pierce's cunt with a bit firmer of a tap, the scope, nestled gently between the folds of her ass, having been eased there slowly.<strong>"Missed you, I was too focused on the action."</strong>The T-Troops were up to their shenanigans the whole way to the camp.  Fondling, rubbing, but mostly psyching each other up for the coming combat.  The lieutenant was barking orders over comms the whole time of course.<br/><br/><strong>"Get those turrets locked and loaded!"  "Those explosives had better blow in tandem or it's YOUR ass, private!"  "Bitch.  Do I <em>look </em>like a contractor to you?  Do it <em>again</em>."</strong>Her voice was sharp and biting, keeping the boys a bit on edge.  Then the fateful scout report.<br/><br/>"Maelstrom skimmer sighted--Durnkish Raiders threatening fortification proximity!  They've overtaken the Xorian position bellow the walls, how copy!?"  The scout, frantic, was given quick orders to retreat on the double.<br/><br/>Pierce found herself flanked by not one but four squads, all of them covering their back as they retreated.  There was evidence of them having just laid some explosives, satchel charge holsters empty on the demo experts.  It seemed there was to be fireworks, indeed.<br/><br/><strong>"We're ready for them."</strong>Whether the lieutenant was assuring herself or her men was yet to be seen.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Ashitaka </strong><br/><br/>Dodging in and out of the jungle, avoiding the streams of Xorians and the cracks and collapses caused by their burrowing assaults, Ashitaka arrives at the Maelstrom position.  Nobody goes out of their way to shoot him, and when he arrives and casts a friendly spell upon a Maelstrom officer, nobody makes any move to molest him there either.  He has uniquely free reign on the battle field.<br/><br/>For the time being.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Cylde</strong><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Sorry for the confusion but the rolls don't actually get directly modified in any way, just a straight d100 roll.  What number you want it to hit at-or-under is what gets modified, +\- the relevant statistics.  Not a problem as iCan still see the pre-addition rolls tho.</div></div><br/>The Lord of Blights reached out with his mind and calmed his horde, putting purpose to bling and carnal rage, funneling hatred into tactically sound maneuvers.  Burrowing minimized losses to the next round of shells, though it shook the collective unconscious to feel so much ripped away so quickly still.  The Xorian mass is poised to scale the walls as it reaches them, but various setbacks prevented a clean execution of the stratagem.<br/><br/>The hivemind reeled with a cutting ice and stomping cold.  Flashes of a woman.  Brittle shattering and eternal tears.<br/><br/>The Overlord knew someone was sabotaging the western offensive, but who precisely eluded him.  They didn't seem like Vigilance types.  As for the central walls, things were going according to plan, if not as quickly as he might have hoped.  To the east skirmishes between officers had broken out but it was too soon to tell if his Scabbers would win the day.<br/><br/>Amongst all the chaos of battle, the bore worms would not respond to telepathic command.  It was well within the Lord of Blights powers to command many of them at his whims, but from a distance and amidst the din of battle with death and pain racking the network of Xorian thought and feeling it was too much to meaningfully direct them.  They lurched forwards, but to no particular end, meandering underground towards the enemy and various parts of the jungle demesne.<br/><br/><hr/><br/><strong>Abera</strong><br/><br/>A beastly and hulking commander strode head and shoulders above the writhing mass of bent and lilting creatures, winnow many-legged freaks of chitin, ichor, and strange biles.  This Xorian was leading the charge, directing the troops, and occasionally scattering chunks of its own arms' tops forwards at frightening velocity.  This plates seemed like chunks of armour, naturally grown and rejuvinating quickly out of the beast's arms.<br/><br/>"Scabber!  They've sent in a scabber!"  Abera heard some of the Boolarians calling.  They were just the Regulars, adventurers in it for the coin.  Magic missile did little in the face of the onslaught, however, and barbarian and ranger alike disappeared before the encroaching tide.  In the confusion, smell of fear, and sell-assured sense of victory that surrounded the Xorians they were rather lazy in the execution.  Lazy enough for a single combatant to slip through unmolested to challenge the foe directly.  Abera could come at the Scabber such that she would surprise it, and be able to strike with impunity before combat was truly met between them.