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KAMUT

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  1. The Whispering Winds Coven Charles Cruz Dueno The old teacher took hold of his staff and exited the temple. The gnolls had ravaged the tiny enclave and set fire to the makeshift huts surrounding the temple. At their command was a human who called himself the “Packmaster”; he had been a loyal servant of the Angry Swordsman for many years, some say, he was somehow the instrument of death towards the king and his family before the Angry Swordsman took over as regent. Though it pained his heart to see his kin slain before him, he still had hope in him remembering the Woodland Spirit was in the hands of an elf he believed could fulfill its destiny. He smiled a peaceful calm, knowing that his life had been well served; now it was time for him to defend his people, one last time…. His empathic call beckoned his people to take for the highlands, then channeling the attention of the gnolls toward him. The gnolls were easily distracted, their primitive state of mind did not allow for reason and so, one by one they came at him, fangs bared and claws at the ready. With a simple body twist, he outmaneuvered the first gnoll sending him sailing in midair towards one of the huts. The crash sent the structure tumbling down on him, while the old elven teacher struck another gnoll with a combination of strikes, one to the solar plexus, the second to the back of the head. With a graceful spiral the old master’s staff then met another gnoll’s advance with a butt to his groin. His image faded with the crack of the Packmaster’s whip. It didn’t take long for the Packmaster to realize the old elf was behind him; narrowly he evaded the old teacher’s combination of strikes. The old elf was deceptively nimble; his age would have a man think that he was incapable of executing the actions with the same grace of his younger peers. But the years would take its toll on the old elf; it took much of his fading energy to continue to defend himself. With sprits of light and chaff, the old elf again distracted the gnolls, this time providing them with illusionary combatants to occupy them while he squared off against the Packmaster. The display momentarily blinded the Packmaster giving the old elf just enough time to initiate an attack. First a spin, a twirl of the staff, a kick and another twirl of the staff into a straight thrust; it overwhelmed the Packmaster at first, who could only evade to defend himself. A quick spin of the whip, a crack and the staff was caught like a web. With a single action, the Packmaster pulled the elf inward and planted a deep fisted blow into the old elf’s abdomen. He then followed that action with a cocky hammer fist which sent the old teacher crashing to the ground face first. The old teacher didn’t have much time to writhe in pain; in that instant, he rolled away from a foot stomp that would’ve surely killed him. The Packmaster was a huge man, a little slow in comparison to the elf, but when he did hit, his opponents surely felt it. The old elven teacher needed a moment to recuperate, but the Packmaster wasn’t about to let up. His fist was heavy handed, so the old elf could outmaneuver the Packmaster’s strikes somewhat effortlessly. But the Packmaster would follow his heavy punches with yet another from his other hand, shifting his body to generate power to his fist. His technique wasn’t all too extravagant, but it was brutally simple and effective. A sharp upper cut caught the old elf square on his chin sending a shock to every nerve in his body. The old elf staggered on his feet a bit, unable to defend himself from yet another weltering blow, a hook to his jaw, which sent him spinning to the ground. Confidently, the Packmaster strolled over to the fallen elf. He never expected this much of a challenge from the elves, but he was not one to honor the moment. He clutched at the hair in the back of the old elf’s head and with a merciless crunch, drove another heavy fist into the old elf. With that action the illusionary opponents vanished and the gnolls snarled in anticipation of their next command. Elric and the younger elf cried out in anguish, for they felt the pain suffered by their master. It was hard to bear the old elf’s last request that he continue to the dwarven settlements. The Woodland Spirit was all Elric had in this world now, and the hope that he could somehow use this blade to help his people. The gnolls had caught the scent of the other elves and within moments the Packmaster had ordered them to find them. Elric and younger elf were faced with a tough decision, which was to go after the gnolls and protect the last of his coven or to continue towards the dwarven settlements and learn what secrets the Woodland Spirit possessed before it was too late.
  2. March of Sins Charles Cruz Dueno A mighty battle was about to take place at the foot of the human kingdoms. With the sound of an ox’s horn, the orcs had assembled from throughout the woodland realms, the marshes and the mountains in the west. The Angry Swordsman stood upon the battlements glaring at the orc standard; unlike the orcs of the monastery, these orcs choose to follow the teachings as they saw fit. They were the Myojo clan, powerful warriors with a reputation in battle that were the subject of awe in the human kingdoms. They wore banded suits of armor with demon faced helms, which added to their already fierce visage. These warriors had studied the tools of their enemies, and unlike most orcs, they preferably wielded the curved single edged blade to confront the humans. The Angry Swordsman could see hundreds of them, forming from all directions and preparing an advance against the walls of his kingdom. The horizon was glowing red as if in compliance with the rage of the orcs who were about to pour forth in a frenzy of steel and blood. He respected the Myojo, but he didn’t fear them. Their charge was that of desperation, and it signaled to him the success of his ambition. The sky rained with arrows of fire as the catapults launched massive sacks of oil filled substance to break the Myojo ranks. The ground before him was set ablaze, filled with the screeching screams of fallen orcs. They had begun scaling the walls of the kingdom only to be met by the blades of the human warriors. An explosion rocked the gates of the kingdom, shattering its large door, and the Myojo poured forth into the city. The Angry Swordsman inspired the humans to fight on for his blade had already fell a dozen orcs; the Ebony Crescent had cleaved most of them in a single stroke, their weapons, armor and all. The human Longbows descended on the Myojo as they entered the city. The people of the kingdom were frightened, remembering the legends of old when the orcs were blood thirsty savages. The Myojo took great pains not to harm the women and children, it was dishonorable for them to do so; their single purpose was to break the will of the Angry Swordsman and his troops. But old fears died hard, and so, the Myojo found themselves confronting many of the townspeople. This was not the intention of their general “him with the double scars on his face” and he could see how the Angry Swordsman had manipulated this event to paint they orcs as they once were. Frustrated, the general ordered his men to withdraw and salvage at least the question of their motives in the mind of the people. Why did they not kill and ravage as orcs were said to? Why didn’t they kill the women and children as orcs supposedly were said to? These doubts played more to the general’s intent than anything his blade could muster, and so he played his field wisely. The Angry Swordsman also realized the general’s actions and declared the Myojo feared the retribution of the Ebony Crescent should any of his people be harmed. But the stir of dissent had been planted….
  3. Elven Legends Charles Cruz Dueno It was a long way to the western foothills, where the dwarves resided, and so he and the younger elf had set a camp for the night in the woodland. Elric had pondered the words of his old teacher, and the tales of remembrance he passed to him. They were tales of an age where elves once fought alongside dwarves and humans against the orcs who were brutal and terrible. This was before the humans had lost their vision, for they once shared the same gifts as all the woodland folk. They once spoke with the trees and river spirits, and shared love between their kin which gave them the empathy to sense each others thoughts and emotions. They understood the balance of the cosmos, and the true nature of magic. There was once a time when the humans could hear the voices of the trees, the wind, the sun and the moon, but now with each generation, they had come to only hear one voice inside their head, their own. It had made them bitter and mistrustful, even of their own kind and because of this; more and more tyrants like the Angry Swordsman were becoming common among them. They had lost their greatness. There was once a time where men could travel to other planes of existence in an instance, caring nothing of their physical distances which could only be measured in eons of time and space. The magic of this world was slowly being replaced by the machinations and greedy desires of men. There would come a time when the woodland folk would no longer have a place in their world. Elves, dwarves and orcs would become a thing of legend, or the object of a human fancy. They would only exist as tales and stories told to their children, and when asked do they really exist? The humans would then tell their children, such things never existed and are stories, nothing more. The Woodland Spirit stood for something far more than just a blade. It embodied the very essence of the woodland, and as long as this blade existed, so too did the woodland realm….. Elric awoken to the sound of barking in the distance; he quickly motioned to the younger elf to make ready for he knew these sounds did not come from any ordinary animal. They were gnolls; horrible dog faced men and slaves of men. The gnolls were once civilized race, often in dispute with the woodland folk but civilized none the less. In an older time, they had fought a vicious battle with the humans which sent their king in hiding. The legends say he fled to a mythical land of black sands. The humans there had never seen a gnoll and thus regarded him as a god of some sorts. There he ruled over the land of black sands, totally abandoning his own people for the luxuries given to him by these men. His people however, suffered at the hands of the humans; they appeared as animals to the humans therefore they were treated as such. At their present state, they were perfectly content to sit on the floor by the human dinner tables and beg for scraps of food. This made them ravenous, and their aggression mindless, but they would rarely turn on their human masters for in their mind they only existed to serve the humans. A cold shiver came down Elric’s spine as he realized, the gnolls were hunting for something; they were making their way down the trail of the Whispering Winds coven….
  4. The Mithril Destiny Charles Cruz Dueno Elric examined the mithril blade; it was an intriguing design, created by a method of forgotten metallurgy. The Woodland Spirit was unlike any blade he had ever seen; a slender double edged weapon which was supremely balanced just above the hilt. Its lack of ornate design seemed odd for an elven weapon, yet its function surpassed anything he had ever used before. He had returned to his coven in hopes his teacher would be able to tell him anything of the weapon. He was one of the oldest of elves he knew, and a sage of sorts. He was the grandmaster of the Whispering Winds style, a style which complimented the natural strengths of an elf and compensated for their physical shortcomings. The teacher had trained many in his day, for almost a thousand years; he had produced students from many covens. The Whispering Winds was primarily a defensive form, focusing on evasion, stealth and subtle movements that would off center an opponent. It was he who had told Elric to travel to the monastery several decades ago, which set him on course with his destiny. Upon first glance the wise old master immediately recognized the Woodland Spirit. His eyes lit with an exuberant joy of having lived long enough to see this blade once again. The teacher’s latest pupil had just completed his training at the temple, cleaned himself off and went to find some tea for the two older elves. Elric was impressed with the skill of the younger elf; his choice of weapon was intriguing. A short metal pin roughly twice the size of his hand with a ring in its center. The teacher was happy with the progress of his latest pupil, and insisted Elric take him as an apprentice into the world. Who was Elric to refuse his teacher? The teacher remembered an old master who still remembered a few of the Woodland Spirit’s advanced techniques. It was more than a simple elven long sword; this weapon required the skill of a master elven swordsman. Elric was obviously capable of wielding the weapon, but he needed further instruction if had any hope of using this against the humans. What was far more intriguing, was this master swordsman was a dwarf….
  5. bro you don't need my permission. go for it. this is a pretty freakin interesting experiment. take it as that.
  6. yeah, go ahead and make those spaces. I want to print this out to take home to my wife; she's been fiending for us to do something with that genre so this might inspire her to start writing again. I'm not sure what I see the Orcs as, but certainly wanted to go against the grain with them.
  7. yeah, I just physically change them on the post. you've inspired me to finally come up with a name for the elven style. the "Whispering Wind". where the grand masters would intermix magical abilities with their forms.
  8. Now thats what I'm talking about! nice really nice and it captures the spirit. I think for online purposes, we should get in the practice of putting a space between each paragraph. makes it an easier read. Your letting your skill shine, and your martial arts experience allows you to get into more physical details than I can. thats the strength of this piece is the detail of all the actions.
  9. Bro theres no law saying you couldn't add to this story yourself. hey its a freestyle, I'm just going off of the previous segment. NOTE:as a challenge, instead of calling the weapon by Emei peircers, describe the weapon without actually saying what it is. (I couldn't find a good way to describe anything in the first post.)
  10. hmm, I'll keep that in mind. I think I've seen something simular to that as a Japanese weapon. actually I tried to be real generic with the discriptions of each race; hopefully to let the readers imagination do the work for me. build the picture themselves, I'm just guiding it along. just another one of my experiments. the system itself maybe a bit complicated so I'll let you be the judge of it when you get a copy of it, but this has been some fun writing, shooting straight from the hips with this, so I'll probably read it about 50 times more to see what else I can flesh out. this is helping me develop a few writing techniques.
  11. Hey, thats a ninja weapon? yeah, I like that; I was thinking the elves could equate to several roving ninja clans.
  12. hehehe. thanks again. I think I'll keep updating this from time to time. My "big campaign" is close to completion so I'll probably be sulking for something to keep the mind fresh. this is sort of a freestyle to me, I'm challenging myself to see how much I can write in a short amount of time, and how concise I can keep it. (I got the tendacy to overcomplicate a thought I'm trying to express)
  13. The Ebony Crescent Charles Cruz Dueno The humans barely made it back to the province and the regent was not pleased. He was surprised that the elves still offered him resistance in the woodland realms. Had the regent not been in need of troops to continue his campaign against the woodland folk, he would have most certainly killed them where they stand. The regent had sought this blade the “Woodland Spirit” for some time; he himself was an accomplished swordsman, however his temper was what gave him his reputation. It had earned him the name of the “Angry Swordsman”, a fierce warrior of the human kingdom. His rule was by the steel in his hands, the cold steel that very few but his arm would give life, in a dark metal blade called the “Ebony Crescent”. Each day, he would practice for hours the craft of the Ebony Crescent; the skill required a certain level of strength beyond most elves, and a certain level of dexterity beyond most orcs. The curved single edged blade itself was a terrible weapon, specifically for hacking off the arms, legs or head of anyone foolish enough to cross its master. Some rumored it could cleave a man in two. Only the dwarves could somewhat wield this blade as effectively as a human, though because of their size, the weapon could only be wielded with both hands; more so often then not, they would opt for an axe or hammer. Elves often found this type of weapon awkward, and would require a huge effort on their part to even be considered effective with it. Though the orcs could use it if they wanted to, they could never wield it with the same precision as a human, but because the curved single edged blade was designed for purely killing, they would avoid using this weapon whenever possible. The humans however could use the blade with one hand or both if they wished to generate power with their attack; thus was the core of the Ebony Crescent style. It was deceptive in its execution; at first glance one would think nothing of its simple maneuvers, but the power generated by this weapon was more than enough to even cut through the metal of other blades and into the flesh of its victim. The Ebony Crescent itself was said to be imbued with a dark magic cast by an old shaman, who placed three runes inside the hilt. It was lighter than a normal blade but far more durable. In many battles, the Angry Swordsman would ravage his enemy, slashing through their armor as if paper and often killing his enemies with a single stroke. With this blade, the Angry Swordsman subjugated many to his will, and threatened to become the master of all the human kingdoms. With a blade like this, one wondered what he saw in the Woodland Spirit; but the Angry Swordsman wasn’t interested in the blade itself, rather he wished to crush the hope it represented. The hope that one day, an elven warrior would unlock its secrets and challenge the Ebony Crescent.
  14. The Woodland Spirit Charles Cruz Dueno He had been tracking the war party of humans which set out earlier in the evening from the neighboring kingdom to reinforce the siege of the woodland realm. They took great pains to mask their movements however Elric was an expert tracker. His family had passed their methods from generation to generation in terms of an elven lifespan. He had centuries to hone his craft. It didn’t take long for the elf to catch up with the war party; they were out of their element in the woodland so they took every precaution not to be noticed, but Elric did. He studied their actions, their movements, their steps. All five of them were right handed; they donned studded leather armor, weighed each about 160-170 pounds, and were obviously conscripts of the local regent. Their weapons still smelled of oil, so Elric could tell they were fairly new in the human army, probably farmers pressured into service. They were somewhat unsettled, Elric could tell by their jerky body movements and quick reaction to any sound they heard, be it a frog, a cricket, an owl or the intentional rustle of brush, he kicked up to further keep these men on their guard….. Elric had already anticipated their path, it was the orc monastery; the regent of the neighboring human province had sought for years to undermine the monastery. He was ambitious and hungry for power; it was by a fateful accident that he assumed the leadership of the human province. Such a fate that no member of the former ruler’s family had survived……. They heard a quick snap, a whistle and a thump which sent one of the humans sailing to his back. The human leader quickly took a defensive stance behind the nearest tree and turned to see his soldier writhing in agony on the ground. From his chest protruded an arrow, which the human leader could tell was made by the elves. Their craftsmanship had a distinct style. One of the human soldiers tried to help his comrade but the leader warned him not to. The arrow was dangerously close to an artery and removing it would certainly kill the man. They realized Elric could have killed them at will,but now their advance to the monastery was slowed. A second arrow clipped the leader in the leg. He fell to the ground screaming in pain, his bloody hands clamped over the wound. Immediately another soldier came to his aid, removing his weapons belt and making a quick tourniquet around his leader’s leg. Elric decided now it was time to leave. The human’s own fear would be their worst enemy, and now he could make his way to the orc monastery to find out what the humans wanted. He had not set foot on the monastery grounds in several decades, not since his teacher had asked him to challenge the old orc master that resided there. It was there, he had learned the most valuable lesson to an elf warrior; that was to humble himself and be thankful for the gifts he had; to not let his arrogance blind his mastery of self. He had never talked about his defeat at the hands of the orc master; the elves figured as much. He almost expected to see the old orc master sitting before the shrine; instead he saw the line drawing on the chamber wall with the old cuneiform detailing the life of this master. The orc monks never took a name; they believed to do so would be an extension of the ego, so they were simply known by their descriptions “him with the long grey hair” or “the one with the missing tooth.” As a means of finding peace with death, the orcs would write a brief statement of their life and values in their ancient script. Strangely one of the letters in the line drawing did not resemble anything in the orc script. Most of the orcs could not translate this cuneiform, thinking it was a slip made by the master before he passed away, but Elric realized it was an elven cuneiform. It was one letter however the complexity of the elven language could extrapolate an entire statement or thought in that single letter. He though about it a bit more, it was describing a place. “In the foyer, behind the fountain, in the rock face”. Elric thought to himself for a moment, and then decided he would investigate the fountain in the foyer. When he arrived at the fountain which was set against the stone wall, he stopped and scanned the room around him. It wasn’t a lavish decoration, a few streamers here and there, dimly lit with a draft blowing through the floor. A draft? Elric set aside one of the streamers and began feeling around the wall. His elven fingers were able to prod into the crevices of each stone until he pushed against one which revealed itself as a false wall. With that push the entrance revealed itself exposing a small dark room. It was here in this room he came face to face with his destiny. It was encased in a bone white scabbard with a single notch allowing the blade to be drawn with the push of his thumb. With no hilt guard, the weapon itself appeared as a walking stick but the blade itself was made of mithril, an old metal from an ancient time when elves were numerous in the woodland realm. Up until now, Elric had only thought such things were of legend, of no real substance. The orc master obviously knew that someday he would no longer be around to protect the woodland, and he had chosen Elric as the new protector and wielder of the “Woodland Spirit”. This was the blade that could make a difference in the war for the woodland realm, and obviously the regent was determined to acquire this blade, and all of the secrets it possessed.
  15. Thanks; I wasn't sure how people would take to this concept so the encouragement is helpful.
  16. Actually, just wrote that one over my break, just a few minutes ago. I'm still testing that system we were talking about but this kind of hits the theme a little.
  17. The Orc Monastery Charles Cruz Dueno The elf entered the dimly lit main chamber. The musky aroma was mixed with the warm fragrance of the candles, obviously scented to mask the musk. On the walls hung old line drawings of several orc masters from past generations, detailing the rich tradition of their school. Towards the end of the room was a somewhat lavish shrine, draped in red fabric, several candelabra on either side and before it sat the old Orc master. A disciple of the enlightened path; one of the last Orc schools still left in the world. The elf paid his respects at the shrine; it was a memorial to the first Orc master who had taught the Orcs to abandon their barbaric ways several centuries ago, and to respect life in all its forms. He taught them patience and honor, and with him ended the long bitter feuds with the other races of their realm, namely the Dwarves and Elves. They became the protectors of the woodland folk, when the humans would launch their ruthless campaign which threatened genocide. The elves and dwarves were all but destroyed when the Orcs came to their aid, and so ended the millennium old dogma of the stereotypical Orc. Centuries later although they would maintain much of their physical traits, their nature was passive and gentle; a total misnomer of what they once were. That was however without its faults, for there were still some who felt the Orcs had grown soft and placid. But it was a measure of any elven master to test himself against the Orcs. They were physically superior to any Elf as far as physical combat went, though the Orcs didn’t have the speed or grace of an Elf. Today this Elven master was about to stand the test... They both took their positions across from each other in the chamber. The Elves preferred the long sword as a companion to their bow; for when their enemies would close in on the range of their most effective weapon, the composite bow. The Orcs often choose various pole arms and long spears, for they had the physical strength to make best use of them; however they were masters of many weapons. The elf drew his long sword and with a quick circular movement charged with an overhand cut. The orc expertly met the long sword blade with the edge of his spear, quickly guiding the momentum downward then returning with an upward cut, narrowly evaded by the spinning action of the elf. With the completion of his spin, the elf again struck with his long sword this time, with a cut in which the elf then pulled in and thrust the blade foreword. Again the orc parried the attack with his spear misdirecting the momentum with a subtle body movement and a shift of footing to change the angle of engagement. He then return with a spear thrust of his own, only to be parried by the elven blade. The elf’s dexterity was impressive, for he managed to kick the orc off balance for but a moment, but that was all that was needed. As the orc struggled to regain his footing, the elf continued his advance scoring a quick scratch off the orc’s thick right arm, followed with another spinning sword attack. These spinning attacks generated power for the elves, which were at a disadvantage to the orcs, but the orc master saw the error of the elven master. He smiled, briefly puzzling the elf who again scored with another sword slash. The orc stepped aside the elf’s next attack and with an expert spin of the long spear swept the elf off of his feet. The elven master landed on his face, his ego bruised more than he was, but with a quick roll, the elf was back on his feet. The orc master was obviously impressed; this elf had studied well and perfected his technique, but he already knew where he failed. The orc master advanced on the elf with a flurry of twirling spear movements which if anything were an attempt to distract the elf from his real purpose. The elven master however no amateur he was, quickly parried the orc’s attack with the incredible dexterity that elves were famous for. Within moments the elf had turned the orc’s attack against him, and returned with a flurry of his own. The orc master however met this attack with yet another subtle side step, a quick twist of the spear, and the elf was again on his face. the elf was exhausted from the brief interaction and the orc was about to advance with yet another attack. Another twirl of the spear and the orc held the spear at the ready from behind his back; his other hand extended to the elf to help him back to his feet. There were no words needed for this exchange. While the elf felt the bitter sting of defeat, he also knew the orc master would never tell anyone of his defeat; such was the humble life of an orc master and a lesson in humility to the elven master who realized the real reason he was sent to the orc monastery by his teacher.
  18. Oh, hey we're cool Faraday; that was actually meant as a gag Describe some of those variants, they sound interesting. and what are the guidelines for creating custom variants
  19. Look who your talking to about logisitics, hehehe. I'm pretty comfortable with the HG layout. I dont mind CBT and CAV on this issue though. I got lots of variants already for several mecha. CBT(or ratherthe PC games) -the Kamut Commando (Summoner/Thor) sort of a "Blitz Thor" CBT(or ratherthe PC games) -the Kamut Commando2 (Awesome) My assault Blitz mech CBT(or ratherthe PC games) -unamed(Uziel) My medium Blitz mech CBT(or ratherthe PC games) -unnamed (Cougar) My Light Blitz mech CBT(or ratherthe PC games) -The Terror Cat (Timberwolf/Mad Cat) A heavy fire support Mad Cat CBT(or ratherthe PC games) - The Hell Cat (Timberwolf/Mad Cat) sort of a Blitz Mad Cat CAV UTDF Samurai (Regent) great for taking out dropships, Fast as HELL and tougher than most people think. CAV UTDF Redhawk (Starhawk V) Created when I started making cost comparisons against the newer Starhawk, Fast as HELL, my basic workhorse CAV UTDF Light Striker Panther (Panther) A lot of times we'll slap o F-200s take away the CLP or ECCM for better punch. don't use as much anymore. upgrade the breeder. CAV UTDF Smoker Puma (Puma) This is one we like to replace or Panthers with a double flamer, CLP or ECCM platform but you have to upgrade the breeder with something from KW.
  20. DP9 products are a little tough to come by, I have to wait another week for my strike cadre. so I added a few things to my order. a second Strike cadre some weapon packs and decals. Ultimately, this would be a specialty unit, but I do want to stay within the Southern Milicia scope of things. (just with a funky name) I'm wondering if I did decide to upgrade the strike Cadre, what are some reasonable variations from the basic kit?
  21. KAMUT

    Anime Classics

    Last I heard about the Cobras, the Military was getting rid of them (or rather selling them to the highest bidder). I think the Marines still use the Super Cobra, not sure. don't remember.
  22. KAMUT

    Anime Classics

    Good call Lars I'm still iffy iffy on what weapon it is exactly, but its definately a hitter. I'm not even sure if its even an Apache come to think of it, I thought the pilot's helmet controls the chin gun movements. when you see the camera move it seems kind of eratic, like its controls from a joystick or something.
  23. Thanks for the explaination Faraday and Red. Obviously there are more chassis than the mini's gallery for DP9 is showing, and lots of variants of them too. Could someone provide a quick reference of these variant terminolog. IE Black box = ECCM Chatterbox longe range commo Snake Eye ETC,ETC (I know these aren't right but something like this would give me a clearer picture of things.) Red - Check OOC and SOC threads.
  24. OK, but what are those things, Black Box Iggy and the basilisk thingy. You got me on that?
  25. OK Red We'll be starting the Cassini campaign back up soon, but I got to tie up a few things with the Red Sentinel thread. We're in for some interesting twists. Please submit your latest battle report (eliminate Luietenent Mchale) so I can enter this data in the spread sheet and give you your updated logistics scores. I also need to know how much Artillery was used up.
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