(The title is funny because I can't draw, and the Protagonist suffers from amnesia. DO HO HO.)
((Oh yeah this is a text-based adventure game. >Do your replies like this))
You open your eyes.
It is currently Night.
You are seated in the front seat of a helicopter, crashed beyond recognition. The seat is sturdily bolted to the floor of the wreck, but the seatbelt seems loose enough. In the seat next to you sits the mangle corpse of what is presumably the pilot. In the rear of the wreck, a fire burns, with it's source coming from the engine.
You have on you your STREET CLOTHES, a BATTERED HEADSET similar to the one worn by the corpse next to you, and an EMPTY BALLPOINT PEN.
To your rear, you can hear the sounds of men walking, and speaking in a language unfamiliar to you. Occasionally, a flashlight beam will shine into the sky.
You feel an intense urge to get away from these men.
You scramble out of the only known exit to the helicopter, through the windshield.
You are standing in a barren wasteland. To your rear is a Helicopter Wreck, as well as a group of unknown men. You cannot see anything in the other directions.
You need a direction in which to run. Any of the cardinal directions will work, but considering you don't quite know what direction is which, you can simple specify a relative direction (Forward, Back, Left, Right).
The wallet contains a small amount of paper, probably currency, and several identification cards. The man was indeed a pilot, cleared to fly large fixed wing aircraft as well as helicopters and rotorcraft. The name on the cards reads "Peter Cummings"
They don't seem to be letting up. A bullet connects with your left hand. Blood streams down your left arm. You now take a -1 penalty to dexterity when the left hand is involved.
You cannot stab any of the men from this distance.
After being thoroughly assured that the men are gone, you examine yourself. Your left hand has a rather large chunk blasted out of it, you find difficulty moving your middle- and ring-fingers. You quickly bandage the wound with a strip of cloth from your shirt.
There is nothing of interest on the other side of the wreck, save for the still-warm shell casings of the mens' rifles. You would need to further examine them to determine the caliber.
((Oh yeah this is a text-based adventure game. >Do your replies like this))
You open your eyes.
It is currently Night.
You are seated in the front seat of a helicopter, crashed beyond recognition. The seat is sturdily bolted to the floor of the wreck, but the seatbelt seems loose enough. In the seat next to you sits the mangle corpse of what is presumably the pilot. In the rear of the wreck, a fire burns, with it's source coming from the engine.
You have on you your STREET CLOTHES, a BATTERED HEADSET similar to the one worn by the corpse next to you, and an EMPTY BALLPOINT PEN.
To your rear, you can hear the sounds of men walking, and speaking in a language unfamiliar to you. Occasionally, a flashlight beam will shine into the sky.
You feel an intense urge to get away from these men.
What will you do?
>Loot the corpse!
You undo the harness, and are now freed of the seat.
You quickly search the corpse. On it, you find:
STREET CLOTHES (Being worn)
BATTERED HEADSET (Being worn)
WALLET
You may be able to find more if you search more thoroughly.
An intense beam of light shines onto the helicopter, and the men begin to speak more frantically.
>GET THE **** OUT OF THERE
You scramble out of the only known exit to the helicopter, through the windshield.
You are standing in a barren wasteland. To your rear is a Helicopter Wreck, as well as a group of unknown men. You cannot see anything in the other directions.
INVENTORY:
WALLET
STREET CLOTHES (Being worn)
BATTERED HEADSET (Being worn)
BALLPOINT PEN
>Open up wallet.
The wallet contains a small amount of paper, probably currency, and several identification cards. The man was indeed a pilot, cleared to fly large fixed wing aircraft as well as helicopters and rotorcraft. The name on the cards reads "Peter Cummings"
>Be amused by the deceased pilot's last name.
You hear one of the men behind you yell just as one of their flashlights becomes focused on you. Gunfire erupts, and bullets whiz by.
You silently chuckle at the man's last name.
((Probably last update for two or so days, gonna be in Mobile on vacation. Will update when I get back.))
>_
They don't seem to be letting up. A bullet connects with your left hand. Blood streams down your left arm. You now take a -1 penalty to dexterity when the left hand is involved.
You cannot stab any of the men from this distance.
You hold your breath, (d20 = 15+0 CON) and manage to hold it long enough for the men to be satisfied that you are, indeed, dead.
The men walk back in the direction they came from, quickly vanishing from view.
After being thoroughly assured that the men are gone, you examine yourself. Your left hand has a rather large chunk blasted out of it, you find difficulty moving your middle- and ring-fingers. You quickly bandage the wound with a strip of cloth from your shirt.
There is nothing of interest on the other side of the wreck, save for the still-warm shell casings of the mens' rifles. You would need to further examine them to determine the caliber.