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Thank you guys!

Also the lower foot greeting is the best kind of greeting!

Thank you for taking the time to watch it, Smiley.

Also, cheers for the link to the tutorial. You got something to say?! 

*Blows dust off this thread*

Hello everyone,

After a long hiatus I am beginning work on continuing This Notched and Rusted Blade. Whether there is interest in it any more or not, it's something I always intended to finish!

I saw this when it first was posted back in 2010, I'm rereading the Redwall books and I had a flicker of "I wonder...", I'm glad I came to look! I really hope all goes well with this mod.

It's one I've been thinking about for years now.

Apologies for the double post but I figured since I've made you all wait so long, have another episode. Close on 9 minutes for Episode 9 of TNARB.

Thanks Drom.

Episode Eight is up on the Tube of You, link added to front page of this thread.

Also, I'm in a nice mood so I'm going to add the Scripts to each episode in the information section for each video for our non english speaking friends who have trouble understanding me sometimes.
Episode Seven is already scripted due to the god awful buzzing.

As always, thanks for your support guys, I've decided I'll be keeping TNARB going beyond episode 10.

Sorry to keep you all waiting guys.

Work officially (if you can call it that) begins on TNARB today. Episode 8 will be up within the week. I had to scrap the previous work I had for it due to an artefact error and I got caught up in the whirlwind of life.

Nice to see one of my videos used to promote the mod. 

I'm sparky668 on youtube.

My computer is almost twice as good as it was when I filmed that video and the TNARB episodes. I love the CiD mod, I literally apply it to everything.

Work officially begins this week on Episode 8 of TNARB.

Sven snarled into his helmet as the command crackled in his ear to retreat to the civilians position. Not only did that conflict with his nature, he also began to growl in frustration as he turned his considerable bulk towards the shaft. He wasn't built for speed. Firing several last rounds into the creature he lumbered as fast as he could go in his massive suit. The servos whirred with the added strain he was putting on them and he managed to push himself into a jog. He knew how precise the artillery operatives could be and that left a very wide plain of doubt in his mind as to whether he would reach the safety of the tunnel or not before the surface became a tornado of flame.

Lumbering forward from his crater he sent bursts of controlled death into the lesser creatures. His heavy machine gun thundering like a storm, like the very voice of Thor. His footsteps were just shy of cracking the concrete beneath him, did his suit weigh so much. He wasn't the man for delicate footing nor stealth.
He swung his gun up and to the right to shear the wing off a flying beast, tracking it as it screamed in a spiral to the sandy beach, then stitched its position for good measure.

He stomped up in front of the commander, blocking out the view of the gargantuan beast heading towards them. He grunted against the inside of his curved face plate, checking all his atmospherics and tactical data. He let the barrel cool for three seconds as he swung his frame towards the beast. He began to walk towards it, bracing his gun against his hip. He planted himself a good ten paces infront of the HUNTER squad and drew a bead on his HUD. The tri dot targeted the things face, giving him a close up of it's immense jaw and he grinned to himself.

Then pulled his trigger.

A lightening bright flash of white tracer fire shuddered out of his gun in a constant stream and into the front of the beast, silver dust erupting and misting the air, craters crumped out of its flesh and the air was rent with the sound of roars and his gun.

But still it came. 

Sven spat silver tipped death in bright tracer lines across the wing cluttered sky. The open ground offered to his view from the rear of the transport filled with new targets, large and small. He flexed his thick armour clad knees and braced himself as he opened up with the machine gun on full auto, clearing a path in front of the commander and the rest of the team, pinning the fiends to the ground to watch them explode in white flame or gurgle to death as they spun out of the air. It took a man who knew what he was doing to fire in such close proximity to his squad mates without strafing them.

He sniffed, let the firing gear whir to a stand still as the beasts veered off momentarily, wearing of the stinging death he was lacing the landing zone with. He took two steps and hauled his bulk off the edge of the extended ramp and fell into gravity as the transport roared over towards the shore line. He could hear the air whistling past him, his visor shook with the descent. He mentally braced himself and prayed to the gods above his suits gyros and shock absorption would save his limbs from being turned to jelly.

He slammed into a concrete walkway edging the shale of the shore. Shards speared through the air as the slabs buckled and exploded outwards. He rose to a stand and stepped out of the foot deep crater, shaking debris from his bulky armour. He worked his hands along his machine gun, wracking a long slider back to expose the internals, he lifted the top plate and disconnected the spent ammo case. He hauled it over one shoulder and then stuck his fingers into the gun to draw out the cracked barrel. He flung that to.

He reached behind him to his large power pack and pulled one of the ammo crates he'd stored there from its magnetic plate. He snapped it into place, fed the first belt into the gun breach and then slid a fresh barrel into the gun itself and clicked it into place. Down came the top guard and his hand primed the weapon. He swung to face the Commander and began to track the approaching creatures with four round bursts to the face.

Hey guys,

Sorry there has been a lax in episodes, real life is a bit of a bastard recently. I've got the next three episodes planned up and a lot of work done, it'll be a while before they see the light of day though.

TNARB is by no means dead!

Thanks guys, for all the support.

When Reapers response rattled through his ear piece he gave a deep, booming, laugh. The sound cut across the squad link like a thrash of thunder. The ramp, punched through by their pilot, ground downwards with a keening scream of metal on metal. Sven cricked his neck, letting the vertebrae pop one by one. He flexed his fingers and held the huge cannon to his hip as the ramp cleared his vision, giving the giant blonde monster a clear view of the winged sharks spreading their glide towards the transport.

" Slutet ... komma."

He whispered to himself as he squeezed the trigger. His suit had acquired the nearest viable target and with a thudding scream his machine gun spat into life, sending stitches of silver death in bursts of twenty rounds into the visible demons. The giant cackled as he fired in controlled bursts, evidently knowing his business.

He split a grin, that transformed his rather placid face into a deaths head. His skin pulled taunt against his bone structure and he looked truly monstrous as stitch told his gruesome story. Sven looked fascinated. Then Commander Cross cut in, giving him the order he'd been waiting for. He threw one hand up, gripped the pole running down the centre of the transport and hauled himself to his feet. With a twist of his wrist he slammed his long axe against the side of his power pack, hearing the magnetic click. He nodded to their commander, the fiery red head Cross. He unclipped his bulky environment helmet from his thigh plate and thumped it down upon his head. The curved mirror plate that covered his face flashed up instantly the moment the seal clicked in place around his neck. A circular cross-hair spiralled across the view screen in movement with his eyes. Distance read outs and a digital clock and compass whirred in left and right corners.

"Yes....Commander. "

He stopped over to the very lip of the landing ramp and his suit locked it'self from the hips down. The juggernaut was going no where. He braced the heavy machine gun against his hip, checking it's ammo feed, seeing the gleam of silver tipped rounds and then smirked, slamming the breach shut. He braced himself and cut a link through to their pilot.

"Reaper!....when you are ready....lower the landing ramp so I can clear the LZ....before touch down!"

He set his huge shoulders and twisted himself left and right on his central suit axis. He relished the opportunity to cause pain.

The big man sat cramped at the rear of the transport, closest to the exit. He cradled the machine gun in his arms, holding it like a mother protecting her baby. He turned his head, his blond mohawk wavering as the wind whipped through the transport vehicle. Raising an eyebrow at Bundie and her chainsword he couldn't help but echo their commanding officer in laughing.

"I approve of your choice! "

He reached behind him, clutching at the long steel shaft magnetised to the side of his suits power pack. He tugged it from the back of him and brought it round to clang down onto the decking of the transport bed. The axe was three feet long, steel shafted with a carbon bonded head, strong enough to cut through all manner of things.

"This is mine, never runs out of fuel. "

Amman de Stazia said:

ummm...  I meant I was picking the most simple of the options Incaa showed.  (AR-88??)

I'd prefer an AK47 for my character because (a) I have some idea about that and (b) it would fit her character
but I thought we had to take what was offered?

Click to expand...

Ahh, sorry. That would be my sleep-deprived and caffeine riddled brain. Let get on changing that for you.

The big man used his long fingers to prime the gun for set up then hovered his thumb over the safety catch. He waited a second, running things through his head, before clicking it in place and swinging the massive gun to an ease position.

Then the civilian began to talk at him. She'd gone straight for an AR-88. Workhorse of the armed H.U.N.T.E.R squads. He couldn't help but give a stupid grin through his beard, so simple even a child can operate them. He nodded his head and stepped towards her. His huge bulk blocked the vault behind him and he pointed to a slim iron lever upon the side of the assault rifle. Shaped much like a tear drop.

"This, is your safety catch. If it's up, you're good to shoot people in their face. If it is down, not so much. "

He then moved his finger slowly and deliberately to a half centimeter long iron catch in front of the trigger guard and behind the magazine.

"This is your release catch. Don't hit it in the middle of a fight or you might as well start hurling foul language at the beasts. "

He gave a friendly smile from that big tattooed and hairy face of his.

Sven listened intently to the banter between the 'civi' and the Commander. No pomp or formal introduction. Good, he liked that. It kept things simple. His previous superior had been all about unit bonding and soppy crap that got people killed. He tilted his head slightly, the golden torc around his neck clacking against the hardened structure of his torso armour. His ink spiralled around his neck and down into his suit of armour. The big block letters SSD sat over one eye. He nodded his mohawked head and then listened to the squad medic natter on about the hazards of radiation.

He gave a low chuckle and clapped the smaller man on the back with one of his wide hands.

"I need not worry about such things, if I die, I die, if I don't....well, that's why you are here, doc."

He turned his huge bulk away from the group with a wide smile spread across his face. He retrieved his environmental helmet and clipped it to his belt and began to procedure of feeding a drum mag into the huge machine gun clutched reverently in his hands. It was time, to go shoot something and he was as giddy as a school child.