In the latest "Its Tuesday Again" thread, jim mentioned that unexpected die rolls which are difficult to write into the story might come up and delay
his post. To help him out, I have pre-written scenes from some of those unexpected die rolls, so jim can simply cut and paste to save time. Please enjoy, you
may be seeing some of these soon in upcoming chapters of LT-EG!
---==*==---
Back to the New World for another installment, let's see what old Browning is up to. The roll… success! I knew he would be lucky. And with whom? Let's see… Oh dear, I just put that into the table for a laugh, I never thought it would come up. Well, the dice have decreed…
-+-
As the sun streamed in through the window, Max Browning rolled over in bed and gazed upon his beloved. The sunlight was not the only glow on her face, nor on his. Max recalled the previous twelve hours and smiled.
As she stirred, Max purred, "Good morning darling. Would you like to have breakfast in bed?"
"How about some coffee and Montrose's toast," she replied.
"For you, Terilyn, anything."
---==*==---
Now its time for a bit of side plot development. Typical setup, and so and so, now the roll for reaction… Well, that's odd. How can that happen? Is there sticky jam on these dice? Mmm, strawberry…
-+-
Imperator, Course 180, Speed 18 knots
Six pairs of eyes scrunched tight. Six swarthy heads bowed to the deck. Six sets of gluteus maximi clenched in dread. The worst had happened - they had run out of food. Somehow, the vast pantries of the great liner had emptied, and they were yet a day from port! Surely, it was an infidel conspiracy, designed to inconvenience their master, and yet it was they, his most faithful servants, who would suffer the almighty's wrath.
In trepidation, the one who had drawn the short straw (inedible straw, unfortunately) approached the mighty Pasha with the final meager plate of pastries, bearing less than half of what normally constituted the great one's mid-afternoon snack. "Your Excellency," he began in a quavering voice, "strawberry tarts from the kitchen. I don't know how to tell you this but-"
"No thank you," the Pasha replied. "I'm full."
---==*==---
Now that's taken care of, lets see how our favorite Commodore will bedevil me today. How many times has he darted in under the guns of the First Scouting Group and lived to tell the tale? Well today, the dice say… Oh, Commodore, you will nott like this…
-+-
HMS Southampton, Course 225, Speed 22 knots
"Lookouts, is the ocean still empty?"
"Yup." "Yup." "Mmm-hmm." "Dang old nuthin, man."
Commodore Nott stood on the starboard bridge wing, sweating. He stared out at the horizon. The Hun battlecruisers were out there, somewhere, waiting to trap him. He knew it! Every time Nott had put to sea, it seemed, no matter where he sailed, he ran into German battlecruisers! Some in his command credited him with a supernatural tracking ability. Nott just considered it bad luck.
The Commodore moved through the bridge out to the port wing. They must be here, he could feel them, yet still nothing in sight. "Lookouts!"
"Hey, I see land! I think it's… Cuba?"
---==*==---
Now what to do about those photos of the battle? Getting the ones of the rescue operations and the captured British Admiral published would be quite a coup, but the Germans would never allow the pics of the sinking HSF dreadnoughts to get out. How can I make this work? And in a way that would not draw cries of unreality from the readers who always point out the crudeness of German diplomacy. Well, the dice must decide…
-+-
Blue Fox waited with some trepidation in the foyer. An audience with Kaiser Wilhelm II ! This was something he could never have expected when he first set foot on board that liner. The photos he had taken already caused quite a stir, and there were rumors going around that he might not get to keep them all. Blue had reams of superb interviews with everyone from Albert Ballin down to the Imperator's stokers, from victorious German Admirals and captured British ones, but without those photos… A picture is worth a thousand words, and all that. But now an audience with the Kaiser!
Blue started as the official announcement barely preceded His Imperial Majesty, and the Kaiser strode into the foyer. "Young man, I understand you have some impressive photographs of my fleet in action," he said, grasping the American's hand warmly. "Come into my study, and we will discuss this. You see, while I would love to show off my world-class battleships, there are some things that are a bit too… It is wartime afterall."
Blue was taken aback, but determined not to lose his photographs without a fight. "Your Majesty, I was invited aboard Imperator with the request that I document the voyage. All aspects of the voyage. And I had the understanding that I would retain full rights. The American people look down on censorship…"
Wilhelm waved him off. "I am prepared to offer you access to other photos, in exchange for holding onto, temporarily, some of those from your recent voyage. These photos I will give you are quite historic, and of course you will have exclusive use of them for your own paper."
Blue gasped. "Do you mean…? Could they be…?"
"Yes," replied Wilhelm. "They are the photos of my family's trip to EuroDisney last summer."
---==*==---
Almost done. All right, roll for the salvo from Derfflinger, double-zero! With the modifier, that's… Wow! Now roll for secondary effects, double-zero again! And the nearest is… of course, of course. All right, I get another roll, double-zero again! And that means… All right, how long can I keep this up? Double-zero again!
-+-
Derfflinger, course 270, speed 18 knots
Captain Theodor watched through his binoculars as Derfflinger's latest salvo roared towards its target. He blinked as he saw multiple flashes on board Warspite as the shells struck home. Theodor dropped the binoculars reflexively as the fireball resulting from Warspite's aft magazine detonation blinded him. Blinking away the spots, he said a quick prayer for the crew of the shattered super-dreadnought, feeling no enmity, only sympathy.
Unfortunately for the Royal Navy, Captain Theodor was not the only one feeling sympathy. A thousand yards from the fireball, the magazine of Queen Elizabeth, class leader of the sinking Warspite, suffered a sympathetic detonation, consigning her to the same fate as her sister.
A mile ahead of the twin conflagrations, all on board the seven-turreted Agincourt felt a great deal of sympathy as well, more than they would ever know, in fact, as the multiple magazines within the ex-Turkish ex-Brazilian monstrosity suffered their own sympathetic detonation. Blasted to atoms, the shock waves emanating from the turret farm reached out to wreck the other vessels grouped in the protective Stegosaur formation. Vanguard, as her name indicated, was the first to lead the charge to the bottom. Neptune also moved quickly to examine the depths of its namesake's kingdom. Marlborough slipped beneath the waves, the turbulent waters finally enabling her to quit smoking. Bellerophon too was rent apart, and sank without a trace. The Grand Fleet was gone.
"Well, that's something you don't see every day," commented Admiral Necki.
"It happens more often than you would think," replied Captain Theodor.
---==*==---
Back to the New World for another installment, let's see what old Browning is up to. The roll… success! I knew he would be lucky. And with whom? Let's see… Oh dear, I just put that into the table for a laugh, I never thought it would come up. Well, the dice have decreed…
-+-
As the sun streamed in through the window, Max Browning rolled over in bed and gazed upon his beloved. The sunlight was not the only glow on her face, nor on his. Max recalled the previous twelve hours and smiled.
As she stirred, Max purred, "Good morning darling. Would you like to have breakfast in bed?"
"How about some coffee and Montrose's toast," she replied.
"For you, Terilyn, anything."
---==*==---
Now its time for a bit of side plot development. Typical setup, and so and so, now the roll for reaction… Well, that's odd. How can that happen? Is there sticky jam on these dice? Mmm, strawberry…
-+-
Imperator, Course 180, Speed 18 knots
Six pairs of eyes scrunched tight. Six swarthy heads bowed to the deck. Six sets of gluteus maximi clenched in dread. The worst had happened - they had run out of food. Somehow, the vast pantries of the great liner had emptied, and they were yet a day from port! Surely, it was an infidel conspiracy, designed to inconvenience their master, and yet it was they, his most faithful servants, who would suffer the almighty's wrath.
In trepidation, the one who had drawn the short straw (inedible straw, unfortunately) approached the mighty Pasha with the final meager plate of pastries, bearing less than half of what normally constituted the great one's mid-afternoon snack. "Your Excellency," he began in a quavering voice, "strawberry tarts from the kitchen. I don't know how to tell you this but-"
"No thank you," the Pasha replied. "I'm full."
---==*==---
Now that's taken care of, lets see how our favorite Commodore will bedevil me today. How many times has he darted in under the guns of the First Scouting Group and lived to tell the tale? Well today, the dice say… Oh, Commodore, you will nott like this…
-+-
HMS Southampton, Course 225, Speed 22 knots
"Lookouts, is the ocean still empty?"
"Yup." "Yup." "Mmm-hmm." "Dang old nuthin, man."
Commodore Nott stood on the starboard bridge wing, sweating. He stared out at the horizon. The Hun battlecruisers were out there, somewhere, waiting to trap him. He knew it! Every time Nott had put to sea, it seemed, no matter where he sailed, he ran into German battlecruisers! Some in his command credited him with a supernatural tracking ability. Nott just considered it bad luck.
The Commodore moved through the bridge out to the port wing. They must be here, he could feel them, yet still nothing in sight. "Lookouts!"
"Hey, I see land! I think it's… Cuba?"
---==*==---
Now what to do about those photos of the battle? Getting the ones of the rescue operations and the captured British Admiral published would be quite a coup, but the Germans would never allow the pics of the sinking HSF dreadnoughts to get out. How can I make this work? And in a way that would not draw cries of unreality from the readers who always point out the crudeness of German diplomacy. Well, the dice must decide…
-+-
Blue Fox waited with some trepidation in the foyer. An audience with Kaiser Wilhelm II ! This was something he could never have expected when he first set foot on board that liner. The photos he had taken already caused quite a stir, and there were rumors going around that he might not get to keep them all. Blue had reams of superb interviews with everyone from Albert Ballin down to the Imperator's stokers, from victorious German Admirals and captured British ones, but without those photos… A picture is worth a thousand words, and all that. But now an audience with the Kaiser!
Blue started as the official announcement barely preceded His Imperial Majesty, and the Kaiser strode into the foyer. "Young man, I understand you have some impressive photographs of my fleet in action," he said, grasping the American's hand warmly. "Come into my study, and we will discuss this. You see, while I would love to show off my world-class battleships, there are some things that are a bit too… It is wartime afterall."
Blue was taken aback, but determined not to lose his photographs without a fight. "Your Majesty, I was invited aboard Imperator with the request that I document the voyage. All aspects of the voyage. And I had the understanding that I would retain full rights. The American people look down on censorship…"
Wilhelm waved him off. "I am prepared to offer you access to other photos, in exchange for holding onto, temporarily, some of those from your recent voyage. These photos I will give you are quite historic, and of course you will have exclusive use of them for your own paper."
Blue gasped. "Do you mean…? Could they be…?"
"Yes," replied Wilhelm. "They are the photos of my family's trip to EuroDisney last summer."
---==*==---
Almost done. All right, roll for the salvo from Derfflinger, double-zero! With the modifier, that's… Wow! Now roll for secondary effects, double-zero again! And the nearest is… of course, of course. All right, I get another roll, double-zero again! And that means… All right, how long can I keep this up? Double-zero again!
-+-
Derfflinger, course 270, speed 18 knots
Captain Theodor watched through his binoculars as Derfflinger's latest salvo roared towards its target. He blinked as he saw multiple flashes on board Warspite as the shells struck home. Theodor dropped the binoculars reflexively as the fireball resulting from Warspite's aft magazine detonation blinded him. Blinking away the spots, he said a quick prayer for the crew of the shattered super-dreadnought, feeling no enmity, only sympathy.
Unfortunately for the Royal Navy, Captain Theodor was not the only one feeling sympathy. A thousand yards from the fireball, the magazine of Queen Elizabeth, class leader of the sinking Warspite, suffered a sympathetic detonation, consigning her to the same fate as her sister.
A mile ahead of the twin conflagrations, all on board the seven-turreted Agincourt felt a great deal of sympathy as well, more than they would ever know, in fact, as the multiple magazines within the ex-Turkish ex-Brazilian monstrosity suffered their own sympathetic detonation. Blasted to atoms, the shock waves emanating from the turret farm reached out to wreck the other vessels grouped in the protective Stegosaur formation. Vanguard, as her name indicated, was the first to lead the charge to the bottom. Neptune also moved quickly to examine the depths of its namesake's kingdom. Marlborough slipped beneath the waves, the turbulent waters finally enabling her to quit smoking. Bellerophon too was rent apart, and sank without a trace. The Grand Fleet was gone.
"Well, that's something you don't see every day," commented Admiral Necki.
"It happens more often than you would think," replied Captain Theodor.
