Rolled 39 (1d100)
>>5678834>>5678822The Marauder had been repaired so many times...Laying there in the rain and mud, trying to play dead while those fucks tried to rip it apart. These new generation machines; no respect to them. None at all. With a groan the cyborg got up, and set to fixing itself again. A passing vagrant took care of the worst of the resupply requirements. They always do.
some still water caught the Marauder's reflection for a moment as it passed under a decrepit bridge. "L-0-0-00oook1n-g g.g.Goo0d." The loss of the psychogenic gas was made up for with some new armor plates and a bit more mobility. It was time to get to business though. It fiddle with the remnants of it's former hand axe for a bit before making another oversized crude knife. "Pe-er0er-fec-t-ect-ect-ion." With a knife in hand and a several hearts full of hope, the marauder took off after 4L and Fizz, it was going to just have the best day!
...A short while later It broke into the Lighthouse, oblivious to the many, many, many, 1c robots embedded into the walls. "Hel..elll...ellloo. o o oooooo". No responses. The sympathetic combat fist scanned around, finding most recent hormonal and biological traces in the lower level of this facility. They were going down! Down in time to see that 4L robot falling apart and tumbling into a Pit. Time to slip on some sort of meat-plant thing.
Knowing things were about to be bad, the Marauder uploaded all its data and improved schematics, trying to reach its patrons.
