Firearms Complications

Called Shot allows a character to target parts of a body or smaller targets in general. A target the size of a small dog or a human leg incurs a –1 penalty. A target the size of a housecat or a human head incurs a –2 penalty to attack. A successful called shot to the head or groin or similarly vulnerable location increases a weapon's damage rating by +1 and any resulting injuries may be limited to those reasonably suffered by such attacks.

Range Any target in short range affords an attacker +1 die. At Long Range an attacker suffers a –1 penalty and at Very Long Range, it increases by –2.

For a normal Heavy Pistol, Short Range is 10 feet, Medium Range is 30 feet, Long Range is 50 and Very Long Range is 60 feet. For a normal Rifle, Short Range is 15 feet, Medium Range is 50 feet, Long Range is 100 and Very Long Range is 200 feet.

Cover penalizes a ranged attacker. An attacker suffers a penalty of –1 if about half a target is visible and –2 should only a head and shoulder be visible. Should the target be completely hidden, they cannot be targeted.

Stances act as cover with some penalties. Taking a Knee will provide a Cover of -1 but one may not move, dodge melee or dodge brawl attacks in the round one benefits from this.  

Belly Down usually provides a Cover of -2 or more, but one cannot dodge melee or brawl attacks, may only move 5 feet a round and standing up from Belly Down costs an Action.

A Burst is a way of throwing more bullets at an opponent without losing too much control of the firearm. A burst expends 3 rounds of ammunition and provides a bonus of +1 to To Hit.  

Drop Lead means to rapidly empty one's firearm of ammunition at one target.   Dropping Lead expends all the ammunition of a firearm containing at least 6 rounds and provides a +2 bonus to To Hit.

Full Auto is a function of fully automatic weapons.   This requires at least 20 rounds left in the firearm.   It works just as Drop Lead, but provides a +3 bonus to To Hit. Alternately, Full Auto can incur a -1 penalty To Hit, but affect up to 1D6 targets in a small area. If a character uses a full auto function while only wielding the gun in a single hand, the character suffers an additional –3 penalty.

Elements of Combat
Basic Complications
Melee Complications
Firearms Complications
Moderate Injuries
Moderate Injuries Table
Severe Injuries
Severe Injuries Table

Coffin shifted quickly and placed his eye back to the scope of his rifle. He focused on the screw. It was big. Gangly and disjointed it continued its pursuit of Grayson. Matted gray fur cut with darker stripes slicked to it's body by some ichor. It moved like neither animal nor man, both graceful and clumsy and fast, fast, fast. Coffin tried to hold to its broad, cat-like head, but it moved too erratically. It's too-thin limbs and ambling lope over the corpses of dozens of cats were grossly familiar to Coffin. He thought of the walking sticks his son used to keep in an aquarium. They're called Phasmatodea, dad. It means Ghost Insect.

"It’s the screw workin' me," Coffin thought and cleared his head, but he had lost the screw in his scope. He scanned with his other eye and spotted Grayson in full sprint, his eyes lit wide and white with terror. The screw was scant feet behind him, it's feline visage serene and without emotion, but it's body language betrayed a orgiastic blood-lust. Coffin quickly closed his left eye and moved to re-aim.

As Grayson reached the rotted wooden fence surrounding the property he dove head first to clear the obstacle. As he leapt, the screw lashed out with a four-toed claw and caught him with only one nail, slicing into his Achilles heel and bringing him straight down onto the wooden slats.

"Fuck, fuck mother-fucking, fuck!" Coffin whispered and zeroed back onto the buddha-cat face. He breathed out slowly to steady the shot, resisting the growing urge to cough and squeezed the trigger. A crack echoed throughout the swamp and the screw stood upright, a small black hole in its cheek. Sometimes, screws don't seem so bothered with bullets.

"Must be one of those types," thought Coffin. "Sorry Grayson, hope I don't never see you when I'm working, brother…" As he picked up his gear and began to jog to the exit.

A quick staccato of pistol fire followed and the screw's thin torso pocked with a dozen bullet holes. It fell incapacitated. A few seconds later, Coffin stood coughing violently into his hand over Grayson. Grayson was trapped in a tangle of rotted wooden fence and still had the screw's claw through his heel. He dropped the empty pistols, removed the claw and accepted Coffin’s hand as he limped away from the mess. Grayson smiled and stepped back from the twitching form of the screw.

"I knew you wouldn't leave me," he said looking for some reaction in Coffin, but his face was hidden by his hands as he lit another cigarette.

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