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3rd submission TOURNAMENT IN JUNE

The Brawl is back! And we've taken it to a whole new level. No elimination, no arty/air strike, and crazy rules for each round.

This tourney was designed to give everyone a fighting chance from beginning to end. Teams will be automatically seeded agaisnt teams of equal score each round.

This is the chance to feature our lesser known groups, vets looking for a change of scenery, and lonewolves looking to take on a challenge with their friends.

We've mixed things up from beginning to end to create something only the Beer Warriors can give you.

Example: round 1 forces both teams to be on Team 1. Yup. No more useful IFF tags.

So spread the word and join The Brawl! Sign ups close on the 29th so you dont have much time!

http://thebrawl.clanwebsite.com

Edited by RedSail, 19 May 2015 - 02:31 PM.

Well....I might as well share a story I posted a long time ago:

Nokatunga City Space Port
Nokatunga
Duchy of Tamarind
The Free Worlds League
August 20
3032

With eyes burning from a mixture of sweat, battlefield soot and tears, Adam Baines gazed across the scorched, hot tarmac, numb. The Rangers had been his family. He had grown up with them, broken bread with them, laughed and joked with them. He had also graced a few fellow warriors with the presence of his fist on their jaws after a long night of playing Four-Card Drax with one to many Timbiqui Dark’s consumed. He had also cried and shared the pain of loss with the rag tag, but resourceful, bunch. Now, all he felt was numb. The Cols. Blood feud with the Dragoons is what brought him to this place today, this place of senseless death and loss. He shared the Col. Hatred of the Dragoons, as any long time member of the unit did, especially those with long family ties like himself, but he also loved his family and his home. This last debacle was too much to bear. Too much had been lost because of hatred. The Irregulars, who defeated them on the battle field today, were not even the Dragoons for God’s sake!

It was just a loose association and whispers of closer ties, but nothing more. That old goat Cranston Snord had gotten the best of the Rangers, him and that daughter of his, Rhonda, who just loved to blast music over the battle field from specially attached speakers on her mech as she picked his brothers and sisters apart. Someone had told him the music was from an ancient Terran musician named Elvis. As much as he wanted to hate it, he had to admit that it had a good beat and he could dance to it. He knew he would never forget the haunting words of one of the songs that she was blasting while taking his lance apart:

“You make me so lonely baby….."

Davidson’s Jagermech shuddered under the first volley of LRM 20 fire from the Pink Highlander, and then crumbled to the ground face first in the muddy field. No Scream, no yell for help, just silence. Rhonda Snord Advanced.

“I get so lonely…..”

A sonic slug streaked across the battle field connecting with Clarkson’s already damaged leg, shearing the Thunderbolts leg clean off. The precision of the gauss round belied the speed at which she continued to advance.

“I get so lonely I could die”

Never had Adam realized you could see fear in the movement of a mech before today. But he saw it for sure in the gate and movement of Bill Harrison’s Dragon as the Highlander turned its attention on him. The mech stuttered to a halt and froze, the shoulders of the majestic Dragon slumping as if resigned to it’s fate. Snord did not hesitate, loosing the SRM 6 and pair of medium lasers into an already exposed center torso. The way the Dragon suddenly jerked uncontrollably and fell to the ground it was clear the gryo had taken its final hit, destroying the innards of the old family heirloom.

The Highlander turn to Baines in his Blackjack, nick named Bomb Digity, and had almost seemed surprised that it was there. It was as if the Highlander had just remembered to take out the garbage after getting side tracked with pulling weeds out of the garden. During the previous volleys with his destroyed lance-mates, Baines had swung wide right of the altercation, trying to close the distance to bring his AC20 into its most effective range while trying to get to the Highlanders blind side. He thought the liberal use of his jumpjets would help him go undetected. Apparently it was not. He knew he had only a few more seconds before the gauss rifle was fully charged to fire again, so he charged. Counting in his head the amount of seconds since the gauss had last fire, Adam ignited a short burst of his jump jets just when he thought the Highlander could fire the weapon again, drifting up and slightly to the left. The timing was perfect as Rhonda Snord discharged the gauss rifle, with the slug missing wide right. Still gliding a bit, but slowly coming down, Adam was within 12 meters now. Using all of the concentration available to him after a long day of fighting, he fire the AC20 right into the center mass of the Highlander followed quickly by the trio of medium laser from his right arm and torso. As he landed all he could see was smoke a dust in the air; the Highlander could not be seen through the haze. As he smile in triumph, his attention turned to his lance mates searching from them on his sensors. That’s when the world itself seemed to come apart in a split second, as if the Norse God Thor had smashed his hammer into the planet, bringing darkness to Adam’s consciousness.

He did not know how long he had been out, but when he awoke, he was on his back in his mech’s command couch. His head was spinning with sharp pains as he battled to retain his consciousness. After a moment his hearing began to return, and was greeted with the wailing of cockpit sirens and emergency beeps. His cockpit was lit up like a pinball machine. He had never seen so many warning indictors flashing at once. There was a large crack in the cockpit glass that smoke was escaping from. It must have started to rain during the altercation that he had not noticed before, as water was dripping from the same crack in the glass into his cockpit. After a moment of composing himself and opening and shutting his jaw a few times (it felt like there was something loose in there) he checked the status of his mech: Engine online but severely damaged, Sensors destroyed. He retained the AC20 and one medium laser but the AC20 was not going to fire anytime soon as it showed as jammed. As his head screamed in pain he wondered what the hell had happened?

Battlecam footage from his mech and other mysterious sources that he saw long after the battle, would show that after firing his AC20 and landing, the Highlander emerged from the smoke, striding the few meters between it and his Blackjack like some sort of Avenging menace while he was unaware, and in one fluid motion pulled back its left hand and arm and delivered the hammer blow of Thor, striking his right shoulder, with the follow through clipping his cockpit.

Slowly testing his balance and footing, he began the process or standing his mech up. He must have had some damage to his neurohelmet as he felt unstable and a wave of nausea swept through him. Fighting it with all of his strength, he finally stood the mech up: Face to face with a ragged pink Higlander and three of its friends; an Archer, Thunderbolt and Marauder. Adam stood there in defiance not moving an inch, but feeling too sick to do anything else. The Archer, slowly striding a few meters forward and to the front of the severely wounded Blackjack regarded it for a moment. Then, as if coming to a decision raised its right arm and nudged the mech slightly as if in a friendly acknowledgement between two warriors, of Adam’s presence and spirit. With no arms to return the gesture Adam nodded the torso of his mech slightly to the Archer, practically vomiting in the process with all of the neural feedback rushing to his brain, and in turn to the Highlander who did not seem to notice or care. With that the foursome turned and strode into the smoke, out of his sight. Yet he could still hear the drone of that ancient Terran music as they walked away.

“Well, since my baby left me,
I found a new place to dwell.
It’s down at the end of Lonely Street
at Heartbreak Hotel”

That’s where the Rangers had found him and the remains of his lance; Heartbreak Hotel, in the middle of some field adjacent to a forest. Clarkson got away with just breaking her right leg, mimicking her Thunderbolts lost right leg. Bill Harrison was ok, but all shook-up. Davidson was not so lucky. One of the LRMs that had struck him hit an apparently already damaged cockpit, killing him instantly.

Sitting back on the tarmac as Waco Rangers began to board the dropships to boost off planet, all Adam could remember was the pain Davidson’s wife had when told of his death in the battle, in a senseless battle that did not have to take place, and that only took place because of Col. Wayne Waco’s rage at losing a son to the Dragoon’s 15 years prior. A blood score that the Col., god love him, could not let go of and was slowly driving him insane and crazy. Adam loved the Waco Rangers. He loved his family. Yet he could no longer go down the same insane path the Col. had started down and was unlikely to turn away from. Yes, Adam Baines still deeply hated the Dragoon’s as that is what his father and mother (rest her soul) had drilled into him at a young age, but not at the cost of his family and sanity. He will watch the Dragoons, follow them and when the opportunity arises fight them tooth and nail with all of his soul, but he would not let them rob him of his sanity.

It was time to move on from this family, the one he had known for all of his life and shared every experience with. He could not bear to watch it disintegrate from the inside out. He did not want any part in perpetuating the insanity. There was no changing the Cols. mind. It was time for a change, to search for new employment and hopefully another family and home.

Edited by AdamBaines, 20 March 2015 - 12:02 PM.