Ok I didn't knew where to place this lil situation, I hope this is the right place, and if it isn't, By the powers bestowed upon me by my Holy Warrant of Trade, I will make it so! Stay a while, and listen! Ahem, I mean, read!
It all started during a sunday afternoon at the local burger joint. I was fulfilling the Emperor's Holy Will by enlightening a group to the good graces of Warhammer being their Gm in a one-shot Rogue Trader adventure, more specifically, the one located on the Rogue Trader Core Rulebook, "Into the Maw". Now, while most of the group was completely ignorant of our favorite xeno-mutant-heretic-hell-spawn-infested-dystopian-scenario, I had played with some of them before.
There was: A guy who played a barbarian chaotic-neutral-and-it's-totally-neutral-to-kill-that-innocent-kid-cmon-gm!; another who was actually another gm which the adventure no one was interested in; a guy who Gmed D&*namecensoredbyholyinquisition* on weekends and thought that playing something 'sci fi' would be fun alongside one his players who was the -only- guy in the group to know Warhammer. The last player was literally a totally random dude who was curious about the game but was suddenly pulled into the game by the others.
I had pre-built characters with some paragraphs describing their personal history, and even hunted down some pictures to print on the sheets to give the players an insight of how they looked like, and boyyyy, the prospect wasn't good. At first I thought about each player choosing his own character from the roster of available sheets, but when the barbarian moved his skinny hand towards the sheet of the Rogue Trader Captain character, the Holy and Only Emperor of Humankind bellowed from his golden throne "GM! Do not let thy game be led by the one whose character was a filthy xeno Ork who slaughtered innocent humans for his own pleasure and joy!" and I made his will mine. I picked the captain character and boldly offered this to the only person who knew warhammer. "But I was thinking in being the Techpries-" "THE EMPEROR COMMANDS THEE! Ahem, I mean, please, be the captain." "Then I will be the Techpriest." Said the guy that G'med D&*namecensoredbyholyinquisition* picking the Explorer Sheet and giving it a read. The barbarian guy ended picking up the "Warrior", which I quickly corrected him being an Arch-Militant.
The Gm no one wanted picked up the Void Master... which he thought it was a shadowrun female char because she had tattoos and a cyberarm.
The Clueless guy picked up the Navigator.
I quickly explained the background of the scenario, and explained to each player who was his character, what was his/her role and said that if they'd like, they could add or remove things they wanted. Which of course the barbarian guy used as an excuse to tell that his character was boring just because he was a "Battle-scarred soldier from Krieg who survived on his hate for Orks". But nevertheless, onward, the focus is the Explorer, whose player asked me about what were the techpriests, and I happily explained that they were like an order of franciscan monks that had a grip on technology but deemed any human-made technology, specially artifacts from the golden era, holy and with a soul.
The game started. To the readers who don't remember or know the story of the Adventure, it's basically a treasure-hunt that starts when the captain is hailed by an old servant of the Rogue Trader's Dynasty, claiming to have found where an ancient ship full of loot was sunk. The players travel to a space station on the border of the known space of man which is separated from the uncharted space through a warp-way known as "the maw". After the players pass through the maw, they would fight some space pirates, end on the system where the ship sunk, fight the antagonist who was stalking them, and get the loot.
Simple, right? How many of you Gmed one-shots for a group of strangers?
Nevertheless, the game started, well, fine. All the rogue trader group went through the markets of the space station and the captain did the good sense of asking me if he could spare two redshir- ahem, two extra guards. Things started to get weird when the arch-militant showed up with a friggin heavy stubber in the middle of a civilian-populated-area controlled by the arbites and the captain started to think their contact was actually a mole, even though the contact cried when he saw the symbol of the dynasty his family served loyally for generations.
Now, there was supposed to be an attack from the antagonist's goons against the group of rogue traders, but nothing big, just something that could be used as a tutorial in combat for the players and a distraction so the antagonist's right hand, a psyker, could scan the mcguffin from the contact and learn where was the ship sunk, so, while the rogue trader group was arranged on the front of a large wooden table with lots of merchandise, nine weak goons with autopistols sprung from shanty barracks behind the group and started firing, first to the air to make the crowd run, then against the players. Each round I'd explain again and again which actions they could take and which actions the enemies were doing, and while the captain did the sensible thing of seeking cover, the arch-militant wasted his round grabbing the enormous table and toppling it over, then complaining that toppling a table over took his entire turn. They hobbled together, fired together, then missed horribly and killed lots of innocent bystanders. Then, guess what.
The Navigator opened his third eye.
In the middle of a crowded market shock-full of civilians.
After the five-minute-break I imposed myself, I described the throngs of civilians dying in the most gruesome ways, the enemies were unscathed by the attack, and of course, fired back in formation. They made a firing-arch, two forcing the group to stay in cover, the rest trying to take pot-shots at the group. The captain tried to coordinate the group very well, using his power to make his crew shoot better, and through this down one of their foes. Then, it was the Explorer's turn.
"Ok, did I passed the test to not get pinned down like the others?"
"Yep, you passed."
He stopped, hummed to himself and counted the hexagons on the map. "I can reach this guy. Ok, I stand from cover and walk to him with my axe and my pistol." "Oh... dude, this isn't *redactedbyinquisition*&D, you can die if someone makes a good shot at you or a burst fire." "It's ok... I'm a servant of the Omnissiah, Machines, even if wielded by my foes, won't harm me."
Again, this guy had -Never- played Warhammer, he hadn't even -heard- about the game in any shape or form.
"Ok, will you make a charge?" "No, I will just walk to him."
He walks, and scene-wise stops in the middle of the way, it would be the round of the enemy units and after he was shot, I'd describe that he valiantly walked while if flesh was torn and I'd ask for the player a roll or two that could be translated into intimidation.
The first guy gets out of cover and fires his autogun in a burst! I roll the dice behind the shield.
Ok, the gun jammed, that will be good to explain. Second guy also tries a burst fire.
Ooookay... that's good, a second jam.
Ok, seriously, this is getting ridiculous.
Fourth guy. He pops out of cover, aims his burst fire, plus ten from laser annnnd
"Ok, you... walk in the middle of the firefight, and stand before your foe, he points his autopistol point-blank to your chest... Normally if he was one meter away from you, he'd receive point-blank range bonus, but since face-to-face is considered melee, he wouldn't be able to use an other gun besides one classified as pistol, now I will roll..."
"Here is the deal. You all see the explorer suddenly, but slowly standing from cover, and walking at his own leisure towards the shacks that house the ones shooting against you. At each of his metallic steps, you hear the sounds of bullets being spat by the small muzzles being silenced and then, only 'clicks' and exasperated groans of frustration... The person before you, Explorer, attempts to reward your seemingly foolishness with bullets, but upon feeling the cold muzzle of the autopistol upon your chest, he presses the trigger... and nothing. What do you do?" "I Extend my hand towards him, and say. 'You are not worthy of the mechanical marvel upon your hands. Give up your intent, and hand your weapon to me.'"
"One fate point to you."
Unnecessary to say, all the foes gave up and were arrested by the arbites that arrived, with the arch-militant annoying the captain of the arbites claiming that 'the autopistols were his due him defeating those guys'