ArcherSix

It's funny that you mentioned this, I was looking through the ArmA III in-game field guide two days ago, and I noticed an entry on how to use VTOL craft...

Hey, everyone, I'm trying to make a proper video for my realism unit (it's a contest to create a new recruiting video), but I'm having some trouble. Mainly, I don't know what I'm doing. I have a script together, and I know it should be possible, but I don't know how or where to begin. The biggest issue I'm facing currently is how to get a proper camera set up to record events. I don't want some kind of shaky cam or body shot or anything of that sort. I'm looking for the kind of angles that you see in Dyslexi's Community Guide videos. I've done some research on YouTube, but the videos I found were from the Alpha. When I tried to copy what they did to set up even a basic manual camera (using the 'this exec "camera.sqs" script), things wouldn't go right, and I'd get a pop-up telling me to 'call BIS_fnc_cameraOld' or something like that. I don't know scripting really at all, to explain, so I'm fumbling about in the dark trying to do the best I can. This is why I'm reaching out to you, the ArmA community, for help. I'm not looking to make a full-fledged video, but rather just set up some camera angles, take some shots, and record it using OBS. Can anyone help me?

Really love this guide, thanks for making it!

Do you guys plan on making insurgent factions, such as the Taliban, AQ, etc.? Also, any plans on making a UK faction? I would love to see the L85/86 in A3 at RHS quality.

I don't know if BIS will make this, but this needs to be a scenario. Modders, make us proud.

I'm looking forwards to doing some Navy SEAL/Rainbow 6 style sniping from Little Birds.

Quite frankly, they've been talking a lot in the story about increased tension between the US and CSAT forces in the Pacific. Maybe we can go island hopping? I also want to see what happens next to Kerry.

I want them to fix the skybox. Even when it's storming out in ArmA, during the day it just doesn't look right. You can usually see the sun if the fog is low enough, as well as blue sky beyond the clouds. This needs to be fixed. If I want a humdinger of a storm, I want it to look like a really bad storm.

To counter, I was playing some Co-op with clan mates, and we had hostile AI popping smoke, falling back to better positions, even disengaging in order to wait for reinforcements. I think it's a tad buggy from time to time, but in no way is it as bad as ArmA II.

Yeah, good luck slipping that past BIS, Cage. Though it'd make for a popular mod.

Basic training, get a feel for it all. Then, I'm going to do some Armory stuff (assuming that's intact). Finally, some multiplayer.

Er... Didn't the Ion site itself have fake positions, all of them hinting at character names in the game? Maybe those are viable usernames. You could always try logging in as Reynolds, though the passwords beyond me. Stranger, maybe?

Campaign, naturally. I want to run through the new gameplay mechanics through the new single-player storyline.

To be fair, I'd wait to see how Bohemia makes would be a prudent venture rather than already damning it. Plus, it's always a bit of fun to be the underdog.

Thought I'd try my own hand at writing an ArmA story. A bit of a technical explanation-this is using my idea of how ArmA III's story should take place, involving the final battle before the 2024 Jerusalem Accords taking place at Marathon, which brings up my ties to the "history comes again" theme. Again, none of this is (officially?) canon, but it's my take on the world we're going to be jumping into next year. Marathon Part One-Landing with the Tide "Well, this is a hell of a place to fight a battle." Sergeant Marshall Willis muttered, holding his standard-issue FN-2000 rifle lazily in one hand. The sand before him seemed morose, foreboding. A thousand thousand years ago men had died here in a battle that meant just as much here as it had done then. Their blood still called to the living, to the warriors who were now fighting on Greek soil. 'Join us', they said with a siren's whisper. "What are you talking about?" Corporal Lucas Taylor replied, a tired but confident smirk on his face. Unlike Willis' dark brown hair and equally chestnut eyes, Taylor had blonde hair and emeralds for pupils. Eyes had to be windows to the soul, as they were just as lively as the Corporal's attitude. "Last time some shit went down here, the Persians went home with their tails between their legs." "The Persians didn't have air power, nor did they have cruise missiles." Willis snapped back. "And they were using spears, not next-gen assault weaponry." Taylor lifted a hand in front of his face. "Woah, sorry to piss you off. Happy you're on my side, Sergeant." Taylor sighed and shook his head. "Stress is getting to ya, huh?" "Of course." Willis answered. "We've been told to fight off the largest invasion force since they struck at Gibraltar using what ever's not fighting the Iranian forces to the east, and having only a good day or two to be ready for them." He eyed the half-constructed sand barriers and trenches crossing the sandy shore. "At least they gave us priority air. Otherwise, I'd take my chances fighting with the Greeks." Taylor bobbed his head in semi-agreement. "Hey, nobody said it was going to be an easy enough job." Taylor said softly. "But out of every single Brit, Frenchie, Duetsch, and Spaniard in the world, they picked us to hold the line. You, me, and the rest of the blokes in the division. So, keep the chin up Sarge." He tapped the side of Willis' helmet with a free palm. "We're Two Para, remember?" - The day passed quickly enough, to Willis' surprise. It seemed like someone had pressed the fast-forwards button on the entire day. Morning changed into noon, which promptly changed to night. All the while, Two Para set up shop across the beach, digging more trenches and setting up firing positions to cover the entire landing zone. Or, at least, the assumed landing zone. The source for the invasion plans seemed to have been trustworthy enough to waste the time of an entire division of men, as well as a good squadron of American-made, NATO operated F/A-35B's. If it had been some clever ruse, then it had been a damned good one, on par with Overlord's pre-emptive manuevers. Willis was sitting in his foxhole when his radio beeped. "Possible RADAR contact close to the beaches, all men to their positions!" Willis snatched his '2000 from where he had left it and readied himself against the barrier, checking the sights one more time before they fell into the breach. But as the minutes passed, the contact did not move. It, in fact, seemed oblivious to the heavy British position on the shore. Willis eyed the night horizon, hoping to maybe catch a glimpse of the mysterious invader. Thoughts rippled through the Sergeant's mind. A spy ship? Special forces transport? The possibilities rattled about through his mind, each one bringing up a new theory, a new threat. The whine of a hand-held UAV being launched passed through the crisp Aegean air. It took only a minute for the reply to come back. "All call-signs, stand down-contact is civilian fishing vessel. A PT boat has been sent to fetch it out of harm's way." Command hailed, going by the moniker of "King". Willis gave a sigh of relief, and slowly lowered his weapon. "Well, that was pretty fuckin' terrifying." Willis said with a chuckle to the rest of the men in the foxhole. They nervously laughed with him, every one of them honestly wanting to release the tension, and every one of them slowly failing. That one time had been a fluke. They all knew that you couldn't get lucky twice. - The PT boat skimmed towards the fishing trawler at a good pace, about fifty knots not to raise too many alarms. After all, the Iranian invasion fleet had yet to be spotted. The 'Leftenant' aboard went by the nick-name of 'Caine'. It had meant to be ominous, just to scare any Iranian shit-less who ever came across either comm traffic about him, or worse, his boat himself. Not like he expected any of the OPFOR in this case to have actually read the book or seen the movie, but it was still just in-case he came across one of the more literate ones. The American's made a hell of a spin-off of the thing, he mused aimlessly. Too bad they aren't here themselves. I could have used the help. The trawler began to come into view, and Caine called out for the ship to slow. He pressed a button to use the ship's speakers, and pulled up beside the boat. "<Attention, civilian ship.>" Caine said slowly into the mike, looking through the already-written down instructions and translations. "<You have entered a war-zone. For your safety, we are here to lead you back to port.>" He paused, waiting for some reply, but the trawler seemed to be ignoring him. "<If you do not comply, you will be treated as a hostile vessel and seized.>" Again, no response. He gave a glare at the vessel, and then pointed to one of the ensigns behind the PT boat's heavier ordinance, an American-made Mk. 19 grenade-launcher. "Put a round across the ship, just to get their attention." He looked at the three Royal Marines behind him. "Get suited up, and be ready to head over." They nodded in reply, and began picking up some odd rifle. Caine had little time to care for the weaponry of his contingent of Marines-his life was with the boat. The Mk. 19 gave a soft thunk, and a violent splash came from across the trawler's port. To the commander of the other ship's credit, he did the "abandoned" act fairly well. All the lights had been off when Caine had arrived, and they remained off-only the soft patter of the ship's engine came from the vessel. "Alright, sort 'em all out." Caine barked. The Marines moved towards the bow of the PT boat and waited until the trawler pulled closer. Then, they jumped. They landed as quietly as they could, but the ship rocked as they hopped on, alerting any possible defenders that they had been boarded. The ship itself was not huge, so they couldn't hide many people aboard. There was a cabin, a crane for carrying in nets, and presumably a lower level for other members of the crew. Caine leaned off the instrument panel and waited for something to happen. He didn't even know what came next. The blinding light of an explosion came well before the sound and fury, so Caine's mind had hardly any time to realize it was already dead. The bomb was conventional, of course, but it really didn't matter at this range. The trawler blew apart like tinsel paper as the metric tonne of explosives in its hold went off all at once. The immediate effect of the explosion was the disintegration of its steel confines (which had only absorbed about a tenth of the blast), followed by the sheer brute force tearing the PT boat to pieces, as well as its human inhabitants. There had never been anyone aboard the trawler. - The bright flicking from the distance was the surest sign of trouble Willis had ever seen. "Holy shit!" He whispered, his mind already formulating what had happened even though it was a crude guess on a single spot-light. His suspicions had been immediately confirmed when the first shell hit. The roar of the sand being torn to pieces immediately followed by a plume of dust and ashes split the night silence. Willis threw himself down as the debris came back down again, only to be lifted into the air once more as another shell landed. The radio tried to tell him something, but Willis couldn't hear a damn thing over the massive explosions. The Iranian fleet had finally arrived, and was perfectly content with obliterating the beach well ahead of landing anything. It would be only a matter of time before their air support arrived, followed swiftly by their infantry. "It is on people, get yourselves ready!" Willis managed to shout over the din. Over the line, the men of Two Para readied their rifles and waited for the Iranians to arrive. Taylor, only a few meters away shot a look at the Sergeant through the narrow trench. "Good luck" he mouthed, before turning back to face the front. The conflict had finally begun. - The instant that the PT boat had gone offline, the call had gone out to the fighter squadron a few miles inland. Only seven minutes later did the first of Eagle squadron take to the air. Captain Harry Baker, "Eagle Six", took the F-35 up to an immediate rapid climb soon after taking off, pushing the fighter's afterburners all the way up to beat gravity and the clock. The men on the ground were desperately asking for help, fighting a battle that they had not been specialized for. If the Paratroopers were to survive, they needed air cover. "Eagle Six is up." Harry announced over comms. "Headed to first waypoint." "Copy that, Six." One replied, a Colonel Michael Striker. "Get yourself there and wait for everyone else, out." The sky was now his, and the drone of the F-35's engine matched the howl of the wind outside to a T. But none of that seemed to get through the cockpit, nor through the helmet Harry had adorned. He was in his element, he was in his sky. Nothing mattered anymore other than him, his job, and his squadron-mates. The F-35 was a brilliant piece of work, capable of some-odd mach. Faster than anything the Iranians had still, and hopefully would stay that way for a long time. The flight over to the first waypoint was short, but he still had time to eye the beaches below. Harry couldn't hear the explosions, but he could see them through his Night Vision scope. "I'll be damned." He muttered. "The sooner we can get ready, the sooner we can stop all of that." The bleep of his RADAR gave him something else to think about. Fuck! He realized with a start-the Iranians were sure to have deployed fast-air to cover the beaches themselves. "Eagle Six to Eagle One, hostiles ahead, I'm engaging." He didn't wait for a reply as he armed his AMRAAM missiles. The first target was a Sukoi Su-35 "Flanker", sure to give conniptions to anyone who let them be. He lined up the shot, and pressed the firing fob. Below him, the missile shot off with a roar as it speed away from the fighter and towards its destination. The Iranian pilot had only a second's warning, but at this head-on course he had no time to react, nor would he be able to use flares. The explosion was violent and over in a flash, but the fighter registered the kill all the same. Harry pulled the fighter into a turn as the rest of his squadron-members arrived. On the radar screen more and more contacts appeared, all of them heading straight for Eagle Squadron. It was going to be a lively evening after all... I know I'm stopping Part One half-way, but I'm out of time here. So, continue the next section Part One-A. Review, please.