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post #21 of 137 (permalink) Old 05-18-12, 11:18 AM
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Kain turned away and moved to the front of the gunship as its assault cannon barked into life, obviously spraying and supressing the area where they would be dropped off. Kain waited patiently, the rest of the squad were silent, whatever they thought about the matter would stay quiet. Kain waited until the assault craft was ready before nodding at Raxan to open the ramp.

He stepped down quickly, bolter held in his hands, chainsword at his side as he moved towards the sounds of gunfire and battle, stopping only for the rest of the squad. It appeared that they were fighting Tau and human scavengers, damn xenos once again invaded their realm. They would be purged.

Kain watched as Solakia fired a beam from his lascannon at a group of tau and humans fighting some friendly forces up ahead. Kain could see clearly the reason he was down here in the first place, Cleomenes. Immediately the squad surged forward, most of his brothers firing their bolters before leaping in chainswords blazing as they took their frustration out on the tau and humans in front of them.

Kain stayed back, bolter ready spotting a group of three Tau and two humans trying to hit their flank. He fired controlled shots, blowing the limbs off of two of the Tau and claiming a headshot before the remaining two got into cover. He primed a frag and tossed it behind their cover, watching them scramble before they were blown apart by the grenade.

He moved closer to the Rogue traders group now, Raxan going over to Cleomenes. Kain was glad he had the veteran with him, it may make it easier for Cleomenes to accept what happened if he heard it from someone he had once known. For now he was content with staying silent, picking off any that he could. "Brothers our objective is brother Cleomenes. Do not stray too far ahead!" He warned down the vox as he fired a burst into three humans tearing them to shreds. His blood boiled, and this was a slaughter.

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post #22 of 137 (permalink) Old 05-18-12, 09:59 PM
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Kain bit back, barely controlled anger like a clap of thunder beneath the sermon of false words and poorly ascertained assumptions. Ignorant, he thought Izrael sought glory upon the husk below them.

How wrong he was, how little he knew, he longed for atonement, for completion, to remove the weight of failure from his shoulders allowing him to stand straight head held high, the honors he had earned no longer tainted by that original failure.

It was haunting, the ghost of a long dead veteran, of an oath that dwelt in the darkest depths his nightmares, consumed his emotions and left him shivering and empty amongst bitterness and hate. Kain moved closer, spite resounding in his words, an attempt to conquer his own failures by snapping at Izrael's

"If one of them had lived and we did not have need for more marines do you truly think you would have been raised?"

Izrael was laughing, the slightest chuckle oozing quietly from his helmets vox speakers, cast upon the wind for Kain's ears only. The chaplains had not been able to keep him in line because his will had been stronger, his purpose, a consuming need to find an honourable death, to end the misery of his shameful existence.

Words trickled from his lips unbidden a low his, drowned by the roar of the thunderhawks engines, a lilting quip sliding from his tongue even as the sergeant moved away

"Oh brother sergeant, you cannot hate me more than I hate myself, just as I can't doubt you more than you doubt yourself."

He spoke of the need for a chaplain in these troubled times, yet even as he spoke of fealty to their lord, he cast doubt upon him and Izrael gave a chuckle again, his words a low hiss once again for Kain's ears only

"So you do not believe lord sotha can impose discipline upon 3 pups. Interesting."

The matter was closed yet he baited Izrael with a talk of a spar with the poodle. All things considered he agreed with the sergeant, he would probably loose. He lost over 3 centuries on the elder. He studied the elders physique, his posture, searching for weakness in his stocky frame, no doubt his wounds had healed, though who knew what rust crept upon the hard bars of his muscle since his injury, who knew what was possible in these troubled times.

Either way he would rattle the cage of his psychi, do his best to stretch the elder's limits, it would be good to see what he could do against a veteran. His eyes bored into Raxan's yet the elder's thoughts seemed troubled by other matters, dismissive of his biting words, calm and unfettered, the product of centuries.

So long he had been chastised for his wildness, to see the flames of his rage against the cold steel of discipline would be a damning indictment to his skill, perhaps a lesson in discipline the chaplains had never taught.

"If he would fight me, I will step into the cage with your poodle yet to go into battle expecting defeat is to surrender not fight."
__________________________________________________ __

They stood upon a husk, an empty shell of a world, scattered fragments of their homeworld lay around him, the pilferings of rogues and scoundrels. Hatred bit deep , anger rising from him fanning the flames of his loathing, he was incandescent, his body unable to move, stalled by purest rage as he looked out over the grave yard of his chapter, scattered remains of smaller figures floated before them even as he stepped off the ramp.

He felt his foot touch Sotha's soil, and he gasped as a feeling, foreign, frightening, a sudden sensation of tranquility, of peace, of being at one with the ground that he trod upon even as his eyes baulked in revulsion.

Prayers slid from his lips, his helms voxed switched to mute with a flick of his eye, encase in silence his mind invoxed by the words he hissed to the world, battle litanies invocations of the god emperor filling him with righteous fury, stirring him and he moved forwards amongst the others instilled with the emperor's noble wrath.

He watched but did not hear even as Brother Vermaas tore the head from a pirate to reveal the cobalt blue skin of an Xenos and Izrael felt nauseous sickened by the sight, humans, their souls cast in darkness consorting with the alien to pillage the wreckage of their world.

A blast flashed over head, the acrid taste of the air told him that it was too much for the dreadnaught, the righteous rage of Brother Solaki splitting a bunch of the traitors, blood spatters suddenly suspended in the air as their bodies were vapourised by the fierce blast.

It was the trigger the release of all their emotions, each brother wading forth into those whose presence defiled the grave of their brothers, of their home, of their honor.

His bolt pistol was in his hand, chainsword sliding into his right even as the mass of grave robbers turned to meet them, several sliding into cover with graceful bounds and unnatural twists. Once was a fraction too late and Izrael placed a bolt round through his throat, the impact triggering sending the body pinwheeling leaving a crystalline spray of viscaera hanging menacingly in mid air.

He was moving forward even as a scatter of small arms fire flashed around them, lasguns and various other energy weapons, slicing through the air, leaving shimmering ozone around him, sending a celestial glimmer across his cratered shoulder guard. A tall wiry figure slipped from cover before him, seeming to freeze as he saw the towering behemoth pushing towards him, the hesitation allowing Izrael to put a second round into his chest. He pushed on through the droplets of crimson ichor, leaving smeared blood across the aquilla on his chest even as a smaller figure broke from cover before him leaping high drifting up, the bolt round, sailing under the graceful arc of his body.

A deft twist and his second round passed between arm and shoulder even as a strange carbine swinging round to come to bear upon him. He was sprinting now, great long strides, a blast of energy caught him in the chest yet he was still moving a thumb, thudding on the activation rune sending the wirring blade into life as he removed the floating figures head with a sweep of the blade, a second figure broke from cover, rushing towards him gun held high in blind panic. The blade sung again the spatter of blood a relief to the pent up energy.

Release of emotions, the bliss of blind rage fading away to leave the great shape of the fortress monestry before him. Within its hallowed depths lay the last chance at redemption or condemnation that his failure would be with him forever.

He paused, the weight of his decision brought to sudden head, the reason he had come here and the sheer mass of possibilites it brought. Total failure or the first step on the road to redemption stood upon what he found within those crumbling walls.

"Brothers our objective is brother Cleomenes. Do not stray too far ahead!"

Even as he began to stride towards the fortress monestry he paused, yet another reason for the veterans to think him little more than an impetuous fool.

Fuck it, he found the sheet of paper still pinned to his shoulder guard and ran his fingers over the surface before striding onwards, he had his orders.

kudos to lillian thorne for the awesome sig

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post #23 of 137 (permalink) Old 05-21-12, 09:52 AM Thread Starter
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We will be pretending that Niko was never sent down with the rest of you. He will be re-entered into the RP in this update. I really pushed the deadline this time and some people still didn't/couldnt post so I probably wont next time. I should have said this before sending a PM to some of you, but just so everyone knows all of you have three 'skips' basically. So if someone doesnt post for three updates I remove the character. This rule is not concrete, but is the general guideline I am going by. So with that said, you all have two weeks to post for this update.


Raxan, Cleomenes, Zeiran, Kain, Solaki, Raziel, Spurius, Hexor:

Raxan breaks the somewhat awkward silence of the group after reaching cleomenes' position, as he is most familiar with the long gone marine.

"Cleomenes, brother, it is Raxan. Welcome home my friend. There is much to tell you, but first to business."

Kain, you may notice that two of your squad do not share their names like the rest of you, those being Vermaas, and Izrael.

Cleomenes, what is your reaction to these marines? Particularly now that Raxan has confirmed himself. Whether he tells you or you see it upon his armor, you learn that the one, brother Kain, is the sergeant of the group. Cleomenes, even if you find you have questions that cannot wait, Raxan is proven to be correct in saying business first.

It becomes clear the scavengers had more than just the one sentinel that Cleomenes and his small group of elite killers managed to bring down earlier.

Perhaps the scavengers hoped to not have to risk their more expensive technology in this engagement, keeping them hidden until now. From behind one of the small hills several of the enemy are using for cover, rises two bobbing mechanical heads. Between the training and experience all of you have, you instantly recognize them as sentinels and take cover yourselves, well, at least until you see what weapons they bear.

The first has a multi-melta...not something to mess around with. The second has the more standard multi-laser equipped.

All of you also expect for Solaki's las-cannon to instantly blow one of them away, but turn to find him already engaged in close combat with another power lifter pattern sentinel like Cleomenes saw before.

Pretty much all of the infantry that were nearby have been killed off, and those that weren't remain hidden, content waiting to see if the sentinels can kill you first. both sentinels have an enclosed chasis, concealing the pilots within dark shields of bullet proof glass. A few bolter rounds would surely make their way through, but getting hit badly by a multi-laser or melta weapon would surely make their way through you as well.

The multi-melta sentinel is slightly in front of the other one, trying to get in close while the multi-laser sentinel opens fire, trying to keep you all in cover more than anything else so the other can safely get in range. Such predictable tactics...

How do the seven of you plan to take on these two sentinels? Does your character try to coordinate with the rest of the group before taking action or do they decide to act on their own accord? Multiple posts may be needed or private message each other. Hell, a few signals from each other might be all that's needed, especially considering all the things the remaining Scythes of the Emperor have been through together, well except for Cleomenes of course. Speaking of which, Cleomenes' rogue trader allies let him know that they will leave the sentinels to him and his brothers, while they seek out the remaining scavengers who believe themselves safe in hiding. They will return soon enough.

Solaki: following the end of your post, you see your brothers making easy work of the enemy as expected. You soon hear your booming voice in your mind, though you speak through vox to answer Cleomenes demand, giving him your name. Shortly after, warning signs fill your vision. You feel something that Laikus made certain you had felt before. Pain through the dreadnought body, real but not real. Before a suitable reaction can be made you find a sentinel equipped with power-lifters using them as claws to hold onto the long barrel of your las-cannon, disabling you from turning to use it upon the new foe. Due to this, you are forced to see the two sentinels armed with a multi-laser and multi-melta march over the opposite hill toward your brothers who begin taking cover.

If you dont get this sentinel's power lifters off of your las-canno soon, they will crush the barrels. I will allow you to shoot it, but this will cause your las-cannon to be destroyed seconds later. If you decide to do this, specify which sentinel you fire at. Either way, you will have to find a way to destroy this power-lifter sentinel without your las-cannon. If you dont fire it, this means you give yourself enough time to find a way to avoid losing your arm. Describe your actions to do so, but I will determine the fate of the sentinels.


Izrael and Vermaas:

Izrael, you continue slaying your way closer to the fortress monastery walls, a single focused intention in mind.

Vermaas, by coincidence you ended up closest to Izrael during the fighting and by instinct you made sure he stayed within sight. But you soon find yourself outside of squad coherency with any of the others and realize Izrael is moving in the direction he is for a reason, though the reason is unknown to you.

As you stand still for a moment to watch Izrael, a ray of sunlight sudenly makes its way over the towering monastery walls. The bright light is caught, magnified, and reflected by the massive amount of ethcings in your armor. You seem to glow as half of every letter upon your armor appears white hot, though the red eyes of your helm continue to match the frozen state of the blood floating about your form.

You find yourself ignoring the fleeing survivors as you move to catch up with Izrael.

Blackguard: Vermaas catches up with Izrael, and will ask what Izrael is doing. How he gets his attention and how he asks is of course up to you. Once he responds, if he does at all, does Vermaas contact kain and say something? He doesnt have to, whatever you think his reaction would be. This means you will have to post before deathbringer, and again afterwards. I imagine these posts will be rather shirt though.

Deathbinger: Blackguard is to post first. Vermaas will catch Izrael and inquire about his intentions. Your post will be his reaction.

if you guys end up needing multiple posts due to conversation that is fine.


Niko: Start back at the first update. Everything will still apply to you except the following: Lord Sotha will not include your name with those chosen to go to the surface. This will likely seem odd to you, as you have been sent out with this group pretty much every time the Scythes have left the ship after leaving Ferim. Like many, Ryan and Zurick stay on the bridge to keep looking at their dead homeworld. Ryan and Zurick are often sent out on planetary missions as well.

Sotha leaves, likely to his personal chamber which also has a viewport. Naturally, as has been since Ferim, Alexander follows him.

Choose to go to Ryan and Zurick, or choose to follow your Lord and Alexander. You will speak first, but any replies they make will be in my next update, I imagine. This way you can get your post up without us having to come up with a lot of dialogue first.

You can never be prepared for the unexpected


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post #24 of 137 (permalink) Old 05-28-12, 09:03 PM
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On his knees, enshrouded in a glittering curtain of sand, crystal and dirt, Cleomenes cut a pitiful figure - Hands pressed into the cold ground, armour-shod fingers carving deep furrows in the earth. His gaze was downcast, through the spiralling patterns; mismatched eyes peering on resolutely. In an instant, he could draw both Boltpistol and Chainsword - Butcher the Astartes nearest him, perhaps one or two more, before he was brought down.

Aye, these Marines wore the garb of the Scythes of the Emperor - But something about their postures was wrong, the way their shoulders sagged and their heads tilted. They stood like revenants, like men who knew that they had already been defeated. They reminded him of an injured wolf - Backed into their corner, snarling, desperate. Cleomenes’ lips peeled back in a silent sob.

‘Cleomenes, brother, it is Raxan. Welcome home my friend,’ That stung, the confirmation that this world, shattered so ruthlessly, was indeed Sotha. ‘There is much to tell, but first to business.’

Raxan extended his arm, and Cleomenes took it respectfully, allowing the other Marine to haul him onto his feet, so that they stood chest-to-chest. Cleomenes held his brother’s grip, fingers wrapped firmly around Raxan’s wrist. Cleomenes leaned in close, his plume rocking steadily.

‘Still a pretty-boy, Raxan?’ The smile was audible, even across the general vox channel. ‘It has been too long,’ He relented the grip and stepped back, a smile still splitting his steel-grey beard. ‘Your armour is newer - And still as naked as a babe.’ He chuckled, slapping his own chest, indicating the golden lions. ‘You don’t command here, however.’

He eyed the Squad of Astartes with distaste. Their armour was ramshackle, each suit augmented with sections of other plate - Gouged, scoured and pitted - Their weapons were somewhat better maintained, though none as meticulously as Cleomenes’ own. He prided himself on detail; every nook and cranny polished to a mirror-sheen.

‘I shall take my leave,’ Tybarr Nymeros said politely, bowing deeply to Cleomenes. ‘I’ll clear the area. Family reunions bore me - I’m sure that we will be more helpful out of your way, eh?’

‘Yes.’ Cleomenes said simply, and then, after a moment - ‘Thank you, Tybarr. I am indebted to you.’

The rogue trader’s haughty chuckle filled Cleomenes’ helm. ‘Nay, Space Marine. You have done enough for me. Let this be the last of our favours, now. Else I’ll never rid myself of your oversized arse.’

This time, Cleomenes laughed. The rogue trader and his satraps, wonderful in their void-suits, moved off in silence. It pained him to admit it, but Cleomenes would miss them heartily when this was over. Even Mardonius, for all his faults and narcissism, was a friend.

‘Who commands here?’ Cleomenes asked his newfound brethren, circling, before his eyes set upon a Scythe with the trappings of a Sergeant, the dimmest glimmer of arrogance showing in his posture. An oath dangled on his shoulder, a purity seal embossed upon his knee. Cleomenes jabbed an accusing finger at him, lips peeling back. ‘You, boy, what is your name?’

Nyctophobia- Fear of the Dark Angel.

"No one ever spoke about of those two absent brothers. Their separate tragedies had seemed like aberrations. Had they, in fact, been warnings that no one had heeded?"

'Killing a man is like fucking, boy, only instead of giving life you take it. You experience the ecstasy of penetration as your warhead enters the enemy's belly and the shaft follows. You see the whites of his eyes roll inside the sockets of his helmet. You feel his knees give way beneath him and the weight of his faltering flesh draw down the point of your spear. Are you picturing this?'
'Yes, lord.'
'Is your dick hard yet?'
'No, lord.'
''What? You've got your spear in a man's guts and your dog isn't stiff? What are you, a woman?'
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post #25 of 137 (permalink) Old 05-29-12, 12:34 AM
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Solaki turn around as the last blow was struck on the last visible invader. Solaki would be smiling if his muscles still responded as they would have in the flesh. Cleomenes spoke through the vox and it resounded like a bell in his head. "Brother, I am Solaki. I must warn you though, do not expect to see any more of my kind. I am the first in the restoration of our glorious chapter, but not the last." Suddenly, and spark of pain screamed up the cables into his mind. Laikus had prepared him for this. The dreadnought's MIU simulation of pain was indeed a strange one. It was like iron scraping against iron. It made a physically painful and uncomfortable sound, but it wasn't natural. It was artificial, like everything in this body. Cold, metal and artificial. Solaki's internal systems showed his eyes what was causing him such pain. A sentinal with power lifter was trying to crush his left arm, his bless'd lascannon. He noticed in the distance that two more had appeared and were about to assault his squad mates. His targeting system showed him that he could hit one if he fired immanently, but surely then the one on his left would shatter his lascannon. At the very least, it would be damaged to such and extent that only Laikus could repair it, and even then that would be back on the Heart.

But, if he fought for his arm, then he left his brothers open to attack. They had spent so long travelling to reclaim Cleomenes, what if he died here? Or Kain? The chapter would be wounded sorely by the loss of any of his brothers, but Solaki would be personally wounded by the loss of Kain. Solaki's mind could not help but recall a situation where he had been on the other side. Belial had save his arm in a fight with the xeno's warriors on Ferim, and Solaki had scalded him for it. He had shouted at him and called him a coward, and now he was faced with the same choice. But it wasn't the same. Solaki was the only one of his kind left, as he had just said. Any loss, even the loss of parts that Laikus could not repair, would be grievous blow. The chapter's remaining symbol of hope, smashed by mere grave-robbers. Moral would plummet to near suicidal, and those who already questioned his interment in this mighty relic would be even more skeptical and call for his removal. He had been given a chance to redeem himself and help to rebuild his chapter. With such a gift came a great responsibility. Besides, even his Solaki hit and killed one of the approaching sentinels, then the other might as well damage the group. He would be disarmed and would have gained nothing for it. His squad mates would need to handle themselves for now. As much a Solaki loathed himself for choosing his own welfare over his brother's, he had no other choice. The must understand.

All of this took about a second for Solaki to process in his mind, and already the pain had grown sharper. Nothing could truly hurt him, he would feel nothing if his arm was torn clean off, but it served as a warning mechanism that he did not have much time left. His choice had been made, for good or ill, and it was time to act. The sentinel was straddled over the barrier which Solaki had just destroyed and Solaki could sense the pilot's empty pride. He thought he could bring down a mighty dreadnought with this flimsy machine. Solaki scoffed at the thought. Solaki's main torso swiveled with enough force for the sentinel to jerk forward but not break the lascannon. The screaming electro-fiber bundles and servos which caused the arm to stay intact sent more pain flaring up Solaki's spine, but Laikus had prepared him for far worse pain than this in his simulations. The servos and gyro-stabalisers of the sentinel flailed and others broke, spraying quickly freezing hydrolic fluid in the void of space. The sentinel's footing was loose and the human or xenos driver responded far to slowly to compensate. That was a massive advantage Solaki had. His new behemoth form moved like a second skin, responded on a whim or an impulse. This sentinel was reliant on the reaction and action speed of it's pilot and whether he or she could pull the levers fast enough to compensate. Evidently, they could not.

Solaki paused a moment and then reversed his movement and shunted to his left. He had not paused out of inability to move, but because it had allowed the pilot just enough time to compensate for his sudden movement right, which meant that the second movement had twice the destabilizing effect on the metal sentinel. The legs gave out and parted with the ground as the pilot frantically tried to stop the movement of the foe which they had chosen to fight. A fight which they had picked poorly and were destined to lose. Solaki kept his legs moving at a speed as close to a run as a dreadnought could get until they both slammed into the pillar several meters behind them. The momentum smashed the pillar to dust and broke large sections of the sentinels back, damaging sections of the power-plant. Most importantly, it caused the metal joining the power-lifters still gripping his lascannon, but no longer applying further pressure since the pilot had be occupied trying not to be killed by the vengeful dreadnought, to buckle and several of the more delicate coils to snap or be cut by torn metal. The sentinel still twitched with a semblance of power left in it, but it's power lifters clearly no longer worked as the pain was getting no worse, indicating no further pressure being applied, and the pilot must realise by now that he was already dead. Another swift swivel cause the pistons of the power-lifters to pull out of their cylinders and the already broken metal and frail wires to tear apart fully. Free from the dead weight of the sentinel, Solaki strafed immediately to avoid being hit by one of the other sentinels, being sure to crush the cockpit of the broken sentinel under-foot as he did so. He only hoped that his act of self preservation had not cost him and brothers, and that he could bring swift vengeance to these other grave-robbers, now that his lascannon was free from harm...
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post #26 of 137 (permalink) Old 05-29-12, 07:27 PM
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Cleomenes took his hand and Raxan helped him to his feet. Cleomenes held Raxan's arm in a grip of pure iron. It was as if his friend was afraid that he was some sort of etheral spirit. One long dead along with their homeworld. The tension passed quickly and Cleomenes leaned in close.

"Still a pretty-boy, Raxan?" His eldest frined chided, the humor and relief at a familiar face amongst the horrific grave of Sotha evident in Cleomenes voice. Raxan smiled, the first true smile he had had since the fall of his home. To have his brother back, was a joy beyond anything that he could have hoped for. Cleomenes stepped back from him, taking in Raxan's appearance, the lenses of his plumed helm flicking across the surface of his armor. "Your armor is newer- And still naked as a babe." Cleomenes chuckled, slapping the golden lions that adorned the front of his breastplate. Raxan could only shake his head and smile. Cleo was as incorrigble as ever though his attitude changed as he took in the squad that approached, "You don't command here, however." Raxan confirmed the statement with a shake of his head, "Never had any inclination for command and you know that old friend."

Raxan watched on as Cleomenes bid his compatriots from the Rogue Trader's vessel good bye. It was nice to see Cleomenes laugh, to see one of the Scythes, no matter his absence, free from the bruden that their fallen homeworld forced upon the rest of them. Soon the reality would truely grip his friend. But for now it was new, fresh, unbelieveable, as it had been for Raxan as he awoke in the apothecarion.

Turing back to Raxan and the rest of the squad that had since caught up with them, Cleomenes asked, "Who commands here?" Before Raxan could answer Cleo spun, taking in the group before he found Kain. Jabbing a finger in the young sergeants direction, Cleomenes barked, "you, boy, what is your name?" Raxan put a steading hand on Cleo's shoulder and pointing off into the distance where he saw several Sentinel's bobbing, sprinting as fast as their robotic legs could carry them. "Later brother," he said, "there are things that need tending." To punctuate his statment he raised his bolter and fired several rounds at the approaching enemy.

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post #27 of 137 (permalink) Old 05-31-12, 01:44 AM
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His chainsword came down in a vicious arc slaying the nearby suited form of a xenos or filthy tratior, he did not care to know which. His rage was unbound at this point as he pointed his bolter in his other hand and fired it on single-shot settings to maximize damage and minimize ammunition expended. The bolt pulped the body and the blood flowed from it as if a tiny star had exploded within the now-corpse. He glanced over his shoulder and caught the sight of Izrael again. He'd kept his eye on the youth throughout the fight only doing so because he was closest to him. He had spoken with Izrael only a handful of times but the young Astartes reputation had preceeded him. He was reckless to say the least and constantly one step away of outright disobeidience. It was something that did not set well with Vermaas but he was in no position to lecture the youth given his own state of mind.

He swung his head around once more as he killed another of the spineless graverobbers. The situtation around him had changed, his instinctive reaction to stay close to Izrael had led them further away from the main body of the squad than he'd realized. The battlefield situtation had changed, the graverobbers were beginning to flee with haste from his immense size, he looked over to Izrael again and was dumbfounded to see the youth moving away yet again. He had heard Sergeant Kain's order no doubt? He ignored the remainder of the fleeing scum, their deaths were assured one way or another. He glared at the back of Brother Izrael as he moved in the direction of the ruins of the Fortress Monastery.

At that moment a ray of sunlight came up over the ruins and bathed him in pure golden light, the writings upon his armor blazed as if given new life by the very divinity of the God-Emperor. He felt his pride swell, his courage bolster, and his mind sharpen. He knew in that moment that the God-Emperor would see the chapter through one way or another. Weather the path they walked led to extinction or glory it would be a path well walked by the chapter and one he would eagerly see to the end -- no matter the conclusion. As he watched Brother Izrael move off into the distance even more he knew he could not let it stand.

He felt conflict brew within his chest -- surely Izrael was not so lax in his duties to his chapter that he would seek ancient chapter relics over the orders of his superiors. Vermaas' hearts burned with conviction as that possibility was allowed to float within his mind. The Scythes were already on the very verge of extinction, each death from here on out would be felt harshly by the chapter. Every brother who died was the loss of a major resource, the chapter could not afford ventures for personal gain.

He qued his vox to Sergeant Kain, 'Sergeant Kain, Brother Vermaas sir. Brother Izrael is moving in the direction of the ruins of our Monastery. I believe he may be having vox malfunctions. Possibly a lucky pulse round from these filthy graverobbers. I am moving to intercept. Will contact you once I have retrieved him.'

He didn't wait for his commanding officer's reply, knowing that the only course of action they could take was to retireve the lax youth. He began to move with all the haste his gene-forged body could muster and thanks to his centuries of training and warfare he was still able to move his gene-enchanced body fast enough to catch up with Brother Izrael. He knew in but a handful of more centuries his fellow brother would be able to well outpace him. For now though, he would do not such thing. He opened up an direct link to his brother. He knew the vox malfunction story was weak at best, the sergeant may even see through it but it was better than just condemning his brother to censure over this. He would be brought back to the squad, of that he had no doubt, but perhaps a moment of enlightenment and a bonding could occur.

'Brother Izrael, you must stop this folly,' he spoke over the direct link, 'Halt in the name of the Chapter and explain your actions. I know you heard the commands of our sergeant.'


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The chaos gods abandoned Horus most likely because they saw the can of whoop ass coming their way and wanted out of the way so as not to get fucked up!
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post #28 of 137 (permalink) Old 06-01-12, 09:49 PM
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He walked not ran for this was more than a mission, this was a pilgrimage, the final stage of his journey, the last leg of the relay. He would know if he was doomed to walk the earth an oathbreaker, or to be born anew fufilled and renewed, to be resurrected from the restless undead. Too apt it would happen in a grave yard, too apt to be reborn from the ashes of where he had died.

Feet thundered behind him yet still he moved on ignoring the pounding of guilt, the gnawing anguish that this blatant disobedience caused him. Was he to condemn himself to eternal shame, the moment he found new life, too bad he had already condemned his soul the moment he had boarded the thunderhawk, this was just shades of grey.

He continued his wondering picking up the pace ever so slightly, his walk shuffling and his head bowed like a pilgrim.

'Brother Izrael, you must stop this folly,'

Anger flooded him, a low sneer forming on his lips as the voice of the pious Brother Vermaas, his voice regal in its command. Folly how dare he call this folly

'Halt in the name of the Chapter and explain your actions. I know you heard the commands of our sergeant.'

The anger swelled in his gut, rising and bubbling in a mass of bilious hateful words, yet it died as it reached his throat. He was doing naught but his duty, his duty as a loyal brother trying to bring an errant child back to the fold.

He was still walking, eyes fixed upon the monastery before him, the fire drained from him even as he moved further.

"We are the same you and I Brother Vermaas, upon this world we were torn asunder, defiled and sullied by xenos scum. Yet you sought the emperor's purity and I sought the purity of oblivion."

He gave small laugh

"True, yours is a better way to go, far more respected, gains you names like dependable, honorable and mine wild, irresponsible, but who can understand what happens when our minds are plunged into madness.""

He turned to brother Vermaas, walking backwards over the rubble, emotion was pounding in his breath, every step taking him nearer to salvation or condemnation, a pinnacle of his existance. He would not be denied, not now, not so close

"I swore an oath of moment to Veteran Brother Alark Krin that day."

His hands touched the battered parchment tracing the words that were etched across his very soul

"I swore an oath that we would do all that was in our power reclaim the Banner of Justice from its keep. I failed, I was not strong enough, I was forced back by the oncoming mass as Scout Master Curak and Brother Krin held fast and were cut down. Had I been stronger, had I been more skilled I could have saved them. Instead I watched impotently as the banner of justice fell beneath a wave of tyranids and I vowed to die trying to retrieve it. Yet death was denied me, was torn away from me, when others were allowed to meet their end upon the world's surface, I was denied my greatest sacrifice to her memory."

His face was grim even as he gazed upon Brother Vermaas with willful intensity, words he had never spoken to anyone, be the friend foe or chaplain were bubbling from his soul like a hot spring. His proximity, so close it was suffocating him, he was drowning in possibilities as the words continued to gush from between his lips

"The oath consumed me for while i still breathed it was unfufilled, only in death could my duty end. I was condemned to be an oathbreaker before I even bore power armor."

He gesticulated wildly turning away to face the monastery once more

"How could any man of honor stand such shame?"

The sun was burning upon his armour, like flames of redemption they bathed him in their light. A single tear ran like a raindrop down his cheek.

"Now I stand upon Sotha still an oathbreaker, yet within that monastery lies a chance for me to bury my shame, to know that I had done everything that could ever be done to retrieve that banner, to bury the ghost of Brother Krin, to begin afresh unwbowed by hatred or self loathing. I shall always hate for Sotha, I shall always bear it's shame, yet that is a weight I can bear with my brothers, for we shall bear it as one til our dying day. My oath was mine and mine alone and it crushes me every single day."

He turned once more and raised his arms out to his brother and tears freely beneath his helm

"So tell me brother Vermaas, dependable and reliable. If you had a chance at redemption for what happened upon Sotha, to undo the horrors that tore you apart, would you not do everything in your power to take that chance?"

kudos to lillian thorne for the awesome sig
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post #29 of 137 (permalink) Old 06-01-12, 11:29 PM
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Kain knew that Raxan would have spoken to Cleomenes as he helped him to his feet, knowing that the two had known each other from before Cleomenes had left to travel with the rogue trader. It would be easier for Cleomenes if someone he recognized greeted him first then it might be easier news for him to bear. He turned as he heard an arrogant voice direct towards him, seeing Cleomenes standing there pointing at him.

Kain looked at him, his brother still looked regal amongst the dead world, though he couldn’t help but feel a little angry, if not annoyed from Cleomenes, who stood there as if he was Lord of the manor, and asked around arrogantly.

“I brother Cleomenes, am Sergeant Kain Scrious. We have been tasked by our Lord Sotha to bring you back to the battle barge Heart of Sotha, to help strengthen the chapter.” He said curtly over the vox back at Cleomenes, as he moved over to him. “I suggest you stop standing there and pointing at people, and actually start fighting again, we have more problems to worry about right now.” He said as he moved past him, spotting two sentinels moving towards the group of embattled marines.

Like an afterthought the entire attacking force seemed to melt into the shadows as the sentinels moved forward, obviously not wishing to deal with the marines until the sentinels had either soften them up, or taken care of them completely. Likewise the rogue trader and his followers disappeared to obviously attack those that the marines could not see for the moment, leaving the sentinels up to them.

'Sergeant Kain, Brother Vermaas sir. Brother Izrael is moving in the direction of the ruins of our Monastery. I believe he may be having vox malfunctions. Possibly a lucky pulse round from these filthy graverobbers. I am moving to intercept. Will contact you once I have retrieved him.' A voice spoke coolly into his helmet, and it took Kain a moment to respond. Whilst it would be good to have Vermaas fighting with them, Izrael must be brought to reason, or at least kept an eye on. The chapter couldn't afford to loose any, even Izrael. "Copy that Vermaas, I doubt its vox problems but if you can't get him to rejoin us, stay with him."

Kain looked quickly to see if Solakai was in any condition to assist them, though it seemed as if he had problems of his own, the giant dreadnought fighting hand to hand with another sentinel. Kain wished he could help the giant dreadnought in his fight against the sentinel, but he had his own problems, and had to look out for the rest of the squad.

Kain ducked as a multi laser beam flew overhead, looking to see that one of the sentinel was standing back, firing its multi laser in an attempt to keep the marines pinned down. Kain saw that the other one, which was moving forward at blistering pace had a melta on, and was obviously the biggest threat to the marines and their power armour.

Kain opened a squad channel, including Cleomenes in it, “Brothers we have to bring down that melta sentinel first, it’s the biggest threat to us. Open fire on it, and when it gets closer try and take it out with grenades.”


Last edited by Lord Ramo; 06-02-12 at 07:03 AM.
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post #30 of 137 (permalink) Old 06-02-12, 07:56 AM
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The rebels continued to open fire with their ineffective weaponry, hoping vainly for stroke of luck as their numbers continued to decline. It would not be long now before they were gone or routed, so Zeiran felt it relatively safe to begin a slow advance. He took several steps forward to draw a better bead on a hiding pair of humans only to find they had retreated out of sight. At this moment, movement further ahead caught his eye as the enemy seemed to have received reinforcements.

The sentinel that had been destroyed earlier was clearly not the only one the rebels had at their disposal. The bobbing heads over the crest were a sure indicator of that and Zeiran inched forward even more, crouching behind the same cover he had been about to target. He risked a glance backwards, seeing that most of the squad were present save for Izrael and Vermaas. He couldn't tell where they were but trusted that they were probably just moving on a flank or some similar. He turned to where Brother Solaki had been positioned, disheartened to see that the venerable dreadnought had come under attack from another sentinel that held his lascannon in an iron grip with its power lifter servo. Though the dreadnought was a superior combatant, if the lascannon was lost it would mean valuable time would be lost with it and the destruction of these sentinels would have to be executed at close range. A tricky prospect given that one bore a multi melta and the other packed a less lethal but still threatening multilaser.

That was the only safe assumption, and Zeiran was glad to see he was not the only one to have spotted it. Behind him Sergeant Kain had introduced himself to Cleomenes, something Zeiran had felt a little too shamed from disobedience to do properly, and issued the order to attack the melta toting sentinel as first priority.

'Understood Sergeant.' Zeiran responded. He leaned out of cover and began to take aim. He was acutely aware that his boltgun and a multi melta had a distinctly similar effective range, and it would be able to return fire at much the same time as he was.

There had to be a safer way. He looked at the approaching machines and their attack pattern. The multilaser held itself back, while its melta toting cousin marched forward to reach its effective range. Sound, but predictable.

'Sergeant,' Zeiran began. 'May I suggest we focus fire on the sentinel's legs? If we can reduce its mobility we can flank and destroy it. Or at the very least, slow its approach until Brother Solaki can finish it off...

A series of scorched craters appeared in the cover and ground next to Zeiran's position as the multilaser sentinel sprayed his general vicinity. Whatever decision they made would have to be made quickly, as the melta grew closer by the second...


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