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post #61 of 173 (permalink) Old 01-26-14, 06:32 PM
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The Autocannon shook violently in Vettal’s hands as it roared into life. Vettal’s helmets sensors followed the stream of high-calibre shells as they cut through the air towards the crude Ork transport. The first shell obliterated the skull of one of the roaring Ork passengers, abruptly silencing him and sending the body spinning to the dirt below. The second shell, impacting only a split second later, impacted the body of the primitive-looking Ork weapon with a piercing scream of twisted metal. The sound of tortured metal lasted only an instant before the remaining shells slammed into the main hull of the Ork transport, igniting the fuel tank and turning it into a flaming fireball that flips over itself and rolls down the ridge in a mess of flames and death. The wreck of the transport careered into the immediate path of another of the transports, causing it to veer wildly to avoid it, ramming into the third transport in the process and causing them both to upend, spilling the furious and disoriented Orks onto the ground.

Vettal tilted back his head and roared with laughter, the pain from the shaft of metal still protruding from his leg all but forgotten in the glorious rush of battle. The roar of more attentions caught Vettal’s attention once more and, as he levelled his sights at the ridge once more, five more Ork transports roar into sight. Vettal’s training quickly draws his attention to the transports improved armour, more durable chassis, and more importantly of all, the unmistakable bellowing, hulking figure of an Ork Warboss, standing in a heavily modified and well-armoured transport.

Swearing under his breath, Vettal realised that the Warboss’ transport was too heavily-armoured for even his Autocannon to take down, and the Warboss himself too obscured for him to get a clear shot of him. Raising his gaze, Vettal’s eyes fell upon the crouched figure of Veptus, and he smiled. The Corpse-Master’s accuracy was renowned, and if anyone would be able to take a shot at the Warboss, it would be him.

Opening a vox channel to the Apocethary for a second time, Vettal was short and to the point.

"Corpse-Master, five more transports coming over the ridge"

Vettal watched as Veptus turned his sights towards the ridge, and the approaching tansports.

“Aye, I see them Vettal.”

Knowing that his fellow Night Lord would have spotted the high-priority target of the Warboss aboard the leading transport, Vettal spoke again.

“Do you have a shot on the Warboss?”

“I do, and I’m taking it.”

A split second later, the Corpsemaster’s adapted Sniper Rifle “Malice” barked once, sending a single round buzzing through the air towards the Warboss. Vettal’s eyes followed the shot through the air to where it made resounding impact with the Warboss.

However, rather than the kill-shot that Vettal had been expecting from Veptus, the round struck the Warboss’ shoulder, doing little more than enraging the huge Ork and causing the transport to gun its engines and move even faster towards where the Frist Claw were making their stand.

Realising that he would need to take action himself, Vettal levelled his Autocannon and sighted one one of the smaller transports, only for his vox to burst into life and the voice of Raskreia to come across.

"Hey Vettal I'm hoping you would be kind enough to hose down some greenskins for me before they take the 4th Company Standard away from me. You know, as payment for hauling your wounded ass out of The Revenant."

Vettal turned to survey the battlefield and soon saw the figure of the Standard Bearer, standing beside the upright Company Banner with his Bolt Pistol and Axe drawn, facing off against six hulking Orks who all seemed intent on taking the Banner as a trophy.

Making a quick decision, Vettal hefted his Autocannon across, lined up with the group of Ork and squeezed the trigger. With a roar, a stream of shells quickly closed the distance between Vettal and Raskreia. One shell made a solid impact with one of the Orks chests, sending the hurtling several metres backwards, only to come to rest in a twisted heap. Another round slammed into an Ork’s skull, causing the greenskins head to disappear in a puff of red mist and the body to collapse to the ground.

Ceasing his stream of fire, Vettal watched as Xandrek arrived at the scene, knocking one of the Orks off his feet. After a short fire-fight, and once Vettal was satisfied that the Banner was secure, he quickly turned his attention back to the transports, which had made good progress towards the First Claw. Barely aiming, Vettal squeezed the trigger.

The Autocannon’s high-calibre rounds slammed into one of the smaller transports. The driver’s chest separated itself from the rest of the body, and as another Ork dived desperately for the wheel, the right track of the Ork transport exploded in an eruption of red-hot metal and the transport flipped over itself and was engulfed by a blazing fireball.

As the stream of bullets ceased, Vettal felt a hand on his shoulder, and he had already grasped the handle of his chain-sword before he recognized the figure of the First Claws Champion Azrael.

“If you can’t move fast enough brother, Xandrek will leave you behind.”

And with that, Azrael was gone as quickly as he had come. Vettal knew that the First Champion was a cold killer, and did not doubt the truth of his words. And so, with an almighty effort, Vettal dragged himself to a standing position, although the blinding pain as he moved his wounded leg almost caused him to fall to the ground once more.

The Silent Lions Chapter

Winter Falls


Give a man a match and he will be warm for a day.
Set a man on fire and he will be warm for the rest of his life.
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post #62 of 173 (permalink) Old 02-07-14, 04:21 PM
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Default Tales of the Eighth Legion. (Action Thread.)

Veptus was trying to get a decent shot on the Warboss but none was forth-coming. His previous botched attempt had made the dumb brute cautious to expose himself again so openly, although Veptus could still hear it’s voice urging the smaller orks around it forwards. Out of the eye Veptus hadn’t glued to the sight he could see Azrael throw Xandrek a helmet. Veptus’s public and private training had allowed him to rewire his brain to process two separate images from each eye at once. Of course, his Astartes body helped immensely with this as well. Each member of the First Claws armour was as distinctive as the face beneath it and at the helmet spiralled through the air, Veptus knew it was Manroth’s helmet. At least he was still useful to Xandrek even in death. Xandrek used his shield as a battering ram and in the same motion slid the helmet over his head.

A moment later, his voice crackled over the vox. “Veptus my dear Corpse-Master, think you can abandon that little nest of yours that you’ve build for yourself up there for a stroll in this oh so lovely country side?” A growling chuckle came from Xandrek and a few other members of the First Claw. Veptus chuckled too, but there was no warmth in it. It was icy and bitter. Although in the intervening moments between his last shot and now Veptus had forced himself to compose, he was still dangerously teetering on the edge of psychotic rage. Veptus was not used to being denied his kills, and that happening set him more on edge than any number of orks baying for blood.

Veptus only half listened to the rest of Xandrek’s orders. They were to move out but other than that the details were largely inconsequential to Veptus. He would have one more shot on the Warboss before he left his sniper’s nest. The five transports ground to a halt and the occupants began to disembark. He couldn’t stay long or Xandrek would leave him here to die, so he chose his shots with care. He focused on the larger orks which surrounded the Warboss, assuming that they were to the Warboss what the First Claw was to Xandrek. Most went unhelmeted and Veptus couldn’t help but snort derisively as he put down three with contemptuous headshots.

He knew he had to leave and tend to Vettal before they could get moving. As Veptus went to leave, the Warboss disembarked from his transport. Veptus didn’t have the time to line up a perfect shot to kill the monstrous brute, but he couldn’t let it go without putting at least one more shot in it. Veptus could shoot it just about anywhere, but he decided to maximise his effect by destroying what had already been damaged. Veptus lined up a hasty shot for the Warboss’s damaged shoulder, a far larger target than the head. His rifle kicked and sent another bolt which blasted apart the shoulder joint and severed multiple tendons. Veptus watched the Warboss roar impotently as his arm went limp at his side, refusing to obey the commands of its infantile mind.

Then he was moving. As he sprinted down the length of the thunderhawk, he shouldered “Malice” and dropped off the downed bird’s nose. He knees bent to accommodate for the inpact and small clouds of dried dirt kicked up around his feet. He spun around to face Vettal and watched the Night Lord’s body visibly struggle as he tried to support all his weight on his own legs. Veptus said nothing as he approached and dropped to a crouch to inspect Vettal’s wound. The shard of metal had gone through and through the centre of Vettal’s shin, which was fortunate. He needed to get it out to be able to repair any damage and the Larraman cells would keep him from bleeding out if any major arteries were severed, at least for as long as Veptus needed. He injected combat stims into Vettal’s bloodstream. They would take a moment to work but Veptus wouldn’t wait that long. He looked up at Vettal. “This will hurt a lot, and you can scream if you like. But if you let orks swarm us while I’m helping you, I’ll kill you myself.”

Veptus didn’t wait for a response before he quickly pulled the full length of the metal out of Vettal’s leg. He made some sort of groaning noise and Veptus thought he was going to fall for a moment. He grabbed Vettal’s hip to steady him, but the Night Lord kept standing though it obviously pained him to do so. Veptus peeled away Vettal’s lower leg armour, allowing him full access to the damaged limb. A moment later the las-scapel was in Veptus’s hand from his Narthecium. The searing heat of the laser blade cauterized the several severed arteries. The tibialis anterior muscle had a hole in it where the metal had punched straight through it and the soleus and gastrocnemius has sustained a bit of damage as well. Both the tibia and fibula had sustained displacement fractures where the metal had been driven in between them and they no longer aligned as they should.

The sounds of the battlefield faded into the background and Veptus didn’t pay attention to anything other than what he was going. In extreme juxtaposition to his seething rage moments ago about being unable to end the Warboss, Veptus was a picture of calm; the eye of a storm. The noises from Vettal became quieter as the drugs began to take effect. The first thing to do was to realign the bones and set them before they moved even further out of alignment. Veptus pressed on either side of the leg and with a painful crunch pushed the two bones back into place. Vettal grunted, but the pain and Veptus ignored it, knowing the pain would have been nearly unbearable without the combat stims. Under any stress like running they would come apart though, so Veptus injected some medical concrete around the fractures. Vettal’s body would naturally break that down over time, but it would hold the bones in place for the time being.

Next Veptus needed muscle grafts to patch up the damage to those damaged ones. Normally Veptus would take it from the other leg, but given that speed was the required quality Veptus was trying to restore, he knew that would hinder more than it would help. Veptus peeled off Vettal’s chest-plate and cut sparingly at the pectoralis major muscle in Vettal’s chest. Veptus took one even layer off of each, ensuring that the muscle was no weaker at any point than at any other, leaving it no less liable to snapping than before he had started cutting away. Veptus was sure to take of thin layers but over a wide area, meaning that the muscles he was trimming wouldn’t be noticeably weakened when needed, but that he had enough muscle to graft onto Vettal’s leg.

At this moment Jaekal sauntered over and enquired about Vettal’s injury. Veptus seethed with annoyance. “Shut up you insolent cur!” Veptus hissed as he sprayed a layer of synth-skin over the cuts he had made on Vettal’s chest and reattached the plate he had removed. The Chaplain had an unpleasant habit of inserting himself where he had no business being and where he was not wanted. Veptus ignored him past his venomous reprimand and continued his work. With the muscle layers from Vettal’s chest, he set about grafting them chiefly over the hole in Vettal’s tibialis anterior. His Narthecium sprayed a synthetic bonding agent which acted as connective tissue between the old and new muscle. The leg muscles would still be weaker than before, but the grafts repaired the worst of the tears and insured that, like the bones, they would hold together for the time being which was all Vettal needed.

Lastly, Veptus reached up the inside of Vettal’s leg, the movement breaking open several of the veins Veptus had sealed and covering his gauntlet in the bright red of Astartes blood. He found the severed tendon and pulled it back down to join the lower part of the tendon where it had snapped. He joined the two and placed some nanotubes which would provide a way for the blood to flow through Vettal’s leg before spraying on a layer of synth-skin to seal his work in. It was not a permanent solution but battlefield operations under conditions such as these rarely were. Still, it was far better and would last for longer than anything any other of the 4th company’s apothecaries could have done. Content with his work, Veptus stood up. “Time to go.” he said with just an edge of annoyance. He contemplated briefly chastising Jaekal further, but decided against it. Better to do it later when he could do it properly. Instead, he brought “Fear” and “Mercy” to his hand and made a move toward the ridge where Xandrek, Azrael and Raskreia already were heading. If Vettal fell behind now, Veptus had done all he could…

My contribution to the Renegades saga. Check it out

My growing IIIrd legion stuff:

17th Millenial (Homebrew Fluff) - "Children of the Emperor, death to his foes!" (Project Log)

Also my 30k tacticas, for those of you interested:

Crusade Army List tactica - Individual Legion tactica

Originally Posted by Angel of Blood View Post
And for two fucking grand, I could buy enough rum and hookers to 'artistically' recreate the better part of Pirates of the Caribbean.

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post #63 of 173 (permalink) Old 02-09-14, 01:37 PM
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Waiting tensely for Vettal's response Raskreia carefully drew a bead on the far right ork. Before the trigger could be depressed far enough to fire a bolt through the orks head Raskreia hears the tell tale grinding-brass of Vettal's autocannon mere seconds before the orks on the left started to collapse, one taking a heavy caliber round to his chest while another had his head ripped off stumbling forwards a few more feet before catching up too the fact it had died.

Wondering why Vettal had ceased his firing when Xandrek to the leftmost ork off his feet with a shield bash to it's head getting the attention of the remaining group. Putting a round through the head of the far right ork Raskreia quickly shifts his aim to the ork to the ork in the middle putting a bolt through its head as well switching to the last ork not engaged with Xandrek sending a blot into its chest exploding it and rupturing several organs dropping it to it's knees.

Looking at Xandrek Raskrei sees he has Manroth's helmet on before hearing his growling voice over the vox, “Raskreia, contact Voss and tell him that I want the name of the mechanical ape who was supposed to fix that transport. Also relay the orks to track the signal coming from your vox so he always has a fix on our location and that we are moving to find out where these orks came from and better cover. Let’s move Standard Bearer.” "Understood Captain." before putting another round through the crippled orks chest killing it. Connecting back into the company's vox-net Raskreia says, "Sergeant Voss, Captain Xandrek wants the name of the, in his words, mechanical ape that was supposed to fix your transport and to tell you that we are moving out to find where these damnable greenskins are came from. I will set my vox to relay our position.

Holstering his pistol Raskreia pulls the standard from the ground from which he had planted it mere moments ago lips snarling curling in anger. Following in Xandrek's wake laying about with his power axe Raskreia takes an arm off at the shoulder before planting a foot into it's stomach and sending it collapsing backwards into its fellow orks before cleaving the chest of another open before taking the forearm off another who thought it a smart idea to reach for the banner. Oh it's just better and better today. First we get taken out of the sky then we are ambushed but wait!! That damn sermonizing bastard just has to set the fugging forest on fire because well the fugging bastard is a pyromaniac I guess. Caught up in his own thoughts Raskreia's eyes drift over to the warboss who seems to be caught in deciding on who to engage personally as Xandrek is obviously the leader, Azreal the best fighter, while he carries the banner. Well maybe if I give the banner to Azreal the damn brute would focus on him allowing me to land a strike at his back or something. Though it should be quick as this battle should not drag out any more than it has. Using his external vox Raskreia calls to Azreal, "Azreal the warboss is stalking the three of us. It would be wise to eliminate that bastard quickly. It is my suggestion that you take the banner for now allowing me to take a strike at his back. That is no slight to your ability but mere practicality as we cannot afford an extended engagement!" Holding the Fourth Company Standard out for Azreal to take it.

"Loyalty is its own reward."
Lion El'Jonson.
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post #64 of 173 (permalink) Old 02-28-14, 03:03 AM
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"...check on Vettal and Veptus to see if they idiot if going to slow us down while giving the Corpse-Master some covering fire.”

"As you command," was Jaekal's response. The combat with the Orks was wearing on the Chaplain's patience. This was not their mission, these xenos were impeding the timetable of the grander scheme. Regardless, Jaekal knew what must be done, and made haste to Vettal and Veptus' position.

He could hear the report of autocannon fire, reaching the scene as Veptus was in the midst of triaging Vettal's wounds. "Will he live?" the Chaplain asked plainly, not looking down but scanning the perimeter for movement. "Shut up you insolent cur!" spat the Apothecary, not bothering to look up from his work. "I wonder who will patch you up when the time comes, Corpse-Master. We are all flesh and bone, when you get down to it." He could do it right here, Veptus would never see it coming. A strike would sever the head and Vettal would succumb to his wounds. He shook the notion from his mind, a momentary break in his sanity. With nothing left to be said, and his presence not necessary, Jaekal took off for the ridge in the direction of Xandrek and Azrael. There were more xenos to dispatch.

Cresting the ridgeline, Jaekal could see two score Orks and the Boss. The other Night Lords had already began to engage, which displeased the Chaplain. Grabbing a frag grenade, he threw it into the flank of the Ork mob. Bellowing a challenge, the grenade exploded, maiming several Orks. "That'll get your attention. Over here, pests!" A group of three Orks separated from the rest, charging up the hill towards the Chaplain. "To easy," he laughed, as he squeezed the trigger of his meltagun. The superheated round impacted the lead Ork, disappearing for a moment before exploding its chest from within. Cackling with glee, he fired another round, vaporizing a second Ork from the waist down. Securing the weapon and drawing his Crozius in the same motion, Jaekal caught the last Ork with an upward swing of the weapon, cleaving its face in two. Pulling out his plasma pistol, he dispatched the still-twitching Ork with a shot to the chest before finishing the de-legged one with a heel stomp. Rushing to the side of his fellow Nightlords, he threw himself into the melee with a sadistic grin.

Originally Posted by Putch. View Post
All I can say is holy meltafuck.
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a massive mess of incorrect information and patrotic [email protected]$%s wiggling.
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post #65 of 173 (permalink) Old 03-02-14, 04:59 PM
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Xandrek’s blade was buried in an Ork’s skull as he slammed Manroth’s helmet over his head. The blade was wrenched free before the Ork even had time to collapse.

I smiled slightly as I heard his voice over the vox. He was already growling orders to the other members of First Claw as he looked from me and then motioned to the large group of orks. The group he motioned towards had just disembarked from several transports that had come over the hill and also, I noted after several seconds of examination interspersed in slicing two orks to pieces, the Warboss was with them.

“Azrael we are going through that group of orks to get to that ridge as Voss is on his way to pick us up as he was late.” Xandrek growled in annoyance that there were problems with one of the transports carrying our company. “Kill if you can, maim and cripple as main priority we cannot afford to get stuck out here in the open especially now that Jaekal has decided to build us a premature funeral pyre.”

I laughed grimly at his joke, knowing the truth of it. The burning forest sent up a signal that could be seen by anyone for miles around. Or, more accurately, could be seen by curious Orks for miles around. Those not involved in the siege of the fortress would come searching for us.

I moved in step with Xandrek and we were joined by Raskreia as the standard bearer charged in, power axe in his right hand and standard in his left. He joined us as we charged into the group of Orks including the Warboss, screaming and waving their weapons. I estimated forty or more including the Warboss. We lashed out with our weapons, Xandrek simply slashing with his sword and stopping blows with his shield without bothering to look back at the maimed, dead or dying Orks he left in his wake. I slid beneath a giant cleaver and pushed my power sword up through the Ork’s gut and into his heart. Yanking the sword free and jumping to my feet I spun and thrust the vibrating blade of my Chainsword through another’s face, tearing its skull to pieces.

I saw a third aiming a bolt pistol at Xandrek’s head and threw my Chainsword. Flipping end over end, the blade went through the Ork’s left shoulder blade and erupted from beneath its right armpit.

Two more Ork’s died beneath my blade before I turned my gaze to the Warboss. He seemed confused, as if trying to work out who he should attack. I could only presume, but I guessed he viewed Xandrek as similar to himself, liked the look of the banner Raskreia carried and knew that I was the most deadly fighter. Hence his brutish mind found it difficult to decide who he should attack first. I knew exactly who. I began running towards him.

Raskreia stopped me, calling out a question. "Azreal the warboss is stalking the three of us. It would be wise to eliminate that bastard quickly. It is my suggestion that you take the banner for now allowing me to take a strike at his back. That is no slight to your ability but mere practicality as we cannot afford an extended engagement!"

I replied. “Very well Raskreia but if you cannot find an opening you get Xandrek out of here. It is my duty to die in his stead, if I die and then he dies only minutes later I guarantee I will come out of the Warp to drag your screaming kicking body back down with me.” The later words were a grim jest but also a serious warning. If Xandrek did die, I would avenge him or die trying. If I died first, I would come from the Warp to annihilate those responsible.

We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment - and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly.
— Flemeth

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.
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Azrael: Taking the banner from Raskreia you continue moving forwards towards the Warboss with the banner in your left hand and your power sword in your right taking out any orks who get in the way of you and their leader, who shoves aside his underlings as he bellows out a challenge and charges towards you with his massive two-headed axe in his right hand and a lethal looking mechanical claw around his left. Grinning as it charges towards you the Warboss lets out a throaty laugh as it swings it around arcing towards your left arm that is carrying the banner. (From here on as we discussed over Skype, im leaving your fight with the Warboss entirely up to you. Once your done go to the everyone part.)

Raskreia: Azrael takes the banner for you and makes a bee-line straight towards the Warboss who in turn smashes those of his underlings in his way out of his way as he charges forwards to get to grips with Azrael who is clearly the better fighter and now has the banner which the Warboss clearly wants aswell. Drawing your pistol again you put a shot through the chest of an ork charging towards you and with a back handed swing you separate another’s arm from its body before shooting it in the head as you turn on the spot to see where Xandrek and the others are. You can see Jaekal slamming his crozius into the chests and heads of orks while dispatching them with his plasma pistol should they be out of range or infront of him, You see Veptus guarding Xandrek as he looks down at a now more injured Vettal before the captain turns his attention to look at you with his voice crackling over the vox: “Raskreia, keep good care of this as I will be wanting it back.” With that he throws you his tower shield before sheathing his blade and hauling the wounded Vettal onto his shoulders before heading off back up the hill with Vettal and Veptus. (It is up to you if you holster your pistol or sheath your axe to use the shield in your other hand.)

Striding forward you dispatch orks left and right as you try to follow behind Vettal, Veptus and Xandrek but one of the large orks imposes his way infront of you and slams his left shoulder into you which manage to get Xandrek’s shield infront of you to brace yourself and instead of being knocked onto your back you simply plant your feet into the soil and get pushed back two feet before you exert your own strength to stop being pushed back. Looking at the ork you can see it smiling and laughing to itself clearly impressed by your strength as it raises its free hand which wields a two handed axe with a crackling green field around it before bringing it down to slam into your right shoulder. Smiling slightly under your helmet you think that this might be interesting however you do not have time to get into a prolonged fight as you need to break out of his minor skirmish and join in the main assault after being picked up by the transport which is on the way.

Veptus: Setting off after the Captain, Champion and Banner Bearer you are joined by Jaekal who runs along side you and you hear the lumbering steps of the injured Vettal behind you as all of First Claw charge towards the large group of orks in the way. Lashing out left and right with your blade you use your knowledge of Orkish anatomy from having dissected several orks (both living and dead) to sever muscle, ligaments and nerves dropping them with cries and roars of outrage from the now crippled orks with your pistol spitting death into those too far infront of you and those who seem to be trying to overwhelm your Squad-Brothers. With Azrael charging straight towards the Warboss you turn your head slightly to the left and see that Vettal is just about keeping up with the rest of First claw but as he shreds an ork with almost point blank shots from his auto-cannon you see a second ork slam an axe into the injured leg of Vettal dropping him instantly and sending another surge of anger through you as your work seems to be for naught as its now entirely possible that should Vettal survive he will need a bionic replacement and you had used up some of your limited medical supplies when you could of kept them for one of the other members of First Claw by leaving Vettal behind.

Spinning on the spot you dodge out of the way of a cleaver wielding ork and jam the barrel of your pistol under his jaw and pull the trigger with the orks head disappearing in an explosion of blood, bone and brain matter. Seeing Xandrek sheath his blade and throw Raskreia you see him haul Vettal up onto his shoulders ignoring the bullets ricocheting off of his armour as he sprints up past all of the orks up towards the hill. Taking a final look around at the orks and killing a few more (another 4 so feel free to describe them.) you sprint after Xandrek as it is your job to keep him alive and the Captain seems to have a knack for getting out of any unfavorable situations without too much harm. Following closely behind Xandrek you have time to talk with him (feel free to pm or skype me pre-post) on what to do about the others still fighting before you move past him and up to the top of the hill, upon looking down in the direction you were going to see that the fortress is not too far away, maybe twenty kilometers away however given the amount of explosions and the amount of orks streaming in from the surroundings towards the fortress it wasn’t going to be that easy getting there and the transport wouldn’t arrive for another thirty-five minutes. Pulling your sniper rifle back out of its holster you look to Xandrek for orders and his ideas.

Jaekal: Slamming into the melee with a smile on your lips hidden under your helmet you being bellowing out more litanies of hatred for xenos and doing the work of the Emperor (remember this flash back is pre-isstvan and the burning of Nostramo), you slam the end of your crozius into an orks chest shattering its rip cage and pulping its organs dropping it instantly you see Raskreia throw Azrael the standard which makes the Warboss instantly focus on the champion and bellow a challenge before charging off towards him. Leaving Azrael to deal with the Warboss you see that the rest of First Claw is killing its way forward though the momentum of the charge has been somewhat blunted by the sheer number of orks and that Vettal has once again been downed by a strike to his leg forcing Xandrek to haul the wounded Auto-cannon bearer up onto his shoulders. Looking to see that Vettal has abandoned his auto-cannon makes you realize that it would be unwise to leave such as useful weapon behind so you begin to fight your way towards it to stop the orks from claiming it. (You may kill up to five orks on your way to the auto-cannon.)

Fighting your way towards Vettal’s auto-cannon you holster your plasma pistol and haul the cannon itself up onto your left shoulder as you follow after Xandrek who is now carrying Vettal and Veptus who is following close behind the captain but before you can get five paces you are tackled from the left side by an ork who bears you to the ground with his meaty hands wrapped around your throat having lost his weapons as he tries to choke you to death and slams your back into the ground several times while other orks move in around you to try and get help out their comrade and as you try to get the ork off of you, you see something in the sky above you seemingly plummeting straight down towards this skirmish though you are not able to tell what it is.

Var (Vettal): Thanks to the ministrations of Veptus the pain you have been feeling lessens to a numb throbbing and you are able to move easier, while also supporting the weight of your auto-cannon you lumber off after Veptus and the rest of First Claw towards the large group of orks and the Warboss that disembarked from the transports. While moving in a limping run you stop every fifteen to twenty steps to haul up your auto-cannon and sent several of its shells hurtling into the large group of orks and their transports to thin them out. As the other members of First Claw slam into the group of orks you follow in the path of Veptus and Jaekal who are in some way clearing a path for you as they lash our left and right with their blade and crozius unleashing shots from their pistols aswell allowing you to catch them up as they get slowed slightly by how durable orks are.

Swinging your auto-cannon around to use the end as a club you shatter the nose and tusks of an ork charging at you from your right before swinging it down and unleashing a quick burst into the now reeling ork but as having been slowed to take time to dispatch the ork you turn throw yourself off balance as a second ork wielding a battered but still functional axe slams the edge down into your side of your already injured leg shattering the armour of your knee and biting deep into the bone dropping you instantly.

The ork rips the axe from your leg and raises it above its head as it glares down at you with hatred and bloodlust in its beady red eyes and as the blade axe comes swinging down it is intercepted by a dark blade with Nostraman runes etched along the blade and you know that blade is Xandrek’s as he twists and rams it into the orks throat before withdrawing it and looking down at you leveling his sword to your face plate as the rest of First Claw continue keeping the orks busy: “Leave the canon Vettal or you get left behind. And yes I know im breaking my own orders but you should know I break them all the time.” With that Xandrek waits until you remove the harness of your auto-cannon before throwing his shield to Raskreia and sheathing his blade he reaches down and hauls you up onto his shoulders as you hear him say “Today is going to be a long day.” Turning back towards the hill he begins sprinting off with you now on his shoulders with his bolt pistol in your hands to cover his back.

Tyberus: OOC: You didn’t post for the last update so try to post for that and then catch up with the everyone parts.

- - - - - - - - - -

Everyone: Each of you comes out of your memories in a different way, some of you may blink a couple of times or shake your head lightly as you hear the clanking of ceramite boots on the deck and see Xandrek stalking towards you with his shield attached to his left arm, his bolter hanging on its strap and his power sword in its sheath, You look around and see that at some point Vandread had joined you and is now leaning with his arms crossed against one side of the Stormbird as he watches each of you. Moving together into a rough semi-circle as Xandrek comes to a halt infront of you he nods his head to Azrael, Raskreia and Veptus before his crimson lens turn to regard Var before finally speaking. “While you ladies have been seemingly day dreaming from what Sergeant Xhing tells me, we have translated from the warp into the Isstvan system with the rest of the fleet despite earlier warnings from our Librarians telling us that we would be early.” Xandrek then begins pacing back and forth lightly. “I have recently just finished a conversation with the First-Captain and all captains and their Command squads are to report to the flagship for briefing. And before any of you ask a certain pointless question: Yes, we are heading over to the Nightfall where I shall meet with our Father and the other captains while the rest of you try to behave yourselves is that understood?” Xandrek’s helmet rests upon Var as he says this before he motions to the interior of the ‘Revenant’.

After motioning Xandrek ascends the ramp with all of you in tow before he turns his back on the doors separating the cockpit and the rest of the interior as he watches all of you take your place in your restraint harness’s though Xandrek placing a warding hand infront of Var should he attempt to go towards the cockpit to pilot the ship to which he would say. “Techmarine Malak, is our best pilot which you no doubt remember Var, and I have order him that he will pilot us to the Nightfall and then down onto Isstvan so return to your restraint harness.”

Several minutes pass after the stormbird transport embarkation ramp closes as Malak does some final preflight checks before you feel the transport shudder and the whine of the engines kick in as the ‘Revenant’ takes off and heads towards the Nightfall, Flagship of the Night Lords Legion, Home of the First Company and their progenitor: Konrad Curze, The Night Haunter. During the flight from the ‘Maiden’ to the ‘Nightfall’ you have time to talk with each other, contemplate how Isstvan will turn out or even ask Xandrek questions on a private link if you so wish. For you: Var and Vandread this will be your first time aboard the Night Lords flag ship, so how do you feel about stepping into the domain of the First Company and your Gene-Sire? (If anyone has some questions then feel free to ask me in a pm or over skype.)
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post #67 of 173 (permalink) Old 03-20-14, 03:05 AM
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Vandread let a sickening smile spread across his scared face, his dry cracked lips splitting as they spread into an unfamiliar expression. Vandread did not smile often but when he did it could be almost as horrify as the Night Haunters own grin of madness. 'It has been so long since I've seen my gene-sire how glorious it shall be to join him in the purging of the loyalists fools on the surface of Istavaan.' Vandread thought with a certain joy knowing he would be spilling blood in his fathers name once again, and he was thankful to his Leader Xandrek for giving him this tremendous opportunity he would have to make it up to his Captain in some shape or way. As he thinks this to himself he starts to look around at his battle-brothers noticing all of them in there own thoughts of the coming meeting with there Gene-sire and the rest of the legion. He notices that Var looks about ready to Pilot the Thunder-Hawk himself. He lets loose a rough laugh hoping he tries to see Xandreak put him in his place. He begins to ideally rub the hilt of his chainsword imaging running it through his fathers enemies and bathing in there blood. Looking to his left he sees Azrael and decides to ask the squads Champion on his thoughts of the upcoming meeting and battle. "Brother-Champion Azrael what are your thoughts on meeting our Father and planning the Loyalist Fools demise on the Surface of Itstavaan?" He questions with his wide grin still in place.

Last edited by CryptM; 03-22-14 at 10:07 PM.
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post #68 of 173 (permalink) Old 03-23-14, 05:11 AM
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Slowly but surely most of the others of First Claw move further and further away towards the new LZ, lead by the Captain. Tyberus stormbolter, wielded in his left hand yields a resounding boom with each alternating bolt round that is fired. With his maul strapped onto his back he draws his bolt pistol in his right hand, firing into the charging ranks of Kommandos.

Laying down fire, almost completely ignoring the incoming, poorly aimed round from the oncoming Kommandos. Several rounds leave minor gouges in the chest plating and ricochet off the pauldrons of his armor. One round deflecting off the gorget however draws Tyberus' immediate attention, tracking the trajectory the round likely followed he noticed a Kommando with a big shoota working hastily to reload his cumbersome and primative looking weapon. A burst from the stormbolter turned the struggling Kommando's torso into pulp, a well timed shot from his bolt pistol blowing the head clean off the Kommando who tried to pick up his compatriots big shoota.

They closed the distance still, Tyberus snarled over the vox "This is why First Claw claims the most kills!" his voice boomed over the vox, an almost jovial tone to his voice as he spoke. He enjoyed the violence. Jogging towards his comrades, turning and firing he took down another three Kommandos. He jogged towards Jaekal, turned and fired again, and again he added to his kill tally. Walking backwards and firing his storm bolte, his pistol having run dry he holstered it and drew his power maul once more. Bringing the massive weapon up in time to cave in the skull of a Kommando who had closed the distance surprisingly quickly. As the last of the Kommandos fell to Tyberus' storm bolter he turned and ran to catch up with the rest of First Claw "Our rear flank is secured brothers."
As the Captain admonished them Tyberus couldn't help but grin from ear to ear, "So Captain it's finally happening? We're finally being called to most glorious war. Woe betides any who stand against the Night Lords in the coming war." His low, rumbling voice intoned a seriousness that seemed wholly appropriate for what they were about to undertake. Because he had once been a devout follower, as had they all to the Emperor. Now though, he wanted nothing more than to break away from the chains of the Imperium and destroy anyone or anything that stood in his and the Night Lords way.

As he boarded the transport he made sure he took a seat next to Jaekal, he and the Chaplain were what remained of those who still followed some semblances of the "old ways," though clearly they had warped them to their own visions. Still, things like taking oaths of moment and even simply continuing with sermons, or in Tyberus' case, attending sermons brought an untrusting gaze upon the two. However, in battle, both had proven more than competent in both skill and loyalty to the First Claw.

"Once more we go to war my brother," Tyberus roared as he slammed his fist onto the armored shoulder of Jaekal in boisterous fashion. Followed by, "We must be vigilant while we aboard the NightFall Jaekal," this time speaking over a private vox channel to the Chaplain, the implication was clear, he no longer trusted Var, but still did not want to incite the others to violence. Var would not be acting alone, perhaps Tyberus, with the help of Jaekal could discover the tech marine's co-conspirators.
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post #69 of 173 (permalink) Old 04-02-14, 06:03 PM
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The earth quickly turned to mud under Veptus’s boots at the blood of the brutes Veptus slew mingled with the dried ground. This cocktail of foul-smelling secretions and dust splashed against Veptus’s shins as Fear parted an orks skull in a vicious upward sweep. The stench of the charred flesh and brain matter wormed its way through Veptus’s helmet as the slain ork fell backwards and splattered Veptus with more viscera. Veptus slew with both energised blade and organic fire from Mercy, more often than not to maim rather to kill. In Veptus’s experience orks proved extremely resilient, so much so that it often bordered on absurd. Veptus refused to deal body blows to these brutes as more often than not Fear merely became wedged in their bones plate and he had less manoeuvrability with which to avoid retaliation attacks. Instead, all of Veptus’s attacks removed limbs or heads, which was usually enough to put the beast down or at least allow them to be trampled as their fellows charged ahead. Although even with the head removed or hearts destroyed, the ork’s body responded to electrical impulses that no longer occurred.

Another greenskin ran at him, bellowing a challenge. Veptus rolled his eyes as the beast came, swinging its axe in a downward stroke that would probably have parted Veptus down the middle had it landed. Instead Veptus spun around the ork, its blow missing him entirely, before taking off the arm at the elbow and burying Fear in the back of the creature’s neck, parting the spinal column. The beast cried in impotent rage as it’s body refused to respond and it fell to the floor. Veptus was already moving, keeping pace with Xandrek, Azrael and Raskreia. Jaekal ran alongside him, not that Veptus would like to depend on him for anything more than a bullet to the head or a knife across the throat, and maybe not even that. Behind him, Veptus could hear Vettal moving at an admirable pace, his autocannon still scything down orks with its high calibre payload.

Azrael ran off to slay the Warboss, hopefully causing some collapse in whatever cohesion there was in this mob trying to swamp them with their own blood and bodies. Veptus turned his head to see how far Vettal was behind them. He would not die for the man, but he also did not want to lose him if it could be avoided. He saw Vettal gun one ork down at close range before another shattered his already weakened leg. Veptus growled in frustration. That work had been for naught, since Vettal would almost certainly need a bionic replacement if he made it out of this at all.

A cleaver wielding ork tried to rush him in this moment of observation. The beast tried to disembowel him with the crude weapon. Veptus ducked under the blow and came up with Mercy in hand. The serpenta drove upwards under the ork’s chin so hard that is actually punched through the space in between the beast’s jaw and into its mouth. A split second later he pulled the trigger and the ork’s head disappeared in an ball of organic fire, its body flailing and convulsing as it was consumed.

In a curious display of selflessness which Nostramans were not used to seeing or participating in, Xandrek sheathed his sword and ran back for Vettal, hefting the Astartes onto his shoulders as crude ork slugs ricocheted of his armour. With Azrael engaged with bringing the Warboss, in what Veptus was sure was a brilliant display of swordsmanship if he bothered to watch, the duty of protecting their captain fell to Veptus.

Veptus sprinted laterally towards Xandrek and Vettal. An ork cut in front of him, anxious to reach the two. Veptus leapt forward, Fear swinging over his head. As he landed, his axe cleaved the ork’s skull in twain and continued to cut through the greenskin’s body as Veptus bore it to the ground under the weight of his blow. Another tried to rush his Captain, but Veptus spun out with a blow to the orks spine, severing the spinal cord. A split second later the orks skull was engulfed by the discharge from Mercy as Veptus continued to cut a bloody path towards the Lord of Lies.

The three of them moved up and Veptus cut down the orks that tried to oppose them. Gradually the others began to move after the Captain and his Apothecary. The fortress was still a way in the distance, and given the amount of artillery and the number of orks between the Night Lords and it, the journey there was not going to be any easier that what they had already faced. Veptus holstered Fear and Mercy and un-holstered Malice once again. He turned back to Xandrek…

…Veptus had been speaking all this time, relaying the memory as it came back to him, as fresh as the day it had happened. “We struck the nest and they poured out like vermin. And now we are about to do the same.” The rest of the First Claw had formed into a semi-circle and Xandrek began to speak just as Veptus’s anecdote reached its conclusion.
“While you ladies have been seemingly day dreaming from what Sergeant Xhing tells me, we have translated from the warp into the Isstvan system with the rest of the fleet despite earlier warnings from our Librarians telling us that we would be early.” The Captain paced back and forth lightly, intermittently making eye contact with them all, although he lingered on Veptus, Azrael and Raskreia longer than the others.

“I have recently just finished a conversation with the First-Captain and all captains and their Command squads are to report to the flagship for briefing. And before any of you ask a certain pointless question: Yes, we are heading over to the Nightfall where I shall meet with our Father and the other captains while the rest of you try to behave yourselves is that understood?” Veptus chuckled softly through his psychopath’s smile.
“Crystal.” Was the only word he uttered. He was excited to see his Father, and curious to see if Bloody-Bones still prowled the depths of the Nightfall. Perhaps if this was to be Var’s end, Veptus could be loaned Mawdrym as an assistant to expedite Var’s pain. The Apothecary was totally insane, but he had his uses and that was one of them.

Xandrek’s crimson glare rested squarely on Var as he spoke his last sentence, as if daring the Techmarine to spite him on his Primarch’s own vessel. To add insult to injury, Xandrek barred Var from piloting the ‘Revenant’. Veptus grinned under his helmet at this fresh wound to the techmarine. At the Thunderhawk took off, Veptus savoured the volatile cocktail of emotions that seethed in its troop compartment. They hadn’t even reached the surface, and Veptus was already enjoying himself…

My contribution to the Renegades saga. Check it out

My growing IIIrd legion stuff:

17th Millenial (Homebrew Fluff) - "Children of the Emperor, death to his foes!" (Project Log)

Also my 30k tacticas, for those of you interested:

Crusade Army List tactica - Individual Legion tactica

Originally Posted by Angel of Blood View Post
And for two fucking grand, I could buy enough rum and hookers to 'artistically' recreate the better part of Pirates of the Caribbean.
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post #70 of 173 (permalink) Old 04-14-14, 01:44 PM
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I took the banner from Raskreia into my left hand and gripping my power sword in my right I turned to face the Warboss. He and he alone was my target, every other Ork was merely a formality in my path to my target. My every move was economical, slipping past and around the enemies in my path as often as I cut them down like the mad dogs they were. I had eyes only for the Warboss.

He carried a two-headed axe the size of a normal man clenched in his right fist and a lethal looking mechanical claw adorned his left. I watched as he swept his underlings aside, bellowing out a challenge and charging towards me. I almost laughed as I saw several of the Orks it knocked aside collapse, never to rise again, their bodies broken by the sheer strength the Warboss could bring to bear. I almost laughed. What stopped me was the sure knowledge that I could be broken just as easily if any of his blows made contact with me and the truth that he had not even meant to kill them and yet he had.

Grinning as it charged towards me the Warboss let out a throaty laugh and swung around, sending its axe carving through the air towards my left arm. The arm that carried the Standard of the Fourth Company.

I could not stop that power, could not have stopped it had I possessed twice my strength. There was more than just the strength of the Ork in the blow. There was height and sheer momentum. Had it connected, the blow would have sliced through my arm and my body in turn and caused the Standard to fall. Something I could not allow. While I yet lived, the Fourth Company Standard would fly and I would fight beneath it as I had for almost two-hundred years.

I stepped back, twisting out of the way of the axe blow and bringing my sword round in a scything blow aimed not at the Warboss but at the handle of his axe. The bastard was fast for his size though and evaded my slashing blow, tugging his axe out of my reach and lashing out with his claw at my head. I caught the claw with the haft of the flag and twisted it aside; Ripping the Standard free before the Ork could bring the fingers of the claw shut and snap the Standard in two gave me enough momentum to spin it and drive the sharpened butt towards his midriff. I moved with the speed of a striking viper and the pole slammed into where the sternum of a man would be, driving him back. But despite all my speed and all my strength I could not pierce that armour with the Standard. My sword's crackling blade could have cut through it but the Standard possessed no energy field wreathing it.

I pushed my advantage, driving him back with lightning fast blows. I caught a swing of his axe by slamming the Standard into the ground and ducking beneath it so that when his axe struck it rebounded and I was unshaken as all the force was transferred to the ground, allowing me to rise and thrust my sword forwards.

The blade drove through his lower left arm, glancing up slightly so that instead of lunging straight and true and cleaving through his bone it merely punched through the muscle, doing little damage to him.

Even an Ork took notice when a warrior he thought would be easy to beat wounded him however and the Warboss looked stunned. I stepped back and flicked the blood off my sword, sheathing it and bowing slightly before jamming the Standard in the dirt. The Ork roared at me, taking one ponderous step forward. I roared in response leaping the few metres between us and driving myself shoulder first into his midriff. I slipped under his right arm as he brought it round in an attempt to slam me down and I rolled around him, my sword slipping free of its sheath as I came out of it and I made a swift backswing at the Ork's heel that chopped into the weaker armour and through it in a blow that should have hamstringed it but beyond a roar and a slight stagger the Ork seemed unaffected.

He seemed to ignore me and move towards the Standard but I dived in front of him and planted my feet before the Standard. "You will not take this from me, not over my dead body." A roar was all that answered me.

I darted forward and lashed out not at the Ork's torso or head but at his right arm. My first cut was glanced away by his armour, my second lunge blocked by his claw. The Ork's right fist caught me in the chest and sent me staggering back almost to where the banner still rested in the dirt. Now the Ork pressed his advantage, trying to drive me back so that he could kill me and take the Standard for himself. I ducked to one side and thrust my sword to the gap between pauldron and the rest of the armour on his upper arm. The blow struck clean and true, plunging through and almost severing the Warboss' arm.

I ripped the sword free but despite the terrible wound the Warboss didn't even slow, bringing his let arm around and down into my shoulder, slamming me down into the floor. I tried to push myself up, my mind and vision blurry. There was a shout in the vox and I looked up to see the Warboss taking his axe in his claw hand and raising it to bring it crashing down on me.


I woke from my memories swiftly and without any ill effects, not even blinking or shaking my head to clear my mind from my lovely trip down memory lane.

I heard the clanking of power armoured feet and knew before I even turned that Xandrek was stalking towards us. Vandread also joined us and was leaning with his arms crossed against the Revenant. We moved into a rough semi-circle as Xandrek came to a halt in front of us. The Captain nodded to me, Raskreia and Veptus and he regarded Var coldly before finally speaking and mocking us as was his wont whenever he had the excuse.

“While you ladies have been seemingly day dreaming from what Sergeant Xhing tells me, we have translated from the warp into the Istvaan system with the rest of the fleet despite earlier warnings from our Librarians telling us that we would be early.” Xandrek began pacing back and forth. “I have recently just finished a conversation with the First-Captain and all captains and their Command squads are to report to the flagship for briefing. And before any of you ask a certain pointless question: Yes, we are heading over to the Nightfall where I shall meet with our Father and the other captains while the rest of you try to behave yourselves is that understood?” I nodded silently.

The Captain motioned to the interior of the ship and ascended the ramp with us all in tow, barring Var from piloting the ship and commanding Techmarine Malak to do so instead. I stayed silent during our flight.

We stand upon the precipice of change. The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment - and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly.
— Flemeth

The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.
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