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post #31 of 54 (permalink) Old 04-23-14, 04:49 PM
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Cato sat on the operating table, watching carefully as the Apothecary looked through his tests. Even as the ship came out of the Warp, protocol had to be observed. Cato could not be out training and fighting with his brothers, even after two months awake - it was a waste of resources. Cato felt himself becoming tense, so he closed his eyes and let his mind wander to calm himself.

Flashes of the duel that put him in suspended animation sprung, unbidden, in his thoughts. The daemon of the Blood God had singled him out, probably expecting a quick kill before moving on to his next victim. Cato remembered every stroke, every parry, every miss and every wound he sustained. The fight drew on longer, and longer, but still he persevered. Deeply enwrapped in his own memories now, Cato watched himself finally summon all his strength and crush the Herald with his psychic might, only allowing himself to collapse to the floor once the foul creature uttered its dying scream. Darkness clouded his vision as the tight hallways of the mining vessel faded from view, reinforcements finally making it aboard as an apothecary rushed to help Cato into his coma... and a figure, armoured head to foot in black, turned and walked away, just out of the corner of his eye...

"...and your Larraman count is satisfactory. I declare you fit for combat.”

Cato started, realising the Apothecary was speaking to him. He snapped open his eyes, looking up at the venerable healer. Cato stood, his mountainous features creasing into a smile.

"My thanks, brother. It will be good to - "

Cato was cut off by the warning klaxons. A frown crossed his face, while Apothecary Michael engaged in a brief vox transfer.

“You are report to the armoury. Your weapons and armour have been prepared in advance for you. Once you have collected them you are to report to Brotherhood Champion Jairus in the teleportation array.” Cato turned and his smile grew, flexing his muscles as he headed for the door. “No rest for the weary, eh Cato?”

Cato paused, turning back to the room that had been his home... no, his tomb, for the last nine weeks.

"Apothecary Michael, how can I rest when the Emperor's enemies do not?"

Cato ran down the hallway to the armoury, pushing past crew members who were making their way to battle-stations. The Grey Knights had already been mobilised, so Cato would need to hurry. An Mechanicum orderly stood by the armour racks, and there it was - his armour. The battle-scars had all been repaired and reinforced, the smooth surface spotless and polished with care. The golden eagle across the chestplate glistened, his black right shoulder-pad as forlorn as ever. Cato snapped out of his reverie, and motioned to the orderly.

"Quickly, now," he commanded, moving forward as the red-hooded man began armouring him. He moved with practiced ease as Cato transformed into a Knight once again, clad in the cold grey of the 666th Chapter. As the powerpack was connected the armour's systems came online. Cato reached and attached his helmet after the orderly had retreated to a respectful distance - after all, this choice was one left to each warrior. Finally, Cato turned to his weapons, mag-locking his grenade-belt and falchion sheathes to his waist, locking on his storm bolter to his left arm, before bringing his gauntleted hands down to the Nemesis Force Falchions, feeling their hilt before drawing them from their sheathes, whipping them around to feel their familiar weight once again. The armourers had removed the shackles from their hilts, but there was no time for that now. Cato turned and strode from the armoury: a Grey Knight once more.

***

Cato reached the teleportation bay just as bright light suffused it, the flash sending out an audible crack as a squad of Grey Knights was sent into the fray. Cato's blades were sheathed, but he itched to join battle with his foes. Cato bowed his head and made the sign of the Aquila before Jairus. He barely had time to hear that his old squad, or whatever was left of it, had already departed before a squad of Grey Knights entered. Jairus introduced them as his new brothers - Squad Dothrac, headed by Justicar Galahad.

Cato bowed his head and again made the sign of the Aquila before his new squadmates. He felt outwards gently with his mind, allowing himself to be absorbed into the squad's psychic communion. Feeling it prudent let the squad communicate to him with telepathy first, however, Cato introduced himself out loud.

"Greetings, brothers. I am Cato Marquand, declared fit for combat not minutes ago. I've spent the last eight months imprisoned by the good brother Michael in the Apothecarium," Cato chuckled, odd-sounding through his helmet's speakers, but endearing nonetheless. "I shouldn't joke, he has our best interests at heart, but I am eager to join battle after so long." Cato turned to Justicar Galahad.

"Brother Justicar, my psychic strengths are telekine, and my preferred weaponry a pair of falchions - I am at your disposal, I will fit into your squad's combat strategy in whichever way you deem best."

Cato felt a telepathic communication and welcomed it, his psychic senses matching body with voice - Talerion, his armour and halberd decorated with purity seals, and, as he indicated, purely grey. Now that his brothers had spoken telepathically first, Cato decided to return the courtesy, sending his thoughts to the squad.

+Well met, brother Talerion. Forgive me, I mean no offence with my black shoulder-pad. It reminds me of something of my past, very strongly, yet I still can't puzzle out why. Rest assured, I am a Grey Knight and will remain one until I die, no matter what heraldry I bear.+ Cato accompanied the message with a respectful nod in Talerion's direction, hoping this wouldn't be of too much concern.

(OOC: I'll post my combat after others have had a chance to say hello so I can reply!)

Give a man a match, and he's warm for a day.

Set a man on fire, and he's warm for the rest of his life!

Cato Marquand
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post #32 of 54 (permalink) Old 05-04-14, 02:41 PM
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After slaying the heretics that were in the reactor room of the ship Mordred listens to the announcement that the squads will be taking the fight to the chaos warships and that they should head to the nearest teleportation chamber. Mordred looks at Galahad and nods his head before setting off at near full speed with the rest of his squad following behind Galahad. Mordred’s lips twist into an ever so slightly smile under his helmet as he thinks to himself that it will be good to take the fight to traitors instead of waiting around for them to attack the ship and the Grey Knights. Running along with the rest of Squad Dothrac Mordred turns his attention to Brotherhood Champion Jarius and a second unknown Grey Knight standing infront of the bulkhead leading into the teleportation array.

Nodding his head to the new comer to the squad Mordred skids to a halt in the middle of the teleportation array and does some last moment checks on his armour and weapons before disconnecting the remaining wreckage of his Stormbolter and throwing it away before removing the ammo clips that he had spare and almost never used, handing them out to all of his brothers in Squad Dothrac and the new comer who he now knew as Cato who joined in with the squad’s psychic choir. As Mordred felt the signs of teleportation soon to be commencing he took his sword handle in both hands and closes his eyes focusing his mind as he prepared to be hurled with the rest of his squad through the warp and onto the enemy ship, having experienced it before he found it best to have his eyes closed until he felt his feet touch steel decking again to help reduce to the affects of teleportation.

Opening his eyes Mordred gave himself a couple of moments to take in the devastation that comes with what happens when a squad of Grey Knights teleports into a confined space, looking at the buckled walls and crumpled bodies of the crew members that were there. Taking two steps forward Mordred didn’t need any orders from Galahad to know what needed to be done as he entered into a run somewhere between a jog and a sprint with his force sword gripped in his two hands still as he headed towards a group of four crew members that were pulling themselves up and pulling out small side arms that would not affect his armour integrity aswell. Leaning toward Mordred brought his blade crushing down from an overhead swing as he activated his blades energy field and sliced a crew member clean in two from shoulder to hip before pivoting on his left heel to remove the legs out from under a second one from the mid thighs de-activating the energy field at the same time to leave the crew member to die from trauma and blood loss.

Stepping over the bodies of the first two crew members that Mordred had killed he sets his sights on the third and fourth as the rest of Dothrac continue their killings, flinging out his left hand he gripped one crew member by the head with his hand wrapping almost completely around the front of the mans face before slamming his head into the side of the wall with a sickening wet thud before letting go and allowing the completely limp body to drop to the floor as Mordred then lifted his sword up in one hand and allowed his to rest over his right shoulder as he brought the front of his helmet down onto the forehead of the final crew member infront of him caving in the heretics face and snapping his neck in the process.

Wiping the blood from his faceplate with the back of his left hand Mordred then turned from his kills and set off to join Galahad and the rest of Dothrac on their way up to the bridge where they had been ordered to go and take over the ship by killing those there, all the time he was doing this Mordred kept an eye on the new member of Dothrac to see what his fighting style was like with his choice of weapons.
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post #33 of 54 (permalink) Old 05-17-14, 08:58 PM Thread Starter
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All: Apparently the effects of teleportation affect some of you more than others. Because of this, several heretics do not die. Some think that their lives are best spent slowing your blades by any measure they can. Others sprint down multiple hallways, mostly out of self-preservation, but several will quickly alert others to you presence. As it stands, the chaos of battle has probably masked your approach, or at least your position on the ship. You objective is more complicated now. The longer you wait to take the bridge, the more likelihood there is of them finding you and turning the whole ship against you. But if you let the stragglers run, that might happen anyway.

Galahad: You feel the warp clinging to you for longer than it should as you are teleported, no doubt some machination of the enemy. You feel the plating of the ship under your feet, but your eyes are momentarily blinded by the kaleidoscope of anti-colour. Your shake it off with a psychic exertion and find that your squad is performing quite admirable without direction. However, the four you could have killed realise the fate of their fellows and quickly turn and run. You gun down two with your storm bolter, but the other two make it far enough to turn the corner. You need to take the bridge, but you don’t know exactly where the bridge is or the quickest route. In this moment a sending would be best, but perhaps you feel there isn’t time and you’d rather get moving. The squad awaits your command.

Talerion: You see Auril falter as he is teleported in. Either something has happened with his suit or some malady of this ship is affecting him, which would not be the first time such a thing has happened. Unfortunately, the crew which were closest to him seem to be responding faster than they should, no doubt similar machinations of the Dark Gods you fight, or perhaps their lesser servants. There are another four scrambling for their weapons and heavy bolt-cutters to try and find something to penetrate your holy ceremite forms. Put them down and help Auril to his feet, perhaps shielding him from the first of the las rounds his attackers will be able to fire before you are among them. By the time you have finished them off, no doubt Galahad will have further instructions for you.

Auril: See the pervious update and respond to this one appropriately.

Mordred: Several of members of the squad seem to be struggling with the teleportation. You notice Cato and Auril being uneasy on their feet, as well as Galahad. Some men brandishing welding equipment, who were thrown against the rear bulkhead, start to right themselves and make a move towards you, their blow-torches glaring in the dim light of the corridor you have appeared in. If they get past you, they could make it too a couple of the more disorientated members of the squad, their welding equipment potentially able to breach the Aegis. Kill them (there are another four) by which point Galahad should have more instructions for you.

Cato: The unused to the sensation of teleportation after so many months disorientates you slightly longer than most, although you still manage to slay about three heretics. The last decides better than trying to fight you, and turns on his heel and runs as fast as he can. Before you can gun him down, he turns a corner. You should probably inform Galahad and either chase him or wait for Galahad’s orders.


(Ok guys, this update is a bit shorter, just to give those who are lagging behind a chance to catch up so we can all keep this going. Santaire and HonorableMan have both said they have posts in the works, so I would appreciate if you could include this update in what you already have. From here there are a couple of paths you can take. You can let the stragglers run or you can hunt them down. You can perform a sending and recon ahead or just move as quickly as possible. Or you can split up and achieve multiple objectives at once. The choice is yours and I would like to let you guys have more freedom instead of me dictating everything you should be doing. If you do have questions, feel free to PM me, but hopefully we can have a good set of posts and get a bit more momentum to this RP.)

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

Quote:
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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 #34 of 54 (permalink) Old 05-19-14, 04:50 AM
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Auril sprinted down the corridor with Galahad, long strides carrying him far and heavy boots pounding on the deck. No sense wasting bolts on this... rabble... a blade would work far better.

He reached the barricade. He leapt. His sword flashed, and by the time he had landed there was another corpse collapsing. A powerful backstroke, and stinking bowels spewed out onto the floor; a careless coup de grace and a head rolled. A las-bolt ricocheted off of his war plate- he spun, and another heretic died.

One was left; Auril's hand flashed out, gauntleted fingers wrapping around the man's neck and pinning him to the bulkhead.

"May the Emperor spit on your soul." he growled, though the words never left his helm.

The fingers tightened with a series of wet cracks at the same time he eased the wide point of his sword up under the heretic's ribcage. He died quietly, eyes bulging in terror and pain. Too quick for such a person, but that was how it had to be.

The Astartes pulled his weapon free, at the same time opening his fingers and letting the body fall to the deck in an inelegant heap.

That would leave some twenty heretics somewhere in the ship- and the logical place for them to go would be the enginarium. Galahad voiced his orders but a moment later; Auril followed him, boots striking the deck heavily as they ran.

They came upon a firefight, valiant serfs fighting back against the heretic guardsmen. Galahad's orders were quick in coming. Saboteurs first.

It was difficult to sneak up on enemies in full battle-plate; nevertheless, the Grey Knight did his best. It seemed to work, at least as far as can be expected; he was five meters away when a heretic noticed him and opened his mouth to warn the others. Auril filled that mouth with the point of his sword; it punched out the back of the mortal's head and took off the top half of his skull.

The others were turning, but an Astartes, augmented and aided by an Aegis suit, was much, much faster. He swept low, scything the legs from beneath one of the heretics in a shower of gore; an upwards slash and he separated one into two pieces, from hip through collarbone. The last managed to get a few ill-aimed lasbolts off, but they cracked past the Grey Knight's shoulder plate, and barely a millisecond later the heretic's head was flying through the air.

Auril shook the blood free from his blade, bowed his head momentarily, and asked the God-Emperor for his blessing.

Ianus had taken care of the other three; Galahad and the rest were finishing the last of the heretics. Barely a moment later, the enginarium cleansed, Auril was following his Justicar to the teleportarium.

There were two more Knights waiting for them there- Jairus, the Brotherhood Champion, and another Astartes whose heraldry was unknown to Auril. The introductions were quick; Cato Marquand was to join Dothrac.

Auril returned the sign of the aquila; reaching out psychically, he made contact with Cato's mind, seeking to bring him into the squad-bond.

+I am Auril.+ he pulsed. That was all that needed to be sent. Stepping onto a teleporter pad, he waited for the rest of the squad. Once they had assembled, there was a whine of the teleporter activating-

-and then they were in the enemy ship. It was nauseating, almost overwhelmingly so, but Auril had faith in the God-Emperor and his augmentations. Unfortunately, it was netiher of those things that failed him; instead, it was his Aegis war-plate. The HUD was running on reserve power, the suit itself dead.

Auril didn't understand much about teleportation- that was for the Mechanicus and the techpriests. But he knew his battle-plate, and it looked- rather, felt- like the backpack connections had been scrambled. And the whine it was emitting meant it was overloading and would shut down to prevent a nuclear explosion, which would leave him utterly powerless.

He couldn't have that. But he was blind inside the helm; closing his physical eyes and opening his psychic ones, the Grey Knight focused on his backpack connection. There- the cables hadn't been properly reassembled by the teleport. They were hanging loose, unconnected.

With a grunt of effort, the Astartes reached back; war-plate weighed heavily on his arm, but he got there. Leaden fingers fumbled with the jacks; catching hold of one, he managed to plug it in. The last was a bit of a stretch.

He was very, very cognizant of Talerion defending him from the enemy; there would have to be much penance done. In the meantime-

-the cable went in, and Auril's helmet went live, eye-lenses blazing a bright blue. He could see; withdrawing his psychic senses back inside his skull, the Grey Knight struggled to his feet with Talerion's help, as power began to flood through the suit's pseudo-musculature. His Nemesis sword was still dangling loosely from his hand; scowling in displeasure, Auril clenched his fist over the hilt, pressing down the activation rune and sending arcs of blue lightning coursing across the blade.

+My thanks, brother.+ he pulsed.

"You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honorable man."
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post #35 of 54 (permalink) Old 05-26-14, 02:36 PM
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Mordred's helmet turns left and right taking in the condition of his brothers and notes that out of all of them himself and Talerion are the only ones not having been affected by the affects of teleporting across to the ship. Turning his head to the left he sees four crew members with welding torches heading towards his brothers who are still coming out of the affects of teleportation and in order to protect them Mordred charges forward with his sword gripped in both hands. Stepping infront of the first one Mordred brings his blade down cleaving the crew member from shoulder to hip as he moves past not bothering to watch the man expire from blood loss and having been sheared in two.

Moving to the next one Mordred utters a low growl that leaves the vox on his helmet as the man turns in time to send the welding torch leaving a scorch mark across his chest-plate and thanks his armour's spirit that the armour itself was not damage as he impales the man down the full length of his blade before ripping it out through one side spilling his organs across the floor as Mordred then slams left pauldron first into the third crew member slamming him against the wall with a sickening crack of shattering his rib-cage and crushing organs.

Turning towards the fourth and final crew member as he approaches Galahad from behind Mordred throws his sword like a javelin and spears the man through the side of the neck almost removing his head completely due to how wide the blade of his sword is. Striding up to Galahad Mordred nods to his Justicar as he retrieves his sword and wipes it clean on the overalls of the fourth and final crew member that he had just killed and watches his brothers finish off those crew that were trying to attack them.

Turning to look down the corridor Mordred frowns as he sees several of those crew who had not been killed by the affects of the teleportation or by his brothers running off down the corridor to obviously either flee for their lives or alert their masters that a squad of Astartes have teleported onboard the ship and are killing their way to the crew. Opening his mind up to the squad psychic choir Mordred sends a mental message to Galahad as he begins to set off down the corridor after those crew that had gotten away. +"Brother-Justicar, I shall finish off these scum who are trying to flee and then meet up with you and the rest of the on your way to the bridge, it will only take me four minutes at best to hunt these worms down and dispatch them. Good hunting my brothers, I shall meet you shortly."+

With that Mordred bounds off down the corridor after those crew members that are trying to flee from him and his brothers and after a few corners he manages to catch sight of them running down the corridor towards an access hatch that will probably lead to their quarters and likely more crew members that would also need to be killed. What Mordred wasn't expecting when they charged through the access hatch and into the large room beyond as his sword flicked out taking the head from a fleeing crew member was to be confronted with the sight of hulking severely mutated Ogryn with the eight pointed star of chaos emblazoned on his chest. Mordred did not give the new threat time to register who he was fighting as he flicked his blade out to remove the mutants head he smiled lightly to himself: At least here was someone who might prove to be more of a challenge for his swordsmanship than weak-willed and frail mortals but he would need to end this quickly as he knew how strong these sub-humans could be and how many wounds the could take before their limited minds realized their were dead.
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post #36 of 54 (permalink) Old 05-30-14, 05:05 AM
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*As they emerged from the teleport, Talerion was quick to glean what he could of their surroundings before taking note of Brother Auril. Something had befallen him during the jump. Seeing Auril brought to a knee and struggling with his Aegis Armor, Talerion leapt, landing in a crouch next to Auril, his left arm raised, storm bolter shouting in report, tearing into the gathering Traitor Guard that sought to impede them. A pink hued transparent dome seemed to encase Auril, the psychokinetic energies swirling and washing over the dome with splashes of bright white and crackled with energy, hissing as it absorbed and deflected blasts from lasguns and bolt cutters.

As Auril finished his field repairs on his Aegis armor, Talerion, quickly allowed the dome to encase himself as well, as the dome spread larger, the concentration of the pink and white energies seemed to fade, becoming a little clearer, more transparent and the hum of energy lessened. There was only so long and so much that Talerion could muster for such a barrier before he needed to gather his energies again. As Auril got to his feet Talerion nodded "Glad to have you back in the fight Brother Auril," slapping his compatriot on the left pauldron with his right gauntleted hand.

Talerion immediately set out to a small band of Traitors who had taken a semi-covered position, consisting of any scraps of metal they could find to form a makeshift barrier for themselves. The Grey Knight merely cut through the inferior metal with ease with his Force Halberd, the weapon was brought across in a deft slash and unceremoniously bisected three men just above the waist. A fourth was shot with his storm bolter as he tried to flee.

Talerion, seeing his brother in arms Mordred take off after the escaping Traitors decides to charge after his fellow bladesmith. Closing the distance to Mordred through the halls he communicates psychically with the swordsman +-Mordred, we shall clear these sectors together, we should not allow ourselves to be separated or spread so thin aboard this Warp Cursed ship-+. He relays his intentions to the Justicar as he sprints after Mordred. "Brother Justicar, I will seek after Mordred and ensure that we are not spread too thin. We shall reunite with you to take the bridge!"
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post #37 of 54 (permalink) Old 06-07-14, 09:46 AM
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I led Dothrac to the teleportation chambers, passing serfs and servitors evidently bound for the hull breaches with the repair equipment they carried and the flamers no doubt intended to be used to purge the filthy taint from the Holy Wrath. Pounding into the Teleportium brought me face to face with Jairus and another marine I did not recognise, though my mind instinctively reached out to him and caught snatches of his surface thoughts and a name. Cato.

“Right on time Dothrac!” Jairus said elatedly. “Cato, this is Squad Dothrac and their Justicar Galahad. They will be your new squad brothers!” The ship rocked from another powerful broadside and Jairus continued. “Sadly there is no time for formal introductions. Your introductions will have to be conducted in the crucible of war. Magos, are we ready?” The affirmative was spoken in a voice as warm as polished steel. “You will take a vessel named Light of Hope. You should be teleported close to the bridge. Take control of that, and the rest should fall. The Emperor protects!”

’Welcome Cato’ I sent just moments before the crackling energies of the teleport surrounded us and we were sent through the Warp.

A teleport was normally a simple enough action but this time the Warp clung to me even after we arrived, crackling over the plates of my armour and blinding me momentarily with the kaleidoscope of anti-colour. A brief mental exertion sent the strands back into the pit of hell from whence they came and gave me time to survey the situation. The squad was performing well enough without my direction but more than just I had been affected negatively by the jump through the Warp and several heretics were escaping our clutches. Four in particular caught my eye.

I planted my Warding Stave in the deck plating and raised my left arm, watching as the targeting sensors in my helmet flashed to indicate a hit. My first bullet took the trailing man’s left leg off at the knee, my second pulped his right hip and my third caught his descending head and popped it like an overripe melon. I switched targets, again taking aim. I let off a burst of fire that turned the man’s ribcage and organs into mincemeat, sending his mutilated corpse hurtling forward. Just before the third and fourth turned a corner I let off a slew of automatic fire, but apparently the Chaos Gods liked the two men and not a single shot hit them.

Mordred turned to me and held his sword as if to throw it. I didn’t hesitate and turned to see what he aimed at and his sword lanced over my shoulder like a javelin and caught the man who had been sneaking up behind me in the side of the neck, almost severing the man’s head entirely. Spasming, the corpse fell to the deck and Mordred strode over to wrench his sword free, nodding to me as he did so. Then my brother turned and glanced after the fleeing heretics with a thoughtful gaze. I began to curse, to reach out to hold him back.

But Mordred ever was one for hasty decisions.

+"Brother-Justicar, I shall finish off these scum who are trying to flee and then meet up with you and the rest of the on your way to the bridge, it will only take me four minutes at best to hunt these worms down and dispatch them. Good hunting my brothers, I shall meet you shortly."+ With that, Mordred bounded away after the fleeing men and guess who decided to follow him. With merely a glance Talerion followed Mordred, dashing after the older marine. His own words, excusing his actions, were just as annoying as Mordred’s albeit better founded. "Brother Justicar, I will seek after Mordred and ensure that we are not spread too thin. We shall reunite with you to take the bridge!"

“Why is it,” I cursed aloud, “that I am saddled with a squad full of hotheads who think they can take on an entire Chaos ship?” I noted the mental status of several of the squad members who had remained with me and added something else quickly. “That was a rhetorical question.”

“Brothers,” I said to those gathered with me. “I need you to watch this area and take down anything that comes anywhere near us. I am going to perform a sending and I need you to watch my back while I do so. I’m counting on you brothers, do not let me down.” With that I got into a meditative position on the floor, legs crossed and hands resting on my knees. I shut my eyes and opened my mind and the world exploded.

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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post #38 of 54 (permalink) Old 06-08-14, 11:43 PM Thread Starter
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The captain of Light of Hope had been dead for the best part of 72 hours. When Corphelus had declared independence from the oppressive Imperium of Man with the support of their new masters, the bearers of the word of chaos and power, the captain of Light of Hope had been murdered by his first mate, a man called Halvdan Gul. Now Captain Gul, as he insisted on being called, sat in the command throne. There was still a smear of blood leading from the throne where the serfs had dragged his commanders body to the nearest airlock. Surprisingly this did not bother Captain Gul. What did bother him was the black sword of a ship that had appeared from the warp with no identification codes and seemed to be content to tear into his comrade ships. The Imperium did not even know about this rebellion, surely this was not an imperial vessel. But if it was, this represented a far greater ship.

“Captain Gul…” said the Boatswain in a voice that indicated he was still resentful of Gul’s favour, but he didn’t pull the man up on it. “…something indicates a disturbance on the lower decks. Integrity of the hull damaged and apparently several serfs are dead.”
“Mutiny.” Gul spat. Clearly some loyalist members of the ship had escaped the cull and intended to damage the ship from the inside.
“My brother will take care of those traitors to the Word.” Said one of the figures which lurked in the shadows. That was another thing that made Gul uncomfortable. These giants set his teeth on edge, and their terrible shadow seemed to be infecting the ship. Less and less he was able to walk around the ship without feeling their essence crawling under his skin. Still, he daren’t challenge them, even on his ship.
“As you say my lords.” Gul was sure it was enough to put the mutiny down and he turned his attention to the void battle going on.

All: The battle aboard Light of Hopewill be over soon, exactly as Brotherhood Champion Jairus hoped. However, with these closing battle comes some dark revelations. The presence of traitor Astartes poses a far greater threat, both to your squad and to the campaign as a whole. As you encounter bitter enemies your minds may focus on your hate for them, what they represent and what they stole from you aboard that fated space hulk, Darkest of Days. Finish your mission, that should be your first priority.

Galahad: The remaining three members of your squad are the first minds you feel as you expand your mind and conduct The Sending. You feel other, lesser minds approach the epicentre of your Sending and then disappear as your brothers deal with them. Further afield you feel Mordred and Talerion and other minds there. You also feel a mind far more tainted than the rest, and more like yours. That might concern you. Quickly though you find the bridge and the path that will lead you there swiftest; the second left of the corridor to your right leads to a staircase which will take you up two levels. You then take a right, up another staircase and then follow the corridor to the left of the staircase which will lead your straight to bridge. What disturbs you though is the two minds you feel alongside the humans in the bridge. If the pervious brush with the post-human mind didn’t disturb you, this will. These are definitely Astartes souls, rotten to the core with corruption.

Your mission of establishing a route to the bridge complete, you retreat your consciousness into your own body. As you come up from your meditative position, you see Auril, Cato and Ianus finishing off the last of the traitors that tried to take advantage of your prone position. You should brief them on your discovered route but also on the nature of foe you face. You lead the way down the corridor and make your way to the bridge, cutting down all who oppose you. As you burst through, you see the traitorous Astartes you sensed. You also notice their warband signal; The Forsworn, the same warband your fought on Darkest of Days. The one that come to face you and Auril face is a warped creature with a cracking power maul and a bolt pistol. Work with him to slay this most vile heretic and slaughter the bridge crew.

Talerion: You keep up just behind Mordred as he makes his way through the tainted halls of this ship. Along the way you see Mordred quickly dispatch a tainted Ogryn whilst you slaughter the crew that huddled in corners, hoping their brutish bodyguard would protect them. You continue to chase crew through the halls before Mordred abruptly stops and keeps you back with an outstretched arm, preventing you from walking straight into a plasma-bolt. You smell the burning and melting or ceremite and you understand just how close Mordred and you came to being vaporised.

Before you can give it much thought, a corrupted Space marine with a plasma pistol and a claw for his left arm barrels round the corner, howling curses at you. Mordred blocks a swing from the Marine’s claw and you spot it’s warband iconography; The Forsworn, the same warband you fought on Darkest of Days. It is almost hard to believe that so soon after taking your Justicar and battle brother from you that you would face them again. You see the traitor motion to fire his plasma pistol again and you turn the bolt aside with a psychokinetic shield. Incensed at your interruption, it turns to face your holy Nemesis Force Halberd with it’s corrupt, mutated claw. In between your traded blows, Mordred takes off the front portion of the heretic’s helmet. Horribly, you recognise this heretic. Slay this heretic with Mordred and then make your way to the bridge. Despite what this traitor’s presence means, you have a mission to accomplish.

Auril: Galahad adopts a meditative position on the floor and you feel his consciousness expand due to your mental connection. You hold your Nemesis Force Weapon and at a ready position. For several long moments nothing happens, but quickly some of those heretics you allowed to escape come back with friends. There are about 10 of them and they are armed with a mixture of combat blades, las-pistols, lasguns and stubbers. Ianus and Cato will either hold position with you or move with you if you tell them to. You can stay back and dispatch them with bolt, grenade, and holy flame, or close the distance and bloody your sword.

As the last of them falls to either your bolts or your blade Galahad stands up and addresses you all. He informs you of the quickest route to the bridge. However, that is not what sets his voice and his mind on edge. He informs you that there are Chaos Space Marines on board. You all set down the closest corridor and follow Galahad’s lead, cutting down and serfs that oppose you with contemptuous flicks of your sword, curt bolt rounds and gouts of flames. You arrive to the bridge in a matter of moments. As you burst through, you see the Space Marines Galahad felt. You also notice their warband signal; The Forsworn, the same warband you fought on Darkest of Days. The one you and Galahad face is a warped creature with a cracking power maul and a bolt pistol. Work with your justicar to slay this most vile heretic and slaughter the bridge crew.

Mordred: As your chase the crew through the dim hallways, you keep your precognitive senses alert. You can see a ghost version of yourself moments ahead of you, taking hits you avoid. What stops you is when your ghost-self is vaporised from the waist up. You stop yourself just short of a corner, blocking Talerion from befalling the same fate you saw, and watch glowing bolt of plasma miss you by such a small margin it blackens the paint on your chest-plate. Barrelling round the corner is a brute of a Space Marine with a plasma pistol in one hand and a chitinous claw in place of his left hand.

Your Nemesis Force Sword comes up and deflects the sweeping strike of the corrupted Astarte’s claw. The Space Marine brings up his pistol to fire again, only for the bolt of superheated gas to be deflected by a psychokinetic shield conjured up by Talerion. The Astarte turns to face this new threat, you see the blasphemous symbol emblazoned on his shoulder; the mark of the Forsworn, the same warband you fought on Darkest of Days. Your Nemesis Force Sword swings up, narrowly missing striking a fatal blow against the traitor. It does however take off the front of his helmet, and the Astarte hastily removes the rest of it. Horrifyingly, you recognise his face. Slay this heretic with Talerion and then make your way to the bridge. Despite what this traitor’s presence means, you have a mission to accomplish.

Cato: You have yet to post for the last update. If you could I’d be great. For this update, assist Auril.

(Finally you get to fight some enemies which actually pose a threat to you. Your righteous souls, hexegramic wards and skill at arms will likely wrong-foot your foes, but your fights should reflect that these are still deadly opponents.

A note particularly to Mordred and Talerion, but it is relevant to all of you, the space hulk Darkest of Days was destroyed after you recovered the information the Mechanicus wanted, and the Foresworn aboard were presumed destroyed as well. However, here your fight one of their members whom you recognise. How deeply you choose to dwell on what that means is up to you. You may decide it is of little significance, or the thought that those who killed your brothers have not tasted justice could full you with the deepest rage. Hope you enjoy the update!)


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

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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 #39 of 54 (permalink) Old 06-13-14, 05:52 AM
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Racing, nearly haphazardly down the halls in an effort to keep pace with Mordred who had taken off with the best of intentions to pursue the few Traitor crewmen that had escaped their initial assault after they breached the Heretic ship. Talerion caught up with Mordered as his Brother was making quick work of a Traitor Ogryn, the brute looked even more deformed than a normal soldier of his ilk, he bore minor mutations that gave him even more animalistic features, and more disturbingly marks of Chaos had been etched or burned into his flesh in several places. When Mordred summarily took the Ogryn down and decapitated the creature, it's blood ran darker than it ought to, to the core the Ogryn had been corrupted. Much like the beast put down by Mordred, the further they press into the Light of Hope the deeper and darker the corruption seemed to sink, tainting the ship itself with an aura of malevolence.

As Mordred took care of the Ogryn, Talerion made use of his Force Halberd and spilled the blood of the Traitor Guard who had taken up positions in the shadows, hoping their brutish champion would be sufficient to delay or even kill the Astartes who had pursued them. A blue white flicker of the blade was the last thing the handful of Traitors would see before being vanquished from this world. Talerion took their lives as quickly as possible, there was no reason to take any more time than absolutely necessary, and a few deft slashes and thrusts with the Halberd and the once loyal Guardsmen were dead in a heap.

With a simple nod to his Brother they were again moving, Mordred taking the lead as the rushed through the corridors seeking out the bridge. As they rounded a corner Mordred's right arm suddenly shot out signalling for Talerion to stop. His momentum carried him forward still, skidding to a stop, Mordred's arm tensed and pushed back against the inertia of Talerion with such force that he caused his Brother to skid backwards almost two meters. The hiss and crackle in the air was unmistakable though, as was the white hot blue heat that rocketed just inches from them, the purity seal on Talerion's chest was singed from the heat of plasma burst, paint in the hallway peeled and disappeared entirely. There then came thudding steps, not unlike their own...-*An Astartes?...*- Talerion communicated his thoughts with his Brother, but his question was answered as around the corner, lambasting them with threats and curses stormed a once Battle Brother, a warrior of disdain beyond even the Traitor Guard. A Warp cursed Traitor Astartes of the Forsworn, adorned in deep, crimson red and silver livery, a plasma pistol in his right hand and a lightning claw...No, rather it was a mutated and disfigured melding of a lightning claw and the Astartes' own hand, a grotesque reptilian look to the skin that had melded with the flickering blades that were the fingers of its left hand.

Immediately the Forsworn Marine closed the distance to Mordred, the closer of the two Grey Knights, the Forsworn brought up his wicked looking claw in a slashing motion, the dark energies that leaped across the clawed fingers was adeptly met by Mordred's Nemesis Force Sword, the blade's own blue and white energies clashing with the dark and vile powers that emanated from the grotesque claw hand. Twisting his hand free the Forsworn attempted another attack, this time he raked downwards at Mordred, attempting to shear through his abdominal armor, repelled a second time, the Forsworn brought up his right hand the blue glow of the plasma pistol a clear sign of his intent. At such short range, even a Battle Brother as skilled as Mordred would find himself in trouble. As the burst of plasma tore free of the muzzle, the crackle and his of the super charged, and super heated gas echoed in the hall, a sudden flash erupted in front of Mordred in the form of a half dome, the wash of pink and white was strong and highly concentrated, Talerion pushed himself this time, at such short range he had needed to focus his energies completely to ensure that the blast did not penetrate the psykokinetic shield. The plasma burst fizzled on impact, the blue fires dissipating in the air. Talerion knew he would need a little time before he would be able to call upon such a potent kinetic shield again, but was given no time to completely take up position next to Mordred as the Forsworn lunged at him, slashing and tearing with his mutated claw. Talerion used his Halberd to great effect, utilizing his reach advantage and keeping the Traitor Marine just out of range. As the Forsworn lunged once again Talerion extended his Halberd forward, and rolling the weapon in a counter clockwise motion steered the Forsworn's arm off to his left, bringing the Halberd back around, completing the circle so to speak, he lunged forward himself, driving the Halberd into the exposed gap between the left paldron and chest plate of the Forsworn's armor, pinning him back, the Force Halberd cutting into the Traitor's shoulder joint, and digging into the tainted and rotted flesh beneath it.

In that moment Mordred lunged back into action, bringing his Nemesis Force Sword in an upward strike, seemingly perfectly placed, somehow the Forsworn managed to move his head back just enough, still the blade took off the front portion of the Traitor's helmet. The scarred and ravaged face of the Traitor beneath the helmet was none other than that of the Heretic who had driven his lightning claws through Brother Inoe's throat and laughed as Talerion's sworn Battle Brother had died at his feet. Stunned for a moment, Talerion's pressure on the Halberd loosened, the Forsworn took his chance to tear himself free, blood spurting from his wounded shoulder, a fresh, but faint wound running up the left side of his face courtesy of Brother Mordred. As he tore himself free, he took a jump back and holstered his plasma pistol, drawing a chainsword from his waist "You welps! You dogs to the False Emperor! I'll skin you both alive, eat your hearts and spit out your bones! I'll gladly tear you apart with my hand and my blade!" There was no jest in the Traitor's tone, if he had the chance he truly would make good on all of his threats, and his mutation showed that he quite possibly had strength beyond that of even a normal Astartes. But there were two expert bladesmen that he had to contend with. Talerion formed up next to his Battle Brother and gave a quick nod to Mordred -*We can take him, but we'll have to work together Brother!*-
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post #40 of 54 (permalink) Old 06-16-14, 03:09 AM
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Auril was wrathful, filled with righteous fury- the capricious tides of the warp had deprived him of the opportunity to castigate the heretics. No matter- there would be more. There were always more.

Galahad stated his intent- a Sending. Dothrac was to watch over their justicar; Auril strode over to stand in front of him, blade at the ready. It was not long before more heretics showed their filthy faces; ten, ten humans, carrying assorted las-weaponry and stub guns, along with rusted, bloody edged weapons and bludgeons.

Their faces lacked any and all reason, twisted flesh-masks of hatred and ruinous devotion. Their eyes bespoke a madness within them... a madness that the Emperor required extinguished.

Auril took two steps forward, angling his blade downwards; the filth was charging, las-weapons sparking and stub-guns howling. An Astartes warrior was a big target- their fire plinked off the ceramite and adamantium girding his flesh and soul. These bastards deserved nothing less than to be tossed into whatever hell awaited them, and Auril was happy to oblige.

+Brothers. Stay back.+

One more step. The first heretic reached him, crazed eyes staring up into the blue of his helm's lenses, butcher's cleaver raised high.

The thrust was strong, powerful, an explosion of fury along the Grey Knight's arm; the fat point of his Nemesis blade entered the heretic's abdomen, angled upwards. It burst free from the back of his neck, threads of gore exploding from the wound. Auril compressed every ounce of his wrath, gritting his teeth and forcing the anger into psychic form. His sword blazed blue, the light wavering for a fraction of a second- and then the flames burst forth from the weapon's hilt and washed up the blade.

The heretic's body caught flame, incinerated within a moment; the blast of azure fire caught the rest of the enemies, and they too burst into flame. Several screamed, dropping weapons; there were a series of cracks as skulls popped, bones cracked, and flesh began to melt, and then the screams stopped. Charred corpses hit the deck.

Auril flicked the ash from his sword, the silver-flecked iron clean as ever, and then stepped back.

A moment later, Galahad stood, unfolding from his meditative position. His sending had been a success- he told Dothrac of the quickest route to the bridge, but also the enemies that they would be facing. Chaos Marines. Traitor Astartes. The fallen.

Auril scowled inside his helm. Traitors. Again. This would be a challenge- but one that he would savor. The Emperor's light would show the way and guide the Grey Knights to victory.

He followed Galahad, exterminating all those they came across; slaves, servitors, it mattered not. They had been tainted, and they would all be purged. Cursory thrusts of his sword, backhanded blows, bursts of psychic fire; all served their purpose equally well. They left heretics in pieces in their wake.

Before long they arrived at the bridge. There they were- traitor Astartes, bearing the mark of the Forsworn, the same cursed filth that had killed Auril's brethren on the Darkest of Days. One in particular stood tall, a power maul clutched in one twisted hand, a bolt pistol in the other.

For the first time this day, Auril raised his left hand. This was an enemy worth the bolts.

The stuttering roar of the storm bolter mounted on his gauntlet sounded out loud as the Grey Knight clenched his fist; bolts struck the traitor's armor, skidded off the curved surfaces, left smears of metal in their wake as they detonated in the air. The pressure alone killed several menial servitors hooked to the instruments, but their deaths were not those Auril strove for; he growled and strode forward, directing his stream of fire at the traitor's armpits and abdomen, places where hopefully they'd penetrate and explode.

It was not to be. The traitor's power maul swept up, knocking several bolts away; at the same time, his pistol barked. A precise shot- the high-caliber slug smashed into Auril's helm and knocked him back a pace, snapping his head back.

This would not be decided with bolts.

Auril swept in, sidestepping a maul-swing; his lightning-quick thrusts were in turn dodged. The first blow would most likely decide this match, but each warrior was fast and deadly- except the traitor had centuries upon centuries of experience, while Auril was newly-implanted.

+Justicar.+ he pulsed, knowing that the two of them could do this together.

"You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honorable man."
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