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post #21 of 60 (permalink) Old 02-24-16, 10:31 PM Thread Starter
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Elias and Tobias; Hauling Jacques into the outpost proper, the first thing you notice is the lack of personnel, either patrolling the outer wall or behind them. You don't dwell on that though, having to contend with keeping an eye and ear open for dangers. Moving towards the main building, you kick open the locked door and sweep in, again finding no one but having to ignore this growing issue in lueu of saving a squadmates life.

Getting Jacques on a table, one of you works to remove his webbing and jump suit while the other searches for medicea supplies to stem the blood flow and maybe painkillers. Your search turns up little, gauze and heavy wrappings but nothing to outright stop the blood or ease Jacques pain.

Before either of you gets a chance to do much else, a group of people burst through the main door, weapons raised and shouting. One look at the entire lot of them and its clear that they are all scared, possibly beyond reason.

[As the group came in, you both grabbed weapons. Its clear that none of them are thinking clearly and looks like any of them could start shooting at the slightest perceived provocation. What do you try to do? The boom of an explosion will ultimately forestall any shooting as the windows blow out and everyone hits the ground.]

Liam and Thede; Clutching your carbines tightly, you and two others carefully approach the door of the main building, hearing someone or something curse from within the building. With a surge of courage, or anger, you burst through the door with guns raised. Inside you see two dark clad figures next to a table.

As you shout for them to back away and put their weapons down, you get a glimpse at something moving from behind them on the table. Is that a person? Are they responsible for no one being around?

[Willing to bet you can guess who it is you've found here.]

Robickai, Gallan, Krassus, and LaVeer; Taking to the walls, most of you fire wildly at the orks below. Your carbine las-blasts do more to the ground than the aliens, a slew of rounds from Dom's heavy stubber peppering one of the smaller orks and the bigger one but doing little more.

Return fire proves equally ineffective from the orks, until one of them sprays a wall of fire towards you, engulfing two troopers and catching Gallan's arm. All three fall from the wall, desperate to try extinguish the flames. LaVeer and others jump down to help while a lucky shot from Robickai hits a flamethrower canister, igniting the volitile liquid and turning the ork into a living bomb.

The resulting explosion blows open the gate in a shower of stone and armaplas, flooring anyone on the ground and leaving those left on the walls to protect everyone below while the big ork bellows to its fellows. "Doors open boyz, 'ave at 'em!"

[Where are you when the gate blows open? How do you recover? Can you extinguish the flames on Gallan before they spread from his arm?]

Theodoricus; Your throw flies true, the ork pilots head smashing into the nobs back, making the greenskin stumble forward a step. The beast looks back, beady eyes locking on your running form and a wicked grin spreads across the creatures face. Growling something at the orks around it, three charge towards you just before one of the other xenos, that one wielding a flamethrower, explodes from a lucky shot.

This, however, results in blowing open the gate that the humans had only minutes before managed to get closed. As the trio of orks get closer you hear the nob bellow out to the rest of its mob, "doors open boyz, 'ave at 'em!"

That is all you get to hear though, as your focus and rage shift to what is in front of you. Ducking the high swipe of a rusty cleaver, you barrel your shoulder into the ork holding the blade and throw it back before bringing your chainsword around to block the chop of an axe to your side. The roaring blades chew through crude metal and then flesh and bone, shearing the weapon at the haft along with a portion of the aliens fist. Before you can finish the thing off, the third ork slams a club into the back of your leg and forces you to backhand it with the butt of your pistol to regain some room.

[Ending these three will not occur without damage, but you will be able to dispatch them all. Hurry or the humans will be lost!]

Damnation is paved on good intentions; subtle and sugar coated or blunt and honest
A hero is someone who steps up when everyone else backs down.
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post #22 of 60 (permalink) Old 02-26-16, 02:00 PM
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With the assistance of some equally intelligent and quick thinking troopers LaVeer got the gates closed and let out a short sigh of relief as they locked in place. He let himself slump to the floor, sitting propped up against the gate as he tried to catch his breath and process the way his world had changed in the last few minutes. On the other side of this gate were Orks. Real Orks. Real horrifying green tide over the galaxy Orks. Right on the other side of the gate.

Jakon leapt up and scrambled away from the gate, raising his weapon towards it as if expecting it to crumble to dust at any moment. He shook his head. The gates would hold, he was sure of that. The Orks were still out there though. He heard weapons fire above him. It seemed now that they were out of open ground they could give these monsters a fight. Jakon felt a rush of righteous fervour flow through him and charged up the steps onto the outpost walls, picturing all the Orks he would gun down, out of reach of their tree trunk arms and giant blood stained cleavers.

He found the rest of the survivors who had come this way and took his place amongst them. Standing tall rested the stock of his carbine against his shoulder and raised the weapon to eye level, just as they had been taught on the firing ranges. He chose a target, lined up his shot.

The Orks fired back. Solid slugs fired from crude guns peppered the walls. The sound drained every drop of righteous fervour from Jakon's body and he dropped down behind the wall. This was nothing like the firing ranges. The firing ranges never shot back. He could still die here. Just as easily as he could have outside the gate. It would only take one shot. Just one shot from that hail of fire to hit him right and it was all over. But the fire wouldn't stop if they didn't drive the Orks off.

LaVeer's first shots were fired blind, the gun raised over his head, pointed over the wall and fired behind him. He had no idea whether he had hit anything though from the continual weight of returning fire it was clear he hadn't killed them all. Summoning what courage he could he pushed himself to his feet and looked over the wall just long enough to snap off another shot and see the scorch mark it left on the ground before hiding from return fire again.

This wouldn't work. It was clearly hopeless, unless. Jakon unhooked a grenade from his belt and held it in front of him. That could do it. How many could he kill with this one little grenade? A dozen? More? But the explosion could take out the gates, or at least weaken them. The gates wouldn't hold forever though anyway and Jakon didn't think these Orks were the giving up types. So he decided he would do it. This would be his moment. The tough decision that would save them all.

Jakon felt the prickle of intense heat over the top of his head and two men burst into flames with a third burning on the arm. They all fell from walls screaming, the nearest knocking the grenade from Jakon's hand as he flailed wildly. Jakon cursed the fool but leapt down afterwards. He would retrieve the grenade, just as soon as the troopers were no longer on fire.

"Drop and roll! Drop and roll!" LaVeer said, repeating the orders given to them by the drill sergeants in these circumstances. He looked around for something to use to douse the flames but nothing was forthcoming. Instead he tried to encourage the burning soldiers to roll with the sole of his boot, firmly nudging them for as long as he could withstand the heat.

There was an explosion behind him and Jakon was thrown to the ground, his weapon flying from his grip and sliding away on the hard floor. He landed on the burning solider he had been trying to help. He screamed as he scrambled off him and quickly beat out the flames catching on his legs.

Then he heard the voice of death.
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post #23 of 60 (permalink) Old 03-03-16, 12:07 AM
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How does one measure the life of a warrior?

I can almost feel the inscrutable glare of Reclusiarch Agamin’s skull-faced helm as the thought rises from the depths of my mind, the rictus grin of his dark deathmask an unshakeable reminder of our sacred duty. I feel his cold gaze as keenly as I feel the absence of my brothers. Like a wound that refuses to close, I cannot deny that their deaths have no effect upon me.

I see the greater xenos stumble, its head turning and alien eyes locking upon me. There is a malevolent intelligence in the gleam from its eyes, an intelligence that it has no right to possess. I feel my fists clench tight, my grip hardening around my weapons as the creature turns to its underlings and three of them break my way.

The humans are finally fighting back, their weapons pathetically ineffectual in the face of the xenos’ durability until a stray shot ignites the fuel from the flamethrower that one of the lesser orks carries. I feel my lips curl back in a snarl as the explosion destroys the one thing that is keeping the humans safe. Over the din of the flames, I hear the xenos’ leader roar encouragement to his lesser kin.

How does one measure the life of a warrior?

Look to that which he hates with every fiber of his soul. Look to that which he stands against with the last drop of blood in his veins and the last breath on his lips. Then you shall know the measure of a warrior.

I hate these xenos beyond doubt, beyond measure. I hate them for the very sin of their existence. My hate leaves room for nothing else.

It is the only thought upon my mind as I enter battle.

-

They were crude and lumbering, clad in a motley assortment of spiked leathers bearing rough markings that announced their allegiances to what amounted to brotherhoods within these xenos breeds. With a growl, Theo recognized the insignia for the orks that favoured all manner of vehicles; the faster the better. It was daubed onto the leather vest of the ork wielding a wickedly hooked axe, leather that had the distinct appearance of flayed human skin.

They carried a hodgepodge array of weapons, rusting blades and clubs with guns, easily as large caliber as astartes bolt weaponry, strapped and forgotten in their bloodlust at their sides.

Theo dropped his shoulder at the last second, a jagged xenos blade missing his skull by less than a hand’s width and the satisfying crunch of impact as his shoulder guard smashed into its owner coming less than a heartbeat latter. The blow staggered the ork from its footing, and an additional heave sent it stumbling backwards, thick arms wheeling and trinkets adorning its leather armour flailing madly.

Theo was in motion even before it fell, turning towards the next threat with his chainsword already rising to block the sweep of the crudely forged axe to his side. The impact was fierce, shaking the chain binding his chainsword to his armoured form as he gunned the blade into shrieking life. Sparks flew as the diamond-edged teeth chewed through the poorly tempered xenos alloys and into flesh and bone beyond. The ork roared and backed away as most of its fist disintegrated into shreds of wet flesh that peppered its comrades.

An impact to the back of his right leg spoiled Theo’s advance after the wounded ork. His armour was proof against the blow, though the impact left a dent and a haze of cracks in the ceramite. With a roar of his own, the young Templar backhanded the offending greenskin with the back of his pistol, sending the ork reeling to the ground with a fractured tusk and foul blood coursing from its split lip. Theo stomped down with bone crunching force, reducing its ribcage to fractured splinters and its heart to pulp.

It bought him no more than a heartbeat’s space as the first ork had regained its footing and launched itself at him with a howl, ropes of spittle trailing from its open maw and cleaver held in a brutal two-handed overhead chop. Theo did not even try to avoid the leaping xenos, instead he surged forward to meet it. Sparks cascaded in a brilliant arch as he met the rusting edge of the butcher’s blade with his growling chainsword, deflecting it to the side and taking the resulting gouging blow on his right shoulder guard. Black and white ceramite scattered away as the blade bit a chunk from the holy warplate.

Theo reached out with his gun hand, catching the ork in the back of the neck and crushing it towards him to close the gap until he was eye to eye with the foul xenos. The ork screamed its rage into Theo’s faceplate, flecks of spittle spraying from the bestial xenos’ open mouth and decorating the blood red lenses of Theo’s war helm. The young Templar ignored the raging xenos in his grip, turning and dragging the thrashing ork with him just as a staccato boom echoed out.

The ork in his grip jerked suddenly, its feral eyes going wide in sudden and violent pain as Theo felt an impact on his chestguard like a sledgehammer that rocked him back. The rusted blade clattered to the ground from the xenos’ now limp grip, its eyes locking with its own reflection in his eye lenses.

-

I know I am smiling as I watch the life fade from the greenskin’s eyes.

The way the pupils dilate wide at the last moment, that final realization that it has forever failed. The way the muscles in its body seize tight then release in finality. I savour it. The black ceramite of my war helm and blood red of my glowing lenses are the last things that it will ever see.

This is what I was forged for.

I push the corpse away, there is a hole big enough for me to put my fist into where its spine used to be and the front of my armour is dented, coated in blood and bone fragments. The last ork stares at me with its porcine features agape with surprise, smoking gun held in its one good hand and the bloody stump of its ruined hand still dripping its foul blood into the dust of this world.

I stalk forward, foul blood dripping down my front where it soaks into the tattered remains of my Surcoat.

Far too late it realizes the danger, trying to bring its gun to bear for a second shot. I bat it aside with a slap of my blade, the discharge blowing a crater into the sacred earth of this world.

It roars at me, screaming its hate at the top of its lungs.

I break off one of its jagged tusks as I feed it my pistol. I pull the trigger once and its skull disintegrates.

I know I should have ended it with my blade, conserved the precious ammunition, but the satisfaction of seeing its brainpan emptied across meters of open ground is a failing that I will willingly repent for later.

If I am to keep the oath that I have taken from my fallen brother, there is no time to linger. I turn from the falling body, sprinting into the rear ranks of orks pouring into the damaged fort with my growling blade already wet with orkish blood and seeking the group’s leader.

Cut off the head…
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post #24 of 60 (permalink) Old 03-08-16, 08:36 PM
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‘No one’s here…’ Tobias muttered to himself.

His footsteps practically echoed off of the ground, despite the pandemonium outside of this outpost.
They were in a hallway of sorts, leading to the main building ahead. It was only lit by the windows to either side of them. On one side was the barren landscape, and it was too dark to make out much detail if there was any. On the other side, the windows overlooked the outpost’s courtyard as he marched forward, weapon aimed.

Despite his bullpup glaring forwards, Tobias couldn’t keep his eyes off the soulless courtyard. It looked like there were stacks of empty supply crates in various places, a dimly lit comms station perhaps, and a couple of tall but currently dormant anti-aircraft towers. Across the ground below, he could see the eerily stretched shadows of Aegis quad-guns and interceptor las-cannons.

Behind him was something even more ghostly. His heart beat heavy when he turned around for the first time in minutes after leading the way forward.

A large, groaning figure that reeked of blood and engine fuel walked behind him, like a ghoul that was too big for its own frame. The shadows blended Jacques’ body into his brother’s. Jacques’ muffled agony was ceaseless. A trickled path of his blood was splatter-painted along the length of hallway behind Elias, glistening somewhat in the light from the windows, as his older sibling struggled with the weight in his arms.

‘No one’s here!’ He said this time, louder and actually to his brother.

'Because it looks like no one is here,' Elias groaned back. 'That doesn't mean it's true.'

An orange glare caught their eyes in the distance, beyond the main building. It lit up the edges and faded, but did not quite disappear. A couple of rumbling vibrations shook their way through them, after.

‘Maybe there just weren’t...many people here. I would have thought Prolial Prime would be all hands on deck, though.’

'People run, people hide, people die,'

With Elias’s staggered response, Tobias caught himself. This was no time to start a conversation. He realized, normally the others would be there. Someone would be helping Elias, someone would be watching the rear, and there would still be at least one more to speak with about the mission at large. He took a hand off of his lasgun for a moment to try the handle on the door in front of him. Locked.

Anger flared in him again. Flee from their homeworld…

He kicked the door with full force. The handle and hinges clanged but didn’t give in.

He put a hand on the butt of his shotgun but thought better of it, turning to Elias.

‘Think he’ll live if you set him down for a moment?’

'Perhaps,' Elias said, examining the door. 'Perhaps not. We have to get through, either way.'

Elias adjusted his weight, and lowered Jacques gently against the wall in an upright position.

‘Pale as the clouds.’ said Tobias, repeating an old Elysian phrase.

Without another word, and not needing to count to get their timing synchronized, they hammered at the door with their boots until finally they heard a small chime of a nail or screw hitting the floor inside. Once the first fell, the rest gave in together.

The door swung open, flushing out the stale air as they both entered through it, guns raised and panning. Tobias had one hand around the handle of his lasgun and the other on the polished wood at his leg while doing so.

'Not all clouds are pale,' Elias grunted, picking Jaques back up. 'But the grass is always greener.'

‘No matter where he goes, I imagine it will better…’ replied Tobias, hoping Jacques’ pain helped him not hear the words.

This time, Tobias helped Elias move the man onto a table. A few small objects were swatted out of the way, falling onto the floor. The started on opposite sides of the room, searching for medical supplies of any kind.

They returned to the table with some gauze and wrappings, but nothing close to what Jacques truly needed. They took out their knives and split apart his webbing, and removed the top half of his uniform. He couldn’t recall if Jacques had thrown his own helmet off after hitting the ground, or if Elias had done so. Either way, it was already gone along with their grav-chutes.

As Elias went to work the best he could with what he had, Tobias brought his lasgun back to bare. He scanned the room again looking at the entrances.

The slowly swinging door they came through, creaking quietly. Another just like it opposite, but still locked and shut. A larger one in the middle...he figured this one led out to the courtyard.

He breathed steady. The darkness, the quiet, filled only by Jacques’ torture. It began to make his skin crawl, and he noticed some sweat forming beneath his helmet and uniform. He reached up a gloved hand to detach his rebreather.

He heard something.

His hand shot straight back to its place, his rebreather half-way unclipped.

‘Elias…’

Jacques was almost yelling as Elias tried to pat his body with gauze so he could at least see the wound better. The temporary spray Elias had applied had already been pushed past its limits.

The sounds got louder.

‘Elias.’ he said again, louder, urgent.

What did an Ork sound like on the ground? Hell, the only one he’d seen was a green hulk in the cockpit of a plane.

He moved close to the main door to hear better. Some shouting.

Footsteps. Shuffling. Voices that were…. not shouting.

Tobias hustled away from the door, yanking his shotgun from its place and pointing all three barrels toward it.

Damn it, Elias! Main fugging door!'

His brother finally looked up, and stained his own barrels with bloody hands a heartbeat later.

Who knew what was coming through. Tobias’ eyes were unblinking, but he saw more than just the blank metal doorway in front of him. He pictured Elysian sparrows and jays, battling each other in what looked like a game.

The doors burst open, and it took all of his training to not immediately open fire. They were human figures, shouting and scared.

‘Stand down!’ he yelled. He became increasingly enraged by the second, that these men did not yet recognise them as allies. Each time his heart beat with guns still pointed at Elias, his teeth ground harder and his fingers squeezed tighter.

But, before he could make a mistake, they were all forced to the ground as a shock wave took the room.

You can never be prepared for the unexpected


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post #25 of 60 (permalink) Old 03-09-16, 11:49 PM
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Domnious touch his chest, feeling the silver chain and locket beneath his pitiful flak vest, the only true protection he had was a memory, no amount of praise to some unknown emperor on some planet so far away as to be myth could offer him anything that the memory of his love could do and do far better. As Religious as Dom ever got was fantasizing about his wife dressed as a Sorotitas, a bit of sacrilege to indulge his palpable loneliness. However such fancies where not on his mind at the moment as he held his weighty weapon, cocked and ready to deliver high caliber death. However it would be useless for him to remain near the gate, he needed to feed the beasts on the other side of that wall some painful lead.

He saw that some had headed into the building in the base, but there would be no safety there if the others and Dom did not act to defend themselves, regardless of the thick atmosphere of fear that had washed over them all, even Krassus as hardened as he was could not suppress the anxiety the situation brought, the only thing to do was channel that fear into the drive to fight, and so he followed another group to the top of the walls, a smart move if they were to make use of this fortified position while the gate remained secure, for the moment.

He made his way up seeing the others already giving the xenos return fire of their las carbines, the flashed of light lighting up their horrified faces. He got into cover and slowly peeked over the parapet of the wall to see what he faced, a frothing mass of green skin and patchy armor, wielding sharpen slabs of metal that might have been ripped from a tank for all he knew. They were terrifying, with massive body proportions covered in steely corded muscles, if they got in they were sure to be torn apart, their was no way a knife would ever take one of them down. "They are fuggin, big aren't they...," He Observed as he ducked back down, bullets peppering haphazardly in the general area where his head had been, "...And it seems they are bad shots."

With that much fire though and their numbers, I guess it didn't matter how bad their shots were if they could put out that much fire. He needed to do something though, he could afford to sit there and be passive, he had not started this night passive and he certainly wouldn't end it passively. He hefted his gun again, thought briefly of Serah's Silver hair, and lifted his gun and set it on its tripod and pointed the barrel down and let loose with a long burst into the frothing group orks. He guided the stream of bullets through the orks, trying to bring it to bare on the big one. AS he did so a slew of high velocity rounds hit one of the smaller ones, though small is a relative term, and finally hit the big one.

"Got the Bastards!" He said to himself as he ducked back down before he could get a round planted in him, though he felt some come too close for comfort. He Peeked back over the edge, hoping to see some dead orks, but much to his dismay he hadn't killed any, how they still stood after that was beyond him. "What in the blasted mines are we fighting?! How do they expect us to do anything that can take a heavy stubber and live?" He said exasperated and worried at the worsening predicament, especially since none of his comrades had even managed a hit yet.

It got suddenly warmer however as one of the blasted beasts had a flamer of some sort, and was planning on cooking the defenders of the wall, one of the bastards on the wall even got caught by the flame. However there wasn't much time to think on the development as a lucky shot from one of the chaps burst the fuel tank on the Xeno's back, which turned out to be very unlucky in the grand scheme of things as the gate they had fought to seal was blown apart by the massive fireball the ork had become. It seemed they were to be like deep miners that knew a collapse was coming, it was over for them, especially when the big one yelled at the others, "Doors open boyz, 'ave at 'em!"

The explosion had knocked some of defends of the wall, but Dom managed to stay up there if only by luck. He knew the courtyard would be filled soon with the green monsters and he needed to bring lay down fire now to support his squad mates before they were all torn to pieces. He got to the edge of the wall and aimed down into the charging xeno and opened fire trying his best to focus on the targets before they could get to the men, he knew he would have to fill these things with lead to put them down. "Just Die already you green blighters!" He shouted as his stubber blasted at them.

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post #26 of 60 (permalink) Old 03-11-16, 12:48 PM
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I didn’t feel safe standing in the middle of the courtyard and so I fell in behind three others advancing on the main entrance. The sound of gunfire from the ramparts intensified and I felt a faint wave of heat stroke the back of my neck. Despite the very real threat just beyond the walls, the suspense of what lay in the main building made me grip my las-carbine so hard my knuckles began to ache. I wished I could say I remained calm and resolute throughout, but I could see the end of my las-carbine waver. My breath was still ragged.

I heard screaming, muffled through the door of the main building, but definitely screaming. It sounded like pain and despair. A man was dying. Was he being tortured? Were those they had been sent to reinforce in there, fighting for their lives against an outflanking force? Had they already been butchered and it was the groan of a lone survivor slowly expiring? My mind rushed through the possibilities and I was sure my comrades were thinking the same. It didn’t matter. We had to move forward and face whatever lay ahead. Behind us was only death.

My father had taught me how to survive the crashing of tidal waves against our ship. When you could see a wall of water rising up to meet you, you wrapped the closest piece of rope around you as tight as you could bear. Then you held your breath and let the wave crash over you. This was not dissimilar. I gripped my las-carbine a little harder and pushed its stock into my shoulder hard enough to hurt. I took a deep breath and the barrel of my gun became reasonably steady. I was ready to face whatever was behind those doors. A crash shattered the suspense.

We surged through the door, weapons and tensions high. It was a miracle none of us open fired. There was little lighting in the main building, but there was enough to show two shadow-wreathed figures, armed. What were they? Assassins? Allies? Immediately the building was filled with shouting voices, mine included. “Put down your weapons! Put down your fucking weapons!” There were half a dozen overlapping voices, all of them human but that didn’t seem to matter to any of us. The unknown was enough to spook us. The moaning continued, although I don’t think any of us were paying attention to it anymore. Suddenly our voices were drowned out by a hurricane of fire and glass.

The windows behind me blew out and I felt a shard nick my ear as the shockwave forced me to the ground. The light of the flames persisted, but it orange hue caught the wings on the stranger’s uniform. “The Aquilia! They’re friendly!” I yelled, scrambling to my feet. Even though there were only two of them, the prospect of reinforcements almost moved me to delirious tears. It meant we weren’t alone in this. However, this moment of joy was quickly shattered by the sound of the orks barking orders. I looked behind me. Oh Terra, the gate was open.

“Close the doors” I said, not quite realising that I had said it until a split second later. I slammed the main doors shut and pulled a small table that had been by the window in front of the door. I turned the table on its side and jammed it under the doors handles. It wasn’t much, but it would mean the orks might take an extra second or two to break through the door. That second might be the difference between life and death if we needed to flee.

“Man the windows!” I yelled. I turned to the strangers. “Help us, or we’re all fucked.” I crouched by the window and propped my las-carbine on the frame for stability. I started to fire into the orks now streaming through the gates with my comrades. Some on the ramparts were dead or had been knocked onto the courtyard. The rest were firing into the orks. Although I hated myself for thinking it, I hoped the orks took a greater interest in those on the walls. At least if they died first, the rest of us might have a chance to escape before the xeno brutes turned their attention on us…

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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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post #27 of 60 (permalink) Old 03-12-16, 11:16 PM
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Every step was a burn of muscles and a grind of teeth. Elias was strong, stronger than most, and fit - But he was tired, cold and soaked red. Jaques was a mewling, ragged form; pale and shaking. Ahead, disappearing into the darkness, eagerness and concern driving him onwards, was Tobias. He was a lean shadow, a promise of death, his rifle scanning the corners, the kill-points, the empty rooms and broad windows. Elias pitied whatever poor soul run into Tobias - They would, surely, find a new hole bored through their skull.

'No one's here,' His brother called out. Shut up, Elias thought. Shut up, keep your discipline.

'Because it looks like no one is here,' Elias's voice was a sterner echo to his brother's. He could hear himself straining, hear the ragged panting, see the misting of breath before him. 'That doesn't mean it's true.'

They were illuminated. Orange light, flickering and alive, filled their visors. Elias's HUD compensated, dimming and adjusting. An explosion, he wondered. The oncoming storm, he feared.

'Maybe there just weren’t,' Tobias hesitated. His jaw worked tightly. 'Many people here. I would have thought Prolial Prime would be all hands on deck, though.’

Elias had read. Entire systems fled before the Greenskins, when their hordes were sighted. Planets were depopulated, poisoned and abandoned - Starving the Orks of their sport, of their barbarity. Prolial Prime was different - Her people were standing, they were fighting and they were dying. How many thousands were now shackled, chained and forced into slavery? How many were slaughtered, cut down by crude cleaver and bullets? Untold and unending amounts, Elias knew. The men and women of Prolial would stand and die - That much was true. It seemed pointless, however, to sacrifice good Elysian lives, and those of the Black Templars. Elias had been harbouring these thoughts since translation in-system.

'People run, people hide, people die,' He said, spitting. Tobias was rattling a door handle, and then, frustratedly, kicked it.

It remained firm.

His brother's face turned back towards him. Even helmed and shadowed, Tobias was handsome. ‘Think he’ll live if you set him down for a moment?’

Jaques was, truthfully, in the Emperor's hands. Elias's medical training was rudimentary at best - Tobias's, he knew, was even worse.

'Perhaps,' He said, sadly. 'Perhaps not. We have to get through, either way.'

Gently, slowly, Elias propped Jaques against the wall.

'Pale as the clouds,' Tobias muttered. Their grandfather had said it often, freely, faithfully. He had been a religious man, a drinking man, a killing man. As boys, they had worshipped him - As men, they had carried his coffin.

In unison, the Lengens struck the door with their boots. It groaned, it bent inwards and struck the ground with a loud, echoing clang. They swept inwards, Elias shouldering his rifle, finger hovering over his trigger - Eyes dancing.

'Clear,' He said, to himself. He was already retreating backwards, hunched and fierce, towards Jaques. 'Not all clouds are pale,' He called to Tobias, as he picked their wounded squadmate back up. His gloves were still slippery. Droplets were falling from them, red and malign in the half-light. 'But the grass is always greener.'

‘No matter where he goes, I imagine it will better,' Tobias said. That would earn him a cuff around the ear - For disrespect, for speaking unfairly, when Elias wasn't lumbering a half-corpse.

He grinned at the hypocrisy of his thoughts, and lowered Jaques onto a table. Already, Tobias was ransacking the cupboards, throwing jars and vials onto the floor. Glass shattered and metal twanged.

Elias joined him, splintering a wooden cabinet with the butt of his rifle. He found bandages - Though, not enough. Tobias found gauze, Elias already having exhausted his meagre supply.

With their combat knives, they cut through Jaques webbing. Elias took half of his ammunition - Tossing the rest over to Tobias. He unclipped Jaques' pistol and handed it to his stricken friend - If the Orks found them, he wouldn't deny Jaques the chance of mercy. Elias and Tobias would have no such time to administer it - Dying, for their Emperor and a shit-hole of a world.

He felt like a grave-robber, peeling away Jaques funerary robes. His shirt was a wet rag, one that went onto the floor carelessly.

Tobias moved away, and Elias went to work. He soaked Jaques stomach with gauze, quietly telling him a story - Of bright skies, of unsetting suns and beautiful women. He described it all lewdly, bandaging his friend's gut. He was grinning, despite their predicament, as he imagined Theodora. He hoped she still lived - He prayed that she would return.

His brother's cry took him by surprise. ‘Damn it, Elias! Main fugging door!'

His rifle was shouldered, Jaques forgotten about.

A door burst inwards, and a scrum of figures came in. They were shouting, they were trembling and they were scared.

'Lower your guns,' Elias was bellowing, rounding the table. He joined Tobias, feet planted firmly. 'Ave Imperator, don't be fools - We are friendlies!'

That was when the windows burst inwards, when Elias struck the ground, helmet bouncing off the floor.

'Ave Imperator,' He called, one last time, as he awaited the xenos to gut him.

Nyctophobia- Fear of the Dark Angel.

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

'Killing a man is like fucking, boy, only instead of giving life you take it. You experience the ecstasy of penetration as your warhead enters the enemy's belly and the shaft follows. You see the whites of his eyes roll inside the sockets of his helmet. You feel his knees give way beneath him and the weight of his faltering flesh draw down the point of your spear. Are you picturing this?'
'Yes, lord.'
'Is your dick hard yet?'
'No, lord.'
''What? You've got your spear in a man's guts and your dog isn't stiff? What are you, a woman?'
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post #28 of 60 (permalink) Old 03-14-16, 07:08 PM
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The crash of glass and splintering of wood could definitely be heard within the central building of the outpost, of that Liam was certain. Clutching the grip of his carbine until his knuckles were white, he put a shoulder against one of the walls to either side of the main double doors and tried to steady his breathing; reciting the litany of calming under his ragged breath. The sweat that had soaked his uniform during the groups flight from the wrecked haulers had started to settle, the dry wind making him shiver despite te heat.

The sound of gunfire made Liam look back towards the gate, some of the others had taken to the walls and were shooting down at those vile aliens. The crack-whine of the carbines was interjected by booming returns from the guns of the orks and the stubber of that Dominus guy. Shaking his head, Liam looked back at the three others that had come with him, all against the opposite wall as if waiting for him to make the first move.

A muffled scream, like someone in the grips of death or something like it, spurred everyone into action. Liam kicked one of the twp doors, Greiner, the guy from the ocean, did the same with the other one and all four charged in with guns raised. What Liam saw might have given him pause if he had not just been chased like a dog and hunted down by monsters made real.

There were two figures, clad in shadows thanks to the low light of the building and with weapons aimed at Liam and the others. Who, or whatever they were, Liam didn't really care. At least one of the was hunched over like the Orks and their voices were both harsh and had accents that definitely marked them as not from this world.

“Put down your weapons! Put down your fucking weapons!” Greiner yelled, while the pair opposite them seemed to do the same thing. One of them growled for Liam and the others not to be fools, which only made Liam's lip curl back in anger and his finger came that much closer to pulling the trigger.

Suddenly and without any sort of warning, the shooting from outside stopped and an explosion lit up the courtyard behind them. The windows of the building shattered and everyone dived for cover of some sort. Hitting a bench on his way to the ground, Liam coughed and rolled onto his back, glass crunching beneath him as he did so. When he had dived, Liam had gotten a better look at the pair, illuminated by whatever had gone on behind him. He had seen the pale faces of men and seen the aquila on their helmets, and their weapons were a variation of the carbine that Liam and the others were carrying. "Iyve Empriter" one of them had called out, and it finally hit home for Liam: offworlders!

“The Aquilia! They’re friendly!” Greiner yelled to everyone, scrambling to his feet. The older man wasted no time gawking at the fact that these pair were offworlders likely come to help them, instead he made to close the doors they had busted open. Liam scrambled to join him, getting an eyeful of what had happened outside.

"The gate is gone!" He yelled even as the first of the Orks stalked through the flaming remains and bounded towards one of a number of prone troopers on the ground. "Get up, get up!" Liam yelled to those outside, shouldering his carbine and shooting towards the massive form of an Ork and praying to the God-Emperor he hit and did something.
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post #29 of 60 (permalink) Old 03-15-16, 06:43 PM
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Zach entered the main building with the others, figuring that both any threat within the walls would probably kill them all if left alone, and that any threat within the building would surely be smaller or less numerous than the threat outside. Two men walked in front of him, making him feel as safe as he could be in his predicament. As the group moved purposefully forward, Zach took the time to take in the surroundings. He looked around, trying to see if there were any supplies that he might be useful later, but could only see the remains such. Shelves were emptied, their contents strewn broken on the floor, as if someone was desperately trying to find something. His weapon hung low in his hands as he looked around. The place was ransacked, with great haste. In the little light coming from behind them, a wetness glistened on the floor. Was that blood? It wasn't splattered on the ground, as he had seen happen with the other soldiers who were shot to pieces, but seemed to have been dripping from a wound. A terrible wound, looking at the amount of blood.
His comrades, if you could call them that, were silent. The sounds from outside; gunfire, explosions and harsh shouting rung in Zach's ears. Despite this, cries of anguish became audible ahead of them, muffled through a pair of closed doors. In his nervous condition, it took a moment for him to imagine what must have happened, but as he was about to speak his hypothesis, "Guys, I think -", the door was kicked in and they were standing eye to eye with two figures who had their weapons already pointing at them. One of them was covered in blood, and on the table near them a third man lay that looked even worse. "DON'T SHOOT! DON'T SHOOT!" Shouted Zach, his hands raised, moving as if he was telekinetically trying to knock away the weapons of the two men in front of him. However, his shouts just added to the cacophony of the other five men. There was no time to fear whether anyone would open fire though, as an earth-shaking explosion made Zach yelp and throw himself to the ground. A rain of glass made him glad he was wearing his helmet for the second time this day.
Luckily, his squadmates had finally understood the two men were on their side. 'The gate is open!' shouted the man next to him, as Zach tried to stand up. His heart sank, as did he. He crouched towards the nearest window, cautiously peeking outside.
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post #30 of 60 (permalink) Old 03-21-16, 12:30 AM Thread Starter
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Elias, Tobias, Liam, Greiner, and Thede; Rushing to the blown out windows, your just in time to see the first of the Orks slaughtering those to slow to get up and defend themselves. Krassus is clearly doing his best to keep them at bay with his heavy stubber, but his gun is soon silenced when one of the greenskins takes an interest in him. Liam and Tobias both direct their shots at an Ork charging at LaVeer, Liam managing to put a bolt between the greenskins eyes and Tobin putting a tight group of shots into the things chest and gut. The alien falls backward, dead as far as anyone can tell from this distance.


Greiner and Thede both take aim at separate targets, both managing to hit their mark with Thede’s target taking a blow to the leg and hitting the ground while Greiner only wings the shoulder of his. Both spray the building with shoddy machine guns, the aliens aim a joke if their guns weren’t shooting out explosive rounds. Both of you drop down to avoid being killed, and that’s when something is tossed in the building, bouncing off a table and rolling on the floor.


Elias has his eyes set on the most dangerous prize coming into the compound, the Ork nob. While the others shoot at the smaller Orks or try to protect the troopers still outside, Elias sprays controlled bursts at the nob. It bellows orders at those around it before pulling a grenade from a pouch and lobbing it into the building. You get up from your spot and dive into the nearest person to you, the warning of a grenade on your lips a second before the thing goes off.


[You all hear Elias’s warning, with Greiner hauling Thede behind cover just in time and Tobias jumping out of the way. Liam, however, is out in the open with nowhere to go. Just as the grenade goes off, someone in black tackles you to the ground and is shredded as a result. Coughing and picking yourselves up, Tobias and Elias will notice that Jacques is dead, having shielded Liam from the grenade. Greiner will have a sliver of shrapnel in his leg but everyone else is otherwise winded but unharmed.]




Krassus and LaVeer; Monsters sprint in from the remnants of the gate, six of them in total but it might as well have been six hundred for all it mattered. Several of them go right for those of you on the ground, two pouncing on troopers with almost maniacal glee. A third one goes after LaVeer, but a flurry of las-bolts from the building the others had gone to arrests the beasts jump and it hits the ground. Others turn their sights on the building now, opening fire with crude looking machine guns and peppering the wall with craters. That is until the largest one lobs what could only be a grenade into the building, just before some other massive thing smashes into it. Another creature, this one a blur of black and splashes of white, runs it and the Ork into a wall and the two trade blows.


[No time to watch the fight or see if those in the building are OK. LaVeer, you get back to your feet and scramble for your gun, narrowly dodging having your head taken off by another of the Orks. It lunges at you, a blade a third the length of your body slashing out to disembowel you, but you block with your carbine just in time.


Dom, without wasting a moment you let rip with your heavy stubber and unleash a hail of bullets at the incoming Orks. Shots pepper the ground, making the group scatter initially until one of them shoots at you and blows a fist sized hole in the wall right by your head. Retreating back up to the top of the wall, the Ork comes after you, bounding up the steps in moments. Unfortunately, for it, you’re ready and pull the trigger when it’s right in front of you. This one is promptly shredded.]




Theodoricus; Bounding forward, you charge through the shattered gate and take in the scene. The bodies of the dead and dying lie around the central courtyard, with Orks stalking towards the few who remain on the ground or walls while a few more open fire on the main building. More survivors, taking cover behind the walls of the main building, trade fire with the greenskins while one of the beasts lobs a grenade inside.


Sidestepping stray las bolts and explosive shells, you crash into the massive bulk of the Ork leader, the nob that had ignored the chance to take you on before. Unlike before, however, you continue to piston forward. The two of you collide with the wall of the main building, cracking the rockrete. The nob recovers quickly, a meaty fist crashing into the side of your head, forcing you back. Its other arm scrabbles at its side, grabbing hold of a pistol that it tears out of a leather holster.


[This will not be an easy fight, to say the least. The pistol is automatic, four shots will hammer into your mid-section. None will penetrate, but a new warning will flash on your display. The nob will manage to knock the chainsword out of your grip before it takes any major damage, but you are hardly defenseless.]

Damnation is paved on good intentions; subtle and sugar coated or blunt and honest
A hero is someone who steps up when everyone else backs down.
Popularity is what people strive for when they lack the strength to be themselves.


Seriously, is it really that hard to write reviews without spoilers?

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