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post #41 of 60 (permalink) Old 04-06-16, 02:10 PM
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Peeking out of the building, Zachariah saw the green monsters rush through the breached gate. He had been certain the walls would've protected them, or at least would've lasted a lot longer than they did. The sound of the explosion was still ringing in his ears, blurring with the sounds of battle into a surreal noise. Zach had never been in such immense and imminent danger, which made it something he could not fully comprehend. It was almost as if he was dreaming a vivid nightmare, and could wake up any moment. At least he thought, that was what he hoped.
As he peered over the sights of his weapon, the ugly creatures came into view through the smoke and dust. For the first time able to take a good look at them, their alien features only added to Zach's feeling of surreality. The beasts rushed onwards, spraying the building with small explosions that cracked into the wall nowhere near Zach. He had instinctively lowered his head, costing him precious time to take aim. The fear now had a slight taste of anger, as Zach again pushed his cheek to the stock of the gun. He quickly sought out the closest one, and all surroundings faded into nothingness. He lined his shot up as fast as his training had allowed him to do so, holding his breath. Then, he felt his finger curl around the trigger, and a lasbolt slammed right into the ork's knee. The monster slammed forward, its face hammering into the courtyard. A rush of accomplishment came over Zach, as he quickly sought out another target. His sights swayed across the ork next to the one that fell, and would've steadied were Zach not pushed in his side.
Why would anyone do that? Zach pondered the madness that must've come over the man next to him, disturbing his chance for a second hit. But as he repositioned himself to fire again, strong arms dragged him to what he would later realise was safety. For the second time, the room erupted in blinding light, flying debris and a noise even louder than the one before.
It was not long before his senses returned to him, still aching from overexposure. He slowly arose, and looked around. Most of the men in the room seemed relatively unharmed.
“Come one, they still need our help.” His saviour said. Zach stammered his thanks to him, and rushed back to the window, still unsure what had happened just yet. He had woken up, but was still in a nightmare.
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post #42 of 60 (permalink) Old 04-10-16, 02:43 AM
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My gaze never breaks from the xeno’s piggish eyes as my pistol bucks against my grip in quick succession. I witness its hatred for me warring with the sudden realization that its life is measured in mere moments.

I feel the smile pull at my lips as something akin to fear ghosts through its alien eyes. It had not considered the possibility it could die here.

A possibility that I was about to ensure became a very abrupt reality.

-

The bolt rounds hammered home in green flesh, the first catching the ork leader low in the gut and decorating the wall behind the xeno with vital fluids a moment later as the explosive round detonated. The second round made a wet crack as it tore through the ork’s upper chest, shredding lung tissue with razor sharp fragments.

The xeno coughed thick green blood across the front of Theo’s armour. Flecks of lung and splinters of rib clung to the scared Templar cross on his chest as the beast’s meaty paw shot forward to connect with Theo’s helm before he could react. The blow rocked the young Templar, a brief spray of grey static lacing the ruby wash of his helm’s display.

The ork surged forward, reaching out to grab at Theo’s chain-clad wrist. Even wounded it strength was still massive. With a coughing roar that saw yet more of its foul blood leaking from its gaping jaws, the ork jerked Theo forward, spinning him around and slamming his back into the fractured wall of the outpost.

The impact drove the air from his enhanced lungs and rattled his teeth in his skull. Dust from the abused rockcrete settled across black enameled ceramite, sticking to the green blood that flecked its surface. Gripping its gun like a club, the xeno beast endeavored to bash Theo into a black and red pulp.

Blocking the makeshift club was like trying to halt a land raider with his bare hands, and Theo grunted as he was thrown back into the unforgiving surface of the wall yet again as the ork leader’s gun hammered him with blow after blow. With a final roar the beast threw itself at him with all its remaining strength.

However, the structure at his back had taken considerable damage and the combined weight of a power-armour clad astartes and ork nob was finally too much for it to bear. With a sharp crack, not too unlike the dry snapping of bone, the wall disintegrated in a tumble of masonry and stone-dust.

Theo was rolling before he even hit the ground, his fist pistoning out to crack into the ork’s thick skull with the hilt of his knife. The blow connected with a low crack, and the ork tumbled to the ground amid the rubble. Theo growled, holstering his pistol and hauling the beast over as he put a knee to its chest.

The gleaming edge of Theo’s blade caught the filtered light that was coming through the hole at his back as it was buried to the hilt in the corded flesh of the xeno under him. Theo jerked the blade hard, using both hands to force it down through muscle and flesh and into the floor beyond.

With the ork pinned under him, Theo reached out to the side, feeling for the chain that bound his chainblade to his armour and, with the chime of cold adamantium on stone, wrapped his gauntleted fingers around the grip. The blade came to snarling life as his finger found the activation stud, chewing the air with the hungry whine of diamond-edged teeth.

Theo released his grip on his combat blade, leaving it buried in the chest of the ork as he rose to his feet over its mewing prone form. The xeno’s life was measured in mere moments, however Theo’s blade paused as a consideration passed through his thoughts. He reached forward and drug the ork’s head towards him by its lower jaw, ensuring that its eyes met the uncaring red lenses of his battle helm.

Theo’s deep voice was a dark growl of vox-distortion,

Who is the one who you follow, filth? Who is the one who leads your craven forces and condemns you to death…’

Without waiting for an answer, Theo brought his chainblade down on the exposed neck of the beast. The head came away with the sharp smell of cut bone and blood geysered from the corpse as it went into spasms. He held the detached head out for a long moment before letting it drop to his side.

Theo locked his dripping chainblade to his armour and put his armoured foot on the beast’s corpse. With a grunt he pulled his combat blade from the chest of the dead xeno, and, with care that bordered on ceremonial, pressed the blood-slick blade onto the torn parchment chained to his shoulder guard.

Only then did Theo look up to the room around him, targeting reticules flashing before his eyes, a bloodied demi-god of war haloed by the ruins that only served to exemplify the sheer primal power of a being bred for one sole purpose.

-

I am the blade that will cut out the heart of the Emperor’s foes.
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post #43 of 60 (permalink) Old 04-22-16, 02:20 PM Thread Starter
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Hal; Your wild shots go wide, all but one missing their mark. The one shot that did hit managed, by the grace of the God-Emperor, to clip the Orks hand and make it drop the pistol it had been clutching; not that the monster seemed to care in the slightest. Breaking into a sprint, the Ork ate up the distance between the two of you, taking a second las-bolt to the shoulder without slowing. All to quickly it was upon you, barreling into your impressive frame like a truck and lifting you off your feet.

You hit the ground hard, rolling to the side by instinct. That instinct saved your life as the Ork hammered a club into the ground where your head had been. You lash out with a leg and connect with the aliens knee, and though it grunts in pain, connecting with the creature is like hitting solid stone. The Ork rounds on you with the club again, but you shift to the side and avoid another killing blow; this time smashing your carbine into the Orks arm and making it let go of the club.

With an inhuman snarl, the Ork drops onto you, one massive hand tightening around your neck and the other pinning one of your arms.

[If you didn't know any better you'd swear there was glee in those inhuman beady red eyes. As your vision starts to fill with spots, your left to either try and grab the Orks fallen club that is slightly out of reach or try to loosen the Orks grip around your throat. You have only enough time for one, go for the club or try to stop the Ork; which do you do?]


Dom; The Ork all but explodes in a shower of gore, and despite the urgency of the situation around you your body refuses to move for a moment. You've seen death before, lived it for a time, but this still struck you. This wasn't a human dieing, or the killing of an animal for a commodity; this was an alien that just wanted you and the others dead for the fun of it.

Anger welled up in your chest, and with a shake of your head you regain control of your legs and head back to the stairs. Even though its has been only a minute or two, things appear to have changed dramatically. Where before there had been about half a dozen Orks, now there are only two; and where before several had been shooting at the main building of the compound, now there is a hole in the wall and smoke coming out of the windows. Of the occupants you don't know, but they are beyond your care at this time.

Instead your attention falls to the last two Orks, each one grappling with another trooper. The closest one is on the ground, strangling the massive form of Varks, while the second Ork stabs and swipes at LaVeer with what might be a knife. The smaller man just barely manages to avoid the attacks each time, but how long can his luck hold out?

[Both men are in dire need of aid, but Hal is pinned beneath an Ork. If you shoot the alien there is a chance you'll hit him.]


LaVeer; With a snarl the Ork tears the carbine from your grip, tossing the weapons aside and tearing a knife half as long as your arm from a scabbard. It takes a lunging swipe at you, which you just barely manage to avoid, before it turns with inhuman speed to stab at you. This forces you to jump back, the tip of the blade just catching your flak vest and putting a gauge in it.

Theres barely a moment for you to breath as it comes at you again, this time forcing you to drop low and scramble away. You throw a loose stone at the Ork, to try and give you a second to put some distance between you.

[With no weapon theres little you can do to fight the Ork. You could try to make for the main building the others had gone to, maybe they can help you, or you can try for the ramparts where you had seen Krassus go.]


Tobias, Elias, Liam, Alec, and Zachariah; Before you can even move the wall explodes inward and a massive object crashes onto the floor on the far side of the room. A whirlwind of limbs, some the fleshy dark green of the Ork leader and others armoured black and white, trade impacts with one another until the Ork is pinned beneath its attacker attempting to jam a blade into it.

Elias and Tobias; For a second your dumbfounded at the sight, the wall caving in and all. Almost at once you recognize the nobs attacker for what he is, adeptus astartes, and with that turn on the still dumbfounded PDF with you and rouse them back to action.

[The space marine can take care of the nob, get the troopers back onto the other greenskins. In all the years you've been fighting for the Emperor you have only seen space marines on two occasions. Its not something you encounter very often, but its not enough to keep you stopped.]

Liam, Alec, and Zachariah; You don't know what to think of this thing attacking the Ork leader. Its easily as massive as the alien and more human like than the Orks. Like them it looks to be inhumanly strong and tough, but unlike the Orks it is covered from head to foot in some kind of armour and its shoulder are monstrously oversized.

The offworlders don't give you time to gawk though, turning your attention away from the brawl and back towards the other Orks.

[There are only two of the aliens left and they are busy trying to kill Varks and LaVeer. Who do you help?]


Theodoricus; Standing up to your full height, you survey the soldiers before you. All but two wear the fatigues of planetary troopers, the remaining pair are clad in dark fatigues and clearly better armed and equipped. A combination of your armours machine spirit and your own memory recognizes the pair as guardsmen of the Elysian drop regiments; highly regarded elite infantry specializing in lightning strikes and emphasizing the use of aerial support elements over heavy armour.

The pair waste no time, drawing the other troopers back to the fray outside. A sentiment you most definately find agreeable, as you head out of the room to finish this filth. You cross to a trooper pinned beneath a greenskin, an armoured boot driving into the xeno's side and making it let go of the trooper. You stamp down before the Ork can recover, shattering its wrist before hauling the beast up by the neck with your free hand.

[Finish it]


[For those with a choice, shoot at the Ork of your choice until Theo deals with it. Then your attention clearly goes to the last one remaining. After LaVeer has acted, first come to killing the last Ork; happy hunting.]

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post #44 of 60 (permalink) Old 04-22-16, 08:14 PM
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Waiting for the two second recharge for the weapon had more of a stressful effect on the ex prisoner more than the actual thing putting him in peril in the first place. Each time Hal fired, the blazing spears of red missed, passing through the air with a crackling hiss. One shot grew into two, then three, all missing their mark as the Ork began to break into a sprint towards Hal.Growing frustrated, Hal finally brought his carbine up to eye level to give him more accuracy in hitting the monstrosity of muscle. Staring down the sights of his rifle, Hal bypassed the litanies taught to him and aimed center mass into the creature charging him.

Perhaps it was because of the thing's wild charge, or maybe because some entity had smiled down upon Hal that day, but the las beam caught the alien in his pistol hand, deadening the nerves of the meaty grasper and causing the ork to drop his firearm.

With what little time he had, there was none to be spared for celebration, as the savage was upon him. Firing a second shot into the ork, Hal had managed to clip the massive bulge of shoulder muscle, which the sprinting xeno seemed to give no care of. Seeing the distance between him and the greenskin had perished, Hal braced himself for the coming charge, hoping to at least remain on his feet.

Such hopes were soon flung out the window as the ork bashed into the PDF trooper, sending him flying. Never before had he felt such force, such raw power in one blow. Hal flailed through the air, the air driven from his lungs and conscious movement inhibited as he slammed into the unforgiving ground of the compound.

His body, although still in relatively good shape, ached to simply lie there and rest, to be given time to recover it's breath. However, his prior experiences would not allow his body's desires to be fulfilled, and he burst into action, rolling to his right and jumping to his feet.

Not even a second after Hal's head had left the ground, that a crudely constructed club smashed down into the dirt, producing a good sized crater into the ground. The battle high alien grunted slightly in surprise when he did not feel the crunch of bone under his club, then again in pain as he felt the impact of a boot hitting its unarmored knee.

Hal regained his predatory grin as he was able to land a blow on the ork, and almost burst into hysterical laughter when a narrowly dodged the lethal swipe of the alien's weapon. It was all getting to him, the rush of adrenaline, the feeling of utter pain even when he landed a hit on his enemy, even the slightest amount of pain he could cause to his seemingly unstoppable opponent brought him to new heights of exhilaration. Never before had he faced such a foe in his life, never before had he been tested to such extremes of combat. This was the fight of his life, this was the purpose of his life, the drive to spill blood in the name of survival, for his sake and his sake alone.

Catching the opportunity with his pale eyes, Hal swung the butt of his carbine into the ork's elbow, sending another stunning jolt into the beast's other arm, making it lose it's grip on the ramshackle weapon. Another small victory gave Hal a slight feeling of anticipation. Was it possible that he, and he alone could defeat such a monster in hand to hand?

That question seemed to be a little premature, for right before the hulking figure of Hal could gather his strength for another attack, the savage creature lunged at him with a snarl, sending them to the ground. It was then when Hal could finally appreciate the true brute strength of his enemy, as he felt the arm he was holding his rifle with being pinned to the dirt below him by a massive slab of green.

However, that was not his main concern, as the ork chose to slam his other hand down onto Hal's bullish neck. Letting out a slight choking noise, Hal felt the world around him darken, and the icy grasp of fear blossom in his heart. It was terrifying and invigorating, to have his life be on the verge of extermination.

There was a slight pause between the two adversaries, both glared at each other with unconstrained glee and hatred. Both grinned uncontrollably, one of yellowed and cracked fangs, the other of artificially sharpened white teeth. But the lack of oxygen and the crushing weight of the ork led Hal to look for a way out.

A jumble of thoughts ran through his mind as he fought to stay conscious, from uselessly grasping at the ork to the combat knife strapped tightly to his belt. Unfortunately, his knife had been attached to his rear instead of his side, prohibiting him from using it. All of his options seemed to fall short, nothing seemed to be at his disposal. He was about to resort to simply beating his fist into the face of the massive alien on top of him, but he spotted a blurry form a few feet away from him, lying uselessly on the ground.

With all the might he could muster, Hal began to push back on the ork's hold of his neck, tightening his neck and abdomen as hard as he could to gain a bit of wiggle room, at the cost of loosing even more of his vision to the darkness. He grasped wildly for the thick pipe of the clubs handle, not even able to see it anymore due to his vision loss. He stretched as far as he could, desperately searching the area with his hand, locking a defiant glare with the xeno's glee filled eyes.

As the darkness grew, and his strength waned, Hal could've sworn he felt the cold metal of the alien's discarded weapon, and he grasped at whatever he could. He couldn't feel if he had the weapon in his hand or not, nor could he feel it's weight, but he flung his arm towards the laughing skull of the greenskin, intent on either bashing it's head with cold steel, or his own fist, whichever he had at his disposal.

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post #45 of 60 (permalink) Old 04-25-16, 05:32 PM
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Dom had not realized how much time had passed from when he slew the ork and to getting to the stairs to check on his fellow PDF troops, it seemed much of the orks had already been killed, no doubt due to whatever that black and white ceramic behemoth was. Greenish blood dripped from his goatee and trickled through the cracks on the scarred side of his face, he was lucky that this day had not added more scars, yet at least.

He looked down to the ground level outside the main building in the yard that used to be protected by the gate, two orks remained that he could see at least. One was swiping at and chasing a smaller lad, Krassus had never bothered to learn any of their names. Blow after blow the ork flung at the smaller PDF trooper, but for some reason none of the attacks had managed to make its mark, something was watching over the lad for now, though he doubted it was anything Imperial Propaganda would have him believe. This was just pure chance ad survival instinct.

The second Ork was strangling the only other really large man in this platoon besides himself, this one looked like he had seen the prisons of this planet, he looked sort of like some of the gangers that he has killed or arrested over the past several years, with the weird sharpened teeth which served no real purpose besides making it harder to eat normally. However he couldn't dwell on dental hygiene, a word probably many in the PDF probably couldn't pronounce or spell, let alone understand.

He needed to help one of them, he was leaning towards helping the larger man since he was in the most dire situation, and also he seemed like he would be more useful in a fight. However the situation was precarious, he new the high caliber rounds from his heavy stubber would rip right through the ork, that only meant though that he would most likely end up shooting the man beneath the ork. So his attention turned to the smaller man, if he could get the ork off of this one, maybe he could distract this other ork long enough to get a clear shot, or get help.

He hefted his gun up and touched the silver locket under his flak vest and shirt, he had to make a decision, and he hoped it turned out right.

He aimed for the ork that was swiping at the smaller man, he had the least chance of killing the person he was saving this way.

"Steady my aim luv..." He said quietly to himself as he let loose a torrent of metal death at the ork.

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post #46 of 60 (permalink) Old 04-27-16, 04:13 AM
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Targeting ridicules flash before my eyes, outlining the humans before me in the greyed designation of non-threat. I can taste their fear on the air currents over the reek of the xeno leader’s corpse at my feet.

I am unsure which sickens me more.

Two stand out from the rest, their easy movements speaking of training that only comes with experience bought by blood. The machine spirit of my battle plate calls forth signifier runes even as my gaze catches the flash of rank engraved upon the chest of the soldiers. Both sets of rank mark the humans as Corporal.

Both are Elysian.

My mind pulls the name from hypno-implanted memories, Templar black has fought and bled beside these human troops before. The annuals of my own Crusade mark their honoured presence in past battles. Elite imperial human troops, favouring fast attack and airborne deployment though with little in the way of armoured ground support. Good for shock value against soft targets.

I recall the burning wreckage of the ork flyer that fell from the sky not minutes ago and smirk behind my expressionless battlehelm.

Orks offer very few soft targets, as it seems these human troopers have witnessed firsthand.

To their credit, the pair show the measure of their training and marshal the planetary forces back into the battle outside.

It seems that I will not have to flay all of the humans for cowardess.

I sheath my combat blade and heft the weight of the ork nob’s severed head in my left gauntlet, the low growl of servos following my movements as I turn back to the hole in the wall, leaving the humans to tend to their own.

-

Theo stepped from the wreckage of the wall he had just recently demolished and was greeted by a haze of smoke choked air and the sharp snap of las weapons. The courtyard was host to spilled blood and broken flesh of both xenos and human alike. Movement caught his gaze, an ork hunched over a bulky trooper who struggled under the beast’s tightening grip on his throat. The ork wore a filthy pair of leather pants, topped by a leather vest that served only to expose the myriad of tattoos and scars that marked the beast’s upper torso. Its head was a map of old wounds and missing chunks of flesh.

It took Theo six strides to cross the hardened ground to where the pair struggled.

Black ceramite connected with the exposed flank of the ork with the force of a thunderhawk’s main battle cannon. Theo felt alien bones break as the ork was thrown off the human, its grip on the trooper’s throat suddenly slackened. Theo stamped down hard on the xeno’s forearm, feeling the pleasurable grinding of bone being reduced to shards under his armoured weight.

He reached down with his free hand, ignoring the human still laying on the ground, and caught the stunned ork by the throat, hauling it up before him. Piggish eyes focused on his form and shock rode the alien’s features.

It had not expected the astartes to survive its leader’s wrath.

Theo smiled behind his battlehelm as the ork’s gaze dropped to the severed head that he carried. Rage flared in the depth of its alien eyes and the xeno bellowed its hatred at the young Templar before it.

Black clad fingers tightened around the ork’s neck, changing the roar of rage to a whimper of pain as its throat was crushed. The ork struggled against his grip, thrashing wildly and clawing with its one remaining good hand. Theo fed his already immense strength with a hatred borne from the blood of fallen brothers, bracing his stance and lifting the thrashing ork from the ground with his gauntlet locked around its neck.

With a roar that hearkened back to the mythos of ancient Terra, Theo rotated, shifting his weight and smashing the ork down. Green flesh ruptured and permacrete shattered under the force of the impact, the ork’s spinal column disintegrating into razor shards that riddled its already seizing heart.
Theo released his hold on the xeno’s fractured corpse and rose to his full height, the chiming of the chains that trailed from his weapons to his arms an odd counterpoint to the low growl of active battleplate. His armour was battered and streaked with alien filth, the white Surcoat that had once covered his chest was only tattered scraps of cloth hanging from the black chain that bound it to his waist.

Glowing eye lenses, the colour of cut rubies, bore down silently on the human at his feet.

-

I have always wondered at human frailty; the body of mankind is so easily broken, so easily shattered upon the anvil of war. But the spirit, the spirit of humanity is another matter. The spirit of man needs only one thing to stand against the darkest of the galaxy’s terror’s.

Hatred.

My voice is a low growl through my helm's vox, 'Get.... UP.'
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post #47 of 60 (permalink) Old 04-27-16, 11:39 AM
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Jakon watched helplessly as his carbine was wrenched from his hands and tossed far away and disappeared along with what little hope Jakon still had of surviving to the end of the day. To make matters worse the Ork drew another giant blade from an animal skin scabbard on his waist and Jakon fought back the urge to just freeze in face of such all encompassing terror. The Ork swung at him again and once more Jakon managed to side step it. The second strike, a long stabbing blow came too fast, faster than the trooper could believe the Ork could move. Yet still, his desperate leap back saved him, the giant dagger succeeding only in gouging a hole in the surface of LaVeer's flak vest.

Clearly frustrated from the pathetic creatures persistent survival, the Ork lunged at him wildly, both blades striking overhead with ferocious power and a more ferocious roar. Jakon dived past blows, rolling painfully on the solid ground and scrambling to his feet behind his assailant. He felt a stab of pain and he lost balance and his hand pressed down on a sharp hard stone. He grasped it, pushed himself upright and threw the stone with all the strength he could muster. It caught the Ork above the eye and made it flinch. Jakon knew he wouldn't get a better opportunity.

He ran away as fast as he could, back towards the ramparts where the trooper Krassus stood with his heavy stubber.

"Help me! Shoot him! SHOOT HIM!" Jakon bellowed, gesturing desperately towards the pursuing beast.

A moment of relief flooded over him as Krassus adjusted his aim, then disappeared as LaVeer realised he was in the firing line. He threw himself to the ground, covering his head with his arms as he heard the stubber let loose over his head.
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post #48 of 60 (permalink) Old 05-02-16, 11:51 PM
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Combat fugue. A ringing in the ears, an ache in the chest, a rattle of teeth and a blurring of vision. Elias was drooling, slack-jawed, as he struggled to his feet. Jaques is dead, he thought, and sniffed - Gunsmoke filled his nostrils, the metallic stench of offal, the smell of men - Perspiration and fear. Elias watched his brother closely, looking for wounds, for the spreading of blood. His eyes were quick, agitated, worried. This night had been bloody, it had been devastating, and it didn't seem to end. How much longer can I keep you alive? How much longer can I live?

Jaques had been a friend, the last of their squad, and now he was gone. Elias chewed the inside of his gum - Vengeance would come. The Greenskin would suffer, he vowed, fastening his hands around his rifle. Vengeance would come.

Let's kill these fug-' He started, but his words were stolen by a tremendous crack. The wall burst inwards, masonry avalanching to the ground. Rebars bounced and clanged. Into their midst came a pair of embattled giants; one black and white, whining and whirring, the other a squealing, chortling mass of muscle.

On Axiom, Elias had fought besides the Salamanders - He had seen their purifying units from afar, heard their mantras echoing through the tunnel-crypts, as they hunted the Black Legion. He remembered them, he remembered the destruction they left, and shivered. On Camorea, a Company of the Hammers of Dorn, haughty in their black and bronze, had given support to the Elysians. Together they had persecuted the detainment, interrogation and slaughter of a Chaos cult. Bloody business, that.

Elias had seen picts of the Black Templars. He knew what he was seeing - An Angel of Death, slick with blood, helmet-eyes glinting murderously.

Tobias was moving, too. The PDFers, dumbfounded, terrified, awed, were frozen still. Orks were crowding in the hole, leering, eyes bright. He could hear their squeals and laughter, he could see the flash of blades and guns and hauberks. He could smell them.

How many times had he been here? In a desperate situation, out-gunned and outnumbered, his heart pounding. How many times had he been here and lived?

Countless. Las-fire began to stitch the air. He saw green hide blacken and melt, running like wax. He wasn't looking back, Tobias was at his side, a mad cackle on his lips. They were advancing, they were stepping into the jaws of death, and they were exultant.

'Up and into them,' He bellowed, voice hoarse, weapon firing. 'Up and into them - For the Emperor and Elysia!'

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 #49 of 60 (permalink) Old 05-03-16, 12:59 PM
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Just as Tobias managed to re-shoulder his firearm, and his brother began to speak next to him, the room exploded again.

'Throne on Terra!" he shouted in disbelief and frustration, thinking yet another bomb had gone off and throwing himself to the floor. Though the effect was similar, the cause was entirely different. Two giants fighting to the death. One of flesh and one of metal.

Even through the blurring, dizzying action there was no mistaking the form of an Atsartes. Tobias caught sight of the glowing eye lenses, the enormous shoulder pauldrons, the suit's massive power pack. He had always been impressed by them, well...on the two occasions he had laid eyes on them in his lifetime. This was the first time he'd been this close, and the first time he saw one brawling in melee.

He was more than impressed. It was like a maelstrom personified.

The size of the Ork this Space Marine was fighting may have concerned him, but it was already dead by the time he changed his focus to it. All he really needed to know, was that they weren't invincible, just tougher than the usual foes as he had predicted, he thought to himself, grinning slyly.

He noticed the PDF troopers standing wide-eyed and slack-jawed and laughed.

He shouted, 'What? Reinforcements arrive, the tide has turned, and you're all just going to stand around!?' He made to leap over the piles of rubble. 'Come on, finish them. Finish them!'

If Elias hadn't been beside him, Tobias may not have recognized his brother's voice, now. 'Up and into them! For the Emperor and Elysia!'

They may as well have been on Elysia, since Tobias had almost entirely forgotten where they actually were. HIs heart beat as if he were defending his homeworld.

There were only a couple of the greenish beasts in the courtyeard before him, and the black armored Space Marine barreled out in front of them, reaching the remaining xenos in a handful of strides. Las and gun fire hammered into the beasts from multiple angles.

Tobias didn't bother firing anymore, as he sprinted forward, and took hold of his blade, yanking it from its place on his uniform. He didn't care if all of the orks were dead when he got to them. He was dying to punch the knife into one of their throats, and slice it open, take the head even. He wanted this, more than anything.

You can never be prepared for the unexpected



Last edited by unxpekted22; 05-03-16 at 01:03 PM.
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post #50 of 60 (permalink) Old 05-11-16, 09:12 PM
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Still slightly dazed from the grenade going off, Liam was about to turn around from having his back against the wall when another explosion shook him and the others. With a horrendous crash, the wall to his far left blew in and a massive thing fell through the newly made hole. A mixture of black, white, and green shown through the dust choking air, and it became clear that it was the massive Ork leader fighting some other alien monster.

It feels like minutes, watching the two creatures trade blows and fight for supremacy, but truthfully it was mere seconds. Ultimately the black and white alien, covered from top to bottom in what Liam could only guess was armor, rolled atop the Ork with a blade in its hand.


The offworlders didn't get give him or any of them time to gawk further. One of them shouting a curse, 'Threwn of Tura!', and even through the thick accent Liam understood the word Terra without much thought. Then the pair were up, the first pointing to this new creature as some sort of ally while the other bellowed for everyone to follow him out into the courtyard and into the other Orks.

"Frag that crazy." Liam grumbled, turning around and aiming his carbine through the window. He was surprised to see that there were only two Orks out there, one on top of the bulky Varks and another chaosing LaVeer. Liam had little like for Varks, he was a clear reminder of those who had used and abused him, and equally little for LaVeer for nearly closing him outside the outpost. But all their lives were at stake, so like them or not Liam was not going to just watch them die if he could do something about it.

"Help me! Shoot him! SHOOT HIM!" LaVeer shouted, and Liam brought his carbine up. Mumbling through the litany of guidance, he pulled the trigger and closed his eyes to avoid hurting them from the las-bolts flash. Opening them, he saw the shot had cracked the Ork dead in the face, green skin now a burnt black around one of its eyes. The monster stumbled forward, a massive hand reaching up.

The whine of his gun let Liam know it could shoot again and he did just that, this one hitting the Ork in the throat. With a smile spreading across his face, Liam lined up for a third shot while shouting to the others. "Come on, lets put this beast down!" And with that Liam fired a third time and hit the Ork in the side of the head and making it stumble.
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