Warhammer 40k Forum and Wargaming Forums banner
1 - 16 of 16 Posts

·
Premium Member
Joined
·
6,993 Posts
Discussion Starter · #1 ·
Calveus, a small system located on the border of Segmentum's Ultima and Solar; as a whole the system bears little importance. Of its six worlds only one is truly of note: the fourth world named Midlais. Originally colonized for its mineral deposits, Midlais is now a forgeworld that provides weapons currently vital throughout the sector in the pushing back of a massive WAAAGH centered around the Armaggedon system. All that can be spared have been mobilized, from the Imperial Guard, a company of space marines, and the titans.


Space, its such an empty thing for the most part. Millions of kilometers, and sometimes more, span the distance between worlds within star systems. From the jump point within the outer reaches of Calveus it is eighteen hours to the nearest world, and from there another four days to the forgeworld of Midlais. Since arrival, it had taken the relief fleet six days to make it this far, high orbit over the forgeworld itself. The last two of those had seen near relentless fighting with Ork ships, their brutish forms trying in vain to match the superior and coordinated power of Imperial vessels.

Beyond the main thrust of the warships came their vital cargo: nearly two dozen specialized Mechanicum landers. Seventeen of these contain war engines belonging to the Legio Gryphonicus; the War Griffons have come to Midlais.


Dobesh, Cartillisto, and Halruus; You stand along a gantry overlooking Auratus Salvator, its mighty form unmoving and silent while dozens of tech adepts make minute repairs. Cartillisto, you busy yourself with a data-slate tallying the losses and replacement cohorts that will be under your command. Though the praetorian units had taken a mauling, their losses were minimal compared to the skitarii. Dobesh and Halruus, you are busy discussing the changes that have since been made to the Salvator, action against a gargant had seen the melta cannon torn from the engine and nearly destroyed the sensorium unit in the resulting energy surge.

[It has been two weeks since that last action, to which you have all been recovering from psycho-stigmatic damage as a result of the Reavers pain. Beyond that, what do you think Isabella is learning?]


Hesh and Persyne; You sit within the open cockpit of Canis Rex, going through system checks to ensure that recent repairs have not altered anything. Two weeks ago the Rex had had its shields overloaded, the resulting in a power backlash that nearly caused the mighty engines blastgun to explode. Damage to the electrical systems had been extensive, and you've been out of action ever since.

[How have you recovered since then? All systems read fine, but are you final mentally? And how do you think things are going for Kaiden?]


Acantha and Talivera; In the distance you can see the bruised and ugly globe of Midlais. The planet is a ruddy brown splotched with red and purple storm clouds that cover a third of the ground. You stand around a massive hololithic projector in an observation station aboard the light cruiser Talon VIII, the lead vessel whose purpose it is to guard the legio's landers. With you are princeps from every other engine within the battlegroup, a grand total of seventeen with yourself included.

Along one side stand the pair of Antonius Grael and Keeva Bueh, princeps to the warlord titans Rend Asunder and Hammer of the Emperor. To their left are a trio of reaver princeps, one is Hessian Rym, and the others are the twins Gideon and Maelon Toombs. Each of these five is a legend with the legio, and between them all there is nine centuries of combat experience. Beyond them are half of the warhound princeps, with the rest to the right of Grael and Bueh along with another reaver princeps and yourself.

"The navy has promised us secured orbit within the next two hours. From there it will be another three days before our engines again get to walk upon a world." Grael begins, a mechanical hand tapping on the screen and enlarging a section of the forgeworld. "Our primary point is to be the outskirts of Azera forge, the most secure region left. From there we will move out and secure Tolin and Fraal forges before retaking the primary forge of Hal." Further tapping pulled the image back and displayed the locations of the other three forge cities.

"It is vital that we remove the Ork presence from forge Hal above all others. To the Imperium this is just another forgeworld for weapons and our presence means nothing more than taking it back. Make no mistake though, our presence here is a request that cannot be ignored; Hal forge is under the protection of the legio Ignatum. They are already engaged on Armaggedon, and we are here to aid our brothers in sisters as they would us."

[The legio Ignatum, the Fire Wasps, like your own legion can trace their history back to the Imperiums founding ten thousand years ago. Before now, you had not known that they had a base in this region, let alone that your here in their place. You and the rest of the battlegroup are gathered here to go over the information at hand, what is it you want to know?

Additionally, both of you suffered damage weeks ago against Orks; how are you recovering from those injuries?]
 

·
Closet Dictator
Joined
·
3,435 Posts
Hesh went over the auspex array one more time, all the hard wiring repair checked out but and the noos sphere was crystal clear but it never did any harm to double check, and prudent to maybe triple check. Hesh checked his input jack ports and sighed with frustration, the tech adepts had installed fresh ones as is protocol after a electrical blowout but he had asked them not to, he glanced around cautiously then inserted a small file scoring the inside of the port, and jerked it out putting in a slight buckle, it was an illegal mod and lessened the port life but it made the connection better particularly if you took heavy kinetic hits, everyone did it you just didnt mention it, and the Rex had taken some heavy hits!

Hesh turned to Persyne, "they replace your ports, they replaced mine, I 'm sick of telling them not too, auspex is 100% but I'll tweak that in the field if we csn spare the power but it will only work on an active auspex ping passive range will be the same." Hesh checked the action on the vulcan mega bolter and grinned at the throbbing hum of the barrel motor and clack of the breach, he'd run some extra weapon oil over the mechanism himself before they deployed. Turning to Persyne again he said "I'm set how about you, personally I'd like to get out of here before Kaiden shows up, he wont be happy until he kills something and I'd prefare it not to be me!" Checking his refection in the system monitor he squinted his eyes looking at his scars and fixing his side parting, "lets go get a drink!"
 

·
Irn Bru 32!
Joined
·
1,436 Posts
"Just give me a minute, i need to fix these ports if you know what i mean" Erinyes grinned as he took a small file similar to the one that Hesh had been using out of his overalls. He inserted the file into one of the ports and scraped away at the metal inside. Thank the throne that his good friend Hesh had taught him this sneaky little trick a few years back."so what you wanting to drink?. I hope its not that cheap stuff like last time" He said to Hesh jokingly, but really hoping to him self that it wasn't. When he was finished he put the file back where it belonged and headed over to Hesh, "lets get out of here before Kaiden arrives. Id rather take on an ork than him while he is in a bad mood".
 

·
visit roleplay threads!
Joined
·
2,259 Posts
Rusilay kept a firm grip on his dataslate as he hung his arms over the railing. Fortunately, his fingers didn’t get sweaty after going over the numbers. He was quite relaxed at the moment, in fact. His stylus conitnued to tap the screen, scrolling through the losses of Skitarii forces. He shook his head though, thinking to himself. These numbers were bad. It was a lot easier sending people to their deaths from the seat of a Titan, he was sure, than it would have been on the ground with them.

After the first year or so of riding in the Auratus Salvator, he had come up with several reasonings and justifications not to feel bad about losses of the forces under his command. He himself, had inflicted many more kills on the various enemies he had faced compared to the losses the Titan’s mechanicus regiments had incurred. This made it a bit easier.

The Skitarii did not experience fear like that of unaugmented, unblessed by the presence of the Machine God. This made it easier.

He was not the one actually sending them to their deaths. Whoever stationed the Titan and told his Princeps, dear Isabelle, where to go and make war was more at fault than him. He was not the one responsible for making sure all of the Imperial forces were adequately reinforced and always out matching their opponents. This made it easier.

He had made a point after the first year, to stop meeting so many of the Skitarii who were assigned with the Salvator. he hardly ever met any of them face to face. He would often see them while traversing the innards of the Titan, but would try hard to do nothing more than nod, salute, or say hello. Unlike men of the Guard, the Skitarii were perfectly content fulfilling their assigned tasks. They did not require small talk. All of this, as well, made it easier.

After putting in the numbers for replacements of their Praetorian and Hyspasist groups, Rusilay hoped they would last through the first mission of reclamation on Midlais, at least. It was going to be a hard fight, there was no doubt about that. He took a deep breath and made to look up at the Salvator when a sharp pain flared up in the back of his skull, rippling down his upper spine. He cried out for a moment, reaching his hand to the back of his neck, grimacing.

He put the stylus away in his uniform jacket, shaking his head, still rubbing his neck. The pain flare ups had been occurring fairly regularly since their previous engagement two weeks prior. He was sure that was the most damage the Salvator had ever taken.

“Guess I’m lucky to be alive.” He whispered to himself He wondered how his two comrades were faring. Their systems were directly hit, whereas his were not. He had only felt the backlash of pain from the Engine’s Spirit rather than the sensation of actually losing a limb.

His two fellow Moderati were standing with him on on the walkway, by the railing. One of them, Elijah, he had known for a long, long time now. Ever since they had graduated from the Collegia Titanica, in fact. He had found the man rather unsightly for a long while, but had long gotten used to it. He was used to bionic limbs, naturally, given his place in the universe. It was the thin, ragged, rat-like quality that never seemed to escape him. He was always tinkering with something and often Rusilay’s eyes would play tricks on him, causing him to believe Elijah was clattering his teeth while doing so.

Nonetheless, they had served with each other forever, and made a great pair of pilots. His other comrade, Sarka, was nearly the polar opposite physically. Having a hawk-like visage to him, Rusilay often envisioned Sarka taking a bite at Elijah when the two talked face to face.

So far, Sarka seemed to be a rather by-the-book individual, not that Rusilay had any problem with this. The man was a good Moderatus to have aboard the Salvator with them.

He turned to them both, adjusting one of the cables that ran down his side, but still had his hand on his neck. He was squinting his right eye a bit to signify discomfort.

“Still getting those damn flare-ups in my head,” he began, “How are you two doing? I’m not the only one still feeling the effects of that battle am I?”
 

·
Registered
Joined
·
64 Posts
The mechanicum repair pit was full of activity as adepts and tech priests alike performed the rites of maintenance on the titan war machine. Service cranes and servitor loader crews were moved past the god machine like so many scuttling insects. The face of the Reaver titan however looked as if it had this pained expression. Sarka shook his head and pulled his gaze away from the repair pit, the hairs on the back of his neck rose, the feedback burn still throbbed somewhat. Slowly Sarka muttered a short machine cant to relieve the pain. Lights danced in his head and echoed with whispers of binary chant. The sensorium overload was still stung him despite the rehabilitation they were undergoing.

“Omnissiah grant us the wisdom you only give to those who are truly faithful,” He whispered slowly with his eyes shut, “I am but a humble servant. I am weak and your strength is beyond counting.”

The figures required for maintenance of the reaver titan were flowing back into his mind. The amount of metal required to patch its' torn skin, the sacred unguents poured in veneration and the spools of power cabling that needed to be reworked. The throbbing pain soon returned to a slight itch where the implants for his work met flesh. He saw that Rusilay also exhibited signs of lingering feedback pain. It was not an easy thing to experience having a limb torn off Sarka thought and the pain Elijah must have felt at the point of impact.

Sarka unconsciously clasped an amulet of the Omnissiah he held in his jacket pocket at the thought of it. He felt dizzy as remembered the battle, it flashed full of memories, the pain of having your nerves feel like they are being slowly melted. His chest tightened for a second as he held his breath. The world soon began to right itself once more.

He eyed Elijah quickly, his brows furrowing in concern, it was unusual to come off that kind of damage unscathed. What of their princeps Isabella? Sarka considered how the current progress of the war and knew they were revealed very little except through her. He dismissed the thought and pondered how to broach the topic of feedback pain to the rest of the moderati.

Fortunately Rusilay did it for him and he seemed to be much more familiar with Elijah than most.

“Better than you'd think,” Sarka replied, “But not as great as I would like.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and felt the familiar tingle of his implants.

“How about you Elijah?” He asked freely.
 

·
Registered
Joined
·
2,071 Posts
Elijah lay in his bed twitching his bionic arm. Sleep had eluded his but that wasn’t unusual, especially since the damage to Auratus Salvator. The fabric of his Mechanicus approved cot tickled the hairs on his neck as he stared at the ceiling, his metallic digits tapping his palm in a regular pattern. He’d been staring at his ceiling for about two minutes and forty three seconds. He knew this because he’s set a rhythm of one tap a second and had counted every one. When he was younger he was told to sit still and sleep would find him. The problem was that even these two minutes and forty three seconds had felt like an eternity and his hand had been in constant motion.

Elijah closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. He swung his legs over the side of his cot and the hairs on his legs rose up as his bare feet landed on the bare metal floor. It was a welcome feeling only void born could know. Terra firma was ceremite and adimantium rather than any organic compound. He worked his fingers into his closed eyelids. He let his hand fall to his legs and stood up. He briefly wandered over to his desk. It was cluttered optics and bionics that the magi had discarded. So far he had succeeded in disassembling and reassembling a basic optical piece and he was currently in the process of disassembling a bionic forearm, much like his own.

Elijah considered staying there for a moment. He could continue his deconstruction in the familiar cool of his room. For a moment he almost did. In what had been almost four minutes by Elijah’s reckoning, he had forgotten about the injuries to his body. But the thought of staying here alone sent a fresh wave of pain through his left arm. The psycho-stigmatic injuries had been worse for him there. Auratus Salvator had almost had her left arm torn off by a gargant. The backlash through connection had given him green-stick fractures in two places. The medical personnel had set his bones back into place and aided the recovery with medical concrete. Now all that remained was bruises and an ache that kept him awake just as much as his own restlessness.

As he contemplated remaining alone, he knew the flare of pain in his arm for the siren call it was. , he knew the flare of pain in his arm for the siren call it was. Elijah’s tired, restless eyes closed and he smiled to himself. “I hear you. I’m coming.” With that Elijah quickly showered himself, although it did nothing to make him appear clean, and clothed himself in his simple Moderatii robes. He walked the familiar corridors until he reached the observation railings above the hive of activity that was the Mechanicum repair pit.

He arrived first, but as time wore on his fellow Moderatii arrived too. In the meantime he contented himself with re-running their most recent battle report, seeing if there was anything they could have done differently. There was, but the level of damage received remained largely unchanged regardless. Rusilay was organizing the replacement units for their support squads, as was his duty. He had seemed to struggle with it at first, but time had either eroded his compassion for the deaths he organised into neat tables and spreadsheets or he had found a way to bury those thoughts deep enough that he didn’t have to worry about them. Elijah was just glad that wasn’t his responsibility.

Suddenly Rusilay cried out and Elijah’s erratic finger movements stopped for a moment. Sarka was muttering a prayer to the Omnissiah. Elijah was no the most pious member of their cadre of Moderatii, but if it brought Sarka comfort to chant whilst Auratus Salvator was repaired, he would not begrudge him for it. Elijah’s eyes watched the repair work even as his fingers busied themselves on his data-slate. It made the pain worse to see Auratus Salvator in such a state, but it also made it better to see the limb he had felt being torn apart be restored. Even unhooked from the mighty titan, the empathic link they maintained allowed him to feel both her pain and her recovery.Rusilay asked how their recovery was going, noting that he still had occasional flare ups of pain in his neuro-imports. Sarka responded that his recovery was better than expected, but that he was not entirely better.

Elijah spoke whilst he continued to fiddle with the data-slate. “Well, the neuro-feedback snapped my arm in two places, but I bet you gathered that by the howling. The medics set the bone back in place with medical concrete but I still had to wear a cast for a week while the bones set firmly. That was torture! I could barely get anything done. And then even once the cast came off, it aches nearly constantly, meaning I still have trouble working for any length of time.” Elijah paused and looked fondly at the recovering form of Auratus Salvator. “Still, seeing the old girl recovering herself lifts my spirits. When she’s better, I’m sure I will be too.” Elijah paused again, this time unsure if he should continue. He was never quite sure on these things. “Speaking of shes and hers, what do you suppose our Mistress is learning?”
 

·
Registered
Joined
·
2,996 Posts
There was a phantom ache in her arm, and whenever she moved it, Isabelle imagined her bones creaking and cracking. Psycho-stigmatic wounds, abrasions and blisters, still covered her body - Where the Auratus Salvator had suffered damage - Though, they were fading with each day, the pain lessening. She was standing alongside Kaiden Talivera, a tall, narrow man with a golden half-mask over the right side of his face, one eye an inhuman purple, the other a watery blue. Other princeps where assembled - Antonius Grael and Keeva Bueh, who commanded the battlegroup's pair of Warlords, Rend Asunder and Hammer of the Emperor, respectively. The twins, Gideon and Maelon Toombs stood to their left, alongside Hessian Rym; all Reaver pilots, and theoretically, Isabelle's equals. Practically, however, they each outstripped and outranked her - Having led their engines longer, and more successfully, than Isabelle had lived.

She wore a body-suit of dark, sinuous material. Her hands were sheathed in bronze, silver and copper - Her fingertips curved and clawed, filled with sensory nodes, communication devices, heartbeat monitors, even an hololithic display. Her hair was long, blue, falling down her back in an untangled tumble. Isabelle licked her lips, turning her attentions to Midlais. Through the plexi-glass of the observation chambers, the planet could be seen, an horrid brown ball, splotched with purple stormclouds. She narrowed her eyes, folding her arms over her chest, and breathed through clenched teeth.

Ugly planet, ugly war, she thought. The electoo beneath her cheek flared and dimmed.

Antonius Grael began to speak, enticing the hololithic display into life with one mechanical paw. The screen readjusted, zooming in, and showed the cities of Midlais. They were huge, spired, glowing internally with forging fires.

Two words, of them all, piqued Isabelle's interest. Legio Ignatum - The Fire Wasps. They were as ancient and as honoured as the War Griffons, having warred during the Emperor's Great Crusade, and then waded through blood and molten metal during the Great Schism. It would be an honour, and a lesson, to serve alongside the Fire Wasps.

When Grael was finished, Isabelle stepped forwards, hands on her hips.

'Query: What is the disposition of the Legio Ignatum?' She canted, her electoo flaring. 'And the Xenos? What do we know of this infestation?
 

·
visit roleplay threads!
Joined
·
2,259 Posts
A strong picture of Isabelle always came to Rusilay's mind whenever someone mentioned their Princeps. Usually, it was the first time he had ever seen her, frozen in his tracks at her sheer beauty on the work decks as she came to observe the construction of a Titan still bigger than the one she now piloted.

Sometimes, he could have sworn he had…romantic emotions that swelled up for her, but the augmetics and chords strewn through his gut helped to curb such notions. It was easy to forget how old she actually was. Did it matter? He never felt such things while piloting the Salvator, since his back mounted modulator kept all of his chemicals balanced while connected to the machine's spirit. Only when he stood away from it, like this, did he get somewhat anxious at her name's mention.

"Hopefully some actual, specific, information on the number of Orks. Though, I know thats always hard to decipher. It would be nice to know how many Gargants we'll be seeing in the smog." he commented, in reply to Elijah.

"Seeing how long it took just to remove the Ork ships over this world...Is anyone else fairly glad we didn't get sent to Armageddon itself?" He asked, to both his fellow Moderati.
 

·
Registered
Joined
·
64 Posts
Sarka withdrew his own data-slate to review the damage the orks had done on the Auratus Salvator. He was confident that they would be seeing action very soon given. Little hints were dotted here and there on the requisition data given to them. If the repairs were given this much priority, more than the usual amount a God Machine would require, then it can be assumed that there need for it is implicit.

Of course this was all conjecture Sarka ruminated. He rubbed his chin as Rusilay continued the conversation on Isabella their princeps. Apart from their time working together to smite the foes of the Emperor he does not really know Isabella all that well. He however does know that she does her job well, despite the prejudice one might incur due to differences of experience, yet with great consistency as well.

“Hmm I do not think I would have minded Armageddon.” Sarka stated, “I would have liked to seen the Adeptus Astartes fighting with us.”

He slipped the data-slate back into his pocket.

“Though I do find it a bit unfair that a ramshackle Gargant built in a few months to a year could do this much damage or worse to a God Machine that takes decades to construct.” Sarka continued as he gestured towards the Auratus Salvator.

"However I think we might be seeing action sooner than expected don't you think?" he asked in turn.
 

·
The Emperor Protects
Joined
·
5,262 Posts
He had stalked into the observation deck alongside Acantha, always to her front and off to one side, moving across her to the other side as he deemed necessary. One could almost think he was a mere bodyguard from his actions, but even one glancing look would easily identify him as a princeps of the Legios The reality of the matter was that he simply could not leave the role of his engine behind. He was so close to his machine now, that his purpose outside of the cockpit was the same as within. To support Acantha, to scout ahead for her, find targets, identify threats. He cast cautionary looks at the other warhound princeps, only another two seemed to have developed the same nature as he, but even the commanders of the higher class titans were not beyond his scrutiny, he cared not for their seniority or status. Only she mattered.

His appearance at the best of times was of a man on edge, but after their last engagement it was somewhat exaggerated. The shield overload and resulting neural backlash still caused his body to spasm every so often, though it was not even almost as pronounced as before. His right arm, an augmetic of the Mechanicus highest standard, continued to feel like it was overheating, the plasma blastgun having come far, far to close to going fatally critical. He sent transmitted a query to Hesh and Persyne, inquiring as to the status of the diagnostics checks and to run secondary and tertiary containment protocols on the blastgun. He would not risk the Rex with another incident like that.

The briefing began, and with it he relevant data was transmitted to him instantly, starting to scroll and highlight itself for his augmetic eye to see, his human eye free to observe the planet beyond. It was ugly he supposed, in a brutal and toxic way, but then he never really truly appreciated planets after having been born in the void. Instead he focused on the information being relayed to him, relevant intel. The lay of the land, how much cover would it provide, how much would it conceal, would it be open and leave him exposed, or provide him with ample opportunity to scout ahead unnoticed? What about Acantha, he would be able to traverse areas she could not, how much would he be able to range ahead of her before becoming too separated.

When she moved forward to address the room, he moved with her, though now careful to remain behind her, showing deference to his princeps and commander. He was more concerned with her latter query. He respected their allies, but their position and disposition wasn't nearly as relevant as that of the enemy.
 

·
Premium Member
Joined
·
6,993 Posts
Discussion Starter · #11 ·
Dobesh, Cartillisto, and Halruus; Heavy footfalls forestall further discussion between the three of you. Turning around you see a massive figure, easily three meters tall, thickset with massive armoured plates bolted to the beings chest and arms. Both arms ended at the elbow, their weapon mounts disconnected while not readying for battle; two sets of mechadendrites snaking around in their wake. This was a praetorian, and none of you had ever seen one so close before; even without weapons it was an intimidating sight none-the-less.

As the praetorian neared you, it stopped and dropped down to one knee, the clanging of metal ringing in your ears. –I am battle-leader Thade-Rho of the Cigna clade- The praetorians integrated vox speaker boomed –I present myself before you, my command lords, and will in turn do so to your princeps-lord- Thade continued, the dome visor covering its head obscuring any facial features. –The Omnissiah praise this time, to remove the enemies of the Mechanicus from one of its holy worlds-

[As a battle leader, Thade has received neural augmentation to vastly increase its intelligence and cognitive response; used to direct the rest of the praetorians under its command. It would appear that Thade has knowledge of where or what you’re going to be seeing action against, might be a good chance to collect some information of your own.]


Hesh and Persyne; Quickly making your way from the Salvators main bay, you take a lift up to the transports central spine. Despite years on starships, coming to the central corridor still plays havoc on your body due to the distortion of artificial gravity. While the transports of the battle titans only house a single war machine, warhounds come two to a ship; one each to the ‘top’ and ‘bottom.’ Above you there are menials and servitors going about their business to maintain the ship, and for those not of the legio the sight would be a disorienting to say the least.

Walking down the corridor, you make your way to the curved ‘wall’, gravity generators allowing you to continue along the wall as if it were the floor. Taking a service lift set into a stone pillar , you descend eight levels and come out into a tertiary mess hall. Known as ‘the hole’ by those of the crew not heavily augmented, it was known for being one of only three locations on the entire ship where any form of liquor could be found. More than that, the hole was a preference for the moderati in transit.

Already the moderati of Wolfsbane sat at a table on the far end of the room, the older of the pair waving you over. “How go the final repairs on the Rex?” Rasped Cyrus Brigeen, a youth who had had that very thing stolen from him three years ago when the side of Wolfsbane’s cockpit has taken a glancing blow from an Eldar sonic weapon. Glass had peppered his face, nearly causing the man to bleed out before they had made return. The other was Agatha Ynlou, a senior moderati who had refused advancement to princeps more than once, if the rumours about her were true.

[Wolfsbane marks the second warhound of your battle group, led by the battle titan Auratus Salvator under Isabelle Acantha. Unlike the Rex or Salvator, Wolfsbane only received light damage]


Acantha and Talivera; A senior princeps is known for being fairly emotionless unless such a thing suits the needs of those around them at the time. But for those who know what to look for, nothing can be hidden; it is from this that you see the tightening of Graels jaw, the prelude to him closing his eyes and sighing. Opening his eyes, Grael placed his mechanical hand on the hololith and a light flash of information passed along his eyes. The image of Midlais vanished and in its place a visual recording, one that could only have come from the pict feeds of a titan, sprang to life.

“This was sent to me from one of Ignatum’s high princeps, it is the final feed of King’s Fury,” those last words causing an intake of breath from several of the oldest amongst the group. “Before communication with Hal forge was lost, they confirmed that none of Ignatums titans returned.” And with that, Grael depressed a rune and the feed began.

A bleak landscape of orange-brown flatlands, irregular mountains billow smoke in the far distance and a purple and black storm raged on the horizon. Ahead of Kings Fury is eight more engines, three reaver class titans and five warhounds; ranged beyond that are the ramshackle forms of close to two dozen Ork stompas, walkers ‘standing’ anywhere between the size and class of a knight titan and a warhound. In addition to them are two gargants, massive constructs usually bedecked with weapons that defy all forms of logic. One of them fits the usual sight, but the second has its entire right side dominated by metal protrusions and antennae.

The pict skips forward, the warhounds are engaging the stompas, shields lighting up in shades of amber and viridian while the reavers position themselves to unleash their guns. The gargants dominate the view of Kings Fury, the altered one halted as it appears to be building energy.

Another jump, two of the warhounds are done, surrounded by five wrecked stompas. The reavers have engaged the first of the gargants and Kings Fury unleashes a devastating blast, wiping another stompa off the planet. The second gargant unleashes the energy it had been building, a beam of multicoloured light flashing forward and impacting on the Fury. Static washes over the pict, and the image jumps in and out; what is going on is hard to tell, but one of the last images appears to be a hellstorm cannon firing at the back of a reaver, the next is a mushroom cloud where the reaver had been and then everything washes away in static.


“Ignatum has no force left on Midlais, their forces consist of several hundred thousand greenskins and at least the remaining engines you all just saw.” Princeps Bueh said at the picts conclusion. “It is the fear of all that the Orks will have bolstered their strength with the remaining engines they defeated, and Emperor alone knows what they did to Kings Fury.”

[Acantha is aware of Kings Fury, a warlord titan of four thousand years and whose pilot was the blood son of one of Ignatum’s high princeps, a select few who lead their legio. That such a venerated engine has been lost, and the images you saw being what they are, things are grave indeed.]
 

·
visit roleplay threads!
Joined
·
2,259 Posts
Rusilay was about to respond to Sarka, in agreement. However, all notions of small talk were deflated as a cacophony of armor and mechanical augmetics made self abruptly apparent.

The bending of the knee and its clang upon the floorboard, the bell toll of loyalty and obedience. The presence of such being, all three of the moderati waited for the Praetorian to finish speaking before reacting.

Being responsible for the ranks of Skitarii and praetorians that followed the Salvator into battle, Rusilay hastily looked around to his fellow moderato, before covering a false cough with his fist and stepping forward to speak first.

He felt rather ashamed, suddenly, that he had never been this close to one of these warriors. He had seen them die, far, far below without ever having been graced by their shadow.

Yet, they died under the Salvator's shadow with every new battle.

Something fluttered over Rusilay's eyes for a moment as he realized what this Thade-Rho of the Cigna clade must have thought about him, being one of the pilots of a God Machine.

"It is an honor to to meet you, Thade-Rho," He was embarrassed to continue, not sure if this individual was new to the Titan's contingent or not. He wanted tot ale his data slate back up and scroll through the ranks to find out, but stopped himself.

He had a lot of experience in speaking with members of the Mechanicus, and liked to think he had learned how to communicate with them well.

"And Princeps Acantha will appreciate the introduction as well, I am sure."

Not having any facial expressions to go off of, always made conversations difficult.

"We all look forward to cleaning this world of the Ork menace," he continued, hoping his fellows would nod their heads with him."That is without doubt."

"Tell me, if you will, before making your way to the Princeps, what information have you gathered on the mission ahead?"
 

·
Closet Dictator
Joined
·
3,435 Posts
Sorry for the late reply!

Hesh and Persyne made their way down to the "hole" an unsanctioned but overlooked bar/food hall/hang out area, what happened in the "hole" stayed in the "hole". Hesh swallowed hard keeping his bile down as his stomach lurched when they transited through the artificial gravity field. "Ughh, I cant wait to get a drink, and as it is my turn to get them in Persyne, I shall be choosing the finest bottom shelf rot gut the "hole " has to offer, no need to thank me! Ha!"

As they entered the bar casually discussing the merits of the various spirits on offer and their ability to clean and unclog axel grease they noticed the crew of the Wolfsbane and joined them. Answering Brigreens inquiry Hesh said" the repairs are excellent Cyrus, thanks for your concern, a full system blow out, so everything had to be stripped out! Not a hard fix it just takes so long to do the system checks, and it does not help with Kaiden being in an absolute foul humor, he is taking it a bit too personal!"

Hesh called over a young woman who worked in the "hole" as a bar girl/cook/cleaner earning her passage on the ship like so many imperial citizens looking for new life elsewhere "two shots of the bottom shelf please Inga and whatever these lucky two are having and one for yourself" said Hesh gesturing toward Cyrus and Agatha, "So" said Hesh making himself comfortable "how is the paint work on the Wolfsbane? You lock horns well outside your tonnage and come away with barely a scratch, I have seen tech seers and adepts fawning all over your engine! So we've been busy, whats the "good word" about the ship?
 

·
Irn Bru 32!
Joined
·
1,436 Posts
Erinyes looked down at the small glass of which he presumed he was engine grease, ultimately loathing the thought of consuming it. He looked over at hesh, who was chatting to the crew of wolfsbane about the recent repairs made to their titan after the damage done during the last conflict. Just thinking about it sent a twinge of pain through his head as he remembered the deconnection from the canis rex after they took a hit. To counter the pain he threw back the so called drink, bad decision, the drink was thick, bitter and foul tasting.

"ugh... hesh, how do you manage to find this stuff?." he said gagging, trying to keep it down. Why cant you just get amasec like a normal person?."
 

·
Closet Dictator
Joined
·
3,435 Posts
@darkreever can i do a supplemental post here just to tie up the conversation with nacho?

Hesh turned to Persyne, "this drink is high proof and mostly unrefined and can clean and degunge import jacks within the tolerances of wear and tear in the manual! Cant do that with amesec, and as human beings are just bio mechanical machines it would stand to reason it would do the same for us, and after our last engagement I could do with a degunging!" Hesh continued to extol his theories as the spirits he drank took quick effect" of course my friend there is no scientific evidence to support this but as we know from our mechanicum teachings scientific theory is at best a lazy alternative for techno archeology and at worst heresy!!" Hesh grinned at Persyne as he finished his little friendly rant "so you see my friend this is just good maintainance!!, next time we are here we can grab an amesec okay" he said slapping Persyne on the shoulder
 

·
Registered
Joined
·
2,996 Posts
Isabelle listened, noting the blatant displays of emotion on Grael's face, the tensing of his jaw, the closure of his eyes. Most curious, she thought, sniffing. Metal and oil, that's all the vessel ever stank of, and sometimes beneath it all, the tang of sweat. The display ahead flickered and distorted, and Isabelle was once again staring out of a Titan, the venerable and vaunted King's Fury, of the Legio Ignatum. Isabelle knew the name, and she knew of the Princeps, a blood-kin, a son to be exact, of another Princeps within the Legio.

Alarmingly, there were a pair of Gargants, mountains of metal and wire, abhorrent mimicries of the Omnissiah's Titans. Isabelle's lips peeled back, distastefully, when she realised one of them was different. The thing's right side was a forest of antennae, flickering nodes and strange, metal protrusions. What manner of beast are you?

The screen switched, the King's Fury marching onwards, towards the Gargants, determined to score a kill, to slag their armour. Around it, nimble Warhounds and hunched, feral Reavers were taking up their positions, weapons whining into life. It was a sight that Isabelle had witnessed a hundred times before, one that she had felt and heard and smelled, it was one that despite her ascendancy to the command of a Reaver, Isabelle still longed for. It excited her.

Once again, the screen changed, and this time Isabelle scowled. Titans were down, their hulls ruptured and smoking, their paint scoured away by atomic blasts. She grated her teeth, and then watched in abject horror, as the Gargant fired and struck the King's Fury. Static flashed across the screen, a series of strange, distorted images taking place of the clear, defined one that they had been watching. Was that an Imperial Titan, firing at another, she wondered, tense.

Once again, Isabelle stepped forwards. 'Query: Are we to salvage or dismantle the captured Engines?'
 
1 - 16 of 16 Posts
Top