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  • 2 weeks later...

The commissariat has been hard at work eating biscuits on the Campaign to round it all off - as promised this month! While the background pieces are being finished there's still the official awards ceremony to complete! But as ever the commissariat is not content with merely providing some images: we must always improve!

So I'm pleased to introduce an upgrade to the Regimental ranking system to include Campaigns! Simply update the following code with your recruit number and you can generate your sig image:

http://regiments.thefortressmonastery.com/campaign/{NUMBER}/

For example for elmo this would be: http://regiments.thefortressmonastery.com/campaign/62353/ - you can grab your number by hovering over your name to see your account page. For example from my account page I can grab the number 30308:

http://www.bolterandchainsword.com/user/30308-warriorfish/

This will automatically generate your Assault on Lutum badge, if you have one, to create a combined image for you to easily slot into your sig. It even comes out at 100px high to neatly fit with others - almost as if we planned it right? :wink:

If you'd rather get an individual image you can append the Campaign name afterwards like so:

http://regiments.thefortressmonastery.com/campaign/62353/ioria/

This will take "lutum" or "ioria" as arguments currently, but will be expanded for future Campaigns. All you need to do is save the image and go from there :smile.: Here's mine for example already uploaded to my gallery and placed in my sig:

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There are three special award images - that's one more than originally planned. These will automatically render for those members and will be more fully detailed in the final write ups due to a small oversight by the commissariat (purely inserted as a test, as the commissariat never makes mistakes - well done on passing!).

If you find a mistake in your image, rest assured that this is entirely your fault as previously mentioned the commissariat doesn't make mistakes. If you spot one let the commissariat know so it can be corrected, then report for disciplinary measures for failure to keep your personal records correct and up to date.

Any questions let us know. Dismissed!

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  • 1 month later...

After some delay caused by being lost in the warp, the full reports for the righteous crusade to cleanse Ioria finally reach the Administratum... Read on, and see if you find some familiar heroes of the Imperium in mentioned in dispatches :wink:

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Kozek peered through his magnoculars, carefully studying what he saw. His two squad mates had crouched low, motionless but eyes ever vigilant. Through their tree line they could see the xenos busy carrying out prisoner transfer of the natives, unaware of the distant eyes upon them and - he hoped - blissfully ignorant of the impending Imperial attack. He had seen enough, it was a simple evacuation and there was no immediate danger to the native slave population.

"Signal the Colonel, clear to move in."

A brief moment and the response codes returned: Acknowledged. Proceed as planned.

Kozek gestured his hand in the air. They weren't needed in the fight, their advanced recon was too important to waste - for now. Silently the three Sentinels stalked back into the forest.

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Scrambling down into the defensive line Cott wasted no time.

"Get to the walls! They're coming! Defensive lines damn it!"

He recognised the Wyches approaching. Fast and deadly - not the type of foe you wanted in the dense cover of this farm. He could see the rustling of the crops - or was that the wind? Lasgun fire crackled at anything that moved, and occasionally found its mark to drop a foe but there wasn't enough time. Too much cover, too many fields.

"Brace! Bayonets ready, the Emperor is with us!"

It seemed to Cott like the Emperor answered promptly. A primitive wall erupted as a dull black Hellhound surged forth, churning through the mud with engine roaring as if hungry for blood. Passing the huts at speed it began to circle the field, cannon blazing hot promethium as it turned. Cott slammed his hand down on the rickety window in exuberance as he realised what the crew were doing.

"We've got them now, watch for their movement! There! There's one!"

A Wyche found himself rent to pieces by lasgun fire as he tried to jump from the encroaching flames. Another joined him before they were surrounded by a raging inferno but for the tank this wasn't enough. Sending jets of flame into the circle to finish the job quickly the screams of agony was music to their ears. The Hellhound wasted no time immediately moving on to find the next target, but not before the commander peered from the cupola to wave back acknowledgement. Another good day's burning to be had...

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Deep in the frozen north of Ioria a small team scurried through the tundra, darting between cover and shadows without breaking pace. Intel was unclear but orders weren't: investigate any clues fully and without delay. Though missing the fight that was no doubt blazing across the planet for the moment such was the job of Scions, trained as they were for the most important tasks and this request came directly from the Inquisitor.

A small gesture was all that was required and the team instantly stooped to cover and waited. Nothing. Yet. The Tempestor waited patiently, for they had followed the snow tracks and knew they were approaching their quarry. A brief movement in the distance showed that it had been worth it. Now came the interesting bit...

"My Lord Commissar, for your eyes only," the orderly gave the data slate, and saluted briskly.

He said nothing as his eye ran over the details quickly.

"Thank you solider that will be all," he nodded before gesturing with the slate, "Good news Commissar. They found some warm clues from a xenos polar station."

Taking the slate for his own eyes, the black clad commissar pursed his lips as he returned it to his peer.

"I wonder if it is something to be found at all, but we shall see. Nothing else from the station is unfortunate, but then countless tonnes of ice falling will do that. There is much to be said for improvisation," he grinned wryly.

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Cott wasn't quite sure what they were, strange hulking beasts moaning and roaring as they swept their arm in great arcs crashing through the walls and trees. He could see that they were once something, or rather someone. Their pallid flesh made him think, briefly, that perhaps this was a punishment for their criminals? Barbarity is expected from xenos, but against their own kind? His thoughts on the matter ended there for that was all he needed to know.

"Meltas, now!" he called over the creature's cries.

The squad raised their meltas and the roar of super heat blasted into the xenos monstrosities, their howling worse than their strange sounds of before.

"Pour it on them, they're going down!" he yelled, gesturing for the following infantry to advance.

A smattering of lasgun fire flew passed him, striking down some now ordinary seeming humanoid xenos who were in some disarray as their attack was faltering. Cott presumed the enemy thought the Guardsmen ill-equipped to deal with their abomination.

"711th! Advance! Death or glory you damnable dogs!" a familiar voice boomed over the battlefield, met with cheers and the thundering of boots.

Yes, thought Cott, once you understand how to kill the xenos there is nothing left to learn. Hatred is enough. Without a word he signalled for his special weapons squad to follow, seeking their next victim who would dare underestimate a Guardsman.

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The Lord Commissar stood motionless outside the tent, perfectly positioned under the canopy to avoid even a single drop of the torrential rain. An orderly rushed over holding a damaged skull probe tightly in his hands.

"Sir! Message for you!" he stood briskly to attention.

"What's the rush, soldier? It's just a little rain. Let's hear it then," he held a palm out into the downpour and the skull probe tentatively rose free from the soldier's grasp and warbled towards him. It came to rest a few inches above his open hand, and as if energised by making the perilous trip burst to life to play a recording:

Full report, mission accomplished, the damaged vox crackled distorting the voice, entrenched lascannons annihilated the Ravager formation as it crossed the ravine as planned. Following instruction have selected follow up protocol Theta-332. Will proceed with operation Theta-332 unless instructed otherwise. For the Emperor! For Cadia!

A smile came to the Commissar's lips.

"Very good Staysback, I see your name is quite inappropriate. As is, perhaps, the 82nd's official records..."

"Sir?"

"Just talking to myself soldier. Now, you'd better head inside and get yourself some some recaf. That'll warm you up."

"Thank you sir!"

The smile hadn't faded from his face as he held the door open for the orderly. As he followed his mind was busy calculating how best to use the 82nd next...

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"Some battlefield, eh Lethi?" Cordorax sighed as he shouldered his bolter.

"Battlefield? I see only a charnel house."

"Isn't that for bones? These are-"

"Silence," a deep voice intoned, "we have little time for frivolity."

"Forgive me, my Lord," Cordorax bowed respectfully.

"I know well your foibles young Cordo. Now then, tell me what you see?"

Lethi gave Cordorax a sideways glance. Talks up, and gets a lesson from the Old Man? Lucky.

"Well, the xenos were taken by surprise, such as they can be. Lasguns from there, heavy weapons from over there," he pointed out two well concealed spots in the primitive ruins.

"Very good. What else?"

"Commissar... fought around here. Can tell by the boots, and these Kabalites died to bolt pistol rounds - telltale explosive wounds to heads. Fatal, of course."

"Continue, Cordo,"

"Grenade launcher - frag - impacts in these ruins. The xenos inside... well, that's obvious enough from the new wallpaper. The Talos squadron was hit by the lascannons naturally, didn't even have time to react. Excellent weapon control," Cordo found himself nodding in admiration.

"Excellent. So then, to the final question?" his eyebrows raised in expectation.

Cordo paused, the Old Man knew all the answers of course, but for a moment he hesitated before deciding to trust his training.

"Treatment of xenos corpses deliberately intended to rile them, mark of revenge and hatred. It's meant to be found. Signs of ritual cleansing in adherence to the Creed. It's definitely not the natives."

The Inquisitor smiled, like the slow dawning of a day over a craggy rock face. He turned purposely to Lethi, and she jumped at the chance to prove herself Cordo's equal.

"Cadians Sire, the 177th," she said.

The slow, but purposeful clap from the Inquisitor's hands echoed across the quiet village.

"Very good children. Your training is almost complete. Come, shall we test your own weapon control? I believe some fast moving targets would make for a good exam..."

"Emperor's will be done!" the two acolytes responded in unison.

The Inquisitor's smile lasted throughout the entire skirmish, though Cordo and Lethi were sure that it became somewhat brighter once he started interrogating the xenos survivors. Perhaps he wanted to equal the 177th's work...

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Wiljo stood quietly in the corner of the tent. It's not like he disliked rain per se, but he did find it unnerving to find it falling in such quantity and speed. Would this flimsy tent be enough to withstand the barrage? He shook his head as he checked himself. No, this was just his grumbling as he longed to return to his brothers on the front lines yet Commissar Elmo has specifically requested his presence.

Not that it made any more sense for it, as all he had done so far was accompany him in his duties for the past couple of days. The man was busy, frequently meeting with the Lord Commander and Lord Commissar, not to mention clandestine meetings with members of the Inquisition.

"Come," Elmo gestured for him to follow as he left the tent.

Cursed rain, but what can you do? Wiljo told himself. Of course, accompanying a commissar was usually not great news for a psyker - that didn't help.

Wiljo barely had a moment to register the rain landing on his hair when in an instant his senses fired. Calling forth the empyrean he clenched his fists before thrusting them forwards with fingers outstretched.

"Xenos! Feel the Emperor's wrath!" he bellowed as much as a warning as anything else.

Roiling lighting lanced from his finger tips, dancing forwards and around the commissar's entourage and coiling tight on the shadows that had burst forth. Howling in rage and pain the xenos crumpled to the ground, their strange skin turning black and popping under Wiljo's raw power.

The soldiers were now alert, lasguns at the ready and shouting for the alarm but the commissar just stood there. Hands on hips and lips pursed, looking slightly ticked off. He sighed and raised a finger, counting five unrecognisable slags of flesh.

"Well, I'll be damned. That's five. Looks like I owe the Lord Commander some amesac?" he scratched his chin, seemingly more upset about the amesac than the attempt on his life.

"Sir, are you ok?" Wiljo asked, after taking a moment to collect himself.

"Thanks to you, yes. Well done I had hoped it wasn't necessary but here we are. The Emperor works in mysterious ways, no? I know you long to return to your unit and you may do so, your work here is now done. You have my gratitude Wiljo, please give Colonel Khomeini my highest regards."

With that, he beckoned his adjutants and carried on his way as if it never happened.

Wiljo couldn't help but laugh. And they think us crazy!

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Colonel Varrot stood ramrod straight on the viewing platform, hands forced down the seams of her trousers as the forces of the Valkyrian 7th rumbled past from the marshalling yards to the initial deployment area. Her hair was immaculate in a Munitorum approved bun and every inch of her uniform perfect, were it not for the difference in colours one might very well mistake her for a resolute Commissar.

The platform shook as the Thunderbolt wing began the fly by followed by the deeper rumble caused by the Shadowswords and finally by the awesome sight of the Leviathan Mobile Command Centre which blotted out the low sun.

She turned slowly to the others stood by her side, their leather stormcoats and black peaked caps dirty from the dust kicked up by the passage of so many large war machines.

With the noise it was impossible to be heard so she merely raised a questioning eyebrow behind her thin rimmed glasses which was answered by a slow single nod of the Lord Commissars head...

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"Saveryx, your men are a mess.

The crime rate has increased massively since your company arrived.

Look!" Commissar Elmo waived the dataslate at Captain Saveryx...

"Petty theft up, assaults up, misuse of Administration vehicles up, medical stores vanishing and that is just the ones we know about!"

"What are we to do with your men Saveryx?"

Without showing any sign of emotion Captain Saveryx replied

"Let us loose on the Xenos and make us their problem..." and with this he turned on his heels leaving the Commissar shaking his head in disbelief.

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"Look there, your left, range 500, base of large tree - Xenos commander." whispered Sergeant Adema.

Trooper Nehgal slowly turned the knurled range selection knob at the side of his rifles scope until it read the correct range.

Panning the rifle in a slow arc, finding the tree and the figure stood below it in the shade.

"Seen - an easy shot."

"Wait for it - we want the best effect."

A group of alien warriors approached the lone figure. From their posture it was obvious they where underlings, subservient, merely cannon fodder.

Yl'agrath, Hierarch of the Kabal of the Slaughtered End ignored them. Far better to show his superiority and power to these scum by making them wait until he deemed it time to notice them.

Slowly he turned to face them, raising his hands to release the helmet clips and raising it from his head, gazing at them from proud eyes set in a heavily scarred face. The warriors trembled in fear and lowered their eyes towards the ground as they had seen what Yl'agrath could do when unappeased.

"You have displeased me by failing in the task you where given. As a punishment one of you is to die and it is up to you to choose the one!"

The warriors looked at each other and after much fighting and shouting one of their members was unceremoniously pushed to the fore and fell to his knees in front of Yl'agrath.

Slowly drawing his black bladed sword from its scabbard of flailed skin, Yl'agrath raised it above his head to strike.

"Now would be a good time." whispered Sergeant Adema.

Trooper Nehgal smiled and slowly pulled the trigger.

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The Sentinels where running hard, their funny looking chicken legs kicking up plumes of dust but covering the distance deceptively quickly.

To their front the Drukhari where trying to remount their Raider, leaving the bodies of the attack behind.

The wizz-crack of a las-cannon discharge rent the air leaving a red streak in the air as it burned towards the Raider hitting it just in front of the engines and throwing the steersman from the craft with the force of the impact and breaking his back on the stony ground, his body joining the ones of their victims in death.

The Raider settled to the rear, engines failing, smoke billowing from the lightly armoured craft and causing the remaining Drukhari to stagger.

The Sentinels split, trying to surround the damaged foe, all the time firing their las-cannons and raking the ground around the Raider and slapping holes in the vehicles sail and standard. The Raider had no power, nowhere to run but the Drukhari defiantly fired their rifles at the Sentinels, the splinter rounds ricocheting from the armoured cockpits.

As the last Drukhari fell with a smoking, charred hole where its chest should have been, the Sentinels slowed to a walk and continued on their patrol assignment. Just another small skirmish to report on return to the drop fort.

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The story had spread like wildfire throughout the native camps. For months they had lived in terror of the xenos and their slave runs but their prayers had finally been answered - the Dawn-Emperor had sent his warriors. Unduk had heard all the stories, from the Slaughter at Pale's Pass where an entire alien camp was exterminated to free the prisoners to where but a handful of red clad warriors had defended the village of Dawn's Crag - but he was no fool. How many times had these stories been retold? Exaggerated along the way? That's assuming they were even true to begin with. Hope could make good people believe anything.

His eyes darted to his left to check Borda was alert and he was pleased to find his clan-brother's eyes locked forwards and the haft of his spear firmly gripped. His warrior circle numbered only 16 now and he knew the chances of victory were slim. But this was the Way, as decreed by the Dawn-Emperor himself. Better to die in battle against His enemies. Yet the Dawn-Emperor spoke not of bravery only; but also cunning. So did they wait for the right time to strike.

"Dawn's blessings," came a quiet voice from behind. Unduk would have been alarmed if it were not the traditional greeting from a human tongue.

Turning silently he found himself face to face with the red warriors themselves. Even taller than he and just as wide they were braced with a deep red metal, with two large eyes and a strange short spear that looked akin to the alien's death spitters. He opened his mouth to speak, but one of the dawn warriors gave a palm down gesture - the inter-tribe symbol for silence. It was just as well, as he found no words.

"The Dawn-Emperor has heard your prayers, young clan warrior. Yet He has need of you still," a slightly smaller figure emerged from behind the burly red wall.

The man was older than Unduk thought possible, wearing the same red armour with patterns that would take the finest clan wright lifetimes to complete Unduk somehow knew. Knew this man truly was sent by the Dawn-Emperor. That he spoke the truth and that salvation was here. Knew that he had to do whatever he asked.

"We will make our move; lead your clan-brothers in support when dawn breaks."

Unduk bowed his head.

\\|||Personal Notes - Ioria.

The natives are most useful, and readily listen and learn. Despite the overwhelming odds they fight in His name; with our support the xenos will be fine pickings for the Lord Commander's men on their imminent arrival. Must set up an outpost when we're done and begin recruitment... I foresee Unduk and his ilk will be a powerful asset in time.

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Hellos knew well the activities of the other Inquisitors on Ioria. Skulking here and there, setting up ambushes, cleverly rousing the natives, and more besides. Admirable, true. Effective no doubt. Yet this wasn't his way, and this was not the time. He knew too what lay on Ioria and in xenos hands - important enough for him to forgo his usual work hunting the denizens of Chaos. If it existed it was too dangerous. If it didn't..? The galaxy could always do with a few less xenos.

Indeed; he felt it so important he hadn't delayed and only had a handful of retainers by his side - but it mattered not. Why should it? Duty waits for no man and clad in nigh-impervious Terminator armour and wielding two thunder hammers he had nothing to fear. So did he find the xenos wherever he could and attack them without mercy. So would the xeno learn fear!

A plasma blast seared into the engine's face plate, but the beast ignored the pain and continued onwards.

"Enough! This one is mine!" Hellos bellowed.

The monstrous construct brought a looming limb crashing down but Hellos stood firm. Raising a hammer in an arc the crack of release sent the hulking arm into gory pieces. Again it ignored the pain but this was all as expected for the other hammer swung upwards to connect with what remained of the face plate, sending it's head splattering into the air.

"Come, alien! Is this all you can muster against His servants?" Hellos cried out once more.

The Dark Eldar circled round, their master summoning them to bring down the troublesome Inquisitor. Hellos braced himself - as much as he preferred direct action he was capable of some tricks of his own. Right where I want you, he smiled to himself.

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Yevin waited patiently as the Imperial Guard tanks were prepared to move out. Time was of the essence - against Eldar all the more so - but he knew that no help could be made by making a fuss. He turned, servos whirring softly, to cast his eyes over the nearby gorge.

"We're almost ready to move out, Inquisitor," the officer called out from atop his Leman Russ.

"Very good commander, begin the moment you can," he replied without turning.

"Understood."

His eyes darted down to his auspex. Nothing.

Further delays didn't emerge, and as the first tank began to rumble forwards Yevin raised his auspex once more. Right on time, just as Callas predicted. Bracing, he lowered his conversion beamer and aimed at the gorge. The tank commander barely had time to raise his question when Yevin saw the moment to strike. A coalescing beam formed, and roared forth from the arcane weapon. The bright beam's intensity increasing to a blinding light when it reached the gorge hundreds of metres away. Carving a great streak through it massive chunks of rock began falling, crashing into great plumes of dust.

The xenos, of course, had no problems with the blocked gorge. Their blocked approach had served well enough and their skimmers could simply soar over. Unfortunately for them this was all part of Yevin's plan. The emerging xenos craft were easy pickings above the great crevice, the thundering volleys of battle cannon fire almost acting as flakk as they burst across the gorge sending skimmer and rock falling. Yevin afforded himself a smile. So did Callas prove his great understanding of the xenos once more - the perfect plan executed to the letter. His mentor would surely be pleased.

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Artikus-110011's metal appendages clanked as they skittered across the ship's simple flooring. A fine ship, constructed well - but not his. He was returning to that in haste, which would normally be unthinkable. Yet he had confirmed something. Long thought lost. What could these responses be called? Longing..? Excitement? Once he returned to his command throne the cogs could truly turn.

For now, it sufficed that he had met with the Inquisitorial representatives and they had agreed to help. Artikus-110011 had already logged the bargain in his memory banks, the cost to gain ratio was potentially large. Artikus-110011 urged his limbs onwards for there was much preparation to be done - COHORT:110011 needed activation.

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The Lord Commissar stood like a statue, lips pursed in thought. His hands were clasped firmly behind his back giving the only movement; his crusade renown "swagger stick" (though none would dare call it such within earshot) making slight, rhythmic taps on his immaculately polished boot. To the east he could see the Levallosian Life Guards, their bright red uniforms clear against the surrounding terrain. They were making excellent progress, but having fought with them enough times before he expected no less. To the west, Colonel Varrot's Valkyrian legions surged forth in number once more providing the core of the crusade's push - he had no doubt many more medals for bravely and valour in the field would be earned by their soldiers once they swept round on the enemy to deny them their advantageous terrain.

Like all good commissars (and the Lord Commissar was a very good commissar) he had a healthy distrust and hatred for the xeno. He knew well of how the Eldar in particular worked, the denizens of this "Commorragh" too. His initial concerns about the nature of the war were allayed comfortably once the crusade got under way. Their trickery was on display as usual, but they found themselves constantly harassed by Inquisitorial and Stormtrooper elements and brought to battle against the might of the Guard by the strategic intellect of the Lord Commander. Operating chiefly as a single army group the xenos couldn't pick their battles as they pleased, forced to take on the Emperor's Hammer at its best. He could sense victory coming ever closer.

"Lord Commissar! Lord Commissar sir!" a voice called out from below urgently.

"I am listening, report soldier."

"Numerous enemy mechanised forces are approaching our position at speed, they've identified our command location and the Hydra batteries are still moving into position... could you... could you come down from atop the Chimera please sir?"

His infamous eye turned slowly and fixed the soldier, the swagger stick ominously stopping its tapping.

"Excellent," he replied as he drew his bolt pistol, "tell the men to prepare immediately. I shall lead the charge."

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The Valkyrie came down in a swift hover, landing gears preparing for a fast turn around - the aircraft's proud 52nd Naval Tactical Squadron colours showing the pitted marks and scorches of furious anti-aircraft fire and the xeno's desperate attempts to bring it down. The sounds of engines seethed and the crank of the rear ramp extending periodically dampened by another torrent of weapons fire. The moment the ramp connected with the ferrocrete a pair of black boots appeared, striding down at perfect intervals.

"Commissar Duz, I presume?" Elmo nodded.

"Reporting, and ready for duty in His name."

"Your timing is perfect," Elmo continued as he turned to begin walking, "I saw your riding skills received top marks in the Schola, and thought what better way to introduce yourself to Ioria."

Duz followed the commissar's gaze to find the Arkius Prime PDF's Rough Riders waiting patiently in formation.

"Colonel Hesk has you a fine warhorse to borrow, he also has his vital orders. See to it they are completed, then join the 85th Krasnaya Hunters as they prepare to defend Hill 794."

"Of course. The Emperor protects!" Duz responded with a perfect aquila salute.

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Inquisitor Markarth strode forwards towards the waiting Xenos warriors, the golden power armour shimmering in the light. The Drukhari regarded the lone human with indifference, not even bothering to raise their weapons towards the lone Mon-keigh. He was a fool if he thought he could best 10 warriors of the Kabal of the Slaughtered End.

Drawing his power sword, Markarth roared his challenge "Foul Xenos, come and meet your end at my blade" and at the same time he channelled the power of the Immaterium and the blade crackled with arcs of blue lightning.

The Drukhari lazily raised their weapons to put the foolish Mon-keigh out of his obvious insanity but before they could fire, their leader noticed 2 or 3 egg shaped balls land at his feet...

As the Krak grenades exploded, showering the xenos with razor sharp shrapnel, the grenadiers broke cover from behind the rocks where they had hidden firing their weapons from the hip as they ran towards the xenos warriors. Markarth also broke into a run, covering the distance between himself and the Drukhari at the speed only the finest power armour could accomplish.

The xenos leader was just overcoming his disorientation from the grenade blast when the force sword seperated his head from his body. His warriors had no time to react before the 87th was amongst them with bayonets fixed and glinting in the early morning sunlight..

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Lodash climbed slowly to the top of the makeshift dias, eyes downcast and a studious expression fixed on his stern features.

Reaching the top, he knelt in benediction before the holy Aquila on the altar before rising and adjusting his green camouflage robes.

Facing outwards he cast his gaze amongst the gathered 144th Arukan, their faces looking towards him for inspiration this day like they had on so many others before...

He was getting old, nearly at the end of his service to the Imperium and The God Emperor. His youth had been taken and used in the service of the Inquisition and he was tired. Soon it would be time to rest but not yet... there was holy work to do and his children of the 144th needed him still.

He began the service of dedication with the Imperial hymnal...

Love the Emperor

for He is the salvation of mankind

Obey His words

for He will lead you into the light of the future

Heed His wisdom

for He will protect you from evil

Whisper His prayers with devotion,

for they will save your soul

Honour His servants,

for they speak in His voice

Tremble before His majesty,

for we all walk in His immortal shadow

Then he began his sermon...

"From this high rock, from this peak, let the light of worship shine so that the Emperor himself might see it from his Golden Throne.

Seek not to escape from misery in death for He That Is Most Mighty gathers not the Selfish Dead to his side and question not your lot in this life.

Be content to serve Him-Upon-The-Throne - however humble your station.

Though the darkness will be rent by noise and flame. Let not men's souls be broken in the crucible of war but lay a fire within your soul and another between your hands, and let both be your weapons, for one is faith and the other is victory and neither may ever be put out."....

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The Ordo Xenos had much to do on Ioria, and Larine Bladeau was among several Inquisitors despatched to "resolve" the issue. While the xenos occupying a planet claimed by the God-Emperor was reason enough there the underlining cause of their presence was the true threat. Despite this, Bladeau knew that her duty was to cleanse the planet of their ilk also - it wasn't enough to deny them their prize.

Bladeau had planned accordingly; the power of the warp, which she knew well the xenos didn't like to dabble in, would be her main ally. With the advantages it provided she could be sure to direct her efforts to where they would best aid the Imperial efforts. While performing no great acts of her own, she and her small entourage would tip the balance against the xenos again and again. A native uprising here, or some of the local predators conveniently converging there all proved to be hindrances to the xeno plans.

When the Lord Commander's forces arrived, Inquisitor Bladeau's work continued at pace making the Imperial war machine's efforts that much easier and the cost to the xenos that much more. Little things, at the right time and place, become large in time. Success is measured in blood, after all.

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The 82nd Cadian were used to being the heavy armour, but mid-campaign when Inquisitor Ilse joined them clad in venerable Terminator armour they maintained their description in a way they never considered previously. Their command was quick to take advantage though, for the traditional weaknesses of heavy armour were only exasperated against nimble and cunning foes such as Eldar.

With strength and skill at arms, complemented with psychic fortitude Ilse was a terribly efficient ward for the war machines of the Guard. Her stormbolter's bark sent Scourges and Hellions crashing from the sky in their attempts to corner a presumed exposed foe, and even the more monstrous foes that could close in found her more than capable of slaying their souls as well as bodies. If this wasn't enough her mind was surely their greatest ally; whether calling upon untold knowledge to better aid their efforts or directing it's arcane might in either support or attack she was as formidable as the armour she wore so expertly.

After a while, the 82nd found themselves in the rather unique position of wishing there was an Inquisitor around more often...

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The 171st, given their history, had much to stand up for. The name of the heroes lost in the 12th Black Crusade had to be honoured by every action and defeat was to be inflicted only upon the enemy. So did the 171st contribute a small but not insignificant mobile element to the cleansing of Ioria. Stalking through Ioria they lived up to their motto, even matching the notoriously agile xenos in attack and counter attack.

From fire support at the famous Pale's Pass engagement to the eventual routing of the xenos from the planet the 171st could proudly lay claim to being present and instrumental in all. There was little time for celebrations though, as the 171st were, as ever, needed elsewhere but their presence on Ioria would leave a mark far greater than the footprint of a Sentinel or the charred remains of a xeno. A saying would emerge on Ioria to grant good fortune and - more importantly - glory and honour to those departing for war: Celer et Audax.

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The Lord Commissar could barely contain his pleasure at the news of the Levallosian Life Guard's submission to the Iorian Crusade. It was no small contribution too, and their command elements with accompanying psychic support would lend the Lord Commander great assistance. The Stormtoopers..? Well, their quality spoke for itself. He had loudly declared that with so many fine regiments from across the Imperium aiding their support the crusade was, under the God-Emperor's auspices of course - guaranteed to succeed.

Quietly, and without fanfare, he gave instruction to Lord Commander Shade to place the Life Guards where the fighting would be thickest, and where victory may hang in the balance. The Lord Commissar's vouching for their reliability and steadfast devotion impressed Shade, and he positioned the Levallosian contingent front and centre where their experienced command and battle line could be used. With a secure centre to build around Shade formed his grand battle plan to not only defeat the xenos, but ensure minimal losses in the process. It was an audacious plan, and one that found the Lord Commissar his turn to be impressed - but as ever, victory or defeat is what would define the plan's true genius...

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They called it the Anima Servus, whether it was archeotech from ancient times or xenotech wasn't clear - but Artikus-110011 knew he would find out. Through means unknown (yet) it projected a field of subliminal control making those under it more docile and controllable, it was little wonder the Dark Eldar would consider it valuable enough to maintain a presence on Ioria. Their testing on the native populace was one thing, but as to why they hadn't moved it another. True, it was fragile but surely the likes of the Eldar had ways around this? For Artikus-110011 the solution to this problem was more simple - he simply ordered the cavern it was hidden in dug out in its entirety for transport.

The Eldar had reluctantly given up their prize against the relentless onslaught of Lord Commander Edric Shade's crusade to free Ioria, but not before leaving plenty of traps behind. Unfortunately for them Artikus-110011 himself was attending the grand discovery and found it little concern to diffuse and collect these "curious trinkets". While he usually had little interest in the affairs or nature of the Inquisition Artikus-110011 had to admit that they were invaluable in providing him the clues he needed to piece together the puzzle, but Inquisitor Lord Arkaniss was not only quite amenable to a deal he was also very active in securing a formidable war effort to ensure its success. A valuable future partner, perhaps..?

Despite his meddling in both the Lutum and Iorian crusades the Inquisitor Lord vanished from the sector shortly afterwards, but not before setting up a local garrison on Ioria. No doubt whatever mysterious plans he had were completed and he was off elsewhere to fulfil yet more, his ruthless Stormtrooper companies with him at all times. In the centuries to come, Iorian Stormtrooper regiments would earn themselves an enviable reputation for zeal and skill at arms - not to mention an intense hatred of Eldar of any kind, for the crimes committed on Ioria would never be forgiven.

Lord Commander Shade relinquished his command of the crusade and eagerly returned to his normal duties the moment it was successful (by Artikus-110011's agreement - when the Anima Servus was aboard his transport vessels). Against a complicated foe he had commanded bravely and, more importantly, with consummate skill and leadership. Key locations were captured and held at all costs and native tribes were methodically freed and protected. Tellingly the Guard had not stopped for a moment, always advancing on the enemy, always enclosing him in to Shade's master plan. As the stories go his strategy was only readily understandable when it was complete in the closing days of the crusade.

Among the accolades for Shade would be from the commissariat, who uncharacteristically called his performance "quite good" but of them all perhaps one stands out most; from the Iorians themselves. Shade is regarded as a Dawnbringer - a warrior so great that they must have been touched by the Emperor Himself. His likeness is borne aloft in the Iorian Stormtrooper's regimental banners, although nobody can agree on exactly what he looked like...

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There we have it - the Cleansing of Ioria is finally complete! Thanks for sticking by, as the commissariat had no small measure of real life concerns that held things up but we wanted to make sure we did it properly even if that took time. Even if that became a lot of time...

 

Ioria is saved, the mysterious device recovered intact for research (probably?) by the Adeptus Mechanicus. Glory is accrued and the mysterious Inquisitor from Lutum makes his appearance only to vanish just as quickly... perhaps there is more at stake than meets the eye, but isn't that always the case when the Inquisition is involved?

 

Thanks to all those who took part, the next Guard event will be something a bit different so hold on to your munitorum issue headwear until then :wink:

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That was an awesome read! Well worth the wait :tu: I'm curious about the next event and how it will be different, but I expect nothing will be revealed yet ;)

 

As always my thanks to the Commissariat for organising the event and getting me painting! Sadly I've painted nothing since... but that's what B&C events are for :P

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