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Blackthorn/Swordhand: FIREBREAK / A DYING WORLD

Deathwatch Roleplaying Game RPG Play by Post Commissar Molotov Blackthorn Kill-Team Blackthorn Fantasy Flight Games Kill-Team Swordhand Swordhand

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#1076
Commissar Molotov

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ROUND 7 CONTINUES

Solastion:
- All Out Attack against Brood Brothers A.
WS46 (+10 Frenzy, +20 All-Out, +10 Magnitude) = 19 (6DoS) 1 Hit + 3 Hits
= 4 Magnitude Damage (now at 10)


Tyber:
Damage as stated.
5 Magnitude to Brood Brothers A (now at 10)


Akkad:
Full Action: Run
30 metres (six squares) unless you activate Burst of Speed? If you do before I update the map I'm happy to include that.


Cultists 1:
All-Out attack against Atratus:
WS25(+20): 13 (HIT)
2D10+3 (Pen 0): 3 (6) - No Damage


Broodlord:
Half Action: Psychic Scream
All sentient living creatures within 20 metres suffer a hit that deals 1D10+8 Impact Damage to their head with the Shocking Quality. This damage ignores Armour, but not Toughness Bonus. Victims
suffers a –30 penalty to his Toughness Test to resist Stunning. If the Toughness Test is failed, the victim is stunned for 1d5 rounds.


Atratus: 10 (18) against TB8: 10 Wounds taken (now at 13/23)
Greysight: 10 (18) against TB8: 10 Wounds taken (now at 11/22)
Sabaan: 1 (9) against TB8: 1 Wound taken (now at 20/22)
Solastion: 2 (10) against TB10: 0 Wounds taken.

Atratus: Toughness 41 (+80 from Armour, -30 from Psychic Scream: 91): 42 (PASS)
Greysight: Toughness 42 (+80 from Armour, -30 from Psychic Scream: 92): 13 (PASS)
Sabaan: Toughness 48 (+80 from Armour, -30 from Psychic Scream: 98): 80 (PASS)


Nycax Sabaan:
Half Action: Aim
Half Action: Standard Attack against Broodlord
BS51 (+10, Range, +10, Aim, -20 Melee Combat): 43 (HIT)
Broodlord attempts to Dodge on AG60: 42 (PASS)


Brood Brothers B:
All-Out Attack against Tyber:
WS30(+20): 44 (HIT)
2D10+3 (Pen 0): 13 (16)
No Damage



ROUND 7 ENDS


 


Edited by Commissar Molotov, 08 February 2019 - 05:47 PM.

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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM) 
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1077
Mazer Rackham

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GM, thanks, Akkad will Burst of Speed it into the room.

 

MR.


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#1078
A.T.

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More brood brothers poured in to protect their master with their lives, the press of bodies threatening to force Atratus back. The broodlord watched with keen eyes, guarding itself as faint halo of energy formed about its head.

 

"Witchcraft!", Atratus's shouted warning a moment too late, drowned out by a scream that struck like an artillery shell blurring his vision, but at the centre of his gaze seemingly still in sharp focus was the opening that he had sought. Throwing aside the closest brood brother, his knife embedded in its skull, the Raptor surged forward leaving no caution or thought of defense in his attack, and jammed a krak grenade into the creatures carapace.

 

Already the brood brothers closed in around him closing off any escape but they were too late, the deed was done.

 

Spoiler

Edited by A.T., 08 February 2019 - 03:10 PM.

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#1079
Commissar Molotov

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ROUND 8 BEGINS

ATRATUS:
(A.T. - I am happy to discuss this in the OOC, but per the rules for Killing Strike on P.121 of the Core Rulebook, Killing Strike only appears to work as part of an All Out Attack, meaning it won't work with a Called Shot. I couldn't find anything in the Errata to alter this - unless you can?)
- Fate Point spend to recover health: +9 (now at 22/23)
- Fate Point spend to activate "Killing Strike".
(0 Fate Points remaining)
- Full Action: All Out Attack: 63 (HIT)
- Broodlord is unable to Dodge
- 31 Damage (Pen 6)
- Genestealer has TB12 and Armour 8(2): 17 Wounds sustained (now at -51)


Broodlord:
Full Action - 3 attacks (Lord of the Brood)
- Attack 1 against Atratus: WS67: 88 (MISS)
- Attack 2 against Atratus: WS67: 36 (HIT, 3 DoS - Razor Sharp)
- Atratus cannot parry (due to All Out Attack)
Rending Claws do 1D10+12 Damage Pen 10 (Razor Sharp): 7 (19)
Atratus has TB8 - 11 Wounds (now 11/23)
- Attack 3 against Atratus: WS67: 5 (HIT, 6 DoS - Razor Sharp)
Rending Claws do 1D10+12 Damage Pen 10 (Razor Sharp): 2 (14)
Atratus has TB8 - 6 Wounds (now 5/23)


Varvost:
Full Action: Charge against Brood Brothers A
AG test to activate Wings of Angels: (AG54): 1 (PASS)
WS67 (+10 Frenzy, +10 Charge): 25 (Hit, 6 DoS) - 1 Hit + 3 Hits
Hits Resolved at: 1D10+5(+SB10 +1D5 Wings of Angels +1 Wings of Wrath) Pen 3
Hit 1: 10 (RF:5) + 16 + 4 + 1 = 36
Hit 2: 7 + 16 + 1 + 1 = 25
Hit 3: 9 + 16 + 1 + 1 = 27
Hit 4: 7 + 16 + 5(RF:2) + 1 = 31
4 Magnitude Damage (Doubled by Whirlwind of Death to 8)
Brood Brothers A have 2 Magnitude Remaining


Greysight:
Semi-Auto Burst against Cultists 1 / Broodlord
BS45 (+10 SAB, +10 Range, +10 Bolter Mastery, +10 Magnitude) = 32 (5 DoS) - 3 Hits
Hit 1: Broodlord
Hellfire Ammunition is 1D10+9(+1), Ignoring Natural Armour: 6 (16)
Against TB12 and Armour 0: 4 Wounds (now -55)
Hit 2: Broodlord
Hellfire Ammunition is 1D10+9(+1), Ignoring Natural Armour: 10(RF:6) (26)
Against TB12 and Armour 0: 14 Wounds (now -65)
Hit 3: Cultists 1
Hellfire Ammunition is 1D10+9(+1), Ignoring Natural Armour: 5 (15)
Against TB3 and Armour 0: 1 Magnitude Damage (+1 extra hit from explosive) (now at 8)


Brood Brothers A:
All Out Attack against Solastion:
WS30(+20): 68 (MISS)






TURN SEQUENCE
ATRATUS | AG6+10 = 16 | WOUNDS 5/23 | FATE 0
BROODLORD | AG6+8 = 14 | -55
VARVOST | AG5+8=13 | WOUNDS -4/21 (24) | FATE 0
GREYSIGHT | AG4+9 = 13 | WOUNDS 11/22 | FATE 3
BROOD BROTHERS A | AG3+10 = 13 | MAGNITUDE 2
SOLASTION ALBIKUS | AG(3X2)+6 = 12 | WOUNDS 10/23 | FATE 0
TYBER | AG(4x2)+5 = 13 | WOUNDS 18/18 (19) | FATE 3
AKKAD | AG4+5 = 9 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3
CULTISTS 1 | AG3+3 = 6 | MAGNITUDE 8
NYCAX SABAAN | AG4+1 = 5 | WOUNDS 20/22 | FATE 2
BROOD BROTHERS B | AG3+1 = 4 | MAGNITUDE 10


Edited by Commissar Molotov, 08 February 2019 - 05:49 PM.

 
QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM) 
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1080
Slips

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As the Kill-Team sprung to life with renewed fervor, Solastion grinned devilishly behind his helmet as he came to the realization that his Warplate was all but proof to the feeble attempts to lay him low by the Xeno-Hybrids.

 

Turning to look upon the Broodlord, the Crimson Knight began wading through the yet-living, the dead or dying and the blood and viscera to make his way to the malign xenos intelligence that yet defied them by drawing breath; Atratus had taken some hard hits but was not yet done for and he wasn't going to lose another squadmate this day.

 

If he can, Solastion will charge the Broodlord; otherwise he will use whatever movement he can to get as close to it as he can and, if possible, get its attention so that it doesnt murder Atratus.

 

++Brother Varvost, for the Angel, we must bring that monstrosity down!++ he growled into the comms as he pushed his way through the masses of flesh.


Edited by Slips, 08 February 2019 - 03:04 PM.

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#1081
Steel Company

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Tyber used the back of his right hand to slam a one of the lesser beasts into the pillar with enough force to pulp its body, his way was now clear to the brood lord. He locked his chain sword behind his back, shifting to a two-handed stance with his arming sword while igniting his jump pack to charge at the beast.

 

OOC:

 

Charge action

TN: 64 (WS 54 +10 Charge)

Charge attack vs Brood Lord: 1d100 20 Hit with 4 DoS

Location: 02, head

Damage: 1d10+17 Pen 3

Arming sword damage: 1d10+17 26

Armour: 8 (5)

TB: 12

Damage taken: 9

Will switch stances to Feat of Strength, lowering turn order to 9 (4AGI +5 roll)

 

 

The hit was clean and thunderous, the armour of the brood lord cracked under the might. As the blade came down off of the strike Tyber released his left hand from bottom of the pommel, to re draw out of chain sword, ready for any counter strike.


Edited by Steel Company, 08 February 2019 - 06:18 PM.

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To all you Space Wolf Players... Its called a Razor and the Soap isn't a Daemon.
--Dremen


The Iron Hands, they are the real emo marines. Seriously. The Dark Angels aren't the ones who sit around cutting off bits of themselves, wearing black, and complaining about weakness and ennui...

--Octavulg

#1082
Commissar Molotov

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ROUND 8 CONTINUES

 

Solastion:

Full Action: Charge Broodlord

WS46(+10 Charge, +10 Frenzy): 8 (HIT) 

Broodlord attempts to Dodge at AG60: 29 (PASS)

 

Tyber:

Charge: 20 (Hit)

26 Damage (Pen 3)

Broodlord has TB12 and Armour 8(5): 9 Wounds Taken (-64)

 

 

QEKTcto.png

 

TURN SEQUENCE
ATRATUS | AG6+10 = 16 | WOUNDS 5/23 | FATE 0
BROODLORD | AG6+8 = 14 | -55
VARVOST | AG5+8=13 | WOUNDS -4/21 (24) | FATE 0
GREYSIGHT | AG4+9 = 13 | WOUNDS 11/22 | FATE 3
BROOD BROTHERS A | AG3+10 = 13 | MAGNITUDE 2
SOLASTION ALBIKUS | AG(3X2)+6 = 12 | WOUNDS 10/23 | FATE 0
TYBER | AG4+5 = 9 | WOUNDS 18/18 (19) | FATE 3
AKKAD | AG4+5 = 9 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3
CULTISTS 1 | AG3+3 = 6 | MAGNITUDE 8
NYCAX SABAAN | AG4+1 = 5 | WOUNDS 20/22 | FATE 2
BROOD BROTHERS B | AG3+1 = 4 | MAGNITUDE 10


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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM) 
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1083
Mazer Rackham

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Akkad stood over the eviscerated body of the shadowy slip of a figure.  He intended to search it in a moment, but had wanted to embed rounds into the Broodlord.  His Kin and the other Marines and...irritatingly placed masonry....blocked his shot.  He would cover them, as a Devastator Marine did.

 

Spoiler

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 08 February 2019 - 07:03 PM.

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#1084
Commissar Molotov

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ROUND 8 CONTINUES

 

Akkad: 

Full-Auto Burst against Brood Brothers B

12 Magnitude damage wipes out the Brood Brothers entirely.

 

Cultists 1:

All Out Attack against Tyber, Atratus and Solastion.

Against Tyber: WS25(+20) -

Against Atratus: WS25(+20)

Against Solastion: WS25(+20)

 

Nycax Sabaan:

Semi-Auto Burst against Cultists 1

BS51 (+10 Range, +10 SAB, -20 Melee Combat): 67 (MISS) 

FATE POINT spend to re-roll: 33 (HIT) (1 DOS) 

Hit 1: 1D10+9 (Pen 4): 8 (17)

Extra Explosive Hit: 1D10+9 (Pen 4):  2 (11)

2 Magnitude Damage (6 remaining)

 

ROUND 8 ENDS

 

 

 

TURN SEQUENCE
ATRATUS | AG6+10 = 16 | WOUNDS 5/23 | FATE 0
BROODLORD | AG6+8 = 14 | -55
VARVOST | AG5+8=13 | WOUNDS -4/21 (24) | FATE 0
GREYSIGHT | AG4+9 = 13 | WOUNDS 11/22 | FATE 3
BROOD BROTHERS A | AG3+10 = 13 | MAGNITUDE 2
SOLASTION ALBIKUS | AG(3X2)+6 = 12 | WOUNDS 10/23 | FATE 0
TYBER | AG4+5 = 9 | WOUNDS 18/18 (19) | Fate 3
AKKAD | AG4+5 = 9 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3
CULTISTS 1 | AG3+3 = 6 | MAGNITUDE 8
NYCAX SABAAN | AG4+1 = 5 | WOUNDS 20/22 | FATE 1

 

SoOmWMk.png


Edited by Commissar Molotov, 10 February 2019 - 07:23 PM.

 
QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM) 
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1085
A.T.

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The explosion of the krak grenade blew chitin and ichor across the room, the force of the explosion alone knocking several of the nearby brood brothers down. Somehow the patriarch still stood and fought on with renewed fury as it traded blows with the Raptor, it's claws leaving deep wounds but Atratus judged them non-critical, already his superhuman physiology working to staunch the bleeding.

 

Still he grimaced, not at the pain but the ineffectual nature of his attacks. His chainsword stuttered as the creatures ceramite-hard carapace and acidic blood took its toll. Ducking back as the broodlord turned momentarily to swipe at Tyber he braced himself against one of the pillars and ignited his jump pack in readiness for a new assault.

 

 

Spoiler


Edited by A.T., 09 February 2019 - 03:48 PM.

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#1086
Commissar Molotov

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ROUND 9 BEGINS
 

Atratus:

Two hits against Broodlord.

10 Damage to Broodlord (-75)

Assassin Strike away.

 

Broodlord:

Full Action - 3 attacks (Lord of the Brood)
- Attack 1 against Tyber: WS67: 8 (HIT)

Tyber attempts to parry on WS54(+10, Balanced Chainsword): 82 (FAIL)

Rending Claws do 1D10+12 (Pen 10) to 80 (Right Leg): 3 (15)

Tyber has TB8 and Armour 8(0): 7 Wounds taken (now at 11/18)

- Attack 2 against Solastion: WS67: 46 (HIT)

Solastion attempts to parry on WS46(+10, Frenzy, +10 Balanced): 65 (PASS) 

- Attack 3 against Tyber: WS67: 71 (MISS)

 

Varvost:

Half Action: Standard Attack against Brood Brothers A: 

WS67(+10 Frenzy) : 53: (HIT, 2DoS): 1 Hit + 1 Hit

2 Magnitude Damage - Brood Brothers are killed.

Half Action: Move 5m (doubled by Jump Pack) 

 

Greysight:

Semi Auto Burst against Cultists 1:

BS45 (+10 Range, +10 Bolter Mastery, +10 SAB, -20 Melee Combat): 4 (5 DoS) - 1 Hit + 2 Hits

3 Magnitude Damage (+1 Explosive): 4 Remaining

 

TURN SEQUENCE
ATRATUS | AG6+10 = 16 | WOUNDS 5/23 | FATE 0
BROODLORD | AG6+8 = 14 | -75
VARVOST | AG5+8=13 | WOUNDS -4/21 (24) | FATE 0
GREYSIGHT | AG4+9 = 13 | WOUNDS 11/22 | FATE 3
BROOD BROTHERS A | AG3+10 = 13 | MAGNITUDE 2
SOLASTION ALBIKUS | AG(3X2)+6 = 12 | WOUNDS 10/23 | FATE 0
TYBER | AG4+5 = 9 | WOUNDS 18/18 (19) | Fate 3
AKKAD | AG4+5 = 9 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3
CULTISTS 1 | AG3+3 = 6 | MAGNITUDE 2
NYCAX SABAAN | AG4+1 = 5 | WOUNDS 20/22 | FATE 1


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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM) 
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1087
Mazer Rackham

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He watched as his brethren duelled the beast.  It struck them mightily, but they did not yield and the warriors continued to attack it.  In a pause in the combat, after it lunged too far after it's third sweep, those deadly claws missing Tyber, it looked at him.

 

The distance was over 80 metres, but it felt like the abomination was pressed against the inside of his faceplate.  He thrashed Cadence around Wrathfully, his armour snarling at the sudden flare of anger, but he could not get a clear shot.  The yellow eyes bored into his, a malevolence there with matched with a burning hunger, a desire to absorb not everything on this world - just him.  It was maddening.  That the creature should recognise him was unthinkable - or at least that is how he fought the notion.  It had been nought but providence and the Emperor's beneficence that he had not compromised the mission.  The Patriarch had exposed a weakness though.  It's clawed left arm was wounded and hung lower than it should, which is why it had missed Tyber with the sweep.

 

Spoiler

 

He remembered his first words to Tyber after their fight.  Keep your left elbow up.

 

Spoiler

 

++ The Left elbow is too low, he's slow to the left! ++

 

"....you are known to ussss...." it said in mute reply, hatred glimmering in it's malign gaze.

 

++ Kill the bastard!  Kill it now! ++

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 09 February 2019 - 11:31 PM.

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#1088
Steel Company

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He had missed his parry against the beast and he rolled his body to the right to avoid the second strike.

+I will not fall to you beast.+ Tyber spoke over the external vox, this thing hit hard but he would not fall to it.

 

Again he stored his chainsword, switching to a two handed stance with his arming sword, taking a moment to center himself, this was going to be the deciding blow, an executioner’s strike. Putting the tip of the blade behind him and to the right, lowering his left shoulder as he presented a three quarters on stance to the best. That was when he saw it, a crack in the plates on the neck of the beast, his earlier blow had caused cracks, now one was clearly exposed, this was where he’d strike.

 

Gathering all of his strength for this one blow, he pushed off with his left foot, swinging his sword upwards to clear the path of it’s claws before he changed the direction of the blade to come down with all his might on that crack in the plates.

 

Spoiler

Edited by Steel Company, 10 February 2019 - 03:33 PM.

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To all you Space Wolf Players... Its called a Razor and the Soap isn't a Daemon.
--Dremen


The Iron Hands, they are the real emo marines. Seriously. The Dark Angels aren't the ones who sit around cutting off bits of themselves, wearing black, and complaining about weakness and ennui...

--Octavulg

#1089
Slips

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As the Broodlord lashed out at Atratus and succeeded in landing a hard blow, Solastion took the opportunity to rush into the momentary opening and swung his chainsword in a vicious arc only for the adamantine teeth of his weapon to grind, skitter and subsequently bounce off another arm of the Broodlords that had swung out to strike him, nullifying both attacks.

 

Recovering from the blow just as the beast missed its swing against Tyber, the Crimson Knight took his chainsword into a two-handed grip as he swung upwards at nearly the same time as Akkad's message came through and Tyber riposted.

 

Half-Aim + Standard Attack vs Broodlord

Standard Attack: 1d100 22 vs WS 66 (46 +10 Frenzy, +10 Half Aim) = 4 DOS

Chainsword Damage + Tearing: 2#1d10+17 27 18 Righteous Fury!

Righteous Fury: 1d10 4

Total Damage: 27 + 4 = 31 Rending Damage; 22 hit roll is reversed to...22...which, thematically enough, is the Left Arm.


Edited by Slips, 10 February 2019 - 01:12 AM.

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#1090
Commissar Molotov

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ROUND 9 CONTINUES

 

Solastion:

Half Action: Aim

Half-Action: Standard Attack: (HIT, 4DoS)

31 Damage (Pen 3) to the Broodlord

Broodlord attempts to Dodge at AG60: 83 (FAIL)

Broodlord has TB12 and Armour 8(5): 14 Wounds Sustained (now at -89)

 

With an assortment of unnatural, wet ripping sounds, the arm flies free of the body, trailing blood behind it in a crimson arc. The target must immediately make a Challenging Toughness Test or die from shock. If he passes the Test, he is Stunned for 1D10 Turns and suffers Blood Loss. He also takes 1D10 levels of Fatigue and now has only one arm.

 

Broodlord has Toughness 60: 11 (PASS) 

Stunned for 1D10 turns: 9

1D10 levels of Fatigue: 3

 

 

Tyber:

Half Action: Aim

Half Action: "Called Shot" 

WS54 (+10 AIM, +20 Stunned Target, +10 Master Level Enemy, +10 Ganging Up) (-20, Called Shot): 59 (HIT) 

Arming Sword does 1D10+17 Damage (Pen 3) to the Head: 7 (24) 

Broodlord has TB12 and Armour 8(5): 7 (now at -96)

Broodlord is decapitated and killed. 

 

 

 

COMBAT ENDS


Edited by Commissar Molotov, 10 February 2019 - 03:24 AM.

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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM) 
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1091
Commissar Molotov

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With the death of the Broodlord, it seems for a moment that you have clarity, as though an incessant buzzing in your heads has been silenced. Your warplate is slick with gore and ichor, your weaponry hot from the fury of the fight.

 

Kill-Team Disposition 

 

Akkad Wounds 22/22 | Fate 3

Atratus Wounds 5/23 | Fate 0

Greysight Wounds 11/21 | Fate 3

Solastion Wounds 10/23 | Fate 0

Tyber Wounds 11/18 (19) | Fate 3

Sabaan Wounds 20/22 | Fate 1

Varvost Wounds -4/21 (24) | Fate 0

 

 

Slips Only: 

Spoiler

 

Nineswords Only:

Spoiler

 

Steel Company Only:

Spoiler

 

Mazer Rackham Only:

Spoiler

 

Xin Ceithan / A.T. / Mazer Rackham:

Spoiler


Edited by Commissar Molotov, 10 February 2019 - 03:52 AM.

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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM) 
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1092
Nineswords

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TUNNELS SLICK WITH the patina of wastewater and detritus of indigenous sewer scavengers soon met the drier access shafts to the city above. Like the sewers, the tunnels were ancient, a crumbling edifice to the Imperium’s procrustean infrastructure, lit by a string of sodium lumen globes which had been crudely hammered into hewn rock.

Greysight led the way with Atratus, flitting between available cover, whilst the rest of the kill-team lumbered closely behind. There was no need to scout ahead or consult any chart information to navigate, for the lumen lamps led the way. Clearly, the debased followers of the xenos abominations had not anticipated resistance capable of locating and infiltrating their nest of darkness.

Such hubris would be their undoing, thought Greysight as he stalked behind Aratus. Soon, the end of the tunnel loomed ahead, the silhouettes of ruined iron grating hanging off their hinges. In the distance, a much larger processional beckoned.

Three short blips sounded inside Greysight’s helm unit. It was Atratus.

Target ahead. Covert elimination.

Greysight complied with the Raptor’s request, taking aim at a diminutive figure in the distance, whilst Atratus scanned for more guards through his sniper’s scope.

‘Blackthorn, be ready to move quickly to the doors two hundred and fifty metres ahead. In four.’

‘Acknowledged brother Greysight. Emperor guide your aim,’ replied sergeant Vaidan.

The Storm Son’s bolter coughed once, the long distance and the tunnel’s acoustics partially masking the weapon’s tell-tale bark. The guard’s head was vaporised instantaneously in a quiet puff of exploded brain tissue. A headless body lurched awkwardly for a moment, before slowly crumpling onto the floor. Grotesquely, it had three arms.

Suffer not the Alien to live.

‘Clear,’ voxed Atratus.

Kill-team Blackthorn was already moving, a convoy of monstrously proportioned shadows gliding across the processional corridor with a grace and quietness that belied their size. Despite their efforts, they would not have long before whatever lay ahead would detect the presence of an enemy in their midst.

Approaching the headless corpse of the guard, Greysight peered through carved wooden doors that marked the entrance to the xenoforms’ sanctum. What lay beyond was a pale facsimile of the cathedrum the brothers of Blackthorn had liberated just hours earlier, but this cavernous space was strewn with debris, the ritual symbols of the Emperor broken and defiled by alien hands and carelessly tossed onto the floor.

Replacing them, lit by a hastily constructed constellation of more of the glowing lumen orbs, was a crude six-armed idol fashioned from shards of scavenged agricultural machinery and animal bone in a perverse mockery of the Imperial Creed: a heathen monument to the herald of the Great Devourer. It was draped in a miserable tapestry of rotting skin and ribbons of cloth, a dread visage intended to inspire fanatical devotion to a cause diametrically opposed to humanity’s existence.

A debased congregation surrounded the false idol: the lost, whose last vestiges of humanity were beyond the Emperor’s mercy, mingled freely with hulking chitin-bound silhouettes that glittered with unfathomable malice. Directly below the idol itself, the parasitic lord of the xenoforms held court, squatting upon the remains of a stone altar.

The broodlord, however, was not what held the Storm Son’s attention. A figure next to it, no more than a smudg—

Wait. No. Ther—

Greysight’s thoughts clouded. It was as if a heavy fog had suddenly bloomed within his mind, like algae spreading over a still pond on a summer’s day. Targeting locks and threat markers manifested in his helm display, but all he could perceive was a dark miasma that reminded Greysight of a great pit of thick tar, indistinct shapes coalescing in the roiling and bubbling primordial soup.

‘This may be our one chance to strike at the beast,’ said a voice. The apothecary, perhaps?

‘Strike hard brothers. Leave none alive,’ answered another, a voice gurgling in a slow drawl. Whoever it was sounded like they were talking underwater. The nauseating darkness enveloped the Storm Son in its warm embrace, systematically shutting down his higher motor functions and physical processes. It was not like Greysight could think with his usual transhuman swiftness. He couldn’t think at all.

The broodlord was staring straight at him - beyond him - its alien eyes opening like an aperture into the abyss where the limitless hive mind of the Great Devourer uncurled and revealed itself in its dark majesty.

+ We are one. We are one. We are one. We are one, + it whispered.

No, not a whisper, for what words could possibly communicate the scale of the Great Devourer’s cosmic purpose? It was an unassailable concept that brooked no argument or disagreement.

+We are one.+

It was the promise of assimilating everything you are, you were and what could be. Time slowed and the universe unfolded. A hundred trillion minds linked in a single gestalt consciousness. Such wonder. Such beauty...

+ We are one, + it said.

+ WE ARE ONE, + it shouted.

+ WE ARE ONE, WE ARE ONE, WEAREONE WEAREONEWEAREONEWEAR—

The broodlord screeched as it was thrown backwards by an explosive shot from Atratus. It slammed into the statue in a shower of tortured metal and bone shards.

As the abomination’s psychic hold on Storm Son dissipated, Greysight’s paralysis was replaced with the heady rush of combat instinct, the twin hearts of the Emperor’s perfect design filling his transhuman system with adrenaline.

‘For the Emperor of All!’ he snarled, firing indiscriminately into the tainted congregation. The time for subtlety had ended, and the spear had finally been cast.

‘The Emperor will know his own!’ Vârvost bellowed, the Eradicator had already activated his jetpack, bludgeoning the door opening wider so he could assail the horde within, followed by the apothecary Solastion. Two grandsons of Sanguinius, the heat of blood upon them. It could only end in pandemonium.

To their credit, the congregation reacted quickly though they incapable of truly independent thought. Moving with a strange mechanical gait, they reminded Greysight of fire-termites defending their mound, no doubt coordinated by the psychic might of their master’s presence. The lord of the xenoform brood leapt into action alongside its warriors, who raced across the desecrated chapel’s walls and ceiling with terrifying speed.

No longer able to get a clean shot, Atratus instead threw a grenade into the oncoming horde, the distraction a welcome respite as Vaidan ordered the rest of Blackthorn into the fray.

Greysight kept his distance, wary of the genestealer’s flight. He aimed at the main body of the remaining cultists with the intent on thinning them down. A stray round from one of the abhumans had hit Greysight’s boltgun, causing it to jam. Cursing, the Storm Son’s frustration was palpable as he tried to clear the boltgun’s firing mechanism. A well-aimed shot at one of the genestealer’s missed as the boltgun’s machine-spirit protested one final time, before resuming its normal rate of fire.

Ahead in the melee, Vârvost had finally hacked down one of the broodlord’s lesser warriors with his oversized chain-axe, though Greysight could sense his brother’s injuries even from afar. The Crimson Knight was faring little better, encircled by the broodlord and facing off against another warrior form which managed to slice into Solastion’s helmet with a calcified claw, before being eviscerated by a brutal, back-handed chop of the apothecary’s chainsword, bisecting the beast cleanly in two.

Atratus and Sabaan moved past Greysight, tearing into the oncoming horde with cold, furious precision, followed by sergeant Vaidan who had unleashed the purifying flames of Honourum into the mass of bodies. The screams of the dying abhumans were accompanied by satisfying shrieks, as one of the genestealers caught fire, blistering chitin before the flames combusted vital organ clusters within.

The Storm Son’s caution was rewarded when another genestealer that had somehow outflanked the main group burst through a window of a side chapel in a blizzard of coloured glass, intent on ambushing Sabaan. The genestealer’s attempted on the Iron Hand was instead thwarted by several shots across its body. What was left of the alien’s mangled form landed with an ungainly thud next to Sabaan, denied the satisfaction of ending its prey.

Despite appearances, Blackthorn was slowly being surrounded, the element of surprise threatened by the numerical superiority of the tainted humans, coordinated in psychic concert with their alien masters. The genestealers were not to be underestimated, even against the might of the Emperor’s gene-forged sons. In the oppressive mass of bodies, Vârvost was tiring, hemmed in and being battered into submission by more of the abominations.

Another pair of the broodlord’s coven cleaved a destructive path towards Sabaan and Atratus. Talons capable of ripping into mainline battle tanks flashed in the dim light as the nearest genestealer ploughed towards the Iron Hand, attempting to finish what its’ kin had started. Greysight’s bolter spat another lethal payload, dissolving the genestealer’s hideous face and upper torso, as the mutagenic acid contained within the hellfire rounds completed their grisly work.

Sensing the turn of the battle’s tide, the broodlord made its last desperate gambit. Hyper-stimulated muscles bunched and coiled, before the abomination vaulted straight through the remnants of its followers with blistering adrenaline-fuelled speed straight towards Vaidan. The watch-sergeant evaded its first strike, raising his adamantium combat blade, bellowing his defiance at the broodlord’s continued existence. Undeterred, the abomination struck the watch-sergeant again and again with lethal force, calcified claws puncturing the Novamarine’s power-armour in several places.

The watch-sergeant fell, his knife unceremoniously clanged against the stone floor. Rearing its hideous physiognomy, a disgusting, rasping howl erupted from a jagged maw in premature exultation.

Solastion was the first to respond to the watch-sergeant’s untimely demise, his customary restraint extinguished. He sounded like Vârvost.

‘By the Emperor and Sanguinius they shall suffer! Slay them all! Only in death does duty end!’

Kill-team Blackthorn did not break, for they shall know no fear. Sabaan began firing, repeating the mantra of the Gorgon.

The flesh is weak.

The broodlord’s gambit had failed, for it did not comprehend the power of unshakeable faith. Faith in the Emperor. Faith in a shared brotherhood that was stronger than iron, forged by a lifetime of war and bloodshed that elevated the Imperium’s disparate sons into the galaxy’s most effective warriors. Vaidan had demonstrated this corollary in his simple act of defiance, uniting the brothers of the Deathwatch in a final act of alien extermination.

Solastion and Atratus had engaged the beast in concert, keeping it occupied whilst looking for an opening to neutralise its lethal claws. Greysight, along with an ailing Vârvost and Sabaan were cutting down the last of the vile abhuman worshippers that had infected Syndalla with its poison. A small group of them had broken away. Greysight had assumed for a moment they were fleeing, only to find them swarming around Akkad and Tyber, who had finally fought their way into the desecrated chapel.

The Giant wasted no time, cutting the heretics down before igniting his jetpack and joining his brothers in duelling the great beast, hacking and chopping and stabbing in a deadly dance too fast for human eyes to follow.

Injured and distracted by three assailants, the enraged broodlord lashed out, trying to create some space. When it was unable to do so, it threw back its head once and howled a deadly psychic discharge. However, the beast’s telepathic assault could not penetrate the unity of purpose in the dispensation of the Emperor’s righteous fury.

‘Witchcraft!’ shouted Atratus, reeling from the psychic attack, whilst skewering an abhuman that had strayed too close to the Raptor. Unable to press his advantage, Atratus had simply jammed a krak grenade straight into a cleft on the broodlord’s outer carapace. With a dull crump of thermo-explosive pressure, the grenade carved a hideous gaping wound in the beast’s torso, indiscriminately spraying acidic blood and ruined flesh sacs upon the brothers of Blackthorn. The beast shrieked, before plunging two of its razor-sharp claws into the Raptor. Gasping with pain, his transhuman physiology already working to repair the damage, Atratus ignited his jetpack and moved away from the immediate threat.

Tyber, Sabaan and Solastion moved straight into the void left by Atratus, weaving and dodging, waiting for the moment to strike a killing blow. When Sabaan had waded in to engage the beast, the apothecary successfully lopped off the broodlord’s monstrous claw with a two handed swing, as it made to bludgeon the Iron Hand. Mechanical monecular-edged teeth sawed and chewed through armoured chitin, bone and muscle, spraying splintered fragments and ichor across Solastion’s battered armour.

The beast stumbled. For all its cunning, tenacity and hyper-evolved resilience, it could not withstand the coordinated furious assault of the Deathwatch.

In the end, it was the Dragon of Caliban that slew the dread beast of Syndalla, the onyx blade of Tyber’s arming sword neatly decapitating the broodlord in a single stroke. It was a worthy kill, celebrated in the halls of Watch-station Azurea and immortalising the deeds of Kill-team Blackthorn, despite all that happened next.

Breathing heavily, Greysight stalked over to the fallen broodlord and retrieved his sulde. Turning the bronze clamp in his hands with reverence, he looked down at his chapter’s sacred relic. They were just knots of hair, but they were also much more. The sulde was a reminder of who he was: a warrior sired of the Khagan’s gene-line. A loyal son of Nakaris, tasked to defend the Emperor’s domains. A brother who lost one brotherhood, only to find another.

He looked to Sabaan and Vârvost, who had taken to destroying the false six-armed idol with grim determination. To his left, Tyber and Atratus tended to each other’s battered wargear. Daon Akkad busied himself with slaying the last dregs of the broodlord’s diabolical cult, uncoordinated and vulnerable with the loss of their leader.

The Storm Son walked over to Solastion, hunched over the prone form of watch-sergeant Vaidan, checking for signs of life.

There, in the ruins of a defiled templum on Syndalla, the psychic white noise of the xenos broodlord’s ceaseless broadcast finally ended, and silence reigned, if only for a moment.

Duty called, and the Deathwatch answered.

+++

Edited by Nineswords, 12 February 2019 - 12:00 AM.

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+++

'We are the sword of Jaghatai. Had you not created great sins, the Emperor would not have sent a punishment like us upon you.'

 Index Astartes: Storm Sons
+++

‘We estrange our fathers and forsake false brotherhoods. The War God cares not from whence we came, only that we fight.’
The Unbroken: A Renegade Cult of Obliteration

+++


#1093
Mazer Rackham

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There it was.

 

Bleak silence.

 

The silence of a battle won, of a field given over to carrion-feeders.  The normal sounds of running, dripping water rushed back into the void which before had been consumed wholly by life-or-death battle.  The scent of chopped meat, seared flesh, superheated bone and the hewn alien chitin would be swirling around them all as Akkad finally felt a release of pressure from the front of his mind.

 

He locked the heavy bolter to his backpack and drew pistol and blade.  The others stood or knelt, gathering their strength again, standing vigil over the fallen Lugal.  This blasted planet had cost them two brothers and nearly two more.  Atratus and Varvost were badly wounded.  He left them to the ministrations of the Iazu, and commenced a search of the immediate area.  He snatched up bits and pieces for his momentii mori and continued to sweep this dismal place, looking for anything that could be recovered.  The shredded corpse at his feet yielded nothing, but as he banged the doors in, he found charnel houses of corpses, stripped of meat, distended by brutal slaughter.

 

He made to turn away from this last corpse-vault and his helmet lamp caught something in the light.  A small chink of gilt metal glimmered brightly in the dark.  Stepping over smartly, lest he lose his footing in the gore mire, he knelt above it, stowing his knife.  On closer inspection he could see it was within the remains of a female, once she had long dark hair and fine quality clothes, but now they lay lank and mouldering.  He gently lifted the object, careful not to drop it and could now see it was an Inquisitorial Rosette, cast in gold.  The bones and body of the Inquisitrix was now found.  They were chipped and scored to show her defiance.  No other marks of...subversion...were evident.

 

She had remained loyal to the Throne, even in death.  In respect, he removed his helmet.

"Sleep now Sister.  May the Emperor welcome you to his Host."

 

He wondered if the Rosette could be affixed to him and gently pressed it to his waist with a command to maglock it there.  It snapped on and a strange feeling flooded him, giving him and odd clarity.  He suddenly felt accepted and that like Tyber, perhaps his true calling was here after all.  He had accepted the squad as brothers, why not just accept this as his life?

 

He stood and marched back out to the squad, to do honour to the fallen Novamarine and to congratulate his Kin on the mighty kill.

 

MR.


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#1094
A.T.

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To Tyber the honour of the kill, the creatures last few disciples falling soon after. While the bio-ship remained in orbit this would serve as only a temporary setback to the xenoforms, but perhaps enough of one to secure the planetary defenses and hold for reinforcements.

 

As Atratus took up watch position at the large door, rifle once again in hand, he noted a fresh absence in the group. "What of the Interrogator?"


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#1095
Xin Ceithan

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Covering the squad while the wounded are tended, geneseed recovered.
Then recovering wargear from the fallen.
Offering advice on Dismantlng the Templum
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#1096
Steel Company

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Everything was quite, as the las of the cult was put down, the water was rushing in the distance. Taking a cloth from one of his pouches, Tyber ran it down the length of his arming sword as he moved to the severed head of the Broodlord. Plaching both the cloth and his sword away, he knelt to retrieve the head before he pulled a tooth free for Sabaan, Solastion, Atratus, Akkad, Varvost, Vaidan, Thorvald and himself. As each tooth was pulled he gave it to each of his new brothers, with the words +We all shared in this victory against a worthy foe.+

 

It was when he came before Greysight, that rather than tooth, he offered the head of the beast along with the words; +Though I landed the killing strike, you were the first to harm it. This trophy is yours by right and tradition.+

 

 

Later Tyber found himself sitting on one of the boxes in a side room, rolling the tooth over in his massive paw like hand, his helm sitting beside him as he mused out loud to the object in his hand, “You were a worthy foe… You were smarter than I had first given you credit for, stronger too… Thank you for making me a better warrior.”

 

He pressed the tooth to his forehead before placing it in a pouch along with a second tooth he carried for Thorvald, the one he would have placed with his remains to be send back to the Vulka Fenryka along with Thorvald’s remains to be honored in their ways.

 

So lost in thought he didn’t hear the approach of Akkadm till the smaller Astartes placed a hand on his pauldron and asked him “Lost in thought Ahu?”

 

Looking to his brother by choice’s smiling face; Tyber couldn’t help but grin back, as he said back, “To a degree, we need to find Thorvald and retrieve him for the Vulka Fenryka… Perhaps we can use the Milita’s command center to search for his locator beacon?”


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--Octavulg

#1097
Mazer Rackham

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“To a degree, we need to find Thorvald and retrieve him for the Vulka Fenryka… Perhaps we can use the Milita’s command center to search for his locator beacon?”

 

It was a good idea - Sabaan already had the data from the shuttle and with the Militia's help, they could probably triangulate the position of their fallen comrade.  It had been a long time coming and Akkad understood the promise in the words, both of the Dragon and the Crimson Knight.  He understood the value of returning the body in honour, with the trophy secured by Tyber.

 

"You think and speak well Ahu. We shall repatriate the body of the Wolf, my oath upon it, for now - well struck My Swordsman."  He banged the pauldron of the huge Marine with a wintry smile and watched as Greysight stood above the body of the Patriarch, looking down deep in thought, his battle armour still, in the way of his kin - watching, then blinding action, then still again.  He had not yet retrieved the Sulde.

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 10 February 2019 - 08:02 PM.

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#1098
Slips

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As the head of the beast was shorn from its shoulders by Tybers blade and the flurry of combat subsided with the last dregs of hybrids dying inglorious deaths, Solastion wrenched his helmet off exposing his blood-caked face underneath.

 

Breathing heavily as the fury within him subsided, he looked down at his wrist cogitator to take stock of the squad and to begin prioritizing who he would take care of first. However, he had something considerably more important to do first. Stowing his weapons he walked over to the limp form of the Watch-Sergeant and knelt by the body and unlatched the helmet using emergency overrides.

 

As the battered and dented Mk VII Helmet came off, Solastion gingerly set it aside before drawing his Reductor and getting ready to extract the geneseed found in the neck. What he didn't expect to happen next, however, was to hear the weak gasp of breath issue from the Sergeant. Pausing almost incredulously at the possibility that he was still alive, he waited for a few tense double-heartbeats and when the gasp issued forth again, he dropped his reductor his eyes widening in shock before quickly bringing up his diagnostic equipment and readying his narthecium and slipping his Diagnostor helmet back on.

 

++By the Emperor! He yet lives!++ was all he could manage to say - nay, exclaim - before frantically setting to work. It was a difficult task due to Vaidans life being held on by barely a thread. He had to be infinitely more careful in his ministrations he couldn't afford to make the slightest mistake for it could send the body into a truly fatal death spiral. Over time, the Novamarine started to regain consciousness and even attempted to speak "Conserve your energy, Brother, your wounds are grave and I do not intend to send the Novamarines a vial of your geneseed anytime soon."

 

The damage was substantial and without full access to an Apothecarion, the best he could do was prevent death and induce a sus-an coma. "Brother Vaidan, your wounds are rather substantial and for your own safety, I am forced to induce a sus-an coma so that we may transport you safely until such a time as I have access to an Apothecarion, understood?" and a simple weak nod was all he needed before nodding gravely in return.

 

++Brothers, if you have any words to say to our Sergeant before I induce a coma, now would be the time.++


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#1099
Commissar Molotov

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As you exit the slaughterhouse, the rain seems different; somehow not as oppressive, but rather cleansing. It is as though the events of this night have been washed away along with the gore and viscera of the Broodlord and its gene-kin. The PDF have secured the city around the abattoir and the cultists have been cut down.

 

As you see the first glimmer of dawn above the city skyline you realise that this is indeed a new day for Syndalla and Beregar City. Your efforts have managed to rest it free from the grip of the xenos, but you know that as surely as day follows night that the Tyranid swarm is not far away. The Shadow of the Warp that the astropath spoke about is descending and you know soon you will have to fight for your lives once more... 


Edited by Commissar Molotov, 11 February 2019 - 04:43 PM.

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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM) 
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1100
Commissar Molotov

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BLACKTHORN PLAYERS, PLEASE DO NOT POST.

 

 

 

Episode II: The Belly of the Beast

 

 

2qwbRz4.png

 

 

Deathwatch Strike Vessel Xenocide

Outer Swordpoint Stars, Taurelian Expanse

Segmentum Ultima

c.918.M41

 

The chamber is silent. 
 
Funereal, even. 
 
Only the five of you have survived. Five, out of the original eleven to have departed as part of the Kill-Team from Watch-Station Azurea. 
 
Each of you have suffered in your foolhardy prior attempts to strike at the Tyranid hive-fleet. Your armour and your equipment is scarred and pitted with bio-acids and claw-marks. Your souls and your psyches have fared little better. Codicier Montesa's injuries were extensive enough to require bionic replacement of his respiratory system and primary heart. Four of your brethren now reside in the armaglass capsules at Brother-Apothecary Yeng’s waist, their precious progenoid-glands recovered and painstakingly preserved so that they might be returned to their home Chapters. Two more of your Brothers remain in the hazy mists of a stasis field in the vain hope that the Deathwatch’s apothecaries might be able to restore them to functionality. 
 
Grievous losses, but each of you know the situation could have been far worse. With Watch-Sergeant Jol fallen, the Codicer had taken temporary command of the Kill-Team, refusing to even acknowledge the injuries that he had suffered. Ordering the retreat might have been a bitter pill to swallow, but pragmatism had won the day over notions of honour and glory.  Even so, the Xenocide had suffered heavy damage; damage that required time to repair. Damage that had prevented the Kill-Team from prosecuting its campaign, and allowed the Hive Fleet to slip away. 
 
The five of you stand within an arming chamber, surrounded by the armour and equipment of your fallen brethren.

 

 

The Librarian speaks first.

 

+++

 

GM: Kill-Team Swordhand has suffered tremendous losses and the Xenocide has spent five weeks undergoing repairs. Your first posts should provide the reader with an introduction to your characters and their interactions with the rest of the Kill-Team. Perhaps you might consider what happened to your character during the assault on the Hive Ship, and what they have done on the Xenocide. 


Edited by Commissar Molotov, 11 February 2019 - 06:28 PM.

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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM) 
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.





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