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[DW] Blackthorn and Swordhand

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

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#101
Xin Ceithan

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"Given the data available, Brother Vaidan is among the more prognostic favourable options."
Midway through the Novamarine's rapport, Sabaan had felt the sting of his competitive Medusan nature. The need to prove his strength. For a moment, he was actually hoping the situation would derail and erupt into violence. He fought the impulse down with cogitator assisted logic. The other marines lacked the interlink ability necessary for him to make mission critical decisions. The probabilities of delay, of misunderstanding and resulting mission failure were still too high. Logic dictated the non linkable Astartes should be led by one of their own. Sabaan would be more efficient in a semi-autonomous function, fulfilling his duty as ordained by the Emperor and the Omnissiah. There would be no challenge. At this time. His armour grumbled, disappointed.
"I support the notion and suggest beginning operational exercises under the Novamarine's brevet leadership."

Edited by Xin Ceithan, 05 March 2018 - 10:24 PM.

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#102
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Atratus nods his affirmation at the reply, "Aye".

 

Vârvost was right in one thing, he did talk too much. But he stood among the disparate brotherhood with confidence and spoke of the mission before his own goals and had clear experience of command.

 

Support came from expected quarters but the Crimson Knights' move towards his blade did not escape notice. Had he misjudged the Eradicator jibes or Solastions own ambition? Still the atmosphere now seemed almost... disappointed, and more than a few of his brothers looked eager to test one another now that the question of seniority had been addressed.


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#103
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Seeing the remaining Battle-Brothers either voice their support for the Novamarine - in one form or another - Solastion takes his hand off his pommel and looks around the room once again "It seems we have reached majority then? Unless one voices their disagreement with Brother-Vaidan being appointed Squad Leader enough to change the votes, then so be it!" he states making no mention of his own abstinence from casting a vote. He was neither for nor against the Novamarine leading them, after all, and wanted to see him in action before casting judgement on Vaidans ability to lead; that the Iron Hand cast a vote in his favor bode well, however.


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#104
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Akkad sensed the slight shift in mood - he waited as the assembled Astartes gave their coin to the purse of consent, tipping the scales in Vaidan's favour.  Some had been more reticent, he had noticed Solastion's discreet neutrality and Varvost's indifference - the latter was not a surprise, but he would keep an eye on him anyway.  He looked around the room, his posture still relaxed, his eyes met those of the Wolf and a knowing gaze passed between them.  He approved of Atratus' incisive question, if he was true to form, he would be the same in battle.  He reflected on the Storm Son once more, he knew some of their ways, they understood meritocracy very well as did the Wolves.

 

Tyber had pleased him.  Whilst not grasping any political nuance, the big Marine had spoken bravely, grasping instead the reality of the situation, the way the young do.  He approved and the big Marine deserved a reward and encouragement.  He waited until they were all looking at someone else, Tyber was wrapped up in his own thoughts, but he realised the Astral Claw was looking at him and came back from whatever thought had been shadowing him.  Akkad held his gaze a moment or two, then allowed a small but real smile to flash.  He accompanied it with a tiny nod.

 

Sabaan had been utterly methodical in his approach to it all and logic had ruled there, although Akkad sensed a slight frown of stance, as if not fully satisfied with the result of his calculations.  Satisfactory, was perhaps the word he was searching for.  Possibly and more likely the more deprecating Adequate.

 

He remained silent for a few heartbeats after Solastion had finished - drawing out the inevitable.  Vaidan was looking at him, expectation hiding behind the warmth of his open face like a cloud threatening rain.  He did not lack confidence or courage, Akkad allowed, he had ambition and that was good if properly directed.  A leader had to have that - to covet responsibility, to want the respect of his peers, their counsel, their support.  In a role as Devastator and in personality, Daon was not the best choice for Leader, a commander at this stage had to be charismatic and he was more used to commanding by fiat.  He led and people followed.  Sometimes they did it because they loved him.  Other times because he'd plant his sabaton firmly on intractable backsides.

 

Vaidan needed a balance and a political choice.  The type of enemy they faced would be a useful tool for that.  Akkad was impressed with a few of the brethren, but Solastion was wisest as Khyber's second.  A strong right arm and - a gene brother to the Eradicator.  His natural authority as Apothecary to their bloodline should come as no shock to Varvost.  The time was now he decided, Vaidan had opened up to them and risked himself.  Now they must open to him.  He uttered a brief few words in his mind, pleas to the Emperor and the Unknown Primarch for help.  Then, he drew a deep breath and drew to his full height, which Akkad would be the first to admit was not huge, his air was formal, cool, commanding of attention.  The noble and Veteran Sergeant blending, his hard-won and hard forgotten authority began to bleed out from him like a cloud of chill mist, the others pricking up like hounds - the Wolf turned almost instantly.  His tone when it came was even, respectful, but firm.  His warm timbre could not put the lie to the steel in his spine.

 

"Firstly, I declare for Brother Vaidan.  You have spoken well and sincerely, Watch Sergeant." He paused and offered Vaidan another smile and those green eyes, usually so cold and stern, matched it.  He let the easy manner fade away before continuing.  "Secondly, I nominate Brother Apothecary Solastion as your Second.  His knowledge will be invaluable in the coming operations."  He nodded with deference to the Crimson Knight.  The coldness now broke, like hoarfrost in the sun and his tone became more comradely, like that of an older brother.  This had to be done rightly and well he thought, covering his uncertainty swiftly with another steadying breath.

 

"Thirdly, we know you now and have heard your Oaths to us.  You have not heard our Oaths to you, which is your right."  The words came from somewhere else - as if something had given them to him.  He nodded to Tyber.  "Brother, if you would, please draw your blade and hold it, that we might swear upon it."  He looked expectantly and earnestly at the big Marine, maintaining the air command and stilling any lingering defiance in the room.

 

MR.


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#105
Steel Company

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With out a second thought Tyber drew his arming sword, the wide heavy onxy blade near the length of a human was placed blade down, the pommel coming to just under Tyber's chest. As he placed his hands at rest atop the pommel he twisted the blade slightly to allow the silver writing to catch the light.

 

Bellum invicto a Domino

 

"As you requested Brother." he said in a voice that suggested a response to a practiced drill to a Sargent.


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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...

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#106
Commissar Molotov

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GM: The next step of the Preparation Phase is to take the oath for the squad. This is a step that includes mechanical bonuses for the game, and whilst there is a narrative element, we should look at this in the OOC thread. When the players have agreed I will move on the time and allow you to work on what you've been doing during the transit to Syndalla.
 
QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#107
Dosjetka

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The Novamarine released a small sigh of relief. While he could sense some disatisfaction with his nomination, Vaidan was satisfied. Now he had the opportunity to properly prove himself as leader of Astartes.

 

As Akkad spoke, it seemed like he was gradually finding his old Veteran Sergeant self. Vaidan knew he would be a valuable asset and ally. His nomination of Solastion as second-in-command was a good one. The Novamarine nodded his approval.

 

As the Giant drew his blade, Khyber removed his right gauntlet and placed his bare hand on the blade.

 

"It does not feel right that you would swear an oath to me. I suggest that you all join me in swearing an oath to the Emperor instead: it is His will that has brought us together here and it is in His name that we fight."


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You carry the Emperor's will as your torch, with it destroy the shadows.


#108
Commissar Molotov

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GM:If there is one thing that unites the disparate Chapters of the Adeptus Astartes, it is loyalty to the Emperor of Mankind and the Golden Throne of Terra. This moment of reaffirmation seems to bring the Kill-Team together, strengthening your will and giving you confidence that you will achieve your endeavour. Each of you takes a moment to swear an oath to the Emperor on Tyber's sword. That might be a load, brash and bombastic oath, or a silent moment of contemplative prayer. Surely, your Chapter's unique practices may come to the fore here.
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#109
Steel Company

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OOC:

 

Post moved to later placing, to better fit chronologically.


Edited by Steel Company, 08 March 2018 - 06:58 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

#110
Xin Ceithan

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Swearing by their weapons. It seemed ..odd. Sabaan blink- clicked through the spectral filters of his bionic eye, irritated. His Medusan nature derided it as a folly. Had he not been forged by the Creed? Would not the others have faced similar -even if lesser- trials? Had they not already dedicated their lives to their Chapters and the Emperor? Even if they denied the superiority of the Iron Creed, had they not been transformed into weapons themselves? Their very presence at this very moment had required them to prove their loyalty and their abilities long before they were considered for this task. They had already sworn their oaths to the DeathWatch. The need to repeat something so obvious seemed...redundant. Superfluous.
But his Medusan fury had been tempered, his mind hardened by logic, his transhuman frame reforged by Iron. He had made the pilgrimage to Holy Mars and expanded his understanding of the ways and the glory of the Machine God. Ritual and sanctified process were to be observed. The components of the blessed boltgun would be blessed before the Ritual of Reassembly. A calming presence flowed through him at the thought, spreading like coolant fluid. He turned his head and inspected his fellow Marines, one at a time. Here were the parts which would be assembled into a weapon. A kill-team.
Yes. Ritual had to be observed. A blessing. An oath...
As his brothers formulated their vows, Sabaan began searching his memory banks. Data streamed. As he widened his search pattern, he felt..something..stirring. It accessed his autosenses. It's access codes were ancient. Sabaan opened himself to the touch of the Omnissiah...
Servos whirring, Sabaan stepped forward. He extended his left arm and laid the open palm of his silver augment on the blade.

"I am an Iron Hand. By this Hand, I am linked, unbroken, to the line of Ferrus Manus, whose hands reforged the Clans of Medusa and aided in forging the Imperium of Man. By this Hand, I am linked to the Legion of Iron. By this Hand, I am linked to the Creed of Iron. By this Hand, I swear to expose and hunt down the Enemies of Mankind. And as our Father did not falter and was first to face the the Enemies of Man, I will not rest until the are broken in body and in mind and their very essence purged from the Galaxy. By this Hand, I swear this. By the Primarch. By the Omnissiah. By the Emperor." The silver bionic closed around the blade. "And by this Hand, I vow that I will break those who oppose me in this task or lack to strength to support me in this undertaking."

His bionic released the blade. Sabaan remained, unmoving, for a moment. It felt like returning from an MIU link to the limits of his own body. He offered Vaidan a nod then returned to his former position.
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#111
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A good omen thought Atratus in so much as he gave such superstition weight. Loyalty to the Emperor before chapter or primarch or self, that which had always separated true astartes from traitor no matter their other differences.

 

Stepping forwards he repeated those words he had always done passed down by the chaplains as reminder of the only true duty, "As our bodies are armoured with adamantium, our souls are protected with loyalty. As our bolters are charged with death for the Emperors enemies, our thoughts are charged with wisdom. As our ranks advance, so does our devotion, for we are Space Marines. We are the chosen of the Emperor, his loyal servants unto death"

 

As he stepped back he wondered for the first time the origin of the words. He knew they had first been spoken during the heresy but had never thought to question them or their origin, or even if they were the words of his own gene-brothers.


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#112
Dosjetka

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"And by this Hand, I vow that I will break those who oppose me in this task or lack the strength to support me in this undertaking."

 

The last part of the Iron Hand's closing sentence sent a slight chill down Vaidan's spine. "No pressure," he thought while supressing a chuckle. It was not the appropriate time for humour.

 

He waited for Atratus to finish his oath before intoning his own vow, his eyes closed and head bowed, his voice solemn and steady.

 

"Far from our homes, across the Great Void, we ply the stars to destroy His foes,

Aboard our vessels forged with fire and steel, we sail to protect His subjects,

Across a galaxy conquered by Mankind, we wage war to uphold His rightful rule,

On countless worlds, under innumerable skies, we bleed so that others may breathe.

 

We are the Emperor's Adeptus Astartes, His servants most loyal,

The sword He wields without hesitation, compromise, or remorse,

The Angels of Death, Humanity's defenders, those who know no fear,

In His name, we shall seek out the enemies of Mankind until they are no more."

 

Opening his eyes, he took his time to savour the tranquility of the moment. He took several deep breaths before lifting his head, retracting his hand from the blade, and reattaching his gauntlet.


Edited by Chaplain Dosjetka, 08 March 2018 - 04:39 PM.

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#113
Nineswords

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GREYSIGHT X

Oaths

 

THEY SWORE ON the Giant’s blade, a slab of onyx that darkly glimmered in the gloom of the mess hall. In the age when the Great Khan stalked the stars with the Emperor of All, there was a tradition amongst the Astartes’ ancestors, an “oath of moment” that held the bearer to a particular course of action to the mission at hand. It served as a ritual of re-pledging the sacred oaths that all Astartes swore to their primarchs and to the Emperor. The Great Betrayal severed that particular tradition, though the circumstances in which such an oath of moment was taken had lingered on throughout the ages. 

 

Vaidan’s pledge on the Giant’s sword was one of those circumstances, and the unity of old was replaced by a disparate succession of rituals, reflecting the diversity of chapter cultures from broken legions. 

 

One by one, the members of kill team Blackthorn re-pledged their oaths to the Emperor. When it was Greysight’s turn, the Storm Son walked towards Tyber’s sword, taking off his helmet with a gentle twist, and letting it drop to the ship’s decking with a metallic clang that reverberated across the hall like a bell. Without breaking stride, Greysight began to chant the Nine Cuts, a mantra that bonded the ordus of the Storm Sons under the Emperor into battle. He knelt before the sword, and with his right hand, clasped the blade proffered to him by the Giant.

 

Rin. Pyō. Tō. Sha. Kai.

 

Each word was accompanied by a curious cutting motion made with his remaining hand, clenched in a fist, but with the top two fingers pointing outward.

 

Jin. Retsu. Zai. Zen.

 

Something stirred. A vibration that teetered on the edge of perception, even to the enhanced senses of the Astartes. The Wolf snapped his head around toward the Storm Son, whose mantra grew louder and faster each time Greysight repeated it, his hand movements crisply mirroring each syllable in a blur.

 

Rin.

 

Pyō.

 

The mantra began anew, and the words held an intangible power of their own. Each word was a concept, for they were ancient words that preceded even the founding of the Imperium.

 

Tō.

 

Sha.

 

Kai. Jin. Retsu. Zai. Zen.

 

The mantra began anew, and all looked to Greysight with a mix of curiosity, with a tinge of revulsion.

 

Rin. Confrontation.

 

Pyō. Ceaseless.

 

Tō. Battle against.

 

The mantra began anew, only this time the ancient words were somehow simultaneously being communicated in Low Gothic.

 

Confrontation,
Ceaseless. 

Battle against,
The Enemy of All.
My Brothers,

Execute,
The spear's tip.
Evoke the Emperor's spirit,
Thrust forward.

 

The mantra stopped, and the vibration ceased abruptly. Greysight stood, and slowly looked at each member of the kill team in turn. Acting watch-sergeant Vaidan. Tyber. Solastion, Thorvald, Sabaan, Akkad, Atratus, Vârvost.

 

'Even though I tread far from the zadyin arga, it appears the Emperor is with us in this endeavour,' said Greysight, and wandered to the edge of the group.

 

None of the kill team looked back at him.

 

Edited by Nineswords, 12 March 2018 - 01:36 PM.

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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

+++


#114
Dosjetka

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It was not often that words failed Vaidan and yet, after Greysight's incantation, the Novamarine's mind fell suddenly and chillingly quiet. It was as if his mind was not able to fully process what it had just witnessed and so had decided to take itself offline. That vibration that he had felt, that they all had felt... it left Vaidan feeling uneasy. It was as if the Storm Son had tapped the thin veil between the Materium and Immaterium and it had stirred.

 

Anger rose within the Novamarine. In his view, Greysight had somehow managed to taint what was intended as a solemn and unifying moment.


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#115
Mazer Rackham

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Each of the sworn brothers seemed more at ease after - as if crossing a bridge, overcoming another obstacle.  It showed a willingness to come together even if reluctance was the foremost trait in their hearts.

 

Greysight's oath had been the most intense.  It came as no surprise to Akkad, who had seen the Mantis Warriors do something similar.  He allowed Greysight to return to his chosen spot without a glance at him, respecting a moment of privacy.

 

Daon had little to add to both the bluntness and the embellished words bringing the fraternity to amalgam.  Quietly and smoothly, with a manner which stopped short of playful and erred towards reverence, his fingers danced across the High Gothic of the monolithic blade.  He resealed his gauntlet, the quicksilver sleeve complete once more.

 

He chose to say nothing - each refrain dying in his throat in the face of so many ancient traditions.  Instead, he cast his life away, the history of his Chapter still his bedrock, his purpose a compass in the heat and heart of War - but he could not return to Badab Primaris.  The reality of it hit him like a hammer, crushing the hopes of seeing the violet sunrise over the green hills of Tiberia Peninsula, the magnificent dance of the three moons over Decaballus...

 

"To the bitter end."

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 21 April 2018 - 09:47 PM.

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#116
Commissar Molotov

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The oath of binding is a moment of theatre, perhaps, but most of you accept it as a necessary theatre in uniting a disparate group of brothers into a cohesive whole. The When Vârvost steps forward, the Eradicator seems somewhat - not uncertain, nor reluctant. Perhaps simply unused to such a display. 

 

As he grips the sword, he speaks. 

 

"The creed of my Chapter is direct. Victory is life. Victory is in our hands, and life attained through our deeds." 

 

It is perhaps the most serious you have seen him thus far. 

 

"My blade will speak for me, and the Emperor will know me by my deeds."

 

With that, he stands and returns to the circle.

 

Thorvald, next, places his palm on the crosspiece and looks around the chamber. 

 

"For Russ, and for the All-Father. May they watch over us."

 

He looks over to Solastion. 

 

"Brother-Apothecary?"


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

#117
Slips

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Solastion stirs once the Wolf calls to him. He had been lost in thought as he viewed the various different oaths each of them fitting the marine who swore them, all different and yet all similar in their own ways.

He stepped forward and knelt bringing his chainsword across his outstretched knee placing him palm flatly upon it as he held it down and outstretched his other hand to touch the Obsidian blade of the Dragon and bowed his head.

He uttered not a word as he made his oath but after a few heartbeats past he took his hand off the obsidian blade and undid the gauntlet that encased the hand. Gripping his chainsword he slashes his plam and bled upon the mess halls floor.
“Upon my blood and the blood of Sanguinius which courses through my veins do I swear.”
The bleeding stopping nigh instanly as his blood clot with contact to the air. He replaced his gauntlet and stood up once again and backed up to his starting point and nodded to the others.
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#118
Steel Company

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Watching each of his new brothers take their oaths felt calming to Tyber, he recalled the eve before what should have been a crushing push on HSC-296, before the local humans awoke the slumbering Necrons. He had just graduated from squire to full brother only a few scant weeks before. Standing with his squad in the center of the Second Claw Company, vastly over strength according to the vaunted Codex Astartes that is held in such high regard by the sons of the 13th, as Master Voltarn took center stage at the entrance to the docking bay that they all stood, in unison one hundred and fifty Astartes, arranged into squads of five in front of their assigned Razorback transport kneeled, with their blades drawn, tips placed against the embarkation deck of the aging Vengeance class Grand Cruiser Praeco Veritatis Imperialis. As one they placed their bare foreheads against their swords and spoke the litany they had used since the coming of the Lion.

 

It was Greysight’s act that tore him from his thoughts, it felt almost unnatural, other worldly; it left him wondering if perhaps Greysight was a latent psyker that had somehow escaped the notice of the Librarians of his chapter.

 

Akkad’s actions seemed somewhat playful with the idea, as if this was something to be made light of, he couldn’t fault him for what he knew of the Astral Claws they did not have the history of service with the Emperor that others had.

 

After Solastion display of blood and words, fitting Tyber thought for a son of the Angel, he would be the last to speak his oath, in the tradition he had been part of on HSC-296, he kneels before his blade, and places his bare forehead against the flat, with his eyes shut and speaks:

 

“Ad hominem dico Imperatoris, Avus gratias ago tibi, quia in robore spiritus tuus ut dilatare imperium.
Ad Leonis, inquam, Pater gratias pro viribus amplificare imperium patris hominis.”

 

The words sound close to high gothic, close enough that it is easy to grasp the meaning of the words. Once spoken, he returns to his full height, swinging his blade sideways, he takes some of his tabard in one hand, using it to clean the blade before placing it back into his scabbard, and turns his attention to Viadan, awaiting his next instruction.


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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

#119
Commissar Molotov

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>>Structured Time<<

 

Solastion, Vârvost, Tyber, Atratus

Around you, the cargo elevator shudders as it hauls the four of you to the training area your new Watch-Sergeant has prepared. Captain Dimitar has provided the use of a cargo hold through which your Kill-Team has spent two days training, familiarising yourselves with one another. 

 

You have a few moments to glance around at the three brothers around you before the elevator halts, jarringly. Your superhuman reactions give you the chance to take in the room ahead of you as the door opens in the smallest fraction of a second. You see cargo crates, providing some measure of cover; you also see blank-eyed servitors with autorifles clutched in their fists. The Tech-Priests aboard the Voice of Thunder have clearly complied with requests for training materials. Then, towards the rear of the room you see two servitors, each with their arms replaced with a pair of heavy stubbers. As the roar of weapon fire fills the hold and a patter of bullets impacts against your armour, you begin to move... 

 

HiIug3m.png

 

Initiative Order (AG+D10)

Tyber: (2x4) + 9 (17)

Atratus: 6 + 4 (10)

Solastion: (2x3) + 4 (10)

Autogun-Armed Servitors (1-5): 3 + 7 (10)

Heavy Stubber Servitors (A-B )  3 + 4 (7)

Vârvost: 4+ 1 (5)

 

 

 

Sabaan, Greysight, Akkad, Thorvald

Around you, the cargo elevator shudders as it hauls the four of you to the training area your new Watch-Sergeant has prepared. Captain Dimitar has provided the use of a cargo hold through which your Kill-Team has spent two days training, familiarising yourselves with one another. 

 

You have a few moments to glance around at the three brothers around you before the elevator halts, jarringly. Your superhuman reactions give you the chance to take in the room ahead of you as the door opens in the smallest fraction of a second. You see cargo crates, providing some measure of cover; you also see blank-eyed servitors with autorifles clutched in their fists. The Tech-Priests aboard the Voice of Thunder have clearly complied with requests for training materials. Then, towards the rear of the room you see two servitors, each with their arms replaced with a pair of heavy stubbers. As the roar of weapon fire fills the hold and a patter of bullets impacts against your armour, you begin to move... 

 

XBhKYsb.png

 

Initiative Order (AG+D10)

Thorvald: 4 + 9 (13) 

Akkad: 4  + 5 (9) 

Greysight: 4 + 4 (8) 

 

Sabaan: 4 + 3 (7)

Heavy Stubber Servitors (A-B ): 3 + 4 (7) 

Autogun-Armed Servitors (1-5): 3 + 2 (5) 

 

 

 

GM: You need to now decide if you are happy with your place in the initiative order, or if you wish to spend a fate point to re-roll. (You can handle the re-roll.) 

 

You typically have one full action or two half actions (along with a reaction.) See the actions list below: 

https://i.imgur.com/8zJxQeO.png

 

In your post, you should tell me what you would like to do - and I will go through the initiative order. You should have a "Plan A" and a "Plan B". That could be as simple as "I'd like to move towards the left, and shoot servitor A if possible. If not, I will shoot at servitor B." I anticipate that you might use a lot more green OOC during structured time. 

 

For reference, each "square" of the cargo hold is approximately 5 metres. The crates are approximately waist-high for the servitors, so about a metre tall. The ceiling of this cargo hold is about 15 metres high.  

 

 


Edited by Commissar Molotov, 11 March 2018 - 07:08 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.

#120
Mazer Rackham

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Akkad will spend a Fate Point to count as scoring 10 for Init and so will go first in his group.

 

With his helmet on and Cadence in his hands, his hearts beat in time to the metal clunking of the lift as it descended into the training area.  His fists tightened on the grips of the massive heavy weapon, her war-spirits keening for the release of violence.  His armour growled in readiness, the predator in abeyance, his biological systems awash with combat hormones.  Skin prickled under his steel shell, stomach tightening with not fear - never fear - anticipation.

 

The doors ground open and there in front were the servitors, armed and ready.  Autogun rounds and heavy stubber fire pinged and zapped past his head, clanking and ricocheting around the lift car.  He smiled grimly.  Any human in here would have been cut to ribbons he mused.  Then, as Thorvald hesitated a brief moment, he trusted to his Brothers to move naturally around him.  No words were needed and none were said.

 

The enemy had fired at them and now, Cadence would answer.

 

Akkad will remain still so he uses his full action for a FA burst.  He will now attack targets 5, 4, 3 and A as they are less than 2 metres apart.  If Akkad cannot see targets 5 or A, applying extra hits to the most dangerous of his targets.

 

Spoiler

 

The Heavy Bolter shells howled into the relatively cramped space of the cargo bay, striking several of the Servitors in turn in a hail of steel that suffered nothing to stand in front of it.  Shredding flesh and tearing the cybernetic metal of the servitors, the heavy rounds cleaved off limbs, left and right, finally decapitating a lobotomised human in shower of bloody gobbets.  Akkad's finger released the trigger as the belt feed ceased the supply of shells to the hungry beast of the Heavy Bolters' will.  He surveyed the damage and appreciated the work of his Brothers.

 

Edited with extra shots and etc.

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 11 March 2018 - 08:05 PM.


#121
Slips

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”Brother Tyber, cover fire!” Solastion states as the elevator doors open and stub ammunition starts to ricochet harmlessly around them. Varvost with me, Brother Atratus, flank.” he orders over the demi-squads vox network.

Already having drawn his Chainsword in his right hand and Bolt Pistol in the other, he starts rushing towards the target dummies, soild projectiles pinging harmlessly - for the most part - off his plate and notices Varvosts hesitance to act and makes mental note of it but does not stop to wait for him.

Moving towards the cluster of three servitors on his right, Solastion levels his Bolt Pistol and takes a shot on his way in.

Solastion will make a Standard Attack vs Servitor 5 with his Bolt Pistol and use his remaining half-action to move as far as he can go (~4m?)

 

BS 49 +/- No mods due to 30m Bolt Pistol Range and using a Standard Attack which is +0

BS49 Single Shot: 1d100 41 for a Single Hit no DoS.

Damage Roll: 1d10+9 15 Explosive Damage, Pen 4

Ammo: 13/14


Edited by Slips, 11 March 2018 - 07:46 PM.

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#122
Steel Company

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Being quick on the draw Tyber activates his jump pack to jump into the half cover provided by the three boxes in the north west corner of the cargo bay before he levels off his bolt pistol to squeeze off a round at the forward most servitor that is with in the optimal range for his shot.

ooc:
Shot at Servitor #5: 1d100 30

Hit location 03; head. (30, reversed is 03)

Bolt Pistol damage: 1d10+9 16 Pen 4

Watching the mass reactive shell bury itself into the target with a solid hit, the soggy wet explosion made a mess out of the target's head. This very action reminded Tyber of fighting the Necrons, he half waited for the servitor to reassemble itself, before preparing himself to jump into close combat with his arming sword.

Edited by Steel Company, 11 March 2018 - 08:03 PM.

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#123
A.T.

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Atratus stood patiently at the back of the elevator. Seniority had placed those in-front of him for this test of command but as the doors slid open he grimaced at the precious first few seconds slipping away as the others cleared the breech, his armour protesting at being held in check in the face of fire.

 

Flank. He could see Tyber catch himself to his left as Varvost paused, perhaps disinterested by such targets as these. With Solaston and the Eradicator moving across his path the Raptors only route was up and dead onwards into the gunfire.

 

Attack on servitor B: 1d100 23 (target 73 - charge with jump pack)

Hit location body

Chainsword damage: 1d10+14 tearing = 24 damage, pen 4 (failed righteous fury test)

(landing in a somewhat crouched position at servitor Bs square ready to leap aside as others turn to draw bead on him)

 

The crates did little to hide the bulk of his armour and jump pack even as he crashed down on top of one of the servitors and drove it to the ground. The blow was clean and well struck but Atratus thought little of it, no pride nor hatred for such sterile foes.

 

Turning towards the next target he took note of his squad mates advance, questioning his own choice of target and the manner in which the squad had deployed and unsure of what his squad leader had planned.

It was fortunate they had this time in transit to adjust, Atratus only hoped the captain had enough servitors on hand.



#124
Nineswords

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THE ROAR OF Akkad's heavy bolter was furious, laying down suppressing fire the moment the cargo bay's doors slid open with a hiss.
 
There. Seven targets, armed servitors positioned behind various crates. The hail of rounds was chewing through the bio-mechanical constructs before they could respond.
 
No, not suppressing fire at all, thought Greysight as he ran to his right, impressed by the precision of Akkad's aim.
 
The Storm Son raised his own bolt gun, noting the two targets ahead were untouched by Akkad's initial assault. Greysight aimed at the servitor closest to him, and squeezed the trigger. The bolt round hit true, punching through a meaty torso of pallid grey flesh before detonating, spraying the second servitor in sickly gore, its skin hanging loosely by its compatriot's shredded mechanics.
 
One left.
 
 

Spoiler


Edited by Nineswords, 12 March 2018 - 04:39 PM.

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#125
Commissar Molotov

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>>STRUCTURED TIME<<

 

Solastion, Vârvost, Tyber, Atratus

 

Initiative Order

Tyber (17)

Vârvost: (14) FATE POINT

Atratus (10)

Solastion (10)

Autogun-Armed Servitors (1-5) (10)

Heavy Stubber Servitors (A-B ) (7)

 

Brother Tyber moves first, leaping through the air with his jump pack to land behind cover. A single shot, almost a reflex action, and then the crump of a bolt shell detonating. The servitor, however, remains standing.

 

GM: Servitor 5 does not dodge (too mindless) and takes 16 damage (Pen 4) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 10 - so 6 damage. 

 

Vârvost ignites his jump pack as Solastion orders him forward. Landing amongst the group of servitors, he ignites his chain-axe and drives the howling weapon through the first of the mechanical men.

 

Spoiler

 

GM: Servitor 5 does not dodge (too mindless) and takes 25 damage (Pen 3) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 11 - so 14 damage. 

 

There is a shower of sparks, and yet it seems the axe does not strike true - or that there is not enough mortal flesh left inside the creature to feel pain. 

 

There is a crack as Solastion fires at the servitor - another fist-sized detonation, another chunk of metal and flesh torn away - and yet the creature stands. One of its fists is missing entirely - and yet it seems heedless of the loss.

 

GM: Servitor 5 does not dodge (too mindless) and takes 15 damage (Pen 4) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 10 - so 5 critical damage.

 

Vârvost snarls as this enemy proves more resilient than expected. 

 

On the other side of the cargo-space, Atratus crashes down onto one of the heavy stubber-armed servitors. It falls to the ground, wounded - but then the eyes seem to refocus as it slowly, inevitably, turns its head towards the Raptor. 

 

GM: Servitor B does not dodge (too mindless) and takes 24 damage (Pen 4) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 10 - so 14 damage.

 

Servitor 1 fires at Solastion

BS35 + 10 (Short Range) = 33 (HIT)

Damage: 1D10+3, Pen 0 = 6

Location: Left Arm

 

Servitor 2 fires at Solastion

BS35 + 10 (Short Range)  = 18 (HIT)

Damage: 1D10+3, Pen 0 = 4
Location: Right Arm 
 

Servitor 3 fires at Atratus

BS35 + 10 (Short Range) = 67 (MISS)

 

Servitor 4 fires at Atratus

BS35 + 10 (Short Range)  = 46 (MISS)

 

Servitor 5 fights in close combat with Vârvost

WS35-10 = 38 (MISS) 

WS 35-10 = 46 (MISS)  

 

The gunfire continues to hammer against your armour - but thus far there has been little purchase. 

 

Servitor A shoots at Solastion

Heavy Stubber 1 (Full Auto Burst): BS35-10 (DWW) +20 (FAB) = 7 (HIT) (3 Degrees of Success)

1: 2D10+4 = 19, Pen 2 (70 = BODY)

2: 2D10+4 = 17, Pen 2 (01 = HEAD)

3: 2D10+4 = 11, Pen 2 (94 = LEFT LEG)

4: 2D10+4 = 13, Pen 2 (02 = HEAD)

 

Heavy Stubber 2 (Full Auto Burst): BS35-10 (DWW) +20 (FAB) = 98 (MISS) (JAMMED) 

 

Servitor B shoots at Atratus


Heavy Stubber 1 (Full Auto Burst): BS35-10 (DWW) +20 (FAB) = 16 (HIT) (2 Degrees of Success)

1: 2D10+4 = 15, Pen 2 (61 = BODY)

2: 2D10+4 = 10, Pen 2 (33 = BODY)

3: 2D10+4 = 15, Pen 2 (04 = HEAD)

 


Heavy Stubber 2 (Full Auto Burst): BS35-10 (DWW) +20 (FAB) = 55 (MISS) 

 

(I assume Slips and A.T. will dodge? I need to read up on how that works.)
 
zQ4VZCH.png
 
Once we have resolved Slips and A.T., we can start a new turn. 
 
Sabaan, Greysight, Akkad, Thorvald

 

Initiative Order

Akkad (14) FATE POINT

Thorvald (13)

Greysight (8)

Sabaan (7)

Heavy Stubber Servitors (7)

Autogun Servitors (5)

 

The roar of the Heavy Bolter fills the hold as impacts rip through the servitors. 

 

GM: Servitor 5 does not dodge (too mindless) and takes 17 damage (Pen 5) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 9 - so 8 damage.

 

Servitor 4 does not dodge (too mindless) and takes 24 damage (Pen 5) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 9 - so 15 damage.

 

Servitor 3 does not dodge (too mindless) and takes 20 damage (Pen 5) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 9 - so 11 damage.

 

Servitor A does not dodge (too mindless) and takes 18 damage (Pen 5) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 9 - so 9 damage. It then takes 31 damage (Pen 5) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 9 - so 22 damage. This kills the servitor! 

 

The blast knocks back the servitors - though some remain - one of the heavy stubber servitors takes a bolt in the head, entirely vaporising it in a crimson mist. The lifeless body collapses to the ground, clattering to the deck. 

 

Thorvald moves behind cover, hefting his frag cannon. Almost simultaneously, Greysight brings his bolter up. There is the merest fraction of a second as the Storm Son sights his enemy and squeezes the trigger. 

 

Servitor 2 does not dodge (too mindless) and takes 30 damage (Pen 4) - 6 armour and TB8 reduces the damage by 10 - so 20 damage.

 

 

aQkWmN9.png

 

Waiting for Xin Ceithan and the turn will continue. 


Edited by Commissar Molotov, 12 March 2018 - 08:34 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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