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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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#1501
Mazer Rackham

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Atratus, Sabaan, Solation, Varvost:

 

It is a painfully slow drive to the Southwest Bastion, over an hour passes before the PDF vehicle pulls up short at an Arbites barricade.  The scene outside the Southwest bastion is absolute chaos.  Enforcers are clearing the square in short order and are occupying barricades in three streets.  A crowd has gathered to look at the leftovers of the carnage.  PDF troops and Enforcers have been shot and left in ignominy on the steps and across the square.  It is obvious there was a lot violence here.  The gates of the bastion are closed and blast shutters have been sealed over all but the upper portal.

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 07 August 2019 - 04:03 PM.

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#1502
Dosjetka

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Pointing at the highest-ranking member of the group, a corporal, Ghent spoke in a low gruff voice.

 

"What have you sighted, soldier? Speak quickly."


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


#1503
Mazer Rackham

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Ghent:

 

The Corporal reacts to you from his ingrained military drill and snaps to attention at your voice before he fully grasps the immense stature of the Astartes before him.

"My Lord, there seems to be some kind of commotion.  Nothing to do with us."  This last is added a little swiftly, but he jerks a thumb over his shoulder and steps back, shoving the men away from the magnoculars mounted int their old, rusted bracket.  Your enhanced eyesight needs no crude help.  Peering past him, there is the sign of a gathering of people clutching torches and staves, improvised weapons.  A robed figure stands atop the the main steps, banging at the gate hastily erected to prevent unwanted entry into the tower.  He seems to bickering, quite loudly with two soldiers posted on duty.  His voice finally carries to you.

 

"She will bring ruination upon us!  The Angel of Syndalla wills it!"  The crowd increase their shouting and mad flailing.

 

MR.


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#1504
Morovir

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Teralil cursed to himself. Descending the steps, he barked at the lieutenant:

 

"Keep your men alert but behind cover. I'm going down there to restore the power. Endure as the Emperor would have you."

 

Heading towards the power generator, he mag-locked his bolter to his thigh and hefted his breaching augur. If anything had got through to attack the generator, he did not want to risk causing further damage.

 

+++Upon arriving at the generator, Teralil will make whatever roll is necessary to try and repair it.+++


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#1505
Mazer Rackham

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Teralil:

 

The Lieutenant salutes you and busies his men.  His air is competent and he sets his jaw grimly.  "Yes Lord."

 

The Generator is mightily vexed.  It is clear that insufficient maintenance routines have caused this unholy error.  The Enginseer stares up at you with cold eyes, the bionic implants which would have once been filled with the light of knowledge now stale and dim.  He has obviously tried to make a hasty repair and been caught in Sigma Pattern combined gear matrix, a standard power drive you have seen myriad times, both on your homeworld and upon hallowed Mars.  The power conduits have failed at the third and fifth relay, but this is not a problem.

 

The real problem is that the doors are closed.  Without power to the main doors, your brothers will not be able to enter the sanctum of the firebase.

 

 

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 07 August 2019 - 08:21 PM.

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#1506
Reyner

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OOC perception test

Spoiler

 

Akkads flamer roared a cone of searing promethium towards the Lictor but its insane agility allowed it to dance out of the way of the fire. Vorr snapped round to the direction Akkad had indicated and decided now was the time for total unbridled fury and readies his Soundstrike Missile Launcher.

//Assault Pattern Beta - Fire For Effect//

The tactical plan from Akkad was sound and frag missiles would be of more use compared to a salvo from the shotgun, the shrapnel from the explosions had a high chance to clip the alien and make it bleed which would make it even easier to see. Then he saw it. The shimmer of the Lictor moving through its environment like a ghost from a nightmare the light bending around the chitin and muscle compromised by the flaming crop all around it. Vorr locked eyes with the creature as they briefly glowed back at him before it started to turn away. His feet planted in the dirt and his armour locking tight to brace himself Vorr squeezed the trigger and a frag missile screamed out of his launcher on a plume of smoke and flame. Roaring in fury as in servo arm loads another missile Vorr fires a second missile that exploded in the general direction the Lictor had been moving, burning crops and earth shot out in all directions as the frag munitions detonate tearing the crops to shreds and hopefully injuring the Lictor. The tall wheat like crop in front of the squad was scythed by mercileslly as the rest of them opened up adding more flames and debris as bolt rounds chewed up everything in an overlapping field of devastation. If it bleeds they could follow its trail as it retreats or comes for them again.

 

OOC actions

 

Half Action: Standard Attack (Frag Missile)

BS: 58 +20 (Size) +10 (Close Range) = 88
Damage resolved at Pen 4 Blast (5)
D100 Roll: 50
Damage: 6+9=15
Location: 77 = Right Leg

 

Vorr enters Squad Mode with Akkad and Yeng

 

Half Action: Standard Attack (Frag Missile)

BS: 58 +20 (Size) +10 (Close Range) = 88
Damage resolved at Pen 4 Blast (5)
D100 Roll: 48
Damage: 6+4=10
Location: 30 = Left Arm


Edited by Reyner, 09 August 2019 - 12:53 PM.

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#1507
apologist

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His world narrowed; became immediate. The pressure of the thick leather-rubber of his internal gauntlet as he adjusted his grip on the boltgun; the acrid stench of smoke and the cinnamon-stink of astartes blood.

 

If the damn thing was invisible, he certainly wasn't going to play its game. 

 

Forcing his eyes to remain closed, he dismissed the intrusive neural prompts of his autosenses' hood as it tried to bypass his optic nerves and push the suit's own visualisation to resolve in his brain's optic sensors.

 

Nothing.

 

Yeng's ears strained; trying to filter out the crackle of smouldering crops, the hum of his armour, the diastolic thump of his heart, the hiss of the wind, and the hundred other distractions. A moment in the dark passed. Another. 

 

The taunting, stolen crackle-cackle that suddenly erupted to his rear might have distracted a human, but anything sophisticated enough to camouflage its physical presence would almost certainly have ways of confusing other senses.

 

Part of his mind – a small part, partitioned by Astartes training – churned, actively sifting and creatively modelling what other baffles it might be deploying; what weird ways it had of hiding itself from more esoteric senses; alien senses beyond even his superhuman capabilities.

 

His eyes darted back and forth beneath closed lids; instinct fighting against experience hard-won against another invisible species. 

 

Then... there.

 

An orphan sound. A windless rustle in the crops to his left. With a fluid motion, he swapped the weapon selector even as he turned and fired; his eyes flicking open at the crack-whoosh of the first dragonfire shell.

 

"Quarry exposed and engaged: fifty steps; windward of where I stand."


Edited by Apologist, 09 August 2019 - 11:35 AM.

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The Alien Wars – Blood Angels in the Nova Terra Interregnum | May You Live Forever – A narrative Iron Hands blog

Officio Monstrosa – Iron Warriors during the siege of Terra | The Praetors of Calth – Ultramarines from Crusade to Scouring


#1508
Mazer Rackham

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Yeng and Vorr:

 

Lictor's Concealment (AG40+20): 58 (PASS, Plus 2 x DoS due to Unnat Agile) 
Vorr's Perception:  42 (PASS, 2 DoS)  
(Your DoS is equal, but Vorr rolled lower and Player has priority, so Vorr beats the Lictor!)

Yeng's Perception: 13 (PASS, 4 DoS)

 

Both Vorr and Yeng spot the Lictor.  Vorr is the faster, taking the initiative and hefting his missile launcher, blasts a projectile at the creature, all but a shimmer in front of him, with a mighty thump of displaced air.  In a moment, blast heat and shrapnel carve a circular hole in the reed, blitzing the tall grass into shreds as if a giant fist had swatted them.

 

Vorr:

 

Vorr BS test: 50, Hit 3 DoS

Lictor Attempts Dodge: 40 + 20 (Dodge) = 83 FAIL

Damage: 15 (4 Pen) vs TB 8 and Armour 2 = 5 Damage Right Leg.

The Lictor, poised so closely to attack, is surprised by the ferocity of the assault and snakes away, flexing and twisting to evade the harm.  It is too slow.  A slick of purplish alien ichor splatters out in a thin strand, smearing the reeds where it just stood, but the Red Talon has seen, he has wounded it, but once again it has disappeared into the long grasses.

(Vorr will get his other Missile shot as a Reaction from the Squad Mode).

 

Yeng:

 

Concentration, that is the key, the deep thunder of the Red Talon's frag missile only provides the bass complement of the music of life that surrounds you - the riot of noise.  Your attention drawn by the hiss and rupture of flesh, your eyes closed as the quarry attempts to vex your determination.  But...no.  Simply, no.  Your body pivots, your finger caresses the trigger of your boltgun.

 

Yeng BS test: 18, HIT 2 DoS

Lictor Attempts Dodge: 40 + 20 (Dodge) = 29 PASS, 3 DoS

Damage: 0

 

The Alien, in a feat of amazing agility, driven to anger by being already stung by a Frag missile contorts away from the explosive detonations of the flaming bolts, avoiding harm by the thinnest of margins, but what it did not count upon was the quality of the Deathwatch wargear and as it flails and flips, the flames catch it ever so briefly - but it is enough.  The Red Talon sweeps around at your call, another thump of air announcing his second shot, once more blasting the reeds into splinters and clods of earth, tossing them skywards.

 

Vorr BS test: 48, Hit 4 DoS

Lictor cannot Dodge again!

Damage: 10 (4 Pen) vs TB 8 and Armour 2 = 0 Damage.

 

The aftermath is muted, the terrible sound of battle echoes flatly across the crop fields.  The breath of winds rattles the seedpods on some of the reed tops.  Then the growl, low and inconsistent, hollow.  The Lictor is still out there....past the curtain of reeds.

 

Round 2: Continues

 

Squad Status:
[x] Tyber | AG48 (4x2)+4: 16 | WOUNDS 1/20 | FATE 2/5 (Unconscious 3/6 Rounds)
[x] Brakan Vorr | AG50 (5)+5: 10 | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 3/4 (SQUAD)
[x] Oto Yeng | AG40 (4)+6: 10 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/3 (SQUAD)

[ ] Morthas Teralil | AG40 (4)+5: 9 | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 4/4 
[ ] Daon Akkad | AG45 (4)+4: 8 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/4 (SQUAD)

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 09 August 2019 - 01:52 PM.

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#1509
Mazer Rackham

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Morthas Teralil:

 

Strength Test: 80 FAIL (No DoF)

Tech-Use Test: 61 Pass (No DoS)

Perception Test: 23, Pass (1 DoS)

 

The Mechanism is jammed well.  It was clear the foolish Enginseer did not apply the correct rites - but as the Obsidian Glaives know well, punishment for sin is seldom without merit.  You wrangle the corpse out of the way in a shower of sparks and twisting gears.  You have been unable to extricate all of him, but you trust in the Cog.  The fuses are easily and quickly replaced with non-essential parts from other fuse-boxes and conduits, it is a trivial matter, made only vaguely perverse by a lack of the proper unguents, but the Sigma-Epsilon linkage machinery was designed to be robust and allow for...tolerances.

 

The machinery sparks into life once more and the worthless Enginseer's remains are crushed into tiny flakes by the close mesh of the gears in the machine.  It is fitting, for what the Omnissiah Produceth, he also taketh for Recycling.  Hopefully it will be of more use than his last incarnation.

 

Finally, checking over the parts and workings you spot something amiss.  This class of engine uses several prescribed parts and some of them have been altered or removed altogether.  You know full well they would trade for a great deal underhandedly.  There is a thief amongst the garrison and worse, he is a blasphemer against the Omnissiah.

 

Ghent:

 

The sounds of an Astartes are not subtle - indeed, you revel in the lack of meekness your warplate makes and your thunderous approach is  a testament to the shock ferocity of the Space Marines and yes, the crowd gathered are more interested in the preaching of the robed man in front of them.  They raise lanterns and torches and shout amongst themselves.  The zealot at the head of the steps is a preacher indeed - but his robes are not standard for an Ecclesiarch, being more fine and ornate.  He only increases the pitch of his tirade as he finally sees you, light splashing from your sable and sliver armour.

 

"The Witch brings the wrath of the heavens!"  He cries, "Behold one of the mighty Sons of Him on Terra!  He comes to witness your faith!"

 

"Burn the witch!  Burn the Witch!"  The crowd takes up the chant.  There are more gathering and would easily number a hundred people.

 

Solastion, Atratus, Varvost, Sabaan:

 

A woman's head appears framed in the light of the upper portal, just behind it you can see another, balding head, with a bearded face.  The barrel of a heavy stub pistol is pushed firmly into the woman's ear, she is crying and in a good deal of distress.  A deep and strong voice rolls across the square.

"We've got hostages and wired this place to blow!  We want off this rock!  If we don't get a shuttle here in one hour, you better start praying!"  He vanishes and a hasty barricade appears to have been slipped into place.

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 09 August 2019 - 02:18 PM.

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#1510
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Atratus exchanges the microexplosive needles in his sniper rifle for conventional hypertoxins and slips silently away to find a vantage point. The utility of a shuttle outweighed that of the hydra platform but negotiations might provide opportunity to preserve both, if only by distracting those inside.

 

"Brother Sabaan, the fortification appears to be of standard template construction. Once I am in position I will establish the location of the traitors are request your knowledge on probable lines of sight and demolition charge locations."


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#1511
Slips

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++Protect your ears, mortals.++ spoke Solastion to the mortals in his immediate vicinity.

 

Cranking up his vox grille to its loudest setting to make sure the traitors inside could hear him, he spoke in calm, grave and measured tones.

 

++Traitors to the Imperium, we are giving you four options.

 

  1. Surrender peacefully and no one dies.
  2. Detonate the explosives you have killing all of you and riding us of a future problem.
  3. We give you a shuttle and subsequently shoot it out of the sky because we suffer not the Traitor to live.
  4. We strand you all in there and let the xenos take care of you all, and if they don't put you all out of your misery, we come in and finish the job once we have finished dealing with them.

Either way, scum, you have four choices to make, three of them result in you dying a most horrible and painful death and one of them permits you to attempt re-entering the good graces of the Emperor of Mankind. And if you think those trapped in there with you are Hostages then you would be incorrect for all I see are brave Martyrs who will be immortalized forever on Syndalla for standing up against treasonous scum.

 

The choice is yours.++


Edited by Slips, 09 August 2019 - 04:50 PM.

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#1512
Xin Ceithan

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Placeholder

In which Sabaan provides the details on the situation according to Augur Array and Security Skill use, suggesting the most likely assault pattern
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#1513
Mazer Rackham

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Solastion:

 

The Proctor Martial, the chief enforcer for the district approaches you after your...speech.  He approaches carefully, taking care he is concealed from direct view of the bastion portals.  His eyes sweep the plaza and his jaw tightens as he regards the dead Enforcers spread out there.  It is obvious they have tried to get in and have been repelled.

"My Lord, we have set up a temporary command centre if you will follow me?"

 

Atratus:

 

The building would have been perfect.  The sight lines are good, cover is prominent in the form of exposed pipes and ducts, rockrete chimneys and low connecting walls.  A tall chimney casts a shadow over the position.  From here you can see a lot of the flat rooftops of the district, obviously commercial in nature once, now each a rubble-strewn and part collapsed graveyard.  It would be perfect...but the bastion, built into the tall walls of the city stretches up above you by at least one storey, crowned at the top with the Hydra emplacement.  Still, it is the best perch and you are 100 metres away, with a steady North-South wind and humidity isn't too bad.

 

Setting up, you can see the top portal barricade is merely an old, rusty door, but the other portals are covered with something a lot more hardy: plasteel blast shields.  Still, it is fortunate that none of the portals still contain their heavy bolter mounts, facing inside at least.  You can see movement through the viewports in the portals, they have not doused the lights inside and occasionally, a sliver of silhouette flashes past.  The bastion itself is a structurally re-enforced rockrete (16 Points Armour)

(Give me a Perception test please then AT with normal bonuses; each DoS gets you some info about inside thanks to your cool gadget).

 

Sabaan:

 

The Bastion is of Imperial construction, made to withstand attack and made by brothers of the Metallicum Fabrica in the district which now house them.  The construction is enlarged, but that is not uncommon.  Having considered this, what is also not uncommon is shoddy workmanship when deviating from an STC.

(Security Skill Check +10 and normal Int check/Tech Use on the Augur Array please).

 

Varvost chuckles coldly after Solation's speech.  He looks at the other members of the kill-team meaningfully and pats his chainAXE.

"Kill them all."  He says quietly.  "I approve."

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 09 August 2019 - 08:56 PM.

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#1514
Slips

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++Lead on, Proctor.++ he motioned, for the mortal to lead.


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#1515
Mazer Rackham

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Atratus:

 

Spoiler

 

Sabaan:

 

Spoiler

 

Solastion:

 

As the Proctor Marshal nods and guides you to the temporary command centre, you can see a cables and light-packs set up to cogitator banks and a small generator powering a portable holotable.  Displayed in lithospheric brilliance is a neon wireframe of the bastion in standard layout.  A brother of the Fabricatum Metallica stands by, although it is clear his interest is in the holotable and nothing else.

 

A commotion at the door filters through your Lyman's Ear but only becomes of note when a voice is raised and a scuffle of Enforcers breaks out.

"Angel of Syndalla!  Angel, Emperor, have mercy!  My daughter is the prisoner of those men!  Have mercy, please!"

An Enforcer beats the wind out him and knocks him to the ground.  He wears coveralls of a manual menial worker.  The tools in his belt tumble out onto the floor in a rain of clanking metal as he is 'dissuaded'.

The Proctor Martial turns to you. "Forgive us my Lord, we are stretched thin - traitors abound.  We are dealing with a depository raid north of here and a missing Conveyor of the Mechanicum.  It has been a long day."

 

 

Akkad:

 

Knowing the beast was out of range of his Flamer, Daon drew Sonnet and fired on Yeng's mark.

Free Action: Pull Bolt Pistol

Reaction: Standard Attack Bolt Pistol

BS Test: 52 +30 (Size) -10 (Range) = 72

D100: 91 FAIL

 

Full Turn:

Declare Maintain Squad Mode.

Free Action holster Flamer

Free Action Hoster Sonnet.

Half Action: Half Move to Tyber

Half Action: Pick Tyber up

 

Str Test: 50 + 20 (Armour) = 70

D100: 98 FAIL (and Jam?)

FATE: 31, Pass plus 3 DoS + 2 DoS (from Unnat Str).

 

+Let us fall back, we can fire on the move and call in the mortars!+

 

Lictor:

The Kill Team sense more than hear the closeness of the beast ebb, then the crackling of lasguns become the crushing of stalks and displacement of earth as the creature seems to move further away.  The grass parts as a wave some 55 metres away, roughly where Yeng had spotted the beast.  It ripples in a tide of shifting foliage and then it stops, feathering out after another 10, then 20, then 30 metres.  Then nothing.

 

The direction of travel is misleading because of the grass, but it is heading toward the Firebase.

 

Teralil is in a strange position as he half-in, half out of the combat  - Morovir, the firebase does have power and an autocannon turret is available if you wish to 'Electro-Graft@ to it Noospherically?

 

Unless Yeng wants to use his Reaction to take a shot at the beast, after Teralil, the turn ends.

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 11 August 2019 - 01:26 PM.

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#1516
Xin Ceithan

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+++ The complex is basically a Kropius Pattern bastion structured that has been expanded to it's current dimensions.+++

A lux wire model formed as Sabaan exloaded the Augur readings across the demiclave link.

++ There are inherent weaknesses to the structure at these locations, ++ nodes of lux blinked ++as well as some additional structural faults at these coordinates resulting from deviation on the STC as well as sloppy craftsmanship++

The Iron Hand's left little doubt that he was suggesting anyone involved in this sort of sloppiness should be rounded up and shot along with the traitors already inside.
>> Or better yet, buried inside, along with that scum <<

++Most weak points seem to be located around the second floor. ++ More blips. ++ Those should also facilate multi spectrum scans.++
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#1517
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"Acknowledged. Five confirmed targets, possibly more. Two high, three low moving in groups. Unarmed individuals on the central floor. Main entrance trapped."


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#1518
Slips

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++Are you able to discern if any singular individual is in possession of the detonator, Brother Atratus?++


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#1519
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"Not at this time, stand by"

 

Lowering his rifle Atratus scanned the nearby area for any onlookers who might be aiding the gang members with signals or preparing a fresh ambush. Once satisfied the area is clear he quickly moved closer, another vantage point bringing him a few short jumps from the building itself.


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#1520
apologist

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[OOC: Medicae test. Int: 54(5); +20 for narthecium; D100 roll = 73. I'm assuming that's a bit crap, so I'm going to spend a FAte Point (right?) to reroll; for 23, which looks a bit better.]

 

Suppressing a snarl, Yeng reluctantly lowers his boltgun. There is no clear shot, and he has more pressing matters on hand now the threat seems to be receding. "Brother-tech; the beast is heading in your direction. Be advised of how slippery it is!"

 

He holsters his weapon, then kneels, bringing his attention to the wounded Dragon at his feet. 

"Hm."

 

Major trauma to both arms; possible sucking chest wound – though that would be being partially managed by the plate. Powerful blows. 

 

Drawing a pair of cables from his narthecium with his left hand, he rummages roughly around behind Tyber's head with his right, his fingers clumsy in the pooling blood. He feels the catch slide wetly as he pulls the emergency release, and lifts the helm away. The handsome face beneath is pale; the lips bloodless and drawn back slightly from reddened teeth in an unconscious pained snarl. Delving in with his left hand, Yeng uses one of the cables – a hissing tube – to greedily suck away some of the excess blood. A brass and glass vessel hanging atop the narthecium begins to fill will half-clotted blood; the mixture a poxy concoction of bright scarlet and black. Cleared, he detaches a plug from the rear of Tyber's head and slips the dire-gnostic cable into place.

 

A screed of runes runs impassively down his visual field while his hands work busily, removing the bracers and rerebraces to reveal the heavily gouged arms. Yeng and Tyber's black armour are matched: glossy with blood. 

 

Palpating the muscle; he keeps his face measured, impassive. A litany ran from his lips, half-heard, "...no broken bones...no; correction – fractured ulna: dexter. Fissures in the epicondyle: dexter. Bilious temperament waxing. Compensate with 215cc..." He draws two more cables down. Looking up and away in concentration, he slips his fingers inside the rupture in the chest, lifting slightly. His brow furrows.

 

"Princes atop; he's a big bastard." 

 

He grunts, pulls again at the hardened caparace, and there is a creak. The carapace flexes just enough for him to introduce the two cables; one drawing fluid out into another jar; the second pumping counterseptic and mineral-laden saline back in. The forge of strength must be in overdrive, he muses. A pause.

 

There is something wrong.

 

"Hm." This grunt is consternation. The immune response is heightened. The Gatebreaker peers closer, lenses ticking into place on his helm. Parasites. Xeno-parasites. Must have been introduced by the attack. Reminds him of the geno-poisons of the Fhe-he. Acting on a hunch, he slows the blood cycle; deliberately starving the muscle tissues of oxygen. Immediately, Tyber's skin pales, his lips turn purple; and Yeng selectively oxygenates the victim's sus-an membrane and brain to prevent degradation and override. He rewards himself with a smile as he sees the parasite's metabolic rate slow. Analgesics and rawpium seem to return them to a dormant state; and Tyber's hyper-immune system begins to rally.

 

Yeng looks left, then right, then uses a set of forceps to brace the rent in the torso. Delving deeper, he takes a knife to the biscopea, slicing a sample from the black ball-shaped organ. He places this reverently in a vessel at his hip, where it clinked against the jars containing his fallen Deathwatch brethren's progenoids, Echion's multilung, Montessa's withered Betcher's gland and primary heart; and sundry other surgical by-matter from the others of Swordhand.

 

Drawing a calligraphic brush from a pouch, Yeng deftly paints a closed eye on Tyber's forehead with soot-black ink; a simple curved shape. Breathing a litany, he crosses his thumb back and forth over the shape, then pairs the curve and adds a pupil – the result a staring, open eye to ward away daimons who would seek to draw the injured Dragon's strength.

 

Using a curved needle that looks strong enough to puncture canvas, he begins sewing up the Dragon's arms using silver thread. It's tight, neat work; the signature of a Gatebreaker Gentle. The vital signs are stabilising; the red sleep averted. He isn't going to be fighting any time soon; but he might walk out of here...


Edited by Apologist, 15 August 2019 - 01:50 PM.

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#1521
Mazer Rackham

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Solastion, Sabaan, Atratus, Varvost:

 

There is a sudden shift of the flimsy barrier from the top portal a young face framed with long auburn hair and red-rimmed eyes is pushed forward and the barrel of a Imperial Guard grenade launcher pokes out past her.  It is matched by the second story plasteel shutter opening wide enough to admit a Guard Heavy Bolter.  Lasguns appear in gunports that ring the front of the bastion.

 

GM: The enemy will be treated a single Horde.

The Enemy is completely in cover (Rockrete 13pts)

You have identified Weak points on Levels 2 and 3 and these may be exploited with a called shot (Rockrete 9pts) or may be breached with a Krak grenade.

The Heavy Bolter is an emplacement behind (Plasteel 18pts), with a traverse of 90 degrees to front and elevation of same.

Vision ports in the emplacement may be exploited to eliminate cover altogether, but this will incur a penalty of -30 due to size.

 

"Alright you bastards!  If you want it that way - here it fragging is!"

 

Gentlemen.  We now Roll Initiative.

 

Round 1:

[ ] Solastion AG 3 x 2 (LR) = 6 + 7 = 13 | WOUNDS 23/23 | FATE 4/4 

[x] Varvost AG 5 + 5 = 10 | WOUNDS 24/24 | FATE 3/3

[ ] Sabaan AG 4 + 6 = 10 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/3 

[ ] Atratus AG 6 + 3 = 9 | WOUNDS 23/23 | FATE 3/3

 

Enemy Horde: 3 + 2 = 5 (Magnitude xx)

 

If you wish to activate any abilities or Solo Modes or Use Fate to go first, please go ahead.

Feel free to let me know if there is anything I have missed or to discuss anything with me in the OOC Thread.

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 15 August 2019 - 05:40 PM.

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#1522
A.T.

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(Concealment roll for Atratus's current position, some 50-60m away)

D100 = 31 vs skill 90 (-30 for armour, +10 holding position, -10 hulking) = 2 extra degrees of success, plus any bonuses for cover and distance.


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#1523
Slips

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OOC: Solastion Activates Burst of Speed to boost his Agi Bonus from 3 -> 5 for 1 round; His movement then changes to 6/12/18/36 doubled by his Jump Pack to 12/24/36/72.

He will also, as a series of free actions: Ready his Chainsword and Bolt Pistol and Activate Frenzy in himself and Varvost (part of his Sanguinary Priest ability) which gives the following effects: +10 WS, Str, Tgh and WP but -20 BS and Int.
 

Being Frenzied, Solastion has the Berserk Charge Talent which gives him a +20 to Weapon Skill when charging and Battle Rage which lets him Parry while Frenzied.

 

As an Action, Solastion will then Charge the fool that decided to make himself vulnerable in the way that he did (if possible).

 

Per Varvosts post I assume Solastion also has to make a pilot personal test due to obscured target vs agi 33. Decided to use my new physical obsidian dice and they rolled a 99. massive failure.

 

WS 49 + 10 (frenzy) + 20 (berserk charge) = 79. Rolled 70; Fate Point Reroll = 45 for 3 or 4 DoS I reckon. Hit Location = Body.

 

 

++Then may the Emperor show you mercy for the Great Angel deems you unworthy of it.++ and in an inhuman flash, the Sanguinary Priest took to the skies and fell upon the makeshift entryway into the Bastion, his Chainsword coming down into a downward chop with enough power behind it to cause even a Rhino's hull to buckle beneath it.

 

Assuming the attack hits: Solastion's Chainsword deals 1d10+17 (3+13+1) Damage rolling 2 extra d10's for damage and taking the highest of the three thanks to the Flesh Render Talent.

Damage Roll: 6, 2, 10. Taking the 10.

Target is not xenos thus a WS test using the same modifiers to see if Righteous Fury is scored: RF Roll = 79, success so an extra d10 of Damage = 4.

Total Damage Dealt assuming a hit is scored: 10 + 17 + 4 = 31 Rending Damage, Pen 3.

 

In a veritable explosion of dust and debris, the Crimson Knight's impact with the makeshift barrier was nothing short of a localized explosion, left all those alive to witness it slack jawed at how fast it occurred and the sheer power behind it.

 

Standing fully upright in the portal that lead into the building, his Vox Caster deafeningly blared ++I HAVE SHOWN MERCY AND YOU ALL SPIT ON THE OLIVE BRANCH! YOUR DEATHS SHALL BE JUSTIFIED AND OF THE UTMOST CRUELTY IMAGINABLE FOR THOSE WHO WOULD TURN THEIR BACKS ON THE IMPERIUM!++


Edited by Slips, 15 August 2019 - 06:03 PM.

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#1524
Mazer Rackham

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Solastion:

The Crimson Knight erupts through the wall - although not precisely where he wanted.

 

It is clear that nothing is impediment to the Astartes - Rockrete, nor threats, nor death itself will obviously stay him from his divine mandate to inflict justice and deliver wrath upon the foes of the Emperor.  He also is slick with gore, two criminals as well as the hostage have been obliterated and now are mingled in death on the armour of this merchant of slaughter, coated in thick grey power as if he has stepped from the pit of hell.  Gobbets of the Crimelord's underlings clog the teeth of a chainsword the length of a human being and the tower trembles as the flimsy wood explodes into splinters.

 

Large clumps of masonry rain down into the square like tombstones and the sound of his proclamation is the hammer of death against an anvil of might.  The criminals are cowed.

 

"Well, what are you waiting for?"  The Crimelord screams.  "Kill him or keep him busy!"

 

Varvost:

Snarling at the threat, he wrathfully tears his chainAXE free and ignites his jump pack, declaring a charge in support of his brother at the uppermost window.

 

Free Action: Ready ChainAXE

Free Action: Draw Bolt Pistol

Full Action: Charge

Personal Pilot Test (Obscured target): AG 54 

D100: 99 FAIL

 

Attack Roll: WS 72 +10 (Charge) = 82

D100: 005 Pass, Plus 7 DoS.

Damage resolved at Pen: 3

Damage: 1D10 (2D10 Tearing) + 5 (Damage) + 10 (SB) = 22

Location: Body

 

Crimelord: Dodge

AG: 34

D100: 14, Pass, 2 DoS.

 

Varvost's crazed leap causes no damage to the Criminal swine within, however a shower of gore falls over him where his mighty chainaxe hacks deeply into another hostage, now all condemned as Martyrs by the words of the Crimson Knight, spilling her lifeblood over him and tumbling her head to the square below.  He dangles now, 30 metres above ground by a single arm, his Bolt pistol abandoned to arrest his fall with a free hand.  A tumble of Rockrete dust and rubble follow it in a sad cascade.

 

The man in the menial worker's garb is horrified.  "My child!" He wails and although an Enforcer thumps a baton into him again to drive him to his knees, he does not relent.

 

The Criminals are now confronted by two gore-drenched Astartes but seeing the second fail and almost fall, the invincibility of the Angels of Death is dented and the malcontents gain heart, but in the pregnant pause you can see thick bands of detcord running up the walls and across the floor, to substantial bands of industrial grade explosive.  Power cables have been diverted from properly sanctified conduits to act as priming charges.  Does their blasphemy know no end?

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 15 August 2019 - 06:30 PM.

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#1525
A.T.

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The attack had come sooner than expected, the method of detonating the explosives still unclear from his position. But the grenade launcher might well provide the spark, and Varvosts charge had provided the opportunity.

 

The marksman rifle fired silently but the effect was immediate, the toxins contained within intended to deal with far more dire threats than man, stripping away flesh and even bone like acid. That the shot had hit only a limb in its haste would simply prolong the inevitable.

 

Spoiler


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