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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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#1551
Commissar Molotov

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DAY 31
++3:09:01 since initial Tyranid planetfall++

Solastion, Atratus, Vorr, Varvost and Teralil:
The Valshari Mountains, Syndalla

Insertion via jump pack from high orbit is of course one of many tactics contained within the voluminous tracts of the Codex Astartes, though it is perhaps one favoured by Chapters such as the Hawk Lords or the venerated Raven Guard. For the Deathwatch, however, any tactic that brings you closer to victory is a laudable one. This you learnt among many lessons in your initiation to this brotherhood.

The deployment ramp of the Valkyrie carrier vibrates beneath your feet as it opens to the darkness of night; as you close to the edge you feel the howling wind claw at you, tugging at the purity seals affixed to your armour.

++Approaching the drop zone.++ The pilot of the Valkyrie has performed admirably, not betraying any nervousness or doubt. You are four miles above the coordinates relayed to you by the Imperial Navy strategicians, a dam in the Valshari Mountains that holds back a mighty reservoir used to irrigate many square miles of arable farmland. Farmland you will plunge beneath tonnes of water in an attempt to deny the Tyranids an easy access to Beregar city.

Each of you bears the heavy jump packs that, until now, have been the preserve of the Kill-Team's Vanguard; they are a somewhat less familiar sight on the Red Talon and the Obsidian Glaive. The soundstrike-pattern missile launcher carried by Vorr has been strapped away and mag-locked to his armour alongside the many demolition charges neessary to complete the objective. Teralil's servo-arm is folded to one side, like a bird's wing, though it still seems to twitch with unconscious movement. Vârvost's armour, battered and dented, radiates murderousness in the red light of the hold. He holds his bolt pistol and chain-axe in his hands as though he might use them to demolish the dam alone. The Raptor, Atratus, prepares his armour and weaponry with calculated precision that betrays his familiarity with this way of war. Each of them, in their own way looks to Solastion, the Priest of Sanguinius, the so-called Angel of Syndalla.

As the countdowns diminish into nothingness and you stare out into the darkness, you see the dam itself as nothing but a black line, illuminated faintly in the darkness by stab-lights; you rely less on your enhanced eyes and instead on illuminated map-diagrams that overlay your helm display with crawling rune-text annotations and trajectories that have been calculated and uploaded from the Xenocide's central cogitators.

There are mere seconds before you launch yourself into the darkness and descend like the fabled angels of death you were always intended to be.

Akkad, Sabaan, Greysight, Ghent and Yeng:
Vinov, Syndallan Outer Reaches

You descend on wings of fire to the tormented earth of a dying world. As you complete your last armour and restraint checks and recite the prayers of orbital deployment, the thunderous, claustrophobic hold of the Stormraven Spearcast is filled with raucous sirens warning of imminent planetfall. As the heat rises and flames lick at the viewports, the gunship bucks and shakes violently as it meets atmospheric resistance. Your helm-displays inform you that you are experiencing forces that would turn a normal man into boneless pulp. Thankfully, you are far from normal men. All too soon, the tremors subside and the flames enveloping the Storm Raven's exterior fade away, affording you your first glimpse of the surface of your target world.

Vinov is a world in the final stages of consumption by the Tyranid splinter fleet - and truly, the Great Devourer has desecrated this place. The planet has been reduced to a barren wasteland. Rivers of digestive fluid snake across the violated earth, whilst capillary towers twist into the sky like fingers clawing at the underbellies of the bilious yellow-green clouds that shroud the landscape. Spore chimneys disgorge thick, noxious columns of vapour and in the distance your enhanced vision can make out dark flocks of airborne creatures.

Orbital insertion under combat conditions is perilous at the best of times, but you have little understanding what awaits you on this world. Interrogator Ryken's signal was broadcast from somewhere on this former mining colony; as you break through the churning clouds to the open sky beneath, it is clear that you must locate him quickly, before you attract the attention of Tyranids within the region.

The time for prayers is over. Now is the time for bold deeds.

GM:
The Gunship will require three crew: a pilot, who can operate the forward-mounted heavy bolters and missiles; a gunner in the upper turret manning twin-linked assault cannon and a crew member within the hold manning the Stormraven's auspex arrays to warn of approaching Tyranids and to locate Ryken's signal. Please can the players determine who will be taking each of the positions.

Edited by Commissar Molotov, 08 October 2019 - 07:59 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.

#1552
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Atratus stepped to the edge of the ramp, though not the senior a task of this nature favoured practicality of deployment over any questions of honour to be first into the fray.

 

The scorched skies of the planet had blunted the tyranids initial deployment of airborne creatures and the opportunity to strike at targets more distant from the city could not be passed up during this time. Readying his scope he awaited the order to drop from the valkyrie and survey their target while trusting in his brothers to deal with any more immediate threats.


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#1553
Mazer Rackham

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+I shall cover our blind spot.+ Akkad declared as the others leapt into action, the Stormraven swooping and cutting through the poisoned and tortured air.  He strode purposefully, but without haste, to the back of the compartment and maglocked himself down with a electro-snap of his boots to deck.  He jabbed the release for the rear deployment ramp with a stubby, ceramite-shot finger, the howling air spilling about him, the protest of hydraulics a mechanical whine as the ramp yawned open.

 

Under his helmet he grinned, latched a security winch to his hip and gripped the jump bar to brace himself.  He jammed Cadence between hip and elbow, steering her maw with his right hand, menacing the void below and behind the spacecraft...watching.

 

MR.


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#1554
Commissar Molotov

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Akkad, Sabaan, Greysight, Ghent and Yeng

As Spearcast's rear ramp opens, a swirl of gritty dust churns through the open hold. Indicator runes flash red on Yeng's vambrace as the medicae-sensors within detect the presence of microbial Tyranid life; xenos spores carried on the wind. You know that any of you without your helms or a rebreather would risk contamination, despite your superhuman physiologies; were your armour to be compromised, you would equally be at threat. Thankfully, during your tenure upon Vinov you can at least rely upon Sabaan and his skill as an armourer.

With Sabaan piloting and operating the forward weapons, Ghent taking the dorsal turret and the Astral Claw stationed at the rear of the gunship, it falls to Greysight to man the auspex arrays. His expertise at tracking and scouting on the ground may now provide him with some advantage when attempting to pierce the bilious clouds and discerning the location of Interrogator Ryken's signal. Yet the Storm Son knows also that it falls to him to warn the others of approaching Tyranids so that the Kill-Team may kill or avoid them, as appropriate.

GM: Greysight: please roll Awareness(+20) (so for you, 58 is your target) tests to represent the use of the Auspex Array. Your goal is 5 successes in order to determine the direction of Ryken's signal, so roll until you reach 5 successes.

Failures may mean inconclusive readings, or that Spearcast's descent has attracted the attention of flying Tyranids, ranging from Gargoyles to the terrifying form of a Harridan. I will inform you of the results and then you can work on narrative.

Edited by Commissar Molotov, 11 October 2019 - 12:05 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.

#1555
Commissar Molotov

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Akkad, Sabaan, Greysight, Ghent and Yeng:

GM: Nineswords has messaged me his dice rolls, so I will use them:

GREYSIGHT attempts to use Spearcast's auspex array to locate Interrogator Ryken's signal:

AG38(+20) Awareness Test: 54 (PASS)
AG38(+20) Awareness Test: 48 (PASS)
AG38(+20) Awareness Test: 26 (PASS)
AG38(+20) Awareness Test: 85 (FAIL, 2DoS)


Spearcast's augur arrays return a strong signal indicating Interrogator Ryken's signal, and the gunship is able to plough through the churning spore-clouds covering Vinov.

Suddenly, a shrill warning tone sounds as a cluster of contacts appear on the grainy screen. In the dorsal turret, Ghent can see a brood of the winged beasts known as Gargoyles; such creatures pose little threat to the Stormraven's armour, but if they are allowed to persist, they may attract the attention of larger creatures that lurk within the cloud cover.

GM: The Stormraven has the following weaponry:

A twin-linked assault cannon turret, operated by Ghent:
(Range 150m, -/-/10, 3D10+6I, Pen 6, Tearing, Twin-Linked)

Front-mounted twin-linked Heavy Bolters, operated by Sabaan:
(Facing Front, Range 150m, Heavy, -/-/10, 2D10+10X, Pen 6, Tearing, Twin-Linked)

4 Bloodstrike Missiles, operated by Sabaan:
(Facing Front, 750m S/-/-, 4D10+6X, Pen 14, Single-Use)

c75DUUq.png

Gargoyles have a Toughness Bonus of 3, Armour 3 and 9 Wounds each.



Edited by Commissar Molotov, 11 October 2019 - 12:05 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.

#1556
Nineswords

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[Deleted]


Edited by Nineswords, 14 October 2019 - 10:49 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

+++


#1557
Slips

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As Atratus stood on the ramp, waiting, Solastion simply nodded and spoke a short sentence "In and out, brothers, we cannot afford to tarry here too long." before taking a few steps back and launching him self off the rear ramp after a short sprint-leap.

 

The dull glow of the thermobarric shield illuminating everything ever-so-slightly silhouetting them as they descended, the target in sight.


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#1558
Commissar Molotov

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Solastion, Atratus, Varvost, Vorr and Teralil:

At Solastion's curt command, the Raptor steps out confidently and is claimed by the darkness, stolen away in seconds.

As each of you leap from the Valkyrie, you accelerate to thousands of yards per second. The curve of the dam grows faster and faster; you near-subconsciously move your limbs and shift your weight to adjust your descent so you can follow the trajectories overlaid on your helm-displays.

The dam rushes towards you, filling your vision. Your muscles tense as you ignite your jump packs to arrest your fall, decelerating almost-instantly with the crushing weight of g-forces upon your reinforced frame. It feels like you have been kicked in the chest by an angry grox.
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1559
Commissar Molotov

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Tyber:

Distinctions such as day or night have lost their meaning in Beregar City. The thermobaric shield fills the sky with false light, banishing shadows and stealing away darkness. You stand alone now on the walls, though surrounded by many hundred of the city's defenders. The Levy Troopers obey their shift rotations, catching sleep where they are permitted, ignoring the brightness above. The civilians hide in shelters, fearful of the tide of teeth and claws, whispering prayers to the Emperor. As well they should - for the light keeps the alien invaders at bay.

The city has been safe, thanks to the ingenuity of your brethren. The arcana of chymistry and the rituals of the Adeptus Mechanicus had been wielded as weapons to deprive the Tyranid force of their ability to strike at the capital. Even now, your comrades embark upon missions of vital importance, and you are here, the Warden of Beregar. Necessary as it may be to have an Astartes warrior overseeing the defense, it is hard for you to discern the honour in this situation.

When you finally free yourself from your reverie you see a PDF trooper holding you a missive on paper - Lord Vortis, the Governor of Syndalla, has requested your presence at the Governor's Manse.
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1560
Steel Company

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Tyber read the summons again, and again he felt rage at the audacity of the mortal; demanding his presence. Making his way through the city to palace, he passed by numerous shrines, temples and statues to the Emperor of Man, several seeming all but abandoned, save for the one that he himself had visited several times. The statue’s dais was overflowing with offerings, even one of their cult leaders that called himself a priest of the Emperor of Man, holding a sermon at the foot of the statue a gather of people hanging on his words; “… and lo and behold one of his divine angels did speak to Him on this very ground…”

 

Tyber rolled his eyes under his helm, this mortal was speaking nonsense, issuing lies to the people, this, the very thing the Emperor himself sought to rid of the galaxy. His hand slipped to the pistol on his right hip, undoing the strap across the back of the gun, the mortal’s voice felt like a violation of everything that was right in with his understanding. As snap came free, that mortal child that had had the audacity to touch him that last time, turned to face him, as the child brought one finger to his lips, almost shushing Tyber.

 

Tyber’s hand wrapped around the grip of his pistol, and again the boy looked at him and shook his head, as if telling him not to take the next step. Snarling to himself he replaced the snap and returned to heading to meet with the governor.


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#1561
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Following behind the others Atratus uses the grav jets of his pack to slow his fall more gradually, watching the dam from above as his brothers land. The flame and fury of their approach likely to rouse any here who might oppose the astartes and reveal their position as they scurry to respond.


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#1562
Nineswords

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VINOV WAS A carcass in the process of being picked clean by the galaxy’s most efficient apex predator. 

 
Under normal circumstances, the system’s secondmost populated planet was a verdant mass of unbroken temperate woodland, spread over three continents. In time, the Throneworld’s tithes would eventually deplete Vinov’s forests and fossil fuels over generations, only for an entirely different fate to befall it instead: the Great Devourer struck first, forever altering the planet’s once fragile ecosystem into an irreversible, cascading dive towards extinction. 
 
Vinov’s human resistance had long perished, leaving only rusting hulks of plasteel and rockcrete to mark the Imperium’s passing. The planet’s devastation was so absolute it defied mortal comprehension. Continent spanning old growth woodland was consumed and assimilated into the hive-mind’s genetic gestalt, rendering millions of acres of land into its own grotesque parody of evolution. 
 
In the planet’s death throes, Spearcast plunged through the sour miasma of Vinov’s new atmosphere; an endless, sulphuric nightmare of spore-stained yellow mist, punctured only by half glimpsed nutrient pools and the silhouettes of abominable organic towers dwarfing even the Imperium’s largest templums, ceaselessly sequestering biomass to sustain the xenos microbial pathogens and ripper swarms that would eventually consume all organic life on the planet, down to the very last drop of water. 
 
Already, Syndalla’s ecology was compromised from the opening stages of the tyranid invasion. It would not be long before the damage would be catastrophic like Vinov, even if the Imperium, by some Emperor-given miracle, could deny the Great Devourer its prize. 
 
‘Stay on this bearing, Brother Sabaan,’ shouted Greysight over the vox. He could barely hear himself over the howling gale, let alone anyone else. 
 
The Astral Claw, Akkad, had insisted on opening the Stormraven’s hatch to provide additional fire support. Despite the potentially lethal spore vapour penetrating the Space Marines’ armour filtration systems, Greysight appreciated his brother’s simple logic: seeing with your eyes was better than being trapped in a flying metal box, even if it was being flown by a competent pilot. The Stormraven gunship was effectively flying blind in the roiling fog, guided towards their destination by auspex alone. 
 
‘We’ve lost the Interrogator’s position again,’ said Greysight. ‘Is there any way we can boost the signal?’
 
‘Negative,’ replied Sabaan, flatly. ‘We are being jammed by some sort of bio-electrical field. I conjecture that it is being generated by our proximity to those pylons infesting the landscape.’ 
 
Silence followed, and only the ceaseless howling of the wind could be heard over the static. Greysight turned to the auspex again, studying the marker runes and real-time topographic data broadcast by the short range sensor sweep. What lay below the Spearcast did not even remotely resemble the Departmento Cartographae’s detailed surveys of the doomed planet. 
 
‘What was that?’ voxed Akkad, chasing his heavy bolter across the mist in a slow arc. 
 
‘I saw something too,’ added Ghent, gruffly over the secure channel. It was the first time the Invader had spoken since the rendezvous on Beregar. 
 
Greysight exchanged a look with the apothecary, Yeng, before peering out into the yellow mist. A moment passed, then another. Whilst fear was an alien concept to the Space Marines of the Deathwatch, they remained in a state of heightened alertness. 
 
There.
 
Just beyond the spectrum of visibility, something passed by the Spearcast in the amber murk. There was a vague impression of... something. Something avian and reptilian at the same time, and yet neither. Something huge. 
 
Greysight looked down at the auspex again. As he did so, blips appeared, converging straight towards the Spearcast at high velocity. 
 
‘Multiple contacts incoming,’ bellowed Greysight. The brothers of the Deathwatch responded with muttered oaths and catechisms over the vox, as the warriors of the Spearcast braced themselves for combat. 
 
A new sound carried over the howling wind, the dread screeching of creatures coming to overwhelm them, the harbingers of something even more terrible laying in wait. 
 
+++

Edited by Nineswords, 15 October 2019 - 10:44 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

+++


#1563
Slips

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Touching down with a loud thump upon the dam, two foot shaped craters forming around his armored feet, Solastion took quick stock of their surroundings and not having been immediately attacked by enemy forces relaxes his stance a bit.

 

++Brother Teralil, whence do we proceed?++ They all had access to the dams blueprints, but the Techmarine would know where best to plant charges at structural weakpoints to more efficiently cause structural collapse. Montessa is a son of Dorn, wonder if he would have been of help. he thought.


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#1564
Dosjetka

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Placeholder:

 

Full-Auto Burst with Twin-Linked Assault Cannon against the Gargoyle group:

BS48 (+20 FAB, +20 Twin-Linked, +10 Short Range, -20 Vehicle-Mounted Weapon): 57 (HIT, 2 DoS)

 

Hit 1, left Gargoyle: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 33 Damage (Righteous Fury!)

Left Gargoyle has TB3, Armour 3(0) and 9 wounds. It dies violently.

 

Hit 2, middle Gargoyle: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 37 Damage (Righteous Fury!)

Middle Gargoyle has TB3, Armour 3(0) and 9 wounds. It dies violently.

 

Hit 3, right Gargoyle: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 39 Damage (Righteous Fury!)

Right Gargoyle has TB3, Armour 3(0) and 9 wounds. It dies violently.


Edited by Chaplain Dosjetka, 28 October 2019 - 06:12 PM.

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


#1565
Reyner

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It had been a long time since Vorr had used a jump pack but he had enjoyed rocketing from the Valkyrie, it reminded him of his old days in the reserve companies as a headstrong and very ambitious Assault Marine. The ambition was still in him but he had found his place as a Devastator and had no desire to lay down his heavy weapons so naturally the Deathwatch was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. As it gave him the chance to use much more exotic equipment and blow many things up.

He hit the ground with a deep boom and his boots sunk deep into the rockcrete splitting it in a wide spiderwebs pattern, he grunted imagining the extra weight of his missile launcher, missiles and assorted explosives had pushed the jump pack to its weight limit. Vorr pulled his assault shotgun from his thigh and racked the slide then moved forward so he could cover the Killteams flank.

++We should make this quick and return to Beregar to aid in the defence.++


Edited by Reyner, 16 October 2019 - 10:18 AM.

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gallery_60566_6038_242.gifgallery_26119_9644_9137.pnggallery_60566_6038_826.gif
"I don't need my left arm to run." - Sergeant Arkad VII Legion bad-ass.


#1566
Commissar Molotov

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Talon One: The Valshari Dam
Solastion, Atratus, Varvost, Vorr and Teralil:

Each of you describe controlled arcs of descent towards the ground, landing atop it with commendable accuracy. You hit with a muffled thump, your momentum dissipated near-instantly as you shatter the ferrocrete beneath your feet. The dam itself is built with typical Imperial over-engineering - it is a monstrous thing of buttresses, illuminated by yellow stab-lights near the base that illuminate the giant, sweeping wings of an Imperial aquila emblazoned across its face. On one side, you see the dark rippling surface of the reservoir; on the other, the dark expanse of farmland that will soon be submerged underwater if your mission is a success.

The Techmarine inclines his head, the Machina Opus on his brow and the edges of the segmented armour plates on his helm catching what light there is.

++Placing the demolition charges at these locations,++ Teralil says, his voice grating over the vox, ++will yield the optimal results. The entirety of the reservoir will be released in a matter of hours. The sheer volume of water and sediment will eliminate any Tyranid forces in the valley and deny them the route to Beregar.++ As the Techmarine speaks, he blink-clicks a series of locations that glow red on your helm-displays. Three along the top edge of the dam, and two below, near the base.



The Warden of Beregar City:
Tyber:

It has been several days since you last saw Epistolary Montesa; even before that, the Crimson Fist was a reclusive figure. You understand that he sustained horrific injuries aboard the Tyranid Hive ship; injuries that should have felled any of the Astartes, even with your enhanced physiologies. To order a retreat in such circumstances, to recover your brethren even as your lungs burnt with alien bio-acid, was something worthy of praise. You know that your path leads to that same hive ship, and you wonder whether you too could have the strength of will to abandon combat, to put the benefit of the Kill-Team ahead of personal glory.

Strange thoughts fill your mind as you pace through the hallways of the Governor's manse, the walls still pock-marked from Blackthorn's combat against the Genestealers. But then service in the Deathwatch seems to be a breeding ground for unconventional thinking. Perhaps that is why you were dispatched to the service of the Ordo Xenos, far from your Chapter and the comfort of familiar minds with familiar mindsets. Here, many of your brethren seem as alien as the Tyranids you have been dispatched to kill. How can one relate to a barbarous monster such as Varvost, or a psyker who turns away from his brothers such as Montesa?

So lost are you in your thoughts that you pay little heed to the servants trailing you. You open a set of double-doors to reveal the strategium that has been Solastion's domain during the defense of this world. The Governor is busy as you enter, signing data-slates proffered by Levy adjutants. Behind him is a hololithic wireframe of the Syndallan system, revealing the Tyranid swarms choking Syndalla's atmosphere, and the monolithic hive ship in low orbit of the world of Vinov. You see the signifier-idents of the venerable cruiser Xenocide, having conveyed your brethren in search of the Interrogator's signal.

As Governor Vortis sees you, he half-bows, lowering his gaze deferentially.

"My lord," he says, "I must apologise."

Edited by Commissar Molotov, 18 October 2019 - 02:19 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.

#1567
Steel Company

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In some small part of his mind, Tyber knew that this mortal was doing the best it could with what was going on, but he felt no compassion for him. Compassion for mortals killed Astartes, as proven time and time again by those of the Dragon Warriors bloodline. Tyber sighed and pulled his helm free and running an armoured hand over his raw scalp, Tyber approached the mortal governor asking in as level a tone as he could, “What is it?”


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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

#1568
apologist

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Oto Yeng was accustomed to rapid aerial deployment. He was used to being buffeted. He was not used to flying over what appeared to be a roiling sea of ochre, with sinister black specks revealing themselves to be multiple-limbed monsters. For a moment, with the roar of overpressure around him and the heavy wind rocking him; the sea of cloud below looked to Yeng as the surface of an ocean above him, the monsters rising up like dart-birds striking through waves. He shook his head to clear the illusion. He glanced over to Akkad. The Astral Claw's helm was firmly in place, but Yeng couldn't shake the sense his companion was grinning broadly in satisfaction.

 

He swivelled as Greysight yelled ‘Multiple contacts incoming!’ Without hesitation, those aboard Spearcast leapt into action. As Ghent and the other gunners began to open fire on the aliens closing on the craft, Yeng braced himself. His hands opened and closed in agitation; his combat-adrenaline spiking. He forced himself back to calm. Softening his knees to counter the sway of the deck, he strode over the Akkad, who remained hunched at the door. Laying his hand on the Astral Claw's pauldron so that his words would be transmitted via armour contact, he spoke.

 

'It is said that Lady Ji rode to her betrothed with such joy in her heart, that she could not hide her grin; nor did she slow En-zhi, the swiftest horse in the stable.'

 

Akkad turned to him, his helm tilted quizzically. Yeng smiled. 'When she was presented to the Prince, he rejected her. Sobbing, she returned home, and turned to her looking glass. There she saw her make-up smeared by the wind, her hair crazed, and her teeth plastered with flies and foul insects.'

 

'A charming tale, Yeng, but is this the best time?'

 

Yeng's grin broadened.

 

'Time to close the door, my friend. '


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#1569
Mazer Rackham

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A wry smile twisted his lips at the counsel of the Gatebreaker.  The clever touch of the pauldron, the use of the word friend - all to make the suggestion to close the hatch more palatable, to mask the concern.  Yeng may have been hiding it, but the tremble in his gauntlet on contact with Akkad's shoulder told the old Veteran Sergeant what he needed to do - perhaps Yeng needed a distraction - no-one enjoyed being caged up in a flying coffin with no way to fight against the rage lashing the lid.  What Astartes would?

 

Akkad punched the switch and stood fully.  The hatch wound closed, but he remained in place as the Stormraven's scrubbers purged the atmosphere of cloudy yellow-brown toxin.

+I have a feeling Brother Yeng, that our teeth will soon be smeared with foul insects aplenty.+ He let the smile come through the vox as the Assault Cannon roared - the whole hull vibrated to the shudder of the Invaders' wrath. +Tell me, did Lady Ji also ride her horse blindfolded?+

 

MR.


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#1570
Commissar Molotov

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Talon Two: Vinov, a World of Death:
Akkad, Sabaan, Greysight, Ghent, Yeng:

You hear the roar of the twin assault cannons as the Invader dispenses righteous justice against the Gargoyles. Nuisance as they are, their presence makes comprehending the auspex readings all the more difficult for Greysight, fouling the returns with their bio-signatures.

GM: GREYSIGHT: Make another roll for your auspex returns (Target Number: 48)
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1571
Commissar Molotov

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GM: Nineswords messaged me to tell me that he rolled a... 92?! Ouch...

Talon Two: Vinov, a World of Death:
Akkad, Sabaan, Greysight, Ghent, Yeng:

Greysight realises a moment too late as the scattered bio-signature returns coalesce into one - as the roar of the assault cannons is supplanted by an altogether more bestial, terrible roar.

As the rear hatch closes, the Astral Claw and the Gatebreaker glimpse a draconic creature from the most ancient and ancestral memories of humanity - a monster of enormous beating wings and a long ophidian body that coils dexterously as it descends rapidly upon Spearcast.

A Harridan.

The door seals shut but the danger is far from evil; sirens scream and the world tilts as Sabaan puts the Stormraven into a sharp dive in an attempt to evade the predator...
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1572
Mazer Rackham

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Akkad allowed a grim sliver of mirth to escape the vox-grille.  He was still looking at Yeng.  He selected squad vox.

++Unless anyone has any other suggestions, perhaps we should increase velocity to maximum, My Savant.  Brother Ghent, clip it's wings.++

 

The Spearcast was the most valuable asset they had.  It could not be endangered by duelling the Harridan.  They could spear that fish another time.  He hoped his brothers would share such a conclusion - his armour growled in protest.  He reached up and tapped the helm, then stroked to soothe the proud beast within.  They weren't fleeing.

 

Not yet.

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 19 October 2019 - 03:10 PM.

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#1573
Commissar Molotov

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Talon Two: Vinov

Sabaan's dive is steep, the altimeters within your helm-displays racing precipitously further down and down. Each of you feels the lurching within your stomachs.

++This is... sub-optimal.++

The Iron Hand's displeasure at the circumstances you find yourselves in is rendered tinny and harsh by the vox-network.

The lurching in your stomach is nothing compared to the hideous collision that happens next. The entire craft slews horribly and for a moment it seems Spearcast must have hit the ground.

GM:

Harridan hits Spearcast in close combat::
Harridan's Scything Talons do 1D10+38R Pen 3 against Spearcast's Armour of 37 (34): 8 (46): 12 Damage (23 Remaining)


Like an avian hunter spearing a fish from the sea, the Harridan has wrapped itself around the Stormraven, snakelike tail constricting the craft. The impact tosses the gunship around, throwing those of you not restrained against the nearest bulkheads You hear the metal of the craft around you groaning as if in pain.

Edited by Commissar Molotov, 19 October 2019 - 03:45 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.

#1574
Dosjetka

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Full-Auto Burst with Twin-Linked Assault Cannon at Harridan

BS48 (+40 Immense, +20 FAB, +20 Twin-Linked, +10 Short Range, -20 Vehicle-Mounted Weapon): 33 (HIT, 7 DoS)

 

Hit 1: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 29 Damage (Righteous Fury!)

Hit 2: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 29 Damage

Hit 3: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 31 Damage

Hit 4: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 16 Damage

Hit 5: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 31 Damage (Righteous Fury!)

Hit 6: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 29 Damage

Hit 7: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 18 Damage

Hit 8: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 38 Damage (Righteous Fury!)

Hit 9: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 35 Damage (Righteous Fury!)

 

The Harridan has 100 Wounds left.


Edited by Chaplain Dosjetka, 28 October 2019 - 09:55 PM.

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Posted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted ImagePosted Image

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


#1575
Commissar Molotov

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GM:

Dos:

Spoiler

Edited by Commissar Molotov, 19 October 2019 - 06:17 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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