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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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#1576
Commissar Molotov

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Placeholder: Currently updating...

Talon One: Vinov
GM: Given the extreme close range and the fact the Harridan is "grappling" the Stormraven, I'd rule it can't dodge.

The twin-linked assault cannon lashes out at short range, barrels blurring as they spit out a hail of gunfire at the massive creature dragging Spearcast down to its doom. Even the Harridan's formidable armour can do little against such an onslaught, and Ghent's turret viewscreen is splattered with ichor and flecks of chitin. The creature shrieks - a sound that reverberates through the steel bones of the Stormraven - and its ophidian tail uncoils involuntarily as it recoils in what passes for pain among its misbegotten kind.

Taking advantage of the momentary respite, Sabaan plunges the gunship forward in an attempt to evade the Harridan's talons, through the sickly green fog that remains of Vinov's atmosphere. The Stormraven's overpowered engines scream as you near terminal velocity. Surely the esoteric and unknowable secrets of the Adeptus Mechanicus that keep the ungainly craft in the air will be stretched to breaking point. Surely you will all be crushed within your armour, left to decay on a dying world until gnawing Tyranid creatures feast on your corpses and turn them into yet more biomass to be consumed. Surely...

GM: Sabaan attempts to wrestle Spearcast into a dive, away from the Harridan
Pilot (Flyers) Test with an AG of 43: 37 (PASS)


...and suddenly, the craft stabilises. There is silence, blessed silence for a moment.

++We appear to have evaded the creature. I suggest we locate the Interrogator's signal as swiftly as possible.++


Talon Two: The Valshari Dam

The Raptor seems to swiftly and efficiently take the lead in this situation, his brethren deferring to his expertise in such operations. The descent appears to have reinvigorated him. He quickly, almost instinctively, surveys the area using his Mark IX Ultra-pattern rifle. The weapon seems almost an extension of his own body, its scoped sight superior even to the auto-senses of your warplate, piercing the darkness.

As far as you can tell, there are no Tyranid forces within the vicinity of the dam. Nothing should impede you from planting the charges atop the structure before the squad descends to rig the base.



Tyber: The Warden of Beregar City

"I apologise, my Lord," Governor Vortis repeats once more, "if my request for your counsel has taken you away from your more pressing duties."

His tone is diplomatic and deferential; not the arrogant demands you expected.

"This war has taken a toll on my world, my city and my people. I never expected to be this world's governor. I imagine most of the nobility of this world never expected that they would do anything other than spend their life in a succession of parties, scheming and politicking, haggling and gathering their wealth. But the Emperor has called us to defend our world, and I do not expect to be found wanting."

He looks you in the eye, looking up, up at you.

"My aides have scheduled a public appearance, a tour of the Levy defenders to bolster the troops. I'm told that delivering a rousing speech will be good for morale. I asked you to attend me in the hopes that you would support me. For the troops to see one of the Emperor's own would be far more inspirational than anything I could muster."




[b]GM:

NINESWORDS ONLY:

Spoiler

Edited by Commissar Molotov, 29 October 2019 - 06:57 AM.

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

#1577
Steel Company

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Tyber eyed the governor for a moment, wondering if there was any hidden meaning in his words or if they were just said to placate him. He rubbed his head with the armoured glove, he understood the need to boost the morale of the mortals of this place, without them, they were all lost. With a sigh, Tyber rumbled out, “You interrupted nothing of importance. I will be there.”


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

--Octavulg

#1578
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"No activity detected in the target zone", reported Atratus. Likely a brief repreve as the valkyrie would not have gone unnoticed. Holding at his designated point he awaited the first charges to be set, watching for any threat xenos or otherwise.


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#1579
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[Placeholder: Spearcast manages to make it away from the harridan’s clutches, moving into Ryken’s coordonates]
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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

+++


#1580
Commissar Molotov

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Talon Two: Vinov, a World of Death:
The Storm Son's tracking ability seems as efficient in the air as it is on the ground, and Sabaan flies through the tattered atmosphere of Vinov at Greysight's command. The Stormraven descends as glowing runes on your helm cartographs indicate the location of Pyroclast Gamma-9, an industrial facility and promethium refinery set among sharp-edged rocks, tumbledown crags and coarse tundra. You can see the rows upon rows of buildings, stations and supply dumps across several square kilometres. Before the invasion, it would have been staffed by Departmento Munitorum functionaries and a sizeable workforce of convict labour.

As Sabaan brings Spearcast down in a patch of clear ground and the gunship’s front ramp bangs open, you disembark with a crisp precision that speaks to the centuries of relentless training you have collectively undergone and entirely belies the chaos of the flight. Each of you moves quickly and efficiently, your weapons’ barrels following the movement of your eyes.

From the ground, the surface of Vinov appears even more hellish than it did in the air. The dessicated landscape ahead of you is a blasted desert, shrouded with yellow-green vapour that your auto-senses struggle to penetrate; when the mists part, it is only to give you a glimpse of the devastation wrought by the Tyranids before descending mercifully again.

Beneath your power-armoured boots, the cracked earth is threaded with a sprawling mass of thin writhing tendrils, some strange and entirely alien combination of root and vein. You know they are harvesting every last trace of mineral and nutrient from the ground, transporting them towards the vast digestion pools to be consumed by the hive ship. They pulse with peristaltic motion, gorging greedily even though there can surely be little left by this time.

The Interrogator's signal is strong and steady now, less than half a kilometre forward from your location.


Talon One: The Valshari Mountains:
Teralil works quickly, conducting the rites of armament and canticles designed to soothe the belligerent spirits of the detonator-cores. Handled improperly, they can be spiteful and unpredictable; the Techmarine, however, moves with commendable efficiency and speed. His armoured fingers move deftly as he assembles the devices that will undo thousands of years of Imperial engineering.

The air is still, and Varvost remains in a lupine half-crouch, his battered helm glinting dully in the half-light. Still, there are no signs of Tyranid opposition to your activities.

Tyber: The Warden of Beregar City:
The Governor nods, thankfully, and you see relief spreading across his face.

"My lord... what would you say to the men?"
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1581
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++I do not like this one bit, Brothers, not one bit...++ Solastion spoke over the comms, not risking his voice emitting from his helmets Vox Grille lest it disturb the oppressive silence that was only ever interrupted by the background noise of automated machine operations.

 

With his statement hanging in the air, his neck servos audibly working to the assembled marines due to their superior hearing as he took even and measured scans of the area whenever they stopped as Teralil worked away at planting the charges.

 

++Brother Teralil, are there any structural weaknesses present that we could exploit to create a means of egress in the event that we are...prevented...from otherwise making our way out of the Dam?++


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#1582
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Atratus looked up, tracing the path of the valkyrie for any xenos that might be investigating its presence. Despite Solastions misgivings there seemed little reason that the tyranids would stage their forces at this location now that the invasion had begun, and undue hesitation in carrying out the mission would only increase the likelihood of discovery.


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#1583
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Tyber thought on his question and asked himself the same ‘What would I tell these mortals…

 

Looking to the hilt of his arming sword to see the dog tag still attached to it, his mind went back to the preacher that had stood at the statue telling lies to the people, lies that made them feel better. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath he thought of something he hadn’t thought of in a long time.

 

++++

 

A young Tyber sat in a vastly oversized chair at an even more oversized table, taking mid-day meal with Adavan, looking at the serfs of the keep working the fields and tending to herd animals. Adavan dropped his bread on his plate and asked, “Why do they seem happy?”

 

Tyber furrowed his brow as he thought on it, the question seemed simple enough and he answered, “They hope to be Astartes someday.”

 

Adavan nodded before adding, “And that is a lie, mortals need little lies to give them hope. If they knew that they would never rise above their breeding, we would have a revolt on our hands and valuable breeding stock would be destroyed. Careful lies are useful tools, never forget that.”

 

++++

 

Tyber opened his eyes and regarded the Governor coldly as he said, “Tell them a little believable lie. Hope is a powerful tool, sometimes a lie is a better motivator than the truth.”

 

Shifting uncomfortably he added, “As much as I hate to say it, getting those that preach the Imperial creed to be on board with this will be our best option.”


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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

#1584
Commissar Molotov

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Talon Two: Vinov, a World of Death:
Sabaan remains by Spearcast, attempting to soothe the belligerent craft's pugnacious war-spirit after the damage it sustained at the talons of the Harridan-beast. The rest of you - Akkad, Yeng, Greysight and Ghent - travel in the direction of Interrogator Ryken's signal, following a jagged scar torn into the dessicated earth.

It is not long before you approach the broken body of a Kestrel-class interplanetary lighter. Once a mighty machine, the spearhead-shaped craft lies shattered against a rutted bank of earth ramped up by its crash-landing, its back broken and its hull plating torn apart like paper. Despite the ruin of the wreckage, it is apparent that the shuttle's reactor and fuel lines did not rupture - for otherwise there would be little left but a glowing crater.

The doors in the rear armoured compartment hang upon, the explosive bolts having detonated to allow their occupants to escape.

[color="orange"]GM: In terms of size, imagine something like a civilian version of a Thunderhawk, though it would likely look something more like a Arvus Lighter.


Talon One: The Valshari Dam:
Teralil finishes his final ritualistic adornments, and the last of the demolition charges is set. Its display flashes a series of runes, and then the countdown begins. In less than two hours, the Valshari dam will be breached and the valley below will be flooded.

Having completed the operation in near-complete silence, when your vox-link crackles open, it is an unexpected surprise. The voice is flattered and rendered harsh by static interference, if not roughened by disuse. It is not a voice you imagined you would hear, but the identifier-runes make it clear that there can be no mistake. The voice belongs to Brother-Librarian Montesa, the nominal commander of Kill-Team Swordhand.

++Brother Solastion... The shadow of the warp weighs heavily upon me, and yet I feel a disturbance in the warp close to your position.++

On your helm-displays you see a locator-rune flashing insistently - indicating a location within the Valley below you.

++Brother, I would ask that you uncover what awaits us there.++


Tyber, the Warden of Beregar City:

The Governor nods at your words, thankful that you would deign to offer your advice.

"Thank you, my lord."

At that, you receive a tone on your helm-display: a message from the strategium set up within the Governor's manse.

++My lord, Fleet-Captain Locke has reported that the King of Kings has detected a warp translation from the outer-system. She is attempting to verify the identity of the new contact.++
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1585
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++ Undersoot, Brother-Librarian.++ He responded.

 

++You heard Brother Montessa. Seems that there is a psychic disturbance in our vicinity and if it can be of use to us, it would be foolish to leave it behind. If its a threat, then all the more reason to eliminate it.++

 

++Brother Atratus, as always, you are on point. Brother Teralil, I leave it to your discretion as to when we detonate the Dam; at least for now.++

 

And Solastion made the Astartes battle cant sign to move ahead.


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#1586
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Tyber sighed heavily as he ran his armoured hand over his scalp again before looking to the governor and half laughed out; "We are either in a much better place, or not much worse."


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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

#1587
Mazer Rackham

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[PLACEHOLDER]

 

Akkad attempts to determine number of survivors from footprints, blood spatter etc.  He will use this to assist Greysight on any tracking test.

 

+Brother Greysight, what do you make of this?+

 

MR.


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#1588
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Atratus dropped silently to the base of the valley assisted by the grav plates of his pack, the terrain such that approach to the position at ground level was less exposed that from the flanks.

 

A sweeping encirclement, though a psychic threat drew caution - simply stealth may be ineffectual favouring a tighter formation and rapid approach.


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#1589
Commissar Molotov

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

A cursory search of the shuttle's hold reveals that four crewmen, including the pilot, seemingly died on impact, their bodies twisted and buckled by the force of impact. Notably, Interrogator Ryken does not appear to be among the corpses. In the control compartment - far too cramped for an Astartes to operate comfortably within - you find that the craft's broadcast vox systems appear to have been modified to boost its signal strength. It is undoubtedly the source of the Interrogator's signal.

Tracking the Interrogator is difficult, and by no means guaranteed - but it is essential.

GM: In order for Greysight to track the Interrogator, make a Tracking test with a +20 modifier due to Akkad's assistance (he does have an auspex) - so you will be rolling a 58 or under on a D100.


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

++Brother-Apothecary, the war-spirits of these detonators have been roused and are belligerent.++ The eye lenses of Teralil's helm are impassive, lacking any emotion to underscore the gravity of his statement. ++They cannot be stilled, and the detonation of the dam cannot be halted. If we are to follow the Brother-Librarian's missive, we must be swift.++

++Wonderful,++ Varvost says.

As Solastion signals you all forward, the Eradicator's sarcasm lingers with an edge of truth. You are plunging into the unknown, with only the word of your reclusive Librarian to guide you, and precious little time until your destruction. It is an uncomfortable truth, and one that hangs heavily over you.

Your jump packs allow you to move with admirable speed, traversing the Valshari valley's fields easily. You pass through crops that are overgrown and left untended, across dirt roads and irrigation channels. Soon enough you see the location the Librarian indicated: a small clusters of wooden buildings that appear to be some sort of a farmstead. It seems deserted, and entirely unremarkable.


The Warden of Beregar City:
Tyber

Within the hour you find yourself standing within the Strategium beneath the governor's palace. You watch as the indicator rune representing Captain Locke's King of King burns hard towards the outer edges of the system, towards another rune, flashing lazily as you wait for it to resolve and identify itself.

Blink...

Blink...

Blink...

"My lord, the new contact is displaying an Imperial Navy ident-tag!" one of the operators around you shouts, his voice struggling to hide an edge of excitement and hope. Are reinforcements here? Has the wider Imperium dispatched forces to support the fight?

You look at the holo-display, where the rune solidifies, a name appearing underneath it: ADAMANT, Dauntless-class.

You hear a crackling signal, faint from distance, but insistent, coming across your vox-array.

++Hail, Adamant. This is the King of Kings. I trust your transit through the warp was satisfactory?++

The voice that answers Captain Locke is stentorian, brusque and clipped.

++King of Kings, stand down and prepare to be boarded.++

++What? Are you mad?++

++Stand down immediately, or we will open fire.++

++Under whose authority? This is an outrage!++

++I bear a communique from Battlefleet Command. You will comply immediately.++

++Very well,++ Captain Locke's voice seems resigned, as she gives the order. ++Transfer this communication to a secure channel.++

With that, the frequency on your vox-channel is replaced only by seething static. The strategium is silent, the momentary jubilance replaced only by bewilderment and confusion. What in the name of Holy Terra is happening?

GM: Steel, whilst your first instinct may be to contact Solastion, they are busy / there is plot interference meaning that Tyber will have to deal with this situation himself... you do have resources at your disposal, if you can think of them... I'm keen for Tyber to take action!
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1590
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Tyber couldn’t suppress the smirk that appeared on his face, for one reason, that reason being that an additional ship had arrived, granted only a light cruiser but it was something that they didn’t have before.

 

Looking to the governor a quick glance as he said, “Let us see how far we can reach Governor.”

 

He moved to place a massive armoured paw on the shoulder of the adept at the vox control board as he spoke with authority, “I want to talk to the captain of the Adamant.”

 

The adept flew at their task reaching out through the void to the craft, a brief exchange of binary chatter with the adept on the other end before the vox cracked to life yet again. +Adamant Actual, go ahead...+

 

Tyber picked up the transmitter, it seems so tiny in his hands as he spoke into it, +Captain, this is Brother Tyber of the Deathwatch, acting warden of Beregar. In the name of the Emperor’s Inquisition you are now tasked with the defense of Syndalla from the oncoming Tyranid invasion. Any issue you have with Sevora Locke can be settled after we have beat back the invasion.+

 

He paused for a moment to make sure that this was being broadcast openly, +You have my word Captain, that should we win the day I will assist in enforcing any boarding action you require to make.+

 

Letting go of the transmit button Tyber did his best to hide his disgust at having to invoke the name of the Emperor and the Inquisition, but he knew that both had power over these mortals and now in this moment he needed that power to deal with the larger threat.


Edited by Steel Company, 15 December 2019 - 09:01 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

#1591
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Closing into range of his scope Atratus swooped to the ground seeking to pick out a suitable target for the kill team. For once he sought no concealment, aware that it would mean little against psychic detection and would provide opportunity for the lurker-beast that the others had encountered to approach.


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#1592
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++Nothing to get both hearts pumping like a deadline..++ Solastion says.

 

++Be on your utmost guard brothers, while the Tyranids cast a Shadow in the Warp they can still sense psychic emanations and if Brother-Librarian sensed it, the Xenos definitely have.++

 

++If we are lucky, we'll be able to draw a sizable amount of the foul beasts here and maximize our use of the Dams demolition.++


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#1593
Commissar Molotov

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VINOV: A WORLD OF DEATH
Akkad, Greysight, Ghent and Yeng

GM: GREYSIGHT makes a Tracking test (Intelligence 38, +20 from Akkad's assistance: 40, PASS)

The Deathwatch move swiftly across the cracked earth, following the Storm Son's instincts. As you approach a broad ravine, you hear the distinctive sharp crack of lasfire and the dull roar of hastily bellowed orders. You look downwards to see the overturned wreck of an eight-wheeled cargo hauler below. Taking up a defensive position with the crashed vehicle on one flank are a ragged group of human soldiers, hunkered down in firing positions among the rocks. The bodies of more humans are scattered around the area, and among them are the mangled and burned remains of a dozen Tyranid Shrikes: huge, bat-winged nightmares with blood-drenched, scythe-like claws.

Stood stark and straight amidst the soldiers is the unmistakable figure of an Imperial Commissar, his long black coat tattered and bloodstained. Displaying no fear or concern for his own safety, he is shouting admonishments to his men to stand firm and die for the Emperor's glory. Beyond them, on the far side of the ravine, movement ripples through the rocks as the Tyranids muster for another attack...

g2FUfCd.png

[ ] COMMISSAR | AG3 + 9 = 12 | WOUNDS XX/XX
[ ] FIRETEAM 1 | AG3 + 8 = 11 | MAGNITUDE 10/10
[ ] FIRETEAM 2 | AG3 + 4 = 7 | MAGNITUDE 10/10
[ ] HORMAGAUNTS A | AG3+1 = 4| MAGNITUDE 16/16
[ ] HORMAGAUNTS B | AG3 +4 = 7| MAGNITUDE 16/16
[ ] TYRANID WARRIOR A | AG3+2 = 5 | WOUNDS XX/XX
[ ] TYRANID WARRIOR B | AG3+8 = 11 | WOUNDS XX/XX
[ ] (A) AKKAD | AGX + 9 | WOUNDS XX/XX | FATE X
[ ] (G) GREYSIGHT | AG43(4) + 7 = 11 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 5
[ ] ® GHENT | AG60(6) + 5 = 11 | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 2
[ ] (Y) YENG | AG40(4) + 2 = 6 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3

THE VALSHARI VALLEY
Solastion, Atratus, Teralil, Varvost and Vorr

As you advance, the farmstead appears to be dark and lifeless. You see a cluster of single-storey buildings, made of wood and surrounded by a low brick wall.

"Who goes there?" you hear a rough voice cut across the dark.

PYB3bRr.png



BEREGAR CITY
Tyber

As you issue your order, you are greeted with hissing static for a moment. Finally, you hear the brusque voice that had clashed with Locke responding to you.

"Brother Tyber of the Deathwatch. This is Captain DuRanes. I am here under the orders of the Admirals of the Battlefleet, and do not answer to you. Fleet-Captain Locke has failed to comply with orders from Battlefleet Command to withdraw her squadron from Syndalla. I am here to compel her return to face a court martial for her disobedience. My crew are boarding the King of Kings to arrest Captain Locke, and once we have resolved the situation, we will withdraw."
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QUOTE (voi shet magir @ May 31 2011, 05:38 AM
That is an unexpectedly strong assertion from a dead person.

#1594
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As the voice rang out in the dark, Solastion's auto-sense cogitated to triangulate the source but in a blur of practiced motion, the Crimson Knight motioned to Atratus to circle around quietly in Battle-Sign so that the Raven could obtain a better vantage point.

 

To the rest of the squad he motioned for them to disperse but remain relatively close and at the ready.

 

Proceeding to step out in to the relative open of the path leading up to the buildings themselves, Solastion responded to the call ++Brother Solastion of the Deathwatch. Who are you to yet remain beyond the walls?++


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#1595
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+Brother Tyber of the Deathwatch. This is Captain DuRanes. I am here under the orders of the Admirals of the Battlefleet, and do not answer to you. Fleet-Captain Locke has failed to comply with orders from Battlefleet Command to withdraw her squadron from Syndalla. I am here to compel her return to face a court martial for her disobedience. My crew are boarding the King of Kings to arrest Captain Locke, and once we have resolved the situation, we will withdraw.+ spoke the voice on the other side of the vox unit.

 

Tyber snarled a low deep sound, causing the adept at the controls to slink smaller in their seat, out of fear that they would meet his wrath. Catching this motion Tyber activated the transmit rune, trying to stay as even in tone as he could, +Captain DuRanes, you would dare defy the Imperial Inquisition? This will not bode well for you to retain your command.+

 

Closing the link, he switched channels to the Xenocide, +Captain, this is Brother Tyber on Syndalla. I require fast transport to the Light Cruiser Adament, before they transit out of the system… I need to explain the current pressing matters in person.+


Edited by Steel Company, 27 January 2020 - 05:38 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

#1596
Mazer Rackham

Mazer Rackham

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[ ] (A) AKKAD | AG45 (4) + 9 = 13 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 4 (3)

(If all points/health replenished)

 

Akkad stood shoulder to shoulder with his brothers, watching and listening to the defiance of the humans trapped in the ravine with the monsters.  He listened to the Commissar exhorting his charges and waited until the officer paused for breath and fired into the charging thunder of hooves, claws and teeth.  Akkad selected external Vox.

+The only death is cowardice!+  He bellowed, bracing his legs, boots biting down into the snaking, writhing ground.

 

Then, with Cadence gripped in both hands, he swung the huge cannon on target.

 

Attack:

Spoiler

 

Damage:

Spoiler

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 01 February 2020 - 02:52 PM.

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#1597
A.T.

A.T.

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Atratus steps back, slipping into the shadows of his brothers as he moved with surprising stealth despite his size. The vegetation here was dense, both a curse and a blessing as the sound of his movement through the undergrowth was unavoidable but gave him ample concealment.
 
Move silent 72 vs skill 100, -30 for power armour, failed by 2 points (before bonuses for distance)
Concealment
26 vs 90, -30 for power armour, passed with 2 extra DoS (before bonuses for distance)


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#1598
Mazer Rackham

Mazer Rackham

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GM, Does our Fireteam have Sabaan as well?

 

MR.


Edited by Mazer Rackham, 14 February 2020 - 03:56 PM.


#1599
Commissar Molotov

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GM: As per the OOC thread, apologies for the lengthy delays that have hampered the thread. In an attempt to smooth over the delays and move things forward, I will be jumping slightly ahead in terms of the combat on Vinov and I will be short-cutting some of the narrative.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Vinov: A World of Death
Akkad, Greysight, Ghent and Yeng
(Sabaan remains aboard Spearcast)


The last of the Tyranids falls, dead, and you are triumphant. The black ichor that passes for their blood quickly soaks into the parched earth, the snaking root-veins suckling and pulsing hungrily as the gestalt hive mind ensures nothing goes to waste on this planet.

As silence once more fills the air, you see the Commissar rise and greet you. As he approaches his hand comes up to his face, unclipping a respirator mask so that you can make out a scarred, pugnacious visage. He salutes crisply.

"Thank the Emperor," he says. "I thought we were done for."

Behind him, you see the remaining soldiers tending to one another, stripping ammunition from the fallen. Those of you with more than a passing interest in the humans you have encountered in the past will notice that their uniforms do not seem to conform to typical patterns used by the Astra Militarum - indeed, many of them do not even wear flak armour. Many of them have waxy, ashen complexions and your heightened senses can detect them wheezing heavily as they breathe.

"We received word that the Astartes had arrived on Vinov. Interrogator Ryken dispatched us to bring you to him."


++++

Following the soldiers' lead, you pass through jagged rocks intertwined with the ever-present roots of Tyranid consumption. The air is still laced with mist that seems almost to follow you, attempting to obscure your vision. Your helms' auto-senses are able to divine the way forward; the troopers manage without, seemingly finding familiar routes through the hellscape before you.
It is not long before you see the Imperial refineries - or what is left of them - ahead of you.

Suddenly the Commissar motions downwards, urgently. As you take cover amidst a series of craters gouged in the earth, you see a dark form appear on the horizon, growing larger and larger still. Its vast limbs move with a stately, if hideous, grace across. Its A low-slung head tracks back and forth as it scans the landscape for enemies. The creature is a Hierophant, a massive Tyranid bio-titan.

As the Hierophant stalks forward, closer and closer still, the time seems to stretch into infinity. You know that if the thing detects you, it will spell your doom. Your weapons - even Akkad's Heavy Bolter - will do precious little to a creature designed to shred armoured vehicles.

Finally, the shaking ground recedes as the Hierophant continues its patrol, a low, droning challenge issuing from it and echoing across the wastes.

The Commissar finally gestures on and the patrol diverts through a desiccated river-bed, long since drained dry. It is mere minutes before you reach a heavy metal hatch, more like an airlock you would see on a space-faring vessel. Two of the mortal troopers struggle with the heavy wheel sealing the door until Ghent steps forward and wrenches it open.

You find yourselves in a tunnel: dark, cold and oppressive, constructed of rough cast rockcrete. Apart from the pale lumen globes set into the low ceiling every ten metres or so, the curved walls are crossed by snaking conduits and cables, none with any obvious function. It is only just large enough for the armoured form of an Astartes, and you are forced to proceed in single file. Any of you with experience of fighting in the confines of a Space Hulk may find yourselves uncomfortably reminded. The fact that you could easily face a genestealer in these halls only strengthens the comparison - and none of you are fortunate enough to rely upon the comforting bulk of Terminator Armour.

Finally, the tunnel levels off, and you find yourself in front of an armoured portal that makes a mockery of the door you opened earlier. It seems as armoured as the prow of an Imperial Navy warship, and as you approach you see a pair of slaved heavy bolters whirring to life.

"HALT!" A deep, grating voice resounds about the chamber, emerging from a vox-grille at the portal. "Tread carefully, for you enter the domains of the Mechancius. Identify yourselves!"

The Commissar removes his respirator once more, looking at the vox-grille as a series of lenses whir and focus on his face. The slack-jawed servitors manning the heavy bolters jerkily come to life in a parodic imitation of their former lives, glassy eyes seeming to focus on the armoured forms of the Astartes behind.

"Omnissiah be praised, we are saved," the voice is still rough and metallic, betraying none of the apparent relief that the words themselves suggest. "Enter, and take refuge from the storm."

The door grinds open as a warning klaxon blares. After it opens, you are greeted by the robed figure of Interrogator Ryken; his expression is obscured by the robe he wears about his head. Next to him, nearly half as tall again, you see a red-robed adept of the Machine God. Mecha-dendrites and servo-assisted arms bristle from behind them, giving you the impression of a spider. They seem to move almost with independent thought - twitching, clasping and unclasping such that there is a near constant pattering sound around them.

The Brothers of Kill-Team Blackthorn - Akkad and Greysight - will recognise Ryken, but this is the first time they have encountered him since shortly after the death of the Genestealer Broodlord. The Brothers of Swordhand - Ghent and Yeng - will not, but will acknowledge the symbol of Inquisitorial authority the Interrogator wears upon his robes.

Ryken inclines his head.

"It is good to see you. We must converse quickly, lest this world's destruction be for nought."



++++


The Valshari Valley
Solastion, Atratus, Teralil, Varvost and Vorr

As Atratus melts into the darkness and Solastion advances forward, your auto-senses hear whispered conversation, even if you cannot make it out clearly. You see Varvost's gauntleted fist grasp his chain-axe tighter as he prepares for the inevitable ambush.

There is movement as you see a figure step forward, a woman wearing crimson carapace armour.

"I am Adrielle Haldane, Interrogator in the service of the Lady Lythea of the Ordo Xenos." There is a glint in the light as she proffers a golden rosette similar - though less ornate - to the one you recovered from the Broodlord's lair. "Brother Solastion, we are glad to have encountered you. Our Mistress ordered us to remain in place until she returned."

She turns as Brother Atratus appears once more from the shadows, his weaponry held low but the unspoken threat clear enough.

"Lower your weapons," she says - not to you, to the unseen others within the farmstead. You hear the metal-on-metal noise of weapons being lowered, charges being released, safeties being engaged.

"You'd better come in," she says.

+++

The farmstead within is a modest size, and certainly not built to accommodate the bulk of five Space Marines, especially with the bulk of your jump packs. Varvost remains outside, watching the perimeter of in case Tyranids attack. You see that Haldane and her companions have converted the building into a war-room; maps are pinned over family portraits and scrawled over with hand-made annotations.

"We've kept up with the situation as best we can via vox. We first set up here when the Inquisitrix began to suspect something was wrong at the heart of Syndalla. We had given up hope that the Lady would ever return."

She frowns a little, as though at herself, and tugs the cuirasse of her carapace plate down. It is as though she is gearing up to say something of import.

"Brother Solastion, from what little I know of the Astartes, am I right that you a chirurgeon?" she points at the narthecium and reductor on your wrist.






Imperial Cruiser 'King of Kings'
In orbit of Syndalla

With Spearcast in use by the Kill-Team responding to Interrogator Ryken's call for help, you made do with an Arvus Lighter piloted by the Syndallan Levies. The startled flight crew knew better than to argue with you when they saw your face. The craft lifts off, affording you the ability to see Beregar, the city under your command - and as the craft lifts higher and you see the curve of the horizon give way to the blackness of space, you can see the damage and destruction already wrought by the vanguard of the Tyranid forces upon the stricken agri-world.

You are greeted by the sight of the King of Kings, Captain Locke's vessel, and next to it, the Adamant, almost its twin, though lacking the visible battle damage of the former ship.. The two Dauntless-class Light Cruisers seem set almost like a pair of swords about to cross.

Your craft lands aboard the King of Kings with little resistance once the crew transmit the authority-codes of the Deathwatch, and you are directed to one of the many landing decks. As the ramp descends with a hiss of gouting steam, you stride forward onto the deck with all the force of a Space Marine charging into the breach. The mid-level officer assigned to greet you is startled as you move heedlessly past him.

"My lord? My lord?" his shouts echo futilely, growing quieter and quieter as you advance.

+++

As the conveyor platform jerks to a halt and you reach the bridge of the King of Kings you see the familiar face of Fleet-Captain Locke, and a new individual that must be Captain DuRanes. There are several naval armsmen behind him, their snub-nosed scatter cannons trained on Locke.

DuRanes whirls, his eyes widening as he takes in your bulk, but there is a tightening in his jaw that you interpret as a conviction that he is doing the right thing. This is a man who has followed orders his entire life in the certain surety that doing so brings victory.


*(I am thinking of Director Krennic when describing DuRanes.)

Edited by Commissar Molotov, 12 April 2020 - 09:36 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.

#1600
Mazer Rackham

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Akkad will gesture for the Interrogator to lead on.  Once the Interrogator's back is turned, he will use Astartes Battle Sign to warn Yeng and Ghent that Ryken is a psyker.

 

MR.


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