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"You are. We, in turn, are fortunate that you recovered our errant cousin, and thus, the Imperium endures."

 

Teralil does not look up as he interjects, as he sets to work doing what he can to repair the damage done to Thorvald's armour. It would have to wait to be reunited with its helm and be whole once more, but he could make a start with what he had.

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The Valshari Valley

(Solastion, Atratus, Varvost, Vorr and Teralil... and Thorvald)

 

A strange expression passes over Haldane's face, and you get the slightest hint that if she weren't surrounded by three Astartes warriors she might consider reaching for a weapon.

 

"Brother Solastion," she says, and her voice has an icy edge. "Who is Interrogator Ryken?"

 

Vinov: A World of Death

(Akkad, Greysight, Ghent and Yeng)

 

Behind the Magos, Interrogator Ryken examines the Inquisitor's rosette given to him by Akkad. He watches the play of light on its golden surface for a second, before placing it back on the table.

 

"Time is of the essence, Astartes. What is your strategy?"

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I'll spoiler this in deference to anyone else who wants to post and I'll shift it around.

 

Per Test: 80, D100: 79 PASS, no DoS.

 

Akkad whistles a sharp blurt through his vox-grille, +Interrogator, for one so passionate about finding Mistress Lythea, the Rosette does not interest you?  I recall your impassioned speeches urging haste.  Her plight made you come to us, did it not?+

 

His tone was dangerously light, a product of the civilised airs of the political chambers of Badab Prime.

 

+What is our course of action brothers?+

 

He asked the question to the room, tapping a military tattoo on Sonnet's pistol grip, which increased in tempo, if not volume, as he waited for a reply.

 

To be fair, I read the update bit for our group (Vinov) first and couldn't understand why Slips went nuts.  I only properly read their bit this afternoon..!

 

 

MR.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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As the interrogators words were processed by Solastion, Teralil was the only one to notice the sudden and abrupt stop to all motion as he now idled motionlessly. Pausing for an uncomfortable amount of time, he was broken out of his reverie by being bounced by the suspension of the vehicle as it drove over a rock.

 

++Brothers, we may have a problem.++ he said over the squads closed comms; patching in the squad - mainly Varvost and Atratus - to his incomming and outgoing communications as he continued speaking with the Interrogator.

++Interrogator Ryken... is the man who first alerted us to the plight of your Inquisitrix and brought us to the planet so that we might resolve the situation. He provided all necessary security clearances when presenting himself to our Watch Station to requisition our aid and while we have lost contact with him in the moments proceeding our slaying of the Broodlord, the other half of our squad have gone to his aid upon Vinov. If you are saying he isn't who he says he is, then we have a very serious security breach on our hands, Interrogator.++
 

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Vinov: A World of Death

(Akkad, Greysight, Ghent and Yeng)

 

At the Badabian's words, Ryken picks up the rosette once more.

 

"It is a symbol, Brother Akkad. The fear it inspires in the masses across the length and breadth of the Imperium gives it power. But it is only a symbol."

 

He nods at you.

 

"Our actions, here and now, will speak for us and do a far greater job of honouring the Lady Lythea's memory."

 

 

 

The Valshari Valley

(Solastion, Atratus, Varvost, Vorr and Teralil... and Thorvald)

 

"But.. that makes no sense. I am the Lady's Interrogator. She had no other pupil. Why would someone masquerade as an Interrogator in order to force the Chamber Militant to send forces here? Putting an end to the Cult was what Lythea wanted."

 

She sighs.

 

"In the Inquisition, it seems few are who they say they are. This matter will have to be resolved before the Conclave... but first, we must defend this world."

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Ghent cared little for the Interrogator's apparent disregard for the rosette, and even his disappearance. There were more pressing matters to attend to first.

 

"Our objective is clear — Spearcast got us here, let it be the vessel upon which we bring vengeance unto the blight that afflicts this system."

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Vinov: A World of Death

(Akkad, Ghent, Greysight, Sabaan and Yeng)

 

As you leave the Mechanicus facility and set foot upon the surface of Vinov once more, you see immediately that the consumption process has continued apace - and must surely be swiftly approaching its hideous conclusion.

 

Your helm displays warn you that the air pressure has dropped precipitously and you can see the skies overhead seem to be fading to black as if night is falling. The pin-pricks of stars twinkle above you, against the black. But this is no ordinary dusk - the very atmosphere is being siphoned away by the Hive ship, just visible in the skies overhead. Soon Vinov will be a barren, airless rock.

 

The sight of the snub-nosed Stormraven, Spearcast, is a welcome one as its engines flare and it lands near to your position, kicking up a gritty whirl of dust. You can see that its hull bears new impacts - clearly Sabaan has had to defend his new charge against the depredations of the Xenos.

 

Readying yourselves for the journey to the digestion pool takes mere moments, even given the enormity of the task ahead of you.

 

GM: I'll assume as previously, Ghent will man the top turret?

 

I'll pause here for Akkad to issue any orders, procedures, processes or advice.

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Akkad suggests Ghent mounts up on the guns, Sabaan flies and Yeng stores the small phial of toxin for later examination.  Greysight and Akkad will see to the deployment of the big canister with Yeng making sure we don't get any flies on our teeth.

 

 

MR.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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Silence. That is the resolute nature of the grave. Not true void of all noise, for no such thing existed save the cold, black sea just beyond the ship's walls. The deep thrum of the ship was still there, vibrating through its metal bones without pause. Rather, this was an absence of connection. There was nothing there within those still-active stasis pods that held the dead and the dying from their inevitable fates. 

 

My brothers...

 

He knelt at the center of the chamber, a thin film of frost clinging to his armour from where he had been unmoving for the past several hours. His meditation was deep, delving into the recess of his subconscious.... and yet he had never felt so empty. 

 

== Brothers?... Are you there?...==

 

Silence was his only answer, as it had been. Sometimes he would catch the vaguest mutterings, the barely audible murmurs beyond the glass coffins of those battle brothers that still yet clung to life, vain as that might have been. He could make nothing of the words, if they were even words to begin with. 

 

He was alone, as he had felt for all those many years in the Hallowed Sepulcher. There he had been given the honour of attending to the memories and legends of the honoured dead, heroes and ancestors of the Chapter.. He had never resented anything more in his life, much to his shame. 

 

The loneliness. The silence... 

 

And here he was, yet again at the feet of those he had failed once before, and failing now those brothers who still remained. A momentary twitch of his armoured finger and witchfire flickered at the tip. 

 

Why am I here?...

 

Why was he? If brotherhood was what he so desperately desired, then why was he here amidst the dead? Was it fear? No. Regret? Perhaps. Guillermo had failed his brothers in that damnable hive ship... Many had died to the xenos hordes. So then why was he here? Where was the rage? Where was the anger, the holy fury born in the blood of all Astartes? Why did he feel so... damned empty

 

Montesa sits alone in meditation with the stasis caskets containing the bodies of his fallen comrades. In contemplation, he considers the irony of his self-isolation as no different from his former duties in his Chapter's Hallowed Sepulcher. In that, Montesa wonders why he seeks comfort in the dead when brothers still yet live and need his aid.

Edited by Noctus Cornix
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IT LOOKED UNREMARKABLE; just another chemical dispensation canister employed by the Adeptus Mechanicus. The serial number, las-etched into its carbon steel drum read, FR:XX/0042-AE-OMICRON. 

 
The designation meant little to Greysight.
 
Studying the magos' schematics, the space marine coldly appreciated the skill involved in the canister's modified internal workings. The dispensation mechanism was simple: a reinforced glass vial attached to a remote detonator. Once triggered, the vial would break; heat and silicon present in the melted glass would react with Magos Erlan's inert liquid to form a lethal concoction. The canister was modified to aerosolise its now deadly contents, and spread the spore of the tyranid's destruction as far as possible. The coverage, it was hoped, would be directly absorbed into the Great Devourer's gene pool at source, poisoning it from within.
 
Alone with his thoughts on board Spearcast, Greysight returned once again to Interrogator Ryken. Despite how poorly his confrontation went, he could not shake off the feeling something was off. A hunters instinct, he reminded himself, should not be ignored.
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Vinov: A World of Death

 

Alarms trill within Spearcast - as the Stormraven nears the digestion pool, the concentration of airborne contaminants is rising precipitously. Spores - of a highly acidic nature - are likely to reach a level that are potentially dangerous to the integrity of your armour seals soon. 

 

From the craft's viewports you can see that the light offered by the stars seems to fade; looking upwards you see the heavens eclipsed by a form so large it blocks out the skyline. This is the hive ship, the target that must be destroyed if Syndalla is to survive. 

 

Spearcast banks, sharply, as Sabaan utters a blurt of binaric screed that must pass for some sort of Medusan oath. Above you, around you, clusters of hideously writhing tentacles unwrap themselves, lowering inexorably through what remains of the atmosphere, appearing to move ever faster as they descend. These feeder coils writhe as they seek to suck up the remainder of Vinov's biomass. Having reduced the planet to the bones, they are now devouring the very marrow of the world. 

 

++Evading... Evading...++ 

 

The Techmarine's grating voice may lack the inflection of emotion, but the force with which he wrenches the craft's controls shows the urgency of his actions as he attempts to avoid the fleshy pillars descending around and above him. 

 

GM:

 

Sabaan takes a Challenging (+0) Pilot test to avoid the feeder tendrils: AG43: 44 (FAIL) 

Spending a Fate Point to re-roll: 3 (PASS)

 

Spearcast descends sharply, the force battering you even through your powered armour as one of the tendrils comes within metres of the gunship. The craft's engines scream in protest against the abuse they are being subjected to; the hull creaks and groans at the stresses placed upon it. 

 

As the gunship points almost straight down, you see the ground below you is rippling and undulating. Your mind rebels at the sight, and yet it must be so: it is by far the largest swarm of Tyranids you have ever seen. Creatures of every conceivable type -  Hormagaunts, Rippers, Warriors, even the alien shape of one of the bio-titans you saw earlier. All pressed together such that there is almost none of the dessicated ground visible. All surging forward in one direction. 

 

Ahead, you can make out the shores of a vast sea - but this is no natural body of water. This boiling digestive acid is the death of Vinov: its forests, its animal life, the minerals in the ground, even the civilians and soldiers stationed on this world have all been rendered down into the abhorrent bubbling gruel stretching across towards the horizon. 

 

The tyranid creatures are surging towards the digestion pool, the chitin and flesh sloughing from them as they throw themselves into the acid lake.  Across the pool's diameter, you see the feeder tendrils plunging into the liguid, throwing up great plumes of bio-acid as the pool begins to boil. 

 

++We will need to reach the pool by foot.++ Sabaan's unwelcome news comes across the vox. ++These tendril-structures make it impossible for this craft to continue forward.++ 

Edited by Commissar Molotov
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As Sabaan wrestles with the truculent craft's controls, he jabs forward, through the armaglas viewscreen, with his servo-arm.

 

++There. The horde appears to be thinning in this location.++

 

The Techmarine is right; Akkad is able to follow his gaze towards an area where you can see the cracked earth of Vinov. As the horde throws itself with reckless abandon into the digestion pool, returning its biomass to the hive ship above, you realise that this may be your best chance. 

 

You can estimate the distance from where you can land to the digestion pool itself to be about 150 metres - further than any of you can throw the canister. 

 

++Logic dictates the toxin will have greater efficacy if it is dispersed as close to the pool's centre as possible.++ The Techmarine continues.  ++What are your orders?++

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As the desperate gesturing with the servo-arm subsided, Akkad drops back into the belly of the Stormraven and approaches Greysight, his left hand filled with a tall brass cylinder, sealed at each end.

 

+I trade you one canister for another, my Hunter,+ he took the large cylinder and slapped the release pins for the ammunition hoppers on his back, each tumbling to the deck in a crash, leaving only the frames which kept them upright, visible.  Cadence fell at his feet, the ammunition feed coiling with a snarky rasp of metal on metal.

 

He drew his Flamer and maglocked the canister to his waist, trapping it under his power-plant.  +Guard well the vial we recovered,+ he told Yeng.  The bio-acid would destroy any seals in their armour.  It would be unwise to risk his brothers.  The bond and burden of the Maelstrom Warders slaved him to this purpose.  He could not save the Chapter, the reality of their descent was plain, but perhaps he could atone for the blood staining his hands from Syndalla.

 

Besides, if he could deploy the toxin and slay the hive ship, Tyber would be annoyed.  He grinned at the thought.

 

+My orders are as follows: fly over the drop point at ten metres, so that I may deploy solo.  Then keep them off me.  Do you think you can do that, Invader?+

 

MR.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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Strike Cruiser Xenocide

(Solastion, Montesa, Teralil, Thorvald)

 

Stripped of his armour by Teralil, Thorvald's frame seems all the more diminished. His body bears the marks of a lifetime of war, an intricate tapestry of scars and faded blue tattoos in the barbaric rune-language of his homeworld. His hair and beard are matted, more brown than flame-red, framing a gnarled face that has taken on the waxen pallor of the dead.

 

Indeed, were it not for your training and experience, you may perhaps be fooled by this counterfeit of death. Around the slab holding the Space Wolf's frame you are able to consult data-slates and servo-skulls connected to the input-ports that thread his black carapace. The Wolf's bio-readings are barely above a flatline. His pulse and breathing are almost entirely imperceptible. Your time in the Deathwatch has exposed you to warriors of different bloodlines, but those of the sixth Legion of old are renowned for their divergent biologies. Still, the Sus-An Membrane has activated, sustaining his life even after falling from thousands of metres.

 

 

 

GM:

 

Morovir: If you want to write a scene with Teralil repairing Thorvald's armour you absolutely could. Keep taking Trade (Armourer) tests until you fail three times - tell me how many successes you reach.

 

Slips/Noctus: Feel free to work on your post as per the email!

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GM: Managed to lose this post once, here's the re-do:

 

Vinov: A World of Death

(Akkad, Ghent, Greysight, Sabaan and Yeng)

 

Sabaan brings the Stormraven in closer and closer, the downward thrusters kicking up gritty swirls of dust. The forward ramp opens with the shrill sound of contaminant alarms, allowing the Astral Claw to see the ground below.

 

You land with a heavy crunch, your armour’s servomotors grinding noisily. Hefting your flamer, you take a moment to see what lies between you and the shore of the acid sea. The entire stretch of shoreline is consumed by a boiling vat of thrashing claws, deafening screeches and fountaining geysers of acid. The swarm around you is thinning and it seems that not a single one of the Tyranid creatures pays you any heed. Strange indeed, to have your head in the proverbial lion's mouth - and yet you know from your Deathwatch training that the beasts of the Hive Mind are often driven by instinctive, animalistic behaviours.

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It was a graveyard, a rat's alley where even the dead men had lost their bones to the ravening beasts.

 

Thunder roiled in from the front, the thrashing of a sea consuming the hordes below.  The Death of Vinov was heartbeats away.  His heartbeats.  His chest thumped in anticipation, not the fear of men, nor even the apprehension of Astartes but the clarity of purpose, the removal of doubt.  That all roads should lead him here, to this, caused his smile under the helm.  The armour growled at the indignities heaped upon it, the landing, the guttural cry of the scything wind.

 

Amber runes painted in his display.

Target: 150 metres.

 

His warplate sang a dirge to him, of it's ablative outer layer being pitted and scoured by the bio-acids, the spittle of hatred, of insatiable hunger.  He peered at the pauldron displaying the panoply of his chapter, a symbol now being erased in spots and blots even as Huron himself wiped away the past glories of Badab and the Astral Claws with his ascerbic nature.  That the Maelstrom Zone should be secured was beyond question, but finally in this clarity he understood the wrongness of the taloned grip.

 

You can count on me, Badabian.  The Invader, of all people, who had lost his own world to bitter enemies.

 

The Killteam was Kin.  Just like the Warders.

 

He began to move forwards, no more time to lose, pushing himself into a rumbling train of power armour, a battering ram aimed right at the maw of the lion, flamer in hand.

 

Akkad triggers Demeanour: Maelstrom Warders
If rolling for Initiative, Akkad will use a Fate (if granted from Demeanour) to score a 10.

Akkad will activate Solo Mode, Burst of Speed, to increase his AG Bonus to 6.

Because of Hulking, Akkad also boosts by +1 AG for a total of AG 7.

He use a Fate point to increase his Rank to 3, thereby adding +10 to AG tests and allowing the Solo Mode to last for three turns.
Akkad runs, directly forward, 42m towards the Digestion pool and commits to a horizontal leap

AG Test for leap: AG 45 + 10 (+10 for each 4 metres travelled to a maximum of +30)  = 85
D100: 008
PASS + 7 DoS = Distance 7m (AG Bonus+Burst of Speed benefit) + 1/2m per DoS (Not the Mod!) 3.5 rd/up (4) = 11m

Total distance travelled 53m/173 feet

​Height achieved: 13m/43 feet (One quarter of distance travelled).

AG test for landing: 45 + 10 = 55

D100: 040 on the nose.

 

Seeing a writhing mass of feeder tendrils, Akkad heaved into the air, vaulting to avoid them as they snaked around, seeking friend and foe alike - all to be fed to the bio-gruel slopping around the shore of a cancerous ulcer on the planet's surface.  Leaning into the tumble, he came down from the leap onto his shoulder, rolling up his feet from the momentum.

 

Target: 97 metres.  Not bad.  His self-congratulations were short-lived as he looked up at the behemoth above.

 

He set off again.

 

MR.

 

EDIT: Calculations now correct as per p208 Core plus 'Hulking'.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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The Stormraven rose, the roar almost lost in the shrieking madness around them. The atmosphere itself was toxic, dissolving. Sabaan watched the orange targeting brackets representing the Astral Claw wobble and bob through a sea of red target locators.

Calculus was still out if the Devastator's Action were going to be effective or would prove foolhardy. A blink click committed the locator beacon to his memory enhancement. Keeping the gunship airborne and operational required the use of his full capacities, both mental and physically. Outside, heaven and earth met in sick, disturbingly organic miasma.

Vector jets firing, the Techmarine let the gunship drift sideways,circling the area through clouds of spores and dissolving xenos. Spearcast's bow guns hammering out Burst of projectiles, the blunt nose of the gunship wandering side to side like the head of an angry beast seeking it's prey as Sabaan fired, picking out larger synapse xenoform and drawing the ire of the feeding tentacles seemingly at random. Their success would rest in keeping the swarm's attention away from the real threat as long as possible...

A stray thought brought a memory. He was running along the Storm Son, attempting a similar deceptive tactic during their war games on the Voice of Thunder...

>>Evade!<< Instinctively, he pushed the simulus-memory away, barely just in time to bank Spearcast sideways. out of a feeder tube's ravenous grasp. Sprays of acidic blood hissed on the canopy as he retaliated, guns blazing. The severed tip of the tube fell and was immediately lost in the seething mass below.

+++Keep them occuppied!+++ the Techmarine grunted both by vox and angry binharic.

+++Let hatred by your shield, their blood your salvation!+++

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

As the Astral Claw makes his desperate, seemingly suicidal charge toward the enemy, the Stormraven hangs heavily behind him. The front-mounted heavy bolters stitch heavily into the churning swarm around Akkad, shredding through acid-weakened chitin and flesh and throwing up gobbets of flesh and chunks of dead earth in a mist of meat and mud. At the same time, the gunship’s turret opens up as Ghent triggers the twin-linked assault cannons; their throaty roar a counterpoint to the bark of the heavy bolters - a thunderous choir preaching death to the xenos.

The path is clear to the hissing shoreline. This is the moment for Ryken’s toxin to be delivered. It is easy enough: the Magos had demonstrated it, and such a simple activation rite could be performed by even the newest Initiate to your Chapters. Just lift the panel and strike the rune of armament.

As Akkad begins to carry out the rite, there is a titanic eruption from the pool, a geyser of acid fountaining into the air... and in the midst of it, a creature bursts from the shallows, corrosive gruel sloughing deep runnels in hardened chitin, hideous jaws distending as it shrieks. It strikes the Astral Claw in the torso, knocking him off his feet and sending the canister up in the air.

COMBAT - ROUND 1

All Astartes Warriors are SURPRISED

Tyranid Mawloc strikes Akkad: 1D10+23 (Pen 5): 7 (30)
Akkad has TB10 and Armour 10 (5): 15 Wounds sustained (7 remaining)
Concussive: Akkad is STUNNED for 1 round and knocked down.



The creature rears above the Astral Claw, its multiple limbs stretched out in what seems like exultation, and for a moment, through the bilious green fog, it looks like some primitive god-totem worshipped by savages.

 

Edited by Commissar Molotov
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Despite their vigilance and training, the sudden eruption of the Tyranid beast in the digestion pool was unexpected. It took Ghent only two seconds to realise what was happening and to respond with the full fury of the twin-linked assault cannons but that was enough time for the monstrous creature to strike Akkad down — they would need to buy him time to recover and get back up.
 
The Invader snarled and let loose a storm of metal death.
 
Full-Auto Burst with Twin-Linked Assault Cannon against the Gargoyle group:
BS48 (+20 FAB, +20 Twin-Linked, +30 Massive, -20 Vehicle-Mounted Weapon): 44 (HIT, 5 DoS)
 
Hit 1, Tyranid Mawloc: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 20 (+6)
Mawloc has TB12 and Armour 10 (Pen 6 = Armour 4): 10 Damage
 
Hit 2, Tyranid Mawloc: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 17 (+6)
Mawloc has TB12 and Armour 10 (Pen 6 = Armour 4): 7 Damage
 
Hit 3, Tyranid Mawloc: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 23 (+6)
Mawloc has TB12 and Armour 10 (Pen 6 = Armour 4): 13 Damage
 
Hit 4, Tyranid Mawloc: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 23 (+6, +1D10 Righteous Fury: 10)

Mawloc has TB12 and Armour 10 (Pen 6 = Armour 4): 23 Damage
 
Hit 5, Tyranid Mawloc: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 20 (+6, +1D10 Righteous Fury: 6)

Mawloc has TB12 and Armour 10 (Pen 6 = Armour 4): 16 Damage
 
Hit 6, Tyranid Mawloc: 3D10+6I Pen 6: 7 (+6)

Mawloc has TB12 and Armour 10 (Pen 6 = Armour 4): 0 Damage

Edited by Dosjetka
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Erupting from the earth, a monster.  A Kraken big enough to eclipse the sun of even this, dying world.  A maw so large and hungry it would swallow the earth in one bite.  The colours and sounds were just a sweep of light and shade, shapes and meaningless babble.  The thunder of two hearts, the last gasps of a gambit failed.

 

He fell over and landed heavily on his back.  Whatever he'd been carrying, the burden, gone from his hands like smoke through his desperately clutching gauntlets.

 

The Throne of Thorns towered above him, a monster upon it in baroque silvered plate, the armour of a god.  No mortal could stand against it, judgement, so cold and hard.  A death sentence issued from the twisted lips of a cursed lord.

"I expected much of you," Huron said, in that cold manner he became accustomed to later. "Misled and absorbed by your own hubris.  A shame, a waste."

"I am loyal to the Throne, my liege, and the Chapter," Akkad stammered, uncertain.

"But which?" said a voice behind him.

 

He pushed up on his elbow to see a row of his brothers, all in smashed plate, skulls cleaved and bleeding, vast holes blown open in their chests.  He knew the wounds. Bolter-fire.  Cycla, Enlil-Su, Anraphael of the Lamenters, Temudden of the Mantis Warriors, but they wore strange panoply.  A white, mechanical hand.  The sigil of thunder and lightning in a spiked wheel, ever turning.  A star and skull.  Green and yellow patchwork.

 

"And so you fail again," Huron shifted forward in his armoured casque, the metal grinding on the marble throne, a naked blade against teeth, nails on glass, the sound of a throat hungering for his flesh, his soul...

 

 

MR.

Edited by Mazer Rackham
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GM: Assuming Akkad still activates Bolter assault, here are Greysight's rolls for Nineswords:

 

Single Shot as Part of Bolter Assault:

BS55 +30 (SIZE): 17 (HIT) 

1D10+9 Damage (Hellfire Ammunition): 5 (14)

Mawloc has TB12 and Armour 10 (Ignored by Hellfire): 2 Damage

 

Greysight exits Squad Mode:

 

Semi Auto Burst:

BS55 + 10 (SAB), +10 (Bolter Mastery), +30 (SIZE): 92 (HIT, 2 Degrees of Success) 

Hit 1: 1D10+9(+1, Bolter Mastery) (Hellfire Ammunition): 9(RF, +3) = 22 Damage (reduced to 10 Damage) 

Hit 2: 1D10+9(+1, Bolter Mastery) (Hellfire Ammunition): 8 = 18 Damage (reduced to 6 Damage) 

 

18 Wounds inflicted upon Mawloc

 
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COMBAT - ROUND 2

AKKAD | AG4 + 10 (14) | (STUNNED - 1 TURN) | WOUNDS 7/22 | FATE 2/5

GHENT | AG6+2(+1) (9) | WOUNDS 21/21 | FATE 2/2

MAWLOC | AG4 + 5 (9) | 
GREYSIGHT | AG4+5 (9) | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 5/5
SABAAN | AG4+3 (7) | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/3
YENG | AG4 + 1 (5) | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 3/3


GM:
For clarity's sake, assume a distance of 150 metres between Spearcast and the shore of the Digestion Pool.
There are approximately 130 metres between Spearcast and Akkad. (So 20 metres between Akkad and the Mawloc.)
The canister, for now, cannot be seen.

Edited by Commissar Molotov
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