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Spess Mareen: Republican Commando

Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 01:30:20 2015 No.41210182 View View Reply Original Report

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A while ago I offered to run a Deathwatch game for everyone. I decided to call it Spess Mareen: Republican Commando. We've had a few episodes now, and I think everything is going quite well. In Spess Mareen: Republican Commando, the players are a Deathwatch Kill Team sent to the Tiji Sector to address a growing trouble called the Cult of the Hellstar. Far from civilized Imperial space, stuck out in the galactic boondocks, and facing horrific enemies and allies that will test their patience and sanity, they must complete their mission, in the Emperor's name.

"Felleye" Brynjol, Space Wolves Assault Marine
Cortain, Aurora Techmarine
Cyril, Ice Wraiths Tactical Marine
Nestor, Guardians of the Covenant Librarian

Some day one may need to grow eyes upon their brain to see the truth. Republican Commando begins.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:32:04 No.41210215 Report

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Episode 1: Rules of Nature

The world of Melledius Beta in the Uredius sector has suffered long since the Night of a Thousand Rebellions. Cults and renegades litter the streets of its many hives, openly profaning the Imperial Creed, law, and order. The Kill Team can feel the rumble of the drop pod as it begins to break atmosphere, the air getting slightly hotter within, even through their armor.

Cyril, the Ice Wraiths Tactical Marine, configures his armor's cooling systems to compensate, as Cortain the Auroran Techmarine reconfigures some of the drop pod's guidance systems. Brynjol, the Space Wolves Assault Marine, takes off his helmet, breathing in the hot air, while shifting uncomfortably.

"Ut leo ira esse retributionum coacervatos ad innocentem," Nestor the Guardian of the Covenant Librarian intones in meditation.

>As the lion's wrath heaped benefits to be innocent.
>Uh...the Romans, they go to the house? I think Google Translate is missing something 'ere...

"Deathwatch Kill Team, can you hear us?" a man's voice states over comms, "This is Uredius Battlefleet Command."
Nestor continues to mutter in prayer. "Imperator transforma peccatrici fuit organum retributionem," he whispers.

>"The emperor was transformed sinful organ retribution"
>Oh no. Sorry, Nestor...

"Affirmative, Command," Cyril replies.
"Complying," Cortain adds.
"Excellent," the voice says, "We'll be advising as best we can. We see your drop pod is already beginning to breach the atmosphere." Indeed, the inside of the pod feels a bit muggy now with the hot moisture in the air.
"Affirmative," Cyril notes.
"We're detecting life signs scattered through the hive," Battlefleet Advisory notes, "Once you've confirmed your location, we can try to assist further. Battlefleet Command out."

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:33:09 No.41210239 Report

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Brynjol, however, stands up, affixing a small seal to each of his fellow members of the team. Though reaction is mixed, the Kill Team collects to reaffirm their oaths, and their mission.

"Since I'm leading this merry band for today..." Brynjol starts, "I thought I'd make these up for us. Oathed to this moment, for this deed."
He takes a breath, uncomfortable with being so formal.
"I am honoured to lead. I will not let down my brothers, my Chapter, or the Allfather above us all. Ave Imperator."
"For the Emperor," Nestor affirms, "Retribution is our right and duty."
Brynjol grins, exposing a couple more teeth than is probably necessary, before swiftly jammings his helmet back on his head, breathing a sigh of relief as the temperature returns to tolerable levels.

The drop pod finally begins to shake and shudder, as atmosphere begins to be at its smoggy thickest. Cortain enacts final rites for a safe decent.

"01000010 01111001 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01001111 01101101 01101110 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01100001 01101000 00100111 01110011 00100000 01101110 01100001 01101101 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100001 01111001 00100000 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01110111 01101111 01110010 01101011 00100000 01100010 01100101 00100000 01100100 01101111 01101110 01100101 00101110 "

>"By the Omnissiah's name may our work be done."
>At least it understands binary...

Finally, the Kill Team feels the thud of impact, as the doors of the drop pod blow out. Outside lay a number of troopers, their armor defaced. They raise their weapons, a heretical prayer on their lips.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:34:10 No.41210258 Report

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBmogMVZFBo

A cluster of about 20 troopers stand ahead, their lasguns aimed at the Kill Team. One guy points his grenade launcher menacingly. However, Brynjol is first out the gate, his power swords blending through the renegade PDF troopers. Cortain provides cover fire with his bolter, nabbing a few troopers and opening up an opening for Nestor to charge in with his jump pack and force sword. Cyril finds some cover and fires into the horde, finally breaking it.

"Run away! The angels of death are here!" a renegade trooper yells.
"REPENT!" Cortain yells.
"RUN," Cyril offers as a counterpoint.

The horde doesn't make it far, though. The last two guys are mercilessly gunned down.

Nestor takes a look around, regarding the devastation. "Your fate is sealed by my brethren," he whispers. The drop pod appears to have landed somwhere in the middle hives, below the hive's cloud cover. The Kill Team sees what they think is a residential block nearby, which leads deeper into the hive. The hive itself reaches above the cloud cover. On occasion, a rumble echoes through the hive.

"That seems as good a place as any to start," Brynjol notes, "We need to head up."
"Understood," Nestor agrees, taking up the rear.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:36:00 No.41210296 Report

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSg01hgD1PQ

Approaching the ruined hab block, the Kill Team can see the damage and decay of ages, much never repaired from the Night of a Thousand Rebellions.

"The death toll must have been enormous..." Brynjol muses as he leads the team forward.
"Deathwatch Kill Team, this is Battlefleet Command," the voice states, "Confirm landfall."
"Landfall confirmed, Command," Brynjol replies.
"Confirmed," Cyril adds, "Deep strike successful; we are active."
"Excellent," Command replies, "We are detecting you in the middle hives, where the workers are stored. If you keep advancing this way, it should lead to a planetary defense force outpost, which holds a filtration corridor to the hive summits."
"Are the workers in imminent danger of some sort?" Nestor asks.
"There should be none left. If there are, they are beyond saving. Feel free to defend yourselves," the voice says, "We will keep vox channels silent and ready in case you require us. Battlefleet Command out."
"Battlefleet Command seems to have the right idea," Brynjol declares, "Let's head towards the PDF outpost. If nothing else, we can survey the corridor."
"Keep up, then," Cyril challenges. Brynjol laughs, a single bark of sound.
Nestor switches to team only comms. "Beyond saving. With you in charge, of course..."

Wandering through the ruined hives, the Kill Team can see the small rooms that once belonged to the hive workers, showing the dust and ruin of time. Brynjol removes his helmet, taking in the odour of the surroundings. Smells like gunpowder, probably from the mined Uredium. It's clear there were a few market stalls for reprocessed food and basic supplies as well, now long destroyed.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:38:23 No.41210342 Report

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Removing his helmet, Brynjol can sense, or perhaps better term is smell, a few life signs around the Kill Team. He gets the feeling he are being watched, but everywhere he looks is a mere flash in the dust clouds. Probably just the hivers gone feral or something. While Cyril advocates hunting down the watchers, Brynjol advises to keep moving, leaving them to their existence. Nestor takes a moment to meditate, reaching out with his Psychometry to feel the surrounding area. He feels fear, wonder, awe.

Nestor snaps out of it. "These people have experienced incredibly traumatic events, so much so they dare not show themselves to us. Make of it what you will."
"Then we leave them be. They've suffered enough without us compounding that," Brynjol suggests, "Let's pick up the pace."

The feeling of being watched never subsides, as the Kill Team makes their way through the hab block, reaching a paved road that circles around. Given the rarity of pavement in a hive, it must be reserved for military use.

Brynjol holds his hand up, signalling a halt. He sights down both directions of the road. The road leads down deeper into the hive to the right, but to the left it ascends, making a sharp right into the ascending hive. The Hive rumbles once more, as the Kill Team turn the bend. They can see the road continue on. In the distance there is a decently sized complex to the left of the road, embedded within the hive building itself.. To the right of the road, scrap and ample cover. A little further down the road, near the building, they can see the openings of a massive access vent that seemingly leads upward.

The Kill Team debates their course of action. Seeking clues in the surroundings, Cyril, Nestor, and Brynjol all fall victim to Zuvassin the Dicebot, getting themselves lost in the surroundings. Cortain, however, looks to the road, and sees tracks. Identifying them as from heavy armor, he advises caution.

Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:39:24 No.41210356 Report

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"Kill Team, we're detecting you near the PDF Outpost," Battlefleet Command voxes, "Advise keeping low. We can't monitor as well within the hive until the sensorium is brought back online."
"Acknowledged," Cyril responds, "Do you recommend vox silence?"
Brynjol laughs. "It's a bit bloody late for that!"
"PDF voxes are not configured for Astartes battle language," Battlefleet Command says, "but we will be unable to contact you the deeper you head in."
"Unfortunate, but understood," Cortain replies.

Deciding to check the PDF Outpost first to deny the enemy war materiel, and potentially salvage heavy ordnance themselves, the Kill Team take the fastest path possible forward - Brynjol and Nestor engaging their jump packs, while Cortain and Cyril advance from the ground.

"The plan has merit. We might as well drop in and say hello..." Brynjol declares, "It'd be the polite thing to do."
"That's not our objective," Cyril objects, "We cut off the head of the snake. All else is secondary."
"A killing blow is easier if you cut off the parrying arm..." Nestor notes.

>I bet he didn't even realize how prophetic this would be.

The Kill Team advances, but Cortain's auspex beeps. Narrowing the search, he has detected an electric spark, and the energy release of combustion. Something has started its engine. The Kill Team advance into position as the complex rolls out its doors, a squad of about 20 guys, a salamander, and a Leman Russ rolling out. Regrettably, jump pack noise is near impossible to hide, so the troops assemble into battle position

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:40:44 No.41210377 Report

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:42:14 No.41210403 Report

Quoted By: >>41220949

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FJ34hgizwPY

"Tanks on the move," Cortain observes.
"It shames me that the vehicle bearing my gene-father's name is taken by these heretics," Brynjol sighs.
"It insults me enough that these faithful Machine spirits are being defiled," Cortain retorts.

Nestor begins the charge, but Brynjol finishes it, bowling into the horde and posing the age-old question of "Will it Blend." Cortain and Cyril help thin the horde before dealing with the vehicles. Lucky for them, return fire goes awry, as the Salamander jams and Brynjol effortlessly dodges the Battle Cannon shot, leaving it to careen into the horde, pummeling a dozen guys.

"Look, brothers! The enemy works for us!" Brynjol laughs hysterically.
"The Emperor's holy tanks know who they serve," Cyril affirms.
"Their Machine Spirits resist still," Cortain nods in approval, "Commendable!"

Deciding the horde is now a nonfactor, the Kill Team turn their meltas to the Leman Russ, seriously damaging it. It is Cortain who strikes the final blow, destroying the renegade tank, but inadvertently blowing Brynjol (who was standing on top of it) sky high. The fact that he fury'd the explosion did not help matters. The Salamander attempts a last-ditch ram, but misses, exposing itself for everyone to finish off with concentrated melta fire, prompting the crew to explode.

"The sound of retribution..." Nestor whispers.
"The Machine God will grieve for His lost children," nods Cortain solemnly.
Brynjol walks forward, his feet not entirely steady after surviving the point-blank explosion. "Next time, at least give me a bit of bloody warning!" he cries, his ears ringing a bit before his enhanced organs take over. Cortain moves to repair the breaches in Brynjol's armor. He pauses only to hear the rumbling get slightly louder all over the hive.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:43:20 No.41210422 Report

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Within the access hatch is a ladder that leads up. The Kill Team begin the long climb up. For a normal person this climb would be arduous, but luckily they are space marines, and they could pull themselves up half asleep thanks to implants. Climbing, climbing, climbing, or flying in some cases, the Kill Team eventually reaches the summit. The Kill team has reached the hive spire, the Sensoria Primaris now in clear view. Automated turrets nearby clear out some charging heretics, and return to scanning configurations.

"The Sensorium is still in loyal hands, then?" Brynjol asks.
Cortain nods, "This would be most fortunate."
The hive itself seems to rumble.
"Not bloody again!" yells Brynjol, "This is going to turn out to be a damn Warhound or something, I can just tell..."

The turrets lock on to the Kill Team for a brief moment, but then they stop, and a door opens at the sensoria's base.

"Forward. This is taking too long," Cyril insists, "Who knows what the Enemy are up to."
"Battlefleet Command, this is Deathwatch Kill-Team," Brynjol voxes.
"Battlefleet Command reading," the vox says, "Kill Team, what is your situation?"
"We have reached the Sensoria Primaris. Minor resistance en-route."
"Excellent. Re-enable the sensoria, and verify the mechanicus garrison's presence," the vox says, "Once you enable it, we can tune our augurs to the entire hive."
"Confirmed."

"This was too easy..." Nestor mutters.
"I agree. Stay frosty, cousins," Cyril notes as the Kill Team enter the sensoria. Walking into the Sensoria Primaris, a number of tech-adepts rush to greet the Kill Team. Upon seeing who is supporting them, they sink to their knees.
"Explain to me the situation, fellow servants of the Omnissiah," Cortain demands.
Nestor semi-forcefully pulls the tech-adepts up, annoyed at their display of subservience. "Bow to the Emperor. Not us."

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:44:59 No.41210451 Report

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"Thank you for coming, honored Astartes," an adept says, "The sensoria was disabled in an enemy attack. We lack the clearances and supplies to repair it."
"Then it shall be my honour to aid you," Cortain says, whipping out his combi-tool and flash-soldering wires together. Interfacing with the terminal, it does seem that there are numerous locks in place. However, as a Techmarine he has a higher security clearance, and he intones the blessed autosimulacra to wakefulness. He finds himself unable to access hive pict-recorders, however.

"This does seem too easy..." Brynjol begins to agree.
Nestor walks away from the group, looking pensive. He fetches a deck of cards from the confines of his robes, and gets to work reading the Emperor's Tarot. He sees...something bad approaching. Their greatest challenge yet. The warp itself shall open.

Indeed, the skies above begin to rend and crack.

Nestor exhales audibly, causing static on the vox. "Brothers... Brace for daemonic incursion."

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:46:27 No.41210478 Report

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"I...WILL NOT...RELINQUISH MY PRIZE..." a voice echoes from all around.
"What. Was. That," Cortain demands.
"We stand," Cyril states with finality.
"Kill Team! Something massive is approaching you!" BattleFleet Command voxes, "Keep it away from the Sensoria!"
"Acknowledged!" Cyril yells, turning to Brynjol, "Do we charge?"
"Hold! We assess the nature of our foe before we charge!" Brynjol spits. It takes inordinate effort to not simply charge in.

The Kill Team feels the rumbling. Then again, louder, then even louder and closer. Finally, something unbelievably massive jumps above, landing about 50m from the Sensoria. What was once a...a Warhound Titan lets out a bestal roar. The turrets begin full firing at it, succeeding only at overloading its void shields.

"COME TO ME, ASTARTES," the sound echoes, "THIS IS MY WORLD NOW!"

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:48:27 No.41210509 Report

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N3472Q6kvg0

"They have a Warhound? HERE?" Battlefleet Command exclaims, "Take it out!"
"Easier said than done, Command," Cyril replies calmly, "We are attempting just that."
"Omnes gigantes fuerunt corruet. Ténebras desinit. Leo dirige, manu," Nestor whispers.

>"All giants fall. Darkness ends. A direct hand."
>At least I can make sense of this one.

The Possessed Warhound is armed with a Plasma Blastgun and a Turbolaser, but in such close quarters it cannot bring such weapons to bear effectively. It relies on its daemonically enhanced armament, including a plasma cannon from its bestial mouth, warp-touched missiles from a carapace launcher, heavy stubbers that fire raw warpstuff, and not to mention its blade-tipped tail, grown from the back of the Titan.

The Kill Team take up defensive positions at first, until a swarm of missiles force them out, warp weapon stubbers piercing their ceramite as if it was paper. The Kill Team rail under the monster's Fear 3, but their enhanced mental physiology wards off the worst effects. Brynjol, however, has an idea. He collects everyone's grenades, and charges the thing. Identifying that its armor is weakest (but still fairly significant) at the joints, he lobs the mess of grenades into the joint. They explode together in an incredible blast, heavily damaging the knee. It bleeds raw warpstuff, before daemonic flesh knits itself over. The leg, however, seems far less steady now.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:50:10 No.41210543 Report

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Nestor suggests switching the target to the cockpit, but Cyril correctly points out that it would be useless - the Warhound is possessed, not piloted. The Pilots are probably long dead anyway. Brynjol advances to the head anyway, and gets a blast of plasma out of the thing's mouth for his trouble. The warp stubbers continue to pound away at the Kill Team forcing them into desperate close quarters combat. Nestor and Cyril fire melta-blasts into the second leg, forcing it to regrow and leak pure warp, while Cortain narrowly dodges the monster's tail.

Now the Possessed Warhound is angry.

It leaps into the midst of the Kill Team, and slams its Plasma Blastgun and Turbolaser down upon them. But this time, they are ready. Nestor parries the giant Turbolaser, opening a window for him to charge his force sword and stab into the exposed joint, actually slicing the entire arm off. Cyril too parries the Plasma Blastgun, cutting across the weakened mechanical joints. Cortain holds his ground, parrying the incoming tail once more. Combined with the destroyed leg joints, this actually sends the Warhound off balance. The Warhound attempts to catch Brynjol within its mouth, but he knocks it to the side. As the Warhound struggles to regain its balance, Brynjol notices something.

It's standing near the edge.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:51:50 No.41210570 Report

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Summoning every feat of strength he has, he pushes the off-balance Warhound off the edge of the hive. Utterly enraged, the Warhound raises its Plasma Blastgun, but succeeds only in overheating, blowing off its chest armor. Its missiles, however, saturate the already weakened platform, causing it to catastrophically destabilize and collapse. The Kill team now find themselves falling alongside the Possessed Warhound.

Cyril, Brynjol, and Nestor begin advancing, leaping from wreckage to wreckage in an attempt to get closer, but Cortain merely locks himself down on a falling shard of the hive, aims his lascannon directly at the Warhound's exposed, corrupted, beating heart, and fires a single shot. The lance of light flies true, hitting the heart.

"FOR THE EMPEROR AND THE OMNISSIAH..." he yells, "01000110 01010101 01000011 01001011 00100000 01011001 01001111 01010101"

>FUCK YOU
>Succinct.

It screams an unearthly roar as the the reactor goes full thermo-nuclear, consuming the beast in a great warp-fueled fireball. Above, the warp-storm begins to dissipate.

"-ll Team! Kill team! Do our voxes hail you?" Battlefleet Command asks, "Where are you?"
"FALLING OFF A HAB, BATTLEFLEET COMMAND, OVER," Brynjol hastily replies.
"The Titan is downed," Cortain states, "Repeat: Titan is downed."
"Support is on its way," says Battlefleet Command, "Good to hear. We have contact with the sensoria. This will bode well for our attempts to reconquer the world.
"WELL THAT'S GOOD TO KNOW, BATTLEFLEET COMMAND," Brynjol yells, as he and Nestor go to help their jump-packless brethren.

After about 55 tense seconds of falling, the Kill team finally see a Navy Valkyrie fly in close, doors open.
"Iustitia tradita leo," Nestor concludes.

>Justice handed down a lion.
>Uh

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Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:52:21 No.41210581 Report

Quoted By: >>41211847

You have good players OP

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:52:57 No.41210591 Report

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While Nestor takes care of Cyril, Brynjol gets a firm grip of Cortain's chestplate with a growl of effort, injecting every last dreg of power into his jump pack to force them towards the Valkyrie.
"You have my thanks, Brynjol," Cortain states plainly.
"Call me Bryn, I bloody hate it when I get the full name," VBrynjol requests.
"You seem fond of that word," Cyril muses.
Nestor allows his brothers to help him into the ship, laughing quietly.
"Does something amuse you, Nestor?" Cortain asks.
"We have just faced the greatest enemy of our lives..." he whispers, "According to the Emperor's Tarot."
"Aye, it's all gravy from now on!" Brynjol laughs.
"To laugh in the face of such terror...it confuses me," Cortain wonders, "But we have accomplished our duty regardless."

Disembarking the Valkyrie, the navy ratings all kneel before the Kill team, much to Nestor's annoyance. Medicae personnel stand ready, but they seem a bit lost on Astartes physiology.

"My Lords," says one of the Lord Commanders who greets you, "I am honored to greet the heroes of Melledius Beta."
"We are glad to have a team of your renown amongst us," another Lord Commander adds, "To have the God Emperor's Angels of Death personally deliver a world, and to bear witness, is beyond anything I ever thought possible."
"He sends us where we're needed, Lord Commanders," Brynjol states.
"Surely, with your kill team at the head of the reclamation, we will have this sector restored in n-" The Lord Commander stops. A monotask messenger servitor delivers them a sealed scroll, which they open. All the joy in their faces drains.
"...A problem?" Brynjol asks. Cyril steps forward to look for himself.
"My lieges, I'm...I'm so sorry." says one Lord Commander.
"For?" Nestor asks. Brynjol steps forward, eyes narrowing.
"My Lords, we have just received a missive," says another Lord commander, "It seems you have been reassigned...to the Tiji Sector."

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:55:38 No.41210640 Report

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Episode 1 was a fun introductory episode, and it allowed me to see what the players were capable of at Rank 2. I could then tailor everything to REALLY give them a challenge. They started off in a relatively normal sector. Only now does the journey begin, and their abilities truly begin to get tested.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:57:32 No.41210684 Report

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Episode 2: Long Travels

Re-equipping and weapon returning has taken some time, but eventually everything is in its proper place. Word has been received that a Chartist vessel has been diverted from its normal path to act as a courier. The station lurches and groans as the chartist transport successfully docks with the great star fortress. A knock on the doors to the armorium disturbs the Kill Team's normal rituals.

"Enter!" Brynjol yells, grinning.
"It's typical to ask who is it before shouting enter, Brynjol.." Nestor gently reminds.

A robed adept shuffles in, head bowed. "My lords," he says through a vox grill, "The...transport has arrived."

Brynjol sighs, strapping a final swatch of metal tape around the grip of his chainsword, gunning it briefly. It doesn't fall apart, so he looks somewhat satisfied. Cyril continues murmuring prayers as he checks and refills his boltgun's magazines.

"You have our thanks," Nestor says to the adept, "Now, stop with the subservient behavior."
"Leave him be," Brynjol grins, "It seems to be a reflex with mortals."
"And growing agitated by their reflex is my reflex..." Nestor tersely quips.
"Forgive me, my liege," the Adept raises his head somewhat, quaking, "When you are ready, I will show you the way..."

Everyone finishes the rites of equipment, though Nestor cannot help but prod at Brynjol's difficulty in fitting into his armor. "Shall we?" Brynjol finally asks.
"Let us be off, cousins," Cyril agrees.
"This had best be worth our time," Cortain mutters, "I had a Damocles to look at."
"This way" the Adept says, walking out of the armorium.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 01:59:23 No.41210723 Report

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"My Lords," the adept says along the trip, "I advise you, the crew of the transport are...not as respectful as we are. I pray thee forgive them."
"Bloody finally!" Brynjol celebrates prematurely, "I wonder if they'll be able to drink mjod..."
"Hm," Nestor wonders, "Pray tell whom controls the ship?"
"A chartist captain, Lord, I know not his name," the adept replies, shaking, "A most flippant, horrid man."
"I suspect our tour will be paid with a Xenos extermination on the lower decks," Nestor sighs, "Like that other time..."
"Your passage has already been paid for, my liege," the adept continues, "I hypothesize that is why he is so upset."
"Let's meet him, then!" Brynjol yells excitedly.
"I don't consider myself a Liege..." Nestor muses.
"You are an Astartes Librarian, a command unit outranking him," Cyril shrugs, "He has a point, cousin."

The trip through the station takes a many minutes more, before the hangar comes into view. However, the Kill Team's autosenses begin to pick up loud voices.

While everyone else seems focused on the terrified Adept, Nestor and Brynjol hear what appears to be an argument.

~~~
"...ose are ASTARTES! The God Emperor's avenging angels!"
"Yes, I'm aware. And right now they're my cargo. So they'll go with the rest of the cargo."
"You can't...this is..."
"I can, and I will. The Genetor is barely paying me enough to recoup this trip. I'm being put incredibly out of my way."
"I've never seen such inso-"
"I don't care. This is just a job. All I need to do is complete it and I can be on my way."
~~~

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:00:30 No.41210746 Report

Quoted By:

"What's going on?" Cortain asks, his autosenses suffering static.
"Are your ears burning, brother?" Brynjol grins, "Someone's referring to us as cargo."
"Excuse me?" a shocked Cortain yells, "CARGO?"
"Well.. I -did- complain about subservient behavior..." Nestor sighs.
"Someone's trying to convince him we're special, and he's insisting we be shipped with the crates," Brynjol shrugs.
"We ARE boarding a transport, Cortain," Cyril calmly points out.
"Aye, but I reckon our berth is going to be less than luxurious..." Brynjol realizes, "I'm looking forward to meeting this captain of ours. I wonder if he's any good at arm wrestling?"
"By your standards?" Cyril thinks, "No."
"Provided I am allowed my studies, it's irrelevant whether I'm in a palace or a hovel," Nestor concedes.

The adept shudders as the doors to the hangars open. The Kill Team can see a man and his bridge crew disappearing out of sight, as well as a number of slack-jawed adepts and Militarum personnel.
"I'm...so sorry, honored Astartes," the adept coughs.
"Irrelevant," Cyril declares, "Cousins, let us settle in."

"Why? Not your fault," Brynjol slaps the man on the back in a gesture of thanks.
"It was...a pleasure...to be of assistance," the adept gurgles as every bone in his body breaks simultaneously.
"...bugger," sighs Brynjol.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:01:52 No.41210779 Report

Quoted By:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tARfKHBSAfA

"Honored Kill Team," one of the Astra Militarum personnel, "we will never forget the services you have performed for us."
"We are the Emperor's instruments," Cyril bows, "As are you."
"We wish you luck in your posting," a tech-adept beeps, "May the Omnissiah watch over you."
"May He watch over us all," Cyril responds, "Now, go."

The departure party nods, and returns to their duties. Soon, four armed ratings appear from the connection tube.
"Ah, Astartes," says one of the ratings, "Please come with us."
"To the hold, I presume?" Nestor asks as Cyril and Cortain idly follow.
"Yes, sir," another rating says, "Everything has been prepared."
"Prepared..." Nestor mutters, "Are you crating us in?"
"No, my lord," a rating says, "We doubt we could in the first place."
"We'll be having a word with the captain once we're embarked," Brynjol leans in, "Feel free to let him know."
"That is a unilateral, yet as of now supported by one, stance," Nestor points out.
"The captain has ordered us not to disturb him," the rating says as he leads the Kill team aboard the chartist vessel, "But we will pass the message on through the appropriate channels."

"He doesn't want to be disturbed?" Brynjol laughs, "My, he's going to be so disappointed."
"Correct, sir," a rating says, "He is already very upset, it seems."
"That must be terrible for him," Brynjol sarcastically yells, "THE POOR MAN."
"There best be something worth this absurd circumstance..." Cortain sighs.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:03:48 No.41210816 Report

Quoted By:

Eventually, the ratings lead the Kill Team deep within the vessel. There are cargo containers all around. A rumble echoes all around as the vessel's plasma drive engages, and the trip is begun.
"So, what's the cargo..?" Nestor asks.
"You, my lords," the final rating says, "The trip is expected to take three months. If we can be of service, please say so."

Cyril requests the temperature be lowered, while Cortain's auspex determines remnants of plant matter, probably grains, in the empty storage boxes all around. Brynjol follows the ratings out, forcefully ensuring their message will be passed along. Brynjol and Nestor plan out some petty vandalism in the holds, but Cyril cautions against it from his dark crate.

"Cyril, why are you in a crate?" Brynjol asks.
"It is comfortably dark," Cyril replies.
"... Reasonable," Brynjol shrugs.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:05:54 No.41210855 Report

Quoted By: >>41210934

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-U5W6Kdcys

As the journey well and truly gets on its way, the Kill Team can feel the temperature drop as requested. The cargo hold, already normally cold for transporting foodstuffs, is now becoming even colder. Brynjol, quite bored, heads to the door, bumping into a small trolley.

"Oh, wow, Space Marines!" the young man pushing the trolley exclaims.
"State your intentions," Cortain declares.
"I'm here to bring you your food," the man says.
"Cracking!" Brynjol yells, "And afterwards, you can take us to the captain."

Everyone takes what food appeals to them - Brynjol takes the meatiest, while Cyril takes the bloodiest. Nestor takes a simple package of bread, while Cortain avails himself to a can of WD40 on the trolley.

"I'm sorry, noble Astartes, but the captain isn't seeing anyone right now," he says, his breath visible, "For now, we've worked to bring you the prepared rations."
"You know, men of the Rout are a feral and savage lot. When we get disconcerted, we often react violently," Brynjol whispers, "It's a terrible shame."

"My name's Genericus," he says, "Genericus Guy. I'm happy to be of service. To be honest, you're the first ones I've talked to in a long time."
"Would you be so kind as to answer our questions regarding the 'captain'?" Nestor asks, "It's been a long trip and we would like to break the monotony."
"Of course!" Genericus says, "I'll be happy to help."
"This is unusual. He isn't sweating or trembling," Brynjol points out with mouth stuffed, "I like him!"

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:06:56 No.41210880 Report

Quoted By: >>41211442

"We sent a message some time ago, Cortain begins, "Has he received it?"
"Some of the armsmen relayed a message, I'm told," Genericus says, "It will take the captain a while to get it."
"Does your captain have such mercurial episodes often?" Nestor asks, "After any events in particular?"
"Well, my lord, he may be upset that he is transporting Space Marines again," Genericus explains, "The last time he did so, they were of the Black Panthers chapter, and they generally left the place a mess."
Cyril thinks of the Black Panthers, a chapter that recruits from underhive gangs, their chapter culture mirroring their origins, and spits out the disgust.

"What can you tell us of the Tiji Sector?" Nestor asks, "I do not feel comfortable with that name."
"The Tiji sector?" Genericus begins, "Well, it's home, and we often see space marines a lot," he continues, "My great grandfather saw some once. His name was Jim. He used to be an Inquisitorial Scion, until he had a nervous breakdown and mistook an honored member of the Deathwatch for an ork."

The Kill Team take a moment to enjoy their meals, Genericus standing ready.

"Well, the captain has stored the supplies for you all elsewhere, so the rest of the crew does not think it theirs," Genericus explains, "Special command from the House - on our lives, those supplies are for the Space Marines only."
"That seems unusually precise," Brynjol wonders.
"They don't mess around," Genericus shrugs.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:09:04 No.41210927 Report

Quoted By:

Brynjol, however, gets a cunning plan. Requesting the rest of the Kill Team distract Genericus, Brynjol begins to wander out. Nestor calls Genericus over, and performs an augury with his Tarot deck.

"What does this man's Captain intend towards our team?" Nestor asks nobody in particular, it seems.
However, performing a Tarot during warp travel is perhaps not the best of ideas, and the cargo hold begins to shake and rumble, as Nestor triggers Psychic Phenomena.

"Damn it, Nestor, save your witchery for the slaughter!" an angry Cyril yells.
Alarms begin to blare throughout the ship as the carbo bay quakes.
Brynjol turns on Nestor, snarling. He looks genuinely angry for the first time.
"Sort your bloody maleficarum out!" he yells, his teeth bared.
"Restrain yourself!" Cortain demands, "Or I will make sure of it."
"An unwelcome side effect of a needed deed..." Nestor begins.
"It will NOT happen again... RIGHT?" Cyril coughs.
"You are welcome to slay the witch, or try," Nestor angrily responds, his hand on his force weapon.
"Shut your mouth, Nestor," Brynjol sighs, We're not going to do that, but you need to not do that again, ESPECIALLY not on a bloody chartist ship."
"It is as the Wolf says," Cyril agrees, "We have no problem with you or your powers, but there is a time and place. This is neither."
"One who knows nothing of the Empyrean gets to tell me nothing of my craft!" Nestor cries.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:09:21 No.41210934 Report

Quoted By: >>41211847

>>41210855
>Genericus Guy
Fantastic!

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:10:54 No.41210971 Report

Quoted By:

After a few minutes, a number of armsmen enter the cargo bay.
"Astartes! Are you all right?" they ask, "We detected a structural fault!"
"We are well," Cyril confirms, "Is the ship undamaged?"
"All is well elsewhere," the armsmen say, "We are glad that you are safe. We will heighten security for your protection."
"I'm sorry?" Brynjol blurts, taken aback, "Did you mortals just say you would heighten security for Astartes protection?"
"Yes, sir, it is imperative you make it to the Tiji sector," one armsman says, "Our lives depend on it."
"An unforgiving captain, I must say," Cortain wonders.
"We are deadlier than your ship's entire crew combined," Cyril offers, "We are sufficient security."
The ratings look to each other, "If that is your wish, then we will follow it." They begin to head out.
"There are many who wish to see you safe, Astartes. Your lives are priority compared to our own," Genericus says.

"Why do you think I'm trying to rampage through the ship? I'm bloody not!" Brynjol yells, his patience wearing thin, "I just want to talk to our captain and get a few answers - for one, why we're stuck in the hold, and for another, why everyone is putting so much emphasis on 'our lives depend on this'"
"I do not expect you to rampage immediately, but your social graces have tended distinctly towards confrontation thus far," Cyril notes.
"Space Marines, before we left, we were told by numerous factions that you were to arrive safe and sound at Catalyst Station," Genericus says, "to give our own lives if necessary, for they would be void if you were harmed."
"What could harm us that you could stop?" Cyril jests.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:12:15 No.41211002 Report

Quoted By:

"I...don't know, Space Marines," Genericus sighs, "But for the Inquisition, the House, the Lords of Iniega, and more to take such a stance, well, it must be important."
"Take us to your leader, Genericus," Brynjol finally demands.
"I...can't," Genericus sighs, "He's most likely securing the way forward. We were told to take a haphazard route, which will ensure secrecy."
"Astartes guests, please return to the cargo hold," the ratings say, "We'll take care of the rest."
"So be it," Cyril concludes, "I will trust in the Inquisition today."
Cortain joins Cyril back at the bay, his own patience beginning to fray.

"The one doing the brunt of the work will be your ship's Navigator, your Captain will do...whatever captains do," Nestor pushes, He can spare the time."
"The stormweaver speaks truth," Brynjol nods.
"We don't have a navigator," says Genericus, "We use a Void Abacus, since the Tiji sector is normally too far out for navigators. The Captain is ensuring our passage as best he can."
"Alright then. Take us to your Seneschal," Nestor suggests.
"Do you see our predicament, Space Marines?" he asks, "We disturb the captain, our lives are forfeit. If you suffer harm, our lives are forfeit. If we are delayed in transporting you, our lives are forfeit. There's so much riding on your safe passage."
"Though I appreciate the reverence you hold for us, His sons, I feel as though a degree of...transparency is missing," Cortain sighs.
"Are these folk's lives so meaningless to you all? It costs us nothing to exercise patience," Cyril objects, "We have our orders, and they have theirs. Both are compatible."
"We already know their captain doesn't really care about the vaunted Astartes travelling on his ship," Bryjnjol notes, "I heard him call us 'cargo', remember!"
"It was most likely the stress..." Genericus says, "We're all on edge."

The Kill Team dejectedly return to the cargo hold, more confused at this point than suspicious. This is NOT normal protocol they are used to.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:13:48 No.41211037 Report

Quoted By:

"I will bring you what you require every day, Space Marines," Genericus says, as he backs out, "If you require any more information or supplies, I will try to get them to you."
"What is it that makes the Captain so...averse to us?" Cortain finally asks.
"If the mission fails," Genericus says as the door closes, "He will die too..."

Time passes, as the trip continues. The Kill team feels the vessel go in and out of the warp multiple times, and every day Genericus Guy appears with food and supplies. The Kill Team spend more time with Genericus, discussing the quickly approaching Tiji Sector, and why they are not allowed to prove themselves. However, the conversation is cut short as the vessel itself begins to shake and crack.

"Have we arrived in Tiji?" Cortain asks.
Genericus almost loses his balance. "No...we're not set to arrive for another month..."
Dull thuds reverberate across the ship, then the lights flicker.
"Bloody hell. Have we been boarded?" Brynjol asks.
Last come the screams.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:15:07 No.41211070 Report

Quoted By:

Nestor sighs, drawing his Force Sword. "Prepare for an incursion, squad."
"Human, stay behind us!" Brynjol commands.
Definite thuds, characteristics of explosions, begin to echo across the chartist transport, and the screams get louder.
"Yes, sir, Space Marine!" Genericus replies, drawing a lasgun.
"Helms on," Cortain declares.
"Let us hurry before we have no crew to speak of," Nestor advises.
"On my mark, squad..." Cyril commands. Taking ad-hoc command and making a hasty Oath to Glory, the Kill Team move out. Outside the door, the screaming is magnified.

Brynjol advances first, down the hall. Turning a corner, he can see a rating running toward him. Then he convulses, foaming at the mouth falling. Like lightning, the dark, lithe shape is already moved on.
"I think it's frigging Eldar," Brynjol curses, "The warp-touched ones."
>I do not quite understand why he refers to Dark Eldar as Warp-Touched, as the Craftworlders would fit that more.

Engaging his jetpack, Brynjol lands in front of the running form, turning his chainsword to the foe. He can clearly identify him as a Dark Eldar, his green iridescent armor reflecting the dim light. With a swift return, Brynjol bisects the corsair, giblets flying about.

"I was right. Bloody dark eldar," Brynjol sighs.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:16:11 No.41211096 Report

Quoted By:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HrxVFcYecbo

"Space Marines!" Genericus asks, "What's the plan?"
"Purge the raiders. Find the entry point. Seal it off," Cortain suggests.
"If you need me, command me!" Genericus says.

Deciding to remain as one, the Kill Team have Genericus lead them to the bridge, the most likely location of a breach.

"FOR THE EMPEROR AND THE PRIMARCHS, FORWARD!" Cyril yells commandingly.
"Yes, sire!" Genericus yells.
Cortain, meanwhile, attaches himself to the ship's voxnet.
"Attention, crew," he blares, "You are under the watch of the Angels of Death. These Xenos here, they are many, but they are weak. Fight them, and ensure that any ground that is gained is paid for in blood."

The Kill Team advance ahead of Genericus's directions, entering Squad Mode as they do so. Entering the crew quarters, the Kill Team come across a great horde of Kabalites, attempting to take prisoners. Rallying the armsmen, the Kill Team weather a storm of splinter fire, advancing with grenade and disciplined bolter fire to rip apart the horde. Genericus is ordered to provide covering fire as Nestor manifests his Avenger power, shattering the horde with a flaming wave of Lion El'Jonsons. Brynjol takes it upon himself to chase down and destroy the remaining Kabalites as they scatter.

"The enemy are terrible, but humanity is STRONG!" Cyril yells as the armsmen cheer, "We shall NOT allow them to humiliate us!"

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:17:21 No.41211116 Report

Quoted By:

Catching up to Brynjol and regrouping at a Shrine Mechanicus, Cortain takes a moment to check the terminals. The techpriests are long dead, but one of the screens is still going. He restarts the cogitator with sacred rites, and determines this to be a vox and pict-cast monitor station. As the terminal flickers to life, he can connect to a pict-caster near the bridge. Malformed monstrosities parade past, alongside a pale skinny guy with too many arms and a serious need for moisturizer.

"We are far from finished here, brothers," Cortain notes, "The Commorites still seek prey."
"Obnoxiously cheery thus far," Nestor replies.
"These hunters are now the hunted," Cyril laughs.
"Take care. Their leader has monstrous pets," Cortain reminds everyone.

Genericus leads the way, to a large lift. "This will take us to the bridge," he says, "There's no way we'll fail!"
Cyril freezes in alarm at Genericus' words. This can no longer end well.
"There's an unsettling and incomprehensible tendency for such statements to be met with abject failure, Genericus," Nestor helpfully points out.
"Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment," Cortain points out.
"The God Emperor is with us, and I'm fighting directly alongside the Adeptus Astartes! We can take back our ship!" Genericus says eagerly, "I'm...I'm not afraid."

The lift slowly creaks and grinds to life. Rising ever higher, the lift ultimately reaches a large set of doors which open slowly. Ahead lies the Command atrium, the bridge ahead. Waiting in the wings, however, are a tide of Wracks, ahead of a pale haemonculus and his trueborn escort.

"Oh look, more playthings," the Haemonculus laughs.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:18:30 No.41211136 Report

Quoted By: >>41223569

The Kill Team take terrible damage from the wave of Blasters, Nestor getting stunned from the damage, and Cyril almost loses an arm to the Haemonculus's hexrifle, but they hold strong. Engaging their Bolter Assault Squad Mode, Brynjol forces himself into the Trueborn, opening a path for Cyril to rush in. Ordering Genericus to provide cover, Cyril actually manages to down the Haemonculus monster with his bolt pistol. Cortain moves to cover Nestor as the Wracks wash over them like a tide. While Cortain and Cyril hold the line, Genericus takes a poisoned knife, falling over wounded.

Utterly enraged, the Kill Team turn their fire to the Wracks. Blasting their way to Genericus, the trueborn realize their boss is dead, and decide discretion is the better part of valor. Rushing to a Slavebringer attached to the vessel's hull, the Trueborn prepare for exit.

Unfortunately for them, Nestor has come to. Manifesting the rage of his primarch, he sends forth a swarm of flaming Lion El'Jonsons to incinerate the remaining wracks and catch the Slavebringer, its doors closing afterwards. The Kill team watch the Slavebringer detach, and explode from the inside as Nestor's unnatural fire burns its way out. In the distance, a Dark Eldar Corsair escort can be seen hastily leaving.

"You did it...Space Marines," Genericus coughs, "I just...need a moment."
"I kept my maleficarum in check," Nestor points out,"That is all..."
"Your powers did us all proud," Cyril agrees, "Now let us go meet our host..."
"One of us does not judge the other's skill," Nestor coughs raspily, "Keep that in mind."

The Kill Team collect themselves - all are heavily wounded. Summoning medicae armsmen to the bridge for Genericus, they finally see the object of their desire - the bridge doors. Genericus drags himself to the cogitator to put in the access codes, but nobody wants to wait anymore. Cortain begins to rip open the door with his servo-arm, Brynjol and Cyril assisting.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:20:23 No.41211189 Report

Quoted By:

"I've REALLY lost my sodding temper now..." Brynjol yells.
"As have I," Cortain agrees.

As the door opens, it's evident the Captain is having a conversation with someone.

~~~
"Yes, yes, they're safe as far as I can tell! The mission from the Inquisitor is still set to be completed!"
"I see. And you are calling because..."
"My ship just got damaged doing this! I demand compensation!"
~~~

Brynjol finally barges in as Cortain and Cyril finish pulling open the door.
"YOU GOT SOME 'SPLAININ' TO DO, FLESHBA-" Cortain's words are caught in his throat.

The captain is on the line with another dark eldar, this one wearing purple armor as opposed to iridescent green.
"We're sorry, but your insurance policy only covers standard cargo. The House cannot reimburse you for damage sustained during special operations," the bored dark eldar sighs.
"You bastard! This is for the Inquisitor! YOU ALL GAVE ME THIS MISSION!" the captain roars.
"Thank you, and have a nice day..." the hololith cuts.

"EXPLAIN," Cyril demands.
The rest of the kill team froths with rage, tripping over themselves to reach the captain.
"I've heard of inquisitors working with Eldar, with the tau, even with orks!" Brynjol cries, "But never the warptouched!"
"It's worse," the captain growls, "It's my insurance agent."

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:21:54 No.41211227 Report

Quoted By:

The Captain takes a deep breath, turning to the Kill Team, "I purchased insurance on my vessel from the House. It was a mistake," he mutters angrily.
"You locked us in the hold for the journey, you refuse to take our calls, and you consort with chaos-touched xenos," Brynjol yells, "Give me one reason, ANY reason, why I shouldn't turn you into a puddle on the floor?"
"This is beyond treason, fleshbag," Cortain sputters, "THIS IS HERESY."
"First of all, they're not chaos touched," the captain says, "Otherwise I wouldn't have purchased a policy from them. You will most likely meet them soon enough as well, they have a hand in everything."
"What is this 'House' everyone keeps mentioning?" Cyril asks.
"It's...true," coughs Genericus, "The House...of Korst'la. They're tau and dark eldar. My grandfather...told me stories."

"Let him speak, cousins. The xenos' armour was a different colour..." Cyril notices, "They likely have some factional infighting, just as humans do."
The Kill Team consider all that they know of Inquisitors. There are some Inquisitors and Rogue Traders out there who hire and use Xenos - Radicals.
"In other words, the Inquisition keeps the filth around to patch up their inneficiencies with a lesser cancer?" Nestor asks.
"Got it in one," the Captain replies, "The Inquisition's pet tau is very rich. I don't know what their case is, but I do know that the Inquisition gave us this mandate, the House financed it, and the Lords of Iniega supplied it."

There is quiet for a good long while.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:23:15 No.41211255 Report

Quoted By:

The captain stares at the Kill Team. "Well, seeing as how you DID save my ship, I suppose you have my thanks. You're different than the others."
"We are not like the Panthers, Captain," Cyril implores, "Astartes are more than warriors. We are... MEANT to be the finest, most disciplined warriors the galaxy has ever known."
"I suppose you've proved that today," the captain says, "I'll finish my mission, I'll get you to Tiji."
The captain turns back to his bridge, "You have free reign of the vessel as you see fit.."

Nestor, however, is still furious.
"I'm tempted to return to my Chapter and let this Sector stew in its own juices... Let the Xenos they love more than the Emperor save them," Nestor mutters.
"Hold, Nestor. Would you forsake your oath to the Deathwatch so casually?" Cyril asks.
"No Son of the Lion works with Xenos, or those who consort with Xenos," Nestor declares, "This oath was rendered invalid."
"And how do you propose to return?" Cyril points out, "This ship made the voyage specifically to transport us."
"Don't worry, you'll meet the Lord Inquisitor and the others once I bring you to Catalyst Station," the captain explains, "then...my job is done.
"Let us return to the hold, brothers," Cyril tries to assuage everyone. "The Inquisition will brief us in full soon enough, and then we will have our answers."
"I pray that he come soon," Cortain replies, "Before I remember the follies of the Damocles Crusade."

The Kill Team leave the bridge, the officer's quarters prepared for them.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:24:21 No.41211281 Report

Quoted By:

"For now I will stay.. if nothing else because the Tarot indicates no recourse from this pathetic rescue of a heretical sector of undigested grox abortions," Nestor growls.
"If you truly wish to flee, then I shall not stop you," Cyril concedes, "But you may as well serve the Emperor alongside us until an opportunity presents itself."
Brynjol takes a deep breath, "I will stay, if only to take a look at this Inquisitor and judge his malfeasance for myself..."

"Flee he says..." Nestor spits, "Enjoy the ingratitude of the Xenos lovers as you shed blood, I for one will do nothing less and nothing more than expected in battle."
"I need no gratitude. I serve the Emperor and none other," Cyril declares, "We have our orders, but cannot properly question them until we meet their source."
"I, for one, support this notion," Cortain sighs, "Until I can further assess the situation, I too hold reservations on consorting with such a recent foe."

The Kill Team decide that it has been a day extended far too long.

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Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:26:17 No.41211316 Report

Quoted By:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KY4a4xyxh_Y

"I will retreat to my .. room for now," Nestor finally says, "Study and recovery rites are in order."
"If you do decide to leave, Nestor..." Cortain whispers, "At least inform us so."
Nestor doesn't seem to pay much attention, until Brynjol catches his arm.
"Let us know if we're going to be going into battle a man short, Librarian..." he states with concern.
"Unhand me," Nestor demands, "Now."
The Space Wolf and the Guardian of the Covenant stare each other down.
"Do you so lightly tread on your oaths to the Deathwatch and your brothers?" Brynjol asks.
"The 'filthy witch' does as the 'filthy witch' is," Nestor quips.
Brynjol lets go, turning his lip up.
"I expected better of you," Brynjol sighs, "That was bloody childish."

Cyril breaks off from the rest, to return to his haunt in the cargo hold. Removing his helmet to let his long, ragged chest-length hair flow, he inspects the damage to his armor and his wounds, as a number of female crew swoon hover him. Reaching the comfort of his box, he takes a moment to put everything together. He understands why the crew was so on edge - it was unlikely that a team of Space Marines would have accepted their position had they found out how radical the situation was. To unknowingly accept the aid of Xenos could cost the crewmen their lives if the Astartes found out. Since the crewmen were also advised that if they failed, they would be killed, this left them in a catch-22 from which they could see no positive alternative. Letting the cold air calm him down, Cyril can only hope that everyone else can reign in their emotions before arrival.

After a month, the chartist vessel comes into view of a green garden world. Out the port, however, can be seen a station, floating above. Two rings, connected by long paths.

Catalyst Station, Headquarters of the Tiji Sector Inquisitional Conclaves, lies ahead.

View Same Google iqdb SauceNAO Trace Shrug Black Dude.gif, 1MiB, 291x260

Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:28:27 No.41211358 Report

Quoted By:

Another good episode. Things are beginning to heat up for everyone, as they enter into the service of a known radical sector. Seeing their reactions (all IC, mind you) was quite funny. Things only get harder from here, but you ain't seen nothing yet. The best is yet to come.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:32:23 No.41211442 Report

Quoted By:

>>41210880
>"My great grandfather saw some once. His name was Jim. He used to be an Inquisitorial Scion, until he had a nervous breakdown and mistook an honored member of the Deathwatch for an ork."

Wait a second. It's those two stormtroopers from Deffwotch!

View Same Google iqdb SauceNAO Trace happy little clouds.jpg, 25KiB, 500x375

Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 02:52:40 No.41211847 Report

Quoted By: >>41220762

>>41210934
>>41210581

I'll have more archives next week. It's definitely good times.

Nestor Tue 14 Jul 2015 03:22:57 No.41212460 Report

Quoted By: >>41212769

I must say, there was quite a bit of adaptation in parts from the original log.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 03:39:24 No.41212769 Report

Quoted By: >>41212799 >>41212937

>>41212460

In what way?

Brynjol Tue 14 Jul 2015 03:41:14 No.41212799 Report

Quoted By: >>41212842 >>41212862 >>41218520

>>41212769
A few minor inaccuracies; not sure if they were down to artistic license or misleading of the logs. For example, aboard the ship it was I who won the feat of strength to force open the bulkhead, and Cyril/Cortain who assisted.
But maybe shas just wanted to put the limelight on the other guys a bit; I am stealing the show at the moment with my glorious yiffing.

You'll see what I mean when the next logs come out :^)

Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 03:43:59 No.41212842 Report

Quoted By:

>>41212799

Wait, really? Might just be a minor typo. Lemme go back and fix it up.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 03:45:30 No.41212862 Report

Quoted By: >>41212937

>>41212799

Oh. But the gist of things is the same?

Cortain Tue 14 Jul 2015 03:49:04 No.41212937 Report

Quoted By: >>41213110 >>41213438

>>41212769
Aside from the stuff these guys mentioned, there's also one matter which I'm kinda disappointed didn't get more coverage:

The Grenades on the Titan fight.

Seriously, Bryn had rolled like 4-5 Righteous Furies just to wreck that one knee, and he pulled some massive pain.

It still survived, and Bryn got mad salty on that.

Also, I'm still trying to cope with the part where I'm the asshat who kill-stole.

>>41212862
More or less. Details got trimmed though.

View Same Google iqdb SauceNAO Trace Look it's simple math.jpg, 868KiB, 1680x1050

Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 03:57:14 No.41213110 Report

Quoted By: >>41213250

>>41212937
>The Grenades on the Titan fight.

Now THAT was a mistake on my part for not catching a misconception and not being clear.

Basically what happened was Brynjol tossed everybody's grenades at the joint. I went to my fallback from the last time people tried doing that - base damage of the grenade, +1d10 per degree of success combined together. Should have been about 6d10+4 Pen 6 in the end (3d10+4 base and an extra 3d10). What ended up happening was brynjol rolled the two attacks separately, and each separate attack furied because I wasn't clear. This caused an inflated number that I didn't catch until I was reading the logs the next day.

I didn't want to go into full detail - it's a storytime, not math camp, so I just smoothed things over.

Cyril Tue 14 Jul 2015 04:04:19 No.41213250 Report

Quoted By:

>>41213110
Huh, that explains it. Yeah, with so many furies at least a few of us expected the leg to come clean off. With damage rolled separately it added up to something like half a Warhound's hull points on one hit. After soak.
Saint Grendel smiled on those dice, but Zuvassin always gets his way in the end.

>select all food
What the fuck do you mean puppies don't count?

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 04:13:36 No.41213438 Report

Quoted By: >>41213596 >>41213846

>>41212937

That's good. I still wish I could have gotten in.

Cyril Tue 14 Jul 2015 04:22:02 No.41213596 Report

Quoted By: >>41214116

>>41213438
What did you make?
I almost wish we'd gone with an all-Librarian Squad after all; perils and laughs everywhere

I'm definitely holding on to the Blood Jags libby I made, I spent months on that son of a bitch's backstory

Cortain Tue 14 Jul 2015 04:34:18 No.41213846 Report

Quoted By: >>41214116 >>41214309 >>41218813

>>41213438
I'm also curious.

About your dude and also what compelled everyone to push libbies. I mean, were the mindbullets that compelling?

Just find it kinda weird how I was the only dude who picked something other than a libby.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 04:49:18 No.41214116 Report

Quoted By: >>41214615

>>41213596
>>41213846

I made a Librarian too. Wanted to rock aliens with a force weapon. I didn't think it would be such a popular class.

Oh well, at least I can live vicariously through you guys.

Cyril Tue 14 Jul 2015 05:01:02 No.41214309 Report

Quoted By:

>>41213846
Well, a couple months after Excelsus finished, I found out my shiny new job would leave me free during Shas' game time, and started rolling up Spess Marines. I decided I wanted to make a Blood Jaguar, and Librarian seemed like the most fun for playing one, getting into the heart of their hyperreligious jungle brutality and being one of the two dominantly choppy classes at a glance. After that I got progressively more invested in Nayhúte as I expanded his backstory, from his childhood as the son of a butcher in the Hive to his failures and victories as an initiate to his career as a full Marine and eventual Librarian before being seconded to the Deathwatch after rallying a strike force in a ridiculous feat of choppy that stopped seeming so silly after the Republican Commandos killed a goddamn Feral Warhound.
I didn't flesh out the other ~2 dozen characters I made nearly as much, so he was my obvious first pick, but since a Devastator seemed more called for I went with Ice Wraiths for cryoguns and then ended up making Cyril a Tac instead. If I'd planned on a Tactical I would've made a Star Kraken, but I'm pretty happy with Cyril and the team.

As for the others, Nestor's a fucking nerd and Bryn is kinda shamanistic even as an Assault Marine, so I think he had a similar idea to mine with exploring a savage chapter's spiritual side.

Cyril Tue 14 Jul 2015 05:22:00 No.41214615 Report

Quoted By:

>>41214116
What chapter, anyway?

I swear, someday I'll play a character who isn't a cannibal.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 09:24:18 No.41217445 Report

Quoted By: >>41218461

Nothing like a Space Marine + Psyker for a combo of awesome-sauce. My first Speez Maroon was a Libby in an Ascension campaign.

Once I heard about the high proportion of Libbies applying, I rolled a stabby BA Sanguinary Priest "Asterius" for mine. I'm still pretty jelly I didn't make the cut, but it's nice to see the game is going well.

(I shouldn't bitch too much, at least my monthly DH2 game is picking back up.)

Nestor Tue 14 Jul 2015 11:21:06 No.41218461 Report

Quoted By: >>41225624

>>41217445
Lucky you. Every time I suggest playing a Spehss Maroon to a higher lever DH/RT group I get shot down with all the merciless firing rate of a Storm Twin-Linked weapon.

View Same Google iqdb SauceNAO Trace duel.gif, 496KiB, 500x260

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 11:28:39 No.41218520 Report

Quoted By: >>41220948

>>41212799
>glorious yiffing

Before we get to that, there is one thing we must go over first...

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 12:03:37 No.41218813 Report

Quoted By:

>>41213846
I had a SW tac, was not selected though, such is life

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 12:07:59 No.41218858 Report

Quoted By: >>41219418 >>41219923

No exploding heretics of the Uredius sector?

Nestor Tue 14 Jul 2015 13:22:41 No.41219418 Report

Quoted By: >>41220000

>>41218858
Does battle cannon friendly pie plating count?

Cortain Tue 14 Jul 2015 14:27:23 No.41219923 Report

Quoted By: >>41220000

>>41218858
That would assume they ever got close enough to prep.

Considering how much of a squash the first mission was, let's say they never really got an upper hand until the titan.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 14:36:14 No.41220000 Report

Quoted By: >>41221351

>>41219418
>>41219923
I mean, considering what is mined there, you'd thing some of them would explode.

Mirage Tue 14 Jul 2015 14:41:21 No.41220041 Report

Quoted By: >>41220762

When's the next one coming through Shas

Or do you have a twitter feed for it?

Cyril Tue 14 Jul 2015 15:55:25 No.41220762 Report

Quoted By: >>41220824

>>41220041
See >>41211847

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 16:00:00 No.41220824 Report

Quoted By:

>>41220762
Thanks for sharing. I enjoy these stories.

Brynjol Tue 14 Jul 2015 16:11:04 No.41220948 Report

Quoted By:

>>41218520
yes, I was upset about that...
but then again I think the following session made up for it.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 16:11:06 No.41220949 Report

Quoted By:

>>41210403
>Will it Blend
literally lol'd. thank you.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 16:45:07 No.41221351 Report

Quoted By: >>41221424 >>41225272

>>41220000
Wait, Uredius Sector is an actual thing?
>reads archives
...suddenly I'm even more glad we Jenkins'd the tonks instead of hugging the cover.

View Same Google iqdb SauceNAO Trace Torgue face when.jpg, 66KiB, 634x342

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 16:50:36 No.41221424 Report

Quoted By: >>41225272

>>41221351
Yeah, the sector Mr. Torgue would be proud of.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 19:08:35 No.41223569 Report

Quoted By: >>41223944

>>41211136
Kinda wish I'd failed that Toughness test against the hexrifle after all, so I could get a sweet augmentic arm instead. Bastard haemonculus only managed to knock off about half my wounds with that hit, but charging in and BLAMming him with Genericus' help would have been even more badass with only one arm.

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 19:31:00 No.41223944 Report

Quoted By: >>41227533

>>41223569
All y'all need to respect what the Emprah gave you.

Shas'o R'myr !!J5+vjygjQuK Tue 14 Jul 2015 20:59:00 No.41225272 Report

Quoted By:

>>41221351
>>41221424

Yeah, the Uredius sector is another /tg/ sector, one where everything explodes when it dies, and sometimes when it lives too, thanks to the mined Uredium. I tried to vary the words though, so that it wasn't hundreds of lines of "he exploded and he exploded and..."

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 21:16:51 No.41225624 Report

Quoted By:

>>41218461
It was actually a mixed group, we had a Blood Angel TacMarine, I was the Subjugators Libby, & a holocaust-flingin pyromancer that did the heavy lifting, plus some other Ascended acolytes tagging along.

Fav moment of the campaign was when Andreas D'Arquebus leaped up at the hovering Arch-heretic/sorcerer & bisected him with his force sword, speed-lines & all.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eB82pF_64mw

Anonymous Tue 14 Jul 2015 22:55:24 No.41227533 Report

Quoted By: >>41228948 >>41230811

>>41223944
>Ice Wraith
Scions of Mars demeanor, friend. Besides, decent tech comes from Emps too, if you trace it back far enough.

Cortain Wed 15 Jul 2015 00:19:39 No.41228948 Report

Quoted By: >>41230811

>>41227533
Nestor's a Guardian of the Covenant. They get Infused Knowledge and DA advances.

Cyril's got the Scions of Mars table.

Cyril Wed 15 Jul 2015 02:11:04 No.41230811 Report

Quoted By:

>>41228948
That >>41227533 was me. Hopping from device to device and thread to thread plays hell with namefaggotry.
And Scions of Mars is just a demeanor, though I do have the thematically parallel Honour Thy Wargear table.

I'd like to know why captcha keeps putting infant mammals into "select all food" lineups.

Anonymous Wed 15 Jul 2015 05:39:39 No.41234028 Report

Quoted By:

>reading more about the Uredius sector and why it's so infested with renegade uprisings
Shit, the nameless mooks we blended in ep1 probably had their own theme song. https://youtu.be/U0RtbfPAJS0

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