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In the Lion's Name (ASTARTES NEOPHYTE RP, IC THREAD)

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by Vlayden, May 8, 2017.

  1. Akerath Vlayden Well-Known Member

    @Casavay @Jammysod @TuskatheDaemonKilla @Taec @High_Adept_Zeth @BlackNecron @Vulpas @bossaroo



    They shall be my Finest Warriors


    The many weeks of searching had finally come to an end, many children and young volunteers having been gathered. The Adeptus Astartes had taken those deemed compatible, many worlds having heartfelt goodbyes with families as the Knights of the Stars took young men from the wilds, as mighty Space Marines were given their tithe amongst the Nobility of Civilised worlds, as they searched through Hive Worlds for those hardened and worthy of the mantle.
    Those weeks were isolated and unnerving, the neophytes that were taken all waiting quietly upon the mighty Gothic ships in the Stars. Many in fact, not knowing at all that they were not the only one until the beginning days of their Initiation; much hypno-therapy and indoctrination sealing these boys' loyalty as they were transformed not into Men, but into Astartes.


    These Men who have given of themselves unto me


    The surgeries taken upon them were long and difficult processes, with not a drop of anesthetics to dull the agony that was placed upon them. Organs slowly planted one by one, attached through synthetic tissue and given chemical treatments.
    The screams of echoed through the rooms every phase, the weak young men being carried to their bland, identical and empty rooms each time. A quick wipe and wash of the tools and surgical table, before the next one was brought in.


    In Great Armour, I shall clad them


    Through the years, they were taught of the equipment that they shall learn to use, and how to maintain. Of course, such things were kept minimal as the Neophytes learned on how the Power Armour was maintained; while not something they shall wear, they were to still be taught of its functions.
    Many then went on to learn of the Holy Armour that they may on day learn to pilot, ranging from the driving of a simple Rhino, up to the insides of a beloved Land Raider or the ancient Thunderhawk, down again to the fast Land Speeders and bikes.
    All the while, since the beginning of such initiations and surgeries, the Neophytes gained large feasts - all with growth hormones within to help turn them to more than what any mortal could see as possible.

    and with Mighty Weapons they shall be armed


    Next came the topic of weapons - as the surgeries continued, more of their Gene-seed being implanted into the young men, they were taught of the Holy weapons that they were to use to destroy the enemy - ranging from the Chainsword and how to maintain it, to the shotguns that they may choose from at the beginning of their career, to the Holy Boltgun and the litanies required through its maintenance.
    Many other weapons were spoken of as well, such as the righteous Flamer or the howling Meltagun - though the more temperamental of weapons such as the ancient and rarely understood Plasma, were left untouched - many learning quickly that it was a weapon that only the experienced and brave, shall use.


    They shall have such tactics, strategies, and machines that no foe can best them in battle

    The Neophytes were then soon taught combat styles, whether working as pairs in a firefight or the close combat necessities that shall haunt them should they be caught unawares by a foul Greenskin, the young Astartes were once more brought closer to the guardians of the Imperium that they are destined to be. Many learning of the Xenos that shall haunt them ranging from the Orks - and the warnings of never underestimating such brutes - to the Eldar and their traitorous scheming ways, to the Tyranids and the risks of fighting such gargantuan hordes without proper planning.


    They are my Bulwark against Terror

    The powers of Chaos were also taught to them; and while not in detail, these neophytes were taught of the Traitors, and told to remember their equipment by heart; for they know now that it was not only their equipment, but that of the Traitor Marines. While the subjects of the Dark Gods themselves - and the mutated daemonspawn that they create, and anything more detailed - was not taught, the men knew that there was such things that they must learn by themselves, through the thick of battle. Or things that should never be known.


    They are the Defenders of Humanity

    Many times the neophytes were brought out within their Carapace armour and brought upon patrols within the cities they are to protect; the Fortress-Monastery that they reside within a part of a gargantuan mountain. Its holy statues that held its ancestors, the Dark Angels, in gleaming heroic poses with their blades in hand, standing guard as the true Space Marines did at their feet.
    They were taught of the Imperium as a whole and its occupants. The Astra Militarum, the Imperial Navy; these were the things one should know, for the recruits would perhaps, realistically, only one in a hundred be worthy and claim any position of power within the Chapter, but they should know these things for the sake of knowing their burden.
    These young men were chosen to protect the Imperium, and many would die doing so; as was their duty. They are to safeguard its citizens, fight alongside its Guardsmen, and battle within its Navy.
    Their walks through the city streets had taught them much without saying anything; merely the stares of the men and women was enough to show how alienated they were, how in awe the average citizen is; such large, heroic men that set their life on the line on a daily basis for them. To see how children looked to them as heroes, how some men feared them for their scale, how some women were shocked to see how 'human' they were - to see the PDF's faces shining a bit brighter knowing they were not alone in the planet's defense.


    These are my Space Marines

    The final surgery to place the Black Carapace was upon them now at the end of their training as neophytes. As the black, plastic-like gene-seed was placed under their skin and its purpose was taught - to truly bind them into being one with their holy Powered Armour, once they earned it - the agony coursing through their nerves, the men were chosen into squads.
    Of the four hundred and sixty three that had been chosen, just under half had survived and proven their worth.

    The likes of Barnabus, Caelius, Andariel, Garius, Mithras, Sammuel Kyrris and Harris would perhaps never be seen by the galaxy; and it was their chance now to prove whether that is for the better, or the worse.


    And They Shall Know No Fear

    The following day after the surgeries, the eight neophytes were given a shared room. It wasn't much - ten beds, each with their own small desk and empty chest at the foot of the beds.
    Many could generally presume that it was now early morning as it always was; and even if they did not wish it, despite the pains of the surgery, they would have to get up soon enough and come to another meeting or training exercise.


    BANG, BANG BANG BANG
    A heavy knock at the thick door was heard, and in came one of the Astartes; judging from his flowing beige robes, the gleaming power sword maglocked to his belt and the combi-weapon behind his back, it was safe to presume that this was the 'Sergeant' they were ordered to wait for.
    Sergeant Adrian

    His face looked quite unique, if anything, compared to most other Astartes - a lighter skin than most with a heavy amount of burns over the left side of his jawline and a mangled scar that came across his forehead and the bridge of his nose. His straight, coal-black hair ran down to his shoulders.
    The left pauldron was far more stylized, having instead of the 'Heralds of Perdition' insignia of a flaming glass with blades sticking through it, having the head of an eagle masterfully crafted into it. In his hand he held his helmet that looked surprisingly akin to that of the relic MK III 'Iron' Armour.

    "Greetings Third Squad, I am your sergeant. Sergeant Adrian Victus. How's your shooting arms? Because you're already going to go on a mission, 'n you were chosen to be on the third wave. If there's any questions from you children, now's the time."
  2. Victus Jammysod Well-Known Member

    Barnabus had already been awake for over an hour by the time Adrian came knocking. He hadn't really done anything in particular aside from stare at the ceiling, trying to remember what home was like. What little he could still recall was somewhat blurred, it had just been such a long time. Obviously he still had rather vivid memories of his brother Sammuel but he was in the very same room after all. There was a good amount of time where Barnabus found himself lost in thought regarding the past he was trying hard to remember, leaving him largely oblivious to those around him.

    Adrian's heavy knocking soon put an end to that as Barnabus was pulled back to reality and he was already up and standing beside his bed by the time Adrian came into the room. He wondered for a moment how he could have got that scarring on his face and he considered just asking for a moment before deciding against what suddenly seemed like a rather foolish and inappropriate line of questioning, especially after Adrian brought up the fact they were already going on a mission. At least he had the opportunity to ask a sensible question before they left. Barnabus raised his hand slightly to get the sergeant's attention, not realising his arm still ached somewhat until he did it.

    "Greetings, Sergeant, I suppose it wouldn't be too early to ask what exactly we're supposed to be doing, would it?"
  3. Taec Taec Arkhona Vanguard

    Sammuel awoke to the both the sound of the knocking, and the sergeants voice. Immediately, the pain from the surgeries of the previous day hit him. He let out a quiet groan, before raising himself from the bed. As he got out of the bed, he looked over to his brother, who was already attentive and asking a question. Although little of his previous life remained clear, his recollection of his brother still remained. He smiled breifly, before turning to face the sergeant, and giving a slight bow, as to not interrupt his brothers question.

    The knowledge that they were already going on a mission was a pleasing thought. A chance to act in the service of the emperor, and to bring his light upon the enemies of mankind. Sammuel had no questions to ask, and just stood ready for the orders to be delivered, whilst also trying to push the pain from his mind.
  4. Garius was dreaming of something, what exactly it was he couldn't make out as he grasped as straws. The ground was green and sky blue but it was all fuzzy and he couldn't see anything besides the colors. So strange and yet it felt familiar as if it he were looking at picture he has seen before. His dream was interupted by four loud knocks that made his eyelids open as fast as possible. He practically jumped out of bed forgetting about the pains he felt from the previous day's surgeries. His feet hit the cold floor as his limbs and surgery scars ached as he nearly fell over. But he steadied himself and stood near his bed as the Sergeant entered the room gritting his teeth underneath his lips as he did his best to keep steady despite the pain.

    Upon hearing they would be sent on their first mission he barely contained his excitement. Finally a chance to serve the Emperor and use the skills they have been trained in! He again did his best to not break his respectful posture to their Sergeant that had been assigned to lead their squad. The pain faded to the back of his mind as he tried to think of a question, he had to make a good impression on their Sergeant after all. Asking an unnecessary question could stain his reputation or annoy their elder brother. "Greetings Sergeant, if I may ask. Which of the enemies of man will we be facing during our mission?" He hoped not only that this question was prudent but also really wanted to know as well.
  5. Akerath Vlayden Well-Known Member

    @Jammysod @TuskatheDaemonKilla

    "Shooting Xenos, Neophytes. Shooting Xenos." Was the very blunt response from Adrian. "As luck would have it, an ork waaagh is on the way to a nearby sector; we are not one of the closer brethren who can respond, however we are the ones who are capable of doing so the quickest."
    "While the tactics that we'll be using are unknown to me currently, what I do know is that our squadron will essentially be kept in a far less important role, and we will stay on the defense. I know that your training has told you that we are to act as fast attackers, however there was a reason you saw us with a fair amount of heavy armour, and heavy weapons; we frown upon those unprepared, and using our typical strategies against orks would only overwhelm us unless we manage to find a quick way to the Warboss."


    "Your duties will not be on this important mission; that will call to the Deathwing, who will take the fight to him as he so desires. Our duty will be defending Bastion Omega; it is an area near the southern barracks and evacuation centre, and is fairly defended. You will, along with Eighth company, be set to defending it against the ork incursion."

    The Sergeant took a few moments to gauge their reactions, before starting up again. "I know that this is your first engagement, and it is a glorious privilege to be able to fight in the name of the Lion and the Imperium so soon; but I warn you, do not seek out the Nobz. These are as the manuals have stated, much larger orks that equal us space marines in height, or are taller. Their strength is far more than you are capable of dealing with, and they have more intelligence than the typical greenskin to have survived long enough to get to such a size. Leave this to your more experienced Brethren, and focus upon the lesser enemies. You will do fine, if we do this by the book."
  6. High Adept Zeth High_Adept_Zeth Arkhona Vanguard

    Much like Barnabus, Andariel was already awake several hours before Sergeant Adrian walked in. He was simply too enthusiastic to sleep, especially with the radical changes his mind and body underwent to. Most exciting of all, were the long sessions in the Hypnomat, a device Apotecharies said will help him meditate and awake his latent mental powers.

    Since then, so much has changed. His previous life of grief and toil blurred away, and he was glad for it. Only that stood before him now, was his service to the God-Emperor. What man would not be thrilled at the opportunity? To make a difference, to offer his life to the Golden Throne, both in His name and in the name of all of those who were left behind. For a moment the picture of his parents flashed before his eyes, as he left them in the half-sunked Hive Spire that he struggled to maintain his whole life. Sorrow, but also steely pride was evident in their eyes. What about his friends? Did the made it onto the transport? Will they pass the Initiation? Will i see them in the cold halls, swallowen and tall in their new bodies? Will they reckognize me?
    With a shake of his head he banished these parley thoughts. If they meet then it was ordained to be so. If they dont - they failed.

    And failure was not an alternative. Besides, he got not only friends now, but brothers. Blood brothers!

    As he pushed himself from the floor, vaguely aware of the number of pushups he did without even a breath or concious thought wasted, he vowed to one day return to his world and show them how he succeeded, how he is also one of the Angels of Death. Well almost.

    One final step remained and he will now fail. Not at the last obstacle, no matter what it takes.

    As Sergeant Adriel came in, respendant in his power-armor, Andariel pushed himself from the floor, from the small puddle of sweat he was already forming beneath him, and standing at attention next to Garius. With his newfound powers of both smell and hear, the grinding of his brother`s teeth, was very audible and he wondered what would be the cause for such distraction.

    "How's your shooting arms? Because you're already going to go on a mission, 'n you were chosen to be on the third wave."

    These words washed over him in a cold, stoic energy, instantly drying glistening sweat from his abnormal, titanic body, hammering his passionate enthusiasm and eagerness unto the anvil of duty.

    This is what he was been waiting for. A true test of his newfound abilities.
  7. Garius nodded enthusiastically at the Sergeant's answer both proud he asked a good question and that it was actually answered. He fought the coming smile on his face when he learned of their first battle being against the Greenskins. Such a brutal and fascinating scourge on the galaxy to meet head to head on the battlefield, creatures that lived for war and would likely not retreat. They will give an excellent first real opponent to test his mettle against in true war. In fact the greenskins was what he had prayed for and the Emperor had provided which made him all the more excited. He will prove himself worthy of being the Emperor's chosen in the eyes of his elder brothers he was sure of it.
  8. Victus Jammysod Well-Known Member

    The answer Barnabus got to his question was somehow not what he expected. It seemed too simple an objective at face value but perhaps the potential finer details and developments of the mission would be made clear when they actually got onto the battlefield.

    He spent a brief moment in silence, thinking back to what he had learned of the greenskins through studying during his time with the chapter. They were supposed to be almost universally hardy beasts, with grievous injury and even loss of limb often troubling them little as they charge headlong into battle wielding ramshackle but surprisingly effective equipment. The idea of seeing such creatures and being able to observe them personally rather than merely read about them did actually excite Barnabus a little before he came out with his second question. "Very well, and how will we be getting there? Gunships? Rhinos?.. maybe even a Drop-Pod?"
  9. Taec Taec Arkhona Vanguard

    Sammuel listened to the Sergeant closely, and took on his advice on larger orks. There would be no point in glory seeking. It would just be a fatal act. "When will we deploy, sergeant?" He asked enthusiastically. He was eager to bring the fury of the emperor into battle for the first time, not to mention his improved body. The fort could not fall with the might of the space marines guarding it. No Xenos could be allowed to defile anything in service to the emperor. They will be purged in His name.
  10. BlackNecron BlackNecron Arkhona Vanguard

    When Kyrris awakened, it was not the ringing of bells, not the chanting choirs of pilgrims, and certainly not his time for morning prayer that tore him from his sleep.
    It was pain.

    There he was, the echoes of pain still cursing through his body, lying on his bed. His eyes closed, he felt it, memories of the purification, stripping him down to his bones, his very core, changing him, rebuilding him. The words of the chaplain above him, a prayer of hope, of ascendance, of Initiation.

    This pain was nothing, merely an aftershock. A reminder. Because through this pain, he felt......power. His body felt strong, stronger than ever before, his mind clear. For the first time in his life, he decided not to begin his day with the usual morning prayer, or what he still remembered of it. He was no longer a simple human, no, he would be a son of the God-Emperor, among brothers, kin, Posthumans. He would not pray as a child, but as an astartes!
    So he chanted one of the few rituals they had been thaught, the oath of intolerance, inside his mind.

    When the sergeant entered the room, Kyrris had nearly finished. After one moment, Kyrris stood up swiftly. He noticed that his brothers awakened too. Good. Following his new teachings, Kyrris saluted the sergeant with the Aquilla. Only when all questions had been answered, he spoke himself:

    "We are ready to serve. Command us, Brother Sergeant."

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