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Night Falls - A Night Lords 30k roleplay

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by Jorimel, Nov 12, 2018.

  1. Fox Vulpas Well-Known Member

    Von had been silent as his brother secured the vault and entered he was one of the last in only bolt pistol and combat knife in hand, A auspex in hand as he watched and listen to the mortals interrogation looking to the old disk of data Tildan picked up a pair. "These data transmission's getting them to the master of signals may give us a edge in finding these cretures then uprouting them out." Von tildan mentioned looking to there claws leader. " Other wise The map maybe usefull in getting around agreed with our brothers though in having this man stay here for pick up." Von tildan spoke looking to strah
  2. Saraph Midas Casavay Well-Known Member

    "Daril", Nyktride sighed, "Your name is Daril, right? Daril." Kersaara raised her hands in a placative gesture, fearlessly striding closer to the man. "I have an interest in fellow humans surviving so keen it could cut adamantium", she explained. Then, the gaunt musician took a final step forward, turning her side to him and tossing one arm around his shoulders as the other swept over the bored and disinterested class of ultra-lethal psychopathic schoolchildren now in front of her. "They don't. Now, don't panic, because they're ultimately agents of the benevolent Imperium, but let's say theirs is a horrid bedside manner-" She leaned in to whisper: "I bet at least one of them is considering making a rug out of you", knowing fully well that the Astartes would hear her.

    Straightening herself and speaking normally once more, Kersaara then nodded towards the closest door, looking to illustrate her intentions, not necessarily give directions. "Knowing that these men will be watching over us, how about you show me those cogitators I'm sure you have proficiency with and that are very likely state-of-the-art?"
  3. Kal Kalle Arkhona Vanguard

    Tarron Sarcarin spun his combat knife, then holstered it in its sheath. The elder Claw member stood in silent vigil over the Remembrancer and the engineer, arms crossed over his chest in a reserved, statue-like pose. Within the confine of his helm, the Butcher smiled to himself. The Remembrancer knew how to inspire fear, much like the Astartes she served.
  4. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Engineering Terror

    Nyktride took a step or two forward with swift action of a stooping condor, wrapping the frightened engineer in the embrace of her wings. Not so much the comforting act of a nanny, but distant enough from the murderous stares of the majority of the Astartes that she looked a very pleasant prospect. Daril nodded, looking a little less fearful but a bit more stunned herbivore in the headlights.

    "Daril, yes, ma'am," he said, nodding. He glanced up at a couple of the midnight-clad murderers and stepped back into the chamber, always careful to keep his hands where they could be seen. Certainly nowhere inappropriate on the distinguished mamzel. He made a copy of the transmissions on a kind of crude data slate - it should work, though; no doubt the cogboys would enjoy the small challenge in partially compatible formats. He printed off a map of the area too, presenting it to her held together from tape and multiple sheets of paper, a crude composite but workable. So long as he focussed on the woman, his hands didn't shake.

    "I'm not a - I don't even know what an Orkoid is," he said, as he worked. "I'm Human, like you." He only meant Kersaara, that much was obvious, and not only that - he'd apparently decided that she was their leader. Apparently logic dictated that as the only mortal-seeming one among them, she must be in charge to have survived the gamut of bladed posturing and unspoken and spoken threats. At least he seemed free of the poor man's curse of superstition. "I'll show you everything you need to know," he said. Work can concentrate the mind wonderfully, almost as much as death.

    Kar Jeresh watched with folded arms and the barest hint of humour. The little ones worked like busy bees with the right hand on the blade; so it was and so it would ever be. He nodded to Strah. "Solid slug weaponry and crude mass tactics. I can see why you thought of Orks. Still, maybe they are just the scouts, eh? Something like the Guard regiments." The Sergeant didn't rate the Imperial infantrymen that highly, but he knew the uses of ground troops. "I'll radio the location to Command and they can decide what to do with it - my guess is that they will at least want to preserve the infrastructure for faster Compliance." He had a certain way of pronouncing that capital C. "Be on his way or stay here, I doubt he'll feature much in our future plans once the good lady is finished." The underscoring note of menace was more habitual than anything else. Jeresh was growing bored.

    Skell and two of the others refuelled the transits they'd used to come up to the mountain and made sure everything was ready for the journey down. So long as they were here, Kar Raxus took a couple of blood samples from an unresisting Daril and took a moment more to look over the squad, patching here, fixing there. A last sweep of the complex, a little more creative skinning to pass the time and the convoy was on its way again. Someone had mounted the whole hide of a Saurian on the front of the lead vehicle, head and hands intact, and its rather macabre yet jaunty form graced the bonnet with a funereal humour.

    Daril Manarac, surrounded by dead Saurians and with a clipboard still in one hand, stood by the door to watch them go for a short moment before hurrying back inside before someone gifted him a literal parting shot. He managed a tiny wave to the Remembrancer, whom he'd insisted on giving a cushion from the office to sit on and a couple of the pods of caffeinated beverage. It was better than what the Remembrancer corps provided as field rations. If nothing else, she could barter it to some desperate recaf fiend. Everyone else had a selection of trophies and skulls, while the magnificent pelt of the carnodon was spread out on the roof of the second vehicle, neatly flensed and treated with its own brain like a crag cat. Still, the feeling was less road trip and more return to enemy territory.

    Groundwork - intermission

    The next day was a simple journey, which was not guaranteed to work well with Astartes' combat-ready doctrines. Boredom was technically no concern to a Space Marine, but it wasn't what they were bred for. Peace was deadly; serenity should be that of a cooling corpse, not a stately morning. Yet it was with this at their backs that the Claw rode into the next tangled junction of roads outside the regional capital, stopping under a bridge to check for local vox traffic and grant the Mamzel a comfort break. Whether she needed one or not.

    Kar Jeresh - helmet off and dark hair tied back in a severe queue tucked into the back of his armour - sauntered back out of the darkness from under a support pillar with the smug air of a man bearing news that amused him.

    "Raxus. Got a special dispensation for you from Command," he said, without preamble. "Seems your work has reached higher ears than mine and you'll be sharing your medical insights back at base. Make sure you've got a good selection of samples and get ready. Leave the carnodon," he said, with a gesture. "I think someone might be upset if you took that."

    "The rest of you look sharp, we will be getting a new medic as a field drop along with an exchange of maps and intel. Looks like our little friend may have given us something useful after all. We advance on the capital at first twilight. Those of you who want sleep, get some now. I want two men on watch at all times ..." familiar fieldcraft fell into place as he turned to the Remembrancer, only to see Sarcarin standing over her as usual, or so Jeresh imagined. He frowned.

    "Mamzel Kersaara, you should be able to stretch out in the front seat there if you want to get some rest," he said, a trifle softer than the orders. "It's no Thunderhawk, but it's what we have."

    "About that," his voice rose again, drawing the attention of the assembled troops. "We are to rendezvous with 5th, 10th and 17th Claws at the heart of this city and consolidate our forces for a push on the capital. There is the possibility," his lip twitched a little at the word, "of getting us some proper transport, so let's make sure we're first in line when they're handed out, shall we?"

    Deployment at Dusk

    The mystery of the Saurian presence had been partially solved: they took the skies, they took the power and closed the means of escape. What had happened to the Human populace was still an ongoing issue. Scans and scouting had shown that the enemy held the regional capital - a port at the edge of the sea and the continent's major river - which was known to have hosted considerable civilian shelters to be used in the event of war. Iterators spoke of the hope of Human presence in these modern catacombs, citing last transmissions and the need to bring these lost children back into the Imperial fold they were part of in all but name. Short, punchy speeches designed to convince the soldiers of the Imperium to save their lost brothers and sisters clouded the beginning and end of every ship to shore vox, propaganda for the mortals that served with the Eighth Legion. Noise to the Night Lords. It got in the way. Everyone knew why they were here. Orders needed nothing to make them convincing.

    A familiar rumble of engines and backwash heralded the arrival of the transport, the Thunderhawk a darker stain on the twilight sky. Sergeant Jeresh waved two of the men forward as the rear hatch opened, gesturing to them to help unload a couple of crates as the Astartes in charge of the supply drop consulted a clip board. It was comically small in his hands. He and Jeresh locked gazes, eye lenses to eye lenses.

    "One Kar Raxus, Junior Apothecary, to be collected along with xenos samples," the newcomer said, his Nostramo Quintus accent up-Hive and posh. "Claw Master Jandur Kel wishes to retrieve the first batch of picts from Mamzel Kersaara."

    "Hmm, see there's a problem with that."

    "Is there."

    "She's not a pictographer." Jeresh gestured over his shoulder to the Remembrancer. "But I'm sure she can hum you a tune."

    The other's posture drew up a little straighter. "I will be sure to inform the Claw Lord."

    "Do that."

    While the exchange proceeded another took place with background efficiency. Ammunition and rations were taken off and a new Apothecary, his armour still space-side clean, stepped down from the Thunderhawk and took his place beside Kar Jeresh.

    "Koschei. Huh. Let's see if you live up to that." Sergeant Jeresh gestured to the rest of his Claw. "Introduce yourselves to your new Brother," he said to the waiting Night Lords, "and remember he's the one going to be sewing any missing bits back on." He gave the young Nostraman a hefty but brotherly clap on the shoulder. "Welcome to 3rd Claw, 5th Company."

    "Ave Dominus Nox, Brother," said the waiting Astartes on board as he marked off his list.

    "Ave Dominus Nox. Go in Midnight Clad, Bring the Night."

    "... naullia vylas," he muttered to the surging engines as the hatch closed and the Thunderhawk took off again.

    OOC: You are a short distance outside the urban sprawl and city proper. Simple orders are: move inwards to the city centre and crush all resistance. Scouting runs may be useful as enemy concentrations are in flux but currently cited in the underground transport system, around the sports two stadia and the city centre itself. Resistance on the edges is expected to be light but fortified. The sports stadia are reported to be the site of Saurian building activity. Preserve infrastructure where possible and retake the city for the Emperor.

    Lack of picts notwithstanding, because you supplied maps of the area and its major power grid, and restored said grid, your reputation with the Claw Master Jandur Kel is rising. You have been resupplied with ammo and can each choose an additional 3 (total) from the following: Shock Grenade, Frag Grenade, Krak Grenade, Blind Grenade. OR you can use up 2 slots and take 1 Plasma Grenade instead.

    @Colapse @Casavay @Avenging-Angel @Vulpas @Kalle @matt23 @TuskatheDaemonKilla @dx144 @Kilrane @Draconion
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  5. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member

    The Doctor Is In

    On the ride down, Koschei - callsign 'Sawbones' - disengaged his restraint harness to peer at the darkling surface below, the better to familiarise himself with the terrain. Old Terran-standard woodland with minimal urbanisation, technological development at fossil fuel-burning level, so the theatre briefings had led him to believe. In all, tame at first glance - compliances in far more hostile circumstances were well-documented by this point in the Crusade - yet early action reports from the surface had already suggested hidden depths to this theatre. Mysteriously missing civilians (nothing to do with his Legion brothers, for once), apex predatory megafauna that could discomfit an Astartes in power armour, and now, unknown saurian xenos invaders wielding chemical propellant firearms, with a debate raging as to whether they were truly xenos, or some form of genetic deviation from baseline humanity.

    Perhaps this world would be a challenge after all.

    As the Thunderhawk lands and the boarding ramp deploys, Koschei trots out, plasma gun held at low alert position as is appropriate for a secured LZ not under fire. Passing the man he will be replacing - one Kar Raxus - he slows to a walk as his medicae software suite handshakes with his fellow Apothecary's, downloading the squad's in-mission medical history to date, which Koschei flash-reads, assimilating in a matter of seconds.

    Minor injuries so far. Contusions, incisions, some concussion and minor traumatic penetration from enemy action and encounters with hostile wildlife. Low possibility of infection, verging on negligible. Marker on the one called Von Tildan for xenos biocontamination, moderate risk...due to in-field omophageal reconnaissance. Interesting. Seems a bit overcautious, but worth the extra care due to this being an as-yet unidentified species.

    Greeting the Sergeant, he nods as the senior man slaps his pauldron.

    "Sergeant. Apothecary Koschei, reporting for duty. Sawbones, if you prefer something shorter in-field."

    Turning to the rest of the squad, he notes their names as markers flick on over their heads in his helmet HUD.

    "Brothers. I am Koschei, callsign 'Sawbones,' here to replace Brother Raxus."

    His manner is soft-spoken and professional, a study in understatement and stillness. His speech is educated and precise, with only a hint of Nostramo Primus downhive to indicate that he is, in fact, gutter scum like the rest of them. This, combined with his field-blackened armour - all its reflective surfaces dulled with stripes of camouflage paint and boot-black in patterns that break up its outlines - serve to create the illusion of his entire sillhouette dissolving into the gloom, only the bone-white plague doctor's mask standing out, hovering in the dark like a disembodied spectral head. Noticing the Remembrancer standing slightly apart from the squad, he turns to her and gives her a polite nod.

    "Mamzel Kersaara."
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  6. @Draconion

    The trip from the power plant to the next targeted city allowed time for Falchion to mentally review the combat he'd taken part in since planet-fall. The saurians hadn't put up much of fight, not that the weaponry they possessed posed a real threat to an Astartes, and they were killed easier than the gutter-scum back on Nostramo.

    After the squad had reached its final stop before hitting the regional capital, after learning that a new apothecary would be replacing Raxus, Falchion watched the Thunderhawk descend towards them as he cleaned his bolter. He briefly wondered if he, or his family, had known the Night Lord handling the resupply, as he could hear an accent similar to his own.

    When the new apothecary approached, greeting Kersaara first like the gentleman he wasn't, Falchion stepped forward, putting a noble's sneer into his voice.
    "Koschei. No doubt your squad link has let you know our names but so that you actually know us, I am Falchion."

    Introduction over Falchion moved to the crates that had been unloaded from the Thunderhawk, quickly going through them and retrieving a trio of frag grenades for his collection.

    OOC: Taking 3 additional frag grenades
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  7. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member


    "Brother Falchion. Ave Dominus Nox," comes Koschei's reply as he walks past the other man with a nod, his quiet, professional demeanour never once breaking as he approaches Von Tildan.


    "Brother Von Tildan - Stalker, if you prefer - with me a moment, please. Brother Raxus marked you as a potential biocontamination risk, so I will run a few simple screens to reconfirm diagnosis. This will take only a couple minutes."

    Plugging his Narthecium data-mechadendrites into Von Tildan's armour ports, he gives his new squad-brother a once-over with his Diagnosticator helm, prioritising unusual concentrations of heat for primary attention before cascading further down the list - blood and other fluid flow and/or accumulation, immune cell congregation, other unusual cellular accumulations, unusual tissue death or remodelling markers, and so forth.

    OOC: Up to @Jorimel what Koschei finds.
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  8. Imperius matt23 Curator


    With the city off in the distance, and the squad now at a halt, Elius now felt the battle he craved just on the tip of his tongue. His sharp teeth clasped tightly together as his black, lifeless eyes glared off at the city while he simply paced a five meter trail, back and foreth. Elius was not a battle tactician compared to many of his brothers, but thankfully, when it came to hunting and stalking, none were more at home.

    Elius was no means social and, yet again, this showed when the new apothecary showed. He did not greet him, say anything, or acknowledge him for that matter as his eyes continued their lock onto the city. His fist were clinched tightly a moment more before he stopped his pacing and looked to the Sergeant Jeresh, "Why do we wait? This city is ripe with xenos to slaughter and we sit here. Their treacherous, xeno sins call out to me for judgement and the flesh cries for flaying. I say we strike right into the heart of the city, break their will to fight and send screams coursing through all their comms. We shall break their backs before they even know what happened."
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  9. Having helped the sergeant unload the crates from the back of the transport, Skell placed a crate down and saw their squad's new apothecary. The birdlike helm seemed amusing in his mind but it was nice to still have someone around who can mend wounds. Though in all honesty he wasn't sure they would really need that, so far the xenos they have fought haven't been terribly impressive aside from the local fauna. He still loathed not being able to skin one of the creatures, he didn't get to kill one personally so it could not be helped though. That aside he moved towards the new member of the squad after taking three different grenades out from a crate, should be useful later, he thought to himself.

    "Ave." He stated simply to the new member of the squad, Skell contemplated saying more but at the same time he feared what he should say. He didn't want to offend someone who could very well be in charge of keeping him alive in the future. First impressions were important so perhaps keeping a small distance would be safest and perhaps earning trust through actions instead of words would work better. That was the way of the Night Haunter after all, words were useless without action to back them up. For better or for worse.

    OOC: Grabbing a shock, frag, and krak grenade.
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  10. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    The new Apothecary introduced himself to his Brothers and got straight down to business with a commendable attention to duty in the field. Outgoing Brother Raxus' information supplied him with only one real risk of potential bio-contamination so far: Brother Tildan. He approached Von and scanned his vital signs, noting any changes to his hearts, the composition of his bodily fluids, the heat signature bleeding subtly from his armoured form. The checks he conducted revealed that his new Clawmate was well within all acceptable parameters despite his ingestion of raw xenos flesh. There was one small detail: had he remained a mortal man, Von Tildan carried a rare Nostraman marker for a gene variant that would have allowed his body to make especially efficient use of ingested vitamin D.

    "Is he a risk?" Sergeant Kar Jeresh had observed him, his black Nostraman eyes on the examination as if he were watching a curious new species of bird in a crag cat's territory.

    Meanwhile, several of the Claw took advantage of the option to take up some extra grenades. Some greeted their new Brother, some did not. One of the latter was Elius.

    "Why do we wait? This city is ripe with xenos to slaughter and we sit here. Their treacherous, xeno sins call out to me for judgement and the flesh cries for flaying. I say we strike right into the heart of the city, break their will to fight and send screams coursing through all their comms. We shall break their backs before they even know what happened." He was pacing restlessly. The Night Haunter's teachings were clear.

    "We wait for the simplest reason of all: it is not yet dark." Kar Jeresh's face split into a wide grin. "Commendable as your zeal is, Brother, I have my orders and we attack as night falls. It is only proper," he added, watching the vanishing silhouette of the Thunderhawk for a last moment.

    "When it is dark, we will come for them."
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