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Night Falls - A Night Lords 30k roleplay

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

  1. dx144 dx144 Well-Known Member

    Rhyneon nodded to the Remembrancer, he felt he'd heard of her before but it wasn't something he was sure of.

    "Rhyneon." It was brief and quickly conveyed as he looked at Nyktride.

    Rhyneon checked his weapons were primed as they would be already.

    "I take it we're to target a few specific enemies of the Night Haunter?"

    "Kill a thousand men and they will hate you. Kill a million men and they will queue to face you. But kill a single man and they will see monsters and devils in every shadow. Kill a dozen men and they will scream and wail in the night, and they shall feel not hatred, but fear."

    The words of Curze played in his mind, words to live by and honour, to go against the words of Curze was to invite death, a lesson this world would learn as well, for we are all bound by Curze's laws.

    "This mission has more feel of peace keeping than enforcing. Shouldn't this have been given to some mortals?" Ryneon snorted as he looked over the maps given making sure he'd remember them.
  2. Kilrane Kilrane Moderator

    Davode inspected the woman he was ordered to introduce himself to: thin, old, some steel in her eyes, and said to be worthy of being attached to his Legion by representatives of the Emperor Himself. Good enough, he thought. Stepping closer so her human eyes could see him he then brought the barrel of his rifle up to his right pauldron, tapping it twice. Allocer gave her a casual salute and a small smile, "Greetings, I am Allocer Davode. Such a wonderful night to watch us slaughter these rebels, ey Mamzel?"

    With that he turned to Tildan and inclined his head gesturing to the city before them indicating he was ready to begin the initial infiltration. @Vulpas
  3. Kal Kalle Arkhona Vanguard

    As the Third Claw split up and took their places in the formation, the customary Vox chatter began to establish itself, as each of the Claw's members relayed impressions and commentary on their surroundings. Sarcarin remained silent for a time, allowing the chatter to unfold, but he did not ignore it, even as he advanced from cover to cover.


    "Vandalism serves no one. Riddle me this, Skell, if a building burns in a ghost town, will anyone fear the arsonist?"


    "Speculation, Rhyneon," Sarcarin chided the younger Marine softly over the Claw's Vox network. Tarron Sarcarin was still many decades shy of a century, but his Astartes' choler had always been moderated by a melancholic disposition towards his duty in the Legion. Right now, a potent cocktail of cortisol, noradrenaline, and adrenaline was flushed through his veins, released from his adrenal glands into the bloodstream in the familiar chill that heralded battle. Sarcarin was his own master, however, and kept his cool despite his body's natural alarm system preparing him for struggle. His black eyes scanned the environment, even as he subconsciously processed information fed to him through the HUD of his helm.

    "We don't know the cause of the Myrtosians' silence nor what's become of the Imperial diplomat corps. Objectives will present themselves once the situation unveils itself. Until then, eyes open."

    @Uriel1339 @Casavay

    "Raxus, as you have elected yourself to be Mamzel Kersaara's escort, you can follow my advance and lead her through. I will watch these sectors and keep you informed of any sightings."
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  4. Saraph Midas Casavay Well-Known Member

    Kersaara breathed in the pleasant cool, so prickling on what skin was bared; the blackness heavy like the curtains of Quintus' orchestra halls. Although her senses were not enhanced like those of her soon-to-be-muses - though, she thought to herself with a chuckle that did not make it to her lips, I doubt they can tell their majors from their minors, much less their sharps from their flats... unless talking about instruments of justice, of course - her eyes were Nostraman and well acquainted with the dark. No, not even that: they needed it like an inversion of the poetic moth.

    Nevertheless, the composer extraordinaire was rather glad to be surrounded by these demigods. She tugged at the rather gauche flak vest that was messing up her ensemble something fierce, and responded to the individual introductions and non-introductions with deep bows and warm smiles that had not yet lost their earnesty: truthfully, her first instinct was to kneel in awe, but as one of the Night Haunter's court - not even a sycophant, instead one born in its darkness and thoroughly imprinted upon by it - she knew better than to display such emotion. Those that immediately departed, she would let depart, although the blasts of jump packs would be commented upon with the Remembrancer shielding her eyes and emitting a series of "Gah!" sounds, first startled, and later rather aggravated by the effect they had on her aniridia.

    Those that didn't, however... -

    "Every night is one fit for justice's swift blade. I'll say this one is especially beautiful, however", the Remembrancer responded, still smiling.

    @Uriel1339 @Kalle
    Best as her long legs would carry her, Nyktride fell into step with the Apothecary. "Please, do not let me keep you from your task, although the lack of utterly crushing gazes are appreciated!" The woman chuckled mirthfully, matronly, before laying barely a hand - her fingers, more like - on her heart as her tone turned to one of mock offense. "I feel like an intruder where all I desire is an apt chronicle of your exploits." Her smile did not stop there, but she did begin to look down and take notes. "Thankfully, I am a rather persistent sort. Like warts. Nasty colds. Or an artist! Pesky artists."
  5. dx144 dx144 Well-Known Member

    "I stop speculating when I know what I am doing, funny how that works." Ryneon mused as he strides along looking at the area around him. "I think if we make our presence known to these people, they'll answer soon enough, if they refuse... At least we can find something for Skell to do. I assume these people are as flammable as those on Nostramo. We could even make a fire for our Remembrancer friend, perhaps we could tales of how the Night Lords provided something other than death and destruction for a change." Ryneon chuckled.
  6. Uriel1339 Uriel1339 Lord of Posts

    "Fret not about the madame and I. Focus on the mission. I focus on our survival rate. But I am much obliged for the sentiment." Kar replied as soft as an oversized superhuman possibly could. But like most Night Lords it was not the softness of cloth. Rather it was the creeping slow death like a blanket of snow after an avalanche.

    "You overthink it. There is no need in belittling yourself." The Apothecary of the night responded straight up, although he was aware of her faux theatrics, there was little use of it now. Nonetheless, he could not help but make commentary. Then the conversation was maybe only making sense based on the old statistic of a bond between doctor and patient increasing the odds of survival for the latter.

    "Then again. I am terrible at sarcasm and drama. If I was to be an actor, the only roles fit to me would be that of an Assassin and that of a doctor." The vox-grill through his helmet deepened his voice artificially. It was clear, but the static in the background was ever present giving it a deeper tone than his real voice was.

    "Either way. Never stride away from me. And I promise, you shall live." He said ultimately, bolter in hand and pointing at the ground, never allowing her to stride beyond his arms reach. Because if a fight was to break out, he would not be shy of harboring her with his power armor.
  7. Saraph Midas Casavay Well-Known Member

    @Uriel1339 @Kalle
    Kersaara let out a small breath of amusement at the self-styled Doctor's words. "This is going to be fun, isn't it? I speak courtese and you speak demigodian. Let's hope dialects meet somewhere in the middle, and that coherency ensues." Her eyes, and most of her attention, were still glued on her notes. Internally, she bit her tongue to not cringe at the general defilement of a workable voice through the effects of vox-magnification and what sounded like an overtuned loudspeaker. "Rest easy, however, Lord of Darkness, and know I won't leave your side. It's not an authentic report if I can't convey the searing sensation of lasfire passing by this close!" Nyktride took a break from writing to indiciate just how close she meant with her thumb and index finger.
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  8. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    In as old a strategy as the cry of the condor, Strah made for the high ground. The quiet city around him lit up to the flare of his jump pack in a sudden, macabre silhouette, casting shadows that writhed but briefly until he settled, soon to be joined by his Claw-brother. Elius looked out over the deserted buildings, the empty squares.

    "I hope you were not about to start the hunt without me, Strah. I would hate for you to start the cultivation of terror without me." Elius said, settling onto his roost. The echo of dying cries from Elius' jump pack faded as Strah scanned the city sector by sector, methodically looking for signs of populace. He found none. The excellent height advantage allowed him to see that there were no bodies, living or, if dead, none recent enough to emit any light from decomposition bacteria. The excitement of the Stalk was there, under the veil of caution. Both Astartes' dark eyes - and their helmets' scans - confirmed that. Nothing to see here. No sign of conflict on the hab-units, no looting of the retails, the government buildings untouched by the rough hands of revolution. No prey.

    Falchion knew well the ways of stealth, but he also knew the uses of a more direct approach. Striding out with a bit of a swagger in his step, he gunned his chainsword, the repetitive whirring bouncing off the walls around him as he made his way forward. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, the mechanical rhythm played, the smooth purr of Martian technology given a more tooth-setting whine by the Nostraman care it received.

    While some made formal introductions, two of the Haunter's Sons took time to speak to Madame Kersaara for a little longer. Sarcarin was the closest the Claw had to a veteran, even if the tally of his years in service was light, and he took time to reassure the human woman. Kar Raxus - well used to stitching up the smaller frames of humanity before his ascension - stepped up and took the Remembrancer under his blackened wing. This earned him a nod from Jeresh as he took to the shadows, slipping into them to the left of Falchion. Tarron fanned out to the right. Wherever the lure goes, there walks his shadow.

    Following suit, Von and Skell made themselves known and got to work. Von's detailed scan of the city for life signs confirmed it: no living bodies, and none recently dead enough to still emit heat. Skell, of course, wanted to supply heat of his own. Surely the burning torches of a few crucified men made a fine light for Imperial illumination of the wicked? Currently, however, there was no-one to burn.

    "Negative, Third Claw, do not commence cleanse and burn protocols. We have nothing yet to fear our flame," Kar Jeresh's voice was low, quiet over the vox. "We slay where we are led, Rhyneon. More to the point," the Sergeant's midnight form popped up from the shadow a few paces from the Tactical Marine, lightning flashes static for now as he scanned the silent city ahead, "mortals came here and died. That is why they sent us." Eye lenses regarded him for a moment before disappearing back into the gloom.

    Allocer did not waste time, but he did make time for pleasantries. A bond with the Remembrancer would not, it seemed, be scorned by everyone. Kersaara herself made ready to proceed into the silent city with some words of her own, and not - given her profession - far too many, as often found among her kin. She resolved to keep up. The best symphonies, after all, are not written posthumously.

    Tarron kept an eye on Claw cohesion, and his overview of the situation was soon confirmed. The city was empty for as far as genhanced eyes could see. The thickening darkness gave no trouble to the Night Lords, and it always seemed more natural to the Nostraman-born. The streets widened, and some transit vehicles were revealed - fewer than one might expect, but these, too, were parked in good order. It seemed that the city had not been suddenly left in a panic. There were no signs of sudden disintegration, no groundcars crashed into lightpoles, no burning ovens, no overfilling baths. It was as if everyone who had lived there no longer did so. Strangely too, there were no animals, save for a few stray birds of the kind that commonly pick at trash. No circling scavengers. Planetary data indicated a wild population in the unsettled areas, including several large carnodon-like species, but here, nothing moved.

    "No food for the crows," Jeresh muttered, processing data from the Claw's spread wings.

    Strah was the first to spot anything anomalous. With a loping jog - bursting into flight every time they met a jump they couldn't clear - he and Elius kept to the higher ground with all the view it offered. Something moving. Low, squat shapes, not quite the size of domestic bovids. A herd of nervous, flighty prey animals, nostrils twitching, no doubt scenting the air with fear-musk for metres around. To the north, a couple of streets away. Once Tildan got closer, his heat-scan picked them up as well. Clustered around one of the larger buildings, a villa with green grounds. Nothing like a jungle, but with some impressive specimen trees. Now, if only anyone cared to be a gardener. The herd was moving, spilling out onto the streets but without purpose, without any sign of pursuit. They had not smelled the infiltrating Astartes and presented no more threat than the parked vehicles.

    The larger building marked the beginning of the service hub of the city, a ground transport terminal and public buildings clustered around a grand central square. Third Claw could have held a victory parade there, should there be any victory. For now, all there was was silence. Except for -

    Astartes hearing could pick up subtle from the environment that unenhanced senses would easily miss, and the dark-adapted eyes of the Eighth were matched by their sharp ears. To the south, a transit station was occupied by at least five humans. There were no deviations from Terran standard as transhuman senses parsed scent cues, heat signatures, air displacement. Five warm, breathing, fearful bodies. Two together, in a huddle behind a closed door, and three more within the chamber. Water and heat pipes fed the room building and were active, unlike the rest of the city so far. Lights kept low, despite Humanity's ancient fear of the dark.

    The building is part of a transit station - perhaps a cafeteria or waiting room - and has an entrance into the street as well as being connected to other buildings around the station. It isn't very defensible, having large windows - though these are shuttered with metal shutters they wouldn't stop many bolt rounds. There is likely to be a way in though the back from the platform side. The platforms and transit roads, rails etc allow easy access to the station. There are some parked vehicles outside, each large enough for about 20 humans but currently empty. One is parked at a slant.

    @Colapse @Casavay @Avenging-Angel @Uriel1339 @Vulpas @Kalle @matt23 @TuskatheDaemonKilla @dx144 @Kilrane

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  9. Skell grumbled at the responses he got from the rest of the claw about burning the town. “The Haunter’s teachings are wise and true as always, but you people are no fun.” After making the comment he went into the serious work of the hunt. Leaping from roof to roof by the power of his muscles rather than his jump pack to keep stealth. Eventually finding these signatures as he was perched on the tower of a building that perhaps at one point held religious significance. “Finally, something lives in this place.” He said through the vox. “Perhaps we could inquire as to why this place is so abandoned?” He asked as he lept to the next rooftop so he could get a better view. “I could crash my way in but there might be more hiding somewhere. Any thoughts brothers?”
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  10. @Jorimel @TuskatheDaemonKilla

    "Our mortals Sergeant? Or the natives?"
    Falchion gradually stopped gunning his chainsword as the noise failed to draw anything out into the open, and from the squad's vox-chatter there wasn't anything here anyway.

    When the squad came upon coming across the occupied building Falchion unhurriedly approached it, eyeing up the metal shutters for a moment. Making no effort to mask his movements Falchion began lightly randomly tapping the pommel of his chainsword against's the building's exterior as he began circling it.
    "We should flush them out Skell, and take them when they're out in the open. Then we and they can talk."
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