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Perfect Warriors

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by Colapse, Jun 22, 2018.

  1. Fox Vulpas Well-Known Member

    As The xenos began rallying for a final attack against the squad Jendon spun his bolt pistol and readied himself for a stand with his brothers, Until out of the sky it began raining death upon there enemies and the rest of there legion had arrived. upon seeing the lord commander coming up to them he would do his salute as he was trained to in training. As his brothers were speaking there request Jendon himself was a silent until Elymas said his request. Jendon's silence and sweating were due to the state of his armor and squads appearance they completed there objective But could have done better Jendon thought in his mind as his brothers spoke.

    As Elymas spoke he would hear what the Elymas would say and gain a sense of respect for him requesting a funeral for there brothers and the humans under there command and the people, Compassion a rarirty seen on the battlefield.

    "Sir as many of our brother's request, for repairs for there armor, and better weapons, I believe it would be wise for our apothecaries to begin patching up our wounds to bring us back up to battle readiness to continue our duty. As well as recovering gene-seed from our fallen brothers, During the battle, I encountered several of our brothers that had a chance for recovery of there gene-seed. I believe it's important to recover there gene-seed before any harm can come to it to ensure their legacy continues on in our future brothers, That is why I would like to ask to join the ranks of the apothecaries, To help support our brothers on the field, and to help mend their wounds and prevent them from falling, and if when it comes to it recover there gene-seed when they fall." Jendon said he kept his words as best he could respectful and confident as he spoke to there leader.
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  2. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Alephoros didn't waste time in killing the enemy, though it did satisfy him to have been a part of its final demise. His anger faded into the background once that was done - but only until he saw the cages. Of course they were too late. It was never going to possible to save everyone, and the necessity of the battlefield decision did not make its outcome any the nicer. But, one does not serve the Emperor in order to feel a warm fuzzy feeling inside. Aleph swore to do his duty and that was what he had done. He mourned the captives, civilian and Battle-Brother alike, for they did not deserve such perfidy. But - a movement caught his eye as the last shell from his bolt pistol cooled and remnants of xenos pattered to the ground. Most were dead, but not all. Quickly locking his pistol to his armour Aleph wrenched open the nearest cage with a strength born of anger and hope, a strange sensation indeed. Inside, most of the prisoners were little more than torn meat but one still gasped. Aleph lifted him clear of the bodies with gentle hands, saving him from drowning in the blood of his fellows.

    Working quickly, he was about to open the next cage where he thought he'd seen a flicker of life when lightning and thunder covered the sky. On majestic wings, the Emperor's fury was here. The distant sounds of combat soon blurred beneath the roar of heavy guns and Aleph, heartened by the sight, saluted towards the heavens for a moment, acknowledging the reinforcements there though he knew they wouldn't see him. Back to his work, at once dismal and tinged with hope. If there was even one survivor, it was a spit in the face of the xenos and a victory for the Imperium. Not all wars are won with guns.

    The arrival of the majestic Lord Commander demanded his attention and - unlike Elymas - Alephoros was disciplined to give it in the fullest. He asked the squad what he could grant them. Aleph paused. He didn't expect this. Censure was something he hoped to avoid. Praise was unlooked for but welcome. The offer of assistance, or of ... suggestions as to what they might like, well, that was an unexpected turn for the young Legionary. One that he could embrace.

    With a slight frown as he removed his helmet, Aleph turned away from Elymas' exhibition and back to the Lord Commander. He had acted to protect the witch from harm, of course - he was a squadmate - and of course all the fallen should be honoured. But something in Elymas' manner nagged at him. His blatant disrespect in turning his back on Leonis in order to sing at the dead corpses was ... troubling to Aleph. Talk of haunting our dreams did not sit well with him. Surely, one remembered fallen Brothers, but this talk seemed perilously close to that of ghosts and spirits. Two things banished by the light of Imperial Reason. He knew that those touched by the psyker's sight were odd beings, but he would need to keep an eye on this behaviour. It wasn't seemly for one of the Third.

    However, Aleph said nothing of this to Leonis. A few doubts were not worth throwing a Brother under the Rhino for.

    "Lord Commander, Legionary Aster reporting. We have a very few survivors from the xenos cages and I would like to request that they receive care as soon as possible. They may have additional intelligence," he added, not wanting to seem sentimental. He did care, but Vitaly's thorough and commendable answer had him on his toes.

    "For myself, Lord, if we have carte blanche I would like to request a powered blade. I am a swordsman by inclination and skill, and I feel that it would be a good use of my abilities to be able to master such a skill."
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  3. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    @Jorimel @WanderingJester @dx144 @DeranVendar @Draconion @Vulpas @Kalle @Uriel1339

    Lord Commander Leonis listened with patience as members of the 4th squad presented their reports and observations as well as couple of requests. His face was pristine, looking as much as any fresh recruit would imagine the heroes of the Legion would, all regal and majestic. However once he heard Elymas's words his brow was raised and a look of something between surprise and anger marred his otherwise almost perfect visage.

    "What is this nonesense you're talking about?! Ghosts, spirits, souls? Singing for the dead?" he replied, not sounding at all happy as he loomed over Librarian, bringing his full imposing presence onward, one of his hands dangerously close to his weapon. His Terminator bodyguards also took a step in front, tensing a bit and mimicking their leader. "Vespasian told me I was a fool to include Hephestus and his conclave aboard my ship, yet alone employ your questionable skills. Now I see why. Perhaps I was too hasty. Know this however, I will not tolerate this heresy in my Milennial and if our Chielf Librarian can't root it out, I will."

    "As for your other requests," Leonis stepped away from Elymas, turning to the rest of the squad, "You have the best weapons you need to be better. Emperor, beloved by all, bestowed them upon you when you ascended from your mortal chains and joined the ranks of Legiones Astartes. Asking for anything more is a sign of weakness and weakness is not something we of the Third will ever tolerate. Carry on," he finished and stalked away from the squad and towards the cages, followed by his retinue which outside hidden hostility, ushered not a sound.

    Once they moved out of earshot, everyone could hear a loud sigh as their Sergeant unclamped his helmet. They could see his scar-marked visage, the signs of old battles creating a mosaic out of his once handsome face. Short hair and trimmed beard alongside a slightly darker tan than it was usual with the sons of Fulgrim gave away some of Sidon's age. "You don't ask Lord Commander for a better sword or a better gun but even that can pass. What you can almost certainly never ever attempt is tell him what to do," he grunted and spat a handfull of blood as whatever splinter shard in his body caused him pain, "Elymas, next time follow Vitaly's example and keep the discussion appropriate. You out of all people should know that Librarians aren't welcomed in our Legion and your future existence hangs by a thread so if Lord Commander decides he's had it enough with you, he can toss you out of the nearest airlock and nobody would give a damn. Well, I would because you're my squadmate, but I don't think that's much of a comfort."

    "Now all this aside, what I'm actually angry about is not getting us that wine and I really don't like to do war on a dry throat," final sigh was accompanied with a reload of his bolter, overseeing the last of the Dark Eldar dying to the Emperor's Children's blades and recovery of whatever was left of the captured forces.

    Landing zone primaris, Emperor's Children HQ

    Couple of days have passed since the fighting against the Dark Eldar and 4th Squad's slaying of their Haemonculus leader. Despite whatever they might've thought of themselves, the words spread and many Legionaries, both fresh and veterans, from the other squads and companies congratulated the younglings on their achievement. Sidon never showed it openly, simply shrugging the compliments aside, but it was evident by his good mood that he too was glad how the things turned out. At the moment he even seemed content with the fact that the 4th was now given new instructions - in order to spend the time recovering from inflicted wounds constructive, they were ordered to help fortfying the main base of operations the Third Legion had on the planet, its location near the place where they fought the mad surgeon, on a side of a mountain overlooking the jungle below. Dark Eldar were still active deeper into the continent's interior, however the combined forces of Archite Palatines and Emperor's Children were steadily advancing and while the losses were significant, the alien raiders were falling back with each passing day. This also meant that there was little action back in the main base outside training with your fellow Legionaries but perhaps this was a good thing, as this was also the first time most of these young warriors had a chance of actually spending time and getting to know each other as all of them were pretty much, right after the conscription and organ implementation proceedures, thrown in the fires of Great Crusade almost instantly.

    However, while some had bit more free time to do what they wished, be it helping the fortification effort, improving their own skills via practicing or simply patrolling the perimeter, couple of brothers from the 4th were summoned by few specific members of senior command staff of the Leonis Milennial, apparently whatever resentment the Lord Commander might've had against them passed as quickly as it came and the request for further specialization was approved, or at least some part of it.

    Field Hospital
    @DeranVendar @Vulpas

    "How does it feel? It's not like the real one but then again, you should've been more careful," Senior Apothecary Reedian asked Extrovious as he made the final adjustments on Assault Legionary's new arm. Highly advanced bionic mechanism under a layer of vat-grown skin grafts gave away absolutely no sign of the limb being a "fake" one on the outside. Emperor's Children indeed had the best equipment available.

    There were couple of Apothecaries working around a number of beds all filled with wounded Legionaries having similar injuries like Extrovious - either missing limbs or severe cases of poisoning due to Dark Eldar insidious weaponry. One brother lying next to the young warrior suddenly went into a shock due to his body unable to process the alien toxins, forcing the Senior Apothecary to turn away from Extrovious and stab the wounded Legionary with a cocktail of antidotes from his narthecium, cursing all the way. "Emperor dammit, these sons of bitches got Brother Viatine real good, couple of more shards and he'd be a goner. Hey you, get me that medical box from that crate, I need to administer another dose," Reedian told Jendon, who also happened to be present after he was summoned here by the leader of the Apothecaries in this force.

    "I owe you my thanks," he told Jendon once he approached the beds, "I was leading the recovery force and we found the signal you left on the bodies of our fallen brothers. Geneseed was collected and the future of the Legion will not be put to question ever again. Tell me, have you ever considered receiving Apothecary training?" Reedian asked Jendon bluntly as he replensihed the stock of drugs in his equipment and gave Viatine another stab, stopping the shaking of the body and bringing the wounded Legionary back from being unconscious.

    Librarius Conclave

    Similarly like the Apothecaries, the Librarians too made part of the Emperor's Children's base their own, albeit much smaller one. Away from the main set of buildings and training areas, at the northern edge of the camp built into the mountainside was a large tent where Chief Librarian Hephestus set up his arcane equipment and was where Elymas found the rest of this brothers. Besides Hephestus, there were five more Librarians, three senior ones and two more fresh recruits, Alesio and Claudius, both of them from the same batch of recruits Elymas was and all three of them were trained at the same time by Lord Hephestus. All of them were however busy at the moment, fixing the equipment needed for scrying in place and preparing scrolls to ward off possible enemy's psychic attacks, leaving young Legionary to answer Hephestus's summons alone.

    Chief Librarian was further in the back, sitting behind a table and reading reports from the front. Bald, powerfully built and armed with an inscribed power axe, the man radiated danger in a way not accustomed for the members of the III Legion. Being a pyromancer in art, his both looks and temper could follow the calling, Elymas familiar with some of it during the brutal gauntlets he had to undergo under Hephestus's supervision. Even now the Librarian didn't look happy as he saw young psyker entering the tent.

    "Explain yourself Elymas. I helped you live and you do what? Put us all in danger? What were you thinking?"

    Emperor's Children main motor pool, Mechanicum division

    It didn't take much for the Legion to pick out the most promising candidates for each job, it was perhaps one of the traits in which they excelled - spotting their disadvantages and turning them into strenghts. Perhaps it was due to their nature or the fact they suffered such catastrophe at the time of their inception that they had to work with what they got in order to survive, but one thing was certain. They left nothing for chance.

    That's how Vitaly got himself right in the middle of around twenty Legion's vehicles, each having one too many holes to count, the terrible damage done by the Dark Eldar dark matter weaponry familiar to the young Legionary as he had close encounter with it during his first deployment. Around dozen or so Techmarines worked around the clock to fix them, complemented by an army of Tech Adepts and their servitors from the Martian Mechanicum. The work in the pool was going nonstop, the place working like a well-oiled clock. However as even more vehicles (with various degrees of damage inflicted) were being hauled in on large transporters, it was clear that the aliens were putting out quite an effort to severely blunt the Legion's armored advance.

    "I have read your resume young Vitaly, so to speak, and I've seen that you are quite a scavenger-tinker. Or at least that's what your past tells me," Vitaly was being addressed by an older Techmarine that went by the name of Thales. While his hair was mostly gone or turned into snow white, the face while being covered in something that suspiciously looked like wrinkles was mostly devoid of augmentations, except for a red mechanical eye in place of his left real one. His body was another thing completely, as most of it was made of bionics, even his armor lost most of the purple paint, now being a mix of grey and silver. However while the upgrades left Senior Techmarine with a larger bulk, he didn't look threatening, in fact he seemed quite calm and friendly, his voice the sound of an elderly tribe leader speaking to his children.

    "I'm more interested in the future. To put it bluntly, we're in dire need of manpower," Tales said while his array of mechadendrites simultaneously worked on installing a lascannon on the sponson side of a nearby Sicaran Battle Tank. "To be honest, we were always in a need of more able hands but the Dark Eldar are destroying our vehicles faster than we can deploy them. So what do you think about joining me for the time being? From what I gathered, you have the right mindset and what you lack is proper training. I can provide you with this, if you are interested."
  4. Kal Kalle Arkhona Vanguard

    Landing Zone Primaris: Emperor's Children HQ

    Camille had been released from the field hospital earlier than some. The grafted heart had merged with his body seamlessly, from what he was able to tell. It was strange, and the young Astartes wondered if he should be feeling a difference. Yet two hearts beat sympathetically to one another, pushing blood through his veins. Introspection had proven disturbing to him, at some level, but he elected to let the thought pass. Willed himself to banish those intrusive musings, and instead use his newfound health for something purposeful.

    His armor repaired, Camille felt his confidence equally restored. The sacrifice of their Legion's Scouts had made a lasting impression on him. He had admired them previously, but after their rocky first confrontation with the Dark Eldar, Camille had felt compelled to honor the fallen by taking their duties upon himself.

    It was for this reason he now found himself face to face with the section of camp reserved for the Legion's Recon Marines. For guidance. For his brothers.
  5. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    Field Hospital
    "Such are the burdens of duty, Brother Apothecary. I shall endeavor to not waste my skin again in the future." Extrovious flexes the new limb, sighing through his nose upon realizing one of his limbs no longer enjoys the satisfying tension of muscles contracting. Extrovious looks to Jendon a moment, then back to Reedian. "There are worthy rewards for paying such prices at least." Legs kick over the side of his cot, marine finding his feet without any of the foibles that might of plagued a mere human after an extended rest. "I must go and acclimate to the new arm, I thank you for your efforts, Senior Apothecary." Presenting himself smartly to his fellow legionnaire, Extrovious then takes his leave, nodding at Jendon on the way out. "Had best see you in the cages soon, brother."

    @Vulpas @Colapse

    Blade Bound Bonding
    Extrovious passes beneath a flickering lumen globe stuck up on the wall. Naked hand reaches up to open the cage around the bulb, taking a moment to tighten it and ensure a steady supply of light over the fifty feet or so of hallway it illuminated. Satisfied with the small correction to their fortification, and ignorant of the fact that his act would be viewed as tech-heresy in the following millennia, warrior lets himself into the training cages. Spartan chamber is rife with the sounds of combat. In one of the reinforced pens a warrior wielding twin blades crashes against a training Servitor, facing down the whirlwind of steel at the slave's disposal with deft turns of blade and daring ripostes. An impressive display, but Extrovious knows better than to stare and gawk, lest he give up his inexperience to the others so readily. Stepping deeper into the room his eyes spy one of Sidon's, one of his brothers.

    "Yours is truly a noble soul, Aleph." Brother approaches brother with a friendly grin that compliments the angelic features that befits his status as an Astartes, and would not look that out of place among the Blood Angels either. Without his armor, garbed in a body glove that would not of looked out of place in the factories of home, it becomes apparent that much of Extrovious' stature appears a natural gift. The son of Fulgrim cuts an outline like the flank of a battle tank."We were shamed several times that day, but the shame you placed upon the rest of us was by far the most personal." He lets out a soft sigh and smile dims into something more neutral. "You were first one down in that mire of bodies searching for survivors. I apologize I was not down there sooner to aid you in the task. If you would have it, perhaps I can atone by helping you in your quest for martial superiority?" Extrovious has paced to a weapons rack by this point of the introduction, taking one of the weighted training blades from its resting place. Weapon flips in hand, Extrovious catching it by blade so handle is extended towards Aleph. Free hand drums fingers towards a claymore, pausing momentarily like a spider stilling itself before the strike, then latches onto the neighboring haft of a halberd.

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  6. dx144 dx144 Well-Known Member

    The response from the Lord Commander was typical, Pholax just assumed everyone was having a laugh, well not the witch, he wondered if they could laugh. There was stories of people like him who could turn your skin inside out, force you under their control or even burn you with their hands.

    Pholax still understood he was our brother but it didn't mean he trusted him, a bit of caution never hurt anyone and it is better to er on the side of caution than end up being put under a spell.

    Listening to Sidon tell us how we should have acted, Pholax was still in a good mood, the Xenos were dead and dying and they'd accomplished their task and our fallen would be honoured.

    "So does this mean my armour will be fixed up?" Pholax asked laughing again.

    After those couple of days, Pholax had still been in the tatters his armour had been left in since the Xeno counterattack. Sometimes it is good to have a scar to remind you of your past, but your armour is something that shouldn't be broken.

    Pholax looked at his leg seeing dried blood still on it, least the shards were out of there now. He needed to get this repaired or a new piece of wargear. He hadn't had to wear his helmet in those couple of days, but the damage to it as it was maglocked to his thigh was still evident.

    There would probably be a makeshift armoury around here somewhere, they should have some wargear to spare, can't have Astartes going into battle with broken gear after all.

    One thing for sure was he was going to enjoy bathing after this, days spent in this suit doesn't do well for one's hygiene.

    Entering into a makeshift armoury in the hopes they had some spare wargear for Pholax to use in the coming war, his wounds weren't that bad and have sealed and begun healing themselves, although if his hair will ever regrow is beyond him.
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  7. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Do Not Question Authority

    Aleph listened with growing disbelief to the tirade Leonis launched at the squad, mixed with an undoubted anger. He kept his face neutral. The mask of a stone angel. Gradually, the assumed mask made his hearts calm and his temper cooled, solidifying into something more steely and resolute.

    The young Legionnaire wasn't the kind of man one motivated with disrespect or dismissal. Tell Alephoros Aster that his best was grox shit and he didn't develop a sudden desire to prove the accuser wrong. He simply demoted his opinion. And as he pondered, as he weathered the first hot rush of wrath as the Lord Commander asked for suggestions as to how he might honour their part in the fight and then turned on them for daring to give him the answers he requested, Aleph's thoughts went to places that he did not find comfortable.

    Never ask a question if you don't want an answer. It had been said to him somewhere in his childhood - as a Marine, he no longer remembered quite where, or how - but he'd heard it more than once. He'd lived by it as well as he could. Truth is not always the most palatable of things, but it remains the truth. Aleph considered - as Sidon spoke - that perhaps the Lord Commander didn't want to hear from them at all, except with simple platitudes. He was offering routine praise, saccharine at best. But that didn't sit right as the truth. Aleph watched the older Marine's swagger as he walked away. What did we give him? Ideas and requests for equipment beyond basic supplies. Hardly a bad answer. Aleph frowned. What if, in supplying such an answer, they'd been ... well, with the exception of the witch's antics they had not been in the slightest disrespectful. So the conclusion that remained was that the answers had been more than he'd wanted. Too ... perfect? No, not perfect, of course perfection couldn't be bettered, but they'd answered better than he expected from a bunch of new recruits. And their performance had been more than Leonis expected too. Legionary Aster couldn't be sure. He didn't like this conclusion. It made Leonis petty, and potentially a block to their achievement of perfection. It was probably something else. But with his conclusion, Aleph withdrew his trust in the Lord Commander. A hard lesson to learn early, but probably for the best. It would not affect his ability to follow orders or work with the chain of command, for he was of the Third Legion and one of Fulgrim's own. He shrugged a little. He did respect Sergeant Sidon, and so when he replied, he did so with deference.

    "With all respect, Sir, we answered the way we did because he asked us to. To have done otherwise would have shown disrespect in my eyes. Sir - I am sorry about your drink."

    "We will just have to make sure of our toasts next time, Sergeant." Aleph saluted, fist to his chestplate, back straight. Sidon was a man he could march into battle with without qualm. So far, a little voice in his head chimed in, at least.

    Steel Against Steel

    Aleph had time to think, and he was not overly fond of that. He thought too much - or at least, he thought he did ... The best way through was for him to turn his mind to the reason for his existence: the pursuit of perfection. Also, he wasn't one to dwell on things for long by his nature. The universe was too full for that. So he swung by his cot in their quarters, attended to his war-gear and showered the dirt of the battle away. His enhanced physiology was taking care of the hurts he'd suffered, and - with a critical turn in the mirrors of the ablutions chamber - so far his smooth skin was devoid of any scars save the points where his armour interfaced with his nervous system. And those, they were not scars. They were the transformers in the circuit that connected him with the almost-divine potential of his Primarch.

    Time soon enough found him in the training cages, watching a Brother stepping lively in order to avoid the swings of a servitor programmed to challenge even a swordsman of the Third. The footwork was occupying his attention at the moment, but - ever alert - he heard a familiar voice above the crash of blades and the occasional laboured breath.

    "Yours is truly a noble soul, Aleph." Brother approaches brother with a friendly grin that compliments the angelic features that compliment both his status as an Astartes, and would not look that out of place among the Blood Angels either. "We were shamed several times that day, but the shame you placed upon the rest of us was by far the most personal." He lets out a soft sigh and smile dims into something more neutral. "You were first one down in that mire of bodies searching for survivors. I apologize I was not down there sooner to aid you in the task. If you would have it, perhaps I can atone by helping you in your quest for martial superiority?"

    Aleph raised an eyebrow even as he reached forward to take the offered blade. "Your words are kind, Brother, but I know you'd have done the same. I was just the closest one." He straightened, looking up and down the body-gloved warrior before him. Aleph dressed in loose trousers and a tunic in plain cream, unbleached linen when off duty. It showed the blood. If he bled, he wasn't good enough.

    "I saw no shame in your actions. In fact, I'd say you were an example to us all." He gave the practice blade an experimental swing or two. "And you seem none the worse for it despite the cost. How fares the arm?" He did wonder - though he was in no hurry to lose an arm - how it felt. Was it polite to ask? "Leading from the front sets a fine example." He smiled, meaning the compliment. He stepped into a vacant cage, inviting Extrovious to join him.

    "I would welcome any chance to learn. The quest is the means to the end; the end is perfection." For a moment, Aleph's eyes drifted upwards as he recalled the words the first time he'd heard his Primarch speak. He snapped back to the moment. "On the count of three, Brother?"
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  8. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member

    <Work Experience Kid Meets Supervisor>

    "I would be deeply honoured to understudy you, sir," replies Vitaly, pulling on an unclaimed set of work gloves and a pair of goggles, eyes alight with relish.

    Snatching up a multi-tool from a nearby toolbox, Vitaly sets to work making himself useful any way he can. Though he has never worked on a Sicaran before, he recognises many of the fundamental workings, common as they are to STC technology, much of which he has seen and worked on extensively in his past life. As he works on stripping and replacing damaged armour plate, he begins to ramble about his inspirations, as he tends to while engaged in enjoyable work.

    "Sir, if I may suggest, some field studies of enemy weapons may go some way to reducing casualties. The Eldar have technology that outstrips us, but if we make an effort to understand their fundamental working principles, we may be able to jury-rig countermeasures to degrade their effectiveness somewhat," he says, talking from beneath the belly of the tank while inspecting the fluid lines, "These 'Dark Matter' weapon systems, for instance. At least according to the periodicals, we know next to nothing about them, but they are almost certainly some form of charged particle delivery devices, albeit using extremely exotic matter and energy. If we could capture and study some samples, we might be able to degrade the particle streams by rigging our vehicles to carry the same charge. Your thoughts, sir?"

    A guilty thought occurs to him, and he rolls out from beneath the tank. Reaching to his belt, he pulls out a wicked Dark Eldar blade - the same bayonet that impaled him in the fight a day or so ago, and hands it, pommel-first, to the Techmarine.

    "Apologies, sir. I know I should have turned this in earlier, but what with one thing and another, I plain forgot. I took this from the xeno that stabbed me with it and just...hung on to it, I suppose. Amazing blade geometry, too. It's totally inert, yet it cuts armour almost like a power blade, sir. Wish I could study it."
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  9. KnightReborned WanderingJester Well-Known Member

    Martyn merely rolled his eyes after Lord Commander Leonis walked away, disappointed in himself that he would've expected any other response. Of course, the psyker's song of spirits and ghosts didn't help either. The young line brother gave a shrug to their sergeant's response to high command, knowing that already but giving away his logic to hope. So he just went back to watching the clean up by their reinforcements, still wondering why he had not felt as much sorrow for their fallen as his brothers.

    "I hope so, Pholax, since my armor no longer matches my face."



    The next few days saw Martyn exploring their main base, making friends with those brothers that came over to congratulate them and generally chewing the fat whenever he wasn't training. He had not seen a few of his squadmates as they had been called up to several different sections of the base, and whenever the motor pool or the apothecarion didn't need any extra hands to move crates of supplies and such, they shooed him away. The librarius he stayed away from all together, given the volatile abilities of its inhabitants.

    Coming back from a patrol, another one which had so little happen Martyn didn't even bother putting on a helmet, he stopped down at the training cages. Slotting away his weapons on the racks outside, he went to the servitor and tech savant station to disengage from his power armor, now repaired and restored to its former glory. Picking up a training sword strangely similar to a smaller version of the one wielded by their primarch, the young marine walked into the cages to survey the area.

    Martyn gave a look of appreciation to the warrior with the dual blades, he turned to see Extrovious and Aleph about to face each other. As they hadn't begun to earnestly clash, he called over to his squadmates. "Hey, guys! I got winner next round, okay? Wanna work on my blade works these days. Think I like it better than shooting foes from afar." With that, he let his brothers focus on the spar ahead while walking over to a spare combat servitor, before activating it.

    The servitor, holding a mace and an axe, woke, before approaching the Emperor's Child. Martyn grinned before twirling the training blade in his hand, and moved forward, delivering a flurry to counter the advantage of the extra weapon. He hadn't even tired his hair back for this one, his straight silvery locks floating in the air as he sparred with the half machine, half man in front of him.

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  10. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    "The arm fares as our foes: lifeless and alien to me." Stepping into the cage with halberd crossed diagonally before his chest, he dips the weapon's head lest it catch on the entrance. "Three seconds, third blood." Finding a sporting distance from his opponent Extrovious switches the weapon between each hand, testing its weight and were it feels most comfortable in his hands. Contrary to popular belief among their cousin legions, the practice weapons were as utilitarian as they came; no gilded edges or intricately carved hafts here... except for that one spare axe on the wall, but beyond that!

    "Martyn, not going to come in here and take us both on at once? Suit yourself, I shall see to you shortly my brother." A friendly barb to Martyn and Aleph both is the last thing Extrovious offers each warrior before starting the timer. Ensuring that his opponent is prepared, he begins the countdown. "And...three." Arms draw his pole arm back, the spear tipped head glinting in the artificial lighting of the cage. Two broad strides closed the gap in his favor, marine counting on the extended reach of his weapon to let him fight aggressively to start. Aleph finds Extrovious strafing left before he makes his first stab. Blow starts high and then dips low during the reach, wielder's aim to pierce a leg and disrupt the other man's footing from the get go.

    @WanderingJester @Jorimel
    Uriel1339, Kalle, Colapse and 4 others like this.

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