Background Image

Perfect Warriors

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

  1. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    Search for a worthy challenger

    OOC not sure if Pholax and Arnock want to keep on with the conversation, so I'm tagging both of you here even though I'm writing it while only mentioning our standard bearer.

    Since Emperor's Children were a martial Legion, rumors of skilled warriors and their efforts were spread far and wide, amounting to quite a number. However as always, there were those who were slightly ahead of their peers, who had the stars shining above them a little brighter. Stories of one such fighter serving within Captain Apox's own honor squad allowed Arnock to find him easily as he too was here, present on this Ork battlestation.

    They called him Kenjiro, the Serpent's Son.

    Story went that he was born on Chemos in a family of lowly mine workers and as a little boy, he was lost in the tunnels as the poor hovel where he lived with his family was destroyed in an earthquake. Separated from the other humans, he alone survived in the dark fighting monsters that inhabited Chemos' depths. From pale-skinned blind walkers to crustacean horrors, he slayed them all. Even the greatest creature, the blackened wyrm-crawlers of the darkest abyss became a prey for Kenjiro, who wore their skins as a cloak to better camouflage himself in these hard conditions.

    After Fulgrim reconquered the world and brought peace, followed by the coming of the Emperor, Mechanicum's salvage teams found the boy, living among these snake-like creatures as some sort of their chieftain. Impressed with the feat, Phoenician gave him the moniker he uses even now.

    As one would expect, Arnock found Kenjiro knee deep in Greenskin bodies. Unrelenting push into the battlestation's interior left no room for mistakes and even while the aliens were pretty much beaten by this point, none of them possessed common sense to simply lay down and await Emperor's Children' judgement. Instead, they fought on, knowing that the battle was lost but caring only to spend their last breath fighting the purple-clad conquerors. Kenjiro was located in one of myriad corridors that went from the destroyed enginarium and throughout the entire lower portion of the station. Clad in Terminator armor and wielding a pair of lightning claws, he led the assault into one particular group of Orks that managed to rally and attempted to reach Big Mek's workshop and possibly acquire some explosives. They of course didn't know all of that was gone now but in the end it didn't matter.

    Serpent's Son and his entourage of Terminators drove straight into the aliens, tearing them into shreds. Arnock arrived at the scene just in time to see last of the Orks die, his bulking form no match for enhanced strength offered by the tactical dreadnought armor and the thing died messily, Kenjiro using one claw to stab the Ork into a wall and then proceeded to hack it apart with the second claw until nothing remained of it but small chunk of its torso, the rest of it turned into green mush.

    "Didn't expect to see Legion's Standard and its bearer this deep into the alien lair," he said as Arnock approached, allowing scouts from the Silent Step Brotherhood that supported the Terminators to go down the corridor first and map the area for his own squad to advance and destroy any Xenos that shows its ugly snout. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

    @matt23 ( @dx144 )

    Palatine clad venom

    "You like the wine? I've seasoned it myself, has a secret ingredient," Cautorious grinned mischievously as he leaned closer to Aleph. "Greenskin blood," he whispered but everything about it was done in joking manner, not to mention Aleph's tongue couldn't taste any of the foul matter inside the drink. "Bits of the fallen enemy to strengthen oneself and all that!"

    "But superstitious nonsense aside," Cautorious continued, taking a sip from his own goblet and for a moment allowing the drink to remain in his mouth in order to savor its taste before he gulped it, "Hephestus tells me such things cause an echo or was it a ripple? Anyway, they ripple in some other realm and can indeed help us if we are careful how we approach it, least it backfires."

    "Still, I can't decide if I'd applaud our strongest witch for his ideas or skin him alive for suggesting me to steep so low that such obvious barbarism is considered normal, even encouraged. I heard you have a witch in your squad yourself, so you must tell me how in the world you restrain yourself from introducing him with that pretty sword of yours."

    Fighting below them started and that drove Cautorious' attention away from Aleph. Orks went after the swordsman in the center of the ring, but given how they were big and the room for maneuver was not that large, they shouldered each other on their way, each attempting to hit the legionary first. Swordsman on the other hand, met each of their strikes with a flashing parry and a counter-shove that connected with each of the Orks' head and forced them to land in the ground, face first. Emperor's Children laughed at the spectacle, now that the battle (if it could even be called a battle) started it drove most of them out from their drunken stupor and provided them with something to cheer for.

    "Anyway...victories you ask?" Captain nodded as he leaned back in the seat, removing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Yes, I had many on this station but none of them are worthy of retelling. Simply put, these alien mongrels are too dense to provide me with a proper blademaster to test myself and too cowardly to stand their ground once whatever passes as their officer gets decapitated. No trophies to collect either so I have to admit I let my anger get better of me - my acolytes filled couple of transports with the heads of the killed Greenskins and we sent them raining down on the planet below. Fitting way to end any hopes of them winning this war."

    "But enough about me. I want to hear more about you because you see Alephoros, your skill with the blade has caught attention of many legionaries, including myself. I have also heard good things from the cousins of the Eight which you served with meaning that this meeting simply had to come to pass. So tell me, where did you learn to fight, who was your teacher and what made you chose this path instead of remaining a fully tactical Line Brother?"

    Vulpas, dx144, Draconion and 4 others like this.
  2. Imperius matt23 Curator

    The trail had been long of the xenos body that had been laid waste to. Arnock could clear see many a precise cuts, as well as devastating blows, upon the green corpses. It was clear that Arnock was traveling in the correct direction. However, Arnock did wonder what exactly he was hoping to find. Truthfully, he was not even sure what soore of whom this warrior was as rumors could never really be trusted.

    Finally, after what seemed like an endless green trail, Arnock laid his eyes upon the one called Kenjiro. The terminator had just violently ended another life of the broken Orks. Hearing this terminator champion address Arnock in such a way caught him off guard slightly, however; Arnock did not hesitate to answer. "Where there is yet fighting to be done, so shall be the standard of the Third," Arnock said as he thumped the standard pole on the ground. This was an answer Arnock had grown accustomed to giving. An answer that forgoes his own identity for that of a standard bearer, but perhaps this was why he searched for Kenjiro. Arnock's head dropped a moment as he thought briefly and then spoke in a slightly frustrated voice, "Truthfully, I believe what I just said is the reason I am here. I feel slightly lost as to who I am amongst our ranks. Though I fight like any other would, under this standard I feel as though I am not myself, but instead an extension of the pole in which it hangs." Realizing he had just vented slightly without even hesitation, Arnock sighed before speaking once more, "Forgive my frustration and rambling, brother Kenjiro. I just search for more than just what holds this standard upright."
  3. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    "The only voice in my head is my own Elymas, and it shall remain that way until my duty is done and death takes me. No more, no less." Netherborn, more mysticism, superstitious titles for simple Warp xeno. Extrovious forms the aquila in salute to the Librarian, offering him that courtesy before making his leave.
    Draconion, Jorimel, Colapse and 2 others like this.
  4. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Meet the New Boss, Same as the Old Boss?

    Aleph looked at Vitaly in surprise of his own at his response, but before he could do much more than open his mouth to elaborate on his reasons, Apox crashed through the conversation he himself had initiated like one of the damned Greenskins and the brotherly discussion was no more.

    It would not have crossed Legionary Aster's mind to disagree by means of such an inflammatory metaphor - which he kept strictly to himself - were it not for the sheer brute ignorance of the man in front of him. Apox he knew to be unsubtle and crude in his application of politics, but he hadn't figured the man for the sort of baseborn cur who strikes the very workers on whom his life depends. With no Cult Mechanicum, there was no doubt that the Crusade would not be as effective as it had been, even had all its worlds and Legions benefitted from the Phoenician's technical expertise. And in any case, striking the help was the act of one without manners or decorum. Aleph, whose poker face had seen some excellent development as a side effect of playing cards with the Bleeding Eyes, kept his facing front and centre and his reactions to himself. Just. The tremor in his limbs as he stopped himself from stepping forward looked like the jolt of surprise at the Captain's sudden movement.

    To Extrovious he said, "You know us, Brother-Sergeant. We will not let you down. We will follow you into the fire."

    "And you know I will match you glass for glass in celebrating your promotion."

    A Taste for Foreign Vintage?

    Aleph was interested in the combat, of course, but the immediate campaign of words unfolding in front of him was far more arresting of his attention. He considered making a mock-surprised face at the mention of the 'secret ingredient', but he considered the playful jest to be adequately covered already by the slight rise of his eyebrow as he sipped at the wine again.

    "Well, as for our witch, Captain, Brother Elymas has been assigned to us and so I bear it much the same as you do yourself, I would hazard to guess," he said, swirling the wine in his cup a little. "He perplexes me, but I have yet to see him falter in his devotion to our Gene-Sire." He did not want to say much more. Both out of loyalty and a suspicion that deflecting talk to the subject of Elymas would be branded unsubtle obfuscation. "And Night's Edge is too fine a blade to be raised in ill temper."

    "Would you care to examine the blade, Sir? I understand you to be a connoisseur of swordplay." He did not draw the sword until Cautorious should ask for it - certainly not in the presence of a superior officer of the Third. Playful quips or not.

    With the momentary distraction of the fighting - part melee, part brawl - he returned his attention to Cautorious as he swept back his hair and elaborated, a little, on his own side of the battle. He nodded as the older man spoke, not in sycophancy, but recognition.

    "Indeed? I understand that Primarch Curze himself employed a similar tactic upon a recent noncompliant world. My adopted Brothers told me the tale in some detail," he said, his recall of the story of the Piameni Compliance all too vivid. "He too found it most effective. Terror is the blade that lurks in every corner, poised over every heart, as the War-Sage said. Have you read much of Malcharion's work?"

    "It is a different way of fighting from our own, but as an aspiring blademaster myself I find it only proper to study how our fellow Legions make war," he continued, modestly this time with the simple truth. "If you have heard well of me from them, then I am doubly pleased to have made a good impression. I did not expect news of my work to have travelled from the Eighth, I will admit." He dipped his head into a small bow, informal as the conversation seemed to be. "Thank you for the compliment, Captain."

    "If I may answer the last part first, I came to know myself better as I served the Legion as a Line Brother, and that is the command of the Phoenician I learned first of all - to know myself, so that I might become better than I am. My time in the dark halls of the Midnight Clad held a moonlit mirror up to that insight. Wield the blade, or die by it, that was a favourite saying of my host squad." Or the claws, Lucoryphus was fond of adding, often with a tap of the same for emphasis and a condor's scream. Strange, how he'd come to reminisce about that sound from a mouth that somehow stretched passing for human.

    "As for where I learned to fight, that is a twofold answer," he said, settling himself a little more comfortably, looking around to see that they were speaking to each other alone - though he didn't fear anyone knowing what he said - before leaning in a little in his turn as if it might indeed be a secret. He looked down at his glass, then back up at Cautorious. "The first part is that I learned from my time as a citizen on Chemos, where I was born, and afterward with the Legion's overseers of the new recruits - what every Son of the Phoenix learns; but I refined my craft with my Brothers, most particularly Martyn and Extrovious, as I remember you saw so many years ago now. And Sergeant Sidon. He is an excellent teacher. I might be an adequate Line Brother, Captain, but others perform that task as well or better than I. As a swordsman, however, I believe that I have a chance to excel and it is my duty to seize it. To do otherwise would be to betray my principles and those our Father taught me."

    "The second is that I learned to fight where I also learned to dance. I am Sulpha, Captain, on my mother's side, and my grandfather taught me some of the dances which he said were the only proper occupation for men. Along with fighting, of course. They were, I am told, capable warriors. Perhaps it is in my heritage to be a swordsman."

    "Do you dance, Captain? I hear that you are a man of culture, of course, but I do not know what manner of expression your artistic side takes."
    dx144, Draconion, Colapse and 3 others like this.
  5. Introductions
    First grapping the arm of Arnock, "Aye brother it has been much too long". @matt23
    "Alephoros Aster, Aleph for short, i will try to remember brother, i will not do you dishoner," @Jorimel
    "With the genetic touch of our great sire it will take alot more than some measly radiation to take me down brother, worry not for me, only those who oppose us," Denatus said with a smile, "let not my aperance fool you i am as vital as any of us." @dx144
    "though i say its too early to cast my vote in the internal matters, im still honered to serve with you all" Denatus said as he accepted Extrovius arm, and the old warrior greeting @DeranVendar
    Denatus accepted Jendons hand shake, "Let my armaments be the bane of our foes brother," he said as he also nodded greetings to the two last members of the squad, two other speciealists from the look of it, atleast the squad would be very tactically flexible with this kind of setup, a glorius future must await them.
    dx144, Uriel1339, matt23 and 4 others like this.
  6. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    Dark Machinations

    "Observe," Thales points at a nearby screen before he starts manipulating the cogitator interface, Vitaly knowing that the Senior Techmarine was accessing some battlestation's inner system that he slaved to his will some time ago. Taking couple of moments for the grainy mess to stabilize, younger Techmarine sees a wide hangar area, filled with many different Ork aircraft and their deadly cargo. However on the other side of it where an exit into the void was supposed to be, stood a metal wall...which as Thales inserted his command, started opening up.

    It was no wall, but a huge maw of sorts. It spread its jaws quickly enough and with a press of a trigger and with speed much quicker than it should, started pulling the aircraft towards it. It took only couple of seconds for the entire room to fasten to its doom and the insides of the maw were covered in miniature explosions as the vessels were swallowed whole.

    "Now comes the fun part," Thales said and another set of commands were pushed in, the system obeying instantly. Maw started glowing in sickly green as whatever technology controlling it started working to complete the order. Suddenly, the former aircraft that were destroyed mere moments ago where now spitted out, compressed in slightly smaller objects than they initially were, there were launched out of the maw flying at super-speed. Little was there to be said for the rest of the hangar as it was completely obliterated by huge projectiles, Vitaly easily understanding that the damage done surpassed normal calculations.

    "Machine inside of the jaw is unlike anything I've seen before and I've seen quite a lot in my day to know this is special," the older legionary unplugs himself from the console, allowing Vitaly to interface with it should he so chooses. "Simply put, it can manipulate the weight of an object, within certain parameters of course, but enough to increase it tenfold if needed. This is only a prototype, schematics that I've came across support your theory that they were building something way bigger on the planet below. But I think we've put a spanner in their plans by taking these battlestations ourselves."

    "The real question is however, should we utilize this weaponry ourselves or not?"


    Finding a worthy challenger

    At first, Kenjiro didn't pay much attention to Arnock's story, the warrior busying himself with collecting heads from the fallen Greenskins, or at least what remained of them. However as his words became filled with more and more frustration, the Terminator started eyeing him suspiciously, apparently not too happy at what he was hearing.

    "Perhaps this is a better topic to be discussed with Chaplain Chemosian or one of his acolytes. Too bad Leonis has neither in this Millennial, instead he chooses to harbor witches," Serpent's Son spat on the ground, the acidic saliva burning through the floor. "But I'll help as much as I can, as brother should help his brother."

    "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you knew Ancient Rylanor, who gave you this standard before he was entombed. This standard is one of the most important pieces of our history and as long as it's in one piece and floating above the din of battle, Emperor's Children can never be broken. Nor can we disappear and be forgotten like those two misbegotten Legions were."

    "I'll not dare to assume what the Ancient of Rites or our Father thought when they approved of your new calling, but perhaps they were preparing you for a bigger role than you understand. Because who better to collect and preserve the tradition of the Third Legion than the warrior carrying her symbol and make sure the spirit remains intact?"

    @matt23 ( @dx144 )

    Silent Lake

    "Helmet pict-feed returns only static. I've already given it to Thales to check it out and he said Machine Spirit of their power armor is in similar condition like they are. Completely dormant," Hephestus said after hearing what both Elymas and Jendon had to say.

    "Caestus ram was destroyed in the subsequent bombarding of the station which brings me to my final point. I also think boarding it and finding clues at its source is the best course of action, however I must remind you this is no easy task. Battlestation that Captain Minteril's forces tried and failed to conquer is blown apart by our guns and its remains are a floating wreck. In any other scenario I would be against it, but given how we already came across advanced Ork weapons, having something like this in their armory to act as a surprise for us during the assault on the planet below could turn out be catastrophic. Lupercal would have our heads for this if we failed to act upon it, not to mention our entire Legion could suffer as well. So get your gear and await for me in the topside launch decks, I prepared a transport that will bring us to our destination."

    Two hours later Hephestus, Jendon and Elymas were travelling down the length of a broken leviathan, ever deeper into its gaping belly.

    There were only three of them, the crew of their Stormbird consisting of only Mechanicum's servitors and slave-pilots. Apox had no legionaries to spend on chasing phantoms and Chief Librarian didn't even bother asking, instead he used his rank that allowed him some autonomy when it came to following orders to decide this operation was a go. So here they were, slogging through the dark with only their lumen globes and shoulder-mounted lamp-lights as a companion. They followed the directions written down by the Custodian Guard but the area was in such terrible condition that traversing the landscape took them better part of a day but eventually they reached their destination.

    Deep within the bowels of the broken battlestation lied a lake. Its waters were pitch black and it spread far, making its far side edges impossible to tell in the dark, equally impossible as telling its depth. From the report, the Emperor's Children were found in the shallows close to the entrance, where at the moment was nothing but metal floor. "Spread out and watch your six, I sense something is amiss," Hephestus said via squad vox, like others his power suit completely sealed off to prevent any foreign tempering. There wasn't much to start with, but perhaps this was a clue unto its own.

    @Vulpas @Uriel1339
    Vulpas, Jorimel, dx144 and 3 others like this.
  7. Uriel1339 Uriel1339 Lord of Posts

    ~~ Silent Lake ~~
    @Colapse | @Vulpas

    "It is ironic, isn't it?" Elymas said to both Jendon and Hephestus, looking around in their vehicle as they traveled. "If you think of both, the Master of Sanctity and the Chief Apothecary. There are men left and right ready to kneel before them and swear fealty, to serve without question to their fullest extent." He relaxed, leaning back. "But if you are the master of a few dozen witches. Scout for them, recruit them, train them. Then you seem to lose more everyday." The Lexicanium chuckled and shook his head, looking over to Hephestus. "You should have been born on Prospero, sire. You are the shepherd of sick flock."

    His voice gave away that it was not in ill-intent or to mock, but rather to allow to philosophize as they traveled. After all, what was an Emperor's Child without the ability to take a step back from the situation and analyze it critically. Rather than get all frustrated about the path one is stuck on, like a World Eater or Space Wolf might be.

    Once they left the stormbird and got on with their walk through the craft he was quiet and attentive, expecting shadows to leap at him from any corner. Only when they arrived, Elymas relaxed a little bit. Hephestus warning was fair, but unnecessarily obvious. Like warning one that the food might be hot as it steams before ones eye.

    "Considering the apparent absence of life. We might need to bring another... Light to reveal what lies before us." Elymas said with a smirk behind his helmet, thumping the staff onto the floor, charging his psychic energy into the primary gem of Phoenix's Resolve to bring out a spectrum of unnatural light to maybe reveal new clues. Or what he truly anticipated, that the liquid would react to his powers. If this... Liquid truly is part of netherworld experimentation, then it would show itself in an instant now.
  8. dx144 dx144 Well-Known Member

    "Glad to hear it brother, I'd hate to another of the Legion pass too soon, may we slay the foes of the Emperor together for years to come." Pholax smiled thumping his fist to his chest in salute to his new battle-brother.

    Pholax said little following the pathways with Arnock, it was clearly a scene of carnage. Not like what would have happened if the Eaters of Worlds had come through, cuts were too clean and was from the glances done at the Orks minimal effort put into the kills, a slash here, a slice there.

    Whoever killed these Xenos, they'd found them completely unworthy of his attention.

    It was only then finding someone, a Terminator of all things stood taking heads from the Greenskins.

    Pholax had seen ghoulish behaviour in the past, some warriors who'd collected various body parts as signs of kills or being interested in their shape or formation, usually it was apothecaries who were looking to find some new weakness in a foe.

    But sometimes there was a warrior who had taken like this one, to taking heads. Rather barbaric, Pholax thought. If you wanted proof of a kill the head was the best show of that, not like you're going to find one identical to it. A few of the World Eaters had apparently taken to taking skulls of those they deemed worthy in fights. A Warboss, a Xeno chief, whatever it maybe, provided it put up a good fight.

    This wasn't like those World Eaters, this legionary was just collecting skulls for the sake of it.

    "Why are you taking this filth's heads? Just burn them." Pholax stated, rather unimpressed and more cautious around such a strange warrior. "And they say this is the breaking of the Orks, why else would the Emperor, beloved by all, be here to intervene directly? This will be a battle all legions present will speak of in the coming years. That we stood here by his side when he cast the Ork Empire to the void." Pholax seemed rather disinterested in this warrior, seemed to want to find a way to be different to his brothers and therefore unique, maybe he was the same keeping to his World Eater teachings, he did stick out like a sore thumb when lined up with his squad.

    "Can't imagine that the Chaplains are implemented yet, only a certain few can do their job, I don't understand why we'd take advice from a Legion like the Word Bearers, they're more preachers than warriors." Pholax mused, his mind wandering.

    The latter half of the conversation was lost on Pholax, the Ancient was of course a legend, but he'd be like a child saying what he'd heard about the legend rather than knowing him. He listened in silence, maybe Arnock knew this marine as well or this Astarte just knew of Arnock and was jealous of his standard, the special standard than means more than other standards because it is special. Pholax smirked at that, standards are just standards, don't let them fall, each one is important not just this one over another.
  9. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester


    "So we understand each other. Excellent," Apox clapped Extrovious on his shoulder, before smiling in agreement. "And I've seen that the rest of you made your introductions already. Good, you'll need to bring Denatus up to speed as soon as you can, from what I gathered, we'll be joining the main assault in just couple of days."

    "So take this time to get to know the new squad better and don't let me hear you slacking," Captain now addressed Denatus personally, eyeing him a bit before turning away. "Alright, this is settled. Now move along, back to your designated areas and get on with your assignments."

    OOC small reply for everyone attending "new sarge voting" meeting, no need to reply to it but I just wanted to wrap that part up in case anyone was waiting for it.

    Tests, tests and more tests

    "Bah, that's what you think but believe me, I've seen these witches at their absolute worst and trust me, it is better to have a beginner with a blade guarding your back than the best psyker out there. Sooner or later their merry bunch will cause a mess pretty smiles won't be able to erase and mark my words, then we'll have a reckoning," Cautorious grunted, his mood turning more sour with every word he spoke concerning Legion's Librarians but thankfully Aleph knew how to get him back on the track with the offering of his own sword for inspection.

    "Let me see...ah yes, smiths of the Eight Legion were never renowned for their swordcrafting abilities, they simply lack the proper flair and patience for it," he continued on as he took the sword from Aleph and ran his thumb down the edge of the blade, drawing a tiny line of blood."However, they know how to make a weapon that can murder you in the best way possible. Also Night's Edge? Pretentious and counterintuitive if you take in consideration our own name and origin but it could be worse. As for the sword itself, it's good enough, if you are satisfied with slaying criminals and stabbing real opponents in the back."

    "This is what you need, a proper blade of the Third," Cautorious returned the sword back to Aleph and took one of the swords on the seat next to him. Significantly longer than Night's Edge but at the same time slimmer, from the side it looked as a narrow line of silver that could kill you without you even noticing it. The sword in question was elegant and deadly at the same time, the true weapon fitting its wielder. "Every legendary sword has a name but since I'm yet to bloody it, it remains unnamed and for that matter, unclaimed. To be honest, I prefer carrying a halberd or some sort of a polearm. Nothing beats the range and trapping your opponent thinking that you are on the defense, then quickly switching into offense and proper decapitation."

    Below, the battle ended up abruptly as the swordsman grew bored of the clumsy Orks and proceeded into killing them all, cutting two at a time with practiced swings, using "dance moves" that were similar to Aleph's own technique. Crew booed a bit but seeing as the legionary below couldn't care less about it, they turned their attention away from the carnage and went back to drinking.

    "As I was saying," Captain of the 26th took bottle of wine and refilled both of their glasses before taking another sip as if to confirm he was drinking the same thing, "Ultimately it's up to you but if you ask me, you need something better than that. So that brings us to the reason why you are here."

    "Let's put aside the war stories you might have from your service with the Night Lords, there is only one among them who could fight any of us in this room and live to tell the tale, so they are irrelevant. Training you received with Sidon is also irrelevant - as much as I respect your Sergeant due to being one from the older generation, he always lacked the proper ambition to advance further. Did you know Fulgrim initially considered him to be the Captain instead of Apox? That big bull is good for breaking walls and storming castles, but not much else. Sidon on the other hand, possessed everything a good leader needs except guts to admit his own failure and grow stronger for it. If I was to answer it, I think the Proximan Betrayal broke him and he never recovered from it."

    "Here's the deal young legionary," finally it came to this. Cautorious turned to face Aleph, his purple eyes strangely focused despite the wine, "I see much potential in you but it can go both ways. You can either continue to be tutored by the lesser warriors and eventually you'll get your own squad to lead, maybe even one day you might become a Captain yourself. But none of it will help you to match the skill of the true masters of the sword and one day you'll be bested by someone better than you."

    "Or, you could take the other option and become my apprentice. Road will be hard, lessons unforgiving, you will never become a Sergeant and others might look at you differently as you will become a member of a brotherhood that few can join. But you will replace it all with getting closer to complete the quest we all have, the search for perfection given by the knowledge of the blade. Ancient philosophers called it the way of the warrior but while it has some semblance to this, I'd rather call it life of a perfect one."

    "So," Cautorious once again leaned back in his seat, allowing Aleph some room to think. He also became accutely aware that all the eyes in the room were upon him, around twenty Emperor's Children looking at him now.

    "What's it going to be?"

  10. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member

    Spitballs From Mork

    Vitaly watches in sober thoughtfulness as Thales demonstrates the function of the Ork superweapon. Perhaps cruder in application than he had expected..though, knowing Orks, he should have expected something this crude. Nevertheless, the power of the plundered alien technology gave the threat a scale and magnitude that had to be taken seriously.

    "Rather a lot of effort to go through to create, essentially, a shotgun the size of a planetoid, don't you think, Brother Thales?" mutters Vitaly as he interfaces with the alien machinery.

    His pupils dilate as his enhanced mind dives into the Orkoid cyberspace, striving to make sense of the data organisation, all while fighting not to go mad from the sheer insanity that is Orkish logic.

    "Yet," he continues, his voice now a monotone, a sign of deep data immersion, "That it can actually manipulate mass and momentum independent of each other indicates extremely fine control of subtatomic phenomena. This is not so unlike the Dark Eldar technology from all those years ago, if perhaps even more advanced. But I can work with this, and we can find uses for it. If we took a more finessed approach, we could turn this into a precision mass driver. A kinetic-kill weapon is, of course, the most obvious application, but imagine the potential for troop delivery - we could deliver ships and troops across the system and to any point on a planet's surface with almost the same speed as teleportation, and none of the dangers. It would also make for exceptionally precise munitions placement, should we desire to place, say, a tactical atomic charge on a very specific target."
    Jorimel, Uriel1339, Colapse and 3 others like this.

Share This Page