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Perfect Warriors

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

  1. Imperius matt23 Curator

    @Uriel1339

    Laughing slightly at Elymas' book comment, Arnock nodded, "Indeed. I don't presume any books shall be making a break for it any time soon." The slight smile soon ran away at the mention of the order that had been passed through the ranks as of late in regards to the pyskers. Arnock let out a sigh as he spoke in a somewhat saddened voice, "I had heard the order being disseminated amongst our brethren. And I know this counts for little in light of such, but for what it is worth, I do not agree with it, brother."

    Arnock circled around Elymas a moment, clearly in thought, before speaking, "Are you not a member of the Third Legion?... There was a short pause before he spoke once more, "I will not hear such nonsense from you Elymas. You are foremost a warrior, not a pysker. And furthermore, you are of the Emperor's Children, which means that anything you put your mind to will be refined into a work of art. I have seen you in combat, and know that this warfare you are working on will be combat ready when the time comes to reveal it in battle."

    Looking off a moment, it was clear there was something on Arnock's mind. Something that hid behind every thought and word. The source soon came to light when Arnock spoke next in a heavy voice, "I had come here to share with you that I shall be having to take an extended leave of absence. I do not know if you had heard or not, but I have been promoted to Master of Rites. As such, I shall have to go to Chemos to oversee our wave of new recruits to bolster our Millennial to full strength. That is, after I make a short trip with the Sons of our new Warmaster."

    -------------------------

    @Colapse

    Arnock looked down at the drawing the drawing, taking in every detail. He could almost feel his own emotion in the picture. Almost as if it was not a picture at all, but instead a mirror. A smile came across Arnock's face as he looked up to the raven-haired woman and spoke, "This drawing is breathtaking. Truely I can say that I have met few with as much talent, even within my own Legion. Tell me, what is your name?"
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  2. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    Hook, Line, Sinker, Sold Soul
    Extrovious' face became brighter and a gleam flared up in each eye for a moment as Apox's what-if scenario and ensuing outburst of affection for their Primarch. The flight of fancy that followed in Extro's own head was near strong enough to make him shiver.

    "I have perhaps two or three brothers in mind that might fit the bill. Though if my intuition is correct, they will find their own way into these gatherings shortly. Everything you two have described to me sounds like a perfect brotherhood. My only remaining question is: when do we next meet?"
    @Colapse

    The Badge, the Banner and the Brotherhood
    "There shall be a million more such glories to be had before the crusade ends my brother. It is my intent that as many of us here now shall be there for all of them. Granted the lot of you might need heavier armor to keep up anyways." Extrovious casts a hand out to grasp Mathius' shoulder with all the firmness one needs to strangle an Ork, and none of the hostility. "And after this chat, perhaps I shall lead us to them for a bit longer to boot."
    @matt23
    A Popular Man
    "I am leaving my meeting with Captain Apox now, Brother Vitaly. I shall see you and Aleph in the Ratings' Lounge again?" Extrovious marched himself from Apox's personal armory and his meeting with the cousin captain wearing his broadest smile and most confidant rise of chin in a long time; all that and a pair of not at all inconspicuous new gloves...
    @Draconion @Jorimel
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  3. Uriel1339 Uriel1339 Lord of Posts

    ~~ Path of the Warrior; Simulation Range - "Sovereign" ( @matt23 ) ~~
    Elymas chuckled at Arnocks inspiring attempt of a speech and afterwards smiled brightly on the announcement that the banner bearer would literally train and educate new recruits. "It is good to see you in a role that is most natural to you, Master." The librarian emphasized the title in a playful tone, not to mock it, but among a close brother.

    "You have beaten Guillimans own at their game along with Captain Ezekyle Abaddon was it? I perused the combat report. So if anyone should know about realizing ones strengths and weaknesses - which you should in your new role of overseeing recruits - then it is you. You should realize that we need to cover ones another weaknesses, not add more to our strength. If I had a hundred swordsmen, all I would need is ten heavy gunners to pulverize them all." The librarians gaze drifted off to the ceiling.

    "We strive for perfection, for we are warriors of the third. But let me paint you a picture of comparison. The World Eaters are undoubtedly some of the best warriors in the Legio Astartes, yet they lack ranged weaponry. The White Scars possess speed and ferocity, yet they lack the maneuverability of the Raven Guard. Almost nobody can decimate a leadership and morale as the Night Lords, yet there is no discipline among their ranks in grand scale combat like the Ultramarines. Few understand necessary sacrifices as the Iron Warriors, yet they lack the compassion of the Salamanders."

    Elymas eyes went back to Arnock. "Where I am going with this is. I cannot allow myself to pursue you or Aleph in swordsmanship. Or Denatus nor Pholax in heavy armament. Neither may I attempt to become Extrovious' Protege. Instead, I must create something that you will want to strive for. And not just you Arnock, but all of our squad members. And after that, the company. And after that, the millenium. These." He lifted both custom bolt pistols up.

    "These are the first step on my path of the warrior. I will master this new aspect of combat and move on after I am satisfied with my talents. That is how one shall accomplish perfection. One step at a time." Elymas smiled brightly and putting his pistols back in their holsters to quickly write that down in a compact travel notebook.
  4. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member

    @DeranVendar

    "I'll be there, brother," replies Vitaly, strolling through the doors of the Ratings' Lounge with a jaunty step and claiming a booth to await his squad-brothers in.

    Just then, his datapad chimes, alerting him to an incoming message. Opening what turns out to be a missive from Perturabo, he scans it in silence before putting it down to stare at the opposite wall of the booth, full of mixed feelings. Coming to a decision, he composes his reply.

    @Colapse

    To My Lord Perturabo,

    I am deeply honoured to receive your reply, and likewise your summons to serve you. I will bid my brothers farewell today and inform my superiors as a matter of courtesy, and then depart on the first available transport tomorrow. I look forward to serving under you once again.

    Your respectful student,

    Vitaly Sokolovsky.

    As and when Extrovious shows up, Vitaly gives him an appreciate once-over before handing him a bottle of ale and saying, "You're looking dressed to the nines, Brother-Sergeant. Coming up in the world, I see."
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  5. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    Extrovious lays a gauntlet towards the bottle and briefly gives a goofy grin as it quickly becomes apparent he is in no state to handle anything delicate. Composure returns the grin to a friendly smile as Extro regards Vitaly.

    "Caught me on the way to the cages, had not expected to be getting a drink so soon after visiting the good Captain." Extro holds up his latest pair of weapons: a set of lightning claws with four long blades jutting out over the wrist and a fifth one anchored over his thumb that enjoys a bit more dexterity. When raised Techmarine is treated to the full sight of why this particular set is so bulky: there were Emperor damned chaincutters on the underside. "It has been a very fine day brother, what do you have need of me for?"

    @Draconion
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  6. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member

    @DeranVendar

    Vitaly lets out a low whistle of appreciation as Extrovious shows off his latest acquisitions.

    "That...is a Graia-pattern hybrid lightning claw, or I'm a monkey's uncle. Where in the galaxy did you get that? They're so rare they're practically mythical. Anyway..."

    Seeing Extrovious' state, he reaches over to pop the cap on the bottle for the sergeant. The hand-designed paper label on the obviously-recycled bottle reads:

    "The Headless Ork. Batch #12, 000.M31."

    "Have this one on me. Long story short - finally built a still that ought to be able to brew anything, and got it working properly. First successful batch of many, if I have anything to say about it. I really want Aleph with us before I take you both to show you the rest. Been busy while on light duties, ironically. So, tell me what's been up with you, Brother-Sergeant? You have the look of a man who's gained the notice of those in high places, as the old curse goes."
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  7. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    "In good company, to answer both questions brother. Given I was summoned to join Captain Apox in his armory not too long ago, I had assumed it a curse as well. Have to say, he's a lot more appreciable when you take the time to know him Vitaly. Still a bastard, but a brother among them." Extrovious catches the drink between the fingers hidden beneath the blade sheathe layered over his wrist and the more dexterous talon attached to his thumb. Admiring the vintage for a moment he starts to chuckle before resuming. "I met a friend of his, Captain Typhon from our cousins in the Death Guard. Interesting man, more likable than any of Mortarion's lot would normally let on. Actual business revolves around the fact Sidon will no longer be commanding us." Extrovious takes his first appreciative sip while that sinks in. He swishes the swill from side to side before giving a nod and taking another short drink.

    "Much to my initial chagrin, you lot are stuck with me as Sergeant until I die or am deemed incapable of command. Will of the Legion commands, no?" Another longer chug follows, bottle tipped up high enough that Vitaly can see the menacing twin grinders lurking in the shadow of larger claw-gauntlet. "Interesting mixture you've cooked up here. Put actual Ork's blood in it? Recipe from your time among Perturabo's trench heels?"

    @Draconion
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  8. dx144 dx144 Well-Known Member

    "Well he hasn't tried to rip your head off yet, so for all I know he hates you, Extro." Pholax laughed, finishing the last of his mixture the White Scar had brought. "It is the usual way a World Eater shows their affection, with a fist to the face here, a kick in the ribs there." Pholax trailed off looking around for something else to sample as he enjoyed the company of brother and cousins.

    "There a reason for Angron wanting to battle with the Lion, Vyre?" Pholax looked inquisitively at the World Eater.

    If it was the Lion and any other of his brothers, it could have simply been a brotherly contest of strength, but with Angron, no Primarch really tried to make relations with him openly, least of all the Lion. Pholax assumed that he might have said the wrong word to Angron or Angron said the wrong word to the Lion and so this was their way of working it out. There were worse ways, better to air out a wound than to let it fester.
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  9. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    The Dance of the Phoenix

    "There is ... no exaggeration in what you have heard of the Eighth," Aleph's voice was distant for a moment, a little quieter in its tone. "They are the Emperor's punishment made manifest and His judgement cannot be gainsaid. They do what they are sent to do and they do it - with a thoroughness bordering on devotion." He sat down, the portfolio between him and Arnock. Holding the canvas so he might look it over. Once his brother had done with his contemplation he rested it to one side with care. Lord Curze's image looked out without judging his painter. How true that made it to life, Aleph could not say.

    "My time with them was instructive and I learned a great deal. Not least of which," he said, making a conscious effort to brighten his discourse, "was the ability to move quietly, even in powered armour. I am no son of Corax, but I step lightly."

    Turning to Arnock as he spoke, Alephoros smiled. "There is no need to apologise, Brother, for the purpose of Art is to communicate and move the viewer. If what I have made has inspired you then I have wrought something of worth and that alone brings me much validation, even if I did not seek it." He dropped his gaze for a moment, looking down before returning eye contact again and speaking on. "Perhaps I am a strange sort of artist - I seek to share what I make with few, though I do not keep it in secret. And the times like these, when I receive the insight of my brothers, convince me that I am right not to hide it away. "

    "I believe you are entirely correct. There are differences between our Legions, the Eighth and the Third, but to deny that there is much common ground would be foolish. It simply requires an honest and open perspective to see it. We are both driven - they to prosecute the Emperor's Justice, we to find Perfection in all things. And they do seek the summit of what they can achieve. What is that but perfection? We of the Legions each strive in our own ways to emulate our gene-Sires and embody our Primarch's virtues. What you say is true. That it requires admitting that any other soldiers could be like the Third is probably where you're meeting resistance," he finished, grinning slightly for a moment. The pride of the Third was also legendary.

    "The belief that we can learn from another Legion is also likely to stick in a few throats, but I say let it. We can and should learn what they have to teach. Even if it be what to avoid, or how not to do a thing. But jests aside, I think that the understanding of our fellow warriors can only help us to work more effectively alongside them. How else can one explain our rapport with the Luna Wolves? We fought alongside them - it is not too much to say that we fought in the shelter of their wings, long ago now. And so we learned, and we thrived, and here we are."

    "On a subject such as that ... I believe I have been chosen to learn from the best. I have been approached to join the Palatine Blades, Brother. That is where I go tonight. If I pass that final test, we must celebrate. Our Brother Vitaly has something in mind, though I do not know quite what he has been working on ..."


    @matt23
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  10. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    The Phoenix Palatine

    Aleph had thought himself prepared, but he was not. As he looked up into the face of his gene-Sire he felt his twin hearts flutter and for a moment, he could have sworn that they stopped altogether. If it was true, however, it was the merest brush with death's wings before he soared, a fledgling Phoenix now reborn into the greatest of brotherhoods to which he could ever aspire. The miraculous sword, Fireblade, forged by Ferrus Manus' own hands for his beloved brother was a legend itself, but what it conferred was an honour beyond words. He was aware as a man in a trance is aware of other presences behind his Primarch, each a striking figure - Cautorious he knew, of course, the man had sponsored him into this brotherhood and Aleph knew that he would never forget him for it. Lord Commander Vespasian he had only heard of, though everything said about the man told of his skill as a leader and a battlefield tactician. The last figure could be none other than Lord Akurduana, a man whose skill with a sword was a matter almost of fable. Sons were still named after him on distant Terra, even when the recruiting grounds of the Third were mostly moved to Chemos, and Aleph had heard stories of the master bladesman even as he sat under the shade of a palm tree drawing the purple-armoured Astartes he had aspired to be. He bowed his head once more - slightly, because he knew that Fulgrim must have all of his attention for the coming moment - in acknowledgement of each warrior and the honour they did him.

    "Alephoros Aster," Primarch spoke and removed his sword from Aleph's shoulder, instead placing it in front of him, facing ground. "Do you swear to uphold the teachings of the Legion and give yourself over into pursuit of reaching the ultimate goal on the path of the sword? To become one with your weapon and use it to bring honor to your Legion, to me and the Emperor, beloved by all?"

    "I do so swear," Aleph said, his voice clear. "I will learn all that I may of the way of the blade, and seek perfection in its use. I will study the sword with devotion and diligence. I will bring honour to the Third, to you, and to the Emperor, beloved by all. Let this be my Oath of Moment and let it be written such that it never be erased."

    "Let this hour mark my devotion to this path and the pursuit of perfection forevermore."

    Even as the minute echoes of his words faded way, and Aleph felt the weight of the moment on his psyche, he was told to rise and as he did so his delight in the achievement could no longer be held down. He smiled modestly as he was handed the tabard to wear, but by the time it was belted around him he was grinning broadly in sheer joy not only at being made a part of the prestigious society but at the fantastic display of legendary weapons arrayed in front of him. And he was to choose one. No mere gift could compare to this. He was to choose not only a sword, but a symbol, a representation of his aspirations and everything he strove to be.

    As such, when he looked over the ranks of finely-crafted swords, and his eyes ran over the rows of weapons both barbarous and even alien in manufacture, he knew what he sought. Not even the brooding presence of the blood-dripping blade he remembered from so long ago could sway him. Indeed, it was still a frightful thing, but surely better corralled here than loose amid an unsuspecting populace for anyone to find. No, he knew what he wanted, for the silver blade had haunted his dreams ever since Cautorious had shown him. Aleph reached out with reverence for the deceptively simple curve of a Charnabal sabre, the damascened blade a symphony in elegance. A dancing partner with which he could make the music of battle a paean to Fulgrim's teachings and his own desire for perfection in this and all things.

    "I know you already have a weapon but the tradition demands you pick one on the day of your initiation," Fulgrim explained as he waited Aleph to make his decision. "These are the items from Palatine Blades personal armory so take your time, just know that while every single sword has a history of its own, it's nothing compared to what it will achieve once you start wielding it as your own."

    "This blade is all I have ever wanted, Sire, and it sings to me. If I may take it, I will seek to make it a new history as glorious as our future." In that moment, nothing seemed brighter to the young Phoenix with the fire of the stars in his eyes.


    @Colapse
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