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Perfect Warriors

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

  1. dx144 dx144 Well-Known Member

    As the fist broke his armoured shell, warnings intoned within significant damaged detected, one rune after another. The lack of pain within him still was surprising, it was just the sights in his tomb and the feeling of being moved by the kinetic energy.

    Hearing the curse, Pholax couldn't help but feel what remained of his blood boil, the Ancient believing he had already won, this, once glorious warrior of the Emperor fallen further than man ever should have, whatever madness possessed him, he would end and silence his foul tongue.

    Seeing Bodvarr charge, now his chance arising, placing his fist in the way, letting the other living dead impale himself, noting it making full penetration, tearing out vital parts of the live support system and as his own sensors confirmed, the engine of the other dread was critically damaged. Pulling his powerfist out, the close range assault cannon spooled up, then the sound of round after round penetrating the open armoured shell. The sounds of it exploding within, more and more of Bodvarr's tomb failing to sustain itself. Pholax paused as he saw the tomb itself slide out, the fighting of other dreads, the long dead brought back was his job seeing as he was also a dead man.

    As he looked at the actual dead man, trying to continue on, even as his death caught up with him. Pholax lowered his powerfist, "Find peace in eternal death, Cousin." Pholax spoke with his speakers at a louder volume than normal, wanting the Death Guard to know their ancient was defeated. As the fist hung above Bodvarr, a stream of flame poured over the now toasted and actually dead corpse.

    As the flamer ended and Pholax moving his vision back to the field, as the lascannons struck his damaged form, more and more warning symbols arising, knowing this was a position, he could never hope to hold, more and more armour, the figure or titans in the distance. As much as it pained him, they needed to retreat, regroup and prepare and to do that he needed a distraction and a breather from attacks.

    The lifeless shell of Bodvarr was still whirring along, it's generator primed for a slight bit more damage and there could be a fusion reaction. Without waiting or wanting to ask, Pholax sprayed another jet of flame over the lifeless shell, and began a defensive retreat to the rest of his squad.

    OOC:
    All actions used for defence on self and to escape the blast of the remains of Bodvarr's dread shell.
  2. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member

    Parthian Shot

    +++Incoming Superheavy Unit; Assigning designation = Stormlord #1+++
    +++Exloading new directives to Stormlord #1, stand by...Item #1-asfasdlkfjas!@@!$@)!@#)!(@!!!010110111001101011+++

    The sudden burst of collimated plasma catches Vitaly entirely by surprise, slipping underneath his augur readings and real-time prognostications amidst the escalating scale and concomittant chaos of the battle. The impact of the thermokinetic shock, the searing heat and the EMP all serve to disrupt both his augmetic circuitry as well as the native meat of his mind.

    Staggered and confused, he is left easy prey for the full assault squad that dogpiles him and begins battering him into naught. Even then, he manages to fight back, squeezing the skull of one to jelly with a servo-arm, while his lightning field discharges its full payload into another, frying him to charred wreckage inside of his armour. But numbers tell, as they hold him down to rain down blows upon him. Heavy boots hammer down repeatedly upon his helmet, causing integrity warnings to flash upon his HUD as even the finely-engineered impact dispersion shell begins to fail. Chainswords are worked between the articulated plates of his armour, seeking seals to grind away, while bolt pistols and other, worse, weapons are pressed right up against his plate to be discharged point-blank.

    Like a summer storm sweeping away the dead heat of a drought, Yabuqa and his arban swoop in to save the day, scattering the Death Guard like a lightning bolt dispersing a murder of crows.

    "My thanks, Yabuqa Darga," comes Vitaly's terse voice, crackling with distortion through damaged voxmitter systems as the White Scar helps him to his feet.

    Not wanting to be carried through any fight, Vitaly joins the rout of the XIVth Legion assault squad, exacting vengeance of his own as his systems reboot from the EMP attack. The V.O.T.E.C. blaster roasts two Legionnaires alive in their own armour, while the Lightning Field stops three in their tracks with uncontrollable convulsions, leaving them easy meat for Yabuqa's men to scythe down like wheat. The vampiric touch of the Null Ray drops the squad sergeant just as his jump pack fires, dropping him five metres like a stone to crash in an undignified heap, practically at Yabuqa's feet.

    Already casting his perspective beyond that brief, desperate altercation, Vitaly notes the results of his last round of orders and personal actions with grim satisfaction. Despite the increasing desperation and clear unwinnability of the overall battle, at least things are well-positioned for an orderly retreat. The total loss of Javelin Flight is regrettable - in both materiel and skilled, experienced battle-brothers - but such is the price of war. Firing up the grav-engine, he fleets low across the battlefield, taking care to keep cover between himself and the enemy as much as possible, as he heads to his latest prize - Stormlord #1. Just as he is about to land, Kul's vox update as to the state of the void battle comes in, and Vitaly immediately recalculates his entire battle plan with a view to one solitary goal - getting every man and machine in the Millennial back to the Sovereign in one piece.

    +++Unit Stormlord #1+++
    +++Objective #1: Fire mission - XIVth Legion infantry, central mass+++
    +++Methodology: Vulcan Mega-Bolter, set ROF = 15600 rpm+++
    +++Objective #2: Fire mission - XIVth Legion Primarch+++
    +++Methodology: Lascannon, L + R sponsons, full-duration burst+++
    +++Objective #3: Commence withdrawal towards extraction point+++
    +++Methodology: Reverse gear, maintain speed 20km/hr+++


    A terrible smile spreads beneath his scuffed, battered faceplate as he turns his new acquisition upon the Death Guard and their Primarch. Nothing quite like applying maximum pressure to your enemy to interfere with his own shooting. Vaulting atop the hull to cover behind the turret bustle like the breastwork of a trench, he draws a bead upon the Lord of Death with his Entropic Disruptor, tracking his movements as he duels with the Khan-of-Khans, deceptively swift amidst his ponderousness.

    Here's something to remember me by, you traitorous whoreson.

    MIU signals customise an entropic waveform to rattle the Death Lord's teeth and bones inside of his armour, not to mention predisposing his weapons and armour to jam, misfire, lock up or generally malfunction. An MIU trigger-impulse sends a beam of exotic energies ravening towards the spectral figure in dirty white, seeking to engulf it in a field of jarring vibrations and tech-frying EMP.

    Even as he indulges his vengeful malice upon the person of the XIVth Primarch as well as his sons, the greater part of Vitaly's consciousness monitors the greater battlefield with calculating exactitude. Spotting Pholax in a state of significant battle damage despite having won his duel with the Death Guard dreadnaught, he immediately signals his subordinates to rectify the situation.

    +++Units Perseus, Khashayar+++
    +++Objective #1: Fire support mission - covering fire, designated recipient = Venerable Pholax +++
    +++Methodology: Weapons free, engage according to situational need+++
    +++Objective #2: Field repair, recipient = Venerable Pholax+++
    +++Methodology: Ad necessitas+++
    +++Objective #3: Maintain overall momentum rearward to extraction point+++

    The two subordinate Techmarines blurt their compliance in binharic as they race low across the field towards Pholax. Khashayar skids to a halt and leaps off to land practically right next to Pholax to begin administering emergency repairs, rerouting damaged systems, shutting off leaks, cementing cracks and applying field armour patches to ensure the dreadnaught walker survives to make it to extraction - all while moving at a walk to match Pholax's pace, his jetbike set to float beside him on autopilot. Meanwhile, Perseus supports from the skies, gunning to a higher altitude to strafe corridors through the surrounding infantry with the prism laser cannon set to wide-angle mode.

    Turning an eye to Aleph and Arnock, he sees them far in advance of the main force and isolated, battling Mortarion's remaining bodyguard.

    "Storm Eagle Flight #1, this is Forgemaster Vitaly. Requesting fire mission on Traitor Army main mass - immediate execution."

    With the Storm Eagles inbound to take further generalised pressure off friendly forces, he then signals Archimedes to make pickup.

    +++Unit Archimedes+++
    +++Objective #1: Fire mission - enemy Predator+++
    +++Methodology: Alpha Strike, all prism laser cannons, calibrate for maximum armour penetration. A+++
    +++Objective #2: Advance on Aleph + Arnock, effect pickup and extraction to rear+++
    +++Methodology: Maximum ground speed, rolling embarkation with U-turn to conserve momentum+++
    +++Objective #3: Fire mission - XIVth Legion Terminator+++
    +++Methodology: V.O.T.E.C. Cannon, incineration mode+++

    +++Compliance. Advancing to extract designated units+++


    Archimedes' reply comes simultaneous to the bright spears of laser light leaping from the Herald's sponsons towards the enemy Predator, before the Land Raider's engine guns. Tracks churn the battlefield mud as the vehicle bounces its way towards Aleph and Arnock. The add-on turret tracks its target - the sole remaining Deathshroud. Fire stabilisation systems keep the weapon on-mark through the savage jolts and bounces of the vehicle's high-speed approach, while its barrel begins to glow a bright orange as it spools up to wipe the Terminator off the face of the galaxy with a magna melta blast.

    @Jorimel @matt23 @DeranVendar @Grall_Stonefist @dx144

    "This is Forgemaster Vitaly to all points. Word from the flagship - the void battle has become untenable. I am calling for immediate extraction to orbit before our escape from the system is cut off. Repeat - immediate extraction. Beat a fighting retreat to the extraction zone now. And someone go dig the witches out of whatever hole they have wound up in. If they are not at the Stormbirds by lift-off, we will have to leave them here or the entire Millennial dies on Ios."

    Even as he speaks, his neuro-augmetics network with his augurs and threat assessment cogitators to fine-tune his battlefield analyses and interventions. Running partially independent of his conscious cognition, his micro-missile system whirs, the nano-foundry assembling, first, a pair of thermex-based melta warheads, which are then sent arrowing towards the remaining XIVth Legion Predator, arcing sharply up before descending at a near-vertical angle to burn through its vulnerable turret roof armour. Evidently, Vitaly doesn't trust Archimedes' shooting, given both his track record with the lascannons as well as this particular Predator's stubborn streak of sheer dumb luck.

    Vitaly's eye lights a moment upon his ammunition inventory, spotting the pair of phosphex warheads he pre-loaded upon learning they were due for a fight with the Death Guard.

    No point taking ammo back home when there's a good use for it.

    Twin warheads are loaded and fired in rapid succession, sent flying into midst of the infantry mass nearest Aleph and Arnock to detonate at knee height, shielding friendly forces from the initial phosphex detonation with the mass of enemy bodies and buying everyone in that area some breathing room from the constant offensive pressure of sheer hostile numbers.

    Almost as an afterthought, seeing the Herald's state of abuse, Vitaly dispatches a rustling swarm of micro-drones to flit after it and triage the worst of the damage, giving the redoubtable vehicle its best chance of surviving to make extraction along with his two squad-brothers.

    Command Actions

    Orders/Requests

    Archimedes/Herald:
    #1: All-out attack - Prism laser cannon strike @ Predator Destructor
    #2: Standard attack - V.O.T.E.C. Cannon strike (melta mode) @ Deathshroud
    #3: Pickup Aleph + Arnock and fall back

    Perseus
    #1: All-Out Action - Fire support @ Pholax + Khashayar
    #2: Fall back once repairs are complete
    Khashayar:
    #1: All-Out Action - Field Repair @ Pholax
    #2: Fall back once repairs are complete

    Stormlord #1:
    #1: Standard attack: Vulcan Mega-Bolter strike @ Death Guard infantry
    #2: All-out attack: Sponson lascannons x 2 @ Mortarion
    #3: Commence fallback

    Storm Eagle Strike Element

    Target: Traitor Army infantry

    Personal Actions

    1.) All-Out Action: All-out attack @ Mortarion w/ Entropic Disruptor (Shield Overload, Warp Destabilisation, Haywire, Concussive)

    2.) Standard Action: Standard attack @ Predator w/ Micro-Missile (melta warhead)

    3.) Standard Action: Fire Support @ Aleph + Arnock w/Micro-Missile (thermobaric warhead)

    4.) Standard Action: Field Repair @ Herald w/Utility Drones

    5.)

    Threat Assessment Matrix:

    - Standard Action: Standard attack @ Predator w/ Micro-Missile (melta warhead) (1 re-roll)

    - Standard Action: Fire Support @ Aleph + Arnock w/Micro-Missile (phosphex warhead) (1 re-roll)

    Null Ray charges this turn: 0

    Augur Array: Squad Targeting Mode Active

    Entropic Disruptor Tunings: Shield Overload, Warp Destabilisation, Blast, Armour Corrosion, Haywire, Concussive.

    Logistics

    Special ammo: 2 x Kraken, 1 x Metal Storm (bolt pistol)

    Explosives: 2 x plasma grenades, 1 x haywire grenade

    Micro-Missile ammo

    Standard Charges: 20/30
    Special Warheads: Stasis x 1, Cryo x 1, EMP x 1

    Other Gear: Combat Shield
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  3. Imperius matt23 Curator

    Arnock's body kicked into overdrive as the warm, familiar liquid began to fill the inside of his suit from the Deathshroud's scythe. And just as he could feel his body begin to deal with the pain, felt the impact of a fist collide with his helm causing it to break and pieces to be driven into his face. This brief excess of force against his face caused a ringing in his ears that within seconds began to fade, only to give way to a new problem. The one side of his helm that was still fully intact began to relay a vox cast from the orbital fleet above explaining that the battle was lost and hope to escape was fleeing by the minute. It had become a dark time indeed in which the loyal had to continually retreat in the face of traitors, but the hope for change was still in hand so long as the loyal still drew breath.

    Arnock opened channel to his retinue, "Brothers, converge to my location and prepare for immediate extract via teleportation beacon. We shall be the last of our loyal Millennial to leave the service and we shall make it a show indeed." Without a word spoken in return Craven, Mathius, and Rulduan came to his side to form a somewhat close defensive perimeter. Arnock then opened up a vox channel to Vitaly as he activated his teleportation beacon for the ship above, "We shall be evacuating via teleportation, brother. Do not wait for us."

    As soon as the vox cut off, Arnock shook off the cobwebs from his last encounter with the traitor and charged right back in with his powersword at the ready. It was his last chance to show that even the most power traitors were no match for the loyal sons of the Emperor. The last chance to show that, even with the odds stacked, that hope was still alive and breathing. Arnock quickly lift his powersword up at an angle in an attempt to upon up the guard of the traitor, before two quick slashes were directed at the hulking mass' throat. This aim to be remove its head for all the traitors to see in the last moment of battle.

    OOC: Teleportation beacon has been activated to return to the ship above.

    Arnock Retinue: All Out Defense to hold the defensive perimeter before teleportation is activated.

    - Legion's Master: Arnock can chose an enemy as his next opponent. Arnock gets a bonus attack against this enemy in addition to his regular moves and re-rolls first miss against him. If the enemy falls beneath 50% of his starting HP and Arnock scores a crit on him, he will instantly kill him and it works on bosses as well. In addition to that, once per combat phase Arnock can use the inspiration provided by the Legion's Standard to chose one of the friendly chars and give him buff for the duration of combat that makes enemies unable to score a crit on him.

    Actions - 3 attacks with power sword to Deathshroud (1 to chest and 2 to throat). 1 Defense on self.
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  4. Fox Vulpas Well-Known Member

    Jendon fell back against a wall with a harsh crack, the apothcaries Visor flooding with all types of warning and alert runes, He felt energy being drained from himself as he got back up, Clearing his visor he began move towards Elymas Chainsword in hand as it began moving to defend the Chief apothecary as he moved. One certain old rune came up caused the the apothecaries twin hearts to stop caused a new surge of adrenaline pump through him as he activated most of the chemicals had had to purge his system into a dump, if that was true he might not make it out alive by his or the other hands.

    Getting to elyamas's side he injected him with a shot of combat drugs to keep him on his feet. "Not sure how much more can take." Jendon said his voice raspy and low. "Got a bunch of chemicals needed if we are going out gunning should melt the bastards." He added to Elymas at least he knew if he fell there was some back up ammo on him so he could cut his way out with the storm seer.

    OOC One defensive on jendon, One Heal on Elymas and Jendon
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  5. Uriel1339 Uriel1339 Lord of Posts

    Death & Decay
    @Colapse | @Vulpas

    Elymas almost grunted upon the sight of the creatures burrowing through the ceiling. How many more? He thought to himself, not daring to impede on morale by saying such statement out loud. After unleashing such powerful spell his body rushed to new heights as his system flooded with adrenaline. His mind on the other hand started to become tired. Spell after spell while the constant rot ate away at flesh and attempted to invade his mind as well.

    It was Jendon's words and actions re-focusing the Librarian from swings at the closest foul beasts to a trained mindset. "Anything helps at this point. Yesugei is soon done, I can sense it. Just a little longer, old friend." Elymas said with a cracked smile, forcing it through the pain. Pain he is certain might have put a normal human into shock or coma long ago.

    Although he could call upon the White Scar, Elymas' pride forbade it. He was a Chief Librarian and would demonstrate the discipline of the legion that molded him. And his mind desired to be an iron stalwart in respect to the late Ferrus Manus. This was not about honor, but dignity. This was about earning respect and valor. Not only for himself but the entire surviving force of the Emperor's Children fighting for the throne.

    "Let us cleanse this pestilence." He said before putting his staff in both hands, the remainder of his channeled psychic force attempting to dispel the rot temporarily. No matter of the result, he would stand by Jendon and toss his last Plasma Grenade towards Festus before going into a defensive stance.

    OOC:
    Action #1 - Dispel Rot
    Action #2 - Plasma Grenade into Festus
    Action #3 - Defense on Self
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  6. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Aleph was embattled, but he was no longer alone. Fighting with the Standard Bearer beside him seemed to galvanise his resolve, and he fought with the speed and grace he had once been honoured to observe in the Palatine Blades of old. Scything blows were met with sweeping cuts of his own, taking the hands from the Deathshroud facing Arnock even as the latter began to turn the fight. Well, at least he can say he never let go of his weapon. It was a grim jest, but Legionary Aster felt it fitting. He felt the whistle and shriek of air as the pounding assault continued to punish their position. Every shot absorbed by the enemy was one that did not compromise their efficiency. There was a sudden blast of light and sound audible even over the noise of melee, the concussive force of incoming missile fire. Under his battered helm, Aleph smiled, recognising his old comrade Vitaly's work.

    Old comrade ... had it really been so long since that first, hopeful jetbike run, soaring over the skies like fledglings leaving the nest? War was no sport for old men. But time had passed, and so much of it. Alephoros could not spare a moment for melancholia, however, as he danced and leaped and spun and cut. There was an enemy and he had two blades. It was the best, simplest mathematics, life reduced to an equation with one outcome: death. Now to make sure it was someone else's.

    Aleph put his skills and blades to work. It wasn't the place for fancy swordsmanship, but his training over long years allowed him to make the most of his speed to counter his relative lack of stamina to the simple refusal of Deathguard to lie down. He made efficient butchery serve in place of finesse with the Deathshroud facing him, but his inner satisfaction was seared away a moment later as he took a huge cut across his chest. Ceramite screamed, chips of enamel flew everywhere like tiny stinging flies, power surged and cabling locked as he flew back and down. In the second he took to try to rise, weapons frantically parrying aside what he could, the shining reinforced cranium of one of Jendon's helpers arrived at last, darting in to help as Aleph blocked a strike at the nimble drone. Where he was about to feel the swiftly creeping malaise of ague and rot, he felt invigorated, cleansed. He leaped to his feet - still hampered by the injury, but uninfected - and was about to pile back into the fight when he heard a harsh voice across the vox, urgent yet still tinged with a certain bleakness. The Terran Raven, Nykar Kul. The battle in space had not gone well; they must evacuate, now or not at all. Aleph cursed, parrying a blow. Enemies died where he could make them but he had no means of effecting a speedy retreat. Fighting a rearguard action should be possible, but -

    As he fought to get closer to Arnock, who'd surely heard the summons and was gathering his men, Aleph felt a charge in the air, a strange tension to the surrounding melee. He half-heard Arnock shout something to him across the vox, but it was lost in a haze of static. Suddenly both the Standard Bearer and his honour guard were wreathed in the cold flash of a teleport and Aleph was left alone. Too buried in combat to protest, he dodged a backhand swipe and stabbed deep into the knee joint of another warrior with Daith'wyn. He couldn't have been left to die, surely Arnock wouldn't -

    Palatine Exemplar, this is Herald of Espandor, we have your location. Extraction T-45 Terran standard, be ready to board. Repeat, be ready to board.

    Aleph launched himself higher using the corpse of the fallen Nurglite as a ramp, boosting himself up while he trailed Night's Edge past the throat of another. He wasn't airborne for long, but his Astartes senses caught sight of a familiar silhouette bulling its way across a field of broken bodies and spent ordnance. He concentrated on making a path to its estimated trajectory, parrying as he was able. He thought of Brona, and how he'd have to carry on the tradition of the Palatine Blades if he died here. His breathing came fast and even, eyes darting from kill to incoming opponent to his hurrying ride.

    T-13 seconds, be ready to board.

    Alephoros reversed both swords and shoved his opponent like a schoolyard fighter, having no time for fancy footwork. He kicked as the man went down, and sprinted forward, He was blocked by the towering form of a Deathguard Astartes, and drew back Night's Edge for a brutal short thrust when he toppled forward, pinned to the knees by the whirring tracks of Herald of Espandor.

    T-0, immediate board.

    Aleph did not need telling twice. He dived into the open hatch, coming to rest in an undignified heap as the vehicle sped away.

    Welcome to Herald of Espandor. Please fasten your seatbelt and keep hands inside vehicle at all times. You may experience some turbulence as we run over our thrice-damned enemies.

    "Thank you," he said, to the crew busy driving flat out, shooting as they went, and to whatever mechanical proxy served as Vitaly's eyes and ears. At least he'd programmed it with his sense of humour.




    OOC: Two defenses using Defensive stance: Aleph gains a bonus defensive action and -1 on all of his attacking rolls.
    One attack using Utility stance: Aleph doesn't gain any bonus actions however he gets rerolls for all of his normal actions with no penalties.
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