OOC Thread Current Characters: Chaplain - Apothecary - Devastators - Battle-brothers - The Lost Brethren NPCS
Missions: The relief of Hive World Strec, Ultima Segmentum In To The Abyss The Maw Opens Wider A New Day, A New Problem Basic premise: For reasons unknown, the Salamander vessel Orison of Nocturne is crippled during a warp jump and, after an incursion by daemonic forces, crashed back in to real space in an unknown location. Left as the sole survivor's aboard a crippled space marine vessel, the men of the Salamanders second squad, third company, must find their way back home. As the marines investigate their new surroundings they come to realise that their vessel has crashed in to a space hulk--a huge conglomeration of broken ships, which floats in and out of the warp. With time limited before the hulk's next warp jump, the marines must work to find a way out before they're lost to the horrors of the immaterium. Mission One The relief of Hive World Strec, Ultima Segmentum There is many a tale of the deeds orchestrated by The Emperor's Space Marines. Heroism and bravery in the face of any adversary is so common among the Astartes that they have become commonplace. But on occasion there is a brother, or indeed a squad, whose deeds are so great that they live on forever--immortalised in legend, men spoken of in the same breath as the greatest warriors ever known to the chapter. The men of the second squad, third company of the Salamanders chapter are one such example. Their story begins in the dark void of space, where men are but a speck of dust and whole worlds die, and are reborn, in the bat of an eyelid. For ninety-seven days second squad--under the command of Sergeant Threlvar, aboard the Orison of Nocturne--had patrolled the vast space along the far reaches of the chapter's home system. A rare time of relative peace had befallen the sector and the marines had not seen action in near five months. That was, at least, until a vox communication came through: from the captain of their company, Captain Agatone. ''Priority transmission,'' Agatone said, his voice distorted through the vox link. ''New orders have arrived from the chapter command. The hive world Strec has come under heavy attack from the Orks. The defence force there has been overrun, and now millions of Imperial lives are at risk. We have been ordered to make our way there with our fullest haste, and to hold the line until Imperial Guard reinforcements can arrive. Sergeant Threlvar?'' ''Yes, captain?'' the sergeant said, leaning in toward the hologram of his captain--his polished green helmet held at his side. ''The rest of third company are already en route to Strec, but your vessel is the closest of our fleet. You will be the chapter's vanguard. You are to proceed to the hive world and secure the Imperial Guard fortifications which surround the Hive City itself. There is an Ordo Xenos Inquisitor by the name of Leogan on his way to your vessel as I speak, accompanied by his retinue. You are to rendezvous with, and transport, them to Strec. The Inquisitor wishes to see the Ork attack for himself. You are to keep him safe, is that understood?'' ''Yes, sir,'' Threlvar said, nodding to his superior. ''Very good. Agatone out.'' With that the transmission came to a close, and the hologram disappeared. The sergeant stood upright, stepping away from the console. All around him the bridge crew of the Orison of Nocturne watched on, awaiting their new orders. ''Shipmaster?'' the sergeant said. ''Yes, milord?'' the man said, standing to salute as he was spoken to by his superior--whilst the shipmaster commanded the vessel, the Astartes commanded him. ''Tell your men to expect company.'' ''Very good, milord,'' the shipmaster said with a nod, despite the fact he had heard the transmission too. ''Second squad,'' the sergeant said, through his vox comms. ''Gear up and make ready, we shall be undertaking a warp jump before the day is over.'' Mission One Briefing: Whilst the ship awaits the arrival of the Inquisitor, you are free to socialise with each other, or with the human crew. Alternatively you may spar in the sparring rooms, use the firing range, pray in the ship's temple-shrine, prepare/maintain your wargear, socialise with your serf, sleep, eat, or whatever you want at this point. Notes: The marines may begin wherever you wish (except the bridge, engine room or armoury). The vessel is a standard ship, Gladius class, and has the usual features of a marine vessel. Particular highlights include: the bridge, training facilities (sparring room, firing range), the armoury, the hangers, your personal dormitories (which is where your personal serf will be, as well as your equipment/armour if you are starting off not wearing them), the mess hall, the temple-shrine and the ship's observation decks. The crew of the ship will be making preparations for the warp jump, and for the Inquisitor's imminent arrival. Most of the crew are humans (chapter serfs), but there are numerous servitors too. The majority of the crew will be at their stations, either manning a vital part of the ship, running through last minute checks, or praying that the warp jump doesn't eat them alive. As Astartes there is little of the ship which is off-limits to you, but the armoury and engine room are kept sealed and under armed guard--with nobody permitted to enter unless under the sergeant's orders--at all times. Please remember that neither the ship's crew, nor the marine squad, are newly formed. Characters shouldn't really be reacting as if total strangers to each other, especially not after three months aboard the vessel together. There's still plenty of room to get to know each other, through whichever means you deem fit. As the vessel's commanding officer, the sergeant will be on the bridge--should anyone wish to speak with him. The chaplain and apothecary are advisors to the sergeant (despite the chaplain outranking him in the grand scheme of things), and were not installed aboard the vessel with the intention of them leading. This mission isn't intended to last long and is designed for you to use to develop yourselves, or learn each other's characters. I may provide some further hints about where to go, should the need arise.
((OoC: Since it seems as if we're set on the Sons of Vulkan, I suppose I'll write up a short post!)) Tsen'Tal rose from kneeling within the ship's shrine, his prayer leaving his lips at a whisper. The blazing red eyes of the Chaplain looked upon the shrine with reverence and fervor, his prayers and reviewing of the God-Emperor's holy word having moved what was human within him. It was one of the few moments of silence the obsidian-clad Astartes could afford since the Company had left Nocturne, the duties of the Reclusiam's Chaplains keeping him busy with little true time to reflect and find deeper meaning in the teachings of their father, Vulkan. This was not necessarily how the Shrine should have been, empty of all save Tsen'Tal, for none wished to have their faith suspect beneath the skull-faced visage of his kind. Yet it was a relief for the Salamander, to at last have peace. A knock at the door. A sigh. "Come in, Enja." His serf entered with bowed head, it was one of the reasons Tsen'Tal had chosen the woman as his aide. She was devout, respectful, quiet, oftentimes she was able to give profound insight when the Chaplain himself was stumped, addressing to the moral dilemmas of the Brothers under his care. Oddly enough there had been few visits to confide in him since he had chosen to join Second Squad in the advance, patrolling the halls silently, a foreboding figure. So it was with a voice that just barely reached across the chamber to where the Chaplain stood, that the Nocturnean informed him of the latest development, "My lord, a person of import will be arriving soon. In case you wished to be present." "Thank you, Enja." A few minutes later, Tsen'Tal emerged from his quarters with Enja in tow. His armor now equipped and his skull-faced visage observing the halls, the Chaplain began to patrol the ship while opening up a line of communication to the squad leader, "Sergeant Threlvar, who is coming aboard?"
Having received nutrition and thanking the crew for the best they could prepare, although they were regular protein meals - created after an Astartes needs, he headed over to the training hall where he would ensure his Power Armors machine spirit was on his side. Zhu Li'ang knew that a body had to be as much conditioned as ones mind, so he stepped in one of the empty sparring areas of the room and performed unarmed martial art routines. All the various maneuvers, techniques and tactics one could employ in the deadliest of all situations. Unarmed and in the heat of melee. It was especially tension he tried to relieve this way, having problems to remain calm once an enemy is too close, he ought to extinguish those flames by being better prepared. One could learn to control himself completely. The others could, and so would this Salamander learn one day. Although through the two hundred years of service, the flame seemed to only be fed. Not starved.
A firm knock sounded across the combat cages as Sho'nohak planted his knuckles to the wall several times to catch Zhu's attention. Garbed in a simple body glove for training as opposed to the full panoply of his armor the Salamander watched him. "Brother, care for a match. Been too long since I faced a comrade and it seems you've energy to burn, could use a worthy challenge. " Crossing his arms the Astartes stood half a head shorter than his comrade but was substantially broader, built much like a bull Sauroch the cattle beast of Nocturne but with a generally tamer temperament.
The last routine was finished and the Salamander breathed deeply out before turning to his brother. "Sho'nohak, you know I am getting carried away in melee combat, therefor I assume it was a playful invitation? Or do you want a good excuse for knocking one of your brothers out to demonstrate your skills?" Zhu Li'ang replied as he made his way over to his brother, crossing his arms once he arrived before him. In comparison, Zhu was just half a head taller, though he himself was just average. Luckily in his opinion, for being too large would mean to be an easy target, too small would earn him mockery. He liked himself as he was, save for the lingering flame
"The hottest flames are but the swiftest to temper don't you know? Wouldn't say a knock out but a fight less tame than the norm sounds like a fine order. What do you say? Fully unarmed first to five sound strikes? " The ashen grey line across his left eye wrinkled up some as he grinned, his one and only face brand and a mark of great honor for any Salamander. Pre-combat branding was one of the many components of the Promethean Cult their Chapter adhered to and only Veterans of the Chapter ever earned the right to receive a line across his face, even then by that point the rest of the body was criss-crossed by dozens of such marks.
Scytella prayed in the chapel, as the codex dictated. He prayed for the strength to fight the enemies of man, the power to stay on the true path and the wisdom to know when to strike and when to hold. The young marine sighed and got up, that last skill had so far been denied to him. Even though he had gone through training as devastator, assault and tactical marine, yet still he charged in to combat and put himself at risk or held back and failed to crush the enemy. He arrived in his room and began the rites of maintenance for his armour, they would be on a mission soon and everyone had to be ready and machine spirits placated. Scytella went to the firing range next to make sure his aim was perfect. The salamander took aim at each target and, with studied efficiency, put one bolt round through the vitals on each target. After reloading and taking his breath the procedure was repeated until he fired three bolts into each target with barely a stop to re adjust aim. OOC:I know it's pretty weak but it's midnight here so I'm not thinking clearly.
-Yager Yager Took a deep breath as He slowly Turned to page in his tome. He rad slowly taking in the knowledge the Of the Codex astartes. different tactics, different maneuvers, and even different fighting styles all quiet useful to know. He slowly sat there reading his Red eyes scanned each page taking in all he could. Most marines by now would Have it already memorized by heart But he found it might always be useful to Rehear things over To reacquaint one self to it. He had soon heard over the Vox speakers of the sergeant A new mission soon Interesting. He would have to get equipped. He bent a small page of his code astartes to mark where he was as he got up he closed the tome and looked to his serf. "Felix Please watch over this For me while I am Gone. I must equip my self for my next mission." he said handing His serf the tome. She took It with both Hands and began to take it to its correct position as he Began The Process of putting on his armor. He slowly began the rites saying each Of the machine spirits Chants As he put on his armor. Soon enough he was fully equipped. His armor was mark 4 Various Imperial runes were inscribed over the armor from The marines who wore it before him and possibly the ones before him. He had inscribed a few of his own runes into the armor. The armor It self was green and Like the color of his chapter and decorated with the Flames Of the salammander. The last thing he had was his helmet. He grabbed it and equipped it to his belt and began Heading towards the chapel in the ship
"Now you say five, before we are done we will have dealt at least ten bouts upon each other." Zhu Li'ang laughed and placed his gauntlet on the shoulder of his brother. "Though I already am full clad, I do not truly desire to anger the machine spirit, as I promised already that I won't put this armor off until our next assignment is over. And if there is one thing a Salamander should do, then it is taking promises serious." Within his helmet he grinned, glad to use the truth as an excuse to not fight his brother. Despite being a standard thing to do, the bare thought of fighting his brethren - Even for training purposes - was an impossible thing to imagine.
