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The Black Crusade | Group 3 | After Action Report

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by Freke, Nov 28, 2013.

  1. Freke Freke Subordinate

    Planet: Harad
    Capital City: Gol’gatha
    Location: Nestled on the edge of the Eye of Terror

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    Harad, a planet lost to the Ruinous Powers on a date long forgotten, lashed by the energies of the warp and tortured day in, day out by it’s twisted inhabitants. Though the planet was covered in vast, beautiful planes, the city of Gol’gatha was nestled in a barren warp-touched wasteland. Gol’gatha was undoubtedly conquered by the chaotic forces of the Dark Gods, cultists, heretics and all manner of worshippers of Chaos go about their twisted business in the streets, gathered underneath a banner of absolute worship hoisted by a fat Slaaneshi Governor whom reigned in the subservient nobles and courts with promises of Slaanesh’s pleasures. In the shadows of the fat governor’s courtroom, a towering figure stood covered in a pale cloak which concealed his powered armor from the prying eyes of the cult leaders around him, he watched on as the aforementioned cultists carried out an incredibly dangerous ritual in the name of the Dark Gods.


    Argus rested his hands on the pommel of his power sword that stood from the ground, a weapon he had held onto since his days of the Crusades before the Horus Heresy. The blade had seen a large amount of combat, taken the lives of humans and xenos alike, but none today would guess its blade had lashed away at anothers flesh. The sword had been a reliable companion to this warrior, and as such its continued servitude to him was greatly appreciated. The power field lay dormant at the moment, awaiting the moment that Argus would use the weapon in combat. The pale cloak draped over his armour, the Mark IV Maximus variant with a short plume on the back of his helmet. The armour was ancient and showed his original loyalties prior to becoming a wandering vagrant in the servitude of Chaos. Its faintly grey armour with a green tint, along with the symbol of an eye embedded on its shoulderpad that was beneath the cloak would show he was apart of the Luna Wolves, which became the Sons of Horus after his primarch achieved the title of ‘Warmaster’.

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    He still remembered those days, the days of blind loyalty towards the Emperor of Mankind. He still remembered the days of butchering foes in the name of the Imperium. He still remembered realising his loyalty was never to the Emperor, but to his son Horus instead. He remembered swearing his loyalty to the Warmaster, and rebelling against the Imperium. He remembered the combat on the planets of Istvaan, killing his own brothers that still sided with the Emperor be they of his legion or of others. He remembered ‘Holy’ Terra, sieging the Palace of the False Emperor. He remembered the death of his primarch, the failure of his legion. Now he was among the other shadows of the fallen legion, though he knew his legion was and still is one of the greatest. He did not colour his armour black after Horus’ death, or accept Abaddon as his leader. No, for Horus may have died, but he still is Argus’ father and those who claim to be of Luna Wolf, Sons of Horus or of Black Legion shall agree with him on that. There was no point in his eyes of mourning his death, only to progress forward and to live and die for Chaos as they had all agreed on during that great heresy.
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  2. Freke Freke Subordinate

    His eyes settled on the bulging mass of fat that is Governor Taggot who sat on a marble throne that had seen better days. Upon the obese governor’s knee sat the slender, seductive form of a Daemonette of Slaanesh. She giggled at the words that manage to escape the colonies of fat that nestled in Taggot’s lips, though whether or not Argus heard them, or even wished to hear them, one could not say. Both seemed to be staring at the ritual in the center, as the psykers loyal to Taggot engaged in their ceremony. The entire process was a method of attempting to communicate with the warp to receive further direction for their campaign of spreading the influence of the Dark Gods. Argus himself questioned many things in this situation. He questioned the idiocy of the cultists, the zealous devotion each cult leader had to their chosen god. He viewed their devotion as flawed, for he betrayed the Imperium with the other Sons of Horus to unleash all of Chaos upon the galaxy. He also questioned why a worshipper of Slaanesh was still so fat. Obviously he was not favoured by Slaanesh, though the daemon could hint otherwise. However, appearance of daemons meant little of favour from their respective gods.

    The shifting of movement caught his attention when the door swung open. From the doorway entered another traitor astartes, one in black and red power armour. He did not recognise the colours as any major legion or warband, and dismissed trying to assume an origin for them.
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    Almost as soon as this one had appeared in the room, another astartes stepped forth. This one, was incredibly obvious as to what he was and where he was from. The blood-stained power armour that once was white and blue, the markings of Khorne, the two chain weapons. A World Eater, a berzerker.
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    The World Eater had his gaze fixed on the pudgey form of Governor Taggot, who shifted uneasily at the attention he was receiving from the superhuman in bloodied power armour. Finally, the World Eater demanded to know what was happening. Almost as if on queue, the entire room began to shake violently, and a red ritual-like glow from the floor the psykers had been on pierced through the gloomy setting of the room. Argus shifted his position, next to one of the columns of the room to minimise damage to himself, though he had confidence in his power armour protecting him a significant amount.
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  3. Freke Freke Subordinate

    Almost as quickly as the earthquake began it vanished once more, the light fading as well. Where the psykers had been, they were now gone. Governor Taggot, whose marble throne had been situating close to the ritual either due to coincidence or sheer idiocy, had made it through. Half of him at least. It appeared that he had most of his torso removed, along with anything about his chest. All that remained on the marble throne was a stomach and a pair of legs. Argus also noted the daemon has vanished too. The silence of the room was noted, the other cult leaders looked about in confusion, as did Argus and the other two astartes. Whatever had happened here was not visibly apparent in this room, though outside would give him the answers to his confusion. However, his walk towards the door had been halted by the astartes in black and red power armour who barred his way. “You! What happened here? What was the purpose of this?” He demanded of Argus, though before he could respond, a loud crashing sound was heard behind them. Argus pried his vision away from the black and red astartes in the direction of the crashing sound. The World Eater had apparently walked straight into one of the columns. His original opinion of the World Eaters had been altered slightly. Their usefulness really did only restrict them to combat, since it was clear without an enemy in front of them they were unable to operate and navigate around objects. Finally, he decided to answer the question of the other astartes. In reality, he did not know at all what was going on either, though the assumption the other had made of him resulted in his answer. “Magic.” Argus stated before he headed towards the door. As if to reassure himself of his superior combat prowess, the World Eater lashed out at a Slaaneshi cult leader with his chainsword which cleaved the lesser man in two. Suddenly, the sounds of war erupted all at once from the outside world behind the walls of the courthouse as Argus swung the door open. It seemed the ritual had done something after all. Either Harad had changed landscapes rapidly, or they had been teleported onto a different planet entirely.
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  4. Freke Freke Subordinate

    Planet: Hadria Prime
    City: Draelos
    Planet Location: Koronous Expanse
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    After a moment of looking around from where he stood outside the ruined courthouse, he concluded that the Dark Gods of Chaos had seen it fit to transport a section of the city of Gol’Gatha, and have it swap places with another. Argus glanced down at the ground and noted the sudden change of terrain was quite notable. The other two astartes emerged from the courthouse and looked about in confusion as well as they tried to make sense of the situation. As they did this, a voice called out towards them. “Welcome to Hadria, Dark Ones!”
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  5. Freke Freke Subordinate

    Group Information
    Argus: Pre-Heresy Son of Horus Chosen Astartes. Equiped with a Power Sword and Bolter.​
    Mikhail Bloodrage: World Eater Berzerker, equipped with a Chainaxe and Chainsword. Larger than the average Marine.​
    Fang: Traitor Astartes Chosen, equipped with a Power Sword and Bolt Pistol.​
    Varketh: Idolitrex Magos, equipped with a Fallen Magos Power Axe, and LasCarbine.​
    Governor-General Khagra: Former Governor-General of Hadria who now leads the group and their cultist allies. Equipped with a LasRifle, Chainsword, and Bolt Pistol.​
    Other Information:
    Currently we are taking turns writing the story through each characters perspective. This first post was done through the eyes of Argus, the Sons of Horus Chosen. The next session will be written most likely through the eyes of the Magos Varketh.​
    Far more happened in the first session, but due to length, we took the rest and we're writing up part 2 to Session 1, through the eyes of the Magos Heretek.​
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  6. SonOfLorgar SonOfLorgar Well-Known Member

    Awesome ! The teleportation of the place into another planet was a genius idea. Im really interested in the berzerker , seems like a fun guy to hang out with! Now , i think we will be posting our own AAR soon , plenty of stuff happened in our side of the galaxy^^
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  7. Freke Freke Subordinate

    Chapter 1 Part 2
    The tall, dark skinned man approached the trio of Astartes. It was apparent that this man had once held a high position of power among the Imperium, and that of the Imperial Guard. The man stood at a sturdy 6 feet 7 inches, and was incredibly muscular. “Heresy spreads and the Adeptus Astartes shall descend upon us sooner or later and our Gods have answered our prayers! so I say again, Space Marines! WELCOME TO HIVE-WORLD HADRIA OF THE IMPERIUM OF MAN! A WORLD AT WAR WITH THE FORCES OF CHAOS!” He then proceeded to unclasp his bolt pistol and fire it into the air as a sign of happiness. Varketh on the other-hand, had a million and one other things running through his brain. He stood in silence as he studied the traitor marines before him. Shifting his cold gaze down to the rest of the new city, he questioned how they managed to achieve such a feat. Transportation of an entire city across the Immaterium and Real-Space is quite an impressive one. While Varketh was lost in thought, the group was exchanging greetings and names.
    One of the traitor marines extended his hand towards the dark skinned human. A Chaos Astartes who shakes hands? Varketh was more confused than fascinated with this one. And he also bore unmarked power armor. “A pleasure to meet you.” He said, extending his hand. But, his pleasantries fell upon deaf ears as the dark skinned man waved off the hand-shake dismissively. One would imagine this angered the traitor marine.

    Another one spoke up. This time, it was the hulking bloodstained marine, who dwarfed the other two by a clear margin. Perhaps he was a World Eater? His size and description matched. He will definitely have to be looked after. Varketh was worried about him and how easily they fall prey to their own twisted instincts. He introduced himself as Mikhail Bloodrage and added that he had come to slay the weak. Typical behavior.

    Finally, the last one spoke up. However, he was different from the others. His armor was well kept, his weapons looked pristine. He obviously took better care of his visage than the others. When he spoke, it was not towards the human or the other marines, but towards the change of scenery. “It seems the Dark Gods have placed us in harms way, so be it.” Varketh studied this one more intensely. He was a Pre-Heresy Son of Horus. Varketh had read about the Great Divide between Humanity all those millennia ago, as well as the various Legion’s that took part. It was fascinating to him, that he has remained relatively unchanged since then.

    “An honour, Dark Ones. I am Governor-General Faustus Khagra, though I have no reason to use that title anymore, the corpse-worshipping morons of this planet have decided to oust me from my former position, now I lead a rebellion, if you will. Heretics and mutants stand… Or stood, with me. That is until…” The man gestured towards the brand-new city which replaced his prior stead. “Me and my accomplice from the Mechanicus,” He gestured towards Varketh with a pause, “We were returning from an assault to the spires of this, our hive-city. It is named Draelos. However I digress, We have struck the Imperium of Blindmen, they shall not be abated for long, I must get you debriefed and prepared for glorious battle. Now, whom was the leader of this place before it was… Moved?”
  8. Freke Freke Subordinate

    Still, Varketh stood in silence. His cogitators and machinery could be heard clearly enough to warrant him being half machine. After the pleasantries had ceased, the Son of Horus spoke once more, “You’ll find soldiers inside the building, as well as half a fat-man.” He continued, “The city will be housing others that will most likely serve your plans, assuming they survived the transportation.” He glanced down at Khagra’s sidearm for a brief moment, before turning to Varketh. “I, am Argus.”

    The trio of marines began to talk amongst themselves. Khagra disappeared into the building shortly before returning. He commented on how useless the cultists were, mocking them even. He then turned to Varketh. “Magos, do you have a Servo-Skull? I require a tactical layout of the city to plan for this coming battle.” The Governor-General went on, but fell upon deaf ears. Varketh simply unlatched his Servo-Skull and tossed it into the air, before it took flight and began surveying the city. The tactical readout of the city was being fed directly into his HUD. Varketh had removed his eyes and replaced them with bionics some time ago, which allowed him to receive data from his Servo-Skull instantly.

    While Varketh was going over the tactical data, the group were talking amongst themselves. Varketh was concentrating on directing and analyzing the data, and not paying attention to the discussions. However, Khagra’s words broke said concentration. “There is a Space Marine Chapter coming here, after all this place has a manufactorum.” The traitor marines began to question when they would be arriving. Varketh interjected, “Our current estimates put the Sunseekers at roughly 3 weeks away. However, this number is subject to change due to the unstable nature of the Immaterium.” Varketh went back to analyzing data after he had finished speaking, continuing to ignore the conversation.

    After a while, the Servo-Skull had finished its brief sweep of the new, warp-transferred city. Varketh uploaded the information into a dataslate and handed it over to Khagra. As he did this, the Berzerker seemed to have had enough of the talking. He yelled in rage before running towards the nearest sound of lasfire. After all, the group had teleported into the middle of a warzone, there was combat everywhere. Mikhail had ran off, his roaring chainaxe held above his head. The other two marines had followed. Whether out of bloodlust, or an attempt to keep Mikhail in check, Varketh did not know. Varketh and Khagra both went their separate ways. Khagra went on to rally the populace while Varketh retreated to the industrial areas of the city. While Varketh whipped the workers and slaves into an efficient industrial machine, he also was monitoring the group via Servo-Skull. This allowed him to keep updates on the group and witness the traitor marines usefulness.

    Before too long, the group encountered their first prey. A small entourage of Khagra’s Renegades were pinned down by Loyalist fire.

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    Mikhail wasted no time running straight into the thick of it. He bellowed in a rage and ran up towards the guardsmen before they even had a chance to react. Mikhail’s chainsword severed the limb of the frail Human and he yelled in agony. The rest of the guardsmen were in utter shock at what was going on. “Traitor Marines!” one of them yelled out, before frantically unloading his LasGun wildly in the direction of Mikhail. The rounds pounded his armor, but not a single one managed to phase him.

    The squad of Guardsmen that the group had encountered numbered ten, nine after one lost his leg. But at this moment in time, the other two marines joined the fray. Argus, rampaged into view, Power Sword held high. He took another guardsman by surprise, and the Power Sword cleaved straight through one of the unfortunate guardsman’s head. And then almost as if on queue, Fang charged into view, his Power Sword drawn. He charged another guardsman and swung his sword in an upward arc, severing one of their legs, and biting into the torso of the body.

    Currently, things were looking incredibly dire for the group of guardsmen. Three were already dead, and they were split between Renegade fire and Chaos Astartes.
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    The rest of the guardsmen fell rather quickly. Either being cleaved in half, or dying from blood loss. After they had finished with the first group, rescuing the Renegades, they proceeded further into the hab-center of the hive city. From there, they came upon more Renegade squads and Loyalist forces. Each met the Traitor Marines with the same surprise and fear. Each encounter, ended up the same way. After a couple hours, the corpses of Renegade and Loyalist guardsmen littered the streets. Limbs lay separated from their bodies, others slumped against broken walls dead or dying.

    Just as they were finishing up combat, Mikhail began to delve deeper into his devotion to Khorne. In one encounter, Mikhail tore the head from one of the guardsmen’s bodies clean off its shoulders. Mikhail then began to fasten a chain of heads, devoted to Khorne himself. Not only this, but he began to arrange the corpses of the dead guardsmen in the shape of Khorne’s mighty symbol, offering the altar to his patron god Khorne. This surely rewarded him with the favor of Khorne and soon word spread amongst the Chaos held city, now named Khagran Hold.
  9. Freke Freke Subordinate

    Additional Information:
    -We made up a chapter so we could sleep well at night. We didn't want any of the groups actions to destabilize current lore or destroy a well-known chapter.
    -We're also bending rules slightly. Currently if one of the players deals equal to or more damage than the current targets wounds, they insta-kill them and we allow them to execute them in any way they see fit. However, this will change as harder and bigger enemies get introduced.
    -The events of the previous post are going to run alongside the next part, as the group was split up (and will continue to split up a lot over the course of the campaign) with the CSM doing choppy things and the humans doing chaos-y things. The next post will be about how Khagra and Varketh fortify Khagran Hold, as well as the moments leading up to a large battle.
    (Also we forgot to tell Argus that he starts with a bolter, so that's why he was using a power sword the entire time.)
  10. Matobar Matobar Moderator / Keeper of the Light

    Moved to the RP thread because it is :cool:

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