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They Cometh From Iron

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by DeranVendar, Mar 11, 2017.

  1. Redthirst Redthirst Eternal Battles Moderator

    Dodging yet another attack from a chainaxe, Arrauth hears the voice of his commander. Despite the circumstances, he still had to reply, at least to give an update on his status: "Yes, Sergeant - it's armed with a Chainaxe and is trying to kill me". Forced to stop talking due to another bolt coming dangerously close, Scout realizes that there's only so many times he can dodge before being killed. The choice was simple: fight or run. Arrauth chooses a mixture of the two, pulling his Bolt Pistol and moving back the way he came from. The only advantage Arrauth had right now was the fact that all entrances in this building, be they doors or holes, were large enough to let the Scout to run through them. His enemy could easily destroy any walls, but it still took some time to do so, which might just have been enough. Plus, he might be able to see what happens when a Krak grenade explodes inside a confined space of an already almost destroyed building. Hoping that his heightened senses didn't fool him, Arrauth fires behind himself as he runs, aiming at where he things the Assault Marine is right now.

    OOC: Dodging, half-action of Bolt Pistol attack on Assault Marine, running in the general direction of the Krak trip-mine.
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  2. Talvisota RuinaImperii Active Member

    This…

    In all honesty, this was all just a tad more complicated than Barron expected. He stared at the array of buttons and controls on front of him before jumping to action, hands and eyes reduced to simply finding something that seemed somewhat familiar. The boy was reminded (painfully so) that communing with machine-spirits was most likely a task best left to other, but this was no time for introspection. No, it had come down to the wire, and now it would be time for the machine-spirits to suck it up and lend him a hand.

    He’s sorry.

    He didn’t mean that.

    There would only be time for a single guilt-ridden recital of the rite of activation before the time for action came. The Thunderhawk was the most obvious target, of course, and while the legionnaires were a worrying sight, Barron hoped that by blasting the bird out of the sky, perhaps he’d draw their attention away from their current prerogative for the time being.

    An instant and forever later, a beep alerted Barron that the cogiator had done its work. The scout’s voice crackled through the vox for a moment to deliver a curt message as the assault began. “It’s duck season, Sarge.”

    OOC: all out attack on thunderhawk
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  3. KnightReborned WanderingJester Well-Known Member

    Arming an impromptu demolition charge out of spare grenades proved difficult, even more so for someone with one arm, but Aridan got it done, more out of necessity than talent with explosives. Taking cover after triple checking everything, he called out to the rest of squad "clear!" before hitting the detonator. The beautiful sound of a boom caved in one of the entrances just in time for the enemies to start appearing. Picking up his bolter with one hand, he heard another boom when one of their traps exploded on a servitor.

    Turning, Aridan heard the announcement from their Sergeant while he aimed down his sights the best he could. Seeing his brothers engage the more dangerous single target, he turned his sights to the crowd of mortal traitors and damned rushing the communications hub and began squeezing shots from the cover Charon made. Aiming to thin it down dramatically, the scout quietly thanked the Emperor he didn't have to get into another shootout with an astartes.

    Aridan wouldn't mind dying if he could take the traitor with him, but without all the implants or power armour, that seemed unlikely should he get into another fight with one of the traitor legions.


    OOC: Balanced attack on Horde with bolter. Defense on self.
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  4. Tiro stood up from where he was crouched, brushing off his hands from the machinery grease and other grisly ichor that stained them. Taking a long puff from his iho-stick, the man would look down on the turrets, brought back online through both his own ability to partially coax, partially rewire, it's machine spirit, and through the sheer sorcery of the local psyker in their midst. He was not enthusiastic to say the least, knowing the caged spirit of the weapons would be raging at their improper usage and taint by the warp's touch. For the time being, he'd just run a hand through the thin stubble on his chin, deciding that atleast that fury could be vented upon the enemy, atleast while their psyker still held it's power over them. Needless to say, Tiro kept his eyes on the power cabling that gave the weapons life, and with a flick of his foot, would tear the energy keeping these ramshackled weapons online, out at the slightest chance of malfunction.

    However, for the time being, a grin would return to his face, as the familiar sounds of fool running to their deaths would return.

    "Not that I don't appreciate the lessons on this planet's infidelity, Sarge, but maybe just focus on getting that message out, yeah?"

    He didn't care if there was a civil war going on, if some of the planet's people had been damned by the lure of The Emperor's Children. Willingly or not, they were lost, they did not know the way, and it was up to Tiro to enlighten them to it. Bringing down his flamer from his shoulder, a small puff of smoke being released from a clear smile on the astartes face, he'd brace for the tide of degenerates that came to break against them. As the horde of foolish men and women came barreling towards their doom, Tiro was only all to happy to usher them onwards to the Dark Gods they worshiped. Fire would gush out from his weapon, spreading in a cone outwards, hungrily looking to engulf all the enemies of man that stood in it's path.
    OOC: All-Out Attack on Blade Thrall Horde
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  5. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    Of Scouts and Men
    Turns out Arrauth had a knack for aiming even when he wasn't looking. Bolt pistol jerks in hand in a chain of three round bursts. Traitor raises chainaxe to guard, not so foolish as to believe that a neophyte attacking him would just magically make the bolt pistol any less deadly. What he is foolish enough to do is cover most his helmet with blunt of the weapon, half blinding himself in the pursuit. So it is a small skip in Arrauth's step is mistaken for a trip or even a jolt of fear, marine stomping down into a trap. Now both of them go tumbling down several meters into the next apartment below, floor evaporating with the blast.

    "Clever little mouse, sadly for you a smart rat is still a rat." Astartes looms out of the dust, having found his feet quicker than the jungle native.

    "Arrauth, keep your head on your shoulders for a little bit longer. I've requested an aerial strike team heading for the inner city to make a quick stop at your location. Keep near the windows if you can." Kenemon's tidings are a cold comfort, no matter how close support is the traitor could easily end him in any number of seconds leading up to salvation.


    Arrauth: 8 Assault Legionnaire: 8

    Of Scouts, Veterans, and Super Men
    "I hope you taste decent as a roast then Barron. We're using you for rations if you get cooked out there." Any further snark on Kenemon's part is drowned out by the merciless attention of a heavy bolter, fist sized bolts pounding against the wall and chewing up closer towards the Hydra unit and its operator. Autocannons spit back larger flak canisters that erupt in mid-air, slapping black clouds into the sky around enemy aircraft. Thunderhawk pulls up from its attack run, dissuaded rather than wounded.

    Plasma splashes across one of the cannons, barrel sagging, twisting, then breaking off from the slagged point of impact. Assault cannon above churns out enough ammunition to waste a mob of greenskins and only manages to clip bunker walls and tear holes in the floor, plasma gunner having retreated back into cover. Other pair of Emperor's Children surge out the way they came in, setting themselves up on the wall and taking aim while Helekine is distracted with covering Barron. One pops a krak grenade into a launcher slung under bolter's barrel and lets it fly.

    Platform corner rocks with another krak blast, rockrete crumbling away all the faster under the weight of a Terminator.

    "Comin' down new blood!" Dawnbringer rocks towards damaged ground before making a small hop that leads into a heavy drop. Soldier slams down on the wall, upper body rocking where feet are already steady. Impact is akin to a battle cannon firing, Barron's firing chair left rattling. Assault cannon is already spun up and strafing the pair of Tacticals firing on them, dueling streams of brass exchanged across two walls. "Don't let up on that gunship. The rest of Kerberos are relocating further up the ramp as we speak."

    Team Wingclipper:
    Barron: 5 Brother Helekine: 22 Support Struts: 3/3/3/3 Hydra: 2
    Conditions: If Barron wishes to turn the Hydra on the three legionnaires he must spend a turn lowering the guns and re-orienting.

    Emperor's Children:
    Thunderhawk: 5 Legionnaires: 12 [PG]/12/9
    Conditions:

    Of Scouts, Their Sergeant, And Too Many Emperor Damned Heretics
    Crack another of Charon's missiles erupts against wounded servitor's shield. Barrier is little more than a twisted wrecking ball spot welded onto a limp limb. Guard forcibly lowered servitor can only tilt its head towards Alexander as he spins out of cover and discharges at it from point blank range. Heavy servitor topples back, briefly lifted off its piston powered feet and flying back through doorway. Its body becomes a stepping stone for the half dozen cultists that cram their way in through the entrance. Alexander and Charon are both instantly set upon by the thralls,a throwing knife chasing the cloaked warrior into cover before its owner vaults a cogitator and slams against him. Man wraps both legs around Alexander's broad chest, half-blinding him with a flak armored torso while thrall attempts to punch a blade mounted on the wrist of gauntlet into side of the scout's throat. Another heretic brandishing paired short swords sprints up to Charon, only for scout to bat him away with a vicious backhand.

    "If you don't think I'm capable of doing both this and talking your ear off at the same time Tiro you're sadly mistaken. I might have to keep you a few years longer than your brothers here if you aren't capable of doing the same. We'll sit down and have a nice long history lesson about this ball of sand later though. Watch the entrances, Kerberos Company reports several assault units inbound. Expect grenades." A frag clinks off of a doorway, angled to bounce off and into the room. Explosive detonates in a spray of metal shards that splashes mostly bare steel or armored sections on the opposed parties. Before anyone can do a double take another grenade detonates near to Charon and Alexander, shrapnel biting into the psyker's side and Alexander's back.

    Blade thralls flood in with a frenzy that is at once new and familiar, a sort of coherent madness that comes to those with something to prove. The two entrances not manned by the surviving combat servitor fill up with the broad forms of the Third Legion, a pair of Fulgrim's assault troopers armed with chainswords and bolt pistols. Whatever the favor the mortals hoped to earn under the watchful eyes of their masters went up in flame, along with much of Tiro's fuel. Room became clogged with smoke, bodies and cloth igniting easily in the promethium fed fires. Restored turrets weighed into the fight, repaired auspex and prey finder units ignoring the cloak of black smog with ease. Stubber turret punches the traitor trying to puncture Alexander's throat off the scout, legs loosening and falling to the ground while a body torn up by fat solid shot bleeds from a dozen different wounds against a cogitator unit. Multi-lasers light up the murk with flashes of crimson that look like lightning cloaked by dark clouds. More smoking bodies are dumped on the floor, blade thralls wasted before many of them can even plot their first blows.

    Several forms wreathed in crackling flame sprint past Tiro, ignoring him entirely as even their sychophantic, drug fueled frenzy cannot smother the pain of being utterly engulfed in fire. One burning form hobbles forward slower than the others, shadow growing until it is broad as Tiro and only a head shorter. Servitor levers shock maul overhead and brings it down on the Olympian's head. Nose cracks, skull fractures, eyes water until blind, and upper body goes numb after the first two seconds of high voltage electricity setting nerves alight. Tiro hears the muffled retort of a bolter firing, unable to quite realize in those moments that it is Aridan covering him. A mass reactive blasts a large part of the machine-slave's scalp and face across the room, leaving behind bare cranial implants and cybernetic augments. Another shot cores out the stomach, spilling shriveled intestines and white sustenance fluids on both parties' feet.
    "These are the rats scurrying around our feet? No wonder we could not find them!" First of the traitors speaks, hoisting up a fallen thrall and throwing it towards one of the turrets as a distraction before he stomps inside. Charon can already feel his ability to sustain the broken turrets wain. Abused as they were at the height of their function, their frankenstein-esque revival at his and Tiro's hands left them quick to abandon the Emperor's faithful to the pair of wolves stalking into the room.

    "Indeed brother, they must be quite skilled at hiding for surely they cannot fight." A krak grenade slides beneath the floating smoke and between the traitor's legs. Assault pack activates and twin turbines power the legionary to room's opposite wall, just a few feet away from Kenemon. Sergeant lifts his bolt pistol and punches three shots into the traitor's chest plate, just a few inches short of the gorget.

    "Boys, one of you take over here!" Kenemon abandons the station and jumps over the floor set screens, bounding right into close quarters combat with one of the Emperor's Children, pistol traded for second of his combat knives, both long blades balanced in a hand.


    Squad Kenemon:
    Aridan: 3 Tiro: 2 Charon: 2 Alexander: 4 Kenemon: 12 Multi-Laser Turrets: 3/3 Heavy Stubber Turret: 3
    Conditions: Charon: Blessing of the Machine Spirit active for 1/2 turns. 6/7 CD. During this time all critical failures for attacks using mechanical weapons are re-rolled once. Three turns left until data transfer is complete, in order for the counter to continue going down one of the scouts needs to dedicate a half-action to managing the stream and ensuring information is being re-directed properly.

    Horde Tongue Biter:
    Heavy Combat Servitors: 3 Assault Marines: 9/12
    Conditions:
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  6. "Oh I know you can Sarge. I know it's an easy job that any of us here can do, even Charon. I just wanted you to be quiet for a bit."

    Tiro laughs, bracing himself as his gout of fire washes over the mortal masses, watching them burn in the fires of damnation. So distracted by his little pyrotechnical show, he'd miss the incoming threat of the combat servitor, gaining a few swift strikes for his trouble.

    "BLARH!"

    He'd stumble back, clutching his head, his iho-stick fallen to the ground, blood running down his forehead as he glared back at the servitor. Anger is plain to see on the man's face, as he sizes up his opponent and moves to re-engage. Yet, with a few cracks, the foe is destroyed, and Tiro lets loose a huff, disappointed he won't be able to rip the machine apart with his bare hands.

    However, with the arrival of the traitor legionnaires, and his sergeants dive into close quarters combat, Tiro knew he'd be better off picking up the slack. Lumbering over towards the console, fingers moved across it's dashboard, as Tiro continued relaying the message. Spotting his sergeant attempting to take on the Emperor's Child with just combat knives, he'd take time to give the man some cover, seeing as how he'd forgotten even the most basic principles of "Bringing Knives to a Chainsword" fight.
    OOC: Half Action on Cogitator Communications Array, Half Action Defense on Kenemon
  7. Talvisota RuinaImperii Active Member

    “That may be ill-advised, Sarge,” Barron mumbles to himself as the jaws of death race his way, its iron teach gnawing and chomping the earth surrounding him. But Barron is prepared, and an instant later his gun roars in reply. The rattle beneath the scout is unfamiliar, but satisfying all the same. “I’m tougher than I look.”

    There was a disappointing lack of impact from his own assault, Barron would have to admit. An unsurprising development, given his track record. Probably not enough praying.

    The scout’s eyes don’t turn from the momentarily retreating thunderhawk fast enough to do much more than watch as the Terminator stop from the sky, but he certainly feels it. Barron is nearly knocked from his seat as the veteran lands, much harder than he’d expected, but composure is slapped back into him by the immediate bark of a firefight breaking out. “YES SIR!” He shouts above the exchange, attention turning back to the thunderhawk with some hastily muttered litany or other. May the Emperor’s light guide him.

    OOC: all our attack on Thunderhawk
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  8. Redthirst Redthirst Eternal Battles Moderator

    Survive it is, then. Getting up on his feet, Arrauth puts his Bolt Pistol away as the mag was now empty. The only usable weapon he had left was a knife, but it looked entirely unimpressive compared to a Chainaxe, so instead of trying his luck in a fight, he did what he did best - running and dodging. As his enemy was getting on his feet, large jump pack no doubt making it harder, Arrauth was already out of the room and out of reach of both the bolt pistol and Chainaxe. If he knew how close the relief team was he could probably jump outside, but right now it was suicidal, as in the open he would lose all of the advantages that he currently had.

    As the sound of chase grows near, Arrauth quickly slams another magazine into Bolt Pistol but ultimately decides against using it, instead focusing entirely on dodging incoming attacks.

    OOC: Full action Dodging.
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  9. Akerath Vlayden Well-Known Member

    The neophyte gave a grunt of irritation at the sudden attack, immediately wriggling violently in an attempt to get the man off - he wouldn't even care if the foe was dead or not, his sole goal at this point to get himself free, even if it meant utterly bitchslapping the poor cultist.

    From there he'd instead roll back, grabbing his shotgun and raising it towards the last combat servitor. He saw the Legionnaires and felt his stomach drop, a moment of anxiety coming through even with his Astartes mentality; he knew of the sheer strength of a Space Marine, and he knew of the devastation that Chaos could bring, as he'd saw earlier. But to see this in close quarters was something else altogether.

    His hesitation was pushed back and without any moment to lose, he let off two shots at the servitor, one to his pelvis and the other to the chest - hopefully taking it out for good.

    We'll need to focus them down, he thought to himself grimly.



    OOC: defense on self, shot on the Servitor
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  10. Fox Vulpas Well-Known Member

    Charon dodged the incoming sword blow the scout looking dead in the eye of the cultist women who tried to slap him, before bringing up his hand and back handing her with a cruching sound as her head and neck twisted slightly sending her back to the ground possibly dead, His hand sparked lighting causing the scout to smile for a moment before noticing the grenade, "ah shi-" was all he got out before being blasted back into the rocketcrete shrapnel getting into his thigh and nearly his neck. Coughing up and raising himself back up he spotted Tiro on the cognitor and Kenemon going to take on a deadly sight of emperors children.

    Feeling his own powers in the turrets waning Charon got knowing things would be getting hairier from here on out.
    Grabbing his bolt bolt pistol he backed up near Tiro. "Providing covering fire brother." was all he said as he began to let his bolt pistol bark for him.

    OOC ALL OUT defence one on tiro and one on charon.
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