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They Cometh From Iron

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

  1. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    The Blackest Night
    Captain Starbraid sits up in his throne, the squat seat crafted by some of Gingerbraid's finest Squats. Like a maestro he uses his fingers to direct the small green-black shapes representing the Dawnbringer fleet on a holo-grid in their maneuvers. Irritation mounts briefly every time he looks further afield and seizes up the difference between the chapter's woefully small fleet, being two cruisers, a selection of minor escorts, scouts, and raiders dwarfed by any other vessels of note, and the grand fleets of Guilliman's sons. Even those ravaged during the Battle of Thessala swam through the shoals of space in greater numbers, prows ruined like bloodied noses but colors flown proud and teeth bared against their foe. Perhaps that was why the Astra Drakon and Odiaus’ Pride were deployed to provide orbital support for forces further afield, specifically the Doom Eagles and Tenth Company. Captain Trimion did not seem to share Starbraid’s annoyance, at least the squat couldn’t sense any, and Squats knew how to detect grumblings, even internal ones. Indeed the man’s family had apparently been natives of Ultramar and this was anything but an ideal homecoming.

    Reports of first lances came in shortly before the Vanguard began deploying from allied cruisers. Great and terrible energies channeled into beams larger than titans criss-crossed the void and struck against equally mighty shields. Veteran shipmasters regarded the opening shots as insults, little more than puffing of the chest. It would not be a real fight until the broadsides fired, until wings of fighters clashed, bombers closed in, and the boarding torpedoes were launched; all decisions and plans that had been laid and re-laid over the slow, deathly silent approach of the two fleets. Void war rarely ever pivoted upon moment to moment orders and results, it was a slow game played with pieces so large that their death could reshape continents if they fell free of the table. If ever the adage about battles being won before they began was true, it would be in the void. There was also the saying about a fat lady singing and the end… the soundtrack for it was certainly present.

    The music was insufferable, and worst of all inescapable. Stormbirds, Thunder Hawks, Fire Raptors, Interceptors, Escorts, Battleships, none of them were safe from the noise. The discordant beats came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Muting vox units, communication beads, and proofing helmets against external sound did nothing. Sailors answered back with shanties and the Astartes with war hymns. As their voices rose so too did the music. The Brother-Heralds wailed upon their sonic weapons, trying to beat the enemy at their own game. Chaotic beat only climbed higher as machines screamed until armored fingers were literally smoking. Brother Ozymandias bows his head and simply practices a quiet warm up; they would need him at his fullest and finest on the ground.

    The Tenth Company were anything but quiet. Those who had not given up on singing continued at full volume. Akar looked rather at peace with the audio agony going on, expression locked in its usual temper. Temperer Aleksius Jonesius was doing his best to scream at them about how the Emperor’s Children were putting music in their air supply to turn them into heretics. Thank the Emperor they had already been briefed before hearing became a luxury. They would be deploying via bikes to assail the enemy position. No use trying to be sneaky if there was no cover between them and the mutated terrain currently fortified by the IIIrd. Ever unimaginative the Master of the Recruits was opting for a return to roots: throwing all his scouts at the issue with teeth grit and guns raised until they were in close with the foe and navigating a madhouse of guns, blades, and heathens. Even with the Doom Eagles supporting them and the traitor legion’s forces focused on the primary army of Ultra-sons and support from all across Ultramar, indeed the Imperium even, the deck remained stacked in their foe’s favor. Fulgrim held the power to reshape worlds, his sons were whipped up into a frenzy they had perhaps only experienced at the height of the Horus Heresy, a nigh endless stream of Neverborn stood at the precipice of Warp gates and arranged themselves on corrupted soils, and uncounted mortal thralls begged for the enemy to deliver themselves to their lines, be they legion, regiment, or something of metal rather than flesh, they craved the exhilaration of blood shed and death.

    But, what were the Astartes made for if not for missions like this? It was time to separate the boys from the men. There would be iron on Saramanth, true iron that will not break easy. Weapons proven time and time again against the great enemies of mankind, but still held at arms length by their own cousins, brothers even. Here the Dawnbringers, and all of Guilliman's true sons, would either stand and become heroes eternal, or break and submit Ultramar to a fate most unthinkable.
  2. Fox Vulpas Well-Known Member

    Charon kept his heavy bolter on his lap his helmet on his head as he tried to keep the volume razed hearing both ozzymandias and temperer aleksius Jonesius, Just so he could get the terrible racket of the traitors noise out of his ears both of those failing him caused him, Charons mind went back to remembering there chapter masters speech before they were sent out, The thought of them faltering if even for a minute alarmed him. Would he himself falter? would it damn him or worst his brothers or even the chapter? No likely not more likely it would likely at best mean his death or a worse fate. It caused him for only a second to think of death before pushing it away from the center of his mind to think of more trivial things to calm himself gathering himself he did at least know one thing. The traitors had shit taste in music.
  3. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    A Glimpse of Daybreak

    “Dig faster, damn your hands! This is in your genes!”

    “How am I to defend a trench that’s still being dug?”

    “The same way you defend your Imperium while it’s still being repaired; shoot with one hand and stab with the other! AND CALL UP THE AUXILIA!”

    - Accredited to a First Company Sternguard advising a Third Company Devastator during the landing at Saramanth.

    Light explodes from the clouds as spears of radiant energy that strike the earth with all the ferocity of lightning. From stricken earth domes of eye searing white bloom before the arrayed traitors and daemons, overtaking their eager senses and blinding those lacking the protective auto-senses of power armor. Hot on the heels of the visual assault come the gathered transports and gunships of Ultramar’s defenders. Aurora Chapter, Ultramarines, and Dawnbringers lay themselves upon the earth by drop-pod and flight craft, entrenching tools and larger soil turning apparatus joining them as they too demonstrate a power to reshape Saramanth. Earth trembles beneath the tread of mighty tanks, countless feet, and more terrible things still. Bolt casings were strewn in piles upon the grey wastes and delicate lawns of Fulgrim’s dreamscape, puddles becoming pools as Astartes on both sides exchanged fire between lines that were still forming. A bloody dawn had broken.

    Armored spearheads rumble into the fray against forward elements of Fulgrim’s legion and his twisted master-mistress’s countless daemon servants. There a Land Raider lumbers over a hill with its las-cannons unseating several Seekers of Slaanesh, its twin assault cannons chew up a line of soldiers who have chained themselves together and clasp satchel charges to their chests. A bat-winged Harpy descends from the skies elsewhere, taut pink flesh shifting with the flex of inhuman muscles underneath as she wrenches an Ultramarine off his feet and the two wrestle against one another in mid-air. Sitting in the backseat a line of Dawnbringers supported by a coalition of PDF from Macragge and Laphis. Overseeing these efforts are Captains Maximillian, Gario, and Menelaus. All three are supported by members of the Knights of Dawn whom anxiously, yet unquestioningly, serve away from the direct side of Diokletious himself.

    Third and Fourth Companies stand together nearest to the forefront of the fighting, simultaneously entrenching and shooting back at the tide of foes trying to run them over. Having been metaphorically joined at the hip due to the Dawnbringers’ lack of transports for each and every strike force, the two hundred odd marines serving across both companies fight in tandem with skill enough to rival Kerberos Company. Fire squads of Tactical Marines roam the lines in Rhinos and Razorbacks, challenging clusters of foes wherever their Devastators are threatened. Ahead of the gun line Assault Squads descend on screaming wings of fire to disrupt charges and eliminate enemy commanders, whether they be mortal, Astartes, or Heralds of the Chaos spawn.

    In truth the three companies present are all veterans in a way, if not officially designated such. Among them no less than sixty-three percent count themselves as survivors of Terra and the Scouring, a fine majority to lead the younger Zeussar natives that have ascended to the status of Dawnbringer. Old habits die hard, harder than even the fiends arrayed before them, and the bastards of Perturabo carve out rudimentary defenses and erect pre-fab buildings in record time. Even the unwitting sons of the new age, believing themselves to firmly be the progeny of Guilliman’s gene-seed, find a knack for the crude art of turning the battlefield into a death trap of fire zones and earthworks. Uglier habits begin to emerge as the opening minutes of the battle stretch on, cadres of mortal soldiers supporting the Dawnbringers are being burnt at a rate far higher than those serving their cousin chapters, and more than once the powers that be must remind their subordinate Sergeants and Lieutenants to take care: they were supposed to be protecting the citizenry of Ultramar after all, even if their lot was technically to die.

    A line in dead colorless stone is drawn between both forces, manifesting as a stretch of cratered no-man’s land. Sector separates the visually distinct land base being dug up by the loyalists, and the vibrantly colored estate of the Emperor’s Children. The first pulse of light to crawl all the way from palace to world wound’s circumference approaches, peeling away more of the terrain like a scab and throwing fragments of Saramanth sky word. Beneath it more grass, longer rivers, and gilded roads manifest. Brick walls of pure white rip free of freshly exposed daemon world, providing cover for advancing legionnaires whom press the advance in staggered waves, allowing cannon fodder cultists and the nigh endless stream of daemons to saturate the field and provide cover.

    Not all are so stable or sound of mind though. Exalted champions and attention seekers push their luck in headlong dashes toward the enemy guns. The Aurora and Ultramarine vanguard units had stirred many eager servants of the Dark Gods into a frenzy, and even as the retreating aggressors fell back to freshly prepared dug-outs and fortified positions the most ambitious seekers chased them. Those who were not blown off their feet became the work of champions; like Theodosius.

    The warrior formerly known as Marcus grinds a traitor underfoot forming a power armor shaped imprint in Saramanth’s ruined ground. Fool had tried to take him with a krak grenade and a chainsword, well those and a series of fangs that sprouted from open chest, but that really meant nothing to the Contemptor. Elsewhere Maximillian watched as his four strong honor guard of Tauros armored Knights of Dawn set into an abomination several hands taller than himself, a mutant or some other spawn that sported several horned heads and screams powerful enough to crack ceramite with their sonic waves. Honestly those were more pleasant than the continued playlist of Slaaneshi beats that had become less of an assault on the mind and instead were now a very real sound that warred with the cacophony of war for control of the opposing faction’s ears.

    First Captain had been given the highest honor and gravest duty, as befit his station, of guarding the coalition of Librarians formed from every single chapter in attendance. In his hands of he and his company lay their lives, for he had already been forewarned that the ritual to oppose and banish that dreadful heart of darkness inside the silver palace would leave them completely helpless against material threats. Were these men to die the Dawnbringers and many other sons of Guilliman would be crippled in their ability to combat both heretics and daemons.

    Tides of War: Dawnbringers (89) VS. The Scions of Slaanesh (Infinite) – Neutral
    Action Layout: Dawnbringers – 3 of Max’s choosing +1 A/ Scions – 3 Attacks
    Command Options: (2 picks)
    + Deploy Super Heavy – Maximillian may order the Gladius ad Solis (Sicarian Omega) to engage a specific target in the enemy line in an attempt to remove an enemy event. While deployed the Gladius ad Solis does not provide any other beneficial effects. 5 turn CD.
    +Deploy Sternguard Veterans – Sternguard teams may be deployed in an attempt to remove an enemy event, or create a random friendly event. 3 uses total.
    + Deploy Vanguard Veterans – Vanguard squads may be deployed to grant an extra attack action, counter certain enemy events. 3 uses total.
    +Deploy Hoplikons - Hoplikons use their storm shields to grant a bonus Tides of War defense roll, and one more minor buff/event based on what unit they are assigned to guard. 2 uses.
    + Deploy Auxillia – Maximillian may order several units of allied PDF forwards to reduce enemy actions by 1 on the following turn. Chances are the men will die horribly though and certain allies may look unkindly on careless expenditure of mortals. 2 turn CD.

    (F) Brother-Herald Ozymandias – Kerberos Company’s Brother-Herald stands at the forefront of the fight against the enemy, fighting their warped tunes and smiting heretics with the power of glorious Imperial Rock. Prevents the Tides of War from dropping more than one stage a turn.
    (F) – The Undying First - Free re-roll of the first failed Tides of War Defense roll each turn.
    (F) – Gladius ad Solis – The Sicarian Omega provides fire support all across the front lines while not assigned to a specific task. Grants 1 free attack a turn.
    (E) – Patriarch of the Emperor’s Children – Even sealed away in his lofty palace, Fulgrim emboldens his sons to fight with unfaltering skill and devotion. Imperial Advantage may not go higher than Minor, and will automatically be pushed back to Neutral if the advantage lasts for more than one turn.
  4. Fox Vulpas Well-Known Member

    Maxmillian looked over at a simple command stratagem, various squads poping up and along with there status, assets from the three defending chapter, Maximillian had a good look over his own options and the status of trenchs being built prefab fortifications, estimations when more where being built and the most important of them all the status of the librarian's that had begun working on there ritual.

    Maximillian felt a bit of nostalgia come over him when making planet fall seeing the trenches being put up and feeling a old familiarity that was the hard work he and his brothers did in the name of the emperor during days of old before there bastard father ha destroyed everything they built up. Memories flashed in his mind of the old power armor he had worn during of his time in the legion and his own times in the trenchs he had to wonder if any other brother felt it the familiarity while digging a trench.

    Bringing his mind back to realility he pushed the thoughts of old Herchel out of his mind and put forward first captain Maximillian of the dawn bringers first. Maximillian had a job to do, protect the ritual site at all costs along with Gario, and Menalus looking over there resources Max began thinking already on things to help buy them any time they could a Sternguard unit or hoplikion unit could help out Ozzy and maybe score some kills on some traitor units before they had get closer, though it maybe best to hold his hoplikions in case anything bigger comes or if shit hits the fan elsewhere. A sternguard could be enough for now buffing there outer defenses.

    looking at losses he could see already a good amount of there defenders, auxilla and serfs had been killed compared to the other two commanders, A grim event of there battle and something that seem to dog them even after there reforgment, Max knew he would need everything they had to help hold back the tied of fulgrims degenerates but if he could prevent wasting lives he would but not if it cost them the battle for if they failed in this then this world would become hell itself and a jump off point for traitors to try and invade the sector and segmentum that would count countless more lives.

    Maximillain looked up for a moment as he saw a light rip from fulgrims fortress into the earth of saramanth causing, grass and rivers to grow and even a gilded road and walls of pure white to form. "Those cheating fucks" he said under his breath as he looked on a bit pissed at the sorcery being used to erect walls at a moments notice and even artistic ones as well but not even the best defensive ones as well, not to mention how those rivers and streams not even being defense emplacements but a possible liability if falling back or moving forward but instead likely for looks for those prick peacocks out there if they had any brains they would have had the rivers filled with lava, the flowers being smaller gun emplacements the roads be rocketcrete to move vehicles faster through.

    Maximillian snorted and hope there own artillery would arrive to help aid in the defense, whirlwinds would be helpful in stopping any of the mortals of the third legion from doing there half suicidal charges and causing there brothers to waste bolt shells on em. Deciding to release one of the vanguard squads he Maxamillian decided to send out a hunter vanguard team to act as a hunter killer team and target any foes that tried to get through there lines there were likely foes coming that the vanguard team would likely find a challenge as the knights of dawn had already fought with him a spawn that managed to get this far into the second line. Voxing the two teams he looked to give them orders.

    "Veteran Sergeant Atilliaus got a objective for you and your boys on the front lines with our herald Ozzy I want you to help kick ass with him and help keep the traitors down and our own boys rocking and making it hard as possible for the peacocks to get pass the front lines." Maximilian said through the box to Atillaius giving his orders to the stern guard sergeant and there squad before bringing his vox up to a vanguard team.

    "Veteran Sergeant Maraco I got a job for ya, a bit of peacock hunting to help keep there numbers down before when they get in range I want you to hit priority targets fast and hard anything targeting major objects of interest or anything that may pose a danger to our lines I want you to give hell." Maximillian said giving out a order to the veteran sergeant. Maximillian put his hammer thunder hammer against his shoulder as he looked on to the field ready to see what the peacocks might have up there sleeve at worst they might fail get destroyed and murdered by there primarch at best they might boot these assholes off this world and purify the world.

    Tides of war actions two defensive and one attack
    1 Deploy stern guard vetern squad on the front lines with ozzy to help kick ass and and keep the peacocks numbers down.

    2 Deploy vetern vanguard squad among the front lines for fast attack priority targets that might endanger the lines or assets within there territory
  5. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    Hot Blood

    “I heard their Chaplain before I heard the bikes.”

    - Brother Phal during conjoined operations with the Dawnbringers Tenth Company

    “WATCH OUT CHAOS, I’M COMIN’!” Aleksius leads the Tenth Company out of their Stormbird. Combat bike mounted Chaplain rides alongside Akar as the proto-Astartes of the Dawnbringers peel out from the cavernous hold of the drop ship. Vehicles and mounted warriors fall for several feet, stomachs falling out from beneath them for a perilous few seconds before robust vehicles and bodies contact the earth. Wheeling around the combined force scouts hurl themselves into the dust cloud kicked up by the low flying aircraft, its array of heavy armament already singing praises to the Emperor as it closes on the hillock taken by the enemy and surrounded by Doom Eagles.

    Stormbird hitches a lift on the rising winds and its jets, drawing enemy eyes higher and leaving its payload of Neophytes shrouded from view. Squad Kenemon rides at the forefront, Akar having ordered them to act as their storm troopers for whatever reason. Through the choking dust the young men can see another has bolstered their number: Kourosh another Quarian like Arrauth. Together the seven odd scouts ride with their Captain and thirty other brothers of the company into a fight that will put Espanza to shame.

    Cloud of kicked up dust abandons them several hundred meters from the target area. Hillock has already begun melting into a minor manse not unlike those raised around the main ritual site. Three stories of marbled columns, porches, balconies all manned by Emperor’s Children and their servant-army stand against the loyalist. The expansive gardens and courtyards housed the lion’s share of fighting at the moment, Doom Eagles working through the warped flora and its twisted masters across flagstone paths, hedge walls, and toppled statues. So far the Neverborn had yet to rear their ugly heads; Charon felt them nevertheless.

    Several tubes sting the earth before the approaching bikers. Ground heaves beneath and fire erupts in all directions as the Tenth Company rides headlong into a Whirlwind bombardment. Someone behind Tiro dies, the screaming too indistinct to tell who has been struck. Hot air and flames lick at the whole lot of them, Emperor’s Children having opted for an incendiary payload it seems. Not a one of them who still clings to life dares to ride blind, tailing Akar as he veers out of the blast. More missiles scatter across the lands, flames budding up in a net across the stone and sands to ensnare them. Master of the Recruits has them power through until the black fire-smog shrouding much of the wastes opens up and they’re suddenly riding up a sharp incline and race over the trimmed hedges of the garden. Less than thirty bikes make the landing, several lives lost before they have even fired at the enemy, all of them youths who had yet to earn their Black Carapace.

    The bullish vehicles run over several more walls of hedge before breaking into a side yard near what appears to be a service entrance. A broad circular section of land centered by a statue depicting a many-mouthed androgynous figure spewing golden waters into a pool that runs fifteen meters in either direction separate the scouts from a waiting force of enemy bikers. Fifteen legionnaires gun their vehicles across the waters, hands formed from the metallic liquid rising up to carry the riders and their steeds toward the Dawnbringers. Good chance they probably wouldn’t be so accommodating to the loyalist…

    Squad Kenemon:
    Kenemon: 15 Tiro: 10 Alexander: 10 Kourosh: 10 Charon: 10 Aridan: 10 Arrauth: 10 Barron: 10
    Conditions: Barron: Health Kit (6 Charges). Everyone is currently mounted on a Scout Bike that shares health with the player, these all have twin-linked bolters. Arrauth's Deadly Fields trait cannot be activated during this combat.

    Emperor’s Children:
    Combat Bikers: 12/12/12
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  6. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member


    As Kourosh follows in his Captain's wake out the ramp of the Stormbird, he guns his engines and gets his wheels spinning, just as he had been taught in training. That way, at least some of the impact of the fall will be transmuted into forward momentum, rather than reverberating up through the frame of the bike and into his bones and internal organs. Zooming through the grounds of the country villa, he cannot help but reflect on the sheer luxury - from the standards he knew growing up - thereof, and question the need for such softness and excess in anyone's life. A life of living on the fringes of an already subsistence-level society, and scrabbling for a living from the unforgiving jungle swamps, had bred some very spartan expectations into the young man.

    As the Traitor warbikers make their appearance, Kourosh maintains formation, but casts a quick eye over the surrounds, looking for flanking and cover opportunities, should the fight turn into a chaotic furball after the first pass. His thumb hovers over the trigger to the twin-linked bolters, awaiting the order to fire, even as he picks out his target and manoeuvres to hold the crosshairs steady...

    OOC: All-out attack on closest Traitor warbiker once the order is given.
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  7. Fox Vulpas Well-Known Member

    Following behind hot head-
    Charon came down with his bike feeling chafing and quite bump to the crotch that caused his minor stumble of a landing but a quick recovery helped him keep up with his brothers. Ohhhhh that hurt. Charon thought as he rode forward he needed to work on his landings better.

    moving forward he veered as he spotted misses coming down fire almost over catching him and catching another scout from there company. oh I hope that wasn't one from my squad. Charon thought as he continued riding spotting hedges and the warped landscape Charon only gave a moments thoughts thinking that something was off about this lands, it may look nice and fancy but it made Charon's gut turn even more then from his landing, It was the work of something foul and likely only contained something foul within it, spotting the the emperors children and there new land work of what looked to be a statue spewing out golden colored waste from out of its mouth, only caused more disgust to rise in Charon's mouth. Spotting and hearing the sounds of there bikes he could see the hands of the very environment itself going up and making a bridge for them. "So you want to play it like that eh?" Charon said deciding to see if he could give everyone's bike a boost to even the playing fields.

    Feeling in his guts the eyes of the never born watching he knew he would have to careful of not only the never born, but also his own ride casting a spell while riding a bike and avoiding the hands of the tricky never born would be quite tricky, who knows if it would also bring them faster towards them as well, Well there was only one way to find out.

    Charon began by feeling the machines around them there noble machine spirits as they road feeling out to them he hoped to simply bless them, remember hearing the words of some of there tech marines as they hummed as they worked on there weapons and vehicles he began to speak it as he then attempted to cast his spell blessings of the machine spirit. After his Charon would be on the defensive working his way with his brothers to there objective with his attempt to aid he has done so far.

    OOC Blessings of the machine spirits on loyalist bikes in the area mostly Charons squad. One defense on Charon
  8. KnightReborned WanderingJester Well-Known Member

    Aridan ignored the incessant screaming in his head, and revved the engines of the assault bike, checking, double checking and triple checking everything from the suspension to the twin-linked bolters on it. Suddenly, a light appeared, signalling a quickly approaching drop zone. Watching the latches to the side move, he braced himself as the free fall began, adjusting his posture on the bike to absorb the impact of the landing. As they sped forward into the enemy lines, the scout to see the serene, too perfect to be natural.

    Then the enemy whirlwind began firing.

    Missiles began raining down from the sky, and, being at the back of most of the formation, Aridan couldn't just gun past the volley. Explosions ripped out around him, and as he swerved, a missile dropped directly in front of the bike in front of him. The scout quickly rode over the wreckage forward, only to see the line in front of him blown to bits by the next volley. Quickly twisting the bike, the scout slid the bike to the ground as another assault bike from the front kicked into the air from the explosion, its rider nowhere to be seen.

    The bike flipped from side to side, and one of the twisted wheels barely avoided crushing Aridan's head by a single foot. Sliding back up again, he pushed the machine spirit of his vehicle to the limit, flying forward to reunite with the rest of the Kennemon Squad. Just as he managed to catch up, the Emperor's Children themselves mounted up and rode out to meet them. Getting ready mentally, the scout slotted the safety off of his assault bike's twin linked bolters and began firing at the enemy, weaving back and forth as fighter pilot would in a dog fight, trying to get into good enough position to take out one of the combat bikers.

    OOC: Fire Support Stance. All out attack on biker 1.
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  9. The world rushes all around, as from the trooper bay of stormbird, Tiro falls into the fray. Atop metal steed, the marine laughs openly, slamming into the ground with a hard thud, gunning engine as he falls into formation with the others of the scout company. Cloak billowing out behind him, velocity increasing with each second, the warrior feels the rush of combat about him, as he enters his first true battlefield, his first true war. No more skulking about it would seem, no more sneaking and creeping, no, now was the time to face the enemies of mankind, proud and blatant. Yes, fingers clenched upon handlebars, now, he would enter the fires of war proper, and how hot it would burn.

    The volley of fire came burning down, like a blatant rain of hell itself, the burning crack of powerful explosions buffeting the young marine from all sides. Force that nearly toppled him from his steed would be felt, yet through it all, Tiro remained strong, riding through the storm and enduring it's punishment. The fires burned bright, but, was was this light show in comparison to the heat of the rising sun? Where others clung to the path of their sergeants and captain, Tiro road with a confidence that bordered on madness, convinced that no fire would be the end of him, not in such a mundane way. Emerging from the murderous bombardment, sighting the procession of his comrades, Tiro falls into line, and follows in their headlong charge, driving into the gardens of their foe.

    Seeing the traitors mounted up on their own infernal machines, Tiro narrowed his gaze, his laughter turning into a more confident grin, as he mobilized to face them directly. Revving his engine, he'd launch forth, a direct path of acceleration that only grew swifter and swifter with each moment. Looking to see if these traitors wished to have a bit of a game of chicken, his steely gaze would settle upon the trio, as he closed the distance coming closer and closer with each passing instant. Fingering the controls for his twin-linked bolters, he'd wait until he'd come within a stone's throw of the enemy, before he'd reach down to his hip. Drawing up his flamer, he'd give the weapon a swift flourish in his hands, before unleashing an inferno upon the debased servants of The Dark Prince.

    Dawn had risen upon this world, and Tiro was it's herald.

    Let all Traitors Burn!
    OOC: Balanced Attack, Defense on Self.
    Using Trait: In The Burning Heart, to burn all targets within range
  10. Akerath Vlayden Well-Known Member

    Garrick was feeling more and more content with how life was turning out thus far - first being able to handle himself a beloved Meltagun, and now he was upon his first true ride in wartimes upon a bike, feeling the wind biting at him with each passing second

    Whirlwind batteries opened up and had anyone seen him, they may have been surprised to see him smiling - no, grinning, the damned maniac was grinning - with excitement, adrenaline rushing through his veins

    The sight of the enemy though almost disgusted him, yet simultaneously sent joy to his mind; something to fight, something to prove himself against! His gaze briefly looked over to his companions to see their own reactions, deciding to react accordingly instead of trying to (and failing, he knew) to take command however briefly it may be; with Aridan turning to fight one, Garrick took one hand off his handles and rested it upon the meltagun he attached to the front. Steady, steady - even a near-miss could be useful, yet at such blinding, magnificent speeds even that was going to be difficult.

    All the same, he readied himself, rolling his shoulder for a moment as he waited for the perfect moment to fire. Almost....

    OOC: all out attack on Biker 1 with the meltagun

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