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They Cometh From Iron

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

  1. Akerath Vlayden Well-Known Member

    "I had spoken with Herstius earlier as well as some other companions, and was seeing to arranging get-togethers; attempts for socialization amongst the Legion. If anything, at least as an attempt to bring more sense of a brotherhood among us." He explained - not quite wanting to use the terms 'warrior lodges'.
    "I caught sight of the fight that was about to ensue, and did not want to intervene, lest I get caught and potentially seen as an aggressor, given the Luna Wolves' words that none would believe us for being on the defense. I wasn't willing to risk my position in the Apothecarion and losing my capability in helping the injured."

    "I went to aid Herstius, as he was the one who brought them together; and I had kept an eye on Dyzek for attempting to leave the combat area, but clearly was remaining on the defensive."

    The Apothecary took in a breath, before finalizing his statement. "Overall; I had wished to help my brethren in Seventh Squad, but couldn't directly do so without fear of losing my capabilities as an Apothecary. When I fight, I fight to win, and this does not exclude any damages that a Narthecium may cause. So I did not wish to end up directly in the combat, hence why I had asked for help."
    "My connection to Herstius, was.." He took a moment to think, his back straightening - it was easy for anyone to see he looked a bit content at going through the memories, even if he 'edited' what had occured for Herstius' secrecy's sake regarding his pendant. "He had come to me for a simple appointment. After it was done, we socialized for a bit, and he was the first outside of Seventh that I actually had connected with. This is one of the reasons that I decided on attempting to arrange get-togethers, and little group bondings, in an attempt to get socialization outside of squadrons."
    @DeranVendar
  2. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    Brumdar and Arkon both sized up Marcus. The Apothecary had a reputation in the company for being almost eerily friendly for an Iron Warrior. Compared to the likes of Maugan, a man with a healthier love of blood and guts than was normal, or the other far more sterile personalities around the Apothecarion, Marcus might as well of been a Blood Angel; or just as screwed in the head as the Chief. The Captain would be the first to speak, both hands clasped together on the table.

    "First: Do not fear much for your place Apothecary. We aren't going to strip you of the ability to do your job, especially with how vital it is to keeping the wheels of war turning. I might yell at you, deny you promotion, and elect to attach you for some very unpleasant jobs, but no you effectively cannot be robbed of your role by anything other than death. Secondly: I appreciate your caution in attempting to handle the situation, however the fact you were able to call in a small force organized by bonds that have apparently been forged in secret is deeply concerning. We can't afford to have these sorts of things, regardless of the intent, going on underneath our noses. Herstius, Marcus, you are ordered to cease all activity beyond your duties as ordained by command and your stature as Adeptus Astartes." Brumdar frowned at the both of them, leaning away from the table.

    "Failure to adhere to these orders is, of course, punishable in any degree seen fit. Consider yourselves lucky, under different circumstances this could of been considered conspiracy to commit treason by means of undermining the structure of the company, and even battalion." Arkon lifted his chin slightly as he began to speak. An instant after finishing his eyes drifted toward the Captain, whom was looking at him with visible annoyance knowing damn well what those 'difference circumstances' were. A series of heavy clinks drew both sets of eyes to Trevun who stood by the table, drumming armored fingers against the metal. Noting the looks and having accomplished his mission to hopefully get things back on track, the terminator relented and offered a shrug of feigned apology.

    "I hope the irony of that statement doesn't escape you First Lieutenant. Now then, if there are no further concerns or questions on your part, you are dismissed."

    @Vlayden
  3. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    Seth for once, did say anything during the "debriefing". He kept his face completely devoid of any emotions, look as flat as possible. In truth, he expected Arkon to start berating them and whatnot, but when that didn't happen all he was left was feeling of nothingness.

    Walking out and into the snow, Seth inhaled deeply, the frosty air filling his lungs and making him feel relaxed, the way he didn't feel for a long time. They won the brawl, Cro was properly beaten and humiliated and they earned couple of more friends in the proces. A win in Seth's book if there ever was any.

    Going down the defensive emplacements, Seth sat down behind one of the bunkers manned by IV Legion warriors, where he took his big axe and started doing the lenghty task of cleaning and sharpening its adamantium teeth. If anyone wanted to talk with him, now was the time.
  4. @DeranVendar @Colapse

    "Why do you think they did it?"

    The question would hand in the air, announcing Dyzek's presence to Seth, as suddenly, the Iron Warrior was joined by his comrade. While Seth sat, attending to his weapon, relatively at ease with himself, by the posture and stance of the still standing Dyzek, it would be clear that his mind was troubled. The man, crossing his arms, would look from his brother, off in the direction of the Luna Wolves encampment, pondering even now how their side would be taking the news of the brawl. His fingers would tighten as once more he'd be angered at the choices made this day, unsure why any of the Legions would debase themselves so readily.​
  5. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    "Because they are gangers first and foremost, bunch of lowly criminals trying to seize an opportunity they thought was right in front of them. We cannot change who we are, not even when we are risen above mortal men to do the tasks of gods, for that is what the blood flowing through our veins binds us to do," Seth replied, finally raising his faze to look at Dyzek.

    "Or perhaps they thought us weak and wanted to assert dominance, like what would one pack of wolves do to another. Or maybe they just wanted to fight, so attacking us was as good of a choice as any."

    "Or maybe they we ordered to," he said, at last the familiar grin forming on his face. "Luna Wolves call themselves the best of the best, but during battle it was proved otherwise. We broke the pattern and it caused ripples, ripples that can turn into a tsunami if it was made a public knowledge. Just think about it, glorious conquerors beaten both in combat performance and now in brawl by a bunch of trench diggers. It's ought to cause trouble and I wouldn't be surprised if some of the bigger players comes to bark at our tree. That is, unless Brumdar and Arkon put this under the rug although that would be a bad thing indeed."
  6. Akerath Vlayden Well-Known Member

    As the trio left and got out of earshot, Marcus would reach over and give Trevun a light nudge and bring a gauntlet onto Herstius' shoulder. He gave off a small sigh, before speaking up.
    "I will say, thank you both for coming. Might've needed to rethink what to say, but at least you both aren't in any trouble. You stay safe, and keep the others safe as well!" He said, a small nod being given to them both. "I'm still going to remain free if either of you do want to spend some time chatting." He said, before moving to join the two Squadmates; he certainly wouldn't mind if his friends followed, but it was not going to be something that he asked of them.
    Once at Dyzek and Seth, he picked up a small rock and tossed it at Seth's armour, giving it a light 'ding' as he waltzed over. His walk showed that he at least was somewhat content despite everything. "...So your opener is a chain whip?" He asked, a bit of amusement in his voice. "Thought you were against animal abuse, before you did that to the poor pups."

    @Colapse @BruticusTheGoreHound
    @DeranVendar
  7. DeranVendar DeranVendar Subordinate

    Wrap Up
    "No problem brother. Most of that went in one ear and out the other, so whether or not you said something dumb, I wasn't listening anyways." Trevun cracked a toothy grin and clapped Marcus back, nearly throwing him forward with the power fist had the Apothecary not been as stable of footing as he was. The massive warrior stepped away from them, moving towards a small congregation of Iron Warriors being detained for their part in everything. Herstius looked at Marcus for a moment before walking off.

    "You're onto something Seth." Akar decided to chime in with some wisdom of his own as Marcus approached the group. "The Luna Wolves and Ultramarines are both similiar in that they're possessed of a fair deal of arrogance. It's how that arrogance manifests that sets them apart. The sons of Lupercal proclaim their glory quite loudly, much like the Emperor's Children. The Ultramarines state it as fact and carry on with themselves. They point to planets conquered and brought into the fold, statistics and honors. The Luna Wolves tell you about it by shoving trophies in your face and never shutting the hell up. I'd guess that it's some insecurity about being the first legion to really kick things off with their Primarch. They might not be the first in name, but they want it to be their title." Akar gave a slight shrug.

    "Whatever it is, I think we knocked them down a peg today. Maybe they'll pick up the slack in the coming engagements."

    Dragon Strike
    A chill wind howled in from the south, and with it came the pilots of clan Hildagur's Aeronautics Guild. The skies above Khaz Yurgrund became a battle field to itself, as the legions' previous undisputed claim to the heavens was not just contested, but flipped on its head. Iron Eagle Gyrocopters swooped down from the peaks over the besieged Squat fortress. Battle Cannons picking out nests of Iron Warriors and their big guns, while Auto-Cannons stitched bloody lines through the trenches that had been scarred into the frozen plains beyond Khaz Yurgrund. They struck with near impunity from the combined fleet of Iron Warrior and Luna Wolf aircraft, far larger and dire things demanding their attention.

    Two War Blimps drifted towards the Grand Battalion's location. Dozens of heavy cannon and flak guns caused the earth to churn like water beneath sheer weight of fire, while the crystalline blue-white skies were smudged with ugly black clouds. Racks of bombs were unseated and reloaded periodically, the Squats targeting the bombing runs laughing like spiteful gods as entire squads that had the misfortune to fall into the path of their sights vanished in great geysers of flame and earth. Even those caught in the web of crude, yet functional tunnels beneath the surface were not safe as drill nosed MOLE bombs streaked through the ground and caused the ground to ripple with subterranean detonations.

    The modulated roar of a beast ripped straight from legends of old summoned both dread and death among the invaders. Sleek wings of adamantium fashioned like scales and bristling with turrets blotted out the sun above the earthworks. Tipping a powerful neck of segmented metal was a head crafted in the likeness of a mighty reptilian goliath, a pair of curved horns extending out past jaws eternally parted to make room for a gargantuan frost weapon. Wherever the shadow of the great beast passed the air warmed with deadly hails of munitions fire. Even digging down into cover was of little use, for the great beast breathed a frosty end through and around cover. Half a mile of the front lines became a vignette of Iron Warriors scrambling for cover or turning heavy weapons upwards; the entire locale carved out in a splatter of ice that reflected blinding light upon those who gazed upon it. The magnum opus of clan Hildagur and their dreams of ruling the reviled skies bore the name Drakeron Ningrundi.

    The warriors of Seventh Squad watched the devastation from several different vantage points. The vast majority of them were located within' an underground chamber dug out for the purpose of giving HQ a semi-secure area to operate in peace. A multitude of recording units and servo-skulls darting through the chaos provided them with a multitude of static laden views of the carnage. Xerxes had been summoned to communicate with naval personnel, an attempt bring in aid to save the siege from turning into a massacre after several critical signal boosting bunkers had been obliterated by Squat bombing runs. While many had already sought shelter underground anyways, the fighting would not abate as the lords of Khaz Yurgrund deployed their kinsmen into the fray. Tunneling transports burst through walls and streams of vehicles and infantry poured out from the mountain side through side passages previously blocked off or buttoned up with artillery fire.

    Above ground and elbows deep in the supporting struts of a Stormbird's internal hold, Vilhelm worked at a furious pace to try and get the craft flight worthy again. Dyzek stood nearby, leaning out of a troop bay door beside an emergency flare hidden from airborne predators by the shadow of a folded wing. His job was guard duty through and through, himself and several other legionnaires from several squads keeping the area secure against whatever threats may come their way while several Tech-marines and their mechanical thralls worked. Every now and then more legion troops, from both the Sixteenth and the Fourth, would make their way to them; all mentioning that a World Eater in Iron Warrior colors had sent them. Beyond the perimeter, Seth was at work.

    The Stormbird was estimated to have a forty strong carrying capacity once one figured in structural damage. Seth had taken it upon himself to dive into the trenches and tunnels, find those that had the spine for something daring, and send them up to join his brothers. Of course he also found Squats too, not that it was an issue. A chance to slaughter the enemy between rallying speeches and yelling at his brothers to get the lead out wasn't exactly unpleasant for him. What a gambit it would be though, the Luna Wolf that had initially got the message out had talked plenty about laying low the war engine terrorizing their lines, Seth had already signed up and stopped listening when the objective was made clear. The how and when were questions for the cog heads.
  8. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member

    During the inquiry, Xerxes has his most professional hat on, speaking only when called to and prepared with detailed answers and rationale for every possible part of the affair that he could be questioned on. Together with his documentary evidence, he resembles nothing so much as a highly-astute barrister arguing a well-prepared case before the highest court in the land.

    When all the squad but Marcus are dismissed, he walks back in silence to barracks with the others and sits at his billet. At first, he listens in silence to the others talk, opening a book to skim the pages at the same time. He finds himself quite impressed by Seth's grasp of gutter politics. In truth, the three of them - Seth, Dyzek and his own self - came from similar roots. Dust-dwellers to the man, they would all have had a similar appreciation for any society that lived by the law of the wolfpack.

    "I agree with Seth," he says, inserting himself into a pause, "The truth is, it could be any combination of the factors he mentioned, though the first - that they are sump scum - is a given. The most likely possibility is that they were, as mentioned previously, insecure about being made to look second-best to us, and were compensating for it the only way they knew how. Whether or not this stops at them, or is a matter of policy within their unit, battalion or even Legion - that is the question. But I agree that this is far from the end of it - merely a beginning."

    Putting down his book, he draws his knife and begins honing the already-keen edge with an oilstone. It helped him focus when thoughts turned to violence.

    "In all, though, I reckon the right message has been sent. We have signalled that the IVth is not easy prey - we can handle ourselves individually, and we close ranks quickly against outside threat. Predators tend to avoid hard prey."

    Looking up from his knife, he fixes the others with his gaze.

    "Tend to. There will always be a rabid minority who will persist against all reason, either because they are obssessed with the status that comes with taking down hard prey, or because they have nothing left to lose, or else they are simply addicted to the thrill of danger and transgression. Time and observation alone will tell if Cro and his...cronies belong in this group. Or if someone further up the line is pulling his strings. We need to watch him."

    Reaching into his locker, he pulls out a large glass bottle full of clear , colourless, liquid.

    "On that note, what say we celebrate, brothers?" he says, shaking the conspicuously unmarked bottle.
  9. Brother_Draconion Draconion Well-Known Member

    <Operation Dragon Strike>

    Xerxes opens his tired eyes and buries his face in a hot towel profferred by an orderly. He has just sent his sixth astropathic update to the fleet in this hour, appraising them of the situation on the ground and requesting reinforcements at the earliest available opportunity. As he towels down his face and massages his throbbing eyes and temples, he reflects on how difficult it is to reliably convey the quantitative in a qualitative medium - providing exacting reports of casualty figures, troop movements, supply stocks, kill counts, weapon ranges, prognosticative ratios and a thousand other statistics, all in the bizarre dream-logic of astropathic communication.

    Turning his attention to the nearby strategium hololith, he summons up local theatre feeds to keep tabs on the Seventh and their special mission to slay the mechanical dragon of Khaz Yurgrund. Deep inside, he regrets not being able to be with his squad brothers in yet another hour of great need, but the Legion has commanded, and he must obey.
  10. @DeranVendar @Colapse

    A tremor would run through the earth, as gunfire and explosions raced across the blackened skies, the battle between Astartes and Squats ferocious to the point where it seemed the very planet was tearing apart. The booming engines of soaring combat would be a constant source of cacophony, to say nothing of the clash of arms upon the ground and beneath it's surface. Indeed, as Dyzek drew a bead on an oncoming Squat, the creature's mouth frothing with a mix of insanity and zeal, he could only take a small moment to think on the fact that he'd lost count of the casualties he'd witnessed since being sent out into this hellish warzone. The kick of his weapon would simply add another to the piles of corpses that littered this battlefield, as Dyzek would already be moving on to put another target in his sights.

    As above, a gyrocopter came spinning and flailing to crash into the earth not far from their position, Dyzek would receive a small ping on his helmet's display, another request on his comm channel. Opening it at once, the marine would be notified of the position of three incoming astartes, no doubt more warriors directed to him via the efforts of his raging brother. Wasting little time, he'd quickly provide swift directives for these men to defend their objective, the damaged Stormbird behind him being the source of their efforts here and now. Quickly identifying his incoming reinforcements as Luna Wolves, he'd speak over his helmet's communications. His voice would be at a calm that belied the chaos and clash of the battle around him, perhaps even bearing a hint of amusement, for the be honest, the marine held a charge within his every action.

    "Welcome cousins, I am sending positions via the vox for you to station in our defense here."

    As per the standard orders of his Legion, Dyzek had prepared a more conventional static defense for the soldiers here, keeping them to the trenches, trying to collapse any tunnels that were either already present, or erupted up from beneath them. He did however, provide these new three with a more active station then simply digging in however, to act as a rapid response unit to any unforeseen threat. It would keep them running about, and hopefully, play to their more aggressive style of warfare, Dyzek would hope. At this point, Seth had managed to send him thirteen warriors of the forty they'd hoped to gather for their upcoming mission, not including Vilhelm, who even now toiled away within the down vehicle they guarded. So far, Dyzek had avoided any problems with his directives, those few coming to his position seemingly accepting his directives for the time being. Whether due to the fact that large scale communications were down, leaving many battle brothers without clear orders themselves, or else respect garnered no doubt by Seth's more physical style of charisma, Dyzek would try not to question it much. He'd only hope that his brother would return soon, for time was of the essence, and with each passing moment, the battle turned more in the favour of the abhumans.

    Dropping his bolter, the weapon now halved by the swing of a tenacious one of the Squats before him, Dyzek would lunge out with a single hand, fingers slipping between the armour of chest and head, to dig into the meat of his foe's throat. Digging out a hunk of muscle and flesh, he'd cast aside the grisly chunk of the Squat, whom he left to thrash and die in the muck of the earth, a fountain of ichor spraying up from his wound. The Iron Warrior would turn, drawing his bolt pistol in one hand, and grasping his chain glaive from where it rested in the trench with the other. He'd receive a quick notice on his helm, a signal requesting aid from one of the stationed sentries, who seemed to be under assault. Quickly notifying the recently arrived Luna Wolves, Dyzek would then open up a channel to his brother within the Stormbird.

    "Brother, I need an update on your repairs. Can you provide me with an estimated time for you to get this machine airborne? We cannot tarry here fo-"

    He'd pause in his words, as he felt a shudder pass through the earth at his feet, before it ceased to be entirely. Falling away, the ground beneath him would collapse in on itself, dropping the marine down into a tunnel of the enemy, currently occupied by those who sought to reach the Stormbird through bypassing it's defenders entirely. He'd reward their attempt at trickery by loosing a twin pair of frag grenades into their packed numbers, before allowing his jump pack to carrying him upwards out of the tunnel. As he ascended, he'd hear the booming explosion of his ordnance, coupled with the earth falling in on itself, the progress of this one earthworks halted permanently. Quickly passing word to the others to keep aware from any attempts to sneak by them from below, Dyzek's eyes would be drawn out to the greater battleground around him.

    From his place in the air, he could see the large scale of warfare waged by his brothers, cousins, and foes. Charges of armoured vehicles, explosive arrival or artillery, the crunch and crashing of individual battles between warriors. And from above it all, a shadow would zoom across the fields of carnage, announcing it's presence with an inhuman roar of distorted wrath and ferocity. Gazing out into this scene of hell, Dyzek could only ponder on where his brother was, and if he yet lived. The thought of his demise would be alien to him, yet, despite his attempts to push it away, he could feel it in the back of his mind, constantly repeating the same thing over and over again.

    Where was Seth?​

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