@Colapse

"Something along the lines of a redemptory suicide mission, I suspect," replies Silim as he dry-fires his bolter with a magazine laid flat across the top of the barrel to get a feel for how the weapon pulls in combat, "At least they're giving us enough weapons to make it interesting."

Glancing about the armoury, he looks for sundry items like rolls of tape, synthetic cord, glowsticks and flares, and aims to filch as much as he can carry.

@Draconion

"And since when are they the ultimate moral paragons of justice to deem some reedemed or not redeemed," Viator growled, generally angry at even thinking about blasted Word Bearers. "I thought we are all "the lost and the damned" anyway!"

"Also, I see you are packing lots of stuff there, you sure we don't need to fetch you a bag?" he now laughed, quite cheerful in fact. Mood swings and all. "Then again, I thought all of Cyclopse's breed are mighty sorcerers so you perhaps know how to conjure a bag? Guess not, looking at all the ducktape you are hoarding. Maybe you still haven't reached that level in your art department?"

OOC Art as in sorcery

@Colapse @Redthirst

"Your brother Slaaneshi has said - redemption in their eyes, because that's all that matters to them. It matters to us because they hold the power to make our lives miserable. Or short. For now."

"As for a bag, how long since you were last in an armoury? There're always spare scraps around that can be used as a bag," remarks Silim, pottering about for old discarded plastic or fabric bags and ordnance boxes that can be rigged into a simple satchel.

OOC: Advancing us so we aren't here too long. @matt23 @Grall_Stonefist @Virgil_Corbec you can post your armories whenever.

< Briefing >
Once the slaves were properly kitted out for their first missions they would be split once more, each team of indebted astartes going off to unknown fates. Tzeentch had decidedly woven the web so that our heretics would find themselves in the company of the sorcerer.

"You should all be quite grateful you know, getting to enter the Basilica before any others of your ilk. Don't get too excited though, you're still stuck with me and won't be meeting your sponsor for some time. " Staff thunked along the ground with every step. An arrogant swagger was present in the psyker's movement, not at all bothered by the fact that a handful of healthy, armed space marines were just a few paces away. Whether it was the brands or the presence of two Word Bearers legionnaires, it was a safe bet they wouldn't be winning much with an attempted shock attack. "Before such an honored gathering might even be considered you, and the others for that matter, must prove your abilities and overall usefulness to myself and Executor Damorak. " They had been brought to what looked like servant's entrance into the Basilica. An unassuming little portcullis on the side guarded by Furies perched upon the masonry and hidden ledges. Blood strains both fresh and old decorated the surrounding area and a number of corpses in various states of consumption made it clear that even those who offered their services to the Word Bearers weren't safe.

Brought inside the heretics were denied any grand sights or experiences. No blasphemous artwork of insane beauty, no music, not even a misting of incense. Instead they were shuttled down cramped side passages as if they were rats crawling through the walls. Silim and Aphael felt the telltale itch of warp shenanigans at play and Viator could practically taste an especially exquisite brand of misery. "For what it's worth, I am Verriel, Warp Speaker and He Who Commands Them. Fun titles and I just know you'll commit them to heart, but Verriel or Master shall suffice for addressing me in our time together. " Another dark underground chamber, oh boy! Oh dear gods what was that in the corner.

"Have you brought theeem? " A voice like a melodic sigh reached out to them from the back of the chamber. Stepping off the last stair their feet were sandal bound feet squished against what seemed to be flesh. The carpet of raw meat had crawled up the walls in places and thick tendons connected the ceiling to the floor or walls in several places. "Our frieeeends are waaaaitinnnng. " A sensation of nausea began to sink into the marines as the voice spoke again. Every eye would find the speaker eventually: a large blob of human flesh that seemed to be a multitude of bodies that had melded together as one. Half formed faces and torsos laid upon flabby folds of skin or used deformed limbs to explore the surroundings. Grotesque mass easily twice as tall as any of them and many times wider its presence dominated the back wall. Stretching out from the highest point of the mass was an androgynous figure that had formed from the waist up. Flesh clung to bone and yet an undeniable aura of power radiated from the abomination. A dark purple cowl was pulled over its head, leaving cracked lips and a patch of flesh distinctly lacking a nose visible to them.

"Yes, yes they have been brought. Contain yourself for a moment while I brief them. " A spindly arm extended several feet out from the top most figure, caressing the Word Bearer's helm before withdrawing. Leathery flesh hung from the limb like webbing or a curtain. Verriel paid this no mind, nor did he acknowledge or mention the shift in their surroundings. For any of the damned that might take notice the entrance had vanished and the chamber seemed to of grown, looking more like the cavernous expanse of a Tyranid hive as fleshy walls and quivering sinew stretched out until unnatural darkness claimed any semblance of visibility. Flesh twisted and rose like fountain waters from the floor and began to take shape into humanoid form.

"Your first task will be to aid in our negotiations with the other factions here in the Eye of Terror. We're looking to add a little extra oomph to our dealings with the Dark Mechanicus and Iron Warriors, in this case a fugitive. " Armored hand extended toward a fleshy simulacrum of what was at first glance a heavily augmented human. Flesh color had abandoned the form and instead a deathly paleness took over before taking on a metallic hue. A robe of stretched skin turned into a bruised blue/purple coloring and mouth began to tear itself apart until a bloody grin that looked like a deliberate carving job was visible. "This is the disgraced Arch-Magos Torusvek, formerly of the Dark Mechanicum and Samech's Forge Bethenemax. A betrayal on his part allowed the Imperium to gain a significant advantage in taking over an entire forge world and breaking the Iron Warrior's 'Iron Collar' worlds. He engineered an escape that allowed him to elude capture from either force and now we have tracked him down to his own little haven on a far flung planet in the system. " Verriel then gestured to more freshly grown simulacrums: A guardsman of Mordia and a woman in carapace armor imprinted with the insignia of the Inquisition.

"The corpse emperor's own miserable flock have also found him and are currently engaging in a full scale assault on his facilities. This is the only factor making this mission possible or worth our time as Torusvek frankly isn't worth our time or attention otherwise. Thankfully we have you. Nothing too critical and if everything falls apart we've lost nothing of value. " Turning about and opening his hands to the fleshy abomination behind him, sorcerer approached and gently set a hand to an area of featureless skin. "In order to deploy you on time and get you back you'll be blessed with the privilege of entering The Coalesced One's own portal. I've established a loyal cult among the mutants within Torusvek's compound, they'll be standing by to open the way and aid you, for the glory of the dark gods. Your mission is to simply get Torusvek back here to us, alive and mostly intact. Is this understood? "

@Draconion @Colapse @Redthirst

"Into an active warzone without armour?" comments Silim dryly, "What intelligence on known enemy force dispositions?"

Seing the Bassilica again had still been a view, especially now that some healthyness had returned to hus body, once again letting it function on a higher level than just survival.
Within the armoury they had been given a bigger choice in weapons than he had expected, and Actual bolt weapons was not a bad thing, picking just a simple combat knife for now, nothing Else here was much better, and no staff here designed for channeling power, the classic choice would be good, and a bolter and bolt pistol would alone be alot.


As they Got pulled further along, and into a chamber brimming with mutoid power, they had been revealed to what Aphael guessed as some sort of dark mechanicus adept, taking everything of knowlegde and change upon hus own quest for knowlegde.
They where not Being toyed with for sure, the mission before them would be hard, especially given they where still rusty, but this was simply their curret lot as the pennence soldiers they had become, Silim asking a right question, though ofcause he had to prove his arrogance again, But such was things, and surely he would be usefull in the coming times.
"Yes and when will we depart?"

"Without an armor. The lot of you were souls worthy of such scorn by the gods were you not? I'm sure you'll manage. As for the enemy forces the regiments present seemed to be mechanized infantry and whatever tricks the Inquisition has up its sleeves. You'll also be dealing with the elements of Torusvek's forces loyal to him. Machinery, servitors, vehicles, Forge guard and what not. Your support will be whatever the mutants have on hand, being rebels for all intents and purposes there is no real telling what this will involve. "

<Armory>
Astoro/Mordethac walked into the armory and surveyed the collection brought before them. He frowned seeing that there was no armor available. Looking around at the armory he spotted the others taking weapons and supplies.

He found 10 yards of rope (Rope always seemed to come in handy) and he wrapped it around his torso, hanging it from the shoulder and across his chest. Hopefully this way it would provide his shoulder and chest with some much-needed protection. Now weapons...

He looked at the rack of bolters and frowned, without his helmet sensors he wouldn't be as good of a shot and without power armor the recoil would cause further inaccuracy, not to mention the lack of a butt-stock. Flamer? Nah... He needed something that did some damage, some...carnage. Blood-letting.

He looked around and saw an old sight. He didn't recognize them at first but then it kicked in: Shotguns. picking up one of them and inspecting it he felt a strange sense of nostalgia as his mimetic conditioning and scout training reminded him with instinctual familiarity of the workings of an Astartes Assault Shotgun.

(Okay this is going on for too long so I am just going to shorten it)

He finds a bandoliers of shells for it and a back-mounted holster. He finds a 'scissor' ( https://i.ytimg.com/vi/aQ2OuFybC9k/maxresdefault.jpg) which he hangs on a bandolier for easy access, and also finds a Sica/Kopis machete sword and scabbard. He also gets a Bolt pistol as well as some clips for it which he stores in a satchel he finds.

<Briefing>
Mordethac/Astoro was slightly repulsed by the thing in front of him. Although nothing could compare to that sewer and 'Sonny'. After listening to the plan and trying not to stare at the... thing on the wall and around them he cleared his throat. "So" he said to the sorcerer "After we infiltrate the compound and capture the target. What then? What is our extraction?"

No armor friend, keep it to your melee weapons, the shotgun and is that shotcannon supposed to be a bolt pistol?