The sun burned a bright orange as it crested the horizon, concrete bunkers lost their gray color in favor of the sun's own. Shadows in the shape of towers lengthened from the barrels of Basilisk batteries and the assortment of armored vehicles sitting in wait of orders. In the distance scheduled barrages woke the guardsmen waiting for their shift of duty. The shells fell short, they always fell short, the forces of Chaos just loved to tease the guardsmen with the very item they wanted.

The planet of Netat was an agri-world located in Segmentum Obscurus, it was used to Chaos raids and as such they had built a large fortress on the largest plateu the planet could offer. Solid walls rose from the now blackened rocks and bastions holding stationary cannons belched their payloads near the Imperial Guard encampment. It was a sad state of affairs for the planet and the now skeletal trophies that hung from the walls danced with the wind to mock the guardsmen who could only watch on as the bright yellow and red plumes of the explosions were swallowed by the dark brown of the ground it had just wounded.

The 'Tall Tower', as they had called it, was the PDF's bastion to hold off any raiders who would occasionally visit the planet for plunder and slaves. A year ago a massive Chaos force was reported in a nearby valley, the majority of the PDF forces moved out to engage the Chaos forces in the Valley. When the force reached the valley they set up a quick perimeter and unleashed a barrage of heavy ordnance upon the massed army of chaos, only to kill slaves who had been tied to the ground. Before the PDF commander could realise that the enemy force wasn't responding to the attack, the Chaos Sorceror Kelthad used the freshly spilt blood to summon an act of the Chaos gods. Boiling blood and tissue poured from behind the PDF and washed them into the valley, their bodies and vehicles were smashed against the rocks and any PDF unfortunate enough not to be killed by the crushing force drowned as their skin began to peel from their bodies.

Garbled reports and screams filtered to the Tall Towers as Chaos terminators and assault marines under the 'Skullscreamers' legion barreled through the halls crushing the PDF who remained underfoot. They successfully took the bastion within ten minutes and those who did not convert to their side were lined up along the edge of the walls. At the call of Kelthad they were simultaneously pushed off the edge, the nooses around their necks snapped their spines as their fall was suddenly arrested. Several PDF bodies tumbled a full 400 feet before marring the rocks below with a dark red splotch. Some poor souls screamed until they met the ground.

Within a month reports of the attack had managed to reach the Sector's Commander and the nearest Imperial Guard regiment was diverted to retake Netat.The Fluvian 37th mechanised arrived on planet and managed to reach the edges of the Tall Towers before being pushed back to their current position. The 10 months of stalled fighting and failed attacks had taken their toll against them. They ran out of medicines and soon the taint of Chaos began to affect them, mutations were dealt with according to the imperial creed at first but the rate of mutation increased to the point of being the norm. Commissars were unable to execute the men under their command as they began to exhibit their own mutations. The Fluvian mechanised realized that no matter the outcome of this small war they would never be able to return to the empire, suicide rates climbed to the point that it had to be outlawed. Commissars spread the word that anyone who comitted suicide or attempted it would be damned to an eternity of suffering by the Eccleschiary.

The Fluvian commander, General Gregor Nussberg had reached his position after the execution of the previous commander General Maximillian Findet and was used to his own mutation and those of his men but he wouldn't allow the forces of Chaos an easy victory. He would normally walk amongst his men but today was different, he had petitioned for reinforcements before the mutations had affected the remaining members of his regiment and today he had found out that they would be arriving within the day.

"Commissar Brent," Gregor said as he removed his peaked cap within the war room. "I am sure you carried out my orders?"

"Yes general." the commissar responded, his now yellowed eye moved on its own as he spoke. "The men are doing their best to cover all mutations, the troops with only slight blemishes are prepared to greet the reinforcements, and the medics are busy removing excess limbs from those unlucky few."

"Now its just us who need to hide how we've changed." Gregor sighed, his own mutation had only caused his teeth to grow fang-like in appearance. Gregor affixed his rebreather and remembered how he had ordered all of his men to wear them after they witnessed the first mutation. He had hoped they would stop the spread, a hope he lost within a month. Gregor watched as Commissar Brent affixed an eyepatch to cover his unruly eye and patted down his tattered uniform.
....................

The Nucians' troopships began landing in wilted fields and spilled forth their cargo. The Nucian guardsmen noticed disheveled troopers holding large signs with directions to where they would set up camp and where they would keep their vehicles. They also noticed that every trooper had warts or boils on their hands and faces.

"Ugly sons of guns, I wonder what their women look like." one Nucian trooper remarked as he unloaded his pack.

"Like that." one of his comrades said while pointing at what he thought was a female.

"By the Emperor I wonder how they keep their planet populated." the original trooper responed in disgust.
.................

"What are we going to do with their Commissars?" Commissar Brent asked as he looked through a window at the bulky landers.

"Hopefully nothing," General Gregor said as he took a mug of caffeine in his hand before remembering his rebreather was on, "if they find out we may have some friendly fire issues.".

"Already contemplating the murder of members of the commissariat general?" Brent opened his overcoat to reveal a holstered bolt pistol, "That's usually the first crime committed by traitorous regiments."

"I would rather have my men die in combat against the Emperor's enemies than in a firing line where they do no good." Gregor said flatly while preparing some papers on his desk. "Their commander should be here soon for a briefing, try to look presentable."

They both allowed themselves a small chuckle seeing as though the best outfits they had were moth eaten or tattered and smeared with mud.

.......................................

In this RP there will be three(3) main factions that your character will be affiliated with, these three factions are the Fluvian IG, the Nucian IG, and the Skullscreamers legion of Chaos Marines.

The Fluvians are seasoned veterans, but suffer from slight mutations due to prolonged exposure to the forces of Chaos, the Nucians are the fresh reinforcements who are mutation free and are eager to fight, the Skullscreamers are a group of CSM who excell at planetary assault and defense and mainly work to protect high ranking Chaos Lords or Sorcerors. Each of these main affiliations have smaller companies that are attached to them so if you want to have the characteristics of a Fluvian trooper, but don't want to be a Fluvian you can say that your character is part of a company that was attached to the regiment.

You can be anything within any of the armies besides a commanding officer; squad leaders, tank commanders, stormtroopers, troopers, specialists, CSM, and heretics/traitors are all available roles(if you have a question about a possible rank I may have forgotten about it so PM me if you want to be something besides what I listed).

Your choice of character does not increase or decrease your chances of survival, only your actions decide how long you will live. Because there is the potential of players being on opposing sides I will try to guide players away from each other with events. However, there may be times when I am unable to prevent opposing sides from meeting in these cases I will use dice and chance to determine what happens. Each player will have the statistics of a terminator with three wounds and a storm bolter, I will roll and see who wounds first. The first to be wounded will lose the encounter and will fall back, if the player should lose all three wounds their character will die(if you want to make another character after your character's death PM me).

As a note these wounds do not count as actual RPable wounds they are for my reference and use only. Think of the wounds as strikes in the overall game.

I will do my best to allow you free reign in terms of the RP, and any serious arguments should be brought to my attention. If a serious argument breaks out in the RP I may be forced to punish the instigator by removing one wound, if this leads to character death the character will die. I will monitor the RPing and will hopefully announce an event every 3-4 weeks or on a 'as needed' basis depending on the RP. The events will be announced on Monday afternoon and the characters will PM me their responses, I will read the responses on Friday and start writing the results on Saturday. I will then check to see if any new responses have come in on Sunday and make any finishing touches or changes. If an RPer doesn't respond by this time I will do my best to match their event actions with previous RPs. (PM me if you take issue with an event concerning your character and we may be able to work something out). This way the RP should be able to start on Monday in response to the event and so on.

The final event will have *****FINAL***** affixed to it and that will be the event further RPs should be based off of.

Example Character Sheet:

Name: Gregor Nussberg
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Fluvian Mechanised
Appearance: Dark brown hair, brown eyes, 6' 1". Lightly tanned and thin, olive green uniform with a matching peak cap, a golden cog symbol on his cap representing his mechanized affiliation. His sharp teeth are hidden behind a standard rebreather issued to the mechanized regiment to deal with vehicle fumes.
Background: General Nussberg comes from a line of commanders and was in his second trial under fire when the primary commander was executed for incompetence. He promised Sector Command that he would hold the line and would need reinforcements if he was to retake the Tall Towers bastion. He left behind a wife and three children and regrets the fact that he will never be able to return to them but his conviction helps him continue the fight. Generally a nice guy despite what's happened to him.
Hobbies: Cards and coffee


EDIT: NUCIAN FLUFF THANKS TO NIKEV

Nucia is located close to the outskirts but is large enough to protect/sustain/uphold Imperial interests in its galaxy along with support from its allying planets.

The Nucian's Knights outfitting resembles that of the standard Cadian outfit with a few modifications. In place of a side-arm, Nucian Knights are outfitted with a short-sword for close encounters with the enemy. The Nucian's keep standard gear from then on out, occasionally opting for a better close combat weapon as, being resemblances of knights, feel that honour is gained through close melee combat. The color scheme is a base black with a faded golden outline around seams and straps and bear the mark of The Lady of Nucia(imagine two infinity symbols perpendicular with the centers black and outlines faded gold/gold) upon their arms and over their hearts.



PLAYER LIST:
SilverMk2
Name: Grunthin Eldthir
Age: 36
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Fluvian Mechanised (tank commander).
Appearance: Mottled brown hair, green eyes, 6' 0". Palid and thin, dark green uniform with a dark green tank commanders hood and helmet, a silver cog symbol with a silver star on his cap representing his mechanized affiliation and rank. Under his uniform his skin is mottled and patchy, with raw muscles on display which look almost like his skin has been burned off. There are small bony spurs along his spine and at his elbows.
Background: Grunthin Eldthir is a tank commander of the Fluvian Mechanised. He is in command of a tank hunter pattern Leman Russ Vanquisher, designation "AG02", called "Final Rest". A solid man, that can be depended upon to get the job done. Joined the guard at age 25 after drifting through life knowing something was missing and not knowing what. He found what was missing in the form of his 63 tonne mistress.

Final Rest: Has a hull mounted lascannon and sponson mounted heavy bolters. Is also draped in camo netting. Painted a dappled olive green and ash brown.
Crew: Commander, Gunner, Driver, Loader, 2 Sponson Gunners .



FM Ninja 048
Name: Ellenar Fett
Age: 26
Sex: female
Affiliation: Cyprian Spec Recon

Appearance: shoulder length red hair, green eyes, 5' 11".
wears Modified Kasrkin Uniform, has slightly larger sholder pad on Left side, flexible armored half skirt covering the back of her legs, helmet has larger Visor (think ODST)and contains a rebreather, backpack contains the powerpacks and rations, has utility belt containing other things like Combat knive, climbing rope, Cloak(in pouch)

Equipment: Hot shot lasgun, frak/krak grenades, combat knife, climbing rope(very thin, but strong, attached to grapple), cameoline cloak, compact vox, ration capsules, binoculars, monomolecular combat knife 'liberated' from a dead Officer, palmtop hololithic projector

Personality: "I'll relinquish one bullet. Where do you want it?" "That's right. Now, I'm going in. If I find heteitcs, I'll kill them. Anybody gets in my way, I'll kill them, too." "Surrender, Or don't. That would be more fun." "plans B,C,D,E,F&G are all the same, complete the mission and get back to base" ""Listen, you don't like me, and I sure as hell don't like you. But if we don't do something, we're all gonna die." ""I can pretty much guarantee that at least one of us will make it out of here in one piece, and it's not you"

Background: Raised in the Protective dome cities of Cypria Elysiant, she was enroled in Basic training 3 years earlier(12yrs old) than other guardsmen raised from Cypria after being Identified as a candidate for potential advanced training, after bing put through rigorous training in terrain halls of the Cyprian training facilities. Identified for a command position within her training group, she was placed in charge of squad 3-6/4, aka "the moving shadows". The moving shadows were attached to one of the Cyprian Mobile Recon regiments, and sent into an active theartre against a minor ork Waaagh, which was ended when the Shadows managed to infaltrate behind ork lines and call down a missile barrage on top of the main ork encampment, they were transited out system to the next engagement...



Gosty(NOTE THIS CHARACTER IS NOT THE NORM, HE IS CONFINED TO AN ADVISORY/NON-COMBAT ROLE THIS NOTE IS FOR FUTURE CHARACTER CREATORS)
Name: Gra'ksirra (The Story Teller)

Rank: Lord of Change ( a very old one at that )

Legion/ Warband: The Twisting

Wargear: Old, heavily worn tabard, and thick grime stained bandages enveloping most of his body, including his face. He carries A long, gnarled wooden staff.

Age: It was said, that Gra'ksirra was the first of the Tzeentchian greater daemons ever to have come into existence, but it is also said that all daemons appeared at the same time. Such is the way of Chaos. Needless to say, he is immeasurably ancient, and wise, and even warlords of khorne have paid tribute, and listened to the tales he spins.

Appearance: He is a large Daemon; easily three times the height of a dreadnaught, however, his age has hunched him over, so he seems smaller than he actually is. His feathers, which on other Lords of change would be bright multi coloured, and painful for the eyes, are dull, and faded. His body has bandages wrapped round it, to, as legend says, to hold him together...

Background: The ancient old daemon, was given a great role by the master of change, Tzeentch himself. It is said, that Tzeentch asked Gra’ksirra to record all of history, and to retell any from it to any who would pay tribute to the Changer of ways. He took on this role, and created his own realm within the warp, a tiny moon, that drifts aimlessly through the warp. Here, upon the pockmarked surface, is a small house, and within it, a small study. It is from here, that he records everything that once was, and everything that will be. Recently, Gra’ksirra has been spotted frequently on doomed worlds, planets about to be destroyed by warp storm, or meteor. In the brief window of opportunity before the planets end, He will release his Warband, the twisted, upon the world, for his own amusement.

Additional info: Some say, Gra’ksirra is so old, that he now knows, every shape that a horror of Tzeentch will flow into. Which, considering horrors constantly change into different shapes..... He’s pretty damn old.


Tyranic Marta
Name: Tyranic Marta
Age: 3435
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Skullscreamers Bikers
Appearance: As a Skullscreamer his armour and bike are streamlined and slim, although just as effective, his Slaanesh markings are tattoed onto his skin, and are veined in spreading lines all over his armour. His blue and gold armour is pearlescent, shifting colours in his armour entrace mortal eyes. His bike is a 2 metre beast, deamonically possesed and glowing in sibilant tunes that float through the air, audible even through the clash of battle. Tyranics helmet is melded to his head and the front half is shaped to look like an open mouthed skull. His only weapons, the twin linked bolter on his bike, and a Power sword are both ornately carved and shaped for maximum effect. On the pillion of his bike two short metal poles rise up and a banner of slaanesh, made from the skin of a Deamonette, carries the will of Slaanesh to the battle field.
Background: From the time of his legions creation Tyranic Marta has been the vindicator of his superiors, always the first into battle with his two best friends, Rathos and Merilan. His armour and bike have been extensivly reconstructed by the dark mechanicus and sorcerors of the legion to best display the traits of Slaanesh. From that point onwards Tyranic Marta has been the banner bearer of the Skullscreamers, always first into the battle and always the one to whom the Skullscreamers rally if all seems lost
Hobbies: -





Name: Commissar Nikev Sism
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Nucian(burning ) Knights
Appearance: Shaggy brown hair and a constant 5'oclock shadow. Blue eyes, with a smile to lighten the darkness, accompanied by a hardened physic that is required by Nucian captains.

Background: Nikev is a hard ass get the job done kind of guy, who occasionally likes to relax with a nice beer with the soldiers when said job is done. His charismatic skills had gained him the love of most of the regiment he fights with. Being Nucian born it seemed to be an error by a worker in the imperium, as hard as that is to believe, sent him to be a Commissar to his homeworld Nucia. Accompanied by his winged wolf mount Manodire, he is a inspiration to those around them and has never had to execute someone, believe that a True leader leads by inspiration and example, not by causing fear in his own troops. As part of the Nucian army, Nikev must perform duties over the three main factions consisted within, The Nucian Knights, The Steel of Razengoar, and The Angels of Ordain.

---Faction---- The Steel of Razengoar's soldiers and machine come from the mineral world of Razengoar and due to their planets conditions rarely go into the sunlight without severe protection. Razengoar's surface is covered in mineral and dust clouds that block most of the sun forcing the inhabitants to stay indoors, eventually leading up to the sensitivity. As another effect, this causes all of Razengoar's vast ranks of Tanks, Artillery, and Light Armour to all be completely covered and hardened. Their outfits as well as the Nucian's and Ordainians are solid black, though instead of the insignia the Nucian's bear, they either bear no symbols, or symbols of their family houses.

Hobbies: Hanging out with the standard soldiers and doing activities along with them, cardplaying, drinking, betting and general tomfoolery. When not with any soldiers, Nikev plays with Manodire.



Karon
Name: Earl Wallace
Age: 31
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Fluvian Guardsmen Sergeant
Appearance: Tall, black man. Roughly 6', bald, brown eyes. Virtually unaffected by the mutations so far.
Background: Coming from a hive-city, Earl grew up in one of the local gangs. He learned all the tricks of the trade in being a hitman and a drug dealer. After most of his gang were gunned down in a rivalry incident, he signed into the Imperial Guard so he wouldn't die. He's been in the Guard since he was nineteen years old, and was promoted to the rank of Sergeant four years ago after showing fanatical ruthlessness in the name of the Emperor, running through incoming fire to toss several grenades into a bunker with several heavy bolters that had pinned down his comrades. Very popular with his soldiers, partly because he provides them with Grinweed, an outlawed narcotic.
Equipment: All black Imperial Guard Uniform, a hot-shot laspistol, and a one-handed power-flail.
Hobbies: Cards, Lho-Sticks, and Grinweed.


Name: Rev'ex Craxx
Age: ????
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Skull Screamers Aspiring Champion.
Appearance: Tall,bald and pale of skin,Rev'ex is clad in the armour of the Skull Screamers,his eyes glowing a malevolent red,his mouth a smiling cavern of razor sharp fangs.
Rev'ex is armed with clawed powerfist and an ornate Bolt Pistol,but his prefered weapon is a barbed whip which hangs at his side.
Background: Rev'ex is a devote follower of Slaanesh,delighting in the canopy of agonized screams of those he ensnares,over the centuries he has risen to command of a squad of like minded warriors,who's primary objectives are to bestow blissful agony onto their foe.
Hobbies: The ritualistic torture of others.


Name: Commissar Ezreal Astet
Age: 43
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Commisar in the fluvian regiment.
Appearance: Black short trimmed hair, Standard commissar clothing.
Mutation: small bone spikes are beginning to grow out of his back.
Background: He was the son of a noble family on the planet Ara, but an ork Waagh! appeared out of the warp. In the ensuing 4 years of war, Ezreal lost both his parents.
The commanding gneral of the planets defences, felt pity for the lone boy. So he shipped him of to the Schola Progenium. There he gladly embraced the demanding and unremmiting regime
of prayer, study and physical excercises. These years of punishing trainig had honed his mind and body with steel resolve. After this he was accepted in to the ranks of the stormtroopers.

Want to join, will post background after I get a reply from you

Nucians already exist.. don't 'spose you've spoken to NIkev yet, Nachos?

I'd join - even having not read the fluff. But I dislike that Terminator stat-thing so much that I will not whilst it is there.

Take it to the disscussion thread Dark, don't post that here

I will play if you don't mind. I will edit this post later to attach my character to.


Name: Grunthin Eldthir
Age: 36
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Fluvian Mechanised (tank commander).
Appearance: Mottled brown hair, green eyes, 6' 0". Palid and thin, dark green uniform with a dark green tank commanders hood and helmet, a silver cog symbol with a silver star on his cap representing his mechanized affiliation and rank. Under his uniform his skin is mottled and patchy, with raw muscles on display which look almost like his skin has been burned off. There are small bony spurs along his spine and at his elbows.
Background: Grunthin Eldthir is a tank commander of the Fluvian Mechanised. He is in command of a tank hunter pattern Leman Russ Vanquisher, designation "AG02", called "Final Rest". A solid man, that can be depended upon to get the job done. Joined the guard at age 25 after drifting through life knowing something was missing and not knowing what. He found what was missing in the form of his 63 tonne mistress.
Personality: A stoic man who is akin to the eye in a storm - calm while all around him is chaos. Generally quiet and dignified although he often surprises people who do not know him with his wit and humour. His personal philosophy is "hit once, hit hard" which manifests itself in his dealings with others; all but the most foolhardy tricksters learned not to play barrack room pranks on him and his crew after he, singlehandedly and in a single night, repaid months of trickery by taping all those responsible naked and upside down to the flag pole in the centre of the main parade ground the morning of full regimental review.


Final Rest: Has a hull mounted lascannon and sponson mounted heavy bolters. Is also draped in camo netting. Painted a dappled olive green and ash brown.
Crew: Commander, Gunner, Driver, Loader, 2 Sponson Gunners .
Commander: Grunthin Eldthir – exposed muscles, small bone spurs on spine and elbow.
Gunner: Conwynn Anden – deep voice. Big. Bleeding eyes under goggles.
Loader: Darror Aermarth – slight sores.
Driver: Erlag Olowen - sores
Right Sponson: Lorich Curthar – had an extra arm until it was removed.
Left Sponson: Koland Bylith – slightly wasted musculature




http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Leman_Russ_Vanquisher#Armaments_and_Upgrades

I'm in if thats ok. Will do char sheet later

Definitely interested Nachos...but I'm still unclear as to how you plan to pull of everyone having Terminator stats...IMO it might be better to do away with "Player Terminators" and have the highest Chaos level a player can opt for being a " CSM Aspiring champion"...just a thought.

@ Fitzz I think this whole terminator shenanigan has been blown out of proportion. All it's being used for is to determine who wins the fights in these encounters. Therefore, to stop complaints, having everyone having equal stats seems fair, does it not?

I can just picture the arguments between using actual stats.

"Oh Ghosty, your conscript seems to have run into FMs Terminator."

"Oh. Whats my BS again?"

"2"

"..."

Just an example!

With everyone having equal stats, it removes bias. Or somesuch.

ghosty wrote:@ Fitzz I think this whole terminator shenanigan has been blown out of proportion. All it's being used for is to determine who wins the fights in these encounters. Therefore, to stop complaints, having everyone having equal stats seems fair, does it not?

I can just picture the arguments between using actual stats.

"Oh Ghosty, your conscript seems to have run into FMs Terminator."

"Oh. Whats my BS again?"

"2"

"..."

Just an example!

With everyone having equal stats, it removes bias. Or somesuch.

I get what your saying ghosty,and believe me I'm all for a balanced/equal stats line for PCs for he most part,but could not the same degree of "fairness" be achieved by perhaps a minor tweak to stats,for example making guard players faster and more agile than CSM players?
Again just musing here...in no way do I wish to monkey wrench Nachos plans.

Commander Grunthin Eldthir reporting for duty

when will Nachos come online, my characters almost done but needs some confirmation of key parts

mmmmeeehhh!


screw it, if he doesn't like it i'll change It

Name: Ellenar Fett
Age: 26
Sex: female
Affiliation: Cyprian Spec Recon

Appearance: shoulder length red hair, green eyes, 5' 11".
wears Modified Kasrkin Uniform, has slightly larger sholder pad on Left side, flexible armored half skirt covering the back of her legs, helmet has larger Visor (think ODST)and contains a rebreather, backpack contains the powerpacks and rations, has utility belt containing other things like Combat knive, climbing rope, Cloak(in pouch)

Equipment: Hot shot lasgun, frak/krak grenades, combat knife, climbing rope(very thin, but strong, attached to grapple), cameoline cloak, compact vox, ration capsules, binoculars, monomolecular combat knife 'liberated' from a dead Officer, palmtop hololithic projector

Personality: "I'll relinquish one bullet. Where do you want it?" "That's right. Now, I'm going in. If I find heteitcs, I'll kill them. Anybody gets in my way, I'll kill them, too." "Surrender, Or don't. That would be more fun." "plans B,C,D,E,F&G are all the same, complete the mission and get back to base" ""Listen, you don't like me, and I sure as hell don't like you. But if we don't do something, we're all gonna die." ""I can pretty much guarantee that at least one of us will make it out of here in one piece, and it's not you"

Background: Raised in the Protective dome cities of Cypria Elysiant, she was enroled in Basic training 3 years earlier(12yrs old) than other guardsmen raised from Cypria after being Identified as a candidate for potential advanced training, after bing put through rigorous training in terrain halls of the Cyprian training facilities. Identified for a command position within her training group, she was placed in charge of squad 3-6/4, aka "the moving shadows". The moving shadows were attached to one of the Cyprian Mobile Recon regiments, and sent into an active theartre against a minor ork Waaagh, which was ended when the Shadows managed to infaltrate behind ork lines and call down a missile barrage on top of the main ork encampment, they were transited out system to the next engagement...

The Moving Shadows were attached to the Nucians Just before they're transit to the Fluvian theatre, their small transport -just- touching down as they transited to warp, They attended a short Briefing, where they were given hololithic slates and large booklets abvout the planet. they began modifying they're Taruros transports for the conditions of a war torn planet, the 4 vehicles having been modifled with Ork glyphs and markings to make them less obvious at a distance.

Underlings: squad 3-6/4 "the moving shadows"


I figure I might start losing NPCs soon so:

01. Ellanor Fett, capt. Hot-shot lasgun
02. Noemi Mcgahan, Hot-shot lasgun, master vox
03. Erik Chausse, las repeater
04. Kathrine Yagi, Long-las
05. Marc Mansur, Melta gunner, Hot-shot laspistol
06. Darren Sabourin, Hot-shot lasgun
07. Odessa Gadbois, Hot-shot lasgun
08. Cody Coombe, Hot-shot lasgun
09. Javier Bausch, Hot-shot lasgun
10. Mathew Doughtie, Hot-shot lasgun

everybody has: some sort of sidearm, frak/krak grenades, combat knife, climbing rope(very thin & strong w/i grapple), cameoline cloak,compact vox, ration capsules, binoculars, det cord, extra ammo, all your standard spec. forces stuff

mounted in 4 tauros venators, two three seater and two two seaters, one of each armed with a lascannon and the other two armed with multilazers, all have camo netting, smoke launchers + HK missiles

Will do a character sheet tonight.

Alright the thing with the termi stats is simply because I'm not good enough to create a balanced character sheet.

This is my first time GMing a roleplay so I want to get the basics of it down first. While adding agility to a guard player and slowing down CSM players is an expert idea I am nowhere near an expert.

I will agree that player termies are a bit too much and limit it to aspiring champions(with no demonic possession) for the Chaos side.

To reitirate the Termi-statline is actually in place to show that all players have an equal chance of luck in the RP.

As an example if an IG and CSM meet up;

I will roll a D6 to see who 'shoots' first.
I will then roll until one wounds the other.
I will RP the end of the event.

As a further example the CSM loses a 'wound'.

Champion Schmoe smashed his bulky fists down towards the hapless guardsman only to have the guardsman roll to the side in the nick of time. Schmoe tried to pull his fist back and realized he had embedded it into the pillar the guardsman was cowering behind. He pulled his hand free and caused the pillar to crash down around him. Schmoe climbed unharmed from the rubble to look for his earlier victim only to see that he had escaped.

Schmoe is relatively unharmed and so is the guardsman, but in my score keeping Schmoe has lost a wound.

I hope that's a better explanation of the whole stat thing.

As to the whole Nucians thing, yes I did ask Nikev. In fact he should be joining the RP along with The Bringer and Tyranic Martyr. They did help me develope this RP afterall.

@dark, if the termi thing isn't for you it isn't for you. Unfortunately I don't really have any experience with balancing characters so its the best thing I have in my arsenal right now.

halonachos wrote:Alright the thing with the termi stats is simply because I'm not good enough to create a balanced character sheet.

This is my first time GMing a roleplay so I want to get the basics of it down first. While adding agility to a guard player and slowing down CSM players is an expert idea I am nowhere near an expert.

I will agree that player termies are a bit too much and limit it to aspiring champions(with no demonic possession) for the Chaos side.

To reitirate the Termi-statline is actually in place to show that all players have an equal chance of luck in the RP.

As an example if an IG and CSM meet up;

I will roll a D6 to see who 'shoots' first.
I will then roll until one wounds the other.
I will RP the end of the event.

As a further example the CSM loses a 'wound'.

Champion Schmoe smashed his bulky fists down towards the hapless guardsman only to have the guardsman roll to the side in the nick of time. Schmoe tried to pull his fist back and realized he had embedded it into the pillar the guardsman was cowering behind. He pulled his hand free and caused the pillar to crash down around him. Schmoe climbed unharmed from the rubble to look for his earlier victim only to see that he had escaped.

Schmoe is relatively unharmed and so is the guardsman, but in my score keeping Schmoe has lost a wound.

I hope that's a better explanation of the whole stat thing.

As to the whole Nucians thing, yes I did ask Nikev. In fact he should be joining the RP along with The Bringer and Tyranic Martyr. They did help me develope this RP afterall.

@dark, if the termi thing isn't for you it isn't for you. Unfortunately I don't really have any experience with balancing characters so its the best thing I have in my arsenal right now.

Sounds good to me. I don't really see much wrong with it.

Sounds like a good system Nachos...I'll most likely be throwing my hat in the ring on the side of Chaos.

Alrighty then, I'm going to let you guys set up your characters before I continue with the, OMG, first major event.

Also, please try to include a hobby. It may seem incredibly trivial but it helps me determine what the character is like in the event that I have to RP a response for he,she, or it.

could I just add a personality then?

Sure you can add a personality then, I tried to spice up the bland character sheet with a hobby section,but I guess you guys don't like nice things.

In all seriousness, I have no problem with that.

Would the ritualistic tourture of prisoners count as a hobby?

Only if he truly enjoys it, if its his job then it isn't a hobby.

halonachos wrote:Only if he truly enjoys it, if its his job then it isn't a hobby.

Oh...no..not his "job",I'm thinking in terms of full blown sadistic maniac here.

I just thought personality because a Stormtrooper isn't going to do much exept, eat, sleep, train, yell at normal gaurdsmen for doing things wrong, and clean their gear

I'm thinking along the Lines of a Chaos Aspiring Champion who honestly takes great pleasure in inflicting prolonged and agonizing pain on anyone he happens to get his clawed mitts on.

Its all good, I wanted a diversity of characters and so far I've been getting them.

I'm stuck.

I want to do Chaos, after mulling it over, but I don't really no what to do after that. I tried out a Chaos Terminator, then felt way to overpowered, then I tried a Raptor, but I felt I couldn't develop the character past the entire "Let me land on your face feet first" aesthetic they have going on.

Ideally, and I know this won't be aloud, I'd like to use this previous character, someone that I really liked when I made it, and developed a large deal of information about.


In theory...

Name: Gra'ksirra (The Story Teller)

Rank: Lord of Change ( a very old one at that )

Legion/ Warband: The Twisting

Wargear: Old, heavily worn tabard, and thick grime stained bandages enveloping most of his body, including his face. He carries A long, gnarled wooden staff.

Age: It was said, that Gra'ksirra was the first of the Tzeentchian greater daemons ever to have come into existence, but it is also said that all daemons appeared at the same time. Such is the way of Chaos. Needless to say, he is immeasurably ancient, and wise, and even warlords of khorne have paid tribute, and listened to the tales he spins.

Appearance: He is a large Daemon; easily three times the height of a dreadnaught, however, his age has hunched him over, so he seems smaller than he actually is. His feathers, which on other Lords of change would be bright multi coloured, and painful for the eyes, are dull, and faded. His body has bandages wrapped round it, to, as legend says, to hold him together...

Background: The ancient old daemon, was given a great role by the master of change, Tzeentch himself. It is said, that Tzeentch asked Gra’ksirra to record all of history, and to retell any from it to any who would pay tribute to the Changer of ways. He took on this role, and created his own realm within the warp, a tiny moon, that drifts aimlessly through the warp. Here, upon the pockmarked surface, is a small house, and within it, a small study. It is from here, that he records everything that once was, and everything that will be. Recently, Gra’ksirra has been spotted frequently on doomed worlds, planets about to be destroyed by warp storm, or meteor. In the brief window of opportunity before the planets end, He will release his Warband, the twisted, upon the world, for his own amusement.

Additional info: Some say, Gra’ksirra is so old, that he now knows, every shape that a horror of Tzeentch will flow into. Which, considering horrors constantly change into different shapes..... He’s pretty damn old.

IC: A trio of sorcerers entered the ritual circle, each one garbed in fine silks, in every possible colour. And a good deal of impossible ones too. Around them, in a circle, were candles that gave off thick blue incense forming a cloud that hung above them, like an omniscient cloud. The three looked around them briefly, checking everything was in place, before beginning the ritual. They spoke in garbled tongues, language that assaulted the ears as it was spoken, actually causing pain to any within ear shot. Blood began to dribble from the sorcerers ears, and the pace of their chant began to quicken. It pulsed like a beating heart, and above them, the smoke began to swirl in an anticlockwise direction. Nearby slaves, and mutants, chained to the floor of the summoning chamber screamed and convulsed, as amongst the flickering smoke, they saw leering faces, faces that stared right into their souls. As the chanting began to reach its climax, The cloud above them had formed into a vortex, with a centre of calm in the middle, in which the three sorcerers stood. The eye of the storm, an area of pure warp energy. The prisoners by this time were dead; their souls sucked clean out of their bodies by the ritual. Suddenly, the chanting stopped, and abruptly, without any sort of warning, the chaos magi exploded in a fountain of gore, gristle and bone. In the centre of the carnage stood a huge figure. Its feathers were dull and greasy. Its lanky body was bandaged heavily with thick linen, and a slick of black fluid oozed from between them. Its staff was of simple design, no more than a simple stave, with the odd knot along its surface. However, it seemed to radiate obvious power. Its crooked frame was stooped, and its head bobbed on the end of its long thin neck like a bashed in egg. Resting upon the tip of its curved beak, was a pair of reading glasses, and in its left hand, was a long feathered quill, with ink still dripping from its tip. Gra’ksirra looked around his new surroundings with a deep sigh. People always summon him when he’s just in the middle of doing something important…

Now, would you be against someone playing a greater daemon, provided they weren't into the whole 'going to war thing'? Taking more os a passive role, watching battles unfold, making notes, advising generals, and similar?

Sounds fine to me as long as he doesn't rape everyone with Bolts of Change.

Nah, he'd be probably be to busy rewriting this thread, to add to his stacks of stories.

Added some quotes so you can sort of understand the personality

Name: Tyranic Marta
Age: 3435
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Skullscreamers Bikers
Appearance: As a Skullscreamer his armour and bike are streamlined and slim, although just as effective, his Slaanesh markings are tattoed onto his skin, and are veined in spreading lines all over his armour. His blue and gold armour is pearlescent, shifting colours in his armour entrace mortal eyes. His bike is a 2 metre beast, deamonically possesed and glowing in sibilant tunes that float through the air, audible even through the clash of battle. Tyranics helmet is melded to his head and the front half is shaped to look like an open mouthed skull. His only weapons, the twin linked bolter on his bike, and a Power sword are both ornately carved and shaped for maximum effect. On the pillion of his bike two short metal poles rise up and a banner of slaanesh, made from the skin of a Deamonette, carries the will of Slaanesh to the battle field.
Background: From the time of his legions creation Tyranic Marta has been the vindicator of his superiors, always the first into battle with his two best friends, Rathos and Merilan. His armour and bike have been extensivly reconstructed by the dark mechanicus and sorcerors of the legion to best display the traits of Slaanesh. From that point onwards Tyranic Marta has been the banner bearer of the Skullscreamers, always first into the battle and always the one to whom the Skullscreamers rally if all seems lost
Hobbies: -

ghosty wrote:Nah, he'd be probably be to busy rewriting this thread, to add to his stacks of stories.

^^

He'd probably only spam doombolt when it was absolutely, unavoidably necessary........

Alright, if you do have a greater daemon as a character he will have to remain in an advisory role. If he gets into combat he runs like a little girl. If you agree to those terms then you can have him.

Although if you want a combat character you could always have this greater daemon as a secondary.

But what's his hobby? Make a good one.

am I the only loyalist at the minute?

No, karon is as well. Nikev should also be a loyalist when signs up.

Silver is a Loyalist isn't he?

I'm not sure if he's joking or not to tell the truth. Adding the Nucian fluff to the first post.

Well as I said...I'm going CSM,I should have my character sheet done by tomorrow.
I have a few details I want to work on before typing anything up.

Its all no biggie Fitzz, I was expecting to give over the weekend to getting players and setting everything up.

Right now I think there's something in my attic.

Name: Commissar Nikev Sism

Sex: Male

Affiliation: Nucian(burning ) Knights

Appearance: Shaggy brown hair and a constant 5'oclock shadow. Blue eyes, with a smile to lighten the darkness, accompanied by a hardened physic that is required by Nucian captains.


Background: Nikev is a hard ass get the job done kind of guy, who occasionally likes to relax with a nice beer with the soldiers when said job is done. His charismatic skills had gained him the love of most of the regiment he fights with. Being Nucian born it seemed to be an error by a worker in the imperium, as hard as that is to believe, sent him to be a Commissar to his homeworld Nucia. Accompanied by his winged wolf mount Manodire, he is a inspiration to those around them and has never had to execute someone, believe that a True leader leads by inspiration and example, not by causing fear in his own troops. As part of the Nucian army, Nikev must perform duties over the three main factions consisted within, The Nucian Knights, The Steel of Razengoar, and The Angels of Ordain.

---Faction---- The Steel of Razengoar's soldiers and machine come from the mineral world of Razengoar and due to their planets conditions rarely go into the sunlight without severe protection. Razengoar's surface is covered in mineral and dust clouds that block most of the sun forcing the inhabitants to stay indoors, eventually leading up to the sensitivity. As another effect, this causes all of Razengoar's vast ranks of Tanks, Artillery, and Light Armour to all be completely covered and hardened. Their outfits as well as the Nucian's and Ordainians are solid black, though instead of the insignia the Nucian's bear, they either bear no symbols, or symbols of their family houses.

---Faction--- The Angels of Ordain are a very skilled pilots that come from the highly technological world of Ordain. The people on the planet take exceptional pride in their flying skills and often perform stunts and maneuvers that are deemed suicidal by the means of standard imperial pilots. The pilots and crew often appear as much lighter skinned from others due to not leaving their ships often, in an attempt to be the best pilots out of the navy. The Ordainian outfits consist of standard imperial pilot outfits though entirely black, to express their superior technological capabilities and skills they have have lines of illuminescent light that appears to dance around their uniform, their color is usually determined by their squad and battle-group.

Hobbies: Hanging out with the standard soldiers and doing activities along with them, cardplaying, drinking, betting and general tomfoolery. When not with any soldiers, Nikev plays with Manodire.

halonachos wrote:Its all no biggie Fitzz, I was expecting to give over the weekend to getting players and setting everything up.

Right now I think there's something in my attic.

Something in your attic?...like an old box of minis?...or something alive and scuttleing around?

Alive and scuttling around above my bed. Sounds small so hopefully it is, snow may have forced it inside.

Now I gotta get a stupid ladder out of the garage and go look. I got a machete so wish me luck... I'm going in.

They're coming from the walls!

Just had to add that in.

silver is Fluvian, mutated loyalist, I mean Nugian, fresh loyalist

appart from Nickev, it's his men(ish)

halonachos wrote:Alive and scuttling around above my bed. Sounds small so hopefully it is, snow may have forced it inside.

Now I gotta get a stupid ladder out of the garage and go look. I got a machete so wish me luck... I'm going in.

Good luck Nachos...Ive faced attic critters before,we had a posum get into ours a few years back...but my 10/22 made short work of him.

Geeze, write an RP about a fortress being invaded and look at what happens.


Hopefully its not a possum, we have connected houses over here and the .357 will go right through.

On the other hand with a machete I get +1 attack.

halonachos wrote:

Right now I think there's something in my attic.

Its times like these, that if your miniatures could come alive, they would be most helpful.

halonachos wrote:Geeze, write an RP about a fortress being invaded and look at what happens.


Hopefully its not a possum, we have connected houses over here and the .357 will go right through.

On the other hand with a machete I get +1 attack.

Yeah anything more than a .22 would be a no no for attic critter removal.
And yeah..hope it's not a possum...them buggers are mean.

Whatever it is, its gone so I get to check the roof tomorrow, yay...

Name: Earl Wallace
Age: 31
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Fluvian Guardsmen Sergeant
Appearance: Tall, black man. Roughly 6', bald, brown eyes. Virtually unaffected by the mutations so far.
Background: Coming from a hive-city, Earl grew up in one of the local gangs. He learned all the tricks of the trade in being a hitman and a drug dealer. After most of his gang were gunned down in a rivalry incident, he signed into the Imperial Guard so he wouldn't die. He's been in the Guard since he was nineteen years old, and was promoted to the rank of Sergeant four years ago after showing fanatical ruthlessness in the name of the Emperor, running through incoming fire to toss several grenades into a bunker with several heavy bolters that had pinned down his comrades. Very popular with his soldiers, partly because he provides them with Grinweed, an outlawed narcotic.
Equipment: All black Imperial Guard Uniform, a hot-shot laspistol, and a one-handed power-flail.
Hobbies: Cards, Lho-Sticks, and Grinweed.

Sorry to say this Karon, but a black guy wearing black armor is almost as funny as when my black friend decided to play black templar.

There's nothing wrong with it, it just reminds me of when another black friend discovered that his clan's mascot was a black templar. My brother and I pointed it out to him and he just told us to shut up.



Anywho it looks like a lot of people are almost ready, to those who aren't take your time. This is going to be your character for the rest of the game so make him/her how you want to(as long as its within the rules of course). If you take a follower or something similar just remember that they won't improve your chances of living, if you do decide to have a small group make a list of names for the characters and send them to me in a PM so when I write an event I can just pull it from the PM and not dig through umteen pages to find a list. I would also like to stress the importance of being one of the first to sign up for an RP, I signed up first and I was able to nab the GM position after all.

As you've seen we have a couple of people with mounts/vehicles they are allowed, but no flying vehicles please. Again they do nothing to improve your chances of survival.

In this RP there is only one way to improve your chances of survival and that is to avoid confrontations with other players IRL and players on the opposite side IC. I will roll for your characters and note that I tend to roll low which is a bugger for armor saves.

I hope that you will have fun and enjoy this RP and my mission is to make it enjoyable for the most people. Create your characters, watch out for the first event which should be Sunday. This event will kick start the entire thing so I am going to be vague with it to allow you some room to meet up with friendly players, define your character, and to get ready for the next event which will set goals for your sides.

-----your friendly neighborhood GM,
Halonachos.

halonachos wrote:Sorry to say this Karon, but a black guy wearing black armor is almost as funny as when my black friend decided to play black templar.

I'm basing this character off of a close friend of mine. I've brought this point up to him many times.

He's a ninja IRL

are we going to start 'in theatre' or can I RP some big cinematic scene where my guys make planetfall?

karon wrote:He's a ninja IRL

BAD Karon! VERY BAD Karon

How did you decode my message?!

even though I wear glasses IRL my short range vision is perfect, and I have an eye for details

FM Ninja 048 wrote:are we going to start 'in theatre' or can I RP some big cinematic scene where my guys make planetfall?

You can do planet fall as in you're still in the ship, I would prefer that some of you wait so I can RP the briefing before the Nucian IG and friends meet up with the Fluvian IG and friends.

Chaos players are already on the planet and may only interact with chaos players for now. Nucian affiliated players are stuck with the other Nucian players for now, and of course the Fluvian players are stuck with the other Fluvian associated players for now.

Once I RP the briefing then IG players can mingle and Chaos is still stuck with Chaos because nobody likes them. *glares at Fitzz and Marta.

Also note that I added players to the first page. Waiting for fitzz, shas, and the Bringer(hopefully).

YEY, I have a cool idea for what's going to happen

don't worry, i'll wait until the colored text starts flying

also am I stuck with fluvians just now as i'm attached to them?

Alright ninja you have a choice, your regiment can be attached to the Fluvians(in which case you have a mutation) or to the Nucians(no mutations). It doesn't look like you specified before when I posted your character in the first post.

Sorry Ninja I didn't copy all of your character info to save space and missed out on your affiliation, you said that you're with the Nucians so you're stuck on a ship for now.

Name: Rev'ex Craxx
Age: ????
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Skull Screamers Aspiring Champion.
Appearance: Tall,bald and pale of skin,Rev'ex is clad in the armour of the Skull Screamers,his eyes glowing a malevolent red,his mouth a smiling cavern of razor sharp fangs.
Rev'ex is armed with clawed powerfist and an ornate Bolt Pistol,but his prefered weapon is a barbed whip which hangs at his side.
Background: Rev'ex is a devote follower of Slaanesh,delighting in the canopy of agonized screams of those he ensnares,over the centuries he has risen to command of a squad of like minded warriors,who's primary objectives are to bestow blissful agony onto their foe.
Hobbies: The ritualistic torture of others.

I've got a lot of ideas to flesh Rev'ex out...but at least this is an official entry.

The war room was spotless, out of all the buildings they had cleaned there were only two they kept clean normally and one they decided to clean recently. Of course they kept the latrines and infirmary clean but with the new guests Gregor decided that the war room should look good. The Nucian commanders entered and were almost shocked at the juxtaposition of the spotless room and the dirty commander who was supposed to be in charge. The smell of ammonia still wafted in the air and flowed out to assault the Nucians' nostrils. A large metal table dominated the middle of the room and reflected the light from the ceiling, several seats surrounded the table.

"Gentlemen," Gregor stood and motioned towards the seats, "take a seat, the briefings will be passed out momentarily."

The Nucian commanders all took a seat and looked at each other, still wondering about why the room was so clean compared to everything else they had seen. A guardsman wearing a cap with a bronze cog and a similar olive green uniform came out carrying several stacks of paper. As he passed them out the Nucians could see a bandage on his hand with dried blood. Unknown to them the adjutant had grown two thumbs on his hand and had them removed under four hours ago.

"As you can see, the map with the battlelines is on the top of the stack." Gregor said flatly while pacing side to side, "We have successfully contained their forces despite their two attempts to break from the Tall Towers bastion. They fell well short of our front lines and..."

"I'm sorry general, but with your rebreather its hard to understand you..." one of the younger Nucians interrupted, "perhaps if you took it off we could hear you."

Gregor stopped and stared at the young officer,
"First I would like to say that it is rude to interrupt, what are you, 20 something? Secondly I would like to add that I have recently suffered a respiratory illness and do not wish to repeat it."

"45..." the younger officer responded unphased by Gregor's verbal attack, "I'm actually 45, from the reports that puts me at an older age than you."

Gregor raised his finger to make a point when the older of them interrupted.

"Enough, we'll respect the fact that you don't want to get sick again." the old man said, "Do not verbally berate my seconds and continue with the briefing."

Gregor coughed into the rebreather to clear his throat and returned to his pacing.

"Like I said, we stopped two of their breakout attempts with minimum casualties to our own men. On the map of the battle lines you can see that we marked the maximum range of the weapons on the fortress, our base of operations is 20 miles away from that line. Our front line is within a mile of the maximum range and is where the bulk of our men our located. The main goals we were given were to destroy the enemy without destroying the bastion itself. We cannot assualt it on ground, in the air, or under the ground. They have anti-aircraft weapons mounted near the top of the walls, the artillery will destroy anything we send at it, and there's a promethium depot installed underneath the bastion itself. If we fly they get shot down, if we march we get blown up, and if we dig the whole thing goes to hell. We need to neutralize their AA and then their main guns. After that we must open their gates and then march right in to retake the fortress."

"A basic plan." the elder Nucian said after a moment of silence, "How do you plan to take out their AA and then their guns and so on?"

"That's where your men come in." Gregor paused and looked down at the table to find the paper with the details of his plan on it, "I hear that you had some infiltration specialists and pilots with you, we have no such luxury..." he elongated the 'y' on his final word as he continued to look at the papers, "here it is."

"The previous commander wasted our infiltrators on an assassination mission of the enemy commander, a lesser Chaos sorceror by the name of Kelthad." Gregor continued, his mind refreshed by the quick glance at the report, "Killing him would do nothing except release a greater demon or some act of the false gods upon us. Fortunately they failed, unfortunately their lives were wasted. I propose a quick sabotage mission to knock out their main weapons, once that is done we reinforce those infiltrators with men inserted with valkryies. Those men will quickly move to the three gatehouses to open the gates with charges so they can't close them. After that we will move our forces in to encircle them and eliminate the taint of chaos without mercy." with that Gregor finished and looked at the three Nucians in front of him. They looked at each others and at the reports in front of them.

"We'll see what we can do." the Nucian hadn't said anything opened.

"Yes, you're asking quite a lot from our men." the youngest agreed with the other.

"I'm only asking them to do the Emperor's duty." Gregor finished, Commissar Brent stepped into the room as an added emphasis. "I also ask your names for future reference."

"I am Madiv Lis," the oldest said motioning to himself with his hand, "our quiet friend is Fernando Gerts, and the young one is Jost Unger."

"I will take note of that, and..." Gregor was again interrupted by one of the Nucians.

"Your hospitality is lacking, you're filthy, and this place smells of bleach." Madiv said as he folded up his report and began to stand and leave.

"I'm sorry Commander Lis, but we've been getting limited supplies. The caffeine you have on your ships is the first caffeine we've had in months, I'm sorry if we were unable to entertain you." Gregor replied snydly as he watched the Nucians frown and leave the war room.

"Great first impressions sir." Brent said to Gregor after the Nucians had left the room.

"They're so damn cocky." Gregor said removing his rebreather, " And this damn thing is choking me."

"Well they probably have experience on you, they're older than you after all." Brent replied as he made sure no one was watching them. "Their commissars don't seem to be complete hard asses though so we may have lucked out there."

"What are they doing now?" Gregor said while leaning over the table and collecting his papers, "the Nucian troopers I mean."

"Unloading their kit, eating, setting up their accomodations, the basics of setting up and getting acquainted with their new theatre of war." Brent stated calmly.
................................................................

"That commander's incredibly arrogant." Jost confided to Madiv and Fernando, "He had the nerve to tell us what to do with our own men."

"Calm down Jost," Madiv replied, "his nerves may be frayed. No supplies for awhile and a delay in reinforcements will make even the most seasoned commanders feel useless and ignored. A feeling that manifests itself as anger, add to that our appearance and he may be more afraid of us than them."

The Fluvians watched as the troopships continued to spill forth fresh faced toops in new uniforms. Some of the Fluvians began to take bets on the life expectancy of the new guys and some wondered how long it would take their commanders to try something foolish enough to get them killed. Others wondered if Gregor was going to be replaced and executed by the new commissars. Most of the Fluvians tended to not want to interact with the Nucians out of fear that their mutations might be discovered, others were jealous of the Nucian's lack of mutation, some just didn't care enough.

The Nucians were loud and excited to get into combat, they partied as they set up their tents and ate. Some of the fresh food made its way to the Fluvian cafeteria where they were delighted to have something processed. The inhabitants of Netat had been nice enough to put some of their annual food tithes towards the Fluvian war efforts but the fresh food had gotten old for the Fluvians. The most important cargo on the troopships wasn't the troops themselves, but the caffeine they brought with them, at least that's what the Fluvians thought.

Alright, this is the first event. If you want to RP being on the ship or before the event feel free to do so, but now the Fluvian and Nucian IG can now interact with each other.

(Can we get some kind of an event for chaos?)

*jumps in*

Can i join?

If so, can i be a commisar, who's hobby is friendly fire?

*glares at Nikev*

OOC: Just added some personality information for my character and names for my crew.

Also, can we get some quick information on the disposition of forces, as well as their main uniform colours etc?

IC:
The crew of the Final Rest leaned against the tank watching as the hauler ships unloaded men and supplies, running a casual but professional eye over the small amount of armour that had so far been unloaded (OOC: I don't know how many tanks they have).

"What are they?" Erlag called from where he was standing at the rear of the tank. The rest of the crew turned to consider the curious vehicles being unloaded from a drop ship parked slightly apart from the others.

Small 6 wheeled vehicles with an open, tubular structure were being driven from the hold. Each had a small heavy weapon turret on the rear.

"I'm not sure" Conwynn rumbled "But they look like they would die easily under our gun", patting the distinctive long barrel which stretched over his head.

"They would, if it came to that" Grunthin replied "I just pray to the Emperor that it won't."

I'll happily have a hobby!

An ancient, and timeless daemon, who knows every tale ever known, his hobby shalll be....

Well, he takes an interest in the politics of the Chaos Warcoven, delighting in manipulating the members views, planting ideas, and twisting peoples thoughts to his own.

You could also say writing the stories of beings is a hobby, as he certainly takes great interest in it.

He also can act as an advisor rather well.

he could play chess?


and I think a map is in order?

Ooh, I do like the idea of a giant bird daemon sitting hunched over a tiny chess board, using intricate and unfathomable tactics to win Chess.

"I do believe, it's checkmate."

"But it's only the 2nd turn!"

more like

"I belive it's checkmate"

"but i've not taken the peices out the box yet"

There will be an event for chaos, I have work till 5pm today so it should be up at around 5:30pm my time.

@sillyboy

Write a character sheet up, and no friendly fire is not a hobby. Its never a hobby.

halonachos wrote:
@sillyboy

Write a character sheet up, and no friendly fire is not a hobby. Its never a hobby.

Ok, time to fill the character sheet in then.

Name: Commissar Ezreal Astet

Age: 43

Sex: Male

Affiliation: Commisar in the fluvian regiment.

Appearance: Black short trimmed hair, Standard commissar clothing.

Mutation: small bone spikes are beginning to grow out of his back.

Background: He was the son of a noble family on the planet Ara, but an ork Waagh! appeared out of the warp. In the ensuing 4 years of war, Ezreal lost both his parents.
The commanding gneral of the planets defences, felt pity for the lone boy. So he shipped him of to the Schola Progenium. There he gladly embraced the demanding and unremmiting regime
of prayer, study and physical excercises. These years of punishing trainig had honed his mind and body with steel resolve. After this he was accepted in to the ranks of the stormtroopers.


His wits were tested in the heat of battle. Not once did he step back and accepted defeat. The love for the Emperor fueling his resolve. Eventualy his talents were noticed and he was
inducted in the sacred rank of commisar. He was assigned to the 25th Realian regiment. For many years he lead his troops trough gruesome campains. His bravery at Baldurs gate was awarded with
the gift of a powersword. Life went well for Ezreal until one day he led his man in to an ambush. They were massacred, only he and a handfull of survivors made it out.
This devasting blow had sevearly weakened the offensive a gainst the rebels. Lord Commisar Rain, sent him to serve with the Fluvians on their world.

He spent a restless year on the Fluvian homeworld, training the ignorant peasants of the agro-world. In something, he hoped would have some resemblance with a real guardsmen.
Ezreal was excited when the reports of a small invasion made it to his desk. Finaly he could prove himself, and get out of this forced excile.

Ezreal marched together with the Fluvian regimet to the castle. But he could not take it.
His anger spiked, why did the Emperor did this to his faithfull servant? And to make everything even worse mutations began to spread.
At first Ezreal excecuted every tainted man he layed his eyes on. Until a month ago, boney spikes pierced his skin.

Hobbies: Dreaming of a better world, drinking, pondering about the future.

"Look sharp" called Lorich from where he was lounging next to one of the sponson guns, inclining his head slightly to indicate the approaching Nucians. The crew straightened up, and Conwynn made sure his goggles were pulled down, covering his permanently bleeding eyes, many of the others shifting slightly to better hide the worse of their sores or mutations.

The Nucians pulled up a few metres away, their leader motioning to the Final Rest and speaking "This your armour?"

"It is" nodded Grunthin "The Final Rest - I'm Grunthin and I command her. This is my crew."

The Nucian Pointed at himself and another bearing the same rank pins "I am Armond, commander of the Emperor's Displeasure, and this is Amion, commander of the Emperor's Destruction. Have you seen much action here?"

Grunthin paused to consider. "Some. The enemy mostly sits in the Tower these days. There are a few raids, but nothing too big... and not always something that needs a tank hunter like Final Rest. There were a couple of big break out attempts that got ugly, and of course the initial battles."

"Enemy tankers any good?" one of the Nucians spoke up.

"Some of 'em" replied Grunthin, pointing to a few scrapes and pock marks on the hull of the Final Rest. "The Chaos Marines especially."

"There are chaos marine tanks?!" the Nucian exclaimed.

Conwynn's deep laugh sounded out "A few less than there used to be."

"Come on people, We don't want to miss the party, Get those buggies lashed down, in your seats in 5 minutes" Elanor yelled, watching as her squad pushed the last buggie into it's spot on the deck.

They laseh the vehicle to the deck with chains before taking up positions on the drop seats lining the sides of the ship, Harnesses were pulled down from the walls, sealing each meber of the squad and there support crew into their seats.

The dropship rumbled to life, gliding out of the hanger bay and along past the bulk landers, al making there way down to the surface. It plunged into the atmosphere on a trail of fire, it's frame shuddering as it started to heat up.

Inside the dropship everybody was talking and joking, until one of the support crew threw up all over his harness.

"HEY, look everybody, a drop virgin, how you feeling, feels good doesn't it" someone shouted, and everybody laughed

the dropship came floating down to the ground on a cloud of dust and smoke, it's ramp lowered and the frist of the stormtroopers crshed down the ramp, rolling the buggies out into the dirt of the landing field, a couple of chimeras towing fuel trailers came out last, they arrange themselves in formation, before Ellanor apperaed in front of them

"IN FORMATION, NOW!" she barked, and the squad moved into two rows in front of her, "Jump, Drop and Jiggle, you know the drill"

the troopers dropped to the ground and jumped back up again, listening for any rattles which were quickly silenced.

Nikev looked out among the bay of the ship as the Nucian's moved to their assigned drop pods. "Sir," called his adjutant from behind him, "Its time to load onto the drop pod." "Thank you, I'll be down in a minute." Nikev turned back to the view and watched as the soldiers boarded one last time before he turned and walked down to his transport. "All ready back here." He reported to the pilot who affirmed and began to lift off.

As the drop ships landed on the planet, Nikev departed with the adjutant. "First off, lets start with our troops in the barracks." As the adjutant led him to the barracks with the instructions he was given, activity was high with soldiers and workers setting up base camp. The most activity was from the barracks, from the outside the woots and hollers of soldiers ready to get back into a fight could be hear from very far away. As Nikev entered the barrack, Private Salmoq strolled by with a hefty drink in his hand, only to be taken smoothly by the commissar.

"NIKEV!" he shouted in surprise, his voice and the name of a commissar being mentioned caused everyone to stop and stare toward the interruption. "I don't know why you stopped," NIkev began, "I think I'll take this and say I never saw this tom-follery." He finished with a sly smile and a quick swig of the drink. The barracks immediately burst back into the exciting activity that had occupied it earlier.

"I think it'd be best to learn about our Fluvian allies Commissars." Nikev suggested to his adjutant.

Ezreal stood on top of the hills. Looking at the firey swipes coming down from the skys. It was a spectacular view.
One he had missed for far too long. The Emperor truly was great, as his heart filled with pride. Memories of past victories
put a smile on Ezreals face. After looking for over an hour, he turned around. Looking at the basecamp.
Reality took his brain over. He could never leave this place, not after the taint had even affected him. He didn't want this.
The right thing to do would be to reprtit to the Nucians and wait for the Emperors mercy.

But he couldn't, the urge to stay alive was to great. Ezreal hoped the Emperor would forgive him as he strawled of the hill.
He walked trough the muddy paths of the basecamp. "Would it be to much to ask for some nice dry paths?" he asked himself.
"Commissar, you are needed in the medical area." Ezreal lokked at he guardsmen Warts filling his face.
He had seen worse. He nodded and followed the lowly soldier. The fear in the mans face filled Ezreals heart. Somethings
were still normal.

Arrived at the correct location, the medic walked towards him. "Follow me, commisar" he said.
In the back of the chamber he opened a curtain. A foul beast was chained to the table. "What happened?"
"I have no idea" the madic said. Ezreal studied the foul thing that once was human, was this wath would happen to
all of them. He prayed not.

" If you see others excecute and bury them, If the reinforcments see this, we're going to be in big trouble.
He pulled out his bolt pistol. "Purge the unclean" he whispered as he pulled the trigger.
Ezreal closed the curtain. "Dispose of him quick." the medic signed two men to take care of it.
"Can i help you commisar?" The medic asked. Ezreal nodded and pulled his upperclothes of.

Tiny bone spikes riddled acros his back. "Pull them out." Ezreal commanded.
The pain was unbearable.

(thanks halo looking frwrd to it)

IC:....

Rev'ex descended a broken and twisted flight of stairs into his subterranean chambers, in his head a chorus of glorious screams...the very walls of the structure a twisting canopy of color and sound..faces leered from the stone seeming to writhe in agony as he passed.

" Glorious" Rev'ex sighed with delight as he absorbed the sensations around him.

Entering the lower chambers,Rev'ex smiled upon seeing his newest acquisition,a young man..a follower of the despised False Emperor was bound to an upright rack...his flesh practically unmarried...smooth and vibrant,the fear in the mans eyes...intoxicating.

The chamber Rev'ex stood in was designated as an interrogation area...Rev'ex frowned slightly...though his pleasures had been great in this room...Had he ever actually integrated anyone?...Rev'ex grinned wider..dismissing such useless thoughts...through the flesh...the blood...the cries for mercy..Rev'ex had gained immeasurable knowledge....and delight.

Rev'ex approached the bound man,releshing the way he trembled and lightly slid the tip of one clawed finger slowly across the terrified mans chest opening a swallow wound.

The man screamed and Rev'ex closed his eyes in ecstasy,savoring the torrent of profanity the man begin to yell.

Rev'exs grin widened and he leaned to face the man,flaying his cheek open with a taloned carres " We shall grow together brother..." Rev'ex hissed.

The man howled as Rev'ex claws removed one of his bulging eyes in a quick delicate gesture.

Rev'ex snaked his tongue over the blood slick tips of his claws and shuddered in anticipation at the joys to come.

A fanged smile split his features as his hand fell to his whip,releasing it from his belt and uncoiling it with slow grace.

" Yes my Brother..." Rev'ex hissed again " Your pleasures shall be mine."

Rev'ex deftly cracked the barbed whip,shredding the mans side to the bone,his joy rising at the sight of the beautiful crimson pouring from the writhing mans wounds.

Rev'ex lapped at the blood on the whip slowly,his eyes closing again as he took in the wondrous sensations...this plaything was strong....his joys would last for hours...maybe days.

Rev'ex opened his eyes again and smiled....the man...staring into those red eyes screamed the scream of the damned.

(very nice FITZZ) (ic) Across the plains of the world comes the sound of a chorus of wails, all in perfect tune and harmony, yet dischordant in thier utter abandonous shreaking. The sound grows louder to the ears of the guardsmen, those who are veterans of the planet, the Fluvians, shake in fear as the demented wailing approaches, but the Nucians the newcomers to the siege laugh at the Fluvians, "Weaklings", "The siege has dulled their bravery"...

Interspersed inside the wailing harmonics is the sound of decadent yells of pure pleasure, joy and elation at thier most refined form, the Nucians look to this source of amazing joy juxtaposed with the horror of the wails.

What they see amazes them, a trio of bikers are carrering across the planes, their speed so great that the grass ignites beneah them as they pass and is then put out by the air vacuum that follows in thier wake. The wailing comes from the bike of the leader, a streamlined form hunched over his bike, pure joy enhanching the Slaanesh blessed features of his form. Behind him a banner, perfect in shape where instead it should be tattered from the whipping motion its material makes, as the bikers tear across the planes. On its surface is a symbol that strikes nameless terror into the hearts of the Nucians, they drop to the ground, praying to the Emporer to save them from the horror in thier minds, and slowly, they realize that thier prayers are being answered, but not by the Emporer. The whispers of deamonettes enter their minds, image of sinuous forms, unnamable save for the joy in their prescence and the great sadness in their passing.

The Fluvians seeing the danger, come out of the barracks in which they wee hiding and drag their erstwhile allies inside, to be saved from the entrancing horror and beauty of the Herald of Slaanesh.

Tyranic Marta and his two friends are heedless of the disruption they cause as they carrer in grat circles around the Chaos fortress. Finally they turn for the tower, making short work of the distance between them and their current home.

Only long after the terrifing biker has passed do the Fluvians and their allies dare step outside again.

Gra'ksirra sighed heavily, his whole body shuddering from the effort. Carefully, The huge Daemon reached up to his beak, and daintily removed the reading glasses. With a look of extreme resignation, he opened a small pouch tied to a cord on his tabbard, and dropped them inside. Looking back around, his head, balanced on the long neck turned to look at the nearest sorceror. The marine was tall, and cloaked in a flowing purple robe, which covering most of the mans' impressive armour. The Psyker stank of oils and incense.

Gra'ksirra, then turned to look at the other summoner. Whereas the first was bedecked in fine silks, and lustrous pearls, the second Sorcerers armour was simplistic, a plain grey robe covering practically standard power armour. Either this marine had recently seen the truth in the lies, or he did not believe in imagery.

His tale would be interesting to follow.

In a voice of dried parchment, and ancient years, the Lord of Change addressed his summoners with the air of one who was not at their beck or call, nor in the way of one who assumed power over people.

"So... for what reason have I been summoned to the mortal plain? And which date and time are we at, if you please?"

The sorcerer of slaanesh, a believer in lavish and sumptuous beauty responded first.

"Daemon, you have been summoned here today to give us your wisdom. You are bound to us, and you shall do as commanded!"

With a flourish the sorcerer swung his staff to the fore, as if holding a cross in front of a vampire, keeping the Daemon at bay. Gra'ksirra's feathers ruffled slightly. The power in the magic used was significant, but the marine himself seemed inexperienced in the ways of summoning. He was relying on the power in his staff to keep him at bay. The lord of change idly brought his hand up to his ribs, and scratched at the thick linen bandaging bound to his chest.

"Tell me, what do you need council upon?"

The second Sorcerer spoke.

"We are besieged my lord, and time itself if against us. Reinforcements have arrived, and soon, our defences may fall."

The great beak nodded, and Gra'ksirra waved his hand for the Traitor to continue.

"And you want the aid of me to help you escape the trouble you find yourselves in?"

"Yes."

An odd cawing laugh echoed out through the summoning chamber. The traces of a smile crossed the bird Daemons face.

"Very well, I shall lend my recommendations to you."

(edit my char to call biking at extreme speeds his hobby)

BIC:...

Rev'ex smiled and drew the whip back once again,savoring the moment before the lash bit deeply into the shrieking mans flesh once more.
Rev'ex frame quiverd in a spasm of unbridled ecstasy as the follower of the Corpse God pleaded for mercy.

" Stop ?" Rev'ex smilled tilting his head and licking the blood from his whip " Little Brother...I've only begun..." he sighed again fully enjoying the anticipation of the next carraress of his whip upon the mans flesh.

The Chamber door banged open and an figure clad in Ornate Purple Armour stepped inside.

" My apologizes for disturbing you my Commander" The Marine spoke "But your presence is urgently requested."

Rev'ex glared at his subordinate for a moment then sighed. " Very well..."

Rev'ex walked slowly towards the bleeding Guardsman,dabbing the blood from his pouring wounds and licking the tips of his taloned fingers.

" I must leave you for a time my Brother" Rev'ex smiled slicing the mans ear off as he spoke with a delicate flick of one razor sharp finger " But be joyous in the knowledge of my impending return."

The Guardsman screams were cut off as Rev'ex forced a glowing spiked orb into the mans mouth,shattering his teeth and splitting his tongue in half.

" Now..what is it that is so urgent ?" Rev'ex said as he turned to follow the other Marine out of the chamber,sorely longing to return to the thrashing form behind him.

After docking his bike in its burst chamber Tyranic Marta walks through the corridors of the great tower, listening to the screams of the guardsman in the deep chambers, his enhanced hearing picking up the delecate strains of fear and still the resistance of those with faith in a false god. Tyranic pauses for a moment appreciating the skill of the torturer as the guardsman begins to plead with impassioned crys for mercy.

When the pleading is interspersed with anouther scream which is then cut off, Tyranic continues on his way, as he passes the door to the deep chambers he sees Re'vex ascending the stairs with a subordinate.

"Greetings Re'vex I laud your appreciation of the finer arts of greeting our guests in this fortress, that man will remember your hospitality for a long time. May i ask where you go? Interupting your fun in this manner?"

BIC:...

" Ahhh Tyranic" Rev'ex nodded at his comrade " Returned from the Hunt I see...I hope you found it as satisfying as my recent pursuits have been for me." Rev'ex slowly licked a trace of blood from this gauntlet.
" Indeed" Tyranic replied " Most satisfying"

" Good" Rev'ex said with a small hiss " Please...accompany me...it would seem my presence is required by our Exalted Sorceress for purposes as of yet unknown to me...But certainly your presence would be welcomed as well.

Tyranic nodded as the two followed the Marine through the fortress hallways towards the Sorcerers chambers.

Earl walked out of his quarters, lighting a Lho-stick.

"Sarge!" a voice came from behind him

Earl turned around, facing a younger solder named Johnny. He had been unlucky when it came to mutations, he had grown a second ear on his cheek, and had fanged teeth. Grinweed was his only escape from his reality.

"You got the stuff on you?" he asked

"Not for you, Johnny." Earl said firmly.

"Come on, man, just once today. Please." Johnny pleaded

"Step off, John. You aren't getting any, ever again. Not after you stole from me." Earl said, sliding his hand down to his pistol.

"No man! Don't do this to me!" Johnny said, taking out a knife. "Please, don't make me. Just give me it" he pleaded

"Emperor Protects" Earl said

"No!" Johnny screamed as he lunged.

Earl caught him at the wrist, and sent a powerful elbow to his chin, knocking him to the floor.

"God damn Chaos. It corrupted your whole mind." Earl said in frustration

Johnny just cried on the ground.

"I'm sorry, Johnny. Find salvation in death" Earl said.

(creepy srsly creepy) (ic) Tyranic falls in step beside Re'vex, and speaks to him in a low bass, "the prisoner must be nearly spent, from the sounds of the screams you were iliciting, do you wish me and my brothers to... aquire.. you a new subject?" Tyranic grins slightly, "Or is it your skill now that you can create such beautiful music and still have the subject in a fit state for a preformance?"

Final Rest growled as the engine revved to life, a deep throaty roar which reverberated throughout the cabin. Grunthin stood in the cupola, looking back at the line of Nucian tanks. He gave the hand signal for the rest of the column to start up.

The air shook as engines fired up and turbines span up to speed. Grunthin could hear that all the tanks had started - his experienced ears could even distinguish one tank with a slight misfire, however, he waited for the signal to come in that everyone was ready before ordering Erlag to move forwards.

Babysitting the Nucians was not his idea of a great use of his tank and crew but he had still volunteered for the duty because he knew that if he helped positioned the new armour it would be done properly.

He tuned his headset in to the Nucian armour frequency and monitored their chatter for a while, wincing at their lack of radio discipline. He would mention it to their commander when they arrived - no sense broadcasting and letting the Chaos forces know where he was and what he was doing, or in ruffling the Nucian feathers by publicly rebuking them.

He triggered his intercom "Erlag, take us over to the Western section."

"Western section, aye".

BIC:...

Rev'ex laughed lightly at Tyranics inquiry " Oh my friend...new subjects are always a welcome addition." Rev'ex smiled " Though the art of saviouring the single subject...the prolonged ...joys of the voice made to sing over days...weeks..."Rev'ex shuddered with delight " That...is bliss...the...ecstacy of extending a single mans song...preserving the canopy of music that issue from his very deepest chambers...ahhh...true joy."
Tyranic laughed " And beautiful music you do make Rev'ex...I shall endeavour to keep you richly supplied with the instruments you require."
Rev'ex smile widened as he became lost in dreams of flesh and the whip.

(ic) Let us find out what the sorceror wishes of us, then we may continue with this idea.. the soft bass of his chuckle reverberates creepily around the corridors

Kelthad had watched the troopships landing from the command center of the Tall Towers. It sat high above the walls to afford the Bastion Commander sight of the battleground at all times. The Basion Commander still had the view of the surrounding terrain, but his head was mounted upon a stake that sat in front of the commander's chair.

Kelthad had seen to it that the previous commander's mind would be permanantly hardwired into the bastion's defense network along with the daemonic spirits he introduced to the systems. Kelthad stood, staff at his side, and watched as the troopships began to lift off.

"Another regiment most likely..." Kelthad mused behind his grotesque mask shaped into the visage of a bird, "not much, but they are earlier than I expected."

The screams of the damned souls of the bastion surrounded Kelthad, each one crying for release to their precious corpse god. Kelthad enjoyed the shower of screams daily and seemed to be reuvenated by them. His plans were going according to plan despite the slight hiccup with the earlier reinforcement of the loyalist forces, but it would just mean he would have to work faster.

Kelthad brought up purple avatars up upon the glass in front of him and watched as they carried out the previous two assaults for his personal viewing. After watching the paths the assaults took Kelthad charted them on a map and planned the third assault, he would need to make sure that it lined up just right...

...............................

In the basement more sorcerors were being trained to replace those sacrificed to summon the greater daemon. It had strained Kelthad's resources greatly, but it would most likely pay off in the long run seeing as though information was worth more than 1,000 heretics under his command. Kelthad began to muse if he had gone through 1,000 heretics and grinned as he tallied it to 12,000. But enough distraction he would use his underlings to deal with the weekly chores of dealing with the spirits that now inhabited the bastion. They would help prevent an invasion whether or not they wanted to, they would be under his complete control when the time.

At the moment his lessers would be conversing with the demon, unaware of his overall plan. He would plan his attacks and then meet the demon for himself, hopefully able to hide his true intentions behind the walls of his mind and behind the psychic barrier in his mask. It wouldn't be easy to trick an old and wise demon but he would have to try or try to try. It was a mad idea even for his standards and an incredible gamble. If he passed he would be able to carry out his plans unmolested, if he failed he would have to banish the the damned thing and try another method. He had five plans altogether now, the one involving the demon was the easiest and least time consuming. He was working on his alternate with the planned attacks just in case he couldn't get the greater demon to go along with his idea.

"Almost a year and none of your plans have reached fruition." a voice mocked Kelthad.

"Ah, Trintus..." Kelthad continued to lay out the plan of his next attack, "I remember banishing you to the warp. What brings you here?"

"Your failure." Trintus continued to mock the sorceror.

"Last time I checked I'm up by two banishings, don't make me make it three." Kelthad warned.

OOC:...

At this point I must admit to being a bit uncertain as to my next RP
My basic concept is that Tyranis and Rev'ex will be asked/commanded to take their forces to halt the Imperial advances...perhaps with some special objectives tossed in by Gra'ksirra.

(sounds good, im game)

@Karon, you either mean second set of ears, or third ear, right?

---
BIC:

Ellanor steped into the tent hanging form the wings of the dropship, they had decided to pitch there bacuase it was one of the only flat areas of land left, and was relativly close to the officers tents compared to the rest of the Nucians, The squad was set up in a rough circle in the dark. they're rebreathers on, good, the Fluvians were wearing theirs so they obviously knew something recon doesn't. She pulled the holoprojector out of the gauntlet of her armour and tossed it on the floor, it lit up in a flickering view of the bastion and the surrounding area.

"Right, listen up, command say's we're going in soon, so use this map, it's the area before they started the shelling, most of the interior plans will still be relevent but disregard the exterior, I've sent one of the support crews, with the long range picter up to the hill where they keep the artillery, they should be back with fresh shots within the hour, once we know what to do we might be needed imediatly, so. be. ready.

She pulled her helmet back on the rebreather locking perfectly into the front and completing the seal before she stepped back outside, the Visor automaticly compensated for the harsh light and she headed over into the Fluvian lines to see what their new allies were like. She was tired of the cables of her Lasgun getting in the way so she clamped it to the side of her powerpack, and carried on her way, waving in amongst the maze of tents and trying not to draw atention to herself.

FM Ninja 048 wrote:@Karon, you either mean second set of ears, or third ear, right?

---
BIC:

Ellanor steped into the tent hanging form the wings of the dropship, they had decided to pitch there bacuase it was one of the only flat areas of land left, and was relativly close to the officers tents compared to the rest of the Nucians, The squad was set up in a rough circle in the dark. they're rebreathers on, good, the Fluvians were wearing theirs so they obviously knew something recon doesn't. She pulled the holoprojector out of the gauntlet of her armour and tossed it on the floor, it lit up in a flickering view of the bastion and the surrounding area.

"Right, listen up, command say's we're going in soon, so use this map, it's the area before they started the shelling, most of the interior plans will still be relevent but disregard the exterior, I've sent one of the support crews, with the long range picter up to the hill where they keep the artillery, they should be back with fresh shots within the hour, once we know what to do we might be needed imediatly, so. be. ready.

She pulled her helmet back on the rebreather locking perfectly into the front and completing the seal before she stepped back outside, the Visor automaticly compensated for the harsh light and she headed over into the Fluvian lines to see what their new allies were like. She was tired of the cables of her Lasgun getting in the way so she clamped it to the side of her powerpack, and carried on her way, waving in amongst the maze of tents and trying not to draw atention to herself.

Third ear, lol. Sorry.

BIC:...

Tyranic and Rev'ex entered an immense chamber,in it's center an Alter surrounded by towering figures pulsed and thrummed with discordant harmony.
Rev'ex swayed along with the noise,his eyes taking on a primal fire.
A sorcerer in flowing purple robes approached the pair.

" The forces of the Corpse God have been reinforced" The Sorcerer spoke in a voice both male and female " Our lord requires that both of you ready your detachments...your..skills are needed"

Rev'ex smiled " ...And exactly how are our ...skills...equired?" he hissed.

The Sorcerer raised a twisted and clawed hand " All shall be made known to you shortly." the Sorcere said " In the meantime...ready your forces...then return to these chambers."

" As you wish" Tyranic and Rev'ex echoed in unison.

Nikev and the adjutant had only walked a few feet when Nikev's personal Data-pad pipped. Pulling it out, he did an immediate about face and began quickly moving toward the freshly incoming drop pods. When the drop pods fully dropped, he pushed a button on his data-pad and stopped his quickened pace to a complete stand-still. Nikev put his fingers in his mouth in a pincer like form and blew, creating a loud whistle.

Waiting with the adjutant nikev turned to him, "I want you to go and make sure the men in the barracks are all doing right. If their gear isn't fully deployed tell'em they won't find any of the alcohol around hear unless they're deployed by the time I get back to inspect." "Yes sir." replied the adjutant who turned and left the Commissar.

As Nikev waited, a thumping could be heard louder and louder from the distance. Looking toward the sound Nikev saw his mount Manodire racing to greet its rider once more. With a smile on his face, Nikev opened his arms to welcome his mount as Manodire approached closer. As he ran, Manodire's sleek fur shone in the sunlight of the day. Its black color rippling as the fur moved. "Manodire!" Nikev exclaimed as the massive wolf lept to land at his rider's feet. Nikev play tackled him and began a slight wrestle. "Glad to have you back here buddy." Getting back to his feet, Nikev pulled out his data-pad, "Now to find a fellow Commissar." He scrolled down the names on his data-pad, "Hmmm....lets see, Commissar Ezreal Astet. Off we go my companion." Nikev said as he mounted Manodire and the Wolf Erupted into speed to find this Commissar Ezreal Astet.

Tyranic begins an old hymn in a language dead to the galaxy, his voice carries a prayer to Slaanesh, exhorting him for the powers of his gifts, after the first verse he motions for the others to join him, this is the right of the herald of Slaanesh, to envoke the hymn of Decadent chaos.

As the hymn reaches its peak the room is bathed in shifting light, one moment all is bathed in red, the next a strange purple glow fills the room, and on it goes filling thee room with the dischordant powers of chaos.

As the last refrain dies away the Herald of Slaanesh motions a final gesture to the god of pleasure and then leads Re'vex back down the stairs.
He and Re'vex part ways at the bottom of the second flight, Tyranic to his noise bikers, and Re'vex to his forces.

When Tyranic enters the halls of the noise marines a haunting chrus played on low volume sonic weaponry meets him. The songs of doom have begun. Enemies of Chaos tremble before our wrath.

(btw nikev that is remarkably similar to Romulus's relationship whith bloodmaw, if you dont know what im talking about i refer you to the second secrets of raknoll rpg and the (spacewolves) bloodied hands bloodied snows fluff thread )

Tyranic Marta wrote:(btw nikev that is remarkably similar to Romulus's relationship whith bloodmaw, if you dont know what im talking about i refer you to the second secrets of raknoll rpg and the (spacewolves) bloodied hands bloodied snows fluff thread )

I've never heard of that. I don't keep up with spacemarines. In Warhammer 40k I'm strickly a IG kinda guy....and haven't done much IG things until this RP.
Is the RP in Dakka? if not Could you possibly send me a link in a PM?

Kelthad finished his planning and rechecked his work to make sure the attack line would match the stellar coordinates.

"Most excellent." he thought to himself proud of his work and planning. "Those proud fools won't know what plans I am making until it is too late for them to do anything about it."

At that moment a lesser sorcerer entered the room, the purple figments vanished along with the writing on his map. His plans were known only to himself and he wouldn't trust one of his henchmen with the knowledge of the overall plan. They knew their own individual roles and nothing more, much like a playwrite of old would do to his own actors or in this case pawns.

"The Skullscreamers have been told to prepare for another attack my liege." the lesser said while bowing to Kelthad.

"Good, good, are they geared for the attack?" Kelthad asked while walking towards the lesser.

"They are geared and await only your command for attack." the lesser responded submissively.

"Prepare the great horn then, we'll announce the attack to the enemy as well." Kelthad waved off the lesser and turned around to the windows.

"My liege, why do we announce our attack to the enemy?" the lesser questioned Kelthad, "Wouldn't it be wiser if we surprised them?"

"No it wouldn't." Kelthad said as the lesser began to shake behind him.

The lesser reached for his throat as he began to fall to the ground, his skin began to stain the robes he was wearing. The lesser attempted to scream only to have his helmet crush in upon his head, red fluid leaked from the crumpled remains of the helmet as his body fell forward and clanked on the ground.

"You don't ask me what I do or why I do it..." Kelthad said while reaching his gloved hand towards the body, a blue mist came from the body and formed a cloudy sphere in his hand before being absorbed into Kelthad's hand. "for you have no idea why I do it."
.......................................

A brass horn 35 feet in diameter lifted into position above the command center and blew a flat tin noise through the amplifiers within the horn.

The Skullscreamers and accompanying traitors howled in murderous glee as the waited for the gate to open and unleash them.

Kelthad watched them race off to the north and smiled crookedly behind his mask.
.........................................


"Sir, reports of another breakout attempt at our northern lines." one of Gregor's adjutants said as he presented the report to him.

"Hmmm, we're relatively safe." Gregor said while rubbing the back of his head, "Our northern lines are more supplied than the west and they held them off with a loss of three squads."

"What are your orders?" the adjutant said accepting the lack of surprise in Gregor's response.

"Send a scouting party to their east and see if they can get any info real quick." Gregor said, "They should be able to get close without getting their attention."
.......................................

"Nonsense!" Jost shouted to the report, "We won't waste our men on scouting when we already have the necessary information for the attack."

"I will agree with Jost." Madiv said, "This will simply not do, we have the information and if the Fluvians can hold the line let them."

Okay this is an event for chaos players only, the IG players should probably get to know each other a bit before they get into any RP fighting. The forces of chaos are attacking the front opposite of the HQ where the IG players are located. Don't worry IG players, once you get to know each other you'll get a chance to fight them.

nevermind

(ic) The herald of Slaanesh and his two greatest allies along with 10 full companies of bikers head the assault on the enemy, the plains before them melt away as the ultra fast bikes cut the ground away. The other chaos forces slower than the bikes are at top gear attempting to keep up, but to no avail.

Sensing the lethargy of their allies the bikers sweep apart in a glorious pair of arcs, as trained taking each a separate route meeting behind the main chaos force and then sweeping through the gaps in the line as the chaos forces are about to hit home, las shots spark harmlessly of the bikers armour and they dodge around explosions with thier preternatually enhanced senses, only a single biker falls to the ranged fire of the guardsmen,

Before any close combat weapons can be brought to bear the effects of the great banner of slaanesh begin to affect the guardsmen, putting them into a stupor of blissfullness. fully half of the guardsmen in the front lines die before they realize whats hit them, the bikes swerve in and out of the battle weaving gory paths of death as they move through the enemy, creating patterns only visible from the air but perfectly archestrated and painted with great skill they are depicting the fight in blood.

Tyranic Marta angles his bike at the recently wrecked chassis of a Leman russ battle tank and drives up the exposed underbelly, using the tank as a ramp Tyranic flys over the battle leashing the aincient warcry of the Traitor legions "Death to the false Emperor!!!!"

BIC:...

Rev'ex turned to the Marine who'd summoned him from his chamber.
" B'Kar...assemble the Brethren" Rev'ex hissed " I shall attend briefly."
" As you command." B'Kar replied and marched away to head his masters orders
Rev'ex strode rapidly descending the stairwell to his own chambers,his body infused with power from the ancient hymns.
The Giant servant of Slaanesh threw his chamber door open,smiling with malicious glee at the man he'd left tied to the rack.

" Come my Brother...I've need of you." Rev'ex said as he quickly sliced through the mans bonds.

Upon being released,the battered and torn Guardsman attempted a feeble assault on the Power Armoured form of Rev'ex,who simply smiles for a moment before wrapping his clawed fist into the mans hair and yanking him off his feet,the force exerted by rev'ex was such that the mans scalp ripped away from his skull in a bloody spray.

The Guardsman toppled to the stone floor screeching through the spiked orb still firmly wedged in his mouth.

Rev'ex glance at the Guardsman for a brief moment,then stared at the mans bloodied scalp witch he held grasped in his clawed fist like a small injured animal.

Rev'ex leered at the Guardsman,his fanged grin splitting his features as his tongue snaked out over the bloody scalp,the Guardsman shrieked as Rev'ex shuddered with pleasure.

Discarding the mans scalp,Rev'ex reached down his claws piercing the mans lower leg,the giant drug the howling Guardsmen from the chamber.

Moments later Rev'ex entered the halls the limp body of the follower of the False Emperor Dragging behind him,Tyrannic laughed his deep bass laugh upon seeing the broken trophy in Rev'ex grip.

Rev'ex approached his own squad with B'Kar had assembled near their transport,his senses afire with sound and color...the discordant chorus of the Noise Marines filling him with a unbridled joy.

Rev'ex bent and lifted the bleeding Guardsman from the ground and pushed him against the front of his personal transport,the Mans skin instantly fusing with the vehicle.

Rev'ex grasped the metal orb in the mans mouth and wrenched it free,spilling shattered teeth and blood to the ground below.

The writhing Guardsman wailed...his screams drowning out even the Noise Marines.

Rev'ex ran his tongue over the Guardsman's blood slicked skull and smiled.

" You my Brother...shall announce our arrival to your fellow followers of the Corpse God" Rev'ex laughed " You shall announce their doom."

The Guardsman threw back his head and pealed shriek after shriek into the huge chambers.

(we shall assume this happened b4 i posted)

Tyrannic Marta wrote:(we shall assume this happened b4 i posted)

Exactly...suffice to say that Tyranic and Rev'ex both left the towers at the same time,Tyranic roaring along with his bikers,Rev'ex and his squad moving along behind them in their "Screaming" Rhino.

(ver nice)

BIC:...

Rev'ex peered through the transports viewport cackling with delight as he watched Tyranic unleashing an orgy of mayhem upon the ranks of the followers of the Corpse God.
Rev'ex own Rhino plowed into a dazed and dreaming line of Guardsmen,several screaming as they disappeared under the vehicles treads.
Rev'ex roared in the confines of the Rhino " Disembark!!...We meet our Brethren in the Flesh!!"

The Rhinos hatches hissed open and Rev'ex and his squad strolled into the fray,Lasgun fire bouncing uselessly from their armour as they cut a bloody path through the screaming Guardsmen.
Rev'ex basked in the anguished howls of several of the followers of the False Emperor as B'Kar bathed them in flaming prometium.
" Glorious!! Glorious!!!" Rev'ex bellowed as he beheaded a burning Guardsman with a casual flick of his claws.
His senses sent aloft by the shrieks of his foes,Rev'ex released his whip from his side and turned to his men.

" For The Glory and The Delights!! " Rev'ex bellowed " Death to the False Emperor!!!"

They Charged into a squad of cowering Guardsmen.

(ooc) this is gonna be epic (ic) Tyranics bike lands on a guardsman crushing and pulping him into the dirt, as he raors forwards his sword arcs through a guardsmans chest and sticks there, the momentum of his charge propels the guardsman into his allies, knocking over a swathe which are quickly shredded by the tires of his bike

As the Chaos warriors mash through the ranks of guardsmen Tyranic moves towards the screaming rhino and the men fighting nearby, slowing to a stop he heralds Re'vex: "The lines of the guardsmen are broken, i am of no furthur use here until the rest of the infantry get here, i am going to pull my warriors back and allow you full reign, "For the chaos gods"

BIC:...

Rev'ex twisted his whip tightly around the neck of a struggling Guardsman,lifting him from the ground to eye level.
" Feel the exquisite agony Brother." Rev'ex whispered into the mans ear as his clawed fist slashed the Thrashing Guardsman's abdomen open spilling his intestines onto the blood slicked ground.

Rev'ex smeared the blood across his face inhaling deeply at it's delicious fragrance while the Guardsman sang a warbeling Death hymn for Rev'ex enjoyment.

Rev'ex saw Tyranic approach "The lines of the guardsmen are broken, i am of no further use here until the rest of the infantry get here, i am going to pull my warriors back and allow you full reign For the chaos gods" Tyranic said.

" For the Glory and Delights My Brother." Rev'ex replied with a satisfied sigh " We shall create a grand chorus to greet the followers of the Corpse God."

Rev'ex returned his attentions to his squad as they gleefully shredded the bodies of the pleading Guardsmen.

" Such wondrous music." Rev'ex smiled as he twisted his claws into the dangling entrails of the Guardsman in his grip " Come Little Brother...add to the Chorus!!"

The mans cries of pain echoed across the blasted field.

OOC:...

I belive I'm going to have Rev'ex do a " V'lad" on the poor Guardsmen...all of them.

FITZZ wrote: OOC:...

I belive I'm going to have Rev'ex do a " V'lad" on the poor Guardsmen...all of them.

All of them?


Good posting so far, I really want the IG players to RP getting comfy before I RP the IG response event.

@ Nachos...

Well...at least the ones that are still alive and laying around on the battlefield right now.
Rev'ex definitely enjoys "decorating" when he expects company.

I'm the only IG Rper as far as I know online right now, I could introduce myself to the other Commissar. But I can't speak for him, as I don't wanna control someone elses character

Ok...this will be my final RP for the night,I'm going to finish it and go spend some time with the Missus.

BIC:....

Rev'ex watched.. taking in every nuance as the man in his grasp twitched and died.
Disappointed,Rev'ex cast the broken body aside like a child's doll and called for B'kar.
" Inform the others to search the field...I want as many of the False Emperors followers who still draw breath brought to me." Rev'ex hissed.
B'Kar nodded and begin to walk away when Rev'ex placed a bloodied hand on his Shoulder "..And B'Kar...Have some of the men prepare stakes..long ones" Rev'ex grinned his eyes dancing with twisted merriment.
Rev'ex watched as dozens of The Skull Screamers marched onto the field,examining the bodies of the fallen Guardsmen and dragging those who still lived back towards the Rhinos.
Shortly,a pile of 20 foot sharpened stakes had also been piled near the vehicles.
Rev'ex gestured to B'Kar as he scanned the terrified faces of two dozen wounded Guardsmen.

" Him!" Rev'ex sighed pointing a clawed fingertip at a trembling man " His song shall be the first among many."

Two of the Marines grabbed the screaming Guardsman and slowly impaled him onto the sharpened pole,elevating him into the sky and planting the stake firmly in the ground.

The man howled as he hung in the air,the spiked stake running through his body.

Rev'ex swayed drinking in the mans discordant song.

" Now Him" Rev'ex smile pointing towards yet another man " His voice shall join the chorus."

One by one the screaming Guardsmen were impaled,their twisting bodies raised to the sky,there screams melding into a single glorious din as Rev'ex sang the ancient hymns of Slaanesh below them.

EDIT...To reflect Interaction with Nachos later post.

BIC:...

As Rev'ex exalted the power of the Chaos God,a Huge Marine walked up to B'Kar..

" Highness Kelthad has ordered that we return to the Tower Immediately" The Marine said.
B'kar nodded and dismissed the Marine,turning to Rev'ex,this would be twice in one day that B'Kar found himself in the dubious position of interrupting his Commander...he did not relish he idea whatsoever.
The Marine stood silently until Rev'ex frenzied glorifications to Slaanesh were complete,then slowly approached his Commander.
" With Deepest regret my Lord" B'Kar said " I must inform you that Kelthad has communicated his wish that we return to base."
Rev'ex glared at B'Kar,his face a grinning rictus,Pinkish Flame drifting from his eyes.
B'Kar took an involuntary step back and dropped to one knee "Forgive me my Commander."
Rev'ex sighed " Stand my trusted one" he said " Gather our Forces..Inform Kelthad we return at once."
B'Kar rose to his feet " Highness Kelthad request prisoner My Lord."
Rev'ex laughed Gazing up at the numerous Guardsmen he'd had impaled,he would not disband this glorious symphony despite Kelthads orders.
Rev'ex stared at two Guardsmen,one impaled through the legs another the feet,as they hung,Rev'ex deduced their songs were indeed strong...he would preserve them...take them with him.
He gestured at the pair of Guardsman " Those two...bring them." Rev'ex said storming towards his transport.
B'kar yanked the Guardsman down from their pikes,dragging them behind him he followed his Lord.

True, but you can look around camp and see what the Fluvians are like.

I might have jumped the gun with the chaos attack, my bad for that. It'll stay but I'll have to remember to try to keep both sides even.

BTW none of the IG players should be anywhere near the northern front at the moment seeing as though its clear on the other side of the fortress from the HQ/ landing point.

There will be an IG response to the chaos attack in due time, for now I'll leave you with a Chaos response to the attack. From now on I think that I'll also color code the events with red for chaos and blue for IG.


Kelthad watched the smoke pour into the sky, he knew that the attack would be a success...if he wished it to go any further that is. He once again summoned the purple glyphs to replay the attack once more and jotted his notes down on the map.

"Almost complete, two more should just about do it if we have a minimum amount of slaves brought back." Kelthad continued to plot before turning his gaze from the battle and towards the body that still lay crumpled on the ground, he wondered why it hadn't been picked up and fed to the slaves yet before realizing that he had put a psychic barrier on the door so that he wouldn't be interrupted.

He waved his hand over the barrier and felt the heat from the barrier as it dissipated into nothing. He opened the door and noticed a slave waiting next to it.

"Take the body to the barracks and its armor to the armory. Do to the body what you will, it is no longer of service to me." Kelthad ordered as he began to walk towards the lift at the rear of the command center. As soon as he stepped next to the doors they opened to reveal a waiting elevator car, he stepped in and willed it to take him to the basement of the complex. There he would seek council with the demon his lessers had summoned before recalling the Skullscreamers from the attack.

As the elevator approached its destination Kelthad's armor began to develop frost on it, he didn't notice the cold himself but that didn't prevent the nature of the universe from occuring. He did get somewhat nauseous from the increasing amount of psychic energy, but it wasn't anything he couldn't keep down.

"A meer discomfort for a greater reward." Kelthad thought to himself as the lifts' doors opened to reveal a barely lit passage to the basement and the attached catacombs.

Two lessers bowed as Kelthad approached them and opened the great door to the antechamber that now housed Gra'ksirra.

"Oh great daemon, I am Kelthad, Sorceror Magus, unleasher of great plagues, and corrupter of minds. I seek your council in matters of war." Kelthad began while spreading out his arms and bowing before the demon that towered over him.

The bird looked at Kelthad and began to speak, "Your comrades already told me of your plight and I already gave them council in these matters."

"I do not know what my lessers told you great one, but I am the only one among them who knows the whole truth of the matters being conducted. This attack and subsequent actions were all my doing." Kelthad said as he noticed the demon acting half-heartedly. "We are not as trapped as they believe us to be, my men have broken through their northern lines and should be returning with more slaves and converts, we will be able to..."

"You wish to summon something greater than myself." Gra'ksirra said as he looked at something in between his fingers and flung it away. "The attack pattern is just that, a pattern and you wish to seek my help in summoning whatever is you wish to summon."

"I seek to plunge the entire planet into the warp great one." Kelthad continued to act submissively, "With the proper alignment of blood and stars I should be able to summon a portal large enough to swallow the planet whole and allow entire crusades to enter from the warp."

"You seek a noble cause sorceror, yet I feel as if I am missing something." Gra'skirra probed the Sorceror but couldn't see past the psychic barrier of Kelthad's mind combined with the mask's own power.

"Yes, their reinforcements have arrived earlier than I had anticipated and set me back by several months." Kelthad said flatly, "This set back will set me back further as I must await another year for the stellar lines and the blood lines to match again and in that time they may figure out what I am doing here and call in the Astartes or more regiments."

"You have no faith in the true Astartes under your command?" the bird sat back and rubbed what seemed to be its chin in amusement.

'I have faith in them and trust them to do their duty, but not against the massed forces of more than five regiments." Kelthad said trying to remove any hint of anger from his voice.

"Leave me." Gra'ksirra said.

"What?" Kelthad responded in more shock than anger.

"It will take some time to think about your plight and to compare it to past events to give you correct council." Gra'ksirra noted the surprise in the sorceror's voice.

"Very well, I will leave you to your peace." Kelthad said as he tried to regain his composure and left the chamber.

"At least that one seemed competent." the great demon thought to itself as it began to record the conversation.
.......................................................
"Order the Skullscreamers to return with their bounty before they can coordinate a retaliatory strike." Kelthad told a lesser as he walked his way towards the lift to return to the command center.

"Yes my liege." a lesser in a plain robe bowed and turned to a nearby vox and called the the troops who had went out on the raid. "The master wishes your return with as many captives as possible, quickly before they can strike."

Alright, the Chaos players have had a taste of blood AND have some new play things, its been an overall good event from them. Will the IG have a good event of their own or will I be a jerk and have them all die of death? Find out tomorrow afternoon on "Stalemate".

Earl dragged the body into a ditch behind the barracks, sighing.

"Warrior, Soldier, Man at Arms, get down, scars on my hands and arms..." Earl mumbled

Chaos is just another thing we try to escape from, but are stuck in.

If we embrace it, we lose our minds.

We look up to the largest known individual who fought that which we struggle with; The Emperor

Earl clenched the Inquisitorial cross in his hand

No matter how hard it rains, withstand the pain.

Wallace's vox radio rumbled loudly

"North lines attacked. Chaos Forces withdrew after killing all on-duty forces."

Earl lit a Lho-Stick

Tyranic Marta and his bikers vanguard the retreat, their joyous crys echoing through the plains, the fortress will hum with the joy of slaanesh tonight

For the IG player in us all...



"The northern front has been destroyed." the report read, "...all on-duty personnel K.I.A or M.I.A. Immediate reinforcement recommended."

Gregor sat in his bunk dumbfounded by the report that he had just received. Thoughts raced in his mind as to how they were able to massacre his men and why they decided to pull back.

"Were they testing the lines and the men got out of control, did the regional commander neglect delivering comabt orders, what?" Gregor thought, "There's going to be hell to pay and crow to eat."

It was later in the afternoon when the last of the troopships had landed and late in the afternoon when the initial sounding of the attack had been heard by the forces surrounding the Tall Towers. The report made it seem like it was some kind of sneak attack and boggled the adjutants along with Gregor. How was this all possible when their other lines had held firmly? The Fluvians in the camp were angered with the news and some of the tank commanders had gunned their engines in preparation of an assault.

The four commanders met once again in the war room which had managed to retain the smell of bleach despite being cleaned almost 24 hours ago. This time there were no reports and the three Nucians were displaying distaste at how they had been summoned to the meeting. The only other difference was the fact that Gregor was sitting down instead of standing.

"Gentlemen," Gregor said behind his rebreather, "at 1834 hours our northern lines were assaulted by the archenemy...there were no survivors. Explanations of how this was able to occur escape my intelligence officers and myself."

"Its called incompetent command." Jost said in clear anger of the news, "You allowed an entire front, not just a small puncture, but an entire front to be destroyed. They are no longer contained General."

"Yes, but hopefully your scouts were able to ascertain some information about how this was able to happen." Gregor was visibly hurt by this information.

"No." Jost said, "We didn't waste our men on scouting information, you said that they wouldn't be able to break through so we felt that your information was current."

"Gregor..." Madiv said quietly, "you're young, you're new to commanding an entire regiment and new commanders make mistakes similar to this."

Gregor looked down at the table and closed his eyes, expecting the worse.

"We'll replace the northern front with our men and also replace the eastern front with our men." Madiv said in the same tone, "We'll also reinforce the western front and the southern front with some men. Move your eastern front and use them to reinforce the southern and western front."

"Sir do you think that's wise?" Fernando inquired.

"Yes I do," Madiv responded calmly, "unless the general here has any objections to it."

"I...I don't." Gregor sighed out of relief after speaking.

With that the three Nucians left Gregor alone in the war room and walked to their mens' quarters.

"We'll leave the specialists here to carry out Gregor's plan." Madiv told the others, "It's a sound plan after reading the details in the report. Difficult timing though and it has to work out like clock work or its guaranteed to fail."

"He had six months to plan, it was supposed to be good or else we should've had him executed on the spot." Fernando added.
....................................

The Nucians prepared to move out, the night would give them ample cover while they moved their gear to the other fronts. Flamer units were diverted to the northern front to remove any chaos symbolism that might've remained while the infiltrators and command staff remained in the HQ.

The Fluvians prepared to reinforce their two designated lines and on the eastern front they packed their gear to move out when the Nucians arrived. The Fluvians were disheartened to hear about the loss of so many friends at one time but ultimately angered by it. Their conviction to the Imperium increased as their hate for the archenemy increased. The Nucians watched the Fluvians as they moved, they seemed slow and lethargic when they first landed but now seemed to move with motivation. Maybe the deaths of an entire front was enough to get them out of their routine fighting.

The Nucians were about to experience their first Netat Wakeup.
....................

Gregor was sitting asleep in the war room when Brent discovered him. Brent felt bad for Gregor but knew there wasn't much he could do for the man. He picked the general up and began to carry him to his quarters when the lights from a patrol caught them.

"Do you need help?" a new voice called to Brent, footsteps came closer to him and the voices face came into view. It was one of the commissars attached to the Nucians.

"If you could get the door for me I would appreciate it." Brent replied to the other commissar. Brent waited for the Nucian commissar to open the door before taking Gregor inside and laying him in his cot.

"Thank you Commissar..." Brent raised the pitch of his voice to show that he was asking a question

"Nikev, Nikev Sism." the Nucian replied.

"One of the new guys eh?" Brent rubbed his forehead, "Would you mind doing me a favor?"

"Sir?" Nikev replied

"Try to keep it down, people are trying to sleep you know." Brent said before walking off to his own quarters.

Nikev watched as Brent disappeared into the night before continuing his patrol.

Alrighty, the first RP day is over and its now nighty night time. I hope you guys could deal with the rapid amount of vague events I posted for you. In the near future there will be a single post with events for both sides to detail what the plans for both armies are. That event will be more specific for the characters involved and separate some players from each other so get buddy buddy with each other this week(yes I'm giving you guys a whole week to do some more intro posting, and yes I will monitor it to see if it begins to fizzle).

Good luck, have fun, you just beat the tutorial.

(Yeeeeesssssss tutorial over!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

*Earl falls asleep in his bed back in his quarters*

Grunthin was stunned at the news the northern front had been destroyed. As soon as the first reports of attack had come through he had requested permission to lead the Nucian tank convoy to reinforce the Northern sector but the attack had been over before they had even reached their staging area in the West.

Despite the shocking loss, Grunthin lead the Nucians into the most advantageous positions before continuing to the Northern section. Luckily his brief as a tank hunter was a roving one, and his duties towards the Nucians discharged he ordered Erlag to head north...

I think a map is in order? Would make things easy.

BIC:...

Ezreal walked back to his cabin. His back still burning. This was the second time he had to remove them.
He hoped that they wouldn't come back. But in his heart he knew the truth they were lost.
Earlier a messenger had arrived telling about a raid from the traitors on their northeren front. "Why
didn't anyone warned him." he tought. "He could have lead a counter attack and remove that stench from
existence. But it was already over. The traitors had retreated, the fear for the righteous Emperor filling
their minds. The Emperor was truly great."$

Ezreal walked into his cabin. Only a bed and table filled the room. He never was a man with a need for luxury.
That where things man did not need. The only thing man need where the things that kept him going. He opened
a new bottle of brandy, to ease his mind. To make him sleep softly, and keep the dreams away. Reality was already
bad, he didn't need his dreams to make it worse.

He filled his second glass, when someone knocked on the door. "Enter." The door opened.
A guardsmen in the black and gold uniform of the nucians stood before him. Ezreal raised his eyebrow,
why did he come here. "I have a message for you commissar." Ezreal looked at the mans spotless uniform.
Not even a single spat of mud visible. He sighed and hoped the nucians wouldn't all be like him.

"I'm listening." "Commissar Nikev wishes to have a meeting with the Fluvian Commissars. And he hoped that you
as senior commissar would be there." "Senior Officer?" Ezreal tought. "Didn't this commissar know his name? Every officer in
this entire segmentum and around knew his name. And his shame. "When?" "Tomorrow, 08.00 hours at the Nucian command post."
"Very well, i'll be there. You're dismissed." Ezreal watched the Nucian leave his room. He drank his glass empty, he would
need more if he hoped to survive tommorrow.

The Final Rest glided to a halt amid the destruction left in the wake of the Choas attack. Smoke still drifted lightly across the ground from burned out fortifications, partially masking the tortured forms suspended from large spikes.

The crew stared out of their hatches and view screens at the horror strewn before them.

Grunthin ordered the tank shut down and for the crew to grab their entrenching tools. They walked over to the closest bodies and began the gruesome task of cutting them down and collecting their identity discs before carefully placing them at the bottom of a rear section of trench.

It took them most of the night but they were eventually able to fill earth over the massed grave. They were covered head to foot in gore and blood and had a large sack of identity discs of men they knew. Hopefully HQ would know if anyone was missing.

The Nucian relief forces finally arrived just before dawn, hearing the sound of hymns drifting across the abandoned fortifications from where the 6 tankers were standing vigil over their fallen comrades, singing their way though hymns of devotion and retribution.

Many of the Nucians joined in with the small band of Fluvian mourners as flame units systematically destroyed any perceived taint of chaos, the inferno on the ground matching the light of dawn, making it seem as if the whole galaxy was aflame.

As the sun's rays kissed the mass grave, Grunthin lead the Fluvians in their song of mourning; the Nucians held a respectful silence until the last note had finished ringing out over the plain. The Nucians hesitantly started to sing their own song of mourning as the crew of the Final Rest wearily turned from the grave, the volume slowly rising until the whole northern front sounded out the melancholy melody.

Grunthin and the rest of his crew exchanged respectful looks and nods with the Nucuans they passed, the dry blood on their skin cracking and tearing as they returned to their tank to clean themselves and their tools and to rest.

Bic:.....

Ezreal woke up, his head still pounding from the night before. it was a sensation that he had gotten used too.
It was a smal price to pay for his dreamless nights. He looked around he had fallen a sleep on his chair. He filled
his glass with the smaal amount of brandy still available in the bottle. He savored the warm feeling flowing trough
his body. It was time to get going. He buckled up, his faithfull powersword 'Elegance' hanging on his side.

He walked outside in the drooly morning, The camp was already buzzing with activity. Ezreal could almost
feel the mens doubt. Overnight the Nucians had taken their positions, some even between them.
His men would have to be carefull, not to betray themselves.

In his daily routine Ezreal walked upon his hill, looking at the black fortress beeing lit up by the sun. As
always on the main tower their was a small figure. He had noticed him first a few weeks ago. And he
had seen him there for every single day. "Who was he?" He asked himself everymorning. But the
small figure never answered. (If one of the chaos marines, wish to take this position. Just go ahead."

For half an hour he stood there observing the fortress, taking in every detail. Looking for change. He imagined
the traitor doing the same. Ezreal looked back. He was gone. Ezreal climbed down from the hill, his hand resting on
Elegance. She always made him feel safe. He walked trough the muddy paths toward the Nucian headquarters.
Wondering why this Commissar wished to speak to him. "Was it to laugh at him, or was he truly unaware?"

He was pulled out of his tought as he met fellow commissar Anderson. Anderson was a true pdf-commisar.
Born in the royal family as the seventh son. He had no hopes of being king. So he enlisted in the local forces.
He was trained at the local commisariat, and so wasn't a true ministorum approved commisar. He wished
to make a name for himself, and earn honour in battle. "To bad he was so incompetent. he had no hope of ever becoming a true commissar."

"Goodmorning Commissar Ezreal." Ezreal nodded. Anderson held him in great honour. He didn't care, it didn't
matter they were all dead anyway. Not daunted by the grim looking fellow commisar, Anderson continued.
"I trust you have also been asked to speak with our fellow commisars?" "Where is commissar Lirgt?" Ezreal asked.
At least that man had some excperience. "He is having his hand removed, it was growing out of proportion."
Ezreal growled, this stupid taint was claiming his fellow commissars one by one. Ezreal and the other two
were the only ones left.

Commissar Anderson only had some scales growing on his hands, wich he covered with his gloves.
"Well, lets get moving then." They continued walking towards the Nucian basecamp.
"Tell me about yesterdays raid." He commanded, cause if he didn't Anderson would begin to
praise himself. Anything was better then go trough that again. Anderson told about it,
how he had bravely charged the traitors with only a handfull men, only to see them flee before him.

Ezreal didn't listen to him, instead he studied the nucian basecamp. The Nucians had stamped
out a basecamp out of nothing within a day. Everywhere he looked he saw nothing dirty. Everything
was crispy even the tired guardsmen looked like they were still able to go on a parade. "Toysoldiers!" he
muttered "Probably freshly inducted guardsmen.

Commissar Anderson felt silent as they entered the Nucian Headquarters, every tought of self praise lost
as they took in the grand comfort of the building, all the wealth here could buy them a sizeable estate.
But instead it was used for a Basecamp. A young girl walked towards them, a servo skull floating above her.
"Commisar Ezreal and Lirgt?" she asked. "Commisar Lirgt couldn't make it" Ezreal lied. "This is Commissar Anderson"
The girl nodded. "Follow me, Commissar Nikev is awaiting you." They followed her into the HQ.

OOC:....

Commisar Ezreal would look something like this.

Nikev sat in his chair looking over the reports of the attack on the North Sector, "Poor men." he stated as he began to stack the papers back up, he hadn't gotten to speak to the other Commissar's yesterday since he was called on patrol. He had sent a message and his servent girl to meet the Commissar's as they arrived.

His data-pad pipped and he immediately rose as the group entered the room. "Commissar Ezreal and Commissar Anderson as you requested." "Thank you Julianna, that is all." The servant girl turned and left the three commissars in the room. "It is a pleasure to meet you both." Began Nikev, gesturing for the other two commissars to take a seat. "I thank you both for meeting me under these circumstances. I just wished for a chance that we commissars can get together and talk."

Okay, red area is the fortress where the forces of chaos are located. Blue lines represent the IG lines as they did in the other map. The valley is in the upper left and the farming community is to the upper right, light green rectangles are fields, the blue rectangles are Fluvian HQ locations, yellow rectangle is the Nucian landing zone, city is in lower left. Compass rose to the left of the map.

BIC:...

Ezreal looked at the commissar behind the desk. He looked young, but still he looked experienced.
Probably his scond or third campaign."It is a pleasure to meet you both." Began Nikev, gesturing for the
other two commissars to take a seat. "I thank you both for meeting me under these circumstances.
I just wished for a chance that we commissars can get together and talk."

Anderson nodded and quickly jumped in the comfy chair, leaving the second one for him.
Ezreal filled captured when he sat down, the chair seemed to suffocate him. Commissar Nikev poored a drink
in three crystal glasses. Ezreal gratefully accepted, Commisar Nikev just rose one notch in his book.
"Can talk with a dry mouth, can we?" Nikev said. "I agree."

Ezreal took a big sip of his drink. This quality of drinks, he hadn't tasted in a year. The local
population was a disaster when it came to alchoholic drinks. God, he really wanted to get out of
this planet, they even ploughed with horses in some area's for the Emperors sake.
"So what do you want to know?" Ezreal asked leaning out of the chair.

"First things first." Nikev said "Where is commissar Lirgt?" "Lirgt is being operated for the moment.
He recieved a bullet through his hand." Anderson smoothly lied. "He didn't even hesitate." Ezreal
tought. He made a mental note not to trust loyalty, this was what they did. "Bring my regards."
"I will." Anderson said. "My turn, where are your fellow commisars?" Ezreal asked. "Ah; please excuse my
fellow commissars. They are still on the field managing everything."

"Well then, lets get down to business. I Understand you would like to be informed with
the situation as it current is." Nikev nodded. Ezreal explained the entire situation to the commissar.
But lieving the taint out of it. He hoped Nikev wouldn't notice it.

OOC:....

*looks at posts*

I'm on fire today

OOC:...

Went back and did an "add on" to my last RP post,Rev'ex has now returned to the Tower.
Will Rp again later today.

Updated front page with all names of players.

BIC:...

Rev'ex entered the main chamber of the Tower,B'Kar at his side.
One of Kelthads boot licking subordinates advanced and greeted them.
" The most exalted Kelthad is pleased with your part in the decimation of our foes Commander Rev'ex" The Apprentice Sorcerer said in a gurgled voice " But is most unhappy with the limited amount of prisoners you have returned with."
Rev'ex stepped forward as B'kars hand fell to the sword at his side.
" Inform Kelthad that those follower of the Corpse God left on the field were an offering to Great Slaanesh." Rev'ex hissed " Does Kelthads desires overshadow those of The Lord of Dark Delights?"
" No...Comader Rev'ex" The underline squealed taking a step back and raising his hands defensively.
Rev'ex gestured to B'kar who flung the bound Guardsmen to the groveling Sorcerers feet " There...My gift to Kelthad...pray it satisfies him." Rev'ex spat and turned marching away.
Later.Rev'ex stood alone atop the main tower,his eyes burning as he watched the followers of the Corpse God desecrate his offerings...lightly he sung...vowing to his Dark Master that each follower of the False Emperor would have their screams added to a glorious song.

OOC: why is there big gaos in the guard lines? would they not look more like

http://www.monolith-icon.eu/sklep//_var/gfx/7cda6b3503223e09dda5f154d0f0c4f7.jpg

---

Elanor walked through the maze of tents, everywhere she went I was like the Fluvians were going out of their way to avoid her, it didn't feel right, something felt off. She made her way through the tents and ended up at what looked like the HQ tents, se looked around, there was not as much of a buzz of activity as she expected, it looked like there was some sort of meeting going on.

She approced the door and the Gaurd stepped forward, blocking her path

"sorry sir, authourized personel only" he said, putting his hand out to stop her

sir she thought, ahh the armour, it does make it hard to tell, she removed her helmet, the seals hissing as outside air seeped in, "thats ma'am to you corpsman"

"sorry ma'am, but you're still not getting in"

she decided to go for the bluff, "were you not informed, I'm Captain Fett, Cyprian stormtrooper Corp, you're commander asked for me to attend this meeting"

"Sorry ma'am, nobody told me ma'am" he replyed, looking around nervously

"very well, I won't tell your commisar this time"

he moved out the way and she carried on inside, the interior of the tent must have climate control, it was particularly cool in here. she puzzeld over her conversation with the gaurd outside, the intire time he had been speaking, it hadn't seen that his mouth had moved at all, even though it wasn't easy to tell under his rebreather, but it seemed odd, and it wasn't the first odd thing that she had noticed

Disregard....will try again later.

Just pretend that the lines are connected for now, I plan to redo the map because the current one borders NSFW now that I look at it...

Will try to have an even cooler one up by the end of the day.

OOC:...

@ninja

Are you barging into the commissar meeting? Or another one?

Updated map on page 5.

halonachos wrote:Updated map on page 5.

OOC:..

Hmmm...a lovely Farming community just to the NorthEast...this gives me an idea.

OOC:...

Are the farmers and inhabitants of the city also tainted?

@Fitzz

Just try and come trough or lines, you will fall short. For The Emperor guides us.

(ic) Tyranic slowly walks up the stairs, repeating the prayer of bliss for every step, 3000 steps later he crests the nothern tower, he turns to the dawn, feeling its rays of light wash over him, filling him with the power of life. He raises his arms slowly and begins to envoke the power of Slaanesh, to rid the fortress of imperfection and repair any faults its its workmanship, he exhorts blessing from the god, in exchange for the souls of those who die on the battle field.

He prays to the great god for enduring perfection and everlasting elation as a servant of the dark prince of pleasure. Every morning he has crested this tower and repeated this prayer, below him he can feel the cracks in the stone work knitting together, forming seamless perfect forms.

Every morning he pays the same price. As he finishes his prayer he is lifted into the air and is moved over the lip, he sees the guardsman at the crest of the hill below, he never sees this, every morning I pay this price and Slaanesh ensures my silence by preventing anyone else from seeing.

Tyranic lifts his arms out to the side as he is turned around in place, a golden nimbus is surrounding the point where he was standing, as the nimbus dissapears a fully armoured figure is there, an exact copy of Tyranic, a clone of the man, created by the will of Slaanesh. The Tyranic clone nods to the Tyranic origional, and the the origional falls.

300 stories later he hits the ground, his frame shatters and his blood pools on the ground, as the Guardsman begins to walk away the blood follows him down the hill....

Completely heedless the Guardsman just witnessed the gifts of Slaanesh and thier cost.

On top of the tower the new Tyranic walks down the stairs, back to his bike, back to cleanse the blood from the ground as he does everday, every week, every month, as he will for the rest of the existance of the man named Tyranic Marta.

Why go through the lines, when you can fly over them?!

(Go great bird Daemon of Tzeentch GO!)

ghosty wrote:Why go through the lines, when you can fly over them?!

(Go great bird Daemon of Tzeentch GO!)

Its time to go hunting. We shall shoot him out of the sky with millions of flashlights.
A Great feast would erupt as the bird gave them enough food for a good meal.

How would a giant deamon bird taste like?

(like crap)

OOC: Love your post Tyranic - fantastic stuff

Tyranic Marta wrote:(like crap)

SilverMK2 wrote:OOC: Love your post Tyranic - fantastic stuff

But now seriously, indeed fantastic stuff.
Did you see Ezreal waving?

OOC:...

Very nice Tyranic...very nice indeed.
I had taken sillyboys nod and RP'ed Rev'ex atop the Tower,but your post definitely outshines mine.

thanks guys, i was gonna do this anyway but silly boy gave me a good opportunity

anyhoo moving on (bic) As the trio of bikers scream across the pains again as they do every morning the guardsmen head inside, the taint of chaos is too powerful to resist around this one. the bikers circle the fortress coming to a halt alongside the base of the northern tower, Tyranic wishes a prayer to slaanesh and as he speaks the blood receeds into the earth, leaving the ground clean and untarnished.

His two friends, sworn to secrecy, are the only ones allowed to see the rites of the herald, the most sacred position a devotee of Slaanesh can possess but also the most damming.

Today however the routine is changed, in a lightening stirike the three bikers race through the camp, randomly snaching guardsmen from those left outside, and whisking three more subjects back to the fortress, before the guardsmen can react. The alarm is raised but nothing can be done to the supernatuarlly fast bikers, again all is quite on the plains of steel.

Once back in the fortress the three bikers take their stupefied hostages down ito the dungeons, and Tyranic tasks them with binding the guardsmen to the walls. Once this is done the two friends head back to the noise halls and Tyranic heads out to find Re'vex. his orchestra has three more instruments to tune.

My rp is taking longer than expected, and it doesn't even have impact on the storyline! Fitzz. Tyranic, come play with me :*(

(On the topic of Tzeentch tasting)

Or, it would taste like anything and everything. Afterall, the changer of ways is so fickle, one minute you'd be eating succulent chicken, the next faeces.

What an odd thought.

IC: Gra'ksirra was, for once in his life, at a disposition. He had been summoned forth from the warp, from his home, unceremoniously, and then bound to a chamber in the bottom of some fortress on some planet, in some galaxy. There wasn't even good lighting to write by! The ancient Daemon stretched, it's limbs creaking ominously, and blue flickering light glowing ominously from the gaps between his bindings. Rolling his neck, satisfied at every individual cracking of a vertebrae under strain, Gra'ksirra focused his considerable mental processes on the matter at hand. It was obvious, that the Sorcerer did not care for the presence of a Daemon of change. It had become apparent that the personal feud of the Dark Prince and the Changer of Ways had had reverberations in realspace. Obviously, Kelthad had summoned him for his experience, rather than his power. Was that all he had become? An advisor to be bought at the right price in souls? Gra'ksirra couldn't fight any more; his decrepit stature belied his considerable strength, and his magic was beyond compare, but time had taken it's toll on him, he no longer craved to kill and maim in the name of the gods. All that really mattered to him was his life's work.

The feathered Daemon let out a throaty cawing, not dissimilar to a sigh, and looked at one of the attendants in the room. The plainly garbed marine bowed his head in acknowledgement of the Daemons gaze, but made no attempt to interact. Gra'ksirra, realising he was not going to engage in any debates, or conversations with the subordinates, decided to amuse himself in the only way he knew. Delicately opening the same pouch he had placed his reading glasses in, the lord of change rummaged around in the contents, obviously looking for an item of value. The Sorcerer stirred at the other side of the room. He didn't trust the presence of Daemons of this power and intelligence. Ultimately, they were looking to further their own goals. And one rummaging for an item was an alert he couldn't ignore. The sorcerer began to move towards the Daemon, staff held in his hands like a ward. The Greater Daemon seemed oblivious to his presence, and even as he got closer, Gra'ksirra didn't even acknowledge that the attendant was standing at his feet. And to the sorcerer, the feet told him everything he needed to know. Bird like, and scaled. Great black talons burst forth from the tips, and the marine, whom was young in superhuman standards, fancied he could see his futures abrupt end in the polished claws.

"Do you know how to play this game?"

The Sorcerer looked up slightly. Bobbing at eye level was the Daemons head. It was partially bandaged; he could not see the eyes of his quarry, only two glowing lights that filtered out from between the creases in the linen wraps.

Turning his head slightly to look across to the contents of the Bird Daemons hand, the marine recognised the small black and white checker board. In his time before he had seen the light, he had played this game of strategies frequently.

Gra'ksirra smiled inside.

People were so easy to manipulate.

(your a deamon of change Tyranic god would probably make him fight you, but ill see what i can do)

(ic) The door to the room creaks open, and even as the deamon and the sorceror are setting up thier pieces an iad interrupts, "The herald of The Dark Prince requests an audience with the lord of change, deamon herald of the great changer of ways"

OOC: Incidently, this plain arsed socerer is going to most likely be my 'active' character, y'know? Halonachos said that the Daemon could be a more passive character, whilst this sorcerer will be my active one! I just need to mould him some more, and all will be ready!

(yay or nay?)

BIC:...

Rev'ex had returned to his chambers,a mixture of fury and melancholy vexed him as he gazed at his empty racks.
"Ah to elicit the joyous songs of pain" Rev'ex thought as he gently flicked his whip into the empty air.
His musings where broken by a voice at his chamber doors " Commander Rev'ex" Tyranic said in his deep and intoxicating voice " I've brought you a gift...instruments for your pleasure."
Rev'ex smiled with malicious delight " My appreciation to you Great Tyranic...come Brother..I shall create a symphony for our mutual enjoyment."
Tyranic smiled in return "...and for the Praise of Dark Delights."
Rev'ex joyfully followed Tyranic down to the lower chambers.

OOC:...oops,seems Tyranic made a detour on route to locate Rev'ex.

Maybe he was leading you to something...

Giggle.

(looks like my audience with the great deamon will have to be postponed for a post or two )
(ic) At the bottom of the stairs Tyranic opens the door to the room of souls, a room with the bodies of the dead and dying infused into the walls, creating a cacophony of poetic screams, intonations of pitch and volume sending most noise marines into rapture, such was the dedication of the two men that the screams brought clear thought but pure bliss to thier minds, allowing them to see, hear feel taste and smell in clarity so great that nature could not compare to the power of their senses, so effective they are.

Chained to three pillars facing each other, their arms above their heads and thier hands and feet stitched together the guardsmen are mumuring prayers to the emperor to save them from their plight.

Taking a small knife from his armour, razor sharp and about 8 inches long on one blade, the other blade extending beneath the hilt, is 3 inches long. Slowly so as to elicit the greatest pain from his victem Tyranic skinns the first man, starting at his fingers he slices each along its full length and peels the skin back from the mans hand, making a slit along the mans forearm he prays to Slaanesh to hold the mans blood inside his body, preventing him from dying, he slowly peels the mans skin of his arms, and shoulders, and then makes a thin incision around the mans neck and down his chest, he pulls the skin away in two sections... (i wil carry this on soon)

ghosty wrote:OOC: Incidently, this plain arsed socerer is going to most likely be my 'active' character, y'know? Halonachos said that the Daemon could be a more passive character, whilst this sorcerer will be my active one! I just need to mould him some more, and all will be ready!

If you're going to use this sorceror, you'll need to do a character sheet. Since he may be being manipulated you don't have to go into detail, just name and a background telling about him being manipulated.

Seeing as though this will be your active character you are in charge of him and wounds will be attributed to this character, also note that he is not a 'god mode' sorceror but more like a CSM who can pull a rabbit out of a hat.

Gra'ksirra will be a narrator more or less from this point and as a side note remember to have a secondary character in mind for when the gak hits the fan.

-Your friendly neighborhood GM,
Halonachos

P.S. in relation to Tyranic's above post, holy gak.

ghosty wrote:Maybe he was leading you to something...

Giggle.

Possiably...but Tyranic visiting your character sort of nulls my last RP....what to do what to do..

FITZZ wrote:

ghosty wrote:Maybe he was leading you to something...

Giggle.

Possiably...but Tyranic visiting your character sort of nulls my last RP....what to do what to do..

It was a messenger FOR tyranic and not Tyranic himself.

GM MAGIC GO!

halonachos wrote:

FITZZ wrote:

ghosty wrote:Maybe he was leading you to something...

Giggle.

Possiably...but Tyranic visiting your character sort of nulls my last RP....what to do what to do..

It was a messenger FOR tyranic and not Tyranic himself.

GM MAGIC GO!

Still a bit stuck...Guess I'll have Rev'ex pull the wings off of some flys until I figure it out.

Aren't you glad his hobby is torturing things now?

I think I'll rp the sorcerer being an unnamed npc for a bit longer before he fully falls into thrall.

sillyboy wrote:OOC:...@ninja
Are you barging into the commissar meeting? Or another one?

your commisar meeting

character interection is good

sos bout the wait was in a class without puters

(ic) (carrying on) the sections pull away smoothly, revealing the mans ribs and his heart, beating in a rapid set of thumping rythyms. The skin is dragged down to the mans wiast, his belt and pants halting the progression of the skinning, "you can keep the skin on your legs... brother", but your face must be exposed.

(ic) The mans screaming intensifies as Tyranics knife slits down the mans face, slowly peeling the mans face back the cheeks and internal workings of his mouth are revealed and slowly the rest of his head is exposed. The result would be terrifying to mortal eyes, indeed both of the other guardsmen are also screaming in pure terror.

The screams of the skinned guardsman have a rattly wet quality as his open cheeks allow the air to rush past and through them, shrill whistling acompanying the screams, Tyranic wipes a tear from his eye, "poetry"

(ic) I have satisfied my needs Re'vex, now I will go and have my audience with the greater deamon residing in this fortress, I have a need to tlak to him, have fun with these two, they should be, orchestral.

The crew of the Final Rest buttoned up inside the tank, sleeping through most of the morning after a punishing day of driving followed by the heavy and bloody work they had done throughout the night. They would occasionally stir as a vehicle drove close to the concealed tank firing point they were occupying, or if the troops settling in around them were shouting too closely.

Despite being weary to the core and more than used to sleeping cooped up inside the tank, most of the men slept poorly; fighting the taint of chaos and other, more natural nightmares which fought to tear their sleeping minds and perhaps even their very souls asunder.

Hello and welcome to another show of " Evade the Commissar", with your host Ian Fletcher!

"Thank you, thank you, you're all looking fabulous. Now today we have three contestants; Private Flemming, Private Schuss, and Seargeant Reeves, our returning champ. Good to see you again Reeves."

"Good to be here Ian."

"Alright I'm sure you fine folks are well aware of the rules but for those new members of the audience we'll lay them out for you, tell them Ed!"

"Our contestants will be placed into a maze that is filled with hidden traps and hiding places, it works like a giant game of tag and whoever is last to be tagged wins the game!"

"Thank you Ed, now contestants on your mark, get set...GO!"

"The constestants took off fast this timeEd, it looks like Reeves has already found himself a hiding spot while the other two are still scrambling around. Uh-oh it looks like Flemming is heading towards one of our many traps...and the Commissar pops out of the wall and executes Private Flemming, those Commissars are tricky huh Ed?"

"They sure are Ian."

"Someone get a mop over there, he was a gusher! Now its down to Reeves and Schuss... where is Reeves, he left his hiding spot. Nevermind there's Schuss he's hiding under the fake cabin over there and the Commissar is just wandering around the maze. Cold, colder, colder, you're freezing Commissar! Hah, hah, hah!"

"Now don't help the guy out Ian."

"I was just talking about his love life Ed. Zing!"

"Good one Ian."

"Looks like the Commissar found Private Schuss and is dragging him from under the cabin. You're out Schussy my boy and the Commissar puts one into his chest, that's gotta hurt."

"Looks like he doesn't have the heart to go on Ian."

"Shut the feth up Ed, I do the jokes around here."

"I'm sorry Ian."

"Yeah you're going to be...Anyhow it looks like Sergeant Reeves is our winner once again, come on out Segeant Reeves! Would you look at that, he was hiding in the Commissar's hat the entire time! He's a superman at this sort of stuff. So Reeves, what do you have to say to the lovely audience."

"You know, just growing up on Catacha you just learn how to survive and that's exactly what I did here Ian, its great fun you know."

"And I understand that since the last time we saw you, you got married, how is that going for you?"

"You know, growing up on Catacha you just learn to survive."

"Good one... and now Ed tell the good Sergeant what he's won!"

"He's won an all expenses paid trip to Terra, yes Terra, the holy Mecca of the galaxy. You'll spend 4 days and 4 nights in the luxurious Golden Throne Hotel with Spa and Pool tokens included, on top of that you've won a new car! The brand new VW Carnifex, why settle for an average car when you can run average over?"

"Thank you Ed, and from the cast and crew goodbye and remember to stay away from anything with a black trenchcoat!"


A little treat for you guys. To answer a previous question no the citizens themselves are not mutated due to their distance from the main battlefield, for all intents and purposes the taint itself is confined to the fortress and surrounding battlefield.

OK...[backs away]

BIC:...

Rev'ex stood enraptured with Tyranics handiwork,the songs he'd coaxed from the skinned Guardsman a symphony for the senses.
Rev'ex turned to a large table behind him,carefully selecting a ornate container of pulsating pink liquid,carefully he poured a small drop onto the skinned Guardsman's flayed cheek eliciting a scream from the mans very soul.
"Ahhh" Rev'ex sighed "Glorious."
He eyed the two trembling Guardsman that howled for their comrade to be strong.
" Worry not my Brothers" Rev'ex hissed with glee " Your opportunity to join in song is forthcoming.
The bound and terrified Guardsman shrieked and hurled damnations in the name of the Corpse God at Rev'ex as he turned and delicately poured another drop of the viscous liquid into the flayed Guardsman's eye.

Tyranic's rapture continues all the way to the chambers of the deamon, but as he approaches he shakes hhimself out of it, he would need his wits about him to deal with the deamon in a civilized way. Knocking on the door he enters the room, and draws his sabre, touching the tip to the neck pad of the sorceror he asks gently if he could have amoment with the deamon, when the sorceror and his accomanyment have left Tyranic sheaths his sword and stands before the Deamon. From Tyranic mouth comes a high pitched sibilant voice, ringing with tunes and entrancing melodies, "My voice on this world has brought me here to you deamon of mine enemy, i would ask to speak with you."

Ahh Fitzz, as riveting as your posts are, they make me worry for your mental stability.

(your controlling the deamon ghostly?)

ghosty wrote:Ahh Fitzz, as riveting as your posts are, they make me worry for your mental stability.

I worry about it myself from time to time as well...I suppose we all have "dark rooms" in our minds...sometimes I just allow others to peek into those rooms.

(my dark rooms are continually open, im trying to air them out )

BIC:...

Nikev didn't notice some holes that filled his story. Ezreal felled a heavy burden
fall of his shoulder. But still he questioned himself. Why was he happy to tell lies?
Was chaos corrupting his mind? He couldn't figure it out. He banned the
toughts out of his mind as NIkev started talking about the reserves that had arrived.
"Together with the Fluvians we will crush this small force easily."

Commissar Anderson heavily nodded. Quick victories was what he need to raise his prestige.
Ezreal sighed. He had to pull this mentallity out of the boy. This would only end in his
death and those of his men, if he cared for glory too much. "I have the data here, if
you give me your data-pad recognition code, i will gladly hand it over."

Ezreal pulled a tattered machine out of his coat. A bullet hole clearly poking through the device.
"This could be a problem." He said with a vague smile. Nikev looked at him, his mouth wide open.
"How long are you commanding your forces without one?" Ezreal tried to remember, his mind was blank.
"I guess for over two weeks?" "fifteen days to be exact!" anderson added.

"We can't have a commisar running around without the necassary equipment." Nikev said opening a drawer.
He pulled out a new still shining data-pad. Nikev quickly tranferred the intel and gave it to Ezreal.
He politly accepted. He wasn't a real fan of the machine spirit. He only trusted himself and the Emperor.
Ezreal glared at the machine. Green dots lighting up on the screen. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Nikev answered. We still have some things to discuss." The door slammed open
a red haired woman in full stormtrooper equipment walked in. Ignoring the assistent telling het to stop.
Anderson jumped out of his seat. "How dare you enter, unasked for. Tell me your name trooper so i can
discipline you!." Ezreal pushed Anderson softly. But still Anderson tipped over and landed uncermoniously
on his behind.

Ezreal looked at the young girl and smiled, remembering his own days in the stormtroopes regiment.
The girl looked in Ezreal eyes, her eyes betraying that she knew him. His shame.
But still she respectfully nodded. "The Emperor protects" she said. "And so shall we." Ezreal said finishing
the stormtroopers creed. The girl shook his hands and walked towards Commisar Nikev.
"Ellenar Fett, reporting for duty."

OOC:...

Interaction

GO GO!

It was noon and Grunthin was standing in the command cupola scanning the keep his his binocs, noting potential routes up to the tower that would keep his tank covered as much as possible. His chosen tactic was the ambush, but he was equally skilled in a more predatory role.

The official head count had come back from HQ on the identity tags and there were several men unaccounted for. Grunthin could swear he could hear their screaming mixed with the wind as it shifted over the plane.

He sighed and turned the binocs to the northern planes, scanning the ground, looking for depressions and cover that would hide him on an approach from the northern sector - it always paid to be prepared. It was one of the reasons he and his crew had survived to be decorated tank aces...

OOC: Yeah sorry Tyranic, I've been a bit busy, what with the homeworks and the prior commitments and the like, but, I don't like to leave people hanging, so...

IC: Gra'ksirra looked up placidly. Standing in the chamber was a newcomer, a warrior of chaos and worshipper of the god of excess. The marine, who stank of magic removed the sorcerers from the room with little more than a glance, and then proceeded to walk to the centre of the chamber.

"My voice on this world has brought me here to you deamon of mine enemy, i would ask to speak with you."

The voice echoed on several levels, and caused Gra'ksirra no small amount of head ache. Frowning from the reverberations in his mind, the Greater Daemon flapped it's huge wings leisurely, it's mighty pinions lifting the Daemons hunched body to it's full size, and with a flick of his wrist, multicoloured flame formed into his staff, it's wood cracked and ancient. Gra'ksirra, standing in at three times the size of the walking sarcophagi of the space marines, looked down disdainfully upon the marine. He was required here by the lord of this world, and that, he could make allowances for, but some upstart marine? Entering his chambers, and dismissing a very interesting playmate? He had no time for pleasantries.

"And what is it, pray, that you want?" squawked the daemon, raising his voice from it's usual low tempo to a more impressive, yet drier sound.

"Ellenar Fett, reporting for duty." Sha said, snapping to attention, "I was advised beforehand I may be needed as a tactical advisor"

"Well then Sgt." Anderson started

"Captain..." she corrected

"well then Captain, advise."

"it's my understanding that there was a raid, just as we landed, am I correct." She started, pointing at the northern sector of the map laid out on the table

"Yes, but how did you know, that information wouldn't be avalible to you yet" Anderson Piped up

"I have my ways, Now current reports show, so far, that this was an isolated incedent" Ellanor continued

"so far, but we can't be certain" somebody said, allowing her to continue

"so, you let the WHOLE northern front get destroyed, HOW?"

"you are not in a position to comment on that captain" Anderson spat at her "but please, continue"

"the only way this would work is if you can manage a multi-pronged attack, at least three sectors worth of men, covered by air and rolling barrages"

__________

OOC: i have more but i'll let the others mull that over, I think I have a creed wothy plan foring in my head

BIC:...

Rev'ex had taken Tyranics lead..and gone one step further.
He had indeed skinned the remaining Guardsmen...much to his extreme delight...then followed by eviscerating the three men,stretching their eternals away from the insides of their bodies,faning out to hanging hooks like grotesque party decorations.
Rev'ex smiled at his handiwork...delighting in the art he had created to accompany the beautiful music.
Rev'ex eagerly lapped at the crimson splatters across his taloned gauntlets,shivering in ecstasy,he begin to gently massage the contents of his decorative container into first one Guardsman's entrails then another...playing them as though they were the strings of some great blood soaked harp.
The screams of the guardsmen filled Rev'ex ears...more so..they caressed his very soul.

As the conversation between the Commissar Ezreal and this Captain Fett progresses, Nikev sat back in his chair with a emotionless look on his face, staring at the woman.

"The only way this would work is if you can manage a multi-pronged attack, at least three sectors worth of men, covered by air and rolling barrages" Spoke the female captain.

"Actually," Interrupted Nikev before she could continue, "I'm going to tell you how it works for quite a few reasons. Your going to leave here and going to forget whatever information you may have acquired until it is relayed to you through your superiors. Then, be sure not to try and assume a commanding role, especially around me Miss Captain." Nikev spoke the words captain in a mocking tone.

"I'll have you know," He rose from his seat and stood beside his desk, half sitting on the edge, "Strike one, you crashed a meeting of higher officers. Stirke two," He held up two fingers to emphasize his words, "you have acquired intelligence that was not authorized to be given to the soldiers by command." Nikev stood fully and glared into Captain Fett's eyes, " Strike three, I really don't like the idea of women in the Guard. So you can imagine how I feel when a woman who isn't even a higher rank tries to give me tactical advice or an order."

"Guard!" Nikev shouted, "Escort this woman out of here before I have her arrested."

party pooper

i'll remeber to 'forget' to save him if it comes up

FM Ninja 048 wrote:party pooper

i'll remeber to 'forget' to save him if it comes up

can't blame my character for being so lovable

Tyranic steps forwards and the glamour of slaanesh is dropped, Tyranics body isnt as beautiful as once thought, his head is open his brain pulsing slightly in the dim light, spines cover his back and along the outside rims of his arms scales grow, purple and mildly effervesant, his feet are hoofs and his legs have a reverse joint knee, "Your kind are supposed to know all that is around them, this means that you know how much damage i can do to you even speaking through this puppet, do you wish to have your powers rendered useless and your intellect stripped because of your insolence BIRD, I AM THE DARK PRINCE SPEAKING THROUGH THIS MORTAL ACCEPT THAT I WISH TO TALK AND LEAVE IT AT THAT!!! now if you would please sit down, your ruffled feathers do nothing for the decor of this room.

OOC: Is it ironic that I thought that you might be up to something God based? I really must be a greater Daemon...

I wonder if I can fly?!

BIC:...

Rev'ex gyrated madly ,praises to Slaanesh spilling from his lips as he coaxed the screams of the Guardsmen to a fever pitch.
" Mercy!!!" Shrieked one of the Guardsman " By the Emperor's soul...HAVE MERCY!!!"

Rev'ex paused,his claws inches from the mans eyes.." Mercy?'' Rev'ex hissed " You ask for mercy? when I bestow such honors upon you ."

" Please..stop.." The Guardsman shrieked " I'll tell you anything you wish to know...just make it stop."

Rev'ex puzzled over the Guardsman's plea as the other Guardsmen cursed their comrade as a traitor.

" Any thing I wish to know?" Rev'ex thought " Is there anything that I wish to know..."

@ ghosty

give it a try, what's the worst that can happen?

Waiting on nikev to respond to my pm.

Gra'ksirra chuckled deeply, his feathers rippling across his sinewy body in time with each shuddering laugh. Just as the daemon possessed marine drew back his great pincered hand to strike, The lord of changer suddenly raised a hand, a feathered hand, and shook his finger, a mirthful grin still on his face.

"Look to the walls, O' Prince. Look to the runes. Can you not see? These runes, are my runes. They are one with the everchanging. You cannot summon a daemon of Tzeentch with a rune of Slaanesh. You, are in My world, and will thus, shift to my accordance. You can no more strip me of my thoughts as I could tear the wings from Skarbrands mutilated back."

With that, Gra'ksirra let out a soft hooting, before he turned to look back at his quarry. No longer was there a manifestation of Slaanesh, but a simple marine.

"Now, what, do you want knowledge upon, Doomrider?"

OOC:...

Aha..power struggles amongst the forces of Chaos...very fitting.

(ic) looking to the walls tyranic nods carefully, i thought this may be the case, do you wish to be free deamon from these bounds?

(ic) "Im not going to give you a choice, these marines are dedicated to me, I will not have the powers of Tzeentch in these walls opposing me," From within his power armour he takes a small vial, and throws it on the walls, when it shatters veins of warpspawned tentacles spread over the walls dissolving them and eating the stone work, ignoring the sorcerous runes, eventually the rooms walls are no more and the tentacles are holding up the roof. "you are now free from the runic bindings deamon, the staff of the sorceror will no longer control you, it has lost its power.

Aid us now as restitution for this freedom."

OOC:..

I'm mulling over exactly what the tourtured Guardsman will tell Rev'ex...
The fact that they've been reinforced is no big secrete..and numbers and troop movements would be "Meh"...

I'm thinking something along the lines of "A plan for infiltration is being drawn against the Tower."

I'm...I'm free?

I'm finding that plain o' sorcerer lickity split so I can possess him!

FITZZ wrote: OOC:..

I'm mulling over exactly what the tourtured Guardsman will tell Rev'ex...
The fact that they've been reinforced is no big secrete..and numbers and troop movements would be "Meh"...

I'm thinking something along the lines of "A plan for infiltration is being drawn against the Tower."

How can a lone guardsmen know off a plan we haven't formulated yet?

That's a good point. Unless he was.... I dunno, a special imperial guardsmen, like a courier or something?

ghosty wrote:That's a good point. Unless he was.... I dunno, a special imperial guardsmen, like a courier or something?

one that can see the future? ... Heretics are among us!

Thinking of a way to help fitzz, even at the risk of backfiring in my face.

"your powers are now unbound as they should be deamon, revel in your power, but do so in combat with our enemy, or advising our generals, i respect your power servant of the god of change, use it wisely and with cunning, but be warned if you betray me I will force the bliss of oblivion upon you and your intellegence will be for naught." The Marine stumbles slightly, and looks up, calmly he looks around the room, the tentacles are pulsing slightly, nodding to the deamon he leaves, his bike is waiting.

sillyboy wrote:

ghosty wrote:That's a good point. Unless he was.... I dunno, a special imperial guardsmen, like a courier or something?

one that can see the future? ... Heretics are among us!

Thinking of a way to help fitzz, even at the risk of backfiring in my face.

Perhaps he was a courier...or perhaps due to the taint of Chaos...he just knows?

Meh, ok. Who am I to question the way of the chaos gods.

But promise me one thing: ....... Blood, lots of blood
The traitor diserves it.

sillyboy wrote:Meh, ok. Who am I to question the way of the chaos gods.

But promise me one thing: ....... Blood, lots of blood
The traitor diserves it.

Did i already told you , that i think you're awesome!

Too bad I will have to destroy you.

sillyboy wrote:Did i already told you , that i think you're awesome!

Too bad I will have to destroy you.

Likewise..

FITZZ wrote:

sillyboy wrote:Did i already told you , that i think you're awesome!

Too bad I will have to destroy you.

Likewise..

Que epic armageddon music.

-----------

Aargh i want to rp, but don't know if Nikev still wants to adress something at the meeting.
*sob*

(ooc) be calm silly boy, give nikev some time, youll get ur chance

Tyranic Marta wrote:(ooc) be calm silly boy, give nikev some time, youll get ur chance

Don't worry, i'm a chill dude (as my friends would say. They would also say that i'm lazy. but i prefere the first )
There isn't a gram of evil in me. Until you take my cookies. Nobody touches my cookies.

om nom nom....

(ic) As Tyranic descends the stairs from the deamons eyrie he hears screams coming from below, maybe his bike could wait, Re'vex makes such beautiful music.

BIC:...

Rev'ex leaned close to the skinned Guardsman,running his tongue lightly over his dripping cheek.
" And what could you possibly tell me that I'd be interested in?" Rev'ex hissed lowly.

" Even now...our Commanders draw plans to infiltrate these Towers!!" The Guardsman screamed .

" Traitor!!" Bellowed one of the bound Guardsman " Emperor curse you!!"

Rev'ex drew his bolt pistol and aimed it at the screaming mans skull,a delicate squeeze of the trigger and the Guardsman's head vaporized.

" Do continue." Rev'ex prompted the guardsman..

" Our Commanders fear the taint of Chaos" The Guardsman went on " Many of number have shown mutations...many...hear the call of the Cursed Gods."

Rev'ex face broke into a malicious grin " Indeed." he nodded " Most enlightening.."

" Now Kill me..you damnable creature!!" The Guardsman yelled " Kill me now!!"...

Rev'ex smilled..." Oh...you shall die my Brother...but...not for some time to come."

Rev'ex twisted his claws into the Guardsman's intestines prompting a blood curdling shriek.

" So...full of life" Rev'ex sighed.

(ic) Tyranic opens the door and walks into the room, ducking under the entrails strewn across the room he tapps Re'vex on the shoulder, "I was wondering if you were free for a spot of sport outside the walls, these petty guardsmen have grown complacent and weak, let us remind them who they are fighting."

BIC:...

Rev'ex turned to face Tyranic " Indeed " He hissed " I shall accompany you Tyranic."

Rev'ex lifted two small twisting tentacled orbs from his table and inserted them into the dripping cavities of the two remaining Guardsman's abdomens.

Both men began to shriek and twist.

Rev'ex smiled at his captives " Just a little gift to keep you both company in my absence ."

Rev'ex turned and followed Tyranic out of the lower chambers...sharing with him the knowledge he had received from the Guardsman.

question; i play a tainted commisar. And i was wondering about hearing the call of chaos.
(I've never read a 40k book or the chaos codexes.) Is the call literaly hearing, or is it more
like sensing it? Does it activly changes your mentality or do you need to give in to temptations?

(ic) As Tyranic and Re'vex gather some troops for a strike on the guardsmen Tyranic questions Re'vex about this startling new intellegence, eventually the pair agree that they will tell noone and will catch the spies out with their own cunning.

Driving out onto the plains witha squad of bikers and his two companions tyranic observes the screaming rhino following behind, nodding to the squad they loop around the back as they near the enemy lines in their familiar assaulting stance, once more the Skullscreamers will punish the guardsmen (western front)

@silly boy what happens is your mind slowly begins to think more chaosy thoughts and eventually you become fully fledged as a traitor, it however usually takes along time however sorcerors of chaos can accfelerate the change.

Or even a cranky old tzeentch Daemon...

ghosty wrote:Or even a cranky old tzeentch Daemon...

Especialy a cranky old Tzeentch Daemon.

BIC:...

Rev'ex howled with laughter as a group of Guardsmen open fire on his transport,their pitiful weapons doing little more then scorching the surface in small areas.
" Greet them!" Rev'ex hissed.
B'Kar emerged from the Rhinos top hatch and bathed the scrambling Guardsman in a stream of pinkish flame...bodies slowly dissolving as their screams filled the sky.
Rev'ex glanced through the viewport witnessing Tyranic gracefully behead a Commander of the Corpse God,
Rev'ex sighed " I do so enjoy watching him work."..

sillyboy wrote:question; i play a tainted commisar. And i was wondering about hearing the call of chaos.
(I've never read a 40k book or the chaos codexes.) Is the call literaly hearing, or is it more
like sensing it? Does it activly changes your mentality or do you need to give in to temptations?

Slaanesh is special in regards with the call of chaos, the Whispers of Slaanesh are a powerful form of temptation.

Its hearing but more like a voice you hear inside of your head telling you to do something or trying to cause you to doubt your current belief (ie changing from belief in the emperor to belief that the emperor is a corpse). It does not actively change your mentality, its a temptation or sometimes trickery to do something. If you've ever played Dawn of War soulstorm the whole chaos invasion was caused by an IG who gave into temptation and completed a chaos ritual. At least I think it was Soulstorm...


Doing so good so far guys, I'm planning an event for next week. This will be the first major event in the RP and don't worry, no one's going to die, except for maybe the sexist commissar...

Here's a teaser for you:

The Agrarian and The Prophet

In the meantime Nachos...could we maybe have another episode of " Evade the Commissar"..
I laughed so hard I think I may have ruptured something.

Tyranic s bike howls with joy as he rides through the promethium flames, his sword rippling with fire along its length, as he and his bikers lay waste to the enemy a low rumbling can be heard, Tyranic looks up and sees a column of tanks approaching, as he passes Re'vex he slows and points to the tanks, "they are ending our fun, we should depart before they open up"

BIC:...

Rev'ex nods in agreement with Tyranic ordering B'kar to return the Tower.
As the Rhino lumbers forth Rev'ex spies a wounded Guardsman limping for safety.
" Take Him B'kar" Rev'ex hissed.
The Rhino shudders to a stop and two hulking marines quickly exit the Vehicle snatching the Guardsman off his feet and dragging him kicking and screaming into the Rhino.
From the crest of a hill one of the Imperial tanks fires on the Rhino,but it's shell falls short.
The Rhino shakes from the impact of the blast and Rev'ex glares at the tank that dared fired upon him,marking it for a later time.
" Forward B'Kar" Rev'ex ordered " Return us to the Towers"
The transport sped away as the Imperial tanks lumbered forward...there prey escaping them.

The imperial tanks turn their attention to the bikers, who speed past the lumbering vehicles, yelling with laughter the bikers quickly leave the range of the tanks. Grinning Marta counts down in his head, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

Behind him the camp erupts with explosions as themelta bombs set by the bikers go off, creating an inferno that sweeps through the entire western front.

BIC:...

Rev'ex turns viewing the rising sea of fire behind his transport.
His delight can barely be contained as he witnesses the flames consume the remaining followers of the Corpse God in the camp.
Rev'ex gently runs his razor sharp claws over the cheek of the Guardsman that lays crumpled at his feet...delighting in how the flesh separates.
" Fear not little Brother" Rev'ex whispers " You shall burn as well."

Driving up beside the transport Marta taps on the view port on the side of the vehicle, when it is opened he speaks in his low bass. "I will meet you back at the base Re'vex, i have some business to attend to in my quaters."

BIC:....

Rev'ex nods at Tyranic " I shall await your return" he Said with a hiss " Remember...the information gathered from the Follower of the Corpse God is our alone."
Tyranic nodded roaring away on his bike...

Rev'ex Picked the Guardsman up from the floor of the Rhino " Now my Brother...You shall partake in my desires"
The dead eyes stared blankly at Rev'ex and the Tormentor of Slaanesh tilted his head ...puzzled until he saw the vial of poison slip from the Guardsman's fingers.
" Such a waste" Rev'ex muttered with disgust tossing the deadman to the floor of his transport.
B;kar informed Rev'ex they were approaching the Tower and Rev'ex nodded ...his jubilation slightly blunted by having his new acquisition rob him of future ecstasy.

Welcome to another episode of "Evade the Commissar" with your host Ian Fletcher!

"Thank you Edna and welcome to another episode of Evade the Commissar where running from the law pays! We welcome our new contestants Specialist Albert Green, Private Gordon Fremen, and our once again returning champion Sergeant "I grew up on Catacha" Reeves!"

"Good to be here Ian."

"Who are you?"

"Private Gordon..."

"Yeah, I'll talk to you when you win loser. Alrighty then, while we set up our contestants why don't you folks enjoy this paid advertisement."

"Bored? Tired? Can't get it up? Call 1-800-555-6969 tonight! Our paid associates can meet your every desire whether its pretending to be Doomrider ravaging an attractive maiden or a Canoness 'amusing' herself with a heretic. We have everything your heart and sexually deviant soul desires, call us today. That's 1-800-555-6969, 1-800-555-6969."

"Yeah, two of them with whips and jalapenos... I uh, I mean welcome back to the show! Our contestants are prepared to take on the labrynth and the sneaky Commissar. On your mark, get set, EVADE!"

"You forgot the rules Ian."

"Oh silly Edna, it looks like you didn't learn the first time... Look at Albert he's trying to hide in the rafters, the Commissar's birthday is today so we have a cake set out for him and we forgot the pinata so we'll have to thank Albert for finishing our decorations. It also looks like Gordon found a weapon to use against the Commissar, its a crowbar, does he think he's fighting zombies or something!"

"Great reference Ian!"

"Thank you Edna, but you're still going to get it. It seems that the Commissar has found Albert and is taking pot shots at the ceiling, can Albert hold on? Annnnnnd the answer is no! Our next question now answered, Albert cannot fly but he sure can make a splat! Gordon heard the Commissar and is sneaking up on him, but spies the cake. Gordon is smashing the cake in spite! The Commissar hears this and is not too happy about it."

"Looks like this game wasn't a piece of cake after all."

"Edna, really?"

"I'm already in the hole."

"Oh you have no idea... the Commissar and Gordon are going at it, the Commissar has tossed his bolt pistol to the side and challenged Gordon to a fist fight. Gordon puts his crow bar down and fisticuffs is about to ensue. The Commissar dodges a left hook and plants an uppercut, unleashing a gout of flame from his wrist mounted flamer, talk about packing heat! Hahahaha!"

"But where's Reeves?"

"He's probably in the Commissar's hat again or under the table the cake was on. Wait, Gordon's body is twitching, careful Commissar we don't know what's in there...and a Ripper pops out only to be beheaded by the Commissar, looks like he caught a bug before entering the show."

"Another zinger sir."

"Thanks Ed, I mean Edna. But wait, now the Ripper's body is twitching, I bet you Reeve's was in the Ripper the entire time, how droll. Wait, its just death spasms then that means Reeves is still missing wait a second...Reeves was the Commissar the entire time! GOOD PLAY, GOOD PLAY!"

"I haven't seen so much stuffing since last Emperor'sgiving Ian."

"I haven't seen so much Amasec and scantilly clad women since last Emperor'sgiving, oh wait I did, yesterday because I'm a success Edna, I don't make stupid comments Edna, get a life Edna! And Sergeant Reeves how are you?"

"Never been better Ian, never been better."

"What made you think about dressing up as the Commissar? His clothing options aren't very flattering you know."

"Well its was his birthday so I wanted to do something nice for him so I got him a cake but that feth head messed it up and it broke the Commissar's heart so I took his clothes and finished the game for him."

"Wow, a man of steel with a heart of gold. Look the Commissar is in the maze crying after all, don't worry Commissar we'll get you another cake with sprinkles too! Tell the man what he's won Edna!"

"Sergeant Reeves, you've won an Adeptus Mechanicus sanctioned 80" television, Adeptus Mechanicus; or else its heresy. The grand prize also includes a kick ass surround sound system, a gaming system, and all you can watch Food Channel access. That's right the Food Channel; showing you good food you can't have since M40.311!"

"Thanks Edna, hey what happened to Ed?"

"Nothing happened to Ed, he's on vacation. Thank you for playing Reeves, and thank you for watching my loyal audience. Remember, if it smells like snake oil, sneaks like a rat, and wears a hat two times its own height it just might be a midget wearing a commissar's hat or a really short commissar either way its bad for your health!"

There, but now player fatality chances just increased to 50%.

oooh ouch thats gotta hurt (flamer)

(bic) As his bike nears the fortress a ramp extends from one of the upper floors, Tyranic zooms up the ramp and into his bikes burst chamber. Locking the vehicle into its burst pod he and his allies head back to the Halls of Noise, Once there he farewells his comrades and heads to his own quarters. For the most dedicated servant of Slaanesh on the planet the room seems sparse and unfurnished, however upon looking at the walls lesser men are entranced by the shifting patterns of greed, lust, anger, and other base emotions flowing in glorious relief, however the reliefs are all in the same colour as he stone, even thought the surface of the walls constanty shift to hold more images the walls are still perfect in form.

Walking to his bed the great marine begins to remove his power armour, piece by piece the intricatly molded shapes are placed on a shelf, no two pieces the same yet still affording incredible ranges of movement to all his limbs, one the pieces are of his body the glamour of Slaanesh is removed from them and the unorthodox knee pads and lightly armoured arms are perfect for his unglamoured form. When he is fully unarmoured he rubbs the musk scent of a Keeper of secrets over his body, the source of his soporific power on his foes, it never fails, even rebreathers are innefectual against the warp oils.

@ Nachos...

Bro...I fething love your sense of humour...in fact if you was a womans I'd pitch woo at you..

"Sir, the archenemy is increasing the number of their raids. We have lost troops and armor to wandering forces." Gregor's adjutant handed the report to him and then took a step back as Gregor took a sip of caffeine from his mug while reading the report.

"I want to step up artillery support, if the front so much as sees dust I want shells on them immediately. Any tanker who doesn't fire at least three shots will have to deal with Brent and I." Gregor put his mug down and wiped his face to think, "Did you assemble the pilots I told you to?"

"Yes sir, they're waiting in the field mounted right now." Gregor's adjutant said before being waved off by Gregor.

In the fields Brent was giving last rights to the pilots and commending them for their actions in case they died in flight. The pilots were all suited up and climbed into their Lightning fighters, they would have a limited air strip to take off and then fly into the heart of the archenemy's anti aircraft. The Fluvians left at the HQ saluted them as they taxied and began takeoff procedures. Soon enough they were flying south before they would turn around to head towards the Tall Towers.
................

"Adept 1 to Adept flight, ready to pull a 180 and head towards the target."

"Rodger." Adept flight responded in unison as they pulled into the darkened sky and sped towards the Tall Towers. The bastion came into view quickly as the Lightnings launched their payload at the towers. Hydra's spat at them in retaliation and score two out of five of the Lightnings, a third sped towards the command tower in an attempt to kamikaze into it but a purple orb deflected it and caused the Lightning to corkscrew in the air before hitting an antennae and shearing off its wing. The fighter exploded shortly after when its fuel source ignited. The remaining two fighters sped towards friendly airspace before returning to the base camp.

Gregor was there to meet the survivors and watched the two fighters land awkwardly on the makeshift strip. The pilots got out and hugged each other while smiling before walking towards Gregor.

"How did it go?" Gregor asked while matching their pace.

"Direct hit." one of the pilots said smiling.

The smoke was still clearing as slaves ran around collecting damage records, the missiles pock marked the cement casing of the command tower and nothing more they reported happily to Kelthad. Their attack had failed the reports stated.

"Fools." Kelthad thought to himself happily, "Thought they could ram one of their fighters into my tower, how wrong they were."

If I'm correct...Nucian's have been deployed to all fronts? or are Nucian forces strickly in the south?

Of course when I say Nucian, I don't mean the regiment Nikev is with, more or less other parts of the army.

(ic) as the fighters stuck Tyranic was re putting on his armour, once finished he sprinted to the wreckage and saw several crews arounf the fightr distangling it from the wreckage, after hearing a report of the fly by, Tyranics thoughts strayed to the fact that none of the fighters fired a shot, "Find the pilot, if he is still alive i want to take him to Re'vex for questioning, the rest of you get this thing warp-desintegrated on the soonest out tide of the wap gate, i want this thing gone, we dont know what the guardsmen have placed in its chassis

I sense that bombing run was more sinister than meets the eye....

BIC:...

Rev'ex had disembarked from his transport,kicking the body of the dead Guardsman like a rag doll as he strolled down the Rhinos ramp.
He turned to B'kar " Get rid of that...waste" Rev'ex spat " I shall be in my chambers."
Rev'ex descended the staircase and entered the lower chambers,there he found the two Guardsmen he'd left...and completely forgotten about,still shrieking in agony.
" Ahhh" Rev'ex said,his smile returning " My Little ones.."

As Rev'ex advanced,he heard the roar of the Imperial Aircraft and the explosions of their missiles.

Rev'ex glanced in the direction of the noise " Seems we have guest." he hissed.

Commissar NIkev wrote:If I'm correct...Nucian's have been deployed to all fronts? or are Nucian forces strickly in the south?

Of course when I say Nucian, I don't mean the regiment Nikev is with, more or less other parts of the army.

You are correct, the Nucians are on all fronts but have control of the Eastern and Northern fronts. The main bulk of their front line troops are located on those two fronts, some squads were sent to the Western and Eastern fronts as reinforcement. All specialists and command units are in the HQ area still, so that means stormtroopers/infiltrators, and commanders.

Before Nikev could continue scolding the female captain that interrupted his meeting, a knock came from the door. "Enter." Nikev said, annoyance clear in his voice. The servant girl from earlier stepped inside, "Sir, Command is posting you on your patroling duties immediately, most of the other Nucian Commissar's were sent to the front and they are posting all other Commissars on extra patrol duty." "Thank you Anzodine. I'll presume my post immediately." The servant girl turned and left.

"If you'll all excuse me." Nikev said as he grabbed his essentials for his Commissriat duties. "Your own command will probably call for your services as well." Nikev looked to the woman, "I suggest we not have what happened here occur again." He then proceeded to turn and leave.

Exiting the room, Nikev placed his fingers in his mouth as earlier and called for his dear friend Manodire. Running to his master, he ran around in a few circles before stopping by his side. "Time to patrol dear companion."

As the duo patrolled, they looked for the usual things when dealing with chaos; heretical behaviour, heretical acts, or anything that could be related to heretical. Everything was running without a hitch as Nikev and Manodire patrolled the Nucian camp searching for heresy of any kind.


(I'll figure something to happen......I had a few Ideas but they feel odd at the moment.)

halonachos wrote:

Commissar NIkev wrote:If I'm correct...Nucian's have been deployed to all fronts? or are Nucian forces strickly in the south?

Of course when I say Nucian, I don't mean the regiment Nikev is with, more or less other parts of the army.

You are correct, the Nucians are on all fronts but have control of the Eastern and Northern fronts. The main bulk of their front line troops are located on those two fronts, some squads were sent to the Western and Eastern fronts as reinforcement. All specialists and command units are in the HQ area still, so that means stormtroopers/infiltrators, and commanders.

Thanks for that.

Commissar NIkev wrote:
(I'll figure something to happen......I had a few Ideas but they feel odd at the moment.)

PM me and we'll see.

OOC: I'm slightly disappointed that fresh tank column Grunthin escorted to the Western front didn't manage to take out a rhino and a few bikes

Silver, that's Nucians for you, they can't tell their arse from their nipples.

IC: Gra'ksirra felt the echoes of missile shaking the fortress defences. However, from this deep within the inner sanctum, he was untouchable by explosion or by fire. Sighing to himself, Gra'ksirra scooped up the chess pieces, placed them firmly into his bag, and then, with care, hobbled across the chamber to the hydrolic lift. A pair of Sorcerers burst into the chamber, looks of genuine panic reverberating from their unmasked faces. Gra'ksirra smiled a crooked crows grin, and waved his hand, feeling the energy flowing deeply through the chamber, the stench of ozone becoming palatable in the atmosphere. The energies of the warp were strong. The first Sorcerer, a decadent marine of excess he had spied earlier, brought his staff in front of him, and began to advance, apparently safe in the knowledge that the Daemon was bound to the chamber, and could not fight back. How wrong he was.

Uttering a multisyllabic word lost in the variable's of time, Gra'ksirra then pointed an elongated finger at the sorcerer. At first, no visible change seemed to occur, apart from the sudden stop that Slaanesh worshipper came to. However, as the seconds rolled by, it was obvious something was wrong. A thin tentacle the colour of flayed skin slipped out of the Marines nostril, and curled decadently around the mans upper lip. The armour came apart at the seems, with a sense of inevitability, the body it was encasing no longer able to support it's own armour. As plates of carapace slipped away, a writhing mass of fleshy limbs burst forth from every gap, and a hundred of tiny maws opened their mouths and screamed in agony. The second sorcerer watched in horror as his brother was reduced to a mewling pile of flesh and bone, somehow still alive despite the warping effects straining his body.

"By the great gods..." he murmured in terror.

(i thought i asked you not to go on a rampage gosty, you are still chaos after all)

(IC) As the last of the debris is cleared out of the way Tyranic takes each heritic who participated in the cleanup to the northern tower at dawn.

He made his usual prayer to Slaanesh and also tat the Heritics would be cleansed of their troubles, at the end of the ceremony Tyranic is again lifted into the air, but so are the other heritics, and on the ledge instead of just one new clone, there were 23, as the origionals drop out of sight Tyranic turns to his new advocates, "You will tell none of what you have seen here, you will aid me in any way i wish, and now you will make my sacrifice more potent every morning by joining me in death."

I'm a daemon, whose got a mean streak a mile long, and I've been couped up in a cold room, and I've been bullied by worshippers of Slaanesh, and and, And no one played chess with me!

FITZZ wrote: @ Nachos...

Bro...I fething love your sense of humour...in fact if you was a womans I'd pitch woo at you..

Ewww, pitching woo just sounds wrong on so many levels.

Any woo, I'm working on the event for you guys. So far its coming along swimmingly and I will post it on Monday, you guys just RP to your hearts content while I look over my anatomy and german for some upcoming tests. Even though I am supposed to be studying, I will monitor the RP just not as much as I have been.

@ Marta, the fighters fired their missiles and the pilots are deadsies. Two were shot down and didn't bother ejecting the third blew up in the sky, so no survivors for you to question. Muahahahaha!

OOC:...

Awww..no survivors??...well there goes my idea for my next RP.

You can play with the wreckage, find a throttle sitting around somewhere and pretend to fly a lightning.

halonachos wrote:You can play with the wreckage, find a throttle sitting around somewhere and pretend to fly a lightning.

" Rev'ex the Insatiable....Terror of the skies!! VVVRROOOMMM!!"

(OOC: What to do, what to do... so many choices, so little time.....
Need to create a new character, while writing this rhyme....
Should I be a humble berserker, or a most hated mime?
Whatever my choice, your character's souls shall...be...mine!)

The fact you wrote a rhyme makes me want to analyse the crap out of it. /rage

You sohould play as a Tzeench mime, just because you bothered to rhyme that

BIC:...

Ezreal walked outside, Anderson walking besides him. "How dare you treat me like that!" He spat
at Ezreal. "I am Lorec Anderson the seventh son of the king." "No, you are not." Ezreal replied.
"You're a commissar in the Fluvian regiment and i'm your senior Commissar. You will obey me."
Anderson was filled with rage. he ignored what Ezreal said an continued his rant.

"Embarrasing me in front of Commissar Nikev and that ignorant little brat." Anderson took
a big breath and tried to continued. But ezreal slapped him in the face, immediatly gaining his
attention. "You will show respect for your fellow brothers Anderson. And you will keep your
poisoned tongue shut. Or i will personally cut it out. Do you understand."

Anderson was gobsmacked. It was the first time in his live that he did not get what he wanted.
He was even threatened and punched in the face. He tried to puzzle out how to react.
"We are finished here, Anderson" Ezreal said looking at the guardsmen gazing at them.
It wouldn't take long for this to go around camp. "Take a look at the situation at the western
front. Inform me when you get back."

Ezreal abruptly walked away from him. His feet pounding hard in the mud. "The ignorant fool."
he tought. He had to restrain himself for walking back at Anderson and beat him up.
Ezreal didn't know where to go. But his feet started walking towards his hill. It was a good place
to think.

He slowly walked onto the hill, looking at the fortress. It seemed that it was shaking.
Ezreal stopped dead in his tracks suspicously observing the fortress. The shaing seemed to get worse.
Great dents started to appear in the ancient walls of plas-steel. The tall tower came dow in a shower
of dust and debry. A large shadowy figure appeared in the large dustcloud. The shadow lifted itself up.

Pure white wings pierced through the cloud. The sun heavely reflecting in his wings.
The rest of the creature followed soon. Ezreal was nailed to the floor as he stared at the magnificent creature.
Its feathered head turning in all directions. The movent of his head sent a ripple of colours down his feathers.
It seemed to look for something. The creature hissed as his search failed.

"Commissar Ezreal?" a soft voice said behind him. It was enough to brake his concentration. he looked
besides him. Ellanor was standing right next to him. "Everything alright commissar." Ezreal looked back at the fortress
but everything was still the same. Everything he saw wasn't there anymore.

ghosty wrote:The fact you wrote a rhyme makes me want to analyse the crap out of it. /rage

Don't go too deep with it... only took 2 min to write it.

FM Ninja 048 wrote:You sohould play as a Tzeench mime, just because you bothered to rhyme that

So... you want me to be an Eldar Harlequin?

The fact that you rhymed it has upset me... the fact that you rhymed it in two minutes makes me far more angry. Make your character so I can kill him/her/it.

halonachos wrote:The fact that you rhymed it has upset me... the fact that you rhymed it in two minutes makes me far more angry. Make your character so I can kill him/her/it.

Will have him/her/it after class tonight.

Anyhoo....

(BIC..)

Tyranic, his new advocates and his friends clear the blood with supplications to Slaanesh, after this he equips his Advocates with elite armour and weaponry, making them his own personal guards, all of them dont the eternally flaming skullhelms of the Skullscreamer chosen.

BIC:...

Rev'ex tilted his head in the direction of the explosions and chatter of Flak guns up above.
"Seem we have company" He hissed.
Turning for the chamber door,Rev'exs attention fell upon a new sound...one of his captives begin to utter a strange guttural noise...

Rev'ex frowned attempting to determine if he found the new song pleaseing...he concluded that he did not.

Approaching the bound Guardsmen Rev'ex saw that it was his "Informative" little brother who was making the gurgling noises...upon further inspection Rev'ex discovered why...the man,in the throws of wondrous agony,had eaten his own tongue.

Rev'ex frowned,this was most displeasing to him....the man had been such a fine instrument...his songs raptures to the ear.

" Pity" Rev'ex said pushing his clawed gauntlet into the squirming mans chest and gripping his heart " It would have been my pleasure to continue your song..." with that Rev'ex wrenched the mans heart from his body.

" Such a waste." Rev'ex said tossing the organ aside,he turned and glared at the last surviving Guardsman .." And you bore me" Rev'ex hissed drawing his bolt pistol and firing a single shot into the mans head,destroying it completely.

Rev'ex shook for a moment ,a deep anger sweeping over him...only to be replaced by bitter melancholy.

" Perhaps." Rev'ex thought to himself " I may discover new play things in the higher chambers."

Rev'ex exited his chambers and ascended the stairs.

Nikev had been patrolling the grounds for a decent amount of time now. He could see that already this war was taking effect on the Nucians. Not even one week in and they had already suffered losses and at times, some of the soldiers said they could hear terrible screaming coming from the tower. Most of the Nucian's that had been brought on this campaign where fresh-coats and had yet to taste true battle. Nikev had no real experience with the enemy here either, the most problems his regiment had to deal with were small bands of rebels, bandits, or a few crime-lord empires.

Walking through the barracks of the Lion's Pride, Nikev could feel the fear in the air. As people passed, they either had a terrified zoned look in their face or they hurried about nervously.

As Nikev reached the center most of the barracks, he could see the most reason for the fear and sorrow. Body bags laid strew out across the ground, trailing all the way back to medicae building.

Nikev approached a few of the medicae staff working on finding the I.D. of a body bag, Manodire lagging behind him a few paces, his head held low. "Excuse me." Nikev called the attention of one of the men who turned to address him. "Commissar," He greeted, "What can I do for you?" "Why are all these bodies piled here? Why aren't they back at their regiments medicae?" The Medicae's face dropped in a more saddened expression as he looked around at the rest of the bodies, "These men were all the Pride of the Lion." He said without turning back around, "We were the first to drop and the first to reinforce the Fluvians before the arch-enemy attacked." He turned around and faced Nikev, "Something you may want to check though is the barracks. They have taken this the worst as they had to see their friends and family killed or taken from them. But if you'll excuse me, We really have to finish with this work."

The medicae worker left Nikev and went back to the other workers. Nikev turned and began walking toward the barracks. Manodire falling in step by his side, his head still laying low.

Tyranic looks at his new warriors, their flaming skulls making a stark contrast to the darkness of the midlevel darkness of the burst chambers, turning, he turns on the lights with his helmet controls, the lights flicker into extreme brightness, what would usually blind the men before him, even other marines, however the skullhelms of the Chosen had properties that resisted extreme radiative light, and allowed the men to see perfectly in any conditions.

Lined up before each man is a burst chamber, and the Screamingskulls, the 29 most powerful and deadly bikes in the possession of the Skullscreamer legion, these bikes, along with Marta's, are the only bikes to incorporate plasma guns instead of twin linked bolters, and these weapons are externally cooled, preventing the usual overheating of the handheld variety.

Three of the bikes are claimed, those of Marta and his two companions, when the tree rode they were named the consorts of chaos, as they always carried the banner of pure torment with them. 5 of the bikes are to be left for the last members of Tyranics biker legion, when it is ready, it will terrorize the entire plains from the hills of chaos to the steppes of eternal torment.

22 of the bikes now recieve a rider for the first time, Tyranic and his companions take their own bikes and begin to activgate the burst cahmbers, when all the bikers are settled into place, Tyranic fires the mechanism.

The guardsmen surrounding the fortress see an entire central section of the fortress rotate on a central pivot, a ring of stone swiveling around, when it finally grinds to a halt 25 small openings can be seen in the front face.

The guardsmen load their weapons and prepare for the worst, but they no not how bad the assault on their minds will be.

Suddenly several bursts of sound can be heard, rippling cracks that echo over the plains, and from the openings can be seen many flying objects, those with veiwfinders can see the sihouette of the consorts of chaos in the fore.

The guardsmen yell in terror as plasma bursts fall among them, rippling through the ranks, wrecking vehicles and scorching guardsmen where they stand, then the bikers are among them.

The sudden impacts of the bikes hitting ground do little to dissuade the Chosen of the Herald as they rush trough the massed infantry, most of the enemies tanks wrecked by the plasma bursts from on high, the few left are quickly dealt with by melta bombs.

In 2 short bloody minutes the guardsmen of the eastern front have a massive gaping wound torn in their force and before they know it the bikers are gone, howling with delight as they take grisly trophies back to their fortress.

OOC:...

The following RP takes place prior to Tyranics attack on the Eastern Front...this RP,combined with Tyranics raid will encompsie the beginnings of a bit of fun for the Imperials.

BIC:...

As Rev'ex accened the stairway and grand scheme entered his mind,an epiphany from his god surely...
Rev'ex uttered a delerious laugh of pure bliss as the visions danced before his eyes..." Of course." he whispered before charging up the stairway in search of Tyranic.
Upon finding the Herald,Rev'ex revealed his scheme to Tyranic, who joined in Rev'exs laughter with his own booming bass chuckles.
" So simple..yet so inspired" Tyranic said " Yes exalted tormentor...It will indeed be my pleasure to aid you."
" I require several...playthings mighty doomrider..given your swiftness in attack..their acquisition should be a simple matter for you."
" Consider it done Rev'ex" Tyranic said " I shall lead a strike against the worshipers of the False Emperor shortly."
"Excellent." Rev'ex hissed " I shall make preparations to receive our...guest and await your return...for the glory of Slaanesh."
" For the delights of the Dark Prince" Tyranic boomed in his deep bass voice.
The Doom Rider turned to ready his forces as Rev'ex howled delighted laughter.

BIC:...

Ezreal stood on his hill. Not believing that what he had seen was just a trick of
his mind. It seemed so real. "Commissar?" Ellanor carefully asked, not wanting to
upset him. "Everything is alright." he said tearing his eyes of the castle.
"What do you want?... Is it about the meeting?" Ellanor nodded. "Well, let me apologies
for my fellow commissar. He still needs to learn things, but he is as stubborn as a mule"

She smiled "Accepted... but i would like to talk to you about the attack that will shortly commence."
"What about it?" Ezreal asked, not sure where she was going with this. "Well the attack would
be an prime opportunity to get my men in unseen. And cause some mayhem." Ezreal tought
about it for some time. He didn't see any problems.

"Permission granted, captain." "Thank you for this opportunity commissar." It was Ezreals
turn to nod. "I hope you will make me proud. You have three hours to prepare."
Ellanor salluted. And started to head towards her crew. She didn't know why. But she wanted
to prove herself to Ezreal. The exiled hero of the ministorum. She looked after her shoulder
at the commissar. His body betraying the man he once was. She felt sorry for him.

Ezreal looked back at the black fortress. Wondering what the magical flying thunderbird meant.
He felt himself pulled towards it. The feeling dissapeared as soon as he noticed it. At the bottom
of the walls the damned bikers appeared. There were more then three this time. Anderson was there
for the moment. He hoped the traitors did him a favor.
________

Anderson layed in the muddy crater. Those bikers had appeared out of nowhere. He couldn't believe
the speed by wich they spread their mayhem. The roaring engines threw away each sound, but theirs.
Anderson feeled his body shaking. This was the first time he had the opportunity to meet the enemy.
But his nerves had broken. He had fled his combatgroup ignoring their screams.

He looked behind him. Chimera's where thundering his way. The multilasers tracking the bikers.
The bikes were heading back carrying several guardsmen with them. A chimera stopped next to his crater.
Anderson quickly jumped out, not wanting his lessers to see him like this. An infantry squad barged out, weapons ready.
"Forwards! for the Emperor!" Anderson bravely yelled as he jumped out his crater.

The guardsmen saw the heroic commissar charging after the fleeing bikes. They yelled warcry's as they followed the
brave commissar. "He must be great." they tought "surviving the brutal attack and making the traitors run.
Anderson leveled his bolt pistol on one of the drivers carrying a guardsmen. The pistol spoke with red hot flashes.
It took him a full clip to finaly hit the traitor in the head. The bike spint out of control, until it got stuck in another crater.
It was a lucky hit, but he would never admit that as he looked behind him. Many guardsmen cheering him on.

He quickly closed the distance to the bike, the captured guardsmen laying beneath it. Blood
bubling out of his mouth. "Why?" he whispered. "Why.... did you run?" His eyes tried to focus on the commissar.
Anderson looked at the wounded guardsmen, he wanted to apologies. He couldn't say the words. His comrades
came closer. Wanting to help the poor man. Anderson reloaded and shot the men in the head. No one would
stand in his way to glory and hounour. Anderson pulled a fake smile on his face as
the guardsmen surrounded him, wanting to congratulate the great commisar. "the terror of slaanesh" they called him.

OOC: i killed one of your converted slaves, tyranic. First blood for the Fluvians!

Also time to munt an offensive, we will bring the pain to the traitors. We will attack at the eastern front.
If anyone wants to join the attack. Then Rp you joining up with the troops.

BIC:...

Rev'ex,along with B'Kar and several other Marines under his command met Tyranic as he and his men returned to the Tower.
" Here are the prizes you requested Tormentor" Tyranic said,his minions tossing the Guardsmen to the stone floor.
" Excellent Great Herald..most excellent" Rev'ex hissed " B'Kar...take these...vesels...to my chambers..I shall attend to them briefly."
" Yes my Commander" B'Kar said as he and the other Marines hauled the protesting Guardsmen from the floor and carried them away.
" My deepest appreciation to you Tyranic"Rev'ex said with a slight bow " With the...gifts you have provided..I shall bestow the joys of our Master upon the followers of the Corpse God."
" My Pleasure to aid you Tormentor" Tyranic said with a small bow " An even greater pleasure to follow for those who folow the False Emperor" Tyranic laughed.

"Indeed my friend.." Rev'ex hissed "Indeed."

Name: Maximilian the Unbound
Rank: Aspiring (Skull) Terminator Champion
Age: Unknown
Sex: Male
Affiliation: Khorne/World Eaters
Appearance outside of TDA:
Hair: Long flowing black with wisps of Grey
Eyes: Forrest Green
Face: Scar running vertical over left eye which is cloudy, dark facial stubble.
Build: Pure Beefcake
Body Art: Icon of Khorne across the entire length of his back with various scars crossing it from old battlefield injuries
Height: 7'2''
Weight: 257 Lbs

TDA:
Still painted in the now faded colors of the pre-heresy World Eaters. (White base with blue shoulder pads and blue knee caps with World Eater logo on on one shoulder and knee pad)
Mk III Helm Modified to look like a human skull
Mk III Suit Modified to hold an extended internal magazine of primary ammunition thus solving the problem of reloading with a Chain Fist. Mag connected to weapon via external ammo chute.

Equipment:
MkIII "Iron" Tactical Dreadnought Armor
Twin Linked Bolter with chain-Bayonet and linked rounds via attached internal suit mag modified into it.
Duel Bladed Chain Fist
Icon Of Khorne
(The above is codex legal, The below is added for fluffy RP goodness)
Collar of Khorne
Inferno Ammunition
Heavy Flamer built into palm of Chain Fist
(What can I say, He likes to watch people burn a slow death. It also leaves his victims skulls intact for collection later)

Background:

-=Record Classified: Retrieval Fail=-


-=(Feedback Welcome before I start Role Playing with him)=-

OOC:...

Personally I like it jp,...we just need to figure out a reason a World Eater Terminator is amongst Slaanesh forces...but then again...a Berserker goes were the killing is...so I would suppose that's justification enough.

FITZZ wrote: OOC:...

Personally I like it jp,...we just need to figure out a reason a World Eater Terminator is amongst Slaanesh forces...but then again...a Berserker goes were the killing is...so I would suppose that's justification enough.

Pretty much my train of thought on the subject. Khorne wouldn't let a good slaughter go by without sending in at least a few of his forces to aid in the... Chaos.

jp400 wrote:

FITZZ wrote: OOC:...

Personally I like it jp,...we just need to figure out a reason a World Eater Terminator is amongst Slaanesh forces...but then again...a Berserker goes were the killing is...so I would suppose that's justification enough.

Pretty much my train of thought on the subject. Khorne wouldn't let a good slaughter go by without sending in at least a few of his forces to aid in the... Chaos.

Yes...and I'm sure that the Slaanesh Marines could find watching a berserker squad slaughter Guardsmen quite exhilarating.

FITZZ wrote:

jp400 wrote:

FITZZ wrote: OOC:...

Personally I like it jp,...we just need to figure out a reason a World Eater Terminator is amongst Slaanesh forces...but then again...a Berserker goes were the killing is...so I would suppose that's justification enough.

Pretty much my train of thought on the subject. Khorne wouldn't let a good slaughter go by without sending in at least a few of his forces to aid in the... Chaos.

Yes...and I'm sure that the Slaanesh Marines could find watching a berserker squad slaughter Guardsmen quite exhilarating.

Indeed.

Actually, just had a stroke of pure, epic, awesomeness! Time to Rp my Intro and explain why I am here.

Maximilian the Unbound sighed ill contempt inside the cramped yet all to familiar confines of his now ancient suit of armor. Sitting around him in the darkness that was the holding area of a dread claw were about a dozen unwashed and unwanted Red Corsairs, Space Marines from various chapters who just recently turned to the promise and allure of the dark gods and revoked their oaths to the false corpse god of mankind.

These insufferable meat bags were his war bands latest batch of hopefuls looking to enlist into the hallowed and ancient ranks of the World Eaters and gain Khorne's blessing. The Planet below, Netat, was some back water agri-world that Maximilian couldn't give two gaks less about that would serve as these hopefuls proving grounds.

As an aspiring champion trying to further prove his worth, he was elected to supervise these hopefuls as they progressed and grade them on their possible value and worth once planet side.

The trial was simple, yet bloody. Survive this "war" and prove your worth before the all powerful Khorne. The ten recruits who provided the most skulls for the brass throne would be inducted, the rest executed for their incompetency. His god cared not where the blood came from, so long as it flowed.

Maximilian smiled under his gleaming white skull mask at this thought, the blood lust already starting to build inside him.

Suddenly the dread claw lurched forward as it was shot from the Chaos Battle cruiser that had moments before dropped out of warp space and entered a holding pattern above the planet. Several more dread claws join suit and soon like comets they blazed across the sky as they fell through the atmosphere toward the planet below.

Maximilian uttered a simple prayer to Khorne as he prepared for planet strike.