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The hound dragged her down another corridor. By now her foot was covered in slobber, but unervingly it seemed to be intent of not hurting her. She kicked it hard in the face again, causing it to pause, blink, and then carry on. Ripples shoved another shell into her boarding shotgun, and, slowly pumping the gun she aimed. A metal boot slammed hard down onto her arm, pinning her in place. She gasped in pain and felt her arm break. Looking up into the darkness around her, she realised she'd been dragged into a small antechambre. A group of dark smudges in the shadows surrounded her. She looked back at the boot on her arm, and drew her combat knife from its sheath with her other hand. A gauntletted hand reached down, and carefully clasped her forearm. It squeezed. The pain was unbearable and she dropped the knife. The figure pinning her down loomed in close, and she stared into they insane eyes of a man garbed in rusted iron and blood red fatigues. On its scarred face was a horrible grotesque. The figure looked deep into her eyes, and she lost consciousness.

OOC: over to you brotherstynier

Another scream rang out, echoing throughout the halls. Godric quickened his pace. He would not leave anyone here alone, not when he'd spent what seemed like an eternity on this ship...no one to talk to him...and no one to talk to.

He would leave no one alone...

OOC: This looks....intriguing.....

Vors, warrior of the blood pact, snarled as he lanced his bayonet through the chest of an oncoming guardsmen. The puny warrior of the corpse god screamed in pain as the blade erupted from his pack, the still-beating heart impaled upon it. Kickng the limp body of his weapon uncermoniously, Vors roared in triumph as the remnants of the puny guardsmen squad fell back into the dark. Curbing his desire to follow them, Vors spun around quickly as he felt a looming shadow on his back. It was Navarre, the squad leader.
Dropping to one knee, Vors intoned "Weakling enemies slaughtered in the name of the Brass king, lord. Would you have us persue them?" Navarre was silent for a moment, with the look of a man deep in thought, before replying "No, not yet. The time is soon, but for now I have other plans. We have captured a pathetic foe in the southern quarter. I want you to interogate her, find out why the Imperials are here. Then....I want you to kill her"
A gruesome smile broke out on Vors face. "It shall be done, sir".

OOC (again): If you don't want two people as blood pact warriors Stynier, just say the word. I just thought that we could develop a better story with multiple players on the "chaos" team.

@Little Lord: I think it makes more sense if you replace 'Navarre' with 'Sual'. That way there is a clear cut link between you two.

"Navarre, report!" Saul snarled into the voxcaster as he stood over the woman's motionless body. He hadn't heard from the man since the team had split up, it was most uncommon.

"Etoguar, what of the woman?" inquired Pacter Vorth, prodding her unconscious form with the tip of his bayonet. The look in his eyes saying it all, he was hungry for her blood.

Saul's initial response was for him to finish her and drink of her blood, yet as he went to respond he felt a pang of something inside his head, what it was exactly at first he knew not, but quickly he found himself coming up with a second response. "Take her to the Slaaneshi Worshipers, this one is not ours to take. There will be more blood to be spilled Vorth."

The warrior nodded and slung his autogun, reaching down he hefted the woman up and over one of his shoulders Nodding, he turned and left the anti-chamber.

The remaining five warriors looked to their Etoguar, awaiting their instructions. Saul threw the voxset back to the operator, "Let me know the moment Navarre responds, for now we must continue the hunt, our pray is close."

(OOC:Etoguar over rules your orders Little Lord )

Godric glanced round the corner. There were 5 of them, better armed and armoured than your average cultist, and they were standing over something, luaghing. A guardsman was curled on the floor, whimpering as they slashed at him playfully, spraying blood across the room. Before Godric could act, the leader grew tired and rammed his blade down their victims throat. With a gurgle that poor fellow passed away.

Godric roared, swinging around he brought his weapon to bear and let loose drenching the group in a hail of shots. 3 were gunned down immediately by the furious wave of explosive rounds. 2 had the wits to flee, one of them the leader, but Godric downed him with a well placed shot to the chest, erupting the cultists midsection. The last one fled with a backward glance, spraying the halls behind him with sporadic fire in an attempt to discourage any pursuit.

Godric ducked back into cover, avoiding the shots, damning himself for letting the heretic get away. He peered around the corner again. Nothing. The traitor was long gone. Cursing, he stomped after him...knowing he would never catch him in this maze of halls. The vox from the leader sparked into life, making Godric pause.

++Navarre, report! Navarre! We have those Imperial dogs on the run now, regroup at B-sidedeck for another push.++

B-sidedeck. Godric frowned, thinking hard. Then he grinned. He knew where that was...


OOC: @Little Lord: Vors is the one that got away. I hope you don't mind me killing off your squad leader. You know, for the Emperor and all.

OOC: @EF Not at all! Mister Navarre was going to have an 'unfortunate' accident with a bayonet next post anyway .


Vors raged as he fled-how dare that weakling had striked at a servant of the blood god? he would pay for this. Vors disliked fleeing, it was the wrriors way, but he saw little choice.
Finally, when he was sure he hd escaped his attacker, the blood pact soldier skidded to a halt and caught his breath. He had to find lord Saul, and report this most damnable interloper. A whimpering sound broke his chain of thought, causing Vaul to look around. In the corner was a guardsmen, no more than 15 years of age, who had must have become seperated from his squad. Vors noticed he had several leg wounds, leaving him little chance of escaping. Vors cocked his laspistol, aiming right between the eyes: when a new, louder sound came, forcing Vors to turn again. He recognised this one immeadiatly. It was the grunting of that imperial lapdog who had ambushed his bretheren. And it was moving at some speed towards him.
A cruel smile slowly broke out on Vor's face as an idea struck him. Pulling out a pack of grenades, and walking towards the downed guardsmen, Vors set about prparing his trap.

Godric turned a corner, bringing his Heavy Bolter to bear. It swung back and forth before him, seeming to sniff the air like an animal. An animal that's cuaght a scent. Blood. A man was draped up against the wall, whimpering in pain. Godric recognised the uniform, it was a fellow guardsman. With a gasp, Godric realised that the man had been pinned to the wall with a collection of cruel and wicked knives. Godric approached him, wishin to let him down, to ease him sufferening. The guardsman looked at him, beyond pain. Godric saw that look in his eyes. A warning. Godric never noticed that the grenades slung across the guards vest were all missing their pins.

Suddenly, he was in a jungle. Blinking rapidly, he tried to recover his senses. He heard laughter behind him. Swinging around, he saw a man, a soldier, chuckling. He wore a red bandanna, and was smoking an Iho stick. Godric didn't remember his name, but he knew he was a friend.

The man stepped forward, and pressed something into Godrics palm. It was an insignia. A skull, with a snake crawling through it's eyes and wings on both sides. On the skulls forehead was an insignia. "Catachan 13th Lucky Devils". The man pressed a finger into Godrics chest. It hurt, and was cold to the touch. Deathly cold. His mouth moved, but no words came out. He started to shout, his eyes hard, but still Godirc couldn't hear him. Just as he started to make out the words reality hit him like a sack of bricks.

He was back in the hallway. Lying on his back on the cold deckfloor. He staggered to his feet. He was hurt and torn all over, but apart from his leg, which seared in pain every time he moved, he was fine. His hands clutched something tight to his chest. He looked down, opening his palm. The snake-skull insignia looked back.

Silently, solemnly, he slipped the brooch onto his vest. It felt good there. Like it belonged. He glanced at the sorry remains of the guardsman, and wondered why the gak he hadn't died in the blast as well. He'd been standing close enough to touch him. Readying the Heavy Bolter, he shook his head. Limping off, he muttered what the soldier in his dreams had tried to tell him, what the voices had been telling him these past 20 years...

"I ain't allowed to die yet..."

Olmedo had become seperated from the group during a small fight with the traitors. He had decided to try and find Godric then try to regroup with all the others. Olmedo knew that he was able to leave and he had been told to simply leave after the mission had been completed. But, for some reason he didn't want to just leave the Space Hulk which would start the count down on his bomb. They would have four hours, but he still didn't want to risk their lives. The Magos would likely yell at him for this un-needed distraction to the mission. But, Olmedo valued life. Especially after the incident which had claimed the life of his brother.

He walked down the corridor following the map he had recieved before entering. Many of the corridors on the map were missing and there were even some new ones making the map a little outdated, but it was mostly acurate. The plan was to go back to the armoury after making sure the side passages were secure and figuring out a few escape routes to their ship. As he walked he thought of the incident.

Olmedo and his older brother had been Guardsmen. Their planet was a small planet, not quite a hive planet but not quite a rural planet either, it was in the middle of the two. Their Regiment had been ordered to assist a small Explorator Fleet which had become under attack by an, at the time, unknown enemy. Later research would reveal that the enemy was in fact the Necrons. Olmedo and his brother were in the same squad, his brother was the Sergeant. They were travelling in their Chimera towards the target zone where the Adeptus Mechanicus forces had figured to be the HQ of the enemy. They were amongst almost a hundred other Chimeras made up of other Regiments and the Explorator Fleet's forces. They had to secure the area and prevent the enemy from gaining any more ground while they waited for the Space Marines to arrive.

They arrived at the target area and were greeted by a blinding flash of green light. It swept through the sea of Chimeras and reduced at least a dozen to nothing but molten metal. The Chimeras stoped. A sea of sparkling metalic warriors marched towards them. The Imperial Guard opened fire and managed to cut down the enemy force a fair bit, but the others didn't flinch and continued to march towards them. Guardsmen started piling out of their Chimeras and running away, others simply drove the Chimeras away. The Necrons opened fired each shot passing through the Chimeras as if they were wet paper. Olmedo's group piled out the Chimera and started firing at the metalic, soul-less skeletons. The Lasgun shots simply reflected off of the skeletons and they returned fire. Olmedo's brother stood on top of the Chimera with his Chainsword in the air. "CHARGE!" yelled Olmedo's brother. The remaining handful of Guardsmen ran towards the Necrons grabbing whatever weapons they could from the Chimeras on the way.

His chainsword managed to cut off a Necron's head and with the few remaining Chimeras they managed to defeat a few Necrons. Then came the Space Marine's Bombardment of the area. The Necrons sank into the sand and vanished as their tomb was bombed. All that was left was the scraps of the few they had killed. Olmedo's bother smiled "I didn't actually think we would make it through that. I guess the Emp". His speech was interrupted by a breif flash of green. One of the Necrons had reformed and shot at Olmedo's brother. The shot had grazed his shoulder and hit one of the Chimera's fuel tanks. He looked down at his shoulder only to see the skin evaporate, followed by the muscle below it and finally the bone. Olmedo watched in horror as half of his brother's torso disintegrated in front of him. The fuel detonated and covered his brother and the few other Guardsmen in flames. Olmedo's last memory of his brother before passing out was the half disintegrated body of his brother flailing in pain as the fire consumed what was left of him. The Space Marines later arrived and managed to support a rescue team tasked with finding any surviviors. Olmedo later woke up in the medical center only to find that his legs had been amputated. He was offered mechanical replacements, they were old and broke down occassionally but he had learnt how to keep them running. His work had been noticed and he was accepted into the Adeptus Mechanicus.

Olmedo turned the courner and saw rhe burnt remains of a Guardsmen. It looks like they had been scattered by an explosion and the arms were pinned to the wall by knives. ++Damn traitors++ said Olmedo. He heard loud footsteps ahead and decided to follow them, hoping that they belonged to someone on his side.

OOC: Why did you decide to follow me? I thought it had been well established that I was a dumb (and very possibly insane) character by both sides? And what the feth is this about a bomb?!?

Vors didn't look back to see if his trap had worked-from the lack of screaming, he suspected not. Braking in to a run, he skidded around a corner, and loaded his lasgun. Turning around and snarling, Vors looked down the sight. He could hear footsteps, but there was no one in sight. Lowering his lasgun, Vors was still suspicous, but turned around-and looked straight into the eyes of a lesser demon.
"My lord grows impatient" said the beat, it's voice resonating with ancient evil. "He demands these insubordinates skulls, for the brass throne." Vors couldn't speak, merely nod weakly. The demon nodded, then slowly dissapeared. Vors looked into the darkness for a moment, then collapsed.

Ripples regained conscioussness slowly, she muzzilly realized a man was carrying her in a firemans lift. Upon closer inspection, she realised he wasnt an ally. Fear spread through her and she started to struggle. The blood Pacter laughed and dug something into her ribs, and she almost immediately began to feel drowsy.

The Pacter laughed and pulled the hyperdermic needle out. That should keep her docile until the slaanesh cultists had done whatever they wanted to be done with her.

@Little Lord: A bloodletter would have ripped you apart, friend or foe, and is not known for being a message courier. (Could you rewrite it as some sort of lesser deamon?)


Godric limped down another hallway. Had he gone this way before? He didn't know, everything was starting to look the same.

A low ominous sound crept up from somewhere ahead of him. At first he could barely hear it, but steadily it grew in volume. Chanting. And not the peaceful chapel kind, this was different. It felt...wrong. Godric felt dizzy, was that from his wound? Or was something else happening? He shook himself to clear his head and soldiered on. Whatever the feth was going on, he was going to put a stop to it.

OOC: Chaos vs. Loyalist... I like this concept. I shall drop to a neutral moderating stance to ensure that the conflict doesn't get out of hand. My character may appear now and then.

Las-bolts shot down the ruined corridor of the derelict vessel, Saul and his men hunkered down behind debris strewn across it. They had run into a wandering group of Imperial Troopers, the two groups caught each other relatively unaware and now had each other pinned.

"Etoguar! The cowards are moving up a flamer!" shouted Pacter Gobrus as he let loose with a burst from his lasgun, the bolts mainly striking ruined husks that hid their prey. Saul took a quick glance in the time allotted by the short burst, sure enough the Corpse-Gods lackeys were moving up a promethium spewing instrument of death.

"Hornskel!" he shouted, a stout sturdy Pacter scurried over to the position, a modified lasgun clutched tightly in his scarred hands. The man nodded as he took up a spot next to Saul, acknowledging that he had been requested in the only way he really could, years ago having suffered irreparable damage to his voice-box. "The flammer Hornskel."

Once again the man nodded and prepped his weapon then nodded once more. Saul, along with two other Pacters emerged from behind cover spraying down the hallway inorder to keep the Imperials down. Mean while Hornskel popped up over the top of the obstacle and gazed through the sight that sat securely at the top of his weapon. The flame-trooper was caught in the open during the last volley, right where he was wanted, Hornskel placed the his sights over the exposed fuel tanks and then mans back and squeezed the trigger. A jet of orange flame spouted from the man's pack as the super heated las-round punctured through the metal tanks and ignited the promethium that awaited inside. The marksman had just enough time to catch a glimpse of the panicked and horrified look on the trooper's face just before the whole tank caught and erupted into a ball of flame.


The ensuing chaos was just what the Etoguar needed, with a roar he fully emerged from behind his cover, rising to full height and shouldering his hellgun, firing it as he ran forward. The other Pacters emerged behind him, moving forward a roar pouring forth from their throats.

The Imperials panicked, between the inferno behind them and a Chaos charge at their front many broke and ran, diving around corners and taking off deeper into the bowels of the Hulk, one or two being picked off by the Pact marksman. The ones who held their ground were less fortunate, las and auto rounds ripped through their flesh, some of the men tried falling straight back using a covering fire only to be set ablaze by the promethium that now covered a section of the hall, their detonating ammunition blowing further sections out of the corridor. Saul gripped his weapon tighter, his form illuminated eerily by light flicker light cast by the flame. "Come on then, we have fleeing dogs to catch."


----

A woman in clad in tight and very bright bodysuit greeted Vorth as he entered the Slaaneshi chamber. As far as he could tell she was the very definition of beautiful, every bit a lithe as the daemonettes he had seen at the Burning of Ithigar VI when the Warriors of the Blood Pact had been graced with the opportunity to serve along side Renegade Marine Warband of Corthang the Vile.

"What is this you bring us warrior of Blood?" she inquired, somehow managing to make the simple question sound seductive.

"An offering milady," he stammered, all of a sudden very nervous for reasons he couldn't explain. "An offering to you and you God, by order of the Etoguar."

"A gift? A gift from Saul?" she asked rubbing her hand across the vest of the warrior as she circled around him. Vorth straightened up, uncomfortable with the circumstances of the contact. The woman moved her hand along the female guardsmen, grabbing her by the hair to pull up her head and take a look at the woman's face. "Oh she will do quite nicely. Perciven!"

"Yes Mistress Lilith?" responded a man clad in deep purple robes.

The woman, Lilith, turned to face the man, a sultry smile played across her face. "Lets not be rude, please assist the warrior with our gift."

"Yes mistress." he replied, swiftly the man appeared at Vorth's side. The Pacter swung the incapacitated Guardsmen down from his shoulder and assisted the cultist in taking hold of the trophy.

Lilith once again approached Vorth, pressing herself up against him. "What of you Warrior? Will you stay with us and engage in some of the... festivities?" she asked rubbing her hand down the side of his grotesque, smiling all the while.

Vorth stiffened up even more, more so than he ever thought possible and swallowed hard. He felt uneasy, he needed to leave. "I'm sorry milady, I must return to the Etoguars side."

She frowned, a look of sadness playing across her face, she bit her lip and looked up at him with a pout. "Perhaps next time then, very well off with you then. Give my regards to Saul."

He nodded and turned, he couldn't get out of the chamber fast enough, the thought of warning them of the possibility of an Imperial Attack on their possiton never occurring to him.

An armoured cultist rushed past the hulking shadow, not seeming to notice it in his haste to get away. Godric peered out from the cranny he had concealed himself in, quite a feat for one so broad. Ahead the strange aromas and scents wafted through the air, and something else...a taste of something...Godric spat. It tasted like foul warp magik, playing with his mind. He shook his head and walked on.

He was close. He knew it...

As he crept down the tunnel towards the sound of the fighting, Decimus was met with a disheartening sight. Three Guardsmen were running down the corridor with a trio of Pacters hot on their trail. "Rally, you craven idiots!", Decimus shouted. He fired at the first heretic, piercing his stomach and sending him sprawling to the cold, hard floor. As he took aim at the next, a las-bolt singed the inside of his leg. He stumbled, his shot going wild as the Pacters closed on him. The first attacker cackled maniacally slammed the butt of a las-gun into his face. Though his faceplate took most of the blow, Decimus' neck snapped back painfully and he saw stars dance before his eyes. The second blow came to his gut, rebounding off of his cuirass but sending off-balance as he tumbled backwards. Decimus allowed himself to fall, pushing off with his feet as he did so. As he skidded along the slick floor of the hulk, he smoothly drew and fired his snub-las in one fluid motion, hitting his first assailant square in the chest. He snapped off several more rounds to make sure he was down before the other Pacter was on him with dagger in hand, grasping at his gas mask in order to strike at his neck. Suddenly there was a bright flash of caustic red light as a las-bolt hit the cultist square in the face, sending his silver grotesk spinning across the corridor. As Decimus twisted out of the Pacter's grasp, fire from two more lasguns tore into the Khornate soldier's torso, shredding his armour and the organs beneath.

Brushing off his uniform as he stood, Decimus walked over to the Pacter he'd knocked down earlier and put him out of his misery with a clean shot to the head. Holstering his laspistol, he turned to the Guardsmen behind him. "Now," he said coolly, "I suggest you explain to me why you were running from the sworn enemies of the Emperor. Now."

OOC: If no one snatches one or more of these characters in one or two days' time, I'll take control of them. For now, out of time to write.

OOC: TBH they're just another bunch of faceless guardsman. You haven't given them any names or attributes, and with all the confusion it would easy to claim to be a stranded Guard somewhere.

Just to recap, as I'm not entirely sure where we stand.

Overall: The Imperium has luanched a boarding party on a (drifting?) Space Hulk for some unspecified reason. They search deep into the hulk (perhaps getting a little lost, and they would probably have to have lost contact with thier mother ship, or it was overrun. I'm not sure) only to find that the forces of chaos, spiced up with a crack force of Blood Pact troopers (or thier equivalents).

Although they held of the first couple of waves from disorganized cultists and mutants, the main attack led foregrounded by the Blood Pact broke the back of the Imperial Aussault. Now only scattered remants are either lost in the hulk or trapped and encircled in dead end rooms.

Characters
Imperial:
Decimus is a guard (rank unknown) trying to rally together what scattered forces he can find. He currently has three Guard under his command.
Benjamin is guard (Sergeant?). His men were cut off from the main force (which was promptly destroyed by the Blood Pact) and he was forced to conduct a fighting withdrawal to the engine room. What going on there now is not clear.
Godric is a giant of a man. He has some sort of history, and seems to have been previously part of the Catachan 13th regiment. He was assigned to the navy as a lowly, nameless rating as punishment for some crime or failure. What it was he himself has forgotten. It's not entirely clear what he was doing or how he got on the Space Hulk. But it is clear that it has affected his mine, reducing him to a child-like state. Only now is his mind beginning to recover.
Corporal Ripple Another lost IG. Ran afoul of chaos and is currently a captive of the Slaanesh cult. Some sort of sacrifce or ritual planned?
Olmedo. Techpriest Engineseer. Good old Olmedo. Need I say more? Not sure what he doing at the moment. Apparently having visions of necrons.

Chaos
Saul Etoguar (=Lieutenant/Colonel?) of the Blood Pact. Currently at the forefront of leading the IG extermination efforts.
Vorth Common Blood Pact. Messenger Boy to the Slaanesh cult. On his way to group up with soul.
Vors Common Blood Pact. Recently his squad fell victim to a surprise attack from Godric. Vors fled and later set a cruel trap which partially crippled Godric. Currently lurking and being mean to Guardsmen, puppies and kittens.
Lillith Head of the Slaanesh cult. Preparing some sort of ritual with Corporal Ripples as the main attraction.

Is this all right?

Emperors Faithful wrote:Vors Common Blood Pact. Recently his squad fell victim to a surprise attack from Godric. Vors fled and later set a cruel trap which partially crippled Godric. Currently lurking and being mean to Guardsmen, puppies and kittens.

OOC: You forgot small children .

Vors slowly opened his eyes, and groaned. He could tell the demon had gone, but could still taste it's damning taste on his tongue. Reaching for his lasgun, the blood pacter slowly stood up, and stomped down the corridor. Slamming the elvator button, Vors growled. He had someone to see.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The first thing Vors noticed as he stepped out the elevator into the Slaanesh convent was the prisoner. She was quite obviously an imperial dog, not a Slaaneshi, but the most striking thing Vors noticed was that she was naked. Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be in a deep sleep.
For a moment Vors knew not what to do. He just stood, and stared. Then averting his eyes, Vors discplined himself-to give in was to go the way of the hedonist. Such was not Khornes way.
"Oh, its Sauls little pet. What does it want?" Vors knew that voice immeadiatly-Lillith. She always made him uncomftable, and he extremely dislike being called Sauls 'pet'. Then, in the blink of an eye, she was standing behind him, stroking his cheek. The blood pacter did not turn.
"Sergeant Navarre, before his untimely demise, ordered me to interragate the prisoner." Vors said, voice all buisness. Lillith laughued, cruelly. "Ah, silly little pet. Saul gave her to us. She's ours now. We outrank you." she said coldly, before adding "Do you like our makeover of her?" Vors said nothing.
"There is another thing" he grunted, trying to look as unfazed as possible. "There is a...potentially troublesome guardsmen following me. Large man." Lillith furrowed her brow, her perfect features creasing. "Oh. Well, it would certainly be a shame if a big bully like him ruined our fun. Would you keep a look out for him and deal with him if he comes, please sweety?" she asked, sweet as could be, before licking Vors face, as if sealing the deal. This made Vors visibly twitch, before replying "Of course, my lady", voice dripping with sarcasm.

naked????

just word to the wise, i made the char for a change from the usual bulky super hero guardsmen. I was not making it for torture pornesque. Now theres been no hints of that happening, but its slaanesh and.....well tbh you know.

so not trying to rant, but be careful >.>

and i cant do diddly squat for a while cos my chars asleep

ghosty wrote:naked????

just word to the wise, i made the char for a change from the usual bulky super hero guardsmen. I was not making it for torture pornesque. Now theres been no hints of that happening, but its slaanesh and.....well tbh you know.

Just making it more Slaaneshi mah freind.

Anyway, That'll all change soon (signs off with cryptic clue)....

OOC:Actually, I think it would be MORE unusual to find someone NOT naked in a Slaaneshi cult. As it is, it's probably more realistic that she's wearing some sort of sacrificial-robe for whatever ritual the cult is planning.

IC:

Godric peered around the corner. There was a gate, crafted out of what seemed to be solid silver. On it was a multitude of figures, all seeming to mesh together in some sort of twisted orgy. It made Godric sick. Tearing his eyes away from the display, he watched the changing of the guard. Now would be the best time to strike, he thought, as the two Slaaneshi Cultists relieved their fellow cultists and took up thier posts. But before he could come up with a plan, the two guards eyed each other. Luanching into each others arms, they lustily kissed, touching each other all over.

Godirc blanched. What the feth was he looking at? He struggled to hold his stomach as he watched two full grown men make out before him. Closing his eyes shut, he tried to ignore the sounds as the two cultists ran of into a side-alley and continued. He shrugged, this could work to his advantage. Slowly walking up to the gate, now unguarded, Godric timidly pushed it open ans slipped in. Not 10-feet away, the two lovers didn't even notice.

Godric closed the gate behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. Looking around he saw burners letting loose a musky inscence, curtain drapes hiding whatever was going on behind him, and again that foul taste of warp magik. He was in.

OOC: Just to clarify, Decimus is a stormtrooper, sergeant rank, attached to the Imperial Navy.

Decimus stared down each of the three Guardsmen in turn, leering at them through the fractured lens of his heads-up display. "Cowards, every one of you." he spat. "In my outfit that would have seen you shot." The Guardsmen looked at each other uneasily. "The question remains, however; will you keep running, or will you redeem yourself in His eyes?" The troopers all nodded emphatically, and there was a general mumble of assent. Not slowed in the least by their lack of enthusiasm, Decimus continued. "Fantastic! There will be time for introductions later. For now... the three of your spread out and take point." While the order sounded benign, the implications were clear; they were his prisoners now.

OOC: Hang on, how is the Ordo Malleus involved?!? There's been no such sign of anything like Inquisitorial involvement.

OOC: Damn! I've edited this out of the first post as well. Ehm... Imperial Navy?

OOC: Well that makes more sense.

As Sergeant Decimus just finished reprimanding his cowardice men a com comes over the Vox com in his helmet,

Sergeant Decimus, this is Specialist Corvin of the Medic corps of the Imperial Navy, my unit was ambushed sir, i am the only survivor, requesting permission to join you and any squad you are with, i am just south of B sector, i have medical supplies as well as a weapons cash enough to supply 4-5 men, also can provide any and all back available Sir.

OOC: I'm not quite sure what Olmedo is doing either
What loyalist was I travelling with again? If it wasn't any I'll just make him show up out of no where near some other loyalist.

OOC: Is this Lilith Character expendable?

The chanting grew in rythm and pace as Godric paced forward. He pushed aside the velvet clothe blocking his sight with his Heavy Bolter. Ahead a confronting sight indeed rushed to greet him.

It was a fearful sight. The walls themselves seemed to constantly writhe in ecstasy. Scores of cultists, of both genders, bowed in deference to the altar in the centre of the room. Upon it lay a young woman in a tight fitting linen robe, unconcious. Godric stared in amazement, and the cultists paid him no heed. There were things greater than mere mortals going on here...

(OCC: Yes she is, I'll get something up soon I hope.)