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{-I'll put a key on the next map. For future reference, though, the black shield refers to the main party with individual icons representing other characters as needed. The one below us at the moment is Warrender's squad.

-Agreed; this will obviously need to happen to some degrees, but we'll need to avoid making any major plot/personality choices for others.

-Consider it done. My apologies to everyone who might have been mislead.}

Owain wrote:

Mordoskul wrote:Colonel Commissar Rudiger kicked a cowering trooper with his polished jackboot... [etc]

{I like your style, but the Commissariat was founded as part of a series of reforms in response to the events of the Horus Heresy, which as of this RP doesn't start for a few more centuries.}

Very well, "Genewhip" then.

{This Coat of Arms simple enough to represent this Karukian platoon?

BTW, remember that the Karukian's are from a fuedal world, not tribal.}

{I wrote a two-page narrative post. My computer crashed and it's all lost. They assaulted the mortar position. Two Karukians dead, we have acquired a captive rebel officer and a Griffon. It's been established that the Karukians are terrifying in close combat and Joryn tossed a stun grenade into the Griffon and stabbed a couple guys to death. I'll rewrite some of the narrative when I get back from Warhammer Wednesday at my FLGS. Gonna try out my 500pt Executioner list. }

{Also, epic heraldry, EF.}


As they broke through the trees, the band of Imperial soldiers caught sight of their target; a squad of rebel troops stood in loose formation around a Griffon, the offending mortar protruding from a hatch at the carrier's rear. Joryn turned to Sergeant Harlow. "See that one in the silly hat? Must be some sort of officer. Can you disable him?" Harlow nodded and raised his long rifle to his shoulder, shrugging aside his camo-cloak to accommodate the weapon's polished hardwood stock. "I've got the shot, commander.", he said. "Take it."

The rifle spoke and the rebel officer answered with a strangled scream as his kneecap shattered, leaving a red spatter on the flank of the armored vehicle he had been leaning against. Captain Cepheus gave the Vendolan(?) sniper an approving smirk before turning to the Karukians. "For Emperor and Imperium!", he shouted. "Charge!" The Karukians did just that, surging forward with a clatter of archaic armor and a throaty war-cry. Several of them fell as the rebels opened up with their autoguns, but as they closed to close-combat range the feudal warriors proved themselves to be able fighters, striking down the enemy with blades and gun-butts.

Joryn skirted the melee with ease and made a run for the mortar carrier, clambering halfway up the access ladder on its side and gently tossing a stun grenade into the open top hatch. It detonated with a resounding thud and Joryn hoisted himself over the edge, drawing a single-edged utility knife from its place on his shoulder harness as he did so. Landing hard on the metal floor of the gun compartment, he recovered and drove his knife into the nearest crewman's gut and followed up with a thundering elbow to the chin, causing him to lose consciousness. He hurled himself at the second crewman, who was beginning to regain his faculties. Before he could make a complete recovery, Joryn swiftly rammed the knife's clipped point into the rebel's left eyesocket, killing him instantly. He stepped away from his victim as the third crewman began fumbling for something at his belt. He never finished; Joryn pulled his autopistol from its ankle holster and ventilated the man's cranium.

Hauling himself back over the lip of the access hatch, he bore witness to a scene of utter carnage; the Karukians had literally torn the foe apart. The rebel officer was the only one who had been spared, having dragged himself under the Griffon in an attempt to avoid the feudals' wrath. He was now propped against the vehicle's armored flank, his mangled knee hastily bandaged and his conical red cap sitting at an odd angle.

Slowly, carefully, Warrender's team crept from the woods and onto the road. Smoke was still rising into the air from the many craters scattered over the road and the last remains of an APC stood smouldering and jet black.

Scanning the roadside East to West he was confident that the coast was clear. "Looks like someone got here first" Warrender said to his team that were behind him and out of his vision and slowly made his way to the APC, managled bodies strewn around the area in all directions. "No sign of Joryn so for now, we'll have to assume he's KIA and continue our mission"

"Sir!" Lukas shouted "Multiple tracks leading into the jungle. Looks like a small army boundered into the woods". Warrender walked overto inspect the tracks, they did indeed show a huge amount of movement heading South into the woodlands.

"Perhaps I spoke too soon, looks like the rebels got here before any backup and chased him into the woods" Warrender mused loudly to his team. "Looks like he took several of the buggers with him though" He smirked to the team as he looked down at the many unrecognisable bodies that were once Karukian.

Warrender had several idea's spinning through his head on what to do next. He could follow into the wood and hope to catch this rebel band by suprise, though he doubted that Joryn would still be alive and didn't want to risk a direct confrontation with his untrained unit. He could follow the road and attempt to recon the outpost so that if any other loyal forces arrived he could ... ... his train of thought was disrupted by the sound of a vehicle.

He spun and bounded for the tree's "Lookslike that convoy was faster than we anticipated, INTO THE TREE'S!" His team followed quickly running back into the woods in the direction they came from and hiding in concealed positions.

From their positions Warrender check the charge left in his lasgun while Jerrico and Marcus lay proned with their autoguns ready to fire when and if ordered. Warrender looked left to see his team, Lukas was already scoping through his sniper even though they still weren't in visual range and Branson was just finishing setting up his heavy stubber.

In a low whisper Warrender spoke "Ok lads, we already know whats on the convoy, but what we don't know is what went into those tree's and they could easily be on their way back, so keep your eye's peeled and only engage when i give the order or we're shot at .. understood?" As he said the last word he stared at Lukas, although Lukas wasn't looking as he was scoping he could still feel the burning in the back of his head from his superiors stare and dared not look back even to acknowledge.

As they lay proned and hidden away out of view they prayed that they wouldn't be spotted, that the convoy would pass by without incident "We'll wait for the convoy to pass, then follow them back to the outpost for Recon" Warrender said, knowing that if the convoy passed them without them being seen then they could easily shadow them back to the outpost.

((just to clarify, my team does not yet know that the small band of rebels boundering into the woods chasing Joryn is in fact the loyal Karukian's, my team are making assumptions that they are rebels. Also if no one does anything with the convoy assume my team have followed them and are no longer in the area near the downed APC))

{I re-wrote my lost narrative from earlier. Now, here's a new map! I've rectified Warrender's position and updated ours. Now, what do we do with our spoils, men?}

Gra'ff'en (pronounced Grah-fin) stood on the edge of a plateau overlooking a heavily wooded valley. In it a river cut an imposing figure through the wood as it wound tightly from left to right, and back right to left over and over in its rush to the distant seas. Gra'ff'en saw the turbulence in its currents, and wondered at what events could anger the water so. Was it not snow gently covering the mountains not so far distant only weeks past? Yet here it was now lashing back and forth across this valley, grinding rocks to dust and ever growing with the rains.

And what rains they were this night. The skies above seemed to weep at what had befallen this once proud world. The heavens roared their displeasure and flashed their anger in stark blues and purples as if the souls above meant to add their all to the cacophony below. Lightning hammered cloud as destructively as shell hammered earth. Perhaps it was a competition between the two, of past and of present strifes?

Gra'ff'en pulled his cloak tight about him and stepped off the plateau as yet another shell hit home, as yet the loudest of all...

He opened his eyes.

Gripping his pistol tightly in his hand he surveyed his where-a-bouts keenly. He saw no immediate threat and moved to a crouch as silently as possible. It was mid-afternoon according to the position of the suns in the sky. How could he have let himself doze so long? He cursed inwardly at this distinct lack of control over his own body. Speaking of waking, what had caused his?

The ground rocked again.

Well that would be it then. Mortars. It would be war which woke him. This world had knew nothing but since before his arrival no more than three days hence. No wonder his dream had been so calamitous. At least the threat was distant he thought. He relaxed a bit as he gathered his mat and slight provisions.

Gra'ff'en, late of Craftworld Kaelor, picked up his Ranger's Rifle, shouldered his pack, took one last look at his ship hidden as it was in the brush, and headed in death's direction wondering what this adventure had in store for him.

[Character approved.]

{1. to the Cullexus asassin: Wan't the Officio Assassinorium created after the Horus Heresy? Please correct me if I'm wrong.

2. So this convoy warrender is following isn't headed towards the main group right?

3. Yes, Owain, its "Vendolan" }

Harlow watched the Karukians run after the broken rebels. it seemed that after their officer went down the fight had gone out of them. Harlow watched the remaindr of the Karukians fight it out hand to hand and took supporting shots where he could that flattened quite a few rebels in the woods. Soon, the rebels were dead and the Captain and the leader of the Karukians, Harlow had already forgotten his name, were reigning them back in.

Offhand, Harlow reloaded his heavy rifle and slung it back over his shoulder, patting its side like a dog that had just done some trivial deed for its master. He took out his canteen and drank deeply from it, wondering in the back of his mind where the assassin that had saved hi had gotten to. Harlow shuddered as he remembered the man's death like face. He'd heard rumors about such warriors but had never seen one in person until today.

Harlow flexed his shoulder, that shot he had nearly taken could have put his skills to naught. He had already cleaned the wound and was now working on the officer he had shot, who now had his hands bound by some thin chains Harlow had found in the griffon. The officer glared hatefully at Harlow but said nothing. A glare that Harlow was glad to give back.

Harlow looked at the Captain who was now whipping the Karukians back into line after the skirmish and getting them ready to move. Harlow walked up to him.

"Sir, the officer will live I believe, I've stemmed his bleeding although he won't be able to walk on his own." Harlow smiled with a knowing smirk.

Harlow looked to the Captain who seemed to be in thought about what to do with the prisoner and what to do next. Harlow was wondering something like that himself.

"A crown for your thoughts sir?"

WARORK93 wrote:{1. to the Cullexus asassin: Wan't the Officio Assassinorium created after the Horus Heresy? Please correct me if I'm wrong.

[No. It was created well before. See the Horus Heresy novel Nemesis.]

-Cypher- wrote:

WARORK93 wrote:{1. to the Cullexus asassin: Wan't the Officio Assassinorium created after the Horus Heresy? Please correct me if I'm wrong.

[No. It was created well before. See the Horus Heresy novel Nemesis.]

{ Ah, thanks, I've really gotta read those some time. I withdraw the question}

(OOC: Thanks Cypher-and don't worry about it WARORK, we all make mistakes. Also I hope their are no hard feelings about momentarily controlling sergeant Harlow, I just thought it was as good a way as any to get more involved. May this be the start of a beautiful partnership! )

Elgarion had propped himself up by a treestump on the very outskirts of the Imperial emplacement, contenting himself to pore over a tactical display inside his helmet. Main centres of habitation lit up like colonies of angry fireants across his feild of vision, and the Assassin grimaced-his target could be in any one of them, and every moment he wasted without being sure was a moment his enemy had to regroup.
"Demon." The blunt statement tore apart the contemplative state inside Elgarion's mind, and he turned towards its origin in a motion which seemed half-curious, half-angry. Standing in front of him was one of the Karukians, barely older than 17. His face was etched with a mixture of pure hatred misked with fear. In his hands he gripped a battered lasgun, barely looking like he knew what to do with it.
Demon...the choice of word was odd, give the induction of the Imperial truth and the rejection of belief in the divine, but on the other hands the Karukia was a feudal world. Most of its inhabitants had never seen a lasweapon before, let alone encountered psykers (or, more accurately, anti-psykers). Elgarion reasoned that the boy was still entertaining fears of the monsters in the stories his Grandmother told him around the fireside. He fixed the boy with a hard stare, though it was pointless as his mask made every emotion into a morbid grin. The boy grinded his teeth together once more before turning and returning to his fellow squadmembers in a loping run. Chuckling, the Culexus rose to his feet, and silently traversed the ground towards where Captain Cepheus and the sergeant he'd rescued were talking.

It was time to get this show on the road.

(OOC again: Might it be preferable to establish how early/late in the Great Crusade our story takes place? I.E. what if any Primarchs have been found, what kind of technologies we have access to, beliefs on Psykers etc?)

Little lord Fauntleroy wrote:
(OOC again: Might it be preferable to establish how early/late in the Great Crusade our story takes place? I.E. what if any Primarchs have been found, what kind of technologies we have access to, beliefs on Psykers etc?)

[Could we use this as the timeline for this RP? 40k Timeline. The maps above show this to story to be set in M30.]

((@WARORK93 , it is and it isn't, I invisaged the convoy heading south along the road where they were spotted by Warrender, it then hit the T-Junction and started heading west heading towards the captured outpost and is about to enter the area where Joryn first made his comm call by the APC. From what i can tell your group is further south of that position and won't be noticed unless you wanted it to be. Basically the Convoy will just pass by unless anyone wanted to use it for RP, thought I'd add in something that others could chime in on without it needing to affect the main story, if no one chimes in then I can just use it to build up Warrenders portfolio for you all until we all meet up in the story. Will write more once others have managed to write more, I can write tombs if I wanted but thats not what this game is about, hehe))

((@Owain , regarding his post thats two posts below this one. Have editied all previous posts to downgrade the technology, all except for Warrender who is keeping his lasgun. This threads starting to get real messy with edits and such))

Swinging his sabre in the air Borek whooped in jubilation over the first Voldersun victory. The cheers of the men were no less excited, their swift and easy victory over the enemy made them ecstatic. The mortars had taken a heavy toll on them, but as soon as they closed the distance the slender knives and sabres of the Karukians had done their wicked work work well.
"Voldersun! Voldersun!" they cried, clapping the hilts of their sabres and butts of their autoguns against their thighs.

"Borek!" Joryn snapped, distracted from his interrogation of the prisoner. "Shut your men up, this is a war zone. I want a perimeter established, and see what you can salvage from the dead."

Chastened, Borek whipped around on his own men, sending them flying with his snarl, some to take watch, others to loot the corpses. The scavengers, in the Karukian manner, would distribute the spoils evenly. A quarter for Borek, a quarter for his helm-sergeants, and the rest the looter kept for hiself. He was relieved that at least most of the men didn't speak the Imperial language. Still, that he had been found wanting in his duties angered him.

"Lord Voldersun!" A Karukian soldier ran towards him, Valuk, his eyes brim with excitement as he thrust the a recording log out to Borek. "I found something!"

Taking the object solemnly, and promising Valuk a greater share of the loot, Borek studied the recording before him. His reading skills were wanting, but it looked important.

"Capteen Cepheus! I found something."
{was Gothic the universal language at this time?}

EDIT: To autogun.

Little lord Fauntleroy wrote:
(OOC again: Might it be preferable to establish how early/late in the Great Crusade our story takes place? I.E. what if any Primarchs have been found, what kind of technologies we have access to, beliefs on Psykers etc?)

{There's a timestamp on the map; it can be changed if it seems inappropriate to anyone.}

{Regarding language/technology: I assume that the Gothic language was in use by the time the Crusade started. It's also worth mentioning that at this point, autoguns are far more common than lasguns in most regiments, though equipment as always remains at the discretion of the roleplayer.)

Joryn smiled back at the sergeant, then abruptly wheeled on the Brigantine officer and whipped the short-pattern melta from its place on his back, pulling the trigger and vaporising a chunk of earth at his side. He jammed the weapon's barrel under the prisoner's chin, causing him to whimper pitifully as the still-hot barrel charred his flesh. "Right, then. I'm going to untie you, and you're going to show me your unit's command frequencies. Try anything funny, and I'll roast you and feed you to those feudals over there. Do we understand each other?" The officer nodded, his eyes now tearing up.

Harlow hauled him to his feet and, guns raised, the two Imperial officers escorted their unfortunate counterpart to the Griffon's cabin. The Brigantine fiddle with a few dials of the vox and it crackled to life. "...come in. Platoon B, report. What is your status?" Captain Cepheus grinned and poked the meltagun's barrel at the small of the prisoner's back. "Well, son?," he said, "Why don't you tell him?" With shaking hands, he picked up the vox handset. "P-platoon B here, sir. S-status is... n-nominal, sir." "You're a full twelve minutes behind schedule, Porucznik! Consider yourself demoted." "Y-yes sir. Platoon B out."

"The frequencies?", Joryn asked. The platoon commander pointed to a leather-bound book on top of the vox set. Harlow opened the book and pored over it for a few seconds. "All's in order, sir." "Good." Joryn wedged his combat knife between the man's first and second vertebrae. His body jerked once and crumpled to the ground.

The two stepped out of the vehicle and Joryn turned to the Karukian's lead officer. "Voldersun! Detail two of your men to deal with the body. No honors; he died like a coward." Borek beckoned a pair of young-looking warriors to them, speaking curtly to them in Karukian. One of them made a face and looked to Cepheus. "He will lie in shallow grave, lord." Joryn nodded. "As is the fate of cowards," he said. "Now, Borek, what is this your men uncovered before we were interrupted?"

Owain wrote:

Little lord Fauntleroy wrote:
(OOC again: Might it be preferable to establish how early/late in the Great Crusade our story takes place? I.E. what if any Primarchs have been found, what kind of technologies we have access to, beliefs on Psykers etc?)

{There's a timestamp on the map; it can be changed if it seems inappropriate to anyone.}

(OOC: I...missed that completely. My apologies.)

Gra'ff'en leaned on a boulder atop a hill roughly 400 meters west of the Griffon. Using his rifle's sight he panned the barrel back and forth taking in the scene below. What appeared to be an Imperial officer was wiping fresh blood from a short blade and conversing with another soldier of a lesser rank. Off to the left, closer to the Griffon, two men dressed in uncomfortable-looking armor were carrying a body, which itself was spattered with dirt and blood some of which was still dripping from an open wound in his chest, toward the ditch along the roadside.

The Eldar shifted a little aimed further along the road. He was taking in the view of the road meeting the horizon and the smoke that rose beyond when a twig snapped not fifteen feet to his left. Gra'ff'en turned, simultaneously letting his rifle swing behind his shoulder on its strap, drawing his pistol with his right hand, and tugging his knife from its scabbard on his left shoulder with his left hand. As he did so he slid from the rock onto his knee and aimed his pistol into the woods with his knife hand held ready under the weapon. He waited.

After what seemed like two minutes, though must only have been a handful of second, a small rodent poked its head through the underbrush. It sniffed the ground and then looked up at Gra'ff'en. It was an odd looking creature with two canteen-cap sized eyes the red of dried gore. The nose, which protruded about three inches down the snout in front of the eyes was small, quite bulbous, and pink. Below the nose two startlingly white teeth jutted from the upper lip, the mouth chitting every now and then with soft noises. The ears, behind and above the eyes by about an inch were rather large; the length of Gra'ff'en's knife and coming to a point at the tip. They flapped with every movement of the creature. Its entire body was covered with thick-looking fur the color of mud. Being only about nine inches or so long Gra'ff'en knew it wouldn't offer much meat, but with his meager provisions he knew any supplement would be needed.

He crept slowly toward the creature which, after surveying him for a bit, had gone back to sniffing the dead leaves on the ground. When he was only a few feet away it looked back up at him with its large eyes. Gra'ff'en pounced and beheaded the little varmint with a quick swing of his blade. Tonight a new taste would greet his tongue he thought. He cleaned his knife on the grass and swung his rifle back around, taking one last look at the group on the road before he walked back into the woods thinking about why his dreams had led him here and began to make a small fire on which to cook his meal.

Owain wrote:
*snip*
The two stepped out of the vehicle and Joryn turned to the Karukian's lead officer. "Voldersun! Detail two of your men to deal with the body. No honors; he died like a coward." Borek beckoned a pair of young-looking warriors to them, speaking curtly to them in Karukian. One of them made a face and looked to Cepheus. "He will lie in shallow grave, lord." Joryn nodded. "As is the fate of cowards," he said. "Now, Borek, what is this your men uncovered before we were interrupted?"

{Nice! You're talking my language, especially this last detail. Appeals very much to the Karukian honour. BTW, if anyone has been confused with my differing Karukian ranks (seeing as there was no universal title in the Imperial Army as far as I know) then here it is:
Armsman = Private (not sure how many left, about 20)
Helmsman = Sergeant (2 left)
Shield Bearer = Staff-Sergeant (1 left)
Anything higher than this and we are talking about Nobility, which is a bit more complex. Suffice to say, Borek is under the impression that Cepheus is of higher breed than him, where he views Harlow as a Shield Bearer. Can I just ask if it is alright for me to keep calling you Lord? Captain Cepheus may not have to like it, but in the interested of maintaining morale do you think he would deal with it?}


"My Lord, Armsman Valuk found a data-log near on one of the corpses, a Helmsman it appears. I would have dismissed it as a personal note or somesuch, but the seal looks official." Borek handed the device over to Cepheus, hoping the Captain wouldn't realise that Borek lacked any passable literacy and could only recognise the authorisation at the top-right corner.

It was his fault he supposed, he'd never paid much heed to his tutor in the few classes, always devoting himself to his riding and other martial lessons. The Voldersun's hadn't really valued writing or poetry, they rarely helped as much as a mount and a blade when rival families or brigands raided their provinces. Now however, as he watched the Captain peer the message with an indiscernible face, he couldn't help thinking how helpful it would have been to check whether he had just handed over vital enemy intelligence or a mundane request for ammo or some other equally useless material.

The terrified Imperial troopers leapt over the trench, more afraid of the Genewhip than the guns of their enemies. Rudiger lead from the front, charging forward with his power sword drawn, and firing his bolt pistol with his left hand. A soldier in front of the Genewhip cried out in pain as his kneecaps were torn apart by an enemy las round, dropping him to the ground in a screaming heap. Rudiger grabbed his collar, dragging the wounded man forward, shouting at him to fire his rifle. Las rounds spat at the Genewhip from the rebel trench, tinging the air with ozone and blackening the side of his face as one nearly connected with his head. Leaping into the trench with the wounded soldier, Rudiger slammed the butt of his power sword into the face of a rebel trooper, splitting the skin and spilling blood down his face. The wounded trooper fired with his lasgun, vaporizing the head of another as his brain overheated and exploded. More loyalist troops leapt into the trench, fighting with rifle butts and crude clubs made of metal, wood, even severed limbs.

Harlow hauled the dead weight of the body up and out of the Griffon, though not before liberating the captain of his laspistol and the ammo for it. Harlow hadn't had lots of experience with las weapons but he was sure that he would benefit from its pilfering. He watched the two men carry off the body of the officer and proceed to bury him in a ditch. While scanning the area his keen marksman's eyes picked up on a sudden glint in the distance. It wasn't slightly noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking directly at it, but Harlow knew what it was; the sudden flicker of light bouncing off of the end of a scope. As soon as he had seen it, it was gone, no shots rang out, after a few moments Harlow assumed they were safe.

He went back into the Griffon's cabin and flipped through the pages of frequencies in the book. He chose one that looked important and turned on the radio to that frequency, all he got was static, so he flipped to another. This one rewarded him with two voices going back and forth.

"Be advised command, my group is approaching the objective."

"Roger that convoy, repeat coordinates?"

"You sure this is a secure channel sir?"

Harlow grinned, not anymore, he thought.

"Roger, line is secure."

The coordinates were given and Harlow turned the radio off, having written them down. He pulled out his own part of the map and began crunching numbers until he got a general vicinity somewhere just northeast of the post. His thoughts were interrupted as the sound of fluttering wings came closer to him. Harlow held out his arm instinctively and a great hawk or raptor landed on his forearm which was padded by a leather vambrance underneath his fatigues. Harlow brought his arm in until he was looking at the Hawk's eyes.

"Hey there girl, haven't seen you around lately, what's the word?"

The bird tilted its head to one side and looked at the map.

"Oh really, can you show me?" Harlow whispered.

The people of Vendolan's lesser continent were fantastic hunters by all means, and their men often hunted with birds of prey. This practice became prevalent in the Vendolan ways of war as well. Vendolan troops, especially their recon specialists, used these birds as spies and messengers for the troops. The hawks were trained to report their findings in a very useful way...

The hawk grabbed a pebble from a pouch attached to its leg and placed it on Harlow's map on the south road headed toward the post, the next one went behind that, until six pebbles were lined up on the road just northeast of the post. Then the hawk put another group of five smaller pebbles behind the main line of pebbles on the map. Harlow noticed that all of the pebbles were in the middle of the area he had marked from the radio coordinates. He smiled, perfect fit. Harlow took a bit of something out of his webbing pocket and let the hawk eat it out of his hand.

"Good work girl, keep looking, especially up there, about half a klick? You see that flash?"

The hawk tilted its head again and looked at Harlow, who smirked.

"Of course you did, keep and eye on the area would you?"

Harlow gave the hawk another piece of meat and put the pebbles back in its pouch. It flew from his arm and was soon lost to sight in the forest canopy above. Harlow turned his attention back to the battlefield and carried his map and the book of the frequencies out of the Griffon and towards Cephus and the Karukian leader.

"Sir, I've got a couple things I think you'd like to know, firstly, I have learned of a convoy of enemy vehicles moving toward the post along the main road about half a kilck northwest of here via a radio message between the convoy leader and the rebel command. Also I have learned there is a group of five men stalking the convoy, possibly Imperial, via my own source. Secondly, I noticed that there is a third party of at least one watching us from about half a kilck west of here up on that hill."

Harlow pointed to the hill

"Not hostile yet, but I suggest we move soon and try to throw whoever it is off our trail."

The Assassin had stood motionless throughout the entire exchange, admittedly only half listening to the Karkurian's report. He had been turning over the information given to him by the Officio to accomplish his task, slotting different lines of enquiry together to make one complete picture. Now however, as the Captain poured over the data log, an idea struck him and his head snapped to attention, making both Borek and Cepheus jump slightly.
+Give me that.+
Elgarion motioned towards the data log, and with shaking hands (a natural human reaction to his abilities, the Culexus had learned) Cepheus complied. Snatching the small book, the Assassin scanned it's contents with remarkable speed. Closing it shut with a *thud*, the Assassin looked up at the two men.
+We are heading for the nearest city.+ His tone brooked no argument, but that didn't stop the Sheild-Centurion from trying.
"B-but, what about if we had to wa-"
The Assassin turned toward him, the device on his left eye opening slightly. Immeadiatly Voldersun was struck with a measure of the Culexus' true horror, and he seemed to visibly shrink back, looking to Cepheus for support.
Closing the device, the Assassin turned back to the Captain, voice level.
+Leave some men to scout the area or wait for stragglers if you want, but I don't think you understand. It was not a suggestion.+

{Er...I'm thought the Officio Assassinorium wasn't founded until after the HH. I'm fine with you as an Imperial Assassin, but an Officio one?}

{BTW, the datapad was meant for Owain to have grounds to direct our next move, so I'm left wondering how Captain Cepheus will react to this challenge. }

(OOC: in the book Nemesis, the Officio is in fact referred to by name several times. And I too am interested in how out beloved captain [] responds, but one way or another I'm getting to that city. After all, if Clan Culexus has decided to get involved something bigger than a mere invasion must be going on...)

From their vantage point, Warrender and his team watched the convoy approach their position. They seemed to spend ages kicking over dead bodies, flipping wreckage and generally wasting time. It did however, allow Lukas a chance to get a close up look at the hardware strapped to the Chimera's roof using his snipers scope.

"It looks like some kind of lazer drilling equipment" Lukas whispered back. "Could easily be converted and used as a weapon without much trouble, its proberly why its being transported, for testing, its clearly a prototype and nothing that I've seen being on the production line"

It wasn't long before the convoy moved on, with 5 Soldiers racing through the woods, trying to get ahead of the convoy. Warrender who had previously been through this part of the area was already well aware of a long corner in the road west of their position well out of site of the outpost but it was still risky. During their long wait out of sight, Warrender had already formulated a plan to ambush the convoy at this corner, they weren't going to let the rebels make use of whatever the hell was on that Chimera.

As they darted from tree to tree Warrender looked up briefly to see a predatory bird circling them, seemingly watching them. "Gerroff! damn bird, we ain't dead men yet" Warrender snarled quietly. As he spoke the words, the bird flew off towards the southeast. "Very odd" Warrender muttered to himself.

Warrender sneered happily as he lay in wait, he knew no one could keep up with him, they were already in their positions long before the unexpecting convoy arrived. He had picked an excellent spot, the road curved around and the tree's came extremely close to the roadside. They had picked their positions, laid down mines, all they had to do was lay in wait.

Lukas wiped the sweat from his brow, it was one thing to use a sniper rifle to scope distanct objects, it was quite another to actually fire it, now here he was facing the east and hidden up a tree with the road curving southward in front of him.

Warrender, Jerrico and Marcus had taken up positions on the ground near to the tree Lukas was in but scattered enough to give crossfire to some degree. Branson lay in wait further up the road to the east, with orders to let the convoy pass by so that he could get behind.

They had not long got everything ready and their positions dug in when they heard the engines of Chimera approach, not long after it came into view with 10 rebels on either side. "They won't suspect a thing" Warrender smirked to himself.

As the Chimera began to turn around the curve their was an almighty bang as its left tank tread rolled onto the mine causing it to explode, tank tread and metal flung high into the air along with several rebel soldiers that they weren't killed by the explosion, would by shrapnel. The Chimera grounded to a halt as the rebels shouted their orders, circling the downed Chimera.

One of the soldiers raced to the rear of the Chimera and reached for the radio comm's located at the back, as he reached out his hand a sharp whistling sound was heard, the soldier started to fall backwards, his arm still outstretched with a small round hole in his forehead. "SNIPERS!!" one of the soldiers yelled causing the rest of them to look around rapidly, knowing that any one of them could be next.

Warrender depressed a button on the remote in his hand, two more mines in front of the Chimera exploded, detonated by remote and sent several soldiers flying to the ground, several of them screaming as the blood poured from their faces from the metal shards now embedded.

Shots suddenly came from the tree's as Warrender, Jerrico and Marcus opened fire. Their were now only 13 soldiers left, several more fell as they scrambled to take cover behind the downed Chimera and started to return fire on their positions. Another sharp whistling sound sent another soul to the dank muddy road.

Branson slammed his heavy stubbers tripod into the ground between the tree's and steadied his gun. The mines explosion was his que to get out of hiding and behind the Chimera. He allowed himself to grin wide and depressed the trigger, several soldiers had already looked behind them only to see what had crept behind them, as several of them tried to yell a warning as they brought their guns to bear the Heavy Stubber unleashed its payload.

The remaining soldiers were pelted with fire, blood splattered against the rear hatch of the Chimera as bodies were mauled by the weapon. Those lucky enough to be at the side of the chimera were shot in the back by the autoguns as they turned to see the new threat.

From his vantage point Lukas peered into the front view point at the driver. He grinned and pulled the trigger, a sharp whistling sound was followed by the contents of the drivers head being splattered on the inside of the cabin.

The smoke cleared and 5 very happy soldiers walked in to inspect their handiwork. The Chimera was now useless to them and the rear hatch blocked by bodies. Warrender knew that the explosions would have been heard so quickly ordered the removal of the prototype device and quickly raced back into the woods heading north.

Joryn stared down the Culexus assassin, his face drained of all color. With shaking hands, he drew a heavy autopistol from his belt and cocked it with some effort. "You are... very much out of line... assassin. You will unhand that data... and leave this place." Several Karukians had begun to come to their senses and raised their autoguns; one did not need a fluent understanding of the Gothic language to perceive the threat to their commander. Seeing that the situation had become hopeless, Elgarion dropped the book at stalked away.

+You will regret this, Captain.+

Joryn grimaced. "I very much doubt that.", he said. Spent, he fell to his knees and vomited.

Harlow glared at the assassin, despite his internal horror at the things appearance, his feelings of resentment grew over them. The assassin seemed reluctant to be denied and Harlow knew that the Captain was at his strength's end.

"What was it you said?" Harlow asked haughtily, he marveled at the calm in his own voice. "Do you job and let us do ours?" despite the assassin's stare Harlow managed a smile that mirrored the assassin's own skull mask's grimace.

"Besides, I'm sure you don't need some army boys to hold your hand."

the assassin didn't move but the insult was hung on the air. Harlow stepped forwards and grabbed the document. In the distance he could hear gunfire and explosions in the general direction of the convoy he had marked.

"Whatever the case I think it hardly matters now, we've got an objective and it doesn't involve you."

Warrender crouched by the strange device inspecting it. Lukas was right, whatever this was it certainly wasn't something that was mass produced. "Well I see no shame in admitting I have no clue what to do with this thing" Warredner said eventually

Hidden near a group of large bushes they spent time examining the device in detail. They assumed that it had no internal power system and therefore needed an external power supply, something they obviously didn't have.

"So we got it, now what?" Branson said in a critising tone.

"I'm tempted to smash it" Warrender said, holding the tip of his cap and lifting it slightly to allow some air to filter under. "We can't keep carrying it around with us its too damn heavy, destryoing it would be the safest option and still keep it out of enemy hands"

Marcus and Lukas looked at each other uneasily while Jerrico all to hastily grabbed a large log, ready to be asked and have an excuse to break something important.

"Lets wait here for a while, we've been running around for hours and I think we could all do with some rest to catch our breath. Also, good work everyone, I can actually say for the first time in 3 weeks that I'm impressed in your performance, keep it up and maybe you'll live long enough to get out of this dump" Warrender raised his head to look at Marcus "Marcus, any word on the radio?"

Marcus looked back and shook his head "All quiet on the Radio, Sir"

Elgarion seriously considered killing the sergeant as he left the group. It would be easy-he wouldn't even have to use the Animus, all it required was a simple flick of his wrist to embed the knife in the fool's neck, or...
No.
Even with his skills, at such close range he would still be overwhelmed-if he was Eversor perhaps, but he wasn't. Additionaly, on the off-chance that he failed the Imperium would need all the able bodied men it could get. He grinned at that notion; Cepheus was only going to make things harder for him and his men.
On a ridge behind Elgarion, a shadow ducked into cover. The Culexus turned, watched for a few moments, then pressed on through the tree line-one hand on the hilt of his pistol.