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Hey. Could we include a Shadowsword in here. I'll crew it. It shall be crewed by tank commander BOOM!

Umm....how you gonna get a superheavy through the jungle? Yeah, sure i can just crush the jungle behind it, but then there won't be no jungle for us jungle fighters to fight in. We'd be stubble fighters. That don't sound so awesomesauce.

Hmm......we have no anti large mobs, I have an idea, if this works I will roll with this character. Since most flyers follow navy purview, unless extraordinary conditions occur. So here it is.(Dammit I want to play a flyer, its so vietnam!!)

Vulture Gunship Pilot/Techpriest(if you would rather I not have a flyer I will happily go along as a techpriest with a restoration hobby)
Vulture name "Baby"
Name: Tech Magos "Gear Head" Greerian
Age: 258
Description: A tall lanky techpriest with a 95.6% Artificial composition, mechandrites replace his legs and act as an impromptu ribcage, the most mechandrites that any living person has seen at once is 23 jutting from his robes
Background: Originally from Mars, Magos Greerian had a knack for irritating his superiors so he was promptly sent to the deathworld of Catacha to fight alongside the jungle fighters. Soon it was found that he could fix and damn near make any piece of armour he came into contact with, this promptly rose to promotions, however due to his rebellious personality he was thrown from forgeworld's back to Catacha to join the 222nd. Ten years ago on a frozen planet he found a crashed and completely frozen Vulture gunship buried in snow and ice. He set to work restoring his 'Baby', while the navy has tried to take the Vulture as their own they found that it was built to operate only in the hands of a Tech Magos with many mechandrites. And considering most Tech Magos won't serve in a dedicated combat role they returned it to Greerian.

Wardragoon wrote:Hmm......we have no anti large mobs, I have an idea, if this works I will roll with this character. Since most flyers follow navy purview, unless extraordinary conditions occur. So here it is.(Dammit I want to play a flyer, its so vietnam!!)

Vulture Gunship Pilot/Techpriest(if you would rather I not have a flyer I will happily go along as a techpriest with a restoration hobby)
Vulture name "Baby"
Name: Tech Magos "Gear Head" Greerian
Age: 258
Description: A tall lanky techpriest with a 95.6% Artificial composition, mechandrites replace his legs and act as an impromptu ribcage, the most mechandrites that any living person has seen at once is 23 jutting from his robes
Background: Originally from Mars, Magos Greerian had a knack for irritating his superiors so he was promptly sent to the deathworld of Catacha to fight alongside the jungle fighters. Soon it was found that he could fix and damn near make any piece of armour he came into contact with, this promptly rose to promotions, however due to his rebellious personality he was thrown from forgeworld's back to Catacha to join the 222nd. Ten years ago on a frozen planet he found a crashed and completely frozen Vulture gunship buried in snow and ice. He set to work restoring his 'Baby', while the navy has tried to take the Vulture as their own they found that it was built to operate only in the hands of a Tech Magos with many mechandrites. And considering most Tech Magos won't serve in a dedicated combat role they returned it to Greerian.

Just curious but what do the other players think of this?

Meh it makes no difference to me.

Oh loner, do you need the rules for the vulture?

Steele stumbled his way through the undergrowth then into the clearing. He didn't seem to be at all surprised or even relieved to have found the camp, he simple countinued his march forward, each laboured step seemed to take a lifetime. Blood was dripping from the multitude of wounds he had aquired. He was covered from head to toe in mud and soot, as you might expect of one who had just wandered through the jungle for Emperor knows how long. Slung over his back was Stumbo, who appeared to be no better then Steele, he was however given the luxury of being unconcious. The fact that Steele could even bare the weight of Stumbo's massive bulk was impressive, especially after walking for such a long time. Behind him he dragged a large bag, nobody could see what was in it, but it left a long trail of red along the ground as he pulled it forward, so it seemed obvious to all what it contained. After just a few steps he let Stumbo slide off his back and slam onto the ground, altough Stumbo didn't seem to care, he was having far to much fun being unconcious. Just a few more steps and he dropped the bag as well, then he allowed himself to collapse next to someones tent. As he layed there, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a lho stick and his lighter. After striking the lighter a few times, he realised it was broken, so he let it slip from his hand and fall to the ground. Steele sat there, stareing into empty space, hoping that no one would offer him a god damned apple.

OOC: Why is no one posting? Come on people, don't let this die!

*Comes back with a crate of apples.*

"Dear lord commissar, you see that trooper sitting there next to the tent? Why don't you offer him some apples? I'm sure it would cheer him up!"

<JKB backs away quietly>

Steele heard a very quiet rustle in the canopy above him. He was surprised, surprised that none of the catachans seemed to notice it. Steele pulled out his las pistol and fired into the canopy without looking. A gretchin fell from the canopy and landed with a thump on the ground. This gretchin was good, quite good, it had been following him for several days. It had taken something from him, and now he could get it back. As he reached towards it, he realised it didn;t have any wounds, it was just fakeing. The gretchin was even better then he had thought. It sprang to life and lept at Steele, a knife clutched in its hands. Steele gave it a hard kick and it flew backwards but landed on its feet. Before Steele could get a shot off it scurried behind JKB for cover. Steele aimed his las pistol at JKB, "Move".

Without hesitation, Captain JKB throws himself to one side, rolling as he does to bring his longlas to bear, just in case Steele should miss, but doesn't fire, waiting to give Steele the first shot.

before I start RPing, am I allowed in or no?

But then, Steele starts chuckling. JKB looks confused. Then a tank crushes JKB. Stuckie looks out of the main seat. Steele walks up to the tank. Good Job, he says. BOOOOOOM! All that is left is a smattering of Blood. "For the Emperor" whispers Stuckie.

DreadlordME! wrote:But then, Steele starts chuckling. JKB looks confused. Then a tank crushes JKB. Stuckie looks out of the main seat. Steele walks up to the tank. Good Job, he says. BOOOOOOM! All that is left is a smattering of Blood. "For the Emperor" whispers Stuckie.

I advice you to rewrite your message or face the commissars...

We usually don't kill other members...

Wardragoon wrote:before I start RPing, am I allowed in or no?

I'm kinda torn on this one.
We've had quite a score of people asking if they could commandeer a valkyrie and to all of them we've said no.
On the other hand you have made a good explenation of why your valkyrie should be allowed.

How about this:
You managed to salvage three aircrafts?
A valkyrie, a vulture and a Vendatta.
If other people want they can also sign up for your crafts?

Okay then. Suddenly a rumble comes from the distance. Tank Commander Stuckie and his crew have been possessed by Daemons. JKB and Steele run for their lives. The Tank fires, killing dozens of guard with each shot. The crew then gets ripped apart from the inside. But then, from the rubble, emerges a new tank commander. The Nightlord. The current Tank was gone, so he mounted himself in a Leman Russ Demolisher, ideal for owning enemy cover.

Loner: Kill the Leman Russ and replace it with a Demolisher.

Wait. How does the driver of our posthumous tank feel about this?

Steele fired and blew the gretchins head off with his well aimed shot. He sat next to the tent for a moment, watching the gretchin's blood drain slowly out of its lifeless corpse. Finally it was dead, now he could get back what was his. He got up slowly, savouring the moment. He limped over to the dead gretchin, squatting next to it. He let a small grin play across his face. Steele removed a necklace from the gretchin, a simple leather band with a small volcanic rock tied to one end. Steele kissed it then held it to his chest.

loner wrote:

Wardragoon wrote:before I start RPing, am I allowed in or no?

I'm kinda torn on this one.
We've had quite a score of people asking if they could commandeer a valkyrie and to all of them we've said no.
On the other hand you have made a good explenation of why your valkyrie should be allowed.

How about this:
You managed to salvage three aircrafts?
A valkyrie, a vulture and a Vendatta.
If other people want they can also sign up for your crafts?

OOC: I am cool on this, as long as they don't break them too much, if they arent cool with this, I can just sign up as a techpriest

DreadlordME! wrote:Okay then. Suddenly a rumble comes from the distance. Tank Commander Stuckie and his crew have been possessed by Daemons. JKB and Steele run for their lives. The Tank fires, killing dozens of guard with each shot. The crew then gets ripped apart from the inside. But then, from the rubble, emerges a new tank commander. The Nightlord. The current Tank was gone, so he mounted himself in a Leman Russ Demolisher, ideal for owning enemy cover.

Loner: Kill the Leman Russ and replace it with a Demolisher.

To all others, ignore this one for now.

DreadlordMe, try to RP in a normal way without ripping everything up or killing everyone.
If you want out of the game, no problem at all. I'll just remove you from the game.
I've warned you once, now I warn you twice.
The third time the commissars will help you.

Russki places a plasmapistol on the table.

Your choice.

Under an unlit large aircraft hanger a shuffling Tech Magos moved around a battlescarred Vulture. With a shrill tech screech at a servitor who snapped to and ran to the gunship to fuel it, turning away from the servitor Tech Magos Greerian popped his vox on and used his heavily augmetted fleshvoice. +The vulture's repairs are about as complete as they can be given whats on this base.+ he said with a strange tone that almost sounded bitter + So whenever you can get the clearance I would like to test my Baby out, provided you aren't too upset with me crashing into the officers lounge last time. I really do not see what you humans get from drinking alcohol, it seems to reduce combat effectiveness of a human generally in the thirty percentile range+

Sgt. 'Joker" Jokorva woke with a jolt of energy at the word 'alcohol' from within the confines of his beloved new tank. The damn techpriest had accidently voxed it over the net. Jokorva rolled over in his bedroll which was uncomfortable on the hard steel floor. He decided it was pointless and exited through the top hatch, painfully hitting his head on a steel rung of the ladder he was climbing. On his way up he found a noisy snore escape the sleeping bag of Private Rissman, the crews loader who had found a prime spot in the turret. "Wake up you lousy treadhead" and with that Joker gave the private a sharp kick, but instead of Risso a snarling gretchin lunged at him from inside the sheets. Before he could say "Holy latreen of terra!" the gretchen had lunged but had missed as the sargent ducked. the hysteric mutant slamming full force into the side of the turret. The now tired, grumpy and annoyed tank commander grabbed the unconcious wrecth by the throat, dragging it up the open hatch and drop kicked the alien a good 10 feet in the air. The would-be assasin landed hard on its over grown nose but quickly leapt to its feet and scurried into the jungle wall narrowly avoiding the las shots fired by Joker from the open top of the Executioner. The rest of the camp barely rose from the seats around their hexy stoves but had intently watched the struggle from afar. The sarge realised that he was in the spotlight , adjusted his crooked slouch hat and with no effort jumped back into his steel tomb.

Hey guys, just wondering if you would want me to draw a few depictions of 222nd. Have a look at this at his one in the mean time...

http://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/0/427882.page

Me!

Hey,

Looks very good! Perhaps you can make some more of certain members of the 222nd Catachan?

OOC: I'll post up the pic brilliant pic Loner did a while back of JKB. Glad to see I'm not apparently dead, as if a Catachan couldn't get out of the way of a tank. Cos after I've spent the day trying to save my friend's live stock, been up since six on a Saturday on almost no sleep and it's almost two am, haven't been home for two days, that would be a real bummer to lose a fun char I've had for almost a year, on top of everything else.

Joker - that freaking rocks. You know we have a rather famous pink leman russ lying around, right.....? Was commanded by our previous tank commander.

Added the beginning of a story.
It will be posted in installments in throughout the thread and on the second post.

Russki plucked at his eyebrows, or rather what was left of them. The enemy did one hell of a job bombarding the camp. As he looked through the jungle, trying to identify what was the way back to the camp. He picked up his fluffy head, where there was a large hole in the side. He shrugged his shoulders and set off towards the camp.
As he reached the clearing and set down in the middle of all of the craters, he noticed that by some sort of a miracle the commissar’s tent was still standing. “Well feth,” he thought as he rose to his feet, “can’t leave business unfinished!” Among the debris, he found a jerry can full of promethium. Quickly he glanced around and noticed that there was no one else. Quickly he poured the contents over the canvas, while someone behind him shouted: “Colonel!”
-“Not some snot nosed grunt again,” he cursed as he tossed the jerry can aside.
As Russki looked for a light, someone shouted again: “Colonel!”
Russki didn’t pay attention to it and just as he wanted to set fire to the canvas, the grunt yelled again.
“Well feth,” Russki swore as he turned around, “can’t a honest man just set a commissar’s tent on fire? I don’t know where your colonel is. Try taking a look through the jungle! You might just find what’s left of him.”
The recruit gave him a funny look, before he replied: “But sir, you are the colonel!”

I think our commisar would appreciate this one