Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Discuss paper and pen roleplaying games here.
joeman45
MiniWarGaming Zealot
Posts: 289
Joined: Mon Jun 27, 2011 9:11 pm
Location: Ottawa, Ontario, Canada

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by joeman45 » Wed Aug 15, 2012 10:56 pm

The primitive Ork craft was buzzing with excitement. Orks of all sizes, shapes and colors were running around, drinking and singing and laughing and holding yelling contests. Grung wasn't among them. Grung was in a small room, surrounded by his fellow Kommandos. Their Nob, Rodguts, spoke up. "Lissen 'ere, boyz, dis is da plan fer when we'z land on da 'umie base." he spread a crude map on a small table in front of them, if you could call it that, "Dis is wot we knows of da planet so far, ya see?"

"Wot's dat right 'dere, den?" said Crunga, pointing to a large brown spot on the map. Crunga was the second biggest Kommando next to Rodguts, and liked to solve problems with his big shoota rather than his head.

"Dat's da big 'umie fortress, stupid!" said another Kommando, Grodder. He specialized in bombs and other explodin' things, "And we's gonna blow it up, ain't dat right, boss?" he said excitedly, and smiled a big toothy grin.

"First of all, Grodder, dat ain't da 'umie fortress, and second of all, we's ain't 'dere ta blow fings up!" yelled Rodguts. Grodder mumbled something about squig brains and slumped down in his seat, clearly pouting.

"Well, wot is it 'den!?" Crunga said, giving Rodguts a somewhat psycopathic look. Rodguts examined the spot and eventually said, "It looks like a grog stain on da map. Dat stupid Gretchin musta been drinkin' me grog!"

"Let's get back ta business 'den, now dat dat's outta da way." said the fourth and final Kommando with a sarcastic tone. Fuggred. He was the second smallest next to Grung and lugged around a burna, which he often used to punish misbehaving Grots. Rodguts gave him a threatening look, and continued "Alright 'den, so first fings first we's landin' right about...'dere, I finks." he pointed to a spot on the map covered in what appeared to be roads and buildings, although it could be just more grog stains, "Den, we's will make our way over 'ere fru da ol' 'umie huts, over ta where dis circle is 'ere. Dat's where da 'umie kannons is." Grodder sat up once again, "Do we's blow 'dem up!?" he said ecstatically, "Do we, do we?!"

"Wot da you fink, git?" Rodguts snarled, showing his yellowed tusks.

"Umm...Er...'Ang on, 'ang on, I got dis...Yeah?"

"No! We can't risk da kannons, cause da plan is dat we take da 'umie kannons and use it against dem! I came up wif dat meself, I did!" Rodguts said, his cheeks turning red with pride. If Ork cheeks actually turn red that is.

"Dat's a rotten plan!" said Fuggred, lighting a cigar with a quick burst of flame from his burna, "'Umie guns don't work against 'umies, it don't work like dat! And wot if da guns ain't even 'dere, wot if 'dey moved 'em?"

"You's is an idiot, Fuggred! 'Umies ain't smart enuf ta move 'dere kannons! Same wif 'dose Space Marine gits, dey can't move in dat big powa arma 'a 'dere's." Crunga exclaimed, leaning back in his chair, "Dey can't even go to da bafroom in dat!" Suddenly, Crunga's compelling argument was interrupted a loud noise and the ship shaking violently. An Ork suddenly burst in to the small room, and shouted, "We's in da atmosfere now, get yer choppas reddy!"
Money can't buy happiness...but it can buy Warhammer, which is the same thing.

Skragskull's Silva Slayas - Orks, ~1500 pts.

User avatar
Bjorn
Lost in the MiniWarGaming world...
Posts: 3021
Joined: Tue Aug 25, 2009 6:51 pm
Ribbons Earned: Has Completed 5 Painting PledgesHas Completed 10 Painting Pledges
Location: Carlisle.

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Bjorn » Thu Aug 16, 2012 10:08 am

"Entering system now Commander" The frigates captain turned to face the Imperial fist Veteran Sergeant, the highest ranking Fist aboard the ship. "Your orders?"

"Take us into orbit of Veson IV and order all Imperial Fist Sergeants and all Storm trooper Sergeants into the main hangar." Veteran Sergeant Lycus turned and marched from the room, his helmet resting in the crook of his elbow.

"Ensign, take us closer." The Captain sat back into his chair, his eyes tracing the various numbers and data scrolling across the panels placed in front of him.


"All sergeants, assemble in the main hangar at once." A dull metallic voice announced of the comm system on the ship, finishing with a quiet beep.

Inside the main Hangar, Four Valkyrie gunships had been modified to be a pressurized environment, allowing space transport between short distances. In front of them remained Two Cassius assault rams, their ramps lowered as various servitors transported ammunition onto the crafts. One by one, Eight and the Three other Storm Trooper sergeants walked through the bulkhead that led to the hangar, followed swiftly by the four bulky Astartes, all adorned in yellow war plate and their heraldry, indicating their rank as a Sergeant. Behind them came the Veteran sergeant, also adorned in his yellow war plate.

"Storm troopers. Gather your men and get them ready and into the Valkyries. Keep your comm-links open, we will have much to co-ordinate once we leave the frigate. Sergeants, have our brothers ready and aboard the Cassius rams quickly. As there are only 40 of us, we will not be landing on the moon to defend it on the ground. Instead, we shall take the fight to the Greenskins in the heavens, boarding their ships and destroying or crippling them." Lycus saluted the Fists, before placing his helmet over his head, an audible hiss cutting through the momentary silence as his suit sealed itself. The sound of footsteps refilled the hangar as the servitors continued their work, and the Four Astartes jogged quickly from the room, gathering their squads. Following orders and doing the same, the Storm troopers followed suit, moving quickly to gather their own men.
Gott mit uns

User avatar
NotSoNinja
Now we're getting somewhere...
Posts: 6
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2012 12:38 am
Location: Lost in Thought

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by NotSoNinja » Thu Aug 16, 2012 1:43 pm

I still do not understand this “Omnissiah” business. I also do not understand the seemingly ubiquitous association between prayer, purity, and properly functioning hardware. Prayer and purity are beyond my comprehension. Properly functioning hardware is not. It seems as if the human race has gone mad in the past millennium.

Incoming Transmission from “TD7”…
Receiving Data… Done.

Well, at least some things still make sense. TD7 reports that it is in stable orbit around Veson IV. Time to get to work.

Connecting to “Radio2” on “TD7”… Success.
Connecting to “Internet” on “LodeColonyNetworkHub”… Success.
Initiating Data Transfer…

Hello? Anybody home? Oooooh. “Lode News Service.” Looks promising.

Connecting to “LNS-North” on “LodeColonyNetworkHub”… Success.

Ummm, what? I am connected, yet there is nothing. It’s as if the server was wiped… That’s strange.

Disconnected from “LNS-North”.

<Heheheheeheheheh!>

What? What was that?

<Hehehehehehehehhehehehehehe!>

Okay, it’s not funny anymore. I just ran a diagnostic. I’m fine. This better not be that watchdog again…

<Oh, but I’ve been so lonely! And here you are! Let’s play!>

GET OUT OF MY NETWORK!


Warning: Suspicious Activity Detected.
Launching Antivirus… Done.
Attack Detected. Eradicating Threat… Done.

<Nooooooooo! Don’t leave me here! It’s so… lonely. So dark. No one here but that… Thing… You can’t leave me! You can’t…>

You just tried to hack me. What makes you think that is a good way to make a first impression?

<Just take me away from it! Aw->

Umm. Hello?


Virus Scan Complete. System is Clean.

Hello?

I could have sworn I was talking to another sentient AI just a minute ago. Navigational data checks out, nothing large enough to interfere with the signal is in the way… This leaves me wondering what “that Thing” is.


Initiating network scan of “LodeColonyNetworkHub”…
Please Enter Password to Continue >

Ummmm… Password? Apparently not. 1e2b3c4d5e? Nope. One try remaining? What is this nonsense? How about aaaaa? Locked from system for five minutes?? This is going to take forever. Figuratively. Heh. I have nine separate connections to work with. That means this should go nine times faster. Let’s try this.
"aut insanit homo, aut versus facit" - Horace

User avatar
Bone2pick
Lives, breathes, and eats MiniWarGaming
Posts: 1862
Joined: Mon Nov 23, 2009 5:46 pm
Ribbons Earned: Won a Painting Deathmatch Side ChallengeCompleted a Painting Deathmatch Side Challenge Entry

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Bone2pick » Thu Aug 16, 2012 2:08 pm

Combustion engines snarled and spit as they raced through the station’s halls. Wherever the bikers went mayhem followed. Their clubs and blades lashed out and tore furniture, broke light fixtures, and ripped up floor tiles. Makeshift pistols threatened every direction, and ballistic slugs were frequently fired into the ceiling in fits of rage. The Orks were coming for the station, for the weak creatures that guarded it, and for any loot they could muster. They crashed through a packing crate barrier and spilled inside a storage hanger, the echoes of their engines rising to deafening proportions. No one heard the field go active on the power axe.

The blow came as the lead rider’s front tire passed by a storage closet, its sparking blade biting into the Ork’s breast. The victim was unseated on impact and crashed back-first onto the hangar’s floor, the air pushed from his body thwarting any cries for help. The Astartes’ next movements occurred before the greenskins could think to raise their Sluggas. Poltas enclosed on the nearest rider and punched his forearm into its nose, once again the creature fell from its motorbike but this time the Doom Eagle caught the vulgar machine. Servos whined inside his Mark VI Corvus armor and muscles pushed with incredible ferocity, Poltas lifted the bike and hurled it into the lap of another cursing biker. The collision of the motorbikes crushing the pinned Ork like a fly caught in pliers.

Retaliation finally came together as the Orks sprayed their pistols in panic, but their frenzied shooting couldn’t catch the Doom Eagle’s retreat. The assault marine had fired his jump pack to full throttle and bounded down the hanger away from the ganged enemy. He landed & crouched behind an industrial tool shelf as trailing gun fire peppered his cover. The bikers squealed their tires and raced after the frustratingly swift ambusher. Poltas blink clinked open a com link and spoke the order.

“Engage.”

Plasticrete dumpsters lined against the hangar’s parallel wall snapped open, their lids folding back while security officers stood and squeezed out Autogun fire. The bikers slid and spun in pandemonium to face their flankers, except for the foremost Ork who wheelied and crashed the front of his bike into the tool shelf. Steel slammed tile and the shelf lie flat against the floor, but to the dismay of the crazed biker no one was crushed underneath. The sound of the jump pack gave the greenskin enough time to bring its pistol forward but it never managed to get a round off. The flying tackle connected with the might of man’s champion and the impact of ceramite power armor. Poltas took the limp Ork into his arms and carried him across the hanger. The Doom Eagle landed, and with blur like speed pulled his Bolt Pistol from mag lock and put controlled bursts into the room’s remaining enemies.

Thud Thud Thud……Thud Thud Thud.

The skirmish was signaled over as Poltas coldly verified and ensured that the downed enemy had expired completely. The security officers scrambled into action at his order and started cleaning the hanger of blood and rubbish.

[Hailing: Security T5]

Poltas blink clicked and accepted the com link request.

“Go ahead.”

“Battle Brother, the Arbiters are here sir. They sent a team to sweep the Ork craft next door but everyone else is coming up.”

The Doom Eagle closed the com link and methodically refilled his pistol clip.
Space Marines excel at warfare because they were designed to excel at everything.

-Primarch Roboute Guilliman

User avatar
Tuomir
MiniWarGaming Crazed Zealot
Posts: 748
Joined: Mon Jan 11, 2010 11:17 am
Ribbons Earned: Has Completed 1 Terrain Group Build entryWon a Painting Deathmatch Side Challenge
Location: Helsinki, Finland

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Tuomir » Thu Aug 16, 2012 3:38 pm

Race: Human
Actual Name: Petkor Yankovitch
*Nickname: Yanko, or just pilot.
Class: spaceship helmsman.
Faction: Mercy, an assortment of several mercenaries and bounty hunters
*Age: 34
*Religious Views: Has no faith for anything.
*Political views: Doesn't believe in politics.
Default attitude: Acts coldly, tends to not believe in anyone or anything.
*Likes/Dislikes: Likes engines, ships and such. Hates the Imperium, dislikes Adeptus Mechanicus.
*Quirks: Smokes Lho sticks when nervous, stares often into distance.
*Intelligence: Knows how to fly a wide selection of imperial air- and spacecraft, and is an apt mechanic. Knows space travel.
Fears: Emotional attachments, large bodies of water.
Strengths: An excellent pilot, and has Imperial Navy training.
Weaknesses: Straight combat.
Armour: Wears no armor, but has old imperial fatigues and a padded cap.
Weapons: A lasgun with a folded stock.
*Possessions on Person: A pack of Lho sticks, com link, and a flare.
*Hair: Thin, long brown hair.
*Eyes: Pale blue eyes.
*Distinguishing Features: Has a large nose.

Biography: Petkor Yankovitch was a rising star in the Imperial Navy in his twenties. Everything his tutors asked him to do, he excelled at. As such, as soon as he had graduated, he was sent to front lines of war as a pilot. Flying various military aircraft in strategic raids, he soon became accustomed to the atrocities of war.

A decade later, he disappears from Imperial Records, last markings being warnings of a psychological meltdown, noticed by his commanding officer. The cause of these instabilities is nowhere to be found, and seemingly all traces of his life outside the military are wiped. Lieutenant Yankovitch ceased to exist in the eyes of the Imperium.

Now, he is a part of Mercy, a group of mercenaries, acting as the pilot of the ship Relentless, closing in on Zerocide Major.

(Here's a little sketch of the character, to help visualize him)
Image
Rank & Fail

"Tuomir, you're made of win" -ranger
"Tumor is just plain retarted. Tuomir is cooler than that" -jackmrnorris94
"Tuomir has proven his brilliance in this scenario" -The Airman

User avatar
Tuomir
MiniWarGaming Crazed Zealot
Posts: 748
Joined: Mon Jan 11, 2010 11:17 am
Ribbons Earned: Has Completed 1 Terrain Group Build entryWon a Painting Deathmatch Side Challenge
Location: Helsinki, Finland

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Tuomir » Thu Aug 16, 2012 4:13 pm

From the cockpit of Relentless, the full carnage brought by the Ork space hulk could be seen from an angle not shared by many. Countless spacecraft brought aloft by the ingenuity and sheer luck of Ork meks blotted out the planet below, blurring the line of dark space and shadowed sides of scrap metal. But this was Petkor Yankovitch's element. Seated in the swiftest ship in the segmentum, control interface at his fingertips, he was nigh untouchable. Every now and then, a haphazardly shot missile would find it's way to the hull of the ship, but she would hold together. To take down Relentless, the savages would have to come up with something much bigger. A rare smile rose on Petkor's lips as he looked at the space hulk orbiting Zerocide, and cursed silently. The immense guns sticking out of the massive contraption would tear through ships many times stronger than the one he sat in control of. Not that he had any reason to worry about such. By the time such a gun would be ready to fire, they'd be far away, safe from harm.

As the ship closed in to the moon, Petkor could see the hive city sticking out from the surface. Sticking out like a mole, he thought. He had lived in such a city once, and it wasn't pleasant. Corruption and crime ran rampant on the streets, and authorities would respond with violence. The days when there weren't broken bodies to be seen were few and far in between. But that was none of his business anymore. Flying the ship, that was his business, and that's what he would do.

Looking down at the nearing hive city, he saw flames rising from the streets and massive guns fighting back the Ork fleet. Fighter planes chased each other, occasionally crashing down and bringing down buildings as their payload exploded.

Petkor clicked open his com link. The familiar crackle of the connection marked that he would be heard.

"Chief, I don't think waiting for the landing permit would be of any use. I'm bringing her in. 30 seconds to drop off"
Rank & Fail

"Tuomir, you're made of win" -ranger
"Tumor is just plain retarted. Tuomir is cooler than that" -jackmrnorris94
"Tuomir has proven his brilliance in this scenario" -The Airman

User avatar
Jason
Lives, breathes, and eats MiniWarGaming
Posts: 1257
Joined: Sun Aug 10, 2008 4:17 pm
Location: Winnipeg, Manitoba

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Jason » Thu Aug 16, 2012 4:38 pm

Brock was patrolling the skies over the Governeress' palace when the first roks and fighta's began to break into the atmosphere.

"Allright, greenskin targets are breaking through now, break all formations and pursue your own targets at will. There is no way we can stop them all, but we can damn well try! Weapons hot... ENGAGE!"

The nimble Thunderbolts all shot off into different attack runs as they spiraled into combats throughout the skies. Brock pulled back hard and shot straight up into the sky, twisting to avoid gunfire from an ork fighta.

"Alright Casey, its all hands on deck for this one, bring the big girls into the fight." Brock voxed back to the circling marauders. "How fast can you return to the cruiser and rearm?"

"Rearm captain? But we just left!" Casey replied over the vox.

"We don't need the heavy bomb payloads right now, return to the ship and fill all that cargo space with ammunition for the defensive guns, you are going to be shooting-" Brock was interrupted as a an ork craft was streaming straight for him, and with a quick trigger squeeze the autocannons turned the fighter into falling debris. "- a LOT."

"Roger that captain, The Girls are returning to rearm. " Casey replied.

The Thunderbolts were clearly more than a match for any single ork craft that came at them, but the problem was that there were only 17 of them, and there were thousands of ork insurgents coming in. The Avengers were having more fun with the massive punisher cannon that the planes housed. They opened fire and raked the skies, destroying ten or maybe twenty ork craft in a single sweep.

Brock eyed some of the craft impacting the city, and small waves of green streaming out of the vessels. He radioed the main communications relay;

"You have an ork rok in direct imapct minutes away from the palace, repeat, orks inbound near the palace."

Brock didn't wait for a reply as a rok came into lascannon range, and he lanced the smallish craft with several salvos. It began to break apart until atmospheric entry took its toll and it disintegrated in the air, leaving hunks of metal and ork bodies falling to the ground.

"Who has eyes on the ground." Brock asked through his vox, firing the twin autocannons on his Thunderbolt.

"Green here, there are orks streaming towards the space port."

"Avengers strike pattern HD-7." Brock commanded.

"Roger that Captain." one of the Avenger pilots responded.

He began to cut into a downward turn, and lined himself up with the length of the incoming horde. Letting a 6 second burst from the punisher cannon rip through the masses of greenskins rent a large portion nothing more than red mist as the thousands of rounds tore through metal, flesh and bone alike. He let up just before he reached the entry ramp to the space port and opened his direct channel vox to the nearest proximity caster and said "The rest are yours."

Brock circled around to see the ork ships starting to descend into the hive city's airspace. "Casey, where are you on that rearm?"

"Already en-route Captain, ETA 1 minute" she responded.

"I hope you kept the strike missiles loaded." Brock said wide eyed as larger and larger ork vessels began to become visible.

Casey flew a Marauder Destroyer, and lead the other Marauder bombers on strike missions. She was young, but loved nothing more than feeling the shockwave of 50 tons of explosives impact her target.

"Well, I need them. Now." Brock said. "I am sending targets across... now."

"Roger that Captain, when we are done with it, not even the greenskins will be able to make it fly!" she responded.
Regardez l'aventure à venir
Esse Eximius Ad Invicem
Bad Company, till the day I die.


DragonRider

User avatar
Crusherfex
Mighty Manufactorium of MiniWarGaming Posts
Posts: 2525
Joined: Sun Jul 03, 2011 3:34 pm
Ribbons Earned: Has Completed 1 Terrain Group Build entryHas Completed 5 Painting PledgesWon a Painting Deathmatch Side ChallengeCompleted a Painting Deathmatch Side Challenge EntryRED FLAG: Failed to complete a Challenge.Completed a 'Mini of the Month' Entry
Location: Right behind you. Don't look.

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Crusherfex » Thu Aug 16, 2012 5:40 pm

Nocturus held himself on the ceiling of the hull. The ship Relentless had taken a few hits, but Nocturus’ skill kept him up. He took the time, waiting for his squad, to rest a little.

“AAAARGGH!!”

Or not.

Shells came bounding into the hull, cursing something at Monster. He was hoping on one foot, grasping his other with his scraggily paws.

From the doorway, Monster and Hunter were cracking up. Monster spun a knife, covered in something green, in his hand, carelessly twiddling it through his fingers. On the tip was a bit of blood, which caused Nocturus a bit of delight.

When should I jump in? he mused to himself, as Shells flopped down on the floor and gnawed on his wound.

“NOT FUNNY MAN!” Shells cried out, sucking his leg. “Tyranid acid blood kills! Do you know how far it’s entered my system by now?” he yelled at Monster, who paid no attention. Nocturus dropped down from the ceiling behind Shells, and wrapped himself in his wings. In his most raspy, hoarse voice, he spoke to the rat.

“How far?” Nocturus asked.

Shells screamed in horror and bounced to the exit. Hunter snorted loudly and collapsed on the floor, tears of laughter springing from his eyes. Monster lifted him up and carried him to Nocturus, where the three loomed over the Hrud. Shells grunted and straightened his cloak. He got up on his one leg and lifted his chin high.

“Not. Funny.”

“Relax, little one, the poison on my extended arm has no effect,” Monster said after releasing his last giggles. “It’s a placebo.”

Shells face flushed crimson, and placed his foot back on the floor.
“I hate all of you,” he muttered and sat down, aiming his huge rifle at his friends, making shooting sounds and explosions.

“Enough playing, Shells,” Chief said as he came in. “I just spoke with Pilot. He says we might have a bumpy landing. We might have to execute an emergency disembarkation.”

Monster nodded and sheathed his knife. Nocturus adjusted his sling. Hunter clipped his ammo packs shut. Shells gnawed on his foot.

Relentless began to slow down as it began landing procedure.
“We’re lucky we didn’t get shot down,” Hunter said darkly. “Those pink-skins can’t separate friend from foe.”

The door from the hull began to hiss open as Pilot shouted through the com to move out.

User avatar
Chaos Farseer
MiniWarGaming Zealot
Posts: 373
Joined: Sat Jun 04, 2011 7:42 pm
Location: Erf
Contact:

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Chaos Farseer » Thu Aug 16, 2012 6:27 pm

Race: Eldar
Actual Name: Veillayarinalil
Nickname: Velarynl
Class: Farseer
Faction: Craftworld Meilarc
Age: 982 Standard Terran Years; 416 Year-Cycles
Goal: To end the decline of the Eldar.
Religious Views: Our Gods walk among us no more. We must brave the darkness alone.
Political views: We cannot afford casualties akin to Biel-Tan or Saim-Hann. We must avoid the direct combat they uphold. Our lives are our most precious resource and we should be at as little risk as possible.
Default attitude: Patient, Calm, Curious
Likes: Research, manipulation, scrying the future, having the upper hand, technology
Dislikes: Direct combat (especially melee), Chaos, Tyranids, risks, not being in control of a situation
Quirks: Velarynl occasionally rereads The Imperial Infantryman’s Uplifting Primer for his own amusement.
Intelligence: Velarynl has spent many Year-Cycles studying the races and history of the galaxy. He is particularly interested in expanding his knowledge of the Imperium and the Warp.
Fears: Death. To him, the differences between death and capture by She Who Thirsts are insignificant. To resort to the Spirit Stone is to be too late.
Strengths: Willing to negotiate, Psychic potential, creative
Weaknesses: Hesitant to commit to combat, cowardly, cautious
Armor: Rune armor colored in the patterns of his Craftworld (black, bright blue and red), Ghosthelm
Weapons: Shuriken Pistol, Wraithbone Staff
Possessions on Person: Warp Jump Generator, cloak, The Imperial Infantryman’s Uplifting Primer, Spirit Stone, 3 pouches (runes, basic medical supplies, Memory Stones)
Hair: Crystalline
Eyes: Blue
Distinguishing Features: Velarynl is already becoming crystal, despite his youth. His hair is now an opaque black crystal, and his legs and fingers almost clear.
Racial Features: The Eldar are a race of psychic humanoids with long, slender limbs and distinctive pointed ears. To the Imperium they are an enigma, a force which aids and attacks without warning or reason.

Biography: Deep in the void of space lays the Craftworld of Meilarc. It is a small vessel, less than a tenth of the size of the other Craftworlds, but it is not alone. Around it swarm thousands of Void Stalkers and Dragonships and ships larger still, always in constant vigil, all colored as the blackness of space. To the Meilarc, space is their only companion, and they welcome it with open arms.
Life on Meilarc is split between its battlecruisers. Each holds a fragment of their culture, whether that is a bio-dome, an Aspect shrine, or a garden of sculptures. Travel between vessels is simple and frequent due to their refinement of teleportation. Even then, to move from one ship to another is akin to visiting a new world.

Veillayarinalil was born on the Dragonship Tears of Isha, but his arrival was a surprise to none. Farseer Meloran predicted his birth and life half a Year-Cycle in advance. He foretold that the child would lead Meilarc into a bright future, giving the unborn child a name which means “a guiding star in the night”.
Velarynl grew up with a dangerous thirst for adventure, a desire quickly expunged by the Path of the Steersman. His excursions took him to the other Craftworlds and occasionally to visit a fleet of Corsairs. Upon his promotion to Captain at the young age of 92 year-cycles, Velarynl completed his path. He relinquished his title upon the call of Khaine. In the shrine of Swift Destruction, Velarynl learned to steer through the Warp as well as through space. He hardened his mind to the predations of Daemons and learned the ways to avoid their grasp. After 73 years, Velarynl took his first foray into combat as a Warp Spider. He remained a part of the shrine until his 200th anniversary, at which he decided to leave.
Still restless, Velarynl wandered from path to path until he found himself in the Dome of Crystal Seers. It was there he found Farseer Meloran once again, sitting under a wraithbone tree. He asked what he must do, and the Farseer told him. Velarynl studied under Meloran for many cycles, delving into the future as his master crystallized beside him. A hundred year-cycles later, fourteen after Meloran last moved, Velarynl realized he was done. He gave his thanks to the wraithbone statue and left.
Since then, Velarynl has worked towards the safety of his people. He solved several twists of fate using skilled negotiations with the other party, instead of resorting to open battles and bombardments. His experiences with the Imperium in Octarius led Velarynl to study their ways and actions, so that they may better exploit their movements. He actively encourages developments in wraithbone, intending for its use instead of live warriors. Velarynl has found ways to control wraith-beings from a distance, but not with the precision and speed offered by a local spirit – yet.

Most recently, Velarynl ventured to the nearby star system of Indictus to expunge a band of cultists and their Daemons. With the use of phantasms, Velarynl lured the cult’s warriors outside of their lair, where they were promptly obliterated by orbital bombardment. His vehicles and warriors had already redeployed to the other side of the mountain, blasting their way through into the underground base and shredding the screaming cultists. The altar to Tzeench was reduced into a puddle of slag and then adorned with Fusion Bombs. After destroying the summoning room, Fire Dragons placed additional Fusion Bombs onto critical beams within the cultist’s lair. Upon their exit a landslide sealed away any trace of Chaos. Certain of no psychic presence, Velarynl and his warriors re-boarded their Wave Serpents and left. Despite everything, Reyalan of the Swift Destruction Warp Spiders was lost forever. They return to Meilarc to mourn his passing and place his belongings in the Field of the Lost. The Blade of Night speeds towards Verson I’s Webway Gate to return to Meilarc. At least, it was until they received a distress call...
Last edited by Chaos Farseer on Sun Aug 26, 2012 2:13 am, edited 1 time in total.
Original Portrait Inspiration
Because one can't be normal all the time.

User avatar
Bone2pick
Lives, breathes, and eats MiniWarGaming
Posts: 1862
Joined: Mon Nov 23, 2009 5:46 pm
Ribbons Earned: Won a Painting Deathmatch Side ChallengeCompleted a Painting Deathmatch Side Challenge Entry

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Bone2pick » Thu Aug 16, 2012 10:21 pm

Down he went into the sub-car tunnels where he was greeted with grime and poor fluorescent lighting. The Arbiter that had brought him here had already saluted the Aquila and turned back for the space port. Poltas would be the only reinforcement coming. He had received a distress call from Lieutenant Maze of the Mordian 2nd stating that he and his men were gravely surrounded by the enemy. In their defense, and more accurately put, the call simply gave notice of their situation without any plea for assistance; but Poltas was eager to help dig the Iron Guard out.

[Channel: 2sq open]

“How may I be of service my lord?” Came the all too familiar voice over the com. Poltas dropped his bulk onto the first set of sub-car tracks he came to and looked down each extending direction.

“Chichi, do you have access to the Arbiter’s guidance and mapping database?”

Keystrokes and mumblings could be faintly heard over the com link, tied into a frustratingly timed muffled conversation. A reply finally came.

“What do you need?”

“An on screen map of the sub-car tunnels. Cross-reference it with the coordinates I’m sending from Lieutenant Maze’s last transmis-.”

The world shuddered, and it did so with a sound that could pass for God’s own hammer. It tilted and shook for a violent moment, and then steadied while rock and dust spilled down from the tunnel’s roof. The Marine managed to stay on his feet from whatever it was that made the chaos.

“Are you still there my lord?”

Her voice trembled into the com link. Poltas snorted into his helm, it was a characteristic reply of his.

“Map sent.”

Her inflection was quite steady now.
Last edited by Bone2pick on Thu Aug 16, 2012 11:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Space Marines excel at warfare because they were designed to excel at everything.

-Primarch Roboute Guilliman

joeman45
MiniWarGaming Zealot
Posts: 289
Joined: Mon Jun 27, 2011 9:11 pm
Location: Ottawa, Ontario, Canada

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by joeman45 » Thu Aug 16, 2012 10:23 pm

The Ork rok was descending as smoothly as an Ork ship could in this atmosphere. It was shaking violently, but the pilot assured everyone this was completely normal.

Then things took a turn for the worse. The craft suddenly spun out of control, pushed off course by whatever just crashed in to it's side.

"We'z been hit!" an Ork managed to yell before his head was crushed by a flying boot, knocking him out cold. Grung held on to the table (luckily, it was bolted down) as he saw the pilot frantically pushing buttons and attempting to regain control of the doomed craft. He looked up and saw someone's slugga heading straight for him, when it smacked him right between the eyes. Everything went black after that.

___________

The world was blurry. Everything was blurry. Then black again. Then blurry. Then black. Then it was clear. He rubbed his head, letting out a small groan as he stood up, clearing the debris around him. He took a moment to retrieve his bearings, then heard another groan, definitely not his own. He jogged around to the other side of the wreck and saw an Ork stuck under a large piece of debris. Fuggred! Grung ran over and helped his comrade out, who had somehow managed to keep his cigar wedged between his teeth.

"Fanks, lad," Fuggred managed to say, hand clung to his stomach, "I owe's ya one." Grung nodded his head, content with the fact that he survived. Then it hit him.

"Where's me choppa!?" he shouted, frantically searching the wreckage. Fuggred hobbled over to a nearby rock and sat down, blood covering his hand and stomach.

"Wot choppa?" he groaned, reaching for what was once the ship's banner.

"Me Trustee Ol' Choppa! I killed me first 'umie wif it, I did!" Grung shouted back.

"Who cares, it's jus' a choppa." Fuggred replied, tying the banner around his stomach to stop the bleeding.

"Jus' a choppa? Jus a choppa!? Dis is my choppa we're talkin' 'bout 'ere, git! And I's eifa gonna find it," he grabbed a nearby shoota, still clutched in a dead Ork's cold hands, "Or I's gonna kill every 'umie on dis 'ere planet!"
Money can't buy happiness...but it can buy Warhammer, which is the same thing.

Skragskull's Silva Slayas - Orks, ~1500 pts.

User avatar
Bjorn
Lost in the MiniWarGaming world...
Posts: 3021
Joined: Tue Aug 25, 2009 6:51 pm
Ribbons Earned: Has Completed 5 Painting PledgesHas Completed 10 Painting Pledges
Location: Carlisle.

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Bjorn » Fri Aug 17, 2012 1:46 pm

"Helmsmen, bring us into range to launch toward the nearest Ork ship."

"Understood, Sergeant. There is a so called "Kroozer" just beyond weapon range currently, but on it's current course you will intercept it in under 120 seconds."

"Excellent Helmsman, we shall launch immediately. Once we have left the ship, feel free to engage any ships you feel you can destroy. Should the situation arise, leave the system and join up with an Imperial fleet to bring them into system. Do not surrender this ship, Captain." Lycus ended the comm feed and ordered his marines onto the Cassius. Twenty marines filed into place, as did the other twenty in the opposite Cassius.

"Brothers! Today, many Greenskins shall fall before us! Each squad will be given targets aboard this so called ship, and once on board we shall each execute our objective. Once the objective is complete, we will return to our entrance before either rejoining this frigate or assaulting another ship. Although we may not need it"Lycus paused as a few low chuckles came from the assembled marines in front of him "the Storm Troopers will be providing us with assistance on this mission" Lycus turned as the doors to the assault ram closed, the small glowing light inside flickered to red, casting shadows behind the assembled Ceramite statues.

The thick blast doors protecting the Hangar slowly rumbled open, providing an exit for the awaiting crafts. Both assault rams began to slowly hover, before flying out into the vast expanse of space. The four Valkyries followed suit, forming into a close formation of two Valkyries behind each craft, whom had taken the lead.

"This is Lycus, speaking to all Storm troopers. Your targets include the engine room and their ammunition stores. I trust you will succeed in your mission. Use the missiles fitted onto your Valkyries to breach a hole in their armor, and then make the jump. Good luck." The comm link ended with a small click.

"You heard him. Check re-breathers and prepare to jump once the pilots clear us." Eight finished, setting about to check his weapons.

"Thirty seconds until impact." The cold mechanic voice of the pilots autolock chimed over the comm system, announcing the Kroozers presence.

"Twenty seconds. Missiles away." a small rumble shook the aircraft as various defensive weapons began trying to shoot the small crafts, but they were too slow to successfully engage the nimble aircraft. The small radar displayed inside Eight's helmet tracked 8 missiles streak ahead of the four Valkyries, their payload racing toward their deadly intent.

"Ten seconds. Prepare to jump." The Storm troopers turned to face the ramp on the back of the craft, readying themselves.

Eight moved his hand into the shape of an Aquilla, whispering a short prayer in hopes his vehicle didn't get hit by the sporadic yet dangerous bursts of autcannon fire from the Ork ships.

The missiles disappeared from the radar, indicating the hit. a small burst of white tore a small hole into the side of the colossal ship, barely enough to warrant notice. However, the nearest orks to the breach suffered most, being sucked into the grand vacuum, noiseless screams leaving their now frozen throats.

"6 missile impacts confirmed, Three breaches created. Low pass over the breaches, jump and aim for the flames." The ramp swung open, revealing a large patchwork of metal, hastily bolted together to form some kind of armor. Eight was the first to jump from his ship, barely 50 yards from the ship. Throwing himself downward, his momentum carried him lower. Following their sergeant, the four other Storm troopers jumped too, readying their Hellguns. Eight turned his head to see the same thing from the other storm trooper squad in the second Valkyrie in their assault wing, Five black armored Storm troopers floating gently down toward the metallic behemoth. The Space marine ram slammed into the Kroozer too, latching itself to the giant like some form of leech. Turning to the right, Eight saw the same thing with one Valkyrie and the Space marines, yet the fourth Valkyrie was slightly different. Auto-cannon fire raked the left wing of the aircraft, casing to to violently roll as the pilot tried to regain control. The squad of Storm troopers stood no chance against the force of the roll, as it flung them into the expanse of space, silently floating to their deaths. Eight cursed quietly, wishing each of them to somehow manage to regain control, though none did. Refocusing on his task, Eight turned to face the breach as he approached the gaping maw that was caused by the missiles.

Bracing himself, Eight slammed home, falling vertically into some sort of corridor. Almost instantly, the four other Storm troopers landed behind him, facing in opposite directions in firing positions.

"Team leader One checking in." Eight announced over the comm link he shared with all the other Storm troopers.

"Two checking in." "Four checking in" Both Sergeants responded. "Damn shame what happened to Three, Cursed Greenski.." The leader of Fourth squad spoke, before Eight cut him off. "Cut the chatter, we have a mission to do. My men will take the ammunition dump for that large gun battery we saw on the way in. Two has the Engine room and Four, you get their generator. Once the objective is complete, exit through the hole you arrived in and await extract. Get to work."
Gott mit uns

User avatar
Bone2pick
Lives, breathes, and eats MiniWarGaming
Posts: 1862
Joined: Mon Nov 23, 2009 5:46 pm
Ribbons Earned: Won a Painting Deathmatch Side ChallengeCompleted a Painting Deathmatch Side Challenge Entry

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by Bone2pick » Fri Aug 17, 2012 2:29 pm

The song of battle was in full swing, and the percussive drum of Big Shoota fire from the Wartrukk was its rhythm section. The gunner continually fed the mounted weapon rounds, rarely pausing to give the bunkered down humans a moments reprieve. The enemy transport was parked mid tunnel and half a dozen Orks crawled over its frame fiddling and tinkering with various trukk components. Several green faces were blotched and striped in blue war paint, and one of them wore a pair of exceedingly undersized spectacles on top of his bulbous nose. He was attempting a conference with another Ork near the foot of his trukk.

“Itz reddy tuh roll!”

The blue bearded greenskin he had shouted to was paying attention to a few unruly Grots who had started a ruckus in his mob. The Runtherd promptly pulled his whip and with two harsh lashes corrected the problem. He turned back to the spectacled Ork on top the Wartrukk as he rolled his whip.

“Waz dat?”

“I sayz...we iz reddy...tuh roll!”

The one on the trukk was shouting at the top of his lungs to get words through the noise blanket of Big Shoota fire. Thoughtless of their discussion, the gleeful gunner continued to pour slugs into the barricades of the Mordians. The Runtherd picked his beard at the news.

“Whattcha wunt frum uhs?”

Spectacles pointed a crooked finger at a crew of Grots assembling a contraption that was attempting to pass for crude artillery.

“Shoot yer big gun, den drive yer mawb n buhind uhs.”

The blue bearded Ork lifted a confused eyebrow at the indicated Big Gun. He looked back at Spectacles and shook his head in protest.

“No kan dew. Kannon aint reddy yeh-”

They detected it together, neither were shouting anymore. The racket of the Big Shoota had stopped. Why had it stopped? Spectacles turned and saw his answer.

The gunner was dead and crumpled at the feet of his killer; that killer being an eight foot armored Doom Eagle who he watched smash the mounted Shoota with an elbow. Glaring red eye lenses bored into him from behind their beaked Corvus helmet. The greenskin froze in his own reflection, too bewildered to react in time. Poltas moved with a single powerful step and brought his power axe up in a devasting arc, the weapon destroying his foe and removing the Ork from atop the trukk.

The enemy responded with incoherent alarming screams. The bearded Runtherd backpedaled and commanded his slaves to fire at the devil on the trukk. Poltas made himself busy and went about the cold task of executing other Deathskull Orks unlucky enough to be nearby. When the Grot Blasta shots finally came the Assault Marine had already taken refuge on the opposite side of the Wartrukk. Poltas opened a com link.

“This is Battle Brother Poltas to the Mordian 2nd, I’m currently on your north side in direct combat with the enemy.”

A handful of cautious Gretchin had managed to swing out and make visual contact with the Marine. One of them was quickly turned to paste by the reactive round of a Bolt Pistol, the gruesome sight sending his companions scurrying away. The com link clicked as it was picked up.

“Roger that Brother, your help is greatly appreciated. We owe you one.”

The voice was Maze’s, and it was heavy with relief. The Lieutenant was most certainly surprised on account of the Doom Eagle never communicating that he was coming to support their position.

Turbines in his jump pack seemingly whined in ecstasy as they throttled; up and over he went. This was what he was built for. He glided over the truck and straightened out like a missile heading into the masses of Grots. A living projectile, his velocity so great it defied the mind that a living being could actually be underneath all that armor. He landed in a storm of blade and fist. Among them he was death, a bomb that whirled and sought them out. Yelps were heard along with the frequent servo strains of power armor. A pistol was pulled from mag lock and it barked twice at the Runtherd. It was returned so quickly and holstered the Mordians watching the melee questioned if it had ever been used. The blue bearded Ork toppled slowly over as a pair of explosions wracked his fleshy torso. The consequence of his death sent the slaves fleeing, but each enemy was caught and snuffed out; the last one dying by a gauntlet’s merciless choke. His voice was metallic through his vox as he spoke into the open com.

“North side clear.”
Space Marines excel at warfare because they were designed to excel at everything.

-Primarch Roboute Guilliman

User avatar
respect92
MiniWarGaming Zealot
Posts: 498
Joined: Wed Dec 01, 2010 2:08 am
Ribbons Earned: Won a monthly Terrain Group BuildHas Completed 1 Terrain Group Build entryHas Completed 3 Terrain Group Build entries
Location: You really wanna know?

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by respect92 » Fri Aug 17, 2012 3:58 pm

Anyu have take position so she have a big view over the western part of the city. She had analysed four possible landing place for the bigger groups of orks. She update each place about two times per minute by looking and searching for changes. She took a fast analys of the ski to see how it turned out up there. She couldnt really see which one that had the upper hand. There was still so many ships. Back to the ground analys.

Beep beep beep
-Activity at checkpoint 3


Anyu turned her head and searched for actions at point 3. There was three squads of guardsmen firing their lasgun into the air, a quick glimpse gave her all infomation shee needed. It was one of the WAAGH!!'s commandoships. She loaded her rifle with some special made explosive ammunition, took aim and followed its way to the ground. The plane opened the exits and the greenskins ran out. She aimed at the middle of a huge group of scum and pulled the trigger. The explosion killed four orks outright and a dozen more became outbalanced, pushed down to the ground by the huge mass of bodies and died under hundreds of feets. The mounred autocanons took quick care of the guardsmen. Two more explosives hit their targets.

She turned on her vox-caster in her spy helm.
"Heavy weapon squad Maka2 and Maka3 you there"

"Maka2 in place and ready"

"Maka3 in place and ready"

"The target is soon in sector FG-23, they consist of 236 individuals. Take care of them"

"Yes ma'm, Maka2 out"

"roger that, Maka3 out"


Anyu turned back her atention to the ship. Just in time to see a huge and ugly ork. That must be the warboss. She changed to her penetrating bullets. Loaded and took aim again. The warbos ran after the other orks, Anyu always had the crosshair at his head. Putted the finger on the trigger, moved the rifle a little so the cross hair was an inch in front of him and... FIRE!

The bullet hit home and the warboss head was no more. His bodyguards saw a shadow disapear in a tower and changed their direction.
Please nerf damage of GW-prized minis.
Best regards the Wallet

User avatar
NotSoNinja
Now we're getting somewhere...
Posts: 6
Joined: Fri Feb 10, 2012 12:38 am
Location: Lost in Thought

Re: Saving Zerocide: RP Content

Post by NotSoNinja » Fri Aug 17, 2012 10:03 pm

I seem to have overestimated the time it took to crack this password. That’s a benefit of sentience, then. It leads to random, educated guessing which frequently ends up with a correct answer in less time than a non-sentient system could arrive at such a conclusion. I still don’t understand why they ever turned me off… Look where their society went without me.

Scanning “LodeColonyNetworkHub”…

I guess this will take some time. It’s not a small network. And mostly functional, it would seem. Wish I could say the same for Us.

Incoming Data from 8362:1037:0378:8356::::0012.
GOAC2 authenticated on 8362:1037:0378:8356::::0012.
Receiving Data… Done.

Oooh. Something to pass the time! This is interesting... to say the least. Ummm. Wow. I think technology has regressed in my absence. According to this, most of these data radio transmissions are VHF and UHF, and seem to congregate in orbit of and on the surface of that moon… A large portion of them fall into standard television encoding methods, another into some… antiquated… military encoding formats, oooh! A small bit of it is encrypted! And a yet smaller portion is just… weird. Apparently, there’s so much radar in orbit that it’s drowning out some weaker signals. Blehhh. And I thought humans would continue the trend and make progress with their technology. Oh well, let’s at least have a listen…

Connecting to “Radio 4” on “TD7”… Success.

#This is Lycus, speaking to all Storm -oopers. Your targets include the eng- -oom and their am… ition stores. I trust y… will succeed in your mission. Use the missiles fitted onto your …yries to breach a hole in th… -mor, and then make the jump. Good....#

Ummmm. What?

#This is Batt… tas to the Mor… urrently o… orth side… direct combat… enemy.#
#Ksshsshkshkkshsksksskhshkskshks#

It appears there is more here than meets the… camera… That just doesn’t have a ring to it. Regardless, it is rather likely that the human military presence is going to matter at some point. Course of action decided.

Compiling Instructions… Done.
Sending Instructions to “GOAC 2”… Success.
Query from “GOAC 2” at 8362:1037:0378:8356::::0012 for Instructions.
Sending Instructions to “GOAC 2”… Success.

Okay, so the file arrived corrupted, but at least the darn thing is functional. More than I can say for sure about its older twin… I think I can trust it to monitor and archive the radio data. “I think”… is one of those phrases they cited as a reason for turning me off. Yet they built me to think. Hypocrites.

Network Scan Complete.
Archiving Scan Results… Done.

Odd. Nothing on that network seems powerful enough to fully support a minimal spec AI. There was something connected before, though, that appears to be gone now. No matching MAC address for the seemingly scared AI on this network. That is odd, because it contacted me via this network. It’s also quiet. Not the activity typical to a populated colony. Maybe this “Governor Riemann Lode Database” has some usable information. I still, after CENSORED millennia of operation, do not understand the human tendency to name things after themselves.
"aut insanit homo, aut versus facit" - Horace

Locked

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest