Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Join in on the first ever Worldwide Warhammer 40k Campaign, taking part in actually influencing the story based off of your games. All the details are in this forum.
User avatar
Lives, breathes, and eats MiniWarGaming
Posts: 1495
Joined: Thu Feb 26, 2015 1:54 pm

Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Signet-Powers » Fri May 26, 2017 7:32 am

Hello, and welcome to the second series of the role-play portion of the narrative campaign. This narrative is an extension of the excellent worldwide campaign and a continuation of the characters and factions that took part. This narrative will continue up until the next consecutive act of the official campaign and acts as a subsidiary story

This thread is open for all, however from this post onward is only to be used for posting narrative content. All comments should posted in the 'general discussion' thread but otherwise you have complete freedom to write however you wish and in whatever style you wish. For now I'm going to avoid posting any base rules, as we should be able to trust each other for now and to play nice. Don't undermine other players stories, that sort of thing.

Otherwise, you have complete freedom to do what you want to, provided it's within the established limits of the narrative. We had issues last time with players being stuck on planets for months so i'm hoping to alleviate this problem, but you keep your army in one position if you want. There's also no real restrictions on how many forces or characters you can have, but again, stay within reason.

You can pick any race, be it Astartes, Necrons or even the Rak'Gol. How they enter the narrative and conflict is up to you.

I will most likely be updating this section with extra details and information in the future. For now however, I'm going to lead by example and start us off...


7 years later... An unspoken ceasefire has lasted throughout that time. Since it's failure to invade Serpia, as well as the complete loss of control and information on anything that happened at Dracoon, the Dominion has kept mostly to itself, their chaos and traitorous warbands keeping to star systems and sectors under their complete control, while the number of their Imperial allies shrinks.
Despite this they have not been standing idly by. Proxy wars have been raging across the stars, minor cults and renegade factions on worlds important to the conclave suddenly emboldened by an influx of weaponry and funds they never had access to before.

The conclave has been gathering as many forces as it can, many worlds eagerly volunteering countless thousands upon thousands and as many fleets as possible, but these efforts are suddenly strained as the eastern fringe finds itself cut off from half the galaxy by a warp-storm of unfathomable scale, while at the same time fighting off petty, but numerous, skirmishes on all fronts.
Even so, they believe themselves to be stronger than ever and rightly so. The Inquisition has been using the full extent of it's authority to delay the Dominion, going so far as to successfully deprive them of all information of what happened at the Dracoon system. They aren't even aware that the conclave was even present, let alone victorious. Rumours among high command even claim they have the lead on the Whitestone fortresses location and are ready to move.

Regardless, one thing is clear more than anything.
This war is not yet over.

The Dominion's Shadow Crusade.

The rain began to fall again and he had hope. Hope that he might see the sun one more time. Provided he lasted long enough for the skies to clear.
It had been 3 months. 3 months since the regiments had arrived. Light infantry from Hadarn, Brianeat and Ferusiool. Cavalry from Geona and Wrackon 5. Line infantry from the coalition of the panets of Archan, Archun and Archen. Heavy troopers from the nation of Amipaule IV. Mechanised infantry from somewhere else and armored support and more. So much more. Planets and names he’d never even heard of.
3 months since he and other 70,000 conscripts from his homeworld had been delivered. 3 months since they told them the war would be over in a few days at most. 3 months since he arrived on another planet for the first time in his life.

And they hadn’t even gotten past the first hill…

The mountain range was a Killzone. Hills and pathways all topped off by bunkers and too many emplacements to count. The cultists had taken refuge in the snowtops. They were natives to these lands. They knew all the tunnels. All the nooks and crannies to hide in.
Their anti-air defences were impossible to find at that altitude. The mountains were too sloped and rocky for tanks and armored transporation. This meant that troops had to go in on foot. And while the heavy troopers and more trained soldiers had claimed they could have conquered these lands in a matter of days, the conscripts had been sent in first.
The cultists had been grossly underestimated. They had weapons and equipment far beyond what intelligence had previously suggested. Every time they’d managed to fight up to the top of the first few hills, the enemy counter-attack had pushed them back down. Lasgun and Heavy Bolter fire ripping them open. The cultists themselves, gave question to the names they’d been giving. Their iconography hidden under layers of camouflage and webbing.
He lay back behind the rock outcropping he’d stumbled upon. Damien had no intention of moving any time soon. So many corpses littered the path he could no longer see it. The RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT! of heavy stubbers blazed around them. In the distance the sound of mortars would snap like thunder. And voices. They had grown tired of shouting. Now it was just screaming.
He turned over the lasgun. Memories of home running through his mind. The fields. The farm. The stars he watched all night as a child because there was nothing else to do.
Now he looked to hands. They were shivering. He removed the gloves. There was no frost-bite though. He wasn’t even cold, nor that wet.

Somewhere down the hill a whistle blew and roaring followed. Damien recognised it from what little training he’d been given. This whistle meant they were to prepare to charge. panic paralysed him. the enemy must surely have learnt what that noise meant by now?
Guardsmen came running up from the bottom of the hill again, screaming profanities and worse. Another fresh company. More people coming to die.
Only this time, they didn’t. Instead the enemy retreated. Damien barely realised it until the new conscripts charged past him unharmed. “W-What’s happening?” he called out.
“They’re retreating!” Someone called out. “Back into their tunnels!” cried a second. “Come on! Come with us!”
They ran past and he remained in place. His mind turned over countless times, trying to figure out what to think, but as more and more surged past him his adrenaline took over. He roared with them, readied his bayonet and ran up the hill.

70,000 kilometres away, in orbit over another side of the planet, the space port drifted across upper atmosphere. Planetary Governor Russo watched from his office as another Imperial transport ship arrive. “What do you call this then?”
The guest took a sip of his drink. “A complication.”
“A complication? A COMPLICATION?”
“Woah,” the acolyte laid down his glass, “no need to-“
“You said a few weeks! A few weeks to mop up the insurgents, only a couple of regiments. It’s been months and no progress has been made!”
“We’ve cleared entire cities of chaos taint, I’d hardly call that a failure.”
“That’s a lie and you know it!” Russo grunted and swiped an expensive looking vase off his table. The Acolyte winced as it smashed on the polished floor. “Do you have any idea how this looks?”
“If you’re worried about your Approval ratings, I assure you the Inquisition is-“
“Approval ratings? That’s the least of my problems! How many corpses are you leaving over my lands? How much radiation have your… what are they called- Eradicators? -leaked into my streets?”
The Inquisitorial apprentice realised that his tactic wasn’t working so he changed his approach. “I get that. I do, I get that, really. And I can only apologise. This is not what I or anyone else wanted either.”
Russo was about to blurt something out but stopped himself. He grunted and lent back against his desk, sighing. He raised a close fist, eyes level. Singh couldn’t help but admire that. Even when under such pressure he still retained the aura of a leadership. “I know… But surely there’s other options?”

There wasn’t. Since the galaxy had split in half from a sudden and violent warpstorm, all contact with the other half had been lost. And that wasn’t to even mention the increasing number of incursions going on in the Eastern fringe. Worlds closer to the Cicatrix Maledictum were seeing overwhelming numbers of chaotic incursions, though as far as Inquisitor Valeryia’s apprentice Singh was aware, none had managed to reach this far.
Regardless, Segmentum command had appointed that priority one. As such, while the conclave had been building up quite the force over the past few years, they were facing issues doing so now. Naval fleets and Astra Militarum regiments were being redirected to fortress worlds far away and had no care for the conclaves mission. Even the worlds that did, every one out of two had already been over-tithed in preparation for the worst.
This had delayed the conclave but not halted them. They simply now had to go around and recruit regiments in person. Meetings and political deals had to be made with planetary Governors, much like Russo right now, whose planet was of excellent commercial and strategic value for the Conclave.
But the planet had a rising insurgent problem. One that would need to be removed before it affects the conclave in the long run. Russo wanted to leave it to his personal PDF, whose knowledge of the different cultures and nations on the planet Meropis would handle it better. But the conclave needed a quick answer. So spare Astra Militarum regiments had been deployed instead.

“I have no doubt your PDF is up to the highest standard Governor, but we have to be realistic. The Astra Militarum is being delayed because these cultists have weapons we hadn’t anticipated. While it isn’t exactly going as expected, had your PDF tried to take them on, they would be facing similar resistance, perhaps even worse if left to fester in their corruption. I assure you, while not ideal, this is by far one of the better options.”
Russo nodded but he could tell by the look on his face he wasn’t convinced. “I hope so Inquisitor. I truly do.”
“Then may I inquire to you a question?”
“Do you doubt us?”

Russo looked straight at him. “Are you asking me if I’m loyal?”
“Oh, heavens no, your faith in the emperor is without doubt, I assure you. I’m just interested in your feelings towards the conclave.” He shrugged. “off the record of course.”
“You’ve asked me to commit my entire planet for a classified cause, against a classified enemy, in a classified crusade for a classified goal for a classified reason. So, you’ll understand why I, but no doubt many other planetary governors, are a tad bit unconvinced.

Singh smouldered. “I appreciate your honesty. But if you feel like that then why commit at all?”
“Because despite your secrets, of which there are many, the threat you face is the same we do. And it is very, much, real…”
Last edited by Signet-Powers on Tue Jun 26, 2018 3:41 pm, edited 3 times in total.

User avatar
MiniWarGaming Zealot
Posts: 397
Joined: Mon Mar 09, 2015 1:22 am

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Acanthus » Fri May 26, 2017 6:23 pm

Onboard the Battle-barge Fortis Praefectum, high orbit over the feral world of Genjar

The room was dark, the solitary light of a brazier the only source of illumination. The flickering light played against the floor and walls, lending to the room an atmosphere of deep foreboding. Against the far wall, situated on a slightly raised steel platform, was a throne of black rock.

Upon that throne was a figure, dressed in armor of bone, silver, and red. His mechanical right hand rested on the hilt of a great hammer, while his left, encased in a silver gauntlet, clenched the arm of the throne. He wore no helm, but his pale, gaunt face, with the dark eyes and the short black beard, was as implacable as the faceless ceramite mask placed on the pedestal beside him. His silver left arm bore the sigil of the alien-hunting Deathwatch, while his red right arm was emblazoned with the skull-and-sun of the Helios Guard. He was a veteran of a thousand battles, lord of a thousand warriors, son of an unknown father. This, then, was Acanthus Valorum.

Seated upon his throne, Valorum's mind was far from idle. Two years prior, he had sent his Fourth and Seventh Companies, under the overall command of Fourth Captain Tuizus Erioth, to fight at the Cadian Gate against the armies of the Thirteenth Black Crusade. Since then, he and the rest of his Chapter had been separated from the galaxy at large by a great warp storm. The last reports from Captain Erioth had indicated that Cadia had fallen, but that had been months ago. Now it was left to Valorum to decide, with no information from the wider Imperium, how the Chapter was to proceed in serving the Emperor across the Eastern Fringe.

What little information he had pointed to a rise in Chaos incursions across the Fringe. Second Captain Cvriac, First Captain Arren, and Ninth Captain Korvydon had all encountered numerous Chaotic warbands before the rest of the Chapter had arrived in reinforcement. Valorum had little doubt that this would be common across the Imperium, but there was little he could do with the wale storm still raging. His most viable option, then, would be to personally investigate any Chaos activities in the area, and to find a way to trace them to a common source. Once the source had been found, he would analyze all the possible means by which it could be destroyed, working to realize that goal by any means necessary.

Valorum was still brooding on this last thought when he received a vox transmission from his aide, Dorrigan. An unaltered serf, Dorrigan nonetheless performed his duties at a high level of competence, and had become one of Valorum's most trusted advisors.

"My lord," Dorrigan rasped. "We have received a transmission from one Acolyte Singh, Inquisitor Valeria's apprentice. He has sent a general notice to all Conclave forces."

Valorum nodded to himself. "Thank you, Dorrigan. I will come to hear the message myself. Prepare the council chamber."

"Aye, my lord."

Valorum rose, slowly, methodically, and left the room for the council chamber.


"Chapter Master."

The assembled captains and the new Chief Librarian, Rynar Garren, stood arrayed behind their respective chairs. Dreadnought-Reclusiarch Gerodus, too large for such accommodations, stood with his engine idling at the right hand of Valorum's seat. It was he who had greeted his old protege in his deep, grinding voice.

"My brothers. Let us begin."

The captains sat. All were present, save Erioth of the Fourth and Olias of the Seventh, and all were clad in full armor.

Valorum began. "I have heard of the transmission from Acolyte Singh. Dorrigan has transmitted a recording of it to this room. Before we begin, we must listen to exactly what was said." He nodded to a Techmarine standing to the side, who activated the recording device in his hand.

A voice came through the static that followed. "This is Acolyte Singh to all Conclave forces. The situation at world X-77975 has grown dire. Chaos resistance is stronger than anticipated. I do not believe that our Imperial Guard regiments can successfully quell the uprising in time to prevent a greater incursion. Greater force is needed if we are to prevent such a catastrophe. Send help."

"Singh out."

The message stopped, and, at a nod from Valorum, the Techmarine left the room.

Second Captain Cvriac, ever eager to strike, spoke first. "We should send a detachment at once. A full frontal assault. We can catch the cultists off guard with an assault from the sky."

Fifth Captain Andrel smiled bitterly. "Yes, Astartes, striking from the skies. What an inventive tactic. The enemy will be completely shocked when the Angels of Death descend on wings of flame." Andrel had always been somewhat sardonic, for a Space Marine.

Sixth Captain Devitan chuckled. "What would you suggest, brother?" Devitan, the elder of the two, had always regarded Andrel as a naive little brother, and the two had as close a bond as any in the Helios Guard.

Andrel shrugged. "A stealth deployment of a small contingent of scouts and land speeders. We could root out the cultists at their source, rather than batter them deeper into the earth." Cvriac and Seric, Eighth Captain, shook their heads at that. "The Emperor's Hammer has already done that, Andrel," Seric noted. "We would merely do it better."

Fredal of the Tenth turned to Daros of the Third, the newest and youngest captain. "What would you suggest, Daros? You know better than most the perils of engaging an entrenched foe." Daros had been bogged down for a year and a half on the moon of Junta, which had been hollowed out and fortified by necrons.

Daros looked briefly surprised, but recovered quickly. "Why not pure them out into the open using a high-value target? If we can destroy them in the field, we need not risk a tunnel assault."

Garren shook his head. "They are unlikely to commit the entirety of their force to such an assault. If even one cultist survives, we will have failed. We need a way to find their base of operations and remove the root and stem of Chaos."

"I agree," Valorum said. His raised hand quieted his advisors, some of whom seemed grateful for the reprieve from the debate. "We cannot allow this heresy to continue. It has gone on too long. Send a transmission to Governor Russo. Tell him to pull his forces back, and to present to the cultists a vulnerable target of strategic value. We will mobilize at once, and make for X-77975 with all speed. Once there, a scout contingent will make planetfall. They will take care to remain unnoticed. Meanwhile, the main body of the strike force will launch a drop pod assault on the exposed heretics. We will allow a certain number to survive, but drive them back to their tunnels. Our scouts will follow them to ascertain where they are hiding. Once that is found, we can eliminate the heresy once and for all. Should that fail, I have several contingencies in mind. Rest assured, brothers; we will make short work of the cultists. Now go. Make ready your ships. We leave at once."
Helios Guard-Chapter Master Acanthus Valorum

"There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man."
-George RR Martin.

MiniWarGaming Veteran
Posts: 161
Joined: Wed Nov 05, 2014 1:55 pm

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Driedguide42 » Sat May 27, 2017 11:43 am

Aboard the Gorgons Wrath

It felt like centenaries since Capitan Auron had last been on the eastern edge of the galaxy. The last few years had shown the Imperium in general that the universe would unexpectedly change the balance of power without rhyme or reason. The fall of Cadia had urged the Iron Wardens to get on the defensive limiting the chapter to local patrols to prevent the traitors from securing a foot hold in the Wardens territory. Instead of the overwhelming assault that the council expected the Warriors of Chaos instead seemed more interested in furthering individual agendas. With the Gate open warlords that had previously served the Despoiler were now striking out alone. That coupled with the return of the 13th's Primarch meant that Abaddon to many issues then to worry about securing his flank. As such the Chapter had split their forces. Auron as senior commander had taken his 1st battle company reinforced by the 3rd battle company and 5th reserve company and headed out to the far side of galaxy to uphold the Warden's obligation to the Inquisitor Valeryia. She had given the Wardens directions to those guilty of desecrating the forge world Lucius, in return the chapter was to provide support when required to her forces. With both Ultrmar and Baal under siege, that support was needed desperately.

The bridge curently held only Auron and Chaplain Thortes. The Chaplin was an old stubborn warrior who after 200 year at his station had yet to find a second chaplain for the first company. And in that same periord had never been seen outside of full terminator plate.

Thortes "I assume that the inquisitor was kind enough to a lest tell you what we would be doing out here"
The dry growl of Chaplain was exturated by his helm fiery red lenes gave him a likeness in personality to that of the Drakes of Nocturne.

Auron "We are to assist her Acolytes with the recruitment of various factions, our presence will be as both prof of the Inquisitor's authority and as a spear to end the conflicts in systems of intrest"

Auron swore that given the ability Chaplain Thortes' gaze would have melted his Maximus Armour quicker than a Lascanon

Thortes "The Wardens bow to no one"

Auron "True, but it won't hurt to play the part until the weapon is neutralised"

Thortes"who else know's"

Auron "all officers in the 1st and the shipmaster of the Wrath along with our Librarians and Captain Varath"

Thortes "not the 5th"

Auron "Engard's men will provided fleet security, he need not be made aware of the full situation yet"

Thortes nodded and started to make his way off the bridge, Auron knew the Chaplain would head to the battle cage's to humiliate any new Marines that were in Thortes eyes too untested. The Captain rised his voice slightly to make sure the old warrior heard his message.

Auron "Just remember if we encounter any of sons of Guilliman out here don't under any circumstances allude to the fate of the Primaris gifted to the chapter. A blow to their egos that heavy would considered friendly fire"

Several of the mortal crew were visibly shocked by short laugh that escaped Thortes lips.
Iron Wardens - By the will of the Gorgon
"Make war and move on, and again, and again, until nothing breathes which stands against us. All else is sophistry and pretty lies"
- Ferrus Manus, Primarch of the Xth Legion Iron Hands.

User avatar
Lives, breathes, and eats MiniWarGaming
Posts: 1495
Joined: Thu Feb 26, 2015 1:54 pm

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Signet-Powers » Sun May 28, 2017 7:01 pm

The conscripts made it over the hill and descended across a rocky plain. It lead up to another mountain crevice, then a valley, then another hill. They made it so far, almost a few miles of progress before the enemy responded.

A sudden noise. Like something firing. “Hit the ground!” an officer called out.

Damien held his lasgun tightly as he got down in the snow. As did everyone around him. there must have been a good hundred of them here. The sounds of similar orders in the distance told him that other companies were doing the same thing.
He looked to the soldier nearest him. “Is it a trap?”
“Can’t be, we hit their cluster munitions an hour go!” she replied.
“Sounds like only a few shots, surely they can’t suppose to kill us all with a few earth shaker rounds can they?” another suggested.
Soon they got their answer. Several blooms of smoke burst in the air above them. bright white and streaking smoke.

Another whistle blew. Different this time. One he hadn’t heard before. “What’s that mean?”
“Oh sh- White phosphorous!!!” an officer nearby roared. “Gas masks now! Get them on! Seal your uniforms!”

Panic ensued and a mad scramble. Damien fished his out of his belt pack and strapped it on, over his ears and clicking it into the helmet. The smoke descended quickly, reaching them in a matter of seconds.
One soldier out in front was hyperventilating. “I haven’t got mine! He cried. “I don’t know where it is, I-“
But it was too late. The gas encased them. it was the same thing used in smoke grenades but a much stronger blend. Damien could hear the hiss as his uniforms top layer sizzled. Vapour lifting off. His visibility was almost gone. A blank screen of whiteness in every direction. The only thing he could see was the few soldiers close to him.
And that one soldier. He watched as he gasped for air. As the phosphorous burnt all the way down to the bone. Skin crinkling and falling off. The soldiers cries gurgled for a full minute even after he was dead.
He couldn't do anything. He couldn't help him. The others tried to no avail. they could only watch.

A warhorn blew. Much louder than the whistle. Much more violent. And from out in front somewhere.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t’ know.”
“Is it-“
Damien cursed. “It’s a trap, they were leading us in!”
He wanted to open fire but he didn’t know which direction to shoot in. the sound of lasfire began to fill the air, dulled through the gasmask. He noticed figures moving about through the smoke. The thunderous sound of heavy weapons.
“Come on then!” he growled. “Come on you cowards, I’m ready for you!”

He barely even noticed the officer run back past them. “Retreat! We’re retreating!”

Those around him were relieved but not him. “Why? What’s happening?”
“A change of plan, orders from high command. It’s no man’s land up here, we’re going to try to bait them out! Don’t ask me any more than that, we're headed back.”
As everyone ran away, back to safety, he felt something tug at his chest. Something he’d never expected.


He’d not retreat.

Not again.

They’d finally managed a breakthrough. He wasn’t going back. He knew that more than anything. Not under any circumstances. He’d rather die. Rather die than go back down there. Down there was nothing but corpses. Corpses and maggots. Up here was… something. Anything. He had to believe that.
So as everyone ran back, he stayed.
Adrenaline surged through his body. The stupidity of what he was doing blared in the back of his mind, but his forethought was numb. He marched forward, setting the weapon to single-fire. He’d be careful not to waste anything. Fight smart and efficiently.
He marched forward, nearing the front of the smoke when he heard it. Movement, not even that far away from him.
What little calm and control he had over himself vanished. He flipped the weapon to full auto and sprayed it in a mad panic. He hadn’t even thought about doing it, it just happened.
Obscenities fell out of his mouth. He emptied the clip, fumbling to attach another. He heard shouting in front. Had he even killed a single one?

The gravity of his mistake suddenly dawned on him. “oh no, oh no, oh-“
“HEY!” someone yelled. An accent like a knife.
He didn’t think about it. he ran forward, lunging with the bayonet. He emerged from the smoke and tackled into the man, the two of them rolling into the dirt.
Images began to clear in his visor. He was on top of someone. His bayonet had rammed through his torso. The soldiers eyes were under his own mask. He reached up in a pathetic attempt to grab Damien, clutching at nothing.

Damiens mind was too pre-occupied. There was two more. Paralysed by surprise. He had only a few seconds before they could respond.

He pulled his blade out of the dead man and lunged at the next. Holding the rifle by mount and stock he plunged it with all his strength. This cultist almost got out of the way. Almost. The blade caught his neck. Blood squirted like a fountain as he fell over.
Damien went for the next in line, swiping madly. This man parried with his own rifle. The butt of his hilt struck Damien in the head. he was sent to the floor. The soldier tried to pull out his own blade to strike him, but Damien was too fast.
He kicked his legs out, dropping him also. The two of them wrestled on the floor. Damien could feel the man overpowering him. he was bigger. Much bigger. No armor or camoflauge, instead his naked torso exposed to the elements. Built like a Catachan, covered in ritualistic markings and scars.
Damien headbutted him. It had been instinctual, the only possible option to hit the only possible weak point. It gave him an opening. He pulled the assailants knife out of his hand and plunged it into his heart. He pushed him off, stabbing again and again and again. He stabbed until he could stab no more.

Until the anger that had overtaken him disappeared.

He eventually stopped, staring open mouthed at what he had just done. He grapsed at his helmet, unsure what to think. “no, no, no, no, no…” he gasped, his throat dry. He looked sideways to were he’d been headed in the first place when he noticed them.

A crowd was watching. All of them cultists, heavily armored and wielding weapons. Their mouths were covered but he could see their eyes. Looking right at him.

His heart stopped beating. Even as the biggest one approached him he could swear it didn’t beat again.
“Well then…” the champion hissed. “It seems a little dove has graced us.”
He scrambled for his rifle. He took it in both hands and stabbed it into the champions front armor. Blood seeped from the wound but the man stayed standing. He looked down, then back up. He took a hold of the lasgun and pushed it downwards, snapping the blade off in his gut. he threw it aside.
Damien couldn’t move, fixed by his glare. “P-p-p-“
“P-p-p-?” he mocked.
“P-p-please-p-please don’t-“

The champions grinned. Then that turned into laughter. Then that into a cackle. The cultists all joined in, their laughter genuine and not merely copying their leader. He turned back to Damien “Very well then. We won’t kill you.” before striking him with a maul and knocking him out cold. His voice grew stern. "That would be such a waste..."

User avatar
MiniWarGaming Zealot
Posts: 397
Joined: Mon Mar 09, 2015 1:22 am

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Acanthus » Tue May 30, 2017 6:52 pm

Aboard the Fortis Praefectum, warp space

Right, downward stroke. A training servitor exploded in a shower of sparks.

Drop, pivot, uppercut. The head of another was sent tumbling skywards.

Kick left, parry. A servitor's spine shattered, and it fell, writhing, to the training cage floor.

Cvriac looked about in disgust. Fifteen combat servitors set at maximum proficiency, and they had barely lasted one minute and thirty-seven seconds. This has not been combat. This had been slaughter, and it would not prepare him for the reality of war against the forces of Chaos. He needed a real foe, someone who could keep him on his toes, make him genuinely concerned for his life.

"Damn them. Damn their mortal frailty." He kicked the severed head of one.

"In need of a challenge, brother?"

Cvriac spun. It was him. Of course it was. No one else, save Fredal of the Tenth, could approach him without his noticing. In his movements, as in all things, Acanthus Valorum played his cards close to his chest.

He dipped his head slightly. "Chapter Master. I had just finished with this lot. A challenge would do me well."

Valorum nodded, but did not respond, instead examine the weapon rack. He selected a short gladius, the same as Cvriac's own, giving a few practice swings before nodding in satisfaction. "With blades, then?" "With blades, my lord."

The two Space Marines moved to the center of the cage, turned back to back, and walked ten paces towards the walls. Then, they turned, and the duel began.

Cvriac, ever on the offense, began stalking to the right. Valorum mirrored him, stoic and unreadable as ever. The impasse continued for some time, until, without warning, Cvriac lunged, blade first.

Valorum sidestepped, completed a full turn, and brought his blade in from the side. But Cvriac was already down, rolling forward, coming up into a crouch two meters away just in time to parry the Chapter Master's follow-up strike. He punched with his free hand, but Valorum caught the arm just below the wrist. Blades still locked, he head butted Cvriac, sending his face backward in a spray of blood. Attempting to capitalize on his advantage, Valorum was caught off guard by the Second Captain's quick recovery, receiving a kick to the midsection that nearly knocked the wind out of him.

Now it was Valorum on the retreat, with Cvriac barely held at bay through a combination of well-timed parries and quick, pointed thrusts and jabs. The Captain, for his part, was a blur of elbows, knees, punches, and cuts, furiously trying to break Valorum's stern defense. Where Cvriac was a burning ball of fury and aggression, Valorum was as cold and steady as a glacier, never moving more than was required, or expending one iota of energy more than he needed. Cvriac's rage-filled strikes were met with a calm that belied the total focus Valorum had spent centuries perfecting.

The end, when it came, was sudden and decisive. As was his wont, Valorum had waited for Cvriac, that relentless wall of flame, to overextend, confident that, this time, it would be the Chapter Master who would taste defeat. In his belligerent certainty, Cvriac made one catastrophic error; rather than retreat into a defensive stance following a brutal, two-handed strike, he tried a second time.

Acanthus Valorum did not afford his opponents second chances. As Cvriac was raising his blade, he felt his feet go out from under him as the Chapter Master dropped to a crouch. As he fell, Valorum's left hand closed around his right, twisting his wrist and sending his sword clattering to the ground. Worst of all, he found himself looking directly down the length of a gladius, and into the cold eyes of his Chapter Master.


Cvriac snarled. Damn him! Not again! Glaring at the Chapter Master, he gave a stiff nod. Valorum released him at once, and offered him a hand as he rose. "I have yet to see you fight so rashly, Cvriac. What happened?"

How could he not know?

Tersely, teeth clenched, the Second Captain spat his reply. "You know as well as I, brother. Your plan is flawed. The Tenth Company does not have the manpower to conduct reconnaissance unsupported."

Valorum's eyes narrowed, the only sign of emotion on his otherwise impassive face. "That's what has been bothering you? Cvriac, the plan is sound. There is no dishonor in the vanguard. You will be charged with saving the vast majority of the Astra Militarum. It is a worthy task."

Cvriac growled. "You know as well as I that the Second is the greatest of the battle companies. How can you relegate us to such a menial role?"

"I will not allow your foolish pride to dictate my actions as commander of this force. Your role so of the utmost importance. What good is the Tenth, without the Second to stand alongside it? This is about something else."

Cvriac felt his fury ebb. Sighing, he nodded. "Yes, my lord. It is."

"What is it?"

"Tiber, my lord. It is on the other side of the warp storm. So close to the Maelstrom...I fear for that world, Acanthus. I fear for all our worlds. We have a duty to defend them, but how can we, when we are so far removed?"

Valorum put a hand on the Captain's shoulder. "We cannot concern ourselves with that. The Fourth and Seventh are on the other side. Perhaps they are in orbit above Tiber even now. But it matters not. We have a greater duty to the Emperor. The Eastern Fringe is threatened, and we must respond. It is our duty."

Cvriac nodded. "Yes, my lord. I..." Valorum cut him off at a beeping from his vox bead. He listened intently, gave a curt thanks, and cut the feed. Then, he looked Cvriac in the eye. "Prepare your warriors, captain. We have arrived."
Helios Guard-Chapter Master Acanthus Valorum

"There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man."
-George RR Martin.

User avatar
Lives, breathes, and eats MiniWarGaming
Posts: 1495
Joined: Thu Feb 26, 2015 1:54 pm

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Signet-Powers » Thu Jun 01, 2017 9:13 pm

The space-elevator car dropped to the surface. It was in freefall, soon to slow down as it got closer to the ground. Within it’s many floors Governor Russo sat at a table, his personal aide across from him, bodyguards sitting close by. While they were rowdy, Russo himself hadn’t said a word.

“Sir, I’ve got someone trying to get a message through.” the aide informed him. “From the navy.”

“I’ll take it.”

The young man tapped at his personal dataslate and the connections passed to the implants in Russos eyes. The image it displayed of a communication station was seamless. A naval officer looked back at him, an Admiral of his PDF’s defence fleet. “Governor.”

“Admiral, shouldn’t you be with the chiefs of staff? We’re convening within the day.”

“I’ll be there, but before I do I thought I should inform you that the Imperial Navy’s reinforcements will be arriving within the hour, and they’re bigger than what we were told.”

“How much bigger?”

“Long range Astropathic scans are suggesting a fleet, and not necessarily weak either.”

Russo almost bit his lip. The Imperial Navy’s transports ships had effectively commandeered the planets ports for themselves. The Four escorts and single light cruiser, an unusually heavy navy prescence for a single star system, had gave his government many a reason for concern. The Inquisitors Blackship had been a political nightmare when it had arrived, now they were bringing more?

“Let the Imperial navy handle this, and keep the news restricted. I don’t need my people knowing there’s more warships arriving.”

“Ofcourse sir.”

“Thank you Admiral. See you alter.” He ended the transmission with a huff.

“We’re going to have to release some form of press-release sir.” The Aide said. “Otherwise the news will get onto it first.”

“I know. Just say it’s more transport ships. The Navy doesn’t tell us anything anyway.”

“Yes sir, I’ll get on it right away.” He hesitated. “…if it’s not out of order though, may I ask, why does the navy need more warships?”

“…I’m not sure I want to find out.”


“Nothing. Forget it. forget I said anything…”


A long way away, within the depths of a mountains tunnels, Damien awake to the sound of the earth shaking.

His mind came to. He was being dragged. Around corners and underneath poorly lit lights. Soldiers ran past or stood by. Some shouted orders while others just laughed with each other. His head hurt to much to look up but he could see a few of them glancing in his direction with interest.

“Oi!” one of the men dragging him shouted. “We got someone special to show you to.”

They pulled him into a large cavern, shaped into a sort of underground courtyard. They forced him onto his knees, giving him a good view of the place. Stockpiles of weapons and munitions, all of it Astra Militarum quality, better than what he and the conscripts had been given. Cultists ran drills, exercised and prayed in front of heretical monuments. His eyes gazed about the many faces turning in his direction. They looked more amused than anything.

One man in particular approached him, two following close behind. He had no shirt on, much like the man he’d killed outside, and was covered in ritualistic markings. He got to his knees and looked him in the eyes with a grin.

Damien tried to speak but couldn’t. A tight grip held his stomach, so tight he couldn’t move an inch. He didn’t even know if he could still breath.

The man eyed him up and down. “So this is the man who killed Hydrian?"

“Right in the gut.” A voice hissed behind him. Damien recognised that voice. The man who’d knocked him out.


The champion stepped out in front and, much to Damien’s disbelief, pulled the bayonet out of his stomach. Blood dripped out but he didn’t seem to even notice. “With this little thing.”

The man laughed and got back up to his feet. “Brother Torunn, you should know as well as I do that you shouldn’t take that out with your on hands, we have medical staff for a reason. We cannot risk infection while under siege.”

He snorted. “I’ll manage.”

“Hydrian said the same thing. He believed himself invincible, and with good reason. I once saw him gut a hound with only his teeth. Skin an officer while he was still fighting back and take on an entire squad of loyalist scum with only a club…”

His gaze turned back to Damien. “…And yet all it took was you.”

Damien averted his gaze, desperate to lose this attention. Somewhere, in the recesses of his mind he hoped that if he stayed quiet they’d ignore him. But that wasn’t going to work here. He had to speak. Anything, to show he wasn’t afraid. “I’m sorry.”

The moment the words left his mouth he regretted it but it was too late. The man crouched by him again. “Sorry? What do you have to be sorry about? You killed an opponent, someone who was trying to kill you? Do you regret that.”

He didn’t say anything. He was too scared.

The man moved his head slightly, as if trying to coax out an answer. “The concept of self-defence isn’t lost on you is it?”


The man nodded, smiling. “Good. That’s good, good. We msut protect ourselves, mister...”


“Damien. Yes. I like it. Damien. A good, strong name. hello Damien, I’m Felman.” He held out a hand.

He hesitated, not sure if he even wanted to shake it. This man was toying with him. Playing with his prey. He must be.

There was a twitch in his eye, but he hid it well. “That's okay Damien. I didn’t expect you to accept it honestly. It was rather hopeless of me to think it would be that easy. In that case-“

“Lord Felman!” a cultist officer called out as he ran over. “It’s not a fluke, the enemy is in full retreat.”

“Are you sure?”

“They’re drawing themselves back towards the Valleys, we believe we could trap them in on both sides if we move fast.”

Felmand hesitated. “…are you certain?”

“Yes My lord.”

He turned to Damien. “You see boy, this is what a true god does. He rewards his devout followers for staying the path against impossible odds. We have killed so many in the past few days, and he is pleased, so he has rewarded us.”

The cultists armed themselves and made for the exits, to give chase to the retreating Imperials. Felmand took the helmet that hung from his belt and put it on, a modified Guardsman helmet with horns attached, and bellowed a war chant that seemed to cut through Damiens soul. “FOR THE HONOR!!!”

“FOR THE BLOOD!!!” the army chanted back.

MiniWarGaming Veteran
Posts: 161
Joined: Wed Nov 05, 2014 1:55 pm

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Driedguide42 » Fri Jun 02, 2017 2:24 pm

The bridge of Gorgons Wrath-Approaching orbit of Planet designate X-77975

Imperial navy had originally detected the mass of inbound warp signatures and had assumed it had been one massed fleet. The reality had been that the Helios Guard and the Iron Warden fleets had simply exited the warp in almost perfect cohesion. The Wardens had simply demanded to be meet on the surface by the Inquisitors Acolyte and the Planetary Governor and had made best speed with their Battle Barge and 3 strike cruisers followed by a swam of escorts.

On the bridge of the Gorgons Wrath Auron had been joined by Torval the Lord of the 1st company armoury and as such held leadership of the strike forces armoured vehicles. The adept of the machine god and the master of the Iron Council were currently studying the data received from X-77975
Torval "the scum constantly retreats into the mountains when presented with superior force, the tunnels negate the use of the guards heavy elements and any massed infantry formation is simply taken apart."
Auron "Our marines and terminators won't have such trouble. If we drive them back above ground, artillery and air assets will tear them apart"
The comms officer spoke up
Comms "Captain, we are receiving a data package from the Fortis Praefectum"
Torvals optics briefly shifted from Green to read as he remotely accessed the comm terminal and transferred the date to the holo table.
Torval"The data packet has been sent by Chapter Master Valorum"
Auron regarded the detailed plan laid out before him. The battle plan laid out before him was commendable and combined with data from the scans of surface which showed the cultists about to envelope the guard seemed to be a viable plan of attack as the cultists seamed to be eager to spill blood.
Auron "Torval you have the Wrath until I and Librarian Semos return. Have Thortes gather 3 Termintor squads to be teleport ready and have Venerable Calgos and his bothers ready to drop. Once myself and Semos take the Thunderhawk to the place you will move the Wrath above the canyon here" he pointed where the retreating guardsmen where about to occupy "Ounce the enemy move in flatten the entire area"

Torval "Understood commander"
The retreating guardsmen where dead men already, the Iron Warden would simply ensure that a worthwhile distraction would not be wasted.
Iron Wardens - By the will of the Gorgon
"Make war and move on, and again, and again, until nothing breathes which stands against us. All else is sophistry and pretty lies"
- Ferrus Manus, Primarch of the Xth Legion Iron Hands.

User avatar
MiniWarGaming Veteran
Posts: 184
Joined: Sun Nov 20, 2016 4:25 pm
Ribbons Earned: Has Completed 5 Painting Pledges

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Raschier » Fri Jun 02, 2017 7:53 pm

On the planet Z-246701

Red dust flying across the air, twin suns burning bright in the sky, plasma and electricity jolting across a red plain. X4v13R was walking straight across all this with a stern pace, in his mind the hyms and the orders given to them by the Omnissiah were playing. It was calming to know the Omnissiah was still with him and the rest of the army, it meant victory was assured. A large sandstorm was raging across the field, this was both a blessing and a curse, because both armies couldn't see or use their tech and visibility was reduced to a minimum, which meant that it covered the advance of the 7th Macroglade of Rostax, but the electricity and plasma were a taking a toll on the cybernetics and flesh, and casualties increased by the minute. X4v13R was not afraid for he knew that he would survive, for he was guided by the Omnissiah, so he continued until the were ordered to stop, this was where the Omnissiah told them to go, a hill a few hundred metres away from where the enemy was supposed to be, according to the Omnissiah. X4v13R layed on the ground, his rifle resting on the sand, he looked as the Vanguard and Dragoons moved forward, closer towards the enemy lines.

"These Alien Heretek would soon feel the wrath of the scions of Rostax, as they would not dare to move in a sandstorm, for they are not favoured by the Omnissiah. The Omnissiah sent this sandstorm, and the Omnissiah would stop it."
This went all through the head of X4v13r as he watched as the last of the Vanguard dissappeared in the storm. Then new orders came in through the data-tether.
"Sandstorm will dissappear in 2 minutes, open fire after 2 seconds towards the following coördinates N 51"51'08.7", for the Omnissiah!"
X4v13r kept looking over the barrel of his rifle, which was fixed towards the coördinates he was just given, the sand blowing in his black hood and ticking against his cybernetics, his mask and rebreather keeping the sand from flowing into his eyes. Then the last dust of sand blew past him and as his mask quickly readjusted to the increased light and decreased sand, he could see the Dragoons charging forward, the Vanguard laying in the sand close to the enemy lines, he could see big battlesuits, small battlesuits, tanks, speeders, infantry sprinting out of makeshift holes, towards these battlesuits, tanks, speeders, or into quickly dugged trenches. X4v13r picked his target, the sight in his mask adjusted to enhance his view, he put his left elbow into the sand, locked his cybernetic left arm to reduce recoil and started to shoot.

Onboard Adeptus Mechanicus Cruiser Glory of the Omnissiah

"You told me there was a STC on this planet!"

Tressos slammed his fist on the console. An unknown voice answered from the same console.
"I said no such thing, I merely told you that you get some clues on the whereabouts of an STC if you go towards this planet."
Tressos paced around his quarters.
"Well, we searched the whole planet and only found red dust and Tau! So either we didn't search good enough or you are lying, and I am more inclined towards the latter."
A short comm silence filled the dark quarters of Tressos, as if the voice was searching for words, it enfuriated Tressos even more and he was about to cut it off, but then the voice spoke again.
"Again, you only hear what you want to hear, I never said the clues were on the planet either, for someone who makes difficult machinery from his memory, you are not very good with remembering conversations."
Tressos wanted to throw a lot of curse words towards the voice, but the voice continued.
"I, or more precise my master has the clues, so as long as you do what my master wants you to do, you might receive them."
Tressos stopped, raised his axe and plunged it into some machinery. He started laughing sarcasticly.
"Ha ha ha, you are trying to treat me as some kind of servitor, letting me do all your dirty work, keeping me on a leash with some kind of STC that might or might not exist. I am no servitor, I am Dominus Tressos of the Forge World of Rostax! And I will not do all your dirty work, you played your hand, and I declare you, your master and your whole organisation enemies of Rostax!"
As Tressos finished his speach, the voice from the console started to speak.
"Tsk tsk, you are forgetting one thing Dominus, we own you know."

This comment peaked Tressos curiosity.
"We didn't choose you by accident Dominus, we know of your secrets."
"What secrets."

The confidence Tressos showed earlier dissappeared like snow in the sun.
"The planet Rostax has a treaty with its neighbouring planet Zynix, this treaty is ancient, it was made even before the Great Crusade arrived in your system. It was the peace treaty between Rostax and Zynix after the former won a big war. In this treaty the planet Zynix would donate every firstborn when it would come of age towards the Forge world of Rostax, so they could either work at the forges as servitors or serve in its legion as Skitarii, and Rostax would not take anymore humans from Zynix, except those firstborn."
A bit of confidence returned to Tressos as he heared this so called secret.
"Ha, that is no secret, the Imperium even approved! For it was a signed treaty, made before the Crusade came and it helps with keeping order and population in check on Zynix! Now if you have more so called secrets to tell me, just write me a note this conversation is over."
And as Tressos reached for the off button, the voice from the console replied in a cold, gleefull tone.
"The treaty only remains legal if both parties keep to the agreed terms, and you, Dominus Tressos, have been ignoring these terms for quite some time now, don't you."
Tressos frooze, nobody should have known this, his army removes every trace and makes it look like a Xenos raid. If the rest of the Magos would know about this, it would mean a demotion, he would be made a common techpriest again.
"I knew this would get your attention, and this is only one of your smaller secrets, so you still want to get out?"
Tressos kicked against a steampipe, bending it in the process. His processors were glowing red, just like the lenses in his eyes.
"An alliance made off blackmail will never last long."
Tressos had to struggle to keep his anger back as he spoke.
"Ha, this is not an alliance, see it more as a work relation, my master is the employer and you Dominus, are the employee. And if you perform good work, the STC can be yours."
Tressos took a deep breath.
"Yes ofcourse, do you have any new orders for me, boss?"
The sarcasm dripped from his words. The voice ignored it and answers.
"As a matter of fact, yes. You are to redeploy your Macroglade towards the planet X-77975, the Conclave has called for a small crusade to retake this planet from insurgents. You are to help the loyalists and find out what the Conclave finds so important about this planet. Hurry though because you are late to this party already. Don't dissappoint us."
And with these last words the console screeched and the voice was gone.
Tressos let out a scream of frustration.

After letting out, quite literraly, some steam, he called for one of his techpriest proteges.
"Dris, come in here!"
A techpriest entered the quarters of Tressos. The techpriest had a servo arm attached to his back and was covert in cybernetics, which were poorly hidden behind a ragged and dirty blue cloak.
"Yes Tr3ss05?"
"What is the status on the ground?"

"The sandstorm took a toll on the third cohort, but they managed to finally catch and defeat the last remaining Tau forces, which had no time to prepare or run, because of the sandstorm covering the approach. They are now searching for clues."
"Call everyone back we are leaving. Our job here is done, the Omnissiah wills it."
"Right away sir. What is our next destination?"

User avatar
MiniWarGaming Zealot
Posts: 397
Joined: Mon Mar 09, 2015 1:22 am

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Acanthus » Fri Jun 02, 2017 9:14 pm

Bridge of the Fortis Praefectum

The bridge was, as always, well ordered, when Valorum arrived. Human serfs attended quietly to their duties, working alongside their fellow mortals and the servitors that lined the consoles. Here and their, a Space Marine attended to those duties too complex to be entrusted to a human, while acolytes popped in and out of the various doors, bearing tools and messages with them.

Above it all stood Celcon, Master of the Fleet. Like his lord, he was pale, gaunt, and shadow-eyed, but that was where the similarities ended. Celcon, unlike Valorum, was of average height for a Space Marine, and he neither wore a beard nor sported hair. He was, above all, austere.

Hearing the Chapter Master's approach, Celcon inclined his head. "My lord," he said. "I had hoped you would arrive soon. I have already made contact with the PDF Admiral, and informed him of the basics of our plan. I did not, however, tell him of the Tenth Company's role. I felt it would be best that none outside the Adeptus Astartes be privy to the full details of the plan. The Stalwart Guide has been dispatched to transport the Tenth to the upper atmosphere, where they will deploy via Stormravens. Arren and fifty of the First are being held in the Oath of Albia, waiting for the teleportation command. The rest of the Veterans have been dispersed throughout the various strike cruisers, and are prepared to engage in drop pod assault. I have taken the liberty of holding the Iron Will and the Unassailable in reserve, along with their full complements of Astartes. I assumed you will make use of the Fifth and Eighth in the second assault, and decided it would be best to keep them in orbit, from where they can deploy most quickly."

Valorum nodded. "Excellent work, Celcon. Is there anything else?"

"Yes, my lord. A portion of the Iron Wardens fleet has also arrived in-system. I made contact with their First Captain, Auron, and informed him of our plan. They are moving into position."

If Valorum was surprised, he did not show it. "The Wardens. Great warriors." He glanced at the holo-map of the valleys that would be the sight of the initial assault. "How goes the retreat below?"

Celcon indicated the edge of the valleys. "If we deploy drop pods now, my lord, we will catch the cultists just as the guardsmen reach the desired target zone."

Valorum paused a moment, considering. "The Tenth is nearing position?"

"Yes, Chapter Master."

"Good. Give the order to launch drop pods. Cvriac and Gerodus will share the command. I will remain here with my honor guard and the detachment of veterans until we have found the stronghold of the enemy. Once I depart, Celcon, you have my permission to take any measures you feel necessary. I bestow upon you the Mantle of the Warden."

Celcon looked stunned, falling to one knee. "My lord. I...I will not fail you."

Valorum regarded him. Whatever thoughts lay behind his cold eyes, none, not even the Librarians, could guess. But Celcon could have sworn he saw the ghost of a smile cross his commander's face.

"I know."
Last edited by Acanthus on Sun Jun 04, 2017 1:26 am, edited 1 time in total.
Helios Guard-Chapter Master Acanthus Valorum

"There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man."
-George RR Martin.

User avatar
Lives, breathes, and eats MiniWarGaming
Posts: 1495
Joined: Thu Feb 26, 2015 1:54 pm

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Signet-Powers » Sat Jun 03, 2017 1:15 pm

A volley of artillery followed the retreating Imperials. At first it was roughly aimed at the valley in general, but as the cultist soldiers gave chase it became a lot more accurate. The vox-caster carrying soldiers relayed information to mortars, earthshaker cannon emplacements and artillery carriages hidden in the mountains.

Felman emerged from the greatest tunnel entrance, high enough that from the top of the fortified walls he could get a solid view of the battlefield. The Valleys stretched on to the horizon. Plumes of smoke and flashing lights twinkled below. Like the night sky.
But there was a pattern to it. His men, his soldiers, his army, they were pushing up. the lasfire from their own forces was calm and paced. Surrounding the Imperial force from higher ground. The enemies lasfire was a mess by comparison. Panicked and showing no real sign of a front-line.

“Lord Felman.” An officer greeted. “We have the conscript horde fully surrounded, the 17th has cut them off 3 miles north of here.”

Felman grinned. “Excellent, these loyalist dogs know only suspicion and paranoia. They don’t allow their regiments to mix with others you see, it can take hours, days even for them to request help form each other. It’ll be a while before they come to the conscripts rescue. Their own men, men and women, innocents they’re forcing to fight their battles for them! Disgusting isn’t it! Does it not make you feel sick?”

The officer nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Inform the 17th to hold position and give them priority for any support requests you deem necessary.”

“Yes sir. Should I send further assistance to our men actually in the Valley.”

“No need. Torunn and his Grenadiers are leading the battle.”

“…” the officer swallowed. “Of course sir.”

He noticed that pause. “Do you want to say something?”

“No, no I-“

“Come on, out with it. if it’s worth saying, let it be heard.”

“It’s just, they don’t wear Armor sir, no a shirt. In this weather, and with a war going on shouldn’t everyone be wearing full kit. I mean, even yourself, you’re exposed, if a sniper was to-“

Felman laughed and patted the officers shoulders. “Haha, of course, you’re new are you?”

“Before the Imperials arrived I was down near Reas-Caoul city. I came up here with the rest of my sect once we heard your call to fortify.”

“Well, my son, let me share with you some wisdom. We are outnumbered more than 10 to 1 on this planet, and yet their casualties outnumber ours even more so. And do you know why?”


“It’s because of our faith. Our faith in the one true and worthy god, not the Emperor, but Khorne. His faith is shown through us in more than just violence as the enemy would accuse us of. It’s shown in bravery, courage and justice.”

“I understand but… why do you and the rest of the champions discard armor so?”

Felman looked out to the valley. “Because it is the Lord Khorne who decides when it is we die, my son. And if we don’t die until the God of War wishes it, why bother with Armor?”
“AAAARGH!” the guardsmen fell over, his leg blown off. He tried to crawl, towards the rest of his fleeing men, but the figure reached him first.

Torunn dropped his rifle over his shoulder sling and held the soldier by the collar. “Where are you going?”

“No!” the Guardsman begged. “please, no! I didn’t mean it, they made me shoot- I- I have a family, I have a child Please! No! Please I don’t want to die! I don’t want to die-“

Torunn raised his axe high.


He brought it down onto the guardsman’s neck. He liked to keep it blunt. That way he really had to chop at it. Over and over. Feeling every bit. Every inch of muscle. Every spasm of resistance as it shivered up the blades edge and through his arm. When the man’s head finally came off, he kicked it down the hill and spat after it.

He looked up at the rest of that Guardsman’s company. His grenadiers had pushed up, hot-shots cutting them down. He had such a weapon or himself. A gift for he and his veterans from their Dominion suppliers. Suppliers Felman wouldn’t reveal to him.

It irked him that he didn’t know who they were. had their days together back when they had been in the Imperial guard, all those many years ago, meant nothing? Not that he couldn’t hazard a guess, though to be truthful he had other things on his mind right now.

The conscripts had nowhere to go, the companies at the front trying to flee to the back, the companies at the back realising that they were surrounded and trying to flee back to the front. Thousands of them, trapped in these valleys as the Khornate soldiers fired down at them.

Torunn eyed a new target, another couple hundred Guardsmen amongst the trenches far across from him. He could just about make out the commissar amongst them, one of the last. Trying to keep what precious order they could. “We have a new target lads!”

The grenadiers grinned eagerly. The combat drugs had removed any sort of tiredness they should be feeling. A potent mixture of steroids and methamphetamines. They were literally salivating at his words.

A few vox-calls later and lasfire from all directions was pouring down on the trenches. The surprise the return fire was somewhat organised. Focusing where it needed to. That’s wasn’t too surprising though, the conscripts were weak but they weren’t idiots.

But they also weren’t backed up by artillery support. Mortars rained down on the trenches. Bits of screaming soldiers were blown into the air. Poisoned gas flooded down on them and heavy bolter fire shredded their morale. Torunn had barely noticed when he and the grenadiers started to charge.

Soon so much smoke and dust had come down that no one could see anything. He stumbled into the trenches, rolling on the floor. Guardsmen yelled when they noticed but it was too late. He swung his axe into the nearest man’s gut as his grenadiers joined the Frey.

He shoved past the guardsmen in his way, most too busy trying to flee or dying to dare fight him. He searched until he found the Commissar, standing by a beacon of some sort. Before he even knew she’d noticed him, her bolt pistol was raised with both hands and the trigger pulled.

He narrowly dodged the round, t hitting one of his grenadiers behind him. Not wanting not waste another millisecond, he threw his axe with tremendous force.

It lodged into her carapace cuirass, knocking her back but not killing her. She gasped, bringing her energy sword out of its scabbard just in time for his follow up attack.

His back up blade struck her sword and bounced off. She readied it for another attack, activating it. He grinned and paced back to the left and right. “Well you’re a brave little girl but it’s a little arrogant isn’t it? Your forces are beyond saving.”

“You speak of what you don’t know!” she scowled.

He span his blade in his fingers and his voice grew stern. “If you’re going to come at me with that, you better hope it kills me, because if it doesn’t I swear…”

She cocked her head. “Oh, I won’t even need to.”

He ran his tongue across his upper teeth. “If you w-“

Then he noticed it. From the heavens. Guided by the beacon she was guarding with her life.

Drop pods.

User avatar
MiniWarGaming Zealot
Posts: 397
Joined: Mon Mar 09, 2015 1:22 am

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Acanthus » Sun Jun 04, 2017 1:25 am

One drop pod, black where the others were bone and red, slammed down within yards of the beacon. Dirt and rock exploded fifty feet into the air, before raining back down onto the hull of the pod.

The Commissar forgotten, Torunn screamed at a group of grenadiers. "Get over here, you worthless warp-bait! More loyalist scum to feed our god!" Fearless as ever, the Khornates charged the pod. Torunn's blood pumped, his heart pounded. This was what he lived for, this moment at the beginning of a charge. A great slaughter awaited him, and he would enjoy every moment of it.

Then, the doors slammed open. A ball of plasma erupted from the pod. And Torunn and his warriors disappeared.

Feet pounding, pistons firing, Gerodus, Reclusiarch of the Helios Guard, strode down the ramp. across the front of his dreadnought sarcophagus was emblazoned a massive black eagle, and his red right arm had been converted into a plasma cannon. To either side of him, a combat squad of Sternguard veterans fanned out, bolters raised and loaded with kraken bolts and hellfire rounds. One, armed with a heavy flamer, unleashed a gout of fire at a group of wounded cultists as they feebly crawled towards him. The fallen warriors writhed and kicked, but they burned all the same.

The Commissar, unshaken at the sight of these warrior-angels, placed a fist on her chest. "My lord. Thank the Emperor for your arrival. I hope my men and I have performed to you satisfaction."

Gerodus regarded her briefly. A small woman, to be sure, but there was iron in her, an unyielding will and faith that could not be questioned. He was satisfied. She would remain in command. "Indeed, Commissar. You did as you were commanded, and for that, you have my thanks. But your task is not yet done. Pull your troops to the high ground at the edges of the valleys. My brothers and the Iron Wardens will cover your retreat."

The Commissar looked hesitant. "My lord, surely we can be of some further use on the battlefield?"

"Commissar. Your men are soldiers through and through, but they are still human. We can ill afford pointless losses at this stage. Your placement along the ridges is vital to the success of this operation. Go."

The Commissar hesitated again, but, finally, she nodded, turning away and barking orders into the vox as she did.

Gerodus did not watch her go. Instead, he spoke to his brothers over the vox; Strenguard squad Qarn and Venerable Brother Adalricus.

"Cut a path to Captain Cvriac. We will allow some to escape, but we will decimate the rest. Forward, brothers. No mercy No respite. We endure."


"We endure!"

Cvriac's battle-cry rang out across the field through his armor's exterior speakers. Around him, his command squad, veterans of a thousand battles, carved their way through a tide of Khornates. Olton Dioz, the Veteran sergeant, took blows on his shield and hacked away with his axe. Erius Haniir, Company Champion, was cold, clinical, and precise as ever, hacking off limbs and heads with methodical efficiency. Valk Dorian, the apothecary, staved in skulls with his maul, his eyes alert behind his helm for wounded loyalists. Brom Midas, also armed with a maul and shield, was to the captain's left, battering back a wave of berserk cultists again and again. Behind them all stood Farian Makav, the Ancient, who bore the standard of the Second aloft. The honorific of the Company, "The Eventide Warriors," was carefully stitched in elegant scrollwork along the banner's bottom. In its presence, the resolve of all present was bolstered.

Cvriac drove his lightning claw through a raging cultist, pulping with his power fist. Further down the hill, more Space Marines of the Second Company were engaged in short range firefights and melee combat. The Third and Sixth Companies were arrayed to the east and west of the Second, respectively. The Ninth, meanwhile, had taken position along the edges of the valley, supported by the rallying Guardsmen, and was raining hell down upon the cultists. Elements of the First had also made the landing, supporting both their battle-brothers and their human allies wherever they were needed. Across the valley, the Iron Wardens had made their landing, cutting a swathe through the cultist with mechanical efficiency. Much like the Helios Guard, the Wardens were resilient in nature and relentless in combat. Unlike the Helios Guard, though, the Wardens fought in a calculated and mechanical manner. Where the Guard were tireless, dogged, and grim, the Wardens were coldly and brutally mechanical. Still, they were undeniably brilliant warriors. Cvriac almost relished the prospect of crossing blades with such fighters.

He was snapped out of his brief reverie by a charge of cultists. Dioz, Haniir, and Midas locked their shields, while Dorian moved to stand at an angle behind his sergeant. Cvriac, meanwhile, vaulted directly into the mass of cultists. Before they could react, four of the first wave were down, shredded or crushed. A fifth managed to take a swing, but his chainaxe was turned aside by a flick of a lightning claw, which was, a second later, rammed through his heart and lungs. Two more went for Cvriac's legs; one received a brutal kick that shattered his spine and ribs, while the other as pinned beneath an armored boot and crushed. To Cvriac's left, Dorian picked a cultist up by the throat, and, with a twist, ended his struggles. Dioz cleaved a screaming warrior from head to toe, while Makav raised the banner ever higher as he cut his way through two cultists.

Suddenly, Midas' status-rune flashed red. Cvriac turned towards him and saw that the Veteran was bleeding heavily from the impact of an armor-piercing round against his left bicep. True to his status as a warrior of the Helios Guard, Midas did not cry out. Instead, he raised his shield, advanced on the cultist with the heavy gun, and tore him to bloody ribbons.

"Midas, are you alright?" Cvriac barked.

"A flea bite, captain. Nothing more."

"Dorian, examine him. We will guard you."

The apothecary nodded, rushing over to Midas as Dioz, Haniir, Cvriac, and Makav formed a semicircle around them. With the brief respite, Cvriac activated his vox-bead. "Daros, status?"

The Third Captain's response came a moment later. Daros, as always, right on time. "As we expected. The cultists were unprepared, and we are cutting them down."

Cvriac smiled slightly. "Good. Remember the rendezvous point. I'll see you there, brother."

"I'll be waiting."

Cvriac started. A jibe? From Daros? Things must be going well.

His amusement over, Cvriac opened a taskforce-wide channel. "Continue as planned, brothers. We will push them back to their holes, and finish this heresy once and for all!" He paused for a moment, shattering the bodies of two cultists while carving apart a third. That complete, he finished his transmission.

"We bring the dawn! We bring death!"
Helios Guard-Chapter Master Acanthus Valorum

"There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man."
-George RR Martin.

User avatar
Lives, breathes, and eats MiniWarGaming
Posts: 1495
Joined: Thu Feb 26, 2015 1:54 pm

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Signet-Powers » Sun Jun 04, 2017 11:50 am

Damien pulled at the cuffs. He was shackled to a girder, still in the tunnels, the cultists having been too eager to fight to throw him in a proper cell. They definitely had cells. He’d seen them leading down a number of prisoners deeper into the mountains.

There were soldiers running back and forth, but few paid any attention to him. He kept his voice down, hoping not to get noticed. But whereas before they’d been running out of the tunnels, now they seemed to be running back down. The leader came with them, the man from before. Felman.

Damien watched in silence as he argued with his men. He looked angry, furious, enough so to make the cultists that had been so ready to fight moments ago shake in fear. “HOW MANY?”

“We-we don’t know sir,“ an officer stammered, “they just came out of nowhere we couldn’t-“

“Enough!” he hissed. “No more excuses. Tell whoever’s down there to delay them for as long as possible- YOU!” he pointed to another officer now. “I want every single piece of artillery bringing down everything you can on those Astartes!”

Damiens hairs stood on the back of his neck. Astartes? That couldn’t be right. He must have missheard. Astartes aren’t real, they were the stuff of legend, stories you told children to scare them at night. That couldn’t be what he just said. It had to be some sort of nickname or something, surely?

“B-but sir!” what must have been the artillery officer cried back. “If we fire everything we can’t remain mobile, they’ll be able to figure out where our pieces are firing from and take us out-“

“If they get to the tunnel before we can get the beasts up and running we’ll all be dead anyway! The Earthshaker platforms can actually kill them, make sure they do!”

Beasts? Damien began to really wish he was out of these shackles. What in the warp is going on?

“There’s too much interference- they're moving too much, we won’t be able to draw a proper target-“

“Get. To. It.”

“My lord I must insist!” a particularly brave officer put forward. “The men wish to surrender!”

Felman reared on him. “Is that a joke?”

“But if we allow those in the valley to surrender, we can consolidate our defences, give ourselves time to plan out-“

“There will be no surrender.”

“But they can’t fight Space Marines! No one can!”

“Then let’s motivate them, shall we?”

Before the officer could run, his head was severed, hitting the floor before his body did. The other officers stared in disbelief at what had just happened. Damien felt his throat clench up. Felman strapped his machete back onto his belt and surveyed everyone around the room, all eyes now on him. “Bring the remaining prisoners to the Hereteks Vault. Tell him I want the beasts fuelled and ready in the hour. If the Imperials can bring in monsters, so can we.”

He marched back up and out the tunnels, followed by a cohort of nervous cultist. The few that were too scared to move were forced by others to inhale some sort of crystalline substance, giving them enough of a boost to overcome their senses and get moving.

Soon, aside from the few cultists that ran past every minute or so, it was just him and the corpse. Well, that and one of the officers. Still staring sheepishly at it.

“Hey?” Damien tried. The officer didn’t respond. “Hey. Hey!”

He looked up. Snarling suspiciously. “What do you want?”

“What’s going on?”

The officer seemed to move like he was about to snarl something else, but didn’t. He paused. Then said “Nothing for you to concern yourself with.”

“He said space marines. What does that mean?”

“Nothing, it’s… I don’t know, shut up!”

“But he said marines!”

“Shut up!”

“What are the beasts? What does he mean? What’s going on?”

The officer approached him, fists clenched, clearly distressed. “I said you need to shut u-“

Damien kicked his legs out from under him. The man fell and hit the floor with a thud. He cursed and tried to scramble back up. Damien kicked again, swiping this time, throwing his whole bodyweight into it.

The officer rolled over. Damien kicked and kicked, over and over, untill he was fairly sure the man was unconscious.

He heard movement. Another company of soldiers running up to reach the battle. He had to be quick.

He had maybe a minute if he was lucky.

He Dragged the man over with his legs. It strained him to do so. He hadn’t expected him to be this heavy. Regardless he was soon close enough. Enough so that he could reach into his pocket.

But he wouldn’t have time to search for a key. There might not even be a key. So he went for the next best thing, a laspistol strapped into its holster. He fumbled it about in his cuffed hands, unable to see behind his back. When he was sure it was right, he closed his eyes tight and whispered. “Emperor please, if this works I promise I’ll never have pre-marital coitus again!” he hesitated. “…maybe.”

He pulled the trigger and the cuff exploded. Along with the girder. He cursed as he shot up, a searing pain across his lower back. It hurt, but hadn’t injured him. He allowed himself a small fist pump of victory before legging it as fast as his legs could take him.

He wasn’t sure where he was going to go. Heading up would take him outside, not somewhere he wanted to be. Heading down would take him to whatever it was that leader had been referring to. The ‘beasts’. So he chose a tunnel that didn’t seem to go up or down a level and took it, laspistol at the ready. He turned it over in his hands, studying it as he ran.

A number ran down the side, 450,025,665,764-M36-KANTRAEL_KESTRAL_/DD:2/-45. A serial number perhaps? He’d heard rumours of some of secretive weapons suppliers giving guns to cultists across the Eastern Front. He didn’t really have time to care though. It would only be a manner of moments before those soldiers woke that officer up and came looking for him.

Savages. They’d been all too happy to lecture about bravery and courage when they had the advantage, able to slaughter without consequence. Now, the instant the tables had turned, they’d lost their calm and were taking it out on each other. The way Felman had just killed his own man, without reason, without hesitating.

He didn’t want to think about it. he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. He’d heard talk of prisoners, perhaps he might find them? Distracted by his thoughts, he barely noticed when two cultists emerged form a door in front of him. “yeah, and that’s why we-“

A pause. Looking each other in the eye. Them, with their snowy camoflauge uniforms and lasguns suspended on straps, faces with Khornate tattoos and piercings all over them. Him with the navy-blue longcoat, a laspistol in his hands and nothing more than a 5 o-clock shadow to show off.

He’d gotten of the first few shots, huge holes ripping chunks out of them and blowing off limbs. As the cultists panicked and ran for cover, he took the initiative. Sliding forward and grabbing one of their weapons. It was twice as heavy as a normal lasgun, yet he pulled the trigger all the same.

He was taken aback by how powerful it was, not as powerful as a bolt-pistol by any means but more powerful than the M35 lasguns the conscripts had been given. Panicked red beams returned in his direction but he aimed calmly, adrenaline in control, and cut the three of them down.

They were dead but more surely heard. “Ah well…” he muttered grimly to himself. “If I’m going to die, I won’t be doing it in a cell!”.
He checked the bodies for ammo-packs and stuffed them into his pockets, just as more cultist turned up to investigate. He raised his new rifle and unloaded on them.

MiniWarGaming Veteran
Posts: 161
Joined: Wed Nov 05, 2014 1:55 pm

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Driedguide42 » Sun Jun 04, 2017 5:07 pm

The first wave of the Iron Wardens had consisted of the 9th company detachment assigned to the strike force. Venerable Calgos had dropped in with 11 of his fellow Dreadnoughts and had smashed the traitors aside. The mechanised giants tore into the mortals with power fist and seismic hammer and immolated with heavy fire. Those that did flee before them were cut down by assault,plasma and lascanons. They had been reinforced by the tactical and assault marines of the 3rd company lead by Captain Varath. He had ran full pelt into the swarm of enemies cutting with both storm bloter and axe.

Now the enemy guns were beginning to show themselves. Morter and heavy ordinance was being flung at both strike forces. Space marines both Helios Guard and Iron Warden were thrown several meters by shells. The more sturdy dreadnoughts were unaffected for the most part as only a direct hit could do any damage to them and they were far faster then their size would initially suggest. Calgos utilised the machine spirit of his contemptor chassis to improve the sensors. He tracked the arcs of the shells and sent a data burst up to the Wrath which was in high orbit.

Bridge of the Gorgons Wrath

Torval stood at the holo table watching the battle from above. The Wrath had been specifically constructed as command and control vessel and such the adepts of Mars had blessed it with some the most advanced sensors and data cogitators the imperium could provide. As such it was simple to find the area where the insurgents had placed their long range batteries utilising the data provided by ground forces. The doors opened as Lieutenant Mallis joined the Lord at the table and nodded in greeting. His grey mark 6 armour contrasting the red armour of senior techmarine.

Mallis "just got off the vox with captain Auron, he wants to lunch our second wave as possible. Are we close to taking out that flakk"

Torval adjusted the feed to highlight the primary site of the guns currently attempting to stem the strike force of Astartes. His reply was heavily synthesised by his ever present helm.

Torval "While the Force commander has been sat in the void the attack has progressed well and the traitors have played their hand."

Mallis "Brother humour is not your forte"

Torval "Noted" the techmarine enhanced the image of an artillery piece "the chaplain and his spear head will soon tear them apart. However this simulated image shows the type of gun the enemy is utilising" The image grew into a miniature Basilisk gun track.

Mallis "But the data of this planets available forces shows..."

Torval "..that such guns shouldn't be apart of insurgents forces. However given the fact that the data has been gathered by both casualties and what our brothers have seen there is little room for error."

Mallis turned to leave the bridge "I will vox the captain and inform him, give Thortes the all clear and transmit that data to the Fortis Praefectum"

Toval nodded and went to his work.
Traitor Gun Battery Designation Prime

The mortals were busy feeding ammunition to the verity of guns that their benefactors had provided. The imperials fresh assault meant there was an air barely controlled panic as the gun crews worked to keep up the barrage. Suddenly ethereal green energy appeared out of seemingly nowhere and exploded sending people flying head over heels. As the gun crews pulled them selves up they were greeted by grey giants with massive red fists and wicked double barrelled guns. Amongst their number a black giant with skull helmet rose an Aquila headed mace to the heavens.
Thortes "By the will of the Gorgon"
And the entire area became a sea of fire and blood.
Iron Wardens - By the will of the Gorgon
"Make war and move on, and again, and again, until nothing breathes which stands against us. All else is sophistry and pretty lies"
- Ferrus Manus, Primarch of the Xth Legion Iron Hands.

User avatar
MiniWarGaming Zealot
Posts: 397
Joined: Mon Mar 09, 2015 1:22 am

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Acanthus » Mon Jun 05, 2017 12:06 am

Daros barely managed to avoid the artillery blast that immolated two of his Third Company and wounded a third. Aside form the artillery, things were going well. The Third had linked up with elements of the Iron Wardens' Ninth, providing a mobile fire base for the dreadnoughts, who unleashed the fury of their long-range weapons. In their wake was a sea of shattered corpses, while, on the ridges, the guardsmen had begun to avenge their previous losses with consummate skill. Cvriac and the Second were still to the west of his position, but had managed to join with Devitan of the Sixth and Gerodus' elite strike force. Now all that remained was for Daros and the Iron Wardens to join the main force, and push the traitors out to the south, back to their stronghold.

Another blast, further to his left. An Iron Warden lost his leg, and a Helios Guard's chest was shattered. Despite his grievous wounds, the Marine struggled to one knee, firing his bolt pistol one-handed while an apothecary rushed over.

Daros raised his plasma pistol, and a blue ball of superheated gas lanced from the barrel. A cultist's stomach disappeared, but his comrades pushed his spawning body aside, firing shotguns directly at Daros as they charged. The shots pinged off his artificer armor, barely scraping the paint, as the Third Captain rushed to meet them. Accustomed to Ork-fighting, he had little trouble in overpowering the first two together, clubbing one with the butt of his pistol while crushing the torso of the other in his power fist. A close range plasma pistol shot burned off the head of another, while a fourth tried to circle around behind Daros as his comrade distracted him.

The captain was not fooled. Spinning more quickly than the eye could follow, Daros kicked out with his left foot, shattering the legs of the cultist and leaving him to writhe, helpless, on the ground. The rest of the cultists had almost reached him when he turned around, but three quick shots brought down three of the leaders and left their comrades burned and blistered.

From behind him, a squad of assault marines activated their jump packs, soaring effortlessly over his head and into the mass of cultists. The afterburners incinerated several, while chainswords, flamers, and bolt pistols claimed a dozen more within seconds. Though still somewhat under strength, the Third was comprised of bitter, battle-hardened warriors all, and Daros knew that, when called to battle, his men were the equals of any in the First.

The artillery had lessened in intensity now, and Daros knew that the Iron Wardens had done their part. Now it was his turn.

"Brothers! Forward, to Captain Cvriac! This ends now!"

The final push began.
Helios Guard-Chapter Master Acanthus Valorum

"There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man."
-George RR Martin.

User avatar
MiniWarGaming Veteran
Posts: 184
Joined: Sun Nov 20, 2016 4:25 pm
Ribbons Earned: Has Completed 5 Painting Pledges

Re: Only the dead will see the end - RP narrative, season 2.

Post by Raschier » Mon Jun 05, 2017 10:33 am

Aboard the Glory of the Omnissiah in Warpspace

Tressos sat on his captains chair on the deck, he was watching the crew of servitors and techpriests as they were keeping the ship oncourse, looking for faulty mechanism and potential errors in the Geller fields. As he sat there and quickly reviewed any piece of information sent to him by his crew, Dris called for his attention. Tressos puts his mind solely towards his protege and blocks the rest of the information sent to him, then answered.

"What is it Dris?"
"Someone sent reports to us, flagged as crucially important, regarding our destination and about two Astartes Chapters."
"So what is the problem? Sent them to me."
"Ofcourse sir, but..."

The techpriest hesitated to continue.
"Out with it Dris, I don't have time for your mumbling."
"Sir, these reports contain highly secretive information from the archives of Rostax, and it layout and codes are all in the proper Adeptus Mechanicus approved form, but the sender is of an unknown source."
"Don't concern yourself with these things Dris, the source is unknown because you don't have to proper authorizations. Now go sent those reports and be gone, I have more important things to do."

Dris nodded and scurried off. That was close, he had to reprogram Dris so he would not make any more of those observations.

A few minutes later the reports are sent towards Tressos. He opened the first report, it was about the Astartes Chapter The Iron Wardens, a Iron Hands successor, implegible service record, good relation with Adeptus Mechanicus. This was a good thing Tressos taught, they will appreciate me coming. The next report is about the Helios Guard. The chapter is led by Acanthus Valorum, an old Deathwatch veteran, their chapter has not been at full strength since the great Warp rift. Tressos didn't have much love for the order of Xenos Hunters, while he despised the alien for there misuse of technology, they hated the alien for not being human and everything that comes with that, they even destroy their technology, which was a grave mistake according to Tressos, because we can learn a lot about their tech. A sudden thought crossed Tressos' mind, this was probably also one of the secrets his employer had on him, his secret interest in alien tech, Tressos let out a small curse towards his employer, then continued to the next report. The planet X-77975, Govenor Russo has ownership over this planet and is in 'official' command of the loyalist forces, but he is actually just a puppet of the Conclave. The population itself has been in rebellion for quite some time, its leader is lord Fellman and he is a head of a noble house of the planet, and in secret was also the leader of a voilent cult dedicated towards the Chaos God Khorne. It seems that this report was editted, as a lot of information was added that were not in the official report that was archived. Like the fact that the cult is backed by its employee. Tressos laughed, he wasn't the only one it seems that was being used by his employee, and his mission finally made sense, he was to erase any trace of his employees involvement in this uprising, which meant the use of radio-active weaponry was allowed. The planet would be a radio-active waste when he was done with place, Tressos doesn't really cares though, the acquisition of the STC is all that matters and if that meant he had to make a planet almost unlivable, then so be it.

Tressos thought process was interrupted by the announcement of his navigational priest.
"We have reached our destination, shall leave warp space now."
The warp dissappeared before Tressos eyes, he stood up and as the Geller field was lowered he saw the fleets from the others already orbiting the planet. Tressos turns towards Dris, who was sitting several meters away from him, progressing data from a monitor.
"Dris, start scanning the planet, search for a good landing place, close to the fighting."
Dris nodded and started processing data from the planet.
Tressos then adressed the comm-servitor.
"Put me on a frequency so all can hear me."
The servitor nodded, turned around and pressed several buttons, he then turned back towards Tressos and nodded.
Tressos cleared his throat and started to speak.
"Warriors, civilians and politicians of planet X-77975. Rostax answers your request of assistance and has sent me, Dominus Magos Tressos and my 7th Macroglade to put down this insurgency. I will make sure that there will be no trace left of these Hereticts when we are done!"
He looked towards his comm-servitor, who immediately turned of the comm. He then turned his gaze towards Dris.
"Have you found something yet, Dris?"
"Yes sir, it is only a few miles away from the frontline."
"Good, signal the rest of our fleet, tell them to immediately start with landing protocol Beta-12-Gamma."

Tressos sat back in his command chair, and starts progressing all the data of his fleet again. He would oversee his army from that very chair so he would be sure that everything was done as it was supposed to go, cause he didn't want to end up like those cultist, trapped and betrayed.


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest