This is the Liber Astartes, PART II

[Conn Eremon]

As a curiosity, did the Houses bit sound interesting at all? It is something I have been worried about when it comes time to put my Sovereign Knights to the true test, i.e. you C&C people.

[deathspectersgt7]

I thought it did.

[Madwolf Shadowmane]

It captured my attention. 

[Olis]

As a curiosity, did the Houses bit sound interesting at all? It is something I have been worried about when it comes time to put my Sovereign Knights to the true test, i.e. you C&C people.

 

The Houses part was an extra layer of detail, I think. It adds an extra dimension to the psychology of the serf and the astartes in the piece. Done well, I believe the idea could be a great asset to the Sovereign Knights.

[Ace Debonair]

The Houses idea sounds alright. I'd say go for it.

 

On a slightly different note, I'm now imagining a boxing match between myself and Cormac resembling something from the Princess Bride:

 

 

"You've clearly studied your Ga'rask Savaz very well, Cormac. My left jabs aren't even getting through your defences."

 

"Thank you. I studied quite hard, and I'm good at reading my opponents."

 

"As I can clearly see! ...And yet, there is something that you do not know."

 

"And what is that, exactly, Ace?"

 

"I am not left-handed."

 

*Fight goes up a notch as Ace switches style, with Cormac going much more on the defensive*

 

"See, that's much harder to defend against. I see you too have studied the arts of boxing as taught by the Sovereign Knights?"

 

"Of course! I'm quite good at reading my opponents too, you know."

 

"And yet, there is something that you, also, do not know."

 

"Cormac, don't you dare steal my line."

 

"I am also not left-handed!"

 

"Why you little-"

 

*Fight goes up another notch as Cormac switches style as well, probably ending with Ace getting his nose reshaped again*

[Conn Eremon]

You wrote it, therefore it's in. :p

[Olis]

Ouch. Giving yourself a broken nose (via Cormac) was very self flagellatory of you Ace...

[Conn Eremon]

Cormac shifted his eyes from Ace, who was currently clutching his nose while he waited for his advanced Astartes blood to clot, to Olisredan, who was on the side of the ring, gesturing wildly and complaining that there weren't supposed to be any injuries. "That Olisredan, he can *fuss*."

Ace Debonair glanced up and followed Cormac's line of sight. He lowered his hand and sniffed. "Fuss, fuss... I think he like to scream at *us*."

Cormac shrugged. "Probably he means no *harm*."

Ace shook his head. "He's really very short on *charm*."

Cormac looked back at Ace, one eyebrow quirked up. "You have a great gift for rhyme."

Ace chuckled and walked over to slap a hand on Cormac's shoulder. "Yes, yes, some of the time."

 

As the two had talked, Olisredan had ducked under the ropes and entered the ring. He had his new volkite weapon out, its barrel pointed upwards. "Enough of that," he said, a scowl on his face.

Cormac looked at Olisredan, then upwards to the ceiling. "Ace Debonair, are there rocks ahead?"

Ace was looking up in the direction the volkite was pointing as well. "If there are, we all be dead."

Olisredan sighed with exasperation and lowered the gun into its holster before crossing his arms across his chest. "No more rhymes now, I mean it," he said, with more than sufficient authority in his voice.

With the exception, it would seem, for Ace. "Anybody want a peanut?"

"DYEEAAHHHHHH."

Edited January 2, 2014 by Cormac Airt

[Olis]

:lol:

[Aqui]

QFT!

[Ace Debonair]

Ouch. Giving yourself a broken nose (via Cormac) was very self flagellatory of you Ace...

I might be the only Liberite who worries about their avatar in a story being labelled as suffering from M.I.S.S.

So I have to counterbalance all the natural raw awesomeness that is myself with the occasional broken limb.

Although I'm not really very good at rhyming stuff. I'm more of a haiku guy, and even then I'm not very good at them.

After Ace's loss

Cormac celebrates his win

and Ace takes a nap

[Omega Striker]

*Omega wanders in, looks around, sees a lot of awesome has happened in the last two years, stands around waiting for more*

 

Good work, boys.  Just binged on the last 2 years of this.  Gotta say, pretty awesome.  Gonna have to write up some more for myself, in true lurker style!

[Dark Apostle Thirst]

A fine layer of dust had settled over the mausoleum. Over there stood a rack of armor, bare except for a few bored brushstrokes. Next to it was a table, holding up an unsealed can of magenta coloring and a brushed ruined by dried paint coating its bristles. The arches of the ceiling bore worry marks where boots had rested on them. A few data tablets, drained of energy, sat discarded alongside a golden melta on a simple wooden desk.

 

Dark Apostle Thirst's office sat much as it had the past few months - unused and inaccessible to all but the Moderator himself. Him, and his creation. His son, as Thirst had called him, before he had left.

 

Angelos was as silent as the room itself as he entered. He had followed the edicts of his creator, and now it was time for a visit. Looking at the unfinished armor, the creation considered quietly for a moment, then kicked it over.

 

So stuffy. The place was too quiet, too somber. He scoffed as his internal chronometer counted down.

 

3...

 

2...

 

1...

 

Reality warped, like a ripple. It hurt Angelos's visual sensors, but he didn't really care. Immediately, however, the room brightened as lights turned on, devices whirred up-

 

An animated claw gripped Thirst and shook him roughly. "Get on with the action, you self absorbed nitwit."

 

The Dark Apostle wrangled himself loose of his son's death grip. "Hey, hey,' he said, bemused. 'Nothing wrong with describing a triumphant return."

 

"Your office is mausoleum. How triumphant were you expecting?" Disapproval filled the living suit's tone.

 

"Have you ever SEEN the-"

 

"No time to argue. There's a quest going on."

 

"Oh?' Thirst asked, his curiosity piqued. He was surprised by the behavior of Angelos too, but decided not to question the development. 'What quest is this?"

 

The creation turned to the side, looking to the doors leading to the Liber. "Ace somehow found, serviced with, and killed an oven that... I honestly have no clue what kind of cooking machinery that thing was. He used a Vortex Grenade thou-"

 

"He did WHAT?' The Moderator grabbed the melta instantly. 'Who gave him access to that kind of weaponry? And where can I find that person?"

 

Animated gloves moved up and down in soothing motions as Angelos tried to explain. "Relax. It was necessary, and Ace was actually told no by Olisredan, but given access to other weaponry to destroy it. The frater was actually not using excessive force."

 

"It was an oven! He should have been able to wreck it with his bare hands!"

 

"They fired a lascannon at it, among other things, and it was still unscathed."

 

Thirst rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Fine, fine. So what's the quest?"

 

"The many-man apparently found a second floor to the Liber. Several Liberites are going down in search of replacement cutlery."

 

"Wait, so the quest is a shopping trip?"

 

"That's... a tad simplified, but yes, essentially.' The creation hesitated for a moment, then looked up to the rafters. 'Stay here for a moment."

 

Without another word Angelos rocketed up to a cranny in the ceiling, grabbed the package he had wrapped in generic marine themed wrapping paper, and flew back down. The Dark Apostle raised an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

 

"Well... Pater Fistmas came around and you were gone, so I filled in for you. Kept quiet, don't worry, made sure it looked like you were there then disappeared before anyone could ask questions. But the Pater didn't leave anything for you, so, um, I thought I would get you something." The creation awkwardly extended the present, his servoes whining as if in sympathy.

 

"You should get those oiled.' Thirst replied quietly, before taking the package, and setting it on the desk behind him. 'Funnily enough, I, ah..."

 

After a moment of trying and failing to find the appropriate words, the Mod snaps his fingers. Another ripple in reality, and a suspiciously similar package was deposited next to the first one. Picking it up, Thirst inspected it for a moment before handing it to his son.

 

"Merry late Fistmas. I... I missed you."

 

"I missed you too, father."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---------------------------------------------

 

I'm not entirely sure where all of that came from but I may be partaking in this quest of yours, Ace :D

[Ace Debonair]

Messor raised a hand, halting the Liberites behind him.

 

"Hold on a second. Something's not right here."

 

"It's just a corridor, Moderati. With respect, we've seen enough of the damn things." Reyner chuckled, shouldering his flamethrower.

 

Messor ignored him, moving forwards with a careful stealth that belied the bulk of his armour. Pausing about a third of the way down the corridor, he crouched and pressed heavily on a floorstone. Nothing happened. There might have been a snort of laughter behind him, or it might have been a cough. Either way, Messor tested the rest of the flagstones around it. One of them sank into the floor slightly, before moving aside to reveal a small, square pit.

 

"Emperor's ears, lads, you took your time."

 

Messor looked down the hole to see Ace, who had kept himself busy by carving handholds into the wall with his combat knife. He'd gotten about a quarter of the way up the pit.

 

"Ah, there you are. Anything to report?"

 

"It's perishing dark down here, moderati."

 

"Indeed. Reyner, double back to the Culinarium and see if anyone's got a ladder, would you?"

[securitas]

The Houses idea sounds alright. I'd say go for it.

 

On a slightly different note, I'm now imagining a boxing match between myself and Cormac resembling something from the Princess Bride:

 

 

"You've clearly studied your Ga'rask Savaz very well, Cormac. My left jabs aren't even getting through your defences."

 

"Thank you. I studied quite hard, and I'm good at reading my opponents."

 

"As I can clearly see! ...And yet, there is something that you do not know."

 

"And what is that, exactly, Ace?"

 

"I am not left-handed."

 

*Fight goes up a notch as Ace switches style, with Cormac going much more on the defensive*

 

"See, that's much harder to defend against. I see you too have studied the arts of boxing as taught by the Sovereign Knights?"

 

"Of course! I'm quite good at reading my opponents too, you know."

 

"And yet, there is something that you, also, do not know."

 

"Cormac, don't you dare steal my line."

 

"I am also not left-handed!"

 

"Why you little-"

 

*Fight goes up another notch as Cormac switches style as well, probably ending with Ace getting his nose reshaped again*

princess bride yeah

[Ace Debonair]

I'm not saying it's the greatest film in the history of the world or anything...

...But I am heavily implying it.

Remind me to challenge something or someone to a battle 'to the pain'.

[securitas]

i agree it is a great movie

iam only half dead

[Nomus Sardauk]

"You know, I'm really starting to hate teleportation."

 

As his senses returned to him, SanguiniusReborn couldn't help but think he'd somehow been cursed. As he slowly picked himself up off the cold floor he found himself in utter darkness, not even his Occulobe-enhanced night vision could penetrate the gloom more than a foot or so. He also noted the air was so thick with dust he reckoned to a mortal man it would be unbreathable.

 

"Complete darkness and suffocating air" He muttered, glancing irritably at the Blink Shield on his left wrist. "You always take me to such lovely places." As if to respond the device sputtered weakly before shutting down, apparently sitting in an armoury for centuries at a time inbetween uses wasn't good for battery life. "Bah, blasted hunk of junk! I've had shrapnel in my wounds that were more useful than you!" He hissed, considering tossing the device away for a moment before realising Olisredan (or more precisely, his Meltagun) would be rather 'displeased' to discover the Blood Angel had thrown away an irreplaceable relic of the Legio's armoury.

 

Grumbling he grabbed his helmet from where it was mag-locked to his waist and donned it once more. A moment later and his vision was illuminated by a glowing green HUD, the helmet's autosenses compensating for the lack of light and giving him a better look at his surroundings. This looked to have been an old storeroom, dirt and dust covered every surface and rusted crates were stacked high against the walls.

 

Quickly locating the exit he pryed the seized-up door open and stepped out into a corridor as neglected-looking as the room before, only this time something caught his eye. Laying slumped against a wall was the withered husk of what he presumed must have been a Serf, the top of it's skull blown off and a small bloodstained book in one hand. Carefully he slipped the tome from the cadaver's boney fingers and opened it, to his dismay the contents were mostly unintelligable as blood had seeped into the pages. However one entry in the very back was just readable;

 

"-ere's been no word from the rest of the Fortress-Monastery for five days and things are getting worse. Corta and his crew went to look for supplies yesterday and didn't return, plus some of the others say they've been hearing noises in the hallways at night. Uvenk snapped and ran off screaming he had to get out but every exit has been locked down, even the damn ventilations ducts are sealed. If the rest of the Legio doesn't unseal Level Secundus soon we'll all suffocate."

Edited February 8, 2014 by SanguiniusReborn

[Ace Debonair]

After thirty minutes of exchanging witty banter and waiting for Reyner to return, Messor and his squad of Liberites successfully lowered a ladder down to Ace. Unfortunately, in the process, they triggered another trap that dropped Shinzaren down a similar pit.

 

Finding Shinzaren less annoying than Ace, the Moderati elected to suspend Ace's rescue and remove the ladder until Shinzaren was duly back on surface level.

 

In the meantime, Ace passed the time by whittling some impromptu crampons out of the ruins of an old rope bridge that had been hurled down the pit in ages long gone.

 

 

The worst part? They hadn't even found the way down to the second floor of the Culinarium yet.

Messor wondered to himself, as Reyner and Shinzaren nearly clobbered Ace with the ladder, if the other party was faring better with Ludovic as their scout.

[Conn Eremon]

What's going on again? I think I got lost on which groups are going where.

 

I got some shenanigans planned, I am just not sure I know how far along we are on this quest.

Edited February 8, 2014 by Cormac Airt

[Aqui]

What's going on again? I think I got lost on which groups are going where.

I got some shenanigans planned, I am just not sure I know how far along we are on this quest.

Were it not for the fact that I'm lost myself, I'd have done a quick "Last time on This is the Liber Astartes"

[Conn Eremon]

Well, I'll try to figure it out at some point this weekend and make my post.

 

All I will say is that when I make my addition . . .

 

. . . one of you . . .

 

. . . will already be dead.

 

 

 

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BBJ_nfMopUs/Us1nsttvtAI/AAAAAAAADh4/QmE4hqtgqQY/s1600/1.gif

Edited February 8, 2014 by Cormac Airt

[Aqui]

I ain't scared. Look how many times various members of the Xmen have died. Prime? Starscream? All amateurs!

[Conn Eremon]

WAY TO STEAL MY THUNDER, GOD. :p Edited February 8, 2014 by Cormac Airt

[Ace Debonair]

I'm making it up as I go along.

I was hoping others would sort themselves into squads, with the whole 'volunteering for a quest' bit, but since nobody did, I want back to the ol' fashioned Liber route of making stuff up.

EDIT:

In short I don't know where we're up to either, aside from I've just climbed out of a pit.

Edited February 8, 2014 by Ace Debonair