General Discussion

[Sigismund229]

@Hesh Kadesh, I like the modifications you've made, the modified rules fit the Lions better than the originals! XD (and are more balanced). As you say, with those modifications the RoW meshes far better with the CL's special units. I'll look over the RoW some more once I've submitted my philosophy essay and had a go at re writing Hectarions, Maridius'&the Myramodons rules(as well as trying to settle on a second special character)

[Athrawes]

We should probably move the talk about rules and RoW to the Rules thread.

[Sigismund229]

Story I wrote for no purpose other than humour

An enormous cheer erupted from the members of the Lightning Bearers who were in attendance as their champion knocked Eritos of the XIX down onto the ground, the dust of Mycenae sullying his pearl white plate. Out of the corner of his eye, Hectarion thought he saw a small smile tug at the corners of Icarion's mouth and small scowl spoil the features of Pionius. Hectarion grinned. He couldn't help but find the brotherly rivalry that these celebrations brought to the fore amusing. Turning to Dear'dd, Hectarion said "What was that you were saying about Eritos' footwork and posture again brother?" causing Dear'dd to grunt and reply "I knew I shouldn't have started betting with you on matters of warfare..." causing Hectarion to shrug and say "Not my fault I'm the most experienced warrior here". As the Lightning Bearer knelt before the Primarchs and the Emperor, prior to taking his leave of the arena, Hectarion stood up and shouted "A toast to the victor!", a statement which drew great shouts of approval from the Iron Bears and Crimson Lions, less so from the Scions and the legionaires of more "civilized" worlds. After having downed his cup of nerith in one, and as the Lions proceeded to do the same, Hectarion turned to Dear'dd and said "Your turn brother" with a grin. Groaning, Dear'dd followed suit, barely stopping himself from exploding into a coughing fit, a feat not managed by all his warriors. His head swimming slightly from alcohol consumption, and trying to ignore the smiling face that nerith was causing him to see the Sun as, Dear'dd, with a noticeable slur in his voice, said"How the hell do you lot drink that stuff on a regular basis?". Alexandros, who was also suffering from the intoxicating efffects of nerith, said "Perhaps Mycenaeans are simply a tougher bunch than you Huronians?" before giggling. While this took a few moments to sink in, when it had, Daer'dd stood up and, slamming his fist into his chest, shouted "Not possible! I'll give you tough in a minute you prissy diplomat!" making a lunge for Alexandros before being restrained by Pionius, who(due to a refusal to drink) was still sobre and so far steadier on his feet than most of his brothers. Once Daer'dd had been persuaded to sit back down, he noticed the askara steaks that had been brought in by a servitor and picked up a whole tray, saying to Alexandros, "I'll deal with you when I've finished these", before picking up the tray and attempting to pour the steaks down his throat. This made Pionius raise his eyebrows in disgust as he said "You honestly expect that to work?". Ceasing his battle to shove as many steaks down his throat at once as he could Dear'dd turned to Pionus and circling an arm round his shoulder said, whilst attempting to keep chewing, "Of course. Why wouldn't it? Alcohol makes anything possible!" before resuming his quest for more food. Clapping for the next winner, a Crimson Lion, Pionius said "Quite" then turning said "Where's Hectarion?". Pointing to the corner of the Imperial podium Alexandros said "Brawling with Raktra and Morro, what else?" before sniggering at some joke he'd just whispered to Icarion, one with which the Stormborn seemed less than impressed. Turning in his seat, Pionius saw that Alexandros had been right. Hectarion currently had Morro in a headlock whilst smashing Raktra's right hand into his face over and over again saying "Why you hitting yourself?".

 

Malcador said to the Emperor "Isn't it wonderful to have the whole family together?" before dodging a gravy float that someone had just thrown across the podium. Turning from observing Gwalchavad giving a tipsy lecture to the Jade General(who was formulating a plan to have a suit of jade armour made so that he could finally be sparkly) on the correct way to make a necklace of roses before being hit by the stray gravy float and soaked in gravy, the Emperor said "Quite. Do we still have the extra strong nerith Hectarion gave me for my last birthday?". Malcador nodded. The Emperor, by now observing Morro trying to chat up the goldfish and Niklaas and Dear'dd attempting to make a helmet out of discarded cups, said "Bring it up. I'm going to need it".

[simison]

'Giggling?' Was alcohol consumption involved in this writing process?

 

Also, I've been MIA because of academic and medical matters. The good news is that there is improvement in my health, so I should be more active soon.

[Raktra]

Ah crap, they found the antido- I MEAN THIS IS GOOD.

[MikhalLeNoir]

@simison: Get well soon.

@raktra: Lol, saved my day

[Sigismund229]

'Giggling?' Was alcohol consumption involved in this writing process?

How did you guess? :o

[Nomus Sardauk]

Malcador watched in carefully-masked awe as the Emperor casually necked another goblet of Nerith like it was water, quietly sipping on his own drink as the Master of Mankind drowned his paternal frustration.

 

Down in the arena a new pair of combatants had started their bout and Malcador watched with disinterest as a Berzerker of Uran named Wraxx futilely sought to bring his opponent, a Warden of Light by the name of Maccal, to heel. The golden form of the Warden agilely weaved back-and-forth between the Berzerker's wild swings, driving his foe to greater heights of fury as every missed swing of Wraxx's snarling Eviscerator was answered by a stinging cut from Maccal's Power Tonfas. Each wound was only small, but Malcador could tell the placement of the strikes were deliberate, with every slice the Warden was destroying vital servos, actuators and other components necessary to the wearer's mobility.

 

Malcador gave a slight smirk at Maccal's daring, if arrogant, strategy, he was going for a paticularly dramatic victory that would drive the crowd wild and keep them talking for months by leaving Wraxx immobilised and unable to continue the fight within his crippled armour. A completely bloodless victory, not to mention humiliating for his opponent. Truly, Malcador thought to himself, Gwalchavad's legion have inheirited their father's pacifistic streak, if not his sense of good sportsmanship.

 

A cry of disappointment roared through the crowd however as the Berzerker finally grew wise (though some would call such a thing paradoxical) to the Warden's tricks, catching Maccal in the gut with a powerful knee as he sought to duck under a two-handed swing of the Eviscerator. Stilling reeling and winded from the hit the Warden had no time to recover as Wraxx seized his chance, leaping atop his stunned foe and beating him relentlessly with the thick handguard of the weapon, shattering the Warden's eye lenses and denting his helmet under the brutal assault. Even as the Custodes referees declared Wraxx the victor via knockout he still thrashed at the unconscious Maccal for a moment before reluctantly standing to acknowledge his win. Malcador gave a hurrumph of bemusement, he hadn't expected the Berzerker to win, despite the Warden's reckless strategy, a surprising turn of events.

 

To his right Daer'dd roared with drunken enthusiasm as the next pair of champions entered the arena, one in the bronze-and-sable of his own Iron Bears, the other in the amethyst-and-rose of Alexandros's Halcyon Wardens. Immediately he and Alexandros began to alternate between cheering for their sons and arguing with each other, whilst Pionius and Hectarion quickly exchanged bets. A slight smile crossed Malcador's wizened features at their childish bickering, Brothers through and through, he thought to himself.

 

"Leman would have loved this."

 

Malcador quickly turned to reprimand whoever had uttered that name but stopped as he realised it was the Emperor himself who had spoken. With shock he saw his liege-lord's features bore a sad, wistful expression that Malcador had never seen before. "My lord?" He asked cautiously, the Emperor was leant back in his throne, head resting on one hand as he downed what Malcador noticed was his forth goblet-full of Nerith.

 

"Leman." The Emperor said quietly "He would have loved it, all of us together like this... Eating, drinking, watching duels." He gave a hollow chuckle. "Magnus too, although he'd never admit it. He'd complain and refuse to socialise, he'd call it a waste of time, an exercise in barbarism with no productive outcome."

 

Malcador listened intently, his Master rarely shared anything personal, let alone something like this. The wistful cheer faded from the Emperor's expression, replaced entirely by a look of sorrow that struck Malcador harder than he'd like to admit. "I miss them." He whispered quietly, the roar of the oblivious crowd sounding so distant in that moment.

 

Suddenly, a comforting hand gently placed itself upon the Emperor's right shoulder, causing both of them to look up. Icarion the Stormborn gave the Emperor a sympathetic smile, though his azure eyes betrayed the same pain as his father's. "Icarion..." He began, but Icarion held up a hand for him to stop. "No father, no looking back, you know they wouldn't want that." Icarion replied, his tone soft but firm. Malcador watched in silence as the Emperor gave a low sigh, slowly nodding his head in concession. "Hmm, you are right my son, I must not wallow in the past... Now then, shall we return to the match at hand and see if Daer'dd has regained any of his dignity?" He said, giving Icarion a genuine grin that the Stormborn returned before the pair returned their gaze to the arena.

 

Malcador found himself staring at then for a moment before following suit, still processing this rare moment of... Humanity, he decided, from his liege. In all his millenia of service he'd almost never seen his master like that, an all-too-brief glimpse at the man buried beneath the titanic power & radiance of the Emperor's persona. He was snapped out if his thoughts by a roar of disappointment from the crowd as the two champions below collapsed, apparently having knocked each other unconcious simultaneously, much to their Primarchs' joint exasperation.

 

As the Custodes declared the match a draw and the combatants were removed from the field, Malcador found himself smiling as he took another sip of wine, a day of surprises indeed.

Edited February 14, 2016 by SanguiniusReborn

[Chief Captain Redd]

I am absolutely loving theses short stories.

[Sigismund229]

Got bored, so I wrote this story. Advice: it reads better if you have Amon Amarth: Embrace of the endless ocean playing as you read it.

Vericos whooped in joy. Waves splashed across the longships bough, soaking him. Not that he would have noticed. The storm had been raging for hours, rain beating down so hard it felt like an axe beating against your helmet and the god Franí had been hurling down bolts of lightning, yet none had hit the Grudith longship yet. Despite all these dangers, the waves, the tipping of the ship, the lightning, Vericos whooped, gripping the rigging for support as another wave crashed across the bough. Nothing could dampen his spirits. He and his fellow tribesmen had been away for 3 years, fighting for the Thírí since they were 13, a pledge their tribe had made when defeated in battle. In all those years, Vericos had never forgotten his home, the frozen lakes and snow in winter and the storms in summer. Above all however, Vericos remembered the breeze on his face as he stood above the lake beside his father and uncle. Raising his falcan above his head, Vericos whooped and shouted "I'M COMING HOME!" at the top of his lungs and laughing. He had waited three years to return, three years to feel the cool breeze upon his face, three years to see the father, mother and sisters he had left behind in going to fight. Surely now, after all those years, nothing could kill him. Laughing as lightning lit up the sky once more, Vericos saw a flash of red and bronze dart across the sky, one of the gods servants surely. Truly, the gods were on their side, they had even sent a servant to watch over Vericos and his comrades. Then beside their longship Vericos saw a jet black group of scales emerge from the sea. A drakfaraigge. Waving his falcan, Vericos said "Hello my friend" chuckling as he did so.

 

Then, Darros appeared at Vericos' side and clapped him on the shoulder saying "We're nearly home. We've made it" with a grin. Turning to where Darros was looking, Vericos saw mountains. Land! Home! Vericos' dreams had come true! He was home! Standing up on the prow of the ship, his only real purchase being the rigging, Vericos shouted in triumph and roared out "Father! I'm coming home!". Cutting his palm, Vericos put his hand in the water, letting the salt water wash the wound clean and take his essence to the halls of Franí in thanks for the safe journey. However, then, an enormous head rose from beneath the waves, onyx black with a pair of jade green eyes. Rising 8 metres out of the water, the beasts head was huge and this wasn't even its full size. "DRAKFARAIGGE" roared Darros before the creature picked him and Osulf up into its maw and sent them down to its belly. Vericos growled and sprinted to where he'd placed his drakhook. Drakfaraigge were tough, tougher than even the mighty Stone Lions, but he'd been through too much to give up now. Seeing the flash of red and bronze again and another flash of lightning, Vericos shouted "THE GODS ARE WITH US! DON'T GIVE IN!" to his fellow warriors. However, then something happened none of them could have expected. The drak brought its tail up high above their ship and brought it crashing down, destroying the mast and sail, splitting the ship in two before the beast dissapeared beneath the waves again. Gripping the rigging for all he was worth, Vericos refused to fall off the boat and into the water. He couldn't die this way...not when he was so close...

 

The drakfaraigge rose from beneath the waves again. Vericos snarled. If he had to die, he would do it with a sword in his hand and fighting. Hauling himself upon onto what was left of the prow, Vericos unhooked the drakhook from his belt and threw it, hooking the drakfaraigge through one of its nostrils. The beast howled in pain. Smiling grimly, Vericos leapt from tje prow, holding himself away from the waves through upper body strength alone and began to hack at what passed for the animals neck. He only got one good chop in though before the beast flung its head back and him upwards, catching him in its jaws, the sword sized pieces of bone sinking deep into his flesh. Vericos howled, half from agony, half in frustration. He couldn't have come this far for nothing!

 

Drawing his dagger, Vericos plunged it deep into the creatures jade eye, causing it to release him as it went back into the depths. While he tried to keep his grip on the hook, the effort was too much for his weary, bleeding and mangled body and he had to let go. Using the last of his strength, he swam up to the surface to catch one last glimpse of the mountains and one last breath of air before he vanished beneath the waves for the last time, his spirit flying to the halls of Hados. As he rose he saw the mountains rising up in front of him. Grinning, he fell back into the oceans icy embrace. He wouldn't see the lakes, or the snow or feel the breeze upon his cheek, the pleasure of a woman beside him, not anymore. But, at least he'd had one last fight before he died and what warrior could ask for more? He would be happy to go to Hados' hall with this as an end to his tale, the drakfaraigge's pain as his legacy. Smiling, he surrendered to the ocean, to the darkness. Then, he felt himself lifted up by cold hands and felt himself laid upon the wind, his blood pooling around him. Looking up, he saw one of the Bassi above him. He reached out to touch its face as it said "Well done young warrior. You have earned your place by our side and be re born, to wage war in the stars alongside the gods". Smiling as he sank into darkness, Vericos said "Hados, I come to join you".

[simison]

It's finally happening. I've been trying to write British-style, and now it's affecting my papers. Thankfully, Word can at least warn me when I'm in the wrong nation. 

[Slips]

Unless you're in Canada where both methods are accepted! WELCOME TO OUR NIGHTMARE!

 

Where people needlessly debate on whether its Color or Colour and/or flipflop freely between both, like I do.

[simison]

Truly, Canada is a terrifying place. It must suck when you get a professor who insists on one way, but then have another professor that wants it done in the other way.

[Slips]

Yup.

 

Then you add on French and its shenanigans onto it because Quebec :P

 

Huzzah!

 

As for Alternate RoW for the Scions, I'm strongly thinking of making the Wraithening a Legit thing.

 

Depthstriders and Terminators as the only troops choices who gets buff for "Wraithing" Themselves in emulation of Big Daddy P.

 

And the rest of the list being Dreads and Automata with the LA:SH Rules with a forced Forgelord & Primus Combo much like Book 6's Dreadhead RoW.

[Sigismund229]

Yup.

 

Then you add on French and its shenanigans onto it because Quebec

 

Huzzah!

 

Try having professors who insist you're mis spelling your own name(native French French teachers everybody!)

Incidentally, I had an idea for something we could put into the book which includes the Blood Crusade. I thought that perhaps. in addition to CL(and possibly Arpine Defense Legions?) rules, we could perhaps include rules for shattered/stranded Iron Bears, Void Eagles, Halycon Wardens etc. possibly even some loyalist traitors who have washed up in the Empire of Mycenae and then formed into ad hoc companies to help the CL fight the Zerkers, Eagles and Jackals? 

Edited February 15, 2016 by Sigismund229

[simison]

We could, although I'm not sure how it'd be different from the canon rules.

[Raktra]

Doesn't have to be majorly different, just maybe tweak the actual missions.

[Sigismund229]

Section on the Mycenaean empire equivilent of PDF

The Arpine Defense Legions

 

In the empire of Mycenae, the primary unit of the Imperial Army in the field are the Arpine Auxilia. However, these units are just the tip of the iceberg, the cream of the Empire's young men, the fittest and strongest, sent to expand the borders of the Imperium in the name of the Emperor. However, for every hopeful who is accepted into the Auxilia and is sent to wage war in the stars, there are a hundred such hopefuls who are turned away. Yet just because they aren't suitable to fight on the front lines it doesn't mean they can't be useful, indeed without the Defense Legions the Auxilia would be dangerously over stretched. The ADF take care of those duties normally given to the Imperial Army, such as garissoning and policing worlds of the empire of Mycenae. Armoured in heavy carapace armour and armed with lasguns, their main role is that of protection, guarding the Imperium's worlds and keeping supply lines open to the front line of Great Crusade making it's implaccable advance possible. However, should Mycenae's worlds be invaded, the Arpine Defence Force will be the first to be thrown into the fires of war, a role for which they are well prepared and one which they relish. Fighting alongside the Young Guard(a militia that can be raised in times of need consisting of all persons between the ages of 18 and 21 who would be elligable for conscription) they can lay down a hail of fire so thick that nothing will come out of the other side unscathed and extracting a heavy price in blood from any foe who sets foot on their worlds.

[AlphariusOmegon108]

Daaaamn.. I have missed ALOT! I need to get back to this... What have I missed? Where are we at?

[Sigismund229]

Daaaamn.. I have missed ALOT! I need to get back to this... What have I missed? Where are we at?

The answer to what you've missed? Too much ;)

 

Joking aside, in my corner you've missed me re writing pretty much all of the CL's rules for the ninety fifth time but not much aside from that. 

 

On the Book 1 front, we've finished the background and are now moving on to making missions 

[Skalpynock]

Daaaamn.. I have missed ALOT! I need to get back to this... What have I missed? Where are we at?

Among other things:

-We've spent two months writing a single page of background. But a damn great one.

-Yucahu has received actual characterization beyond "Void Eagles Primarch"

-Simison and Sigismund have written lots of great fluff pieces

-Mikhal is sculpting BotL-version of Gwalchavad, and has started work on Kozja

[MikhalLeNoir]

Daaaamn.. I have missed ALOT! I need to get back to this... What have I missed? Where are we at?

Well, that happens of You play around with scythes and wolfes

[simison]

Daaaamn.. I have missed ALOT! I need to get back to this... What have I missed? Where are we at?

 

As far as the Insurrection book is concerned, we've finished all of the background minus one last red section. I've started writing the first key battle, and we've gotten some of the background info done for the Lightning Bearers and the Godslayers.

[Sigismund229]

Lions vs Zerkers(from a Warden stand point)

 

Warning claxons sounded all across the Lupa Sanguis as word spread that Berzerker boarding pods were on their way, each one filled with dozens of Raktra's mad progeny. Achilos rushed to the nearest predicted impact point relative to his position. When he was there he saw that there already two dozen aishetari as well as a heavy support squad. As the commander of this gathering turned to face Achilos, the metal floor beneath their feet shook and molten metal flew everywhere. As soon as the door began to open, the Lion opened fire, their commander roaring for them to form up. However, when Achilos went to join them, their commander, a grizzled old veteran called Faian, said "Not you Warden. Hurry to the bridge, you can't die in a mere holding action". The door was almost fully open as Achilos stated "The Halycon Wardens never run" only to be surprised as Faian shoved him back and said "Tjey do from this!" before throwing a glance over his shoulder to where heavy bolter fire was pouring into the boarding pod. Surely, nothing could survive that could it? Achilos was snapped out of his revery by Faian shoving him again and shouting for him to run before calling to his men to form up. Bemusedly, Achilos wondered why. No ordinary thing could survive the barrage of fire the pod had been subjected to. However, it wasn't any ordinary thing the pod carried. Bursting out from the pod roaring came Raktra, primarch of the Berzerkers, heavy bolter shots pinging off his armour as he bulldozed his way through the Aishetari, smashing Faian to one side only for him to dissapear beneath a crowd of Berzerkers, hacking at him like meat.

 

Suddenly, a legionnaire of the VII charged at Achilos, forcing Achilos to decapitate him with his power sword. However, a second one came at him but was tackled to the ground by an Aishetaros whose face had been hacked apart so savagely that nothing but a flew flaps of skin remained, the rest being raw red muscle, contrasting with the whites of his eyeballs. The marine then slammed his fist into the Berzerkers face until the ceramite splintered and brain matter spilled out onto the deck. Standing up, the Aishetaros shouted "RUN!" at Achilos before shoulder charging a Berzerker and slamming him into the wall, driving a looted chain axe to chew through the marines neck. Whereas his fellow Wardens would have conducted the battle with strategy, Achilos could only look on in horror as these two legions hammered each other, two unstoppable forces colliding and neither giving way. Where the Wardens sought to minimise loss of life, these two legions fought each other with rage, hatred and brute force, and they fought with more hatred and savagery than ever before against men they would once have called brother.

[simison]

With bitter shame, Achilos turned and fled from the boarding action, finally honoring Faian's wish. With the exit to the ship's interior on the other side of the melee, Achilos ran along the hull to find safer passage. Gripping his power sword and his shield, the Warden sergeant longed to be with his brothers. Yet, to earn the rank of Lieutenant, he had to join the Legion Exchange service. Achilos was nearing the end of his term aboard the Lupa Sanguis when the Insurrection filled the galaxy with war. Unable to secure transportation back to his legion, Achilos had fought besides the Lions ever since.  

 

Stepping into an ammunition depot, he scanned the area before deeming it clear, rushing toward the hallway leading inward to the ship. He was only three steps from it before the room shook as another pod slammed into the ship. In only seconds, more Berserkers would be filling the room, and though a veteran, Achilos doubted his ability to hold them back. His eye caught the storage container next to him and realized it was filled with meltabombs. The pod doors exploded open as Achilos sliced off the top with his sword. Bolts rang against his shield as the first of the Berserkers charged out. Grabbing and activating one of the bombs, Achilos threw it in the Berserkers' direction before sprinting through the bulkhead before spinning around to make a stand. The hastily thrown projectile flew past the invaders and hit the wall where it exploded. 

 

The rush of oxygen signaled a hull breach. While filled with psychotic rage, the Sons of Uran were cunning and merely activated their grav-boots, laughing at the lone Warden. Their humor was brief when the emergency bulkheads activated, sealing off the room. Figuring he had bought the ship a few more seconds, Achilos went back running towards the bridge.