To Recover the Past... [OW/DW] IC Thread

[Karack Blackstone]

Bursir returns the grasp in kind, noting Igorot has Wolf symbols on his armor, although not of his Chapter.

 

"Well met indeed. I see you carry some as yet unknown to me Wolf totems on you. I take it you earned the right to carry them then; very well, we shall see how we each do on this hunt."

 

"A Dreadnought being what it is, I think we will ride down in whatever the Inquisitor assigns us to be in, for insertion. While this is a touchy subject, I will see about my Requisition on the way to the Stormraven."

 

Bursir nods slightly at the mention of the Drop pod.

 

"Drop pod insertion would best suit the needs of this mission, most likely. As for the departure time, when is it, Inquisitor?"

 

"Please plan to depart within five standard Terran hours; I would like you to see how fast you can get there."

 

"So, when the Stormbird is done receiving the blessings for its new toys, then. Very well."

 

With a salute, Bursir turns towards the door, and looks at each of the Astartes assembled therein; as the door slides open, he calmly states,

 

"Brother, you have team lead; so, please then, lead us. What is the first task we should do, considering our five hour wait time before departure?"

 

Bursir, quick to apparently know his place in the team, and that is not currently as leader, is ready to take his ques from the new leader, Irad.

[Boudan]

Gallan had merely nodded his assent to Irad's command.  They were all strangers and unknown to each other. If their choice was to be made in ignorance, then why not choose he who claimed some dominion over the future? 

At least there will be no surprises.

The talk of dreadnought support for their mission was surprising, although Gallan's capacity for such was fading quickly.  Those venerable Astartes who slept uneasily within coffins of iron were not keen to be woken.  Chyron, the Lamenter dreadnought assigned to the Watch, was infamous for his irascibility.  Gallan had paid his respects early on, but otherwise left the ancient to rest.  The boiling, insatiable hunger of the Black Rage did not touch Chyron, and yet that lingering spark of humanity found in all Astartes was dimming in Gallan's elder. 

One cannot fight forever, without losing their sense of self.  I, too, will die fighting, or fade away in a sarcophagus. 

Only those who sacrificed in the image of Sanguinius himself earned an internment that was honorific and terrible in equal measure.  

Who would come to whisper my oaths?

Gallan had made the appropriate courtesies to the new arrival, but he sensed a viciousness lurking behind Bursir's affability.  The Vlka Fenryka were not fond of the Inquisition, to speak truth mildly.  Whatever separated their squad's new scout from his blood-kin, it was not a mission to make friends with agents of the Ordo Xenos.  The Inquisition had tried to murder Bursir's chapter on more than one occasion - this was well-known among most Astartes.  

He has private reasons to be here.

The exchange between the Wolf and Igorot regarding the earning of wolven totems required further consideration.  

Was Bursir challenging Igorot? Is there some connection between them, or their chapters?

Gallan glanced at the others, Astartes and Inquisitorial.  Irad, the librarian-now-leader.  Igorot, the gregarious tactician. Apollus, the accomplished slayer.  Janica, the tyrant-breaking inquisitor. They all presented as ideal champions of His Will, Incarnate.  

We all wear the same mask.  We all have our reasons.

[Karack Blackstone]

Bursir turns to the shadows nearby for a few moments of the corner, and steps into them, to allow another Astartes to pass him.

 

((Jorek, please make sure to read the OP, and up until this point; there's limits on what you know with your arrival being at this point, just please keep in mind words were not likely heard, and descriptions of characters are known to you.))

[Lord Heremes]

Jorek stepped forward, his red servo-arm, a stark contrast to his black armour, clearly denoting him as a techmarine,
 

"Hail Brothers, I hear my expertise will be required in the times ahead."

 

His voice was a metal growl through his vox.

 

"We've all seen whats at stake, these objectives are too valuable to lose"

 

taking a moment to evaluate the squad, he familiarized himself with those who would be his new brothers.

 

"I notice we dont have a brother apothecary with us, I assure you my training should hold both your body and your armour together until we return"

[Skinrider]

Igorot smiles

 

"A mender of fighting men and machines, you are a welcome sight brother"

 

He clasps Jorek's forearm

[Slips]

Apollus raises an eyebrow, curious.

 

"While I have met a Wolf Priest, a mix of Chaplain and Apothecary, I've yet to meet one such as yourself. This shall prove most interesting, Brother Techmarine." He said.

 

Still, Apollus' only current worry was that he knew little of the Chapters from which his squadmates hailed from and that irked him. He had prided himself on knowing as much of Adeptus Astartes that he was a part of. He would look up their Histories and Heraldry when next he could.

 

But for now, the mission. He thought to himself.

 

"Will any others be joining us, Inquisitor?"

[Karack Blackstone]

"I discreetly requested the aid of a select number of you; one more, who might replace Bursir should be it at this time."

 

Janica looks aside for a moment, and then back at the others,

 

"I would benefit from having Bursir remain on station for the mission, if the replacement's skill set is found to be of use to the Kill-Team. That said, if you feel two Scout grade squad members will aid you even more, given the jungle environment your primary deployment zone seems to be, with the carnivorous vegetation and all, I can get along well enough without Bursir here to aid me. I leave the situation in the capable hands of Irad, the Kill-Team leader at this time."

 

With a slight movement, her hand places on the table several dataslates, all of clearly Mechanicus symbols,

 

"These are your Requisition dataslates for the mission; do please select your gear carefully, as this is clearly a stealth mission. I will say this much however; I can see about having a Dreadnought placed in reserve, and in a Drop Pod for this mission. Sadly, it starts stealth; it may well end up with a decidedly not quiet extraction, depending upon how things go."

 

Janica awaits further responses; Bursir seems stone faced. ((Awareness test to read him, and get a better idea of how he might truly feel.))

[Black Cohort]

"Look to your gear brothers and meditate on our duty to come.  We will assemble in the launch bay fully armoured 30 standard minutes before launch.  Where unless someone has a better suggestion we will take an Oath of knowledge to steel ourselves against the fell agents of Chaos."

 

When the tech-marine arrives Irad welcomes him, clasping his forearm.  "Well met brother Tech-marine, we could use one of your knowledge and skill for this mission.  Since you missed our early discussion is there anything you need to be filled in on."

[Skinrider]

Rolled a 91 on Awareness so no luck

 

"Perhaps for a stealth mission like this a couple of scouts would serve us well. But the decision is up to our brother librarian."

 

Igorot's thoughts wandered to his trophy rack in his room housing and the skulls he had taken. He would put the tyranid hive guard skull on display for this mission, that should even make servants of the Enemy or any eldar hesitate. He had once fought on the same side as the eldar, not shoulder to shoulder, but on the same battlefield. Another time against them. They were fickle allies as all xenos were. 

 

It was only on his trophy rack where all manner of xenos could live side by side in harmony ...grinning

[Lord Heremes]

(rolled a 37 on awareness)

 

"I agree a scout would be of much value. Knowledge of the terrain and of what lays ahead can only help our cause."

 

While speaking Jorek took the time to carefully study his fellow astartes, instinctively looking over there gear for any minor damage as well as noting there chapters. After concluding his observations he allowed his thoughts to wander to the relics that would be his duty to safeguard and deliver. He was honored to even have been chosen to retrieve them. He had seen a Typhoon, locked in one of the many vaults on Mars during his training. It had awed him to set eyes such a relic of the great crusade. This team had to succeed, these weapons would benefit all chapters and even the Imperial guard if they could once again be mass produced. A fire of determination had started burning in his chest when he had been briefed.

 

"As soon as we are done here i will make my way to the launch bay to ensure everything is prepared with our vehicle."

 

Orbital insertions and boarding was his Chapter specialty, he felt compelled to ensure everything went perfectly.

[Slips]

Rolled 67 with perception 40, no dice.

 

"So be it, I shall head to the quartermaster and equip myself for the mission and meet you all at the launch bay."

[Karack Blackstone]

Janica and Bursir exchange glances; while Bursir then looks to his squad leader for his decision regarding his fate, Janica says,

 

"Do please proceed as and when you feel best to proceed. The five hours you have before the transports are ready involve the proper development of new sanctification rites for the transports you will be riding in; as well, what transport shall I have put aside for you? I can see to it that once your mission is begun, other teams are able to return to the use of the transport pool I have requested for this mission. There are the choices of a Stormraven, Stormwolf, Stormfang, or, lastly, a Storm Eagle."

 

Once the choice on transport is made, the squad has five hours to get ready, and do anything they require for the prep, whether personal or squad level, for this mission.

 

((Anything else you guys want to do? If so, speak up now; I don't have a great deal of a chance to get Bursir done, however, he'd want to go. Whether or not he does remains to be seen.))

[Slips]

"My own vote would be for the Storm Eagle, Inquisitor, a vehicle whose pattern predates that of the Storm Raven and who saw service during the Great Crusade. A fitting vehicle to serve as our transport for a mission such as this wouldn't you say? The enlarged passenger compartment would also permit us to carry back more gear than the others would permit should it be necessary." I'm an AoD Mod, why Wouldn't I choose the 30k Flyer? hahaha!

 

"But, time grows short and I must see to having my Arms and Armour consecrated and blessed by the Techmarines and Chaplains as well as seeing to my personal Requisition for this mission."

 

"As such, I bid thee farewell." Nodding curtly to the Inquisitor before him.

 

On his way out he addresses the Space Wolf "I hope you join us, Brother Wolf. The tracking senses and skill of the sons of Russ is Legendary and well renowned. Having one of the First Founding guide us to our prize would be an honor."

 

And to the rest of the marines assembled "I shall meet you all in the Launch Bay, Brother Marines."

 

With that, he nods to each of those assembled and leaves through the Blast Door he entered and heads to the Quartermaster. Pride swelling with every step he took for having been handpicked by an Inquisitor to aid in recovering irreplaceable Crusade-Era Tech. 

[Black Cohort]

"I agree with the assessment that the storm eagle is an ideal choice. I thought it had already been decided that Brother Bursir would deploy with us, on of his skill will surely be of aid in this mission. "

[Skinrider]

"Then I am off to prepare my gear and meditate brothers"

 

Igorot nods to his brothers and heads out, to Busir he adds: "Hunt well brother wolf"

 

He then heads off to collect his requisition, after which he arranges the skulls for his trophy rack to carry into battle and meditates on the battle to come. One of his serfs touches up the white paint on the skull painted on his face plate, Igorot doesn't remove his helmet and the serf paints it on him as he meditates. 

[Boudan]

Gallan listed to Irad discuss the transport.  After, Gallan added: "My brother speaks for me in this," to the Inquisitor.  

 

He didn't really care what transport was used - whatever got them there would suffice.  Gallan had ridden in a number of Stormravens and Storm Eagles in the past.  Yes, there were differences between the craft, but they weren't pertinent to the mission.

 

He turned and began to walk out of the Inquisitor's conference room.  The time before action was best spent checking gear, offering oaths to honor the fallen and meditating.  There was also the pleasing prospect of taking possession of the inferno pistol, however temporary.

 

Rolled 08 with Perception 40.

 

As he left, Gallan could hear Bursir objecting quietly to the Inquisitor. The marine's body language suggested a controlled anger. Apparently the man was distressed at the possibility of being left behind from their mission.  Perhaps he thinks he is being snubbed?  The Vlka Fenryka are as sensitive as the tales claim, Gallan thought.  Then again, maybe he really is being targeted.  The Inquisition has no limits, great or small.

 

Gallan paused, and turned again to the Inquisitor.  "None can provide this mission with what Bursir offers.  If our success on the ground is the first priority, we must have him."  He didn't wait for a reaction.  Gallan resumed his march toward the armory and hangar.

[Lord Heremes]

"It appears we all appreciate the Storm Eagles capabilities. If all is decided i have much to prepare."

 

Jorek headed towards the armory to pick up his gear, he then planned to stop by the forge and Medicae before heading down the the launch bay.
He did not pray, or meditate, at least not as some brothers would. There was always more work to be done, more brothers he could help, his meditation was in knowing he had done as much as he could for them and the deathwatch before leaving on mission. 5 hours gave him plenty of time to make his rounds before launch. 

[Karack Blackstone]

Inquisitor Janica seems both unphased and almost pleasantly surprised that they want Bursir to go.

 

Bursir on the other hand is apparently fighting to show a smile at the change of his apparent fate. As far as what appears to be the Inquisitor's motives, there's no real sign as to the why she was entertaining the thought of having Bursir stay, and keeping the Space Wolf from fulfilling his 'Watch duties. As far as the party can tell, there is a decided void of information therein, as to that situation.

 

As the Brothers part ways for now, planning to meet up in the hangar to deploy, they would notice that their meeting has led to some quiet conjecture amongst the rest of the Astartes stationed on Watch Station Erioch. As to the questions, I will type them up should any of the Brothers be accosted with questions, or, feel the need to inquire as to the scuttlebutt of the 'Watch Station.

 

At the Armory, the Quartermaster somewhat reluctantly delivers the crates of equipment that will hopefully be able to see the Kill-Team successful in the field.

 

"Carnivorous plants that require Melta weapons for a bunch of relatively new Marines; that's interesting, to say the least. I guess you're expecting heavy resistance from plants, huh?" There's both a humorous and slightly condescending tone; whether this is because plants are a threat, there's a dig for information, or something else going on, remains to be seen.

 

As to those wandering the Watch Station, there seems to be some guesswork going on as to what the players' Kill-Team is out to accomplish; while they know nothing, no one just yet seems willing to break standard protocol and just ask. As far as the standing protocol goes, asking is usually bad form; dropping hints is considered unwise, and scuttlebutt, or, the rumors of what is going on, is made up of purely fantastical ideas, things to see who can get away with the best made up rumor while not being caught in a lie.

 

Needless to say, deadly plants reportedly needing Melta weapons, and the world's name being held quiet, most are wondering why the Astartes are going to Catachan, and receiving a possible downgrade, so to speak. That they don't know the truth may prove useful; the question is, how do the party proceed and feel about the rumors on the Watch Station?

[Slips]

"One can never be too careful when facing the Flora and Fauna of a Deathworld, Quartermaster. And if the Inquisitor in charge deems it necessary for us to use Melta Weapons, who am I to disagree?" He replied with a coy smile.

 

"Besides, they might make for fine trophies. I will say that Inquisitors being what they are, we're going there for a reason and it should prove interesting, whatever that is. If only she'd deign to inform us." He says, shaking his head in disappointment as he straps, maglocks or otherwise attaches his gear to him.

 

"If we're lucky, we'll find some Traitorous Dogs cowering on the planet like the feeble fools they are and bring back their heads."

 

"But this is all just speculation on my part, Quartermaster."

 

Apollus otherwise says nothing to others who cross his path lest they be of notable rank, veterancy or import. And in the event that he does, he keeps his story straight, uncharacteristically obfuscating the actual details of their mission as per the Inquisitors request.

 

As such, he reconvenes with the rest of the squad in the Launch Bay.

[Skinrider]

As the quartermaster asks Igorot about the melta weapons:

"I am no botanist, I thought plants were killed with over-watering, but perhaps it was melta weaponry, I can never properly remember these things.".

He grins at the quartermaster and leaves

 

If anyone asks anything of him regarding his mission, other than a superior or a brother astartes, he responds with: 

"Have you little ladies nothing better to do than gossip? Have I left the Watch Fortress and wandered into a Ladies of the Ecclesiarchy cake sale?" Leaning closer to the inquirers face with his skull faced helmet "Go be useful"

 

When he's in his chamber with his serf he says to them:

"I assume I don't need to remind you of the importance of discretion in our chapter, hence the number of mind-wipes you've had. Normally we work extensively with Inquisitors in the field and there are usually only our ship's crew to talk to. But here, it is even more important to not give away a scrap of information with people from all over around. Should I hear a whisper of a rumor of an inkling of information coming from you men, I would skin you and make your skin into a warning poster for the rest."

 

The serfs of The Wraiths are used to hearing threats like this, they know the importance of secrecy. They have all been tested by the chapter extensively due to this. As the chapter works with the Ordo Xenos frequently the serfs will see things few humans have seen, although usually only the skulls. They know Lord Igorot is joking about making their skin into a warning poster ...but he is not joking about skinning them.

[Black Cohort]

When the quatermaster starts talking, Irad smiles, "I make it my business to take the recommendations of an Inquisitor very seriously.  And I would rather discover that I don't need a meltagun than be on a mission wishing I had one."

 

Irad largely ignores the rest of the station before the mission, his powers of foresight require focus and his attempt during the briefing had left him more rattled than he had let on.

[Lord Heremes]

"Various flora and fauna on many death worlds have proven to be more then adept at withstanding conventional means of eradication and some have also been known to rapidly regenerate and grow beyond all expectations. No matter what we face, this should stop it in its tracks." Jorek answered the quartermaster.

He promptly left the armoury with his gear to make his rounds.

 

He stopped by the apothecary to check on brothers with recent bionic implants to make sure integration was flawless. Making adjustments where needed.

 

At the forge he helped where he could, making repairs to armour and weapons. By constantly working he avoided any rumouring by keeping at the task before him. There was always more work to do, more ways to keep busy. Secrecy was easy when you are too busy helping others to talk.

[Boudan]

Gallan entered the armory and found the other marines in his squad had already arrived.  He listened to his comrades patiently explain their needs to the quartermaster before exiting with their respective kit.  On some level, he admired their ability to dispel the quartermaster's misgivings about their requested arms.  But another part of Gallan held fast an intense anger toward any who challenged him, or his brothers.  Although he felt little kinship to the other men in the newly-formed squad, the contrarian quartermaster's gossiping made Gallan defensive.

 

I do not sing on cue, clerk.

 

Gallan approached the distribution area and tossed the chit containing his requisition order.  The small tablet bounced off the quartermaster's chest and landed on the table.   He grinned large at the man standing across from him, Gallan's eyeteeth catching the sterile light from overhead.  After a few moments of awkward grimacing between the two men, the Lamenter received his weapons and equipment.  Gallan casually attached each to his person before heading toward the hanger.

 

As he exited the armory, he spoke over his shoulder: "Praise the Emperor."

 

Now where did that techmarine go? Jorek, he said, of the Sand Wyverns chapter? Perhaps he knew some my brothers who were sent to Mars.

[Karack Blackstone]

"... Praise the Emperor."

 

The Quartermaster lets almost all of the lack of info go by; the thrown dataslate however, that one he lofts an eyebrow and frowns at in response. He quietly hands over the gear, before finally smiling in response as Gallan has apparently just gained the Quartermaster's wrath in life.

 

"Well then; best of luck to all of you."

 

((Awareness test, please.))

 

As the majority of the party seem ready, and while the group waits for one more, I will request at this time some kind of thoughtful post from each of you. If it's not your style, please make one that fits your style. As it is, things should be about ready to go for all of you as a party.

 

In the hangar bay, the Storm Eagle is finishing its refit for the mission; apparently, it is receiving some sort of device, that should aid it on the drop.

 

As far as the Stormbird, it is nearby, being finished out as far as its tasks are concerned; it is to be flown along with the Storm Eagle to the waiting Strike Craft for the mission, an apparent Cobra class Destroyer vessel, Emperor's Hope.

 

There is also a Dreadnought of the Imperial Fists Chapter heading towards a waiting spot for transport aboard the Stormbird; his name, Dernus, seems to be waiting idly, almost statuesque, in his repose as he waits for word to board. As the Tech-Marines, Tech-Priests, and menials try to get the force out the door as quickly as possible, there is also a need to see that everything is in order, especially considering the needs of any mission, let alone this one. That need is both working for and against the task of seeing this mission's and many others' fighting to get their tasks done here today.

 

As to the departure, Janica is personally walking about, attempting to make sure that the final tasks to see her Kill-Team off are both being done, and getting done to spec as the need arises; there is apparently little for her to do, however, she does at least nod when she can to each Marine she has selected.

 

Standing next to her is one last Marine, a Blackshield Scout, similar to Bursir but with blacked out armor, especially where the Chapter icon would be placed. As Bursir is walking up with his own equipment upon his person, he appears uncertain as to how to take this arrival.

[Slips]

Awareness Test: Rolled 26 with Perception 40 for 2 Degrees of Success. (Unless I wasn't supposed to haha!)

 

During the wait period before embarkation, Apollus makes some space and drills himself for a while: Swapping from his Multi-Melta to Stalker Bolter to Bolt Pistol as fast and cleanly as possible. Loading the Weapons, taking aim,"firing" and Reloading.

 

It's very rarely that he was equipped as much as this at any given time. Even within his own Chapter, the Iron Snakes, he only ever had the one weapon, a Bolt Pistol and his Combat Knife when situations didn't require the squad to be equipped with a Combat Shield and Power Spear when they employed their Phalanx Tactics.

 

He then went about seeing how mobile he was with all this gear strapped to him to get a measure of just how much or how little he could move with it all. The last thing he'd want to happen is to irreversibly damage something outside of a combat situation.

 

As he went through the motions, he emptied his mind of the mission briefings, the odd looks and glares others on the Watch Fortress gave him and his squad mates as they passed them, even the probing questions that attempted to get some information out of him. In this moment in time, it was just him, his power armour and his weapons. He mentally recited the litanies his Chapter Chaplains recounted, steeling himself for the mission to come.

 

He would not fail.

 

Once done with his exercises and comfortable with himself, he took stock of his surroundings. Seeing the Ancient Brother, he knew that they would succeed. 

 

As the Inquisitor passed, he returned her nod in kind.

 

Seeing the Blackshield, he frowned slightly, the look thankfully hidden by his helmet. A Blackshield. He'd seen them in passing but never fought alongside one. Still, he would not pass judgement just yet. While some hide their Chapter Origins out of shame or repentance, others do it out of total devotion to the Deathwatch.

 

He went back to his own thoughts running over the mission details again and again.