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iirc the trouble with combi-weapons is that you always shoot both barrels, so I'll be hitting on 3s regardless. My opponent has eight re-rolls for me to burn through so it could take a while.

 

This will be pinned after the end of the RTS

I did not expect the screaming (!) face of my captain Raphael be the opening act.

My 1st company captain VS a Flesh Tearers captain Alessandro (the Great) with 4 re-rolls????

If my Tactical Dreadnought armour fails I 'm sooooo screwed......

But, defeatism is beneath me. Have you seen my melta and relic blade "Exterminatus"?

"Fall before the chapter!", and may the best captain win!

 

Alessandro breathed slowly while reviewing the pairings. The task handed to him by his chapter master, Gabriel Seth, would not be easy. But his duty, the weight of mountains upon his shoulders and psyche, would have to be accomplished to bring honor to his chapter. Not only was he required to lay low his opponents but he must also stymie The Black Rage. He realized double prayers would be in order before the event began and that a walk among the ramparts was in order.

 

He headed out of his chambers into the labyrinthine halls of the complex, however, having memorized them all already, the route was easy to draw in his mind. As he made his way to the main thoroughfare that would take him up to the pinnacle of this behemoth of a fortress, ignoring the servitors that he passed and their incessant clicking and beeping, he found himself face to face with his opponent. Seems they might have been more alike that he had previously thought.

 

His brother greeted him with the bravado to be expected of a brother not under constant threat of The Black Rage. .oO Some are more cursed than others Oo. he thought to himself. "Brother Raphael." he said with a calm and quiet demeanor. "May our father guide our blades and watch over us during this Feast of Blades." He made a slight nod of respect toward Raphael before starting to walk past him and toward his current purpose.

 

((Just wanted to give you the opportunity if you wanted to respond))

 

Edit: Edited to make it read a bit better, I hope.. :/

 

Edit 2: I think I'm happy with the response now lol! :p

Edited by Aothaine

 

Alessandro breathed slowly while reviewing the pairings. The task handed to him by his chapter master, Gabriel Seth, would not be easy. But his duty, the weight of mountains upon his shoulders and psyche, would have to be accomplished to bring honor to his chapter. Not only was he required to lay low his opponents but he must also stymie The Black Rage. He realized double prayers would be in order before the event began and that a walk among the ramparts was in order.

 

He headed out of his chambers into the labyrinthine halls of the complex, however, having memorized them all already, the route was easy to draw in his mind. As he made his way to the main thoroughfare that would take him up to the pinnacle of this behemoth of a fortress, ignoring the servitors that he passed and their incessant clicking and beeping, he found himself face to face with his opponent. Seems they might have been more alike that he had previously thought.

 

His brother greeted him with the bravado to be expected of a brother not under constant threat of The Black Rage. .oO Some are more cursed than others Oo. he thought to himself. "Brother Raphael." he said with a calm and quiet demeanor. "May our father guide our blades and watch over us during this Feast of Blades." He made a slight nod of respect toward Raphael before starting to walk past him and toward his current purpose.

 

((Just wanted to give you the opportunity if you wanted to respond))

 

Lost in deep meditation Michaelus Raphael reflected on his path. It's not easy to be the 1st of the IX. It's not easy to be in command to start with. That your voice commands respect and orders are executed without question, that your every move (or battle move) is an example to your Archangels and to the rest of the Chapter. And above all that to show all your allies you are a true son of the Angel and make them follow you to the deepest pits of hell.

A hell that also exists in him, the one he faces every day, black as space and blinding in the terrifying madness of its rage.

No! I cannot fall!

 

Only Lord Dante understands.

 

Transhuman instinct opened his eyes and centered his thoughts. His brother Alessandro was approaching, obviously in a similar state of mind. That even in a celebration we have to control our feelings, unlike any other fellow Astartes. It was almost sad, but at the same time it placed them amongst the deadliest warriors of humanity. Deadly like his brother, captain Alessandro, his movements a clear reflection of the aggression and martial prowess of Nassir Amit. Michaelus respected that, as well as Alessandro's control of the Rage. 

He greeted him as his equal, and smiled at the opportunity to test their skills to the limit.

 

Meditation was over.

 

((Thanks Aothaine, that was awesome!))

I did say meditation time was over, right?

I'm a busy guy! I intend to get some fights done tomorrow, but rolling the dice, recording what happens, then writing it up takes about 60 mins a fight!

 

I'm a busy guy! I intend to get some fights done tomorrow, but rolling the dice, recording what happens, then writing it up takes about 60 mins a fight!

 

 

Of course I understand Xenith, I just posted something cause the thread seemed too quiet. :)

 

I did say meditation time was over, right?

I'm a busy guy! I intend to get some fights done tomorrow, but rolling the dice, recording what happens, then writing it up takes about 60 mins a fight!

Wow! That's impressive. Do you use actual figures, or just rolls?

 

Also, I feel like we need a Cell vs Goku reference thrown into one of these fights. And maybe a Vegeta vs Toppo jab a la 2nd fiddle.

 

And of course we need some back and forth banter about how many bugs and what kind each killed during the DoB. Good luck! I know you're going to crush this Xenith!

+++

A sudden hiss of static through the vox network made all present flinch. Transhuman or not, the primal reflexes still dominated their Astartes bodies on some level. Diabocca’s voice pealed out:

Welcome, brothers, scions of the line of Sanguinius, to Baal. You all know of the tragedy that has befallen the homeworld of our gene-sire, as it is chronicled in the work “Quod Devastatio Baalim”, which resides in the Librarius of each of your chapters. Despite the catastrophe, we endure. We fight. We celebrate our existence, and the lighting of the dark. We stand here at the gate of Imperium Nihilus, cut off from the main body of the Imperium, yet we do not stand alone, as long as our brothers stand by us and Sanguinius watches over us.

Over the coming weeks, great champions of each chapter will clash in ritual combat, brother meeting blade to blade with their kin to see who is truly the best. For now. Retire to your quarters. Rest. Prepare for the coming trials.

+++

+++ROUND 1, FIGHT ONE+++

The first contestants are Captain Raphael of the Blood Angels, and Captain Alessandro of the Flesh Tearers.

The grinding of enhanced servos accompanied the shifting of Raphael’s armoured bulk into the ring. His opponent, the Flesh Tearer, was already standing idle, the fingers of his powered glove opening and closing impatiently. Raphael could smell blood on Alessandros wargear, it had not been cleaned in some while, but he knew from the sound that the fist made as it articulated, that the gloves power field and internal components had been meticulously maintained. “Such are our wayward brothers” Raphael internalised.

“Aren’t you dead?” The rough voice rasped from Alessandros throat. It was not said with Anger or fury characterful of the Flesh Tearers. Alessandros control of the rage lurking beneath was legendary, even among his brothers. He alone resisted the primal scream for Blood on Baal when the daemons of Khorne attacked.

“Rumours of my death were greatly exaggerated, Alessandro. It’ll take more than a Hulk full of ‘Stealers to end my command, and now I am returned to Baal” Raphael sent back with a smirk.

“Now fight!” Raphael lurched forward with a speed uncharacteristic for Tactical Dreadnought Armour clad astartes, a testament to his rank as captain of the elite first company .He was not fast enough though, and could not close the gap with Alessandro, bolt rounds sparking off black pauldrons.

With a roar, Alessandro threw himself at Raphael, his Combi Grav firing wildly from the hip as he ran forwards, most of the shots going wide – a serf panicked and fled as a stray grav shot crushed the goblet he was carrying, shooting spiced wine into the air. One shot found it’s mark and Raphaels armour was tested and found true as his iron halo flared to life, protecting him from the crushing effects of the grav gun.

Raphael snapped a final shot at Alessandro as the Flesh tearer charged, bolt shells pattering harmlessly while Alessandro’s Halo absorbed the point blank melta blast.

The Flesh Teaerer leapt, fist raised and letting the momentum of the charge add weight to his blows. Alessandro hammered the gauntlet down into Raphael, tearing chunks of ceramite from his armour, buckling plates. Raphael felt three ribs break despite the black carapace, and his lung begin to fill with blood. Raphael managed to raise his arm in time to block a punch that would have nearly decapitated him, the fist crunching into his forearm and shattering the bone within. Thrown off balance by Raphaels unexpected block an sacrifice of his arm, Alessandro paused. That was all Raphael needed. Armour screaming, he shunted forwards, rolling his right shoulder and brining the chapter badge there into contact with Alessandros face plate. An eye lense cracked, Alessandro grunted in pain. A Back handed slash brought Raphael’s relic blade in a wide arc, smashing the combi grav from the disoriented Flesh Tearers hand, the blade now held directly in front of Raphael, his arm pistoned back and forward, lancing out to slice beneath Alessandro’s gorget as he struggled with his shattered helm, the captain’s mastery of the blade shearing through the soft sealing of the power armour undersuit, yet stopping before contacting Alessandros throat. This was non lethal combat, and it would not do to kill sorely needed brethren in honour duels.

Alessandro knew he was bested. His fury not enough to bring down the captain with his centuries of experience, his arms dropped to his sides, despite his blood screaming for him to rip and tear.

“I yield.”

Roll by roll:

Raphael – TDA, relic blade, combi melta, 2 rerolls

Alessandro – power armour, power fist, combi grav, 5 rerolls

Roll for initiative:
Raphael – 6!
Alessandro – 5!
Raphael goes first. Moves 5” toward Alessandro, however due to TDA is 13” away. Out of charge and melta range. 1 bolt shot – rolls 1. Rites of battle reroll - 4. Rolls 1 to wound. Reroll. 3. Fail.
Alessandro takes his turn. Moves 6” toward Raphael. Shoots both halves of combi weapon. Rolls 5,2,2,2 for bolt and combi grav (facepalm). 3 rerolls for 5,6,1,5 on bolter then grav. Grav rolls 1 to wound. Reroll to 4. Rapahel takes invun save – 6! Bolt shots roll 1,5 to wound, 1 rerolled to 1. Saves on a 4.
Assault: Alessandro is 7” away…rolls an 8!
Raphael overwatch: 5,2 for the bolter, but the melta rolls a 6! Melta rolls 2 to wound. Incredibly saved on a 5.
Alessandro strikes first. 4 attacks, 3 hits on 5,3,3,2. 2 wounds on 6,3,1. 2 failed saves on 1,2. Rolls 6 and 2 for 5 damage – Raphael is still in it, barely!
Raphael attacks back: 4,4,3,1. Rites of battle rerolls 1 to 4. 4 wounds on 6,2,2,2 (red thirst). Incredibly saved on a 5,5,6,6.
Round 2. Raphael’s turn so he goes first. 5,5,5,3. 3 wounds on 6,5,3,1. 3 failed saves on 3,3,1! 3D3 damage puts 6 wounds on Alessandro who goes down.
Raphael wins!

Standings:

gallery_58096_15019_97857.jpg
Edited by Xenith

Fantastic narrative, I read it all before checking the result and I was like Keanu Reeves: "Wow!" .... just , wow , fantastic work Xenith.

Captain Raphael played exactly like it was me rolling the dice, casually badly hehehe! If it wasn't for TDA's extra wound Raphael would have been defeated.

sfPanzer I was almost sure it would go badly for me.

Aothaine, good game, that was a very difficult fight!

Edited by Spyros

4th Captain Solomon, watched the fight from the edge of the ring. Not a great deal surprised him anymore but the ferocity of brother fighting brother made him raise an eyebrow. With the Sanguine Knights being a young chapter and being deployed so far away from the Baal system, he was the first of his chapter to attend the feast of blades. Much was riding on his shoulders in this tournament; his company's reputation, his own reputation but most importantly his chapter's reputation.

 

There are very few high ranking officers left in the Sanguine Knights and with no chapter master, someone had to fill the role. Solomon was well liked and respected, although young, he was experienced enough to be out forward to become chapter master. Many claimed that his exploits, defending the Lexio system from the tyranid invasion that crippled the Sanguine Knights, was enough proof that he was fit to lead. He offered up competing in the feast to those who disagreed that he had not proven himself and all agreed that this would suffice to show his potential. Space Marines know no fear but they can feel something akin to it. He had faced and killed a numberless horde of mindless xenos with only his fists and a powered lumber axe but Solomon felt anxious. Anxious that he would somehow shame his chapter and that he was not fit to lead. He calmed his thoughts and placed his hand on the hilt of his axe. It was the lumber axe that had seen him through the tyranid invasion, it had no name but it did not need one. Today it would move like Quicksilver in the name of the Sanguine Knights.

Edited by TrawlingCleaner

Rakton and Solomon eyed one another warily. Thy had heard their brothers’ whispers about their opponents’ prowess, and this would not be as easy fight. The two entered the arena, Rakton planting his feet firmly, an immovable rock, while Solomon rolled his shoulders to loosen the muscles. Solomon, soon to be chapter master of the Sanguine knights had earned that title. His patrician face, an echo of his gene fathers, looked at the assembled crowd of brothers, wondering who would be next to fight. Casting his gaze to Rakton, the Sanguine knight could see his white outline reflected in the burnished Terminator Armour.

“The Angels Resplendent live up to their name, Rakton. It’s a wonder you have time to fight with the amount of polishing that armour needs. I hope I don’t damage it too much”.

Rakton’s slab fronted questor pattern helm remained immobile, but a throaty chuckle emanated from behind the vox grille:

“One finds peace in monotonous tasks, Solomon, the gold you see without purges the darkness you don’t within. Anyway, you’re one to talk, taking to battle in pristine white ceramite”.

“BEGIN” Diabocca shouted.

+++ROUND 1, FIGHT 2+++

The contestants are Captain Neal Rakton of the Angels Resplendant, and Chapter Master Elect Solomon of the Sanguin Knights

Solomon’s jump pack activated at the speed of thought, the mind impulse unit in the pack hard wired to his black carapace, but the Terminator was already moving. Rakton peppered the air above Solomon with bolt rounds preventing him taking flight immediately, the veteran captain using his skills in an attempt to keep his wings clipped. Solomon was a captain and master of the Sanguine Knights, and was not deterred by the rounds, his armour of contempt, thrice sanctified by the temple magos of his chapter deflected the shells as he took to the air through the storm of shrapnel. Rakton was good, but slow. He couldn’t adjust his aim fast enough to hit Solomon who closed the gap rapidly, a white thunderbolt arcing towards the metal encased Rakton. He could end this now: his arm pistoning forwards, Solomon’s relic inferno pistol screamed forth a coruscating beam of incandescent fire…

...Which was met with a halo of silvery actinic lightning. An orb of white fire surrounded Rakton as his Iron Halo absorbed and dampened the energy of the melta beam. Inside his armour, temperature alert klaxons rang in Rakton’s ears and warning runes blinked amber, then red as the heat from Solomons infernus pistol washed over him. No ordinary infernus, this weapon cast a searing, persistent beam rather than the short streams of superheated matter characteristic of the weapons. Rakton began to sweat, the force of the heat a physical blunt object, pushing him to one knee, threatening to overwhelm him. Worms of actinic light crawled at the edges of Rakton’s vision, and he knew it was over.

A thunderclap,and the Iron Halo gave way, it’s energy dissipated in a wave of energy…however overloading the ancient energy field took it’s toll on the infernus pistols power supply also, and it snapped off, leaving little more than heat blued metal in its wake. A scream of rage propelled Solomon to the sizzling form of Rakton, his power axe arcing and shearing chunks of ceramite from the armour of Rakton, several key systems were compromised, communications severed, and one of his eye lenses cracked, rendering Solomon in a hazy green/grey overlain by shimmering static from the cracked lens. Rakton was skilled, but he had sacrificed a modicum of defence in choosing a storm bolter over storm shield for the duel, and was paying for it now. Rakton’s hammer rose and fell, parrying and deflecting Solomon’s blows as best he could, but the Sanguine Knight was part Berzerker, when he let go.

Rakton gave ground and stepped backwards, leading the Sanguin knight into his web. The Knight was fast, but Rakton had weathered all, and Solomon was spending his rage in what was in the end, superficial damage. There, the pace of Solomon’s attacks slowed by a fraction of a second. Rakton began to push back, his parries turning to ripostes and grand, arcing swings of the hammer which began to dance before him, a glowing figure 8 was the after image stuck on the retinas of the mortal servants as they watched.

Solomon had tired and could not parry the blows with force, merely deflecting them, each ringing impact slamming his weapon arm, wider and wider from his body, leaving him open. He gritted his teeth and willed the charge cycle of his infernus pistol to speed up, he needed it now, one more shot…

Rakton’s hammer arced downwards, a lightning wreathed meteor on a path of destruction, he would end this now. The blunt weapon swung down at Solomons right leg, the power axe of his foe dropping to parry the haft of the hammer, but not this time, hammer haft met axe shaft, however the angle of strike was perfect, and Solomon too tired top push the weapon away from his body. The momentum of the hammer broke through Solomon’s guard, taking his axe with it, Solomons army crossing his body as the Thunder Hammer contacted his leg. One more peal of thunder. One lightning strike of pain as the bone beneath the ceramite shattered in four places, and Solomon crunched to the ground.

Solomon’s armour immediately compensated with anti inflammatories and stimm drugs to keep him fighting, but the Captain knew it was over. He looked up at Rakton ready to deliver the finishing hammer blow and raised a pal, fingers outspread.

“Enough, brother, you have bested me this day.”

Rakton planted the head of his hammer on the scorched earth and extended his hand to bring his battle brother to his feet. He was the victor this day, but he knew this glory would be passing, while the bonds of kinship would last forever.

Roll by roll:

Roll for initiative.
Solomon rolls 2 for 3 total with jump pack. Neal rolls a 5.
Neal goes first. Moves 5” forward to 13” distance. 2 SB shots on 2,1. 1 rites rerolled to 2 for 2 hits. Wound on a 1,2. Rerolled to 5,3. Saved on 6.
Solomon jumps 11” to 2” distance. Inferno pistol hits on a 6. Wounds on a 3. 3 to save. Rerolled to 6. Phew. Solomon moves to assault. 4 storm bolter overwatch shots, 1 hit, doesn’t wound.

Solomon rolls 8 to assault and easily makes it in. Solomon strikes first, 4 attacks on 6,5,1,1, rerolled to 6,6,5,2 with rites. 4 wounds on 5,2,1,1,, rerolled to 5,5,3,2. Neal loses 3 wounds on 6,3,3,1 with no rerolls left. Neal attacks back getting 4 hits on 6,6,3,1 rerolled to 6,6,3,3 with rites. 4 wounds on 6,6,3,2. 3 failed saves on 5,3,3,2 for a straight 9 damage. Solomon is taken out brutally.
Neal Rakton wins.


Standings:

gallery_58096_15019_80423.jpg

Thanks for your patience, guys, I got sick last weekend with a presentation at a conference on Weds, so had to take it easy, then was travelling all last week. I'm on christmas vacation for a while, but have a digital codex and will bring some dice with to keep rolling, but writing time is limited during the hols - will continue apace by the second week in Jan (another conference first week in Jan...).

Xen

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