To Plunder The Stars Themselves, Episode III

[Black Cohort]

The time of the axe had come, Decimus drew his power axe.  He thumbed the activation rune as he charged the marine already engaging Draak. His blade swept diagonally, aiming to liberate the marine of his right leg.

WS 48 +10 charge bonus.  Roll 47

Damage 1d10+18 =26 pen 7

[Lysimachus]

Round 2 Summary:

[x] Brynjarr Cont.

Free: Call Furious Assault at a cost of 3CP, 1 Remaining.

(x) Odysseus: Charge Bone 1, Hit with Force Sword, Reaction used.
Dam 20 - TB8 - AV2(8-Pen6) = 10 Wounds suffered.
Abhor the Witch test passed, no extra Force Weapon Damage suffered.
(x) Decimus: Charge Bone 2, Hit!
Dodge, Roll: 86, Fail!
Dam 26 - TB8 - AV1(8-Pen7) = 17 Wounds suffered.

(x) Draak: Attack Bone 1 with Thunder Hammer, Hit!
Reaction used.
Dam 37 - TB8 - AV0(8-Pen9) = 31 Wounds suffered. Bone 1 dies!
(x) Svelk: Bolt Pistol at Bone 5, Hit. Dodge used.
Dam 13 - TB4(Felling) - AV0(8-Pen9) = 7 Wounds suffered.
(x) Brynjarr: Charge Bone 2 with Power Axe, Hit. Dodge used.
Dam 21 - TB8 - AV3(10-Pen7) = 10 Wounds suffered (27 in total).

 

Edited July 22, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Lysimachus]

Orphiel:

Fenix does not falter, immediately accepting the open invitation to attack. He lashes out with a colossal vertical sweep that smashes the Crozius up across Varn's chest plate, under his chin and towards the ceiling. Even Terminator armour is moved by such a massive blow, and the Tyrant is thrown from his feet, hurled backwards through the air.

Such a blow would kill most men, most Astartes even. But Varn hits the floor with a deck-shaking impact and rolls with it, ending up on one knee but somehow still upright. It is a remarkable movement, showing incredible control and understanding of the strengths and limitations of Terminator armour. However, the slab-like visor of his helm is ruined, massively bent out of shape. With a careful hand he places his axe on the deck and reaches up to remove the twisted wargear and hang it carefully from his belt.

There is blood on his cheek, a long cut already clotting and healing. His aquiline features are flushed, his usually cold, cruel eyes blazing with genuine anger. But it seems directed as much at you as it is at Narakiel.

"Damn me!" he bellows at the Chaplain. "Where is your honour? He has followed the orders you gave him to the letter! He was never on our side, always on yours! I have known it every step of the way!"

"And you Orphiel! Look at what you have given your life to! These fools give you no trust, no respect, not even a chance to prove your loyalty! Then they cast you out and try to kill you! What kind of brotherhood is that? You are in the right! Not them!"

***

[Mazer Rackham]

Cramp and shock beat at him, the snap of the crozius, the clang of an axe. Angry voices clashing, 

Two stone giants fighting over his soul, titans towering above him as those of Ygrekian myths. One Scylla, the other Charybdis, if one was evaded, it threw the little boat trying to sail home into the path of the other, to be broken into matchwood splinters. Flotsam and Jetsam on the Sea of Ag's Gean.

He remembered that night in the house when his parents and uncle rowed over Orphiel - of course his name was different then - before elevation, before the Trial.

"He can't go - that's my only son!" His father.

"His elevation will honour our hall! Think of the settlement, Gideon!" His uncle, a Provost for the town, a lawmaker and representative of the Imperium.

"You tricked him! What was it? A Sovreign in a beer flagon?"

"The Emperor's Angels need warriors!"

"For him to do as he's told and just march off a cliff?"

Words became blows, as each grappled with the other, knocking him aside, where he collapsed against the small table with the lit candles. The table toppled, and he tried to right it, but it was falling and -

++STOP!++

Orphiel reeled, seeing the rich puddle of Astartes blood coating the leg of his plate, the hem of his robe. Larraman cells clogged it already, but he was in dire need of respite. To hell with it.

Memory alone drove his palms to his handguns, filling his hands with death. He tumbled away, falling onto his left side, pistols out in front, almost hands in supplication.

There be worse than monsters here.

Killer Angels.

Spoiler

Free Action: Solo Mode Stoic Defence (6 Ablative Wounds)

Free Action: Draw pistols

Free Action: Fall over and move 2.5m (allowed by Semi/Stoic and only having one working leg...)

Full Action: Multiple Attacks (Semi-Auto Burst) (Target Narky Hell)

BS Test (BP): 51 + 10 (SAB) +10 (Bolt Mastery) + 10 (Range) = 81

D100: 03 PASS, 2 Hits

Hits (2 x Arm): 24 (RF), 26 (RF) at Pen 4.

BS Test (PP Maximal): 51 + 10 (SAB) + 10 (Range) = 61

D100: 37 PASS, 2 Hits

Hits (2 x Leg): 18, 26 (RF) at Pen 10.

If any hits cause Critical Wounds, Armour Ability Activates: Death Is Joy, +2 to Crits.

Spoiler

 

Rounds exploded across the Chaplain's right forearm and elbow, incandescent blue-silver streaks punching into right knee and groin.

Edited July 21, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

The Angels Veteran Sergeant had wounded him with a riposte to his right leg, Eisen had turned some of the blow but the sword had pierced through to draw his nannite-enriched blood.

The other Tactical had grazed his cuirass with a combat blade, another tale to tell.

 

Draak's helmet lenses flashed red with controlled hatred, like a predator emerging from the shadows.

Odysseus had called for a Furious Charge and this further stoked Draak's burning furnace of hate.

"Do please excuse my lack of manners Angel of Redemption, I am Draak of the Iron Gods and we are Killteam Cutlass!" said Draak through his helmet speakers, his voice laden with venom and hatred. "I congratulate you on your swordsmanship, I knew another with such exquisite skills."

"Yes Orphiel, I intend to hang some paintings!" Draak laughed.

With a fervent burst of speed seemingly incredible for one such as his size, Draak leapt up off of the ground. As he leapt up he mag-locked Grendel to his backpack and took a two-handed grip on his weapon as he swung it down onto his foe's helmet.

"This is Grond!" Draak roared.

 

 

 

Free Action: Quickdraw - Stow Grendel.

Full Action: Called Shot: Head. WS48 -20 (Hard Difficulty) = 28. Result: 07, Pass 2DoS.

2D10+5 +14SB, Pen 9, Concussive

9+9+5+14 = 37 Damage.

 

 

Grond fell like the judgement of doom, with a thunderclap it impacted with the helmet of the Angels Veteran Sergeant! The top of the helm crumpled as it was forced down onto the sergeant's shoulders and then the concussive shockwave knocked him down dead.

 

+++Geneseed for you Vesalius, Corpse-Taker+++ Draak voxed on a private link. 

 

 

Edited December 21, 2022 by Machine God
Changed Draak's roar to Bold

[Beren]

Another shot, flaring in the close confines.

 

Bolt Pistol Attack at engaged marine.

BS43 

d100 = 08 (3 DoS)

Damage = 1d10(1,4 (tearing)) + 9 = 13   Pen 9 Felling(1) 

 

[Trokair]

Odysseus’s call drew Brynjarrs attention back to Sergeant. Had he overestimated Drags ability, was he in danger from the two assailants despite wielding the thunder hammer?  As Odysseus and Decimus rushed past him Brynjarr set analysis aside, this was time to act not speculate.

 

Spoiler

Free Action swap inferno pistol for Power Axe
Furious Assult
Charge A1 or 2 (whoever is alive), WS45
D100:43, Hit Location Body
Damage. (1d10) 1 + 8 + 12 (Sb) = 21 at Pen 7

 

Edited July 21, 2022 by Trokair

[Lysimachus]

Orphiel:

"Your advocacy simply proves my point, heretic," Narakiel growls. "The traitor will die."

He rotates his wrist to bring the Crozius up to a guard position. A sneer twists his scarred face.

"But I will kill you first, if you insist."

The Tyrant smiles bleakly, raising his axe in a mocking salute.

"I was hoping you would say that."

With a snarl, the Chaplain charges forward. The two titans come together with a resounding crash. As a swordsman, you might have believed that there is always more skill involved in the use of a steel. This combat proves otherwise. Swings, thrusts, parries and dodges - precision in timing and power are just as important as in a duel of blades. Maul and axe are of similar length and weight, making for comparable reach and speed in attack and defence. Axe and Crozius heads crack against one another with sparks of electrum, or are deflected by glittering Rosarius or Halo fields. It is a remarkably well matched battle.

Narakiel uses his off-hand to balance his weight and occasionally to add power to two-handed swings or throw blocks or punches at his opponent. Varn does much the same… but he is limiting himself, for his right hand is encased in the brutal mass of his power fist. Were he to use it with its power field engaged, the High Interrogator could not hope to stand. Nor has Varn yet used the combi-bolter built into the fist's wide vambrace. The Tyrant's odd sense of personal honour is showing through again.

But men such as you and Narakiel have little time for the rules of fighting a 'proper' duel.

Orphiel: Plas/Bolt SABs.
Narakiel's Rosarius Saves:
Bolt Pistol: 43, 76, 1 Hit goes through.
Plasma Pistol: 13, 54, 1 Hit goes through.
Bolt Pistol Dam: 24 - TB10 - AV10(14-Pen4) = 4 Wounds suffered.
Plasma Pistol Dam: 18 - TB10 - AV4(14-Pen10) = 4 Wounds suffered (8 in total).

The bolts and sunbursts explode against Narakiel's massive frame, penetrating only minimally through the finest defence the Imperium can produce. But it is enough to distract him for a moment, making one of his swings a fraction too hard, sending his Crozius an inch too far. For a warrior like Varn, it is all the opening he needs. He avoids the deadly maul and the curving axe lashes out, cutting through the Rosarius field and on through the overextended vambrace of Narakiel's ornate armour. Between the blade's energised edge and the Tyrant's sheer strength, the limb is sliced away cleanly at the wrist. Along with the Interrogator's weapon, it spins away to clatter against a bulkhead and fall to the deck.

The wound is instantly cauterised and the Angel bulls forward, his other hand reaching down for his stormbolter. The loss of a hand is inconvenient, but nothing that would ever prevent a true Astartes from fighting on. But Varn is already moving, just enough to allow Narakiel's massive weight to glance off his right side. As the Angel passes him, Varn continues his spin. It brings him right around and he hits out again, slashing the axe across the ribbed joint at the back of Narakiel's right knee. It is a precise blow, targeted against the weakest point of his heavy armour.

The Chaplain falls forward, hamstring and servo-musculature severed alike. He drops to one knee, just as you did. He lets out a roar of pain, frustration and unsatisfied kill-urge. He is about to pull himself slowly to his feet again when Varn's fist, now crackling with deadly power, appears in his eyeline.

The Tyrant glances over at you, looking… irritated? …then back down at his opponent.

"Do not bother. It was a good fight, but now it is over."

***

 

[Lysimachus]

Round 2 Summary:

[x] Terminators A:

Vt Sgt calls for Bolter Assault at a cost of 3CP, 2 Remaining.
All Terminators Charge Move towards Kill-Team Cutlass. (Still not quite inside the shrunken Force Dome, so no point in Ranged Attacks!)

However…

Regular Actions:
Red 1: Charge at Brynjarr (and Decimus): WS50 +10(Charge) = 60, Roll: 36, Hit on (36=63) Body.
Dam 1d10+6 +SB11 Pen6
6+6+11 = 23 - TB10 - AV9(11+4-Pen6) = 4 Wounds suffered.

Red 2: Charge at Brynjarr: WS50 +10(Charge) = 60, Roll: 14, Hit on (14=41) Body
Succesful Dodge!

Red 3, 4, 5: Not in Charge Range, can't Run. Full Move west.

[x] Tactical B:
Maintain Immovable Defence
Green 6: SAB at Svelk:
BS45 +10(SAB) +10(Short Range) +10(ImmDef) -20(Engaged) = 55, Roll: 42, Hit with 1DoS. 1 Hit on (42=24) Left Arm. Successful Dodge!

Green 8: SAB at Svelk:
BS45 +10(SAB) +10(Short Range) +10(ImmDef) -20(Engaged) = 55, Roll: 56, Miss! (Just!!!)

Green 0: SAB at Svelk:
BS45 +10(SAB) +10(Short Range) +10(ImmDef) -20(Engaged) = 55, Roll: 68, Miss!

Round 2 Ends.

Stand by for Round 3 Post and Map.

Edited July 22, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Trokair]

Dodge Ag48
D100:46! Just. 

[Lysimachus]

Orphiel:

More of the Iron Gods have appeared in the wide corridor, assault and close quarter specialists of all kinds, equipped with a gruesome and varied collection  of blades, mauls, bolters and short-ranged special weapons. They are led by a dark-skinned warrior in Terminator plate armed with a heavy flamer and lightning claw. You do not know him beyond rumours, but he matches the description of the fierce Mbo'kamo, leader of Varn's personal guard. Behind him there are others you recognise. Radago S'ynek, with his dead golden eyes and sinuous blades. Ithan Khor, the odd Techmarine with his hanging skulls, huge chain-axe, and combi-plasma glowing brightly. Brutes and renegades, yet they move with focus and unity.

Varn quickly waves them on towards the bulkhead portal.

"Go, GO!" he roars. "Cutlass needs your aid!"

Then he looks back at Narakiel, speaking more quietly, softly enough that you can only just hear his next words.

"I do not want to kill you, Master Fenix. I have no argument with the First Legion. The battles here on the Pride and out in the void are almost done. The loss of the men on your gunships has put you at a serious disadvantage. If you will call for a ceasefire, I will order the same. I will allow you and the rest of your men to leave. If your 'Inner Circle' does not wish to continue the arrangement I made with Captain Admiel, so be it."

Varn looks over at you for a moment. He smiles wryly and nods, an expression of genuine respect.

"If that is the case, Orphiel is no longer required as an observer of our covenant. He is welcome to return home with you… if that is what he wishes… and as long as I have your word that his honour will be restored fully and he will suffer no punishment. I swear by my own lifeblood that - aside from that last… unfortunate… volley, which was delivered only in self-defence - he has followed the orders your brethren gave him and has always remained loyal to your cause alone."

Narakiel looks incredulous, then his eyes narrow again with paranoia and furious hatred.

"We will fight you to the last Marine, heretic, to the last bolt and the last breath. We are the First! We make no compacts with renegades!!"

He spits the words out, then looks over at you, his blazing eyes full of utter contempt.

"The judgement on… that one… is given. He is Fallen. He will be hunted down, taken and forced to repent. Only then will he be allowed to die."

Varn frowns, then looks up at you and shrugs.

***

Edited July 22, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Orphiel groans, slowly pushing up form the deck.  Stumbling across to the kneeling Chaplain, his knuckles tighten until Charybdis' grip squeaked. He nodded to the Pirate with respect for his skill and station.

For his honour.

His feet had trodden many paths, the screaming in a burning building, the agony of selection, the note in his holofile suggesting his moral flexibility was advantageous. The prison visits, the protection of the Secret, and the tongues loosened as even Narakiel threatened his own. He wondered why Varn saved him, why the offer was given of repentance and death.

Narakiel's promise of both.

Maybe the Pirate King saw something of his own past there..? He met the eyes of the Tyrant, steady, hard to read. Shadows haunted there which spoke to Orphiel of his own spiritual demons. Narakiel offered absolution through purgation, the zealotry of purity...

Edited July 22, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Beren]

Ag = 44 

d100= 14 (3DoS)

The blast of his bolt pistol sends Svelk's opponent staggering a step back, and he closes in again. He hears bolter rounds flash behind him, but he keeps moving, a constant shudder of jerking feints and parries that keeps him tight to his target, denying the other attackers any opportunity to get a clean shot that doesn't risk hammering into their comrade instead.

Edited July 22, 2022 by Beren

[Mazer Rackham]

He could feel the hand on his shoulder. Two days he's sat on the small bluff near the shore of the lake. His eyes never wavered, pushing past and through the throng of people. He could smell the stink of burned tallow, sickly-sweet flesh. His own, theirs.

A large man in uniform, his breastplate inlaid with gold against the polished plasteel shook him gently.

When Orphiel looked up, he found steady, old eyes.

"What happened lad?"

"What else?" a rough voice growled, "he burned down his own house!  His parents, and a Provost were in there!"

Orphiel was silent. He felt guilty. Maybe he looked guilty. He wanted to speak, but the silence dared him - and the words wouldn't come. He didn't cry.

"That's enough Murillo! Bloody guttersnipe! I know this lad, who do you think brought oil for my lamps?"

"Provost Marshal - the law is the law! A bailiff died under his roof, his life is forfeit!"

Orphiel saw agreement on the Marshal's face, but the great distaste that came with it, flavouring his expression with rancour.

The Marshal doffed his helmet to scratch a thinning pate. He looked around desperately seeking an alternative. A lamp lit behind his eyes. "We're you going to the trials?"

Orphiel nodded.

"Then you've got a decision to make. It's a pointless hanging now, or die with meaning among the Angels."

Death was the only absolution.

Charybdis was heavy in his hand.

 

[Necronaut]

+Placeholder+

Dodge vs All Out Attack (Bone #5)

Dodge: 1d100 7

07: success

[Mazer Rackham]

His thumb acted of its own volition, depressing the power stud as he had so many times to set the weapon to maximal discharge. He held it down, the pressure of the photohydrogen flask alarmingly sudden as crimson warning sprang into his helmet, lit up the side of the pistol.

When the cooling bell shroud began to hiss, the coils were brilliant beyond normal sight could stand. The section of the ship lit up in millions of candlepower, thrusting back the darkness at his will. Containment thresholds, long held by well-maintained magnetic fields controlling its raw fury,  began to feel the strain...

[Lysimachus]

Round 3:

Kill-Team Cohesion: 1

Initiative Order:
[ ] Vesalius | (SOLO) | Ag6+9=15 | WOUNDS 15/20 | FATE 0/4
[ ] Draak | (SQUAD) | Ag4+10=14 | WOUNDS 13/23 | FATE 0/2
[ ] Tactical A | (SOLO) | Ag4+7=11 | WOUNDS suffered: Bro 2: 27, Bro 5: 07
[ ] Decimus | (SQUAD) | Ag3+8=11 | WOUNDS 10/23 | FATE 2/3
[ ] Svelk | (SQUAD) | Ag4+6=10 | WOUNDS 13/23 | FATE 2/3
[ ] Brynjarr | (SQUAD) | AG4+5=9 | WOUNDS  19/23 | FATE 2/4
[ ] Odysseus | (SQUAD) | Ag5+3=8 | WOUNDS 22/22 | FATE 2/4
[ ] Terminator A | (SQUAD) | Ag2+6=8 | WOUNDS suffered: Sgt 1: 00, Vet 2: 22, Vet 3: 29, Vet 4: 00, Vet 5: 22
[ ] Tactical B | (SQUAD) | Ag4+2=6 | WOUNDS suffered: Bro 6: 32, Bro 8: 31, Bro 0: 00

Enemies:
Tactical Squad Equipment:
Power Armour, Bolter with Kraken Penetrator Ammo, Bolt Pistol, Combat Knife, 3 Frag and Krak Grenades.

Terminator Squad Equipment:
Indomitus TDA, Stormbolter with Kraken Penetrator Ammo, Power Fist.
Red 1: Vt Sgt, replaces Power Fist with Power Sword.
Red 2: Gunner replaces Stormbolter with Heavy Flamer.
Red 3: Replaces Power Fist with Chain Fist.

Each Combat Squad is in Squad Mode and will act at the same Initiative step.

Reinforcements:
As noted in the previous narrative post, reinforcements are inbound. You might be tempted to pull back from the Terminators, but if you do it will obviously take longer for the help to reach you!
 

Edited July 22, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Fallen. A shattered sword, a past erased.

How ironic that his pride trapped him where guilt did not, yet Narakiel was a prisoner of both. He wondered if there was a warning there.

The plasma pistol continued to glow, reaching critical mass as he pushed it close to Narakiel’s face, could feel the flesh and hair singing, could remember the stink of it from a ruined house. The trigger – never a firing stud – tightened against his finger. He could feel the break, the moment when the two piezoelectric terminals would connect and blow this fool’s head off.

The line he wouldn’t cross blurred, but remained. He nodded, and the starlight died.

He slammed his head forward with cannonball force, feeling the Chaplain’s face break under his casque, the Maximus plate registering the Astartes blood spatter across his chisel helm. Orphiel limped to the Chaplain’s helmet, whispering into the vox-scribe.

+The walls of Jerichus, the Horn blowing!+

A heartbeat later, Orphiel tore the Rosarius from Narakiel’s chest, before the thunderclap of an emergency teleport took him away. It left an enriched ozone fug in the compartment. Another trick of the Deathwing.

Orphiel wiped his visor and looked down at his bloodstained hand. Persona Obliteratus. Yet the loss inflicted would shame Narakiel, maybe have him Excommunicated for failure. Maybe they would meet again. Holstering his sidearm, he scooped up the storm bolter and Crozius, wincing from the pain and distaste as he prised the fingers of a dead hand free.

At least he was...re-armed.

He would surrender the weapons and Rosarius to Ghoran after, for someone....more suitable. Then maybe, he’d just pass out for a while. Away from Vesalius.

Take thy beak from out my heart, and shift thy form from off my door!

He heard the hard edge to his voice as he regarded Talek Varn. +Permission to join the relief of Cutlass, sir?+

Edited July 23, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

"Granted, lad. But before you go, a point you need to consider. My arrangement with your former masters is, it seems, over. Therefore our own arrangement must change. If you choose to stay, you will be welcomed. Or you can follow the example set by the Traveller."

He shrugs.

"...I am not such a bad master to follow. Better than some, it appears. But if you do stay, I will have your oath, your word of honour to serve me faithfully, to take no action against me, the Iron Gods, or the men and women of the Solios Nebula for as long as you remain. You can choose to leave any time you wish, of course, just as any of my followers can - but until that day… no more dual loyalties. Think on it if you wish, but I will require an answer."

***
 

Edited July 23, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Orphiel canted his head, displaying he was listening. Openness was what was required now. They spoke as men, despite the disparity in their 'ranks.'

He didn't interrupt, nor make any rush exhortations, he nodded slowly, firmly.

"A man cannot have two masters," Admiel warned on Orphiel's departure to the Crag. "He will love one and loathe the other. There may come a time when you have to choose between this agreement and one which serves a higher cause. Listen to your heart, listen to your faith."

The Emperor worked in mysterious ways. The Eldar, Degier's vision, his own misgivings over Narakiel's revelation.

He clamped the Crozius in place of Zachariah's Steel and handled the Chaplain's skull helmet, offering it to the Pirate King. Even bandit lords needed a crown.

+I will think on it carefully, and answer. For now, a trophy of your victory, sir.+ He still couldn't call Varn 'lord' - too raw. +Or at least something to protect your head.+

Edited July 23, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Lysimachus]

Varn lets out a bark of rough amusement as he takes the skull-featured helm.

"Gods, that's a fearsome face...! It will add to the damn tales, and no mistake!"

He grimaces, then carefully lifts and lowers it over his head. The remarkable design of Astartes armour allows for the interchange of pieces from different suits, and the helm connects immediately to his warplate's systems. The red eyes begin to glow.

"Still, it fits tolerably well."

He nods.

"Let's go help your brothers."

***

[Necronaut]

The force of his blow against the Angel of Redemption embedded the chisel-headed blades of the bulkhead shears deep into his foe’s breastplate and chest cavity, causing the Astartes to briefly be suspended in mid-air. With a further grunt of effort, Vesalius closed the hydraulically-driven shear heads and obliterated most of the Angel’s internal organs, crushing both of his hearts between the cruel industrial knives. The invader gasped and gurgled blood, weakly reaching out at the apothecary before slumping over. Vesalius, however, was not prepared for the power-armored bulk of an Astartes, and was dragged over by the bulkhead shears which were harnessed to his chest, and the vengeful blow from the Angel’s brother which might have otherwise taken his head clean off instead grazed off of the side of his pointed helm.

 

Pulled down to his knees, he attempted to wrench the brutal boarding tool free of the deceased Astartes’s war-plate but to no avail, as the shears had become jammed in the steel and ceramite. Thinking quickly, Vesalius disengaged the harness and drew his quick-razer in an efficient upward slash, attempting to catch his assailant’s arm at the wrist.

 

He and the bone-and-green Astartes circled each other like in the ritual duels fought amongst his former brothers, far removed. He allowed himself a moment to look past his opponent and spied a wall of grey ceramite tromping down the hall towards him and a grim smile split his scarred features.

 

+Cutlass, reinforcements have arrived! We may yet survive this day!+

 

 

Half Action (Auto-Senses): Called Shot (Head) vs Angel #5

WS45 + 10 (gang up) - 10 (Called Shot) = 45

Called Shot: 1d100 96

96: failure! With 5 DoS (CRIPPLING FAILURE!)

 

Free Action: Draw Combat Blade

Free Action: Drop Bulkhead Shears

 

Half-Action: Standard Attack vs Angel #5

WS45 + 10 (gang-up) = 55

Standard Attack: 1d100 51

51: success with 0 DoS

Hit location: 15 (right arm)

 

Combat Blade Damage: 1d10R + SB, Pen 2

Combat Blade Damage: 1d10 5

5 (d10) + 14 (SB: Feat of Strength) = 19 damage, Pen 2

Edited July 25, 2022 by Necronaut

[Machine God]

+Cutlass, reinforcements have arrived! We may yet survive this day!+

Draak's compartmentalised mind heard Vesalius speak over the vox using the old code settings. Draak used his back door code to change Vesalius' vox setting to the current one and relayed the message over the vox.

 

Draak still faced the Tactical Marine. Satisfied that his hammer-craft was up to scratch Draak set up a feint aimed at his foe's left shoulder, but at the last second he turned the blow to hit against his opponents right leg.

 

Half Action: Feint - Left Arm.

WS 48 = 48. Result: 07, Pass 4DoS.

Half Action: Standard Attack.

WS 48 = 48. Result: 47, Pass. Right Leg.

2D10+5 +14SB, Pen 9, Concussive.

4 + 10 +1RF + 5 + 14 = 34 Damage.

[Lysimachus]

Round 3 Summary:

[x] Vesalius: Attack Bone 5, Hit.
Dam 19 - TB8 - AV6(8-Pen2) = 5 Wounds suffered (now 12 in total)

[x] Draak: Attack Bone 2:
Feint: Bone 2 Opposed Roll: 54, Fail, cannot Dodge or Parry next attack.
Dam 34 - TB8 - AV0(8-Pen9) = 26 Wounds suffered (now 53!). Bone 2 dies.

[x] Tactical 1: Bone 5:
Activate Feat of Strength
All-Out Attack
WS45 +20(AOA) = 65, Roll: 40, Hit on (40=04) Head. Dodge failed.
Dam 1d10 +SB14 Pen2
8+14 = 24 - TB8 - AV7(9-Pen2) = 7 Wounds suffered?

[ ] Decimus:
[ ] Svelk:
[ ] Brynjarr:
[ ] Odysseus:

Edited July 25, 2022 by Lysimachus

[Black Cohort]

 Decimus pivoted, swinging at the terminator beside him.  Is blade drifting wide.  

i rolled an 81