[DW] The Desolation of Innocence (RPG IC Thread)

[Necronaut]

For GM Only:

Opposed Willpower Test (Arcturion)

WP60 + 10 (Frenzy) + 8 (LBE) = 78

Opposed Willpower (Arcturion): 1d100 86

86: Failure with 0 DoF

 

Opposed Willpower Test (Dark Mirror)

WP60 + 10 (Frenzy?) + 8 (LBE?) = 78(?)

Opposed Willpower (Dark Mirror): 1d100 61

61: success with 1 DoS (if Frenzy and LBE apply)

[Mazer Rackham]

Arcturion ONLY:

Spoiler

You are Stunned for one Turn. (Which won't matter...)

The image fades, along with a sense of proximity. Whether the vision was the blessing of the Great Angel, or his power crushed your enemies, no-one will know or think upon but you.

A lingering whisper fades into the cold steel of the hulk's walls, but is it ghosts in the machine, the haunted souls of millennia of explorers and wayfarers in the void...

Or something more.

Arcturion/KT Regent:

After a furious combat, everything is the room is a bloody pulp. You have no cognisance of what happened, except that it was a total massacre, and Arcturion is covered in glistening gore.

Your squad will have witnessed perhaps, the fury of the Lamenters when they are roused to wrath...

++ STRUCTURED TIME ENDS ++

++ NARRATIVE TIME BEGINS ++

+Brother Philemon? Sophis - rendezvous with us as soon as you can - their tide abates.+

Edited July 30, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Machine God]

Iron Father Korvaan moved to the southern door and unlocked it. The door moved back into its recess. 

Kill-Team Regent moved on following the dotted blue line. As he made his way at the Six of Regent, Korvaan reloaded his Storm Bolter. 

[Lysimachus]

Philemon took in the hideous bloodshed of the control room. Something about it felt… wrong. Unholy. An echo of the psychic uncleanness of the Hybrid leader, perhaps?

 

His vox hissed. Sophis.

 

 +++Aye, Brother-Warden, we are nearly at your marker. Two minutes out.+++ 

 

He replied quickly, then switched back to the squad channel.

 

+++Regent, form up. This foe is defeated, but there are many more yet to be cast down.+++

 

With several quick, well-practised movements, Philemon switched out the promethium tank feeding Torrens Ignis. The first was almost empty, and it was unwise to wait any longer to reload. Besides… he felt sure that the remnants were needed for another purpose.

 

He poured a trickle from the tank out onto the deck and on over what was left of the Xenos psyker's corpse. Then he cast the container down beside it. Stepping back, he lit the igniter flame at the tip of his weapon and gently touched it to the end of the trail of sticky, blessed liquid. With a crackle, a line of light flared across the deck and quickly enveloped what was left of the filthy thing. Then the fire started to rise as the rest of the room also caught light. As it did, the Emperor’s Blade prayed softly.

 

"Puritatem ignis. Expurgo maleficium. Puritatem ignis."

 

Edited March 9, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Mazer Rackham]

Kill Team Regent:

The team emerge into a vast hangar bay, littered with the corpses of stealers, and sadly, the blocky shapes of fallen warriors of the Deathwatch.

REFERENCE MAP: (Note The grid is off - it should be 2m x 2m squares).

Spoiler

The tally reaped here is incredible. As you step through the doors, there is a wallop of displaced air, and the body of a Warrior Strain is crushed to the deck under Cordovan's heavy flanged flail.

As the beast squirms, a Marine in power armour adorned with scorpions steps up to it and jams an ancient looking firearms against it's head.

+Disgusting.+

CHOOM.

The ancient weapon cores and cauterises the beast in an instant.

The active warriors immediately append to your dataloops, and varying views and names paint into feeds.

Sophis steps over the fallen and half-immolated beast, to wander in your direction, cradling what Korvaan would know as a volkite caliver in his hands. It too is adorned with his Chapter iconography, and that of the Deathwatch.

+Welcome Regent.+ He breathes heavily, and the scars and ruts of alien claws vex his warplate in myriad spots. +Do you like what we have done with the place?+

Edited July 30, 2022 by Mazer Rackham

[Necronaut]

Arcturion slowly regained his mental faculties as his bloodlust faded, becoming aware bit by bit, detail by detail of the carnage he had wrought around him. His armor was caked with gore and blood sheeted down the ceramite in thick, viscous rivulets to pool on the deck around his greaves. He was breathing heavily, and his twin hearts pounded with such force he thought they might burst out of his chest. Of his foes, little remained to identify them, only disgusting chunks of meat and shattered fragments of bone heaped around the small room. The hybrid magus had suffered a similar fate from the psychic backlash of his telepathic projection. The memory of touching minds with the xenos psyker caused his stomach to churn. Such foulness.

As he surveyed the scene of his rampage, he sensed the Brazen Claw and Tsagaan Chono watching from beyond the heavy portal. Brother Philemon strode into the chamber to survey the scene, and Arcturion could feel a palpable wave of disgust as it washed over the Emperor's Blade. He continued breathing, in-out, in-out, as his pulse continued to crash to its baseline state.

He had come close that time, too close. He swallowed and with a flick of his wrist, shook a great arc of blood from Doombringer's blade, though some yet resided in its fuller and in the recessed letters which proudly proclaimed the sword's name. With a sneer and a narrowing of his eyes, a sheet of psychic fire washed down from the crossguard to the tip of the blade, purging any remnants of the xenos.

He turned to follow the others back out of the room, sparing the burning corpse of the magus a passing glance. Oily black smoke poured off of the twisted body of the dead psyker, signifying its final obliteration.

He now walked a razor's edge whose point vanished infinitely.

+Compliance, Sergeant.+

Edited July 30, 2022 by Necronaut

[Trokair]

As they headed towards their destination Nergüi opened a private channel to Arcturion.

+Brother, are you in need of a blessing or counsel?+   

 

Before long they reached a hanger bay where Sophis and the others had wrought their own pyres of denizen. Spying more fallen brothers sadden the Chaplain, but he suspected that they would have hardly gotten here any quicker even if he had left the others soul and final gift behind, there was just too much death here. The Hulk was devouring them.

[Necronaut]

Arcturion hesitated before responding, unsure himself of what darkness lurked in his soul, what evil stalked him across time and space.

+I will gladly accept your benediction, Brother-Chaplain. As for counsel... I fear the path I tread is either uncharted or trod only by madmen. Let us report to Watch-Commander Cordovan and his entourage first.+

He watched the distant Red Scorpion execute a xenos with the fantastically wrought archeotech firearm, clearly a relic of the Heresy. The epistolary sneered at the Warden from afar and started off towards the knot of surviving Astartes, crunching bone shards and crushing pulverized xenos flesh under his heavy boots.

[Mazer Rackham]

Cordovan slams down his tower shield, the battlement of plasteel and ceramite crunches onto the steel grate of the deck beneath his feet, and he unfolds from his combat stance. Claw marks desecrate the silverite reliefs of the massive plate, but for all that, it adds to his stature, instead of merely being punishment. The scars of battle are his to wear, to be proud of.

Many are the mortal lords who do not wear such proof of their honour.

+Well met, Kill Team Regent. As you fought, you drew the enemy forces, and divided, they could not stand. We were the anvil. It pleases this Son of Dorn to be so. Perhaps, Brother Philemon, Lord Guilliman would approve?+

He folds up his flail, and stows it.

+Arcturion, still alive I see?+

Sophis' toothed helm turns to regard the Lamenter. He says nothing, but his shoulders roll in a shrug.

As Cordovan speaks, signal warnings open on your HUDs, and the great doors at the end of the hangar bay begin to part, sucking all the air from the room in a sudden, hurricane gush. They peel back fully, to thump locked, the whole structure reverberating with the massive retention maglocks gripping the hold's doors.

A frame of twisted metal and blasted hull captures the pale starlight, as it shines on an object under it's own power.

The Deathwatch vessel approaches, a wedge of menace and weapons, a Thunderhawk, resplendent in the silver, crimson and sable of the Watch and the Ordo Xenos. It lands with all the grace of a ceramite brick, the front assault ramp spilling down, and Inquisitorial stormtroopers spill out, their weapons not pointing at anyone, but the hellguns are fully powered and ready. They are faceless, inscrutable in their reflec-obsidian visors, and they cleverly avoid the corpses of the filth littering the floor.

A figure in chastened silver power armour descends, a tall human, crimson robles fluttering around him in the strange melange of gravity and swell of engines, the doors of the hangar closing with a thud. His helm turns to Cordovan.

+My compliments Commander. The God-Emperor's Will is manifest. The Ordo will now begin the operations in earnest.+

At the mention of the Master of Mankind, Sophis formed the Aquila.

+Our teams lie scattered, many dead, Inquisitor Hadrax,+ Cordovan continued, +the Deathwatch will first secure this hangar, and then...+

His fist clasps the air now re-filling the vast space, the heavy terminator armour creaks as his gauntlet tightens.

+...We will cleanse this nest of filth properly.+

Players feel free to add any responses, thoughts or observations in narrative prose. Once that is completed, I will wrap this Mission.

[Lysimachus]

Philemon offered a short bow of respect to the officers of the Watch, then chuckled deeply at Cordovan's mention of the sainted Primarch.

 

"I believe he would, Brother-Commander! It was an honour to aid your efforts. I must also report that Kill-Team Regent have performed their duties admirably, and brought praise to the God Emperor by their courage and skill."

 

The Emperor's Blade then stood to one side, watching as the familiar shape of the Thunderhawk entered and the servants of the Inquisition disembarked. He found himself nodding as Cordovan spoke to Hadrax. The task was not yet done.
 

Edited March 9, 2023 by Lysimachus

[Machine God]

At mention of the Emperor, Iron Father Korvaan made the Sign of the Cog with both hands. 

After the Watch-Commander and the Inquisitor had finished speaking, Korvaan paused respectively for a second. A long time for one of the True Flesh. Long enough for a Noospheric Uplink. 

"The Omnissiah's Will is manifest. Mission conduct, execution and data extrapolation from the Xenos encountered, has been forwarded."

 

 

 

 

 

Edited January 16, 2023 by Machine God
Typo

[Trokair]

The Hulk was far from cleansed, and no doubt its denizen remained as yet unnumbered, but a breachhead had been established. The work would continue.

Singing a prayer of thanks to the emperor and his nine sons he turned to each of his squad made for a more individual benediction. Their minds and souls would need to be as strong as their armour to survive this place, and they had taken not just physical wounds on their way but spiritual ones as well.   

[Machine God]

"I welcome your the words and actions Chaplain Nergui, The Tenth thanks you!" said Iron Father Korvaan. 

 

"Pass me your Storm Bolter, I will have a look at it and appease it's humours.

 

 

 

 

 

Edited January 16, 2023 by Machine God
Examine Nergui's weapon

[Mazer Rackham]

+ MISSION COMPLETED +

MISSION STATUS: VICTORY

This Mission is now finished. This thread will continue to be our (IC).

Please do not post until the next Mission commences.

Player Rewards will be calculated and given later.

Edited July 31, 2022 by Mazer Rackham