[DW:30K] The Serpent's Cowl (IC)

[Mazer Rackham]

OOC: No sweat, daddio.

 

The World Eaters, either ignorant or contemptuous of the shot, continue to piledrive forward, great chugs of black sand spurting into the air as the train of blood-addled maniacs continues to peddle downhill, down the track to the fatal terminus.

 

Full Action: Run.

 

Torken [ ]

Sharrak [ ] 

[Xin Ceithan]

Sharrak

 

Closing the distance, the Techmarine could now clearly  see  the Castellax  integrated weapon system cycling up, felt it‘s onboard senseorium tracking targets among the onrushing World Eaters. 

 

Sharrak allowed himself a short breath of relief, invigorated by the proximity of the automata. 

His own tracking  reticulae cycled back, remained a steady orange. 

 

Potential hostile. That was the best the galaxy had to offer…

 Despite  the battle automata ‘s strange markings and unfamiliar hull scribbles, it was still obviously  wholesome, cast from the sacred design patterns as laid out by the Omnissiah. Reverance for the Machine was instilled into the natives of Medusa early on where so much of their  lives were dependent on it.

Or lost because of it.

 

With practiced ease, Sharrak   began to inspect  the general condition of the Castellax, recognizing familiar motive engrams and weapon response patterns on the venerated STC pattern chassis, took note  of  minor adjustments from it’s original Martian orthodoxy, regarded it’s flame shaped markings and unfamiliar rows of runic scripture.

Sharrak had heard tales of the artificers of Nocturne, yet never had the opportunity to witness their craft in person as of yet.

So, even under  the current circumstances, the Techmarine took a moment to offer a silent praise those unknown Artificers  and their contribution to the Great Work. Even damaged and amidst the caustic atmospheric conditions of Isstvaan, none could deny the skill and artisanship  that had obviously gone into  the upkeep of the Automata. Fine workmanship, indeed. 

 

Well, maybe a  bit on the overly ostentatious side though, Sharrak thought with a smirk. 

He could already imagine how they’d get disapproving looks from his Clan’s senior forge masters. Not to mention the Primarch…

 

The …Primarch…

 

Sharrak cursed. 

 

No.

 

Don’t go there.

 

Something exploded nearby. Sharrak focussed on the noise. No time. Not for that…Focus.

 

…Focus…

 

Sharrak turned his attention back outwards, towards the Castellax and its unfamiliar markings along its familiar bulk. He cast forward his chrome colored left, snaking mechadentrites whirring Ly sliding out  along side it.

 

Carefully, the Techmarine extended his true senses  out to noospheric aura of the Battle Automata. 

What he was about to attempt would have been difficult on an Automata coded to a different Forge, a different Clan… But attempting the unsupervised binding of a semi-rogue frame from another Legion? 

 

The bonding of a mechanical avatar of the Omnissiah and one of His flesh born disciples was a sacred thing, a high ritual among  the Legio Cybernetica, something akin to the vows of union between a synod crew of the Collegium Titanicus and their God Engine.  An attempt to establish such a bond here alone and on his own, on this defaced site, among shrieking clouds of wraith-code was not only outrageous but inherently dangerous, a risk to their Omnissian shaped bodily forms as much as to their inner essence  partitions of the Motive Force.

 

Even so… 

 

 !! Leave not the Automata without the guidance of a true  mind opened to the glory of the Omnissiah!! 

 

The tenets of the Ordo Cybernetica streamed through Sharrak’s mind-stream. Sharrak felt his mind relax as he joined the inner chorus feed. This was both his duty and his calling. Thus, he followed it for a few precious nanoseconds seconds, then reached further into his memetic banks, unspooling the formulae of the ritual engrams  regarding the auxiliary binding among the turmoil of   combat operation.

 

He began canting…

 

+++ Ave Omnissiah! Gloria Omnissiah! 

Deviationem cogitationis non verae mentis suae natam abominamini…+++

 

Spoiler

-moves into position ( Half Action : Move)

- begins / establishes Battle Automata Protocols ( Half- Action: Tech Use)

 

Edited January 24 by Xin Ceithan
Placeholder …replaced

[Mazer Rackham]

OOC: Hopefully have it right this time:

 

Hordes Actions:
 

Spoiler

Horde A Opens Fire at the Redoubt (Auxiliaries)

SAB: Lasguns.

Attack: 1 HIT. 7 Dam

Attack: 2 MISS.

SAB: Plasma Gun:

Attack 1: LOL FAIL, MISS.

Attack 2: HIT. 11 Dam.

FAB: Heavy Bolter. 2 HIT (Explosive, 3 HITS)

Human Auxiliaries take 5 Mag Dam.

 

Hordes B and C drop into firing positions (Free) and take Aim (Full).

 

All Hordes are armed the same.

 

Tyr-Ix-375 [ ]

 

 

 

 

[Trokair]

Tyr-Ix-375

 

Spoiler

Willpower Test to see if acting normaly

WP:35

D100:21, Pass, count as in range of Cortex Controller, can act normally.

 

Full Action: Fire Protocols – FAB Mauler Bolt Cannon at Horde A, 2xSAB Bolters at Horde A

 

Mauler Bolt Cannon

BS: 45 +20(Full Aim) +20 (FAB) +20(Horde) =105

D100: 46, Hit, 5DoS = 5 additional hits, +1 for Explosive damage for 7 total

Damage:  2d10+8X Tearing at Pen:8

Hit 1: Rolls, 9,4,10 Take 9 + 10 + 8 = 27 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 7,3,1 Take 7 + 3 + 8 = 18 Damage

Hit 3: Rolls, 4,3,6 Take 4 + 6 + 8 = 18 Damage

Hit 4: Rolls, 5,8,9 Take 8 + 9 + 8 = 25 Damage

Hit 5: Rolls, 2,10,7 Take 10 + 7 + 8 = 25 Damage

Hit 6: Rolls, 6,9,5 Take 6 + 9 + 8 = 23 Damage

Hit 7: Rolls, 1,4,2 Take 4 +2 + 8 = 14 Damage

 

Ammo used: 6, Clip Remaining : 54

 

Bolter 1-Left arm

BS: 45 +10 (SAB) +20(Horde) =75

D100: 10, Hit, 6 DoS, 1 extra hit per 2DoS to max 3 = 3 +1 for Explosive damage for 4 total

Damage 1d10+9 X Tearing at Pen:4

Hit 1: Rolls, 1,1 Take 1 + 9 = 10 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 5,10 Take 10 +9  = 19 Damage

Hit 3: Rolls, 5,8 Take 8 + 9 = 17 Damage

Hit 4: Rolls, 5,2 Take 5 + 9 = 14 Damage

 

Ammo used: 3, Clip Remaining : 25

 

Bolter 2-Right arm

BS: 45 +10 (SAB) +20(Horde) =75

D100: 62, Hit, 1 DoS, +1 hit for Explosive damage for 2 total

 

Damage 1d10+9 X Tearing at Pen:4

Hit 1: Rolls, 4,5 Take 5 + 9 = 14 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 9,1 Take 9 +9  = 18 Damage

 

Ammo used: 3, Clip Remaining : 25

 

 

The Second Kind Uncle was now in Tyr-Ix-375 shadow, a range of binary flowed forth. It could guess that these were further attempts at establishing communications. This was good. However the inload load of this was great, interfering.

 

+++Not now.+++ It canted back.

 

The firing solution was just cogitator cycles away from completion.  There. A hail of fire rained into the designated group. As the smoke and rubble cleared the targeting protocols scanned, questing to see if the target was eliminated and a new one could be acquired.

 

As the combat cogitation requirement dipped for moment Tyr-Ix-375 turned slightly towards the Second Kind Uncle.

 

+++Designation SKU1: Welcome, This unit designation Tyr-Ix-375.+++

[Mazer Rackham]

Horde A:

Torn into pieces by the ferocious fusillade from the Mechanicus-wrought Chapter inductee, the mob falters, thrown into disarray by the absolute thunderstorm of death unleashed upon them.

 

Turn 3:

Initiative Order:

 

Spoiler

Ashmon = 14

World Eaters = 11

Torken Ekara = 9 

Sharrak Skorn = 9

Hordes = 8

Tyr-Ix-375 = 7

 

Ashmon [ ]

[Machine God]

Ashmon

 

The World Eaters, pah the whipped dogs of the Warmaster! The wretched War Hounds bounded down the slope towards him, down the sight of his Force Sword eager to face their doom.

 

Traitors to the Emperor and all his works, breakers of oaths! Codicier Ashmon drew upon his hatred for them and their weak ways. He drew deep from the warp to aid his psychic powers, As he a Storm Walker channelled the additional power a haunting breeze built up, it whipped him around him for a few seconds and blew the black sand off down the trench-line in mini dust devils.

The power rushed out and assailed the centre of the War Hounds in a storm of hatred, scouring them with the black Istvaan sands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Half Action: Push Power Level +3 PR. Focus Power - Betrayal of Flesh. WIL 51 +0 (Betrayal of Flesh)+20 (Full Aim) -20 (Hard Difficulty) -20 (Running Targets) = 31. Result: 29,Pass. Psychic Phenomena: Perils of the Warp not rolled, Rite of Sanctioning: Haunting Breeze. 

Betrayal of Flesh: 1d10 Energy Damage x PR with a Penetration equal to PR and Felling (1) to the target as well as any creature with 1 metre x PR

Ashmon has a 4 PR.

 

Damage: 2 +4 +5 +8 +9 +10 (RF:03, Success) 5 +10 (RF: 25) 2 = 55 Damage, Pen 7, Felling (1) to centre target and any creature with 7m of him

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited January 22 by Machine God
Clean up

[Mazer Rackham]

World Eaters:

As the might of the empyrean spills from the command of Ashmon's powerful being, several of the enemy Astartes are destroyed in the vlast of power, with a mere three dodging or too far away for the effects to take hold.

 

They continue to approach, undaunted. (They keep running).

 

The revelation that Ashmon is a Psyker is a boon at this troubled time, certainly, but at what cost? Defying the Edict of Nikaea is betrayal of what the Emperor decreed. How does this colour your view even as you fight beside him?

 

 

Torken Ekara

Sharrak Skorn

[Necronaut]

Toren

 

The Mor Deythan sergeant’s eye twitched at the sudden outburst of roiling, invisible warp energies, feeling his teeth buzz and the hairs on his arms stand on end. Though not possessing the psyker’s witch-sight or other extra-sensory perception, the bile swam in his gullet and he had to steady himself as the librarian unleashed an aetheric gale upon the advancing World Eaters. Such a brazen disregard for the Emperor’s Edict made his stomach churn. It was not the fact that the Iron Hand was a psyker so much as it was the alacrity with which all standards had been abandoned in the face of the Warmaster's treachery, a perhaps hypocritical sentiment to be held by one trained in covert operations,  guerilla warfare and all manner of dishonourable tactics such as himself. At least he would die a Loyalist, and not with his reputation tainted. 

 

+Watch your firing vectors, Codicier,+ he snarled over the newly established vox channel. He choked down any remaining vitriol, setting his sights upon the lead remaining berserker and squeezed Whisper’s trigger again. 

 

 

Half Action: Aim

Half Action: Standard Attack (Stalker Boltgun)
BS49 + 10 (Half Aim) - 20 (Running) + 10 (Short Range) + 10 (Accurate) + 10 (Bolter Mastery, solo mode) = 69
D100: 27 success; 4 DoS
Hit location: Right Leg (72)

Stalker Pattern Boltgun: 1d10+9X, Pen 4, Accurate, Tearing
3 7 (1d10; tearing) + 9 + 7 (2, 5; Accurate) + 2 (Bolter Mastery) = 25 damage, Pen 4

 

22/24 rounds left in Stalker Boltgun magazine

 

Edited January 24 by Necronaut
Fixed the damage and accuracy modifiers (assuming I had to switch targets)

[Mazer Rackham]

World Eaters:

 

Having already thrown themselves hither and thither to avoid the witch-cast, the Raven's shot find the mark, crunching into the target's right leg, and toppling him over. Even from here, his incoherent exhortations continue to roll down the slope, and are eclipsed by a bigger, sternum shuddering noise as a war engine bellows a vulgar challenge. Long and wailing, it matches the cry from the throats of the wounded manicas now battered by your weapons.

 

Moving steadily, its lupine cant and gait quickly reveals a canine head and hulking Mars-pattern Warhound carapace over the horizon. When the light from flares and weapon fire strike the armoured glacis, you can see is is sporting the colours of the Twelfth, alongside the iconography for Legio Audax, listed in your battle roster as Ally, even now in this terrible, disorientating chaos. Even now, in the grim reality where you have seen them kill your brethren. One arm carries a powerful vulcan megabolter, the barrels already spinning up, menacing the landscape, whilst the other carries a fearsome looking harpoon the size of Spartan tank.

 

The shape fully resolves at the crest of the hill, before being joined by another of the hunting pack, this brutal, hunched beast carrying a plasma blastgun.

 

Even with these gods of war in play, the infantry battle continues....

 

Sharrak [ ]

Edited January 23 by Mazer Rackham

[Xin Ceithan]

Sharrak

 

++ Not Now ++

 

The  Iron Hand felt a smirk forming over his face. The Castellax pattern had a reputation for being unruly, stubborn even, which was why some among the Legio Cybernetica advocated the use of more docile patterns like the Castellan. Sharrak suspected these preferences were more based on the Magi involved being too much used to getting their way… 

 

As he continued the ritual, he seemingly felt the  etherical discharge  close by even before his other sensorial feed picked it up. His visual feed still full of unruly pixelated after images as he searched for the source, Sharrak was surprised as his targeting reticules settled on a figure in the tarnished, but still familiar silver  and black of the Iron Tenth. Squad and Clan Identification runes scrolled beneath the orange targeting fix.

He found his surprise lessening. Leave it to the brutes of the Vurgaan to cast off even the edicts of the Emperor Himself at a moment’s notice if it meant being able to put a further notch on the belts. Or had they concealed the use of proscribed etheric warfare among the well stocked arsenal of their Destroyers all along? 
 

Sharrak entertained the notion of putting a bolt round through that warp touched brain then and there, just to be sure. Having a rogue psyker around may be even more dangerous than having a rogue automata close by…

 

A blurr o scrapped  code banners and war horns announced they now had the attention of enemy engines as well. 
 

The Techmarine  grimaced and gripped the Martian blade with both hands, refocusing on the ritual.

 

Just as in blessed binary, he would have to focus on every bit of the solution to this mess  at a time..

 

 

 

Spoiler

Will briefly consider shooting the revealed Witch - just to be on the safe side - 

but with the World Eaters still inbound and faced with the prospect of having actual Titans involved , will cover the Castellax - either by Bolger or prepare for melee / engage in melee if close enough  - unless a further tech use if possible / necessary to  get the Automata fully combat ready.

He will also suggest if there’s a way to funnel the traitors to interfere / lured in position to be caught up among the advancing Titans) 

 

Edited January 29 by Xin Ceithan
Placeholder filled

[Mazer Rackham]

Any of those actions is fine bar the funnelling - these are blood frothing maniacs, and cannot be Pinned.

 

Hordes:

Ignorant of Sharrak's plans, ire and suspicions, the frail mortals let rip.

Spoiler

Horde A is effectively destroyed.

Horde B: Opens Fire at the Redoubt (Salamanders)

SAB: Lasguns.

Attack: 2 HITS.

1. 15 (Negated)
2. 11 (Negated)

Attack: 2 MISS.

SAB: Plasma Gun:

Attack: MISS

FAB: Heavy Bolter. 3 HIT (Allocate 1 Target)

1. 22
2. 21
3. 17

One Salamander Killed

 

 

Horde C: Opens Fire at the Redoubt (Salamanders)

SAB: Lasguns.

Attack: MISS.

SAB: Plasma Gun:

Attack: MISS

FAB: Heavy Bolter. 1 HIT (Allocate 1 Target)

1. 13 (Negated, Cover, Arm, TB)

 

The gunfire is a ferocious fusillade, striking a Salamander as moves from cover to cover. It breaks him open, smashing his robust ceramite armour and potent physiology into ruin.

 

Tyr-Ix-375 [ ]

Edited January 23 by Mazer Rackham

[Trokair]

Tyr-Ix-375

 

Spoiler

EPT - Willpower Test

WP:35

D100:57, Fail, must follow Programmed Behaviour

WE 50m away

Onslaught: Must charge if enemy within 30m – no

Methodical: Must move towards closest enemy, cannot run – Half Action, Move 5m towards WE

Target Priority: Must fire all at closest enemy within 30 –none, otherwise can select target freely – pick Horde B

Fire Protocols: Half Action version due to above, shoot all three weapons at Horde B, no bonuses to hit from rate of fire

FAB Mauler Bolt Cannon at Horde B, 2xSAB Bolters at Horde B

 

Mauler Bolt Cannon

BS: 45 +20(Horde) =65

D100: 92, Miss

Ammo used: 6, Clip Remaining : 48

 

Bolter 1-Left arm

BS: 45 +20(Horde) =65

D100: 85, Miss

Ammo used: 3, Clip Remaining : 22

 

Bolter 2-Right arm

BS: 45 +20(Horde) =65

D100: 02, Hit, 6 DoS, +1 Hit per 2Dos to max 3 +1 hit for Explosive damage for 4 total

Damage 1d10+9 X Tearing at Pen: 4

Hit 1: Rolls, 2,2 Take 2 + 9 = 11 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 7,9 Take 9 + 9 = 18 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 4,1 Take 4 + 9 = 13 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 6,2 Take 6 + 9 = 15 Damage

 

Ammo used: 3, Clip Remaining : 22

 

 

 

The protocol script found a commonality, the network opened up and Tyr-Ix-375 was now connected the armour spirits of the Uncles around him once more. The closest few, those it had previously designated manually as friends for the Friend or Foe routines, were now upgraded to squad. It would go with them, fight with them.

 

One of them unleashed an uncategorised specialist weapon, not something in its database. Several Foes felled in one swoop. The weapon left lingering distortions for far longer than expected in the sensor script, self diagnostic loops found no fault. It designated that one as SWU1 (specialist weapon user).

 

Another squad member, designated SU1 (Squad Uncle) by Tyr-IX-375 felled a Foe with a precise shot, far more ammunition efficient then the battle script would have dealt with it.

 

While it had taken in the new squad the core routines had driven it forward to engage the enemy, while the targeting routine had efficiently flicked over to the next Foe horde after the destruction of the first. To late it saw that the core script had not accounted for the damaged left knee servos, and consequently most of the shots went wide, as it brought itself forward, ahead of the squad so as to protect them from the charging Foes.  

Edited January 24 by Trokair

[Mazer Rackham]

The hard bang and chunter of the bolters affixed to Tyr-lx are the only angry hornets it unleashes across the battlefield which strike true. Even though this payload is not as devastating as the first, lethal volley from the Automata, it is still sufficient to blow open the weak flesh of the deluded Imperial Army troops loyal to the traitorous Warmaster.

 

The battle-machine is engrams and cicuits, but there is still the warpaint of the XVIII Legion, and a comrade fallen is handily avenged in bloodprice, if not true worth.

 

Turn 4:

Initiative Order:

Spoiler

Ashmon = 14

World Eaters = 11

Aggressor Warhound Class Battle Titan of Legio Audax: 10

Torken Ekara = 9 

Sharrak Skorn = 9

Hordes = 8

Tyr-Ix-375 = 7

Skullbreaker, Warhound Class Battle Titan of Legio Audax: 7 (Player takes Priority).

 

Note: The Audax Engines are easily 500m away.

 

Ashmon [ ]

[Machine God]

Ashmon:

 

His assault had cleansed four of the World Eaters from the fray, leaving a pair on the sinister edge and a lone maniac on the dexter periphery. A fine shot.

 

The Raven Guard sniper had crippled the lone World Eater. Taken him down into the dirt, but not a clean kill as he still wailed his head off, denied combat. Loud enough to...

 

 

Attract attention, or call it in?

 

 

A pair of Warhound Scout Titans had just stepped over the hill.

 

They would take melee combat to another plateau of fun.

 

The Ungarvarr had shook hands with the blessed Castellax that had made good work of the traitor guard.

 

 

Deal with the chain-axe wielders and the guard, hope the Warhounds sight other prey. He'd have to deal with his new found allies later, just to get a bird off-planet.

 

 

He drew deep once again from the warp to aid his psychic powers, girded by his personal storm pattern. He assailed the brace of World Eaters in a storm of hatred, knocking them down with the black sands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Half Action: Push Power Level +3 PR. Focus Power - Betrayal of Flesh. WIL 51 +0 (Betrayal of Flesh) -20 (Hard Difficulty) -20 (Running Targets) = 11. Result: 08, Pass. Psychic Phenomena: Perils of the Warp not rolled, Rite of Sanctioning: Haunting Breeze.  (08 = 80: Right Leg)

Betrayal of Flesh: 1d10 Energy Damage x PR with a Penetration equal to PR and Felling (1) to the target as well as any creature with 1 metre x PR

Ashmon has a 4 PR.

 

Damage: 2 +5 +5 +6 +9 +9 +10 (RF: 36, Fail) = 46 Damage, Pen 7, Felling (1) to right target and any creature with 7m of him

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited January 24 by Machine God
Typo

[Mazer Rackham]

World Eaters:

The last Marines are ripped apart by the explosion of more aetheric violence. They are finished.

 

Agressor:

The psychic flares issued by Ashmon are nothing to ignore, nor is the pocket of resistance. The traitor=aligned god-engine turns its head this way and that, studying, searching. It begins to move at walking speed towards the redoubt, bright flashes from the arm-mounted vulcan mega-bolter.

 

The shells take a moment to arrive, but when they do - it's carnage.

Move and Fire:

Spoiler

VMB: Special - designate 20 x 20m area for saturation fire. All Targets within 'beaten zone' BS Test to Hit.

Human Auxliaries: HIT (Mag Dam Wipes them).

Sergeant V'Reth: HIT (Dodge: PASS)

Salamander Marine: HIT (Dodge FAIL) Dam: 30 Pen 7 (Killed)

Salamander Marine (Spec Weap): (Dodge FAIL) Dam: 26 Pen 7 (Killed)

 

Sufficient distance allows Players some reaction time. They may declare to fall prone as a Free Action before I roll to Hit them. If they do so, they inflict -10 BS to Hit and reduce target profile, adding +10 to Dodge Tests. This is only effective against Area Saturation Fire. If the PC is already Prone, (or cannot do so, but can still move), they may choose to 'Evade' thus providing the bonus. This happens out of turn.

 

You can just post a bit of fluff along with a note to declare.

Edited January 25 by Mazer Rackham

[Trokair]

Tyr-Ix-375

 

One moment the battle script was churning away at the problem of the next Foe grouping in its tactical feed, the next all powers of the cogitators was usurped by the triumvirate action of threat analysis, tactical priority and lastly self-preservation.

 

The God-Engine level Foe had turned its attention this way.   

 

+++Cover!+++   it blurted into the squad coms.

[Necronaut]

Toren

 

With a cruel and private smile only for himself, he watched with satisfaction as his shot exploded through over an inch of steel and ceramite and severed the berserker's right femoral artery, dropping the man in a violent heap where he had been charging across the open battlefield. The blood-crazed killer somehow crawled on, even as he bled out and his transhuman physiology attempted to clot the gushing wound, bellowing his rage at an uncaring universe. Meanwhile the Iron Hand witch scythed down the remainder of the World Eater's cohort with his invisible, Warp-spawned thresher. 

 

It was then that Toren felt more than heard the arrival of the god-engines, their leader blaring an infernal and spiteful dirge at the knot of loyalist resistance before vomiting forth a deluge of oversized bolt rounds. His many decades of combat experience, and extensive mental conditioning and muscle memory, served him well, realizing moments later that he had hurled himself to the ground, now lying prone behind a short wall of sandbags and plascrete before his gene-enhanced mind had even fully registered and analyzed the tremendous threat. Enormous calibre bolt rounds detonated all around him, raining debris and shrapnel down onto his armour with a strange tinkling sound that somehow cut through the deafening roar of the gunfire and explosions. 

 

Two more Salamanders perished mere meters away from him under the withering hail of ordinance, torn to shreds and scattered across the dark sands. The legacy of Vulkan lived on now only with Sergeant V’Reth from amongst their number, a grim tally added to a record of wanton, debauched slaughter. And the accursed black soil of Isstvan V continued to slake its unholy, unending thirst. 

 

 

Free Action: Go Prone

 

Reaction: Dodge Ag54 + 10 (go prone) = 64 (posted in anticipation of the attack roll)

D100: 29; pass with 3 DoS

 

Edited January 26 by Necronaut

[Machine God]

Ashmon:

 

The brace of World Eaters and their wounded brother were destroyed by his power, yet the multipliers were still present in the equation.

 

He saw as he acted instinctively, falling prone into the muddy puddles of the trench floor.

 

 

The traitor=aligned god-engine turned its head their way and began to move at walking towards the redoubt. Bright green flashes from the arm-mounted Vulcan mega-bolter burnt the air as the shells moved towards, through and past the position.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited January 29 by Machine God
Muddy camo

[Mazer Rackham]

Attack Rolls:

[Resolved offscreen. No Hits]

 

The heavy bolts slam and crater around you, the warning of the Battle Automata and your own genhanced reactions buying precious moments of life to turn into defiance. Allies around you fall, paying the price for your survival.

 

The redoubt is chewed to pieces by the barrage of fire, hurling great scads of black sand into the air, a dark swarm turning the immediate zone into a grey miasma, even as the battered ground shifts under the weight, toppling the walls of the trenches and splitting boulders and improvised barricades in scything chips and molten lumps. The very ground rumbles with the torture of impacts, a protest at a mire pinprick in comparison to the wholesale extinction being meted out across the surface.

 

Ashmon:

Spoiler

++Brother, I felt your traverse of the Warp. I have permission to speak to you via the Aether.++

 

An image enters your mind. He is not an Iron Hand, but black feathers and sharp eyes. The sound of birds cawing to each other haunts his presence.

 

++Primarch Vulkan, the Eternal Flame, orders you to take what survivors you can, and punch North. The traitors have set up a comms disrupter. You are the closest unit. Switch Nuncio Vox to channel Beta-Omicron Six-Alpha, and wait for reinforcements.++

 

His voice fades.

 

The turn now resumes.

 

Torken [ ]

Sharrak [ ]

 

Edited January 26 by Mazer Rackham

[Necronaut]

Toren

 

+Fall back, V’Reth,+ Toren’s voice crackled over the vox through the din of bolter fire, +Fall back, damn you! The redoubt is lost! And bring that launcher!+ He grimaced at the loss of the other XVIIIth Legion brothers, their lives snuffed out in an instant by the traitor titan, blasted to meaty chunks and bloody viscera before his eyes. What a waste. 

 

To the others, the Mor Deythan sniper called, +Heads down, Iron Tenth! Let them think that finished us off. I will not die in this pit!+

 

Using the miasmatic dust cloud as cover, Toren got to his feet and started moving towards the Salamander sergeant in a low crouch, hoping their new ally still drew breath. 

 

 

Half Action: Concealment Ag54 + 20 = 74

D100: 21; success with 5 DoS

Half Action: Stand

 

Edited January 29 by Necronaut

[Xin Ceithan]

Sharrak

 

Explosions ripped through the redoubt, shredding  what had remained  of barricades, equipment and most of the remaining Salamanders. Over the vox, someone yelled for them to take cover. 

Warning runes shot through his vision. The noospheric bulk of the approaching Engines rolled over him, an avalanche of malign binharic code. Like their Astartesian brothers, the Wolves of Legio Audax were out for blood… 

 

Sharrak went to the ground almost by instinct alone. Though his Legion might  have been known sas “Stormwalkers”  in the early days of the great crusade, no descendant of Medusa would be so reckless as to walk into anything like this. Their best bet was to ride it out, loose the hunting beasts in the deluge.

 

Once more, he felt the pressure of hostile an Auspex Array reaching out for them..

The God Engines were on the hunt. But they were intended  to seek out and face down bigger, stronger  prey. Even with their blood up,  they might just overlook something amidst the whirling dust and debris…

 

The Iron Hand crouched, retreating into his own binharic mantle.

 

Nothing to see here…

 

It was a foolish idea to face down the gods directly. But maybe they could be persuaded to look for prey elsewhere… 

 

The Techmarine tensed and reached out to the Battle Automata via tight beam. He just hoped the noble XVIII were not above a bit of deception.

 

+++ Inquiry regarding condition of Defection Avoidance and Counter-Detection protocols. Prepare to engage obfuscation rituals on my mark… +++

 

Spoiler

GM : 

Half Action - Concealment

Beginning sustained Action / Tech Use ( ECM Protocols “

 

Please make any rolls as required 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

ECM Tests:

I will hold this off until the end of the Round to allow Trokair/Tyr to either make a Tech Use Test (Half) or declare he is Assisting (Free). We will consider the reason for this delay a 'handshake' protocol, and initiation of the jamming signal. The efficacy will then be calculated at the end of the Round with any benefits/penalties.

 

Hordes:

Even though savaged and pelted with the remains of the earth and body parts of the fallen, blinded by the hanging pall of ash and smoke, the mortals continue to give fire.
 

Spoiler

Horde B: Opens Fire at the Redoubt (Salamanders)

SAB: Lasguns. ALL MISS

 

SAB: Plasma Gun:

Attack: 1 HIT on 001 (amazingly)

• 30 Pen 12 (Maximal)

V'reth, is wounded, but at Toren's insistence looks up in time to see the hole cleaved in the murk by a silver-blue star-streak.

Dodge: FAIL

V'reth's head explodes into molten slurry, the golden slough of armour tainted by superheated meat and bone. He dies.

 

FAB: Heavy Bolter. ALL MISS.

 

Horde C: Opens Fire at the Redoubt (Suppressing Fire)

SAB: Lasguns.

Attack: NO HIT

SAB: Plasma Gun:

Attack: NO HIT

FAB: Heavy Bolter.

Attack: NO HIT

 

Suppressive Fire ineffective.

 

Tyr-Ix-375 [ ] 

[Trokair]

Tyr-Ix-375

 

Spoiler

EPT - Willpower Test

WP:35

D100:52, Fail, I don’t think I have any Fate to try that again, so sorry, unable to assist

Must follow Programmed Behaviour

Closes Target: Horde B/C

Onslaught: Must charge if enemy within 30m – no

Methodical: Must move towards closest enemy, cannot run – Half Action, Move 5m towards Horde

Target Priority: Must fire all at closest enemy within 30 –none, otherwise can select target freely – pick Horde C

Fire Protocols: Half Action version due to above, shoot all three weapons at Horde B, no bonuses to hit from rate of fire

FAB Mauler Bolt Cannon at Horde B, 2xSAB Bolters at Horde B

 

Mauler Bolt Cannon

BS: 45  +20(Horde) =65

D100: 57, Hit, 0 DoS,  +1 for Explosive damage for 2 Hits

Damage:  2d10+8X Tearing at Pen:8

Hit 1: Rolls, 2,7,1 Take 2 + 7 + 10 + 8 = 27 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 2,9,5 Take 9 + 5 + 8 = 22 Damage

Ammo used: 6, Remaining : 42

 

Bolter 1-Left arm

BS: 45 +20(Horde) =65

D100: 94, Miss

Ammo used: 3, Remaining : 19

 

Bolter 2-Right arm

BS: 45 +20(Horde) =65

D100: 19, Hit, 4 DoS, +1 Hit per 2Dos to max 3 +1 hit for Explosive damage for 4 total

Damage 1d10+9 X Tearing at Pen:4

Hit 1: Rolls, 8,9 Take 9 + 9 = 18 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 10,6 Take 10 +9  = 19 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 2,3 Take 3 +9  = 12 Damage

Hit 2: Rolls, 8,8 Take 8 +9  = 17 Damage

Ammo used: 3, Remaining : 19

 

 

 

+++ Inquiry regarding condition of Defection Avoidance and Counter-Detection protocols. Prepare to engage obfuscation rituals on my mark… +++

 

SKU1 had sent, it searched its tactics files for the relevant protocols and came up empty, though two had close match in protocol nomenclature. Tyr-Ix-375 knew that some of its siblings would have given up then and queried, but it knew that there was no time, SKU1 was counting on it, and from the situation and the emissions from SKU1’s armours spirit Tyr-Ix-375 got the gist and begun to compile a new protocol script to add to the battle cogitator for when SKU1 signalled ‘mark’.

 

Alas to late it realised that the core battle script had not been halted by the death of the closets set of Foes following another attack by SWU1, but had instead continued to engage the more distant horde of Militia Foes.    

[Mazer Rackham]

Jamming Signal:

 

D100: 31 PASS.

ECM Engaged.

 

Any trace vox signals seem to blur and stutter as the Cog-sworn work together as man and machine to lay a web of obfuscation as thick as the still-clinging debris and mist.

 

Skullbreaker:

Augur Detection:

[Rolled Offscreen]

 

You can feel the feet of the war-engine, albeit 500 metres hence, the ground shifts as it plods onwards, the frequency of step mixed and marred by it's lupine twin. Both Warhounds stalking out there, in the fog of war beyond you. You may make Hard (-20) Perception Tests to indicate direction. Calls come in over the death-haunted, dislocated shroud. It is the rally call of the enemy forces going unanswered, the traitor army rendered into slow, whimpering mewls as they perish from the wounds inflicted.

 

The immediate battlefield is eerie, despite the horrific sounds far beyond this kill zone. The silence is pregnant, heavy with the promise of violence.

 

+ Turn Sequence Paused +

 

This is a moment in the eye of the storm (to your POV). You may take this opportunity to make or continue Tests, engage is brief dialogue, etc. Nothing that may constitute 'an action' for now. For the moment, you have a pause for breath.

[Machine God]

Ashmon:

 

There was no sign that the other Warhound had fired its big gun. It must be waiting for something, confused by the emp / ecm pulse that had knocked out comms and dampened the tactical HUD. The pair would be searching the area, maybe they were attacking the traitor auxiliary in the confusion.

 

He surmised that it must have been some tech utilised by the Mars-sworn and the Battle Automata. The Raven Guard sniper had voxxed for the the Iron Hands to keep down and still, whilst he scurried away to check on the Salamander K'Reth.

 

He crawled through the remnants of the muddy trench system towards the Ungarvarr's position.