Purge the Dinosaur (IC)

[Dekana]

The Stormraven gunship you are in shudders violently as it descends through the atmosphere. Perhaps the turbulence would worry a common man, but you are more than common - you are a member of the Deathwatch, one of the Emperor's own space marines. You have done battle on countless worlds, and you have been through orbital drops that make this one seem like a pleasure cruise.

Your captain briefed you shortly before you departed the Cruiser in orbit. Your kill team is descending to Hive World Beseritor to cleanse Hamon Park of xenos. The park foolishly displays monstrous creatures from other worlds "safely" to a rich clientele. Those creatures have escaped and most likely murdered everyone in the park, which has since been sealed off. Faint tyranid life signs have been detected from inside the park, and so your kill team is tasked with destroying them before they can escape into the rest of the hive.

The comm line to the Cruiser is still open, should you wish to ask for more intel on the park or if you have any other questions. Otherwise, you have a few minutes before your arrival at the hive.

[Emperor Ing]

Erzstaz invisibly smiles behind his helmet. Or at least the closest equivalent to a smile after his lower jaw was surgically removed during his Techmarine training. The turbulence of the Stormraven's descent...was thrilling! The Benedictor many times had to suppress the urge to exclaim his enjoyment of the drop, though this was done mostly by thought-toggling his helmet's comms and voxes to off. It's unfitting with the mood, after all.

It doesn't help that the Watch Captain is an imbecile. Seriously, these kinds of questions should be asked and answered before dropping down into alien-infested territory! Maybe the Captain was just feeling impish. Either way, there were still many things to be known.

Requesting Local Cartograph and Park Exhibit Information. The Techmarine says over the vox channel. He didn't expect a serious response, probably something along the lines of 'the cogitor with that information is guarded by a horde of Carnifexes. Good luck.'

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael was unphased by the rocking of the ship. He'd had worse insertions into more hostile territory. The briefing was odd, but the Watch Captain probably had his reasons. Azrael thought that maybe the situation on the ground was more dire than they had been led to believe, and a speedy insertion was necessary.
Tyranids, he thought to himself, its always bloody tyranids. The Thunderhawk shook again, and Azrael could swear that the Techmarine looked happy. Good for him. At least somebody was taking enjoyment from this ride.

Apothecary Azrael, he said, turning on the comm inside his helmet. Should we expect any friendlies inside the area of operations? Guardsman, Civilians, Park Personal? Does hive security know about this problem? Or are we expected to maintain containment during the mission?

Civilians could be a problem, they always gummed up the mission. I guess a map of the park could be useful as well, he keyed his mic again almost as an afterthought.

[Andrew88]

"How large of a Tyranid presence can we expect?" Brother Wulfred inspects his gear as the ship descends, unfazed by the bucking movements.

[Dekana]

Requesting Local Cartograph and Park Exhibit Information. The Techmarine says over the vox channel. He didn't expect a serious response, probably something along the lines of 'the cogitor with that information is guarded by a horde of Carnifexes. Good luck.'

The vox channel buzzes with static for a few seconds. The watch-captain's voice then comes through: "Planetary authorities shall provide detailed information on the park's structure."


Apothecary Azrael, he said, turning on the comm inside his helmet. Should we expect any friendlies inside the area of operations? Guardsman, Civilians, Park Personal? Does hive security know about this problem? Or are we expected to maintain containment during the mission?

Civilians could be a problem, they always gummed up the mission. I guess a map of the park could be useful as well, he keyed his mic again almost as an afterthought.

"PD forces have already attempted to secure the facility. The expeditions sent in failed to return. It is possible that individual guardsmen may have survived, but losses are expected to be total. In either case, their rescue is not a mission priority. Civilians and park security are likewise expendable."

"Containment of the tyranids is mission critical. Take any measures necessary to prevent their escape. Failure will result in orbital cleansing of the hive. Escape of xenos other than the tyranids may be treated less harshly, depending on what threat the particular species poses."


"How large of a Tyranid presence can we expect?" Brother Wulfred inspects his gear as the ship descends, unfazed by the bucking movements.

"Although scans reveal at least some tyranid presence inside the park, the magnitude is too low to indicate a general infestation."

[Andrew88]

Thank you Lord. I does not seem like it will be too difficult to mop up a few Tyranids. Unless they have infected the local population of other Xenos...

[Dekana]

The turbulence ends suddenly, and the craft's internal comms system crackles to life with the pilots voice. "We are approaching the landing pad. ETA 1 minute.

OOC: Any more questions before we land?

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael ran through his mental checklist Chainsword, Narthecium, Toxin Synthesizer, Medicine, all there. He smiled, and though he wore his helmet the expression was obvious in his voice as he looked across to Wulfred, Let us bring the Emperor's light back to this forsaken place Brother. I look forward to fighting by your side.

OOC: No further questions.

[Andrew88]

"I only hope that the PDF stays out of the way. Their idea of help is more trouble than it is worth. But yes, it will be good to kill some tyranids." Wulfred gives a nod to the Apothecary, before returning his attention to his weapons

[Revanus]

Fully armed and armored, Lokir is a sight.

His silver beard is thick and twisted into a single, central braid, while his shaggy white hair is left unkempt and wild-- though not to the point where it would interfere with getting a hard seal on his power armor. His Heresy-era helmet is clipped to his armor, a red snout having been crudely painted onto the vox-grill. On his left knee, his Long Fang unit's symbol is clear--a black background framing the face of a white wolf, blood at its snout. The armor is ancient and well-worn--runic carvings along the breastplate speak of it being handed down since the Scouring of Prospero to those wolves who prowl the nights alone.

The missile launcher rests comfortably on Lokir's back, alongside the neatly parallel dispensers of spare krak and frag rounds.

The chainsword clings to Lokir's left leg, magnetized and free to leap up at a moment's notice. The chainsword's blade carapace proudly screams "Fangmaw" in red-painted lettering. On the right is Lokir's requisitioned bolter, ready to sing its funeral song.

Around Lokir's neck, intertwined with a pendant of the Wolf of the Red Moon, a leather sling can be traced to Lokir's bolt pistol, firmly secured to the right rib-plate of his power armor.

Finally, a shimmering camo-cloak is clasped at the neck, distorting Lokir's movements and lines. The camo-cloak tends to shield both pauldrons from casual view. However, beneath the cloak, Lokir's Deathwatch pauldron bears the image of the image of the Bloodied Hunter--the bare silver of the plate set off in relief against a red background of the applied ritual paint that sketches a bloody-mawed wolf's head. The skull-framed =I= of the Inquisition is swallowed by Lokir's artistic efforts, while the opposite pauldron bears the Great Company seal of Logan Grimnar--the image of "the Wolf that Stalks the Stars."


Lokir glances at his companions before directing his attention to the vox speaker.

"I have no questions that can be answered by any but the Allfather. None of us know the time or nature of their death--one can only pray it is worthy of a saga."

Patting the Stormraven's hull jovially, Lokir sings in his seat--filling the hull with the music of his fathers.

From ice-bound Asaheim, high in the clouds,
They come on wings of flame.
Raven and crow dine well in their wake. Wyrm fears their howl.

[Dekana]

The watch captain's voice comes through the comms system one final time. "Very well. Death be thy compass. Cruiser Basart out."

The windshield of the Stormraven is mostly obscured by the pilot's power armor, but tremendously tall skyscrapers come into view against the background of a hazy, brown skyline. The buildings, though a testament to the supreme power of the Imperium and the hard labor done in His service, are stained black and brown from a toxic atmosphere and acid rain.

After barely 30 seconds, the craft descends into some kind of cavern illuminated by artificial lighting. One minute to the second after the pilot's last report, the Stormraven touches down. Without a moment's pause, the loading bay ramp opens and slams down onto the floor of the cavern with a loud metallic clang.

[Emperor Ing]

Aww. Ride's over. The Techmarine pouts. Nevertheless he disengages the restraints on the thunderhawk and makes his way down the ramp, bolter in hand.

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael stood and followed the Techmarine down the ramp. Never one to miss an opportunity, he turned and said to Lokir Keep up that singing, brother. If the tyranids don't run at the sight of us, they will certainly flee the sound of your voice. He laughed, than stepped out of the Thunderhawk into the hanger.

[Andrew88]

Listening to the banter of the other Marines, Wulfred shakes his head and releases his restraints. Walking down the ramp with his chainswords in either hand he stretches out his arms and shoulders, feeling the wiehgt of the jump pack. At the bottom of the ramp he inspects his surroundings, imagining what hordes lay within the hive tower

[Emperor Ing]

I think we want the exact opposite to happen Azrael. Erzstas rebukes. If they aren't running at us, then they aren't dying! And there's the whole "must not escape the facility into the hive populace else the infestation will grow and fester into a contamination that may or may not warrant escalation or even exterminatus" but that's not important.

Say Lokir, do you know any tunes from the Age of Terra?

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael laughed again. A turn of phrase only, brother. I would be quite disappointed if the xeno scum chose to flee rather than fight. If anything, our brother's singing will serve only to draw the creatures to us, where we can meet them with bolter and chainsword and purge them in the emperor's name! Azrael nodded to Erzstas, waiting for the Techmarine to take the lead.

[Emperor Ing]

Do you hear that Lokir? You're out of practice! Even the foul xenos want you to stop! He teases the Space Wolf

Anyways... He straightens up, taking a far more serious tone. Friends, Brothers, Warriors of the Emperor. Today, the tyranids rear their ugly face at the Emperor of Mankind. Today, The fact that it still has a face is an affront to everything our fathers, the Primarchs, and the Emperor fought for! This is unacceptable! The techmarine's voice rises to fever pitch, he speaks with fiery passion uncharacteristic of space marines in general, let alone Techmarines.

Today, the Emperor has decreed that everything dies! Nothing leaves this facility not so ordained in His light! Erzstas raises his bolter. Remember you the tools of war! The fiery diction of the Bolter, chanting down the blasphemy of our enemies' continued existence. The Chainsword, the hate of the Omnissiah made manifest, the gnashing of teeth that cleaves flesh from bone as it will cleave tyranid from life. The Auspex, revere its wisdom and holy vision. Trust your wargear, respect the machine spirits and the machine spirits shall respect you. So says Erzstas Marloch, Brother-Techmarine of the Stellar Benediction.

Afterwards, he relaxes, going back to his rather jovial self as he takes several glances around the hangar, looking for points of interest.

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael knelt when the Techmarine began speaking, his Narthecium held out like an offering. There was a time for jokes, but when a Techmarine gave his benediction, you heeded his words. They would certainly appease the machine spirits inside his armor and medical tools, and a happy machine spirit could save the life of one of his Battle Brothers. As Erzstas finished, Azrael stood, with a quiet so let it be inside his helmet, so quiet that the vox module did not amplify it to the others.

[Andrew88]

"What is your plan Tech Marine? Shall we move inside and get underway?" Wulfred says impatiently as he scans the area for an entrance.

[Emperor Ing]

Here's the plan: We take the torpedo and we hold the world ransom for...one million credits. Our primary objective is containment. We'll need to find every entrance, ventilation shaft, wiring duct, anything that could be used as an exit for the smallest tyranid, and seal them off. Any faces we eat along the way are just a bonus. We will need to find the administrative offices or anywhere where there might be holy cogitor banks that might contain this information first and foremost. After we trap the aliens in with us, we'll hunt 'em down to a hormagaunt.

Survivors, Emperor willing, are a tertiary objective.

[Andrew88]

"Excellent. Lets get going."

[Dekana]

The kill-team exits the Stormraven into a cavernous flight hangar. The hangar is filled mostly with military aircraft bearing the mark of the local planetary defense forces, along with a few civilian or industrial vehicles. The roof of the hangar is retractable and is currently open to the hazy brown sky. Several servitors are scattered about the hangar performing their maintenance duties without paying any attention to the Emperor's angels of death. A pair of soldiers with lascarbines stand at attention at the sides of a double door about 100 meters away.

After the last marine is off the transport, the pilot reports in through your suit's internal comms system. "I shall take up station above the hive and await your call for extraction. May your enemies know fear this day!" A few moments later, the Stormraven lifts off and sails straight up out of the hangar. The roof shuts close shortly after, leaving the marines in the artificial light of the hive.

Three obvious exits to the hangar are in sight (four if you count the sealed roof). The double doors guarded by the pair of soldiers; a closed bay door 20 meters from them, large enough to wheel an aircraft through; and a smaller door on the opposite end of the hangar. The smaller door is beside a glass wall, on the other side of which is an office space of some sort.

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael weighed the options The Office may provide us with information on who has recently come to this hive, and may lend some clues as to the source of this infestation. On the other hand, delay is unadvisable, as every moment we spend here gives the Tyranids more chances to fester in this world, and perhaps even warp the 'exhibits' against us. The choice is yours, brothers. You have my thoughts.

[Andrew88]

"I would agree that the office space will have the cogitators we need access to."

[Emperor Ing]

Not necessarily, Erzstas mentally disagrees. Wulfred, we need to have a performance review. Come with me to my office. The rest of you, see what you can find from those classy gentlemen over there. He looks to the guards flanking the door. We'll be back shortly. He makes off for the office.

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael nodded, and turned towards the guardsman. He covered the distance quickly, assuming that Lokir would follow and, Emperor willing, keep the singing to a minimum. Azrael did not remove his helmet as he reached the guardsman. Sometimes, the awe that a Deathwatch Marine inspired was just as useful as any chainsword. Guardsman he said sharply, commanding attention and respect, for what purpose were you sent here? Surely the Planetary Governor does not believe that the Emperor's Angels need protection from the inhabitants of this hive.

[Dekana]

Wulfred and Erzstas split off to investigate the office while Azrael and Lokir approach the soldiers.

As the pair of you near the office, you spot two figures through the glass wall. One is a female soldier, her flak armor bearing the mark of the planetary defense forces. She is wearing a fairly bulky radio headset and carrying a sidearm at her waist (a laspistol by the look of it). Her rank insignia is equivalent to that of a trooper in the Imperial Guard. The second figure is a servitor, standing before a cogitator with his back to the glass wall.

In the center of the office is a large table stacked with papers a books. If there is any sort of filing system, it is difficult to ascertain. Pressed against the walls of the office are various machinery, including cogitators, radio equipment, and a recaff machine.

The woman snaps to attention and salutes when you two enter the room.

"My lords! I-I am honored to receive you!" She stutters a little, an undercurrent of fear in her voice.

Both soldiers salute crisply as Azrael and Lokir approach. They are wearing flak armor that bears the mark of the planetary defense forces. Their rank insignia designates them as equivalent to troopers of the Imperial Guard. The soldiers openly carry their lascarbines, the barrels pointed up toward the roof.

The soldier to the left of the door answers the assault marine. "Private Jacobson. Begging your pardon, space marine, but our orders're to guard the equipment. Never know when some scum will try to make off with SP rounds or fuel to sell for a few credits. We just received word that you'd be coming a few minutes ago, and I'm to lead the way to the General, should you desire it."

Though Private Jacobson maintains his composure, the other soldier appears almost dazed as he watches space marines, a mix of fear and awe plastered on his face.

[Emperor Ing]

Yes, i'm fine, Private. Thank you for asking. How is your day going? The Techmarine cooly replies. He considers taking a seat to diffuse the tension but the probabilities of them being able to support his weight ran through his mind. The values returned range from "zero" to "lose some weight, fatty." Whether or not the machine-implants in his mind actually returned the latter value is a mystery that will likely die with Erzstas.

Listen, we need to make sure no bugs get out when me and my brothers go stomping. Is the facility under lockdown, and if so, does this guarantee every access point small enough for a mouse to fit through is sealed?

[Andrew88]

Wulfred and Erzstas split off to investigate the office while Azrael and Lokir approach the soldiers.

As the pair of you near the office, you spot two figures through the glass wall. One is a female soldier, her flak armor bearing the mark of the planetary defense forces. She is wearing a fairly bulky radio headset and carrying a sidearm at her waist (a laspistol by the look of it). Her rank insignia is equivalent to that of a trooper in the Imperial Guard. The second figure is a servitor, standing before a cogitator with his back to the glass wall.

In the center of the office is a large table stacked with papers a books. If there is any sort of filing system, it is difficult to ascertain. Pressed against the walls of the office are various machinery, including cogitators, radio equipment, and a recaff machine.

The woman snaps to attention and salutes when you two enter the room.

"My lords! I-I am honored to receive you!" She stutters a little, an undercurrent of fear in her voice.


"Do you have maps or data records of the layout of the hive for my casual friend here...The faster this plague is contained the less likely we are to have to kill you all."

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael turned to the speaker. You honor the Emperor with your dedication, Private, and your task is a commendable one. However, the threat we come to combat is one far more dire than theft. We should not depart without my companions, he turned to indicate Wulfred and Erzstas across the hanger, so you shall provide me with information. Knowledge is power. So what, Son of Jacob, do you know about why we are here? About what is really going on? Azrael's tone in asking was friendly, but there was a steel under the surface, as if to imply that being less than useful would be unwise.

[Revanus]

Lokir ignores his battle-brothers ribbing. Drawing his bolter as he exits the vehicle, he makes his way over to the guards alongside Azrael.

Listening to the Private's response, he shoots a quick sub-vocal vox-com message to Ersztas and Wulfred.

<Troopers want to take us to meet their general. Rejoin once your investigation is finished so that we may be on our way.>

Lokir nods to Azrael. They are of like mind.

"Aye, you may lead us all to your general, though not until all four of us have returned. In the meantime, why not also tell us a bit of your general and this station?"

Helmetless, Lokir sniffs the air and keenly peers about his surroundings. He also eyes the troopers' equipment loadouts.

"Have you a map of this installation?

Awareness:
[roll0] vs. 60

Wolf senses reroll: [roll1] vs. 60

[Dekana]

Yes, i'm fine, Private. Thank you for asking. How is your day going? The Techmarine cooly replies. He considers taking a seat to diffuse the tension but the probabilities of them being able to support his weight ran through his mind. The values returned range from "zero" to "lose some weight, fatty." Whether or not the machine-implants in his mind actually returned the latter value is a mystery that will likely die with Erzstas.

Listen, we need to make sure no bugs get out when me and my brothers go stomping. Is the facility under lockdown, and if so, does this guarantee every access point small enough for a mouse to fit through is sealed?

The woman drops her salute and replies. "Wouldn't figure you exterminators. Not unless the bugs are bigger than a man's fist, and I haven't seen any of those around. We're not under heightened security in the hangar, at least."

The servitor, its back to everyone else, speaks up in a droning monotone. "Flight Controller Daniels, log entry for stop-and-go of Adeptus Astartes flight is DW00429 complete." Daniels doesn't say anything to acknowledge the report.


"Do you have maps or data records of the layout of the hive for my casual friend here...The faster this plague is contained the less likely we are to have to kill you all."

"Kill us?!" Daniels is obviously taken aback. After a moment, she hurriedly answers, "I've a map of the hangar and the surrounding ward. I'll show you it right away."

Daniels walks to one side of the table and shoves a few stacks of papers aside. Attached to the top of the table itself is the hangar map. You are currently in the top level of the hive. A moment's glance will show that the hangar is surrounded by storage and maintenance areas. The area is serviced by a rail system that leads off the map; the boarding area is past the double doors on the other side of the hangar. The zoo is not anywhere on the map.


Private Jacobson shares a nervous look with his comrade and then answers Azrael. "I haven't been told why the Adeptus Astartes would be called in... wouldn't want to guess..."

OOC: You could try to pry for more with an Interaction type skill check.

"We serve in the 102nd Infantry regiment under General Ingen, chief of military security for this hive and the surrounding wastes. He answers to General Banning, who is the head of the military directly under the Governor."

"This is the Spillway Hangar, the topmost in the hive, though the civilian spaceport gets most of the traffic. A lot of the waste air patrols are stationed here."

"I haven't got a map, but I'm sure you'll find one at command, space marine. We'll need to use the rail system to get there... well, to get anywhere from here, really."

The stench of aviation fuel permeates the air, along with the more subtle odors of three soldiers (one in the distance) and the various servitors in the hangar. You don't detect any xenos (yet).

[Emperor Ing]

Invisibly behind his helmet, Erzstas' eyes roll. They're nowhere near where they have to be! That will be all. He says, turning to leave for his Brothers. Stay classy, Private.

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael removed his helmet and smiled at the man. Surely the men talk, he said jovially. we all serve the Emperor, Jacobson, and anything you have heard might help myself and my team complete our mission.


[roll0] vs 22 + Skill Test Modifier (45/2 for untrained basic)

heres hoping that its "Easy"

[Dekana]

"Wouldn't want my scuttlebutt to get you marines killed," Jacobson replies.

Erzstas and Wulfred return from the office. The four marines now stand before the double doors.

OOC: The check was easy, but not "Easy." Ready to move on?

[Revanus]

ooc: Yep!

Also I suppose this is a teeny response for such a large spoiler message. Oh well. :)

[Dekana]

Private Jacobson opens the double doors and leads the marines into the corridor behind it, leaving the other unnamed NPC to guard the door. Little attention has been paid to the decor here; the walls are featureless dark metal with lights placed at regular intervals. Someone not familiar with the area's layout could get lost quite easily.

Not far into the hallway, the group turns into a side passage that opens up into a large tramway platform. The tunnel is not at all illuminated, making the platform an isolated beacon in the darkness. A single passenger car, suspended from an overhead rail line, is waiting. When everyone is inside, Jacobson operates a control panel at the front of the car and soothes its machine spirit into compliance with his commands.

The passenger car slowly accelerates to a modest maximum speed, and even at that pace, the transit is quickly over. The car arrives at another platform seemingly identical to the one you left, save for its exit being guarded by yet another pair of soldiers with las carbines. As Jacobson leads you past those guards, one of them cranes his head to look up to Wulfred, the space marine in his battle kit absolutely towering over the lowly grunt.

Two security checkpoints follow, each guarded by gun servitors and numerous PD forces. Jacobson gets you through without any excitement. Past the security, you finally step into a wide room with tall ceilings, vid screens and electronic maps with annotations hanging from the walls. The room is populated with about a dozen lightly armed soldiers monitoring cogitators and the maps. Muted conversation permeates the room (all of it related to hive security reports if you care to listen).

One officer, a graying but well-built man in full dress uniform, approaches the marines. Your guide salutes at once. "Private Jacobson reports as ordered, with the space marines, sir."

"Clearly," the officer replies sarcastically. His voice is pitched artificially low and carries a mechanical tone to it. "Return to your duties, private." Jacobson salutes again and makes himself scarce. "Space marines, well met. I am General Ingen, chief of security for this city. I have been directed by the governor to liaison with your team and provide intel about your target.

[Andrew88]

"Are you running containment on the hive holding the xenos? How secure is it?"

[Revanus]

Lokir nods, blue-grey eyes shining as he takes in the General.

"Aye, give us a tactical rundown on the situation. And as my battle-brother noted, this station needs to be on full lockdown as soon as possible. 'Tis Springtime, and the lava wants to flow."

[Dekana]

"About two weeks ago, the menagerie 'Hamon Park' broadcast an automated alarm and initiated lockdown procedures. There were no signals from park staff to indicate anything unusual happening. As a response, and to secure the park if needed, I sent in 4th Company. They proceeded through the main tourist entrance, re-securing the lock behind them. Haven't heard a word from since they went in. Three days ago, 7th Company went in to assist - they at least reported finding bodies before falling under attack and going silent."

The General brings up blueprints of the complex on one of the displays. The park is arranged like a spoked wheel, with a circular central chamber and several isolated compartments surrounding it. The blueprints also show a series of service tunnels and small rooms in a sub-level. There are two entrances into the park; the main tourist gateway in the southern hub, and an entry in the sublevel tunnels.

"The park's command center is here," says General Ingen as he points to a small room in the northern hub. "From there, you can override all emergency security measures, including door locks. You would also be able to activate the park's nerve-toxin security protocol from there."

Sorry, I'm trying not to drag this on too long. I want to throw some monsters at you all!

Go ahead and decide on which entrance the team would like to go through and I'll fast-travel you there.

[Andrew88]

We should secure the sub levels first. Dig out any xenos presence there and work our way up. We should make the command post and its nerve toxin protocol our fall back point if we cannot eliminate the threat ourselves or if we are in danger of being overwhelmed.

[Toxic Mind]

I agree with Brother Wulfred. Something failed in the containment procedures, and I would not rely on the technology that was designed to kill these xenos to be reliable. It should only be used as a last resort, if we are unable to purge these foul creatures ourselves. Azrael's tone made it clear how unlikely he thought this possibility was.

[Emperor Ing]

Eh, the place probably reeks anyways. Wouldn't hurt to get a little air freshener going through the vents. Hey you know what? We can set up camp around the command center! You know, establish communications, pitch tents, campfire, roast some marshmallows, sing hymns, we'll have a grand old time! We can get a splint going and have a good ol' fashioned roast! A tyranid roast! Thought maybe they don't need to hear about the "tyranid" thing. Yet.

[Revanus]

Lokir smiles a hungry grin.

"Just point me in the direction of the feast and blood."

[Dekana]

OOC: To the tunnels it is then!


The numbers indicate points at which you can cross from the tunnels to the park's main level and vice versa. The security room is in section 2 on the main level. You are currently at the tunnel system's Entry.

Important: The map shows the major walls, but it does not show interior rooms. So, for example, you might arrive at an area depicted as blank space on the map and find it sectioned off into tiny rooms.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v467/Dagginz/HamonPark.png

The general arranges a two-man detail to guide you to the park's service tunnel entrance. The trip takes about 20 minutes, most of it spent on the train system. You finally arrive in front of a heavy-duty metal door surrounded by flashing red lights. Beside the door is a control console; from it, Erzstas is able to get the door open without much effort.

It is possible to get the door to seal shut automatically after a duration of time, which you can specify. Would you like to do so before the team goes inside?

A tunnel extends for quite a distance in front of you, wide enough for vehicles to drive through. You don't see any casualties, although a flatbed truck is overturned and on fire just in front of the second turn (at the entrance to room 1 on the map).

[Revanus]

Lokir glances around carefully, sniffing the air and taking in the sights.
Perception check: [roll0] vs. 60
Wolf Senses re-roll: [roll1] vs. 60

He levels his missile launcher towards the burning truck.
Actions: Brace+aim

"Looks like we're not the only ones here. Let's see if anything wants to come out and play."

With that, Lokir looses a deafening howl, filling the cavernous room with his aural fury.

[Andrew88]

What do you see Space Wolf?!? Not one to be beaten to the foe, Wulfred draws his two chainswords and ignites his jump pack, ready to charge at the foe as they appear

OOC: draw weapons, enter squad mode in preparation of using Wrathful Descent

[Emperor Ing]

Erzstas finds that to his delight the door can be convinced to seal shut automatically from this console. As such he decides that 20 seconds should be more than enough time for the team to get inside. Activating the timer, the techmarine resumes pace and enters the rather large and wide cooridor. Y'know... Erzstas muses as he brings his bolter out to bear, trained in front of him yet ready to bring out his chainsword at a moment's notice. Wouldn't a cooridor that's large and wide, by definition, not be a cooridor?

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael walked through the doors, forgoing his chainsword in favor of a bolter. He scanned the area for threats, and noted the burning truck. someone arrived before us. he said, matter of factly.

[Emperor Ing]

Yeah. 4th Company and 7th Company. Erzstas remembers. We should keep an eye out of survivors, though it's a tertiary objective.

[Dekana]

The metal door closes shut behind everyone (except for the two escorts who wisely stayed outside).


"Looks like we're not the only ones here. Let's see if anything wants to come out and play."

With that, Lokir looses a deafening howl, filling the cavernous room with his aural fury.Lokir's howl echoes loudly down the corridor for several seconds. It is then answered with a beastial ROAR (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIjNln61s4U&t=0m52s) that echoes toward the marines from far away.

Lokir hears, very faintly, movement from somewhere down the corridor, probably near the burning truck. Because of the distance involved, he can't be sure whether man or beast made the sound. No targets immediately present themselves for his missile launcher.

[Emperor Ing]

Erzstas thinks of a witty remark, but then realizes that saying it would just be plain mean. There's no need. Sorry I got nothing. He simply says, training his bolter down the pseudo-cooridor as he slowly advances.

[Dekana]

The squad moves up toward the burning truck. As they get close, they can make out blood splatters on the ground and walls, but still no human remains. As you the turn the corner, you see a warehouse-sized room with several elevator platforms that run up to the ceiling. Large wooden crates are scattered about, some splintered into pieces. In the center of the room is a pile of bodies, likely a missing guard company from their armor. The first marine who looks around the corner will also see a whole bunch of the following:

http://p1.la-img.com/930/16511/5467814_2_l.jpg

Your new friends, already alerted by Lokir's roar, spot you immediately. The howl loudly, the sound echoing past you.

Roll initiative.


There are 30 dinosaurs in the horde.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v467/Dagginz/Map1.png

[Emperor Ing]

"]Now we 'round the cornah, oh lookie there! Dat's a whole buncha Cultistosaurs! Now we hafta be cahful on ah approach, for th' slightest mov'ment'll send 'em into a rit'ral-sacrifice-for-da-Blud-God frenzy! The team has the (mis)fortune of Erzstas giving a running commentary on their activity in a rather absurd fake accent. Amn gonna fire a bolta round at 'em and see wat happens.


Init

[roll0]

[Andrew88]

initiative 1d10 +5

[Revanus]

Initiative:
[roll0]

Lokir grins, bearing his fangs in anticipation of the battle to come.

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael readies his bolter.


Initiative [roll0]+5 I think(?)

[Andrew88]

initative again [roll0] +5

[Toxic Mind]

Azrael sprays his bolter at the horde with a hearty cry of "For the Emperor!" and advances towards the horde, preparing for melee combat, which he much preferred.

[roll0] vs 30

[Andrew88]

Wulfred charges. Hurtling towards the Xenos on jets of flame. Landing in amongst them his arrival is like a comet striking the earth. A flurry of chainsword blows follow, striking all withing reach.

Roll for attacks. In squad mode so activating wrathful descent
[roll0] attack 1
[roll1] attack 2
[roll2] attack 3

if successful add 1d10 extra damage to horde magnitude
[roll3]

[Dekana]

Azrael opens up on the xeno horde, but his bolter rounds are aimed a little too far to the left and explode against the pile of guardsmen.

Perhaps most animals would run from the sound of weapons-fire, but not these xenos. Moving as one herd, they start sprinting toward the marines with all possible speed.

Azrael fires and misses, everyone else delays or readies their weapons. The dinos run 24m directly toward the marines and are now 95m away.

All of the players are up!

[Emperor Ing]

Rather than provide any commentary, Erzstas lines up and fires a round from his bolter at the "cultistosaurs"


Semi-Auto Burst (Base 40 + 30 Horde Size + 10 Semi Auto Burst) = 80

[roll0]

Shot 1
[roll1]
[roll2] (Tearing Reroll)

Shot 2
[roll3]
[roll4] (Tearing Reroll)

Shot 3
[roll5]
[roll6] (Tearing Reroll)


edit: 2 hits (WHY did I roll for damage?)

[Dekana]

Two of the xenos practically explode under Erstas's bolter shells, adding to the one xeno killed by his first attack. From nearly 100 meters away, two of the beasts open their toothy maws and spit a high-velocity liquid toward the marines. The attacks miss completely, but they are enough to signal that the dinos have some ranged attack capability and are now within (extreme) range of you. After the initial trading of fire, the swarm continues barreling down on the marines.

The swarm continues running toward you all. They're now 71m away.

27 of 30 xenos still alive.

[Andrew88]

Practically itching to get to grips with the Xenos, Wulfred stays in place waiting for them to come into range of his jet pack.

OOC: Delay

[Emperor Ing]

Spitters! They've got spitters! Erzstas cries out with alarm, before deflating. We're Space Marines. We're wearing Power Armor. Remind me why I should feel threatened? He barks off several more shots with his bolter. Three more dinos explode in a flurry of gore as the shots strike true.


Semi Auto Bolter target 60

[roll0]

edit: 3 hits!

[Toxic Mind]

Azreal tightens his grip on his chainsword and runs a quick diagnostic on his Narthecium. All systems appear to be working fine, and as of yet- BY THE EMPEROR! he thinks as he sees the acid splash in front. It hisses menacingly. Azrael readies himself. It is his duty to see to the safety of his brothers, by healing them, or cutting down their foes. He grins inside his helmet and waits for the xenos to close.


Gonna be running after Wulfred once he jumps. Until then - Delay.

[Dekana]

Erzstas's sustained fire drops a few more of the approaching dinosaurs. The horde charges closer toward the marines, but the dinos begin slowing down.

OOC: Awareness tests for everyone please.

Reading over the horde rules, explosive weapons basically cause twice as much damage as other types of weapons. Bolters shells are explosive, so Erztas has actually done quite a lot more damage than I thought.

On the other hand, the rate of fire for bolters is S/2/4, so Erztas can only get 2 hits max with his semi-auto burst. 2x2 = 4 hits this round plus the 3x2=6 previous hits, equals 10 dead dinos with 20 left.

Edit: Actually it is S/3/-, per the errata. 18 dinos left.

The dinos run another 24m and are now 47m away.

[Andrew88]

[roll0] vs Perception 35

[Emperor Ing]

[roll0] target 60
So beautiful, so graceful... Is he talking about the cultistosaurs or his bolter?


Semi Auto Burst again target 70 (they're in close range)
[roll1]

[Toxic Mind]

[roll0] vs 45 Perception
OOC: Well balls.

Azrael breathes in and out slowly, and raises his chainsword. His brothers have been doing the Emperor's share of the work before now, but his time is coming.

[Dekana]

Erztas's bolter fire thins out the horde pretty well, leaving the remains of 6 more exploded dinos splattered on the ground.

The dinos finish their charge 47m away from the marines. They may not have a leader to give them commands, but in spite of that they all open their tooth maws and spit globs of gooey black liquid in one volley, all aiming for Erztas.

In between the roaring gunfire, Wulfred and Erztas hear even more xenos approaching from the north, from the corridor you came through. It sounds like there are quite a lot of them - even more than the ones spitting at you.

Horde rules so I don't forget: they get one attack per 10 magnitude (currently 18), they can't aim, and their attacks cannot be dodged (per errata). Damage is increased by 1d10 per 10 magnitude, max of +2d10.

The dinos target Erztas since he's the one who's been killing them off.

BS [roll0] vs 23 (33 BS - 10 range; wow, they kind of suck)
Damage [roll1] Rending, Pen 3

The other dinos will arrive next turn.

[Emperor Ing]

Erzstas glances over past the spit that sails wide past him, hearing clearly the dinos coming from behind. Hey Brothers. I think we have some uninvited guests to the party. He gestures behind them to where he heard the approaching horde. Also, you have guns. Use them. Please? For me? He points his bolter once again at the dino horde, squeezing another burst out and exploding several more cultistosaurs.


Semi-Auto Target 90 (ha! Not running anymore!)
[roll0]

2 hits, 4 horde damage

[Dekana]

OOC: Anyone besides Emperor Ing want to act this turn? Even if you don't want to or can't shoot, I thought people would want to react to the soon-to-arrive dinos.

[Andrew88]

Wulfred charges the horde coming towards them (Horde 1). If he can tie them up and occupy them then his brothers will be able to face the new group.

Cutting his the thrusters at the top of his jump he plummets towards the ground like a commet. At the last moment he ignites his thrusters for extra area damage and lands amongst the xenos. Erupting from the crater like a whirlwind of teeth he attacks the nearest targets.

OOC: Charge + Wrathful Descent. [roll0] vs 55 +10 for charge + 20 for horde Mag?
added damage to horde mag from Wrathful Descent if successful hit [roll1]