Of Legions and Liberty IC

[Malthan]

OOC (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?420205-Of-Legions-and-Liberty-OOC)

Hell burns around you.

http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2011/104/d/e/eye_of_terror_by_darkrai696-d3dyd46.jpg

It does not consume you, as it did the others. They were faithful to the end, screaming their adoration for the gods, even as they flickered away into nothingness. How quickly they stormed the sea of souls, charging like masochists through a field of straight razors. When they reached the other side, there was nothing left of them but ashes and blood.

But for you, the warp has never felt so soothing. Delicate flames lick at your heels, the unnatural inferno shaded crimson like arterial blood, cauterising your aches and burning you pains. A million screams wane through the air in a melodic harmony, a chorus that puts angels to shame. And you have met your fair share of angels.

The Black Legion was bold to rely on mad psykers for transportation. For hours you waited, huddled in separate squads with a single mission. Storm Paradise. Then the warp rifts opened and the gods plucked at your strings.

They denied you the right to die with dignity. While your fellow heretics streamed past you, rampaging through the inferno without a moment’s delay, you six alone were detained.

How curious it is, to be a plaything of the gods.

You know that you have a mission. Not some mere mortal objective but something that transcends both time and reality itself. If you should prove yourselves worthy of it.

At last, destiny comes hurtling towards you. From beyond the veil, the Carrion World Licentia, born of shadow and flame, bursts into your line of sight.

It feels so distant, though you could swear you had only intended to travel from the traitor’s trenches into the Imperial headquarters. It was a simple plan. Bypass the bitter warfare of the third tier and materialize in their command centre. An ambitious plan, reliant on the god’s good graces and the skill of an elite vanguard. You were to be their relief force, a second wave coming after they breached through enemy lines.

The planet looks different somehow. Perhaps the only difference is that now you can see it for what it really is, unbound by sanity and reason. It is a place of horror. Continents of corpses and midnight ice lie stagnant, with glass crusted waves falling crashing against hard, unforgiving shores.

There is a deep seated darkness at the heart of this world. Legends and myths have seeped from one wound to another, black secrets leaking into the eye of terror. It lies in the vault. Your fate awaits waits at the core of all things.

You see this darkness bubble and boil, bursting from the planet like volcanic ash. It writhes and warps into something else, a shade with eyes deeper than the void itself. Cruel and angular, smoke streams off its features until you can make out a colossal skull, grinning its skeleton smile with lies etched over its ivory surface. The leviathan of bone and hate rushes towards you, its gaping jaw spewing smoke and lies that cover your armour with soot till it is as black as –

The vision ends and you stumble through back into reality.

http://i.gyazo.com/8ed8b0db0b781bada483a95c4baa1dbf.png

Your arrival is accompanied by a burst of smoke and sulphur, the fetid stench of death registering amongst the fumes. You’ve materialised into the scene of a massacre. Bodies are strewn across the floor, bloody and raw, heretic and loyalist, all of them coated in gore. Some of the corpses you recognise as comrades or subordinates, their dead eyes full of fury and fear, staring up at the cold rockrete ceiling.

Turning your attention to the location itself, you realise with a growing anger that this was not the intended rendezvous spot. It is a cell, the bars torn open and the power fields as dead as those who once inhabited it. For you spot amongst the dead a collection of convicts, presumably caught in the crossfire between guardsmen and cultists.

Alone amongst the ruins stands a single man, clutching what appears to be a deceased comrade. He is unkempt, scorched by war and sorcery both. Mutant patches scar his skin, with blue blotches ruining his complexion and red mucus lining his eyes. He stares at you with his mouth agape, a serpentine tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth.

“You’ve come... I had lost faith that I … it couldn’t possibly be…"

His eyes bulge and flicker in mad glee. There is something distinctly repulsive about this creature, even before he starts screaming inanely.

“I have done it! I told you Archimedes, I said it was so and it is … I am the chosen one, the prophet of the gods, the conduit of their will! Blessed am I, for I alone am skilled enough to call these brave heroes through the warp! Oh I told you…”

His voice turns from manic to depressive in a heartbeat, as he starts to shake the body he’s holding with disturbing vigour.

“I told you…”

[ArcturusV]

Cramped quarters, rotting cells, the stench of death and battle far from this place, a faint echo rather than a resounding cry of the present. I found my blade in my ceramite covered hand, my bolt pistol at the ready. There was magic here, deep magic, that was clear. Sacrifice and death, it didn't take the gibbering of the frail looking mutant to know that. The will of fickle Gods, laughing the warp, or the machinations of a mortal sorcerer, who momentarily diverted the attention of others, I could not say.

Slowly I raised my bolt pistol to the mutant, my armor masking my visage from him. No blind rage and bloodlust, just cold, calculating, and knowing that the Insane prosper in Chaos, and that even a seemingly broken shell of a man, was not to be taken lightly.

Battle-scarred armor, symbols of the Imperium obliterated by the presence of Chaos Standard Issue spikes, and the 7 pointed star of the Flesh Death on his pauldron was all that identified me to the strange mutant. Well that and the miserable pile of dreck who came out of the warp behind me, doubled over and vomiting in the cell, disgracing himself and the gene-seed he carried. If not for the vague promises of the Apothecaries I would have shot him myself. And many, many times, such as this, I was tempted.

"You have waylaid my mission," I said through the armor's face vox, the voice smooth as velvet in a low, bass octave. "This is something I cannot tolerate." I was dimly aware of Arkhan finally finished with his vomiting, a disgusting pile of half digested meat that likely one did not want to question the source of, bile and a bit of blood. His weakness and the failure of the procedures was always appalling.

"You have 15 seconds to earn my forgiveness," I uttered with that same, smooth tone. A lie to be certain, such a wretch was likely unworthy of a bolt shell, or to stain my blade with his blood. Let the rabid cultists slake themselves of every sorcerer who's paths they crossed. He was a pitiful creature, beneath contempt, not a worthy sacrifice to Chaos, nor a great victory to aspire to. Yet it always seemed to serve well, to feed on the kill crazed visage of the Fallen, let their own fear and expectations drive them to prove themselves valuable to him. A simple bluff accomplished more with these creatures than great offerings or appeasements.

Yeah I'm not actually planning on killing him. Just trying to sell the lie so that he feels he has to quickly prove himself worth not killing.

Deceive: [roll0] vs 49 Fellowship, +0 Training in Deceive, baseline mark of 49 before conditional modifiers.

[Cognomeng]

Ved looks at his Servo-Skull and orders in a surprisingly unagumentedl voice. "Scan the bodies for weapons and valuables." He steps around and over the corpses and makes his way to the babbling man, "Look at me, what is your name and affiliation."


Servo-Skull casts AWARENESS!(if needed to loot corpses) [roll0] TN 23 If it comes to rolling, someone else should probably do it...

Ved casts the Diagnose subuse of Medicae! Attempting to determine if the crazy fellow is injured, and if his craziness is something that can be easily dealt with. [roll1] TN 55+UnINT2 if applicable

[Jyssika]

Tech, as is his name to all non Iron Warriors, steps forward.
If not for his lower throat having been replaced with augmetics
he would probably also have thrown up, the pallid flesh of his
second right hand twitched and once again slapped his
chest... for a moment he was back in the warp dreams with
fire and specters ripping his wargear to shreds.

9 Seconds.
His speech was harsh, a metalic vox box rebroadcasted
though the secondary vox of his Power Armour.

It always serves to show a united front speaking with outsiders; as
young as his small squad was it followed reason to stay on the
most logical path at all times

[Malthan]

The mutant psyker ceases his babbling as soon as he is addressed, staring slowly at the pointed bolt pistol. In a single exaggerated movement, he collapses to his knees, simultaneously allowing the body he was holding onto to fall unceremoniously to the ground.

"My lords, you do not say the right things! You say the thing that is wrong, how can it be, how can the hero say what is incorrect..."

He mutters and shakes his head violently as if deeply confused rather than offended.

"It is inconceivable, incorrectness, no I must make him say the thing that is true."

As Ved begins to speak, the mutant jumps in fear and recoils. He stares up at the mechanical figure, mewling like a babe before recognition plays across his face.

"You look like him! The master, he is trapped! I will show you, yes, I will show you the way to the others, the masters..."

Crawling on his stump like knees, the creature ends at your feet.

"I, my lords, I am Gareth. I came here with the red soldiers, the dark lady and the man of metal. We were to be the envoys of your most holy deliverance. They shepherded me here, guarded me during the battle. We had surprises yes, but they had so many body to eat up our surprises. So we use gas, fumes and toxins, breach their centre of commanding. Some of them hide from us but others come with shackles and chains and screaming, oh my lords. I try to call on you then, to bring you here into the battle but then..."

He chokes up and sobs weakly,

"She ... she did this. The liar of light came and she spoke and our soldiers started to panic and run. The shackle men, they screamed her name till they were torches of flame and folly! She took the tide of the darkness and she twisted it until it blinded me! Then I could not see as I ran, so I went with the others, not knowing where I was going. But then my eyes, they open and I see we are back in a cell, separate from my lady and her man."

He pauses as if he struggles to recollect what you can only assume has transpired in the last few hours.

"We need more reinforcements. So I see there are many prisoners. Many bodies. Many to use to, many mouths to scream, to call you!"

Gasping for breath he continues madly,

"So I am calling on the gods with them, my friend Archimedes is helping them scream loud for you but they scream too loud..."

He shudders now, mutant limbs bristling as he does so.

"The chain men find us, they come and they kill, killing so many... until only we are left. But it is a sacrifice. It worked. You are here. You can finish the good work. Save dark lady, save metal man, secure victory for the dark gods..."

[roll0] vs 38 Perception, Awareness + 0

The servo-skull comes around, its data roll listing almost nothing of interest. Scraps of usable equipment, various intact organs but otherwise nothing of much importance. Except of course, for the fact that his friend Archimedes is still breathing. His life signs register weakly, emanating from the damaged body now lying face first on the gore splattered ground.

[ArcturusV]

If there was one thing about my alliance with the forces of the Black Legion I most despised, it was this. The doublespeak and riddles of witches and cultists, touched by the Dark Gods and driven mad. Oh I was sure that to this Gareth it all made as much sense as the rockrete beneath our feet of the beating of his heart, but it was all just so much madness.

I grasped that this, creature, was the witch breed slave of some warband. That made sense. And that they were attacked by a... something... and that he had conducted some fell ritual to call me here, diverted from my stated mission to arrive in this miserable, besotted cell.

I raised up my pistol, no longer pointing it down at Gareth, but with bended arm towards the ceiling at the ready.

The mission was a failure by warp transit, scrubbed before it even started. He looked over to Ved, "You may deal with the wretch," I stated coldly, leaving Gareth to the mercies of the Heretek. I intended only to let the Heretek who seemed concerned with the Witch to handle him as he pleased, though I always appreciated the fact that no one might know if I had meant to execute the witch, or merely interrogate him.

"If you are done embarrassing yourself Arkhan, do try to look like what you aspire to be. Rifle at the ready, bayonet secure, prepare for close quarter battle, though you should have been already," I reprimanded my serf, as he scrambled to get his weapon ready and his gear prepared for conflict. I waited until he stood at attention, stub rifle clutched in the guard position, sloppy, but the best the man could do.

"Good, we'll make a legionnaire out of you yet," I said in a smooth voice, dripping with approval that I had not the faintest actual feeling of. "Unknown enemy forces, unknown location. Clear and secure, execute," I told him, as we started to head out, my bulk leading the way on a short ranged reconnaissance of the cell block we were in, checking what avenues that an enemy might arrive from, and where they stood the best chance of both holding off invaders, or repelling them wholesale, all while Arkhan moved behind me, trying to imitate my movements to the best of his ability.

[Cognomeng]

"Servo-Skull detects no valuables. Disappointing. You, move away, your friend yet lives and I shall tend to him. Now calm down and repeat what you said using more descriptive words and names, and QUIETER. Marines, I would ask that you look to our perimeter, I know not where we are or where the nearest hostile is." Turning back to the Servo-Skull Ved gives it an order. "Auspex, scan for lifeforms, remain within 10 meters of nearest ally." Ved then kneels over Archimedes, attempting to ascertain his status and wounds.


Diagnose Medicae Test(on Archimedes?) [roll0] TN 55
Servo-Skull Auspex [roll1] TN 43

[Jyssika]

Tech listens to the ramblings, the second hand scratching
at the stock of his Legion Shotgun held loosely in the first.
An omen perhaps, what bestial hindbrain controlled it wished
the thing dead... what bestial hindbrain did control it?... Hmmm.

[roll0] Logic Untrained Int 46 -20 +20, +2 Successes if pass to try understand the mutant more clearly.

Whilst listening he walks across to a cell wall, particularly one with
an exterior wall along the outside of their current cell block.
First he wraps it with a single knuckle, then leans against it with
his full hand and finally swings the full might of his servo arm against it.

[roll1] 43 -20 for untrained +30? for massive? (53?)
[roll2] +14 Pen 10. (26 Pen 10)
[roll3] Right Fury

With the grace of an Assassin he coils the bulky arm and extends
it in a perfect strike against the wall, shocking even himself at how
fluid his strike had been.

[Revanus]

After being deposited by the Warp, Alpharius is content to allow others to elicit information from their summoner.

For his part, the Alpha Legionnaire quietly scans the jail for hints of danger or useful information, while also readying his Heavy Bolter. The camo cloak swirls around his form, breaking up his outline and lending him an artificial advantage.

Awareness:
[roll0] vs 51 (41 perception + 10 Heightened Senses (Sight))

[jolinaxas]

She swore she'd never be back here, but then again, Shandra had sworn to gods more immediately rewarding of her devotion that she would, and the still-stinging tips of her fingers and the back of her head reminded her of the gifts she'd been given by their servants.

Digging her fingers, and the nerve induction tines therein, deep into her palms, blood flowed while she gave herself a bit of a lovely jolt to recover from the terrible journey through the Warp. She was to follow the Astartes, for they didn't breathe their first in here, as she had. But she wasn't wearing the prison smock anymore. Now, she wore the flak of one of the Imperial Guard fools that had died for their false god - "His" symbols replaced with lewd acts and symbols of Slaanesh - the god she didn't know she was worshipping all along. The liberators had given her drug-filled haze and aimless worship a name. And they'd given it much more.

But where were they in this hellhole? She thought back to the times when the gang needed to break from their level. Down to the rich men, for drugs and a good time, or up to the violent and murderous ones, when violence and murder was needed?

"Where are we? What level and block, fool?"

Rolling up a sleeve, she revealed to the mutant the crude ink tattoo of the circle with a ray extending from it - just horns and a crossbar away from her true lord, and a symbol of her gang membership.


FL: Heresy to determine facts about the prison, TN 41 [roll0]
Security if there's a locked door between us and the objective. TN 41 [roll1]

[meltodowno]

Stryx coldly and dispassionately regarded the scene playing out before him as he observed the interplay of his new 'squad', such as it was. Here they had a willing servant, and each sought to inspire greater terror into him. Soon this creature would be truly useless to them.

He looked down at the remains of one of the fighters, little more than mulch after the fighting but still he had died fighting - a warriors death. Honorable. In his horned helmet his features raised into a terrifying smile.

Khorne will be pleased.

Still, Stryx remained silent as he stood guard over the area, ever ready for a fight as power arced along the blades of his claw.

[Malthan]

As Hector and his misshapen companion leave, Gareth stares slack-jawed mumbling to himself,

"No master, the shackle men, shackles and chains..."

The cells are littered with the dead, remnants of a battle you clearly missed. The hallways branch into various directions, but your senses pick up that this is the first floor of some great Asylum, located directly adjacent to your intended target of the enemy headquarters. You discover two spiral staircases, one to the east and west and in the centre you find a great elevation platform. Enemies would likely have travelled up the platform and stairs simultaneously, given the collection of corpses that you find stuffing them both.

The servo-skull sent alongside you analyses the stairs will be a tight fit for an astartes and you'll have to travel in single file lines to get through, while the elevation platform remains a potential hazard should the enemy recognize your advance and cut the cables.

"Lords and lady, you are here because I am your humble servant yes, most humble..."

He pants, desperate to make himself understood but clearly lacking the mental ability to talk plainly.

"This one and this one,"

He grabbed his chest and a dead a heretic, whose markings Stryx recognizes as Blood Pact warriors and whose markings Tech recognizes must signify the red soldiers the mad mutant was discussing earlier.

"We are chaos vanguard. Coming for Paradise, yes Paradise command, to overthrow the masters of light"

Both Tech and Shandra recognize this term, an informal designation given to the Third Tier, a warzone full of fanatics on both sides.

"We attack yes, breach enemy castle with bomb and cloud, burning and melting the many, they are die quick even though there are many yes!"

As far as Tech can gather, this relates to the planned operation to breach the enemy headquarters, a fortress like command centre which contained many of the generals of the Imperial forces in the Third Tier. The cloud was more vague however, but the use of magic and toxins had been rampant in this war so far.

"Inside enemy base, I call to the warp for you yes... all for you..."

It unanimously dawns on you that this mad thing was your intended summoner after all, though clearly he failed or was disrupted in his task to call you into the Enemy command. Your visions from the warp play across your mind, images of fellow warriors disappearing past while you alone were detained...

"But then the light bringer comes, shining like star, she pierce sky and divide the clouds, lightning of Terra burning us, turning portal into ray of heaven, blinding us all and screeching, the shackle men they are screeching still!"

This is an anathema to Tech's logic engines, with some clear reference to a woman and the warp. It is possible that this mutant is discussing something more reasonable such as promethium defences but the imagery remains hyperbolic and mythological nature, incomprehensible to your attempts to decipher it.

"So I cannot see as I run, yes yes, not seeing where I am believing I go... Archimedes rest his soul, he bring me here, to closest shelter mistress, not knowing this place is haunted by shackles and chains..."

Neither Shandra nor Tech can get an exact reading on what he means, but the gist of it appears to be him running from the battle and taking shelter in an asylum complex located adjacent to the enemy headquarters.

"Brave one, he tell me to make more warriors yes... I say we need blood and screams and he say make do with what have... so we make do..."

It registers now that many of the dead convicts appear to have been deliberately hacked to pieces as part of a profane ritual, in an effort to call you here.

"They called for you, we make them scream for you my masters, needing them to make noise for you! But then shackles and chains come for us too... everyone dying, everyone screaming... makes good noise... then I am only one left. Til now."

The room rumbles as Tech smashes into the wall, rockrete and alabaster being brutally broken. A fist shaped hole now exists from which you can peer out from.

You notice several lacerations, likely done by chain weapons but barely protected against by hardened flak armour. This man has clearly lost a lot of blood. Additional puncture wounds, most made by bullets, line the weak points where he lacked armour, such as joints and other soft spots. The only one that does not fit this category is a knife sized stab wound, located along his back, narrowly avoiding his spine. The man appears to have received many scars in the past, though he will have many more should you be able to save him.

The soldier garbles something as you inspect him, blood dribbling down his mouth.
"Stop... don't listen to 'im. Finish the job... the Techie's stuck behind enemy lines... you need to..."

[Revanus]

Alpharius regards Gareth coldly.

"Are there any further enemy here or nearby?"

Sparing a quick glance towards the Tech Marine busting down the wall with an infernal racket, Alpharius registers mild annoyance.

"Our arrival here is no longer a secret. The Son of Perturabo has seen to that. So be it. Gareth--Who is your master and where is he located?"

[Malthan]

"He says right things Archimedes, yes he says thing that he should."

The mutant's head bobs up and down in approval, rising from the gore slick floor. The creature shuffles slightly down in the direction of Hector and his minion, before stumbling over a dead body and collapsing in a heap of jumbled limbs.

“Mmm, yes yuck yuck. Master of metal is trapped with mistress in black, sealed themselves away in guard bunker, deep in enemy castle land. Ahaha gods must find mortal life much amusing, commanders now stuck in centre of commanding. But they not last long now, no no…”

[Jyssika]

Tech, turns his head a brief moment reminding himself
of those with him. A woman, a mortal tech and an Astartes.

Within this collosal prison, booming and shreiking with the
sounds of death the breaking of a single wall will go unnoticed!

Slowly and purposefully he begins trying to dismantle a larger
section of the wall with his servo arm, all the whilst examining
its construction and looking into the next room for any clues
as to specifically what part of the prison they might be in.

You have all gathered that we are in the correct location?
This is indeed where we were meant to be summoned.

[roll0] Awareness Per 45 +20, to: See into the next room.
[roll1] Logic Int 46 -20 +20, +2 Successes if pass to: gain anything useful from the composition of the wall.

Yep... here comes good old Faithful Tech and his HORRIBLE dice rolls!

Realizing that the Flesh Death Marine had not been presant for this
revolation he attempts to find him on some sort of Vox communication.
Can make a tech use test if required.

+The mutant was and is our correct summoner,
I have pieced together some of his ramblings.

Have you discovered anything?+

This act also causing further revolations he makes a mental note to attempt
locating, entering and silently listening to any Vox chatter that might be present
within the prison.

[Revanus]

So, the psyker's master is deep in enemy territory, holed up in a bunker. I doubt the wretch could lead us out of a paper bag, let alone to his master.

"I take it your master is far away, in enemy territory. Are there any friends nearby, at least?"

[jolinaxas]

Shandra nodded at the roundabout way the mad mutant had referred to their location.

"I'm somewhat familiar with the area - well, at least its denizens. The Imperial lapdogs are in for the fight of their lives. I'm going to go in a bit by myself - see if that little redecoration may have attracted anyone."

Going further into the compound, Shandra kept her eyes open for anything important about the immediate surroundings.


Awareness Check, TN 30: [roll0]
Stealth Check if necessary, TN 41: [roll1]

[Malthan]

"Friends of nurgle, friends of khorne, slick with filth and gore..."

Gareth chuckled, drool spilling down his contorted chin.

"I am only friend you need and you need me my lords yes, I show you the way, secret that it is, the way to Paradise castle... down and through the water trenches yes..."

The wall dismantling produces little of interest, as you find only more remains of past bloodshed amongst the rubble. The structure itself appears to be made of sturdy stuff, though it would naturally be reinforced by power shields in years gone past.

As it stands however, most of the cells are relatively empty despite this being clearly part of the main detainment areas. Normally, Imperial prisons would be packed to the point of overflowing with but the bodies that you find are scarce in comparison with the maximum living space, meaning that a significant number of prisoners must have escaped or have released.

[Cognomeng]

Looking at Archimedes and his attempts at conversation "Stop talking fool, I will attempt to staunch your wounds. Whether you survive beyond that is outside my current resources." As he busies himself with this minor task Ved continues talking. "You, Niet my Servo-Skull has located two sets of stairs and a Lift mechanism. The stairs seem too small for you and the other Astartes to pass through. If you could stop scraping at the walls and investigate the Lift mechanism for traps and controls, we could move towards our objectives quicker. You, babling psyker, what powers do you possess, and are you combat capable?"

Alright, I'm not sure if Archimedes counts as critically wounded or not, -10 to the test if he is. Or if he counts as lightly damaged or Heavily/Critically. If lightly, successful medicae heals 7 wounds, if not, just 1 wound.
[roll0] TN55

[Jyssika]

Tech turns, and blurts out a burst of binary.

~~You!? You, will adress me as Tech, child!~~
The pallid arm at his side grabbing at the shotgun and wrestling
to turn it upon the heretek. Thankfully however the first right hand
still maintains control of the firing mechanisms.

~~I have more pressing concerns to attend to, perhaps you
should stop wasting your time with this blithering foul vomitus
and see to the chores yourself.~~

[roll0] Tech-use Trained Int 46 +20, +2 Successes if pass to: Attempt to connect to local vox networks without being noticed.
I believe that is 8 sucesses ... :D


He turns, pushing his way through the wall into the adjacent cell block
and continues to look around to see if this one and the one they entered
are linked to the same elevator shaft. His primary focus however is the
vox links.

[Revanus]

Alpharius nods. There might be danger ahead, but a hidden passage suited his sensibilities.

"Very well. You may take me to your leader, Garreth."

[ArcturusV]

If this was the prison it appeared to be, I doubted that the lift spirits would be cooperative in our endeavors, most likely designed to be accessed from a removed location so only authorized personnel could use it. Clearly not actually meant for Demi-Gods to walk among the prisons. After all, why would they? A renegade Angel had only one sentence, death. Anything less than that was a minor disciplinary action among ones own chapter, not a question of a prison sentence.

Still, it couldn't hurt to try. If I found any lift controls there, I would try the simple incantations of activation, trying to send the empty lift to another floor. Should it be stopped their trap foiled, and telling me that there was still someone at their post in this prison, monitoring such things and more than likely already aware of their presence. I almost hoped it was stopped. It'd mean the battle would be joined soon, a chance to be distinguished on the battlefield against the very peoples that had betrayed the Flesh Death.

"At ease, battle is yet to be joined, remain on guard," I commanded my serf, seeing the nervous, pitiful creature clutching his rifle as if it was some great ward against harm. His fear was palpable, surrounded by all this carnage and the mad gibberings of the Witch. It was something he was going to have to get over, if he ever hoped to survive the battlefields awaiting them.

[Malthan]

Sure enough, the controls you find on the lift are unresponsive to any without the correct access codes and clearance. You sense that the device could be manipulated by one with suitable expertise, though the device and its spirit do seem to spark with battle damage.

As for the intended use and capacity, the construct appears to have been designed to move mass deployments of prisoners. A dismembered stubber turret lies in the top right, the guns themselves having obviously been looted and dragged elsewhere for use against the chaos invaders.

Therefore it seems likely that it could support the weight of at your entire contingent. However, with it seemingly damaged, the stress of such a burden could prove too much for it.

"Where's ... damn muscle? Need ... support squad!" The first voice says, gruff and military in its diction.

"I have requisitioned them ... Corporal. Do not .... your place." Says an exotic voice, augmented by armour and foreign, with a callous inflection.

"We're ... overrun ... front lines cannot hold!"

"We are suffering an infestation of our own Cor... The command centre takes priority. Die well."

"You ba-"

"Yes, good, the blue/green hero is of understanding. We must be going. Down, down into ground then down again into water, then crawl like spider through the water trench. I take you but you protecting me yes? Not best at fighting wolves, best at guiding sheep yes."

Gareth abruptly turns and stare in disbelief at the confrontation between Tech and Ved.

"What, what are you doing Mechanical man? Leave Archimedes rest, need rest to join his War God, die in battle is best yes? Leave him, must be going, must be dying, is destiny yes! Cannot take, too slow, too weak, leave him, dead dead."

The injured soldier groans, as Tech appears to have mostly staunched the heaviest bleeding but without continued attention his likelihood of surviving still looks dire.

"Have mission, Archimedes knows this, knew sacrifice, knew is best to leave him yes."

[ArcturusV]

... did a witch just try to invoke the War Given Form?

I shook my head at the very thought as the words of the others drifted to my enhanced ears. There was always a new form of insanity when following the Black Legion, most of which vexed him terribly. With a sigh I turned to look up the Lift Shaft, to see what might lie above in wait. Wide expanses and floods of light that might signify a surface exist from the prison and that these cells might be 'below' the effective ground level of their level. The Mages of the Mechanicus and Iron Warriors seemed involved in some dispute, and I was quite willing to let them remain in that fashion. The nature of chaos to cull the weak and lavish the survivors, if they did go to blows, it would likely leave the band stronger in the long term than the loss of one of them would inflict.

[Revanus]

Alpharius hefts his Heavy Bolter meaningfully.

"You will be protected. Move to the center--we will surround you. Lead on through instruction."

Tapping into his microbead, Alpharius subvocalizes a terse statement.

<The summoner is willing to lead us to his leader. He knows of an underground passage. Those interested--let's reform and move on. Bodyguard formation--protective bodies flanking the psycher from all angles."

[Jyssika]

Tech catches up with the Flesh Death at the elevator;
Are you unequipped with a Vox Marine?

He continues to attempt to maintain the vox link he has
secured and does his best to extract as much information
as he can, whilst eagerly eyeing the damaged lift;
You wish me to repair this?

--

As the second voice cuts into his mind through the Vox box
he designates a distinct channel for it and replies after speaking
to the Flesh Death.

+You believe it wise to follow the instructions of the bewildered mutant?
I have managed to intercept local vox traffic, perhaps it would be prudant
to observe before we storm in without adiquate intel?+

[Malthan]

The vox-chatter devolves into mindless screaming and occasional bursts of encoded coordinates for extraction. It appears that the battle for the front-lines has gone in the favour of the dark gods.

The lift appears to go up a great deal, though there are no lights left activated to show the extent. By contrast, the servo-skull appears to calculate that this lift only goes down one level to the ground floor.

"Don't... listen to me! Don't trust ..." The Red Soldier gargles through his own blood.

Gareth follows the three armed Iron Warrior, occasionally glancing back with some concern at the tech-priest and his wounded comrade.

Upon arriving at the elevator, he stares with some recognition. The mutant appears jumpy and clings close to the armoured shape of Tech.

"Ah yes, damage in battle. Not good, many shackles and chains near here I think. Always more of them, so many bodies and shackles and chains. This is bad place but we must quick move, hurry to master and mistress. They stuck, not by shackles and chains but other big bad thing. All bad, but some thing more bad than other thing."

He nods in solemn agreement with his own rambling.

[ArcturusV]

My vox link did seem to be working, working quite well in fact, as the Iron Warrior was able to get my vitae information, should he actually know how to understand such information. I scowled beneath my helmet, and my sigh of frustration at the gibbering madness of the Witch continued, making no sense in the least bit to me. Either because I was not 'blessed' enough by the Ruinous Powers to understand the insanity, or because there was in fact nothing to understand there.

"I know one thing," I replied over the Vox Link to the Iron Warrior, "We are not where we are meant to be. Either the meddling of the Ruinous powers, betrayal within the ranks of the Black Legion, or the actions of the enemy. Whatever the result, they wanted me here. A good reason not to be here." I looked up the shaft again, pondering the distance between the 'floors' of the prison. "Perhaps rip the lift out of its bindings, and give us a more dynamic entry to clear the lower floor." There was a world of difference between coming down slowly on an addled machine spirit, and soaring through the air capping your would be ambusher in the face. "Get out, find a new location to clear and secure, then we can proceed from there."

Arkan was nervously looking towards the witch, readying his rifle in case the unstable slave to the Dark Gods snapped. The Witch Breed was never to be trusted, he knew that much from his former, shattered life. If not for a lack of orders, and the calming presence of Hector, he would have taken his blade and spilled the witch's blood, just to be certain to forestall disasters.

[Jyssika]

Tech found the marines vitals, briefly confused as to why the
Flesh Death had not replied to him earlier... Perhaps he had
been too preoccupied with other matters.

++We could always just put the mutant on the lift and send him up.++

His hand twitches but he manages to keep it clenched on his shotgun,
++The foul thing clings to my back like a cancerous infant to its mother.++


He reaches past the other marine and takes a closer look at
the elevator. As he works he makes polite conversation.

[roll0] Tech-use Trained Int 46 +20, +2 Successes if pass to: Attempt to decern the condition of the lift and whether it is fixable.
Four Successes I believe.

It would appear the front lines have been breached by our forces, perhaps
we could seek Vox contact with said forces? I also believe they are saving all
reserve forces to fortify the command centre.

[Revanus]

Alpharius responds quietly to the Iron Warrior's queries.

<I believe the psycher's capacity for guile is...limited. He is not sane, and evidently a pawn of some higher power. I see no reason not to explore the thread of why we were summoned here. If this is a trap, the nature of our group seems substantial enough to repulse a sizeable attack.

Rationally, I do not believe we were summoned here only to be sacrificed--I believe the motivating power views us as, at worst, an asset worth a significant investment of manpower and lives.>

[Cognomeng]

Ved tilts his head at Archimedes. "I trust no one. Especially not servants of Chaos. Now stop talking and start healing, with any luck your body will repair itself enough to allow you to leave and find aid." Having said and done his part, Ved stands up and walks to the Lift room. "Allow me to examine it." The Servo-Skull lets out a burst of binary. "It only seems to goes down one level." Ved translates. He then lets out three bursts of binary of his own, whilst crouching near the lift control panel and attempting to glean information from it as well as fix it.


The wounded one says not to trust our psyker. I concur with him. Inform the others via vox.
Tech-Use!!!!!!
No idea what the difficulty is. But what I want out of it.
1. How many floors is it programmed to go to(and how many actual floor buttons are there)
2. Make sure it is capable of moving and carrying our brood.
3. Check for EXPLOSIVES!!!! And other boring traps.
4. Are there any useful bits I could scavenge should we no longer need the Lift.
TECH USEEEEE!!!!! [roll0] TN 65(55 Base +10 Combi-Tool) And another +10 if combi-tool stacks with Utility Mechadendrite.

[Malthan]

The lift does seem to be repairable and it's design is crude at best, making it fairly comprehensible. To repair it, the battle damage would simply have to be accounted for, though a few bullet holes decorate the main control panel. Therefore the difficulty would be done at a minor penalty of -10.

However, more complicated would be the attempts to circumvent the security based lockdown. You would need to bypass the lockdown manually and this might require more skill and effort.

Ved's attempts to examine it are less successful. For one, there are no obvious traps but they are rarely obvious after all. The floor buttons list at least a dozen levels up but only one below. This complex appears to adhere to the mega-structure design of many Imperial asylums, with denizens being kept

You can finds little worth scavenging, except a small aesthetic aquilla that you can pull off.


"Fear not brave lords. As I say before, I know that the way for chaos is forever down. We must be going here."

Gareth repeatedly taps the symbol to go down, with a feminine, yet official sounding automated voice saying,

"Access denied."

"Down, down into ground then down again-"

"Access denied."

"Into pipe, then march through the water trench. I-

"Access denied."

"take you there, but beware, I know shackle-men are still-"

"Access denied."

"Living, many survive dark clouds, very angry and not fearing-"

"Access denied."

[ArcturusV]

"Sit still and leave it to your betters!" I snapped harshly at the witch as he kept hammering on the panel. I doubted that his crude attempts would help awaken the machine spirit. And I guessed that it might in fact complicate the ability of Tech and the Heretek to actually bypass the machine spirit voice that kept replying to his insane rambling and false incantations to the Machine Spirit.

"And you, act like a warrior!" I cuffed Arkan, not enough to injure him, but to startle him out of his rattled mindset and get him looking around once more for possible ambush. Unlikely as it was here, breeding lax behavior in a potential Marine was never something I would stand for.

[Jyssika]

Tech steps in next to Ved; pointing to specific points
whilst giving him a full breakdown of everything he has
spotted thus far, essentially bringing him upto speed on
anything he has missed.

Perhaps if we were to work together we could do this much quicker. I have informed the others via vox, I can relay all communications via binary until we find a suitable vox system for you.

Tech then sets about relaying the Hereteks message.
++The Heretek wished you to know: The wounded one says not to trust our psyker.
I concur with him. Inform the others via vox.++


[roll0] Tech Use Trained Int 46 +20, +another 10 is MIU can be plugged in. +2 Successes if pass to: If Ved gets more successes Tech will assist
7/8 Successes
[roll1] Security Trained Int 46 if pass to: If Ved gets more successes Tech will assist.

[Malthan]

With a satisfying click, the system appears to be suitable fixed by Tech and ready for activation. However, your less than subtle attempt at bypassing security does not seem to have the intended affect.

Up in the right hand corner, the destroyed turret comes to half-life, whirring awkwardly and rotating to point at Tech. You notice that there is a grey and ugly human head attached to the creation, probably some variant of gun-servitor technology.

"Identify."

It orders, clearly perturbed by your disturbance but seemingly not aware of its own dismantled nature. It's dull eyes and ruptured cables stare impotently at the group, where once a dozen barrels might have whirred at your intrusion.

This is more flavour than anything, the -20 Security Test is still available. Repeated failures might prompt something however.

[Cognomeng]

Ved mutters his thanks as the Techmarine repairs the Lift almost single handedly. He tells Niet in binary what he's doing as he makes a minor wiring adjustment to swap the wires for the first floor and top floor buttons. Then starts as the security system comes online. He mutters to Niet in binary. "Let me have a look at that."


With Niet assisting, I believe it makes the TN 45, 55 base -20 difficulty +10 assist
Security [roll0] TN 45

[meltodowno]

Stryx still hung back, content to be at the rear and let the others do the scrabbling for the moment, but as the attempts to fix the lift continued, his patience started to wane.

"Tear it out and be done. We have not got time to linger."

His voice came out, with a mechanical rasp to the edge of his words. This voice was still relatively new to him, but no matter, it suited his needs.

He broadcast over the vox:

+We should resolve combat doctrine before we engage hostiles. I am an assault specialist, though I prefer to harry opponents than to engage from the front, given chance. You may call me Stryx. +

[Malthan]

"Processing. Acknowledge. Commissar Boris Markus Ivenko.

Situation Report:

Containment Cells
Cell Block Ground Floor Through To Second Floor: Compromised
All Other Floors Through To Observatory and Communications Tower: Not Compromised

Security Diagnostics:

Elevator: Operational
Turrets: Not Operational
Gas Streams: Operational
Omega Device: Operational"

Gareth eyed the machine awkwardly, clapping his hands together as you claim success but shuddering at the mentions of gas and the floors that are not yet compromised.

"Good, now we go down, not want stay here, very bad, shackles and chains everywhere, no gunshaft but chains still hurt, not want anymore. Come, must be quick to save master and mistress, must go fast to centre of commanding yes?"

[ArcturusV]

I had no idea why the Heretek had a Commissar's security clearance on his beck and call... but it probably was an interesting story. Getting onto the lift I seemed to take a moment to get my blood flowing, shifting my weight in the power armor, working out some joints as I shook my arms, nice and loose. "All those too large to fit up the stairs, on the lift, and those of appropriate size, take the stairs?" I voiced over my vox link, even as I absently wondered what an 'omega device' actually was.

"Arkan you miserable wretch. Follow the Heretek and try to not be an embarrassment to me!" I barked out to my serf, as Arkan gave a sloppy salute with the stub rifle and looked to Ved for guidance.

[Jyssika]

Tech look across to the other Astartes.
++I am Tech Niet of the Iron Warriors, I should be addressed as Tech.
I am capable in both ranged and melee combat.++

He hefts his shotgun in his right hands with the left on the butt of his chainsword.
++The Heretek has altered the lift so that it only goes up, if you are capable of Climbing
we could assend under the lift by hand and it would provide us with better cover than
assending as sitting targets on a slow lift.++

I have explained your alterations to the Marines.

[roll0] Tech Use Int 46 +20, +another 10 if MIU counts. +2 Successes if pass to: secure their vox channel.

++It may be wise to remember our mortal companions do not have Vox links.++

[Cognomeng]

"Gather on the lift platform if you do not wish to climb, a few minor alterations and we will be off. And if one of you finds a Commissar hat, I would like it." Ved is clearly amused. He waits for those who are getting on, to get on. Then hits the top floor button. He draws his Long-Las, crouches behind one of the marines, and waits.


Disabling the Gas Streams and Omega device totally, and attempting to lock out the control system from others trying to access. I'll roll if you tell me, but since I have bypassed the system's security, I don't think it is required.

Password: 1+1=3/Innovation>Dogma

I expect any Tech-Priests who input that password gain Corruption :smallbiggrin:

[Revanus]

<Alpharius.>

As for his position and skills, the Alpha Legionnaire does not offer more. The Heavy Bolter and camo cloak, however, should give some indication of his skillset.

[jolinaxas]

"Shandra."

She stepped onto the platform as well.

"This is a return trip for me. Also, I'd like the offer to outbid him for the hat. Or the opportunity to purchase a second one, if found."

[Cognomeng]

Ved sighs. He then pulls out his dataslate and chirps away in binary. Finishing entering a short amount of text, he hands it to Shandra. "Do you concur?"


Security systems still active, some sort of gas and an Omega device. Recommendation, use the lift until we engage hostiles, then immediately dismount. Would be most expedient. I am informing Shandra.



Psyker is not to be trusted, and we are diverging from his plan. We are also excluding him from conversation using Binary and Helmet Voxes. Unfortunately this leaves you incommunicado. Recommend you follow our lead. Lift still has some traps. Logic leads to assuming they will activate them AFTER we have proven to be hostile. I believe continuing on the lift until we encounter hostiles would be most expedient.

[Jyssika]

An adiquate solution to the problem.

The Flesh Death: All those too large to fit up the stairs, on the lift, and those of appropriate size, take the stairs?
The *describes Alpharius's armour colour* has said his name is Alpharius.
The World Eater: We should resolve combat doctrine before we engage hostiles. I am an assault specialist, though I prefer to harry opponents than to engage from the front, given chance. You may call me Stryx.

Omega device? Any idea?

[roll0] Knowledge Tech Int 46, +2 Successes if succeed: Omega Device?

THE OMEGA DEVICE IS A BOMB! RUN AWAY!

[Revanus]

As the import of the change in plans registers for Alpharius, he takes the Psycher by the arm and steps off the lift.

"Wait here a moment."

Remaining off the lift, Alpharius keeps his bulk in front of the psycher. Turning to the Iron Warrior, he utilizes his microbead and commences his subvocalized connection. Any with a vox or microbead will be party to what Alpharius says next.


<I pay you the courtesy of not showing your hand outright. However, I have no desire to go up. Enemy capabilities are unknown, as is any meaningful objective. The Observatory and Communications tower is likely to either be heavily guarded, or of limited tactical advantage. Moreover, I would be unsurprised if the Omega Device refers to a self-destruct mechanism--this being an Imperial prison complex with likely contingency plans in place for an inmate revolt.>


Alpharius coolly regards his companions, before continuing with his subvocal speech.


<Additionally, altering a lift to be unidirectional severely limits extraction options. It is a...poor plan. I intend to head below and meet our summoner's master. Convince me why assaulting a defended keep makes more sense than following the lackey sent to greet us. Otherwise, if you persist in going up, you will do so without heavy weapons support.>

[Jyssika]

Tech, since he was singled out, replies with his reasoning behind
why the current plan is to go up.

++Remember that the Black Legion's plan was for us to arrive within
the command center its self as a relief force for the Vanguard attack.++
He gestures with his hand to their surroundings.
++We did not make it; whatever forces initially made it to the correct
destination are expecting our immediate arrival and the longer it takes
us to arrive the less likely they are to be alive.++

He eyes the psyker before making his next point.
++As much as I do not agree that it is the best of plans to go charging
through the third level to get to our destination and that this was the
whole point of our having to employ sorcerous teleportation I also do
not have faith in our guide. Not that I am suggesting it is
dangerous but what if it leads us on nothing more than a red herring
and we waste valuable time we could be using to attempt to break
through to the command tower in order to reinforce the vanguard force.++
Then the Heretek
++As for the lift, ... I believe the Heretek wishes to somehow assert his
will over us with his alterations to the lift... Perhaps he feels we might see him as
disposable if we do not need him to reverse his alterations to our escape method.++

The extra arm spasms; convulsing and clawing at the pump of
his shotgun before slapping angrily against Tech's chest.

++I believe we are duty bound to the forces we are supposed to be reinforcing
to atleast assess whether it is possible to take a direct route before seeking less
certain courses of action.. Perhaps we should take a vote?++

[Revanus]

Alpharius nods to the Iron Warrior, though anyone with a working vox/microbead is included in the conversation.

<Have the Heretek stop the lift and reverse his modification. Then we may weigh the merits of a frontal assault and come to a united conclusion. If he cannot...it only underscores the unsound nature of blindly assaulting the upper levels of the prison--which is not a primary objective.

The psycher claims that the tunnels will lead to the command bunker, and I do not detect deception in his behavior--only fear and nervousness. He is clearly here under orders of a higher power. He seems to fear the prospect of Imperial interception, as well as what might await us upon arrival at the command bunker.

However, I would sooner seek my fate in the shadows than assault an enemy position of unknown strength. I do not fear combat--but I suspect the threat is lesser down below. If we face resistance in the tunnels, it is unlikely to be as sophisticated and prepared as a prison with built-in countermeasures and fortified command and control. Additionally, following our "welcoming committee" at least has the prospect of a tangible resolution. As they say, better the Daemon you know than the perils of the Warp.>

[Jyssika]

As recieves the words Deamon and Perils of the warp a visible
twitch occurs within Tech, the arm however seems relaxed and
rolls its fingers calmly.

Tech listens intently and nod's as a mark of respect Alpharius

++You are taking into account the testimony of the psykers
former companion, although we only have the Hereteks word
to go by it is troublesome that the Red Warrior warned us to
not trust this mutant psyker.

I fear your analogy is entirely incorrect, neither path shall be
the Deamon we know...++

After replying he begins binary chatter.


Alpharius wishes to come to a decision as to our course of action,
he asks that the lift to be restored to function in both directions
and vouches for the honesty of the mutants claims. He believes a
head on assault to be unwise, especially since that is the reason
we were to use teleportation in the first place to avoid fighting
through the 3rd tier.

I have suggested a vote, because I believe time to be of the essence.

[Cognomeng]

Ved's response in binary is very loud, and almost painful to human ears.


The lift is still capable of functioning in both directions, I just swapped button functions. Proceeding out of this building into the open is a fools errand, the war still rages out there, and that is made worse with a untrustworthy if not downright traitorous guide. We should be ascending. If the Command center isn't on the top floors, alternate routes and lifts to it are likely to be. And even if there aren't we can cause much confusion with the elimination of the Imperial forces up there, including possible leadership elements, and the re-purposing of a Commcenter. If we must vote I vote to ascend, and I will attempt to boost the lift's speed to reduce our vulnerability. If Shandra does not concur we can take her vote as descend, and if she does we take it to mean ascend.

[jolinaxas]

Ved sighs. He then pulls out his dataslate and chirps away in binary. Finishing entering a short amount of text, he hands it to Shandra. "Do you concur?"

Psyker is not to be trusted, and we are diverging from his plan. We are also excluding him from conversation using Binary and Helmet Voxes. Unfortunately this leaves you incommunicado. Recommend you follow our lead. Lift still has some traps. Logic leads to assuming they will activate them AFTER we have proven to be hostile. I believe continuing on the lift until we encounter hostiles would be most expedient.


Shandra taps back a response, and hands back the slate.


Agreed, on both the psyker, and our continuance until we meet the enemy.



Question - don't we all have micro-beads, as described in the recruitment topic?

[Revanus]

Alpharius offers a slight shake of his head, offering a short vox statement.

<Of course the psycher's companion doesn't trust. He was part of the sacrifice.

It doesn't change the fact that the psycher is clearly under higher orders, and purports to know a covert way to our actual objective--the command center of the third ring.>

He turns to Shandra, speaking in a usual tone of voice.

"You were a prisoner. Do you know where we are in relation to the Command Bunker of the Third Ring? Moreover, do you know what might await us...(slight nod upward)?

What types of countermeasures do prisons keep in place? And have you ever heard of an Omega device?"

Finally he turns to the psycher.

"Why did you kill Archimedes? And tell us true of what happened in the command center--leave nothing out."

He pauses a moment.

"Also--what dangers await us at the end of your underground tunnels?"

[Jyssika]

Tech waits for the conversation to lull before translating the Binary reply.

++The Heretek reasures me the lift is still capable of functioning in both
directions, having just swappedbutton functions. He voices his distain
for leaving the building and notes the importance of any damage we
should be doing. He indicates his vote should be for assending and that
Shandra may also be voting this way.++

Tech listens eagerly at what information Shandra might have, much more
interested in cold hard facts than speculation. He also sets about attempting
to trace the location of the Vox signal he picked up early, having believed
one of the voices to be from an officer within the command centre although
without any auspex or bluepints there would be no way he could plan a
route but atleast getting a vague distance might be useful.

[roll0] Tech Use Int 46 +20, +another 10 if MIU counts. +2 Successes if pass to: try get a vague distance on previous Vox traffic.

[Malthan]

Gareth shrinks to his knees but his lips simultaneously curl into a smile.

"Ah, he says not the right thing but the true thing. I did not kill Archimedes, no no no! Yes he is dying but not me, no that is not fair, you cannot say the thing which is true but never right. He was killed long before he was born you see, the cause and the killer the same as his creator."

He leans in as if to tell a profound truth.

"Destiny did the deed long before I did. But only I know the destiny, the path, you see, for it is shown to me alone. Blessed are my eyes for they can see the one true path to chaos transcendant. All my life they call me mad and ignore destiny, saying the wrong thing, the thing that should not be said, should not be touched no no no! Woe betide them, woe and fate finds them and does what I could only dream of doing."

Nodding and blinking desperately, his voice almost pleading you to understand.

"My lords. It was his time. The colours showed me, they told me that it was. Black you see, it all comes down to blackness and then ... not blackness but nothingness. The nothingness of death and order, of grim omens! Archimedes was one such omen. No good can come from his survival. The sight it shows me thus. Oh my lords you do not know, you cannot know as I know no no no!"

He babbles, throwing up his head to stare at the ceiling.

"I see the colouring blocks of our creation!"

He rises and traces serrated shapes in thin air.

"I feel the warp gates upon my skin and see the rifts and gaps and chinks in reality's defences. The portals, the gates, they call for me to make them real but I cannot! The colours, they need sacrifice to become real. Sometimes the colour tricks me with the thing that is not, they tell me to open them in Paradise castle but they do not show me other colours, colours of gold and yellow and light and all the bloated caustic stars that defile the void, oh she blinded me, my masters the colours how they made me scream! So the colours are there but she twists them until they are not for you, until the rift is not my own but hers and the shackles come instead! So then you are special and trapped within the land of many colours."

Panting Gareth, slowly raised his hands, staring at the blue mossy growth that slowly writhes across his skin.

"So we run. Colours demand, no, need sacrifice. Archimedes think he knows this but he does not know. He hurt many to make them scream for you, for their deaths to glut the colour blocks red like warp gates but yes and no he does not understand his role, his destiny."

Shaking his head, the mutant appears to wince before prostrating himself at your feet.

"I only acted to serve you, my lords, to call you to fulflil your destiny, to save my master and mistress! To call you, to make you hear! Innocent slave things and shackle men and red soldiers, not worthy, not enough to sate colours. Colours need stronger, need champion, need the most powerful force in all of history. They needed Betrayal."

Unfortunately you are unable to get a read on vox distances in this area. It seems likely that going higher up to the Observatory or onto the Command Centre will allow for further vox hacking and access but as it stands you fail to get a proper direction on the previous scraps of vox traffic.

[Jyssika]

Iron Warriors are renown for their Paranoia, if they
were but united they would be an unstoppable super
power but their bitter infighting always stands in the
way of any real achievements.

Tech was proud to be more trusting that his peers,
putting the achievements of his Legion above his own
personal glory. However, he now stood before a creature
that would sacrifice anyone else if he could use their
blood to summon a more powerful ally in their stead.

And if you seek to drag us down to your master and
mistress so they might sacrifice us for yet more
powerful warriors in our place?

His tone is accusatory and hostile and the reaching
claw of mutated flesh stretching against its chest
mounted shoulder join in an attempt to reach out
and throttle did not reasure anyone of Tech's disposition.

[meltodowno]

Stryx' motion stopped at that. Not only was he a psyker, but he admitted willingly killing his ally. How long would it be until he decided he needed more power, and would attempt to tap that well again. He fought his training and restrained himself from lashing out.


++ Does anyone wish to claim ownership of this mewling worm, before I lose my patience and gut him?++

[Revanus]

Alpharius glances at Stryx.

<I claim ownership. Leave him be.>

At the rest of the group, Alpharius cannot help but laugh.

"How testy we grow, over the simple nature of things. It is no small feat to summon warriors out of the Warp itself. Chaos demands sacrifice--sometimes of blood, or pride, or loyalty. So it was on Istvaan. So it is now. Is this news?"

Alpharius shrugs.

"His story rings true--and I have heard many lies in my time. Why is it we so fear the dark?"

[Malthan]

"Yes, snakelord says the thing that is right and the thing that is true. Not my fault, not my choice, must be done for good of chaos, good of cause."

He mutters, his head shaking as much as his quivering body. Whether he is shaking in fear or simply arthritic by right of mutation is not clear.

"Must make sacrifice, is way of chaos, not my choice, just the thing that is true. Win at all costs yes, chaos must win, to win mistress and master must live, lords need save master and mistress. Not need sacrifice you, yes maybe shackle men come with chains, but not sacrifice, not same thing. Need you to live, to save mistress and master, destroy Paradise castle."

He moves from Tech to cower next to Alpharius, obviously noting the Iron Warriors' dangerous disposition.

"Have duty to ruin, to terror, to gods. I hear colours, they tell me make painting of red, make galaxy my canvas. Black masters give me patronage, give me much red to paint with. Fleetmaster has so many colours, so vivid his palette. I am but simple servant, not want to hurt Archimedes but has to, has to obey. Obey gods, obey legion, obey colours. But a simple servant..."

[jolinaxas]

"Well..."


I plan on turning this into actual text later, but so as to not hold things up while I'm still busy, assume access to any of this information (helpfully provided by the GM)

Also, may I submit that the current pace is kind of nuts?

==========================================

You can confirm that you’d definitely know if you were in the command centre since it’s not a prison so much as a veritable fortress, even if it has been breached by the vanguard.

You recall Gareth mentioning this prison complex being adjacent to the Command Centre but the uniform decoration and architecture of many of the prison complexes makes it hard to verify this. If you were able to gain access to the Observatory, you might be able to give a definitive answer. Right now it’s a matter of faith in Gareth.

Observatories/Communication towers are essentially guard towers built atop prison complexes, with the express purpose being able to defend against prison riots while radioing in distress call. As it is located in a natural sniper’s perch, many of the finest crack shots and ruthless killers are posted here. However as mentioned, there are no turrets left remaining, and gas could be any number of things from riot control to toxic

An omega device is something you’ve heard whispers of but only from friends of friends. They are supposedly a safeguard against mass mutiny. However you might consider it only a vague threat, used like the boogeyman to keep the convicts in their place. However, during the chaos invasion, certain prison complexes have been discovered utterly destroyed with no prompt from artillery or external forces, leading many to guess that a select few complexes do indeed possess such doomsday devices.

[Jyssika]

++So we have two for up and two for down++

As he speaks he nods to Alpharious and Gareth,
then Ved and Shandra. He looks to the other two
Astartes.

++Which way do you cast your votes?
Before we all grow impatient.++

[ArcturusV]

I took in a deep, slow breath. My armored gaze fell upon Arkan, and with a cold, almost mechanical sounding voice through the external vox I spoke up to the shattered whelp of a human, "Arkan, First and Second Dictates of Battle!" I snapped out as an order.

Arkan's eyes went wide, and his grip fumbled slightly with his rifle, before he set it down, so the stock rested on the rockrete, he snapped to attention, and his fingers were curled around the barrel ready to bring it back into line. His eyes were locked dead ahead, staring at nothing in particular, and with crisp, loud tones he replied, "Lord, I forget Lord, please forgive Lord!" in a manner so reminiscent of the drill abbot classrooms across the galaxy.

"You are a failure and a disgrace to your warband! 20 Lashes at the evening!" I snapped back.

Arkan nodded, "Thank you Lord!" and took up his stub rifle again into a guard position, knowing enough of his Lord's mood not to slack off.

Shifting my gaze back to the relative equals of the warband, I intoned openly, "What my useless disgrace there has forgotten, is the First and Second Dictates of Battle. The First is that victory comes primarily from Mastery, of yourself, your enemy, and your battlefield. While we may have mastery over our own capabilities, we know little of the Enemy's condition, and the battlefield at this moment. Without these two keys, victory is not a foregone conclusion. The Second is Speed and Ruthlessness, you must be willing to move quicker and go farther than the enemy at all times," something he was sure the World Eater would agree with, as the basic precept of their Legion even back in the dim past before the Horus Heresy was that they always had to be willing to escalate further than the enemy was willing to go.

"Speed is no longer an issue. We have dallied too much, and likely tripped an alarm with the blundered attempt to bypass the spirit of this machine earlier. But we continue to lack key information. Take the high ground. Gather information on the surrounding territory, be ruthless in our execution. That would be my voice in this matter." Nothing about the Dark Gods or their whims. No invocations of the War Given Form or Just as Planned, he spoke simply from the knowledge of Tactics he had, knowledge passed down through his Chapter from the days of their loyalty, and that still held as true now as they did then. Zeal and Faith could carry you far, sure. But steady arms and keen minds carried you further still.

[Revanus]

Alpharius only delays half a beat.

"Wait here, Gareth. Stay safe and out of sight. I will return for you."

He then rejoins the rest of the crew on the elevator.

"Going up?"

[Jyssika]

++Let us hope our delay has not cost us too much,
I should have mentioned a vote earlier and stated
you would surely be outvoted.++

He places only left hand on the pauldron of the final Astartes
to board the lift.

++I valued your imput, however, I value higher the fact
you are willing to trust in a majority decision of your
fellow Astartes.++

Tech's beastial hand pulls the pump action of his
Astartes shotgun, with a heavy click a shell is thrust
into the barrel and he removes his left hand placing
it on the hand guard of his Chainsword.


For what it is worth, Tech never stated which way he would cast his vote...
and he honestly is still undecided what the best action should be. He agrees
it is probably too late to effectively force their way up but still not entirely
convinced there are secret tunnels or that listening to the mutant is a good idea.

[Revanus]

Alpharius offers a nod of acknowledgement, before taking up a position with clear firing lines for his heavy bolter.


Via vox:
<There is a world of difference between an elevator coming online...and an elevator bearing four Astartes coming online. At worst, only the former has been disclosed.>

[Malthan]

As the astartes board the elevation platform, Ved Rho feels energy channel through his internal capacitors, pumping out from his mechanical core and into the elevator control panel. He winces all too humanly, as the strain on his toughness almost fails him, the overcharge wracking not only the elevator but also himself.

Observing him, Tech enacts their plan to supercharge the elevator by wrenching the elevator control switch down. The platform seems to strain for an instant, and it almost seems as if the lift might indeed struggle to carry such a heavy bulk. Finally a calm, mechanical voice answers in a strangely accelerated voice.

"Acknowledged."

Funnily enough, instrumental music (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cUua1qcD5iY) then pours out of the servitor's mouth speakers, though whether by mistake or design you cannot be sure. Staring slack-jawed, Gareth shakes his head furiously.

"No, cannot be, not right, must save mistress, must save master. Lords are not the right things, they are wrong, why, why wrong, how can heroes be wrong..."

The elevation platform then shoots up, ascending suddenly and with enough force to send Arkan sprawling to his knees in surprise.

"Do not leave me to shackles and chains!"

The mutant's voice manages to shriek, his high pitched voice following you as the platform hurtles upwards. The vessel moves so quickly and so furiously, straining against its mechanical design that you have barely any time to see the other floors as they fly by. Initially you can make out much of the same as before, with bloody bodies and destroyed jail cells. Soon however you see the opposite, rows upon row of filled cells, full of contained prisoners, most of who appear too shocked to move while many others call out to you desperately for release.

Yet the elevator is too consumed by power to stop, its machine spirit raging ahead with a force and power that it has never known before. You sail by at least half a dozen floors of brimming cells before the augmented among you hear voices certainly not belonging to trapped prisoners.

"Form up... commissar's on his way!"

"Sergeant, we need to stop the damn lift! Could be any-"

The elevator slams to a halt at the top of the watchtower, in plain view of a huddled formation of guardsmen.

http://media.moddb.com/cache/images/groups/1/11/10806/thumb_620x2000/833346MaccabianJanissaries.jpg
These are the penal legionnaires of Licentia Prime, each one covered with ragged trench coats that overlay their flak armour and decorative chains linking their gloves to their guns. The warriors you face now appear unique in that each man is equipped with a long-barreled las rifle, sight scopes studded in at the top of each weapon. Marksmen, you assume.


They are spread out across the observatory, with most of the gaunt soldiers taking their positions behind communication terminals and blocky radio devices. Others crouch behind overturned desks and makeshift barricades, their weapons readied and armed, clearly expecting trouble.

The only one out of place appears to be their sergeant, who stands out neatly in the open, clearly intending to have formed his men into an entirely different welcome committee.

"By the god-emperor..."

He manages to croak before the entire room goes to hell.

This is an enemy horde of size magnitude 30. For the purposes of combat, they are in weak cover worth 4 armour points and the closest of them lie 15 metres away from you.

There is no cover within the elevator or the immediate area in front of it. The closest cover, worth 4 armour points, is an abandoned work station 8 metres away from you to the left of the shaft.

[Cognomeng]

Ved springs into action surprisingly quick screaming "Smoke Grenades!" And diving off the lift platform and landing on his belly. He lifts his Long-Las and fires a snap shot at the furthest marksmen he can see. While he lies prone he is generating a series of Binary bursts.


So, first 1/2 action to "dolphin dive" to prone to give enemies a -10 to hit me.
Second is firing from prone, it counts as short range, and the Long Las has a Red dot sight, so +20. [roll0] TN 58




Ved orders the Servo-Skull to rush to the cover. Does the workstation have a cogitator or other device the Skull can link to? And I'm assuming if someone else needs it they can hit cover with it, it is quite small after all.

[ArcturusV]

I knew that for most here, I was likely a figure who inspired awe and terror. My armor covered in the spikey bits of Chaos, though my colors and heraldry following the patterns of the Loyalist Astartes. The blade and bolt pistol I held in hand promising swift death, even to a massed formation. The back of my mind studied the men in their flak coats and cowering in cover, this place was built to overwatch the vast areas outside, and their gear showed it. Without these men, movement would be far, far easier.

"Let the Galaxy Burn!" I called out, in a deep booming bass voice, echoing the cries of my current employer, knowing it would rattle the guardsmen, as power armor and astartes moved together, an armored death machine swiftly covering the gap, blade held high, crashing into the nearest of the mob, the blade singing out as the Power Field crackled and burned the air around it.

15m to the horde is just within Charge Range for me, 4 Agility Bonus, +1 from Size (Hulking), times 3 for Charge Speed.

Note when Calcing Horde Magnitude Damage: Power Weapons inflict +1 hit, and SPESS MEHREENS inflict +1 for every 2 Degrees of Success on the WS Test.

Attack: [roll0] vs 41 WS, +20 Charge Standard Attack, +30 Horde Size, baseline mark of 91.

Damage (To overcome their Soak, since they don't take actual damage but each hit that overcomes their soak inflicts 1 Magnitude Damage):
[roll1] +6, +9 SB (3 Natural, 4 Unnatural, 2 Power Armor), Pen 6 Energy Damage.
[roll2] +6, +9 SB (3 Natural, 4 Unnatural, 2 Power Armor), Pen 6 Energy Damage.
[roll3] +6, +9 SB (3 Natural, 4 Unnatural, 2 Power Armor), Pen 6 Energy Damage.
[roll4] +6, +9 SB (3 Natural, 4 Unnatural, 2 Power Armor), Pen 6 Energy Damage.
[roll5] +6, +9 SB (3 Natural, 4 Unnatural, 2 Power Armor), Pen 6 Energy Damage.
[roll6] +6, +9 SB (3 Natural, 4 Unnatural, 2 Power Armor), Pen 6 Energy Damage.

Use them in order as needed, but I believe any hit will of course slice and dice through a guardsman's soak. Total overkill.

"Arkan, Fifth Dictate of Battle!" I roared from the melee with the guardsman.

Arkan let out a "Y-yes Lord!" and seemingly remembered what this was, as he knelt down and drew up his rifle, aiming down his scope at the Sergeant, attempting to slow his breathing to steady his aim and quell his hammering heart amid the chaos of battle.

He's taking a Full Action Aim at the Sergeant, which will grant him a +30 to his next attack as long as he doesn't die horribly or take a non-attack action before then.

[meltodowno]

Stryx uttered an unheard blasphemous curse of his own as the room came into view. He knew that to make his own weapons count he'd have to cross the killing ground, luckily they had left some cover half way there.

He dashed towards the desk and crouched down low behind it. He wouldn't be firing a weapon, so he no reason to be more exposed than he had to be.


Full Action Move to the cover of the desk.

[Revanus]

Alpharius is unfazed by the large force of dug-in marksmen up ahead. This was expected.

"Suppressing fire."

With expert control, Alpharius squeezes the trigger of his ancient weapon with his right hand. His left hand braces against the recoil of the heavy weapon, guiding it in a sweeping path over the mass of guardsmen. The 25mm shells pour from the autocannon's barrel, before shrieking off under their own power to explode in the direction of the penal legionnaires.

Attack Roll:
Full-Action--Suppressive fire on the guardsmen.
Occurs Second in Initiative--After Ved's potshot but before everyone else.
Horde must take a +10 pinning test (-20 pinning test+30 for magnitude)

[roll0] vs. 62 (42 BS+10 Short Range (under 75m)+30 horde size-20 suppressive fire)

Hit 1:
[roll1] Pen 5
[roll2] Pen 5

Hit 2:
[roll3] Pen 5
[roll4] Pen 5

Hit 3:
[roll5] Pen 5
[roll6] Pen 5

Explosive Extra Hit:
[roll7] Pen 5
[roll8] Pen 5

[jolinaxas]

Shandra dove for cover, and couldn't help but crack a twisted smile as she heard one of the marines charge into the thick of it.

"Yes! Let it all burn!"


Using a full action to run (-20 bs to attempts to hit her) to cover, if available.

[Jyssika]

Tech was relatively slow compared to his fellow Astartes,
slow infact even compared to the guard but that did not
deter him.

Iron Within! Iron Without!
His vox screams to life, in some predeterimed war setting
most probably reserved for the heat of battle, the mechanical
amplifiers creaking and popping as they struggle to cope with
the vicious vibrations they are producing.

Following the Flesh Death he charges, a stampede of metal
as he crosses the room. Reaching with his left hand to draw
his Chainsword as he does so, only to realize the pallid and
beastial second right hand had already snatched it
from his grasp and was swinging it wildly.

The arm does its owner proud; cleaving the first guardsman
entirely in half at the waist a butchering and brutal chopping action.
The blade turned, and cut a deep arching slash across the
throat of a second before finally turning on a third, in a gush
of black and crimson the sword caught the final guardsman
between the legs and proceeded to entirely bisect him vertically
viciously sawing from his precious privates through his chest
and eventually carving a trench between his eye sockets.

Tech's attempt with the powerful Servo arm however is much
less effective it smashes wildly against a floor a whole foot
away from its intended target.

[Malthan]

Ved’s opening shot splattered one of the rear guardsmen, his body slumping to his knees slowly. Then the Alpha Legionnaire’s heavy bolter whirred up and began to hammer through the makeshift cover, sending at least a dozen slave soldiers diving away from the kill zone, some of them reacting too slowly to the suppressive fire to escape the blaze of death.

It is of some small credit that the majority of them remained unfazed by the attempt to send them scurrying however.

“Put ‘em down!”

A strained voice cried, and a few lasguns went off in an irregular pattern, most of them cracking harmlessly against the nearby elevator.

“Don’t shoot that one! Get the grey one, the big bastard’s gonna charge the fortifications! Get those guns on overload! Volley fire damn you, volley, strike ‘em many times at once to crack their armours weak spot, no not like-“

The sergeant fumed at his men, who instinctively obeyed and went to adjust their gun settings. This ironically made them miss, as they fumbled for the right controls. Even worse, they attempted to awkwardly time their shots to strike the same spot simultaneously, perhaps under some superstition regarding ceramite protection. This was not a winning strategy.

It was clear that these men were more suited to sniping helpless mortals from roof tops, as the added pressure of a direct engagement had clearly made them just about hopeless at shooting.

“Mother….”

One of the guardsmen garbled as he saw Hector and Tech pound forwards, his next movement being to fall to the floor, headless. The Flesh Death warrior scythed through the front lines effortlessly, clean and broad strokes sweeping left and right, leaving multiple penal legionnaires bisected. By comparison, Tech’s blows were more rigid and methodical, his chainsword lacking the clean killing power of a power sword and thus forcing Tech to ravage his targets one by one, the blade tearing them apart and often leaving them quite literally screaming their guts out.

At the work station, the servo-skull and Shandra notice a blinking symbol, signifying an outgoing message. Looking up Shandra and Ved see the sergeant scurrying away in horror from the combat, yelling into a mouth piece:

“This is Apollo Tower Beta Niner, we’ve got goddamn space marines up our asses, requesting immediate reinforcements.”

[ArcturusV]

"SCREAM A CHORUS FOR MY BLADE!" I called out as a battle cry, as I reversed my grip on the power sword, coming in for a wide arcing smash that was putting his full weight and momentum into ripping through the assembled guardsmen, the bolt pistol remaining silent, the only percussive beat to the cacophony of battle being the strumming of the Alpha Legion's Heavy Bolter.

Hector will indeed take an All Out Attack against the Horde.

Attack Roll: [roll0] vs 41 WS, +30 All Out Attack Action. Final Mark of 71.

I think it's safe to say any hits will do damage even if I roll Minimum at this point, so lets just call it 1 Magnitude Damage for a hit, +1 for Power Sword, and +1 for every 2 DoS.

Arkan meanwhile, had taken aim, drawn down on the stub rifle, and had the Sergeant square in his crosshairs. Silently mouthing an oath of bloodshed, he waited until his heart stilled, and pulled the trigger...

Taking a Standard Shot Action, after that will move forward towards the Horde/Sergeant by 1 meter as a half action move.

Attack Roll: [roll1] vs 27 BS, +10 Standard Shot Action, +20 Full Action Aim, +10 Accurate Bonus, +10 Short Range. Final Mark of 77.

Damage: [roll2] +3 Pen 1 Impact Damage.
Note that as an Accurate Weapon if I got 2 DoS it's +1 Damage Dice, if 4 DoS it's +2 Damage Dice. These dice can't trigger Zealous Hatred, which is why I'm rolling separately, but they are all added together for 1 damage total:
[roll3]

After which he gets off his knee and starts to close towards cover, his task completed... for now.

[meltodowno]

With a roar, Stryx charged into the guardsmen at the other side to the others.

"Blood for the Blood God!"

He almost leapt into the throng of guards awaiting him, Lightning claws lashing out at all near, flensing flesh and bone with equal ease where it touched.


[roll0] TN 110

+1 Hit every two degrees of success, +1 Hit Power Weapon
Each hit +2 damage per degree of success (though I doubt it matters)

rolling some damage
1 [roll1] Pen 9
2 [roll2] Pen 9
3 [roll3] Pen 9
4 [roll4] Pen 9
5 [roll5] Pen 9
6 [roll6] Pen 9
7 [roll7] Pen 9
8 [roll8] Pen 9
9 [roll9] Pen 9

[Revanus]

Alpharius adjusts his aim, lowering the 1-inch muzzle of the heavy bolter to a more merciless angle. If the first salvo was meant to suppress, this one is meant to kill.

With an ironic smile, Alpharius utters a phrase seldom heard from the ranks of chaos.

"For the Emperor."

The fist-size heavy bolter shells rocket away from the belching autocannon--eager to do their unholy work.

Full-Auto Attack
[roll0] vs. 62 (42 BS+10 half-aim+10 short range+10 horde size-10 full auto)

Hit 1:
[roll1] Pen 5
[roll2] Pen 5

Hit 2:
[roll3] Pen 5
[roll4] Pen 5

Hit 3:
[roll5] Pen 5
[roll6] Pen 5

Hit 4:
[roll7] Pen 5
[roll8] Pen 5

Hit 5:
[roll9] Pen 5
[roll10] Pen 5

Hit 6:
[roll11] Pen 5
[roll12] Pen 5

Explosive Hit:
[roll13] Pen 5
[roll14] Pen 5

[Cognomeng]

Ved, still lying prone on the ground notes the Sergeant calling for reinforcements and takes aim for a moment before squeezing the trigger of his Long-Las.

Meanwhile, the Servo-Skull has begun attempting to interface with the Cogitator at the work station.


Long-Las, Short+10, Red Dot+10, Half aim(with accurate) +20.
So a TN of 78 [roll0]
Damage [roll1] pen 1
Accurate damages [roll2] [roll3]

Servo-Skull tech-use to turn on the cogitator and see what it does.
[roll4] TN 27(uh-oh)

[Jyssika]

++They call for support! Can you cover the entraces Alpharius?++

Kill the sergeant and take his Vox!

Tech lifts his Shotgun, pushing the barrel of the
gun into the chest of a guardsman infront of him
just as the angry mutant arm scythes the poor
child in two.

[roll0] 43+30 AOAttack+30 Horde (103)
[roll1] 43-20 Untrained+30 Horde (53)

Realizing he cannot hope to hit a target before
his possessed limb has already cut it in two he
focusses on using his Servo Arm more effectually
this time. What follows is utter slaughter, the angry
mutant limb hacking four marines to ribbons whilst
the giant metal one crushes the throat of one before
crushing another unto pulp.

[jolinaxas]

Shandra looked down at her laspistol, but she'd only handled a gun for the few moments she'd had to practice after receiving it in the first place. Hitting the sergeant at this distance was a dubious prospect, especially as she'd have to switch hands with her sword to put the weapon in her dominant hand -but if she could get closer...


Running up to 16m towards the sergeant, stopping short if that would put her in melee range.

[Malthan]

The massacre is short and not at all sweet.

“It’s no good, we can’t hold them!”

One of the men cries before being sheared in half by Stryx’ claws, which slides effortlessly into the next guardsmen and the next and the next. This is no longer warfare but mindless worship to the red god.

A pack of them are herded by Hector’s groundshaking boots, the dark warrior shepherding them into a corner so that he might drive his powers sword through all of them at once. Their impaled bodies let out consecutive screams of terrible, visceral pain, their cries of fear turning into blood filled gasps.

Tech’s experimentation with his additional arm as a weapon is a resounding success for the Iron Warrior, the fleeing guardsmen that had hoped to outmaneuver him are instead picked off one by one, falling over themselves trying to avoid his grabbing appendage as it dismantles them piece by piece.

Revanus waits a moment, allowing Hector to step out of his firing arc. In the following seconds a swathe of panicing slaves to the false-emperor are torn apart by the thundering heavy weapon fire. One of them falls to her knees, weeping at the Alpha Legionnaire's blasphemous invocation before a bolter blows off her jaw.

Watching all of this with darting eyes, the Sergeant curses and begins to speak into his headset:

“Cancel that, surround the building but do not go in, I’m activating the devi-“

He manages before a crack of Ved’s rifle sears through his leg. Stumbling and gasping, he falls onto a nearby railing and slides down to one knee. Grunting, he flicks something on his helmet and you can suddenly hear his voice echo throughout the complex.

“Access code –ahhhgh- Omega…”

If the men weren’t afraid, they were now. A collective moment of shared dread sets in, some diving from the tower’s great height in their mad desperation to escape whatever imminent torment had just been authorized.

“Acknowledged. Venting.”

Came a booming, mechanical voice. Clearly Arkan's interrupting shot hadn't been enough.

The sergeant nods grimly, taking hold of his rifle and whispering a prayer for the god-emperor. Then he plunges it into his mouth, closes his eyes and pulls the trigger.

Click.

When he opens his eyes, he sees Shandra dart through the chaos, her gun raised at his chest. He sighs, throwing his jammed rifle to one side, defiantly limping to his feet. He raises his fists into a fighting stance, his lame leg leaning uselessly to one side.

"I knew I'd die standing."

[Jyssika]

Tech disengages from the melee, the beastile mutant arm
stretching its self in an attempt to reach after the fleeing
guardsmen but disapointingly unable to.

THE DAMN VOX! I may be able to establish a link, come connect to my MIU and use my Vox to cancel the damn bomb!

He does not have long, infact he probably is already too late
but he will still attempt to fix the problem. The shotgun barks
and its payload vomits towards the almost dead Sergeant.

Half Action to shoot
[roll0] 44+10 for Standard +10 for Scatter at short range.
[roll1] Pen 0
[roll2] ZHatred

Half Action to Tech Use?
[roll3] Tech Use Int 46 +20, +another 10 if MIU counts. +2 Successes if pass to: try establish a link to the same channel the sergeant just activated the Omega device on.
6 Successes without the MIU


The shotgun blast screams wide, perhaps because his attention
is on the more pressing issue of securing a Vox connection or
perhaps just out of lack of practice. His primary concern however
was going much better.

[meltodowno]

Stryx grabbed one of the fleeing soldiers, holding it aloft by the throat. The fleeing cowards were beneath him, and soon the squad would have finsihed them off. This one however, he decided to play a little game with. The soldier looked like a toy in his hand, limbs flailing to get free.

"Do you wish to live soldier? I shall make you a deal, and a generous one at that. Kill one of your comrades for the Blood God, and I shall spare you." he dropped the soldier down "Or throw yourself at my mercy and I shall end your life painlessly. Choose."

Stryx readied himself for the soldier's answer, knowing that if the the soldier raised it's weapon to him, he would make sure that it bled out slowly.

"And remove the helmet, I wish to get a better look before I grant you mercy."

[jolinaxas]

As much as she was disgusted by the need to keep this man alive to rescind his order, or at least find a way to get out, Shandra gritted her teeth and walked forward. Just like the trips to level one. Smile and look pretty, and the world is yours. Focusing, she attempted to use the warband's most recent gift to her to its full effect.

"You'll die when you want to, not when some rotting husk wishes. I know what it's like - we may have been designated enemies our entire lives due to circumstances of birth, but we were both just tools to fulfill the maybe-orders of a long dead man."


Attempting to activate her pheremone generator.
Since I assume the area is fairly wide-open, the following Charm tests are only at +10 if this succeeds.
TN 59 (Wil 39 + Routine+20)[roll0]

Attempting to use Serpent's Tongue to gain Peer2:Penal Legionnaires. If this succeeds, any following tests are at +20
TN 66 (Fel 56 + Charm+10)[roll1]

Also, added the bit about the tines after it was said in OOC that we're back to narrative and had him at our mercy.


She closed the gap between them, letting the laspistol in her left hand clatter against the floor. As she reached towards the side of his face, small tines at the ends of her fingers extended themselves.

"Come with us. Unshackle yourself. We can promise you so much more than a sad, useless death you never really asked for. I can promise you whatever you desire."


TN 66, plus any bonuses gained above.
[roll2]

If this doesn't work, some of you space marine types are going to have to hold him down so I can zap-charm him.

[Malthan]

"No man died in His service that died in vain..."

He said wistfully, giving a bitter laugh and inhaling your pheromones deep into his senses, though it didn't seem to faze him.

"Always loved reading about the old heroes... shame my life didn't turn out quite so poetic like..."

Sighing, the sergeant looked over the dead and dying, shaking his head.

"It's alright sweetheart. You don't have to play psychoanalyst with me. I know exactly what you want and what you're really offering."

He took off his helmet and discarded it with his rifle. There was an intrigued look playing across his grizzled features, but there was a nihilistic slant in his eyes.

"I can't reverse it. The order's gone through and it's already been deployed. But I'll tell you what. You promise me and my men a clean death, and maybe give me a pretty view while you do it, and maybe I'll tell you what's in store for you heretical fecks."

What might have been a smile played across his lips, though his look hardened as he saw what Stryx was doing to his last known survivors.

Swallowing deep, the strangled soldier wretches for air. She looks up, quaking in fear and slowly removes her penal death mask to expose a scarred and tattoed face. There's a sad beauty to her features, disfigured by war as she is. Though perhaps that's more of an appeal to a warmonger like Stryx.

"W-w-what? Y-y-ou heard what the sarge did and y-y-ou only care about b-b-bloodshed..."

She spits and stutters, but then her eyes go wide.

"Thron-n-n-ne. Oh gods, y-y-you're the herald of the omeg-g-g-ga..."

She gasps, clutching her rifle to her chest and backing away before stumbling and falling again. She gulps down her stutter, repressing her quivering fear with a fanatical glint in her piercing eyes.

"You wanted this to happen. You wanted us to initiate the final fever..."

Rising with a hint of cowed determination, she raised her weapon to Stryx, for a moment looking as if she was going to give her life for the god-emperor. But then she swerved the barrel to the right, cracking off a shot at one of her squad mates who was preparing to take a pot shot at Stryx. The man stumbled and fell, clutching his burnt out eye.

"F-f-forgive me.... but I can't die to the fever, I can't become one of them..."

With a crackle, you connect to the sergeant’s channel. A mechanical voice updates you on the progress of last known orders:

“Operation Omega –

Level 1: Error: Empty
Level 2: Error: Partial Vent
Level 3: Error: Partial Vent
Level 4: Complete
Level 5: Complete
Level 6: Disabling
Level 7: Venting
Level 8: Venting
Level 9: Venting
Level 10: Venting
Lockdown: Complete"

Then you can hear panicking guardsmen from the aforementioned levels, some praying, others consoling but most just asking what the feth is going on. Strangely, you also hear the occasional laugh.

[meltodowno]

Stryx observed the shot, nodding in satisfaction at the excellent placement of the shot. She was good this one, surprisingly so.

"There may be hope for you yet." he tilted his head for a moment in contemplation "You are under my protection until you leave my sight. Do not get in my way."

He turned his head towards the rest of the fleeing rabble with a mechanical whir, before his gaze rested on Shandra and the Sargent. He addressed Shandra more than the officer though.

"Clean deaths can be arranged for those that wish it." his voice was cold and clear of emotion, the robotic tinge only adding to the feeling of disconnection.

[Cognomeng]

Ved climbs up from his belly and jogs to the voice that confirmed Omega, ordering his Servo-Skull to join him. He ungently and hurriedly attempts an interface with it, committing at least 16 tech-heresies by failing to observe the proper rites. "If you can't turn him immediately, get him to tell me what I need to stop! And Tech, try and access whatever Omega is through one of the Cogitators." He then switches to Binary, trying to communicate with the construct in front of him.


So Tech-Use tests, and Security
I'm going to assume having the Servo-Skull help counts as an assist for the Tech-Uses.
First Tech-Use, to gain access and scan the thing for references to Omega and its processes [roll0] TN 75 +2 DoS
Security to gain full access [roll1] TN 55+2 DoS
Second Tech-Use to make it stop, if it cannot be discerned WHAT it is, I'll settle for shutting down ALL processes this thing has access to. [roll2] TN 75+2 DoS


IDENTIFY. STATE PURPOSE. STATE SHUTDOWN PROCEDURE FOR PROCESS IDENTIFIER OMEGA. AUTHORIZATION COMMISSAR BORIS MARKUS IVENKO.
OOC: I managed to get his access stuff before, so I probably still have some idea of what it was due to TOTAL RECALL and Good Cerebral Implants.

[jolinaxas]

"Indeed. As I said, you'll die on your terms. If after we're out of here, you still wish to join your 'Emperor', I will even hand you this..."

She knelt down, with the Astartes now available to put the soldier down if he were being treacherous himself, and leaned back to pick up the laspistol.

"... and you may go as you see fit - I'll even provide the 'view' you mentioned."

Shandra raised the laspistol, and for a second it looked like she was going to but the barrel to his head, but she pointed it past him and brushed his cheek with several of the tines.

"But I think you'll find there are benefits much more attractive than a clean death among us. Now, what have you called in, and how can we extricate ourselves from it?"


Charm with the tines. TN 86
[roll0]

If he lives , I may Minion-ize this guy, just for kicks.

[Jyssika]

Tech looks around for any indication of their current Level.
Attempting to get an understanding of what current stage of
Omega they are in. Presuming its impossible to simply issue
an order to it to be stopped he considers other methods of
putting a halt to it.

He will attempt to force a diagnostic, if that doesn't work he
will attempt to send a return signal indicating that the
"Gas Streams Unopperational."

1d100 Tech Use Int 46+20, +another 10 if MIU counts. +2 Successes if pass to: Attempting to force a diagnostic
1d100 Security Int 46 if pass to: Send false report "Gas Streams Unoperational." (Only do if above fails.)

I already have access to the Omega terminal!
I am attempting to stall it with conflicting orders

What #Redacted# level is this?!

[ArcturusV]

There were times when my former life was forgotten. That I had totally blanked upon the fact that men such as this were once my charge, sword to give my life, and shed the lives of many, many others in order to safeguard. Where I might have stood in front of them to take a shot from some Eldar's Shuriken Catapult, or roared in defiance of the WAAAGH!!! as my bolt pistol barked out against the oncoming green tide.

For a moment, this was one of those times, as my power armored foot came up, slamming square between one guardsman's legs so hard the pitiful creature went airborne, ripped to shreds through a window, streams of blood everywhere as his high pitched squeal was silenced and a true work of beauty sailed through the air to the ground far below.

The cowards wouldn't strike back. I knew it. Their own fear was as fearsome a jailer as anything that stalked this wall. I watched them cower, even as I ripped off my helm, so that they could look me in the eyes. It was not the terrible, twisted, mutated visage they likely expected. An old service stud, marking one century of loyal battle to the Imperium was over my left brow. My skin pale and smooth otherwise. Black hair cut to about a 3 inch length, with only a slight curl near the end, piercing green eyes that stared at them, and a row of pearly white teeth giving them a sadistic smile. I felt the bile rise within me, and soon I spat out my acid at another Guardsman, watching him claw at his face, rolling around in pain and fear as the liquid dissolved his skin and bones.

I felt Arkan approaching from behind me, and with a nod, I gave him the signal. The Minion raising up his stub rifle, using the bayonet as a spear to impale a third guardsman I had cornered, twisting hard and leaning his weight into it, leaving the guardsman with a painful, but hardly fatal, wound. The serf just lacked the strength to really pierce the flak armor and deliver a truly lethal blow. Still I smiled at him, and encouraged with a soft, "Good..." as if seeing the guardsman clutching his wound, alive but in pain, was entirely what I had desired.

"You have heard the offer," he waved his hand in Stryx's general direction, "God-Emperor, War Given Form... it does not matter. Both expect you to kill, to kill and keep killing until the day you finally are bested, and your blood shed in the name of War." I had heard something about the Sergeant of this bunch calling for a security cordon around the building along with the lockdown, and an idea was percolating in my mind, "But you do not care about that, do you? You only care about living. Feeling the weak fluttering Fear deep inside you telling you to look for a way out."

"Then do what you were meant to do you whelps! Grab your lasgun, look out from this tower. Purge those outside this building. Send them death!" The steel in my voice was there, matched by a stern authority in my eyes as I looked over the guardsmen. Sure I had just killed a few, then again they're Guardsman, they should be used to following the orders from those who had just killed several of them. "Keep killing and screaming your litanies of death!"

I stood up tall, and leveled an imperious gaze upon them. My blade pointed to the windows and their firing positions. "Burn! Maim! Kill!"

Totally hijacking them with a Command Test. Air of Authority means I can command-jack up to 40 of these guys if there are even that many remaining.

Command Test: [roll0] vs 49 Fellowship, +0 Command Training. Unknown Mood Modifiers for Command, I'd think -10 for "Resentful". Baseline Mark of 49 before conditional modifiers you wish to assign. Feel free to hand out conditional modifiers for my random speech or something. :smallbiggrin: not all tests should be +0.

[Malthan]

Tech sees that the observation post, their current location, is directly above the 10th floor. To your relief, you realize that the observatory is not in fact connected to the Omega system in any way, except for the elevator system.

Use in case of prison abandonment.
Distribute "Cloud 6" amongst cells.
Lockdown all non-lethal exits.
Open exits upon maturation of Final Fever.

Current Status: Imminent Completion.


None.

The guardsmen whimper and clamour, at least one of them flies off the edge in response to your threats. Only a dozen or so of them remain, staring at each other and mewling.

"We want to live ... get us out of here my lord and we'll do anything. Throne, please get us out of here..."

One of them asks, clutching his rifle desperately shuffling to their collective firing positions. The cowards are concerned primarily with self-preservation if they have yet to kill themselves and are unwilling to act so brazenly unless their lives are protected and promised.


She appeared awed by the swift turn of events.

"Gratitude my lord. Private Karen, I-"

But you'd already turned away.

"Get out?"

The sergeant smiled and shook his head at the notion of escape.

"There's only one way out now. Down. You abortions of the omnissiah might want to check out that lift you came up on. Might not like what you find."

He sucked in the sides of his mouth. All the discipline and dedication he’d once known seemed to have drained from his face. There was nothing left for him in this life except for this charade that would earn his men their final mercy.

“I could tell you what little I know. But I’ve only been stationed in this cess pit for a few weeks. It’d be better if I just showed you.”

He limped wretchedly to one of the remaining cogitators that wasn’t riddled with bolter shells or charred by las fire. He remorsefully pushed one of his dead comrades to the ground so that he might sit in front of the man's terminal. Pressing a few buttons, the machine sparked to life. Squares and colours zoomed in on the screen, until distorted pict-cams flickered to life.

"Surveillance systems for the whole complex, over-viewing all ten levels that are currently below this observatory. From here we can see the thousands of perverts, wife-beaters, rapists and the occasional murderer that makes up my the local population. Of course, once they get here they usually all end up murdering each other just to survive. Here's the the fifth floor. Notice anything?"

He asks, swiveling around to smile smugly. It's impossible not to notice it. They're free. In a sense.

http://i.gyazo.com/ceb37101fdabb2dddf84cd3fe2fa6b49.png

Dark shapes writhe and shuffle through some dark miasma, occasionally retching or bursting into hysterics. They look pure and human, though there's something feral and mad in their movements, erratic yet gracefully twisted. In mock imitation of men and women, these shadow things stalk through the prison corridors, descending on the less affected to bend them and defile them till they break, giggling as they divulge in the most decadent and disgusting acts of violation that one can conceive. Sometimes the supposed victim breaks into a fit of laughter as it happens, their mouths hanging open and screaming words that you can only make out having learnt to despise and mock those who utter it:

For the Emperor!

"You know what Penal legions are famed for, right? Something that we could have dearly used just a few minutes ago. Frenzon. It's a drug, ramps up your aggression, your fanaticism, your strength, your fearlessness. It makes you into a monster but the right kind of monster. One that praises the Emperor. Well Licentia's got our own little Frenzon compound. Except we made it in gas form."

"And we made it cruel."

Karen interjected. Her eyes were glued to the screens displayed before her, wide and all seeing. The convicted things crawling across the screen didn't eat the dead, they ate the living. Consuming, gnwing and ripping they maul one another with loving delight sprawled across their bloody fingers. It's debased torture, not mere aggression. Mad and murderous, they prowl and slobber and crawl, never still and always twitching, always moaning or shouting or mouthing something to themselves. They seem faster, stronger, deadlier than the weak mortal frames should suggest.

The sergeant nodded and gave the girl a strange, sad smile. The screen shifted to show the higher floors, where the prisoners are trapped against power fields, gas flooding through vents and into their lungs. The telltale signs are already there, as some of the shapes contort and twisted shadows in the smoke begin to laugh manically.

"Cloud 6, we call it. And the phenomenon's known as final fever. It's built on Frenzon but simplistic rage is more of an incubation stage. This primitive barbarity only becomes more sophisticated as it matures. They can even be given orders. Kill this, go there, that sort of thing. And only if you promise them more Cloud dust. Some can even learn to hide it. But the effects are all but permanent on the weak minded. Its the dirty little secret behind half the fanatics we employ against your kind. I don't know where we got it from, but I'd only heard rumours about it a couple of years ago. But now, none of the guard can wait to inflict this madness on our own, just so we'll stand a chance against you. I hope you monsters wipe each other out."

He finished, staring at the dead men sprawled around him.

[Jyssika]

Tech knew what the Guard Sergeant was going to show
before he even turned on the console, part of him wanted
to shoot him before he could gloat but perhaps he would
impart an extra ounce of knowledge Tech had not yet
learned from his own findings.

He didn't ofcourse...

++The doors will be opened once the Final Feaver has
taken all of the creatures below.++

He sighs

++We do not have long... I believe we can be sure that
the mut-... Gareth probably did not survive intact.++

Tech moves the sergeant from the cogitator and begins his own
search; plugging in his MIU before he begins attempting to use the CCTV
cameras to find the nearest door that will be opened between them and
the Zombies below and also searching for the nearest exit/entrance to
the command tower which they are attempting to get to in the first place.

[roll0] Tech Use Int 46+20, +10 for MIU. +2 Successes if pass to: Using the Cogitator.
Five Successes.

[Cognomeng]

Ved pivots around and stalks towards the Sergeant, talking very rapidly, and with a glint in his eye that can best be described as profoundly disturbing. "Are there reserves of this gas? Where were the distribution systems placed? Who developed it? Where was it developed? Tell me EVERYTHING!" His head then pivots to face his Servo-Skull and he lets out a bleat of Binary before pivoting back to the Sergeant. "TALK."

Begin downloading all available Data from intact cogitators. Record surveillance footage. If memory insufficient locate a suitable storage medium amongst the damaged cogitators and download to that.

[ArcturusV]

"We have our ways," I assured them with a certainty of tone and stance. "The same way we appeared inside your perimeter, will be our way out. But all boons demand sacrifice and offerings. If you want a way out, you will need to appease the Powers That Be," I avoided using the name of the Ruinous Powers, or the monkier of 'the dark gods' knowing that it would be easier for them to fall into the ideas of Darkness if they could maintain at least that mental delusion of not having to utter their names.

"Boons demand death. Strike down the reinforcements surrounding this place. Know each one you kill, will help guarantee your escape from this place."

Arkan nodded, well familiar with the ideas of Boons and Sacrifice, a mere mortal showing that what the Space Marine says is true, having benefited from such things previously, though not speaking up verbally.

I wondered idly if the Witchbreed below, recognizing what was happening as he seemed to be in his riddling talk, would be smart enough to yoink them once more to his side. Perhaps using the bloodshed and frenzy of the drugged up violence on these levels to fuel his ritual. If so he might very well not be made a liar to these guardsmen. At the very least, if Tech and the Small Copy were going to find a way past the trap, having the cordon of guardsmen around the place thinned out would help guarantee their escape.

[Malthan]

The guardsmen look at each other uncertainly until one of them boldly moves forwards to his perch saying

"Feth this."

And firing downwards with some confidence. The others joined him nervously, firing off a shot with some trepidation. You get the feeling that at least some of them are holding back at the least and simply firing for show from some others.

[roll0] vs 35 BS, + 10 Single Shot, + 10 Red Dot TN=55

Tech unfortunately discovers that full maturation of the Final Fever takes over 12 hours.

He discovers that the twin spiral staircases are completely pedestrian, lacking any functioning technology beyond sturdy doors. Therefore they are accessible to both yourselves and the creatures below. The Observatory does have the means to bar them however, providing a primitive defence against primitive attackers.

In addition, command centre can be accessed primarily by leaving through the ground floor. It can also be accessed by sluice sewage tunnels as well, which are located below the ground floor.

"Throne you're an annoying one. The Imperium always has reserves. Even of bloody gas bombs. The Omega Device went off and was distributed through vents and deposited directly into the cells. We use such a system for sedatives as well but Cloud 6 has been sent out to complexes on the front lines. Kind of a scorched earth policy. There are reserves but we keep that in the central distribution area. That's on the fifth floor, right in the middle of the entire congregation. An emergency batch, next to the primary Omega Device. But trust me, you don't want to go there. It was designed for a last resort, if the omega device failed and a secondary detonation had to be diffused in a more direct and primitive manner. It's not intended for someone to go there after the Omega Device has detonated. D'you have any idea how many thousands we lock up in here? Even unarmed, they'll drown you in corpses. And that gas might just work on you, clanker."

The sergeant growled, clearly growing weary of the exercise.

"And hell if I know who designed it or where. I'll wager it was that Arch-Magos fiend, using whatever archo-crap they've got locked away in the vault."

He looked over at the guardsmen to the window, shaking his head.

"It would be best if you just killed us all now. Save us the trouble.

[ArcturusV]

I strode over to the windows, my armor clomping loudly as I approached to oversee the marksmanship and zeal of the Guardsmen. Blade at the ready, I didn't cower for cover from whatever scattered defensive fire might be coming from below, but I pointed down towards on unit with my blade. "Steady, take aim, on my mark open fire, I want to see them lit up bright or so help you all I will use you as ammunition!" Which probably would remind a few of the man he kicked in the nuts so hard he went flying out of the building, which of course I intended.

With a smile, I quoted something that they would be familiar with, something I had heard the bearers of Fancy Imperial Hats say several times, "If you will not serve in combat, you will serve on the firing line," with cold, emotionless malice behind those words.

Arkan remained my shadow, weapon ready, though his eyes were not on the guardsmen outside, but on the guardsman in the tower with us. Even as miserable a wretch as he seemed to be he had proved moments ago that he could fire a gun straight, and a stub rifle was still a dangerous weapon in the hands of someone who knew how to use it.

Using the "Inspire!" action from Command, a Command Test to give them all a free +10 to BS for shooting people in the face.

Command: [roll0] vs 49 Fellowship, +0 Command Training, Unknown Conditional Modifiers for their general mood/willingness to be commanded. Baseline mark of 49 before conditional modifiers.

[Revanus]

Alpharius merely shakes his head.

"This outcome was predictable. Expected. Next time, rather than squandering time and the element of surprise upon a meaningless conquest, pay greater head to my perspective."

He switches over to Vox.

<Tech--pull maps and schematics of the sewers below, as well as the access point from this building. If Gareth is useless, we will need to pathfind for ourselves. If you can continue to pull data while on the move, do so--schematics of the command bunker would also be of use.

Main priority is restoring access to the lift. If access cannot be restored, we will use the lift shaft as our exit--if possible, discover whether the frenzon is venting in the shaft, and analyze the structure to see if the lift cables will bear our weight or if we will have to scale between floor exits.>

He next turns to Hector.

<You--whose dictates of battle require updating. We do not require a rabble to nip at our heels and snap at our scraps. We also do not need witnesses to our exit, or a platoon to send echoes through the sewers below. Dispatch the remainder, and then bring your power sword to the lift. If access cannot be restored, we need to cut an access hatch out of the lift. We will then climb down the shaft. My stummer will mask our descent.>

He turns to Stryx.

<If you wish to preserve one or two of these prisoners for your benefit, that is acceptable.>

[meltodowno]

Stryx considered the sargents words, and then laughed in a deep and booming tone.

"You fool. Are you so shortsighted? This gas, it makes people lose inhibitions, revel in slaughter, and consume the flesh of the living?" He laughed again "Sargent, you must realise? You really don't. do you? You have just activated a true sacrifice that will assuredly bring the Gods attentions to us. You have been working for us all along and you are too stupid to even realise! Magnificent. Truly magnificent."

He turned his attention back to Karen again.

"Meat. Grab as many grenades as you can carry from the fallen, and check for rebreathers in case we have to fight our way down. You are free to make your own way should you choose, but know that as of now the only thing awaiting you in the Imperial lines is a bullet to the head. We, however, would value your intel.... once we get out of here."

His voice replied to Alpharius over the vox

++ Just this one. The rest can burn. Recommend putting a grenade in the Sargents mouth and seeing if he can fly. He did request a pretty view as he died, and the war is such a beautiful sight. ++

[Jyssika]

This outcome is groundbreaking, a weapon that can neutralize... No... Convert all non-Astartes forces against their warmasters is devestating. Discovering this may be the largest tactical knowledge of this campajign!

He rounds on the sergeant, frankly tired of his insolence. He reaches out with the servo arm taking his feet from under him and dangling him upside down like a child. He would crush every bone in his body until he learnt fear.

++I have already got cctv of the whole tower and done my best to construct a route to the nearest exit... I will instill some fear in this whelp++

He tightens the servo arm on his shins and they creak and groan as they slowly shatter and grin to pulp. Dropping him he picks him up again, this time by the knees.

I need your assistance with the lift heretek

[Cognomeng]

"Yes I am coming, this one has no scientific knowledge. If I may make a request however? If time permits, can you Astartes move a floor down and destroy the Comm center? I will send my Servo-Skull to scout ahead if you acquiesce." As Ved walks over to the lift, he gathers a pair of Micro-Beads and inserts on into his ear. As he nears the lift the chittering of binary can be heard.


It is good you agree on the value of this new weapon. If we can acquire a sample a deliver it to the Crusade's biologis Hereteks, we will undoubtedly earn great favor and possible reward. At the very least I intend to have my Servo-Skull take as many readings as possible with its auspex. What Vox channel and encryption mode were we utillizing?

[Malthan]

Karen's face lights up in recognition as you mention what to obtain.

"We don't have no grenades but a few of the eggheads did make some improvised gas masks once they heard about the Omega Device."

Lowering herself and reaching under the terminals she gathered four shoddy poor quality gas masks.

"There ain't enough..."

"Aye, I'm sure you'd get along splendidly with the creeps."

The sergeant says darkly to Stryx,

"In fact, you're made for each other. Just don't expect them to share your views. They love their emperor, even if they hate mankind. It's all they ever fething talk about once the fever's in them. Maybe it's residue of all the years we've kept them locked up with indoctrination chambers, force feeding them a steady diet of religious fury. It sets in after a time, I think."

There's a sad look in his eye as he glances at Shandra, wondering if she's at all affected by the same practices or the horrors inflicted on the prisoners in this facility.

"As for use against heretical elements, I heard that a few mad generals did activate it in the presence of enemy elements. The results were not pretty I'm sure."

Turning around, he clutches his dog tag and rips it off emphatically.

"Well now you know just what you're in for. You don't need me anymore so come on you f-"

He's interrupted by Tech's cyborg appendage reaching around to snap his knees, dismantling what's left of the man's knee in an explosion of viscera. Predictably, he screams.


Most of them continue to fire unenthusiastically, their guns leveled and cracking through their perch.

One of the sweating marksman closest to Hector however whispers something, then fumbles with his gun and points it in the direction of some distant comrade.

He swallows deeply and then turns to point his rifle at Hector, prompting Arkan to swivel, mouthbreathing as he threatens the man with his stub weapon. The man chokes, realizing it's hopeless,

"I always wanted to see a real space marine..."

He says, and you notice a red blinking light on his chest. A transmitter or communicator of some kind, you realize too late.


The man's screams are quickly followed by the careening shriek of mortar fire, which brushes past the building entirely. The guardsmen present instinctively scurry from their firing perch, the presumed target, although at least one of them just smiles before turning his gun from Hector onto himself and eating the trigger.

[jolinaxas]

Finally adjusting one of the micro-beads lying around to the warband's frequency, Shandra looked crossly at Tech as he grabbed the sergeant and started subvocalizing.

+Would you mind telling me use that had? I know some of the insides of this place, but he may have proven himself useful once we're on the outside. We are in enemy territory after all.+


Would you please consider that I wanted to attempt to Minion-ize the Sergeant and retcon back to before you snapped his legs in half? Just asking for some common courtesy, here.

[Jyssika]

Tech grants the newcomers access to the vox net.

++I have claimed him, I will kill him slowly, you insult us all allowing him to fearlessly insult our dark gods with his bravado... but I shall teach him agony++

He strolls across to the elevator, still carrying the sergeant in his servo arm, and begins attempting to restore power.

[roll0] security 46 -20?

[meltodowno]

Stryx nodded to Karen, he hadn't expected such levels of usefulness immediately. He was used to guardsmen been sniveling wretches, at best useless and at worst contemptible.

"Well done, meat. Keep one. Distribute the others to my comrades."

He started giving the corpses a quick once over himself, looking for something to take as a trophy.


Looking for a best quality Chrono, Overall modifier 0, will settle for lower quality ones if only they are available (if so, adjust TN appropriately)
[roll0] TN 26 (36 if only good available, 46, common, etc)

Come on, Stryx need a rolex.

[ArcturusV]

Mortar Fire, people cracking under the pressure, choosing to take their own lives. Blood and death, and an incinerated brain. Life in the battlefield as I knew it.

The one thing I didn't know, was what that flashing machine spirit was for. It could have been anything from a targeter spirit, calling in the ordinance fire, to a relay that was carrying my words to the others outside. Not that the latter mattered much, nothing had been disclosed beyond the crude warnings that there was chaos here, and that the guardsmen had chosen to succumb to Insanity rather than keep the faith in their God. That was already blatantly obvious. The only danger was that it was something that could call in the artillery accurately to this location. And without a second thought or hesitation about it, I reached my ceramite covered hands down around his ankle, spun around, and hammer tossed him off the tower, aiming towards the groupings of men that my conscripted Squad was firing at.

Yes I am totally going to try to chuck the crap out of a guardsman into his buddies. Plus side if it IS a homing beacon for artillery fire... good luck shelling your own positions.

BS to Chuck the Guardsman Accurately: [roll0] vs 49 BS, normally improvised Thrown Object rules makes it a +0 Test regardless. Throwing range is 9m (9 SB), and it gets a multiplier for every DoS (e.g.: 3 DoS would be 36m).

Damage on Chuck the Guardsman: [roll1] +9 SB, Plus 1 damage for every DoS past the first, Pen 0 Impact Damage.

Feel free to rule gravity and such as you wish, I imagine anyone getting hit by a body that fell some 10 stories onto their head would probably die horribly anyway.

I pointed to the discarded Flak Helmet that had rolled off the man when he lasgunned his own brains out, a little scorched perhaps, but none the worse for wear, "Put it on," I told Arkan, he wasn't important enough to rate going helmetless into open warfare, only higher ranking marines and champions had that privilege! How else would the enemy know who was the expendable one to shoot at first if he didn't have a Helmet?

Seeing Arkan dust off the helm, adjust the fitting, and put it on, I looked over the rest of my squad. I could hear the Alpha Legion yapping on my Vox Link, but ignored it for the time being as the yapping of a fearful, frightened whelp of a dog, losing his courage over the slightest setback and upset we did not all kneel before his infamous legion badge.

"Who here wants to be a hero?" I asked the cowering guardsmen, with a soft and soothing tone along with a cold smile. I nodded towards the window, reminding them what the fate of 'heroes' were, and the fact that I wasn't executing everyone until they had proven themselves fools, or disposing of their martyred corpses in a flashy fashion, so it would not give them any steel.

"You've already missed the opportunity to be one. You have surrendered. You have fired on your fellow Guardsmen and defenders of your Imperium. Hold no illusions. Whether you wish it or not..." I smiled and leaned in a bit, using my bulk to loom over them like some dark daemonic figure, "... you are all Heretics, beyond redemption, cast out from your Emperor's light. There is no return, there is no absolution. Your only choices are to continue to live... or to die shunned by all, suffering an eternal torment for your failures and betrayal."

I eased back, letting my face look more kindly for the moment, "If you want to live, you will have to escape from here. You will have to sever all ties with those brothers you have betrayed. Remove your communicators, remove your cognomens, toss it all off this tower and keep only the weapons of War. Know that you cannot live, unless they all die out there. Even when we escape this tower, if they are alive, they will cut you down like dogs with no remorse, only praising their Emperor that they have killed a Heretic."

"So fight like your lives depend on it. Because they do. Leave the rest to my warband, and busy yourself only with the business of Death and Life."

I snapped on my helmet again, sealing it, and finally in private responded to the Alpha Legion, "... funny... I thought your ilk understood the value of sacrificial pawns and cultists..." leaving it at that, so that he might wonder if I ever intended to rescue these guardsmen or not.

He took a single step towards the Alpha Legion, and added as a finality, "Do not presume to order me around in your cowardice."

His head turned slightly, "Tech," he added, the cold, harsh tone with the Alpha Legionnaire forgotten and a more respectful tone given to the Iron Warrior, "Have you managed to secure the Imperial Communications within this place? They have contact with the regiments outside, and any edge against them could be... lovely. Perhaps pass it on to Small Copy," he nodded towards the other with a servo arm, "With his Commissariat clearance codes, and Imperial Communications gear and ciphers, I imagine there's a lot of havoc he could inflict..."

[Malthan]

Ved and Tech's work is hard, no question about that. This is not some simple subversion or trickery like before, this is an entirely new level of ardour. The machine spirit resists you at every step, screaming in binary much like the wounded sergeant that Tech is still clinging onto. It clings to the man's final orders, resisting and shrugging off your attempts to bind it to your will. Ved's tampering with the source code is met with regenerating firewalls that constantly restore authority to the Omega failsafes, his commissar passcodes netting him no more success than before.

Meanwhile Tech Niet's simultaneous attempt to override it's power to more forcefully subjugate it proves equally futile. While his tendrils convert and overlap wires, the elevator's cabling proves frustratingly resilient to attempts to bypass the physical security lockdown.

You both sense that the machine threatens to utterly shut you out, to completely reject all foreign influences. You have perhaps one more attempt to both bypass the Omega lockdown and force past its security systems in order to create

"You're so utterly fethed you big grey bastard..."

The sergeant wheezes at the Iron Warrior, smiling despite the pain. This is his revenge, his punishment on gods and galaxy alike.


Private Karen does not smile at Stryx' compliment, though it was clear that she was surprised at his relative civility. She offers both Ved and Shandra a mask, which fits awkwardly. Additionally, she goes to the marksman perch just in time to see Hector's own unique style of leadership.

http://i.gyazo.com/3ce11aaf64322dbb7215a63f83f189ff.png

The man is hurled through the air with more force than you could have hoped, his silhouette and blinking red dot descending rapidly into the gathering forces outside. The Penal legionnaires on the outside scatter as they hear his screams grow ever louder, some shouting a warning as a single brave commissar rages at his men to stand their ground in the line of duty. Drawing his bolt pistol in order to reinforce his point, he is interrupted mid-rant by the weighty impact of a flak armored slave, crushing the life out of him.

His remaining men stare slack jawed at what they have seen, before moments later the telltale screech of mortar fire reaches them as well. Distant explosions and calls for recalibration can be vaguely heard through your augmented features.

The guardsmen now truly cowed, go back to their spot casting aside their excess gear as you ordered, before aiming their lasrifles and picking off the scampering squad that is currently weathering friendly fire. Some of them call out that the bombardment is ceasing however and that more reinforcements than they can kill are swarming to the base of the complex.


Karen hands the destitute Arkan a mask sourly, clearly resentful of him. The serf arrogantly snatches it before resuming his military posturing.

Finally ending back next to Tech and the sergeant, she looks down at the injured figure sadly. She grips the respirator that Stryx had instructed to keep, though it's clear that she still feels an ounce of duty towards the crippled man.

"Sarge... just one left..."

She states flatly, concealing her emotions. The man shakes his head, either refusing to talk to one who has so fully thrown her lot in with heretics or biting back the terrible pain he is experiencing.

"We can still make it ... we don't have to die up here."

"We all got to die kid. It's just a question of making it count."

[meltodowno]

Stryx seemed happy to let her talk to her former Sargent, playing with his new Chrono as he did. He had an incling why the object appealed to him so much - since he was repaired, he himself was more machine than man. Whilst he had little time nor inclination to learn more than the basics of technology, the things fascinated him.

He observed the time and dropped the Chrono into a belt pouch.

"Meat." his attention had returned to Karen after brief respite "He sentenced you to death. Remember that."

Grabbing one of the nearby tables, he carried it towards the stairs door, starting to make a crude blockade.

++ Marines. Sound off if your suit is sealed. If not, I recommend preparing for a climb. ++

[Cognomeng]

"I will not give up on this machine spirit just yet. If I had the time I would rip it out of its home and store it for later repurposing. And your sergeant is correct, Karen, life, even the cessation of it, is about making it count. Your sergeant is all too overtly trying to talk you into doing something brave and foolish to try stop us. And you would be making the same foolish mistake your platoon did when you fired on us, to the same effect. A sacrifice that makes no real difference in the universe. And sergeant, while I have you stuck here, you can inform me of your role up here and a rundown of this facility. Are you simply the wardens of this prison? What were you meant to observe? How many guards did you damn when you activated the device? Who is Commissar Borris Markus Ivenko?"


While Ved talks to the grunts, he's working his ass off to break the security.
[roll0] TN 55(Assist+another Infamy point)

[Malthan]

Private Karen seemed to struggle to digest what you said, a troubled look coming over her face as your reasoning gave her pause. Walking back to Stryx, she put the respirator on as per her discussions. It seems that survival and sensibility have convinced what brute force could not.

"Wardens, guardsmen, soldiers. It's all the same. It was out job to keep them in and things like you out. Look how that turned out."

He gasped in pain as Tech's vice kept him pinned.

"But I stand by my decision. The sentinels still in the complex will continue to fight for the emperor, even if they do so as husk soldiers. You underestimate them, just as your vanguard assault on the Command Centre underestimated them."

Something akin to a grin spread across his face.

"As for the commissar? Tell me, did you not even know him when you killed him in order to steal his pass-clearance? A fine warrior and leader. His regiment were among the finest soldiers on this accursed planet. I am surprised you curs managed to finish what the Black Legion could not. Most men thought he was immortal after he survived that duel with an astartes."


The sergeant says sadly, watching your work with disinterest. Then the machine makes a strange spluttering noise, the machine spirit announcing its distaste for your touch by sparking and sending a coursing volt of electricity through you.

"Some great technician you are. Look I told you, it's hopeless, the place has gone into total loc-"

"New input. Acknowledged. Hereticus Imperative. Rescinding. Error: Inoperable. Power Locked. Error: Inoperable. Power Locked. Error..."

So I'm throwing Ved a bone and giving him a +10 modifier as part of an incursion for a logic/pride incursion.
Partially because you doubled down with your infamy and partially because you are playing up the logical/inquisitive renegade aspect quite well. Determined to overcome this thing etc.

Regardless, you've Walter White'd this thing into working but Tech has to overcome the more mechanical security clamps in order for it to be really restored. He's less likely to succeed and is likely to get an incursion considering his vices are less technical. So you're not out of the woods yet.

[meltodowno]

Stryx lowered his voice to talk to Private Karen.

"Wise choice, meat. Once we move out, stay close and keep up. We shall not wait for stragglers. You may call me Stryx. If you see a threat I do not, you shall hail me. The gods favor the bold, and if you are lucky they shall favor you too."

He turned his head slightly to look at her, and nodded to make sure she was listening.

"Now make sure you have everything you need. Grab yourself some more ammunition, I have a feeling there is much killing yet to be done."

[Cognomeng]

Ved walks over to Tech to assist him more directly. "Of course I did not know his name. I don't trade introductions with people I kill, I just kill them and move on. Too inefficient to go around getting everyone's life story. And that is another reason you Imperials fail, and some of the legions of Chaos. Too concerned with Human emotions, sentiments of honor and nobility. The Skitarii of the Mechanicus may be deluded fools serving even more deluded leaders, but they are infinitely more efficient than the mangy units fighting on this planet. Note to self, begin creating Skitarii equivalents as soon as possible." Ved eyes the sergeant, a hungry glint in his eye. "Yes, even in your mangled state you can still be of use. And an interesting specimen once exposed to this enhanced Frenzon. When we get a chance I'll make sure he doesn't bleed out Tech."

[Revanus]

Alpharius does not physically react to Hector's approach.

<I have waged this long war against the Emperor and his peons for millenia. My armor speaks to but a small portion of the skulls I have taken. Prudence is not cowardice.

Your ability to muster forces and loyalty is admirable and impressive. In this case, though, allowing the guardsmen to continue to live has directly led to mortar fire on our position--and an increasingly-limited timetable for us to exfiltrate and continue on our primary mission, as Imperial forces are aware of our presence and will likely bring greater force to bear on our location. Moreover, assaulting the tower has complicated our exit from the prison.

These are observations, not accusations. Ultimately, conflict between the two of us serves neither of our interests. Let us put it aside, cousin, and work towards common purpose.

If Tech and the Heretek cannot reactivate the lift, I think the next best course of action will be to carve an exit out of the lift floor. If you will lend your power weapon to the endeavor, I will contribute my chainsword.>

In response to the question regarding sealed armor, Alpharius responds.

<My armor is cobbled together over many millenia, and from victims of varied chapters and eras. The environmental sealing may be compromised, though my physiology will offer some resistance to the toxin.

For efficiency's sake, avoiding exposure would lead to greater likelihood of a successful mission.>

[Jyssika]

The Iron Warrior is cold, his servo arm undulating rhythmically in a slow and purposeful grinding of the sergeants body. He clamps down to maim before slightly loosening so as to allow the body to slip through his grip before clamping down once again. By the time he reaches the sergeants boots his knees to feet is just one soggy red sponge of bloody meaty material, flesh on occasion having literally been squeezed through gaping rips in the trousers to fall to the floor.

Tech does not worship a single dark God, nor does he particularly openly venerated them but on occasion it pays dividends to offer sacrifices to them. Like the legions of slaves the Iron Warriors walk under the feet of the traitor titans this sergeant would be a worthy offering.

Sick and tired of the sergeants bravado knowing that one of the few things keeping him from cracking and breaking was to sound of his own pathetic speeches and the arguments and even more pathetic retorts of the charismatic Heretek Tech decides to put and end to the sergeants last bastion of sanity.

Dangling his meaty body in front of him he clamps two power armoured gauntlets within his mouth stretching it wide like a vice before the mutated and vile third reaches in and with twitches of extacy plucks out his tongue. He wishes his throat was still intact so he could eat it and gain knowledge from his flesh, instead he is forced to toss it aside. Smiling he moves his hands away and the vile third carcasses his face with its bloody and sticky pallid flesh. It reaches into the ear drum with a jagged claw like nail pressing hard until a trickle of blood runs free. As to claw moves to the second tech leans in close and says a final message to the soon to be deaf guardsmen.

You will make a fine servator

Turning his back on the lump of deaf and mute flesh he finally acknowledges the group. His mood has risen and he is positively polite.

How may I assist your cause, heretek--
I am Tech Neit of the Iron Warriors how would you care to be addressed?

He shuffles over to the lift wary that the sergeants arms have not yet been disabled and in his current state of desperation is volatile. Before he begins attempting to defile the lift.

[roll0] Int 46 -20difficulty +10 Inc +10 assistance.

As you can see my expertise lay not in Security...
I already broke into the sergeants vox net, small copy can probably crack the Vox Unit for the rest of you to use. Or I could relay all messages you wish to send through my vox.

[ArcturusV]

I stared down at the gathering forces of the Imperial Guard. My number was minor, but they had the superior position in the high ground, and gear for long ranged firefights with their scopes. While they panicked, I stood still, and using my sword to gesture as I spoke. "You three, switch to automated burst fire. Spray your shots and keep them cowering and bunched up. Rest of you, careful aim, pick off Commissars first, Sergeants second, Specialists third." I was studying the layout of the land from my perch, leaving the concerns for escape to the others, knowing they were working on their own plans, and keeping the Imperial Guard busy and off their backs was going to help more than whatever paltry handwaving he might have done to appease reluctant Machine Spirits.

"Arkan, come," I had a plan to help buy us some time, and for the moment walking away from the Guardsmen, I went to the cogitator banks, punching up a simple incantation to draw forth the Building Layout. Oh I wasn't looking for Rage Zombies or hacking security, just a simple map that would be required for any basic security team detail so I knew what was what.

This was a prison, there should only be one entrance, helps keep the chances of people breaking out down after all. Pulling up the map, checking what side the entrance was on, double checking by looking out the tower to see where the Guardsmen were massing towards, I nodded. "Arkan, Krak Missile, there," I pointed to a precise spot, the edge of the building below us where the prison cell levels was fatter than the command tower. A spot that was above where the door was. "Take your time, aim properly, incantations to the Machine Spirits in order. Do not screw this up."

Meanwhile I pulled out my own, loaded my own Krak Missile, and calling out to the guardsmen I had been drilling earlier, "Keep them pinned down, things are under control." I was sighting down, not towards the spot I had pointed out for Arkan, but to a smaller tower in the battle zone, one in the general direction that guardsmen reinforcements seemed to be coming from.

"Tech, Small Copy, would you mind lending your expertise to target identification for me?" Hector asked as he aimed down.

He's going to try to Krak Missile the crap out of the corner of the building above the door. Two fold reason to accomplish this, one, a giant gaping hole all the Frenzy gas can vent out of. Two, to drop the rubble over the entrance to the building, keeping the Imperial Guard from being able to force an entrance without breaking out the heavy siege gear.

Attack Roll: [roll0] vs 27 BS, +10 Standard Shot, +20 because he's going to Full Action Aim, +10 for Short Range, and considering the relative size of the "Target" area he needs to hit to cause the desired effect you're probably considering a chunk the size of a Chimera, which is Size Class 6 in the rules for +20. Final Mark of 87.

Krak Damage (If you want to use it to determine how effective the missile was at the job): [roll1] +8, Pen 8. Has Concussive (3) (Not likely to have an effect), and Proven (2) (All rolls of 1 are counted as 2s instead), Explosive Damage.

He's going to try to Krak Missile to demolish an outpost, taking out on of its main foundation supports so it topples over... hopefully onto part of the invading guardsman unit. At the very least so that it slows down any reinforcements running for the Prison Complex that we're in.

Attack Roll: [roll]1d100[/roll= vs 49 BS, +10 Standard Shot, +20 because he's going to Full Action Aim on something that critical. Likely +0 for more than 150m but less than 601m, Target Area (A support Column) you're probably talking about it being Size (Hulking) for +10. Final Mark of 89.

Krak Damage (If you want to use it to determine how effective the missile was at the job): [roll2] +8, Pen 8. Has Concussive (3) (not likely to have an effect), and Proven (2) (All rolls of 1 are counted as 2s instead), Explosive Damage.

If Tech and Ved agree, I want to use their Expertise in Tech-Use's Demolition Skill Use to help me identify the weak point to hit for massive damage and accomplish my goals. Because... why wouldn't I?

[Malthan]

Tech's over-aggressive style ravages the security systems, leaving them totally inoperable. There is now no hope of using the elevator as you had planned. The only options that now remain for you are to improvise your escape.

However, his torturing of the sergeant sparks a muted gasp from Karen, who rushes to his side.

"My lord please! Let me put him out of his misery, and I will show you his secret pride..."

She leads you to his locker, where a compact missile launcher lies partially assembled. It takes little effort for you to properly adjust it.

Then she draws a small combat knife and requests that she be allowed to finish off her sergeant rather than have him suffer further indignities.

The missile blazes beautifully into their intended targets, Arkan's shot demolishing a section of the Complex, leaving rubble and a deep violet gas to drift into the depths below. By comparison Hector's strike sailed through the smog filled air to explode violently against the points identified through Tech's analysis, scattering corpses and steel to the wind. The construct veered as steel bristled and melted, before finally the hastily-built construct collapsed downwards into a nearby trench where the enemy had been streaming through. Enemy reinforcements are now likely delayed.

Your men fare less well.

As a unit, the now traitor guardsmen began to crack off valleys into the midst of their attackers. Their improved morale obviously counts for little, as their shots narrowly miss the scattering remnants of the dead commissar's unit. Occasional curses and muttered excuses escape their lips, some awkwardly attempting to substitute god-emperor for gods eternal. Such invocations do little to aid their aim.

The three designated burst firers fare even worse, spraying and suffering their gun's increased rate of fire to a terrible extent. One of them has clearly lost his nerve, sweating and dropping his rifle off the side of the building as he so errs with his attempts to keep the gun steady. You begin to suspect these "soldiers" have been more than shaken by their experiences and have lost their collective ability to aim.

Meanwhile the enemy attempts to return fire are only slightly more successful. One of your burst-firers, who was perhaps overzealous in his attempts to strike the enemy, feels the enemy horde's collective fire pummel through the cover of his perch and riddle his left leg, though as he falls the consecutive lasfire proceeds to char his chest till he drops still. The rest of the enemy infantry fail to do anything but burn the Observatory walls black.

While one mortar again misses horribly, veering to one side and past the building, another one misses the traitor guarsmen slightly but instead pounds to the left of the building, near the lift and staircases. This rattles and smashes through the rockrete wall, spraying dust but little else over Tech, Ved and the sergeant. It appears the mortar shot was not so devastating to anything except the wall and the closest staircase.

The primitvely secured door was blown off its hinges, not so much rent aside as a few screws were blasted open, allowing the thing's own weight to drag it askew. In addition, Stryx's crude blockade was now knocked aside and you could now hear the vague rumbling of a dead chorus calling out for release.

[Cognomeng]

Ved lets out an angry burst of nonsensical binary, the equivalent of a curse. "The lift in its current state is inoperable, the security systems have made it immobile. I intend to modify it to bypass the security systems and get a slowed descent to the bottom floor. For now, try and destroy those damn mortars before they hit something or someone important, and make sure to watch the stairwells." Ved turns back towards the lift and starts selectively ripping parts of the control systems out, eventually leaving only a link to the brake systems and a wire connection to his dataslate where he programmed basic controls based on the percentage of total brake pressure applied.

[meltodowno]

Stryx took a battle stance near the stairwell.

"If you are going to do something smart, make it fast."

Power arced down the blades of his lightning claws as he prepared to face the oncoming tide.

[Jyssika]

Tech collects the missile launcher from the locker; the vile arm flinching as the combat knife is drawn.
"The lap dogs of the emperor may only shoot their followers for such arrogance but I am unwilling to grant this fool an easy death."

He walks across to the elevator, holding the sergeant in his servo arm whilst organizing his ever growing arsenal of weapons.

[jolinaxas]

Shandra, seeing an opportunity to gain favor with their new "convert", headed over to Karen and Tech when he forbid her from killing the sergeant.

"Well, I'm certainly willing enough."

She drew her laspistol and shot him.

[ArcturusV]

Guardsmen on the right, Rage Zombies on the left, and here I was stuck in the middle with you. The team of Tech and Small Copy seemed to be getting something accomplished, though with my focus on buying time and such I wasn't too aware of what was going on. I noticed Shauna executing someone, and gave a little nod of approval to it. Damned right, that was her prisoner, and her right to do so. Nevermind that she said she had been here before, it probably was personal for her. Such Exactly As Planned could only help us out in the end.

With the Gas venting out, and the zombies about to break in here, I knew that it was time to dangle a sparkly glimmer of hope for the Guardsmen, refocus them and remind them that yes, there might be a way out. The cruel, evil, insidious Hope that was the domain of Exactly As Planned, even though he also ruled Fate meaning there was no actual Hope, everything would proceed Exactly As Planned.

"Cease fire!" I barked out to the Guardsmen. I drew their attention, and pointed to the vent, "Simply ploy, but it works well against the ones infected with Rage," I explained calmly, trying to instill some of that hope into them and give them a chance to see an out. "Gas is venting, should be clear in a moment. Rubble blocks the main entrance, that will keep the Guard from getting in until they can bring in heavy equipment. Go climb down the side here to the roof," it couldn't have been that far of a drop, and with some cabling or the like to use as a rope among the wreckage of the command center, probably doable for them. "Wait until you hear the dregs of the prison break in, and you sneak right past behind them through the hole. Hit the stairs fast. Go to the second level, 5th cell, west wing. There has been a fresh exit excavated there, short drop, you'll make it. Once you're outside, run like hell because your only hope is to find the camps of my comrades."

I gave them a plan. A risky plan, since it involved two climbs and a good chance to twist your ankle. But one that should SOUND reasonable. Frenzied mooks tended to charge the nearest enemy as they knew it. They only knew that people remained in the Tower and were trying to batter down. If they ducked into the top prison level behind the mooks, it should be clear.

I neglected to mention the 'hole' was small enough that they likely wouldn't fit in without probably slathering themselves with bacon grease and stripped out of their armor, I don't remember Tech's hole being that big. Or the fact that it was on Level 1, not Level 2, up to them if they could figure out that I meant the second floor, not level 2. But it was hope. And maybe they'd surprise him and live. Or maybe they'll die an ignoble death cowering in the corner of a cell when the Guardsmen finally broke through, or they failed this timing to slip past the rage horde.

"I'll be drawing the attention of your drug addled friends... NOW MOVE!" I snapped, getting them motivated to get into gear.

Walking back towards the Elevator, over the vox link I intoned, "Are we ready to clear out, or do I need to buy you more time?"

[Cognomeng]

"Damn, he was going to be a good specimen after we exposed him to the toxin. I would hope this toy breaking pattern stops soon with you two, it is incredibly wasteful and inefficient." Ved fiddles with the datapad for a few more seconds. "Well, who wants to take a ride on the MK I pattern descent platform? It's ready to go, and the more test specimens we get the better. And one of you minions grab me a lasgun and, lets say eight power packs. Oh and that medikit. And the lot of you don't forget to hold your breath as we descend. Servo-Skull, get over here." The skull lets out a affirmative burst of binary and hovers over from the cogitator it downloaded data from. Ved lets out a brief burst of binary.

Form a datalink with my cerebral implants and back that data up.

[Malthan]

The crack of rifles turns spurs a hiss of approval from Arkan, as he spies the telltale signs of an enemy casualty. With no further commissar's in sight following Hector's brutal improvised missle, the guardsmen as per your instructions had been twisting their marksmanship to take out the closest enemy sergeant.

A volley of shots from the ten men grouped by the window, whose "incentives" to fire to the best of their ability have restored them to an almost effective fighting force, result in the Imperial leader falling to the ground, clutching his charred leg. Through his lens, the last remaining burstfirer shoots off two well placed blasts into the man's chest, thumping through the man's carapace, punching the air from his body and would have knocked the man prone had he not the grit and constitution of a true warrior. Instead he rises defiantly and limps back to his men.

Before you can congratulate the marksman, a series of vengeful shots from the forces below lance upwards into the man's head, his eyes lighting up as they burst from the blaze, blinding him. Additional enemy shots rake into his body, threatening to spark up his ammo pack but the danger is narrowly averted as he instead simply slumps forwards off the building.

The mortar fire continues unabated but they are clearly lacking in proper training, perhaps still rattled from the friendly fire incident caused by Hector. One thumps weakly against the Complex, breaching the rockrete about two levels below you but doing little more. Another lands short, pounding ineffectually into the dirt.

They cease firing as Hector commands them, listening attentively to his plan. Some of them stare in disbelief, a few even begin to beg to stay at your side but ultimately they all acquiesce. The likelihood of their objections being heeded little to none after all.


The blind, dumb and deaf sergeant somehow seems to breathe thanks as Shandra finishes him off, the red hot shot gently slicing through his brain. He might not have died standing and seeing nothing at all, but it was almost certainly better than what Tech had been planning to do.

Karen watches dumbstruck, tears still streaming down her face from when Tech harshly spurned her attempts to finish the target. She mumbles her thanks to Shandra, before moving somberly to join Stryx. There is little chance that she will recover from this trauma easily.

Once she arrives, her grief is interrupted by the telltale thump of something hideous and angry bashing on the loose door.

You hear them before you see them.

"Smell faithless, smell the stench of heresy, delicious taint, must tear, must destroy..."

One bang becomes another and another, before the door is forced forwards, the madmen straining horribly to bring it down. A pallid, ghoulish face rears out over the metal, gulping and sniffing in a maddening manner. Prisoner stamps stud the thing's disfigured face, marking it out as a former convict in compliment to the dark blood splattered across its jaw and beard. There is little doubt that this mad fanatic is unlikely to be reasoned with.

"Godlings! Mighty meat cans, give us your traitor hearts, make meal out of monsters yes, strip the flesh, salt the wound, repent, repent!"

[ArcturusV]

"Fight, Kill, move, and we will meet again," I told the Guardsmen, almost assuredly a lie. But one that was delivered smoothly and confidently, giving them a final command and hope to latch onto as they scrambled out to effect their own escape.

"Arkan, to the lift, at the ready for close battle!" I ordered the man, as he scampered over to the lift, his gait embarrassingly slow. Quite a disgrace, but the fervor of his movements was easily seen.

I was making my way to the lift, and doing my job, continuing to buy time for everyone to finish up, and the guardsmen to start to effect their escape. My bolt pistol was leveled at the creatures at the doorway trying to push their way in, looking to stop their push for the moment, and give everyone time to escape.

Usin' my bolt pistol. I presume the Frenzy Rage Zombies are all in a Horde because, yeah. Makes sense. Half action move to the lift, half action Semi-Auto Burst into the horde with the bolt pistol. BLAM!

Attack Roll: [roll0] vs 49 BS, +0 Semi-Auto Burst, +30 Point Blank Range (Stairs are near the lift as I recall), +30 Horde Size (I'm presuming, if not bigger). Final mark: 109.

Explosive Damage gets +1 hit against Hordes, max hits are 3 with 5 DoS on the attack roll.

Take the highest D10, because Tearing.
Damage: [roll1] +9, Pen 4 Explosive Damage.
Damage: [roll2] +9, Pen 4 Explosive Damage.
Damage: [roll3] +9, Pen 4 Explosive Damage.
Damage: [roll4] +9, Pen 4 Explosive Damage.

[meltodowno]

"Meat." Stryx's voice was low "Get to the elevator. When we get there ... stay close."

Stryx backed off to the elevator, staying prepared to lash out at any of the prisoners that got too near.

Once he gets to the platform, he sets himself for harsh landing.

[Revanus]

Alpharius hasn't moved from initial his position on the elevator. Despite the continued banter, he has kept a watchful eye on the exits, as prudent.

The appearance of zombies is greeted almost immediately with a hail of heavy bolter shells.

<Is the lift operational?>

Attack:
[roll0] vs. 52+magnitude(42+10 half aim+10 short range -10 full auto + x horde)

[ArcturusV]

"Schnell macht schnell!" I barked out, slipping for a moment into the nearly forgotten tongue of my native world, so many centuries ago as I waited for the Techs to get the lift operational. I spared a glance over towards the windows, making sure the now Traitor Guardsmen were fleeing appropriately as I defiantly seemed to add my fire to the Alpha Legion Fire in holding off the vast hordes of the rage zombies for as long as possible.

They were likely dead. I likely sent them on a suicidal path... but if they did survive, it always served you well to make them think that you did everything possible for them. No one but the Nerd knew the tangled webs of Fate.

Adding one more round of Horde Mulching while the Techs work.

Attack Roll: [roll0] vs 49 BS, +10 for Short Range, +10 for Half Action Aim, +0 Semi Auto Double Tap, +30 Horde Size. Final Mark of 99.

Gets +1 Hit for Explosive Damage type, max hits of 3 (2 Shots, +1 Explosive) on 4 Degrees of Success. Take the best d10 for Damage due to Tearing.

Damage: [roll1] +9 Pen 4 Explosive.
Damage: [roll2] +9 Pen 4 Explosive.
Damage: [roll3] +9 Pen 4 Explosive.

[Cognomeng]

Ved lets out a laugh at Alpharius' question. "Who knows? Let's find out though." And with that he releases the brakes with the dataslate.


[roll0] TN 85+2 DoS

[jolinaxas]

Shandra made her way over to the lift with Arkan, moving so that he was between her and the shambling hordes and occasionally firing off a useless laspistol shot.

"That was surprisingly cavalier, given the situation. Still, I suppose that brake failure would have been a better and faster way to die than the alternative."

[ArcturusV]

"Faith," Arkan replied to her, "Marines never die," he offered a toothy grin behind his mask, which you could only really tell from the visible eyes. He let out a short little laugh. "Marines always win. Who Dares, Wins," said with simple eagerness.

For my part, I said nothing. Arkan's blind faith was to be encouraged, fear was the mind killer.

[Malthan]

The scrambling ghoul at the door barely manages a grin before its face is blown open by bolter fire. Torrents of traitor ammunition cuts through the righteous horde , with the two rival marines working in surprising unity to stem the tide of convicts. Their well-placed bolts put down at least a score of the creatures who flood to take the dead ones space, though the explosive power also prevents the gap from being closed up by corpses. Stumbling and sliding through the blood, the monsters slide and scamper through the remains of their comrades until the great door eventually collapses from sheer weight of numbers.

The guardsmen react with appropriate levels of terror and horror. One of them seems to snap upon hearing the repeated calls for repentance, walking forwards in a trance, openly accepting his doom. Grasping hands pull him gently into the hordes embrace, his muffled screams only barely audible over the coos and moans of the convict creatures.

Recoiling and commanding his compatriots, the guardsman who dropped his rifle gives one last look at Hector before beginning the steep climb down the building, using the natural grooves and power lines to slowly but gently descend. You hear at least one telling scream as they disappear from sight, much of the infected horde following them in a near suicidal rage.

Your group as a whole organizes itself quickly by comparison, the marines taking point at the front, almost nobly defending their less well armoured companions using their bulk.

Ved Rho feels his tendrils snake around the breaks, his servo-skull chirping data and information to his sources. The platform's machine spirit, weakened by the attempts to circumvent its lockdown, can barely resist as the heretek fully integrates himself into the sole function of slowing the fall. Then he brings down his power axe, severing the crude clamps keeping that are keeping platform in lockdown.

If the climb upwards was fast, this is something else. Careening down the shaft, barely restrained by Ved’s attempts to rein in the speed using only the breaks, the platform zooms past the horror filled levels. You see glimpses of obscene and gruesome acts, ones which you might have been more at place in a decadent temple to the god of pain and pleasure. But the chanting is always to the Emperor, always worshipping him as they ask scream their desire to stand amongst his sons and daughters. Crying out in a terrible harmony, the whole area seems to be awash in a cycle of sin and penance.

“Love the sinner, because he is you. Without the sinner, what need is there for a redeemer?”

Almost as quickly as it started, the machine slams to a halt. Ved visibly strains, his lenses blinking in the exertion until through sheer force of will the construct is utterly halted at the ground floor. The g-fore of the fall now suddenly rendered inert, he releases his control of the tortured machine, at last allowing it to fall into disuse.

At the very least, the speed, gas masks and improvised venting instigated by Hector seems to have successfully removed the threat of any of you succumbing to the same terrors. Looking around you, none of you appear to have been too overtly affected by your brief exposure to the gas, though Karen’s hyperventilating and wide eyes perhaps demands a more detailed examination...

Later. For now, in front of your very eyes lies yet another confrontation.

“Pleeeeassse, I did it only because I had to, told to! Colours making man voices, making me maim you, making me their puppet! I swear, I didn't mean it!"

A shrill voice cries out.

“You worm. You liar. You vile, disgusting cretin. I saved your life and you stab me in the back?”

“I had to, chaos must be strong, must be merciless! Must call on them…”

Stepping out of the elevator, you recognize two figures moving amongst the rubble of the ground floor. This entire area seems to reflect what you once saw when you first came out of the warp, with dead guardsmen and Blood Pact heretics adorning the ground. One of the silhouettes dwarfs the other, looming and advancing forwards with some sort of serrated blade drawn in one hand and a blood red knife in the other. His opponent, a familiar mutant, crawls backwards, whimpering.

“Making you bleed’s not enough. I’m going to make you scream…”

“Mmmnononono shhh no, they hear, the shackles will come, the chains will tear, do not do this Archimedes!”

“My name is not Archimedes! And I will have my revenge!”

The standing warrior lets out a mad roar that fills up the complex, bestial and savage yet almost beautiful in its grace, as if mere rage had transcended into something entirely more dangerous.

“Gah! My lords, save me!”

[ArcturusV]

I had gotten the lay of the land while up top. I knew the general layout of the Imperial Forces, and in particular what directions they were coming from, and thus where it was unlikely for friendly contingents to be. This had to be effectively No Man's Land, with the carnage of the Khornate Hordes and the Imperial Guard still deployed and in control. Despite what others might think, it was not a waste to go up there, and that was not even considering the trove of tactical data that Small Copy might have pulled from the Cogitator banks.

"He is right about one thing," I told the pair as I stepped off the lift, not really wanting to give the tortured machine spirit, or the enemies up the shaft a chance to hurl trouble at me. Arkan stepped off in order, maintaining his close guard, "Chaos cares about the strong and the skilled. And at this moment, I need a guide. The Witch has claimed to be one... buuuut if you would be a better guide, then we don't need him anymore." I walked closer to the two, slowly, and pointing my blade up at them, "So who is going to prove the most useful to me? Or would you rather put this aside until the Imperials are dealt with?"

[Cognomeng]

Ved lets out a vile, mechanicus epithet at a shout. "RUSTY BOLTS. I liked the name Archimedes." Ved lets out a sigh. "Well, at least I'll get my specimen of the special gas. Would one of you noble Astartes please beat the cultist formerly known as Archimedes to the brink of death? This holy frenzon is certainly potent, there is no other way he could be active given his previous wounds. I'll amputate or cripple his limbs and sew his mouth shut, shouldn't take long assuming he doesn't bleed to death. If that is somehow beneath you, just shoot him and I'll get blood and organ samples from his corpse" Ved unplugs his dataslate and is very careful to keep his distance from the cultist. "And it seems I may have been wrong about you psyker. I was relatively certain you were going to lead us the wrong way. It isn't a common occurrence either, perhaps my prejudices? Hrrm, this needs to be calculated."


Logic test to attempt to determine if he's being a pskist. Really just fluff.
[roll0] TN 75 +2 DoS let's say he'll think he was a racist against psykers if he fails.

[ArcturusV]

I holstered my bolt pistol, and taking a few quick steps forward, went to put my boot upside the ass of 'Not Archimedes'. The man wanted prisoners, and I really wished I had managed to find one of the Shock Mauls when I looked. In the end there was little reason not to take this man prisoner. The value to Small Copy might ingratiate the Heretek to me, resulting in favors. Not to mention the Witch Breed for the 'save'. It showcased my capability and willingness to assist others in their goals, making them easier to manipulate later on when it mattered.

All this and more ran through my mind, as the boot sailed through the air to connect with Not Archimedes...

Well, throwing an unarmed attack to bludgeon the guy and hopefully NOT outright kill him, inflict some fatigue and knock him out maybe.

Attack roll: [roll0] vs 41 WS, +20 Charge, +10 Ganging Up (Witch and Hector both in Close Combat, final mark of 71.

Damage: [roll1] with Primitive (7) (All dice above 7 are treated as 7, but 10 rolled still triggers a Zealous Hatred), +9 SB, Pen 0 Impact Damage.

[jolinaxas]

With no interest in the violent maniac or the incomprehensible maniac, Shandra was content to let the situation sort itself out. She bid Karen to step out of the lift, and kept a close eye on her as she spoke.

"We're running out of time. Whichever one you'd prefer to murder, get it over with."


Trying another FL:Heresy check so she might be able to guide them instead of, or in concert with, the mutant, now that she's seen the view from the top of the observatory. TN 42.

[roll0]

[Malthan]

"Have I done anything but serve you lordship..."

Gareth mewls pathetically, his blue features split open in fear. Literally, as you can see muscles and veins stretching at his crusty skin. The creature appears somehow more repulsive than when you left him, and you realise with a start that his clotted eyes are wet with tears.

His adversary seems even more twisted. As you announce your presence, he contorts so that his bearded head faces backwards, giving you an upside down stare. Two beady red orbs seem to blaze and smoulder at the sight, prompting him to gargle some repulsive pink liquid.

"Fresh meat..."

His body flips around, advancing towards you menacingly. But then he pauses, at first seemingly stuggling to comprehend the concise orders of Hector but then looking past the looming marine to give Ved a meaningful look.

"You...know you...Doctooooor!"

Then he squats suddenly and screams, a throaty and desperate noise that echoes throughout the desolate area. Examining him you see the wounds and scars that dot his complexion seem to have faded, not disappeared but are certainly less repulsive to look at. Blood decorates his extremities, possibly from fights with convicts but more likely from crawling through corpses to arise from his original location.

"Help me!"

He finally manages to gasp, before his veins flare and the Fever takes him again. Giving a toothy smile at the marine, he rises slowly, fangs bared and watching attentively. Chuckling as the marine puts away his weapons, the warrior nods in approval.

"I suppose you don't need a weapon. But you see, I AM A WEAPON!"

He boasts, holding his arms wide as a mocking gesture. The madman clearly intends to fight an astartes as an equal. Perhaps it was the sheer insanity of this decision that threw Hector's initial kick, which barely prompted a lazy dodge by Archimedes. The wide arc and clumsy nature of the blow prompting a growled retort from the rabid warrior.

"All those augments have made you soft space marine..."

Then he pounds his heavy chest before launching himself at you in a frenzy. Those amongst you with a particularly eidetic memory might now recall the ill-fated sergeant mentioning how residues of faith lingers in those affected by the Cloud compound, while fanatacism as a whole is increased exponentially. Perhaps that might explain the completely absurd levels of khorne martial honour and bravado

"Kill Archimedes, not hurt, must kill!"

Gareth screechs from the sidelines, until a terrible splat sounds from behind you. His eyes flicker behind you, widening in terror. Mad convicts from the levels above you have begun to hurl themselves down the shaft, the initial ones falling with some small degree of grace, with most dying but some only crippling themselves in the attempt. The convicts hiss at those not engaged in the brawl, crawling forwards weakly. The stairs above you also fill up with noise, with other beginning to travel down from a few floors above to reach you.


This prompts the mutant to crawl forwards like a cat, scampering to the protective shape of Revanus and Shandra. You notice now that he has something clutched in his hands, a charred and bloody vox-caster.

“They come…” He hisses, staring at the half-wrecked convicts that crawl weakly towards you, not exactly a threat but still grotesque and advancing. “Have gift, we escape through tunnels lord and lady, the water trenches…”

“Vile creature! Stand back!”

Karen shouts, her hardened look now returned in full. There is an edge to this guardswoman, the grief that she has experienced presumably suppressed to the pits of her essence as she levels her rifle at Gareth.

“Ach, loyalist! Filthy pure girl, make you not breathe I will, make you sacrifice…”

Karen responds by slamming the butt of her rifle into Gareth’s mutant face, knocking him on his rear. Then she presses her gun barrel against the whimpering creature’s deformed skull.

“How do we know you’re not one of them. That you haven't been infected by the fever. Look at its eyes masters, this mangey thing looks just as mad as the brute.”

She lands a heavy duty boot on Gareth’s chest, pinning him still.

“No, not me, protected by gods you see, please pretty girl, no more hurting…”

Meanwhile echoing groans and exultations to the god emperor only grow louder.


While this place looks familiar to you, the layout has been clearly warped by the battle. According to the plans you accessed earlier however, the best route to escape lies towards where Gareth and Archimedes had originally been discovered. There you can in fact vaguely make out a sleuce sewage grate, a common sight in the prison complex as part of the archaic waste system. It appears to be have been burnt open however, this damage perhaps caused hours earlier by the same heretics that supposedly fled from the Command Centre and now litter the floors of the dead.

[jolinaxas]

Shandra attempted to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Not quite. As you can see, 'pretty girl', he still has something besides the love of chaos in that addled mind of his. Remain calm."

Reaching down, she picked up the vox-caster from his hands and yelled towards the fight.

"Finish him off. We have an escape route!"

She regarded the device and started fiddling with the switches and dials to attempt to hear anything being broadcast to local Imperial forces while meandering towards the sewer entrance.

"We can use this to hear what they're doing, and perhaps mislead them in return."

Do we need to make a tech-use to scan the local frequencies?

[ArcturusV]

Not Archimedes went down. It was a brutal fight, and to be fair not as one sided as one might presume, seeing the uninjured Hector standing over the body of the man he had beaten with THESE HANDS. Not Archimedes had an advantage in raw power, able to go toe to toe with Hector, and seemed more trained in the ways of the Khornish Game Hens. Hector kept his cool though, keeping his guard up, dodging attacks that should have seriously hurt him, knocking the rage zombie down a few times, and eventually putting him down with a hard right cross.

The Rage Zombie was still breathing, and I turned to look back to Small Copy, "Alive... as requested," I said, and you could hear a bit of exertion in my voice over the short, brutal melee. I hadn't held anything back, and while Astartes could fight for hours, I had pushed myself to end it quick, decisively, and keeping the man alive.

Drawing my blade and pistol again, I looked back to Arkan, "Hurry up!" I commanded him, the whelp moving as fast as he could to get away from where it was Raining Men. "Close order drill, keep that blade ready," I advised him, knowing if we were heading into tunnels that the rifle's range would be unlikely to come into play. ANd if the Rage Zombies chased us it would definitely be bladework and mass death, the accurate shots of the rifle having little effect.

[jolinaxas]

"I defer to the military types in military matters, but failing any ideas from the rest of you, I'm going to wait until we get near the exit. When I hear someone important say 'over and out', I get on and impersonate them. Tell them the gas is starting to leak and that they'll have to mortar-bomb the infantry that are surrounding the building."

[Cognomeng]

"Thank you Hector. Well, let's see just how potent this special frenzon is. I highly doubt an unaugmented human would survive this." Ved hefts his power axe and chops it down four times on the prone body of not Archimedes while his mechadendrite pulls out the medikit. The limbs are quickly seperated from the torso, discarded and Ved breaks out the tourniquets, haphazardly looping them on and drawing them taught. "Remind me to get the mouth once we get clear of the gibbering horde. You, Karen girl, come help me drag this. And leave the psyker alone, hitting him might set something off. His story, demeanor, and odor are the same as when we left, well maybe not the odor. We certainly don't trust him, but he knows things, and therefore has some value. Now let's get the warp out of here."


So, I don't really want to roll four WS tests for severing an unconscious persons limbs with a Power Axe, but if you want me too, I will.
The medicae however, those need to be rolled. Either at a -10 or -30 depending on how hostile you call the situation.
[roll0] TN 75(55+20 Medikit) Looking to just stop the bleeding for now, I have a distinct feeling the Frenzon stuff will help keep him alive too.

[Revanus]

Alpharius steps towards Gareth, shielding him from Not Archimedes with his bulk. He looses another stream of heavy bolter shells towards the zombie swarm to cut down any of the crazed husks who survived the plummet down the elevator shaft.

He keeps an eye on the fight between Hector and the possessed. When Hector wins, Alpharius nods approvingly.

<Excellent work, cousin. I did not wish to endanger you with heavy bolter fire, but my blade was yours should you have required it. Your skill made such a question moot.>

His speech is interrupted by a quick three-round burst from the Heavy Bolter towards the zombies.

<Sample Archimedes if you think it beneficial, Heretek. However, remain wary. His healed wounds and general condition speak to a potential touch of Chaos Demon.>

When Karen lashes out at Garreth, Alpharius also puts his hand on her shoulder. His grip is not as gentle as Shandra's. After Shandra says her piece, Alpharius lifts her bodily off of Gareth's chest, tossing her a few feet in the direction of Ved while balancing the heavy bolter in one hand.

"Listen to Shandra. She has your interest at heart. The man you attacked is under my protection. Harm him again and you will pay with your life. Go make yourself useful...aid the Heretek."

Alpharius nods to Shandra.
<Thank you for calming her down. I promise I will not harm the girl without cause. Needless conflict imperils all our fates. If you think yourself able to fool the Imperials via vox, by all means engage in your ruse. However, if you are unsure, better to fade into the shadows and leave no trace of our presence than risk triangulation or further baiting the Imperials into tracking us down.>

Finally, Alpharius nods to Gareth.

"You are saved, Gareth. Now, lead onwards to the tunnels."

Actions:
Ammo Count: 36/60

Half Action Move (6 meters)
Full Auto at Horde: [roll0] vs 42+horde (42 BS+10 Short Range -10 full auto + horde size?)

Hits in OOC.

[Jyssika]

Tech already knew the sergeant was dwindling, he had made his last moments as difficult as he possibly could. He stood on the lift, failing miserably with corrupting its mechanisms they had resorted to rebuilding it as a hurtling deathtrap.

As the girl approached he knew her plan and with a twitch he began to move, his prisoner was his to devastate in whatever way he pleased. The vile hand however leant out its bloody finger like claws open to receive the girls cheek. It carassed her gently and with its bloody ink attempted to draw an eight pointed star.

The sergeant was dead, shot, but Tech only snorted... He thought of what to say, scolding her perhaps? No... she was trying to stand equal amongst Astartes, foolish... but brave...

His thoughts were cut into by the Zombies, momentarily afterwards the lift.

----

"Perhaps I should carry that, Heretek?"
He steps off of the lift and lifts the lug of bleeding Archimedes from the floor.
"Attempt to restrain yourself from shooting this one girl."

[meltodowno]

Stryx stepped in between Karen and Alpharius

"The worm threatened her first." he cracked his neck with a twist "He should count himself lucky I have not taken it's tongue. Be sure it does not threaten my ward again."

He turned back to the private.

"Follow, meat. If the worm hassles you further I shall deal with it, but it is also currently under our protection. If you harm it unprovoked, I shall not protect you from retribution. Understood?"

He nodded brusquely at her.

"Let's get out of here. My blades hunger for true loyalist blood ..."

He started moving off away from the lift, rationalising that if nothing else he should be able to cut his way out of anything softer than a ships bulkhead.

[ArcturusV]

I knew the Witch had some idea of where things were in these tunnels, but I also knew the witch's mind was shattered to the point where any usefulness was doubtful. I remembered the apparent ganger, the one named Shandra had professed to have been here before. Between his lay of the land gained during the battle, and her experience, it should make for a suitable way to pathfind through this area. Maybe a few gibbering warnings from the Psyker... it should be doable.

"Shandra," I spoke clearly and loudly to be heard over the roar of Alpharius's heavy bolter and the sound of Rage Zombies splatting on the lift. "Mind taking point with me. I got a good look at the enemy deployment, but I am sure your knowledge would prove useful here," that, and getting her close by for observation and trying to figure out how she's survived war with the Black Legion would prove quite useful.

My blade was on, my pistol drawn, and I nodded towards the exit, "With you," gesturing for her to walk side by side with him.

Arkan scowled a little, and glared at Shandra as he gripped his rifle tightly, and prepared to follow after me.

Going to be full moving and keeping pace with Shandra, shoulder to shoulder. Arkan following 2m behind Hector. Will be using my Navigation (Surface) skill to keep my bearings underground as needed. No trail marking because I don't feel like leaving a trail for people to follow once they break into the building... :smallwink:

Will use my Power Sword's Power Field for lighting unless someone has a Glow-Globe or the like to use... or the tunnels themselves are lit for some reason.

[meltodowno]

++ We need to hustle, to get locked down in combat is to abide by what they want. They are already mortaring the building, it is only a matter of time before the structure gives way and brings the place down on our heads ++

Stryx continued on apace, determined to not to fight on the imperials terms.

[jolinaxas]

"As long as you don't waste our precious time manhandling him."

She switched on the input of her micro-bead.

<Shouldn't be a problem, as our position will become apparent either way. The price paid for fielding eight-foot war machines, I should think. Still I'm content to wait until we make our exit, and to listen for now.>

She took point as instructed, leading them towards the sewer exit she recalled.

<This is likely the exit to which the mutant referred. Ones like it are everywhere - it was a great way to move supplies, if one didn't mind the... obvious issue with traveling through a sewer.>


Is there any chatter on the Imperial side of the vox?

[Jyssika]

++It will be wide and tall enough for our Eight Foot War Machines?++

Tech moved in the middle of the group just behind Shandra, Hector and Arkansas. He helped Ved if ever and whenever was needed and kept his shotgun and chainsword ready to intercept any zombies that might attempt to assault them.

[Malthan]

Listening in on the vox, Shandra manages to catch the tail end of a conversation between two guardsmen.

"...crawling down from the observatory. Fools somehow-"

"Understood. Continuing mortar fire. Field Team Bravo out."

The broken berserker's body still seems tougher and stronger than usual, his tendons and sinew requiring more effort than one might assume from Ved's heavy bladed power axe. Nevertheless, each blow carves his limbs off, dark liquid immediately spraying from the open wounds and prompting a whimper from Gareth.

Your attempts to heal him go smoothly, though patching him up still clearly took quite some time considering the massive amount of trauma. Time that is clearly running out...

They strike not as one but many. Those who attempted to crawl or fall down the shaft are mostly caught in Alpharius' bolter fire, their snapped limbs and gibbering mouths being blasted clean off in a torrent of gunfire.

From the leftside stairs however, a single enraptured maiden limps through Alpharius' kill zone, not quite dodging it so much as miraculously fading through it.

She looks different to the others, her skin darkened and necrotic, with pale ghoul eyes jutting out from sunken sockets. You realize then that she is not just some converted Fever victim, but something else, an apparition made manifest in flayed flesh and broken bone. You hear a faint refrain (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST2H8FWDvEA) emanate from behind and beyond this spectre, a lyricless song that seems familiar and real though rationally you could swear that it is neither.

"No, no , not again, not again!"

Gareth shrieks, crawling towards the sewage grate in a desperate bid to escape.

Her arms raise slowly, pointing in accusation before a smile splits her face.

"All sinners fall under the Emperor's shadow..."

She rasps, before throwing back her head and screaming out a banshee's cry. This is met by a wave of sound from the higher levels, thundering cries and shrill laughs echoing throughout the complex.

The fall now softened by their own dead, mad convicts throw themselves from the higher levels and onto the elevation platform, dragging themselves up to join in a massed assault. From both sides of the stairs, tides of gibbering fanatics come stampeding forwards, brushing past the lone maiden who now seems empty and soulless, a fel smile still spread across the husk's face as she collapses into the masses.

The horde has come for you.

Frenzied mob, magnitude 43 (this counts as the total for the advanced force from the closest floors). The closest of the horde lies 25 metres away from the party, with you guys standing around 15 metres away from the sewer exit.

[Cognomeng]

"Thank you Tech, let's get out of this place now." Ved starts moving for the Sewer entrance firing the looted lasgun at the Horde as he withdraws. "Servo-Skull, keep pace and fire on the enemy."


Semi-Auto fire on the horde, 38+10(short range)+Horde Size modifier+ I think I'm forgetting something
[roll0] TN 48+Horde Size
3 possible hits
[roll1]
Crit effects [roll2]
[roll3]
Crit effects [roll4]
[roll5]
Crit effects [roll6]

Servo-Skull Semi-Auto 23+10+HSM
[roll7] TN 33+HSM
2 Possible Hits
[roll8]
Crit effects [roll9]
[roll10]
Crit effects [roll11]

[Revanus]

"We need to conduct a tactical retreat, immediately. The slower among us and those with heavy weapons should run for the sewers. I will lay covering fire down and join you in the run momentarily. As I cross the threshold, those already in the sewers should fire at the horde to cover my retreat, while krak missiles should collapse the sewer entrance once I pass the threshold."

With that, Alpharius moves closer towards the sewers, tracking backwards at a decent pace while his heavy bolter barks 1-inch shells of fury at the frenzied horde. The screams of the crazed are met by the screams of the gyrojets at as the rocket-propelled munitions careen towards the mass of flesh and explode.

Actions:

Ammo: 30/60
Mag Damage so far: 18?
Half Action: Move (6m-towards sewer.)
Half Action: Full Auto

Attack: [roll0] vs. 72/82(42 BS +10 short range -10 Full Auto+30/40 Horde Size)

Hit rolls unnecessessary--DoS=hits given the +12, Pen 5 profile of Heavy Bolter Shells.

[ArcturusV]

My eyes remained ahead, not running in some disorderly route, but taking measured steps and moving at a clipped pace to keep my guard up, just in case as we headed towards the Sewers something lurked inside and decided to take the battle to the Warband, thinking they had found easy prey. I knew the horde was closing, though I wasn't looking at them, the sound of the Bolter chattering out and the whine of las weaponry was proof enough of that. But I didn't care, having little fear for the unarmed rabble of prisoners, and less faith that they could crack the sustained fire of the Warband.

Arkan meanwhile was running flat out, trying to keep up with me, breathing hard with the exertion his shattered body was barely capable of making, and even then starting to fall behind a little. I idly wondered if this would finally be the battlefield that would see the miserable whelp killed.

Hector takes a Full Move to go forward 10m towards the Sewers.

Arkan is using the Run Action and manages to cover 6m, until his next round BS Tests against him are -20 but WS tests against him are +20.

[jolinaxas]

Shandra kept moving towards the sewers.

"Clearing out our exit, now."

Attempting to parrot the last female authority figure she'd heard, she got back on the voxcaster and started to bark orders.

<Mortar Team Bravo, the failsafe has begun to leak from the complex tower. All formerly friendly infantry in the immediate area are considered compromised - reset your targeting to their location, by the command of Commissar Nadia Ustinova. For the Emperor!>


The name isn't one you gave, just something for fluff. Given that 40k's equal-opportunity as far as dying for Space Jesus goes, I assumed we'd heard at least one high-ranking female authority figure among all the chatter by now.

Fel 56 + Deceive+10 + Mimic+20 + Infamy Point +10 = TN 96
[roll0]

She spends the whole round running towards the sewer entrance.

[Jyssika]

Tech had spent the previous precious seconds scanning the tunnel for weak points he was an iron warrior he could bring down the walls of terra with just his fists if he had to!

[roll0] 45 + 10 for cyber, 10+ for enchanted? +2DoS I'd successful.

He runs to where he spots a good weak point.
++Alpharius, begin your withdrawal! Stryx, to me, I need you to help me hold the line and bring down the tunnel here!++

He readies his shotgun and draws his chainsword.
After he has let Alpharious pass he will stand shoulder to shoulder with Stryx and fire his shotgun once the horde reach point blank range.

If possible he will pass alpharious the bloody body of Archimedes as he runs past.

[meltodowno]

Stryx ran to the point indicated, spinning around to face the oncoming horde, claws bared as he slid to a halt.

++ Affirmative. ++

Electricity arced down the tines of the claws as the power fields sprang into life.

"Meat! Follow the others down, I shall catch up."

Inside the mask he grinned in anticipation of the coming violence, he hated withdrawing.

[Malthan]

Karen’s fear makes her fast, prompting her to snap shot a succession of remarkably accurate shots into the approaching horde as she backpedals away from them. Two glancing shots are shrugged off by her targets, now possessed of some mad and irrational toughness. The third burned straight through her victim’s skulls, prompting a chuckle of satisfaction. While once she had all but despaired at the thought of facing this horror, she now seemed more confident in the presence of Shandra and Stryx, her supposed heralds of the Omega. Or perhaps she was simply gaining a taste for killing.

The servo-skull chirped in response to its masters orders, though it perhaps required further recalibrating as it swung and barrel-rolled aimlessly while firing, causing it’s shots to stray wide and hit nothing but air. Ved’s shots were more true but again the terrible toughness of the advancing horde meant that only a couple of convicts were culled by his attacks.

Those of a superstitious slant might now consider that one of the dark gods was working against you, or that perhaps these Imperial fools had indeed managed to tap into some feeble divinity possessed by their false-emperor.
It was perhaps Alpharius’ hail of gunfire that best justified such a trail of thought. For just as the ghoulish maiden had waded through his rapid fire, the horde now distorted and weaved around his bolts. Or perhaps for the more cynical amongst you, the traitor legionnaire had simply not adjusted his weapon properly.

Sprinting at full pace, the horde wastes no time in their pursuit. Relentless, rabid and hateful they run forwards with mad prayers on their lips. Ignoring and trampling their fallen, they swarm forwards chanting and raving with renewed purpose.

“Be absolved in death”
“Give us your sin, Heretics!”
“Emperor deliver us unto you! ”
“A spiritu dominatus, Domine, libra nos”

Those of you running from the horde arrive close to Gareth by the grate, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

"The colours are so bright, she makes them bright again! It hurts lords, it hurts!"

Mewling, the creature drops through the grate, slinking away from the combat altogether. He clearly intends you to follow him.

Tech's diagnostics provide what appears to be a collapsible part of the sleuce system, though it would require both your own efforts as well as Stryx's to do so. Alternatively, a rocket or explosive might be able to do the same job from range.

However, doing so now would trap anyone still on the outside of the sewer system. Therefore it might be prudent to wait for the others to reach you, unless you intend to doom them.

You mimic the authoritarian inflection of a member of the commissariat perfectly, a dark presence seeming to bolster your acting abilities to an exceptional degree.

“Compromised? But the gas will stabilise, they’ll be able to join a penitent squad once the Fever’s settled-“

You hear a second voice interrupt in the background.

“It’s a bloody commissar Jacobs! I’m not risking my neck for those dregs assaulting the Augustine Complex. We don’t question orders.”

There’s a weighted pause as the first speaker clearly considers his own conscience, the worth of the men sieging the area and his own fear of a loaded bolt pistol.

“Understood. Recalibrating bombardment.”

The horde has now ran 16 metres. At their initiative they will move to charge the closest target, as per frenzy rules. Gareth has slipped through the grate and into the Sewer tunnels.

[Cognomeng]

Ved looks at the situation from over his shoulder. "Servo-Skull, full retreat mode!" He then swivels his head back towards the tunnel, and runs as fast as his non-augmetic legs can carry him. The Serve-Skull bleets in acknowledgement and draws even with him in an instant. "Made *pant* the bloody *pant* thing too fast!"


18 Meters for Ved and 21 for Ser Skullington. That's not a bad name...

[Jyssika]

Move now, we will hold them here!

He places he's only left hand against the world eaters cauldron briefly.

++I can crack the tunnel with the brute strength of my servo but for a full breach we will need the agile cutting power of your gauntlets... we may need to rebuff a wave of the cultists before we can complete our task...++

[jolinaxas]

Regardless of the direness of their current situation, Shandra still found time to hold the vox-caster aloft triumphantly.

"They are now busy bombing their own front lines. We're clear until the actual Commissar Ustinova makes herself known. Assuming she isn't shot for giving such an incompetent order, of course. So our exit's covered. Also, these things are apparently re-useable, if sedated. Something worth noting."

[Revanus]

Alpharius doesn't hesitate. Once his initial burst of fire is completed, he sprints the remaining length of the tunnel, covering 36 meters in the blink of an eye.

Once he hits his mark, Alpharius slides to a stop--Heavy bolter in position to decimate the zombie horde once more.

<Confirmed--in position. Commencing autofire in three seconds. Keep heads down, avoid close combat, and continue to exfiltrate. Collapse the entrance once the last of us pass the threshold.>

Actions:
Full Action--Run (36 meters: AGI Bonus 5 +1 size bonus=6)

[meltodowno]

++Tell me where and when++ Stryx replied.

He stood in a battle stance, ready to receive the horde.


Stryx is delaying his action - I can choose to take a half action at any point during the turn.

First priority will be to either attack any mooks that come in too close, or to strike when the Tech says.

[roll0] TN70 + any modifiers for magnitude, etc.

If no attacking is needed, and everyone else has bugged out, move down grate.
If no attacking is needed, and someone drops, move action to get next to them at the end of the turn.
If no attacking is needed, and we still need to hold the line, take an aim action.

[ArcturusV]

While the others ran, I remained disciplined, keeping up my steady pace, blade held ready. I wasn't really watching the battle behind me, we had proven before how easily we handled the chaff of this complex after all, and with all the screaming and sound of bolter fire, and so forth, I had no reason to question. I was well into the sewer now, thankful for my own bio-support systems considering the amount of filth we likely were to be trudging through for the short term at least, the relative waste of thousands of bodies crammed into this particular prison tower alone, nevermind whatever other prisons might be on the same line. As well as the mix of gore and death from the battle that had taken the lower level of the prison earlier.

I was crazed perhaps, but not so crazed to emulate those who sought to rut in such filth like a grox.

Though I was certain we'd run into something that was of that mindset, and thus weapons ready, focus forward.

Full Move again, 10m further into the sewers, weapons ready and taking point.

[ArcturusV]

Arkan cried out, as the swarm of Rage Zombies passed over him, punching, elbowing, trampling, knocking the wind out of him as he was knocked down and trampled over without the horde even seeming to realize or care that he was there. He curled up, trying to ward off the mass of attacks coming for him, knowing he was trapped and with no way out as the darkness swallowed him...

He's knocked out, since he took 1 Fatigue from the Critical Hit effect, and 1 from an Unarmed attack that inflicted damage on him (Any unarmed hit would since he only has 1 TB). That means he's knocked out for 9 minutes. He's dead Jim.

[Malthan]

Karen's new found bravery wavered as she saw the legions of convicts weather the warband's collective fire, obeying Stryx with an all too obvious enthusiasm.

"Come back to the light Karen..."

One of the monsters roared, and you realize that at least some amongst the throng of attackers must have recognized their jailor. Should they catch her, the result would not be pretty.

The evidence for this was now all too apparent. The waddling chapter serf Arkan, sprinting as fast as his deformed legs could carry him, was already half spent by the time the horde had caught up to him. His wheezing, plodding steps were soon drowned out by the thunderous footsteps of an entire horde. Looking behind him, his features twisted in fright and he had barely a moment to cry out before the first convict leapt onto him. A full force tackle, the serf was sent sprawling as additional prisoners swarmed over him, lifting him up so that they might strike him again and again. His ribs cracked and pierced inwards as blow after blow was leveled against his chest armour. Murky, bloodied fists shatter on the armour leaving bloody fist imprints with each rabid attack, but the repeated concussions force the serf to whimper and drool blood. Finally he manages to moan out a pathetic plea,

"Master..."

Before he was lifted up and slammed against the floor weightily by a wiry and muscled fanatic. Getting no immediate response and being literally swarmed by madmen, he desperately cried out once more, the last word perhaps any would expect and quite probably the last word he would ever speak in his miserable existence.

"Brother!"


"What waiting for, most going, leave silly man thing to die, take advantage and run!"

Gareth hissed at those close enough to hear him speak through the tunnel. His dirtied face was no where to be seen but his echoing voice could be heard from inside the tunnel, his expression urgent and oddly commanding.

[ArcturusV]

I had known shame for a long time. My capabilities were of course limited, I was still mortal after all. But just because I knew Shame, didn't mean that it didn't fill me with a smoldering anger when I felt it. In that moment it hit me. The call of Brother, the knowledge that the weakling neophyte had fallen, and that I had failed to preserve a vital source of potentially good Gene-Seed. I turned around quickly, and saw exactly what I had expected to see, the crush of bodies from the Rage Zombies, no sign of Arkan Sevus, Neophyte of the Flesh Death, and everyone else either at the entrance to the tunnel, or having fled far into it.

My body was already moving as my mind processed what I saw and heard. Centuries honed reflexes forged in countless drills and thousands of battles sending me surging towards the tide of Rage Zombies, Power Sword at the ready, my ceramite armored bulk crashing towards them like a Land Raider about to plow through a hive gang. I felt my throat calling out the battle cry of my chapter, "All shall perish!" even as my mind calculated the odds of this action.

I knew I had to take it. The recovery of the gene-seed was a priority, I doubted Arkan was alive. But it could be harvested and replanted. The battle would be long, hard, but I should be able to triumph over this rabble. My allies were the wild card. They may or may not help me. But all it did was determine how quickly, and how successful my mission might be. The timer was not the arrival of more of these Rage Zombies, because I had proven their weakness and inability to take me in a fight, but the possible arrival of Imperial Guard units and heavy ordinance, possibly an Earthshaker cannon or Leman Russ Demolisher being called in to level this building. I had to hit them hard, hit them fast, get the body, and get out as soon as I could. And hope my allies did not blatantly screw me...

My sword flashed out as my power armor bulk crashed into the frontline of the mob, the battle was on...

Charge Action against the Horde.

Attack: [roll0] vs 41 WS, +20 Charge Attack, +30 Horde Size Modifier, final mark of 91.

Not rolling Damage since... any hit I do will dust the horde. So Magnitude Damage is +1 Power Weapon, +1 Successful Hit, +1 every 2 DoS on the attack.

[jolinaxas]

Shandra moves around to look Karen in the eyes (and to partially block her view of the horde).

"There's no light over there, Karen. Just the blackness you've strove so hard to avoid. The fate they would have left you to in the first place."

At the sound of the marine's charge into the horde, she let out an exasperated sigh and turned back around to face the fight, albeit with a momentary look towards the beckoning sewer and the mutant beckoning her towards safety.

"Is there some reason he's wading into them? I saw that thing that served him all but broken in half just now."

Still, if he was determined to do this - well, she wasn't getting anywhere without the marines anyway. Switching the laspistol to her dominant right hand (and vice versa), she took aim and fired.


BS 30 + Semi-Auto 0 + Friends In Melee -20 + Horde Size ?? = TN 10+???
[roll0]
Both weapons are technically "ready", would swapping hands be a free action? If so, add 10 to the above TN, since she'd be able to aim.
Possible Damage Rolls (Pen 0 for all)
1)[roll1]
2)[roll2]
3)[roll3]

[meltodowno]

Seeing one of the group fall, and not needing much excuse for a fight, with an almost a bestial snarl, Stryx surged forward towards the horde.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"

He twisted his claws through the nearest cultist, cutting clean through him into ribbon, his helmet crushed the skull of another as it tried to surge. His boot crushed the leg of another as he left him to bleed out, his claws flashing out spreading a gore and viscera around him.


Charge action against the Horde.

Attack: [roll0] vs 60 WS, +20 Charge Attack, +30 Horde Size Modifier, + 10 Aim final mark of 110.

Not rolling Damage due to overkill, Magnitude Damage is +1 Power Weapon, +1 Successful Hit, +1 every 2 DoS on the attack.

3 magnitude Damage

[Revanus]

Alpharius sighs inwardly as the other Space Marines close with the zombie horde. He has little doubt they will emerge victorious--the only concern is the delay.

He weighs firing into the mess of combat. His ceramite-clad finger hovers over the trigger--he had a reasonable chance of success at hitting enemies, and if friendlies wound up injured from his fire--there was advantage there too.

But also risk. The warband had proven...sentimental. If a Marine went down to heavy bolter fire, or lost mobility...the group might never leave. And while Alpharius was comfortable operating without the group, there was strength in numbers.

Alpharius could also scout ahead for danger--and lay the grounds for a trap should others come down the tunnel. Yet, something about the way Gareth had disappeared left him disinclined to pursue. He was the Hydra--he would not be led along into a trap by a mouse.

<Firing lanes are no longer clear. Establishing Overwatch on opposite side of tunnel. Clean the rabble up quickly and then collapse the tunnel.>

Actions:
Free Action: Awareness test to spot Gareth. If spotted, free action to gesture for him to Return to Alpharius.

Awareness: [roll0] vs. 61 (41+10 Heightened Senses+10 Autosenses, Dark Sight)

Full Action: Overwatch on opposite side of tunnel. If any but Gareth enter into killzone, full auto attack.)

[Cognomeng]

"Servo-Skull Auspex down the sewer, stay out of Alpharius' line of fire." Ved raises the lasgun, aims for half a second, and lets out a burst of las fire towards the horde.


[roll0] TN 78 +10 short +10 Half aim +10 Red Dot +30 Horde Size -20 Friendlies in melee. Extra hit for 2 DoS 3 max
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]

Apologies if I hit anyone who matters.

[Jyssika]

Tech knew melee Iron Warriors had enough crazed berzerkers to know when to duck, and that was exactly what he did as the maddened marine leapt over him and into the fray.

Lifting himself and tossing the lump warrior aside from his servo arm he follows the two bouldering astartes into the jaws of death.

None shall cross my Iron trench!

He draws his crossword, and forms a final bastion and rear guard advancing behind them and killing anything that makes it past their powered blades.

[roll0] 44+30+30=104vs72 AoA Chainsword 2 mag
[roll1] 44-20+30=54vs90 servo arm 3 mag
5 mag total

[Malthan]

The initial lasfire brings down the fanatic frontrunners, picked off by Ved’s carefully precise shots and Shandra’s reluctant firepower. The crack of small arms was soon outdone by the warcrys of Astartes however, their voices carried through powerful vox grills. Yet this noise was immediately matched by mad shouts erupting from the horde who clearly relished in the joy of dying for their god-emperor.

“Kill them, by the god-emperor, cut out their tongues so that they might profane no more!”

Now joining in rapturous combat, the wave of fanatical convicts slam into the wrathful traitor marines. Power blades and chains weapons sweep through their ranks, tearing their lines open with each cleaving strike. Stryx and Tech brutalise their opponents with rending blades, utterly demolishing those they happen upon - yet their strikes are not quite as precise or careful as their cousin's bloody retribution. With cold and calculated fury, it is Hector whose blade gleams dark crimson, with each sweep of his blade parting the red sea.

Yet the madmen are utterly without remorse or fear, for the fanatics hurl themselves onto Hector’s spiked armour, literally impaling themselves on his dread plate so that they might drown him with their bodies. But for all their fervour, they were but mortals waging war on murderous gods.

If their attacks had required multiple strikes to overcome Arkan’s carapace, to hurt a space marine would require many multiples of this. Wiry, violent limbs collapse and thud against their opponents, attempting not to so much breach but barrage the marines concealed underneath their dark power armour. This proves to be an inadequate strategy, failing to land so much as a single decisive blow. Perhaps the greatest damage being done to the chaos warriors was to Hector’s morale.

For carving his way into the midst of them, the Flesh Death remnant spots Arkan’s final fate. Dazed and unconscious, the serf lies surrounded by a crowd of jeering convicts who trample and torture the prone serf. With each spiteful kick and brutal blow, they shatter his already broken bones, pummelling and pushing his organs deeper onto what remains of his ribcage.

Finally, one of the convicts, a large and brutish thing, grabs hold of Arkan’s missile launcher, dragging it from the slumped figure’s grasp. He examines it briefly before standing atop the defeated creature and making eye contact with the raging space marines. His pose mimicking ancient Terran sacrificial cultures, the fanatic roars out a final chant:

“Let death be your absolution!”

And then brings down the heavy weight of Arkan’s own weapon onto the heretic’s splintered spine. It lands with a sickening crack, splattering bone and blood across the floor, with jets of blood and brains shooting from the heretic's now leaking skull.

A collective cheer goes up amongst the horde, who scream absolution to the dead, begging for the Emperor’s deliverance to those who die, sick glee and sadism rallying them even as their ranks are broken open by vengeful gods.


Alpharius hears the faint whir of machinery, a cacophony of dull clanking and the occasional hiss of steampunk tech coming into activation. Somewhere in the tunnel, Gareth is muttering to himself about quite literally nothing, a word he keeps repeating to your annoyance.

Beyond the dull thud of mechanics, the sewer sounds eerily quiet, floating water and sewage perhaps concealing anything more insidious. The Astartes’ keen eyes and ears are assisted by the servo-skull’s auspex, which blinks red with movement.

Quite suddenly a girbbly blue face shoots up in front of you wide eyed and foaming.

“What doing, master and mistress be dying soon, hurry, through water trench, quick walk yes…”

Karen cradles her gun, muttering something.

“Fortitude…honour…throne…”

You realize with a start that she is supressing a prayer to the same false idol as the one the throng of convicts is now chanting and dying for.

[meltodowno]

Stryx pressed home his attack, as the frenzied throng closed around him. Now the combat was engaged his frantically lashed out at the fanatics, tearing through flesh and bone like paper. It was less of a fight and more of a dance as he revelled in the bloodlust.

His voice screamed out as his claws found an convicts neck, the head flying through the air.

"Skulls for the skull throne!"


Two Weapon Fighting, Two attacks

Attack: [roll0] vs 60 WS, +30 Horde Size Modifier = 90 TN
Attack 2: [roll1] vs 60 WS, +30 Horde Size Modifier = 90 TN

Not rolling Damage due to overkill, Magnitude Damage is +1 Power Weapon, +1 Successful Hit, +1 every 2 DoS on the attack.

4 Magnitude Damage.

[Revanus]

Alpharius tenses as the blue face pops into view, the Heavy Bolter aligning with the new figure's position and finger hovering over the trigger. Recognizing Gareth, he relaxes and shifts the barrel away.

"We are leaving momentarily. The warband is about to bring down the entrance behind us, so none can follow. Come stand beside me--your positioning is unsafe. Should something else come down the tunnel I do not want to catch you in my fire."

(Free action: Speech. I'll take my actual turn as per initiative.)

[Jyssika]

++You are seeking petty vengeance or does your serf carry a prize you wish to reclaim?++

Tech seems entirely unphased as he hacks his way through the crazed idiots who manage to somehow pass by the marauding warriors ahead of him. Blood, bone and organs splashed across his grey armour by the vicious chainsword.

[roll0] 44+30+30=104 mag 5!
[roll1] 44+30-20=54 miss!

[Cognomeng]

Ved launches a volley of red light at the Frenzling holding the Missile Launcher. "That missile launcher could be quite useful still. And I imagine the serf had a supply of ammunition for it as well. Quite valuable, and thus far worth the expenditure of a few las beams and the seconds we are using. We can finish the horde, bring down the edge of the tunnel and take a few moments to regroup. Karen, they call to you in desperation. They know they cannot stop us, that they will fail their Emperor even having resorted to this wonderous display of chemicals. They cling to the hope you will turn, and somehow be capable of altering the flow of battle. And the odds of that happening are... Nil. Pay their whispers and cries no heed. Plug your ears for now if you must, but don't worry, our survival rate, even with the inclusion of the unfortunate serf, is quite high thus far."


Called shot on missile frenzling, is full action so I lose half aim bonus, don't think there are any further penalties but am away from books.
[roll0] TN 68 +10 short +10 Red Dot +30 Horde Size -20 Friendlies in melee. Extra hit for 2 DoS 3 max
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]
[roll6]

[Revanus]

Alpharius sets his feet, continuing to scan the path ahead for any hint of danger. His heavy bolter slowly sweeps the area, ready to slaughter any incoming foes.

Gareth would be well advised to rejoin the party at the side of Alpharius.

Actions:
Full-Action: Overwatch on opposite end of tunnel, any but Gareth get a bolt sandwich for lunch. [Same as last turn]

[ArcturusV]

"Gene-seed," That was all I said to Tech's question. Tech should understand, even the Iron Warriors needed the seeds, a prize far greater than any mere weapon or trophy. Another Marine, another warrior, another brother. I didn't have time to elaborate any more, as my blade arced out again in a disciplined cut, trying to buy me enough time to hoist up the body of Arkan. The Missile Launcher? Bah, I had one already. I could get another. But the Gene-Seed wouldn't be replaceable, not unless one of the Space Marines here fell in battle... always a possibility.

Of course the spare missiles he had would be useful. Reason enough to grab the entire body rather than just ripping off a key part. No time to think about the desecration, the lines spouted off by the rabble dying to lasbolts and power fields, Imperial Trash touching Flesh Death Weaponry, just kill, grab, and accomplish the goals. Focus on the goals. Get the Seed. Recover what you can of value in addition. Kill and take. Kill and take.

Standard Attack Action to Slice and Dice some of the horde for more breathing room, then Ready Action to go pick up Arkan Sevus, dead chapter serf.

Attack: [roll0] vs 41 WS, +10 Standard Attack, +30 Horde Size, Final Mark of 81.

Will inflict 1 Magnitude Damage on the hit, +1 for Power Weaponry, and +1 for every 2 DoS on the Attack roll because SPESS MEHREEN!

[Malthan]

Their numbers culled significantly in the initial charge, the horde nevertheless defiantly continues its attempt to “purge the heretics”. Sweeping carcasses left and right, Stryx uses both of his claws to bisect those mad and foolish enough to approach him. Yet one of his claws swipes a little too wildly, allowing a collection of frothing fanatics to leap onto him. They smash their own limbs against his eye lenses before finally blunting their puny skulls against his power armour. Though he ripped them viscerally off his grey armour, his machine spirit growled in frustrated anger. They had either clogged his power servos with their own blood or some managed to land a lucky strike against his crimson eye socket, though the damage was mostly just insulting at this stage.

Tech was similarly assaulted, although without suffering the same degree from the mad zealots. Instead his chainsword seared through them weightily, cutting them apart with disdain and leaving little but entrails in his wake. To his annoyance they still died laughing and singing praises to their pathetic false Emperor.
Arkan’s killers descended upon Hector but their crude attempts to restrain him were shrugged of and repaid with serrated impunity. Smiling and striding forward, the missile launcher wielding executioner stepped off the heretic’s corpse, pointing the bazooka in an awkward and definitively non-regimented way. Before he could let off a shot however, he was stuck in the chest by Ved’s rifle, which knocked him backwards and away from the marine. Lifted up by his allies, he gave Ved a glare before aiming the thing at one who would dare insult his honour by trying to snipe him.

Stooping down with some care, most likely due to concerns over the gene-seed than anything, Hector took hold of his companion and slung him over his shoulder. He had the corpse, though there was still killing to be done.
For across the hall, more convicts were swarming down, frothing mad and shaking their shackles like hellish instruments. They would likely descend upon the astartes imminently.

Gareth reluctantly climbs up to you, sighing. He looks at you meaningfully and says,

"There's nothing down there."

Then goes uncharacteristically quiet, observing the continued devastation at the hands of the Traitor marines.

This horde is close to defeat. Rocket launcher guy represents the horde “readying” the rocket launcher, and next turn, if he lives, he will try to fire it (untrained and pretty poorly I presume) at one of you. It’s partially for fun, but also I think legal by the whole horde can shoot and attack thing. Could be a lethal joke however…

Targeting him is a called shot, he’s already down a few wounds anyway.

The next horde has made it down the stairs now, so don't wait around too long. Their numbers are effectively endless.

[ArcturusV]

Another few of the mindless rage zombies impaled on my spikes and ripped to shreds as they feebly tried to get a hold of ceramite, adamantium, and the raw power of a Space Marine. I watched them fall even as I salvaged Akran, and let out a single, mocking, "Tch!" at their complete and utter failure that they had been so far for all their litanies and attempts to invoke the Traitor King against him. Dismissively I walked away from them, knowing my power armored feet could carry me faster than their frenzied scrambling legs could ever manage, even with just a simple stride from me. My blade was out, ready to cut down the fools if they thought to even attempt to cut me off.

I'm leaving melee so they get a free swing at me, and I'm Full Moving so I move 10m away towards the exit.

[Jyssika]

Tech burns as every hair on his body stands on end and every remaining skincell goosebumps.

Gene seed...

++Clear a path we are leaving++

Tech lets the others pass him, once again taking rear guard before sprinting down the tunnel after them. As he does he wails on the ceiling above him with the powerful servo arm.

[roll0] +14 pen 10. Presumably he doesn't have to roll to hit the ceiling... but I will put one below anyway.
[roll1] ws44 -20+many for size?.

[jolinaxas]

Gene seed? Shandra considered the question of what it was, but remained in the dark as the marines said no more. Whatever it was, it was certainly important. And so she also kept firing.

=============

Thanking her new gods that the marines were disengaging the mass of prisoners before it overwhelmed man and superman alike, she took Karen by the arm and headed into the sewers.

"We're leaving."


TN 60, like last round.
[roll0]
Possible Damage Rolls (Pen 0 for all)
1)[roll1]
2)[roll2]

[meltodowno]

Seeing the tides turning yet again, Stryx ran back to the the sewer entrance, readying himself to attack the structure where Niet had previously pointed out. He took a defensive stance as he waited for the time to strike.

"Private! You will withdraw - and so help me if I hear you praying to a corpse again I will give you back to its moronic brain eating worshipers! You are now a grizzled renegade badass fighting against a tyrannical regime that is seeking to feed you to monsters ... so how about you pull on your big girl pants and act like it!"

He looked across to Tech Niet and nodded in acknowledgement that he was ready.

++ I should have been a commissar. ++

[Jyssika]

++Perhaps you can be the first Dark Apostle of the World Eaters, not that your cadre require any encouragement to charge into the fray!++

He stops his sprint next to the red warrior and turns to face the advancing horde shoulder to shoulder.

"Breaching!!!!!"

Tech screams in a deafening screaching roar, and readies to strike the ceiling. Tech felt a strange comeradery with the World Eater, if he had to hold this breach against the tide there was no other he would rather at his side.
on his next action he will all out attack on the tunnel roof.

[Cognomeng]

Ved takes aim at the frenzling with the rocket launcher. With his allies having pulled back, he has a much clearer shot.


Another called shot on the guy with the rocket launcher, on principle more than anything else.
[roll0] TN 98 +10 Short +10 Red Dot +10 Singleshot +30 Horde Size(did it drop to +20 yet?
[roll1]

[Revanus]

At Tech's warning, Alpharius swivels to check on the party's status. The arrival of the second horde is not ideal.

<Covering fire.>

The heavy bolter aligns itself with the mass of frenzied zombies in the distance, as the green Autosenses of Alpharius' helmet suggest proper ballistic trajectories and recoil paths.

The walls of the tunnels shake as the heavy bolter belches fire, dust flowing down between cracks in the masonry and stones rattling in their mortar as palpable shockwaves bounce off the walls. A swarm of 1-inch bolt shells propel themselves towards the frenzied mob.

Actions:
Half action Aim (Horde #2)
Half Action: Full Auto
[roll0] vs. 92 (42 +10 Aim +10 Short Range +40 size-10 full auto)

Result: 7 Magnitude Damage (6 hits+1 explosive)
Total Magnitude Damage: 26 (19+7)

Ammo: 24/60

[Jyssika]

All out attack [roll0] 44+30-20=54 (+30? For size? 84?)
[roll1] pen 10.

Reaction [roll2] 44-20=24 (+30? For size? 54?)
[roll3] pen 10.

Tech begins bashing the servo arm into the roof with a lack of grace.
The first strike not finding a fault line but the second hitting the proverbial nail on its proverbial head and casting long cracks through the maisonary.

He dives under the stream of bullets as it streams over head.
++Watch your frakking firing lines you turncoat!++

[Malthan]

Shandra’s instructions and Stryx’ harsh commands are all the motivation Shandra needs. She dives into the filth of the sewers, landing somewhere in the darkness. Gareth crouches and follows her cautiously, his fall less graceful but far more calculated.

“So much time lost, poor master, poor mistress…”

His voice echoes through the grate, though it is drowned out in volume by the cries of battle.

Wading out of combat, the marine’s withdrawal is met with a wave of jeers by the convicts. Though they were being soundly defeated, there is no sense of cowardice in their curses, instead only a desire for further carnage. Most mock the honour of the heretics, though a few instead mock the dead Arkan.

In particular, his executioner roars out a mocking cry of,

“Join your slave, heretics!”

As he fumbles with the rocket trigger, finally figuring out the firing mechanism.

Click.

His confusion lasts mere moments until Ved’s next barrage sear into his unprotected flesh. While the frenzy might have made him tougher, the shot was enough to char his leg and force him to one knee. His bellow of frustration was audible even over Shanrda and Revanus’ cover fire, which slices down the closest batch of heretics and silences their jives with bolt and blaster.

With the heretics regrouped at the sewer entrance, Tech’s servo-arm swings wildly into the rockrete. Thrashing with barely controlled precision, his artificial limb quickly shakes the wall’s structure, bringing rubble rapidly down. Stryx lends his claws and talons, tearing and mauling sections down into place.

With a great rumble, the entire wall section begins to collapse forwards, an avalanche of rock meeting the avalanche of fanatics still charging into you. The last you see of them through the dust and debris, they are chanting with seething anger, their screams of impotent fury at last blocked out by the artificial landslide.

Turning to your immediate surroundings, you survey the sluice/ sewage tunnel.

http://i.gyazo.com/30733f359afa46a7e1205b1724e61d32.png

There appears to be barely enough space for you to progress as a pack. You will have to form ranks in order to fit the tunnels width, with two Astartes at most able to stand side by side. Your procession must be organized properly before you can proceed down the tunnel.

Meanwhile Gareth stands to your left, motioning for you to follow him at once. Down his path you can hear the faint clanking of machinery as well as the occasional whir.

“Must follow at last yes, following me lords.”

[Jyssika]

Tech once again picks up the red limbless warrior he h as d earlier disguarded. Patting the world eater on the shoulder with his only left hand now that the combat is over.

++Flesh Death, your acolyte... do you need time?++

[meltodowno]

Stryx nodded in acknowledgement of a job well done to Niet, among the Marines there was little need for words. The same was not true of the normal humans, they needed the words to feel comfort. He turned his attention to Private Karen.

"Allay your fears, meat. They cannot get you, and I am here. You are safe, and you have survived what your squad would not ... and could not. You are stronger than you realize."

He looked around the immediate surrounding in the sewer to familiarize himself.

"Now, we have to get moving - who knows what might be living down here. You are going to stay calm and stick close to me. Ok? While we are moving, I want you to tell me what you can about the guards command structure here. Be specific, any detail may be relevant."

Truthfully, he expected most details to be irrelevant, but he knew that giving her a task and keeping her mind active on it would help keep her mind off the current situation.

[Revanus]

Alpharius eyes the width of the tunnel. A plan forms.

He subvocalizes the following plan into his microbead.

<The tunnel is too narrow to allow us all to walk side by side. However, we also need not fill the length of the tunnel. Moreover, we will not want to cast unnecessary light. I suggest we stagger ourselves with those who can see in the dark towards the front--joined single-file with those who hunger for close combat. I can then position myself on the opposite side, in a staggered fashion. Thus I will have a clear firing path and in the event of close combat, our melee experts can pass in front of me and reach the battle without obstruction.

Additionally, we should consider placing the loyalist at the head of the group, so that she may act as a decoy and spare the warband harm in the event of unseen traps. She proved unsteady in the most recent battle. It would not do for her to have another change of heart and pull the pin on a frag grenade in the midst of our number. Additionally, if she attempts to betray our presence and number to Imperial scum we encounter, it will be easier to cut her down if she is not within our midst. No offense is meant to those who have greater stock in her value to the warband--I am merely making strategic observations.>

[Cognomeng]

"Before we move we need to accomplish three things, remove anything of value from the serf, give me a moment to stitch up not-Archimedes' mouth, and treat any wounds incurred." Ved then moves to not-Archimedes and begins the not gentle process of sewing his mouth shut. "Anyone who needs medical treatment come see me. Servo-Skull move ahead stealthily and Auspex."


Away from books, but I believe that Ser-Skullington gets +20 bonus to stealth due to size and +20 to awareness due to auspex.
Stealth [roll0] TN 28 +20 Size -20 untrained Forgot it's untrained so the size bonus is quite useful.
Awareness [roll1] TN 43 +20 Auspex.
Let me know if I'm wrong about that stuff or if I need to roll medicae to stitch not-Archimedes' mouth shut.

[jolinaxas]

As Ved proposed to begin medicae, Shandra switched the output of her micro-bead back on.

+And I suppose your own embrace of Chaos was an easy, seamless transition? Mine certainly was not. Still is not, to be perfectly honest - would you have me do the same? In the face of fear, our most recent convert here did what most do when frightened. She clung to what was familiar, even if it no longer makes sense, or is no longer correct or even advantageous in a survival capacity. I assure you, if I had a dose of Obscura on me, I would have been tempted to inject it several times since we've arrived, even if it would slow me down to the point of uselessness and past caring. Likewise, without a lifetime of toil to foster contempt for Him as I have, she is still addicted, as it were, to the dead-Emperor. Allow her some withdrawal pains.+

[meltodowno]

Stryx's voice on the comm was far away from the one he presented out loud, contempt eeking from every word.

++ I gave it my word of it's safety among us. I would sooner slit your throat than break my vow. Faced with an oncoming horde and impending death, she opened fire and fought for us - what precisely did your pet worm do to aid in the fighting? ++

He growled audibly.

"Meat, we will take the rearguard."

He nodded to Shandra.

"You may wish to join us in the rearguard for safety. The worm knows the way, I am certain he can take point."

[Revanus]

Alpharius says nothing for a few moments. Instead, he rapidly reloads his Heavy Bolter, swapping a new box magazine in for the nearly spent one.

When next he speaks, his voice is icy.

<Correction--you would sooner see your vow broken than my throat slit. Do not threaten my life over a meaningless guardsman who not thirty minutes ago was tossing meager lasbolts in our direction and who turns green at the sight of battle.

Moreover, you cannot hold a ranged weapon and are of no use to anyone at the rear. How much blood for your blood god will you reap at our tail? If you wish to keep your "meat" by your side, then do so. But do so from the front. Otherwise, let Shandra take charge of her at the rear. I suspect she will be safer there.

As for the psyker--I care no more for his ultimate fate than I do for the guardsman. I hold neither animosity nor affection for either. But he has led us true to these tunnels and is the only one among us who knows the lay of the land. He also has a connection to the powers that brought us here. As such, he is less expendable than the cowardly private. He will stay by my side, and it would be wise to keep him alive until we have achieved our objectives.>

[ArcturusV]

Combat wasn't really over, it was merely stalled. I knew that in the back of my mind. I could see without the fire of the Guardsmen in the tower the ones far below on the ground screwing up their courage, realizing nothing was firing at them, and approaching the tower. The time it would take for them to get breaching charges or, far more likely, order some low rank whiteshields to clear away the rubble by hand. The amount of time that would take, until they found a frenzied horde waiting at another collapsed tunnel, and clearing that out.

How long would that be? If it was his Chapter it might have bought them minutes at best. Then again the Flesh Death never would have cowered from the scattered and ill disciplined Lasgun fire, and would have recognized the blocking of the entrance for what it was, an attempt to buy time for an alternate escape route to be attempted. They would have been on him like lightning and as certain as death. The Guardsmen though knew fear, their caution bought them time. Just not much of it.

I was dimly aware that the Iron Warrior asked me about Arkan Sevus, perhaps presuming I had some cult rites of death to follow. Or maybe harvesting the Gene-Seed. I only replied with a simple, "Not here." No harvesting of the gene-seed would be done amongst such filth and squalor as the collected biological waste of thousands of creatures considered pitiful scum even in the eyes of the Imperium.

I vaguely heard the Alpha Legion coming up with a plan. I was happy to let others take point or rear guard, and focus less on killing and more on securing the body I carried, keeping it clear of the toxic sludge of the sewage, even as I was forced to tromp through it. I idly wondered what sort of mutation or nurglish blessing that Small Copy and Shandra would get from trudging through this muck unprotected. I presumed the armor of the fellow marines either were sealed, or like mine at least had the Medicae Spirit to keep them whole. Not an ideal situation, but it should work.

Not ideal, that idea has been popping up a lot since I had made the sorcerous teleport into this place. I hesitated to call it a hellhole, despite the misfortune of a lost serf and the progress on the Cure. That was merely the Battlefield, the Battlefield was familiar. But this place seemed to have an air of misfortune. Maybe it was the ravings of the crazed berserkers left behind, or the whimpering insanity of the Witch who brought us here. I couldn't entirely place it, but there was definitely something about this place that had wrong footed me.

Small Copy was saying something about Arkan. It drew my attention for a moment. Ah, Small Copy wanted to pick him clean. Presumably to take the Flesh Death gear as his own. Which made a certain amount of sense. It was far higher quality than the weaponry and armor he carried. Oh the weapons might seem crude, but the quality was there, a level of craftsmanship that was absent outside of Lascarbine that he wore. I had to presume he looted it off someone else in a similar manner, a scavenger on someone else's battlefield, considering the relative simplicity and low quality of his other items. Or maybe whatever dark organization he belonged to considered him unworthy of superior artifice, and the Lascarbien was his sole personal creation showing his true skill? Hard to tell, either could be right.

Nonetheless, I started taking the spare Missiles out of Arkan's pack, adding them to my own store. The launcher had been left behind. At some point I was going to have to recover that. The Imperial Rabble was unworthy of such a weapon. None of the people here, exception of my own cousins from other chapters most likely, seemed to carry a reliable stub weapon. Presumably they were not rated on such. No way I would trust the Rifle to them. Nor did they apparently need Arkan's armor, fine it was, their own was heavier, and most likely better fitting on their form than the cast offs of the serf. I didn't really feel like handing out his rations, anyone stupid enough to try to eat a meal down here deserved all the curses of Nurgle that they got, nor did they seem likely to need an extra knife or a pack.

I grunted as I heard the conversation between Styrx and Shandra, and added a simple line, spoken aloud so Karen as well can hear it, "Faith comes in time. For now, just fight and live." A line the Khornate, and the Slaaneshi from the sound of it, should be able to agree on. Stryx for the focus on battle and bloodshed, the true way you venerate a Blood God after all, and the Slaaneshi for the reminder that all things are a matter of time and life, that none can resist the temptations of the Dark Gods while they life, for they are the act of life itself.

"Worst case scenario, the enemy rejoins us in 5 minutes," I added for the benefit of the others. Figuring if they had Democharges on hand or heavy tools like the Servo Arms of the Mechanical Inclined in the group and Utility Mechatentacles. I looked over to the miserable whelp of a witch, "You better lead quickly, if you don't want them to follow us to your Mistress."

[Jyssika]

Tech steps in attempting to put an end to the hostilities between the Astartes.

++You will be glad to have a melee specialist at the rear when the small blockade is breached and hordes of the frenzied prisoners surge through the sewers behind us++

If tech knew anything it was breaching minor blockades... and that having the khornate inclined berzerker types on side was a good thing.

++I shall take point if the Flesh Death is pre occupied and the World Eater is on rear guard. Shandra, would you care accompany me... incase we need your skill set?++

[Malthan]

Karen, apparently sensing that her worth is in question, dutifully obeys Stryx and moves towards the hulking warrior.

“T-t-the command structure?”

Her irregular stutter seems to have come back, perhaps the trauma of combat triggering this nervous habit.

“It’s a f-f-fortress, my lord. Lord Darrien says it can’t be cracked-“

“Tss, lying girl, silly liar. Castle is broken. Commander dead, turrets dead, soldiers dead. Master and mistress … hope not dead. We see to that yes.”

Karen shot a dirty glance at the creature.

“I don’t know much. My regiment, the 6th Salvian, we’re light infantry and marksman. We ain't expected to hold the line like the Huscarls. T-t-they’re the boys stationed in the Command Centre. Have a fondness for fortifications and firepower. Tend to pack a lot of heat. Big guns never t-t-tire and all that.”

Her hands wrap against her lasgun, either nervous at the thought of facing such a threat or perhaps fantasizing about taking such a weapon for herself. You might recall now that her own unit was regarded by official Prison logs as cold and trigger-happy.

“Course the sergeant always said the Darrien’s 8th Huscarls couldn’t aim those weapons for s-s-sket.”

Gareth was shaking his head vigorously now.

“Stop talk about slave soldiers, numbers and guns, bad thoughts pickling my brain. They not problem lords, all Imperium have guns, all chaos have guns. Gun fight gun is nothing new. Danger is liar of light and her agents yes, they are true terror, true threat.”

“I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about.”

“Mmm yes, lapdog too stupid, too silly, poor grunt not know, not allowed to know. The great eye keeps many secrets. Hurry now, down the tunnel, through the water trenches and through the hiding spots. Avoid shackles and chains that way yes."

Your servo-skull swerves down the tunnels, showing a cavernous system. You'd likely become lost without proper guidance. There are multiple options of travel, which your machine diligently but ineptly attempts to analyse. It veers down several paths before it's pict-connection to you begins to break up, crackling and distorted machinery the only noises you can make out through the warped audio.

[jolinaxas]

"As I said before, I will defer to the military specialists in military matters, and go wherever I'm not a liability. That being said, I'm unsure what I'll be able to do at the point. I suppose you are referring to a situation in which we encounter Imperials as we make our exit, but I can't pass for a guardswoman at any distance but the most extreme."

She pointed to the various light patches where imperial insignia had been torn from her flak armor, along with a few obviously profane "edits" to some other symbols.

"And even then I'll be standing next to a space marine. I haven't heard of them bringing in your loyalist counterparts, as of yet."

[Revanus]

Alpharius shakes his head.

<Shandra is correct. Placing Shandra at the front only puts her in danger. She need not be at the vanguard to work deception--and we are more likely to be facing enemy ordinance than willing ears at the end of these tunnels.

The risk of being assaulted from behind while unaware is low. It will be a while before the frenzied horde breaks through with bare hands, and the Imperial Guard would need to both brave the Omega gas and put down the prisoners before they might be inclined to breach the tunnel. And if they follow, it will not be silent. We have likely bought ourselves some time.

The advantage of a ranged weapon is that I can protect both our rear and our front. If we are assaulted from behind, there will be time enough to reconfigure our formation and soften the enemy before they reach us. The only reason to leave Stryx at the rear is so that he might shirk chance of battle and...pout. If he thinks it through, I doubt he would want to trudge through these sewers far from the battle lines as others gained glory. And if he does--I would not trust such a being to watch my back.

I propose we assemble ourselves rationally and proceed, and put aside this petty squabbling.>

[Cognomeng]

Ved stands and toggles the channel to the Micro-bead attached to the Servo-Skull and sends the recall signal. "It would take a considerable amount of time for the Servo-Skull to map these tunnels, communications are also impeded within them. Psyker, lead us, everyone stay close together. Given my inability to contribute effectively to combat with the material currently in my possession, I'll carry not-Archimedes. As for our formation, obviously a melee capable Astartes should take both point and rear positions." Ved removes his long black robe and affixes it high on his carapace, revealing a lithe figure with few visible augmentations. Though his head bears the marks of many surgeries. He then takes a position as close to the center of the formation as possible. He voxes Hector on a private channel. "You do realize whose company you are in the presence of Karen? What the Iron Warriors do? I doubt Guard fortresses will stymie our efforts. And psyker... tell us a tale of the command structure. And keep your respirators on."


When you are ready and the situation permits I would be... interested in assisting you recover your follower's Progenoid Gland.

[ArcturusV]

I clicked over to my internal vox link, engaging the spirit to seek out the comm spirit of Shandra, and added my own thoughts privately to her, "... I do not trust the witch breed. I would prefer you near the front. Your experience on this particular battlefield may lead you to notice something unusual before the rest of us."

Short, simple, and to the point as I ended the message. I had presumed that was why she was here. She seemed a decent enough shot, I had notice her burn down a few of the Rage Zombies during the battle, though the limitations of her weapon may have held back her natural skills, and with a solid Autopistol would have had a much better showing. Presuming she knew how to use it.

I added in private to Small Copy, "Later perhaps, at a proper shrine." There were things to take care of. If at all possible I would like to see the extraction done in the best of circumstances, with actual apothecaries from the Flesh Death there. But I recognized that I might have to make do with some half trained medicae, or my own rudimentary understanding, and a blood stained altar to some dark god as my operating theater for the sacred extraction. Others might do it in the field, but the seed was unstable enough, I didn't want to take chances.

It scared me, when the ramblings of the madman witch seemed to make even a little sense. But the description did. It reminded him of tales, sculptures, paintings, and memories of The Betrayal, when the Imperium sent its Astartes, and its Inquisitors with their retinues, towards our home world to finish off the traitorous acts they had started when they first cursed the Gene-Seed. It was an apt description of some of the Inquisitorial troopers. And it wouldn't have surprised him to see some of them there.

"Inquisition," I said aloud, and felt my trigger finger itching already. To avenge the fallen at The Betrayal was always a sweet, sweet moment.

[meltodowno]

Stryx rounded on Alpharius, fists clenched and claws powered up in warning.

++ If you ever try and correct me on a vow again, I will kill you. If you ever try to order me again .... I will hurt you. You might be impressive for your chapter, but in mine you would be considered a mockery. ++

Stryx remained in the rear guard, apparently alpharius didn't know his ass from his elbows when it came to military protocol.

[jolinaxas]

Shandra watched the sudden, and apparently escalating argument warily.

"I will go behind the marine at the vanguard. I believe this will satisfy all involved, myself included. Gentlemen, we need to move quickly, before my order gets rescinded and we're completely surrounded by the guard once more."

[Malthan]

Karen reacts with a shudder as Hector invokes the dread organisation. Wide-eyed she looks up at the traitor marine,

“You think they’re here? So close to the front lines..”

She averts her eyes and murmurs an apology, obviously uncomfortable with any traitor marine that isn’t Stryx. Gareth rolls his eyes and slaps his wrinkled forelimbs together in what you take to be a sarcastic clap at Karen’s expense.

“Yes, good comprehending, eye is always seeing but never comprehending.”

The mutant Gareth said gravely, shaking his head as if taking pity on the ignorance of the Imperium and all of its followers. Seemingly oblivious to the dispute concealed by vox filters, he rocks backwards and forwards impatiently before addressing Ved,

“Tale of Paradise Castle, already told machine thing, told hours ago yes. But perhaps need reminding or more details, machines always want details. Well machine thing, I could tell you of sands of time and barrels of steel, of rails and racks and rifles. Of staircases and moral high grounds, yes. But first ahem…”

He shuffled uncomfortably, before speaking to the whole group.

“I prefer not go first. Big, strong lords should go in the front, yes?”

Gareth pleaded quietly, his cowardice barely concealed.

“I show you way, tell you left or right maybe, not need put me out there, tunnels not safe for small thing like me. Could be danger, hurt Gareth, make me not able to guide anymore if I have bullet in me hyahehehehe.”

The laugh sounded forced, but you could sense that nervousness might be reasonable in a situation like this. Beyond the dull clank of occasional machinery, the astartes' autosenses might have been able to make out something more guttural in the distance, a growling noise perhaps, though whether organic or artifical could not be known from this distance.

Gareth now pointed meekly forwards and articulated the directions with only a slight quiver in his voice.

“Straight then left, then forwards and then left, then forwards, then right and then... crossroads.”

He nods his head solemnly, agreeing with his own directions.

"Yes, I tell you from back here, you go forwards. Is for the best. For chaos, ahem."

Your servo-skull does not respond, though whether this is duty to the unreliability of communications in this area or a more permanent delay is not clear.

Instead, you receive nothing but static and the occasional burst or hiss of audio bleeding through.

Karen, startled by Stryx’ sudden movement and baring of his claws, steps aside a fraction. The muted argument is apparent, though the details certainly elude her. The nature of warband politics is likely as foreign to her as the palaces of distant Terra.

“What’s going on …?”

She asks Shandra, though the pause makes you think that she’s also interested in connecting with perhaps the only other truly relatable human in this area. You realise that she might not even know or recall your name. From her distraught and pale appearance, you reason that she has most likely been running purely on fear and survival instincts till now.

[meltodowno]

"Where are we going? Has the worm given us a clear answer on that yet?"

Stryx's tone was still harsh with his anger, but something had thankfully diverted the conversation away from his growing desire to see what the irksome legionairre looked like on the inside. He spoke of glory like he knew what it meant. Khorne doesn't care from where the blood flows, only that it does.

[ArcturusV]

"Of course I do," I answered Karen calmly as we made some forward progress. My hand took the stub rifle from Arkan, and held it out towards Karen as she made her way alongside Stryx, "If you're trained."

It was a fine weapon after all, resplendent and bearing the iconography of the Flesh Death Chapter, and chances were if they ran into some sewer dwelling monster a better weapon than her lasgun. Of course it was an honor to offer her a chapter item like that, and a measure of her good sense to see how and if she accepted it. Especially for a purported marksmanship expert.

Answering Stryx, I continued, "I believe the worm is trying to tell us that some Crusade Leadership got captured by the Inquisition. I presume we're being sent to cause havoc and effect a rescue." It was as near as I could figure, with what I put together of mentions of the Inquisition, confirmed by Gareth, and a lot of mentions of Chains, Master and Mistress.

[Cognomeng]

"My Servo-Skull has dropped out of contact. Either the interference in the tunnel is higher than calculated or something else is down here. In either case we need to move. Now is not the time for pride and matters of honor Astartes, you can settle it later in a duel or some other ritualistic equivalent. Psyker you WILL stand at the front, next to the leading Astartes." He lets his lasgun fall on its sling and lifts his Long-Las. If it weren't for the serpentine mechadendrite, he would look like a renegade soldier more than a Heretek.

[Malthan]

Karen flinches as you raise the weapon, only realising your intention moments later as you keep the weapon outstretched and inquire on her training. Her dark eyes, sunken into her pale and tattooed face, flicker from the weapon to your helmet's eye lenses. Swallowing, she bows her head and mutters,

"Gratitude."

Before taking a firm grip on the weapon and lifting it to her chest.

"My lord."

She hastily adds, her face aghast at the possibility of retaliation for disregard of tradition and respect. She slinks back slightly, studying the mechanisms and grooves, though you recognize her eyes lingering on the weapon's iconography. A heretic weapon, a true physical sign of her own shifting allegiance. Then you notice her mouth and then suppress a prayer to the omnissiah before doing a weapon safety check, checking the chamber for rounds and securing a full magazine in preparation for combat.

As you begin to stride past her in your movement to the middle of the pack, her quiet voice carries through from the back.

"I'm sorry he had to die like that."

She presumes to share your grief, you realize. But it's not true mourning of course. It's not that she regrets Arkan's passing, for how could she? Instead she regrets the entire wretched circumstances of this war. The wording makes that clear, if not for her tone.

For you detect a sense of strangled empathy in her voice, not quite verging on collective loss but rather sympathy for another being left alone in this galaxy, with their comrades slaughtered, their final moments nothing but suffering at the hands of remorseless cruelty.

It strikes you as ironic that it was her sergeant who effectively caused Arkan's death by proxy, though of course that was in turn revenge for your own actions. Revenge and blood: two things that any warrior can understand.

Gareth lets out a murmur of discontent, clearly unhappy with being sent to the front.

"Lords please, not make Gareth go to the front. Anyone else is better! Machine thing tough and strong. Metal skin, powerful armour!"

He reasons, crouching in front of Ved, running his mutant hands over Ved's exterior.

"My skin scabby and ... and weak!"

Regrettably, he demonstrates this by peeling back part of his flaked skin to show the exposed sinew and veins. You notice with some disgust that they are for the most part an appropriately organic red and blue, tainted only slightly by the same cobalt mould that grows upon his face.

Then he jumps and curses, as he accidentally rips off the scab he was using for demonstration in his surprise.

For in the distance, you hear the telltale bark of bolters.

[Revanus]

Alpharius, standing at the other end of the tunnel, does not respond directly to Stryx's bluster. He merely nods to Ved.

"The Heretek is correct. We have wasted much time. Let's continue. Gareth--lead the way."

With that, Alpharius begins to walk down the tunnels, Heavy Bolter at the ready and camo cloak swirling behind him.

Actions:

Stealth check: [roll0] vs. 62 (52+20 Camo Cloak-10 hulking+conditional modifiers for darkness?)

[jolinaxas]

“What’s going on …?”

"Shandra, dear. Shandra Carsten. Or, if you prefer, inmate designation..."

She looked down at the top of her hand, where time and her own attempt to remove it upon her conversion had rendered the code barely discernible.

"L2-345E2-SC. I lift up my hand for your benefit, of course - I myself am unlikely to forget it anytime soon. You refer to the current dispute? Just posturing. Happens no matter who you throw your lot in with - just human nature. You probably won't believe me, but I know how all this must feel. I won't claim exact similarity between our experiences, but if there's any..."


Shandra stopped as she heard the gunfire, moving past Hector to her assigned position.

"I guess we know now why the skull no longer speaks."

[Malthan]

The sounds and echoes of bolters die down, the heavy thud and howling of their machine spirits fade away into nothingness. Lowering himself to a limped crawl, Gareth begrudgingly begins to move forwards. Towards the sound of bolters, of course.

For while he resisted the strict commands of his betters, Gareth appears to react more positively, if reluctantly, to the invitation by Alpharius. Wading through the muck, the creature makes garbled noises and moaning statements as he leads you through the sewers.

The tunnels you pass through appear to be virtually identical, only labelled slightly different in some garbled numeric pattern. The mutant occasionally pauses and wags his limbs at the various directions before settling on a path. It seems for the most part that he is attempting to follow his own detailed instructions from earlier:

He leads you straight onwards, before going left and then forwards. However, the bursts of bolterfire commence again, a deep thudding noise which seems to have grown louder. This noise rattles not only the surrounding sewage and tunnels but apparently Gareth's sense of direction. He briefly scampers down some small, non descript grate as if taking cover, only leaving it when coaxed by Karen's threats of violence. Showling, he emerges slimy and repulsive as ever, leading you astray slightly before returning to the spot where he became riled.

Following from where he left off, he now leads you left and then forwards down an especially vile tunnel, full of rotting waste. Here he stops to murmur something to himself before wandering down a tunnel to the right, where he walks aimlessly on his own but in plain sight, before cursing and returning to you.

"So boring this place, no life here at all."

Then he heads left, though he seems to have become increasingly lost by his own volition. Wondering down this passage, you then hear the clinking of what might be metal and the sploosh of waste water. Halting fairly suddenly, Gareth pauses and looks around in a confused manner, his dark red eyes widening in horror.

"They're here. Sense them, oh gods, shackles and chains are coming for us! They smell our sins! Turn masters, make way backwards, must go now, fast and now, now now!"

He swivels around frantically and directs you to turn around and go back the way you came and then continue further on in the opposite direction to your current trajectory. He points from his position, urging Stryx to move in the direction that he is now indicating.

"Fast, they're fast and full of lies and hate. Lords I hear their shackles and chains pickling my inner lobe, must go other way, get away from them now!"

He screeches, blood oozing from his scab wound, prompting him to kneel down and cradle his head. As if on cue, Ved's connection to his servo-skull bleeds back to life. A chirruping piece of binary registers itself, with no other audio or visuals. Instead you gain only its location, which is in the same direction that Gareth is now directing you to run.

"Quick masters, must be going opposite way. They're coming again, not again!"

Karen's eyes widen as she recognizes the meaning of your designation.

"L2? So that means... what did you do to land yourself in there? If you don-t mind me asking of course..."

She stutters before weakly introducing herself as

"Priv-. Sorry, old habits. Karen. Karen Velantice."

[Cognomeng]

"Hold. Do not go back. And keep quiet." Ved's mind races to process and analyze what is happening. "Servo-Skull is now displaying its locator, but no other data. Analysis indicates that a trap lies in the opposite direction. Psyker, quickly and succinctly, describe the bearers of shackles and chains. We must decide whether or not to strike or stumble into an ambush."

[Revanus]

Alpharius comes to an immediate halt, raising his Heavy Bolter on the other side of the tunnel.

<Establishing Overwatch on any incoming enemies.>

He then briefly turns to the Psycher.

"Gareth--we cannot avoid combat and we should not waste more time. Is this the correct path to the command bunker, or is the other direction correct?"

Action:
Full Action--Overwatch on tunnel up ahead. Fire on anything that come through.

[Malthan]

Gareth shakes his head, now weeping blood and mewling in distress.

"You have seen them in shackles, but not yet with chains. Go backwards and onwards, quickly, hear them screaming of carrion and corpses."

The mutant points back in the direction you came, where a similar tunnel is situated. As you look, a great distorted cry seems to sound from behind Gareth, a distant cry reminiscent of those suffering from fever and frenzy.

"Coming for us, lords must go other way, must go round! March now backwards and onwards!"

[jolinaxas]

"What did my parents do, you mean. I was born here. They were merchants bonded to a tradesmans' guild, unable to pay their portion of the tithe due by the guildmaster. They claimed hardship and poor business, he claimed my father had gambled it all away. At least that's what I was told by the older prisoners. Didn't really know either of them that well. Now, let's be quiet for a bit, while he asks for silence."


Obeying the order of silence, Shandra looked down each of the myriad paths they could take. Without some sort of optical assistance, each was merely the same dull, putrid blackness as the others. So she aimed the same way Alpharius was, and would shoot when he did.


Overwatch on the tunnel ahead, same as alpharius.

Edit: Moving to behind Tech, as discussed in the OOC. Just saving me from posting literally just that.

[Revanus]

Alpharius opens a channel to the group.

<Between the bolter fire, Ved's servo skull input, and the psycher's indications, it seems like our objective is in the other direction. It sounds like we've got another frenzied mob coming toward us from this angle. I can cover us against any enemies to my front, and will not be hampered in attacking any enemies in the other direction. Additionally, we are forewarned about the possibility of ambush in the other direction, which may lessen the sting...>

...he pauses, aware that others have bristled at his statements in the past.

<...I believe the other direction is the correct path, given the bolter fire and prepared defenses. I believe fighting another mindless horde may fritter away valuable time. I am also fast enough to delay a foe and still catch up to the main group.

However, I will follow the group's decision. Only let us decide quickly.>

[ArcturusV]

Bolter Fire. I wasn't worried about the bolter fire of Imperial Lapdogs. Between ceramite plate and enhanced physicality I would eat their .75s like candy. The same could not be said for their pathetic flak armor and frail bodies, each round I fired would break them in half. I wanted to stay, I wanted to fight. Not just because this seemed to be the correct direction, but because if the witch spoke an inkling of truth, and my interpretation was correct, it was Inquisitorial Stormtroopers there. Probably called in by that Sergeant during the initial assault on the tower.

They had burned my home. Sacked and destroyed my chapter's monastery, ruined centuries of relics and honors, chased us into the Screaming Vortex, and trapped me with the madmen of Chaos. I wanted to fight them, and I wanted my revenge. If only some Khornate Knights were here too, or some Black Templars perhaps.

[Jyssika]

Tech had earlier said:

++You, as all of us, serve more than one purpose young one and I trust your wisdom and experience far above any of our barely sane guide. Behind me you are as safe as behind either of the other three Astartes and on my Legion's colours I shall shield you from any harm.++

He nods, although a very nature and human action one that tech rarely does, as Hector backs up his words over the vox. Before once again metaphorically steps in between the two Astartes.

++A single melta bomb would clear the breach in the blink of an eye, it pays to be vigilant and your firing corridor can just as easily function as a runner's trench allowing Stryx to reinforce me at the front if I once again require him on my arm.++

As they pass through the sewers Tech resists the urge to drown the vile creature leaping them in the knee deep sludge at their feet, with his claw now free it hangs loping just behind him in front of Shandra should she require a hand hold.

[roll0] Logic 45+10 test to try work out sewer markings.
0 DoS.
[roll1] Tech Use 45+10+10 miu? Test to try find vox chatter ahead.
3 DoS due to cerebral implants

[meltodowno]

++ The mutant did not say the objective is the other direction. He said we must go around the threat ahead. ++

"Worm." Stryx whispered "How long will your diversion add to our travel."

[Malthan]

"Not long as being caught in shackles and chains, must go now before they are upon us! Not get trapped, not get caught, circle round, make quick march. Turn around my lords, down the other way now yes!"

Gareth mewls, desperately motioning for you to turn around and move back the way you come, in order to go through the tunnel opposite to you.

[meltodowno]

Stryx returned to disregarding the mutants presence.

++ Does anyone know what this creature is talking about in regards to shackles and chains? Is he suggesting we would be incarcerated ? ++

[ArcturusV]

"Either more of the drugs, or the Inquisition. Maybe both," I replied with a grunt to Stryx. At least based on the context that I had noticed. "Probably Inquisition in this sense. Probably had him chained up as a Pet Witch," I added. I knew some Inquisitors kept mutants and witches chained up as anything from Psychic Auspexes to Attack Dogs after all. It would at least explain things. If there was any explaining the shattered mind of the insane, gibbering, cowardly psyker.

[Jyssika]

++Do we press on or do we go round? Shandra... you have a
better idea of the layout of this place than the rest of us.++

Tech flexes his fingers, the tips of his armoured fingers tapping
silently against the stock of his shotgun, the pallid arm still clenching
onto the chainsword ready for an unknown foe to leap from the
shadows.

++I am tempted to suggest we press on; just to discover
what the Shackles and Chains are.++

[jolinaxas]

"I don't think it's more of the drug-fueled madmen. I know he's barely intelligible, but I assume he knows the difference between the Inquisition and them. I say we avoid them, if possible. One of the other level twos had a lot to say about them. Claimed to have worked for them in secret. Not the sort to trifle with."


Just fluffing my FL:Inquisition to make sense in mentioning the other prisoner.

FL:Heresy TN 41 [roll0]
(For Directions/Sewer Layout Info)

FL:Inquisition TN 41 [roll1]
(To see if she might recall anything useful)

[Malthan]

These sewers are not distinct or particularly unusual in comparison to the sluice systems located in your original hab-block. However, the markers and numbers are as foreign to you as any of the marines. There is doubtless a pattern to it, but you do not succeed in recognizing it. However, more eerie thoughts of sewer creatures and grate hectopids with dark binding tendrils flicker to your mind, most definitely rumours but still, mean spirited things are known to grow in dark places of the prison. Drug-runners from your old Slaaneshi connections used to tell horror stories of shadowy limbs flailing in the sewers, grabbing hold of men to drown them in the sludge and filth. Old Jarrold, a grizzled lieutenant of your old gang, swore that such a creature took his wife, his son and his left arm, which was indeed missing. Most had assumed him a paranoid schizophrenic, but you knew this man to have his lucid moments.


Opinions and disdain for the intruding Imperial agents was ever-present but always concealed by the convict population. Associates and even close friends were occasionally dragged away without warrant, gagged, drugged and never returned. It is possible that these abductions in some way relate to the "shackles and chains", though such a phrase has never been especially meaningful on Licentia.

They were all well armed and connected however, as though the prisoners might have not have loved them, they certainly feared and respected them. In particular, you recall talk of esoteric and exotic arms, specialist guns and heavy duty mechanical implants. The entourage was larger than most prisoner expected, with bands of stormtroopers, mercenaries and more making up the Inquisitor's bodyguards. You know that many such agents survived their master's death, though which ones you cannot tell.

The most memorable acolyte you recall seeing was a young ex Militarium Veteran, who managed to hold your entire gang hostage with the threat of his stormtrooper entourage. He personally interrogated and killed numerous accomplices, though he seemed to think you undeserving of a proper investigation. His callous attentions left your crew devastated and under-equipped for the harsh gang wars, as he not only confiscated your contraband but also your gang's signature product, a weak hallucinogenic drug. This ensured that your lethargic group was weak and in poor spirits when the chaos invasion came, driving you to leave them behind when the time for escape was at hand.

[meltodowno]

"I am uncertain. With enemies in front and enemies harry us behind ... you expect us to go to the side and risk been attacked by both at once."

Stryx puzzled over it, his chapter training told him it was better to push on and break the enemy in front of them - it was the safest option and would eliminate a potential ongoing threat ... but they were not his mission.

"If you believe you can lead us round safely, then we might be able to confound their counter strike. Though I highly doubt the Inquisition is active within the sewer system on short notice. If they are present at all, I imagine they are pre-occupied with the war on their doorstep and the streets full of heretics."

[Cognomeng]

"The only logical reason to go back would be to retrieve my Servo-Skull. The Psyker clearly doesn't know the layout of these tunnels, he barely knows a specific path. Deviating from that path to avoid an unknown foe who clearly is not attempting an ambush would be foolish and likely result in us wasting time and resources. The Servo-Skull does not represent a powerful enough incentive against the risk of an organized and mechanically adept force ambushing us. We should move forwards, obliterate whatever is making that noise if necessary, and complete our objective. Psyker you are being protected by Astartes, do you honestly believe these shackles and chains can oppose them in combat?"

[ArcturusV]

"It seems clear to me," I weighed in as I looked over the fellow Traitor Marines. First to Tech, "Iron Within, Iron Without, right? Is it in your nature to see an enemy bastion before you, and its defenders in the way, and turn tail like some Alpha Legionnaire, hoping for some secret plan and trick to see you through? Or do you prove the superiority of your firepower and determination, and grind their puny defenses to dust?"

I then looked to the World Eater, "It is a simple matter. Skulls to be collected, enemies to be crushed. We have seen the enemy wants to keep us running like scared dogs. But we are the destroyer. We are bred for war. What can they bring forth to stop us from reaching our Commanders that we cannot rip apart? Should we run like this scared whelp," I pointed towards the Psyker, "Cowering in filth and hope our enemy shows us mercy, or shall we go forth, and see them rent asunder before our fury?"

I passed over the Alpha Legionnaire, he had already proven to be opposed to any such ideas, and I doubted anything I could say would get him moving other than the mutual survival odds assured by sticking with the warband. What way they went, so did the Alpha Legion. So it was down to the two Disciples.

I looked down to Shandra first, "You know this place and these tunnels. If there is a safe hiding spot here you know of, feel free to speak up. If there is not one? Well would you rather trust in our ability to sunder the enemy, or trust in their inability to notice a gibbering madman trying to press himself against a wall?" I flicked my hand towards the Psyker again, his inability to shut up and constant wailing would definitely ruin any attempt at Stealth after all. He was cowardly and weak willed, likely to break when the pressure happened and reveal us at the worst possible moment. If Shandra had her own, more secure bolt hole than merely hiding under the **** juice and hoping they didn't get Nurgle Rot... well that was another idea.

And finally, to Small Copy. "You want vengeance perhaps, or to recover somethign from the fallen. I understand that," I offered. After all, I had rushed a mob I didn't have to fight, merely to recover my minion. "But there is a time for everything. We know nothing of what lurks behind, other than something which can disable a machine spirit. Later, I will join you in recovering the Servo-Skull, as you lent your firepower to recover Arkan."

[Revanus]

Alpharius shakes his head.

"Insults aside, I do not care which way we go, so long as it is the correct direction to the bunker."

He turns to Gareth.

"Psyker--we will protect you from the threats of chains. We will protect you from ambush. The only question is which direction will get us to your mistress and master? Which tunnel is the correct path for the command bunker? Which tunnel leads us to the...Paradise Castle?"

Charm (if necessary):
[roll0] vs. 18

[jolinaxas]

Shandra's eyes darkened further.

"No - we traveled through these sort of places. Didn't use them as a stash. There were... things down here. Never saw one myself, but one man - a little like the mutant over there, in terms of his mind not being quite set right - claimed one had taken his arm off. Tentacles and the like."

Looking down at her sword for a moment, she looked back up and shrugged her shoulders.

"I trust you to get things done in terms of battle, and I trust those rumors more than I trust the mutant, I suppose. My only caveat is that if it is a party of the Inquisition, and their leader is a bearded man, scar under his left eye and a ****-eating condescending grin and medals all up and down his chest, I want him alive. Said he had stormtroopers with him."

[ArcturusV]

"I trust that certain values of Alive are acceptable," I added, reminding her that the last time someone requested Alive, I had delivered... with a fairly shattered arm, hand, and near death's door, but he was Alive. And that was someone he didn't have an instinctual dislike of.

[jolinaxas]

"As long as he can still feel pain. The ability to mutter cries of anguish and insincere apologies for what he did to my people would be nice."

[meltodowno]

Stryx grinned in his helmet at Hectors suggestion, and even let out a laugh

"Now you're thinking like a World Eater! The shortest way is the best way."

He turned to Karen and jostled her in his misplaced good spirits.

"Good news meat, you might earn a name soon. Your first proper blooding."

He nodded at Alpharious' question to the mutant, truthfully that was the only question that mattered, but he expected another evasive answer 'all roads lead to paradise' or some other drek.

Then Shandra spoke up, calling out for capturing a member of the inquisition ... stupid ... but brave.

"If he is seen, I shall leave him to you. I am ill-equipped to capture. Though you should be careful - their type are notoriously manipulative and resolute."

[Malthan]

"Lords not know of the shackles and chains. Archimedes and master and mistress not know of them either. Look them now. But can't, can't find them, path is becoming unclear. They come from colours, when I try to call lords through colours, they taint and paint my colours bright yes..."

Gareth whispered, clearly panicking at the idea of continuing on the same route.

"Won't do it again, won't lose new masters to shackles and chains..."

He murmurs, his hair raised on edge, the deep cobalt mould seemingly agitated and crawling over his skin.

"Won't do it, won't lead lords to their death. Told lords before to follow me, lords ignore me once, lords deviate from path, path must be followed, path determined, not my fault that the colours only shade one way..."

The mutant says more defiantly, scampering under the feet of the marines. He slithers along the sewage, sliding under the feet of the astartes until Karen grabs him firmly and throws him face first into the muck. Drawing her new gun, she breathes raggardly as she hold him hostage.

"Enough. This thing is untrustworthy. He is a mutant, born of weakness and deceit. He has never been worthy. He has done nothing but spew lies and nonsense, leading us in random paths of his own fancy and declaring it prophecy. My lords, why are we keeping him at all? He has already told us of the way forwards, to the crossroads or whatever poetic nonsense he described it as. We should press on the original path, but kill him first."

Gareth stares at her with wide eyes, though they narrow to mere slits as she talks. Finally he gurgles, some pink froth brewing from his mouth as he speaks.

"So smart, for a slave soldier. I alone know the way, the way through the water trench, the way to paradise. How can she know the path, when she barely knows herself? Tell me girl, what will you do when all the lords have their backs turned? Will you run from them or will you be a good little slave and shoot them?"

Slowly and with a definitive click, Karen disables the safety on her rifle

A garbled message of binary bleeds through the crackling static, an encoded message that you recognize as a rudimentary distress signal. After a few moments of staring, the location of your servo-skull begins to move. In the direction of your current location.

[meltodowno]

"Meat..." Stryx said slowly "... I appreciate the sentiment - but if you take that shot, a few things are going to happen. Firstly, we will be a body down and that is less meat for the grinder any way you look at it. Secondly, Alpharius here is going to shoot you and I will not stop him."

He pointed a finger at her accusingly.

"Then you had better hope the shot kills you, because if you live I will visit my displeasure upon you. So ... how about you disengage that firearm before I lose my patience."

[ArcturusV]

A daemon? Madman ramblings were always unclear. What was clear, was that two of their new helpers were getting rather uppity. The witch with his guidance thinking it made him untouchable. He reckoned that wasn't entirely so, that Shandra might be able to pathfind just as well. And if not? Well... cut up topside with Servo Arms and Power Weapons, get bearings, and go on. Worked well enough for the Witches on the void ships, popping back into reality in order to get their bearings. Same principle could apply here. If not just demolish everything on the surface in their way.

"Save yourself a bullet," I told Karen, "Run him through," I reminded her of the bayonet on the weapon. A good chance for her to appease the War Given Form by spilling witch blood, if it came to it. Get her a taste of up close and personal killing, which I doubted that she had experienced before this with her sharpshooter designation. "Don't forget to twist at the end of the strike."

"If you will not serve at our will, then you will serve as a sacrifice," I told the Psyker, giving him one last reminder of the position he was in. "War is my home. I will find my way through a battlefield." Leaving Gareth with little doubt that should he try to press it, I was more than willing to make my own way without his gibbering insanity.

[jolinaxas]

"He has a point about the bullet. Also, the sound. Might as well not make any more than we have to. I'd have believed him, but these colors of his have had him scurrying around uselessly in several directions. I was unaware that witch-guided visions required further examination and course correction. Had he not claimed to be able to lead us in the first place, it was unlikely we would have done much but leave him be. But now he's wasted our time as well."

She'd eventually get the hang of where they were, she knew it. At the moment, it appeared that the mutant was just as lost as she was.

[Malthan]

Karen slowly lowered the weapon, prompting a snide jeer from Gareth.

"She is a slave, lords. Why take armed guardgirl with us to fight other slaves? What you expect from her? To keep quiet as you slaughter her fellow soldiers? Help you murder millions of her kind? Why would she? As soon as she has more reason to be more afraid of the enemy than you, she will turn on you. As soon as she has the opportunity to abandon you, she will take it. And there will be opportunities and reasons to be afeared, oh yes. You may be masters of battle, but this is the heart of Paradise. Her kind are crawling over everywhere, with more guns than sense. We should sacrifice her now make her-"

He was interrupted now by the suppressed wailing of the limbless Archimedes, his sewn shut mouth tearing open and emitting a sickening cry with increasing volume. Slowly but surely, the stitches that shut his mouth begin to rip at this skin, though he powers madly through the pain, lips parting increasingly in correspondance with the horrible cacophony. His eyes are alight with glee, a horrible unnatural glint to compliment his masochistic joy.

"He knows! Knows the shackles and chains are almost hear, must move from them, go other way now!"

Gareth mutters, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Lords we must go!"

[Revanus]

Alpharius turns around slowly. His Heavy Bolter is comfortably gripped in his hands. His voice is calm.

"Gareth will follow us quietly, where we choose to go. If he refuses, he will die. Until we have reached our objective, however, he is useful to us--and he presumably has superiors who value him at our objective.

How about we actually pursue our mission, rather than tearing each other apart for the enemy's benefit?"

[meltodowno]

Stryx nodded his satisfaction at Karen compliance.

"Good. I shall explain the full reasoning to you in good time - here on the cusp of battle is not it. Have I given you cause thus far to distrust me?"

Stryx turned to regard Archemedes.

"Somebody silence him."

[Malthan]

As Archimedes' bloody awakening continues, Karen keeps her rifle trained on him despite the warrior's crippling injuries. She makes no action of threatening to finish him however, though it is clear that she would like to.

Gareth meanwhile slumps his shoulders and appears to acquiesce to the threats from Hector and Alpharius. He does a mock bow, the words spilling out of his orifice with dull obedience.

"I will do as my lords command."

Your servo-skull's locator appears to now be flickering and gaining in speed, though the failsafe distress signal never switches off. It seems to be inching closer to your position, at a fairly slow rate.

[Jyssika]

Tech listens quietly; at first he expects the Flesh Death to
insult him as he speaks his holy mantra but is left confused
afterwards. He listens to his equivalent assessment of Stryx.

Iron Warriors are some of the bloodiest fighters known to Chaos.
Specializing in sieges and refusing to give up on one until the last
keep has been breached and the last enemy enslaved... and sieges
are not pretty, every Iron Warrior knew the pride of carrying the
breach. His counter-part however was the World Eater, his legion
were the ones who carried every breach as they stood shoulder to
shoulder sieging Terra.

Yes... He knew he and Stryx would crawl through hell together.

He echoes in after Stryx.
"Typical World Eater, Stealing the honour of carrying the breach!"
He bangs his hand on his chest in salute, as though to say Just kidding.

During the business of karen trying to shoot Gareth he does not
act or speak, although he does put himself between Shandra, a
las gun on full auto threatening to injure bystanders in such a
small space.

He nods in achknowledgement of capturing Inquisitors, knowing
he is perhaps the most capable.

As the servo skull eeks closer Tech attempts to open a vox channel
with it and does his best to capture and data from its pict caster
and display it within his visor.

[roll0] 45 +10 Tech Use, +2 DoS if successful.

[Malthan]

Your attempts to connect with it via vox are resisted, though you manage to capture brief flickers of the automated code that is attempting to rebuff you. It appears to be a crude firewall that rebuffs all attempts at communication, singleminded in its utility and stubborn in its denial. Whether this is a fail-safe in case of emergencies or some other bizarre product of the poor communications in this tunnel, you cannot say.

More meaningfully, you manage to capture some visual and audio clips. Though the monotonous similarity of the tunnels leaves little in the way of identification, you recognize it emerging from a path your party recently travelled through. Shadows seem to loom over the skull, with dark, distinctive silhouettes reflecting onto the sewage water in front of the skull. Whether they are pursuing or following is hard to tell at this moment.

Over the crackling and distorted audio, the sounds of machinery and thumping pistons can be barely made out. There appears to be a soft, meticulous and suppressed whir whining from behind the servo-skull rather than the beat of heavy duty industry.

[Jyssika]

Tech relays the feeds he manages to collect to both
Stryx and Hector aswell as accurately describing it
to Ved in a long burst of ear jarring binary.

++What do you make of it?++

[Cognomeng]

Ved responds to Tech in kind. ++The noise indicates powered armor or Servitors. It would be more logical to assume the latter given the compromised nature of the Servo-Skull, an escort for a Tech-Lackey of the Omnissiah perhaps.++

"We are being followed, and they are closing. Alpharius, shift your firing arc to cover the rear approach. I'll deal with the screaming, and one of you melee focused Astartes should position yourself to the rear."

Ved swiftly opens his medikit, draws out some bandages and a scalpel and runs the blade into not-Archimedes' neck.


I'm unsure of what the Test should be. The base between Ved's int and medikit would be 75, but other factors like how easy the surgery is to perform(and it really should be relatively easy, especially with the enhanced Frenzon keeping him alive)
[roll0] TN 75 +2 DoS

[meltodowno]

"If we are been followed we had best deal with them first, before we get attacked from behind at an inopportune moment."

Stryx reviewed the data been broadcast.

"In these tunnels there are few ways to throw a tracker off otherwise."

[Jyssika]

"I suggested we advance on the Skull, embracing whatever trap
the pathetic lap dogs of the Emperor wish to try throw around us"

He points towards the tunnel they are being advance upon from.

"Now the fools advance upon us! Establish a firing corridor, prime grenades!
Let us make these vile sewers run red with the blood of our enemies!"

[Revanus]

Alpharius is already turned around, due to the prior discussion involving Gareth's fate.

<Overwatch established.>

Actions:
Full Action: Overwatch on the Ambush side of tunnels. Fire on anything that enters, other than the servo-skull.

[Malthan]

Archimedes gargles madly as you sever his vocal chords, perhaps the only noise he can now make. However your deft skill and abilities have also secured his survival and that the damage might be reversed at a later date.

The bleeping of the servo-skull continues, though the audio and video feed is quite suddenly scrambled at the behest of some garbled noise, which is high pitched enough to make Tech grunt with discomfort. As Alpharius draws up his gunlines, Karen does the same, while Gareth continues to shake his head about time and nothingness.

Eventually, all except Shandra and Hector can truly make out the faint whirring and clicking of moving cybernetics, though as before it appears to be somewhat repressed in volume. In perfect stillness you wait, eyes and guns focused on the tunnel opposite to you.

Finally, movement. The lone servo-skull slowly rounds the corner, making a sad droning noise as it moves. There are no signs of overt battle injuries, though it has clearly been damaged in some manner. It appears singed, with parts at the top of the cranium covered with a thin level of smouldering ash. Ved's attempts to access and command it via vox are ignored, and it does not respond to his usual command codes. Like a wounded insect, it flies lazily towards you, occasionally dipping in altitude and pace.

[ArcturusV]

It was Small Copy's.

That was running through my mind as the stricken skull hovered in. Just like Arkan was my responsibility, and it was my call and my call alone to go back for it, this was his moment to make his call. I wasn't going to pull the trigger of my bolt pistol and put the skull down. I wasn't going to call out to it or try to assuage its stricken machine spirit.

Instead I merely focused my attention the other way, getting that itch in the back of my neck that said too many eyes were out front, and that someone had to keep their eyes to the rear.

[jolinaxas]

"What's happened to it?"

[Cognomeng]

Ved takes a few seconds to line up a shot with his long las at a non mechanical target on the Servo-Skull. "Terminating compromised Servo-Skull."


[roll0] TN 78 -20 size +10 short +30 Fullaim +10 Red dot +10 Single

[Malthan]

Ved’s well aimed lazer fire slices into the Servo-Skull, superheating its audio settings and melting through its collective sensors. The machine careens through the air towards you, obviously powered by its single-minded fixation with returning to its master. Dark smoke fumes out from its exhaust, whirling and bobbing pitifully through the air.

Finally it drops immediately in front of Stryx, landing with a heavy splash on the fetid sewage water. Looming over it slightly, Stryx makes out a blinking red light emitting from the murky depths. With sudden realization, he recognizes the source being a makeshift black device implanted on the back of its skull, along with a small countdown that appears to be lowering with alarming speed.

Meanwhile Revanus makes out bulky, hunched shadows creeping close to the sewer tunnel that he is currently overwatching. Long limbed yet strangely deformed, they appear to be stalking closer and are almost within sight, numerous shadows huddled around the corner obviously waiting for some sort of signal. The enemy assault is imminent.

[meltodowno]

Stryx shouted up when he saw the bomb on the skull.

"Bomb, fire in the hole!"

His plated boot swung into the servoskull as Stryx attempted to kick it back down the passage it travelled from.

"Shoot it!"


[roll0] TN64, + DoS from unnatural Strength (4)

Edit: so, 6x4= 24 meters